#jake hangman drabble

[sebsxphia]

Jake spiting his drink into your mouth after you’ve been a brat.

“Swallow for me,”

You could. He wants you to be good for him. But where’s the fun in that. You spit it out.

This man would be FURIOUS

- Teddy 🧸💖

whiskey & black ties.

jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader.

￫ description: jake’s had enough of your bratty behavior and he’s on a total power trip tonight.

￫ c/w: deep throating, choking, breath play, oral m receiving, giving jake a blowjob, skull fucking, daddy kink, spitting, spitting with alcohol, dacryphilia if you squint, pet names, jake using derogatory language towards the reader, aftercare at the end.

￫ a/n: i would like to give a huge thank you to my beloved teddy (@thesluttyarchivist), who helped coin this absolute filth and for giving me the incredible idea to continue it on!! i love you to the moon and back darlin’! <3 i would also highly recommend listening to ‘child in time’ by deep purple when reading, as it was fuelling me as i was writing it! my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

You were the first to cross the threshold beyond your driveway to your home. You were giggling as your heels clicked along the hardwood floor in your hallway. Photos hung on the walls of Jake and the Dagger Squad in their Navy whites. All of them standing shoulder to shoulder looking sincere and formal. The further you got down the hallway the more relaxed the photos became.

There were more of Jake and his co-workers laughing together in said Navy whites after the admirals went home and they retreated to the Hard Deck. Three of your picture perfect photos from your wedding day were proudly displayed as a sweet reminder every time either you or Jake left your home.

Your giggling was left echoing through the hallway as you reached your living room. Jake was not following in your lighthearted demeanor and had been scowling with his jaw set firm the whole ride home. The only thing that followed you into your living room was Jake’s heavy footsteps. Even in his dress shoes his strides were bold and firm, making everyone around them aware that he was coming.

You fell into your plush sofa with one last laugh and bent over yourself to un-tie the delicate straps of your heels that were wrapped neatly around your ankles.

“And to make it worse, you didn’t even dance with me Jakey! How’s your wife meant to have a good time if their loving husband won’t have at least one dance with them.”

You continued with the last of your defiance that started in the car ride home that occurred after Jake told you firmly and curtly, “we’re going home, now.”

It was the Dagger Squad’s annual Christmas party. It wasn’t official by the Navy, but the group decided to hold the event every Christmas for the past five years now. They had grown impeccably close with each other and it was the one night they could come together, bring their partners and make crude jokes about Admiral Simpson’s flying.

Jake made it into your shared living room and headed straight for the seventies style bar he had brought together in his own home. The bar in question originally started out as a record player built in. Jake gifted it to you on your birthday years ago and it held all of your records that were now tattering at the edges. Many records you and Jake had played and danced effortlessly around to in your living room. You both eventually turned it into Jake’s own bar.

On the surface it held three crystallized whiskey glasses that Jake’s parents gifted as your wedding gift and a number of Southern liquors that reminded Jake of home. One of them being a particular whiskey that cost you an entire months wages that you gave Jake as a surprise gift for his thirtieth birthday.

Jake shed his suit jacket and flopped it onto the armchair that rested next to the bar. He was facing away from you and busy fixing himself a drink. From behind you could see the way his broad back muscles contorted under his crisp shirt. The whole suit including the shirt was black, but it didn’t stop from his muscles proudly showing.

Jake had a rare month off from work and in that time his hair had grown out and he kept a constant haze of stubble, no longer have to worry about keeping up appearances, for now anyway. The end of his hair had curled out and they licked upwards at the base of his neck. It always shocked you how quick his hair could grow, but it was heavenly to tug on.

The silence was deafening and neither you or him had said a word in what felt like forever. The reality was only a minute had passed. You worried maybe you pushed it too far this time with Jake, but you know he would’ve told you otherwise. As you sat on the couch waiting for his response, you could feel a pool of heat bloom at the bottom of your stomach and you could feel something twitch between your thighs.

All that could now be heard was the sound of the liquor pouring heavily into the glass.

“What? Cat got your tongue Lieutenant?”

Your words hung in the air and Jake stopped his movements for a split second. You hoped that would at least get a rise out of him, but the second passed and he continued on with his movement as if he was brushing a fly off his shoulder. He wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction just yet.

You heard the cork pop back into the bottle and Jake finally turned back around to face you. He rested one hand on the edge of the table top and leant the rest of his body weight against it. He was out on display for you.

Jake brought the glass now filled with liquor to his lips and took a fleeting sip. His eyes bore into yours from across the room and they didn’t break contact as he gulped down half of the glass eagerly. You only wore a small smirk on the corner of your lips and one of your eyebrows was partially raised.

He his heavy gaze parted with yours as he placed the glass down onto the surface. Jake had still shown you no response to the rise you were trying to get out of him and breaking eye contact with you gave you admission to add fuel to the fire.

You parted your lips to speak and Jake responded by working his slender fingers through the knot in his tie. He un-did it with a small grunt and cocked his head left to right to free himself of his own restraints.

“What is it that’s made you so grumpy Jakey?”

You taunted him further with a wicked grin now twisting onto your lips completely. He popped the two top buttons with his fingers effortlessly and ran his tie through his hands, feeling the silk.

“Is it because I was dancing with someone else that wasn’t you?”

Jake continued to run the tie through his hands and started to wrap it around his own palm. His gaze was now fixated on his own movements. He looked like he was ignoring you completely and you decided to throw the last bit of gasoline onto the already burning fire.

You bit your lip and sat back against the couch with your arms spread out on the back. You were willingly opening yourself to your husband now. You had no remorse.

“Javy was a fucking good dance tonight. I just can’t understand why he’s not partnered up with someone yet. If I could go back in time to when I met you both, sometimes I think, ‘what if I went with Javy?’”

The fire that was already burning hot and bright went up a hundred feet at your words and could’ve engulfed the Empire State building.

You had zero time to register the quick movements that were made next. Jake took quick strides across the living room floor to where you were and had managed to grab the whiskey glass in tow.

You shuffled up against the back of the sofa to sit up striaght to allow Jake to climb onto the sofa and tower above you. His knees were planted firmly either side of your frame and he gripped at your jaw with the hand that had the silk tie wrapped around his palm. He squeezed with his thumb and forefinger so hard you thought it could shatter in his vice grip.

Jake held every bit of power of you in this very instant. He could crush you beneath him or let you go freely and it was a game you both loved to play.

His other hand held the whiskey glass steady. You forgot that he flew fucking planes for a living and his grip would never falter. The grip on your jaw inched up to your cheeks and it gave you the instinct to let your lips part just enough that it allowed him access to your mouth.

Jake brought the glass up to his own lips and took a hefty swig, still leaving some left over. He craned his neck over your face and pursed his lips to spit a direct line of his whiskey into your own mouth.

Jake spoke the first words he had all night.

“Swallow for me.”

Jake’s order was a fleeting hope that on his behalf you would obey. He wants you to be good for him, but where’s the fun in that?

You purse your lips again and Jake is ready to tell you how good you are for him, but you push your tongue upwards and spit out the expensive liquor. It dribbles down your chin and small droplets drip onto your collar bone.

At that moment Jake’s lips turn upwards and he lets out a snarl. There is only one look in his eyes and it’s one that makes you squeeze your thighs together instinctively. You can feel a drip of your own arousal seep through the lacy lingerie you were wearing and it makes you feel electric.

Jake places the whiskey glass on the arm of your sofa to keep it steady and he unwraps his matching black tie from around his palm. He wrings it around your neck in one broad stroke and he holds tightly onto the end of the fabric, bunching it up in his grip. He pulls at the tie to tighten it around your neck and you let out a pathetic squeak which earns a mocking laugh from Jake.

Jake reaches back for the whiskey glass and with the tightness of the tie wrapped around your neck, it causes your mouth to part to allow air desperately into your lungs.

Jake repeats the same action. He takes a hefty sip himself, leans over you and spits it back into your mouth. This time it was more than before and a trail of his own saliva comes out after the dark liquor.

Jake is already one step ahead of you to stop your bratty behavior. He brings his hand up that’s got the end of the tie bunched up to your mouth to cover it. He places the whiskey glass back down and his fingers pinch at your nose.

You’re stuck under your stupidly handsome, pilot husband’s grip and your eyes go wide at him. There’s emergency signals running through your brain and nervous system that you currently can’t get any air into your lungs.

Jake looks down at you, grinning like a Devil.

“I said, swallow for me, fucking whore.”

Your eyes twitch and narrow at him for a fleeting second as you try and read the malicious look that’s etched over Jake’s face. His eyes are still boring down into yours and his grin is still pinched at the corners of his own lips. You’re trying to second guess how long you can keep up the brat façade and how long Jake will hold your breath for until you fall limp against the sofa.

Your breathing is starting to get shallower and you’re running out of air. You can see your sight blur in the corner of your eyes and your finger tips and toes feel fuzzy.

You hate how stubborn Jake can be sometimes and so you give in and swallow the liquid down in defeat.

“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Jake sneers down at you.

He gives you one more harsh pull with his tie that’s still wrapped around your throat. The movement is enough to bring your body to the edge of the sofa and with one push to your shoulders, your knees meet the floor. Jake lengthens the end of his tie so he can still hold onto it and angle your face up towards him, like a dog on a fucking leash.

“Are you sorry?” Jake tugs again and it causes you to splutter before you can answer him. “I said, are you fucking sorry?” He grits.

Jake knows that by tugging on his tie it’s restricting your throat enough that you can’t answer him, but that’s all part of his game. He cradles your jaw with his spare hand and runs his fingers over the bone. Jake smiles down at you like the big bad wolf. He’s all teeth and there’s a glint in his eye that you only recognise when Jake’s hungry to fucking ruin you.

“Well, seeing as you won’t answer me I’ll keep that mouth quiet with something else.”

He removes his hand from your jaw only to bring it back and deliver a light smack to the side of your face. It’s gentle enough that it won’t mark, but you can feel the tingly sensation of it stinging run up and over your cheek.

He brings his hand completely away from your face and masterfully unbuckles his thick silver belt buckle with one hand. He un-does his trousers enough that he’s able to free his cock. You already started to notice the growing bulge as your face was met with his crotch, but seeing it out with the tip red and pre-cum spilling over, made you wet your lips instinctively.

He came back to cradle your face and for a moment the façade of the Devil left his face and his eyes softened at your pleading gaze. “You tap my leg three times if you want out sweetheart, okay?”

You offer him a thumbs up and a small nod that you could muster, before his face shifted back to the deliciously wicked Jake that was going to ruin you for his own amusement.

His forefinger and thumb pinched at your cheeks again and he delivered the same crude demand he had before. “Open.”

You egerly obeyed as the sight of his cock was making your own arousal now seep through your lacy underwear completely and you wouldn’t be surprised if it stuck to the floor. You were so desperate to objey him and get back some gratification that you would do anything.

Jake craned his head down mere inches and pursed his lips again. From the towering height he had over you, it made his salvia drip in a long line before hitting your tongue. You let out a whine in response and you watched as Jake’s cock twitched against his abdomen.

“I want that pretty mouth of yours wet for daddy’s cock.”

As Jake’s own feverent desire started to rise higher and higher, his Texan drawl came out thick and heavy and it made your heart pound in your chest. You were so needy for him, so desperate to taste him that you let out the only words you could muster by the tight grip he still had around your neck.

“Please.”

Your voice was hoarse and weak. It caused a low groan to emit from Jake’s chest. He wasn’t able to hold on for any longer and he palmed at his cock before slipping it into your mouth. Jake hissed at the sensation of finally feeling your slick and warm mouth around him and he grunted out a low,“shit!” followed by your name.

He removed his hand from his own shaft and placed it at the base of your skull with his fingertips digging into your hair. It allowed him to push his pelvis closer to you and subsequently his cock further down your throat. Jake could feel you swallow around him and let out muffled gags. Your salvia was pooling in your mouth to completely coat his painfully hard cock. All that could be heard was crude sounds, but you looked up at him with your bambi eyes and Jake thought he could’ve come then and there. He also thought about how he got so lucky with you.

“Good girl. So fucking pretty for me, sweets. I wish you could see yourself right now.” Jake mutters out.

His praise is a welcome change to his punishing demeanour that he’s been wearing all night, but it quickly shifts again when he brings his hand around from the back of your head to your nose and pinches at it harshly. He’s still holding onto his tie and he pulls at it again to tighten his grip.

You squirm under his relentless hold and your bambi eyes change to pleading eyes up at him. Jake brings his knee to press into your shoulder, pinning you against the sofa. He lets out a ‘tsk’ and steadies your withering body underneath him.

“No, no. Nu-uh. Stay still for me, slut.”

Your breathing is irregular and your heart is thrumming heavily in your chest, but still your eyes are boring into his. You feel the pain and little oxygen start to effect your senses again. You can feel your feet going numb and your vision getting blurred. He shifts the last inch of his cock down your throat and now your still pinched nose is pressed firmly against his soft tuft of curls.

The last inch causes you to scrunch your eyes shut and let the tears that are pooling in your eyes fall free. Jake moves his hips in small and calculated thrusts into your plugged mouth. He throws his head back with his jaw slack and lets out another deep and guttural groan. Jake relishes in the power he holds over you right now and the feeling of your throat constricting around his cock.

It’s bliss.

You feel the air rush back into your lungs eventually and the heavy weight of his entire cock fall from your mouth. You splutter around nothing and inhale deeply in rushed breaths. The grip on your neck loosens and Jake has let go of the pinch to your nose. Your eyes open and there’s a thick and lewd trail of your mixed saliva connecting from your bottom lip to the head of Jake’s cock.

Yet still, through the rushing feeling of Jake choking you within an inch of your life with his cock, you feel the ache growing in between your thighs more and more. You rub them together to try and alleviate the heat but it works very little. You let out a whimper and look back up at Jake, as to beg for his forgiveness.

“That get’s you off doesn’t it? Daddy’s cock plugging you like that. You’re a fucking sadist, aren’t you sweets?” Jake’s cocky smile is plastered back over his face and it makes you tick.

You let out a small scoff and bite back with all the might you still have left.

“Says you.” you croak out.

Jake’s usual smug smile is wiped away in a millisecond and he bites back with a simple and stern, “whore.”

Before you can register it, his heavy shaft is planted back into your mouth and his hand is on the back of your skull. Jake doesn’t waste any more time and he sets a punishing pace. His hand is pushing your head down onto him as fast and as hard as he wants. He’s been aggravated and taunted all evening, and Jake’s gloating ego finally has you where he wants. The thought is enough to make him close to coming in mere minutes. His jaw is set firm with his eyebrows knitted tightly together in concentration as he bounces your head on his cock over and over.

“My wife doesn’t get to be with anyone but me, you got that sweets? No other fucking pilots, not fucking Javy, just me.”

You whine around him and nod your head to the best of your ability in between his shallow thrusts. Your tears are now falling freely over your hot and rosy cheeks, with your own drool falling from the edges of Jake’s cock and dripping down onto your thighs.

Your admission to your own guilt is enough for Jake and his lips part and his jaw goes slack. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth in one more final push to the hilt. You let out another whine as you feel his hot and sticky cum shoot thick ropes down your bruised throat.

Jake lets out shuddering groans and keeps you pressed to his pelvis as he shakes through the remainder of his toe curling orgasm. He curses your name a handful of times and his hand on the back of your head softens, with his fingers running through your hair. As Jake comes down from his ecstasy inducing high, his cruel demeanor goes with it.

“Good girl, that’s it.” Jake murmurs out.

He removes his softening cock from your swollen lips and closes your aching jaw with a gentle touch. He tilts your chin upwards, “swallow for me.” He ushers his praise. He watches with keen eyes as your throat bobs and you swallow the remainder of his release.

Jake squats down and picks up your exhausted frame that’s now slouched against the sofa and places you carefully down onto the couch. He grabs the throw that hangs off the back and wraps it around you.

“Stay there.” Jake orders with a tender kiss placed to your lips. Your eyes flutter open and close as the wave of Jake’s high radiates off you.

Jake comes back into the living room with a tall glass of water. He pulls you into his chest with the throw still wrapped neatly around you and one of his large arms holding you upright. He places the glass to your lips and tips it gently.

“There you go. Little sips okay, sweetheart?���

You swig down the remainder of the water and gasp as you feel the coolness spread over and soothe down your throat. Jake places the glass down onto the arm of the couch next to his abandoned whiskey glass.

“You did so good for me, so good for me, my gorgeous wife.” His sweet words are a stark contrast to the Jake you knew a few moments ago, but you know it’s a safe response.

You feel safe and protected in his arms.

He pulls your full frame into his, his crisp shirt crinkling underneath you. You feel fleeting and soft kisses placed to your forehead repeatedly. Your breathing evens out and matches up to his.

“Lets get you cleaned up and then I’ll give my perfect wife all the love they deserve.”

taglist:

@tallrock35

@luckyladycreator2

[seresinhangmanjake]

His Princess

Jake Seresin x fem!reader drabble

Summary: You surprise Jake with some special Disney-themed lingerie.

Notes: its not smutty and it’s not crazy influenced by Disney. Just went on a trip and this popped into my head. This is a drabble for now but based on what people think, I might make it full-length.

Words: 361

---

The bra was a deep shade of purple with a scalloped neckline and pearls of varying sizes lining the edges; and the fabric of the underwear, what was there of it anyway, shimmered in emerald tones under the light. A thin layer of seafoam green silk fluttered at your hips when you walked toward him.

Jake's eyes bugged out of his skull as he scanned your form up and down, lips parting in awe before he licked them to return some of their moisture. "Holy hell."

"You like it?"

"Do I--" he chuckled, reaching out to rest his hand on your waist. His soft palm slowly slid up and down the curve of your body and he leaned forward to kiss the swell of each of your pushed-up breasts. "Oh, Honey, this is--" he pulled back to drink in another full look at you then met your eyes. "I'm so fucking spoiled," he said as you braced your hands on his shoulders to staddle his thighs. "What, uh, what else did you buy?"

"Oh, just some others," you teased. With a little shove he fell back on the bed and your body followed, your chest pressing firmly against his. You ran a finger over his bottom lip.

"R-Really?" He swallowed, adams apple bobbing harshly. Dark pupils were blown wide with lust and his hands skimmed down your spine until he could grab two handfuls of your ass. He squeezed with strong fingers to leave his mark in the form of some prints that would turn purple by morning, then held your hips still so he could grind his length against your core. You moaned lowly, the sound causing him to twitch in his underwear. "What others?" he asked.

You smirked and leaned down to nip at his earlobe. "Surprises," you whispered, and you chuckled at his whimper. "But one of them does come with a tiara. So now you can have a princess whenever you want."

He lightly smiled, eyes lazily trailing over the features of your face as he tucked some hair behind your ear. "You've always been my princess, beautiful," he said, pressing his lips sweetly to yours. "Always."

tags: @marvel-ousnesss @thespeeder @marrianena @fangirlingoverfangirls @blue-aconite @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @dempy @chaoticassidy @alana4610 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @dracosluvbot @smoothdogsgirl @smit41 @wkndwlff @rileyloves5 @gigisimsonmars @hangmanbrainrot @withakindheartx @teacupsandtopgun @himbos-on-ice @xoxabs88xox @happypopcornprincess @violyn20 @jordanturpen @buckymcu12 @jerseybagel @nagygreta @rintheemolion @coldmuffinbanditshoe @avengersgirllorianna @oliviah-25 @talkfastromance4 @ysl-bby @chibijusstuff @kmsryles343 @sky1004 @sometimesicryintheshower @cookielovesbook-akie @yanna-banana @taylahk109 

[ddejavvu]

m.list - jake 'hangman' seresin

thoughts: #let's talk about hangman !!

fics:

spring fling (series)

hungman

pizza box puzzle pieces

sun-kissed

blurbs:

rooster x reader x hangman | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

surprising jake for christmas

outlaw!hangman

living on a ranch with hangman

being feral for hangman

jake + clingy!reader

personal trainer!jake

vampire!hangman

hangman + casual dominance

hangman's dirty talk

waxing jake's chest

jake's skincare routine is longer than your own

jealous!hangman

hangman is shy around you | 2

hangman likes proving you're his

hangman + rivals to lovers

dbf!hangman | 2 | 3

drunk!hangman

jake x pregnant!reader

jake x bradshaw!reader

showering with jake

the dagger squad as mechanics

cuddling with the top gun pilots

jake with a secret wife

whipped!hangman

jake x shy!reader

booktok with husband!hangman

jake buying you flowers

bathing with jake

hangman x florist!reader

hangman's gf has a bonfire with the dagger squad

hangman comforts you after a botched haircut

top gun x criminal minds crossover

ceo!hangman

hangman corrals his drunk girlfriend

you wear jake's cowboy hat

hangman + dumbification

hangman doesn't recognize you with your new hair

hooking up with hangman

jake lets you into the bar's bathroom

jake taking you in the locker room

you're hangman's girl

decorating jake's car

asking jake to leave while you change

hangman alphabet: N O P

[kryptonitejelly]

Three times Jake takes on the role of your knight in shining armour. Jake Seresin x reader - I’ve imagined this in the Flyboy!universe but you don’t have to read that to read this.

College Flyboy

“12 o clock,” Jake hears you mumble into his ear as you reach up to circle your hands around his neck. Jake’s hands drop around your waist instantly, almost like a reflex as he cuts off from the conversation which he was having with the group of his teammates. They are used to it by now, Jake being distracted and dropping everything for you, so they pay him no mind, picking up easily from where he had left off.

“What am I looking at,” you can detect a current of concern, laced with a hard edge, as Jake’s eyes fan out to the background behind you, scanning over the cluster of faces in the bar to his 12 o clock direction.

“Guy in the blue shirt,” you say, hands still curled around his neck, your body taking a small shuffle until you are pressed flushed against Jake’s chest, “couldn’t shake him so I told him I had to get back to my boyfriend. Pretend, please.”

Your tone has a desperate quality to it, a sign to Jake that the blue shirt chump had been aggressive, likely he had been slimy as well.

“I got you,” Jake’s voice is almost a growl, as he catches sight of the said offender who sees you in Jake’s arm but continues to approach. He looks to be about a similar age range, but doesn’t seem to be from the same college as you both. Jake takes in the red tinge blossoming over the stranger’s cheeks, the wild look in his slightly bloodshot eyes - definitely not sober.

The stranger stops just behind you and opens his mouth to speak but is immediately cut off by Jake who simultaneously holds you tighter but doesn’t bother turning because by hell is he going to even allow the man to touch a single hair on your head. He feels your hands curl around the collar of his shirt as you turn your head to rest your cheek against his shoulder, your lips just ghosting the side of his neck. He identifies your attempt to get closer to him, to get safe, while playing into the ruse.

“Fuck off,” Jake is blunt, to the point and loud. Loud enough that it makes his teammates drop their conversation to collectively take in the sight that is unfolding. They don’t move to back Jake up because they know he’s got this, but they find themselves observing in case he does need back up. It isn’t the first time they’ve seen this happen, Jake playing the role of doting boyfriend to ward of unwanted male attention.

“Just wanted to see if she really had the boyfriend she conveniently pulled out at the last minute.”

“Seen enough?” Jake responds cooly, his gaze not leaving the other man’s. His hold on you doesn’t falter. Jake turns his head just slightly, gaze unwavering as he lets his lips brush the side of your head in an outward display of affection.

“Alright man,” the stranger holds both hands of in defeat, shrugging before walking away with an unsteady gait. His teammates resume their conversation, amused smirks on their face.

Jake doesn’t let you go until he has disappeared from sight, woven back into the crowd.

“He’s gone,” he says with a squeeze to your waist, but Jake doesn’t let go of you; not even when you unfurl your arms from around his neck. It causes you to be standing, body still flush against Jake, your hands resting lightly on his chest.

“Thank you,” you say before pressing a soft kiss to Jake’s cheek, and he finds thinking for a fleeting moment what would happen if he moved his head to capture your lips with his.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” is what Jake says before he finally lets you go.

-

Pre Flyboy

Jake hears it before he sees you. The uncomfortable fake laugh you throw out catches his attention one supermarket aisle away. It makes his brows furrow slightly and he turns on his heel to follow the sound of your voice, his search for cornstarch forgotten.

Jake’s eyes narrow as he catches sight of the problem - a man standing slightly too close to you, his gaze openly dropping down to the your ass which is clad in a pair of workout tights, tracing each of your curves.

“I know a fantastic coffee place near my apartment,” he leers openly, his gaze moving up your body to meet your eyes. Jake sees you attempting to inch away.

“Hey babe, I couldn’t find the cornstarch,” is what Jake says, loudly as he is beside you in a flash, his arm coming around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side, all while placing himself as a human barrier between you and what he’s termed in his head to now be the grocery store pervert.

He sees relief in your eyes as you tuck yourself further into his hold by sliding your arm around his middle before tucking a palm into his back pocket

“You can never find the cornstarch,” is what Jake hears you say with a laugh as you look at him through your lashes with a look thats bordering on smitten - staged, he knows, but it makes his heart skip a beat.

“Help me?” He says as he begins to steer you away by your shoulders, but not before shifting both your bodies so that he is now positioned behind you, his hand on the small of your back, shielding you from further unwanted attention.

Jake throws a glance behind his shoulder, his green eyes steely and swirling with anger. He catches the eye of the grocery store perv who, taking in the way Jake’s biceps bunch under the sleeve of his t-shirt, has turned a shade paler than before.

“Thank you,” is what you say with a visible shudder as you both round the corner.

“Anytime darlin,” Jake says, his hand still on the small of your back while leaning towards you to let his lips brush against the side of your hair.

-

Post Flyboy

“Would you like to grab a coffee?”

“I don’t think so,” you say with a shake of your head and a polite smile.

“What about a drink another time?”

“I -,” you open your mouth to respond only to be cut off by a voice that carries your way. You turn to see Jake walking towards you, a coffee cup in each hand.

“Hey baby,” he says, too loudly, large smile on his face. Jake maintains the smile as he walks towards you, but you see his gaze dart fleetingly to the man beside you.

“Sorry,” you say, flashing the man a look. You don’t get a chance to see his reaction, or the moment he walks away because Jake reaches you, his lips meeting yours immediately in a kiss that borders on being just a bit too much for being in public on a Saturday morning.

“He was actually harmless,” you say when Jake finally pulls away from you. You let your eyes flicker open, face feeling slightly heated from the kiss.

“Mmm,” he hums, pressing a brief kiss to your forehead before handing you your coffee, “I quite like playing the role of knight in shining armour.”

[writing-until-i-drop]

Gummy Bears | Comfort Drabble wc: 438

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

You and Jake are on a road trip to visit his sister and you have the most important job, passenger princess.

Warnings! A little suggestive, allusions to smut but no smut, fluffy and domestic

Requested by @closetspngirl

You leaned your head against the window, watching the scenery go by in a blur. Jake had insisted that instead of flying to see his sister in New Mexico, the two of you should drive the 700 miles instead.

The thought of a 12 hour drive hadn't been appealing at first but Jake knew how to convince you. Sitting in his truck in the Hard Deck parking lot he had pulled you into his lap, kissing you senseless before lavishing your neck with attention, bruising the delicate skin while your noises filled the cab. Knowing you were putty in his hands, that's when Jake asked,

"Don't you want to be my passenger princess, darlin'?" When you finally gave in, he made sure you had nothing but good memories of the passenger seat (and the backseat just to be safe).

Now you were curled into yourself in the passenger seat with one of Jake's larger hands resting on your thigh, fighting off a yawn and failing.

"Take a nap, darlin',"

"M'not tired." You spotted a sign for one of the nicer gas stations, "Get off here, baby. I just need some sugar."

"I can give you some sugar," Jake dropped his voice making you giggle.

"Shut up," He laughed as you batted his hand off your thigh for wandering too far and took the exit as requested.

Jake guided you into the gas station, his hand in your back pocket. He kept himself pressed against your back, making sure no one even thought about coming near you and even though it was a tad over protective, you loved it. Jake was always like this in new places, not trusting strangers anywhere near you.

"What does my girl want for her snack, hmm?" He kissed your neck as you debated your options.

"I'm between the gummy bears and the M&Ms." Jake grabbed both and guided you towards the drinks,

"Is there a reason you're rushing me, Lieutenant?" He squeezed your ass,

"Just want to get back on the road and to our hotel room."

"We'd be there by now if we had flown," You laughed, grabbing two waters and a soda from the coolers. "But no, someone just haaaaaad to drive." Jake shook his head at you, stealing a chaste kiss that left you wanting more as he paid and pulled you back to the truck.

Despite the candy and caffeine, you fell asleep not long later with Jake's hand holding yours, his thumb smoothing over your knuckles. When you woke up a few hours later you blindly reached for your gummy bears, only to find the pack empty.

"Jacob!"

[withahappyrefrain]

I ALMOST MISSED THIS?!

“You’re a sweetheart” “Believe me, I’m really not” + Jake Seresin pls? 🥰

FE YES THIS IS SO HIM also would you like a little Jake and Venus AU? We got some language and sub!Jake here aka my favorite

Jake Seresin had a routine.

Step one, find who he wanted to talk to have for the night. Not someone who was clinging to the corner (they were for Bob), but also not the life of the party. He didn't like to share.

Step two, make eye contact. Sometimes Jake would be able to make it happen with the power of his lustful stare. Sometimes it meant playing pool at a different table or going up to the bar.

Tonight it meant going up to the bar, to order his drink loudly, ramping up his accent and 'yes m'am's to Penny. He didn't mind, he loved the spotlight.

Once eye contact was made, he could move on to step three. Bring her a drink.

He noticed she had ordered a gin and tonic at the bar. Jake practically strutted to her table, feeling confident that he would be walking out of here with the woman of the night in less than an hour.

"Howdy darlin'. I've always been told a lady should never have an empty glass. May I?" Jake pointed to her first drink, which was nearly empty.

She pursed her red painted lips together, looking Jake up and down, as if deciding whether he should be allowed to stay. At least, that's how Jake felt under her strong gaze. He tried not to falter, fighting the urge to close his free hand into a fist.

Finally, she spoke. Her voice was seductive, dripping with honey like a trap to lure Jake in.

"Aren't you a sweetheart?" Her coy smile gave Jake the confidence to sit down at her table. Though, he couldn't help but chuckle at her words.

"Believe me doll, I'm really not," it was said with a wink as he handed her the drink.

"Oh, I think you are," she winked back, causing Jake's heart to skip a beat, "However, I'm not a doll."

"Then what shall I call you? I was also thinking Goddess," Jake smirked.

She playfully rolled her eyes, "Sorry to break it to ya, but you aren't the first to call me that. My name actually means Venus."

Venus. How fitting, with her full lips and big eyes and hair full of curls. Jake couldn't think of a better name. If she was Venus, he would be her Mars, her fiery, passionate lover.

Just for tonight.

"I'm Jake," he stuck his hand out. He was a gentleman, after all.

She hesitated, just long enough to see his large hand begin to tremble before taking it.

Her skin was soft, though her grip was firm. She never broke eye contact, holding her own. This woman, this goddess, was different, confident. Jake couldn't help but wonder why she wasn't out on the dance floor or talking to other pilots.

"So Venus, what brings you here? Other than faith," He asked with a charming smile.

"Work was hell and my coworkers kept saying I should go here to blow off some steam," she shrugged, "I'm just looking for a sweet man."

Jake leaned back in his chair. Her words didn't match her mischievous tone. And there was that word again, sweet.

Sweet was not what anyone had ever used to describe him. Hot, charming, driven, successful. But never sweet.

"Well Venus," he shrugged as he looked up at her, "I don't know if I can offer you that. But what I can offer is a night you'll never forget."

"Shouldn't sell yourself short, Lieutenant," she giggled before taking another sip of her cocktail, "But why don't we just see where the night takes us?"

Jake expected the night to end one of two ways; either on top of her or going home with someone else.

What he didn't expect was to be underneath her in his car, her manicured fingers stroking his cock as he whined into her neck.

"That's it," She encouraged, "You deserve it. Been so fucking sweet to me."

Jake groaned, not caring if the whole bar heard him. He continued mouthing at her breasts, not caring about the tank top she had on.

"Made me cum with your fingers, let me get off on your thigh," She admired the stain he now had on his khaki pants, "What will your teammates think Lieutenant?"

"Don't....Fuckin' care," Jake gritted between his teeth, hips jerking up towards her.

"I knew you were a sweetheart. Makes up for your ugly as sin car," Venus chuckled.

Jake didn't care about her comment on his car. Truth be told, he didn't care too much about whether he came or not.

Truth was, he was too busy thinking of what engagement ring to get his Venus.

[i314flix]

the one where jake seresin likes to call it ‘welfare checks’ whenever he’s checking how you are—but let’s be real, everyone knows that it’s only an excuse he uses because he can’t seem to erase the uneasiness he feels whenever he knows you’re not fine.

pairing: jake seresin x fem!reader

word count: 5.8k

rating: NC-17

content: fluff, light angst, enemies to lovers au; ft. naval aviator!reader

warning/s: swearing, alcohol consumption, making out, sexual innuendos, daddy issues(?), mentions of feeling pressured, mentions of drunk driving (nobody drunk drives here though), mention of a near death experience, most likely wrong info about naval aviators and the nature of their job sksks i'm sorry this is strictly fiction okAY

opening note. idk how this ended up being almost 6k LMAO. but anyways, i was so inspired to write this one scene (which you can read below) and ended up just adding so many details and back story that now here we are???? hope you guys like it though! jake seresin brain rot is real and i'm admittedly a goner for—as glen once put it—navy draco malfoy 😭

Jake knocks on your door three times, patiently waiting and looking around the street as if he’s afraid that someone followed him here. He knows that it’s unwise to be at your doorstep at this hour, but he was done eavesdropping and subtly asking around about your absence, bothered that it’s been almost a week and you haven’t been attending training like you should be. He heard Phoenix tell Bob that you were taking a short break because of the near-death experience you had while flying along the course last time, in fact almost quitting entirely if it weren’t for Maverick who instead offered you to breathe for a few days and then come back to see if you still wanted out of the mission. You were considered by your fellow TOPGUN graduates to be one of the captain’s top candidates to lead the mission, so Jake understood why Maverick didn’t let you off the hook that easily.

A few seconds pass and he contemplates on knocking again or leaving, deeming this idea as ridiculous—but then he sees the lights open and you’re peeking through the curtain of the small window beside your front door, disappearing again only to unlock the dozen locks on your door and opening it to greet Jake who meets your gaze immediately.

“What the hell are you doing here?” is the first thing you say, flummoxed by his presence. You and him aren’t exactly the closest among the crew, and there have been several times in which you’ve displayed how annoyed you were by everything Jake either says or does.

“I’m visiting you,” he answers, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why?”

“Because you haven’t been in training for a week now. Are you quitting or something?”

You stare at him, appearing in deep thought or perhaps attempting to read his mind, and suddenly, you’re closing the door.

Jake widens his eyes in surprise but is quick to extend a hand out to prevent you from doing so.

“Really?” he complains. “You’re going to slam the door in my face?”

“Look, Hangman,” you begin, sighing and making your tired state known, “if you’re here to give me shit, don’t, because I have no will to show you the patience I typically have on a normal basis.”

“I’m not here to give you shit.”

“Then what are you here for?”

“I told you—I’m visiting.”

“For what? To make sure that I’m not going back so that Maverick can assign you as team leader?”

He rolls his eyes. “No, I’m here to make sure you’re doing okay. I heard you’re doing fine, but I just wanted to see it for myself.”

You’re quiet again, and you revert back to staring at him, as if you’re waiting for him to admit that this is just some prank. Jake doesn’t say anything though, he just returns your stare, appearing sincere for once, worried and waiting for you to realize that he’s not aiming to piss you off every time an opportunity presents itself.

You open the door wider. “Now you see me.”

“You doing good?”

“I’m doing good,” you affirm. “Just… I don’t know. Going through some stuff. Mixed thoughts—feelings—I don’t think you’d understand.”

“Try me.”

“I don’t want to bother you.”

“I’m here and it’s past 11 p.m.,” he says. “If I didn’t want to be bothered, I would have done this welfare check another time.”

You snort at the term he used in visiting you. “Are you sure? You don’t peg me as a good listener, to be honest. I don’t want to pour my heart out and end up listening to your life story instead.”

“I’m not like that. I could be a good listener if I tolerate the person enough.”

“You hate me, though.”

He laughs. “I don’t hate you, Goldie.”

Goldie. Jake liked your call sign because he liked the way you scowled whenever he was the one who utters it. The story behind the name was that your very first squadron saw a picture of you wearing these ridiculous platform gold sneakers when they were snooping around your Facebook profile, finding a photograph taken years ago by your mother at some family gathering you no longer remember. Eventually the joke turned into them calling you Goldie, and when the callsign review board was held, every member of the squadron voted for it to be your call sign and got it approved.

“I find that hard to believe,” you say. 

“I just like driving you insane,” he admits with a smirk, and now you’re more reminded of the Hangman you know. “It gives me great pleasure to get under your skin. You never know how to fake that look on your face whenever you’re mad—it’s very funny.”

“You’re a dick.”

“Sure.” He shrugs.

The edges of your mouth twitch. “Fine, come in. I have beer. Or wine if that’s what you prefer.”

Jake contemplates about it—because like what he thought of earlier when he arrived on your porch, it’s unwise to be here. It wasn’t like in TOPGUN or the Hard Deck wherein there were other people around you for him to always be cautious of his actions; he’s afraid that he slips up or let his repressed romantic interest in you get the best of him since he has you alone.

At the same time however, he just didn’t care enough about the consequences for him to miss this chance of getting to know you better. 

“Beer would be nice,” he tells you as he steps inside.

You nod and turn to head to the kitchen.

The house is a standard bungalow. When you walk in, you’re met with the living room, and then a few steps away from that is the kitchen. On the left side of the house, there’s a hallway leading to what Jake assumed to be the bedroom and washroom. He takes a seat on the sofa upon your instruction, scanning his surroundings and taking in the actuality of the situation he allowed himself to be in.

“Here you go.” You hand him an opened beer and he mutters his thanks, watching you go to the chair near him and plop down.

There’s silence, the two of you just drinking. You engage in small talk for a while, conversing about the most trivial things and matters that he’s not that even keen to know. The topic bounces on and on, until he can’t help but finally break it, impatient now and wanting to know what’s really been going on with you for the past few days.

You smile, amused by his little outburst. “You really want to talk about what’s bothering me?”

“I'm certainly not here to drink and talk about how hot it is on the beach.” He points out. “Just get on with it. You don’t have to tell me your whole life story. Just tell me why you’ve been gone since the accident.”

He catches you wince at the mention of an accident. “I’m resting.”

“You’re resting?”

“Yeah. It’s what Maverick wants me to do. He insists that I take a breather and then go back once I’m feeling better.”

“And have you been feeling better?”

“No,” you admit. “Actually, I…” you hesitate, flickering your eyes to Jake who’s listening intently. “Fuck, I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You’re the last person I should be—”

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“I know. But that’s the thing, Hangman,” you say. “I think I have to tell someone about it or else I’ll end up more conflicted about the whole thing. And you know what? You might actually be the right person for this.”

“How come?”

“Because I don’t give a damn whether I have  your approval or not.”

He scoffs out a laugh. “Wow. Thanks, I guess?”

You grin; you loved teasing him as much as he did the same to you. “I’m planning to quit.”

His hand halts as he’s raising it to get another sip of the beer. He didn’t expect you to drop the bomb that quickly. “What?”

“I want to quit.”

“Because of what? Because of a near death experience? I know your record, and this isn’t even the first time you experience an occurrence that involved—”

“It’s the third time,” you clarify before he’s even done speaking. “I promised myself I’d quit if I almost ended up dead three times.”

“That sounds ridiculous. You know that, right?”

“I never wanted to be a fighter pilot, Hangman.” You confess and he’s stunned by the revelation.

It seemed impossible and untrue. You graduated at the top of your class and you have the reputation of being one of the best in the field. Your leadership skills were top tier, your flying was superb, and you were fearless in the face of danger. He didn’t understand how a person who didn’t want this occupation to have all those qualities and be an overall amazing naval aviator.

“You’re lying,” he says, not knowing how to reply to that other than accusing you of being a liar.

You lean back on your chair, bringing your feet up and holding your knees together. “It’s because of my dad. It’s the typical shit you hear about a daughter wanting her dad’s approval. He’s just… he used to be a fighter pilot himself—and then he got into an accident, lost one of his legs after it happened, and got forced to retire.” You bring the rim of your beer bottle to your lips. “I think he was depressed for a while. He didn’t talk that much anymore and when he did, he was always so angry. Mom always encouraged him to talk to a therapist, just to release all the pent up frustration he must be feeling about what happened, but he refused. He didn’t believe in therapy. He was convinced that he could solve it all on his own.

“Anyway, I don’t know what I was thinking, but I thought if I could live the life he couldn’t continue and be a naval aviator myself, he’d feel better—or at least, he’ll be the father I used to have. Turns out I was right. Do you know how much he changed when I told him I sent an application to the Naval Academy? He was so pleased. He did a complete 360. Suddenly, it felt like I was his daughter again. It was clear to me then that if I wasn’t Goldie, I wasn’t anyone worth knowing.” You bite your lip, trying not to get emotional. Jake can see that, noticing how your lips are slightly quivering and how you’re avoiding eye contact. “But in a way, I still had some self-respect left. So that’s why I told myself that if I almost get myself killed in three different instances, I’d quit and I wouldn’t care about what Dad thinks. I’ll just go and live my life how I’d want to live it.”

“And last time was the third time.” He reiterates.

“Yep.”

He nods and downs the last gulps of beer.

There’s that silence again, but it’s not awkward. Jake is absorbing everything you just shared to him and you’re trying not to regret the fact that you told all of that to Jake. It’s a story you’re not used to disclosing to just anyone, especially not to someone like Jake who before this night was the reason why your temper was often brought to its highest limits. Yet you can’t deny that a huge weight has been lifted off your whole body thanks to the impromptu venting session; you appreciate the manner in which he stayed quiet and let you finish talking, not once interrupting and not once taking his attention away from you.

“Does Maverick know about this?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’m already drafting my request for resignation.”

“You know that most of the time, those requests get rejected, right?”

“Yeah.” You groan, finishing your beer as well. “But I don’t care. I’d at least try. Then if they won’t allow me, maybe I’ll just orchestrate a fourth near death experience and—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Jake cuts you off and you raise your eyebrows at him. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”

“I was just joking.”

“It’s not a good joke. You know better than to joke about things like that.” He’s serious, the most serious you’ve seen him in a long time.

He’s right. You know he is and it pains you to admit it to yourself. You swallow hard, abruptly ashamed. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just all over the place these days.”

“It’s fine.”

“I was being stupid.”

“You’re going through a hard time.”

“I’m sorry for trauma dumping.”

“It’s alright, Goldie.”

You stand up, getting his empty bottle and trudging to the kitchen to place them on the counter. “If you want to go, you’re free to. It’s late.”

“I can stay here if you need company.”

You laugh humorlessly. “I don’t need babysitting.”

“It’s not babysitting.” He pushes himself off his seat and follows you. “I just don’t feel good leaving you in this state. You’re clearly not okay.”

“I’m okay,” you correct him. “Like I said, I’m just all over the place these days. I need time alone to think and be sure of what I want to do.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’d be a great loss to the Navy if you quit.”

You snort. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do. Why do you think I like pissing you off? It’s because you’re competition. You’re almost as good as me.”

You’re leaning on the counter and Jake’s standing beside you, his hand a few inches from your waist. 

“Actually, I’m better than you, Hangman.” You smirk. “And maybe so is Rooster. He’s certainly better than you when it comes to being a leader.”

“Yeah, but I’m faster than him.”

“You’re reckless compared to him.”

“I can beat him in a dogfight.”

“He doesn’t leave his teammates behind.”

“Yeah, he forces them to go as slow as he is.”

“It’s not a bad thing. He’s being careful.”

“Slow doesn’t equate to being careful.”

“It doesn’t matter. I like him better than you anyways.”

“You like him better? You sure about that?”

You don’t know how it happened but you’re suddenly standing very close to Jake, your faces tilted towards each other that you’re certain if one of you moves any nearer, you’ll end up kissing. You’re reminded of how the squadron often teases you both, saying that the reason you bickered a lot was because of the sexual tension that both of you shared, but you always made an effort to deny it, declaring that there was no way in hell that you saw Hangman in the sense and you’d rather make out with a frog than the said cocky pilot.

Being in this situation with him right now though? After sharing a beer and letting yourself show your most vulnerable side to him? Seeing how genuinely concerned he is for you? How he actually see you as a highly skilled and capable naval aviator? It messes with your head a bit, makes you think that maybe you’re just really excellent with pretending that you’re not affected by his stupidly handsome smile, or drawn to gazing at his toned body whenever he’s in his uniform, or distracted when he’s sputtering off nonsense meant to rile you up and instead you’re noticing how pink his lips are, how soft they must be, how dozens of girls have fallen victim by his charm and how good he must at working those lips of his…

“You’re staring,” he whispers.

Your eyes move up. “What?”

Jake grins, like he understands what’s happening at this second. “You’re staring at my mouth, Goldie,” he says. “Is there something on my mouth?”

You shake your head. Your cheeks are warming up. Your heart is beating faster. You’re aware that he’s teasing, that he wants to get a reaction from you, and you’re annoyed that he’s getting what he wants. “It’s late,” you repeat your statement from earlier. “You should head back. Get some sleep.”

He thankfully steps back and you exhale.

“When are you coming back?” he asks.

“I’m not sure.” You start leading him to the front door. 

Once you’re there and opening the door for him, he stops for a second, looking at you. “Hey, if you need someone to talk to… you can call me, alright?”

You find yourself smiling in amusement. “Tonight doesn’t make us friends, Hangman.”

“Good.” He returns the smile, sly and that teasing glint still in his eyes. “I don’t want to be friends.”

Before you can quip back a reply, he’s saying goodnight and marching down the steps of your porch, going inside his car and driving off.

****

You came back two days later and returned like you never left.

He didn’t talk to you again after that night. You didn’t call if ever you did need someone to talk to, and he didn’t approach you unless he really had something to say. You two weren’t avoiding the other per se; there just wasn’t a need to be within the other’s vicinity nor the obligation to initiate the conversation that much. However, in Jake’s case, he wanted to check on how you were doing, especially after being briefed on why you were having second thoughts about your position in the Navy—he just didn’t think it was okay for him to do so, not when he had a feeling that you didn’t want acknowledge the fact that you did tell him your story out of everyone in the squadron.

Eventually, it was decided and announced by Cyclone that Maverick would be appointed team leader to conduct the mission, seeing him to be the most fit among the graduates he was supposedly training for the job. Maverick chose Phoenix and Bob to accompany him, picked Rooster along with Payback and Fanboy to head the second strike team, and assigned Hangman as the emergency action pilot.

Jake saw how you were disappointed not to be given responsibility for anything for the mission, which didn’t make sense since you didn’t even want to be here in the first place. He figured you must have been looking forward to being appointed nonetheless, maybe driven by your desire to make your father proud still that you were willing to go on this dangerous operation to please him.

“Hey,” you called just as he was about to hop on his aircraft. “Be careful out there, okay?”

He grinned, tilting his head at you in a mocking manner that makes you regret for saying anything. “Are you going soft on me, Goldie?”

You scoffed, but you were flashing him a grin in an instant. “You wish. I just don’t want you to get yourself killed so I can do it myself.”

“Yeah, that’s totally why.”

“Shut up, Bagman.”

He gave you a wink before carrying on with what he was doing while you made a show of rolling your eyes before walking away.

After that, despite how the events weren’t as smooth sailing as you liked, nobody ended up arranging anyone’s funeral and Jake was even hailed as one of the heroes since he successfully saved Maverick and Rooster when they were heading back to the carrier. 

And now, the whole squadron is doing some kind of post-mission celebration. It’s held in the Hard Deck, the bar near the naval base, and as Jake drinks with the rest of the crew and secretly relishes how everyone no longer saw him as only an arrogant pilot but an arrogant and reliable pilot, he finds himself trying to spot you among the crowd of aviators and every significant staff that made this mission successful, wishing he can know what are your thoughts about what has happened today.

“You see Goldie anywhere?” Jake asks Javy, placing the empty bottle of beer on the counter.

Javy scans the area and shakes his head. “No. But I think I saw her going out earlier.”

Jake nods.

Without further ado, he decides to go out of the bar and try starting his search there. He’s grateful he doesn’t need to explore the whole seaside to spot you plodding to where he’s guessing your car is parked, your legs wobbly and all, appearing you’re preoccupied with no regard to your surroundings that allow him to catch up beside you inconspicuously. As soon as you notice him though, you’re blinking multiple times, pausing for you’re surprised to see him here when you know he should be with the others.

“Jake,” you say, and he ignores the odd feelings that erupt in his chest upon hearing his name from your lips. “What are you—”

“Welfare check,” he explains. “Where are you going?”

You laugh out loud. He realizes you’re a bit drunk. “These welfare checks are becoming frequent.”

“It’s the second time. Don’t exaggerate.”

“Two times is too much for you.”

He changes the subject. “You’re not planning to drive home when you’re drunk, are you?” 

“No, I’m not that stupid.” You scoff. “But I was planning to sleep in my car, just until I’m feeling okay to drive.”

“I can drive you home.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Let me do it anyway.”

You stare at him and he holds the stare, green eyes piercing through yours that you can feel right in your core. You’re mesmerized, caught in the moment, similar to that time in your kitchen, and before you understand your actions, you’re handing him your keys and going to the passenger’s side.

****

You don’t verbally invite him in but he follows you regardless, taking the sign of you opening the door wider for a few seconds as he walks from behind the invitation itself. You allow him to act as some shadow as you cross the living room and go to the kitchen to get a water bottle from the fridge, no words spoken from the both of you, and it’s only when you turn around to say something that it’s dawning onto you how it was maybe a bad idea to have him over.

You trust Jake as a man who won’t take advantage of you, but you don’t trust yourself with the thoughts you’ve been having about him lately. After that night when he did his first ‘welfare check’, you couldn’t shake him off your mind as fast as you usually could; you’ve spent a lot of your free time thinking of him and how you don’t exactly hate being in his presence like you’ve been telling yourself. Worse, you’re considering how you might truly be attracted to his infamous charm, captivated by that Texan accent and confidence whenever he went, steering the attention of everybody in the room.

You watch him take slow strides in your direction. You’re not moving, you’re not attempting to get away, and when he stops directly in front of you, your heart is doing that thing again—palpitating and striving to burst out of your ribcage.

“Are you going forth with your resignation?” he suddenly asks.

“Not yet, I suppose. I talked to Maverick about it today, and he’s offering to endorse me to the Admiral and Vice Admiral to make me an instructor in TOPGUN.”

“And are you taking it?”

“Maybe.”

The lights inside the house aren’t open. It’s only the lamp you had beside your sofa; its warm hue illuminates your faces and creates this sense of intimacy that you can’t brush off. Jake’s expression tells you he’s in deep thought, as if he’s having a dilemma of his own, and you’re under the impression that perhaps he’s confused with what’s going on right now as much as you are.

“If you take that job, then you’re staying here, aren’t you?” he guesses, and you shrug.

“Most likely.”

“Then there’s no chance we’ll be deployed again in the same squadron.”

“I wouldn’t say there’ll never be a chance again but—it’s a high possibility,” you say. “Why? Can’t stand to be directly in the same team as me anymore?”

He chuckles. “Partly.”

“Partly?” you exclaim. “You really don’t like me that much, huh?”

“It’s not that. You think I’d be here if that was the case?”

“You said the other day you didn’t want to be friends.”

“Yeah, and being friends is still the last thing I want with you.”

“Fine by me. My feelings are very much mutual, I assure you.”

“Are you sure? Maybe you’re not understanding what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I mean I’m glad we won’t be placed in the same squadron again because there wouldn’t be a conflict of interest.”

You’re left speechless, the implication of his words causing you to overthink. Is he telling you what you think he’s telling you? Are you completely missing his point? Is he just messing with you? Playing mind tricks to have you wrapped around his finger? Whatever it is—whether your suspicions are right or not—you don’t let yourself think about it further, for this tension between the both of you is heightening and there’s a voice in your head that tells you to kiss him to find out what he really sees you as.

So you do. You kiss him, closing the gap between your lips and throwing your arms around his neck to tug him closer. It’s probably because you’re drunk that you’re brave enough to execute such a crazy gesture; you think how liquid courage indeed does wonders to your brain and your ability to know what’s wrong and right. And you can literally hear the gears in Jake’s brain moving as he stands there, hesitant at first to reciprocate, but eventually succumbing to it with an intensity you didn’t know he’s capable of giving, a hand falling on your hip while the other presses against your cheek, his fingertips inching forward to your hair that you quietly moan at.

Every sense you have is enhanced as the two of you make out. You can discern the pounding of your hearts; you can hear every pleased sound he makes as well as yours; you’re aware of every action he does, what he decides to do with his hands which moves to your waist, to your back, and lower… and even lower than that… 

However, it ends as fast as it starts, and before you can properly react, Jake’s already breaking the kiss.

 He looks grudging. It’s clear that he didn’t want to stop. “You’re drunk,” he whispers, an explanation to why he still did.

“Just tipsy,” you correct, about to try kissing him again but he dodges it, instead placing a lingering kiss on your cheek that spreads chills all over.

“We’re not sleeping together unless you’re sober.” His lips are on your ear, and you’re awfully getting mixed signals. It’s like he’s saying no yet continuously seducing you.

“I’m not that drunk.”

“I drove you home because you are.”

“No, you insisted on driving me home.”

“Because you were planning to sleep in your car, Goldie. Come on, are you seriously arguing with me on this?”

You groan, frustrated. Your head is starting to hurt because of the aftermath of the kiss and the thinking and the analyzing when it comes to what he’s saying to you and the actions he’s showing tonight.  “Am I getting the signals wrong? Isn’t the reason you went here because you want to sleep with me? You just told me you didn’t want to be friends—because obviously, friends don’t fuck.”

Jake’s laughing once more. It certainly doesn’t seem you’re sober from the way you’re talking to him, too blunt and careless. “You didn’t read the signals wrong. I do want to sleep with you.”

“Then why are you rejecting me? I’m practically begging here. It’s goddamn embarrassing.”

“____,” he utters your name, still grinning in amusement yet his features are softer now as he stares at your half-lidded eyes boring into him, “if you were any other girl who’s asking me, I’d gladly sleep with you. You’re not some girl though—and I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“What?”

“I want to date you.”

“Okay, hold on.” You whip your head back in shock but you’re not pushing him away which Jake takes as a good sign. “Are you kidding? You better not be messing with me right now.”

“I’m not messing with you.”

“There’s no way in hell you want to date me, Hangman.”

“I’m pretty sure I do.”

“You don’t even know me that well.”

“It’s not like I’m asking you to elope and run away with me.” He chuckles and steps away, giving you a bit of room to breathe. “I’m just saying I like you and I want to get to know you better.”

You stare at him, waiting for the punchline that’s never going to arrive. “You’re nuts.”

“Hey, you’re the one who kissed me.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I thought you only wanted sex!”

“I still want sex.” He smirks and you squint at him in distaste. “But after a couple dates maybe. I take it slow with women I actually like.”

“You take it slow? You?”

“In relationships and in bed—if that’s your thing.”

“God, you’re giving me a migraine.”

You head to the part of the kitchen where you have a pouch of medicine for instances like these. From your peripheral vision, you see Jake already getting your unfinished water bottle to hand it to you as soon as you popped the aspirin in your mouth. 

“We can talk about this tomorrow,” he says. “You should rest.”

“I should wake up from this nightmare.”

“I didn’t know jumping on me and begging for sexual intercourse was part of your nightmares, Goldie.”

“Fuck you.”

He grins. “Go to bed. I’ll leave right after.”

“How are you going back to the Hard Deck?”

“I’ll book an Uber.”

“Okay.”

You let Jake usher you to your bedroom, saying that he’ll visit you first thing in the morning. You tell him that he doesn’t have to bother but he replies that he needs to do another welfare check which you roll your eyes at, reckoning that it was cute the first time but now it was getting old and corny. He just laughs at you, for what seems like the nth time that evening, the reality of what happened between the both of you is beginning to sink in—and you’re not freaking out anymore. You think you kind of like it; you like the idea of Jake taking you seriously and conveying how serious he is by making his intentions clear.

“Good night, darlin’,” he says, brushing a portion of your hair away from your face.

You take a deep breath. You still kind of want to jump on him still but you immediately push those inappropriate thoughts away.

“Good night, Jake.”

****

The next day, a huge part of you genuinely thinks that everything that transpired last night was only an infuriating almost-sex dream. 

You would have slept all day if it wasn’t for the heat of the sunlight seeping through your windows. When you opened your eyes, you saw that it was past 11 a.m. and your head was already killing you, causing you to sit up and head groggily towards the kitchen to wash your face, brush your teeth, and find the aspirin that could help with the headache. You’re the type of person who prevents a matter from worsening while it’s still possible, and you don’t want to spend the rest of your day wincing and complaining about your condition when it could easily be solved.

The moment you swallow the medicine, your brain thinks it’s the perfect time to bombard you with memories of what commenced the day prior. In an instant, you’re remembering the drinking, and then Jake driving you home, that odd tension between you two, and—oh, God. The kiss. The conversation after the kiss. Jake confessing what he felt for you and what he was going to do about it now that he said it out loud.

As if on cue, a knock pulls you away from your thoughts and like a robot, you mechanically go to your door to greet whoever it is that’s on the other side. You don’t even have the energy to peek through the curtains first like you usually do, and you realize that it’s a huge mistake that you forgot that step because once you’re swinging the door open, there’s Jake on your porch.

“Woah, not so fast.” He puts a firm hand on your door as you attempt to shut it on his face, very reminiscent of the other night. “I see you’re not planning on using an amnesia card on me because of yesterday.”

You grimace at the reminder. “Go away. My head hurts and I can’t deal with you today.”

“Good thing I bought hangover soup then. Can I come in?”

“No.”

“What if I say please?”

“Still no.”

“Alright, come on,” he’s still resisting the force you’re putting on the door to close it, “at least take the soup.”

You glance at the paper bag he’s holding and reach for it. However, he slyly moves it to the opposite direction.

“Hangman.” You grit your teeth.

“If you’re taking the soup…” he trails, “then that means you’re agreeing to a date. Will you still take it?”

It’s ridiculous. It’s such a middle school tactic, you think—yet there’s a little something fluttering inside your chest, a bit amused at how Jake is approaching this. There’s truly nothing like a man who goes out of character for the woman he adores; from the manner in which he’s acting, it’s apparent that he’s not afraid to show you a side of his personality that isn’t the usual macho, cocky, and self-absorbed one. Somehow, even if you’re aware that he’s going towards the cheesy route, you’re digging it.

With a roll of your eyes, you snatch the paper bag from his grasp and saunter back to your kitchen.

“Are you coming in or what?” you call, noticing that he hasn’t stepped in.

He strides to where you are, this cheeky look on his face as he reverts to his standard overconfident self. You remark how he goes after you, soon caging you by the sink while you’re getting the utensils from its designated cabinet to use for this so-called hangover soup he brought with him. You’re not fazed despite the proximity and how this scene mirrors last night when you face him, even raising your chin a bit higher to appear further composed.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he says.

Jake makes a familiar show of his eyes flashing from your eyes to your lips, smirking, and just when you think he’s leaning down to continue where you left off, you tease him by placing a palm on his face and gently shoving his face away.

“Shut up, Bagman.”

gentle reminder: this author is a sucker for validation so please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts about this! ♡

[lieutenantfloyd]

Jake misses home.

Maybe not the people or the town he left behind, but the little things. Friday night lights, the rattling sound of cicadas high up in mesquite trees on long summer nights, the smell of red dirt earth before it rains.

Between Jake's flourishing career and trying to build a life together, things between you have been nothing but hectic lately. It'd been months since you both had the opportunity to spend any meaningful length of time together.

Last week, Jake barely managed to shut the front door before yelling that, after having some strings pulled, you'd have you'd one week of time together starting that weekend. The wait was agony, but you persevered knowing that it would all be worth it when you two were alone. Excitement meant you both were packed and ready to go long before it was necessary, but you brushed it off by saying that taking a road trip through multiple states took advanced planning to be successful.

The first 5 days of your trip were blissfully uneventful. Packed with side quests and hours spent flying along beautiful stretches of US highway. This was something you used to your advantage when convincing Jake to let you get behind the wheel on your sixth day. Your defense was, aside from him clearly tiring himself out the days prior, you were only a few states from home in a mostly uneventful area. It took some convincing before he eventually relented, though he only did after you swore to wake him if anything were to happen.

Not even five minutes later, he was passed out in the passenger seat of his truck. Something that gave you ample time to reprogram the GPS and take an exit for a small detour. 

It was just before dinner time when you pulled off the highway and threw his truck into park underneath the glowing orange and white sign.

You sit quietly for a minute, thinking of the best way to wake him, only for him to stir awake now that the highway's rhythmic movements have ended. He's as groggy and whiny as always when you try to get him out of the truck. You choose to ignore his protests and questions as to why you couldn't just go through a drive thru before playing slamming the door in his face and crossing the parking lot alone. You barely make it five feet before he's falling in step with you, still muttering and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Ever the gentleman, you laugh when his pace quickens so he can open the door for you. You step inside, and after deciding they you've played it cool this long, you turn around just in time to see a streak of realization dawn on his face. His hand drops from his eyes as he steps inside behind you. He blinks twice, then three times, before turning slowly on his heel as he takes in his surroundings. Completing his rotation, he faces you with knitted brows, forcing you to bite back a smile.

"Are we...?" He questions, only to turn away and push open the door you'd just entered through. Your smile breaks through as you watch him stare up at the massive Whataburger sign you had parked under.

You didn't have the pleasure—or displeasure, considering the occasional story he'd told you— of knowing Jake in high school, but the man sitting in the plastic booth opposite you looks every bit like the boy you'd seen in worn out yearbook.

Considering that you were still several fly over states away from where he was born and bred, things in this place probably weren't identical to how he remembers them. Though if he minded or even noticed those differences, he made not one mention of it. If anything, the sparkle in his eye as he downed a massive sip of his Dr. Pepper shake told you that he loved it all the same.

Taglist: @rosiahills22 @princessofglitterland @bella-law @callsignaries @blue-aconite @katesmadness @oliviah-25 @another-tblr-fangirl @luckyladycreator2 @eliseline @xoxabs88xox @lisedanie @alexxavicry @madamemelancholysstuff @dozcan123 @withakindheartx @nyx2021 @teti-menchon0604 @sass-masterkittenmama @kmc1989

[tongue-like-a-razor]

AHHHH CONGRATS ON 5K- YOU DESERVE ALL OF THEM AND SO SO MUCH MORE (I’m absolutely obsessed with your account it makes me so happy)

If you’re still taking requests could I have a bbf!Jake one where they’re at a bar again and this time someone really creepy is hitting on baby Bradshaw and even though she’s trying to get away from him, he won’t leave her alone. Cue super Jake to the rescue (and he’s pissed)

I hope this is okay and if not, don’t worry about it :)

THANK YOU SO MUCH AND HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY <333

OOOH I LOVE ME SOME PROTECTIVE JAKE! And thank you sm for your kind words, lovely <3

I'm gonna say this drabble is an extension of Part 4 of BBF but really can probably be read on its own. Here we go!

5k Weekend Bash Drabbles

Brother's Best Friend - N-O Spells No

Jake Seresin x Reader

“C’mon, sweetheart, let me buy you a drink,” says the man with the slicked-back hair and smarmy leer for a third time, taking a seat at your table on the patio.

His friends at a neighboring table guffaw, apparently finding their friend’s persistent approach hilarious. You find it extremely disrespectful. “No, thanks,” you respond, again.

The man’s grin broadens as though your rejection spurs him on. He slides his chair in closer and leans in to whisper something in your ear. But, before he has a chance to speak, you decide that you’ve had enough and rise from your seat. You’d rather forfeit your table than put up with any more of this bullshit.

You start for the door to go into the bar, but the man leaps up to follow you. He catches up with you just as you’re about to enter and takes you by the arm, spinning you around to face him. “You don’t know what you’re missing, honey,” he mutters and his voice makes your skin crawl.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of Jake as he’s about to place his drink order at the counter. The disturbance near the front door has made him glance in your direction and his expression darkens when he sees you. He immediately steps away from the bar, forgetting all about the drinks he just paid for, and marches determinedly toward the door.

Before you could tell the creep to watch out, Jake is outside, curling his arm around your waist to relocate you so that he could turn back and grab a hold of the man’s shirt, ramming him into the wall, back first. “Who the fuck are you?” he growls at the – now cowering – man.

“I’m a friend, I’m a friend!” the man exclaims in alarm, his hands shooting up to show that he’s not looking for a fight.

You give the man a disgusted scowl when he looks over at you pleadingly, hoping that you’ll corroborate his statement. Jake glances over his shoulder at you too. “This true?” he asks. “You know him?”

You’re silent for a moment, wondering what Jake would do if you told him the truth. You really don’t want him getting banned from the Hard Deck for starting a fight on your behalf.

But Jake takes your lack of a response as a no and pulls on the man’s collar just to slam him back into the wall again. The man, to your great satisfaction, looks like he’s about to cry. “She didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend!” the man cries.

Jake grimaces aggressively. “Did she tell you to fuck off?” he asks dangerously.

The man gulps anxiously. “If she’d just told me she was with somebody” –

“What the fuck does that matter?” Jake shoves the man into the wall for a third time and the latter whimpers pathetically. “No is a full fucking sentence.”

“Okay, Jake, that’s enough,” you say, putting your hand on his arm. “I think he got the idea.”

Jake glances down at you with a heavy sigh and then back at the snivelling man. Then, he lowers his head and mutters in a low, intimidating voice, “You come near her again, I’m not gonna be this nice.”

The man nods vehemently and, the moment Jake lets go of him, he slips away, ditching his friends – who, admittedly, hadn’t even come to his aid – as they scramble to collect their things before following him out.

Jake turns to look at you worriedly. “Are you okay?” he asks, taking a step toward you.

You nod. “Yeah, thanks for coming to my rescue,” you reply. “Although, I totally could’ve taken him.”

Jake draws his lips together to keep from smiling; he’s not ready to find the humor in the situation quite yet. “You shouldn’t have had to,” he remarks.

You shrug and meet his gaze. “I’m glad you were here.”

Jake nods and then takes your shoulder and pulls you into an embrace. “Me too,” he says.

You close your eyes, allowing yourself a moment to enjoy the hug because there isn’t often an excuse to lean in while Jake Seresin just holds you. In fact, you can’t think if a single time in recent history when this type of scenario has taken place. Suddenly, you’re not too mad about the creep that almost ruined your day.

“Where’s my brother?” you ask once the two of you separate.

Jake sighs with a grin and shakes his head. “He took off.”

“What? With that chick he just met?”

Jake nods sheepishly, as though he’s somehow to blame for Bradley’s promiscuity. You grin at him. “Perfect,” you say. “Now, we have plenty of time to talk about the thing.”

Jake cringes and lets out a defeated groan.

5k Celly

[inkdrinkerworld]

hi honey!! if you’re still taking requests for your holiday event, can I get ⟼ Cranberry and Peppermint Honey cake with shy!reader and jake seresin pls? love u sm x

Hi baby! They’re still very open!! I hope this is okay, it’s been a while since I wrote for Jake!

“Darlin’ you gonna come out so I can see it?” Jake’s on the other side of your changing stall, a couple of pants options thrown over his forearm as he waits.

You’ve been in there trying on a pair of thick linen blue trousers- something that you’d been eyeing on the stores website.

“I’m not sure if I like it,” you say through the door, though you know Jake is gonna want to see it for himself.

“Can i be the judge of that, pretty thing?” He flirts, listening to the door unlatch and then stepping back so he can see you fully.

The pants look amazing on you and Jake doesn’t hold back from letting you know.

“Babydoll, are these painted on?” He hangs the rest of the pants on the rack of the door and lets his hands hover over the curve and dip of your hips. “Gimme a spin, god damn you look good.”

When you spin, Jake does a low whistle that has you hitting his chest before hiding your face between the muscles of his chest.

“Stop it,” you murmur, completely embarrassed as you clench your eyes shut.

“But these look amazing on you, little lady.” He’s busting out all his southern charm and it’s hard to stay mad when his Texan accent gets all the more thicker for it.

“Jake,” you try for stern but he knows you’re just getting more and more flustered.

“Babydoll,” he says with less ‘vitriol’ and more fondness. “Do you think I’d lie to ya? No I wouldn’t, now go try it with this low cut top,” he produces a top from the selection hanging on the door. “Its gonna be perfect.”

He stamps a kiss to your lips before you can close the door and chuckles when he hears you muttering about ‘southern charm’ and ‘that damn dimple.”

[sebsxphia]

pov. | chapter one.

jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader.

￫ description: you wish you could read jake’s mind in the heat of an argument and see his point of view.

￫ c/w: argument, mentions of sex, swearing, crying, angst, kiddo agenda and jake standing naked in a doorway.

￫ a/n: this is based off mcfly’s song, ‘pov’ which is my favourite song by them. i’d highly recommend listening to it as you read! @seriouslyseresin @callsignmayhem this one’s for the kiddo agenda, and mcfly (plus kiddo agenda) for you @kryptonitejelly! <3 my main masterlist and guidelines can be found here! 💌

￫ edit: chapter two is in the works! please let me know if you want to be tagged! <3

“Jake, I'm getting tired of asking. Is this the final time we’re doing this?”

You sat on the edge of the bed, facing away from Jake and hauling your jeans up your legs. You stood up and wrapped the belt around your waist.

You’re so beautiful in the afterglow. I wish we didn’t have to discuss this now.

Your glance flicked over at Jake who had been uncomfortably quiet since. His body was posed on the contrary. Jake sat up comfortably in his bed with his stupidly toned torso on display. His thousand thread count bedsheets were sprawled out perfectly to cover what lay underneath.

One of his hands lay on his stomach that was still glistening with a sheen of sweat from your prior activities. His other arm was rested behind his soft locks, cradling his own neck and flexing his bicep muscles.

Jake could only raise one eyebrow at you quizzically in response to your question.

Who’s going to be the first to say it? Don’t make me go first.

Was this the final time you were gonna hook up, caress each other’s bodies like lovers and then move on, only for it to rinse and repeat two weeks later?

You were left lingering in the uncomfortable silence until Jake finally parted his lips to speak. He’d given in and spoke first, but you felt your stomach drop ten feet at his question.

“Did I make you happy?”

I hope I did. I hope this makes it easier.

Fuck. You knew what was coming, but no amount of High School breakups could soften the blow.

“Because you cried an ocean when I told you this wasn’t a relationship last week.” Jake continued coldly. This was a matter of fact to Jake and it meant nothing to him.

I’m doing this to protect you, kid.

“You do make me happy, Jake. Relationship or not, you do.” Your voice wavered and you could feel your bottom lip starting to tremble, but you managed to hold your ground. You didn’t want to have to beg and plead for him. You learned very early on that was futile against Jake.

Please don’t beg me, please don’t make this harder than it is.

“Kid, there's a thousand lines about the way you smile written in my mind. But every single word's a lie.”

Another lie.

The final and pummeling blow hit through your very core and it knocked the wind out of your lungs.

“Jake fucking Seresin!” It was a bloody and horrible scream that came from your throat. You were gasping as you tried to catch up with the breath that left your body. It was a scream that made Jake’s own blood run cold.

Your hand twitched at your side and you bent down to throw the first thing you could find. You grabbed Jake’s old navy sweatshirt he’d given you to wear for the night, and threw it across the bed to hit his chest.

Please keep the sweatshirt, kiddo.

Your own chest heaved as you desperately tried to catch up with your labored breaths due to the previous nature of your movement, and because you were fucking pissed.

It was pure and liquid rage that ran hot through your veins. You held your furious gaze with the stupid blonde, who much to your annoyance hadn’t moved a single one of his perfect muscles. The only muscle that twitched was Jake’s cheek. If you were kidding yourself, you would think Jake was biting back tears.

Don’t cry Jake. Don’t cry in front of them.

“Kid-”

You held up a shaking finger to Jake as a firm warning, like scolding a child who’d swore for the first time.

Sorry, baby. Let me make this better, let me tell you I-

Jake parted his lips to speak again, but your finger twisted to point at him as if you were condemning him. You were the judge and executioner now.

“I never wanted everything to end this way, Jake! You have this incredible habit of taking the blue sky that you fly your stupid fucking planes in and making them grey.”

Every time I’m up in the sky, I think of you.

“I swore to you, I swore to you,” your finger planted firmly in your own chest now, “that I would do the best to change and make this work, but here you are telling me it doesn’t matter?”

I should’ve been the one to change. I’m sorry kid.

“I’m looking at you from another point of view. I don’t know how the hell I fell in love with you. I never wish for anyone to feel the way I do.”

The confession left your lips quicker than your brain could register, but it didn’t matter now. Apparently nothing mattered to Jake.

You love me? Kid, please. I lo-

“Maybe this was a sign from heaven? The savior God complex that is ‘Jake fucking Seresin’ is stripped bare for all to see and I can see the light again.”

You spit the last of your deadly venom whilst gathering your shirt and shoes from the floor, slinging them haphazardly over your rigid frame.

“And it doesn’t contain you coming through the fucking clouds this time. I’m better off without you, Jake, so we can leave this entire relationship tonight.”

You grabbed your bag from the wicker chair. The last remaining item of you left in Jake’s room. You stormed out of Jake’s room in a flurry of hot rage and headed for his front door. You wanted to make your escape quick and less painful than this had already been.

You whipped your head around at the sound of Jake coming after you. He stood naked and vulnerable in the doorway connecting to his hallway. He had his old navy sweatshirt bunched up tightly in his hand, angled and reaching out to you.

I need to tell you. I need to tell you how much I lov-

You watched as Jake swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. You heard him suck in a gulp of air through his teeth and wet his bottom lip with his tongue.

You had been patient. You had waited for Jake to tell you you meant something to him, maybe even say “I love you” back, but you were growing irritatingly impatient with each passing second. Your face contorted into a horrible scowl. Eyebrows knitted tightly together and your jaw set tight.

You’re in so much pain. I’m sorry for hurting you, kid.

“It don’t matter.” Jake finally mumbled. He pulled back the sweatshirt and nestled it tightly into his side to keep it safe. To keep it safe from harm.

Your scowl alleviated and turned into a scoff of laughter at your own foolishness. How could you ever believe Jake had feelings for you in the first place? You reached for the lock and clicked it upwards. Your hand rested on the lock and you took one last look at Jake.

If this is the last time I see you, I never want to forget what you look like. I never want to forget the crinkles in your eyes that light up when you smile. I never want to forget the scar on your forearm when you fell off your bike as a kid. I never want to forget the strands of hair that always fall softly in front of your face. I never want to forget you from my point of view, kiddo.

“Don’t you dare come back and try to make things right like you always do. I’ll be ready for a fucking fight this time.”

That was the last thing you said to Jake before his front door was slammed shut and he was left alone in his apartment. Jake had nothing but his sweatshirt that smelled like you left.

When night eventually came, you lay in your bed and stared mindlessly up at your ceiling. Normally you would trace your eyes over the cracks that appeared in the paint when you couldn’t sleep, but something else was eating away at you tonight.

“You said it don’t matter.”

I love you.

“You said it don’t matter.”

I love you.

“You said it don’t matter.”

I love you.

Your index and middle finger tapped on your hand as you rhythmically recounted, out loud, the last thing Jake said to you before you left.

“What was it, Jake? What were you trying to say?”

I love you, kiddo.

taglist:

@tallrock35

@luckyladycreator2

[allisluv]

hello! may i request a flufftober fic where jake's new girlfriend invites him over for a halloween themed movie night, and when he comes over he is surprised by the amount of cozy halloween/autum decorations she has up. and she surprises him with warm apple cider and jack-o-lantern shaped pumpkin cookies and a disney halloween movie marathon and her apartment smells all autumn-y and when he brings up the sheer amount of autumn-ism she is exuding she just shrugs and says 'it's my favorite season'. just jake with a girlie who really loves fall, and doing all the cutesy fall things with her.

flufftober -- day two

pairing: jake seresin x girlfriend!reader

content warnings: new established relationship, use of pet names, not edited but apart from that it's just fluff!

summary: when you invite your boyfriend around for halloween, he's surprised to see how much you love the holiday.

word count: 400

jake wipes his hands down the front of his blue jeans and knocks, knuckles brushing against the autumn wreath hanging from your knocker. your apartment door swings open, casting it's light into the hallway.

jake kisses your cheek and shoves the bouquet of red and orange flowers he bought on the way here into your hands. you smile and it's a cheesy, dorky thing that makes his heart skip a beat. "you look beautiful," he says, stepping into your apartment but stopping short when he sees the dissaray your space is in.

orange tinsle hangs from your ceiling and candles bathe the room in a warm glow. it smells of spice and something sweet, and pumpkins with faces carved into them are placed by the back door.

"shit! our cookies!" you rush past him, throwing on a pair of oven mitts, and rescuing your junk food before they burn to a crisp.

jake peeks his head around the corner, green eyes scanning the sitting room, only to find even more autumn decorations on every available surface. "i take it you like fall, huh?" he asks, grinning as you grab his arm and guide him to sit down on the sofa.

"what gave it away?" you tease, carrying a tray of jack-o-lantern-shaped cookies into the room and setting them down on the coffee table. jake laughs and takes a sip from the glass of warm apple cider that you hand him. "do you like it?" he nods around the rim of his glass. "it's homemade!"

one corner of his mouth twists into a smile and he pecks you on the lips, swallowing your squeal as you melt into his touch.

"what was that for?" you ask, grinning like an idiot, eyes shining with excitement.

jake lifts his shoulders up into a shrug. "just 'cause, sugar." he pulls you in close until you're tucked under his arm. "now, what we gonna watch first?"

you hum thoughtfully. "what about halloweentown."

"sure thing, sweetheart. i've never seen it before." jake winces when your mouth falls agape and you look at him as if he's personally killed your kitten. "i'm gonna regret saying that, aren't i?"

"oh absolutely. we're watching all four of them now."

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Five) (18+) / Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 7.0k / navigation / inbox

A/N: Thank you all for waiting for this chapter! I know it took me longer to finish this one than it did the others but it's the longest chapter so far, and I also had a lot of major life events go down in the time between this chapter and last. I appreciate each and every single one of you who stayed patient with me, and I hope that this chapter and that the rest to come are worth the wait :) <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You’re doing a terrible job at paying attention to where you’re going as you take the elevator, jamming your finger against the 12 button so hard it hurts. Pizza is on the twelfth floor, and you’re hoping Daniel will be there early like you so that you can forget about Jake and his tyrannical rule. 

It’s clear as day to you; Jake thinks he has control over you just the same way he has control over the girls that drool over him at the Hard Deck. He thinks one glance will melt your brain into mush, but it won’t. It doesn’t, and you’re not letting the cockiest man you know believe he’s won you over. Especially one that you work with. If anyone found out- if any of your fellow aviators knew that you’d succumbed to Jake’s charms… you’d risk losing the respect you’ve fought hard to earn on the tarmac. You’re not letting your career take a nosedive because Jake won’t stop bragging about getting his dick wet. He doesn’t get a say in your life if he has nothing genuine to contribute to it. You know him well enough to know that caving in and fucking would be the worst decision of your life, and you refuse to let him feel like he’s won you like a prize. You’re standing up for yourself; if he can shit-talk Daniel, you can shit-talk Miss Melons.

Your skin prickles with annoyance the more you think about the woman that had approached you both- seriously, did she not consider that she was being intrusive and rude? You assume Jake has snagged her away from her roommate by now, and they’re probably having a better time than you are. 

Everything feels unfair, down to the coincidental roommate placement. It’s like the universe had heard you needed a break, and wanted to punish you for it.

Cracking open your book helps, but it takes you a while to get into the groove. You’re sitting poolside across from the pizza place, eyes glancing from page to parlor every once in a while to check for a certain bearded man. The main lead is compelling, and your stomach soars as you imagine Daniel in a cowboy hat. You’d save that horse.

Peace is hard to find while sitting poolside on a cruise, but chaos is actually the perfect white noise for you to read, and your concentration isn’t broken until a shadow falls over your lounge chair. You glance up, but it’s not the man you’d wanted to see.

“Hey.” Jake’s already frowning, his face apprehensive like he thinks you’ll scream at him to get away. You want to, but you don’t want to cause a scene.

“What, Hangman?”

“I’m not trying to control you.” He pushes despite seeing your gaze back on your book, “I just don’t think you’re meant to be with Daniel. But I shouldn’t have given you a hassle for doing the same thing to me. I just… I do it because-”

He stops short, glancing sideways at a man running despite the clear no running sign on the lifeguard tower. You decide to help him in his moment of need.

“Because you’re used to women who let you walk all over them. Even if you’re not trying to control me, you’re used to having that control. It’s familiar for you, so you expect it, even if you don’t know you’re doing it. But I’m not like that. You can’t keep me waiting on you.”

The scoff he lets out is accompanied by an expression that looks truly pained, “That ain’t it at all. But forget it. Don’t worry about why I do it. I just thought maybe you were doin’ it to me for the same reasons. But never mind. I’ll shut up about Daniel. Truce?”

You glare up at him, book still open in your lap. He extends an uncharacteristically helping hand, and you wait a truly uncomfortable amount of time before taking it and shaking once.

“Truce.”

He takes the chair beside you, stretched out in the sun. Unfortunately, it seems like your reading time is over as his head turns to you, “So, Dudley showed up yet?”

“He’s coming for lunch.” You cling to your novel, trying desperately to ignore Jake and his instantly broken promise, “What about Melon girl, they weren’t ripe enough for you?”

“She wasn’t my type.” He starts, and there’s a heavy silence before he continues, “I don’t like a woman who thinks it’s fun to get between a couple.”

The sideways glance you send Hangman, the ‘I-told-you-so’ smirk, is lethal.

“Anyways.” He continues, tone more casual now, “Fancy a swim, darlin’?”

“I’ll read instead,” You offer, “But you have fun, Hangman.”

“Party Pooper,” He accuses, standing from the lounge chair he’s occupying and stretching briefly, “You’re an absolute mood-killer. No fun, the most boring person on this boat.”

“I’m about to be more of one: have you put sunscreen on?”

“Nope,” He grins, “You volunteering to do the honors, you sleazy thing?”

“Absolutely not. But you can use the stuff in my bag.” You nod at your tote bag, “Don’t use it all, though.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jake nods, folding into a seat on the edge of the lounge chair beside yours, “So, what’s going on in that book, they boning yet?”

“Mhm.” You nod absently as Jake begins smearing sunscreen over his arms and legs, “Real sexy stuff.”

“I’ve got somethin’ sexier for you.”

“It’s a porn book, Hangman,” You clarify, in case he’s forgotten, “I’m trying to read porn. Leave me alone.”

“There’s porn right here!” He calls, arms out to show off his impressively tanned and toned chest, a thick layer of sunscreen giving it a sheen that glistens in the light. As reluctant as you are to admire anything about Jake, you can’t lie; he has a body worth ogling. But you will not ogle it.

“This porn’s better,” You hum, glancing up at Jake through your lashes, deceptively inviting, “This guy’s got a cowboy hat on.”

“I’ve got a million and one cowboy hats,” Jake insists, slowly inching towards you and away from the edge of the pool, “Is that really all it takes, darlin’? ‘Cause I can slap one on in seconds, if that’s what you’re after. ‘Even brought one with me in case my roommate was into it.”

“Mm, maybe,” You let him get closer, excitement clearly swirling in his eyes as he advances towards your chair. He doesn’t notice the shifting of your feet until it’s too late and one is shoving firmly against his chest, knocking him off balance and sending him tumbling backwards into the pool.

There’s not anyone in his immediate vicinity besides you, so you take the brunt of the splash, but it’s worth it.

“But I like it better when the hat’s on a real gentleman!” You call, laughter interrupting your words as Jake emerges from the pool well and truly soaked, shaking water out of his hair. He’s been thoroughly underwater trained, so he’d been able to catch his breath in time despite the surprise of it all, and there’s no real harm done besides the initial splash.

“You dirty rotten minx,” He calls, water dripping from his short hair into his eyes, “You lured me in with the promise of cowboy hat sex just to push me in the pool?”

“I can’t believe you fell for it!” You’re still laughing, but maybe this bout of giggles is only to annoy him, “That’s, like, the oldest trick in the book. Well, maybe besides the cowboy hat sex thing. But you shouldn’t have gotten so close!”

He braces his elbows on the wall of the pool, the border surely burning his skin. But he stares at you regardless, “I thought you were finally givin’ in.”

“It’d take a lot more than a cowboy hat to make me give in, Jake.” You laugh, turning back to your book, “Like, a full personality transplant.”

Jake hears Danica’s words repeated back to him in his head, ‘Show, don’t tell’.

“Noted. I’ll look into one’uh those,” He quips, smile sarcastic and empty as he resorts to swimming alone, “Hey, when you’re done with that chapter, you should join me.”

“No.”

“Alright.”

You glance away from the book’s pages at Hangman’s unusual, immediate acceptance of your refusal. But he lifts himself out of the water- no stairs, no ladder, only his forearms against the deck, and your stomach sinks as you realize he might be playing a game of wills with you.

Instead, he sits beside you again, this time facing away from you, “Will you rub some sunscreen on my back?”

You want to say no. You would, if he were only asking to feel your hands on him. And maybe that’s part of it, but you also know that as much as he tans, he could burn, and his back is the only part of himself that he can’t reach. You’d want someone to do you the solid too, so you sigh and set your book aside.

“Fine. But you owe me.”

“Mhm.” He nods, passing you the sunscreen, “I’ll rub it wherever you want, Y/N.”

You whack him upside the head with the bottle, and when he hisses in pain and pitches forwards, you squirt some of the lotion onto your palm and begin applying it to the broad, tanned, muscled expanse of his back.

You’re no masseuse, but apparently you’re rubbing all the right places, because Jake lets out grunts and groans that are borderline pornographic. If they were coming from anyone else, you might have squirmed in your seat, but each one sends your eyes rolling skywards as you cover Jake’s skin in goopy sun lotion.

“Damn, you’re good.” Jake grunts as you dig into a knot beneath his shoulder blade, “Do that again?”

“I’m putting sunscreen on you, Jake, not working out muscle tension.”

“Oh, come on, just a little more?” He pleads, turning so that he can glance at you from the side of his gaze, eyes shining in prayer.

You dig extra hard into his muscle, and you take some sort of wicked pleasure in the way that his resulting groan is more of a pained yelp than something of enjoyment. 

“There, Hangman.” You whack the middle of his back, between his shoulder blades, “You’re all oiled up.”

“Aren’t you glad you were the one to get to do it?” Jake grins blindingly, and you bury your nose in your book again to avoid answering his question.

“Oh, you can stick your face in that book all you want,” Jake drawls, and you hear the displacement of the water he steps in as he lowers himself into the pool, gracefully and by choice this time, “But I know you liked having your hands all over me, darlin’.”

You want to gripe something back- something witty and cutting that will tear him down where he stands, but he’s turned away from you, already submerging himself to begin swimming laps. You admire his dedication to exercise even while on vacation- you have no plans to visit the gym in the lower decks.

Jake sees the diving board just as you do, and you keep him in your peripheral vision as he climbs out of the pool to make his way up the ladder. Your novel is begging to be read, but your eyes stick firm on one fitting word- ‘abdomen’ so that you can watch Jake from the corner of your eye as he prepares to dive.

Fortunately, you don’t need to continue the ruse of reading because Jake bellows from across the deck, “Y/N, look!”

You’re met with a grin when you look up at him, his arms raised above his head and joined flush together in diving position, “I’m gonna dive- watch me.”

“I’m watching.” You call, injecting your voice with as much disinterest as you can manage without feeling guilty, “This feels like babysitting, Hangman.”

He dives instead of quipping back, and it’s an impressive one, not that you’ll sing his praises for it. He comes up on the side of the pool closest to you, arms flinging an arc of water onto the concrete before you.

“Was it good?” He asks, panting slightly, hanging onto the wall.

“Yes,” You reply, a sickly sweet smile on your face as you condescend to him, “You did so good, honey.”

“Shut up,” He sends a wave of water splashing over your sandals, and you can’t be mad at him after all the teasing you’ve been inflicting upon him.

“I’ve been workin’ on my diving,” He goes back to swimming around, this time more casual as he keeps his head above the water to speak with you, “My nieces back home are learnin’ to swim so I’ve been in the pool a lot lately. Anytime they drag me in there I dive in and splash them.”

His arms cut through the water with strength and ease, confident strokes as you mull over his words. The image of Jake urging a toddler in floaties to cross a 3-foot gap into his arms is- endearing, not that you’ll admit it. You hum in acknowledgement, and tuck back into your book.

There’s not many people in the pool this early- most are probably still in bed with a hangover and a mess to clean up - and it’s large to boot, so there’s plenty of room. Your eyes drift left and catch sight of a jacuzzi, and suddenly your beach chair seems to pale in comparison.

Okay, you won’t join Jake in the pool, but you’ll relax for a couple of minutes in the jacuzzi. Just until Daniel gets here.

Jake doesn’t notice that you’ve stood until your chair is empty, and you have a perfect view of him floundering, scanning the entire deck until he spots you half-submerged in the hot tub.

You get to laugh at him again, and he grants you a good-natured grin instead of getting annoyed.

“I thought you’d finally found what’s-his-name,” Jake swims over to the separation wall that keeps the hot water parted from the cold, “Mind if I join you, Y/N?”

“Only if you’re- careful!” You shriek, trying desperately to protect the pages of your book from his sopping wet skin as he scales the barrier, “Hangman, if this book gets wet, you’re replacing it for me.”

“Alright, alright! I’ll take you on a shopping spree, relax. Hey, if I’m buyin’ you porn books, doesn’t that make me somethin’ like a sugar daddy?”

“You’re not getting any sugar,” You shrug, “But sure.”

“Just call me daddy, Y/N.” He grins, “That’s all the sugar I need.”

You hide behind your book so that he can’t see the way your face wrinkles into a grimace. The heat from the jacuzzi spreads inexplicably quick all of a sudden, warming your neck, your ears, your face, and Jake lets out a thick, heavy groan as he settles into the warm water.

“This is nice.” He muses, eyes closed, “Real relaxing.”

“It’s less relaxing when someone’s talking the whole time,” You peek across the side of your book, “Shut up, maybe?”

Jake snorts, leaning his head back against the edge of the pool, “Alright, alright your majesty. I’ll stay silent.”

You don’t verbally thank him, but you don’t make a scene when his leg drifts across the jet currents of the jacuzzi to brush against yours.

You cover a good chunk of your novel before a voice calls your name, and this time it’s the two people you’d been hoping to see all morning. Danica waves giddily at you and Jake, who’s picked his head up from where you thought he’d fallen asleep and is already mad-dogging Daniel. You wave back to Danica, and cast a quick glance down at your bathing suit before standing to greet Daniel. It’s just as tight and showy as you prefer it to be. 

You pay no attention to Jake where he gets out behind you, too focused on Daniel to care. But perhaps you should have, because you’re two steps from meeting Daniel in the middle when Jake’s strong arm shoves you sideways, and your book is wrenched from your grasp as you fall sideways into the pool.

It’s cold, colder even because you’d been soaking in the hot tub. You’re surprised, but you suppose you can’t even really be mad at him considering it’s just payback for what he’d done to you.

You’ve barely righted yourself in the water before there’s another splash beside you, and when you finally emerge there’s hands reaching for your waist, Daniel’s as you realize he’d jumped in to help you. 

“You-!” You splutter at Jake with bleary, chlorine-soaked eyes, attention split between Daniel who’s trying to ensure you’re alright, and Jake who’s snickering while holding your book in his thankfully dry hand.

“You asshole.” Daniel finishes for you, “She could have drowned!”

“I know how to swim,” You brace a hand on Daniel’s chest- startlingly bare, but riddled with coarse, brown hair, “It’s fine, I- I pushed him in earlier.”

“Relax, Prince Charming. It’s just a bit of payback. And look,” Jake waves your novel in front of you, “Dry as a bone.”

“Well I am- uh, not.” You stand half-submerged in the pool, Daniel still holding onto your waist, “So, I guess I will go swimming.”

“Great. You can swim with us.” Daniel smiles, warm and inviting as he keeps his hands on you.

“Yeah, us.” Jake agrees, taking Danica’s towel and spreading it over a sunny lounge chair for her.

Jake helps lower Danica gently into the pool, holding her hand while she takes the stairs, before jumping in beside you so that you’re splashed by the wave he creates.

“You are an asshole,” You laugh, breaking away from Daniel’s grip to shove at Jake’s shoulder. The grins on your faces are bright and genuine, perhaps the first time you’ve both been able to laugh with each other the entire trip. It feels nice, and you don’t fight when he shoves back at you with strong arms.

“Hey- hey!” Danica shouts, standing behind Daniel with a hand on his shoulder, “Why don’t you turn that pushing and shoving into a game of chicken?”

“I’m down,” Daniel seems thrilled to be opposite Jake as he lowers himself for Danica to climb atop his shoulders, “Y/N, you okay on his shoulders?”

Jake does the honors himself, dunking himself under the water and coming up between your legs. You barely have time to plant your hands on the top of his head, fingers twisting instinctively into his hair as you accidentally tug it while he stands at his full height again.

“Shit, sorry Hangman.” You let go of his hair, hoping you hadn’t yanked too hard. He’s forgiven, for now, so you won’t resort to childish things like hair-pulling.

“That’s okay, darlin’.” He grins, craning his neck back to meet your eye, “I like it when you tug on my hair.”

You have to overlook Jake’s suggestive comment as Danica’s already reaching for you, and you eagerly engage in a shoving match while the two men beneath you plant themselves into the bottom of the pool. You manage to get a leg up on Danica, and they’re both pushed backwards by the force of your shove, but Daniel surges forwards and ends up knocking you and his roommate right into each other.

You collapse against Danica, forehead-to-forehead, giggling like little girls. Her eyes are bright and shining with amusement, and her breath smells minty- like gum, not toothpaste. You’re more than happy to begin pushing at each other again, and though you’re confident your navy-built muscles are going to prevail, she lands a critical shove against your shoulder that throws you off-balance and sends you toppling off of Jake’s shoulders.

The water is cold, colder than you remember as you splash into it, and when you come up for air, already laughing, Jake’s facing you, having turned when you’d fallen from his shoulders. He’s grinning too, a hand already outstretched to help you up, but upon seeing you stand his eyes widen and his face drops.

“Shit.” He lunges for you, cutting through the water as his arm wraps around your back to yank you tight against his chest. You protest, grunting with exertion as you try fighting against his grip. But his muscles are impressive, and you’re trapped against his chest despite your best efforts.

“Would you cut it out? I’m trying to help you. Your top came untied.”

“What?” You splutter, water trailing down your face as you quell your instinctive struggle against his crushing hold. You realize that the reason for the extreme cold had, in fact, been because your bikini top had abandoned ship, and you barely have time to process the feeling of your bare tits slammed up against Jake’s hard, toned chest before he’s fishing the bathing suit out of the water and feeding it around your waist.

“Up,” He instructs, lifting his eyes to the expansive blue sky above you so that you can separate yourself from his chest for long enough to cover your own again. It’s- a strange gesture of courtesy that you would have expected from Daniel, sure, but not Jake. Perhaps that’s why you’re so sluggish, why it takes you longer than expected to fit your top back over your tits and grapple with the strings.

“You decent?” Jake asks, and when you grunt in confirmation he drops his eyes again. He notices you struggling with the ties and reaches for them himself, gently swatting your fingers away as he uses his advantage of sight. It presses his muscular shoulder up against your face, and you turn so that your cheek rests against it instead of your nose. Suddenly you’re held against his chest like a slow dance, and something terribly and inexplicably squirmy happens in your stomach.

“Done. I double knotted it.” He hums, and it’s such a sincere tone, one that’s completely vacant of all his usual dickishness, that you lose yourself staring at his face when he pulls away. You begin examining it for any sign that perhaps he was murdered and replaced with a poorly-trained doppelganger.

His hair looks right, albeit sopping wet. His eyebrows are growing slightly bushier than usual, but nothing you’d consider a complete and total imposter. His nose is still the same: strong, slightly downturned (though not as far as Rooster’s), and there’s a tiny patch of sunscreen that hasn’t been rubbed in near his right eye. His mouth is set in a determined purse as he double knots the strings of your bikini top together, and his eyes- his eyes are different.

Miles different than you’ve ever seen them. The outside edge of his hazel-green rings is softened, like someone has blurred their usual sharp border and lined it with suede. His pupils are huge, and they’d be eclipsing his irises if those weren’t so big and puppy-like. He is, in every sense of the word, gentle, inside and out. 

Jake has never been gentle before. 

“You alright?” He asks, and you snap back to reality with his large hands spread over the expanse of your bare back, the eyes that you’d been examining firmly and concernedly fixed upon you. Only a few meager strings separate his skin from yours, and you nod once, steadily as you gently push his arms off of you.

“Let’s go again,” You call to Danica and Daniel, your voice a piss-poor attempt at strength and nonchalance as it lacks its usual life, “Good hit, Danica. But watch out, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Bring it,” She grins gleefully, and her giddy gaze drifts downwards to Jake’s face when he lifts you onto his shoulders yet again. From the looks of it they share some sort of silent conversation- some inside joke that you’re not privy to. 

Something about that, something about her excluding you from a conversation with your own teammate makes you shove her, not enough to knock her off of Daniel’s shoulders, but enough to show her that you’re not going easy on her. She shrieks giddily as she writhes to stay balanced on Daniel’s shoulders, a smidge less broad than Jake’s. You’re thankful for that, for the steady mount you’ve got, as you resume pushing and shoving at Danica.

Jake is going insane. Not only does the phantom sensation of your bare tits- nipples hard from the chilly pool water - stick to him like a wet t-shirt, he can feel you against the back of his neck, your warm sex nestled snugly against him with only the bottom half of your bikini to separate you. Your thighs bracket his head, close enough for him to reach out and bite at, but he has to focus on keeping his stance sturdy so that you can play properly. Daniel’s glaring viciously at him across the few feet that separates the four of you, and he’s not going to let Mr. Mailman win. 

This time, Jake suspects you’ve used that military muscle of yours, because Danica slips backwards off of Daniel’s dewy shoulders and splashes into the pool. Your hand cups beneath Jake’s chin, tilting his head upwards and leaning it back into your lap.

“Nice one,” He grins upside-down at you, and you bump your fist against his when he offers it. Then you’re craning your neck down, surely uncomfortable as you leave mere inches between your lips and his, and his ears are ringing.

“Back up,” You murmur, disguising it as a congratulatory speech while Daniel helps Danica back onto his shoulders, “Get them to chase us and we’ll use the momentum against them.”

“Darlin’,” Jake proclaims, pride puffing up his chest that your legs are resting against, “You’re my kinda woman. Always looking to win.”

“Just do it, Hangman,” You scoff, but your eye-roll is less than irritated, fond if anything due to your partnership as Jake drops his head to face Daniel and Danica once more.

Jake stands in place where he’d been before, but when Danica engages with you he begins backing up. Slowly, carefully, ensuring that his feet are planted steadily each step so that you’re not tipped over, he makes his way towards the drop off towards the deeper end of the water. Daniel follows, taking the bait, and soon enough his predicament becomes obvious: he’s not as tall as Jake.

He stands somewhere close to six feet, surely, but not past it like Jake does. Your partner’s head is still comfortably above water, smirk in full force as Daniel’s beard becomes waterlogged. 

“That’s not fair!” Danica laughs, petting sympathetically at Daniel’s sopping wet hair, “Poor guy, we’ll get you stilts for the next round.”

Daniel lands a teasing pinch against the curve of her ass and she shrieks. You lunge for her, using her momentary shock to catch her off guard as you send her tumbling backwards into the water behind Daniel. 

You don’t have time to celebrate before Jake is ducking down and slipping himself out from beneath you, his strong arms bracing your fall so that you barely sink a few feet into the water. He crushes you in a celebratory hug, his laughter harmonizing with your own. He turns you both to face Daniel and Danica as they splutter to catch their breath, his cheek pressed flush against your own. 

“Chicken Champions,” He declares, holding you tight to his side at his own height, which means your feet float above his own in the water, “I’d offer to go again, but that’d just be cruel. You ladies wanna chatter in the hot tub while Danny-Boy and I show off on the diving board?”

“I brought a book,” Danica hums, face dripping with water you feel only mildly guilty for submerging her in, “If you wanna read, Y/N, I’ll do it with you.”

“Perfect.” Daniel nods, already cutting through the water on his way to the diving board, “I’ll be careful not to splash you guys.”

“I won’t.” Jake supplies helpfully, his grin turned shit-eating as he eyes you up, “No point in reading one of them smutty porn books if you’re not soaking wet.”

“Splash me and I’ll throw your room key off the side of the boat, Hangman,” You promise, “You’ll be begging strangers to take pity on you in the elevator.”

“Nah, that’s not my style,” Jake’s voice is dripping with intent while Daniel takes position on the diving board, his swim trunks dripping steady trails of water. You don’t know why until he continues, taking his own bait, “I’ll leave that to Daniel.”

You blame Jake’s comment for why Daniel’s dive nearly turns into a belly flop. It’s instantaneous, really, Daniel’s changing of posture as he register’s Jake’s biting words, and you have half a mind to admonish Jake for riling Daniel up during a dive- that could have ended badly. As it stands, Daniel does a sort of cannonball, though not intentionally, and you and Danica cringe in unison when he lands, sending water splashing well over the divider into the hot tub. Your book remains mostly unscathed- only a droplet of water lands on the cover and obscures the male lead’s face, blurring out his beard and making him appear clean-shaven. 

Jake is already scaling the ladder, and when he gets to the top he surveys Daniel emerging from the water.

“Six,” He shrugs, sneering down at Daniel from the highest point on the deck, “‘Could’ve clinched a seven if you hadn’t splashed the ladies, but your form was still shit.”

He doesn’t give Daniel a chance to fire back- or maybe the man is just too smart to take Jake’s bait - before he sets his arms together above his head, and seamlessly, impeccably cuts through the water. For someone so muscular and bulky, his form is graceful- not that you’ll ever tell him that. Water arcs outwards from where he’d landed, one half of the splash practically targeting Daniel where he stands watching.

He swims farther, nearly reaching the other end of the pool before he emerges, shaking water from his hair like a dog as he looks intently at you and Danica in the hot tub for a rating.

“Ten!” Your reading companion shouts, blessedly unaware of the tense atmosphere- or again, too intelligent to fall for Jake’s lowly antics- and you look at the water-stained cover of your novel.

You smear away the water droplet with your dry thumb, and the male main character’s beard returns.

“Four.” You call, voice deadpan as you lock your eyes on your novel, “For playing dirty and sabotaging the other contestants.”

Hangman’s grin is open-mouthed and cemented into place as he stands taller than Daniel in the water, tanned skin standing starkly out from the blue of the chlorinated water, “Dirty’s the best way to play, darlin’.”

Danica shoots you a look from behind the spread of her novel that you’ve sent many-a-girlfriend before. It’s the wide-eyed, restrained smile that screams ‘We’re talking about this later’, and you mirror her expression with your own disdain.

“Leave us alone,” You call, grinning apologetically at Daniel so that he knows he’s only a bystander, “We want to read.”

“Let’s leave the ladies to their smut, Dorian.” Jake calls, louder than he needs to be as he stretches to display his toned abdomen and muscled arms, “We can find our own fun. Wanna see who can swim the fastest? Place your bets, ladies: pilot or mailman?”

“You swam pretty slow when you crash-landed in the Pacific that one time,” You muse, fighting to keep a smirk off of your face, “I remember thinking you would die in the time it took for you to swim back to shore.”

“Wouldn’t’ve gone so slow if I wasn’t hauling my RIO back to shore. He hit his head on the way down,” Jake dips his head towards Danica, happily regaling her with the tale,  and you realize you’ve only fluffed his ego more, “So he was unconscious. Well I couldn’t just leave him there, ‘poor guy was only a trainee. So I took him along. It did slow me down, but,” He heaves a disgusting, gaudy, fake sigh, “It was worth it to send him back home to his mama.”

You taste a hint of blood where you’ve apparently chewed through your lip. You let it go and hope nothing escapes your mouth. It would be a shame to stain the pages of your novel red.

You’re trying very hard not to pay attention to Jake and Danica where he’s engaged her in a staring contest. Well, you suppose it’s not much of a contest that she can win: the point is that you’re losing. Jake’s showing off his impressive build, still running his mouth with every vaguely self-complementary anecdote he can embellish, and Danica is taking the bait, which means that your rampant attempts to cool Jake’s ego have failed. 

You let the warm, borderline-hot water sink into your skin and simmer alongside the building irritation that threatens to blow beneath the surface. You’re tired. This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation for you- or, if not relaxing, a good way to blow off steam. You were supposed to be bent in half up against the shower wall by now, not bending the pages of your book with the strong grip you’ve cemented onto them while you mediate Jake’s ego and the willingness of so many women to accommodate it. 

Part of you wants to let loose and have fun- not with Jake, of course. Never with Jake. But part of you wants to act rationally, forget the constant rivalry between you two and let him shack up with whoever will show him her tits first. But the other part of you, the one that cheers every time he places second in a show of skill, wants to knock him down a peg. It’s why you’re so persistently humbling him- or, trying to, at least. Something about him putting on this cocky persona- erasing all human emotion to make way for pure sleaze puts you on edge, and you pity the fool who believes it.

You can’t tell if Danica’s that fool yet, because she’s turned back to her book with a smile, but to her credit she doesn’t ogle him while he’s swimming. It would be easy to- he’s all tanned muscle and gestures that show off just the right curve or vein. He knows how to preen, but Danica seems to be minding her own business. That makes it easier for you to read your own novel; you don’t feel like you have to keep an eye out for her anymore.

You’re not sure whether it’s a love for the act or a wordless competition to outswim the other that keeps Jake and Daniel occupied with lapping the pool for so long, but as more and more people filter out of their rooms and onto the deck, there’s not much room for recreation anymore.

“Are you done?” You ask Danica, peering over at her after someone unknowingly sends a wave of water straight for you both, narrowly avoiding soaking your novels.

“I think I’m done.” She nods sheepishly, rushing to stand and keep her book dry, “Should we run away before the men notice we’re leaving?”

“Excellent plan,” You laugh, but you can practically feel Jake’s eagle eye upon you as you race for your towel, leaving soaked footprints behind on the wooden deck, “We should go get some pizza. They’re making more now that it’s a little busier out here.”

“You shouldn’t stare like that.” Daniel’s irritatingly smooth voice, pitched up slightly from Jake’s and entirely free of Jake’s rugged charm, makes Jake’s lips yearn to curl into a sneer.

Jake pivots in the cold pool water to face Daniel rather unimpressed, a scoff begging to burst from his lips, “Like what?”

“Like she’s a piece of meat, or something.” Daniel’s arms are crossed, and Jake plants his feet firmly against the concrete floor of the pool.

“Oh, you’re so virtuous,” Jake drawls, his skin burning and not from the rays of sun hitting it directly, “You frenched her in an elevator, Daniel, you’ve got no room to be talking to me about class.”

“She wanted me to kiss her. She kissed me.” Daniel insists, and Jake laughs- actually laughs, a grit of his teeth and a forceful exhalation of air, “That’s different than staring at her ass while she runs away from you like you’d flip her skirt up at a drive-in movie theater.”

“Flipping skirts,” Jake laughs, sadistic grin in full force, “Daniel, I’m not that old fashioned! Please, she’s in a bathing suit that she chose, for a sex cruise that she booked, and you know what? She probably wants you to be staring at her ass in it. And you don’t seem too concerned with the other people on the deck, I’m sure a few of them are looking too. And are you worried I’m looking at Danica’s ass?”

“You’re not looking at Danica’s ass.” Daniel nearly bites his tongue in an effort to keep his voice level, “Because you’re not interested in Danica. You’re interested in Y/N and you can’t have her. She’s not yours.”

“She’s not yours, either.” Jake spits, and there’s a moment of silence where both men’s chests heave with barely-suppressed tension. Jake realizes that he’s admitted to Daniel that he has no real claim over you, but the other man doesn’t fight back against not having one of his own. But you are his, you are Jake’s, in the way you’d fallen asleep in his arms last night, in the look in your eyes when you’d stared into his own earlier, in the stain on his pajama pants.

You’d moaned his name- his name, not Daniel’s.

Someone knocks into Daniel from behind, backing right into him and nudging him slightly off balance.

“Oh!” The woman shrieks, “I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s fine.” He offers her a tight smile, heading for the ladder, “Don’t worry about it.”

Jake hauls himself up out of the pool with nothing but his forearms, using his towel to dry his hair if only to show off the expanse of his chest to any who may be watching. He checks- you’re not.

“So,” Danica leans forwards into your space at the pizza counter, eyes meaningfully wide, “Tell me why he’s acting like this.”

“He always acts like this.” You scoff, and when she levels you with an unimpressed glare, you insist, “No, really! He’s just- everything is a competition to him, everything. I met his mom once, and she told me that he used to have races at the dinner table to see who could finish their food first. He kept making himself sick but as long as he’d beat his brothers he didn’t care. He always has to win, and right now, he’s competing for us.”

“No, he’s competing for you.” Danica corrects you, “Is he winning?”

“Hell no. He’s- he’s not really competing for me, not meaningfully. He just wants to say he ‘got me’, you know? That would be major bragging rights on the tarmac. But that’s exactly why I can’t give in- I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her fellow pilot! Then they wouldn’t see my achievements anymore, just my mistakes.”

“I get that.” She nods, “But how do you know he’s just gonna dump you?”

“I’ve watched him dump the whole of San Diego,” You scoff, “That’s what he does. He doesn’t do love, he’s the kind of guy who’s only ever interested in something quick and dirty.”

“Everyone does love.” Danica frowns, “Some people just start later in life than others. And I think he’s starting now. With you.”

“Love,” You laugh, and sure, it’s dramatic, but if it gets through to her, you don’t care, “A man who loves me would not have tormented me for my entire career.”

She tilts her head thoughtfully, “I think he does. Even if he doesn't act the way you think he should, even if he doesn't act the way you would, I think he does love you. I think he just loves differently. I think he's new to it. What has he done to torment you?”

You huff, grateful for the opportunity to vent, “He constantly tries one-upping me- again, he can’t lose. He just- he pokes and prods and teases me like we’re on the playground or something, and it’s non-stop. It’s not like he’s sweet most of the time and then there’s a few bouts of light teasing, it’s- it’s constant, and I can’t ever let my guard down, or I’ll lose.”

“So you’re fighting to win, too.” Her eyes narrow slightly, “Why?”

“Because. I can't be second-best, and I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her coworker. I’m not doing that.” You repeat.

“Oh," She laughs, "So you're both stubborn. You don't want to lose, either. But second-best is temporary, rankings come and go. And I understand your thing about not wanting to be known for sleeping with him, but even if you did sleep with him, the whole Navy doesn’t have to know.”

“They will, Hangman will brag. He always brags.”

“He won’t- not if he’s in love with you, not if you want him to keep it private.”

“He’s not in love with me-!”

“Four slices of Pepperoni, two cheese?” A large tray is placed between you and Danica at the counter you’re both leaning against, and it snaps the two of you out of your debate.

You turn to see one of the employees looking expectantly at you, and Danica stammers, “Uh, three cheese.”

“Sorry.” He smiles placatingly at her, scooping another slice onto the plate, “Three cheese.”

“Thank you.” You take the pepperoni pizza, leaving Danica to collect the cheese. You feel bad for walking away, even if you know she’s hot on your trail, but you feel frustratingly suffocated, like everyone is urging you to make the biggest mistake of your life and never considering why you simply can’t. She doesn’t know Jake, she hasn’t spent the last decade with him as he’s blown his way through tourist after tourist, bragging all the while. And he doesn’t understand what it would be like- even if he wasn’t looking to win, even if he did just want to try casual sex for fun, you’d never be able to escape that reputation. 

You feel like you’re going crazy, and you plop down between Jake and Daniel where they sit at opposite sides of a table, ready to stuff your face with pizza instead of dealing with any of it.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[kryptonitejelly]

Flyboy!Jake coded.

i love love love flyboy asks (but i admit i don’t get to them all…. that’s in me) entirely flyboy!jake coded.

also look at those arms 😵‍💫 i can’t even with him in this photo. that casual lean, hand behind his head. his legs..

reading this in the flyboy!era, but post part 6.

-

“Geez Jake, manspread more why don’t you,” Emma says as she walks back to the area where your group, a small sub-group of the Seresin brood, has positioned themselves. She punctuates her barb at her brother by raising a foot to kick his shin lightly.

“Ouch,” he says in response without even a slight change in expression or movement.

“Uncle Jake, your legs,” the little voice that trails behind Emma protests, as Kyle follows after his mother, picking his way past the obstacle that is Jake’s unmoving legs to scramble his aay onto the sofa, arms and legs first, rolling his body up to wedge himself in between his Uncle Jake and father.

“You did just fine buddy,” Jake teases in response, winking down at his nephew as Liam, Emma’s husband and Kyle’s father ruffles his son’s hair.

“You could have moved your legs,” you muse, voice tinged with amusement as you take a step forward, having been trailing behind Kyle.

“I could have,” is what Jake responds, moving his hand from behind his head so that he is reaching out to you. You slip your hand into his, letting him tug you down gently into his lap. Once you’ve perched down onto his lip, and thigh, your legs knocking against his other knee, Jake lets his arm slip around your waist while raising the glass he is holding in his other hand to let you take a sip out of the straw of your drink he had been holding for you. “But then I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

“Have you become my own personal armchair,” you joke, “complete with a cupholder?”

“I’ll have you only sit on me for the rest of your life if I could,” Jake’s response is cheesy, sappy and with a tinge of innuendo and it makes the group around you, save for the children, groan in a mixture of disgust and horror.

“You’re the worst,” is what Emma helpfully supplies for the group as she balls up a paper napkin to toss it at her brother’s head.

“Your worst,” is what Jake says as he ignores Emma and tilts his head up towards you asking for a kiss, which you oblige. It promptly earns him another round of groans.

[spasmsofthought]

the risk (is drowning) [jake seresin x f!reader]

This little 1k piece is 100% inspired by the song Risk by Gracie Abrams. What a masterpiece this song is.

Also a special dedication to all my anxious wallflower girlies (especially those in their mid-to-late twenties). You are seen and loved. You will be wanted. xoxo

Warnings: Some indirect allusions to anxiety/social anxiety.

Please like, comment, reblog. Let me know what you think! xo

on A03 here

+++

"It feels like the universe is pranking me."

The bar is loud and bright and crowded, even in the shadows of the back corner where you and your roommate Alexis are sitting on stools. A remixed pop song is playing from the speakers in the room - it sounds like something you heard in CVS three days ago while picking up your prescription strength Benadryl. Damn hives. You knew better than to let Jessica be the one to choose the takeaway order for lunch. She never remembered anybody's food allergies.

"I wonder," You continue speaking as you swirl the straw in your club soda, "if I'm on some alien reality version of punk'd. I feel like there's a camera trying to catch me over my shoulder. I keep waiting to hear a laugh track in the background."

Alexis just sighs from across you. Then she gives you the look that she's been giving you all evening - full of love but also half-reproach and half-amusement.

"I think you might've coordinated my outfit for nothing," You look down at the number you're wearing. It's something that's much different than you're usual look - not as casual and more flashy. It screams look at me with several exclamation points. You don't remember the last time you wore something to make someone else notice you - not intentionally. You don't really know for sure if it's helping you feel more confident or more like a poser.

"I wore mascara for no reason." You slump against the wall at your back. "He hasn't shown up. I don't even think he's going to be here tonight."

There's a minute of semi-silence where you take in the ambiance of the place. You notice that the music over the speakers has changed genres to a popular country song that has some people by the pool table swaying or singing along at the counter with beer bottles in their hands pretending that they're microphones.

"Speak of the devil," Alexis smirks at you and then points her chin towards the direction of the front door. She's not wrong.

There he is in all of his golden glory. Jake Seresin. Lieutenant, Naval aviator, Top Gun graduate.

He's never actually introduced himself to you; you've never met him. It's not that hard to get a beat on who he is though - he's all anyone ever talks about in this place. You notice you're staring and swivel your attention back to Alexis.

The amount of times you've daydreamed about his eyes or, God, his hands feels almost wrong due to the fact that you've never even spoken a word to the man.

He really is just your type: a blue-eyed all-American boy with a killer smile and all the confidence in the world. You can practically feel the rush of heat to your face and you bring your soda to your lips for a quick swallow.

It had been really challenging at first, pushing yourself out of your comfort zone and intentionally choosing to spend time with crowds of people, even if it's really only Alexis you ever talk to. It's taken months to feel much more comfortable even hanging in the back corner of a bar like this.

Jake had been a regular before this became your weekend hangout spot with Alexis and ever since the first day you saw him you'd known that he wasn't the type of person to escape anybody's notice. Whether it's his natural charisma or a learned charm, you looked at him once and haven't stopped looking.

Your life has always felt more monotone - shades of black and white with spots of blue or green or yellow or pink here and there. Even from far away, you can tell that Jake Seresin's life is in full, vibrant technicolor. You keep wondering what that must be like.

"If there's any time to shoot your shot it'd be now, before the groupies surround him." Alexis advises you.

He's just making his way to the bar counter after calling out greetings or doing that weird bro handshake guys do with each other when they're acquaintances but don't know each other that well.

You don't know why you came tonight, why you confessed this to her in the first place. You don't know why your mind has been stuck on a Jake Seresin loop. Why this has been the one thing it hasn't let go of.

You're almost ready to bolt out of there, indecision weighing heavy on your shoulders. The indecision isn't even the worst part because you're friends with indecision. It's been there for you all your life.

It's the fact that you want to go up there and introduce yourself to him that's actually terrifying. You can't remember the last time you wanted something like this. Have you?

"If you don't get up and go over there yourself, I will make you."

Your mom used to tell you that the only way you started learning how to swim as a young girl was when she tossed you into the deep end of the pool with a swimming instructor and you had to learn first-hand, in the moment, how to paddle in water to keep from drowning.

"But he's so hot," You whisper, leaning across the table as your hands start to shake, "I'm no supermodel on a runway. I've never even had a boyfriend."

"How have I never known that you're in your late twenties and never had a boyfriend?" Alexis gapes, one of her hands coming to cover your shaking ones.

"Never even been on a real date, actually." You grimace and lean away, pulling your hands out from under hers.

"I'm not going to force you," Alexis softens, "If you're really not ready, we can go and come back some other time."

You take a deep breath in, then a slow breath out. "What if he shoots me down?" What if I drown in rejection?

"Remember what you said when we took that philosophy course on morality in grad school and we were arguing about what it means for a person to have 'character'?" You frown at Alexis' words. Grad school, where you met her and became life-long friends, feels like a lifetime ago. "You said, 'It's your motivations and actions that make you who you are.' If you go over there and he's the one that rejects you, that is communicating something to you about who he is. His rejection is not about you."

You take a second breath and shrug, "That makes sense, I guess."

"There's a reason I'm your best friend y'know." Alexis flips her hair over her shoulder.

"I'm worth this," You nod your head adamantly, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. But your eyes don't meet nothing. It's only a quick glance, but there's a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. Something that tells you that you won't be making a complete fool of yourself.

"Damn right you are," Alexis says.

You slowly stand up from your seat against the wall, shaking your hands out. You're going to let what you want override your indecision and anxiety, even if it's just for sixty seconds.

"Okay, okay, okay," You whisper to yourself. Taking a step and then turning back towards Alexis.

"You've got this," She reassures you. "Go, be brave."

Your turn around and walk forward, Jake Seresin in your sights. Maybe you in his, based on the second glance your garner. You turn your head one last time to give Alexis and anxious, unsure smile and then you walk the rest of the way to the bar counter by yourself. You don't look back.

[cherryobx]

Hi! Congrats on the celebration!!!!!

Turn the radio up! - give me a song you love, and a character and I’ll write a blurb or a full-sized fic based on that With Jake Seresin and Black and White by Niall Horan, please? Thank you so much!

a/n: thank you so much nonnie! i absolutely love this song!

pairing: Jake Seresin x reader

summary: Jake is unable to keep his tears at bay when you sees you walk down the aisle

warnings: mentions of reader wearing a dress, jake is an emotional mess

Jake always knew he was going to cry at his wedding. It wasn't even a question. It was a fact.

But he never expected to start crying just at the sight of you. Maybe during the vows, yes, but not before that.

The second he saw you walking down the aisle in your absolutely stunning dress his eyes welled up. You looked as beautiful as the day he met you. You were glowing with happiness. The tears to hit him like a freight train. He wasn't expecting it.

Without saying a word Bradley handed him a handkerchief.

Jake swore he was ascending to heaven at that exact moment. He thought he was going to die because the last couple of years were replaying in his mind, his life literally flashing in front of his eyes. All the big and little moments. When you first met, first date, your first kiss, when you moved in together. All of it.

He knew he was going to marry you the moment he met you because there was no one out there who could measure up to you. You were it for him.

He's completely wrecked by the time you reach him, tears streaming down his face.

"Hi, baby." You smile at him and place your hand on his cheek, wiping away a tear with your thumb.

"Hi."

He struggles to get through the vows, making you also tear up.

You're so in love it seems unreal. You had the kind of relationship people dreamed of. You loved each other conditionally. You were made for each other and he can't help but worship the ground you walk on.

You promise to love each other until death pries you from each others hands.

He can't wait to spend the rest of his life with you.