Jake Seresin/reader - Tumblr Posts
Request- I HAVE A REQUESTTT, you don’t have to write it if you don’t want to: (grumpy x sunshine with Jake); reader leaves little notes around the house as a reminder for Jake to be nice or to be careful or something like that, he never responds but one time she cooked one of his favourite dishes when he had a bad day before going to bed and she leaves a note and he responds before leaving the next day? Thank you so much💕💕💕
jake seresin x reader ≈ 1000 words masterlist
I LOVED THIS REQUEST TYSM FOR THIS
TW FOR: G-LOC, gravity-induced loss of consciousness, fear of loss, poor communication of sorts
The little habit began with a New Year’s Resolution to be more appreciative of those you love. It was a cheap purchase, that pad of Post-Its, but the notes you gave him every morning were the highlight of his day. He left too early for you to wake for more than a simple peck on the lips and an “I love you.”
Once, it was a quick sentence about how you wished he’d have a good day and you’d be waiting to see him when he got home. All day, he was so excited to see you that he forgot to be an asshole. Phoenix and Bob separately texted you their thanks.
The next, it was a smiley face and an “I love you so much,” written in all capitals and followed by too many exclamation points. The dopey smile stayed on his face for several hours, his words less aggressive and his voice softened. Again, Phoenix and Bob texted you their thanks, this time followed by Rooster.
The little tradition continued on for weeks, everyone eventually ceasing to thank you because they realized that Hangman was slowly becoming just Jake, calming down a bit, and it was getting tedious to text every day.
About six weeks later, Jake walked solemnly through the door two hours before he usually did, eyes cast down to your floorboards, and sighed heavily as he kicked off his boots. Emerging from the kitchen, you saw the way his shoulders sagged and immediately started towards him. “Jake?” You whispered, reaching a hand out to pull his chin up, the skin oddly dewey. You gasped when you saw tears streaking down his cheeks. “Oh, baby, what’s wrong?” You wrapped your arms around him.
He sobbed quietly into your shoulder, his own arms hanging limp at his sides as he bent down to reach your level.
Off-put by his lack of response, you began to pull away, but his arms shot up to hold you and he yelped a “No!” as though you’d stabbed him.
“Okay, okay, sweetie. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.” You soothed, petting his hair as his tears wet your shoulder. You pressed the bottom of your wedding ring against his neck, the familiar metal soothing him as his heaving chest turned to hiccups.
It was a few more minutes before he spoke. “I went into G-LOC today.”
You felt your body lock up and you began to shake, arms clenching tighter around him. “You made it,” you murmured, reassuring both of you.
“I did. You know G-LOC dreams— vivid. Mine was you.” He sighed, burrowing down against you, “As my plane went down and I woke up, I kept thinking I wouldn’t get to see you again.”
“I’m here. You’re here. God, I love you, Jake.”
He nodded, whispering the words back as though you’d scare away, before he pulled back and wiped his eyes. “Sorry your shirt’s all wet now.”
“Jake, you just went through G-LOC. I am more than happy to deal with a few tears on my shirt.” Taking the aforementioned shirt off and walking to toss it in the laundry room, you shouted, “Go hop in the shower, baby. I’m making fried chicken.”
He groaned his thanks loudly before lumbering up the stairs to reach your bedroom, where you assume he gathered his clothes before you heard the shower turn on.
When he emerged, hair wet and face clean of tears, you were scooping the last of the chicken onto a paper-towel covered plate wearing one of his clean shirts. You smiled at him before bending down to pull the fried potatoes out of the oven where they’d been staying warm. “You ready to eat?”
“Oh, absolutely,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around you when you set the baking tray down on the stove.
“Why did they not call me?” You asked tentatively, meeting his eyes.
“I wanted to tell you myself. The squad have known for years not to contact you unless I’m seriously hurt.”
You nodded, smiling gently. “Alright.” A few minutes passed of the two of you just holding one another in a loose hug. “Read the apron,” you giggled, knowing he knew full well what it said. With a hum and a raise of his brows, he pulled back slightly to glance down. Meeting your eyes again, he smirked and placed his lips gently against yours.
“Thank you for dinner, darlin’.” You both pulled apart, you grabbing plates from the dishwasher while he picked up napkins from the counter. As you dished up your food, you always touched somehow. Your sides, your feet, you just wanted contact. The two of you parked it on the couch, facing one another, and ate quietly, just happy to be in each others’ presence.
The night came to an early close, the stress of the day making you both want to sleep at around eight.
As per usual, when you woke around midnight to use the restroom, you left him a note.
In the morning, he woke to find a full sheet of paper.
My love,
You are the light of my life. My one and only. Today, you’ll be very safe as you recover from yesterday’s events, or I’ll make sure our good Admiral Bobby puts you on desk duty. Yes, that’s a threat. You’ll also instruct your squad to let me know as soon as something goes wrong, or I’ll do it myself. I’m making navy bean soup tonight. I love you, Jake. <3
His eyes filled with tears as he scrambled for a pencil, a smile splitting his face. When he found one, he scribbled:
I love you so much. I can’t go another day without you having proof of that every single day. I don’t think that made sense but you know me, what I’m trying to say. And yes ma’am, they’ll know as soon as I reach base. Looking forward to that soup tonight <3 <3 <3
masterlist