#let jake go to therapy

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 1

summary ;; As Jake Sully's oldest daughter, you never see eye to eye with him, always challenging him and pushing his buttons to the limit. What happens when things go too far one day? [PART 2] pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; welcome to the labor of my daddy issues and my very own therapy. this fic is inspired by this one by @layonatanvi and I only wanted to borrow the running away from home to get an ikran idea/prompt! Please excuse my mistakes if you see any.

There’s a widespread belief among sky people that every first-born daughter is a direct copy of her father. 

You listened in on your own father complaining to your mother about this privately one time; according to him, this was why you guys kept banging hammerheads like 'angtsìks. 

Lo’ak was his troublemaker, yes, but you were the rebel pain in his ass, wouldn’t stop questioning one tiny simple step he made, never took anything seriously when he needed you to be on top of things hundred percent of the time... Even your younger brother knew boundaries after he was given the stink eye, but you hadn’t stopped testing him every single goddamn day after the sky people had come back. 

His youngest son and oldest daughter were nearly identical in the speed they got him seeing red, but the similarities ended there. Lo’ak would go behind him to cause trouble, and you would do it right to his face, that fearlessness and defiance made you more dangerous than your brother in your father’s opinion.  

His blood pressure skyrocketing was reserved for Lo’ak and the shenanigans he knew right away the boy was getting into, and you got his explosive anger the moment you would open your mouth to defy him — he couldn’t talk to you, a normal conversation even about your mother’s cooking wasn’t possible without you being passive-aggressive and things snowballing from there. 

(“This is delicious Neytiri, thank you for the food. Sturmbeest?”

“Sturmbeest meat ran out like two weeks ago, father. You ask this everyday and mom answers the same everyday.”

Cue him reprimanding you for talking to him like that, you saying maybe he should greenlight a hunt soon to calm his nerves and promptly being sent to your room. It was Neteyam who’d saved some food for you that night.)

If only you would stop talking back to him and listen for once, he’d said, pacing in the tent with hands on hips like an agitated viperwolf as mother watched on, most likely tired from going through this loop for yet another day. You are the older sister to Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk, why can’t you be a role model for them like Neteyam is? 

(Mom had given him the flattest, “She is at the age for such behavior, Ma’Jake, we’ve talked about this. Let her be.”)

In your defense, he didn’t make sense sometimes, what harm was there in wanting him to explain the thought process behind his decisions?

Apparently you simply were prohibited from doing that to the Olo’eyktan. 

But he was father, he was your family. Why did that have to be disrespect? 

He wasn’t like this before.

A small part of you was aware this was you lashing out because you missed your father — the lighthearted rock in your life, the big shadow protecting you from the heat of the world, who knew how to smile and show his love before all of this. Now he was just the leader of the clan, the weight of the revered Toruk Makto on his shoulders made him a total stranger you didn’t recognize. 

He barely ever called you sweetheart anymore, punishing you for being a brat, most likely. You tried to act like it didn’t hurt. 

But it did. You missed him dearly when he was right in front of you. The rest of the family did, too, they just didn’t say it out loud the way you expressed through what you called standing up to him — in reality, it was a statement about the man he had become, father couldn’t read between the lines to understand.

Mom did. 

She would always explain he did it out of love and worry, and his every move had a reason behind it after the scoldings ended. It was as if she saw right through the prickly exterior of her eldest daughter.

Her love wasn’t held back like his was, not shared like military MREs at decided moments in a day in between attacks, raids, meetings and duties. Hers were long touches, hugs, kisses on your temple, shared time and hunts together, her letting you ride on her ikran with her, the warmth of a meal and soft smiles; whilst his was randomly asking how you were after training and where you’ve been if he caught onto your absence sometimes. He didn’t have time for you or your siblings except for Tuktuk these days. That’s why you were now a mama’s girl.

Sooner or later, the breaking point was finally bound to arrive. 

Yours did after a particularly heated-up fight about your rite of passage. You had had enough of father postponing it when Lo’ak, younger than you, had already gained his own ikran and gone through uniltaron. He was present in the tent while you were fussing and debating with your immovable mountain of a father only answering with single syllable responses, and his light snickers made you all the more aggressive. He got a strong jab from Kiri after a loud snort.  

Kiri, you could get. She was built different from the start — got her mount earlier than anybody else, just walked up to it and asked. Besides, the girl wasn’t a dick about it like Lo’ak was. 

“You aren’t ready yet,” father answered the more you asked him. You thought he'd say a different thing the hundredth time, but he didn't. “Your brother was.”

Lo’ak puffed his chest at that, desperate for a drop of recognition as always, and you could only roll your eyes. “So you think I’m weak? I’m not strong enough?”

Father sighed at the provocation. “That’s not what I’m saying. This and being ready are two different things.”

“How are they different? If I’m on top of my training, that means I’m ready.”

“Physically ready, and mentally ready are not the same.”

“How can I not be mentally ready, I’ve already seen what happens—”

“Enough!” He stood up, towering above you and leaning in slightly. Your younger brother had stopped smiling so quickly you almost let a laugh escape you, and father got agitated when he saw that, thinking you were making fun of him. “Some don’t return from the dream hunt. Do you understand? The strongest sometimes don’t return from that. Your mind needs to be strong.”

“And mine isn’t?”

He gave a slow exhale through his nose, not actually wanting to say it for some reason. “No it isn’t.”

“Why?”

There it is. Your signature phrase. ‘Why?’

And it made your father look above, asking silently for patience from Eywa as it always did. 

“Ma’ite, why don’t we take a break, hm? Come walk with me,” your mom interrupted, taking your hand and standing next to you, your four fingers got enveloped in her larger, warmer grip, strong and insistent. 

“No, I wanna hear it. What do you think makes me not ready?”

You insinuating that your father was entirely going off his own wrong opinion and not knowing any better set him off. You saw the change from ticked off to borderline on edge, but instead of giving into it, he turned his back on you and went back to cleaning his gun, movements choppy and harsh. “That immaturity for a start.”

And you hissed at him—actually hissed at him when none of your siblings would ever dare to talk back to him during a lecture. 

The audible gasps, the holding of breaths, and the slow turn of your father’s head looking like he was going through confusion of reality upon being hit on the head had followed. His eyes narrowed and the lines of his eyebrows got gradually lower on his face, his form seemingly expanding in mass from building anger, spine slowly straightening after fully comprehending what you just did.

“I’m way past you giving me attitude missy,” his baritone and low voice was so steady that you’d rather him yell at you like usual, but he was scarily calm, pushing you to raise your chin righteously at him to show you weren’t bothered by him none, but your ears betrayed you by cowering flat and taut against your skull. “But you’re hissing at your father now? Hm? You think this right here is gonna get you the respect you think you deserve?”

“You don’t listen,” you said, ignoring your heart trashing away from how coldly father was to you.  “Disrespect,” your fingers quoting in the air resulted only in making him angrier. Neteyam to his right, silent and observant the whole argument, was furiously shaking his head that the beads in his braids were clicking loudly. “is the only way you ever pay attention to anything anymore. See? Look how sharp you are right now. Mission accomplished, I guess.” 

“Bro…” Lo’ak, frightened by the wide eyed glare father was giving you, weakly protested, but you knew he would never be able to interfere in the verbal struggle between you and father the way you did to his. 

“You will go to your room,” father said between his teeth, “Do not let me see your face. I swear to Eywa—Neytiri, get her outta here.“

“Do you ever want to see our faces anymore, father?” 

A beat. 

Mom gasped your name in shock, grabbing your arm this time as if she wanted to drag you away. 

All his fury froze away immediately. “What did you just say?” 

You just stared at him. 

“That’s enough,” your mother snapped at you, but you didn’t hold it against her, she was more worried about what would follow if this went on. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

“Okay.” Father slowly shook his head, the storm brewing right under his skin got you preparing for the impact, and all the kids flinched when he threw the unloaded gun back in the crate. “You know so much, don’t you? You’re smart, wise. Know better than Tsahik herself. Fine, you get your way. Go.”

You froze. “What?”

“Yeah, go. Get yourself an ikran.”

“Father—”

“Don’t father me. Go on. I’m not stopping you. Since you’re so ready and you’ll say just about anything to get what you want, who am I to get in your way, huh?” 

But you didn’t want it to be like this. Iknimaya was supposed to be something exciting, prideful — a ceremony. He was saying it like you were being thrown out. Who was going to paint your face? Be proud of you? 

“Why are you just standing there?” He poked your crushed ego further, confident in the fact that you wouldn't set one foot outside of the cave systems at this hour of the day. “Didn’t you want this?”

You didn’t want this. 

“Dad, it’s the middle of the night,” Kiri said, appalled, not quite believing her ears. 

“What does it matter?” He showed you in mock pride, up and down that you couldn’t stop the tears from stinging the corners of your eyes. “Mighty hunter here is ready.”

“Jake,” your mother warned in such a threatening tone that he stopped and shifted on his feet, almost uneasy. 

“What? If she doesn’t want a father’s concern I’m not giving it to her.”

Like you weren’t standing right in front of him at all. 

“Jake!”

That was the final straw. You wrenched your arm free from mom’s iron grip and screamed, “I hate you!” at the top of your lungs at him before storming off the tent.

His ears flattening was the last thing you paid attention to as everything became a blur because of tears swelling. Yeah, right. You wished you could hurt him, unfortunately he was too much of a wall for that. You bet he was scoffing at your declaration right now.

Your body thought faster than your brain did even when the emotions had you drowning under the current, deciding you were going to sneak off to the ikran rookery tonight. You knew he would send Neteyam after you — him barking, “Follow your sister,” at the boy right after you hid yourself between the rocks surrounding the tent was the confirmation of the hypothesis. He was to make sure you didn’t leave High Camp. 

Everyone in your family knew your favorite hiding spot to cool off, Neteyam of course was heading there automatically, and it was the headstart you needed to get a move on. 

Fine. You would complete your iknimaya yourself without anybody’s support, as if these things had any value anymore with how military he’d conditioned the clan to be. You were going to make him eat his words for humiliating you.

The muffled of father drifting off flared up your determination as you soundlessly sneaked off. "Jesus, I've spoiled her too much..."

[bbokicidal]

#5. The moment he knows he wants to marry you + Sungie?? Pretty please? 🥺🥺

Have you ever seen Brooklyn nine nine? There a scene in which Jake realizes he wants to marry Amy and it’s one of the cutest scene I’ve ever watched.

I haven't seen Brooklyn nine nine but I do not doubt you bc you've never lied to me b4. lol. This is going to be short - but hopefully I'll get the super sentimental point across:

Boyfriend Prompt #5 : The Moment He Knew He Wanted To Marry You - Han Jisung

Jisung knew he wanted to marry you the moment he expressed something about his anxiety to you.

He'd come to you - two years and three months into your relationship - after a therapy session he'd had earlier in the afternoon. Work wasn't something he'd worried about that day, taken care of the night before; So he'd slept in, gone to his appointment for two hours, and then come home to the smell of lunch being cooked by his truly.

Jisung was all smiles instantly. You turn to look at him, wearing a pink apron he'd gifted you the Christmas prior. "I'm assuming it was a good session?" You quip, giggling when he comes in closer to rest his hands on your hips. Plush lips press to your cheeks in silly little kisses, his smile undeniable.

"It was great. My therapist said she thinks I can come off of my anxiety medication soon if everything keeps going this well." He beams, "I've been feeling... really good, lately. Everything feels lighter. I'm not overthinking as much and I see the light in every day. I feel like myself again."

Surprised and excited by the wonderful news, your hands come up to cup your boyfriend's cheeks with care. "Oh, sweetheart - that's amazing. I'm so happy for you," Your thumbs brush over his cheeks, the soft skin dimpling under your fingertips. "And I'm so proud of you, too."

Jisung's smile falters just the slightest bit before it returns. "P-... Proud...?"

"Mm." You nod, looking up into his glossy eyes. "Very proud. You've worked so hard to better yourself and get to this point, Jisung, and you've done it all while keeping up with your career and never giving up on your friends or yourself. Though I knew that if anyone could do it in the world, it would be you."

Jisung's heart slammed in his chest, skipping a beat before catching up with itself as he peered into your eyes. He knew in that moment that he just had to be with you forever. You were too good to let go; You took care of him, encouraged him, brought him back to standing when all he wanted to do was curl up in bed and rot away for the rest of his days.

You meant the world to him - And maybe one day, sometime soon, Jisung will see how he is your universe as well.

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: anon request - "hear me out ok .. ok what if reader was getting a tattoo and JAKE is the person who does the tattoos??????"

Warnings: TW needles, getting tattooed, male tattooing female reader, mentions of being in pain and smoking, mainly fluff

Word Count: 5.5K | kind of edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"Hello?"

"Hey y/n, it's Corey from Emblem One."

You smile, "oh hey. What's up, Corey?" You sit up and listen to him, " So, Vienna isn't going to be in today, she's got a bad, and I mean bad case of the flu."

You pout slightly, "Oh. Thats too bad. I hope she feels better soon."

"Yeah, me too. I just got done rescheduling her appointments today.. she was booked and busy so it's.. been a day so far." He laughs slightly, "But I know you trust the rest of us, and I was going down over our other appointments and Jake has an earlier opening if you want it."

"Is he the one you were talking about bringing in a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah, that's him. He does pretty sick work, if I do say so myself, but you know that if I didn't think he could do your tattoos, I wouldn't recommend him." Corey chuckles slightly, "I know it's a sternum tattoo, so if you're no-"

"Put me in." You say quickly, "I need tattoo therapy Corey. I can't wait any longer." You laugh and he clicks his tongue, "You got it."

He pauses for a second, "So instead of coming in at six like you were supposed to with V, he can get you in at two thirty. That sound okay?"

"That's absolutely perfect. Thank you so much for calling me."

"Anytime. See you in a little."

"Yep, bye." You hang up, checking the time before getting up to go shower.

You were getting a chest piece done, a floral setting under your boobs with a vine that goes in between them.

You were actually kind of nervous for this one, well.. it wouldn't be as bad if you hadn't let google and all of its pain scale ratings deter your feelings about it.

You tried not to think about it by going to the shops page, looking to see if they posted an introduction to Jake.

They did, and wow is he ever pretty.

You bite your lip, reading down over the basic info that's listed below his picture.

Emblem One would like to introduce our newest artist, Jake Webber. Jake has been tattooing for a few years and he is absolutely incredible. You can swipe to see a few of the pieces that he's done so far, and if you would like to schedule an appointment with Jake, please call the shop and we'll get you set up.

You raise your eyebrows as you swipe through the attached pictures, "Wow." You shake your head, Corey was right, his work is pretty sick.

You find yourself in the comments, and to no surprise, you're reading stuff that definitely should have stayed in the keyboard.

User1: I have no tattoos, but now I want one that will take hours

User2: I have a few openings that I can definitely schedule you in to fill.

User3: I'd leave a wet spot on the table, he's so hot

"People have no chill." You roll your eyes, laughing slightly as you double tap the picture to like it before getting in the shower.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You push the door to the tattoo shop open, walking in as you give Corey a smile, "Hey."

He stands up, "What's up, y/n?"

You shake your head, closing the door behind you, "Nothing really, about to get a tattoo." You laugh slightly and he chuckles, "You don't say."

He slides the paper for you to sign, "Are you nervous?"

You sign your name and shrug, "I know it's going to hurt, but I'm so excited for it."

He chuckles and nods, "Yeah, I don't really think it's going to tickle." He nods to the back, "I'll go tell Jake you're here."

He walks back, leaving you alone in the small lobby that you're very familiar with. You walk over, looking at the different paintings and drawings that are on the walls.

You've seen them a bunch of times but they always amaze you.

"Y/n."

You turn, seeing Jake standing there and your eyes move up to meet his - wow, he's a lot taller in person.

You smile, "Yes, hi." You walk over to him, "You must be Jake."

He extends his hand out, "That would be me."

You lay your hand in his and it feels like fireworks are going off inside of your stomach.

"So if you're ready.." he nods towards the door, hand still holding yours, "You can follow me this way."

You nod, blinking a few times as you smile, "Yes. I am more than ready." You slip your hand from his and he gives you a little smirk before walking back the hall.

You follow him back, saying hi to the other artists that are there today.

"You're popular here aren't you?" Jake jokes and you laugh, "I've known Corey since, middle school, I think."

"So you're friends with the owner, how sick is that?" Jake sits down on his stool and you nod, "It has its perks."

You sit your bag down on the extra chair in the corner and shrug your jacket off. You turn around letting out a quiet, but loud enough to catch Jake's attention, "shit."

"Everything okay?" Jake looks up from getting everything set up and you nod, "Yeah, well. I mean no. I wanted to bring an extra shirt with me, just so I didn't get ink all over this one, and I forgot it."

"I have an extra one if you want it." Jake offers and you raise your brows, "Do you really?"

He nods, getting up from his stool, "It's in my car, but I can go out and grab it quick."

"Are you sure?" You tilt your head, "I don't want to be a hassle. I know you have other appointments later."

He shakes his head, "Nah, just one. But that isn't until six or something, so we have plenty of time." He grabs his keys and points to the door, "I'll be right back."

"Thank you!" You say as he walks out. You turn, digging your phone from your bag and bringing it up to text your best friend, I got rescheduled so I'm here at the shop now. Corey put me with the new guy they hired and oh my gosh is he a sweetheart, and oh, he is sooo pretty, too. Go to Emblem One on IG and look. It's their new artist. Jake.

Just as you get done, basically fan girling about Jake, he walks back in, "Here you are."

You take the shirt from his hand and smile, "You are a lifesaver, Jake. Thank you."

He bats the air, "Oh shucks." He laughs slightly and walks towards the door, "I'm going to let you get comfortable, I'll be back in a few."

You watch as he leaves, closing the door behind him.

You take off your shirt off, followed by your bra before slipping on his shirt. Your eyes scan over the black walls, moving over the long mirror hung horizontally against it.

You walk over to the mirror, spending the last few minutes alone trying to figure out how you were going to keep yourself covered while he tattoos.

As you're moving the shirt around, there's a knock on the door and you quickly pull it down, "Come in."

The door opens and Jake walks in, "Comfy cozy?"

You laugh slightly, moving to sit back on the table, "As much as I can get."

"Is there anything else I can do for you before we get started?" He sits down, turning to look at you with a smile.

You tilt your head, "It's more or less how I'm going to stay covered up, I don't want anyone uncomfortable. I seen other shops have hospital gowns that they have people put on backwards.."

He smirks slightly, "I was actually thinking about that out there and, I don't have a hospital gown, but what I can do, is cut the shirt up the middle and then tape it down so you're covered."

"I don't want you ruining your shirt, Jake." You shake your head slightly and he shrugs, "That's an old shirt anyway. I won't miss it."

"Are you sure?" You ask and he smiles as he grabs the scissors, "So. Are we doing this?"

You laugh, moving to stand up, "I guess we are."

He rolls over, pinching the hem of the shirt with his fingers before gliding the scissors upward. You lay your hands on your boobs to keep them covered and your breath hitches quietly as the cool air hits your skin.

"Let me grab the tape."

You nod as you watch him wheel over, grabbing the white tape before coming back over. He look up at you, "If you feel uncomfortable at anytime and need or want me to stop, please tell me."

"You're fine, Jake." You smile.

That wasn't a lie, you were, oddly enough, more comfortable with him than you were with any of your actual guy friends.

"I'm just saying. I don't want you writing a bad yelp review." He tries not to laugh but fails which causes you to laugh, "Oh yeah, I'm going to totally go home after this and write the worst review ever."

"Maybe that'll make the girls in the instagram comments stay away." He snickers as he shakes his head while taping down the shirt to your skin.

"You saw them?" You drop your hands and he look up with a nod, "Oh yeah." He rolls his eyes and sighs, "But I seen you liked it, so thanks for that."

You can feel your cheeks heating as he pushes himself back, "Oh, that. Yeah, i was just.. showing love to my favorite tattoo shop, you know."

Way to play it cool, y/n, you mentally slap yourself as you sit down on the table again.

He chuckles, "No I appreciate that. I know being a new artist to some is kind of scary, but Corey said he would hype me up and it obviously worked, since you're sitting on my table."

You laugh, "he did. Don't worry. He said your art was sick and I have to agree with him. You do some good work, Jake."

He smiles as he holds up a fresh, unopened needle, "Steril, clean." He brings it down to open it up, "Thank you. I appreciate getting that confirmed." He chuckles as he puts everything together.

You make small talk while he gets the stencil ready, asking where you're both from, what you do for work, this and that.

"alright, if you would come stand in front of me." He points with his pinky to the floor in front of him. You walk over to him and he rubs soap onto your skin before shaving the spot the stencil is going to be.

You look in the mirror, watching Jake as he works to get you ready.

"I'm actually nervous about this. I heard this spot hurt."

He smirks, "everyone is different, you know pain tolerance and all, but considering you have a few others, I think you'll be fine. If you need to take a break or two, or five.." he laughs slightly, "Just let me know."

You nod, "Sounds good."

He applies a thin layer of the stencil solution to your skin before turning around to pick up the thin layer of paper, "Alright. Nice and straight and stay as still as you can for me."

You let your hands hang by your sides as you try to control your breathing. You glance in the mirror, watching as Jake smooths out the stencil over your sternum and under your boobs.

"I think, this is going to be a sick ass tattoo." Jake leans back, letting the stencil sit for a few seconds before gently peeling it off, "take a look at that, let me know if you need it moved or anything."

He watches as you turn to look at the stencil in the mirror. You nod, "That's good. I like where it's at."

He nods, "Then we'll let that dry for a few minutes then I guess we'll get right into it." He smiles as he turns away to pour the ink into the little cups.

"I know your post said you've been tattooing for a while, but I'm nosey, so how long is a while exactly?" You sit back down, making sure to keep your body as straight as you can.

He laughs slightly, "Well, if you must know." He glances at you with a smirk, "I was an apprentice for about two years then I worked with an artist in the city for a little bit until I got a call from Corey."

"Did Corey find you on Instagram?" You reach up to run your hand through your hair and Jake laughs, "No, actually. My friend Sam got him in touch with me."

You blink, "Wait. Sam.. what's his last name?"

"Golbach."

"Shut up."

"I'm confused." Jake laughs and you shake your head, "No, no. I know Sam."

"Really? No fuckin' way." Jake's mouth drops open, "How do you know Sam?"

"My family knows his family. Ever since we were little." You shake your head, "That's crazy. Maybe it is a small world after all."

"Yeah, yeah." He smiles, "It sure is."

You smile and after a few seconds of silence, he points, "I'm going to check your stencil if that's okay."

"Oh no." You push your chest out, "Go ahead."

He walks up, gently rubbing his finger over the end part and nods, "Ready?"

You take a deep breath, "I guess so." You laugh as you swing your legs up, lying back on the table. Jake sits down, wheeling himself and the cart over.

You hear the buzzing of the tattoo gun and you take a deep breath. Jake applies a thin layer of Vaseline over the stencil, "Alright. If you need a break at all, let me know."

"Alright." You nod, taking in a deep breath before he anchors your skin down to start.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Halfway through the tattoo, you opted for a break.

Jake takes your hand, helping you sit up. You swing your legs over the edge of the table, "Thank you."

He nods, taking off his gloves before shrugging off his jean jacket, revealing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.

"I like your tattoos." You smile as your eyes move over his tatted skin. He smiles, "Thanks. I'm kind of an addict when it comes to them."

"Tattoos are hot, so it's okay." You smirk at him as you get up to look into the mirror. He walks up behind you, "Yeah, they really are." His eyes move from your half finished tattoo to your eyes and his lips form into a smirk before he turns away.

"Do you care if I go out and have a smoke real quick?"

You shake your head, "Nope. You're good." You smile at him, "Take your time."

"So sweet." He smiles and pulls the pack from his jacket pocket, "I don't know if you smoke, but I'd feel like it would be rude of me not to offer you one."

You laugh and shake your head, "I only smoke when I'm drinking, or drunk, I should say."

"Nothing wrong with a drink and smoke." He smiles and puts a cigarette between his lips, "I'll be back."

You nod, bending down to get your phone out so you can snap a picture of your tattoo progress. You laugh when you read over the text from your friend, oh my god. He is absolutely beautiful. You're letting him see your tits? Lucky day for both of you lol

You roll your eyes, taking a picture of your current state, He gave me his shirt and cut it so he could keep me covered. He's honestly very respectful, but we're halfway done. I'll send you a picture when it's all done.

You walk back over and toss your phone in your bag before going back to sit on the table. As you sit and wait for Jake, you can't help but think about how you feel like you've known Jake for years.

You clicked with him, so fast that it was actually kind of scary.

"I brought you a water." Jake says as he rounds the corner into the room. You look up, smiling as you take it, "Thank you so much."

You open it, taking a sip before lifting your legs to rest them on the table, "How was your smoke?"

He nods, "It was alright." He laughs as he grabs new gloves, "Don't worry, I washed my hands when I came in."

"No worries, I trust you." You smile, watching as he pulls the black gloves over his hands.

He had nice hands. Very. Nice hands.

"Are you ready to start again?" Jake snaps you out of your stare and you smile, "Yes. Yes I am." You lay back on the table as look over at Jake, "So is this your first sternum piece?"

He looks up at you, "Mm, not really. I did a touch up on one other, but her boyfriend stared me down the whole time."

"Oh I bet that was awkward." You stare up at the ceiling, "I hate that. I hate people in general."

Jake chuckles before he starts tattooing, "I totally get what you mean."

"Oh, I don't hate you. I hope you didn't ta-"

He cuts you off, "Not at all. Not at all." He smiles as he continues, "Don't take this the wrong way, but you have beautiful skin."

You bite down on your lip, smiling as you feel your cheeks turning red, "Thank you? I think."

He leans back, wiping your skin, "I meant that as a compliment, sorry if it didn't sound like one."

"No, no. It did. I just.. never got that compliment before."

"Really?" He shakes his head, "People are missing out to see you smile, then." He glances up at you, and you can tell that he's just as comfortable with you as you are with him.

You didn't really believe in love at first site stuff, but you did believe in that click, and that click is what you have with him.

"Alright, now this part might hurt a lot more than the bottom piece, so if you need another break, just tell me."

You give him a nod, biting down on your lip as he starts the vine that's between your boobs.

"Oh.. gosh.." you take calming breathes as he was right, it does hurt, "you were right."

You close your eyes, trying to think of something else and Jake helps with that.

"Have you lived here long?"

"Kind of." You say instantly, "I've been here a few years. I actually only live a few streets over in the Green Ridge apartment building."

"Nice, nice." Jake wipes away and gives you a little breather, "Do you have any pets?"

"I have a cat." You laugh slightly, "I would love a dog, but my building doesn't have the grass around it for them to go out, you know."

"Oh man. Of course not. What's your cat's name?"

You laugh slightly, "Um. It's mystic. He's a fluffy grey cat and I got the name from The Vampire Diaries." You wince slightly as you feel the needle piercing your skin, "I'll show you a picture when we're done."

"I would love to see it." He smiles as he moves onto the next part, "I don't have any pets. Mainly because I spend most of my time in the shop, whether it's drawings or tattooing, I just like being here."

"Did you draw that moon phase picture above the mirror?" Your eyes move to the frame and back to him, "Yeah I did." He looks up at you with a smile, "it wasn't easy, took me forever but I finally finished it."

"Do you.. think you can draw me a flower piece that connects to the top of this one?"

He nods, "I'd be honored."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Two hours of talking and tattooing later, Jake is up by your shoulder, leaning over you to finish the top of your tattoo, "We are almost done, sweetheart."

The cute little pet name makes your stomach flip and your cheeks turn pink, "Okay." You say quietly with a smile, "I'm so excited to see it."

"I may be biased, since I'm the one who's doing it, but it's so pretty." He nods, "I like it."

"I'm sure I will too."

"If you don't like it, you can tell me. I promise I'll wait to cry until you leave." He laughs and turns to get more ink.

"I don't think you'll need to cry. From what I already saw, I'm in love with it already." You smile at him and he nods, "I'm glad."

His arm lays over your shoulder, resting under your chin. You close your eyes, feeling the vibrations move through his arm and before you know it.

You're done.

Jake leans back, "Well.." he wipes off your skin, "we're done."

"Already?" You smirk, "That didn't even take long."

He laughs as he helps you sit up, your hand in his and his other on the center of your back, "Take a look."

You glance down before sliding off the table. You walk over to the mirror and your jaw drops, "Oh my god."

"Go easy on me, I'm sensitive." He holds his hands up and laughs.

"No, Jake. This is .. this is beautiful." You turn back to look at it more, "By far my favorite tattoo."

"I'm glad you love it. I love it too." He sprays a paper towel and sits down, "I'm just going to wipe it off some more then take a picture if you don't mind?"

You turn to face him, "I don't mind." You smile as you step towards him, feeling that relief as he wipes over the completed tattoo. (A/n: if you ever had a tattoo, you know exactly what I'm talking about.)

He rests his hand on your hip as his eyes move over the tattoo, wiping it in different spots, "Beautiful."

You look down at him and he smirks, "That tattoo looks pretty good, too." He winks before turning to grab his phone.

Okay, so there's something there. You weren’t imagining it.

You take a deep breath, licking your lips as you turn to look at it in the mirror again, admiring his work.

"Alright." Jake says, "Ready when you are."

You turn back to him, standing up as straight as possible as he snaps a few pictures.

"Got them. I'll probably post it later if you're okay with that?" He looks up at you and you nod, "Whatever you want to do. I'm covered."

"I definitely wouldn't post them if you weren't." He chuckles and points, "Do you want me to take that tape off or did you want to do it at home?"

"You can take it off and I'll just wrap the shirt over and we can slap a new piece on if that'll work?" You motion to pulling the shirt over and he nods, "oh yeah, that will totally work. Do you want me to cover it?"

"Oh yes. Please." You nod and he gives you a thumbs up before turning around to grab some Saniderm. He holds up the piece, "I think that'll be good for the bottom, I'll cut a skinnier piece for the vine part."

You nod, letting him do whatever he needs to do.

He runs his hands over the clear covering and then moves to take the tape off, "If you wanted to grab this side, I'll go ahead and work at getting these pieces off."

"Okay." You hold the side against you as he peels each piece of tape off on the other side before you hold that side of the shirt against you.

You pull the shirt over, holding it there until he grabs a new piece, "Thank you again, for the shirt, for cutting your shirt, and for doing all of this."

"It's not a problem at all, y/n." He smiles as he rubs the piece of tape to stick to the fabric, "Thank you for allowing me to do this."

"Corey said you were good, I just wanted to see how good." You smile and step back. He smiles, "Well I appreciate your curiosity getting the best of you."

"Of course." You nod and go over to grab your jacket, slipping it on before grabbing your bag, "Do you want me to meet you out front then?"

He nods, "Yeah that'll be good."

"Okay." You walk out to the front and Corey looks up, "Well, I see you're alive. How was it?"

"Painful. But.. worth it." You laugh and rest your bag on the counter, "You have a good artist back there."

He tilts his head, "Good as in he does good work, or good as in you like him?" He smirks and you shrug, "Is it okay to say both?"

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, "I guess." His eyes move behind you as Jake walks out. He moves behind you and around to stand next to Corey.

You hand him the money the amount for the tattoo and he squints his eyes, "How much did you and Vienna agree on?"

"Three fifty." You say and Jake laughs, "I'll take two."

You sigh, "then I'm leaving you a big tip."

He chuckles and Corey looks between the two of you, "I have to go.. check on something.. I think." He laughs as he walks away, leaving you and Jake at the desk.

"I'm not leaving until you take it." You rest it down on the counter and Jake sighs, "You're persistent."

"I like to show my appreciation." You smirk and he picks up the cash, "Fine." He smirks and sets it down on the desk, "Are we looking at scheduling another?"

"Is that even a question?" You laugh and Jake sighs, "Yeah, a dumb question." He laughs and looks at his schedule, "When did you want to come back in? For the shoulder connecting piece, right?"

You nod, "Um, we can do like two, three weeks? That should give you enough time to draw it up for me."

"Okay." He bends down, clicking on the computer, "Does the twenty first sound good?"

"That's perfect." You smile and watch as he writes down the date on an appointment card. He hands it to you and right when he's about to say something else, the door opens and you both look over.

A guy walks in, smiling at both of you.

"Hey Matt, I'll be right with you." Jake nods to him and looks back at you. You sigh, "Thanks again, Jake. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime."

And with that, you leave the shop, mentally beating yourself up that you didn't ask him out.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

A few days later

The last few days have been painful and irritating as you can't really sleep comfortably yet.

So it's two am, you're wide awake, and your phone goes off.

Who could that be, you think as you sit up, leaning over to grab it.

Hey, y/n. It's Jake. I'm so sorry that it's so late but I cannot stop thinking about you.

Your mouth drops slightly as you feel an excited rush roll over your body. You smile, biting your lip as your thumbs quickly tap the screen, Hi Jake. I'm glad to see that we both feel the same way.

You clutch your phone, anxiously awaiting his response.

Okay, wow. This is embarrassing. I honestly didn't expect you to be awake, but then again I'm glad you are. I wanted to ask you out at the shop the other day but I was so fucking nervous.

You giggle slightly, happy that you finally got the message you were waiting for, or waiting for the courage to send.

You tap the screen biting down on your lip as you send the message, You're literally taking the words right out of my mouth. I was so nervous, too.

You see the bubbles pop up, disappear, and then pop up again before he finally sends his message, This might be a long shot, but what are you doing right now?

You look at your screen confused but you answer, I can't sleep so I'm just lying in bed wide awake.

He answers, almost instantly, Do you want to take a drive?

You answer instantly, Yes, please.

You send him your address and he responds, I'll be there in twenty, I'll text you when I'm there.

You kick the blankets off, hurrying over to grab a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt from your closet. You brush your hair, not worrying about anything else before you walk out to your living room to wait.

You were kind of nervous, but at the same time, you were so excited to see him.

Twenty minutes later, your phone lights up and it's a text from Jake, I'm parked out front in the Tesla.

You grab your bag, making sure you have your keys before walking out of the door. You walk down, smiling at his car as you walk towards it.

He smiles at you through the windshield, leaning across the consol to open the door for you.

"Thank you." You say as you get in and shut the door. You turn towards him as you buckle, giving him a quiet, "Hey."

"Hey." He smiles and looks away, "god why am I so nervous?" He laughs and looks back at you. You shrug, "I asked myself that, too. A few times on the way out here."

He smile and shakes his head, "I figured we could stop, get some snacks before we drive around?"

You nod, "That's good with me."

"Okay." He nods and starts driving, "So. I have to ask. Are the lines on your tattoo straight?"

"I think so." You look at him, "Why do you ask?"

"Because.." he laughs, "I had to force myself to not shake."

You laugh slightly, "Aw, Why were you shaking?" He looks over at you, "I started shaking the minute you turned around to look at me in the lobby."

"Well you did a good job at covering it up because I couldn't even tell you were." You smirk and he sighs, "Well that's a relief." He looks over at you, "Tattoo healing okay?"

You nod, "Oh yeah. I took the stuff off two days ago I think?" You look over at him, "Do you want to see it?"

"If you're okay with that." He nods, "I'd love to."

He pulls into the parking lot and you unbuckle, bunching up your sweatshirt to reveal the underboob part of the tattoo, "I love it."

He raises his eyebrows, "That looks so good."

You nod, "It's healing perfectly."

He smiles as he points to the building, "Shall we go get some car ride snacks?"

You nod, "Let's do it."

You get out, walking in with him. You stay close to him, mainly because you're just happy to be with him. You grab some snacks and a drink, making your way up and Jake takes you stuff from your arms to pay.

"You don't have to do that." You say and he looks back at you, "You got out of bed at two in the morning for me, it's the least I could do."

You roll your eyes with a smile and wait for him to grab the bag before you walk out. You get back in the car and Jake looks over at you, staring for a few seconds.

"What?" You ask shyly, "Is there something on my face?" You brush your face and Jake laughs, "No." he sighs, "You are just.. amazing."

He laughs nervously and you smile as you look down, "So are you."

He turns towards you , word vomit spilling out, "I definitely would have asked you out the day you were at the shop, but I didn't want to do it with Matt standing and.. and then I thought that I could wait until your next appointment with me, but I couldn't so I got your number from your client profile and I just.. had to see you sooner."

"I'm glad you did. I was beating myself up over not saying anything." You sigh, "Plus. You're worth getting out of bed at two in the morning for."

He smiles and shakes his head, "That.. is sweet. Thank you."

You laugh, "I'm just glad we feel the same."

"You had me when you first looked at me, but you really got me at I hate everyone." He laughs, "I'm just glad that it wasn't all in my head."

You shake your head, "Nope. It's not."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

As usual, let me know how you liked this. Thank you for reading! Love you all!

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

[topguncortez]

Are You With Me? | Ch I

| Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey

series masterlist | next part

synopsis: Jake gets a terrifying call in the middle of the night that has him rushing to his ex-wife's side. Y/N is put in the middle of two men who she cared about. The Seresins get shocking news.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: emergency rooms, medical inaccuracies, mentions of blood, childhood cancer, fighting, divorce, mentions of cheating

“What happened?” Jake asked, out of breath as he ran down the corridor. He had just fallen asleep when he got a frantic call from his ex wife. He could hardly make out the words she was saying to him, but he managed to understand that she was taking their daughter to the ER. It was like a hot knife in Jake’s chest as he sprinted out of bed and broke nearly all traffic laws to get to the hospital. 

Y/N’s was shaking like a leaf in the wind, as she took a step away from the large window where she had been watching doctors and nurses tend to her child, “I-I don’t know,” Her voice was thick with tears, her eyes and nose red. The only thing she wore was a nightgown and a jacket over it, “Ella, sh-she has had this cough and it hasn’t gone away and she started complaining about not being able to breathe and then. . .” Y/N sucked in a deep breath, trying to slow her heart rate down, “There was so much blood.” 

“Shh, shh,” Jake pulled her into his chest, cradling the back of her head. A loud sob racked through her body, and Jake held her tighter, “Let’s go sit down, okay? I’ll get you some tea and a snack.”

Y/N nodded her head, and let Jake guide her through the hospital to the waiting room. Her body felt heavy as she collapsed in the chair. The only image flashing through her mind was of her daughter standing in the doorway of her room with blood all over her shirt. Y/N closed her eyes, rubbing them with the heel of her hand. Ella had been complaining about her chest hurting and this persistent cough that would not go away. Y/N just thought it was her being sick with the common cold. 

“Here,” Jake said, holding a foam cup and a granola bar out to his ex-wife. Y/N gingerly took the items and Jake sat down in the chair next to her. The tension stretched over them as they both sat in silence, Y/N nibbling on the granola bar and Jake fiddling with his fingers. The last time they had sat this close to one another was when they were in couples therapy. Most of the time, if they had to sit near each other, they would put one of the kids in the middle. 

“I’m sorry I called you so early,” Y/N mumbled, breaking the silence. 

Jake looked at her, a small frown on his face, “I’d rather you did than wait until morning. I know you hate doctors.”

“Had to get over that this past year.” 

A year. It had been a whole year since Jake signed those papers, and Y/N had walked out of his life. It had been a year of utter misery for the both of them, but their pride got in the way of being able to admit that. It had been a year of awkward conversations while dropping the kids off at each other’s houses. A year of avoiding each other at Dagger family events. A year of tears and aching hearts when the other mentioned going out on a date. A year of suffering because of one mistake. 

“Well, Ella is my daughter,” Jake said, sitting up in his seat, “And I am going to be here for my daughter, no matter what time it is.” 

They both agreed in the divorce to keep things as civil as they possibly could for the sake of the children. Jake didn’t fight Y/N on custody, only asking that he gets them on the weekends. Y/N still allowed Jake to come over as often as he wanted to, and he was at the house most nights. Jake hated going home to that small on-base house that was nothing compared to the beautiful craftsman they had bought together after Eli was born. Y/N let Jake stay for dinner, and help with bath time, before getting the kids to bed. It was always awkward when he’d leave for the night; both of them wanting to ask the other if they would stay. 

“I know,” Y/N swallowed, “I just. . . I don’t know.” 

The silence stretched back over them. The lobby of the emergency room was surprisingly busy for an early Tuesday morning. Drunkards were waiting to get fluids to sober up. A couple who looked like they were about to have a baby sat in the corner, the man coaxing his wife through breathing exercises. A sad looking elderly man with a deep frown etched on his face. A mother holding her child to her chest, soothing his hiccups. Y/N longed to be able to be back with Ella, but the doctors had ushered her out of the room when Ella quit breathing. 

Y/N was lost in her thoughts when a voice called out to her, “Y/N.” 

“Miles,” She stood up from her chair, “W-what’s going on? Is Ella alright?” 

“You’re my daughter’s doctor?” Jake said, eyeing Miles up and down. 

Y/N shot a glare in Jake’s direction. Now was not the time to get in a pissing match. 

“I am,” Miles said, brushing off Jake’s comment, “I was working a round in the ER when she came in. I’m also lead pediatric surgeon.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jake muttered, “Of course you are.”

“Anyway,” Miles continued, “We ran some tests on Ella, a simple blood test and then an X-Ray,” He paused for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. Y/N’s hand reached out for Jake’s on instinct, squeezing it, “Her blood test came back showing signs of abnormal cell growth, and there’s a small mass on the right lower lobe of her lung.” 

It was as if Miles had slugged Y/N in the chest. She sat down, afraid her knees were going to give out if she were still standing. The words Miles and Jake were sharing might as well have been a world away, as none of it was making sense to her. 

“How did this happen?” Y/N asked, her voice felt foreign to her as she looked up at the men, “How did I miss this?” 

“We don’t really know,” Miles said softly, “Sometimes, the body just creates abnormal cells. Lung cancer in kids looks totally different than lung cancer in adults. It’s not your fault.” 

Y/N nodded her head and looked down at her hands, “So what do we do?” 

“We’re gonna discharge her for today, and send you home with some medicine to help suppress the cough. Then we’re gonna get you set up with an oncology appointment, run some more tests and we’ll go from there.” 

“Can we see her?” Jake asked. 

“Of course,” Miles nodded his head, and told them Ella’s room number. 

Jake sat down next to Y/N, letting out a deep sigh. This was the last thing he thought was going to happen when Y/N called him at 2:30 in the morning. The only person Jake knew to have lung cancer was his grandfather, and it was a bitter end to his life. Hospitals, and oxygen masks, and not being able to do anything but lay in a bed and wait for death to come. It wasn’t what he imagined for his little girl. Not in this lifetime. 

“You never told me what happened between you and Miles?” Jake asked, looking over at Y/N. 

She let out a sigh, stretching her arms out and flexing her fingers, “Just didn’t work out.” 

Truth was, Y/N was so irrevocably in love with Jake, that being with Miles was only going to cause more harm than good. Miles had been the perfect guy; he was respectful, kind, he cared about Y/N’s kids and treated them with respect as well. He also loved her, flaws and all. And that was the issue. Miles loved Y/N more than Y/N could ever love him. It broke her heart to have to break up with him, but she couldn’t let him continue to think that something was going to happen. 

Jake hummed, “I thought you two were going to get-” 

“Can we not talk about my love life right now?” Y/N snapped, looking at her ex, “Now is not the time.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jake apologized, “She’s going to be okay, ya know?” Y/N’s eyes filled with unshed tears, “She’s strong and healthy, just like you.” 

Y/N nodded her head, “I know. It’s just not what I want for her. I hate this!” 

Jake wrapped his arm around Y/N’s shoulder and brought her into him. He hated seeing her cry and in the past year, he had seen her shed a lot of tears. Over the years, Y/N got better at stuffing her emotions down. It was hard raising kids with a husband who flew jets at supersonic speed into dangerous territories. She had to become both mentally and physically strong to withstand the months of Jake being gone and her left to raise the kids. Now, those emotions came crumbling down. 

“Let’s go back and see her, okay?” Jake asked, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s temple. She wordlessly nodded her head and Jake stood up, helping her to her feet. 

They rode the elevator in silence up to the pediatric floor where Ella was. When the doors opened they were met with bright colored green and blue walls with various animals painted on them. Children were just starting to wake up on the floor, as nurses and aids went into their rooms with colorful cups of medicine. Some parents had spent the night, sleeping on a cot next to their child’s bed, other parents were just arriving with cups of coffee and tired looks on their faces. Y/N was surprised at how warm the unit felt. That was the one thing she hated about hospitals. They always felt so cold and lonely. But the pediatric ward was filled with bright smiles, and laughter. 

Jake knocked on the door to Ella’s room, which had a painted unicorn on it, “Knock, knock,” He said, slowly opening the door. 

“Daddy!” Ella exclaimed. Jake rushed over to the bed, and hugged his little girl tightly. He wasn’t sure if it was because of her illness, but she felt smaller in his arms than she had ever felt, “I missed you.” 

“Missed you too Ella Bella,” Jake said softly, and placed a kiss on her temple, “How are you feeling?” He helped her lay back in bed, and covered her with a blanket. Y/N silently walked to the otherside of Ella’s bed as Jake sat down on the small mattress. 

“I’m tired,” Ella yawned, “Nurse Becky gave me strawberry jell-o and Auntie Val saw me when I had my pictures done!” 

“She did?” Y/N asked, trying her best to sound happy. She made a mental note to contact her best friend and tell her how thankful she was for her visit to Ella. If there was one thing about Val Machado, it was that she was going to care of her friends’ kids. Val even said once the Seresin kids were basically her kids and vice versa. 

“Yes! She gave me a unicorn sticker! Like the one on the door!” Ella held up the sticker that was on her hospital gown. 

“That’s beautiful baby,” Jake said, his green eyes full of love as he brushed his hand over her cheek. 

“Daddy,” Ella said softly, “Can I go home now?” 

“Yes Elles,” Jake nodded his head, “We’re gonna go home. You, me, and Mommy.” 

A weird feeling went through Y/N’s chest when Jake said they were all going home. She tried her best to ignore it, knowing that Jake was only saying words to comfort their daughter. When a nurse came in, Y/N and Jake excused themselves to go sign some paperwork and set up the next doctor’s appointment. They sat on opposite sides of a round table, Jake filling out insurance forms while Y/N sighed Ella’s discharge forms. 

“You shouldn’t have told her that you were coming home,” Y/N muttered. 

Jake furrowed his eyebrows, “Why? I am coming home with you guys.” 

“Jake,” Y/N sighed, setting the pen down. 

“No,” Jake answered, “I am not just gonna go back to base and pretend like everything is fine and dandy. Cause it’s not fine and dandy, Y/N. Our child is sick.”

“I know,” Y/N’s voice became thick with tears, “I know this, Jake.” 

“Then don’t push me away,” Jake sounded defeated, “Not now. Not when we need each other the most.” 

Y/N let out a shaky sigh, “I just don’t know if I can forgive you.” 

“You don’t have to,” Jake said, getting up from his chair and going over to kneel in front of his wife. He grabebd her hands in his, running his thumbs over the back of them, “You don’t have to forgive me now or ever. But you need someone to rely on and be there just as much as I need someone to rely on and be there. This isn’t going to be easy. . . but we are the only ones who will understand what we are going through. We need each other right now.” 

Y/N bit her lip and nodded her head, “Okay.” 

“Okay?” Jake asked, his eyes full of hope and longing. 

“Okay,” Y/N said again, sniffling, “Let’s go take our baby home.”

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[senascoop]

☁︎ . , HYPE BOY . . . 엔하이펜 ☁︎

╰ cause you're my, chemical hype boy

WHO IN ENHYPEN IS MOST LIKELY TO COOK FOR YOU ON A BAD DAY; (enhypen × reader)

a/n. i just wanted to thank y’all for the notes on the previous fic, it made my day. <3

#01 . , KIM SUNOO ☁︎ 김수누 !

╰ chicken noodle soup

Sunoo’s nurturing and caring nature makes him the most likely to cook for you on a bad day. He’s always attentive to your needs and would want to comfort you with a homemade meal. His cheerful and supportive attitude would be a great remedy for a rough day.

"Come on, you need to eat something," he coaxed, his voice tender but insistent. When you didn’t move, he reached out, lightly tugging at the blanket. “You know, I didn’t spend all that time making this soup just for it to get cold. Please?”

“Come on, try to eat a little,” he coaxed softly, scooping up some soup with the spoon. If you didn’t have the strength to lift your head, Sunoo wouldn’t hesitate to feed you himself, carefully guiding the spoon to your lips with a gentle smile.

#02 . , P.JS / JAY ☁︎ 박종성 !

╰ hearty beef stew

Jay, being a taurus, enjoys the comforts of home and has a knack for cooking. If you’re having a bad day, he’s likely to whip up a meal to cheer you up, showing his thoughtfulness and practical support.

“Well, guess what?” he said, his voice taking on a cheerful lilt. “I’m making you my special beef stew. Just the way you like it.”

“It’s not trouble if it’s for you. Plus, I know how much you love this.” He ladled the stew into the bowl, the hearty broth steaming up in the cool air. The sight alone was enough to lift your spirits a little.

By the time you finished, Jay was still there, leaning in closer as if trying to soak up every bit of your presence. “Feeling a little better now?” he asked softly, his fingers reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face.

#03 . , S.JY / JAKE ☁︎ 심재윤 !

╰ spicy korean bibimbap

Jake, with his warm and caring side, would also be likely to cook for you. He values acts of service as a way to show his affection and would take the opportunity to comfort you through a homemade meal.

“Hey, bad day?” Jake asked gently, glancing at you over his shoulder as he stirred the sizzling vegetables in the pan.

Jake smiled softly, setting down the spatula. “Well, you’re in luck because I made bibimbap, and you know what that means,” he said, his voice taking on a playful tone. “Spicy food therapy.”

He plated the bibimbap with a flourish, the vibrant colors of the vegetables, the golden yolk of the egg, and the steaming rice creating a picture-perfect dish that was hard to resist.

“There you go,” Jake said, sliding the bowl in front of you. “Eat up, and don’t hold back. Let it all out.”

#04 . , LEE HEESEUNG ☁︎ 이희승 !

╰ spaghetti bolognese

Heeseung’s balanced and thoughtful nature means he’d consider cooking for you, especially if he knows it would help improve your mood. He might not be as proactive as Sunoo or Jay, but he’d definitely step up if he saw it was needed.

He hoisted you up onto the kitchen counter effortlessly, making sure you were comfortable. “You sit there and look pretty while I work my magic.”

As he moved around the kitchen, sautéing onions and browning the meat, he kept glancing back at you, his eyes full of concern.

“Here,” Heeseung said, handing you a tissue when he noticed tears pooling in your eyes again. “No more crying, okay? At least not while I’m making food,” he teased, hoping to coax a smile out of you.

Heeseung, leaning his hip against the counter as he watched you eat. “Good food makes everything a little better, right? Especially when it’s made with love.” He nudged you playfully.

#05 . , YANG JUNGWON ☁︎ 양정원 !

╰ quinoa salad

Jungwon is caring but tends to approach problems with a more analytical mindset. He might suggest ordering in or finding another way to help, but he would be willing to cook if it was the best way to comfort you.

“Okay, I got this,” he mumbled to himself, throwing everything into a pot with determination, even if he was internally debating whether quinoa needed to be rinsed first or not.

Finally, he plopped the salad into a bowl and brought it over, setting it down in front of you with a dramatic flourish. “Ta-da! Fresh quinoa salad, chef’s special,” he announced proudly, even though he was still wondering if it tasted halfway decent.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Yeah, well, I’m not letting you stay sad on my watch. And hey, if this doesn’t cut it, I’m still up for ordering dumplings,” he offered, a playful glint in his eyes.

#06 . , PARK SUNGHOON ☁︎ 박성훈 !

╰ cheesy nachos

Sunghoon’s adventurous spirit might make him less inclined to cook, as he might prefer to take you out or find a different way to cheer you up. He’d still be supportive but might choose other methods of comfort over cooking.

Sunghoon glanced at you with a soft, determined look in his eyes. “Hey, how about we make some cheesy nachos? Our favorite, right? Just like old times.”

Without a word, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your face into his back as he started laying out the tortilla chips on a tray.

Your quiet sobs still echoed through the room, but Sunghoon’s steady presence grounded you. He patted your hands on his stomach reassuringly. “I got you. Just hold on to me.”

As he grated the cheese and sprinkled it generously over the chips, he spoke softly, trying to distract you from your sadness. “Remember that time we tried to make these, and we burned the first batch because we got too busy arguing about whether we should add jalapeños?”

#07 . , NISHIMURA RIKI ☁︎ 리키 !

╰ stir fried noodles

Niki, like Sunghoon, has a spontaneous and adventurous personality. Cooking might not be his first choice for cheering you up; he’d likely prefer to take you out or engage in an activity that might lift your spirits.

He scratched his head, glancing around the kitchen. “But I’m warning you, I’m not exactly a Michelin-star chef or anything. But I can definitely make some stir-fried noodles—easy peasy, lemon squeezy!” He gave a confident nod, though you could tell he was hyping himself up more than anything.

As he got to work, he kept the mood light, humming a tune as he gathered the ingredients. “You know, they say music makes the food taste better, so prepare your taste buds!” He started singing loudly, cracking his voice on purpose and adding dramatic high notes that had you laughing through your tears.

He kept glancing over his shoulder to check if you were still smiling, his own grin never fading as he stirred the noodles. “Smells good, right? I mean, if I can’t cheer you up with my face, at least my cooking will do the job,” he joked, adding a playful wink.

© senascoop | tumblr

[sorchathered]

I can love you through the dark

Pairing- Jake Seresin x OC (Savannah Monroe-Seresin)

Warnings- language, angst, mentions of death, pregnancy, ptsd

Summary- sometimes the past keeps Jake up at night, but she is always there to bring him back from the dark.

A/N- an old WIP I found deep in my Google docs that I thought could use some love. Not beta read.

———————————————————————————-

Jake Seresin had a short fuse. He’d been working on that.

He kept his composure as Rooster threw that cheap shot at him, brushing it off despite the shock all over everyone’s faces by the pool table. “The only place you’ll lead someone is an early grave.” It rang in his ears later that night, Coyote was too damn perceptive as he watched his friend from across the shitty barracks room they were assigned to.

“I’m fine” Jake grunted as he stared at the ceiling, trying to will the thoughts away.

Two years. It’d been two years since his former wingman Torch had lost his life in a field exercise gone wrong. Jake had been cleared of any wrongdoing but he knew; if he’d watched his teammate’s back like he should have Torch would still be alive.

He’d worked his ass off to prove he was the best ever since, and refused to let anyone else in again after that day. Maybe that’s why he was so frustrated with Rooster, he cared too much where Jake refused to care at all. The mission was what mattered now; not making friends. All getting close to someone guaranteed was that you had more to lose, and Jake couldn’t bear to lose anything or anyone else.

“How are things going?” The soft voice filtered through the speaker of his phone as he paced the halls, another night full of nightmares and no sleep.

“It’s going. This is a big one, everyone who’s anyone is here and I worry that they aren’t taking it as serious as they should.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face, he shouldn’t be on the phone with her right now, one of them at least needed to get some rest.

“You need to take care of yourself, and try to be a team player-“

He barked out a laugh at that and he could just see her shaking her head and sighing, she knew he couldn’t afford to get close to someone like that again, no one knew better than she did.

“Jake. I need your head in the game. I can’t do this without you, I- I need you to come home ok?” She was crying, he’d promised he’d do everything he could to never make her cry and here she was getting upset over him again.

“Sweetheart I’m not going anywhere, but you need to rest ok? I’ll be good, I’ll be the very best. Take care of yourself and our little angel. I love you Savvy, fuck- I love you so much.”

They said their goodbyes and Jake slept for the first time since he’d gotten back to Miramar.

Savannah “Savvy” Monroe had been Torch’s high school sweetheart, she’d followed him wherever the navy took him until that fateful day when his plane had gone down. She’d always seemed like an unstoppable force until then, and Jake watched one of his best friend’s crumble and turn into a shell of the woman she’d been. It seemed obvious to everyone but him that they would seek solace in each other, no one blamed them for how they chose to stitch themselves back together, and while they started a new life together Jake couldn’t help but struggle with the guilt.

She’d dragged him to therapy after a big fight, he’d walked out her early in their relationship; determined to prove to her that he didn’t deserve her love and push her to hate him as much as he hated himself. 6 months later he’d finally found himself again, only to find out that Savvy was pregnant. He couldn’t help but wish Torch was here, and his therapist told him it was not only normal but expected. He’d made an honest woman out of her quickly after that, life had proven to be too short and they wanted to start their new life with all the bows tied up nice and neat.

When the call came up to head back to top gun they were nearing the 7th month and he wanted her to stay in Texas with his mom where he knew she’d be safe and taken care of. Now he was here and all he wanted was to hold her, especially after Rooster managed to get under his skin. No one really knew that he and Sav were married, except for Javy and his wife and he wanted to keep it that way. Rooster knew Torch would always be a sore spot, and he’d pressed just the right buttons to bring Hangman to the surface. He filed that rage away for the right moment and when the time came he was ruthless, he knew it was wrong to cut Bradshaw down like that but Rooster had thrown the first punch.

When he got reduced to spare and Rooster got promoted to wingman he was almost relieved, he had too much to lose and it was easy to get caught up in the competition. He wanted to be the best, but he had to think of his family.

Mission accomplished and successful, everyone had survived and made it back to Fightertown safely. As he stepped off the carrier he heard her shouting his name and shook his head in disbelief, he should’ve known better than to think her stubborn ass wouldn’t be here waiting for him to return. She couldn’t run bless her heart but she waddled across the lot as fast as she could with a giggle as he scooped her up in his arms, kissing her deeply and then dropping to his knees to talk to his baby boy.

Rooster watched from a distance, realization striking him as he took the scene in. He’d met Torch’s wife before, years ago when they were in flight school. Heat burned his cheeks as he realized that maybe- just maybe he was just as much of an ass as Jake Seresin, and maybe his judgement had been too harsh. Coyote clapped him on the shoulder as he passed, nodding his head in their direction as he watched Jake pepper kisses to her cheeks, he treated her like she were made of glass as he escorted her across the lot to his truck.

“Now you know a little something about Hangman, he wants you to think he’s a pompous ass; but the man couldn’t be more of a marshmallow. I hope to God we never have to live through what they did, don’t you agree?” Javy Machado didn’t wait for an answer, just left Rooster to ponder that thought.

He thought of his mother, broken over the loss of his father and felt a cold chill, he’d find a way to thank Hangman someday, he had saved his life after all.

———————————————————————————-

Tagging- @roosterforme @attapullman @bobgasm @seitmai @sebsxphia @mynameismckenziemae @sailor-aviator

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for making my partner feel bad about sex?

NSFW Warning for this one, tl;dr at bottom. Sent in May 26th, 2024, goat to locate later

🐐

I (23FtM) have been with my partner “Jake” (25M) for about seven months now. We met at work, were friends for a while, and decided to start dating after we realized we had feelings for each other

Please let me say that Jake is a good boyfriend. He takes me out, we share big purchases, our families get along, and he’s always been super supportive of me in the ways he can be. I would also like to say that I haven’t medically transitioned yet and very much do NOT pass as a man. Despite this, he’s never misgendered me and he’s always been really good about making me feel masculine.

So not long into our relationship, I disclosed to him that I have vaginismus (or whatever it’s called), and it means that I can’t really be on the receiving end of penetrative sex until I do some muscle therapy for my downstairs. Like it hurts when I try to insert anything into myself, always has since I was younger. No tampons, no fingers, especially no penises. Jake said this was fine and that he had confidence in his ability to make me feel good in other ways

Well… it’s been six months and I’ve never actually finished. He bought me a little rose toy to use, but he never grabs it while we’re intimate and when he does try to use it, he fumbles with it and decides not to use it and that me doing oral on him would just be easier. I can understand that for a quickie, we won’t have time to find what buttons to push that’ll make me finish, but most of the time we’re home alone, my roommates are out, and we’ve got all night.

And before anyone says anything: I have brought this up before. First time was what led him to buying the toy. It’s a good toy, I guess, but it does what my fingers would already do and he never takes the time to learn how to use it properly without hurting me. Second time I brought it up, he got really apologetic and asked me to use the toy while he touched himself next to me. I think that was the first time I finished in proximity to his body in our entire relationship. It didn’t feel good. Several friends pushed me to talk to him again, so I did.

I went to his place, Jake lives with his mom still, and I was trying to find a good place to talk to him, but he kept talking about work or his sisters or would turn on an anime that he knew I liked. The day ended with me giving him oral and then me going home. It almost seemed like he was going to reciprocate, but he hesitated and rolled off me. It really hurt my feelings, but I chickened out of telling him since he looked so happy to spend time with me.

Yesterday, he came over and I was finally able to squeeze in a joke about him being a “pillow princess” and his reaction was to get worked up and initiate sex to “prove” he wasn’t. It went the same as every other time - oral - him receiving, fumbling with toy, and then giving up. But he was smiling like he had done something revolutionary in our relationship and I just. Stared at him. He asked me what was wrong and I said hadn’t finished. He had a sad face now and said that there really wasn’t “much I can do while you’re, you know” while gesturing to my genitals.

I felt like crying, but I didn’t want to be the boyfriend who started crying over every little thing, so I just agreed with him and we cuddled until I drove him home. Before meeting Jake, sex was never a large part of any of my relationships. Half because I’m on the asexual spectrum, half because of my condition, so this would be my first serious sexual relationship. I love Jake, I love him so much, he was there for my when my mom passed away last year, and he was there for my college graduation.

On the drive back, he was really quiet so I asked him if he was alright. He said he was really hurt by my pillow Princess comment and asked me if I could take it back, that it made him feel like a bad boyfriend. I apologized for him feeling bad, but I didn’t outright take back what I said. He got out of my car still sad and I returned home feeling like k was gonna throw up.

So now I’m writing this to see if I fucked up. Maybe I should have been more assertive with my needs, maybe I should be more compromising so that everyone feels good. Idk.

TL;DR: I called my boyfriend a pillow Princess because he’s never made me finish during sex while I’m always serving him. He got upset and said I was calling him a bad boyfriend. Aita?

[thebirdandthebee]

Back to Sleep (18+)

A little something to try to get back into writing - let me know what you think! 18+ only! This is not edited, so please excuse any glaring issues.

Title: Back to Sleep Ain't sorry that I woke ya. WC: 1839

“Baby, you almost done?” Jake asked from the kitchen, where he’s just finished loading the dishwasher and wiping down the counters. “Come on, let’s be couch potatoes,” he insists.

It’s tempting, it really is, but you’ve got so much work to get done to stay ahead of schedule. Perched at the dining room table, your hair was tossed up in a ponytail as you focused on the laptop ahead. Yes, you were first in your class in your occupational therapy program, but final exams were coming and you were gunning for the number-one spot.

“You go ahead and I’ll meet you,” you said, tipping your head back for your fiancé to plant a quick kiss on your lips.

“You’ve been studying like a maniac for weeks,” Jake pointed out, one hand gripping the back of your chair and the other braced on the corner of the dining table, “one night isn’t going to break your streak – exam isn’t for a few weeks, still.”

“I know, I promise, give me thirty minutes,” you insisted, looking up at him through your blue light glasses that you knew he loved.

“Thirty minutes,” he repeated, kissing you again.

But thirty minutes came and went, and you were still staring intently at your computer. Admittedly, Jake got swept up in Thursday Night Football, and at halftime, he shook out of it.

“Excuse me,” he called from over the back of the couch, “Where is my fiancé?” He asked. You peeled your eyes off of your study cards, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

“Twenty more minutes!” You called back, tucking your hair behind your ear. But as twenty minutes passed once again, you found Jake dragging your chair back from the table. “Jake, please, I’m on a roll,” you whined. You barely had time to grab up your notecards before Jake lifted you from the chair to bring you over to the sofa.

“You can study from the couch if you must,” he said, only somewhat dramatically.

And that’s how the evening progressed, with you flipping through notes and Jake’s arm firmly around your shoulder as the clock ticked later and later. Soon, you were yawning and focusing more on the back of your eyelids than your flashcards.

“Jake,” you murmured, eyes still shut. “I gotta sleep,” you said, reaching over and patting him on the stomach twice. 

“I’m going to finish the game, be up in a second,” he assured. You dropped another sweet kiss on his lips before making your way upstairs, flashcards in hand. After changing into a pair of Jake’s boxer briefs and a big t-shirt, you crawled into bed, still flipping through your notes.

Jake was surprised to see you still awake when he came up to bed about forty-five minutes later. Leaving the bathroom door open, he quickly showered and brushed his teeth

“Baby, time for bed,” he gently plucked the cards out of your fingers, tossing them onto his nightstand. You groaned quietly but snuggled up to his side instead. You’d been hitting the books hard and it was finally catching up to you. Jake’s warm, vetiver skin lulled you quickly to sleep.

However, much later, during the wee hours of the night, Jake awoke to find your side of the bed empty. His eyes strained in the dark night and if he listened carefully, he could hear the soft clicking of a keyboard.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Jake muttered, wiping at his eyes as he rolled out of bed, lazily pulling his sweatpants up his hips to pull the drawstring tight. He padded down the stairs to see you yet again perched at the dining room table, the chandelier above dimmed to the lowest setting. “What are you doing?” He asked, eyes still adjusting to the light, “it’s almost three in the morning.”

You jumped at the sound of his voice, turning to see your fiancé frowning at you in the soft light.

“I know, but I had a dream that I showed up for exam day and couldn’t remember the steps to the malleability scale and I woke up panicking,” you listed off. “I just thought if I could re-arrange some of these class notes into a more visual aid, it would help me remember,” you gestured to the computer, a giant yawn overtaking your face.

“Babe, it’s time for bed,” Jake said, stepping closer. You protectively splayed your hands across your notebook on the table.

“I’m not done,” you said quietly, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Jake reached over closing your laptop.

“You’re done. Bed, now,” he ordered, which gave you a little shiver, but you complied nonetheless – dragging your feet down the hall. Luckily for you, you could turn the brightness down on your phone and run through the study guide your leading MD sent out.

After tucking into bed yet again, Jake rolled over, invading your space.

“Phone,” he said, holding out his empty palm.

“Jake,” you began to protest. He tipped his chin up in a challenge. “I need it for my alarm,” you weakly argued.

“We have an alarm clock and I’ll make sure you’re up,” he reassured as you reluctantly placed your phone in his hand. Jake rolled over, his back to you as he set your phone on the side table before snuggling down into the mattress.

“M’not even tired,” you lied with a petulant tone. Jake rolled his eyes, not that you could see it. You spent the next minute being dramatic, sighing heavily and flipping all around to find a comfortable position.

“Baby, go to sleep,” Jake grumbled. You glared at his back for a moment before flopping on your back, arms crossed over your chest, staring at the ceiling. You wondered if you could remember what the study guide looked like from memory.

A few beats passed.

“I swear to god just you being awake like this is keeping me up,” Jake said with finality, rolling over to face you, a stern expression on his face.

“You could have kept sleeping if you just left me alone at the table,” you pointed out.

“You have to sleep or that pretty little brain aint’ gonna remember shit,” he countered, nearly taunting. With a huff, you turned to face away from him, lying on your hip with one knee bent up.

“M’not even tired,” you mumbled again. Ten seconds later, you jumped when you felt Jake’s full body pressing into you from behind.

“You’re not even tired, huh?” Jake asked, knowing damn well you were just being a brat.

“No,” you grumbled, trying to keep in a squeal as his stubble scraped against your neck.

“You want me to put you to sleep?” He breathed into your ear, big hand landing on your upper thigh, just below where his boxer briefs had ridden up your leg with all your tossing and turning.

“You can’t,” you replied, still feeling put off by Jake confiscating your flashcards.

“Sure I can,” he said, hips shifting so you could feel his soft erection against you.

“Bet I can get you to sleep in twenty minutes,” he murmured, pressing a kiss behind your ear.

“Not even tired,” you tried not to gasp as his fingertips slipped below the stretchy band of your borrowed shorts.

“How can you be tired when you’re this wet?” He asked, swiping his fingers through your sex, making you huff.

“You know I like those boxers on you,” you muttered, embarrassed, but at least you were honest. “You’re on the clock, Hangman,” you reminded. Jake gladly cradled your clit between his two fingers, rolling them up and down against your skin. The way you almost avoided his touch by pressing your hips down into the mattress made him grin. Sometimes it was almost too easy. You frowned softly into your pillow as you felt Jake’s hand retreat from your body, but squealed as he quickly dragged the waistband of his boxers all the way down to your ankles.

Jake softly huffed as he pressed his blunt tip against your sex, jaw clenching at the resistance as he sunk in further and further. Turning him further beneath you, your front was pressed down into the mattress.

“How’s that, hmm?” He murmured in your ear. “Gonna listen to me when I tell you to go to sleep, smart girl?” You simply whined gently at the feeling as he filled you. “You hear me?” He asked, knowing he was being haughty.

“Yeah,” you whispered, pushing your hips back against him. Jake reached underneath you, palming your breast in his hand as he continued to fuck you gently down into the mattress. “Jake,” you huffed softly.

“I know, pretty girl,” he cooed patronizingly. “Put you right back to sleep tonight,” he snapped his hips, making you jump. His hand traveled down your stomach, the other braced against the bed so he didn’t squish you entirely, to find your clit again, and gently circling it.

You could feel it start to tickle at the soles of your feet – a telltale sign of impending orgasm.

“More,” you murmured, eyes shutting gently both from pleasure and pure exhaustion.

“More?” Jake asked, pulling his hand out from between your body and the mattress, dipping his fingers in his mouth as his hips continued their steady thrusts. Zeroing in on your clit once more, he knew you were getting close – after this long together, he could read you like a book. He didn’t mind, he was close as well. “Going to fill you right up with a sleeping pill,” he didn’t care that he sounded corny, he was putting his money where his mouth was. One more strategic roll of his fingers and you were fluttering around Jake’s cock, toes curled tight at the end of the bed.

“There we go,” Jake grunted, meeting his own orgasm as he pumped into you dutifully. “That’s a good girl,” he exhaled.

You hated it when Jake was right, because now, your eyelids felt like they were being weight down with bags of cement. Whining once more as he withdrew, you jumped when he tapped the head of his spent cock against your clit.

“Wait right here, precious,” he said, pressing a kiss to the round of your hip.

As if you were going anywhere now. Somewhere in the recesses of your mind, you knew an alarm was set for the morning, because now you simply couldn’t be bothered to lift your head from the pillow.

“Warmed it up for you, baby,” Jake murmured as a warning before a wet washcloth swiped through your folds. “I know, I know,” he hushed. Jake wiped himself down before padding across the room to drop the towel in the laundry hamper.

Crawling back onto the mattress, he threw a blanket over the two of you, double checking his alarm once more before tossing an arm over your waist. Your lashes laid across your cheekbones in pure serenity as you entered deep sleep.

“Thought you weren’t tired, huh?”

[honkytonk-hangman]

Line of Sight [4]

JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN X READER

Summary: In which everyone's worst nightmare is realised, and Jake's girlfriend isn't actually the reasonable one at all. She's actually just as bad. There's a reason she's with him, after all. or Penny bollocks you over your petty antics with Jake during a volleyball game, but you're too busy enjoying being the only thing on Jake Seresin's radar (on the ground, anyway).

Warnings: fluff, mentions of jakes clealry very healthy mental health that is in no way compromised or flawed and he defintiely wont be needing therapy. thats mostly a joke, this chapter is all fluff :P

Notes: Its done!!! thanks so much for readin this little series and sticking with it <3 I hope this is a nice little happy ever after for these two <3

MASTERLIST

“It's impolite to stare.” Jake scolds, not even bothering to look away from where he prepares to land his third bullseye in as many minutes. For your part, you don’t bother to stop staring as he at last throws his dart, earning a mix of impressed cheers and annoyed groans. You’re still watching him when he turns to you, ignoring the others as they clap him on the back or try to goad him into another game. Instead he steps in toward you, collecting his beer and taking a swig, now just as focused on you as you are on him.

“Say, you’re pretty good at this darts thing,” you ignore his prior commentary and instead shift your weight to pop your hip out. Jake takes another swig, raising an eyebrow, but shrugging all the same. “Maybe you could teach me a thing or two.” You bat your eyelashes innocently, earning an amused look from the blond.

“Who am I to refuse helping a lady out?”

Before you can even really respond, Jake has stepped around you, one hand trailing down your side and to your hip, the other curling around your elbow as he guides you the few steps over to the dart board. Just as ever when you do this routine, Jake is pressed right up behind you, and just as ever, he pays no real attention to teaching you a thing at all, instead simply using you as a vessel to show off once again. He knows you love it, and you do, your body growing warmer with every bullseye he lands, his hand at your waist gripping tighter when you snuggle further back into him. He squeezes you a little in warning when you wiggle your hips again, but when you glance up to shoot him your best innocent look, you find him grinning down at you with only trace amounts of smugness present.

“Gee, you really are good at this,” you tease, speaking softer now so only he can hear. Playfulness seems to leave his smile entirely then, and he leans in, hand tracing up from your arm to your chin, where he directs you to a much better angle for kissing. It’s only a quick kiss, but you can’t help but laugh a little at the way your little show melts Hangman right down to the Jake at his core. You bounce up to peck the corner of his mouth as he begins to pull back, aware of the crowded bar around you, and neither of you wanting to be that couple (although, you definitely were that couple, Phoenix has reliably informed you), but you weren’t willing to let him go so quick.

Jake chuckles at your display of clear affection, and even all these months later, you know it’s still something he’s getting used to. It saddens you sometimes, how he was so easy to give affection, but in many ways never seemed to expect it back. It makes you think of the year and then some that he practically ignored you, for what he thought was your own good, working off of the assumption that should you talk, you simply wouldn’t like him.

He was dead wrong of course, you had grown to like him without him ever saying a word to you, and once he did, your interactions only served to confirm the feelings you had. Jake’s soft little surprise anytime you plainly and clearly expressed your interest in him or what he believed to be his various character flaws quickly grew to be one of your favourite things about him, and you loved taking the time to complement or fawn over him at any given opportunity, to big him up in a way that you can.

You place one last kiss to the underside of his jaw as he straightens fully again, and you both become aware of the discussion of a pool competition. Still with his hands firm on your hips, he turns his head long enough to invite himself to the game.

“Duh.” Javy replies with a smile and a half-hearted roll of his eyes. Phoenix’s eye roll isn’t nearly as subtle, but her smile is.

“I’ll get you another drink,” you say softly, reluctantly extracting yourself from him. Jake seems to hesitate for a moment, eyes flickering between you and Dagger before you reach out and give his chest a light shove. “Go on, win for me, Hangman.” You have to suppress a giggle when his chest seems to puff out. A wide smirk pulls across his face, and he gives you a little nod. You loved how seriously he took these sorts of things.

“Careful what you wish for, baby, don’t want to get too competitive about a friendly pool game just to make you happy,”

“That is like the most romantic threat anyone’s ever given me!” you exclaim with a mostly genuine dreaminess. You yelp as you turn around, as the moment you have your back to him, Jake delivers a light swat to your backside. You fix him with faux-disapproval and flick your hair hastily in a way you know he finds extremely sexy.

“Careful there, Hangman,” you call in a sing-song manner, all the while he continues to smirk at you in a way that some may consider ‘infuriating’ (Review courtesy of Phoenix) or ‘annoying as fuck, man! Blink!’ (Feedback provided by Coyote). “Penny’ll have you thrown out for that sort of thing…'' you say with sickening amounts of fake innocence, batting your eyelashes at him, as he non-verbally calls your bluff, his smirk widening and his chin lifting as if to say ‘go on, then, do it.’.

You don't bother pretending you can win that sort of battle with him, especially not while you’re still clothed, so you flick your hair even more aggressively this time, and begin making your way toward the bar, swaying your hips dramatically for the sole benefit of the seaglass-green eyes that you know will follow you until you reach your destination.

You manage to find your way to the front of the drinks queues fairly quickly, and push yourself up and into the empty seat at the end of the bar. You’re in kind of a blind spot here, you’re more than familiar with the Hard Deck by now to know if you were anyone else, part of any other group, you’d be seriously worried about you chances of actually ordering, but all things considered, you aren’t anybody else, and you just so happen to be a part of the owner’s husband’s little band of merry men.

Penny spies you almost impossibly, and despite the heavy crowds at every other section of the bar, you see her pick up an already cleaned glass, and pretend to wipe it down as she makes her way to where you are, placing the glassware away and hitting you with a blindingly warm smile.

“If it isn’t one of my favourite love birds… what can I get for you hon?” Just as Penny finishes her eyes flicker to the place behind you before she frowns and looks back at you in slight confusion. “Where’s your shadow?” She follows up. You give her a little laugh and roll your eyes, gesturing the general direction of the pool table.

“He’s about to win some pool for me, although he did debate whether or not to come with me instead for at least seven seconds, so you know, we’re improving on the shadow front.”

Penny laughs loud and joyfully, giving a shake of her head at nothing in particular.

“If it weren’t so sickeningly sweet, I’d say good for him, but to be honest, at least I know he’s not going to get into that much trouble when he’s with you,” she says with the sort of wry knowingness one is only allowed to use when married to Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. You raise an eyebrow and cock your head.

“Why does everyone always assume I’m keeping him out of trouble?” you wonder aimlessly, knowing Penny wasn’t one of those people, and in this rare context, she was also correct about keeping Jake from trouble.

Penny shrugs.

“You and Jake are just about the most perfectly matched duo I’ve seen in a while, but I think you hide your assholery better than he does,” Penny tells you with a laugh. You pout at her.

“You think I have assholery?!” you ask, faux-offended. Penny reaches across the bar to give you a light smack, rolling her eyes at you as she does.

“I saw you at the beach party last weekend, egging that man of yours on to humiliate your poor new friends,”

The memory brings an immediate smile to your face and you let out an involuntary bark of laughter.

“Oh my god, but that guy was such a douche! God, he had no idea what he was in for, challenging us to volleyball! Idiot,” you snicker only a little evilly thinking about how thoroughly you’d wiped the floor with the small group of beach goers who had wound up joining your party, only for you all to realise too late that they were kind of really annoying.

“Do you know what most mature adults do, what the other mature adults did?” Penny questions like you’re a preschooler. You roll your eyes, again. “They ignore school yard bait and try to make peace.” Penny tells you, which you don’t think sounds like the right answer. She looks at you expectantly, as if she’s waiting for you to concede her point. You make a face.

“Penny, those guys sucked, and they were talking such a big game about their volleyball skills. They didn’t even bring a volleyball with them! It was a netball!” you justify. Penny you can tell is only half telling you off, being a not-so-reformed troublemaker herself these days. “Jake and I play v-ball literally every sunday, we didn’t do anything or humiliate anyone on purpose, all we did was accept the invitation of a game.” you don’t believe a word of what you say, but it does sound almost convincing. If Jake were here he’d give you a supportive nod.

Penny lets out a laugh and shakes her head at you.

“Only you and Hangman can take something adorable and sweet and romantic that you do together, and turn it into an opportunity to dunk on some tipsy losers who’d mildly annoyed you,” Penny says, still like she’s scolding you, but the sparkle in her eyes says she would have done the exact same thing had she and Maverick been thirty years old again, and if the mere suggestion of beach volleyball wasn’t cause for a physio visit.

“Besides, I’m glad y'all got to watch us play at last. Since we made the mixed regional team last week we’ve wanted to get you all down to a game sometime,” you say, dodging any accusation of pettiness. Penny nods enthusiastically.

“You know Mav, Amelia and I will be at every one of those games. We’ve got to make sure you guys actually win and don't just tell us you win, to get the free drinks I promised.”

You can't help but smile warmly. It was nice to have a family in San Diego, to be able to rely on people.

“Really, Penny, thank you so much for sponsoring the team, you totally didn’t have to do that, but it means a lot to us, to both of us,” you say gently, reaching out to rest your hand over her. Penny returns your soft smile.

“See, this is the sort of thing Jake would never say, not without a heavy helping of sarcasm, irony or whatever else he thinks makes him less vulnerable.”

You laugh at that and bow your head in agreement.

“Hey, I’m working on it with him. I mean, Pen, he still gets surprised when I just tell him that I like a particular facet of his personality… Anyway, in the meantime, I’m happy to be the emotional go-between.”

Penny gives you a knowing, sympathetic hum.

“That man is everything he says he is and more, but he just can’t seem to bring himself to believe it. I’m glad he has you to show him it’s not just bluster.”

Your eyes momentarily prickle at Penny’s frankness, the words painful to hear from somebody else. Although she’s completely correct, it really does upset you to think of the way Jake must consider himself sometimes, and why you were so determined to adjust the way he clearly thought about certain things, mostly, himself.

“Very little of him is just bluster, and I can’t understand sometimes how he doesn’t actually see that, considering it’s a narrative he made for himself… he’s complicated, but I’m pulling at those threads as they come,” you nibble your lip with a small frown, before dropping your gaze to the bar top. “I just wish he’d see him the way I see him, and the way other people see him…” you pause, and Penny lifts a sardonic, incredulous eyebrow at you. You immediately relent, waving your white flag on that point in the form of holding up your hands. You’d had to come to terms a while ago now with the fact that you’re an exceptionally unreliable source when it comes to how you think others see your boyfriend, Dagger squad notwithstanding. “Okay, maybe not the way other people see him. Pretty sure that's the one thing he’s not mistaken about.”

You both share a soft laugh before Penny straightens, and throws a cursory glance over her shoulder at the seemingly ever growing crowd around the bar, though she still remains clearly unbothered as she turns away from the rush, and shifts her weight to her hip as she looks back at you.

“Anyway, I believe you came for drinks, and I believe I should go get them. The usual?”

You nod, thanking her as she steps away to fetch one bottle that supposedly contained beer, before she fetches your much nicer, far superior sarsaparilla, and waves you off when you attempt to pay.

“My shout, for the two of you making the regional team, and celebrating by destroying some amateurs, because you were bored.” She tells you with a playful wink. You grin widely, cheekily, before shooting her a faux-scolding look.

“Rewarding us for our supposed asshole shenanigans? That’s only gonna reinforce our poor behaviour, Penny! This is exactly why we’ll never learn!” you call out raising the drinks as your excuse for choosing to ignore any self-growth.

You manage to narrowly dodge a ‘rogue’ ice cube that finds itself mysteriously launched at your head, and poke your tongue out at the now distracted bartender, who somehow sees your childishness despite her mixing some brightly coloured cocktail, and spares a moment to throw you the bird, then a blown kiss. You laugh to yourself, as you push away from the bar, feeling quite pleased with yourself, and adjusting your focus to immediately inform your boyfriend of Penny’s definitely very real disapproval of your actions, and not at all conflicting response to the two of you grown adults humiliating some random pricks that in complete honesty, you certainly would have expended far less energy by just ignoring for the rest of the night.

You pause briefly, realising that that is the exact sort of petty assholery that Penny had suggested you hid, and briefly consider that you’re just as bad as Hangman, not Jake. You quickly come to the conclusion that you don’t find that to be a terrible thing, and so shrug to yourself, and continue on, unbothered by such little things like being a peaceful, non confrontational and relaxed person. In your eyes, being chaotic, always down to clown (on others) and quite likely an incredibly petty asshole at times sounded like way more fun, and involved far less unwanted self-introspection, you suspect.

The closer you get to the pool tables, the less you have to work to get through the crowds. All the Navy guys tended to congregate most thickly in this part of the bar, a sea of flight suits and unfamiliar patches greeting you, a fun quirk of which you’d discovered fairly soon after you’d visited Jake on base for the first time a month ago. Although you had no clue who any of these sailors were, or if they knew Dagger in any way, they definitely had become aware of you, and more importantly to this topic, who you were dating.

It's probably the petty-asshole in you again, but you get a sweet kick of satisfaction when you approach anywhere near the Navy guys, and for the first time in any bar ever, you don’t have to make yourself known to anyone for them to get out of your way. It’s almost as though a definitely unknown person may or may not have subtly mentioned (see: threatened to the best of his not-inconsiderable abilities) to any Hard Deck regulars on base, that should you be making yourway over to your regular spot, they are to clear the path and make sure you’re able to walk without going unnoticed by rowdy sailors who can't hear or see you.

You’d be annoyed that someone, surely not anyone you’d know, went to such efforts after just one incident in which you were trying to get past some sailors for much too long, only for one of them to step and into you, making you drop the round of drinks you’d been carrying, but honestly, as a remarkably unintimidating woman who wasn't known for her great assertiveness when not backed up by her six foot actually intimidating Navy Officer boyfriend, you kind of loved that someone, who you really had no clue as to the identity of, had gone out of their way to make sure you’d not have any more issues during what should be an uneventful commute from the bar to the pool table.

You have no idea who could be willing to use their mean side to your benefit, the result of which is the most unbothered walk anyone has ever done in a crowded bar, and a bunch of random sailors you don’t know occasionally giving you polite, stern little nods as you pass, as though their instinct was to salute you, before they remembered that you are not in fact any form of authority to them, but they couldn’t not do something as a sign of respect. You really do wish you could find out who it was that had put the fear of god into these men, if only to give him some really, really good head later.

You finally arrive back at the pool table, the red sea closing back up behind you to form a seemingly dense wall of uniforms, that Payback looks at in clear confusion, then to you, as if you had an explanation you were willing to give. He lifts his brows and you shrug, putting on your best smile.

“Guess they just all thought I was cute or something’!” you say brightly, wishfully. From the direction of the pool table, a familiar voice responds to you.

“Yeah, I guess they did, how polite of them.” Jake says meaningfully, though you don't know what he’s on about, but you suspect is in fact a veiled suggestion-not-threat to the sailors within hearing range.

You wander over to Jake, making sure he's not about to take a shot before you step right into his personal space, and hand him his what apparently passes for beer these days. Jake takes a sip, and thanks you, dropping a brief kiss to your temple. You see him briefly take a look at what you’d ordered, only to receive a scoff.

“And you have the nerve to call my choice in drinks ‘nasty’. Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re drinking’ cough medicine.” This is the one facet of Jake’s personality you can’t stand, and have made clear to him you dislike.

“‘Oh look at me, I’m a grown man from Texas who hates Sarsaparilla, how unique and quirky!’” you mimic his voice in a fairly insulting way, it sounds not a thing like him, but that's part of the jab. Jake narrows his eyes and pokes you in the side.

“You ain’t witty, plenty of people hate that shit,” he tells you, frowning. You ignore him.

“Oooh, I claim to be accepting and appreciative of the few differences i have with my girlfriend, but always happens to forget her favourite drink when he goes out for snacks!’” you mock him further.

Jake huffs and is about to open his mouth, no doubt in his defence, but you cut him off, narrowing your eyes.

“You ain’t slick, Seresin.” you say darkly.

Somewhere around you, wherever your friends are, you don’t know, you hear Rooster whistle lowly.

“Hey guys, first fight!” he says mirthfully, but with no real conviction. You snap your head in his direction.

“This is not our first fight,” you correct him with an eye roll, no longer concerned with your petty argument, both you and Jake forming up into a single entity once more to face the rest of the world. Jake’s arm slings casually around your waist and he leans on his hip, into your side.

“Get a load of this, Rooster thinks that's what a couples fight really sounds like,” Jake adds, as if speaking to you conspiratorial, toxic levels of faux-sympathy for his squad mate.

“If that's what he thinks a fight is, I’d hate to see what he thinks a declaration of love sounds like,” you say, mostly for the benefit of Jake and yours little game you’ve started, and not for Rooster, who was already ignoring you both and rolling his eyes as he moves to take his shot.

You glance up at your boyfriend, who is smiling Cheshire-like, but he shoots you a wink when he returns your gaze. He turns toward you then, using both hands, both of which also hold a beer and a pool stick respectively, to grasp your hips and duck his face into your eye line.

“The corner store we go to for snacks doesn’t have sarsaparilla, but it’s kinda a bust most times anyway, let's find a new snack stop, alright?” Jake says, definitely earning him some extra, extra good head later.

“I didn’t think you really were leaving it out on purpose, it's so hit and miss in Cali what stores stock it.” you tell him, grumbling that you couldn't just go to any store and get you some cough syrup.

Jake hums, and steps around you, your convection on pause briefly as he steps up to take his shot, sinking all the balls he's supposed to and not the ones he isn't (you refuse to learn more about pool than absolutely necessary), before he turns back to you as if he’d never stepped away at all, and sweeps you up again.

“I know a place back home where you can get a year's supply, I’ll see if one of my sisters can figure something out,” Jake says softly, as if a little worried the others might hear him being so gentle and tender. The others, while certainly all pretending not to eavesdrop, only wear various expressions reminiscent of the sort generally worn after being shown a baby animal video compilation.

“And how are either of your sisters supposed to get a year's supply of sarsaparilla up to North Island from Austin?” you question, not wanting to bat away his clear intent to apologise for any wrong you may have thought he’d done. Jake’s eyes swing toward the ceiling like you’ve just said something stupid and he won't actually believe it.

“You forget I’m a pilot.” he says as if it's obvious and also a good point. You frown.

“Pretty sure your jet can barely fit you, let alone a bunch of sarsaparilla.” you say, feeling distinctly like you might be about to walk into a verbal trap he’s laid.

Jake huffs, and still keeping his eyes off of you, he all but stomps his foot at your logic and reasoning.

“Whatever, I’ll drive it back if I have to,” he says, even more quiet and even more worried of the others hearing him. You refrain from ‘aww’ing dramatically, and instead cup his cheek.

“You can just apologise or like, use your words you know. You don't have to communicate with me via intense acts of devotion and service.” you give him a little smile to let him know you were being serious, despite your light tone. Jake’s eyes fall on you at last and he purses his lips.

“It doesn’t feel like enough.”

“But driving around forty hours round trip to Texas and back again all for some cough syrup does?”

“Yes.”

You consider him for a few moments, but relent, and release him of his obligation to make eye contact during vulnerability, patting his cheek lovingly.

“Alright, well, if that's what you’d like to do, Jake,” you say, not fully understanding why words aren’t his thing in this one aspect of his life, when in every other area he excels in anything verbal, damn-near silver-tongued. But you also don't have to understand it, you just had to know it, and then see his displays of love and affection no matter how odd or unconventional or totally over the top and ridiculous, for what they were.

Jake takes a few moments to process the amicable end of that discussion, seemingly expecting a fight or more pushback, but you only nudge him, to draw him from his distraction.

“Hey Hangman, aren’t you supposed to be winning this for me?” you ask playfully. Making the blond frown at you as he looks between the table and your face.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” he asks back, making you pause. You glance back at the table with an earnest frown and after you seemingly take much to long to decipher the secrets of the little round balls, Jake chuckles, stepping up beside you and wrapping you up in one arm, pulling you in as he continues to laugh at you (you retract one extra off of the ‘extra extra good head’ you were planning on giving him later) and kisses your temple, his chuckle nothing sweet and instead completely, totally, and all-consumingly infuriatingly smug (Review by His Girlfriend).

“You have no idea what you’re looking at, do you?” he asks, quieter than you’re expecting, so only you hear. You glare, and answer him with an exasperated sigh.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, darlin’.”

You now glare directly up at him as he watches you with a mix of genuine assholery and softer playfulness that lets you know he’s fully aware of the former trait making a rare  appearance in reaction to you.

Sometimes, you almost wish he’d go back to ignoring you. It had to be better than suffering this. You didn't deserve it, you were an occasionally good person, right?

Jake draws you back from your silent pleading for a time machine, and he leans down toward you, smolderingly self-satisfied with how his little display has gotten under your skin, and his expression combined with his much more intimate proximity suddenly brings to mind that night several months ago now at the club, the night that Jake had paid attention to you for the very first time, and you’d understood clearly what it must feel like to go up against Hangman in a dogfight, what it felt like to be in his direct line of sight. 

Jake plasters on an identical smile to the one he has in your memory, but unlike that night, he gains an evil glint to his eyes, which you find out the reason for mere seconds later, when he gently boops your nose in a manner that tells you he definitely knows has lost him all extra good head privileges for the night.

Apparently, he deems it worth it, and sadly, you can't help but be swept up by him, rolling your eyes in mock frustration, but unable to keep from grinning up at him like a lovesick fool, waiting for him to finish his line.

Jake’s smile turns momentarily sweet, but he quickly covers back up with his bluster and fake mega-douche routine you actually definitely loved.

“Let ol’ Hangman take care of it for ya’.”

[shakespeareanwannabe]

As You Wish, Chapter 19

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, crying, discussions of therapy, sadness, reference to divorce, references to labour and delivery (not explicit but detailed), references to babies, swearing, references to the hospital, self-doubt and self-loathing

A/N: Surprise! I somehow got this chapter done in just a week, and it just so happens to be the last one! If the winds are with me, the epilogue should be out next Friday. But I just want to take a second and thank everyone who is read, commented, reblogged, liked. It means everything to me to get to play in this sandbox, and I really appreciate all the love!

Sharp Memorial Hospital, almost 12 years ago

“One more big push, honey. One more and then you can have a little rest!” The OBGYN urged.

“I can’t! I can’t do this!” Buttercup sobbed, head falling forward as she panted. She felt like she’d been at this for days. She hadn’t slept in over 24 hours. Everything hurt. She missed her bed. She missed the little home she lived in with Jake. She missed not being in pain.

“Shhh, Buttercup. It’s okay.” Jake soothed from his seat on a little stool right by her head.

One gesture from him and the room silenced. He’d been her rock through this whole ordeal, never once leaving her side, never complaining about not getting any sleep or how hard the couch was. He rubbed her feet and her back, fed her ice chips, snuck her a little snack because frankly the hospital’s No Eating While in Labour rule was fucking barbaric. He wasn’t about to make his wife starve herself for over a day on the off chance that she would need surgery. Without letting go of her hand, he stood and propped himself on the bed in front of her. She had opted to push on her hands and knees. Perhaps not the most dignified position, but it was the one she felt most comfortable in. Or at least, the position she had felt the most comfortable in. Honestly, she hadn’t known comfort in over 12 hours.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed quietly, squeezing his hand as another contraction rocked her body. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.” It wasn’t Jake’s Texan drawl that comforted her now. It was Hangman’s no-nonsense voice that cut through the sleep deprivation and pain. “I know you’re scared, darlin’. I know you’re hurting. I know you want this to be over. You’ve been a fucking rockstar all fucking day and you deserve a break. Now, I’m going to come sit in front of you on the bed, okay?” Jake peeked around at the doctor to make sure it was alright before moving the pillows and sitting against the headboard. “You’re going to put your hands on my shoulders and you’re gonna squeeze so damn tight that you’re going to receive a citation for damaging military property. But you’re going to give us one more big push. Our babies need you right now. Okay?”

Buttercup couldn’t help but nod. Not when she was looking into the beautiful green eyes of the man she loved. She could do this. She could be brave and face the pain, the fear. For him. For their two beautiful babies.

Her next contraction came and went in a flurry of activity. She couldn’t remember the pain or the fear. But she could remember the nurse handing her a squirming baby girl before handing Jake the scissors and letting him cut the cord.

“Baby number 2 is on the way, but you should have a few minutes to cuddle with baby number one before you need to get back to work, mama,” Dr. Friedman smiled at the family of 3 while swapping out her gloves.

“She’s beautiful, darlin’.” Jake pressed a kiss to Buttercup’s sweat-slick forehead. “You still like her name?”

Buttercup nodded, panting heavily as she leaned against him, cradling their daughter between their bodies. “Abigail Juliet Seresin. Want to hold her?”

Jake took the tiny girl in his arms and felt something inside of himself melt. The most perfect little being in the world, and she was half him, half Buttercup. “Hey Abby,” he murmured, hearing a monitor start to beep more rapidly. “I’m your daddy. The total badass that was just holding you is your mama. And your sibling is on their way, I think, so I’m going to pass you off to this lovely nurse to hold you so I can help your mama.”

With one more big push, another flurry of activity, and a sigh of relief, their second daughter entered the world. Jake scooped Buttercup into his arms to help her settle into a more comfortable position before the nurse handed her the second squalling baby. Abby was wrapped in a light pink blanket and deposited in her father’s arms.

“Charlotte…” Buttercup murmured, limbs shaking with exhaustion. “Charlotte Delta Seresin.”

Jake couldn’t help the tear that came to his eye. “They’re perfect. You’re perfect.”

Neither were aware of what the nurses were doing around them, and they didn’t really care. Both were enamoured with their daughters. Their family.

Staring at his three girls, Jake made a vow. A vow that would supersede any he made to the military. He would do whatever it takes to be there for his family. To protect them. He would never, ever stop fighting for them.

London, England, Now

Everything had been packed into her duffle bag. Childcare had been arranged. There had even been a convenient black cab sitting outside of her house. And then…he was there.

“Jake?”

The man in question stood at her front gate, a bouquet of pink roses in one hand and a gym bag in the other. The black cab idling behind him trundled down the street as they stared at each other.

He looked as tired as she felt, and she felt the heavy press of guilt weigh down on her shoulders. She had done that to him. She had left him behind, left Charlie behind, and he had to deal with the consequences of her actions.

One hand lingering on her front gate, he offered a tentative smile. “Hey Buttercup.”

“What…” She swallowed back the emotions suddenly clogging her throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, it took about ten seconds for me to realize that I didn’t want you to go. I would’ve been here earlier, but organizing childcare, last-minute flights, someone to take over ranch business…” He sighed and shrugged. “It took a bit to get everything settled. But I’m here now because I realized something.” He reached over and opened the latch to her gate, swinging it open to let himself in. In two strides, he was standing at the foot of her stairs.

“What did you realize?” she murmured.

He handed her the flowers, his hand lingering to give hers a tight squeeze. “I realized that I listened to you give all sorts of reasons for why you couldn’t stay, and I gave you reasons why you could. But I never gave you the reasons why I want you to stay.”

She pulled the flowers up to her nose to give herself a moment to compose herself. Never in a million years did she think that he would follow her. Not when she was the one who left. But there he was, standing on her front stoop in London, giving her flowers and wanting to talk to her.

She sniffled. “Let’s go inside.”

Jake nodded gratefully and stepped up to stand at her back as she fumbled with unlocking the door again. “Is Abby home? I’d love to see her but this conversation…I don’t think it can wait.”

She turned her head back to look at him, so handsome in his red flannel and blue jeans. “She’s at a friend’s house. Bob dropped her off before going to work. Where’s Charlie?” Her heart ached, remembering how Charlie had refused to even meet her gaze as they had packed into the airport taxi.

“With Nat and Javy.”

She nodded and let him into the house, dropping her duffle onto the floor and guiding him into the living room. “I’m just going to get some water for these,” she murmured. “Do you want something to drink?”

Jake shook his head, staring around the room as she disappeared into the kitchen. Being in her space felt natural. Almost like he had been there before. The dark teal walls set off the walnut furniture, and he recognized a few of the paintings hanging from the walls, prints that she had mentioned over a decade ago that she loved. Photos of her family lined the mantlepiece. Most were of Buttercup and Abby, but there were some photos of Bob and Natasha as well. The whole space felt homey, lived in, in a way that he hadn’t expected. He could see why she had wanted to come back. This was a home she had built for herself. He’d be hesitant to give it up too, if he had been in her shoes.

A light clearing of the throat turned his attention back to Buttercup, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “Do you want to sit?” She gestured to the soft suede couch, and he took a seat on one end, green eyes following her as she settled into an armchair next to him, a small side table in between them. The silence stretched between them as Buttercup picked her fingernails, staring down at her hands. Jake could only watch her, all the words he wanted to say building up in his chest.

“I’m sorry—”

“I wanted to tell you—”

Their words mixed together in a jumble until they stopped and grinned at each other, embarrassment painting their features.

“Do…do you want to go first?” Jake offered, noting the almost desperate look in her eyes.

She nodded; eyes fixed on her fingernails. “I’m sorry. I never…I mean, it wasn’t supposed to. Jake, what I’m trying to say is…” She nearly growled in frustration. “I was going to type up everything I wanted to say to you on the flight and memorize it so that this wouldn’t happen.”

“Flight? You were coming to see me?” He could feel the hope blossoming in his chest, and he fought to push it down, smother it so as to not scare her off.

“I…” she blushed. “Yeah. I wanted to talk to you. How I left…it wasn’t fair. To you or Charlie or Abby. I wanted to clear the air…maybe, try to fix things. If you wanted to.”

A small grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, I want to.”

Her responding smile was a weak, nervous thing, and he reached out his hand to grasp hers. “I’m sorry, too.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he squeezed her hand, silently urging her to let him speak. “I probably shouldn’t have taken you to bed that night. Not because I didn’t want to. God, I wanted to. I’d basically been white knuckling it since I dove into that hotel pool after you, and when you told me to kiss you, I kinda lost my grip.”

“You lost your grip?” Her voice was incredulous, and he grinned in response.

“You’ve always been able to knock me off my game, Buttercup. It’s one of the things I love most about you.” He smiled at her, squeezing her hand as she blushed. “But I should’ve known what that would do to you, to us. Especially since we didn’t get a chance to talk about it and what it meant.”

She nodded, tilting her head to look at him. “What…what did it mean?”

He huffed a sigh, leaning his head back against the suede sofa. “Jesus, Buttercup…it meant everything to me. Holding you again, feeling you again…” He sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. “It felt like things were finally back to normal. I woke up with you in my arms again after almost 12 years. I got to kiss your cheek that morning as I snuck out of bed to make our family breakfast. I got to hang out with both my daughters. We were planning a full day of fun family activities, and it felt so fucking domestic that the Jake from 15 years ago probably would’ve punched me in the dick for being so soft.” He grinned at the soft rasp of her chuckle. “And yeah, I was pretty pissed off when you told me you were leaving. I saw my daughter hurting and I was hurting, and I lashed out at you.”

“I deserved it.”

He was already shaking his head before she could get the words out. “Not like that, you didn’t. I basically told you the same shit I did 12 years ago when you told me you wanted to take the job out here. I didn’t listen to you. And looking at this place, who can blame you for wanting to come back?” He looked around again, wishing the walls could talk. Wishing they would tell him stories of the 12 years he missed out on because he was such a stubborn prick. “You built a life for yourself and Abby out here. You should be proud.”

“And you should hate me.” Her words, gasped out through a sob, brought his attention back to her like a shot. “I abandoned you again. I couldn’t keep my shit together long enough to have a real, adult conversation with you because I was so fucking scared that, if I did, I would stay. We would stay and things would be so fucking good between us, because they were also so fucking good between us, and then the other shoe would drop and I would end up hurt again, except this time Abby would choose you because I’m the monster who keeps fucking up, so I would end up all alone, and I’ve worked so hard to be okay with being alone but I don’t think I would be able to recover from being with you again.” Hot tears streaked down her cheeks, her breaths coming out in heavy pants as she tried to catch her breath. “And I was so damn scared of being vulnerable with you, but it was so damn easy to fall back in step beside you. The dinner, and the football game, and the party, and all these little moments where I found myself slipping, found myself having to remind myself that we weren’t married anymore, and it was scary.” She mopped at her eyes with the sleeves of her oversized sweater and sniffled. “I like who I am better when I’m with you. The scary things aren’t so scary when you’re by my side.” Her admission was so quiet that he had to lean in to hear her. “But needing you like that? I knew it would only hurt me more if I let myself need you again and lost you anyway.”

“You’re not going to lose me again,” he murmured, thumb tracing small circles on the back of her hand.

“You don’t know that.”

“What I know…” He tugged her hand so that she turned to face him. “What I know is that I’m going to fight for you, fight to keep you in my life again. Because I like who I am better when I’m with you too. I’m less of a condescending prick when you’re around. I don’t take stupid, unnecessary risks when I know that I’ve got you to go home to. I don’t…” He cleared his throat, ready to admit the one thing he had never spoken aloud to anyone, not even his therapist. “I don’t feel the pull to get back in the air when I know that the best thing in my life is on the ground. I just never realized that until I lost you.” With another tug at her hand, he pulled her onto the couch beside him. “I told you that I gave you all sorts of reasons why you could stay, but I never told you why I wanted you to stay.” He raised a hand to brush the tears from her watery eyes, broad palm cupping her cheek. “I want you to stay because of how warm and happy the house feels when you’re in it. I want you to stay because of how much lighter Charlie is with you in her life. I want you to stay because you make Rooster less of a miserable dick.” Her snort of laughter made him paused, heart warming at the sound. “I want you to stay because my life hasn’t been the same since you walked out of our home that night, divorce papers signed on the kitchen table with your wedding ring on top.” His thumb skimmed across her cheekbone, and he let those words that were burning in his chest escape. “I want you to stay because I love you and I want to give us another chance.”

Buttercup crumpled into his chest, Jake’s arms going around her to hold her close as the words sank in. He felt safe and warm. He felt like home.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Jake only moved to go get Buttercup a glass of water from her kitchen. That had been another peek into her life here. The walls were a light burgundy, cabinets a light grey with silver fixtures and appliances. When he returned, he pressed the glass into her hand before allowing her to curl up into him again, her tears starting to clear.

“How don’t you hate me? I hate me.” Her quiet, ragged voice broke their silence.

“I think maybe that’s the problem,” he murmured, pressing a quiet kiss to her hair. “I never hated you. I tried to, but the more I tried, the less I hated you. It was like…by trying to rationalize hating you, I ended up playing Devil’s advocate for why you left.” He chuckled quietly. “I kept coming to your defence against myself. I guess I just don’t have it in me to hate you. But you…” His firm but gentle hand traced her cheek before tipping her chin up to meet his gaze. “You’ve always been harder on yourself than anyone around you. And I get that. I practically invented that. Part of what made me fall in love with you is that you have the same drive to be perfect, to be the best at everything. That’s what made me the best at Top Gun. That’s what’s made you an award-winning author and a fucking incredible mother. When you got sick, I think maybe you kept blaming yourself for it not being perfect, which only made it worse?”

Buttercup nodded against his fingers on her chin and sighed. “My therapist and I talked about it a lot. I’ve been working on letting go of trying to be perfect, but it’s hard to reconcile with. I did a lot of damage.”

“So did I,” Jake murmured back. “I was basically a team pariah before you came along and turned me into a half decent human being. And maybe if I had admitted to someone—to Mav or Penny or my grandfather—that we needed help, that we were struggling, then maybe I could’ve gotten us both help before divorce became the only option. But living in Texas, having my grandfather around, it really helped. When I was struggling, he told me that I had to work on forgiving myself for letting us fall apart. It took a long time, longer than it should have.” He chuckled morosely and ran a hand over his hair. “Mav always used to tell us that we couldn’t afford to think in the cockpit. That we had to act on instinct and not get caught up in our mistakes. Letting you go, getting divorced? Those are the mistakes that I could never move past. Maybe because I knew I needed to fix them? I don’t know. But I was finally able to forgive myself for the part that I played. And this isn’t going to work if you don’t do the same.”

Fresh tears spilled over Buttercup’s cheeks. “But what if we do try again and it doesn’t work?”

“What if it does work?” He tugged her close and brushed away her tears. “What if it does work and it ends up being incredible?” He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, reveling in the way she melted against him at the simple touch. “Don’t you think it’s worth it to try?”

Lips trembling, Buttercup met Jake’s green gaze. “You’re worth it,” she whispered through her tears. “You always have been. I just don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You won’t.” Jake’s soft, Texan drawl brooked no argument. “We’ve worked through our crap. We know what to look out for. We know how to communicate better than we did before. And we’ve got a whole team behind us who want us to succeed.” He smiled down at her, so soft and full of love that the last of Buttercup’s defences melted away. “I love you, Buttercup. I always have and I always will. I know we’ve got a ton of logistical bullshit to figure out, like where to live and—”

“Actually—” Buttercup cut him off with a small, sheepish grin. “I might have talked to my company before you got here.”

Jake went impossibly still. “You did?”

She shrugged shyly. “Bob made a good point. I’m the one with the awards, I’m the one with my name on the covers of the books. I should be the one in charge. So…I pointed that out to them. And after a few ultimatums and making one of the lawyers cry, we were able to come to an agreement.” The hope in Jake’s eyes made her chest ache. She reached out and trailed a soft hand over his cheek. “I might have to keep some strange hours, and I need to come back for in-person meetings once a quarter, but otherwise…they’re alright with me working from home. In Texas.”

Jake’s responding whoop of excitement had her covering her ears for all of a second before he scooped her off the couch and spun her around.

“Whoa, whoa, easy cowboy!” Buttercup laughed, hands on his broad chest to steady herself.

“You’re sure this is okay with you?” Jake breathed; face so close to hers that his breath fanned over her.

“I…I want to try again.” Buttercup teared up as she said the words, but she knew them to be true. The truest words she had ever spoken. “I love you, Jake Seresin. I don’t think I ever stopped. And I want to move to Texas to try this again with you.”

Jake’s smile was more brilliant than the Sun. “As you wish, Buttercup.”

Buttercup launched herself into his arms, the arms that had held her and kept her safe for so long, as she heard a key jangle in the door.

“Mum?”

“Abby, darling, I told you. Your mother has gone on a little trip. She will be back soon.” Genevieve’s lilting voice held no admonishment, only reminder.

“We’re in here,” Buttercup called through a laugh, head buried in Jake’s chest.

“Mum?” She could hear Abby coming closer. “Did you miss your flight? Where were you go—DAD!” Not willing to let go of his Buttercup, Jake extended an arm and wrapped Abby up into their embrace. “What are you doing here? Where’s Charlie? What’s going on? Mum, why are you crying?”

Buttercup gently soothed her through her tears, a bright smile on her face. “Shh, babe. It’s alright. I was going to go back to Texas to talk things through with your father, but he beat me here. And…” She smiled brightly at Jake. “I think we came to a solution that will make everyone happy.”

“Oh, that is wonderful news!” Genevieve cooed from her place in the doorway.

Jake turned to smile at her and stilled. “Buttercup?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is a French supermodel standing in your living room?”

The three ladies laughed at Jake’s astonished face. “You must be Jake Seresin. I have heard so much about you from Robert.” Genevieve extended one perfectly manicured hand out and he shook it dazedly.

“Robert?”

“Did I hear my name?” Bob’s voice called from the front door. A few steps brought him to the living room, where he wrapped an arm around Genevieve’s shoulders. “Hi sweetheart.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek and Jake’s mouth dropped even further.

“Bonjour, mon amour.”

Jake tilted his head to whisper in Buttercup’s ear. “Your brother is dating a French supermodel?”

Before she could do more than giggle, Buttercup heard her front door open again.

“You know, y’all should really change the locks after someone moves out.” Natasha’s voice boomed through the house. “I know it’s only been like two days but c’mon.”

Buttercup’s head whipped towards Jake. “I thought you said Charlie was with Nat and Javy?”

He grinned, so cocky and self-assured. “I did. I just never said where Charlie, Nat and Javy were.” He pressed a small kiss to her cheek. “You didn’t think that I would fly across an ocean to visit my wife and leave our daughter home alone, did you?”

Buttercup flushed because, well, that’s exactly what she had been planning to do.

“We’re in here!” Abby shouted, practically vibrating with excitement.

Charlie bounded around the corner and, without hesitation, launched herself at her mother. “I’m sorry!” she cried. “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye!”

Gasping for breath, Buttercup wrapped her arms around her daughter and squeezed. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m the one who is so sorry. I shouldn’t have left. I was scared.”

Charlie nuzzled into her mother’s chest. “Scared?”

“Yeah, honey.” Buttercup reached out an arm and pulled Abby close too. “But I’m not anymore. Your dad and I talked, and he helped me realize that I can’t let my fears rule my life. It’s not fair to anyone.”

“And what does that mean?” Bob asked, one hand resting on Genevieve’s back. He reached over to hug Natasha close as she came further into the house, Javy in tow.

“Yeah, I’d like to know that myself.” Nat cocked an eyebrow at her.

“It means…” She smiled over at Jake, who couldn’t help himself. He pressed a slow, sweet kiss to her lips, feeling everything in his life click into place, like the puzzle that was his life was finally complete. “It means that we’re going home. We have a lot of work to do, and it might not be perfect, but it’s worth it. We are worth it.”

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Set Me Alight: Part 9 - The Woods

📜Hi..... It's been a hot minute. My mental health was not in a good space back in April when I last posted. I signed off because of it. And now I'm considering coming back because after countless therapy sessions and working on what I could, now seemed like the perfect time. Also, my therapist told me writing is my saving grace, so she and a few countless friends are the reason I'm back... for now... maybe on a trial basis to see how things go.

That's it :)

Now, Let's see how those two are doing, shall we?

❗️+18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character (s), Short OFC, Angst, Description of injuries, banter, snark, getting lost in the woods.

#5.2k

Part 8 | Masterlist | Part 10

The first thing you can register is pain.

Not the dirt or the leaves or the twigs under your hands. Not the light mist of spitting rain leaving dewdrops on your face. It's the deep ache of your muscles and the crunch of your spine. You can't move, your body remaining locked up and in limbo. You couldn't dare move a single inch, even if you thought about it, attempting to shift yourself amongst the dirt.

But you can feel - that must count for something, right?

You focus on trying to open your eyes, using every bit of mental power you currently possess. The dark lull is too strong, enticing you to stay—stay and fall back asleep once more, stay and give into slumber, stay so its unforgiving grip on you can threaten to pull you under once more.

Something else, or someone else, pulls you out of its grip instead. A pair of hands suddenly gripping your shoulders. They gently but insistently pushed and pulled, attempting to shake you awake.

"Midge," a voice cuts through, sounding near and infinitely far enough away in the same breath. "Come on, Midge. Wake up."

Ah. I'm hearing voices. I must be in hell. 

Those same hands shift, one sliding down to your waist and the other to the side of your neck. While you couldn't feel the ground beneath you before, you could feel those hands, their touch, chasing the darkness away and bringing feeling back into your body. Unfortunately, each jostle or movement sends ripples of pain throughout your limbs, muscles, and bones. 

Stop! It hurts! Stop! Stop! Stop!

A thumb glides across your cheek, fingers curling into the back of your neck. "Midge, you need to open those pretty eyes for me," the voice urges again. "Let me see them, please!"

You were trying. Really, you were trying to listen to the voice. You wanted to open your eyes. Everything was simply too much effort. Your head hurt, your back, your injured wrist pulsing and throbbing. Even your lungs hurt, and awareness of each breath suddenly made every one that followed an effort. 

The voice grew impatient, and you clearly weren’t trying hard enough as they shook you a little more forcibly. 

"You're not dying out here, Midge! Not before I can... Come on! Yell at me. Insult me, tell me how much you hate me, just let me know you are okay!"

The person curved their hand into a supportive grip, the other now gripping at the back of your legs as they lifted you from the ground. You moaned at the ache it caused, pain shooting down the length of your spine.

"Midge?"

You're not sure where the strength comes from or how you managed to open your eyes. It's a quick flutter; all you can see is a blurry, white, cloudy sky. There’s also a shape of something leaning over you. You blink and then blink again, forcing yourself to twist in a pair of arms like you had awoken early in the morning.

The third time you blink, things are much clearer now, and you realize, half laying here in this forest bed of dirt, it's Jake leaning over you, holding you. There’s mud smeared across his cheeks, his beard covered in bits and pieces of leaves. His golden blonde hair seemed to have gotten the worst of it; clumps of dirt, leaves, maybe even a stick or two caught up in the strands, you couldn’t tell. 

You also couldn’t help but notice how panicked he looked —his eyes were usually so confident and teasingly wide with concern. Or how the lines of his face were furrowed, crow's feet creasing hard. 

This is so at odds with how the two of you normally act with each other, how he normally looks at you, that it disorients you further. As you're trying to figure out why you are on the ground and why he is holding you, you catch the words tumbling out of his mouth from above.

"Hey, Midge, can you hear me?" he asks, his voice cracking slightly. A hand pushes away your hair, almost covering your eyes. “Come on, talk to me. Please."

Midge. Annoying Nat. Nat. Natasha. The fight. The Bear, Jake... Falling...

Everything comes rushing forward, surging forth in a tidal wave of memories that has you gasping for breath. It's an adrenaline rush of panic and hurt that has you twisting out of his arms and landing on your stomach, face first in the ground. You shout out harshly, "Get your hands off me, you asshole! Trying to cop up a feel while I'm knocked flat out?" 

Jake only leaned forward, his hands hovering over you uncertainly, unsure whether to retreat or try to help you further. "Are you okay?" 

You laugh mockingly into the dirt. "We just fell down a fucking cliff. Are you seriously asking me that right now?"

Failing miserably to push yourself up, you accidentally attempt to place weight on your injured wrist, practically forgetting it was injured in the first place. A sharp stab shoots up your arm, causing you to cry out and fall on your shoulder. Everything is blending together at this point: your head, back, and entire body, and you know there's not much you can do about it. 

Jake's hands immediately grab onto you, finding a place on your back and elbow, gently guiding you to sit in front of him. You're in too much pain to protest, and that fact alone makes you want to give in to the overwhelming urge to hurl whatever is in your stomach out into the dirt.

Or on Jake. Yes, I should have thought that first. 

Once he gets you sitting on your butt, you shake your shoulders, trying to get him to let go. Jake listens to you for once, lifting his hands off you like your touch has suddenly burned him. 

You wish he had been. You also wish he didn't let go. His touch, even if it was his touch, had brought you some comfort as you battled the tears streaming down your face. You’d never admit it, though. 

His eyes search your body, seeking out possible injuries and bruises, until they snag on how you are clutching your wrist tightly to your chest. 

"Let me see," he says, shuffling forward quickly on his knees amongst the dirt and leaves. He reaches out gently, fingers just skimming the fabric of your jacket when you tilt away with a frown. 

"No, I'm fine," you lie. 

Jake pulls back, his hand still floating mid-air. "You honestly can't tell me you're fine after that? Miss, 'we just fell down a fucking cliff. Why are you asking me that?'"

No .

 "Yes! I'm fine!"

Jake’s eyes call you out on your bullshit lie. 

"And I'm the Queen of England. Midge, just let me see it."

You don’t fight him this time as Jake reaches for your wrist. You aren’t in that much of a position to fight him on this either. His grasp is firm but gentle, and he carefully extends your arm out for him to see. The clasps had popped themselves free with the fall, the bandage covered in dirt, small flecks of leaves, pieces of wood, and God knows what else. The end was hanging loosely off the base of your wrist, and Jake frowned when he touched it. 

"Did Mickey even look at your wrist?" he snapped as he started to unwrap it from your wrist. 

You eyed him carefully. "Yes. Why? It's more than I can say for you."

Yeah, Maeve, he probably just saved your life, and you're still spewing hateful shit.

Jake ignored you, unwinding the fabric from your limb. "Damn, asshole didn't wrap it tight enough.” 

“Why would you care?” you snap.

“Cause I asked him to.” 

You stiffened at his words, drawing in a sharp breath. Bunching the length of fabric on his lap once he got it off, Jake never took his eyes off your wrist as he prodded the largest bruise. "I'm the reason you hurt it in the first place. Why wouldn’t I care?"

Lies . Oh, you wanted to scream that he was lying. There was no way, no fucking way he had asked Mickey to look. There’s no reason he’d care. None that you can think of

Skeptical of his actions, you croaked out softly, "You're not exactly a medical professional, Jake." 

"Neither is Mickey. Clearly." He scoffed back, turning your hand so it was face up. 

You clenched your jaw, fighting the urge to snap back at him. But when he pressed on a tender spot, you hissed out, "Mickey asked Cora. She wrapped it."

Jake shook his head. “So he couldn’t even do it himself.” 

“He asked the professional.” 

“I should have done it myself.” 

“Do you think I would have let you?” 

"If you weren't so reckless all the time, then maybe you would have!" he snapped, his grip tightening on the bandage for a moment before he forced himself to relax. "Running off into the woods like that? What the hell were you thinking!" 

You bit your lip, slamming your eyes shut before everything snapped and broke free. 

"Reckless?! I was trying to get away from you!" you shrieked. "You were the one who followed me into that bush!" 

"Because I was trying to fucking apologize, Midge! And thank god I did! Who knows what would have happened to you! You’re always so fucking stubborn!"

“Do you think I wanted you to follow me? After everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours? You ruined Nat’s proposal, you fucking pranked me with those two idiots, and.. And…” 

You couldn’t speak, too caught up in every overwhelming thought and emotion. Jake took advantage of your moment of weakness to continue. 

“You think I can just leave you alone?! You don’t think I’ve tried?! I’m trying to apologize, damn it! For everything! For all of it! I have no idea what I did for you to be this mean to me, but can’t you see even that?” 

“I don’t want your apology!” you shouted, pain and anger mixing in your voice. “I just wanted you to leave me alone! I just wanted you to stop hurting me!” 

Jake took a deep breath, his jaw tightening as he remained uncommonly silent. 

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. "You can't just fix everything with an apology, Jake. Some things... some things can't be undone."

The forest was eerily silent, the only sound the distant rustle of leaves in the wind. The air was thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. Jake's jaw was clenched as he carefully examined your wrist, his fingers gently probing the bruised skin. His eyes remained fixed on his task. You stared off into the trees, your breathing shallow and uneven, trying to mask the pain and the anger simmering just below the surface.

“Leave the bandage off,” he finally says after a moment, his voice quiet. “It’s making your bruise worse.” 

Jake avoided your eyes as he stood, your bandage in hand. He was quick as he worked, wrapping the fabric back into a roll. Still on the ground, you watched his fingers, realizing he was doing it correctly. A tiny voice somewhere deep within your hardened heart wondered where he had learned to do that in the first place. 

He held it out to you, head turned away. You only stared up at him, his hand holding the bandage, half stuck to the ground. When you didn’t take it right away, Jake faced you with an expectant gaze. 

You did eventually, weakly reaching for your backpack as it lay forgotten in a pile of leaves. 

Last you could recall, it had been on your back as the two of you had fallen. Jake must have taken it off you while trying to wake you. 

The state of your belongings within or your fragile paint brushes and paints were the furthest things from your mind as you worked the zipper of the front pocket first before blindly holding out your hand to Jake. He placed the bandage silently into your palm. You threw it in, not bothering to see if there had been space for it. Threading the straps through your arms, you settled your bag against your back, hoping you could walk like this. 

You struggled to your feet, wincing as you braced yourself with your uninjured hand against the ground. Your other wrist throbbed, though, along with practically everything else in your body, reminding you exactly how you and Jake ended up in this situation. Or how either one of you would manage to get back to the rest of the group. 

That was until you turned to look up. 

“Oh no.” 

“Oh yes.” 

“No… No... No!” 

“I don’t think shouting no will change the fact, Midge.” 

“As if all this couldn’t get fucking worse.” 

“We just had a run-in with a bear. You see this as worse?” 

You clenched your fists, the reality sinking in with each passing breath. “I would have rather seen my life end as a pile of bear shit.” 

“Really, Midge?” he remarked with disbelief and frustration. “Is that how you see it?”

You glared at him, the anger still simmering. “Yes, Jake. Because being stuck here with you is worse than anything I could have imagined.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I get it. You’re angry. But do you honestly think dwelling on it isn’t going to help us right now?”

You let out a humourless laugh. “Oh, so now you’re the voice of reason? The guy who wanted us to climb up a cliff carrying all our stuff to save what? Fifteen Minutes? You want to climb up that ?”

And what did Jake do but grit his teeth? He offered you nothing else but a reddened face and steely eyes, clearly lit up in frustration. 

Silence fell, and tension was thick between you. The sounds of the forest seemed amplified in the absence of your bickering. You couldn't deny the fear creeping in, the realization that you were truly isolated.

Isolated. With him.

“I may not have all the answers, but sitting here fighting isn’t going to solve anything. We need each other to get out of this,” Jake tried again. 

You scoffed, shaking your head. “The last thing I need is more of your stupid plans.”

“Well, it’s either that or we both end up dead out here. Do you really want to risk that?”

You paused. It was a serious ask. Your anger didn’t completely fade, but the urgency of the situation was undeniable. “No, I don’t want to die out here.”

Jake nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Then we need to work together, whether we like it or not. At least until we find someone or something or a way to get out of here.”

You clenched your jaw, feeling a mixture of frustration and very reluctant acceptance. 

“Fine.”

“Fine,” Jake echoed, his voice resolute.

He gestured towards an opening in the bush, you adjusting the straps of your bag, taking a shaky step forward. Jake followed closely behind, and as the two of you trekked off into basically the unknown, you couldn’t help but think… The second I see poison Ivy, I’m shoving it down his shirt. 

—

"I hate you."

"No, you don't, sweetheart."

"I fucking hate you, Seresin. I'm not your sweetheart."

"Don't lie to me, Midge. I know you love me. I did save your life and all that." 

"Kiss my fucking ass, jackass."

"Are you offering?"

You let go of the tree branch you'd been holding out of the way, letting it swing back and thwack Jake in the face. "Oops," you called out sarcastically, not bothering to look back.

Jake stumbled back, swatting at the branch like a pesky insect. "Ow, what the -"

"Watch out for the low-hanging branches," you mocked, the corners of your mouth twitching upwards. Jake rubbed his face with his eyes closed, grinning despite the slight sting. "That branch hit harder than your insults."

"Practice makes perfect, right?"

You're not sure how long the two of you had been walking, though given how low the sun was, it was safe to assume it had been hours. The two of you followed the bottom of the cliff until you could no longer do so, hoping there might have been a slope or at least something along that cliffside either of you could climb up.

But the terrain became treacherous with each step, and the underbrush became impossible to navigate. More rocks littered your path, forcing you and Jake to veer off into a less dense part of the forest.

The further you went in, the less you knew where you were or how to return to that cliff. The forest swallowed any trace, everything the same yet different.

It was hard when you only had the compass and not your map. With a map, you could potentially figure out where you both were and where you should be heading. The compass only told you the direction you were facing, not where you should go. 

You aren’t sure if you’re even happy the tension back at that cliff had dissipated within an hour, the two of you returning to your normal back-and-forth banter. Jake hadn’t once brought up that question he had asked before the two of you ran into your little friend, and there were no signs he was about to either. 

It was simply the same old, same old, Seresin and Midge. 

Stepping over a fallen tree trunk, you looked up from the ground only to freeze. There, stretching vertically across your path, was a chain-linked fence. It merged and disappeared into the thicket, maybe even a few trees growing through the interlocking pieces of metal. Tackled to one section was a weather-beaten sign, the words and icon on it fading, though you could still make out the message. 

Keep out - Authorized Personnel Only.

You’re not sure if these types of fences were supposed to be out here, dead centre in the middle of nowhere, but the sight of it is less than comforting. 

Jake hadn’t realized you’d stopped, slamming himself right into your back. You tripped forward in a daze but caught yourself before hitting the fence. You spun on your heel, ready to give him a piece of your mind. 

“Look where the hell you’re going, Seresin!” 

“Hey, what’s the big - “Jake cut himself off when he saw what was behind you for the first time. “Oh… a fence.” 

You rolled your eyes, turning back to investigate its sudden presence. You pointed to the keep-out sign. “Look.” 

Jake squinted, then offered a shrug. “It’s probably just the park boundary line.” 

You frowned, peering through the mesh at the expanse of untouched forest that lay beyond. “Or something else. Maybe it’s a dumping ground. You know, where they keep the bodies.” 

Jake rolled his eyes. “Because every remote part of a national park is a crime scene or conspiracy,” he said, his tone dripping in sarcasm. 

You whipped around, pushing on his shoulder. Jake didn’t even move an inch. You felt stupid for even trying. 

"Well, excuse me for being suspicious of a big ominous-looking fence in the middle of a woods that has a keep out sign!" you snapped, your mind now racing with the possibilities, none reassuring.

Jake bit his lip. "You know, this feels a bit like Jurassic Park..."

You closed your eyes. "Jake... No...Don't say it..."

"When they find the raptor pen," he grinned. "And it all goes to hell a few hours later."

"Can you not?" You shudder. "I'm going to be fucking terrified now, thinking something is following us."

Jake rolled his eyes, returning the way you both came. "It's just us, Midge. Come on, scared a serial killer is hiding out in these woods?" he teased.

You murmured something under your breath, following him before turning off at the next apparent break in the forest, Jake having stopped to wait for you to catch up.

You called out into the trees in a sing-song manner, "Psycho Killer, que'est ce que c'est?"

Jake cocked an eyebrow at the back of your head as he followed you. "Ah, the artist listens to music."

"So does the douche," you shot over your shoulder.

"It's Talking Heads. Who hasn't heard them."

You laughed softly to yourself. "Not the Taylor Swift loving groupie's back at the camp."

You internally cringed as soon as the words came out of your mouth. The ill-fated Halloween party flashes in your mind, that girl and him in the bathroom—that damning orange dress. You're glad he can't see your face right now. 

Somewhere behind you, Jake let out a fake gasp. "Now, what do you have against T.Swift?"

You roll your eyes again, pushing away a branch and holding it back until Jake is close enough. "Nothing, personally. I just don't like her music. Or her fandom."

You let the branch go, the leaves rustling as it swung backwards. Jake dodged it just in time when it whipped towards his face. "Midge..." 

"I told you to keep an eye out." 

A smirk tugged at his lips. "You're enjoying this way too much." 

You shrugged nonchalantly, stepping over a fallen log. "Maybe. It's not every day I get to torture someone with my taste in music."

“But it’s Taylor Swift, Midge.” 

You made a disgruntled noise. "Why does every fan of hers like to shit on someone who doesn't like her music? It's not the only thing out there. So, I don't like her music. I'm not a fucking martyr."

You're not sure if you are surprised whether or not the remark didn't incite a reaction from him. From what you've seen online, her fans loved to attack those who didn't share their opinion. Sure, there were good ones. The ones you thought, like with everything, who existed in a minority. The ones who appreciated what she did or even does for music, not the ones who latched on to who she, and in their words, was destroying next. 

Jake seemed like the last person to be a Taylor Swift fan, but you weren't one to judge someone who liked works of art. Jake also loved to rile you up for no apparent reason. He would do this just to piss you off further. 

Realizing the rustling of leaves and branches behind you had ceased, you stopped, twisting to look over your shoulder. Jake stood motionless between two trees, staring at you with metaphorical gears grinding over his head. The sight was unnerving. It left you wondering what he was thinking or perhaps what he was waiting for you to do. 

Or what remark he was currently concocting. 

But no banter was coming from his lips: no eagerness or cocky smirk, horrible statement or condensing glare. The urge to fill this extended silence was building the longer it lasted. It seemed like not saying anything would make it that much worse. You're still trying to figure out why you even wanted to. 

"It's not that I don't want to. I did. Once upon a time," you offer hesitantly. "Things just change, I guess." 

"Didn't like it when she switched to pop?" he asked, offering no hint of emotion, nor did he try to move or lift his eyes. The moment that settled over the two of you was calm, no thick heat or fire in search of something of either of yours to burn. 

It’s perhaps why the following words flew out of your mouth so easily. "More like every mean girl started listening to her music, and suddenly she was the villain icon for everyone to excuse their fucking behaviour.” 

You visibly winced when you realized what you had said. Not because that haunting memory was always at the forefront of your mind when it came to Jake, but because you revealed more of yourself than you wanted him to know.  

You turned to face the path, taking a few steps forward, hoping Jake would take the hint and drop it. But when you didn't hear him try to follow you, you twisted back again to see him still standing in the same spot, his eyes now on you and lighting up with a thousand revelations all at once. 

Then came the shift. The subtle softening of his face gave way to one of regret. 

You hated it.

"You were bullied growing up?" the words come out of his mouth softly. 

You averted your eyes, staring at the ground. 

"Who hasn't?" you laughed ashamedly, shrugging your shoulders. "I mean, you probably haven't... Where do you think I got all this snark?" 

Lies, Maeve. He's the reason you got all this snark. You simply ran away back then. 

"So you don't listen to her music because you were bullied?"

You met his eye. 

Nobody had really asked you about this before. You hadn't offered to tell anyone about it either. Nat loved her, practically worshipped the ground she walked on, and it was apparent now more than ever that Nat would have never understood where you were coming from if you had. 

You're not sure why Jake is that person now, why it's suddenly spewing all out of you. He was the person you spent most of your life hating during and after school. Yet, because of that fact, you knew deep down you had nothing to lose by telling him. 

You didn't lift your eyes when you shook your head. "I didn't. At least, I don't really. Sometimes, now she's making new albums... creating songs that don't bear the same weight in memories. But it's hard to shake the association."

Suddenly, shame wracks your whole body, and you turn away, taking a few steps forward. You want to run. Run like you always have from him. 

This time, you know you can't. 

If you ran, it would doom you both. As much as you wanted to live, the one thing you refused to be responsible for was Jake's death. After all, if either of you got out of this place alive, you'd have no actual reason to be around him anymore. 

Waiting for Jake to follow, you watched a worm twisting its way through the mud. You focused in on its shape, letting your eyes glaze over a blur. Even as Jake finally moved and stopped at your side, waiting for you to step forward, you hadn't taken your eyes off the tiny, helpless creature. No eyes, no mouth that would produce a single sound and from appearance alone, it relied on touch to navigate the world.

A single, lone worm was wriggling in the earth, and you felt you had more in common with it than any single person back at that waterfall. 

You can feel Jake's eyes on you, waiting for you to continue explaining. You know you have to. 

"Sometimes I meet people who think she's giving them permission, sanctioning them, to be mean to people. When really, they're just passing off owning their own mistakes. Or want to get out of circumstances of their own creation."

You sniff, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "Cause if she says it's okay, then why wouldn't it be?"

Jake's voice was low as he offered, "She can't help how people use her lyrics."

You closed your eyes, a tear streaming down your cheek. "Hasn't anyone ruined anything for you, Seresin? That's not the point."

Jake didn't say anything, merely staring at the side of your face. 

"Whether she knows it or intents it to be or not, she is an iconic Mean Girls Artist." You took a deep breath, opening your eyes and letting them glaze over. "And every time I try to make it better, I'm always brought back to the remarks whispered in the corners of high school hallways. Never being able to defend myself because first impressions are hard to beat. And word of mouth from a person who has their hooks in every person in your grade because you're the weird silent art kid with niche interests and they are the beloved popular girl matters more than any remark I could ever muster the courage to voice and prove them wrong."

Giving into the urge to hug yourself tight, you dropped your chin to your chest, a part of you wondering what Jake would do with this information. A part of you wanted to stop, but the fact that he was letting you speak, you weren't going to. With everything that had happened, you just wanted someone to listen. You just wanted to be heard.

Nat didn’t afford you that chance. But Jake was. He was here. He was listening. Perhaps for the first time since you don't remember when.

How fucking far have I fallen that Jake is suddenly now that person?

You sniffed again, wiping your nose. "I mean, it's not the fake ownership over them saying they might be the problem because of that one fucking song, but me, being the problem for saying anything, for being myself, walking the halls... existing." 

Holding yourself tight, you failed to notice the sad recognition in Jake's eyes. Or how his shoulders dropped or how he took his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“I only shouted ‘bear’ because I was trying to get Jessica and Veronica to leave me alone. Jessica’s… obvious... With her … attempts,” he admitted. “Well, unobvious to Rueben. I hate it.” 

You sniffed, wiping your eyes with the back of your arm. “You weren’t trying to scare me?” 

“No, Maeve, I wasn’t,” he replied earnestly. “It was stupid, and I should have just told them off, but I panicked. And a part of me wanted them to shit their pants… because of how they’ve been treating you. They seemed like the type who would…” 

You sighed, shaking your head, croaking out, “You really are an idiot, Jake.” 

He let out a small, humourless laugh. “Yeah, well... That’s nothing new.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh softly back. 

 "Thank you for telling me,” he finally said after a few moments of silence. 

 You reeled back, staring at him in shock. Out of all the things you expected him to say, that was not it. But Jake's familiar pattern of mocking you, hurling some insult, or trying to hit you where it hurts never came. Instead, he was looking at you like he was genuinely sorry. 

Another few seconds passed before you shook your head and swallowed. "I'm not entirely sure why I did. You're probably going to find some shitty way to use it against me or put it on that list you mentioned."

There was nothing mean in his voice when he shook his head, gently replying, "Not too bad to have on hand." 

You could hear the smile in his voice as he took a step forward, mud squishing under his boot as he took over leading the way. "If I ever do stand a chance of topping your wise-ass remarks."

Despite yourself, despite knowing you'd never see him again after you got out of this park, you let out a small smile as you followed after him.

"Keep dreaming, asshole."

Not so mean, are we now, Midge?

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Taglist -> I've been off on here, so if you've messaged or commented and I haven't seen it, please let me know, and I will add you as long as I'm still on this trail basis thing.

-Lucky ☘️

[ivystoryweaver]

With You part 6

<- prev next -> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: Will you always have to wake up in the middle of the night just to get to know Jake? Marc and Steven notice your yearning to see Jake again.

Pairings: Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader, Jake Lockley x reader. Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings/notables: Fluff, complicated relationship stuff, cursing, angst, sex but the language is not overly explicit and nothing gender-specific. Let me know if I missed a warning. inaccurate DID, based on the show. Not beta'd we die like arthur harrow in the back of jake's car

Dividers by saradika

PREVIOUSLY, on "With You"...

Wondering what he would ever do without you, Marc pulled you close, gently swaying with you in the silence of your flat. He had always felt so hard to love - his childhood had made sure of that. But you loved him hard.

One of the delicious advantages of being with Marc was that he liked to bury his angst, longing and inadequacies inside your body. Perhaps fucking through his feelings wasn't the healthiest coping mechanism, but it was better than drinking, and cheaper than therapy.

That's not to say Marc didn't see a therapist - he did, pretty regularly. But being inside you felt so much better than unearthing the shit from his childhood.

That's where you found yourself now, face down on the mattress, Marc's strong chest pressed to your back. Your sweat-soaked bodies writhed in tormented bliss as he thrust in and out of you - hard and almost frustratingly slow.

His thick fingers pushed their way through yours, intertwining, pressing your hands high above your head as he twisted his body deeper into yours.

You were helpless beneath him. And you loved it.

Marc was able to control so few things about his existence. The use of your body was one thing you happily and trustingly put completely in his control.

You and Marc did make soup together for dinner, but no matzah balls were harmed in the making of the soup. It was hearty enough for Marc, but also vegan for Steven. You made a mental note ask Jake what kind of food he liked.

"I don't think Jake's a vegan," Marc spoke up, reading your mind. "I think he's the reason my sandwiches are gone half the fuckin' time."

Marc and his sandwiches. He had sworn up and down, on more than one occasion, that either you or Steven had eaten his damn roast beef sandwiches. You always denied it, preferring turkey to beef. And Steven always fired back with, "Y'know I don't eat that shite, mate."

"Oh my god, I think you just solved a mystery," you marveled. The Mystery of the Roast Beef Sandwich and its thief.

Yeah, Marc wondered what else Jake was prone to stealing. Clothes? Money? You?

Then again, Marc couldn't really say anything about money at the moment. He didn't have a job, unless he counted the occasional times he fronted during Steven's university library shift. You were the breadwinner, at least for the time being, lovingly supporting Steven in getting a degree to actually match up to his intellect.

But sharing you? Was it even sharing if it was the same body? And was it even his business if you wanted to be with Jake? He had no fucking clue. All he knew was that you were about to be his spouse. Steven's too, really. But you barely knew Jake. How could you marry someone you didn't know?

"I can hear you thinking," you teased, slathering some fresh-baked bread with butter. "Wanna talk about it? Cause I don't think I can go anymore rounds today - between you and Steven." Meaning Marc wouldn't be able to bury his worries inside you until your body got a damn break.

"Do you mean between me and Steven and Jake?" Marc pointedly asked.

You dropped the butter knife. "W-what?" You squawked. "I haven't slept with Jake."

"But...you want to." Easing beside you, Marc leaned back against the kitchen counter. "Do you?"

You reallly should have spouted off a quick 'no'. But you hesitated.

"Shit," he groaned. "I shoulda known."

"I didn't say anything!" You protested, a little too innocently.

"Exactly," Marc huffed. "You didn't deny it."

"You kind of put me on the spot," you defended, retrieving the knife and returning to your task, furiously coating a slice of bread with five times too much butter. "Besides, Jake drives me crazy. If he climbs in the damn window again, I think I might shove him right back out."

"Ah, hell, it's worse than I thought," Marc grumbled, folding his toned arms over his chest in a distinct, defiant pout.

"How is it worse?" You scoffed. "And...what is worse?"

"You... him... shit," he sighed. "He got to you."

"He didn't," you protested. "Nothing happened. N-not really..." your voice trailed off as Marc's eyes flashed with possessiveness.

"Not really? I thought you said he didn't touch you. What the hell..." He paused, glancing at his reflection in the microwave.

"Is that Steven?" You interrupted, barging in to what you usually respected as private conversation between the boys. "What is he saying?"

Fixing his eyes back on you, Marc smirked triumphantly. "He's saying you look 'a bit flustered,' which would make sense, since you wore those black satin pj's and set your alarm just to see 'that mysterious bloke'."

"Steven, you are such a traitor!" You whined. "You guys are ganging up on me! I just wanted to talk to him."

"Mm-hmm," Marc hummed, caging you in against the counter with one arm on either side of your body. "So that's all you did - talk? In black satin? In the middle of the night?"

Narrowing your eyes, you called his bluff. "You guys are really obsessed with those pj's. Maybe you would have preferred I only wore your t-shirt? Or, I could have slept the way I sleep with you half the time - in nothing."

"Sure, mm-hmm," Marc playfully nodded down at you, mockingly agreeing with every word out of your mouth.

"Besides," you added, giving his chest a playful shove, "who knows how many times Jake has come home and found me like that - then slept beside me anyway?"

Marc went dead silent.

"I'm gonna kill him," he decided, waiting just a beat before scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder, spinning you around the kitchen playfully. "First him..." you squealed as he tickled your side, feeling a mixture of giddiness and dizziness as he manhandled you, "then you. And then him again."

"Marc, put me down, put me down!" you giggled delightedly, banging your fists on his back.

After a few more twirls, and howls of laughter from you, he conceded, steadying you back against the counter. The two of you were smiling, breathless... his strong arms caged you in again as he wet his lips with his tongue.

Ducking down, he pressed his body into yours, breathing hotly against your open mouth.

"Promise me something..." he murmured, sucking on your bottom lip and swiping his tongue inside your mouth. He pulled back just a little, teasing you.

"What?" you impatiently demanded, chasing after his lips.

Sliding one hand around the back of your neck, he crushed his lips to yours, giving you what you really wanted. Gripping your jaw, he slid his tongue over yours, licking hotly as you groaned in satisfaction. You could never get tired of kissing this man.

"Promise me," he finally whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth, nuzzling your cheek with his nose. "Promise you'll tell me if something does happen - with Jake, I mean."

Easing back, he stared down into your eyes - his own warm, brown gaze pleading. "I know you don't have to. It-it's not my business, really, but..."

Sighing reluctantly, he poured his heart out to you. He knew he was safe with you - safe to show you what he really felt inside. "It's not like Steven," he admitted. "I don't know Jake. I just...I don't want anything to happen to you."

Nodding quickly, you reached up to caress his face. "Marc, of course. You're going to be my husband - of course I would tell you that."

"Really?" His eyes sparkled with relief and love.

"Yes, really," you sweetly whispered. "And I know there's no part of you that could ever hurt me."

After all that fuss with Steven and Marc, and the damn black satin pajamas, you actually thought you might see Jake again soon - particularly since he had finally introduced himself to his alters.

You thought wrong.

Jake went back to being Jake, not interacting with you or Marc or Steven, and the three of you were none the wiser about how he spent his time.

You couldn't wreck your entire sleep schedule just to look for him every night. He clearly had no intention of interacting with you during waking hours. You tried very hard not to take it personally. After all, you barely knew one another. But Steven and Marc could tell you thought of him...worried after him.

"I think you should wait up for him one night, love," Steven suggested one evening as you sat cuddled on the couch, reading together. London was being London again. The heavens had opened, dumping cold, wet rain for hours, and creating the perfect, candlelit night in for you and Steven.

Glancing over at your fiancé, so adorable in his oversized jumper, your eyebrows knit together questioningly. "You mean, set my alarm? 'Ambush' him again?"

Reaching up to pull his reading glasses off his nose, Steven shrugged. "Don't think it's much of an ambush, really. Just lovely you wanting to talk, is all. No harm in that."

Smiling warmly, you reached for his hand. "I don't think he sees me quite the way you do, my love."

"Not very bright then, is he? Running 'round at all hours for the old bird, missing the chance to come home to a wonder like you."

"Steven," you gasped, grinning at him. "Talking like that is going to bring an end to our night of reading very quickly."

"Fine by me, darling," he chuckled, tossing his book aside without even bothering to mark the page - something Steven never did. "Because I'm not the dimwitted bloke ignoring what's right in front of me." Scooting closer, he pulled you into his arms. "His loss is my gain, I'd say. Have you all the more to m'self."

So it was decided.

You would wait up for Jake (or wake up -whichever) to see if he wanted to interact with you, and ask how he was doing. It was possible, and in your mind, likely, that he didn't want to be a part of your life. But you wanted to hear it from his own mouth, especially since he slept beside you - in your bed, in your home.

Despite your general apprehension, you decided to be your most normal self and sleep (or in this case, stay awake) in one of Marc's white undershirts - they were so soft and smelled so deliciously like him. Steven's fuzzy goldfish socks found their way to your freezing feet.

You took a long nap and drank a huge cup of coffee (made perfectly by Marc) before bed. You were determined to stay up and see how Jake typically began his nighttime routine. He always ninja'd around like some sort of Father Christmas - waiting til everyone was completely asleep before darting in and out of the flat.

It would be your luck that Jake probably wouldn't even front tonight, and your caffeinated body would stare at your sleeping fiancé for the next several hours.

At first, it was difficult to resist cuddling up with your sleepy Steven. He did manage to adorably whine that he needed you, but you quickly reminded him that this was his idea.

"Just miss you 's all," he murmured, drifting off to dreamland.

You got bored very quickly. Steven had recommended a podcast called, 'Welcome to Staying Awake.' Finding some headphones, you tried it out, following the directions it suggested - reading, solving a puzzle, and so forth.

You were just starting to doze in the comfy chair in the bedroom's corner when your fiancé stirred...only to roll over and fall back asleep.

"Ugh..." you huffed, pushing off your chair to head to the kitchen. After a quick splash of water to the face and a long drink of water, you stumbled back to your bedroom...

...where you saw Steven? pulling a pair of tailored black trousers up his legs - his cozy pj's nowhere in sight. Fastening his pants, he turned around - shirtless - nodding once to acknowledge you.

"Jake?" You tentatively greeted, breaking the late-night silence.

"Hola, mi amor," Jake's rich, deep voice greeted you smoothly - his chocolate eyes flickering down to your bare legs. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"Jake," you exhaled shakily, easing toward him slowly. "You didn't wake me up. I was waiting for you."

Warmth bloomed in his chest, but he simply reached for his white dress shirt, quickly easing his arms into the sleeves and fastening the buttons.

"Where...do you keep your clothes?" you cautiously asked, inching closer.

Nodding to the closet, he remained quiet, knotting his tie and sitting down on the edge of the bed to pull on his socks and shoes. Khonshu had awakened him. Time to get to work.

"Where are you going?" you questioned after a few quiet moments watching him getting dressed.

Finishing the lacing of his shoes, he stood, reaching for his leather jacket. Realizing your question was not rhetorical, he granted you a slight smirk. "You know where."

"Can I come with you?" You blurted, already flustered. How did he manage to do this to you?

Narrowing his eyes, he shook his head, tutting a bit condescendingly. "You're not serious."

"I am," you insisted, scurrying over to the drawer to find some joggers for your bare legs. Of course, in this state, compared to Jake, you would be way underdressed. He looked head-to-toe incredible.

The faster you moved, trying to get dressed in enough presentable clothing to go out into the frigid rain, the slower Jake moved. But each action was nonchalant, as if he barely noticed your effort.

Why was he so damn infuriating? Then again, those were the exact words he'd said about you...

Pulling a leather glove over his long fingers, one dark eyebrow shot up inquisitively.

"Almost ready," you huffed, feeling like a child asking to go to work with a parent.

Realizing you were serious, Jake yanked on the second glove, giving his knuckles a crack. "Mi corazón..." he warned, pulling his flat cap over the lustrous curls on his head, and wondering what had gotten into you. You couldn't possibly think he would let you anywhere near his night life.

You were dressed now, in a weird mixture of your clothes and Marc's, but your goldfish-clad feet still poked adorably out of your joggers. Glancing all around the room, your eyes frantically searched for the nearest pair of shoes.

Approaching you confidently, Jake reached for your elbow, bringing you to a standstill. "I have to go. You should sleep."

Yanking your arm out of his grasp, you huffed. "I told you I don't respond well to orders."

Rubbing his gloved hand over the stubble on his chin, he nodded, "Goodnight," and turned to walk out of the bedroom.

"No, I'm coming with you, Jake, wait--"

"No, mi corazón. No." He whirled around, his gaze burning into yours.

"Why not?" you shot back, your hands landing on your hips. "You're going to work, right? I need to talk to you. And I want to see what you do."

He scoffed. "No. You don't."

"Stop telling me no," you snapped, realizing this whole stay-up-and-talk-to-Jake thing was already an unprecedented disaster. You simply could not keep your cool around this man.

"Ah, I see - I can't tell you what to do, but you can give me orders." Stalking back over to the night table, he reached for Marc and Steven's phone.

"I-I'm not giving you orders...I just- why can't I come with you?" You were desperate. You realized, at that moment, that alll this was not a good look on you. What happened to cool, calm and collected you? What happened to the you who respected the hell out of Marc and Steven's autonomy and choices?

You went so far as not even trying to dictate to Marc whether or not he should drink. It was his choice, always - it had to come from him. So why couldn't you do the same with Jake? You knew the drill - people were going to do what they decided to do. Arguing the point was only arguing with reality itself.

Sure, you could explain your fears or needs, and Jake could take that information into account. But ultimately, every person in the world always chose what they were going to choose - period, the end.

"I'm not taking you out there. You know it's not safe," he explained with infuriating calmness. "I'm not exactly working a normal job here."

"You mean...you mean Moon Knight. Like...saving people. Like you did with me that night."

His eyes flashed - you couldn't decipher if it was anger or surprise. "Marc told you."

"Yes," you answered softly, taking a moment to breathe in deeply. You had to calm down and stop sounding so desperate. "I just don't understand why you can follow me - why you can watch over me and save me, but you won't just talk to me." Your lip trembled as you started to realize he just may not ever want to be in your life.

"I thought you said that I was your family," you whispered, moving close to peer up into his eyes. "But you haven't talked to me in a week. I've been worried...I've been thinking about you."

Wetting his lips, Jake swallowed hard and shifted from one foot to the other - the first inkling that you were having any effect on him whatsoever. His dark eyes flickered down to yours. "I told you I can take care of myself," he gruffly responded, his resolve beginning to crack. "So stop worrying about me."

"Stop telling me what to do," you fired back, refusing to shrink away. "You're driving me crazy. If you don't want to talk to me, or know me - if you want to sneak in and out of here every night and never see me again, then just say so."

Your chest heaved with emotion. "I won't like it and I won't ever stop worrying about you, or wanting to know you, but --"

You didn't get to finish because Jake roughly pulled you into his arms and crushed his mouth to yours.

@stormydaysxx laaundromat @kindlover @spxctorsslxt @deezisnotreal

@rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face 

idk if all the tags work. I tried!

[roosterforme]

Gonna Make You Sweat | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is determined to get back in peak physical condition, but you are more of a distraction than he anticipated.

Warnings: Fluff and smut

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! (But it can be read on its own) Check my masterlist in my profile for the reading order!

Bradley had finally graduated from physical therapy, and while he had regained full use of his left arm, the scarring was still very much present. He hated the way it looked, but there wasn't much he could do about it. 

But what he could do, was get himself back in top shape before he married you. His physical therapist had given him the green light to work out as much as he wanted to, and he decided to buy a weight bench for the garage. 

"We don't really even use the garage, and this way we can have a home gym," he told you as he ordered everything online from his spot on the couch. 

You climbed into his lap and took his phone out of his hand. "Promise me you aren't doing this because you think you need to, Bradley. You're very physically healthy already. You go for a run most days, and I feed you very well."

Bradley examined your face. "Don't you miss my abs, Baby Girl?"

You just shrugged against his chest and ran your fingers under his shirt and across his belly button. "They were nice. This is nice, too. And I'm going to absolutely love it when you have a dad bod someday," you said, biting your lip and moaning. 

Just hearing you say the word dad had his dick signaling that it was time to be inside you, and that moan had him pushing you down onto the couch. 

"A dad bod, you say? As soon as you want that to happen, you just let me know, Sweetheart," he said, yanking your shorts off as you stroked him through his jeans. You giggled as he kissed your engagement ring and slid inside you. 

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

The gym arrived two weeks before Labor Day in what seemed like a million delivery boxes filled with pieces that needed to be assembled. Bradley coaxed you out to the garage one evening after work to help him put it together, but you weren't much help at all.

"Let's go to bed," you whined over and over again, crawling into his lap where he sat on the floor. "I like your body the way it is. You don't even need a gym."

He just chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. "Well, I just spent thousands of dollars on it, so it's staying. Need to look good for our wedding," he said, kissing your hair. "Besides, Jake has been acting weird, and everyone thinks he has a new girlfriend. I want to look better than him again so you can gloat to his girl next time we go to the beach."

You rolled your eyes so hard, Bradley had to laugh. "If Jake was seeing someone, I would know about it."

Bradley narrowed his eyes. "How?"

"Because we have girl talk all the time," you said as you nestled against his neck and rubbed your hand on his belly.

"You and Jake... have girl talk?"

"Yeah, he tells me stuff that happens and I let him know how he fucked up. I'd like to say I'm his guru," you said seriously, making Bradley laugh. 

"Well he certainly needs one. Help me put the last part together so we can go to bed," he said with a yawn. 

When he stepped back and inspected it, everything looked perfect. And when he started using it the following day, he was happy with his purchase. In fact, he ended up in the garage for an hour every night after he finished cleaning the kitchen from your dinner preparations. 

He'd been listening to the gym playlist you made for him and really getting back into the groove of things. His arm was giving him no pain now, and he was working himself slowly up to heavier weights.

"Looking sexy, Roo," you told him when you poked your head in, raking your gaze over his body. "All hot and sweaty."

Bradley sat up on the bench and patted his thigh with his gloved hand. "Wanna join me while I take a little break," he asked you innocently. 

Your lips parted and your nostrils flared, and Bradley was curious about what you would do. You were supposed to be going out for drinks with your colleagues and your boss to celebrate Bickel's upcoming promotion. But he knew you hated being late to anything work related, even a happy hour. 

Bradley watched you hesitate, your hands grasping the fabric of your dress where it sat against your thighs. "No!" you said suddenly. "I know how you are, and you do this to me all the time!"

"Do what?" he asked, cocking his head like he had no idea what you were talking about.

You sighed. "You make me late for everything, Bradley. Flaunting your appeal right in front of me. But not today, sir!" you said, spinning on your heel. A few minutes later, he heard your car start, and he returned to his workout with a big grin. 

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

Bradley checked himself in the bathroom mirror before he pulled on an old tee shirt for working out. Just a week later, and he was already feeling better. He jogged through the house and let Tramp out into the back yard as he headed for the garage. He could probably squeeze a quick workout in before he needed to shower to leave for the airport. 

He turned on his playlist and got to work, singing along to everything and completely losing track of time. 

"Bradley! I thought you would be in the shower by now!" you said when you strolled into the garage. 

He set his barbell down and turned to face you. "What time is it?"

"Their flight lands in an hour," you told him, strolling closer. You were wearing one of those romper things he both loved and hated. They looked cute, but they were annoying to take off. 

He licked his lips, tasting his own sweat there, and when you got close enough he reached out and grabbed your hand. "We've got time," he said, his voice deep and raspy. 

"Roo," you cautioned, pressing your lips together, but he was already pulling you down to sit on his thigh where he was straddling the bench. "You look good," you whispered, and he grabbed your chin, kissing you hard. 

"Do I?" he asked between kisses. 

"Mmhmm," you hummed. But you were already moaning softly, turning to face him a little more and running your hands up and down his sweaty biceps. He watched you pull away from his mouth, your tongue darting out to taste the sweat that trickled down his cheek. 

Bradley could feel his balls tighten as you pulled your tongue back into your mouth before licking your lips. "You always look good," you added, pulling his shirt off and running your fingers along his flat tummy while you kissed and licked his neck. 

After he made sure all of the weights were locked in place, he turned back to you, tipping you down until you were laying on your back on the bench one leg over each side. "You always look perfect," he whispered, unbuttoning your romper and guiding it carefully down your body, watching you lift your hips so he could remove it. You had skipped a bra, something he was wild about, and he hummed against your skin as he kissed your breasts.

"I wasn't kidding though," you gasped. "I liked your little belly. The precursor to the dad bod looked hot on you."

Bradley wrenched your underwear off and planted kiss after kiss on your pussy as he eased his gym shorts and boxer briefs just low enough to get his dick free. The bench was narrow, and there wasn't a lot of room to work with, but he managed to get himself in a good position to slip into your wet slit. 

"Oh," you gasped, reaching for his shoulders as he leaned over you. 

"Listen, Baby Girl. Whenever you wanna make me a daddy, you just let me know," he told you, moving in a steady rhythm inside you as he planted his hands on your hips for leverage. "I'll give up the abs to spend my time changing diapers instead."

"Oh!" you whined louder, biting your lip. Bradley leaned down to kiss you, and he watched a drop of his sweat land next to your mouth. He was mesmerized by your tongue darting out to taste it.

"Oh fuck, Sweetheart. I'm ready to be a daddy when you want me to be," he promised running his thumbs in soft circles along your pelvic bones as he fucked you a little harder.

"You're already my Daddy," you whispered, and Bradley thought his brain must have shut down. 

His movements came stuttering to a halt just as you started whining for more. And when you looked up at him, your eyes absolutely pleading for him to keep going, you once again whispered, "Daddy?"

Bradley slowly withdrew his dick and slammed himself back into you, never taking his eyes off yours. "Oh!" you gasped. "So you like it when I call you that?"

"Say it again," he growled loudly, fucking into you so hard, the bench moved a few inches across the floor as your tits bounced wildly. He watched your eyes roll back as you moaned Daddy a little louder. 

"Don't stop," he demanded, giving you everything he had left. 

"I won't, Daddy," you cried out. 

Bradley had no idea he would like this so much, but in fact, he fucking loved it. Now he was grabbing your waist so hard, he saw tears in your eyes as you chanted, "DAD-DY! DAD-DY! DAD-DY!" Each syllable you moaned matched perfectly with each thrust he landed.

He came so hard, his teeth were chattering. You were whimpering beneath him, completely disheveled with smeared makeup as you whined and squeezed every drop from his cock. Bradley withdrew himself from you and finger fucked his cum back inside. He leaned over you, teasing your swollen clit and working his semen into you until you were literally crying.

Then he kissed your tears away, his fingers still rammed deep inside your pussy. "Daddy loves you," he promised, as you tried to catch your breath. "You're Daddy's Baby Girl."

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

Bradley drove the Bronco to the San Diego International Airport with an enormous smile on his face. You had your left hand laced with his right, and he was slowly spinning your engagement ring around your finger while he drove. You had your head resting against his bicep while you selected songs from one of your playlists. 

His enormous smile still remained as he parked and helped you out, walking you to the terminal with his arm wrapped around your waist. Your romper was a wrinkly mess, and you still had a small smudge of mascara below your eye, and he knew your pussy was filled with his cum. He fucking loved you.

Sex in the garage had made you late, and your parents were already waiting next to the baggage carousel when the two of you arrived. 

"Oh, honey! Show me your ring!" your mom called as soon as she saw you. Bradley let you out of his grasp as you went to hug them both, and he smiled, because he knew how lucky you were to have both parents here.

Then he almost choked as he heard you greet them, "Mom! Daddy! I missed you."

Bradley shook hands with your father, but he was barely able to make eye contact with him. This was going to be a very long weekend. 

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

Oh, Baby Girl, he loved that so much! Well, stay tuned for A Love You Don't Find Everyday...there will be more of Baby Girl and Daddy Roo and their next adventure!

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[samandcolbyownme]

Make up sex make up sex make up sex Make up sex make up sex make up sex Make up sex make up sex make up sex Make up sex make up sex make up sex Make up sex make up sex make up sex Make up sex make up sex make up sex Make up sex make up sex make up sex 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Summary: A year into reader’s relationship with Johnnie, reader realizes just how busy Johnnie can get with what he does for work, and just how easily he can push reader off.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, angsty, arguing between reader and Johnnie, fighting for love/relationship, unprotected makeup sex, kissing, hair pulling, slight choking, oral (both rev), creampie, filth with a dash of fluff? Enjoy!

Word count: 2.5k | not edited

Also, this song is sooo good. It’s one of my favorite songs in general, so please I beg of you to listen to this before or during your read.

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

“Therapy is tiring.” You joke and, “I’ve tried it before and it just felt like I was being judged, you know?”

You glance down at Katrina, who’s in the screen of your phone on FaceTime. She nods, “Right, but so is hiding how you feel. I’ll have to give you the number for mine. She is phenomenal.”

You nod, pacing back and forth as you stare out the window, “I’ve brought it up to him a few times already, Kat. I just..”

You run your hands over your arms, wrapping them tightly around your body, “Maybe we aren’t meant to last?”

“Don’t say that, y/n. Johnnie loves you, he just probably isn’t used to having someone like you around.”

“You mean being the first girlfriend he’s had in a while?” You laugh slightly, “Jake always picks on him about it.”

“Then yeah.” Kat laughs, “I would just give it one more try and if it doesn’t get better..” she trails off, “You know I have an extra bedroom open, right?”

You smile, glancing at her in the phone, “You remind me every time I talk to you about this.”

She shrugs, “Just letting you know you have a good plan b in case things.. go.. you know.”

It’s silent for a few seconds, “Just remember that there’s no better vengeance than learning to enjoy things again.”

“I just want him go get the message, like. No one is fucking shatter resistant. A person can only take so much shit.”

You hear the front door open and you sigh, “Johnnie’s here. Gotta go.”

“Good luck. Love you bye!”

“Love you bye.”

You turn around and walks out of the bedroom, making your way down the steps of his shared house with Jake.

He glances up at you and smiles slightly, “Hey babe.”

You walk over to him, planting a kiss on his lips, “Hey.” You go to walk away but he grabs your wrist, pulling you back into him, “Whoa. What’s wrong?”

You laugh slightly, mainly at the fact that this is the first time he’s noticed something was wrong in days, “Nothing, why do you-“

“You look like you’ve been crying.”

You shrug, “I’m fine.”

“No, talk to me.” Johnnie pushes and you shake your head, taking a step back, “Johnnie.” You whine quietly and he reaches out to grab your hips, “Baby.”

You snap, the second his hands touch your hips, “Fuck, Johnnie.” You take a deep breath, letting out a loud sigh right before the words spill from your lips.

“I’ve been like this for days, Johnnie. Upset, tired, angry.” You look at him, “Days, and now, when you get home and I’m assuming in the mood to fuck, you want to actually take more than a fucking second to look at me and think hmm, okay something wrong.”

“Jesus Christ.” Johnnie breathes out, “Where the fuck is this coming from? You do know that what I do for work causes me to be busy, right? I mean.” He shakes his head, “I’m pretty sure you knew that coming into this relationship.”

You keep your stare on him, “I knew that part of it, Johnnie. I did. I just didn’t know that you getting a girlfriend with this work meant that it’s okay to just push her away.”

“That’s not-“

“if it’s not what you do then please tell me.” You motion towards him and he takes a deep breath, shaking his head.

“Fucking Christ, Johnnie. Leave me something, give me something.”

“What do you want, y/n?” Johnnie looks at you and you look at him, actually kind of shocked that he would even ask that, and right as you opened your mouth to say something, he cuts you off, “Sorry, that- stupid fucking question.”

You raise your brows, “You push me, and you pull me around, figuratively speaking. And I let you do it because I don’t want to leave.”

“I mean fuck Johnnie. I feel like I’m a speaker that is about to blow because it can’t handle much more bass, my head feels like it’s going to explode but I’m still here, because I love you, and and we’re good, we’re good.”

He looks at you and your eyes meet his, “I fucking love you, and I just.. I’m fucking starving for attention Johnnie. Your attention.”

You feel your throat burn, “I didn’t ever really think that it.. it was too much to ask, but honestly, we need to work on this or you let me out be-“

Johnnie starts talking, and he sounds mad, “You want to leave?”

You sigh, feeling exhausted with repeating yourself, “No, Joh-“ you groan, “I literally just said that I don’t and said why.”

You run a hand through your hair, fighting back the tears harder, “Fuck. Okay.” You take a deep breath and look down, you can’t hold back the tears when you think of the next thing you wanted to bring to his attention.

“I just.. for the last few weeks, I feel like I’ve been balancing on a razor blade around you. I’m supposed to be here to help you relax after a long stressful day. Instead, I just feel like I add to it.”

He shakes his head, “No, baby.”

You keep your gaze on the floor, taking in a quiet breath as you look up and wipe your face, “We’ve been together a year, Johnnie.”

You drop your hands, the slap echoing through the room and he just stares at you, “Our anniversary was yesterday, I waited to see if you’d remember, I even set a reminder in your phone a few days ago.”

You let out a stressed laugh, “I just.. we were doing so good and then it’s like I became one of your friends, your roommate who you occasionally sleep with.”

Tears fall down your cheeks, “How the fuck does that happen, Johnnie?”

At that moment, Jake walks through the door with Tara and you turn away. Johnnie walks up to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, “All good guys, we’re just-“

Johnnie walks you to the bedroom and you can tell just from that conversation that Jake and Tara were definitely concerned.

Johnnie shuts the door, and you turn to him, “Why am I here if that’s all we’re going to do? I’m just sitting here waiting for the start of things that I want with you, this happily ever after, with you.”

He stands there, “Well get that, I just..”

“How? Most of the time it just seems choking on your words and swallowing them is just a fast and easy way for you to not actually talk to me. You’re supposed to be my emergency contact, Johnnie. Someone I know will be there for me no matter what. Fuck, the last few nights, I’ve ended up passing out on the couch while you slept in the bed. I just can’t sleep anymore knowing that I don’t know where the hell I stand in your life anymore.”

“I love you.” He steps closer, “Please, don’t judge me for what I’m about to say.”

You look at him confused, “Never.”

He walks you over to the bed, “I forget that I have a girlfriend sometimes.”

You try not to laugh, “Um, okay.” You tilt your head, closing your eyes.

“I’m serious.. like you seen how Jake picked on me. I really haven’t had anyone in my life with the girlfriend label, and I just.. it feels so new to me.”

“So you need me to train you.” You smirk, looking over at him and he rolls his eyes, “I’m not a dog, babe.”

You reach over, ruffling his hair.

He really does have good sex appeal, because now that your villain has settled, all you can think about it making up this argument to him with sex, proving just how much you love him.

Johnnie’s hand slides to your neck, pulling you in for a kiss.

Or the other way around.

“I’m so sorry I forgot our anniversary.” He kisses you, continuing to speak In between kisses, “I’m sorry.. that I.. haven’t.. been here.”

He pushes you back onto the bed, moving to straddle your thighs. His hands push your shirt up, gripping your bare waist.

He stares down at you, your hands move to rest on his forearms.

“I’m sorry, I have been shitty. I had a bad day and you caught me at a bad time.” He leans down, lips brushing against yours, “Please don’t leave.” His voice is low, almost a whimper, likes he’s begging.

Your hands slide to his neck, “I’m not going anywhere, baby.”

The space closes between you and the grip on your hips tighten, “You’re a fucking angel.” He lifts his head, “My angel.”

You smile, biting your lip as he moves to push his legs in between yours. You move them, wrapping them around his waist.

He grinds his hard bulge against your clothed pussy, earning a surprise moan from you,

He kisses down your neck, “Love those pretty sounds.”

He bites down on your neck, earning more of the sounds he wants to hear, “Mine.” He bites down in a different spot, groaning as he grinds against you, “All mine.”

“All yours.” You agree, moving a hand up to tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, “Johnnie, please.” You whimper, “I need you.”

“You have me. All of me.” He kisses up to your lips, “You can always count on me. From here on out, I promise.”

His lips crash onto yours as his hands slide up your shirt, keading and groping at your bare tits, “So perfect.” He pauses, squeezing them slightly rough which gets you to moan out as your back lifts up from the bed, “F-Fuck.”

He sits up, moving to pull the tight, black tee from his body. You bite down on your lip as your eyes scan over his tattoo covered body.

You could never get enough of him.

You hands reach up and you work at undoing his belt, then the button on his jeans then finally, his zipper.

He pushes them down while you work on undressing yourself.

You toss your shirt to the floor and look up at him as you lay back down. His brushes hair from his eyes and you watch as they scan over your face.

He uses his teeth to play with his lip rings while his hand slides up your spread thigh. Your breath hitches when he stops just on the outer edge of your pussy.

You wiggle your hips and a smirk plays with his lips before he drags the tip of his pointer finger up and down your soaked folds.

A gasp escapes your lips and your groan, “More, baby. Please.”

You grip the sheets, clenching around his finger as he slides it in, “Yesyesyes.”

Johnnie leans down, moving to lay beside you. He nudges his nose against your cheek, “after this.. we can do anything you want.”

You nod, glancing down at his finger slowly sliding in and out of your pussy, “Johnnie.” You whine, “Stop teasing.”

He instantly starts to slip in his middle finger and you throw your head back, moaning out as you squeeze your walls around them.

“I’m so sorry. I’m going to make it up to you.” He leans in, kissing your neck as the speed in the thrusts of his fingers picks up, “I’ll do anything you want.”

You reach over, hand wrapping around his cock, “Let me use my mouth on you.”

Johnnie bucks his hips slightly into your hand and he pulls his fingers out before rolling onto his back. He motions for you to come to him and when you go to bend down towards his cock he stops you.

“No, no. I’m making you feel good, too.” He reaches over, laying a hand in your thigh, “Sit on my face and lean that way.”

He points out from him and you catch on, facing away from him before swinging your leg over his head.

He wastes no time with grabbing your hips and pulling your down.

You let out a surprised moan, jumping slightly when you feel his tongue lap over your folds.

You lean down, moaning out as you lay the tip of his cock on your tongue. His hips buck and the grip on your hips tightens as he groans against you.

You take half of him in your mouth, swirling hour tongue as you bob your head.

Johnnie’s head slams onto the mattress away from you, hips bucking toward as he groans, “F-fuck..”. He digs his fingertips into your skin harder, “just like that, baby.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as you take him all the way in, gagging around him as his hips buck, “Shit, shit.” Johnnie lets out a groan, “F-fuck. Okay.”

He taps your hips and you lift your head, breathing heavy as you move to sit next to him.

He pulls you down, tongue slipping into your mouth as his lips press to yours. You moan at the taste of yourself on his lips, pulling him towards you.

He moves back to in between your legs and it wasn’t long ago all before his cock was slipping into your soaked cunt.

His head falls and his lips are against your neck, “Feels so fuckin’ good.” He groans lowly as he starts to thrust.

Your legs tighten around his waist and your chest presses against his, “H-harder please.” You turn your head, lips searching for his as he obeys your request.

His thrusts growing harsher, hips slamming into yours, earning whines and moans from you.

“M’so sorry, baby.” He mumbles against your lips, “I love you.” He groans, a hand coming up to gently lay on your neck.

“I love you.” You lay a hand on his, urging him squeeze harder.

He obliges, squeezing your neck which earns a squeak from you as your eyes roll closed.

Johnnie brings you closer to orgasm with his words, slowing his thrusts down as he whispers sweet and dirty things in your ear, “I love you so fucking much.”

“You’re so tight, fuck.”

“Sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re so fucking perfect.”

The band snaps. You cling to him, moans pour from your lips as he releases his grip and moves it down to rub rough circles on your clit, “There ya go, baby. Just like that.”

You roll your hips into his thrusts, whining out as he guides you through your high, “Cum in me.” You whimper out, pressing your lips to his in a sloppy manor, “Please, Johnnie.”

“F-fuck, fuck.” He grips your hips tight and you feel his cock twitch. You bite down on his lower lip and moan out, “Fill my pussy.”

Within seconds, he’s again, obliging to your request, which he will continue to do even after you’re done.

You moan, kissing him as you feel him thrust into you, pushing his cum as deep into you as it will go.

He brings his hand up, thumb brushing over your cheek, “I really am sorry, y/n.”

You peck his lips a few times gently, “It’s okay.” You whisper, biting down on your lip as he pulls out. You sit up, slowly moving to stand up.

As soon as you rise to your feet, Johnnie’s arms are around your waist and his voice is low, “You’re literally the best person I have in my life and I just want you to know that you are my emergency contact.”

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

Thank you so much for reading! As always, please let me know what you thought. I love you all so so so much! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[discount-shades]

Sleepy Baby Part 1

a/n: I got this in my head and couldn’t find another fic that mentioned it. This is the first fic I've ever written.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/reader

Warning: brief mentions of car crash and cheating

Word Count: 1100 ish

Summary: Jake must defend his call sign to a stranger, and he is on a timer. 

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You checked the timer on your phone for the third time, sighing at the 32 minutes remaining. One hour, every week, socializing with strangers. That was the deal you made with your therapist. 

Eighteen months after a horrific car crash killed your fiancé and childhood best friend your therapist suggested you ‘get back out there.’ It wasn’t just their deaths that you were working through in your twice monthly therapy sessions. It was the fact that she was blowing him when they crashed. You thought that was something that only happened in movies and tv shows.  Your grief was… complicated. 

So here you were at the bar of the week nursing a whiskey sour until the timer on your phone said you could go home. You surreptitiously glance around. Judging by the uniforms of the other patrons and the décor the Hard Deck was a military bar. You massage your temples and check your phone again, 29 minutes to go. 

“Need some company while you wait for your date?” You glance to your left at the southern drawl. An unfairly handsome man in a uniform with green eyes is looking down at you and you stare a little too long. “I’ve been watching you check your phone,” he explains, “he’s an idiot to keep you waiting.“ 

“I'm not expecting company,” you roll your eyes at him. “But thank you for assuming I’m being stood up. It was definitely the vibe I was going for.” You take another sip of your drink so you have something to do with your hands. 

A slow smile breaks out across his face. “In that case I’m Hangman.”

“I'm sorry your parents hated you.”

At your deadpan response he chuckles. “It’s my call sign,” he explains smugly. “I'm a fighter pilot.” He is easily the most attractive man in the bar and he knows it, and there is something about his inflated ego that makes you want to pop it. Just a little.

“Hangman like the spelling game?” you ask and he nods and brushes your arm, leaning into you.

You hum noncommittally, cocking your head as you look at him. “You know some schools discourage playing hangman.” You tell him. “They don’t want to encourage violence in children so they play Sleepy Baby instead.”

“Sleepy Baby?” He asks in confusion, leaning back.

“Yeah, you draw a baby in a crib instead of a man on the gallows,” you grin at his scandalized expression. “You could change your pilot name to Sleepy Baby, so you don’t scare the children and all.” 

“Darling, you are the only one I’d let call me ‘baby’.” You laugh at his smooth recovery. “What’s your name, beautiful?” He is charming despite his ego and his intense stare is giving you butterflies. 

“Tic-tac-toe.” 

“Imma call you Hugs and Kisses and you can call me Baby.” You can’t help but laugh at his confidence. 

“So if you are not waiting for anyone why are you always checking on your phone?” The pilot sits down beside you leaning forward again so his knees brush against yours. 

You contemplate your answer before deciding that fuck it, you will be at another bar next week and will never see the handsome pilot again so might as well be honest. “My therapist has suggested that I should ‘socialize with adults that are not coworkers or the children I work with.’” You explain. “So one hour a week I must socialize.” You wave your hand vaguely at the bar. 

“Are you one of those teachers banning hangman?” He asks in mock outrage, graciously glossing over most of your explanation. 

“Child Activity Coordinator at a local library actually, but yeah I’ve been know to play a few rounds of Sleepy Baby.” You say with a shrug.“ Some parents get upset at certain things and it’s easier just to avoid it than die on the hill of hangman. Plus there was one little boy who would cry when the man was hung so it was best to avoid the tears.”

“He would cry every time?” The green eyed pilot has a fond smile on his face. 

You nodded. “I mean the same kid also cried when someone stole his imaginary kitten so some things can’t be helped but sometimes it’s just easier to avoid it.” You said with a grin remembering the moment. 

“It’s hard to believe we live in a world where imaginary kittens aren’t even safe.” He shakes his head solemnly and you burst out laughing. The unexpected arrival of the cocky pilot has been a delightful addition to your evening. 

“So one hour a week?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. “How much time do I have left?”

You check your phone, “you have 17 minutes, Flyboy.” You grin. “So what made you join the AirForce?”

He looks offended. “Darling, I'm a Naval Aviator.” 

You blink blankly at him. “I was genuinely not aware the Navy had pilots.” 

“The navy has aircraft carriers,” he grins “who do you think flies the planes?”

“Honestly, I never thought about it and I think I just assumed it was a Navy / Air Force cooperation situation.” You trail off still thinking before shrugging. “I guess you learn something new every day.”

“I could teach you something else,” he sends you a flirty wink.

“I think I’ve reached my knowledge quota for the day,” you laugh back. “But what did you learn today?”

“That my call sign breaks the heart of little boys and their stolen imaginary kittens, and I could use a therapist that suggests going to a bar.”

“Good news Sleepy Baby, I don't think you needed the help to make it here.”

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket notifying you that your hour is up and a not so small part of you is disappointed. You pull your phone out and hold up the timer to the pilot in front of you. “That’s time.”

“Can I get your number?” He asks hopefully as you gather your purse and finish your drink. “We could spend the full hour together next time, therapists advice on socializing and all.”

“I’ll pass this time, but next time, who knows?” You say as you stand, feeling a little sad that you will never see him again. 

“As long as you remember, Hugs and Kisses, I’m in the Navy.” 

You look up at him grinning. “Don’t worry, I’ll remember.” 

As you leave you walk by the jukebox glancing down and see the perfect song on the track lists. You hit the number grinning to yourself as you walk to the door. 

When you reach the exit you turn around and find the green eyed pilot has made his way back to some others in uniforms at the pool table. “Hey Baby,” you call out over the noise of the bar. You grin when he looks up eagerly as the Village People begins to play over the jukebox. “This song’s for you!”  You shoot him a mock salute as you walk out the door. 

[topguncortez]

Are You With Me | | Chapter 3

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synopsis: Jake and Y/N fight over the hospital bill and whether its a good idea to keep the kids on Jake's insurance or night. Jake still has issues with Miles. Ella makes a decision in the course of her treatment.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: medical inaccuracies, divorce, fighting, cursing, childhood cancer, mentions of childhood death

Jake had made a joke once that Eli was the cheapest baby they had. Said joke had earned him a glare that was fierce enough to send a shiver down his spine. Y/N had mastered the “mom eye” after having two kids.

But, even though Jake’s joke was done in poor timing, he was right. Having a baby, although not planned one bit, at home had saved them quite a bit of money. Jake had always found it comical that he was the best of the best. The 1% of the 1% and had some of the worst health care coverage in the whole United States.

“I feel like I need to take a loan out to pay these,” Jake rubbed his forehead, slipping his glasses off his face.

It was one of the rare moments that Jake and Y/N were both at the house. Y/N spent the day with Ella while Jake was at work and Alex was at school. Between Penny and Y/N’s mother Clara, they watched Eli for a couple of hours. Jake would then come to the hospital at night, staying with Ella while Y/N went home and made dinner and got the boys to bed. The Daggers had created a weekend schedule, each of them taking a saturday or sunday to stay with Ella so Jake and Y/N could both go home and recharge.

Though being at home was more stressful than watching their four year old getting pumped with toxins.

“Is that the bill?” Y/N asked as she walked into the kitchen after putting the boys down. She filled the tea kettle and set it on the burner, before pouring Jake a drink and taking it to him

“The first one, yeah,” Jake wiped a hand down his face, “Thanks,” He mumbled taking the rocks glass from her, “The ER visit cost thirty-three hundred dollars and insurance is only covering three hundred of it. The estimated total cost of care is around sixty-one thousand dollars.”

“Well,” Y/N swallowed, “I can always put Ella on my insurance. I get good-”

“No,” Jake sneered, “We agreed when we… we agreed when we divorced I would put the kids on my insurance plan because it’s cheaper.”

“Yes, but if this means compromising Ella’s care-“

“It’s not compromising anything!” Jake snapped causing Y/N to jump a bit in her seat. He scrubbed a hand down his face, “You got the kids and the house and everything else in the divorce. Let me help do this.”

Y/N nodded her head, “Fine,” She sighed, “We still have the rainy day fund.”

“Still not even going to make a dent in the payments,” Jake leaned back in his chair, “I’m tired of talking about this. How was Ella today?”

“Same as always,” Y/N shrugged, “Was fine in the morning before chemo, napped all afternoon and then threw up everything she ate. Her hair is becoming more of an issue for her… it’s becoming more noticeable.”

Ella’s hair had started to fall out as the weeks of chemo continued on. Jake and Y/N didn’t have the heart to shave it or cut it before Ella started therapy, wanting her to have the ability to make that decision for herself. But as the treatments went on, Ella’s confidence began to fade with each clump of hair that fell.

“Maybe we should just shave it,” Jake suggested as the tea kettle rang.

Y/N poured herself a mug, “No. She’s already losing so much autonomy over her own body. She should be the one who decides on her hair.”

“I hate to see her like that.”

“We all do,” Y/N took a sip of her tea, “But she was happy that Rooster and Dragon got to stay with her. Dragon mentioned something about watching Dateline.”

Jake chuckled, “Going to teach our four year old how to commit murder and get away with it.”

“She’s been stealing cookies and getting things she wants outta you since she was born.”

Jake couldn’t help it, he was a sucker for those big green eyes.

Silence fell over the two of them. It was moments like these where things almost felt normal between Jake and Y/N. Like the past two years had been a fever dream. That they had never spent a day apart. But then reality settled back in, and the awkwardness filled the air.

“I’m going to bed,” Y/N said, clearing her throat, “I put clean towels back in the guest room.”

“Thank you,” Jake nodded his head, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Jake.”

— — —

When Ella was born, she had a full head of dark curly hair. Y/N knew that she was going to have hair from all the heartburn she had experienced through the whole nine months. In fact, that was the first thing the doctor had called out in the middle of delivering the Seresin girl.

“oh gosh! she’s got a full head of hair!”

Y/N had always dreamed of having a little girl with gorgeous long hair, and she had been lucky to get just that. She couldn’t wait until Ella was old enough to sit up and her hair long enough that she could braid it and style it. Ella always had perfectly done hair when Y/N dropped her off for daycare. Ella liked to show off her matching bows or the intricate braid that her mother did to her classmates and teacher.

Miles had told them one of the most common side effects of chemotherapy was the loss of hair. Y/N thought maybe, just maybe, Ella wouldn’t lose her hair. They had gotten through the first week of treatment without any hair loss. But then week two rolled around, and it was the worst week of Ella Seresin’s life.

“Mommy! My hair!” Ella cried as she stood fresh out of the shower, with a clump of hair in her hands. Y/N did all she could to try and soothe her child as she pulled on the ends of her hair, more stands coming out.

“I know, baby,” Y/N fought back tears, “I know. It’ll be okay.”

For weeks, Y/N and Jake watched as Ella’s hair grew thinner and thinner. They switched from using a brush to using a wide tooth comb, hoping to save some of the frail strands of hair on her head. Ella knew that most kids on the floor didn’t have hair or wore fake hair. She knew that eventually, she would look like them.

“Do you want strawberry or cherry jello for lunch?” Y/N asked as she looked over the hospitals menu choices for today. Y/N wasn’t sure if it was because of stress but the hospital food wasn’t actually that bad. Plus, Val had kept Ella’s room stacked with snacks.

“Mommy,” Ella said.

“Yes, baby?” Y/N asked, putting the menu down and looking at her daughter, “What’s up, buttercup?”

“I want to cut my hair.”

“What?” Y/N was taken aback by her daughter’s words. Ella was wise beyond her years but this shocked Y/N to hear.

“I want to cut my hair. It keeps falling,” Ella said, touching her thinning hair.

Y/N nodded her head, “Of course, baby. We’ll do it tonight, when dad gets here. That sounds okay?” Ella nodded her head, a bright smile on her face, “Now, how about that jello.”

A couple of hours later, Jake was walking down the familiar bright colored walls of the children’s cancer ward. He always found it ironic that such a dark place was painted so brightly. Ella had only been there two months and already she had new neighbors on either side of her room. The cries of the parents haunted Jake at night and the images of little bodies being moved with sheets over their heads was enough to bring Jake to a panic. However, every time Jake walked closer to Ella’s door he was met with the beautiful sound of laughter. 

A smile graced Jake’s lips as he heard Ella’s laugh and that familiar snort that always made her laugh harder. But the moment he opened the door, his smile dropped. 

“Doctor Miles.” 

“Daddy!” Ella cheered and sat up in her bed, reaching out for her father. 

Jake walked over to her, greeting her with a hug and kissing her forehead, “How are you, bug?” 

“I’m good,” Ella nodded her head, laying back in her bed, “Doctor Miles is playing Bluey with me.” 

“I see that,” Jake looked over at Miles who was standing in the corner of the room now, “Where is Mommy?” 

“Sent her for a snack,” Miles answered, “She’s looking like the walking dead.” 

“Can we refrain from making death jokes?” Miles held back from rolling his eyes, “I’m here now, so you can go.” 

“I said I would wait here with Ella until-” 

“I’m her father and I say-” 

“You say nothing,” Y/N said, appearing in the doorway, “Thank you, Miles.” 

Miles nodded his head, “No problem, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ella, good job today.” He held his hand out for the little girl to give him a high five. 

Y/N waited a moment until Miles was out of the room before looking at Jake, “Really?” 

Jake just shrugged, “I had it under control.” 

“I’m sure,” Y/N sighed, walking over to Ella’s bed. The little girl curled up next to her mother almost instantly, “Do you want to tell your daddy what you want to do today?” Ella nodded her head and then looked at Jake. 

“I want to cut my hair.” 

Jake’s eyes widened as he looked from Ella to Y/N, “You do?” Ella nodded her head again. 

“The nurses brought some clippers and stuff earlier. I-I’ve never cut anyone’s hair so I-”

“I got it,” Jake answered, “I was cuttin’ boys’ hair in the bay at boot camp.” 

 “Okay,” Y/N said, feeling the familiar burn of tears in her eyes, “You ready, Elles?” 

“Yes!” Ella said, a bright smile on her face. 

Both Y/N and Jake walked with Ella to the bathroom where a nurse had brung in clippers, scissors, a razor, shaving cream and a step stool. Ella stepped up on the stool, looking at herself in the mirror that was covered with pink and purple flowers. Y/N leaned against the doorway, watching as Jake got everything set up, occasionally making funny faces in the mirror to make Ella laugh. 

“Gonna start now, are you sure this is what you want?” Jake asked his daughter. Ella nodded her head, “Okay. Here we go.” Both Y/N and Jake took a deep breath as he grabbed a lock of Ella’s hair and lifted the scissors. The sound of the shears closing together made the loudest sound Y/N had ever heard as a lock of brown went tumbling down to the ground. 

“You cut it!” Ella gasped. Jake’s heart pounded in his chest, then it relaxed as her giggles filled the room, “Do it again!” 

Jake looked at his wife through the mirror, seeing her red eyes but the smallest smile on her face, “Let’s keep going.” 

After every snip of the scissors, Ella giggled which made the whole situation somewhat better. Eventually Jake got to the point where he had to use the clippers. He gently moved them over her head, watching as the final pieces of hair fell from her head. 

“What do you think?” Jake asked, as he set the razor down in the sink. It was quiet for a moment as Ella looked herself over in the mirror. 

“My head is cold,” She said. 

Y/N chuckled as she stepped into the bathroom, walking up behind her daughter, “We’ll get you a hat or two or-” 

“Three!” Ella held up three fingers. Ella turned to face her mom, “Momma, don’t cry.” 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Y/N said, as Ella wiped a finger away from her cheek, “How about we take a shower and then watch a disney movie?” 

“Princess and The Frog! Daddy! Will you stay?” 

Y/N looked at Jake, who was cleaning up the hair around the bathroom, “Yeah. Of course. Let me finish cleaning this up, and I'll sneak down to the nurses lounge to make popcorn.” 

“Thank you,” Y/N said, sincerity in her voice, “Let’s get cleaned up, Elles.” 

A strange feeling settled over Jake’s chest as he watched his wife and daughter. A strange feeling that maybe, just maybe. . . things will be alright.

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