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This keeps happening literally just lost a hangman fic I was about to get into

Just lost a really fucking good sereshaw x reader fic 😭 no one talk to me till I find it

... And In Health

Jake Seresin x Aviator!Reader

Summary: A year after Jake has come to terms with his sickness, he might just have the opportunity to find the cure.

Notes/Warnings: note much, maybe some language? mostly just Jake being a sweety and being cute <3 This part is set about a year after the first one.

In Sickness...

When the waitress stops by your table for the fourth time, with a free pity-drink, your lip begins to wobble as she walks away. An hour ago you promised yourself you weren’t going to cry, at least not until you got home.

You’ve always been quick to emote, but even more so since your last breakup. Although you were shy and quiet, you hadn’t always lacked confidence in the romance department, but after finding your boyfriend sleeping with someone else, you hadn't realised the hit your self-esteem had taken until recently, when you’d started putting yourself out there again.

Suddenly instead of worrying about how your butt looked or what your hair was doing, you had deeper, far more troubling worries, like not ever being enough, and feeling like a constant burden.

Being stood up tonight was really, honestly, the very last thing you needed. Worse still, you knew that when you called your pickup, you were likely going to have to explain the situation, and that you weren’t looking forward to whatsoever. Which is why you’d been waiting out the time, so at least you might be able to convince Jake that your date had shown up.

You doubt he’ll believe you if you tried lying, your feelings were always much too clear on your face, you were practically an open book. Jake in particular always seemed to see right through you, like he was paying more attention to you, but you think he might just be observant of everyone. You wouldn’t allow yourself to go on thinking you were special in some way to him, even if the two of you had been slightly closer since your previous breakup.

You appreciated it, that’s as far as you would let yourself go. Jake had told you that he saw you as a friend, and even if you lacked self confidence in that friendship, you knew Jake was the sort of person who went hard for his friends.

Which was the whole reason he’d offered to pick you up tonight in the first place.

Your own car had been playing up and when you’d finally gotten it in the mechanics, they’d given you the unfortunate news that they weren’t going to have it back to you in time for your date tonight. You’d been telling Phoenix that you were going to cancel, as you didn’t feel comfortable being picked up by a date you didn’t know all that well, when Jake had chimed in that he would be your ride, if you still wanted to go. Although he still made you flustered when he fixed you with one of his looks, you really did trust Jake, and you wouldn’t have accepted if it were anyone else, because you also knew he would never have offered if he hadn’t meant it.

You have had a few regrets now, but you don’t let yourself linger on them. This whole situation was already pushing you to the edge, you know that Jake picking you up and likely being annoyed on your behalf shouldn’t count towards that… even if part of you feared he might start an ongoing joke about that time you were stood up.

You cringe when you shoot off an ‘all done’ text, and receive an ‘already??’ In reply, but you force yourself not to elaborate.

You don’t even have his car door shut before you’ve burst into tears.

“Hey, woah! What the hell happened?!” Jake’s voice is bewildered and slightly panicked, but quickly it turns hard. “Is he still in there? Wait here.”

Hurriedly you reach across to grab his shirt sleeve, one hand still rapidly trying to wipe your eyes, now filled with scratchy mascara specks.

“It’s fine, please. Just take me home?” You sniffle, trying your best to calm down and hope he looks past your sobbing and does as you ask. He doesn’t though, looking at you like you had absolutely lost your mind.

“You’re crying!” He gestures at you as if you weren’t away. You shake your head, before realising you can’t exactly deny it, and nod.

When he pulls open his door and steps out, he pulls himself from your grasp with little effort. Pathetically you let your hand drop and desperately wipe more at your eyes, trying to see where he’s going. You almost jump when your car door opens again and Jake appears, ducking down into your line of sight, his face stern, but his eyes slightly wide and very concerned. You feel bad for making him worry.

“Cricket,” Jake begins, digging into his glove box and pulling out a wad of face wipes. “I’m going to need you to explain to me why you are crying, otherwise I’m going in there.” He isn’t using his normal friendly voice, right now you’re confronted with Hangman, not Jake, and it actually comforts you a little. You knew how Hangman worked, Jake often gave you more cause for confusion.

“He didn’t come. I know I shouldn’t be so upset, I’m sorry. I’m just tired and—”

“—He didn’t come?!” He cuts you off, sounding disgusted, and when you look up at him, you see his lip curled and his face pulled into a snarl. You drop your gaze, and all of sudden his temper seems to disappear and change entirely.

“So you’re saying he’s not even in there for me to chat to?”

It makes you snort a little, and when you glance up at him, Hangman is gone and once again you’re with Jake. You watch him look away from you, over the top of his car roof, and let out a deep sigh, before he looks back at you, his expression unreadable, but soft.

“Here,” Jake takes the wad of wipes you’ve been holding on to and you’re too tired and worn out emotionally to protest when he tips your face up and begins cleaning off your ruined makeup. He goes about it a lot more diligently than you’d have expected, and about five minutes later, he grabs the fistful of now filthy, makeup covered tissues, and steps briefly away to throw them in a nearby bin.

When Jake returns, he doesn’t come to stand at your side again, instead he closes it and returns to the driver's seat.

“Have you eaten yet?” He asks, like the last ten minutes hadn’t happened. You shake your head, and rest it against the window as he lets out a breath, and begins to pull out. The hand he reaches out to balance on your car seat as he checks behind him almost makes you wish you could just hug him, but you push that feeling down.

“Alright. Let’s go get you some food then, sweetheart.”

It’s not the first time Jake has ever called you ‘sweetheart’, but it’s the first time he hasn’t been teasing you when he’s said it. Your pulse jumps at the almost casual intimacy of the way he says it, like he’d said it this way a hundred times before. Like this was something you did regularly with one another.

It’s almost a blessing he doesn’t say much else for the rest of the short drive, if you’re overthinking this much already. You feel stretched thin, tired from your work week, and even more tired now that you've expended all the effort and emotional preparation in order to come out tonight only for it to end in pure disappointment. All you want to do is hide under your blankets for the rest of the weekend, and maybe drink a bottle of red wine through a curly straw while you do.

Jake seems to have other plans though, as when the car stops at last, you aren’t outside your apartment building. Before you can even open your mouth and ask him where you are, he’s at your door again, pulling it open and holding out his hand.

“Where are we?” You know you sound silly, seeing as the big neon sign flashed bright in front of you through the window.

“At a restaurant. A good one, this time.” Is as far as Jake goes to explain to you. Dumbly, you unbuckle yourself and go to hop out of the car, forgetting that he holds a hand out for you. Jake doesn’t forget though, and quickly moves to take your hand before you can balance it on the car door.

The movement makes your pulse jump again, and this time it doesn’t stop, seemingly keeping its new fast pace going. You blink rapidly up at the blind who watches you carefully, your mouth opening, working like a fish for a moment as you try to get your brain working again, but Jake gets there before you.

“Humour me,” he says sweetly, giving your fingers a slight squeeze as he does, doubling your heartbeat again, but you can’t stop yourself from nodding. When he smiles at you, you half expect it to be a familiar cheeky smirk, but it’s not.

You let Jake help you from the car, and try to get ahold of yourself as he guides you away and toward the front door. He even leads you around the grating in the sidewalk which your high heels would surely fall through, and you wonder why you’d never considered that Jake would be a good date before. At least, you’ve never considered it beyond his cocky persona. You’ve never thought about how he would open your door for you, or gently hold your hand, or make sure you didn’t have to contend with holes in the pavement.

You’re still tired, but this turn of events shocks a small amount of adrenaline into you, and you decide that you have enough energy at least for whatever Jake has planned. Or, at the very least, you don’t have the energy to fight it, but you trust him, so you choose to trust that whatever it is, he means the best.

Jake releases your hand when he reaches for the door, and you find yourself startled by the feeling of loss that overcomes you when he does. You notice then for the first time that Jake wears a simple pair of slacks and a knit polo shirt that still sits a little rumpled from where you’d grabbed him by the sleeve earlier.

Once you’ve allowed yourself to be ushered inside the restaurant, you turn back and quickly smooth out the soft material, doing your best to be impartial to the feeling of his firm bicep under your fingertips, even though you find yourself needing to pull down the fabric where it seems to stretch even tighter around his muscled arm. Normally you really only take notice of Jake’s physique when he’s purposefully using it against you, to make you tongue-tied for his amusement, but this is really the first time you’ve found yourself up-close and personal, and you’re once more surprised by the intense desire you have to be hugged by him, to press yourself up against what you know to be his incredible strong body, feel that strength wrap itself around you.

Briefly you glance up at his face, expecting an amused smirk, but all you find is another unreadable expression, though his eyes do follow your movements closely. You finish your smoothing with a small pat, and turn away again. It takes another moment for you to feel him stir back into action behind you, and you find yourself again caught up in your thoughts as he steps slightly around you, to speak to a waiter who pops out to see you seated.

You’re vaguely aware that when you’re shown to your table, Jake pulls your chair out for you, and rests his hand briefly on your shoulder as you’re settled, squeezing it gently before he steps away to his own seat.

For a while the both of you are quiet as you mull over the menu, but the more your stomach begins to grumble, the more your senses seem to come back to you properly at last, and the bitter taste of disappointment and embarrassment that has been swirling around inside your chest and head all night begins to recede. This was just Jake, and even though sometimes he confused you, you knew Jake. You know that what he’s doing right now is his own way of hugging you and telling you it’ll be okay, like Phoenix would if she were in his place.

Your shoulders, which you hadn’t even realised had been slightly raised, relax as you place down your menu and take to studying the man in front of you instead. You’re able to watch him for a good minute before he turns the page of his menu, long enough to know he wasn’t reading it at all.

“I like Italian,” you venture, though your inflection makes it sound a little like a question, one you’re not sure you have the courage yet to ask.

“I know.” Jake replies, at last dropping the laminated booklet and linking his hands together on the table in front of him. You want to challenge him, but you stop yourself, figuring that knowing what your friends liked was the least someone could do.

You soften a little then, and drop your gaze to your place setting, straightening the silverware nervously, feeling his gaze locked on to you, and you chance peeking up at him as you talk.

“You really don’t have to–” you don’t even get to finish speaking before his sharp gaze flashes, eyes narrowing and he lowers his chin. “If you want dessert you won’t finish that sentence,” his words are humorous, but his voice maintains a level of sternness that you’d heard earlier when he’d been worried. You wonder if he usually masked his concern or anxiety with hardness. You wonder if that worked for him like it worked for you. You can’t deny that his cutting through your shit to get at the real problem was helpful when you were so prone to brushing off your own comfort for the sake of others.

Jake sighs then, but doesn’t even look away from you as he picks up the carafe of water and pours you each a glass.

“I’m not letting you go home tonight with that being the last date under your belt,” he sounds more casual now, and there's an offended scoff that punctuates his words, like the idea insulted him as well as you.

“This isn’t a date, though,” you hear yourself argue, though it's more out of sheer confusion than any real protest. You regret it immediately though, as Jake’s signature smirk makes an appearance, and he unfolds his hands to fix you with pure amusement.

You almost jump right out of your skin when something warm brushes over your hand again, and you realise too late that he’s taking it in his own, leaning toward you and cocking his head as his thumb begins brushing softly across the tops of your fingers, like he knew his actions have frozen you in place.

“Sure it is,” he tells you, and that seems to be that.

It takes you a moment to reboot your brain.

“You took all my makeup off…!” you protest after a moment, letting your arm go more slack as the feeling returns to the hand he holds. Jake raises an eyebrow, lips twitching.

“Don’t need it,” he shrugs, before relenting some. “For what it’s worth, in the two seconds I saw you before you started crying, it looked nice.”

You’re forced to reconcile with the idea that Jake thought you looked nice, and attempt to work out what that means for you now.

“Oh… Thank you…” is all you’re able to say, and are immediately greeted once again with his regular smirk, though it feels a little softer around the edges now, almost tender, but you think that must be only in your imagination.

“This is when you tell me how handsome I look,” Jake prompts, and you could roll your eyes and laugh him off, but the more you think about it, the more you actually agree with him.

“You look very handsome tonight.” you say, meaning it, finally able to laugh softly when he preens obviously at the praise.

“And have I been working out?” he’s definitely teasing you now, but you don’t mind so much, because his thumb is still slowly moving in circles over your fingers, which you’ve only just realised do feel rather cold.

“You’re always working out.” you tell him, your brows furrowing just a little but only for show. Jake fixes you with an amused expression and shakes his head. His hand tightens around yours just a little.

“Not always. Sometimes I take beautiful, lovely women out on dates.” he corrects you. Your heart leaps into your throat, and you blink at him, dazed.

“Sorry to interrupt your plans, then,” you joke, but it comes out a little more self-deprecating than you really mean. Jake narrows his eyes at you again.

“Are you questioning my tastes?”

“Almost always.”

“I’ll have you know that you are both beautiful, and inarguably lovely, Cricket.”

His words make you stare dumbly at him, mouth once more working like a fish to try and figure out what it is you’re supposed to say to that. You don't realise until it's too late that you’ve said those words aloud.

Jake smiles, full and wide and not teasing at all this time.

“You say ‘thank you, baby. This is the best date I’ve ever been on’,” he almost sing-songs.

“I’m not calling you ‘baby’!” you sputter, your brain going into overdrive at the thought of Jake calling you baby.

“Not yet you aren’t,” Jake blinks slowly at you, but he doesn’t back down from the statement, staring at you until you’re the one forced to look away, and he speaks again. “But I can be patient. I’ve been patient.”

You find yourself transfixed by what he could possibly mean by the fact that he’s been patient, but you don’t get the opportunity to ask, because your waiter returns and watch enamoured as Jake orders for you, not really that surprised that he knows what you want, but surprised that you’re so quickly becoming normalised to this behaviour from him.

Oddly, as dinner goes on, you almost forget that it’s Jake you’re with. He seems softer, gentler in a way that you hadn’t been aware existed within him, but in a way that you aren’t sure how you’re going to live without once he drops you home again and the spell is broken. In your minds eye, you realise that day to day you’ve seen glimpses of this Jake, when he’d wordlessly begun offering you a hand when you’d climb up to your jet around a year ago now, or how he’d normally complain about the amount of time everybody else took with their shots at darts, but sometimes when it was just the two of you he simply waits quietly for you to line yourself up properly, even occasionally giving you an ego-free pointer that always helped.

You wonder how often other people saw this side of Jake, and if you might be able to convince you into showing you more. For once his perpetual amusement and teasing seems to be at bay, and you’d like to think that this is the way he is in the quiet times, in the morning before his coffee, or in the grocery store. You can picture him in these times, but more importantly you want to see him in these times, more than you might have thought you would, more than out of simple curiosity.

His fingers lacing with yours after your plates are cleared makes you think once more of his talk of patience, and you wonder briefly if he wanted you to see him like this too.

“Absolutely not,” Jake quickly cuts in when you both stand by back near the entrance, reviewing the bill. The card you hold out, and the hand it’s in are engulfed suddenly by his much larger one, and even as the waiter smiles between the two of you, Jake doesn’t let you escape his grasp, holding you firmly in place as he hands his own card over.

“Jake!” you grumble, trying to pull your fist out of his, but he simply tightens his hold and gives the waiter a look like ‘can you believe this woman’.

“I’m so sorry about her, she hasn’t been taken out properly in a while, she’s forgotten all about how dates are supposed to work,” Jake tells the waiter conspiratorially, voice thick with faux-sympathy, like your cause was truly tragic. Your protests are fully silenced however, when he shoots you a pitying look, and brings your enclosed fist to his lips, kissing it softly like you were a sick puppy or something of the like.

You know he’s aware of the effect he has on you, it was why he teased you so much, but for the first time ever, you think he’s actually using it properly against you to get his way, and unfortunately, you aren’t even able to summon much annoyance about it. Quite the opposite in fact, his display makes your argument fall quiet and your heart skip several beats as he kisses your fingers tenderly again, before offering it back to you at last.

Quietly, you put your card away and bite your lip as he finishes paying.

—

“Jake,” you begin slowly, having taken most of the car ride so far to gather your thoughts together.

“Cricket,” Jake matches your tone and cadence, while shooting you an amused smile.

“Why did you hold my hand?” you try your best to ignore him, and shift slightly in your seat. Jake seems to shift too, but he only glances briefly over at you this time.

“Do you mean ‘why am I still holding your hand?’?” he squeezes your aforementioned hand, still in his grip and laying on the centre console. When he shoots you another amused grin, he’s met only with your pursed lips. Placing his gaze back toward the road, he rolls his eyes a little.

“Because I want to? I don’t know, feels kinda nice, don’t ya think?” Jake clears his throat a little, before a frown begins forming between his eyebrows and he seems to lurch. “Unless it doesn’t, in which case–” he begins to loosen his grip on you, but before you can think too much about what you’re doing, you tighten your own fingers laced through his, and give him an even more unimpressed look.

“So it does feel nice, note taken.”

You sit in silence for a few more minutes, in which time Jake begins slowly stroking his thumb across the back of your hand. When you do finally pull up to your apartment block, you feel the need to say something, but you don’t know what, so you keep quiet as Jake puts his car into park.

“Wait here,” he tells you and before you can really respond, he’s jumping out of the car and loping around to your side, opening the door with a gallant smile.

“You know, you’re a pretty good date, Jake,” you say softly, letting him take your hand once again and help you out of the car. Jake beams at you in an almost boyish manner that makes you want to squish his cheeks, but you refrain.

“Why thank you,” he says proudly, making you smile too.

You stand and stare at one another for a moment once you’re settled on your heels, and Jake cocks his head at you, before offering out his hand for you. Biting your lip slightly, you can’t help but look at your feet as you reach out and take the offered hand, feeling your chest go all warm again when he adjusts his hold to be more firm, and you both begin walking again.

Jake lets you take more of a lead, even though you know he knows where you live, considering he had been one of the friends you’d enlisted to help you move out of your old place. You can’t help but wonder if all this hand-holding was going to affect your friendship now, or what it even meant for your friendship. Your mind goes back to what Jake had said about patience at dinner, and what that meant.

Biting your lip again, you come to a stop in front of your apartment door, taking your hand back reluctantly so that you can pull your key from your purse and unlock your door.

“You aren’t going to cry again once I’m gone, are you?” Jake suddenly asks, making you blink back at him. He shoves both hands in his pockets and purses his lips. “Can’t be having that, now can we?” he says as if that explained his concern.

“No… No, I feel a lot better now,” you tell him, and you really do mean it. “Thank you for dinner.”

Jake stares at you, like he often does when he’s trying to make someone crack. Usually it worked pretty well on you, but you have nothing to crack over right now, so you simply stare back at him and shrug.

“I’m glad you feel better, Cricket. I don’t like seeing you upset.” Jake tells you, and even though his expression is humorous, his voice is stern and sincere, and it makes your stomach twist and turn violently in a way you’ve felt it attempt to do several times recently, but you’ve never let yourself linger on. It's as though all at once you can’t stop it, and an explosion of butterflies takes the place of all your internal organs.

“What was that?” Jake murmurs, and you blink at the step he takes forward, his brow furrowed in concern. You realise you’ve spoken the question that’s been on your mind out loud, and you swallow thickly as you try to gather yourself again.

“I… Earlier, you said you’ve been patient… what did that mean?” you ask, chewing the inside of your lip, wondering if you even want this question answered in the first place.

Jake cocks his head at you, and you can’t help but take note of how his lips quirk in the corners, like he thought it was adorable that you even had to ask.

“It means,” Jake begins, stepping even closer, and resting his arm on the wall above your head. “That about a year ago, I realised that I wanted to kiss you, and a year later, I still do.”

You stare up at him, and try to refrain from moving too much, as if he might disappear if you did.

“But only if you want me to,” he adds after a moment, beginning to peel back from you. Once more you don’t think too hard about what your body does, and you realise too late that your hand has shot out to rest against his chest, smoothing over his collar. Jake stops in his retreat and fixes you in his gaze again, even as your mouth opens and closes silently. You frown at your own inability to talk, and feel a pit begin to open in your stomach, sucking up the butterflies let loose there.

Jake frowns down at you, as if he can read your thoughts, and gently covers your hand with his own.

“Do you want me to?” he asks softly, and you’re glad he doesn’t make you say it, you aren’t sure you’re ready to ask yet, but you think he might understand this about you.

You nod at him and hold your breath as he seems to cock his head again. Briefly you see him smile, full and warm, but quickly you’re gasping softly as he kisses you.

Kissing Jake has been something you’ve refused to let yourself think about, repressing the thought so much that you’re truly surprised by how good he is at it. It makes sense, you think, that Jake would be a great kisser, and you’re fairly certain that you’ve never ever been kissed like this before, either. If this was what you’d been missing out on for a year, you feel foolish and idiot, because right now you vow that you will let Jake kiss you whenever he wants, wherever he wants from now on.

When at last he pulls away, you relish in the way his hand cups your cheek, thumb swiping back and forth tenderly.

“I don’t know about you, Cricket,” he says, making your chest flutter when he nuzzles at your nose sweetly. “But I think that feels kinda nice too, don’t you think?” he places another, much chaster kiss to your lips, and you can’t help but let out a soft laugh.

“Yes, Jake. I think it feels nice, too.”

@starlightstories @fox-bee926 @startrekfangirl2233 @izzyomfg @shanimallina87 @phoenix1388 @t-nd-rfoot @sehnsuchts-trunken @dagger-wren @bradshawsbitch @penwieldingdreamer @roleycoleyland @ussgallifrey just tagging some possibly interested folks!!!!

Request- I HAVE A REQUESTTT, you don’t have to write it if you don’t want to: (grumpy x sunshine with Jake); reader leaves little notes around the house as a reminder for Jake to be nice or to be careful or something like that, he never responds but one time she cooked one of his favourite dishes when he had a bad day before going to bed and she leaves a note and he responds before leaving the next day? Thank you so much💕💕💕

jake seresin x reader ≈ 1000 words masterlist

I LOVED THIS REQUEST TYSM FOR THIS

TW FOR: G-LOC, gravity-induced loss of consciousness, fear of loss, poor communication of sorts

The little habit began with a New Year’s Resolution to be more appreciative of those you love. It was a cheap purchase, that pad of Post-Its, but the notes you gave him every morning were the highlight of his day. He left too early for you to wake for more than a simple peck on the lips and an “I love you.”

Once, it was a quick sentence about how you wished he’d have a good day and you’d be waiting to see him when he got home. All day, he was so excited to see you that he forgot to be an asshole. Phoenix and Bob separately texted you their thanks.

The next, it was a smiley face and an “I love you so much,” written in all capitals and followed by too many exclamation points. The dopey smile stayed on his face for several hours, his words less aggressive and his voice softened. Again, Phoenix and Bob texted you their thanks, this time followed by Rooster.

The little tradition continued on for weeks, everyone eventually ceasing to thank you because they realized that Hangman was slowly becoming just Jake, calming down a bit, and it was getting tedious to text every day.

About six weeks later, Jake walked solemnly through the door two hours before he usually did, eyes cast down to your floorboards, and sighed heavily as he kicked off his boots. Emerging from the kitchen, you saw the way his shoulders sagged and immediately started towards him. “Jake?” You whispered, reaching a hand out to pull his chin up, the skin oddly dewey. You gasped when you saw tears streaking down his cheeks. “Oh, baby, what’s wrong?” You wrapped your arms around him.

He sobbed quietly into your shoulder, his own arms hanging limp at his sides as he bent down to reach your level.

Off-put by his lack of response, you began to pull away, but his arms shot up to hold you and he yelped a “No!” as though you’d stabbed him.

“Okay, okay, sweetie. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.” You soothed, petting his hair as his tears wet your shoulder. You pressed the bottom of your wedding ring against his neck, the familiar metal soothing him as his heaving chest turned to hiccups.

It was a few more minutes before he spoke. “I went into G-LOC today.”

You felt your body lock up and you began to shake, arms clenching tighter around him. “You made it,” you murmured, reassuring both of you.

“I did. You know G-LOC dreams— vivid. Mine was you.” He sighed, burrowing down against you, “As my plane went down and I woke up, I kept thinking I wouldn’t get to see you again.”

“I’m here. You’re here. God, I love you, Jake.”

He nodded, whispering the words back as though you’d scare away, before he pulled back and wiped his eyes. “Sorry your shirt’s all wet now.”

“Jake, you just went through G-LOC. I am more than happy to deal with a few tears on my shirt.” Taking the aforementioned shirt off and walking to toss it in the laundry room, you shouted, “Go hop in the shower, baby. I’m making fried chicken.”

He groaned his thanks loudly before lumbering up the stairs to reach your bedroom, where you assume he gathered his clothes before you heard the shower turn on.

When he emerged, hair wet and face clean of tears, you were scooping the last of the chicken onto a paper-towel covered plate wearing one of his clean shirts. You smiled at him before bending down to pull the fried potatoes out of the oven where they’d been staying warm. “You ready to eat?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around you when you set the baking tray down on the stove.

“Why did they not call me?” You asked tentatively, meeting his eyes.

“I wanted to tell you myself. The squad have known for years not to contact you unless I’m seriously hurt.”

You nodded, smiling gently. “Alright.” A few minutes passed of the two of you just holding one another in a loose hug. “Read the apron,” you giggled, knowing he knew full well what it said. With a hum and a raise of his brows, he pulled back slightly to glance down. Meeting your eyes again, he smirked and placed his lips gently against yours.

“Thank you for dinner, darlin’.” You both pulled apart, you grabbing plates from the dishwasher while he picked up napkins from the counter. As you dished up your food, you always touched somehow. Your sides, your feet, you just wanted contact. The two of you parked it on the couch, facing one another, and ate quietly, just happy to be in each others’ presence.

The night came to an early close, the stress of the day making you both want to sleep at around eight.

As per usual, when you woke around midnight to use the restroom, you left him a note.

In the morning, he woke to find a full sheet of paper.

My love,

You are the light of my life. My one and only. Today, you’ll be very safe as you recover from yesterday’s events, or I’ll make sure our good Admiral Bobby puts you on desk duty. Yes, that’s a threat. You’ll also instruct your squad to let me know as soon as something goes wrong, or I’ll do it myself. I’m making navy bean soup tonight. I love you, Jake. <3

His eyes filled with tears as he scrambled for a pencil, a smile splitting his face. When he found one, he scribbled:

I love you so much. I can’t go another day without you having proof of that every single day. I don’t think that made sense but you know me, what I’m trying to say. And yes ma’am, they’ll know as soon as I reach base. Looking forward to that soup tonight <3 <3 <3

masterlist

so it goes... ; jake "hangman" seresin

"met you in a bar, all eyes on me, your illusionist . . . all eyes on us."

so it goes . . . - taylor swift

warnings: pwp, dom/sub dynamics, begging, praise, rivals to lovers, misogyny from external characters, SA, angst, smut. very cheesy ending. not proofread. 18+ MDNI.

a/n: i honestly don't know where the plot came from this was supposed to be straight smut if i'm honest <3 there's no description of the character, I just find y/n and 2nd person extremely corny when writing

word count: 7.6k

-

It was absolutely no secret that Ivy hated Lt. Jake “Hangman” Seresin; from the moment they met and he gave her his signature “I’ll make your panties drop” smirk, she was ringing the bell on him more times than most people could count. On nights the pilots went to the Hard Deck with him, some didn’t even bring their wallets, knowing that they would be getting drunk on his dime. It never stopped him though. Their playful rivalry was seemingly never ending, but both knew that if Ivy put her foot down and told him to stop, he would, no questions asked. It started as her ignoring his advances and trying to continue serving him normally before it eventually turned into her pouring everyone else shots but him, purposefully leaving him for last then leaving Penny to serve him before going on break. After he learned her tricks and waited for Penny to go on break before approaching the bar, that’s when the bell ringing began. She was no stranger to the bell - oftentimes men would start making comments about her when she turned around, leading to the group of aviators (often led by Jake himself) to surround the man and herd him out of the bar.

The first time she rang the bell on Jake, he had leaned his elbow onto the bar, his cellphone slipping out of his jacket pocket and onto the wood. Ivy all but lunged for the bell, causing a roar of cheers to erupt around the bar. The Lieutenant rolled his eyes and placed his card on the counter; it was the first time he had ever seen her smile at him, even if it was dripping with sarcasm as she swiped the card on her kiosk, opening a tab before turning around and grabbing three bottles of tequila to begin pouring out. A few times after that, she served him without a fight, but on the night he forgot his card at the bar after picking up four shots in his hands with a “thanks, sweetcheeks,” she called out his last name. The whole bar nearly fell silent as they watched the girl yell to him that he forgot something. He slowly turned around, making sure to not spill any alcohol, only to see her fake reaching into her coat, pulling out a middle finger instead before dropping to hold his card up.

This Saturday in particular was busy - the Fourth of July festivities were in full swing, bringing people, both regulars and newcomers, from all over San Diego to the Hard Deck. Ivy and Penny were so swamped that they had to keep telling the other “I’ll go on break later, when it gets less busy.” Ivy’s UCLA shirt was wet from sweat and from the bottle of top shelf vodka she had accidentally spilled on herself while she kneeled on a barstool trying to reach them. Her hair was pulled back into a claw clip, baby hairs plastered to her forehead and neck from sweat. The AC was never able to cool down the room with the constant opening and closing of the door, the whole room heavy with humidity. Penny and her took turns “getting more ice” from the freezer which was just code for standing there with the door open to cool down.

The night officially won the award for worst shift ever when she had been flagged down by a table of newcomers as she was finishing cleaning off a table. They ordered a round of beers and vodka sodas to be delivered, handing her a heavy tip to compensate her for leaving her post at the bar. When she returned with the Miller Lites in hand the group twisted their caps off with their shirts, but the one to her right let the cap fall to the floor, making it seem like an accident. When she squatted down to pick up the trash, the one to her left landed his hand to her ass and squeezed. Ivy shot up, an angry gasp leaving her throat, and, without thinking, grabbed one of the vodka sodas off the table and threw it into his face and swung her tray into his side full force. The scrape of the chairs from all of the men getting up caught the attention of the Top Gun pilots who were engrossed in their game of dirty pool. Ivy realized her mistake in attacking a person who was about half a foot taller than her who had 4 more people for backup. She took a small step back, but bumped into a strong chest. Scared it was a 6th member of the group, she quickly turned around, instead seeing Hangman standing there, backed by Fritz, Fanboy, and Coyote, with a few others approaching. Her view of him and the other pilots didn’t last long, as she was yanked by her hair to the space behind the group of men, hitting her head on the corner of the table and falling over one of the chairs as she went down.

There were strict rules on fighting in the academy, but there was an unspoken agreement amongst the group that the tale of this fight wouldn’t make it out of the room. There were some situations that only violence could fix. So, that’s how each of the group of men ended up with their heads similarly banged up and on the gravel outside. Other than the scuffle that was happening, no one made a noise - newcomers watched, aghast, and regulars stood by on the ready. If Ivy didn’t have blood pouring into her eye from her cut, she would’ve seen said regulars standing in pairs near any exits to stop any men who dared to make a run for it from escaping.

Phoenix had her hands placed under Ivy’s arms, helping her up and to the bathroom. She helped Ivy run her head under the faucet, the clear water turning crimson as it went down the drain. After a few minutes, and with her eye flushed clean, Phoenix helped her up from her near-upside down position under the faucet to standing up, the water droplets making the blood still producing from her cut make its way down her face even faster. When she looked down at her shirt, a drop of blood fell and dotted the “i” on the BRUINS written on her shirt in gold. Phoenix helped her apply pressure to her cut while she turned to look at herself in the mirror. Her hair was nearly falling out of the clip, her shirt collar darkened still from the sweat and vodka from earlier, now accompanied by the water and blood. She was paler than usual and the brown paper towels held to her head were darkening, “When I said I wanted to get more up close and personal with medicine, this is not what I meant.”

“What better way to succeed as a premed student than to experience everything you learn about firsthand?” Natalie led her over to the stool they kept in the bar bathroom for tipsy girls to sit on while their friends did their business. Hygienic? No. But appreciated by patrons? Yes. “I should check your eyes, see if you have-” She was cut off by a knock on the door. When Phoenix asked who it was, her hands still on her friend’s shoulders to make sure she stayed upright, she received a response that Phoenix had been expecting since the sound of the fight outside had subsided.

“It’s me,” Hangman’s voice was undeniable. Ivy’s gaze shot up, looking between her friend and the door, silently begging her not to leave her. Phoenix gave her an awkward smile before standing up and unlocking the door, letting him in. He pushed past his fellow aviator, coming to a kneel on one knee in front of the stool Ivy was sitting on, putting his hand behind her neck to keep her in place as he checked her for any harm aside from the obvious.

Ivy swallowed hard, not sure what to say, opting to keep their rivalry going because she wasn’t sure how to even go about thanking him, “You did good for being the same height as them.”

Jake normally would have laughed and said something along the lines of, “It’s my ego that did the heavy lifting,” but seeing the paper towels soaked with blood had his mind far away from banter and cemented in the moment at hand.

The silence was eating at Ivy’s ears, causing more words to spill from her to keep it at bay, “At least respond to the momentarily blinded girl.”

His jaw tightened for a moment, “How the fuck are you joking right now?”

She shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze, “Come on, it’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a cut. It’s only bleeding so much because it’s on my temple. At least it’s an excuse to get me out of the rest of this God awful shift.”

“What were you thinking? Starting a fight with someone like that - he could’ve smashed a glass in your face.”

Ivy scoffed, slapping away his hands with her free one, “Oh, so I’m supposed to just let whoever waltzes into this bar grab a handful of my ass? I’ll keep that in mind for the next shift. Might show up naked.”

He let out a breath through his nose. He wasn’t positive about what happened prior to Ivy’s retaliation, but he knew it was most likely something along those lines, but hearing her confirm it just made his blood boil even more, “No! You get someone and let them take care of it, not hit them with a plastic tray.”

Ivy pulled away from him again as he applied pressure to her wound, “I’m not a fucking child. I’m going to stand up for myself. I’m not going to hide behind some man. You can’t seriously be blaming me for this!”

“That’s not what I’m saying! I’m-” He was cut off by Phoenix saying his name sharply. Her eyes met his before flickering down to Ivy, a cue for him to focus on the real problem.

He stood, pulling a few more paper towels from the dispenser. Phoenix pulled the trash can away from the door and closer to Jake, allowing him to dispose of the bloody wad before dabbing at the cut on her temple with the towels he had run under the water. It was silent as he ran his thumbs across her head and through her hair, checking how far back the cut went. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but you need to go to the ER in case you have a concussion.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa - absolutely not, Seresin. I have much bigger problems on my plate right now than a possible concussion. One of my summer classes ends next week and I have 5 more shifts after this. I’m going home and sleeping this off.” She stood up, annoyed at his belief that he could tell her what to do. When he went to protest her refusal, he found himself lunging to help balance her as she wobbled after standing. He and Phoenix each had an arm and helped her back to the seat. He looked over Ivy’s head and mouthed for Natalie to go get her a bottle of water and something to eat before handing her his truck keys for her to bring it around. She took the chance to leave the tension filled room with pleasure and almost flew out the room. From the pressure he had applied earlier, the bleeding had mostly stopped.

“After that attempt to walk, I’m taking you to the ER. If you don’t have a concussion, then I’ll take the blame. If you do, I’ll never forgive myself for letting you sleep on it. That’s final.”

Ivy rolled her eyes, “Fine. But We’re taking my car, not your ecological disaster of a vehicle.”

He helped her up and had an arm around her shoulders to keep her steady. His size dwarfed her, his large hands wrapping around her upper arms easily. “Your car’s so small that I’m going to have to drive from your backseat.”

“You seem like the type to be a backseat driver, so I guess all your training’s paid off.”

He did his best to hide her from the crowded bar, and she kept her gaze down. The night air was cooling down, the breeze from the sea sweeping across the island. Fireworks popped in the distance. Ivy dug in her pockets for her car keys, lighting up her small prius at the back of the lot. Jake knew her car, as he often was volun-told to walk her back to it after the Hard Deck closed, so he could tell something was off when he saw the interior light on. The two walked a little faster, Ivy mentally scolding herself for not checking if she had properly shut the door when she locked her work bag in the backseat. The crunch beneath their feet that sounded different from the rocks that made up the rest of the parking lot made the pair look down, Ivy taking her phone out to turn on the flashlight. It was glass. Car window glass - Ivy’s car window glass.

The sound of Phoenix calling for them in confusion made them turn around, seeing her jogging to them, his keys dangling in the air as she held them up, “I thought you guys were taking Hangman’s?”

Jake delicately thrusted her back into her friend’s arms, “We definitely are now. Take her to my truck.”

Phoenix looked confused before looking past the pair and seeing the broken window, immediately taking Ivy and leading her back towards the front of the parking lot. She opened the passenger door to the F350, helping her step in before shutting it and getting in the driver’s seat, allowing her better vantage to see anyone trying to approach.

Jake reached through the broken back window and unlocked the car, ducking his head down to be able to kneel on the seat, a few pieces of glass digging into his knee. Her backseat was strewn with clothes that were clearly from the bag that had been emptied. There was a tilt to the car, telling him that one of her tires was slashed. The contents of her glove compartment were strewn about the front seat. He circled the car, trying to find something that had identified her to the group of men - there, on the inside of her windshield, was a UCLA parking pass. He took pictures of everything, intending to get a list of everything that was missing once she was medically cleared. When he switched places with Phoenix, he threw his phone in the cup holder.

Two 400mg Ibuprofens, multiple butterfly bandages, and confirmation of a mild concussion later, Jake had opted to show her the photos on the drive back to her house after practically forcing a pair of sunglasses onto her face. She zoomed in and out of the photos, trying to identify anything that was missing. Ivy felt her face flush with embarrassment as she realized the item that was gone; she couldn’t help the burning feeling in her throat or the tears that pricked at her eyes. Her new silence made Jake glance over to the passenger seat. Her hand was quick to wipe away the tear that escaped, but was nowhere near fast enough to not be seen by him.

“What? What is it?”

“I- I, um,” She swallowed, her voice breaking every time she went to speak. “They, uh . . . they took my underwear from my bag. It’s the only thing missing.”

Ivy may have been the one with blood in her eyes, but Jake saw red in that moment. He vowed at that moment to track them down and make them regret ever making Ivy feel unsafe. The rest of the drive was silent; Ivy pulled her knees to her chest, her eyes staring vacantly out the windshield as she gave him directions. Her driveway was empty, despite the house being advertised for rent for 2 people. She’d had a roommate for the first 3 weeks of the summer, but the girl fell homesick and moved back to Maine, opting to pay the rent and be with her family than pay it and be alone. Ivy was absentmindedly picking at her nails, the polish chipping off in tiny bits of purple, when Jake pulled into her driveway. The truck was silent, save for the AC running on max. Ivy still didn’t look his way, too scared to see any pity in his eyes, “I- um, I don’t know how else to thank you than just saying it.”

His response was immediate, “Don’t.”

She reached her hand back and pulled the claw clip from her very tangled hair, allowing her to run her hands through it and give an excuse as to why she wasn’t looking at him. “No, really. You didn’t have to do any of this. And I was a dick to you when you were just trying to help. I know that I shouldn’t have done it - that I should’ve just . . . let someone else handle it or kick them out or something. But I’ve lived my whole life being afraid, being forced to ignore the way men act around women - around girls. I’ve carried pepper spray for longer than I’ve carried a house key. For fuck’s sake, I can’t get into my car without having to check the backseat with my flashlight because I’ve read too many stories about girls in this country getting murdered. I’m a bartender, and I’m too scared to drink alcohol in public because I’m afraid someone will roofie me. I just - I wanted at least one man, just one, to understand that women aren’t their toys. I wanted someone to understand there are consequences to their actions. And, well, look where it got me.” She held her hands up, “Mildly concussed and prius-less. Even with their heads knocked into tables, they still had to violate me in the most disgusting way. Touching me wasn’t enough because they felt like they were owed it. They went out of their way to find which car was mine and left everything but the one thing they knew would make me feel sick to my stomach. Hell, even now, I’m scared to be in my house. I didn’t have a key that they could’ve stolen in my car, but there’s so many ways they can break into my house. And the fact that it’s not even insane for me to think that they tracked down my house is so disheartening, because stuff like that happens all the time. It’s just - so exhausting being a woman, I wanted to be able to say I did something to protect myself. And I’m sorry for dumping this all on you, and I know you’ll never fully understand, but I need you to know I didn’t do it because I’m stupid or something. I needed to do it for me.”

Hangman was silent. Ivy expected that. If someone spilled their guts out to them like she just did to him, she also would be silent. Her thumbnail was bare at this point.

She opened the passenger side door before climbing down, giving him a small, brokenhearted smile after she took his glasses off and placed them in the cupholder. “Thanks again. Drive safe.”

She cringed at the sound of the door shutting, her brain pounding in response. Once she made it to the door, she struggled to find her house key, the limited light from the streetlamps making it hard to identify. She was too scared to use her flashlight; the nurse at the urgent care was adamant about reducing light hitting her eyes. Her struggle was stopped by a hand, making her jerk back and drop her keys, stumbling back a bit, scared it was one of the men. When she tilted her head up and saw Jake instead, her worry disappeared, but her heart was still hammering. She rested her forehead against the doorframe to catch her breath before she dropped to pick up her keys. “Jesus Christ, don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry.” Those words made her look up at him as she rose back up. They way he said it was more than just an apology for scaring her. It was an apology for everything she had confessed back in his truck, an acknowledgement that he would never understand, but he would try his best to - an apology for the way he acted towards her, even if both knew it was never really serious. A promise he would be there to back her up. He pulled her into a hug, cradling her head against his shoulder, making sure her cut was facing outward instead of against this uniform shirt. Her throat was tight once again, a few more tears escaping. She didn’t wrap her arms around him, but both knew it was because she was just too tired to do so. “Do you want me to stay? I’ll crash on the couch.”

She nodded against this chest, too scared to talk, not trusting her voice.

He took the keys from her hands, unlocking the door. He made sure to keep her behind him on the way up to her bathroom connected to her room, where they split off and he searched the rest of the house while she cleaned up; he left to get a bag of emergency clothes he kept in his backseat. Once he heard the water shut off, he made his way back to her, seeing her emerge with new bandages and a set of oversized sweats. In silence, she showed him the way to work her shower, not noticing the way he was staring at her rather than her hands.

When he left the shower, he opened the door to the sight of her asleep on top of her bedsheets. He walked over, taking the blanket that was folded at the corner of her bed for decoration and covered her with it before leaving a crack in the door and making his way downstairs.

-

The next few days passed by in a blur. Jake spent the nights he wasn’t required to stay on base crashing on Ivy’s couch - and eventually her bed. Ivy finished her summer class and got so black out drunk in her living room that she fell asleep sitting next to him, her head falling onto his shoulder. On top of driving her to and from the shifts he could, he took her back and forth between the mechanic, standing behind her with his feet planted and arms crossed, his face stoic, to ensure that the workers there wouldn’t upcharge her simply because she didn’t know any better.

The third or fourth time he had fallen asleep in her bed, he woke up when he normally did: before the sun. Even when he wasn’t required to be at the base, his sleep schedule was punctual - he couldn’t sleep in if he tried. The streetlights were still lit, but soon to disappear. The sky wasn’t pitch black anymore, more of a purple with a thin sliver of yellow very close to the horizon. He was shirtless, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He was on his back, his arm wrapped around her, pulling her onto his chest. He could hear her breathing in and out, deep in sleep despite his awakeness. Her TV was in sleep mode, the DirectTV logo bouncing around the screen from when they paused My Cousin Vinny the previous night because he made her laugh so hard she couldn’t breathe. They spent the rest of the night talking, leaving the TV paused, too engrossed in each other.

He directed his gaze down to her, taking in the light ring of yellow from the slowly disappearing bruise on her head and around her eye. The bruises across her thighs from where she fell over the chair on the way down had a little longer to go in the healing process due to their size, but they were getting there. He tightened his hold around her, making her stir before she tucked her head further against his chest.

-

Ivy was dizzy with the way he was kissing her, like he was sucking all the air out her lungs while simultaneously being the reason she was able to breathe. Every touch of their lips was euphoric and she could feel herself slowly slipping away from the present into a place that only the two of them occupied. She had never been more thankful for Maine being on the other side of the country than now. His hands were under her shirt; his calloused thumbs were rubbing her stomach while the other fingers splayed across her back. He was also keeping her hips from rolling against his from her spot on his lap. His mouth attacked her neck, leaving her gasping as she buried her hands in his hair.

“Oh, yes - Jake,” her words were almost whiny with need, her hands switching to run down his torso to the bottom of his shirt and tug. “Need you. Need you inside me.”

He leaned back against her headboard, his stupid smirk on his face again. His right hand came up to cup her chin and bring her to make eye contact with him, “Oh, sweetheart, I gotta get you ready first.”

He hadn’t even touched her and her brattiness that coaxed every conversation along was already diffusing from her, “No! No - I can take it. Please.” Without his hand to hold her in place she took her chance and rolled her hips against him, her flimsy sleep shorts allowing her friction against his clothed cock. She was willing to try anything, so the words fell from her mouth without her brain okaying them, “Please, lieutenant.”

Her grip on her chin tightened, his eyes darkening and his smirk dropped. Ivy’s heartbeat picked up as she saw his face change, but before she could react, he was flipping them over, leaving her back to the mattress and him using his forearms to hold his hover over her. Her hips bucked of their own accord at his display of strength, her thighs pressing together for friction. His gaze flickered down before using his knees to push her legs apart, keeping her from having any relief that wasn’t delivered by him.

“Say it again,” He commanded. His pupils were so blown out that the blue of his eyes was almost invisible.

“P-pleas-” A sharp smack to the side of her ass made her gasp, his hand rubbing it slowly to soothe it before coming up to push a piece of hair out her face.

“Now, sweet girl, say it like you just did. All needy-like.” 

She did as he told. He went back on his haunches, looking down at her splayed beneath him, running his fingers so lightly up the sides of her legs that she squirmed from the ticklish feeling. His fingertips ghosted under her shirt again, his eyes silently looking up to her for confirmation. She nodded quickly, helping him rid her of the shirt. His quickly followed, leaving him in nothing but his sweatpants. He groaned at the sight of her breasts; there was no reason for her to sleep in a bra, leaving her fully naked up top once her shirt was gone. He slowly ran his hands up her sides, his thumbs ghosting over her ribs before landing under her boobs. The feeling of him palming at her tits was driving Ivy crazy; her whimpers were filling the room as he leaned down to kiss and suck at them. Her back shot up in an arch when his teeth grazed her left nipple before his tongue came down to soothe the pain, repeating his actions on each breast before Ivy was practically crying from need. Her hands were grabbing onto any part of him she could reach - his hair was already a disheveled mess and his shoulders and biceps were littered with crescent moons from her nails. Both of their necks and upper chests were already starting to bruise.

“J-Jake, please. Please touch me, fuck me, anything! Or let me suck you off, I just need you so fucking bad.” He was taking pictures of her in his mind right now. She was so frazzled and the most he had done was kiss her tits. He swore that if a breeze came by she would fall over the edge.

He kissed the apples of her cheeks before looking back down at her, “I told you, I gotta get you ready for me. Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Is it as big as your fucking ego, lieutenant?” She thought maybe being bratty again would get her what she wanted. “Having a big ego doesn’t make up for dick size.”

At that, his fingertips tugged her shorts down, taking her panties with them. He didn’t give her a moment to prepare before he was diving down, her thighs on his shoulders and his hands holding her hips down, eating her out like it was his last meal. She let out a scream when his tongue circled around her clit. Her back arched and her hands flew to his hair, wrapping in his blonde. He groaned into her cunt, making her moan out his name. He pulled back, lowering one thumb to pull her pussy apart. Her wetness gleamed in the morning sun that was shining through the window, her hole clenching around nothing. He looked up to her, his tongue running across his bottom lip, “Ask me to continue.”

She threw her head back onto the pillow breathlessly, a frustrated, needy “fuck you,” coming out before she adjusted her hips as best she could with his other hand still holding her down, trying her best to give him a better view of her pussy. “Please, please, lieutenant Seresin, eat me out ‘til I cum on your face so I can be ready to take your cock. You know what’s best for my pussy.”

He definitely was not expecting that to come out of her mouth - he was expecting a “please continue,” not something that made his dick harden even more than he thought was physically possible. “You want me to continue? To help you finish?”

Her head was nodding so much she thought she was going to reconcuss herself.

“How can I deny my sweet girl when she asks so nicely?” He lifted his hand to tap on her lips which she immediately parted to suck on his fingers. She moaned around them, thinking about the possibility of them inside of her. Her dreams came true when he pulled them out, a string of spit connecting them to her mouth before it broke. Jake lowered his hand and pushed two fingers inside of her. Her gasp was loud enough to alert anyone else in the house as to what was going on had anyone been there. Her fingers grasped the sheets below her, twisting them in her fists. Her whole body shuddered when he added his mouth, leaning down to suck on her clit again. Her ears were ringing, preventing her from hearing how loud she was, but that volume was spurring Jake on more. He switched from sucking to blowing to spelling his name on her clit. When he added a third finger and curled them inside of her, she fell apart. Her vision went white, her throat almost raw with how loud she was being. Her eyes were in the back of her head. Her hands went to run through his hair to pull him off from her sensitive core, but he grabbed her wrists in his free hand, pinning them to her stomach as he continued to ride her through her orgasm before bringing her to another. Her legs were shaking, her hips bucking, thighs tightening around his ears to try and escape his mouth and fingers. After her second orgasm, he relented, pulling away at her strangled “Jake, I-I can’t.”

She looked up at him as he removed himself from between her legs, keeping eye contact with her as he slipped his fingers from her pussy and sucked her cum off of them, groaning around them. “Baby, it’s a shame I’ve never tasted your cunt before. Fucking delicious. Gonna have to deploy me to keep me away.”

Her already unbrushed hair was even crazier from the way she was writhing under him, but he found her as intriguing as ever. Her lips were plump from their kissing and her biting; her cheeks were flushed. He once again tucked a piece of hair away from her face, wrapping his hand around her neck to pull her into a kiss, his thumb rubbing against her jaw as the coldness from his dog tags made her shiver as they passed over her bare chest, leaving goosebumps in their wake and leaving her nipples hard. He smirked against her lips as he heard her gasp at the metal. He leaned back once more to slip his tags off of his chest, slipping them over her head, letting them rest in between her tits. His thumbs passed over each nipple, breathing out a “perfect” as he watched her slightly arch her back at the touch, giving him a full view of his tags sitting perfectly at home in her valley. He never wanted to be discharged from the service so badly just so he could see that everyday instead of having to take them back later.

After his few moments of admiring her, he began to kiss from her sternum down to pussy again.

“I-I don’t know if I can handle an orgasm like that again,” she admitted, making him give one last kiss under her belly button.

“Oh sweet girl, that was just the start. I told you, I was getting you ready.”

Her gaze snapped back to him, abandoning the hole they were burning into the ceiling. Jake started to slide his sweats off, showing his lack of underwear under them. When they were far enough down, his cock sprung up, finally escaping. He finished riding himself of his pants before taking her hand delicately and pulling it to her mouth. “Spit.” Once again, she did as he told without question, eyes following her own hand as she sat up. He led her hand down to wrap around his dick, her thumb and middle finger not touching as she wrapped her hand around it. She slowly began to jerk him off, rubbing her thumb over his slit to spread the precum around. He threw his head back as she worked him, “Fuck.”

“Fuck my mouth lieutenant, please.” Her mouth dropped open as she began to move forward. His hand dropped to her shoulder to stop her. She looked up at him through her lashes, making his dick twitch in her hand.

“As much as I want to fuck your mouth, the only thing I’m fucking right now is that sweet pussy of yours.”

Her eyes widened a little, her eyes flickering between his eyes and his dick that she was still slowly stroking. “I don’t  . . . I don’t think that will fit in me.”

That stupid smirk was back. He cupped her cheek, using his other hand to stop her motions on his cock and guided her down on her back. “I thought ego’s didn’t make up for dick size? Isn’t that what you said baby? But it’s okay, this pussy was made for me, of course it’ll fit.”

She nodded, trusting him, but didn’t say anything.

“Do you wanna do this? Just say the word and we stop, no questions asked.”

“Yes! Yes, yes I want this. I trust you.”

His jaw clenched at those words, determined to make this everything she wanted. It was already everything he wanted. He wasn’t expecting this, honest - the two of them just thought it’d be easier for him to stay there that night since he promised to bring her to her shift that afternoon. Never did he think it’d end with her calling him lieutenant in a way that wasn’t designed to ignore him. He wasn’t prepared for her glossy eyes that looked at him like he created the universe.

He lined himself up, his face hovering above hers as his weight rested on his left forearm. He looked at her for confirmation once more, her bottom lip between her lips as she nodded. He pushed the tip in, his head dropping to rest in her neck. He groaned into her ear as he went in, her sharp whine filling his senses as she clawed into his shoulder blades. He pushed in a little more, her nails scraping down his back. She let out a low moan paired with her cry of, “Fuck yes, Jake. Feels so good. So big. Filling me up so good.”

He couldn’t help the small laugh that came out of him despite the absolute euphoria he was feeling being in her. He ran a hand over her hair before pulling himself out of her neck where he was busying himself with giving her another bruise. “It’s not all the way in yet, baby.”

Ivy’s eyes widened again, “How much left could there possibly be?”

He responded by pushing all the way in. She swallowed hard as she felt him hit a place inside her that had never been touched before. He watched as a small bulge protruded at the bottom of her stomach. He led her hand to rest over it - once again leading her hand to feel his dick, but this time through her own body. He pulled out before slowly pushing back in, “You feel that, sweet girl? That’s me. That’s how deep I am in you. I told you, this pussy was made for me.”

After a few more thrusts of letting her feel the way he moved inside of her, once again rendering her speechless, he leaned down to capture her lips again before picking up his pace. He broke the kiss but only to lift one of her legs to rest on his shoulder, his lips pressing a kiss to the inside of her ankle. The bed posts were hitting the wall so hard her nightstands were shaking just like her legs were. Her hands were once more locked in the sheets, her eyes rolling back with every thrust. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck - yes,” she couldn’t stop the few tears that rolled down her cheeks. He was enamored with the way she looked - naked, beautiful, his tags jingling every once and a while when he gave a particularly hard thrust. He was using her leg as leverage to fuck her even harder.

“That’s it baby, come on, you’re doing so well for me. You heard? You’re my good girl.”

She let out a moaned sob that was interrupted by a particularly hard thrust, “Yes, lieutenant, wanna be y’good girl.”

He cooed at her, “Look at you, can’t even talk right cause I’m fucking you so well. If you wanna be my best girl, show me what you cumming around my cock would feel like.”

She reached her hand down to rub her clit, but he swiped her hand away, placing it back on the bulge that was protruding, pushing down on her hand so that she was pushing down on it. It was like a damn had broken, her entire body seized up, tightening every muscle as he continued to thrust home, watching her eyes disappear behind her eyelids, her mouth opened in a shattered moan of his name mixed with “yes”es and “thank you”s. He had to hold her leg to keep it from shaking off of his shoulder. The way she was squeezing him was enough for him to feel his own high approaching.

He gently let her leg down, planning to pull out and cum into his shirt that he had discarded, but Ivy clearly had different plans. Her hands grabbed her tits, massaging them together. “Make me pretty, lieutenant. Please, please, make me pretty. Wanna be covered in you.”

“Fuck, you’re gonna kill me.” But he couldn’t deny he wanted to see it too. He stroked himself a couple of times, looking at her fucked out state beneath him, her tongue out to catch anything that made it that far. With a groan as she begged him once more for his cum, he finished onto her torso. Ropes of his cum covered from her lower belly to a few drops on her tongue. Most of it landed on her tits, and by proxy, his tags. She made sure to keep eye contact with him as she lifted the metal and licked his cum off of them, humming as she did so. She dipped a finger in cum on her chest, dipping it into her mouth as she moaned around her own finger at the taste of him. “So good, lieutenant, You made me so pretty. Only you can make me pretty like this.”

He dove back in for another kiss which started heated, but eventually turned deeper, both of them trying to show the other how much they enjoyed what just happened. When she pulled away for air, he kissed the tear tracks on her cheeks and climbed off the bed, picking her up and leading her to the bathroom. He sat her on the edge of the bathtub as he started to fill it up, not trusting her legs to keep her upright while they showered. While it was filling, the sound of the running water and the intense orgasms had her in a dreamy state, her head resting on the arm he was using to keep her up. Once the water was high enough and hot enough, he helped her get in and sit down, cupping his hand to take some water, directing her to swish it and spit it out so that her mouth wasn’t a desert anymore.

“Get in,” her sleepy voice let out.

He kissed her forehead, “Gotta make sure you’re taken care of first. Come back to Earth with me, sweet girl.” He continued to coax her out of the haze she was in, bringing her back to coherent thinking.

He then cupped the hot water over her shoulders before standing and climbing in behind her. It was awkward for him due to his size, but eventually they were able to settle into a comfortable state. Jake continued to cup water over her shoulders, making sure to keep her warm, massaging her shoulders and thighs every once and a while to release any tension as he soaped her body. When he finished washing her hair, he noticed how limp she was. Looking down, he was met with her asleep figure. Sensing that was her body trying to tell him she wanted her bed, he finished washing himself before waking her up and getting her out, wrapping her in a towel and sitting her in her chair in the corner. He wrapped his own towel around his waist, stripping the sheets and having her direct him to where there was another set. He made the bed as she was cuddled up in the towel, her hair dripping beads of water down her shoulders.

Jake pulled himself back into his sweat bottoms, foregoing the shirt for now, rubbing the water out his hair with the towel before disposing of it with their clothes heap. He helped her into a standing position, grabbing a pair of underwear for her to change into, turning away as she did so.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen everything.” She let out a laugh that turned into a yawn.

He turned back once he heard the drawers close, but instead of seeing her in one of her oversized sleep shirts he was so accustomed to, he instead saw her in the white Hanes t-shirt she had nearly torn off his body earlier. He couldn’t help the way his eyes traced her figure - wet hair, no pants, his shirt, sleepy smile. She went to give his tags back, but he shook his head, “Not yet.”

“Come on,” she nodded towards the bed, getting into one side as he got into the other. He reached over and pulled her into his chest, placing a kiss on the top of her wet hair, his fingers absentmindedly scratching up and down her bicep. She listened to his heartbeat as she reached her hand out to intertwine with his fingers. “I said ‘fuck me’ not ‘ruin any man for me ever again.’”

She felt his chest rise with the laugh he let out. “Oh sweet girl, if another man who isn’t me touches you, I’ll kill him.”

She hummed a laugh, sitting up on her elbows, one eyebrow raised, “Lieutenant Seresin, is this you asking me out?”

“Though that was clear, baby,” She leaned down to kiss him before laying back onto his chest; his thumb rubbed over her arm again. “But two things.”

“Yes?”

“One: if you call me lieutenant, you can’t be upset if I try to jump your bones immediately. Two: don’t call me Seresin unless you plan on letting me call you Mrs. Seresin.”

Ivy bit her lip to stop her laugh, “Yes, sir, lieutenant Seresin.”

It's giving me enemies to lovers vibe but not really but I LOVE IT

★ | LIEUTENANT SMITTEN . JPEG

PAIRING ! jake seresin x f!reader

IN WHICH you meet lieutenant crash, burn, and disaster or how he likes to call it "your future boyfriend"

another disappointed sigh. numerous planes lined up at your hanger for repairs, or "damage control" in maverick's words. but this has got to be the worst you've seen. 

i mean, who in their right mind would accidentally get their plane wing completely destroyed. you didnt care who the pilot was. what they did to end up with this much damage is simply outrageous. 

"what the fuck were you thinking! do you know how long it'll take to fix this? MONTHS. IT WILL TAKE ME MONTHS!" 

"well in my defense i wasn't thinking. i was taught to just do," a masculine voice replied, completely unbothered. 

you were too distracted and distraught with the damage to notice the perfect ken doll leaning against it, completely amused by the gorgeous mechanic before him. 

"well then you might as well be careless with your life too!" 

finally looking back to the owner of the sweet F-18, that is now almost unrecognizable. he looked infuriatingly stunning. seriously, a reckless pilot shouldn't look this good. not that you would ever admit it. he did, after all, nearly destroy his aircraft. 

"if it's you, then id risk it all," jake grinned. 

you scoffed, "in your dreams, lieutenant." 

"YOU. seriously need to learn how to take care of such a ride. i wouldnt even let you near my car." 

"fine by me darlin', can always walk ya home," the naval pilot hummed. 

you internally groaned and rolled your eyes at his flirty persona. turning around to further inspect the almost burnt wing. jake eyed the way you delicately traced your fingers on his sweet baby. 

"lieutenant whatever your name is, i hope i never have to see you in my hanger ever again," your sweet smile contrasting the sarcastic comment. 

"it's jake, jake seresin." 

"right.. well, you'll be lieutenant disaster until you've earned my respect." quickly shifting your feet towards your tools to begin repairs. 

jake thinks he's a goner. just from your witty comebacks and cold glare, while looking insanely attractive. that's not even everything you have to offer and he'd very much like to know you. for now, he's excited to visit his pretty mechanic every week.

© maiiiwrites — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

through the storm (jake "hangman" seresin x reader

word count: ~0.7k

synposis: hangman's partner has gone mia, and he's prepared to tally whatever's weighing them down.

warnings: vague allusions to depression?

a/n: this is very barely proofread or edited. i haven't had any writing inspo and lost the singular request i got months ago, but i've also been going THROUGH IT. so this is yet another result of my self-indulgence (where hangman is taking the reins!) enjoy :D

Grey skies weren't common in California. The bright sunlight always broke between the clouds cresting overhead. Today, though, the thicket of white above turned the world monochromatic. Jake sighed as he drove, knowing it would only hinder his efforts.

He pulled into the quaint cul-de-sac and parked. One hand swept up the few bags cluttering the passenger seat floor while the other fumbled for his keys and phone. A last ditch effort was made to check his notifications, another soft sigh leaving him as only your picture filled the screen.

Jake swiftly exited his truck. His feet felt light as air trailing the way to your front door. The key you'd given him lifted to unlock it, and was promptly tossed onto the small console table.

"Babe?" he tried calling. The warm timbre of his voice rumbled down the hallway. It muffled against your shut bedroom door, not creaked open as it normally was.

The aviator stopped off in the kitchen to settle the bags and refrigerate the few items that needed it. His heavy footsteps groaned into the hardwood floors, continuing to alert you of his presence. You did nothing to warn him of your own. Jake's frown grew in further realization.

He lifted a wavering hand to the doorknob. Privacy was a value of yours, he knew; part of the reason you had insisted to keep your own place until your rental agreement was to expire. But he also knew when that same valued privacy was a cover for your hyper-independence.

Jake settled on one last warning call, a soft rapping of his knuckles against the wood. "Babe, I'm coming in now."

A thought froze him: he had no idea what he was walking into. He had seen his partner in all kinds of vocal states, overexcitement and fury and even deep despair. The sudden quiet terrified him. How could he soothe a numbness, a void?

He would have to learn on the fly, as it was. No way in hell was he going to let you down now.

Another breath and Jake crossed the threshold of your room. Fern eyes flitted over the dark space to observe its state. The curtains were drawn closed, blocking out the little amount of light the clouds permitted. Everything was in its right place and tidied away, as if you'd spent hours decluttering to try and do the same with your mind.

The only thing in disarray was your queen bed, where you laid in a comforter strewn lump in the center of the mattress. Your breaths were silent, yet rose the bedding up enough to settle the worst of Jake's fears. He shut the door behind him as to not shock you any more than he intended to. Every step he took toward you was careful, still uncertain whether you were aware of him.

Sinking down onto the bed was a gamble Jake took hesitantly. Your face was still hidden beneath the blue fabric, your hair fanning out in messy strands. "Darlin'?" His voice was barely above a hum, but it was enough. You slowly peeked your eyes above the comforter to meet his. Jake greeted you with an award-winning smile, one that always turned your insides to putty. "I've been looking all over for you, darlin'. Really know how to run your cowboy ragged."

Tears lined your eyes at his words, guilt flooding you. "I'm sorry," you croaked. Jake's face immediately fell.

He leaned down to lay at your side, facing you and reaching up to cup your cheeks. "No, no, baby; don't you apologize, okay?" It ached his heart to see you feeling so small. Your vibrancy changed the colors of his life for the better. At present, they were all muddled and shirked away from your own view. Even if Jake couldn't bring those hues back to you himself, he would do everything he could for you while you awaited their return.

Jake thumbed away the few tears that started to roll down your cheeks. "C'mere," he cooed with an arm outstretched. You shuffled towards him in your mess of blankets for him to slide beneath. One arm snaked around your torso, drowning in one of his old tees, while the other cradled your head to his chest.

"There we are," he hummed as your bodies settled into one another. Jake pressed a kiss to your forehead as he felt the damp spots soak into his shirt. "I've got ya now, darlin'. I'll always hold you through the storms." After all, they were much easier to weather together than alone.

🏷️: @avengersfan25, @roosterforme

🥹 i wanted to keep it as vague as i could so that everyone, no matter what they’re going through, could relate and feel comforted

through the storm (jake "hangman" seresin x reader

word count: ~0.7k

synposis: hangman's partner has gone mia, and he's prepared to tally whatever's weighing them down.

warnings: vague allusions to depression?

a/n: this is very barely proofread or edited. i haven't had any writing inspo and lost the singular request i got months ago, but i've also been going THROUGH IT. so this is yet another result of my self-indulgence (where hangman is taking the reins!) enjoy :D

Grey skies weren't common in California. The bright sunlight always broke between the clouds cresting overhead. Today, though, the thicket of white above turned the world monochromatic. Jake sighed as he drove, knowing it would only hinder his efforts.

He pulled into the quaint cul-de-sac and parked. One hand swept up the few bags cluttering the passenger seat floor while the other fumbled for his keys and phone. A last ditch effort was made to check his notifications, another soft sigh leaving him as only your picture filled the screen.

Jake swiftly exited his truck. His feet felt light as air trailing the way to your front door. The key you'd given him lifted to unlock it, and was promptly tossed onto the small console table.

"Babe?" he tried calling. The warm timbre of his voice rumbled down the hallway. It muffled against your shut bedroom door, not creaked open as it normally was.

The aviator stopped off in the kitchen to settle the bags and refrigerate the few items that needed it. His heavy footsteps groaned into the hardwood floors, continuing to alert you of his presence. You did nothing to warn him of your own. Jake's frown grew in further realization.

He lifted a wavering hand to the doorknob. Privacy was a value of yours, he knew; part of the reason you had insisted to keep your own place until your rental agreement was to expire. But he also knew when that same valued privacy was a cover for your hyper-independence.

Jake settled on one last warning call, a soft rapping of his knuckles against the wood. "Babe, I'm coming in now."

A thought froze him: he had no idea what he was walking into. He had seen his partner in all kinds of vocal states, overexcitement and fury and even deep despair. The sudden quiet terrified him. How could he soothe a numbness, a void?

He would have to learn on the fly, as it was. No way in hell was he going to let you down now.

Another breath and Jake crossed the threshold of your room. Fern eyes flitted over the dark space to observe its state. The curtains were drawn closed, blocking out the little amount of light the clouds permitted. Everything was in its right place and tidied away, as if you'd spent hours decluttering to try and do the same with your mind.

The only thing in disarray was your queen bed, where you laid in a comforter strewn lump in the center of the mattress. Your breaths were silent, yet rose the bedding up enough to settle the worst of Jake's fears. He shut the door behind him as to not shock you any more than he intended to. Every step he took toward you was careful, still uncertain whether you were aware of him.

Sinking down onto the bed was a gamble Jake took hesitantly. Your face was still hidden beneath the blue fabric, your hair fanning out in messy strands. "Darlin'?" His voice was barely above a hum, but it was enough. You slowly peeked your eyes above the comforter to meet his. Jake greeted you with an award-winning smile, one that always turned your insides to putty. "I've been looking all over for you, darlin'. Really know how to run your cowboy ragged."

Tears lined your eyes at his words, guilt flooding you. "I'm sorry," you croaked. Jake's face immediately fell.

He leaned down to lay at your side, facing you and reaching up to cup your cheeks. "No, no, baby; don't you apologize, okay?" It ached his heart to see you feeling so small. Your vibrancy changed the colors of his life for the better. At present, they were all muddled and shirked away from your own view. Even if Jake couldn't bring those hues back to you himself, he would do everything he could for you while you awaited their return.

Jake thumbed away the few tears that started to roll down your cheeks. "C'mere," he cooed with an arm outstretched. You shuffled towards him in your mess of blankets for him to slide beneath. One arm snaked around your torso, drowning in one of his old tees, while the other cradled your head to his chest.

"There we are," he hummed as your bodies settled into one another. Jake pressed a kiss to your forehead as he felt the damp spots soak into his shirt. "I've got ya now, darlin'. I'll always hold you through the storms." After all, they were much easier to weather together than alone.

🏷️: @avengersfan25, @roosterforme

jake, honey...

Top Gun (behind the scenes) 1/?

Before I go on a rant, heres a drawing of Monica,Glen, and Miles!! Monica was my absolute favorite to draw but I like all of them! I just think they all look slightly different ?

It was hard to do the shadows without putting to much details and making it look realistic. MILES WAS A PAIN THOUGH O H MY GOSH. I kinda wanted to make him look more blurry since it looked like he was moving when the photo was taken but I didnt want to make it look weird. If you have any criticism do tell me ! <3

Actual photo:

let me explain,I LOVE the headcanon that Jake has a sister 👏👏

Heavily recommended writer 🧎

Ereardon Masterlist

Masterlist

Jake “Hangman” Seresin

You Again [Miniseries]

It’s been five years since you last saw your childhood best friend and first love Jake Seresin. But fate, or coincidence, has you back in Jake’s life and he’s desperate not to lose you again.

Slow Burn [Full length series]

After a one night stand with Hangman disrupts the fresh start you were looking for when moving to San Diego, the unexpected pregnancy forces you and Jake learn how to live with each other and tolerate one another. As the months go by, you slowly get to know the real Jake beneath the facade he puts on, but when old flames and work obstacles threaten to topple everything, your new relationship is put to the test.

As It Was [Full length series]

When Jake Seresin calls to tell you he’s accepted a permanent position at Top Gun, you’re elated to finally be living in the same city as your best friend. But everything changes when Jake tells you his news — he has a new girlfriend, and he’s serious about her. And while you want to like her, for Jake’s sake, something about her feels wrong. Jake’s arrival in San Diego also puts you in the direct path of Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, who has set his sights on you despite being Jake’s sworn enemy. Every move Rooster makes, Jake intercepts. What game are these two playing, and why is Jake more concerned about you moving on with Rooster than he is about his own relationship?

He’d Let Her Go [One-shot]

Jake meets the love of his life in college, but after years together he realizes the best thing he can do if he really loves her is to let her go.

My Girl [Full length series]

Jake Seresin could be the answer to all of your dating woes. He’s the full package: steady job, mature, dependable, attractive to a fault. The polar opposite of every guy your age and he’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner. But there’s one roadblock: he’s a single father to four-year-old Ellie. Jake is looking for a level of commitment you’re not quite sure you’re ready to give, and he’s not willing to bring someone into his daughter’s life who isn’t there for the long haul. And even if you are stepmom material, is Jake ready to let someone back in his life while still mourning the recent loss of his late wife?

Robert “Bob” Floyd

One Night [One-shot]

You have your eyes on Bob at the Hard Deck, but have to shoot down Jake Seresin first.

Gas Station Tears [One-shot]

After your boyfriend dumps you, your car stalls out in a gas station parking lot. Luckily, Bob Floyd happens to be there to fix your car. Can he fix your heart, too?

It Was Never Him [One-shot]

You catch your boyfriend Rooster making out with a girl at the Hard Deck and only one person can comfort you in the aftermath: Bob Floyd.

What Are You Thinking? [One-shot]

Bob Floyd is a quiet man. Sometimes you have to ask him what he’s thinking just to know what wheels are turning inside of his head. He always gives you a response, until one day, years into your marriage, he turns the question on you.

Friends Don’t [Full length series]

Bob has been your best friend for almost a decade, ever since he quietly volunteered to tutor you in college. The two of you have spent years chasing each other around the globe – Bob as a WSO, you as a travel blogger. You’ve always been the anywhere-but-here girl, and he’s been your rock. But when a surprise diagnosis threatens to crumble your picture-perfect life, you’re on the first flight back to San Diego, desperate to put down roots for the first time. Will Bob finally have it in him to admit that you could be the love of his life? What will he say when he finds out the secret you’ve been skillfully hiding from him? Or worse, what if he doesn’t find out until it’s too late?

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Come Back [Full length series]

Eight years ago, Bradley Bradshaw was just a college boyfriend who broke your heart. Now, he’s back in your life after a coincidental reunion, and he’s adamant about starting up a friendship. Will it be possible to be just friends with Bradley, or is he inevitably going to end up ruining everything you’ve spent the better part of a decade rebuilding?

Too Far Gone [One-shot]

Your life changed forever the moment you fell for Bradley Bradshaw. But his life wasn’t an easy one to fit into. He had more baggage than lost and found at JFK airport. You were always one for a fixer upper. Bradley could be your ultimate passion project. But was he too far gone for you to save him?

His Best Friend’s Wedding [Two-part series]

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw has been your best friend for a decade. He’s also your fiancé’s best man. So when he shows up at your hotel room the night before your wedding, it’s just because he’s your friend, right?

Rhett Abbott

A Place Like This [Full length series]

Rhett Abbott has never met a girl like you. You’re a corporate city girl in Wabang on borrowed company time — he thinks there’s no way you would waste it on him. So when you fall for the local bull rider, you’re both a little surprised. What will it take to get Rhett to realize he can give you everything you’re looking for? And will Rhett be able to reconcile the fact that your job is literally to dismantle Wabang and break apart the only place his family has ever known?

Other writing

I ask him for stories 

Heat

Looking for FIC help! Trying to find a fic that’s a Jake Seresin x reader(?) one ! My friend read it and recommended it to me but they can’t find it anywhere so— 🧎🧎🧎

They said it was obvi a Jake x reader where the dagger squad made the reader feel a bit scared/insecure! And there’s a moment where they break down in the hospital cause Jake got in an accident ! Making the daggers feel bad!

Looking for FIC help! Trying to find a fic that’s a Jake Seresin x reader(?) one ! My friend read it and recommended it to me but they can’t find it anywhere so— 🧎🧎🧎

They said it was obvi a Jake x reader where the dagger squad made the reader feel a bit scared/insecure! And there’s a moment where they break down in the hospital cause Jake got in an accident ! Making the daggers feel bad!

THIS IS SOO GOOD!!!!

In Too Deep Masterlist

Jake Seresin becomes a Step Dad <3

Jake Seresin had sworn he was never going to be a father. He liked his life the way that it was, child-free, stress free and chaos free. Free being the key word. After falling for you, it becomes clear that Jake is in for an attitude adjustment, whether he likes it or not.

…

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

mr steal your girl x3

♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️

Boyfriends>>>

★ | LIEUTENANT SMITTEN . JPEG

PAIRING ! jake seresin x f!reader

IN WHICH you meet lieutenant crash, burn, and disaster or how he likes to call it "your future boyfriend"

another disappointed sigh. numerous planes lined up at your hanger for repairs, or "damage control" in maverick's words. but this has got to be the worst you've seen. 

i mean, who in their right mind would accidentally get their plane wing completely destroyed. you didnt care who the pilot was. what they did to end up with this much damage is simply outrageous. 

"what the fuck were you thinking! do you know how long it'll take to fix this? MONTHS. IT WILL TAKE ME MONTHS!" 

"well in my defense i wasn't thinking. i was taught to just do," a masculine voice replied, completely unbothered. 

you were too distracted and distraught with the damage to notice the perfect ken doll leaning against it, completely amused by the gorgeous mechanic before him. 

"well then you might as well be careless with your life too!" 

finally looking back to the owner of the sweet F-18, that is now almost unrecognizable. he looked infuriatingly stunning. seriously, a reckless pilot shouldn't look this good. not that you would ever admit it. he did, after all, nearly destroy his aircraft. 

"if it's you, then id risk it all," jake grinned. 

you scoffed, "in your dreams, lieutenant." 

"YOU. seriously need to learn how to take care of such a ride. i wouldnt even let you near my car." 

"fine by me darlin', can always walk ya home," the naval pilot hummed. 

you internally groaned and rolled your eyes at his flirty persona. turning around to further inspect the almost burnt wing. jake eyed the way you delicately traced your fingers on his sweet baby. 

"lieutenant whatever your name is, i hope i never have to see you in my hanger ever again," your sweet smile contrasting the sarcastic comment. 

"it's jake, jake seresin." 

"right.. well, you'll be lieutenant disaster until you've earned my respect." quickly shifting your feet towards your tools to begin repairs. 

jake thinks he's a goner. just from your witty comebacks and cold glare, while looking insanely attractive. that's not even everything you have to offer and he'd very much like to know you. for now, he's excited to visit his pretty mechanic every week.

© maiiiwrites — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The dagger squad has a new pet and Hangman's having a little nap before his next training.

Seems Mav allowed Hangman to keep that little dhole. Inspired by this one picture with Glen Powell and and a squashed dog on a sofa 😌 [for example]

Hangman, fully dressed in his khakis and his hair perfectly combed through: Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.

Rooster, running off of 15 cups of coffee, 2 minutes of sleep and rightfully looks terrible: Seresin. As I choke and die.

-The entire squad was stunned, even Bagman-