this is an extensive list (in order of fic length) honestly doing this mostly for myself lol cause i reread these so often, thank you to all the authors for your fics <3
especially my fave joaquin fic authors: @love-chx @sortagaysortahigh @geminiwritten @cursedheartsclub @of-apollo please read their fics beyond the ones listed below!! <3
p.s. please let me know if you would like me to remove your work from the list <3
personal favourites - 💗
friday night dinner by @love-chx // roommate!series // fluff // jealous!joaquin 💗
your roommate ambushes you in your own home with congressman bucky and captain america sam. chaos ensues as joaquin convinces you to let them stay for dinner.
tell me i'm your national anthem by @love-chx // roommate!series // fluff 💗
fourth of july party
stakeout by @sunsburns // fluff // bestfriends-to-lovers, slight jealous!joaquin 💗
only you, only you by @of-apollo // fluff // pbjj!au, mutual pining 💗 You and Joaquin have spent a long time dancing around your feelings for each other. It doesn’t help that he might just be the most oblivious man alive. Luckily, your friends are relentless in their efforts to get you together.
swimming pools by @mindfulsweetheart // fluff // pbjj!au 💗
joaquín takes care of you after a night out with friends leads you right to his doorstep.
gazes by @joaquinwhorres // fluff, suggestive // mutual pining 💗
It's become increasingly apparent to Sam and Bucky that you and Joaquin cannot take your eyes off each other. Unfortunately for them, you two have decided to be Professionals and that means keeping your eyes, hands, and lips to yourselves. No matter how difficult it is.
only exes in the building by @snoopysupe // fluff, angst // exes-to-lovers, mutual pining 💗
you only had two months left on your lease with your ex
Nobody Gets Me by @sortagaysortahigh // angst, hurt/no comfort, no happy ending // exes, jealous!joaquin 💗
Getting married young had its risks, unfortunately for you and Joaquin, that marriage didn't work out, it's been years since you've been in contact, so why do your hearts still ache?
trick or treating by @magicalqueennightmare // fluff // established relationship
You and Joaquin take Sarah's boys trick or treating for her
A Hard Day by @emeraldserenade // fluff // roommate!au, friends-to-lovers
You had a hard day and Joaquín's there for you
Meeting the Roommates by @everydaydreamer // fluff // pbjj!au, slight jealous!joaquin, established relationship
Joaquin, your boyfriend, brings you over and introduces you to his roommates.
clueless by @munsonify // fluff // friends-to-lovers
you and joaquin are practically dating, and the only people who don’t seem to realize that is you two.
Miss Possessive by @petertingle-yipyip // fluff // jealous!reader
So what if you were a little possessive? No one got hurt.
The 5 Times Joaquín's Outfits Left You Speechless (and the one time you returned the favour) by @mrs-elsie-barnes // fluff, slight angst // coworkers Joaquín absolutely loves showing off in front of you, but he doesn't have to try hard to leave your mouth dry and your brain void of words. You're fairly sure he's just teasing, until his accident forces your feelings to the fore.
figure me out by @utopeian // fluff, angst, hurt/comfort // friends-to-lovers, jealous!reader
Being jealous and avoidant was no fun, but it was definitely one way to get with the guy you've been pining over for years.
Bed Chem by @sunshine-lux // fluff, extremely suggestive
the four times you made Joaquin speechless and the one time he got you back!
plus one by @fireinmoonshot // fluff, suggestive // established relationship
You help Joaquín get ready for a gala that he and Sam are attending – though because of the 'no plus ones' rule, Joaquín would rather stay with you instead... and he intends to convince you to let him.
means i care by @flowersforbucky // fluff, slight angst // friends-to-lovers, pining, enhanced!reader
"You were dead, Joaquín. Your heart wasn't beating when I pulled you from that water." He grins, taking your hand in his. He brings it to his lips and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Well, it’s beating now. Because of you. But what’s new? My heart always beats for you.”
hover by @peterparkive // fluff, slightly suggestive // jealous!joaquin, established relationship
you just want to enjoy one good night out with your friends, your boyfriend, and some dangerously good cocktails—but some guys never learned to take a hint. luckily for you, joaquin’s never been shy when it comes to reminding everyone that you’re completely and utterly spoken for
oh, so pathetic! by @of-apollo // fluff // college!au, situationship!au, jealous!joaquin
Both you and Joaquin think that you’re more than happy with whatever you have being undefined. And then, Joaquin is the first to crumble (quite pathetically) and confess everything when he sees you flirting with someone else at a party.
Project Aphrodite by @happypopcornprincess // fluff, slight angst // holiday!au
When the Avengers get tired of watching you and Joaquin dance around your feelings for each other, they take matters into their own hands.
"I Don't Know If I Wanna Be You or Him." by @dameronspector // fluff
You finally get a chance to meet your idol. Your boyfriend is a massive fan as well. The two of you have a blast and receive an offer that you wouldn't dream of passing on. Joaquin experiences a confusing mix of emotions and you, Sam and Joaquin get the celebrity treatment.
everything, everywhere by @myladybelle // fluff, angst, suggestive // bestfriends-to-lovers, mutual pining
being long-distance best friends with joaquín isn’t easy now that you’re on different teams. the more you talk, tease, and lean on each other, the clearer it becomes that friendship might not be enough for you anymore.
forget it by @sunsburns // angst with happy ending // exes-to-lovers reuniting with ex!joaquín after his near death experience, but you’re the nurse assigned to his care after he gets out of surgery. you broke up a couple years ago because of your very demanding careers, and you don’t see him until you realize they put YOU on babysitting duty to nurse him back to health, yikes!
Sunshine by @sortagaysortahigh // fluff, suggestive // enemies-to-lovers, grumpy x sunshine, college!au, pining
Joaquin Torres had a reputation to upkeep, one that wasn't entirely accurate, but it was easier to fake the front. Or at least it was, until he realized he was falling for you, but you wanted nothing to do with that version of him OR Joaquin Torres pins after you, showing you who he really is, and you finally let him in.
smut warning below! 18+ mdni!
fall apart by @moonlight-pro // smut // established relationship 💗
distractions were best kept under wraps. even as joaquin blindly allowed you to toy with him at the worst possible moment. OR giving joaquin nasty head during his phone call with sam.
concentrate by @joequiinn // smut // established relationship 💗 You're stuck on an important business call, and Joaquin is making it incredibly difficult to stay focused...
roommate's helping hand by @jordiemeow // smut // roommate!au 💗 after his injury in cabnw, he’s super horny but it hurts his arm to jerk off :( so ofc reader notices how moody he is from being so pent up and he begs them to help him when confronted
Taste by @sortagaysortahigh // smut, fluff, slight angst // exes-to-lovers 💗
Desk duty at the Avengers compound was simple work, but throw in your obnoxious ex-boyfriend Joaquin, and a plant from a different planet, and you have a whole other problem on your hands.
you've got mail by @love-chx // roommate!series // smut, fluff, angst // jealous!reader 💗
when joaquin gets a letter from an old friend from bootcamp, some unsuspecting feelings start to arise in you—feelings that you didn’t think you had for your dear roommate. you try to brush it off, to return to some semblance of normalcy in your shared home. but when joaquin sends you pictures from his catch up with his dear old friend, something hot and possessive stirs inside of you. and this time, you can’t ignore it.
Already Best Friends by @cursedheartsclub // smut, fluff // friends-to-lovers, roommate!au. jealous!joaquin, pining 💗
almost wasn't by @cursedheartsclub // smut, fluff, slight angst // friends-to-lovers, mutual pining 💗
You and Joaquin have been best friends since the Air Force—shoulders pressed side by side through deployments, shitty rations, late-night confessions, and every almost that never became something more. You’ve seen him fall in and out of love. He’s seen you pretend you don’t need more than friendship. You date other people. You go on double dates. But every time, you end up right back next to each other—too close, too familiar, too full of everything you won’t say. Until one night, everything breaks open. And it turns out, the only thing worse than wanting him all this time… is realizing he’s always wanted you too.
safehouse by @geminiwritten // smut, fluff // slight jealous!joaquin 💗
you're an ex-assassin trained by hawkeye and black widow, and your old friend sam needs your help on a mission alongside his new protege... but things don't go exactly to plan and you end up indefinitely stuck in a safehouse with joaquín.
no promise of tomorrow by @love-chx // smut, angst // situationship!au 💗
you and joaquin work together and have sex--two entirely separate parts of your lives. but when you suddenly as for more one day, joaquin falters. a week long mission where another man captures your attention makes joaquin regret the words he doesn't say. but does it really change anything?
all maps lead to you by @love-chx // sequel to no promise of tomorrow // smut, fluff, angst // situationship!au 💗
though the post-haze of your last mission with joaquin has yet to settle and the storm between the two of you has barely started to form, you’re thrown into another battle front at the behest of bucky. thankfully, this time, you have a shield who goes by the name of bob. but…you might be the only one who’s grateful for his presence. between bob’s soft demeanor and joaquin’s tough exterior, you worry you might not make it through this mission.
friends don't by @geminiwritten // smut, fluff // roommate!au, fwb, jealous!joaquin 💗
it was only ever supposed to be casual. convenient. roommates with benefits—two rules: no kissing, no falling in love. but when joaquín returns from a week-long mission and his mother comes to stay, tensions rise, jealousy snaps, boundaries blur, and breaking those rules becomes inevitable.
kinktober day 23 by @cursedheartsclub // smut, fluff // friends-to-lovers, coworkers 💗
praise kink
roommates to lovers by @cursedheartsclub // smut, fluff // roommate!au, blurb
World Saving Deserves A Reward by @sunflowerlando // smut
Joaquín is back from another mission, and you want to thank him for always being out there trying to save the world.
Friends Don't Hook Up by @emeraldserenade // smut, fluff // bestfriends-to-lovers
A night changes everything after you and Joaquín finally give into the sexual tension.
Hot, Bothered and Tactical by @fireside-fanfics // smut, fluff // established relationship
Thrist Trap by @hauntedhowlett-writes // smut // friends-to-lovers
joaquin accidentally sends you a shirtless selfie
real love purified by @utopeian // smut, fluff
Joaquin's obsessed with the fact that you were soulmates in your past lives, even more so that there's evidence of it: your moles.
A Little Distraction by @blank-potato // smut // coworkers
It's been a while since you've gotten laid, and it's starting to affect your concentration. It especially doesn't help when the person you're training is Joaquin Torres.
never late is better by @luvemmdubb // smut, fluff, slight angst // established relationship
Joaquín is late for your anniversary dinner.
lending a helping hand by @love-chx // roommate!series // smut // fwb
a big client’s request for a custom art piece has clouded your mind the past few weeks, leaving you stressed and tensed. it was a pain to be around, so joaquin had no choice but to confront you and support you. he’ll help you get unblocked, he insists, no matter how creative it gets.
Me Rehúso by @therogueflame // smut, angst, hurt/comfort // exes
It was just a drink. Just catching up. Just a little too late to call it nothing.
Redamancy by @phantomspiderr // smut, fluff, angst // fwb
The aftermath of sleeping with your best friend is never good—feelings grow where they weren't supposed to, and it drives a wedge in your relationship. Then things change...
Mi Amor, Mi Guerra by @cursedheartsclub // smut, angst, fluff // (one-sided) enemies-to-lovers, thunderbolts*
thunderbolts and sams avengers team are working together (sambucky no longer divorced) but y/n and Joaquin are both fighting to see who is better in Sam’s eyes?
woman in the chair by @kikismultifics // smut, fluff // mutual pining, enhanced!reader
after a scare from Joaquin on a mission, and you're forced to patch him up (because he's too stubborn to get properly looked at), you realize that maybe your feelings for the new Falcon goes beyond just caring for him like a friend. When he realizes that you are in much need of a carefree night full of alcohol, you're forced to confront your feelings—as well as his.
sin ti by @moonlight-prose // smut, fluff, angst // exes-to-lovers, pining
five years have passed. five years since he boarded a plane and left you behind to wait diligently for the man who would never return. when letters and patchy phone calls failed to keep the spark of your relationship alive, you find each other again. only this time as two entirely different people.
welcome home by @love-chx // smut, fluff, angst // exes-to-lovers
drifting from state to state looking for a place in the world after the death of tony, you find yourself back on new york ground when bucky starts the new avengers. coming back to cement your dad’s legacy, you promise yourself you’ll be out of the city before anyone even knows you’re there. but circumstances lead you right to joaquin, and you’re forced to face your hurt ex-boyfriend, having no choice but to confront everything you left behind.
heavy by @love-chx // smut, fluff, angst
you’ve worked with joaquin a lot over the years, from the military to his career as the falcon, as his physical therapist. as easy as joaquin was as a patient, it was hard. hard because he was such a shameless flirt, hard because he was so charming—but you’ve always been friends and nothing more. after the events of the red hulk, joaquin finds himself having a harder time recovering than usual despite having you by his side. a slip of the tongue leads to a fight that leaves the both of you tense, but all is forgiven when you find yourselves in an attack and confessions come to a head.
Jealousy, Jealousy by @sortagaysortahigh // smut, fluff, angst // enemies-to-lovers, witch!reader
It was as if every single thing you did irritated Joaquin Torres, you didn't even have to say anything to him, your presence alone was enough to tick him off. Don't get him started on your relationship with Peter Parker either.
en español by @geminiwritten // smut, fluff // friends-to-lovers
after joaquín returns from a two-week-long mission things feel different, then he convinces you to go undercover with him where tensions rise—only for him to leaving you wanting more... until he stops by your office for a very intimate spanish lesson
Slim Pickins by @sortagaysortahigh // smut, fluff
Every Friday for the past few months you've been going on shitty dates, and at this rate, you're convinced that you're either ending this life alone or settling for another douchebag. You can't find a genuinely good guy, it's not like there's one right in front of you or something!
Garden by @sortagaysortahigh // smut, angst
Y/n Y/l/n and Joaquin Torres had spent their entire childhood together, but growing up meant growing apart, and when travesty after travesty struck the world, their paths couldn't have been more polarized. But sometimes paths are meant to be crossed again, and there's always a chance for change.
Summary : The only place you seem to tolerate Jake is in the sheets. And he uses it to his advantage when you refuse to get out of bed on a squad vacation.
Pairing : Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Fem!Reader
Disclaimer : English is not my first language so sorry for any grammatical errors that might have escaped my proofreading💞
Words : 4.1k
‼️‼️CONTENT WARNING : rivals with benefits dynamics, smut with a tiny bit of plot, oral sex (fem receiving), MDNI.
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“Y/N ! Come on down or we’re leaving without you !” You heard Javy’s booming voice from the bottom of the stairs travel all the way up to your room.
Groaning, you pulled the covers up to your chin, reveling in the warmth and comfort of your bed.
“Oh my god just leave then !” You screamed back, voice straining a bit from the effort, “that’s all I’m asking actually,” you grumbled to yourself.
A few seconds of silent followed your answer, and genuine hope began blooming in your chest at the prospect of falling back asleep peacefully.
Letting out a satisfied sigh, you buried a bit deeper under the covers, eyelids dropping again, and your mind focused on trying to chase back the fragments of the dream you had been rudely awaken from—
“Bitch get up.”
Natasha opened up your door so violently you almost jumped out of bed.
“Jesus Christ, Nat ! Ever heard of knocking ?” You glared at her, hesitating on throwing one of your pillows her way.
“Come on, get up, we are going.” She declared, standing in your doorway with her arms crossed across her chest.
Not intending to move one bit, you simply put up your elbow, head resting on your palm to look at her better.
“Why do I even have to go anyway ?”
“Because it’s a team bonding activity,” she explained, looking a bit desperate now to get you out of your room, “so we can’t properly bond if we’re missing someone.”
“Are you kidding me ? We already bond eight hours for three hundred days a year ! I think you’ll do just fine without me. And actually, I think it’s better that way, we need to learn how to be independent from each other.”
“You know, seeing you like that really makes me wonder how the hell you manage to get up for early training.”
“If I don’t show up to base I’ll literally go to prison, Nat. And besides, this is the only two weeks of vacation we get, so please,” You whined, “please, let me enjoy it how I see fit. If you guys’ idea of relaxing is going on an eight miles hike at five in the morning out in the snow, suit yourself. My idea of relaxing is getting a little sleep, so what, sue me.”
Before putting in your vacation dates with the base’s administration, Natasha had suggested that you all synchronize them, so that you could go somewhere together.
The idea had seemed exciting enough at the time.
It was Bradley who had suggested to go somewhere cold, to escape, if only for a moment, the grueling heat of California. Everyone had eagerly agreed. Settling on a place in the mountains came as an evidence, you had a privileged access to the beach twenty four seven, and the need to see something else than sand and water could be felt simmering along everyone in the squad.
Bob was the one who had suggested Vermont, of all places, to settle down for a week of vacation. Quickly after that, flights were booked, as well as a beautiful little cabin perched up in the snowy mountains of the state. To find something somehow affordable, you had to settle on a cabin with only three rooms… for all eight of you. Since you all bunked enough on deployment, it was a fight to the death to get to have the only single room.
A fight through a tournament of rock, paper, scissors. One you had won by a landslide, mostly due to your squad mates’ inability to change the pattern in which they played the signs, but you were certainly not complaining. This trip was simply the best, exactly what you had needed to unwind. That was… up until now.
When three days into the trip the squad had decided that you would climb up the mountain near the cabin to go see the sunrise from the summit. A fantastic idea you had thought, until you had realised at what time you’d have to wake up. Which all led to the whole squad, already suited up in puffer jackets and snow boots while you were still cuddled up in bed.
“Actually, we don’t even know if it’ll be eight miles, we haven’t decided which trail we’re gonna use.” Bradley said, coming up behind Natasha to pear at you.
“Thanks for the info, Bradley, there was already no chance I was getting up before but this just sealed it. I mean, what kind of organization is this ? Cyclone would whoop your asses if he were here,” you said before putting on a perfect imitation of your superior, “this is not professional of you, you are naval aviators, top guns graduate, the best of the best, we expect better from you.”
You heard Mickey’s laugh from the hallway before you saw him pop up in your doorway, “I love when you do that.”
Reuben was quick to join, along with Bob and Javy. It was beginning to feel like a mission brief in the entrance of your room.
“Come on, Y/N.” Reuben pleaded, “we’ll have tons of fun and it’s gonna be beautiful up there, plus, you promised last night you’d come.”
You frowned, “did I ?”
“Yes.” All your friends affirmed in unison.
A beat.
“Well obviously that was a lie.” You deadpanned at them before fluffing out your pillow and lying back down, “enjoy the hike, and close the door on your way out, please.”
Before any of them could protest, heavy footsteps echoed in the stairway.
“What the fuck are you all doing, you having a meeting in there ? We’re gonna miss the sunrise.”
The sound of Jake’s drawl made you bury yourself deeper under the covers. This was absolutely not what you needed right now.
“Y/N doesn’t want to come,” Bob replied.
You heard Jake let out a snicker, “of course she doesn’t.“
“Bradley, which trail did you say we’re gonna use again ?” Javy asked.
“Oh I don’t know yet.”
You swear you almost heard the sound of Jake’s head whiplashing to look at Bradley.
“You don’t know ? We’re leaving in thirty minutes tops, how the fuck did you make it in the military with that organization ?”
Barely containing a laugh you suppressed it in your pillow at the last minute.
“Alright,” Jake clapped his hands, obviously about to take control like he, so often, loved to do, “everyone go back downstairs, pack your bags, chicken,” he pointed to Bradley, “choose a damn trail, I’ll be down with sleeping beauty in twenty minutes. Be ready by then.”
If your eyes weren’t scrunched shut you would have seen Bradley putting his middle finger right in Jake’s face, who was only harboring a smirk and even winked at him.
Natasha was squinting dubiously at Jake, “what do you even think you’ll be able to do to make her come that we couldn’t ?”
Jake‘s smirk only widened at Natasha’s choice of words, “oh you know, I have my techniques.”
Your heart skipped a beat and you could feel the hair on your neck stand up.
“Alright everyone get out now,” Jake practically pushed them out when they only stared at him dubiously, “and I mean it,” he called out as they were going down the stairs, “I want everyone in front of the door and ready to leave in twenty minutes !”
The sound of the door closing made your heart race in your chest and each step that Jake took towards your bed wasn’t helping.
You felt the mattress dip slightly where he sat next to your lying body and you forced yourself to sound as exasperated and firm as possible, “get out.”
Jake’s hand reached out on your cover covered waist, rubbing lightly. And the simple weight of it, even through thick layers, was enough to have you flush under the cover.
“You don’t mean that,” he almost cooed.
Finally looking up at Jake, the sight of him made you pause for a second, the harsh retort you had ready and loaded dying on your tongue.
If there was one thing you’d reproach to this beautiful cabin, it would be was the lack of effective blinds in your room. The only thing supposedly holding off the light from drowning your room in unwanted sunlight in the morning was a very, very thin beige curtain, which was approximately as useful as Jake when it came to being a supportive wingman in dogfight training.
But that’s not something you were going to complain about now, not when it was letting the moonlight grace Jake’s features in a way that made him look so angelic, making his green eyes full of mischief pop out even more than usual.
Fuck, was he hot.
“I do mean it,” was the only thing you were able to say, tone very much not conveying the authority you had meant it to.
Humming, his gaze quickly flicked to your lips before returning to your eyes, the small smile never leaving his lips, and you wished you could say that your stomach flipped out of repulsion and not… something else entirely.
A beat of silence passed then and it was enough to almost make you squirm under his prying gaze.
“If I eat you out, do you promise to get up ?”
Your eyes almost bulged out of your eyes.
“What ?!”
Jake let out a chuckle at your outburst, “oh please, don’t be so shocked, I thought we were past that now.”
He seemed to be, but you sure weren’t.
It was no secret that you and Jake didn’t always get along, it was basically public knowledge, even the higher ups knew it. To be fair, it was pretty hard to miss when the both of you would engage in your weekly screaming match in the middle of the tarmac.
He just seemed to have a special talent to drive you up the wall, he made you so angry it was sometimes hard to deal with the fury burning up in your stomach. Natasha liked to joke that this whole rivalry and hating game between the two would disappear with a simple, good heated hook up, to blow off the steam between the two of you.
And in a way, she had been right. Except that you hadn’t stop at one.
You wouldn’t even be able to explain how it happened the first time, it was kind of a blur. All you could remember was really how fucking good it was, and how much you hated that it had been. The regret after had been almost soul crushing… But, on second thought, it must hadn’t been that bad because it didn’t stop from you from doing it again, and again… and again.
Jake was like an addiction, no matter how much you wanted to quit him, he made it impossible to.
And after a while, you just accepted it, stopped beating up yourself for it. He made you feel fine, good, great.
Fuck that, he made you feel things you didn’t even know you were capable of feeling.
After that it had become an implicit agreement that since the only place you seemed to cooperate in was the bedroom, why not just enjoy it ?
And you did consummate your arrangement pretty regularly, so you guessed it was hypocritical for you to act so offended by Jake’s proposition. But if you had accepted the situation as it was, it didn’t stop you from putting up a bit of a fight from time to time, if only to hold on to some of your dignity.
Getting over your initial shock, his casualness over all this still unsettled you a little, but you guessed it was to be expected for a guy like Jake. You wondered if there was anything in this world that he considered to be a big deal.
Now that you were sitting up, his hand had gone down to your calf, gently rubbing it over the covers.
“So, what do you say ?” He inquired, voice having naturally dropped an octave.
A shiver ran through your spine at his tone and you just prayed to God it wasn’t visible. If you were honest with yourself, wetness had began pooling in your pajama pants as soon as he had closed the door behind him.
Feeling your cheeks heat up you averted your eyes from his for a second, if only to get a breather from his intense jade eyes.
“Twenty minutes to make me cum is a bit of a long time, don’t you think ?” You provoked, voice coming out a bit breathier than you intended, “thought you were better than that.”
When your eyes flicked back to him, his smirk had gone from cocky to downright predatory. Jake leaned in, catching your lips in a strangely sweet kiss given the situation. The way his lips moved against yours was enough to send butterflies in your stomach swarming around endlessly. And you almost chased him when he pulled apart, his lips made a descent down your neck. Leaving open mouthed kiss on the thin skin, the heat coming from his mouth made your thighs squeeze together. God, it was almost embarrassing how easy you were for him.
“You know I only need five,” he whispered into your neck, his tongue darting out to lick a stripe of skin up to your jaw, “the other fifteen minutes are for you to get ready.”
Taking a deep breath, you desperately tried to not sound like you were already on the edge of begging, “you better get to it then.”
You watched with a racing heart as Jake made his way down your body, keeping his intense stare right on you. He lifted the covers, revealing your lower body and gently stripped down your pajama pants. Feeling a deep flush rush to your face at witnessing Jake’s pupils dilate so much upon landing on your already glistening folds, you almost closed off your legs.
No matter how much time you did this with him, it always felt a bit embarrassing at first, at least for you. Jake didn’t seem to mind one bit. He never did.
An appreciative sound resonated low in his throat, “you’re already dripping, sweetheart,” he said, and the sheer tone of his voice was enough to make you clench around nothing, “was this your intention all along, act all stubborn so I would come in here and eat your pretty little pussy to give you some motivation ?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” you tried to scoff but it turned into a gasp when Jake placed a kiss right on top of your clit, “I was having a great dream before you all came barging in here, bugging me about some stupid hike.”
He raised a brow, staring up at you, “a dream, huh ? Was I in it ?” He asked in a grin.
“No.”
Yes, and he was very much doing what he was about to do now.
He only hummed in a smirk, his eyes returning to the task at hand. He lapped up a big stripe from your hole up to the very top of your clit, his thumbs were keeping you open for him, allowing his tongue to explore every surface of your arousal swollen pussy.
“Fuck, you taste like heaven right now,” he groaned right against your entrance, tongue dipping in slightly, making you moan loudly and immediately slap a hand over your mouth.
Jake only chuckled soflty, quickly returning to lap up and kiss at your clit. Your hips had instinctively began to grind into his mouth. Your eyes nearly rolled all the way back to your head when his tongue began flicking the underside of your clit, and you had to bite your hand to muffle the desperate whine piling up in your throat.
“Jake, fuck—“ you choked on a moan when he did it again, “right there, stay right here— oh my god,” your hands flew to his blonde hair, intent on keeping him right where he was.
“I know,” he cooed against your twitching bundle of nerves, “you have such a sensitive clit, baby,” he gave it a gentle suck, making your hips buck right into him, “can feel it twitching in my mouth.”
Letting out a drawn out moan at his actions and words, you pulled on his hair slightly, “don’t be— ah fuck, don’t be weird.”
“That’s not a very smart move,” he commented, looking up from your glistening folds, a smirk pulling at his lips when he noticed the frown of your brows, confusion slipping through the pleasure, “there’s no use in lying, darlin’. Your sweet pussy is more honest than you are, I can feel you clenching around nothing.”
And as if your own body decided to betray you, your core desperately clenched again at his words. Whining, you tried to close your legs around his head out of embarrassment.
But Jake’s hold on your thighs kept them firmly opened up for him, “huh huh, none of that.” He warned, his teeth playfully grazing the hood of your clit, making you yelp.
“What do you even get out of this ?” You asked in a quick breath, prompted up on your elbows and forcing your eyes to stay open and focused on him.
His tongue stopped the kitten kicks it was inflicting on your clit for a second, he looked up at you, something like indignation flashing in his eyes.
“That’s a stupid question and you know it,” he remarked, collecting the slick that had accumulated between your inner lips, “I get to worship this gorgeous pussy of yours, taste you… fuck look at her, she’s dripping for me.” He watched, almost mesmerized as a string of slick was slowly getting pushed out of your cunt, and you wished you could pretend that the way he was referring to your pussy as if it were a whole person wasn’t making pleasure flash hot in your lower stomach, “already swollen from just a few licks,” Jake marveled, “doesn’t take you much, huh, sweetheart ?”
Your head had long since thrown back against your pillow, a mix of wanton moans and whines were interjecting your labored breaths. The effort to try and be quiet long forgotten.
“Stop— Ngh, shit, stop narrating everything.”
Jake’s tongue circled your clit, as if grazing every single nerve of the sensitive pearl with his mouth.
“Why would I ? She clearly loves it,” he pointed out, voice heavy with lust as his thumbs opened you up more, watching with an obvious hunger the way your inner walls were fluttering around nothing.
Growing closer and closer to your high, you started to become more and more desperate, legs shaking and squirming in Jake’s hold.
“Jake, just—“ a moan interrupted you when he licked into your hole, “ah— just make me cum.”
Looking up you, he stopped everything, his lips left your puffy folds to stretch out into a smirk.
When he made absolutely no move to dive back into your burning core, you let out a pathetic whine, hips instinctually bucking into his face.
“Jake…” you groaned, frustration bubbling low in your stomach alongside the remains of the pleasure he was providing you only seconds before.
“Come on,” he coaxed, voice husky, almost purring, “we both know you can beg better than that.”
You would never be caught admitting this out loud but the way he spoke to you was enough to build you back up towards the edge.
“Looks like she knows it too,” he hummed low in his throat, appreciatively eyeing your pussy pushing out another string of slick arousal.
Moaning out of sheer desperation and frustration, you swallowed back your pride. The need to cum was making the urge to fight him at every turn slowly dissolve, overtaken by the overwhelming desire to feel him on you.
“Jake,” you whined, looking down at him between your legs, a deep flush taking over your neck and face, “could you make me cum, please ? I… I need it really, really bad, please make me feel good ?”
“Good girl,” he praised, his hands affectionately rubbing your inner thighs, “so sweet for me…” Jake immediately went back to suck on your twitching bud.
Feeling the white, hot pleasure spark again in your lower stomach made you arch and cry out in bliss.
“Shh, I know, baby, I know.” Jake shushed you softly, “try to quiet down a bit for me, mmh ? I’m gonna take good care of you, but just try not to alert the whole squad, okay ?”
Nodding quickly, you put up your hand over your mouth, trying to conceal every one of the desperate noise that were translating just how much Jake was unraveling you with simply his mouth.
“I know just what you need, sweetheart…” he whispered into your cunt.
His hands snaked their way up your body, slipping under your shirt. And through the hazy fog taking your brain hostage, an understanding of his plan shined through, and the prospect alone made you clench. With a shaky and almost frenetic hand, you pulled up the hem of your shirt, exposing your breasts to the slightly cold air of the room. Your nipples were already erect and perky, practically begging for Jake’s attention. And he wasted no time to indulge them.
“Jake— Jake, fuck… that feels amazing,” you moaned out when his big hands cupped your breast, squeezing them passionately.
The groan he let out sent delicious vibrations in your clit. It was like every little thing he did was purposely meant to make you lose your mind, and you didn’t know if you loved or hated the fact that he knew your body so well, knew you so well, that he was able to unravel you in just a few minutes.
“I know, you feel amazing too, sweetheart, feel fucking perfect.”
Jake’s fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, occasionally rubbing the perked up nubs, all the while his tongue never stopped its sweet torture. Flicking your clit, sucking on it, licking between your outer and inner lips, lapping up at your weeping hole…
Your moans were freely echoing in the room now, along with the lewd sound of Jake slurping you up. Growing more restless as you could feel the rubber band in your lower belly threatening to snap at any moment, your hips were squirming against his mouth, and from an external point of view it wasn’t very clear if you were chasing him or trying to get away from him. Feeling your frenetic desperation, Jake was quick to reassure you.
“Relax, baby,” he soothed, “focus on me, okay ? Just let yourself feel it, let go sweet girl…”
And all it took after that was a very gentle suck on your swollen clit for the coil in your lower belly to finally snap. A cry left your mouth as white hot pleasure locked your body into place. The hold you had in Jake’s hair tightened as your legs closed around his head, your chest rising in quick breaths as your pussy fluttered sporadically around nothing.
“That’s it, baby, just like that, make a mess… Jesus, look at you.” He groaned, almost reverently while staring at your convulsing form.
After the peak of your orgasm faded, fatigue seeped into your bones as you tried to catch your breath, and the way Jake’s hands were raking all over your satisfied body was not helping.
“You did so well, sweetheart. Shit, I wished we had time to fuck.”
“We could, we could just stay here,” you immediately said, the idea of staying in bed while Jake thoroughly took care of your body was much more appealing than going on that stupid hike, “we’ll find an excuse.”
“Sorry,” he grimaced, not apologetic at all, “we made a deal, remember ?”
You pouted, “you’re no fun.”
He chuckled, all warm and affectionate and you were scared to admit it maybe made your stomach flipped harder than when he was avidly lapping you up just seconds before. His hand came up to cup your cheek, he leaned and left the most gentle of kisses on your cheek.
“I did also wanted you to come on the hike, that’s the second thing I get out of this. The sunrise is gonna be beautiful, don’t want you to miss it.”
That stunned you for a moment, but Jake didn’t give you the time to answer.
“How about I properly take care of you when we come back, hm ?”
Your heart did something weird in your chest, and all you could do was nod.
“Yeah,” your voice came out way too breathy for your liking, you cleared your throat, “yeah, let’s do that.”
Jake smiled brightly at you, stealing one last kiss, smearing a bit of your own arousal on your lips in the process.
“Alright, get your pretty little ass up darlin’ and get ready.”
When you finally came downstairs after the exact twenty minutes that Jake had announced, the whole squad was by the door, all eyeing you with a weird mix of disgust and fascination.
But it was Natasha who spoke up first.
“Oh you two are fucking disgusting !”
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Author’s note : unfortunately I need him so bad.
This has been on my mind for a long time, I’m weak for the rivals with benefits dynamic, I hope you liked it !💞
Also, will I one day be able to write something that’s straight to the point without 1k words of useless squad banter ? No, I don’t think I will.
Summary : Despite how much he irritates you, when Jake loses his father’s watch, you go to the moon and back to bring it back to him.
Pairing : Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Fem!Reader
Important info : Your call sign is Lightning ⚡️ :)
Disclaimer : English is not my first language so sorry for any grammatical errors that might have escaped my proofreading !💞
Word count : 5.5k
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“Lightning watch out !”
You barely had time to register that Javy was screaming your call sign before a ball came crushing down next to you, sending sand flying everywhere on your opened book and sticky, lathered in sunscreen, skin.
Beautiful colors of pink and violet were painting the sky, the sun beginning his descent towards the western aerosphere. It had shined brightly throughout the entirety of the squad’s monthly beach day, bathing your skin in warmth and golden light.
“For fuck’s sake, Javy ! You guys can shoot down a target from two hundred feet while flying at Mach one but you can’t aim a volleyball for shit !” You snapped, dusting the thousands of grains of sands from your book and towel.
Next to you Natasha was hiding a laugh behind her own book.
Pointing a finger at her, you warned, “don’t you dare laugh at me, Nat.” You got up to brush off more sand off your legs, “that’s why I hate going to the beach with them, there’s nothing less relaxing on this earth,” you mumbled out, a frown making the lines on your forehead prominent.
“My bad, Lightning !” Jake called out, his hands around his mouth to amplify the sound, though his tone was very much not apologetic, and the smirk stretching his lips only fueled the irritation simmering under your skin.
Glaring at him, you debated for a second on yelling back a piece of your mind, indulge into this game he seemed to initiate anytime he could. Riling you up, provoking you and then simply grinning like an idiot when you eventually ended up taking the bait.
But for once, you decided to be the bigger person. So you settled on raising your middle finger high enough that he could very much identify what lovely sign you were throwing his way.
“I love you too, darlin’ !” He yelled back.
You rolled your eyes so hard you feared for a moment that they’d get permanently stuck.
“Careful, you’re blushing,” Natasha snickered, still lying next to you.
Scoffing you flipped her off as well, “which side are you on ?”
“The side of love, darlin’.” She smiled in a perfect imitation of Jake’s Texan drawl.
You couldn’t have contained the laugh that broke out of you even if you tried, “shit, you actually sound just like him.”
“I know,” she cooed, obviously proud of her trick, “is it turning you on ?” She inquired, wiggling her eyebrows at you.
A shocked laugh escaped you, “Geez Nat—“
“OH MY GOD WHAT TIME IS IT ?” Javy’s sudden gasp made you both jump as he came running towards you, where all of the squad’s stuff was and he started abruptly digging through his bag.
“It’s seven.” Bob supplied after a quick look to his watch.
“I was supposed to meet my mom for dinner fifteen minutes ago,” he explained, panicked as he was hastily grabbing all his stuff and throwing it carelessly in his bag. “Jake, can you drive me ?”
Usually, you carpooled to avoid bringing everyone’s car and having to park too far away if the beach was busy that day.
“Let me think about it…” Jake walked over, deliberately slow, pretending to think it over.
Javy groaned, not in the mood to entertain his friend’s antics, “come on, man.”
Jake sped up a bit, raising his arms in mock defense, “alright, alright, don’t throw a fit mama’s boy. I’ll drive you.”
As he was gathering his own stuff, you suddenly saw him frown, and then frantically look around. Lifting his towel, emptying his bag only to pack it again, passing his hands in the sand in visible hope of stumbling upon something…
You were about to throw in a witty remark when you noticed something missing on his wrist.
His watch.
His father’s watch.
In its place was now a tanning line. A ribbon of whiter skin surrounded by his Californian and natural Texan tan.
It didn’t take a genius, nor being Jake’s best friend to know how precious that watch was to him, or to guess that it might have been one of the last few things left from his dad.
He wore it at all times. There weren’t much occasion you had seen him without it ever since you’d met him. It had stayed securely around his wrist all throughout Naval Academy, and then had stayed through every one of his deployment until he got permanently assigned in San Diego. During every flight, every mission, every exam even, every casual outing… You could always see the watch rest proudly on his cuff. Perhaps it was the only thing about him Jake didn’t feel the need to flex, a quiet legacy he carried around with him, feeling the weight of it in his every move, every decision.
The only times he ever took it off was during underwater training and at the beach if he went for a swim. Surely a watch like that was waterproof and even capable of descending a few feet deep, but the fact that Jake was unwilling to bring it with him in an environment it was specifically designed to survive in, was only another proof of its value to him.
He never talked about it. Never ever voiced the words ‘my dad’ out loud, but everyone knew. You knew.
Javy was ready to go, packed bag at his feet as he hastily threw in a t-shirt over his head, “Jake ? Are you good to go ?”
Jake froze for a moment. It was rare to see him display anything other than sheer haughtiness. And it weirdly tugged at your heartstrings to see him look so lost for an instant.
You were about to help him look for his watch — sure you hated him, but that didn’t mean you didn’t feel empathy for him losing something so precious to him, when—
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” He said a bit absentmindedly, his eyes still frantically looking around as he stuffed, slightly violently, all his stuff in his backpack.
He quickly got up, threw the bag over his shoulder as Javy was waving everyone goodbye and starting to make a run for Jake’s truck.
You watched Jake with a shock you hoped wasn’t too visible. Yes, he was the emotionally constipated type, never one to speak about feelings or do so much as even mention or acknowledge them, but surely when he was about to lose, perhaps forever, the one thing that probably meant more to him than the whole world, he would say something, express himself, let it out.
And you knew that if he’d speak up right now, the whole squad would stop everything and help him look for it. Javy would run right back on the warm sand and rampage through the entire beach if he had to.
Surely, he had to know that the squad wouldn’t see him as weak over getting a little panicked upon losing the one item he held so dearly in his heart ?
But you watched, stunned, and for some reason with a weight pressing down on your chest, as Jake looked one last time at the beach, eyes boring into the sand as if the distance would give him some perspective and help him spot the watch in a nanosecond.
“See you on Monday,” he threw to everyone over his shoulder, soundly halfhearted as he turned around and began to walk towards his truck, joining Javy.
The image stuck with you for some reason. it was like seeing him willingly abandon a piece of himself behind, and for what ? Just so he could hold on to his ‘feelings make you weak’ Hangman persona ?
If you had been closer to him, and in any place at all to call him out on this, you would have screamed at him. Yanked him back by the collar and prohibited anyone to leave this beach until the watch wasn’t back on its rightful place, on Jake’s wrist.
“I think I’m gonna head out as well,” Reuben spoke up, “does anyone want me to drop them home ?”
“Me please,” cheered Mickey, dusting some sands off his chest.
“Yes, please. Thanks Reuben,” Bob smiled, gathering his things.
“I’ll ride with Y/N, we’re gonna head back as well, right ?” Natasha turned to you.
If you had been able to say anything other than insults and provocative remarks, you would have reassured him.
If you had been able to consider yourself his friend, you would have helped him look for it.
“Y/N ?”
But you were capable of none nor were you any of those things.
And still—
“Actually I’m gonna stay a bit longer,” you blurted out without really thinking about it.
“You sure ?” Natasha questioned, skeptical.
“Yeah, the sunset is beautiful, it’s still warm and my book is getting really good, I’ll stay for a bit.” You assured, as if trying to convince yourself more than Natasha.
“Alright,” she conceded, still eyeing you a bit suspiciously, “be careful, you text me when you get home and don’t forget that Penny’s right next door if you have any problem,” she pointed to the Hard Deck which was facing the beach.
“Yes mom,” you chuckled as she playfully rolled her eyes at you.
As Reuben’s car drove away, you stood there for a moment. Watching the waves crash on the beach, the soothing sound of it blending with the distant echo of music coming from the Hard Deck. This beach wasn’t an especially popular one, and you marveled for a second at being the only person standing there.
Why had you stayed ?
You kinda had blurted it out without any real thoughts of what you would actually do once left alone.
Because you hadn’t stayed for the sunset or your book, in fact, the book was getting a bit boring if you were honest.
Jake’s expression when being met with the realization he’d lost his watch suddenly flashed into your mind and it made your heart clench. And perhaps it was what prompted you to start digging in the sand where his towel had previously been lying.
“I can’t believe I’m fucking doing this,” you muttered to yourself while rummaging through the sand, the watch couldn’t be far… right ?
You didn’t even notice when the warm light of the sunset got subsided by the sharp, white one of the moon.
The spot where the squad had previously established its camp was empty. You didn’t find anything apart from a few seashells and a colony of small crabs that you had probably woken up from their slumber.
You probably should have gone home. The watch obviously wasn’t there. But then your gaze drifted out towards the ocean… the guys usually played volleyball closer to the water, perhaps Jake had lost the watch around there ?
The cold breeze coming from the ocean had started to pick up as you searched the grounds of what was previously the volleyball court.
And when you didn’t find anything there, you moved on to other parts of the beach, trying to remember and retrace the entirety of Jake’s steps during the day. Your knees were aching from being constantly on them, hands pruned from the wet sand you’d been digging up, nails completely darkened by the grains. Your phone was slowly dying, using all its battery to shine inside the holes you were digging up, desperate to see a flash of silver. And it was cold, so, so cold. The wind was getting stronger, making you clutch your hoodie tighter around yourself.
The moon had well settled into the sky now, an indicator of just how much time you’d spent there.
You had wanted to give up, oh so many times. But everytime you had wanted to get up and leave, an image of Jake’s face would flash back into your mind. The way he had looked back at the beach, like he was saying goodbye to his dad a second time. And every time, without fail, your brain had conjured images of him getting home, and calling his mom back in Texas, telling her about how he had lost the watch and the image was just too painful for you, enough to bring unwanted and in your opinion, unjustified, tears to your eyes if you thought about it too much.
Anyone could have argued you were being overly dramatic over a guy who you proclaimed your hatred towards from the rooftops. And you would have agreed. But you wouldn’t leave this beach until the watch was secured in your hands.
You were on your hands and knees, near shore where the water was gently lapping up at the sand, bringing new things and taking away some when—
“Y/N ! Is that you ?”
Penny’s voice from the front of the beach made you jumped.
“Jesus Christ, Penny !” You exclaimed, a hand over your racing heart, “you scared the shit out of me !”
Jogging up lightly to meet her, you saw her frown when she took in the state of you, her worried face illuminated by the Hard Deck’s sign.
“What are you doing out there, sweetheart ?” She asked softly, and you could perceive the same tone in her voice she’d use with Amelia sometimes, no doubt that her maternal instinct were kicking in, seeing you all alone, covered in sand and digging up holes in the dark.
“Oh I was— I lost my bracelet earlier, you know we had our beach day with the squad ? Yeah, so the bracelet means a lot to me and I— I couldn’t leave without it.”
You pestered Jake for being emotionally constipated but you couldn’t even admit to Penny, of all people, sweetest woman alive who’d never judge you, that you were doing this solely for him.
“I see,” she said, an empathetic smile pulling at her lips, “I’ll help you.”
“No don’t worry Penny, it’s alright, promise. I’m all good.”
Was there a sick part of you that wanted to be the one to find Jake’s watch ? Maybe, you would deny all of it thought.
“At least I’ll wait for you, I just closed the bar.”
“Don’t worry,” you repeated with the sweetest smile you could mutter out at the moment, “I won’t stay much longer anyway.”
“You sure ?”
“I am, thank you though that’s really nice of you.”
“Could you at least activate your location please ? And also text me when you get home, okay ?”
Saluting her you let out a chuckle, “I will, Penny. Promise.”
“Alright.” She conceded, bregrundly.
She knew this beach was safe, otherwise she would have never left you alone. You parted with a warm hug and watched her drive away, similar to how you’d watched your friends leave a few hours ago now… God, had it been really that much time ?
You were beginning to lose hope, Jake’s watch seemed to have truly vanished, and you tried to ignore the heavy feeling sitting on your chest that came along with this conclusion. Telling yourself to check towards the west side of the beach before leaving, though you knew it was useless, you couldn’t really recall Jake going there, you still crouched, and began to dig, again…
Phone flash blasting in the dark, the light reflected on something then…. Silver !
“Oh my god !”
You rubbed your eyes to make sure the sight in front of you was real and not the fatigue making you hallucinate. But it was real, the small silver circle was still there.
“Oh my god !” You exclaimed again in a laugh, immediately digging in.
And sure enough, the watch was there. Covered in sand, but there. You carefully inspected it for damage, but other than the general dirt, it seemed fine.
Turning the watch over, your eyes caught something. The initials of who you could only guess was his father were delicately engraved in the metal, G.S. Before you could even think about it, your thumb passed, almost tenderly over the gravure.
A small, disbelieving laugh escaped you again, and it was incredibly chocked up. You didn’t even notice you’d been tearing up until you felt something wet roll down your cheeks.
Quickly you wiped the tears off, a feeling of embarrassment creeping up your neck even though you were the sole person standing on this beach, moonlight illuminating your figure.
Forcing your emotions to settle down, it was only a watch for Christ’s Sake, you practically ran all the way back to your car. It felt as if your whole body was buzzing, and you couldn’t explain this weird feeling of excitement and… was it fulfillment ?
A genuine giddiness was coursing through your veins as you drove home, you couldn’t wait for Jake to have his watch again. See him settle, knowing his father’s legacy was in him, like it’s always been and always would be, but the physical representation of it, back on his wrist. The comforting weight of it bringing meaning to every one of his moves.
The excitement kept you awake once you were home, so you took the time to carefully clean the watch. You physically couldn’t give it back to him like that. And soon enough, once you were sure that there was not even the tiniest grain of sand left in any notches, only then, did sleep finally caught up to you.
The sun wasn’t even up yet when you made your way to base the next morning. You had decided that you would just leave the watch in his locker, he didn’t need to know who found it, and maybe he wouldn’t be too happy to see you holding his father’s watch, considering you hated each other…. Right ? At least that’s what you told yourself.
Arriving in front of his locker, you opened his numbered lock, honestly who was stupid enough to put in their birthday as a password ?
But then, anyone could argue that it was weird you knew his birthday, as someone who hated him so much.
Refusing to give this any more thought, you neatly placed the watch in his locker, on a little rag. You made sure one last time that it was perfectly clean, made sure it was not askew, made the sure the rag wasn’t wrinkled…. And for a moment it felt as if you were stalling.
“My god, I need to get a grip,” you mumbled to yourself, finally closing the locker door, a bit more forcefully than you had intended.
“I’m telling you, my mom is obsessed with getting me in a relationship !” Javy complained to Jake on their way to the locker room, “last night she just kept showing me pictures of her friends’ daughters and being like ‘you two would make an adorable couple’ like, oh my god, can’t a man go at his own pace ?”
Jake only hummed, not exactly in the mood to discuss Javy’s mom self proclaimed matrimonial agency.
Each of his step was heavy. Heavy with the lack of sleep and the mass pressing down on his chest. The missing weight on his wrist made him feel strangely stripped bare, like a piece of himself was missing, left where he had abandoned it on the beach the night before.
When Jake had gotten home after dropping Javy off, he had cursed himself. He couldn’t believe he had actually walked away, without even taking the time to look for the watch, no he had just left.
He had to refrain back tears when his mom had called him that night, asking him about his day, and he hadn’t had the courage to tell her what had happened, consumed by sorrow and shame. He felt pathetic. He spent that entire night sulking, thinking about how ashamed his father would be if he saw him like that. It felt like letting him down.
“Like she doesn’t get that I don’t want to settle down, I mean not yet anyway—“
“Yeah, tell her you want to keep bringing girls home from the Hard Deck every weekend for a little while longer, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear it.” Jake finally answered Javy’s rant, trying to give his remark its usual wit.
“You fucking jerk, you’re supposed to be on my side !” Javy whined, opening up his locker.
Jake was abort to retort something but the words died on the tip of his tongue when he opened his own locker.
He froze.
He was met with his watch. Neatly placed on a small rag, looking as new as the day he had received it from his dad, just a few days before losing his battle against cancer.
His heart skipped a beat in his chest. How ?
Jake stayed there for what felt like an eternity to him, but was only a few mere seconds, just staring at the watch. He could faintly hear Javy next to him still talking, now rambling about how his mother compared him to his cousin or whatever, but the sound of his voice was drawn out, an echo in Jake’s ears.
With shaky hands, he gently grabbed the watch and immediately turned it over, eyes fixed on his father’s initials that he traced with a tender pass of his thumb, and his heart clenched, suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of emotion.
He had no idea how the watch had gotten there, and perhaps it should have worried him a bit more — whoever this was had cracked the impossible code of his locker for Goodness’s sake ! — but he chose to pay it no mind.
Now Jake wasn’t superstitious or a believer of any kind, far from it, actually. But in this moment, he chose to believe that whatever, whoever had found his watch and brought it back to him, had somehow been missioned by his father, who had probably been very upset about his son being so careless with the precious time teller.
Jake knew it was stupid, truly. His father, from the beyond, somehow orchestrating a whole plan to find the watch left on the beach and leave it in his locker on base, was a stupid theory. But the thought of it made a warmth spread out in his chest and his eyes sting slightly. So he decided that for once, he would let himself believe in a little stupidity.
This weird mix of euphoria and serenity hadn’t left him the entire week. He felt good, more confident now that the watch was back on his wrist. And he would sometimes just stare at it for a few moments, in amazement and incredible gratefulness for having been given a second chance, that’s how he saw it. And he would honor his father in every action he took while securely wearing the watch.
He had found a new vigor, a new desire to win, one that made him better, he thought. Though the squad would probably argue it just made him more insufferable.
So that’s with a pumped up step that Jake walked into the Hard Deck that week end, closely followed by everyone.
“Alright, what do you guys want ?” He cheered, still in an exceptionally good mood.
The squad all gave him their orders before going to find some seats, you merely grumbled a ‘nothing that comes from you’ and somehow, Jake understood it meant a virgin mojito.
He made his way to the bar, patiently waiting for Penny to finish off her conversation with a customer.
“Hey, sailor !” She greeted with a smile when she saw him, “what can I get you and the squad ?”
After he told her, she started to prepare the drinks on front of him, making small talk, asking about training, how life was on base when—
“Oh by the way,” she seemed to remember, momentarily stopping the making of your virgin mojito to look at Jake, “do you know if Y/N found her bracelet ?”
Jake frowned, confused.
“Um, I don’t know. I didn’t know she had lost a bracelet,” he said, head turning slightly to look for you in the crowd and he suddenly frowned more, looking back at Penny, “in fact, I didn’t even know she wore bracelets, her wrists are usually bare.”
“Oh, because I saw her last week, after your guy’s beach day. I closed the bar a little earlier than usual because it was pretty quiet, and she was there, digging in the sand, looking for her bracelet. I proposed to help her but she said she was fine. It was quite late though, so it really must have mean a lot to her, that’s why I was wondering if she’d found it. But I’ll ask her myself later then, thanks Jake.”
Penny’s words had the effect of a sledgehammer hitting Jake right in the chest. The realisation dawned on him and he froze for a moment, not sure what to do with the newfound piece of information.
“You okay ?” Penny asked him, his shock seemingly visible on his features.
Her voice got him out of his trance.
“Yeah, yeah I’m good, thank you for the drinks Penny, talk to you later !”
He made a beeline for the spot the squad had settled in, their usual one, next to one the pool tables. He absentmindedly handed the drinks to everyone, keeping your virgin mojito in his hands and making his way over to you. His heart was beating so hard in his chest that it was borderline painful. It seemed as though his vision had zeroed in on you, only you. Images of you on the beach at night, cold, alone, tired but still looking for his watch flashed into his mind and he felt a knot get caught up in his throat.
He barely heard the ‘thank you’s’ the squad threw him.
Leaning over some of the high tables near the windows, you were watching Mickey, Reuben and Bob engage in a heated game of pool.
“No Mickey it’s still my turn,” you watched with a smile as Reuben interjected his friend, “you sinked the cue ball so I get to shoot twice, gosh you’d think that you’d know the rules after playing literally every week end !”
You snorted, amused by their banter. And out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jake walking towards you. Expression unreadable but his step visibly determined.
Arriving in front of you, he practically shoved the drink in your hand.
“I told you I didn’t want anything,” you said, monotonously, nonetheless still grabbing the glass.
Any excuse was good enough to start a fight with him.
You turned your gaze back to the pool game unfolding in front of you, but when the quick wit you were expecting from him never came, you turned back to him, frowning.
His jade green eyes were trained on you. Chest rising up quickly, like he’d ran a marathon before coming here. You didn’t think you had ever seen him so… moved.
“You good ?” You asked, letting your tone convey the tiniest bit of concern.
Jake took a shaky breath, “why didn’t you tell me ?”
The hand that was bringing the glass to your lips froze halfway through.
“Tell you what ?”
“My watch.” Was all he said, eyes still boring into yours, seemingly looking for answers you were absolutely not intent on giving.
Your eyes quickly flicked to the leather band sitting proudly on his wrist.
You had noticed it all week, how it was right back on shining on his cuff. How Jake had seemed to smile even more cockily than before, brighter. And you hadn’t been able to ignore the weird, warmth feeling spreading in your chest every-time you had caught him eyeing his wrist with a flash of pride and cherish.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, forcing yourself to keep an annoyed tone as your eyes flicked back up to meet his.
“There’s no use in lying, I know it was you.” He said, voice firm and steady despite the whirlwind of emotions threatening to choke him up, “why ?”
You weren’t known to give up that easily.
“Jesus Seresin, I literally told you I have no idea what you’re talking about, go win at darts or something, leave me alone.”
Swallowing uncomfortably under his prying gaze, you silenced the tiny voice in your head that was telling you just how much similar to Jake you were in terms of showing feelings.
Facing your stubborn resolve in not telling him the truth, Jake let out a small, humorless laugh, “Y/N I just want to thank you properly, so please, for once, just let up.”
Let up. Stop fighting me for a second, was really what he was saying. And looking at him be willing to be honest and open for once did something to you.
“I did it because you looked all pathetic, okay ? And really, I didn’t want you sulking all day on base and mess up every training.” you finally conceded, tone annoyed despite the loud thumping of your heart in your chest, “besides it was just underneath where you had put down your towel, so really you could’ve found it if you had put a bit more effort into it. But I guess that it’s just another thing I’m better at than you, huh ?”
It was a complete lie. And both of you knew it.
Just the fact that you had been the only one to notice he had lost his watch told him everything he needed to know. And he knew from Penny that you had stayed well past midnight looking for it. To see you in front of him, knowing the length you had been to for him — despite what you were saying — made his heart do something inexplicable.
And Jake moved before he could think any more about it. He slightly bent down to wrap his arms around you, slipping under your own and hugging your middle, bringing you into his chest, chin resting on your shoulder, head touching yours.
All your muscles stiffened on instinct. The contact took you by surprise and you stayed frozen like that for a second, letting him hold you without reciprocating the touch.
He was warm, very warm. His arms were tightly wrapped around you, one draped across your shoulder blades and the other one across your waist. His body was firm against yours and for a moment, you almost thought you could feel the thumping of his heart against your chest. Your head was resting just shy of the crook of his neck, on his shoulder, and despite yourself, you caught a whiff of his smell, residue of jet fuel, his expensive cologne, the warmth of his skin and something so undeniably him it almost made your head spin.
“Thank you,” he whispered shakily, a small crack in his Hangman armor.
Those words and his tone felt like a detonator, hearing him sounding so small almost broke your heart. It only took a second after that for your arms to wrap around his neck. And as soon as your arms made contact, you felt his whole body relax and melt into you.
“You don’t have to thank me,” you whispered back, rubbing his back comfortingly.
He seemed so small in this moment and it pulled at your heartstrings to know he was letting you be the one to seem him like that.
“You don’t know how much this means to me.” He murmured into your neck.
Oh, but you did. That was the whole reason you had done it.
It seemed as thought the entire bar had gone quiet, leaving only Jake and you, wrapped up in each other. You had no idea how long you stayed like that. But you certainly weren’t complaining, your arms tightening around him was met with the same intensity from Jake.
But the sudden sharp sound of a glass hitting the floor and shattering in pieces took you both out of the peaceful and comfort trance the embrace had took you both in. And you both found yourselves pulling away, reluctantly.
You noticed the slight pink hue dusting Jake’s cheeks, and his green eyes were bright, almost glassed over, shining with unshed tears.
God knew that if you had the courage you would take him into another embrace right here and then, and not let him go until the first rays of sunshine peaked through the windows, or realistically, probably until Penny kicked you out.
But unable to succumb to your deepest desire, no matter how much you wanted to, you instead fell back into your old ways.
“Try not to lose it again, cause I won’t get it for you next time.” You warned, though your tone was missing its usual bite.
You would.
You would do it all over a hundred times if needed.
Jake let out a laugh, a bit choked up, but a genuine one nonetheless.
“I promise.” He said in a smile as bright as a thousand suns.
And you had a scary realization then.
That in fact, there was not a lot you wouldn’t do to see him smile like that again.
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author's note : I have had this fic idea for literally forever and I’m so happy I finally got down to write it.
I really wanted to kinda ‘dig deep’ into Jake’s character here, I hope it worked and that I was able to do him justice. He’s my baby I love him so much.💞
Also quick question, are we sick of Jake and reader being rivals ? It’s like my favorite trope with Jake and the only one I really see fit with a character like him, and I have so many more ideas but they are all with rival reader and I don’t want it to feel redundant for you guys, so tell me what you think !
Summary : You get stung by a stingray on a squad outing at the beach, to everyone’s surprise — including yours — Jake is the first one at your side.
Pairing : Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Fem!Reader
Important info : Your call sign is Lightning ⚡️ :)
Disclaimer : English is not my first language so apologies for any grammatical errors that might have escaped my proofreading !💞
Word count : 5.1k
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“I hate the beach,” you muttered as you were helping Natasha unload Bradley’s bronco.
The sun was blazing high in the sky on the beach in front of the Hard Deck, reflecting on the water and almost blinding you if it weren’t for your aviators, snugly perched on your nose. Reuben and Mickey had sprinted towards the ocean as soon as they were out of their car — as excited as children on Christmas morning — laughing as they launched themselves into the waves.
“Yeah that’s right, don’t worry about helping us, dickheads !” Bradley sarcastically yelled after them. “Javy, don’t even think about joining them before this car is empty.” He warned, index finger pointing at Javy who was looking with envy at his two friends — who were already in the cool water.
“You’re no fun Bradley,” Coyote mumbled.
“I’ll drink to that,” Jake agreed with his friend, making a mock cheers motion towards him with a beer he — somehow —already had open.
You rolled your eyes at his words, Hangman’s childish behavior was only fueling the irritation and oncoming exasperation you were already feeling bubbling up inside you, from merely standing on the burning sand.
“I don’t even know why I keep coming to these things,” you continued complaining to Natasha, needing to lament yourself at the prospect of the hellish afternoon you were about to willingly — only God knows why — put yourself through.
Natasha only chuckled and before she was able to retort anything, Jake’s voice resonated in your ears first.
“I have my theory Lightning, wanna hear it ?”
“No.”
“I think that the temptation of seeing my hot, sweaty and shirtless body absolutely destroy Bradshaw at volleyball is just too much for you to resist.” He laid out his explanation, cocky smirk firmly in place, shirt already nowhere to be seen as he took a sip of his beer.
Natasha’s eyes slightly widened at Jake’s bold choice of words. Her eyes flicked from him to you, awaiting your answer and not missing the way your nostrils slightly flared in irritation… or was it fluster ?
You scoffed, hoping it came across as indignation, rather than a pathetic attempt to hide how rather truthful his observation had been.
“Just shut the fuck up Hangman,” you hissed, “go splash around and leave us alone, will you ?”
He stayed silent for a beat, pride radiating from his features as a victorious grin stretched his lips. No doubt that your reaction gave him the answer he was looking for, he’d been bulls eye, as always.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he winked at you before making his way towards Reuben and Mickey who had started a swimming race.
Bradley, who was still busy unloading his Bronco — waist deep into the trunk, suddenly got out upon hearing Jake’s words.
“Hey no— come back here Hangman !” He yelled after the blond. He turned to you then, lifting his arms in incomprehension, “what the fuck Lightning ?”
You didn’t even dignify him with a response, too busy watching Jake’s back as he walked towards the ocean. Your eyes raked over his form. From the short hair at the top of his nape, giving way to his neck, meeting the muscles of his shoulders — expanding into his whole back. His waist, which narrowed a bit from the rest of his body — his hips, on which his bathing suit was sitting lowly, the curve of his ass—
The sound of Bradley clearing his throat next to you made you jump out of your trance. When you — regretfully — tore your eyes away from Jake to glare at Bradley, he was looking at you in a deadpan expression, one eyebrow raised.
“I’m not bothering, am I ?”
You heard Natasha snicker as she was now the one waist deep with Bob into the Bronco’s trunk, and you felt heat rising to your cheeks at being so blatantly caught ogling at your so called ‘arch nemesis’.
You cleared your throat, making your voice sound as normal as possible, “No, you’re not.” You smiled tightly at him, resuming the unloading of the car. “How many stuff did you bring anyway, Bradley ? Feels like you have enough things to camp here for a week.”
He placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt.
“I’m sorry, Lightning, I like to anticipate. You never know when you might need something.” He explained, “besides, someone’s gotta think about it. And we can’t count on you for that.” He muttered out his next words, “you’re way too busy staring at Hangman’s ass…”
“I’m sorry what was that, Bradshaw ?”
He smiled sweetly at you, “Nothing, Lightning, it was nothing.”
“Alright let’s just finish unpacking this damn car.” Natasha called out to both of you, “I wanna go in the water already.”
You four finally finished getting everything out and setting up a small space with parasols, the cooler and all of your towels. When you had finished setting the last towel down, Natasha was already halfway out of her t-shirt and shorts and already in her bathing suit, Bradley was doing the exact same thing as he ceremonially took off his t-shirt.
“You guys coming ?” Natasha asked Bob and you, as you were both sitting comfortably on your towels under one of the parasols.
“Not for now, maybe I’ll come in later.” Bob replied with a sweet smile, pushing his glasses back up his nose.
“And I’m not going in at all, now or later.” You answered, aiming to smile as sweetly as your friend.
“Oh come on, you do this every time,” Natasha complained, “just come in ! Just for a quick swim, please !” She begged, joining her hands in a pleading motion as Bradley snickered next to her.
“Ain’t no way you are getting her near the water, Nat,” he said putting on his aviators.
“He’s right, I’m sorry Phee but you know it, there’s too many weird ass creatures in there for me to ever step foot near it.”
Natasha let out a defeated sigh, “it’s alright, I’ll just have to have tons of fun without you then.”
“Yeah you do that,” you chuckled, “please try to drown Hangman on my behalf.”
She saluted you before she started jogging towards where the rest of the group was with Bradley.
“Hey don’t forget to put on sunscreen !” Bob yelled after them as he was holding a tub of said sunscreen in his hand.
“Yes mom !” Bradley yelled back, even though they made absolutely no move to come back to get some.
You enjoyed the peace that came with their departure for the waves, only hearing the distant sounds of their voices and laughs as you could only make out the outline of their bodies as they were already so far out in the water.
“Since you don’t like going in the water, have you got any other plans for today ?” Bob asked you sweetly, as he was getting out a book from his backpack.
“Actually Bobby, yes I do,” you smiled back at him as you were getting out your own book from your bag.
Bob — as the sweet, curious and engaging man he was — looked at the cover of your book with interest. The cover was pretty simple, it was actually a pretty drawn picture of a beach, and it didn’t let anything on about what was happening inside the pages.
“Ohh what is it about ?”
You smirked, opening the book where your bookmark was, eyes skimming over the page before deciding to hand it to him.
“Just read this page, it pretty much sums up what the story is about, tell me what you think.”
You carefully eyed him as he was reading through the words. Gradually, you could see his eyes widen and his cheeks taking on an adorable pink hue. When he had read through the page entirely, he gave it back to you.
“Well,” he began, chuckling but obviously flustered, “that’s certainly something.”
“I know,” you grinned at him, delighted to see him so sheepish, “what is your book about Bobby ? Are there any naked men in yours ?”
He laughed as the pink on his cheeks deepened in a slightly darker shade of red, “There are not, it’s just a regular thriller.”
“Okay, enjoy your murder mystery.”
“And enjoy your orgy.” He winked at you, settling himself properly to read.
You laughed, surprised to hear the word coming out of his mouth, as you settled down yourself comfortably for a good read.
Two hours passed during which Bob and you cozily read your respective books next to one another. By now, the other squad members were out of the water, tired out by their endless races and splashing around. They had gone back to the sand and Reuben and Mickey had ran back to where you and Bob were laid out to grab the volleyball net. Even exhausted from swimming, a single “I could still beat you all right now” from Jake was enough for everyone to regain their energy instantly.
It was Mickey, Bradley and Phoenix against Jake, Reuben and Javy.
They were not too far from where you and Bob were settled, close enough that you could clearly see the game. And close enough so that you could ogle away at the — unfortunate, truly you hated having to admit it to yourself — object of your desires.
You looked up just a tiny bit from your book, just enough to gawk at Jake without making it obvious from his perspective.
He was still wet from his hours of swimming, drops of water cascading down his naked torso, disappearing beneath his swimming trunks. The way his muscles moved as he hit the ball, his thighs flexing as he ran up to the net to spike. And God that ass—
“You found someone more interesting than the naked men in your book ?” Bob mischievously asked, still laying next to you.
Must someone always interrupt you whenever you laid eyes on the best part of Jake’s body ?
Nonetheless, you were enjoying seeing this more playful side of Bob, even if it was at your expense.
“Well Bobby, sometimes I like myself a little reality instead of fiction,” you shot back, feeling comfortable enough to keep your eyes on Jake, even after Bob’s remark.
He just laughed, shaking his head fondly, “and you dare say that you hate him,” he sighed out with a smile.
“I do hate him, just not his God given attributes.” You countered, “I know when to admit Mother Nature did a good job.”
“Yeah, you tell yourself that.”
You just playfully smacked his arm before sliding your bookmark into your book, carefully setting it down on your towel.
“I’m going to dip my feet on the shore, it’s hot as hell here.” You announced as you were getting up.
“Mmmh,” Bob hummed, “is it really the sun or Jake’s half naked body getting you hot and bothered ?”
You looked back at him in slight, delighted shock at seeing him so openly teasing and playful. Your only response was to jokingly flip him off before walking towards the water. You were totally unable to do anything more than dipping your feet in the small waves that crashed on the sand. Everything that had to do with the ocean — while it was fascinating — freaked you out.
You walked past your squad mates, who were deeply immersed into their volleyball match, and didn’t see you walk up to shore.
Instant relief washed over you as soon as the wave hit your feet. While it was true that the heat of the blazing sun was getting unbearable, Bob was partially right. Your body temperature had significantly risen as you had taken the time to ogle at Jake — and the book you were reading before laying your eyes on him definitely did not help. So you welcomed the cooling sensation that came as the wave hit your feet, walking for a bit and taking the time to enjoy this moment. You hated the beach. But today hadn’t been so bad, you were able to get ahead in your book and gawk away at Jake in a way you weren’t able to do on base. So yeah, pretty good day so far.
And right as you were about to indulge yourself in some more Jake watching—
“OW FUCK !!”
Your scream of agony echoed on the beach as scorching, white-hot pain speared into your left foot. The pain was mind numbing and nearly made you fall over. A moment of clarity shined through the burning sensation and you looked down to where your foot had began to throb, and the sight made you jump back. You saw the stingray’s barb move in the water before the flat fish left and began to swim back towards the ocean. Blood had begun mixing with water where the barb had punctured the side of your foot.
Panic was seeping its way into your veins, mingling with the pain. Breath heavy with fright and excruciating suffering, you felt yourself start to fall backwards, unable to keep upright any longer. You prepared for the added hurt of the fall—
But instead of the blazing and hard sand, you felt two strong arms around your back.
You turned to see Jake’s face close to yours, green emerald eyes injected with worry and fear.
“Y/N what the fuck happened ?! Are you alright ??”
His voice was strained and breathy, like he had sprinted all the way over here. His eyes roamed over your body quickly, assessing if you were hurt, and finally his gaze found your left foot, that had already begun to swell and bruise, and which continued leaking blood.
Jake winced, cursing lowly under his breath as he gently set your head down on his lap. He took a beat to examine your foot from where he was.
By now the squad had gathered around you two.
“Bradley, call 911, Y/N was stung by a stingray.” Jake instructed, voice calm but firm.
You only heard Bradley running back to the towels to get his phone, you could also hear the others’ quiet and worried whispers, having shut your eyes to avoid looking at any of them. Even with the agonizing pain throbbing — not only in your foot now — but in your entire body, this felt humiliating.
“Shh, it’s okay sweetheart, I know it hurts,” Jake’s soothing voice came into your ears.
It’s only then that you realized that tears were freely running down your cheeks, your breathing was ragged, heavy with pain and you were letting out small, strained whimpers that were a testimony of the hell you were going through.
“Oh fuck,” you cursed in a mix of pain and embarrassment, still refusing to look at any of your squad mates, while furiously wiping away the tears on your cheeks.
Jake shushed you soothingly, one of his hand coming up to tenderly brush your hair back from your sweaty forehead.
“It’s okay Y/N, you’re okay I promise. I know it hurts right now but 911 will be here soon.” His voice was so gentle, and for a minute it pulled your mind away from the throbbing pain in your left foot.
You finally opened your eyes and turned back to him, squinting a bit to look up at him, and Jake immediately moved a few centimeters so his head was now shielding yours from the blinding light of the sun. His eyes were staring straight into yours, worry still swimming in them, along with a tenderness you were not used to see.
“Are you okay ?” He asked, voice impossibly soft and gentle.
It made your heart skip a beat, and the realization that he was still lovingly brushing your hair back did not help. To avoid blurting out anything stupid — though if you did, you’d at least be able to blame it on the pain later — you did what you were so used to do.
“Of course I’m not okay, what does it fucking look like Seresin ?!” You hissed at him.
But despite your unjustified anger towards him, Jake just smiled down at you. Not his usual cocky smirk, or his smug grin — a genuine one.
“The fuck are you smiling for ?”
His smile only widened, “you’re still angry at me, it must not be as bad as I thought it was.”
You scoffed, outraged, but just as you were about to retort something with the same amount of venom that was probably spreading in your body right now—
Another wave of pain flared up. Intense and excruciating, you cried out and instinctively, one of your hand shot out to grip Jake’s forearm, squeezing it as hard as you could to try and focus on anything else except the agonizing pain flaring up in your entire body.
And even though your nails were anchored in his arm, probably drawing a tiny bit of blood, Jake did not waver. He stayed with you, his other hand still lightly brushing your hair.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said again, voice reassuring. “That’s it, just hold onto me.”
He then turned towards the rest of the squad — who was still anxiously waiting behind him.
“Where is Bradley ? Does he have an ETA on 911 ?” He asked, not a trace of panic in his tone. Even when he wasn’t talking to you, his calm and lulling voice was soothing your system.
You could feel your blood pump in your ears and for a moment the intense pain calmed down, leaving just a permanent ache in your foot. You released your death hold on Jake’s forearm but kept your hand on his skin, the warmth of it grounding you.
“I don’t know, he’s still on the phone,” Natasha said, voice shaking a bit and trying to get a look at you from behind Jake.
“Should we do something while waiting for them ?” Mickey asked, panic in his voice at seeing you in such a state, “elevate her foot or something ?”
“Absolutely not.” Jake’s response was instant, “the venom is already spreading in her body and moving her could accelerate the process, it would do more harm than good. We just have to wait for 911 to come.”
You could feel your friends beginning to approach, in a desire to do anything that might help you while awaiting for the ambulance to arrive. But while the pain should have relieved you of your inhibitions, in this instant there was nothing worse for the tough fighter pilot that you were than your squad mates seeing you down and writhing in pain because of a stupid flat fish.
You squeezed Jake’s arm once to get his attention. He turned to you, eyes softening once again.
“Yeah, sweetheart ? You need anything ?”
The next words were hard to get out, not only because of the pain but because of how humiliating they were to pronounce out loud. Especially to someone like Jake — your rival, your arch nemesis, the one person you claimed to hate more than anything on this earth.
But right now — with your head on his lap, his hand caressing the top of your hair and him calling you sweetheart like you were the love of his life, you couldn’t find it in you to keep fighting him.
“Jake, I don’t want them to see me like that…” you whispered, voice strained by the pain that was still clinging to you.
Quick understanding flashed through his eyes, he didn’t say anything, didn’t question you, he just turned back to the squad — firm and authoritative.
“Could you please go load back the cars ? So that when the ambulance arrive we are all ready to go.”
Mickey, Reuben, Javy and Natasha all nodded diligently, happy to be of service given the situation. They all ran back to the towels and parasols, where Bradley and Bob already had started to pack up.
You squeezed Jake’s forearm again.
“Thank you— Oh fuck !”
Another wave hit you then, fuck, when was this going to stop ??
This one was especially bad, it felt like your entire body was burning alive. You cried out, reaching for Jake, trying to anchor yourself to him. Your eyes welled up with tears that were flowing endlessly down your cheeks, breath quick and heavy with panic.
“Jake, Jake Jake Jake—“ your voice was rushed, filled with fright and pain.
“I’m here, baby, right here. Try to take deep breaths for me okay ? Breathe in…” He made a show of taking an exaggerated inhale.
You just followed his instructions, breathing in deeply.
“That’s good, that’s perfect. Now breathe out…”
You copied his theatrical exhale, still holding on tightly to him. He gave you a proud smile, the one hand that wasn’t still busy brushing your hair, came up to cup your cheek — thumb tenderly caressing your skin.
“That’s good, you’re doing so good.”
You placed your right hand — the one that wasn’t holding on for dear life to his forearm — on top of his hand that was cupping your cheek, still breathing deeply with him.
Your next words would probably make you want to kill yourself when the pain stops numbing your mind, but right now there was only one thing you wanted. And it resided in the very man above you, who was looking at you and touching you with an affection that would have you shedding tears if you weren’t already doing so because of the pain.
“Please, Jake, don’t stop. Keep talking to me.” You pleaded, voice shaking with tears and a few sniffles.
Something shifted in Jake’s expression then, a reflection of how his heart broke for you right at this moment. His beautiful features took on a raw display of emotion, he inhaled sharply — forcing his voice to come out as calm and unwavering as possible.
“I will, baby, don’t worry. I’m right here with you, I’m not leaving you.” He soothed you, green eyes boring into yours and desperately trying to convey everything he felt in this moment and couldn’t possibly express with words. “Not ever.”
You let out a relieved sigh, not only at his words, but at the feeling of the spike of pain calming down, leaving — once again — only the static pain in your foot. You closed your eyes, still taking deep breaths like Jake told you and trying to slow your heart beat down. If it weren’t for this stupid stingray who had your foot feeling like it would burn and fall off your body at any moment, you would consider this moment peaceful. Jake holding you, touching your skin like you were the most precious thing in this world, voice soft and gentle like you’ve never heard before….
“The pain will continue to come and go in spikes,” Jake explained, voice low, as if to not disturb the moment, “it’s the venom spreading in your body.”
You kept your eyes closed, only nodding slightly to tell him you understood.
“You scared the hell out of me,” Jake admitted after a beat of silence, in a small, almost sad laugh.
You nuzzled closer to his hand that was cupping your cheek, “are you saying you care about me, Hangman ?” You inquired, a teasing smile pulling at your lips, your voice coming out a little strained and tired from all the pain.
“I don’t know, I might just do,” You only heard the fond smile in his voice.
Only moments after, you felt his lips press with an infinite amount of tenderness on your forehead. You sucked in a breath, opening your eyes in surprise. The kiss lasted a few seconds, and when he pulled away, the look in his eyes almost took your breath away.
“What ? You surprised ?” He probed, mimicking your teasing tone.
You felt yourself flush. Fluster temporarily replacing the pain in your body, filling you with a warmth that was making you forget about your punctured foot that was still leaking blood and painting the water crimson red.
You just snuggled further into his hand, tearing your eyes away from him to escape his prying gaze, “shut up,” you mumbled.
He just laughed, keeping his affectionate administrations to your skin.
And that’s when you heard the loud wail of the ambulance siren coming closer to the beach. Just seconds after, the whole squad was running at full speed towards you two.
“They are here !” Bradley yelled, “they are here Y/N !”
“It’s almost over, sweetheart,” Jake whispered, placing one more quick kiss to your forehead before the whole squad, along with the medics, reached you.
Jake immediately took the initiative to explain the situation, “she was stung by a stingray, approximately 10 minutes ago. The barb punctured the side of her left foot, it’s been bleeding ever since the sting. Venom has already started spreading.”
“Okay, thank you sir,” one of the medic addressed Jake before turning to you, “ma’am, my name is Martin. What’s yours ?”
“Y/N.”
“Okay Y/N. Listen we’re gonna need to put you on a stretcher to get you in the ambulance. Just know that it will probably hurt.”
You just nodded, taking a deep breath.
They hoisted you up onto the stretcher, you muffled a cry behind your hand and squeezed Jake’s hand which had slipped into yours. Once you were installed in the ambulance, the medics looked at you and then at the squad.
Martin spoke up, “one of you can climb with Y/N in the back of the ambulance. The rest can follow behind by car to get to the hospital. Who do you want coming with ?” He asked.
Lying in the stretcher that was inclined so you were sitting up a bit, your eyes immediately found Jake, who gave you a hopeful smile. You so desperately wanted to say his name, have him climb in with you and hold you like he had been doing on the beach. But sitting here, the whole squad in front of you, you felt the words get stuck in your throat. Jake seemed to see it in your eyes, the hesitation, seemed to feel that for some reason, you would not be able to express wanting him by your side. And witnessing the sadness and disappointment flash in his emerald eyes after having been so bright, made your heart fall into your stomach.
A beat passed before Natasha slightly raised her hand.
“I’ll come with—“
But Bob, of all people, was the one who interrupted her.
“Nat, I actually got a call from Cyclone there’s a meeting we have to attend, all of us.”
Phoenix, along with the rest of the squad looked confused, sharing interrogating glances.
“What ? A briefing ? Right now ?” Bradley questioned, incredulous.
Bob gave him a pointed look, “yes, Bradley, right now.” He then turned to Jake, a characteristic sweet smile on his face, “Jake, you’ll stay with Y/N, right ?”
Jake seemed surprised for a moment, his eyes flicking rapidly between Bob and you.
“I— Yeah, yeah of course,” he nodded quickly, he then turned to you, hopefulness returning to his gaze, “if you’ll have me.”
“Yes,” you answered, way too quickly — which Bob, along with the medics, quietly snickered at — “yes of course, come in.”
After the squad bid you goodbye and promised to come see you at the hospital, Bob mischievously winked at you and hurried them back to the cars.
Jake climbed into the ambulance, sitting on a seat next to your stretcher, fingers intertwining with yours instantly, like instinct. And almost as soon as his skin made contact with yours, a wave of pain hit you again, hard.
Cursing, you wiggled around on the stretcher, the burning sensation was stronger than before and was taking your whole body hostage, eyes almost rolling back from how painful it all was.
“It’s almost over, sweetheart, I promise.” Jake reassured, voice strained from seeing you hurt like that.
“Y/N,” Martin caught your attention, “the venom is progressing quickly and we need to act fast. We’re gonna give you something for the pain, it might make you a little loopy and you might fall asleep. You’ve been through a lot and the pain has definitely taken a toll on you, so totally normal if you want to crash for a moment, alright ?”
You nodded, feeling Jake squeezing your hand, you heard him take a deep breath next to you and you could feel the relief radiating off him. One of the other medics went to slap his shoulder.
“You did a good job, boyfriend.”
Jake just chuckled and you caught the faintest shade of red color his cheeks. Neither of you bothered to correct him on the term ‘boyfriend’. You all but smiled through the pain, looking at Jake with something that people might call love.
“Yeah, he really did.”
Martin turned back to you with a syringe, “okay Y/N, you need to be brave for one more minute, you might feel a slight pinch.”
And while the needle punctured your skin, similar to how the stingray’s barb had — only minutes prior to this, your eyes never wavered from Jake’s.
It only took a few moments for the painkillers to start acting, you let out a sigh of relief at feeling the pain peak progressively go away. Along with the disappearing agony, you felt your eyelids grow heavy.
“Jake…” you called out softly, already halfway into Morpheus’ arms.
“Yeah, sweetheart ? I’m right here.” He squeezed your hand again.
A smile pulled at your lips.
“I think— I think I’m gonna take a quick nap.”
“Yeah, looks like it,” he chuckled affectionately.
“Will you still be here when I wake up ?”
A beat of silence passed before he leaned forward, leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead that widened your smile.
“Yes I will, you rest, baby. You’ve been so strong today.” Another kiss. “I’ll see you when you wake up.”
And with that confirmation, your eyes finally closed, body finally at ease after all the events of the day. Before sleep took your mind away to a far away place, you registered Jake leaving one last kiss on your forehead, like he just couldn’t help himself. The warmth that filled you would have been able to alleviate any pain better than any of the medics’ painkillers. You fell asleep the heart light, knowing that when you would open your eyes, the first thing they would land on would be Jake’s green ones, full of something that could only be called love.
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Author’s note : thank you for reading "Saltwater Monster" I hope you liked it !!! Also I hope everyone spent lovely holidays !!
Please don’t hesitate to leave feedback and constructive criticism ! I always worry about out of character writing so if you think I made Jake too soft or something, don’t hesitate to tell me !!💞
Summary : Jake goes through your drawing notebook and finds out why you’ve never ever allowed so much as people approaching it.
Pairing : Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader
Important info : Your call sign is Lightning :)⚡️
Disclaimer : English is not my first language so sorry for any grammatical errors that might have escaped my proofreading. I have no knowledge in the US Navy or military so sorry for any inaccuracies in that department. Also I don’t draw and I do not have a single artistic bone in my body so sorry if this seems unrealistic or badly written !💞
Word count : 4.4k
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“Mickey…” you warned once, feeling him slowly creep up over your shoulder, trying to peek at the traits your hand was steadily tracing on the blank paper of your journal.
“Oh come on, I’ve already seen your drawings, what, is the process secret defense or something ?” Mickey whined out, sounding as petulant as a child.
Momentarily stopping, you kept your journal close to your chest, hiding its content from his view. He whined, finally deciding to leave you be, choosing instead to go slump on the opposite couch, while making it known just how unfair and mean you were for refusing to get him out of his lethal boredom.
Your morning training flight had ended thirty minutes ago, and Maverick had needed to attend some last minute meeting with Cyclone, leaving you in the briefing room, waiting for his remarks on each of your flying. Everyone had found a way to occupy themselves, except Mickey, who kept bothering everyone, trying to find something that he’d deem amusing enough to focus all his attention on.
He’d already gone to Natasha who had quickly sent him packing, choosing this rare free time to catch up on some paperwork the base’s administrators had been begging her to send for three months.
Bob had been kind enough to propose to share his book with him, but he refused, claiming it was too boring. And you suspected that he had actually found something to do, and that that thing was simply to annoy all of you, who were calmly waiting for the return of your instructor.
His next victim had been you.
You should have guessed it, truly. Peacefully sitting on the couch, tracing lines in your drawing notebook, eyes flicking discreetly every so often to the pool table, where Reuben, Javy and Jake were engaging in a pretty wild game of table football.
“Can I just look at one page, please ?” Mickey tried again, putting on the best puppy dog eyes he could conjure.
“No.”
No one had ever even glanced at your drawing notebook. Even though you’d always carry it around, whipping it out if you had a rare moment of rest during your busy life on base, everyone had learned to respect that boundary, no matter how futile it seemed to some.
“Leave her, Fanboy. She just doesn’t want you to see the naked men she draws in there,” Jake snickered from his spot at the table football.
You simply flipped him off, not even rewarding him with a stare.
Despite your notebook being so firmly guarded, everyone knew you drew beautifully. If they were honest, beautifully wasn’t even cutting it.
While your notebook was strictly off limit, you’d let them see when you’d lazily and mindlessly let your pencil graze the paper of a torn up blank page. They never ceased to be amazed at your ‘talent’, and they’d always let you know whenever they had the chance. Which, it’s not that you hated it, but the word ‘talent’ rubbed you the wrong way. This was no talent, it was years of hard work and practice, none of this had come your way the first time you had grabbed a pencil, and yet, the squad always made you out to be some kind of prodigee.
Everyone knew you drew portraits the best.
The first time it truly hit them was during one particularly boring meeting where Cyclone was just up everyone’s asses and complaining about how none of you ever bothered to do the administration work you were required to do. His scolding wasn’t new, you’d at least get one of these meeting every month, so it wasn’t something you all took too seriously. After a few minutes of sketching you passed off as pretending to take notes, you elbowed Natasha, snickering a bit as you showed her the piece of paper on which you had made Cyclone’s angry face come to life.
But the chuckling you had expected never came. In its place, Natasha’s eyes were wide open, in complete awe of the pencil sketch you had presented her. She quickly, and the more discreetly she could, passed it around the table for everyone to see, pointing to you in pride when the other members of the squad would look, equally as amazed as she was.
Ever since that day, Mickey had begged you to draw a portrait of him. You had always refused, not exactly knowing why, maybe simply for the pleasure of seeing him pout at your constant refusal.
He had been greatly offended when one night you had casually handed Penny a sketch of her you had quicky drawn at the Hard Deck.
“She gives me free drinks,” you had justified, a small smirk pulling at your lips.
“I have your life in my hands every-time we’re in the air, is that not enough for you ?”
One year, for his birthday, you had finally decided to grant him the one thing he kept begging you for. Mickey had literally screamed, yes screamed in sheer excitement when you had handed him the portrait you had drawn of him. It now stood proudly on his bedside table, adorned by a beautiful frame.
You drew beautifully, there was simply no other way to put in.
“Please, Lightning, I’ll do your paperwork for a month if you let me see,” Mickey had resorted to bargaining.
“No.” You said again, firmly camping on your position as the movement of your pencil grazing the page could faintly be heard.
“Good morning aviators.” A booming voice made every single one of you jump out.
And then immediately salute when you realized it was your commanding officer. Mickey nearly toppled over from how fast he stood up.
“Captain Mitchell has some other matter to attend to. I reviewed all of your flight footage so I’ll be the one debriefing you today.”
You swore you audibly heard Reuben swallow next to you.
Your commanding officer wolfishly grinned, a terrifying indicator that this debrief wasn’t really about to go as smoothly as when Maverick was directing it.
“Let’s move to briefing room three, shall we ?” He smiled, seemingly impatient to share his mind about the way you all flew.
Reluctantly, you all followed with a dutifully soldier step, though not without dread.
“You’re gonna get chewed up, man.” Javy whispered to Jake, snickering.
And he did. After absolutely destroying him, Maverick would have at least, discreetly, praised the risky maneuver he had pulled off.
But commanding officer Whitman was nothing like Maverick. After words that were anything but kind about his flying style, he was sent back to the main briefing room, like a child sentenced to think about his behavior.
Jake guessed he had maybe grown too accustomed to Maverick being somehow of an older and just as reckless version of him that he had forgotten that most of the moves he pulled could get anyone not only written up, but grounded, for good.
Jake sat down with a sight, the feeling of having been scolded like a child, something that hadn’t happened since the Naval Academy, sitting heavily on his chest. He groaned when he felt that he had carelessly sat down on something, the futile action only serving to upset him more after what he had endured a few doors down.
But all irritation suddenly vanished when he lifted himself to glare at the object daring to pester his sulking.
He froze.
Lying there, rarely unsupervised, was your drawing notebook, Sitting neatly where you must have dropped it when Commander Whitman had walked in.
The light green cover was a little worn out from you carrying it every where you went. He gently picked it up, took it out from under him so he could sit down again. His fingers hesitantly toyed with one corner, debating on opening it.
Why were you so adamant about no one looking through it anyway ?
While he mainly joked about it, Jake was convinced you were actually drawing naked people in there. What other reason would there be for your constant refusal ? You were talented as hell, wouldn’t you want to share that with everyone ?
Jake spent more time than he’d like to admit just watching you, nose buried in that stupid notebook, sketching away God knows what. The little furrow in your brow when you seemed to draw something just a tiny bit difficult, though he knew without seeing it that it’d look effortless no matter how much of a struggle you seemed to display.
His stare was fixed on the notebook in his hands. There would be no way for you to know he had gone through it if he put it back in the same spot, right ? He would just have a quick, harmless look. Besides, it wasn’t like he would be reading through your diary, it wasn’t anything too imitate.
And besides, he figured that if you did find out, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. You’d scream at him, sure, but again, it wouldn’t be different from any other day, no matter how hard he wished it wasn’t the case.
Still, he found himself still hesitating. Even if you never found out, it was basic respect to honor a boundary you had made abundantly clear throughout the years. But just as he was about to, though not reluctantly, put the precious notebook back down, curiosity with a mix of self deprecation, knowing that at least now you’d have a real reason for disliking him, made him open it.
And—
Well.
To say that it was underwhelming would be a tremendous understatement.
The first page greeted him with the beautiful sight of a Lily. Though, perfectly drawn, it seemed to be taunting him. Was this really what he had defied your prohibition for ?
Why would you even hide this ? Oh, what, did you think the flower was out of proportion ? Embarassed because you hadn’t drawn the petals as accurately as Mother Nature had carefully crafted them ? He had a little chuckle to himself, yeah, that was probably why. You thought your work was shit even thought it looked straight out like a Lily seed had been planted in your pages and you had dutifully took care of it to grow it into the beautiful flower staring back at him right now.
Pages after pages, he was met with objects from your daily life, drinks from the Hard Deck, a sunset at the beach, flowers that grew behind the base... One particular drawing of your F/A-18 that looked like one of the engineer on base had themselves drawn it had him staring a bit longer. And he found himself wondering just how many hours you had put into this, into all of this. How many years did it take for you to master life around you so effortlessly ?
He continued to turn the pages, snatched away by the beauty of your work. Jake was almost halfway through it when he suddenly froze.
A mirror was his first thought.
It felt like looking in a mirror.
His own face was staring back at him on the page, the only difference was the serious air he was harboring on the drawing, a huge contrast to his jaw hanging open at the sight of it.
He didn’t even have that fleeting second of astonishment, of doubt, of ‘oh my god is that me ?’. Because there was no place for doubt. It was, undeniably, him.
After the moment of shock had passed, his heart began to pound in his chest to the point it was almost painful. His eyes flicked to the page right next to it, him again. A small smile stretching his lips and a toothpick in between his teeth.
Jake stayed in what felt like a long time just staring at the perfect pencil drawing of his face. The knowledge that you had been the one to delicately trace every line of his face was spreading a warmth all throughout his body. He felt a flush bloom from his neck all the way to his ears and he laughed slightly, embarrassed by his own reaction.
Jesus, these were only drawings, he tried to reason himself. You drew people often, hell you had even drawn Commander Whitman in various state of fury a dozen of times, though his pounding heart didn’t seem to agree.
Willing himself to move on, he turned the page—
His breath got caught in his lungs.
The next page showed three little sketches of him, all different emotions that somehow covered a good part of the wild range of his personality.
On one he was harboring his usual cocky expression, smirk stretching his lips wide, eyebrows slightly raised in a defying air, and there even was a teasing and arrogant twinkle in his eye that made the drawing seem all the more alive.
The one right next to it showed his profile, head looking down at what he guessed was a pre flight checking list. Expression closed, focused, like every pilot ought to be while checking the plane that would bring them up to fifty thousand feet in the air.
The last of the three little sketches showed his upper half, a cue stick in hand, a genuine smile, staring off into the distance, where normally the Hard Deck pool table would be. But there was no scenery, only him. Happiness and relaxation evident in the way he held himself.
His heart wasn’t exactly beating the way it should, a weird mix of a flutter and a stutter that made his whole chest feel tight.
Jake felt seen.
And seen by your eyes, you, was the greatest honor he could think of.
His eyes widen when he saw the next page. Taking up almost the entire paper, he was drawn down to his midthighs. Swimsuit sitting low on his hips, Adonis belt on full view, abs carefully defined, puffed up chest, a grin illuminating his face and sunglasses to hide his precious green eyes from the sun.
Jesus fucking Christ, you had even gotten the mole on the left side of his hips. His flush only worsened, made him feel like his whole body was on fire. The harsh fabric of his flight suit suddenly feeling like too much on his feverish, sensitive skin.
Jake exhaled shakily. It felt overwhelming, and overwhelming wasn’t even cutting it.
His hands acted on their own as he continued to turn the pages. Each filled with images of him. Because to him, they were images. Not drawings. Images you had wanted to capture, keep a piece of. Stolen moments you had wanted to keep ingrained on paper, had wanted to keep him.
Almost half of your notebook was of him. He got to the last page you had drawn on.
A close up on his face from his neck. The brightest smile illuminating his features, the kind that allowed the creases near his eyes to make an appearance. A glint in his gaze that made him look warm, loving, almost tender like.
Writings at the bottom of the page caught his attention. The date was marked, like all the other drawings, he realized.
He frowned reading it.
The date on that last drawing was marked from the day before… which was a Sunday.
….You hadn’t seen each other on Sunday.
Something short circuited in his brain and in his heart.
Did that mean you were able to draw him by memory alone ? That you had every crease, every hair, every mole, freckle, every line of his face so deeply ingrained in your brain that you were able to render them that faithfully without even looking at him ?
It felt dizzying.
Eyes still transfixed on the drawing, steps coming from the hallway got him out of his trance and without thinking, he shoved the notebook into his flight suit.
“How did it go ?” He tried for casual as the rest of you walked in.
“Listen man, he even gave me shit,” Mickey complained, seeming still offended by what had happened, “I don’t even fly the goddamn plane !”
By the look on all of your faces, Whitman didn’t have anything nice to say to any of you.
Jake felt his heart stutter when his gaze shifted towards you, who were engrossed in a conversation with Natasha, most likely bitching about the debrief. It felt weird, to see you like that, knowing how you carefully sketched him every change you got.
You caught his gaze and frowned.
“What are you looking at, Hangman ?”
He smiled, and he wasn’t exactly sure if it turned out like a smirk or a genuine one.
“Nothing, darlin’.”
You rolled your eyes and Jake could decipher the smallest quirk of your lips, the lightest blush on your cheeks and wondered if it had always been there but just been too blind to see it.
You didn’t say anything about your notebook, didn’t seem to notice it was missing, too distracted by the morning’s event.
That night, Jake went home with the notebook. He didn’t quite have the heart to let go of it yet. Lying wide awake in his bed, with what had become a precious artifact, open, he kept staring at that very last page. Carefully, he’d trace the lines out with his fingers, in adoration of the way you saw him. Touch over every brush of the pencil you had evidently, carefully thought about.
He struggled to find sleep, whenever he would finally turn off the light, it would only take minutes before he’d turn it on again, grab the notebook and flip through it. He felt like his insides were melting every time his eyes raked through the pages.
Knowing he had been your secret muse all this time was setting a new desire alight in his chest, burning as fiery hot as a SuperHornet engine. Jake wanted, almost foolishly, to pose for you. Look into your eyes as you’d trace every single line of his face, body and soul, knowing you wouldn’t even have to stare at him to get him perfectly, down to every detail.
When he finally managed to fall asleep, you visited his every dream, and being haunted had never sounded so delightful.
“Where the fuck is it,” you grumbled under your breath, frantically moving the couch cushions around.
It was only when you were already at home that you noticed the very unusual absence of your drawing notebook. The realisation that you had forgotten it on base was scary. But the realisation you had in this instant, as you had come earlier than usual to look for it, that perhaps you hadn’t simply forgotten but downright lost it, was terrifying. You trusted your squadmates enough to believe that they would respect your boundary even without yourself present to firmly remind them of it, but what if any other people found it ?
God, you’d actually have to transfer base.
“You looking for something ?”
You jumped and grabbed at your chest where your heart had a similar reaction as you turned around.
“Jesus Christ, Seresin ! Don’t sneak up on me like that !”
“If I really wanted to sneak up on you, sweetheart, I can assure you I wouldn’t have announced myself quite this loud.”
Your eyes rolled automatically, a reflex you had taught yourself a long time ago whenever Jake spoke.
“Yeah, right, thank you, you can leave n—“
You stopped dead in your tracks. Eyes fixed on Jake’s right hand and what it was holding.
Jake saw you freeze and suddenly he lost the cocky edge. He cleared his throat.
“I think you forgot this yesterday.” He now held the notebook in both hands in front him, but not quite holding it out for you yet.
You didn’t dare to meet his eyes, because you knew, without even him saying anything, you knew. He had gone through it. Mortification couldn’t even begin to describe the feelings going through you as you stayed there, just staring at your notebook in his hands. Somehow, despite this situation being your worst nightmare, in the back of your mind something told you that in between Jake’s hands, the notebook felt at its right place. The muse holding close to him every piece of art he had inspired.
You knew. And Jake obviously knew you knew.
“You’re very talented.” He finally said, trying to break the silence.
“It’s not talent it’s—“
“Hard work,” he finished with a small, endeared, smile. “I know. And it shows, how hard you work I mean. It’s beautiful.”
You gulped. “What is ?”
“All of it.”
A pitt was forming in your stomach. You hated how he was dancing around it, hated how careful he was around the subject and a small part of you wished he could have just laughed at you, made some cocky remark, at least that way you’d have gotten some reaction out of him. You didn’t truly understand his behavior, did he think he was showing you mercy after going through the most intimate item in your life, one that was practically a pathway into your mind and heart ?
You cleared your throat, knowing you’d have to be the one to address the obvious elephant in the room.
“Are you not gonna ask why I draw you over and over again like a maniac ?” You asked, trying to sound jaded and uninterested despite the beating of your heart.
The smile that stretched his lips was soft.
“I don’t need to.”
Something in you bloomed at the way he looked at you.
Jake finally handed you the notebook, which you took with shaky hands that you struggled to hide.
You both stood in silence for a few seconds that felt like an eternity. Dancing on your feet, you chewed the inside of your cheek. What the fuck were you supposed to say ? This felt like too big of a conversation to have at six in the morning just before the morning flight.
“You—“ you immediately cringed at the way your voice was strained and cleared your throat, “do you wanna take one ?” You offered, eyes looking everywhere but directly at his eyes.
His eyes seemed to widen in barely hidden shock before he schooled himself.
“Of course I do, you know I’d never missed an opportunity to have my own face hanging around my place.”
You chuckled, feeling at ease by the way he lifted off a bit of the emotional tension. You handed him the notebook back, him holding it didn’t look as terrifying now.
“Here, choose and just rip it out.”
You’d thought he’d take some time to think about it, ponder about his decision, but no. Jake opened your notebook with a speed and ease that suggested he knew exactly what he was looking for, and he did, landing at the last page. Jake showed it to you.
“Can I ?”
You nodded, temporally surprised by his overly respectful behavior. He laid the notebook down on the nearby table and began to carefully rip the page.
When he finished, he handed it back to you, keeping the page he had ripped for him.
“Thank you.”
Silence filled the room again. And when you finally dared to lift your gaze and look in his eyes, it almost took your breath away. How gently, how patiently he was looking at you, a small, almost encouraging smile on his lips. You realized that he was waiting for you to talk, allowing you to take that next step and you guessed it was only natural. You were the one drawing his face everywhere in your notebook like a psychopath. He didn’t need to ask, he had said. Didn’t mean that in his heart he wasn’t dying for you to say it out loud.
You took in a big breath, and took a step towards him. A small physical reconciliation that you hoped you’d be able to morph into an emotional one.
“Listen, Seresin, I—“
The sudden boom of the door bursting open made both of you jerk back from each other.
“Damn,” Mickey whistled, “you’re here early.”
The rest of the squad followed close behind him, and most of them were barely able to hide the small, knowing smile pulling at their lips. Mickey seemed to be the only one confused.
“Hey, did we interrupt somethi—“
Bob elbowed him before he could finish his sentence, and he only shot his friend a death glare when he loudly exclaimed his pain and whined about ‘what was that for ?!’.
You hurriedly scurried back to your usual spot on the couch, feeling caught red handed even though you had only been standing in front of one another. Jake, much more relaxed than you, settled down next to Javy on the other couch, across the room and facing you.
You feigned a normal behavior by opening your notebook, about to pretend to draw like your world hadn’t shifted on its axis just a few seconds before.
Right as you opened it, something fell right from between the pages and into your lap. Frowning, you picked it up. It was a folded piece of paper, you carefully opened it and felt your heart stutter in your chest.
On the paper were drawn two very simple stick figures. Though, simple, they were very recognizable. It was you and Jake. The fucker had drawn himself with an eight pack and it tear a quiet laugh from you.
The two stick figures were holding hands and their mouth lines were quirked up in happy smiles. Objectively, it looked bad, primary children level. But it was his. He had drawn that while thinking of you.
Warmth bloomed throughout your body and you looked up, searching Jake’s gaze. You didn’t have to search long because he was already looking at you, awaiting your reaction. Truth be told, you don’t exactly know what you did, perhaps you bit your lip, shyly smiled, or even simply stared at him in astonishment, whatever you did, it seemed to please him.
Jake smiled. And he suddenly looked exactly as you had drawn him on that page that now had found a new place in the front pocket of his flight suit. A sight that would have blinded you had you not learned to love its brightness.
And without thinking, almost on instinct, you picked up your pencil.
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Author’s note : omg it felt like such a long time since I’ve written for my babyyyy !! Just some little fluff, hope you like it !💞💞
Also is this projection about me wanting to be any good at any sort of art ? Yes it might. And the title sucks because I couldn’t, for the life of me, find something else.
Alsoooo, I feel like lately my fics have been having very little dialogue and a lot of internal thoughts about feelings and stuff ? Is that annoying to read ? Please be honest guys
Summary: Jake's too untouchable, so you decide it’s time to crack his composure. With Bradley as your accomplice, you try to push Jake to his limit...but it comes with a price.
Word Count: 4.2k
Warnings: friends to lovers, mentions of drinking, decoy dynamic/weaponized flirting, jealousy, provocation, slight male dominance, competitive teasing, physical control if you squint, making out, mark making (thigh grabbing, bicep scratching, ear/neck biting/nipping), illusions to sex but no actual intercourse depicted.
18+ MDNI below the cut!
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The Hard Deck was louder than normal for a Friday night. Fridays were Dagger Squad nights: darts, pool, beer, and banter. You were at the bar, waiting for Penny to give you the next round of drinks for the group. Bradley was up at the bar with you, helping you bring the drinks back. He nudged your shoulder with his, his eyes following someone across the room.
"Look at him," Bradley said to you, gesturing toward the pool tables with his chin.
Your eyes followed his gaze and landed on Jake. He was taking a turn, smiling his perfect smile at Javy as he leaned across the table. He looked effortless, detached, and completely in control.
It drove you insane.
"He thinks he’s so untouchable," you sighed, leaning against the countertop. "Just one time, I want to see him get rid of that stupid smirk that's always on his face."
Bradley’s eyes met yours. They sparked with a sudden amusement. A slow grin started to form as he spoke. "You really have no clue, do you?"
"No clue about what?"
"About how hard Seresin has it for you," Bradley laughed, shaking his head.
You rolled your eyes as you let out a dry laugh. "Right. Jake doesn't care about anyone but Jake. He treats me the exact same way he treats everyone else on this base."
"Are you kidding me? Look at him right now," Bradley insisted, leaning closer so his voice wouldn't carry over the bar music. "The second you stood up to come get drinks, he watched you walk over here. He’s pretending to play his game of pool, but he hasn't looked at that table a single time since we walked over here. He’s miserable over the fact that you're standing next to me and not him."
You blinked, turning your head to look back over at the pool table. The second you did, Jake’s green eyes flicked up. His gaze met yours momentarily before he covered it up with another smirk and faced Javy again. Your heart did a flip.
"Do you want to break Hangman?" Bradley asks, stepping closer into your space, purposefully blocking Jake's view of the bar. He reached out slowly, gently tucking a stray strand hair behind your ear.
His touch was strictly friendly. But from across the room, it looked very intimate. "I'll help you. But I need you to follow my lead."
You grinned, the thrill of anticipation bursting through your chest. "What are you thinking, Bradshaw?"
"Even though he'd deny it, he's had his eyes on you all night," Bradley whispered. "Sit next to me. Laugh at my awful jokes. Hold onto my arm. Let's see how long his composure lasts."
"Deal."
Bradley maneuvered the walkway as he carried the tray of beers to get you a spot next to him. Jake, who finally escaped the pool table to rejoin the Daggers at the table, was sitting right across from you.
"Alright, I'm judging whoever ordered the light beer," Fanboy joked, reaching across to grab a bottle.
"That one would be Payback," Bradley said, laughing as he settled back into his seat. His arm effortlessly draped over the back of your chair, his thumb lightly brushing your shoulder. To you two, was a completely platonic gesture, but you saw the exact second Jake noticed it.
His smile didn't leave his face, but it stiffened. He picked up his own beer, taking a long slow sip. His eyes started to track Bradley's hand.
"So, Maverick has us doing low-altitude drills tomorrow," Phoenix says, leaning forward to start the conversation. "Who's going to take the lead?"
"I figure Hangman will try to jump into it, per usual," Javy chimed in, tossing a crumpled napkin at Jake's chest.
"Hey, when you're the best, you don't wait in line," Jake replied easily. His tone was confident, but his eyes flew straight to you. It was almost as if he was begging you to fire back a sarcastic comment like you normally do.
Instead, you ignored him. You turned to face Bradley, laughing at an unrelated expression he made. "Please, Bradley," you said, your voice carrying just enough over the music and the rest of the squad. You reached out and placed your hand firmly on his forearm, letting your fingers linger against his skin. "I'd bet on you any day to be the one who'll clear the canyon first."
Bradley's arm twitched underneath your hand as he tried to hold in a laugh. "Did you hear that, Hangman? Someone's got faith in me."
Across from you, Jake stopped fidgeting with his beer bottle. His jaw tightened as he stared directly at your hand that was rested on Bradley's arm. His cool demeanor was starting to evaporate, and an irritation began taking it's place.
"Well, is that so?" Jake asked, his voice dropping an octave, which made him sound even more serious than you'd ever heard him. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table as he looked right at you. "Sweetheart, I didn't realize you were such an expert on aviation strategy."
You chose to keep your eyes off of Jake as you squeezed Bradley's arm one more time. You pull your hand back to take a drink of your beer. "I just know who I like to back," you mumbled, smiling at Bradley.
Jake gripped his beer bottle to the point his knuckles turned white. Not a single word escaped his lips for the remainder of the conversation. His eyes felt like they never left you and Bradley.
-
When midnight rolled around, Bradley announced to the group that it it was his time to call it for the night.
He stood up and stretched, "Alright, I'm out."
"Past your bedtime, rooster?" Fanboy called out. Bradley waved him off with a grin.
You decided to stand up from the table with him. "I think I'm going to take off too," you said to the group. You quickly caught Jake's eye; he was still sitting, leaning back in his seat. He was trying so hard to look like he didn't care, but his eyes were tracking your every move.
"I'll walk you out," Bradley offered smoothly.
You walked next to each other as you headed toward the exit. The moment the doors opened, the cold air outside hit you instantly. You walked into the parking lot, stopping by Bradley's Bronco.
Inside of the bar, Jake sat frozen for a few seconds, but to him it felt like minutes. The sight of you walking out of the bar with Bradley brought an ache to his chest. His brain told him to play it cool, to not let anyone see it messing with him. But his heart and gut had a bubbling, jealous anger that drowned out all of his reasoning.
He stood up abruptly and marched out of the bar.
Outside, you faced Bradley. "Thanks for the assist, Bradshaw. That was pretty enjoyable."
Bradley grinned, "Anytime." He glanced over your shoulder to see the bar's entrance doors fly open. "He just walked out. There's your cue to get the job done."
There wasn't an ounce of hesitation. You stepped closer to Bradley, wrapping your arms around his neck for a hug. You held on for a second longer than you normally would. Right before pulling away, you planted a kiss onto his cheek.
"Drive safe," you whispered.
Bradley gave you a subtle wink, one that Jake couldn't see. "Good luck," he mumbled as he climbed into his Bronco. As the engine turned on and he backed out, you started to head towards your car.
You managed to make it three steps toward your car before a hand grabbed your arm.
The grip wasn't painful. It was uncompromising as it spun you around until your back was against your car. It made your breath hitch.
Jake towered over you, completely in your space. His cocky arrogance that was seen an hour before was gone. His jaw was clenched so tight, and his green eyes were darker than normal. His expression was a mix or frustration and possession.
"What the hell was that?" he demanded. His voice had a dangerous growl that you felt through your chest.
Your heart hammered as you swallowed hard. You forced an 'innocent' smile to your lips. "What was what, Seresin? I said goodnight to a friend."
"Don't play dumb with me," Jake snapped. His hands came up and landed on each side of you on the window, trapping you between him and the car. "You have been over Bradshaw all night. Touching him, laughing at him. Then that?" He scoffed. "Do you think it's funny? You think I'm just going to sit there and see you do that in front of me?"
"I didn't think you would care this much," you teased. Your voice trembled just enough to betray you; his sudden dominance was affecting your game. "You seemed really busy with your pool game."
A breathy, angry laugh escaped from him, his eyes locked into yours intensely. "Didn't care? I've been wanting to rip him away from you for the last two hours. You're playing a dangerous game, darlin."
"And what if I am?" you challenged him. Your chin tilted up defensively.
Jakes eyes flashed with a desperation you'd never seen before. "Then you're about to lose."
He didn't give you any time to respond. His hand came up to your jaw, his fingers firm as he brought his lips down to yours with force. It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a possessive, desperate claim.
The kiss was a dizzying, chaotic collision of tongue and teeth. The kiss tasted like beer and months of unspoken feelings. Your hands moved to his chest, pulling at the fabric of his shirt. You attempted to match the aggression as you pulled him closer to you, but you were never going to catch up with him.
He let out a slight groan against your mouth, a sound that sounded low and defeated. The grip he had on your jaw softened enough to graze his thumb along your cheekbone. He pulled back, both of you trying to catch your breath.
The energy between you two was heavy and completely charged. The weight of his feelings made it tight, crushing any playful feelings that were there at the beginning of the evening.
Jake didn't let you go, he couldn't get himself to. His chest heaved against yours as he looked down at you, his eyes still the same dark green they were when he first entered the parking lot.
"Get in my truck," he commanded. His voice was rough, sending a shiver down your spine. The usual, smooth Texan drawl he had was nowhere to be found.
You blinked, trying to clear your brain and process what he said. "What? What about my car?"
"Darlin, I don't give a damn about the car," Jake said, his fingers grasping a little tighter on your waist. You consumed every ounce of his focus. His grip on you was firm as he led you toward his truck. "I said get in."
You let out a breathless laugh, adrenaline coursing through your veins. He was completely unraveled by you. The controlled, unshakeable persona he always had shattered.
You were eating it up.
You didn't protest any longer, letting him take you take you across the gravel parking lot to his car. Your heart was racing at how intense and undeniable the air had become.
The door of his truck slammed shut behind you as Jake climbed into the driver's seat. His movements were sharp, moved by pure adrenaline. His hands gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white, almost tighter than the grip he had on his beer bottle inside of the bar. He didn't look over at you right away as settled himself into his seat.
"Jake," you started slowly, not paying any mind to the teasing tone in your voice. "You're going to break the steering wheel."
He let out a rough chuckle, finally looking at you. His pupils were blown. "If I don't hold onto this steering wheel, darlin, I'm going to pull you over the console. And if I do that, we will not be making it back to my place."
Before you could process the depth of his words, he turned on the car and backed out of the parking lot faster than you've ever seen anyone drive. The number on the speedometer climbed quickly.
A wicked smile spread on your face. The tension in the truck cab was intoxicating. You shifted in your seat to turn your body towards him, completely unbothered by how fast he was driving.
"What's the rush, Seresin?" you asked, your voice bringing back the playful innocence from earlier.
Jake continued looking forward, keeping his eyes on the road. "Shut up," he grumbled, even though there was no maliciousness in his tone. Just the desperation of a man trying to hang onto his last shred of control.
But you didn't shut up. Instead, you reached across the center console, your fingers lightly tracing the edge of his jaw before sliding to the nape of his neck. You slowly slid your hand into his hair, gently tugging at the short strands at the base of his head.
Jake let out a sharp breath, his shoulders tensing as a shiver visibly ran down his back.
"I'm serious," you teased. You brushed your thumb behind his ear, "I asked you what the rush is."
"You knew exactly what you were doing back there," he growled. His voice made butterflies form in your stomach. "You spent three hours trying to push me to the edge. And congratulations, you did it. So now were going to my house, and I'm going to take care of it."
The intensity of his words and how they were said so confidently sent anticipation flying through your bones. A silent understanding sat in the air of the truck.
You chose to reply with your hands, not your words. You let your hand move from the back of his neck to glide across his chest. You could feel the heavy thudding of his heart racing through the fabric of his shirt. Your fingers lingered there for a moment, and then you started moving your hand lower down his abdomen.
You tilted your head with a playful smirk. "Whoops."
Jake let out another ragged breath, his grip on the steering wheel getting even tighter as he tried to focus on the road. "You're testing every bit of my patience." He was fascinated at how well you were managing breaking him. "We're almost there. Just try to stay still for five minutes, alright?"
A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you lifted your hands in a mocking defeat. "Alright, alright. I'm keeping my hands to myself," you mumbled as you leaned back against the passenger seat.
He tried to hide it, but you caught the glance he shot you before you settled back into your seat for the last few minutes of the car ride.
The moment Jake turned into his driveway, he cut the headlights and unbuckled his seatbelt. He was out of his seat before the engine even completely turned off.
He moved with laser-focused concentration. He sped walked to your side of the truck and yanked your door open, remaining a southern gentleman even in times like this. But you were more surprised he didn't break the door off of the hinges.
He didn't speak one word. He reached up to wrap his hand around yours. His grip was firm, tight, and full of the last hours of built-up tension. He pulled you down from the cab of the truck with a force that caused your heart rate to spike.
You looked over at him in the moonlight. His expression was serious, not an ounce of anything else was on his face. He looked like a man on a mission. You on the other hand couldn't fight off the slow smile that was spreading across your face.
You knew exactly what was coming, and you weren't complaining one bit.
His hand never left yours as he led you up his porch steps. He unlocked the front door, opened it, and led you inside.
The second the door clicked shut, it was game over. Jake didn't turn on the lights. He barely set his keys down on the entryway table.
In the dark of his entryway, his hands found their way to your waist. With one swift motion, he spun you and pinned your back against the wall. Your breath left in a gasp, immediately replaced by his mouth crashing onto yours.
This kiss was different than the one before. The pent up anger in the parking lot turned into a pure, needy hunger. He kissed you until your knees almost gave out, his hands moving their way up to your hair. He had you exactly where he wanted you.
He pulled away from you for a second as he rested his forehead against yours in the dark.
"Do you have any idea how hard it was to watch you tonight?" his voice vibrated against your lips. He nipped at your bottom lip in between his words. "Sitting across from you while you touched him." He grabbed your hips and pulled you until they were against his, moving his head to your neck and biting lightly. "You did this to yourself, darlin. I've been trying to be good. I tried to take things slow, be respectful. But you pushed me right over the edge."
You let out a small gasp as his mouth moved up to your jawline, his fingers laying delicately against your skin. Even in this state, you couldn't help but lean into the teasing.
"Please, Seresin," you whispered. You tilted your head to give him better access as a smile fell on your lips. "You love a challenge. I'm just giving you one."
He didn't say another word as a growl escaped his chest.
Before you could process the sound that came from him, Jake slid his hands to the backs of your thighs and hoisted you up in one swift motion. You wrapped your legs around his waist as you buried your face into his neck, playing the same game he was.
He began walking blindly toward his bedroom down the hall, but for you, the teasing wasn't over. As he carried you, you nipped lightly at his neck, your teeth grazing his pulse point. Jake let out a hiss as the grip he had on your thighs tightened. You were going to have bruises on your legs in the morning, but that was the least of your concerns.
You moved your kips up to brush his earlobe, your teeth catching it in a playful bite. Your fingers that were once locked behind his neck started to slide down his shoulders. You let your nails dig into the muscles of his biceps as you held onto him. He was completely undone by your touch.
Jake kicked the bedroom door open and walked you to the bed. You expected him drop you down forcefully. Instead, he lowered you down slowly, his body following until he was hovering over you.
He leaned down closer to you, pinning his arms on each side of your head like he had earlier in the parking lot. His lips lightly brushed against your ear; his voice was low and rough.
"You wanted to give me a challenge, darlin?" he whispered. His breath was hot against your skin. He pulled back just enough to look you straight in the eyes. "Challenge accepted."
Once those words fell off of his tongue, the last of the playful banter you had kept up with this whole time crumbled. The teasing attitude you held on to all night disappeared in his bedroom. You didn't want to play a game, you didn't want to have banter. You wanted him.
You reached up to tightly grab his shirt and pulled him down to meet you. Jake didn't hesitate. His mouth immediately landed back on yours. His hands found their way to your waist as he pinned you to the mattress.
His tongue parted your lips as he took everything you allowed him to. You moaned into the kiss, your back arching against the bed as his body pressed down on yours.
"My god, you drive me crazy," he muttered against your lips.
He took a deep breath in, the energy in the room no longer something that could be described. The playful games earlier on in the evening turned into something more serious than you could have planned for.
Without breaking the kiss, Jake's grip shifted. He moved one of his hands from your waist and slid it down your thigh, hooking his fingers on the bend of your knee. He pulled your leg up around his hip, moving you right against him. He closed every inch between you two.
Your breath caught in your throat as you let out a light gasp into his mouth. Your hands moved from his shirt to his arms, tightening against his biceps as you attempted to ground yourself to him.
He moved his hand out from behind your knee to your hip, pressing you against him. The other hand that was securely on your waist finally moved, slowly trailing its way up to your face to tilt your head so he could deepen the kiss.
Just as it felt like you were both boiling over, he pulled back from your lips.
The seriousness on his face turned into a slow smile as he looked down at you. "You talk a lot of talk," he chuckled, "you think you can actually handle this?"
A blush formed on your cheeks as he tried to tease you. You let out a small laugh and smiled at him. Your eyebrow raised in amusement as you kept eye contact with him.
Your fingers moved back to the small hairs at the nape of his neck, something that had him undone earlier. You grip tightened ever so slightly, pulling him back down to be close to you again.
"Try me," you whispered against his mouth.
The words barely escaped your lips before he crashed back down onto you. The months of pretending you both didn't want this and the tension it brought was released in that moment.
He shifted his weight to fully come down over you, burying both of you into the mattress. His mouth moved lower, moving down your jaw, then trailing a path down your neck, to your collarbone.
The room blurred away, the only thing you could focus on was the sounds escaping your mouth as he lifted your shirt and continued moving his lips down your body.
-
The late hours of the night crept into the early hours of the morning. The moon was still glowing into the bedroom through his window, but you couldn't bother to worry about what time it was.
Jake is lying on his side, facing you as his eyes still remained intently locked into yours. The fierceness and jealousy that was in his expression earlier in the evening was gone. His hair was messy from your hands. His heartbeat finally came back to a normal rhythm after the night's events.
For the first time that night, and one of the first times you'd ever seen it in your life, his guard was down. It made him look softer than he'd ever let himself appear on base.
He reached out to you, his thumb tracing your collarbone. His touch was light compared to the grip he had on you earlier.
"You really played me tonight," he whispered honestly.
You turned your head on the pillow to face him. "I just wanted to see if you cared, Jake. You always make it seem like there's nothing that can get to you."
Jake’s hand paused its movements on your chest. He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head at himself. His eyes dropped to the mattress, then locked back into yours.
"Nothing usually can," he admitted quietly. He moved his hand up to cup your cheek. "But you do. Seeing you with Bradshaw tonight, it made me hurt in a way I didn't think was capable. I pretend a lot on base because I have to, I need to. But with you? I don't want to play Hangman. I just want to be me. I want this."
Shock rippled through your body. Hearing the words actually come out of his mouth made your chest flutter. Until Bradley had told you about Jake's feelings hours before, you had been completely oblivious to what he was feeling. To hear him say that he felt deeply about you shook you.
You didn't reply to his confession right away. You reached over to intertwine your fingers with his, laying your hands down against the sheets.
"I've wanted you for so long, Jake," you whispered. You looked straight into his eyes, letting the pure delight of the vulnerable moment take over. "I had no clue you felt the same until tonight."
Jake’s eyes widened slightly as a smile tugged at his lips. The heavy tension he was feeling lifted from his shoulders. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. His forehead rested against yours as he exhaled a breath he seemed to have been holding all night.
For the rest of the night, you were his. And you were going to continue to be as long as he had a say in the matter.
“What the hell are you doing here ?” Mickey asked, eyebrows raised as he saw you join the rest of the squad at their designed spot at the Hard Deck.
“What ?” You asked, “I can’t join my favorite coworkers for a bit of fun ?”
Reuben eyed you up and down, his surprised expression mimicking Mickey’s when he noticed you were in the same clothes you had left in for your date of the night.
“Was it that bad ?” He questioned, voice taking on a hint of empathy.
“It was okay,” you shrugged, lying through your teeth.
After the catastrophic evening you’d spent, the last thing you wanted was to expose to your coworkers just how bad and plainly sad your romantic and sex life had gotten over the past few years.
Jake let out a chuckle as he sinked a striped ball over by the pool table, “weren’t you supposed to spend the night at his place as well ? Poor guy must have not even know the clit existed for you to be here with us instead of getting laid.”
“Don’t be gross, Hangman.” Bradley scolded, watching him sink yet another ball.
“Not gross, just facts. So, what happened ?” Jake pressed.
Shifting on your feet, you debated on how to deliver the news. You definitely couldn’t say Jake was right, even if he were, admitting out loud such a thing was not a smart move, it never was with him. Alas, your short silence seemed enough for Jake to grip on and roll with.
“See ?” One outstretched hand pointed out to you, “listen, sweetheart, you know my generosity knows no bounds. My door is always open if you need a real man to show you a good time.”
You were about to retort something in hopes of shutting him up for good when—
“Please keep that door fucking closed and locked, for all of our sakes.” Natasha said behind you, seemingly coming back from the toilet. She looked at you quizzically when she spotted you, eyes raking up and down your dressed up form, “what are you doing here ?”
“Her date sucked ass,” Mickey answered for you.
Natasha made a sympathetic moue that didn’t even bother to hide how fake it was.
“I mean I don’t want to say I told you so but…”
“So don’t.” You pleaded, already embarrassed enough.
“He did seem a bit selfish in bed.”
Javy scoffed, “that’s not something you can see.”
“Sorry, Coyote, but it absolutely is,” Natasha doubled down., pickup up her beer and taking a sip, “your best friend is a prime example of it.” She pointed to Jake.
“Hey, what the fuck ?” Jake took offense, straightening back up from taking a shot,“I’m a very generous and selfless lover,” he stated, one hand covering his heart as if he was swearing and living by those words, “that’s why I was so very kindly offering my services to Viper over here.”
Natasha’s lips briefly curled in disgust before quickly stretching out in a smirk as she looked at you.
“Or you know, if you ever want to have a real good time, you could always finally shoot your shot with women.” She teasingly slurred, snaking a playful hand around your waist.
You swatted her hand away with a chuckle and tried to ignore the way your heartbeat had unreasonably picked up.
“Yeah, maybe one day,” you joked, hoping nobody would notice the strange strain in your voice.
“Well, you know who to call when that day comes,” she winked at you, grabbing a pool cue and leaning on the table, giving you an unintentional — or was it ? — view of her cleavage.
And no matter how loud you screamed in your head at your eyes not to go there, your gaze still inevitably landed on the swell of her breasts. How pretty they looked and sat against the fabric of her fitted tank top. You could even make out the faint outline of her nipples poking through when she straightened back up after sinking a ball, and you immediately averted your gaze.
“Phoenix, you have to stop believing you can turn every straight girl gay, it’s doing awful things to your ego,” Jake said, taking his turn leaning over the pool table.
“Excuse me, you’re the one talking about ego ?” She snickered.
“To be fair, remember that one girl you flirted with when we docked in Cannes during deployment two years ago ? She came out as a lesbian right after.” Mickey remarked.
Natasha pointed to him, visibly delighted by his intervention, “thank you Fanboy, for backing up that I am simply stating facts.”
Jake scoffed, shaking his head, but you barely heard any words that came out of his mouth after that.
Natasha was a lesbian.
It was known, widely. It wasn’t something she hid or made a big deal about. She never felt the need to outright and explicitly spell it out to people, mostly because she thought she quite looked the part but also because she didn’t like the fact that most people seemed to think it was something that needed to be announced, straight people didn’t need to proclaim their sexuality, so why should she ?
Still, if Natasha thought her attraction to women was quite obvious, it still felt like a shock to you when three years prior to this, when you had just been admitted as the newest member of their already well knitted squad, she had casually mentioned an ex.
“Oh my god, my ex used to do this all the time ! She was stuck on the idea that—“
Your brain had immediately latched on to one single word, and you never knew such a short assemblage of letters was enough to somehow rewire your entire world view.
‘She’.
You had felt something in your chest then, like your heart contracting uncomfortably in your rib cage, and you didn’t like the feeling of it if you were honest. You hadn’t liked it at all.
But you forced yourself to show none of it, because what even was this reaction ? You didn’t want Natasha to think you were uncomfortable, or worse, somehow disgusted by her casual admission. You had plenty of friends who were themselves attracted to women, whether they were bisexual, lesbian, pansexual… so what the actual fuck was going on with you ?
You simply nodded as she continued to tell her story, hoping she wouldn’t notice the absolute turmoil of emotion her words had caused within you. Eventually, you had gained the courage to engage the subject, if only to show her that you were totally cool with it and that whatever weird reaction you might have let slip had nothing to do with who she was.
“So,” you started and immediately cleared your throat when your voice came out strangely croaky, “are you also into men or just women ?” You asked, opting for casualness but completely failing as your voice ever so slightly wavered on the word ‘women’.
Thankfully, Natasha didn’t seem to notice the unusual and strange behaviour you were exhibiting.
“Oh no just women, thank God for that,” she chuckled, “you ?”
She hadn’t meant anything by it, truly, she was simply returning the question, one she personally deemed harmless. But it sill landed on you as a shock — the second of the night you had realised uneasily — and it made your heart skip a beat as you replied what was the undeniable truth, your undeniable truth.
“Oh I’m straight.”
That day Natasha had simply hummed, quickly moving on to other matters and you had been so, so thankful for that.
The years following, you and her had grown to be close friends, and who wouldn’t ? Being the only two women pilot in an elite Naval Aviation squad was bound to strengthen the ties. Never again had you felt this weird sensation of contraction in your chest whenever Natasha mentioned her sexuality or the women she’d been with, and you were glad, because it meant it had been a fluke. Just a weird, inexplicable, and one time thing kind of body reaction. You had both even fallen into the depth of friendship where you’d pretend flirt with each other, making the rest of the guys very confused about which way you swung.
“I’m straight,” you assured them almost on a weekly basis.
“Then why the fuck do you act gay as fuck with Phoenix ?” Jake would interject, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s very hot to watch,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you and you made a gagging sound, “but you ought to admit it’s a little weird.”
“Oh my god, Hangman, it’s just for fun ! Don’t ruin it, please,” Natasha would defend you.
Before Jake could get another word in, Mickey would chime in.
“Yeah, it’s just something people do, I pretend I’m gay with Payback when we go out.”
“Yeah but that’s because It’s you and you are fucking weird, Fanboy, nothing about you surprises me anymore.”
Natasha would often jokingly — half jokingly ?— tell you to try women, that unless you actually had sex with one, how could you know for sure you didn’t like it ? One time you had retorted that she should try men then, just to be sure. She had casually replied that she had actually hooked up with a man once, and concluded it wasn’t for her. That had shut you up quickly.
Jake’s voice rising in volume got you out of your thoughts.
“That’s bullshit, having sex for six hours in a row is physically impossible. What, you actually think I would believe this ?”
Natasha let out a laugh, “that’s true Hangman, I don’t know what you want me to tell you. You know, women don’t really need a refractory period, so as long as you both want it, you can just keep going.”
Jake simply scoffed for what felt like the millionth time tonight, and Natasha saw the perfect opportunity to push harder. She walked up to him, her cue stick still in hand and rubbed his shoulder, as if comforting him while her face took on an empathetic expression.
“It’s okay, buddy, I know that if you men last longer than ten minutes it’s a time to put in the records books.”
Jake simply looked at her, and she seemed absolutely delighted to notice he didn’t have an answer ready and loaded like he usually did.
“And you guys always think penetration is the main event when it’s not even in the top three things you can do in bed,” she pressed on.
“And how would you know ?” Jake questioned once he had finally gotten his voice back, clearly offended his dick wasn’t considered the centerpiece of sex.
She didn’t even dignify him with a response, simply choosing to maintain his daring gaze with a smirk and a raised brow, “you have so much to learn of this world, Bagman.” She finally said in a condescending tone.
Natasha carelessly handed off her cue stick to Javy and made a beeline for you, “now let’s get you drunk, gorgeous, you need to forget about tonight.”
You couldn’t have agreed more.
The drinks kept magically appearing in your hands, you weren’t sure exactly who was refilling them with such efficiency but you were happy that with every sip you took, the memory of your disastrous date was slowly leaving your brain, drowning in the alcohol you were rapidly swallowing.
The night passed in a blur. The only clear things you could make out was Natasha’s voice in your ear, whispering things you couldn’t quite understand but that still made you giggle uncontrollably, her hands gripping your forearm when she laughed or squeezing your waist as she walked behind you… You weren’t sure anymore if it was her closeness or the alcohol making you feel so warm.
When she drove you home, you found yourself feeling disappointed the night was ending. She helped you out of the car, helped you inside your building and accompanied you all the way to your apartment door on the sixth floor.
“Thanks, Nat,” you slurred, exhaustion and alcohol weakening your speech as she was opening your door with your keys, she had stayed perfectly sober to keep an eye on you.
“No problem, sweetheart.”
A swarm of butterflies seemed to take off as violently as Super Honerts in your stomach at the nickname. Natasha was the type of person to regularly use pet names and terms of endearments for her close friends. You had always liked it, it always made you feel strangely warm inside, all gooey like. It made you feel special.
“Thank God we have the day off tomorrow huh ?” She chuckled, careful to not speak too loudly in the quiet hallway.
“Yep.”
Helping you inside, she took you to your bedroom, made you sat on your bed. She kneeled down in front of you and carefully started to take off the pretty heels you had chosen to wear. The visual made your head spin even more than the intoxicating amount of alcohol you had consumed.
“Are you gonna be okay ?” She asked, voice so gentle you wanted to live in its embrace forever.
You simply nodded lazily and extended your arms to her still kneeling form. Natasha smiled fondly and instantly indulged you, rising up to wrap your her arms around you.
Her smell immediately engulfed you entirely, something sweet and airy that reminded you of the beach on a bright and early spring morning. You could also faintly make out the sweaty and alcohol dripped scent of the Hard Deck from her spending all night at the bar. But instead of putting you off like it probably should have, you found yourself taking what you hoped was a discreet whiff. The combination of fragrance went straight to your brain, putting it into this strange and overly relaxed state, similar to when the alcohol had first started entering your body a few hours ago.
The feeling of her breasts pressing against yours made goosebumps rise up along your arms. She felt so soft. Unconsciously, or perhaps very much intentionally, you squeezed her harder, in a little perverted aim to feel more of her.
“Goodnight, baby.” She almost purred when she pulled away, nearly making you whine out in disappointment, but the pet name quickly acted as a soothing balm over your wound.
“Goodnight.”
You watched her exit your bedroom and keenly listened to her steps throughout your apartment, you listened as the door opened and finally closed behind her, leaving you all alone.
Your bedroom felt cold now, without Natasha’s presence to warm up the space like she usually did. Plopping down on the bed with a huff, you found it surprising that Morpheus hadn’t yet taken you into his warm embrace. Instead of the much needed coma inducing sleep you were expecting, flashes of Natasha took your mind hostage — or was it really a hostage situation if you didn’t mind it ?
You had always admired Natasha, that was a given, how could you not ? She was the literal and ethereal definition of a strong, independent woman, the kind every little girl looked up to and aspired to be.
Though sometimes you had to admit you acted in very strange ways around her, usually, you tried hard to not dwell too much on it because otherwise you would over analyze and pick your mind apart over every little interaction you’ve ever had.
You thought about the first time you had shared the women’s communal shower with her. Being in the military, it wasn’t new for you to shower with other women, it was the norm. Something you had to forcibly start doing when entering the Naval Academy. Anxious at first, to so casually expose your naked body to any possible judgmental stares, the feeling had progressively disappeared over the years, when you realised that nobody cared. You were all women, aware of what bodies looked like, so really you had learned there was nothing to be scared or shy about. You had even found it to be a quite relaxing moment, away from the overwhelming majority of men that flew within the US Navy.
But relaxation was thrown out the window the first time Natasha had casually undressed herself in front of you, mid conversation, to go wash herself under the warm jets. She’d been talking to you about some apparent crazy stunt Jake had pulled — once again, she had insisted on that fact — during training. But Jake wasn’t really on your mind at the moment, your brain was being sent into overdrive by the sheer vision of her.
Almost as if on autopilot, you undressed as well and followed her in the communal shower, where she was rising off under a jet while continuing to complain about your fellow squad mate. Your eyes kept quickly flicking over to her, in an irrepressible urge, a need to see more of her.
Natasha stood next to you, apparently completely oblivious to your inner crisis happening just a few centimeters away from her. Her eyes were closed as she let the warm water cascade down her body and relax her muscles. Her breasts sat prettily on her chest and your stomach churned at the sight of her perky nipples.
“I don’t even know how he has all these women at his feet, I mean I can understand that he’s hot, I don’t really see it but I can admit it, but as soon as he opens his stupid mouth they should be running away…”
Natasha’s eyes were closed as she kept on talking. She wetted her long black, letting her hands run comfortably down her body and you nearly let out a very embarrassing and inexplicable sound when her fingers ever so slightly brushed her breasts and caught on her erect nipples.
You felt as if liquid lava had been poured inside your lower stomach, your whole entire skin was burning and it certainly wasn’t because of the lukewarm water from the base’s showers. Your gaze continued to travel down on its own, feeling as though you didn’t really have control over where your eyes wanted to roam, stare so intense, as if intent on trying to graze her with a look. You followed the curve of her sternum, down to the faint outlines of her abs, her hips…
Your breath imperceptibly hitched when your eyes landed on the space between her legs. Her pubis was covered in short, jet black pubic hair that were neatly trimmed, and when you felt some weird and down right depraved disappointment when you realised the folds of her pussy were hidden by her thighs, your head snapped away, shame and guilt eating away at your insides and replacing the enjoyable, and leg weakening feeling of warmth the acute observation of Natasha had given you.
What the actual fuck were you doing ?
That day, you hadn’t stop thinking about that weird episode in the shower.
Over the years, despite the guilt and the perversion of it all, you hadn’t ever stopped looking at Natasha. Prying eyes raking over her frame every time you thought she wasn’t looking. Whether in the shower, on the tarmac in her flight suit, or at the Hard Deck when she was wearing those low neckline tank tops that pushed her breasts together and made, ever so subtly, apparent the outline of her nipples. It was a habit you found hard to shake, but to made it easier on your conscience you had reduced it to envy. Envy, and perhaps a little healthy jealousy you would say.
Natasha was gorgeous, truly. From the refined traits of her delicate face to the well sculpted and taken care of muscles of her body, there wasn’t an inch of her that wasn’t beautiful. So yeah, if you looked a little too long at her naked breasts in the shower, it was because you envied her, wished yours would be as pretty and sit as nicely as hers. And if you happened to catch an unconventionally extensive look at her lips, it was because they looked good, so soft… Her hands, delicate but strong at the same time, looked like they were well designed to… to hold a control stick…?
And if sometimes, very rarely, you wondered how her perfect tits would feel in your hands, well, you had simply decided it was nobody’s business. Strangely enough, you had also decided it was none of yours either.
When your drunk brain, whether still drunk from the alcohol or now drunk from these thoughts about your squad mate you weren’t sure, finally let you go to sleep, it was a restless one. Filled with images of her.
Waking up was rough, to say the least. Your head was pounding, and an immediate wave of dizziness hit you as soon as you tried to sit up.
Yeah, you were never doing this again. Or… well, at least not until the next time you’d hook up with a guy and it ended up making you miserable instead of relaxed and euphoric like good sex was supposed to make you feel.
Flopping back down on your pillow, careful not to worsen your headache, a loud knock on your door startled you.
“Oh my fucking god,” you groaned into your sheets, seriously debating on getting up to go get the door.
You were fully ready to go back to sleep when the person knocked again, louder this time.
“Open up, bitch, I’ve got breakfast.” Natasha’s voice traveled all the way to your bedroom.
Weirdly, the sound of her was apparently enough to make you forget about your dizziness as you got up and hastily made your way to the door, heart beating perhaps a bit too loud as it should have been simply greeting a friend.
Opening up the door, you were met with Natasha’s dazzling smile. Her hair was up and she was wearing another one of her goddamn tank top, and you didn’t know if it was a curse or a blessing for you that she loved wearing them so much. She was holding up a paper bag from which came a heavenly smell, one that was slowly waking up your upset stomach from the alcohol. Before you could even say anything, Natasha made her way inside, walking right past you, gifting you with a quick whiff of her sweet smell.
She put the paper bag on your small coffee table and went straight for the cabinets in your kitchen, getting out a pill of ibuprofen and filling up a glass of water before making her way back to you and handing both items to you.
“Drink this.”
Chuckling at her authoritative tone, you took the pill and the glass, “yes, ma’am.”
Taking a sip, you missed the way Natasha’s eyes seemed to ever so slightly glaze over, suppressing a smile by poking the inside of her cheek with her tongue. What you did notice though, was the way it had felt to call her that, way too good. Jesus, the military really had messed you up, you thought.
You also missed the way a teasing glint went alight in her gaze as she watched you diligently swallow the ibuprofen pill.
“Good girl,” she purred, walking past you, giving your waist a playful squeeze on the way as she started to set up breakfast in your living room.
You forced yourself to chuckle out loud, trying to sound amused and not like those two casual words had rewritten your entire DNA. A huge flush hit your entire body, making you feel way too hot all of a sudden, weird, Californian heatwaves weren’t supposed to hit yet at this time of year…
Hyper aware of everything happening in your body, the way your clothes sticked uncomfortably to your skin, the way your heart hadn’t slow down its frenetic rhythm ever since you had opened the door, the way the place between your legs kept getting warmer and warmer…
You finally joined her over with the awkward and confusing sensation of your panties sticking to your progressively wet folds. Yeah, you were really craving a good fuck, that was all. Your brain was overwhelmed with horniness, not thinking straight, which surely explained all these strange feelings… right ?
You plopped down on your couch next to her as she immediately handed you a plate full of pancakes, your mouth watered and your heart swelled at the sight.
“You’re the best.”
‘I love you’ was on the tip of your tongue, something you had told her casually numerous times. She was your friend, friends loved each other, so why did it feel so awkward to say it now ?
“I know,” she simply replied with a smile, biting a piece of pancake off her fork.
Conversation flowed easily after that, thank God. You were back in your usually rhythm, a familiar one that brought a pleasant warm to your chest.
You were complaining about how Cyclone had been on your ass lately when the sounds coming from the tv, turned on for some background noise, stopped you short.
The two main characters of some shady tv show were getting it on, and that was putting it lightly to say they were full fucking like wild rabbits on the HD screen of your TV.
Natasha made a disgusted noise, prompted simply by the view of heterosexual inter course, you laughed before letting out a big sigh.
“I really, really need to get properly laid. Nat, I’m so fucking horny all the time, it’s becoming a seriously urgent issue.”
She simply looked at you for a moment, an unreadable expression flashing in her eyes.
“Shit, maybe I’ll actually end up taking Hangman’s offer if this keeps going like that.”
That seemed to wake her up.
“Yeah, hell no. You’re not doing that.”
“Well I might need to at one point you know, I physically cannot keep going on like that. It’s actually becoming damaging to my mental wellbeing.”
She paused, putting her pancake plate away on the coffee table.
“If you really wanted to get laid properly, you could always try women.”
“Nat…”
“Hey, it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to. I’m just saying, any woman could take way better care of you than fucking Hangman. You just have to have an open mind.”
Her dark eyes were boring into yours, not letting you escape her stare and you felt yourself squirm under her prying gaze.
“Does ‘any woman’ include you ?” You asked chuckling, the joking tone you used leaving a bitter taste in your mouth for a second.
A smirk stretched Natasha’s lips as she snaked a flirty hand onto your thigh, giving it a squeeze.
“You know it does, gorgeous.”
You almost jerked your thigh away from her touch from how much the casual contact ignited such a strong fire in your lower stomach. She was sitting so close to you, her thumb rubbing small circles on your clothed skin, she smelled so good, and fuck her nipples were peaking through that goddamn tank top again…
You flicked from her eyes to her lips without anything you could do to prevent it, like her mouth was a magnet, attracting you with the force of physics you simply could not resist. Natasha’s smirk widened, raising a small, inquisitive brow.
“Sweetheart,” she tried to grab your attention, voice as soft as a murmur, “is there something you wanna ask me ?”
Your chest was heaving with each breath you took, it felt as if your whole skin was burning as your eyes went back up to her eyes. Something warm bloomed in your lower stomach at the way she was looking at you, her hand slid higher on your leg, her fingers brushing your inner thigh and getting dangerously close to the space between you legs that was now almost painfully throbbing in your panties. Her question barely registered in your mind, the word ‘sweetheart’ had taken hostage all your cognitive abilities.
“Baby ?” She gently prompted, an amused smile replacing her self assured smirk, “I asked you something.”
Oh fuck.
All doubts, deep rooted denial and inhibitions went out the window. Your brain was clouded by a pleasurable fog, one that went by the name of Natasha.
A very embarrassing sound escaped you without anything you could do about it, like a little pathetic wine, a desperate call for her to get closer. Natasha bit her lip, eyes becoming progressively more half lidded. She squeezed your tender flesh.
“That’s a very pretty sound, sweetheart.” She cooed, the praise seeping into your mind, melting you from the inside out, “but I need words. Can you do that for me ? Tell me what you want ?”
Her hand was becoming more daring along your thigh but her body remained a respectful distance away from yours, it made you ache, it felt unbearable, wrong even for her to be for far away from you.
“I want you,” you managed to speak up in a breath, voice strained and pleading, “I want you so bad, Nat, please.”
Natasha’s cheeks took on the prettiest flush, “I always knew you’d beg so pretty, sweetheart.” Her hand left your thigh to settle on your waist while the other cupped your cheek, “do you want me to kiss you ?”
You nodded eagerly, not sure you could handle another second of her lips not being on yours, but she tsked softly.
“Use your words like a good girl, mmh ? I need to hear you say it, gorgeous.”
“Fuck,” you whined out, dizzy with sheer desire, you probably would have been embarrassed if the only thought plaguing your mind at the moment wasn’t her tongue deep down in your throat, “I want you to kiss me so fucking bad, Nat, please don’t make me wait any longer.”
“Awww, baby,” she cooed in a faux sympathetic tone, “don’t worry, I’m gonna take such good care of you.”
Natasha finally leaned in and her lips collided with yours with a gentleness that contrasted greatly with the fire igniting your insides. The contact seemed to unlock a floodgate of sensation within you and a small moan escaped from the back of your throat, one that undeniably testified to just how much you loved this. Her tongue gently probed at the entrance of your mouth, as if asking for permission, and you easily gave it to her, opening up your lips to let her in. Natasha’s tongue met yours and you could faintly taste the maple syrup she lathered her pancakes in only minutes prior. She lightly sucked on your tongue and you didn’t even know it was possible but somehow you felt the sensation explode deep within your lower stomach. Natasha pulled away and you hadn’t even realized you were running out of breath, too eager to taste more of her. She looked nothing short of heavenly. A few strands of hair had escaped her bun, her face was flushed with the most beautiful shade of red you had ever been given the chance to see, her lips were shiny with both of your spit and ever so slightly swollen.
“How did that feel ?” She asked, eyes flicking between your mouth and your eyes.
Words couldn’t have possibly described what that had felt like. Unable to find your voice, you leaned in again, almost lurching at her and your mouth met hers a bit more forcefully than intended. You felt her lips stretch out into a coy smile into the kiss and that only fueled the desire burning in your veins. She hummed against you, the sound resonating within you and now making you hyper aware of all the slick accumulating in your panties.
“Fuck, I love how eager you are,” she whispered against your lips, mouth never leaving yours.
In one swift movement, Natasha swung one of her leg across both of yours and suddenly, she was on top of you, her weight sitting down on your lap. Your breath hitched into the kiss, a mix of surprise and sheer horniness. You felt as if your internal temperature had just risen by a thousand degrees. Her weight pressing down on you felt nothing short of perfect, and you felt another string of slick get helplessly pushed out of you at the knowledge that the only thing separating her pussy from yours were a few mere items of clothing.
Having her on top of you felt feverish. For a second you were weirdly brought back to the first time you had ever watched porn, your brain waking up to something entirely new, maybe a little bit scary and yet so enticing and exciting you couldn’t look away, your sense awakening for the first time. It wasn’t your first time now, but it sure felt like it was. Even the briefest of Natasha’s touch was enough to have you moan louder than the jackhammering of the guy you had hooked up with the night before.
“You can touch me you know,” she whispered in your ear, licking your lobe and lightly biting down on it, sending a shiver down your spine.
It was only then that you realized your arms had been uselessly sticking to your sides, like touching her was something out of a dream and not something you were actually allowed to do. When Natasha pulled away, she seemed to decipher the conflict, the hesitation in your eyes. She smiled softly and quickly pecked your lips before taking your hands in hers, and oh so slowly guiding them to the hem of her tank top, slipping right underneath.
Her skin was warm, burning even, and it felt good knowing that maybe you were affecting her even just a third of the way she was affecting you. You watched, mesmerized, as the bumps that your pair of hands made underneath the fabric traveled up her stomach, which dipped at the brush of your fingertips. How fucking cute, you thought. Her ribs and… your eyes widened when it finally clicked into your slowed down horny brain where the final destination was. Natasha let out an amused chuckled above you as her hands snaked down to hold your wrist and guide your hand to the one place you had been in denial about obsessing over for the past three years.
A desperate moan left your lips as soon as your hands made contact with her breasts, they felt divine and fit perfectly into your palms, like they were fucking made for you, your brain supplied.
“Yeah,” Natasha encouraged you, voice just a tiny bit lower, clouded by lust, “always knew you were a boobs girl.” Her sentence ended in a pleasured hum when you squeeze her tender flesh.
“What do you mean ?” You asked breathily, her words somehow registering into your mind.
Her smirk widened, pupils dilated as she looked down at you.
“What ? You seriously thought I wouldn’t notice you sneaking peeks at my tits ?” She leaned in, stealing kisses off you as she spoke, “you’re not exactly discreet, baby. I didn’t even liked these tank tops that much until I noticed that you very much loved them.”
A fleeting embarrassment made its way through the fog clouding your brain, “you have amazing boobs, Nat,” you whined, as if that explained every perverted look you had stole of her.
She made a low, appreciative sound in her throat.
“It’s okay, no need to be shy now, sweetheart. They’re all yours,” she encouraged you, arching a little into your touch.
This last sentence shouldn’t have made you shiver as much as it did. You squeezed them a little tighter, loving the weight on your palms. You let out a choked out moan when your thumbs rubbed over her nipples and you couldn’t believe you were feeling this as strongly as if she were the one touching you.
“Fuck,” she breathed out, “keep doing that.”
“You like that ?” You asked, voice shaky and betraying your sheer need to please her.
She hummed as her hips began to slowly grind against yours. The sensation sent a spark of electricity through you as you continued to grope and massage her breasts, your thumbs circling her perky nipples. When you got enough confidence to try and be a bit daring, you slightly pulled on her erect buds, perhaps a bit more forcefully than intended. You were about to apologize but the moan Natasha let out shut you up.
God, What a beautiful sound. One that only sunk you deeper into your daze, with one thought screaming at the forefront of your mind : please her, make her feel good.
Natasha’s hips sped up a bit, shamelessly rutting her clothed pussy against yours and you didn’t even dare to imagine the state of your panties at the moment. You watched, mesmerized, as her eyes closed, focusing on the sensation, one of her hands met yours through the fabric of her tank top, urging you to squeeze harder.
A sudden urge took a hold of you and the words were out of your mouth almost as soon as your mind had thought them.
“Can I take it off ?”
She pretended to think it over for a painfully long, agonizing second.
“Only because you asked so nicely,” she purred before grabbing the hem of her tank top, looking you in the eyes and oh so slowly pulling it off.
Her upper body slowly revealed itself to you, the fabric getting caught on her breasts and giving the slightest bounce when it finally passes over. In one final, swift movement, her top was off, thrown disregarded on your couch.
Natasha sat there, warm and soft above you with her naked breasts right in your face.
“Fuck, Nat, you’re beautiful,” you marveled with transcendent honesty, because there were simply no other words for it.
The tip of her ears visibly reddened and you found it so endearing that a person as confident as her could be flustered by such a simple, but so deeply true, compliment. Emboldened by her reaction, you leaned in, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses along her collarbone. Natasha let out a shaky breath as her grinding resumed, you made your way down, letting your spit coat the swell of her breast. You licked at the valley between her breasts, the scent of her skin filling up your nostrils. God, you felt like a fucking dog in heat.
A moan vibrated in your throat when you finally closed your mouth around one of her nipples.
“Oh shit…” Natasha breathily moaned.
Your tongue swirled around her erect bud as your hand toyed with the other.
“Fuck, baby, that’s so good,” her hand came up behind your head to grab a fistful of your hair, gently holding you in place right where she wanted you.
Sucking on the bud one last time, you switched to her other breast. Your hands tracing down her body, landing on her ass, squeezing her cheeks appreciatively as you helped her grind herself on you. After making her whimper with a graze of your teeth you pulled back to look at her tits, nipples all puffy and swollen from your work and the visual made your pussy ache. No longer the pleasant tingling of being turned on but a true ache, an almost painful one at feeling so pent up and yet so untouched.
Natasha pulled you out of your admiration when she took your hand and guided it down her body, pushing past the waistband of her pants, past the waistband of her underwear and you gasped when your shaky fingers made contact with her core.
Fuck, she was wet. More than that, she was absolutely dripping. And you could feel the dizzying heat radiating off her pussy as your fingertips ghosted over her engorged folds.
“Let’s move to your bedroom, sweetheart,” she seductively whispered, akin to a siren luring you underwater, “there’s not enough space on this couch for what I want to do to you.”
She stood up from your lap, extended a hand out to you. You eagerly took it and almost tumbled to the ground trying to stand on weak knees and shaky legs.
“Careful, baby,” Natasha cooed, her hands grabbing you at the waist, keeping you steady on your feet.
You caught her lips in a sloppy kiss, finding that her mouth hadn’t touch yours in too long.
Stumbling through your apartment, you finally made it to your bedroom. Of course, Natasha had been there numerous times, but this time the context was so special that the vision of her in such an intimate part of your home made you swoon. Still making out, she blindly pushed you towards your bed, your hand coming up to take out her raven hair from her bun. Pulling away, you admired the way her hair framed her face and fell upon her naked breasts as Natasha gently pushed you onto the soft sheets.
Immediately pulling her with you, she landed on top of you with a giggle, and your mouth immediately latched on to one of her nipples again. The sound of her laugh melted into a moan at the contact of your wet, hot mouth.
“Baby, fuck. Sucking my tits so good…”
“Nat,” you called out to her, letting her sensitive bud go, “can we…”
You hesitated on the words and how to articulate the desire and need that was throbbing under your skin. Your whole body was aching for her, in desperate need to feel her close, feel her right there.
“Yeah ?” She encouraged you, eyes dilated but kind and patient as they gazed down at you.
Taking a shaky breath, you tried, “can we do that thing lesbians do ?”
You immediately cringed as soon as the words left your mouth. For fuck’s sake, what even was that ?! That ‘thing lesbians do’ ? God, If Natasha wasn’t walking out on you right now it would be a miracle.
“Gorgeous, can you look at me ?” She gently asked and you hadn’t even realized you had closed your eyes in fear of her reaction.
Very slowly, you peeled your eyes open, immediately landing on her fond expression. A mix of amusement, lust and softness.
“That thing lesbians do,” she slowly repeated, pretending to think about it as you groaned out in embarrassment, “are you talking about tribbing, sweetheart ?”
You were, you absolutely were.
Funnily enough, Natasha had been the one to teach you about tribbing years ago, when you had subtly inquired about lesbian sex. You had been hung up on her words and explanations then and now there was nothing more you wished than to share that with her, be that close to her.
You nodded, not trusting your voice to say anything wise.
Natasha hummed, “yeah ? You wanna rub pussies, baby ? Want to feel my clit on yours, all wet and slippery ?”
“Yes,” you so quickly agreed, her words only deepening your desire to do it, “yes, yes please Nat.”
Begging came to you surprisingly quickly when Natasha was involved, you noticed, and you weren’t sure if it made you more ashamed or turned on.
She hummed again, “I guess that can be arranged,” she teasingly conceded, her head leaning in to place fleeting kisses on your jaw, nipping at your skin and immediately soothing it with her tongue.
Her lips made her way down your neck, and you whimpered when she sucked at a particularly sensitive spot.
“You sound so good, sweetheart,” she praised in the crook of your neck, “so responsive, moaning so sweetly for me.”
When her mouth arrived at the neckline of your t-shirt, she looked up, silently asking for your permission and you almost knocked into her from how fast you sat up to tear it off with shaky hands.
She watched with half lidded eyes as you lied back down on your pillow, waiting for her mouth to set alight your skin again. Her gaze fell upon your naked breasts, not for the first time — she did her own share of peeking in the showers — and she made an appreciative noise in her throat.
“Fuck, look at you, baby. You’re so beautiful,” she marveled, letting her hands scoop up your boobs, “nipples so fucking perky for me…”
“Fuck…” you breathed out when her warm mouth engulfed one of your nipples, the other enduring the pulling and pinching of her fingers.
You were pretty sure your pants were completely soaked through, and there was a part of you that genuinely thought you would actually die if Natasha didn’t make her way down south immediately.
Your hand made its way through her hair, grabbing a fistful of it and gently tugging, trying to ease the loving assault on your nipples that was only worsening the ache in your panties.
“Please can we do it now ? I need you so fucking bad,” you whined out.
Natasha pulled back, gently brushing some hair away from your face that had stuck to your sweaty forehead.
“I know you do, sweetheart.” She purred, letting her nails drag down your stomach, all the way to the waistband on your pants, “ but see you are so used to men going straight to the point, you don’t know what it’s like to take your time,” she spoke, now toying with your zipper as you pathetically whined out again, your hips pushing towards her on their own, she chuckled, “I promise you won’t be complaining in a minute, sweet girl.”
She slowly took off your pants, and were met with the sight of your soaked through panties, clinging to your wet core.
“Oh baby,” she cooed, a hand coming up to pull on one of her nipple, as if to release some tension, “look at you,” she traced a finger down your clothed slit and you violently shuddered.
You made a helpless noise as Natasha continued to probe and poke at your covered core, making more slick leak out of you.
You yelped when she suddenly brought her face to your burning core, her nose touching your clit through your panties as she inhaled, taking in the sweet scent of your arousal. This probably should have made you embarrassed, but you pressed yourself a little closer to her, loving the way she seemed to need you as desperately as you needed her.
“You smell so fucking good, sweetheart. Been dreaming about this for so long.” She groaned, voice a bit raspier than before and you swore you felt the vibration of it in your entire body.
You weren’t sure how this was possible but your legs were already shaking a little bit.
Natasha took off your panties, savoring the way the fabric tried to clung to your wet core. At the same time, she took her own pants and underwear off and you physically clenched in anticipation. Natasha must have seen the hope lighting up your eyes because she chuckled softly.
“Not yet, baby.”
Her hands rubbed your lower stomach before getting down, purposely avoiding your pussy to affectionately squeeze at your inner thighs.
“Just let me get to know this pretty pussy first, yeah ?”
You simply nodded, suddenly feeling the need to obey her every word, please her with your submission. And your heart fluttered at the same time as your empty walls when she smiled, visibly appreciative of your sweet behavior. She leaned in, stealing a gentle kiss from your lips.
“That’s it, Just relax and let me make you feel good.”
“Yes,” you dumbly agreed, voice a bit shaky from the sheer intensity of your arousal.
Natasha squeezed your thighs affectionately, letting her nails trace the shape of your cunt, not even touching your folds, just the outside of it, making your legs twitch from the tickling sensation.
The long awaited first contact made you jolt just before making you moan out embarrassingly loud for such a fleeting touch. Both her thumbs were working your outer lips, gently rubbing the engorged tissues up and down. Natasha scooped up some of the slick that was profusely leaking out of you to bring it back up your core, slathering your pussy with it, she took a second to admire you.
“Your pussy is so pretty baby, most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, fuck.”
You saw one of her hands briefly rub in between her legs, as if the sight of you was too much to bear and she desperately needed some relief from it.
“Sweetheart,” she spoke in a breath, “I’m gonna fuck you so good.”
She had a little feral tone in her voice that pushed you deeper into the pleasurable daze you seemed to be in ever since her lips first kissed yours. You watched, legs open wide and leaning on your elbows, mesmerized, as she lowered herself, her back arching so beautifully, pushing up her hips and ass in the air. It strangely felt like an out of body experience, seeing her face purposefully get so close to the most intimate part of you. It was like seeing her get down on her knees for someone else and before some weird disappointment could hit you about realizing this might be all a dream, the sensation of her mouth on your cunt brought you right back within yourself.
Wet warmth immediately engulfed you, pleasure throbbing in your veins, just underneath your skin. And she hadn’t even aimed for your clit, no, not at all. Natasha was busing making out with your shiny folds, kissing your outer and inner lips, licking in between them, and really you didn’t even know you had nerves endings in those places.
“Nat…” you mewled, “that’s so good, so so good…” you slurred out, already drunk on the few crumbs of pleasure she had given you.
Her tongue explored every inch of your pussy, except your aching clit, that she made a clear point to avoid. You had thought about complaining, whining, begging, but despite your swollen bud feeling neglected, everything just felt so good you didn’t want to take the risk of her stopping.
“Yeah ? You like having your pussy ate by someone who actually knows what they’re doing ?”
“Yes, yes I do, fuck… oh fuck Nat !”
Her tongue had moved to focus on your entrance, not breaching past, but just toying with the overly sensitive tissue that adorned your hole. She was tracing circles, or… were these stars ? Hearts…? Didn’t matter, it felt like being the canvas of the most skilled painter of all time.
“You taste like fucking heaven, baby.” She spoke, wet lips brushing against you with every word.
“Do I ?” You questioned, half delirious, not conscious of the words leaving out your mouth.
She only smirked, her assault on your entrance stoping. Perched on your elbow, the carnal look in her eyes made you clench around nothing.
Wordlessly, she leaned down again, flattened her tongue and licked from the bottom of your hole, through your folds and finally, finally, reached your clit. She licked the underside with a pressure that made you see stars and continued to cover the top of it, the force of her tongue ever so slightly pulling your hood back. Your head fell on your pillows, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let out a sound you didn’t know you were capable of making.
Natasha’s lips locked around your clit, sucking on it.
“Yeah, you do.” She confirmed.
She returned to her ministrations. Sucking on your bundle of nerves, giving it kitten licks, very gently letting her teeth graze it… you couldn’t guess what was coming each time and it was driving you wild.
Both your hands found refuge in her jet black hair. Your hips began to move on their own accord, rutting against Natasha’s face.
“Yeah, that’s it, gorgeous. Ride my face, does that feel good ?”
You made an affirmative noise mixed with a desperate moan.
Panting heavier, you could feel the coil in your lower stomach getting tighter and tighter with each pass of her tongue on your clit.
“Yeah ? You need anything baby ?” She questioned, mouth coming off you for a few seconds.
You suddenly realised that you had been calling out her name over and over again, in a desperate need for her to know just how good she was being to you. You wanted to explain it to her, tell her every little thing you were feeling with articulate words, but all that came out was—
“Natasha…”
Yet another drawn out moan of her name. But Natasha seemed delighted, thrilled.
“Yeah I know, sweetheart, I know. Your little pussy is feeling so fucking good right now, isn’t she ?”
Panting heavier, your legs actually began to shake around her head, slowly trying to close in as Natasha kept them firmly wide open.
Standing dangerously close to the edge, every fiber in your body was preparing for the intense crash of hormones, but you pulled on her hair, trying to get her off you.
“Nat, please wait.” You managed through labored breath.
She immediately let up. Her brown, lust dilated eyes immediately filled with worry as she inspected you, looking for any sign of distress on you.
“Shit, I’m sorry, are you okay ?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you, it’s just— well I was about to cum.”
Her eyebrows frowned ever so slightly in confusion.
“That… kinda was the goal, sweetheart.” She said in a light chuckle.
“But I wanna do the tribbing thing,” you tried to reason with her.
“I know you do,” she says, voice slipping back into that syrupy, gentle register, “we’re gonna do it after, baby.”
It was your turn to frown now, and it seemed to clicked into Natasha’s mind.
“Do…” she carefully started, “do you think that cumming right now means that it’s over ?”
Even though she tried to be as neutral as possible, you sensed from her tone that what you were implying was stupid.
Suddenly feeling embarrassed, you stuttered, “I mean, uh— yeah ? Cumming is like, the end.” You cleared your throat, “and I wanna feel that with you, while we— um trib ? Is that the word ?”
Natasha’s whole expression seemed to melt.
“Oh, baby,” she cooed, empathy dripping from her voice.
Leaning in, she planted a sweet kiss on your cheek, letting her lips linger on your skin.
“You are so fucking sweet. My gorgeous angel, an orgasm is not the end, you don’t have to stop at one. Sex is about feeling good, and as long as you want to keep feeling good, we can keep going as long as we want.”
Her words seemed to open some sort of floodgates within you.
“Really ?”
“Yeah, you know what’s amazing about our bodies ? We don’t have a refractory period, we basically can have as many orgasms as we want.”
The realization settled upon you, and a big smile made its way onto your face with no way to stop it. You practically lurched at her, capturing her lips with yours.
“Please make me come,” you pleaded, vibrating with anticipation.
Natasha smirked, “you’re unreal, sweetheart.”
But she obliged, her mouth returning to your aching clit. It didn’t take long for her to bring you back to the edge, her tongue apparently having learnt over such a short time what exact spots made you cry out louder.
“I want you to soak my face baby,” she rasped against your swollen folds.
The sound of her voice vibrating against you, the feeling of her hair on your skin, the relentless assault of her tongue on your clit and the knowledge that it was Natasha in between your legs making you see stars and that you’d keep seeing many more in the next few hours, the mix of everything made the coil in your stomach snap, more violently than you had ever felt before.
Your legs immediately closed around her head, caging her in. But Natasha wasn’t at all complaining.
She worked you through your high, as she glanced up to watch the beautiful visual you were offering her. Your back arched, tits pushing out towards the ceiling, head thrown back, eyebrows furrowed and mouth open on a soundless moan, as if the air was somehow trapped.
It felt like as if your ears got plugged for a moment, only able to register white noise as waves and waves of pleasure continued to roll through you, and you were completely, but very happily, helpless against it.
After what felt like a forever bliss, you slowly opened your eyes, feeling like your soul was progressively getting back into your body. Your breath was coming in short and shaky, but God did you feel at ease. You didn’t recall your mattress being this comfortable, you wanted to sink down in it and never, ever get up.
The gentle pass of hands on your thighs made you look up, eyes landing on Natasha, her lips wet from your arousal stretched out into a smile of pure adoration. It made your heart swell and your arousal start up again.
Cupping her face your brought her up to you, slamming your lips against yours and she let out a surprised laugh into the kiss.
“Nat, that was… fuck I actually have no words,” you marveled, licking your lips, tasting yourself on her, feeling like letting loose after such an intense climax, “that felt so fucking good, I came so hard.”
“Yeah, you did. Came all over my face like the good girl you are,” she praised, getting some hair away from your sticky forehead.
Letting out a little giggle out of sheer need, you felt yourself get even wetter because of the pet name.
“Are you still up to do the tribbing thing ?” She teasingly used your previous words.
“Fuck yes.” You caught her lips in another kiss, apparently unable to stay too long without kissing her, “rub your pussy on mine, I need it so bad.”
For a second you looked at each other, both startled by your sudden boldness. Before you had the time to cringe or become self conscious, Natasha’s pleased groan hit your ears.
“Lay back down, baby,” she cooed, one hand on your chest gently pushing you down, “I’m gonna fuck you so good.”
Your hands came up to squeeze her breasts passionately, trying to let her know how much you loved the way she talked to you. Opening up your legs wide enough for her hips to slide in, you waited in burning anticipation for the one thing you had spent way too much time fantasizing about for a so called ‘straight girl’.
Both of your gazes were fixed on each other’s core, watching Natasha oh so slowly close the distance and finally, finally putting her wet pussy on yours.
“Fuck,” you exhaled shakily, eyes trained to where you were connected.
The first thing you registered was warmth, overwhelming warmth coming from her core. It was wet, so wet that you didn’t even know which one of your slick was staining the sheets.
“This pussy is so ready for me, sweetheart, so fucking wet.” She rasped as her hips began to move, little back and forth that made her clit buck up against yours.
The friction was… heavenly. Unlike anything you had ever felt before. The pleasure flowing through your veins was electric, and your eyes were desperate to roll to the back of your head but your determination to keep watching Natasha rut herself against your pussy was stronger.
The moans exiting her mouth were like the ones of an angel you thought, if heaven could make sound it would definitely be this one.
“Oh my god, Nat, your pussy feels so fucking good,” you cried out, reaching for her and intertwining your fingers together.
Her hips picked up the pace, the friction of your wet cores resonating loudly in your bedroom.
She had a faraway look in her lust blown eyes as her gaze oscillated between your face and the slight bounce of your boobs.
The way her engorged clit kept catching on yours was bringing you faster than ever before towards the edge, already sensitive from a first mind blowing orgasm.
“Sweetheart, do you know how long I have thought about this ?” She managed through a moan, still going steady on your dripping pussy, “everytime you came back from a shitty date, every time you peeked at my fucking boobs in the shower… fuck.”
Her hips stuttered as she seemed to rub a particularly sensitive spot of her clit with yours.
“Every single time I’ve thought about this, sweetheart. Hearing you moan my name so sweetly for me, finally show you,” she cursed lowly, sounding out of breath for a moment, “you’re not the perfectly straight girl you claim to be.”
Her whole rant was only fueling the pleasure boiling in your veins, it felt like losing your mind to the sweetest torture. You couldn’t respond with anything but a desperate moan. Firmly holding your hips down, she stopped her thrusting motion, switching for a circular one.
“Oh— oh fuck, keep doing that, that feels so good, oh my fucking god Nat !”
“I know,” she moaned back, “I know, I can feel your little clit getting all hard, baby, that’s so fucking hot.”
Your climax was approaching alarmingly fast, chest heaving violently as your whole body clenched in anticipation of the pleasure waves that would soon submerged you.
Her hips kept the same pace, same pressure, same motion that was making you lose your mind, and before you truly realised it, you didn’t just fell over the edge, you were thrown off of it.
Noises from all sort were falling out from your gaping mouth, hips twitching under Natasha’s.
She fucked you through it, never stopping her movements. “That’s it, baby, that’s it. Let it all out, fuck, that’s it… shit…”
It was like white noise rigging in your ears and Natasha’s voice was the only thing coming through. When the most intense waves slowly calmed after what felt like ages, the first thing you registered was the sped up movement of Natasha’s hips, then came her moans, almost pornograohic in their high pitched melody.
Realizing she was desperately chasing her own climax, your hands found her ass, helping her rut against you while the beginning of overstimulation was sweetly creeping up on you. She looked so good, and you could feel her pussy getting slicker and slicker on top of yours, the heat coming from her close to feverish.
Natasha looked almost vulnerable, so pretty on top of you, finally chasing her pleasure after bringing you to yours twice. Your hands squeezed the flesh of her ass as the sight in front of you gave a new found confidence to your words.
“Keep going, Nat. You’re doing so great, you look so fucking good,” you praised breathlessly, watching her face scrunch up in bliss at the sound of your voice, “use my pussy to make yourself cum, rub that pretty clit on me.”
“Keep talking, baby,” she begged, eyes scrunched up tight, only the feeling of your pussy and sweet voice registering into her pleasure drunk brain, “please keep talking, don’t stop.”
And who were you to deny her ?
“I’m not stopping, baby, I swear. Keep fucking me, wanna feel you cum on me, Nat, wanna feel you leak all over me.”
Those words seemed to detonate something inside of her, her hips twitched before stopping completely, rendered absolutely helpless by the white hot pleasure slamming into her body.
“Y/N, shit !” She moaned out so beautifully.
You helped her ride her high, your hands on her ass helping her hips move as her pussy was sporadically clenching around nothing, gushing out slick on your own puffy folds. The sight was one you wanted to imprint into your mind just in case it was your only chance of seeing it.
It was only when she came back down that her eyes opened up, immediately landing on yours, her lips quirking up in a small, dazed smile. Catching her breath, she quickly looked down at where your cores were still connected and she let out a low, appreciative sound at the slick mess in between the two of you.
“Baby,” she rasped, coming down to affectionately nudge your nose with hers, “that was so fucking good. God, I wish I had my strap, want to see you cream around my cock so bad.”
The visual she painted in your brain was nothing short of sinful and absolutely delicious, and you whimpered in tired enthusiasm.
Lying down on top of you, she buried her face into the crook of your neck, rubbing your sweat slicked skin affectionately with her nose.
“How are you feeling, baby ?”
“Good, so good,” you slurred, still dazed from the intensity of your orgasm.
She hummed into your skin, and for a moment you both laid there, engulfed in each other’s warmth, basking in the comfortable silence. Then, a thought popped into your head, one you absolutely couldn’t suppress anymore and needed to voice out to Natasha.
“Am I a lesbian ?”
Natasha bursted out laughing.
“Hey,” you half jokingly reprimanded her, “it’s a serious question !”
She calmed down, only slightly. “Sorry,” she managed through her fit of giggles, “sorry, didn’t mean to laugh, sweetheart, it just caught me off guard.”
“So,” you promoted again, “am I a lesbian ?”
Natasha lifted her head, her eyes catching yours, a fond smile replacing her chuckling and a tender look in her eyes.
“I mean, you’re definitely not straight,” she gently teased, stealing a quick kiss off you, “but I can’t tell you if you’re a lesbian, baby, that’s for you to figure out.”
You hummed, deep in thought.
“I mean, I do like men.” You stated, matter of factly, you’ve had bad experiences, yes, but it didn’t mean you were any less attracted to them, whether unfortunately or not.
“You sure do,” she chuckled, visibly remembering how you never hid the way you oggled at Jake when he took his shirt off at the beach. “And by the way,” she added, “you don’t need to figure it out tonight, you can leave the thinking and introspection for tomorrow, we can just cuddle and watch a movie.”
Her words filled you with warmth, and while her patience and reassurance were making your heart swell, they were also making more slick escape from in between your legs.
“And…” you began, a small smirk pulling at your lips, “maybe after some of those cuddles, you could… teach me how to eat you out ? That seems so fun I really want to taste you,” you said, earnest as if you had just had sex for the very first time, feeling like those feelings were entirely new to you.
And, in a sense, they were. Saying you had felt this strongly about any guy would be a terrible lie.
She hummed, “yeah, we can do that.” Her hips slowly began to grind back into yours, and you weren’t sure if she was entirely conscious of the movement.
“And then,” you trailed off, struggling to keep making sense as the pleasure fog was slowly clouding your brain again, meeting you like a new friend you couldn’t wait to get familiar with, “then we could do the tribbing thing again ? And I could fuck you this time.”
She quirked a playful eyebrow at you. “Mmh ? You wanna fuck me, huh ? Wanna have me cry out your name under you, sweet thing ?” Her hips picked up the pace, swollen and puffy clit catching on yours.
Moaning out, you wanted to toy with her a little bit, get her a bit riled up in the hope of getting fucked harder.
“Yeah, then I’ll be able to vouch for you to Jake.”
She frowned, pulled aback by the mention of her squad mate in such an intimate moment.
“What ?”
“You know, that lesbians really do fuck all night.”
She bursted out laughing again, the sound a blessing to your ears, kissing you in the middle of of her laugher fit as you mirrored her, both of your breaths mingling.
And that was when you realised that being with Natasha like that didn’t feel new. It felt exciting, that was for sure, but not in an unfamiliar way. Strangely, it felt like something you’d known all your life, and were just now allowing to finally fully exist. And it hit you as she smiled at you, eyes full of adoration.
It felt like coming home.
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Author’s note : guys I genuinely don’t know how to feel about this fic. Let me tell you the smut was supposed to be way longer than that, like it was supposed to keep going but I’ve been writing this fic for too long and I genuinely couldn’t do it anymore😭😭 I’ve been stuck on it for weeks and I just couldn’t stay forever on it, so sorry I hope it’s still okay
Also I know there isn’t a lot of Natasha fans so I don’t know who this will reach but whoever it might be, I hope it was alright !
summary: during a summerween party in betty's peculiarly dank basement, flash calls for a round of two party games: spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven. then, when the bottle lands on you, you only hope for one thing---to suppress the crush you had on peter parker in high school.
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
From under these peculiarly fluorescent party lights, Peter Parker nervously idled from foot-to-foot as he clutched the sides of a juicy, supple watermelon—that of which spilled watermelon seeds and pulp over the sides of it as some girl - also dressed up as a watermelon - inspected its gutted insides.
“We can only carve them if they’re new,” she commented cooly.
“I bought it this morning, Betty,” Peter said. As he spoke, his lips trembled.
“From where? Wal-Mart?”
“Hey, I didn’t know this party had a budget.”
Betty laughed. “I’m playing with you. Need a napkin?”
Peter sighed and shook his head as Betty turned on her heel, darting towards the spoke of paper towels she could not seem to grasp, as she was drunkenly spinning the wheel it was mounted on. She quickly ran back towards him and began to pat down his jeans.
MJ snorted and sipped her drink, musing, “How many shots do you think she’s had?”
“Not enough,” you said, watching Betty not-so-subtly attempt to feel Peter up. The only reaction he gave her was pity as he hitched the watermelon onto his hip.
“Summerween is crazy,” MJ said idly. Her glass clinked with ice as her lips pursed around it, and Betty’s backyard was blindingly hot—Peter and Betty continued to talk near the long, wooden family table and the sun glinted off the pink umbrella in searing white refractions.
“How are you finding MIT?” Betty asked, sifting through locks of Peter’s brown hair. At this point, he had rid himself of his neon orange shirt, only donning his navy blue swim-shorts. She sat on his lap, facing the pool with her back to his face, squirting a thick dollop of white sunscreen into his expectant palm, which lay facing towards her, extended beyond her side. As he moved, you noticed how his arms tensed and untensed and hit reflections of the pale blue pool.
“It’s been really fun,” Peter told her, smearing it all over her back with the same grace as a child in a kitchen. “I’ve made a bunch of new friends. The classes kinda suck but they’re not too hard.”
Betty nodded and bit her lip. When MJ nudged your shoulder, you were already glancing at her through your sunglasses. The pair of you held back a giggle as you further inspected the amusing situation at hand. Literally. Betty’s back must have been well-protected from the sun after a near five-minute operation of Peter rubbing it into her skin, yet, she still encouraged him to put on some more. You adjusted the string of your gingham bikini and sipped your peach bellini.
“Not too hard? Peter, you’re a genius,” Betty said, girlishly. She flipped her hair and looked over her shoulder back towards him, eyes low. “I only go to community college.”
Awkwardly, Peter patted her bicep, and said, with unsure restraint, “everyone has their own journey.”
“That’s the corniest shit I’ve ever heard,” MJ said.
“Sh,” you told her.
“That’s true,” Betty continued, finally stepping off of his lap. She stretched, revealing lines of toned abdomen. Peter noticeably tried not to steal a glance. In the distance, Ned must have jumped into the pool, because a big splash echoed across the water, catching your attention. You shifted on your lounge chair, watching Ned and Gwen. Ned had just thrown Gwen into the pool, and now, she was in his arms, being dragged across the pool, shrieking with laughter. You glanced back at Betty and Peter. Then to MJ.
“Did you say that Betty and Ned broke up?” you whispered to her.
She inhaled the rest of her slushy through her straw. “I thought it was a rumour. I never thought Betty would go for Peter. So soon, too.”
You nodded at MJ’s words as Betty stepped into the water. Peter stood beside her, hand-in-hers, taking her guidance down the steps. As they descended into the pool, their bodies turned ghostly pale.
“Shall we go in the pool and continue this investigation?”
“Should we do that and also get another drink?”
“You’re a genius.”
After fashioning yourselves new peach bellinis in Betty’s wonderfully expensive blender, MJ walked ahead of you as you entered the water. You looked around at the crowd of drunken twenty-somethings dressed in whatever cheap Summerween attire they could afford—someone had poorly died a neon orange Halloween shirt (Peter had not even bothered to alter his), Flash donned a watermelon hat, and—
“Are you going to the afters tonight?” MJ asked you conversationally, twirling around in the water with ease, holding her drink above it. Her sunhat casted funky shadows onto the gently lapping waves.
“There’s afters?” you asked, joining her in her twirling.
“Yeah. Betty’s hosting. This thing’s supposed to be over in like, an hour.”
“Are you going?”
“Yeah. Are you?”
“Is it invite-only?”
“I don’t know.”
“Free drinks?”
“Probably.”
A few hours later, you joined MJ on the couch as you and a group of maybe twenty people crowded into Betty’s basement. It smelled like stale beer, cheese, and ham. Flash stood in the corner, verbally sparring with some girl. You and MJ had nearly intervened, too, until Flash stepped away angrily, yelling to the group, “anybody want to play Spin the Bottle?”
“Are we in middle school, Flash?” MJ yelled. She hoisted the strap of her tank top over her shoulders. Her hair was curly and damp; the basement felt humid, for some reason. You were not sure how MJ was not freezing.
“Shut up, MJ,” Flash scoffed. “Anybody?”
Betty sighed. “Gimme another shot.”
Although you were unsure and slightly surprised at how quickly Flash had managed to wrangle and gather and organize the group into a rough suggestion of a circle, you were all equipped with an empty Heineken bottle, sat in the center of the circle-suggestion.
You shuddered and resented yourself for not bringing a hoodie, like MJ did. Your nipples ached as Flash spun the bottle first - obviously. After some anti-climactic waiting, the bottle landed on Peter. You laughed as Flash shuddered, refusing, and handing the bottle to the person beside him, which was Ned. Ned spun the bottle, and it landed on Betty. After a very restrained yet strangely passionate kiss, they parted, slightly dazed. This time, MJ spun the bottle. It landed on you. With a drunken giggle, she leaned forward, and placed a chaste kiss on your lips.
“That doesn’t count,” Flash scoffed.
“You just want to see us make out,” MJ said, smugly.
“What are the rules of this game, again?” you asked.
Flash sat back down, muttering. MJ passed the bottle to you, snickering to herself. You did not particularly have any feelings for anybody there, yet, as your hand slipped from the cold glass and sent the bottle into a spiral, your stomach felt weird when it landed on Peter. He sat criss-crossed from across the room, hair tousled, grey shirt slightly wet. Some people laughed, but it was teeth-grindingly quiet as you had to stumble across the room, bend down, fall awkwardly onto your ass, adjust onto your knees, put your arms on his shoulder, thumb the curls at the nape of his neck, and kiss him.
MJ whooped when you closed your eyes, surprised, trying not to smile. You had not expected Peter to reciprocate, let alone run his hands through his hair, tongue the inside of your lower lip, bite it, and pull away. As you waddled back to your spot across the floor beside MJ, you wiped your lip, ignoring the eye contact and juvenile comments. And how your face felt like flushing. Yet, luckily, everyone else had moved on—Gwen was already spinning the bottle. Why did Peter kiss you like that? You were on the same Decathlon team as him in high school. That was it. He had barely talked to you. Unfortunately, before the game was officially over, you had to kiss a dude named Sven who smelled like damp rags and cologne. As the group settled into the low hum of conversation, Flash yelled, “what about seven minutes in heaven?”
“Just watch porn, Flash,” Ned said, shaking his head. “We actually respect the people here, you know.”
“I’m down,” Betty said. Ned looked at Betty. Then sighed. His shoulders slumped as he silently followed the group back over to the empty bottle, sitting back down like it was an ashamed routine. At this point, you were so tipsy that Flash’s words melted into a golden champagne haze. You followed everyone else and spinned the bottle first when MJ had encouraged you to get to it before Flash. You were too busy studying the string of fairy lights that illuminated Gwen’s blonde hair before MJ nudged your side. Hard.
“Get up,” MJ whispered.
“What?” you asked.
“It landed on Peter.”
“What?”
“Get inside of that damn closet!”
Confused, MJ hurried you up, and you stood on your legs like a drunken, baby deer. Flash came up behind you and grabbed your shoulders, facing you towards Peter, who was already standing by the door, staring at something on his knuckles.
“Alright,” Flash sighed, “you both know the rules.”
Flash opened the door and a wave of mildew and mothballs hit you before Flash promptly pushed you inside. You had barely registered the sensation of hard plastic beneath your fingertips before Peter was steadying you, pulling you away from the shelf.
“Is there a light in here?” you asked, trying to open the doorknob. It was locked.
Peter was feeling up the walls, but based on his defeated sigh, he had not found anything.
“Do you have your phone?” he asked you.
“It’s in there.”
“Me too.”
“Well.”
“Think we can feel for a chair?”
You laughed. “I admire your wishful thinking.”
The storage closet was more like a broom closet, and you wondered why, with Betty’s wealth, her family would construct a room so tiny. Your chest was barely brushing against Peter’s—you were still cold, and your bikini top was colder, so you had elected to take it off and toss it into a grocery bag. When your pearled nipples brushed against his damp chest, you inhaled and ignored the wave of heat that made your face pound.
“My legs hurt,” he said.
“Why?”
“I dunno.”
You found yourself smiling. “I wish we could sit down.”
In the darkness, you heard and felt Peter shuffle around. You barely had enough space to do a full turn.
“We could sit with our legs crossed if we angle it right,” he said.
“Let’s do it,” you said. After what felt like the whole of seven minutes - yet was not, clearly, as you two had not yet been fetched - you were sitting on your knees with your back pressing into what felt like a dollhouse, and Peter was sitting cross-legged beneath you, awkwardly trying to rest his back against the wall of what felt like old toys. You smiled.
“Think our time’s almost up?”
“I had hoped figuring this out would take up most of it,” Peter admitted.
“Me too.”
Now, your arms were resting over his head, fingers curling over the shelf ledge. If you were to get up, you may step on him. If he were to adjust, he would send you falling.
“This is a little more uncomfortable,” you told him.
“I agree,” he said, sadly. Your nipples still hurt from how cold you were. The thought of your hardened nipples so close to his face, to his mouth, made your grip slip—you gasped and Peter grabbed your waist, holding you until you could feel out the ledge again.
“Sorry,” you breathed.
“It’s fine,” he said, still holding your waist. His fingers were hot.
“Your skin is freezing,” he said. Then, as if he was completely unaware of what he was doing, he traced his thumb over the goosebumps on your hipbone. The lace of your thong had ridden up and over the waistband of your low-rise shorts, and as he slowly felt the extent of your coldness, you shivered when his thumb ran over it.
“It’s cold down here,” you said, trying not to sound winded.
“Do you want my hoodie?” he offered.
“Do you have it on?”
He quieted. “It’s out there.”
You laughed, softly. He was tapping your hip, now, and you liked it. It was soothing.
“I’ll warm up eventually,” you whispered. Boldly, you remembered how he kissed you with a little more teeth than something casual. You extended your leg, accidentally kicking his stomach.
“Watch out,” he said, steadying your hips as you figured out how to sit on his thighs. You were expecting his body temperature to be hot. You were not expecting him to be hard. Involuntarily, you pressed down onto him, and he sucked in a breath. You swore you could see the gleam in his eye, looking up at you, when you sighed and slowly began to grind against him. He squeezed your waist, feeling his way up your body in the cold darkness until he reached your jaw, holding it.
“What if they walk in? What if we run out of time?” you asked. The faint yellow outline of light seeping in through the cracks in the door made the highlights on Peter’s hair shine when he shook his head slowly.
“Do you hear that?” he suggested, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“What?”
“They forgot about us.”
“What?”
“Be quiet.”
You nibbled on your lower lip as heat rushed to your cheeks. You listened. No music. No people. A splash in the distance. Everyone had re-joined the pool. Peter tentatively brushed his lips against your neck. Suddenly, you were too hot. With a deep inhale, you pushed him away. He stared at you as you held his shoulders and rode him over his swim trunks. Slowly, he lifted his chin, and you felt the distance close—heat built up on static before you kissed, a push-pull, a tickling of lips—with your heavy sigh. You had never kissed somebody like this before. All of your one-night-stands were people you had never met. Yet, as you choked down a pleased, tipsy hum, you remembered all the times you had studied together.
“How’s school been, Pete?” you asked, sighing when he kissed your neck.
“Been good,” he said, squeezing your hip. “You?”
“Also good.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah. Try a little more to the left—yes. That feels nice.”
You felt his teeth graze your skin for a moment as he held back a smile. He was growing harder by the second, and you could not tell if the dampness between you was the swimwear, or you—were you seriously going to sleep with him? In a closet?
“I can’t hook up with you in a closet, Peter,” you said. Yet, as you spoke, Peter gingerly slid his warm palm beneath your shirt, sending shivers through your spine. When his thumb touched your nipple, experimenting, you began to second-guess it.
“You’re really pretty,” Peter said, lifting your shirt up—before you could slap him and tell him to pull it down, he suckled on your tits, and your defensively raised hand faltered into a debauched, frantic extension into Peter’s hair, pulling on it.
“Oh my god,” you whispered, lips parting. He reached a hand between you and thumbed your clit through your jeans. Of course he knew where it was—he was a science nerd. The concept of Peter Parker doing research on a clit was enough to make you laugh, yet, as he unbuttoned your jeans for you and somehow managed to help you hold yourself up enough to take them off, you felt your breath being truly taken away. He slipped a finger beneath the string of your thong and let it snap back against your skin before lifting his thighs to shimmy his trunks down. At this point, you had long forgotten about the crowd of partygoers swimming just a few feet away outside. The godawful yellow light made Peter’s knuckles gleam when he lifted you up, slipping his dick beneath the soft lace.
“You’re so wet,” he murmured, shaking his head in disbelief; you watched his brow darken in concentration and sucked in a moan.
“I just showered,” you said, unsure. When Peter laughed and kissed you, pushing your thong to the side, you grinned into his mouth, riding his fingers.
“No, I think you’re just wet,” he said jokingly when you let out an uncontrolled whimper into his neck.
“Don’t joke,” you gasped, biting your lip. The pressure of his fingers curling inside of you made your body feel numb. Your hips rolled against his as if it were a routine dance. He thumbed the swell of your ass with one hand and touched you so deeply with the other. Peter then, while still touching you, sucked on your tits. You felt delirious and hot and sweaty and like you smelled like mildew.
“Peter,” you said; it was all you could say. With your other hand that was not holding onto Peter’s hair for dear life, you spat into it, and began to smear it into his tip. A low, withholding noise came from his chest as you gracefully jerked him off, sliding your fingers over his cock as if it were a fretboard, listening to every minor overtone and chord—when you took your time rubbing his pink tip, he seemed to slow down, and kiss you; when you frantically tugged, he tried not to moan, and had to kiss your neck—
“Can I fuck you, Y/N?” he asked. Your thumbs rested against his forehead, wiping away beads of sweat. He sounded breathless and you could feel his heart hammering. You nodded coyly. You had already decided that he could in high school. You lifted your thighs and held his dick, lining him up. It took all the restraint you had not to sink down onto him. Instead, you lightly run him over your folds, feeling light-headed.
Peter gripped your hips so hard, you wanted him to do it more.
“I need to hear you say it,” he said. You could tell his jaw was tense in his voice.
“I nodded,” you said, sinking down halfway.
“It’s dark,” he moaned. “I won’t unless you say it to me.”
“Fuck me, Peter, I want you. Does that get you off—”
He slipped inside of you, catching you off guard. His dick felt like it sat somewhere comfortable yet slightly stuffed in your belly as he took his time, letting you accommodate his girth. Unwillingly, you moaned, arched your back, and rested your hands on his shoulders, tentatively riding him, testing out the swell in your stomach, the pit of pleasure that knotted in your chest; he entered and exited you, slow and wet and decadent.
“Fuck, Happy Summerween,” he said, through a breathless laugh.
“You’re such a nerd,” you said fondly, kissing him as he wrapped his arms around your back, fucking up into you at a pace you had never experienced, encouraging long, drawn-out moans from your glossed lips. He held you so tightly you could feel his hammering heartbeat matching yours, his hands shaking with every frantic thrust.
“You feel so fucking good,” he praised through clenched teeth. You sighed and rolled your head back, tangling your fingers in his hair, indulging in the feeling. You fucked him for what felt like hours—yet, you felt so inebriated around him, it could have only been seven minutes, after all.
-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-
author's note:
hope you enjoyed! i have run out of requests in my inbox, so please send some more over to help me get my puny lil brain going!! thank uu:))) bye bye love u!!
Truth or Dare | Joaquin Torres x Reader | Oneshot 1.3k
Waiting for your pick up in a motel room, Joaquin suggests a sleepover and the real truths are revealed.
Content: 18+ for adult conversations, besties to lovers vibes, flirting, kissing, pet names (baby, Quino)
For @fluffyjuly Day 4 -“You love me?” "Always have"
And @juniebjonesin picnic prompts → yearning / wanting something more / chasing a feeling
With a groan you flopped onto your side, hoping to hide the dopey grin finding it's way onto your face at the knowledge that Joaquín was so desperate to spend time with you.
Masterlist | Marvel | Joaquín Torres
"Are we sure this is a good idea?" You asked, sipping your beer and leaning back against the squeaky headboard of the motel twin bed.
"Yes!" Joaquín bounced excitedly on the other bed, popping open a bag of popcorn and holding it open towards you.
"Sam will come and pick us up in like five hours, we could just sleep…" You offered, finishing your beer and perching the empty bottle on the bedside table beside Joaquín's.
"No, come on, how often do we get to hang out anymore, I feel like I never see you, let's play sleepover games. I got all the good sleepver snacks, there's candy, popcorn, chips, the ice cream will be soft soon…" He looked up at you with pleading puppy dog eyes and you couldn't resist.
You could never resist anything to do with Joaquín, he was your achilles heel, your kryptonte, that's how you'd ended up in a motel in the middle of nowhere in the first place. Agreeing to tag along to help on a recon.
"Fine, fine, but just for a bit and I want to nap on the jet, deal?" You held your hand out, pinky finger extended, and Joaquín gripped it with his own, the curl on his forehead bouncing with excitement.
"Pinky promise you can have a nap on the jet. Now, let's play truth or dare!"
"Alright, truth or dare."
"Dare," Joaquín said, his eyes twinkling.
"I dare you to send a mirror pic to Sam."
You'd assumed he'd be embarrassed, but the continuing twinkle in Joaquín's eye made you think it was a poor choice.
"Too easy, I send them to him all the time, show him what he could achieve if he worked harder." He laughed and you kicked out at him from your bed.
"Idiot."
Joaquín rolled onto his back and scrolled through his phone for his preferred picture before announcing none of them would do; he grabbed his basketball shirt and tugged it up to his face.
"What are you —"
Biting the seam to hold it up, Joaquín gave the camera a cheeky wink and a peace sign before letting his shirt go again.
Dry mouthed you searched for your beer to hide behind, heat creeping up your spine at the realisation it was empty and there was nowhere to go.
"There, done. Truth or dare?"
"Uhmmm — dare I guess."
"I dare you to hide a swear word in the mission debrief."
"Fuck, Quino, you're gonna get me fired!"
"Nah, Bucky'll think it's funny…it has to be fuck now you've said it."
"Damn it." You pulled out your tablet and clicked away the mission debief hiding "fuck" at the bottom before setting the text to white. "Right, done. Truth or dare?"
You carried on for a few more rounds, darling Joaquín to steal a soda from the machine outside, showing him your last three DMs in Instagram, until it felt like you might be running out of steam.
And then he said it, the first "truth".
"Truth."
There'd been one thing you'd been dying to know for weeks now.
"Why did you break up with Cindy from the hanger?"
"What?"
"You heard me, you guys were cute and then you dumped her and moped about instead. You never told me why."
"Oh." Joaquín went uncharacteristically quiet. "I — just wasn't feeling it anymore. "
"You weren't feeling it?"
"Yep, now truth or dare."
"You know that was a shit answer, do it properly."
"Ask me something else next time. Truth or dare."
"Truth."
"Why don't you date anyone?"
"That's a stupid truth." Panic welled in your throat, you knew why, you were fairly sure he knew why too.
"Then tell me."
"I just…don't feel it."
"Bullshit I caught you making out with that guy who refuels the engines at th Christmas party, and you danced with whats-her-face from the Halloween trunk and treat. You're honestly telling me you "weren't feeling" any of that? You haven't so much as looked at anyone since...well, since Cindy and I ended things."
"If you weren't feeling it with Cindy, I wasn't feeling it with them." You said decisively.
Joaquín narrowed his eyes undeterred and sat up, making his twin bed creak, "truth."
"Fine," you sat up too, your own bed sagging in the middle, and faced Joaquín head on. "Why don't you date anymore?"
The air in the room felt thick and you swallowed, wishing you hadn't chugged your beer so fast.
"Because I don't want to date and fuck around, the next girl I go out with will be my actual girlfriend."
"How're you gonna get there without daring! I stand by my earlier statement. Idiot!" You tossed a piece of popcorn at him and he caught it in his mouth.
"I already know who it's gonna be, just waiting for the right moment." He shrugged, a confident smile on his face, but you knew him too well to accept it. There was something behind his eyes that looked vulnerable, the way he chewed on the inside of his cheek and tapped on the bedsheets. He was nervous.
"And who is it gonna be?"
"That's another question, it's your turn. Truth or dare?"
"Dare."
You were sure he was going to get you to show him your terrible ID picture from last year or eat too many marshmallows, something to take the atmosphere out of the air. Joaquín was always good at reading your moods, cheering you up.
But he didn't.
He kept watching you with his dark eyes, "I dare you to tell me who you last thought about when you touched yourself."
"Torres!"
"Yes?"
"Well that's basically a truth for a start, and secondly that is — I can't tell you things like that!"
"Why not," he shrugged, "you used to. Before I went out with Cindy, you used to tell me everything."
"God — well, that was before." You were too hot and flustered for this conversation.
"Before what? Before I had a girlfriend? Well I don't anymore. Come on, is it still that guy from that film?"
"No, Jesus, just, pick something else. An actual dare."
"I dare you to get off. Right now. And then I'll hear this name for myself."
"Joaquín!"
"What!?" He gave you a cheeky smile and stole a handful of your popcorn, eating it with obnoxiously exaggerated enjoyment.
"We've been stuck on recon for days. Dare me to get off, I'm dying for it."
"I'm not daring you to jack off." You sank down into your bed, what you wouldn't give to see what he looked like in the throes of pleasure.
"Well, then you've got to tell me who you last thought about." He said, as if he'd won a great political debate.
"No."
"AHH so it's someone we know!"
"No!"
"It's not Sam, you said he was like a dad to you, unless that's a thing…no, no. Bucky? No, you said you did in basic but you got over it when you saw how he eats a burger —"
You grit your teeth, he was so close to finding out the truth, and there was a part of you that wanted it. Then at least this unbearable feeling would be over. It'd be a relief. Even if he'd never want to hang out with you again.
"Who else do we even know?"
"No one, because it is no one else."
"Well, there's — wait what do you mean?"
"Nothing I just meant there's not many people you can know as a superhero team and —"
"Is it me?"
The silence hung painfully between you and then Joaquin moved forward, cupping your cheek and drawing you off your bed and into his arms.
"Is it me, baby?" He'd never used this voice on you before, the soft pillow talk of the man who knew you in every single way but the way you wanted. The caress of his hands so familiar when you were training or fighting, but that felt so new now he was holding you like you were his.
"Joaquin." His name left you like a breath, and then he was kissing you, tugging you fully into his lap and knocking the popcorn onto the floor. You tumbled after him, smiling against his lips.
"I dare you to tell me how you feel." You whispered.
"I love you."
"You love me?"
"Always have carino. I dare you to tell me how you feel."
F - fluff S - smut A - angst
♡ - series ☆ - one shot ◇ - imagines and drabbles
last updated - 27/05/2026
⤷ fic count - 29
@bubbly-parker ——————————
☆ isaac lahey x witch!afab!reader | F.
⤷ “don't even start again. just let me help without complaining for once.” a small “why” was all you could muster in return, too tired to start a whole argument. “what do you mean, why? to make sure you're fine, obviously." “in case you haven't noticed, but it's always me looking after you.”
@crownjewel123 ——————————
☆ isaac lahey x fem!reader | F.
⤷ isaac lahey is a cute guy. anyone with eyes can see it. it’s become a sort of, tradition, on the girls cheer team to confess to their crushes in unconventional ways. what way exactly?‘ borrowing’ a guys jersey and wearing it at the game.
@deerfawnn ——————————
☆ heartbeat | F.
⤷ isaac can hear your racing heartbeat
@everlastingdreams ——————————
☆ theft of the heart | F.
⤷ you are new at the beacon hills high school and catch the attention of a certain lacrosse player. being too shy to interact properly leads to awkward situations.
@fangirl-writes ——————————
☆ tell you want this | S. A.
⤷ in a life that is constantly on the move, you appreciate the small moments much more. especially if they're with isaac.
@fclsebnnyodair ——————————
☆ isaac lahey who loves to admire his pretty girl while she’s getting ready! | F.
⤷ you and isaac are heading out to lydia’s party and he can’t keep his eyes off you while you are internally struggling to choose what shoes to wear.
☆ isaac lahey secretly loves when his girl gets all needy and clingy with him! | F.
⤷ you and isaac are cuddling and he loves teasing you about how needy you can get sometimes, even when he doesn’t mind a bit.
@imagine-you ——————————
♡ the wolves keep scratching at my heart | F. A.
⤷ growing up as a human in the hale pack wasn't easy, but you wouldn't have traded it for anything. when you're twelve, a fire takes away most of your family, except for your father and two of your cousins. you're adopted by a kind deputy and officially become a part of the stilinski family since your father can't care for you and your cousins have fled town. you think life can't possibly get any more complicated until you're eighteen and your brother's best friend gets bitten by a rogue alpha out in the preserve.
@imagines4thefandoms ——————————
☆ bad dreams | F. A.
⤷ it’s been a couple days since you’ve had a decent night of sleep. if it wasn’t the worry of school keeping you up it's the fact that people are being ritualistically sacrificed, or the alpha pack, or a hunter coming into town and killing your friends. so normal teenage worries. it’s hard to actually sleep when you're terrified that someone is going to die.
@lfzyxf ——————————
☆ isaac lahey x reader | F.
⤷ it’s easy to forget that even in beacon hills, california the weather gets colder during the winter. so easy that you’re now sitting in class shivering and struggling to focus on whatever coach is saying. you pull the sleeves of your sweater down to cover your hands before rubbing them over your hands, trying to warm yourself up.
◇ this drabble | F.
⤷ it’s difficult to get some privacy when you’re constantly surrounded by your friends.
@loverslodge ——————————
☆ the only girl i like | F. S. A.
⤷ a night of research leads to a confession
@perseephoneee ——————————
☆ ask me to dance? | F.
⤷ it never really got cold in beacon hills, considering it was located in california. still, when temperatures started to fall to a mild climate, it signaled to the teen population that winter was fast approaching. and with that came winter ball. which is all you've been able to think about.
☆ i was scared for you | F. A.
⤷ you get hurt in a fight while helping the mccall pack and a particular wolf comes to check in on you
☆ letters back and forth | F.
⤷ you’re a were-jaguar that left beacon hills after your parents got killed and you finally return to reconnect.
@renjunniex ——————————
♡ thank you, for being you | F. A.
⤷ after everything that happened with peter had finally been resolved it was time to watch over lydia, unfortunately not everything goes to plan.
@s0urw00lf ——————————
♡ your protector | F.
⤷ isaac has been extra protective since you joined him in the supernatural world
@s9fti3 ——————————
◇ this blurb
@sexualtensiongrowing21 ——————————
♡ you owe me | A.
⤷ “i owe you $20 not a day of pretending to date you to get him off your back.”
@sinsilk ——————————
☆ heaven knows | F. - [smau]
⤷ social media/ college au with the pack
@so-long-soldier-writes ——————————
☆ study buddies | F.
⤷ isaac asks you for help in chemistry. you agree on one condition.
@sundrop-writes ——————————
☆ claustrophobia | A.
⤷ "did it have to be a closet?" isaac let out a dry chuckle, a seemingly nervous laugh as he eyed up the space apprehensively before stepping inside, putting some of the supplies on one of the shelves.
☆ protective | A.
⤷ during his first full moon, isaac needs to think of something to ground him - to keep his newfound powers from getting out of control. derek suggests that he use anger, and he knows that scott grounds himself with his love for allison. isaac finds something in between - thinking of the anger he feels when you get hurt.
☆ why am i the one? | S. A.
⤷ isaac loves you. he loves you more than anything else in the world - which is exactly why he has stayed away from you for so long. but when derek kicks him out onto the street in the pouring rain with absolutely no warning and no reasoning as to why, Isaac has nowhere else to go. he could claim that he sought you out because you're close by, because he knows that you won't turn him away in his time of need - but deep down, it's because he misses you. and staying away from you for so long is the hardest, stupidest thing he has ever done.
@teenwolfimagines23 ——————————
☆ triple threat | A.
⤷ growing up as the younger sister of ethan and aiden had not been the easiest path in life. you loved your brothers, but they treated you like you were twelve-years-old not twelve minutes younger than ethan. what they said was law, and you had to follow it.
@thesewordsareallihavetogive ——————————
♡ real is the love | F. A.
⤷ isaac, well past his supernatural teenage troubles, has settled down with his girlfriend, y/n. they're both advancing in their careers when a surprise pregnancy throws them for a loop. the next several months are filled with lots of laughs, love, odd cravings, and a few tears. as always, peace only lasts for so long in beacon hills...
@totallynotashieldagent ——————————
☆ didn't mean to (totally did) | F. S. A.
⤷ isaac accidentally bit reader and now they're bonded. only problem? he didn't tell her that he's a werewolf yet.
@voidangxls ——————————
☆ stood in | F.
⤷ it was valentines day and your date stood you up and when isaac finds out he tries to fix your night.
SUMMARY: Jake "Hangman" Seresin had a reputation for flirting with anything that breathed, which is exactly why you never paid him much attention whenever the Dagger Squad rolled into the Hard Deck. But the more time you spend around him, the more you realize he’s not the arrogant jerk you assumed he was. Against all odds, you fall for him, hard. So when you suddenly start pulling away, Jake can't help but wonder what he did wrong.
WARNINGS: One-sided miscommunication, angst, self-deprecating thoughts, implied daddy issues, jealousy, fluff, cursing, platonic reader x Dagger Squad, lovesick!Jake, making out, probably some inaccurate military details (sorry)!
A/N: Literally hated his character when I first watched the movie, yet the more I watch edits and read fanfiction the more this man has grown on me... which is how this came about. Hope y'all enjoy! Divider by @thecutestgrotto <3
➩ main masterlist
➩ jake seresin masterlist
The Hard Deck was buzzing as it usually was on a Friday night. You and Penny moved in perfect sync behind the bar, dodging each other with practiced ease as the room filled with the clamor of laughter, clinking bottles, and the low hum of music from the jukebox in the corner. The scent of citrus and salt clung to your skin, your fingers sticky from pouring whiskey sours and popping lime wedges into beers.
You wiped your hands on a towel tucked into your apron, catching Penny’s eye just as she slid a beer down to a waiting customer. Penny leaned in as she wiped down the bar, eyes flicking toward the entrance. “They’re here.” She murmured, barely suppressing a grin. You didn’t need to ask who. The sound of boots scuffing the floor and the unmistakable blend of egos and energy meant only one thing: The Dagger Squad, fresh off another brutal day of training.
Maverick must’ve put them through hell, judging by the way Bradley dragged his hand through his hair like he might tear it out. Natasha looked like she was already plotting revenge, and Mickey was slumped against the pool table like gravity had it out for him personally. “They look like death.” You noted, already lining up glasses. Penny smirked. “Except for a certain blonde who’s looking at you like you’re his reward for surviving it.”
You threw her a dry look, but heat bloomed at the back of your neck. “You’re imagining things.” Penny rolled her eyes, nudging you with her elbow. “Oh, sure, I must be also imagining the way you check your lip gloss every time he walks in.” You snorted and turned away to hide your smirk, reaching for the tequila. “God, you’re even worse than Amelia.” Penny raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
The squad fanned out across the pool tables, dropping into their usual spots with groans and exaggerated sighs. Bradley clinked his dog tags against the counter like a bell, while Natasha stretched out her shoulders and grumbled something about Maverick trying to kill them. And then, right on cue, Jake Seresin. He swaggered in a few beats behind the rest, as if the doors themselves had waited for his entrance.
His hair was a little messy, his skin kissed by the sun, dog tags catching the low light as they swung against his collarbone. He moved like he owned the room, like he’d fought gravity and won. But you knew better now. He’d fooled you once. That cocky smile, that drawl, that insufferable nickname, Hangman. You’d pegged him for exactly the kind of man who flirted with anything that moved and forgot the names of anyone who didn’t. So you ignored him.
Every night he came in, you barely spared him a glance. And every night, he tried again. But Jake didn’t win you over with charm. He won you with patience. When your car wouldn’t start after a long shift and you were ready to scream into the night, he appeared, hands in his pockets, smile soft. No teasing, no smug remarks. Just a quiet offer to take a look. Thirty minutes later, he had it running again. He didn’t ask for anything in return.
He started walking you to your car after closing, no pressure, no flirting. Just company. And then he started showing up on your off days. Not in uniform. Not with the squad. Just Jake. He’d sit at the bar, nursing a soda or a single beer, and talk to you while you cut garnishes or cleaned glasses. He asked about your family. Your hometown. Whether you liked working nights or if you ever thought about leaving the beach behind.
He never made it about himself, not at first. And when he finally did, it was different. One night, long after the bar had emptied, you found him leaning against the jukebox, staring at the floor like it had personally offended him. “My dad never thought I’d amount to much,” He murmured when you passed him. “Guess part of me still tries to prove him wrong.” You’d stopped in your tracks. That was the moment something cracked. Not in him, in you.
Because behind all that swagger, Jake Seresin was carrying something heavy. Something private. And he trusted you enough to let you see it. That was when you started falling. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t sudden. It was slow. Unavoidable. A creeping warmth that found its way under your skin and settled there. So now, as Jake leaned across the bar, sweat-damp and sun-touched from a long day of dogfights, you didn’t feel annoyance anymore. You felt fear.
Because you’d let him in. Because he wasn’t who you thought he was. Because he looked at you like you were more than just a bartender, and you weren’t sure what to do with that. “Evenin’, darlin’.” His voice dropped low into that familiar Southern drawl, thick like honey and rough at the edges, and it sent goosebumps skittering down your spine before you could stop them. Jake leaned one elbow against the bar, casual as ever, but his presence was anything but forgettable.
Sunlight from the open doors caught in his windswept hair, and sweat still clung to the base of his throat. Those hypnotic green eyes, greener tonight under the warm, flickering lights, swept over your face with the same lazy intensity they always did, as if he were memorizing you every time. You arched a brow, letting your hands stay busy with the shaker. The clink of ice helped mask the fact that your heartbeat had kicked up a notch. “You look like Maverick dragged you through a jet wash.”
Jake’s grin curled slow, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was an edge in them, subtle, but there. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was something else. “He sure as hell tried,” He muttered, rolling his shoulder with a wince that was half hidden. “But it’s nothin’ I can’t handle.” You slid a cold beer across the polished wood without looking up, but your fingers brushed his for half a second longer than they should have.
His hand was warm, calloused and steady, and instead of pulling away, he lingered. Just a breath longer. Just enough to make your skin tingle where he touched you. You hated that it made your pulse skip. Hated it even more that he seemed to know exactly what it did to you. Jake gave you that heartbreaker wink before peeling away to join the others, the beer already raised in a half-salute. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
You watched him walk, shoulders still squared from the cockpit, tags clinking lightly against his chest, and tried not to let your eyes linger too long. Penny had, of course, seen all of it. As she restocked the limes with a knowing look, one perfectly sculpted brow lifted in dry amusement. “You keep looking at him like that,” She murmured, voice low as she tossed a handful of garnishes into a silver tray. “He’s gonna think that you actually like him.”
“He already thinks that.” You rolled your eyes, mostly to distract from the flutter blooming in your chest. “Because you do,” She countered without missing a beat, slicing through a lemon with precision. “Might as well admit it before you combust.” You didn’t answer. Not because she was wrong, but because she wasn’t. And you hated how easily she saw through you. The truth was… you did like him. Too much. In ways you didn’t want to admit out loud.
Jake Seresin had wormed his way past your sarcasm and rolled eyes and cool indifference like it was nothing. And the scariest part? He hadn’t even tried that hard. “I’ll be right back.” You muttered, grabbing five beers from the cooler and sliding them onto a tray with practiced ease. You tucked a cold can of Coca-Cola into the front pocket of your apron, Bob’s usual, always sipped with quiet contentment while the others knocked back drinks like they were on shore leave. Penny caught the gesture and smirked.
“Go get your man.” You didn’t dignify her with a reply. Just rolled your eyes and turned on your heel, weaving between the crowds with practiced grace, the tray balanced effortlessly in your hands. But your stomach flipped all the same, traitorous and fluttering, because the moment your eyes found Jake again, laughing with Bradley. And you weren’t sure how long you could pretend you weren’t. Taking a deep breath, and squaring your shoulders you shook those thoughts from your head.
“You all look like you could use a pick-me-up.” Every head at the table turned toward you, some sluggishly, others like your voice alone had jolted them back to life. “A beer for you,” You chirped, placing the cold glass in front of Mickey, who looked like he’d barely survived the day. His forehead rested on the edge of the table until he forced himself upright. “You’re an angel.” He groaned, already reaching for the glass like it might bring him back from the dead.
“And a Coke for you.” You placed the soda down with a satisfying clink in front of Bob, who was seated slightly off to the side, content with his quiet corner and a half-eaten bowl of peanuts. His cheeks turned pink as he straightened his glasses and smiled shyly. “For my favorite WSOs.” You added with a playful wink. Both men flushed under your gaze and responded with a thank you, in perfect unison.
You kept moving, passing out drinks with ease and affection. Natasha muttered something about you being a godsend as she reached for her beer, lifting it in a silent toast before taking a long, grateful sip. Rooster gave you a wink and a crooked smile that probably worked on half of San Diego, though it never really had an effect on you. Javy nodded with an appreciative grin, and Reuben gave you a friendly fist-bump.
“For my favorite pilots.” You teased, grinning as you finally came to rest beside Natasha. She leaned her head onto your shoulder with a contented sigh, her hair brushing against your cheek. “Marry me.” She mumbled, half-serious, half-drunk on exhaustion. Before you could even talk, a familiar voice, smooth, smug, and laced with that Southern twang, broke the silence. “That’s just cruel,” Jake drawled. “I thought I was your favorite.”
Your head turned before you could stop yourself. And just like that, your heart didn’t just skip a beat, it slammed into your ribs like it was trying to break free. Jake stood at the pool table, cue stick in hand, body bent low as he lined up a shot. His back arched just enough to make your mouth go dry. His biceps flexed as he adjusted his grip, veins prominent, forearms corded with strength. His khakis clung low on his hips, his flight belt hanging lazily from a loop.
He looked ridiculous. Unfair. Like he’d walked straight out of a damn recruiting ad, but dirtier. Infinitely more dangerous. Jake’s head lifted slowly, eyes cutting toward you from beneath those long lashes. The corner of his mouth tugged into a smirk when he caught you looking. Caught staring. “You wound me, sweetheart,” He added, standing to his full height. “All that charm, and I don’t even rank in your top five?”
You masked your thudding heart with a dry laugh. “I said favorite pilots,” You shot back. “Didn’t say anything about most high-maintenance.” The squad erupted in low chuckles, a few of them tossing mock “oofs” in Jake’s direction. Jake only grinned, unbothered, sauntering toward the group with that same easy swagger that made it impossible to tell whether he was teasing or flirting, or both. You forced yourself to look away, turning back toward the tray.
Yet, your stomach was doing somersaults, and the heat creeping up your neck wasn’t from the warm summer air drifting through the doors. You leaned your hip against the edge of the table, tray balanced on one hand, the soft clink of glass against wood fading into the background as you glanced around the table. Everyone looked a little less dead now, drinks in hand, shoulders relaxing bit by bit. “Do I need to talk to Maverick for all of you?” You teased, eyes flicking from one exhausted pilot to the next.
Bradley groaned loud enough to turn heads. “Please do. Tell him we're human. Or at least that some of us are.” Natasha scoffed, lifting her beer toward her mouth with a half-glare, half-laugh. “We were human. Until Mr. Hotshot over there decided he could outfly Mav.” All eyes slid toward Jake. “Okay, whoa. Let’s not point fingers here.” He was already making a face. “You tried to buzz Maverick,” Mickey interjected, half-leaning across the table with animated hands. “In a tight turn. In a no-fly zone.”
“And missed.” Reuben added between mouthfuls of peanuts, a smug grin spreading across his face. Jake raised both hands, feigning innocence with the precision of someone who’d practiced. “I wasn’t trying to buzz him. I was maneuvering. Strategically.” Javy snorted covering it up with a cough as he received a glare from Jake. “And we all got punished for it,” Bob chimed in quietly, lifting his Coke as if to toast to their shared suffering. “One hundred push-ups.” You winced at his words, that sounded brutal.
“In flight suits.” Reuben groaned, rubbing his shoulder like the soreness was still setting in. You clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter, the image forming vividly in your mind, Jake, cocky as ever, probably smirking even as Maverick made them drop. The others glaring daggers at him while dripping sweat onto the tarmac. Jake, of course, leaned into the attention with no shame. “You’re welcome, push-ups build character.” He grinned, sliding into the empty chair beside you with smooth ease.
You barely had time to register the motion before his arm draped over the back of your chair, knuckles grazing your shoulder. “You’re lucky they didn’t bury you under the tarmac.” Natasha muttered, but her lips twitched. Jake leaned a little closer, the heat of his body now radiating into your side. His voice dropped a note, low and velvety. “You know, I think I could use a little personal motivation to recover from today.” Your breath caught before you could control it.
His fingers brushed lightly against the bare skin of your upper arm as they “accidentally” adjusted across the tables edge. You turned toward him, ready to make some smart remark, maybe put him back in his place before he got too cocky again, but your gaze collided with his, and just like that… you froze. His eyes weren’t just green, they were alive with something deeper. Mischief, sure. But behind it, a flicker of something that made your stomach swoop. Like he wasn’t just teasing you tonight. He was waiting.
“Jake—”
“Y/N!” Your name snapped through the air like a whip, pulling you back to earth. You turned sharply toward the bar where Penny stood, waving a bar rag like a battle flag. “Bus just pulled up, I need you.” You groaned under your breath but moved fast, peeling yourself away from the table. Jake’s arm slid off your shoulders with a warmth that lingered longer than it should have, his fingers brushing your back as you stood. The moment broke, but not before you caught the small smirk tugging at his lips.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
“Try not to cause anymore trouble while I’m gone.” You grabbed the empty tray and backed away from the table, shaking your head. “No promises, sweetheart!” He called after you, voice lazy, teasing. But his eyes, they lingered. Watching you like a man who knew the exact altitude you’d started falling. You spun on your heel and disappeared behind the bar, pulse still hammering, trying to remind yourself that you were here to work.
But even as Penny tossed you a bar towel and pointed toward the flood of sailors crowding toward the taps, all you could think about was the warmth of Jake’s body next to yours, and how dangerously easy it would be to let yourself fall. Thankfully, the flood of newcomers provided the perfect excuse to busy your hands and bury your thoughts. You moved, mixing cocktails with quick flicks of the wrist, pouring beers until foam kissed the rim, sliding credit cards back with a polite nod and a practiced smile.
Every small task became a wall, something to hide behind. Something to keep your mind off of Jake. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself. As the crowd dwindled and the bar quieted into a low murmur, the shield began to crack. The last round of locals had migrated toward the dartboard. The jukebox slowed to soft rock. A few scattered voices still rose in laughter near the back where the Dagger Squad remained, sunburnt, beer-drowsy and content.
You peeled off your apron with a sigh and glanced at Penny, who gave you a reassuring nod and a knowing smile, motioning for you to take a breath, take a break. Your feet moved before your heart could object. You stepped out from behind the bar, every movement purposeful, steady, because if you hesitated, you knew the ache lingering just beneath your ribs might crawl up into your throat and give you away. You smoothed a hand down your shirt and walked toward the group, fully prepared to ask if they wanted one more round before last call. But then you heard it.
Jake’s voice.
Clear. Familiar. Cruel. Coated with disgust. “I just cannot stand her.” The words stopped you mid-step, your sneakers suddenly glued to the hardwood floor. The air left your lungs in one cold rush, and your feet carried you just far enough to place yourself behind the wooden beam beside the jukebox, half-hidden in the low light, half-ashamed for eavesdropping, but too frozen to move. “She walks around following me like a puppy, flirting, even her voice is annoying.”
Your pulse thudded in your ears, louder than the low hum of music, louder than the clatter of a dropped glass in the far corner. His voice cut straight through you, each syllable like a shard of glass. “She just doesn’t get the hint. I’m not interested in girls like her.” The blood drained from your face. You knew it. God, deep down, you always knew it. Jake Seresin was never going to want someone like you.
You’d seen the women he flirted with, tall, perfectly made-up, curves in all the right places, confident, playful, bright in the way that lit up a whole room. You? You were just the bartender. The convenience. The friend. The joke. The girl with rough hands from long shifts. The girl who hid behind sarcasm because confidence never came easy. The girl who, despite everything, had let herself believe, hope, that the way Jake looked at you sometimes meant something real. A dull ache bloomed in your chest. You pressed your hand against it like that would stop it from spreading.
At least now you knew. At least now the daydream could die. Now you could stop pretending. You swallowed down the lump clawing its way up your throat, nails digging into your palm as you pivoted, quick, silent and fast, back toward the bar. You didn’t even bother pretending to smile. Didn’t care who saw your glassy eyes or the way your breath came out shaky as you ripped the apron from its hook and slung it over the counter.
Penny turned, concern flickering across her face clearly noticing the entire shift in your demeanor, but you simply waved her off with a weak motion and a whispered goodbye. Not trusting your voice to hold steady. Not trusting her not to ask. If she so much as asked if you were okay, you’d break. You were out the door before Jake could even glance up. Before he could offer that sweet, mocking drawl. Before he could try to walk you to your car like he always did, like it meant something. Your heart couldn't take it. Not now. Not after that.
Back at the bar, Jake still reclined in the chair, nursing the same beer he hadn’t touched in ten minutes, finishing his train of thought with a huff. “I just hope Mav doesn’t put her on our training rotation again,” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve told her time and time again I’m not interested,” He continued with a groan. “She just doesn’t get the hint that she’s not my type.” Mickey nearly choked on his drink.
“Yeah, Hangman, we all know what girl is your type.” He grinned, elbowing Bob. Bradley leaned in, all smugness and raised brows. “The pretty bartender you make eyes at every time she’s near? The one you nearly punched me over for breathing near last week?” Jake froze. Bradley tilted his beer toward him, that smirk spreading. “The one you pretend not to care about, then sulk like a teenager when she walks away with anyone else?” Javy whistled. “Dude, just admit it. You’re into her. Bad.”
Jake ran a hand over his face, jaw tightening. “Shut up before she hears you.” But as he turned to glance toward the bar, expecting to find you rolling your eyes behind the counter, maybe catching his gaze just long enough to blush, his brows drew together. You weren’t there. Your station was empty. No apron. No sarcastic smile. No parting wave. Just… gone. His chest tightened without reason. You never left without saying goodnight.
A flicker of unease passed through him, but the others were still laughing, throwing teasing comments like darts, unaware of the sudden shift in his expression. He forced a grin, let the moment pass. But something inside him knew. Something felt wrong. And you, already halfway down the boardwalk with tears blurring your vision, didn’t get to hear the rest. Didn’t get to hear the way his voice softened when he talked about you.
You were cautious, careful, even. Every move you made around him became intentional. Guarded. Since that night, since the moment his words gutted you like a blade between the ribs, you’d started pulling away. Not all at once. No. That would’ve been too obvious. And despite the ache still lodged in your chest like a stone, you refused to let Jake, or anyone else, see you unravel. Instead, it was subtle. Gradual. A slow withdrawal masked as busyness, exhaustion, distraction.
When Jake came to the bar now, you didn’t linger. You took his order without looking him in the eye, handed him his beer with a polite smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. No teasing remark. No small talk. Just efficient, impersonal service. The kind you gave to strangers. The kind you gave to men you didn’t want to know. And you definitely didn’t allow his touch to linger, not that he’d had much chance.
Gone were the moments where his fingers brushed yours over a glass, or the way his hand would rest at the small of your back when you passed too close. You kept distance now. Measured it. Maintained it like it was a lifeline. You didn’t let him close. And Jake? He noticed. At first, it was subtle confusion. A longer-than-usual pause when you walked away. A look that lingered too long as you joked with Bob or nudged Natasha’s shoulder with a grin that used to be his.
Then it turned into something else, hesitation, maybe even hurt, though if it was, he didn’t show it outright. Luckily, or maybe tragically, the squad had been kept busy by Maverick all week. Long hours on the tarmac. Briefings that dragged past sunset. Extra sims, surprise drills, and mock dogfights that left them sore, sweating, and barely able to keep their eyes open when they dragged themselves into the Hard Deck each night. It gave you an excuse.
To work the bar, serve the drinks, and disappear behind orders before Jake could try and ask what was wrong. It was easier this way. Safer. You told yourself it would fade, the sting, the weight in your chest, the memory of hearing her voice is annoying and I’m not interested in girls like her whispered in that same drawl that used to melt you. But it didn’t fade. It stayed. Like smoke in your lungs.
You heard it in the silence after your shift when the beach was quiet and the waves were the only sound. You felt it in the ache behind your ribs when someone mentioned his name in passing. You even dreamed about it, twisting memories into warped versions where his words echoed again and again, his face turned away from you, laughter in his throat while you stood invisible behind the jukebox. You hated how much it hurt.
You hated that it still mattered.
The fifth night after it happened, the bar was quieter than usual, just a slow Thursday, a break between storms. You were stacking clean glasses behind the bar when Jake walked in alone. No squad. No backup. Just him. He looked tired. Disheveled in a way that felt different than post-training exhaustion. Like he hadn’t been sleeping much. His hair was messier than usual, shirt a little wrinkled, tags tucked into his collar like they were suddenly too heavy to wear out in the open.
You felt his eyes on you the second he stepped through the door. You didn’t look up. You couldn’t. He approached the bar slower than normal, his boots echoing too loudly in the now-quiet space. You busied yourself with organizing lemons. Limes. Anything not him. He stopped a few feet short of the bar. Didn’t speak. Not right away. Finally, his voice broke the silence, low, cautious, unsure. “You alright?” You kept your gaze focused on the citrus you were already over-slicing. “Fine.”
“You’ve been distant.” He murmured, like he was still trying to piece it together. “Did I do something?” You shrugged. Cool. Detached. “Just tired, Jake.” A lie. But he didn’t push. He just studied you, jaw working slightly like he was chewing on whatever thoughts were flooding in. “Right,” He said eventually, voice quieter. “Of course.” You turned to put the knife down, finally meeting his eyes for a split second. And it nearly undid you.
Because Jake wasn’t smirking. He wasn’t cocky. He looked…confused. A little wounded. The way someone does when they’ve lost their grip on something they didn’t even know they were holding. But you couldn’t tell him the truth. You couldn’t admit that the thing you’d overheard, the words that weren’t meant for your ears, had unraveled you completely. Because what if you were the only one who misunderstood?
What if, worse… you hadn't? So you turned away. Left him standing there with his fingers curled slightly over the edge of the bar, like he wasn’t sure whether to stay or walk away. Jake didn’t push. He never did. But that didn’t mean he didn’t notice. And tonight, you knew he’d felt it, that little bit of space you’d suddenly started putting between the two of you. Because if he kept getting closer, you wouldn’t just fall.
You’d crash.
The days blurred. Long shifts, short sleep, aching feet, and a heart you couldn’t seem to quiet. You kept your rhythm sharp, precise, like it was armor. You showed up, moved through the motions, mixed drinks, gave smiles, told stories to sailors who needed a little kindness. And avoided Jake Seresin like he was a fault line waiting to break beneath your feet. You weren’t cold. Just distant. Detached in a way that made you feel like you were watching your life from the outside in.
It didn’t go unnoticed. Late one night, the bar winding down into a lazy hum, Penny passed you a glass of water and leaned her elbows onto the bar. You felt her gaze before she spoke, quiet, steady, knowing. “You alright, Y/N?” You didn’t look at her. Just nodded, wiping down a spill that didn’t need wiping. “I’m fine.” It was clipped. Dismissive. Enough to signal that the door was closed. You had mastered the lies and excuses, yet Penny wasn’t stupid.
She knew you like the back of her hand. She watched you for a few seconds longer, watched the way your eyes didn’t meet hers, the way your fingers trembled slightly when you reached for the towel. She gave a tiny, imperceptible sigh, then pushed away without pressing no matter how much she wanted to know what was wrong with you. Safe to say, you were grateful for it. Because if she had asked again, your walls might’ve just cracked.
Jake wasn’t doing any better. After your "talk", if you could even call it that, he’d been a wreck. Not the kind anyone outside the Dagger Squad would immediately notice. No, Jake Seresin still smiled at the rookies. Still strutted across the tarmac with his usual confidence, boots scuffing against the concrete, sunglasses low on his nose like he didn’t have a care in the world. But those who knew him best could see the cracks forming.
The way he flinched when your name was mentioned. The way he scanned the bar every time he walked into the Hard Deck, hoping, praying, that this would be the night you looked at him like you used to, eyes soft, smirk tucked behind your lip, leaning on the bar like you were daring him to flirt first. But that look never came. And it was driving him insane. Even in the air, his escape, his safe place, he felt off. Slower. Sloppy in a way that set off alarm bells in every seasoned pilot’s gut.
His reaction times were lagging, the sharp, lethal precision that earned him the call sign Hangman dulled under the weight of something heavier than G-forces. Natasha had picked up on it immediately. “You’re flying like you’ve got a piano strapped to your back,” She muttered through comms one afternoon after a sim run went sideways. “The hell’s going on with you?” Jake’s jaw had locked so tight, he didn’t even answer. Back on the ground, it was no better.
Bradley had cornered him near the locker room the next morning. “You’re off, you look like you haven’t slept in weeks.” He told him bluntly. Jake ran a hand through his hair, matted from the helmet. “I’m fine.” Even he didn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “You’re not.” Jake simply shrugged. “Let it go, Rooster.” But they didn’t. Not really. They just watched. Waited. Wondered what the hell had happened that turned cocky, unshakable Jake Seresin into a man unraveling from the inside out.
What they didn’t know, what he wouldn’t dare say aloud, was that it was you. The problem was you, or more accurately, the way you’d slipped through his fingers before he even realized how tightly he’d been trying to hold on. He didn’t understand it. How things had gone from warm glances and shared touches and that night where you had almost let something real slip between you… to now. To this cold distance. Where you wouldn’t so much as look at him unless it was absolutely necessary. And the worst part?
He didn’t know what he’d done.
The nights dragged on like this. Jake would come in with the squad, sit down like nothing was wrong, but the light in his eyes was gone. His jokes were duller. His smirk half-hearted. Even his beer sat untouched longer than usual, condensation dripping down the bottle as he watched you move around the bar like a ghost he couldn’t reach. Sometimes, he’d almost say something. His hand would twitch, or he’d lean half out of his seat, like he was on the verge of getting up.
Of walking over. Of fixing it. But you never gave him the chance. You never looked long enough to invite it. A deep, sinking pull in his gut. Like something was breaking open inside him and he didn’t know how to stop it. And so the distance remained, a thick, aching thing that hovered between you both, invisible to everyone else but suffocating just the same. Neither of you said a word. Neither of you walked away. But neither of you dared to move closer, either.
And it was killing you both.
Four days later, the Hard Deck was full, buzzing with heat and voices and that low, salty tension that clung to late summer nights on the coast. Dagger Squad was there, scattered across their usual pool table. Jake wasn’t with them yet. And for once, you were thankful. You could breathe without feeling his eyes track your every move. Or so you thought. You were behind the bar when you saw her walk in. Tall. Glossy.
Designer jeans that clung perfectly to her long legs and a strappy black tank that dipped low in the back. Blonde hair curled, nails perfect, and a walk like she owned every pair of eyes in the room. You recognized her instantly, one of the women you’d seen Jake flirt with a few times before. Only this time… she wasn’t looking at you. She was looking for him. And then, like a movie in slow motion, Jake walked in. He hadn’t seen her yet.
He was laughing with Bradley, dragging a hand through his hair, unaware of the way her eyes locked on him like a target. She moved toward him with purpose, lips already curling into a smile, like she knew he’d be hers the second he looked up. Your chest constricted so sharply it almost knocked the air out of your lungs. You turned away fast, heart hammering like you’d been punched. God. You were such an idiot. What were you expecting? That he’d pine over you?
That he’d choose you over someone like that? You braced your hands on the edge of the bar, the stainless steel biting into your palms. Don’t cry. Don’t cry here. Not in front of him. You grabbed two beers off the counter, trying to ground yourself in the moment. If she was what he wanted… fine. You weren’t going to compete for someone who’d already made their choice. But you could prove that he didn’t affect you anymore. At least, not on the surface.
So when you saw Bradley standing alone near the dartboard, you moved toward him without thinking, hips swaying just a touch more than usual, the corner of your mouth lifting in a practiced smirk. “Hey, Bradshaw,” You breathed as you passed him a beer, your fingers brushing his arm as you leaned close. “You winning?” He blinked, caught off guard by the softness in your tone, then chuckled low in his throat, catching on quickly. “I am now.” You laughed, light and teasing, and let your hand linger just long enough to be seen.
It wasn’t real. Not really. But it didn’t have to be. Not when Jake was watching. Because he was watching. Across the room, Jake's head snapped around the second he heard your voice. He’d been leaning against the bar, cornered by a girl with glossy lips and a laugh that grated on his nerves. She was touching his chest, twirling her straw between her fingers like a goddamn prop, but he hadn’t registered a single word she’d been saying.
Not since he walked in and saw you glowing in that golden Hard Deck light, laughing with everyone but him. But now? Now you were touching Rooster? His jaw clenched. There it was, that look. That flicker of heat buried deep in his eyes, something possessive and raw curling beneath his cool exterior. He was trying to keep it contained. Failing. You’d been giving him nothing but distance all week. Cold shoulders. Professional smiles.
And now you were here, cozying up to Bradley fucking Bradshaw, touching his arm like it meant something. Jake barely acknowledged the girl in front of him. Didn’t even glance her way when she laughed again, too loud, too fake. He stepped away like she wasn’t even there, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he moved. Fast. Direct. Heat rolling off him like the pavement in July. You tried to stay cool. Calm. Unbothered. But the second you felt him behind you, everything inside you began to splinter.
His shadow fell over you before his voice did, low and rough, like he was holding back something sharp. “Can we please talk?” No drawl. No swagger. Just those four words, spoken low enough for only you to hear. You turned slowly, lifting your gaze to meet his. And what you saw there made your throat go dry. His jaw was tight, lips pressed together like he couldn’t trust what might come out next. His breathing was shallow.
His chest rose and fell like he’d just finished a sprint. And his eyes, God, those eyes, were burning. Not with arrogance. Not even with anger. But with desperation. Desperation and hurt. Something cracked in your resolve. You'd spent days convincing yourself you didn’t care. That you were over it. Over him. That whatever you thought was between you had been imagined, one-sided. Stupid. But the way he was looking at you now? There was nothing one-sided about it. You hesitated. Your mouth didn’t move. But your heart answered for you.
You nodded.
And Jake exhaled like it was the first real breath he’d taken in days. Wordlessly, he led you outside to the back patio where the air was cooler, salt-stung and quieter than the inside. The string lights overhead glowed gold against the dark, and the music became just a dull vibration through the wood beneath your feet. Jake stopped near the railing, raking a hand through his hair like he didn’t know whether to speak or scream. His chest rose, then fell, like the effort to stay composed was costing him something.
“What the hell’s going on with you?” His voice wasn’t angry. It wasn’t even demanding. It was tired, frayed around the edges. You folded your arms across your chest, forcing your spine straight, your eyes sharp. “Nothing.” Jake scoffed. Harsh. Humorless. “Bullshit.” He stepped forward. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. You won't even look at me anymore.” You turned your face away, blinking too fast. The ache in your throat burned. “Maybe I’ve just been busy.” He exhaled through his nose, slower this time. “Did I do something?”
You wanted to scream. To shove the words into his chest and make him feel what you’d been carrying since that night. But fear twisted around your tongue like barbed wire. So you said nothing. Jake took a step closer. Slower now. Careful. Like you were something on the edge of shattering. And you hated it, hated how much you wanted him to reach out. To touch you. To say something that made it all make sense. “I—I heard what you said,” You whispered, voice thin and raw. His brow furrowed.
“That night. After training.” You swallowed hard. “You were talking to the squad. You said you weren’t interested. That I wasn’t your type.” A bitter laugh escaped your throat, hollow and trembling. “God, it’s my fault, really. I was stupid enough to believe that Jake Hangman Seresin, serial flirt, legendary pain in the ass, would ever want someone like me… when he could have Malibu Barbie throwing herself at him.” The words spilled out before you could catch them. Sharp. Bare. Bleeding.
Jake flinched. Confusion flashed first, wide-eyed, disoriented, then understanding slammed into him like a punch to the gut. “No,” He breathed, face paling, panic crashing behind his eyes. “You thought I was talking about you?” Your silence was answer enough. He stumbled back half a step, hands dragging down his face. Like he needed to wipe the guilt from his skin just to breathe. “Jesus Christ, Y/N.” His voice cracked. Rough. Gutted. “I wasn’t talking about you. God, no. I didn’t even know you were there.”
“Doesn’t matter.” You looked away, arms tightening around yourself like armor. “It does matter,” He snapped, voice raw. “You think I could ever, ever, talk about you like that?” His voice faltered, and he ran a shaking hand through his hair again, pacing once before turning back. “You think I’d look at you and say your voice is annoying? That I’m not interested? Are you serious?” You finally met his gaze, and what he saw nearly dropped him to his knees.
You weren’t angry. You were hurt. Really hurt. “I don’t think you meant to,” You whispered. “But you don't see me. You never do.” Jake looked like he’d been hit. The silence stretched, tangled between you, trembling and thick. Then he stepped closer. One step. Then another. His voice came softer now. Hoarse. Frightened. “I see you.” You shook your head. “I see you,” He repeated, louder this time, like if he said it enough it would finally reach you. “More than anyone ever has. And it scares the hell out of me.”
Your lips parted. A sound escaped, half-breath, half-sob, and the first tear slipped free before you could stop it. You turned your face away, but his hand lifted, gently brushing the drop from your cheek like it hurt him to see it. He hesitated, fingers twitching near yours, unsure if he was allowed. Then, with a breathless whisper, “Darlin’… I don’t want Malibu Barbie in there,” You blinked brows drawing in confusion. His hand hovered near yours, trembling.
“I want you. The girl who makes Bob blush. The one who doesn’t back down when I flirt, who gives it right back. Who knows when I’m lying through my teeth even when I don’t.” He reached again, this time slower, curling his hand around yours like it was sacred. Like letting go would ruin him. To his surprise, you let him. You didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. His fingers threaded through yours like they belonged there, like they’d always belonged there. And God help you… they did.
You were silent for a long time. Then, finally, so quiet it almost wasn’t real, you spoke pushing past the lump in your throat. “I thought I wasn’t enough.” Jake’s heart cracked clean in two. “You’re everything,” He whispered. “Everything, Y/N." Jake’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand like he couldn’t stop touching you now that you’d let him. His gaze was locked on yours, open in a way you’d never seen before, no walls, no smirk, no cocky bravado. Just Jake. Real. Unfiltered. Bleeding.
“I’ve been gone for you since the day you rolled your eyes at me instead of blushing.” You blinked, caught off guard. He huffed a breath that might’ve been a laugh if it weren’t so wrecked. “I flirted. God, I poured it on. You remember? That night I tried to buy you a drink and you told me to grow up and learn how to pour my own?” A reluctant smile tugged at your mouth. “You called me a heartbreaker.” You whispered recalling the moment as if it were yesterday. “Because you were,” He whispered, voice cracking just slightly.
“You are.” You swallowed, hard, but he didn’t stop. “I kept telling myself I just liked the chase. That I could move on. That you were just another pretty face behind the bar, except—” He shook his head, jaw tightening. “You’re not.” Your brows knit, but you didn’t look away. “I told you about my dad.” Jake’s voice dropped, softer now. “I didn’t even realize I’d done it until after. I’ve never talked about him. Not to anyone. Not like that.” The memory came back instantly. That night after last call, lights dimmed, your elbows resting on the bar between you.
He’d looked so tired, so open. You’d asked one small question, something about his hometown, and suddenly he was talking about Texas and silence and a man who never really told his son he was proud. Jake stared at you now, breathing hard like he was barely holding himself together. “You didn’t say anything when I told you. You just… listened.” He looked down, eyes catching on your joined hands. “You let me be someone I don’t let anyone see.” He swallowed. “I noticed everything about you, Y/N.” Your lips parted, but nothing came out.
“I know you hate wearing your hair down when you’re working because it sticks to your lip gloss and drives you crazy. I know you pretend to be annoyed when Bob leaves peanut shells on the bar, but you never actually throw them away until after he leaves, because you don’t want to make him feel bad.” Your eyes stung. His voice was reverent now, like he was listing truths he’d memorized like scripture. “I know you tie your apron the same way every night, double knot on the left, even though you’re right-handed,"
"You hum when you count cash. You clench your jaw when you’re about to cry and you never cry in front of people, and—” He exhaled, blinking fast. “I know how it felt. That night you sat beside me after training, shoulder to shoulder, not talking much.” He was close now. Closer than before. “I replay that night more than I want to admit,” Jake murmured. “The way your knee brushed mine and you didn’t move it. The way you leaned into me without even realizing it. I wanted to grab your hand so bad, but I was scared it’d ruin it. Scared you’d pull away.”
You hadn’t realized your breath had hitched until he reached up, gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m not scared now.” You were blinking back tears. “I was falling for you then,” He breathed, thumb brushing the edge of your jaw. “And I’ve just kept falling. Every damn day. Even when you stopped talking to me. Even when it felt like you were slipping through my fingers and I didn’t know why.” His voice dropped to something trembling and soft. “You’re it for me, Y/N."
"The real thing. No games. No stupid lines. Just you.” You opened your mouth and closed it. Shaking your head, just slightly. “But I’m not your type.” You whispered, voice thick with emotion. Jake smiled, and it wrecked you. “Darlin’,” He coaxed, stepping even closer, pressing your joined hands gently against his chest. “You are every type I didn’t know I needed. You’re the only girl I’ve ever wanted to stay for.” Your heart was a drumbeat in your throat. Jake leaned in, breath warm and uneven between you.
“I want late nights on this patio with you. I want to sit on your kitchen counter while you complain about your day and steal your snacks. I want you in my bed. In my arms. In my life. All of it. You.” The tears spilled freely now. “I don’t want Malibu Barbie, or any of those girls who laugh at jokes I didn’t even tell. I want the girl who saw straight through me before I even knew who I was.” Your fingers clutched his shirt now, knuckles white. Jake leaned his forehead gently against yours, voice barely a whisper now.
“I love you, Y/N.”
The words hung there, raw, open, real. And for the first time in weeks, the ache in your chest lifted. Because he meant it. And he’d never looked more terrified… or more certain. Your breath caught. There it was, laid bare between you. His heart, stripped and beating in your hands. Jake Seresin, the man everyone thought was untouchable, cocky, invincible was standing here, terrified. Loving you with everything he had. For the first time in weeks, the fear that had been curling like smoke in your chest started to ease.
But it didn’t vanish. Because you were still scared. Not of him. Of you. Of how badly you wanted this. How deeply you felt it. How vulnerable it made you to need someone this much. You lifted your head slowly, his forehead still resting lightly against yours, your breaths mingling in the salt-tinged air. “I love you too Jake.” You whispered, and it cracked something open inside both of you. His eyes squeezed shut as he let out a slow, unsteady breath, like he’d been drowning, and those words were the air he’d needed for weeks.
“But I’m scared,” You admitted, your voice trembling, fingers still clutching his shirt. “Scared that this is just a moment. That you’ll wake up one day and realize I’m not what you want. That I’ll never be enough.” Jake opened his eyes, and the look on his face made your chest cave in. There was no hesitation. No uncertainty. Just devotion. He cupped your face like you were something fragile but precious, like he was honored just to hold you. “Y/N…” He breathed, stepping even closer, until your body was flush against his.
“I’m gonna spend every damn second we have proving just how wrong that voice in your head is. Every second.” You blinked fast, your heart pounding against your ribs like it was trying to reach him. “I’ll show you,” He whispered, thumb sweeping along your cheek. “Not just once. Not just tonight. Every day. I’ll show you in the mornings, when you’re grumpy and still half-asleep and stealing the covers. I’ll show you when you’re mad at me, and I’ll deserve it, but I’ll still be there, because I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed the corner of your mouth, just barely.
Like he didn’t want to overwhelm you, only remind you he was there. “I’ll show you when things get hard. When I have a bad day, and you have worse, and we’re tired and angry and still choosing each other anyway. That’s love, darlin’. And I’ve got it bad for you.” Your breath hitched, and your hands came up to grip his forearms. “I’ll prove it in every single look, every word, every time I hold your hand or brush your hair behind your ear or make you laugh after a long shift,” He murmured.
“I’ll remind you that you’re it for me. You’ve always been it.” The tears returned, but this time they came softer. You looked at him through the blur, voice nearly lost. “What if I fall even harder?” Jake smiled, gently resting his forehead against yours again. “Then I’ll be there to catch you. Every damn time.” You didn’t mean to lean in first. Maybe it was the look in his eyes, wild with devotion, soft with fear. Maybe it was the way he said you’re everything like it was the simplest truth in the world.
Maybe it was just that you couldn’t take it anymore, the aching distance, the space you’d both been tiptoeing around for too long. But suddenly your lips were on his. It was slow, searching. Like you were both discovering what it meant to be held this close by someone who knew you, who had seen you, in the mess, in the fear, in the fire, and chose you anyway. Jake let out a broken breath against your mouth.
Like he’d been waiting for this moment longer than he wanted to admit, and kissed you like it might kill him not to. It started slow, trembling. His hands cradled your face with aching reverence, thumbs trembling slightly against your cheekbones. But the second your fingers curled into his shirt and your lips parted on a gasp, everything between you snapped, weeks of tension combusting all at once. He kissed you harder. Hungrier.
One hand slid into your hair, curling into your ponytail, while the other held your waist like he needed you closer. Like he couldn’t bear another second of space between you. His mouth moved against yours with heat and purpose, lips molding, tongue brushing yours, breath hitching as your bodies pressed together like magnets pulled tight. You whimpered softly against his mouth when he tilted his head and deepened the kiss, the sound swallowed by him as if he’d been starving for it.
He tasted like mint and beer and Jake, home, somehow, even in the chaos of it. Your teeth grazed, breath catching. Then your tongues slid together again and it was messy and warm and real. His hand fisted gently in your hair. You pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt, dizzy from how easily your body molded to his, how his chest rose and fell in stuttering exhales, like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. He kissed you like it was a promise.
And you kissed him like it was the first breath after drowning. Jake finally broke the kiss, gasping softly, but only just enough to press his forehead back to yours, breath mingling, both of you shaking. “Believe me now?” Jake grinned, the edges of his mouth still curved from that kiss, the one you were still trying to catch your breath from. He leaned in, nudging your nose with his playfully. Your lips twitched into a smile, still dazed. “It’s hard not to after a kiss like that.”
He chuckled low in his throat, the sound warm and rich, before dipping his head to press one last, lingering kiss to your lips, this one slower, softer, like a promise more than punctuation. “Come on,” He murmured against your mouth, hand already sliding into yours. “I want to show off my girl.” Your heart fluttered hard in your chest, giddy and unsteady. His girl. You could definitely get used to that. The two of you walked back toward the patio doors hand-in-hand, the cool ocean breeze still trailing behind you.
Jake was practically glowing, his grin wide, his shoulders relaxed in a way they hadn’t been in weeks. You could feel his thumb tracing slow circles against your knuckles as you walked, grounding you in the surrealness of the moment. As you stepped into the warm buzz of the Hard Deck, the shift in the room was instant. Bradley let out a long, low whistle, raising his beer. “Well, finally.” You flushed instantly, heat crawling up your neck as Natasha gave you a knowing grin from across the table.
Jake didn’t even hesitate. Still beaming, he strolled right up to the squad’s table, pulled out an empty chair, and dropped into it without letting go of your hand. Before you could react, he tugged you gently down into his lap. You gasped, startled by the sudden PDA, hands bracing against his chest as he held you there, one arm wrapped around your waist like a vice, the other resting lazily on your thigh. His body was warm beneath you, solid and steady, and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like you had to hide.
Now that he had you, really had you, Jake Seresin clearly had absolutely no intention of letting go. The squad erupted in cheers and teasing jeers, beers clinking, boots scuffing against the wooden floor. But then something caught your eye. You watched, wide-eyed, as Mickey, Reuben, and Javy each reached into their wallets and started sliding bills across the table, straight into the waiting hands of Natasha and Bradley. “Hold on,” Jake barked, brows shooting up. “You assholes had a bet going?”
“Please. We’ve been placing bets since the second she didn’t slap you the first night.” Natasha leaned back smugly, counting her winnings with all the grace of a champion poker player. “I thought I heard someone say ‘by Valentine’s Day or bust.’” You muttered, staring at Bradley as he fanned out a crisp stack of twenties. Jake turned, brows raised in mock betrayal. “Bob.” You looked toward the quietest member of the group, who was sheepishly sliding a twenty toward Natasha, cheeks flaming.
“Not you too!” You gasped dramatically. “I-It was obvious.” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “We were all just waiting for the two of you to stop being blind and realize you were already in love.” Mickey stayed matter-of-factly. Jake groaned, shaking his head with a dramatic flair. “Unbelievable.” But then he turned, eyes softening as he looked at you. “Well you’re right about one thing Fanboy, damn straight I love her.” He declared, suddenly and loudly.
His words were loud enough to carry over the music, his drawl curling around the words like honey. The table lost it, laughter exploding around you, but all you could do was stare at him, your cheeks burning, your heart thundering in your chest as he tugged you tighter into him, pressing his lips to your temple, warm and unashamed. And just over Jake’s shoulder, you caught a glimpse of the blonde from earlier, the one who’d been leaning against him when your heart had first started to break.
Her mouth twisted, her eyes narrowed. She scoffed, turned on her heel, and stormed out of the bar without so much as a backward glance. Only, Jake didn’t even see her leave. Because his focus was entirely on you. Not some bottle blonde who he didn’t know the name of. As you leaned back into his chest, the smell of salt and citrus and something utterly Jake wrapped around you like a memory, you realized you weren’t afraid anymore. Not of falling. Not of love. Not with him holding you like this, like he’d waited a lifetime to.
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Just imagine him getting touchy and protective w a side of jealousy
joaquin torres is the most jealous guy you know
WARNINGS: (MDNI) suggestive content, jealousy, possessiveness, making out in public (maybe i have an exhibition kink, so what?), fem!reader, established relationship
A/N: thank you sm for requesting!! please think of me as your resident joaquin torres girl 😼 also sorry this isn’t like super suggestive, i just didn’t know how much NSFW you wanted so yeahhh!!
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joaquin torres is the most jealous guy you know, and you can see it every time someone gets too close to you. his girl. he’s the type to start fights or cause a scene. no, he couldn’t be more subtle than that. not when it came to you.
you’re at the bar with some friends and you get up to get the next round of drinks when some guy comes up to you. getting too close to you, standing in your personal space and introducing himself. his name went in one ear and out the other. you honestly couldn’t care less. he goes to caress your arm but you jerk it away before he can. he doesn’t seem to take the hint though, continuing to flirt.
joaquin looks over, wondering what was taking you so long when the sight he’s met with makes his jaw tighten and his eyes narrow just a little too much. he tries to play it cool, maybe throws in a casual joke with his buddies, but it’s clear he’s noticing every word that guy says to you.
it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he can literally see the tension in your shoulders. joaquin just doesn’t love how quickly other guys think they can slide into your space. and it’s that little spark of irritation that bubbles up inside him, turning what should be a fun night into a game of keeping his cool. which he loses. badly.
joaquin gets up and stalks over to where you are. he reaches you and wraps his hand around your waist, pulling you into him. you’re shocked, turning your head towards your boyfriend but he’s not looking at you. he’s staring down the boy across from you.
“hi i’m joaquin. her boyfriend.” he introduces himself but you can hear the passive aggressiveness in his voice. the guy seems to take the hint, nodding and walking away. if you knew it was that easy, you would’ve invited joaquin over ages ago.
you know your boyfriend. you see the fire in his eyes, his tight grip and the way he’s staring down the guy as he walks back over to wherever he came from. you don’t really care. all you care about is joaquin. and he’s jealous. you find it hilarious, truly.
you turn your body to joaquin, wrapping your arms around his neck. he places both hands on either sides of your hips. “jealous there, pretty boy?” you giggle into his ear.
“no.” he lies. you can tell from the way his grip on your hips get just a little too tight, like letting go will make you run away.
“i’m yours baby.” you move closer, whispering against his lips before pressing your mouth onto his. what was meant to be a kiss of reassurance quickly turned into a messy mixture of spit and swallowing each others tongues. his mouth devours yours, fighting for dominance.
you pull away for air and he’s eyeing you down. you can tell he wants to dive right back in but before he can, you’re pressing a hand to his chest to push him back.
“we’re in public joaquin. and i don’t really want everyone seeing you stick your tongue down my throat.” you say breathlessly.
“well then let’s get out of here so i can remind you who you belong to.” he grins as he says it and you’re rolling your eyes.
but as soon as you’re in the uber, you grab him by the hair. your fingers dig into his scalp and you’re pulling him back to you, lips colliding once more. you move for just a second to say “you don’t have to worry about anything babe. i’m all yours.”
against your lips you hear him mutter back. “mine.”
Summary: the first time Sam introduces you to Joaquin
Warnings: flirting, fluff, playful banter
A/N: I fell in love with this man during Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Completely forgot about him until I watched the new Cap the other night. So here’s this little before going to sleep drabble. As you will quickly be able to tell I love the idea of a Carol Danvers niece reader given the whole air force thing. Hope people enjoy. May write some more in the future.
Joaquin was smitten the second you walked into his house. When Sam said he was headed over with “some new recruit” he hadn’t expected you. A roughed up baseball cap on top of your head, faded baseball jersey, baggy oversized jeans and sneakers, dripping from head to toe and almost shivering.
“What happened?” Joaquin asked Sam as you tentatively stepped through the sliding door, not wanting to drip too much on this strangers carpet.
“He dropped me in the lake.” Your voice blurted out, completely unamused, shooting daggers at the still newly appointed Captain America.
“Yeah, well, still better that than a 40ft drop onto hard ground.” Sam retorted.
“Or you could have just not dropped me at all?!” You stressed, hands raised in the air, still in complete disbelief over this turn of events. “That’s the last time I’m ever flying with you.” You muttered and you saw Joaquin let out a little chuckle over the situation.
That’s when you really took him in. The guy who Sam sung the praises of. His supposedly best recruit, not that he would actually tell him that.
“Come on, I’ll get you a towel.” Joaquin said, leading you upstairs and to the bathroom.
“You wouldn’t happen to have anything I could change into, do you?” You asked him, as he handed you a couple towels.
“Umm, yeah, of course, I’ll just go find you something.”
You didn’t wait for him to return before you whipped off your clothes and immediately jumped in the shower to wash the murky lake water off of you. You were grateful that it was an old tub and shower curtain situation and not one of those see through glass cabinet shower situations, not that it didn’t stop Joaquin from blushing when he came back into the bathroom a few minutes later with some clothes in hand.
“Oh, sorry- I didn’t realise you were- I’ll just leave these- uh- yeah.” He rushed out before quickly shutting the door again.
He hesitated a moment as he stood with his back to the door, his brain fixated on the small glimpse he got of your naked back from behind the shower curtain. He could feel the flush in his cheeks. The smile that threatened his lips. He fought to hide it as he went back down to Sam in the kitchen.
“So who is she?” Joaquin asked as he grabbed a fresh cup of coffee and passed it to Sam before picking up his own previously discarded mug to finish.
“She’s a Danvers.” Sam said, as if the surname alone held a lot of weight, but Joaquin still didn’t bite. “As in Carol Danvers… Captain Marvel.” Sam said, walking him through it slowly until Joaquin’s face began to flicker with recognition. “Carol’s her aunt. Before she became Captain Marvel she was one heck of an Air Force Pilot. Kid saw what her aunt did and decided to pick up the mantle.”
“And she’s good?” Joaquin fished, a flame for the woman upstairs really taking hold as Sam kept adding more fuel to the fire.
“Yeah, she’s fucking great. Best female pilot I’ve ever seen.”
“So you looking to set her up with a pair of wings?” Joaquin asked, even though he had a hint of jealousy to his tone. He enjoyed being the only person other than Sam who had access to the now not so secret military wings, but he also couldn’t deny the new found need to go flying with you on a sunny afternoon and treat you to a picnic on the top of a mountain or something.
“We’ll see.” Sam said sceptically, but Joaquin knew from the way Sam had even brought you to meet him he thought you had what it takes.
“What are you two girls talking about?” You asked as you came striding back into the kitchen in a pair of Joaquin’s joggers and his old air force T-shirt. You were using a towel to squeeze out your hair and Joaquin couldn’t deny you looked right at home in his house, wearing his clothes.
“Lover boy here was grilling me about you.” Sam joked, taking in the way Joaquin looked at you.
“Was he now?” You asked feigning interest and playing up to the little bit in order to embarrass him, but as you sat across from him at the table and really took him in for the first time, you couldn’t deny he was handsome- and if the T-shirt he gave you had anything to say, you definitely had a lot in common to bond over.
“Uh- um- no- I-“ Joaquin began to stutter bashfully.
“It’s all cool dude,” you reassured. “I know he’s just messing. You really shouldn’t let him rile you up like that.”
Joaquin sighed before he leaned in closer to you, “How do you stay so calm around him?” He asked as if Sam wasn’t there and you had all the secrets.
“Eh, when you grew up being told about your badass aunt with actual super powers, some guy in a read white and blue bird costume is nothing.” You joked.
“Hey!” Sam pointed at you, “don’t you dare turn him against me or I’ll drop your ass in the lake again.”
“So you admit it! You did it on purpose.” You said, slamming your hand on the table animatedly.
“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. What are you gonna do about it?” He asked back, but you didn’t say anything more. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
You rolled your eyes at him before fixing them on Joaquin instead as Sam’s phone began to ring. You both turned your eyes on him as he checked the caller ID. “I need to take this.” He said, before getting up and dismissing himself, stepping out the back door to take the call outside.
“Would you like coffee?” Joaquin asked to break up the silence the two of you were left in.
“Umm, yes, that would be great.” You said with a smile and he got up to pour you a cup full from the pot.
“It looks good on you.” He said as he came back over a moment later and handed you the mug.
“What, now?” You said confused.
“Uh, my shirt,” he said with a shrug, as he committed to the statement. “It looks good on you.”
You couldn’t help but blush slightly under his gaze. He was cute and confident and oddly endearing. “Thanks.” You smiled, as he sat himself back down. “I guess I’ll keep it then.” You joked.
“The only way you’re keeping that thing is if you were my girlfriend.” He replied, half as a joke, half as a way of informing you just how much that shirt meant to him.
“Well I guess you better ask me on a date then.” You smirked playfully as he took a sip of his coffee and he almost choked as he spat it back into his cup. But before he could say anymore, Sam came back through the sliding door.
“Alright lovebirds, you can stop having your meet cute moment now, we gotta go,” he said to Joaquin.
“And what about me?” You said indignantly, feeling a little put out.
“He’ll be back in time to take you out on a proper date later.” Sam retorted, marching back through the house to get his shit from where he’d left it by the front door.
“And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?” You asked, completely brushing over the rest of what he’d said. “I don’t even live anywhere near here!” You stressed. “You just brought me here and now you’re gonna up and leave me here!” You said indignantly.
Joaquin froze in the middle of the hallway next to you, looking from his mentor and back to you as he tried to keep up with what’s going on. He felt conflicted. “I mean, can’t she just come with us.” He offered. “I mean, you brought her out here because you wanted to see what she could do. So I say let her.”
Sam looked between the two of you slowly, before he conceded. “Uh, fine. But if anything happens with her it’s on your head.” He warned but you were both smiling.
“So, is this technically our first date?” You ribbed him as he began to usher you out the door so he could lock up.
“We’ll see. Depends if you like it or not.” He mused and you had to admit, his cheeky smile did make you swoon.
“And if I don’t?” You asked with a playful twinkle in your eye.
“Don’t worry,” he reassured you with just as equal playfulness and innuendo, “you will.”
summary; The Daggers suspects Jake has a girlfriend when he starts taking homemade food to base every day.
word count; 3.7k
warnings; another secret girlfriend trope because i wasn't lying when i said i had a hundred concepts planned for this. FLUFF FEST
a/n; i just thought this was a funny concept!!! also i have to admit i thought about it after watching one of those tiktok videos of girls packing their boyfriends lunch hahaah
masterlist
It started with the lunchbox.
At first, no one said anything — it was Jake Seresin, after all, and he had a habit of doing things just for the attention. But when he showed up on base three days in a row with the same sage green Stanley lunchbox tucked casually under his arm — with a matching thermos, no less — it didn’t go unnoticed.
Especially not during lunch.
They always ate together. Spread out across one of the long tables in the hangar break room or under the shade of the awning if the weather allowed. Paper bags, energy drinks, and fast food wrappers littered the table like confetti most days. But not Jake’s spot. Not anymore.
His lunch was neat. Glass containers with perfectly portioned meals, color-coded and stacked. Shiny utensils instead of plastic. Napkins — actual cloth napkins. And he wiped his hands with them. His coffee came from the thermos now — not the break room sludge or the vending machine down the hall — and it smelled faintly of cinnamon and something warm and sweet none of them could place.
The rest of the Daggers tried to ignore it at first. They really did.
But when Jake pulled out a kale salad with pomegranate seeds and some suspiciously perfect grilled chicken on a Tuesday — after years of watching him inhale gas station taquitos and drink Red Bull like water — something snapped.
They began watching.
Not staring, per se — just... observing. Like scientists. Anthropologists. Phoenix was the first to spot the change in behavior: Jake no longer bought food on base. No quick donuts. No protein bars with expiration dates rubbed off. He came prepared. Bob noted the tiny container of homemade salad dressing and the lemon wedge tucked beside it. Fanboy spotted fresh herbs — fresh herbs — scattered over roasted vegetables one day. And Rooster, ever the skeptic, saw the glass container of couscous and nearly fell out of his chair.
Couscous.
That Thursday, they were all eating lunch together as usual. Burgers and fries, burrito bowls, leftover pizza — the usual chaos. Except for Jake, who opened his lunchbox to reveal grilled salmon, jasmine rice, and something that looked an awful lot like sautéed spinach with garlic.
Not a word was said at first. But the silence was loud.
Jake, as always, ate like it was nothing. Cool and composed. Not a hint of embarrassment. If anything, he looked proud of his meal. Maybe even smug.
The others exchanged glances over greasy paper bags and foil wrappers. Something was happening. Something had changed.
Jake wasn’t just eating better. He was glowing.
His hair looked shinier. His skin? Suspiciously clear. He wasn’t snapping at anyone. He wasn’t even being a smug jackass as often as he usually was. He still smirked — but it was softer. More amused than arrogant. And then there was the humming. Jake had been humming under his breath lately. Actual tunes.
The realization came slowly, then all at once:
Someone was making him lunch.
Not just anyone. Someone who cared.
The neat handwriting on the masking tape labels. The balanced meals. The lemon wedge. The cinnamon coffee. The fresh herbs. All from scratch.
That wasn’t meal prep. That was love.
And that’s when it hit them — they were dealing with a full-blown mystery girlfriend situation.
No one had seen her. No one had heard about her. But she existed. And she cooked. And she packed his lunch in a Stanley box like a 1950s housewife crossed with a nutritionist.
The Dagger Squad didn’t say anything that day. But they all knew one thing:
They were going to get to the bottom of it.
Even if it killed them.
The confrontation came on a Friday, and it was far from subtle.
They were all seated around the usual table outside the hangar — Phoenix, Rooster, Fanboy, Bob, Coyote, and Jake. The air smelled like jet fuel, sunblock, and desperation. Lunch had just begun, and once again, Jake pulled out his Stanley lunchbox with the same casual nonchalance of a man not being stalked by his coworkers.
Except he was.
Fanboy was the first to break.
“That’s it,” he said, slapping a napkin down like he was laying a court summons. “Who is she?”
Jake didn’t even glance up as he unscrewed his thermos. “Excuse me?”
Phoenix leaned in, pointing at his perfectly packed tupperware like it had personally offended her. “You used to eat vending machine peanuts for lunch, Seresin. Dry ones. With Coke Zero. Now you’re out here with your anti-inflammatory salmon and chia seed pudding.”
Coyote nodded solemnly. “You brought fruit yesterday, man. In a ceramic bowl. Who the hell owns ceramic bowls?”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “People who don’t eat like raccoons?”
Rooster squinted at the fork in Jake’s hand. “Is that... bamboo?”
“Reusable,” Jake said, chewing slowly. “It’s called being environmentally conscious.”
Bob looked genuinely impressed. “The presentation is really nice. There’s, like, a color theme every day.”
Jake shot him a warning glance. “Et tu, Floyd?”
Fanboy ignored him. “So? Who’s the domestic goddess making your lunches?”
Jake leaned back, slow and smug. “Y’all are acting like I can’t boil rice.”
Phoenix crossed her arms. “Jake, last year you set off the smoke alarm reheating soup.”
“One time,” he said. “One time.”
Rooster leaned forward, face dead serious. “Is your mom visiting or something? Be honest. She’s staying with you, right? That’s why you’ve been showing up with fucking lemon vinaigrette.”
Jake snorted. “My mother hasn’t flown in since Christmas, and if she were making my lunch, you’d all be dead from butter overload.”
Coyote grinned. “So it’s not your mom.”
Jake finally looked up, leveling them all with a cool glance. “Why are you people so obsessed with what I eat?”
“Because it’s suspicious!” Phoenix threw her hands up. “You have a thermos now. And that coffee smells like snickerdoodles. Your mood’s suspiciously stable. Your skin looks... hydrated.”
Rooster nodded. “I said that last week, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” Bob added. “And his hair’s been extra fluffy.”
Jake rubbed his temple. “Jesus Christ.”
Fanboy leaned forward like he was about to interrogate a suspect. “You’ve got a girl, don’t you?”
Jake’s jaw ticked. “Not that it’s any of your business—”
“He has a girl!” Rooster exploded, pointing dramatically. “He’s so in love, it’s disgusting!”
Phoenix gasped, shoving Jake’s shoulder. “Oh my God, you’re domestic now. Who is she? Does she do your laundry? Does she iron your flight suits? Is she a ghost?”
“She’s not a ghost,” Jake muttered.
“Wait,” Coyote said, eyes narrowing. “Have we met her?”
Jake took another bite of his grilled chicken like he had all the time in the world. “No.”
“Why not?!” the table chorused in complete offense.
Jake shrugged. “Because she’s smarter than all of you, and I wanted her to like me before she met the clowns I work with.”
Rooster clutched his chest like he’d been shot. “He’s ashamed of us.”
Jake sighed dramatically. “You’re like toddlers. Nosy, loud toddlers.”
“I bet she bakes,” Phoenix said. “She definitely bakes.”
“She pickles,” Bob whispered in awe.
“You’re in love,” Coyote said, grinning. “Look at him. Look at that dumb smirk.”
Jake wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin and raised his brow. “If you’re done analyzing my lunch like a bunch of food critics on meth, I’d like to eat in peace.”
But none of them were done. Not even close.
Because Jake Seresin — call sign Hangman, cockiest bastard alive — had a girlfriend.
And she packed him snack-size containers.
This was war.
When Jake walked through the front door, the scent of garlic and lemon greeted him first. Then came the faint hum of jazz from the kitchen speaker, and the soft shuffle of slippered feet across tile.
He closed the door behind him, shrugging off his flight jacket, and tossed his keys into the ceramic bowl by the entryway — the one you made yourself at that pottery class you dragged him to two months ago. The bowl was hideous, all warped and crooked and smudged with a thumbprint in the glaze.
He wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“Incoming,” he called, his voice echoing down the hallway.
“In here!” you answered gently, just barely loud enough to carry. It was a voice that never quite matched the chaos of the world he came from. Soft, warm, comforting — like fleece and firelight and freshly baked bread. Everything he didn’t know he needed until he had you.
Jake stepped into the kitchen, eyes landing on your small figure standing at the stove, stirring a pan of sautéed vegetables like it was the most important job in the universe. You wore an oversized sweatshirt that hung halfway to your knees and fuzzy socks with little peaches on them. Your hair was clipped up messily, a pencil tucked through it. Your cheeks were pink from the heat, your eyes bright as you turned to smile at him.
His day melted off his shoulders the second you looked at him like that.
“Hey, darlin’,” he said, walking up behind you and pressing a kiss to your temple, then your cheek. “Dinner smells amazing. What is it?”
“Grilled salmon,” you said, reaching for the oven mitts. “Roasted sweet potato, asparagus, and quinoa with lemon zest. And I tried that raspberry vinaigrette you mentioned.”
Jake made a low sound in his throat, like a man witnessing divinity. “God, I love you.”
You giggled quietly. “You say that every time I feed you.”
“Yeah, well, it’s always true.”
He leaned over and snagged a slice of sweet potato from the baking tray. You batted his hand lightly with the spatula.
“No snacking,” you said, then softer, “You’ll ruin your appetite.”
Jake grinned, clearly unbothered. He slid onto one of the counter stools, still in his flight suit. “You would not believe the interrogation I was subjected to today.”
You turned off the burner and looked over, blinking. “Interrogation?”
“Oh yeah.” He pulled out his thermos, waved it for emphasis. “This. Your lunches. Apparently I’ve been exhibiting ‘suspiciously stable mood patterns,’” he added with exaggerated air quotes. “Rooster almost staged an intervention. Fanboy asked if my mother was visiting.”
Your eyes widened in concern. “Oh no, did I—did I cause a scene?”
Jake smirked, all teeth. “Babe, the scene was already there. You’re just the reason it’s gourmet now.”
You ducked your head, cheeks coloring. “They were really talking about my food?”
“Nonstop,” he said, voice softer now. “Bob noticed the color coordination. And I may have accidentally confirmed that yes, I’m off the market and eating like a real adult because of a certain little nutritionist I’m in love with.”
Your eyes flicked up to his, shy but glowing.
“Oh.”
Jake’s smile softened. He reached over the counter to brush a crumb from your chin. “Yeah. Oh.”
You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, nerves making your fingers twitch slightly. “Well... maybe they should just come over. For dinner. You know. If you want.”
Jake blinked. “Wait, you wanna meet them?”
You bit your lip, then nodded. “I mean... they’re important to you. And you’re important to me. I don’t want to be a secret.”
Jake stood, rounded the counter, and cupped your face with both hands, tilting your chin up gently. “You are not a secret. You’re my best-kept treasure. But if you want to meet the zoo I work with, I’ll happily unleash them on our home.”
You giggled nervously. “They’re not that bad, are they?”
Jake gave you a look. “One of them thought I was being poisoned because my skin started clearing up.”
You laughed out loud then, the sound like windchimes in spring. “Okay, maybe we’ll ease them in with dessert.”
“I’ll text them,” he said, already pulling out his phone. “Tomorrow night?”
You nodded, then hesitated. “Should I make the gluten-free pasta for Phoenix? I think you said she’s cutting back on wheat.”
Jake blinked. “You’re terrifying.”
“I’m thoughtful,” you corrected, nose wrinkling.
He kissed that exact wrinkle and pulled you close, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re perfect.”
And as he watched you pull out your little recipe notebook with color-coded tabs, already muttering about prep time and ingredients, Jake realized something:
His squad wasn’t ready for you.
But he was.
Jake had told them to arrive at 7:00 PM sharp.
Which, to be fair, was a bold assumption considering this group couldn’t even synchronize takeoff times most days — and yet, somehow, the entire Dagger Squad showed up early.
At 6:46 PM.
Jake opened the front door still wearing his "casual hosting" T-shirt — grey, a little snug on the arms — and a face full of horror as he looked past the group to his watch.
“You guys can’t read numbers?”
Phoenix blew past him like she owned the place, carrying a bottle of wine in one hand and a box of pastries in the other. “Relax, Hostess Seresin. We brought offerings.”
Javy followed right behind her, grinning. “We were hungry.”
“Some of us were excited to meet the mystery woman,” Bob added gently, clutching his own six-pack of sparkling water like it was a housewarming gift.
Jake pinched the bridge of his nose. “You couldn’t have just waited in the driveway like normal people?”
“Normal people don’t talk about you bringing Tupperware and homemade lemon water for two weeks straight,” Rooster said, stepping inside and looking around the open-plan living room and kitchen. “This is like… a holy pilgrimage.”
“Make yourselves at home,” Jake muttered dryly, closing the door as Payback and Fanboy filtered in, already bickering about who called shotgun on the ride over.
“Wow,” Phoenix said, setting her wine on the counter and surveying the kitchen. “This place is nice. Did you clean just for us?”
“No, he lives like this now,” Fanboy replied, eyeing the perfectly folded throw on the couch. “Ever since he started bringing soup in a thermos. It’s freaky.”
Jake opened his mouth to snap back, but was immediately distracted by the sound of a cabinet opening and the soft pad of your footsteps.
“Jake, can you—oh.” You stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, your eyes landing on the cluster of aviators now standing in the middle of your living room like excited kids on a school field trip.
You were wearing a soft blue sweater, an apron still tied around your waist, your hands lightly dusted in flour. Your hair was clipped back, your expression shy but warm, and for a second, nobody said anything.
Then:
“Oh my God, you’re real,” Rooster said, like he couldn’t help himself.
“You made the lemon lavender loaf?!” Bob added, awe in his voice.
You blinked, cheeks warming. “Um… yes?”
“Hi,” Jake said quickly, stepping forward to loop an arm around your waist. “Everyone—this is my girlfriend.”
The room erupted in a chorus of greetings.
You gave a tiny, polite wave and a nervous smile. “Hi. Welcome. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving,” Javy said, practically vibrating with joy.
You stepped aside, motioning toward the dining room. “Dinner’s almost ready. Please, sit, make yourselves comfortable. There are drinks on the sideboard, and appetizers if you’re hungry now.”
“Oh my God, there are appetizers,” Rooster whispered reverently.
The dining table was a vision: long and wooden with soft linen runners, candles, and mismatched vintage plates. On the sideboard sat homemade lemonade, cucumber water, fresh juice, and two pitchers of iced tea — one sweet, one unsweetened. Next to that, a tray of cheese-stuffed mini bell peppers, tiny crostinis with whipped feta and honey, and skewered watermelon cubes with mint and balsamic glaze.
You stood back, hands twisted in your apron, as the Daggers descended.
“This is witchcraft,” Phoenix murmured around a crostini.
“What’s in this?” Fanboy asked, mouth full.
“Ricotta, lemon zest, and love,” Jake said flatly, earning a soft elbow from you.
Bob carefully poured himself some cucumber water, looking like he was about to cry from joy.
“Okay,” Payback said after his second skewer, “so let’s talk about how you’re real. Jake Seresin told us nothing except that you packed his lunch and made ‘homemade marinara from scratch.’”
You flushed. “Well, I’m a nutritionist, so… food is kind of my thing.”
“Oh my God, he wasn’t lying,” Rooster said dramatically.
Jake smirked. “Told you.”
Dinner proper was a feast.
You brought everything out in waves, starting with fresh-baked dinner rolls still warm from the oven, followed by a creamy butternut squash soup served in delicate ceramic bowls you’d thrifted with Jake one weekend.
“This is…?” Natasha asked, spoon midair.
“Roasted butternut squash, a little coconut milk, ginger, and nutmeg.”
“I’m ascending,” Fanboy said seriously.
Jake leaned toward Bob, who had already finished half his bowl. “You should see brunch.”
Next came the main course: a honey-glazed salmon, lemon herb roasted chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, roasted rainbow carrots, a spinach salad with strawberries and candied pecans, and a quinoa pilaf with grilled veggies.
“Oh my God, this is what Jake eats every day?” Fanboy asked, already scooping seconds. “We thought he joined a cult.”
“I made a peanut butter and jelly today,” Payback said. “A peanut butter and jelly.”
“Meanwhile, I’ve been eating gas station sushi,” Rooster mumbled.
Jake just leaned back in his chair, arm resting on the back of yours, smug as hell. “Yeah, well. You know. She likes me.”
Natasha snorted. “You’re just lucky she doesn’t realize she can do better.”
You gave a soft laugh, tucking your face into Jake’s shoulder. “I think I’m right where I want to be.”
Jake pressed a kiss to your temple.
Around the table, groans of fake gagging.
Then came dessert.
Which, of course, you also made from scratch.
Mini lava cakes. Fresh whipped cream. Vanilla bean custard. A tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries. And, because Jake had casually mentioned it in passing last week, a tiny banana cream pie — just for him.
There was silence as everyone took the first bite of lava cake.
Then, from Bob: “Do you… do you give cooking lessons?”
Jake snorted. “Bob, don’t fall in love with my girlfriend.”
“Too late.”
Eventually, the night wound down. Everyone was stuffed, glowing, and a little in awe. Jake sat back with his arm around you, and the rest of the Daggers sprawled like satisfied house cats in every available seat.
Phoenix raised her glass of lemonade. “To the chef. And to the woman who somehow managed to civilize Hangman.”
You smiled bashfully as everyone echoed the toast.
As they filtered out with hugs and leftovers and more compliments than you knew what to do with, Fanboy paused at the door and turned back to Jake.
“Hey man,” he said, nodding at you. “You’re punching so far above your weight.”
Jake just grinned, watching you finish wiping down the table, a dreamy look in his eyes.
“Yeah,” he said. “I know.”
The house was finally quiet.
The last of the dishes were drying in the rack, the dining room table wiped clean, and the candles had long since flickered out. Outside, the crickets hummed a steady rhythm beneath the open kitchen window, and inside, the only light came from the under-cabinet glow washing everything in soft, honeyed warmth.
You leaned against the counter, still in your apron, still a little flustered from all the compliments. Your cheeks hurt from smiling, and your voice was hoarse from answering so many questions, but Jake? Jake looked at you like he could stay in this moment forever.
“Did you have fun?” you asked, brushing your fingers along the edge of the countertop, not quite meeting his gaze.
Jake didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped in front of you, gently untied your apron and set it aside on the counter. Then he leaned in, cupping your jaw with one hand, thumb brushing softly beneath your eye where the day’s effort still lingered.
“You are… incredible,” he said quietly.
You rolled your eyes, trying not to melt. “They were just hungry.”
“They were obsessed with you,” he corrected. “And for the record, so am I.”
You laughed, just a little. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m lucky,” he said, kissing your cheek. “That’s what I am.”
You hummed, looping your arms around his waist as he tugged you closer. The tips of your noses brushed. Your smile curled slow and sleepy as his lips found yours — slow, soft, a kiss made of everything unspoken. Thank you. I love you. Please don’t ever leave.
Jake pulled away just far enough to whisper, “You know I’d marry you for those lava cakes alone, right?”
You smacked his chest. “Go to bed, Hangman.”
He grinned. “I’m serious. That pie sealed it.”
You leaned up to kiss him one more time, quick and warm. “Brush your teeth first.”
“Bossy,” he said, but he was already walking away, barefoot and happy.
The next morning, at Naval Base North Island, the squad was gathered around the usual lunch table — same routine, same noisy chatter — when Jake strolled up like he didn’t have a care in the world, coffee thermos in one hand, and a pastel-colored bakery box in the other.
“Morning, sunshine,” Rooster called. “You recover from that feast?”
Jake smirked and plopped the box on the table. “Barely. But she sent me with these.”
Natasha blinked. “Wait… what’s that?”
Jake popped the lid. Inside: delicate rows of homemade pastries. Mini scones with lemon glaze. Tiny berry tarts. Swirls of buttery palmiers and flaky raspberry pinwheels. Each one placed with the care of someone who loved to feed the people her person loved.
“She made these?” Bob asked, already leaning in like he was in a dream.
“Packed them herself,” Jake said, lifting out a tiny wax-paper note that read, “For the squad. Don’t let Jake eat them all. Love, Me.”
“Oh my God, she likes us,” Fanboy gasped.
“She likes me more,” Jake said smugly, popping a tart into his mouth.
Natasha was already holding a scone delicately between her fingers. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
“You didn’t tell us she bakes,” Payback said through a mouthful.
Jake wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back in his seat like he’d just conquered the world.
No Persona to Hide Behind - Part Two (Jake Seresin x Reader)
Part One
Summary: Hangman might not be your type, but Jake just might be - no matter how hard you try to pretend he's not. (or the one where Jake asks you out)
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: swearing, little bit of a slow burn, reader works civilian job on base (potential incorrect naval lingo), does get a little steamy at the end
---
Monday mornings always felt like a dramatic kick back into reality. The Top Gun hangar was loud, full of the sounds of combat boots, tools, and the line of jets that felt never ending. Most days, you slipped back into the hangar environment swiftly, falling into the quiet rhythm of your tech station and lost yourself in grids and logs.
This Monday morning, your heart was hammering hard against your ribcage before you could even turn your computer on.
You kept your head down, minding your own business as you clicked through the F/A-18 reports, but your eyes kept forsaking you. They kept tracing themselves toward the flight line. There he was: Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin, center in a group of aviators. His flight suit was zipped up and his helmet tucked under his right arm.
Payback said something to make the group burst into fits of laughter, and Jake laughed his performative laugh, flashing that perfect smile. All the way from your station, you could feel the aura of "Hangman." He looked untouchable. Arrogant.
A knot of doubt started forming in your stomach. Saturday was a mistake, you thought, staring hard at some numbers sitting on your screen. The grocery store was phony. The jeans, his soft eyes, the blushing. You dreamed it all up.
The clock on your taskbar clicked to 0845, snapping you out of your negative thoughts.
From the corner or your eye, you saw a familiar stride heading towards you. A shadow fell across your desk as a tall figure blocked out the fluorescent lights above you.
"You know darlin, I looked at the radar this morning," he spoke to you, loud enough to hear over the hustle of the hangar. "But I didn't see anything about a storm rolling in. But looking at you, you're looking awfully gloomy over these data logs."
Your eyes didn't meet his right away. You made yourself type out one last sentence in the report before lifting your head up. He was leaning against your station, a cocky smirk on his face. His green eyes full of his familiar mischief. Hangman was in the building.
"Good morning, Lieutenant Commander," you said, your voice remaining professional. "You know, some of us do have to keep up with the multi-million dollar jets you try to break a few times a week."
Hangman let out a small chuckle, adjusting his stance. He leaned in just enough to where the theatrics faded slightly in his posture. His smile softened in to something more private. When he spoke again, his voice dropped to speak only in the small space maintained by you two.
"So," he softly spoke, his eyes locking onto yours with focus. "How was your cereal? Did you end up going for the fiber or the fun?"
The knot that formed in your stomach dissolved by his words, replaced by a warmth in your chest. It wasn't an act.
You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms. You were hit with a wave of confidence; the same one that hit you in the grocery aisle two days ago. After months of his teasing, you weren't just taking it anymore. Two could play at that game.
"I did end up going with the fun, truthfully," you said, tilting your head and letting a smile flirtatiously fall on your lips. You kept eye contact, your voice matching his quiet tone. "Though, if I'm completely honest, I think the company in the aisle was way more interesting than the cereal itself."
Jake froze.
The reaction was instant, and it was beautiful. For a split second, the Hangman armor cracked. His smirk was gone, and his green eyes widened in surprise. He didn't think you would ever bite back, let alone full on flirt with him. A small, almost unnoticeable red color formed on his cheeks.
You didn't say anything more as you enjoyed the view of the fighter pilot becoming disoriented over a single sentence.
The bubble you two created was quickly popped by a loud whistle from the tarmac. "Seresin! Briefing room, five minutes!" Javy shouted from the other side.
Jake blinked, coming back to reality. He straightened his posture up from the partition of your station. He looked at you, really looked at you, his eyes radiating with Hangman's captivation and Jake's warmth.
He adjusted his flight suit, his eyes never snapping away from yours. "Duty calls," he murmured, the familiar smirk landing back onto his face, though this time it was much softer. "Don't miss me too much while I'm up there."
He gave you a nod and a lingering look before turning around and heading toward the briefing room.
You watched his back as he walked away, your hand trembling just slightly as you reached for your water bottle. You took a sip as your chest started to tighten with anticipation.
Oh, you are seriously in trouble.
---
As the day was coming to a close, most of the mechanics had clocked out for the night, which made the massive space around you quiet.
You were standing on a maintenance scaffolding leaning nervously over the open cockpit of Jake’s jet. A diagnostic tablet sat in your arm as you ran a final sweep on the display wiring.
The unmistakeable sound of boots on the concrete echoed through the quiet hangar. You didn't need to look to know who it was.
"You know, they tell us that these jets are state of the art," a tired, raspy voice spoke from the floor. "But seeing you up there, I'm starting to believe the real part that's state of the art is entirely behind the scenes."
You glanced over the side of the scaffolding. At the bottom of the metal stairs was no other than Jake. You took one quick glimpse at him; he looked absolutely exhausted, but the sight of him made your heart stop.
His flight suit was unzipped down to his waist, the sleeves tied securely around his hips. It left him in a dark black tee shirt that was fitted to his chest. His hair was messy from his helmet, which he held loosely in his left hand.
"The state of the art is entirely structural, Seresin," you called down to him, turning your attention back to the tablet in your hands to hide the sudden blush on your face. "Though, if it were up to you pilots, I think you'd fly these things until the wings literally fell off."
"Hey, I think it's in the job description to push the limits," he said.
The metal stairs creaked as he climbed up them. He stepped into your workspace. The air quickly grew warmer, the smell of the air starting to fill with his scent. He leaned against the cockpit frame, looking down at your tablet, then up at you.
"Everything looking okay?" he asked. The normal banter was there, but his voice was lower, ditching the edge he usually had to it.
"Just about done," you murmured, your eyes remaining on the tablet. "Need to verify the pitch-rate gyros. You had kind of a hard pull during your drill earlier this afternoon."
"Yeah. The air was bumpy today," he said softly.
He didn't move away from you. He lifted his body from the jet, moving himself closer to you. The playful rhythm that you both had earlier in the day felt different now.
The hangar was empty, with no audience to perform for. The silence between you grew heavy, but charged with a tension that made your fingers move nervously over your tablet.
You could his eyes focused on your face intensely.
"Jake," you said, barely above a whisper. You decided to finally look up from the screen. "You're distracting me."
He had a sudden shift in his posture as he let out a ragged breath. His helmet dropped onto the pilot's seat in front of him.
He didn't stop himself as he stepped right into your space, his hands finding the metal railing on both sides of you. He trapped you between his arms and the jet.
"That's okay. I'm completely distracted," he admitted, his green eyes shooting into yours. Hangman was gone; Jake looked entirely undone.
"I have spent the last five hours flying in the air thinking about what you said to me this morning. I'm done playing this little game darlin. I don't want to wait until next weekend to hopefully run into you. Let me take you on a date."
Your heart felt like it stopped for a moment. The directness and honesty in his voice was intoxicating. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact. A small smile started to form on your face despite your nervous system making the rest of your body race.
You tilted your head up and made your voice quiet. "It depends. Is this Hangman asking me out or Jake?"
The effect of using his first name was immediate. His shoulders dropped, the shield he always wears completely fell off right in front of you. His face softened into something vulnerable. It made your chest ache. He got closer, closing the few leftover inches between you two.
His eyes locked into yours with honesty. "Jake," he promised. His voice was rough and sent goosebumps down your spine. "I promise you. It's Jake asking."
You became completely defenseless; there was no way you were saying no to him like this.
"Okay," you managed to breathe out, "tomorrow night."
A boyish joy washed over his face, and a smile broke across yours. The tension faded when he showed a real smile; one that made him look happier.
However, he quickly noticed how exposed he had been in the hangar, and he fixed himself. He swiftly grabbed his helmet from the cockpit seat and pulled away from you. Even though his body moved, his eyes focused on your lips for a long moment. The familiar Hangman smirk put itself right back on his face as he climbed down the scaffolding.
"Tomorrow it is," he said. "Don't hurt my jet before then."
You were left leaning against the metal railing, staring at the jet in front of you.
-
Monday was one thing. Tuesday was completely different.
The moment you woke up to your alarm, you were hit with the reality of what you agreed to the night before. In 12 hours, you were going on a date with Jake Seresin.
By the time you made it to base, the knot in your stomach was tight, and a nervousness took over your entire body. The confidence you found the day before was gone and self-consciousness took its place.
The hardest part? He wasn't hanging out at your station today. Most days, Hangman was incredibly hard to brush off. He always made sure his presence was known so he could get a reaction out of you. But today, he kept his distance; he was just as nervous as you were.
The realization of that hit you early on during the shift; he was strangely quiet, his hands in his pockets, his body completely still while listening to a briefing.
No words were spoken between the two of you. This Tuesday became a quiet war of quick glances. Where there's usually a blur of noise throughout the hangar, the day felt quietly cut by the tension held by your shared secret.
Around lunchtime you were at your desk, forcing your brain to wrap around fuel pump schematics. At the same time, you felt tense, as if someone was looking at you.
You raised your head and turned from the computer in front of you. Across the hangar, Jake stood with a wrench in his hand. He was standing next to Maverick, who he was supposed to be listening to, but he wasn't looking at him. He was looking straight at you.
The second his eyes connected to yours, all of the air in your lungs disappeared. He didn't smirk at you; he didn't wink. The expression on his face was soft, like his eyes were watching you intensely. It made your heart skip a beat.
You immediately shifted your face and looked at your computer in front of you, the smile that was appearing on your face unstoppable.
About an hour later, the roles reversed. Your eyes scanned the hangar as you stepped out of the tech office. You saw Jake over by a jet, inspecting a hydraulic line with Javy.
You let your eyes linger on his broad shoulders, watching how the overhead lights caught the golden blonde edges of his hair.
Almost as if he could feel your eyes on him, Jake's head snapped up. He looked past Javy, his eyes locking into yours even with all of the distance in between. It made you freeze - you expected him to break out the Hangman moves for his friend to see.
Instead, he gave you a small, private nod as his lips turned into a genuine smile. It was meant only for you.
Your boots were the only thing you could quickly find to lay your eyes on as your heart hammered against your chest. You hurried back to your desk before the heat could form a blush on your cheeks.
That was how the whole afternoon went: shared looks, breathless pauses, looking at the floor to hide your smiles. The anticipation for the evening ahead was intoxicating. It made every minute of work feel like an hour.
By 4:00, you two hadn't said a single word to each other. Yet, there's never been a time you've felt more connected to him. There was a sweet torture knowing that nobody else on base had any idea what you two were counting down to, and it was driving you absolutely crazy.
Your workstation clock felt like it was moving at half speed. You take your time packing up for the day, taking even more time to organize your tools in order to keep your hands busy and eyes off of the clock.
Around you, the office begins quieting down as people head home for the night. The anticipation and nerves for the night ahead of you however makes your chest tighten. Every shadow that passes your desk causes you to be more hyper aware than the one before it. You can't help but be distracted by the thought of how the night is going to go.
After many shadows of people wrapping up for the day, you catch the familiar stride of a particular one. Then the sound of the boots enters your ears.
Jake casually walks past your station, as if he's also just trying to make his way to the parking lot. His pace doesn't slow down at your desk; he knows as much as you do that any pause would cause suspicion. Tonight, he wants to have you entirely to himself.
As he gets closer to your station, he leans down just enough for you to catch the scent of his cologne. It hits you before his voice does.
He murmurs low and privately, "I'll pick you up at 7. Wear something casual."
You look up at him and catch him straightening back up. No wink, no cheeky grin - just another one of those genuine smiles he gave you earlier. The one that softens his face and warms his eyes.
You don't have time to reply. Before you can even take a breath, he is walking away towards the parking lot. Now you're officially counting down the hours until seven.
-
At 7:00 exactly, there's a sharp knock on your front door. When you open it, your breath hitches.
Jake is standing at the door, looking effortlessly like he just came out of a movie. He's wearing dark jeans and an olive green Henley, the shirt fitting him just right. It hugged his chest and shoulders perfectly, and the color made his eyes glisten.
For a moment, neither of you speaks. His eyes traced the lines of you fact, down your outfit, and back up to your eyes. Hangman, the one who always has some kind of comeback to throw around, is completely speechless. You made him completely speechless.
"Wow," he whispers, "hi."
You smile, a faint warmth creeping onto your cheeks. "Hi."
He takes you to a hidden Texan barbecue joint that he swears is as close to the real thing as you can get in San Diego. The atmosphere of the restaurant was loud and unrestrained, which helped remove any remaining tension that was between the two of you.
Sitting across from him at the table, you noticed every part of Hangman melt away from his personality. There was nobody around to impress or maintain the reputation; he was just Jake.
Conversation between two of you flowed effortlessly. You found yourself leaning into him, wanting to peel back every layer and figure out who Jake is outside of the hangar.
"Alright, Seresin," you teased. "Give me the real deal Where in Texas are you really from? Why did you actually join the Navy?"
Jake lets out a chuckle, his finger slowly tracing the rim of his glass. He looks up from his glass to you. "I'm from a little town outside of Austin," he starts, his voice softer than normal. "Texas is just so big, you know? I always craved more, wanted something bigger. Once I saw a jet fly over for the first time, that was it for me. It wasn't just about flying fast, it was about showing that I could conquer the toughest things the sky could bring. I simply wanted to be the best."
You nodded along, getting as much information out of him that you could. "And when you're not bossing people around at work or trying to break the sound barrier?"
"I'm surprisingly boring," he shrugs, a grin breaking on his face. "I'm somewhat of a perfectionist, if you haven't noticed. So I usually drag work home with me more often than not. I'll spend time fixing up an old truck or organizing tools to keep my hands moving. I don't really know how to slow down." He pauses and his fingers stop twiddling with the glass. He looks at you seriously. "And lately, I've been spending way more of my time thinking about you."
The confession hangs in their air, but it's not awkward. A sudden confidence floods over you. "Why me, Jake? Out of everyone there?"
Jake slowly reaches across the table, his thumb brushing the back of your knuckles so softly. "Because you don't buy Hangman," he starts quietly. "Everyone else in that hangar sees what I want them to, but you have managed to look right through it. You're so smart, you're slightly stubborn," he lets out a soft chuckle, "but the second you walk into a room, you're the only person who can manage to make me forget about everything else I'm doing."
By the time dinner is done and he's driving you back home, the temperature outside has shifted to something much cooler. He walks you up your steps, his face looking as if he's a little upset that's where the night is ending.
You unlock the door and step into the warm entryway, but you don't close the door behind you. You turn around to face him, leaning against the wooden doorframe.
"It's cold out there," you start playfully, "do you want to come in for a minute?"
Jake's eyes go wide, the question surprising him. But then his eyes go dark. "I shouldn't," he starts slowly, even though he's already taking a step in. "If I come in, I'm not going to leave."
"Then don't," you whisper.
He comes into the house fully. The second the door clicks, all restraint Jake had the rest of the night snaps. His hands find your hips and guide you back to the wall. There's no hesitation anymore. His mouth catches yours as he leans down, the kiss desperate, breathless, and revealing exactly how long you both have been waiting for that moment. One of his hands moves from your waist to your cheek, his palm cupping your jaw as he pulls you completely against him.
When he finally pulls back just an inch, he rests his forehead on yours. It's quiet for a moment, the only thing being heard is the sound of both of you trying to catch your breath. Jake stares at you, his eyes looking at your face in its entirety, ending on your lips.
Even with how dark it is in the room, you can see his vulnerability in his eyes. A vulnerability you've never seen in the hangar. Your heart is pounding against your chest. You can feel the heat radiating off of him.
His fingers find a strand of hair that he gently tucks behind your ear, his hand lingering a little too long.
"Ive been wanting to do this since the first time you ever argued with me," he admits to you. His voice was breathless and low, something you had never heard before.
You look into his eyes, a smile finding its way to your face. You whisper, "Well cowboy, you took way too long do do something about it."
A quiet laugh escapes his lips. He doesn't waste another second. His hands make their way to your waist again, his grip on you possessive and firm. He pulls you right back into him as your hands slides up the soft fabric of his shirt to the base of his neck. You fingers find their way into the short hairs at the nape of his neck to pull him in closer.
The trace of fear that lingered in your head, the voice that whispered I'm in so much trouble, completely vanishes. As his hands rest on your waist and he deepens the kiss, the fear turns into certainty.
You're not in trouble at all; you're exactly where you're supposed to be.
---
Ahh I hope you all liked it and I hope I did them justice!
The Hard Deck was in full swing when you arrived, the familiar sounds of pool balls clacking and Rooster’s piano playing. You spotted the Daggers immediately—they’d claimed their usual corner, already several rounds in by the look of it.
“Finally!” Phoenix called out, waving you over. “We started to think you’d ditched us.”
“Just had to finish some paperwork,” you said, accepting the beer Bob slid across the table to you. “Someone has to keep our maintenance logs actually up to date.”
“That someone doesn’t have to be you,” Fanboy pointed out.
“Yeah, but then it wouldn’t get done right.”
Jake appeared at your elbow, returning from the bar. “She’s got a point. I looked at Payback’s logs last week. Pretty sure he wrote one report in crayon.”
“It was red pen and the light was bad,” Payback protested.
You snorted and shifted over on the bench seat, making room for Jake to sit down. It was automatic now, this casual proximity. Over the past eight months since the uranium facility mission, the Daggers had become something like family. And Jake—somewhere along the way, he’d become something like a friend.
Which was strange, considering you’d started out wanting to throw him off the carrier.
“Alright, who’s ready to lose at pool?” Jake asked, standing and grabbing a cue.
“Big talk from someone who lost three games last week,” you said.
“That was a fluke.”
“Three flukes?”
“I was off my game.”
You stood, grabbing your own cue. “Sure, Hangman. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“You know what helps me sleep? Winning. Which I’m about to do.” He chalked his cue, then pointed it at you with a grin. “Loser buys the next round?”
“You’re on.”
Phoenix watched the two of you head to the pool table with an amused expression. “Those two are like siblings or something.”
“Mmm,” Bob said noncommittally, taking a sip of his beer.
You lost the game—barely—and true to the bet, headed to the bar for another round. When you returned, Jake had saved your spot next to him, his jacket draped over the back of the chair.
“Your seat, m’lady,” he said with an exaggerated gesture.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said, but you were smiling as you sat down.
The evening wore on in the comfortable way these nights always did. At some point, you got cold, and without a word, Jake draped his jacket over your shoulders. It smelled like his cologne and jet fuel, and you pulled it a little tighter around yourself.
“Thanks,” you said quietly.
He just nodded, his attention seemingly on Rooster’s story about a disastrous first date, but his hand briefly squeezed your shoulder before he let go.
Three months later, you were beginning to realize that the sibling comparison couldn’t have been more wrong.
It hit you at the worst possible moment—specifically, at 15,000 feet during a training exercise.
Jake’s voice crackled through your headset. “You’ve got two bandits on your six. Break left. I’ve got you.”
You didn’t question it, just followed his instruction. The move put you right in position for a clean shot on your target while Jake drew off the others.
“Nice flying,” you said once the exercise was over and you were heading back to base.
“You too. That break was perfect—you trusted me.”
There was something about the way he said it, the warmth in his voice.
“Always do,” you replied, and meant it more than you probably should.
There was a pause on the line, just a breath longer than necessary. “Good. Keep it that way.”
Later, in the locker room, Phoenix caught you staring at nothing with a smile on your face.
“Earth to base?”
You blinked. “Sorry, what?”
“I asked if you wanted to grab food before the Hard Deck tonight.”
“Oh. Yeah, sure.”
Phoenix studied you for a moment. “You good? You seem distracted.”
“Just tired,” you lied.
You weren’t tired. You were confused, because you were pretty sure you’d just spent the afternoon thinking about Jacob Seresin’s voice and the way he always seemed to know where you were in the sky, and how his rare genuine smiles—the ones without the cocky edge—made something flutter in your stomach.
Oh no.
Over the next few weeks, it only got worse.
You started noticing everything. How Jake always positioned himself between you and any potential threat during exercises, even when it put him at a tactical disadvantage. How he remembered your coffee order and sometimes showed up at your desk with a cup, claiming he’d “accidentally ordered an extra.” The way his eyes would find yours across the ready room, like he was making sure you were there.
One evening, you were the last two in the hangar, finishing post-flight checks. The sun was setting through the open bay doors, painting everything in gold and amber.
“You know,” Jake said, looking up from his clipboard, “I never get tired of this view.”
You glanced at the sunset. “Yeah, it’s pretty beautiful.”
“I wasn’t talking about the sunset.”
When you turned to look at him, he was watching you with an expression that made your heart skip. But then he grinned, that familiar cocky smile sliding into place, and gestured to his jet.
“I meant the F/A-18. What’d you think I meant?”
You threw a rag at him, and the moment passed. But you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d looked at you, just for that second.
Four months in, Coyote organized a beach day.
You arrived to find Jake already there, setting up a volleyball net with Rooster while the others claimed spots on the sand. When he spotted you, his whole face lit up.
“Hey! You made it!” He jogged over, and before you could say anything, he’d grabbed your beach bag. “Here, I saved you a spot. It’s got the best angle for the game and shade for when you inevitably need a break from the sun.”
“You saved me a spot?”
“Well, yeah.” He said it like it was obvious, leading you over to where he’d set up a blanket and umbrella. “Can’t have my favorite wingman getting sunburned.”
You were thankful for the warm weather. You felt your face turning pink.
The volleyball game was chaotic and competitive, exactly what you’d expect from a group of fighter pilots. At some point, you went up for a spike at the same moment Jake did on the other side of the net. You collided, not hard, but enough that you both went down.
“Shit, sorry,” Jake said, immediately bracing himself so his full weight wasn’t on you. “You okay?”
You were on your back in the sand, slightly winded, looking up at him as he leaned over you with genuine concern in his eyes.
“I’m fine,” you managed.
His hair was a mess, falling across his forehead. There was sand on his cheek. He was close enough that you could see the exact green of his eyes, and suddenly all you could think about was what it might be like to just lean up and kiss him.
“You sure? You hit pretty hard.” His hand came up to brush sand from your shoulder, the touch gentle and lingering just a moment too long to be purely friendly.
“Hangman, I’m fine. It’ll take more than you to keep me down.”
His concerned expression shifted into something softer, almost tender. “There’s my girl,” he said quietly, then seemed to catch himself. “My favorite pilot. Fighter pilot. You know what I mean.”
He stood quickly and offered you a hand up. His grip was warm and steady, and when you were standing, he didn’t quite let go, his thumb brushing across your knuckles.
“You’ve got sand everywhere,” he said, reaching up to gently brush it from your hair. “There. Better.”
Your heart was hammering, and from the way he was looking at you, you thought maybe his was too.
“Come on, get up!” Coyote yelled, and Jake stepped back, the moment breaking.
Later, as the sun started to set and the group migrated to a bonfire, you found yourself sitting in the sand with a beer, watching the flames dance. Jake dropped down beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked.
“That’s a terrible deal. My thoughts are worth at least a dollar.”
“Inflation’s hitting everything.” He turned to look at you. The firelight caught in his eyes, turned them almost gold. “How about I trade you? A thought for a thought.”
“That seems fair.”
“You first.”
You considered lying, but there was something about the night and the warmth and the way he was looking at you that made you want to be honest. “I was just thinking that I’m happy. Right here, right now. With all of you. It’s a good feeling.”
His expression softened impossibly more. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “It really is.”
“Your turn. What are you thinking about?”
He was quiet for a moment, and you could see him weighing his words. “I’m thinking that this—” he gestured vaguely at the group, the fire, the ocean, “—is the first time in my life I haven’t wanted to be anywhere else. The first time I’ve felt like…” He trailed off, then shrugged. “Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
Your knee was pressed against his. His hand rested in the sand between you, and you became hyper-aware of how easy it would be to just shift your hand those few inches and hold his.
“I know what you mean,” you said softly.
He turned to look at you fully, and there was something in his eyes that made it hard to breathe. “Do you?”
Before you could answer, Rooster called out something about making a supply run. Jake’s attention shifted, and the moment dissolved. But as everyone started debating who should go, Jake’s hand found yours in the sand, hidden from view. He laced his fingers through yours and squeezed gently.
You squeezed back, and even though neither of you said anything, you felt the warmth of that touch for the rest of the night.
Two weeks later, the Daggers were at the Hard Deck for Phoenix’s birthday, and everyone was several drinks in. You were playing pool with Bob while Jake and Coyote argued about something football-related at the bar.
“You should tell him,” Bob said quietly, lining up a shot.
You nearly dropped your beer. “What?”
“Hangman. You should tell him how you feel.”
“I don’t—how did you—”
Bob smiled, gentle and knowing. “I’m a WSO. I notice things. It’s kind of my job to see what other people miss.” He sank his shot and straightened. “The way you two look at each other when you think no one’s watching… For what it’s worth, I think he feels the same way.”
“You’re wrong.”
“I’m usually not.” He gestured with his cue toward the bar, where Jake was now looking in your direction. “Just think about it.”
The rest of the night, you did think about it. Thought about it through Rooster’s silly birthday serenade, through the group photos, through the way Jake kept gravitating back to your side, his presence a constant warmth.
At one point, you were squeezed into a booth together, and he leaned in close to be heard over the noise. “You having fun?”
His breath tickled your ear, and you had to resist the urge to shiver. “Yeah. You?”
“Best night I’ve had in a while.” He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, and you could see every fleck of gold in the green. “Good company makes all the difference.”
You were still thinking about it when you realized Jake was walking you to your car, the two of you having somehow separated from the group. The night air was cool, salt-tinged from the ocean.
“Thanks for walking me out,” you said. “You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.” He said it simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Besides, it’s late. I wanted to make sure you got to your car safely.”
You stopped next to your car, turning to face him. The parking lot was mostly empty, the sound of the ocean a constant backdrop.
“You’re a good friend, Jake,” you said, and watched something flicker across his face.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Friends.”
There was something in the way he said it, like the word didn’t fit quite right anymore. He stepped closer, and you found yourself holding your breath.
“Can I tell you something?” he asked.
“Always.”
He opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he reached up and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your cheek. “I’m really glad you’re here. That you stayed, I mean. After the mission.”
“Me too,” you whispered.
His hand was still on your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. You could see the moment he almost leaned in, the way his eyes dropped to your lips and his breath caught—
Your phone buzzed. You both jumped, and Jake stepped back as you fumbled for it.
Emergency recall. All personnel report immediately.
“Shit,” you both said at the same time.
Whatever had almost happened would have to wait.
The situation turned out to be a false alarm—a radar malfunction mistaken for a genuine threat. But it meant a long night on base, running checks and being on standby until the all-clear came at 0400.
You found Jake in the ready room afterward, slumped in a chair and looking exhausted. When he saw you, though, he smiled.
“Hey,” you said softly.
“Hey yourself.” He stood, stretching. “Hell of a way to end the evening.”
“At least it wasn’t real.”
You both stood there for a moment, and you could feel the weight of what had almost happened in the parking lot hanging between you.
“Earlier—” Jake started.
“I know,” you said. “Bad timing.”
“Story of my life lately.” He grabbed his jacket, then paused. “Can I walk you to your car? Seems like we keep getting interrupted, but maybe this time…”
“I’d like that.”
The walk to the parking lot was quiet, but it was a comfortable silence. When you reached your car, Jake turned to face you, and in the early morning light, he looked vulnerable in a way you’d never seen.
“I need to tell you something,” he said. “And I’m going to get it out this time before something else interrupts us.”
Your heart started hammering. “Okay.”
He took a breath, and when he spoke, his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it. “That thing you said, about me being a good friend? You’re right. You are my friend, one of my best friends.” He stepped closer, and you could see him gathering his courage. “But somewhere along the way, it became something more. And I’ve tried to ignore it, tried to tell myself I was imagining things, but I can’t anymore. Because every time I’m in the air, you’re the voice I listen for. Every time I walk into a room, you’re the person I look for. And every time you smile at me, really smile, it feels like—” He stopped, shaking his head. “I’m in love with you. I have been for months. And maybe that’s terrifying and complicated and could mess up everything we have, but I needed you to know.”
Your breath caught. You’d imagined this moment a hundred different ways, but hearing the actual words from him was something else entirely.
“Jake—” you started, but he kept going.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he said quickly. “I know this might not be what you want, and if it’s not, we can forget I said anything. I just couldn’t keep pretending that what I feel for you is just friendship when it’s so much more than that. You’re so much more than that.”
“Jake,” you said again, reaching up to touch his face. He went still under your hand, his eyes searching yours. “Let me talk.”
“Okay,” he whispered.
“I’m in love with you too.” The words came out soft but certain. “I have been for so long that I can’t even remember when it started. Maybe it was that day you brought me coffee and remembered exactly how I like it. Maybe it was during that exercise when you trusted me to have your back without question. Or maybe it was before all of that, and I was just too stubborn to see it.” You smiled, feeling tears prick at your eyes. “All I know is that you’re the first person I want to tell when something good happens. You’re the one I trust most in the sky and on the ground. And when you look at me the way you’re looking at me right now, I feel like I could do anything.”
“Yeah?” His voice was rough with emotion, and his hands came up to frame your face.
“Yeah.”
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, even though you could see he was trembling with the need to. “I’ve wanted to for so long, and I just—I need to know this is real.”
“Please,” you whispered.
He kissed you like he’d been drowning and you were air. His lips were soft against yours, tentative at first, like he couldn’t quite believe this was happening. But then you kissed him back, your hands sliding into his hair, and he made a sound that was half-laugh, half-sigh, pulling you closer.
When you finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against yours, both of you breathing hard.
“I’ve imagined that about a thousand times,” he admitted, “and it was still better than I thought it would be.”
You laughed, and he smiled, that real genuine smile that made your heart soar. “We’re really doing this,” you said.
“We’re really doing this.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. “I want to do this right, though. I want to take you on a proper date, not just stealing moments in parking lots at five in the morning.”
“I’d really like that.”
“Good.” He pulled back just enough to look at you properly, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to be able to do this. To just… touch you. Look at you like this.”
“I think I have some idea,” you said softly.
He kissed you again, slower this time, sweeter. When he finally stepped back, you were both smiling like idiots.
“We should probably get some sleep,” you said, though you made no move to leave.
“Probably.” He caught your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. “But first, let me ask you properly. Can I take you to dinner today? Later, I mean. When we’ve both slept and it’s a reasonable hour.”
“Yes,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I would love that.”
“Good.” He kissed your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours. “Drive safe, okay? Text me when you get home.”
“You too.”
He walked you to your driver’s side door and opened it for you, but before you could get in, he pulled you back for one more kiss.
“Sorry,” he said, not looking sorry at all. “I just—needed one more.”
You laughed against his lips. “I’m not complaining.”
Finally, you managed to get in your car. As you drove away, you watched him in your rearview mirror, standing there in the empty parking lot with the biggest smile on his face, watching you go.
Later that afternoon, you met Jake at a small café near the beach, somewhere quiet and away from the usual Dagger haunts. He was already there when you arrived, and when he saw you, he stood immediately, that soft smile blooming across his face.
He met you halfway, and before you could say anything, he pulled you into a gentle hug, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Hi,” he murmured against your hair.
“Hi,” you said, breathing him in.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “You’re beautiful. I don’t think I tell you that enough. Actually, I’ve never told you that, but I should have been saying it all along.”
You felt your cheeks warm. “Jake—”
“I mean it.” His thumb brushed across your cheekbone. “You take my breath away.”
He led you to a table in the corner, somewhere private, and pulled out your chair. When you were both settled, he reached across the table and took both of your hands in his.
“I have to be honest,” he said, running his thumbs over your knuckles. “I’m a little nervous. Which is ridiculous because I’ve flown combat missions, but somehow this feels more important.”
“I’m nervous too,” you admitted.
“Yeah?” His expression softened. “That makes me feel better.” He paused, looking down at your joined hands. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and this will have been a dream. That I’ll show up to base and you’ll look at me the way you always have, like I’m just your friend, and none of this will have happened.”
“It’s not a dream,” you said gently, squeezing his hands.
He looked up at you, and the vulnerability in his eyes made your heart flip. “I know we’ve been friends for months, and maybe we should take this slow, but I can’t help feeling like I’ve been waiting for you my whole life. Like every choice I made, every path I took, it was all leading me to you.”
“Jake,” you whispered.
“I’m not trying to scare you,” he said quickly. “I just—I need you to know how serious I am about this. About you. You’re not just someone I want to date. You’re someone I can see a future with. Someone I want to build a life with.” He brought your hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. “I know it’s early to be saying things like this, but I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and he immediately reached over to brush it away.
“Please don’t cry,” he said softly. “Unless they’re good tears?”
“They’re good tears,” you assured him, laughing a little. “Really good tears. Because I feel the same way. I think… I think I’ve been falling in love with you since the day you remembered how I take my coffee. Or maybe it was before that. But somewhere along the way, you stopped being just my teammate and became the person I can’t imagine my life without.”
His smile was radiant. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You turned your hand in his, palm to palm. “You make me brave, Jake. In the air and on the ground. You make me want to be better, to do better. And when I think about my future, you’re in every version of it I can imagine.”
He stood up, moving around the table, and pulled you up into his arms. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, even though you were in public, even though anyone could see.
“Always,” you said.
He kissed you soft and slow, like he had all the time in the world, like you were the only thing that mattered. When he pulled back, he kept you close, his forehead resting against yours.
“I’m going to be so good to you,” he promised, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m going to make you so happy.”
“You already do,” you said, your hands coming up to rest against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm.
He sat back down but pulled his chair closer to yours, keeping you tucked against his side. His arm draped around your shoulders, and you leaned into him, feeling more at peace than you had in months.
“Tell me everything,” he said. “When did you know? What made you realize?”
So you talked. For hours, you talked about all the moments that had led you here—the glances across the ready room, the touches that lingered too long, the way your hearts raced when you flew together. You talked about your fears and your hopes, about what you wanted this to be.
At some point, Jake laced his fingers through yours, bringing your joined hands to rest against his heart.
“I want you to know something,” he said seriously. “I’m all in. Completely. Whatever this is, wherever it goes, I’m with you. You’re not going to wake up one day and find out I’ve changed my mind. I don’t take this lightly—I don’t take you lightly.”
“I know,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “I trust you, Jake. With my life in the air, and with my heart on the ground.”
He turned to look at you, and the expression on his face was so full of love and wonder that it made you catch your breath.
“How did I get this lucky?” he asked, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch impossibly gentle. “How did I get you?”
“We got each other,” you corrected.
“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “We did.”
He kissed you again, soft and sweet, and you thought about how right Bob had been. Some things were worth the wait. Worth the fear and the uncertainty and the risk of losing the friendship you’d built.
Because what you had now—sitting here with Jake’s arms around you, his heart beating steady under your palm, the future stretching out before you full of possibility—this was worth everything.
“I love you,” he said quietly, like he just needed to say it again. “I really, really love you.”
“I love you too,” you whispered back. “So much.”
And as the afternoon sun streamed through the windows, as Jake held you close and pressed kisses to your hair, you knew that this was just the beginning.
That evening, you both showed up at the Hard Deck. Jake held the door open for you, and when you walked in, his hand found the small of your back—a touch that was clearly more than friendly.
Phoenix spotted you first. Her eyes went wide.
“Wait, what?” She set her drink down, looking between you. “I thought you two were like… I don’t know, siblings or something. You bicker constantly.”
“Turns out there’s a fine line between bickering and flirting,” you said, and Jake grinned, pulling you a little closer.
“So… you two are together?” Phoenix asked. “Like, together together?”
“Together together,” Jake confirmed, and the pride in his voice made you smile. “She’s mine, and I’m hers.”
Phoenix’s surprise melted into a genuine smile. “Okay. Okay, yeah, I can see it. Now that you say it…” She pulled you into a hug. “I’m happy for you. Both of you.”
Bob appeared with a knowing smile. “Took you long enough.”
“You knew,” you accused.
“I’m a WSO. I see everything.” He raised his beer. “Congratulations. You two are good together.”
The rest of the Daggers filtered over, and there was the expected teasing and congratulations. Rooster claimed he’d called it (he hadn’t), Coyote demanded to know why he’d been left out of the loop (Jake just laughed), and Fanboy wanted to know if this meant they had to stop making fun of Jake’s romantic disasters (you assured him it didn’t).
Through it all, Jake kept you close—his hand in yours, his arm around your waist, his attention always finding its way back to you like you were his true north.
At one point, you found yourselves out on the deck, the party continuing inside but the two of you stealing a moment alone.
“This is nice,” you said, leaning against the railing with Jake’s arms wrapped around you from behind.
“Yeah.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Think we can make this work? With the job and the squadron and everything?”
You turned in his arms to face him. “I think if we can trust each other at 15,000 feet, we can trust each other with this.”
He smiled, that soft genuine smile that was just for you. “I like the way you think.” He paused, his expression growing more serious. “I meant what I said earlier. About being all in. I want this—want us—more than I’ve wanted anything.”
“Me too,” you said, reaching up to cup his face. “You’re it for me, Jake Seresin.”
His eyes lit up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He leaned down and kissed you, sweet and slow and perfect, like he was savoring every second.
From inside, someone wolf-whistled, and you broke apart laughing to see the entire Dagger squadron pressed against the windows, watching with various expressions of delight.
“They’re never going to let us live this down,” you said.
“I don’t care,” Jake said, pulling you closer and kissing you again, deeper this time, putting everything he felt into it. When he pulled back, his eyes were shining. “Let them watch. I’ve spent months hiding how I feel about you. I’m done hiding.”
Description: Bradley warned Jake to stay away from you before Jake ever got the chance to fall for you. When it all comes out and the argument gets too loud and the house stops feeling safe, you leave without your phone, your bag, or your keys, and Jake and Bradley are forced to face what they have both done before they can bring you home.
Word Count: approx. 5.7k
Warnings: Past bad relationship. Trauma response. Shouting and arguing. Panic/anxiety. Secret relationship. Protective Bradley. Protective Jake. Physical fight between Jake and Bradley. Reader leaves the house alone at night without phone/keys. Rain, cold, and being missing overnight. Heavy guilt and fear. Hurt/comfort.
***
Bradley had told Jake not to go near you before Jake had ever touched you.
It happened outside the Hard Deck, months after you moved into Bradley’s spare room with two bags, a bruised kind of silence, and a smile that made everyone around you act softer without saying why. You were Bradley’s sister in every way that had mattered. Not by blood, but by late-night phone calls, old emergency contacts, shared Christmases, and the kind of loyalty people stopped questioning once they saw it up close. When your three-year relationship ended badly, Bradley had driven through the night to get you. He packed your things while you sat in his Bronco with your hands locked in your lap, and when he brought you home, he did not ask how long you needed. He just made up the spare bed and bought the cereal you liked.
Jake noticed you slowly at first, then all at once. Bradley caught him looking across the bar one night while you stood near Phoenix, arms folded around yourself, laughing quietly at something you almost looked like you believed was funny. Jake was not doing his usual thing. There was no grin aimed your way, no cocky little line waiting behind his teeth, no easy pursuit. He was just watching you with an expression Bradley did not like because it was careful.
“Don’t,” Bradley said, low enough that no one else heard.
Jake looked over, one brow lifting. “You want to be more specific, or are we working with caveman rules tonight?”
“My sister,” Bradley said. “Don’t.”
The humour left Jake’s face. He looked toward you again, then back at Bradley. “I’m not doing anything.”
“I know you. You do plenty before you call it anything.” Bradley stepped closer, beer hanging forgotten at his side, his voice still controlled but harder now. “She got out of something bad. She came here because she needed safe. Not exciting. Not complicated. Safe.”
Jake’s jaw tightened, but he did not look offended in the way Bradley expected. He looked like he understood enough to know he was not being given the whole story. “I know she’s been through something.”
“No,” Bradley said. “You know the version that fits in a sentence. You don’t know what it took for her to leave. You don’t know what she looked like when she got to my door.”
Jake went quiet then. He glanced through the window again and watched you tuck your hair behind your ear, your smile fading the second no one was looking directly at you.
“She’s my sister,” Bradley said. “Don’t even think about it, Seresin. Not with her.”
Jake looked back at him after a long second and nodded once. “Copy that.”
For a while, Jake tried.
He really did. That was the part nobody else would believe later, not even Bradley. Jake stayed on his side of the line so deliberately it became its own kind of confession. He did not flirt with you at the bar. He did not crowd you in doorways. If you sat beside him because it was the only free seat, he gave you space and aimed his attention somewhere safer. He treated you like something breakable, and you hated that enough to start talking to him just to make him stop.
It began with small arguments. You told him his pool game was ninety per cent ego and ten per cent geometry. He told you that was still more maths than Rooster had ever brought to the table. You stole his fries one night without asking, and he looked so surprised that you did it again out of spite. Somewhere in those ordinary things, Jake stopped looking like Bradley’s warning and started looking like a person who made you feel awake without making you feel hunted.
The first time he kissed you, it was in Bradley’s driveway after a grocery run.
You had both been sent out for party supplies because Bradley had decided hosting the team meant buying four bags of crisps and acting like that counted as catering. Jake carried the heavy bags inside while Bradley was still out, then followed you back to the porch for the last crate of drinks. He should have left. You should have gone inside. Instead, the porch light buzzed above you, and the two of you stood too close beside his truck while the night pressed warm around the house.
“Bradley told you to stay away from me,” you said.
Jake’s mouth twitched, but there was no real smile in it. “He did.”
“And you listened?”
His eyes moved over your face, careful enough that it hurt. “I tried.”
That was the thing that got you. Not a line. Not a grin. The honesty of it. The fact he looked almost frustrated by how badly he had failed at not wanting you. You should have stepped back. Instead, you said, “I don’t want you to.”
Jake did not move until you did. Even then, he was slow. His hand came to your jaw like a question, and when you nodded, he kissed you like he knew the difference between being wanted and being taken. You went inside ten minutes later with your mouth warm and your hands shaking, and Bradley asked why you looked cold when it was nearly seventy degrees outside.
The secret lasted six months.
It became a second life folded inside the first. Jake’s sweatshirt hidden under your pillow. His hand finding yours beneath tables where no one could see. Late-night texts from his truck parked two streets away because he would not come to the house unless you asked. Your toothbrush in his bathroom, tucked behind a razor like that made it invisible. He hated the hiding more than he said. You knew because he stopped smiling every time Bradley’s name came up between you, because the silence after became too full.
“We need to tell him,” Jake said more than once.
You always said, “Not yet.”
Jake tried to be patient because he knew Bradley was the one safe place you had run to when everything else collapsed. He knew you were afraid of what would happen if that place turned conditional, if Bradley looked at you with betrayal and made the house feel borrowed. Jake would go quiet every time you said that. Not because he disagreed. Because he knew the longer it went on, the worse the hurt would be when it finally broke open.
It broke open at Bradley’s house, during a party neither of you wanted.
The place was too full. Music from the speaker by the back door, people gathered in the kitchen, someone laughing in the hallway, beer bottles lined along the counter like Bradley had given up pretending anyone was using coasters. You had spent most of the evening moving between rooms, checking food, collecting empty cups, giving yourself jobs because jobs made it easier not to watch Jake.
He had arrived late, and you felt him before you saw him. That was dangerous too, how quickly your body knew where he was. He came through the front door with Coyote and Fanboy, smiling at something Payback said, but his eyes found yours in the kitchen almost immediately. It was only a second. Nobody else would have called it anything. To you, it was the whole night turning its head.
You were alone in the kitchen later, fighting with a bottle of salad dressing that would not open, when Jake stepped in behind you.
“Need backup?” he asked.
You did not look up because you were already smiling, and that was the problem. “Against a bottle?”
“I’ve seen men lose to less.”
“You especially?”
“You wound me.”
“You live.”
Jake came closer, but not too close. Even after six months, even with the house loud and everyone distracted, he still watched for the moment your body said no before your mouth had to. You set the bottle down and turned to him, and the smile left his face the second he saw how tired you were.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“That was too fast.”
“It’s a party. I’m supposed to be tired.”
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I’ve been avoiding being obvious.”
His jaw shifted. “I’m tired of pretending I don’t know what you look like when you’re about to cry.”
Your throat tightened. You looked toward the hallway, but no one was there. “Jake.”
“We tell him tonight.”
“No.”
“Tomorrow, then.”
“You said that last week.”
“No, you said not tonight last week. I’m changing tactics.”
You should have laughed. On any other night, maybe you would have. Instead, your face crumpled slightly before you could catch it, and Jake’s expression softened so quickly it hurt. He stepped in, his hand settling at your waist, gentle and familiar.
“I’m not ashamed of you,” he said quietly.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
You looked at him then. “I’m scared.”
His face changed, and whatever argument he had been ready to make died right there. “I know.”
The words were barely out before Bradley appeared in the kitchen doorway.
He had an empty beer bottle in one hand. His eyes dropped to Jake’s hand at your waist, then lifted to your face. You stepped away from Jake so quickly you knocked your hip against the counter. The movement made Bradley’s expression shift from shock into something worse, something hurt enough to become angry before anyone could reach it.
The music from the back room kept playing for another few seconds, cheerful and completely wrong, until someone turned it down.
Bradley did not look away from Jake. “How long?”
You said his name, but it came out small.
“How long?” he repeated.
Jake’s shoulders went square. “Bradshaw.”
“No.” Bradley stepped into the kitchen. “Do not do that. Don’t stand there in my house and say my name like you get to be calm about this.”
You moved forward slightly. “Bradley, please. Can we talk somewhere else?”
His eyes flicked to you, and for one second you saw him trying to listen. Then he looked at Jake again, and the hurt won. “How long has he been sneaking around with you?”
Jake’s voice hardened. “Don’t phrase it like that.”
Bradley laughed once, disbelieving and sharp. “You want to correct my phrasing?”
“Yes,” Jake said. “If you’re going to make it sound like something ugly happened to her instead of something she chose.”
That word landed badly. You felt it before Bradley even turned. His face changed, and your stomach went cold because you had seen that kind of shift before from someone else. A normal word becoming a weapon because the room was angry enough to sharpen it.
Bradley looked at you. “You chose this?”
It should have been a question. It should have meant, are you okay, did he push, do you want this, tell me what happened so I can understand. But it did not come out that way. It came out rough and hurt, like accusation had got to his mouth first.
You froze.
Jake noticed immediately. So did Phoenix, who had appeared in the hallway with Bob behind her and Coyote just beyond them. Bradley noticed a heartbeat later, and his face drained of colour.
“No,” he said quickly. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”
You were not really in the kitchen anymore. You could see it, the counter, the bottle of dressing, Jake’s hand half-raised and stopped in the air, Bradley’s face full of instant regret. But your body had gone somewhere older. Somewhere with a different man and a different house and the same feeling of being trapped between a raised voice and a door.
Jake moved toward you. “Baby.”
Bradley’s head snapped toward him. “Don’t.”
Jake turned on him, eyes suddenly furious. “Do not start with me right now.”
“Don’t call her that in front of me like I’m the problem here.”
“You are the problem if you keep sounding like him.”
The whole kitchen went silent.
Bradley moved before anyone expected it. He shoved Jake hard in the chest, not enough to send him down, but enough to knock him back against the counter. The bottle rattled. Phoenix swore and pushed forward. Jake came off the counter fast, not swinging, but close enough that Coyote grabbed his arm before he could make the decision.
“You don’t get to say that to me,” Bradley snapped.
“I’ll say it if it’s true.”
“It is not true.”
“Then stop scaring her.”
That hit the room like a thrown glass. Bradley looked at you again, and the devastation in his face almost cut through the fog, but then Jake pulled against Coyote’s grip and Bradley stepped toward him and the voices rose again.
“You lied to my face for six months,” Bradley said.
“I lied to you,” Jake shot back. “She was scared of losing you.”
“She should have trusted me.”
“She did. That’s why it hurt when you looked at her like she’d done something dirty.”
Bradley swung then. It was not clean and not planned, more shoulder and fury than fist, but it caught Jake near the jaw. Phoenix shouted. Coyote hauled Jake back as Jake surged forward, and Payback got between Bradley and the island with both hands up. The kitchen erupted around you, people talking over each other, Jake snarling Bradley’s name, Bradley saying something about his sister, Phoenix telling them both to shut up.
You slipped out while they were still fighting.
Nobody stopped you. Nobody even saw you go. That hurt later, but in the moment it felt like the only mercy left. You moved through the living room, past the abandoned drinks and the dark speaker and the front door standing slightly open from people moving in and out all night. You stepped onto the porch without your bag, without your phone, without your car keys. You kept walking because stopping would mean deciding, and deciding was too hard.
The night air was damp and warm. You walked down Bradley’s street with your arms folded tight around yourself, every shout from the house following you until distance finally swallowed it. You told yourself you would just go around the block. By the time you reached the corner, you were crying too hard to see properly. By the time you reached the main road, you could not remember whether you had turned left because you meant to or because your feet had chosen before your head could.
Back at the house, Jake realised first.
He had shaken Coyote off and was breathing hard near the counter, eyes still locked on Bradley. Bradley had blood at the corner of his mouth from where he had bitten his lip in the scuffle. The whole room was staring at them like nobody knew whether the worst of it had passed.
Then Jake looked toward the spot where you had been.
Empty.
His face changed so completely that Bradley followed his gaze before Jake said anything.
“Where is she?” Jake asked.
Phoenix turned. “She was just here.”
Jake moved past her, calling your name into the hall. Bradley went the other way, checking the living room, the bathroom, the back patio. Your phone was on the coffee table, buzzing with missed calls from Jake because he had been texting you from ten feet away before the party. Your bag was still on the chair. Your car was blocked in the driveway.
The front door was open.
Bradley stood in the entryway and stared at it.
The anger went out of him so fast it left him hollow.
Jake came back from the porch, face pale. “She’s not outside.”
Bradley grabbed his keys from the table. “She can’t have gone far.”
Jake’s eyes flashed. “You don’t know that.”
“She doesn’t have her phone.”
“I know.”
“She doesn’t have her car.”
“I know.”
Bradley turned on him then because fear needed somewhere to go, and Jake was still the easiest target in the room. “This is your fault.”
Jake’s face went still.
Phoenix said, “Bradley.”
“No,” Jake said, voice low. “Let him. Let him say it.”
Bradley stepped closer. “I told you to stay away from her.”
“And I didn’t.”
“You lied.”
“Yes.”
“You brought this into my house.”
Jake’s jaw flexed. “And you made that house feel unsafe in front of everyone.”
Bradley stopped like he had been hit again.
Jake looked wrecked saying it, but he did not take it back. “We both did this. So you can fight me later, or you can help me find her now.”
For a few seconds, they just stared at each other, both breathing hard, both afraid enough to be dangerous. Then Phoenix stepped between them again, but this time her voice was quieter.
“Go,” she said. “Both of you. I’ll send everyone else in pairs. Nobody goes alone, nobody corners her if they find her, and nobody makes this about their guilt when she’s the one missing.”
That shut them up.
Bradley and Jake left in separate vehicles at first because neither trusted himself in the same car. Bradley checked the beach, the corner shop, the little path behind the dunes, the car park where you sometimes sat when you needed quiet. Jake checked the old streets near base, the bus stop by the pharmacy, the petrol station, the parking lot behind the closed diner where he had once found you after a nightmare because you said the neon made the dark feel less deep.
They called your name into places you were not.
Midnight came and went.
Then one.
Then two.
The party had become a search by then. Phoenix kept a list. Coyote drove with Fanboy. Payback and Bob checked hospitals and late-night shops. Maverick was called, and his voice on speaker was calm in a way that made Bradley want to throw the phone across the room.
“Think like her,” Maverick said. “Not like you.”
Bradley stood in his empty kitchen with your phone in his hand and did not know how to answer that. He thought he knew you. He knew your coffee order and the way you liked the blankets folded on the sofa. He knew you hated being asked if you were okay in front of people. He knew you could not sleep with the bedroom door fully shut. But he had not known you were in love with Jake. He had not known you were afraid to tell him. He had not known that one wrong sentence from him could make you disappear.
Jake stood by the back door, soaked from checking the yard again though there was no reason to think you had doubled back. He looked at your phone in Bradley’s hand, then away.
“She texted me earlier,” Jake said quietly.
Bradley’s grip tightened around the phone.
“I’m not saying it to rub it in,” Jake added, voice rough. “I’m saying if you open it, there might be something useful.”
Bradley looked at him. For a second, the old anger tried to flare again. Then he saw Jake’s face, the fear sitting there too openly for pride to cover. Bradley unlocked your phone because he knew your passcode. He hated that he knew it and Jake probably did too.
The last message from Jake was still open.
I’ll come over after everyone leaves. Miss you.
Your reply sat underneath it.
I miss you too. I hate hiding this.
Bradley stared at the words until they blurred.
Jake looked away first.
Bradley set the phone down carefully. “We keep looking.”
They went together after that.
Not because things were fixed. Nothing was fixed. They went together because Jake knew places Bradley did not, and Bradley knew you in ways Jake could only guess at, and neither man could survive wasting another hour protecting his pride. The Bronco smelled like rain and old coffee. Bradley drove, jaw clenched, eyes moving over every pavement. Jake sat beside him with his phone in his hand, calling hospitals again, then Phoenix, then Coyote, then nobody because there were no new answers and his voice had started to break.
Around four in the morning, the rain started.
At first it was light, a fine mist against the windscreen. Then it came harder, turning the roads silver and emptying the streets of everyone except them. Bradley pulled over twice because he thought he saw you. Once it was a woman carrying a shopping bag with her hood up. The second time it was nobody, just a dark post box under a streetlight that his tired mind had shaped into your shoulders.
Jake got out anyway both times.
He came back drenched and silent.
By dawn, Bradley looked like a man who had aged overnight. Jake did not look much better. They pulled into a beach car park because they had run out of roads and sat there with the engine running, rain beating against the roof. Neither of them spoke for a long time.
Bradley broke first. “If something happened to her because of this...”
“Don’t,” Jake said.
“I made her run.”
Jake’s voice was flat with exhaustion. “I said don’t.”
Bradley looked at him. “You don’t get to tell me not to feel guilty.”
“I’m not. I’m telling you if you say the worst thing out loud right now, I’m going to lose what little grip I have left.”
Bradley looked away.
That was fair.
Jake stared through the windscreen, eyes red, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles were white. “She walked out because we were both too busy trying to win the fight. That’s the truth. We can hate ourselves later.”
Bradley swallowed, throat raw.
His phone rang.
Both of them froze.
Maverick’s name lit the screen.
Bradley answered so fast he nearly dropped it. “Mav?”
“She’s here.”
For one second, Bradley could not understand the words. Jake turned toward him, already pale, already braced for the worst.
Maverick repeated it, voice steady but thick around the edges. “She’s at my house. She’s alive. She’s soaked through and freezing, but she’s here. Penny’s got towels and tea. Call everyone off, then get over here.”
Bradley closed his eyes, and the sound he made barely counted as breathing.
Jake grabbed his arm. “She’s okay?”
Bradley nodded because he could not speak.
Jake dropped his head back against the seat and covered his face with one hand. His shoulders shook once, hard, before he got himself under control.
Maverick said, “Bradley, drive carefully.”
Bradley laughed once, broken and breathless. “Yeah.”
“I mean it,” Maverick said. “Both of you. She’s safe. Don’t turn yourselves into another problem getting here.”
Bradley looked at Jake.
Jake had already wiped his face with both hands and was reaching for his seatbelt.
“We’re coming,” Bradley said.
At Maverick’s house, you sat in the kitchen wrapped in two towels and one of Penny’s old jumpers, shivering so hard the mug in your hands kept ticking softly against the table. You had walked for hours without really meaning to. At first, it was just away. Away from the shouting, away from Bradley’s kitchen, away from Jake’s voice and Bradley’s voice tangling together until neither felt safe. Then the rain came, and you realised you had no phone, no money, no keys, and no clean way back.
You had ended up at Maverick’s because his porch light was on.
That was the whole reason, or the only one you could explain. His house was not Bradley’s, not Jake’s, not the Hard Deck full of people who would ask questions with their eyes. It was just a house where you knew someone would open the door and not shout.
Maverick had opened it at half six in the morning in sweatpants and an old Navy T-shirt. The second he saw you, drenched and shaking on his porch, his face had changed in a way that nearly made your knees go.
“Oh, kid,” he said.
You tried to apologise, but your teeth were chattering too hard to get the words out.
He did not ask questions then. He just got you inside.
Now he stood near the counter with his phone in his hand, watching you drink tea while pretending he was not watching your hands shake. Penny sat beside you, her palm resting lightly near your elbow.
“They’re on their way,” Maverick said after ending the call.
You looked up. “Both?”
“Yes.”
Your stomach tightened.
Maverick saw. “They’re not mad.”
“They should be.”
“No,” Penny said immediately.
You looked down into the mug. “I scared everyone.”
Maverick’s voice was firm. “You were scared first.”
That took the air out of you.
You blinked hard, but tears still slipped down your face. Penny reached over and took the mug before you could spill it.
A car came up the drive too fast, then stopped hard enough for gravel to spit under the tyres. Another engine followed right behind it. Your body went rigid before you could stop it, and Maverick moved toward the hall, but you stood too.
The front door opened.
Bradley came in first, soaked from the rain, hair flat, face grey with fear and no sleep. Jake was behind him, just as wet, one hand braced briefly on the door frame like he needed it to keep standing. Both of them stopped when they saw you.
For half a second, nobody moved.
Then Bradley crossed the hall and pulled you into his arms.
There was no hesitation. No anger. No careful speech prepared for the doorway. He just reached you and wrapped himself around you, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other locked across your shoulders like he could shelter you from the entire night if he held on tightly enough.
You froze at first because your body was still half back in the kitchen, still half listening for shouting. Bradley felt it immediately and loosened his grip.
“Is this okay?” he asked, voice wrecked.
You nodded into his chest.
He made a sound that was almost a sob and held you again, gentler this time but no less desperate. “I’m not mad,” he said quickly. “I’m not mad at you. I don’t care about anything except you being here.”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered.
“No. Not right now.”
“I didn’t mean to stay gone.”
“You’re here,” he said, and his voice broke on it. “That’s all. You’re here.”
Over his shoulder, you looked at Jake.
He had not moved closer. That hurt for one second, then you understood. He was waiting. Even after a night of searching, even with panic still written all over him, he was waiting for you to decide whether you wanted him near.
Your face crumpled.
“Jake.”
He crossed the space as soon as you said his name. Bradley did not let go completely, but he shifted, making room. Jake stopped close enough for you to reach him, and when you did, his hand covered yours with such care that fresh tears spilled down your face.
“I’m not mad either,” Jake said.
Your breath caught.
“I’m scared out of my mind,” he said, rough and honest. “But I’m not mad.”
You looked between them, both soaked, both exhausted, both looking at you like the whole world had narrowed to the fact you were standing in Maverick’s hallway in borrowed clothes.
“I left because you were yelling,” you said.
Bradley shut his eyes.
“I know.”
“I know you’re not him,” you said, voice shaking. “Both of you. I know that. But when it gets loud, I don’t always know it fast enough.”
Jake’s hand tightened around yours.
Bradley nodded, tears standing in his eyes now. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t want to choose between you.”
Bradley looked at Jake, then back at you. “You shouldn’t have had to.”
Jake nodded once. “That’s on us.”
Maverick appeared in the kitchen doorway, arms folded, expression stern enough to keep everyone from collapsing fully into the floor. “She needs dry clothes, food, and sleep. Whatever conversation the three of you are about to have can wait until she stops shivering.”
Penny added, “And until both of you change out of wet clothes before you drip all over my hallway.”
Jake let out a shaky breath that might have been a laugh if any of you had more left in you.
Bradley guided you back toward the kitchen with one arm still around you, and Jake stayed on your other side, not touching unless you reached for him. You did. Your fingers found his sleeve, and he looked down at your hand like it was the only good thing he had seen in twelve hours.
At the table, you sat between them with a blanket around your shoulders and a fresh mug of tea warming your hands. Bradley kept looking at you like he needed to keep confirming you were really there. Jake did the same, but quieter, his thumb brushing slowly over the back of your hand beneath the edge of the blanket.
Nobody asked where you had been yet.
Nobody asked why you did not call.
Nobody said you should have come back sooner, or scared them less, or handled it better. They were too relieved to mistake your return for a trial.
After a long silence, Bradley said, “The house is still yours.”
You looked at him.
His voice went rough. “Not because you tell me everything. Not because you make choices I understand. Not because you need me the way I think you should. It’s yours because I said it was, and I meant it. I made it feel conditional last night, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
Your throat closed.
Jake looked down at the table.
You turned slightly toward him. “And you can’t hide me anymore.”
His eyes lifted to yours immediately. “Never again.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.” He swallowed. “I should have told him. I should have taken the hit before it became yours to carry.”
Bradley’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. Not yet. He was learning too, maybe. Learning that not every anger needed to be fed the second it opened its mouth.
You breathed out slowly, still shaking under the blanket. “I don’t want you two to fight.”
Bradley and Jake looked at each other.
There was still a whole war sitting between them. Six months of secrets. Bradley’s warning. Jake’s promise. You in the middle of it, cold and exhausted in Maverick’s kitchen because both of them had let fear speak too loudly.
Bradley looked back at you first. “Not like that again.”
Jake nodded. “Never like that again.”
It was not fixed.
Nothing that mattered ever fixed that quickly.
But Bradley’s knee pressed lightly against yours under the table, and Jake’s hand stayed wrapped around your fingers, and Maverick stood at the counter pretending not to watch all of it with red eyes of his own.
Outside, the rain softened against the windows.
For the first time since you had left the party, the house you were in did not feel like somewhere you had to escape.
