#flyboy!drabble

-

“Can I sleep with you tonight, pleaseeeee,” your daughter ends her request with a loud whine as she tunnels her way into your side, body burrowing further under the covers until only a mop of hair remains peeking out from the top.

You open your mouth to respond, but Jake beats you to it, his head peeking out from behind the sliding door separating your bathroom from your bedroom.

“You know the rules princess,” he says, voice slightly muffled but the toothbrush sticking out of his mouth.

It makes your 6 year old sigh, as she springs up from hiding place.

“Just once,” she wails, her bottom lip sticking out, arms folded across her chest.

“No,” Jake calls out as you hear him rinse his mouth.

“That’s mean Dad,” she huffs out as she begins to scramble. You watch, an amused tilt on your lips as she frowns, body both scrambling and flailing around in anger as she manages to lower herself, feet first from your bed to the ground before running out of your room and into the hallway.

“Where’s she?” Jake asks as he emerges from the bathroom, shirtless, with only a pair of sweatpants on, the tips of his hair still damp from his shower.

“Ran back to her room,” you say, amusement painting your features as you tilt your head towards the bedroom door, “you know you could indulge her for once.”

“No,” Jake says as he walks over to your side of the bed. He shakes his head lightly, causing droplets of water to fall on your face. It makes you swat him lightly, the back of your hand coming into contact with his hip, “we let one in and it’ll never stop.”

Jake loved his children, but it was one of his hard rules. Fell asleep in your bed? He was happy to carry a child or two back to their room. Had a nightmare? He was happy to squeeze himself into the child bed until said child fell back asleep, but his bed - that was off limits, a sacred space of sorts if you would.

Jake bends at the waist to place his palms flat against the surface of the mattress, effectively confining you to the space between his arms. He kisses you on the lips; you can feel the dampness of his hair brushing against his forehead.

“I’ll put her to bed,” he says against your lips before pulling away.

“She has your attitude,” you say to which he makes a face.

“We’ll leave her with one of my sisters, can’t have two of us now can we?” He grins at you as he straightens up again.

It makes you chuckle and you roll your eyes at his humour. Jake winks at you before turning to make his way towards the door.

“You’re MEAN,” you hear the little holler from down the hallway and it makes you laugh.

“She does have my attitude,” Jake sighs, shaking his head with a glance back at you, “no, you’re mean,” he hollers back, tone light and amusement heavy in his voice as he makes his way into the hallway

This is just me clearing up and finishing off the one billion wips sitting in my drafts…. these are just moments tbh.

Wish you were here.

Jake shoots off the text to you, telling you for what seems to be the hundredth time in that day that he wishes you were here. He sticks his phone back in his pocket, but not before taking a glance at his lock screen - a photo of you from a recent weekend where you both had gone to a flower market to pick up some blooms for home and Jake had managed to snap a candid photo of you bending down with your nose to a bouquet of fresh stalks.

“I’m sick of you moping,” Jake’s sister, Emma says as she comes into view, Layla in her arms. Jake opens his arms for his niece to which he gets an immediate response of her attempting to wriggle out of her own mother’s hold and into his. It makes Emma roll her eyes and Jake grin.

“We like Uncle Jake better don’t we,” he chuckles as the little girl secures her place in his arms and lets her head drop comfortable on his shoulder with a giggle.

“After all I’ve done for these kids,” Emma sighs dramatically in jest as she reaches out to tickle Layla’s stomach which makes her squirm in Jake’s hold.

“I’m not moping,” Jake says as Layla wriggles further into his hold, returning to Emma’s original topic of conversation, “I just miss my wife”

“Not your wife yet,” Emma corrects, but teasingly. Jake had taken to call you his wife as the wedding grew nearer - something he had easily, and happily, fallen into.

Inspired by this picture because hot damn (i also blame this on you @lostinthefandoms11) - jake seresin x you / set in the flyboy!universe but you can read this as a standalone

-

“Where are you going dressed like a city boy?” the question from Grandma Doris makes Jake pause in his step, the set of keys he was swinging around his index finger jangling as he takes a few steps back, popping his head around the archway that leads into the large sitting room.

“To fetch my wife,” Jake says with a wide grin in his face, not bothering in the slightest to hide his glee.

“Must you take that beast you call a truck?” She continues with her questioning, gaze flickering with disdain to the keys that Jake is swill swinging around his index finger.

“Yes M’am,” Jake says his grin managing somehow to grow even wider, amusement trickling down his features at his Grandmother’s obvious distaste for his obnoxiously huge truck, modified excessively and to his fancy.

“Go,” she dismisses him with a sigh, before turning back to the book in her lap, knowing that her grandson was impossible to reason with.

“Love you,” Jake calls out before disappearing around the archway.

-

You’re sitting in the back of Jake’s truck, perched on Jake’s lap with your knees straddling either side of him, a gentle breeze darting around both of you in the early evening sun, a soft throw spread out on the surface of the back of the truck. His hands are around your waist, anchoring you down, your hands resting, one on the side of his neck, the other hand loosely off the side of his face. You both have your eyes closed, lips, tongue and teeth moving against each other.

-

Jake hears a sudden, series of loud whistles and cheers - the ruckus enough to make him pause the conversation he is engaged in with Javy and Bradley, his head craning towards the commotion. His brows furrow slightly as he tries to make sense of what it could be, only for the space between his eyebrows to smoothen out once he understands.

“Wow,” Javy’s voice and low whistle fills the space beside Jake.

“Girl looks good, Hangman,” Bradley affirms, throwing a glance back across the table at Jake before taking a swig from his beer bottle.

“You mean hot?” Natasha’s voice slices in, as she leads both her charge and yours over to the group table. “You’re welcome, by the way,” she adds pointedly in Jake’s direction.

Jake ignores her, choosing instead to take in the outfit you have on - straight jeans hanging from hips, an oversized blazer covering your shoulders, and beneath the pièce de résistance of the outfit that made all the difference today, a lacy black bra peeking out.

“Hey,” you say, about to take the empty seat on the other side of Jake, only for him to tug you onto his lap instead where you end up sitting side ways, body angled towards him.

“Already?” You hear Reuben’s voice, which Jake ignores, choosing instead to slide a hand under the blazer, fingers pressing themselves onto your side.

You grin at him, words unspoken but your question clear.

“I fucking love it,” he says, as his other hand rises to tug your face towards him lightly.

“Really?” You ask, your lips inches from his.

“You think?” He murmurs back as you shift on his lap. Jake can feel his pants tightening, like he was 18 years old again, and he knows so can you. It makes you chuckle as you let your lips connect with his briefly. Pulling away to a combination of groans and a chorus of yells to get a room and one “not again?”, you lean your lips towards Jake’s ear, voice soft.