flora writes

where i post my silly little daydreams 23

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

Introduction!

hiya, welcome to my blog!

flora. she/her. 23.

--this whole thing is quite new to me, but I have mountains of google docs with my silly little daydreams that i feel should have a home here.

--i usually stick to reading, but i feel like i would love to get my (probably cringy) ideas out there so they don't sit in my docs anymore.

--would love some feedback, and my inbox is always open for a chat about anything! :-)

masterlist. requests: open!

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

the great divide - jake seresin

a/n: hi everybody, happy february! prior to v-day...i wanted to get this angsty fic out of the way. the SECOND i heard this song i knew i had to write something for jake. i hope you all love it as much as i do, and i appreciate all the support lately. see you soon! <3

*this fic kind of takes place around high school age (jr/sr) but i realized i never really mentioned it in between writing...oops.

***

Jake can't remember the last real conversation he had with you.

That's the part that keeps him awake most nights--not the breakup, not the long-lasting (often petty) fights, not even the way things ended between the two of you without ceremony. It's that by the end of it all, you weren't talking about life anymore. When you two were younger, you were talking about back roads and how far you could push the speed limit, about whether or not the cop a little far behind you would notice how close you were to the shoulder.

Survival stuff was what most conversations entailed. Small talk that was disguised as vigilance.

You used to drive like the world was ending either way. Windows down, music far too loud, the bass swallowing the sentences between you and Jake. He would glance at you from the driver's seat every so often, wondering how someone could look so present and so far away at the same time.

The cigarette burns were stupid. A childish moment that you and Jake shared long ago. Proof of nothing.

You'd laughed loud when you did it, pressing the glowing tip into the side of your hand like pain was another one of your party tricks. Jake followed almost instantly without even thinking, jaw clenched, refusing to be the one that flinched first. Same hand, same place. Matching scars that meant more back then than they ever should have.

In that moment you weren't friends, instead you were two kids breaking skin in the same spot and calling it intimacy.

There was a night that Jake remembers too clearly, when you took a turn so wide it scared him. Tires skidded, his stomach dropped, and for a second he thought this was it. That whatever reckless gravity you lived with had finally tipped too far.

He remembers being just sober enough, just scared enough, to realize he still cared if he lived.

You didn't say anything at first. No nervous giggle that you slipped out once in a while, no apology, no joke. You stared straight ahead, both hands tight on the wheel like if you loosened your grip, something inside you would spill out. Jake tried to read your face, tried to guess the thoughts you worked overtime to bury. He wanted to ask you if something was wrong. He wanted to ask so badly.

Instead, he said nothing. Just stared out the window while the road swallowed the distance between who you were and who you were becoming.

Years later, that silence feels heavier than ever.

Jake thinks about you all the time. More than he admits, even to himself. Especially now, when the Navy has sanded down the sharpest edges of him but never fixed the hollow parts. He thinks about how little he understood your life back then. How he mistook your stability and your sarcasm for armor.

He didn't see how bad it was. He didn't ask any of the right questions, or any at all.

You crossed the divide slowly. Inch by inch rather than leaping to take it all at once.

While Jake stayed, rooted in the same town, you drove those long stretches of road that split states and thoughts in half. You played the same songs on repeat, swearing the singer knew exactly what you were feeling. Jake heard only the bass line. You heard confession. You heard permission to feel what you were not allowed to say out loud.

The world doesn't like hesitation, which is something Jake knows now.

It rewards certainty, punishes the ones who pause for too long. You hesitated. You hurt quietly. And Jake stared ahead like everything was fine because that was much easier for him to do than turning to look at you.

That's the part he can't forgive himself for.

Now, nearly 15 years later, he catches himself hoping things for you he'll never get the chance to ask about.

He hopes you settled down, not because you needed to, but because you always wanted to.

He hopes you married someone gentle. Someone who didn't make you feel like love was something you had to earn.

He hopes the things that bring you fear now are ordinary, like dark alleys, bad news, the kind of things people can talk about openly.

He hopes you're not afraid of your own soul anymore. Or what happens when you sit alone with it for too long.

There's a quiet kind of rage that lives inside him when he thinks about you. Not loud or explosive, but rather like sparks that never quite catch. Rage at himself. At the timing. At the version of himself that was never brave enough to follow you when you faded toward somewhere unknown.

Sometimes he wonders, mostly late at night after long days, staring at a feeling that suddenly feels abnormally low. He wonders if you wish he'd known. If you ever sat in the dark and hope he'd see past the jokes, the eye-rolls, the silence. If you waited for him to ask the one question that mattered.

He didn't.

And maybe that's why he lets you stay a memory instead of a message. Why he never looks you up. Why he never sends the apology that would come too late.

Because loving you taught him something he only understood after you were gone:

Some people don't disappear because they stop mattering.

Some people leave because staying would have destroyed them.

And Jake Seresin will spend the rest of his life hoping that wherever you ended up, you're only scared of ordinary things now.

***

gah im sorry :,) just to think that this is maybe one of the reasons jake can be such an asshole is just because he misses his best friend and his almost lover </3

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

something to lose

summary: Jake Seresin never feared risk until loving you gave him something worth losing.

a/n: hi everyone! long time no...write? i have been SO busy but i finally get a break (thank goodness) and i have some WIPs that i am finishing up. i really loved this one and i am so glad it is finished so i can share it with you all! this is my first *real* go at angst...so let me know what you think!!! <3

Jake Seresin had never believed in hesitation.

He believed in speed, in instinct, in trust. Trust in the machine beneath him, the training drilled into his bones, the sky that always opened when he asked it to. Hesitation got pilots killed.

That was the version of himself he’d perfected long before you.

The first time you notice it, it’s small.

Jake stands in front of the mirror in your shared bathroom, flight suit halfway zipped. You’re leaning in the doorway, pretending not to watch the ritual you’ve come to know by heart. He checks his watch. His boots. His name patch. All normal.

Then his hand stills at the zipper.

Just for a second.

You blink, convinced you imagined it. Jake Seresin doesn’t pause. Jake Seresin doesn’t second-guess.

But when he finally turns to you, his smile is softer than usual. Less sharp. Like it’s meant only for you.

“Back tonight,” he says.

He always says it like a statement, never a promise.

You nod anyway. “Fly safe.”

Jake leans down, presses a kiss to your forehead. It lingers longer than it used to.

You didn’t expect to fall for a pilot.

Not really. You knew the reputation, how they are always usually don’t like to commit, always halfway gone. Jake had seemed like exactly the type you should avoid: cocky grin, call sign that matched his ego, eyes that dared the world to challenge him.

But beneath all that was someone startlingly human.

Jake who memorized your coffee order after one morning.

Jake who listened more than he talked when you mentioned your fears.

Jake who pretended he wasn’t domestic but folded laundry like it mattered.

Somewhere along the way, he became yours.

The tension builds quietly.

Jake grows meticulous. Double-checks everything. Triple-checks, sometimes. He teases less before missions, jokes don’t come as easily. When they do, they feel forced, like armor he’s snapping into place.

You find him awake late at night, staring at the ceiling.

“Nightmares?” you ask once.

He shakes his head. “Nah. Just thinking.”

Jake never used to think like this.

The day it finally cracks is the day a mission goes wrong. Phoenix was the one to reach out to you, just to make sure you were aware it happened.

Not catastrophic, though. Just enough miscalculation to remind everyone how thin the line really is.

You’re waiting when he gets back, arms crossed, heart in your throat. You don’t run to him. You’ve learned better. Jake needs space before he needs comfort.

He doesn’t meet your eyes.

“J?”

“I’m fine,” he snaps, too quick.

You don’t push, at least not yet. But later, when the adrenaline fades and the silence stretches, you sit beside him on the couch.

“You scared me,” you say quietly.

That’s when he finally looks at you.

And there it is.

Fear.

Raw and unguarded and nothing like the man who owns the sky.

“You knew what this was,” he says, voice tight. “Dating a pilot, this comes with the territory.”

The words land like a slap.

You stand. “So does caring. If that’s a problem—”

“I don’t want you worrying every time I fly,” he cuts in.

“And I don’t want you shutting me out,” you fire back. “I’m not asking you to stop. I’m asking you to stop pretending this doesn’t affect you.”

Jake opens his mouth. Closes it.

For the first time, he has nothing.

That night, he doesn’t sleep.

Neither do you.

The space between you feels inexplicably wide, your backs facing each other. 

The confession comes days later, quietly.

You’re sitting on the hood of his car at sunset, the air heavy with salt and heat. Jake leans beside you, shoulders tense.

“I’ve never been afraid of dying,” he says suddenly.

You turn to him.

“I know.”

His jaw tightens. “That changed when you showed up.”

The words hang there.

“I strap into a jet now and all I can think about is what I’m leaving behind.” He exhales, shaky. “I used to fly like I had nothing to lose. Turns out, that was the easy part.”

Your chest aches.

Jake looks at you like he’s bracing for impact. “I don’t know how to do this. Love someone and still be the pilot they expect me to be.”

You reach for his hand.

“Then don’t do it alone.”

He swallows. Hard.

Things don’t magically become perfect.

Jake still struggles. Still flinches when he sees your fear after a long mission. Still sometimes pulls away before catching himself.

“You know,” he says quietly, “loving you didn’t ground me.”

You raise a brow.

“It gave me a reason to land.”

You smile through the ache in your chest. “I love you, Hangman.”

He kisses you. Deep, certain, real.

No hesitation. 

***

hehehe i really love how this came out!!!! i didn't want to dabble too deeply into the angst because i fear i am truly not there yet...i'm still too obsessed with writing fluff and staying happy. i hope you love it and it feels so nice to be writing again!

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

ordinary

summary: jake was not prepared to fall for you, and it scared him at first. what does he do when he realizes love isn’t something he can control after all?

a/n: heeeeyy guys :-)). i feel so bad for going completely mia…im so sorry pls forgive little ole me 😣. i finally felt like writing again after a little bit and hopefully i find more time to do it, i really missed it! i hope you guys enjoy this!

***

Jake Seresin had always grown up believing that love was supposed to be something you could control. Something that you could compartmentalize, manage, and keep at a safe distance. He’d spent years thinking that affection should be measured, that feelings should never become so wholly consuming that they made you reckless.

And then he met her. And it ruined everything.

Because nothing about his love for her was careful. Nothing about it was something he could set aside or tuck away. It consumed him entirely, an unshakable thing that made his world tilt, his chest ache, his entire body crave the feeling of being near her.

She was in his bones, in his blood.

He felt it in the way his body moved toward her instinctively, even in a crowded room, like some unseen force pulling him back to her. In the way his hand would brush against her lower back, subtle, protective, like he just needed to remind himself that she was there. In the way his lips always found her temple when she walked past him, an unconscious press of devotion. How could he not?

She had changed him in ways he never expected.

Once he had been a man who lived for the thrill, the speed of a jet, the rush of a mission, the easy, fleeting attention of pretty girls at the bar every Friday. But now, he lived for the sound of her voice calling him on his way home from base. For the way she sighed into his touch, melting against him like she belonged there. For the sleepy weight of her body pressed into his side in the middle of the night, one hand resting on the fabric of his shirt.

And God, she didn’t even know what she did to him.

She didn’t know how he watched her sometimes, completely wrecked by the sight of her doing something as simple as making coffee in his shirt, humming a song under her breath. Didn’t know how her laughter was a sound he wanted to bottle up and keep with him always, like a melody he never wanted to forget.

Jake had always thought love should be practical, logical. Something you could step into cautiously with both feet planted firmly on the ground.

But this?

This wasn’t love. This was something holy and completely untouchable.

She was something divine, and he was hers.

The thought should have terrified him, the sheer weight of it, the depth of his devotion. But it didn’t. Because this love, this life with her? It was everything.

It was out of the ordinary and he didn’t want to ever go back.

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

the way he loves you

Summary: The Dagger Squad starts to notice the subtle ways Jake Seresin shows his love for you, from quiet moments at home to stolen glances at the Hard Deck. As each of them pieces it together, they realize Jake isn’t just Hangman—he’s yours.

Warnings: use of Y/N, she/her, fluff.

Word count: 1121 (oops i got a bit carried away)

A/N: someone reposted my last “curious gazes” and requested one with all the daggers, and i’ve been thinking about it ever since. i finally got time to write it so i hope you enjoy, i’ve been loving these!!

***

Jake “Hangman” Seresin had a reputation for being bold and larger than life. To most, nothing more than a cocky, overconfident pilot, the kind of guy who never seemed to take life too seriously. But when the Daggers met you, they began to see a side of Jake they’d never expected—a side that made them realize there was far more to him than they ever realized.

And it happened in little moments, each one chipping away at the image of Hangman and revealing Jake.

***

Phoenix

Natasha had always been sharp. She could read people easily, and Jake was no exception. She’d noticed the changes in him before anyone else: how he wasn’t as quick to boast, how he lingered on his phone more often, smiling at something no one else could see.

Still, it wasn’t until that night at the Hard Deck that she put the pieces together.

Jake walked in with you by his side, and Natasha immediately noticed the way he looked at you. It wasn’t the casual charm he used on everyone else—it was softer, almost reverent.

“Guys, this is Y/N,” Jake said, his voice filled with a kind of pride that made Natasha blink in surprise.

You smiled and waved, introducing yourself as Jake’s girlfriend, though you didn’t need to. Natasha had already figured it out.

She watched as Jake stayed close to you all night, not in his usual attention-seeking way, but quietly, as if he couldn’t bear to let you out of his sight. When you laughed, he leaned in just a little closer. When you spoke, he listened like your words were the most important thing in the world.

Later, as Jake brushed a strand of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek and a soft smile, Natasha smirked and leaned over to Bob. “He’s gone.”

Bob

Bob Floyd noticed it in the details, in the quiet moments that others might overlook.

When Jake and you invited the squad over for dinner, Bob didn’t know what to expect. He’d never pictured Jake as the hosting type, but as he stepped into your cozy home, he could tell this was different.

“Make yourself at home,” you said warmly, handing Bob a glass of sweet tea.

Jake was in the kitchen, wearing an apron—an apron, of all things—as he stirred something on the stove. Bob couldn’t hide his surprise.

“You’re domesticated, Seresin,” Rooster teased, leaning against the counter.

Jake smirked without looking up. “Happy wife, happy life,” he said easily, earning a laugh from you.

“Not your wife yet,” you teased.

“Yet,” Jake said, glancing at you with a grin and tossing you a wink that made Bob’s chest ache with secondhand fondness.

Bob noticed the way you moved around each other, wordlessly passing utensils and dishes, finishing each other’s sentences. There was a quiet rhythm to it, a kind of unspoken understanding that came from deep love and trust.

When dessert came out, Jake set the plate in front of you first, brushing a kiss to your temple. Bob caught the way you smiled, the way Jake’s hand lingered on yours for just a moment longer than necessary.

Bob glanced at Phoenix, who raised her eyebrows knowingly. “That’s love,” she whispered, and Bob couldn’t agree more.

Rooster

Bradley Bradshaw noticed it during a pool game at the Hard Deck.

Jake had always been competitive, but tonight, he wasn’t playing to win against the squad—he was playing to impress you.

Every shot he made, he’d glance over at you, his grin widening when you clapped or cheered. But it wasn’t just the showmanship that caught Bradley’s attention. It was the way Jake handed you the pool cue, guiding you through your shots with a patience Bradley hadn’t thought him capable of.

“Am I doing this right?” you asked, laughing as you tried to line up your shot.

“You’re perfect,” Jake said softly, his voice so low that only you and Bradley heard.

Bradley rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at his lips. “You’re whipped, Seresin.”

“And happy about it,” Jake shot back, winking.

Bradley couldn’t argue with that.

Payback & Fanboy

Fanboy and Payback noticed it on the beach.

It was a rare day off, and the squad had decided to hit the sand for some football and relaxation. You’d tagged along, sitting under an umbrella with a book in hand while the others played.

Jake kept sneaking glances at you between plays, his grin growing every time you looked up and smiled.

When the game ended, Jake jogged over to you, dropping to his knees in the sand beside your chair. “Having fun?” he asked, brushing sand off his hands.

You smiled, closing your book. “Always, when I’m with you.”

Mickey nudged Reuben, jerking his chin toward the two of you. “Look at him. That’s not the Hangman we know.”

“Nope,” Reuben said with a grin. “That’s Jake. Big difference.”

Coyote

Javy had known from the beginning.

He’d been there when Jake first mentioned you, his voice tinged with something Javy hadn’t heard before: vulnerability. He’d watched as Jake navigated the early days of your relationship, unsure of himself in a way that was both endearing and rare.

At a barbecue one weekend, Javy pulled Jake aside, nodding toward you as you chatted with Phoenix and Bob.

“She’s good for you, man,” Javy said.

Jake nodded, his gaze fixed on you. “Yeah. She is.”

“You ever gonna tell her how whipped you are?” Javy teased.

Jake smirked. “She already knows, no need to say it.”

The Moment They All Realized

The squad’s collective realization came during another gathering at your house.

It was late, and the group was sprawled across the living room, laughing and swapping stories. You were in the kitchen, tidying up, when Jake disappeared without a word.

A few minutes later, he returned with a dish towel over his shoulder, carefully carrying a handful of freshly washed glasses.

“Need a hand, sweetheart?” he asked, walking straight to you.

The room went silent as the squad watched him press a kiss to your temple before helping you dry the dishes.

Phoenix broke the silence first. “Holy shit. He’s a househusband.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Jake looked over his shoulder with a smirk. “Jealous?”

“Absolutely,” Natasha said, grinning.

As the laughter died down, Javy raised his beer. “To Y/N,” he said.

You looked up, surprised. “To me?”

Javy nodded. “Yeah. You turned Hangman into Jake. And we love you for it.”

The squad cheered, and as Jake’s hand found yours, you squeezed it, your heart full.

Because while Jake might not have always been the loudest about his love, the people who mattered most could see it clear as day.

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

omg haven’t been back on here in nearly a month and a half and the love i got from this fic makes my heart so happy 🥹💐. i was always so hesitant to share my work on here but seeing all the sweet comments and reblogs legitimately makes me feel so special. i love love love you guys!!

give it a read if you haven’t already, it’s one of my favorites so far.

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

the way he loves you

Summary: The Dagger Squad starts to notice the subtle ways Jake Seresin shows his love for you, from quiet moments at home to stolen glances at the Hard Deck. As each of them pieces it together, they realize Jake isn’t just Hangman—he’s yours.

Warnings: use of Y/N, she/her, fluff.

Word count: 1121 (oops i got a bit carried away)

A/N: someone reposted my last “curious gazes” and requested one with all the daggers, and i’ve been thinking about it ever since. i finally got time to write it so i hope you enjoy, i’ve been loving these!!

***

Jake “Hangman” Seresin had a reputation for being bold and larger than life. To most, nothing more than a cocky, overconfident pilot, the kind of guy who never seemed to take life too seriously. But when the Daggers met you, they began to see a side of Jake they’d never expected—a side that made them realize there was far more to him than they ever realized.

And it happened in little moments, each one chipping away at the image of Hangman and revealing Jake.

***

Phoenix

Natasha had always been sharp. She could read people easily, and Jake was no exception. She’d noticed the changes in him before anyone else: how he wasn’t as quick to boast, how he lingered on his phone more often, smiling at something no one else could see.

Still, it wasn’t until that night at the Hard Deck that she put the pieces together.

Jake walked in with you by his side, and Natasha immediately noticed the way he looked at you. It wasn’t the casual charm he used on everyone else—it was softer, almost reverent.

“Guys, this is Y/N,” Jake said, his voice filled with a kind of pride that made Natasha blink in surprise.

You smiled and waved, introducing yourself as Jake’s girlfriend, though you didn’t need to. Natasha had already figured it out.

She watched as Jake stayed close to you all night, not in his usual attention-seeking way, but quietly, as if he couldn’t bear to let you out of his sight. When you laughed, he leaned in just a little closer. When you spoke, he listened like your words were the most important thing in the world.

Later, as Jake brushed a strand of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek and a soft smile, Natasha smirked and leaned over to Bob. “He’s gone.”

Bob

Bob Floyd noticed it in the details, in the quiet moments that others might overlook.

When Jake and you invited the squad over for dinner, Bob didn’t know what to expect. He’d never pictured Jake as the hosting type, but as he stepped into your cozy home, he could tell this was different.

“Make yourself at home,” you said warmly, handing Bob a glass of sweet tea.

Jake was in the kitchen, wearing an apron—an apron, of all things—as he stirred something on the stove. Bob couldn’t hide his surprise.

“You’re domesticated, Seresin,” Rooster teased, leaning against the counter.

Jake smirked without looking up. “Happy wife, happy life,” he said easily, earning a laugh from you.

“Not your wife yet,” you teased.

“Yet,” Jake said, glancing at you with a grin and tossing you a wink that made Bob’s chest ache with secondhand fondness.

Bob noticed the way you moved around each other, wordlessly passing utensils and dishes, finishing each other’s sentences. There was a quiet rhythm to it, a kind of unspoken understanding that came from deep love and trust.

When dessert came out, Jake set the plate in front of you first, brushing a kiss to your temple. Bob caught the way you smiled, the way Jake’s hand lingered on yours for just a moment longer than necessary.

Bob glanced at Phoenix, who raised her eyebrows knowingly. “That’s love,” she whispered, and Bob couldn’t agree more.

Rooster

Bradley Bradshaw noticed it during a pool game at the Hard Deck.

Jake had always been competitive, but tonight, he wasn’t playing to win against the squad—he was playing to impress you.

Every shot he made, he’d glance over at you, his grin widening when you clapped or cheered. But it wasn’t just the showmanship that caught Bradley’s attention. It was the way Jake handed you the pool cue, guiding you through your shots with a patience Bradley hadn’t thought him capable of.

“Am I doing this right?” you asked, laughing as you tried to line up your shot.

“You’re perfect,” Jake said softly, his voice so low that only you and Bradley heard.

Bradley rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at his lips. “You’re whipped, Seresin.”

“And happy about it,” Jake shot back, winking.

Bradley couldn’t argue with that.

Payback & Fanboy

Fanboy and Payback noticed it on the beach.

It was a rare day off, and the squad had decided to hit the sand for some football and relaxation. You’d tagged along, sitting under an umbrella with a book in hand while the others played.

Jake kept sneaking glances at you between plays, his grin growing every time you looked up and smiled.

When the game ended, Jake jogged over to you, dropping to his knees in the sand beside your chair. “Having fun?” he asked, brushing sand off his hands.

You smiled, closing your book. “Always, when I’m with you.”

Mickey nudged Reuben, jerking his chin toward the two of you. “Look at him. That’s not the Hangman we know.”

“Nope,” Reuben said with a grin. “That’s Jake. Big difference.”

Coyote

Javy had known from the beginning.

He’d been there when Jake first mentioned you, his voice tinged with something Javy hadn’t heard before: vulnerability. He’d watched as Jake navigated the early days of your relationship, unsure of himself in a way that was both endearing and rare.

At a barbecue one weekend, Javy pulled Jake aside, nodding toward you as you chatted with Phoenix and Bob.

“She’s good for you, man,” Javy said.

Jake nodded, his gaze fixed on you. “Yeah. She is.”

“You ever gonna tell her how whipped you are?” Javy teased.

Jake smirked. “She already knows, no need to say it.”

The Moment They All Realized

The squad’s collective realization came during another gathering at your house.

It was late, and the group was sprawled across the living room, laughing and swapping stories. You were in the kitchen, tidying up, when Jake disappeared without a word.

A few minutes later, he returned with a dish towel over his shoulder, carefully carrying a handful of freshly washed glasses.

“Need a hand, sweetheart?” he asked, walking straight to you.

The room went silent as the squad watched him press a kiss to your temple before helping you dry the dishes.

Phoenix broke the silence first. “Holy shit. He’s a househusband.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Jake looked over his shoulder with a smirk. “Jealous?”

“Absolutely,” Natasha said, grinning.

As the laughter died down, Javy raised his beer. “To Y/N,” he said.

You looked up, surprised. “To me?”

Javy nodded. “Yeah. You turned Hangman into Jake. And we love you for it.”

The squad cheered, and as Jake’s hand found yours, you squeezed it, your heart full.

Because while Jake might not have always been the loudest about his love, the people who mattered most could see it clear as day.

[randomfangirlof]

Here I am at Dunkin waiting for my coffee while reading this but internally screaming inside 🤭😍🤣

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

HAHA this actually made me giggle thank you so much hehe

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

not a chance

summary: jake seresin, from the day he was at his first wedding witnessing a grown man cry, swore that would never be him. why would he cry?…until his wedding rolled around.

wc: 496.

warnings: she/her, language (barely).

a/n: i’ve been wanting to write a little wedding fic for jake so bad and i finally got around to doing it because i missed you guys so so bad. i apologize for being so busy but i hope this makes up for it…i hope you love it 🥹💐.

**

Jake Seresin swore—swore—he would never be that guy.

He was eight years old the first time he saw a grown man cry at a wedding. His uncle had been standing at the altar, stiff-backed and composed, right up until the moment the bride appeared at the end of the aisle. Then, just like that, the man crumbled, wiping at his face like a kid who’d just skinned his knee.

Jake had tugged at his mother’s sleeve, whispering, “What the heck? That’s weird.”

His mom had only smiled, smoothing down his unruly blond hair. “One day, you’ll understand, sweetheart.”

No. He wouldn’t.

Jake Seresin did not cry. Not for scraped knees, not for breakups, not even for funerals. Emotions were meant to be kept in check, neatly folded away like his Navy dress whites.

**

Which is why, as he stood at the altar on his wedding day, he refused to be that guy.

Coyote, standing beside him as best man, had already predicted otherwise.

“You’re gonna cry, Hangman,” he’d said, clapping Jake on the shoulder before the ceremony started.

“Not a chance,” Jake had shot back, adjusting his cuffs.

Coyote had just grinned. “I got tissues in my pocket, just in case.”

Jake rolled his eyes.

And now, here he was—steady, controlled, completely fine.

Until the music changed.

Until everyone stood.

Until the doors at the end of the aisle opened, and there she was.

His girl. His wife-to-be.

Jake barely got the first glimpse of her before something tight wrapped around his chest, knocking the air clean out of his lungs.

He blinked once. Twice. Oh, hell no.

The dress was perfect, but it wasn’t the dress that did him in. It was her. The way she glowed like she was made of sunlight. The way her eyes found his instantly, like he was the only person in the world.

And just like that, he was gone.

His throat tightened. His vision blurred. No, no, no—A single tear slipped free before he could stop it.

Then another.

Shit.

He sucked in a sharp breath, jaw clenching.

Coyote let out a quiet snicker came from beside him.

Jake barely spared him a glance before a tissue was subtly pressed into his hand.

“Told you so, J” Coyote whispered.

Jake let out a shaky laugh, shaking his head, but he didn’t fight it anymore.

Because as his bride walked toward him, as the love of his life smiled at him like he was everything, he realized:

This? This was worth breaking his rule for.

**

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

manifesting

summary: from the moment he laid eyes on you, he just knew, and he’s only ever referred to you as his wife.

warnings: she/her, mention of bars (idk), fluff fluff fluff!

word count: 521.

a/n: long time no see! i knewww i had to write something and this idea has been stuck in my noggin for quite a while. happy valentine’s day and i hope you love it!

***

The first time Jake Seresin saw you, he knew.

He hadn’t even spoken to you yet—hadn’t had the chance. You were laughing at something your friend said, eyes crinkling at the corners as you leaned against the bar at the Hard Deck, completely unaware of the way Jake was standing there, beer halfway to his lips, suddenly frozen in place.

That’s my wife.

The thought came out of nowhere, knocking the breath out of his chest. It wasn’t like him to get caught off guard, but here he was, struck dumb in the middle of the bar, watching you exist like you were placed on this Earth just for him.

The worst part? He didn’t even have the nerve to walk up and say hello.

Oh, he tried. Multiple times. But every time he got close, you were either walking away, mid-conversation with someone else, or—God forbid—he chickened out at the last second. He, Jake Seresin, who had never been shy a day in his life, had turned into a complete coward over one woman.

Still, it never stopped him from calling you what he knew you were.

Over the next few weeks, his friends caught on.

“Hangman, who the hell are you looking for?” Rooster asked one night, watching as Jake’s eyes scanned the Hard Deck like he was on a mission.

“My wife,” he answered simply.

Natasha choked on her drink. “Your what?”

“My wife,” he repeated like it was obvious. “She’s usually here on Thursdays.”

Phoenix’s eyes narrowed. “You mean that girl you won’t even talk to?”

Jake gave her a slow, lazy grin. “Manifesting, darlin’.”

Natasha and Rooster exchanged looks, then promptly burst into laughter.

“You’re ridiculous,” Rooster muttered, shaking his head.

But Jake didn’t care. Because deep down, he knew it was only a matter of time.

—

Years later, Jake leaned against the kitchen counter of the house you now shared, watching as you laughed at him—full-on, doubled-over, tears-in-your-eyes laughing.

“Wait, wait—” You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. “You’re telling me that for months before we even spoke, you were going around calling me your wife?”

Jake shrugged, sipping his coffee like it wasn’t a big deal. “Worked, didn’t it?”

You gaped at him, still half-laughing, half-astonished. “Jake. You manifested our relationship.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying, sweetheart,” he said, ever so smug.

You shook your head, stepping closer until you were standing between his legs, hands resting on his chest. “So, let me get this straight—you saw me once, decided I was going to marry you, and just… ran with it?”

Jake set his coffee down and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Darlin’, the second I laid eyes on you, I knew there was no way in hell I was lettin’ you be anything but mine.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in them betrayed you. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” he said, brushing a kiss against your forehead. “But I was right, wasn’t I?”

You huffed a small laugh, leaning into him. “Yeah, yeah. You were right.”

Jake grinned, pressing his lips to yours. “Told ya.”

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

the way he loves you

Summary: The Dagger Squad starts to notice the subtle ways Jake Seresin shows his love for you, from quiet moments at home to stolen glances at the Hard Deck. As each of them pieces it together, they realize Jake isn’t just Hangman—he’s yours.

Warnings: use of Y/N, she/her, fluff.

Word count: 1121 (oops i got a bit carried away)

A/N: someone reposted my last “curious gazes” and requested one with all the daggers, and i’ve been thinking about it ever since. i finally got time to write it so i hope you enjoy, i’ve been loving these!!

***

Jake “Hangman” Seresin had a reputation for being bold and larger than life. To most, nothing more than a cocky, overconfident pilot, the kind of guy who never seemed to take life too seriously. But when the Daggers met you, they began to see a side of Jake they’d never expected—a side that made them realize there was far more to him than they ever realized.

And it happened in little moments, each one chipping away at the image of Hangman and revealing Jake.

***

Phoenix

Natasha had always been sharp. She could read people easily, and Jake was no exception. She’d noticed the changes in him before anyone else: how he wasn’t as quick to boast, how he lingered on his phone more often, smiling at something no one else could see.

Still, it wasn’t until that night at the Hard Deck that she put the pieces together.

Jake walked in with you by his side, and Natasha immediately noticed the way he looked at you. It wasn’t the casual charm he used on everyone else—it was softer, almost reverent.

“Guys, this is Y/N,” Jake said, his voice filled with a kind of pride that made Natasha blink in surprise.

You smiled and waved, introducing yourself as Jake’s girlfriend, though you didn’t need to. Natasha had already figured it out.

She watched as Jake stayed close to you all night, not in his usual attention-seeking way, but quietly, as if he couldn’t bear to let you out of his sight. When you laughed, he leaned in just a little closer. When you spoke, he listened like your words were the most important thing in the world.

Later, as Jake brushed a strand of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek and a soft smile, Natasha smirked and leaned over to Bob. “He’s gone.”

Bob

Bob Floyd noticed it in the details, in the quiet moments that others might overlook.

When Jake and you invited the squad over for dinner, Bob didn’t know what to expect. He’d never pictured Jake as the hosting type, but as he stepped into your cozy home, he could tell this was different.

“Make yourself at home,” you said warmly, handing Bob a glass of sweet tea.

Jake was in the kitchen, wearing an apron—an apron, of all things—as he stirred something on the stove. Bob couldn’t hide his surprise.

“You’re domesticated, Seresin,” Rooster teased, leaning against the counter.

Jake smirked without looking up. “Happy wife, happy life,” he said easily, earning a laugh from you.

“Not your wife yet,” you teased.

“Yet,” Jake said, glancing at you with a grin and tossing you a wink that made Bob’s chest ache with secondhand fondness.

Bob noticed the way you moved around each other, wordlessly passing utensils and dishes, finishing each other’s sentences. There was a quiet rhythm to it, a kind of unspoken understanding that came from deep love and trust.

When dessert came out, Jake set the plate in front of you first, brushing a kiss to your temple. Bob caught the way you smiled, the way Jake’s hand lingered on yours for just a moment longer than necessary.

Bob glanced at Phoenix, who raised her eyebrows knowingly. “That’s love,” she whispered, and Bob couldn’t agree more.

Rooster

Bradley Bradshaw noticed it during a pool game at the Hard Deck.

Jake had always been competitive, but tonight, he wasn’t playing to win against the squad—he was playing to impress you.

Every shot he made, he’d glance over at you, his grin widening when you clapped or cheered. But it wasn’t just the showmanship that caught Bradley’s attention. It was the way Jake handed you the pool cue, guiding you through your shots with a patience Bradley hadn’t thought him capable of.

“Am I doing this right?” you asked, laughing as you tried to line up your shot.

“You’re perfect,” Jake said softly, his voice so low that only you and Bradley heard.

Bradley rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at his lips. “You’re whipped, Seresin.”

“And happy about it,” Jake shot back, winking.

Bradley couldn’t argue with that.

Payback & Fanboy

Fanboy and Payback noticed it on the beach.

It was a rare day off, and the squad had decided to hit the sand for some football and relaxation. You’d tagged along, sitting under an umbrella with a book in hand while the others played.

Jake kept sneaking glances at you between plays, his grin growing every time you looked up and smiled.

When the game ended, Jake jogged over to you, dropping to his knees in the sand beside your chair. “Having fun?” he asked, brushing sand off his hands.

You smiled, closing your book. “Always, when I’m with you.”

Mickey nudged Reuben, jerking his chin toward the two of you. “Look at him. That’s not the Hangman we know.”

“Nope,” Reuben said with a grin. “That’s Jake. Big difference.”

Coyote

Javy had known from the beginning.

He’d been there when Jake first mentioned you, his voice tinged with something Javy hadn’t heard before: vulnerability. He’d watched as Jake navigated the early days of your relationship, unsure of himself in a way that was both endearing and rare.

At a barbecue one weekend, Javy pulled Jake aside, nodding toward you as you chatted with Phoenix and Bob.

“She’s good for you, man,” Javy said.

Jake nodded, his gaze fixed on you. “Yeah. She is.”

“You ever gonna tell her how whipped you are?” Javy teased.

Jake smirked. “She already knows, no need to say it.”

The Moment They All Realized

The squad’s collective realization came during another gathering at your house.

It was late, and the group was sprawled across the living room, laughing and swapping stories. You were in the kitchen, tidying up, when Jake disappeared without a word.

A few minutes later, he returned with a dish towel over his shoulder, carefully carrying a handful of freshly washed glasses.

“Need a hand, sweetheart?” he asked, walking straight to you.

The room went silent as the squad watched him press a kiss to your temple before helping you dry the dishes.

Phoenix broke the silence first. “Holy shit. He’s a househusband.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Jake looked over his shoulder with a smirk. “Jealous?”

“Absolutely,” Natasha said, grinning.

As the laughter died down, Javy raised his beer. “To Y/N,” he said.

You looked up, surprised. “To me?”

Javy nodded. “Yeah. You turned Hangman into Jake. And we love you for it.”

The squad cheered, and as Jake’s hand found yours, you squeezed it, your heart full.

Because while Jake might not have always been the loudest about his love, the people who mattered most could see it clear as day.

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

through her eyes

warnings: she/her used, different pov, use of Y/N, fluff

wc: 795.

a/n: okay i really love the way this came out and i had so much fun writing it! i wanted to give a “different perspective” storytelling a shot and i did my best to really capture how much jake loves his sweetheart! let me know what you think! <3

inspired by @erodasfishtacos “curious gazes”

***

The first time Jake Seresin stepped into the building, it was a quiet Tuesday afternoon. I was sitting at my desk, scrolling through emails and counting down the hours until my shift ended.

Then the front doors swung open, and in he walked.

I don’t think anyone could ignore him if they tried. Blond, tall, with a confident ease in the way he carried himself, like he didn’t just belong here—he belonged anywhere he set foot. He was wearing a crisp button-down and jeans that fit him too perfectly for someone who clearly didn’t overthink his wardrobe.

“Excuse me,” he said, flashing a polite smile as he approached my desk. “I’m looking for Y/N.”

There was something about his voice that matched his presence—warm and strong but not overbearing.

“She’s on the fourth floor,” I said, trying to match his calm demeanor. “Do you need me to call her down?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” he said with a short nod, and his smile deepened, the kind that made me think he was used to people bending over backward for him.

When Y/N came down, she looked surprised to see him. But the moment her eyes met his, something shifted. She didn’t even have to say anything—her whole face softened, like his presence alone was enough to ease whatever tension she’d been carrying.

“Jake,” she said, her voice quieter than I’d ever heard it.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he replied, and the way he said it left no room for doubt about who he was to her.

***

After that, Jake became a regular.

Sometimes he’d pop in unexpectedly, and other times he’d send Y/N a quick text to let her know he was on his way. Either way, I could always tell when he was coming—Y/N would suddenly seem lighter, smiling more often when she would have to come down on my floor for the occasional paperwork.

He was always kind to me, too.

“Hey there,” he’d say, greeting me like an old friend. “How’s it going today?”

And we’d chat for a few minutes while he signed the visitor log or waited for Y/N to wrap up a meeting. He’d ask me about my weekend, recommend a good barbecue spot he’d found, or joke about how he should just get a key to the building at this point.

But the most striking thing about Jake was the way he looked at Y/N.

It wasn’t just the obvious affection—the little smiles, the way he always leaned in when she spoke, the way he’d reach for her hand as soon as she appeared. It was the way he watched her when she didn’t notice, like she was the only thing that mattered in a room full of people.

One time, she was running late, and he ended up waiting at my desk for almost half an hour. He didn’t seem annoyed—just leaned against the counter, looking perfectly content to stand there.

“She’s worth the wait,” he said when I apologized for the delay.

***

Over time, I noticed how he’d settled into Y/N’s world seamlessly, like he’d always been there.

He didn’t just wait for her—he supported her. He’d bring her coffee when she had early meetings, offer to help carry her work bag, and even joke with her coworkers when they passed by.

“You’ve got a good one there,” one of her colleagues said to me once after Jake had left.

“Tell me about it,” I replied.

***

But what stuck with me most was the way he knew her, truly knew her.

One Friday afternoon, Y/N came downstairs looking unusually tired. She plastered on a smile, but Jake saw right through it.

“Long day?” he asked, his voice soft as he stepped toward her.

She nodded, letting out a sigh. “One of those weeks.”

Jake didn’t press for details—he just pulled her into a hug, holding her like he had all the time in the world.

“C’mon,” he said after a moment. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll take you to that taco truck you love.”

She laughed, and it was the kind of laugh that carried relief, like she already felt better just standing next to him.

By the time they walked out the door, I was smiling too.

Because if there was one thing I’d learned from watching Jake and Y/N over the months, it was this:

Love wasn’t just in the grand gestures or the big moments. It was in the little things—the way he looked at her, the way he listened, the way he made her feel like she was the most important person in the world.

And even from my spot at the front desk, it was clear as day that Jake Seresin loved her with everything he had.

[86laura11]

Omg this is amazing. I’d love to see the daggers perspective on how they watch him interact with her too. This is beautiful. He sees her so well and it really is true when you are loved you are seen. 😊

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

this is so sweet, thank you so much! i will definitely work on one with the daggers ☺️💐.

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

through her eyes

warnings: she/her used, different pov, use of Y/N, fluff

wc: 795.

a/n: okay i really love the way this came out and i had so much fun writing it! i wanted to give a “different perspective” storytelling a shot and i did my best to really capture how much jake loves his sweetheart! let me know what you think! <3

inspired by @erodasfishtacos “curious gazes”

***

The first time Jake Seresin stepped into the building, it was a quiet Tuesday afternoon. I was sitting at my desk, scrolling through emails and counting down the hours until my shift ended.

Then the front doors swung open, and in he walked.

I don’t think anyone could ignore him if they tried. Blond, tall, with a confident ease in the way he carried himself, like he didn’t just belong here—he belonged anywhere he set foot. He was wearing a crisp button-down and jeans that fit him too perfectly for someone who clearly didn’t overthink his wardrobe.

“Excuse me,” he said, flashing a polite smile as he approached my desk. “I’m looking for Y/N.”

There was something about his voice that matched his presence—warm and strong but not overbearing.

“She’s on the fourth floor,” I said, trying to match his calm demeanor. “Do you need me to call her down?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” he said with a short nod, and his smile deepened, the kind that made me think he was used to people bending over backward for him.

When Y/N came down, she looked surprised to see him. But the moment her eyes met his, something shifted. She didn’t even have to say anything—her whole face softened, like his presence alone was enough to ease whatever tension she’d been carrying.

“Jake,” she said, her voice quieter than I’d ever heard it.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he replied, and the way he said it left no room for doubt about who he was to her.

***

After that, Jake became a regular.

Sometimes he’d pop in unexpectedly, and other times he’d send Y/N a quick text to let her know he was on his way. Either way, I could always tell when he was coming—Y/N would suddenly seem lighter, smiling more often when she would have to come down on my floor for the occasional paperwork.

He was always kind to me, too.

“Hey there,” he’d say, greeting me like an old friend. “How’s it going today?”

And we’d chat for a few minutes while he signed the visitor log or waited for Y/N to wrap up a meeting. He’d ask me about my weekend, recommend a good barbecue spot he’d found, or joke about how he should just get a key to the building at this point.

But the most striking thing about Jake was the way he looked at Y/N.

It wasn’t just the obvious affection—the little smiles, the way he always leaned in when she spoke, the way he’d reach for her hand as soon as she appeared. It was the way he watched her when she didn’t notice, like she was the only thing that mattered in a room full of people.

One time, she was running late, and he ended up waiting at my desk for almost half an hour. He didn’t seem annoyed—just leaned against the counter, looking perfectly content to stand there.

“She’s worth the wait,” he said when I apologized for the delay.

***

Over time, I noticed how he’d settled into Y/N’s world seamlessly, like he’d always been there.

He didn’t just wait for her—he supported her. He’d bring her coffee when she had early meetings, offer to help carry her work bag, and even joke with her coworkers when they passed by.

“You’ve got a good one there,” one of her colleagues said to me once after Jake had left.

“Tell me about it,” I replied.

***

But what stuck with me most was the way he knew her, truly knew her.

One Friday afternoon, Y/N came downstairs looking unusually tired. She plastered on a smile, but Jake saw right through it.

“Long day?” he asked, his voice soft as he stepped toward her.

She nodded, letting out a sigh. “One of those weeks.”

Jake didn’t press for details—he just pulled her into a hug, holding her like he had all the time in the world.

“C’mon,” he said after a moment. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll take you to that taco truck you love.”

She laughed, and it was the kind of laugh that carried relief, like she already felt better just standing next to him.

By the time they walked out the door, I was smiling too.

Because if there was one thing I’d learned from watching Jake and Y/N over the months, it was this:

Love wasn’t just in the grand gestures or the big moments. It was in the little things—the way he looked at her, the way he listened, the way he made her feel like she was the most important person in the world.

And even from my spot at the front desk, it was clear as day that Jake Seresin loved her with everything he had.

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

little things

Summary: the small things that Jake does that differentiate him from "Hangman."

Warnings: NO use of y/n, she/her mentioned, established relationship

Word Count: 687

a/n: i really really love this one, i tried my best to capture my perception of jake! i hope you like it! :) reblogs, likes, and comments always appreciated <3.

***

Most people knew Jake as Hangman—cocky, confident, and never without a sarcastic quip ready for whatever challenge the world threw at him. In the skies, he was fearless, always a playful grin on his face. His reputation as an aviator was built on confidence, sharp skill, and an ego that matched his abilities. But, at home, when the door to your shared apartment clicked shut behind him, he was different. He was just Jake.

You had seen sides of him that the world never would. The small, tender things he did that no one could know but you. The things that made your heart swell without him ever realizing it.

It started with the little details—like when you came home after a long day and, no matter how tired and sore he was, he’d have dinner ready. It wasn’t some gourmet meal, just simple comfort food, but it was always exactly what you needed. As you walked through the door, you could smell it, the warmth of his effort filling the space before you even saw him.

“You’re late,” he’d joke, tossing you a mischievous grin over his shoulder as he stirred something in a pot. “Were you avoiding me again?”

“You know I’m not avoiding you, Seresin,” you’d say, crossing the room to wrap your arms around his waist. “Just had a long day.”

And there it was—the subtle shift. His hands would rest over yours for a moment before he’d lean back against you, taking a deep breath, like he was the one who needed this moment of calm, just as much as you did.

After dinner, when you’d lounge on the couch, he’d make sure to throw a blanket over you, even if it was just to watch TV or scroll through your phone. He wasn’t the type to show vulnerability in front of anyone else, but at home, there was a softness to him. Sometimes, when you reached for the remote, he’d catch your hand, fingers warm and steady. Without a word, he’d flip it to your favorite show—sometimes the same one you’d been watching all week—and lean back, content in the silence.

***

It wasn’t just the big gestures that made you fall deeper for him; it was the moments no one else would see. 

Or when you had a bad day, his way of comforting you wasn’t through words. Instead, he’d just pull you into his arms, his large hands brushing through your hair, holding you close until the tension melted from your shoulders. Sometimes he didn’t say a thing, just held you, knowing that was all you needed.

He’d get you a drink from your favorite place on his way home, he would grab your favorite snacks from the store without you asking, or leave notes on the bathroom mirror, small messages reminding you to have a good day or to take care of yourself. You never even had to ask for these things. They were just a part of him—quiet acts of love and care that made you realize how lucky you were to have him.

And even though he would always say it in a teasing way, there was no mistaking how much he meant it when he said, “I got your back, always.”

You could see it, in the way he’d lean over the counter when you were trying to figure out your day, his forehead furrowed in concentration, always making sure you had everything you needed, even when he was buried (sometimes suffocating) in his own responsibilities.

At home, Jake wasn’t Hangman. He wasn’t the confident, cocky aviator who ruled the skies. He was the man who tucked you into bed after a long day, who made sure your water bottle was filled before you fell asleep, who laughed at your jokes even when they were corny. And in those moments, when the world felt like too much, you knew you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

Because with Jake, it was the little things that made everything feel right.

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

then and now

Summary: Jake Seresin and Bradley Bradshaw’s rivalry turned into a friendship over the years. You, Jake’s high school sweetheart, watched their bond grow from complaints about Bradley’s mustache to mutual respect, showing you how much Jake had changed.

warnings: established relationship, she/her used, no use of y/n, character growth (???), FLUFF!

a/n: happy new year!! my first fic of 2025...wow! i have had so much fun with this blog and thank you for all the love!! :) i hope you enjoy this cute little read!! <3

w/c: 960.

***

Jake Seresin’s career had taken him to some amazing places, but coming home to you was still his favorite.

He stood in the doorway of your shared home, his bag dropped on the floor with a thud, his khaki uniform slightly wrinkled from the long trip. The moment he saw you coming down the hall with that familiar smile, everything else faded.

“Missed me, sweetheart?” he drawled, the corners of his mouth lifting into a grin.

“Always,” you said, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. Jake chuckled, gently rubbing the small of your back.

As you stepped back, brushing his hair out of his face, you caught the tired look in his eyes. “Rough trip?”

Jake groaned, tossing his keys onto the entryway table. “Rough doesn’t even begin to cover it. Do you know who I got stuck with the entire time? Bradley 'stupid mustache' Bradshaw.”

Your brow furrowed and a grin lifted onto your lips at the newfound nickname. “Bradley? Goose’s son?”

“The very same,” Jake replied, running a hand through his hair. “He’s so smug. He acts like he’s God’s gift to naval aviation. Walks around with that stupid mustache like he’s in an ‘80s movie.”

You laughed, patting his chest. “You mean like you walk around acting like God’s gift to, well, everything?”

Jake’s jaw dropped in mock offense. “Hey, that’s different. I actually am God’s gift to everything.”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head, but your smile gave you away. “What’s he done that’s got you so worked up?”

“Besides thinking he’s better than me at literally everything?” Jake started pacing, his hands gesturing wildly as he ranted. “He called me Hangman like it’s a bad thing, said I don’t have anyone’s back. Can you believe that? I’m a team player!”

You stifled another laugh, biting your lip. You’d known Jake since high school, long enough to know that his bravado was often just a cover for how much he really cared—about his work, his teammates, and, even when he wouldn’t admit it, his newfound rivalry with Bradley Bradshaw.

“You’re a lot of things, Jake,” you teased, “but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to actually try getting along with him?”

Jake scoffed, waving you off. “Not gonna happen.”

***

But over time, you watched that stance soften.

Years passed, and Jake’s stories about Bradley became less irritated and more… amused. By the time they were assigned to the same mission (and not just the occasional practice) in San Diego, the exasperation in his voice had been replaced with something suspiciously close to respect.

You caught on early, especially when Jake started calling Bradley by his callsign, Rooster. The first time he casually mentioned, “Rooster actually had my back in the air today,” you nearly dropped your mug.

“Wait, wait,” you interrupted, setting your coffee down. “You’re telling me Bradley ‘stupid mustache’ Bradshaw had your back? And you’re not complaining?”

Jake shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was trying to suppress a smile. “I’m just saying, the guy’s not entirely useless.”

“Wow,” you teased, leaning against the counter. “High praise coming from you.”

Jake rolled his eyes, but you could see the shift. By the time he was recounting the mission where he and Bradley worked seamlessly together to save their team, you knew something had changed.

“You know,” you said one evening, as Jake lay on the couch with his head in your lap, “I think you like him now.”

Jake groaned, covering his face with a pillow. “Don’t start, sweetheart.”

“I’m serious!” you insisted, laughing as you tugged the pillow away. “You two are practically inseparable now. Admit it—you’re friends.”

Jake peeked up at you, his green eyes soft. “I didn’t say we’re not friends. But don’t go telling him that, alright? I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

You laughed, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

***

The first time you saw Jake and Bradley joking together in person, you almost didn’t recognize them. It was during a barbeque on the beach in San Diego, the whole squad and their partners gathered around the fire pit.

Jake was standing beside Bradley, both of them laughing as they recounted some ridiculous story about their mission. The easy camaraderie between them was a far cry from the complaints you used to hear.

“Unreal, isn’t it?” Phoenix said, nudging you with her shoulder as she handed you a drink.

“What is?” you asked, though you already knew.

“Those two. They were at each other’s throats when this started. Now? Thick as thieves.”

You smiled, watching Jake throw his arm around Bradley’s shoulders, tugging him closer in a playful headlock. “It’s definitely been a journey.”

When Jake caught you watching, he grinned and motioned for you to join them. “C’mere, honey. Rooster’s trying to convince me he’s the reason we’re still alive.”

“Because I am!” Bradley called, holding up his beer.

You walked over, shaking your head fondly. “I can’t believe this. Jake Seresin, willingly standing this close to Bradley Bradshaw? I think I need to sit down,” you say, dramatically feeling your forehead with the back of your hand.

Jake rolled his eyes, pulling you into his side. “Don’t let it go to your head, darlin’. I’m just humoring him.”

Bradley smirked. “Yeah, okay, Hangman. Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

As they launched into another round of playful banter, you leaned into Jake’s side, your heart full. Watching their friendship grow had been funny, sure, but it also reminded you of just how much Jake had grown over the years. From the cocky high school boy you fell in love with to the man standing beside you now, he’d built something meaningful—not just with you, but with the people who mattered most.

And if he occasionally complained about Bradley just to keep up appearances, well, that was fine by you.

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

any other day

Summary: a chance encounter at a farmer's market leads to an unexpected connection between you and Jake Seresin, reminding you that sometimes the best things happen when you least expect them.

Word Count: 793.

Warnings: mild awkwardness. straight fluff hehe. use of she/her. NO use of y/n.

***

If it had been any other day, she would have missed it.

Any other day, she wouldn’t have been at the farmer’s market at all. Her Saturday mornings were usually reserved for errands or sleeping in. But something about the crisp, San Diego air tugged her out of bed and into the lively buzz of the market. Maybe it was the way the sky stretched, an uninterrupted canvas of blue, or the whisper of autumn in the breeze that felt too perfect to waste indoors. 

She wandered through the rows of stalls, her canvas tote growing heavy with fresh flowers and produce. The air smelled of roasted coffee beans from a nearby booth, mingling with the faint sweetness of late-season apples.

She turned a corner near the baked goods stall, distracted by the scent of cinnamon, and that’s when she saw him.

Jake Seresin.

Not that she knew his name yet, but the man was impossible to miss. He stood beside a stand selling jars of honey, and laughing with an older vendor who gestured animatedly to the rows of golden jars. The sound of his laugh carried, low and warm, like the hum of a favorite song.

It wasn’t just his laugh that caught her attention. It was the way he looked like he belonged in the golden glow of the morning–his olive green jacket rolled at the sleeves, jeans worn just right, and a baseball cap tugged low over sun-kissed blonde hair. He was casually leaning on the stall’s counter, listening intently as the vendor spoke, but something about the way he carried himself felt magnetic.

If it had been any other day, she wouldn’t have stopped to watch. But today, she lingered just a second longer, captivated.

It was in that second that his head turned, as if he’d sensed her gaze. His blue-green eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

She almost looked away–almost–but then he smiled. A slow, easy smile that made her breath catch in her throat.

Her lips quirked into a smile before she could help it. He straightened from his lean. He glanced at the jar in his hand, then back at her. “You ever had this stuff? It’s ridiculously good. They let you taste it if you ask nicely,” he teases, his voice carrying easily across the few feet of space between them.

“You’ve convinced me,” she says with a shrug of her shoulder, adjusting the canvas tote, stepping closer toward the stand. The vendor grinned and handed her a tiny wooden spoon with a dab of honey on it. She tasted it, and the sweetness bloomed across her tongue like sunlight.

“Okay, you were right,” she admitted. “That’s good.”

“Told you,” Jake said, grin widening.

They fell into an easy rhythm, talking as the vendor busied himself with other customers. Jake introduced himself and she found herself smiling more than she had in weeks.

“You come here often?” she asked, mimicking his casual stance by the counter.

“Every now and then,” he replied. “Usually when I need to bribe my sister with something sweet.”

“That’s thoughtful of you,” she said, raising a brow.

He shrugged, a little sheepish. “More like self-preservation. She gets pretty scary if I forget for her birthday.”

She laughed, the sound light and effortless, and Jake looked like he’d just won a small victory.

They chatted for a while longer, the conversation flowing so naturally that she lost track of time. When she finally glanced at her watch, she realized she’d been standing there for nearly twenty minutes.

“I should probably keep moving,” she said reluctantly.

Jake hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right. Yeah, don’t let me keep you.”

But just as she turned to go, he called after her.

“Wait–uh, before you go…”

She paused, looking back at him expectantly.

Jake shifted on his feet, the faintest trace of nervousness flickering across his once-confident demeanor. “Would it be weird if I asked for your number? I mean, only if you’re okay with it. No pressure,” he gets out quickly.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she managed to shake her head and keep her voice steady. “Not weird at all.” 

Relief washed over is face, and he pulled out his phone, handing it to her with a grin. As she typed in her number, she couldn’t help but think about how close she’d come to missing this moment. If she’d stayed home, if she’d turned the other way, if she’d stopped when she did–she never would have met Jake Seresin.

But she had stopped.

And as she walked away, her phone buzzing with a text from Jake moments later, she realized this might just have been the start of something extraordinary.

***

A/N: thanks for reading! i hope you liked this little thought i had today, i think meet-cutes are so fun to write. let me know what you think! :)

[sere-sins]

Ok you convinced me. I really need to go to a farmer's market 😃

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

🥹☺️

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

winning them over

Summary: Jake Seresin nervously meets your best friends for the first time at dinner, trying his best to impress them. Despite his initial jitters, he charms them with his humor and earns their approval, feeling proud to be part of your world.

warnings: she/her mentioned, established relationship.

Wordcount: 706.

***

Jake Seresin had faced dogfights, high-pressure training missions, and his fair share of risky maneuvers in the air, but nothing had him sweating quite like this. Sitting next to you in the car, his hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary as he navigated to the restaurant where he’d be meeting your closest friends for the first time.

“You’re quiet,” you said, a teasing smile playing on your lips. You reached over, resting your hand on his arm. “What’s going on in that handsome head of yours?”

“Nothing,” he replied quickly, his voice an octave higher than usual. He cleared his throat, trying to sound more casual. “Just… focused on driving.”

You tilted your head, seeing right through him. “Jake, it’s just dinner. They’re going to love you.”

He shot you a quick glance, his lips twitching into a half-smile. “I know. I just want to make a good impression. These are your people. You’ve known them forever, and it… it means a lot that you want me to meet them.”

You squeezed his arm gently. “You already mean the world to me, Jake. They’ll see what I see. Just be yourself.”

Easier said than done, Jake thought as he pulled into the parking lot. He let out a slow breath, straightening his shirt before stepping out of the car and opening your door. The two of you walked into the restaurant, and he mentally prepared himself for the gauntlet ahead.

***

The moment your friends spotted you, a chorus of excited greetings filled the air. Jake tried to keep his cool as you hugged each of them, introducing him with a proud smile.

“Ladies, this is Jake,” you said, your hand slipping into his. “Jake, this is Emily, Sarah, and Mia.”

Jake offered his most charming smile, the one that had disarmed so many before. “It’s great to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about all of you.”

“Oh, we’ve heard a lot about you too,” Emily said, her eyes glinting with playful curiosity. “All good things, don’t worry.”

The table erupted into laughter, and Jake relaxed—a little. He took a seat beside you, your knee brushing against his under the table, and felt a bit steadier knowing you were right there.

As the evening went on, Jake realized he’d been nervous for nothing. Your friends were warm, funny, and welcoming, and he found himself genuinely enjoying their company. They asked about his work, his hobbies, and—to his surprise—his favorite rom-coms.

“When Harry Met Sally, obviously,” Jake said, earning approving nods from Sarah and Mia.

“Good choice,” Sarah said. “You’re off to a solid start, Seresin.”

He glanced at you, catching the proud smile you gave him, and felt his chest swell. He’d been so worried about impressing them, but it hit him then that they weren’t just testing him. They genuinely cared about you and wanted to see you happy—and that made him want to try even harder.

By the time dessert arrived, Jake felt like part of the group. He even joined in teasing Emily about her questionable dating history, which had everyone in stitches. When the check came, he subtly slid his card to the server, earning a playful glare from Mia.

“Okay, Jake,” she said, crossing her arms. “We’ll allow it this time. But next time, it’s on us.”

“Deal,” Jake said, grinning.

As you walked back to the car later, Jake let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Well, how’d I do?” he asked, sliding an arm around your waist.

“You were perfect,” you said, leaning into him. “They loved you, Jake. And I love you.”

His steps faltered slightly at your words, but he recovered quickly, pulling you closer. “I love you too,” he said, his voice soft. “Thanks for letting me be part of this. Your friends are great.”

“They’re going to ask when we’re getting married, you know,” you teased.

Jake laughed, but his eyes sparkled with something deeper. “Well, when that day comes, I’ll be ready for their approval.”

And with that, Jake Seresin—always cool, always confident—felt more at ease than ever, knowing he’d not only won over your heart but the hearts of the people who mattered most to you.

***

a/n: okay i actually love this one so much! this thought came to me when i was driving home a few days ago and of course i just had to write it. i hope you enjoy! :)

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

any other day

Summary: a chance encounter at a farmer's market leads to an unexpected connection between you and Jake Seresin, reminding you that sometimes the best things happen when you least expect them.

Word Count: 793.

Warnings: mild awkwardness. straight fluff hehe. use of she/her. NO use of y/n.

***

If it had been any other day, she would have missed it.

Any other day, she wouldn’t have been at the farmer’s market at all. Her Saturday mornings were usually reserved for errands or sleeping in. But something about the crisp, San Diego air tugged her out of bed and into the lively buzz of the market. Maybe it was the way the sky stretched, an uninterrupted canvas of blue, or the whisper of autumn in the breeze that felt too perfect to waste indoors. 

She wandered through the rows of stalls, her canvas tote growing heavy with fresh flowers and produce. The air smelled of roasted coffee beans from a nearby booth, mingling with the faint sweetness of late-season apples.

She turned a corner near the baked goods stall, distracted by the scent of cinnamon, and that’s when she saw him.

Jake Seresin.

Not that she knew his name yet, but the man was impossible to miss. He stood beside a stand selling jars of honey, and laughing with an older vendor who gestured animatedly to the rows of golden jars. The sound of his laugh carried, low and warm, like the hum of a favorite song.

It wasn’t just his laugh that caught her attention. It was the way he looked like he belonged in the golden glow of the morning–his olive green jacket rolled at the sleeves, jeans worn just right, and a baseball cap tugged low over sun-kissed blonde hair. He was casually leaning on the stall’s counter, listening intently as the vendor spoke, but something about the way he carried himself felt magnetic.

If it had been any other day, she wouldn’t have stopped to watch. But today, she lingered just a second longer, captivated.

It was in that second that his head turned, as if he’d sensed her gaze. His blue-green eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

She almost looked away–almost–but then he smiled. A slow, easy smile that made her breath catch in her throat.

Her lips quirked into a smile before she could help it. He straightened from his lean. He glanced at the jar in his hand, then back at her. “You ever had this stuff? It’s ridiculously good. They let you taste it if you ask nicely,” he teases, his voice carrying easily across the few feet of space between them.

“You’ve convinced me,” she says with a shrug of her shoulder, adjusting the canvas tote, stepping closer toward the stand. The vendor grinned and handed her a tiny wooden spoon with a dab of honey on it. She tasted it, and the sweetness bloomed across her tongue like sunlight.

“Okay, you were right,” she admitted. “That’s good.”

“Told you,” Jake said, grin widening.

They fell into an easy rhythm, talking as the vendor busied himself with other customers. Jake introduced himself and she found herself smiling more than she had in weeks.

“You come here often?” she asked, mimicking his casual stance by the counter.

“Every now and then,” he replied. “Usually when I need to bribe my sister with something sweet.”

“That’s thoughtful of you,” she said, raising a brow.

He shrugged, a little sheepish. “More like self-preservation. She gets pretty scary if I forget for her birthday.”

She laughed, the sound light and effortless, and Jake looked like he’d just won a small victory.

They chatted for a while longer, the conversation flowing so naturally that she lost track of time. When she finally glanced at her watch, she realized she’d been standing there for nearly twenty minutes.

“I should probably keep moving,” she said reluctantly.

Jake hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right. Yeah, don’t let me keep you.”

But just as she turned to go, he called after her.

“Wait–uh, before you go…”

She paused, looking back at him expectantly.

Jake shifted on his feet, the faintest trace of nervousness flickering across his once-confident demeanor. “Would it be weird if I asked for your number? I mean, only if you’re okay with it. No pressure,” he gets out quickly.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she managed to shake her head and keep her voice steady. “Not weird at all.” 

Relief washed over is face, and he pulled out his phone, handing it to her with a grin. As she typed in her number, she couldn’t help but think about how close she’d come to missing this moment. If she’d stayed home, if she’d turned the other way, if she’d stopped when she did–she never would have met Jake Seresin.

But she had stopped.

And as she walked away, her phone buzzing with a text from Jake moments later, she realized this might just have been the start of something extraordinary.

***

A/N: thanks for reading! i hope you liked this little thought i had today, i think meet-cutes are so fun to write. let me know what you think! :)

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

oh my god this is so cute and so.... real??? like, it's life. it's literally something so true and so believable that it could happen to me tomorrow. I don't think I realised how much I missed that in fanfics, most of them are so.... well, fictional. this is a lovely change of pace ✨

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

this is so sweet! thank you and i’m glad you liked it! 🥹

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

at the heart of it all

Summary: you’re Jake’s date to a family wedding, where every moment highlights the quiet love the two of you share.

Word Count: 544.

Warnings: established relationship, no use of y/n, fluff (duh).

***

The warm buzz of laughter and music filled the backyard, lights strung across the trees casting a soft glow over the wedding party. Jake stood next to you, his hand resting on the small of your back, a grounding weight amidst the cheerful chaos.

“You okay?” he murmured, leaning down so his voice reached only you.

You nodded, the corner of your mouth tugging into a smile. “I’m good.”

Jake’s green eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he grinned. “You’re lying,” he teased lightly, his tone affectionate. “C’mon, darlin’, they’re my family. You’ve met them countless times. They’re harmless.”

“Harmless? The same people who’ve already shared six embarrassing stories about you?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

Jake chuckled, the deep sound making your chest feel tight. “Okay, fair. But if they get too rowdy, just let me know and I’ll throw ‘em off the dance floor.”

You laughed, leaning into him slightly, the warmth of his presence calming your nerves. Jake pressed a quick kiss to your temple before stepping back to adjust his tie.

“Here,” you said, reaching up. “Let me.”

He stilled as your fingers deftly straightened the knot, his eyes fixed on your face with an expression so soft. “What would I do without you?” he asked, his voice low and sincere.

“Probably show up looking like a mess,” you teased, patting his chest once the tie was in place.

Jake’s smirk returned. “Good thing I’ve got you then.”

***

The reception was in full swing by the time Jake guided you back to your seats, a plate of food in his hands. “Here,” he said, placing it in front of you. “You haven’t eaten anything all night yet.”

“Jake, I-”

“No arguments,” he interrupted, shooting you a playful look. “I know how you get when you’re nervous, and I’m not letting you faint somewhere like this.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that crept onto your face. “Thanks.”

“Always,” he replied, brushing his fingers against yours as he handed you a fork.

***

Later, as the two of you stood with a group of Jake’s cousins, he kept a steady hand on your back, his thumb tracing small circles that only you seemed to notice. When someone directed a question your way, Jake gave you a subtle, gentle nudge, his eyes meeting yours with an encouraging warmth.

You took a breath and began to answer the question, and Jake’s expression melted into something tender. Even in a crowd, he had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room.

***

As the night wound down, you found yourselves swaying together on the dance floor. Jake’s arms were wrapped around you, holding you close as the music slowed.

“Thanks for coming with me,” he said, voice soft against your ear.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you replied, resting your head on his shoulder.

Jake’s hand slid up to cup your cheek, tilting your face toward his. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m not letting go.”

Your lips met in a kiss that felt like a promise, a reminder of the love that had brought you here–to this moment, this new second family, this life you were building together.

***

A/N: i had soooo much fun writing this, i feel like i’ve enjoyed writing the meet-cutes but wanted to give a more “established” relationship a try! i hope you liked it!!