“Keep your hands there sweetheart,” Jake grunts out, voice hot against your ear as his grip tightens against the skin of your waist.

You knew this was coming 🤭

This is ABSOLUTELY FLY!BOY JAKE!!!! And my first thought about it, bringing his newborn to Grandma Doris’ ranch for the first Christmas 🥰

And you absolutely steal this sweater from him and he never gets it back 🤪

ABSOLUTELY FLYBOY!JAKE

-

“She’s here,” Jake’s voice rings through the foyer as he steps through the heavy wooden doors of Grandma Doris’s entrance. You glance down nervously at your newborn who is nestled in the baby car seat which Jake has a firm grip on, but thankfully, your well swaddled baby remains fast asleep.

The clamour of footsteps is almost thunderous as the Walton / Seresin brood rushes to the door. The coos are almost instantaneous as they catch a glimpse of the newborn, with even the nieces and nephews wide eyed. Grandma Doris, Grace and Emma had seen her at birth, but this was the first time the rest of the pack were casting eyes on her in the flesh.

“She’s so tiny,” one of Jake’s nieces say in awe as she takes a small step forward to peer into the car seat which Jake is still holding steady in a hand.

“She’s like a little bean,” another nephew supplies as the crowd tiptoes forward while Jake sets the car seat on the ground.

“Don’t crowd her too much,” Grace Seresin’s voice rings out in warning.

“Still can’t believe you produced such a cute kid,” Emma jests cheerily as you watch your newborn yawn and shift.

“What can I say, I picked a great wife,” Jake counters with a smirk while sliding his arm around your shoulders as you both watch the crowd take turns to peer into the car seat under Grace’s watchful eye.

from this list. with flyboy!jake. argh, there are 10000000 scenarios i can cook up for this but here is one that has been in my head for a while. in the flyboy era itself, pre them getting together (we don’t have enough of these moments!)

also readable on its own!

-

Your eyes are glued on the television screen, watching as the main character traipses through the house. You can’t tear your gaze away, but the pillow which you are clutching to the front of your chest, eyes peeking out from behind of is telltale of just how terrified you are. It is irrationality at its finest, you know it is coming, the theatrical jump scare, but when it happens it will frighten you all the same.

You huddle further into Jake’s side, as much more as you are able given how snugly tucked into his side you already are, and you feel his arm tighten itself around you. With your gaze so focused on the television screen, you miss the way he glances down at you with a smile that is equal parts fond and amused.

He glances back to the screen in time for the jump scare, the face of the fictional demon filling the screen in a sudden swoop. Jake barely twitches, because having your life hang between the balance of life and death every mission you fly alters your perception of fear. He heard a yelp from you, as you clutch the pillow closer to your chest, all while turning to bury your face into the crook between his chest and arm. The action causes his arm to fall more fully around you, engulfing you in a hold against him. Jake relishes in the feel of your body against his because nothing else feels so right.

He glances back at the screen before chuckling and squeezing you towards him.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CsjoXIgpDC3/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

It is!!! (context)

Disclaimer - Please don’t come for me on accuracy on institutional workings. This is just for fun and fiction

-

It is truly a sight to behold, Commander Jake Seresin striding into base with a mini version of him nestled in the crook of his arm. They have the same green eyes, but her hair is slightly darker than his is. His expression is same as always, indifferent but tinged with just that bit of smugness. His uniform is as it always is - crisp, fitted, well pressed, and it stands in stark contrast to the clash of colours the child in his arms has donned, all complete with a tiny tiara adorning the top of her head.

The unlikely duo attract stares, as they make their way towards the main building, the sound of the non stop babbling of the little girl in Jake’s arm eliciting smiles and a number of chuckles from those that pass.

“Well what do we have here?” The distinct voice has Jake’s daughter twisting on his arms, her head whipping around excitedly as she tries to find the owner of the familiar voice.

“Uncle Braaaaaaaaaaadley” the little voice yells out as she flails around, legs scrambling to be let down to the ground. Jake obliges, bending at the waist to place her down. She’s off running the moment her sneakers hit the ground, body hurtling towards Bradley who catches her with the familiar ease of someone who was clearly a father himself.

“Hi princess,” he says, tapping her tiara lightly as she responds with a giggle, tiny hands slinging themselves around his neck. Jake sighs, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he watches. It had been years since he and Bradley stopped making a dig for each others throats, but that didn’t mean that Jake didn’t feel the slightest bit of chagrin at the fact that his youngest’s favourite was “Uncle Bradley”.

He watches Bradley turn his head to mutter something in hushed tones in his daughter’s ear, and Jake knows, knows the moment her eyes light up in glee as they both look to him - deep brown irises and greens as piercing as his own.

“Don-” he starts, only to be caught off by a small but thunderous yell.

“JAKE,” he watches his daughter yell at the top of her lungs as Bradley howls with laughter.

[Do not ask me how long this has been sitting in my drafts undone. But I’m on a mission to clear things.]

😩😩😩 LINDS HOW COULD YOU. i went on a really scenic coastal walk the other day (and it was cool there, but also warm when the sun came out) and this reminds me of that arghhhhhhhhhhhgggg. (again - don’t ask how long this has been in drafts 😂)

Context: Flyboy (but readable without)

You wake up to a warm hand sliding under your top, stroking the skin of your stomach, the tip of Jake’s nose brushing against the back of your neck.

“Jakey,” you breathe out, voice crackling from sleep, your body nestling back into his, eyes still screwed shut.

“Time for a run,” Jake says into your skin as he presses a light kiss into the back of your neck. Vacation or no vacation, when you were a Naval Aviator, fitness standards had to be maintained.

“What time is it?” You ask groggily, unmoving, eyes still closed.

minors DNI. NSFW.

“Jake,” his name rolls off your tongue in a moan so sensual and full of want that it should be illegal. Jake takes you in, all of you - the thin barely there strap of your flimsy white sundress slipping down your shoulder, the skirt of it bunched around your waist, your eyes glazed over with ecstasy, one of your hands hooked behind his neck as an anchor, the other flat on his chest as your hips move almost frantically in an up down motion. He can hear how wet you are, the sounds of you fucking yourself up and down his length filling his entire truck.

You both should have really been in The Hard Deck twenty minutes ago, but the sight of you in that tiny, flimsy white sundress, the fact that he could see the outline of your thong when you moved a certain way and your nipples straining against the fabric - Jake should have known that this is where you both would end up: in the corner of the parking lot outside The Hard Deck.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous ,” his voice is a deep, almost growl as the pad of his finger circles your clit. You mewl as he applies more pressure, his strokes picking up pace, circling faster.

“Want to feel your cum in me,” you all but whimper as you feel your cunt start to clench, the tight coil of pleasure that is your building orgasm reaching its peak, ready to explode. You reach your climax before Jake. He watches you, a gasp coming from parted lips, eyes rolling back in pleasure, thighs convulsing as you attempt to clench them together; and it does it for him - he lets go, fingers moving to grip your hips, pushing you firmly down onto his lap, his forehead falling onto your chest as he rides through his own waves of pleasure.

-

You both walk into The Hard Deck, hand in hand, thirty-five minutes after you were supposed to be there. You have one of Jake’s jackets, brown, leather, draped across your shoulders, the sleeves folded up for a better fit.

“They fucked,” Payback snorts into his beer as the entire group swivels their heads around to stare at you both.

“His smirk is always wider after,” Bob muses.

“Always,” Bradley affirms to Natasha who nods as she catches your eye and winks at you from across the bar. It makes you blush, something which Javy doesn’t miss.

-

Jake runs a hand across his face as he settles back onto his bed in the small windowless ship cabin, his body leaning against the cool wall that flanked one side of his bed, legs dangling over the edge. His body was tense, tired from the ruthless flying of the day. He had taken a shower to cool off after the debrief, but his body still felt warm, overheated to the touch. Every mission they went on was physically demanding, exhausting - because it was a literal fight for your life and the lives of everyone you went with, but more so, it was often mentally taxing. Jake loved flying, loved the thrill, but every now and then there would be one mission that got to him more, that tired him from the inside out.

He reaches over, sticking a hand under the single pillow at the head of his bed, pulling out his phone which he had flipped face down and hidden - a strange ritual of his before every mission. Jake wasn’t entirely sure why he did that, but there was something about the thought of someone walking into his cabin if he didn’t make it back alive, picking up his phone and gaining access to every facet of his personal life that bothered him. It was stupid of course, because in the event he didn’t make it back, they would find the phone, it would have just been a matter of time - but hiding it, as childish as it was, made Jake feel as if allowed him to keep what was personal to himself personal for longer.

The phone screen lights up as soon as he flips it over, and Jake’s thumb swipes along the notifications that litter the brightly lit rectangle. It hadn’t been that long since he had seen his phone, from pre-mission briefings to post-mission debriefs it had been a little over 12 hours, give or take, but it had felt like an eternity. Jake’s thumb pauses when he finds what he is looking for, clicking into the chat which he has with you. He had never stopped texting you no matter where in the world he was, but his replies had been more sparse in the days leading up to a mission, as they always were. He allows himself a small smile as your chat with him fills the screen, the last picture you sent him, which he had seen before heading out, coming into view - one of your freshly manicured nails painted in a light, almost nude shade of pink. His eyes flicker to the new messages below, eyes devouring your words which pepper his screen.

Thank the heavens. They are finally making blueberry muffins again.

I see mister-wears-a-fancy-watch-to-workout in the gym again. He has his eyes on a new target again today; one of those yummy mummy types it seems. Will he succeed? Stay tuned.

Update: He made a move, they are talking by the smoothie bar.

She’s left, but she made it a point to wave goodbye. I guess we wait for episode 2.

Hey. I think you are out one of those missions now. You know, those things you do. You never tell me when (I know, top secret), but I can always tell - you don’t respond as much in the lead up, and then you go completely silent for a day. You think you’re sneaky, but you have patterns Mr Seresin.

The sentence makes Jake chuckle before he reads on.

I just want you to know - I know when you are gone, I miss you during the time, your lack of annoyingness becomes a painfully obvious quiet.

Oh and you better make your way back to me each time.

I hope you know that.

It isn’t an option.

So don’t even think you have a choice in this.

The chuckle on Jake’s lips morphs into something else entirely, a soft smile, which is accompanied by a deep throb in his chest and the feeling of butterflies twisting themselves around in his stomach. His eyes run over your words again, the phrase “make your way back to me” playing on repeat in his head in your voice. Jake knows exactly what he is feeling - it is exactly the same thing he has felt around you, with you, and for you, all these years.

“Oh baby,” Jake mutters to himself lowly, words mushed together - it wasn’t something he had ever called you out loud, and yet uttering it like this, having the words fall off his tongue felt so natural.

He brings his fingers up to the screen, tapping swiftly away at the keyboard, before he sends a message back.

J: I didn’t know you were the boss of me now.

His words at joking, and Jake doesn’t expect you to reply, but he sees three moving bubble float across the bottom of the screen - a signal you are typing. He glances at the top left of his phone screen, doesn’t even need to calculate to know that you are up way too late (or early) in your time.

I’ve always been the boss of you Seresin. Always will be.

He smiles, heart warming as your reply pops on screen.

J: You should be asleep.

You don’t get to order your boss around Seresin.

He starts to type a witty response, but you beat him to it.

I’m glad you’re back and safe.

With flyboy Jake 🤔

kshfoshdkdjd i know you imagined him as the one walking in, but i can only think of flyboy!jake as the accomplice to those brows - and yes of course this is this child but when she was a baby.

-

“Hey,” you call out as you enter the foyer of the house, kicking off your flats while you lock the front door behind you.

“In here,” you hear Jake’s voice call from the kitchen. You had a meet up with some old friends who were in town, and Jake had taken the kids for the afternoon.

You walk through the living room, ruffling heads and planting kisses on your older children who allow you, but mostly have their eyes glued to the movie that is playing, before you enter the kitchen to find Jake sitting on a bar stool beside the island you have in the middle of the kitchen, looking down at his laptop.

“Missed you,” he says as you approach him to greet him hello with a kiss to the side of his mouth. You had both gotten older with more children between you - but Jake was still your Jake; that never changed. You hum in response, indicating agreement m and you feel him squeeze your waist.

“How’s my baby?” You ask, dumping your bag onto the island counter - Jake knows this time you mean the child babbling to herself in the high chair beside him, who you hadn’t had the chance to look at yet, but he reaches down to tap your ass gently with his palm anyway and responds.

“I’m good.”

It makes you roll your eyes, as you turn to your youngest daughter, hands outstretched and ready to pick her up, only for you to freeze, as you stare at the two very black brows which she has etched onto her face in eyeliner.

Your brain moves to find words as your laughter babbles at you, her tiny hands reaching out for her mother, and it escapes you - a laugh that soon turns into peals of laughter. You are unable to form words, and let Jake pull you towards him.

“Like it?” He asks, almost too cheekily for a father of that many children. He hadn’t done the brows - the older kids had, and his reaction has been exactly the same as yours.

“The kids?” You manage to gasp out, knowing that it must have been them.