now that i am a real adult i am starting to realise. media lied to me about the availability of rooftops to go hang out on. every day i wish i could be hanging out on a rooftop somewhere looking cool as fuck
‘bread is bad for you’ ‘rice is bad for you’ sorry im not subscribing to the idea that staple grains that have been integral to cultures for centuries are evil. i love you carbs
because let´s be honest, we have all thought about that at some point.🦇
(this is the introduction of my new drabble universe!!! I can´t tell you how fucking excited I am.)
it would be wrong to say that your life was boring before you met the three idiots you now call your roommates.
sure, it wasn´t as exciting, but you had your tiny little apartment, went out with friends once in a while and mostly enjoyed having your own space and routines.
but then shit hits the fan.
and by shit I mean your landlord.
because of a loophole in the rental agreement, he´s able to kick you out of your apartment with only a months notice.
in other words, you´re fucked.
or, as your best friend Feyre, who you met the first week of orientation and became inseperable with, says -
"That bastard." Feyre´s eyes are stormy.
"What the hell am I gonna to do?" You bury your face in your hands, your voice muffled when you mumble: "How am I supposed to find a new apartment in a few weeks? For this one, I looked over a year, and it´s a glorified shoebox!" Your voice rises as you feel a wave of dread crash over you and your heart rising into your throat.
"Hey, it´s okay. If worst comes to worst, you can crash at my place,", Feyre raises her brows, "even though we´d have to share my bed, but - I won´t just let you crash on a park bench if that´s what you´re worried about. Unless you find another glorified shoebox that´s technically out of your budget, it´s you and me, crashing on my bed, climbing over your stuff to get to the bathroom, finding out what married life would feel like."
even though you love her to death, that really doesn´t sound like an option you want to explore.
so you try everything.
scouring every paper for apartment advertisments, posting on your uni´s socials, going to all the viewings you can find -
nothing.
but the day you´re ready to just give up, a miracle happens
the miracle is 5´5, has impeccable style and hair, a love for deep red lipstick and drops by for lunch.
Mor has been your friend for two years now, since you almost spilled your coffee over her laptop at the library.
she´s still not letting you live that down.
she also likes to get you out of your comfort zone
"Are you serious?" Mor stares at you wide eyed.
"Yep." You tiredly stir your coffee. "I´ve been turned away for twenty apartments in the past few days alone. I´m aready seeing myself bunking with Feyre. She offered, but her bed barely fits into her apartment as it is."
Mor breathes a giggle before hastily clearing her throat. "Sorry."
You grin weakly before rubbing your face. "I don´t know what I´m gonna do. I know it could be even worse, but -"
"It already feels pretty shitty,", Mor ends. You sigh in confirmation and are about to change the topic, because you haven´t seen the blonde in weeks and feel bad about ruining your lunch, but before you can open your mouth, Mor suddenly squints in thought. Then she looks at you.
"How much do you value your privacy?
Given the fact you´ll be basically on the street by next month if you don´t find a new place - not much.
Mor begins to grin, and there´s a bright twinkle in her eyes.
"Well, then I might just have the solution."
the next day, Mor drags you downtown.
she takes you to an old but sophisticated building you wouldn´t even dream about living in.
a single month´s rent there would probably empty your whole bank account, but Mor just winks and pulls you up the stairs. on the third floor, a guy leans in an open door.
and that´s how you meet Rhys.
Mor´s cousin is annoyingly beautiful; tall, with perfectly tousled dark hair, a grin that causes his cheeks to crease and broad shoulders.
he´s also even more annoyingly charming.
if you´d met him somewhere without Mor, you would have probably gaped for a moment before catching onto the mischievous twinkle in his nearly violet eyes and promptly avoided him, because someone that pretty had to have some fault.
as it turns out, Rhys´ fault is offering practical strangers to live with him without batting an eye.
"What?" You blink at Mor from where you just sank onto the very comfortable couch, because she can't possibly -
"Okay, before you freak out, just listen, okay?" Mor is grinning giddily. "The guys have a free room they don´t really use anyway and you really need a new place - so you could just move in here!" She beams. "The place is definitely big enough, and you´d fit in perfectly, I promise! They´re just as chaotic as you, but also very responsible -"
"Mostly." Rhys´ eyes are twinkling. He´s looking completely unbothered by the prospect of you, a factual stranger, moving in with him.
"- they don´t have any bad habits, they´re fairly neat -"
"Mostly."
Mor widens her eyes at you. "It´s perfect!"
You blink at her.
"I already talked to my roommates." Rhys´ deep voice is almost soothing, because he sounds a lot calmer than Mor, more steady and reassuring. "If you want, this can be temporary, until you find a place just for yourself, but this way you don´t have to stress about needing to find a place in a certain time, plus,", he cracks a grin, "I don´t like the idea of you having to crash on somebody´s couch in the foreseeable future, that´s just bullshit if we got a free room here no one uses anway. And if this works,", one corner of his lips quirks even more until his grin is a lot closer to the wicked twinkle in his eyes, "none of us would mind another roommate."
"You don´t have to decide right now." Mor smiles brightly. "But I think it would be great, and you´d make a bargain with the rent, because Rhys loves to play sugar daddy -", her cousin snorts, "and I think this would be a really good idea." She grins, suddenly a little sheepish.
if you weren´t so desperate, you would whip out about a dozen arguments about why this probably isn´t a good idea.
like the fact that rooming with three dudes sounds like a lot of testosteron, or that you don't even know them, and that they don´t even know you -
but from the way Rhys lounges in his chair, grinning easily as Mor beams at you, he doesn´t seem to see too much of a problem in that.
also you are very, very desperate.
but there´s still that one thing -
"About those roommates -"
When you hear the door, you raise your head, your heart doing a slightly concerning flip in your chest.
Rhys has already given you a tour of the apartment. Even though it´s huge and very grand with it´s high ceilings decorated with stucco and the original hardwood floors, it feels warm and cozy. The room you´d be sleeping in is as big as your whole apartment, light with two big window and a view of the trees on the street outside.
It kind of makes you wonder where the catch is.
Maybe it´s about to walk through the door.
You hear a deep voice and heavy footsteps, then a dude appears in the door to the kitchen, and you feel your lips open a bit. Because frankly, it´s a miracle he makes it through the door without hitting his head.
The guy´s huge. His shoulders and chest strain against his t-shirt. He looks like one of those dudes who basically got muscle in their DNA, all corded muscle under ridiculously huge shoulders and a solid middle, muscular long legs under black jeans -
Aaaand you´re staring.
Big time.
The dude´s looking over his shoulder, the half of his hair that isn´t pulled back in a bun brushing against his neck when he grins, his cheeks creasing. He´s pretty, in a rugged kinda way, with his rough curved jaw and the scar on the side of his face, and when he looks back ahead, his eyes twinkle warmly.
Behind him, another guy appears in the doorway, and your breath hitches.
Because if Rhys is annoyingly beautiful, the guy in the door is drop-dead gorgeous.
Just like the other two, he´s tall and all lean muscle. His shoulders shift under his black t-shirt as he leans against the doorframe, his hands sliding into the pockets of his black jeans. His eyes look like amber, his dark hair is tousled, a strand curving over his forehead. His face is all angles and soft lips, dark brows that look like he likes to crunch them in a scowl, but right now, he looks fairly relaxed, though his gaze his watchful.
And on yours.
Feeling warmth wash into your cheeks, you hastily look away while crap, crap, crap echoes through your head, because of course he caught you staring.
On to a really great start here, weirdo.
Your gaze grazes his hands and a bit of slightly uneven skin that merges into veiny, tan forearms before your eyes trail over the tattoos peaking out from his sleeves.
There´s the sound of someone clearing their throat, and you feel the heat in your cheeks deepen when your eyes dart up and meet Rhys', a twinkle in his iris when he sends you a lazy grin.
"Boys, this is Y/N." He raises a brow. "Our new roommate."
and that´s how you meet Cassian and Azriel.
it almost makes you reconsider, because you're not sure you´re gonna survive rooming with three guys that pretty.
but after thinking it over for a few days, you realize that you really don´t have a choice.
and so a week later, Rhys and Cassian come over to your apartment to help you move the first half of your stuff.
neither blink an eye at the fact it's about the size of a broom closet in comparison to theirs, which puts you a little more at ease.
Rhys does however scowl when he sees the condition of the bathroom.
you're ready to sink into the floor when you hastily explain pretty much all the apartments in the building look like that, a lil dingy and moldy.
but when he turns, he just glowers and grumbles under his breath about how he´d like to rip your landlord a new one.
it's the first time you realize that under all the aloofness and swagger and cheeky grins, Rhys cares.
(it´s proven again when you move into your new room a week later, because there's a new mattress on the also new bed bed. you haven´t bought either of them, but when you try to protest, Rhys just huffs about your back probably being fucked up because of your old one and says he´d add it to your rent.)
(he doesn't.)
you get used to rooming with three guys surprisingly quick.
sure, it is pretty much a total 180; going from living alone in a tiny apartment to sharing a huge flat with three dudes who make the place vibrate with laughter and bicker like they have been married for thirty years.
but even though you never thought you´d be the type to actually enjoy having roommates, you find that with them, you don´t really mind.
of course it is nice to have the place to yourself sometimes. after about two weeks, you´re comfortable enough to blast your music and dance through the kitchen when you're alone.
(yes, at some point, they catch you. it takes you about a minute to realize there are three guys standing in the doorway, watching you dance with a broom. you get a mild heart attack and Cassian and Rhys lose their shit while Azriel grins at you.)
but even if usually always someone is there, you find that the guys are very good at both respecting your boundaries and leaving you be when you need to curl up in your room as well as knowing when you need someone to drag your ass out into the world.
and something about knowing at least one of them will probably be there when you get home makes you feel all warm and fuzzy.
even if you weren´t completely sure about this in the beginning, you get roped into living with the three guys instead of just rooming with them.
it really starts with Cassian.
he probably gets used to you living there the quickest
after barely a week, he´s treating you like you´ve lived with them since the beginning.
one day he just sticks his head into your room and ropes you into helping him with dinner
it surprises you a little that they all have dinner together
from what you´ve heard from friends who have roommates, they usually all do their own thing most of the time
but it´s one of the first times you realise that these guys are more family than just friends
and for some reason, they´re really not hesitant at all for you to join them
Cassian is surprisingly easy to talk to.
he´s quick with the quips and the banter
he´s also very flirtatious and constantly makes you laugh, his deep, boisterous chuckles very infectous.
it´s one of the reasons you get comfortable with him so quickly
the other is how affectionate he is
(you´re convinced that the man is actually just a big teddybear)
after just a few weeks, you´re used to hugs that rip you off your feet, cheek kisses as greetings and being casually lifted out of the way like you don´t weigh anything
it´s the same with the others
hugs in greeting that make Rhys groan dramatically like his air supply is cut off, pats on the shoulder and smacking forehead kisses that make Azriel crinkle his nose
(you´re still sure you see his lips twitch)
Cassian quickly becomes the one you go to when you need advice.
he always listens attentively
doesn´t sugarcoat things
stays objective while never making you feel bad or less about anything
you know he´d put everything aside if any of you ever need help
Cass works at a gym to earn some money at the side
once, he takes you with him just for fun.
then one time becomes another and before you know it, you tag along twice a week
(it would be wrong to say it´s not doing something to you when he crouches in front of you, his deep voice rumbling as he mumbles encouragements.
"Alright, come on, sweetheart, gimme one more." - "There you go, that´s it." - "No, no, come on, you can do it." - "Just one more, you´re doing good, okay?"
you´re pretty sure he does it on purpose just to see how red you can get.)
but even if you being flustered is entertaining to him, Cassian not once makes you feel uncomfortable.
he´s really good at pushing you without overdoing it, always gentle and encouraging.
if you manage to do something, he´s grins so widely you´re almost sure he´s more proud of you than you are
Rhys is a flirt.
after you get over the first initial blush that just won't leave you alone for the first few weeks, it actually becomes entertaining.
now bantering back and forth is basically all you do.
it gets so bad, Azriel constantly rolls his eyes at you, but you´re pretty sure he´s amused from the way his lips twitch.
but just like you suspected, behind all the flirtiness and mischievous grins, Rhys cares.
a lot.
whenever you´re upset, he looks like he´s contemplating ripping apart whatever or whoever made you upset
whenever someone has a go at Cass or Azriel, Rhys picks them apart with lethal precision and a wicked smile
if Cassian is most affectionate, Rhys is close second.
he´s slightly more casual about it, pinching your nose, flicking your ear softly
though his hugs are definitely up there as well
whenever you get your period, Rhys turns full mother hen
it´s actually quite entertaining to see a 6-foot-something dude grumble because you don´t want to take painkillers
"I just don´t like to take them until it´s really necessary, okay?" You glower at Rhys, curling up on the couch and trying to suppress a wince.
Rhys incredulously narrows his eyes. "You´re bleeding from your uterus and look like you want to curl into the couch, I´d say it is pretty necessary."
behind all the snark and arrogance, Rhys cares.
he also seems to have a rather unhealthy tendency to put everyone else first.
you catch on pretty easily that even though his parents are loaded, Rhys doesn´t particularly cares about their money. in fact, he doesn´t hesitate to share whatever money his father pumps into his bank accounts.
when you ask Mor about it, she just smiles lopsidedly.
"It´s his kind of protest? Spending all that money, preferably on his friends? He knows he can´t win against his father. I think he came to terms with having to take over the business one day, and he cares about the people who have their jobs there, so he won't let them down. It´s just hard sometimes, if your whole life is already planned for you. Doing this, living with Cassian and Azriel and now you, spending his fathers money on them and sometimes splurging a little - it's his way of not surrendering completely."
Rhys has a knack of knowing exactly when you need to talk and when you need to be distracted
it´s not unusual that after a bad day, he just joins you on the couch, plopping down and pulling your feet onto his lap
it either leads to you venting and him listening, giving very appropriate responses of either huffs, scowls or downright glowering
or, if you don´t want to talk, he either lets you use him as a human pillow, grumbling over your choice of movie while scratching your head or he takes you out
Rhys is a foodie
you suspect it might come from him growing up with the fanciest meals
if he decides the two of you need to get out of the apartment, one way or another, it usually ends in a restaurant
he orders half the menu, and then the both of you pig out
his cooking is the best out of all of you
when there are holidays you spend together, he usually whips up the fanciest, most delicious far-too-many-courses meal
and even if he just makes dinner, you often get lured into the kitchen by the delicious smells
it usually ends up with you on the couch at the table while Rhys moves around the kitchen and you two talk about everything and nothing
he´s also not above slapping anyone´s hand away if they try to sneak a taste
Azriel is quiet.
not shy; you catch onto that pretty quickly
he's too quick and easy on any dry remark in response to his friends' boisterous teasing for that, his gaze too firm and piercing, and he rarely shies away when you catch his gaze
in the beginning, that intimidated the shit out of you
the way he appears without a sound, towering over you, all dark and quiet and brooding
but after a while, you realise that, even if he's all that, there´s something gentle and respectful about him
it surfaces in the smallest things
how his lips curve the softest bit when you grin up at him, how light and careful his touch is, how he always puts himself between you and the street, holds doors open without ever seeming to think twice about it. how everything about him seems to darken when he witnesses anyone being treated poorly and how even if anger rages within him like a rising tide, quiet and dangerous, you always feel safe with him.
maybe because he's so quiet, Azriel seems to see and hear everything.
in record time, he begins to catch onto every little detail about you.
mundane things
like how you like your tea or what your favorite ice cream is
the only reason you know he notices is because he hands you cup of teas in the morning that are exactly right and the freezer always holds a big container of your favorite ice cream.
he also seems to know exactly how how you fiddle when you're nervous, how when you get tired, you start to wrinkle your nose to keep yourself from yawning, what makes you giggle uncontrollably
it should probably unsettle you, how easily he sees through you
but it doesn't
sure, it's a bit weird at first
but you quickly realise it's strangely comforting - that someone pays enough attention to know even the smallest thing about you
Azriel is your favorite person to be around when you just need a break
it's like something about him is grounding, steady
being around him makes your thoughts calm down and it's easier for you to sort the chaos your mind sometimes becomes
you quickly realise that beneath all of the quiet watchfulness lies a wicked, dry sense of humor
more often than not, his mumbled remarks make you snort laughter or beam widely up at him, and it always makes his lips curve
when you first see his room, you almost gape
because the guy has books
they fill the shelves, balance in towers on the floor
most of the books in the shelves in the living room are his as well
he has a great dislike for movie adaptions
when you force him to watch one, he sits there with that scowl of his, glaring at you until it´s over
he says it destroys the pictures in his head
(to be fair, you don´t think he´s entirely wrong about that)
if he doesn´t have a book in his backpack, it's one of his cameras
he´s got a few, all older ones; none fancy digital ones, but all on film
just like he seems to catch onto everything, so does his camera
he captures everything, mundane things even more than staged ones
most of the time, you don´t even notice, only sometimes you raise your head to find the camera in his hands, a slight curve to his lips
he develops them himself, in a dark room on campus students can book
there´s usually a lot of bugging involved before he shows the developed pictures
Rhys standing in the kitchen, grinning over his shoulder like Cassian just made a joke
you and Feyre, laughing so hard you lean into each other
Mor, lying upside down on the couch while focusing on the cards in her hand while you're next to her, mid-motion, a focused expression on your face
Cassian napping on the couch, twisted in a very uncomfortable position to fit all six feet something onto the cushions
there seems to be an endless number, and they´re all carefully stored away in his shelves
some, he refuses to show to anyone
it takes you so little time to feel at home in the huge flat, the prospect of looking for an apartment for yourself is off the table before you actually start.
and it doesn´t take long until you´re part of the routines like you´d been there since the beginning
Sunday evenings are for movie nights
sometimes, Mor joins you, and you sit with Azriel on the couch, sharing a big bowl of popcorn while staring at Rhys and Cassian argue about which Star Wars movie to start with
you go to the gym with Cassian or accompany him on a run
(well, he´s running; you´re on your bicycle, because there´s no way you can keep up with that dude´s long legs)
in the evenings, you usually end up all in the kitchen for dinner, banter thrown over the dinner table
Azriel and you mostly take care of the grocery shopping together
it usually entails you trying to reach something on a high shelf and Azriel huffing, moving to grab it without even having to stretch
him and Rhys both own motorcycles
while Cassian likes to stick to his old, beat up truck, Rhys has a car as well, but alternates between it and the motorcycle
he also really never misses an opportunity to flirt
"Come on, darling." Leaning back on his motorcycle, he sends you a grin that makes your cheeks heat a little. "I´ll give you a ride."
"That´s what she said,", a deep voice somewhere behind you mumbles, and your heart flips a little when you look over your shoulder and feel your lips part when Azriel brushes past you, sending you a rare grin that makes you beam at him and Rhys huff.
small cleaning duties in the apartment are rotating between the four of you
but big-once-a-month-deep-cleans are something you make a day of
blasting music, you divide the flat and get to work
(bathroom duty is rotated)
in the (very rare) case of an argument, it usually ends in one of you being mediator
aka after a cooling off period, the arguing parties are locked in the pantry until they´ve talked things out
it works surprisingly well
sometimes, the boys bring someone home
it usually comes with a text or the very oldschool sock on the door
(you ban that one after Cassian forgets it and you walk into the flat unsuspectingly only to be flashed
Cassian apologizes profoundly
after he´s done laughing)
(there are also a few awkward encounters in the hall in the morning that leave you contemplating not running around in just big t-shirts)
Feyre still gives you rides to campus and back
but sometimes, it´s Azriel waiting in the parking lot instead, leaned against his motorcycle, two helmets next to him.
it does not help with the way your heart seems to speed up whenever you find his amber eyes on you.
but you´re very adamant on pushing that away.
it´s probably not that serious anyway.
it would be wrong to say your life was boring before you met the three idiots you now call your roomates.
but it sure as hell is a lot better now that you have.
even if they do drive you a little nuts sometimes.
YES HE ISSSSS!!! I headcanon all the ACOTAR males would be the perfect girl dads and I am still furious with SJM that Rhys does not have a daughter... yet.
But in my head he is the perfect girl dad so let's get into it!!!!!
Okay!!!! I feel like you both keep the gender a surprise because honestly, you don't really care as long as the babe is happy and healthy
But we alllll know that Rhys prays for a girl
He just adores the idea of having a mini you
And when you give birth to a girl??? This male sobs, he kisses you all over your sweaty face, muttering thanks to you and the gods and mother above for all that he has been blessed with, but especially for his little girl that he will forever spoil
He obviously coddles the hell out of his little girl, insisting that she needs to be in his arms at all times when she is not being fed or sleeping, everyone has to pry her out of his arms just to get the chance to hold her. The only person he willingly hands her over to is you.
He loves taking her out to fly, especially during the night where she is cooing in his arms and he points out different constellations and describes them to her
He spends hours talking to her. He talks to her about anything and everything, often holding her while he does his work in his office. If you can't find your babe, chances are that she is in his office and he is discussing policy. Your babe just smiles back gummily with the chubbiest cheeks and babbles at her papa, and whatever problem Rhys had is suddenly solved all thanks to his precious babe
Tea parties galore. This male will go all out for his little babe and honestly, you can't even blame him. The entire house is decorated in fairy theme, flowers and ivy all around the marbled columns. Rhys creates the illusions of tiny stars all around the house, and forces Uncle Azzie and Uncle Cassie to where pink tutu's with a princess crowns. Rhys wears a purple tutu with his night court crown.
He has a crown custom made for your babe when she is born, and adds to the collection every birthday she has with different jewelry. And he always always always buys out all the flower shops in Valeris and adds to your own jewelry collection on her birthday because he cannot thank you enough for one of the greatest blessings in his life
He loves watching the two of you interact, sometimes standing behind the door to watch the two of you talking. This little girl rambles like her life depends on it with you patiently listening and humming along, asking her questions so that she knows you are interested in whatever she has to say
Your babe used to whine about taking naps but ever since papa started to join her in for a daily nap, forcing you to join as well, she has gone down without any issue. Rhys doesn't really fall asleep, but he will watch the both of you cuddle and nap. He absolutely adores listening to the both of you breathe and pulls you both into his chest so that he can hold you close to his heart.
He calls you his heart, and your daughter his soul
He spoils the hell out of this little girl. She gets whatever the hell she wants, all the books and shoes and dresses and jewelry. His favorite activity though, is taking her to the market so they can both spoil you together: "I think mama needs this papa," small finger pointing at the largest diamond ring either of them have seen, "You have the best eyes my little darling," smirking down at her.
"Maybe we should gets mamas this whole store papa!" "We should little love"
Proceeds to buy all the jewelry in the shop and shrugging his shoulders in nonchalance when you glare at him, pointing at the bouncing babe in his arms, "It was my darling girl's idea"
his muscles when he holds her I cannot
This man also develops the largest breeding kink after she is born
Anyway...
He loves you and her the most and I am convinced he is the best girl dad and will probably add more to this as more thoughts come
Also he def paints her nails all pretty, and he also allows her to paint his nails and proudly shows them off at high lord meetings
He also gets hers and your initials physically tattooed on his chest, right above his heart
Can you make something with Fenrys, like, him and reader are mates, and they are trying to get a child for so long, and one day they discover that they are expecting.
(I really liked your writing, and very few people write about him, so I wanted to thank you for this 💕)
Had a blast writing this truly. Thank you for requesting and the kind words, I hope you'll enjoy it. 🤍✨
Little pup
At first, you didn't talk about it. You both were still young and for the most part, had wanted to explore the world together. Just you two. Try new things. See new places. Travel. Indulge in each other's company. And the mating frenzy hit you so hard that you didn't leave your house for over a month. And by then you were convinced that everyone passing by could smell the sex lingering all around.
And yet even in that month, it wasn't about getting pregnant. Fenrys was learning how to please you and you were doing the same. It was the desire to explore that drove you. To bring each other immense pleasure. Till the last breaking point. Till the moment all you could see was stars. Till furniture was breaking. But the thought of conceiving never crossed your mind.
But it's the first time your period is late and you're feeling so weird that Aelin had to drag you to the healer's level. It's the joyful smile on the woman's face when she says, "Oh you might as well be pregnant", that breaks this bubble of cold water over your head. "How exciting would that be? Babies are so rare and to have one ahh...", the healer beams as she ushers you to lay down. You reach for Aelin's hand almost instantly. The nerve suddenly so uneasy in your chest.
And then the healer's face drops and so does your heart. Sadness washes over you and it's like you had lost something you didn't even think you wanted five minutes ago. "You started your circle, darling", she says lowering your skirt down and you just want to crawl into yourself. "Ah, yes", you quickly move to get down the table. Glad your back is to the two women as you quickly wipe your tears. Suddenly feeling so frustrated. You feel Fenrys tugging on the bond yet that only makes your heart ache more so you push him out of your head quickly. Drowsing the bond in complete darkness.
Fenrys comes home way earlier than he should have been there. And you know it's because he would always drop anything for you. High stake leaders waiting for the meeting? Fuck them! His mate needs him so he's leaving and gods save the souls who try to stand in his way.
He knows by the silence that something had happened. Something that upset you. Ticked you over. Then Fenrys smells the blood. Gears turning before he realizes that your cycle had finally shown up but why the sense of sorrow then? This feeling of pain makes him rub his chest as he too tries to soothe the aching.
"My, love", Fenrys shrugs his cloak off carelessly, stepping closer to the bed. You're completely submerged by the furs all over your body. He makes a quick work of pushing them to the side until your wet cheeks come into sight and Fenry's heart drop even more. "Love", he breathes out in worry. But that only makes your tears well up more. A choked-out sob leaves your lips before you move to push away from your mate. That jabs Fenry's heart too.
"Love, if you don't tell me what's going on...", and then this shien of anger washes over you. Painting your cheeks in even more crimson shades. "Talk to you? Talk about what, huh?", you leap at him, fist coming in contact with Fenrys's strong chest.
But then you draw your hands back, looking at them with so much disgust. Fenrys steps in quickly taking your smaller palms into his. Your mind was too chaotic for him to read now. So he had to trust you to let him in on your own time. "What is going on...", you mutter, "You're overwhelmed and your body is full of hormones", even Fenrys frown at his own words but that's the truth in a way. The question still stands though. What caused all of this? "I thought I was...", you breathe through the sobs, "Thought we had...", and then it's full-on sobs, till your legs give out and Fenrys quickly wraps you up in his arms, rocking you from time to time.
There's no way to tell how long you've been crying by the time you're only sniffling. Eyes puffy and red, holding onto Fenrys for dear life. And he had run out of comforting words by then, opting for silence and love that he poured through the bond. You push away from him slightly. Knowing full well that you owe him an explanation. Because he too would have been a part of this if you had been pregnant. Your eyes well up with tears once more as you glance at him and Fenrys is ready to cradle you once more but you stop him. "I saw a healer this morning. She thought that I might...", you swallow the lump in your throat, shoulders sagging, "might be... pregnant". Fenrys's heart jumps up his throat. Suddenly he's almost hyper-aware of his surroundings. Threats. Smells. Sounds. But then nothing. And then just like before it all falls into place.
This. All of this was because you weren't. Because there wasn't a babe growing in your womb. No little Fenrys, or Y/N. And it's almost like another slap to his face because he only now realizes that you never really talked about it. Becoming parents. Growing your family. Being together and having one another was comforting enough. But seeing you like this. "I'm sorry...", you whisper and Fenrys draws his gaze back to you. "What for love? There's nothing to be sorry for", he brushes your loose hair away from your face.
"For not being pregnant", Fenrys frown at your words. And frowns so deep that his eyebrows nearly come together. "Now you take that back", his hands cup your face, "You take that back and never dare to apologize for something like this".
And you know that it comes from his heart because he loves you. Because no matter what you do he will always be there. "What if I can't?", you ask him, biting your lip, "Then we won't have any and that will be more than enough because we would have one another", he's quick to reassure you. And once more from the way his eyes are gleaming you know that he means it. "Come here", he mutters m, bringing you back into his arms, and wrapping it up in the comfort of his warmth. Drowning out the world around you.
All of this leads to a long conversation about children. One that you share late at night, both tangled between the sheets. Let the stars and the moon be the only witnesses of your wishes and dreams. And you both know that's so rare. And something that many couples don't even get close to. Fenrys knows how he and his brother Connall had come pretty late into their parent's lives. But then what a blessing it was to have two babies. Yet the time span was what scared him the most. Not because he was desperate. Don't get him wrong he wanted to see you pregnant. Know that it's his baby growing within you. But he could tell how fragile this topic made you. How you would shiver any time someone brought up the conversation of babies. How you would halt at the sight of younglings running around in the streets. How you forced a smile once Ellide got pregnant and you had brushed away your sad tears saying that it was only happy crying.
And it's only a handful of years later. Many disappointing visits to the healers later that you jolt up in the morning rushing to the bathroom. Fenrys is out of bed just as fast, darting after you and reaching to hold your hair out of your face as you emptied your stomach into the toilet. His hands rub comforting circles over your back. Your skin looks clammy and pale and it makes Fenrys sick to his stomach as well.
Because what if all the sorrows had finally eaten you from within in? What if he had missed something? Overlooked you not eating well, not sleeping enough. Your head drops to the side, and Fenrys quickly turns you over, reaching for the tap before flickering water over your face. If an illness claimed your life... if he would be left alone...it's a selfish thought but one that has been his number one fear ever since he saw you for the very first time.
"I'm fine", you groggily say and Fenrys only huffs, "Fine my ass, you're barely conscious". Those are harsher words than he wishes that thrown your way but he's so worried. So worried his own eyes are blurry. Then he moves up quickly, you tightly pressed to his chest. "Fen, I just need to lay down", but he doesn't listen as he throws the door open. Not caring that he's shirtless, or that you are only wearing one of his shirts. He rushes down the hallway, yet he's still mindful of not shaking you too much.
The healers haven't even finished their morning preparations when he storms in, eyes wild. The healer who had been tending to you for years now jumps up instantly. "I don't know what's happening", Fenrys admits as he lowers you onto the bed. The lady presses her palm onto your forehead before cradling your cheek. "Y/N, what's hurting?", she asks softly but you only shake your head. Her mouth falls into a tight frown and she orders a couple of other healers around, turning to Fenrys so he would tell her what happened.
"When was the last time you ate, girl?", she asks strictly, fingers running over your stomach. "Breakfast", you breathe out, "yesterday". Fenrys growls in frustration. He had returned home late last night, you had already been asleep and so he never even thought about the fact that he didn't ask anyone on his way up if you had been down to eat dinner. The healer shakes her head, "Silly, silly girl. Mirth, bring the lady some light breakfast and a tart", she says even though you turn to protest. "You're with child and this is all stunt you pulled here is because you didn't eat", every sound in the room dies down. Your eyes grow big and for a moment you're sure you just mistaken her words. Surely not... but it's the way Fenrys is looking at the healer with the same surprised eyes that makes you realize that he heard it too.
"Congratulations you two. A strong heartbeat", she carefully presses her palm to your shoulder. Knowing full well that once the information fully settled in Fenrys's brain anyone that would get near the slight swell in your lower stomach would be marked an enemy. The wolf closes the distance between you two. He doesn't yet trust his words so he just leans in pressing his forehead to yours. And now that it's been brought up you do smell slightly different. And the heartbeat. How did he miss the heartbeat? What kind of father will he be if he missed his child growing inside you?
"The best kind", you mutter, "the best kind of father", your hand cups his cheek, and the white wolf instantly nuzzles closer to you. He kisses the side of your head, brushing the tears from your cheeks. "Our baby", he mumbles, pressing his palm to your stomach, "Our little pup", you put your hand over his. And then Fenrys breaks into fits of giggles as he brings you closer into his arms. You too can't help the smile even if the dizziness still lingers. And you suddenly feel complete as if this was all that was missing. Now the picture would be complete. "A father, my beautiful mate will make me a father", he beams, brushing his lips against yours in a messy kiss, but the door swings open as the younger healer walks in with a trey. The laughter stops and Fenrys is snarling at the door, teeth out. Your hands push against his chest softly, "Darling, she means no harm", you reassure him yet his eyes don't leave the poor girl now shaking by the door. "Thought you seen him protective, girl? Welcome to the next stage", the older healer chuckles as she hands you the sweet bun.
It doesn't feel like you're getting ready for a first date.
Really, this doesn't feel like a first date at all. It is--technically and logically--a first real, physical, true date.
But between you and Jake there aren't many firsts left. The two of you have done things entirely out of order. You fucked before you even liked him as a person, you somehow became friends between Plan B and lemon-lime Gatorade, you had meaningful sex, you fell in love, you became an official couple, he took care of you when you grieved, and now you've told each other that you love each other. It's been a whirlwind, really. It's what precisely no little girl's dream off--least of all you--but when your mind wanders and lands on these past few months, the ones that were marked not only by your grief but by the sudden and overwhelming love you have for Jake fucking Seresin, you know in your marrow that this is the way things are meant to happen.
When you lean back, away from the heat of your love with Jake and away from the grief of your father's demise, you still feel winded by it all. You're still catching your breath from that first encounter in your shower cubicle on base. You're still trying to bite that breath of yours that's bated, the one that's been stuck behind your front teeth since your father took his last breath against your cheek.
But things have happened this way and for no certain reason (other than Jake Jake Jake Jake Jake), you're happy. You're the kind of happy that people talk about in anti-depressant commercials; when people play frisbee in golden sunlight and throw their heads back laughing and meet their friends for a glass of wine over lunch. It's an almost synthetic kind of happy when you're with Jake, like you should be wallowing in despair and mourning, but he just makes you too giddy.
So now you're here, a week after you and Jake confessed that you love each other in a stupidly romantic moment on the beach with fucking Mazzy Star playing (sometimes you feel like you're literally filming scenes for an anti-depressant commercial of your own), and you're getting ready for your first date.
If this was a first date, like actually a first date, you'd be more nervous than you are right now. You'd be wringing your hands together and trying not to pick at your fresh manicure and checking your hair in the hallway mirror until your own reflections skewed. You'd be downing a whiskey shooter with your sister as you waited for your date to pick you up and obsessively Googling the menu for the restaurant you're eating at.
Right now, though, you're completely and utterly fine. Maybe it has a little bit to do with the fact that you already know this date is going to end with sex. Maybe it has a little bit to do with you already being head-over-heels, stupidly in love with your date. Or maybe it's just because your date is getting ready alongside you.
"What time should I pick you up?" Jake says as you stand beside him, running a brush through your hair. He's grinning at you in the mirror and you're chewing your own smile, too. "How's seven sound?"
"Seven's good," you tell him. "Let me know if you have any trouble finding the place, okay?"
Jake nods, dabbing a bit of gel on his fingers and sculpting his blonde locks carefully.
"It's just down the stairs and take a right, yeah?"
"Yeah, that'll take you straight to the front door. You could turn left into the living room, too, and we could meet each other halfway in the foyer if you want?"
Jake scoffs.
"Are you one of those girls that's gonna want to split the bill, too?"
"Oh, no," you tell him, furrowing your brows. "You're absolutely paying for my dinner because I'm putting out tonight."
Jake laughs, wiping his hands on a towel before he moves behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. He's very docile with you, letting his hands rest on the bottom of your belly, resting his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling his nose against your neck, pressing warm kisses to your jaw.
He has grown used to you standing here in his bathroom most every morning and night, which is something he was always certain he'd never get used to. Before you, Jake didn't think he was the type that would bask in the intimacy of domesticity.
But now he can't remember what life was like before you padded your way into his bathroom and wrote him love messages with your finger across the steamy mirror while he showered after his morning run. He can't remember a time before your mascara was sitting beside his hair gel or when your hairbrush didn't set just beside his comb. He can't remember a time that your smiling face and tired eyes and messy hair weren't staring back at him in this mirror at Too Fucking Early In The Morning. He didn't realize how lonely he looked as a solitary figure in this mirror until you stepped in place beside him. The two of you fill it up mighty fine now, tooth brushes hanging out of your foamy mouths or palms pressed to each other's cheeks when you insist upon washing each other's faces.
Even now, the two of you washed up nicely and getting spiffy for a date that neither of you are nervous about, you look good. You two just look like you belong here.
Jake takes a deep breath of you--that sweet scent that's always lingering on your skin, the one that he would truly bathe in if he could. And he keeps pressing his lips against your jaw, his heartbeat steady as you melt into his embrace. It's something you can't help now; he just makes you feel held. It's as simple as that.
"I love you," he whispers and his tongue still tingles when he says it. His chest grows warm, the tips of his ears glow pink in the lowlight.
You smile at him, minding the lipstick you've just applied and are waiting to dry.
"Already said I was putting out," you tease, resting your head on his shoulder. "You don't need to try so hard."
But then you turn and meet his gaze in real life, not in the reflection of his bathroom mirror. And his nose brushes yours as he laughs, his chest rumbling against your shoulder blades, and you are so completely and totally in love that you feel dumb.
"Maybe if I try really hard, we'll stop for a Plan B on the way home?"
And that's another thin you love about the two of you--you make each other laugh. Like right now, he's holding you and you're lying against his chest, and you're both in stitches over each other.
"Hey, buddy," you tell him, still coughing up a few giggles as you carefully blot under your eyes, "you buy me steak and a lemon-lime Gatorade and you can so whatever you want to me."
He kisses your temple, gentle enough to not disturb your hair and your makeup, and smiles against your skin.
"I love you," you tell him, your voice quieter. It feels unfamiliar on your tongue still, but not in a bad way; just a new way. For just a moment, you think about your father. You think about the ferocity in which he loved your mother, then your sister, then you. You think about how short his life seemed despite all those years you had with him, all those kisses he pressed against your hair and all the times he carried you against his chest. He loved good. He lived well. You feel that there is not a moment to waste. Fuck it. "I love you a lot, Jake."
Even though it's only the two of you, Jake makes a show of your grand appearance down the staircase. It's something you've grown to adore about him: he makes the small moments in life big. You used to overlook moments like this, but he never has. So before you slip into your dress and put on your heels, Jake exits the bedroom and tells you to call down to him when you're ready.
It's silly, really. And honestly, if some other guy tried to make you do this, you'd tell him to grow the fuck up. But besides the fact that you're downright enamored with Jake, you find that there is a want deep in your gut: you want to do this. You want to do silly little things like this, these boring parts of life that he makes exciting all on his own accord. You want to play along, you want to be involved.
"Okay," you call to him. "I'm ready, stud!"
"Wait for your cue!" He calls back, his voice echoing off the tile in the foyer where you know he's waiting in his nice slacks and button down shirt.
You're biting a grin, careful not to smudge your lipstick. And you just can't help yourself--you have butterflies right now. The good kind, the kind that seem to be a good omen. There's giddiness crawling up the column of your spine and sitting thickly on your tongue.
Then the music starts.
You laugh out loud, your cheeks pink. He's such a sap.
After a moment, you recognize the song. It's My Girl by The Temptations.
You've never been one for grand romantic gestures. But when you walk out into the dark hallway and see the stupid red rose petals littering the stairs and the dim lights in the foyer, your heart almost bursts right out of your chest. It's the highest form of melodrama Jake has ever displayed--cheesy at best--but you don't think you could love him any more than you do right now. The love is choking you.
I guess you'd say / What can make me feel this way
You start down the stairs, hating and loving simultaneously that you feel like you're descending some sort of grand staircase at a fucking ball instead of the foyer of your boyfriend's house.
And because he has probably times this perfectly, playing the song over headphones while stepping down at the pace he thinks you'll step down, your heel clicks against the petal-covered tiles as soon as the chorus begins.
My girl, my girl, my girl / Talkin' 'bout my girl / My girl
To be completely honest, Jake hasn't ever been one to make moments like this matter. He's never done this before--he hasn't even done anything close to this before. Not for any other woman, not for himself. But you make him want to do cheesy things like this. He reckons that he would do just about anything to see that toothy grin on your face, the one that makes your eyes dwarf and your cheeks expand.
It's been a hard couple of months for you--he'd do anything to make it easier for you and he does frequently.
Now here you are, standing there in your pretty dress and your pretty heels. Your toenails are painted that charming blueberry color again and your cheeks are pink and there it is--that toothy grin, those little shining eyes, that flush in your chest. You're happy. You're so happy that he can read it on your body as if it were written across your forehead.
I've got so much honey / The bees envy me
"Oh, baby," Jake croons, clutching his heart. "You're a vision!"
He's even holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, the bastard.
"Fuck off," you laugh. "You're so ridiculous."
He's grinning even wider now.
"Or romantic?" He says with his brow perched.
"You're an idiot," you say, but you're nearing him with that delicious perfume on your skin and that giddiness sitting in the middle of your chest. "Like, really, Seresin. This is so stupid."
You encircle his neck with your arms and he lets the flowers fall to the floor as he presses his body against yours, basking in your heat. He lets his fingers trail up and down your bare arms as he presses his forehead against yours.
I've got a sweeter song / Than the birds in the trees
"This is really stupid," he agrees, nudging your nose with his, letting his eyelashes kiss your cheeks. "You still wanna be my girlfriend after this?"
You sigh, shaking your head. You can't shake this smile that's eating your face.
"I really, really do," you whisper, pressing your lips against his. "How dumb does that make me?"
Jake pulls you closer, hands cupping your ass in a most delicious way.
"So, so dumb, baby," he whispers against your lips, grinning.
You keep kissing, keep letting his lips make you lightheaded. And Jake lets his hands wander all along your backside and the sweet curve of your spine.
Well, I guess you'd say / What can make me feel this way
"Did you time my entrance to the song?" You ask, not pulling your lips from his.
"No comment," he breathes back.
"Jake," you whisper, giggling. "No, you didn't!"
He pulls back from your lips finally, letting his forehead rest against yours. He thumbs a smudge of your lipstick and grins, shrugging.
"I can neither confirm nor deny."
Of course the date goes perfectly.
You two go to a nice steakhouse, one right on the water, and sit on the patio. He buys a bottle of the white wine you like so much and then another when the two of you accidentally drink the entirety of the first.
He watches the pink sun dip into the sea behind you, watches the way the light bounces off your skin as you sip your wine and cut your filet mignon.
You watch him as he looks up at the sky, the one he is so frequently inside of. And you watch his aspen-colored eyes drink in the white-rice moon and the stars that are beginning to sprinkle across the horizon.
The two of you reach out for each other beneath the table--most of the dinner is spent with your feet resting in his lap with his hands on your ankles.
The food is good, the wine is great, and his company is even better. You ring in the evening with your bellies full, with laughter in your throat, with your heels in his hands, with the crashing waves guiding you back towards the car you rode in together.
And it's there, in the car, with the windows rolled down and the radio turned up that it dawns on you: this is the kind of love that your parents shared. This tipsy grin on your lips and that fond grip of his on your thigh: it is familiar because it's how your parents would fall through the front door after bedtime on date nights. Already, Jake has given you so much comfort; has held you the way only your father ever had, has made you laugh instead of weep, has been so gentle with you. Now he's embodying the best man that's ever lived and settling into this comfortable life with you.
You reach over and comb through his hair. He loves it when you do that--it always elicits an mmm from him when you scratch his scalp or tug on his clean hair.
"You know," you say, your eyes glassy, "you might just be one of the best men to ever live."
Jake Seresin, for all intents and purposes, is an egotistical man. One would maybe expect him to respond with a snort and an eyeball as if to say well, yeah, duh. But this Jake in the driver's seat, the one that's listened to the soft sounds of your breathing each night for weeks and gone out to lunch with your sister to talk privately about her drinking, doesn't roll his eyes. Because to him, it's not a well, yeah, duh thing. It isn't often that people tell him--genuinely tell him--that he's a good man. Especially not someone who had Tom Kazansky as a father.
"You're tipsy," he says, choked up.
You lean across the seats, the center console digging into your side. And very carefully, you press a kiss to the peak of his cheekbone.
"Yeah," you agree, stroking the edge of his jaw with a gentle thumb. "And you're still one of the best men to ever live."
That is the closest Jake fucking Seresin has come to crying on a first date.
guys pls don't be mad that there isn't smut I promise I will write more smut as soon as my classes are over today!!! but I thought you guys deserved some good old fashioned fluff after what I put all of you through the last couple of parts!!! I love all of you!!!
☾ ☽ this story is explicit! 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭. 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝟏𝟖+. off the top of my head there's definitely smut, mentions of death, suicide if you squint, grief, violence, graphic descriptions. if you have questions about specific warnings, feel free to message me and I will be happy to give a breakdown of each chapter warning.
☾ ☽ 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
☾ ☽ 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
It’s been almost three years since the accident that took half of her, and Faye “Clover” Ledger seems fine, really. She loves her old house, she has a perpetually expanding vinyl collection, she’s got a job she likes on base, and she maintains a rigid routine. She’s grounded--literally. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw feels like he’s been homesick his entire life. He’s always on the move; jumping from one squadron to another, living one mission to the next. Somewhere in between losing both his parents and carving a successful career as a Naval aviator, he’s never found himself a home. When a call to serve on a high-priority mission with an elite squadron brings Rooster back to Miramar, he finds that home. Except it’s not a house that he finds--it’s the former backseater that observes and records the mission for the Official Navy Record.
✯ this story is explicit! 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈! smut, language, sexual themes, violence, graphic depictions, drugs, death, etc. please think before you interact!
✯ 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲'𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐬: #1 #2 #3
✯ 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐬: #1 #2 #3
✯ 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
✯ 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Before becoming a hotshot Naval aviator, Jake Seresin was born and bred in the small town of Silverkeep, TX. It’s only a short drive from Austin but feels like a different world entirely--all the houses are falling apart, people keep their rusty trucks unlocked on their front lawn, central air conditioning is rarer than a rainstorm, and everyone wears their best boots to church. His every waking minute is spent with his endearing group of friends--and most importantly: you. Riding your bikes to Silver Spring on Friday afternoons, drinking cheap beer around a bonfire after school, and making mixed tapes is what you all live for as your senior year drifts to a close.
He comes of age and falls in love with you, his best friend that he affectionately refers to as Filly. You’re the bull-headed, ardent, zealous girl he met in Sunday school before you were old enough to tie your own shoes. Somewhere between chain-smoking after baseball games underneath the bleachers and lying in the bed of someone’s daddy’s truck at the rundown drive-in, the two of you have been entirely dedicated to each other. You both think you’re in love. But your situation is a delicate balance of downright, darling devotion and paralyzing fear of rejection. This is to say: neither of you have the gall to do a damn thing about it. Your existence in the little world of Silverkeep is fragile--suddenly and easily disrupted when maturescence rears its ugly head. Sometimes very far apart and sometimes very close together, yours and Jake’s story spans across fifteen years. From Port Gin to Rior River, your paths are woven intricately by fated grocery store encounters and sprawling horse ranches.
Okay okay okay, I know I’m not as online as I used to be. I also know that I’m mainly a Tom Holland blog, but over these last few weeks, I’ve been in a Top Gun chokehold!!!
I haven’t read everything on this masterlist, but the “Fuck ___” Universe is EVERYTHING TO ME
I can’t tell you how excited I am for the next update. Want to see Jake absolutely down bad for his wife after taking her home.
Settle in nonny this one got a little steamy. As always here’s the Masterlist for To Have & To Hold
“Well—“ Doctor Perry paused as she flashed a light up your nostril. “There’s definitely some major swelling in your sinuses that will definitely cause some major bruising.” Popping her small flashlight back into her top breast pocket. “But I don’t think there’s any major cause to be too concerned, no broken bones or cartilage."
Jake sat by the window stone cold as he listened to the doctor explain what you would need to be cautious of over the coming days. Dry blood clots, a loss of smell and taste even. Headaches and swelling from the bruising. All because some douchebag didn’t understand the word no. His knuckles still bloodied and cut from laying into the guy who tried it on with you. A trip to the emergency department to get you all checked before heading home. Well, heading to Jakes. Home was wherever he inevitably was.
“I’ll get your discharge papers ready and you’ll be all good to go—“ Doctor Perry smiled as she collected her things, sending Jake a soft smirk aswell. “Your wife here is very lucky there isn’t more extensive damage, she’s pretty beat up but she’ll recover quite quickly all things considered.”
“You saying she’s got a thick head doc?” Jake couldn’t help but to taunt as he rested his head in his hand. Elbow holding his wait on the armrest of the chair he so casually sat man spreading in. “Because I tell her that all the time, so it’s nice to have a professional diagnosis.” Doctor Perry just shook her head as she tried to hide her laughter. Walking out of the room just as Jake got up from his chair with a dramatic groan. Sauntering over to where you sat with your legs hung over the examination bed.
“You think you’re really clever for that one aren’t you?” You beamed, eyes so full of love. “If one of us has a thick head it’s you, Mr. Seresin.” Pointing a finger into Jake's chest as his hands came to linger on your waist. Standing between your legs. “Thankyou for bringing me to get checked out, it’s nice to know there’s nothing seriously wrong.”
“Happy to be of service, Mrs. Seresin.” Jake was expecting you to tell him off like you always did whenever he had the audacity to call you Mrs. Seresin over the last year and a half. But to his surprise? You didn’t. If anything he caught a glimpse of something in your eye. Something that told him that you were okay with it—that you were in fact, Mrs. Jake Seresin. “I’d do just about anything for you Hawkeye, you know that.”
“How are the hands holding up?” You asked softly as you brought them down gently against Jakes. His hands on your hips, your hands on his. He didn’t mean to let out such a hiss, but it escaped momentarily when you relaxed against him. “Fuck, sorry sorry—“ Removing your hands from Jakes he shook his head in response.
“No don’t be, just a little banged up.” He was honestly fine. “Nothing I can’t handle, nothing I wouldn’t do again if I needed to.” Tilting your chin up slightly with his fingers, Jake paused as his eyes lingered from your lips to your eyes. “I think I’m falling in love with you all over again.”
“Be honest with me.” You let your eyes wander as well, gaze cascading down from Jake's eyes to his lips then climbing again. “Did you ever really stop?”
“Oh god no—no never.” Jake Seresin was very aware he had his own flaws and weaknesses. He wasn’t claiming to be a perfect man or a man without vice. But he really did love you. “I could never stop loving you even if you told me tomorrow you wanted absolutely nothing to do with me.”
“Good thing I love you back then huh?” You tried to hide your smirk by biting your bottom lip softly. Jake's hands came to cup your cheeks as he pulled you in for a kiss so soft. He didn’t want to hurt you. But it was the laugh you let out against his lips that had Jake pulling away.
“What’s so funny?” Jake’s never been so infatuated with your laugh before. Infectious and endearing. Laughing harder with every passing second as you clapped your hands together before bringing them up to cover your mouth. “Babe, what’s so funny?” Smiling back at you Jake let himself rest his forehead against yours. Hands lingering on your hips yet again. “What is it?”
“Us—“ You beamed, your laugh diminishing to nearly nothing. “Us and this whole mess.” Wiping your tears that had formed while you were laughing. “Only us Jake, only we would end up broken and bruised from a simple dinner.”
“Yeah, we don’t half arse a night out do we?”
“Okay!” Like high school sweethearts being caught behind the bleachers by the teacher on duty, Jake was pulling away with a cough to clear his throat as doctor Perry came back into the room. “I have your discharge papers ready to go.” Trying to hide a bashful smile you took the forms from her gracefully. “Just try and refrain from any high intensity cardio workouts for at least a week while the swelling goes down. I mean the worst that could happen would be a bloody nose but still—if it can be avoided I’d rather you do so.”
“Uh, yeah yeah—that won’t be a problem.” You nodded as Jake raised a questioning brow from the sideline. His arms crossed over his chest with a devious smirk plastered on his face. “Thanks again doc, for everything.”
“Yeah, thanks doc.” Jake added as he handed you his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders. “C’mon wifey, let’s get you home.” Jake's arm wasn’t far behind his jacket. Guiding you out of the room and out of the emergency department with a protective arm slung over your shoulders. “You still want to come round to my place?” You let his question linger in the darkness of the hospital car park. Walking side by side with your arm wrapped around the small of Jake's back as his wrapped around your shoulders. “Y/n?”
“Yeah, yeah no let’s go.” With a soft smile and a heart full of love for your husband, you walked with him back to his car. Knowing full well the second you stepped foot through the threshold of Jake's humble abode, you would be going against direct orders from Doctor Perry. Cardio was very much on the agenda.
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
“Fuck—! Oh my, shit—!” Jake Seresin was a lucky man. A very lucky man. You never even made it to the bedside before your lips were on each other’s. Jake being incredibly careful of your nose, kissing you with passion but no force what so ever—letting you control the momentum.
“Feels so fucking good—!” An angel. That’s the only thing Jake could describe the way you sounded bouncing on top of his cock. His hands helping to guide you, lift you and slam you down his length. “So good baby.” Your velvet walls were so tight around his shaft, slicking Jake's length so well. “More Jake more—!” Your nectar dribbled down to the hilt, a wet slapping sound echoing off the walls of Jake Seresin's living room as you rode him on the lounge.
“God you're perfect, so beautiful.” It was the way Jake's voice groaned in your head an o five or two deeper than normal that really got you going. “So fucking pretty riding me like this?” His lips on your neck, attacking you with sweet nothings as he sucked marks up and down the junction of your shoulder. “Guess blondes really do have more fun huh?” You didn’t falter as Jake wrapped a hand into your hair, pulling your head back to expose more of your neck as a moan escaped and echoed throughout the house. “Fucking Christ you’ll be the death of me if you keep fucking me like this.”
“Who am I, baby.” It wasn’t a question, you knew. But you wanted to hear Jake say it. You wanted to hear your husband say what you were so you could get off to it. “Say it Jake—“ slowly rolling your hips as you took every inch Jake had to the hilt of his length. Throbbing inside you.
“You’re mine—“ Jake growled with a protectiveness so primal it sent waves of electricity shooting through your body as the pad of his thumb came to draw soft circles around your clit. The sensitive bundle of nerves crying out of attention. Overjoyed with pleasure as Jake gave you want you so desperately craved. “You’re mine baby, always have been always will be.” Watching you with hooded eyes and a high pooling at the base of his shift, Jake worked you a little faster, matching the rhythm and pace you set riding his cock. “Would ask you to marry me but I’ve already done that.”
“Jake!!” God he loved the way you said his name why chasing your high— an orgasm so powerful building in the pit of your stomach. “Oh god oh god oh god yes—fuck me.” That was all Jake needed to hear before he was pulling your chest to his, holding your arms behind your back with a tight grip on your wrist. “Ahhh-! Fuck! Jake please.”
“Don’t worry I got you.” Smirking, Jake planted his feet lifting you slightly before he began bucking his hips up into you. “I’ll take it from here shall I?” Taunting you as he fucked hard and fast and deep into you. “I know you can take it beautiful, god wish you could see how gorgeous you look stuffed.” You were drooling, dripping down Jakes chest as he fucked you—holding you to his chest with your arms behind your back.
“I’m—oh fuck I’m gonna cu—cum I’m gonna cum.” Babbling like a mad woman Jake didn’t slow, if anything he got faster at the thought of feeling you come undone around him. “Please—!”
“I got you sweetheart let go.” Jake groaned in your ear as he kissed your cheek softly. “Cum for me, I’ll come with you—just say when and I’m there.” He’d been holding back for this moment, determined to experience euphoria with you. The love of his life. “Cum baby, all over my cock.”
“Shit!!” You cried as your legs shook and your eyes rolled. “Cumming cumming cumming—“ that’s all you could muster to say, one word over and over again as your jaw eventually slacked. “Jake!”
“Ohhhh fuck yess—“ Hot sports of cum shot deep I add your cunt. Filling you to the very brim as Jake slowed his role, his hips no longer slamming against you more so grinding. Keeping himself tucked deep inside as his balls tighten to new extremes. Emptying everything he had inside you. “Oh Y/n, baby—“
“Fucking hell, you’ll never be a bad fuck.” Sighing as you chuckled softly into Jake's chest. He was quick to wrap his arms around you tight. Kissing your cheek. Your wrist red from his grin. “So good.”
“That's all I am huh? A good fuck?” Jake looked down as you looked up, a little blood started to run from your nose. Doctor Perry had warned you, but you really needed to be with your husband.
“No—You’re my everything.” It was the honest truth. “And I know I probably wasn’t the best wife before.”
“Don’t—“ Jake tried to interrupt you, knowing you were about to put the blame on yourself for your marriage breakdown. “You left because I wasn’t worth staying for, but I’m learning to be a better man for you.” Wiping the blood that dripped from your nose with a tissue Jake had gabbed you from the small coffee table beside the lounge as you sat up. Jake still burrows to the hilt inside you. His cock softening over time. “I wanna win you back, that’s all that matters to me anymore, you, us.”
“What about this special detachment?” Shoving the tissue up your nose, Jake could not have been more in love. “Isn’t that super important to Mr best of the best?” You were expecting Jake to tell you it was, that it was just as important. Because that’s the way it had become with him. Work was a top priority. But it wasn’t the answer you got.
“I’d leave this detachment tomorrow if it meant I got you back for good.” It felt so surreal to hear. “I love you, so much—and you’ve never been hard to get, at all Y/n.” Jake followed you as you leaned back. His hands holding your exposed back as he wrapped your legs around his waist. Standing. “You’re hard to earn.”
“You are really turning up the charm, Hangman.” Taunting his callsign his way you beamed as Jake pressed you up against the nearest wall. Your arms around his neck. “But are you being for real? You’d give up flying this mission—for me?” He didn’t skip a beat, Jake knew how important his devotion truly meant to you. He’d forgotten to put you fear for so long that you left just to feel important to yourself again. He’d forgotten to be a husband first and foremost before an Aviator. Deep down he knew he could do both—but for now? There was one thing that he wanted to mend again. Wanted back more than anything in the entire world. You.
“Without hesitation.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~*
Grey skies loomed above, threatening to wash away the beautiful flowers that littered around and above the dark wooden coffin. Glossed and proper. The jarring claps of gunfire saluting a fallen aviator rang across the fields—forcing a jolt from you each time as you stood holding the perfectly folded flag in your arms.
“You knew this was coming—“ It was Jakes voice clear as day that spoke softly in your ear. A gentle breeze rushing past you and you closed your eyes tight. Tears spilling down your cheeks. “You’re the only one here?” Opening your eyes, suddenly it was just you. The clouds above now dark and stormy. Raining down heavy as you stood by Jake's coffin.
“I don’t remember what happened?” Crying as you looked around for someone. Anyone. “Jake!?”
“We’re glad it was him instead of one of us.” Spinning around to face where Bob stood in his dress whites. “It was rightfully him.”
“You don’t mean that.” Sobbing uncontrollably as you feel to your knees. Jake was there to console you. “You don’t!”
“No, he doesn’t—but you do.” Anger laced in his voice as the colour in his eyes began to fade into a light grey. No light or life behind them. “Why did you send me on that suicide mission honey? You could have just divorced me?”
“But I don’t remember!” You were inconsolable at this point. A sobbing mess in the wet grey beside Jake's coffin. “I didn’t. I wouldn’t—I don’t want to divorce you, I love you I—I don’t wanna lose you.” Looking up as you sat back on your heels it was just you again. Sitting in the pouring rain. “I can’t lose you.”
With a sudden gasp you felt your head leave the pillow. Eyes blurry as you tried to distinguish reality from dreamscape. Looking around the room before your eyes fell to the emptiness beside you. No—surely not. With panic bubbling just beneath the surface you hurried to find a T-shirt, any T-shirt that Jake had discarded on the floor. Fuck pants, there was no time for pants. Pulling the almost wash ready shirt over your head as you padded down the hall.
“Jake? Hey Hangman! you still around?” Checking the bathroom first, maybe he had gone for a shower. Nothing. Not a sign of life anywhere in the white tiled bathroom. “Jake?” You called out again as you continued your search, landing in the living room to also find nothing. “No—no no no no.”
Your dream was starting to play nasty little tricks on you. Or were you dreaming now? Pinching your forearm as you fort of tears, you made your way to the kitchen. Stopping in your tracks when you saw him, Jake—standing at the stove top. Eggs cooking in a pan as toast toasted in the toaster off to the side.
A sigh of relief and a wave of emotions flooded your systems as you bent down to let your hands rest on your knees. Fucking Christ, Jake had been wearing his AirPods. Music blasting as he cooked. Only realising you had joined him when he turned to check if the toast had popped. Eyes beaming with a bright closed mouth smile.
“Full disclosure I literally went for a run in that shirt like three days ago and it’s been on my floor ever since.” Pointing the spatula he had been using to cook the eggs your way. You let yourself into his side, reaching up to gently kiss Jake's cheek as you brought your arms around his waist. “Mornin’ gorgeous.” You took in the scent of Jake as you held him sight, just grounding yourself for a moment as you watched him flip your egg. Remembering you liked it a little more cooked. “You okay?”
“Just had a bit of a bad dream.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?” You didn’t want to ruin a good thing. Shaking your head softly with a sigh as you let go. Heading over to the coffee pot Jake had brewed up.
“I’m okay, just wasn’t expecting to wake up alone.” Although you had become used to sleeping alone. After the psychological thriller you’ve just woken up from, it would have been nice to be met with Jake's warm body pressed against yours. His back still had red raw claw marks from his upper traps to the small of his waist—you’d dug deep. Watching as soft muscle moved absentmindedly as he worked to plate up breakfast. “You cook all your little girlfriends breakfast or is it just me?” Taunting Jake as he laid your egg down gently on the toast. Turning to hand over the plate as you walked back over. Coffee cup in hand with a teasing smirk.
“Only the ones who hog the whole bed.” He fired back. “You need to learn a thing or two about personal space.” Your jaw hung slack as you took the plate. Jake laughed with a low chuckle. His morning voice a few octaves lower than normal. “I’m serious, I had probably an inch of room to work with last night.” Taking a bite of his own eggs on toast, Jake took in the extent of the bruising that had come up overnight. You watched his eyes lingering around your face.
“How bad is it?”
“It’s not too bad, I’d say tomorrow is when it’ll look like you've gone a few rounds with Rocky.” Jake tried to downplay the severity of the bruising. “Does it hurt?”
“Eh, just a little—under my eyes mostly.” Besides some pressure it didn’t feel all that bad. “Think I might just wear some sunglasses around the office today.” Laughing softly as you ate your breakfast, sipped your coffee and enjoyed each other’s company, the panic you felt in your chest from your nightmare soon dissolved. It hasn’t been the first time, but it had been the first for a while. “What time do you need to be in today?”
“Ah—“ Jake looked at his wrist although he wasn’t wearing a watch. Knowing Javy would soon be on his doorstep. “Like, now—but Coyotes picking me up so until he gets here I’m golden, what about you?”
“Well I just need to be there for phase two training today, you know—make sure all my little simulations are correct and make adjustments to anything that doesn’t really work.” You pondered what time that also told you, a questioning brow upon your face as you finished your toast and dusted your hairs. “I think like ten thirty? That’s run time isn’t it?”
“Ay!” Coyote frowned as he came bursting through Jake's front door. “Whatch’a mean you need a lift for man? Your cars in the damn drive?” He hadn’t looked up as he shit the door behind him. Hadn’t noticed you and Jake both standing very close together enjoying a moment. “Lazy man, that’s what you are—oh shit.” As soon as Coyote took a step in, he looked up. Spitting you both as you smiled and waved.
“Hawkeye needs my car to get to work later dipshit, I drove her to the emergency room last night.” Last night huh? So why were you still here then?
“Yeah no doubt, that’s from the headbutt?” Javy questioned as he stood with his hands under his armpits. Confirming his suspicions you nodded gently. “Fucking hell he wasn’t messing around was he?” Jake caught to shift in your expression, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to let every Tom, Dick and Harry point out the bruises on your face. Sending Javy a glare when you ducked your head to catch your reflection in the mirror across the room. “Sorry, my bad Lieutenant Commander, I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“Javy, I’m literally not wearing any pants.” You chuckled, fixing yourself up as you kissed Jake on the cheek. A gesture which didn’t go unnoticed by the Lieutenant with the ride. “I think we’re on a first name basis here, don’t you think?”
“Right, well then—Hawk, I’m gonna go ahead and steal your man because if he doesn’t kick into fear we’re gonna be late.”
“I’ll catch you later alright?” Jake kissed you softly atop your head before he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. Finally and waiting for you to initiate the force, being way too careful to not hurt you, Jake left a loving kiss upon your lips. “Just leave my car at yours and I’ll catch a ride with you home.”
“Okay.” It felt like all the stars had finally aligned. It felt so utterly amazing to have Jake on the same page again. To feel loved and in blissful ignorance of just how terrible things could go if things were to go bad. But for now? You stuck at it, giving Jake Seresin just one more chance, giving him the chance to be a better version of the already amazing man he was. The man you fell in love with. “See you soon.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~*
“I was right about the eleventh man theory wasn't I?” Jake smirked. whispering as he came to stand next to Rooster. Rooster was adamant if there hadn’t been so many people around he would have clocked Jake up the side of the jaw himself, but the risk to reward ratio didn't weigh up in his favour. “What exactly did you do?”
“I messed up.” Rooster's eyes never left Chaos as he watched her leave the locker room, doing up his flight suit as he sighed. His fist slamming against the thin door of his locker. Leaving an indent. “I messed up big time.”
“God what is it with everyone abusing the lockers this morning?” Fanboy questioned as Bob shook his head as if to say don't ask. Jake was trying his best to put the pieces together, opting to place his hand on Roosters shoulder. Smirking, still chewing that piece of gum, Rooster secretly hoped he’d choke on.
“Oh well, you know what they say man, the more you fuck around the more you find out.” Jake chuckled as he went back to minding his own business.
“Heard you got into a pretty heavy altercation last night?” Roosters mentioned as he bent down to meet his foot. Lacing you the strings as his foot rested against the bench. “You uh, you good?”
“Some douchebag tried it on with Hawk, head butted the ever living shit out of her.” Rooster could vividly see the anger rising in Jake's eyes. Clenching his jaw so tight for a second he thought his teeth would shatter.
“Shit, she alright?” Rooster was genuinely concerned. Not so much for the bruises that littered Jake's knuckles or the fact he was clearly struggling with the replay of that moment in his head—Rooster was concerned for you. A friend. A colleague. Nevertheless he was glad Jake had been there for you. “Did Penny kick the guy out or?”
“We didn’t stick around to find out.” A sigh rolled off Jake's tongue as he stretched his back. “Also, just don’t mention the bruises.” Jake was being deadset serious. His heart ached and his stomach felt uneasy just thinking about the bruises that had settled in a little too nice on your face. He didn’t want anyone making you feel bad, intentional or unintentional. “Or so help me god you won’t get a chance to fix whatever mess you made with Chaos."
***~***~***~***~***~***~*
True to your word—it was a sunglasses indoors type of day. Mainly keeping to yourself for the most part, eventually though you did venture outside into the hanger. Just after the TopGun Graduates had been told to go gear up.
“Who’s up first?” Mavericks turned to where he had heard your heels clicking against the concrete. Making your way over to him.
“Payback, Fanboy and Hangman.” Maverick as he tapped his own glasses. “Heard about last night.”
“You should see the other guy—“ Trying to keep a positive attitude the more your headache seemed to grow. “Could’ve been a lot worse if Jake wasn’t there.” You hated to think for even a moment what could have happened if Jake hadn’t stepped in. “How’s he going anyway? With all this.”
“Yeah well, he’s got skill I’ll give him that—but what he lacks in ability to get along with others will most likely end up costing him down the line.” You appreciated Mavericks honesty as you walked with him out toward the taxi way. Spitting Jake doing a once over on his super hornet.
He’d left a small bunch of flowers on your desk, a note that read ‘For the love of my life’ attached to the handpicked flowers he’d stolen from one of the Neighbours gardens on his way to work. Coyote had given him shit, but he didn’t care. Jake knew that they would make you smile. He knew his mission had been accomplished as you wave his way. Still talking with Maverick as you walked by.
“Pete, can I be frank with you for a moment?” Your fear of losing Jake after just reconnecting had started to overwhelm you. You weren’t about to throw your heart out into the open just for it to be destroyed by external factors.
“Sure Hawkeye, what’s up.” Pete stopped in his tracks, Jake watched from his place by his F-18, squaring your shoulders and puffing your chest.
“If for whatever reason you feel that Jake is the right person for this mission.” You were projecting a fear that was far too much for you to truly handle. “If anything bad were to happen to him?” Stepping a little closer so no one else heard you. Putting the fear of god in Pete Michael, knowing he was still trying to forgive himself for the last person that blamed him entirely for the loss of a loved one. Seeing that weakness and deciding you needed to use it to your own advantage to try and keep your husband safe.
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."
--------------------------------------
WHO LET JAKE IN HERE?! I'll now be returning to my regularly scheduled Rooster.
Summary: After a one night stand with Hangman disrupts the fresh start you were looking for when moving to San Diego, the unexpected pregnancy forces you and Jake learn how to live with each other and tolerate one another. As the months go by, you slowly get to know the real Jake beneath the facade he puts on, but when old flames and work obstacles threaten to topple everything, your new relationship is put to the test.
WC: 4.6K+
Warnings: Cursing, light smut, pregnancy, no use of Y/N, alcohol, morning sickness
Series masterlist here
You looked down at the test, squinting one eye and then another, hoping your vision would blur and change the truth that was already staring up at you. Two pink lines.
“Shit,” you whispered.
Sighing, you wiped it off with toilet paper and popped on the pink cap, tossing it in your purse. You were late. In more ways than one.
Three weeks before
“That guy has been staring at you all night.” Lucy cocked her head to the side and took a deep swig out of her tequila drink. “He’s fucking hot.”
You laughed and glanced over your shoulder. Sure enough, the blond in a khaki uniform was leaning against the pool table, a wide grin on his face when you two made eye contact. You smiled before turning back to her. “He looks like a douche.”
“And?” she asked. “You need that in your life.”
Sighing, you tipped back your glass and emptied it. “I think I need a hiatus from men.”
“Those are literally the exact words that every girl who was about to meet the one has ever said,” Lucy replied, tugging at the cherry from her drink before flicking the stem back into the empty glass. “Mark my words, you’ll be married in a year.”
You threw your head back and laughed.
“I’m going to get us more drinks,” she said, scooping up your glass. “Besides, guess who is on his way over right now?”
“Lucy, don’t!” you started to say but she was already out of her seat, throwing a wink over her shoulder. You sighed and wiped your palms on your dress, quickly adjusting in the seat, anxiety and nerves coursing through your veins. You were going to kill her for leaving you alone.
“Hey there darlin’,” he said and you rolled your eyes which made him laugh. “Hey now, at least let me get more than three words out before you go rolling your eyes at me.”
“Sorry, force of habit,” you said, crossing your legs and turning toward where he had his elbow propped up on your table. “Can I help you?”
“You better stop being so mean, you’re going to make me go and fall in love with you.”
You let out a real laugh at that and he smiled, leaning in closer.
“You have a great laugh.”
“I bet you say that to every girl who walks through those doors.”
“Only the ones who have legs like yours.”
You were back to disliking him. He was gorgeous, all tanned skin, perfect hair, blindingly white teeth. His arm muscles rippled beneath his uniform, and you wanted to kick yourself for how turned on the uniform made you. Perhaps going to a Navy bar hadn't been the best decision, but it had been Lucy’s choice. “OK pretty boy,” you said softly. “Let’s not beat around the bush. What’s your game plan here?”
He grinned. “A straight shooter, I like it. You’re not even going to tell me your name sweetheart?”
“Kate,” you gritted out and he laughed again, leaning in and running a hand between your shoulder blades and down to your lower back. You shivered under his touch.
His lips grazed your ear. “That’s a pretty name, darlin’.”
When he pulled away, you saw just how green his eyes were. “And you are?”
“You can call me Hangman.”
You squinted. “Hangman? What the hell?”
He laughed. “Let me guess, you’re not involved with the Navy?”
Shaking your head you glanced over to where Lucy was propped up at the bar, new drinks set in front of her but a man with a mustache talking her ear off. She flicked hair behind one ear and dropped her hand to his thigh and you almost rolled your eyes, knowing what that move meant – you were going to be alone with Hangman for the rest of the night while Lucy fondled the mustache guy. “No, I’m here with a friend. Just moved here.”
Before you could object, Hangman slid into Lucy’s vacated seat. “New in town, huh? That explains why I’ve never seen you before.”
“Is that the best line you have?”
“Let me buy you a drink,” he said quickly, the suave act slowly melting away for a second. “Unless you have somewhere to be…” He trailed off, watching your line of sight go to Lucy at the bar where she was shamelessly making out with the guy in the Hawaiian shirt and you sighed.
“I’m free, I guess.”
He smiled, a genuine smile, and stood up. “What’ll it be?”
“Whatever gets me drunk,” you replied callously and he laughed.
“Coming right up.”
Two long island iced teas later, you were arguably drunk. Hangman had scooted his chair around the table until you two were knocking knees. Lucy had grabbed her purse earlier before making a giddy goodbye and hopping into a truck with mustache man, who Hangman patted on the back.
“You two know each other?” you asked, leaning on the back of his chair.
He smiled. “Rooster? Yeah, we’re on the same squad.”
“What the fuck kind of name is Rooster?”
Hangman whistled. “You sure do have a sailor’s mouth, darlin’. It’s a callsign. Kind of like a nickname.”
You tipped your head. “Got it. Let me guess, you’re from Texas.”
He smirked. “How’d you know?”
“I did six months in Dallas last year for work. Can’t say I’ll miss the heat, but I will miss the barbeque.”
“Woman after my own heart,” he said.
For a moment, the two of you locked eyes and the noise of the bar faded away. Hangman smiled at you and you smiled back immediately.
“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked softly. “We could grab something to eat.”
You stood up and smoothed your dress down with your hands, draping your purse strap over your shoulder. “Or we could stop pretending, and just go to your place.”
A twinkle overtook his eyes. “You got me there, darlin’.”
Hangman had his hands inside your shirt before the door was even closed. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, his mouth hot on the side of your neck.
“Oh fuck,” you whispered as he trailed kisses along your shoulder, nudging the strap of your dress off.
He reached down and slid his hands under your ass, lifting you into the air and you yelped. You peppered kisses on his skin as he carried you effortlessly to the master bedroom, setting you down gently on the bed and leaning over you, one hand coming to stroke your hair behind your ear. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered and the deep tone of his voice made you shiver in anticipation.
“I want you to fuck me,” you murmurred, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him toward you. “Ruin me.”
He groaned into your mouth, one hand trailing down and brushing against your thigh, bunching up your dress until his fingers touched the delicate lace of your panties. You moaned beneath him and he rubbed you over the thin material. “God, you’re sexy,” he whispered, burying his head between your neck and shoulders, fingers slipping beneath the lace to touch you directly. “Fucking dripping and moaning for me. How’d I get so lucky?”
Your fingers dug into his back and you clawed at his shirt until he stood up, unbuttoning the khaki top quickly to reveal a ridiculously impressive body. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched as he grinned, unzipping the matching pants and sliding them down until he was standing in front of you in his boxers.
“Enjoying the show?”
You rolled your eyes. “God, you’re cocky.”
He laughed and knelt down in front of you at the edge of the bed, fingers running up your legs until he grabbed the waistband of your underwear and yanked them off. “Baby, you have no idea.”
Afterwards, lying in his arms, you realized you didn't even know his real name.
“You said Hangman was a nickname, right? What did you call it, a caller or something?”
He chuckled, which bounced your arm that was slung over his sweaty chest. “A callsign. And yeah, it is.”
“So what’s your real name? Feel like I should probably know after what we just did.”
His thumb traced down your arm. “Jake Seresin.”
You nodded. “Well then, it was nice to meet you Jake.” You pulled your arm away and started to stand.
Jake reached out and grabbed your wrist, planting a kiss on the underside. “Where are you going, sweetheart? It’s late.”
You pulled the sundress back on over your head. “I kind of have a rule. No sleepovers. It helps make sure we don’t get attached.”
He sat up, covering himself with the white sheet. “What makes you think we shouldn’t get attached?”
A laugh slipped through your teeth as you stepped into the panties Jake had ripped off only an hour earlier. “I know exactly what kind of guy you are, Hangman. It’s all about the chase. Well, you’ve had me. Let’s not pretend this was something else.”
“Hey, Kate,” he said, standing up and pulling his boxers back on. “Come on, it’s not like that. Please stay? I want you to.”
You started down the hall, grabbing your purse from where you had dropped it in the foyer. The house, you had to admit, was really nice. A lot cleaner than you had expected, and well decorated. Devoid of roommates, apparently, unlike the sublet you had for the next month. “I said use me. You used me. I promise, I’m not put out.”
“Wait,” he said, reaching out and grabbing your arm. You spun around to see he had pulled on a t-shirt and shorts while you were storming out. “At least let me drive you home? It’s late and I don’t want you to get in an Uber.”
Sighing, you checked your phone. A missed call from Lucy and three texts asking where you had ended up. The final one, time stamped at one o’clock, had been sent more than an hour ago. “Fine, if you insist.”
Jake smiled and grabbed his car keys from the entryway table, sliding on a pair of sneakers. He opened the door and dropped a hand to your lower back, guiding you toward his truck. “I do insist.”
The ride was quiet and awkward, your knee bouncing uncontrollably. Jake snuck glances at you during the twenty minute drive but you refused to make eye contact.
“So, uh, you said you were new to town. What do you do?”
You turned to him, his eyes trained on the road, muscular hands loosely gripping the wheel. “We don’t have to make small talk. You already slept with me. You did it, you secured the bag.”
“Jesus, woman,” he said. “I’m trying to be decent, OK? Maybe I actually want to know.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you said, leaning back against the leather seat. “I’m sorry. I’m being terrible.”
“It’s OK,” he sighed. “All the stuff you said, about the chase. You were right.”
“Trust me, I know. I know your type.”
“Let me guess, shitty ex-boyfriend?” You didn’t answer, so he pressed. “Or maybe a not so ex-boyfriend.” Then, “Wait, do you have a boyfriend?” It came out quieter than the other two sentences and you looked over to see Jake sneaking a peek at you. There was almost a note of anxiety in his voice. Doubt.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You could feel his tension melt away. “I’m in PR, just started with a new agency. I lived in New York before.”
“New York, huh?” he said, scratching his neck. “So you’re a city girl.”
You laughed. “Yeah, I guess you can say that. I don’t know, I’ve bounced around a lot. I’m kind of the anywhere-but-here girl. You know the type.”
Jake’s eyes rolled over you. “So you don’t plan on staying long?”
You shrugged. “Not sure. I’m still getting used to the damn sun. I’ve only been here five days.”
He whistled. “Five days? God, you are absolutely fresh.”
“Just the type that guys like you sniff out in dive bars.”
A laugh erupted from his side of the cab. “You’re quick, and a little mean. I kind of love it.”
Despite yourself, you smiled. “Takes a certain kind of man to love women who are mean to them. Usually they’re British.” He laughed again. “That’s me, on the right.”
Jake slowed down and pulled the car over to the curb, throwing it into park and cutting the engine.
“Thanks for the ride,” you said, reaching for the door handle. Jake reached out and placed his hand on your thigh.
“Kate. I had a nice time.”
“Yeah, me too.” You meant it. He was a good fuck, and hot as all hell. Plus, he had driven you home whereas most men would haven’t had the decency to call the Uber for you. “Goodnight, Jake.”
“Can I at least get your number? Maybe see you again?”
You nodded. “Sure.” He held out his phone and you opened up a new contact page, typing in your details. “Use it, or don’t.”
He smirked. “Goodnight, Kate.”
You smiled and climbed out of the passenger seat. As you shut the front door of the townhouse, you watched Jake watching you from the truck, waiting to make sure you got inside safely. Once the door was shut, he drove off. You leaned back against the door and closed your eyes.
You’d probably never see the man again in your life.
***
“Do you have any other questions?”
You looked down at your hands, gripped tightly together over your hospital gown-clad lap. “Um.”
The doctor reached out and rested a hand on your knee. “I know, it’s a lot. But we’ll see you fairly regularly, and we’ll be sending you home with a lot of information so be sure to read through it and you can call my office any time with questions.”
You nodded. “Thanks, Doctor.”
She stood and smiled. “Congratulations, again. I’ll see you in a month.”
The doctor left the room and you quickly got dressed. At the front desk, a nurse handed you an armful of pamphlets and paperwork. The sun outside was shining so damn bright, and you slid on a pair of shades, struggling under the bulk of the paperwork to get the car door open.
“Fuck,” you muttered as a few sheets went flying in the wind. Your cell phone rang at the same time, and you stomped on the paper to keep them from blowing away as you reached for the phone.
“Hello?”
“So? What did they say?” Lucy was shaky on the other end. “Sorry, I tried to wait and give you space but I couldn’t.”
You grabbed the paper from the ground and stuffed it into your tote, sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the car. “I’m definitely pregnant.”
“Shit.” And then, “Are you keeping it?”
You sighed and leaned back against the leather headrest. “Fuck, I don’t know. I’m twenty seven. I have a life. I have a job. I can do this, if I want to. Like realistically I can afford a baby.”
“So you’re doing it then?”
The air conditioning kicked in, fluttering your hair and cooling your flushed face. “Yeah, I think I am.”
“I’m really happy for you, sweetie,” she said quietly. The two of you paused before she asked what you knew she was going to say next. “Are you going to tell him?”
You groaned and pulled the car into reverse. “I mean, I think I have to. He deserves to know, right? It’s his kid.”
“But do you like, want him to be involved?”
“I don’t even know the guy, Luce. What if he’s a freak? What if he’s like a bad guy and is just going to leave us anyway? Maybe I shouldn’t even bother telling him. It’s not like we run in the same circles or anything, he would never find out.”
Lucy, despite being the life of the party and the instigator of the friend group, always knew what to say to bring you back to reality. “How do you know unless you try? He could be a really good guy.”
“True.”
“Also he totally had a chance to kill you and he didn’t, so points in his favor already.”
You laughed and flicked your blinker, turning onto your street. “I guess. Listen, I’m pulling into my place. I’ll talk to you later?”
“OK, love you.”
“Love you too.”
Later that night, as you sat surrounded by the paperwork from the clinic, almost as if by fate a text lit up your phone.
Hey, it’s Jake. Sorry for reaching out so late, we were called on a mission right after we met. How are you?
You scoffed and pushed the phone aside, picking up the spoon and shoveling more ice cream into your mouth. It buzzed again.
I promise I’m not making that up, even though it sounds like a lame excuse. I’d really like to see you again, get a drink if you’re free? What about tomorrow?
This was it. Your perfect chance to tell him. But somehow the notion that he wanted to see you made it worse. Before, you had been able to convince yourself it was a one-time thing. That he didn’t mean anything. But here he was, asking you out. You had no choice but to believe that he was genuine.
What about coffee? Are you free at five?
He responded immediately. It’s a date. Let’s meet at Clayton’s on Orange Ave?
See you then. You clicked the phone button so the screen went black and put your head in your arms on the table.
***
Jake was already sitting when you arrived, five minutes early, so that was the first shock. The second was seeing him in civilian clothes. He wore a pair of jeans and cowboy boots, a flannel button down that hung from his ripped frame. If you hadn’t known he was from Texas already, you did now.
The door chimed as you stepped in, and Jake stood up quickly when he spotted you. He reached out and kissed your cheek as you approached and smiled before sitting back down.
“What can I get you?”
“A latte,” you said immediately and then backtracked. The doctor had said to minimize caffeine. “I’m sorry, actually can you make it an herbal tea.”
He nodded. “You got it.”
While Jake ordered the drinks, you fidgeted at the table. Your phone buzzed in your purse and you pulled it out, sneaking a peak.
DID YOU TELL HIM? A text from Lucy lit up the screen. You sighed and turned it on do not disturb, sliding it back into the bag just as Jake reappeared.
“Your tea,” he said, setting it down, along with a cup of black coffee. “And I can’t refuse a cinnamon roll, so I got one to share.”
You smiled although the smell made your stomach roll. You had only had one bout of morning sickness so far, and you didn’t want it repeated. “That’s sweet, thanks.”
“So have you settled in?”
You nodded. “Yeah, I’m finally getting a little bit of a routine. We’re definitely not in New York anymore.”
Jake took a sip of his coffee and chuckled. “Definitely. I went to New York once and have to say, I didn’t enjoy it.”
“Did you stay in Times Square?” He nodded. “Well that was mistake number one. And you probably did all the gross tourist stuff too, like the wax museum and going to Starbucks on fifty-ninth.”
He laughed. “I didn’t have a tour guide like you to show me around, so yes, I did all of the touristy things. Even went to a Broadway show.”
“Well, Broadway is the one tourist attraction that doesn’t count,” you said, sipping at the tea. “It’s amazing. I used to go as often as I could.”
“So you’re a showtunes kind of girl?”
You grimaced. “God, no. I actually hate musicals like musical movies and TV and stuff. But Broadway is different. It’s an experience.”
He nodded. “I get that.”
The conversation stalled and you looked at him. He was classically good looking, even without the benefits of the dim lighting and alcohol at the bar. He looked like a damn Ralph Lauren model in the flesh, drinking coffee and picking up bites of cinnamon roll between two fingers. Your eyes zoomed in on his fingers and you had flashbacks of him touching you, gripping you, sighing your name into your neck as he pushed against you. A flush appeared on your cheeks and you crossed your legs trying to get him out of your mind.
“So you were away, huh?”
Jake gave you a tight smile. “Yeah. Can’t say more than that, really, but I am sorry for not calling.”
You waved a hand in front of you breezily. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t expect you to.”
“But you said yes to this?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I guess you surprised me.”
Jake grinned. “I’ve been known to do that once in a while.”
You opened your mouth to tell him. To just say it. And in that moment, his phone started to buzz on the table where it lay face up. You watched as he glanced down, his face going white.
“I am so sorry,” he said quickly, grabbing the phone and standing. “I have to take this. I’ll be right back.”
And then he was hurrying outside, phone glued to his ear. You watched through the cafe window as he nodded along to the person on the other end of the line, lips in a tight frown. After a few minutes, Jake sighed and ended the call, running his hand through his hair before turning back to the cafe.
“Kate, I’m so sorry,” he said, hovering near the table. “A few of my teammates went down during a test flight. They’re fine, but I have to go to the hospital.”
You stood up and put your hand on his arm. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. But they’re OK?”
He nodded, a little pale. “Yeah, they’re fine. I’m sorry to run, but …” He trailed off and you shook your head.
“Don’t worry about it. Here,” you said, scooping up his half drunk coffee cup and dropping it off at the trash station, along with the pastry in its dish and your empty teacup. “Do you need a ride?”
Jake shook his head. “No, I drove my truck.”
“Come on then,” you said, placing one hand on his upper back and steering him toward the door. Outside, you spotted the blue Jeep Wrangler he had driven you home in weeks before. Jake fussed with his keys. “You better get going.”
His head hung low and when he looked at you, you saw a sort of fear that you didn’t expect. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“Hey,” you said, stepping closer and placing both hands on either side of his face. “It’s going to be OK. You said they were OK, right? There’s nothing to worry about.”
Jake nodded and you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his cheek. “Alright then. We can talk later. But right now, you have to go.”
For a brief second, his fingers swept across your waist as you pulled away from the kiss. “Thank you. Listen, I’m sorry again for bailing.”
“No sweat.”
“I’ll call you, OK?”
You nodded. “Now go.”
Jake shot you a brief smile and looked both ways before jogging across the street to his truck. He waved as he peeled away and you went back to your own car. On the drive home, you were struck with the urgent need to vomit, and pulled over on a side street and opened the driver’s door. Sitting back in the seat, you groaned and popped a mint in your mouth.
Everything was becoming all too real.
Jake called two days later, but you were in a meeting and missed it. He texted you afterward.
Hey, Kate, I’m sorry again about the other day. Phoenix and Bob (those are my teammates) they’re doing alright, but it's good I went. Listen, I’m free tonight if you want to do something?
You let the text sit there all day. You stared at it again as you ate dinner, and while you watched TV in bed in your pajamas. You were scared. Scared to actually fall for him, and even more terrified to tell him about the pregnancy because you knew it would only end one way. He would run and you would let him.
Finally, after an hour of tossing and turning, you threw off the comforter and slipped on a pair of shoes. Trying to find his house by memory was proving harder than you thought it would be, and just as you were about to turn around and drive home, you were being insane, the little yellow house appeared just where you remembered. It was larger than your memories, but you knew it was his by the blue Jeep parked outside. Pulling up behind it, you cut the engine and ran your hand over your stomach. You hadn’t even bothered to change, just wearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top with a sweatshirt pulled over on your way out.
Your hands shook, the keys rattling in them, as you approached the door. Before you could chicken out, you leaned in and rang the doorbell.
Jake answered almost immediately, wearing just a pair of gray sweatpants and no shirt.
“Kate!” he said, shock painted across his handsome face. “What are you doing here?”
“You said you were free tonight,” you said quietly.
“God, you are full of surprises,” he said, looking you up and down. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but are those pajamas?”
You shrugged. “Kind of a spur of the moment decision if we’re being honest.”
“Well come in,” he said, opening the door wider. Inside, there was a faint yellow glow. It looked so comforting. It almost made you hate what you were going to say.
“I can’t stay for long,” you murmured. “I just, there was something I wanted to say the other day, before you got the call.”
“OK.” Jake leaned one hand against the doorframe, his face contorted into concern. “What is it?”
You sucked in a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”
You watched as Jake’s face dropped. His slow smile dissolved into confusion then denial right in front of your eyes. He pushed up off the door frame, tucking his hands into his pockets, before pulling one hand out again and brushing over his hair. “I, um, are you sure?”
You nodded, pulling out a sheet of paper from your purse. “This is the test from the doctor.”
Jake swallowed and reached out for the paper. You pressed it into his hand and watched him read the words. Reading was so much different from just hearing something. It started to sink in.
“Listen, and I meant to do this in a nicer way, a better way, at the cafe the other day. I just want you to know that I do plan on keeping the baby. But I don’t need your help. I’m an adult, I have a stable job and I’m ready. It wasn’t planned, obviously, but I can do this. So this isn’t me coming here asking you for something. For anything. I just thought you should know.”
Jake gripped the paper tightly before looking up at you. “Kate, come inside, it’s cold out. I don’t want my baby catching a cold in there.” He smiled and held out a hand, guiding you into the glowing light of the house. As you passed him in the door frame, Jake smiled at you and you felt it all the way to your toes.
He wasn’t who you had expected.
A/N: Like the title, which is loosely named after a favorite Kacey Musgraves song, suggests this will take a little bit to heat up between the two of them so not sure how many installments we're working with yet. Curious to hear people's thoughts!
Tag list: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rosiahills22 @blue-aconite @barbiegirlbaby @justanothermagicalsara @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @lgg5989 @sqrlgrl22
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