i’m here to write about my fictional boyfriends ◡̈
[ ♡ ] the spider-man masterlist.
[ ♡ ] the top gun masterlist.
[ ♡ ] the twisters masterlist.
disclaimer. all the stories posted here are a work of fiction. names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.
⌗ ⸰ ₊⠀ all rights reserved. no part of my work is to be reposted / translated / used in any kind of platform without my permission. i only use this account to post my fanfiction for certain fictional characters.
hopping here really quick to make short announcement that i'll be moving all of my harry potter works to @hirayalore ! this is because i prefer posting my hp aus in a blog that solely posts for hp hehehe thank you ♡
the one where jake seresin likes to call it ‘welfare checks’ whenever he’s checking how you are—but let’s be real, everyone knows that it’s only an excuse he uses because he can’t seem to erase the uneasiness he feels whenever he knows you’re not fine.
pairing: jake seresin x fem!reader
word count: 5.8k
rating: NC-17
content: fluff, light angst, enemies to lovers au; ft. naval aviator!reader
warning/s: swearing, alcohol consumption, making out, sexual innuendos, daddy issues(?), mentions of feeling pressured, mentions of drunk driving (nobody drunk drives here though), mention of a near death experience, most likely wrong info about naval aviators and the nature of their job sksks i'm sorry this is strictly fiction okAY
opening note. idk how this ended up being almost 6k LMAO. but anyways, i was so inspired to write this one scene (which you can read below) and ended up just adding so many details and back story that now here we are???? hope you guys like it though! jake seresin brain rot is real and i'm admittedly a goner for—as glen once put it—navy draco malfoy 😭
Jake knocks on your door three times, patiently waiting and looking around the street as if he’s afraid that someone followed him here. He knows that it’s unwise to be at your doorstep at this hour, but he was done eavesdropping and subtly asking around about your absence, bothered that it’s been almost a week and you haven’t been attending training like you should be. He heard Phoenix tell Bob that you were taking a short break because of the near-death experience you had while flying along the course last time, in fact almost quitting entirely if it weren’t for Maverick who instead offered you to breathe for a few days and then come back to see if you still wanted out of the mission. You were considered by your fellow TOPGUN graduates to be one of the captain’s top candidates to lead the mission, so Jake understood why Maverick didn’t let you off the hook that easily.
A few seconds pass and he contemplates on knocking again or leaving, deeming this idea as ridiculous—but then he sees the lights open and you’re peeking through the curtain of the small window beside your front door, disappearing again only to unlock the dozen locks on your door and opening it to greet Jake who meets your gaze immediately.
“What the hell are you doing here?” is the first thing you say, flummoxed by his presence. You and him aren’t exactly the closest among the crew, and there have been several times in which you’ve displayed how annoyed you were by everything Jake either says or does.
“I’m visiting you,” he answers, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Why?”
“Because you haven’t been in training for a week now. Are you quitting or something?”
You stare at him, appearing in deep thought or perhaps attempting to read his mind, and suddenly, you’re closing the door.
Jake widens his eyes in surprise but is quick to extend a hand out to prevent you from doing so.
“Really?” he complains. “You’re going to slam the door in my face?”
“Look, Hangman,” you begin, sighing and making your tired state known, “if you’re here to give me shit, don’t, because I have no will to show you the patience I typically have on a normal basis.”
“I’m not here to give you shit.”
“Then what are you here for?”
“I told you—I’m visiting.”
“For what? To make sure that I’m not going back so that Maverick can assign you as team leader?”
He rolls his eyes. “No, I’m here to make sure you’re doing okay. I heard you’re doing fine, but I just wanted to see it for myself.”
You’re quiet again, and you revert back to staring at him, as if you’re waiting for him to admit that this is just some prank. Jake doesn’t say anything though, he just returns your stare, appearing sincere for once, worried and waiting for you to realize that he’s not aiming to piss you off every time an opportunity presents itself.
You open the door wider. “Now you see me.”
“You doing good?”
“I’m doing good,” you affirm. “Just… I don’t know. Going through some stuff. Mixed thoughts—feelings—I don’t think you’d understand.”
“Try me.”
“I don’t want to bother you.”
“I’m here and it’s past 11 p.m.,” he says. “If I didn’t want to be bothered, I would have done this welfare check another time.”
You snort at the term he used in visiting you. “Are you sure? You don’t peg me as a good listener, to be honest. I don’t want to pour my heart out and end up listening to your life story instead.”
“I’m not like that. I could be a good listener if I tolerate the person enough.”
“You hate me, though.”
He laughs. “I don’t hate you, Goldie.”
Goldie. Jake liked your call sign because he liked the way you scowled whenever he was the one who utters it. The story behind the name was that your very first squadron saw a picture of you wearing these ridiculous platform gold sneakers when they were snooping around your Facebook profile, finding a photograph taken years ago by your mother at some family gathering you no longer remember. Eventually the joke turned into them calling you Goldie, and when the callsign review board was held, every member of the squadron voted for it to be your call sign and got it approved.
“I find that hard to believe,” you say.
“I just like driving you insane,” he admits with a smirk, and now you’re more reminded of the Hangman you know. “It gives me great pleasure to get under your skin. You never know how to fake that look on your face whenever you’re mad—it’s very funny.”
“You’re a dick.”
“Sure.” He shrugs.
The edges of your mouth twitch. “Fine, come in. I have beer. Or wine if that’s what you prefer.”
Jake contemplates about it—because like what he thought of earlier when he arrived on your porch, it’s unwise to be here. It wasn’t like in TOPGUN or the Hard Deck wherein there were other people around you for him to always be cautious of his actions; he’s afraid that he slips up or let his repressed romantic interest in you get the best of him since he has you alone.
At the same time however, he just didn’t care enough about the consequences for him to miss this chance of getting to know you better.
“Beer would be nice,” he tells you as he steps inside.
You nod and turn to head to the kitchen.
The house is a standard bungalow. When you walk in, you’re met with the living room, and then a few steps away from that is the kitchen. On the left side of the house, there’s a hallway leading to what Jake assumed to be the bedroom and washroom. He takes a seat on the sofa upon your instruction, scanning his surroundings and taking in the actuality of the situation he allowed himself to be in.
“Here you go.” You hand him an opened beer and he mutters his thanks, watching you go to the chair near him and plop down.
There’s silence, the two of you just drinking. You engage in small talk for a while, conversing about the most trivial things and matters that he’s not that even keen to know. The topic bounces on and on, until he can’t help but finally break it, impatient now and wanting to know what’s really been going on with you for the past few days.
You smile, amused by his little outburst. “You really want to talk about what’s bothering me?”
“I'm certainly not here to drink and talk about how hot it is on the beach.” He points out. “Just get on with it. You don’t have to tell me your whole life story. Just tell me why you’ve been gone since the accident.”
He catches you wince at the mention of an accident. “I’m resting.”
“You’re resting?”
“Yeah. It’s what Maverick wants me to do. He insists that I take a breather and then go back once I’m feeling better.”
“And have you been feeling better?”
“No,” you admit. “Actually, I…” you hesitate, flickering your eyes to Jake who’s listening intently. “Fuck, I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You’re the last person I should be—”
“You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not comfortable with it.”
“I know. But that’s the thing, Hangman,” you say. “I think I have to tell someone about it or else I’ll end up more conflicted about the whole thing. And you know what? You might actually be the right person for this.”
“How come?”
“Because I don’t give a damn whether I have your approval or not.”
He scoffs out a laugh. “Wow. Thanks, I guess?”
You grin; you loved teasing him as much as he did the same to you. “I’m planning to quit.”
His hand halts as he’s raising it to get another sip of the beer. He didn’t expect you to drop the bomb that quickly. “What?”
“I want to quit.”
“Because of what? Because of a near death experience? I know your record, and this isn’t even the first time you experience an occurrence that involved—”
“It’s the third time,” you clarify before he’s even done speaking. “I promised myself I’d quit if I almost ended up dead three times.”
“That sounds ridiculous. You know that, right?”
“I never wanted to be a fighter pilot, Hangman.” You confess and he’s stunned by the revelation.
It seemed impossible and untrue. You graduated at the top of your class and you have the reputation of being one of the best in the field. Your leadership skills were top tier, your flying was superb, and you were fearless in the face of danger. He didn’t understand how a person who didn’t want this occupation to have all those qualities and be an overall amazing naval aviator.
“You’re lying,” he says, not knowing how to reply to that other than accusing you of being a liar.
You lean back on your chair, bringing your feet up and holding your knees together. “It’s because of my dad. It’s the typical shit you hear about a daughter wanting her dad’s approval. He’s just… he used to be a fighter pilot himself—and then he got into an accident, lost one of his legs after it happened, and got forced to retire.” You bring the rim of your beer bottle to your lips. “I think he was depressed for a while. He didn’t talk that much anymore and when he did, he was always so angry. Mom always encouraged him to talk to a therapist, just to release all the pent up frustration he must be feeling about what happened, but he refused. He didn’t believe in therapy. He was convinced that he could solve it all on his own.
“Anyway, I don’t know what I was thinking, but I thought if I could live the life he couldn’t continue and be a naval aviator myself, he’d feel better—or at least, he’ll be the father I used to have. Turns out I was right. Do you know how much he changed when I told him I sent an application to the Naval Academy? He was so pleased. He did a complete 360. Suddenly, it felt like I was his daughter again. It was clear to me then that if I wasn’t Goldie, I wasn’t anyone worth knowing.” You bite your lip, trying not to get emotional. Jake can see that, noticing how your lips are slightly quivering and how you’re avoiding eye contact. “But in a way, I still had some self-respect left. So that’s why I told myself that if I almost get myself killed in three different instances, I’d quit and I wouldn’t care about what Dad thinks. I’ll just go and live my life how I’d want to live it.”
“And last time was the third time.” He reiterates.
“Yep.”
He nods and downs the last gulps of beer.
There’s that silence again, but it’s not awkward. Jake is absorbing everything you just shared to him and you’re trying not to regret the fact that you told all of that to Jake. It’s a story you’re not used to disclosing to just anyone, especially not to someone like Jake who before this night was the reason why your temper was often brought to its highest limits. Yet you can’t deny that a huge weight has been lifted off your whole body thanks to the impromptu venting session; you appreciate the manner in which he stayed quiet and let you finish talking, not once interrupting and not once taking his attention away from you.
“Does Maverick know about this?” he asks.
“Yeah. I’m already drafting my request for resignation.”
“You know that most of the time, those requests get rejected, right?”
“Yeah.” You groan, finishing your beer as well. “But I don’t care. I’d at least try. Then if they won’t allow me, maybe I’ll just orchestrate a fourth near death experience and—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Jake cuts you off and you raise your eyebrows at him. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”
“I was just joking.”
“It’s not a good joke. You know better than to joke about things like that.” He’s serious, the most serious you’ve seen him in a long time.
He’s right. You know he is and it pains you to admit it to yourself. You swallow hard, abruptly ashamed. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just all over the place these days.”
“It’s fine.”
“I was being stupid.”
“You’re going through a hard time.”
“I’m sorry for trauma dumping.”
“It’s alright, Goldie.”
You stand up, getting his empty bottle and trudging to the kitchen to place them on the counter. “If you want to go, you’re free to. It’s late.”
“I can stay here if you need company.”
You laugh humorlessly. “I don’t need babysitting.”
“It’s not babysitting.” He pushes himself off his seat and follows you. “I just don’t feel good leaving you in this state. You’re clearly not okay.”
“I’m okay,” you correct him. “Like I said, I’m just all over the place these days. I need time alone to think and be sure of what I want to do.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you’d be a great loss to the Navy if you quit.”
You snort. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do. Why do you think I like pissing you off? It’s because you’re competition. You’re almost as good as me.”
You’re leaning on the counter and Jake’s standing beside you, his hand a few inches from your waist.
“Actually, I’m better than you, Hangman.” You smirk. “And maybe so is Rooster. He’s certainly better than you when it comes to being a leader.”
“Yeah, but I’m faster than him.”
“You’re reckless compared to him.”
“I can beat him in a dogfight.”
“He doesn’t leave his teammates behind.”
“Yeah, he forces them to go as slow as he is.”
“It’s not a bad thing. He’s being careful.”
“Slow doesn’t equate to being careful.”
“It doesn’t matter. I like him better than you anyways.”
“You like him better? You sure about that?”
You don’t know how it happened but you’re suddenly standing very close to Jake, your faces tilted towards each other that you’re certain if one of you moves any nearer, you’ll end up kissing. You’re reminded of how the squadron often teases you both, saying that the reason you bickered a lot was because of the sexual tension that both of you shared, but you always made an effort to deny it, declaring that there was no way in hell that you saw Hangman in the sense and you’d rather make out with a frog than the said cocky pilot.
Being in this situation with him right now though? After sharing a beer and letting yourself show your most vulnerable side to him? Seeing how genuinely concerned he is for you? How he actually see you as a highly skilled and capable naval aviator? It messes with your head a bit, makes you think that maybe you’re just really excellent with pretending that you’re not affected by his stupidly handsome smile, or drawn to gazing at his toned body whenever he’s in his uniform, or distracted when he’s sputtering off nonsense meant to rile you up and instead you’re noticing how pink his lips are, how soft they must be, how dozens of girls have fallen victim by his charm and how good he must at working those lips of his…
“You’re staring,” he whispers.
Your eyes move up. “What?”
Jake grins, like he understands what’s happening at this second. “You’re staring at my mouth, Goldie,” he says. “Is there something on my mouth?”
You shake your head. Your cheeks are warming up. Your heart is beating faster. You’re aware that he’s teasing, that he wants to get a reaction from you, and you’re annoyed that he’s getting what he wants. “It’s late,” you repeat your statement from earlier. “You should head back. Get some sleep.”
He thankfully steps back and you exhale.
“When are you coming back?” he asks.
“I’m not sure.” You start leading him to the front door.
Once you’re there and opening the door for him, he stops for a second, looking at you. “Hey, if you need someone to talk to… you can call me, alright?”
You find yourself smiling in amusement. “Tonight doesn’t make us friends, Hangman.”
“Good.” He returns the smile, sly and that teasing glint still in his eyes. “I don’t want to be friends.”
Before you can quip back a reply, he’s saying goodnight and marching down the steps of your porch, going inside his car and driving off.
****
You came back two days later and returned like you never left.
He didn’t talk to you again after that night. You didn’t call if ever you did need someone to talk to, and he didn’t approach you unless he really had something to say. You two weren’t avoiding the other per se; there just wasn’t a need to be within the other’s vicinity nor the obligation to initiate the conversation that much. However, in Jake’s case, he wanted to check on how you were doing, especially after being briefed on why you were having second thoughts about your position in the Navy—he just didn’t think it was okay for him to do so, not when he had a feeling that you didn’t want acknowledge the fact that you did tell him your story out of everyone in the squadron.
Eventually, it was decided and announced by Cyclone that Maverick would be appointed team leader to conduct the mission, seeing him to be the most fit among the graduates he was supposedly training for the job. Maverick chose Phoenix and Bob to accompany him, picked Rooster along with Payback and Fanboy to head the second strike team, and assigned Hangman as the emergency action pilot.
Jake saw how you were disappointed not to be given responsibility for anything for the mission, which didn’t make sense since you didn’t even want to be here in the first place. He figured you must have been looking forward to being appointed nonetheless, maybe driven by your desire to make your father proud still that you were willing to go on this dangerous operation to please him.
“Hey,” you called just as he was about to hop on his aircraft. “Be careful out there, okay?”
He grinned, tilting his head at you in a mocking manner that makes you regret for saying anything. “Are you going soft on me, Goldie?”
You scoffed, but you were flashing him a grin in an instant. “You wish. I just don’t want you to get yourself killed so I can do it myself.”
“Yeah, that’s totally why.”
“Shut up, Bagman.”
He gave you a wink before carrying on with what he was doing while you made a show of rolling your eyes before walking away.
After that, despite how the events weren’t as smooth sailing as you liked, nobody ended up arranging anyone’s funeral and Jake was even hailed as one of the heroes since he successfully saved Maverick and Rooster when they were heading back to the carrier.
And now, the whole squadron is doing some kind of post-mission celebration. It’s held in the Hard Deck, the bar near the naval base, and as Jake drinks with the rest of the crew and secretly relishes how everyone no longer saw him as only an arrogant pilot but an arrogant and reliable pilot, he finds himself trying to spot you among the crowd of aviators and every significant staff that made this mission successful, wishing he can know what are your thoughts about what has happened today.
“You see Goldie anywhere?” Jake asks Javy, placing the empty bottle of beer on the counter.
Javy scans the area and shakes his head. “No. But I think I saw her going out earlier.”
Jake nods.
Without further ado, he decides to go out of the bar and try starting his search there. He’s grateful he doesn’t need to explore the whole seaside to spot you plodding to where he’s guessing your car is parked, your legs wobbly and all, appearing you’re preoccupied with no regard to your surroundings that allow him to catch up beside you inconspicuously. As soon as you notice him though, you’re blinking multiple times, pausing for you’re surprised to see him here when you know he should be with the others.
“Jake,” you say, and he ignores the odd feelings that erupt in his chest upon hearing his name from your lips. “What are you—”
“Welfare check,” he explains. “Where are you going?”
You laugh out loud. He realizes you’re a bit drunk. “These welfare checks are becoming frequent.”
“It’s the second time. Don’t exaggerate.”
“Two times is too much for you.”
He changes the subject. “You’re not planning to drive home when you’re drunk, are you?”
“No, I’m not that stupid.” You scoff. “But I was planning to sleep in my car, just until I’m feeling okay to drive.”
“I can drive you home.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Let me do it anyway.”
You stare at him and he holds the stare, green eyes piercing through yours that you can feel right in your core. You’re mesmerized, caught in the moment, similar to that time in your kitchen, and before you understand your actions, you’re handing him your keys and going to the passenger’s side.
****
You don’t verbally invite him in but he follows you regardless, taking the sign of you opening the door wider for a few seconds as he walks from behind the invitation itself. You allow him to act as some shadow as you cross the living room and go to the kitchen to get a water bottle from the fridge, no words spoken from the both of you, and it’s only when you turn around to say something that it’s dawning onto you how it was maybe a bad idea to have him over.
You trust Jake as a man who won’t take advantage of you, but you don’t trust yourself with the thoughts you’ve been having about him lately. After that night when he did his first ‘welfare check’, you couldn’t shake him off your mind as fast as you usually could; you’ve spent a lot of your free time thinking of him and how you don’t exactly hate being in his presence like you’ve been telling yourself. Worse, you’re considering how you might truly be attracted to his infamous charm, captivated by that Texan accent and confidence whenever he went, steering the attention of everybody in the room.
You watch him take slow strides in your direction. You’re not moving, you’re not attempting to get away, and when he stops directly in front of you, your heart is doing that thing again—palpitating and striving to burst out of your ribcage.
“Are you going forth with your resignation?” he suddenly asks.
“Not yet, I suppose. I talked to Maverick about it today, and he’s offering to endorse me to the Admiral and Vice Admiral to make me an instructor in TOPGUN.”
“And are you taking it?”
“Maybe.”
The lights inside the house aren’t open. It’s only the lamp you had beside your sofa; its warm hue illuminates your faces and creates this sense of intimacy that you can’t brush off. Jake’s expression tells you he’s in deep thought, as if he’s having a dilemma of his own, and you’re under the impression that perhaps he’s confused with what’s going on right now as much as you are.
“If you take that job, then you’re staying here, aren’t you?” he guesses, and you shrug.
“Most likely.”
“Then there’s no chance we’ll be deployed again in the same squadron.”
“I wouldn’t say there’ll never be a chance again but—it’s a high possibility,” you say. “Why? Can’t stand to be directly in the same team as me anymore?”
He chuckles. “Partly.”
“Partly?” you exclaim. “You really don’t like me that much, huh?”
“It’s not that. You think I’d be here if that was the case?”
“You said the other day you didn’t want to be friends.”
“Yeah, and being friends is still the last thing I want with you.”
“Fine by me. My feelings are very much mutual, I assure you.”
“Are you sure? Maybe you’re not understanding what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“I mean I’m glad we won’t be placed in the same squadron again because there wouldn’t be a conflict of interest.”
You’re left speechless, the implication of his words causing you to overthink. Is he telling you what you think he’s telling you? Are you completely missing his point? Is he just messing with you? Playing mind tricks to have you wrapped around his finger? Whatever it is—whether your suspicions are right or not—you don’t let yourself think about it further, for this tension between the both of you is heightening and there’s a voice in your head that tells you to kiss him to find out what he really sees you as.
So you do. You kiss him, closing the gap between your lips and throwing your arms around his neck to tug him closer. It’s probably because you’re drunk that you’re brave enough to execute such a crazy gesture; you think how liquid courage indeed does wonders to your brain and your ability to know what’s wrong and right. And you can literally hear the gears in Jake’s brain moving as he stands there, hesitant at first to reciprocate, but eventually succumbing to it with an intensity you didn’t know he’s capable of giving, a hand falling on your hip while the other presses against your cheek, his fingertips inching forward to your hair that you quietly moan at.
Every sense you have is enhanced as the two of you make out. You can discern the pounding of your hearts; you can hear every pleased sound he makes as well as yours; you’re aware of every action he does, what he decides to do with his hands which moves to your waist, to your back, and lower… and even lower than that…
However, it ends as fast as it starts, and before you can properly react, Jake’s already breaking the kiss.
He looks grudging. It’s clear that he didn’t want to stop. “You’re drunk,” he whispers, an explanation to why he still did.
“Just tipsy,” you correct, about to try kissing him again but he dodges it, instead placing a lingering kiss on your cheek that spreads chills all over.
“We’re not sleeping together unless you’re sober.” His lips are on your ear, and you’re awfully getting mixed signals. It’s like he’s saying no yet continuously seducing you.
“I’m not that drunk.”
“I drove you home because you are.”
“No, you insisted on driving me home.”
“Because you were planning to sleep in your car, Goldie. Come on, are you seriously arguing with me on this?”
You groan, frustrated. Your head is starting to hurt because of the aftermath of the kiss and the thinking and the analyzing when it comes to what he’s saying to you and the actions he’s showing tonight. “Am I getting the signals wrong? Isn’t the reason you went here because you want to sleep with me? You just told me you didn’t want to be friends—because obviously, friends don’t fuck.”
Jake’s laughing once more. It certainly doesn’t seem you’re sober from the way you’re talking to him, too blunt and careless. “You didn’t read the signals wrong. I do want to sleep with you.”
“Then why are you rejecting me? I’m practically begging here. It’s goddamn embarrassing.”
“____,” he utters your name, still grinning in amusement yet his features are softer now as he stares at your half-lidded eyes boring into him, “if you were any other girl who’s asking me, I’d gladly sleep with you. You’re not some girl though—and I don’t want to fuck this up.”
“What?”
“I want to date you.”
“Okay, hold on.” You whip your head back in shock but you’re not pushing him away which Jake takes as a good sign. “Are you kidding? You better not be messing with me right now.”
“I’m not messing with you.”
“There’s no way in hell you want to date me, Hangman.”
“I’m pretty sure I do.”
“You don’t even know me that well.”
“It’s not like I’m asking you to elope and run away with me.” He chuckles and steps away, giving you a bit of room to breathe. “I’m just saying I like you and I want to get to know you better.”
You stare at him, waiting for the punchline that’s never going to arrive. “You’re nuts.”
“Hey, you’re the one who kissed me.”
“Yeah, ‘cause I thought you only wanted sex!”
“I still want sex.” He smirks and you squint at him in distaste. “But after a couple dates maybe. I take it slow with women I actually like.”
“You take it slow? You?”
“In relationships and in bed—if that’s your thing.”
“God, you’re giving me a migraine.”
You head to the part of the kitchen where you have a pouch of medicine for instances like these. From your peripheral vision, you see Jake already getting your unfinished water bottle to hand it to you as soon as you popped the aspirin in your mouth.
“We can talk about this tomorrow,” he says. “You should rest.”
“I should wake up from this nightmare.”
“I didn’t know jumping on me and begging for sexual intercourse was part of your nightmares, Goldie.”
“Fuck you.”
He grins. “Go to bed. I’ll leave right after.”
“How are you going back to the Hard Deck?”
“I’ll book an Uber.”
“Okay.”
You let Jake usher you to your bedroom, saying that he’ll visit you first thing in the morning. You tell him that he doesn’t have to bother but he replies that he needs to do another welfare check which you roll your eyes at, reckoning that it was cute the first time but now it was getting old and corny. He just laughs at you, for what seems like the nth time that evening, the reality of what happened between the both of you is beginning to sink in—and you’re not freaking out anymore. You think you kind of like it; you like the idea of Jake taking you seriously and conveying how serious he is by making his intentions clear.
“Good night, darlin’,” he says, brushing a portion of your hair away from your face.
You take a deep breath. You still kind of want to jump on him still but you immediately push those inappropriate thoughts away.
“Good night, Jake.”
****
The next day, a huge part of you genuinely thinks that everything that transpired last night was only an infuriating almost-sex dream.
You would have slept all day if it wasn’t for the heat of the sunlight seeping through your windows. When you opened your eyes, you saw that it was past 11 a.m. and your head was already killing you, causing you to sit up and head groggily towards the kitchen to wash your face, brush your teeth, and find the aspirin that could help with the headache. You’re the type of person who prevents a matter from worsening while it’s still possible, and you don’t want to spend the rest of your day wincing and complaining about your condition when it could easily be solved.
The moment you swallow the medicine, your brain thinks it’s the perfect time to bombard you with memories of what commenced the day prior. In an instant, you’re remembering the drinking, and then Jake driving you home, that odd tension between you two, and—oh, God. The kiss. The conversation after the kiss. Jake confessing what he felt for you and what he was going to do about it now that he said it out loud.
As if on cue, a knock pulls you away from your thoughts and like a robot, you mechanically go to your door to greet whoever it is that’s on the other side. You don’t even have the energy to peek through the curtains first like you usually do, and you realize that it’s a huge mistake that you forgot that step because once you’re swinging the door open, there’s Jake on your porch.
“Woah, not so fast.” He puts a firm hand on your door as you attempt to shut it on his face, very reminiscent of the other night. “I see you’re not planning on using an amnesia card on me because of yesterday.”
You grimace at the reminder. “Go away. My head hurts and I can’t deal with you today.”
“Good thing I bought hangover soup then. Can I come in?”
“No.”
“What if I say please?”
“Still no.”
“Alright, come on,” he’s still resisting the force you’re putting on the door to close it, “at least take the soup.”
You glance at the paper bag he’s holding and reach for it. However, he slyly moves it to the opposite direction.
“Hangman.” You grit your teeth.
“If you’re taking the soup…” he trails, “then that means you’re agreeing to a date. Will you still take it?”
It’s ridiculous. It’s such a middle school tactic, you think—yet there’s a little something fluttering inside your chest, a bit amused at how Jake is approaching this. There’s truly nothing like a man who goes out of character for the woman he adores; from the manner in which he’s acting, it’s apparent that he’s not afraid to show you a side of his personality that isn’t the usual macho, cocky, and self-absorbed one. Somehow, even if you’re aware that he’s going towards the cheesy route, you’re digging it.
With a roll of your eyes, you snatch the paper bag from his grasp and saunter back to your kitchen.
“Are you coming in or what?” you call, noticing that he hasn’t stepped in.
He strides to where you are, this cheeky look on his face as he reverts to his standard overconfident self. You remark how he goes after you, soon caging you by the sink while you’re getting the utensils from its designated cabinet to use for this so-called hangover soup he brought with him. You’re not fazed despite the proximity and how this scene mirrors last night when you face him, even raising your chin a bit higher to appear further composed.
“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he says.
Jake makes a familiar show of his eyes flashing from your eyes to your lips, smirking, and just when you think he’s leaning down to continue where you left off, you tease him by placing a palm on his face and gently shoving his face away.
“Shut up, Bagman.”
gentle reminder: this author is a sucker for validation so please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts about this! ♡
the one where getting under the skin of the gryffindor quidditch captain, oliver wood, is your favorite hobby.
pairing: oliver wood x fem!reader
word count: 0.7k words
rating: PG-15
content: fluff, established relationship au; ft. ravenclaw!reader, quidditch captain!reader
warning/s: none
“Unbelievable,” Oliver Wood mutters as he spots you and the whole Ravenclaw Quidditch team already flying around the pitch. The sun is only about to rise, the fog surrounding the place just starting to clear, and he’s becoming more annoyed at the fact that not only are your team stealing their time, but even managed to be here earlier than they are.
What makes it worse is that he knows that he’s the first one who reserved it for training since the match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw is fast approaching. And to further add to that, he particularly remembers reminding you that you better not take over any of the days he intends to let his team practice when he (stupidly) showed you his timetable for classes and Quidditch sessions.
“____!” He shouts your name, and upon hearing it from below, you look at him, a smirk automatically making its way on your lips.
“Let’s take a short break, everyone!” you instruct your team, flying down then and dropping down right in front of Oliver. “Good morning, Captain Wood. Fancy seeing you here.”
The formality triggers Oliver’s annoyance even more, but for the rest of the Gryffindor team who remain standing behind him, it brings them to hide their snickers and amused expressions.
After all, they—and pretty much the whole student body—are quite aware that you and Oliver have been dating for almost two years now, and this thing happening right here is just one of your schemes to playfully get on your competitive boyfriend’s nerves.
“____,” Oliver says your name again with a sigh this time, voice not daring to go a volume higher now that you’re near despite the situation, “please tell me why the bloody hell are you and your team on this pitch this morning?”
You put on your best innocent expression. “Well, we’re training, of course.”
“Yes, but I can specifically recall that I booked this pitch for the whole day. So, it’s a great wonder to me why I’m seeing you Ravenclaws here.”
“Hm, are you sure you booked it the whole day though? From the schedule that you showed me, it says there that it starts at 9AM, which is…” you glance at your wristwatch, “two hours from now. Meaning until then—”
“You have the freedom to use the pitch,” Oliver deadpans.
You grin. “Exactly, my love. You and your team can certainly wait, right? Though I’d appreciate it if you don’t hang around here while we’re playing. I might accuse you of stealing our strategy.”
“Strategy? Didn’t know you had one when we take into account the way you play.”
“Well, considering I’ve already won two games against you, maybe apparently not having a strategy might work on Gryffindor too.”
“One game was won by default.”
“And the other one?”
“Pure luck, of course.”
You laugh, and Oliver’s lips twitch, like he’s suppressing to do the same just to commit to the act he’s doing.
“Can we head to the Great Hall first for breakfast, Wood?” A Weasley twin pipes in amidst your impromptu staring contest with your boyfriend, causing Oliver to glance behind him and nod reluctantly.
“Fine. The rest of you can go get breakfast. But we meet here at exactly 9AM. Got it?”
The team says a chorus of yes and proceeds on walking back to the direction of the castle. Oliver, however, stays in his spot and raises his eyebrows at you, the mask of annoyance seen on his face a while ago seemingly gone now.
“What?” you ask, still with that teasing grin of yours.
“You promised.”
“I didn’t promise anything.”
“You told me you weren’t going to steal any of my days for Quidditch practices.”
“Technically, I’m not stealing as it is not your time yet.”
“Always such a smartass.”
“That’s what you get for dating a Ravenclaw,” you say, mounting your broom before giving him a quick kiss on the mouth and dashing back upwards where your other members are already zooming around.
Oliver shakes his head in disbelief; it’s unfair how you can get away with shenanigans that he typically would curse another team for. “I expect the pitch to be empty by 8:55, alright?” he bellows, just so you can hear him from where you’re situated.
“Aye, aye, Captain!”
gentle reminder: this author is a sucker for validation so please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts about this! ♡
Author is a sucker for validation and I am a sucker for good banter. I am a button pusher by nature (once I get comfortable) so this is so relatable to me, not to mention hilarious to read. Thank you for sharing this with us!
[ 7:23 A.M. ] “god, ____, you’re killing me here.”
you glared at jake. you wanted to retort that if anyone had the right to claim that they were being killed at this second, it would be you, thanks to your annoying fever. after all, you have been glued to your bed since yesterday, only getting up when you needed to pee or wished to rummage through the fridge, trying to find something to eat that your appetite might be kind enough to accept. so far, a half-glass of orange juice has managed to get down your throat, as well as a few spoonfuls of rice porridge.
“how the hell am i supposed to leave you like this?” he added when you didn’t answer. “should i make a call and say i’m rejecting the deployment?”
“is that even allowed?”
“no. i’m pretty sure they’ll throw me in the brig and give me a bad discharge or something.”
“then you should leave now, jake.” you weakly pushed his thigh. he was standing beside the bed, dressed in his naval aviator uniform, this permanent worried expression etched on his face. “i promise, i’ll live. it’s just some stupid cold.”
he didn’t move.
“jake.”
“what do you expect me to do?” he raised his arms up in frustration, voice raising a bit. he sometimes had the bad habit of converting his concern into a display of anger. “my girlfriend’s sick. her temperature’s not lowering, she lives alone, and i’m about to leave her for three months because my job demands it. i’m sorry if i want to ditch my patriotic duty for a goddamn day!”
you sighed. you weren’t sure how you were going to make the situation better either, and being scolded by jake didn’t help. it only worsened your headache, this ringing bothering your ears heightening for a second.
“shit, i’m sorry.” you suddenly heard jake mutter almost immediately when he finished talking, and he crouched down to your level, placing a hand over cheek. “i did it again, didn’t i?”
“turned your anger on me? yeah.”
guilt washed over him further. “i’m sorry for being a dick. you didn’t deserve that.”
“it’s alright, babe.” you placed your palm over his hand, a small smile making its way on your lips to appear stronger than you were. “we both know this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. we’re supposed to be sneaking in a quickie before i drive you to the airport and instead i’m sick.”
jake laughed at that. “i hate that i can’t even kiss you right now.”
“i know. i hate it too.”
“i hate that i need to leave.”
“if only you didn’t have to.”
“you sure you’ll be fine?” he asked.
“yeah, positive.” you replied. “i mean, this isn’t the first time i’ve been sick on my own. i’m a grown woman. i can take care of myself.”
“that’s another thing i hate.”
“don’t worry.” you kissed his wrist. “once i’m back on my feet, i’ll tell you.”
that seemed to ease him a little. “i expect you to tell me you’re okay as soon as possible, alright?”
“i’ll even write it in paragraph form with pictures if you want.”
“i’m being serious.”
you smiled wider, sheepish. “yes, sir. i’ll update you as soon as possible.”
he rolled his eyes at your playfulness and leaned in to give your forehead a long kiss. “don’t forget to drink your meds on time. i’ll tell marjorie to check on you every now and then.” marjorie was your elderly neighbor who had a dog you often looked after when she had lengthy errands to do.
you nodded once more, and with a final kiss on your cheek this time, jake said his farewells (reluctantly) and was out of your apartment by the time you were threatening to call coyote to haul him away.
the one where your foul mood is brought by the fact that you were jealous of kate, and tyler won't seem to stop interrogating you until you burst out to admit it.
pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader
word count: 1.7k
rating: NC-17
content: fluff, friends to lovers au
warning/s: swearing, suggestive sexual themes; this fic isn’t that marinated yet for editing so there might be some mistakes here and there.
opening note. finally got to watch twisters and now all the suppressed glen powell love is being unleashed on tyler owens lol. as someone who sometimes like clichés, i really had fun writing this!
“What the hell is going on?”
It was Tyler who said that, suddenly appearing beside you while you got ready to take out the other dishes you prepared for the whole team. You were informed prior that they were going to arrive at your house today for an overnight stay, and as an always generous and willing host, you didn’t hesitate in granting them hearty meals and a warm place to rest in after what you could only assume was another episode of adrenaline-filled ‘tornado wrangling’.
“Huh?” You gave him a confused glance, busy heating up the Macaroni casserole.
“Come on, give me a little credit. From how long I’ve known you, I’m practically wired now to sense every mood change you make.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You have to be more convincing than that to sway me, ____.”
“Just go back to the table, Tyler. I got this.”
“Oh, it’s Tyler now, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, a gesture that he didn’t miss on seeing.
“Keep up the attitude and I’ll keep on pressing you to be honest with me,” he added. “The choice is yours.”
A sigh escaped you next.
It annoyed you how you were so predictable to this man, how he took note of your expressions and knew what each one of it meant; his confidence in claiming that when it came to him, he could always read you like an open book. It was one of the many things that Tyler Owens was good at—and one of the inevitable things to occur when you’ve already spent most of your life with someone and considered them to be your closest friend in the world.
As you finally faced him, you took a step back almost immediately at the realization that he was standing too close to you inside the kitchen. All of the other guys were still in the other room, busy chattering and discussing about the tornado they got to film earlier, oblivious with the fact that the both of you weren’t with them and were instead caught up in your own little bubble
“Seriously,” Tyler leaned a hand on the kitchen sink; he looked genuinely worried, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
“You haven’t been saying anything throughout dinner. That doesn’t appear like nothing to me.”
“I’m just tired.”
“That’s not it.”
“It really is.”
“You’re avoiding me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
He took a step towards you, revoking the precautionary step back you took seconds ago. “You can’t even look me in the eyes. Do you know that you only do that when you’re pissed at me?”
You could have laughed, you really could’ve, because he was right. You were pissed at him. It was taking every bit of your power not to lash out at him at this very moment. You wanted to scream at his face, you wanted to shove his chest, you wanted to ridicule him for repeatedly claiming that he has you memorized and demand that if that were truly the case, then why the hell couldn’t he notice that you were hopelessly in love with him?
Your gaze flickered from his features to the new girl at the table, Kate Carter as she was introduced. She was beautiful and from what you gathered from the rest of the team, brilliant and was as passionate as Tyler was in storm chasing. She ticked all the boxes in what you deemed as the ideal girl for your closest friend; she understood the fervor of the endeavor that you never could. It made you jealous and insecure.
But as you were a master in hiding your true emotions at this point, you kept the one under the hood pretty well—that was until you saw her and Tyler sharing a moment together, laughing in a hushed manner as they sat side by side in front of you at the dining table, their heads bent towards the other that displayed how close they’ve gotten in such a short amount of time.
It made you sick, causing you to excuse yourself to prepare the casserole and for Tyler to follow you here, depriving you of the peace of mind you were wishing to have in detaching yourself away from the scene.
“Do you like her?” you finally asked, this newfound sense of courage surprising yet you couldn’t care less at this point. You just wanted this conversation to be done and dealt with. To hell with it if this ended up sabotaging your two-decade long friendship with Tyler.
“Who? Kate?”
“Who else?”
“What the hell are you asking me this for?”
“You wanted to know what’s wrong, didn’t you? Here you have it then. I’m pissed at how obvious you like her.”
“Woah, woah, woah, wait a second now,” he raised his hands up in defense, flabbergasted and outraged, “I like Kate now?”
“Please, you mean to tell me you don’t? After whispering to her ear all night and laughing about God knows what?”
“You have the wrong idea, ____.”
“I have eyes, Ty, and common sense. It’s a no brainer—I get it, I truly do. She’s beautiful, she’s smart, and you two get along with each other so well. It’s a match made in heaven. You guys are meant to be together.”
The oven chimed and you mechanically wore your wittens, grabbing the tray inside and placing it on the counter.
“I don’t like her.”
“Good luck trying to convince anyone that.”
“____—” he abruptly grabbed your forearms just as you were swerving away from him, about to get the tray again and return to the table, “listen to me for fuck’s sake. I don’t like her.”
You found yourself finally looking at his eyes. They were intense… and sincere, like his life depended on making you believe that he truly didn’t.
“I don’t like her, damn it. Now, you’re pissing me off.”
Your hips touched the counter. Tyler led you back up against it without realizing that he did, his hands that were on your forearms dropping to the edge and keeping you caged. You couldn’t breathe; your heart was pounding so hard that you could feel them in your ears. You did a cautious glance to the dining area and was relieved when you saw that no one seemed to be witnessing what was happening at this second.
“Tyler, can you… give me space?”
He didn’t budge. “You’ve been acting like a damn kid because you were jealous?”
You tilted your chin up to stare at him at the accusation. Of course, he wasn’t wrong; it didn’t mean you liked hearing it out loud. “I wasn’t acting like a kid.”
“So, just jealous, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“Holy shit. It’s written all over your face now. That’s really why you’re pissed at me?”
“I was trying very hard to be civil, may I inform you.”
“Do you even know what we were laughing about?”
“I don’t want nor need to.” You huffed.
“She was making fun of me, calling me a pussy because I was a grown man who couldn’t tell his longtime friend that he wanted to take their friendship to the next level. And before you make another stupid assumption—I’m pertaining to you, ____.”
Heat rushed to your neck and to your face. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“I did, but you’re not making any sense. Is that supposed to be a goddamn confession? Are you—telling me you like me?”
“Yes.” He finally gave you a bit of space, crossing his arms and maintaining a safe distance between your bodies. That still didn’t help in making you breathe easier. “Apparently, Kate doesn’t only have a good eye for storms, but emotionally constipated men as well. She was able to guess that I liked you from the moment we got here.”
You let out a snort at that one. “She’s right about that.”
“I’m not proud of it. I’ve prolonged not telling you how I really feel long enough.”
“And what is it that you feel?” You were craving a clear confession, for him to admit something that you’ve been wishing to hear every single night once you were done being in denial of what you too felt for him.
“That I’d very much like to pursue a relationship with you. A romantic one.”
Your knees felt like jelly. You were grateful that you had the counter to remain leaning on. “God, Ty,” you exhaled, “I hate how easy I’m going to make this for you.”
You attempted not to smile, but Tyler could see right through you, causing him to do the same. “Even if you drag this out, you know I’ll still chase you until you’re mine, right?”
“Really?”
“Of course, darlin’. I have a lifetime to make it up to you for not having the balls to pursue you sooner.”
With a step towards you again, he closed the gap between your lips, sealing the promise he just made. It took a second before you loosened up and reciprocated, overwhelmed by the sensation of kissing your best friend when all these years, you for sure wasn’t doing any of that. You were glad that you had the chance to do it right now though, and from the way your arms settle around his neck to pull him for a deeper kiss, it seemed like you wouldn’t have a hard time adjusting to the new change.
“Excuse me, lovebirds.”
The both of you broke apart. It was Lily, unbothered and nonchalant, wearing a mitten to get the forgotten casserole.
You were about to open your mouth to explain, but she shook her head, snickering in an all knowing manner. “Hey, it’s about time. No need to say anything. We don’t judge,” she said before leaving the kitchen and marching to the dining area where much to your horror, the whole crew was watching.
Dexter turned to Dani. “Pay up.”
Dani grumbled and began rummaging through her pockets.
“Oh my God,” you whispered, twisting away from their view while Tyler laughed, signaling for them to stop howling and cheering at what commenced after years of also talking among themselves how you and Tyler were bound to end up together.
“Let’s continue to talk about this later?” Tyler asked you, amused that your confidence dropped and was replaced by shyness, an occurrence that was rather rare.
“Yeah, okay.”
“You okay?”
You flashed him a glare. He wasn’t hiding the fact that he was enjoying this. “Yep.”
He smirked, giving you one last kiss. “I’m sleeping in your room tonight, alright?” he said then, not giving you the opportunity to react as he dashed back to his seat.
You blinked multiple times, dazed.
That certainly wasn’t in your 2024 bingo card.
gentle reminder: this author is a sucker for validation so please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts about this! ♡
the one where your foul mood is brought by the fact that you were jealous of kate, and tyler won't seem to stop interrogating you until you burst out to admit it.
pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader
word count: 1.7k
rating: NC-17
content: fluff, friends to lovers au
warning/s: swearing, suggestive sexual themes; this fic isn’t that marinated yet for editing so there might be some mistakes here and there.
opening note. finally got to watch twisters and now all the suppressed glen powell love is being unleashed on tyler owens lol. as someone who sometimes like clichés, i really had fun writing this!
“What the hell is going on?”
It was Tyler who said that, suddenly appearing beside you while you got ready to take out the other dishes you prepared for the whole team. You were informed prior that they were going to arrive at your house today for an overnight stay, and as an always generous and willing host, you didn’t hesitate in granting them hearty meals and a warm place to rest in after what you could only assume was another episode of adrenaline-filled ‘tornado wrangling’.
“Huh?” You gave him a confused glance, busy heating up the Macaroni casserole.
“Come on, give me a little credit. From how long I’ve known you, I’m practically wired now to sense every mood change you make.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You have to be more convincing than that to sway me, ____.”
“Just go back to the table, Tyler. I got this.”
“Oh, it’s Tyler now, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, a gesture that he didn’t miss on seeing.
“Keep up the attitude and I’ll keep on pressing you to be honest with me,” he added. “The choice is yours.”
A sigh escaped you next.
It annoyed you how you were so predictable to this man, how he took note of your expressions and knew what each one of it meant; his confidence in claiming that when it came to him, he could always read you like an open book. It was one of the many things that Tyler Owens was good at—and one of the inevitable things to occur when you’ve already spent most of your life with someone and considered them to be your closest friend in the world.
As you finally faced him, you took a step back almost immediately at the realization that he was standing too close to you inside the kitchen. All of the other guys were still in the other room, busy chattering and discussing about the tornado they got to film earlier, oblivious with the fact that the both of you weren’t with them and were instead caught up in your own little bubble
“Seriously,” Tyler leaned a hand on the kitchen sink; he looked genuinely worried, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
“You haven’t been saying anything throughout dinner. That doesn’t appear like nothing to me.”
“I’m just tired.”
“That’s not it.”
“It really is.”
“You’re avoiding me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
He took a step towards you, revoking the precautionary step back you took seconds ago. “You can’t even look me in the eyes. Do you know that you only do that when you’re pissed at me?”
You could have laughed, you really could’ve, because he was right. You were pissed at him. It was taking every bit of your power not to lash out at him at this very moment. You wanted to scream at his face, you wanted to shove his chest, you wanted to ridicule him for repeatedly claiming that he has you memorized and demand that if that were truly the case, then why the hell couldn’t he notice that you were hopelessly in love with him?
Your gaze flickered from his features to the new girl at the table, Kate Carter as she was introduced. She was beautiful and from what you gathered from the rest of the team, brilliant and was as passionate as Tyler was in storm chasing. She ticked all the boxes in what you deemed as the ideal girl for your closest friend; she understood the fervor of the endeavor that you never could. It made you jealous and insecure.
But as you were a master in hiding your true emotions at this point, you kept the one under the hood pretty well—that was until you saw her and Tyler sharing a moment together, laughing in a hushed manner as they sat side by side in front of you at the dining table, their heads bent towards the other that displayed how close they’ve gotten in such a short amount of time.
It made you sick, causing you to excuse yourself to prepare the casserole and for Tyler to follow you here, depriving you of the peace of mind you were wishing to have in detaching yourself away from the scene.
“Do you like her?” you finally asked, this newfound sense of courage surprising yet you couldn’t care less at this point. You just wanted this conversation to be done and dealt with. To hell with it if this ended up sabotaging your two-decade long friendship with Tyler.
“Who? Kate?”
“Who else?”
“What the hell are you asking me this for?”
“You wanted to know what’s wrong, didn’t you? Here you have it then. I’m pissed at how obvious you like her.”
“Woah, woah, woah, wait a second now,” he raised his hands up in defense, flabbergasted and outraged, “I like Kate now?”
“Please, you mean to tell me you don’t? After whispering to her ear all night and laughing about God knows what?”
“You have the wrong idea, ____.”
“I have eyes, Ty, and common sense. It’s a no brainer—I get it, I truly do. She’s beautiful, she’s smart, and you two get along with each other so well. It’s a match made in heaven. You guys are meant to be together.”
The oven chimed and you mechanically wore your wittens, grabbing the tray inside and placing it on the counter.
“I don’t like her.”
“Good luck trying to convince anyone that.”
“____—” he abruptly grabbed your forearms just as you were swerving away from him, about to get the tray again and return to the table, “listen to me for fuck’s sake. I don’t like her.”
You found yourself finally looking at his eyes. They were intense… and sincere, like his life depended on making you believe that he truly didn’t.
“I don’t like her, damn it. Now, you’re pissing me off.”
Your hips touched the counter. Tyler led you back up against it without realizing that he did, his hands that were on your forearms dropping to the edge and keeping you caged. You couldn’t breathe; your heart was pounding so hard that you could feel them in your ears. You did a cautious glance to the dining area and was relieved when you saw that no one seemed to be witnessing what was happening at this second.
“Tyler, can you… give me space?”
He didn’t budge. “You’ve been acting like a damn kid because you were jealous?”
You tilted your chin up to stare at him at the accusation. Of course, he wasn’t wrong; it didn’t mean you liked hearing it out loud. “I wasn’t acting like a kid.”
“So, just jealous, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“Holy shit. It’s written all over your face now. That’s really why you’re pissed at me?”
“I was trying very hard to be civil, may I inform you.”
“Do you even know what we were laughing about?”
“I don’t want nor need to.” You huffed.
“She was making fun of me, calling me a pussy because I was a grown man who couldn’t tell his longtime friend that he wanted to take their friendship to the next level. And before you make another stupid assumption—I’m pertaining to you, ____.”
Heat rushed to your neck and to your face. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“I did, but you’re not making any sense. Is that supposed to be a goddamn confession? Are you—telling me you like me?”
“Yes.” He finally gave you a bit of space, crossing his arms and maintaining a safe distance between your bodies. That still didn’t help in making you breathe easier. “Apparently, Kate doesn’t only have a good eye for storms, but emotionally constipated men as well. She was able to guess that I liked you from the moment we got here.”
You let out a snort at that one. “She’s right about that.”
“I’m not proud of it. I’ve prolonged not telling you how I really feel long enough.”
“And what is it that you feel?” You were craving a clear confession, for him to admit something that you’ve been wishing to hear every single night once you were done being in denial of what you too felt for him.
“That I’d very much like to pursue a relationship with you. A romantic one.”
Your knees felt like jelly. You were grateful that you had the counter to remain leaning on. “God, Ty,” you exhaled, “I hate how easy I’m going to make this for you.”
You attempted not to smile, but Tyler could see right through you, causing him to do the same. “Even if you drag this out, you know I’ll still chase you until you’re mine, right?”
“Really?”
“Of course, darlin’. I have a lifetime to make it up to you for not having the balls to pursue you sooner.”
With a step towards you again, he closed the gap between your lips, sealing the promise he just made. It took a second before you loosened up and reciprocated, overwhelmed by the sensation of kissing your best friend when all these years, you for sure wasn’t doing any of that. You were glad that you had the chance to do it right now though, and from the way your arms settle around his neck to pull him for a deeper kiss, it seemed like you wouldn’t have a hard time adjusting to the new change.
“Excuse me, lovebirds.”
The both of you broke apart. It was Lily, unbothered and nonchalant, wearing a mitten to get the forgotten casserole.
You were about to open your mouth to explain, but she shook her head, snickering in an all knowing manner. “Hey, it’s about time. No need to say anything. We don’t judge,” she said before leaving the kitchen and marching to the dining area where much to your horror, the whole crew was watching.
Dexter turned to Dani. “Pay up.”
Dani grumbled and began rummaging through her pockets.
“Oh my God,” you whispered, twisting away from their view while Tyler laughed, signaling for them to stop howling and cheering at what commenced after years of also talking among themselves how you and Tyler were bound to end up together.
“Let’s continue to talk about this later?” Tyler asked you, amused that your confidence dropped and was replaced by shyness, an occurrence that was rather rare.
“Yeah, okay.”
“You okay?”
You flashed him a glare. He wasn’t hiding the fact that he was enjoying this. “Yep.”
He smirked, giving you one last kiss. “I’m sleeping in your room tonight, alright?” he said then, not giving you the opportunity to react as he dashed back to his seat.
You blinked multiple times, dazed.
That certainly wasn’t in your 2024 bingo card.
gentle reminder: this author is a sucker for validation so please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts about this! ♡
no words can possibly express how much I love this; I legit feel like these pics!!! 💓💓💓 You wrote Tyler so well too, I'm just!!! 💞 (and I love the ending with how the crew was looking and talking about them. 😂💛)
the one where your foul mood is brought by the fact that you were jealous of kate, and tyler won't seem to stop interrogating you until you burst out to admit it.
pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader
word count: 1.7k
rating: NC-17
content: fluff, friends to lovers au
warning/s: swearing, suggestive sexual themes; this fic isn’t that marinated yet for editing so there might be some mistakes here and there.
opening note. finally got to watch twisters and now all the suppressed glen powell love is being unleashed on tyler owens lol. as someone who sometimes like clichés, i really had fun writing this!
“What the hell is going on?”
It was Tyler who said that, suddenly appearing beside you while you got ready to take out the other dishes you prepared for the whole team. You were informed prior that they were going to arrive at your house today for an overnight stay, and as an always generous and willing host, you didn’t hesitate in granting them hearty meals and a warm place to rest in after what you could only assume was another episode of adrenaline-filled ‘tornado wrangling’.
“Huh?” You gave him a confused glance, busy heating up the Macaroni casserole.
“Come on, give me a little credit. From how long I’ve known you, I’m practically wired now to sense every mood change you make.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You have to be more convincing than that to sway me, ____.”
“Just go back to the table, Tyler. I got this.”
“Oh, it’s Tyler now, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, a gesture that he didn’t miss on seeing.
“Keep up the attitude and I’ll keep on pressing you to be honest with me,” he added. “The choice is yours.”
A sigh escaped you next.
It annoyed you how you were so predictable to this man, how he took note of your expressions and knew what each one of it meant; his confidence in claiming that when it came to him, he could always read you like an open book. It was one of the many things that Tyler Owens was good at—and one of the inevitable things to occur when you’ve already spent most of your life with someone and considered them to be your closest friend in the world.
As you finally faced him, you took a step back almost immediately at the realization that he was standing too close to you inside the kitchen. All of the other guys were still in the other room, busy chattering and discussing about the tornado they got to film earlier, oblivious with the fact that the both of you weren’t with them and were instead caught up in your own little bubble
“Seriously,” Tyler leaned a hand on the kitchen sink; he looked genuinely worried, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
“You haven’t been saying anything throughout dinner. That doesn’t appear like nothing to me.”
“I’m just tired.”
“That’s not it.”
“It really is.”
“You’re avoiding me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
He took a step towards you, revoking the precautionary step back you took seconds ago. “You can’t even look me in the eyes. Do you know that you only do that when you’re pissed at me?”
You could have laughed, you really could’ve, because he was right. You were pissed at him. It was taking every bit of your power not to lash out at him at this very moment. You wanted to scream at his face, you wanted to shove his chest, you wanted to ridicule him for repeatedly claiming that he has you memorized and demand that if that were truly the case, then why the hell couldn’t he notice that you were hopelessly in love with him?
Your gaze flickered from his features to the new girl at the table, Kate Carter as she was introduced. She was beautiful and from what you gathered from the rest of the team, brilliant and was as passionate as Tyler was in storm chasing. She ticked all the boxes in what you deemed as the ideal girl for your closest friend; she understood the fervor of the endeavor that you never could. It made you jealous and insecure.
But as you were a master in hiding your true emotions at this point, you kept the one under the hood pretty well—that was until you saw her and Tyler sharing a moment together, laughing in a hushed manner as they sat side by side in front of you at the dining table, their heads bent towards the other that displayed how close they’ve gotten in such a short amount of time.
It made you sick, causing you to excuse yourself to prepare the casserole and for Tyler to follow you here, depriving you of the peace of mind you were wishing to have in detaching yourself away from the scene.
“Do you like her?” you finally asked, this newfound sense of courage surprising yet you couldn’t care less at this point. You just wanted this conversation to be done and dealt with. To hell with it if this ended up sabotaging your two-decade long friendship with Tyler.
“Who? Kate?”
“Who else?”
“What the hell are you asking me this for?”
“You wanted to know what’s wrong, didn’t you? Here you have it then. I’m pissed at how obvious you like her.”
“Woah, woah, woah, wait a second now,” he raised his hands up in defense, flabbergasted and outraged, “I like Kate now?”
“Please, you mean to tell me you don’t? After whispering to her ear all night and laughing about God knows what?”
“You have the wrong idea, ____.”
“I have eyes, Ty, and common sense. It’s a no brainer—I get it, I truly do. She’s beautiful, she’s smart, and you two get along with each other so well. It’s a match made in heaven. You guys are meant to be together.”
The oven chimed and you mechanically wore your wittens, grabbing the tray inside and placing it on the counter.
“I don’t like her.”
“Good luck trying to convince anyone that.”
“____—” he abruptly grabbed your forearms just as you were swerving away from him, about to get the tray again and return to the table, “listen to me for fuck’s sake. I don’t like her.”
You found yourself finally looking at his eyes. They were intense… and sincere, like his life depended on making you believe that he truly didn’t.
“I don’t like her, damn it. Now, you’re pissing me off.”
Your hips touched the counter. Tyler led you back up against it without realizing that he did, his hands that were on your forearms dropping to the edge and keeping you caged. You couldn’t breathe; your heart was pounding so hard that you could feel them in your ears. You did a cautious glance to the dining area and was relieved when you saw that no one seemed to be witnessing what was happening at this second.
“Tyler, can you… give me space?”
He didn’t budge. “You’ve been acting like a damn kid because you were jealous?”
You tilted your chin up to stare at him at the accusation. Of course, he wasn’t wrong; it didn’t mean you liked hearing it out loud. “I wasn’t acting like a kid.”
“So, just jealous, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“Holy shit. It’s written all over your face now. That’s really why you’re pissed at me?”
“I was trying very hard to be civil, may I inform you.”
“Do you even know what we were laughing about?”
“I don’t want nor need to.” You huffed.
“She was making fun of me, calling me a pussy because I was a grown man who couldn’t tell his longtime friend that he wanted to take their friendship to the next level. And before you make another stupid assumption—I’m pertaining to you, ____.”
Heat rushed to your neck and to your face. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“I did, but you’re not making any sense. Is that supposed to be a goddamn confession? Are you—telling me you like me?”
“Yes.” He finally gave you a bit of space, crossing his arms and maintaining a safe distance between your bodies. That still didn’t help in making you breathe easier. “Apparently, Kate doesn’t only have a good eye for storms, but emotionally constipated men as well. She was able to guess that I liked you from the moment we got here.”
You let out a snort at that one. “She’s right about that.”
“I’m not proud of it. I’ve prolonged not telling you how I really feel long enough.”
“And what is it that you feel, Ty?” You were craving a clear confession, for him to admit something that you’ve been wishing to hear every single night once you were done being in denial of what you too felt for him.
“That I’d very much like to pursue a relationship with you. A romantic one.”
Your knees felt like jelly. You were grateful that you had the counter to remain leaning on. “God, Ty,” you exhaled, “I hate how easy I’m going to make this for you.”
You attempted not to smile, but Tyler could see right through you, causing him to do the same. “Even if you drag this out, you know I’ll still chase you until you’re mine, right?”
“Really?”
“Of course, darlin’. I have a lifetime to make it up to you for not having the balls to pursue you sooner.”
With a step towards you again, he closed the gap between your lips, sealing the promise he just made. It took a second before you loosened up and reciprocated, overwhelmed by the sensation of kissing your best friend when all these years, you for sure wasn’t doing any of that. You were glad that you had the chance to do it right now though, and from the way your arms settle around his neck to pull him for a deeper kiss, it seemed like you wouldn’t have a hard time adjusting to the new change.
“Excuse me, lovebirds.”
The both of you broke apart. It was Lily, unbothered and nonchalant, wearing a mitten to get the forgotten casserole.
You were about to open your mouth to explain, but she shook her head, snickering in an all knowing manner. “Hey, it’s about time. No need to say anything. We don’t judge,” she said before leaving the kitchen and marching to the dining area where much to your horror, the whole crew was watching.
Dexter turned to Dani. “Pay up.”
Dani grumbled and began rummaging through her pockets.
“Oh my God,” you whispered, twisting away from their view while Tyler laughed, signaling for them to stop howling and cheering at what commenced after years of also talking among themselves how you and Tyler were bound to end up together.
“Let’s continue to talk about this later?” Tyler asked you, amused that your confidence dropped and was replaced by shyness, an occurrence that was rather rare.
“Yeah, okay.”
“You okay?”
You flashed him a glare. He wasn’t hiding the fact that he was enjoying this. “Yep.”
He smirked, giving you one last kiss. “I’m sleeping in your room tonight, alright?” he said then, not giving you the opportunity to react as he dashed back to his seat.
You blinked multiple times, dazed.
That certainly wasn’t in your 2024 bingo card.
thank you for reading! as i’m a sucker for validation, feedback is highly appreciated hehe ♡
the one where your foul mood is brought by the fact that you were jealous of kate, and tyler won't seem to stop interrogating you until you burst out and admit exactly that.
pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader
word count: 1.7k
rating: NC-17
content: fluff, friends to lovers au
warning/s: swearing, suggestive sexual themes; this fic isn’t that marinated yet for editing so there might be some mistakes here and there.
opening note. finally got to watch twisters and now all the suppressed glen powell love is being unleashed on tyler owens lol. as someone who sometimes like clichés, i really had fun writing this!
“What the hell is going on?”
It was Tyler who said that, suddenly appearing beside you while you got ready to take out the other dishes you prepared for the whole team. You were informed prior that they were going to arrive at your house today for an overnight stay, and as an always generous and willing host, you didn’t hesitate in granting them hearty meals and a warm place to rest in after what you could only assume was another episode of adrenaline-filled ‘tornado wrangling’.
“Huh?” You gave him a confused glance, busy heating up the Macaroni casserole.
“Come on, give me a little credit. From how long I’ve known you, I’m practically wired now to sense every mood change you make.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You have to be more convincing than that to sway me, ____.”
“Just go back to the table, Tyler. I got this.”
“Oh, it’s Tyler now, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, a gesture that he didn’t miss on seeing.
“Keep up the attitude and I’ll keep on pressing you to be honest with me,” he added. “The choice is yours.”
A sigh escaped you next.
It annoyed you how you were so predictable to this man, how he took note of your expressions and knew what each one of it meant; his confidence in claiming that when it came to him, he could always read you like an open book. It was one of the many things that Tyler Owens was good at—and one of the inevitable things to occur when you’ve already spent most of your life with someone and considered them to be your closest friend in the world.
As you finally faced him, you took a step back almost immediately at the realization that he was standing too close to you inside the kitchen. All of the other guys were still in the other room, busy chattering and discussing about the tornado they got to film earlier, oblivious with the fact that the both of you weren’t with them and were instead caught up in your own little bubble
“Seriously,” Tyler leaned a hand on the kitchen sink; he looked genuinely worried, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
“You haven’t been saying anything throughout dinner. That doesn’t appear like nothing to me.”
“I’m just tired.”
“That’s not it.”
“It really is.”
“You’re avoiding me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
He took a step towards you, revoking the precautionary step back you took seconds ago. “You can’t even look me in the eyes. Do you know that you only do that when you’re pissed at me?”
You could have laughed, you really could’ve, because he was right. You were pissed at him. It was taking every bit of your power not to lash out at him at this very moment. You wanted to scream at his face, you wanted to shove his chest, you wanted to ridicule him for repeatedly claiming that he has you memorized and demand that if that were truly the case, then why the hell couldn’t he notice that you were hopelessly in love with him?
Your gaze flickered from his features to the new girl at the table, Kate Carter as she was introduced. She was beautiful and from what you gathered from the rest of the team, brilliant and was as passionate as Tyler was in storm chasing. She ticked all the boxes in what you deemed as the ideal girl for your closest friend; she understood the fervor of the endeavor that you never could. It made you jealous and insecure.
But as you were a master in hiding your true emotions at this point, you kept the one under the hood pretty well—that was until you saw her and Tyler sharing a moment together, laughing in a hushed manner as they sat side by side in front of you at the dining table, their heads bent towards the other that displayed how close they’ve gotten in such a short amount of time.
It made you sick, causing you to excuse yourself to prepare the casserole and for Tyler to follow you here, depriving you of the peace of mind you were wishing to have in detaching yourself away from the scene.
“Do you like her?” you finally asked, this newfound sense of courage surprising yet you couldn’t care less at this point. You just wanted this conversation to be done and dealt with. To hell with it if this ended up sabotaging your two-decade long friendship with Tyler.
“Who? Kate?”
“Who else?”
“What the hell are you asking me this for?”
“You wanted to know what’s wrong, didn’t you? Here you have it then. I’m pissed at how obvious you like her.”
“Woah, woah, woah, wait a second now,” he raised his hands up in defense, flabbergasted and outraged, “I like Kate now?”
“Please, you mean to tell me you don’t? After whispering to her ear all night and laughing about God knows what?”
“You have the wrong idea, ____.”
“I have eyes, Ty, and common sense. It’s a no brainer—I get it, I truly do. She’s beautiful, she’s smart, and you two get along with each other so well. It’s a match made in heaven. You guys are meant to be together.”
The oven chimed and you mechanically wore your wittens, grabbing the tray inside and placing it on the counter.
“I don’t like her.”
“Good luck trying to convince anyone that.”
“____—” he abruptly grabbed your forearms just as you were swerving away from him, about to get the tray again and return to the table, “listen to me for fuck’s sake. I don’t like her.”
You found yourself finally looking at his eyes. They were intense… and sincere, like his life depended on making you believe that he truly didn’t.
“I don’t like her, damn it. Now, you’re pissing me off.”
Your hips touched the counter. Tyler led you back up against it without realizing that he did, his hands that were on your forearms dropping to the edge and keeping you caged. You couldn’t breathe; your heart was pounding so hard that you could feel them in your ears. You did a cautious glance to the dining area and was relieved when you saw that no one seemed to be witnessing what was happening at this second.
“Tyler, can you… give me space?”
He didn’t budge. “You’ve been acting like a damn kid because you were jealous?”
You tilted your chin up to stare at him at the accusation. Of course, he wasn’t wrong; it didn’t mean you liked hearing it out loud. “I wasn’t acting like a kid.”
“So, just jealous, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“Holy shit. It’s written all over your face now. That’s really why you’re pissed at me?”
“I was trying very hard to be civil, may I inform you.”
“Do you even know what we were laughing about?”
“I don’t want nor need to.” You huffed.
“She was making fun of me, calling me a pussy because I was a grown man who couldn’t tell his longtime friend that he wanted to take their friendship to the next level. And before you make another stupid assumption—I’m pertaining to you, ____.”
Heat rushed to your neck and to your face. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“I did, but you’re not making any sense. Is that supposed to be a goddamn confession? Are you—telling me you like me?”
“Yes.” He finally gave you a bit of space, crossing his arms and maintaining a safe distance between your bodies. That still didn’t help in making you breathe easier. “Apparently, Kate doesn’t only have a good eye for storms, but emotionally constipated men as well. She was able to guess that I liked you from the moment we got here.”
You let out a snort at that one. “She’s right about that.”
“I’m not proud of it. I’ve prolonged not telling you how I really feel long enough.”
“And what is it that you feel, Ty?” You were craving a clear confession, for him to admit something that you’ve been wishing to hear every single night once you were done being in denial of what you too felt for him.
“That I’d very much like to pursue a relationship with you. A romantic one.”
Your knees felt like jelly. You were grateful that you had the counter to remain leaning on. “God, Ty,” you exhaled, “I hate how easy I’m going to make this for you.”
You attempted not to smile, but Tyler could see right through you, causing him to do the same. “Even if you drag this out, you know I’ll still chase you until you’re mine, right?”
“Really?”
“Of course, darlin’. I have a lifetime to make it up to you for not having the balls to pursue you sooner.”
With a step towards you again, he closed the gap between your lips, sealing the promise he just made. It took a second before you loosened up and reciprocated, overwhelmed by the sensation of kissing your best friend when all these years, you for sure wasn’t doing any of that. You were glad that you had the chance to do it right now though, and from the way your arms settle around his neck to pull him for a deeper kiss, it seemed like you wouldn’t have a hard time adjusting to the new change.
“Excuse me, lovebirds.”
The both of you broke apart. It was Lily, unbothered and nonchalant, wearing a mitten to get the forgotten casserole.
You were about to open your mouth to explain, but she shook her head, snickering in an all knowing manner. “Hey, it’s about time. No need to say anything. We don’t judge,” she said before leaving the kitchen and marching to the dining area where much to your horror, the whole crew was watching.
Dexter turned to Dani. “Pay up.”
Dani grumbled and began rummaging through her pockets.
“Oh my God,” you whispered, twisting away from their view while Tyler laughed, signaling for them to stop howling and cheering at what commenced after years of also talking among themselves how you and Tyler were bound to end up together.
“Let’s continue to talk about this later?” Tyler asked you, amused that your confidence dropped and was replaced by shyness, an occurrence that was rather rare.
“Yeah, okay.”
“You okay?”
You flashed him a glare. He wasn’t hiding the fact that he was enjoying this. “Yep.”
He smirked, giving you one last kiss. “I’m sleeping in your room tonight, alright?” he said then, not giving you the opportunity to react as he dashed back to his seat.
You blinked multiple times, dazed.
That certainly wasn’t in your 2024 bingo card.
thank you for reading! as i’m a sucker for validation, feedback is highly appreciated hehe ♡
the one where your foul mood is brought by the fact that you were jealous of kate, and tyler won't seem to stop interrogating you until you burst out to admit it.
pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader
word count: 1.7k
rating: NC-17
content: fluff, friends to lovers au
warning/s: swearing, suggestive sexual themes; this fic isn’t that marinated yet for editing so there might be some mistakes here and there.
opening note. finally got to watch twisters and now all the suppressed glen powell love is being unleashed on tyler owens lol. as someone who sometimes like clichés, i really had fun writing this!
“What the hell is going on?”
It was Tyler who said that, suddenly appearing beside you while you got ready to take out the other dishes you prepared for the whole team. You were informed prior that they were going to arrive at your house today for an overnight stay, and as an always generous and willing host, you didn’t hesitate in granting them hearty meals and a warm place to rest in after what you could only assume was another episode of adrenaline-filled ‘tornado wrangling’.
“Huh?” You gave him a confused glance, busy heating up the Macaroni casserole.
“Come on, give me a little credit. From how long I’ve known you, I’m practically wired now to sense every mood change you make.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You have to be more convincing than that to sway me, ____.”
“Just go back to the table, Tyler. I got this.”
“Oh, it’s Tyler now, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, a gesture that he didn’t miss on seeing.
“Keep up the attitude and I’ll keep on pressing you to be honest with me,” he added. “The choice is yours.”
A sigh escaped you next.
It annoyed you how you were so predictable to this man, how he took note of your expressions and knew what each one of it meant; his confidence in claiming that when it came to him, he could always read you like an open book. It was one of the many things that Tyler Owens was good at—and one of the inevitable things to occur when you’ve already spent most of your life with someone and considered them to be your closest friend in the world.
As you finally faced him, you took a step back almost immediately at the realization that he was standing too close to you inside the kitchen. All of the other guys were still in the other room, busy chattering and discussing about the tornado they got to film earlier, oblivious with the fact that the both of you weren’t with them and were instead caught up in your own little bubble
“Seriously,” Tyler leaned a hand on the kitchen sink; he looked genuinely worried, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
“You haven’t been saying anything throughout dinner. That doesn’t appear like nothing to me.”
“I’m just tired.”
“That’s not it.”
“It really is.”
“You’re avoiding me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
He took a step towards you, revoking the precautionary step back you took seconds ago. “You can’t even look me in the eyes. Do you know that you only do that when you’re pissed at me?”
You could have laughed, you really could’ve, because he was right. You were pissed at him. It was taking every bit of your power not to lash out at him at this very moment. You wanted to scream at his face, you wanted to shove his chest, you wanted to ridicule him for repeatedly claiming that he has you memorized and demand that if that were truly the case, then why the hell couldn’t he notice that you were hopelessly in love with him?
Your gaze flickered from his features to the new girl at the table, Kate Carter as she was introduced. She was beautiful and from what you gathered from the rest of the team, brilliant and was as passionate as Tyler was in storm chasing. She ticked all the boxes in what you deemed as the ideal girl for your closest friend; she understood the fervor of the endeavor that you never could. It made you jealous and insecure.
But as you were a master in hiding your true emotions at this point, you kept the one under the hood pretty well—that was until you saw her and Tyler sharing a moment together, laughing in a hushed manner as they sat side by side in front of you at the dining table, their heads bent towards the other that displayed how close they’ve gotten in such a short amount of time.
It made you sick, causing you to excuse yourself to prepare the casserole and for Tyler to follow you here, depriving you of the peace of mind you were wishing to have in detaching yourself away from the scene.
“Do you like her?” you finally asked, this newfound sense of courage surprising yet you couldn’t care less at this point. You just wanted this conversation to be done and dealt with. To hell with it if this ended up sabotaging your two-decade long friendship with Tyler.
“Who? Kate?”
“Who else?”
“What the hell are you asking me this for?”
“You wanted to know what’s wrong, didn’t you? Here you have it then. I’m pissed at how obvious you like her.”
“Woah, woah, woah, wait a second now,” he raised his hands up in defense, flabbergasted and outraged, “I like Kate now?”
“Please, you mean to tell me you don’t? After whispering to her ear all night and laughing about God knows what?”
“You have the wrong idea, ____.”
“I have eyes, Ty, and common sense. It’s a no brainer—I get it, I truly do. She’s beautiful, she’s smart, and you two get along with each other so well. It’s a match made in heaven. You guys are meant to be together.”
The oven chimed and you mechanically wore your wittens, grabbing the tray inside and placing it on the counter.
“I don’t like her.”
“Good luck trying to convince anyone that.”
“____—” he abruptly grabbed your forearms just as you were swerving away from him, about to get the tray again and return to the table, “listen to me for fuck’s sake. I don’t like her.”
You found yourself finally looking at his eyes. They were intense… and sincere, like his life depended on making you believe that he truly didn’t.
“I don’t like her, damn it. Now, you’re pissing me off.”
Your hips touched the counter. Tyler led you back up against it without realizing that he did, his hands that were on your forearms dropping to the edge and keeping you caged. You couldn’t breathe; your heart was pounding so hard that you could feel them in your ears. You did a cautious glance to the dining area and was relieved when you saw that no one seemed to be witnessing what was happening at this second.
“Tyler, can you… give me space?”
He didn’t budge. “You’ve been acting like a damn kid because you were jealous?”
You tilted your chin up to stare at him at the accusation. Of course, he wasn’t wrong; it didn’t mean you liked hearing it out loud. “I wasn’t acting like a kid.”
“So, just jealous, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“Holy shit. It’s written all over your face now. That’s really why you’re pissed at me?”
“I was trying very hard to be civil, may I inform you.”
“Do you even know what we were laughing about?”
“I don’t want nor need to.” You huffed.
“She was making fun of me, calling me a pussy because I was a grown man who couldn’t tell his longtime friend that he wanted to take their friendship to the next level. And before you make another stupid assumption—I’m pertaining to you, ____.”
Heat rushed to your neck and to your face. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“I did, but you’re not making any sense. Is that supposed to be a goddamn confession? Are you—telling me you like me?”
“Yes.” He finally gave you a bit of space, crossing his arms and maintaining a safe distance between your bodies. That still didn’t help in making you breathe easier. “Apparently, Kate doesn’t only have a good eye for storms, but emotionally constipated men as well. She was able to guess that I liked you from the moment we got here.”
You let out a snort at that one. “She’s right about that.”
“I’m not proud of it. I’ve prolonged not telling you how I really feel long enough.”
“And what is it that you feel?” You were craving a clear confession, for him to admit something that you’ve been wishing to hear every single night once you were done being in denial of what you too felt for him.
“That I’d very much like to pursue a relationship with you. A romantic one.”
Your knees felt like jelly. You were grateful that you had the counter to remain leaning on. “God, Ty,” you exhaled, “I hate how easy I’m going to make this for you.”
You attempted not to smile, but Tyler could see right through you, causing him to do the same. “Even if you drag this out, you know I’ll still chase you until you’re mine, right?”
“Really?”
“Of course, darlin’. I have a lifetime to make it up to you for not having the balls to pursue you sooner.”
With a step towards you again, he closed the gap between your lips, sealing the promise he just made. It took a second before you loosened up and reciprocated, overwhelmed by the sensation of kissing your best friend when all these years, you for sure wasn’t doing any of that. You were glad that you had the chance to do it right now though, and from the way your arms settle around his neck to pull him for a deeper kiss, it seemed like you wouldn’t have a hard time adjusting to the new change.
“Excuse me, lovebirds.”
The both of you broke apart. It was Lily, unbothered and nonchalant, wearing a mitten to get the forgotten casserole.
You were about to open your mouth to explain, but she shook her head, snickering in an all knowing manner. “Hey, it’s about time. No need to say anything. We don’t judge,” she said before leaving the kitchen and marching to the dining area where much to your horror, the whole crew was watching.
Dexter turned to Dani. “Pay up.”
Dani grumbled and began rummaging through her pockets.
“Oh my God,” you whispered, twisting away from their view while Tyler laughed, signaling for them to stop howling and cheering at what commenced after years of also talking among themselves how you and Tyler were bound to end up together.
“Let’s continue to talk about this later?” Tyler asked you, amused that your confidence dropped and was replaced by shyness, an occurrence that was rather rare.
“Yeah, okay.”
“You okay?”
You flashed him a glare. He wasn’t hiding the fact that he was enjoying this. “Yep.”
He smirked, giving you one last kiss. “I’m sleeping in your room tonight, alright?” he said then, not giving you the opportunity to react as he dashed back to his seat.
You blinked multiple times, dazed.
That certainly wasn’t in your 2024 bingo card.
gentle reminder: this author is a sucker for validation so please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts about this! ♡
— tasm!peter parker x mj!reader | the one where peter realizes that all peter parkers has an mj in their lives that they hold dearly in their hearts, and you, his good friend who happened to have the same initials, might be the person he’s meant to break down his walls for for the first time again after vowing to lock it up forever.
( 2.8k words ) nc-17; fluff; friends to lovers au; ft. professor!reader, professor!tasm!peter; this fic isn’t that marinated yet for editing so there might be some mistakes here and there.
opening note. i rewatched spider-man: no way home and came up with this idea while doing so lol. technically, i know tasm!peter is not supposed to remember mcu!peter but for the sake of this fic, let’s just pretend that he does okay hehehe. also, i know this is supposed to be a reader-insert fic, but again, for plot purposes, you will have a name with the mj initial !
Peter felt like the densest person alive when it clicked to him that Peter 1’s Michelle Jones-Watson and Peter 2’s Mary Jane Watson had a version of her own in his universe.
He knew that he should have realized it as soon as the two Peters mentioned them, but he was so caught up with being in an entirely new dimension and coming up with a plan that would save its people that he didn’t have the luxury to process it quicker than usual; he just allowed it to be heard by his ears and shooed away by his preoccupied mind, deeming the information as merely trivial.
However, the second he was left alone with his thoughts, just as he began formulating and working on the cure for Dr. Curt Conners, it hit him like a ton of bricks that if these Peters had a partner that had the same initials, then it wouldn’t be quite impossible for him to supposedly have an MJ of his own—and that you, whose full name was Mia Joesette Watson, seemed to have perfectly fit that specific criteria.
In Peter’s defense, since you preferred to be called ‘Jo’ and the entirety of your name was very different from the other MJs, he should be given some slack for not realizing it sooner. It’s not like there was some memo that said all Peters indeed had an MJ in their life and that this said MJ would have a significant impact in it.
Still though, a part of him reckoned that he should have known better due to how much of an important and dear person you were to him. After all, since vowing to himself that he would never allow anyone to know about his identity as Spider-Man after what happened to Gwen, you became the exception to that rule because of what Peter now assumed was the universe’s way of telling him that you were meant to know him other than just Peter Parker, your colleague and fellow adjunct professor at the university you both worked in.
So when he got transported back to his universe thanks to Peter 1’s wizard friend, the first thing he did was rush to the university grounds where he knew you would be, ignoring the pain he felt in his body from all the fight and getting the first clothes he could find in his apartment to wear over his Spider-Man suit so that he could disguise himself as an average guy.
He just knew he couldn’t wait to see you again. It was going to be literally torturous if he prolonged this any longer, his head only filled with thoughts of how much he wanted to see you and prove if the theory he had been thinking of was right.
Peter wished it was; he never said it out loud before, but it has been months since he has been in denial with himself that he was already gaining romantic feelings for you due to his fear of ever loving someone so much again.
And if this was the go signal he had been waiting for that told him it was safe to fall in love with you, then he was going to take it.
━━
Arriving at the faculty building, he marched to where your office was and heedlessly opened the door without warning, spotting you by your desk with a student sitting across you.
From the looks of it alone, this student—Rachel, as Peter remembered her—was having a consultation with you, her laptop opened for you and folders scattered on the table, a very clear indication that he shouldn’t have barged in like he just had right now unannounced.
Your eyes flashed to him in an instant, confusion and surprise etching on your features. “Mr. Parker,” you acknowledged, keeping the interaction as professional as it could since there were existing rumors of the both of you having a love affair (from what you gathered, the students were ‘shipping’ you together), “is there anything I can help you with?”
He swallowed hard, embarrassed as he was not expecting another person to be with you at this time. “Well, uh, yes. But it can wait. I can wait out here.” He pertained to the bench outside your office.
“Oh, it’s fine, Mr. Parker,” Rachel was the one who spoke; she appeared pleased and there was a certain glint in her eyes that Peter couldn’t quite decipher. “My consultation period with Ms. Watson is done. So, you can have her.” She closed her laptop that was on your desk and kept the rest of her things before standing up.
“No, no, if you still have something to discuss—”
Any protest done by Peter got ignored by Rachel as she thanked you for your time, this big teasing grin on her face, and bid her farewell to you and Peter, scurrying to the door then to give you two the privacy you needed.
“Rachel, remember to email me the revisions by tonight, alright?” You reminded her gently before she could completely leave.
“Will do!” she giddily replied, closing the door behind her.
Once she was far enough and out of hearing shot, Peter turned back to you and saw you gazing at him with your arms crossed against your chest, your stance clearly disapproving. He was well familiar what must be running in your mind right now; there has been a lot of times in the past wherein he has gotten hurt from crime fighting that he enlisted your help in taking care of his unreachable wounds, and during one of those instances that you saw how much he winced and was in pain, you were never shy in making your concern show.
“I’m sorry,” he quickly said, striding towards your desk while you remained there, “I forgot that it’s your consultation hours during this time.”
“Where the hell were you, Peter?” was what you asked him, no longer hiding your infuriation about the fact that he has been missing since yesterday. “You didn’t attend any of your lectures from what I’ve heard, and you haven’t been answering any of my calls.”
It took a few seconds before he spoke, and when he did, he knew that the excuse he blurted out wouldn’t be good enough for your ears. “I’ve been busy.”
“Busy? With what?” You walked around the desk to walk closer to where he was standing. “You were gone for almost two days, Pete. At first I thought you were doing your—” you paused, glancing at the door for a millisecond and keeping your voice hushed for your next sentence— “Spider-Man stuff, but I looked over the news and there weren’t reports of you from anywhere.”
“Well… that’s probably because I most likely didn’t do my Spider-Man stuff here,” he sheepishly said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I literally wasn’t here, Jo.”
“You were out of town?”
“No, I mean literally in this world.”
“In this world?” you repeated in an impatient and puzzled manner. “So, what are you saying? Did you gain the ability to fly yourself to space?”
“No, no, I mean here, Jo.” Peter gestured to your surroundings in complete astonishment; regardless of how many hours it has been since he knew of the fact, he was still amazed to know that it was true. “In this world is what I’m saying. God, I don’t even know where to begin—but string theory, multidimensional reality, matter displacement? It’s all real. There are universes out there that are like our own, universes that we have counterparts of and who live in the same places we live in right here. The one I somehow ended up in? It had its own Peter Parker.”
You blinked at him, shocked at what he disclosed but was still in the process of taking it all in. “What?”
“The multiverse—it exists. It fucking exists.”
“LIke… like in that movie called Everything Everywhere All at Once? There’s just multiple realities happening all at the same time?”
“Exactly!”
“And the universe you traveled to, there was a Peter Parker there that wasn’t you?”
He nodded in enthusiasm. “Yes. Though, it’s interesting, because we look nothing alike. It doesn’t matter, of course. It’s just that I was under the impression that all Peter Parkers are supposed to look the same, but I suppose that there can be exemptions considering that there must be zillions of worlds in the—”
“Wait, wait, wait…” You cut him off and he immediately shut up. “So, let me get this clear, you were gone for almost two days because you were in another universe?”
“It sounds crazy, I know,” he said, “I mean, now that I’m back, I’m having a hard time grasping it again. But yes, basically, that is the reason for my absence.”
“How did you even travel there?”
“No idea. Just poofed there without warning.”
You continued staring at him, thankfully not because you seemed like you had your suspicions that he was only bluffing or was completely losing it. Peter was positive that you were going to believe him; it was dubious of you not to, given the fact that you were already aware of his powers as Spider-Man and the superhumans that posed a threat to your city from time to time. Surely, the concept of the multiverse couldn’t be the one thing you couldn’t comprehend.
“Fascinating,” you finally uttered out loud, looking genuinely impressed. “If they have their own Peter Parker there, does he happen to be Spider-Man as well?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “There’s two of them actually—Peter 2 is from another world too, I’ll explain later—and he’s the oldest among us three. Peter 1, the youngest, is the true Peter in that dimension, while me… I’m kinda like the middle child in the whole dynamic.”
“There were three Peter Parkers in the world you transported in?”
“Yep.”
“Sounds like a handful.” You had the nerve to tease despite being stunned by the information. “I’m assuming there’s a Jo Watson in that universe then, huh?”
Peter smiled. He just remembered what he came rushing here for. There was a part of him that was still nervous about what he wanted to do now because of his newfound knowledge, afraid that maybe his case was different when it came to having an MJ in his life—yet most of him felt optimistic that this was the right path to go, and he hasn’t felt this much optimism in a while for him to ignore it.
“It does, actually.”
You raised your eyebrows. “Really?”
“Uh-huh. She looks nothing like you and she goes by MJ but I’m pretty sure that you and her are supposed to be the same.” He chuckled and so did you.
“What makes you so certain?”
“For one, she’s an important person in Peter Parker’s life, and you’re important to me too, Jo,” Peter said sincerely, his eyes practically the ones that were speaking to you that he caught the movement in which you held your breath in surprise a bit because of it. “I… to be frank, I should have realized it sooner. You’ve always been so much more than just a person I wanted to protect and care for. I’ve always been drawn to you… it’s perhaps the reason why I climbed in the wrong window that night despite memorizing this whole building.”
A snort escaped you at the memory he had you abruptly revisiting. What he was referring to was the night when you discovered he was indeed the man behind Spider-Man, all because of Peter’s mistake of climbing into your office for a supposed temporary refuge which was coincidentally placed a floor above his. He wasn’t sure what made him commit such a rookie mistake, although like he just said, he now thought it was the universe’s way of bringing him closer to you.
“Peter…” You began but he held your arms gently to stop you from carrying on with that sentence.
“You don’t have to give me an answer yet,” he said. “I just want you to know that I like you, Jo. A lot. And I’ve been trying hard not to for the past few months because of fear that I’ll just get fucked by life all over again if I allow myself to let another person in my life like I did before. Being in that other world though… seeing how those two Peters had MJs of their own—it made me hope that maybe it could work for the both of us too. Not just as friends… maybe as something more.”
You blinked at him, the implication of his words dawning onto you. To claim that you anticipate this confession would be a lie; regardless, it didn’t erase the fact that it made the butterflies in your stomach turn into a damn zoo. “Pete, I… wow, um, I’m speechless.”
“I’m sorry if I’m pouring this all out on you in one go.”
“No, don’t apologize.” You found yourself smiling, and that gesture alone made his heart want to burst in happiness. “I just mean that… well, I don’t want to be stereotypical—uh, do the other MJs happen to have romantic interest in the other Peter Parkers too?”
The both of you were beaming now. He was positive then that you were his already.
“Yeah. They’re head over heels over their Peters as a matter of fact,” Peter said.
“Oh, is that so?”
“Totally. I heard one of them even made the first move of kissing Peter.”
“Very admirable, I must say.” You were laughing again, and he couldn’t help following suit.
“Right?” He stepped closer and brought both of his hands on your cheeks. “However, as much as I would be honored for you to do that as well, I think I’ll save you the effort and do it myself.”
Before you could react, Peter had his lips already on yours, kissing you with a passion that he didn’t know he had until he was here and making it apparent to you. He loved how you melted into him the moment his mouth touched yours, how your hands traveled from staying still on both of your sides to clinging onto his coat to pull him closer to you, deepening the kiss and showing how much you needed this to happen as well, even though like him, you were only aware of that fact once this was really happening.
“Goddamn,” you cursed as you felt your bottom hit the desk; Peter had successfully led you to perch on it while he stood between your thighs, his body dangerously pressing against yours, “I never knew you had game, Pete.” You breathed out, half-teasing and half-impressed.
Peter smirked. “I’m hurt.”
“What can I do to make it up to you?” Your tone was flirtatious and he was feeling rather hot because of it.
“Lots of things, Jo. Though there are a few things at the top of my list.”
“Yeah?” You moaned as he nipped on your throat and squeezed your hips. “Like what?”
He was about to reply with the naughtiest thing he will ever utter in your presence but then loud consecutive knocks were heard from the office door, causing you two to halt at once.
Another knock came and Peter recoiled from you instantly, dashing to the nearby bookshelf to start pretending like he was interested in the books displayed there to erase the possible suspicion of what just commenced. You, on the other hand, briskly smoothened your hair, blouse, and asked the person knocking to come in, revealing it to be Rachel who appeared bashful to be back here again.
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Watson, but I seem to have forgotten my laptop charger.” She gestured to the pouch right beside you on the table, something that you recognized to be the one that contained what she returned for.
You grabbed it and outstretched the small bag towards her direction, an invitation for her to come get it herself, and she didn’t waste time darting forward, catching hold of it and mumbling her sorrys again and again, apologizing for interrupting your ‘meeting’ with Professor Parker.
“It’s fine,” you repeatedly told her too, waving your hands in assurance that it was all good and offering her a final smile before she exited the office for the second time this day, yelling a one last sorry until you heard her footsteps fade out.
As soon as that was dealt with, you and Peter simultaneously let out a huge exhale, causing your gazes to meet. By far, making out in the office was the most risqué and compromising position you permitted yourself to be in, considering that you and him were still in the university premises. Nonetheless, you ended up bursting out laughing with Peter at the thought of being discovered on the very first day you just admitted your feelings to each other, happy hormones spreading everywhere in your systems.
With a bite of his lip to prevent a bigger grin to be seen on his mouth, he lifted a hand and shot a synthetic web to your torso and abruptly hauled you towards him so that you’d fall in his arms. You gasped in absolute surprise, a complaint bubbling in your throat, yet he couldn’t care less as he carried on with kissing you again, picking up from where the both of you were left interrupted earlier.
thank you for reading! as i’m a sucker for validation, feedback is highly appreciated hehe ♡
— sirius black x fem!reader | the one where the thought of someone liking you romantically has never crossed your mind, much less being liked by your own crush, sirius black, who proves to you that all your doubts are nonsense.
( 3k words ) pg-15; fluff; ft. gryffindor!reader | mentions of being insecure, low self-esteem.
›› part one.
opening note. it took a whole year for me to finish writing this part two lmao, but for the readers who got to read part one way back, i hope y’all like this!
Being seen with Sirius—and frequently, might you add—indeed became the talk of the town for the first few days.
As soon as the news spreaded, Iris and Martha, your close friends, interrogated you endlessly inside your shared room at the dormitory, asking a bunch of questions that ranged from how did Sirius confess and what did you feel for the aforementioned guy.
They labeled themselves as ridiculous and as oblivious as you were when they realized that all the gestures that Sirius has been doing in all the times they accused him of liking Iris were actually directed to you. They apologized, for not seeing it themselves and for not thinking of you as the person Sirius liked, and told you that they were going to be happy and supportive of you as long as they saw that you were happy too and that Sirius treated you well.
When your Hogsmeade date came, you spent the whole day just getting to know Sirius. Turns out, he was more well-mannered than you thought. He was a gentleman; he opened doors for you, offered to pay for everything, was the one who ordered your meal, stood up whenever you wanted to follow up something from the counter, and carried your bag when you bought some sweets from Honeydukes.
But what you liked most about him now was how he seemed genuinely interested in you and whatever that happened in your life. He made it apparent that he really was keen on discovering more about who you really were, from your hobbies, to your favorite things, and where you grew up.
“My parents… I don’t know if you’ve heard it from somewhere,” you began as you walked with him back to the path that led back to the Hogwarts castle, “but they’re, uh, Muggles. So, that means—”
“You’re Muggleborn,” Sirius supplied for you, appearing not even the slightest bit bothered by the fact. “And you don’t have any siblings, do you?”
You answered him, quite confused that he didn’t dwell too much on your revelation, but chose to drop it for now. “None.”
“Ah, so that makes you the only witch in your family.”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “uh, does that sound okay?”
He glanced at you with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t know. You’re a Pureblood, and you come from an excellent line of wizards.”
“You have a point,” he said, still nonchalant as ever, “but I’m… well, you can say I’m a bit different from them. I mean, to start it off, I’m a Gryffindor.” He chuckled. “Plus, I’ve moved out from my home decades ago.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “I live with James over the summer. His parents treat me as their own. Nicest couple, the Potters.”
“Wow. I never knew.”
“Well, being a teenage runaway and an outcast in my own family isn’t exactly something I should be proud of.”
You both laughed.
You were relieved to find out that there was no issue about you being a Muggleborn, especially since as stated, he came from a family of impressive and some well-known wizards who—from what you remembered—believed that being a Pureblood was equivalent to being practically royalty in the wizarding world.
Even if you knew that he wasn’t like that to begin with, there was still some doubt in your mind that perhaps his mindset is the same as theirs, considering that you’ve been a victim of prejudice over the years you studied in Hogwarts and was even called a Mudblood by a Pureblood student when you surpassed them on an exam in second year.
So, to have a confirmation right now was great. You were happy to hear from him that he didn’t have any problem with it, unlike some people who you’ve caught muttering to themselves about how Sirius could associate himself with a person like you, which inevitably led to some insecurities building up.
“Do you reckon I can get away with taking you out again next week?” asked Sirius once you were back in the Gryffindor common room, stopping before you where you stood at the last step of the stairs leading to the girl’s dormitory.
Your eyebrows rose. “There’ll be a next time?”
“Yes. If that’s okay with you,” he said with a patient smile. “Or did I read the signals wrong and you actually hated spending time with me today?”
“Don’t be foolish. I didn’t hate it.”
“You didn’t?”
“Not one bit.”
“Then how did you like it?” He was suddenly doing it again, that thing he does wherein he moves closer to you and you were bound to move away because of shyness, but somehow at this instance, you couldn’t command your feet to do its usual response.
“Hm?”
“Was it nice?” He continued, a hand now placed on the stairs’ handrail, leaning towards it. “Was it okay? Was it average? Would you ever want to be with me again?” He was teasing, it was evident on his big smile and his mischievous expression.
“I think you already know the answer to that.” You frowned cutely.
“Oh, I really don’t.”
“Sirius…”
“Tell me what you think,” he urged, tone gentle.
There were girls from your house walking down the steps, seeing the scene of Sirius gazing at you and you looking flustered playing in front of them. They hushed among themselves, glancing at you in envy, and you felt your cheeks burn at the attention.
“It was nice.” You told him finally.
“Just nice?”
“Wonderful,” you corrected.
He nodded solemnly, waiting.
“And I’d like to do it again sometime.”
He grinned. “That’s more like it. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
You smiled down at the floor. “As if I was going to say something else.”
He lifted your chin up so that your eyes could meet. “Still, I like hearing it come from your lips.”
Before you went upstairs to your room, Sirius reached for your hand and kissed the back of it, winking at you and then heading to the boy’s dormitory.
For the following weeks, the both of you were consistently hanging out and going on dates. It reached a point wherein your respective friend groups were starting to merge. It was either Martha and Iris who were going to be with you two, while anyone from Sirius’ own friends tagged along and joined the party as well.
You were naturally growing more comfortable with Sirius day by day. You even allowed him to hold your hand by the third date. He has stolen a few kisses on your forehead and cheek, and has laid his head on your lap whenever you were in the Gryffindor common room, Sirius sometimes getting your hand and placing it gently on his hair, asking if you would stroke it as he tried to take a nap.
Everything was going at such a smooth and great pace.
Sirius was great. His friends were great. What you were feeling for him was getting stronger.
The only problem was the bitter people who had no business having a say in your blooming relationship.
You knew you shouldn’t mind them, but it was hard when you could hear students whispering about you in classes and during breaks, always going on about how someone like you didn’t seem to be a good fit for Sirius, either in deep belief that Purebloods shouldn’t date Muggleborns or that you were far too quiet and timid to be a wonderful match for the ever so magnetic Sirius Black.
You couldn’t agree more, to be frank. However, your greediness and happiness were what mattered to your most in situations like these that you managed to fade those comments out.
That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.
Or influenced you to sometimes see yourself in a harsher light.
“I knew you’d still be here,” Sirius spoke from behind you, a quick kiss being planted on your temple before he took the spot next to you on the sofa.
It was past midnight, and you were still working on an essay for History of Magic. You promised Sirius an hour or two ago that you weren’t going to stay up too late, but you haven’t been adding any new paragraphs to your essay because of your overthinking, so that meant you also haven’t reached your personal quota that was made in the first place to prevent you from cramming the said output.
“I thought you were going to sleep,” you replied, looking at him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Didn’t you say you have training for Quidditch in the morning?”
“I do.”
“Which means you really have to go to bed.”
“I tried to. Really. But I couldn’t.”
“Why not? Do you need warm milk or a frame that has dozens of sheep for you to count to help you get drowsy?”
He rolled his eyes. “Ha, very funny, but I actually wanted to make sure that you were already in your room. It’s not good to be here all alone.”
“I do it all the time. Nobody’s usually up in the common room at this hour, anyways.”
“Well, next time, tell me, so I’ll keep you company.”
“Oh, but that won’t be necessary.”
“I’m aware,” he said. “However, I insist. Come on, love, we’ve talked about this.”
You smiled, apologetic. “Sorry. I should know better, shouldn’t I?”
“Well, you told me that you’re still getting used to it, so I’m not holding that against you.”
“Yeah. But that’s just it, actually. I know that I should be getting used to it. To us… to you… but my brain keeps telling me that it’s bad to do so.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know,” you trailed awkwardly, realizing that you might have said too much, but you didn’t want to stop giving him a little bit more of your thoughts, getting a sudden rush of courage you’ve been wanting to have, “perhaps just, I feel like… I don’t deserve this. Any of what’s happening between us.”
Sirius stared at you, confused. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I just feel like this is all a wonderful dream that I’d have to wake up from soon.”
“____,” he began to say your name, but you shook your head, already sensing where it was heading.
“You don’t have to say anything, Sirius. It doesn’t have anything to do with how you’re making me feel.”
“Then what’s making you think this way? Is it because of what the others are saying?”
In your silence, he got the answer he needed.
“It’s absolute rubbish, you know,” he said. He sat up straight too, appearing more passionate now. “People don’t know what they’re blabbering about. All they want is to stick their noses into others’ businesses when they don’t know anything.”
“Sometimes they have a point, though.”
“Such as?”
“Such as you being a Pureblood and me being a Muggleborn not making any sense.”
He seemed frustrated at that. His nostrils flared a bit when you mentioned it. “Since when did that matter anymore? Lily and James are literally the same.”
“Yeah, but we’re not the same same as them. We’re still different. Lily’s different. She’s much more spectacular than I am.”
“Come on, you’re being absurd. You’re amazing, ____.”
You had the nerve to laugh. “It’s fine, really. You don’t have to make me feel better. If there’s something that I’m used to, it’s this.” You sighed, going back to your previous position and focusing back on your parchment. “I’m sorry I brought it up in the first place.”
“No, don’t be,” he reached for your hand and forced you to face him again, in which you did, but you still couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I should be the one apologizing. I haven’t been checking up on you about this. I should have known better that this was something that would bother you.”
“What do you even see in me, Sirius?”
“What?”
“We nearly have nothing in common. You should be someone who’s at the same level as you are.”
“No, I don’t. I much rather be with you—regardless of how different we are, I don’t particularly care and I never thought of it as an issue nor will I ever do.” Sirius pursed his lips, appearing a bit nervous now because of what he was going to say. “Look, ____, I like you so much. I like every aspect of you and what kind of person you are. I see what you’re made of, and I cherish you very much because of it. I like your kindness, your wit, your energy, and your whole being. You’re simply the easiest person to adore, and I’m utterly puzzled that you cannot see it.”
Your tongue felt dry. No one has ever declared what they felt for you in that manner before. It caused your eyes to tear up a bit at the overwhelming reality that there was a person out there who saw you this way, who liked you for who you are and didn’t give two cents of what others thought of about it. You were so accustomed to being unseen, not given that much importance to, that to have Sirius tell you what you meant to him brought indescribable contentment in your heart.
So, without thinking, you leaned towards him and kissed his lips, bringing your arms around his neck while he parted his mouth in surprise, nonetheless wrapping his own around your waist to support your weight on him.
Sirius reciprocated the kiss, matching the vigor you were showing him, despite being shocked that you were the one who initiated your first ever real kiss with him. He was under the impression that it would take more dates before the both of you would reach this point, a concept that he didn’t have any problem with since he was sincere when he said he’d be patient with you, and that he’d be the one who was going to test the waters before asking if you were good with the thought of him planting a kiss on your lips.
“I like you so much too, Sirius,” you whispered, pulling away and gasping for air. “Having you be in my life is perhaps one of the most unexpected yet greatest things to happen to me.”
He grinned at that, pressing another firm kiss on your lips that made you sigh. “You’re so wonderful, love. I should’ve been with you since first year if only I wasn’t a bloody coward.”
You both laughed at his statement.
“It’s fine,” you assured him. “You have a lifetime now to show me what I’ve been missing.”
“You’re exceptionally bold tonight.” He observed.
“Well, the guy I have been crushing on and dating just made a heartfelt declaration of his attraction to me so I’m feeling my best.”
“About time that he did, honestly. Will this guy have the honor of being officially your boyfriend if he asked tonight?”
Your eyes widened. “That depends. Is he going to ask right now?”
“He’s about to. Just after he stops pretending that he’s pertaining to another guy and not himself.”
Another laugh and you were kissing him again, Sirius holding onto you tightly as he kept you in his embrace.
“Be mine?” he murmured against you, drawing his head back a little so he could stare directly at your eyes.
You smiled. You were on cloud nine; there was nothing that could ruin your entire year. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
Sirius leaned for a longer kiss, much longer than the one you just shared earlier. He thought of how he could stay all night like this, how he might have to fake sickness just to ditch quidditch practices so he wouldn’t have to wake up so damn early, but before he could seriously contemplate it, you retracted your mouth from his and was telling him that he should go back to sleep because he had a tiring day ahead of him.
He frowned, wanting to kiss you again but you shook your head, evading his advances and giggling. “Sirius, you have practice in a few hours,” you told him again, “and I have to finish my essay too. You should head back.”
“For real?”
“For real.”
“But—”
“No, no.” You stood up and pulled him with you. “As your girlfriend now, my opinion holds more bearing, so when I say that you should go back to sleep—”
“I should follow you?” he finished, allowing you to lead him back to where the boy’s dormitory is headed.
You grinned, teasing. “Only if you want to, of course.”
He snorted. “You promise not to stay up too late? Because as your boyfriend, I should be entitled to stop you from making bad decisions as well.”
“Yes, I won’t. You have my word.”
“Good.” Sirius pecked your lips. “Goodnight, beautiful.”
An even bigger grin made its way to your features. “Goodnight. I’ll see you at lunch?”
He nodded. “You’ll probably catch me standing at the Gryffindor table too. I have to announce to the whole school that you’re my girlfriend. Can’t have anyone thinking you’re still available, right?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would.”
“Sirius.”
“Goodnight. Dream of me, would you?” He snickered, abruptly rushing to the dormitory and leaving you there, speechless.
You were positive that he was only bluffing to tease the hell out of you who was not a fan of too much attention, but somehow, considering Sirius’ track record of being mischievous, you suddenly feared that he was not bluffing like you reckoned him to be.
Not to mention that he could be really petty at times too, and given that a lot of students still did not believe that a person like him would like a person like you, making a dramatic proclamation of how much he liked you and how much he hated those who couldn’t keep their idiotic opinions to themselves would certainly make a point.
For some reason, you found yourself smiling at the idea, secretly pleased that you had Sirius—the person you were now sure would move the earth and moon for you if that was what you wanted.
thank you for reading! as i’m a sucker for validation, feedback is highly appreciated hehe ♡
— jake seresin x fem!reader | the one where jake always finds the most amusing ways to prove how loyal he is to you.
( 1.6k words ) pg-15; fluff, established relationship au
Jake Seresin has a lot of bad adjectives under his name. Arrogant, tactless, stubborn—the list could go on and on.
But fortunately for you, his girlfriend of four years, the label of the world’s biggest asshole of a partner and a womanizer was not one of them. In fact, that was one of the qualities that people could willingly give him credit for. He might seem to be the kind of guy who loved to be surrounded by women and be some sort of casanova (which can be true in some degree), but the second that he was in an exclusive relationship with a person, then you bet that he was going to be a dedicated his woman who couldn’t even physically look at another.
Especially when you were wearing that yellow sundress you knew drove him absolute nuts, leaning forward to the counter of the Hard Deck and letting the ends of your attire rise up closer to your ass.
How could he ever trail his eyes on anyone or anywhere else but you? It was unfair really, and the fact that you weren’t a fan of inappropriate displays of public affection—meaning he couldn’t be overly touchy and cave into the urge of grabbing you from behind—tortured him a hundred times more.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asked you with a smirk, gaze moving up and down your figure for the nth time that afternoon, downing his beer following his comment. “You love giving me blue balls at the most random places, hm?”
You laughed out loud.
In your defense, you certainly weren’t doing anything extreme for him to end up with blue balls. Hell, you weren’t even doing anything to begin with. However, you couldn’t deny that your intentions of wearing this yellow sundress were all innocent like you were trying to make him believe.
After all, it’s been almost two months since the last time you’ve been together due to his return to Top Gun for a mission, and sadly for you, San Diego was a three-hour drive away from where you resided, hence when you received the invitation to celebrate with Jake and the team he worked with upon the success of their mission, you didn’t have to think twice and immediately filed for a leave of absence that covered two days just to finally be with him.
“You villainize me too much sometimes, babe,” you teased.
“Oh, so are you telling me you didn’t wear that on purpose?” He quickly gestured over your body.
“Of course not.” There you were again with the feigned innocence. “I literally have no idea what you’re trying to prove here.”
It was his turn to laugh out loud. “God, I missed you.” He took a step closer to where you were and allowed himself to place a hand on your waist, subtly pulling you closer, a gesture you smiled at. “Remind me later that I will seriously make up for all the lost time we had over the past month.”
“It’ll be my absolute pleasure.”
Jake was supposed to take that as a cue to give you a long kiss on the mouth, but just as he was leaning in to do just that, someone with a rather exaggerated high pitched voice steals his attention.
“Hangman!” she said, and you turned your eyes from Jake to the person who called him, coming face to face with the young barmaid across the bar who you’ve been trying to call yourself earlier but was never even looked at for she was too busy attending to other customers. “Great to see you here, handsome. What can I get you?”
As soon as you realized what she called him, the word handsome rang in your ears; instead of your mood immediately turning sour though, a part of you was already trying to convince yourself that perhaps the barmaid just pertained to everyone like that and Jake was no one special—meaning that this jealousy you can feel brewing inside your chest may also be just rooted from pure nonsense and you really shouldn’t engage with it much further.
“Two beers,” he replied, flickering his gaze back to you.
The barmaid followed suit, and for the first time, she seemed to be aware of your existence. “Oh, and who’s this?” Her tone was friendly, which almost made you calm down and erase your previous thoughts, but then she decided to open her mouth again and you knew right there immediately that your hunch was right all along. “Is she your sister, Hangman?”
You blinked in disbelief.
To ever assume that you and Jake were siblings was practically the same thing as announcing yourself as blind.
“No, not my sister,” Jake was quick to say.
“A cousin then?” She spoke too fast once more, beating Jake who was about to add something to his statement.
“Wrong again, Bonnie,” he said, smirking and all cool about the interaction. “You’re actually looking at Mrs. Seresin right here,” he nodded towards you, “she’s my wife.”
You froze.
And so did Bonnie the barmaid.
“Wife?” Bonnie attempted to appear unfazed about the revelation. “I didn’t know you were married, sweetheart. I never saw a ring on your finger.” There was a certain smug tone to her voice by the end, as if she was insinuating that he was hiding your marriage.
“I keep it chained around my dog tag. Wouldn’t want to lose it when I’m doing my field work.” He proceeded on tapping his chest, his mentioned dog tag under his shirt.
It really isn’t there, because the two of you aren’t really married, but Bonnie didn’t bother asking him to pull out the necklace to really prove to her that he was no longer available like she reckoned. Instead, she curtly smiled—a forced smile that made you cringe because of how forced it was—and said a quiet “oh, I see,” and walked away, heading to get your drinks as fast as she could.
When she came back, she didn’t even bother making eye contact or conversation like earlier. She just placed the two bottles on the counter and left to attend to another customer.
You scoffed out a laugh.
“Here’s your drink, wifey.” Jake slid the bottle towards you, his signature smirk still in place.
You grinned. “I’m Mrs. Seresin now, huh?”
He took a sip of his beer before tugging you towards him, closing the gap between your bodies again, leaning in to give you that kiss he was deprived of doing earlier with a chuckle. “Soon hopefully.”
“Hm,” you gave him another kiss on the lips, a thank you for always proving that he was faithful to you, while your arms naturally wrapped itself around his torso in affection, “sounds amazing, but I prefer that you put a ring on my finger first before introducing me as such, honey.”
“A ring on your finger, huh?” He mused, one more kiss being planted on your mouth.
Without skipping a beat then, he took out the dog tag from under his shirt where a ring was really present—but instead of a ring that ought to be fit for a man, it unmistakingly looked like a ring someone would propose with, given the glistening gem staring back at you as you gaped at it.
You glanced up at him in bewilderment, speechless. “Jake—”
“I was supposed to do it later this evening,” he started explaining, “but you know how I am. I get impatient—and I really can’t wait to introduce you as my fiancé.”
“You’re really proposing?” you asked.
Jake reached for his dog tag, unclasping it and getting the ring. “You don’t believe me?”
“It’s not that,” you laughed out of shock still, “I just can’t—did you plan a skit with Bonnie or something? Why do you even have that ring around your neck?”
“For the record, I didn’t plan anything with Bonnie,” he said, “and about the ring, I kept it here because I was afraid of losing it. Or not having it with me in case I find the right time to propose.”
“And you think this is the right time to propose?”
“Yeah. Unless you want me to stand on this counter, declare my love for you loudly so that all of the—”
You shook your head and held his bicep, stopping him from continuing, causing Jake to laugh. He knew how much you hated being the center of attention, especially in a crowd like this where the majority were part of the Navy. No hate to them, of course, it’s just that judging from how Jake was whenever he was with his naval officer peers, they could truly be a little bit rowdy at times when the moment called for it.
“No thanks, I’m good with this.”
He smiled widely, tilting your chin up to capture your lips for the fourth time, and you melted into him, locking your arms around his neck, not minding this very public display of affection like you normally would. It’s like every piece of positive emotion you felt for your Jake was pouring out of you, and you didn’t know what to do to control it other than caving into what you wanted to do this second—which was to be as close to him as possible.
He was the first to pull away, grinning at you. “Marry me?” he asks again.
You bit your lip to suppress an ever bigger grin. “I thought we’re already married?”
Jake laughed at the jab on the stunt he pulled earlier, kissing you once more.
thank you for reading! as i’m a sucker for validation, feedback is highly appreciated hehe ♡
— jake seresin x fem!reader | the one where jake always finds the most amusing ways to prove how loyal he is to you.
( 1.6k words ) pg-15; fluff, established relationship au
Jake Seresin has a lot of bad adjectives under his name. Arrogant, tactless, stubborn—the list could go on and on.
But fortunately for you, his girlfriend of four years, the label of the world’s biggest asshole of a partner and a womanizer was not one of them. In fact, that was one of the qualities that people could willingly give him credit for. He might seem to be the kind of guy who loved to be surrounded by women and be some sort of casanova (which can be true in some degree), but the second that he was in an exclusive relationship with a person, then you bet that he was going to be a dedicated his woman who couldn’t even physically look at another.
Especially when you were wearing that yellow sundress you knew drove him absolute nuts, leaning forward to the counter of the Hard Deck and letting the ends of your attire rise up closer to your ass.
How could he ever trail his eyes on anyone or anywhere else but you? It was unfair really, and the fact that you weren’t a fan of inappropriate displays of public affection—meaning he couldn’t be overly touchy and cave into the urge of grabbing you from behind—tortured him a hundred times more.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asked you with a smirk, gaze moving up and down your figure for the nth time that afternoon, downing his beer following his comment. “You love giving me blue balls at the most random places, hm?”
You laughed out loud.
In your defense, you certainly weren’t doing anything extreme for him to end up with blue balls. Hell, you weren’t even doing anything to begin with. However, you couldn’t deny that your intentions of wearing this yellow sundress were all innocent like you were trying to make him believe.
After all, it’s been almost two months since the last time you’ve been together due to his return to Top Gun for a mission, and sadly for you, San Diego was a three-hour drive away from where you resided, hence when you received the invitation to celebrate with Jake and the team he worked with upon the success of their mission, you didn’t have to think twice and immediately filed for a leave of absence that covered two days just to finally be with him.
“You villainize me too much sometimes, babe,” you teased.
“Oh, so are you telling me you didn’t wear that on purpose?” He quickly gestured over your body.
“Of course not.” There you were again with the feigned innocence. “I literally have no idea what you’re trying to prove here.”
It was his turn to laugh out loud. “God, I missed you.” He took a step closer to where you were and allowed himself to place a hand on your waist, subtly pulling you closer, a gesture you smiled at. “Remind me later that I will seriously make up for all the lost time we had over the past month.”
“It’ll be my absolute pleasure.”
Jake was supposed to take that as a cue to give you a long kiss on the mouth, but just as he was leaning in to do just that, someone with a rather exaggerated high pitched voice steals his attention.
“Hangman!” she said, and you turned your eyes from Jake to the person who called him, coming face to face with the young barmaid across the bar who you’ve been trying to call yourself earlier but was never even looked at for she was too busy attending to other customers. “Great to see you here, handsome. What can I get you?”
As soon as you realized what she called him, the word handsome rang in your ears; instead of your mood immediately turning sour though, a part of you was already trying to convince yourself that perhaps the barmaid just pertained to everyone like that and Jake was no one special—meaning that this jealousy you can feel brewing inside your chest may also be just rooted from pure nonsense and you really shouldn’t engage with it much further.
“Two beers,” he replied, flickering his gaze back to you.
The barmaid followed suit, and for the first time, she seemed to be aware of your existence. “Oh, and who’s this?” Her tone was friendly, which almost made you calm down and erase your previous thoughts, but then she decided to open her mouth again and you knew right there immediately that your hunch was right all along. “Is she your sister, Hangman?”
You blinked in disbelief.
To ever assume that you and Jake were siblings was practically the same thing as announcing yourself as blind.
“No, not my sister,” Jake was quick to say.
“A cousin then?” She spoke too fast once more, beating Jake who was about to add something to his statement.
“Wrong again, Bonnie,” he said, smirking and all cool about the interaction. “You’re actually looking at Mrs. Seresin right here,” he nodded towards you, “she’s my wife.”
You froze.
And so did Bonnie the barmaid.
“Wife?” Bonnie attempted to appear unfazed about the revelation. “I didn’t know you were married, sweetheart. I never saw a ring on your finger.” There was a certain smug tone to her voice by the end, as if she was insinuating that he was hiding your marriage.
“I keep it chained around my dog tag. Wouldn’t want to lose it when I’m doing my field work.” He proceeded on tapping his chest, his mentioned dog tag under his shirt.
It really isn’t there, because the two of you aren’t really married, but Bonnie didn’t bother asking him to pull out the necklace to really prove to her that he was no longer available like she reckoned. Instead, she curtly smiled—a forced smile that made you cringe because of how forced it was—and said a quiet “oh, I see,” and walked away, heading to get your drinks as fast as she could.
When she came back, she didn’t even bother making eye contact or conversation like earlier. She just placed the two bottles on the counter and left to attend to another customer.
You scoffed out a laugh.
“Here’s your drink, wifey.” Jake slid the bottle towards you, his signature smirk still in place.
You grinned. “I’m Mrs. Seresin now, huh?”
He took a sip of his beer before tugging you towards him, closing the gap between your bodies again, leaning in to give you that kiss he was deprived of doing earlier with a chuckle. “Soon hopefully.”
“Hm,” you gave him another kiss on the lips, a thank you for always proving that he was faithful to you, while your arms naturally wrapped itself around his torso in affection, “sounds amazing, but I prefer that you put a ring on my finger first before introducing me as such, honey.”
“A ring on your finger, huh?” He mused, one more kiss being planted on your mouth.
Without skipping a beat then, he took out the dog tag from under his shirt where a ring was really present—but instead of a ring that ought to be fit for a man, it unmistakingly looked like a ring someone would propose with, given the glistening gem staring back at you as you gaped at it.
You glanced up at him in bewilderment, speechless. “Jake—”
“I was supposed to do it later this evening,” he started explaining, “but you know how I am. I get impatient—and I really can’t wait to introduce you as my fiancé.”
“You’re really proposing?” you asked.
Jake reached for his dog tag, unclasping it and getting the ring. “You don’t believe me?”
“It’s not that,” you laughed out of shock still, “I just can’t—did you plan a skit with Bonnie or something? Why do you even have that ring around your neck?”
“For the record, I didn’t plan anything with Bonnie,” he said, “and about the ring, I kept it here because I was afraid of losing it. Or not having it with me in case I find the right time to propose.”
“And you think this is the right time to propose?”
“Yeah. Unless you want me to stand on this counter, declare my love for you loudly so that all of the—”
You shook your head and held his bicep, stopping him from continuing, causing Jake to laugh. He knew how much you hated being the center of attention, especially in a crowd like this where the majority were part of the Navy. No hate to them, of course, it’s just that judging from how Jake was whenever he was with his naval officer peers, they could truly be a little bit rowdy at times when the moment called for it.
“No thanks, I’m good with this.”
He smiled widely, tilting your chin up to capture your lips for the fourth time, and you melted into him, locking your arms around his neck, not minding this very public display of affection like you normally would. It’s like every piece of positive emotion you felt for your Jake was pouring out of you, and you didn’t know what to do to control it other than caving into what you wanted to do this second—which was to be as close to him as possible.
He was the first to pull away, grinning at you. “Marry me?” he asks again.
You bit your lip to suppress an ever bigger grin. “I thought we’re already married?”
Jake laughed at the jab on the stunt he pulled earlier, kissing you once more.
thank you for reading! as i’m a sucker for validation, feedback is highly appreciated hehe ♡
— jake seresin x fem!reader | the one where jake always finds the most amusing ways to prove how loyal he is to you.
( 1.6k words ) pg-15; fluff, established relationship au
Jake Seresin has a lot of bad adjectives under his name. Arrogant, tactless, stubborn—the list could go on and on.
But fortunately for you, his girlfriend of four years, the label of the world’s biggest asshole of a partner and a womanizer was not one of them. In fact, that was one of the qualities that people could willingly give him credit for. He might seem to be the kind of guy who loved to be surrounded by women and be some sort of casanova (which can be true in some degree), but the second that he was in an exclusive relationship with a person, then you bet that he was going to be a dedicated his woman who couldn’t even physically look at another.
Especially when you were wearing that yellow sundress you knew drove him absolute nuts, leaning forward to the counter of the Hard Deck and letting the ends of your attire rise up closer to your ass.
How could he ever trail his eyes on anyone or anywhere else but you? It was unfair really, and the fact that you weren’t a fan of inappropriate displays of public affection—meaning he couldn’t be overly touchy and cave into the urge of grabbing you from behind—tortured him a hundred times more.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asked you with a smirk, gaze moving up and down your figure for the nth time that afternoon, downing his beer following his comment. “You love giving me blue balls at the most random places, hm?”
You laughed out loud.
In your defense, you certainly weren’t doing anything extreme for him to end up with blue balls. Hell, you weren’t even doing anything to begin with. However, you couldn’t deny that your intentions of wearing this yellow sundress were all innocent like you were trying to make him believe.
After all, it’s been almost two months since the last time you’ve been together due to his return to Top Gun for a mission, and sadly for you, San Diego was a three-hour drive away from where you resided, hence when you received the invitation to celebrate with Jake and the team he worked with upon the success of their mission, you didn’t have to think twice and immediately filed for a leave of absence that covered two days just to finally be with him.
“You villainize me too much sometimes, babe,” you teased.
“Oh, so are you telling me you didn’t wear that on purpose?” He quickly gestured over your body.
“Of course not.” There you were again with the feigned innocence. “I literally have no idea what you’re trying to prove here.”
It was his turn to laugh out loud. “God, I missed you.” He took a step closer to where you were and allowed himself to place a hand on your waist, subtly pulling you closer, a gesture you smiled at. “Remind me later that I will seriously make up for all the lost time we had over the past month.”
“It’ll be my absolute pleasure.”
Jake was supposed to take that as a cue to give you a long kiss on the mouth, but just as he was leaning in to do just that, someone with a rather exaggerated high pitched voice steals his attention.
“Hangman!” she said, and you turned your eyes from Jake to the person who called him, coming face to face with the young barmaid across the bar who you’ve been trying to call yourself earlier but was never even looked at for she was too busy attending to other customers. “Great to see you here, handsome. What can I get you?”
As soon as you realized what she called him, the word handsome rang in your ears; instead of your mood immediately turning sour though, a part of you was already trying to convince yourself that perhaps the barmaid just pertained to everyone like that and Jake was no one special—meaning that this jealousy you can feel brewing inside your chest may also be just rooted from pure nonsense and you really shouldn’t engage with it much further.
“Two beers,” he replied, flickering his gaze back to you.
The barmaid followed suit, and for the first time, she seemed to be aware of your existence. “Oh, and who’s this?” Her tone was friendly, which almost made you calm down and erase your previous thoughts, but then she decided to open her mouth again and you knew right there immediately that your hunch was right all along. “Is she your sister, Hangman?”
You blinked in disbelief.
To ever assume that you and Jake were siblings was practically the same thing as announcing yourself as blind.
“No, not my sister,” Jake was quick to say.
“A cousin then?” She spoke too fast once more, beating Jake who was about to add something to his statement.
“Wrong again, Bonnie,” he said, smirking and all cool about the interaction. “You’re actually looking at Mrs. Seresin right here,” he nodded towards you, “she’s my wife.”
You froze.
And so did Bonnie the barmaid.
“Wife?” Bonnie attempted to appear unfazed about the revelation. “I didn’t know you were married, sweetheart. I never saw a ring on your finger.” There was a certain smug tone to her voice by the end, as if she was insinuating that he was hiding your marriage.
“I keep it chained around my dog tag. Wouldn’t want to lose it when I’m doing my field work.” He proceeded on tapping his chest, his mentioned dog tag under his shirt.
It really isn’t there, because the two of you aren’t really married, but Bonnie didn’t bother asking him to pull out the necklace to really prove to her that he was no longer available like she reckoned. Instead, she curtly smiled—a forced smile that made you cringe because of how forced it was—and said a quiet “oh, I see,” and walked away, heading to get your drinks as fast as she could.
When she came back, she didn’t even bother making eye contact or conversation like earlier. She just placed the two bottles on the counter and left to attend to another customer.
You scoffed out a laugh.
“Here’s your drink, wifey.” Jake slid the bottle towards you, his signature smirk still in place.
You grinned. “I’m Mrs. Seresin now, huh?”
He took a sip of his beer before tugging you towards him, closing the gap between your bodies again, leaning in to give you that kiss he was deprived of doing earlier with a chuckle. “Soon hopefully.”
“Hm,” you gave him another kiss on the lips, a thank you for always proving that he was faithful to you, while your arms naturally wrapped itself around his torso in affection, “sounds amazing, but I prefer that you put a ring on my finger first before introducing me as such, honey.”
“A ring on your finger, huh?” He mused, one more kiss being planted on your mouth.
Without skipping a beat then, he took out the dog tag from under his shirt where a ring was really present—but instead of a ring that ought to be fit for a man, it unmistakingly looked like a ring someone would propose with, given the glistening gem staring back at you as you gaped at it.
You glanced up at him in bewilderment, speechless. “Jake—”
“I was supposed to do it later this evening,” he started explaining, “but you know how I am. I get impatient—and I really can’t wait to introduce you as my fiancé.”
“You’re really proposing?” you asked.
Jake reached for his dog tag, unclasping it and getting the ring. “You don’t believe me?”
“It’s not that,” you laughed out of shock still, “I just can’t—did you plan a skit with Bonnie or something? Why do you even have that ring around your neck?”
“For the record, I didn’t plan anything with Bonnie,” he said, “and about the ring, I kept it here because I was afraid of losing it. Or not having it with me in case I find the right time to propose.”
“And you think this is the right time to propose?”
“Yeah. Unless you want me to stand on this counter, declare my love for you loudly so that all of the—”
You shook your head and held his bicep, stopping him from continuing, causing Jake to laugh. He knew how much you hated being the center of attention, especially in a crowd like this where the majority were part of the Navy. No hate to them, of course, it’s just that judging from how Jake was whenever he was with his naval officer peers, they could truly be a little bit rowdy at times when the moment called for it.
“No thanks, I’m good with this.”
He smiled widely, tilting your chin up to capture your lips for the fourth time, and you melted into him, locking your arms around his neck, not minding this very public display of affection like you normally would. It’s like every piece of positive emotion you felt for your Jake was pouring out of you, and you didn’t know what to do to control it other than caving into what you wanted to do this second—which was to be as close to him as possible.
He was the first to pull away, grinning at you. “Marry me?” he asks again.
You bit your lip to suppress an ever bigger grin. “I thought we’re already married?”
Jake laughed at the jab on the stunt he pulled earlier, kissing you once more.
thank you for reading! as i’m a sucker for validation, feedback is highly appreciated hehe ♡
