bees + picnic for the spring ask game nova my dearest <33 miss u love u hope u are well !!!
My darling Kait!! Much love to you 🥰
Bees - what’s your go to spring outfit?
I love a floaty midi dress, denim jacket and trainers- I have the spring wardrobe of a middle class mum
Picnic - describe your ideal spring afternoon.
Going a drive somewhere nice for a walk (as the passenger princess of course), getting a nice coffee and lunch, and enjoying being out in the sun all day
i hope march lands softly like a bird on your shoulder and sings the sweetest song for you i hope its light drenches your soul i hope it leaves you stunned by its tenderness and more hopeful than ever
cactus ⇢ something you’re currently learning (about)?
Darling Alexa!!🫶🏻
I would say I’m currently learning about one of my New Year’s resolutions which was to be more conscious of my purchases, in particular not gravitating towards high end brands and expensive products (especially in skincare and makeup) and thinking more about using what I have and trying less expensive alternatives which are often just as good, if not better. It’s something I’m really enjoying and it’s saving me money!
summary: reader works in navy comms and jake falls in love with your voice ♡( ◡‿◡ )
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
“Dagger Two, this is Tower. Radio check, over.”
You adjusted your headset, scanning the screen in front of you as you waited for the response. Second week at North Island, and you were still getting used to the callsigns, the voices, the particular rhythm of these pilots.
“Tower, Dagger Two. Loud and clear. How me?”
The voice was smooth, confident—maybe a little too confident. You checked your roster. Dagger Two: Lieutenant Jacob Seresin, callsign Hangman.
“Dagger Two, read you lima charlie. Standby for departure clearance.”
“Copy, standing by.”
Professional. Clean. Exactly how it should be.
Over the next forty minutes, you guided Hangman and his team through their training exercise. Hangman was… chatty. More than most.
“Tower, Dagger Two. You know, you’ve got a great voice for this. Very authoritative.”
You rolled your eyes, though he couldn’t see it. “Dagger Two, maintain radio discipline. Confirm heading two-seven-zero.”
“Heading two-seven-zero confirmed. Just saying, it’s nice to have someone competent up there.”
“Dagger Two, save the commentary for the debrief.”
You heard him laugh over the radio. “Yes ma’am. Hangman is buttoned up.”
He wasn’t, really. Over the next several flights that week, you learned that Hangman always had something to say. But he was also sharp—never missed a check-in, never fumbled coordinates, always three steps ahead. The banter was just… extra.
“Tower, Dagger Two. Requesting flyby.”
“Negative, Dagger Two. The pattern is full.”
“Come on, Tower. Just one?”
“Dagger Two, that’s a negative. Stop asking.”
“You’re breaking my heart here.”
“Your heart will survive. Bring it around for landing, heading one-eight-zero.”
“Heading one-eight-zero. You know, one of these days I’m gonna find out who you are.”
“Focus on your landing, Dagger Two.”
Friday night. The Hard Deck was packed, and you were nursing a beer while Phoenix told a story about Rooster’s latest landing that had gone slightly sideways.
“I’m telling you, he almost clipped the carrier deck. Swears up and down it was textbook, but I was right there—”
“It sounds like Rooster,” you said, grinning. You’d met Natasha—Phoenix—during your first week since you moved bases. She’d shown up at the tower to dispute a training score and you’d liked her immediately: sharp, no-nonsense, with a wicked sense of humor. She’d taken you under her wing, introducing you to the good coffee spots on base and insisting you needed to “actually have a life outside of work.”
Hence the Hard Deck on a Friday night.
“Speak of the devil,” Phoenix said, nodding toward the door where Rooster had just walked in with a few other pilots. “Brace yourself. When the squad’s all here, it gets loud.”
You watched as they made their way to the pool table—Rooster with his ridiculous mustache, Fanboy excitedly explaining something while Bob listened with quiet interest, Payback and Coyote already bantering back and forth about who gets next game, and—
And a blond guy who moved through the bar like he owned it, that easy confidence in every step.
“That’s Hangman,” Phoenix said, following your gaze. Her voice had gone slightly flat. “Total player. Goes through women like he’s collecting trading cards. We fly together, but that doesn’t mean I like him.”
“You work with him?”
“Unfortunately. He’s a good pilot—one of the best, actually—but his ego could fill a hangar.” She took a sip of her beer. “Why? Please tell me you’re not interested.”
“No, I just—” You paused as Hangman laughed at something Rooster said, and that sound.
You knew that sound.
“Oh God,” you said.
“What?”
“That’s Dagger Two.”
Phoenix’s eyes widened. “Wait. That’s your chatty pilot? The one who keeps trying to flirt over comms?”
“I wouldn’t say flirt—”
“You literally told me yesterday, and I quote, ‘if Dagger Two makes one more comment about my voice, I’m going to revoke his radio privileges.’”
“That was— I was exaggerating.”
Phoenix was grinning now, clearly delighted. “Oh, this is perfect. Hangman has no idea he’s been annoying you for two weeks.”
“Nat, don’t—”
But Rooster had spotted Phoenix and was waving her over. Phoenix grabbed your arm, hauling you up. “Come on. This is going to be hilarious.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
The group made room as you approached, Rooster clapping Phoenix on the shoulder. “Took you long enough. We’re already getting destroyed at pool and need backup.”
“That’s because Hangman keeps calling impossible shots,” Bob said with a small smile on his face.
“They’re not impossible if I make them,” the blond guy—Hangman—said. Then his eyes landed on you, and that easy smile appeared. “Hey. I’m Jake. Don’t think we’ve met.”
Phoenix was practically vibrating with suppressed glee. “Jake, this is my friend. She just transferred here a couple weeks ago. Works in the tower.”
“Nice to meet you,” you said, extending your hand.
The moment you spoke, Jake’s expression shifted. His eyes widened, his head tilted slightly, and you watched recognition dawn across his face like sunrise.
“Wait,” he said, his grin spreading slowly as he shook your hand, holding it maybe a second longer than necessary. “‘Your heart will survive.’ Tower. It’s you.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, you absolutely do.” He stepped closer, completely ignoring Phoenix’s delighted snort. “That voice. Two weeks I’ve been listening to that voice, and here you are.”
“I told you to focus on flying.”
His laugh was the same one you’d heard over the radio a dozen times, but richer in person, warmer. “This is— I can’t believe this. Here I was thinking Tower was some grizzled veteran who’d seen it all, and instead you’re—” He stopped himself, but his eyes said the rest.
Rooster leaned over to Phoenix. “Is he… blustering?”
“I think he might be,” Phoenix whispered back, looking fascinated.
Coyote sidled up next to Jake with a knowing smirk. “Hangman’s actually speechless. Someone write this down.”
“I’m not speechless,” Jake protested.
“You kind of are, man,” Fanboy added, grinning as he chalked his pool cue.
You studied Jake for a moment. He seemed genuinely surprised, genuinely pleased. But Phoenix had warned you.
Player. Heartbreaker. The kind of guy who knew exactly what to say.
“Well, now you know,” you said. “Mystery solved.”
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“I have one.”
“Another one, then. After that one.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
He didn’t push, just settled back against the pool table like he had all the time in the world, though his eyes kept finding their way back to you.
“Fair enough. You any good at pool? We could use someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”
“She’s terrible at pool,” Phoenix interjected, grinning. “But I’ll play. You and me, Hangman. Let’s see if you can back up all that talk.”
As Phoenix and Jake started setting up, Rooster moved closer to you.
“Fair warning: those two are competitive. This might get ugly.”
“Nat can handle herself.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about Phoenix.”
You glanced at him, confused, but he was already watching Jake, who kept looking over at you between shots, like he was making sure you were still there.
You thought that would be the end of it. One conversation, curiosity satisfied, everyone moves on.
You were wrong.
Jake started showing up. Not in an obvious way—he was too smart for that. He’d just… appear. At the coffee cart you frequented before your shift. At the Hard Deck on Friday nights, always gravitating toward wherever you and Phoenix were sitting. At the O-Club when Nat dragged you to some mandatory fun event.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he’d say, like it was pure coincidence.
“It’s the base coffee cart, Hangman. Not exactly a secret location.”
“Jake. You can call me Jake, you know. When we’re not on comms.”
“I’m aware of your name.”
“Just making sure. You want anything? I’m buying.”
“I can buy my own coffee.”
“I know you can. I’m asking if you want me to.”
You’d usually say no. Sometimes you’d say yes, just to see what he’d do. He never made it weird, never acted like you owed him anything. Just handed you the coffee and asked about your day.
Phoenix noticed immediately.
“He’s like a puppy,” she said one afternoon, watching Jake walk away after delivering your usual order without you even asking. “A very tall, very blond puppy.”
“He’s just being friendly.”
“Uh-huh. Is that why he hasn’t looked at another woman in three weeks?”
“What?”
“You heard me. Hangman—king of the one-night stand, collector of phone numbers—hasn’t so much as glanced at anyone else since he met you.” Phoenix leaned back in her chair. “It’s actually kind of freaking the guys out.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“I’m really not. Ask Bob. He’s been keeping track.”
You refused to think too hard about what that might mean.
Over the radio, though, nothing changed.
“Tower, Dagger Two. How’s your morning?”
“Dagger Two, maintain radio discipline. You’re clear for takeoff, runway two-niner.”
“Copy that, Tower. Runway two-niner. Just saying, hope you liked the coffee earlier.”
“Dagger Two.”
“I’m going, I’m going.”
It was Rooster who brought it up first during their next squadron meeting.
They were at the Hard Deck, the usual Friday night crowd, and Jake had barely glanced at the brunette who’d been making eyes at him from the bar for the past twenty minutes.
“Hangman,” Rooster said, setting down his beer. “You feeling okay?”
“Fine. Why?”
“Because that girl over there is definitely interested and you haven’t even looked at her.”
Jake glanced over briefly. “Not my type.”
Phoenix nearly choked on her drink. “Since when do you have a type beyond ‘breathing’?”
“Funny.”
But then the door opened, and Jake’s attention snapped toward it immediately. His whole posture changed—straightened up, ran a hand through his hair.
You walked in, laughing at something on your phone, completely oblivious.
“Oh my god,” Phoenix said, even though she’d seen this exact reaction a dozen times now. “You’ve got it so bad.”
“What?”
“You’re making moon eyes at my friend.”
“I don’t make moon eyes.”
“You absolutely make moon eyes,” Rooster said, grinning now. “How long has this been going on?”
“There’s nothing going on. We’re friends.”
Bob, who’d been quietly watching the exchange, spoke up. “Friends.” There was a knowing quality to his tone, subtle but unmistakable.
Jake shot him a look. “Yes, Bob. Friends. Some of us have those.”
“Some of us don’t turn into golden retrievers every time those friends walk into a room,” Payback added.
Coyote leaned back in his chair, arms crossed with an amused grin. “I’ve known you for years, Hangman. Never seen you like this.”
“Like what?” Jake asked defensively.
“Like you actually care,” Fanboy chimed in, exchanging a look with Coyote. “It’s weird. But also kind of nice?”
“I hate all of you.”
Phoenix was watching him with a calculating expression. “You’re serious. You actually like her.”
“Of course I like her. She’s—” He stopped, seeming to realize he was about to prove their point. “She’s nice.”
“She is nice,” Phoenix agreed. “She’s also one of my best friends, which means if you hurt her, I’ll make sure your callsign gets changed to Grounded.”
“Good. It should be.” Phoenix leaned forward, her expression serious. “I’m not kidding, Hangman. She’s not one of your usual conquests. She’s—”
“I know,” Jake said, and his voice had gone quiet. Serious. “Trust me, I know. Why do you think I haven’t—” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I’m trying to do this right.”
Phoenix blinked. In all the years she’d known Jacob Seresin, she’d never heard him sound like that. “Oh. You’re really serious.”
“Yeah.”
“Huh.” She studied him for a long moment. “Okay. But I’m still watching you.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less.”
But he was already up, making his way across the bar to where you stood.
You saw him coming and couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. Which was becoming a problem, actually—how much you didn’t mind when he showed up.
“Hey,” Jake said, that easy smile in place but something softer in his eyes. “Didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”
“It’s Friday. I’m here most Fridays with Nat.”
“Right. Yeah. Can I get you a drink?”
“I’m about to order one.”
“So that’s a yes?”
You rolled your eyes, but you were fighting a smile. “Sure, Hangman. You can buy me a drink.”
His whole face lit up like you’d just told him he’d won the lottery.
From across the bar, you caught Phoenix watching with a knowing smirk. You made a mental note to interrogate her later about whatever that look meant.
The thing was, Jake was… different than you’d expected.
Sure, he had the callsign and the reputation and the smile that could probably stop traffic. But when it was just the two of you—usually with Phoenix somewhere nearby, watching like a protective older sister—he wasn’t Hangman.
He was just Jake.
He asked questions—real ones, not the smooth-talking kind meant to impress. He wanted to know about your hometown, your family, why you’d joined the Navy, what you wanted to do after. He listened when you talked, actually listened, his green eyes focused on you like you were the only person in the world.
And he told you things too. About growing up in Texas, about learning to fly, about why he flew the way he did.
“I know what they say about me,” he said one night. You and Phoenix had stayed late at the Hard Deck, and she’d stepped away to take a call, leaving you and Jake alone on the deck overlooking the beach. “Hangman. Like I leave people hanging.”
“Do you?”
“In the air? Yeah. Sometimes. Because I know I’m good enough to get the job done alone.” He picked up a handful of sand that had blown onto the deck railing, let it run through his fingers. “But it’s not because I don’t care. It’s because… if I’m the one taking the risk, then no one else has to.”
You looked at him—really looked at him. At the way his jaw tightened, the way he wouldn’t quite meet your eyes.
“That’s lonely,” you said quietly.
He did look at you then. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
Something shifted between you in that moment. Something that made your chest feel tight and your breath catch and oh no, you thought.
Oh no.
Phoenix returned a moment later, taking one look at both of you and raising an eyebrow. But she didn’t say anything, just settled back into her chair and changed the subject.
Later, when Jake had left and it was just the two of you walking to your cars, Phoenix bumped your shoulder.
“So.”
“Don’t.”
“I’m just saying—”
“Nat.”
“He’s different with you. I’ve never seen him like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like he’s actually trying to be a real person instead of just Hangman.” She paused. “I know I gave you the warning about him. And I meant it—the old Hangman, the one who went through women like they didn’t matter? I’d tell you to run. But this…” She shook her head. “Maybe people can change.”
“You think I should give him a chance?”
“I think you already are. I’m just saying… I wouldn’t hate it. If you two figured things out.” She grinned. “But if he screws it up, I get to kick his ass in training. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“He’s got it bad,” Rooster said two months later, watching Jake watch you from across the rec room. You were completely focused on the tablet in your hands, reviewing flight logs while Phoenix looked over your shoulder and pointed something out. Oblivious.
“It’s kind of painful to witness,” Fanboy agreed, shaking his head. “How long has this been going on?”
After a short pause, Bob spoke. "Three months? Maybe four?"
“And he hasn’t even tried anything?”
Phoenix, who’d joined them, shook her head. “Nope. He just… follows her around like a puppy. Gets her coffee. Listens to her talk about radio frequencies like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever heard.”
“Who are you and what have you done with Hangman?” Rooster asked.
“Right?” Phoenix settled into a chair, still watching. “I gave him the shovel talk, like, six times. Told him if he hurt her, I’d never forgive him. You know what he said?”
“What?”
“He said he’d never forgive himself either.”
“Damn,” Payback said. “He’s really gone.”
Coyote whistled low. “Never thought I’d see the day. Hangman actually settling down for someone.”
“He’s going to crash and burn,” Rooster said. “She has no idea how he feels.”
“Oh, she knows,” Phoenix said. “She just doesn’t believe it.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s Hangman. And she’s…” Phoenix paused, trying to find the right words. “She’s careful. She doesn’t trust easy. And Jake’s reputation isn’t exactly helping.”
"I think it's nice. He's actually trying," Bob said, watching as Jake moved closer to you, saying something that made you laugh.
“He better be,” Phoenix said. “Because if he breaks her heart, reputation change or not, I’ll break him.”
You didn’t believe it.
Sure, Jake was… around. A lot. And yes, he’d stopped flirting with other women—Phoenix had confirmed that, even seemed pleased about it. And okay, maybe your heart did this stupid flutter thing every time you heard his voice over the radio or saw him waiting by the coffee cart in the morning.
But Jacob Seresin didn’t do relationships. Everyone knew that. This was just… friendly. He was being friendly.
The fact that his hand would linger when he handed you your coffee, or that he’d started texting you good morning every day, or that he’d shown up with soup when you’d mentioned feeling under the weather—that was just how he was.
Probably.
“You’re an idiot,” Phoenix said, not for the first time. You were in her apartment, having your weekly movie night, and she’d paused the film just to give you this look.
“I’m realistic.”
“He brought you soup!”
“He’s nice.”
“He’s not nice! He’s Hangman! He’s only nice to you!” Phoenix grabbed your shoulders. “Listen to me. I have known that man for years. Years. I have seen him go through women without learning their last names. I have watched him charm his way out of consequences and into beds without a second thought. And I have never—not once—seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.”
“Nat, really—”
“I’m serious. He’s different now. With you. And I know his reputation scares you, but people can change. He’s changing. For you.”
You wanted to believe her. God, you wanted to believe her.
But wanting something and trusting it were two very different things.
It was a Wednesday when everything changed.
You were in the tower, middle of a routine training exercise, when the alarm sounded.
“Dagger Two, Dagger Two, this is Tower. We have reports of a bird strike. What’s your status?”
Static.
Your heart stopped.
“Dagger Two, come in.”
More static, then: “Tower, Dagger Two. Confirm bird strike. Engine two is out. Engine one is… not looking great.”
His voice was steady, professional. But you could hear it underneath—the tension.
“Copy, Dagger Two. What’s your altitude?”
“Fifteen thousand and dropping. Trying to restart engine one.”
You pulled up his position, calculated distances, ran through every protocol you knew. Your supervisor was already moving, picking up the direct line to Base Operations.
“Ops, this is Tower. We have an in-flight emergency. Dagger Two, bird strike, dual engine failure. Pilot is attempting emergency landing at auxiliary field two-zero miles northeast. Launch crash crew and medical.”
Phoenix’s voice crackled through on the emergency channel. “Hangman, this is Phoenix. I’ve got Bob with me. We’re tracking you. Talk to us.”
“Phoenix, I’m losing altitude fast. Not gonna make it back to base.”
“Dagger Two, nearest divert is North Island. Can you make it?” you said, keeping your voice level through sheer force of will.
“Negative, Tower. I’m not going to make it to North Island.”
Your breath caught. “Dagger Two, there’s an auxiliary airfield twenty miles northeast of your position. Sending coordinates now.”
“Copy, I see it.”
Your supervisor was coordinating on the other line. “Crash crew is rolling. Ambulance and fire truck en route to auxiliary field. ETA twelve minutes.”
“Jake.” You never used his name over comms. Ever. “You can make it.”
A pause. Then, quieter: “Yeah. Yeah, I can make it.”
The next ten minutes were the longest of your life. You talked him through every step, keeping your voice steady even though your hands were shaking. Phoenix stayed on comms, her voice calm and professional, while Bob fed Jake technical readouts in that steady, measured way of his.
When he finally confirmed wheels down, safe, you had to sit down before your legs gave out.
Your supervisor touched your shoulder. “Good work. Crash crew is on scene. Medical is evaluating him now. They’ll transport him back to North Island by ground.”
You nodded, not trusting your voice.
Phoenix’s voice came through your headset. “Tower, Dagger Three. Bob and I are RTB. Ground crew has Hangman. They’re bringing him back by ambulance as a precaution.”
“Copy, Dagger Three,” you managed. “Safe flight.”
“Tower?” Phoenix’s voice was gentler now. “He’s okay. He’s safe. And knowing the squad, they’re probably already gathering at the medical building.”
Despite everything, you almost smiled. “Copy that.”
“You should probably be there too.”
You shouldn’t have left your post early. You definitely shouldn’t have been standing outside the base medical building with the entire Dagger Squad all waiting restlessly.
But there you were.
The ambulance pulled up, lights flashing but no siren, and the moment the rear doors opened, Jake climbed out on his own power, waving off the corpsman who tried to help him. He looked exhausted and rattled but whole.
His eyes scanned the group and found yours immediately.
Phoenix nudged Bob, who gave a small nod and stepped back without a word. “Come on. Let’s give them a minute.”
“The rest of you too,” Rooster said, herding the remaining Daggers toward the building entrance. “Move it.”
“But I want to see—” Coyote started.
“Move,” Phoenix said, her tone brooking no argument.
Then they were gone, and it was just you and Jake in the parking lot.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey yourself.”
“Thanks for—”
You closed the distance between you and wrapped your arms around him. He froze for half a second, then his arms came around you, tight and sure.
“You scared me,” you said into his shoulder.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“If you ever do that again—”
“I won’t.” His hand came up to the back of your head, cradling it gently. “I promise.”
You pulled back enough to look at him. His eyes were so green, so close, and he was looking at you like…
Oh.
Oh.
“I thought I wasn’t going to see you again,” he said quietly. “And all I could think was that I never told you—”
“Jake.”
“I’m in love with you.” The words came spilling out in a rush. “I know you probably don’t believe me, and I know I have a reputation, but I swear, I have never felt like this about anyone. You make me want to be better. You make me want to be the guy you see when you look at me. And if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay, I just needed you to know—”
You kissed him.
It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was soft and deliberate, your hand coming up to cup his jaw as you rose onto your toes. He made a sound—somewhere between relief and wonder—and pulled you closer, one hand sliding to the small of your back while the other cradled your face like you were something precious. The world narrowed to just this: the warmth of his mouth on yours, the way he held you like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment, the taste of salt from tears you hadn’t realized you’d shed.
When you finally pulled back, breathless, his forehead dropped to rest against yours. His eyes were still closed, and when he opened them, they were bright with something that looked like reverence.
“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “You terrify me.”
“I know.”
“I don’t do casual. I can’t— I’m not built for that.”
“Good. Because there’s nothing casual about the way I feel about you.” His thumb brushed across your cheekbone, gentle and reverent. “I’m all in. Have been for months. Everyone knows it. Phoenix has threatened me at least six times. I don’t care. I’d let her threaten me every day for the rest of my life if it meant I got to keep bringing you coffee and hearing you tell me to maintain radio discipline and just… being around you.”
You laughed, slightly watery. “You’re really in love with me?”
“So much it’s actually embarrassing. Have been since the first time I heard your voice over the radio. When I finally saw you at the Hard Deck and realized the voice I’d been falling for had a face to match…” He shook his head. “I was done for.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’m scared,” you said again. “But I— I think I might be in love with you too. Which is terrifying because I didn’t think that was possible four months ago.”
His smile was incandescent, and then he was kissing you again—softer this time, sweeter, like a promise. Like he had all the time in the world and wanted to spend every second of it right here with you.
From somewhere behind you, you heard Phoenix’s voice carry across the parking lot: “FINALLY!”
I can’t believe I wrote this over 4 years ago but it’s still one of my favourite fics I’ve written- Benedict girlies new and old, this one’s for you 🫶🏻
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