✦ Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Better Man Universe
✦Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Single!Mother
✦Word Count: 4.3K
✦Warnings: Fluff, so much FLUFF, Halloween vibes, and dagger squad family time, also married nat and roo... i just love them
✦A/n: Day 5 of my celebration. I love this so much! Dad Jake just does it for me, in so many ways
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You hear the high-pitched “momma,” noticeably upset, call come from Mathew's room. You’d sent him to try on the Halloween costume that had just arrived in the mail, he’d picked it out last month and had been, not so patiently waiting for its arrival.
It was a Friday and you had gotten off work early, making it to Maty’s school on base to grab him and head home. Jake had told you that they would be done early today, no later than 2. The new recruits had a briefing that would occupy Mav for the afternoon, meaning that the Dagger Squadron was getting done early for once. He would still have to get changed and shower on base but, given it was already 2:15, you knew that Jake would be home any time.
You were lucky that you lived so to base, the 10-minute drive making the daily trip convenient. You’d come home to the package lying on the doorstep, and Mathew had been out of the car as soon as you were parked. The six-year-old, almost seven-year-old, was clearly excited and the 3-week shipping had left room for an ever-growing pool of excitement.
Walking down the hall, your hand comes to rest along the door frame. Mathew’s small body silently sits on the ground and stares at the mini flight suit in his hands. You notice the little tremble of his lip, and you’re quick to kneel down next to him.
“Baby what’s wrong?”
His glassy eyes look up at you, on the verge of tears, and show clear disappointment. You’d had no idea what was going on, but knew that it must have been important. Mathew rarely cried over things and seeing him like this made your heartbreak.
Without replying, he lifts the fabric from his lap and pushes it out toward you. You give him a silent look of question, waiting for him to explain before trying to talk.
“It’s not like daddy’s.”
The slight tremble in his voice is a clear sign of more tears to come if you don’t fix it. You're quick to glance down at the suit, taking in the green color and patches on the front. You didn’t want to question him too much, knowing that Jake was a sensitive topic.
The morning that Jake told you that Mathew had called him daddy, it came as a slight surprise, given that he never even called Adam that. You’d been worried how Jake would react, and immediately asked him if he wanted you to have Maty stop calling him that. You knew that Jake was an amazing guy, but you couldn’t stop that slight bit of anxiety from working its way into your mind.
Jake was beyond happy and slightly offended when you offered to get Mathew to stop. He’d seen the apprehensiveness in your eyes still and reassured you that you and Mathew were it for him.
From then on, Jake had become ‘daddy.’ In every sense of the way, not only at home but in public. It was like Maty had been calling Jake daddy his whole life, not one member of your friends or family was fazed by the new term of endearment.
This led to the current predicament, Mathew was very much so in love with his daddy and became his mini-me. Which was why you’d immediately agreed, when Mathew asked to be a pilot like him for Halloween.
With the flight suit resting in your lap now, you lift to look for any tears or blemishes. Not finding anything wrong you set in back down, and glance back at Mathew. Who stares at you as if you had two heads, he’d looked completely bewildered that you couldn’t see the issue.
His little form moves toward your lap fast grasps the fabric in his little hands and flips it over to the front. You look to the fabric and back to Maty a few times, still not understanding. Even more exasperated with you, Mathew gives a loud sigh that makes you laugh. You were just happy that tears no longer lined his eyes, not minding the current sassy behavior.
He’d picked it up from Jake, no questions asked.
Clearly unhappy with your reaction thus far, his little hands grasp at the material and hold it up to your face. The random patches on the chest staring at you in the face.
“They aren’t like daddy’s momma.”
It clicks in your mind instantly then. Mathew hadn’t said he wanted to be a pilot for Halloween but told both you and Jake that he wanted to be his daddy.
Which clearly meant the generic, random patches were very out of place. You lower the fabric from your face and give Mathew a small smile.
“It’s the wrong patches bubba.”
The nod of his head confirms it, and you feel slightly bad. You knew that the naval patches weren’t ones that you could just buy. Jake had patches from his original unit, as well as his callsign patch, and neither of those was ones you could just buy.
Though you’re sure you could find someone to make them, the timing was completely off. Given that Halloween was in two weeks, you were sure there wouldn’t be nearly enough time.
The clear dilemma set in front of you had your mind working in overdrive, so much so that you hadn’t heard the closing of the front door. The knock of boots along the wood floor in the hallway pulls you from the daze.
Both you and Maty turn to see the man of the hour standing in the doorway, the smile on his face drops slightly as he sees the clearly upset look on Mathew’s face.
Jake moves into the room before Mathew can even say anything. Both him and Mathew working in tandem, as Jake picks him up to rest on his hip.
“Buddy, what’s wrong?”
The munchkin silently nuzzles into Jake's neck, clearly expecting you to tell Jake the catastrophic news. It might not have seemed like the biggest deal, but you knew to Mathew that it was. You rise up from the floor, and Jake’s hand reaches out to help you. The flight suit resting in your hands catches Jake's eyes and he gives you a questioning glance.
“It doesn’t have the right patches.” The sentence has Mathew pulling away from Jake's neck, speaking up before either of you can comment.
“It doesn’t have daddy’s patches.” His eyes go between you, to Jake, and back to the flight suit.
“I wanted to be Hangman.”
You shouldn’t have giggled, but it slips from your lips before you can stop it. The smile that breaks across Jake’s face is clearly pleased with your son’s demands.
“You wanna be Hangman?”
Mathew gives Jake a solid nod, though breaks out into laughter as Jake pokes and tickles him. Both of them laugh now, as Mathew's arms clutch around Jake's neck, wiggling around trying to escape the tickles.
“Alright, alright.” Jake pulls Mathew away slightly, though still holding him. “So, we need to find patches like mine, that right?”
The smile on Maty’s face is massive as he is once again nodding enthusiastically at Jake's words. Though as the ever realist, you’re quick to interject.
“Sweetheart those are custom patches, and it’s too late to find someone to make them.”
The smile on Mathew’s face falls once again, Jake’s glance moves from you to Mathew and back to you. The smirk on his face though stays in place, clearly having some idea that you had missed.
“We sure love momma, don’t we buddy?” The question has you watching Jake, waiting for how he is going to follow up on the comment. “But sometimes, daddy just has to show up and fix things.” The both of them head out the bedroom door and into the master room.
You follow behind with questioning eyes, completely unaware of what Jake has up his sleeve.
He plops Mathew down onto the duvet, bouncing him slightly, and moves over to you. The signature smirk proudly rested on his face.
“I’m gonna fix all the problems, but I need a kiss first.”
You shake your head at his antics, though gladly welcome his lips against your own. It's short and sweet, you can’t help the way it makes you smile. With a last kiss to the tip of your nose, Jake pushes you down to the bed to sit with Maty.
“Alright, you and momma sit right there.”
The both of you hum at him, watching as Jake goes over to your closet and begins riffling through the clothes. The slight tapping of his foot and toon that he’s humming would have you making fun of him if you didn’t think that he looked so cute.
Though you did. The flight suit tied around his hips is a clear indication that he hadn’t showered on base. You’ll have to ask him why later, though right now you are defiantly appreciating the view of the stretched-out white cotton sticking to his torso. The heat of the California weather is clearly terrible today, given that the shirt is almost translucent in spots.
Mid-stare you hear Jake let out a trumpet ‘ah,’ as he pulls out a nearly identical flight suit to the one he’s wearing. Though the one resting on the hanger is clearly smaller, it is almost an exact replicate all the way down to the patches across the chest.
“This, little man, is my old flight suit from when I first started flying.” Jake's gaze moves from the suit and back to the both of you on the bed, giving you a soft smile. Mathew had crawled up into your lap and hadn’t taken his eyes off the flight suit since Jake pulled it out.
“and it’s got all of the patches you need.”
Mathew's head cocks to the side slightly, eyes still trained on the suit.
“It’s too big.”
A chuckle bubbles from Jake's chest, “For now, but the patches come off this one still.” He pulls off the ‘Hangman’ patch holding it out the Maty.
“See and momma can fix them up on the little suit for now. Then when you get bigger... well, you might need this one.”
The pause doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Your heart aching with the amount of love you hold for Jake, and how he was the perfect father for your baby. Mathew is fast to scrabble off your lap, heading for Jake and standing next to the flight suit.
“So, I can wear it when I’m big, like you?”
The slight marvel in Mathew’s eyes makes your heart swell and seeing that same level of love and marvel in Jake’s eyes almost makes you cry.
“If you want.”
“I’ll be the best pilot in the navy, just like my daddy.”
Jake is quick to scope Mathew back up into his arms, hugging him tightly to his body.
“Yeah, buddy.”
The answer is barely audible, as it’s muffled against Mathew’s shirt. The both of them cling to each other. Though you catch Jake’s eyes, and the tears lining his eyes are on verge of falling as he gives you a soft smile.
The smile you reciprocate isn’t nearly enough, wanting to have both of your boys in your arms. Jake clearly has the same thought, as his hand reaches out to you. Pulling you up and into the hug, the three of you clutch onto each other.
Your lips gently brush against Jakes, as he holds Mathew between your bodies. Your foreheads come to rest against one another, and your palm rests on his cheek, whipping away a stray tear. Before Jake is turning into your palm and gives it a gentle kiss.
His eyes lock with you once again, with so much light and love in them.
“Thank you.”
You knew what he meant.
Thank you for this; a family unit, a place to call home, to love unconditionally.
You mean it just as much as you mutter it back against his lips, “Thank you.”
For a future
…
Though a little late, you’d finally gotten the Halloween decorations up, just after Maty’s flight suit came in the mail. Bright orange pumpkins and fake spiderwebs littered the house, courtesy of Jake and Mathew. The pair had set out on turning your whole house into your very own Halloween town, it had started with Jake going to the grocery store and seeing spooky window stickers. The single item soon became two and then three, and now your whole house was filled. You hadn’t expected Jake to be the type of person to want to decorate, carve pumpkins, and go trick-or-treating, but here you were. A happy little family that did everything. Jake had even started skipping Friday nights at the Hard Deck every now and then. Proclaiming that since the next 3 months were continuous holidays, that Friday nights were now dedicated to watching holiday movies together.
The celebration of holidays had even transferred into the Dagger Squad participating in things, that they most likely hadn’t done since childhood. You had all just gone out and picked pumpkins together and were set to carve them at your house tonight.
Pumpkin picking had been fun and seeing each of the guys turn into children again was quite entertaining. Not only had the whole squadron came, but Robert had also brought his wife Lacey. She was a teacher for third grade at Mathew’s new school on base. You had met her in passing, but never long enough to hold an actual conversation.
You and Natasha, both welcomed her with open arms and instantly fell in love with her. Both you and Natasha gave Robert a hard time for keeping her hidden away for so long. To which he replied it wasn’t his fault and that she had an insanely busy schedule, before placing a sweet kiss on her lips.
Everyone had found their own pumpkins, though it seemed to take the guys even longer than Maty. They decided on competing to see who could find the biggest one, Bradley won in the end. Jake only let him win because Mathew had found a pumpkin already, claiming that it was special. The little boy had proclaimed that he and his daddy needed matching pumpkins, which was more than adorable, but given that they were quite a bit smaller, Jake had decided that you needed a massive pumpkin. Leading to you having the second biggest one, just after Bradley.
…
Bradley had taken over the stereo, and the obnoxious melody of This is Halloween from The Nightmare Before Christmas played over the speakers at max volume. Rounding the corner to the kitchen, a laugh falls from your lips. Spread out across the kitchen floor was the whole Dagger Squad; Mathew settled in Jake's lap, Natasha and Bradley poking fun at each other’s craving job, Lacey sat in front of Robert, continually slapping his hand away as he tried to help her cut the pumpkin open, and Javy, Reuben, and Mickey sat off in their own circle having a carving competition. Though to you, it looked like, who could sabotage who the fastest.
You had never realized how much these moments would mean to you until you finally had it right in front of you. You’d left the group briefly to change into one of Jake’s hoodies, the breeze sweeping in from the back door cooling you considerably. You’d been the only one complaining of the cold though, as every single other person in your house sat in short-sleeved shirts and said they were still overheating. Which led to the wide-open door.
“Your missing carving time momma.” The high-pitched yell from Maty is more than enough motivation to get you climbing through the group of individuals.
“Yeah momma, you need to sit your little butt over here and get to work.”
You roll your eyes at Jake; the cheeky pilot sends you a wink as you settle on the floor next to him.
“We both know, that you’re gonna be carving it; in an unsaid competition with Bradley.”
“Well yes, but I still want your help, sweets. I need your creative expertise.”
You roll your eyes at the man, used to him constantly supplying you with compliments. You glance over to Maty’s pumpkin and see that him and Jake have carved out the Buzz Lightyear logo. You place a quick kiss on your son’s head, only to be met with Jake’s own lips puckered up at you when you pull away. You laugh slightly at the man, though cave and give him his own kiss as well.
A resounding chorus of ‘ewwwws’ sounded through the kitchen, each of the guys giving the pair of you, comical looks of disgust. Bradley makes a show of full-on fake gaging, that has you sticking your tongue out at him in an equally childish way.
“You’re just jealous.”
“How could I be jealous when I’ve got this pretty little thing right here.” The hand Bradley tries to wrap around Natasha is quickly batted away, as he knocks over her pumpkin.
Her gaze cuts to him quickly, a harsh glare focused on the hand that just hit her Michel Meyers masterpiece.
“Don’t touch my pumpkin again, or you can sleep on the couch.”
A harsh laugh leaves both you and Jake, as Bradley slightly pouts at Natasha.
…
The group finishes out the night by midnight, though Jake had put Mathew to bed just after dinner at nine. The five-year-old was less than pleased when he had to leave his aunts and uncles, though he had gone willingly when you told him that they would be coming trick-or-treating with you tomorrow. Slowly the couples file out of your house, Robert and Lacey the first ones to leave given that they actually had to drive back to their house. Bradley and Natasha were the next to head out, only having to walk home, as their house was only a few streets over from yours. Coyote had already settled and fell asleep on the couch at around eleven, you had covered him up with a blanket and made sure his phone was plugged into the extra charger that he left at your house.
He regularly stayed over and by now the thirty-one-year-old had become like another child for you to care for. Mickey and Reuben are the last to leave, they’d taken to “personalizing” Coyotes pumpkin after he had fallen asleep and had just finished up with their design.
You set the last of the pumpkins outside on the doorstep, your front door surrounded by ten carved pumpkins now. A laugh slips from your lips, clearly sleep-deprived, but also at the different faces and designs that mare the pumpkins.
“Alright darlin’, I think it’s time we get you to bed.”
You lean back into the arms wrapped around your waist, his hands slipping beneath the hoodie to crease your hips. Jake places soft kisses along your neck, your head falling back to rest on his shoulder, as he gently bites the junction between your neck and collarbone, a hum leaves your lips at the attention.
“You ready for all the moms to fawn over you tomorrow night?” The slight teasing in your voice has Jake releasing a harsh huff against your shoulder.
“You’re the only momma that matters sweet. My hot momma.” His hand tightens slightly at your hips, and you can’t stop the way your hips automatically press back into his hard length, resting perfectly against your ass.
“I’m not fucking you with Coyote asleep on our couch, mister.” The tone in your voice is clearly saying something else, as you work to hold back the moan.
“Come on baby, you just have to stay quiet this time.” The sentence is followed by another nip at your neck before he runs his tongue over the mark to soothe it.
“I’m not having him burst into our room again, thinking that I’m hurt, Jacob.”
The laugh Jake releases shakes your own chest and starts you laughing as well. You turn in his hold, his green eyes shining with a look of delight and mischief.
“I just fuck you too good, is that it baby? Can’t stay quiet.”
Your face burns at the statement, and the harsh slap you lay across his chest makes him laugh even more. Grasping even tighter on to you when you try and slip from his grip. Your gaze meets one another, as Jake smirks at you, you can’t stop the wide smile from spreading across your own face.
“Bed now.” You pat at Jake's chest, before heading down the hallway to your room. Glancing back at the last minute to stare at him. “And not for sex.”
You step into your room, as a loud laugh bounces off the walls of the quiet house.
…
“Alright baby.” You fix the collar to Mathew’s flight suit, smoothing down the front of the dark green outfit.
“Do I look like daddy?”
Your hand runs over the sewn-on Hangman name patch, eyes tracing from Mathew's slicked-back hair all the way down to the little black boots that match Jakes. Your eyes tear up slightly, in slight wonder at how your baby had grown up so fast.
“Yeah bubba, you look just like daddy.”
You grab the set of aviator glasses from the counter and place them upon Maty’s small face.
“There you go, now you could pass for his twin.”
Both of your gazes turn, as you hear Jake's boots knock across the hardwood floor coming down the hall. Your eyes trace Jake's form just as they traced Mathews, and you quietly wonder, how in the world Jake wasn't actually Mathew's real dad. They looked so much alike it was unbelievable other than Mathew’s hair, which matched your own, the two of them could have fooled anyone.
Jake releases a sharp whistle, that echoes through the halls. “Momma, I do believe I may be out of a job.” His hands are quick to reach out and grasp Mathew, placing the boy on his hip. “You sure you didn't wanna dress up like me, just so you could take my job?” As he says it, a plethora of tickles is placed over Mathew’s tummy, which causes the boy to giggle uncontrollably.
“Daddddyyyyy.”
Though the tickling had subsided, the father-son duo is not done yet. The spin of Mathew's body in Jake's arms has you laughing, the five-year-old now hanging upside down trying to clutch onto his father's matching flight suit.
“All right you two, calm down. I need you both in one piece if we want to go trick-or-treating.”
Jake spins Matthew back around, popping him down on the floor gently. The both of them standing at attention waiting for your orders, you can't help but laugh at how alike they act.
“Alright, daddy's in charge of finding the Halloween pails. Maty, you turn all of the lights off, and mommy –”
“Mommy needs a costume…”
The way in which your 5-year-old states it has you looking down at the clothes you're currently wearing, eyes moving from your form and back to Jake and Mathew. They both stand there staring at you, silently waiting for your answer as to why you don't have a costume on.
“Bubba, I was so busy getting your and daddy's costumes ready, and I just forgot.” You try and give the munchkin a reassuring smile, but you can clearly see how unhappy he is with the fact that you won't be dressing up as a family.
“Sweet pea mommy doesn't –”
Though before you can finish the sentence, Jake is off to your bedroom, once again, on a clear mission. Both you and Maty follow behind him, curious as to what he's gonna pull out of your closet now.
The now familiar sound of Jake saying ‘ah’ once again rings through your room, as Jake pulls out a leather bomber jacket. The same patches adorn the chest and sleeves of the bomber, as those that adorn Jake and Mathew’s flight suits.
“Once again daddy is saving the day.” The cheeky tone in his voice has you shaking your head at Jake, as a cheer reigns out from your son, who's now bouncing on your bed in clear excitement.
“You're just full of surprises aren't you.”
“You love it.”
You step forward to take the jacket from Jake, though before you can grab it, he's wrapping it around your shoulders. Holding it for you to slip your arms in the sleeves and tugging it tight around your chest.
“Nope, I don’t.”
“Sweets, don't lie baby.”
So close that you're almost forehead to forehead, his breath creases your lips with each word. That damn smirk, matched with those green eyes and how they glisten, makes you weak in the knees.
“Maybe.”
Though before he can make a smartass remark, you press your lips against his. Slotting perfectly against one another, one arm slips around his neck as Jake goes to pull you in closer by the waist. You lick teasingly at the seam in his lips, however, pull away before he can go take it any farther, releasing a sharp laugh at the look of defeat that settles on Jake's face. You grab Mathew sitting him on your hip, glancing at Jake with a final look over your shoulder, an award-winning smile creasing your lips, then head out the door.
Well aware that Jake is in tow behind you, “I'm the one with the keys.”
“Then hurry up daddy.” The sentence leaves both yours and Mathew's lips at the same time.
A final thought drifts through Jake's brain as he locks the front door; tonight, all three of you had the last name Seresin printed across your chest, a fact that needed to be made permanent.
♤ Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Blue Jeans Masterlist
♤ Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Y/n "Tilly" Tillerson
♤ Word Count: 6.3K
♤ Warnings: Smut 18+, family fighting, reader gets hit (not by Rhett), angst, fluff
♤ A/n: I haven't written smut in years, so let me know. Also, I'm 30 minutes late, but this week has been a lot. Also, you are responsible for your own content consumption. This is an 18+ fic, please respect that.
♤ Library | Main Masterlist
The shatter of glass pulls you from your thoughts, a reminder of where you were. Thrown once again into the fire. Tugging your jeans the rest of the way up, you button the brass button. The tank top you’re wearing sticks to you like a second skin, in the hot Wyoming weather.
Yanking it off you grab an old Coors shirt, slipping it over you frame, before reaching down to tug on your boots. Mud flicks off on to the carpet, making you roll your eyes, you’d have to clean it before your mother saw.
You hadn’t been home in almost four years, leaving Wabang in the dust when you got accepted to Montana State to pursue a degree in business.
Montana had been your number one choice in schools for two reasons; it was out of state away from family, and it was still close enough that Rhett could drive down. It’d been at least 8 months since you’d last seen him, to say you were wound tight was an understatement.
The harsh reality of your father getting sick and you having to come home was thrown into your face, not even a week ago. Your mother made it quite clear, that whether you wanted to or not, you would be coming home with her.
Growing up as the youngest Tillerson, and a girl at that, hadn’t been an easy feat. The constant reminder that you would never fully be in control of your life, not while being a part of this family at least.
Luke and Billy were fine, as fine as they could be. Luke was so far up your mother’s ass, that you were surprised he could even function when she wasn’t around. While Billy was completely brainwashed by your father.
Though you would have happily dealt with them over your father and Trevor. Those two had tempers and matched against your own; the state of your life had been on fire for as long as you could remember.
The three of your tempers flaring at every incident, ended in more fist fights than you could remember, and the list of broken items was never ending. Fuel was just added to the fire when your mom was home, having all four of you in the same room always ended with Sheriff Joy, coming out on calls of domestic disturbances.
A quick look in the mirror, you double-check your makeup and hair and decide that you're more than hot enough to make a surprise appearance at the Handsome Gambler. Another crash has you looking back at your door, silently wondering what the hell was wrong now. Pulling open your bedroom door, you can hear the yelling voices of Luke and Trevor. Forgoing your hat for the night, you make your way to the den.
There was only one hat that you be wearing tonight, come hell or high water it would be yours.
Both voices raise, nearly scream, when suddenly a third voice cuts through causing you to pause your descent down the stairs.
“What she wants doesn’t matter, damn it.” A rough cough rises from your father’s chest, “She doesn’t even know what the hell’s going on, if you two idiots could keep your voice down.”
You mind races, trying to think of anything they could be talking about. Though you come up blank, having been gone you hadn’t worried about your father and brothers.
What in the hell could be so important that they needed to keep it from you? Staying on the stairs, out of sight you wait for them to go on.
“She’s gonna find out, I’m surprised Rhett hasn’t already told her. Abbott doesn’t know how to keep his fucking mouth shut.” You’d known that was Luke, his voice not rough like your fathers and Trevor’s.
Though you couldn’t figure out why in the world they were talking about you and Rhett. It had been years since they’d seen the two of you together and there was no way they knew the two of you were still a thing.
The two of you grew up together, best friends since you were children. You knew every part of each other, sharing your deepest secrets, and eventually an unbreakable love. Puberty had hit the both of you like a fright train, leading to you two fucking in every pasture between his and your house. Fucking; eventually turned into more, friends falling in love hard and fast.
You’d officially been together three years when you graduated, though your story tale came to a sudden halt when you received your acceptance letter. With you moving and Rhett actively pursuing bull riding, the both of you had decided to end your relationship.
The both of you left it on good terms, and Rhett still came up to Bozeman, the six-hour drive nothing compared to trips he made on the circuit. You hadn’t told Rhett that you were coming home, the spur of the moment decision made by your mother prevented it, but you knew he’d be out tonight.
No longer giving a shit if they saw you, you make your way down the stairs. Their talking cutting off completely when you came into view, your brothers and father staring holes into your head as you push through the den into the kitchen.
“Don’t stop talking on my account.” The snap in your voice is evident.
The four sets of eyes following your every move, still not talking, as you dig around in the key jar.
“What are you doing?” It’s Trevor that speaks up first, his tone already pissy.
“What’s it look like?” You throw him a look over your shoulder, your gaze condensing in every way. His gaze back is still questioning, and you wonder if he truly is an idiot.
“I’m getting the fucking keys Trevor.”
A smile graces your face as you find the set to your father’s new pickup, the one he hadn’t been able to drive since he’d gotten sick. You raise your hand in triumph showing them, and silently waiting for the pushback.
“Where do you think that you're going?” This time it’s Luke that questions you, his tone less sharp not wanting to set off your temper.
Luke had learned over the years what buttons not to push, while Trevor knew exactly which one to push. It was like he thrived off the idea of making you mad, to see just how much you’d blow up.
“I’m not going to just sit around; I don’t really feel like listening to ya’ll fight. Mom might have forced me back, but she didn’t say I had to stay on the ranch.” Your eyebrow slightly raises “I’m going for a drink.”
Before you can turn to leave, a harsh, forced laugh falls from Trevor’s lips.
“When did you turn into such a fucking bitch? Saying that mom forced you here, like this ranch isn’t the thing that’s given you everything.”
Your jaw ached from how tightly you’d clenched it, all of them just staring at you. No words to defend you, you hadn’t expected it, but it would have been a nice surprise.
Trevor might have been right about your childhood. Getting everything you wanted, it wasn’t like you asked for it, it was just there. The exact way it was for each of your brothers, the only difference is that you left, and when you left so did daddy’s money.
Sure, you could have asked, begged, but you didn’t need it. You maintained a job with a company up in Bozeman, that paid you more than enough to live and the thought to being debited to this place, was enough for you to live on a smaller means.
“Unlike you Trevor, I no longer live off Daddy’s money. Though since I’m being forced to stay here, I will be taking liberties. The first on being, using the damn pickup.” The rattle you made with the keys, finally setting him off.
You’d said the wrong thing before, but the fire in Trevor’s eyes hadn’t been one you’d personally seen. Before you can make a move for the door, he was on you, the whip of your head and crack of the back of his hand on your face echoing through the kitchen.
Silent rage, you couldn’t feel the pain. The heaving of your chest should have been notion enough that you were pissed. It’s not till you feel the blood running down your lip, that you realize he’d done damage.
Sure, Trevor and your father had hurt you before, but it had been a long time since they had struck you on the face. You raise your hand up, still clutching the keys and brush your fingers over you lip. The blood smears as you do, feeling an evident spilt and swelling.
No one moves, Trevor stands just in front of you, while the other three don’t do so much as comment.
The harsh laugh that falls from your lips, should scare them. You never wanted to see a pissed off woman laugh, that was common sense, but to see a pissed off Tillerson woman laughing.
They should have been running.
Acting on pure instinct your fist reals back, flying at Trevor before anyone can react. The resounding crack of his nose brings you joy, his figure doubling over sightly. Your fist already rising back, ready to maim him. You’d seen bright red and you didn’t want to stop, not when he was the one doubled over in pain.
It’s only the feeling of Luke wrapping his arms around your waist, and dragging you back from Trevor that makes you stop.
“Calm down, damn it.” It’s your father that yells, the four of your gazes snapping directly to him.
Your lips curl back in disgust, of course it wasn’t an issue if you were the one bleeding. Oh, but if anyone touches poor Trevor, the fucking world was ending.
You scoff, shaking Luke off and double check that you still have your keys. Grabbing your purse, that had fallen, you move to leave, leaning into Trevor as he tries to stop the bleeding.
Your voice as sharp as a knife, “I’m not little anymore Trev. You touch me again, and I’ll kill you.”
Pushing past him ,you brush off your shirt noticing that drops of blood had collected on it. Cursing you brother once again, you head out the door, only offering Billy a goodbye.
Walking to the truck, you can’t stop the smirk that rises on your lips. You were ready to get absolutely hammered and fall into Rhett’s bed in a tangle of limbs.
Not caring that it’s your father’s truck, or that it was in fact brand new, you peel out the drive gravel flying. Your fingers beat along the steering wheel, music blasting and windows down.
Flicking down the visor you silently thank your father, you didn’t smoke normally, but occasionally you’d light one up. Flipping open the box of Marlboro’s, you slip one between your lips. Grabbing the lighter in the cup holder, the sweet relief the nicotine gives you instantly calms your jittery limbs.
The cigarette only just brushes against the left side of your bottom lip and has you wincing, the pain finally setting in. You’d need a stiff drink to take that edge off, the glowing neon sign of the Handsome Gambler a welcomed sight.
You’d checked your lip in the mirror, grimacing slightly at the swelling and taking a wet napkin to your chin, removing the dried blood. The music can be heard before you even make it to the door, upon opening it, it increases ten-folds. Rumbling through your body and instantly soothing you. The red glowing neon of the bar was a tad obnoxious but wasn’t unbearable.
The click of your boots draw eyes to you instantly, though the only set you're looking for sits at the end of the bar. Leaning over a glass of whiskey, unfazed by his surroundings.
You don’t take time to acknowledged anyone else, your sights set and your feet carrying you without another thought in the world.
He doesn’t notice you leaning on the bar next to him, surely overthinking his last ride, and it isn’t until you grab the hat off his head that you get his attention. You’re sure that bar goes silent as the hat settles on your head, a familiar piece; one you’ve worn on many occasions.
Your hand is reaching for his whiskey before he can even comprehend that it’s you. Shooting the drink back, you rest the glass once again between his fingers and let your eyes finally meet his.
Wonder and questioning cross his face. His eyes going to your lip and your positive you see a flash of rage, before his eyes move to the hat on your head and a smug smirk settles on his lips.
“You know there’s a certain rule about stealing a cowboys hat Tilly?”
His nickname for you falling from his lip, nearly has you melting into a puddle on the ground, but you hold strong.
A hum and a nod of your head is the only recognition you given him, before moving to him. His legs opening for you like muscle memory, and your arms lacing around his neck. Your mouth resting just inches from his ear, your breath hot against him.
“And I fully intend on cashing in on those rules tonight, Abbott.”
The way his grip tightens on your waist has your toes curling in anticipation, the burning in your core igniting now that Rhett’s within your hold. Your eyes meet his and your breath catches, the blue of his eyes no longer visible. His pupils blown, watching your every move, and full of want.
It’s his hand that comes up and knocks the brim of his hat up, his eyes taking in the way your lips part as tiny soft pants fall from them.
Every time, it was like this. Like no time had passed since the last time your trembling form was under him. The way that your body became putty in his hands would have been annoying, if you didn’t like it so damn much.
No, those hands and his mouth were a God sent you were sure, or maybe hell sent. Given the way they could have you trembling like a leaf and Rhett’s name falling from your lips like a prayer.
Your lip slips between your teeth, gently biting it, not caring any longer about the cut. Your stare is unwavering, neither of you paying mind to the bar surrounding you and you can’t deny the way your body craves him.
The whiskey you shot earlier didn’t come close to warming you up like he did, as his hands leave a trail of flames in their wake gently rub up your sides.
“You that needy, you have to come down here to me? Nobody work you over like me, hmm Tilly.”
You know he’ll question you later, want to know the full story. But it’s the fact that he knows just what you need to hear, the need to forget all the shit, that has you wanting to crawl up into his lap.
“No baby, I came cause I heard you needed me.”
Your hands slip into the hair at the base of his neck, lightly scratching and he can’t hide the shiver that slips up the base of his spine.
“Heard none of the bunnies could take you like I can. They're just too breakable for you.”
The tension has the both of you leaning in closer to each other, waiting for the other one to beg. You can feel Rhett’s breath hot against your lips, just barley touching, though not nearly like how you’re craving him. The need to have him flush against you, making your legs shake as tears run down your face.
Rhett caves just barely, his tongue slipping out and licking at your bottom lip. Swiping over the cut, a stinging jolt of pain and need courses through your veins. The moan that erupts from your chest, makes him smirk and pull you closer to him. Your thigh barley nudging the front of his pants, his cock hard and pulsing against the thick denim.
Glancing down, the imprint against his jeans has your core clenching and a tiny whine coming from your throat. A chuckle falls his lips, his hand coming to rest on your cheek, brushing your hair behind your ear.
“You that needy, girl?”
Your head is nodding before you can even think to stop it. The need to be owned by Rhett, out-weighting your usually independent nature. He knew it, he always did. It was one of his favorite things about you; how you were a spitfire to anyone else, but when he pushed just right, you’d be on your knees.
The closeness in proximity to each other, leaves no room for outside interference.
You hadn’t seen her coming back from the bathroom, in her barley there shorts, and trashy boots. Though the whiny voice stating Rhett’s name pulls your gaze to the girl standing next to you.
Rhett’s vision never leaves your face, waiting to see how you’d react. He always loved to see you get territorial, and had a habit of forgetting to tell you about other girls hitting on him at the bar.
Your eyes rack up her form, your head tilling to the side as you take in her appearance. Looking back the Rhett, you see him shrug his shoulders, silently telling you to handle it.
Turning to her, the smile dropping from your face, “He’s got his hands full bunny.”
The hands once on your waist, slip down to grab your ass. Giving it a harsh squeeze, that has your legs clenching.
“I already claimed him for the night.” Her tone bitter, acting like she has made some miraculous point.
Your jaw ticks at her stupidity and the fact that she thinks that she has some claim over him.
The only person that had a claim over Rhett Abbott was you, and it always would be you.
Turning to full face her, Rhett’s hands settling on your hips, hands sneaking under your shirt.
“No bunny, you didn’t.” The tone of your voice is sharp and you’re sure the once loud bar has gone silent.
“For one, he’s a person, not an object, and “claims” can’t be made over him.” You take a step closer to her, your gaze unwavering. “Though if anyone has a claim over him, it’s me and this damn hat proves it.”
The flick of your finger against the hat, has her eyes rising to the hat resting on your head. Her eyes find yours again, and you can see the gears trying to turn in her head. Just as her mouth opens to say something; you’re quick to shut her up.
“I think you’d better leave bunny, unless you wanna find out just how I got the split lip.”
Her eyes flicker to your lip then back to your eyes, fire burning behind your gaze, and you watch as she realizes how serious you are. Her face falling and a slight fear crosses her eyes before she’s turning and walking away.
You turn back around to Rhett, a smug smirk resting on his lip. A new hunger burns in his eyes as he watches you and his hands slide back down to grab your ass.
“You put a claim on me girl?”
“I’ve had a claim on you, since that first time you fucked me behind the church.”
You can see the memory flashing through his mind, and before you realize it, he’s up and pulling you out of the bar to his pickup.
Your back hits the passenger door of his pick, your gazes watching one another. It’s you that sneaks up a hand around his neck, pulling his lips to yours. Not caring that you were the one to break this time, all you knew was that you needed Rhett like you needed air to breathe.
The clash of your lips against one another, stings slightly against your split lip, but the way Rhett’s leg slots between your knees has you forgetting.
It’s when Rhett nips at your bottom lip that has you cursing. Rhett’s fast to pull back, his eyes dropping to your lip and that anger from earlier reappears.
“Who the fuck did it?” the question leaves no room for you to evade it. Trapped within his arms and his hard gaze.
“Trevor.” His name taste like acid on your tongue and your sure Rhett doesn’t miss the way your grimace.
The hands at your hip tighten, surely causing bruises, and your hands drop to rub Rhett’s shoulders. A silent gesture from you, telling him that you’re okay.
“I’ll fucking kill him.” And the heat between you is forgotten by him. The only thing incasing him now, was his anger aimed directly at your brother.
Rhett feels the way his breath picks up, he knew that your family was a bunch of assholes and that you all fought religiously. Hell, he’d been there for a few of them when you were both still in high school.
But to hear that Trevor had physically put his hands on you, set off something entirely new within him.
He doesn’t hear you; a ringing has started in his ears, and he can’t stop the replaying imagery in his mind of Trevor hitting you. He’s making his way around the pick-up and climbing into the driver’s seat.
“Tilly get in.” His voice is harsh and has you climbing in quickly.
Before you know it, he’s pulling from the parking spot and heading back towards both of your homes.
“Rhett what are you thinking?” though you don’t receive an answer, the sound of gravel underneath the tire’s echoes through the cab.
You can see the steam rolling off him and though you should be scared, you know that Rhett would never hurt you. The split in the road ahead is looming, one to the Abbott Ranch and the other to your families.
Looking over to Rhett you can see his hands shaking in rage. Reaching over you take one of his hands from the steering wheel and hold it against your lips. Giving his knuckles repeated kisses, as his gaze settles on your face.
“Pull over baby.” Your voice is soft and not demanding, though you know that Rhett will listen to your gentle request.
The truck stops in the middle of the road, and you can see a storm rising up against the mountains. Much like the one that is clearly racking through Rhett’s mind, he’s eyes look back to your eyes, watching the way you continually kiss his knuckles.
A shuttered breath leaves his lips, and his head is bowing down into his chest. His voice quiet, but you still hear him.
“He hit you.” The shake and pain in his voice is clear as day. “He put his fucking hands on you, and they did nothing.”
His face snaps to you, as you go to correct him, words failing you. His gaze proves that he already knows the truth.
“Okay, so they did nothing. What’s new?” The laugh that leaves you is more strained than you planned, “I got a good hit in though, think I broke his nose.”
Rhett watches you as you tell him, a chuckle leaves his lips at your comment. The hand you’d been kissing, raising to brush against your cheek.
“My Girl.”
Such wonder and love in his tone, his eyes showing nothing but pride in you. The feeling rattles you to your core. You and Rhett had broken things off, but that didn’t mean you stopped loving him.
The look he’s giving you, makes it seem like he still loved you too. You’re up and climbing across the truck before you can seconded guess the decision.
Climbing over into his lap, needing to be next to him, to feel him and know that he was with you.
He welcomes you, grabbing your hips to settle your thighs on either side of his lap. One hand coming to rest on your cheek, grazing the split in your lip once again.
“He deserves so much more than just a fucking broken nose.” You nuzzle into his palm, placing kisses into it.
“And you would have killed him without a seconded thought?” Your laugh is silenced, as Rhett straightens your face to look at him.
“I’d burn the fucking world to the ground for you Tilly.” The way he says it, causes your core to clench.
A commandment of love, without actually saying the words.
You know that he would, but hearing the rasp and seriousness in his voice, made you feel like you were about to combust.
Your lips surge forward, kissing him in the only way you know how to express your feelings. You needed him and you didn’t care if you were in the middle of a public road. You needed him to quench the burning in your core. To make you scream his name, to feel his length hit that spongy little spot that only he reached.
Your need for him, drowning out the pain in your lip.
Your teeth clashed against one another, Rhett’s hand rising up to knock the hat off your head. His hand settling at the back of your hair, pulling you down harder into him. His hip bucking slightly as you grind down against his hard length, pressing into you through the two layers of denim.
The harsh tug on your hair has your head dropping back and an airy moan falling from your lips. Rhett’s lips trail down your neck, wet open mouth kisses left in his wake.
You’d missed this, the way that only he knew your body.
And just like every time, his lips settle over the junction of your neck and collarbone, teasing and biting the spot.
Your hips push down harder, your core burning with need, his lips never leave your neck. Marking you as his own. No one would question if you were together by the end of the night, he was gonna make sure of it.
It’s the nip of his teeth, that has you let out a loud moan, and your hips moving on their own accord. His hands falling to your ass, pushing, and pulling you.
“Atta girl, let me hear you.”
A whine breaks through your lips at the praise, keening in delight. The cab of the truck getting entirely too hot, and Rhett’s hands find the bottom of your shirt tugging it over your head.
Your lips finding each other again, tastes of whiskey and mint reach your lips, your tongue teasing his bottom lip.
His hands grasping and running over your unclothed top, hands slipping behind you and flicking the clasp of your bra.
Your eyes meet each other, time slowing. Your hands hold your bra in place, Rhett’s hands raising to trace your arms. His fingers slipping into the straps, to tug them down softy. His mouth descending to your collarbone, kissing over the tops of your breast.
Your back arches, your hips lifting slightly, chasing his tongue. He laughs at you softy, before striping your bra completely from your body.
A low groan leaves his lips, watching your chest rise and fall with each breath.
“Fuckin’ perfect.” His hand rising to cup one breast, thumb grazing your nipple. A shiver consumes your body, as your nipple erects in the cool air. “Such a pretty girl for me.”
He smirks at you, a teasing look that has you whining and your hands pulling his head down.
“So fuckin’ needy.”
The only reply falling from your lips is a moan, as his lips wrap around the bud. His other hand coming up to tug on the other. Your hands raking through his hair, tugging him forward, the tug of his teeth on you makes your head drop back. Your eyes falling shut, enjoying the way Rhett encompasses you.
He works your body over, still full clothed in front of you, and yet has you begging for release.
Quiet pleas fall from your lips, your need consuming every inch of your body.
“Please. Need it, Rhett. Need you.”
His hips buck up into you, and a high-pitched whine leaves you. Your hands moving to paw at his shirt, the need to feel him, is the only thought coursing through your mind.
You try to unbutton his shirt, but you can’t seem to process it. An upset whine from you, has Rhett’s hands replacing yours, getting the shirt off far quicker than you could.
Your hands falling to trace along his stomach, a smile gracing your lips, and you’re leaning in to kiss him.
Pressing into to him, needing the feel of his skin pressed against your own. The kiss far more than just that, Rhett’s hands rising to cradle your face, and, in that moment, you know you can’t leave him again.
He was as much a part of you, as your need to breath. Without him; it was like you’d been under water, your surrounding muffled. Being back; was like you were experiencing the world again, like you’d been gasping for air, and he was that first breath.
“Need you, Tilly.” The hand cradling your face, has his thumb tracing along your bottom lip. Gently tugging it down, you nipping as his thumb, your gaze never leaving one another.
“Let me have you.” The look in his eyes, pleading for you. Not for just a fuck; but you, wholly.
“I’m yours, Abbott.” Kissing him softy, leaning back to mutter against his lips. “Only ever been yours.”
He sucks in a harsh breath, his eyes watching you, silently questioning you. Waiting for you to laugh in his face, to tell him you didn’t mean it.
“I’m serious Rhett, —” Your voice cracks slightly as you watch him, overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through your body. “I — I’m not leaving you again. I can’t.”
You're afraid that tears might fall, the events of the night weighing on you. You know that Rhett loves you, you don’t need to hear it, he’d showed you how he did your whole life.
“I love you so fuckin’ much Tilly, never been anyone else. Not even with you gone.” Your breath is sucked from your chest when he mutters it. Your eyes shocked and questioning. “No one else baby, not even the bunnies.”
The revelation has you surging forward in need, finding out that he had always been yours, sets your skin a flame. Your hands fall to this belt buckle, tugging it undone, as he works at your jeans. The both of you curse as Rhett gets your jeans unzipped, but can’t lower them down your legs. You rise up, ripping them and your panties down your legs, and throwing them into the back of the truck.
Rhett laughs as you do it, your friendship and teasing spilling through the tension momentarily.
“Don’t laugh a me.” Your voice is teasing as you say it, loving the ways his laugh is so carefree. “Now get those off.” You motion to his jeans, more than ready to feel all of him against you.
“Yes Ma’am.”
He pulls them down quickly; a groan leaving his lips at his hard cock snaps up to rest against his tone stomach. The tip red and dripping with precum, your hand reaching out to stroke him.
His length pulses in your palm and you can’t stop the way you bite your lip. The need to taste him overwhelming; the need to have him groaning under your touch.
His eyes move down to glance at your dripping heat, his hands reaching out to grab you instantly. Fingers tracing down your hip bones and up your thighs, teasing you, your cunt clenching down in anticipation.
“Touch me, please Rhett.”
As the last syllable of his name leaves your lips, his fingers ghost along your slit. Slipping into you slightly, then pulling out to graze your clit. Your hips buck as he does it.
Rhett’s other hand comes up to rest on your hip, holding you in place.
“Hold still.” The bite in his tone pulls at your core, his eyes watching your reaction. Gaging just how far he can push you, and when you bite your lip, his hold on you tightens a bit more.
“You gonna be my good girl?”
The way your eyes snap up to him, slightly glazed over, and the hurried nod you give him, makes him let out a low groan.
His fingers slipping back into your tight channel, nudging that spongy little spot, barely grazing it. Your hips drop farther onto his lap, working to feel him just a bit deeper and when they don’t, you’re crying out.
“Need your cock.” The burning in your core insufferable; and making your mind hazy.
“Take it darlin’.” His nose nudges against your own, lips barley touching.
“Take what’s yours, baby.”
Heat surrounds you, your mind lost in need, and you’re moving to hover over his cock as he finishes the sentence. Your mind only clearing up slightly, looking up into his eyes.
“There’s never been anyone else for me either.”
And you’re sinking down around him.
Those eight months apart, make it feel like he might break you. Your legs tremble, your heat stretching and you’re cursing out.
Your head drops back as a gasp falls from your lips. His cock hitting that little spot perfectly. Too deep, but not deep enough.
A string of breathy whines fall from your lips, and Rhett swears you’ve never looked prettier.
Eye’s glazed over, lips unable to form words, so fucked out, and all you’ve done it sit on his cock.
His hips buck up just sightly, and you’re dropping forward leaning against his chest, mumbling incoherently.
“So, fucking tight for me baby.” His hips buck once more, enjoying the reaction from you. Like his cock has broken your mind, leaving you to be his perfect little doll. “Such a good pussy baby.”
The praise has you keening against his chest, your hips rising up slightly, before dropping back down. Your heat clenching around him, like a vice, his own head dropping back to rest against the seat.
“That’s it baby, take what you need.”
His words spur you on, hands resting on his shoulders as your repeatedly rise and fall on his length. Your hands move to the back of his hair and pull him forward. Needing to feel his lips on you, the pace of your hips speed up.
The burning in your core only rising. Mouths barely touching each other, as breathy whines fall from your lips, working to keep yourself upright.
A particular hard thrust from Rhett has your head dropping back and a loud moan to leaving your body.
Rhett’s lips surge forward, working on your neck as your fingers dig into his scalp. Tugging and pulling his hair as you climb higher.
He can’t hold himself any longer, grasping your hips he pulls you up off himself only slightly. Before you can even register what’s going on, Rhett’s got the center console up and you laid out stretching across the seats.
His eyes watch the way your chest rises in hurried breaths, how he’s got you laid out before him like a god damn feast.
He’s sinking back into you, grabbing both your legs, and wrapping them around his waist. Fucking into you at a feverish speed, your hands above you, grasping the door handle. White knuckled and crying out every time Rhett surges forward.
The heat within your core becoming all too much as he fucks you. Hips snapping, and hitting that little spot, that has tears gathering in your eyes.
“Please, need it.”
Your babbling uncontrollable, body withering underneath Rhett.
“I’ve got you Tilly.” The snapping of his hips speeding up, and his hand reaching up to cradle your face. Your wild eyes silently beg him for more, anything to push you over the end.
His own release, tittering on the edge. He needed you to come first though, need it to see his girl fall apart on his cock.
To feel your cunt clench down on his cock, as you screamed out his name.
A sharp whine leaves your lips and Rhett feels you clench around him. His hand resting on your face, thumb stroking your cheek, waiting to give you that final push.
Your eyes fall to each other, silently begging.
“Let go baby, daddy’s got you.”
You tumble over the edge, hands grasping at Rhett. Cunt clenching around him, as his own hips stutter.
“Wanna feel you daddy. Need to feel your cum.” Your voice is breathy, as you clench around him even tighter.
Rhett’s hands fall to rest by your head, hips stilling as he coats your walls. His hips slowly fucking into you, coating you completely.
Claiming you as his, and his alone.
His face rests in your neck, as he feathers gentle kisses across your neck and jaw. Causing you to giggle, when he kisses behind your ear.
The both of you enjoy the feeling of each other, needing this moment of peace in each other’s presence.
Rhett pulls away slightly and your hand holds onto his cheek as he stares into your eyes. Love seeping from them, and incasing the both of you.
There would never be anyone else for you, he was it.
Your first love, your best friend, and the man you wanted to marry. How you stayed away for so long eluded you, but you wouldn’t be doing it again.
🍒 Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Y/N 'Cherry' Bishop, Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Y/n 'Cherry' Bishop
★ Fluff ❊ Angst ✓ Smut
🍒 A/n: I'm excited about this one! It's a lot different from my normal work, but I hope you guys love it just the same. (repost) The chapter list/layout is subject to change.
✰ A/n: This series is just gonna be done in random order lol. Let me know if you want a part 2! Also, I do not have a taglist, follow my library and turn on notifications for updates!
✰ Library
The other line of the phone call goes silent and as you pull it away to end the call, you quietly wonder when your whole world had gone to shit. You stare at the phone screen for a minute, the dial pad blurred as a single tear falls from your waterline. You’re quick to wipe it away, and both hands brush against your cheeks before you take a deep breath and smile.
The bar stool is cool against your legs, and the small tick of your legs is more than annoying. The rhythmic tapping of your heel against the metal base rings through your ears, like a ticking clock. Though you couldn’t move, not when you had an array of photos scattered in front of you of your husband with some hussy.
You glance at the clock on the wall and watch as the hand slowly ticks in a countdown. You grab your glass of wine and finish it in one go. It might have only been 11:30 am, but you needed a drink, in the form of liquid courage.
You slide off the stool and put the now empty bottle of red wine into the recycling and your glass in the sink. Your hands smooth down against your waist to fix your skirt and blouse. The one-to-many buttons undone, and your skirt might have been a tad short for visiting your husband, but you truly didn’t care.
You gather the pile of pictures, as well as the divorce papers you had drafted, and make your way to your car. The pictures had shown up in the mail not even a week ago, with no return address, and left you with no idea who had sent them. You had your suspicions that something was going on, but you honestly didn’t think he was that stupid. Though you had been proven wrong, and it was even worse than you assumed. You clocked that the girl in the picture was Beau’s pretty new assistant and a small smile forms on your face at the realization that they would both be handled in one swipe.
The drive doesn’t take long, no, Beau had made sure that the house was close to the base. All of those late nights now make perfect sense. You get past security easily, they all knew you, you had been married for 5 years now and were on base regularly. Apparently not enough though, given that you hadn’t caught them in the act.
Your hand settles on your purse as you park to grab the tube of lipstick, reapply a coat, and check your hair before getting out. You slip from the shiny Audi, not so gently slamming the door, before moving for the set of buildings.
You catch sight of a few pilots, and you give them a teasing smile as you walk past, their gazes burn into your back as their eyes settle on your swinging hips. The pilots had always loved you, the 11-year age difference between you and Beau, put you at the exact age of most of his men. Your heels click against the tile floor with each sway of your hips, and your stride speeds up the longer you think about their affair.
You catch sight of the little hussy typing away at her desk, and her eyes flash up to you at the sound of your heels. Your stride doesn’t slow, not even when you see the door to Beau’s office shut.
“You can’t g–”
Your glare and the finger in her face shut her up. You can hear your husband's voice through the door, and you can recognize a few of the others too, but can’t place them. Your hand grasps onto the doorknob to turn it while giving the door a firm shove.
The door knocks off the back wall and has the four men in the room going silent. Your eyes skirt around the room, looking at each of the pilots before you even think about looking at your husband.
The only one you know is Maverick and while you don’t recognize the other two, they sure are pretty to look at. The pair of them remain silent as they look at you, the blonde’s eyes tracing up and down your body before giving you a dazzling smirk. The other has dark brown hair and a mustache that you’re sure would feel like heaven between your legs. His eyes watch you, though when you give him a wink his eyes seem to dazzle with imagines of all the things, he wants to do you.
“I tried to sto–”
“Shut up, you little whore.”
The words drip venom as you say them and it has everyone’s eyes widening in shock. You catch her out of the corner of your eye and you almost laugh at her face of pure shock. Though it doesn’t matter, and your eyes only move from the two pilots when you see Beau start to get up.
“Sit down.” Your tone is anything but playful and it has your husband ready to argue. You slip farther into the room, before knocking the door closed with your heel.
“Maybe we should just step out.” It's Maverick that suggests it and you can see how uneasy he stands in the corner.
You look back at Maverick and give him a sickeningly sweet smile. He seems apprehensive about giving you one back, though both pilots in the chairs are more than willing to give you smiles that just about make your knees weak.
“No, I’m going to be really fast.” Your eyes cut back to Beau, and you can tell that his temper is barely remaining at bay. “Probably about as fast, as you fuck that little bitch.”
The flash of recognition in his eyes has you smiling, as a small laugh falls from your lips. You watch as he sinks back into his chair, and his eyes flash around the room avoiding your gaze. You slip between the set of pilots and stand directly in front of Beau’s desk, bending forward so that you can lean on the desk. Though the small pop of your hip has your skirt rising and you are positive that blondie and stash are enjoying the view.
“You gonna look at me?”
His eyes flash to you for a second, before he’s back looking out the window. Your tongue sucks at your teeth and his avoidance is only making you madder. You harshly slam the stack of pictures on his table, and you can feel the three men behind you lean forward to see. A whistle falls from one of them, while the other covers his cough with a laugh, and Mav seems to be choking on his own spit.
You watch and wait for Beau to look at you, though his gaze moves from the pictures and back out the window. Your heel taps on the floor, and you can feel your temper rising with each passing second that Beau won’t look or talk to you.
“Have anything to say for yourself?”
Your question is met with silence and another laugh falls from your lips before you're grabbing the pictures and turning around.
“He won’t look at them, you boys want to?”
The blonde gives you a teasing smirk and you can tell that he wants to play along, though stash places a hand on his thigh when he goes to lean closer to you. The sight of the pair only makes your smile grow, and when you turn back around hoping that Beau is finally looking toward you.
Your nails tap on the desk, “Don’t you want to at least try and tell me they aren’t what they look like?”
Your voice is questioning and slightly teasing, yet you still get no reaction. A frustrated breath falls from your chest and your hand on Beau’s desk stops tapping to settle on a paperweight. You glance down and find a glass ball, that just barely fits in your hand. Your eyes trace back up to Beau, finding him still avoiding you.
“Fucking look at me.”
The glass ball is flying through the air before you know it and smashing into the wedding photo in on the shelve behind him. It just barely misses the side of his head, though it finally gets him to look at you and you almost want to laugh at the sight of his worried eyes. He should be fucking worried, you were the one with all the power now, thanks to the prenup he had you sign.
“Here’s how this is gonna work,” You can tell that he wants to cut in, though he remains quiet. “You’re going to sign these papers and I am going to take just about fucking everything from you. The house, the bank account, joint and personal, four out of five of the cars. Baby you’re not even going to have a pot to piss in.”
You lean up from your place against the desk, to move around closer to Beau. Your hand dances across the back of his car, as you lean in close to his ear. Your eyes remain on the pilots in front of you, enjoying the way that they follow each move you make.
“But do you know what I’m going to really enjoy, baby?” Your eyes fall to Beau’s hands that rest in his lap, clenched in a near-death grip. Your lips brush against his ear and the small shiver that runs up his spine makes you smile. “I’m really going to enjoy when Commander Kazansky gets ahold of you, he should be here anytime.”
That has his back going ridge and you have to step back quickly as Beau shoves back his chair. His eyes are on fire and you step around him, to walk closer to the pair of pilots. You didn’t think that Beau would raise a hand against you, though you also had just threatened his career.
“You’re lying.”
His voice is seething and if you weren’t the one in the line of fire, you might have laughed.
“No, I’m not.”
It’s clear and crisp and only adds to the raging fire that is your soon-to-be ex-husband. His eyes are on fire and as he steps toward you, you step back though your hips are met with a pair of hands that stable you. At first, you glance down to find a pair of hands that have your blouse in a death grip, and then following it up, you find blondie and stash standing behind you, glaring at Beau.
“Get your hands off my wife.”
The hands at your waist tense slightly, though remain in place.
“You’ll do well to remember that the Navy doesn’t stand for violence Admiral, especially against women.”
It’s the blonde that speaks and you have to stop your thighs from clenching together. The drawl in his voice makes your breath hitch, and the small circling motion of his thumb against your hip has you breathing again.
Beau’s eyes flash to your hips, then back to the duo standing behind you before he’s stepping toward you again.
“You’ll do well to remember your place, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, Admiral, remember your place.”
How you had all missed the arrival of Commander Kazansky is beyond you, though you can’t help the smile that graces your face at his appearance. His eye’s cut from Beau to you and the harsh glare instantly falls.
“Y/n, Sweetheart, Sarah is just outside why don’t you go see her. You shouldn’t have to see this.”
You smile at Ice, before grabbing the photos and divorcee papers off the desk and walking to Ice.
“Make sure he signs these, won’t you Uncle Tom?”
Your question is answered with a nod and wink before he grasps them from you to look at the photos. His hand rests against your arm as he looks at the pictures, then he gives you a gentle squeeze before kissing the side of your head and ushering you out the door.
You find your Aunt Sarah and she instantly has you in her arms. You weren’t a Kazansky by blood, but your mother and Sarah had grown up together, and when your mother passed Tom and Sarah took you in as one of their own.
“How are you, honey?” The question is muttered against your hair, and you shrug your shoulders in answer.
“I could be worse, at least we don’t have any children.”
Your voice is smaller than you wish it was and has Sarah tightening her arms around you while stroking the back of your hair. You glance around the room and find that Beau’s assistant had despaired. Your aunt catches your gaze before you can even question.
“Tom excused her and will be having a meeting with her later.”
“I just really wasn’t expecting it, especially when the prenup stated that cheating would automatically end in the other party's favor.”
Sarah nods at you, though before she can reply the set of pilots are exiting the office with Tom right behind them.
“Sweetheart, this is Lieutenant Seresin and Lieutenant Bradshaw I’ve cleared the rest of their day and they are going with you. They’re going to help you pack all of Beau’s things and then stay with you until he picks them up. I don’t want you seeing him alone.”
At the last sentence, his eyes move from you and stare at the pair, making sure they understand his exact orders.
“Of course, Sir.” It’s the blonde one that speaks up, Lieutenant Seresin and his eyes move from your uncle to once again trace up your form. “We won’t let her out of our sight.”
“We'll make sure that she is well taken care of.”
It’s Bradshaw who comments and while it might sound innocent to your uncle, the heat pooling between your legs is anything but innocent. Your uncle dismisses the three of you and you hug your aunt before leaving. The pair of pilots walk behind you closely and the hand that skirts along the back of your thighs has you smirking. You glance over your shoulder and are met with two sets of eyes that hold nothing but mischief and desire.
“Come on boys, we’ve got a business afternoon ahead of us.”
The hand beneath your skirt is yanked back and you smile at the both of them, liking how easily you’ve been able to fluster the pair.
“Right, of course. Do we need to stop and get boxes?”
You stop in front of your car and turn to the pair. You bite your lip as your eyes trail up both of their form and the flight suits that do nothing to hide the remarkable physiques under the fabric.
“Oh no, Beau’s things are on the front lawn already.” Your finger comes up to trace along the zipper of Lieutenant Bradshaw’s suit before you switch over to Lieutenant Seresin and take a small step closer. Your bodies are barely touching and the flex of his fist at his side is all that’s stopping him from grabbing your waist.
“But I’m sure I can find something to keep both of you busy.”
Let me know your thoughts and any feedback you have. I haven't written in forever, and I am a bit anxious...
Snippet Below of Hangman x Single!Mother
Your tears don’t go unnoticed by the three men as you pull back up to your office. Jake, Robert, and Bradley all exchange looks as you park and get out of the car. You avoid their gaze as you get Mathew out of the car.
“Uncle Roo, can we look at the planes.” Mathew yells to the men as he notices them, a massive smile forming, and his horrible day forgotten.
“Yeah buddy, all the planes. Bob even said he’d let you be Nat’s new WSO.” Bradley laughs and then gives a knowing look to Jake. “Your Momma and Jake are gonna go pack up her work for the day, then get you a bag ready to have a sleep over with me.”
You go to comment, but Jake steps forward. Wrapping his arm around your waist, “Cyclone already knows darlin’. You and me are gonna work on flight plans at home, then have a nice relaxing night.” He finishes with a loving kiss on your cheek, that you can’t help but lean into. Your body relaxes in his embrace, dropping your shoulders you lean father into his touch.
