#jake seresin x female reader

[sugarcoated-lame]

Sometimes A Bride | Jake Seresin x Reader

18+ only, minors DNI

Jake Seresin x female Bradshaw!reader

part two of Always A Bridesmaid

Synopsis: You’re having some pre-wedding jitters and there’s only one person you know can help calm you down.

or

You and Jake sneak off for a quickie before the two of you say ‘I do.’

WC: 11.5k (another long one oops)

warnings: a smidgen of angst?, anxiety, mentions of alcohol, smut, fingering, unprotected piv, slight overstimulation, i think jake calling reader a good girl deserves a warning, unspecified age gap (reader is in around mid-late 20s, jake is in early-mid 30s), once again jake being too damn charming for his own good, tonssss of disgustingly sweet tooth-rotting fluff, really sweet fluffy moments with big bro bradley, natasha being the best sister-in-law and maid of honor, jake still being an absolute menace, i'm literally the worst at coming up with titles for my fics, moodboard is not any indication of reader’s appearance

a/n: The very long-awaited (I’m sorry 🤍) sequel to Always a Bridesmaid. Thank you so much to everyone who’s stuck around and shown the first part so much love and support, and waited so patiently for this story! I love y’all 

beautiful dividers by @saradika-graphics 🤍

〰・♡・〰 reblogs, comments, and feedback are greatly appreciated! 〰・♡・〰

You love weddings. 

It's a fact you try to remind yourself of as you take a deep breath, taking in your reflection in the vast vanity mirror.

Hair styled to pristine perfection, professionally done makeup better than anything you’d ever be capable of doing yourself, in a gorgeous white dress that fits just right and makes you feel more beautiful than ever.  

You love weddings. You love the fancy clothes, all the chatter and the sweet scent of champagne flowing through the air at the reception, the contagious laughter and dancing.

But, most of all, you love getting to watch two people profess their love for each other and promise themselves to one another for the rest of their lives through beaming smiles and tears of joy. 

It’s been a little over three years since Bradley and Natasha said ‘I do’, and after meeting the love of your life at your big brother’s wedding, how could you not love them? 

Three years since that fateful night that you met Jake and both of your lives were changed forever, and the two of you have been pretty much inseparable ever since. Well, nearly ever since.

Initially, both you and Jake were scared by just how much you liked one another. 

After spending the night together at your brother’s wedding — and the morning after — you had feared that it was just that rose-colored haze of love in the air that comes along with weddings, and you wondered if that magical pixie dust was going to wear off eventually — and take your feelings with it. 

But it never did. 

Even at the beginning, back when Jake had tried to push down his feelings for you and said he couldn’t offer much more than no strings attached fun, ‘because I’m going to be away on deployments and dangerous missions all the time, and because you’re Bradshaw’s little sister.’ 

Because he ‘didn’t have time for anything serious’ – but really, because he was afraid of just how strongly he felt for you – even then, you were so drawn to him and Jake couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed spending time with you.

How he thought about you and that amazing night you’d spent together nearly every second of every day. 

From the moment he’d wake up in his boring, lonely apartment, to the hours spent in briefings or flying dangerous maneuvers in his F18, to the moment he’d go to sleep alone every night in his bed that all of a sudden seemed too big. 

And, what scared Jake the most was that it wasn’t just the sex – though, that was definitely a great part of it – that he yearned for. It was just you. 

You, with your bright eyes and your radiant smile, your melodic laugh and effervescent personality. You had quickly wormed your way into his heart and lit him up from the inside out. 

He no longer found himself wanting the mundane and meaningless hook-ups or one night stands that places like the Hard Deck had to offer, which had become routine for him since his time as a young pilot at Top Gun. 

You brought Jake’s world from dull grayscale to vibrant technicolor and he found that he just always wanted you around. 

He’d never felt that way about anyone before, and it terrified him.

You’d never wanted anyone so bad, and you were fearful that it wasn’t going to last. 

But, try as you might, the two of you just couldn’t seem to stay away from each other for long. 

Once Jake got his head out of his ass and he took you out on a few proper dates – which, naturally, ended in you fucking each other’s brains out a few more times – you both agreed to try to take things slow, because your feelings for each other were real and neither one of you wanted to mess things up. 

However, you quickly learned that there was no such thing as slow when it comes to you and Jake. Before you knew it, things between the two of you had become pretty serious, and you realized – much to your brother Bradley’s dismay, that the two of you share a very real connection. 

Through all of the ups and downs — triumphs and hardships, happy times and tears, the silly fights and even sillier make-ups that these past three years have brought the two of you. 

From going mad missing each other when Jake is away on deployments, up until his recent request for a more permanent position at Top Gun so he can be closer to home – closer to you –  you and Jake have stuck together through it all like super glue.

Three years of unconditional love and support, of growing and becoming better together, loving and living life with your best friend.

You’ve never been quite sure if you believe in the concept of soulmates, but if they do exist, you’re positive that Jake is yours.

And, you love weddings… so why are you currently freaking the fuck out, today of all days? Oh, right… because it’s your wedding day. 

You’re pretty sure that your vision is beginning to blur, your body growing a little dizzy as you watch the constant stream of people flitting all around you through the glass of the large vanity mirror.

Your bridesmaids chatter excitedly as they too work to finish getting ready, sipping from mimosas as they make their way into their dresses while Natasha – the best sister-in-law and best maid of honor you could ever ask for – helps to keep everyone focused and on schedule. 

She paces the room with her phone in hand, probably texting Bradley to make sure things are running smoothly in the groomsmens’ suite as well. 

There are at least three people at any given moment hovering around you like bees, fussing over your hair, doing last minute touch-ups on your makeup, and making sure there’s not a wrinkle in sight on the beautiful wedding gown of your dreams that you’re oh-so nervous for Jake to finally see. 

Not nervous because you’re worried he won’t like it – he’s told you plenty of times that he’d be more than happy to marry you if you were wearing a trash bag – but because this is your big day, the beginning of the rest of your lives together and you just want it to be perfect. 

After all the months of painstaking planning – from centerpieces to seating charts, the choosing the color of the napkins to the dinner menu and countless trials of cake flavors. From finding the perfect venue, to the best floral arrangements, and of course the dream wedding dress. 

After being so hyper-focused on this day for months, now that that day is actually here, you just need everything to be perfect.

Not even the two and a half mimosa’s you’ve had this morning have been enough to quell the stress currently coursing through your veins, and the buzz of the busy bridal suite is beginning to make your head spin. 

Between all of the running around you’ve done since waking up — way too early — this morning, the little bit of alcohol and all the commotion going on around you now, your face feels too hot, a tiny sheen of sweat beginning to shine through your makeup.

You can’t help but wonder if Jake is feeling this flustered right now too. Probably not, the man is cool and calm about just about everything; it’s one of the things you love about him.

As the makeup artist powders your nose for the fifth time in ten minutes in an attempt to tamper down the shine, you feel your resolve beginning to crack. You try to take in a deep breath to shake the nerves, but feel as though there’s not enough air in the room to fill your lungs and you find yourself feeling like you need to escape. 

As if she can sense your distress from all the way across the room, Natasha — ever the dutiful maid of honor — materializes behind you with a comforting hand on your shoulder, politely excusing the makeup artist and everyone else that’s currently milling around you, before meeting your gaze through the mirror with a gentle smile. 

Though, you know your sister-in-law too well and you can see the concern in her brown eyes.

“You okay?” When Natasha gives your shoulder a comforting squeeze, you close your eyes and heave out a deep sigh, grateful for a moment of calm. 

It’s in the same moment that you open your eyes and give her a nod and an unconvincing smile that there’s a knock on the bridal suite door just behind you, and you turn your head to find Bradley opening it a crack and peeking his head in. 

“Everyone decent?” Your older brother asks, meeting your eyes with a soft look and you swear you could cry.

Through all her running around to help make sure that your day is perfect, you’d seen Natasha on her phone and you figure that, always knowing just what you need, she must have texted Bradley – and that’s exactly what she did. 

Natasha had let her husband know that his sister was feeling some pre-wedding jitters and could use some reassurance that she knew you could only get from your big brother, and he immediately made his way from the groomsmens’ suite to come to your aid.

“Yeah, come on in!” Natasha calls out with one last squeeze to your shoulder before meeting Bradley at the door and greeting him with a quick kiss on his cheek.

She gently pushes him towards where you stand in front of the large mirror smoothing your hands over an invisible wrinkle on the flowy white skirt of your dress, before ushering the rest of your bridesmaids and everyone else to the other side of the large suite to put their finishing touches on their looks and give the two of you some privacy. 

You turn around to face Bradley, standing there in a classic black suit with a bow tie, and you could swear your brother gets a little misty-eyed as he takes in the sight of you in your lavish white dress, a soft smile pulling at the corner of his mustached lips when he asks, “You okay, sis?”

You think about lying for a second and telling him that you’re just fine, but this is Bradley -– your big brother and self-appointed protector for all your life, even when you don’t always want or need him to be, and you know that he’d be able to see right through you.

Blowing out a small sigh, you carefully take a seat on the plush couch that sits in the nearest corner, making sure to arrange all the layers of fabric that surround your lower half in a way that they won’t become too wrinkled.

“Honestly… I’m kind of freaking out.” You tell your brother as he joins you on the sofa. Your voice is barely above a whisper, just loud enough that he’s able to hear due to his close proximity.

You’re looking down at where you nervously wring your hands in your lap when Bradley speaks. 

“Why? You’ve got nothing to worry about.” His words are matter-of-fact, but his voice is soft in that comforting, brotherly tone that’s only reserved for you.

“I- I don’t know.” You tell him with a light shake of your head. “I guess I’m just nervous?” 

The words come out as a question and your gaze lifts to meet Bradley’s before you continue on.

“You know, it’s such a big, important day that I’ve spent so long dreaming of and planning for and– that I’m going to remember for the rest of my life and I just…” your voice trails off as you realize you’re rambling, stopping to take a breath before you continue. 

 “I just love Jake so much and I… I just want everything to be perfect.”

Bradley takes in your frazzled expression, nodding in understanding. “You’re right, it is a big deal, and it’s totally normal to have some nerves.” 

The pensive look on his face shifts to one of what looks like amusement as he glances across the room to where his wife is chatting away with the rest of your bridesmaids, before leaning closer to whisper conspiratorially. 

“I was scared shitless when I married Nat.” 

Your eyes widen at Bradley’s confession, a small puff of laughter escaping your lips as you question him, “What? Really?”

“Yeah,” Your brother’s smile grows at the sight of your own, a quiet chuckle leaving him. “But, then I remembered that I was marrying my best friend and all of those nerves just sort of melted away.”

“Which is why you should believe me when I tell you–” Bradley reaches over to take your hands in his, his brown gaze warm as he speaks earnestly.

“It’s going to be perfect no matter what happens, because you and Jake will be together.”

Your lips can’t help but quirk up a bit at your older brother’s reassurance. “You really think so?”

“Yeah,” Bradley gives your hands a gentle squeeze. “In fact, I know so.”

“Because, I have never seen you happier than you have been these past few years since you’ve been with Jake.” That small smile never leaves his lips as he continues talking and your heart nearly melts in your chest at the sincerity of your big brother’s words. 

“It’s clear that the two of you love each other very much.”

You have to admit it’s a bit of a shock to hear those words from Bradley of all people – sure, things have gotten a lot better between your brother and your fiance over the years, but you’d still consider them frenemies at the best of times. 

You realize that you haven’t said anything in response, being too stunned to speak, when Bradley continues on with a knowing smirk on his face as he takes in your dumbfounded expression.

“Trust me, I wasn’t the biggest fan of the idea of you dating Jake in the beginning, but I see how much he cares about you. Above anything else.” 

You nod your head in agreement, but not without a laugh and a playful roll of your eyes. With your brother’s reassurance that everything would be okay so long as you and Jake are together, and the reminder of just how much your husband-to-be loves you, now you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face if you tried. “Yeah, he does.” 

Bradley takes in the lovesick smile on your face and tilts his head, raising a brow in question. “We feeling better now?”

“Yeah,” Feeling much more calm now, it’s your turn to squeeze Bradley’s hands, nodding happily at him before releasing them. “A lot better. Thank you.”

“Good.” Bradley stands, offering his hands to pull you up off the sofa as well, before pulling you into a hug. 

With a quiet instruction to ‘call me if you need me’, your brother releases you from his arms, venturing over to Natasha to place a small peck to his wife’s lips before making his way out the door and back to the groomsmens’ suite.

You really do feel a whole lot better, but all this talk about your fiancé and his love for you, and how truly, utterly happy he makes you, has you missing him. Yearning to be with him in this very moment, and you realize that the only thing that would really put your mind at ease is right now Jake himself. 

Jake’s head perks up as the door to the groomsmen’s suite opens for the second time in about fifteen minutes to reveal Bradley, adorning a tux matching that of all the other groomsmen. 

It’s still crazy for him to think about the fact that your brother, who was so adamant about you not seeing Jake all those years ago, would be one of the groomsmen at his and your wedding. 

“Where’d you disappear to, Rooster?” A relaxed smirk lifts up the corner of Jake’s lips as he fixes his tie in the mirror.  

“Just went to check on the bride-to-be.” Jake’s smile softens just a bit at the mention of you.

“You know, I never thought the two of you would last this long, so I had to check and see if my sister was ready to back out yet.” 

Bradley drops down onto the sofa next to Bob and Coyote, who are quietly snickering at his teasing of the groom. 

“Oh, ha-ha.” Jake’s smirk grows devilish at the joke, turning his sights on the mustached man ready to tease him right back. “Face it, Bradshaw. We’re gonna be brothers real soon.” 

Bradley only rolls his eyes goodnaturedly at his soon to be brother-in-law, a fact that Jake has made a point to remind him of, all the time, since the two of you got engaged a little over a year ago. 

“How is she, though?” Jake asks, and Bradley can hear the sincerity creeping into the blonde’s tone. 

“She’s good. Was just dealing with the usual pre-wedding nerves, but it’s all good now.” Bradley tells him honestly. 

Jake only nods in response, already retreating into his head, into his worry for you, causing your brother to speak up again.

“Jake, I promise, everything’s good.” Bradley reassures him with a small smile.

“Yeah… good.” Jake nods once more, making an attempt to paint the best smile he possibly can on his lips.

He’s not worried because he thinks that you might not want this, or him – he knows without a shadow of doubt just how vast your love for him is – but, because he knows how you get when you put your heart into something and that you’ll drive yourself crazy trying to get everything perfect.

Jake’s seen firsthand just how painstakingly you’ve worked to plan this wedding, all the months spent making sure that every little detail is just right. 

He knows that all of that time and stress, culminating to this one day, is likely weighing on your mind now that the day has finally come. 

And in this moment, Jake wants nothing more than to just be able to see you – to hold you and comfort you and let you know that everything is going to be just fine.

He knows the old superstition that the groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before the ceremony, but…

“Fuck it.”

The two words escape under Jake’s breath just before he’s shrugging on the jacket to his tux and quickly making his way to the door. 

“Where are you going, man?” Javy questions his best friend, drawing the attention of the rest of the Daggers — sans Phoenix who’s with you getting ready in the bridal suite — toward where Jake stands in the now open doorway, one hand on the knob and one foot already out in the hall. 

“Just gotta check something with the wedding planner. Be right back.” 

It’s not a total lie. Sure, you had forgone hiring a wedding planner and chose to do everything yourself — with the help of Natasha and Penny of course -— but that technically made you the wedding planner. The guys don’t have to know that.

Jake traverses the winding halls of the venue, the anticipation of seeing you building up as he walks briskly in his dress shoes until he finds a door with a paper sign that reads, ‘Bridal Suite’ in loopy, cursive lettering.

Taking a breath, he knocks on the door, and he’s lucky to find that a moment later, it’s you who answers.

“What-” Your eyes widen in surprise and you’re hardly able to get a word out as one of Jake’s hands grasps yours, swiftly pulling you out of the door and into the hallway with him. 

You don’t get a chance to finish your question, because within seconds your fiancé is practically sprinting down the long hallway, pulling you along with him with his large hand wrapped around your smaller one. 

You can't help but giggle at Jake’s antics as the two of you run through the halls, watching his free hand reach for a few knobs along the way only to find them locked, finally stopping when he finds a door that seems to be open. 

He quickly peers into the room just to make sure that it’s empty before gently pulling you into the dark space, lit only by the natural light that shines in through the windows, and closing the door. 

You're still laughing breathlessly when you find your words again, Jake’s own breathy chuckle mixing with yours in the quiet of the room.

“Wha— Jake? What are you doing, you’re not supposed to see me in my dress before the ceremony!”

“Screw that, my girl needed me.” His warm hand is still in yours, his free hand moving to clasp your other one. That emerald gaze that you’ve come to know so well bores into you as he smiles down at you lovingly.

Your eyes lift to meet Jake’s and it’s like any and all nerves just melt away.

You always feel safe when Jake is near and just the sight of him now, being in his presence, has a toothy grin making its way onto your face.

Another giggle escapes you, trailing off into a content sigh as you look up at the gorgeous man in front of you.

The two of you just gaze into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and with a light shake of your head, your grin becomes coy. 

“Hi.” You find yourself whispering into the quiet of the room.

Jake lets out a chuckle, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling up in the way that you love when smiles at you. “Hi.”

Without letting go of your hands, Jake takes a step back to really take you in for the first time since breaking you out of the bridal suite just a few minutes ago. 

Finally getting a good look at you in your wedding dress that beautifully accentuates the shape of your body, your makeup done to perfection — though Jake doesn’t think you ever need it — and hair styled prettily but still flowing and free just the way he likes, renders your soon-to-be husband practically speechless. 

All he can say is, “Wow…”

You can hear the pure awe in that one word and can’t help but smile bashfully, heat rising in your cheeks. Jake’s compliments still manage to make you flustered, even after all this time. 

“Wow, yourself.” Your gaze sweeps up and down the length of his body, taking in the crisp black tuxedo and matching bow tie, and the white dress shirt underneath. Appreciating the way it fits him just right, how you’re still able to tell just how toned his body is even under the layers of clothing.

Jake’s hands tenderly squeeze your own, pulling you a little bit closer once again as his eyes search out your own. “You doing okay, honey?”

And though you were definitely feeling anxious before, you couldn’t be more content than you are now when it’s just the two of you, standing here holding hands with the love of your life.

“Yes,” You nod gently. “I’m just a little nervous.”

You look down at your joined hands before quietly continuing. “I just want this day to be perfect.”

“Hey,” Jake lightly swings your joined hands to get you to look up at him again, and when you do, you see that he’s still wearing that confident smile. “It’s going to be perfect because it’s all coming from you. And everything you do is perfect in my eyes.”

You have to bite back your giggle at his sentiment, in disbelief that this sweet man is soon going to be your husband.

“It’s going to be perfect because it’s us. Together.” You correct him with a playful grin. 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jake’s hands leave yours, wrapping warmly around your shoulders to pull you in for a hug. Nestled in his embrace, your own arms wrap around his middle, your head moving to lean on his chest, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne as he leans his head on top of yours. “Together.”

The two of you stand like that for a few moments, wrapped snugly in each other’s warmth, Jake beginning to sway you just lightly as you breathe each other in.

It’s with your cheek pressed against his pec that you finally take a look around the room the two of you are standing in, realizing that it’s another suite similar to the one you had been getting ready in earlier.

“You know,” You lift your head from Jake’s chest to look up at him as you speak, a playful tone filling your words. “This feels oddly familiar to the night we met.”

“Sneaking off to a dark, empty room,” You continue with a growing smirk, arms unlatching from around Jake’s waist and pulling back just a touch, his own arms falling from around your shoulders. “Just the two of us.”

Your hands slide gently up Jake’s torso over the fabric of his suit jacket, up past his broad shoulders to rest at the back of his neck. 

Jake’s gaze leaves you for just a moment to glance at the space around you. An airy laugh leaving his lips as his hands reach for your hips over the soft fabric of your dress to pull you a little bit closer, his green eyes falling back onto you. 

Faces just inches away from one another, the two of you share matching silly grins as you think back to the night of your brother’s wedding. A look of pure love and adoration passing between your eyes and his as you both absorb the fact that you’re here, three years later, at your own wedding. 

“Yeah, we’re just missing the champagne.” 

Jake softly brushes his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering shut as he leans in to connect his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. 

Tasting the remnants of the sweet mimosa on your lips, he hums against them before pulling back just slightly. “But it seems like you’ve already got that covered, Sweets.” 

The familiar nickname paints his favorite smile on your lips that has Jake diving back in for another kiss, this one deeper as his tongue dips into your mouth to taste the lingering sweetness of champagne and orange juice on your tongue.

His large hands pull you in closer by the waist as your fingers find the short blonde hairs at the nape of his neck, a groan falling from Jake’s mouth and into yours as your fingernails gently scrape along his scalp.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly your body still responds to his touch after all this time; your knees going weak, and you’re practically melting into him as you feel wetness begin to pool in the skimpy, lacy white panties of your bridal lingerie that you’ve been dying to show Jake since you picked it all out a few months earlier.

The kiss quickly becomes more heated, lips slotting feverishly together as though one can only find much-needed oxygen within the other’s mouth, tongues swirling in a well-known dance and relishing in the familiar taste of one another. 

Jake’s hands are all over you, pulling your body flush against his as he sucks your bottom lip between the both of his. Your skin feels hot from his touch even through the fabric of your dress, and the realization of his quickly hardening length pressing against your hip has you mewling against him.

Jake pulls back from the kiss, his gaze still hungry, but you also catch the mirth in his eyes as he chuckles at his bride-to-be.

“Always so needy for me.” He slowly shakes his head with that classic, cocky Jake Seresin smirk that still makes you weak in the knees. 

“Me?!” You scoff, eyes wide as you look up at him incredulously, though you’re fighting back a smile because you know he’s right. 

“Well, I’d say someone is also pretty needy.” 

Your hand leaves the back of his neck to travel between your bodies to prove your point, reaching down to palm at his hard length through the fabric of his dress pants. Your brows raise in a playfully vindicated look that screams ‘I told you so’, as Jake lets out a groan at your touch. 

“Yeah, o-okay.” Jake’s chuckle is breathless this time as you cup your hand around him a little more firmly, grinning up at him and batting your lashes. “Always needy for you too, Sweets.” 

His hand wraps around your own to remove it from his bulge, already missing the friction as he brings your knuckles up to his lips in a sweet kiss before letting it go.

Before you even know what’s happening, both of Jake’s hands are reaching down to grip your thighs through all the layers of lace and tulle, a squeak emitting from your throat as he sweeps you off your feet and carries you over the nearest wall. 

“Jake! What are you-” Your arms circle around his shoulders, legs parting of their own volition to make room for him between them. Bracketing his hips as your back lightly hits the wall, the fabric of your dress all bunched between the two of you exposing your calves as he holds you in his strong grasp.

Large palms wrapped around the underside of your thighs, his weight pressed against your front and the wall at your back keep you upright as you giggle in your soon-to-be husband’s arms. 

Jake is beaming back at you, the adoration in his green eyes clear as they crinkle up due to his grin. 

“I love you, so much.” He lifts a hand up to your face, the backs of his fingers caressing along the soft skin of your cheek and Jake shakes his head as if he can’t believe that this is real, that you’re real. 

He leans in to press a soft, but dizzying kiss to your lips before murmuring against them, “I wanna show you how much.”

A part of you feels like you could cry at the sincerity in his voice, at just how well Jake loves you and how he’s never shy to make it known. 

But mostly, you just feel the white-hot pooling of arousal growing in your belly, your eyes glazing over with a look of both love and lust as you gaze back at him.

“Yeah?” You nod up at him in a daze, biting back a grin as you take in the hunger in those pretty green eyes. 

“Yeah.” He places a feather-light kiss to the corner of your mouth that makes you whimper and you can feel his smile against your skin. “Let me show you.” 

You nod your head again, mind in a haze of want at the feel of his warm breath on your skin, your hands squeezing at Jake’s broad shoulders. 

Feeling the velvety-soft fabric of his black suit jacket beneath your fingers, it’s only then that you’re shaken out of your stupor and you remember where you are – what today is.  

“Wait-wait, Jake, we can’t!” Your fingers continue to absentmindedly play with the fabric covering his shoulder. We’re supposed to be getting married like… now.” 

You can’t help but giggle at the predicament you’ve found yourselves in, though it’s very unsurprising for you and Jake. 

Jake’s laugh mingles with your own as you begin to lightly shake your head, and you feel his strong shoulders shrug beneath your grasp as you watch his lips quirk up into a mischievous grin. 

“All our guests–” Jake interrupts your words with another quick peck on your lips, laughing at your stunned expression. 

“The guests…can wait.” He states matter-of-factly. “Can’t exactly have a wedding without the bride and groom, now can they, Sweets?” 

Jake’s smile is smug and you can’t fight the one materializing on your own lips as you continue to shake your head. 

“Besides, would we really be us if we didn’t sneak off to have sex at a wedding?” He finishes off the question with a kiss to your jaw before trailing his lips down the column of your throat, lightly nipping at the skin of your neck – careful not to leave a mark – before soothing it with his tongue.

Jake was right. It had happened the night you first met at Bradley and Natasha’s wedding, and had become a tradition of sorts for the two of you at every wedding you’d been to in the three years since – and there have been quite a few.

You can feel your resolve quickly beginning to crumble as Jake presses his hips more firmly against yours, his hard length pressing up against where you need him most, the friction not nearly enough through all the layers of fancy clothing. You’re already soaking through your panties for him and you know you’re a goner.

You drop your head onto Jake’s shoulder with a sigh, before looking back up at him through your lashes. 

“Fine, but we have to be quick.” Narrowing your eyes at him, you give in, but with the most stern tone you can muster and it only makes Jake laugh. 

“Ain’t nothing slow about me, sweetheart.” You can’t stop the snort that escapes you, or the playful roll of your eyes at his words, leaning up to kiss that stupid grin off of Jake’s face. 

“Please, just– just shut up and fuck me already, Seresin.” you manage to get out through your giggles.

“With pleasure.” Jake’s lips claim yours in a hungry kiss and you feel one of his big hands venture underneath the skirt of your dress, traveling up your thigh and past the frilly fabric of your white garter in search of your core.

When his fingers brush against the damp lace of your panties, you choke out a gasp against his lips and Jake pulls back to take in your expression — your brows furrowed in pleasure and eyes heavily hooded with need. His kiss-swollen lips lift up into a smug smirk as he feels how wet you are for him. 

Jake’s deft fingers press more firmly against that wet spot, rubbing along your seam through the damp fabric. You can’t hold back your whine, already writhing against him as his thumb finds your clit, expertly circling it through the lace. 

“So wet and I’ve barely even touched you.” He breathes out a laugh and there’s a hint of smugness to his words — because of course there, it’s Jake — but you can also hear the awe present in his voice, see it in his emerald gaze that burns into you lovingly and it makes heat creep up your cheeks.

His hand dips beneath the waistband of your panties and you and Jake groan in unison as his fingers make a few quick circles around your wet, swollen clit. 

Your head falls back against the wall behind you and Jake takes the opportunity to kiss at your neck again as his hand dips down further to collect more of your wetness. 

“Already all ready for me, Sweets?” Jake’s words are whispered next to your ear as his fingers graze your entrance, your hips bucking toward them of their own volition.

“For you, ahh–” Your words are cut off by a shaky moan as Jake slides two long fingers inside of you, up to the knuckle in one swift motion. Your breath hitches and you’re practically melting against him, your voice already sounding wrecked as you whimper for him, “Always.”

Jake groans at how easily your slick walls envelop his fingers, gushing with new arousal as he fucks them in and out of your tight hole to get you ready for his cock -– not that you really need much prep with the way you’re already soaking his hand.  

“Such a good girl for me.”

Your walls clench tight around his digits, from both the praise and the way he curls them inside of you, that coil in your belly quickly winding up. 

“Fuck- Jake!” He can hear the desperation in your plea of his name, can feel it in the way your hips chase his fingers each time he pulls them almost all the way out. You’re already feeling so close, but you’re needy for more. Need to be full of him. 

Your perfectly manicured nails dig into Jake’s bicep, the heel of your foot pressing into his backside in an attempt to pull him closer as you gaze up at him through your lashes. “Please, baby– need you.”

“I got you, honey.” 

Your chin falls against your chest and you cry out as Jake scissors his fingers inside of you a few more times before they retreat completely, leaving you clenching around nothing and keening at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

The hand that was in your panties begins to trail slowly back down your thigh, and though you can’t see it through all the fabric of your skirt, you can feel the trail of slick it leaves along your skin in its wake. 

As Jake clutches your thigh in his firm grasp to hold you more securely against the wall, his other hand moves to the tent in his tight trousers where his throbbing length has been neglected.

How he’s able to hold you up with one arm while the other hand unfastens his dress pants is beyond you, but it’s moments like this that you’re grateful to have a big, strong naval aviator for a husband-to-be. 

Jake pushes his suit pants and underwear down just far enough to finally release his cock and you can’t help but moan at the sight of it. Long and looking almost painfully hard, the tip red and angry and weeping with precum. 

Jake lets out a groan as he wraps a fist around his length, relishing in the friction as his hand moves along the shaft and works to spread the pearls of his arousal from his tip down to the base. 

His hand then leaves his cock to push up the skirt of your dress as far as it can go. 

Deft fingers pry the seat of your panties from where they stick to your slick-soaked core, and gingerly move the fabric to the side so he can access your dripping cunt before he grabs ahold of himself again.

Jake lines his tip up to your entrance and pushes in slowly, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that pushes the air out of your lungs, stealing your breath and leaving you dizzy with it as his tongue tangles with yours. 

Your hands glide up the soft, expensive fabric on Jake’s arms, fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders as you gasp and writhe against him. Relishing in the feeling of him all over you. 

His lips covering your own, short breaths mixing with yours as you both pant and moan into the frantic kiss. His strong body, solid as the wall behind you as his front presses taut against you to hold you up, his long cock pushing deep inside of you with every single thrust and leaving you feeling so unbelievably full of him.

Jake pulls back from the kiss and looks down to where the two of you are connected. His length glistening with your arousal as it moves in and out of your tight walls, your beautiful, intricate wedding gown all bunched around your hips as he fucks you, and he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him when he thinks about how crazy this is.

“Wha-what’s so funny?” You ask breathlessly through kiss-swollen lips, your eyes that had previously been shut tight in bliss now opening to search out his green ones. 

“Just— this,” Jake’s gaze lifts to meet your eye as he continues to laugh, unsure if his brain is going fuzzy with pleasure, or if that’s just the intoxication of being with you. 

“My beautiful, perfect bride,” his hips slow just a touch, pressing forward in a particularly hard thrust that has you gasping and clutching onto his shoulders tighter, you and Jake moaning in unison before he continues, panting through his words.

“All a mess for me — fuck– right before we’re supposed to say ‘I do’ in front of all our family and friends– and pretty much everyone we know.”

Your eyes widen, lips tugging up into a bashful smile and you can’t help but giggle along with him, burying your head in his shoulder and speaking into the soft fabric of his jacket as he continues to fuck you.

“Oh god… well, I’m sure there’ll be some time to steam the dress again before I have to walk down the aisle.” 

You can feel Jake’s laughter reverberate against your cheek just before he cups your chin, lifting your face back up to be level with his and beaming at you with that megawatt smile. “There's my wife!” 

You’re both still grinning when he pulls you in for another kiss. Teeth gnashing against one another’s, mingled laughter and moans coming out in breathy puffs against each other’s lips as his cock works inside of you, his hips still moving against yours at an even pace.

“This is crazy.” You can barely get the words out, still giggling between messy kisses. 

“Yeah,” Jake punctuates with another press of his lips on yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lip and drawing out a quiet whimper as he pulls it back towards him and releases it before continuing. 

“It is crazy,” – Another kiss – “You make crazy, Sweets.”

With one more firm peck to your lips, you feel both of Jake’s hands wrap tighter under your thighs, rough fingers squeezing your ass as he hikes you up a bit higher against the wall, pressing impossibly closer to keep you firmly in place. 

The change of the angle combined with his thrusts accelerating in speed has you crying out loud as he ruts up into you, Jake’s lips moving to cover yours once again and muffle the sounds of your moans. 

You shudder against him as his tip prods against that spongy spot inside you that makes stars appear behind your closed lids with each and every thrust, and you feel that coil beginning to tighten again, the familiar heat rapidly licking at the base of your spine.

Jake knows you’re close when your nails begin to dig into his shoulders through the jacket of his tux as you gasp for air, your lips parting from his with a string of saliva still connecting them for a moment that makes him growl as your head lulls back to lean against the wall. Eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you quietly, breathlessly, cry out his name like a mantra.

Your body is sandwiched tightly between Jake’s and the wall as his length fills you, hips pinned to yours and barely able to pull out on each thrust for how tightly your walls are clamping around him, the coarse but neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his cock deliciously grazing your clit and setting your whole body alight.

He's the only thing keeping you upright when your orgasm hits you. His mouth swallows your cries as your whole body goes taut, holding Jake in a vice grip as you fall apart on his cock. 

Jake can feel it as all of the tension leaves your body. He continues in slow, shallow thrusts, the quiet of the room only accentuating the salacious sounds of your release flooding around him as he works you through your high. 

He pulls back from the kiss as your moans begin to subside to get a look at your fucked out, blissful expression. 

Your eyes are still closed, lips parted and now devoid of any of the nude-pink lipstick shade you’d been wearing before, and your skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat. 

Your chest rapidly rises and falls beneath the fitted white bodice of your wedding gown, accentuating your cleavage with each little pant as you try to catch your breath.

“So fucking pretty, honey,” Jake begins a light trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to your warm cheek, and up to your hairline where he whispers against the slightly damp skin. “My beautiful bride.”

Your hands scramble for purchase on his back, whimpering as you attempt to pull him in closer. 

“Jake- '' Your legs tighten around his hips, heels pressing against his backside where they’re crossed at the ankles, your desperate mewl mixing with Jake’s deeper grunt as the movement pushes him even deeper inside of you.  

“‘M so lucky to- to get to call you my husband,” Jake swears that his cocks swells just that little bit more at your loving words. “Cum for me. Wanna feel you.”

“Fuck.” The sweet praise whispered from your pretty lips sends him into a tailspin. 

You’ve barely come down from your high when Jake’s hips quicken their pace as he begins to chase his own release, the beginnings of overstimulation making you cry out a string of broken moans, incoherent whimpers of curses and his name. 

The fullness and the delightful drag of his cock through your tight walls making you clench around him harder, and the assault of his tip against your g-spot leaving you feeling boneless, your grip on his shoulders tightens like you’ll float away at any moment.

The way your velvety walls are squeezing him, your release soaking his length and the obscene sound it creates as he continues to fuck into you, have Jake right on the edge of his own high. 

His head falls to your shoulder where he grunts deeply into the crook of your neck. 

“So good, baby. So good for me.” He praises, peppering sweet kisses to your hot skin, a stark contrast to the harsh force of his hips pounding against yours as they begin to lose their rhythm. 

After a few more sloppy thrusts, Jake finishes inside you with a strangled groan. The familiar sensation of his cum filling your still-spasming walls pulls a contented sigh from your lips. 

Jake’s lips dot a trail of soft kisses along the heated skin of your shoulder and neck, then under your jaw before he lifts his face to be level with yours. Pressing his forehead against your own, the two of you stay there just breathing each other in as you catch your breath.

When the groomsmen realize just how much time has passed with still no sign of Jake, and with only minutes until the supposed start of the ceremony, Bradley is seeing red. 

For a moment, jumping to the worst conclusion — that Jake may be standing his little sister up on her wedding day — and he’s just about ready to murder the groom.

It’s only when Natasha knocks on the door to the groomsmens’ suite, looking frazzled as she asks him and the other Daggers if any of them have seen the bride, letting them know that you’ve gone missing as well, that Bradley and his wife both quickly come to the realization that the two of you must be together. 

So, Natasha and Bradley begin the hunt to find the soon-to-be newlyweds, the latter rolling his eyes before grumbling, “They’d better not be off somewhere fucking.”

Natasha only responds with a snicker because she knows that’s probably exactly what the two of you were doing. She offers her grumpy husband a sympathetic look and gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze before they split up to search through the maze that is the halls of your wedding venue. 

In no rush to move just yet, you and Jake just rest for a moment, foreheads pressed together, your body still sandwiched between his broad frame and the wall. His softening cock still inside of you, puffs of air warming each other’s lips as shallow pants become more steady breaths.

You know that you and Jake’s little er —detour— has almost definitely put things behind schedule for your big day, but in this moment you honestly couldn’t care less. 

When it’s just you and the love of your life, bodies intertwined and relishing in each other’s warmth, shared breaths becoming one, you can’t help but think that this day already couldn’t be more perfect.

You feel a flurry of excitement, your heart bursting at the thought that it’s always going to be like this. Solace in the fact that you’re Jake’s and he’s yours, that this is only the beginning of the rest of your lives together. 

He seems to share in the sentiment, pulling back to admire you for a moment before you feel his smile against your skin when he lightly presses his lips to your forehead. 

One of his hands reaches up to cradle your cheek, those green eyes are boring down into your own with that look of pure adoration once again as Jake moves to speak.

“God, I can’t wait to marry you,” His voice is breathy and full of awe–almost a laugh, eyes crinkling up at the corners in that way that you love as his smile begins to take up more of his face. “I’m so happy that you’re gonna be my wife.”

“Jake…” If you thought your heart was bursting before, you think it’s about ready to break free from your chest now, your eyes glistening with emotion as you lovingly look up at him through your lashes.

“You’re gonna make me cry and I don’t want to mess up my makeup any more than I probably already have,”

The two of you share a quiet laugh, smitten as ever as your hand makes its way up to cover his where it still rests on the side of your face. “But, to have you as my husband… I couldn’t be happier.”

Jake leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips before whispering against them. “Love you, Sweets.”

It’s only after you return his kiss and those three little words that have become as easy to you as breathing, that Jake finally pulls out of you and the two of you let out a simultaneous sigh. 

He reaches down to where the mix of his and your release begins to dribble out of your spent hole, a shattered moan falling from your parted lips as your head lulls back against the wall once more. 

Your legs begin to shake from the overstimulation as two of Jake’s long fingers push his cum back into you, expertly thrusting them in and out a few times before pulling them out again, and you find yourself grateful for the sturdy wall behind you when he purposefully brushes them against your oversensitive clit, leaving you breathless as he shifts your panties back into place to keep his cum inside. 

Your mind is cloudy of all things but Jake — his scent and his warmth and the feeling of his hands all over your skin, his pretty green eyes and his voice and his gorgeously cocky smirk — each one of your senses being invaded by him and you couldn’t be more content. 

And, you love knowing that underneath all the layers of fancy lace and tulle, right before the biggest moments of your lives, that you have his cum inside you.

Just as you part from one another, a knock on the door causes you to jump. 

You can hear Natasha out in the hall calling out your names and you and Jake share a look, wearing matching guilty smiles. 

However, it’s not long before his smile shifts into a more of a smirk, and you have to bite back a giggle as he rolls his green eyes playfully before leaning in to peck your cheek, pulling back to mouth the words ‘you good?’. 

With your grin and nod of confirmation, Jake leaves you with one more kiss, fastening the button on his pants and straightening out his dress shirt as he makes his way over to the door.

He pulls it open, still wearing that signature smirk on his face and Natasha glances up at him before she cautiously peeks her head in to see you too, hair smoothed out as much as you could manage on such short notice, the skirt of your wedding dress now back in place and hiding the fact that Jake’s cum is soaking through your underwear and beginning to drip down your thighs. 

“Thank god you’re clothed. I wasn’t looking to get scarred for life today.” Natasha breathes a sigh of relief and steps fully into the room. 

“You’re lucky you didn’t find us five minutes earlier.” Jake chuckles as you lightly smack his chest, that ever-cocky smile on his handsome face that you’ve come to love so very much over these last three years. 

You can’t help but snicker along with him when you catch sight of Natasha’s nose wrinkling in disgust. 

“Ok, ew… And you’re lucky I found you and not Bradley.” Natasha gives Jake a glare before clapping her hands in front of both of your faces. “Now come on, hurry the fuck up. The ceremony — your wedding ceremony — is about to start soon.”

You nod your head frantically, as if only just remembering where, and when, you are.

“Right, yeah! I just gotta go… clean up a bit.” you squeak out to your sister-in-law with a bashful grin before scurrying off the bathroom of the suite you’d snuck into. 

Natasha just gives Jake a deadpan look that conveys her slight disgust before leaving the room, making her way out into the hall to call Bradley and let the him know that she’s located the happy couple. 

After taking care of the mess between your legs and wiping off the smudged remnants of your lipstick in the bathroom mirror, you return to find Jake, who’s leaning up against the wall opposite the door, looking cool and calm and handsome as ever in his tux. 

Making your way over to him, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, letting out a little snort as your hands reach up to delicately fix his hair where it sticks out in a few places—no doubt from your tugging on it during your recent activities. 

Once Jake’s golden locks are back in a more presentable state, you smooth a hand down the nape of his neck, leaning up to attach your lips firmly to his. 

Jake groans into it as his mouth moves against yours with just as much fervor, his hands reaching blindly for your waist to pull you in closer, and the two of you share one last passionate kiss that you hope conveys both your love for him and your excitement to be marrying him — though Jake already knows. 

“Alright, Natasha’s going to kill me if I don’t get back in the next two minutes.” You pull away from his lush lips, reluctantly and breathlessly, wanting to live in this moment with him forever. 

Your arms unwrap themselves from behind Jake’s neck, but you don’t get very far when he reaches out to take one of your hands in his own, and you can tell he’s just as reluctant to end the moment too when he brings it up to his lips to kiss a trail from your knuckles to the tips of your fingers.

“Yeah, I’m not really looking forward to dealing with your brother either.” 

His words make you laugh in that sweet, boisterous way that he’s so ready to hear for the rest of his life and with that, Jake chuckles and lets you go, his hand still holding onto yours until you’re too far out of reach. 

Jake calls out your name just as you reach the door and you stop short, turning around to face him just as you pull it open. You stand in the threshold, brows raised, and look at him expectantly. 

“See ya out there, my beautiful bride.”

You’re surprised your cheeks don’t perpetually hurt from how much this man makes you smile.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, my dashing groom.” You leave him with a playful wink and that intoxicating smile, in a flash of flowing white fabric as you quickly retreat into the hallway. 

Jake chuckles to himself, moving over to the mirror to make sure he looks presentable, smoothing a hand over his hair and giving himself one last once-over before he makes his way back to his groomsmen. 

Trailing behind Natasha, you quickly make your way through the halls back to the bridal suite, giving her your most innocent smile when she peers back at you over her shoulder with a pointed look.

Your sister-in-law sends you a half-hearted scoff and a playful roll of her brown eyes, but you can see the smirk just beginning to grow at the corner of her lips before she turns and reaches out to open the door. 

“Come on.” Natasha half laughs, half groans, ushering you into the room.

Before you know it, you’ve got a plethora of people surrounding you once again — one giving your dress a very last minute steam to get rid of any wrinkles your activities with Jake a few minutes earlier had caused, others rushing around to touch up your hair and makeup and to finally pin up your veil. Although, this time around, you find that you’re unbothered. Feeling a lot more at ease, and you’re back in tip-top shape in record time. 

You’re practically vibrating in excitement and anticipation as Natasha and the rest of your bridal party shower you with hugs and their own squeals of excitement and encouragement before they make their way outside to the beautifully set up venue to get into their places for the ceremony. 

You give yourself one final once-over in the mirror, unable to curb the smile that grows at how beautiful you feel. 

It's only a few moments later when Bradley pokes his head in the door once more to ask if you’re ready. He takes in the giddy — and much more self-assured than earlier  —  smile on your face when you turn to him and nod your head excitedly. 

“Ya know, you can still back out of this if you wanted.” Your brother jokes, his tone teasing as his mustached lips form into a sly grin.

With a punch to your older brother’s shoulder, you pin Bradley with a pointed look and a sarcastic ‘ha ha’.

“Come on, I’m sure the Bronco would make a great getaway car!” He chuckles as your eyes widen in surprise.

“Bradley!” You move to punch his arm again, but he quickly ducks out of the way this time, and though your eyes are now narrowed at him in a feigned scowl, Bradley can tell that you’re not really angry with him by the way your lips are fighting back pulling up into a smile. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to hold my peace when that part comes up.” He raises his hands up in surrender and you can’t help but laugh along with Bradley’s joke, though not without a playful shake of your head and roll of your eyes. 

“You better!” Your big brother flinches as you lurch at him again, but this time, instead of hitting him, your fingers reach up to pinch his ear and it’s like the two of you are kids again; you giggling maniacally while Bradley — now a big, tough 6’1 fighter pilot — yelps in pain, arms flailing as he tries to get out of your grip.

He’d probably pull your hair like he did when you were kids too, if it wasn’t all styled to perfection with your beautiful sheer veil pinned to the crown of it, all ready for your big day. 

“I will, I will!” Bradley hisses through his teeth, chuckling as you release your hold on him to grab your bouquet that’s a beautiful mix of both yours and Jake’s favorite flowers, and then move to link your arm with his to begin the path down the hall. The path to the rest of your life and you couldn’t be more excited. 

As your brother guides you through the venue’s winding halls towards the doors to where the outdoor ceremony is being held, a gentle grin befalls your lips as you think about how you got here — and your big brother’s part in all of it. 

“You know… I know you told all the guys at your wedding to steer clear of me.” 

Bradley stops in his tracks at your divulgence, pulling you to a quick stop as well and nearly tripping you over your heels and the fabric of your long wedding gown.

“You wha- huh? You know?!” 

Admittedly, Bradley thought he was taking that secret to his grave.

“Yeah, I know.” You can’t help but giggle at your brother’s flustered expression. “Jake told me, a few months after we started dating.”

You’ve known for almost three years and you never said anything. Huh. 

Bradley stands there with his lips parted, but no words are coming out. He’s still in shock at the fact that you’re laughing about this. 

“So… you’re not mad?” He asks the question apprehensively, a grimace on his face as he awaits your answer. 

“No, I’m not mad.” You shake your head, still smiling as an airy laugh escapes you. 

“Well, maybe I was for like a second back then. But, I appreciate how much you want to protect me, Bradley. Even if it does make you an idiot sometimes.” 

You playfully roll your eyes and Bradley finally relaxes, shoulders dropping as he laughs along with you. 

“For what it’s worth, you and Jake actually aren’t a half-bad couple.” You playfully smack his chest in response to the — albeit sweet — jest. 

“Thank you.” You beam up at your brother, content knowing that that’s his way of letting you know he truly is happy for you and Jake. 

Bradley links his arm with yours again and continues leading you towards the doors. “I wish Mom and Dad could see how beautiful you look today. They’d be so proud.” 

“Oh, come on, Bradley! You’re gonna make me cry off my makeup!” You whisper-yell at him half jokingly as you finally reach the doors that will lead you out to the ceremony — to where you’ll very soon be married to the love of your life. 

“Me too.” Giving Bradley’s arm a gentle squeeze, the two of you share a smile, knowing that your parents will be there in spirit. And grateful for the fact that your uncle Mav who’s always been like a third parent to you will be there too. “Now, come on. Let’s go get me married!”

The wedding ceremony goes off without a hitch — albeit a little bit later than planned. 

When the music starts and Bradley walks you down the aisle, you’re surrounded by the smiling faces of friends and family. 

Although, your eyes are only on Jake — looking so unbelievably handsome in his tux and his wide smile and you can’t believe just how lucky you got — and his mossy green eyes are focused on only you. 

Both of your eyes shine with tears and it’s as if only the two of you exist in that moment when you meet him at the altar, the two of you happily joining hands with matching lovesick grins adorning your faces.

Though he’ll never admit it — and Natasha will never let him live it down — Bradley definitely shed a few tears himself as he listened to you and Jake exchange your vows. 

It’s been a long day of running around getting ready for the ceremony — and sneaking off for a quickie, of course — before marrying your soulmate in front of practically everyone you know, then taking countless family photos and enjoying a cocktail hour with your friends and family showering you and Jake in congratulations and well wishes. 

But, it’s all worth it because you’re finally able to call Jake your husband and you couldn’t be happier.

You’re both more than ready for the reception, ready to let loose and enjoy your time together as a newlyweded couple. 

After a nice dinner comes the best man and maid of honor speeches from Javy and Natasha, and a speech from Uncle Mav that includes a few embarrassing anecdotes about your childhood that have you giggling as you hide your face in Jake’s shoulder. 

Then it’s time for the newlyweds to make a toast before sharing your first dance to Fleetwood Mac’s Everywhere, the first song you and Jake danced to on the night when you met three years ago at your brother’s wedding. 

The two of you hold each other close and sway along to the music without a care in the world, Jake dipping you towards the end of the song and claiming your lips in a long kiss that has the entire room cheering — although again, it’s as if you and Jake are the only two who exist in that moment.

When Jake pulls back from the kiss, one of his large palms is still cupping your cheek, fingers gently grazing your skin as his green eyes gaze down at you in adoration. 

“I can’t believe you’re my wife.” He lightly shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m never gonna stop saying that — my wife.”

You’re smiling against one another’s lips as you pull Jake down for another kiss, giggling when you mouth parts from his. 

“I love you so much, my husband.”

You can see that familiar look of both adoration and hunger beginning to overtake Jake’s features in response to your words as your first dance comes to an end.

After sharing what would traditionally be a father-daughter dance with Mav, he returns you into your husband’s loving arms as others begin to join in on the fun, the dance floor now filling up with your guests. 

Jake sees his opportunity to whisk you away from the dancefloor, using the commotion to make a sneaky getaway — again. 

You should be used to it by now — his large hand warmly encompassing yours and pulling you along with him — but you still can’t help the giggles that break free as you quicken your pace to match his as best as you can in your heels, sprinting until the two of you have disappeared from dancefloor, and soon from your wedding reception entirely.   

Out of the ballroom doors and into the empty hallway, the loud music and sounds of your guests having fun now a muffled to barely-there background noise, you find yourself alone with Jake. Your husband.

You pull on Jake’s hand to bring him to a stop in front of you, turning him around and pulling him in closer to you as you lean your back against the closed door, gazing up at him with a lip-bitten smile. 

“What are we doing?” You question through a breathless laugh, although you’re pretty sure you already know the answer. 

Jake’s broad frame crowds you in closer to the door and you find your breaths coming in quicker as he presses the front of his body up against yours.

Your eyes flutter shut as he leans down even closer, his nose gently brushing yours, lips just shy of touching your own. His breath fans against them and it sends a shiver down your spine, a jolt going straight to your core when he speaks.

“Well, we’ve gotta consummate our marriage, Sweets.” Jake whispers against you, his mouth just barely grazing your own. “And I’d like to consummate it as soon as possible.”

The evident hunger in his voice has you frantically nodding against him, eyes still squeezed shut when you feel his front press impossibly closer to you — and the growing bulge there. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, honey. Gonna consummate the shit out of you.” 

Jake’s whispered words, and their mirthy tone, have you bursting into a fit of giggles, your head falling back against the door behind you. His own laugh joins in with yours as you shake your head at his silliness. You love this man so much.

Your hands reach up to the sides of his neck to pull your husband down for a kiss, lips and teeth clashing as neither of you can break the smiles from your faces. 

“You’re such a dork, Seresin.” You whisper sweetly against Jake’s lips.

“Yeah, but you love it… Mrs. Seresin.” His large hands squeeze your hips, both the heat you feel on your skin through the lacy fabric of your dress and the name making you giddy.

“Well… lead the way, Mr. Seresin!” 

You’re unable to contain the massive smile that breaks out on your face as Jake presses one last kiss to your lips, before grabbing your hand and beginning to pull you along with him once more, and you don’t care where takes you as long as your hand gets to be intertwined with his for the rest of your lives. 

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Thank you for reading! x

taglist: @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91 @memoriesat30 @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 @foreverrandomwritings @lt-spork @princess76179 @gigisimsonmars @kidd3ath @averyhotchner @sammyrenae68 @tv-fanatic18 @one-sweet-gubler @kmc1989 @onethirstyunicorn @avengersfan25 @fictionalmenloversblog @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @praline357 @girlsclub2004 @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @marvelogic @djs8891 @diorrfairy (pls let me know if you'd like to be removed 🤍)

tagging some others who might be interested: @hangmanssunnies @blue-aconite @sunlightmurdock @rhettabbotts @doreenwnsng @watchtowerindistress @dingochef @floydsglasses @lynnestra44 @ryebecca (i'm going to reblog and also tag all the rest of the people who reblogged part one! 🤍)

[sometimesanalice]

Call My Bluff

Summary: Rooster and Hangman have always attracted attention wherever they go. You aren't jealous, it’s just getting hard to ignore. It’s a good thing they're more than happy to remind you just who you belong with.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader x Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

Length: 5.8k

Warnings: smut and a dash of angst (mdni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the Up the Ante universe, however it can be read on it's own!)

You knew you were staring- casually observing, one could argue- but it was hard to pull your gaze away from Jake at the bar.

He had gone to get another round of drinks for everyone more than ten minutes ago. It was a busy night at the Hard Deck, but not that busy. It really shouldn’t have surprised you though to realize why he was held up, especially with the way his tight white t-shirt was offsetting his end of summer tan. He’s always been too damn charming for his own good, especially when it was paired with that deep rooted sense of southern hospitality.

It wasn’t a rare occurrence to see Hangman getting hit on by another woman. However, it was the second time that night he’d been approached by the same woman with all too interested eyes and an enticing smile.

“If I didn’t know better,” Rooster says, sliding up to you and squeezing your hip, “I’d say you’d look like you were jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” It comes out a bit too short to be believable.

He just gives you a knowing look, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “Well, you know I think you look gorgeous in pretty much everything. Including that particular shade of green.”

You let out an annoyed huff and take distracted sip of the remnants of your drink, which was now mostly melted ice cubes with an essence of gin.

Bradley just chuckles lightly and takes a quick glance around the room before pressing a quick kiss to the side of your head.

“I’m sure I could think of a couple ways to distract you," he offers.

You’ve been enjoying this something with them over the last few months. The three of you fell into everything so easily, but it wasn’t something you’d put a label on yet. You’ve always been the type of woman who likes having all the answers, but with them- with this- for the first time in your life you were ok with not having them.

There were electrifying nights the three of you spent together. And there were peaceful nights you spent home alone. There were times it was just you and Rooster and other times when it was just Hangman and you. There was time spent in beds and out of them. There were sunny days spent on the beach. There were hours spent taking road trips and exploring your new state. There were nice dinners out and quiet nights in. There were reservations made for two and there were tickets bought for three.

It was a new dynamic for you, and something you’d never could have expected. And you’ve been happy.

Really, really happy.

But over the last couple of weeks, it’s been hard ignoring the voice in the back of your head that has been filling your brain with all the what-ifs.

What if this isn’t working for them the way it was working for you.

What if this causal arrangement you have with them isn’t enough.

Or worse, what if you’re being selfish with them.

As you watch Hangman with that smooth smile on his face- but without a trace of those dimples you know so well- as he talks to the pretty girl near his elbow, you can’t help but wonder if this something – with him, with them- comes with an expiration date.

The room feels too small with the crowd of people- with their loud chatter and booming bursts of laughter- and all the too big thoughts swirling around in your head. Everything feels like too much, from the rings of ceramic mugs on the ceiling to the string lights and model planes around the bar to the patches covered walls.

“I’ll be right back,” you murmur, stepping out of Bradley’s grasp.

He hums, letting you know he’d heard you, giving you your space before drifting over to the pool table where the rest of the Daggers are gathered around.

And then you walk straight out the front door and leave.

You’ve been home for less than an hour when you hear a set of car doors shut with a heavy thud outside of your house. And there’s no question in your mind about who it could be.

The two quick, sharp raps on your front door only a few moments later confirm what you already knew.

You’d turned your phone off the moment you’d gotten in your car, wanting some time to yourself, not in any kind of mood now to be around other people. The only thing you could think of had been getting home so that you could simmer in peace. You had just wanted to get your head back on right without feeling like the walls were pressing in on you.

You open the door to see Rooster standing there looking pissed. His big arms crossed over his chest, jaw tight, and lips pressed firmly together in a flat line. Jake is just a step behind him, leaning against the porch post with his poker face already in place, a pretty picture of nonchalance.

“We tried calling,” Bradley rasps, the words clipped and short. You can tell he’s trying to keep his temper in check, but there was no missing the storm cloud behind his eyes.

You blink at him and drum your nails on the side of the door, giving him a flippant shrug. And Jake lets out a low disapproving whistle that grates on your already ragged nerves.

Rooster lifts an eyebrow at you like really. He’s always been the more hot headed one of the two of them. You know this cold shoulder act of yours is pushing his buttons, and you’re surprised he hasn’t called you out on it yet.

Not that you’d probably answer him anyways.

The last thing you want to do is talk.

It was why you left in the first place.

You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t want to think. And you really didn’t want to deal with your feelings.

Sex was easy. Sex was fun. Sex wasn’t complicated.

Everything else is exactly what you’d been trying to get away from, and instead all you’d done was have it delivered directly to your doorstep.

“I don’t remember inviting either one of you over,” you state, coolly, doing your best to feign indifference.

Rooster’s mouth drops opens, but Hangman is quicker on the draw. “And yet, here we are,” he says, stating the obvious, then mirroring the same brazen shrug you’d given the glowering man in front of you. “Guess the question is, are you going to let us in?”

You know without a doubt that if you said no they’d respect your decision and walk themselves right back to Jake’s truck and out of your drive away. You could have your space to simmer, just like you’d wanted.

What you’d thought you wanted.

…

Or.

Or maybe you just needed to remind yourself what exactly this is. Since there’s not much room to think when you’re too busy coming.

You drag your gaze from Bradley’s smoldering whiskey brown eyes to Jake’s all too observant sea green ones, before spinning away from them to saunter down the hallway towards your bedroom.

Knowing you still have the full weight of their twin stares on you, you reach for the hem of the oversized shirt from your college days that you’d thrown on the second you’d arrive home and tug it up and off, dropping it on the floor right before you turn the corner and out of their view.

There are a few noises you’re able to pick out in the too quiet of your house over your thundering heartbeat as you flick on the switch to the lamp in the corner of your room. The click of the front door being shut and the deadbolt turned into place. The sound of their sturdy soled shoes being toed off at the entry. The low baritone of Hangman’s murmured drawl, although the words that are spoken are too soft for you to make out.

And then the one you’d been anticipating the most, their weighty footsteps coming down the hallway to your bedroom. They’ve always teased you about it, with all of the soft pinks and creamy neutrals, and how it looks too sweet, too pure for a woman who enjoys taking two cocks as much as you do. But you’d seen the gleam in their eyes and the gears turning in their heads when they’d help you set up your pretty white wrought iron bedframe; it was the one thing they’d never commented on, especially since you were more than happy letting them tie you up to it.

You’ve just shimmied out of your panties- still bent at the waist- when you hear Bradley groan behind you. You linger there a moment longer than you need to, making sure he gets a good look at you like this. From reflection in the mirror that’s hung on your wall, you can see that the irritation is still rolling off of him in waves, but so is the heat of his want as he watches you stand back up with greedy, appreciative eyes.

Turning back towards him you let him take his fill of your naked body, one hip temptingly tipped to the side, daring him to be the one first to make a move.

Rooster slowly drags his heated gaze over you before he pulls his t-shirt over his head in that one-handed way that men do before pitching it off to the side. His broad chest is already starting to turn your favorite shade of flushed pink.

“How can a girl as pretty as you be so goddamn frustrating?” he mutters as he flicks open the button of his tight jeans. Only unzipping them enough to release some of the pressure off his visibly hard cock in a way that shows you just how turned on he is.

You feel high off of your own self-satisfaction as it twists and swirls in your chest.

“I think she just likes keeping us on our toes,” Hangman drawls, entering the room. A slight look of amusement coasts over his handsome face as he looks from you to Rooster. Clearly content to wait for the two of you to work whatever’s going on out of your systems.

You skim your fingers up your body and cup your breast in your hand. “What? You don’t think you can keep up, Rooster?” you challenge. He tips his head back up towards the ceiling and forces out a breath through pursed lips. And you’re tempted to see just how far you can push him.

“Oh, darlin’,” Jake chuckles, shaking his head, “You’re determined to trouble tonight, aren’t you?”

“And if I am?” you taunt, rolling your nipple between your fingers. Two sets of eyes hone in on the motion, but no one makes a move. “But if you both are just going to stand there, I’ve got a vibrator that works just as well- if not better.”

You’re trying to goad them. You know it and they know it.

Rooster struts up to you, grabbing a handful of your ass and hauls you against him. He’s thick and firm against your stomach. “If you’re going to act like a brat, then I’m going to treat you like a brat, baby,” he murmurs into the hinge of your jaw, “Now, get on the bed.” He punctuates the order with a swift, firm flat-handed slap.

And for the first time since you’d left the bar, you grin. Feeling entirely too pleased with yourself, even with the lingering sting of his handiwork.

This. This is what you want.

You want demanding fingers and the scrape of teeth on your skin. You want messy mouths and generous tongues.  You want fast and hard and filthy and rough. You want to hear their heavy breaths and moans and curses. You want to give and to take, only for them to reward you with more.

You want as much of them as you can have, for as long as you can have them.

Bradley basically herds you to the bed while Jake watches on with a smirk, not that you needed much convincing anyways. The second you’re stretched across it, Bradley is on top of you wedging himself and those wide shoulders of his between your thighs.

There’s no build up, no gentle lead in. Rooster’s mouth is set on ruination.

He’s had you enough times that he knows exactly how to flick and circle and lave over you in a way that will end with white noise in your ears and starbursts behind your eyelids. His tongue is unrelenting on your clit, showing you no mercy as you start to quake under his touch.

It’s dizzying how fast he’s gotten you so spun up. Your breaths are coming out ragged and uneven as your fingers dig into the fabric of your gauzy duvet. And every time you whimper, he rewards you with a groan that only ripples up and throughout your keyed up body.

You’re right there, so so close to unraveling.

And then he pulls his mouth off of you, “Why’d you leave?”

A shocked gasp escapes you. At the timing of the question and the way he bites the fleshy part at the crease of your thigh.

“Bradley.” You keen as he sucks the very same spot, like he wants to mark you as his own.

“C’mon now, Bradshaw,” Jake tuts, from where he’s leaning against the door jamb, “Our girl was so close.” His ankles casually cross over each other, looking right at home as he watches you get eaten out by another man.

Rooster scoffs. “She can come as much as she wants, after she answers the damn question.” He brings the hand that had been gripping your hip over the center of you. “How about this,” he says, sinking a single thick finger into you, “Consider this a show of good faith.”

And then he has the audacity to send you a smirk.

“Fuck you, Rooster,” you huff, tilting into his touch. Bradley just hums and rolls his eyes, because he knows you well enough to tell when you actually mean it and when you don’t.

“You could be,” he reminds you. Then crooks his finger just enough to show you how devastatingly good it could be if he wasn’t set on edging an answer out of you.

You roll your hips trying to take more. To get him to give more. Anything to get you to that heady place again, where the only thing keeping you grounded in the moment is their bodies against yours.

“That’s it, sweetheart, keep riding his fingers.” Hangman’s hot gaze roams all over you as he crosses the room to sit down on the bed next to you. He reaches out and runs a big hand down your sternum, you arch into it offering more of yourself up to his touch. You know he’s feeling every jump of the muscles in your stomach under his heavy hand as he rests it in the soft space under your bellybutton.

You suck in a breath when Bradley teases you with a second finger. He only allows you one heartbeat of hope before he denies you that more, more, more you’re desperate for.

But he wasn’t the only one in the room capable of giving you exactly what you wanted.

“Jake, come on, fuck me.” You look up at him from under your lashes, hoping he’ll be the one to cave first.

“You’re a regular poet laurate, aren’t you,” Jake states, shaking his head at you.

You shoot him a glare. “I’ll write you a haiku later, just make me come.”

You feel a puff of air over your cunt from Rooster’s amused chuckle. It causes you to clench around his finger, but it’s not enough to get you there.

You try to reach for Hangman’s cock, still confined in the snug jeans he was wearing. He doesn’t even give you the chance to undo the top button before he catches your hand in his. “Nuh-uh, greedy girl, none of that.” Hangman presses the palm of your hand over his length, showing exactly what you’re being denied. “Not sure you’ve earned this, not after your disappearing act.”

“Not you too,” you pant. Weren’t sure if it was the weight on your chest or the sheer want of them that was making it hard for you to get a proper breath.

“Yes, me too. I don’t think you realize just how much you worried the old man,” Jake drawls, “You know that can’t be good for his heart.”

The old man between your trembling thighs takes the opportunity to rub his mustache over your needy clit, the friction of it almost makes you jump out of your too tight skin. And for an all too brief moment your mind blanks as need ricochets throughout your body, the only thing you can think of is how desperate you are to come.

Jake collects your other wrist in his warm hand and brings them up above your head. He leans over you, with your faces only a few inches apart you can smell the peppermint of his favorite mints on his breath.

“Leave them up there for me,” he murmurs. It’s a command that’s dressed up like a request.

He pauses a moment and searches your eyes, asking you a silent question with the resolved dip of his chin. You answer by curling your fingers into the edge of your mattress, it’s your first concession of the evening. The only one you’re planning on making.

Jake gives them a quick squeeze before he lets go, “Good girl.” His southern accent is smoother and richer than honey against your ear, it makes your toes curl in response.

“Oh, now you want to behave,” Bradley grumbles into your inner thigh, his slightly chapped lips scraping against your oversensitive skin. “Don’t forget, I’m still waiting for an answer, baby.”

His fingertip on your clit isn’t teasing anymore, now it feels like a taunt.

“Next question.” You dig your heel into his shoulder blade, urging him for more, but he doesn’t budge an inch.

Neither one of you are ready to fold.

You can feel the sweat starting to collect behind your knees where they’re resting over the overheated skin of Bradley’s shoulders as he alternates between slow, shallow thrusts and a featherlight touch of his calloused fingertip against your clit. Every now and then- if he’s feeling generous- he’ll treat you to his tongue, dipping out to taste and tease you.

Rooster takes his time in that thorough way of his to get your legs quivering and quaking. He keeps you teetering there, perfectly and precisely balanced on the edge. Not enough to get you off, but just enough to keep a steady flow of wetness dripping out of you. You don’t need to see his hand to know you’re making a mess out of him. Out of yourself. And probably out of your duvet.

Your body feels like a house of cards, just one breath away from toppling over. gust

“Jesus,” Jake says, his voice husky and rough, “I won’t ever get tired of seeing you like this.” His eyes feasting on your body that’s displayed just for their hungry gaze.

But he might, that voice in your head taunts you. They might.

You press your forehead into his denim covered thigh, it’s all too much and not enough all at once.

This wasn’t what you’d imagined when you’d invited them inside. You’d envisioned hand mussed hair and skin-on-skin and their flushed, satisfied faces. And so far, you were still the only one naked.

“You’re not… This isn’t…” Your fingers flex as your arms strain with the effort to keep them where they are raised above your head. “Why are you still dressed?” you hotly demand, not ready to forfeit this one-sided fight.

“I’m just here for the free show.” Hangman circles his finger lazily around your bellybutton. “You’ve been so determined to be so tight-lipped all night, but that pretty pussy of yours is sure making a lot of noise for a woman who hasn’t even been properly fucked yet.”

You’re hit with the realization that he’s giving you a taste of what you’d been dishing out since the moment they’d arrived, always one to give as good as he gets. It was just as hot as it was infuriating. Because that’s the thing about knowing how to push someone’s buttons was that they knew exactly how to push yours in return.

“You better watch your mout-ah.” You might have sounded almost convincing if Rooster hadn’t pumped three thick fingers into you suddenly, stretching and spreading you around them. You gasp and arch off the bed at the sensation. It’s the most he’s given you all night.

Jake tsks, flashing you his dimples. “But I’m having fun watching his mouth instead,” he says, nodding his head towards Bradley. “Speaking of, you got a little something on your chin there, Bradshaw.”

“That’s because arguing gets her wet.”

You can’t even deny it because the evidence is right there for them both to hear in the slick sound of him thrusting his fingers back into you. You press your head into the bed and try to arch your hips, but Jake’s firm hand pushes them back down, making you whine.

“Rooster, please, I just want to come.” And if it sounds like begging, it’s because you are now.

“And you know what I want, so it seems we’re at a stalemate.” You try to hitch your right leg open further, but Bradley hooks his arm around your thigh and pulls it back in, keeping you in place. “Baby, I’ve got all the time in the world. I’m a patient man. For as much fun as I’m having here trying to get an answer out of you, I’d much rather be coaxing orgasms from you instead.”

The frustration swells and crests inside of you. You’re tired of being toyed with when all you’d wanted was to not have to think for a while.

“Bradley, you can’t seriously expect me to want to have a damn heart-to-heart when your fingers are literally inside of me,” you fume.

“Ok, then.” He pins you with a pointed look and withdraws them, finally calling your bluff. “Can you please tell us what the hell is going on now?”

Jake tips your chin up to look at him, the congeniality replaced on his face with seriousness. “As much as I try to avoid agreeing with him, I think you owe us an explanation for why you left without saying a single word to either one of us, darlin’.”

“I didn’t realize I answered to you,” you say, haughtily. Not proud of yourself for getting short with them when they don’t deserve the heat of your irritation.  

His eyebrows pull together in confusion. “Hey now, you know it’s not like that.”

“What’s it like then, Jake? It’s not like you’re-” you cut yourself off, pressing your lips tightly together.

Of course he doesn’t let it slide. “We’re not what?”

Him and Rooster exchange a look over the top of you when you don’t elaborate further, some unspoken understanding passing between them. The mood between the three of you shifting immediately.

Hangman tugs you up just enough for him to maneuver himself behind you and cradles you back against his chest, his arms winding themselves around your waist. As Bradley rests his chin on top of your thigh, his thumb making soothing circles on the swell of your hip, “We’re not what, baby?” And you’re not sure you’ve ever heard his raspy voice so soft before.  

The silence stretches as you war with yourself. They know you well enough to know you need a moment. You’d made a career for yourself knowing the right words- the strategic kind- but when it came to communicating your feelings, you’d always found it so much harder to string them together.

This is the exact conversation you’d been trying so hard to run from, but you didn’t want to play games with them anymore.

Sharing your emotions makes you feel a thousand times more vulnerable than being naked in front of them ever has. With them you feel sexy and powerful and wanted, especially when you’re pressed between them like you are now. It’s a different kind of intimacy entirely letting them see the confusing mess of what’s going on inside your mind.

“Does this have anything to do with Rooster teasing you about being jealous earlier tonight?” Hangman asks, lifting an eyebrow. “Because you should know by now that I only have eyes for one girl.”

And there it is- bullseye. 

Your gaze slides over to Bradley, “You told him about that?” He shrugs a broad shoulder, which jostles the thigh that’s still draped over it.

“He was concerned when we realized you weren’t at the Hard Deck anymore, we both were.” Jake cups your cheek and turns your face back to him, encouraging you to rest your head on his shoulder.  “I asked him to fill me in on what I’d missed, because I thought we were having a good night up until I came back from the bar to learn you weren’t anywhere to be found and not answering your phone.”

The wave of guilt that washes over you makes your stomach churn uncomfortably. You’d been so inside your own head that you hadn’t taken even a moment to think about how they’d feel about your impulsive retreat. At the very least, you should have sent a text before turning off your phone.

You chew on your lower lip for a moment, before speaking, your voice quiet and tentative, “You can’t be jealous when you don’t have any real claim to someone.”

It’s not like you can be frustrated at anyone other than yourself. You were the one who wanted to try and keep things discreet. Casual. Because of your job and theirs. People talked enough on their own without you wanting to give them any more fuel to add to the smoking embers.

The rumors of your favorite aviators’ hook up had followed them for years since that first time it happened in Florida, just not many people knew that it had been you from the very start. You’d all kept in touch, but infrequent nights spent tangled in sheets before returning back to your real life was different than all of you being stationed together for the foreseeable future.

The ambiguity of what you all were to each other had chafed at you tonight in a way it never has before. It wasn’t something that you’d all talked about together before. After seeing the interest on the other woman’s face, you couldn’t deny that her and Jake had looked good together. But what you’d been most struck by was just how content and at ease he looked leaning there with an elbow at the bar.

It wasn’t a secret those closest to you all there was something going on between the three of you. After all, Bradley was affectionate and Jake was objectively the least subtle man on the planet. It wasn’t something you were hiding; it just wasn’t something you were actively trying to broadcast to all of NAS North Island.

But for the most part, they’d been following your lead since they knew you liked to keep your cards close to your chest. And while you liked to consider yourself an enigma, they were both looking at you right now like you were a book that only they were fluent in reading.

“‘Real claim’,” Jake repeats back to you, slowly. Like he’s not believing what he’s hearing. “Oh darlin’, where’d you get that idea?”

“Is that what this is all about?” Rooster’s eyes are intense as he looks at you. “Just because we’ve been keeping things casual doesn’t mean this thing between all of us isn’t the real deal. I’m not seeing or sleeping with anyone else. And I don’t want to.”

“I’m not either,” Hangman adds, running his hands along your sides. “I’ve got my hands more than full with you and I like it that way.”

You knew that they weren’t and they knew you weren’t too. Sex has always been the easier thing to talk about. That particular discussion had ended with the mix of their cum dripping out of you and too many orgasms to count.

But what happened if having fun turned into wanting more. You didn’t know how long they’d be fine with this dynamic, with splitting time and attention.

You look from one to the other. From green to brown. “And you’re both truly fine with sharing? I need you to be really honest with me.”

Bradley tilts his head at you, and asks, “You don’t think we’ve talked about this before?”

A surprised laugh almost slips out of you at the mental image of them hashing out their feelings during the commercials between some game on TV, but he’s looking at you so thoughtfully that you know he’s being entirely serious. The fact that this was something they’d already discussed between themselves on their own was news to you, especially considering you felt like you could barely get the words out yourself.

“I had no idea,” you admit, not sure whether to feel sheepish or not.

Jake tangles the fingers of your right hands together. “The way I see it is that even when you’re not with me, I know you’re with someone I know and trust, who cares about you just as much as I do. Someone who’s going to look out for you the same way that I would.”

You almost expect him to tack on a joke at Rooster’s expense at the end, a bit of banter or something to liven the mood, but he doesn’t. And the weight of his words sinks into you.

“And when we’re together? When it’s the three of us?” You reach out with your other hand to run your thumb along Bradley’s jaw, needing to touch him too.

“You know us pilots, we’re a competitive bunch. But we also work as well on our own as we do as a team.” Bradley explains, running his hands along the outside of your legs. “And what we do here together with you, it just feels like an extension of how we are up there.” Jake squeezes your hand in agreement.

“But how is this going to work? It’s already complicated enough when there are only two people in the equation.”

“You’re the one calling the shots here. You’re in charge and always have been ever since that first time in Pensacola,” Rooster reminds you. “We’re both here because we don’t want anyone else. This doesn’t need to be complicated. Whether you’re with him or with me or we’re all together. It’s already working just fine when you aren’t going ghost on us and ditching us without saying a word.”

You know you’re going to have to make it up to him. For as confident and sure of himself as Bradley Bradshaw is, you know the spots where he’s tender and tonight you were careless with them. You’re just grateful he’s going to give you the chance to make things right by him.

“We’re good. This is good,” Jake promises, leaning his forehead against your temple.

You feel like your heart might burst from the sheer affection you have for the two of them.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” you say, apologetically.

Hangman’s lips skim your cheek. “It’s water under the bridge, darlin’. But if you need space, tell us. Don’t just cut us off like that, ok?” You nod in agreement. “So what do you need from us? Do you want to call us your boyfriends?”

“I think I just…” You pause to mull over your words. They already were in all the ways that mattered, you just weren’t sure whether you were ready to define it entirely. At least not yet. “I think I just need to know that you’re happy. Just like this. With how we’ve been doing things.”

“Baby.” Bradley croons. So sweetly, so indulgently. And you get the first real smile you’ve seen from him since he arrived on your doorstep. It’s your turn to smile when he drops a kiss to the top of your thigh. “Are you happy?”

The answer is easy.

“Yes.”

He looks over at Jake. “And are you?”

Jake has his chin propped up on your shoulder. “I’m happy,” he confirms, kissing the spot behind your ear that always makes you shiver deliciously.

“And I definitely don’t have anything to complain about.” Rooster says, gesturing to his spot between your legs. You lightly tug on his hair and he laughs. “Yes, sweetheart, I’m happy too.” He reaches for your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it.

“So I was the only one overthinking things?”

“You sure were,” Hangman agrees, “You and that big brain of yours.” He trails open-mouth kisses up your neck. “Now have you straightened out your shit or are we going to have to do it for you?” he asks into the shell of your ear. You can feel the grin he’s wearing, and you’re positive if you turned to look at him you’d see those dimples of his.

“No promises,” you sing.

Because where’s the fun in that?

“There she is,” Bradley murmurs, honeyed and soft. A sigh escapes you when you feel his tongue along the inside of your thigh, even as your heart starts to race.

“That’s our girl.” Jake tips your head back, lips a whisper away from yours and desire reflected in his green eyes. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to kiss me until he makes you come. And then I’m going to fuck the attitude out of you while you apologize to Rooster for being so mouthy. We’re gonna remind you what it’s like to have two aviators wrapped around your little finger. Sound good?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply as he slips his tongue into your mouth at the same time Bradley licks into you. And you know this time you won’t have to beg for an orgasm, you’ll probably have to beg them to stop serving you them.

You feel yourself melt into them. The tension you’d been carrying since even before the bar fades with every one of their touches. Happy and content in knowing that they’re yours just as much as you are theirs.

And true to his word, you’re kissed through an orgasm. And another. And another.

That night, there are two mouths that never leave your body once.

Two sets of hands that are just as capable of keeping you grounded as they are giving you pleasure.

Two warm, strong bodies that give and take then hold you throughout the night.

Two men who- one day very soon - might possibly share your whole heart.

Many thanks to the person who sent me this ask! I had fun writing this one! Thank you for reading!

Many thanks to Jordan ( @gretagerwigsmuse ) as always!

If you want more of them, here is the fic that started it all!

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[beyondthesefourwalls]

Cowboy Resolutions

Summary: New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck with all of your friends was a tradition, one that you loved and held close to your heart. When you and your husband decide to slip away from the crowd for a late night stroll on the beach right before midnight, you realize that neither of you had the purest of intentions when it came to wanting to get away. 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.8K Warnings: Smut with a dash of fluff, including shenanigans in public. Language.

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You feel his arms wrap around you right before you hear his voice in your ear, low and husky and trying too hard to be sexy to actually be sexy. 

“Hey there darlin. How about we be naughty together and save Santa a trip next year?” 

You can’t help the snort you let out as you start laughing. Jake kisses your neck playfully before you turn in his arms to face him, chest pressed to his. You’re careful not to spill the drink you had just gotten. “If that’s how it works, I’m pretty sure we secured our spot on the naughty list on Christmas day a week ago, pretty boy.” 

He wags his eyebrows dramatically, drawing another giggle out of you. “I think you’re right, beautiful. Several times, if I remember correctly.”

“On that note, I’m going to play pool before I vomit everywhere.” 

You ignore Nat’s gag and loud proclamation; you don’t need to look at her to know that she rolled her eyes as she walked away from where the two of you had been chatting at the bar before your husband had interrupted. 

“Well they say you’re supposed to bring in the year the way you want to spend it,” you tell him, and he hums thoughtfully. 

“A year of amazing sex with my absolutely smokin’ wife? Screw the good list, where do I sign?” 

His voice gets lower the closer he brings his face to yours, and by the last word, you can feel him speak against your lips. You grin into it when he finally kisses you. Despite the fact that every regular in the bar should be used to seeing your public displays of affection after years of it, cat calls still ring out over the sound of chatter and the jukebox. You roll your eyes while you pull away, but Jake’s shameless smirk is enough to soften your smile. 

“Jealous fuckers,” he mutters, and you’ve gone through this enough to know he’s only joking. His eyebrows raise again and he lets his hand drift to slide over your butt, squeezing once through the material of your skirt. “Maybe we should really give them something to gawk out.” 

You laugh at his familiar antics and shake your head. “Down, Cowboy.”

But you know that Jake's playful nature, one that not many people get to see, is one of the things you love most about him. His ability to make even the simplest moments feel special and exciting is what keeps the flame alive in your relationship, even after all this time.  

“Aww, darlin. You’re no fun.” 

“Careful now,” you tell him, linking your fingers through his and starting to make your way through the crowd to where your friends have gathered by the pool tables. You grin at him playfully over your shoulder, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Or you won’t get any kisses at midnight.” 

The sound of Jake’s laughter was one of your favorite sounds in the whole world, and you let it surround you as you greet the group you considered family. New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck was something you had done the last two years, and with this third occurrence, you thought it was a solidified tradition amongst you all. It’s nice, being able to have those now. You and Jake have moved around a handful of times in your relationship, never in one spot for long, but San Diego is somewhere you’re so glad to actually call home now. It’s something you were unbelievably grateful for - that, and these people who continuously brought so much joy into your life. 

As the night wears on, the bar becomes increasingly crowded and lively. The music thumps through the speakers, blending with the laughter and conversations that filled the air. It’s when Bradley unplugs the jukebox and settles in at the old, worn piano by the bar that your husband links his fingers through yours, tugging lightly. You look over at him to see him tilt his head toward the general direction of the back door. You smile lightly, knowing what he’s asking without him having to utter a word, and you nod. 

As you take a break from the crowded bar and step outside into the crisp night air, Jake wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. 

“Take a walk with me?” he asks, and you murmur your assent. You know that the heeled boots you’re wearing won’t mix well with the sand, so using him as an anchor, you bend to take them off. You sigh in relief once your toes hit the sand, feeling cool and refreshing through the barrier of your socks. 

“Lead the way,” you smile. 

The moon hangs low in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the ocean.  He keeps you tucked into his side as you walk along the empty beach, the music and lights from the bar fading with every step. The chilly wind bites at your cheeks, but the warmth of the alcohol you had consumed and Jake's body keeps you cozy. If you weren’t always so in tune with his touch, you may have missed the way his hand progressively slid lower and lower on your back. 

“I feel like you didn’t have the purest intentions with this walk,” you murmur. A shiver runs through you that has nothing to do with the breeze and everything to do with the sound of his low, deep laughter. It rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your side. 

“Well, darlin’, you know me too well.” He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your temple. "Maybe I had a little ulterior motive," he admits, his voice laced with something.  “What do you say?” 

You giggle as he kisses down the side of your face, featherlight and intoxicating, and tugs lightly on your ear. “Here?” 

“No,” he says, “there.” 

He points, and through the darkness, you see the old lifeguard stand, unmanned this late at night, especially this far down the beach. His suggestion hangs in the air, thick with appeal and eagerness.

“Well,” you say after a brief moment of contemplation that really didn’t take long at all. You take a step away from him, your body automatically missing his warmth even as it thrummed with excitement. You shoot him a look that you know he recognizes by how his smile transforms. “I did say you should bring in the year the way you want to spend it, didn’t I?” 

You take off in a run at the same moment he reaches for you, and you squeal with laughter as he chases you right to where he pointed earlier - right to where you want him now. 

He presses you against the wooden structure once you both reach it, and without breaking stride, his lips are on yours. The kiss is slow and tantalizing at first, but soon enough, it deepens, and his tongue sweeps into your mouth in a familiar dance that leaves you breathless. He tastes like whiskey and the leftover mini candy canes you kept in your purse and your heart races. The sounds of the crashing waves and distant partying from the bar fade away as you sink into his embrace. You feel his other hand slide up your thigh, tracing slow circles on your skin. His touch is electric, making your body hum. Even the cool breeze nipping at your exposed skin isn’t enough to cool you down. 

As he pulls back, breathing heavily, you run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness of it between them. His breath comes out hot against your lips as he whispers, "I love how responsive you are to me."

His mouth descends upon yours again. His hand moves higher, cupping your breast through your sweater, his fingers teasing your nipple through the fabric. Your response is instantaneous; you arch your back and groan, completely caught up in the moment.  "How do you want it?" he asks, kisses trailing down your neck. You tilt your head to allow easier access to your throat. 

"Jake," you moan. You clutch at him, one hand in his hair and the other wrinkling the material of his flannel shirt. 

"Tell me, darlin'," he requests, commands, and you whimper as it's accompanied by a bite of your skin. "How do you want it? You want to climb up in the chair? Or you want me to take you right here against it?" 

It was hard to think with the way he was touching you and the feel of his lips on yours. But you suddenly had the undeniable urge to ride him. The added bonus of being elevated off the ground like you would be, all the while being safe in your husband’s arms, sent a chill of excitement through you. “Up,” you breathe, pushing him away just slightly. 

You’re both clumsy as you eagerly climb up onto the raised, wide seat. You hiss at the cold of the wood as your knees settle on either side of his thighs, but his touch distracts you immediately as he tugs your short skirt up to bunch at your waist, allowing you to sit on his lap more comfortably and without risk of stretching the material. You smirk for just a second before a groan tears from his throat when his fingers meets nothing but skin. 

“You forget to put something on, baby?” he husks, and you shake your head. You don’t even try to look innocent. 

“You weren’t the only one with ulterior motives, Cowboy.” 

Your hands move to his belt buckle, undoing it with practiced ease. He watches you intently as you move on to the button and zip of his jeans. He's hard under your hands and god, you want him. But you know you're not the only one. Jake groans, his hips thrusting instinctively into your touch. Your eyes flash to his and you see him biting his lip as he watches you intently, his green eyes dark with desire. You feel powerful like this, seeing the hunger there. 

You pull his erection from the denim keeping him confined. He's hard and thick, the head glistening with a bead of pre-cum. You can't resist running your hand over the smooth, velvety skin, stroking him gently. Jake's breath hitches, his eyes fluttering shut as you continue to stroke him. He keeps a hand steady on your back, ensuring your balance, but lets the other reach down between your legs. His touch brushes against your own as he goes, stroking through the liquid heat he finds. You moan softly as his fingers find their way inside you, matching the rhythm of your hand on him. His thumb swipes across your sensitive clit, sending a jolt of need through you. You gasp, your other hand pulling at the back of his head, drawing him closer. 

"Jake, please," you beg, arching into his touch. He pulls his hand away from you just long enough to position himself at your entrance. He drags his cock through your wetness, coating himself. He's hard and ready, and you can't wait any longer. "Please." 

He doesn't need any further encouragement as he slowly enters you, stretching you open in the best way. You cry out in pleasure, your head falling back as you feel him deep inside you. 

"God, you feel so good," he whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin. Like you want to prove to him that you can be even better, you lift yourself off of him slowly, sinking back down as he moans. "That's my girl." 

His muscles tense under your touch, urging you on, and you oblige without hesitation. His hands keep a firm grip on your waist as you set a steady rhythm. Your thighs burn deliciously from the exertion, but you don’t mind, leaning forward to capture his lips. It's a frenzied tangle of tongues and teeth, while his hips buck upward into yours. The feel of him inside you is exhilarating, driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Your hands twine in his hair, pulling his head back just enough so you can look into his eyes. They're lust-filled and dark, mirroring the emotions swirling within you. 

"Harder," you pant. 

"Fuck, baby," he growls as he speeds up his pace. He thrusts into you harder, each hit sending ripples of pleasure through you. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you press closer to him. He hits that spot inside of you that only he can reach and the stars that dot your vision aren't from the sky above you. 

"Yes, oh, fuck. Jake!" He finds it again and your muscles clench. "I'm going to come," you gasp, and Jake's answering groan lets you know that he's close, too. 

"Come for me, darlin'," he chants, his voice low and raspy, commanding you to give in to the feeling. 

His words send you over the edge, and your scream of his name is cut off with his mouth surging to meet yours - you had nearly forgotten that you were outside. Your orgasm ripples through you, your body trembling under the waves of pleasure. You feel him give one, two, three more thrusts before he’s falling over, too. His cum is hot as it fills you and you can’t help but moan into his kiss at the sensation - there was nothing quite like it.

He pulls back once breathing becomes an issue. You're both panting and breathless. He takes your face in his hands, the roughness of his fingertips a long-formed comfort. You just stare for a few moments, letting your heart rates settle. 

"Hell of a way to end the year," he finally murmurs, voice filled with warm affection. 

You can't pass up the opportunity he's given you considering the current circumstances, raising an eyebrow playfully. "With your cum inside of me?" 

He huffs out a laugh, but you feel his cock twitch inside of you nonetheless. “The best way to do it.” 

You hum in response and grab his wrist, twisting it to get a look at his watch. 11:52. 

"If we hurry we can probably make it back to the Hard Deck in time for midnight," you tell him, though you're in no rush to move. Jake shrugs a shoulder, and it's enough to tell you that he isn't, either. You smile at him softly, leaning forward for another kiss. After another minute or two, you gently disentangle yourself from each other. Jake tucks himself back into his pants as you pull your skirt down. The raised wooden structure is really not comfortable for either of you now that you weren't completely caught up in your lust. He climbs down from the chair first and keeps a protective hand on you as you make your way down after him. 

Instead of moving to walk back to the bar, though, you settle together in the sand. Your back is to his chest and his arms are wrapped firmly around you. His chin is tucked into your shoulder and you watch the waves gently lapping in the ocean as you sit in a peaceful, comforting silence. 

“Any resolutions this year?” he eventually asks. You feel his breath against your neck and goosebumps erupt over your skin. You hope you never stop reacting to him this way. 

“Hmmm. None yet. You?”

“Already did it,” he says nonchalantly. Your eyebrows furrow and your twist your neck to look at him. 

“What?”

His smirk grows and his green eyes twinkle with mischief. “Guarantee myself on the naughty list for Santa next year, obviously.” 

You smack his arm right as the fireworks start going off, and his laughter is masked by the sound. There are bursts of every color you could imagine appearing in the sky, and you let yourself get distracted by the display until your husband nudges you gently. 

When your eyes meet his this time, the look on his face is softer. It’s a look he only ever has for you, full of love and adoration, and despite how long you’ve been together, you feel butterflies erupt in your tummy as it washes over you. He tilts your chin up with a gentle hand. It’s the sweetest kiss you had exchanged all night, nothing more than a light brush of his lips against yours. Your nose brushes against his as, for a moment, you just breathe the other in. 

“Happy New Year, darlin’,” Jake finally whispers, and his words taste sweet against your lips. 

“Happy New Year, Jake.” 

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Notes: Happy (almost) New Year everyone! Finishing off the trifecta of holiday fics with The Blonde One™️ just felt right. Thanks for reading! Likes/comments/reblogs are the kindest.

Special thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all of their help as always, and for Mak for making the dreamiest banners.

Main Masterlist

[seresinhangmanjake]

Oh, Baby

Dad!Jake Seresin x female reader

Summary: You might not have been his girlfriend, but when you left town one night a month after sleeping together, it completely broke Jake's heart. Now, a year later, you've returned and you're not alone. You have a new little companion that just so happens to bear a startling resemblance to Jake. 

Warnings/notes: its mostly fluffy. cursing, i think. mention of pregnancy. that might be it. 

Words: 2900

Oh, Baby Masterlist / Masterlist

His Girls (Following Part)

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Staring is rude; that’s what his mama told him. That, and a handful of other little rules that didn’t fit the bill of ‘gentleman.' But he couldn’t recall a single one of them now. His mind was occupied and nothing else mattered. Maybe nothing else ever would. So he let himself stare.

You smiled and the air got trapped in his lungs for a moment before it decided to fight for freedom by way of harsh, sharp bursts. If his coughing drew the attention of others, he didn’t notice. It didn’t draw yours, and that was for the best. He needed another second to breathe; to watch your face light up under the influence of the infant in your arms. 

Two months old, that’s what Rooster had told him. 

You’d left town one night, leaving no note, no means of contact except through your parents who texted Rooster every once in a while to let him know you were Ok, but never to tell him where you were. Maybe they didn’t know either. Then, according to Rooster, you showed up at his door with a bag, a smile of apology, and a two-month-old baby cradled in a wrap around your chest. 

Jake didn’t know what to do with that. He didn’t know how to process what you’d brought with you, or why you went to Rooster instead of him. Maybe one more thing that didn’t matter at the end of the day. As it was, everything in front of him was too much to handle. 

“I don’t want to overstep,” Rooster said through the phone. His call had woken Jake, but the anxiety in Rooster’s tone cleared any grogginess faster than a cup of coffee. “Did you and Y/N ever…?”

Jake swallowed and sat up a little straighter in bed, running a hand down his face. Everyone had guessed there had been something going on between you and him. Everyone assumed that even if there wasn’t, if they were wrong, eventually the two of you would get there. You’d figure it out because it seemed inevitable. Jake had always hoped they were right. He’d pined for painfully long, and while it seemed like you felt something for him too, he wasn’t going to move until you did. And then you did. 

It was simple, really. He thought there would be something more complex to the two of you finding your way into bed together, but it was so easy. So natural. Simple and easy and natural enough for you to seek him out three more times before you disappeared from his life, breaking a part of him as you did. 

“Why do you ask?” Jake said. 

“Um—fuck.” It was a soft curse from his friend’s mouth, just barely detectable through the speaker. But it carried a heavy weight with it that Rooster’s voice alone did not. “Are you sitting down?”

“Yea.”

“Good.”

The seconds passing were nearly as painful as the day you left—that moment he realized you were no longer in his bed. He’d called everyone. No one had an answer for him. “Rooster, what the fuck is going on?”

He sighed, which was never good. Rooster wasn’t much of the sighing type. Sighing meant thinking. And he wasn’t much of the thinking type anymore, either. Hadn’t been since Mav had knocked that behavior out of him while he was in the air. That new mentality just so happened to carry into the rest of his life, and he lived in a world of impulsivity. Don’t think, just do. It was the exact same with his words. Rooster only ever spoke his mind, didn’t hold back, didn’t hesitate, and yet now he was.

“She’s back, Jake," he finally said. "Showed up last night.”

His heart stopped beating. He felt it seize in his chest. And then it began again, starting with incredible force and livening his entire body. 

“But, um…that’s not all,” Rooster continued. “She’s got a baby with her, and—” His breath was shaky, matching Jake’s hands. “Alright, I’m just going to say it—the kid looks exactly like you, Seresin. Spitting fucking image. Now, if you two never got together then I’ll chalk it up to a wild coincidence, but if you did…” He paused. “If you did, I think you need to get over here.”

Jake had never run so fast in his life, never driven so recklessly, never stormed through the front door of someone’s home the way he did Rooster’s, but how could he not? 

“Where is she?”

Rooster shot to his feet from his spot on the couch. “At the store. She took the kid with her. We should probably wait—”

“The one down the street?”

“Yea, but—what are you doing?”

He was already at the door, the knob squeezed viciously in his grip. “I have to see for myself,” Jake said. “I won’t ambush her. I’ll keep my distance, but I have to see.”

And he saw…everything. The woman he loved, casually walking up and down the aisles of the grocery store, looking at labels and deciding on brands and placing things in a cart, with his baby strapped to her chest. 

And that was his baby. He knew the moment he saw the eyes that were his, just smaller and on a face full of features that were also his, save for the curve of the lips that belonged entirely to you. Had his mother been by his side, she might’ve stumbled back from how similar this baby looked to her own. He would have too had his feet not been stuck to the floor. 

Every bit of him was holding back from reaching for you as his instincts demanded of him, but he had to move before you saw him. You could turn your head at any moment. So he had to go. 

—--

“When did you even…I mean, everyone always figured you would…but…when?”

Jake lifted his head from where it was resting over the back of the couch. “About a month before she left. A few times.”

Rooster nodded. “She’ll be back soon. Are you sure you want to do this now?”

“I–”

As if on cue, the front door opened and you stepped through with a bag of groceries in each hand, one of which fell when your eyes met Jake’s. Little jars rolled across the floor, making the only sound in the otherwise dead silence of the room. His lips parted, but nothing could slip out of them, nothing that would make reasonable sense, anyway. His mind was too much of a jumbled mess.

The baby broke the tension, its little wiggle causing you to glance down at the tiny head resting against your chest. You set the other bag down and took an immediate turn to the left through another door that Jake knew led to Rooster’s guest room. You returned a moment later, without the baby, your arms crossed in front of you as you walked toward him. 

He thought he would be mad; maybe betrayed; at the very least bitter and devastated, but all he wanted was to pull you to him and hold you and kiss you and thank whatever deity necessary for returning you to him. 

“You couldn’t have kept it to yourself for a little?”

He didn’t know what you meant until he realized you were looking directly at Rooster. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Rooster replied. He nudged his head Jake’s way. “He was a fucking mess when you left, and it’s so obvious that the kid is—” He paused when your eyes fell to the wooden flooring. “I’m sorry. I’ll give you two some space.”

Jake waited until his friend was gone before he dared to take a step your way, but he stopped short at the hand you held up. 

“Y/N…”

“I don’t want to argue with you,” you said. “I’m not going to get into why I did what I did other than to say that I thought it was best for you, me, and her.” Your arms fully uncrossed and one hand began to pick at the other’s fingernail. “At the time, anyway.”

“She’s mine.” It wasn’t a question. He knew it. He knew it in his soul that the little girl in the next room belonged to him as much as she did you. But still, he needed to hear you say it; needed to watch the shape of your lips form the words. 

You nodded. “She’s yours.”

“And were you going to tell me?”

“I came back to tell you,” you said without a lick of hesitation in your voice; something that made him feel a bit lighter. “I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it yet, but I didn’t want her to wake up one day and start asking me fair questions that I only had unfair answers to. I couldn’t imagine telling her that her father had no idea she existed. So,” you took a deep breath, “I figured I’d see if you might want her, too.”

If. He could’ve laughed under different circumstances. If he wanted his daughter? There was nothing to mull over or consider. Of course, he wanted his daughter. Her and you, if you’d have him. But he couldn’t press that now. 

“What’s her name?”

“My family calls her Evy, but it’s Eve.”

“After my grandmother?”

“She was always nice to me when she would come to town, and I know you love her.” Your shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, but he knew there was nothing nonchalant about it. It was a deliberate choice, a careful choice. You could’ve named her anything under the sun. You could’ve named her after your own family, but you didn’t. “I wanted our daughter to have something of you other than just your DNA.”

The weight was back. A heaviness in the air from the beauty of what you’d just confessed mixed with the undeniable question of What now? He wasn’t going to push you. You were in complete control, always had been. Control over him, over what happened between you, over the future he had once hoped you may share—the future he thought was lost, but maybe could now be found. 

“Do you want to see her?”

His eyes widened, a confusing emotion filling his heart. He wasn’t sure you would offer, and giving him that chance swelled the love he felt for you. But more than that, adding to the confusing feeling was the hopeful note in your tone. Did you imagine he might deny you? Did you think he’d turn his child away?

“Yes,” he said with absolute surety, and by the grin you gave in return, he knew you felt his sincerity. 

You turned, leading him into the room he’d spent a drunk night or two in. A room in which he’d woken up insanely hungover and begging for the sun to die just to give him some relief. The irony. He silently snickered. You moved aside, facing him as he took in the sight before him. 

Your baby—his baby—laid on her back in the small travel crib, her eyes closed and body wrapped up snuggly in one of those sleep wraps he saw his sister use on her son. Her delicate face was so peaceful. Her long lashes rested on plump, rosy cheeks. Her lips were parted the slightest, the sweetest breaths making the softest of sounds. Her dusting of blond hair reflected the slim ray of sunlight sneaking through the drawn curtains turning the strands into pure gold.

Unshed tears stung the corners of his eyes. 

“You can hold her if you want.”

“She’s—she’s asleep. I can’t—”

“She’s a heavy sleeper,” you said. “Honestly, the best baby, Jake.”

Of course, she is, he thought. If she was anything like you, she’d be perfect. She was already perfect. 

Reaching into the crib, you carefully grabbed the baby and held her out to Jake. He’d held a baby before, plenty of times, but something about holding his own…he couldn’t describe it fully, just that it made his nerves fire off. His fingers began to twitch, but when he looked at you, he saw the familiar glassiness coating your irises and you nodded in encouragement. 

That was all he needed: the mother of his baby asking him to hold their daughter. So he did, extending his arms and gratefully accepting his little gift. 

She was so small. His hands and arms and chest dwarfed her compared to how she looked against your body. Up close, she was porcelain in form, fragile and light, and he would surrender his every breathing moment to protect what you and he had made. 

A soft sob echoed in his ear and Jake’s head shot up to see those tears had fallen, crafting rivers down your cheeks as your hand covered your mouth. 

“I’m sorry.” The apology was muffled through your fingers. You shook your head and finally dropped your hand. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t think—I didn’t think I would ever see this.”

With the hand not cradling his child, Jake cupped your cheek, smoothing your tears back into your skin with his thumb. You leaned into his touch and he suppressed a gasp. The first time in a year that he’d felt you, and it was like coming home. He’d missed everything about you, every ounce of your being and presence. He missed your scent filling the air: the vanilla perfume, the fruity shampoo, the minty chapstick that he’d pick up right when he was about to kiss you. All of it. Everything. And now you were here, and he wouldn’t be able to let go.

“Why did you leave me?” he whispered. 

“We had only slept together a few times,” you sniffled. “Doctor said I got pregnant that first time. Good on us for using a condom, right?”

He chuckled half-heartedly. Neither of you had one on you that night, and foolishly, neither of you cared. Pent-up desperation took over, and being inside of you, feeling you, became his sole need. Nothing short of you shoving him away could have stopped him. 

“Anyway, this wasn’t in your plans,” you said. “And I didn’t want to force it on you, but I also didn’t want to give her up. It scared me, so…”

“I would’ve helped you. I loved you. I’d been in love with you. I would’ve—”

“You loved me?”

Oh. He hadn’t planned on saying it. Certainly not now. Before you left, he’d hoped you already knew somehow. Then you were gone and he was sure the opportunity to tell you would never be within reach again. But, intentionally or not, you just presented him with a moment for the words to fall right out of his mouth, so they did. 

“Well…yea,” he said. “You could’ve told me you wanted a baby and I would’ve given you one.”

Your eyes shifted from his and you stared into the blank space next to his head, like your brain had short-circuited and your whole world was flashing before your eyes. You took a wobbly step back and dropped to sit on the edge of the mattress. Jake gave another long look at his daughter before kissing her forehead and placing her back in the crib. 

Kneeling in front of you, he said, “I still love you.” When you didn’t speak, he grasped your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. “I love you, and I already love our daughter. And I want you to stay. I need you to stay with me.”

He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Only you had that effect on him and he couldn’t say that he didn’t once hate it. It drove him insane for ages. He would simply think about you and the beating would start. That thumping would keep him awake at night, distract him at work, drown out the voices of his coworkers, but he accepted it now. It was an indicator of what he felt for you and that was too real and honest and beautiful to be bothered by. 

Finally, your fingers squeezed his back. A sign, small as it was, that you were understanding. 

“Look at me,” he whispered, and you did. He smiled as he peeled his fingers away from yours to frame your face between his hands. His thumbs ran along your cheekbones, then he leaned in a little closer. “Come here.” Another whisper, a bit broken on the final syllable. 

You didn’t protest when he pulled your face to his. You didn’t push him back when hot breaths caressed each other's mouths. Your fingers loosely fisted the collar of his shirt and you let his lips brush over yours in a gentle kiss.

And that was it. You were it. You had always been it for him. He knew it then, and he knew it now. But he didn’t want to overwhelm you. 

He pulled back a few inches to grant you some space, but your mouth chased after his, your hands sliding into his hair and holding him so you could force your lips together again. Harder, hotter, more desperate. You’d missed him, too. It was undeniable now. 

“Promise me, honey,” He said when you separated to breathe. "I can't lose you. Not again."

“I promise, Jake.” Your eyelids fell closed and you rested your forehead against his. “We’re not leaving you.”

------

tags: @thespeeder @nobody7102 @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​ @sometimesicryintheshower​ @cookielovesbook-akie​ @yanna-banana​ @taylahk109​ @buxkybarnez​ @elijahmikaelsonbitch​ @ravenhood2792​ @potato-girl99981​ @eccentricnos​ @kembry107​ @pono-pura-vida​ @topguncultleader​ @v0id-chaos​ @scrappybear89​ @stiles-banshees​ @audri_janis @caidi-paris @jake-seresins-girl @sass-masterkittenmama​

[frost-queen]

Business wreckage // part 3 (Reader x Jake Seresin)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex--awesome--22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @vermillionwinter , @love2write2626 , @magical-spit , @slythetic , @p0nycurtis , @djs8891 , @hookslove1592 , @thedonswife13

Summary: The aftermatch of his actions are still very active. His father asking for updates on his matters, hoping it would settle soon. As the days increase of your stay-in, the more you doubt how long you would handle Jake's teasing and boyish mindset. [ series]

Jake's eyes wandered to your lips with curiosity. Your gaze half in shock as it was clear where he was staring at. Already feeling a warmth creep up in your cheeks. Knowing you would burst into flames if he kept staring at you, you gave him a little shove. Jake's chest moved back, fluttering with his eyelashes to snap him back to reality. - "Go to bed." - you ordered him as this was no good position to sleep.

Jake wiped his hand down his face, trying to supress a yawn. - "I...I still have a few lines to do." - he said picking up his pen to read his last written lines. You took the pen from him, laying it down. - "Not for tonight." - you pressed on. Jake already yawned as you nudged him to get up. He pushed himself up, yawning again. You came walking behind him.

Jake started to sway towards the wrong room as you interfered. - "Sir!" - you called out, taking a hold of his arm and back. - "This way sir." - you said guiding him to his room. You flicked the lights on as it made him groan loud at the sudden brightness. He nearly stumbled to his bed with your help. Jake flopped onto the bed without a care. His legs still hanging out of the bed. Sighing soft, you took his shoes off. Helping his feet onto the bed.

Jake laid himself better, his eyes already closed. You started pulling at the covers underneath him to tuck him in. Using all your might to shove him a bit aside and pull at the blanket. He went along with the movements till you were able to free his blanket from underneath him. - "Goodnight sir." - you whispered laying the blanket over him. Jake didn't respond already off. You turned the lights off before leaving.

Returning to the kitchen, you waited, staring at the counter. His letter clear on the table. Taking a deep sigh, you walked over to it. Coming to sit in his previous seat to read it. Pen between your fingers. It was formal with words you knew he'd never use daily. It was written in the way it would please his father, like he had always been taught. Knowing what words or apology would please his father.

The note not even close to his heart. Exhaling soft, you placed the note down. A moment later you phone beeped. Making you take it out and see who has texted it. Mister Seresin, his father. Swallowing deep, you opened the text. He wanted to know how his son was doing and if he regretted his actions yet. You were unsure what to answer, feeling caught in between.

You knew you needed to be honest with him. But you also felt for Jake. How his father's view on the empire was pressuring him when it was clear he didn't want to take over. He didn't want to waste his time behind a desk. He wanted to fly, be free and have a purpose in life. You also understood why Mister Seresin pressured for him to take over. He was his only son and flying always had risks. You guessed he just wanted to make sure his son would not be harmed.

To rather have him have a save and secured job than a reckless one as flying for Top Gun. Besides who else would take over the empire if not his son. He needed an heir and the only one, didn't even want it. It felt too complicated to be mixed up between them. But you were the bridge between their relationship. Trying to keep both parties as happy as possible.

You texted him back that he was doing alright and that you were working on it. Which wasn't entirely a lie. You then checked the socials one last time. Seeing how people still commented on his behavior underneath photo's of him. They called his behavior snobby and outrageous. Calling him out for ruining the restaurant.

Checking your mails, you sighed soft at their reply's. All going with: due to last events, we are declining any partnership until further notice. A lot of his appointments canceled as no one wanted their business or name be associated with such drama. His shedule was emptying and you had no idea if his reputation could still be mended. Unable to look at it anymore, you shut your phone off. Heading for bed as you couldn't take another thought about it.

He filled his cup with coffee. Turning round, he blew gently on it. His gaze falling on the untouched toast on your plate. He leaned forwards pushing it closer to you. It made you quirk your eyebrow up. - "You're not eating Y/n." - he pointed out. - "Not that hungry." - you replied. Jake curled up a teasing smile. - "If you faint, i'll have to give you mouth to mouth breathing. I have a lisence for it." - he finished with a wink.

The next morning, you were the first one up. Sitting at the counter with your tablet as your toast laid untouched on the plate. Jake entered the room ten minutes later yawning loud and scratching the back of his head. - "Morning Y/n." - he said going to take out a cup. - "Morning sir." - you replied as he seemed to have forgotten about last night. About how visibly he was staring at your lips with the most googly eyes ever. Or he just decided to ignore it.

Your eyes widened hoping you weren't showing him any hints of bashfulness. Quickly taking the toast, you bit a large part of it. - "Good girl." - Jake teased making you shoot him a glare. - "Now where is that letter of mine." - he sighed out, looking around. - "No need to work further on it." - you told him. - "How so?" - he asked confused. - "At least not today." - you specified with a smile.

"I see." - Jake answered. - "Know it doesn't mean I'm letting you off the hook." - you called out to him. Jake started chuckling. - "I was wondering when the battering was coming." - he replied looking all smug. He set his cup down, pressing his hands on the counter, leaning forwards. - "So what's on the agenda today?" - he asked making you look curious at him.

Noticing how dependable he was on you orchestrating his activities. - "You are free to do what you like. I'm not giving you any requirements today." - you responded feeling a bit guilty at how strict you had been keeping him. All in the name of his father. Jake hummed curious. - "Does that mean you are free as well?" - he questioned looking up. It made you look up surprised from your tablet.

"I have work to do." - you told him. Jake puffed loud at the workaholic you were. - "Work that can wait." - he reminded you pushing your tablet down. You shot him a glare only making him smile more teasingly at you. - "What do you even want to do with me." - you asked knowing you had just given him a clear shot to tease you. He already started smirking.

Knowing that mind of his was full of boyish intentions. You sighed loud gesturing at how to spit it out. Jake kept his mouth closed, crossing his arms. - "Go on, tease me. Laugh at your own silly comments towards me." - you told him. Jake remained silent. - "I'm not going to tease you." - he answered. - "You are not?" - you replied in shock. Jake shaking his head. - "The flush on your cheeks says enough." - he pointed out making you touch your cheeks if they had burned up.

Jake laughing loud afterwards as you managed to still fall into his trap. Jake and you went for a walk around the house. Went into town for some supplies. You cleaned around the house as Jake was busy outside. When the evening was falling, you decided to make him a cup of coffee. You found Jake by the car, working on it. - "Sir." - you called out to catch his attention.

He sat up straight, cleaning his hands on a cloth. You offered him the coffee as he accepted it. - "Suprised I can work on a car?" - he asked with a tease. - "No." - you replied knowing well enough he needed to maintain his F16 at Top Gun as well. He gestured for you to take a seat if you wanted to. You kept him company, looking up at the darkening sky.

Jake's phone beeped beside you. You didn't mean too, but you looked at the lit up screen, seeing it was a girl texting him. - "You got a text." - you told him as he moved his head from under the hood. He reached his hand out for you to give him the phone.

You watched as Jake smiled briefly, quick to respond to it. - "One of your many flirts?" - you asked him with a tease. Jake turned to look at you. An intruisive thought crossing his mind. - "Do you even have a life beyond this?" - he wanted to know.

"You are my life." - you responded all too quickly. Realizing too late what you had said, you got up. Running back inside with a head full of shame. What must he think now of you. Pathetic was the least how you wanted him to see you.

----------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[mynameismckenziemae]

hello!! i was wondering if you could write a sub!jake seresin x reader smut where he was being naughty during a night out, and he needs to be punished when he gets home? (mommy or ma’am as names preferably) you have total creative freedom with this and of course you don’t have to do this, but i love your work and you write sub!jake better than anyone i’ve seen ☺️💞

I…have no words. Dirty smut below the cut 👇🏻✂️

MDNI!

It had been a busy week. Between your crazy schedule and Jake’s, you had hardly seen each other, and unfortunately hadn’t had time for more intimacy than a quick kiss goodbye in the mornings. So maybe it was your fault Jake was acting out Friday night at the Hard Deck.

It started innocently enough. Jake would slide his hand in the back pocket of your jeans to squeeze your butt while you bent over to shoot pool, finish your drink (that he paid for) when it was your turn at darts, changing the song on the jukebox every time Rooster turned one on. But all was quickly forgotten when he gave you that cheeky little grin.

“What’s he up to?” Nat asks, catching on to your exchanges, “no good?”

You hum in agreement as you both watch him walk towards the bar.

Your attention shifts when as she talks about the new recruits that started this week…and how much of an asshole Jake had been to them.

“…In his defense, they are kind of stupid,” she laughs, as she takes the pool cue offered from Bob to sink the 8 ball, “but I think he forgets he was green once too, ya know?”

“He does,” you agree with a sigh, leaving out that he’s wound tight from nearly a week with no sex.

Your phone buzzes a moment later and the video attached from Jake has you choking on your drink.

He’s jerking himself with fast, determined strokes in one of the bathroom stalls.

You: Don’t you dare cum.

He reads your message as soon as you send it but his reply doesn’t come until a few minutes later, instantly making you realize what he’s been asking for all night by pushing your buttons.

Jake: Too late

Attached is picture of the evidence. His fist coated in cum.

A wave of heat washes over you before settling between your thighs.

You: We’re leaving. Now.

“I think we’re gonna head out,” you say casually as you put your phone back in your pocket.

“Yep, he’s up to no good,” Nat says to herself with a smile in her voice as you walk towards the bathrooms.

The squad had quickly caught on that by complaining to you about Jake will get his attitude adjusted. How it gets adjusted stays between the two of you.

.•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•.

“Give me your keys,” you say as walk out the back door, “I’m driving.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replies with a grin, dropping them into your outstretched hand.

“Smile all you want,” you tell him as you get in the driver’s seat, “you won’t be by the end of the night.”

“Whatever you say,” he chuckles as he fastens his seatbelt.

He has no idea what you have in store from him.

.•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•.

You bite the inside of your cheek to not smile as Jake begins to fidget when you don’t say a word on the ride back to your shared home. The closer you get, the antsier he gets; you can almost hear the turmoil inside him as he regrets his actions while anticipating the consequences.

“Go upstairs, and get naked,” you say quietly as you turn off the truck, “I’ll be up in a few minutes. I expect you to be standing with your nose in the corner when I get there.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says, finally accepting his fate.

.•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•.

Already wearing his favorite lingerie, you strip off your clothes in the laundry room before slowly climbing the stairs.

He’s doing exactly as you asked; his feet shoulder-width apart as he stands in the corner like a scolded little boy. His hands are folded above his taut butt and the muscles above in his back tense when he hears you enter the room.

“Why are you in the corner, Jake?” You ask, trailing your fingertips down his back.

“Because I came after you told me not to,” he answers.

“Mhmm, and?” You prompt as you pinch each tight buttcheek.

“I-uh…I kept changing Rooster’s songs?” He guesses.

“That too,” you agree, “to be honest, Roo’s taste of music is questionable. What else?”

“Ah,“ he nods as he remembers, “I finished your drink when you were up at darts.”

“Yes, but you’re still missing something.”

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t remember,” he says after thinking a moment and sucks in a breath when your hand slaps his ass.

“A little bird told me you were being an ass to the new recruits this week,” you say, slapping the other side.

“Fucking Phoenix,” he mutters as his head drops forward, hissing when you spank him again on each side until his skin is pink and warm.

“Can’t even take responsibility for your own actions,” you sigh as you turn to your bedside drawer.

He jumps at the click of the lube being opened and you smile as you step back to him. A quick look down shows he’s hard and dripping precum onto the floor.

“Hold yourself open,” you tap his ass with your clean hand.

He whimpers in humiliation but obeys, gasping when your cold finger begins to circle his hole. When he relaxes, you ease a finger in.

A groan leaves him when you add a second finger and brush his prostate; bumping it every so often as you pump your fingers to keep him on his toes.

He sighs in relief when you pull your fingers out. But it’s in vain, because a plug quickly replaces it.

“Fuckkkk,” he whines in a high pitch when you turn on the vibration on low.

“Put your hands back to where they were,” you murmur, kissing between his shoulder blades before you walk away.

You pick up Jake’s leather belt from his dresser on the way back to the bedroom after washing your hands.

You loop it around your hand and slap it against your palm, smiling at the way he flinches.

“I’m sorry ma’am, not the belt,” he begs, as if he isn’t dying to feel the bite of the leather, “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Too late,” you repeat the words from his text back to him, “how many recruits are in this class?”

“12, ma’am.”

“That’s a good number,” you say, “assume the position, Jake.”

He shudders before putting his hands out in front of him on the wall before arching his back to present your target; his ass.

“Count out loud and thank me for each one,” you order, running your fingertips down his spine and making him keen when you nudge the plug before taking a step back.

The snap of leather meeting skin followed by Jake’s moan brings your simmering arousal to a boil.

“One, thank you ma’am.”

Fuck that’s hot.

The next one lands directly below the first welt.

“Two, thank you ma’am.”

You’re breathing hard by the time you’re done painting the left cheek red with four more slaps; he is too. His ass clenches as his hips thrust in search of any type of friction.

You shift to the right to start on the right.

“S-six,” he stutters, “thank you ma’am.”

The temptation to touch yourself worsens with each lash. Jake’s not doing any better; his toes are curling and his hands clench into fists against the wall.

“Last one,” you pant before bringing the belt down a final time.

“Twelve!” It’s a broken shout, “thank you, ma’am.”

You drop the belt and step forward to grip his fiery-red, burning skin in each hand and squeeze.

“Learn your lesson yet?” You breathe, kissing his trembling back.

“Yes ma’am,” he pleads, “let me show you how good I can be.”

“…soon,” you murmur, smiling at his frustrated cry before sneaking under his outstretched arms so you’re between him and the wall. You’d be trapped if you weren’t in control.

“Watch me,” you whisper, leaning forward to brush his lips with yours. His expression is desperate and hungry.

A drop of precum lands on your feet and he moans just as you do at the first brush of your fingers to your clit.

Your eyes don’t leave his as you pleasure yourself and when you’re on the knifes edge, you reach out.

“Wa-wait, wanna cum inside you-“ he protests but your grip tightens as you find your release with a soft cry and he cums too, painting your stomach white.

“You’re not off the hook yet,” you murmur lazily, trailing wet fingers from your release through the mess he made before bringing them to his lips, “if you want to cum inside me, you’ve gotta earn it.”

.•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•.

[ohtobeleah]

California Fornication //

Two — ‘Odds Are?’

Summary: In the wake of Roosters belligerent act of violence, you try your best to remain calm. But if anything Jake Seresin showing up in North Island is only just the beginning of a whirlwind shit show.

Warnings: Mentions of cheating. Love Triangle x2. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Jake Seresin xF!reader. Question ing Morality. Angst.

Word Count: 2.7k

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“I lied—“ You could remember it all too well, the moment you felt at your weakest. Your most vulnerable. “I’m not out of this relationship.” A week ago your entire world had come crashing down when the man you loved turned out to be married. You’d told him you were out. Point blank, end of discussion. But you weren’t.

“Siren—“ Bradley sighed as he looked over your shoulder to where his wife stood watching the interaction unfold from the veranda of the Hard Deck. “We can’t, not here.” 

“I’m in.” You didn’t care that she was watching, you needed to get this off your chest. “I’m so in it’s humiliating because here I am begging.” 

“Y/n—“ Bradley tried to interrupt but you held your finger up. Stopping him from saying anything more.

“Shut up, you say Y/n and I yell remember so why don’t we skip the yelling and I just tell you how I really feel?” 

“Yeah—“ Bradley sighed as he pocketed his car keys. “Yeah okay.” You took a breath in and exhaled slowly. Ready to wear your heart on your sleeve. 

“Here it is.” You tried your best to remain as calm as you could. “Here’s your choice, Rooster.” It was just you and Bradley, out by his Bronco under the festoon lights that lit up the car park of the Hard Deck. “Your choice? It’s simple—her, or me.” It was clear cut and dry. No one way around the fact. “And I’m sure she’s really great, but Bradley I love you.” 

It wasn’t the first time you’d said it without Rooster saying it back. You just thought he needed more time, but as it turned out he was already married. Perhaps it was a good thing after all he’d never said it back. It would have hurt more to know he did than to wonder if he ever did at all. 

“I love you in a really really big—pretend to like your music kind of way.” You had to hold yourself together so that the tears welling in your eyes didn’t stream down your cheeks as you pleaded with the man who’d made you fall in love with him to choose you. “I love you in a let you have the last silence of cheesecake kind of way—a sit beside you pretending to be interested in learning how to play the piano unfortunate kind of way that makes me hate you, yet love you kind of way.” You admitted as Rooster just started at you with an unreadable expression. “So pick me, choose me, love me, please Bradley.”

The silence was as loud as it could have been. And in those silent seconds that passed. You knew. 

“I can’t, I’m married Y/n.” Five words were all it took for Bradley Bradshaw to rip your heart through your chest. “I’m sorry.” 

It was the hardest thing to hear, and yet it still played on repeat throughout your mind all day and all night. You just weren’t good enough. 

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

“What the hell is your problem!” 

“Eleven years!” Bradley hissed as you shoved him out of the Hard Deck and onto the front porch. “Eleven years we were married!” He rambled on as you watched Rooster place the makeshift ice pack Penny had made him over his knuckles. 

You stood leaning against the post by the stairs he’d just walked down—watching with your arms crossed over your chest as he paced up and down the sandy gravel pathway. 

“That means eleven sets of birthdays, Christmas’s and thanksgivings, Siren! Eleven wedding anniversaries!” It was clear that Bradley was enraged. “He doesn’t get to just show up again after what he did!” But it wasn’t all those memories that were tarnished by an affair that had made Bradley Bradshaw risk his career by breaking his hand on the jaw of the man who slept with his wife. 

No. 

It was the way he saw your eyes light up with a mischievous glint while you laughed with Hangman that had him making strides over to where you sat. 

Bradley wasn’t about to let Jake get his dirty hands all over you too. Fuck his marriage and fuck his wife. He’d made a mistake letting you go. Letting her back into his life when he’d just begun to heal. He should have chosen you. He loved you. Truly. But marriage still meant something to him. Enough at least to try just one more time. 

“Rooster, I’m not the person who you should be talking about this with, talk about it with your wife.” You sighed defeatedly, like you were still being strung along by an invisible string that connected your heart to his. All you wanted was to hold him. To feel his arms wrapped around you. To laugh with him again, to feel that warm warmth he brought to your life. But instead all you felt was a coldness, a temperature so cool it burned to the touch. Leaving you alone, forever the other woman. The mistress. 

Club of one. 

“Penny wants you to go home and sleep it off.” Katie groaned as she stomped out of the Hard Deck. She made no attempt to acknowledge your presence as she walked right past you and down the front steps. “How’s your hand?” She asked as you watched the clearly distressed couple argue. Wondering when the divorce papers would come flying out of Roosters back pocket. 

“What’s he doing here Kate?” Bradley growled. Her hand came to rub small circles against the small of Rooster's back. She helped to guide him over to where the Bronco was parked. Against his will—he moved. 

“How the hell should I know?” She replied sharply. “Please, let’s just go home and talk about this.” 

You didn’t stay out of the decking for much longer. You could hear the sound of Jake's nose cracking under the force of Roosters fist in your mind over and over again. Enough that you felt a little guilty for possibly being the reason he was gushing blood. 

“Where’s—?” You didn’t even need to say his name before Penny was gesturing over towards where the bathrooms were. With lips pressed into a fine line you nodded. “Thanks.” 

“He’s not all that bad of a guy.” She added before you could even begin to walk away. “I don’t know the full story but if I know Hangman it’s that under that thick layer of confidence, he’s just looking for a friend.” You listen with a small nod. Deciding you’d go check on the guy in case his septum was deviated. 

“Can I have a washcloth?” 

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

“Rooster and I always did have the same taste in women.” It wasn’t hard to get lost in the clear emerald skies of Jake Seresins eyes as he sat up on the bench next to the sink in the bathroom of the Hard Deck. 

“Excuse me?” You asked softly as you worked to clean the mix of dried and fresh blood from his face. Gently dabbing away at the mess that trickled down his face with the wet cloth Penny had given you. Soaked in warm water—standing between Jake's legs as they dangled over the edge of the bench. 

You’d found Jake staring at himself in the mirror, probably trying to figure out if his nose was broken or not. When you entered the bathroom he was honestly surprised to see you. He thought for sure Rooster would have thrown you over his shoulder and taken you home. 

But it wouldn’t be the first time Jake was wrong about his best friend. 

“You’re Rooster's lusty Wingwoman right?” Jake asked as his eyes drank you in. Watching as you carefully studied every line, every little imperfect blemish on his face. He was beautiful. “I heard about you all the way out on the Pacific.” He explained. “You’re famous.” You couldn’t help the smile that crept across your face. “The thorn in the side of the Bradshaws rekindlement.” 

Huh, that was a new one. You hadn’t heard that one before. It was actually quite poetic. 

“Well, I’ve heard about you all the way back here in North Island so I guess we have a lot in common.” No one ever spoke about Jake. Not Payback or Phoenix or Bob even. They all just pretend like he never existed. That he’d committed an act of utter betrayal. It was only after Bradley’s wife had come back to town that he told you everything. 

It was easy enough to see who’s side in all this they’d all chosen. But it wasn’t easy to understand why no one told you until you’d already fallen head over heels for a married man. 

“We’re just the dirty mistresses.” Jake teased as you gently worked away at the blood on his face. Immediately he was addicted to your laugh, the way you lit up the entire room when you did so. “Isn’t that right sweetheart.” 

You couldn’t stop the heat from rushing to your cheeks at the term of endearment that slipped past Jake's lips. 

“I suppose we are Hangman, I suppose we are.” Jake was easy to be around, that was the first thing you made your mind up about. Sure, the whole questionable relationship with a married woman was still yet to be addressed but nevertheless. 

“My therapist says behind this rugged and confident exterior I’m— self destructive and self loathing to an almost pathological degree.” Jake grinned as you paused your movement, you held his head still in your cloth free hand in the comfortable silence that lingered for mere seconds.

“Hey, guess we do have a lot in common.” Why the hell did Bradley have to go and ruin such a pretty face? “Mine says the same thing.” Jake was thankful for your gentle touch, he was starting to think Rooster may have broken his nose. Only a trip to urgent care and time would tell. 

“You know it’s funny—“ Jake began as he watched you rinse out the blood stained cloth into the sink beside where he sat shirtless, blood stained the white T-shirt he’d once been wearing. “Bradshaw walks in on me naked with his wife, actually in the throws—“ You listened as you worked, running warm water over the cloth to not shock Jake's bruised and swollen skin when you went back to attending to his wounds. “And he just turns around and walks away.” 

You couldn’t imagine what that must have felt like. To watch two people you trust and love commit such an act of betrayal. You felt for Rooster, you did. But it didn’t change the fact he never told you until after his wife, Katie ‘South’ Bradshaw, was shaking your hand and labeling you the mistress in all this mess. 

Not to mention no one sold him out. Coyote, Fanyboy, even Bob had Bradley’s back. They kept his wife a secret. Kept his entire life a lie until it was unraveled before you in spectacular fashion. 

“But he so much as sees me talking to you? And I’m on the ground with a bloody broken nose.” Jake continued to explain what he thought was already the case. That Rooster was in love with you. Period. “Interesting, don't you think?” 

It didn’t require a engineering degree to put together what Jake was insinuating. 

“Doesn’t matter what Bradley thinks—he chose his wife, the woman he made vows to.” You’d decided in that moment you were done cleaning Jake's face but stayed standing between his legs. You made no attempt to remove his hands from where they had settled on your hips. “He doesn’t need to get defensive over who I choose to talk to, he doesn’t get to stake a claim when he’s married.”

“He might still be married but he’s not in love with her.” Jake sighed as he pulled you a little closer by your hips with just enough force to have you reaching out for stability. Your hands softly landed on his shoulders—the sudden sensation of your touch made Jake's skin prickle with Goosebumps. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked softly, intrigued by the chaos Jake seemed to bring with him. “Back in North Island?” Jake didn’t answer right away. He’d been too busy drinking in the expanse of your face. From the fine lines that littered your nose when you crinkled it to the way your eyes swirled like deep pools of hope and displeasure all in one. 

“I’m here for Katherine—“ Those four vulnerable words made you feel more understood than you ever had in the last few weeks. It felt like there wasn’t another soul alive that could relate to your situation. “Which is as dehumanising as it sounds but, she’s the reason I came back.” 

“You’re still in love with her?” You asked as you tried to access the swollen nose that Jake wore with regret. 

“You’re still in love with him.” Jake didn’t need to question it, he already knew it to be true. You didn’t look at someone the way you looked at Bradley even when you were trying your best to avoid the man at all costs. He knew that simply because he laid awake at night thinking about the woman he loved who’d kissed him the night her husband was in the hospital—laid up post Uranium mission. 

Jake should have stopped it, but he didn’t. He just felt lucky enough to be loved in the dark. In secret. Because no one ever loved Jake Seresin first. 

And even worse, Jake was still in love with the very woman who’d spun the narrative in her favour. That he’d been the one who initiated the affair. But it hadn’t been him. It was her. 

Ignorance is bliss so they say. So Jake kept his adultering mouth shut and let the lie run its course. Turns out little white lies do hurt. He lost his posting, his best friend, the woman he loved, everything. 

“She won’t choose you, you know.” You didn’t mean for it to sound so cold, so as you spoke you ran your fingers through his deep blonde locks. Bringing a touch starved man some solace. “Rooster isn’t the kind of guy you leave if you can help it.” And boy did Katie stick to her husband’s side like superglue. 

“Yeah—” The corner of Jake's mouth twitched as he thought to himself. Leaning into your comforting touch as his eyeline slowly faded into the tiles on the ground. “But what if you’re wrong?” He sighed deeply, still staring at the ground beside where you stood between his legs. “What if, just this once, life comes down on the side of the dirty mistresses?” 

Suddenly that club of yours, the one with only one member, had two members in total. The dirty mistresses club. Party of two. You and Jake Seresin. 

“Pretty unrealistic, don't you think Seresin?” You chuckled softly as your eyes lingered to Jake’s lips. Slightly parted and plump. His eyes caught yours when you looked back to him and he had to stop himself. He couldn’t—could he? Because what were the odds he’d ruin two of Bradley Bradshaw's relationships? “Us adultering whores never get what we want.” 

“What if we decided to change what we wanted?” Jake asked as he closed the gap left between the two of you. His hands worked to guide your hips closer to him and before you knew it? Your lips were pressed against his. 

It was heavenly. The way Jake's lips felt against yours. Supple and soft and full of lust. His hands worked to cup at your cheeks as you begged him for more. Slipping your tongue into his mouth as you carded your fingers through his blonde locks. It was everything and nothing all at the same time. 

No one held a claim on you, you were free to make your own dumb choices now. And as your hand slipped down between the pair of you to softly land against Jake's jean clad crotch? He groaned into your mouth and bit your bottom lip. 

“I don’t even want to think about the consequences of this.” Jake whispered into your mouth as you palmed him through his jeans. “I think he’ll actually kill me.” 

“So don’t think.” You replied as you sunk your teeth into his neck. “Just do me.” 

As it turned out, those odds seemed pretty fucking high.

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

[witchwyfe]

never be mine - jhs

I pairing: college jake ‘hangman’ seresin x female reader

I précis: you and jake have a little argument

I content/warnings: college au, roommates to lovers (that haven’t gotten past the roommates stage yet), mentions of food, mentions of eating, language, arguing, crying, slight angst, fluff

I word count: 1,156

I a/n: the roommate predicament my beloved<3

It’s your second date with the same guy—or it was. You’d gone out for a casual dinner and then went to Natasha’s apartment where you ended up in tears. 

“What happened?” She demanded. “I’ll kick his ass, oh my god.”

“No, no!” You exclaim through your tears. “He’s fine. He’s fine.” You shake your head. “I don’t even know why I went out with him though. He’s nice but I think we’re better as friends.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

And even though she doesn’t show it, Natasha knows exactly what you’re going to say. She could be upset, as your best friend, that you never told her about your feelings for Jake, but she knows that its hard and that you’ve also been trying to lie to yourself about said feelings.

“Jake.” You whisper. “He’s not Jake.”

“Oh, honey.” She simpers, pulling you into her arms. “I know.”

“You know?” 

She nods, patting your back. “Just like I know that he feels the same way.”

You scoff, a thick watery sound. 

“I’m serious. It’s obvious.”

Hours later, you’re coming back to your apartment. You’d considered staying at Natasha’s but would rather go home to your own place. Jake’s sitting on the couch when you walk in, sporting a frown that you’re not used to seeing. 

“Where were you?” He asks, southern accent sneaking into his words a little more than usual. It seems to do that when there’s more emotion in his words, but you don’t even stop to think about that right now. 

You’re in a foul mood already, a combination of crying, and trying to find a reason to tell this other guy that you won’t be seeing him again. Jake’s irritated expression just adds to it already and you find yourself rolling your eyes.

“Don’t see why it’s any of your business.” You scoff, sliding your shoes off and leaving them in the foyer just to piss him off. You know you aren’t being fair, but neither is he. 

“I just think it’s considerate to let your roommate know when you’ll be back.” He laughs humorlessly. “Forgive me for caring about your safety.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t tell you where I was. Didn’t know I had to, Dad.”

“Oh my god is it that hard to believe that someone cares about you?” He growls. “You don’t have to act like such a brat.”

“I’m not being a brat; you’re being a dick.” You spit. “I don’t have to tell you when I’ll be back. I don’t owe you anything.”

“I—,” He cuts himself off to sigh. “I know that.”  He adds in a much softer tone. “I just hadn’t seen you all day and I missed you.”

Your heartbeat picks up by a tenfold. “Well, you’re not my boyfriend Jake. Sometimes people don’t see each other all day, deal with it.”

“I know that. I just—” 

“And I don’t care if you missed me. That gives you no right to be rude to me.”

“I know! Jeez darlin’, I’m trying to apologize. His southern twang slips through a little more, once again. “I shouldn’t have lashed out at you, and it wasn’t fair of me. 

“You’re right it wasn’t fair.” You retort. “And don’t call me that.” You scoff, and with a sharp turn of your heel, you head for your bedroom, before he can see the fresh tears leaking down your face.

Jake watches you walk to your room, firmly shutting your door behind you. He sighs heavily, running a hand over his face. He feels like an asshole. He knows he has no right to question you about your whereabouts. Yes, the two of you consider each other a close friend, but you didn’t deserve his frustration. He hates to admit it to himself, but the thought of you on another date, especially one that evidently went so late, had him fuming, and an envy induced pit in his stomach. 

He hates seeing you upset, and you didn’t look happy when you walked in—before he spoke to you—so maybe your date didn’t go well. He selfishly hopes that it didn’t, but also the thought makes him sad for you. Roommates fight. Friends fight. Both of those are true, but that’s not what’s going on. Jake doesn’t give a shit how late you come back to the apartment. He does want you to be safe but the real thing that bothered him was that you were out on a date.

Both of you sleep terribly all night, but neither of you seeks out the other like you normally would. 

You have a minute. One beautiful, peaceful moment before everything from the night before comes crashing back into your memory. You dig the heels of your hands into your eyes and groan loudly. 

You blindly reach for your phone, bringing it to your face with a wince. It’s barely eight am and you hadn’t slept well—tossing and turning all night. 

A click of the power button on your phone tells you that you have two new messages—neither from Jake. 

One is from Natasha checking in, and the other from Brent, just affirming what you talked about last night—that you’re definitely better off as friends. 

You leave both not responded to for now and push yourself out of bed. A quiet travel into the kitchen informs you that your roommate is out, his keys missing from the hook by the door. 

You padder over to the coffee machine, and start brewing a pot, before pulling out a glass and a mug. Despite having forced him to try it with ice many, many times, Jake still prefers it hot and in a mug. 

You’re just swirling milk into his coffee when the front door swings open, Jake balancing a pink bakery box as well as his keys and phone.

“Hey.” You say quietly, busying yourself with pulling out a straw for your drink.

“Hi.”

After an awkward moment passes, you both speak at once.

“I don’t like when we fight.”

“I didn’t mean what I said.”

You smile despite yourself. “You go first.”

“I don’t like when we fight either.” He responds to your statement first, looking you in the eye. “And I know I was being unfair last night. I didn’t mean to upset you. I guess I’m just so used to us spending time together that it felt weird to not see you all day. I’m sorry for how I behaved.”

“Thank you.” You say genuinely. “I was overacting too. I was in a bad mood, and I should’ve just asked for space rather than getting short with you. Thank you for caring about me.”

“Of course.” He whispers.

“Are we okay now?” You wonder timidly. 

“Course we are darlin’.” He grins. “You want a donut?”

You nod. “Can I have a hug too.”

“Yeah, you can.”

© witchwyfe 2023. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

A cowboy like me

Oneshot. Enemies to lovers. Smut

Summary/ request: Can someone do a hangman imagine where him and reader are enemies/rivals and one day at the hard deck, she jokingly takes his cowboy hat and put it on, not knowing abt the rules, and the rules, and he knocks it off of her head angrily, cuz he doesn’t want ppl to thing they’re fcking, then she knows what the cowboy hat rules are, and she takes his hat again but this time he doesn’t get mad, or smthn like that. I just think hot rivals + smut the fluff.

wordcount:

listen to:

jake seresin masterlist

**coming soon**

[horseshoegirl]

Set Me Alight - Part 4: One Way Or Another

📜Midge... Don't....Don't... Ugh, never mind. She's going to do it anyway.

I had to split the chapter again! I didn't want to overwhelm the word count, so the banner I posted before will be used for the next one! Which will be posted within the next few days!

❗️+18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character (s), Short OFC, Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, Verbal fights, bullying, description of injury (A bruised wrist), camping, and pranks.

#4.4k

Part 3 | Masterlist | Part 5

The first rays of sunlight shining through the canvas of your tent are what stir you awake the following morning.

It’s a struggle to open your eyes with the aftermath of how much you cried yourself to sleep last night. The skin under your eyes and your eyelids simply ache, and you want to sink yourself down into the ground, never to be seen nor heard from again.

However, each gentle breeze caressing the side of your tent and each chirp of a nearby bird is slowly coaxing you out of your sleep. It seems peaceful, serene even. Like all was right in the world.

Then the first sharp throb of your wrist pulsed up your arm, and you were dragged back to the harsh reality of what was this fucking mistake of a trip.

Right. The fall. Your wrist. The two she-devils.

Seresin.

You can’t help but cringe as you cradle your wrist to your chest, willing each aching pulse to fuck off and go away. There was no way you’d be able to paint today or tomorrow. Maybe even the rest of the week. The realization stung so sharply you wanted to cry - you'd miss out on all the prime spots, the best angles and outlooks, even the waterfall today, all because the fucking asshole decided to scream, “Look out, there’s a bear!”

If there were ever a time for you to swear at the universe for the cruel joke it was playing on you, taking away your only solace and leaving you with nothing but anger, frustration and one Jake Seresin to put up with, you'd find the tallest mountain in the park and scream, "Go to hell."

You opened your eyes to the thought, staring at the corner of the roof of your tent. While you might not be able to hold a paintbrush, there were other things you could do to pass the time.

Eagerly sitting up and sliding your legs out of your sleeping bag, you reached for your clothes and quickly got changed, hoping no one else was up. If you had any chance at getting back at Jake for your predicament, you couldn't be seen doing it.

It had to be a prank. Something classy and of the same calibre he started, but enough to drive home the fact two could play at this game. And that you wouldn't resort to his level by injuring him - not that you could.

To your surprise, when you finally opened your tent, hoping to take in the morning air, you were treated to the sight of the map in its clear plastic bag and the silver compass placed directly on top, sitting on the ground in front of you. You had forgotten them completely last night in your haste to escape the chaos and embarrassment, and for a moment, you stood there, wondering who had done such a thing.

It was a small act of kindness, one that quieted your anger towards Jake for a moment.

Your mind raced through every person who could have done such a thing - Nat with her concern from last night. Bob's quiet kindness, perhaps Grace or Cora, both of whom had shown moments of empathy and understanding. Even Maybe Mickey, or Javy or Rueben, to make up for their girlfriend's behaviour.

The thought that it might have been Jake briefly flickered through your mind, but you quickly dismissed it. He sought out every opportunity to tease, provoke, and hurl insults at you when he could, and you felt stupid for even entertaining such a thought.

With a mixture of curiosity and gratitude, you made a mental note to find out who was responsible and thank them for the kind gesture.

Lifting your head, you took in a deep breath, the crisp morning air filling your lungs and the earthy scent of the woods filling your nose. Light filtered through the trees, and their leaves seemed to rustle with the breeze. Along with the birds, you could have sworn you heard a squirrel or chipmunk, too.

Something had to be wrong. The campsite was too quiet.

Unlike yesterday, when Jake woke everyone up with his crazy-ass antics, everyone was still content to be tucked safely into their sleeping bags. You looked around, half expecting to see him lurking about somewhere or about to stir up trouble.

While his tent had been left open, he was nowhere to be found.

The metaphorical light bulb went off above your head with the realization you had your chance to set up and cause some shit without ruining it for anyone else.

The smile that crossed your face at that thought alone could have rivalled even that of the Jokers.

Approaching the firepit, the memory of last night still fresh in your mind, you noticed Jake had already taken down the food cooler from the nearby tree. It sat next to the little stone monument, waiting for Bradley or Nat to start handing out everyone's food packs.

You checked over your shoulder once, then twice to see if the coast was clear, before kneeling down and carefully flipping open the lid. You searched each one until you came across Jake's and your own, pulling them out and placing them side by side.

The little bottle of sugar Jake had brought with him for his coffee was at the top of the bag. You smirked in glee, knowing Jake would have no idea you messed with his bag, given its easy position. The man was so anal about things, his hair, his outfits, he'd notice if it had somehow fallen to the bottom of his bag.

Then, you found what you wanted out of yours.

Your container of salt.

It was the only thing you could think of right now. Fuck with his coffee, or at least something that he could put into his coffee. It was cheap. It was harmless. Probably even childish. But considering he actively went out of his way yesterday to prevent you from having yours, this was fair game.

Grabbing a spare container from your bag, you quickly unscrewed the lid, pouring Jake's sugar out into the safety of the container before reaching for the salt. You worked as fast as you could with your injured hand, grimacing as you tried to prevent any grains from spilling over as you refilled Jake's bottle.

After pouring his sugar into your own bottle, you quickly tidied up, making sure there was no evidence of your impromptu switch. You stood up, wondering what else you could do with the time you had or if something as simple as that would be enough, at least for today.

But the sight of Jake's tent, left wide and open, was another opportunity you had to take advantage of... Right?

It wasn't like Jake to leave his tent open. It either meant he intended to come back right away, or he forgot he had even left it open. You looked to the trailhead, then to the general direction of the area the group had chosen as 'the bathroom.' Jake still hadn't made his grand appearance.

"You shouldn't,' the angel on your shoulder screamed.

"Do it," the devil on the other murmured.

Your feet carried you forward, and you hesitantly approached his tent as if you were about to be arrested for murder. Resting at the entrance was his fishing bag, and you kneeled, undoing the zipper just enough to peer inside.

There was a tackle box full of hooks, lures, and other small items—a couple of bobbers and sinkers, snap connectors and an extra fish gripper. There was a knife and even a roll of fishing line; you gave into the urge to pull them out the second you saw them.

The lack of his fishing rod indicated he had definitely gone off and found a body of water or pond to go and attempt to catch something. It made you anxious, knowing you were working on borrowed time. Without really thinking, you unsheathed the knife from its case, letting out a painful yelp, only to spin out some of the wire and cut a sizeable length of it against the ground.

What for? You had no idea. But you had time to think about that later. The possibilities of what you could do with something like a piece of wire out here in the wilderness were endless.

Your heart rate spiked when you heard voices coming from one of the tents, and you quickly tried to put everything back where you found it. You shoved the wire into your back pocket and accidentally popped open the tackle box as you jammed the knife back inside.

Your hand screamed at you, already pushed to its max, as you scrambled to carefully pick up the fallen hooks from within Jake's bag, already knowing you probably missed a couple. One caught on your bandage, and you didn't bother removing it as you snapped the lid shut and zipped up his bag.

Racing back to your tent, the zipper of Bob and Grace's tent was being pulled up. You skidded to a stop and kneeled next to the map, swearing softly to yourself as you grabbed the stowe-away hook and shoved it into the front pocket of your pants.

You could only hope Bob thought you were getting up and emerging from your tent for the first time this morning.

Bob stepped out, having seen nothing of your hasty retreat back to your tent, and offered you a soft "good morning' accompanied by a smile.

"Morning, Bob," you greeted him with a smile of your own, trying to calm your breathing. "Do you know who did this? I want to thank them."

Bob looked down to where you were pointing and shook his head. "Sorry, Maeve. I didn't see who. It was there when Grace and I went to bed last night, though."

Not Bob. Or Grace. Hmm.

With nothing else better to do, you offered to help Bob start the campfire while Grace got ready. You arranged the kindling and small logs as Bob gathered some of the bigger ones Bradley had cut the day before. It was a few minutes before the two of you got a decent-sized setup, and in that time, Grace had joined you two, promising to get to the coffee first so you'd have a cup before venturing out for the day. 

You always thought her name suited her - literally always a saving grace. 

You held up one of the sticks as you were breaking up a few to add to the pile, twirling it as you inspected the top. "This would make for a good Marshmellow stick."

Bob dropped the log he'd picked up into the pit before settling himself down next to you. He reached out and took the stick from your hand, playing with the top of it like you would messing around with the sharp edge of a knife.

"This one?" Bob said, examining the stick closely. "Nah, it's too flimsy. It'd catch fire before you got that perfect char." 

You quickly catch on to his meaning, and you gasped at him in horror. "Bobby, No.. that's just...a Marshmellow shouldn't be crunchy."

"I've always made them like that!" he exclaimed in protest.

"That is so wrong, so so wrong!" you cried out. Grace makes a gagging noise in agreement with you. "The burnt part is carcinogenic, Bob. Listen to Maeve," she tried to encourage him. 

"You can always take the burnt stuff off," he pouts. 

"That's not the point of a Marshmellow on a stick. You want them crispy, not fired to hell."

"Is that where you make yours?"

You turn your head towards him, shocked. Then, a bout of soft giggles racks your body as Bob starts to sport a grin. "Damn, you woke up snarky this morning."

"It's not my fault you two like eating fluffy clouds and chalk dust," he joked, knocking your shoulder playfully. You and Grace share a look and continue to giggle, shaking your heads.

It took a little bit for Bob and you to get the flames to catch. But eventually, after some poking, prodding and waving, the flames erupted and grew steadily, crackling happily.

You stood to high-five Bob, celebrating after your struggle. But just over Bob's shoulder, you see Jake walking down the path, fishing rod in hand, and it quiets you instantly. His gait was easy, and he appeared lost in his thoughts, watching each of the steps he took. He seemed tired, with bags under his eyes and his face weary.

You missed the way Grace and Bob shared a look at one another.

Once he reached the edge of the camp, Jake lifted his head, his eyes immediately meeting yours. You want to glance away, but you can't bring yourself to. There's a strange mix of emotions swirling inside you - curiosity, irritation, maybe something else you can't quite put your finger on.

Jake holds your gaze for all but two seconds before it's travelling down to the bandage on your wrist. He knits his brow, and a pained expression strikes his face. It's enough for you to instinctively tuck your arm behind your back and drop your chin to your chest in embarrassment.

Grace calls out that the coffee is ready, and you twist, reaching for the cup she's holding out to you. You grab it eagerly, offering a quiet 'thank you' and bringing it up to rest just before your nose, taking a deep breath.

The smell seems to calm you down but does nothing for the image of Jake's reaction to your wrist playing in your head.

Was that guilt you saw? Or lack of sleep? Did he lose sleep over it? Over what happened last night? He did try to call for you. But why? Why? The idea that Jake might actually feel remorse was unsettling, challenging even.

Despite yourself, you glanced back over your shoulder. Jake was already gone, off to greet Mickey good morning with a hug and slap on the back, and you felt ashamed for even having looked.

'No, it couldn't be,' you mused to yourself, 'Jake's not the type to feel guilty.'

You smiled into the rim of your coffee for a moment, thinking about what he might do or react when he tasted your salty surprise.

"What are you smiling about?"

You jumped as Mickey bumped your shoulder with his. "It's too quiet for the two of you this morning."

You shrugged, trying to suppress your grin. "Maybe he's feeling guilty for yesterday. I don't purposely start shit with him, Mickey. You know that."

Mickey didn't answer you. Rather, he reached for your hand, carefully lifting it up so he could inspect your wrist. "Can I take a look at it, Maeve? Please? I promise to be gentle."

You sighed. "I know, I did a shit job of wrapping it last night."

Mickey shook his head. "I only want to make sure there isn't any permanent damage."

You paused for a second before nodding. You let Mickey guide you over to his chair, allowing him to help you sit with a gentle hand on your elbow. He kneeled in front of you, placing your arm on your lap as he worked on undoing your bandage.

"How's the pain?" he asked as he started to unwrap it.

"It doesn't hurt as much as it did last night, though it's throbbing a bit."

"That's probably some swelling," he offered, not unkindly. Mickey made sure you kept your eyes on him as he unveiled the damage, hoping to provide you with some reassurance. You appreciated it, knowing you'd jump to conclusions before knowing how bad it truly was.

He had already unwrapped your arm when he lifted his head, about to ask you if you were ready to see the damage on your wrist, when his eyes tracked some movement behind you. The corner of his mouth wobbled, and he shook his head, immediately setting his back on to you. You went to look, hoping to change whatever caused him to frown when a quip from the other side of the campsite stopped you.

"Need someone to kiss your boo'-boos, Midge?"

Oh, that bitch!

Mickey stopped what he was doing in favour of placing a hand on your thigh, preventing you from leaping up out of your chair. You tense at the touch, and you are sure it's the only thing holding you back. But you wouldn't be you if you didn't offer some type of snarky reply in kind.

It was there, ready to be unleashed. That was until you heard Jake's voice boom from somewhere behind you, the man stepping forward as if he were on a mission.

"Oh, would you give it a fucking rest, Jessica? Unless you're a certified medic now," he points to Mickey, "I doubt your expertise extends to anything beyond Instagram filters and badly photoshopped pictures."

What. The. Fuck.

Your mouth drops. Your face flushes. And you can't help but stare up at Jake as he confronts them - On your behalf. There's even collective 'oohs' filling the camp, and Bradley's rapidly looking back and forth between you, Jake, and Jessica, wondering what the hell happened to warrant such a reaction.

It's the first time you've ever heard Jake speak to Jessica like that, let alone defend you. Are you not sure how you're supposed to feel about the response? Grateful? Happy? Appreciative? Angry he felt the need to defend you?

Why the hell did he defend you?

"She got hurt last night," he points out sharply. "So I don't understand what your point is in saying that. And honestly, it's just getting old and, frankly, pathetic."

Jessica's eyes widen and her face starts to turn red, her rounded cheeks almost looking like cherries. She jolted back, recoiling as if he had dealt her an invisible blow, and her gaze briefly darts to Rueben, then back to Jake.

Conflict is written all over her face.

"Come on, Jake, she didn't mean it like that?" Veronica counters, stepping forward to slide her arm under Jessica's in support.

And in a surprising turn of events, Jake starts to laugh. Mockingly.

To them.

"How does she mean it then?" he turns to Veronica, sarcasm laced into his tone. "What's the point? A Joke? Scarastic comment?"

Jake's face suddenly lights up, a look you are all too familiar with when going head-to-head against him. You cannot help but chant inside your head, Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

"Maybe throwing a peace sign up at the end of it as you do in your photos would have helped, but I can't say that's what I would have done when someone has been hurt."

You could swear your heart was beating out of your chest. This didn't make sense.

"Come on, Man, that's not right. Anyone who knows her should know she's not like that." It's Ruben, this time, standing up for his girlfriend, though you can detect a bit of nerves in his tone. 

And Jake sneers. Sneers! "Some shakey moral high ground, if you ask me."

"Dude..."

Jake shakes his head, grabbing Rueben by the elbow and pulling him close. He whispers something into his ear, and Rueben's eyes widen. It makes you grip the armrest tighter, maybe in some mediocre attempt to assure yourself you didn't fall down a hole instead of your tent last night and wake up in an alternate dimension.

"It's just badly bruised. Nothing's broken, and the tendon is fine. I would try to keep it wrapped, though."

Mickey prodded at your bruise, and you hissed from the pain, immediately drawing your eyes away from the interaction, finally taking in the damage done to your wrist.

It's ugly, to say the least. It's somewhat ironic that you are already comparing it to smudges on a painter's palette rather than something real and painful marking your own body.

The centre of the bruise was a deep, angry purple, the colour rich and dark, indicating just exactly where you hit the ground. Surrounding it was a halo of different shades of blue, varying in intensity. Some looked like deep twilight, while others were lighter, reminiscent of faded denim. And there was an edge of yellow-green, giving the false impressing it was beginning to heal, though it was very much a fresh injury.

The sight only confirms what you thought this morning. There was no chance you'd be painting at any point while on this trip.

"I'm going to get Cora to wrap it again to relieve some of the swelling. She'd have our asses if we don't let her do it."

You shutter. "Don't I know it."

As Mickey left to find Cora, you tried to figure out what happened. While everyone else had finally woke up and was venturing around the camp, Jessica and Veronica were nowhere to be found. Neither was Rueben, for that matter. Jake, however, was extending his Yeti mug towards Grace with a grateful nod, who was going around filling cups of coffee after having watched the spectacle.

You knew what was coming next. Sitting on his chair was his food bag, and Jake kneeled next to it, placing the mug on the ground to rummage through it. To your surprise, the sight fills you with guilt, and you battle the urge to tell him what you did.

After all, he didn't need to call out Jessica for what she said. But the angel and devil on your shoulder are vying for your attention, and you don't know which one you should listen to.

Be the better person, Maeve. Tell him not to drink it.

Sit back and watch the show, Midge. He deserves it.

Your internal conflict of should or shouldn't is decided for you when Jake finally grabs onto the tiny bottle and dumps a little bit into his coffee. You scrunch your face as he closes the lid and lifts the Tumblr to his lips to take his first sip.

His reaction was immediate, sputtering out his coffee with the grace of an angry camel, and his mug fell to the ground with a loud clank. He stands, racing off towards the bush, coughing and gagging as if he were about to bring up whatever was in his stomach.

You wouldn't be surprised if he did.

But where you thought you'd be rolling in laughter and enjoying his little misery, you're wincing instead. Both elated he was getting a small ounce of karma and mad he had to be anything but kind this morning.

"Why is Jake gagging and throwing up his breakfast over in the bush?" Cora asked as she kneeled down in the same spot Mickey had been.

"Not too sure. Maybe he mistook the salt for sugar instead," you answered her, holding out your wrist for her to wrap.

Cora had already picked up your bandage from where Mickey had placed it in the cup holder when she regarded you for a moment.

She shook her head. "Midge, you didn't."

You eyed her as she started to wrap your arm. "You can't tell me he didn't deserve it after this?" you say, lifting your arm as she securely tightens your bandage around your thumb.

Cora bites her lip in concentration for a second, careful to mind your hand as she pulls the bandage tight, allowing for relief but mindful of how much it hurts. You let out a soft cry as she pulled the material over the most painful part of your wrist.

"I suppose it's a harmless prank," she remarked once the worst of it was over.

"Be glad it didn't do more."

Cora lifted her head, though she didn't stop wrapping your hand. "Did you do more?"

You shook your head. "I'm not saying anything."

And you didn't want to, even if you did or didn't. Jake was alarmingly kind this morning, and anything you said or did in addition to this would make you that bitch in all of this. Cora would be the last person on earth to judge you for pulling shit like this, but that didn't mean the rest of the group would.

It seems your point is nearly proven, too, when Nat pulls you aside in the breakfast line, glaring at you like a mother extremely disappointed in her kid.

"Is that it?" she asked you firmly, jerking her head over towards Jake. "With him?"

She stood with her arms crossed, her posture rigid, and you only offered her a small, toothy grin. "You can't tell me he doesn't deserve a little karma for this," you say, holding up your wrist.

Nat eyed your hand, her face still hard. "You got hurt last night, Maeve. If the two of you keep this up, it's going to escalate, and things are going to get worse."

You shrugged. "It's just a harmless prank, Nat. You know I'm capable of doing much worse."

She does know, having been your accomplice back in school. The two of you were in charge of the student union's annual April Fool's trick for three years in a row. To this day, you're pretty sure some of those crickets were still alive and pissing Dr. Flynn off in his lecture hall.

There was a moment of silence as Nat weighed your words, prompting you to say, "He woke all of us up yesterday morning by banging a pan, he wanted us to lug the cooler up that hill, and he screamed bear, resulting in this," you hold up your arm. "Salt in his coffee? That's minuscule in comparison."

"Alright," she finally said, her voice firm. "But it stops there. We don't need the drama."

"Alright, Mom," you joked, grabbing a bowl of oatmeal. Satisfied with your answer, she let you go, guiding you back to your spot in the line. After collecting your bowl and while she was getting hers, you leaned over, resting your shoulder against hers.

"You got to admit, though, the look on his face was worth it alone."

Nat couldn't help it when she sputtered out a laugh at the memory, and you giggled softly as you swayed back to your tent with your food.

You wondered if something as simple as switching out sugar for salt would be enough to fuck up his day. Or if the guilt building in the pit of your stomach would stop any time soon. After all, Velma Kelly in Chicago was right.

He definitely had it coming. Anyone would have done the same.

...Right?

Careful, Maeve - Nat's not happy.. Not at all...

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Part 5 - I can't go on without you - is being edited!

~ Lucky ☘️

[sugarcoated-lame]

Always A Bridesmaid | Jake Seresin x Reader

18+ only, minors DNI!

Jake Seresin x female Bradshaw!reader

read part two here

Synopsis: Bradley tells all the guys at his wedding that his little sister is off limits… But when has Jake ever listened to Rooster?

WC: 10.5k (she’s a long one folks)

Warnings: a teeny bit of angst, mentions of alcohol, drinking, smut, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected pinv, slight overstimulation, age gap (not really specified but reader is around 23-24 yrs old, jake is in his early 30s), jake being too damn charming for his own good, rooster being a very overprotective big brother, jake being a menace, and natasha being the best sister-in-law, for the sake of this story we’re gonna pretend that Goose died a few years later than what is canon to explain how Bradley has a sister that’s 10+ years younger than him lol

a/n: it’s been like two months since I initially started writing this, so I’m so happy to finally get it out! (:

⋆ . ˚ ✩ comments, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! ⋆ . ˚ ✩

*

Today was a big day, and you wish you could say you were more excited about it. It’s not every day that your big brother gets married to the love of his life. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and Natasha “Phoenix” Trace had finally said “I do” and you were ecstatic for your favorite female pilot to officially become a part of the family. 

But you were also recently single, having been broken up with by the boyfriend you’d been with throughout most of college and the following two years since you’d graduated.

Things hadn’t ended on bad terms, the two of you just weren’t in love anymore. What worked in college just wasn’t working anymore, and you’d spent the last few months of your relationship denying to yourself the fact that you were unhappy. 

You’re pretty sure now that the both of you had known for a while you weren’t right for each other, but you had been scared to end it–terrified at the notion of starting over. But, the relationship had run its course and, ultimately, he was the one to end things. 

That was three weeks ago. You’d come to terms with the break-up, knowing it was what’s best for you. But that didn’t mean it still didn't hurt. It didn’t mean you weren’t sad, or that you were ready to be subjected to all the happiness and celebration that goes into a wedding.

You’re granted a brief reprieve from your melancholy thoughts when your new sister-in-law sneaks up and taps you on the shoulder. “Hey… You don’t look like you’re having much fun. Are you okay?” 

Natasha asks the question with a sheepish grin. You can tell she’s trying to seem nonchalant, but you can hear the underlying concern in her voice. 

Bradley and Natasha had been together five years now, engaged for one, and you could clearly see from the way that he smiled at her and the permanent glimmer in his eyes, that your brother was truly happy. He and Phoenix had become fast friends during their time together at Top Gun, and it eventually evolved into something more.

When Bradley brought Natasha home to meet you at Thanksgiving during your sophomore year of college, you knew even then that she would be the girl he was one day going to marry. Best friends turned lovers. You could only dream you’d find that for yourself someday.

You and Natasha had quickly become close as well. Bradley and Uncle Mav were the only family you had and it was nice to have another person–especially a badass woman like Natasha, in your corner. 

The two of you got on like a house on fire, and Natasha was always there to give her love and support. She was like the big sister you never had, and it wasn’t long before the two of you were ganging up on your brother and teasing him together.

As Natasha’s maid of honor, you’d spent the morning with her and the other bridesmaids, helping the blushing bride get ready for her big day. In a fancy suite getting all dolled up while drinking mimosas, having your hair and makeup done before changing into matching bridesmaid dresses of a silky satin—cowl neckline and spaghetti straps, in a soft lavender shade. Helping Natasha into her beautiful, intricately lacy, white wedding gown.

The wedding ceremony was absolutely beautiful and had gone off without a hitch. Bradley had tears in his eyes as Natasha walked down the aisle to the Wedding March, matching smiles on their faces as they joined hands at the altar. 

You even shed a tear yourself as the couple exchanged their vows, and before you knew it, Bradley was pulling Natasha in for a loving kiss and they were declared husband and wife.

Then, onto the reception, you’d watched with a slightly sad smile as Bradley and Natasha shared their first dance as husband and wife. You were so happy for the two of them, truly, but it was hard to get into the headspace for celebrating. Seeing two of your favorite people so in love when you’d just been dumped. When your own love life was at a standstill and you were left feeling lost and lonely.

You’d been too preoccupied in your thoughts to notice the first dance had come to an end before Nat came to talk to you. You felt guilty at the fact that she was spending her time worrying about you when she should be enjoying her big day. You’re lucky to call Natasha your sister.

So, you force your most convincing smile onto your face and nod your head, telling her that you’re just fine.

“Just tired from the long day, but I’m having a great time. I’m good, I promise!” You weren’t sure if she believed you, but luckily Natasha was pulled away by one of her aunts gushing over how beautiful she looked and offering her congratulations, before she could protest.

It’s especially hard to enjoy a wedding reception when you’re sat at a table alone, watching as everyone else is having a good time, dancing along to the music being played by the DJ. 

Once the first dance was through, the rest of the guests were welcomed to join the happy couple on the dancefloor. You knew your brother had plenty of cute pilot friends, and you also knew–thanks to Natasha–that some of them were single. So, you were hoping that one of them might ask you to dance.

You may have also been hopeful for the possibility of getting laid tonight. You were newly single but even then, it’d been months since you and your ex last had sex. You were sad and lonely and thought, what better way to get back out there and help yourself feel better than hooking up with one of said cute pilots? 

Your plan, however, seemed futile because none of the guys would even talk to you. In fact, since Bradley had introduced you to them after the ceremony earlier in the day, his fellow pilots could hardly look you in the eye.

“Guys, this is my little sister.” With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, your brother had rattled off each of the naval aviators’ names and callsigns, and told his friends your name. They were all nice enough, each politely shaking your hand and making small talk, a few of them making jokes at your big brother’s expense.

But you could sense there was an awkwardness there, almost as if the members of the Dagger squad were afraid of you. You couldn’t understand why, but you could tell they were hesitant to keep the conversation going with you.

Initially, you brushed it off. However, as the day went on, whenever you’d find yourself alone in conversation with one of the Top Gun pilots, they each kept the interactions very short and sweet, acting as though they couldn’t get away from you fast enough. Leaving you feeling unsure of yourself and wondering what you could have possibly done to have them all so blatantly avoiding you. 

So, after sharing a dance with your dear Uncle Mav and relinquishing him back into the awaiting arms of Penny, you spend the next half hour moping at the table on your own. Absent-mindedly swirling the straw around in your drink, chin resting in your other hand as you watch the festivities going on around you. 

And that’s how Jake finds you.

You were adorable. With your sparkling eyes and your hair pinned up into some intricate up-do that Jake wanted to see undone, a few pieces flowing down and framing your face. The hint of cleavage Jake could see beneath the cowl neckline of that lavender dress that hugged your curves so well as you leaned forward against the table, a slight pout on your lips as you observed everyone having fun on the dancefloor.

Jake could tell that you weren’t having a good time and he knew exactly why. 

Little did you know that earlier that morning while Bradley and his groomsmen were getting ready in a suite separate from the girls, your brother had had a “talk” with all the guys.

Debriefing about last night’s rehearsal dinner, Hangman, Coyote, and Fanboy–all of the single groomsmen–had been discussing a few of Natasha’s bridesmaids that they thought were cute. Especially the maid of honor. 

Rooster’s ears had been ringing when he heard them describe you to a T, and Jake could practically see smoke coming out of them as he turned toward his friends, always the overprotective big brother ready to shut them down.

“The maid of honor,” all of the groomsmen turned to look at the mustached groom as he began to speak.

“Is my little sister. And she’s off limits.” At his words and the stern, serious tone of Bradley’s voice, Jake and the others collectively shut up, matching caught-out and shocked expressions on each of their faces.

“I mean it, guys, I don’t wanna see any of you hitting on her. I love you all like my brothers, but I’m not afraid to kick someone’s ass if I see you trying it on with my sister.”

The guys all knew that Rooster wasn’t bluffing. With rushed apologies and confirmations that they’d leave you alone, the tension left the room as they all laughed it off and went about their business getting ready for the ceremony. 

With Bradley’s warning in mind, the Dagger squad had spent the rest of the day being nice—but not too nice—whenever they spoke to you, and tried to keep their interactions with you to a minimum, so as not to face your older brother’s wrath.

They all knew that Bradley could be a bit hotheaded. Even Bob, who is very happily married, found himself a little afraid to spend too much time conversing with you.

Jake was ready to follow the rules too, it was Bradshaw’s wedding after all. He could hold off on pissing off his best frenemy for one night. At least that was the case, until the reception. 

When he saw you sitting all alone, all gorgeous and sulking, Jake knew right then that he had to go talk to you. He knew he was the only one stupid enough—or brave enough, if you ask him—to go against your brother’s wishes, and who was Jake if he wasn’t stirring the pot?

Was it so wrong for him to help a pretty lady have a good time? And you were beautiful, strikingly so, so Jake wouldn’t mind if he got a little something out of it too. 

Jake isn’t scared of your brother. Besides, Rooster is far too busy dancing with Phoenix, the newlywed couple far too preoccupied with making heart-eyes at each other to notice him making his way over to you.

Your eyes widen with intrigue as the tall, blonde pilot—Jake, or Hangman as he’d been introduced to you—sidles over to where you’re seated. 

God, was he handsome. You sit up a little straighter as he plonks himself down in the chair next to you, a devilish smirk on his lips as he turns toward you. 

“What is a pretty little thing like you doing sitting here all on her lonesome?” He inquires, a slight Southern drawl to his voice. Texan, maybe?

“Um… drinking?” Your answer is short, but you’re a bit caught off guard and still annoyed by the fact that all of your attempts at socializing tonight with anyone outside of the few members of your family and Phoenix, had failed. 

But now, here was Hangman, going out of his way to talk to you and looking you straight in your eyes. His green gaze intense and leaving you a bit flustered. 

Jake glances down to where you’re still toying with the straw in your near-empty glass. With that playful smirk still present on his face, he goes to speak again.

“Well, darlin’, I cannot in good conscience let you drink alone. What are you drinking and how ‘bout I buy you another one?” His question makes you scoff. 

“Tequila Sunrise, and it’s an open bar, so… no, you can’t buy me a drink.” You roll your eyes at the almost too handsome pilot. 

Oh. Pretty and feisty. Jake was going to have a hard time staying away from you.

“Well then, how about I acquire you another one, and because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll even join you?” Jake winks at you and stands, striding towards the bar before you could even answer his question. 

Your brother and Natasha had mentioned Hangman to you a handful times over the years, and he was just as cocky and self-assured as they always said. But, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you don’t find it kind of charming, or that you aren’t extremely attracted to him.

Jake returns a couple minutes later, a Tequila Sunrise in one hand and a glass of what looked to be whiskey in the other. He places your drink down in front of you and slides back into the chair next to yours, albeit a few inches closer this time.

“You know, you look pretty miserable over here. Though, I guess I would be too if I had to grow up with Rooster as my brother.” That draws a genuine laugh out of you.

“There she is!” His exclamation makes you giggle, a slight blush taking over your cheeks. Jake loves the sight of your smile. The sound of your laugh. He decides that he wants to hear that sound over and over again.

“He’s not so bad.” You refute through your laughter.

“I just don’t really know many people here, and I kind of get the feeling my brother and Nat’s friends don’t like me very much. I’m not sure why…” You trail off and look down at your lap, shy all of a sudden. Jake has to fight very hard to not smile at how adorable your furrowed brows and pouted lips are.

“You’re the first person here to actually talk to me for more than two seconds.” You let out a nervous laugh and start sipping your new drink.

Jake feels bad that your dumbass brother’s plan to keep the guys away from you is the reason you’re feeling so down, without you even knowing. And no matter how cute you may look, Jake doesn’t like seeing you sad. He’s going to rectify that.

“Well darlin’, now that I’m here, you don’t need to talk to anyone else.” Jake’s smile is still smug, but sincere, and you can’t help but grin back at him. You shake your head and giggle at the cocky pilot, thinking to yourself that it wouldn’t be so bad if he were the only person you had to talk to for the rest of the night.

“Now, how about we finish these drinks and then we head out onto the dancefloor?” To that, you agree, and the two of you sit sipping your drinks and talking for a little while. Getting better acquainted. Jake is fun and very charming, and you love how easily he’s able to make you laugh.

When Jake notices that you’re just about done with your tequila sunrise, he quickly shoots back the rest of his whiskey, ready to get you onto the dancefloor. He stands and you accept the hand he’s extended toward you, his large hand engulfing your smaller one and letting him lead you into the crowd of people. 

Standing in front of him now, you only just notice how good Jake looks in his suit. It’s a simple black suit, white undershirt and black tie, like all the groomsmen wore. But the way it fits his body, the way the jacket sleeves are ever-so-slightly too tight around his big arms, and the way you could tell he was extremely toned even under layers of clothing, made you dizzy.

As you make it onto the floor, Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Everywhere’ begins to play through the speakers. Jake pulls you in close to him by your joined hands and spins you around under his arm. The two of you laugh, both a little tipsy. 

You spend the duration of the song dancing together like children without a care in the world. Not much rhythm to it or any real dance moves, mostly just jumping around and singing along to the lyrics, Jake twirling you around a good number of times. You’re sure that the two of you look like idiots, but it’s the most fun you’ve had all night.

You dance together to a couple more upbeat songs, and Jake can’t help but admire you. He finds it incredibly sexy how carefree you seem in this moment.

As another classic rock song comes to an end and a slower song takes its place, Jake pulls you in again. This time by the waist, until you’re nearly chest-to-chest. The warmth of his hands setting your skin alight through the thin, satiny fabric of your bridesmaid’s dress. 

Your own hands slide up his biceps, coming to rest on his broad shoulders. You look up at him with those bright, beautiful eyes and a shy smile, and Jake finds himself entranced. 

God, he wants to kiss you.  

You rest your head on his chest as he begins to sway you softly along to the music. As if Jake can feel eyes burning into the side of his face, he turns the two of you slightly, only to find Rooster glaring at him as he stands across the dancefloor, slow dancing with Phoenix.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Bradley quietly asks, mostly to himself, but the question catches his wife’s attention. 

“What is who doing?” Natasha queries with a laugh as she turns to look at where Bradley’s hard gaze is pointed.

“Aw, maybe Bagman does have a heart.” Her lips form into an exaggerated pout as she watches Jake and you sway from side to side as he holds you in his arms, your head leaning on his chest. Bradley looks down at her with a bewildered look on his face.

“No, that is most definitely not AW, and no he doesn’t!” He grouches with a sigh. Natasha gives him a questioning glance, waiting expectantly for whatever the hell it is she’s missing right now.

“I told those idiots to stay away from her.” Bradley mutters dejectedly.

“What are you talking about, told who to stay away from who?” Natasha narrows her eyes at her husband.

“Jake and the rest of the squad. I overheard them talking about how hot they thought my sister was, and I told them to leave her alone.” Bradley whines.

Natasha stays silent for a few moments, processing this information and looking up at her husband with a stunned expression.

“Oh, honey…” She can’t help but laugh. Now she understands why you’d spent much of the evening sulking.

“What?!” Bradley practically shrieks. “She’s my baby sister, I just wanna protect her!”

At that, Natasha cracks a smile. She’s always admired how much Rooster loves his little sister and how, with your parents gone, he always felt it was his responsibility to take care of you. 

“Bradley, I love you, but you really are an idiot sometimes.” Natasha grins, shaking her head at her husband. The look he gives her is dumbfounded and one of slight offense.

“Babe, I get that you want to protect your sister, but she’s not a kid anymore. She’s an adult and you have to let her make her own choices and her own mistakes. Even if one of those mistakes is Bagman.” Natasha scrunches her nose playfully and Bradley gives her a deadpan look. 

“You know she’d be pissed if she found out that you did that.” Natasha smirks, thinking back on a few of the silly sibling spats that she’s had to mediate over the last few years since she’s been with Bradley—most of them due entirely to his overprotective tendencies and your desire to escape them. 

“Come on, Roo, you know I’m right.” Bradley rolls his eyes dramatically and sighs, wrapping his arms around his bride. 

“Yeah, you always are. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He places a kiss on her forehead, and murmurs against her skin. “But if he hurts her, I’ll kill him.” 

Bradley glares in Jake’s direction once again.

Jake can also feel the eyes of the other Top Gun pilots on the two of you. They’ve all just witnessed the interaction and look between him and Rooster, some looking on in amusement, others in fear for Jake's safety.

Jake has to bite back a laugh, leaning his head down on top of yours to hide the cheeky smile that plays on his lips. The two of you slow dance a little while longer, Jake’s hands rubbing gently up and down your sides and sending your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies.

Jake decides he’d like a moment alone with you, away from prying eyes. His hands leave your torso, moving to rest on your arms, giving them a light squeeze to gain your attention. The hazy, content look on your pretty face when you look up at him only strengthens his desire to be alone with you. Fuck, he wants you.

“Come with me?” Jake leans down to whisper into your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. When he pulls back, you look up to see his emerald eyes boring into you, and you simply nod.

You aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but if he keeps looking at you like that, you’re pretty certain you’d follow him anywhere. He grabs your hand and spares a last glance at your still glaring brother, smirking as he leads you to the exit of the ballroom. 

Before you can make it past the threshold though, Jake comes to an abrupt stop and lets go of your hand.

“One second.” He quickly breathes out, leaving you standing by the door as he darts back over the bar.

You’re confused for a moment, but you can’t help but giggle to yourself as you watch him look around to make sure no one is watching before he reaches behind the bar, grabbing an unopened bottle of champagne. 

He sprints back over to you, once again taking your hand in his free one and speeding out into the hallway, pulling you along with him. You’re unable to keep from laughing, near breathless as you try to keep up with Jake’s long strides in your high heels.

When he finds a dark, empty room towards the back of the venue hall, Jake pulls you inside with him and closes the door. Before you know it, your back is pressed against it, hitting the hard wood with a thud as Jake crashes his lips against yours, kissing you breathless.

Catching your plush bottom lip between both of his, one of his hands finds your waist in the dark, the other still holding onto the neck of the champagne bottle. You kiss him back with just as much fervor, reaching a hand up into Jake’s blonde hair and tugging lightly, pulling a soft groan from him. 

The two of you move in sync, lips pressing together at an increasing speed and intensity until your lungs are burning from the lack of oxygen. Jake pulls back for some air and both of your chests are heaving, light pants escaping your lips as you stare at each other in the dark of the room.

When you look down and catch a glimpse of the bottle still in Jake’s grasp, you let out a breathless chuckle.

“You forgot the glasses.” 

He follows your gaze and laughs along with you, though it comes out as more of a pant.

“Shit, yeah. Maybe we can find some in here, if I can just find a light…” Jake trails off, his body leaving your personal space and pulling the warmth of him along with it. You’re left standing by the door, feeling cold and already missing his presence and his weight against you as he goes off in search of the lights. 

It’s a quick search, after about only 30 seconds, Jake finds a lamp on a table in the corner of the room. He switches it on, casting the room in a soft, dim golden light.

No longer bathed in darkness, you now see that the room you ended up in is another suite like the ones the bridal party had used to get ready that morning. A couple of fancy olive green velvet couches spread throughout the space, a few vanity mirrors along the far wall, a door leading to a bathroom at the back. 

You take a seat on one of the lavish couches and remove your heels, feet aching a bit after the long day. You pull your legs up onto the couch as Jake goes on the hunt for champagne glasses. After a brief and unsuccessful search, Jake joins you on the couch.

“No luck.” His playful pout makes you giggle as he plops down onto the cushion next to you. 

“Fuck it!” Jake exclaims as he turns the champagne bottle away from you to open it, a small gasp escaping your lips as he sends the cork flying somewhere across the room. 

He hands the bottle over to you with a grin.

“Ladies first.” And there’s that wink again. As you take a swig from the bottle, Jake pulls your feet up into his lap, and you nearly choke on the fizzy liquid in surprise when his fingers begin to massage your calves. Once the initial shock wears off, you can’t stop the contented sigh that escapes your lips at the feeling. 

When you’ve taken a few sips, you hand the bottle back over to Jake, fingers brushing as he takes it from your grasp. His eyes remain on your face as he takes a big swig of the champagne and you can feel a blush beginning to heat up your face. 

Setting the bottle down on the floor, Jake tugs your legs closer to him again, this time pulling until you’re nearly sitting in his lap and drawing a little yelp from you. Your face is inches away from his and in the dim lamplight you can see that his eyes are blown wide, mostly black with only a hint of that pretty green visible.

Jake reaches a hand toward the back of your neck, gently running his fingers between your shoulder blades and down your upper back, bare due to the low backing of your dress. Grazing your skin with a featherlight touch before curling his fingers around the nape of your neck and pulling you in to kiss him again. 

The taste of champagne is prevalent as Jake attaches his lips to yours. His other hand moves to your waist to help guide you fully onto his lap. Your own hands slide along his chest over the soft fabric of his suit jacket and up to his broad shoulders, fingers gripping lightly at the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck. Your lips move softly against his, finding a rhythm and allowing yourself to get lost in it.

Jake’s hands squeeze at your waist, thumbs just barely grazing the underside of your breasts through your dress as he deepens the kiss. Pulling you impossibly closer as he nips at your bottom lip, eliciting a quiet whine from you. His tongue tracks along the seam of your lips and you’re quick to part them for him, allowing his tongue to work softly against yours.

You and Jake relish in the taste of one another mixed with the sweetness of the bubbly alcohol, your movements becoming more fervent. Your head grows dizzy as Jake groans into your mouth when your fingers gently tug at the hair at his nape.

Jake feels his cock twitch in his pants when he pulls away and sees your hazy expression, all hooded lids and kiss-swollen lips. He presses a trail of sweet kisses to your jaw and chin, working his way down to your neck. His nose grazes the column of your throat, inhaling the sweet, flowery scent of your perfume.

Your head tilts back on a quiet moan, granting Jake more access as his mouth begins to work at the side of your neck. Sucking and biting at the soft skin, teeth sure enough to leave a mark. With your hands still in his hair, you pull Jake back up to your lips, kissing him ardently as your hips involuntarily rut against the growing bulge in his trousers.

You both moan at the friction as Jake’s hand moves to cup your cheek, fingers tangling in your intricately styled hair. As his tongue glides against yours, you feel him begin to pull at the pins, loosening your hair from its confines until it flows freely around your shoulders. He pulls back from the kiss to look at you with a look that screams pure lust.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” Jake breathes as he runs a hand through your silky locks. Since he first laid eyes on you, he’d wondered how you’d look with your hair all messy and free, your perfect little up-do unraveled. And fuck, does he like what he sees.

With a newfound sense of need, you reattach your lips to Jake’s, sliding your tongue into his mouth as your hands begin to push the suit jacket off of his shoulders. He shrugs it the rest of the way off, letting out a whispered ‘fuck’ as your lips trail down his sharp jawline to his neck as your nimble fingers begin to work on untying his tie, and straight to unbuttoning his dress shirt after that.

When his upper half is free of clothes, you tease soft, barely-there kisses along Jake’s shoulders and the hard plains of his chest. Eager to touch more of your skin, Jake’s hands make their way down to your thighs, changing positions to pull you underneath him on the velvet couch, your legs wrapped around his hips. He sits up and runs an index finger lightly under the thin strap of your dress.

“Can I?” You nod fervently in response to his question and Jake gently pushes the straps off of your shoulders.

You sit up and Jake pecks your lips, his hands moving behind you to unzip the top of your dress. The soft satin falls down around your torso, revealing a strapless lacy bra that matches the pastel purple of your dress. His hands reach again behind your back, making quick work of unclasping your bra to reveal your perfect, supple breasts.

Jake takes a moment to admire the beautiful picture that’s in front of him before he leans down to kiss at your chest. His lips work softly at the swell of your breast, thumb and index finger coming to pinch at one nipple while his mouth engulfs the other. The moan it pulls from you is music to Jake’s ears.

Your fingers tangle in his hair once again as his tongue swirls your nipple, quiet whimpers escaping you as he kisses and suckles at the skin. His mouth travels to your other breast, leaving a trail of kisses along the way before sucking the bud between his lips, tongue working softly at it until it forms a hardened peak.

Satisfied with his work, Jake grazes his teeth against your nipple, evoking a breathy gasp from you and a tug on his hair as he nips at the sensitive bud before releasing it. You feel a gush of arousal at your core as his mouth starts to trail lower down your torso. Kissing softly at your sternum, your ribcage, and just above your navel.

Goosebumps form along your skin as Jake lowers himself down on the couch, strong hands gliding up the sides of your thighs. Pushing the silky fabric of your dress along with them until it’s bunched up at the middle of your torso, revealing pretty, sheer lace panties that you’re sure are probably soaked through.

Jake presses a kiss to your hip bone, looking up at you with wild eyes awaiting your permission. You swallow hard, nodding your head frantically. You need him to touch you before you go insane.

“Please, Jake,” You hardly recognize the breathless, whiny voice that comes out of your mouth. “Need you.”

Jake runs a finger along your slit over the damp fabric of your panties, your desperate, breathy cries painting a smirk on his lips. He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

He teasingly bumps his finger into your clit just to hear you whine before his fingers grip onto your waistband, pulling the lacy fabric torturously slow down your thighs. He sits back on his knees, pressing a kiss to your knee as he helps get your underwear the rest of the way down your legs.

When they fall to the floor, Jake repositions himself on the couch between your thighs, lifting one of them over his shoulder. His lips make a trail up the inside of your thigh, kissing and nipping at the soft skin and enjoying the way your breath catches as he inches closer to where you need him most, before ultimately moving back and starting again on the other thigh. Your fingers tug at his roots, chest breathless and heaving as you wait for Jake to just do something.

You moan out loudly in surprise as your wish is granted, Jake’s tongue licking a broad stripe through your folds. Your fingers tighten in his hair when he presses a kiss to your clit. He pulls back for a moment and just stares at your cunt, pretty and glistening just for him. 

You’d be embarrassed at the attention if it weren’t for the look of complete awe on his gorgeous face as he gazes at your core. His tongue glides through your folds again, collecting your arousal.

“Mm, so fuckin’ sweet, baby. Just like you.” And with that, Jake sucks your clit between his lips, drawing a loud cry from your lips as he applies a firm pressure. He alternates between suckling the sensitive bud and dipping his tongue into your hole, tasting the wetness that continues to flow at his ministrations.

As his lips wrap around your clit once more, you feel one of Jake’s fingers begin to tease at your entrance. Gathering the wetness there before the digit enters you, he lets out a low groan as you clench around it. He works his finger in and out, adding in a second to help stretch you out and get you ready for his cock.

Jake can hear your soft whimpers and heavy breathing, he can feel the way your walls clench around his fingers even tighter as he prods at that spongy spot inside of you and he knows that you’re close.

“Gonna come for me, Sweets? You gonna come all over my tongue?” Jake implores with a teasing smirk before he dives back in, tongue replacing his fingers and licking into you.

“Fuck, please, Ja- OHH!” Your plea is cut short as his fingers pinch at your clit once more. Rubbing tight circles in time with his tongue that’s fucking in and out your hole. Jake’s fingers quicken their pace, pressing firmly against your sensitive bud while he devours you, and you fall over the edge with a sharp cry that borders on being a scream.

“So fucking good for me.” Jake mutters against your center, his tongue lapping up your release while his fingers still gently swirl your clit and work you through your orgasm. He licks up every bit of your sweetness, rutting his hips against the velvety couch cushion to gain some friction on his still-clothed cock that strains under the fabric of his pants, as he watches you writhe under his tongue, hands tugging at his roots hard as your loud cries turn into soft whimpers.

Jake only lets up when your shaky hand tries to push his head away from your center, the pleasure becoming too much. Leaving one final kiss to your inner thigh, he pulls back, lips and chin glistening with your release.

You tug at Jake’s hair again, guiding his head back up to be level with yours. You pull him into a bruising kiss, moaning into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands travel down to unbuckle Jake’s belt and open the button of his trousers, one hand dipping into the waistband to cup him over his boxers. 

Jake grunts above you as you palm at his hard length, his own hands reaching down to help you remove his pants.

Only able to get them about halfway down his legs from his position hovering over you, Jake pulls back and stands from the couch. He pulls his dress pants and underwear down in one swift motion. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, his cock long and hard, the tip red and dripping with precum.

Before he can return to his previous position kneeling above you, you too stand up, pushing Jake back onto the couch in a seated position.

“Wha- where ya goin’, darling?” Jake questions you with a breathless chuckle, a bit surprised by the moment of dominance from you. As you drop to your knees in front of him though, he starts to get the hint.

“Just wanna return the favor.” You say it sweetly, giving him your best doe eyes. Jake’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, caressing the skin softly and letting out a desperate groan as you position yourself between his thick thighs.

You trail your nails along the skin of his thighs, leaving light pink marks in your wake as you tease your way to the apex of his thighs. When you finally wrap your hand around him, you feel Jake’s cock twitch in your grasp and look up at him with a sweet smile. 

Minx. Jake swears he could cum right then and there.

Your hand rubs along the base of Jake’s cock and up to his tip, collecting the precum dribbling from his slit and dragging it down his length to aid in your movements. Your grip tightens around him just slightly, and you enjoy the desperate sound he makes as you lean down to place a kiss to his weeping tip.

Hand still cupping your cheek, Jake’s fingers move into your hair as you kitten lick at his tip before taking him into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around the ridge of his head, sucking softly and moving further down onto his length. You take as much of him into your mouth as you can, eagerly sucking his shaft and using your hand to rub what you can’t fit.

Your fingers move to grip one of Jake’s strong thighs as you take him as far down your throat as you possibly can, blinking up at him with wide doe eyes. Your cheeks suction around his length and Jake chokes on a loud moan, his fingers tightening in your hair when his tip hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck, fuck.” He gently pulls you off of him with a groan, a string of saliva still connecting your swollen pink lips to the head of his cock. Jake knew he was getting close and he didn’t want to finish before feeling your sweet cunt wrapped around him.

“Need to be inside you, darlin’.” Jake practically begs as he pulls you up to your feet. He finishes unzipping your dress that’s still hanging down around your middle the rest of the way, watching the fabric pool around your feet before guiding you to sit atop his thighs. Fully naked and secure in his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lead Jake into another fiery kiss.

“Need you, Jake.” You breathe against his lips, noses rubbing together as you nod your head against him. 

You grind your hips down against his in an effort to convey your need. Jake’s hand reaches down to grip his cock, running it along your soaked folds and bumping your clit with his tip, teasing you both as you moan against each other’s lips.

“Shit… I don’t have a condom.” Jake realizes, voice sounding defeated as he looks down and  watches the head of his cock tease at your clit once more.

“Fuck.” The word comes out of your mouth as a whine. 

Fuck was right. All that hoping and planning to get lucky tonight, and you hadn’t had the forethought to bring protection? Whoops.

Lucky for you, you’d been on the pill for a couple of years now, having started taking it when you were with your ex. You place a gentle kiss to Jake’s cheek before pulling back to look in his eyes as you speak.

“I’m on the pill. And I haven’t been with anyone in a while, so… I’m good.” You chuckle sheepishly, brows furrowing slightly as you wait for Jake’s response.

Jake nods his head eagerly. “Fuck-yeah, I’m all good too! If you’re sure…” he wants to be sure that you’re comfortable.

He can’t help but grin as you nod your head just as eagerly, but that grin is quickly wiped off Jake’s face.

Your brother can never find out about this… Rooster would actually kill him. It’s bad enough that he’s sleeping with Bradley’s little sister on his wedding day, let alone without protection.

It’s an afterthought that Jake realizes he must’ve accidentally spoken aloud, as the giggles that erupt from you in response to the words spoken under his breath hit his ears.

“Yes.” You plant a kiss on his jaw. “I’m sure, Jake.” Another kiss. “Need you.” Your lips move to peck his hungrily.

His thoughts are immediately pulled away from Rooster and Jake couldn’t be happier. Not only does he get to be inside of you, but he gets to feel you wrapped around him with no barrier in between. 

Your blatant need for him only inflates Jake’s ego, and makes him impossibly harder. His hand cups the side of your neck, pressing his lips firmly to yours one more time before leaning back to look at you with a smug smirk.

“Go ahead. Take it, baby.” Jake drawls as he leans back, arms stretched along the back of the couch, his words have you clenching around nothing.

At his request, you lift your hips slightly, taking Jake’s hard cock into your hand and lining it up with your entrance. He watches in awe as you sink down around his length slowly, the both of you hissing simultaneously. You at the stretch, and him the tightness of your walls enveloping him. 

Your hands hold onto Jake’s shoulders for support as you take him, inch by inch, until he’s fully seated inside of you. You both let out quiet curses at the feeling. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so full, but your slickness makes for easy movement once you get used to the stretch.

You lift your hips until just the tip of his cock is still inside of you, before slowly sinking back down and grinding your hips against his.

“Fuck. Feel so good, darlin.” Jake groans as your muscles clench around him and you let out a quiet whimper in response.

You bury your face in the crook of Jake’s neck as you begin to ride him, moving up and down his length as your hips work to find a rhythm. Jake groans as you begin to pick up the pace, his hands moving to your hips to help guide your movements.

When you’ve found a good rhythm, Jake plants his feet firmly on the floor beneath him and begins to thrust up into you. Pulling your hips firmly against his with every thrust, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you cry out in ecstasy.

The soft whimpers you let out against the skin of his neck are driving Jake’s movements, the sweet, open-mouthed kisses littered against the column of his throat spurring him on. He grunts as your walls tighten around him in a vice-like grip on a particularly hard thrust. 

Jake can tell you’re getting tired as your thighs begin to tremble over his, hips stuttering and losing their tempo as you rise and sink yourself down on his cock.

His hands wrap around your thighs, lifting you off of him and you whine in protest at the loss of the fullness of him. With you still hovering over his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, Jake easily flips the two of you over, gently placing you so that you’re lying back on the velvety couch. He hovers over you, knees digging into the cushions and he leans down to attach his lips to yours as he lines up with your entrance again.

You moan into the kiss as Jake bottoms out inside of you, your velvety walls welcoming him in with ease. Jake lifts one of your thighs around his hips, your leg going to wrap around his back automatically as he plows into you, the head of his cock hitting that spot deep inside of you again and it has you seeing stars.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, Jake’s soft grunts and your blissful cries mingling together. Skin slapping against skin as Jake drives into you, the sound of your growing wetness as his cock moves in and out at a rapid pace. Jake leans down to suck a nipple into his mouth as he fucks you, nipping lightly at the skin.

“Jake…fuck! Please…” You’re babbling almost incoherently, the fucked-out look on your face sending Jake into a frenzy.

“I’ve got you, honey. Want you to come for me.” He mumbles against the skin of your chest as he continues to fuck you, one hand gripping onto the top of the couch for support.

He can sense you’re getting close and he applies a firm thumb to your clit, the pressure willing another moan from deep within you. Your fingers lock onto the strands of his hair as his fingers begin to circle the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Jake quickens the pace of his thrusts, and his hand moves to grab the leg that’s wrapped around his waist, instead pushing your knee up to your chest so he can plunge into you deeper. The new angle combined with the consistent pressure on your clit has you screaming out, and you pray that no one walks down the hall past this room right now because they’d definitely hear you.

The sensation of Jake’s thumb and forefinger harshly pinching your clit sends you over the edge, a loud, broken cry escaping your throat as he fucks you through it. His length continues to move in and out of you, hips never slowing their pace. The overstimulation leaves you a whimpering mess, nails clawing into Jake’s shoulder as he searches for his own high.

Jake is nearing his end too, the tightness of your walls constricting around his cock as you writhe and whimper underneath him makes his hips stutter as he slams into you. With a few more thrusts, he reaches his peak with a deep groan. His warm, sticky release coating your walls and you sigh blissfully at the feeling. Jake’s hips slow, not stopping fully until he’s spent, wanting to fill you up with every last drop of his cum.

Once he’s sure that you’ve milked him of every last bit, Jake pulls out of you gently and you whimper at the feeling. Missing the fullness of him already, a sigh escapes your lips as a mixture of his release and yours begins to dribble out between your thighs.

Jake moves to flip the two of you over so that you’re lying on top of him, your head resting upon his chest. You can feel his still-fast heartbeat against your ear, getting slower by the minute as he recovers from his high. 

Your own heart is racing too and your mind is hazy as you wind down, you’re not sure that anyone has ever fucked you so good. Jake’s arms wrap around you, one hand reaching up into your hair and gently massaging your scalp as the other softly rubs at the skin of your back.

The two of you lay there for a while, cuddling and quietly talking about everything and nothing. Sharing details about yourselves, wanting to get to know each other a little better. 

At some point, you pick up the bottle of champagne from the floor again, still resting on Jake’s chest as you pass it back and forth. Taking sips, both of you pleasantly buzzed—from both the alcohol and the orgasms—as you talk about your jobs, your families, anything and everything that comes to mind.

Eventually, the topic of discussion turns to the events of the day and the wedding, and Jake has you giggling as he makes some joke at your brother’s expense. 

Spending time with Jake is easy. You feel giddy, yet comfortable in his embrace and his cocky-but-charming personality hasn’t failed yet to make you smile.

“Maybe we should get married.” The sarcastic tone of Jake’s voice lets you know he’s obviously joking, but his words still have you lifting your head from his bare chest to look up at him, a bit bemused.

“It would make my entire life to see the look on Rooster’s face when he has to tell people that I’m his brother-in-law.” Jake continues, looking down at you with that signature smirk, the mischievous mirth in his eyes eliciting a giggle from you.

Even though he doesn’t know you very well yet, Jake can’t help but think it might actually be pretty nice to be married to someone like you. Sweet, funny, beautiful–and Jake finds he really enjoys spending time with you.

“Yeah, I’d pay good money to see that.” You agree, your body being gently bounced around with the movement of Jake’s chest beneath you as he joins you in your laughter.

“Ok, so I know it’s a little soon for marriage, but I would like to take you out.” For the first time since you met him earlier that day, Jake actually seems a bit… nervous? The smile on his face is a bashful one and you find it’s adorable. From the stories your brother had told about the cocky pilot, you never would’ve thought you’d find him so endearing.

“Like… in the murdering sense?” You try to alleviate his nerves with a bit of humor and Jake’s subsequent deadpan stare has you giggling again. You lean up to press a kiss to his jaw. He pretends to be annoyed by your antics, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile.

“On a date.” He drawls with a dramatic eye roll. You suck in a breath and plaster a pensive look on your face, pretending for a moment like you actually need to think about his offer. You exhale with an exaggerated sigh.

“Ok.” Your arms tighten around Jake’s torso and you press a kiss to his chest.

“Yeah?” Jake tries to keep his cool, but he has a hard time hiding the excitement in his voice. He knows you can probably feel the way his heart has sped up beneath your cheek that’s resting against his skin too.

“Yes. I’d love to go out with you.” You lift your head to gaze up at him once more, trying to bite back your grin. But Jake’s thumb reaches up to release your bottom lip from between your teeth, gently running over the tender skin as he gazes down at you with those glittering green eyes. Yeah, you could get used to that.

The two of you stay wrapped up together on the sofa a little while longer, still talking quietly so as to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere of the ambiently-lit suite. You’re still lying on Jake’s chest, your legs intertwined with his, lulled into a hazy state of comfort as one of his hands lightly runs through your hair, lazily twirling the locks around his finger. His other hand is softly tracing patterns onto the bare skin of your back.

You and Jake have been gone a long while now, and you know if you don’t return to the party soon, Bradley is going to come looking for you. Deciding you’d rather not have your brother find you in such a compromising position with one of his friends, you begrudgingly lift your head from Jake’s chest.

“We should probably head back out there.” You say with little enthusiasm. “My brother’s gonna think you kidnapped me and send out a search party.” 

You grumble, pouting as Jake’s hand lightly caresses over your hair. Cute. 

He laughs at your sour expression and hums in agreement, sitting up on the couch. The movement of his body taking you with him as you’re still wrapped around him.

Jake ponders if he should maybe tell you about Bradley warning all of the men at his wedding away from you—but ultimately decides against it as you seem so content, so at ease with him. He didn’t want to ruin your good mood or cause problems between you and your brother. And, he really likes you. He doesn’t want to fuck this up.

Maybe he’d tell you one day when Bradley is really pissing him off, he thinks to himself with a smirk.

Jake helps you to your feet before standing up himself and stepping back into his boxers. He tells you to wait a moment while he runs into the bathroom that’s at the back of the room. 

While you’re in the midst of securely clasping your bra back over your chest, Jake returns with a damp cloth, kneeling down to gently clean up his cum that’s now dried down the inside of your thighs, leaving a soft kiss to the skin of your hip. 

Once you’re all cleaned up, Jake helps you step into your lace underwear, bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder for balance as your legs still feel a bit like Jell-O after the earth-shattering orgasms he had given you.

He stands to help you back into your bridesmaid’s dress, leaning down to place featherlight kisses to your shoulder blades as he closes up the zipper. Jake even helps smooth down your hair—surely a mess from your earlier activities and his hands running through it—leaving a chaste kiss to your lips before he moves to re-dress himself. This time forgoing his tie in favor of stuffing it into his pocket. 

With your heels strapped around your ankles once more, you let Jake lead you out of the suite. Your hand joined with his and your cheek resting against his shoulder as you navigate your way, side by side, back to the ballroom. 

When you reach the double doors, you tug at Jake’s hand to stop him before he can open them. The blonde’s cute, inquisitive look reminds you of a golden retriever puppy and it makes your heart flutter. You reach up to cup his cheeks, pulling him in for a brief, but passionate kiss.

“Sorry, I just really wanted to do that again.” You tell him with a nervous laugh and he lets out a satisfied groan.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” Jake pulls you back in and you can feel the smirk on his lips as he attaches them to yours. The two of you spend the next few minutes just standing there, making out outside of the entrance to the ballroom. 

Mouths moving languidly together, and you don’t hesitate to grant Jake’s tongue access when it runs along the seam of your lips. Tongues swirling lazily around one another trying to memorize the taste. When you finally pull back, your lips are swollen, and both you and Jake are beaming.

The reception is coming to an end, and you make it back into the slowly emptying ballroom just in time to see the happy newlyweds making their rounds about the room, accepting congratulations and thanking their guests for coming. 

As they come across you and Jake, Natasha is all smiles while Bradley’s expression drops into one of annoyance, his hazel-eyed glare directed at Jake. 

Never one to be intimidated by his best frenemy, Jake’s mouth forms into that distinctive smirk, extending the hand that wasn’t holding yours toward your brother.

“Congratulations, Rooster.” Jake speaks confidently. The two of them shake hands, not dissimilar to how they did after the success of the Uranium mission. Except this time, Bradley isn’t smiling.

By the happy look on your face and the fact that you’re not glaring at him—or trying to hit him—Bradley realizes that Jake must not have told you about his earlier warning to his groomsmen. Though he’s still annoyed with Jake for going against his wishes, he guesses that’s for the best. Maybe Natasha was right.

“Thanks, man.” Bradley’s face softens just barely. 

“But, just know, if you hurt my little sister, I won’t hesitate to shoot your plane out of the sky. We clear?” Your brother continues, still shaking Jake’s hand all the while. Natasha watches the whole exchange, trying not to laugh.

“Bradley-!” Eyes widening, you try to intercept but Jake stops you, giving your hand a light squeeze.

“No, no. It’s okay, Sweets.” You can hear the mirth in his voice when he says it, knowing he’s going to get a reaction out of Bradley.

“SWEETS?!” Your brother all but shrieks, ripping his hand away from Jake’s as if he’s been burned and Natasha is no longer able to hold back her laughter. The pouty glare he gives her in return ends up pulling a snicker out of you too. Jake chuckles haughtily and wraps an arm around your shoulders before addressing your brother again.

“I’m not gonna do anything to hurt her, Bradshaw. I promise. You have my word.” You smile sweetly up at Jake, delighted by his words. 

Your brother grumbles in agreement, recognizing the sincerity in his friend’s voice in that moment, before the two of them shake hands once more. Then, Jake offers the bride a hug and his congratulations, and tells you he’ll give you a moment with you brother, that he’ll be waiting for you by the exit.

With Jake making his exit, your brother’s face finally softens as he turns his attention to you. 

That is, until he glances down a bit and you know that he’s clocked the very obvious hickey blooming on the side of your neck when his expression hardens again. You can swear you see his eye twitch and you have to refrain from laughing. Luckily, for both of your sakes, he doesn’t bring it up.

Bradley just sighs before shaking his head. For the first time since the breakup, his little sister looks genuinely happy and if that’s the case, then he’s happy too.

“Hangman… really?” He scrunches his nose and at that, you simply shrug at him with an amused grin.

Your brother groans, “I don’t know what happened, and I don’t wanna know.”

“Deal.” The two of you share a laugh and Bradley pulls you into a tight bear-hug, which you return gratefully.

“Love you, sis.” He murmurs into the crown of your hair. “Love you too, Bradley.”

Natasha watches the sweet moment between her new husband and sister-in-law with a smile.

“I’m really happy for you, big bro. And so proud. Mom and Dad would be too.” Your arms tighten around him as you quietly deliver the sentiment.

You turn your gaze toward Natasha to let her know that you’re now addressing her as well. “Congratulations!”

When Bradley releases you from his embrace, Nat pulls you in for a hug as well. With that, they bid you goodnight and make your way back over to Jake who’s waiting for you by the ballroom doors.

Bradley opens his arm for his wife to step under, which Natasha does gladly, her own arm draping around Bradley’s waist as his moves to wrap around her shoulders. The couple watches on as you cross the room to reach the cockiest member of the Dagger squad.

“I actually think they’re kinda cute together.” Natasha’s tone is a jesting one, but there’s definitely some truth to her statement. Bradley just tilts his head up toward the ceiling, eyes clenched shut as he groans in response.

With the festivities coming to a close, you find yourself incredibly tired. After such a long day–and all the exertion with Jake that evening, you’re more than ready for a good night’s sleep. Fortunately for you, everyone was staying in the hotel at which the reception was held, so it wasn’t a long commute. 

Despite your increasing exhaustion though, you were reluctant to bid Jake goodnight.

“So… I guess, if you want, you could walk me to my room? Or…” You trail off, leaving the ball in his court. A tad nervous now, blinking up at him with a bright-eyed, hopeful expression, unsure if Jake will get the hint. 

But he definitely does, and the expectant look on your beautiful face makes him smile. What you don’t know is that Jake isn’t quite ready for his time with you tonight to come to an end either.

“Or… you could come back to mine?” He finishes the sentence for you, his grin morphing into more of a smirk, but his tone remains sincere. Placing your hands on his chest, you lean up to peck Jake’s lips.

“I’d love to.” You speak softly against his lips and Jake can feel you smiling. “Just don’t tell my brother.”

Your cheeky remark has Jake letting out a throaty chuckle, his breath warming your cheek before he briefly presses his lips to yours more firmly.

“How else am I gonna piss him off?” Jake jests and you retreat from the kiss, playfully smacking his chest. Shaking your head as the two of you share another laugh. His hands move to slide up the bare skin of your arms as you pull back and Jake can feel the goosebumps forming there.

He removes his suit jacket, leaving him in just his dress shirt, and carefully drapes it over your shoulders. The coat dwarfs your smaller frame, and Jake decides he loves the way you look all wrapped up in his clothes.

“Come on, Sweets. Let’s get you to bed.” Jake softly drawls. The look you give him is one of pure adoration as he takes your hand in his and leads you out into the halls of the hotel.

And though you’re most definitely tired, you have an inkling you’d be more than okay with spending a couple more hours wide awake with Jake when you get up to his room.

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Thank you for reading! x

Part two

Taglist: @sebsxphia @wkndwlff @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87

also tagging a few others who reblogged the sneak peek of this story:

@sunlightmurdock @rosiahills22 @gigisimsonmars @wildxwidow @sarkasfics @roosters-girl <3

[sometimesanalice]

Up the Ante

Summary: Rooster had heard the whispers. He knew what the stories were about- the ones that had followed him and Hangman around for years. You, however, are more than happy to find out for yourself if all the rumors were true.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader x Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Length: 9K+

Warnings: Smut. So. Much. Smut. (MINORS DNI)

(author's note: I regret nothing. Enjoy!)

Leave it to Jake Seresin to fuck up his plans.

Rooster had been in a really great mood when he’d arrived to the Hard Deck earlier that night. He’d beat most of the team there and had been on his way to go claim the pool table before the Friday night rush when he’d seen you out of the corner of his eye sitting at the bar.

He’d nearly given himself whiplash trying to get a better look at you. And then the next thing he knew, he’d found his feet taking him up to the stool right next to you. The mission to get the pool table completely forgotten.

And he still didn’t know how it was possible, but you were even prettier up close.

Even with the low dip of your creamy silky looking tank top, with all your skin taunting and teasing him, his eyes had stayed on yours the whole time as the two of you talked. That smile of yours was a bit too knowing. He could sense you were waiting, daring him to slip up.

Just for fun, just to see.

Yeah, you had his number alright. There was no question about it.

And fuck, if he wasn’t already down to let you toy with him whichever way you wanted. His cock twitching in his already slightly too snug jeans when he’d caught you checking him out after he’d ordered a fresh round of drinks from Jimmy.

The busier the bar got, the closer the two of you were pushed together as the other patrons clamored around waiting to place their orders. His forearm grazing against your exposed back from where he had it braced on your stool to keep you from getting jostled by thirsty sailors.

He’d stepped away for a moment when Natasha had called him over to back her up in a game with Reuben and Mickey. He he’d left you with a promise to be back, not wanting to come on too over bearing by not giving you any time to yourself. The groundwork was laid and he didn’t mind the wait.

He could be patient, he knew a good thing when he saw it.

And of course, when he’d looked back over his shoulder. There was Hangman with his elbow leaning on the bar, standing in the spot he’d just vacated. And looking at you like the cat who’d caught the canary with that fucking toothpick dangling from the corner of his mouth.

Rooster really shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d felt the other aviator’s gaze on him as he’d talked to you, could sense him waiting in the wings ready to make his move.

After the Uranium Mission, their tentative truce had grown into a casual camaraderie. But that didn’t mean they still didn’t enjoy riling each other up.

Jake had a tendency to steal his beer when he wasn’t looking, swapping it out with his empties behind his back. Not to mention, the way he liked to rack up a bill of Bradley’ tab.

And Bradley had no problem unplugging Penny’s jukebox approximately two minutes after watching Jake feed the machine his quarters before taking over on the piano. Playing whatever songs made the other man grimace the most.

But it had been years since they’d done this.

When the two of them had first met, their competition to be the best and one-up the other had spilled over from the skies into pretty much everything else. If one had flight simulation scores were topping the chart, then the other was figuring out how beating it. If one was benching a personal record, the other was already tacking on extra weight to their own.

So then, if one was talking to a pretty girl at the bar, the other was usually waiting for his moment to try and out charm, out talk, or out smile the other behind his back.

Or in front of his face.

Neither of them had cared to play fair back then. The bragging rights plastered across the winners face the next morning on base.

Rooster thought he’d made his intentions very clear. For all intents and purposes, he had claimed dibs. Well, as much as he could on a woman who was fully entitled and capable making her own decisions.

Now he was half way across the bar, watching as Hangman threw his cowboy hat into the ring.

“Jesus, Rooster. Stare any harder and you’re going to strain something, man,” Payback teased as he lined up his shot, before sending the freshly racked balls scattering on the pool table.

Bradley doesn’t respond, just brings the lukewarm beer to his mouth and downs the remaining few swigs. His hand tightening around the bottle as you throw your head back to laugh at something that Hangman has said, the sight of your exposed throat makes his mouth go dry.

“You know what they say, the more the merrier. I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time, right?” Fanboy says with a laugh that gets cut off with a wheezy, breathy oof.

Looking over his shoulder, Bradley sees Phoenix looking down at Fanboy shaking her head at him as she dropped a couple there-there pats on the doubled over man’s back.

“Please that rumor has been around for years,” Nat stated, “Before we got called back, those two could barely be in the same airspace, let alone in the same bedroom.”

“I don’t know, I bet there’s more to that story. I heard-” Payback starts.

This time, Bradley turns around and raises an eyebrow. The conversation quickly finds a new subject, and he goes back to glaring at the back of Hangman’s head.

He wasn’t unaware of the pointed looks and whispers that had followed him and Seresin around.

Everyone seemed to have their own opinions on the topic. They did. They didn’t. A friend of a friend had seen them leave with a girl. A buddy said they saw them fighting in the parking lot over who got to take her home.

He didn’t care about the speculation, he’d even heard some pretty interesting drunken theories along the way. Any tips to sneak a girl in the barracks for a hookup in the laundry room? How can three people even fuck in the back of a Bronco? Or his favorite, I heard y’all did the Eiffel Tower in the ATC tower.

But he wasn’t one to feed the fire. He didn’t know the other man’s reasons for not indulging the curious questions, but Hangman must have felt the same way, since neither one of them had yet to confirm or deny the story.

It was easier to just grin and shrug and leave them guessing.

From his spot stationed at the pool table he could see there was interest in your eyes at you looked at Seresin. Just as he’d seen it when you had looked at him with that same keen perceptiveness, the heat that lingered behind the teasing. And fuck, if that didn’t make him want you even more.

He liked a woman who went after what she wanted.

That pull low in his stomach had been there since he’d first seen you and had only gotten worse as he watched Jake try and get under his skin.

It would be almost comical the way the asshole turns his head just enough in his direction to shoot him a wink before settling his hand on the top of your thigh, if it didn’t make his blood thrum hot in his veins.

“Bradshaw, it’s your turn.” He hears one of them try and get his attention, but 8-Ball wasn’t what he wanted to play right now.

He had a stake in a different game going on.

If you wanted Hangman over him, he would respect that. But he sure as shit wasn’t going to fold, not when he still had a hand worth playing.

“And there’s the cock walk…” he hears Nat mutter as pushes off the pool table to make his way across the bar.

He knew how to turn heads and how to work a room. But there was only one head he wanted to turn, only one person in the room he wanted to work. He was going to his damndest to ensure it was his bed you’re in tonight.

Bradley is downright shameless in the way he struts right up to the two of you. Letting his chest brush up against you as he claims the seat next to you. He murmurs your name low and raspy as he settles into the stool, catching the way your hips shift subtly in response. That pull behind his bellybutton only intensifying.

You don’t look surprised to see him, if anything you look intrigued. That full bottom lip pinned between your teeth, your cheek ticked up like you’re fighting back a satisfied smile.

“Well if it ain’t Rooster,” Hangman drawls, those dimples deepening with every passing moment, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Bagman,” he grunts taking the whiskey from his hand. Feeling smug when your eyes latch on to his throat, watching as he swallows it down, savoring the warm burn of the free drink before he presses the empty glass back into the other man’s hand. “Looks like you’ve scored yourself another admirer, pretty girl. How’s he measure up? You can be brutally honest, it’d be good for him to keep his ego in check.”

You tilt your head at him, “So far I’ve got no complaints.”

“Damn straight you don’t,” Jake winks.

“How generous of you,” Rooster says, ignoring the other man completely, as he sets his hand on your leg.

He has always been a sucker for a pretty troublemaker.

Your tongue dips out to lick the rim of your glass, before taking another sip of the drink that he didn’t buy for you. “Oh, I can be very generous,” you all but purr.

“I bet,” Hangman cuts in, looking on entirely too pleased with himself.

Rooster leans in closer to you, “I thought I was the one buying your drinks tonight.” He can smell the faintest hint of your perfume, and he has to hold himself back from the urge to run his nose along the column of your neck to get a better whiff of it.

“I’m an equal opportunity drink receiver,” you say with a little shrug of your shoulder.

“Mhm, sounds good for the economy,” he allows.

“I do love to support small businesses.”

“There’s nothing small about it, baby,” Bradley says sliding his palm up higher on your thigh than would be considered decent. From the corner of his eye he can see Hangman clocking the movement. That shit eating grin going from teasing to knowing as he flips that stupid toothpick in his mouth.

“Was wondering how long it was going to take you to make a move,” Jake says reaching under your stool and pulling it out further from the way you’d been half tucked underneath the bartop. “Thought you were gonna just keep staring all night.”

“Nah, just thought I’d give you a fair shot. You know, since you usually rub people the wrong way,” Rooster smirks.

“Oh, now you and I both know I’d treat her just right,” Hangman says smoothly, not missing a beat. “You think you can keep up with a pretty thing like her, old man? Wouldn’t want to keep you from your Dan Brown novel or anything.”

“I’m sure I got a thing or two I could show you, son.”

The other pilot takes your chin between his thumb and finger turning your head to look at him, that grin bigger than ever, “You up for settling something between us, darlin’?”

Rooster is close enough to hear the hitch in your breathing and definitely close enough to see the way your thighs squeeze together.

“I guess that’s one way to up the ante,” you say as you reach up to pluck that toothpick from his mouth and popping it in yours instead. Grinning slyly around it as you uncross your legs to turn back towards him, your eyebrow cheekily cocked up and questioning.

Rooster’s eyes drift over to Seresin’s mouth. That cocky smirk plastered on his face takes him back to another time, on another night similar to this, when his lips had been slick-shined and that smile just as smug and self-satisfied.

He’s not sure how many bills he tossed on top of the bar before he grabbed your hand and tugged you off the stool, towing you with him as he strode to the door. Not bothering to check and see if the other man is following them, he already knows where he’ll be.

Bradley holds the door open for you to step through under his arm and the last thing he sees before he lets the door close behind him is Nat’s shocked face and Fanboy’s fist punching the air as Jake trails after them.

You felt too hot.

Your breathing was already coming out in ragged, breathy pants.  

The ride to Rooster’s house in his bright blue Bronco had been a blur of flashing lights and warm summer air and a hand heavy on your knee. Content in the passenger’s seat, even as he sped fifteen miles over the speed limit, in the surety of knowing whose headlights were bright and beaming in the rearview mirror.

But the feeling of two hot mouths working their way up and down your neck was definitely not a blur.

They’d had you pinned up against Bradley’s front door the moment it had shut behind the three of you. Barely waiting for the snick of the lock turning before making their move.

You weren’t sure whose thigh was pressed between your legs, but the solid width of it was dizzying as you rocked against it. You feel almost too aware of every part of your body. Your skin sensitive and responsive to every graze and touch of their strong, capable hands as they coast over your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps and raised hair with every pass.

Squeezing your hips. Tangling in your hair. Gripping your ass.

Their hard bodies were so tightly crowded against yours, that you weren’t even sure at this point if your own legs were the ones keeping you up as they took what they wanted and gave what they wanted.

Your puffy, swollen lips tingling as they took turns claiming your mouth with theirs.

It’s a lot, but in the best of ways, to hear their combined moans and groans over the thundering of your pulse in your ears. Their leather and wood smoke scents mixing together in the most deliciously heady way. All their solid angles and ridges pressed against your soft curves.

You’re vibrating with anticipation- with want- as your heart flutters in your chest like a caged bird, its wings beating against the too tight confines of your ribcage.

It’s already so good and no one is even naked yet.

One of them wraps their thought provokingly large hand around your throat as pulls you in to meet their mouth, gentle yet firm. The taste of whiskey and the brush of a mustache against your upper lip giving Bradley away. While another hungry mouth glides its way along your collarbone. The graze and nip of sharp teeth has you breaking your kiss to gasp at the sensation. Only to be met with a new set of demanding lips, you can feel Jake’s smirk against your mouth the moment right before he slips you his tongue.

Your own hands are greedy to get their fill of them. Running along thick forearms and broad chests and straining zippers. You want to map out every contour of their sculpted bodies. Every new muscle you find only makes you want to discover more.

There’s a moment when you think your knees might actually give this time out when Hangman bends down to take your peaked nipple in his mouth through your thin top with a mischievous gleam in his green eyes as he looks up at you and then hollows out his cheeks. The sight and sensation of it makes you suck in a shattered breath. If it weren’t for that thigh, Rooster’s you know now, keeping you upright you very much would have been a boneless puddle on the floor.

“You still think you can handle the two of us?” Jake challenges you with a dimpled grin before pulling you back into his mouth. Your nails dig into the back of his neck to keep him there, and he has the audacity to hum around you. The vibrations of it pulsing and spreading and settling over your craving clit.

“Well?” Bradley asks teasingly when you try and fail to reply, his warm hand sliding up your stomach under your top to palm at your other breast. And whatever you were going to say evaporates at the feel of his calloused thumb scraping over your taut nipple.

His curls are a mess and that look on his face promises the best kind of trouble.

“Fuck. Fuck. B-bedroom. Now,” you stutter and stumble over your words, overcome and overwhelmed. You hear one chuckle near your ear and the other moan into your throat at the neediness in your voice.

The three of you are gracefully uncoordinated in way you work your way to Rooster’s bedroom. You let them manhandle your pliant body around the furniture and corners of his home. What should have been a fairly straight shot turned into a meandering mess as your back is met with walls and doorframes and mouth is met with seeking and searing kisses.

Their shirts and belts and shoes lost somewhere along the way. A trail of items to be found later, laid out like points on a treasure map.

Inside Bradley’s room, your distracted eyes catch on some black and white landscape prints hung on a dove gray wall and a California King pressed another. Minimal, modern, manly. You’d be more nosey if it weren’t for the way you’re caught between them, as Hangman licked up your neck and Rooster ran his tongue along the backs of your teeth.

Your skin erupts in goosebumps as the cool air of Bradley’s air conditioning wafts over your arms. Not that your low-cut top with its open back and flimsy straps offered much for warmth to begin with, which was exactly why you’d worn it in the summer heatwave.

One set of demanding hands works on the button of the fitted jeans that made your ass look great, while the other insatiable pair grabs at the hem of your top pulling it up and off of your body with silky ease. They work together in quiet tandem with such swift efficiency that leaves you almost entirely nude, with the exception of your barely-there panties, before their greedy eyes in no time at all.

“Don’t know what a desperate little thing like you is thinking by wearing white and lookin’ like an angel,” Jake drawls low and taunting against your ear, his breath warm as it sails down the column of your throat, “But since you like the color so much, I think you’d look even prettier wearing our come.”

The flickering flame in your body that had been lit before you’d even left the Hard Deck finally roars to life at his coarse and crude words. You’d almost be offended by them if they weren’t the reason heat explodes like a fireball low in your stomach. Devastating and all consuming.

The noise that tears out of you in response isn’t one you think you’ve ever made before. Your head whips towards him so fast it makes you a little unsteady on your already wobbly legs, and you feel Rooster’s fingers flex on your hips before you pull away.

There’s a wide grin plastered on Jake’s face, only a couple impeccably white and straight teeth away of being down right self-satisfied.

Smug, he’s so damn smug.

He has been ever since he saddled up to you at the bar, like he already knew how the night was going to end. And you don’t know whether you want to wipe that look off of Hangman’s pretty face or to taste those dimples on his cheeks.

You do neither.

Instead, you push Jake onto the edge of the bed, your hands going straight to his zipper to pull out his cock, then watch as that perfectly-perfect and perfectly-infuriating smile falls from his face as you sink to your knees and take him in your mouth and down to the hilt.

“Jesus Christ.”

It’s your turn to be smug now as you watch his Adam’s apple dip as he swallows hard.

Jake’s smirk is long gone, replaced with intense look as you pull off of him to lick and lave along the long vein on the side of his length, looking up at him from beneath your mascara darkened lashes, before drawing him back in your open mouth. He’s so handsome like this and it makes your stomach tighten and seize.

“So damn eager,” you hear Rooster croon over the slippery sounds of you’re making.

You feel confident and totally at home in your own skin under the appreciative eyes of the two men, with Hangman in front of you and Bradley mere steps behind you. The buzz from your tequila had worn off long ago, and the thrill you are feeling is a different kind of high.

You were already wet before you left the bar, but now you are soaked. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on, at least not for a very long time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Bradley could see the evidence of your arousal glistening between your thighs from the way you’re kneeling in front of Jake.

From the corner of you eye, you can see Rooster taking his time as he shucks off the rest of his clothes haphazardly before fisting himself in his big hand as he takes in the sensual scene in front of him. You can feel all the places his eyes linger and trail over, those flames in your stomach spreading over your body like a wildfire.

Grateful for the work Bradley did getting your jeans off earlier, you slip a hand into your panties to get your fingers on your aching clit. You whimper at the instant relief that you feel as you touch yourself. Keening in pleasure around Hangman’s cock, which makes him widen his legs and throw his head back to moan in response.

This wasn’t going to be some hook up cloaked in the cover of a dark room. No, you were going to be on full display for them, just as they’d be for you. And the thought of it up makes you clench against nothing.

You were something brilliant and radiant to look at and you knew it. You wanted them to look, you wanted their eyes to take their fill.

“You going to join, Rooster? Or are you back to sittin’ on that perch?” the blonde goads him, with a sharp smile. His voice strained around the edges of his words as his fists clutch at the fabric of the duvet cover beneath them. “I’m sure you can find some way to keep yourself occupied even though her mouth busy at the moment.”

You reach up with your free hand and give that chain a little tug then dragging it down his chest, your nails digging slightly into his firm pecs before scraping down his abs. He surprises you with a light thrust of his hips that has you settling that tricky hand on his tense thigh for better balance as you continue to work him.

“Just watching how our girl is touching herself,” Bradley replies as he walks over. He is such a sight with all that sunkissed skin on display. “So needy, she can’t even bother waiting her turn.”

You hollow your cheeks around Jake for good measure before releasing him from your mouth, to grasp him in your hand, treating him to a twist of your wrist, “Got tired of waiting, had to take matters into my own hands.”

You wanted them to touch you, to feel them everywhere. You wanted to be taken apart and put back together. You wanted to be thoroughly wrecked by them.

“That so, huh?” The way that Bradley’s smile ticks up makes you suck in a sharp breath, your restless fingers making sloppy circles against that sensitive part of you at the sight of it. “Tell me, how wet are you?”

He looks so good standing next you from your position on your knees and if both of your hands weren’t already busy you’d be reaching out for his heavy cock.

“Why don’t you come find out for yourself?” you dare him, arching your back a little for his benefit.

“But you look so pretty taking care of yourself,” Rooster says cupping your cheek in his hand, then turning his head to the man seated on the bed, “Hey, Seresin, don’t you remember her saying something about her generosity?”

They grin at each other before looking back down at you, and it’s all you can to not squirm under their weighty, heated gaze.

“You know, that does seem to ring a bell, Bradshaw.” A wolf trussed up like the boy-next-door.

“Why don’t you show us just how generous you can be, pretty girl,” Rooster says reaching down pulling your hand out from your panties, his hand wrapped around your forearm, and offers up your shiny fingers to the man you’re kneeling in front of.

Hangman holds your gaze as his tongue reaches out to meet them. Your already erratic heartbeat sets a new rhythm as it slips and glides in a sensual show around them before curing around them to draw them into his cocksure mouth. A deep satisfied hum emanating from his chest as he tastes you.

Bradley releases his hold on you and skims his fingers up along your arm and up the side of your neck, massaging that tapered divot at base of your skull.

Your jaw falls open as you watch Jake bob his head on your fingers like you had been doing on his cock not even five minutes earlier. He shoots you a filthy wink was you watch the debauchery up close in personal, leaning in closer, mesmerized by the sheen of spit coating your fingers. He pulls them from your mouth with one more lewd lick, and then crooks his pointer finger under your chin and turns your head towards Rooster.

“Why don’t you be a sweet little thing and show Bradshaw what he’s missing out on, darlin’,” Jake says, its less of a suggestion and more of a command. One you are happy to oblige.

You hold your tongue out for Rooster in an open invitation and he rumbles his approval.

“Now that’s a pretty picture,” Bradley murmurs, but doesn’t move any closer. He waits for your dazed eyes to meet his heated ones, before nodding his head towards Hangman, who you’re still pumping him with long, smooth strokes, “Go on then, finish what you started. I can wait.” You make a noise of dissatisfaction at being denied the taste of him. He chuckles lightly, “I promise, we’ll take real good care of you soon.”

And with that promise you wrap your lips around Jake again. He spreads his legs wider to accommodate you as you reach to cup his balls in your hand, massaging them.

You feel Rooster settle his hand heavy on the crown of your head, his fingers threading in your hair, before pressing you forward, guiding the motion of your mouth on Jake’s cock. Encouraging you to take more, more, more before pulling you back, only to urge you forward once again.

It’s easy to lose yourself and relax into the push and pull of it as you let them take over. Letting them use you how they want, preening under their crooning praise. Hangman is looking down on you with half-lidded eyes and gives you a slow, wide smile when a thick thread of saliva drips on to your sternum and down your chest.

Your attention-seeking clit throbs in time with your rapid pulse, whimpering pitifully when you can’t get any relief no matter how you shift and squirm.

Then Bradley is tugging on your strands to get you on your feet and meets you for a heady kiss. He hooks his thumbs under the band of your panties and pulls them down your legs, a little lacy heap to decorate his floor.

“Get on the bed, baby.”

Yes, yes, oh yes.

Jake shoves his jeans down the rest of the way and kicks them off. The way he climbs on the bed is all easy grace as he props himself against the headboard. You’re quick to clamber up on your hands and knees between his legs, looking over your shoulder for Rooster’s nod of approval before you lean down to take him back in your mouth.

There has been so much build up. You know that they’ve been easing you into this in their own way, but you’re so desperate for more. You’re like balloon overfilled and taut, one right touch and you might burst.

“God, you’re already so wet.” You feel Bradley’s rough squeeze on the backs of both your thighs followed by the comforting caress of his thumbs, “C’mon, show me that pretty pussy. Let me see it.”

You tilt your hips up, up, up- you want, you need- offering yourself to him until you’re treated to his tongue on you. At last. His wide long licks have you canting your hips further searching for more. The feeling of his lips and mustache against that delicate part of you makes you cry out in satisfaction.

“So greedy,” Jake teases, as his thumb runs gently along your jawline.

He is hot and heavy on your tongue. There is a light sheen of sweat coating his chest, his abs flexing and contracting with every uneven breath. That chain around his neck winking at you from the lamp in the corner of the room. He called you an angel earlier, but he’s the one who looks like sweet sin, a heavenly hedonist.

The filthy sounds of your messy mouth and Rooster’s satisfied groans filling the room as you work one pilot and the other works you. You can feel your orgasm building swiftly, those flames from before being stoked by their grasping hands and teasing lips and dirty words.

The shock of the feeling two of Bradley’s thick fingers glide and curl into you without any resistance, of having something inside of you for the first time all night, sends your body jolting forward. Your hands clutching at the sheets as you sputter and gag around Jake.

“Holy shit,” he pulls you off of him with a pop, a line of spit stretching from your mouth to his glistening cock, “Don’t want to come in your mouth.” Hangman takes your head between his big hands, cradling you carefully. “Goddamn, look at you. You feelin’ good?” It’s all you can do to rapidly nod your head yes. “You should see her, Rooster, she’s real close.”

You hear Bradley chuckle huskily behind you, “And we’ve barely even gotten started.” He targets that spot in you with merciless precision as he scrapes his mustache along your spine dropping kiss after wet kiss. “Now, come on my fingers like a good girl.”

And with his raspy voice in your ear and Jake’s tongue in your mouth, you shatter.

It’s all white noise as one of the maneuvers you gently on to your back as you come down. The feeling of the cool sheets a welcomed sensation on your heated skin. Even though you’re still reeling, you can hear the warmth in their voices as your mind clings to a few select words.

Good. Perfect. Soft. Sweet. Pretty. Generous.

You feel a body shift above you, their sturdy weight only an echo of what it could be if they weren’t holding themselves aloft. Your eyes float open to see Rooster caging you on his bed within the shelter of his sculpted arms.

Next to you Jake is propped up his side, the graze of his fingertips is featherlight as they meander up and down the length of your arm. As if he is content to simply be touching your soft skin.

“You still having fun?” Bradley asks with a knowing smile on his face. Using his thumb, he wipes at some of the saliva smeared under your bottom lip.

“The most,” you grin, turning your head to capture it between your lips.

Rooster watches you in rapt as you suck, giving his thumb the same treatment as you’d given Hangman’s cock, all wet tongue and hollowed out cheeks. The pupils of his pretty brown eyes blown wide. His cock resting heavy on your stomach.

“We’re gonna make a mess out of you,” Bradley promises as he presses his thumb down on your tongue. You look up at him with your best doe-eyes, parting your mouth to give him a better view of the way it pillows around his thumbpad. He applies a bit more pressure with a smirk before removing it from your mouth completely.

“Yes, please.”

He leans in close and your eyes flutter shut at the anticipation of the brush of his lips on yours.

And then he spits right in your waiting mouth.

“Atta girl.”

His smile grows at the whine that comes out of you. He drops a kiss to your forehead and stands back up, towering over you. It’s a visual feast of abs and broad shoulders and tan skin and mischievous eyes. “Pretty sure you almost made Jake see God,” he says looking over, giving the other man a lazy smirk.

“Fuck off,” he says without heat and laughs. Leaning over from where he’s been lounging next to you, he wraps his hand around the nape of our neck and pulls you in, licking deep into your mouth wet with his pre-come and Rooster’s spit. “How’s about you finally show Bradshaw what that pretty mouth can do, while I settle up and repay the favor.”

You don’t know what to make of the look that passes between the two men as they switch spots. It’s a challenge, it’s a dare. You’re still loose-limbed from your orgasm, but you can feel the tension starting to coil low in your stomach again at the glint in their eyes as Bradley crowds up next to you on the bed while Jake stands at the end of it.

Rooster kisses up along your body, his tongue darting out to taste the beads of sweat that are collecting in the valley of your breasts. If you listen closely you can still hear the whir of the air conditioning, but it’s not of much use when you feel like an inferno.

You sigh out when his mouth meets yours. You grasp his face between your hands to keep him close, not wanting to be denied his lips again. Your thumb stroking at the cleft of his chin. Finally. Finally. Finally. You feel like spun sugar, the wet slide of his lips against yours makes you feel like you’re about to dissolve into sweet nothingness.

There’s no hesitation in the way that Hangman situates himself between your parted legs, easing one over his shoulder and then the other. He trails butterfly kisses from your knee and up the inside of your leg. You shiver at the sensation, luxuriating in his touch.

“Condoms?” Jake asks into the crease of your thigh.

You shake your head and let go of Bradley’s face to tap at the spot on your upper arm where that flexible piece of plastic is placed under the skin. They nod their understanding, their agreement.

At least someone still had their feet on the ground, because it feels like your head is in the clouds.

“Thought you said I’d look prettier covered in come?” you try to tease but it just comes out breathy, throwing Hangman’s own words from earlier back at him. Then turning your head to look at Rooster next to you, “Thought you were going to make a mess out of me?” 

You know you’re playing with fire. However, you also know that if at any point you couldn’t handle the heat that they would haul you out of the kitchen themselves.

But why stay out of the kitchen when you can just set it on fire yourself?

“Jesus,” Jake curses and nips at your hipbone.

“Fuck’s sake, you really can’t help yourself, can you?” Bradley huffs amused but strained, his eyes raking over you.

The nope and the ‘P’ you were planning to pop gets stuck in your throat as Hangman pins your legs open to the bed, holding you down so you can’t escape his tongue as he licks a hot stripe through the center of you. Your jaw drops open wordlessly.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” Hangman grunts and then dips his tongue into you again.

One of your hands flies into his sandy blonde hair, while the other reaches out for the sunkissed man next to you. The feeling of Rooster’s fingers lacing between your outstretched ones grounding you as the pressure starts building again.

Where Bradley had been all enthusiastic delving and relentless devouring, Jake is all honed accuracy as he flicks and circles and sucks your clit. There’s no slow build up, he’s not content to simply let you sail smoothly into your next orgasm, not with the way his fingers are working you. No, Jake is set on being the one to push you over that edge himself. And he’ll do it with a blinding white smile and a tip of his hat.

Bradley moves to kneel by your head, stroking his thick cock a few times before offering it to you. The groan that comes out of him when you lick the underside of him before taking him in your mouth is quite possibly one of the hottest sounds you’ve ever heard in your life. His large hand comes to cradle your jaw as you bob up and down on his length.

It doesn’t take long until you’re keening and moaning around him as you come alive under their eyes and touch.

“You look so pretty like this,” Rooster murmurs, his thumb alternating between gliding around your stretched lips and caressing your bulging cheek. “You’re taking my cock so well.”

You know you’re making a mess out of him, but if anything, you feel him grow even harder in your mouth as you take him further into your throat. The sounds coming from you obscene as you lick and suck and swallow around him. You’re trying to stay focused on taking care of him, but Hangman’s tongue and fingers are making it hard for you to concentrate.

Jake is relentless with the two fingers he has working inside of you. His other hand smooths up your torso, long fingers stretched wide, as if he is trying to touch as much of you as possible. And then he’s grabbing at your breasts, massaging one and then moving to the other.

It’s getting overwhelming with so many points of pleasure all vying for your undivided attention. You feel so good, too good. Your chest is tight with want it’s getting harder to take a full breath, the shallow shaky things you’ve been taking making you lightheaded.

You blindly mouth at Rooster’s cock and balls and thighs, whatever you can reach and latch onto as you let your hand take over stroking him. Just for a moment, just to catch your breath.

You whimper when Bradley pulls away from you, only to feel his big body slide down on the bed next to you, his warm hands soothing over your too tight skin.

“That mouth too much for you, Rooster?” Jake grins with shiny lips before slipping a third finger into you, curling them against your front wall, making you keen.

“I know, it’s a lot, but you’re keeping up with us like a champ,” Bradley says to you, pulling you in for a kiss. He reaches down for one of your thighs, pulling it off the other pilot’s shoulder and over his own hip, holding you open. His hand knocks Hangman’s thumb out of the way and his takes over making nonsensical patterns on your clit, making you moan at the contact. “And you should go back to making yours more useful,” he lobs back to the man between your legs. 

In your haze, you wonder how they can even share the skies if they’re this competitive in the bedroom.

“Yeah, and what’s yours doin’ up there?” Jake asks, giving it right back to him. You can hear how wet you are as his fingers slide in and out of you, as the Bradley picks up the pace of his movements against you.

“Someone’s got to tell her how good she’s doing,” you can hear the smile in Rooster’s voice as he kisses your neck. He gently runs his lips and mustache along the shell of your ear, “We know how much she like a compliment.”

“Bradley.” The admonishment is lost in your gasp as the faintest graze of his fingernail again your sensitive clit has your back arching off the mattress and your hips bucking against both sets of hands.

“You sound so wrecked, baby. I like how my name sounds in your mouth when you’re all fucked out like this.”

“And those whimpers? I swear, she making the sweetest sounds I’ve ever heard,” Hangman tacks on.

You want to give as good as you’re getting, but your hurtling towards that point again. Already teetering back and forth, almost but not quite there. Overwhelmed, oversensitive, but still needing, wanting...

“More, I need more, Jake,” you’re not quite begging but you’re close, your heel is digging into his shoulder blade, urging him closer. “Jake, I want to come.”

Your clit is aching under Rooster’s teasing touch, and you are squirming and shifting and rocking trying to get more of Jake’s fingers inside of you. You groan when Jake pulls them out of you completely, stopping your motions with a rough grip on your hips. Somewhere in the back of your mind you find yourself hoping that you’ll still be wearing his fingerprints tomorrow morning.

“Nu-uh, greedy girl, you’ll take what we give you,” Hangman says as he stands up and wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand, a streak of your wetness shining on his cheek.

And then his thick cock is pushes into you and all the air leaves your lungs.

His thrusts are measured and slow and sure. Filling you up and then leaving you empty, over and over and over again. His fingers are still digging into your hips leaving you at his mercy, to take what he gives you. Nothing more and nothing less than what he wants.

You didn’t know All-American Texan boys could pull of such a dirty look of pure debauchery, but he wore it so damn well.

There’s no holding back the noise of frustration that comes out of you when Rooster’s teeth graze over your breast, before he sucks your nipple into his hot mouth. He is hard and hot as he grinds himself against the curve of you.

It would be so, so good if didn’t felt like you were bobbing along in a wooden barrel waiting for a drop over Niagara Falls. The anticipation of that freefall thrumming in your veins, but one that never seems to get any closer as you dangle there.

“Stop teasing me,” you whine.

Jake pushes into you with that same devasting slowness and then stops, his hips pressed tightly against yours. “I’m inside you, aren’t I?” he challenges with a raise of his eyebrow.

You don’t want to agree, what you want is to come. With great effort on your part you reluctantly nod your head, hoping your cooperation will get him to speed up or go harder. You’d literally anything to stop feeling like a butterfly with its wings pinned open and preserved.

“Then I ain’t teasin’.”

Those dimples are on full display, as he pulls out leisurely, letting your feel every bit of him, and then pounds into you.

You’re thankful when he takes pity on you and the rolling of his hips picks up. Harder, faster, deeper. His chest is flushed pink, making that golden chain stand out even more. A bead of sweat works its way down his neck, between his defined pecs, and travels along the contours of his sculpted body.

“Jesus, did you talk this much last time, Seresin?” Rooster asks, pulling his mouth off of you to watch as his own fingers and Hangman’s cock work together in sync between your thighs.

“And he said I was the mouthy one,” you all but pant out.

You tug on his curls trying to get him to put his mouth back on your breast, his spit cooling on your nipple making it pebble more than you thought possible. Instead, he just smirks down at you, and applies more pressure on your clit. Those nonsensical patterns transforming into tight devastating circles.

“I need… I need-”

“Such a bossy thing,” Jake mutters, “Only thing you need to be focusing on, darlin’, is falling apart for me.” The edge in his voice and the strain of his thighs as he thrusts into you the only things giving him away that he’s just as desperate as you are. “Rooster wants to watch you come. Isn’t that right, Bradshaw?”

“Sure do,” he agrees against the pounding pulse point on your throat. You don’t need a mirror to know the delicate skin is agitated from the coarse hairs of his mustache. The heat rolling off of him in waves is a contrast to the draft of the air conditioning hitting your body just right from the way he has you spread open over his hip. “I wanna see that pretty face as you come around his cock.”

Your fingers scramble to find something, anything to hold on to. Feeling like the seams of your skin, those silken threads of the last of your resolve, fray and snap. Rooster’s eyes holding yours as you start to unravel.

The sound of skin on skin fills your ears, followed by Hangman’s ragged breathing as you flutter and clench against him. “You feel so fucking good around me,” he moans, “Such a perfect pussy.”

Lightening hot pleasure races along your spine before shooting out along your muscles and tendons and ligaments, all the things keeping your body together. And your mind whites out as you come for them.

You feel Jake’s rhythm falter and stutter as he works to get himself closer of that place of perfect devastation, as you shutter and quake from the aftershock. He fucks into you harder chasing his own climax before emptying himself inside of you.

His cock buried so deep in you as you take his come. The two of you both breathing hard.

Bradley slips his wet fingers into your mouth and you lave the taste of yourself off of his skin almost in a daze as you wait for the gravity to settle into your weightless limbs. His lips are gentle as he trails soft kisses along your hairline, his hardness pressed against you a reminder there’s still more in store for you.

You whimper when Jake pulls out of you.

“Knew you’d look good like this,” he says running his hands along the tops of your thighs and watching as his come trickles out of you onto Bradley’s duvet.

Rooster takes his fingers from your mouth and nudges his nose against your heated cheek, “You still got more in you?”

He pulls away, those brown eyes searching yours.

“Want your cock,” you whisper and lean in for a kiss. He meets you with tenderness, while you meet him with heat. Licking into him the moment he parts his lips for you.

Hangman gives your thighs one last squeeze and lets go.

“Come ‘ere,” Rooster grunts as he shifts and pulls you on top of him, lining himself up with your dripping cunt. You don’t dare look away as he slowly feeds you the generous length of him, inch by inch.

You drape yourself across him and burry your face in that spot between his neck and shoulder at the stretch of him as he fills the space between your legs. Feeling the muscles of his arms wrapped around you. His wood smoke scent filling your nose. The salt of him on your tongue as you lick at the sweat that’s collected along the line of his collarbone.

It is dizzying being this surrounded by Bradley, he’s everywhere.

“How are you still so tight? You literally just took his cock,” he rasps.

You feel a hand brush back some of the hair from your face and you turn your head into the warm touch. When you open your eyes, you see Jake crouching there by the bed next to you, his green eyes filled with affection, “You doing a good job for Rooster too?”

“Yes,” you sigh as Bradley hums his agreement. The deep, languid roll of hips as he thrusts into you, working you open for his cock, is so good that it makes fingers dig into his biceps.

“Good girl,” he says, nipping at you ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Keep doing her like that, Rooster, her legs are startin’ to shake.”

And then he lands an open-handed slap to your ass that makes you clench and Rooster groan as he laughs lightly to himself, entirely too pleased.

It’s a masterpiece of teeth and tongues, moans and gasps, and dirty praise rumbled into ears. When that telltale tightness in your stomach starts, you begin rocking back against him desperately. Meeting him thrust for thrust. You’re so coiled in knots that not even the most seasoned sailor could untangle you.

You can feel your orgasm rising up to meet you. So close, so close.

And then choking down a sob as you’re pulled upright to a sitting position astride Bradley, with Hangman’s forearm banded around your waist and supported by his dewy chest.

“‘s too big,” you whimper.

“Ah, ah. There you go, you can take it,” Jake coaches into your ear as he encourages you to take more of Rooster’s cock. “You’re almost there. Just a little bit more.”

Bradley licks his lips as he watches you writhe and squirm above him until there’s no space between your bodies. His fingertips digging into your hipbones. The stretch of him making you ache in the best of ways, your eyes fluttering at the sensation of sinking impossibly further on him. Both hands braced on his chest, thumbs seeking the little patch of chest hair.

You lean your head back and are met with Jake’s mouth. His kiss filthy as his teeth graze against your full bottom lip and his tongue sweeps against yours.

There are no words for how full you feel, for how good you feel.

Bradley’s face and neck are flushed and his waves are a mess from your handiwork. And you’re struck again by just how handsome he is. You give him a roll of your hips, anticipating a thrust that doesn’t come. Your eyebrows pinch together and you try again to get him to meet you half way. Waiting, waiting, waiting for more.

“I want-”

“I know what you want,” Rooster croons as he cuts you off, sliding a hand up your pulled too taut body to palm at your breast. You whine when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and then tugs. “C’mon, want to see you ride me. That’s it, baby, use me to get yourself off.”

The wet, sticky sounds of your own arousal and Jake’s come are amplified in the quiet room as you fuck yourself on Bradley’s cock. The sweat is collecting behind your knees and along your hairline. You let your head lull back onto Jake’s shoulder, knowing he’ll keep you upright.

You want to be good for him. You want to be good for them.

Both men have been determined to wring every ounce of pleasure from your body and then asked for even more. The burn in your thighs so good as you rock and grind on the man beneath you, but you don’t know how much more you have left to give.

“Doing still alright, darlin’?”

You turn your head enough to mouth along Jake’s jawline and hope he takes it for the yes your tongue is too tired to say.

“Think our girl’s getting worn out,” Bradley says sympathetically, but is looking up at you with pride in his eyes.

 “You’ve been doing so well for us. How about you let Rooster and I take care of you now, huh?”

“Please.” It sounds pitiful even in your own ears, but you can’t be bothered to care too much at the moment.

You whimper quietly as Jake’s warm, heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades and presses you back down.

Bradley wraps his arms around you holding you close against his sweat-slicked chest. The tears prickle in the corner of your eyes as you tuck your head back into his neck, knowing that the two men are more than capable to get you there again. That they’ll take care of you.

That you can just feel, that you can just be, that you can just take.

“Hold her open for me, Bradshaw.”

You feel Bradley’s hands slide around you, grabbing rough handfuls of your ass. You’re exposed in a different way you’ve been all night, under Jake’s sharp, keen eyes that you can’t see but feel on you all the same, as the other man pumps in and out of you.

“You should see how she’s dripping down you, Rooster. That cunt is coating you real good.”

“I don’t need to see it, when I can feel it,” he pants against your ear. You want to remind them that it’s not just only your arousal alone that’s making a sure to be shiny mess along the length of him, but it’s all you can do to clutch at Bradley’s waves as he keeps building you up.

Of all the things you were experiencing in that moment, it’s no surprise that you miss the subtle ghosting of Jake’s warm breath over that pleated part of you, but it’s the feeling of his wet tongue skimming around the rim of it that send you reeling.

“Fuck me,” Rooster moans, his arms tightening around you, “Whatever you just did, do it again. She liked it. Didn’t you, baby?” You babble out something unintelligible as you fist his hair, but your vigorous nod can’t be interpreted for anything other than your enthusiastic consent. “Could feel that you did, gotta give our girl what she likes. She deserves it after being so good for us.”

His voice huskier, rougher than you’ve ever heard it. That slight accent that only sometimes made an appearance, finally out in full force.

You let out a strangled cry when Hangman does it again, your toes curling at the new feeling. You’ve never taken two men like that before, but even the idea of it makes you lightheaded.

From there you lose yourself in the dueling sensations. At Bradley’s ruinous, deep thrusts. Of his perfect cock hitting you just right, targeting that spot that has you quaking. Of Hangman’s tricky tongue circling, circling. And his thick finger pressing.

Circling, circling, pressing.

Circling, circling, pressing.

Circling, circling, pressing. Until-

“Ah!”

You bite down on that pretty scar on Rooster’s shoulder, needing something to keep you from feeling like you were going to fly away. From feeling like you could explode into nothingness. It’s a different kind of fullness, one that steals your breath even as it gives you life.

“That’s it, nice and easy, darlin’.”

There’s nothing nice or easy about the two men working you. The push and pull of them so in tune with each other, so set on making you see stars one last time.

“I can feel you’re there. Want you to come on this cock,” Bradley grits out, as he thrusts into you, his hands spreading you wider for his benefit and Jake’s. The tendon on is throat standing out in a way that makes your mouth water. “Come on, come for us.”

When you come with a cry, body shaking and back arching with devastating pleasure. It’s an orgasm that gives as much as it and takes and takes and takes.

Rooster is swift to follow after you with a couple more powerful thrusts, as he spills himself inside of you with a low, satisfied groan. You spasm and quiver and convulse around him, milking him with every tremor that dances through your thoroughly spent body.

When you come to, the first thing you’re aware of is how perfectly warm you are pressed between two hard bodies. The next is the delicious ache between your thighs and the mess there, as you grin to yourself with your eyes closed. Luxuriating in the endorphin rush as it washes over you.

A calloused thumb strokes your cheek.

“There she is,” you hear Jake say.

Someone’s long fingers thread between your own, squeezing your hand.

“Jesus, fuck,” you hear Bradley pant next to you, “How was that even better than last time?”

“More practice?” you offer, finally opening your eyes.

Both men look a sweaty mess, their hair a riot and their cheeks still pink from the exertion. And you know you probably aren’t faring much better, but it’s the warm affection and the easy smiles on their faces that sets your heart a racing again.

It’s been a little over four years since you had first met the two of them in Pensacola during a training contingent for a recon mission.

You were about to call it a night at the Navy bar near the base, mentally cursing whoever signed off on sending you to the state in the middle of a heat wave, when a broad man in a Hawaiian shirt had slid up to you at the bar. It would have been comical on anyone with less muscles, but he also had the smile to pull it off. You didn’t quite know what to make of it at first when the clean-cut blonde, the one with a mega-watt grin and a toothpick gripped between his teeth, had set a drink in front of you with a wink.

There wasn’t any way of missing the tension radiating between them, but you weren’t about to get caught in the middle of their petty pissing contest. You knew a rivalry when you saw one. And they were pilots after all, you knew their type.

It wasn’t until you held that chilled glass up to your overheated neck, catching the way they both tracked that bead of condensation as it traveled down your throat and disappearing between your cleavage, that you thought things could get interesting.

And well, it had escalated quickly from there.

“I haven’t even been here seventy-two hours yet, and I’ve already heard about your fabled hook up twice,” you say with a giggle, leaning your forehead on Jake’s shoulder.

“Mm, I’ve heard that rumor too,” Rooster chuckles.

“Who knew the Navy had so many damn gossips,” Hangman laughs, “I swear to god, they talk more shit than the little old ladies in my grandma’s knitting circle.”

Bradley picks up your entwined hands and brings them to his mouth, kissing your fingertips with a fond look in his eyes, “So how long are you here for?”

“Well, speaking of rumors,” you say conspiratorially, “Have you heard the one about a certain Chief Warrant Officer Bernie Coleman and the opening on his new strategic team for a permanent member?” The teasing smirk growing on your face as the realization dawns on them.

You had been treating yourself to a celebratory drink at the finalized paperwork and impending transfer when Rooster had spotted you sitting there earlier when the whole night truly began.

“Huh,” Bradley says with a sly smile, “Now that sure is one interesting rumor. The person who lands that gig must be very smart. Sounds like that certain someone would be the right person to settle a bet. ”

“Mhm and probably very full of good ideas,” you can’t help but preen.

“What do you say, Rooster, best two out of three?” Jake asks, with a cheeky gleam in his eyes, “You up for a little tiebreaker, darlin?”

You look from one to the other with a grin.

“I’m all in.”

In the immortal words of the Spice Girls "spice up your life" 💃🏼 Thanks for reading!

Many thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse and @laracrofted for their help!

This was written as part of @sushiwriterhere Threesomissance 2023 event!

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[beyondthesefourwalls]

Twin Fire Signs

Summary: When the majority of your squad intentionally leaves you drunk and alone at a bar, you resign yourself to finding your own way home and dealing with your wounded pride in peace. But then your phone rings, the name of the last person you expected to be calling you on a Friday night flashing on your screen. You know you shouldn’t answer, but too much tequila has never led to great decisions. 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: language, drinking

-------

—

You were drunk. 

There wasn’t really any denying it now, just like there was no denying that you were alone without any of the people you came here with. It took a complete lap of the bar and waiting outside of the bathrooms for an eyebrow raising amount of time for you to accept it, but it was an inevitable conclusion now: your team, your squad, had ditched you. By the looks they had exchanged in the ready room in the tower, you were sure the invitation had only been extended as a courtesy and that none of them had expected you to actually say yes. Which was fair, because up until this point, you hadn’t. But you decided to accept on a whim, high off the adrenaline from the phenomenal flying you had just done, mixed with a lapse in judgment and a previous night of feeling particularly lonely. You had been off-brand craving social interaction. Now, you were regretting it and remembering why you preferred being alone. They had bought you a few shots, and all it took was a quick trip to the bathroom for you to come back and all of them be just…gone.

You never should have let your guard down. 

There was a reason you had declined nearly every invitation from them to go out for drinks, and it wasn’t because of your desperate need to keep work separate from your private life. You knew the people on your squad were assholes, and you knew they didn’t like you all that much. You were the lone Lieutenant Junior Grade amongst a squad of Lieutenants. On top of that, the first woman of said rank to not only make it there, but be handed the trophy at the end of Top Gun. 

You were good. Very good. You knew it, and so did the rest of the squad you had been assigned to when, following your win, you were transferred from Corpus Christi and stationed at Top Gun permanently two months ago. You had come in and blown them all out of the water, and none of them particularly liked it. 

You should have known that something like this would happen tonight. 

You tried not to let it bother you as you plopped down on a barstool. The bartender, an older man tattooed from his bald head to the tips of his fingers, slid a glass of water in front of you with a roll of his eyes. You gave what you hoped was an appreciative thank you and hiccuped as you took your first sip. After downing half the glass and a handful of bar pretzels, you fumbled with your phone, looking through several rideshare apps to see which one would get you the cheapest and quickest ride home so you could sulk in private. 

You were debating if the extra ten bucks for a ride that would show up five minutes quicker was worth it when your screen switched over to an incoming call. Your eyes widened in shock at the name staring up at you. 

Lieutenant Seresin

Oh no. Oh no. 

It was almost 10pm on a Friday night and Hangman was calling you. And you were drunk. He hadn’t come out with you all tonight, but that wasn’t uncommon. If you were an outcast in one regard, he was an outcast in another. Your squad wanted little to do with you, but they worshiped him. But instead of humoring them, he spent the majority of his time with the special squadron he was also assigned to, who were spread out amongst other teams on base. 

You didn’t think that he'd said two words to you that weren’t criticism or a challenge since that day. So why the hell was he calling you now?

You considered not answering and letting the call go to voicemail. You stared at the name for so long weighing your options that the screen darkened as the vibrations stopped. You heaved out a sigh of relief, only to squeak in surprise when the phone started vibrating again. 

You tried to take a deep breath when you answered, a slightly high pitched “Hello?” being offered. You winced when it was quickly followed by a hiccup, and then another.

“Are you drunk?” 

Fuck.

“Um. Yes.” 

You winced at your answer. Being blunt was one of your many character flaws, but you probably could have tried to have a little more tact, considering who you were talking to. 

“Are you still at Lumpys?” 

“Yes,” you answered automatically, but your brows furrowed as your alcohol soaked brain processed his words. “Wait. How did you know that?” 

“Are you okay?” he asked, completely ignoring your question. The bar was so loud around you that you had a bit of trouble hearing him, but that last tequila shot must have done you in, because you could hear annoyance, certainly, but you thought maybe you heard concern, too. You took a gulp of your water to try and clear your mind, because there was no way. 

You must have taken too long to respond because he snapped out your name, your first name, and you almost gasped at the sound of it. You don’t think he’s ever actually said your name before; the deep timber of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. 

Oh no. 

Now was not the time for your thoughts to run away from you into that territory. 

“I’m drunk,” you said dumbly. 

You could practically feel the pause on the other end before he let out a sigh of your call sign that sounded almost angry. 

“Are you safe?” he asked, since you hadn’t directly answered his question on being okay. You took in your surroundings with a long glance, your normal ability to clock everything delayed. 

Lumpys wasn’t the nicest place. You had never even heard of it before tonight. It was dark and loud and smokey despite the laws prohibiting it in California. It definitely wasn’t a military bar, that was for sure. You wondered for the first time why the rest of the squad had chosen this spot when the Hard Deck was so close to base, as well as two or three other bars that were frequented by uniforms not of the biker variety. You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat when you realized that maybe they had done that on purpose, because you were coming with them and they knew they wouldn’t stick around. From the end of the bar, the bartender glanced at the water in front of you to see if a refill was needed before rolling his eyes again and looking away as he cleaned glasses. 

“Well,” you drew out, pushing down the unwanted emotions suddenly hitting you. “I can’t decide if the bartender is a giant tattooed teddy bear or a gang enforcer. Could go either way, honestly.”

He cursed on the other end and you thought maybe you heard the sound of a vehicle starting. You weren’t really sure, thinking maybe the loudness of the bar was making you hear things, but then his next words affirmed it. 

“Don’t move. I’ll come get you.” 

Your eyes widened and you sat up straighter in the barstool you had been slumped over in. “Wait, what?” 

“I’m coming to get you.” 

“No, no, you don’t have to do that. I was about to get an Uber or something-” 

He said your first name again, and it set butterflies loose in your stomach that you tried desperately to catch and put back in the box they came from. His voice lowered into something gentle, a tone you hadn’t heard in weeks from the fellow aviator. “Just hang tight. I’ll be there in 20, maybe less.” 

You thought about arguing with him and insisting that that wasn’t necessary and you could make your way home just fine by yourself. Even if you were sober, you’d have been in charge of finding your own way home tonight. Quarterback had given you a ride from base after work, and you had assumed you’d be able to catch a ride back, too. But he was long gone with the rest of your squad. 

“I…okay,” you finally said, accepting your fate. 

He hung up without a goodbye, and you were sure if this was a regular phone call, you’d roll your eyes at how rude the gesture was. But all you could focus on at this point was the sound of your name in his voice and the fact that he was apparently coming to get you. 

You were fucked. 

You chugged your water, some of it spilling down your chin in the process. When you set the glass down it was with a little too much force right as the bartender walked by. You winced at the annoyed look he shot you. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled. He refilled your water with a glare and without a word, moving onto other customers before you could say anything else. You took another gulp of it with a grimace and then set your head in your hand, taking in a deep breath. 

Your team leader, Hangman, Jake, would be picking you up from the bar, because the rest of your squad had abandoned you after you had taken a few too many shots. 

The same one who you had more respect for than anyone else, who you’ve also maybe harbored a crush on since you came to Top Gun, and who had barely looked at you since you almost kissed four weeks ago.

Great. 

Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin was a legend in the small population of aviators in the US Navy. He was truly the 1% of the 1%. You tried to model a lot of your own career and techniques after him. It helped that you seemed to be similar on an instinctual level, and you had the same indifferent attitudes. Standoffish, as some would say. You both knew you were good, too good to be true in a lot of ways. You had earned the right to have the attitude. 

You had been thrilled to be assigned to the same squad as him. You were excited to learn as much as you could from him, to befriend him. And that’s what it had been, at first. The two of you flew together well, and it translated on the ground. He noticed the similarities too, and didn’t hesitate with sharing notes and advice with you. He was so passionate and intelligent about what he did, and that’s what drew you to him first. He knew what he was doing and wasn’t ashamed of it, and that had attracted you more than anything. His good looks certainly didn’t hurt, though. 

You had taken to spending time together between hops, and eventually, started talking about more than just flying. It turned out you had a lot in common outside of the Navy, too. He was so easy to talk to. But then almost a month ago, you had been alone in the rec room, talking about the previous night's Cowboys game, of all things, when he had suddenly stepped into your personal space. 

His eyes had been dark and intense, and you could feel the heat emanating from his body. The intoxicating combination of his cologne and the smell of jet fuel that you had started associating with him had been even more palpable that close together. You thought he was going to kiss you, to finally give into the tension you thought had been building, and you wanted him to. But then just as quickly as he stepped forward, he had pulled away, leaving you hanging and confused.

And you’ve been that way ever since.

After that moment, things had been different between you. He barely spared you a second glance when you were on the ground and criticized everything you did when you were in the cockpit. You had tried to speak with him, to understand what the fuck had happened, but Jake Seresin was just as good at evading on the ground as he was in the air. So you buried your feelings as deep as you could inside of yourself and tried to mark him off as just another asshole who wasn’t worth your time.

But damn if the alcohol and the way he said your name and sounded something like concerned didn’t have your heart racing and you questioning everything. 

A little over fifteen minutes and another glass of water later, a shiver ran through your body. You turned your head right as the door to the bar swung open, eyes meeting the unmistakable figure of the aviator occupying your mind. He wasn’t donning his usual khaki uniform or flight suit that you were used to seeing him in — snug jeans hugged his legs and a white shirt clung to his chest, and you realized it was the first time you’d seen him so casual. Your lips parted slightly as you watched him look around. He stood in the entrance, scanning the room with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. Your heart skipped a beat when his eyes finally locked onto you.

You raised your hand in a pitiful, unneeded wave, and in the dimly lit bar, you swore you saw some of the tension leave his shoulders. He started making his way through the crowd to you immediately. You watched him with wary, cautious eyes. 

“You alright?” he asked. His demeanor remained stoic, but those intense green eyes that you had admired for so long seemed to hold a blend of concern and something else you couldn't quite decipher. From this close up, you could see the way they flicked up and down your body as if assessing for himself your current state. 

“Yeah,” you said softly, feeling flushed under his scrutiny. “I’m fine.”

He gave a slight nod, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned to the bar. Without a word, he pulled out his wallet and slipped his credit card from the leather. Your eyes widened. 

“Wait, Hangman, no.” 

You scrambled for your wallet in your tiny small crossbody bag, but before you could get the zipper opened, your self-appointed savior waved you off and handed his card to the approaching bartender. You watched in defeat as the card was swiped and handed back and his signature scrawled on the receipt all in what looked like one smooth motion. Why had you not thought to pay your tab before he had shown up? You were never going to live this down. 

“Finish your water and we’ll go,” he told you as he slipped his wallet back into his back pocket. 

“It’s my third glass since you called me. If I finish it I can’t be held responsible for your upholstery.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as the words left your mouth. You rubbed at your temples with a groan, your face twisted into a disbelieving grimace. “Please tell me I didn’t just say that.”

To your surprise, Hangman let out a chuckle. Your eyes popped open in shock. His laughter was a rare occurrence in your presence these days, and the butterflies in your stomach fluttered wildly at the sound. Damnit.

"You did," he replied with a faint smirk, his stoic demeanor cracking just a bit. You groaned, and the blonde laughed again before he glanced around the bar, his expression settling back into something more serious. “Are you ready?” 

You slid off the barstool, feeling slightly unbalanced on your feet. When you stumbled, he reached out to steady you. You sucked in a breath. It was a simple touch, but it sent a jolt of electricity through your body. For a moment, the two of you just…stared. It was almost reminiscent of that day. But then a bottle broke from a few feet away, shattering the moment — whatever it was — right along with it. Hangman cleared his throat and dropped his hand back to his side. 

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you home.” You thought maybe you saw the faintest hint of red creeping up on his neck before he turned away, and your mind struggled to rationalize it. 

Once you were outside, the cool night air hit you, and it was a welcome relief. You breathed in deeply as you followed behind him to where his large black truck was parked. You knew from one of your conversations before that he had boughten it last year when he was stationed in California after only ever leasing vehicles before. It was a way for him to establish roots now that he was given the opportunity to settle in one place. 

The lights flashed as he unlocked it, opening the passenger door and motioning for you to get in. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if this was really how your night was going. You chanced a glance at the man holding the door open and he raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering what the hold up was. You could have laughed at the irony. It took you a second to realize that you had. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked, and you felt the heat of embarrassment in your face. 

“Nothing,” you muttered, and you turned away before you could say or do anything else to make a fool out of yourself. 

The leather seats were comfortable when you clumsily climbed in, and the interior of the car was immaculate, crisp and clean just like you often thought he was. It didn’t surprise you a bit. Hangman settled into the driver's seat, and you couldn't help but steal glances at him as he started the engine. He handed you his phone to put your address in and as country music played quietly over the speakers, he put the truck in drive. 

You didn’t know what to say, and Hangman seemed content with the quiet. You watched him from the corner of your eye as he drove, the muscles in his arms flexing with every turn of the wheel. You couldn’t help but wonder what those arms would feel like around you, holding you against him. It was a dangerous thought, and you shook it off before it could take root.

You closed your eyes and leant your head back against the seat as you let the wind from the open windows cool your skin. The effects of the alcohol were slowly wearing off, leaving your mind clearer, but no less confused. Being in his presence like this was still throwing you for a loop. 

Why had he dropped everything and shown up for you tonight, after doing everything professionally possible to avoid you for the last month? Why had he ignored you to begin with? 

Why did you even care? 

Neither of you spoke the entire way, and all the questions in your head were like a stoking fire that was rapidly sparking by the time he turned into your apartment complex. Instead of dropping you off in front of your building, he pulled into one of the visitors spots and put the truck in park. He didn’t kill the engine, though, and you wondered if that meant something. 

For a moment, you both just sat there, staring straight ahead. You could feel the tension between you, slowly but surely simmering. You knew the smart thing to do would be to get out of the truck. Thank him for coming to get you and go inside, and then come Monday morning, go back to the same routine. You knew you were capable of it — you had mastered the art of indifference years ago.

“Think you’ll make it upstairs?” he asked, disrupting the silence. You frowned at his choice of words, feeling just the tiniest bit offended. You knew how it looked, being drunk and alone. But he was the one who took it upon himself to show up. He had no right to judge you. You couldn’t help the scoff you let out. 

“You didn’t have to come get me, you know. You didn’t have to call at all.” 

His eyes widened before they squeezed shut, and it was almost like he realized the tone of what he said. You shook your head with a sigh, suddenly so unbelievably tired. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you mumbled. You unbuckled your seatbelt and leant down to grab your purse from the floor. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Hangman’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist before you could open the door. You turned to look at him and found him staring at you intently, his green eyes dark and brooding.

“Wait,” he said, his voice urgent and rough. “I’m sorry.” 

“Are you?” 

He said your name in such a way that you knew nothing would follow it, the blonde at a loss for words for once in his life. 

"How did you know where I was?" you blurted out, the words escaping before you could censor them. But the question had been plaguing you since he called, so you didn’t backtrack. You felt like you had a right to know. 

You could see the tension in his jaw before he spoke. “Quarterback.”

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Quarterback told you where I was?”

“Yes.”

“Did he call you, or….?”

Hangman let out a long sigh, tilting his head back to rest against the seat. “The squad was at the Hard Deck like they normally are, being obnoxious —” 

“Like they normally are?” you couldn’t help but interrupt. He cracked a half smile, the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes as he dipped his chin in agreement. Your shared tolerance level for the other members of your squad was something you had discussed at length before. 

“Like they usually are. I asked them where you were, since you were the only one not there and I had heard you tell them yes earlier. He told me they left you at Lumpy’s. They thought it was funny.” 

You nodded slowly, processing the information. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting, just a little bit, that they went as far as going somewhere out of the ordinary just so they could leave you there and make you the punchline of a joke. You let your eyes close and sulked in the feeling for a brief moment. You didn’t need these people. You didn’t even particularly like them, outside of being in the air. But damn. You swallowed thickly and shook your head, as if to completely dislodge the feeling. You supposed them ditching you wasn’t necessarily surprising. You knew how they felt about you, just as they knew your opinions, too. What you were surprised about was that Hangman had bothered to ask about your whereabouts in the first place. It was almost like he cared. Almost.

“So why’d you come?” you asked, still trying to understand. “I could have gotten an Uber.” 

For a long moment, he just stared, and you looked right back. His expression was hard to decipher. The streetlights outside cast shifting patterns of light and shadow across his face, and you felt like he was seeing right through you. Still, he said nothing. The silence stretched on, tension growing thick in the air. You couldn’t stand it. 

You were about to ask him again, to demand an answer, when he finally spoke. His voice was low and measured, a hint of anger looping through the words, and you shivered at the tone of it. 

“They had no right to leave you there like that. I couldn’t — I had to know you were okay.” 

You stared at him, feeling something deep and aching stir inside you. You didn't know what to say, didn't know how to react.  Everything was suddenly so much more complicated than it had been before.

“Jake…” you whispered, and you don’t know if it was the way you used his first name over his callsign or if he was just finally ready to get it off of his chest, but it was like the single syllable finally cracked the floodgates open. 

“I was seeing somebody,” he said. You sucked in a deep breath at the words, a soft “oh” falling from your lips. He continued on before you could think to say anything else. “For a while. Almost a year. She’s exactly what I always pictured I wanted, you know? She travels a lot, but we were figuring it out. But we were serious.” 

A beat passed, and you cleared your throat in the silence of the truck. You almost felt awkward when you asked, “Were?” 

He nodded, clenching his jaw, before laughing in a way that sounded more self-deprecating than you had ever heard from him. “I’m a lot of things, darlin. But I’m not a cheater, physical or otherwise. It wouldn’t have been so easy for me to catch feelings for someone else if she and I were meant to be together. And the way I had started to feel…” 

He cut himself off with a shake of his head, gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned ghostly white. You processed the words slowly, mulling over them over and over again as you tried to figure out the implications behind them. 

“About me?” you dared yourself to ask, your heart beating hard in your chest and damn near holding your breath after you did. 

He met your gaze head on, his green eyes blazing with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. “Yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “About you. I think I’ve been feeling this way for a while now, but it wasn’t until that day in the ready room that I realized I couldn’t keep denying it anymore. I care about you more than I should.”

The weight of his words was heavy, and you felt a flush start to creep up your neck. It was like all the air had been sucked out of the truck, leaving the two of you suspended in a moment that felt both infinite and fleeting. You didn't know what to say, didn't even know exactly what you were feeling right now. You never thought he would feel the same way that you did, to the point where he had apparently broken up with a girlfriend you had no idea about. But then he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t acted. 

You had no idea what any of this meant. 

You opened your mouth to speak, to ask him, but before you could get a word out, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You gasped against his mouth, but his lips were warm and firm and you couldn’t help the way you relaxed into it. It wasn’t more than a press of your lips together, neither of you moving to deepen it, but it left you dizzy like it was the most intense kiss of your life. 

When you pulled back, you were both breathing heavier, your foreheads pressed together. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice thick with something that felt emotional. “I shouldn't have...not yet. But I had to know what it felt like.” 

You swallowed, focusing on one word.“Yet?” 

Hangman, Jake, nodded, and the silence stretched on for a long moment. You were still reeling from his kiss, the emotion, your own confusion over your feelings and what it all might mean. Then he sighed, loud and deep. From this close, you could smell the peppermint from the gum he always chewed on his breath. He pulled away so he could look into your eyes and cupped your cheek. The smile he gave you was tinged with sadness and longing, and the strangest mix of hope. You knew before he said anything that nothing would be happening tonight. 

“I’m not…I’m not ready yet,” he said softly. Even though you knew something of the sort was coming, there was a flash of disappointment. He must have read it on your face, because he was quick to try and reassure you. “It’s not you. It’s just…I just ended it with her. And I’m still confused as hell over what I feel for you. I think you both deserve more than me rushing into something without figuring that out. Please understand.” 

You nodded, even though you weren't entirely sure if you did. You wanted him, that much was clear. But you also didn't want to be someone's rebound. You wanted something real, something meaningful. And you were willing to wait for that. You just hoped he was too. 

“Okay," you whispered, taking a deep breath. "I understand.” 

He smiled at you again, a small, sad curve of his lips, before leaning in to press his forehead against yours. "Thank you," he murmured, his breath ghosting over your lips. "You're amazing, you know that?"

You wanted him to kiss you again. You ached for it, almost. But you knew if you closed the distance that you’d be going back on everything he had just asked for and the understanding you had promised him you had. So instead, you swallowed thickly and pulled away from him all together. He seemed to understand the distance you were creating and released another deep breath, clearing his throat. 

"Thank you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "For coming to get me." 

He nodded, and the two of you fell into silence again. There was something in his eyes that made you think he wasn't done yet. "Can I walk you up to your door?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. 

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was a good idea. But at the same time, you didn't want this moment to end, either, even if it was just a few more minutes. "Sure," you finally said. 

The two of you got out of the truck and made your way up to your apartment, the silence between you heavy. He was walking so close that you could feel the body heat radiating from him, and you were starting to feel hot all over. When you reached your door, you turned to face him, unsure of what to say. You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you stared. 

"Thank you again," you said softly.

He nodded, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he let out a deep breath. "Of course,” he said, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Your skin tingled when he pulled away. “I'll see you Monday?" he asked, his voice uncertain. 

You nodded. "Yeah, I'll see you then." 

He stepped away, staring for just a moment longer before he whispered out a goodnight and turned and walked back down the hallway. You watched him go, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside of you. You didn't know what was going to happen between the two of you, but you thought maybe you were ready to find out. You turned to your door and pulled out your keys, taking a deep breath before unlocking it and stepping inside. 

---------------

Main Masterlist

Notes: More of The Blonde One™️needed to be added to my masterlist. I hope you enjoyed whatever this was lol. Likes/comments/reblogs are the best encouragement!

Thanks to @roosterforme @mak-32 @thedroneranger for the help! And to Mak for the prettiest banner that finally gets to see the light of day😍

[seresinhangmanjake]

Nothing Better than What We’ve Got

Dad!Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female reader

Summary: You once said you wouldn’t marry anyone unless you were with them for at least a year, but maybe with Jake, your mind has changed.

Warnings: Allusion to smut(ish). That’s probably it. A MASSIVE BALL OF FLUFF!!!

Notes: Part of the Oh, Baby Universe. 

Words: 2600

---

He slept well these days. As deeply and thoroughly as the little girl nestled in her crib down the hall. All traces of nightmares were long gone and he woke perfectly rested with a smile across his face before he dropped a kiss to your forehead, then your lips. Every morning the same confirmation of his happiness. 

You were thankful for that; that he had fought his way through the pain you had caused, the added stress of dealing with your mother, and the unease and fear of facing his own parents to get to a place of peace. But that was Jake. Put a wall in front of him and he would fight his way over it. That is, with the exception of the time when you were gone. I wasn't getting over you, he'd said. There's no way. In that area, you had stunted him. 

Pinpricks of guilt lingered, occasionally making themselves a tad sharper; impossible to ignore. But despite what you had done, Jake remained a fighter, tackling all battles that quite literally kicked down his front door. Just as he was a protector; fierce and unrelenting when it came to keeping you and your shared daughter safe. And yet, those prominent qualities made him no less of a lover. Your lover, your man—the only one you ever cared to have. 

You loved him so terribly much. He made up a piece of your world that if taken away from you would leave an unfillable void. Jake Seresin was it. He was everything. Of that, you'd been so sure of for so long, and you were tired of not letting him know it in every way possible. 

"Jake," you whispered.

His eyes were closed, mouth ever so slightly parted so his gentle breaths could warm your face. You really hated to wake him, but not so much that you paused to consider stopping your light shaking of his shoulder. 

"Jake!"

He began to stir, brows furrowing, consciousness tugging at him. "Mmm, Honey," he muttered. Lazily shifting onto his side, his hand found your bare hip, a weight holding you down. 

"Baby, wake up. I need you."

He mumbled your name, but when your words sunk in, his torso shot up in bed. Eyes wide. Chest heaving. "What? What's wrong?" he rushed out as his head turned in all directions to scan the room. "Are you ok? Where's Eve?"

"No, baby," you soothed. "We're fine." With your hand pressed into his chest—feeling the intensity of his rapid, thudding heartbeat—you helped settle him back onto the mattress. Head again cushioned by a pillow, Jake blew out a breath and gave you a look that barely concealed the merest bit of irritation for nearly causing his heart attack.

His hand layered yours for a moment before he grasped it tightly and brought your palm to his lips for a kiss. He kissed it once more, the second time longer.

"You can't do that to me, Honey. You know how I am." A mild scolding; maybe a fair one. You did know how he was. His sleep might have improved exponentially, but he was still a military man, still a man who had suffered enough and worried enough and feared enough for the sake of his family that he could be pulled from that deep sleep for next to nothing. Just a whiff of danger or threat was all it took, and your words were not so carefully chosen as to protect him from questioning your safety in the dead of night.

"Sorry."

"It's ok," he smiled, flipping back onto his side. He kissed your forehead, pulled your body into the cocoon of his frame, and closed his eyes again. You cupped his cheek and ran your thumb over the scruff of dark blond whiskers. 

"Tell me what's wrong," he said, but his voice was already fading as exhaustion draped over him. 

"Nothing."

"No?" You could hardly make out the weak syllable. 

"Wrong? No," you confirmed. Those lips were parting once more. Light puffs traveled in and out of his lungs. You considered letting him be, but then you said, "I want to marry you."

You'd stared into his eyes countless times, but this was different. When eyelids shot open to reveal green orbs, they held an array of emotions, each one of them struggling to claim the forefront. His eyes flicked back and forth between yours in search of the meaning within your gaze, but he wouldn't be searching long. You knew your emotion was solidly present. The love you felt for him splayed across the surface of you, an abundance pouring out through your eyes and smile and touch.

"You—" His inhale was sharp; exhale heavy. He blinked and shook his head like he was trying to understand if he heard you right. "You what?"

Your thumb reached lower to graze over his bottom lip. "I want to be married to you."

"I thought…" From his continuous disbelief you chuckled. "You said not for a year."

"Jake, we have a child together. And I love you so much," you said softly. His hand on your waist squeezed your flesh. "I don't want to wait anymore to be your wife."

He stopped blinking altogether, but then a smile cracked his face and he threw the comforter off his bare body to hop out of the bed. 

"What are you doing?" 

He crossed the room in record time and, opening one of the dresser drawers, began to rifle through his neatly folded underwear. When he pulled his hand back, a little black box was clutched in his shaky fingers.

Any amusement on your face dissipated and you sat up quickly, the sheets falling away to expose your chest, but you didn't care. He took his spot across from you and recovered his lower half. Both sets of eyes were glued to the box as he placed it atop the bed between you. 

You almost didn’t want to touch it. Well, truly, you knew it wasn’t yours to touch quite yet. But still, it felt like that box had some sort of magic inside it—the culmination of all you’d been through with the man you loved somehow stuffed into one tiny hollow cube—and that opening it would overwhelmingly drench you in every feeling you’d ever had for Jake, every emotion that ever passed through you. And that was so, so, much.

You never needed a ring to prove anything to one another. It wasn’t the physical symbol of love that would forever hold you and Jake together. If anything, you had Eve for that. Nevertheless, you wanted it. You wanted to be his wife. You wanted him as your husband. 

"You had this already?" You asked, vision beginning to haze from a damp coating.

Jake swallowed, finally looking up at you. You met the sweetness in his eyes. "I'd been thinking about all of it for a while. I got the ring made a couple months ago."

"How long is a while?"

Some of that sweetness fell away to nerves. His smile faltered so he could clear his throat. "You don't want to know." 

You nodded encouragingly, weaving your fingers with his.

For a minute, you weren’t sure he was going to answer you, but then he sighed. "Honey," he said. He paused again, his mouth opening and closing. He shook his head to himself and looked back at you. "I used to imagine you being my wife well before you ever kissed me."

Your eyes went wide as saucers. 

That day was permanently vivid in your mind. The day you took that leap. The day you finally grasped that Jake—the potential of finally being with him after a year of back and forth—was worth the risk of any humiliation had you misunderstood what he felt for you. That one day changed your entire world. You’d kissed him, you’d slept with him, you’d conceived your daughter without knowing it. It felt so long ago and yet if you closed your eyes and reached out your hand, you were sure your fingertips would brush along the memory. 

"A while,” you whispered. 

He nodded. "A while."

Each breath was loud in your ears, each heartbeat adding to the echo-like rhythm. 

“So, Honey…” Jake took the box in one hand, and with the other, pulled back the hinged lid. The diamond sparkled despite the lack of light in the room. “Will you–"

"You don't have to ask," you said as you scrambled into his lap, your legs on either side of his thighs. His arm held you tightly to help steady the sudden collision of your bodies as your hands framed his face. Leaning down, you kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him—every inch of his face you could claim. "You already know the answer."

Feathery touch traveled up and down your spine, then he pressed his lips to yours; softer; delicate and thorough compared to the frenzy of yours. "Let me hear it,” he pleaded. “I want to hear it so bad.” 

The corners of your lips quirked up just slightly at the desperation in his voice. You could see how much it meant to him, so you didn’t make him wait. 

"Yes, Jake,” you said, nudging your nose against his, “I will marry you."

He let out a deep groan and his hand dropped the box so it could weave into your hair as mouths melded again. Your lips tingled in the aftermath of your words, the sensation making its way throughout your entire system the longer you stayed intertwined with the man you were going to call your husband.

You were so close to losing yourself, as you always did when you were with him. But then it hit you. 

You released a muffled squeak and pushed against his chest. "Wait, wait, wait," you stopped him.

"What?” His voice was husky. His eyelids heavy over the love and lust swirling in emerald irises, and he licked his lips, the hand at the base of your neck already starting to draw you back into his kiss.

"You forgot to put it on me,” you said quickly. 

"Oh!" A genuine expression of surprise took over his face. He looked around the mattress until he found the box with its ring still snuggled inside. Plucking out the silver band, he said, "Sorry, Honey. Got distracted.” 

You giggled at his renewed eagerness. 

Few things in your life had been more beautiful than Jake sliding that ring on your finger. When the nurse placed a swaddled Eve against your breast so you could get your first good look at your daughter’s perfect little face. When you saw Jake after nearly a year of being apart and realized that not only did you want to be with him, you belonged with him. And when you tucked your daughter into his awaiting arms and heard his declaration of love for her only minutes after his learning of the circumstances of her existence. 

Those moments gave you life. Hidden away, but always accessible. Never did you spend a day in darkness with the light of them behind you. They helped you to remember that nothing mattered but Jake and your baby. His father, your mother, the difficulties of past choices, and anything the future may throw at you were weak under the weight of each beautiful building block that made up the life you and Jake shared. 

And now you had another moment. Another memory. Another block to squash your troubles. 

“I love you,” he said, letting his lips brush over the diamond. “Don’t ever take this off.”

“I’ll never want to,” you replied. 

—-

He’d worn you out. 

It wasn’t exactly intentional, but he couldn’t stop wanting you. He couldn’t tamp down how badly he needed to be inside of you again and again. And he thought he would pass out alongside you, he really did, but there was no resting his eyes after all of that. You were going to be his wife. 

His Wife. 

A part of him was too stunned to believe it, but every time he glanced down at your hand, the ring was still there and his heart burst in his chest all over again. So, no, he didn’t rest. There were too many emotions bouncing around within the confines of his body. 

Instead, he watched you sleep, occasionally tucking back strands of your hair when your shifting caused them to fall into your face so he could press his lips to your skin. Every few minutes he found somewhere else to kiss. Your fingers, shoulder, cheek, temple, neck. As long as he didn’t wake you, his careful kisses continued to find new places until the first rays of sunlight broke through the curtains. 

Jake sighed. He didn’t wish to leave you, but Eve’s cries would begin soon. Slept peacefully, she did, but like clockwork, his baby girl woke so early it was as if the dawn itself whispered in her ear each morning. 

With a final kiss, Jake stood from the bed and grabbed his sweatpants off the floor so he could pull them up his legs. He made his way down the hall into the nursery and took the stirring girl in his arms before she had a chance to question his absence. 

Jake had learned his daughter’s needs rather soon into their budding relationship; something he took great pride in. And he knew she favored touch. Had to be greeted with cuddles and kisses before anything else could be considered important. Their routine was not one she cared to have interrupted, so, as always, Jake quickly changed Eve’s diaper before taking a seat in the rocking chair his Gram had gifted, keeping her snug against his chest while they swayed with the back-and-forth motion. 

His eyes welcomed hers. 

“Well, good morning, baby girl,” he said. 

She granted him the most delicate of smiles. As incredible and heart-stopping as yours. 

Jake knew she’d destroy someone when the day came—would absolutely wreck them from the inside out because of that smile, exactly how you had done to him. He just hoped that if he had to watch his daughter with anyone, despite the anxiety that zig-zagged up and down his spine at the thought, that person would be worth Eve putting her love and time into. And if they were worth it, he’d wish them luck. Because as much as Eve’s face matched his, her personality was clearly going to develop into a carbon copy of yours. In his daughter was your wit and love, but he didn’t kid himself into thinking she didn’t also have your stubbornness and grit. But thankfully, it would be a while before he’d be forced to worry over anything like that. For now, other matters were to be shared.

“I’ve got news for you,” he continued, extending his hand so Eve could wrap her five little fingers around his larger one. “Mama and Daddy are getting married.”

She blinked, then giggled. 

“I know. I’m sure it seems awfully fast to you,” he said with a chuckle of his own, “but I’ve loved your Mama longer than you know. Longer than she knew, too.

“And she’s going to be so beautiful in her dress, and you’re going to be so beautiful in whatever doesn’t make you grumpy that day. You can be our flower girl and we’ll have Uncle Rooster carry you and help you toss petals down the aisle, doesn’t that sound good?”

At her look of awe, Jake gave a peck to her forehead.

“I’d say things will be perfect, baby girl,” he grinned, running his thumb over the back of her hand, “But they already are.”

---

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[blackwidownat2814]

Merry Christmas Lieutenant (J.Seresin)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x female reader

Word Count: 1440 (ish)

A/N: Written for @sailor-aviator’s Christmas Writing Challenge. My word was candy cane. To be super honest, I completely forgot I had to write this until last night and went through about 5 ideas before I landed on this today. Thanks to @buckysdollforlife for the quick beta-ing they did earlier. Part of the Jake & Dewey ‘Verse. GIF by @babyrooster

Dividers by: @saradika (Go check out her others, they're awesome!!!)

Warnings: Super fluffy and honestly? The most suggestive thing I’ve written…ever. So yeah, implied future smut I guess?

Masterlist

MERRY CRISIS EVERYONE!!!

When you’d told Jake that your favorite thing about Christmas was candy canes and other peppermint flavored things, you didn’t think he’d go this hard with it.

On December 1st, you shambled into the kitchen to see Jake standing at the island with a steaming mug in his hand and a big smile on his face.

“Merry Christmas sweetheart.” He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips and when you pulled away, you took a sip of your coffee.

“Jake! You made me a Peppermint Mocha?!”

“Of course I did, it’s your favorite.”

“Maybe you should change your callsign to 'Starbies'.”

On December 2nd, you woke to find a big bag of the Ghirardelli Peppermint Bark Squares on your nightstand with a short note I love you so much baby. Enjoy your minty snack!

You took the bag with you to work and shared the love with your coworkers. On your lunch hour, you headed over to the Exchange to meet up with Bob for lunch and shared some with him, giving him extra to share with the other Daggers.

“Hey Bobbers? Could you give Jake something extra for me please?”

“Sure Dew, what is it?” You planted a kiss on Bob’s cheek and he turned red and smiled. “I can’t guarantee he’s going to appreciate it as much since it’s not coming from you.”

It went like that for the next week or so. Candy cane themed gifts for you every day. Knee high socks covered in candy canes, some earrings you’d seen on TikTok, all kinds of candies that were putting out their peppermint flavored things.

Two weeks before Christmas, Jake came home with news that he and the other Daggers (Mav included) were going to be gone until a few days before the holiday to several Naval Air Stations starting in New Jersey and ending back home in San Diego. You didn’t know all the facts, because all Jake could tell you was that it had to do with the Uranium Mission (since you were Mickey’s only family and Jake’s partner, Mav had said that all you could really know was that it was dangerous and that the squad called it the Uranium Mission).

Jake promised his gifts would keep going in his absence, even when you told him they didn’t need to.

The first day he was gone, you went to the Hard Deck to have dinner with Halo, a recent friend. Halo waved when she saw you walk in and you joined her at the end of the bar, where you greeted Penny.

“Hey Pen, missing Mav already?”

“Always do”, she replied with a smile. After you and Halo gave her your dinner order, she placed a glass down in front of you.

“What’s this?”

“Hangman asked me to get you a peppermint flavored drink every time you come in while they’re all gone.” She pulls a mini-candy cane from under the bar and sticks it in the glass. “This here is a Peppermint Piña Colada. Enjoy.”

“What’s with all the peppermint?” asked Callie.

“Last month, I told Jake that one of my favorite things about Christmas was candy canes and peppermint flavored stuff. Since December 1st, he’s given me something peppermint flavored or candy cane themed every single day.” You took a sip of your drink, “Oof…that’s actually better than I thought it would be.”

“Oh. So that’s why Hangman asked me to give you this.” Callie pulled a small red and white gift bag from the bar stool beside her and slid it your way. “He said to tell you not to open it until tomorrow though.”

“Ugh! But I want to open it now!”

“He said, and I quote: ‘One a day Dewey, that’s the rule. Be a good girl and follow the rules.’” Callie made a face like she wanted to vomit. “I don’t kink shame, but I did not need to know that.”

You’re not sure how long you laughed after that.

The next day, Callie came to visit you at the library.

“So, what was in the bag?” she asked. “Wait. After that message, I’m not sure I want to know.” You gave a small laugh as you placed two small spray bottles on your desk.

“He got me hand sanitizer spray in Twisted Peppermint from Bath & Body Works. One for the office and one to carry in my bag.”

“Can I have some?”

“Sure!” You give her a couple sprays and she rubbed her hands together.

“This smells awesome. Like I’d dipped my hands in Christmas or something.”

While he was gone, Jake had cookies from Tiff’s Treats (a dozen minty chocolate) delivered, a box of only peppermint chocolates from Copper Coast Confections, a new red and white striped apron from Hedley & Bennett with your name embroidered on the front. After watching Next Level Chef a few months ago, you’d expressed to him how you wanted an apron from H&B one day and that it might take you a while because they were pretty expensive. You couldn’t believe he’d remembered. After that, when you invited Callie and Penny over and the three of you would cook or bake together, you smiled big as you sported your new apron.

Finally, the day Jake and the rest of the Daggers were due home arrived. They weren’t due until late afternoon, so you changed in your office at the library. You wore your candy cane earrings, striped Santa hat, bright red lipstick with peppermint gloss, and made sure your new manicure (candy cane themed of course) shone brightly.

You stood with Penny and the other families that waited for their sailors. You hugged Bob and Phoenix when they walked over to you guys and when Reuben and your brother arrived, they both gave you a big wet kiss on either cheek. Distracted as you were wiping your cheeks off while laughing, you didn’t see or hear Jake approaching.

“What are you doin’ givin’ my girl kisses, Payback?”

“JAKE!” You whirled around with a scream.

“Hey sweetheart.” You practically jumped into his arms and pulled his face to yours (thank goodness for long lasting liquid lipsticks!). Jake took it a step further and dipped you backwards while still kissing you…like that sailor kissing a nurse in New York City on VJ Day in 1945.

“What am I?” you heard Mickey ask. “Chopped liver?”

Later that night, you were in bed reading while Jake finished his shower. You could smell the shower gel he used because it was one he’d gotten you while he was gone (a delicious pepperminty scent from LUSH), and he finally emerged from the bathroom in a peppermint scented cloud.

“Boy, am I happy to be home.”

“I’m glad you’re home too, Jake.” You pecked him on the lips when he leaned down over you. “I missed you and even though I loved absolutely everything you got me--especially the candy cane themed flower bouquet--none of it replaces having you here with me.”

“You sap.”

“Shut up. You love how sappy I am.”

“True.” He put on his sleep pants and got in bed next to you. “Do you want today’s present?”

“I thought you were today’s present?”

“I’m just the bonus”, he said with his traditional Jake Seresin smile (it was your favorite of his smiles).

“Then gimme!” You put your book down and made grabby hands at him.

“Here you go m’darlin.” He handed you a small box with a red and white bow on it.

“Jake. Jake. This isn’t…?”

“No, it isn’t. I wouldn’t do that without Mickey being present.”

“Oh okay. It’s not that I don’t want to…”

“Baby, don’t worry, I understand.”

“I love you.”

“I know.” He winked at you and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Nerd.” You turn back to the small box and open it. Inside was a necklace with a small ruby and diamond encrusted candy cane on it. “Holy shit.”

“I take it that means you like it.”

“I love it Jake.” You settle onto his lap and kiss him. When you pull apart, he takes the necklace from the box and moves to put it on you. “Thanks cowboy. I think this is going to beat one of my gifts to you for sure.”

“Oh? Do tell.” You hop off his lap and run into your closet. A few minutes later, you emerge wearing your new candy cane themed robe and your necklace.

“I wanted to put on my necklace and see what you think about how it looks.”

“Let’s see it.” Jake’s jaw drops comically when you throw off your robe, because standing in front of him is you. In your necklace.

Just your necklace.

“Merry Christmas Lieutenant.”

[mynameismckenziemae]

Okay so the prompt list. 17. ☆ { laughing } mid way through with Jake. 😁

My favorite kink made another appearance 🫣

Smut below 👇🏻

“Get up here,” Jake pants, pulling you to your feet from your hair.

More heat crosses his expression as he takes in your watery-eyes and streaks of mascara from when he fucked your face moments earlier, and his eyes drop when your tongue darts out to lick the corner of your lips where his cum had overflowed before you could swallow it.

“Learn your lesson yet?” He asks, voice low and husky.

“Yes sir,” you respond, looking up at him with faux innocence.

His hand not gripping your hair reaches behind your back, grasping your wrist and bringing it forward. You both look at your hand where your fingers are crossed.

“Oops,” you whisper, looking back up at him as you bite your lip.

“Fucking brat,” he growls, sitting on the bench by the door; the closest seat since he had pushed you to your knees the second you were through it.

Normally you took the lead in bed, but had discussed switching things up a bit. Jake agreed but it hadn’t happened yet. Until tonight. He caught on when you wore the shortest skirt you could find and teased him all night long at the Hard Deck.

You squeak as he pulls you down across his lap, arms flying out in front you to balance as he positions you over his knee.

“No panties,” he tsks as he flips your skirt up, sighing heavily as he rubs and kneads the exposed skin of your ass. “This is going to hurt you more than it hurts me,” he murmurs lowly.

Your pussy clenches, but nervous giggle escapes and you slap your hand over your mouth to cover it.

Jake’s hand pauses for a moment before he snorts, and starts laughing too. “Sorry, that was corny as hell.”

“It’s okay,” you smile, looking up over your shoulder at him, “I still liked it.”

“Yeah?” He smiles too before his expression goes back to serious, squeezing your cheek once more before lifting his hand, “let’s see if you like this.”

You gasp when he slaps it down hard, harder than you ever guessed he would spank you. But you clench again at the heat that blooms from the sting.

“Keep count for me,” he says next, voice thick with lust, as he spanks the other cheek just as hard. “If you lose track, I’m starting over.”