#jake sersin fan fiction

[vivalas-vega]

new perspectives // part ten // jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

howdy !! I think this is the shortest chapter in this series yet, but kind of a heavy one nonetheless. I'm getting back into the swing of writing and am hoping to bring this series to it's close within the next 3-5 parts! as always, please let me know what you think!

new perspectives // part ten // jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

prologue - one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - nine

add yourself to my taglist

word count: 2.5k

warnings: we are diving into jupiter's deployment so mentions of warzones and guns but nothing too graphic or in depth

The Hard Deck was thrumming just as it always was on a Friday night but lately Jake had lost the desire for after-work hangouts at the bar… darts and pool didn’t feel the same anymore, and he was having a hard time enjoying anything because he knew wherever you were you weren’t having fun. He tried to tell himself that maybe in the quiet moments, when the sky wasn’t falling and people weren’t relying on you to save their life, you and your team were able to unwind. Maybe kick around a soccer ball or play card games to pass the time and provide some sense of normalcy but he knew even if that was the case it didn’t change anything. You were in a warzone, and he was here at the bar. 

But, that didn’t stop him from trying. Your deployment was hard on everyone, not just him, and he knew that if he pulled away it would only make your friends feel it more deeply, he was the only tether to you and he also knew he needed to be here. If he wasn’t he’d be at home staring off into space and making himself sick with worry. It was better for him to be preoccupied, which was why he had taken on more responsibility at Top Gun, and why he was currently engaged in a game of darts with Coyote, trying to distract himself from the fact that he hadn’t heard from you in a month.

You two had discussed this going into it, and he knew communication would be infrequent. You had real life or death problems on your hands day in and day out, in a foreign country in the middle of an active warzone. Just because you didn’t call, or didn’t answer any of his, didn’t mean that something had happened to you, or that you didn’t want to. It just meant you were doing your job, and trying to stay safe in the process… but knowing that didn’t make it any easier of a pill to swallow. 

He also knew there was an order, and it wasn’t his turn. You two were no strangers to infrequent communication and you were adamant that your marriage could handle it. His turn had been first, and then your parents, and the next time you had the opportunity to call home it would be Rooster’s. He wasn’t angry about that, not at all… Rooster had quickly become your closest friend and confidant outside of him and he knew that you missed him just as much as everyone else, that in your darkest moments he would be one of the people you needed to see. He was grateful for it, to know that you had multiple people in your life you loved so deeply, trusted so implicitly… but that didn’t make it fun to know that the next time someone heard from you it would be the goofy guy across the bar laughing loudly with his arm slung around his new girlfriend’s waist and not him, that the next time he got an update on you it would come from him. 

He was endlessly proud of you, for how strong you had been and how devoted you were to your life’s calling. Putting yourself into such imminent danger to help others was just about the most you think he could think of, and he knew you could handle yourself. When you left you were off to a very condensed boot camp where you learned basic survival skills outside of medicine, you received a crash course in all the things you would need to know, and received training if god forbid you ever found yourself in the position of needing to defend yourself. He knew you were well equipped to take care of yourself, but he also knew that you likely had seen things and done things that would leave a lasting mark… but that was all he knew.

That was the hardest part for him… not knowing what you were going through. Even in your spottiest bouts of communication over the course of school and deployments he always knew what was going on with you, and his worst case scenarios he’d concoct when he worried were you stressing yourself into exhaustion. Now, his worst case scenarios were something he couldn’t even dare to verbalize, something if he thought about even a second too long would send him careening towards a ledge. 

“I’m sure she’s fine,” he heard from beside him suddenly, jumping slightly as he turned to see Coyote and he gave him a soft smile. 

“I know,” he replied and Coyote just nodded.

“She’s tough. Like, scary tough, my shoulder still makes a weird creaking sound from when she tackled me during dogfight football,” he said and this made Jake laugh, something that was pretty infrequent now.

“I still can’t believe she took you down like that,” he replied.

“Yeah, that one fights dirty, man… so I’m sure she’s holding her own just fine.” This provided Jake just enough reassurance in the moment that he was able to shift his focus somewhere else entirely, so much so that he didn’t notice the way Rooster pulled out his phone and quickly ran out of the bar.

“J?” he asked, the video on his phone taking its sweet time connecting and he heard his second-favorite laugh on the other end.

“Hey Roo, sorry, the video is super spotty here,” you said just as it fully connected and he finally got to see you for the first time since your wedding night. His first thought was that you looked different, almost unrecognizable if it weren’t for those few characteristics that were so completely you. You were thinner, primarily in your face and he couldn’t ignore the way your eyes lacked their usual warmth, it sent an ache through his chest to see you look so… hollow. 

“How are you? Are you okay? What’s going on over there?” he fired off in rapid succession and this pulled another soft laugh from your lips. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to see that stupid porn stache until it was staring back at you through the screen of a tablet. 

“Don’t worry about me, I don’t have long so tell me everything… what have I missed?” you asked and briefly he wanted to press, try to get you to open up about what you were going through over there but he realized that probably wasn’t what you needed right now. You needed a distraction, reminders of home, and you didn’t have much time to get it.

“Well, Eliza and I made things official a few days ago,” he said and you smiled, a real one that almost fully reached your eyes.

“Oh my god, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you, Roo. Where did you take her for your first date?”

“Well, our unofficial first date was your wedding, but the real first date was mini golf… where she completely smoked me by the way,” he said and you chuckled. “She’s… incredible, JJ, I’ve never met a woman like her before.”

“Well I’ll be damned, Bradley Bradshaw is serious about someone? I leave for two months and suddenly the world turns upside down.”

“Shut up, I’ll have you know I’ve been serious about people before,” he protested before adding, “but not like this. I think this is it, J.”

“You keep that to yourself for a while longer, don’t spook her too soon,” you teased. “How is he?” you asked suddenly, getting serious and he knew what you meant without further clarification.

“He’s… good,” he replied and you furrowed your brows. “He’s just worried, is all. Just wants to know if you’re okay, we all do.” 

You nodded, “I don’t know if I am, Roo… and you can’t tell that to him, okay? I just… I don’t want him worrying anymore than he already is.”

“I won’t, but… talk to me? What’s going on over there?”

You sighed, “I don’t have enough hands, or supplies, or time… I’m picking and choosing who lives and who dies based on a twenty second evaluation and I just… never know if I’m making the right choices, never know if I’m actually making a damn difference out here.”

“Hey, you are. If I know you like I think I do, I know you are.”

You nodded but it didn’t really do anything to make you feel better. “I know this is our turn, but-”

“I texted him a few minutes ago, he should be out any second,” Rooster cut you off and you just smiled softly. 

“Thank you. I miss you way more than I thought I would, Roo,” you said and he let out a shocked laugh.

“What the hell does that mean?” he asked but he was interrupted by the door to the patio opening.

“Come outside in two minutes, alone? What kind of cryptic bullshit is that, Chicken?” you heard distantly and couldn’t help but laugh, warmth filling your chest at hearing your husband's voice after so long. “Is that- give me that,” he said, snatching the phone from Rooster’s hand and confirming for himself it was really you.

“Hey you,” you said and you thought his face might split open from how wide he was grinning. “Might want to not be so hard on Rooster, seeing as he gave up some of his phone time for you.” 

“God, I miss you, are you okay?” 

You nodded, forcing yourself to smile and Jake saw right through it, saw the way it didn’t fully reach your eyes. “I’m okay.”

“I’ll give you guys space,” Rooster said from beside Jake, “I love you, JJ, stay safe, okay?”

“Love you too, Roo,” you replied and suddenly there was a commotion from outside your tent that made him stop in his tracks as Jake’s eyes widened in concern.

“Jupiter, what’s going on?” he asked, trying to pinpoint the sounds he was hearing. The visual was blocked by you pressing the tablet against your chest as you poked your head outside the tent and the sound became clear as day on their end. Gunfire. 

“I have to go.”

“Jupiter, talk to me,” Jake tried but you’d barely heard it, barely registered.

“I can’t- I’m sorry, I love you,” was all you said before the call disconnected and Jake stood there frozen, staring at a black screen as he tried to process what had just happened. 

“Was that…?” Rooster started, not entirely sure of what to say. He knew whatever he was feeling was magnified in Jake tenfold, but that didn’t make it any easier to push through to try and be there for him. 

“I think so,” Jake said after clearing his throat. Logically he knew you’d face situations like this, it was the biggest thing he was struggling to come to terms with, but actually hearing it was a completely different beast. Right now he was standing here with your best friend on the patio overlooking the ocean at sunset… it was peaceful, yet somewhere halfway across the world you were under fire, undoubtedly under stress as you were probably assessing wounded soldiers and civilians, trying to do your job the best you could. 

Rooster noticed the slight tremble in Jake’s hands, noticed the way he was currently retreating into himself and trying to not spin out and he gently pulled the phone away and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey man, come on, let’s go sit for a minute,” he said, and Jake followed him almost mindlessly out onto the beach where they both sat down. “I know this might not sound helpful, but she’s been out there two months already, I’m sure this isn’t the first time… she knows how to handle herself.”

Jake let out a humorless laugh, “you’re right, it’s not.” He knew what Rooster’s intentions were behind the sentiment, you’d gone through this before and made it out the other side, and you’d do it again now, but all it served as was a reminder that this was your life right now. He was focused on the fact that you didn’t sound worried at all, you’d said you had to go and that you loved him as simply as you used to when you’d call him in between patients. He was sitting here, mind spinning with the possibilities of what could be happening and you’d sounded as calm as ever. That should have proved reassuring, in some small way, you weren’t fazed… you weren’t scared, but it wasn’t. If anything, it made his chest ache more. 

“She’s gonna be okay, man. It’s Jupiter, she can handle anything,” Rooster said, even though he might not have fully meant it. He saw you, heard the unsure tone as you spoke to him and saw those hollow eyes, you were different. You weren’t the Jupiter you left as, weren’t the Jupiter they knew like the back of their hands… and Rooster knew it would happen, had told you as much sitting right here in this same spot just a few months ago. 

“I don’t know… I should have told her no, told her not to do it, anything to get her to stay put,” Jake sighed and Rooster chuckled.

“We are talking about Jupiter right?” he asked and Jake couldn’t help but laugh too. “She knew what she was signing up for. We talked about it, you know... what she'd see, what she'd do, briefly, but she knew. She never bites off more than she can chew.”

“Yeah, I think this time is different,” Jake said and Rooster nodded.

“Maybe… but she’s got you, and she’s got the rest of us. We’ve all got her, no matter how she is when she comes home.”

“If she comes home,” Jake nearly whispered and this took Rooster aback. It felt like a weight off his back to finally say his biggest fear out loud, but only seconds later that weight came crashing down as he fully realized it was a genuine possibility. It wasn’t some hypothetical worst case scenario he’d concocted, hearing that gunfire proved that, it was simply how things were. If you came home. 

“You can’t think like that right now. Her tour is over in just a few weeks, she’ll pull through.” 

Jake sighed again, “I just need to know that she’s safe.”

“She’ll call when she can. That much I know for certain, I’m sure she didn’t want to leave things like that. She’ll call, or she’ll email just as soon as she’s able.” 

“I think I get it now,” Jake said and Rooster gave him a confused look, “why she likes you so much,” he practically mumbled and Rooster laughed. 

“Come on, man. There’s nothing either of us can do except wait, and she wouldn’t want you spinning out over this. Let’s go back inside,” he said as he stood and dusted the sand from his pants, and Jake followed reluctantly. He was right after all, he couldn’t do anything right now except go back inside, nurse his beer and hope you were okay.

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[topguncortez]

Court of Thieves || Chapter 3

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synopsis: A ball is thrown in celebration of The Lady Mitchell and Prince Jacob's engagement. The Prince and Lady Mitchell meet for the first time and it goes anything but smooth. The Lady Mitchell must figure out a way to get The Prince to like her.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: historical inaccuracies, era-related misogyny, minor character death, mentions of murder, mentions of virginity, forced kissing, mentions of sex, mentions of cheating, mentions of religion

The ballroom was decorated with white curtains and gold streamers. Candles burned brightly, illuminating the great hall. Lords and Ladies mingled amongst each other, some of them dancing to the strings that were playing. Jake loved balls, he loved them even more when they were being hosted in his name. Of course, this one wasn’t totally thrown in his honor. It was being thrown to celebrate his future bride being in Landing Center. He had heard the whispers from his pageboys and the maidens that she was one of the most beautiful ladies to ever walk into Landing Center. But, he was yet to even see a glimpse of her. 

“Robert,” Jake said, leaning over towards his friend, “My wife does realize she has to be here, right? Or is she a bit. . . tied up?” 

“The Lady Mitchell knows she has to be here,” Robert nodded. Jake looked at him, a smirk forming on his lips. If there was one thing about Robert, the man was incapable of making a joke or understanding one. 

“Robert,” Jake chuckled, “Never change a damn thing about you!” 

Jake sat back on his throne, looking out at the guests who danced in front of the table. Every so often, he would catch the eye of a young maiden, and wink to them. Their skin would flush, and they would try to hide their giggle in their partner’s body. He looked over and noticed that his mother had a pleasant smile on her face, probably due to the fact that all three of her daughters were mingled amongst the crowd and that her only son was home from war. 

“The Lady Micthell and Lord Bradshaw!” The page yelled, catching Jake’s attention. 

In the center of the room, walked forward the most beautiful woman Jake had ever laid eyes on. Your jet black hair was pinned back, a golden tiara resting on your head. Your body was clad in the most elegant white dress with beautiful gold embroidery, Jake assumed it was made by the designers in North Island. Your skin was flawless, with not a single blemish or scar on it. And the way you walked into the room, was demanding all eyes be on you. The corset on your body was squeezing you just right, making your breasts perk up. 

Jake leaned down to whisper in Robert’s ear, “I wonder how quickly I could undo the corset.” 

“Jacob,” The Queen scolded her son. He smirked and stood up from his throne.

He stepped down from the high table, walking to meet you in the center of the room. Jake didn’t know much about Bradley Bradshaw, but he didn’t like the fact that he walked into his engagement ball with his girl on his arm. Bradley shot Jake a look, as the Prince’s green eyes traveled up and down your body. 

“Lady Mitchell,” Jake grabbed your hand and bowed to you. 

“My Prince,” You said, giving him a curtsey. You stood straight and turned to Bradley, giving him a curt nod. He squeezed your arm, before turning and making his leave. You looked down at the floor, listening to the fading footsteps of your friend, before looking up at the prince. 

“It is time for the first dance!” The page announced. 

Jake held his hand out for you to take, and you accepted. He walked you in a small circle, then pulled you into him. You rested a hand on his shoulder as one of his went to your waist. Jake took the lead as he moved you back and forth, side to side in the waltz. You kept your head high and remembered the dance lessons your maid had given you. However, dancing with Bradley was different than dancing with Jake. 

Bradley was always a shy leader, gently moving across the floor. His hand was almost feather-light as he would touch your waist. Jake, on the other hand, kept a strong grip on your waist, occasionally moving lower on your backside. Slowly, more couples came and joined you on the floor with Jake. 

“Surprised you can dance,” Jake said to you. 

“I have been taught,” You nodded, “I wished to have conversed with you earlier, my prince.” 

Jake smirked, “I’m sure you did,” He leaned in closer to you, his hot breath fanning your neck, “If you wanted a private meeting all you had to do was ask.” 

You gasped and looked up at him, “Your grace!” Jake expertly twirled you around and then pulled you back in close. You were very well aware of his hand that rested on your lower back, dangerously close to your bottom, “My Prince…” You scolded. 

“You smell of cherry blossoms,” He whispered, knowing that the precious oil must’ve been a gift from his sister Jane, “I wonder if you taste as sweet as you do smell.” 

You scoffed and gave him a shove, pushing his face away from you. If you weren’t feeling the eyes of some of the highest lords on your skin, you would’ve slapped the Prince. Instead, you promptly stomped on his foot, making him groan in pain. 

“Your tongue ought to be cut for the way you speak,” You cursed. 

“Trust me, my lady, you don’t want that,” Jake gently cupped your face and pressed his lips to yours. 

When you had dreamt of your first kiss, you always pictured it to be in the middle of the meadow behind your father’s house, and the person you were kissing was Bradley. But here you stood, in the middle of the grand hall, with the Prince of Brinefell’s lips on yours. You were frozen for a moment, before reaching and grabbing his wrists, pulling his hands from your face. There was a flash of hurt in Jake’s eyes as you turned from him, and walked out of the center, your hand covering your mouth. 

“Y/N!” He called out to you, but you had moved through the crowd. Jake noticed a flash of black and gold out of the corner of his eye, Lord Bradshaw, swiftly follow after you, “Fucking bastard.” 

Jake pushed his way through the crowd, following the exact footsteps you did. He cursed the gods for making you so short as his green eyes scanned the unfamiliar faces. He had barely reached the side of the grand hall when a loud scream erupted from the high table. 

The music was promptly stopped and the couples on the floor stopped dancing. Silence flooded the grand hall except for the sobs that were leaving the Queen’s mouth. The crowd seemed to part this time for Jake as he made his way back to the center of the floor. His mother was being held up by Robert, as Jane rubbed soothing circles on her back. Jake already knew what the words were going to be when Master Moore, who had a sad frown on his face, opened his mouth. 

“King George of Brinefell is dead!” 

— — — 

You hadn’t been that far from the grand hall to hear the announcement of the King’s death. You had stopped running when you heard the Queen’s loud scream ricochet throughout the hall. In an instant, the joyous occasion had ended and the Castle had turned from white and gold, to black and red. In the days following the death announcement; memorials started to arrive outside the palace gates. Pictures of the King had either been taken down or draped with a black sheet. The flags had all been lowered on the ships and buildings. The church bells had gone silent. 

The quietness of the Castle had made it even harder for you to try and make a routine. It had only been a week since you had moved to Landing Center. You hadn’t seen the Prince since the night of the engagement ball. You had found out from Robert, his confidant, that Jake had primarily been by the Queen’s side and overseeing the preparations for the King’s funeral. It broke your heart to think of the Queen being all alone in her chambers, but you were glad that Jake was there for her. 

“Excuse me, my lady, but we must get you dressed now,” One of your ladies, whom you had grown rather fond of, Clara, said as she entered your room. 

The day was dark and gloomy, as all days had seemed to be since the King’s death. You were still in your nightgown, swapping out your usual white one, for a black one to mark that you were in mourning as well. One of your favorite spots in your chambers had been the large window that overlooked Brinefell Bay. The glistening sea had always been your source of comfort, but now, it looked dark and dreary. 

“Yes, Clara, come in,” You said, closing the poetry book you were reading. It had been a gift from the Queen, and she said it had been the key to her successful life as a wife, Queen, and mother. You wondered now if it also had the key to handle the loss of a husband.

You stood from the window seat and walked into your dressing room. You stood with your arms out as the various maids and ladies came flocking to your side to undress you. It had been weird at first, having someone to do every little thing for you, from cutting your own food to turning the pages of your book. But slowly, you had gotten used to it. 

“My lady, Lord Bradshaw wishes to see you,” A maiden said to you, “Shall I tell him to wait for-” 

“No, Ethel, it is quite alright,” You said, “Draw the curtain please.” 

The maiden nodded and did as you instructed, pulling the heavy red curtain between the sitting room and dressing room closed. You heard Bradley thank her before walking as close to the curtain as he could get. You knew it was rather unbecoming of you to have Bradley in your room in such a state, but he was one of the only people who seemed to understand what you needed at this time. It was like living in deja vu, reliving your mother’s death all over again. Your father had shut you out, making you deal with the grief on your own. The only person you had to confide in was Bradley. 

“You worry about the Prince having your head, this is one sure way to solidify that one,” Bradley joked. You sucked in a sharp breath, both from his joke and from the way Clara tugged at your corset, “Sorry.” 

“Always playing the fool, Bradley,” You shook your head. 

“You are done, my lady,” Clara said. 

You thanked her, and pushed the curtain back, seeing Bradley indulge himself in one of the various bottles of wine that had been sitting on your bookshelf. They had been gifts from some of the noblemen. He was dressed in black as well, but for him, that was not a new sight. You hated the color black and had forbidden it to be in your closet. When the Castle went into mourning, you actually had to borrow a dress from Jake’s sister Margeret. 

“What is it that you are looking for, Lord Bradshaw?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“I came to see how you are fairing, Lady Mitchell,” Bradley said, pouring both himself and you a goblet of wine, “I know this is not easy for you. I wanted to see how you are getting along with the Prince.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I would get along better with a goat than the Prince.” 

“Not good?” 

“Awful,” You sighed and sat down on the couch. Bradley took up residence in the chair in front of you, “I have tried everything, Bradley, to get him to talk to me, but he won’t.” 

The night of the King’s death, you didn’t expect Jake to come and seek you out. You knew that he was going to be with his mother and sisters. However, you did expect it to be going on for nearly a week. You had seen him around palace grounds, and every time you tried to strike up a conversation, trying to get to know him and see how he was fairing. But he didn’t seem to have the time of day for you. You changed up your tactic, deciding to leave gifts for him in his chambers. 

It started with having the baker make extra sweet cakes for him at dinner, except the cakes were almost always left on the table when you went to look in the middle of the night. Then, you had found some paintings in the square you thought he might like and had them delivered to his chambers. But you say one of the pageboys carrying them out with the trash the next morning. And last night, you had decided to give him one of your mother’s poetry books, leaving it yourself, right outside his door with a handwritten note. But, the book had been returned, with the note still attached, to right outside your chamber door this morning. 

“I don’t know what to do,” You shook your head, “How can I do my duty if he won’t even speak or look at me!” 

“Seduce him.” 

“Bradley!” 

“What!?” He chuckled, setting his cup down, “I am serious. What is the worst that can happen? You are already betrothed,” You scoffed and tossed a pillow at him, “He is the Prince of Brinefell. The Crown Whore Prince. You have to get on his level. Engage in the things he likes. Seduction has more benefits than harm in this case, Ducky. It might just be the only way for you to get through to him.”

“I don’t want to sell my virtue.” 

“You’ll have to sell it eventually,” Bradley shrugged. 

“I… I don’t know about this,” You fiddled with your fingers as your ears started to turn red. It took Bradley a moment before it dawned on him. 

“You’ve never-“ 

“Hush!” You basically leaped from your seat and covered Bradley’s mouth with your hand, “By Gods, shut your mouth!” Bradley chuckled and removed your hand. 

“I can not say that I am surprised but I also am surprised. You do know who you spawn from, right?” 

You rolled your eyes and sat back on your knees, “I have read about how women seduce their husbands. I know… what to do. It’s just how do I actually do it?” 

“Well,” Bradley said and shifted in his seat, so he was sitting back against the couch cushions, “Here’s my advice.” 

— — — 

It was late, the witching hour, as you carefully walked through the halls of the castle. You had to dodge the watchful eye of the guards and maids. If you were caught out this late, the rumors would run wild. You had already heard the gossip about you. Some of the maids had recognized your familiar features to your sister and wondered if you were as liberated as she was. 

The night air was cool against your skin. You had dug into the back of your robe closet to find a nightgown that was a gift for Allison. It was the lightest shade of pink, with the finest traces of lace on the skirt. Your cheeks heated as you felt your nipples harden as the brush of cold air on your skin. The top of the dress was sheer, giving little to the imagination, but was just perfect for what you had planned. You pulled your dressing gown tight against your body as you made your way down the candlelit hall. 

“My lady?” You gasped and turned, coming face to face with Lord Floyd. 

“My lord Floyd,” You greeted, and he gave you a small bow. 

“What are you doing out so late? It is unsafe for a woman to-” 

“I could not find sleep,” You spoke, cutting him off and pulling your dressing gown tightly against your body. Lord Floyd’s blue eyes bore into you and it felt like he knew what your true intentions were. He was best friends with Prince Jake, he knew his every move. 

But, if Lord Floyd knew what you were up to, he saved you the embarrassment of saying it out loud, “Very well,” He nodded his head, “You ought to be on your way. It is not safe or proper for a lady of your renown to be walking the castle at night.” 

“Yes, Lord Floyd,” You bowed your head as he walked past you, going back on his way. You let out a slow breath and continued your journey to the Prince’s room. 

— — — 

The fire felt warm as Jake sat in front of it, a goblet of wine in his hand, his green eyes locked on the orange flame in front of him. The flame’s warmth was the only thing that Jake felt these days. After spending hours tending to his mother and setting preparations for his father’s funeral, Jake was drained emotionally and physically. He had never seen his mother so broken and lost. She was always a force to be reckoned with, now, Jake feared that he’d be planning her funeral soon. He sighed, bowing his head slightly and bringing the chalice up to his lips. No amount of wine in the world could help numb the pain in his heart.

A gentle knock at his door pulled him from his wallowing thoughts. Jake furrowed his eyebrows as he looked over at the cedar door. If it was any of his men, they knew to just walk in unless the door was locked. Another knock had Jake on his feet, walking to open the door. A small gasp sounded out as he pulled the door open, coming face to face with his future bride. 

“What are you doing?” Jake asked, and stepped out into the hallway, looking both ways to see if anyone was around. He quickly ushered her into the room, shutting the door and locking it, “Have you gone mad? Wondering the palace at night?” 

You gulped, shaking your head, “N-No, your grace,” You quickly curstied, showing him the respect he deserved. You look up at him, your doe eyes wide. 

Jake gestured for you to stand up, and you obliged standing up. His eyes raked over your body, taking in the red dressing coat and the light pink skirt that poked out underneath. You froze in your spot as Jake stepped towards you, his fingers going to the tie of your dressing coat. He pulled the tie, letting it fall open revealing your nightgown. Jake sucked in a breath as he took in the sight of your breasts clothed in sheer linen. 

“What is it you come here for, my Lady?” Jake asked, his voice low.

“To please you, my Prince,” You said, your eyes not leaving his. 

In an instant you felt his lips on yours, the taste of wine on his tongue. You had never been kissed like this, and it sent a sort of heat spreading through your body. Your hands quickly went to his blonde locks, tugging on them slightly. He groaned as his hands pushed the dressing coat from your body, letting the red fabric pool on the ground. Jake walked the two of you backward, leading you to his bed. The back of your knees hit the mattress, and Jake gently lifted you up to lay you down on the bed. He crawled up your body, one of his hands going under your nightgown, lightly tracing up your thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest as Jake’s lips grazed up your neck, placing feather-light kisses on your skin. You felt heat rise in your eyes as his hand drew near your cunt. You had never been touched there, and to be touched there now, made your heart race and your stomach flip with nerves. Jake must’ve sensed your anxiety as he settled his hand on your bare thigh and his lips stopped below your ear. 

“Hath, you lain in the bed of another?” Jake whispered in your ear. 

You sucked in a breath and looked at him. Your eyes were glassy with unshed tears, “No, my Lord.” 

Every fiber in Jake’s being was screaming at him. Part of him wanted you. There was no denying that you were an attractive woman. Your beauty was one that he’d only seen in painting and read about in poetry. The other part of him wanted to savor the innocence that you had. He knew soon enough that the two of you would lay together in the marital bed and be forced to perform married couple duties. He knew girls like you, girls who had been raised to be noblewomen and princesses. He knew that keeping your virtue until the wedding was important. 

Jake sighed as he pulled his hand out from under your nightgown, pulling the dress back down to cover your skin. He laid his stomach on your abdomen, running his thumb over your clothed hipbone. 

You were confused as you looked down at Jake. You weren’t sure if this was a part of sex or what was happening. Bradley hadn’t told you about this part. 

“My lord?” You asked quietly. 

“Get out,” Jake mumbled. He sat up and turned his back to you, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He waited a moment, before standing up and walking out of his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. 

A small escaped your lips, as you tried to bite back the tears that had started to fall.

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Love's Awakening

Summary/Request: Hi babe 😘 😚,

Loving the our little girl universe! Wondering if you would take this request. Don't worry if you don't but how about that one night Jake and Bradley come home late and their daughter brought a boy home to do the dirty... And they don't know how to react to their little girl not being so little anymore.

Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x Daughter!Reader, Jake Seresin x Daughter!Reader, Bradley Bradshaw x Jake Seresin, OC Mason Floyd x Y/N Bradshaw-Seresin

Warnings: fluff, implied smut

Master List

Our Little Girl

A/N: Reader and Mason are 16 years old

In all fairness, her dads did say they were going to be at The Hard Deck for a while, like well into the night. So she didn't think anything of it when she brought her boyfriend over to the house to hang out and maybe make out and take it a little too far.

Her boyfriend you may be wondering is none other than Mason Kolten Floyd, Bob's teenage son, they had been friends since diapers. At first, the thought of them two dating repealed each other and vowed to never get together. But that was when they were younger and thought all boys and girls had cooties. Now teenagers they absolutely have fallen in love with each and don't want to let the other go. Of course, it took a hot minute for them to realize that but everyone was hoping they would get together.

It was a Friday night meaning that it was soon to be the weekend and the Seresin-Bradshaw residence couldn't wait to sit back and relax. The Daggers were having their traditional meet at The Hard Deck leaving the kids behind and enjoying themselves. Y/N had just gotten home from school to find her Dad and Pops already at home and in the kitchen. When she walked in she set her backpack down and put her keys on the hook by the door. Bradley was the first one to turn around when he heard the door shut. "Hey, Honey!" He said excitedly which made Jake turn around.

"Hey, Sweets!" Jake said with the same excitement. They both came over to her and hugged her which she gladly accepted but couldn't help with a confused look on her face.

"Um hi?" She said but sounded more like a question. When she broke away from Bradley and they saw the look on her face it was a mixture of Bradley and Jake. "What are you doing home so early?" She asked moving further into the kitchen and swiping a piece of raw cookie dough from the bowl they gave her only parents give when their child does something they don't like. Jake and Bradley walked over and Bradley took the bowl and set it away from his daughter. She just gave the signature Seresin smirk and moved to jump onto the counter and again her parents gave her another look like she was not supposed to do that but they let it pass.

"We will be going out to The Hard Deck tonight for the traditional Friday meet-up with the other Daggers so you're on your own for supper. I hope that's ok." Jake said and she nodded of course that was ok with her that meant that she could eat whatever she wanted and that included fast food.

"Yea that is perfectly fine." She said nodding enthusiastically. The parents already knew what she was going to get and they were ok with it every now and then but just not all the time. But they're going to have a talk with Slider about getting their little girl addicted to McDonald's.

"But to make up for us not being here. I'm making mom's famous cookies." Bradley said as he finished mixing the dough and started to spoon it out. She tried to sneak another bite but he smacked her hand away and gave her the look, she knew the look, but she looked him right in the eye and stole more. She just smirked while doing so.

"What time are you meeting them there?" She asked as Jake passed her some grapes that he was eating.

"Leaving at 7 and will be out for well into the night probably." Bradley said picking up some grapes after he had put the cookies in. "Now off the counter." He said and she rolled her eyes but got off anyways.

"Well, I'm gonna start homework and figure out what I'm gonna do with the house to myself." She said grabbed her backpack and headed off upstairs. She knew what she was going to do but couldn't let them know that. The truth is that she was going to bring Mason over to watch a movie or two, eat junk food, and fool around.

While she was upstairs Bradley and Jake were getting the cookies out. They were being the overbearingly cute couple. If Y/N had seen it she would've faked gagged and they would've laughed. When 6:50 PM rolled around they called her down. "Y/N!" Bradley yelled and that had her practically tumbling down the stairs.

"Yea? Yes? I'm here." She said as Jake caught her before she fell. They chuckled.

"We're leaving. Cookies are on the cooling rack." Bradley said as he was putting on shoes and grabbing keys as Jake put on his shoes too.

"Remember if you need us call and we'll be home in just a matter of seconds. If you can't get a hold of any of us call The Hard Deck or Penny." Jake said standing up.

"You got it, Pops." She said and they came over and kissed her on the forehead and exchanged 'I love you' and they were off. She stood at the window and watched as they were just out of view when she texted Mason.

Dad and Pops are gone. Want to come over?

He replied in just a few seconds.

Mason: You know I do. Want me to get McDonald's?

She smiled

You know I do.

Mason: Be there in a few minutes. Your regular?

She smiled again

You're the best boyfriend ever.

Mason: Well, you're the best girlfriend ever.

She smiled he was truly the best boyfriend ever, but then again Bob was his father so what do you expect? She had moved to the couch when she started texting him.

Some boring TV show was playing in the background while she waited. When she heard the distinct sound of Mason's F-150 pull into the driveway. She jumped up and ran to the door and opened and saw him get out with the food. Mason closed the door and turned and smiled at his girlfriend. He shut the door and walked over to her and kissed her and she kissed him back. They walked in and went to the couch and began eating while they put on a movie. They were cuddled into each other and eating. They laughed and made comments throughout the movie.

8 PM rolled around and they were into their second movie. The movie playing was more intimate than the other. They came up to a steamy scene in the movie and they looked at each other and started to lean in until they were kissing. Mason took off his sweatshirt he had on and threw onto the ground.

Mason had moved Y/N until she was lying on the couch and he was on top of her. Her arms were still around his neck and he was kissing her neck. One of his hands found its way under her shirt and bra to her breast and the other was on her waist. They heard Y/N's phone buzz but they ignored it and continued. Mason moved from kissing her to kissing her neck and she turned to give him access. Slight moaning was coming from her. One of Y/N's hands moved down to his clothed dick and started to slowly stroke it. They were so wrapped up in a heavy make-out session they didn't hear Bradley's Bronco pull up and the engine shutting off or the door opening and closing.

Mason and Y/N didn't know they had company until Jake's voice boomed into the room. "What is going on in here?!" He shouted and that had both teenagers pulling away and jumping up. Any sort of sexual feelings they had quickly died out. It was only 10 PM, what were they doing at home when they were supposed to be out at The Hard Deck for well into the night? Their hair was a mess, their clothes were wrinkled and their faces were flushed.

"Pops? Dad? What are you doing home?" She asked.

"We decided to cut it short because the power went out at The Hard Deck." Bradley said being the in-control parent while Jake freaked out. Of course, Bradley was freaking out his baby was growing up but he knew it was bound to happen.

"You didn't answer my question." Jake said crossing his arms and looking at Bradley who had an expressionless look on his face. Both teenagers were silent they didn't know what to say.

"It's not what it looks like Pops." She said

"It looks like our little girl was just about to have sex on our couch with her boyfriend." Jake said.

"Ok, so it is what it looks like." She said Mason had been quiet. He was just hoping that a black hole would open and swallow him up. Jake threw his hands up in the air and rolled his eyes and had an exasperated look on his face. He turned to his husband.

"Are you not going to say anything?" Jake asked him and Bradley just stood there with his hands on his hips. He sighed and hung his head and then pulled Jake into the guest bedroom. Mason and Y/N just looked at each other and decided to sit down on the couch they held hands and waited.

Jake was pacing around the room while Bradley leaned upon the closed door and watched. "Why are you not freaking out?" He asked stopping to look at Bradley.

"Oh trust me I am. But having both of us freaking out isn't going to help the situation. To be honest you tend to freak out more." Bradley said walking to his husband and taking his hands and leading him to the bed.

"But Bradley. Our daughter, our little girl was just about to have sex with her boyfriend. Bob's son." Jake said still freaking out.

"Yes Jake I know. But I trust our little girl to make the right choices. We raised her well. Our daughter is smart." Bradley said and caressed Jake's face and he leaned into the touch. "Now let's go out there and talk to them with clear heads. Ok?" Bradley asked and Jake nodded.

"Ok. I'm good." He said and they kissed and headed out to the two teenagers. When they got out the TV was off and the living room was clean and the two teens were sitting on the couch. Y/N had put on Mason's sweatshirt which was a little big on her. They looked up at the two men. "We talked. I want to say sorry for freaking out on you." Jake said and they nodded.

"We know you're growing up and having these feelings that you may not understand yet. When you do decide to act on these feelings please come to us or Bob. We just want you to be safe. You're a smart girl and boy and know you were raised right." Bradley said being the calm, cool, and collected parent.

"We want to be grandparents but we don't want to be grandparents just yet." Jake added and everyone chuckled about it. "It's getting late. Mason why don't you go and call Bob and let him know you're staying here tonight since it's late." Jake said and he nodded and headed off outside to the backyard.

"I'm really sorry Pops and Dad." She said looking down Jake sat down beside her and Bradley kneeled in fron of her.

"Nothing to apologize for. We were 16 once and we get it. Just please come to us before you do anything. Goose and Momma Carole would be too thrilled about being great-grandparents but they would spoil the hell out of the baby but they would want you to wait too." Jake's said.

"Just like they spoiled you. We really do want grandchildren but not until you are in your 30s." Bradley said and you all chuckled again. They hugged and she knew she could count on them for anything at any time. Y/N loved her Dad and Pops and nothing is going to change that.

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Court of Thieves || Chapter 2

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: The Lady Mitchell has traveled to Landing Center to meet her new husband. Prince Jake returns from war and comes face to face with his father's ailing condition

word count: 4.7k

warnings: mentions of death, language, era-related misogyny, talks of pregnancy, arranged marriage, mentions of infidelity.

You wanted to put up a fight. You wanted to scream and yell and throw things and curse at your father for signing you away before you even had a chance. From a young age, you knew that you wouldn’t have much say in the matter of who you married. Your father was part of the King’s guard, a trusted swordsman in his younger days. Whatever marriage you were to spawn was going to be for a political alliance, but your father promised you that it was going to be with your blessing. 

“I hear that the Prince isn’t so bad,” Bradley said, interrupting your reading. You peered over your book at him and he just shrugged, “It could be worse.” 

You closed your book. You had to travel through the night via ship to the mainland of Brinefell. Now you were in a carriage to take you to Landing Center, where the King resided. . . your new home, “How could it be worse? I am betrothed to a man who’s called the Crown Whore Prince.” 

The rumors of the Prince of Brinefell’s escapades were vast. He surrounded himself with pretty women, tearing through them like a man on a hunt. He didn’t care that he sullied their maidenheads, and had no intention of wedding them. The Prince was a smooth talker and had a pretty face to back it up. 

“Those are just stories, you know that,” Bradley said, reaching across the small carriage cabin to grab your hand. 

“And my sister’s stories? Those are just rumors?” 

Bradley sucked in a breath. Pete had sent his eldest daughter Allison to be a part of the Queen’s court. The Queen was friends with Pete’s late wife, Penelope, and did him a favor by inviting Allison. Allison was a beautiful young girl, with dark hair and striking green eyes. Her fair skin had many guards falling for her and pleading with Pete for his daughter’s hand in marriage. However, Pete turned them down, knowing that his wild daughter needed to calm down before she became a wife. What he didn’t know was that Allison had been caught entertaining the Prince in his chambers late at night. 

“Try and think positive, ducky,” Bradley said, “You won’t have to do a single thing. No chores, no studies, no filling glasses of wine. You’ll be sitting at high tables with fancy cheeses and wines.” 

That part of the deal did sound appealing to you. You had always envied the ladies of the Queen’s court when you’d go to balls with your father. They always had the fanciest dresses, their hair done in neat updos and stylings. You had heard a rumor that they have a feast every night of roasted pig and quail eggs. The King had hired a personal cook from France to make every meal for him and his family. 

But even with all the good points Bradley was giving, you were thinking of at least two negatives to each one. The biggest one was losing the person who knew you best. You and Allison were never as close as you and Bradley are. You knew that the second the carriage stopped on the Castle grounds, Bradley would be stopped from following you. He would be pushed away and possibly into the arms of another. 

You weren’t sure when the crush on Bradley had started, you think it was around the time that you became a woman. Bradley had always been a dashing man, and he grew into his looks as he got older. He now supported a beard, that helped define his prominent cheekbones. His hair color was lighter now that it was summer, a mix of different color brown curls. You loved his curls, they were always so soft. Your favorite thing was running your fingers through his hair as his head lay in your lap while you read him poetry under the sycamore tree. 

And now, those days of laying in the sun with Bradley were gone. 

Bradley liked this whole situation almost as much as you did, maybe even a little less. He knew you well enough that you wouldn’t put up a fight. You weren’t as strong-willed as Allison or your father, you were much like your mother. Quiet, and respectful, but could still stand up for yourself when needed. Bradley knew that Pete would try and marry you off if you weren’t already promised to another. He had asked your father for your hand on multiple occasions, telling him that there was no one better than himself to protect and care for you. Pete knew that Bradley was probably right, but he had already made the promise of your hand to the King. 

“Bradley,” You said softly, “W-what if I can’t produce an heir?” 

Bradley’s eyebrows furrowed at your question, “What do you mean? Don’t you cycle?” 

You blushed and nodded, “Yes, but that doesn’t mean anything. What if I can not successfully give the King an heir? A son. . . What if he casts me aside like my poor cousins were by their King.” 

You were broken when you received the news about your dear cousins and the fate of their marriage. The accusations of witchcraft, incest, and adultery made your stomach turn. Then knowing of the brutal end they both received, their heads separating from their bodies, kept you awake at night. Bradley had held you as you woke up screaming in terror as the replay of your cousin’s execution played over and over behind your eyes. 

“I assure you, ducky, no one will let that happen to you,” Bradley said, squeezing your hand, “No queen has ever-” 

“No queen had ever been put to death before Anne either,” You swallowed. 

“Y/N,” Bradley said sternly, “The people of Brinefell are fair and just. They won’t allow the King to do something. . . so barbaric. Olivia the Great’s ghost would reign down on him if he did.” 

You gave him a small smile as the carriage came to a stop. You felt bile rise in your throat as you peered out and saw the entrance of the Castle. Bradley got out of the carriage first and walked around to your side, opening the door and giving you his arm to help you out. You squeezed his hand as you walked towards the entrance. The castle in real life looked more magnificent than the paintings had depicted. Beautiful white limestone stood at least three stories tall, with black framed windows nearly every three feet. The points of the steeples ascended high into the sky. 

A guard had led you and Bradley through the castle, and it was even more gorgeous on the inside. Marble floors where you swore you could see your reflection. High above you were candle chandeliers, the steel made into intricate patterns. Magnificent oil paintings of past rulers are on the wall. The most notable one was that of Queen Olivia, the Great. You felt as though her green eyes were following you as you walked by it. The large windows let in natural light, making the castle look even bigger on the inside. 

The guard pushed open a set of doors to a rather large meeting room. You sucked in a breath as you came face to face with nobles, lords, and priests. Your hand squeezed Bradley’s, and he set his free hand on top of your hand. The two of you shared a brief look, and he smiled at you. 

In the back of the room, stood two large thrones. You knew what the room was without having to be told. A gorgeous woman was sitting in one of the thrones, clad in the most beautiful purple dress that you had ever seen, and a beautiful crown sat upon her head. The seat next to her was empty, but you still felt the King’s presence in the room. 

“Your Majesty, Lady Y/N Mitchell of North Island,” The guard said, introducing you. 

You let go of Bradley’s arm and took a step forward, curtseying in front of the Queen, “Your Majesty.” 

You kept your head down as you heard the Queen rise from her seat. She stepped down from the throne and walked up to you. You lifted your head and stood to your height. The Queen was even prettier in person; perfectly pale skin, big brown eyes, and dark brown hair that went straight down her back. Even though she was one of the most important women in Brinefell, all your fear had washed away as she smiled at you. 

“Y/N,” The Queen said softly, “You are an image of your mother.” 

“You knew my mother?” 

The Queen gave a soft nod, “That I did. She was a dear friend of mine. The news of her passing upset me, I am so sorry.”  

You hardly remembered your mother. She had died in childbirth when you were three. You weren’t sure if the memories you had of her were your own, or if they were adapted from the stories your father and grandparents had told you. But what you did know about your mother, Penelope, was that she was a vision. 

Penelope had inherited a century-old gene with beautiful silver-like hair, light blue eyes, and skin that made her look sunkissed. Her beauty went further than just on the outside. She had a heart of gold, spending her time raising her children without the help of nannies (which was rather unheard of), studying philosophy, and writing poetry. Your father had gifted you a couple of her journals when you left for the Landing. 

“But let us not dwell on sad times,” The Queen smiled, “We have much to celebrate,” She looked around the room, “Lady Y/N is engaged to my son, The Prince!” The room filled with cheers and applause as you blushed and nodded your head. The Queen held her arm out to you, and you took it, “Come now, child, we have much to discuss.” 

You looked over your shoulder at Bradley, who gave you a small nod, “It is okay. I have an appointment with an old friend.” 

The Queen looked between the two of you, “Join us for dinner tonight. . .” 

“Oh, my regards, your majesty,” Bradley said and bowed to the Queen, “Sir Bradley Bradshaw, of the House Bradshaw.” 

“I thought you looked familiar,” The Queen said, “Your father was a brave swordsman. Please, do us the honor and join us for dinner.” 

“As the Queen insists. Farwell for now,” Bradley said and took his leave from the room. 

You walked arm and arm with the Queen through the halls of the castle. You half listened as she rambled on about certain paintings, or gifts that lined the walls. She talked about her two daughters; Saera and Margeret. Jane was off studying in Earthmoor and Margeret had just had her first child. The Queen also explained a bit more about your impending wedding to her son. 

Years ago, when the first battle of the Rebellion started, your father headed the King’s army out of North Island.  He took his soldiers to Bearhaven to try and control the rebels. It was supposed to be an easy-fought battle, but the battle had quickly turned bloody. Desperate and out of options, your father wrote to the King begging for his intervention. Brinefell had been in a time of peace & serenity, The King wanted to keep the fighting out of his city as much as he could. Your father knew that writing him would only cause the rebellion to grow if the crown got involved, so your father offered the King your hand in return for help. 

“Your wedding was supposed to happen long ago,” The Queen said, as you sat in her chambers, “But the rebellion has expanded and now Argerus is at odds with us.” 

“But isn’t the Prince fighting in Argerus? How will he have time to come back and wed?” You asked. 

The Queen’s smile fell as she looked down at the cup in her hand, “I’m afraid the rush of the marriage is because of my husband, The King. He is ill, and dying. Because Jake is so young, and because of the past history of young, unwed rulers, the council passed a law that the heir must be wed before they take the throne.” 

You knew of the stories of the disastrous reign of King Francis, the current King’s older brother. The council had found King Francis incompetent in his job and removed him. King George was quickly instated and took over the ruling of Brinefell. 

“I believe the King wanted to see you,” The Queen said, “He is usually awake at this time. Shall we go see?” You nodded and stood from your chair. The Queen, again, hooked her arm through yours and walked down the hall to the King’s chambers, “Do not let him alarm you, child, his sickness has taken over his body, but his mind is still intact.” 

“Yes, your majesty,” You said. 

The Queen pushed the door open to her husband’s chambers and the two of you walked inside. The King was laid in bed, a curtain of sheer white cloth surrounding the bed. You could remember that your mother’s bed looked like this only days before her death. It was traditional to have curtains covering the bed of a dying person. A physician had once told you, that dying was hard, brutal work. It wasn’t easy for family members to see their loved one dying, and they believed that the dying deserved some privacy. 

“Your majesty,” A man bowed to the Queen as he stood from the side of the bed. 

“Sir Cromwell,” The Queen greeted, “How is my dear husband?” 

“Awake,” Sir Cromwell said, “He just received morphine, and will retire soon.” 

“Is that-” A rumble of a voice sounded out from behind the curtain. Even ill, his voice was still strong and powerful. 

You took a step forward and curtseyed for the King, though you knew he probably could not see you, “Your Majesty, it is I, the Lady Mitchell.” 

The King let out a small gasp, followed by coughing. Sir Cromwell was right by his side, helping him sit up. He then drew back the white curtains, allowing you to see the King’s face for the first time. The King looked pale, his blonde hair was thin on top. But his eyes, oh those eyes, ever so powerful and green, just like Queen Olivia’s were in her painting. 

“Please, Sir Cromwell, help me out of bed,” The King said. Both Sir Cromwell and the Queen rushed to his side. She grabbed her husband’s legs and helped swing them over the side of the bed, while Sir Cromwell helped the King sit up. You stood back and watched as they helped the ailing King stand to his feet. The Queen wrapped her arm around his waist and put one of his around her shoulders. 

“Where to, my King?” The Queen asked. 

“Anywhere you lead me, my love,” The King said to his wife. The Queen blushed and patted his chest, before leading him to a chair in the sitting area of his chambers. Once the King was sat in his chair, the Queen moved about, fixing his pillows and putting a blanket over his lap. She lifted his feet so Sir Cromwell could slide a footrest underneath them. 

“My Queen, you do too much for me,” The King grabbed her hand to stop her fretting. 

“My job is to serve you, my King,” The Queen kissed her husband’s forehead, before taking a step back and curtseying for him, “I will leave you to do your business, your majesty,” She stepped back, allowing you to take a step forward and sit in the chair beside the King. 

The King shifted in his chair, and you turned your head towards him, “She worries too much.” 

“A good wife ought to worry,” You said and the King nodded in agreement, “My mother used to worry for my father when he was away at battle. I remember her praying and writing all the time. She waited on him even on her death bed.”

“A wife’s job is never easy,” The King said, “I find her job more strenuous than mine. A King is nothing without his Queen. She is the true bearer of the Crown and its legacy. I can not continue on without her, and my son without you.” 

You let the King’s words wash over you. The realization of what your role meant finally hit you. Your marriage to the Prince went further than just repaying a debt to the Crown. You were needed to create a legacy not only for the Prince but for your family as well. Your father had no sons, his legacy ends when he dies. A son would mean the house Mitchell lives on after your father dies. A son would mean the crown carries on. 

“I understand, your majesty,” You said and took the King’s hand, “I promise I will do all I can to assure the Crown stays with your kin. I promise to do my role for you and your Prince, as well as my father.” 

The King nodded his head, “I know you will, Princess.” A flash of pride filled your chest at the mention of your new title, “Now, I hear you are skilled with a bow and arrow, tell me about it.” You chuckled and started in on your training with the weapon. 

— — — 

Jake was tired. As soon as Master Brook left his tent the other night, he packed up his saddlebags and travel all the way back to Landing Center. He had hoped that he wasn’t too late, that his father hadn’t passed before he could come and speak to him. Jake felt relief when he rode into Landing Center and saw his father’s colors still flying in the wind. 

When he arrived, he was met with his father’s most trusted confidants at the gate. Master Moore was his brother-in-law, the King’s hand, and Lord Floyd. Jake didn’t really care for Master Moore. The man had been trying to get Jake removed from the line of succession and reinstate his uncle, Francis instead. 

“Robert!” Jake shouts as he dismounts his horse, “Oh how I missed you!” Bob rolls his eyes as he took a step forward and greeted the Prince, “Where is the cake and party? The Prince has returned!” 

“Our apologies, your majesty,” Master Moore said, “Maybe if you weren’t returning to see your dying father, we would’ve had cake and whores.” Jake glared at the man as he took off his riding gloves and handed the reigns of his horse to one of the keepers. Bob could sense the tension between the two of them and stepped in the middle. 

“Your mother would like to see you,” Bob said, “In her chambers.” Jake nodded and headed to her, but not before sending another glare toward Master Moore. The man returned Jake’s icy stare before turning to Lord Floyd. 

Jake smiled politely at his mother’s ladies as he walked into her room. The Queen was by the fireplace, sewing probably a new shirt for the King. One of the ladies whispered in her ear, and she turned to see her only son standing in her room. She smiled and rose from her seat, going to hug him, but stopped short. 

“My dear son,” The Queen frowned, licking her thumb and wiping away some dirt on Jake’s cheek, “Do you ever take a bath?” 

Jake smirked, “Yes, but cleansing myself is not what I do in them.” 

“Oh Gods,” The Queen shook her head. She walked back over to her chair by the fireplace and took a seat, Jake took one across from her. A servant placed a tray of fruits and cheeses in between them, as well as two cups of wine. The Queen thanked the servant and picked up one of the glasses, taking a sip of the red liquid. “Have you seen your father?” 

“No,” Jake answered, “Was met at the gate by Robert and that cunt Moore-” 

“Master,” The Queen corrected, “Master Moore.” 

“He is a cunt,” Jake said, “He has only one loyalty and that is to the bastard Francis-” 

“Prince!” The Queen corrected again, “Act as though you are the son of the King, please.” 

Jake rolled his eyes, “Yes mother.” 

“You must see him, but please, take a bath first, you smell of blood and shit,” The Queen cursed and Jake laughed. The only time he ever heard her curse was when he was with her. She held herself to the highest standard, being the Queen consort. It was refreshing to drop her facade and be herself with her children. Not many can say they’ve seen the Queen drunk and racing knights in the garden, “You also will be meeting your new wife tonight.” 

“Ah, so it is true,” Jake sat back in his chair, spreading his legs. The Queen scoffed and kicked his knee. He laughed as he crossed his leg over the other, “Betrothed to Mistress Mitchell? Doesn’t she lay in bed with Lord Bradshaw.” 

His mother gasped, “Jacob,” He shrugged and looked over at her, “It is unbecoming of a prince to talk about his future bride in such a way.”

“She will not be a true Queen if she comes from the bed of another man. All the heirs spawned will be true bas-” He was cut off by a sharp kick to his knee, “Ow!” 

“You should be glad I didn’t strike you with my hand,” The Queen pointed. Jake suddenly remembered why they called her the ‘Fire Queen’. She could get quite the temper sometimes, “The Lady Mitchell is untouched and does not lay in the bed of another. You will marry her and make strong heirs to the throne.” 

Jake grumbled and picked up a cherry, biting it off the stem and popping it in his mouth, “I have something I must admit though,” He said, a smirk on his lips as he sat up, sticking the stem in his mouth, “I know her sister.”

The Queen narrowed her eyes at her son, “In what regards?” 

“Intimately,” He pulled the now-knotted cherry stem out of his mouth. 

“Oh Gods,” The Queen shook her head. She stood up from her chair and grabbed her bible. She didn’t say another word as she left her chambers but Jake knew she was more than likely going to the chapel to pray. 

— — — 

Jake had listened to his mother and took a bath as she had asked. It felt good to finally bathe in warm water instead of having to find a creak. He washed his hair with sweet-smelling soaps and oils. He made sure to scrub his hands, getting all traces of blood off of them. In battle, Jake tried his best to not get his hands bloody, but sometimes it was inevitable. 

His green eyes trained on the reddened skin as memories of battle flooded his mind. The screams of brave men, scared women and terrified children filtered into his mind. He told his men to try and leave the women and children unharmed, but occasionally they would get in the way. Jake had held one too many wives back as their husband’s heads were cut off for disobeying the crown. 

Leaning back in the bathtub, Jake looked at the ceiling. Could he even be a good husband with all the things he had seen? His father had never been to war, he had never seen the terrors that were out there. Could Jake be the husband that he was supposed to be when he has killed? Could someone even look at him and want to lay in bed with him? Jake was a murderer, he was not a good man. How was he supposed to raise sons to be good men? 

“Your grace,” His servant called for him. Jake looked over the side of the tub, “It is time to dress you.” Jake sighed and nodded, climbing out of the tub. 

He got dressed in his traditional evening dinner wear; a black and gold tunic, black pants, and boots. He made sure to shave his face, knowing how his mother hated facial hair. Jake chuckled to himself as he shaved in the mirror his servant held. 

“First rule I am making as King; I get to have a beard,” Jake said, rinsing the shaving blade. 

“Yes, your grace,” The servant said. 

When Jake was shaved, dressed and the formal crown had been placed on his head, he grabbed his sword and headed to his father’s chambers. Various lords, ladies, and noblemen bowed to him as he passed through the halls. The great hall was going to be full as a crowd was gathering to celebrate the Prince’s new engagement. Jake would much rather slice his own throat than have to dance in front of people he didn’t even know. 

“He is unruly,” Jake heard his mother’s voice as he approached his father’s chambers. He furrowed his eyebrows and everso quietly stepped into the room. He hid behind a drape, as his mother kneeled before his father who sat in a chair, “I worry how he will treat her.” 

Jake looked down at his shoes, feeling a pang of hurt in his heart. He knew he wasn’t always the nicest, or the most thoughtful, but he believed he would make a good husband. He could be respectful when he needed to be. He knew that this whole marriage was nothing more than a business transaction. Jake could turn on his flirtatious side, send this girl a few smiles, and make her feel good in bed so she could carry his heirs. 

“He is my son,” Jake lifted his head up at the sound of his father’s weak voice. He had only been gone a month, and his father had deteriorated so quickly, “He will treat her well.” Jake cleared his throat, as he stepped around the drape he was hiding behind. The King’s face lit up as he walked in. Jake bowed to his father and mother, before taking the chair next to him. 

“How was Argerus?”

“Brutal,” Jake answered, “Not sure if Mother wants to hear of my conquests.” 

“No, she does not,” The Queen stood up, “I shall see you at dinner. My King,” The Queen curtseyed before them both and left the room. 

Jake sighs and looks at his dad. The King was sick before he sent Jake to fight in Argerus, now, it was amazing that he was even still alive. His color was gone, he looked like a gust of wind could break his bones, and his eyes were half open. Suddenly, Jake felt sick as he realized he was about to take over for his father ruling the country. There was still so much that he didn’t know. 

“I can hear your thoughts,” The King said barely above a whisper, gaining his son’s attention, “Speak them.” 

“I don’t know if I am ready,” Jake mumbled, “There are lots I do not know yet. You have more to teach-” 

The King held his hand up, “My job has been done, Jacob. You know all you need.” Jake scoffed, shaking his head. He went to stand up, but the King reached his hand out. Jake took it without hesitation, “You know more. . . than you know. . . You need. . . trust.” 

“If you say in Master-” 

“In her.” 

“Her?” 

“Your Queen.” 

Jake furrowed his eyebrows and opened to ask his father what he means, but the King fell into a fit of coughs. Jake’s heart started racing as he stood from his chair and helped his father lean forward. He rubbed the King’s back as he continued coughing, grimacing as he noticed pink droplets landing on the white blanket in front of him. Sir Cromwell entered the room and walked to the King. 

“Your majesty, we must get you to bed,” Sir Cromwell said. The King didn’t put up a fight as servants flanked his side to help him up. Jake watched helplessly as they carried the man that was once larger than life to bed. He waited until they had him tucked into bed, looking even smaller and frailer than he did earlier. 

Jake walked to his bedside, running his hand over his father’s hair, “Thank you, my King,” He pressed a kiss to his father’s forehead, before leaving his father to rest.

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[topguncortez]

“Count your breaths with me, okay? Ready? One, two, three, four…”  with Hangman? I love everything you write and I cannot wait for the requests you get with some of these lines!!

I might've gotten a tad carried away with this. . .

TW: anxiety, panic attacks, self violence (hitting and hair pulling), therapy in the military world is called 'Behavior Health'.

It was like a cold knife had cut through his chest as he woke up with a start. It was dark, as he looked around the room for anything, something to ground him. To let him know it was a dream, and he had survived the Uranium Mission. That he had come to you, and that everything was alright. His team was whole, he was breathing, and he was going to get yet another face award for his “sacrifice and bravery”. 

On the outside, Jake Seresin looked okay. He still had that swagger to his walk, the cocky smirk on his face, the perfect blonde hair and teeth, and was still sitting at the top of the promotion board for Lieutenant Commander. He still went out for drinks with his coworkers, was still tossing people “overboard” for Penny, and still came home to make love to you every night. 

What people didn’t know was that Jake Seresin hadn’t been up in a plane in almost two months. 

What people also didn’t know was that Jake Seresin woke up every night in a cold sweat from the nightmares that plagued his mind. 

You didn’t even know about them. All that you knew was Jake stirred and moved in his sleep, and would get up to grab a glass of water, and would come back to cuddle you. You didn’t know that Jake had the constant replay in his mind of hearing how terrified his fellow pilot was, or how he imagined that Bradley was you, calling out for help, and Jake was just too late, every single time. 

“You okay?” You asked, sleep heavy in your voice as you rolled over and looked at Jake’s figure. He was running his hands through his hair and taking shaky breaths. 

“Yeah, baby, I’m fine,” Jake said, and looked around the room again. He knew it was a dream, he knew that it was all okay. He took a deep breath, and then shifted back down in bed, laying next to you, wrapping you up in his strong arms. You sighed in content as you snuggled in with him. You assumed he fell back asleep, that it was normal of Jake to fall asleep almost anywhere at any time, except he stayed awake and watched you sleep. 

The next day you were both up early to get ready for work. Jake was now a part of the new permanent Dagger Squadron on base, while you were still working as a Top Gun instructor on the other side of the building. You would occasionally see each other in passing, usually as you were headed to the locker room to change from your khakis into your flight suit. But today you wanted to surprise Jake, he had seemed more stressed than ever since becoming a permanent squadron, and preparing for his promotion boards. 

You walked into the hangar, and spotted him immediately, it was easy to spot his tall, strong stature. Usually he was hanging around Rooster or Phoenix and Bob, except this time, he was being yelled at by Cyclone. You stood by, and watched as Jake’s shoulders dropped as Cyclone finished yelling at him. You could hear Cyclone ask Jake a question, and all your boyfriend did was shrug and then get dismissed. You moved quickly to turn your back, hoping that he wouldn’t see you as he walked out of the hangar. 

“Bradshaw!” You called out to him, causing the aviator to turn towards you, “What was that about?” 

“That?” Bradshaw looked over to where you had pointed towards Warlock and Cyclone talking, “That was about your boyfriend avoiding flying for the last two months.” 

“What? How?” 

“Stupid shit, he has to go to the doctor, or you have to go to the doctor, or he’s sick or you’re sick, or he’s-” 

“That’s not. . .” You shook your head, and felt bile rising in your stomach. Jake had been skipping out on work to go elsewhere. Bradley’s eyes softened as he looked at you. 

“He probably has a reason for it. You know he’s not like that anymore. He loves you.” 

Rooster knew where you mind went at the explanation of Jake’s excuses for not flying. You knew Jake had a reputation, and you truly believed that he had changed. But you could see the same pattern as the girls before you had warned. 

“I gotta go, thanks Bradley,” You said, and walked away from Bradley. Your mind was on autopilot as you walked towards the locker room, knowing that was your best chance at finding Jake and confronting him about him skipping out on flying. 

You thought that his skipping on things was just things with you like date nights. You couldn’t remember the last time Jake had shown up for a date night on time and didn’t give you the excuse of ‘Not tonight baby, I’m too tired.’ You didn’t think that he was doing something behind your back, but now that was the only thing you could think of. 

You didn’t think twice, when you pushed open the locker room door to the males room, you were ready to call out Jake’s name, but his name fell silent on your lips when you saw him standing at his open locker, just staring at the contents inside of it. He was still in his flight suit, and his helmet sat on the bench beside him, but Jake was frozen. His green eyes wet with unshed tears as he looked blankly at the pictures taped to the walls. 

“Jake?” You called out softly. You walked towards him, as if he were a scared animal, and stood against the lockers on the opposite side. Jake sucked in a deep breath, his hands going straight to his hair and pulling harshly on the locks, “Jake, what’s wrong?” 

“I-I don’t know,” He sobbed out. 

Your heart broke as you watched Jake’s hard outer exterior crumble right in front of you. You moved quickly, taking Jake’s hands from his hair to get him to stop ripping out his blonde locks. He looked at you with wide, frantic green eyes as he struggled to catch his breath. This had never happened to him before, he had never felt like this. Sure, he got nervous, would get that little tingle in his spine before a hop or a dog fight. But never in his years of living had Jake Seresin felt like his chest was on fire, and like the walls were caving in around him. 

“I can’t, I can’t-” Jake’s face was turning red, as he pulled his hands away from you and scratched at his throat, which was also turning red. 

“Jake,” You said, and went to grab his hands again. 

“No!” Jake screamed, falling to his knees. It startled you as he cried loudly, and hit himself, repeating something about not being able to stop it. . It took you a second, before you knelt down in front of him, and grabbed his hands so he would stop pulling his hair. 

“Hey Jacob, look at me,” You said, “You need to breathe, okay,” And Jake shook his head disagreeing as he choked on sobs, “You need to try, okay,” Jake looked up at you, tears still in his eyes, his breathing frantic. You placed his hand on your chest, so he could feel the rise and fall of your chest. 

“Feel my breathing?” You asked, and he nodded, “Try and copy me, okay. Pretend like you’re sucking on a straw, slow breaths with me. Count your breaths with me, okay? Ready? In for one, two, three. . . “ You counted to three in your head, “Out for one, two, three. . . “ 

Jake held your hands tightly as he tried his hardest to copy your breathing, slowing down his heart rate. He would hiccup as he was letting his body settle back down to a normal level. You wiped his tears from his cheeks as you kept coaching him on how to breathe properly. 

“That’s it, love, you’re okay,” You assured him, “It’s okay.” 

“I’ve never. . . What just happened?” Jake asked you, his chest still heaving a little. 

“It was a panic attack, Jakey, it’s okay. They happen,” You knew that he was probably beating himself up about appearing “weak” in front of you. He was the Hangman, he doesn’t show weakness or panic. He was cool, calm, and collected. This doesn’t happen to him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked him, and moved to sit down on the floor on your bottom, your back leaning against the lockers. Jake moved, not even carrying that he was laying on the dirty locker room floor, and laid his head in your lap. Your hands went straight to his soft blonde locks, “Rooster told me you haven’t been flying?” 

“Haven’t been sleeping either,” Jake mumbled, “I keep replaying that day, over and over in my mind. I know I’ve had my issues with Bradshaw, but he’s your best friend, and you promised me to make sure that we both came home alive and. . . I heard everything, from the moment Mav was struck to when Rooster went down, to when they thought they weren’t coming home. I was just praying and willing that whole time for my jet to go faster, so I could get to them, so I could save them.” 

“You got to them Jake, you did your job,” You said. 

“But what if I hadn’t? What if I didn’t get there in time? Or worse, the enemy fired back. And then I think. . . what if it was you?” Jake looked up at you, his green eyes wide, “The nightmares used to be about the team and Bradley, then. . . you started showing up. And now, all I can think about is listening to you call out my name for help and I try to get there fast enough, but all I see is you. . . your plane is getting ripped apart.” 

“I didn’t have a clear head, so I knew I shouldn’t be flying. I just didn’t know what to do. I-I’ve never had this happen,” Jake said honestly. 

“You ask for help, Jake. It’s okay to ask for help,” You say to him, “We can go talk to behavioral health tomorrow, and you can talk to someone. Jake, you don’t have to do this on your own, okay. I’m here and so is Rooster, and so is your whole team. You shouldn’t have to deal with this on your own.” 

“Thank you,” Jake said, and grabbed your hand, placing a kiss on the inside of your wrist, “I’m sorry I hid it from you, I just didn’t want you to see me as weak.” 

“You’re not weak Jake, this doesn’t make you weak. . . it makes you human."

--- --- ---

prompts list: xx

gif set: xx

[topguncortez]

HC: how would they be as dads

pairing: J. Seresin x B. Floyd (floydsin), platonic!female warnings: pregnancy, mentions of needles, mentions of vomiting, mentions of failed adoptions, labor, Rooster being confused on how this works. A/N: this could very possibly become a full fledge fic if y'all want it! (like 38% of it has been written already)

Jake was the one to suggest to Bob that they have a baby. And Bob was shocked that he even suggested it. Usually it was Bob talking about their future kids and grandkids.

Once they both agreed, they started the research for possible ways to have a baby of their own.

They looked into adoption, but it was very expensive and there was also the chance that it could all fall through. Bob had known a close friend who had their adoption fall through in month nine and it was heart breaking.

They both decided that surrogacy was going to be the best choice for them. They found a surrogacy clinic that they liked, met with an amazing counselor, geneticist, OB and midwife that was going to help them make their dreams come true.

The next battle was finding an egg donor and a carrier. Bob and Jake had spent hours looking at files that their counselor had given them. Each of them felt like their heads were spinning by the amount of information they were learning. But they couldn't agree on the donor or the carrier.

That was when their friend Y/N had heard from Phoenix about their journey. Y/N was healthy, and young, and loved Bob and Jake to death. When she suggested herself, both men nearly passed out from hearing her say it.

She assured them that this was something she wanted to do for them. She didn't want money or anything but to make them happy. About a week later, Y/N joined Jake and Bob in meeting with their surrogacy team.

Jake and Bob assured her that they would be there for her every step of the way, from helping her with hormone injections, to holding her hand when the doctor implanted the donor egg in her.

When they found out that the implantation had worked, they celebrated. Bob and Jake were beyond excited and Y/N was just happy to be able to give them this.

Jake had already taken on the role of being the helicopter parent, constantly watching over Y/N to be there with whatever she needed. When the morning sickness hit, Jake was by her side holding her hair back.

The three of them wanted to wait until Y/N was further along to tell the Dagger squad. Maverick and Phoenix of course knew, Phoenix being Bob's pilot and Maverick being their commander. The Dagger squad was beyond happy for the two lovers. Rooster looked between the three of them a tad confused.

"So who fucked who?" Rooster asked

"No one fucked anyone. Baby was made in a test tube." Jake said, sipping his beer.

"Yeah but. . . who's spunk was used."

"Can you not describe the miracle of creation with the word 'spunk'"

If you thought that the pilots were attentive when they first found out, the second Y/N's bump popped, they were even more attentive. It didn't bother Y/N, knowing that this was their baby, and she was just housing the lil one for the time being, having them touch her belly. It was Bob who first felt the baby kick, and the man was in tears.

Doctors appointments, birthing classes, shopping adventures, Bob and Jake were there with her. They never missed a thing when it came to their baby and the woman carrying their baby.

Phoenix and Penny threw them all a baby shower, decorating the Hard Deck with balloons and streamers. Both Bob and Jake got sashes that said 'Dad to be' on them. Y/N let the two pilots open the gifts, while she sat and watched.

When her water broke in the middle of the night, Jake was up right away and helping her into the car while Bob got the go-bag. Y/N wanted to do this as natural as possible, and Jake and Bob both agreed to help her stay true to that.

Bob and Jake were doing what they could to help her though the labor. Baby Floydsin must've had their dad's need for speed, because the labor progressed fairly quickly, which was a little terrifying for all three of them.

It only took eight hours from the time her water broke, to the time that the newborn was placed on her chest. Both men cried, as they looked down at their baby.

"It's a girl!" "Holy shit! We're girl dads!"

Post birth hormones were hard. Y/N was happy that Bob and Jake got to become fathers, crying at the sight of them holding their little girl, but she also felt empty inside. For nine months she carried their little girl.

Both of them helped Y/N the best they could after delivery. They made sure she was comfortable and not too sore. They helped her walk to the bathroom, and change into more comfortable clothing. She even got to hold Babygirl Floydsin for a bit.

Slowly members of the dagger squad came to visit them. Each of them couldn't help but gush over how beautiful Babygirl Floydsin was. She had big green eyes which were like Hangman's and blonde hair which was a combination of both of them.

"So what's her name?" Phoenix asked.

"Aurora Jade Seresin-Floyd." Bob said, smiling at his daughter, "AJ for short."

--- --- ---

taglist: @alanadetigy @aerangi @n3ssm0nique @ellabellabus07 @persondoingstuff @blindedbyyourgrace17 @sugarmelonwater @chaoticassidy @spider-d00d @callmebymym @oliviahave-25 @multifandom-fangirl4 @bellamy1998 @the-hottest-lieutenants @nilspettersson @milesrooster @bl6o6dy @lunamoonbby @hrandomthoughts @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @thesithdiaries @shizzybarnaclee @malums-trash-can @dempy @sakari_yura @teti-menchon0604 @bxwitched @lttlemer @sleep-whose-that @callalily2000 @blue-aconite @gspenc @wildxwidow @littlebadariell @sweetheartlizzie07 @xoxabs88xox @seventieswhore @localhockeygirl @dannyavi @zzsloth @lareinedumal @flowerpetvls @the-raegan-whittemore @prongs_girlfriend @criminalmindsandmarvel @sayuri9908 @hopefulinlove @uwiuwi @aynanastuff @bittergomez @whotfatemywaffles

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[topguncortez]

I have to request on anon because tumblr hates me but I swear it’s me

Can I get a dramatic confession of love for Floydsin? Thank you ❤️

jay💞

hehehe oh baby jay…. you ready for this? Did I watch the scene where Priscilla leaves Elvis while writing this?? Yes.

warnings: slight mention of religious trauma, slight mention of homophobia (christian parents)

The door slam loudly, enough to rattle the picture frames that were nailed to the walls. Jake sighed as he opened the door after it was slammed in his face.

The night didn’t start off bad, but it was sure ending on a sour note. What was supposed to be a simple night out with friends, celebrating Rooster’s engagement to his girlfriend, quickly turned badly when Hangman’s ex fling, Morgan, walked into the bar. Bob Floyd was never a jealous man, but he was when it came to Morgan.

Morgan was basically Jake’s girlfriend in everyone’s eyes. They went out, and held hands, and kissed, and slow danced to George Strait, and Hangman even took her home for Christmas last year. Morgan was the girl that everyone saw Jake Thomas Seresin with. She was perfect.

Jake had broke up with Morgan almost half a year ago, he said it was neutral, but Morgan said it was because Jake was head over heels in love with Bob Floyd. Jake said that she was crazy, making shit up but Morgan pointed out what everyone else saw. She saw the way Jake looked at Bob, how his green eyes were always watching the quiet WSO, how he would go to Bob whenever they would fight, how Bob was a constant in Jake's ever changing life.

"What are you doing?" Jake asked, as he walked into their bedroom, seeing Bob angrily throw his clothes into an open suitcase.

"Leaving," Bob muttered.

"Why?" Jake furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "Is this because of what happened at the Hard Deck? Cause I apologized-"

"It's more than just that!" Bob yelled, and it surprised Jake.

Bob never yelled. Even when they would fight over stupid things, Bob was always the level headed one. That's what made him such a good WSO, such a good partner. Bob was a listener, an observer, always watching every move around him. Bob had been watching, observing the way Jake talked and looked at Morgan tonight. Jake was relaxed, calm, and the second Bob walked up to him, placing his hand on the small of Jake's back, the blonde haired pilot stiffened and shoved Bob's hand away.

"I. . ." Bob opened his mouth and shook his head. His mind was swimming as he tried to gather the right words to say, "I love you, Jake."

Jake felt his heart stop when he heard those three little words slip out of Bob's lips. Those three words that Bob had told him over and over. The first time Bob had said those words was after a fight and make up sex. Bob was holding Jake to his chest, running his fingers through his blonde hair. Ever since then, Bob had always said it: before he leaves in the morning, when they go to bed, before every flight.

"I love you and, I don't think you love me."

"Bob-"

"You told me when I said it, that you just couldn't say it yet, and I understood but now. . . Seeing the way you looked at Morgan, the way you acted around her, touched her. Hell, Jake, you've never even held my hand in public."

"I didn't know you wanted-"

"You didn't know that I wanted my boyfriend to show me the slightest be of affection? To act like he actually likes me? I can't keep doing this," Bob said, his blue eyes were filling with tears.

"Doing what?" Jake felt his throat constrict.

"This," Bob, pointed between the two of them, "I can't keep fighting for an ounce of attention, an ounce of affection, an ounce of love, when you don't feel the same." Bob leaned down, flipping his suitcase closed and zipping it.

"Bob, please," Jake grabbed his boyfriend's hand to stop him from picking up the luggage, "I'll do better, I promise. If you want me to hold your hand, I will. If you want me to kiss you before your flights like Bradley does to Y/N, I will. If you want me-"

"Are you ashamed of me?" Bob, whispered.

"No, baby, no that's not."

"Then why haven't I met your parents? Why did you invite Morgan to go to your sister's wedding and not me?"

"I-" Jake, opened and closed his mouth a couple times and sighed, looking down at his shoes.

Truth was, Jake never told his parents that he broke up with Morgan and started dating Bob. Truth was, Jake never even told his parents that he was bisexual. It wasn't that he was scared, everyone who mattered to him knew that he was out. It was that he was worried about the small town Texas gossip, how his very Christian mother and father would react. He loved his parents, but they were stuck in their ways, and so were most of the people in the small town that Jake grew up. Morgan was the safe bet to take to his sister's wedding, but Bob was the one he really wanted to take.

"I can't keep hurting myself like this, Jake. And I love you too much to let you keep hurting yourself," Bob set his suitcase down off the bed, and walked towards Jake, taking his face in both of his hands, "It'll be okay, I promise."

Jake shook his head, and watched as Bob stepped back, and grabbed his suitcase.

"Bob! No, wait!" Jake said, following the WSO out of the bedroom and down the stairs, "No, you can't do this! Please," Jake was full on crying, tears and snot running down his face, "Do you still love me?"

"More than you will ever know," Bob said, and wiped his eyes. Jake slowly sat down on the stairs, looking at his feet as Bob stood in the entry way of the house.

"We'll be back together," Jake said, and he nodded like he was agreeing with himself, "When you're 40 and I'm 50. You'll see."

Bob's chin quivered as he tried to bite back his tears. Jake looked up at him, his green eyes wet with tears. Bob sighed and walked over to him, taking him in his arms. Jake held onto Bob tightly, like he might disappear and sobbed into his stomach. Bob titled his head up to look at the ceiling, trying to stop the tears from falling down his face.

"I have to go," Bob whispered and removed Jake's arms from around his torso, "You have to let me go."

"Will you please stay?"

"If I don't go now, I'll never leave," Bob, grabbed Jake's face one last time in his hands and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Jake held on to Bob's hands as he stood up and pulled out of his grasp.

"Please," Jake cried, reaching out for him.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Bob didn't look back as he grabbed his suitcase and walked out the door, letting it slam close.

"I love you."