What can I say? It was hot enough to coax me back into sharing my writing online… And get me writing for a few others along the way.Profile pic from Lisa Stele’s Modern Witch Tarot. Cara, 30-something, Northern England.
Figured it was about time I did one of these, with WIP added as they're ready.
I'm Cara, 30s, based in Northern England, and Top Gun re-ignited the smut writer in me! All feedback, comments and re-blogs very much welcome. My main blog is @geekgoddess22-blog so if you get any replies from that, know it's me saying thank you!
My WIP list is here, and since I'm totally trying to test myself, feel free to send requests my way - although I can't promise when I'll get them done!
Unless otherwise stated, these are all adult works, minors please move it along and do not engage!
All works are mine and I do not give permission for anything I write - including the fics linked below - to be copied, translated or reproduced here or on any other platform.
Masterlist
Top Gun: Maverick
Jake Hangman Seresin (what can I say? He's my muse!)
Teaching You Respect
The Boss (part 2 of Teaching You Respect)
Grounded: Part 1 (fluff, angst) | Part 2 (angst, fluff) | Part 3 (angst, smut, maybe a little fluff) | Part 4 (angst, fluff) | Part 5 (smut, fluff)
Look…. To start a book… You have to make room in yourself for new characters and worlds. Do I look like I have the emotional energy for that? Do I look like I can trust like that right now? Just show me the things I already know pay good returns on my investment, except I also want to read something new so I guess they can be in a coffee shop this time.
Operation Apollo | Jake Seresin x Reader AU | Prologue
Masterlist | Next Chapter
Synopsis: After a threat is made against her life, the President’s grown up daughter gets her security tripled. Her long term detail is about to retire and needs replacing, only — she isn’t the easiest to work with. Ex-Navy and current Secret Service, Jake Seresin is devoted to being the best at everything he does. He isn’t going to let a bratty little girl cost him this job.
Warnings: age gap, power imbalance, enemies to lovers, danger and angst + eventual smut , minors dni, word count: about 4k
…
“Ex-Navy? — A pilot? — I mean… shouldn’t we be looking at someone with a little more ground experience?” Matthew frowns at the file. It’s the middle of the night, he’s sitting behind his desk still in his pyjamas, wishing that this could have waited until morning.
Wishing that he didn’t have to worry about this at all, actually.
“He’s good, Sir,” Matthew is reassured over the loudspeaker of the phone on his desk. “His last role was something similar to this. He has knowledge of what it will take and he’s good at what he does.”
Matthew rests his cheek against his fist, shaking his head softly, “He’s only thirty-four… I’d rather she had someone more experienced.”
“We were looking at candidates that will blend in with her friends a little better.” The man explains.
Matthew sighs and turns the page over. When his daughter was younger, back when Matthew was just a governor, he had told himself that he was doing all of this for you. To make you proud. To better your future. And now he’s here.
Looking through files at three in the morning because your security needs to be increased following a threat made against your life.
You were fifteen when he was elected the first time. Nineteen when he secured his second term.
He wasn’t doing it for you. He knows that. You’re a grown up now, you’re living on the other side of the country and you’re in danger because of him.
Matthew’s brows furrow as he looks over the file one more time. He swallows, nodding his head.
“Fine… sure. They’ll do. But Allen stays. At least a few more weeks.”
The man on the line pauses. Matthew knows that he’s being silently cussed out on the other end of the line but can’t bring himself to care.
Allen is your security detail and has been for the past seven years. He’s an ex-marine with over forty years of service under his belt. Only the best for Matthew’s little girl.
With all these new names coming in, it’ll be upsetting for you — you hates change and you hate having a detail. Allen’s the only one that has stuck the job in the entire seven years since Matthew was elected.
You aren’t going to like this. The least that Matthew can do to make it easier is to have Allen show your new details the ropes before he retires. He was supposed to retire last week, but Matthew just couldn’t let him — not with all of this going on.
He looks down at the file once more and flips it closed as the phone line clicks dead. He sighs tiredly and pushes up from his desk. He leaves the office and begins along the corridor. The curtains are all drawn, given the time of night, behind them sits three inches of bulletproof glasses. Every single window.
This is the place he chose to raise his family. This is the position he put them in. He opens the door to his bedroom just a crack, as to not let the light in and startle his wife. Matthew slips into bed next to her and presses his lips to her shoulder.
Martha stirs slightly and snuggles into her husband’s side. She’s used to calls in the middle of the night by now, she rarely asks at this point. If it’s important enough for her to know, he’ll tell her. Matthew lies awake at his wife’s side.
The information he holds is important. She should know. He should tell her. Their only daughter just had a serious threat made against her. She’s in danger. Matthew closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath. Telling her will just make her worry and worrying never did anyone any good.
Jake gets his orders in the middle of the night. He’s arriving in California by mid-morning. It all happens so quickly that Jake’s still thinking of how good the dinner his mother had made the night before was when he is picked up from their airport.
He was with his last family for three years. This is a big step up - people don’t usually get a chance like this when they have his kind of limited expertise. Jake’s palms sweat, and not because it’s June in Los Angeles. There’s AC blowing in his face that’s damn near chilling, but Jake still finds himself wiping the back of his hand over his brow.
“So you’re ex-navy, huh?” Manny asks. He’s part of the security team, he looks even younger than Jake does. Apparently he’s the same age. Jake has clearly had a tougher thirty-four years than this kid has.
Jake’s sitting in the passenger side of the SUV, being driven towards a house in the hills. He would rather get out and walk than answer this question, tell this story, all over again. He nods curtly.
“Yeah. For a bit before this.” Try eleven years. He enlisted the minute he was eighteen. He hadn’t ever wanted anything as badly as he had wanted to be a pilot.
Manny looks across at him and gestures to himself, “Ex-Marine.”
It isn’t surprising. Lots of vets move towards this kind of thing. Jake’s eyes land on the sign above the highway. He hasn’t been in California for four years now. Even when he was here before, he wasn’t ever anywhere like this. It’s easy enough to pretend that he’s somewhere else.
“Damn, she lives here?” Jake questions, turning the topic quickly away from their respective pasts as Manny turns the car towards a gate. He leans out of the driver’s side and types a passcode. 0000. Jake makes a mental note to get whoever set that fired.
“Mhm. The President bought it as a gift for the First Lady. Was just sitting out here empty.” Manny explains as the gate opens. He adjusts his sunglasses and the car drives on in. Jake looks around the property. He can imagine his sister’s pitch for this place already. Sprawling property in the LA hills with views and blah, blah, blah. He squints slightly.
It’s nice. It’s just not what he was expecting.
He doesn’t know exactly what he was expecting - a safe house sounds a little ridiculous when he thinks about it now - but this place doesn’t look like much of a hideout. Jake wonders if you’re aware of the seriousness of the situation. The gravity of the threat.
“Cool, right?” Manny asks as he stops the car at the top of the driveway. Jake looks across at him, and then back at the house. Jake doesn’t know much about real estate - that’s more his sister’s forte. It’s modern and covered in windows. Not the best place to keep someone who’s supposed to be hiding, he knows that much. He looks up at the house, and the way that each of its windows are all open.
Sure, there’s a fence around the perimeter, but when the passcode for the main gate is four zeroes, Jake’s already starting to doubt the efficiency of this operation. Still, he has been filled in plenty.
Allen O’Malley is running the show. He’s an expert, he has served almost ten presidential families. They talked about him in Jake’s training. Stopped two assassinations back in the nineties. Jake knows better than to come in and pretend he knows all of the ropes on the first day. He usually saves that kind of showing off for the second day.
He swings his duffel bag onto his shoulder and steps out of the car into the heat. He squints, bringing his hand up to shield his eyes as Manny grabs his other bag from the back of the car.
Jake’s features tighten slightly. Manny has the sense to stick his arm out and pass the bag to Jake. It’s a visible difference when Jake has it back in his grasp, his lips quirk up into a polite smile.
“Thanks, I got it.” Jake breathes out.
Manny gives him a nod. He has already made up his mind that Jake isn't going to last long around here if he’s touchy about small things like that. He smiles and shrugs his shoulders anyway, “No problem. But we’re a team around here, we help each other out.”
Jake follows him silently into the house. He looks around at tasteful furniture, long hallways, and hardwood floors. He lets Manny lead the way. Dining room on the right side, formal sitting room on the left. Kitchen just past the dining room, large entertaining space at the back. One bedroom downstairs.
“That’s Allen’s - he likes to be able to hear the door.”
Manny keeps walking through. He leads Jake onto a patio at the back of the house and walks over to the glass railing, leaning onto it with his palms. Jake’s brows furrow slightly as he follows Manny forwards. Sounds like a pool party, not like someone who just got a death threat.
Jake’s body tenses as he grows close enough to be able to see over the railing.
There’s Allen O’Malley. Sitting on the edge of a sun lounger with a phone pressed to his ear. He looks concerned, at least. That’s a good sign. And then there’s Apollo. The target. That’s your code name anyway.
You’re in the pool. Jake barely recognises you. You’ve been mostly out of the limelight for a couple of years now, hasn’t been in the news that much since you father’s last election. Well, not the kind of news that Jake keeps up with anyway. They usually use pictures of you as a kid when they talk about you in the news. America’s sweetheart and that kind of thing.
Jake watches as America’s sweetheart cranes her head back, opens her mouth and readily takes in a less than healthy share of rum.
There’s another girl standing by the edge of the pool pouring it into her mouth. Jake turns his head to look at Manny, frowning, “This is a joke, right?”
There are eight people around the pool, excluding you and Allen.
Jake’s jaw clenches. This is a code red situation. He was called in because this was serious. The big leagues, his chance to prove himself after — after the navy. He looks back at the pool, ignoring the r&b playlist alerting half of the hills that the princess is exactly where they thought she was.
Allen looks up and catches sight of the two young men on the patio. He mumbles something into the receiver and sets the phone down. Jake straightens up. There has to be an explanation for this shit.
“Seresin, good to finally meet ya,” Allen grins as he reaches the top of the stairs. Jake can’t help but notice the slight rattle as the man takes in a breath. He has to be nearing his mid-sixties by this point. Jake glances back towards the girl in the pool and imagines that she has probably given this guy a run for his money. “Folks in D.C. won’t shut up talking about you.”
Jake smiles. Flattery always helps Jake not want to tell someone they’re dogshit at their job. He reaches out and catches Allen’s hand, giving it a firm shake.
“You too, Sir - I’ve heard great things.”
“Come on, I’ll give you a tour of the place. We can talk,” Allen jerks his head and steps towards the front door. Jake does a double take. He has yet to stop sweating at this entire situation. He looks towards the giggling girl in the pool, then back at the man who is supposed to be protecting you.
“Shouldn’t -“ Jake wills himself to not rush into bossing his way around. He exhales. “Should she be out here on her own?”
Allen chuckles knowingly, then shakes his head. He turns towards the house, clearly expecting Jake to follow. Jake turns his neck and looks at Manny.
Manny adjusts his sunglasses, “I’ve got it.”
Jake pauses. There are eight people down by the pool. There’s one of him and he’s nowhere near you. Not close enough to intervene. This isn’t how things are done. Jake considers him lucky. His last placement showed him how things were done. He was the security detail for a congressman. The senior agents there showed him exactly how the job should be done.
Not like this.
Still, Jake has let his ego get the best of him before, and he’s still paying the price for that today. He shrugs his duffel bag closer to his body and follows after Allen.
“I’ll take you up to your room first, let you drop your stuff off.”
Jake can feel his heartbeat in his throat as he tries to keep his mouth shut. He thinks back to the Navy. To basic training. To the cocky kid who learned to shut his mouth once. He can keep it shut now.
Jake’s room is next to yours. That’s good. He feels better with that knowledge. Manny’s going to be right down the hall. Allen’s got downstairs covered. That’s good.
Jake drops his bags onto the bed.
His room has an en-suite and a shared balcony with your room. Jake pushes the sliding door open and steps out onto it. It overlooks the pool. He isn’t interested in that. His shoes are silent on the concrete ground of the balcony as he steps towards your door. His hands nudge out, fingertips grazing over the frame of the door. He brushes the locking mechanism on the outside.
Jake bites his cheek as he takes the lock between his index finger and thumb and pushes at it. It creaks. A little more pressure and he would be able to snap it clean off. He turns to find Allen leaning against the doorframe.
“Shit show, isn’t it?” He mutters.
Jake’s brows raise slightly. He knows better than to agree.
“She’s safe here, I want you to know that.” Allen explains. Jake remains stoic. Allen’s surprised at how accurate the descriptions of Jake were. He’s exactly like they said he would be. Careful. Hiding something.
“I’ve kept her safe since she was fifteen years old,” Allen announces. Jake has no idea how. He glances back down towards the pool at the sound of a scream. You look like you’re having the time of your life. You still haven’t noticed him. “We might not do it like they do in D.C. but she’s a kid, not a president. I’ll run you through it all.”
Jake sits on the chair on the balcony and listens. Allen chain smokes as he runs Jake through the rules. The rattle between each of his breaths tells Jake everything he needs to know. They did things differently in the eighties, Jake tries not to question it. Allen’s tall and foreboding enough. But his shoulders are starting to slouch and his greys take away the edge Jake knows he once had.
Even with everything he has seen so far, Jake likes Allen. Allen’s a Clint Eastwood type of guy, white lines between his wrinkles - he has plenty around his brows and the corners of his eyes. Lots of angry frowning through the years.
It’s a long story, hearing all about the years you’ve spent with Allen watching over you. Allen seems to have it down to an art.
Breakfast she’s not always awake for. You should remind her to have something. Jake frowns.
Lunch she always fixes herself. Dinner I always fix, we usually all eat together.
Jake can’t keep the sour look off of his face. He glances down at the holster on Allen’s hip, and the empty space where his gun should be. When he was put on a private jet at three o’ clock this morning, Jake hadn’t realized he was stepping into an emergency nannying position.
Another scream from behind him. He looks back. It’s nothing.
We get threats like this pretty often. That might be so, but this time they’ve chosen to increase her security - that hasn’t happened since you went off to college. Jake read your file. It’s in his bag.
She gets it. She’s kind of just saying goodbye to her friends. From tonight we’ll be implementing a curfew, house goes into lockdown after ten.
Jake’s lips quirk up in disbelief. He cannot believe what he’s hearing. Allen watches the smirk develop on Jake’s features.
“A curfew?” Jake asks it politely enough, but they both know that he’s mocking the idea. There are people actively planning to hurt you. The house should be on twenty four seven lockdown. He looks back down at the little pool party happening behind him.
“It’s what works for us.” Allen insists calmly, bringing his lighter up to the cigarette between his lips. He lights it and puffs. Jake wonders how the hell this guy passes his physicals.
Jake rests his fist against his temple and listens to the rest. He bites the inside of his cheek and realizes that Allen’s on an incredible salary for the babysitting work he has been doing. They sit upstairs on the balcony for over an hour. Allen smokes maybe five cigarettes in that time.
“So, I’ll leave you to get unpacked. I’ll sit the kid down in a bit and you two can get acquainted.”
Jake waits until he can see Allen by the side of the pool until he feels like he’s actually alone. He considers getting out now. Begging to be reassigned. Saying that it’s too painful to be back here.
He unzips his bag and stares at the contents. He can grab his stuff and start unpacking, or he can zip it back up and hightail it the hell out of here. If he leaves you with these idiots, if you die, it’s going to be all over the news. He’s going to be seeing that headline every day for the rest of his life and knowing that he did nothing to stop it.
Jake takes a deep breath and pulls his shirts from the bag. He moves about unpacking meticulously. He’s been moving around for his entire adult life now, he’s good at this kind of thing.
“Hi.”
Jake’s crouching at the bottom drawer of his dresser, folding shorts away. He turns his head, met with painted toenails and wet legs, dripping on the hardwood floor. Jake’s eyes trail up. He’s in no rush. It takes him a while to meet your eyes.
You’re leaning against his doorframe, arms folded over your chest, still wet from the pool and in a tiny bikini. The news definitely needs to update the pictures it uses.
Jake stands upright and sticks his hand out. “Jake Seresin. Good to meet you.”
You smile as you take his hand. His grip is firm and his hands are warm. You wonder what the hell your father was thinking, sending you this practical underwear model. Jake watches you look him up and down. He pushes his hands into his pockets.
“You enjoy your party?” Jake teases. Waiting to see if you apologise. If you know better. You should, your file says you’re smart. You look like any other spoiled rich bitch to Jake.
You hum and shrug your shoulders, “I’ve been to better.”
His brows raise slightly.
“We’re going out tonight. You should come, see the city.”
Jake stares at you. He hopes that this is a joke, that Allen put you up to this to test him. The look on your face tells him that it isn’t a joke.
It takes Jake a moment to answer. You know you’ve ruffled his feathers already. You cross your arms tighter over your chest. You turn away from him. Knowing that he will follow. Also knowing that the back of the bikini is just as nice to look at as the front.
“You heard what Allen said,” Jake shakes his head as he follows you along the hallway. He glances down and notices the movement of your hips. There’s no way in hell that you aren’t doing that on purpose. Sticking your ass out, swaying your hips side to side slightly with each step. Droplets of water on the small of your back, still wet from the pool. Jake ignores you. “You can’t go out right now.”
You stop walking and round on him abruptly. Most of the other guys would have run right into you with the speed that you just stopped, but Jake stops about a foot away. Quick reflexes. Your lips quirk up and then you’re looking up at him sweetly.
“Look, Jack-“
“Jake.” He corrects you firmly.
It’s like a tennis match. You testing him. Him biting back. You’re pleased enough with his reaction. You were waiting to see if he was that type. A lot of the time, staff are too worried about being disrespectful to correct you. Not him. He isn’t as pliant as most.
“Jake,” You correct yourself, smiling. His poker face is almost as good as his reflexes. You take one step closer to him, he lets it happen and doesn’t show any sign of weakness. Not one crack. Cool as ever. “I’ve been playing this game for a very long time.”
Jake watches you. His brows raise slightly as he waits for you to finish your little speech. He isn’t going to be swayed by a skimpy bikini on his first day. Although he has to admit, he hadn’t been expecting to see so much of the president’s daughter so soon - you’re always dressed pretty conservatively in the magazines.
His eyes don’t falter, locked on yours. What a professional.
“This kind of thing happens all the time,” Your shoulders rise and fall in a soft shrug, Jake notices the way your breasts move with them in his peripheral. His eyes remain locked on yours. He has seen plenty of tits in his life time, and great as they all were - not one pair was worth pissing off the president for. You tilt your head. “Eleven times in seven years, actually. I’m still alive. So, if you need me, I’ll be at the Chateu.”
Jake crosses his arms in front of his hips, holding onto his wrist. He watches you turn away from him and walk over to your closet.
“Are you saying you break your curfew on purpose?” He’s still calm as he asks. Well, calm on the outside. Internally, he’s cursing the shit show that he knows he has just been thrown into the middle of. The moment you disappear into the closet, he closes his eyes and grits his teeth.
Jake was told that Allen was good at his job. That he was just about the only one who had gotten you to behave. Now, Jake realizes, he hadn’t ever gotten you to settle down - he had just taught you how to do it under the radar.
“You know that that curfew’s in place to keep you alive, right?” Jake asks.
Your fingers curl around the doorframe of the closet, you pull forwards just enough to peek your head out. Jake notices the lack of fabric around your neck and realizes that you’re topless but just about hidden.
You grin at him.
“What are you gonna do? - Tell my Daddy on me?”
Allen stands at the kitchen island downstairs with fresh parsley in his hands. He makes eye contact with Manny across the counter. They listen to the sound of raised voices upstairs.
“Fuck.” Manny sighs as he closes the lid to his laptop. Allen grins at him across the counter, dropping the herb onto the chopping board and rubbing his hands together.
“Cough up. You owe me twenty.” Allen chuckles.
Manny shakes his head as he digs into his pocket for his wallet. He really thought that this new guy was going to last longer. He checks the time on his watch before handing Allen a twenty dollar bill.
Under three hours. That’s got to be a record.
There’s arguing for about six minutes before it stops abruptly. Jake comes walking down the stairs about two minutes after that. Manny and Allen pretend not to know that Jake just got himself fired.
“What happened?” Allen asks gently, not looking up from preparing dinner. He hopes that Jake didn’t get too much unpacking done.
Jake shakes his head as he moves to join the two of them at the kitchen island.
“That girl needed a reality check.” Jake explains. Manny presses a hand over his mouth. Jake’s oblivious. “I just told her how it’s going to be from now on. The rules around here have to change — we aren’t her babysitters.”
Manny and Allen nod along silently.
Jake feels confident in what he said. You needed to be set straight, he did that. He’s confident that if you follow his rules, the two of you will get along just fine. Allen’s counting down the minutes.
It’s sixteen minutes before a hidden number is flashing up on Jake’s homescreen, his phone buzzing with each ring. Jake’s brows furrow slightly as he picks up, pressing the phone to his ear.
“Jacob Seresin?”
“Speaking.” Jake answers calmly.
“Please hold for the President.”
Jake’s eyes widen. He glances across at Allen. There’s no way you just told your Dad on him for being mean to you.
Summary: After an injury leaves pilot reader (callsign Ariel) grounded, you have to travel cross-country with your nemesis Jake Hangman Seresin. But as you finally reach your destination you have to admit that maybe “nemesis” had aways been a bit of a stretch…
4.4k words
Author notes: I’m sorry for the long wait cliffhanger on this one. As you may have seen, I’ve had some bad news this past week, and just getting online has been a struggle. So now Ariel and Jake’s story is complete I’m going to take a week or so offline while I try to get my head together. In the meantime, please forgive me if this final part of the story isn’t proofread as well as usual – my brain isn’t working. And thank you as always for all of your wonderful comments and reblogs – and thank you for simply being here and reading.
Warnings: MINORS, DO NOT ENGAGE! Smut (unprotected p in v, oral – m receiving, dirty talk, a little choking if you squint), a little angst, sickeningly fluffy Ariel and Hangman.
His face was a picture of uncertainty, and suddenly you realised what he’d meant the night before, about your night together being different to any sex he’d had before.
“If you want to come in, I’d like that.” You laughed softly “That’s underselling it. But if you don’t it’s ok, we don’t need to rush into anything. We’ve been waiting this long, what’s a little longer?”
He cupped your jaw in his large, rough hand, thick fingers stroking your chin as he breathed raggedly. “That’s exactly what scares me. With you I want to rush into everything.” He leaned in to touch his lips gently to yours. “Let’s go to bed.”
Unlike the previous night, there was no frenzied tearing at one another’s clothes. Instead you walked steadily to the bed, pausing en route to grab bottles of water before standing face to face as you undressed yourselves - a gesture that was somehow more intimate than anything you could have done to one another. You watched in fascination the way that Jake’s always steady fingers shook just once as he began to undo the small buttons on his shirt and shrugged the fabric off his shoulders; found your mouth watering as he set to work on the button-down fly of his jeans and dragged the denim down his thick, muscular thighs. When he reached his underwear - tight, black and bursting with hard, hot flesh, your core tightened.
“Can I, when we’re ready, please?”
He nodded, teeth imprinting on his lower lip.
He had taken in every second of your own undressing, eyes soft as your dress had fallen from your body to pool at your feet, then hardening again when you slid the straps of your bra down your arms and unhooked the clasp to allow your breasts to fall free. And though part of you expected him to return the request when you reached your panties, there was no such pause. Instead his eyes rose to yours, burning into you as you slid the damp fabric down your legs before kicking them off on the floor.
When he stepped to you and pressed a hand against the small of your back, you were struck by his closeness, his bareness, and by how it felt to be stood together and pressed against one another as though your flesh was magnetised.
And, you thought fleetingly, maybe it always had been. Maybe everything until now had simply been fighting the way things were always meant to be.
Slowly, gently, he led you back and supported you to lie onto the bed, moving to cover you as your hands explored every part of one another while your lips simply moved and breathed together with a hesitant softness that was somehow sexier than anything the previous night.
Earlier that day you’d told him you wanted him, Jake. And here he was, no trace of the arrogant Hangman on show, and none of the tension you’d come to associate with his family lineage visible as he moved against you.
As his hand moved between your thighs you paused, retreating just enough to see his face and shake your head. “My turn tonight Jake. You asked me what I wanted to know, so tell me. What’ll make you feel good?”
He said nothing, but when your mouth moved to nip at his earlobe, you heard him groan softly, and when your nails scraped softly down his front until your palms moved against him through his boxer shorts, you felt him shiver.
“Touch me y/n.”
“How? What do you want?
“You. Please.”
Mouth too dry to respond, you simply nodded as he lifted to allow you to slowly tug down his underwear, chewing on your lip as you moved inch by inch to take in all that was revealed and relishing the way the powerful Jake Seresin simply laid back and allowed you to take charge in this most simple but intimate of actions. It was only when the fabric reached his ankles that Jake took over, kicking the shorts off until you were both entirely naked.
You moved back up to nip at his lips gently with your teeth and nudged him onto his side to face you. Pupils blown, he watched your hand - small and delicate when gripping his fully grown erection - move up and down him, your thumb moving over his tip to swipe off the jewel of wetness that had gathered there. You moved in firm, steady strokes while your tongue began to dance down his neck and you answered his groans with whispered praises as you licked and kissed every inch of skin you could reach before sucking each of his nipples in turn into your mouth.
Gazing down at you, he moved a hand to your cheek, but you only turned your head and took his finger into your mouth, maintaining eye contact as you sucked it onto the back of your tongue and felt him hiss.
When your mouth finally made its way through the light trail of golden hair, you paused to watch him, gauging his reactions as you stroked his balls and drew your fingers over the veins of his cock. And when you spoke again, your voice was hoarse.
“I want you in my mouth.” But as you shifted, your knee twinged and you heard yourself gasp.
Jake’s hands came straight to your hair. “Y/n, you don’t have to-.”
You shook your head and paused consideringly. “No, I want to. I just might need us to, err, shift a little. Ok?”
The two of you manoeuvred yourselves - him with typical grace and ease, you with a much less sexy shuffle than you would have liked - until you lay on your side, head on a pillow, with him kneeling in front of you.
“Are you sure about this? Is it, OK?”
Snaking out your tongue to touch the very tip of his cock, you shot him a cheeky grin.
“For tonight you get to have me underneath you. That won’t always be the case, so maybe you should make the most of it.”
He laughed and stroked a hand over your hair. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“Oh Jake, you have no idea,” you murmured, running a single fingertip all the way up his length until he shivered.
When his eyes were closed you followed your finger with your tongue and then took him all the way down your throat.
The sound that left his mouth was part groan, part grunt, all lust, as his hands braced on your shoulder, gripping with a restraint that made you moan even as your tongue danced along him.
You moved back, playing gently with his balls as you planted wet, open-mouthed kisses along the whole of his length. When he hissed your name you moved back into position, licking playfully at his tip before whispering your instruction to him.
“Fuck my mouth Jake.”
You heard him gasp softly as the tip of your tongue moved against the soft ridge beneath him.
“Y/n...”
“Fuck. My mouth.” You told him again, scratching your nails against his thighs.
This time there was no hesitation as he thrust himself into you. Right way up it might’ve been too much; he was big enough to make your jaw ache at best. But with your head at a different angle, he slid down your throat in a way that had the famous Hangman whimpering in what might have been the hottest noise you’d ever heard.
He rocked back and forward, alternating the depth of his movements while one hand came to your breast, flicking rhythmically against your nipple, as the other moved to your throat, not quite gripping but touching in just the right place to make your core clench all over again. You moaned and squeezed your legs together to create some friction.
“Want me to take care of you?”
You shook your head, and only carried on sucking him with a vigour, nails digging into his thighs now as you pushed your head forward to take him deeper still as a steady stream of praises left his lips.
It was only a few minutes later when he suddenly pulled back, his cock leaving your mouth with a gentle pop and his hand moving to your cheek as he clambered down next to you on the bed.
“I wasn’t finished,” you pouted as his lips moved against your neck.
“Y/n, if you hadn’t stopped I would’ve been finished. And I need to be inside your pussy.”
“Now.” You told him.
“I’ve barely touched you,” he argued, teeth grazing against your neck and fingers pressing into your wetness until you moaned.
“You don’t need to, this is enough.” Catching your breath, you raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you a tits or an ass man?” When he looked confused you continued. “You still haven’t told me what you like, and I want to know.”
Pursing his lips into a bemused grin, Jake dragged a finger between your tits. “How’s a man meant to choose Princess, when you have these beautiful tits,” he moved a hand round to grip the meat of your butt cheek. “And this incredible ass?”
“Believe me, you can have both. But if you want to be inside me tonight then you need to decide which you want your hands on while you do it?”
He hissed out a curse and shook his head at you. “I want every part of you. But tonight I want to see your face,” He paused with a grin, “so tonight we’ll say tits.”
For all of the awkwardness you’d found in moving yourself around, it turned out that good old missionary position was the most comfortable position you could get into, Jake gathering pillows to place under your knees and hips before he positioned himself above you.
“Shall I get a-?”
“Jake. I want to feel you inside of me.”
Was it possible to physically explode from lust? Because when you saw it - the moment that final wall toppled and he began to move his unsheathed tip between your folds - you decided it was impossible to be this horny and still stay in one piece.
“Anything hurts, you say the word, ok?”
You moved close enough that his breath was your own. “Now Jake, please.”
And then there were no barriers at all you and he was moving; anchoring himself inside you over and over again as his movements against the spongey area within you had your nails digging into his back. And when he shifted his weight to one perfectly sculpted arm and moved a thumb to your clit, you lost the ability to do anything but sob out single syllable words. “Jake. Yes. God. More. Fuck.” It was a constant cycle, your brain too full of lust to say any more, your body to full of him to feel anything else, and the swelling in your core matched only by that in your chest as the two of you moved and expanded together.
His eyes were on yours throughout it all, never looking away, the deep green penetrating into you like a challenge you couldn’t resist that kept you staring back even as your head begged to be thrown back and your eyes longed to squeeze shut.
But you couldn’t look away, found his eyes brought as much pleasure as his hands and his cock, and only found yourself tugging at him, digging your nails into the golden hair on his head as your breaths became heavier, louder and he matched you, thrust for thrust and gasp for gasp.
“Are you there?” He asked, at the exact moment your knees went weak, and you felt yourself take to the air as you soared towards your peak.
“So close. Together. Now. Inside me.”
He moaned out a noise that was almost a roar and crushed his mouth against yours as his hips snapped hard into you again, again, again, until you couldn’t take another and all you knew was the pulsing in your core matched by the sensation of him exploding within you, coating your walls over and over again.
With a final thrust, he pressed his open lips against yours, both of you too weak and breathless to worry about technique, before laying his head beneath your breasts.
You lay for what seemed like hours, breaths rising and falling together as you stroked your fingers through Jake’s hair. You would’ve stayed there all night, maybe even forever, had it not been for the stabbing cramp that started up in your healthy leg and had you shoving him gently up with a grunt.
Though he rolled away, Jake’s eyes were still on you as you flexed your leg, his smile clouded by a hint of uncertainty until you looked to him and grinned.
“So I’m guessing that was a definite turn up for the books right?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll say. That was, yeah…”
“Fucking incredible are the words you’re looking for Cowboy. Fucking. Incredible.”
He grinned, and then looked down to where your combined juices were now leaking onto the pillow beneath you. “Should I get something to clean up?”
You looked down. “That would be good, thank you.”
When he came back a moment later, confusion etched on his face and a roll of toilet paper and a small towel in his hands, you raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve never had to do this before,” he explained. “I’ve always used condoms.”
“Always?!” You took both from him and began to clean up yourself and the surrounding pillow.
“Sweets, did you miss the part where I told you I was terrified of getting too close? Unplanned pregnancy is not something I ever wanted to worry about.”
“Not after what happened to Elaine and that terrible pilot.” You teased in mock scandal, and though it took him a moment, he eventually gave you a wide-eyed nod that was only half joking. “Well I’m honoured,” you murmured as you pulled yourself into a sitting position on the towel and moved close enough to kiss him. “Imagine popping Jake Seresin’s bareback cherry.”
He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, and grinned as he pulled back just enough to look in your eyes. “And you said I was arrogant.”
“Oh Jake, I learned from the best there is.” You declared with a wink, something that might have been sexy and sassy had you not chosen that moment to stand on wobbly knees and attempt to make it all the way to the bathroom without dripping on the carpet.
“Do you need-.”
“Don’t offer to help me in the bathroom Jake,” you laughed. “And no texting your mom while I’m in here!”
You heard the groan and a thud as he fell back against the pillows. “Don’t talk about my mom when we’re naked!”
When you returned, he was lying on the bed but had obviously gotten up to pull back the covers. He was still naked, and you wondered for s moment whether that was choice or circumstance.
“Do you need to go back to your room?” You asked, as you moved slowly into the bed.
He raised an eyebrow. “You want me to go?”
“Of course not. I just wonder if you need… well, anything before morning?”
He shrugged and pulled the cover over you both as you lay down next to him. “I could… toothbrush, phone charger. But honestly?” He reached under the covers and gently tugged your leg on top of his. “I don’t want to move. As long as you’re ok with me sleeping naked?”
Grinning, you trailed a finger down his perfect chest. “However will I cope?”
The laugh descended into silence and Jake moved slightly, rolling onto his side to face you and lifted your hand out from under the covers as he interwove your fingers together and fixed his emerald gaze on where your skin met.
“It’s a lot of pressure, carrying the legacy of the Seresin family and all that shit. I know people think I’m arrogant,” when you snorted softly he only smiled and squeezed your hand. “But I have to be. Have to big up every achievement I make because nothing I really do will ever be good enough for my dad. He was admiral by 35.”
“That’s a lot.”
“It is. I sometimes feel like I’ve already failed, whatever happens I’m just running to catch up. Then there’s my mom.” He sighed. “Unless I’m saving the world single handed - hell, maybe even if I were - she thinks I should have a whole gang of kids by now, pretty wife at home keeping everything on track.” He shrugged, “which is ridiculous - that’s not the relationship I’d want. But it’s what they had.”
Your free hand moved up to his face, fingers moving through the rough beard as his eyes rose to meet yours. “What do you want Jake?”
“You asked me that already.”
“But today maybe you trust me enough to answer.”
Jake took a deep breath, eyes steeled on yours. “I’d like to be an admiral - as long as I still get to fly I’ll go as high as they’ll let me, but the flying is what matters. And I’d love to teach; never thought I would, but every time I do, it reminds me how incredible our work is, you know?”
“I want to get married. But not just to some quiet, pretty woman who stays home and goes out for lunch every day with the girls. There’s nothing wrong with those women, or the guys who marry them - great for them, but I want someone who keeps me on my toes you know? Tells me when I’m being an ass.”
You snorted and he only quirked his lips.
“And lives the life she wants too. There’s so much adventure out there if you’re not afraid to find it. I want someone to live that with, who gets that every bit of life can be an adventure. I’d like maybe three kids? Couple of dogs, maybe a cat. A good patch of land somewhere where the kids can run off all that energy kids have, just like we used to. And I want,” he sighed, and you stiffened as you saw the glittering in his eyes. “Fuck y/n I want this. Being able to lie in bed and talk about the world, to feel like I don’t need to do anything - to be anything except for myself. I didn’t think I would ever have that part, could ever have that.” His voice trembled slightly and you stroked his face. “I’m so scared of doing it wrong. I worry it’s not just my dad I won’t be enough for but that when the time comes I’ll be a terrible husband, a terrible father.”
You brushed a kiss over his lips and stared into his eyes. “Jake, everyone worries about those things. My dad told me he broke down in a public bathroom the day my mom told him she was pregnant. I’m pretty sure it’s the people who don’t worry who have something to worry about.”
“I doubt my dad has ever worried about fatherhood in his life.”
Shifting, you laid your head against his chest, “Bullshit. I bet he worried when your sister was hanging out with navy boys on air bases,” you declared, rewarded when his chest rumbled beneath you with a laugh.
“Jake?”
“Yeah?”
“How come it’s OK to talk about your dad while we’re naked, but not your mom?”
“Why would you do that?”
You bit back the smile, knowing you’d shifted his emotional discomfort. “What?! It’s a valid question.”
“Why would you make this weird? Why?”
You were still laughing when he spoke again. “I bet your dad’s not an ass though, right? I’m Hangman, y/n, I’m really good at being an asshole. What if that never changes?”
“Oh you’re very good at being an asshole,” You laughed softly, “but you’re also an incredible man Jake Seresin. You’re a brilliant pilot for sure, but you’re also a pretty fantastic man, and I don’t think you could ever disappoint anyone who loved you.”
When you felt his chest catch and tremble, you stroked his back gently, and gave him a moment before speaking again. “So where would it be? Your patch of land for the kids to run around on?”
Jake sighed and shifted, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he intertwined his feet with your own and began to speak, painting a perfect picture of the family home he dreamed of - one that bore more than a few similarities to the home you had imagined for your own future.
You swapped details, hopes and plans for the future, and kept talking until the spaces between your words grew longer and softer, and the two of you drifted off to sleep in a tangle of limbs and whispered dreams.
_______
Waking up next to Jake was no longer a surprise. Waking up to find his green eyes fixed on you though, a soft smile on his face? That wasn’t something you’d experienced before.
“Watching me sleep Cowboy?” You murmured, voice heavy with sleep.
He ran a hand over your hair and grinned, “trying to figure out what you were dreaming about to be talking the way you were.”
You swatted a hand against his chest good-naturedly, but he only caught it, using it as leverage to pull you closer and press his lips against yours for a deep kiss.
There was something deliciously decadent about lying together and simply kissing one another - long, slow and comfortable - after days of feeling unsure what was going on between you; and when his tongue moved against yours and you began to make out like teenagers, you found every cell of your being humming with a blend of excitement and satisfaction you swore you had never felt before. You allowed yourself to get lost in the sensation of kissing him, in the gentle movement of his hands in your hair and the heat of his skin next to yours, with no thought for the clock or anything that may lie in the day ahead. You stayed that way for what seemed like hours, stroking, touching and only deepening your attention on one another as the day wore on.
if you got on the road later than he’d been planning, Jake didn’t complain; and it was likely no one else would either - not when you both headed off on the road with the kind of expressions that let everyone in a five-mile radius know exactly how you’d spent your morning, and would undoubtedly be spending many mornings to come.
For now though, the pair of you had at least a week in separate rooms of a navy base to contend with; a base you drove to in contented silence while soft rock played on the stereo and Jake’s hand rested on yours upon his thigh, the two of you exchanging occasional glances that brought a flush to your cheeks and a warmth to your core.
When you arrived at Whiting Fields you were met by a harried looking admiral who was only too keen to hurry you into the admiral’s office where you could get your orders for the coming days. You were escorted rapidly to a training room with barely time for even the most professional goodbye to Jake, but didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on yours as you gave the quickest of glances in his direction. Nor did you miss the fact he’d saved you a seat when time for dinner finally arrived - the seat next to his no less where he was able to gently brush your arm with his each time he reached for his drink in a way that left a soft, warm buzz on your skin long after dinner had finished and you’d returned to the single room that had been set aside for you on base.
You were just planning to settle in for the night when there was a gentle tap at the door in a rhythm you recognised only too well. Moving across the room with more way more ease than you’d felt at the start of the week, you opened the door and felt your breath catch when you saw him there; broad shoulders, confident stance and perfect uniform of Hangman but that gorgeous wide-open face that was purely Jake. Your Jake.
“Well hello lieutenant,” you murmured softly, leaning against the door jam. “What can I do for you?”
“I heard you might need a comfort blanket to get you through the night?” Though the grin that pulled at the edge of those perfect lips held a hint of cockiness, the eyes were filled with a hope that made your heart swell, even as you glanced back to the bed and shrugged.
“You know, these Navy issue blankets are pretty heavy, I might just be OK tonight.” You didn’t have to look at him to know he’d be disappointed, and maybe even a little confused before you finished your sentence. “But actually, there is something you could help me with.”
You let him into the room, and when he closed the door gently behind him, you stepped close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your skin and flicked your eyes down his broad chest.
“What’s that Princess?” He asked, voice soft and thick with lust.
“It struck me earlier that I’ve had sex with Jake Seresin - well, a few times now, and it’s been great. But you know who I haven’t slept with?” He raised an eyebrow, but it only caused you to bite your lower lip before you spoke, “the famous Hangman – I’m told he’s the best there is.” You took another step closer until your body was pressed tightly to his.
Eyebrow still cocked; Jake let out a quick laugh even as he began to harden against you.
“Oh sweets, I’m not sure you’re ready for that?”
Fisting a hand in his shirt, you pulled him impossibly close and stared into his eyes as you flicked out your tongue to trace his lips.
“Now Jake, don’t make me remind you of all the ways I can more than handle you,” you began to run a nail down his rock-hard chest. “In the air, in the training room, in bed.” This time you licked your own lips. “Fuck me Hangman.”
It’s been so lovely to see reblogs and comments on my writing - especially Grounded - while I’ve been in my cave recently. And these ones from @justalonelyslytherin over the past few days have been just lush! Thank you, I’m so glad you enjoyed it ❤️
Summary: Jake has good reason to hate the holidays. But on their first solo Christmas together, Bradley is determined to change that. But has he gone too far, or can he open Jake up to some traditions of their own?
3.6k words
Author notes: Here's my first entry for Dicked Down December, which comes with a big thank you to the lovely @dickeddowndecember both for getting me writing again and for being so damned patient and understanding when my head was not in the game! You're wonderful Izzy, thank you ❤️ This is my first time writing slash in a looong time so please go gently. And it goes without saying that minors, this is NOT for you.
Warnings: So much smut, so much fluff, and some angst for good measure! M/M sex, anal sex, blow jobs, hand jobs, tears, a little spit play
New Traditions
Closing the oven door, Bradley swiped a flour-covered hand across his forehead and stepped back to survey the scene.
Cookies baking according to his mother’s old recipe, decorations placed – tastefully he thought – in every room of the house, and Christmas tunes playing softly from the speaker system. It would be their first Christmas alone together and Bradley was determined to make it perfect – especially since Christmas Eve would be Jake’s first night home in almost a month.
Walking from room to room with his keen eyes trained on the details he knew Jake would never miss, Bradley satisfied himself that everything was in place before heading upstairs to shower and dress in the Hawaiian patterned pjs he’d purchased himself earlier that month. He’d thought about buying them a matching set – what could be cuter than Christmas his & his pjs?! Then he’d seen these – a design that reminded him so much of his father it made him want to burst – and hadn’t been able to resist, despite knowing that Jake would rather be caught without a parachute at 2,000 feet than put anything with a surfing Santa onto that gorgeous body. Begrudgingly he’d bought a second, less cheerful set in plain red which now sat on his boyfriend’s side of the fir green bedding, waiting to surprise him when he came home.
As if on command, a car door slammed outside and Bradley glanced up, cursing himself that he hadn’t made time to light a fire or the many candles placed around the living room before Jake arrived. He did have time though to pause and glance out of the window, appreciating the broad shoulders as they hoisted a pack out of the trunk, and the way his sharp jaw set as the last of the Californian winter sunlight glanced off Jake’s aviators. There was no denying it was enough to make a man drool.
Grabbing a Santa hat from the dresser, Bradley raced downstairs, taking them two at a time so he was already leaning on the door frame to the hallway by the time the front door opened, and Jake stepped inside, all graceful long limbs and sharp, strong features. His eyes went first to Bradley, as they always did – one of the things that had first made Bradley wonder if maybe his feelings for the other pilot were reciprocated after all – but then quickly darted away to the garlands and lights that hung from each wall.
“What, did Santa vomit in here?”
Bradley went to laugh, but when Jake’s eyes snapped back to him with the hard-edged glint he remembered from their early meetings, the laugh dropped away. “It’s our first solo Christmas Eve, I thought we should celebrate.”
Whole body tense, Jake’s lips bared moved as he replied. “You know how I feel about Christmas.”
“I do, but things are different now. We can make our own traditions.” Stepping forward he reached out a hand, but Jake only stepped back and out of his reach.
“Yeah great, I’ve been away for a month and the first thing I come home to is some Christmas tradition bullshit and a house full of sparkly shit. Great, thanks Rooster.”
Rooster flushed. “OK, the decorations might be a little much but come on Jake, it’s Christmas… I’m not going to spend the rest of my life drinking beer and eating Chinese food for the holidays.”
The other man laughed, but it wasn’t the sound Bradley had missed over recent weeks. “Of course you aren’t. Because what I want doesn’t matter right? Sounds about right.”
“Hold on there Cowboy, it’s not like I’ve signed us up for carols and sleigh rides. There’s just movies, a tree,” in the next room the oven began to chirp. “And cookies.”
Jake raised an eyebrow and for a moment Bradley thought he’d won him over, but it was only a split second until the steely mask was back. “Oh great, he’s been baking. Welcome home Jakey, how’s about some food poisoning for Christmas?”
Folding his arms across his chest, Bradley raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Jake only laughed again and pursed his lips as he pushed past his boyfriend and headed upstairs. “Well thanks for the offer slugger, but I might just head up for a shower and leave you to your shitty Christmas cookies.”
As he strode up the stairs, he heard Bradley’s quiet response behind him. “They’re chocolate chip, and they’re my mom’s recipe.”
Any spark of genuine rage that had been burning within Jake Seresin fizzled out at the sound of his fiancé’s voice and he silently cursed himself for being such a douche. Christmas had been a bone of contention ever since the two of them had gotten together; the holidays had been a big deal in the Bradshaw house and held so many of Bradley’s happiest memories. And if Jake really thought about it, there were vaguely memories of joy and laughter tucked away in his brain too. But they were deeply buried behind those of shouting and fear, and of the year his dad had determinedly told him that no son of his would bring a boyfriend home for Christmas, even as his mother had sobbed silently next to him.
As he showered he thought about his and Bradley’s first two Christmases together; days spent surrounded by the dagger squad in a bubble of laughter, games, Chinese food and whisky, loud enough that he could’ve forgotten it was even Christmas, had it not been for Bradley’s determination to wear the wildest Christmas sweater possible and gather everyone else round the piano for a rousing rendition of Santa Claus is Coming to Town before Secret Santa began.
He sighed and towelled off as he padded back to the bedroom and spotted the soft silk pyjamas lying on his pillow.
*************
The decorations, the cookies, even just the expectations – Bradley knew it had been a lot, and maybe too much. But it was Christmas dammit, and they couldn’t spend the rest of their lives drowning the holidays out. He took a sip of his cocoa and flopped onto the sofa, long legs stretched out beside him as he took a bite from one the cookies. Damn they were good, his mom would have been proud even if Jake weren’t.
He heard the footsteps on the stairs and the door open slightly, but refused to turn around, staring ahead until the glow of the open fire became a dancing haze that filled his vision.
“Honey I’m sorry.”
Jake moved in front of the sofa and crouched down, bringing a finger to Bradley’s chin. He was wearing the pyjamas, he noticed, and for that alone, Bradley met his eyes with a brief smile. But he said nothing, even as Jake lifted his legs and moved to sit, curling against Bradley’s body as he pulled the taller man’s legs across himself.
“Christmas for me wasn’t like it was for you. It wasn’t,” he waved a hand and breathed out a laugh, “Merry.” He paused, and the voice that began again was much rougher, cracking before he made it through the sentence. “And then when my dad…”
Putting down the mug, Bradley pulled Jake closer and touched a soft kiss to his lips before pulling the blond head down to his chest.
“Babe I know. It’s a rough time.”
“Do you think about them at Christmas?” Jake asked, closing his eyes as much to avoid the hideous surfing Santas as to focus on the warmth of Bradley’s body against him and the depth of his voice as he spoke.
“Every year. They loved this time of year, and even after my dad died mom and Mav would do everything they could to make Christmas magic.” He paused, “I guess that’s why I still do so much – they worked so hard to stop it feeling sad and I want that too, you know?”
When there was no answer, he jostled Jake’s head until the green eyes slowly opened.
“Were you sleeping?”
“Just listening. I’m sorry.”
Bradley nuzzled against the top of his head. “You said that already.”
“It’s just, even before that year, Christmas wasn’t magic for us. There was always shouting and frustration, and pressure – so much pressure.”
“At Christmas?”
He raised an eyebrow, “You’ve met my father.”
Bradley nodded and returned to his cocoa.
“I worked the last four Christmases before we got together. Like, volunteered in the first week of January so I didn’t have to go home and hear how much of a failure I am.”
“You know that’s not true though right?”
Swiping his drink, Jake took a sip and shrugged. “I don’t know Brad, a lifetime of being told that is a lot to ignore.”
Everything in Bradley ached, not at the words but at the pain he heard; at the idea Jake would even begin to feel that way, and for a moment he genuinely considered driving out to Texas to punch Mr Seresin senior squarely in the face. But that idea faded with one look at his fiancé and the pain he so rarely allowed to be seen, even here in their house.
Shifting in the chair, Bradley pulled Jake firmly into his lap, until they were eye to eye with foreheads pressed together.
“Jake Seresin, you are the most incredible man I’ve ever met. You do anything for your parents – even when you get very little in return, and are the greatest uncle to those kids I’ve ever seen. You’re the guy who’s always at the end of the phone whenever our friends need something, and you know why they call you? Because you have the answers, always. You’ve saved God knows how many people in the past ten years and you’re one of the best pilots in the US Navy,” when Jake raised an eyebrow he laughed and nodded, “OK fine, the best. Probably.” The other man grinned in a way that touched every nerve in his body. “You’ve built this incredible home, some of it literally since I couldn’t be trusted with a hammer.” Tilting his head, Jake nodded again with a low chuckle. “And you’re pretty easy on the eye too.” This time when he touched their lips together, Bradley stayed close enough that Jake could feel the words on his mouth. “You’re the man I want to spend my life with, to have children with and create all of our own traditions with.” Jake inhaled softly, but Bradley continued. “You are amazing Jake Seresin. And anyone who doesn’t realise that doesn’t deserve an inch of space in that beautiful head of yours.”
Deepening the kiss, Jake stroked a hand over Bradley’s hair and nipped gently at his partner’s lip. “What would I do without you Bradshaw?”
But Bradley only shook his head, voice thick with desire as he began to trail kisses down Jake’s throat, “You don’t ever need to find out baby.”
When his fingers came to the buttons at the front of the red silk shirt, Bradley felt Jake shiver, and only pressed his lips harder to the warm stubbled flesh as he whispered. “You’re it for me, and if I have to spend the rest of my life telling you how lucky that makes me, you can be damned sure I’ll do it.”
As his fiancé moaned softly, Bradley paused and pulled back to look in his eyes, before placing his hands under Jake’s thighs and rising to his feet.
For a moment they stood, the Texan’s legs wrapped around his waist as they kissed deeply. “Upstairs?” Jake asked, shifting ever so slightly until he felt the fullness of Bradley’s erection against him. But the older man only shook his head and began to lower him down onto the wide rug in the centre of the floor.
“I want you here. By the fire, in front of the tree.”
As Jake’s back hit the floor he went to speak, but Bradley only muffled it as he ran his tongue around the deliciously pink lips and focussed once again on peeling off the pyjamas.
“I want you in the centre of this room – of our home – because you are the centre of our home.”
He followed the trail of his fingers with his lips, planting soft kisses against Jake’s chiselled chest and down to his abs thrilling in the way Jake shivered each time the moustache he’d once mocked brushed against his skin.
“These past few weeks, this place hasn’t felt like home. You know why?”
Jake murmured a response as Bradley’s hand went to his waistband and he dipped a finger inside.
“Because we’re what makes this place home Jake. You’re what makes it home for me, do you understand?”
When he moved his eyes upwards, Bradley found Jake’s eyes dark and glinting with emotion. Taking hold of the silk, he spoke again. “Can I take these down baby?”
Jake parted his lips and nodded, watching intently as Bradley pulled out the waistband and dragged the trousers down slowly, maintaining eye contact even as he found him naked, hard, and hot inside. Bradley flicked a tongue across his lips and glanced downwards as he ran a single finger down from the tip of Jake’s cock, dragging the single bead of moisture right down to the base until the answering shiver made him grin.
Staring back into his fiancé’s eyes, Bradley gripped the other man’s erection and began to move his hand back and forth.
“I want Christmas to be ours Jake, because I want everything to be ours,” he murmured in a low voice, heavy brown eyes meeting green as he watched his partner’s body respond. “I want every Christmas to be ours because I want every day to be ours. I want you to be mine, forever.”
And with that he ducked his head, feeding the rock-hard flesh into his own mouth until he heard Jake let out a low groan and beginning to massage the other man’s balls as he moved his head up and down, coaxing the spongey head with his tongue until Jake hissed his name and fisted a hand into the thick brown curls.
On a soft moan, Bradley shifted his head until Jake’s cock hit the back of his throat and the other man’s entire body went rigid as he cried out.
Jake’s cock twitched in his mouth; a sign Bradley knew meant he was close. And with his own arousal damp in his trousers, Bradley took the hard flesh from his mouth until only a thin string of salvia connected his lips to Jakes erect cock.
Bradley swiped the saliva away with two fingers and then spit to add a little more moisture before he took his fingers to Jake’s ass and circled the opening there. As Jake writhed on the floor, Bradley moved his mouth down to join his fingers, probing his tongue inside as he continued to move his fingers until Jake tugged at his hair.
“Stop, I need you to, I can’t…”
Placing his hands on Jake’s taught thighs, Bradley sat back on his knees and gazed at his fiancé’s tightly closed eyes over the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
“You need a second?”
Jake nodded, jaw tensed as he tried to pull himself back from the brink.
“It’s been a while baby, you need the lube?”
Jake nodded and opened his eyes, sinking his teeth into his lower lip as he watched Bradley rise and head upstairs. Alone in the room, he closed his eyes again to catch his breath and was overcome, not only with lust but with a love that seemed to radiate through not only his chest but his entire body before spilling out from his eyes. When Bradley began to make his way back downstairs Jake pulled the back of his hand across the first tears that fell, ready to reach out to his partner as he returned.
Kneeling up, he placed his hands on Bradley’s thick thighs and met the taller man’s eyes. “Let me touch you.”
Bradley shook his head but leaned down to tilt Jake’s head back and plant a soft kiss on his lips. “No baby, tonight is all about you. Let me love you.”
As he lay back, Jake gave a watery grin and croaked out a plea, “At least take off those fucking stupid pyjamas.”
Eyes wide, Bradley smiled and motioned to the surfing Santas and holly-topped palm trees. “Oh you think these pyjamas need to come off?”
Throwing the bottle he was carrying onto the floor, he drew his hands slowly up his torso and began to unbutton the shirt, catching his lower lip as he stared at Jake’s face and watched the other man’s jaw drop. Shrugging out of the shirt one arm at a time he theatrically balled up the soft material and tossed it towards Jake, bringing a breathy laugh at the patterned fabric hit him in the face.
“That enough for you?” He asked, grinning as Jake shook his head and, using one hand to clutch the shirt to his face and inhale, raised the other into the air to gesture to the his partner’s trousers.
The sight made Bradley’s breath catch with lust, and it took everything in him not to leap forward and take Jake there and then. Instead, he brought his hands to the waistband of the trousers, and begin to move his hips gently as he slid them slowly down, revealing increasing amounts of toned golden flesh. As his erection sprang free, he heard Jake let out a small gasp and allowed it to spur him on as he kicked off the pants and dropped to his knees, applying the lube slowly and deliberately to his cock.
“Ready?”
Jake nodded and shifted his legs to the side so that Bradley could take them in his arms as he leaned forward first to kiss his fiancé deeply before moving back to lift Jake’s ass and thrust inside, gently at first until he saw Jake’s body sigh with pleasure and met his eyes with a nod.
Bradley began to move his hips, matching his ragged breaths with thrusts that sent him deeper and deeper inside Jake until he was touching the sensitive spot inside over and over until Jake shuddered beneath him.
“Tell me how you want it baby, tell me everything you want.”
Jake shook his head, his face a picture of lust and reverence. “I just want you. Every bit of you, inside me. With me.”
Bradley’s hips stilled and he moved a thumb to run over Jake’s lips, “You’ve got me, always.”
They stayed like that for just a moment, eyes fixed upon one another, and bodies connected. “I love you,” Jake murmured, before parting his lips and sucking Bradley’s thumb deeply as he moved his hips. “Now fuck me.”
On a growl, Bradley began to move again, using all of his restraint to fuck slow and deep so that Jake could feel every inch of his as it moved in and out. As he brought a hand to Jake’s balls and began to speak again, he saw the other man’s eyes roll.
“I thought about this so much while you were away and longed for it, longed for us. You’re incredible Jake and I’ll never let you forget it, even if I have to tell you every day for the rest of your my life.”
Jake let out a choked groan and reached down to grip his cock, squeezing it hard as his body twitched.
“What’s wrong baby, does it feel too good for you?” Jake nodded silently; his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to focus. “Hold on for me Jake, I want to make this last. I want to make every moment of it last.”
Jake whined and opened his mouth to speak but could only nod dumbly as Bradley continued to move inside of him.
“I know baby, I know how good it feels. It’s so good for me too, but let me take every moment, OK?”
Jake’s lower lip trembled, and he whined again.
“Fuck baby, I love it when you whine.” Bradley groaned and felt his hips jerk forward of their own volition. “Look at me Jake, I want you to look in my eyes when I fill you up. Ready?”
“Yes,” Jake’s voice was ragged as the tears began to flow freely. “Fuck yes. I love you so much, fill me up Bradley. God, fill me up.”
“I love you,” he gasped. “Oh fuck I love you.” The last conscious thought he had was to reach out and cup Jake’s face in his hand as he buried himself into Jake’s ass one more time and, with a cry of the other man’s name, emptied himself inside.
At almost the same moment, Jake found his own release, spilling onto Bradley’s stomach with a cry. They stayed that way, both panting and trembling, for a moment until Bradley’s arms felt like they were about to give out and he allowed himself to fall onto Jake, the other man cradling his head against his chest as they allowed themselves to slowly recover.
“We should shower,” Jake finally declared, sweaty and covered in cum.
Bradley grunted softly, “Then back into to the Christmas pjs right? It would be rude not to when you wear them so well.”
The blond’s only response to the question was a laugh that rumbled in his chest. “And then what Mr Christmas?”
Bradley shrugged and Jake twitched at the sensation of his moustache tickling against bare skin. “I don’t know, beer and Chinese food?”
On a grin, Jake lifted his partner’s head and planted a soft kiss on his mouth. “I love you Bradley Bradshaw. And tomorrow when I’ve recovered, we’re going to start a whole new tradition of me showing you just how much.”
previous chapter ← Damned → next chapter || masterlist
Pairing: married!sugar daddy!Jake x AFAB!reader (no use of Y/N)
Summary: you and Jake attempt to deal with the feelings that emerge in the aftermath of your first night together.
Special thanks to my beloved friend and editor @formationlaps - you make me look like a much better writer than I am; @blue-aconite for going through this and making sure it didn't suck as much as I thought it did.
Warnings: a lot of feels?, these two trying to navigate this mess and falling hard for each other, Jake's infidelity starts to weigh a little more, an oh moment, also a guest character makes an appearance.
As a reminder, Jake is married in this AU, and it’s not to the reader. I personally do not condone any sort of cheating, so if this is not your cup of tea, please skip this fic/series. Let's normalize not engaging with content that makes us uncomfortable.
Word count: 2.2K
do I wanna know if this feeling flows both ways?
sad to see you go, was sort of hoping that you'd stay
baby, we both know that the nights were mainly made
for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day
(arctic monkeys)
“… and I would ask you if you have any single friends who would be willing to give it a shot, but she’s engaged to the most boring guy to have ever walked on this planet, so… there’s nothing I can do but to pull through, I guess, because I cannot count on him to fuck that grumpiness out of her.”
“Yeah. From what I saw and heard, Amy could definitely use a good lay”, Jake says with a chuckle. You’re still wrapped around him, head resting over where his heart beats steadily under your ear, your fingers tracing leisurely shapes over his chest hair.
You pick up his wrist from where his arm is wrapped around you and glance at his watch - it’s a little past midnight.
“I should get going”, you say quietly, reluctantly untangling yourself from him and falling back on the pile of pillows. His body shifts so that he’s on his side, head propped in his hand, facing you.
“I wish we could stay here all night.”
“Me too”, you say, resisting the temptation to touch him again - you fear that if you do, you won’t be able to leave. “But I have class in the morning, and I’m sure you need to go back home too.”
You don’t know for sure, but you can imagine.
You imagine him sneaking back home, trying to be quiet, perhaps taking a quick shower to get your scent off of him before slipping into bed, muttering an excuse about having to work late before settling down beside her. She doesn’t have a clue, or maybe she does. Neither of those alternatives make any of this any better. Being someone’s source of pain and suffering isn’t what you set out to do, and yet, here you are: naked, in bed, with a married man. Fuck, you should know better.
“Angel…”, he starts, hand - left hand - reaching out to touch your cheek , the faint glare of his wedding ring shining on your peripheral vision.
“I don’t want to know Jake. I-”, you sigh. “The less I know, the better. You don’t have to tell me anything. It’s your life. Your marriage”, you say, trying to remove yourself from this disgraceful equation which you find yourself in.
“Fair enough.”
You do remove yourself physically then, as you roll out of bed, grab your panties and head to the bathroom, locking the door behind you. Your fingers grip at the cold marble counter and you force yourself to look in the mirror; it’s really fucking hard to face it, to face yourself and to sit with what you’ve done. Then comes the familiar sting of tears brimming in your eyes and you let out a shaky sigh. You allow a few of them to roll freely down your cheeks as the shame and guilt swallow you whole.
What the fuck are you doing?, you think, staring firmly at your tear-filled reflection. The answer to that question hits you like a punch to the guts. It goes way beyond having had sex with Jake - it’s having had sex with him, and wanting more. More than sex, more than one night, more than his lips on yours. It’s wanting more than you can have, and definitely more than you should have. Then you remember-
It’s not what you think.
If that’s the case… perhaps you can dream of him a little longer.
You splash some cold water on your face in an attempt to startle yourself into action, whatever action that may be. You fish a black t-shirt and pants from your backpack, slip them on and go back into the room. Jake is no longer on the bed, but the balcony doors are open, so you push the curtains away to see him standing there under the moonlight, putting out a cigarette. He’s dressed up as well - shoes and pants, and he moves to start buttoning up his shirt.
“Everything all right?”, he asks, as you step closer to him.
“Yeah, just… everything’s fine”, you shrug, your eyes to the ground. If it was hard to face yourself, it will be much harder to face him. He tilts your head up with his fingers, your gaze shifting, trying to get away from him.
“Hey”, he whispers, pulling you into his arms. You cling to him, a little more desperately than you should, but for the second time that night, you feel him slipping through your fingers so you will hold him for as long as you can.
It’s the little things. The way his hand covers the side of your head, fingers tunneling through your hair, thumb rubbing your temple and soothing your thoughts. The growing familiarity of his heartbeat, steady and strong like him. The unique scent of his chest - his cologne, tobacco, something that’s undeniably his, and now, something that’s undeniably yours, too. The press of his lips to the top of your head, soft and caring.
It’s the little things that chip away at the big thing, that make the elephant in the room feel smaller and less relevant, because honestly, what could possibly be more important than this moment right here?
Jake tightens his arms around you and sighs, his breath washing over your hair and dissolving any and every doubt you ever had about this.
It’s real. He’s real.
You pull away just enough to pick up where he left off, buttoning up his shirt; and when you get to the last two, he covers your hands with his, brings your joined hands to his lips, and presses a few kisses to your knuckles.
“Is it okay if I text you?”
“Sure. Yeah, I would like that”, you reply, pursing your lips to try and hide the smile that’s coming up.
“I’ll walk you out.”
He puts on his jacket and you slip on your shoes, grab your backpack (sans bathrobe - fuck, you really wanted it) and you both walk across the room in silence. In a split second, he’s spinning you around and pressing you against the door, claiming one more breathless kiss. A sigh escapes you when you part.
“Good night, angel.”
“Good night, baby”, you reply, reaching out to touch his face - the beautiful face of this sweet, sweet man who just turned your life around, who touched you in ways he perhaps will never fully comprehend. You don’t fully comprehend it yourself, how you’re both so comfortable with each other if this is your first night together. Your first kiss happened just a few hours ago. It should feel weird, right?
And yet it’s not. It’s familiar and easy and feels right in ways that it shouldn’t. Your mind goes back to the times he came to the restaurant, with you two orbiting each other all night, cracking easy jokes, making small talk, getting to know each other over drinks.
Oh.
So this is actually your fifth date. You’re thankful that you didn’t have to go through the normal path, the awkward first date, the whole trying to figure each other out thing, holding back until you know them better. Your fifth date happened before either of you realized you even had a first one.
He opens the door and you slip out in silence, making your way to the elevator. You glance at him one more time before it arrives and you get in, preparing yourself for being invisible again.
Jake watches as you disappear into the elevator and opens the door further, standing there for a moment before closing it behind him and crossing the hallway to the opposite room. He swipes the key over the reader and walks inside the hotel room that has been his home for the past two months. He wasn’t joking when he told you you had the entire floor to yourselves - there were just two rooms, the one you were in, and the one he’s been living in. And now he’s just blocked the entire floor because, well, he can.
He leans back on the closed door, fresh memories of that night flashing through his head, until he remembers your face as you came out of the bathroom and his heart sinks in his chest. This is not what he wanted - this was supposed to be an incredible night, he’d been waiting for this for so long. Neither of you were prepared for what came after the fact, though, and reality came knocking in the form of tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.
Jake knew that there was nothing he could say to make it any better. To make it right. That’s why he chose to just hold you close and let your bodies do the talking - they had been wonderfully communicative until then. And it seems to have worked.
Now you’re gone, and he’s alone again, wishing you could have stayed. Perhaps next time, he thinks, as he shrugs off his jacket.
Next time. He knows it will be a while - the day after tomorrow, he’s going to Europe and will be there for two full weeks. That’s why he was so hesitant earlier that night: if he let you go, it might have been easier to endure the next few weeks but he may have missed his shot forever; if he didn’t let you go, he would spend the next weeks dreaming about you… but at least he would have someone worth coming back to.
And he was about to show you just how worth it you are.
“Good morning, Harper. My office”, Jake says as he passes by his assistance on his way in.
“Morning, boss”, she replies, springing up from her chair and adjusting her glasses before following him to his office.
“Close the door, please.”
She shuts the door behind her, pen and notebook in hand.
“Take a seat.”
“Okay”, she mutters before sitting down across from him.
“I have a special assignment for you.”
“Oooh, that sounds interesting”, she perks up, shifting to the edge of the chair.
“I need to buy some… gifts.”
Harper frowns, shoulders sagging. “Jake, I always buy your gifts for you. There’s nothing special about this.”
“That’s not… it’s different. I’m going to need you to buy a lot of gifts over the next few… weeks, I guess. Months. I don’t know, make a list and make your way through it.”
“All right. Well, I know what Kat likes, what you’ve already bought her - which, thankfully, isn’t a lot - so I’ll get right-”
“It’s not for her”, he cuts her off.
“Oooookay… but in order to make a list, I sort of need to know who I’m buying for…?”
Jake clears his throat, and a long pause follows before he shuts the lid of his laptop, clasps his hands over it and turns to Harper.
“It’s this girl.”
“This… girl? Oh!”, she yelps excitedly when the penny drops, “That’s who the Elsa Peretti earrings were for! I knew those weren’t for Kat because she doesn’t even look at jewelry that costs less than 5 grand, and they were too elegant for her anyway.”
“Look, Harper - I don’t need to tell you that this conversation cannot get out of this room, but I’m telling you anyway. No one can know about this. At least not yet.”
“Oh my god, oh my god, okay. What size does she wear?”
“I don’t actually know that yet, I’ll let you know once I do. Start with something else, something that doesn’t require sizes and all that.”
“Right. What does she like?”
“Good question. She liked the earrings. She doesn’t really wear jewelry - I mean, she’s… she’s a bartender.”
“A bartender?”, Harper asks, incredulous. “As in, a normal person?”
Jake pauses, reclining back on his chair, looking out the window.
“Is that such a bad thing?”
He swivels the chair towards her, and there’s a familiar expression on his face - a pained one which she’s seen before, whenever Katharine came to his office and it would end in a shouting match. Well, perhaps you couldn’t really call it a match when only one of the parties was shouting.
“Do you like her?”
He sits upright and his entire face lights up, lips curving into a smile, clear green eyes sparkling with a passion she hasn’t seen in a long while.
“Very much, yes.”
“Then it’s definitely not a bad thing.”
Jake nods, gaze lost again, mind wandering back to the warmth of your body next to his. Harper stands up.
“I’ll get started on that list. What’s my budget?”
“You don’t have one. Which reminds me, I’ll also need you to wire 26 grand to this account number”, he says, handing a post-it note to her. “You know which account to use.”
“Right away. Anything else?”
“Oh, yeah. Let me see the gifts first and then… do you mind delivering them yourself? You don’t have to meet her or anything, just drop them over at her place, I’ll ask for her address. I… there’s no one else I could trust.”
Harper smiles a heartfelt smile, and opens the door. “I’d love to. And Jake”, she turns back to him, “thank you for assigning this project to me. It means a lot.”
Ok, I love this, and I LOVE that Jake’s assistant is called Harper, that was not lost on me!
Let it be known that Sugar Daddy Jake is the only thing I’ve been consistently reading over the past couple of months. Because even when you’re hiding from the world he is irresistible, and @fuckyeahhangman is awesome ❤️
Oh hey Tumblr, I'm tiptoeing back here finally and just wanted to say how grateful I am that @dickeddowndecember got me writing again! My prompt is coming tomorrow... Please prepare for lots of smut, aaaand lots of reposting from me while I try to catch up on everything I've missed!
Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
To get absolutely sappy on main, thank you. I hadn’t been active in fandom for nearly 15 years, and then Top Gun Maverick rolls around. I fought with myself, dusted off the old tumblr only to consume fic. NOT write it. Make a handful of friends, freak out about pretty people who make jets go vroom.
Never did I imagine that I would have people following my writing. Engaging with it, loving it, yelling at me about it. I didn’t think I’d get to play in the tag games, or have lil inside jokes. (Fuck I started one)
I’m a lot. I know I am. And slowly, that’s seeping in, between fics and random bits of yelling about gorgeous people– and I’m not a lot here. I’ve found weirdos who match my energy and encourage it.
Please know that I love and appreciate all of you on my little corner of the internet. And I’m probably forgetting someone, because I have a bran that is full of soup and cheese.
@evansrogerskitten and @darkelfgrl you two encouraged me to dip my toes back in. Even though Jen, I haven’t dragged you fully into fandom you indulge my ramblings. @a-reader-and-a-writer @jakeseresins @callsign-phoenix @greensocks @cowboybarbie @mayhem24-7forever @lt-natrace @excercizoeoeoe @rule107 @geekgoddess22-blog @rhettabbotts @double-j @mandylove1000 @theharddeck @thesluttyarchivist @sebsxphia @lorecraft @withahappyrefrain @rolycolysficrecs @stargazing15 and @hangmanapologist thank you so much for being in my messages, my inbox, my ask box and generally amazing humans.
And to the group of people that have made not only this hellscape, but my life brighter. @writercole @therebeccaw @fuckyeahhangman @princessmisery666 @hederasgarden @princessphilly @blue-aconite @callsign-fox @antiquitea @hoe-on-the-range @imjess-themess I love ya’ll so goddamn much and we fight the boys at dawn,
Celebration post coming later.
xo
Shells.
Oh @wildbornsiren I love this, thank you - and huge congrats on 1k!!!
Also, I echo so so much of this. There’s been a lot of tough family stuff going on here these past few weeks and I just haven’t had the energy or brain power to go online, but I know this fandom is here all of their incredible lushness when I’m up to getting back online.
Also, a special shout out with that to @fuckyeahhangman - not only for her awesome Sugar Daddy Jake content, which made me smile during a shitty week, but also for being there and in my inbox while I’ve been struggling.
I know I’m a pretty quiet part of this community even at the best of times, but man I love you all ❤️
I’m back from 10 days in the most beautiful place and feeling a little more human. Catching up on stuff may take me a while but bear with me, and I promise those WIPs will be headed your way soon too ❤️
Earned It || Fine Line, pt 1 || Fine Line, pt 2 || Look Away
Pairing: married!sugar daddy!Jake x AFAB!reader (no use of Y/N)
Summary: you end up, quite unexpectedly, in Jake's arms after a particularly difficult day.
Special thanks to @formationlaps for being my trusty editor, I love ya; and @blue-aconite for going through this and making sure it didn't suck as much as I thought it did.
Warnings: Amy's being a little bitch again, implied infidelity. I personally do not condone any sort of cheating, so if this is not your cup of tea, please skip this fic/series. Let's normalize not engaging with content that makes us uncomfortable.
Word count: 2.3K
and everyday I am learning about you
the things that no one else sees
and the end comes too soon
like dreaming of angels
and leaving without them
(the xx)
Just one more hour, one more hour, you think, as you set another tray on the bar top and slam the order ticket on it.
“Are you sure I can’t help? I guess I could manage pouring draft beer”, Jake says, perched at his usual corner of the bar.
“Trust me, the last thing I need right now is people complaining about their foam not being precisely one inch deep.”
“There’s a joke in there but I’m not going to make it, just so you know.”
“Appreciate it”, you respond, with a half-hearted laugh that somehow fails to convey the depth of your misery.
You are operating on very little sleep. A couple of days ago, you found out that there were no more available sections for a class you needed this semester, and you were waitlisted. Meaning, you had spent the past 48 hours obsessing over the fact that you may not be able to graduate this semester after all. You are so close. After having to quit college a few years ago for financial reasons, you swore this time you’d see it through the end. Now it may not happen because of one stupid class.
To make matters worse, Amy was apparently operating on little sleep, too. Or, she just really, really needed to get laid. Either way, she had been spitting out passive-aggressive remarks the entire fucking evening. For the most part, you’d been able to shrug them off, but they were starting to wear you down.
Your nails are sticky with sugar from making two Lemon Drops, and even one Lemon Drop is one too many. Egg whites everywhere from various Sours. Two girlfriends had asked you for gin and juice and turned around immediately, leaving you to guess which juice and which gin they wanted. The order you just slammed on the tray was for three Strawberry Daiquiris, and you were really hoping to not have to use - and wash - the blender again tonight.
It would be an understatement to say that you were on edge.
The moment you set the tray on the bar from your last order, you realized Jake’s glass was empty. He hadn’t asked for another drink, but you’d rather make him 10 Long Island Iced Teas than pour one straight shot for anyone else.
The daiquiris could wait.
You turn back to grab the bottle of añejo tequila from the top shelf on the back and you place it on your prep station. Agave syrup, bitters, and an orange peel go into a mixing glass and you muddle them carefully. You want the orange to release its oils, but you don’t want the peel to break. Then some ice, tequila, and you stir for a few seconds so that all ingredients could get properly acquainted and chilled. A large clear ice cube goes into a rocks glass, and you slowly strain the drink over it.
Jake is mesmerized, eyes following your every move. The first time you made his drink earlier, he’d missed it because he didn’t know it was his order that you were working on, but he caught a glimpse of the tequila bottle you put back on the shelf afterwards. Now, when you reached for it again, he knew he had to pay attention.
“Thanks, darlin’. Now I know how to make it”, he says with a wink as you place the glass in front of him.
“Do you really?”
“No, I don’t”, he says with a chuckle as you reach for the frozen strawberries in the icebox below the station.
“Come on, I need those daiquiris!”, you hear Jesse calling from where he’s standing, next to Jake. Suddenly, the bag of strawberries is yanked from your hands, leaving you dumbfounded.
“I got it”, Amy says. “She’s too busy making drinks for her boyfriend.”
Jake can see it - the way you’re frozen in place, your hands curling into fists, your jaw clenching so hard you may crack a tooth or two, and the shimmer in your eyes as you try so very hard to rein in the tears that are about to fall from your eyes.
“Darlin’”, you hear him say softly through the chatter and clatter. You can’t bring yourself to look at him; not after what Amy said. Instead, you glance at the exit, weighing your options. What’s the worst that could happen if you just left?
Then, he’s touching you. He reaches over the bar top and places his hand on your shoulder, to ground you, to support you, to tell you he’s still here. A few heads turn at his gesture, including Amy’s, but you could care less right now.
“I’m sorry”, you mutter. You realize this is the extent of what you’ll be able to say without breaking down.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“I need to...”, your voice trails off as you gesture vaguely towards the bar.
“Wait”, he says, and you stop for a moment before turning back to him with a sigh. You still can’t meet his eyes. “Come here.”
You move closer to him and take a deep breath, your hands gripping the edge of the prep station. Jake glances at his watch.
“You’re leaving in an hour, right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’ll wait for you.”
Finally, you level your gaze with his. You’re clearly broken. He must be using all of his self-control not to go after the maitre’d stand and get Amy fired. With a few choice words, he’s certain he could do it. But Amy isn’t the focus now, you are.
“Jake”, you sigh. “Look, I appreciate it, I really do. But I’ve been dealing with her for over a year now, I can handle it.”
“I know you can. But you shouldn’t have to.”
He sits back on his stool and takes a sip of his drink, eyes still trained on you, and you can’t deny it - having him there makes you feel safer than you have felt in a long time. You take a deep breath and go find your next order. One more hour.
And what do you know? Time flies when you’re looking forward to something. Amy’s been glaring at you the whole evening, doubtlessly waiting for an opportunity to take another jab at you, but you’re so efficient for the rest of your shift that she never gets the chance. You wash your hands one last time, drying them on your apron as you glance in Jake’s direction. He swirls his drink in the glass and downs what’s left of it as you approach him.
“I’ll wait for you out back”, he says, placing two hundred dollar bills on the counter before turning to leave.
I’ll wait for you out back.
His words repeat in your head as you start making your way out, untying your apron. You remember what happened last time - if you close your eyes you can feel the warmth of his body close to yours. But no, you think, as you shake your head. He also left you standing there, so you’re sure nothing is going to happen.
If that’s the case, why is your heart racing?
You choose to ignore the pounding in your chest as you put on your jacket, sling your backpack over your shoulder, and walk out the back door.
The silence is deafening in the back alley, now that you’ve left the noise of the busy restaurant. The residual noise of the chatter of patrons and your coworkers shouting orders turns into a steady hum that gets slowly replaced by the sound of your own heartbeat. A dull thud thud thud in your ears that’s making your stomach turn. You run your palms down the front of your pants to dry the sweat off of them.
You turn around to walk toward the main street. That’s when you see him. (At least, you hope it’s him - if it’s not, then you’re likely about to get mugged, but with the amount of adrenaline that’s surging through your veins, this might end up badly for the other party.)
“Jake”, you tentatively call out. The figure starts moving out of the shadows and walks towards you. You see a trail of smoke, and whatever breath you still have in your lungs is knocked out by the sight of him. He’s in the same clothes that he was wearing inside, so why is your heart racing? It’s just a white button down shirt, dark blue suit jacket and pants. It’s objectively nothing special.
But it’s him.
Before you know it, you’re sprinting, stopping just short of him, your heart about to burst from your chest.
“Hey”, he says, before bringing the cigarette to his lips again, taking a pull, eyes narrowing at you. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah”, you reply, still trying to catch your breath. “That was... thank you. I mean, today was just the worst day. The last couple of days have been really shitty with college and whatnot, and Amy can be a lot but, today, my god, she was just on my case for some reason, calling you my boyfriend? I mean, what the fuck was she thinking, that was so uncalled for-”
Jake reaches out, and, for a split second you think he’s going to touch your face. Your breath hitches, your rant interrupted.
“You’re wearing them”, he says, his fingers running down the drop earrings he gave you. Your cheeks turn beet red and you hope he can’t see it under the dim streetlights. “I’m glad you like them.”
“I do”, you say, feeling your anxiety starting to dissipate like vapor into the cool evening air. It’s replaced by something else you won’t - or can’t, maybe - name just yet.
He flicks the cigarette away, takes a step forward, and wraps one arm around you, bringing you close to him. The hand that was touching your earring travels down your skin, lightly touching your neck, until it settles on your cheek, his thumb caressing you gently.
“I’m sorry you’ve been having such shitty days lately. Wish I could do something to help.”
His voice rumbles in his chest, right through your ear. You can feel it in your head, and you all but melt into him.
“You are helping. I mean, a few more tips from you and I might be able to pay off my student loans”, you say, joking.
Then, there’s a long pause. You swear your breaths become synchronized. You’re happy to just be able to rest for a minute, safe in his strong arms.
“Forget about all that”, he says, and then pulls you closer, and you hear his heartbeat picking up. “God, I want to make you forget about all of that.”
“Jake...”
There’s a shadow on your face, and the next thing you feel is the soft brush of his beard on your cheeks.
You could run. All you have to do is tear yourself from him, run, and not look back.
He’d probably never show up at the restaurant again, but if he does, well… you suppose you could get another job.
But the thing is, you really need to know what he tastes like.
“Jake”, you repeat, as if his name is the only word you know. It might as well be.
Your backpack slides down your arm, falling to the ground. You turn your head slightly. It’s your way of saying that you’ll meet him halfway if he wants to proceed, and his lips ghost over yours. His large hand grasps the back of your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, and when his tongue darts out to sweep over your bottom lip, a shiver buzzes your entire body awake, and you hold on to his shoulders for balance.
Your lips part for him, his soft tongue sliding over yours, the contact tearing a whimper out of you.
“Fuck”, he groans, hot mouth over yours, his body pressing into yours. You stumble, taking one step back, two, three, until you’re sandwiched between him and the cold brick wall behind you, his hand sliding down the sides of your body to grasp firmly at your hips.
“What are you thinking about?”, he rasps, his lips finding their way down your neck and you tilt your head further, exposing your delicate skin for him to savor. A light graze of his teeth on your pulse point has you keening, your knees dangerously close to buckling.
“Asked you a question, darlin’”, he probes, his voice low and demanding. Your brain has turned into a mess of fireworks popping with every single word and every touch. There is nothing on your mind but his taste on your lips and his smell on your nose and his body on yours, nothing but...
“You.”
It sends him over the edge, and you gasp when he presses his hips against yours, his fingers digging into your skin so harshly you wonder if they’ll leave bruises.
Not that you would mind.
He backs away abruptly, a gust of cool air washing over the empty space between you two. Your heart drops to your stomach, a familiar lump forming in your throat, the heat that rises to your cheeks isn’t the fun kind. You hunch over to pick up your backpack and hang your head low. He runs a hand through his hair and exhales.
“It’s just...”, he starts, closing the distance between the two of you again, but not getting close enough. “It’s going to be hard to stop once we start.”
He may be talking about tonight. He may be talking about the two of you in general. It’s true for both situations. It gives you pause, making you hesitate. You were so sure of this once you walked out of the restaurant not even five minutes ago.
“You’re right”, you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
So this is how it ends, you think.
This is where weeks of pining and misplaced hope come to a crashing halt.
Summary: After an injury leaves pilot reader (callsign Ariel) grounded, you have to travel cross-country with your nemesis Jake Hangman Seresin. But as you finally reach your destination you have to admit that maybe “nemesis” had aways been a bit of a stretch…
4.4k words
Author notes: I’m sorry for the long wait cliffhanger on this one. As you may have seen, I’ve had some bad news this past week, and just getting online has been a struggle. So now Ariel and Jake’s story is complete I’m going to take a week or so offline while I try to get my head together. In the meantime, please forgive me if this final part of the story isn’t proofread as well as usual – my brain isn’t working. And thank you as always for all of your wonderful comments and reblogs – and thank you for simply being here and reading.
Warnings: MINORS, DO NOT ENGAGE! Smut (unprotected p in v, oral – m receiving, dirty talk, a little choking if you squint), a little angst, sickeningly fluffy Ariel and Hangman.
His face was a picture of uncertainty, and suddenly you realised what he’d meant the night before, about your night together being different to any sex he’d had before.
“If you want to come in, I’d like that.” You laughed softly “That’s underselling it. But if you don’t it’s ok, we don’t need to rush into anything. We’ve been waiting this long, what’s a little longer?”
He cupped your jaw in his large, rough hand, thick fingers stroking your chin as he breathed raggedly. “That’s exactly what scares me. With you I want to rush into everything.” He leaned in to touch his lips gently to yours. “Let’s go to bed.”
Unlike the previous night, there was no frenzied tearing at one another’s clothes. Instead you walked steadily to the bed, pausing en route to grab bottles of water before standing face to face as you undressed yourselves - a gesture that was somehow more intimate than anything you could have done to one another. You watched in fascination the way that Jake’s always steady fingers shook just once as he began to undo the small buttons on his shirt and shrugged the fabric off his shoulders; found your mouth watering as he set to work on the button-down fly of his jeans and dragged the denim down his thick, muscular thighs. When he reached his underwear - tight, black and bursting with hard, hot flesh, your core tightened.
“Can I, when we’re ready, please?”
He nodded, teeth imprinting on his lower lip.
He had taken in every second of your own undressing, eyes soft as your dress had fallen from your body to pool at your feet, then hardening again when you slid the straps of your bra down your arms and unhooked the clasp to allow your breasts to fall free. And though part of you expected him to return the request when you reached your panties, there was no such pause. Instead his eyes rose to yours, burning into you as you slid the damp fabric down your legs before kicking them off on the floor.
When he stepped to you and pressed a hand against the small of your back, you were struck by his closeness, his bareness, and by how it felt to be stood together and pressed against one another as though your flesh was magnetised.
And, you thought fleetingly, maybe it always had been. Maybe everything until now had simply been fighting the way things were always meant to be.
Slowly, gently, he led you back and supported you to lie onto the bed, moving to cover you as your hands explored every part of one another while your lips simply moved and breathed together with a hesitant softness that was somehow sexier than anything the previous night.
Earlier that day you’d told him you wanted him, Jake. And here he was, no trace of the arrogant Hangman on show, and none of the tension you’d come to associate with his family lineage visible as he moved against you.
As his hand moved between your thighs you paused, retreating just enough to see his face and shake your head. “My turn tonight Jake. You asked me what I wanted to know, so tell me. What’ll make you feel good?”
He said nothing, but when your mouth moved to nip at his earlobe, you heard him groan softly, and when your nails scraped softly down his front until your palms moved against him through his boxer shorts, you felt him shiver.
“Touch me y/n.”
“How? What do you want?
“You. Please.”
Mouth too dry to respond, you simply nodded as he lifted to allow you to slowly tug down his underwear, chewing on your lip as you moved inch by inch to take in all that was revealed and relishing the way the powerful Jake Seresin simply laid back and allowed you to take charge in this most simple but intimate of actions. It was only when the fabric reached his ankles that Jake took over, kicking the shorts off until you were both entirely naked.
You moved back up to nip at his lips gently with your teeth and nudged him onto his side to face you. Pupils blown, he watched your hand - small and delicate when gripping his fully grown erection - move up and down him, your thumb moving over his tip to swipe off the jewel of wetness that had gathered there. You moved in firm, steady strokes while your tongue began to dance down his neck and you answered his groans with whispered praises as you licked and kissed every inch of skin you could reach before sucking each of his nipples in turn into your mouth.
Gazing down at you, he moved a hand to your cheek, but you only turned your head and took his finger into your mouth, maintaining eye contact as you sucked it onto the back of your tongue and felt him hiss.
When your mouth finally made its way through the light trail of golden hair, you paused to watch him, gauging his reactions as you stroked his balls and drew your fingers over the veins of his cock. And when you spoke again, your voice was hoarse.
“I want you in my mouth.” But as you shifted, your knee twinged and you heard yourself gasp.
Jake’s hands came straight to your hair. “Y/n, you don’t have to-.”
You shook your head and paused consideringly. “No, I want to. I just might need us to, err, shift a little. Ok?”
The two of you manoeuvred yourselves - him with typical grace and ease, you with a much less sexy shuffle than you would have liked - until you lay on your side, head on a pillow, with him kneeling in front of you.
“Are you sure about this? Is it, OK?”
Snaking out your tongue to touch the very tip of his cock, you shot him a cheeky grin.
“For tonight you get to have me underneath you. That won’t always be the case, so maybe you should make the most of it.”
He laughed and stroked a hand over your hair. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“Oh Jake, you have no idea,” you murmured, running a single fingertip all the way up his length until he shivered.
When his eyes were closed you followed your finger with your tongue and then took him all the way down your throat.
The sound that left his mouth was part groan, part grunt, all lust, as his hands braced on your shoulder, gripping with a restraint that made you moan even as your tongue danced along him.
You moved back, playing gently with his balls as you planted wet, open-mouthed kisses along the whole of his length. When he hissed your name you moved back into position, licking playfully at his tip before whispering your instruction to him.
“Fuck my mouth Jake.”
You heard him gasp softly as the tip of your tongue moved against the soft ridge beneath him.
“Y/n...”
“Fuck. My mouth.” You told him again, scratching your nails against his thighs.
This time there was no hesitation as he thrust himself into you. Right way up it might’ve been too much; he was big enough to make your jaw ache at best. But with your head at a different angle, he slid down your throat in a way that had the famous Hangman whimpering in what might have been the hottest noise you’d ever heard.
He rocked back and forward, alternating the depth of his movements while one hand came to your breast, flicking rhythmically against your nipple, as the other moved to your throat, not quite gripping but touching in just the right place to make your core clench all over again. You moaned and squeezed your legs together to create some friction.
“Want me to take care of you?”
You shook your head, and only carried on sucking him with a vigour, nails digging into his thighs now as you pushed your head forward to take him deeper still as a steady stream of praises left his lips.
It was only a few minutes later when he suddenly pulled back, his cock leaving your mouth with a gentle pop and his hand moving to your cheek as he clambered down next to you on the bed.
“I wasn’t finished,” you pouted as his lips moved against your neck.
“Y/n, if you hadn’t stopped I would’ve been finished. And I need to be inside your pussy.”
“Now.” You told him.
“I’ve barely touched you,” he argued, teeth grazing against your neck and fingers pressing into your wetness until you moaned.
“You don’t need to, this is enough.” Catching your breath, you raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you a tits or an ass man?” When he looked confused you continued. “You still haven’t told me what you like, and I want to know.”
Pursing his lips into a bemused grin, Jake dragged a finger between your tits. “How’s a man meant to choose Princess, when you have these beautiful tits,” he moved a hand round to grip the meat of your butt cheek. “And this incredible ass?”
“Believe me, you can have both. But if you want to be inside me tonight then you need to decide which you want your hands on while you do it?”
He hissed out a curse and shook his head at you. “I want every part of you. But tonight I want to see your face,” He paused with a grin, “so tonight we’ll say tits.”
For all of the awkwardness you’d found in moving yourself around, it turned out that good old missionary position was the most comfortable position you could get into, Jake gathering pillows to place under your knees and hips before he positioned himself above you.
“Shall I get a-?”
“Jake. I want to feel you inside of me.”
Was it possible to physically explode from lust? Because when you saw it - the moment that final wall toppled and he began to move his unsheathed tip between your folds - you decided it was impossible to be this horny and still stay in one piece.
“Anything hurts, you say the word, ok?”
You moved close enough that his breath was your own. “Now Jake, please.”
And then there were no barriers at all you and he was moving; anchoring himself inside you over and over again as his movements against the spongey area within you had your nails digging into his back. And when he shifted his weight to one perfectly sculpted arm and moved a thumb to your clit, you lost the ability to do anything but sob out single syllable words. “Jake. Yes. God. More. Fuck.” It was a constant cycle, your brain too full of lust to say any more, your body to full of him to feel anything else, and the swelling in your core matched only by that in your chest as the two of you moved and expanded together.
His eyes were on yours throughout it all, never looking away, the deep green penetrating into you like a challenge you couldn’t resist that kept you staring back even as your head begged to be thrown back and your eyes longed to squeeze shut.
But you couldn’t look away, found his eyes brought as much pleasure as his hands and his cock, and only found yourself tugging at him, digging your nails into the golden hair on his head as your breaths became heavier, louder and he matched you, thrust for thrust and gasp for gasp.
“Are you there?” He asked, at the exact moment your knees went weak, and you felt yourself take to the air as you soared towards your peak.
“So close. Together. Now. Inside me.”
He moaned out a noise that was almost a roar and crushed his mouth against yours as his hips snapped hard into you again, again, again, until you couldn’t take another and all you knew was the pulsing in your core matched by the sensation of him exploding within you, coating your walls over and over again.
With a final thrust, he pressed his open lips against yours, both of you too weak and breathless to worry about technique, before laying his head beneath your breasts.
You lay for what seemed like hours, breaths rising and falling together as you stroked your fingers through Jake’s hair. You would’ve stayed there all night, maybe even forever, had it not been for the stabbing cramp that started up in your healthy leg and had you shoving him gently up with a grunt.
Though he rolled away, Jake’s eyes were still on you as you flexed your leg, his smile clouded by a hint of uncertainty until you looked to him and grinned.
“So I’m guessing that was a definite turn up for the books right?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll say. That was, yeah…”
“Fucking incredible are the words you’re looking for Cowboy. Fucking. Incredible.”
He grinned, and then looked down to where your combined juices were now leaking onto the pillow beneath you. “Should I get something to clean up?”
You looked down. “That would be good, thank you.”
When he came back a moment later, confusion etched on his face and a roll of toilet paper and a small towel in his hands, you raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve never had to do this before,” he explained. “I’ve always used condoms.”
“Always?!” You took both from him and began to clean up yourself and the surrounding pillow.
“Sweets, did you miss the part where I told you I was terrified of getting too close? Unplanned pregnancy is not something I ever wanted to worry about.”
“Not after what happened to Elaine and that terrible pilot.” You teased in mock scandal, and though it took him a moment, he eventually gave you a wide-eyed nod that was only half joking. “Well I’m honoured,” you murmured as you pulled yourself into a sitting position on the towel and moved close enough to kiss him. “Imagine popping Jake Seresin’s bareback cherry.”
He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, and grinned as he pulled back just enough to look in your eyes. “And you said I was arrogant.”
“Oh Jake, I learned from the best there is.” You declared with a wink, something that might have been sexy and sassy had you not chosen that moment to stand on wobbly knees and attempt to make it all the way to the bathroom without dripping on the carpet.
“Do you need-.”
“Don’t offer to help me in the bathroom Jake,” you laughed. “And no texting your mom while I’m in here!”
You heard the groan and a thud as he fell back against the pillows. “Don’t talk about my mom when we’re naked!”
When you returned, he was lying on the bed but had obviously gotten up to pull back the covers. He was still naked, and you wondered for s moment whether that was choice or circumstance.
“Do you need to go back to your room?” You asked, as you moved slowly into the bed.
He raised an eyebrow. “You want me to go?”
“Of course not. I just wonder if you need… well, anything before morning?”
He shrugged and pulled the cover over you both as you lay down next to him. “I could… toothbrush, phone charger. But honestly?” He reached under the covers and gently tugged your leg on top of his. “I don’t want to move. As long as you’re ok with me sleeping naked?”
Grinning, you trailed a finger down his perfect chest. “However will I cope?”
The laugh descended into silence and Jake moved slightly, rolling onto his side to face you and lifted your hand out from under the covers as he interwove your fingers together and fixed his emerald gaze on where your skin met.
“It’s a lot of pressure, carrying the legacy of the Seresin family and all that shit. I know people think I’m arrogant,” when you snorted softly he only smiled and squeezed your hand. “But I have to be. Have to big up every achievement I make because nothing I really do will ever be good enough for my dad. He was admiral by 35.”
“That’s a lot.”
“It is. I sometimes feel like I’ve already failed, whatever happens I’m just running to catch up. Then there’s my mom.” He sighed. “Unless I’m saving the world single handed - hell, maybe even if I were - she thinks I should have a whole gang of kids by now, pretty wife at home keeping everything on track.” He shrugged, “which is ridiculous - that’s not the relationship I’d want. But it’s what they had.”
Your free hand moved up to his face, fingers moving through the rough beard as his eyes rose to meet yours. “What do you want Jake?”
“You asked me that already.”
“But today maybe you trust me enough to answer.”
Jake took a deep breath, eyes steeled on yours. “I’d like to be an admiral - as long as I still get to fly I’ll go as high as they’ll let me, but the flying is what matters. And I’d love to teach; never thought I would, but every time I do, it reminds me how incredible our work is, you know?”
“I want to get married. But not just to some quiet, pretty woman who stays home and goes out for lunch every day with the girls. There’s nothing wrong with those women, or the guys who marry them - great for them, but I want someone who keeps me on my toes you know? Tells me when I’m being an ass.”
You snorted and he only quirked his lips.
“And lives the life she wants too. There’s so much adventure out there if you’re not afraid to find it. I want someone to live that with, who gets that every bit of life can be an adventure. I’d like maybe three kids? Couple of dogs, maybe a cat. A good patch of land somewhere where the kids can run off all that energy kids have, just like we used to. And I want,” he sighed, and you stiffened as you saw the glittering in his eyes. “Fuck y/n I want this. Being able to lie in bed and talk about the world, to feel like I don’t need to do anything - to be anything except for myself. I didn’t think I would ever have that part, could ever have that.” His voice trembled slightly and you stroked his face. “I’m so scared of doing it wrong. I worry it’s not just my dad I won’t be enough for but that when the time comes I’ll be a terrible husband, a terrible father.”
You brushed a kiss over his lips and stared into his eyes. “Jake, everyone worries about those things. My dad told me he broke down in a public bathroom the day my mom told him she was pregnant. I’m pretty sure it’s the people who don’t worry who have something to worry about.”
“I doubt my dad has ever worried about fatherhood in his life.”
Shifting, you laid your head against his chest, “Bullshit. I bet he worried when your sister was hanging out with navy boys on air bases,” you declared, rewarded when his chest rumbled beneath you with a laugh.
“Jake?”
“Yeah?”
“How come it’s OK to talk about your dad while we’re naked, but not your mom?”
“Why would you do that?”
You bit back the smile, knowing you’d shifted his emotional discomfort. “What?! It’s a valid question.”
“Why would you make this weird? Why?”
You were still laughing when he spoke again. “I bet your dad’s not an ass though, right? I’m Hangman, y/n, I’m really good at being an asshole. What if that never changes?”
“Oh you’re very good at being an asshole,” You laughed softly, “but you’re also an incredible man Jake Seresin. You’re a brilliant pilot for sure, but you’re also a pretty fantastic man, and I don’t think you could ever disappoint anyone who loved you.”
When you felt his chest catch and tremble, you stroked his back gently, and gave him a moment before speaking again. “So where would it be? Your patch of land for the kids to run around on?”
Jake sighed and shifted, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he intertwined his feet with your own and began to speak, painting a perfect picture of the family home he dreamed of - one that bore more than a few similarities to the home you had imagined for your own future.
You swapped details, hopes and plans for the future, and kept talking until the spaces between your words grew longer and softer, and the two of you drifted off to sleep in a tangle of limbs and whispered dreams.
_______
Waking up next to Jake was no longer a surprise. Waking up to find his green eyes fixed on you though, a soft smile on his face? That wasn’t something you’d experienced before.
“Watching me sleep Cowboy?” You murmured, voice heavy with sleep.
He ran a hand over your hair and grinned, “trying to figure out what you were dreaming about to be talking the way you were.”
You swatted a hand against his chest good-naturedly, but he only caught it, using it as leverage to pull you closer and press his lips against yours for a deep kiss.
There was something deliciously decadent about lying together and simply kissing one another - long, slow and comfortable - after days of feeling unsure what was going on between you; and when his tongue moved against yours and you began to make out like teenagers, you found every cell of your being humming with a blend of excitement and satisfaction you swore you had never felt before. You allowed yourself to get lost in the sensation of kissing him, in the gentle movement of his hands in your hair and the heat of his skin next to yours, with no thought for the clock or anything that may lie in the day ahead. You stayed that way for what seemed like hours, stroking, touching and only deepening your attention on one another as the day wore on.
if you got on the road later than he’d been planning, Jake didn’t complain; and it was likely no one else would either - not when you both headed off on the road with the kind of expressions that let everyone in a five-mile radius know exactly how you’d spent your morning, and would undoubtedly be spending many mornings to come.
For now though, the pair of you had at least a week in separate rooms of a navy base to contend with; a base you drove to in contented silence while soft rock played on the stereo and Jake’s hand rested on yours upon his thigh, the two of you exchanging occasional glances that brought a flush to your cheeks and a warmth to your core.
When you arrived at Whiting Fields you were met by a harried looking admiral who was only too keen to hurry you into the admiral’s office where you could get your orders for the coming days. You were escorted rapidly to a training room with barely time for even the most professional goodbye to Jake, but didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on yours as you gave the quickest of glances in his direction. Nor did you miss the fact he’d saved you a seat when time for dinner finally arrived - the seat next to his no less where he was able to gently brush your arm with his each time he reached for his drink in a way that left a soft, warm buzz on your skin long after dinner had finished and you’d returned to the single room that had been set aside for you on base.
You were just planning to settle in for the night when there was a gentle tap at the door in a rhythm you recognised only too well. Moving across the room with more way more ease than you’d felt at the start of the week, you opened the door and felt your breath catch when you saw him there; broad shoulders, confident stance and perfect uniform of Hangman but that gorgeous wide-open face that was purely Jake. Your Jake.
“Well hello lieutenant,” you murmured softly, leaning against the door jam. “What can I do for you?”
“I heard you might need a comfort blanket to get you through the night?” Though the grin that pulled at the edge of those perfect lips held a hint of cockiness, the eyes were filled with a hope that made your heart swell, even as you glanced back to the bed and shrugged.
“You know, these Navy issue blankets are pretty heavy, I might just be OK tonight.” You didn’t have to look at him to know he’d be disappointed, and maybe even a little confused before you finished your sentence. “But actually, there is something you could help me with.”
You let him into the room, and when he closed the door gently behind him, you stepped close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your skin and flicked your eyes down his broad chest.
“What’s that Princess?” He asked, voice soft and thick with lust.
“It struck me earlier that I’ve had sex with Jake Seresin - well, a few times now, and it’s been great. But you know who I haven’t slept with?” He raised an eyebrow, but it only caused you to bite your lower lip before you spoke, “the famous Hangman – I’m told he’s the best there is.” You took another step closer until your body was pressed tightly to his.
Eyebrow still cocked; Jake let out a quick laugh even as he began to harden against you.
“Oh sweets, I’m not sure you’re ready for that?”
Fisting a hand in his shirt, you pulled him impossibly close and stared into his eyes as you flicked out your tongue to trace his lips.
“Now Jake, don’t make me remind you of all the ways I can more than handle you,” you began to run a nail down his rock-hard chest. “In the air, in the training room, in bed.” This time you licked your own lips. “Fuck me Hangman.”
Hiya May I please be tagged on your Jake Seresin fics. I’m loving Grounded and when it popped on my feed today I realized I was 2 updates behind. Thank you.
Summary: Jake likes the jukebox at the Hard Deck, drinking beers, and cute girls who are a little bit mean to him.
Warnings: Fluff and swears
Length: 2600
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Seriously, who let Jake in here??! He even managed to sneak onto my masterlist!
It was late Friday afternoon. Your work friends wanted to go out for drinks, and you heard someone suggest the Hard Deck. Just as you were about to shut down the idea completely, everyone else wholeheartedly agreed.
You fucking hated it there. It was filled with a bunch of cocky, obnoxious naval aviators who ran their mouths nonstop. Last time you went, some guy with a stupid call sign tried to hit on you all night, and another wasted stick-jockey barfed all over your shoes in the parking lot.
You debated just staying home, but somehow they managed to get you to join them. Out of spite, you refused to wear anything other than ripped up jeans, a tee shirt, and sneakers. At least if you had another parking lot incident, you wouldn't ruin anything too nice.
So far so good; your friends got a drink in your hand as soon as you arrived. Glancing around the bar, you noticed a huge group of aviators in their flight suits near the pool tables. They must have come right from work. "Great," you muttered, trying not to make eye contact with any of the guys.
You couldn't have been there for more than twenty minutes, chatting with your friends, when you heard the same song start playing on the jukebox for the third time. You looked around to try to see who the culprit was.
"Who keeps selecting this stupid song?" you asked your friends. They all just shrugged, unbothered that they were being subjected to "Slow Ride" for the third time. As the song ended, you kept your eyes on the jukebox to see if someone went up to play it again. When you saw a blond aviator make his way over, beer bottle in hand, you walked briskly around the bar and stood behind him, waiting to see what he selected.
He pushed 8-6 with his very long, graceful looking fingers, and the drum intro to Foghat's classic rock anthem "Slow Ride" started blaring.
"Again?" you asked, addressing his broad back, and he slowly turned toward you with a look of annoyance and a raised eyebrow. The annoyance melted quickly from his face as he looked at you, and it was replaced with a rather charming smile.
"Can I help you with somethin', babydoll?" he drawled in an accent that you didn't want to enjoy nearly as much as you did. So you narrowed your eyes and stood your ground.
"Babydoll? Who do you think you're talking to?" you scoffed. "And why do you keep playing this god awful song?"
He smirked at you, eyeing you up and down. "You look like the kind of girl who deserves a cute nickname. And I love this song."
His voice was so smooth, and his face was literally flawless. But he was not charming. You needed to stop thinking that anything about this man was charming.
"Really? You love this song? And you think that's a good enough reason to make everyone else here listen to it for the fourth time?"
His brow crinkled a bit. "Tell me, babydoll. What about this song do you dislike so much?"
You gave him side-eye. "Are you going to stop calling me that?"
"Not unless you tell me your name."
You bit the inside of your cheek, trying desperately not to smile. You already felt like it would mean he wins if you crack first. "My name is Y/N."
He smiled brightly. "That's a real pretty name, babydoll."
Oh, okay. He was pretty good at this, whatever this was. Perhaps he was flirting with you? No, this definitely wasn't flirting. It couldn't be. Men this good looking didn't just call you babydoll. And you'd never flirt with this type of guy.
"Do you have one of those stupid call signs? I hope it's truly terrible."
He chuckled, leaning against the front of the jukebox and casually keying in 8-6 again to restart the song as soon as it ended. He had managed to do it before you could get another selection in edgewise. He was very good at this game.
"I'm Hangman," he told you and then took a sip of his beer.
"Yeah, that'll work. It's even dumber than I thought it would be," you told him with a smirk of your own. "So, Hangman, you want to know what I dislike about this song? Well, it's exactly the type of song you'd expect to be beloved by an idiot you meet at the bar. The thinly veiled sexual innuendo of being in the mood for a Slow Ride? Seems totally on brand for a real tool. And on top of that, it doesn't even sound that good."
You watched as Hangman raised his beer toward his mouth and then paused, staring at your lips as another charming smile graced his handsome face.
"Any chance I can get your number?"
You actually snorted. There was no way you were giving him anything; he was not charming and you were not interested.
"Um, no. And don't even think about selecting this track again when it ends." You slid yourself a little closer to him and blocked the number pad with your hand.
"It's all yours, babydoll. But what are you gonna choose that you think is any better than Slow Ride? I think you'll find your options are pretty limited. I doubt this machine has been updated in at least forty years."
"Literally anything else would be better." When the song ended, you glared at him and blindly hit two numbers, just to prove your point.
But you'd miscalculated exactly how close to him you were standing. You had moved into his personal space, and he hadn't backed away at all. Rather, he was smiling down at you, his beautiful teeth on display. And when "Love Gun" by KISS started playing, it took you a moment to realize you'd definitely made a mistake. You tipped your head forward and cradled your forehead in your hand for a few seconds.
"I thought you didn't like the thinly veiled sexual innuendo genre of song?" he asked, somehow managing to keep a straight face before finishing his beer. "This seems like a weird choice then, but hey, who am I to judge? I'm just an idiot you met at the bar," he said with a bright smile.
You couldn't help it; a bubble of laughter escaped from your lips, and his smile grew bigger as he shifted even closer to you. "I think I also called you a tool," you tell him, desperately trying to stop smiling. When the song ended, you hit two more random numbers, and the jukebox started spewing out "Big Balls" by AC/DC and you both started laughing harder.
"Yeah, you called me a tool as well, babydoll. Kind of liked it when you did though," he said with a smirk, setting his empty bottle on top of the jukebox.
How could you possibly find this man appealing? Your heart skipped along a little faster. "So you like it when girls are mean to you?" you asked him and he laughed.
"Apparently. Or maybe I just like you," he murmured softly in that drawl of his, still smiling. "Are you absolutely sure I can't get your phone number?"
"Yes, I'm sure," you replied, but you didn't back away when he shifted his weight and his arm brushed against yours. "I don't give my number out to guys with names as ridiculous as Hangman," you told him with an eye roll for good measure.
"Well then, I'm Jake." He held out his right hand for you to shake and you took it in your smaller one. His hand was calloused but it felt nice against yours. You could definitely spend some time imagining how it would feel if he touched your face or maybe your neck. You took a moment to really look at his eyes. They were green and unguarded, and you didn't really feel like being mean to him anymore.
"Nice to meet you, Jake." His smile never wavered as you withdrew your hand from his. And when the song ended you tried one last time by hitting random buttons, and "Cherry Pie" by Warrant was what you got.
"Seriously? I give up," you said, holding your hands up in surrender. With a smile, Jake took your right hand in his left and turned you so you were both facing the jukebox. Your mouth fell open, and you tried to snap it shut again before he noticed.
"I have an idea," he said as he scrolled through all the songs and album covers on display inside. "If I can find a song that works for you, how about you give me your number?"
"Hmmm, if you can find a song, I'll consider giving you my number."
"I can work with that," he muttered, lacing his fingers through yours as he scrolled and scrolled. "But... you have to be honest with me. If I pick one and you like it, you can't lie and say you don't."
"I won't lie to you," you promised him, running your thumb along his finger.
He made eye contact with you and said, "Okay, Y/N. I won't lie to you either. So here's the truth. I think you're beautiful and perhaps the funniest girl I've ever met. And for some reason I even like it when you're kind of mean to me. And I think you like this song."
Okay, he was definitely charming, and you were definitely into him. And you were probably going to give him more than your phone number before the end of the night.
He punched in some numbers, and you were pleasantly surprised to hear Al Green's "Let's Stay Together". The look on your face must have given you away before you even spoke, because Jake just looked so pleased with himself.
"Yeah, you win, I like this song."
He beamed down at you, pulling you even closer to him by your laced together fingers. "How about I trade in that phone number offer if you dance with me?"
You silently nodded, and he pulled you into his arms. He spun you a few feet away from the jukebox, and when you looked around, you were actually surprised to find yourself still at the bar, surrounded by other people. Everything except for Jake had seemed to melt away. Now your friends were staring at you with mixed expressions of surprise and glee as you danced chest to chest with Jake, and you could feel yourself start to blush. You tried to hide your face against his rough flight suit, but he tipped your chin up with his fingers before you could.
"You wanna stop, babydoll? We don't have to dance," he drawled, and you were silently begging him to never stop touching your face. It felt even better than you thought it would.
"No, it's not that... I just got so distracted by you and the jukebox, I honestly forgot my friends were at the bar. And now they are all staring at us, and I can feel my phone going off nonstop in my back pocket, because I'm sure they are all texting me to find out who you are and why I'm dancing with you."
Jake casually reached into your back pocket and removed your phone, the sensation of his fingers grazing you through your jeans causing you to gasp. "Don't let them distract you, babydoll," he said, placing your phone on top of the jukebox. "There's a reason I have my back to the pool table right now. I'm sure my friends are doing the same thing."
You glanced around his shoulder, and as soon as the other wide eyed aviators had been caught, they all scrambled to pretend they had been playing pool the whole time. You giggled. "Nah, they just looked very surprised and are now pretending to play pool."
Jake laughed, and it was such a lovely sound. "I'm sure they are surprised. This is pretty out of character for me."
You let him lead you back to the jukebox where he hit some more numbers. "What's out of character for you?"
He tilted his head a bit. "Usually I'd be playing darts and minding my own business. Definitely not dancing with the prettiest girl in all of San Diego. Do you like this song too?"
You finally broke eye contact with him and realized he'd selected "Can't Help Falling In Love" by Elvis.
"Damnit Jake, I love this song. And you can't keep calling me pretty and not expect me to give you my phone number," you told him, shaking your head as he grinned. "You're probably a con artist, or at the very least a player, but yeah, give me your phone. You can have my damn number."
He smiled triumphantly as he took his phone out of his pocket and handed it to you. You added your number and saved it as Babydoll, turning the screen toward him so he could see it. He laughed, his eyes searching your face and landing on your lips. "I thought you said you didn't like that nickname."
"I never said that. For some deranged reason, I like it when you say it. You have a very charming accent, Jake. And I guess you're kind of sweet. Anyone else tried it though, and I doubt I'd still be talking to them."
Jake looked pleased as he took your phone off the top of the jukebox and handed it back to you. You watched as he typed something out on his own phone, and then smiled at you. Your phone vibrated in your hands as a text from an unknown number came through.
Will you let me kiss you?
You looked up at him, and those green eyes were too much. Silently you took his hand in yours and started walking backward to the door leading to the back deck. He followed your lead, and when you stumbled toward the railing, you both laughed. There was no one else out here, and the ocean breeze was stirring your hair and your clothes. The heat from his hand mixing with the chill of the night air had you turning toward his body for warmth.
"You can kiss me. I want you to," you told him, and your eyes fluttered closed as he brushed his fingers along your cheek and down your neck.
"I wasn't kidding, babydoll," he told you, and you opened your eyes again slowly to look up at him. His face was just inches away now. "You're gorgeous, and I like it when you make me laugh. If I kiss you, I'm going to want more."
"More?"
"Yeah, like a date. How about tomorrow night?"
Then his lips brushed yours softly, and your eyes fluttered closed again. His hands caressed the back of your neck and you stepped closer to him. You deepened the kiss, moving your lips against his as your hands felt the rough front of his flight suit.
Jake nibbled on your lips before gently slipping his tongue into your mouth and tasting you. You pulled him closer until his body was pressing against yours. His nose bumped yours as he smiled against your lips. You sighed as soon as he pulled away from you, immediately missing his kisses.
"What time are you picking me up tomorrow?" you asked, sliding your hands up around his neck.
Jake smiled down at you and pulled you closer. "I'll take that as a yes?"
"Yes, definitely. Because now I want more, too."
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WHO LET JAKE IN HERE?! I'll now be returning to my regularly scheduled Rooster.
