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souryogurt64 · 3 months

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you probably explain this before but what is this bad emo book and why is it bad?

It's the one that came out last summer, I don't like it because it does a lot of misleading things on purpose to like craft a narrative that is often not true and is also just like full of bad opinions

Here are some examples off the top of my head-- didn't double check but pretty sure these are all right

Quotes someone saying that Brand New never got credit for inspiring other bands to write rock operas and then almost immediately cuts to the recording of The Black Parade. Obviously, the implication here is that Brand New inspired The Black Parade. In reality, TBP came out before Brand New's album and Green Day's American Idiot came out before both.

Quotes someone who says they never liked Panic! and has never been personally involved in any capacity with Panic! as saying "Ryan left the band." Ryan and Jon were very adamant this was not the case. I do think this was a very important person to interview, but this person should not have been the one to explain the split.

The producer for Fever claims that the Plain White T's quit the Panic! tour on a specific date and its implied that this was a factor in why Ryan "left Panic." In reality, I found several sources all saying The Plain White T's performed with Panic long after this date. TBH, I doubt this happened, let alone influenced the split.

Quotes HIMSELF saying FOB and MCR went on hiatus "at about the same time" when in reality they went on hiatus 4 years apart. When you think about how short-lived emo as a genre was, 4 years is huge. This is so lazy and is probably just because he thinks Danger Days is not worth talking about because he has the same basic opinions every other man on reddit has

There's like a ton of irrelevant losers whining about Hayley Williams like she's a misandrist dictator that doesn't pay her male employees fairly. Brendon is not talked about like this AT ALL-- Hayley has "sideshows" and drama because she's a catty woman, but with Brendon it just kind of happens, oops! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

IIRC there is little to no discussion of the political/religious elements of the Paramore split and Taylor York is not mentioned at all. It is made out to be entirely about royalties and the misandrist wage gap. No one from Paramore was actually interviewed, they used quotes from a Paramore interview done by a woman and obtained permission from Vox media company, NOT the actual author. The fact that this was done is not clearly stated and is slipped into the copyright at the back.

This is like a whole side quest I don't want to get into because I had to attempt to decode what happened via LiveJournal comments which isn't the best source. But like this guy interviewed in the book who whines about Hayley's royalties like interviewed Paramore on tv. Apparently allegedly during the interview the homophobic one accused her of sleeping with Taylor York and it not being Christian or something among other things, and also he wrote this really unnecessary article about an AbsolutePunk thread where guys were talking about whether they'd fuck her or not. I think this explains a lot about how the entire Paramore conversation in the book is just a bunch of random incels whining about something that has nothing to do with them

Quotes HIMSELF saying the "Farro brothers finally left the band." At the time of the article he quotes himself on, one of the Farro brothers was already back in the band and is still in the band. But that cuts against his cute little story about Hayley being a bitch everyone hates, so he had to quote his own lie I guess. Enough about Paramore

When white band dudes like Ryan and Spencer's addictions are discussed, it is always framed in polite euphemisms. When Black musicians like Travie are mentioned in the book, it starts bringing out scary scientific drug names. Not cool.

Has this random nobody who is way too young to be an authority on this say that Pete's hardcore band was one of the first bands to address women's issues. This is absolutely ridiculous and a flat out lie. Almost a decade before this band even formed, Riot Grrrl started as a specific reaction to women's issues in hardcore. A lot of the hardcore bands Pete was playing with were explicitly and adamantly pro-life. The idea that Pete Wentz pioneered feminism in music is completely fucking ludicrous, I hate it so much.

Quotes someone who plays in a band that has written multiple songs mocking feminism and discussions of sexual assault and rape culture as saying there was no sexual assault on Warped Tour. This one in particular makes me homicidal

Somehow can't muster up a woman to ask about sexual assault in the scene, but suddenly pulls out all these random women nobody's heard of to say they know for a fact all these band dudes are straight

As a note to the above, I understand sexuality is very personal and a lot of these band dudes are straight. But that section was so mean spirited and weird and unnecessary and there were better ways to handle it, like having GNC or gay fans talk about how it meant a lot these straight guys supported gay rights early on, or how the gender nonconformity from straight guys in emo made them comfortable, or how Gerard/Brendon being out as NB/pan made them feel represented. Instead it's just weird and uncomfortable to have these random women say "I never saw anybody do anything gay!!!!"

Quotes this random journalist as basically saying Pete refused to admit if he attempted suicide or not and spun it up to get attention. This same journalist also claims to be know FOB and MCR personally and know they have beef. IDK maybe they are friends but I feel like someone legit friends with Pete would not say something so insensitive to not only him, but people who OD or struggle with suicidal ideation in general.

The lack of meaningful discussion about Brand New-- not only disrespecting the women Lacey hurt by not addressing the allegations at all, but also disrespecting Jesse Lacey himself by talking about his band basically like he wasn't in it. The name "Jesse Lacey" is only used six times. It's like he wanted to get paid fanboy about Brand New so badly he didn't care about anybody but me, me, me.

Stuff like this goes on and on and on but you get the point.

Also I want to say that I felt constantly confused on what was going on and what the fuck people were even talking about and I am very familiar with all this band lore. I've read other oral histories for bands I knew nothing about and didn't feel confused at all. This one is just badly done.

He is a bad writer. He is obsessed with quoting himself when his articles aren't well-written, and he, like most people in the book, is a nobody.

The introduction in particular is badly written. It is very obvious he felt guilty about the way he covered Brand New and sexual assault in the scene and was scared someone was going to call his bullshit. So he wrote this weird mea culpa to feminists at the front like Please Forgive Me For Loving Tortured Artist Jesse Lacey but he couldn't put it at the very front because it would be too obvious, so he wrote this weird intro where he tries to connect Paramore/MCR/FOB/Panic/Warped/VMAs in a way that is very weird and illogical and falls flat because there is no real emotion or sense behind it and it only serves as a vehicle for his Mea Culpa To Feminists. It's so weird and awkward and Paramore are, again, a complete afterthought in it. He also makes a kind of gross comment about Hayley's voice just magically affecting people's bodies after he goes on and on about how these MEN suffered and worked hard for their music. Because, y'know, she didn't.

There is no transition into the weird apology either, it is so awkward and out of nowhere after this bizarre and shitty intro.

ALSO SORRY JUST THOUGHT OF THIS there is zero discussion or acknowledgement of Gerard's gender identity in this AT ALL. I would need to go through the book but I'm pretty sure only he/him pronouns are used as well. No wonder 3/4ths of MCR were not willing to be interviewed by this chump

Last comment but in that introduction he tries to make it out like he cares about women's issues and thinks what Lacey did was wrong but the people he is quoting from on sexual assault absolutely screams otherwise. He is a sniveling coward.

TLDR if I wanted to read nobodies whine about their bad and wrong opinions on emo music I would go on Reddit . Which is fitting because he QUOTED A REDDIT MODERATOR

#where are your boys tonight

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cherrycola27 · 1 year

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All Too Well

Series Warnings: Language, drinking, military inaccuracies. Allusions to smut, eventual smut. Unrequited love, enemies to lovers. Adult themes and situations. 18+ Minors DNI

Series Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

...........................................

Chapter 1: I'm Not Fine At All

You weren't going to let Bradley ruin this redemption arc for you. So what if he didn't want to listen to you right now? Maybe you could make him see that you'd changed.

You took your drink and tucked yourself over at the opposite side of the bar. You weren't in the mood for any more words of wisdom from either of your parents. You happily sipped on your drink as you scrolled through your phone, and people watched.

"Evening, Ma'am" a voice drawled from beside you. You slipped your phone in your pocket and looked over to meet a set of emerald eyes and a thousand watt smile. Clad in his service khakis, you read his name tag, "Seresin," you remember your father talking about him.

"Hi there." You responded politely. "Why is a beautiful thing like you sitting all by yourself?" He asked you. "I don't think everyone here is thrilled by my presence." You tell him as you look over his shoulder and jut your chin toward Rooster.

"Bradshaw's been an ornery cock his whole life. Nothing new about that." He tells you. "Well, aside from Rooster tarnishing my reputation, not that I needed any help with that, most guys are too afraid to flirt with me because of who my parents are. It isn't worth them getting banned from their favorite bar or getting a shit duty station for breaking my heart." You tell him as you finish your drink.

"Penny m'dear, another round for her and put it on my tab." Jake says without breaking eye contact with you. Your mom sets down your drink and another beer for him. "Who said I was going to break your heart, darlin?"" He asks as he cocks his head to the side.

"Who said I wouldn't break yours first?" You counter. He chuckles before taking a swig of beer. "You're feisty. I like it." He says. "How about a game of pool?" He asks you.

Now you laugh. "You do know what my callsign is? Don't you Hang—man?" You ask as you draw out the syllables of his. "I sure do—Hustler. Which is exactly why I want you to be my partner. Doubles. Us versus Phoenix and Rooster." Jake states.

"You really think that's a good idea?" You ask him. "Just because we're friends doesn't mean I don't enjoy ruffling Rooster's feathers. You in?" Jake asks you.

"The only way I'm going to play is if I get a little more liquid courage in me." You state. Jake quickly orders two whiskey shots. Your mother rolls her as she sets them down. You toast with Jake and down the amber liquid. It warms you from within. "Alight, let's play." You cheer.

Jake offers you his hand as you hop down from your bar stool and grab your drink. He grabs his beer before placing his free hand on the small of your back and guiding you to the poor table.

"Evening, Pops," Jake says as he tosses Maverick a wink when the two of you walk by.

"Pete Mitchell, so help me if your daughter causes a fight in my bar. You're dealing with it." Penny says as she smacks Maverick with a bar towel.

"Hey! She's not just my daughter." Maverick defends himself. "She is when she starts acting just like you." Penny says as she prepares to watch the enviable chaos unfold.

"Rooster, Phoenix, I found a partner for pool, rack 'em and let's play a round." Hangman says at the two of you walk up the to pool table. You can already see the anger on Rooster's face.

"Y'all this here is Hustler." Jake announces the the group. "Hustler, this is Coyote, Bob, Payback, and Fanboy." Jake says as he introduces you to the men sitting. He pivots and is about to say something but Phoenix cuts him off.

"Hey, Hustler." She says with a small wave. "Hey, Nix." You wave back. "Roo." You nod you head a Rooster.

"Well, now that everyone is acquainted, let's play!" Jake claps his hands together before grabbing a pool cue and handing one to you.

You and Jake win the first round of pool, and Phoenix asks for a rematch. She and Rooster win the second game. You decided to play one last game for the best two out of three. The two tequila-sodas and the whiskey shot are buzzing in your system, making you feel giggly and flirty. You've switched to gingerale so you can ride your bike home later. During this last game of pool, you've been very touchy-feely with Hangman, and Bradley can't stand it. He has a death grip on his pool cue as he watches Jake shamelessly hit on you.

It's the final shot of the game. You call the pocket and line the eight ball up and sink it perfectly. You jump up and down excitedly, and Jake picks you up and spins you around and cheers with you. You give him a victory kiss on the cheek before excusing yourself to the bathroom.

When you come back, you noticed that the bar is a little bit busier than it was when you first got here, and the juke box is playing one of your favorite songs.

You run up to Jake and grab his hand. "Come dance with me." You demand as you drag him to the dance floor.

Jake tosses his beer bottle and follows you without hesitation. He twirls you around the dance floor through a country song and some pop jam, but then someone cues up a hip-hop track and your face lights up as you turn around and press your body to his.

His hands slide to your hips and grip them tightly as you rock against him to the beat. Some song he doesn't recognize comes on after that, but you don't make an effort to change your position. You continue to sway your hips to the music, grinding your ass over his crotch.

Rooster is sitting over in the corner watching the two of you. The jealous anger builds the more he stays nestled on his perch. He feels like he's going to be sick. He keeps hoping Maverick or Penny will do something, but they are still at the bar watching this trainwreck play out.

You slide your arm behind you and curl it around Jake's neck. You slide your fingers in his hair, and he lowers his head just enough to place a few lingering kisses on the side of your neck. He trails them up your skin. He locks eyes with Rooster as he nips your ear before whispering, "Want to get out of here?" You shake your head before replying, "Take me home, Cowboy." Rooster almost snaps the pool cue in half when he sees you lean up on your tip toes and kiss Jake. You stand there and make out with him for half a minute. You pull apart for air. You bit your lip as you savor the taste of him on your lips. He tastes like hops and cinnamon gum, and it's forigen to you.

Jake goes to settle your tabs. You tell him you're going to lock up your bike in your mom's storage shed, and you'll meet him out front.

You went around the back to grab your jacket and helmet to put inside the bar for the night and to secure your bike. You'd have Jake or an Uber bring you back here tomorrow. You were just about to round the corner when you felt a hand encircle your wrist and pull you back before pushing you against the outside wall of the building.

"Bradley!" You gasped when you saw that it was him. His body towered over you, one hand still on your wrist, the other planted beside your head as he kept you in place. "Bradley, what are you doing?" You asked him.

"There's no way in hell you're going home with Bagman." He gritted out. "And why not? I'm an adult Bradley, I can fuck who I want." You sassed him.

You cocked your head to the side and waited for his response. You could see the anger on his face. His jaw was clenched, and a delicious vein was straining in his neck, but he remained silent.

"Bradley, if you can't give me one good reason why I shouldn't let Jake rearrange my organs, then I'm going to need you to move." You told him as you tried to push him out of the way.

Bradley didn't speak. Instead, he pushed you back against the wall and crashed his lip to yours. One of his hands tangled in your hair while the other gripped your waist and pulled you to him.

You moaned, giving him the chance to slot his tongue in your mouth. You tugged on his curls as his mouth worked against yours.

He tasted like beer and wintergreen tobacco, a habit he had picked up in flight school that he just couldn't seem to kick.

His kiss was hot, heavy, and dizzying. It was something you knew all too well.

He pulled back and admired his handy work. You were breathless with flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

"I thought you said we weren't going to start this again." You goaded him. "You and I both know that it was going to end this way. It always does. I never can tell you no, can I?" He says before kissing you again.

"Get on your bike, and I'll follow you back to your place." He tells you. "Why my place? You ask him.

"You can't leave in the middle of the night if you're already home." He says matter of factly.

You smirk at him. "What about Hangman?" You ask. "I'll handle it." Bradley says.

You climb on your bike and meet Bradley in front of the Hard Deck, with Jake no where in sight.

He climbs into his Bronco and follows you to your little beach house.

The second the two of you make it through the door, you're caught up in each other. You manage to lead him to your bedroom as the two of you strip the others clothes off.

The sex between the two of you is mind-blowing. You've done it enough to know how to make each other feel good, even if your feelings had been dead and gone and buried for some time.

After losing count of the number of orgasms you've had, you collapse against the sheets and curl up against Bradley's chest for a good night's sleep.

The next morning, you wake up to a cold bed. You reach out for Bradley only to find that his side of the bed is empty. You get up and see his clothes are gone from your floor. You slip on your robe and check the bathroom. Still no sign of him.

You walk downstairs hoping that he's in your kitchen, but it is empty as well. You look out of your curtains to see that his Bronco is gone from your driveway.

So this is what it feels like to wake up alone. You sigh before taking a seat at your kitchen island. It's then that you notice the note scrawled on a piece of paper.

You open it and immediately recognize the four words written in Bradley's hand writing:

"How does it feel?"

Chapter 1 is here! Hope you guys enjoy it. Also, please don't slash my tires over toxic Bradley.

Tag list: @thedroneranger @roosterscock @shanimallina87 @desert-fern @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @lovinglyeternal @lovingbradshawafterdark @wkndwlff @shanimallina87 @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @bradshawsbaby @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @blueoorchid @milestellerlover @katieshook02 @mak-32 @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @ohgodnotagainn @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @cornishkat @littlewhiterose @annagraceevanss @djs8891

#cherrycola27 #top gun maverick #top gun #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #rooster smut #tgm #lt. bradley bradshaw #rooster x reader #top gun smut #top gun rooster #top gun fanfiction #top gun 2 #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #all too well

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mrs-weasley-reid · 1 year

Text

Bubblegum Bait

Aaron Hotchner x undercoveragent!reader

Summary: Interpol, France HQ, asks the BAU team for assistance to retrieve their missing agent from a sex trafficking case that coincidentally landed on the BAU's radar. Turns out, as Hotch took the initiative to go undercover, you were already planning your escape.

Warning: use of Y/N and L/N (not a lot), curse words, violence, sexual advances and innuendos (and more, tell me if you spot them)

A/N: this is my first Aaron Hotchner post, have mercy lol.

Derek whistled, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "Old money, hot daddy."

Emily bursted out laughing, throwing her head back against her seat. David gave his best—he really didn't—to fight the chuckle threatening to rattle out of him, settling for a tight-lipped smirk.

"I was going to say that!" Penelope argued, turning to Hotch with a huge grin on her face. "Them ladies are 'bout to get an extremely Hotch meal."

Aaron depressingly placed a hand over his forehead, weighing all his options, regretting all his decisions. His ears glowed bright pink.

It wasn't like he had never worn a suit before, but this suit wasn't particularly the same as the ones he wore everyday. This one smelled strong and sexual, radiating opulence and grandeur.

His hair was out of control, as if he was a rabid man. The cologne that laced on the sides of his neck were reminiscent of asshole and arrogance. It would've been fine if he was still in college, but he was four decades in his life time for pete's sake.

He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder, turning to find the culprit of his demise. "You don't have to do this, Agent Hotchner." The woman with salt and pepper hair gave him an apologetic look.

"We're still working on identifying the victim. It's like she never lived here." Penelope stated as she pressed a button on the remote control.

"That's because she didn't." They all turned to find a woman in her sixties, accompanied by a lot younger man. She stepped inside the conference room, "Jeanne Renaud, chief of the Lyon Interpol Headquarters."

Aaron stood up, reaching a hand out. "Aaron Hotchner." He gave her a curt nod. "I didn't get any notice about your arrival. We're unfornately about to work on a case."

A tight-lipped smile ran along her lips, motioning for the man behind her. The man began to distribute folders around the table. "The victim is Liliane Zairsev. She's from Paris and a suspected victim of sex trafficking. A month ago, we found out that this organization is moving here in America. One of us was tasked to work undercover. We haven't heard from agent in a week. Three days later, we hear news about dead women who had the same victimology as the ones in the file, Liam handed out." She breathed deeply, crossing her arms close to her chest.

"Thirty-two victims?" David raised an eyebrows. If three was a horrifying sign in their line of job, he couldn't imagine the terror of the number he just mentioned.

"We need our agent back, Agent Hotchner. We need your help." Jeanne pleaded, worry flickering in her eyes.

Aaron's eyebrows softened, "Hotch is fine." He said kindly, despite the sternness of his voice. He cleared his throat, turning to his team. "I go inside, find her, and then get us out when I give the order." He recapped, laying out the plan in brief detail.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

"The night starts with auctions. There are two types of categories, dine in or take out. We're not sure which one she's in. We don't even know if she really is there. No matter what, once you find her, fight for her worth." Liam explained, checking the wires that hung like vines around Aaron's body.

Aaron kept silent, running every possible outcomes in his head. He wasn't knew to auction events, but how would he show eagerness rather than desperation? How was he going to save you without everyone figuring out that he was a federal agent and possibly risk both of your lives?

Liam straightened himself, signaling Aaron that he was done. "Dine in or take out, as long as you choose an exclusive package deal, they will grant you a private room. That's where they would possibly prepare her for—" He paused, clenching his jaw. As your close friend, he wasn't comfortable talking about you in such disrepectful ways. But Liam knew how vital every single information he gave Aaron. "—your pleasure... She will likely be sedated, but she fights like a lion. Just calm her down and get her out of that hell hole."

It didn't take a whole team of profilers to know that Jeanne and Liam didn't merely take this mission as part of their job. It was personal. It was family. You were their family, and they wanted you back.

"I'll get her back." Aaron promised, earning a nod from the younger man. He plugged the earbud that Liam handed him.

Everyone waited for Aaron in front of the building. Some of them, Penelope and Derek, have yet to fade their teasing smiles.

But JJ was the one who had an encouraging smile, "You look good. Take her back home to her family." She fixed his tie, tapping his chest with a load of silent 'good luck.'

David threw a set of keys in his direction, "Don't hurt her. She's the only wife that stayed for more than ten years."

Aaron let out a small chuckle, eyeing a 1984 black Cadillac Eldorado biarritz convertible. "I'll bring her back by midnight." He got on the driver's seat, feeling the texture of the wheel. If only David had the kindness to whip his vintage cars out every case, Aaron would've loosen up the lines on his forehead.

"Always remember, we're inside your head." Emily pointed at her ear, creepily grinning at him

"We'll be following you too, of course. We're going to surround the place, so don't hesitate to call us in." Derek added, chuckling at Emily's words.

Aaron nodded, taking a deep breath. He started the engine and made his way to you.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

"Struggling will only make it hurt more." The man with sculpted arms growled, glowering at your smaller body compared to him.

Cuffs bit the skin around your wrists and ankles. Cold hovered all over your exposed skin. With the little amount of coverage on your body, naked was the closest you could describe yourself.

The man held you by the neck, treating you like an animal for exhibition. He was getting off your winces, how a small whimper would shiver out of your lips when he dragged you too fast. He thought he could do them to you because you were sedated.

If he only knew how much you wanted to smash his face on the wall. But you had to keep an act.

Besides that was all he could do. Watch. Because you were for other people to ogle at. For disgusting, coward men who couldn't make their wives cum, much less you even if you tried.

You were a new addition to their attraction. Tonight was your first night. And you planned for it to be the last.

A woman, who was trying her best to avoid eye contact with you, walked the opposite way of where you were headed. She carried a tray, where a small letter knife sat seductively.

Half of her face was lined by a scar, dragging diagonally across her left temple down to her right cheek. Although the scar was visible, you couldn't help but notice how beautiful her eyes were. They were of bright grey-blue.

Without missing your chance, you purposely bumped on her, falling on your feet. "Sorry," You weakly smirked, swiping the knife in a blink of an eye.

"You fucking bitch! Look where you're going, you ugly shit!" The man shouted at the woman, kicking the tray in the middle of her picking it up.

You drilled in your head how many times you would apologize to her when you managed to escape the place and watch it crumble down during your arrest.

"It was my fault," You defended timidly. Despite the mental promise and keeping an act of being sedated, you couldn't just stand there and let her take all the blame.

The man glared at you and swung his arm. You prepared for the harsh impact, but another guy called out his name.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? Are you fucking stupid?!" The other man yelled, he had blonde hair and awful beard.

You took that chance to slip the knife on your back, strapped under your bra's band, hiding it beneath the cascade of your hair. You bit your bottom lip, your movement causing a slight sting to shoot down your spine. At least you were certain that the knife was sharp.

The blonde man yanked you to his side protectively, as if what he was about to do was going to be a god-like behavior. "She's a new attraction. No one would pay if she's damaged. A bruise would lose us thousands of dollars, you stupid fuck." He lectured the other, nudging you to move.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Aaron immediately felt dirty just by standing amongst the men that impatiently waited for some tits to jiggle or ass to bounce across the one-way mirror.

Each of them either holding wads of cash or a glass of their chosen drinks. Most of them were wealthy nobodies, but Aaron recognized a few politicians from distant cities.

He lifted the glass of old-fashioned close to his lips. Aaron has been catering the drink for a good two hours now, sipping little drops to keep himself sober and alert.

So far he hasn't seen you. There just might be hope that you were simply in hiding, but safe regardless. He has seen fifteen women being shown off like antiques, the men screaming for their high prices. If he could only buy all of them to safety, he would. But Aaron was there for you and you only.

"Gentlemen! Here's our special and last beauty of the night! She's new! Fresh! And untouched! She is available for dine in to the highest bidder!"

Aaron's grip on his glass tightened.

Jeanne slid a picture of you towards Aaron. "Her name's Y/N L/N. She's a brave one." Her breath hitched, fighting the urge to cry in front of profilers.

Your hair was tied up away from your face, revealing all your beautiful facial features. You were no doubt a gorgeous woman.

But besides your attractive face, Aaron's eyes were drawn to the gold necklace that sat on your chest. It was a gladiolus flower. A hidden smile spread over his lips.

It symbolizes strength and power. He immediately knew you were someone who always put up a fight.

Your hair almost hid the beauty of your face, but Aaron recognized the necklace around your neck even from afar. It was you.

"$20,000!"

"$50,000!"

"50! Anyone want to top that? What? I heard $80,000!"

"100,000 dollars!"

Aaron stared at your dagger glaring eyes. He let a smirk twitched his lips.

You knew.

You knew where you were. You knew men were fighting for you. You knew. Which meant, you weren't sedated at all.

"Smart girl," He mumbled to himself before announcing, "Five billion."

The crowd went quiet. And if Aaron was being honest, he would've paid more, because you were worth more.

Sadly, the bureau had a budget. He had to limit himself at 500 thousand and could move to 1 million if needed, but he'd explain his actions in the privacy of his office later on.

In that moment, he only needed to rescue you.

The announcer grinned maniacally, hitting the gavel against the sounding block. "One night dine in with this beauty, sold!"

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

You weren't sure what type of man was unlucky enough to buy your time tonight. You bet he wouldn't expect a violent woman like you.

Contrary to your display earlier, you were now clothed with more fabric. Satin to be specific.

They made you change onto a black lace set. The bra pushed up every tits you could offer. A cheeky underwear that made your ass rounder. A garter around your waist that hooked on your black stockings that hugged your thighs deliciously.

You moved the letter knife on your right thigh. An easy access under the short black satin nightgown. You were prepared for battle.

The door swung open, came in the blonde man that seemed to keep his eyes on you. "Sit on the chair." He demanded.

You internally protested, but obliged. He placed back your handcuffs, but kept your ankles free. In his mind, there was no other way for you to escape but the door.

"This guy paid a lot for your time. Don't mess up. Or I'm going to make you regret it." He threatened before leaving the room.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

The payment process was crucial. Money was an immediate factor, Aaron mentally apologized to David for using his card, and for memorizing his bank account's information.

They led him down a hall filled with private rooms. Pornographic noise's echoed as they passed each door. Most from men. And if a voice of a woman managed to vibrate across the walls, they were of plea to be let go.

Aaron swore his ears were bleeding with disgust.

"This will be your room, Sir. Enjoy." The man excitedly said. He leaned a little, placing a hand on the side of his mouth to hide the words he was about to say, "I say you get the best out of this one. Everyone's dying to get a taste."

He managed to hold his fists back, urging a smug smirk to roll over his lips. "Then, I suggest you don't disturb us." Aaron stated before watching the man nod and walk away.

Aaron held the knob with hesitation. He wasn't sure of what he was going to be met with. He took a deep breath and twisted the knob, pushing the door open.

There you were, sat on a chair, patiently waiting for him.

The image was to be treasured, but Aaron had to remind himself that he wasn't the men that frequented that place.

A spark flickered in your eyes. Your lips slowly curved onto a smirk. "Hey, old man." You started in a teasing tone. "You can't just stand there and keep the door open."

Aaron's eyebrows knitted, but closed the door nonetheless after checking that the coast was clear from listening ears. "I'm Aaron Hotchner—" You cut him off.

"Strip." You casually ordered, taking him by surprise. "What are you? A cop? Fed? It's fine. It doesn't matter. Now, Aaron, strip. They're watching." Your head motioned towards the direction of the camera in the corner of the ceiling.

He took off his jacket, then began to undo his tie. "Fed. How did you know? We were thorough on my disguise." Aaron couldn't believe how amused he was. Thank god his microphone was off after Penelope begged him to turn it off due to the moans and asked to turn it back on when he found you.

You rolled your eyes, "A fine looking man like you doesn't look the type to wear a wrinkly shirt. You're obviously wired." Your voice echoed a matter-of-fact tone. "You took your first step with your left foot when you got inside the room, but it's clear to me that your dominant is your right. You have a gun on your foot. Which I think is pretty impractical. Come closer, you're here to fuck me, remember?" Your brows were raised, impatient for him to move.

Aaron would be lying if he said you words weren't affecting him. "You have a good eye." He stood before you, glowering down your face.

"Or you're just a bad undercover." You smirked, "What are you waiting for? Kiss me."

A silent huff escaped your lips when he froze. You stood up and began unbuttoning his shirt. "You're very quick to have cold feet, Agent Hotchner." The way his name rolled off your tongue was distracting.

"Hold my waist—" You swiftly grabbed his hands and placed them on your sides. "—once you have a character to play, you embody it. Because it'll get us both killed if you don't." You kissed little of his exposed chest and looked up at him with a hairpin stuck between your lips. "Now, kiss me." You repeated in a muffled sound.

Aaron finally caught up with your plans. He leaned down and owned your lips, kissing the pin from you. With one hand, he took the pin and reattached your lips together as he began to unlock your cuffs.

You pulled him closer, tugging his belt loops. You led the two of you on the corner of the room, under the vision of the camera. And just as your back made contact with the wall, you felt your hands free.

You pulled away with a gasp of relief, "Thank god, I thought I had to fuck your brains out before you could even understand." You heaved, rotating your wrist to let the blood circulate once again.

Aaron looked away, "Sorry. I was a bit taken aback." He couldn't help but notice your closeness.

"Mhm, must be that old-fashioned you've been sipping like coffee."

His gaze shifted back to you. The taste might've been lingering on his lips, but the action he took? How did you know he was taking his time with his drink? Aaron would think that you're a profiler if he didn't know any better.

"You owe me a bubblegum," You exclaimed, pulling him back from his trance. "I prefer a proper old fashioned. Whoever made your drink was pitiful."

Aaron raised a brow, "I'll pay you a box of bubblegum just for that statement." His eyes were drawn to your purple wrists. "Did they hurt you?" He asked, fanning his breath on your skin.

"They wouldn't even if they wanted to. My beauty has never failed to save my ass." You chuckled, getting a whiff of his scent. Your nose crinkled, "Who made you wear that nasty cologne?"

He chuckled at your expression, "Jeanne."

Your face softened, nodding. "Makes sense. She has bad taste in men."

Aaron was having too much fun, when a voice echoed in his head.

"Hotch, are you there? If you don't answer, we're going to barge in."

He pressed the microphone, "We're fine."

"We?" Derek questioned from the other line.

"I'm with Y/N. We're about to make our way out." Aaron conversed, still flushed against you, caging you in his build.

"Y/N? Earlier she was just a her and now you're on first name basis?" Emily teased, which Aaron rolled his eyes on.

Your brows knitted, confused by his expressions. While he busied himself chatting with whoever was speaking in his ear, you began climbing on him like he was a ladder.

You fished your knife and cut the wire of the camera. Aaron's height was a huge help for you to reach such a high place.

He helped you get down, gently holding your waist to guide you. "Don't tell me you were already planning to escape?" Aaron was filled with amusement.

"I was going to kill you if you weren't a fed." You shrugged, walking out of his body cage. You picked up his jacket, "Mind if I borrow this?"

"It doesn't suit me anyways," Aaron kidded, earning a soft smile from your still plumped lips.

"Oh, really?" Derek taunted in his ear.

You glanced back at Aaron, "Tell your friends we're on our way out. They should meet us halfway. The guys outside are not skilled in combat, but they have guns. We'd be dead before they can even shout 'hallelujah' if they don't move now." You slipped your arms inside the sleeves of the jacket.

The jacket could almost swallow your whole body. You rolled the sleeves up a little. Aaron couldn't take his eyes off you. He loved the way his clothes looked way better on you.

"Did you get that?" Aaron spoke to his ear, nodding when he got a confirmation. He glanced at you with a stern look, and you two would never admit the small tug on his lips. "Let's get you out of here."

You scoffed, "Your help is just a bonus. I'm saving myself out of this hell hole."

With silent agreement, you opened the door, immediately greeted by two men who were about to check on your state.

"Hey—" You didn't give one of them the chance to finish shouting when you kicked his adam's apple straight into the center of his throat.

Aaron's eyes widened. Did the France Interpol really need the BAU's help? You definitely didn't look like you did.

You took the two men all by yourself, stepping on someone's back as you placed a hand on your hip. You stared at Aaron with disbelief. "You just gonna stand there?"

Before he could even respond, Aaron saw a man about to attack you from behind. He pulled you by the waist with one hand and punched the man with the other.

"You okay?" Aaron twisted his neck to your direction, hand still on your waist.

A wide grin swiped over your lips, adrenaline pumping through your veins. And your body moved like it was dancing on an upbeat music.

The two of you fought your way out of that hallway alone. It made every second of waiting to escape worth it.

By the time the team met you, you and Aaron have beaten up about half of the men in the place, minus those who were merely guests.

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Jeanne attacked you with a tight embrace, cutting your air supply. "I'm so glad you're safe! Oh, mon dieu!"

Next came Liam, punching your arm. He offered a welcoming smile. "I told you to always keep your tracker with you." He scolded lightly.

"I did!" You reasoned, a playful smile over your face. "I swallowed it, but I didn't expect to shit it out and flush it down the toilet." If you were lying it would've been way easier, but you weren't.

The BAU team introduced themselves one by one. You flashed them the same sweet smile you had on your picture.

"Behavioral analysis unit..." You nodded in thought. "Sounds legit." You added with a smile.

Their eyes couldn't help but notice how Aaron's jacket still sat around your shoulders. They weren't so slick as they thought, "It's collateral." You lifted your shoulders.

They looked at you with narrowed eyes. A chuckle coming out of your lips, you motioned your head in Aaron's direction where he was talking to Jeanne and a short-haired, dirty blonde woman.

"He owes me," You announced playfully.

Spencer was the first to furrow his brows closer than it already was. Why would their boss owe you? Aaron literally saved your ass.

"I can hear you judging me, Dr. Reid." You said without moving your gaze onto his. "Is that a side effect for being a genius?"

Emily's mouth flung open, "How'd you know he's a genius? He looks like one, right? Right?" She was friendlier than you had concluded.

You smiled, glancing at Spencer. "I've been an undercover for sixteen years. Reading someone became my second nature. I suspect it's the same for all of you, since you can't stop knitting your brows as if you're reading a difficult textbook."

"Sixteen? How old are you?" Derek had a great estimation of your age, everyone did.

"She's thirty-three. So old right?" Liam wrapped an arm around you, grinning.

"You started when you were seventeen?" Spencer curiously asked. An underlying question in his mind. How?

You pursed your lips, a small pop echoing between all of you. "You know those movies where the main character was raised to be an assassin?" They nodded simultaneously, like children eager for their mother's story. "My life was kind of like that. And when I was rescued, I didn't know how to do anything else." You explained carefully.

The others joined you, making short eye contact with Aaron. Jeanne stood next to you. "And we're sad that she's retiring." She announced lightly.

JJ looked at you in awe, you were only a few years older than her. It was inspiring to hear your story. "What are you gonna do after you retire?"

"Find a job that's less undercover work, but still occupies most of my days. Old habits die hard." In short, you didn't have a plan. All you knew was that after the case, you didn't want to work as undercover anymore.

"Come work with us!" Penelope blurted, earning everyone's attention. She glanced at Aaron, "We have an opening. Right, Hotch?" A sly smile decorated her cheery face.

Aaron raised his eyebrows, then met your gaze. He does still owe you a box of bubblegum, if he remembers clearly. And seeing your gorgeous face and watching you take down unsub more often didn't sound like such a horrible idea.

He bit the threatening smirk on his lips. "Yeah, I think we do."

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #cm #criminalminds #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine

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topgun-imagines · 7 months

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Day 14: I Remember Everything

Pairings: Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x fem!reader

Synopsis: Both you and Maverick are struggling with the loss of Goose. Based on the Zach Bryan And Kacey Musgraves song ‘I Remember Everything’.

Warnings: Alcoholism, death, tears, bad coping mechanisms, break-ups & feeling of abandonment.

Word count: 1.2k

Ever since your boys went off to Top Gun, you couldn’t wait to see them. So, when family week rolled around, you, along with Carole and Bradley, boarded the plane together. Carole was ecstatic to have her sister-in-law joining her on the flight. It gave her someone to watch Bradley while she snuck in a few hours of shut-eye. You couldn’t wait to see your big brother. However, Goose wasn’t the only one you were excited to see. For the past three years, you and Maverick had been dating.

Throughout their time in Fighter Town, you had heard all about your boyfriend’s rivalry with Iceman. You remembered him from Goose’s time at the academy. You found that he was a lovely person. So lovely, in fact, that you went out with him for the entire time Goose was at the academy. You wouldn’t put his competitive side past him. Even if Maverick was stretching the truth just a little bit. You never imagined that the competition between them would escalate to where it was now. As far as you had been told, it was a healthy, safe competition. Now, however, you wanted to smack both Iceman and your boyfriend upside the head.

Your older brother was the most important person in your life. He had practically raised you. You could vividly remember crying for weeks when he left home for the academy. When Maverick and Goose had first been paired together, you had sat the rebellious pilot down and told him that while Goose trusted him, you weren’t so convinced. In that moment, Maverick promised you that your brother would always return safely to his family. Three months later, Mav took you out on your first date.

Maverick had quickly gained your trust. You soon came to learn that you and your brother were the only family that he had. That only helped to prove the fact that Maverick would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat for either of you. For that, you were immensely grateful.

Given their job, you understood that there was a large risk factor. However, you knew how good of a pilot your boyfriend was. If he had any control over the situation, everything would turn out okay. Even though you trusted him, you knew that sometimes, he didn’t trust himself. When he was up in the air, it was like he was flying against a ghost. You knew exactly whose ghost that was.

Mav had always thought that he was a disappointment, purely because he was his father's son. He had always been told that he would never amount to anything, all because of his last name. You saw how hard he worked to prove them wrong. That was one of the things you loved about him. No matter how many times he got pushed down, he always got back up.

This time, however, was shaping up to be very different than the others. This time, there was no going back.

Before they left for Top Gun, you had told Maverick about your ex. After all, you were pretty sure that he would be there as well. Oh, how right you were. It was just your luck that the two of them would end up going head-to-head for first place. At the beginning, you were thrilled with the idea of Mav and Goose getting to go to Top Gun. Now, you would give anything to keep them from ever getting a chance.

Only a few days after you had arrived for family week, there was a tragic accident. Maverick and Ice were tied for first and you knew that both of them would do whatever they could to win. What you didn’t know was that ‘whatever they could’ would come with a grave cost.

When you had first heard the news, you collapsed. You had lost your brother. The one piece of your family you had left and he was gone. Unsurprisingly, Maverick had turned into a mess. Goose was like the brother that he never had. Regardless of whose fault it was technically, Maverick would never stop blaming himself. Needless to say, Mav wasn’t handling the situation very well. Even Carole seemed to be having a better time coping with the tragic loss of her husband.

While a large part of you felt so sorry for your boyfriend, the other part wished he would open his eyes. He wasn’t the only person that lost somebody. But he was sure acting like he was. Carole had lost a husband. Bradley had lost a father. You had lost a brother. And yet none of that seemed to matter to your grieving boyfriend. To him, he was the only person that lost Goose. He began drinking his troubles away, not a single thought as to what all of this was doing to you.

Now, you were sobbing in the bedroom you shared with Maverick. He hadn’t been at the past few days of training, spending all of his time in the bar. With your boyfriend off god-knows-where, you couldn’t help but miss everything that the two of you used to have. Late nights spent cuddled up on that old ratty couch, Mav whispering sweet nothings in your ear the whole time flooded your mind as you continued to sob.

Goose wasn’t just your boyfriend, he was your best friend. A few days after the accident, the pain had worn off. Now, all you felt was numb. While Maverick had drinking, you had nothing. You had nothing to make that feeling go away. Through your tears, you finally came to a horrible realization. Your loving boyfriend was gone. He died in the same accident that your brother did.

You couldn’t stay with him anymore. Not if it was going to be like this. Was Maverick hurting? Of course he was. But were you also hurting? Yes. In the aftermath of the accident, you had assured Maverick again and again that you were there for him. That you would be the shoulder he could lean on should he need somebody. Instead, he had turned to drinking, leaving you with no shoulder at all.

Sniffling, you wiped your nose on the back of your hand and stood up from the bed on shaky legs. You hadn’t left the bed all day. Picking up the phone, you tried to call the bar where you figured Maverick was. When the bartender picked up and tried to hand the phone to Mav, your boyfriend refused to talk to you. The phone dropped out of your hand as you stared straight ahead. That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Numbly, you began packing your bags. You had very few clothes, but you threw all of them into a bag with little to no order. Soon enough, your bags were packed and you were slamming the door of Maverick’s base housing. Time seemed to fly as you called a taxi to the airport and bought a ticket home. Sure, Carole and Bradley were still here, but you had no reason to stay. You would have loved to stay for Maverick’s graduation. However, you just couldn’t bring yourself to wait around for someone that was long gone.

a/n: thank you for reading! Join the taglist!

Tagging: @ohtobeleah @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @els-marvelvsp @kmc1989 @nyx2021 @mploopssek @callsignharper @seitmai @scarletmeii @inkandarsenic

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aliceinborderlandsquidgame · 1 year

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Yandere Chishiya x Reader x Yandere Banda

Notes: Past Banda x Reader - Current Chishiya x Reader - Reader being "used". SFW. NO SMUT. -

• Thats besides the point

• This is midly terrifying.

You always thought Chishiya was never going to do something like share you.

When you told him about your past with your ex boyfriend? Well more like stalker who had killed three women and left you alive to torture you for his own fun....

Chishiya acted like the matter did not affect him yet it did. Who would try to do that to you besides him ?

He felt insulted not that he told you that.

When the prison game came and you saw Banda again you were by Chishiyas side like a little sheep against the bad wolf.

Banda did not take well your New relationship but acted as if he did not care at all.

It took just one go to the batrhoom for Chishiya and Banda to have a talk about you ending in an arregment on sharing you.

To them you were almost an object, something they could use, break and re do. They knew you would be back to them because who else did you have ?

So when you returned you found them having an intellectual talk while you were there trembling with fear.

And no, no one wanted to lead you a hand. Not in the Borderlands much less in this game.

And they made you accept, because who else would help you?

Banda used the rest of the runds to catch up with you. Mostly having you by his arms, giving you kisses all over your face and neck.

"This is midly terrifying...for you, right?" Banda joked biting your neck. "The guy who was supposed to protect you was so willing to let me have a piece of you".

Chishiya went towards both of you, peting your hair.

"Thats besides the point" He said giving you some water and snack. "I just wonder would she will react to both of us".

"So she is just an experiment?" Banda taunted pressing himself closer to you.

"She is...." Chishiya went silence looking at you. Trying to find a word that would fit what you were to him and what you will be from now on.

"She is something I want to keep"

"That, we both do"

#alice in borderland #aib imagine #aib imagines #alice in borderland x reader #chishiya #chishiya x reader #banda sunato x reader

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mercurydancer · 11 months

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Burning Matches Pt. 1

Of New Sights and Colors

Summary: Ch. 3 - "In an idle sort of way, none of them had expected for Noir’s blood to be black. None of them had expected that their sudden appearance would be just the distraction that the Lizard had needed. None of them had expected for that very black and very unexpected blood to be painting the wall behind him as Lizard’s claws dug into his flesh, and sent his body flying limply to hit the wall with a wet-sounding smack." - A story based on recovery, color, and the knowledge that you're not alone.

In honor of the new Spider-Verse movie coming out, I am going to be posting the entirety of Burning Matches to tumblr. It's already posted on AO3 under the same title, username HopelesslyLost, so if you want it, you can find it. As it is, I've been avoiding it because it's HUGE, but I figure I might as well.

Buckle up.

It was horrifying. It was dizzying. His mind spiraled in a million different directions, his body pressing against hard concrete as he desperately attempted to draw breath into his lungs, fingers scrabbling at the building, seeking something, anything that he could use to ground himself. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back, trying to focus on the roughness of the concrete that he could feel, ripping his gloves off in order to be that much closer, barely remembering to shove them in a pocket as he did so. He didn’t even notice the fact that his fingers had dug into the rough edges to the point where they were starting to bleed.

His breath was still rattling in his lungs, his body still tense, but if he kept his eyelids closed, he could at least pretend that nothing had changed.

What had happened?

One moment, Peter had been swinging after some two-bit crooks, intent on putting them on ice after they had shot up one of the poorer localities…and in Hooverville, that was saying something. The next, he had somehow swung into something that squeezed him tighter than the Sandman, and hit harder, too. When he finally was spat out of whatever it was that caught him, he found himself here. This…this…

Peter didn’t know what this was. He didn’t know what was surrounding him, had no idea what was happening, why he was here, where here even was! What was happening? Slowly, slowly, Peter peered out through his goggles, his eyes squinted as narrow as he could make them and still be able to see.

It was like an icepick was driving into his skull.

Peter closed his eyes again, heaving a breath in, and letting it whistle out.

He was having a panic-attack, pressed to the side of an unknown building, and all because he didn’t know what he was seeing. What an absolute clusterfuck. This was stupid, this wasn’t him. He had adjusted to being bitten by a spider and seeing a Spider-God before him, he had adjusted to being able to shoot webs out of his own wrists, and climb on walls - he could do this.

He could do this.

He opened his eyes and kept them open against the searing brilliance that pierced him and forced himself to actually look at what surrounded him. It made his eyes water and his pupils kept sliding over everything, unable to focus on what he was seeing. Eventually finding it too much, he instead turned his attention up, away from the flashing of…whatever it was. Was he having a stroke? A seizure? What the fuck was going on?

Focus on the sky, Pete, focus on the sky, he thought to himself, heaving in another deep breath. The sky was…the sky was odd, too. It was as open and as big as his own, but the…he didn’t even know what to call it. He didn’t know what it was that was spread out over him, that was tinting everything… Peter focused on the big fluffy clouds that drifted across the sun, taking in their appearance, the way they were so normal, and finally closed his eyes again.

Maybe this was it, maybe he was dying.

A sudden pain lanced through his head, a sharp and sudden feeling that was like his spider-sense was on overdrive, giving him the feeling like there were a million spiders crawling up his spine. His eyes flew open and there was something else over him.

Peter’s first thought was to reach for his gun, to shoot the thing that was between him and the semi-familiar sight of the sky, but the thought faded as quickly as it came. As soon as he made…eye-contact? with the thing that was above him, the feeling of spiders changed to something else. Something familiar. It almost hurt, but it didn’t, a feeling of such strong connection it was almost like he was looking at himself in the mirror.

“You…” he started softly, distantly recognizing another softer, distorted, and certainly more feminine voice say the words at the same time, “you’re like me…”

A…hatch for lack of a better word, opened up in the strange metallic thing that rested over him, blocking the sun, and a…little girl stared down at him, her eyes wide and…he hadn’t ever seen eyes like that before. A little too big, a little too bright, but at the same time he still felt like he knew them. He felt like he knew the one that was looking at him, like he was connected to her. It was an odd thought and he wasn’t sure how much he liked it, but it stuck. Because she was like him.

“Are you okay?” the girl asked him, those eyes changing, becoming even bigger, if it were possible, worry in their depths.

“I…” he started, and then shook himself. Peter saw the way that she kept glancing around her as though waiting for someone to spot them, he saw the way that she pressed into the torso of her…machine, even as she asked how he was. This odd little girl was scared, and he didn’t want to cause her anymore fear. He took all of his fear, all of his pain, and all of his confusion and balled it up internally before shoving it deep under his ribs, to be ignored until he got a spare minute (the fact that he never got a spare minute was ignored).

“I’m sorry, kiddo, I’m fit as a fiddle, just…a little disoriented.” He focused on her face, focused on those eyes, fighting to ignore everything else. “Are you alright? Are you…from here?” He pushed himself away from the building, watching as the…robot? backed up a few paces as stood up before it, allowing them to stare at each other roughly eye-to-eye. She was covered in…whatever everything else was covered in, her clothing an odd light tone, and her face shaded much differently than he thought it should be. She looked as though she could have belonged…perhaps…if everything else wasn’t so…bright.

Sure enough, she shook her head.

“I was pulled here, I…don’t know what happened, exactly, but I think we’re both in an alternate dimension,” as she spoke her voice sharpened, and her expression cleared, all of her focus on him. The fear had left her in her rush to explain, and Peter knew immediately that this was her element. “You obviously don’t belong here, you’re completely in black and white which goes against everything around us, and everything that I have seen. I also don’t belong here, see, this is the year 2018, and I’m from the year 3145.”

“Woah, back-up, it’s 2018 here?” Peter asked, finding something else to trip him up. This was shortly followed by the realization, “You’re from 3145? Who are you, kiddo, what’s your name?”

“Yes,” she responded before straightening up and reciting, “My name is Peni Parker, and I work with the SP//dr mech, my father’s mech,” she patted the interior of the…mech she was in, said mech making a pleased-sounding chirp and putting its ‘hands’ on its ‘hips.’ “Before…before he died that is. I connect to it through a psychic link with a spider that lives within the robot and together we protect New York.” She grinned, and as she spoke Peter watched as a rather large spider crawled into view with a feeling of trepidation clawing its way up his spine, watching as it perched on her shoulder and gave a brief cheer. When it did nothing else he slowly allowed himself to relax, but couldn’t keep his gaze away from that spider. “We’re a great team!” She called out and held up a finger that...the Spider tapped back with one of its legs. What the fuck. After a moment of thought he resolved to leave it alone unless it got too close. Peter had been bit before. He wasn’t going to be bit again. “I love to hack into mainframes and I love New York!” She called out brightly and broke his train of thought, and the triumphant pose they had both fallen into after their...tap...held for another few seconds before breaking and she gave a slight frown. “What about you? I know you’re like me, I can feel it, but…”

“Well…” Peter paused, trying to think of a way to condense everything he had gone through into something that would be kid-friendly and wouldn’t make the kid either pity him or…be traumatized. “My name is Peter Parker. Where I’m from the year is 1933, and I’m a Private Investigator… I got bitten by a magic spider that gave me spider powers and I’ve been using them ever since to put a dent in the crime that plagues New York. I like…” he hesitated on what he could say that he liked, looking into those wide and interested eyes and fishing through the possibilities. “I like egg creams, and I like to punch Nazis.” He paused at seeing the way that she seemed to dim, not at the idea of him punching Nazis, he could tell, but…almost at the lack of enthusiasm, and spat out something else, “I like to let matches burn down to my fingertips, sometimes, so I can…” he let his voice die out.

Her expression had only turned sadder, somehow, the robot lowering itself from its proud pose into something more somber.

Smooth.

“So, you can what?” she asked. And even her mech looked upset, which was even smoother. How the hell did he fuck it up this much?

“So, I can feel something,” he answered finally. “But that’s not important. If you’re not from here, and I’m not from here, why are we here? And where is here?”

“From what I’ve managed to gather, which isn’t much, admittedly, the technology here is all so…old,” she griped, “it doesn’t connect well with my SP//dr. But I do know there is a Spider-Man! I was in the middle of seeing if I could track him when I felt…well, I felt like there was someone I had to see around.” She ducked her head slightly. “I had thought at first that it might be him, since…well, I thought he’d be the only one from here. But I’m okay with finding you!” She grinned, a bright and happy expression. “I’m just…glad to not be alone.”

Peter nodded and kept his eyes focused on the little girl before him, watching as she shrunk slightly at the admission, her foot gently circling the metal floor of her pod. He idly wondered if she could stick to walls on her own, or if she was simply at the mercy of the robot’s abilities. The idea frightened him in an idle sort of way. Being that dependent on anything, even a mech that had a link with him, was not something he had any desire for.

He also had no idea how to answer her admission. He saw the moment that she realized this, an odd…flush spreading across her cheeks, but he couldn’t think of anything to say to make it better. Peter internally cursed his lack of people-skills and wondered how many ways he could kick his own ass.

“We…we need somewhere to stay!” she finally called out, regrouping remarkably well in the face of Peter’s own inability. “Maybe we can find the Spider-Man of this reality. I bet they’ll be able to help us! They might even know how we got here.”

“Knowing the Spider luck, he’ll probably be right in the middle of it.”

The gripe got a brief laugh from Peni, and Peter smirked to himself proudly.

“Alright, so we have to find Spider-Man. Do you have any ideas?” Peni asked. “I can connect to another mainframe and try and hack in, but…I kind of stand out.” She paused. “You definitely stand out. I don’t think they’d notice me if I just walked up to somewhere, but you…” She didn’t say anything else, and she didn’t have to. Peter hesitated, standing up and looking out at the city before them, thinking.

“You’re a Parker, right? Peni Parker?”

“Yes,” Peni responded, beaming. “And you’re a Parker, too! A Peter Parker.” She frowned slightly. “Do you think that there’s a Parker here that’s running around as a Spider-Man?”

“I don’t doubt that in the least. Two spider-people pulled out of alternate dimensions and brought to another universe with a Spider, both named Parker? Once I’d call coincidence, but this feels too focused.”

“I think so, too!” She grinned. “Alright! I’ve got something to look for now, this will make things so much easier!” Peni hunkered back into the torso of her robot, which closed before her. “Come on!” she called out, and Peter watched as she leapt to another building, the leap something that made his entire body flinch backward as he followed her movement with his eyes and simultaneously took a better look at his surroundings. It hurt, and he found himself covering his eyes, ducking down.

It took a second before Peni seemed to realize he wasn’t behind her. He felt it when she landed before him, the hatch opening again, and he forced himself to open his eyes. Her wide and worried eyes stared at him, and Peter forced himself to straighten.

“I’m sorry,” he managed softly, “I…it hurts,” he finally admitted. “I don’t know what I’m seeing, and it really…it just hurts my head.”

“All the colors are really freaking you out, huh?” she asked him, but before Peter could ask what she meant, her robot reached out. “Don’t worry! I’ll help you out, just hold still.” Peter found himself grabbed, before being positioned in such a way that he could cling to the back of her robot. He hunkered down against it, holding his hat with one hand, a terrible mixture of shame and disgust welling up within him.

Pathetic.

“I’ll just carry you! We’ll get there soon, just try and get your eyes to adjust, okay? I know you can do it!” She cheered, the face of the robot staring at him with a bright smile blinking across its ‘face’, which was odd. Peter resigned himself to being carried and felt as she adjusted herself to his weight, and then leapt.

For a moment they were in free-fall, and then her robot thwiped its wrist out, webbing shooting out and swinging them up and out. It was a familiar experience, even without the control he usually enjoyed. It also allowed him to get used to the sight of the world zipping by him, the…colors blurring together as they swung.

He had to get used to this. He had to be useful.

Peter forced his eyes to stay open and trusted in Peni to get them where they needed to go in order to gain information. They would figure out what was going on, and then they would figure out how to get home, Peter was certain. This was just another strange pothole in the road he called life. He’d been hitting them so often they were almost expected by this point.

What else could happen?

#burning matches #into the spiderverse #spiderverse #spider-noir #peni parker #peter benjamin parker #spider-man #spiderverse fanfic #i don't care who you are #suddenly having bright colors like that would be insane #like CLEARLY he can see color given the way he reacts to the cube #there's some interesting implications in terms of like #did spider-noir's universe have color before and it doesn't now #what's the deal with that #how can his eyes see color if he's in black and white?#it's neat!#either way #here we go

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yes-i-am-happyaspie · 5 months

Note

Sicktember is the best!!! I’m so happy you made this a thing. However… I was left hungry for one particular thing. I really want to read Peter waking Tony up early on a school morning because he doesn’t feel good. Crawling into bed with him and maybe just going back to sleep. Do you know of any fics like this, or could you possibly consider one day down the road turning into a super short (few hundred words) fic??

Another mini-fic in the books. This one turned out so so utterly soft... There is no backstory. So this can be read as adopted Peter, or Peter simply spending a few nights at the tower. It's totally up to you! I hope the requesting anon finds this prompt fill and enjoys it!

You Will Never Be a Problem 869 words

Peter laid in his bed within Mr. Stark’s penthouse. It was five-forty-three. A full seventeen minutes before his alarm was set to go off. It was a school day. But as he remained still, staring at the ceiling, he wasn’t sure attending would be the best idea. His head was aching, his stomach was uneasy and despite the copious amounts of blankets he couldn’t seem to stop shivering. He rolled over onto his side, pulled the covers all the way up to his ears and squeezed his eyes closed. He could tough it out; try to rest for another fifteen minutes, then drag himself to class. He didn’t want to be an inconvenience. Although, he’d been informed from day one that he could never be such a thing.

‘You’re not a problem, Pete. You will never be a problem. I want you here.

Maybe it was the fever talking. Or maybe the words had finally sunk in. But at that moment, he believed it.

Peter slid out of bed, swiftly grabbed his outermost blanket, a soft plush throw and wound it around his shoulders. A chill ran up his spine, prompting him to pull it in a little more closely. He considered laying back down. He could ask FRIDAY to relay a message. But he was already up and Mr. Stark had said to come to him.

‘I’m here if you need anything, Buddy. I mean it. All you have to do is come to me.’

With a deep sigh, Peter dragged himself into the dimly lit hallway. He looked left, then right, trying to determine where to go. He assumed Mr. Stark was sleeping in the master bedroom. But really, it was just as likely that he was in the lab running on nothing but coffee and inspiration. He sucked in a breath and wandered toward Mr. Stark’s room. The door was cracked open just enough that if he peeked inside, he could see Mr. Stark lying on his side clutching his pillow. Soundly asleep.

For a moment Peter hesitated. He watched Mr. Stark’s chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He wondered if he should go back to bed. He could turn off his alarm and have FRIDAY rouse him up when Mr. Stark was up. But something was stopping him. Perhaps it had to do with the way Mr. Stark had promised to be there for him, no matter the time.

‘Sleep schedule? What sleep schedule? Kid, I’m available to you day or night.’

With the hand that wasn’t holding the blanket in place, he pushed the door open. He carried himself to the edge of the bed and brought his lip between his teeth. “Mr. Stark?” he whispered. There was no reply. “Mr. Stark?” he tried again, just a little louder.

A small choked snore was followed by a yawn. Mr. Stark blinked his eyes open and ran a weary hand down his face. “Pete? What are you doing, Buddy? You okay?”

Even though Mr. Stark’s tone was gentle and kind, Peter found himself awash with a whole new wave of anxiety. He shifted his weight and lowered his gaze to the floor.

“Peter?”

“I-” Peter began. He looked up, one hand making its way to his queasy stomach. “I don’t feel good. I-”

Before he could complete his thought, Mr. Stark sat up, arm outstretched. Peter clamped his mouth shut, allowing the hand to press against his forehead. He both shudders and relaxes under the touch.

“You have a fever.”

Peter nodded in blind agreement. He’d suspected as much. He ached all the way down to his bones. “I don’t want to go to school.”

“Easy. I’ll make sure you have an excuse.” There were a few beats of silence. When Peter remained unmoving at the bedside, Mr. Stark smiled softly. “What else do you need, Bud? You didn’t wake me up for a doctor’s note.”

“I just-” Peter yawned. He shuffled his feet and tiredly planted himself on the edge of the large bed. “Can I have a hug?”

A contented sigh escaped Peter’s lips as he was engulfed by Mr. Stark’s arms. His body fell limp, the warmth and counter pressure offering a temporary reprieve from the relentless chills. His eyes closed without his permission, delivering him a hair's breadth away from sleep. It was warm and comfortable, and even as Mr. Stark released him, he didn’t want it to end. So, instead of standing up and trudging back to his own bed, he pulled his feet up onto Mr. Stark’s. He let go of his own blanket and wiggled his way under the heavy warm duvet.

“Comfy?” Mr. Stark questioned, as Peter nuzzled his face against the downy pillow. He hummed in response, too tired to say anything else. He felt a hand brush through his hair and relaxed. The mattress shifted beside him. Without thought he rolled over and tucked himself against Mr. Stark’s warm body.

“You really do feel terrible, huh, Buddy,” Mr. Stark murmured.

Peter hummed, his eyes fluttering open for only a second. “Feel better with you.”

“Yeah?” Mr. Stark chuckled. He might have said more. Peter wasn’t certain. He was already drifting back to sleep.

#happyaspie mini fic #tumblr mini fic #platinic cuddling #st*rker dni #sick peter parker #peter parker #tony stark #irondad and spiderson #spider-man #iron man #marvel #mcu #irondad #sick fic #cold and flu #nondescriptive illness

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itjazzbicch · 2 years

Text

Small Confessions

Pairing: Drew McIntyre x Fem Reader

Summary: The reader, being long-time friends with Drew McIntyre and Sheamus, is hurt deeply by their fighting, trying to remind them of their friendship just to be shut down and more hurt by Sheamus, walking off before Drew can step in. So, Drew visits her at home, reminding her that they are best friends, and ends up sharing a small confession with her…

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY!) (Drinking, Swearing, Hairpulling, bit of rough sex, creampie)

Word Count: 2.2k

Tag List: @demonqueen29 @peachy-satan00 @new-zealand-chic @crowleysqueenofhell @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @thatpanpal @damnnhausen @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @linziland13 @xxx-jazz-xxx @writtingrose @cuzimacomedian @april-jeanette-wagner @starwithaheart @seeingstarks

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF:

"Drew! Sheamus!"

Why did Adam Pearce even bother anymore? It's been how long that Drew and Sheamus have been fighting non-stop, anywhere, any time.

Deep inside, it did pain me because once upon a time, we were a trio of true friends with big dreams that we all got to accomplish together. Now, this? Just constant fighting? They must've forgotten that I was still here.

"Sorry they're like this Adam," I sighed, marching over and yanking Drew by the hair, Sheamus by the ear, yelling, "Don't you two ever get sick of fighting one another?!"

Adam was watching in shock, wishing he came to me a long time ago as I clanked their heads together hard, then tossed them to the floor on their butts.

"What happened to being best friends, no matter what?" I snapped, looking between the two groaning and rubbing their heads, "Going from nothing to something together! What happened to it? Now, you two fight and bicker like little kids! Get a grip. It's already bad enough that you two almost lost your Money in The Bank spots! Just cut it out, for the love of Pete!"

"Oh, don't ya start ya stuff, Y/N!" Sheamus rose to his first, scoffing at me, "This doesn't concern you, so buzz off!"

"All I want is for us to be friends again, Sheamus," I huffed, letting out emotion, "You just expect me to toss our friendship like trash? Like, how long have we been friends?"

"That's exactly what ya need to do," Sheamus breathed, yelling at me, "It is trash!"

Sheamus's words truly broke my heart into pieces. No matter what happened between the three of us, our friendship still prevailed, and hearing him call it trash, I was defeated. The sadness in my eyes was quite obvious.

For a moment, I didn't realize on my other side that Drew was getting back up, looking even more pissed off, then Adam just had to insert himself:

"Sheamus, you-"

"No, don't." I glared at Adam, having all eyes on me, making sure I glared at Drew and Sheamus too, "I guess I'm not their friend after all. I shouldn't have bothered."

There must've been a scary look on my face because everyone stood still, watching me leave till I was out of sight and not daring to move.

They always say words are just words, but they can truly hurt. Since I wasn't booked, I gladly packed up and went home. Once I was home, that little fight left my mind, and being back home was like normal. I put up all my things, took a shower then slept.

In the morning, it was no different either. Woke up, had a cup of coffee, went to go work out, took a quick shower, started cooking some food and I heard my doorbell ring.

Lucky them, the food I had cooking was done; turning off the stove then headed over and when I opened the door, I found something I didn't expect.

Drew always had the cutest smile that you couldn't look away from, white roses in one arm and a gift bag in another, smiling at me:

"There's my best friend!"

It was so hard for me not to smile, knowing that Drew was a true friend despite his fallout with Sheamus, but I still asked:

"What's this, Drew?"

"I know ya don't want me fighting Sheamus anymore, but I was very ready to claymore him after what he said to you," He began, seeing how it hit him in the heart just like it did to me, "And it literally made me cry when you said that we're not friends anymore. So, I'm here to remind you that unlike that scumbag Sheamus, you are my friend. My best friend."

That put the brightest smile on my face, on top of my favorite flowers, needing to know what was in that bag? How could I be so heartless and deny all of that?

"Drew, you big softy," I smiled, hugging him tightly, "I didn't mean that towards you, really. I know you'll always be my friend."

"Always, Y/N," He laid his head on top of mine, swaying softly and offering, "A game's about to come on. Wanna whip something up and watch it? We can also use your gift."

"Let's do it," I smiled, taking the roses as he stepped in, "What is the gift?"

Drew always knew me well, making me laugh while heading to the kitchen island, whipping out my favorite bottle of whiskey, "Great for a game day."

"Should've known," I laughed, heading over to the window where I kept my flowers, making those gorgeous white roses right at home in a vase, taking a slow breath in to smell, hearing behind me:

"Ooh, steak!"

Turning, there was Drew at the stove, eating the steak that I had prepared in the skillet for the sandwiches I was going to make and enjoying himself.

"Can I even make the sandwiches first, Drew?!" I scolded, shooing him away from the stove, "I just worked out and need the food."

"It's good!" He protested, stealing one more piece, "I can't help it."

Shaking my head at him, I went ahead and began to make our steak and cheese sandwiches, this time he helped rather than eat it all, and got us two glasses of whiskey so we could sit at the television and turn on the football game.

Moments like these were the best. Good food, whiskey, and a very good game. Once our food was gone, we were yelling at the television like crazy, whiskey maybe influencing how loud our voices were, jumping at certain times when our team scored.

"Come on! There ain't much time left!" Drew was literally on the edge of his seat, scoffing when I said:

"I don't know if they're gonna get it!"

"Bet ya fifty bucks?" He offered, positive that they were going to score, both of us standing and I agreed:

"Bet! They're not-"

"HELL YEAH!" Drew jumped for joy as they scored, winning the game, "Where's my money?!"

"Your money?!" I played back, pushing him softly, "I don't owe you shit."

"Ah! Ah! We made a bet and-" He began and just for fun, I used the coffee table as a step stool, jumping up and also pushing it so I could DDT Drew onto the couch cushion, rolling away to laugh:

"And I bet you didn't see that coming!"

I had to hold my stomach from laughing so hard but came to a slow stop when Drew picked his head up, giving me eyes like a tiger, even while playing.

"Now, Drew-" I went to deescalate, but there was no deescalating, taking off the second Drew got to his feet.

"Why are you running, Y/N?!" He began to chase, running around the couch at first, till I started booking it to my bedroom so I could try to hide:

"Running? I'm not running!"

Damn it, he was fast and I ended up squealing super loud when he ran through and tackled me onto the bed, beginning to tickle me and then raid my pockets:

"Ya owe me fifty bucks! Kick it up!"

"Drew, stop!" I laughed even when he wasn't tickling me, "I can't breathe!"

"How ya talking then!" He made us laugh more, to the point where we weren't breathing, collapsing on my chest and slapping the bed.

"They call you a Scottish psychopath, when you're really the Scottish goofball," I breathed in deep, looking to see his messy hair and bright blue eyes connect with mine, getting that serious, psychopathic look he could get, but was still playful:

"Now, you're gonna get the psycho."

I went to gasp but was left breathless when he kissed me, so deep and beginning to press my body into the bed, not expecting this but not letting the moment be wasted, kissing him right back, holding onto his jersey when he started feeling my legs.

"This is my favorite jersey," He looked down at my clenched hand in his shirt, seeing how hard I was gripping, cocking his eyebrow when I suggested:

"Just take it off then."

"Oh yeah?" He snickered, sitting up and taking it off, slow and showing off every muscle in his arms, chest, and core, having me licking and biting at my lower lip, not paying attention till he said, "Like what you see?"

I just nodded softly, fighting the squirm in my hips, but he noticed, sending my heart racing when he put his hands on my knees, spreading my legs out, connecting hips and bringing his chest back to mine, "I can tell."

"You know that I'm a straight-forward person, Drew," I reminded him, softly grinding my hips up to his, "Where are we going to go with this?"

"You know exactly where we're going," He smiled, kissing me again, a lot more impatient and stronger, hands going right for my clothes and I helped, getting down to my panties then going after his pants, but he stood up, doing that for me.

My eyes were so fixed on his marvelous body that it caught me off guard when he yanked me by the ankle, flipping me to my stomach, really turning me on when I felt his hand in my hair.

"Don't think I forgot how you pulled me by the hair on Friday," His laugh was no good, pulling my head back and the other hand pulling my panties off, using his thigh to spread my legs, "Figured I'd return the favor."

"Don't act like you didn't like it," I joked, throwing a sexy smirk back at him, going to back my hips up, but my jaw dropped.

Kneading at the bed softly, I took a deep breath, taking in the feeling of his cock finding its way into me, the way it was splitting me with such strong friction, so warm and creating a wave of fire across my nerves when he pinned his hips to my ass, the tip of his cock as deep as possible, greeting my sweet spot.

I already knew that was the only softness I was going to get, ready to hold onto the blanket as he pulled his hips back, leaving just his tip:

"You're really gonna like it, I know that."

There was a small strain in my throat from the sharp moan jumping out, strong hand yanking my hair, pulling my entire body back onto his cock, hips thrusting hard and about putting me in two, showing me that he didn't like it slow.

Neither did I, slight tears in my eyes from the burn, but the pleasure so good that it had me in a daze already, only straining my voice more with louder moans, his pounding so strong I could feel the ricochet ripple through my body.

"I fucking love it!" I whined hard, pushing my face into the mattress to rest my neck for a moment, walls clenching hard and it was just driving him even more crazy.

"Love it, aye?" He was so proud already, laughing softly at the drool at the side of my mouth when he pulled my head back up, so out of it that I admitted:

"You know how many times I've dreamed about fucking you? Damn, right I love it."

In return, he kissed me with a passionate force, tongue swirling in when I began moaning, because his cock didn't slow for even a second, heart pounding so hard when he bit my lower lips, hand gripped on my hip and pulling back, confessing back:

"Think I haven't about you? I did kiss you first, remember?"

I nodded softly, crying out when he freed my lip, "God, Drew! Keep it like that!"

"Gonna tell me why?"

My body was shaking from how close I was, beginning to pant and it was harder to breathe his hand back in my hair again, not going to get what I wanted till I said it, not like he needed to ask anyhow because before he could say anything again, I gasped hard:

"Because I'm ab-; I'm cuming, Drew! Fuck!"

The only thing keeping me up was his hand, back bending and jerking my hips up toward him, pulling the blanket and sheets, growing weak in the knees when it all hit me, wet slick squirting out and sure making a mess of us as he kept going, groaning and swearing, but loving every moment, spanking my ass and holding on with a few more thrusts beginning to get the better of him.

"Come on, Drew," I looked back, begging due to the good feeling of his cock throbbing, closing my eyes and whining at the overstimulation, "It's just so fucking good."

"Sure the hell is," He breathed in deep, taking my wrists and keeping me pinned down, lifting our hips up just a little and pounding harder than before, having me bury my face to muffle the screams, picking up to get air and gasping at the hot feeling, walls coated in his seed, flooding in deep.

"Oh my god," My head dropped, drained but never feeling so good, slowly following along when he fixed me on the bed properly, laying on my back, huffing:

"Fuck, Y/N."

"You're telling me," I giggled faintly, looking in the corner of my eye to meet his, "Never seen this side of you and fuck."

He found it funny when my eyes rolled back and my head dropped again, not needing the words to know about our little confessions at that moment, but not leaving me hanging either:

"You can see it more if you want to."

#wrestling #wrestling imagine #wrestling fic #wrestling smut #wwe #wwe imagine #wwe fic #wwe smut #drew mcintyre #drew mcintyre x reader #drew mcintyre imagine #drew mcintyre fic #drew mcintyre smut #read and enjoy

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katerinaptrv · 3 months

Text

Babe was so overwhelmed with guilt, pain and grief for Chalie’s death that he just needed do to something or he would fall apart. It fills him with rage that in times like this his mind goes to Way, not knowing if it was because he was his best friend for ten years or if was the remaining of all the mind control he did on him.

He remembered Way always saying to go to him whenever he felt like this, maybe he manipulated his mind for it.

That enraged him further, how dare he intrude on his mourning for Charlie, but the more the thought about it, the more he found likely for his fake friend to have a part in his lovers death.

He hated Charlie from the beginning because of his twisted jealousy and possession of him. Tried to separate them both so many times. After all the lying, maniputaling and sexual assault attempt, he believed his former “friend ” capable of anything. Who would say he would not go this far to keep them apart from each other?

That gave him a new purpose, he got his jacket and went to the bar where he knew he would find him.

Seeing Way just bring up all the pain of his betrayal again, so Babe did not waste a second and punched him, throwing him and asking in rage: What did you do to Charlie? What did you do?

Way denied it of course,had the audacity to quote them as family but at this point Babe was not even listening to him. He was feeling so much, all at the same time. And punching Way felt good, felt like revenge for him, for Charlie.

He was getting ready to throw another blow at him when someone stopped it and threw him away from Way. Babe's eyes go looking for the person in disbelief and was shocked to find Pete, now hiding Way behind him, standing in front of him protectively.

- WTF, Pete, what are you doing? He asks enraged.

- He said he did not do it, if you want to continue to interrogate him use your words.

- Are you on his side? What the fuck is this? He deserves every punch I throw at him!!

- I don't care if you think he deserves it, I am not letting you touch him again.

Babe was beside himself after this, he did not want to fight with Pete, they needed him as an ally to take Tony out. He honestly did not have the emotional capacity to deal with whatever is happening here right now so he gives them both a disgusted look and turns back and leaves.

The second Babe goes and the danger is gone Pete turns to Way, getting close to him and gently helping him up.

- Are you okay? Did you want me to help you get home?

- I'm fine, thank you.

- I am not going to let anyone hurt you on my watch Way.

Pete says that giving one of his very serious looks that he always seems to give Way since they met. He always seemed to be there for Way lately, just quietly sit with him drinking, helping his drunken ass get home, listening to his laments without judging him or even protecting him from Babe's rage apparently.

Way could not fathom why he acted like this but he was thankful for it.

NA: Here it is, I have to write it, it would not leave my mind. Just as a disclaimer I am not a Way defender and fully support and enjoy Babe punching him now or in the future. But I could totally see this happening if Pete was there at the moment. I tried to portray Babe's feelings and mental state at the moment but it was hard. I did not dwell on Way's POV because I can't understand him at all but I do think he is too self absorbed to realize Pete's feelings for him. I probably revise this and post it on ao3 later.

#pit babe the series #peteway

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bratshaws · 11 months

Text

through the hourglass 151. brb x oc

a/n: I think these two just help me when i have shit days...because today was kinda rough lol (reblogs and comments are super encouraged <3)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: JUST FLUFF!!!

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

/100/101/102/103/104/105/106/107/108/109/110/111/112/113/114/115/116/117/118/119/120/121/122/123/124/125/126/127/128/129/130/131/132/133/134/135/136/137/138/139/140/141/142/143/144/145/146/147

/148/149/150

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

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Rooster checked his phone a few times as he was on his break, nothing new from Bea with the exception she was out with her mother and Nicole. She appeared relaxed in her messages so it was very possible that Claudia had no idea of what was going on yet, which was good…because across from him, neither did Mav.

His uncle shakes the ketchup packet a bit before ripping it open and just smearing it on top of the slice of pizza. Rooster looked downright disgusted and had no qualms in hiding how much, especially his nostrils were curled up in horror. Maverick looked up at his nephew and laughed, ‘Don’t clock it till you try it.”

“Oh,I’m clocking it.” he says, “That’s horrendous. Thank God Bea isn’t here to see that, her Italian ancestors would drag you to the grave.”

Pete chuckles while wiping his hands and mouth with a napkin, tossing the used ball to the side and leaning back on his seat to smile at Rooster, “I’ll live I think, how’s she by the way?”

“She’s good.” he says as he places the phone aside and takes a bite of his burger, waiting until he swallowed to continue speaking, “She’s out with her mom and Nikki, doing chores and such.”

“And how’s Nikki?”

“She’s great.” he says fondly, grabbing his phone to open the gallery until he found what he was looking for, “She had a lot of fun back in Virginia,” the picture he shows Mav is one of Nikki on Beatrice’s arms, her tiny arm stretched to grab a few snowflakes while her mother just smiled towards Bradley with her cheeks flushed red.

Maverick just grins, taking another bite of that abomination before speaking again, “I’m glad you guys had fun. Bea getting used to the cold now?”

“A little.” Bradley chuckles, “She is a San Diego girl through and through, she won’t get used to the cold that easily.” he had to admit that it was much better than the first time, she wasn’t shaking every now and again whenever they walked out on the street.

He wondered if the pregnancy had something to do with that.

“I know I hated it.” Mav says, “When I went to visit you guys, whew, what a nightmare. A cold,painful nightmare…when we fell down,back during the mission, do you know how much I hated lying down on the snow?”

“We were being stealthy.”

“Yes and I hated it. One more reason to get the hell out of that place.” both men laughed at that, before Maverick licked his lips and looked to the side with a subtle shake of his head. He sighs, crossing his arms as he looked over at Rooster,”You know something I just,” he gestures to his head, “Couldn’t stop thinking about?”

“What?”

“The fact Nikki is six months old already.” he corrects himself, “Wait, seven, she just turned seven. Soon enough she’ll be having her one year birthday.”

“And I’ll be forty.”

“You make it sound like it’s the end of the world or something,Rooster.”

“I just want to have joints when she gets older,I want to be able to play with her after all.”

Maverick hums with a chuckle, shaking his head again and sipping on his soda. He could see there was something different about Rooster, something more than the obvious fact he’ll reach forty - but to him he still looked like he was in his twenties, maybe because his brain wasn’t used on seeing older Brad yet - that made him smile every now and again. He also noticed how the other pilots looked over at him, punched his shoulder or even hugged him.

So he had to think, what exactly happened in Virginia for this sudden secretive celebration? Because those kids could play it off like he’s too old to notice certain things but he’s not that old. He wouldn’t be where he was if he wasn’t sharp eyed enough to see it.

He looks back to where he last saw Rooster talking to Phoenix and Payback, then turns his eyes back to his nephew, “So,did the kids have a good time in Virginia? I know Fanboy kept complaining about the cold and everything.”

“Of course he will.” Rooster licks his thumb clean of any sauce, then shrugs, “He’s a little baby. Can’t handle a bit of cold. I mean,come on.”

“Bea couldn’t either. Do you call her a baby too?”

“Sometimes but I call it with love.” he smiles, “Because she’s my wife.”

Maverick narrowed his eyes, “And…” he shrugs while pursing his lips, “Anything else happened there?” Rooster slows his chewing to give his uncle a confused look, arching his brow as Pete just stares at him, “I don’t know, they seemed really happy to talk to you.”

Quick slap the most neutral look on your face or else he’ll know.

Rooster continues chewing, using the excuse that he took too big of a bite to answer him, slowly making sure he could come up with something that could cut Mav’s curiosity short. Fuck, he sometimes wished his godfather wasn’t so sharp eyed because of course he knew something was off. “Just had fun, we drank and played games. We decided to do that since there’s a huge chance of deployment this month.” he is proud of how easily those words came out and how he didn’t choke on his own spit - also he avoided Mav’s eyes by fixing the wrapper on his burger instead.

“Ah,huh. Well…that’s all?”

“Yeah that’s all.”

“....hmmm.”

“What? What’s with the ‘hmms?”

“It just…something feels different.” Jesus not again, “While I do understand celebrating with your team before you guys leave the country again, I just think it’s funny how they kept hugging and clapping you on the back,Rooster.”

“They are just happy we had booze there.” he adds quickly, shoving what was left of his lunch into his mouth, “That’s all that was Mav.” he couldn’t keep those thoughts inside Pete’s head, he had to use a diversion “Oh, by the way, how was your New Year’s? I know you spent with Penny and Amelia.”

“Not gonna lie,Rooster. I’m still getting used to the whole,” he moves his hand in a circle, “Family time,I spent a long time just not celebrating anything and I’m glad to have Penny,I truly am. She’s…amazing.” Bradley smirks over his uncle’s words, he had never seen Pete like that and he liked that he found someone who truly cared about him, genuinely.

He takes the final sip of his soda and leans back on his chair, “So…what are the plans then?”

“Plans?” his nephew taps his own wedding band with that boyish smirk and Pete laughed, shaking his head, “Oh no, no, no, we talked about that already. We decided that we won’t think about that for five years. If we are still interested in each other by then…well…maybe so.”

“But you’d ring her up.”

“Of course I would.” he smiles, bashfully, “But not now,Rooster.”

Bradley was more than happy to see his uncle actually enjoying his life. He was a bachelor for…a long time, he couldn’t say when he saw Pete with a woman for longer than a few months. His mom used to say that he had this…fling, with a blonde girl when he was really young but they never worked out.

He knew his parents would probably make fun of Mav just like he was. Because he cared, obviously.

He looks down at his phone just in time to see a message from Beatrice.

Call?

He tried not to panic, because she rarely did that, but he played it off with a smile, “Sorry Mav,I-”

“Beatrice,I know,I know Romeo.” he flaps his hand at Rooster, “Go on, tell her hi for me, will ya?”

“Sure thing.”

Rooster pushes himself away from the table, already finding Bea’s contact and bringing it to his ear, double checking if he was far away enough. It doesn’t take too long for her to answer and he waits to hear her voice to check how she was feeling. “Roos?” okay, she sounded fine so far, so he just relaxed a little bit.

He plays with his wedding band as he holds the phone between his cheek and shoulder, “Hi,gorgeous. How’s the day going?”

“Um…good!I uh,I had to get home early.”

He stops playing with his ring to frown at nothing, holding the phone instead, “Everything okay?”

“I felt really sick at the um, seafood aisle.” she whispers and he can hear her pouring something in a glass, “I had to hold it in the best I could so I didn’t throw up everywhere, it’d be awful…and my mom would be suspicious.”

“Did you manage to get home safely?”

“Yeah,I called for Shells.I told my mom they needed help at the bar and she came to my rescue. She didn’t mind since she was just buying minimal stuff, yknow…but ugh, it’s really bad.”

“Are you still feeling sick?”

She groans, her feet slapping on the floor as she walks away and Nicole’s babbling gets louder, “A little. I kinda want to lie down and don’t move…Roos what if I can’t go to work? Penny will be suspicious,I never get sick!”

“Well, you did hurt your ankle-”

“Yeah but that wasn’t caused by–” she pauses “I mean f-fair.But…I…I feel so blegh,I feel like my stomach weighs a hundred pounds and at the same time I want to eat fried ravioli??? Nikki’s was never like this??”

Rooster smiles, looking over his shoulder back to where Mav was and seeing his uncle was busy with his phone as well, so he whispered back to Beatrice, “Baby you have…two little beans inside of you.” he says, “I think it’ll be confusing even if it’s still early.”

“I guess so…ugh,Roos. I am okay though,I have some water and I might watch The Nanny while I’m still able to keep whatever is inside of me….inside of me.”

“I know,baby.”

“I’ll be fine…it’s just intense right now.”

“I know. If you want I can call Penny and say you aren’t feeling good. She’ll understand.” she makes a sad little noise and he laughs, “You know that she will, she is a mom. She knows that sometimes…you just don’t feel good.” not because Penny was ever pregnant with twins - that he knows of - but she knew how life was when you had kids.

Beatrice takes a while to reply, eventually doing so with a soft sigh and followed by a sweet and soft ‘fine’ as she gets comfortable. Fran Drescher’s unique laugh echoing in the background and the adorable sound of Nicole laughing along was almost too much for him to bear, “...do you want me to call Penny?”

“Hmmm…No…I’ll wait a few more minutes, if I don’t feel good in um,one hour,I’ll call her.”

“Okay,” he looks down at his watch, “Gorgeous,I gotta go…see you soon,okay?”

“Okay,Roos.I love you.”

“And I love you.” he smirks, “See you in a few.”

He gets home only to find the house weirdly silent, the dogs weren’t there to greet him and every light was off. He stood by the door, keys in one hand and the fried raviolis in the other, furrowing his brows as he slowly closes it once he steps inside.

The keys tinkle as he hangs them and he keeps on stepping forward, “Bea?” he calls, placing the fried good on the kitchen table and looking around one more time. “Baby?” he tries to not panic, he genuinely does, once he goes up the stairs to their bedroom.

He checks Nicole’s room only to see that the baby isn’t there and neither are the dogs. He inhales shakily, speeding his step towards the partially open door. He slowly pries it open, it squeaks vagarously almost in complaint as the room slowly comes into view.

Rooster closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh in relief when he sees Beatrice with Nicole on her chest, both of them on the bed and the dogs sleeping around it. “Oh,thank God.” he whispers and it’s enough for Eleanor to lift her head and perk her pointy ears up.

She’s the first one to stand, slowly trotting towards him with her curly tail wagging as she greets him. “Hey girl.” he whispers, “You guys are taking care of my angels? Hm?’ he scratches her under the chin to look around the room.

Something smells…fresh, like minty fresh.

He turns his head towards the bathroom where he could see the cleaning products still inside and then ‘ah’ in recognition. He makes his way to the bed, smiling as he watches Beatrice and Nicole sleep so soundly, feeling almost bad when the mattress creaks under his weight, “Shit.”

Beatrice’s brows furrow but her eyes remain closed, “Roos?”

“It’s me,gorgeous.”

“...I…” she furrows her brows, bringing Nicole closer to her chest, “I fell asleep with Nikki.”

“I can see it.” he settles down on the edge of the bed, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear and smiling when she just closes her eyes again and nuzzles his palm, “Are you feeling better?”

“I threw up.” she mutters with her eyes closed but arching her eyebrows, pointing to the bathroom, “Then I cleaned the toilet and the cleaning supplies made me sick again, so I washed my hands and grabbed Nikki and we lied here…and now…you are here too and I…feel bleh.”

“Did you call Penny?”

She peeks one eye open, he could see she was hesitant in doing so, “....I don’t…maybe I’ll feel better in a few minutes.”

“Baby you have to work in one hour and a half.” he counters, “Are you sure?”

Was she?

Beatrice meets those warm brown eyes and sighs, offering her palm to him, “Gimme my phone?” he does immediately, grabbing a slowly waking Nicole from her chest so she could sit on the bed while rubbing her forehead. She looks back at him as he nuzzles Nicole, the little baby finally waking up and immediately smiling at Rooster, who in turn smiles right back.

Beatrice waits for a few seconds, then blinks when the phone picks up, “Penny speaking.”

“Penny!Hi,it’s Bea,um,I know it’s…a bit soon but I was wondering if I could have the night off tonight? I’m not feeling the greatest.”

“The night off?” Penny takes a while to reply, “...Bea,I…well, I don’t know if that will be possible because Jessie asked to take the night off too.”

“What?”

“Family member passed away, I didn’t ask too much, the girl is young and she doesn’t need the pressure.” and Beatrice wanted to shrink into a hole because she couldn’t compare her issues with Jessie’s right now “...what are you feeling?”

‘Just…a stomach bug, some nausea.” she meets Rooster’s eyes, her husband just keeps a neutral façade for now, “Been having issues the whole day.”

“...listen, if you can come tonight I can set you up with some meds. I really need you Bea. Shells thinks the new guys are coming here, from the other bar.”

“What? Why?”

“Scope the territory, pretty much…listen, if you need to go home earlier, if you feel really bad, you can go…but I really need the help. I truly do.”

Beatrice sighed, clenching her eyes as she gritted her teeth, she would never leave Penny like that if she needed the help, “I…fine.Okay,yeah,I’ll go.”

“Good,see you in a bit then? And Bea…thank you.”

“You are- yeah, no worries Penny. S-See you.” she hangs up the call and hits the back of her head against the headboard, looking back at Rooster who doesn’t look pleased by the outcome, “She needs me tonight. A relative of Jessie passed, she had to take the night off. But she said if I feel too bad I can leave early.”

Rooster clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth before kissing Nicole, “Well,” he begins, “Let’s hope you get better by then.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 9 days

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<<Previous Chapter <<

**Masterlist**

>>Next Chapter>>

Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: Your screams of pain sound all too familiar to the First Mate.

A/N: This chapter is short and sweet but I think it nicely moves yours and Izzy's dynamic in a new direction.

Content Warning: mentions of injuries, trauma, blood, self-harm and angst. I think that's everything. This series is 18+, so minors dni. Go away (politely).

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"Are you okay now, Izzy?"

Gods, what a question to be asking him, the First Mate thought bitterly, as he failed to meet you concerned gaze, all the while sitting stoically in a chair beside your bed. You had dared reach for his hand only moments prior, but that had merely resulted in the silver-haired pirate flinching away from your touch.

It hurt to see him so closed off and unreachable, as he paid mind to whatever unpleasant thoughts were undoubtedly running through his head. A never-ending torment that sneered venomous poision and jeered at how he had once again letting you down.

He was a fucking coward, the First Mate concluded, as his attention trailed from the sight of his bitten down nails, towards the vivid world beyond the window. Despite the butter yellow warmth, Izzy felt chilled to the bone. The cold reminiscent of his time in the row boat, when he had searched for the overboard body of Pete, below the tumultuous, midnight blue waves.

A shiver ran through him, shaking up his already fragile insides. Gods, his constitution felt gossamer thin. The unshakeable Israel Hands, reduced to a snivelling, faint-hearted...twat, all because he could not steel his nerve long enough to be unaffected by your screams. Oh, how you had begged him to stop the doctor. The heartbreaking deals you had been willing to make in those tortuous moments. The deals with the devil, you had bargained in return for your freedom from the pain you had endured- all equally distressing for the poor pirate. The sight of blood and a limb at risk had been too much for Izzy to handle. Too similar to his own fate upon the Revenge, all those many moons ago.

His name had fallen so saccharine sweet and full of longing from your chapped lips, while a contrasting frown marred your enviable features, as the First Mate had abruptly fled from the room but even your desperate calls for his return were admittedly, not enough to drown out the ghosts of long before. The smell of rotting flesh, of gunshots wounds and putrid blood, had haunted him all down the hallway, as he put as much distance between himself and you.

Despite his wanting to be by your side, the overwhelming recollection of his own suffering had become too much for the First Mate to handle alone. Surprisingly, he had found solace from those he often held in contempt. The crew of the Revenge had welcomed him with open arms and even softer reassurances. He hated it. Loathing their pitiful gazes and attempts to console his traumatised mind.

It had to be some kind of sick joke. You were the one who needed comfort. Needed soothing words to inspire strength. He wondered, in his shameful absence, who had taken his place to hold you hand. Both Captains had be present to witness his act of cowardice but they were too busy holding your writhing body in place. Come to mention it, he had no laid eyes upon Buttons, when the rest of the crew had come to his aid. Had the mystic been by your side?

"Izzy, please speak to me." you implored, anticipating your request to be met with further silence, but the pirate surprised you this time.

"I didn't mean to leave you again. Gods, I'm..." he could not even finish his apology. The words felt so hollow, so insincere in the wake of his cowardice. How many more times was he to utter 'I'm sorry' to you? How many more times would you forgive him until you reached your limit and showed him the door? Or perhaps you would always accept his regretful acknowledgement, and he would abuse such a kindness time and time again, like the detestable creature he was. Never knowing when to stop and only ever pushing at everyone's boundaries until they snapped and showed him no mercy. What would such a punishment look like at your hand, the pirate wondered.

He was entitled to your wrath and yet, why the fuck were you being so nice to him? Talking calmly and handing him a cloth to wipe his tears. Wait, when had he started crying? Salt water tracked down the weary man's face, as you pressed a torn piece of rag into his hand, urging him to wipe away the evidence of sorrow. "I know." you said with such simplicity and ease, conveying all your understanding and acceptance so concisely in two singular words. Your tone completely devoid of any judgement or resentment.

The look of innocent consolation sent an involuntary flare of anger through the silver-haired pirate, igniting his quick fire rage in an instant. "Don't fucking agree with me." his hissed, eyes ablaze with disgust. Not for you. No, the abhorrance was not really directed towards you. Izzy was digusted with his own actions but old habits died hard. Lashing out at the nearest person, whether by tongue or by sword, was second nature to him. "Don't...don't be so fucking nice all the time. Just for once, would you shout at me? Push me away. Be selfish, be-be angry! Scream at me. Fucks sake, hurt me even. Treat me how I fucking deserve to be treated!" he implored you, breathless at his own admission. Chest rising and falling in rapid succession.

He craved the pain. The familiar sting of a slap or a bite- whichever you were willing to provide. It was a language he spoke well. Violence spoke all of the words he coukd not voice. A punch, a kick, a hand around his throat. Izzy knew what they represented, he understood their deeper meaning. You and that Stede fucking Bonnet, with all your 'talking it through as a crew' bullshit. That was the true enigma for the First Mate. Emotions were battled channelled through actions, rather than whatever drivel the Gentleman Pirate could ever babble on about.

Except, there was no retaliation on your part. No breaking him into submission. Just a watery gaze and a trembling lips at his confession. Dual hearts broke in succession.

You anguish derived from the pirate's self-hatred. Did he truly believe he was only worthy of such brutality? You detested those who had come before you, cursing every reprobate whom had dared enforce the darkness, that stoked Izzy's requirement for punishment. To add insult to injury, he longed for such cruelty to be delivered by your own hands. As if you could ever dare lay a finger upon his persons, that was anything other than a gentle caress or a squeeze of a hand. You may have been a pirate but never would anyone envisage such savagery from you. Your stomach turned at the mere thought of harming your beloved. "But you told me off for giving you a hug."

The sight of you so sad, made the ache in Izzy's chest double to the point of agony. Surely sorrow of such a magnitude would break through his ribcage and spill onto his obsidian black shirt? Whatever darkness had dwelled within him dissipated like mist upon the rolling ocean. Shoulders slumped forwards, as the First Mate reached forward, using the cloth you had handed him to wipe your own face. He could have wept when you leaned into his touch. Even after begging you to treat him like the dog he was, you still responded with a level of compassion, that completely flummoxed the pirate. "Why're you so bloody kind?" he whispered, truly wanting you to answer him.

Then, in that same sweet voice, you responded with a heartfelt truth. Five mere words that Izzy wished to have tattooed upon his body, across his heart. "You inspire it in me."

And with that, the First Mate vacated his chair and gathered you in his arms, mindful of your injured arm. Cradling you to his chest, he kept you close, savouring your warmth and softness- such a contrast to him own gruff and jaded exterior. "You stupid, wonderful, infuriating..." the sweet nothings continued, as he pressed a rough, chaste kiss to your forehead. The first of many, you hoped.

=============================

A/N: I hope you liked this chapter. Genuine curiosity, what would you like to happen next?

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thewatercolours · 3 months

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King Quest Ficlet: "Always on Hand"

Note: This is an unfinished scene. I ran out of steam, and summarized how it would finish at the end.

After taking the throne, Graham found fewer opportunities to visit the old Llewdor homestead. He had to grasp such chances firmly by the scruffs. If he did not, other needs would press on his time and make it vanish. Then one evening he would have a nightcap that tasted just too much like the golden bitter his mother and Madeline used to brew and sell to the local tavern, just to keep bread on the table. Or he would find himself strolling in the gazebo courtyard, and realize he could no longer picture the ivy back home – only that he had noticed the differences when he first arrived. And the longing to tread roads that knew his boots would set in, stronger and stronger, until he had to go.

The first time, Royal Guard Number One took an entire week just plotting the trip out. He marked maps in red ink. He arranged for enough provisions to equip a polar expedition. Amaya was commissioned to outfit half a dozen guards with new weaponry. (“Can we even afford this?” “Your safety is our priority, sire.” “But we can’t even pay to have the castle roof patched!” “It already needs patching. You don’t, and we’d like to keep it that way.”) The whole trip was pushed back by a month just for preparation time.

Graham bit his tongue.

The guards made quite the sight at the farmhouse, posting themselves on either side of the ladder that led up to the loft which had been Graham’s childhood bedroom, ramrod stiff. Guard Number Three went through a phase where she taste-tested every food Rosie served up, because it “wasn’t prepared in the royal kitchens. And according to the handbook, we are to assume it is, (sniff, sniff,) suspect.”

Madeline and Ginger tried to put a brave face on it and crack all the inside jokes despite the outsiders, but it wasn’t the same. Especially with the running commentary Guards Number One and Two kept up when they thought the family was not listening. “The noses on this family, though. I’d assumed the king’s nose was some kind of… exception.”

Rosie took to setting tea for the guards on the lawn, just so she could get some space alone with the family, and so that private conversations did not have to be whispered. “I’m racking my brain,” she told Graham in an undertone as they watched the guards through the diamond-paned window, “whether there’s some sightseeing I could suggest for them. You know, so they’d, um, give us an afternoon off. But darned if I can think of any sights round here.”

Ginger stroked her chin. “Maybe we could take them round to the ol’ griffin cave down by the river, and we could be really loud so it would wake up. And while they’re distracted by the griffin, we could slip off and -”

“Ginger!”

“Just saying, they’ve got two swords apiece. They’d be fine.”

But Rosie put her foot down.

Three or four years into his reign, Graham had to put own foot down. “No guards,” he said firmly the day before he was due to set out for Llewdor. “None.”

Number One crossed his arms sternly. “Out of the question. You are-”

“ - perfectly fine traveling on my own,” Graham all but snapped, crossing own arms as though in mirror image. “You know I made my way to the tournament here completely alone, right? You know I recovered the three treasures alone, right? And you take up half the house when you’re there. You eat my mom and sisters out of house and home!”

“But sire –“

“For Pete’s sake, Number One! Putting a crown on my head didn’t turn me into china!”

“You were literally –“ The captain caught himself, then seemed to think better of it. “- literally kidnapped from Daventry Square not so long ago.”

He had something of a point. But, “That was a few years ago! I’ve leveled up since then. And I’ve worked hard to move on from all of that. It seems to me part of that is having some confidence that nothing of the kind’s going to happen again.” Graham stopped to catch his breath. “Look, I’ll compromise. I’ll take the main roads, and stay at inns where I can, and leave letters for the landlords to forward on to you. Zards, I’ll tie straps onto a cage of homing pigeons and wear it like a backpack, if that’s what it takes to get you off my back. Um, sorry,” he hastily corrected himself, feeling Number One’s glare even through his helmet. “I meant, if that’s what it takes to reassure you. Ten to one the magic mirror’s going to show what I’m up to the whole time anyway. Come on!” Graham summoned as charming a smile as he could in his frustrated state. “Meet me in the middle?”

Number One considered. “I might meet you at the 13.5% point. There’s a defensible-ish old guard house there, and it’s not that far from Daventry, and –“

“Not what I meant.”

To make short a long story, it took some haggling, but eventually Graham rode alone once again. Only Triumph heard his highway songs. There was no warm but careful politeness when his family opened the door. On the contrary, they tackled him. Fireside chats lasted into the wee hours, with no need to respect anyone’s carefully planned night patrol hours.

As the ancient grandfather clock chimed 2 o’clock, Madeline processed in from the kitchen with a steaming pan. “Anyone for seconds on hermit cookies? I’d just give them another couple of minutes - ” she said, even as her brother swiped one.

“Aaagh!” screamed Graham, dropping the cookie into the depths of the ancient sofa, and sucking his fingertips. “Zards-zards-zards!”

“Serve you right!” Ginger chuckled, bouncing Baby Jimmy on her hip. “You know that’s how Anisette lost one of her fingers in Puerto Pollo, right? Kind of.”

Graham fished for the cookie amongst the cushions. “Can you imagine if my guards were here?”

Ginger rolled her eyes. “Can I ever. Full blown emergency mode. That second guard would probably swan dive head first into the sofa, like you’d dropped your crown into the lake, or something. If you weren’t forbidden to eat it because it was more than one second.”

“You’re probably thinking of Number Three, not Number Two.” Graham gave up the search and reached for another cookie, using his shirt cuff as an oven mitt. “Matt would be more likely to

OK, this ficlet won’t resolve itself, and if I don’t do something soon, I’ll lose the drive to post it all together. So, in the spirit of that bullet points post, the general vision went like so:

Graham complains about the guards to his family but over the course of the scene actually describes some of the things he loves about them without knowing it.

Another quick scene takes places a few years later, when Valanice is preparing to move into the castle, and Graham’s mom and Madeline come to help with prep for the wedding and get to know her a bit. They end up having to work with the guards, who are surface level annoying but actually click really well with them, as we see through little hints.

Number One and Rosie get a one-on-one scene together. Though it’s never stated, it’s conveyed over the course of the scene that they begin to understand that in some respects, their relationships with Graham are similar, and that the other has a good deal more to them than meets the eye.

Montage, featuring the guards intersecting with Graham’s life. Adventures. Daily doings. Alexander’s kidnapping and disappearance. The guards are there, supporting, protecting, sometimes being doofuses but always reliably there.

Graham takes Valanice and Rosella to Llewdor for the first time. And the visit is awesome and everything but… at the end, Rosie says carefully, “Graham I haven’t seen your captain – or any of your guards – since you and Valanice got married. I was wondering, do you want to… bring them along next time?”

And Graham heartily agrees.

Cheesy! Corny! But soft one-shots is the name of the game.

#king's quest #kings quest #king graham #my writing

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mayhem24-7forever · 2 years

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World War Mitchell - Time Is Running Out Part Two

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Mitchell!Reader Oneshot

~ Part One ~

After her father Maverick finds out about her and Jake's relationship, things spin out of control and it may be up to Jake to fix it

Author’s Note: Firstly, I don’t want minors reading any of my fics, even if they are SFW so this one is especially off limits! I deserve a safe place to express myself so please respect my boundaries. Sorry this took so long! I have one more part planned but it’s probably going to be a while before i can get it done so sorry about that! Thank you to @blue-aconite for beta reading. Dividers by @jbarneswilson

Content Warnings: angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, family in-fighting, forbidden love, discussions of/references to death/loss, fluff, smut, stripteasing, motorboating (low key), suggestive comments/jokes, oral sex (male receiving), p in v sex

Maverick had never wanted to be the type of officer to actually have an office on base, in fact he had spent the last thirty-odd years of his career trying to ensure it. But after such a successful mission taking out the uranium processing plant, even Ice himself couldn’t have stopped them from promoting him to Rear Admiral, and unfortunately he was no longer around to even try. The pay was better and he had been able to cut a pretty good deal with Cyclone allowing him to continue flying but it did come with more responsibility. Cyclone had put him directly in charge of the group of aviators who had been called back to Top Gun, the higher ups deciding to make them a permanent team after the success of the uranium plant bombing. Now, Rear Admiral Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell was in charge of an elite squadron of the best pilots in the Navy, overseeing them as they were given the kind of top-secret and dangerous missions that he would have killed to fly when he was younger. He knew he was getting older because now when he looked at the briefing files for the missions, it wasn't excitement or jealousy that he felt, it was pure concern for the team he had come to see as a family. Or had come to see most of them as a family.

Lieutenant Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was the one and only exception, although it was only recently that he had fallen from the graces of Mav’s found family, due to the notable fact that he had been secretly dating Mav’s daughter Y/N for a month. This was a fact that had come to light a week ago when Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw had caught the pair at the Hard Deck at three in the morning doing god knows what. After tearing him a new one and screaming at him for so long that Warlock had to intervene, he had decided to make Hangman’s life at work a living hell. Thus began the endless parade of useless, menial, demeaning, and exhaustive assignments.

First, he had Hangman scrub the squadron’s jets until they shined. Next was making him move a large pile of sandbags from one side of a hanger to another before ‘randomly’ deciding that he liked them back in their original spot. Then deep cleaning the mess hall and the kitchens, the bathrooms, the locker rooms. Again and again, Mav came up with increasingly ridiculous punishments that kept Hangman too busy to even consider going off base to see Y/N. The cherry on top of it all was that whenever he passed Hangman, he ordered him to do twenty pushups, no matter what task he was in the middle of or how many times in a row Mav decided to walk by. Overall, Mav was pretty pleased with himself and was in a very good mood as he sat in his office looking over some paperwork when the door burst open. He dropped his papers and looked up, ready to yell at whoever had barged in without knocking when he was met with the enraged face of his daughter. His civilian daughter who was not supposed to be on base.

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing he-” he began but she cut him off, slamming the door behind her as she stormed to his desk.

“No! What the hell are you doing? Seriously!” she yelled angrily. “Making Jake alphabetize your files was bad enough but making him snake the shower drains in the locker rooms? Twice? And the pushups? That’s ridiculous! The extra work assignments have to stop, you’ve made your point.”

Mav took a deep breath before answering in the most professional and official capacity he could manage. “The work I’m giving Lieutenant Seresin is integral to keeping this base running.”

“You’re making him hand scrub an entire hanger’s floor… it’s fucking concrete!” she screamed. “It’s fucking ridiculous bullshit and you know it! At this point I wouldn’t be surprised if you ordered him to mop up the rain on the tarmac!”

“That’s not a bad idea…” Mav muttered.

“Ugh! You’ve been keeping him so busy I haven’t seen him in a week!” she spat.

“Maybe you two should have thought of that before you went sneaking around my back and lying to me for a month.” he replied, leaning forwards to smack his desk for emphasis. “A month, Y/N.”

“Did you really think that I burned my neck with a curling iron that many times in a row?” she asked incredulously. “You of all people should know what a hickey looks like, you’ve probably given them to every woman within a five mile radius of every base you’ve ever been stationed at.”

“That is a low blow and you know it.” Mav shot back. “But yes, I really thought they were burns because I believed what my daughter told me and had no reason to think that she would ever lie to me!”

“This has gone on long enough, call Jake in here right now.” she demanded.

“No.” Mav replied firmly. “I have work to do and so does he.”

“Fine!” she said before plopping down in the chair across the desk from him and crossing her arms. “I’m not leaving this chair until you call him in here so the three of us can talk about this like mature adults.”

“Then why aren’t you acting like a mature adult?” he questioned.

“Because you aren’t and I never give in first.” she replied.

Mav stared at his daughter, both waiting for the other to even blink, and he was the first to give in with a heavy sigh.

“How did you even get in here?” he asked and she smirked, clearly proud of herself, which was never a good look to see on a Mitchell.

“I bothered Cyclone at the Hard Deck until he gave me permission to come on base.” she answered and Mav sighed again as he put his head in his hands.

“God, sometimes you are too much like me.” he muttered, deeply regretting every single time he had ever had sex without protection.

“Call him in here or this office is becoming my permanent residence and I promise you I will not be a good roommate.” she said firmly.

“Oh for fucks sake!” Mav said, throwing up his hands. “Fine!”

He reached over and snatched the phone off the hook, punching the numbers in angrily. He held it to his ear and met his daughter’s intense gaze, waiting for the line to stop ringing.

“Warrant Officer Coleman, Hanger 5.” said a voice at the other end of the line.

“Hondo, it’s Mav. Send Hangman to my office…” he said before pausing for a moment and adding “and Rooster. Tell them to hurry.”

His daughter’s face scrunched in confusion and suspicion and he smirked as he thanked Hondo and hung up the phone.

“Why Brad too?” she asked.

“I’m not gonna be outnumbered on this, I need back-up.” he replied and she rolled her eyes. “Two against two is a fair argument.”

Sinking down into her chair further and keeping her arms crossed, she lifted up her legs and planted them on top of her father’s desk, knocking over his name plate and a mug full of pens (which was coincidentally a “World’s #1 Dad!” mug she had gotten him for father’s day when she was ten). Mav sighed and began picking the pens back up, putting all the desk items near her feet onto a further part of the desk so she wouldn’t knock them over too. After the area around her feet had been cleared, he went right back to his paperwork, occasionally making notes with a red pen as he pointedly ignored his daughter’s presence.

As they waited for Bradley and Jake to arrive, her mind wandered to the latter and how sweet and understanding he had been in the last week. When they were first discovered, he called her immediately after Mav was done screaming at him to warn her that Mav would likely be heading for her next. Even after being berated for more than an hour straight and humiliated in front of his entire team, the first thing on his mind was her. He waited in his car across the street from her house until Mav left and then headed inside to hold her as she cried. It was rare for her and her father to fight, but the few times that it did happen, it was always very intense and usually left one or both of them in tears. As he entered the house, he found her crumpled on the floor of the living room sobbing and swept her into his arms, carrying her to bed.

He had held her all night long, assuring her that he wasn’t going anywhere and that he was going to do whatever it took to win Mav over. It had taken a long time but she was finally able to fall asleep in his arms, exhausted from sobbing. He had to leave early in the morning to make it to base in time for morning revelry but he left her with a kiss on her forehead and a love note on her nightstand. From the second he arrived on base, he had been given task after exhausting task by an angry Mav and yet through it all, he texted her as much as possible. He was kept so busy that he had no time to come over but he called her every night before bed. He never complained or had an attitude or blamed her for her father’s actions, he was always sweet and reassured that nothing was going to chase him away from her.

After a week of it, she had had enough and resolved to take things into her own hands since her dad didn’t seem to be letting up on Jake at all. She cornered Cyclone at the Hard Deck and pestered him until he granted her a pass to visit the base, the Admiral escorting her to Mav’s office before hightailing it out of there. Now that she was seated in his office, she was actually quite proud of herself. A knock at the door roused her from her thoughts and she put her feet down and spun around in the chair as Mav called for them to enter.

First came Bradley, looking rather pleased with himself but she jumped up and pushed him aside to see Jake enter. He looked exhausted and sweaty, his flight suit scuffed and dirty with the arms rolled up as he had just come from scrubbing the floor of the hanger. Despite looking like he was dead tired, he smiled when he saw her and she threw her arms around him, hugging her boyfriend for the first time in a week.

“Baby?” he asked quietly into her ear as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer. “What are you doing here? How did you get on base?”

“It’s a long story but I’m going to fix this.” she replied before pulling backwards to look up at him.

With one hand on his cheek, she pushed aside a strand of blonde hair and she tried not to cry as she looked into his green eyes, dark bags below them from long hours of manual labor.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Mav said as he pulled them apart angrily. “You wanted to talk? So talk.”

“I’m not a child, I’m a grown adult and I can make my own decisions about who to date. And using your power as an Admiral to punish Jake for this is an abuse of power and absolutely ridiculous.” she scolded her father and both Bradley and Jake shifted uncomfortably in the tension.

“I think-” Bradley began but she cut him off.

“Shut up Bradley.” she said with barely a glance in his direction as she kept her angry glare trained on her dad. “The adults are talking, I’ll let you know when you can open your pornstached mouth.”

“...okay.” he replied quietly, accepting his fate.

“Dad, I don’t know what your problem with Jake is but you’re gonna get over it and end this now.” she demanded.

“No! You’re gonna end this. I don’t care about how ‘fun’ this little fling was but it’s over now.” Mav ordered firmly and her jaw hit the floor in shock and outrage.

“You think you can tell me who I can and can’t date?” she snarled.

“Yes! I can! Because you’re my daughter and Seresin is one of my pilots and you both lied to me.” he spat back.

“Maybe we lied because we knew that this is how you’d react!” she countered, throwing up her hands. “What the fuck is your problem with Jake anyways?”

“My problem with Lieutenant Seresin is that he’s a pilot!” he yelled and she took a step back in surprise as he turned to Jake to speak normally. “Look, Jake, it’s not that I don’t like you, I do. You’re a damn good pilot and I will be forever grateful that you saved Rooster and I but I can’t have you hurting my daughter. I won’t allow it.”

“Sir, with respect, I love your daughter. I love her in the way that I used to think I only loved flying.” Jake said quietly but firmly. “I could never hurt her because I’d be hurting myself. I swear to you I’ll never hurt her.”

“You can’t make that promise. All it takes is one accident during training or a mission gone bad and you will have torn her apart in a way that only grief can do.” Mav said before glancing at Bradley, fleetingly but tellingly. “I’ve seen it before and I will not hold another woman I love as she cries over the coffin of her husband. I won’t. I just won’t.”

The silence was thick, the weight of it hanging in the air over their heads. Y/N stared at her father in disbelief, stunned speechless. She had been expecting him to say something about not approving of Jake because of his reputation or his past personality or to object to her dating someone who worked under him. She had not expected her father to bring up Gooses’ death as the reason why he was so upset. Gooses’ passing had been rough on Carole, Bradley and Mav and she knew her dad still carried survivor’s guilt for the accident regardless of the Navy having cleared him of any wrongdoing.

“You’d rather me be miserable to avoid the off chance I’ll lose him instead of letting me be happy with him for however long I get with him?” she asked, tears welling in her eyes. “You want me to choose between him and you? Is that it?”

“No, sweetheart, that’s not-” Mav began but she cut him off.

“Well, I make my own choices and I- I choose Jake...” was all she could manage to say, voice cracking as the tears flooded from her eyes and she ran from the room, too overwhelmed to stay in the office and finish the conversation.

Bradley shifted his weight nervously as Maverick stared at the door in shock, neither knowing what to do. But Jake did. Without hesitation, he stepped forwards and unpinned the golden wings from his flight suit, dropping them into Mav’s hand, who could only stare down at them for a moment before looking up at Jake in utter disbelief.

“I told you that I love her, sir, and that I'd do anything to get you to approve of us. I wasn’t lying and if the only way you’ll approve of us is for me not to be a pilot anymore, then the choice is obvious.” Jake said earnestly.

“Jake…” Bradley said quietly but Jake continued over him.

“I used to think that flying was the love of my life. But then I met your daughter, sir. If being with her means turning in my wings, then I'll never fly again. I choose her." Jake said without a hint of hesitation or regret in his words before saluting his commanding officer. "It's been an honor, sir."

And with that, Jake Seresin excused himself from the office and followed after his girlfriend down the hall, leaving Maverick and Bradley standing there speechless. It didn’t take him long to find her, the door to the empty classroom she decided to hide in left slightly ajar. As he stepped up to the door, he could hear her sobbing and his heart suddenly felt a hundred pounds heavier. He pushed the door open and stepped into the room gazing around until he found her curled up in a ball against the far wall with her head in her hands.

“Baby?” he asked quietly and her head snapped up to reveal her tear-stained face and watery eyes as she looked at him.

Always one to minimize her own emotions, she immediately began to wipe away her tears and began apologizing. Jake crossed the room and kneeled before her, putting his hands on her cheeks as he looked at her with a loving expression.

“Don’t ever apologize for crying.” he said, his thumb wiping away her tears as he pressed a light kiss to her forehead. “I never want you to hide your feelings from me because you think it’ll upset me.”

She nodded and looked up at him with a quivering lip before surging forwards to throw her arms around his neck and bury her head in his neck as she let go of the tears she had been holding back.

“That’s it baby, let it all out.” he said as he stroked her hair comfortantingly, his other hand pressed flat on her back to hold her as close to him as he could. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

He held her there for a few minutes, comforting her until her sobs quieted and her breathing evened. She pulled back in his arms and gazed up at him.

“I got tears all over your flight suit.” she said with a sniffle.

“Well, these things happen when you enter the battlefield of ‘World War Mitchell’.” he joked, trying to lighten the mood and was rewarded with a small laugh she couldn’t contain. “Besides, I’m not gonna need it anymore so you can cry on it as much as you want.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion before her eyes landed on the empty space where his wings had been and she gasped, clasping a hand to her mouth as she looked back up at him in disbelief.

“Baby, I told you I would do anything to get your dad to approve of us and I meant it.” he said, his green eyes gazing down at her smiling.

“But Jake… you love flying-” she began to argue but he cut her off.

“Not nearly as much as I love you.” he told her, pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear. “I don’t want you to have to choose between me and your father. I never want you to regret your choice or resent either of us for the absence of the other. This way, everyone is happy.”

“What if you regret this? What if you resent me for grounding you?” she asked.

“I could never regret this choice, not if it means a life with you.” he replied. “No matter what, I’m not going anywhere. If you’re worried about me eventually missing flying too much, then we still have options. I mean technically I’m not grounded from non-military flight, I think your father would be fine with me flying cargo planes or passenger jet liners. Or we could get a little prop plane like your dad has in his hanger.”

“Leave it to you to find a loophole in an ultimatum.” she said with a laugh before pressing her lips against his.

Someone at the doorway cleared their throat and the couple pulled apart to turn towards the door, where they found Bradley and Maverick standing.

“I don’t think prop planes or passenger jet liners will be necessary, Lieutenant.” Mav said as Jake helped her stand to face her father and best friend. “And I think I owe you both an apology.”

The couple looked at him curiously as he stepped forwards before handing Jake his wings back, who looked up at him in confusion.

“Sir, I-” he began but Maverick held up a hand to cut him off.

“It took a lot to give up something you love this much and turning in your wings for my daughter’s sake told me everything I need to know about the two of you. I’m sorry that I misjudged you.” Mav said earnestly before turning to look at his daughter. “Sweetheart, I never thought I’d be a dad, I just never thought it was in the cards for me. But then you came into my life, my precious surprise, I had to try and figure out how to do this whole parenting thing without any preparation. I’ve made a lot of mistakes as a dad, and not trusting your decision about this is definitely one of them. I’m so sorry that I tried to control your life and that I made you feel like you had to choose between us. So… I trust your decision, even though it terrifies me as a father, if this is what you want then I support it and I give you my blessing.”

Y/N began to cry once more and launched herself into her father’s arms.

“Thank you, dad.” she said quietly into his ear. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” he replied, holding his daughter in his arms as if he was going to lose her forever if he let go, needing all his strength to let her pull away.

They turned to find Brad and Jake just standing and staring at each other tensely until Brad held out a hand as an olive branch and Jake took it to end the staredown.

“Never thought I’d see the day where you chose to give up your wings, especially not for a girl but I suppose if anyone is worthy of turning in wings, it’s Y/N. You’d better treat her right.” Brad said lightly before leaning in to add “But if you hurt her, I will shove you out of a plane without a parachute.”

“Brad…” Y/N warned and Brad put his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright, alright.” he said as she shook her head.

“I’m sorry I told you to shut up.” she said quietly.

“And?” Bradley asked, waiting for her to say exactly what he wanted to hear and she squinted through her eyelids at him in annoyance.

“And… I’m sorry I called your mustache a ‘pornstache’.” she added reluctantly.

“I forgive you.” Bradley said as he pulled her into a bone-crushing hug like he had done since they were kids.

She rolled her eyes as he let her go and she turned to her boyfriend.

“Jake, can you take me home? I don’t think I can drive right now.” she asked, cheeks still wet and eyes still watery from her previous tears.

Jake opened his mouth to respond that he was still on duty but Mav spoke first.

“Go on, take my daughter home Lieutenant, that’s an order… and you’re dismissed for the rest of the day, get some rest.” Mav said and Y/N hugged her father gratefully before saying goodbye to him and Bradley, letting Jake lead her by the hand out to her car.

Jake drove them to her house, one hand on the steering wheel and the other refusing to let go of her hand and resting in her lap. It wasn’t until he stepped through the door of her house that he finally registered just how exhausted he was from the week of manual labor and the ridiculous amount of pushups, practically collapsing onto her couch. Y/N giggled as she saw he hadn’t even bothered to take off his boots.

“Jake, wouldn’t you be more comfortable in the bed or with your shoes off or getting out of the dirty flight suit?” she asked, amused although a small part of her felt guilty for being the reason he was that tired.

“Too much work… Sleepy time, babe.” Jake groaned, laying his head back and closing his eyes, intending to fall asleep right there when he felt a tug on his boots.

Y/N unlaced his boots and pulled them off his feet before standing in front of him and unzipping his flight suit as far as she could with him seated.

“Damn babe, you that eager to see me naked?” he asked with a smirk and she shook her head.

“Would you just help me get this off so you don't get sweat and oil and a million other gross things on my couch?” she said, somewhat exasperated at his cockiness even when he was dead tired.

“Alright, alright!” he replied, shimmying the rest of his flight suit off, his undershirt quickly joining it on the floor, leaving him in only his boxers.

He watched as a mischievous grin grew on her face and she sunk down onto her knees in front of him, gently nudging his legs apart so she could kneel between them.

“Baby, what are you doing?” Jake asked as her hands inched up his thighs towards his boxers.

“Thanking my boyfriend for being so good to me this week and smoothing things over today.” she replied as she reached the hem of his boxers, pulling them down just enough to free his cock, which was slowly rising at her touch.

“Baby, you don’t have to-” he began but she cut him off by taking him in her hand to make him groan.

“I don’t have to but I want to. I’ve been without you for a week, baby, I’m dying to get my hands on you.” she said as she moved her hand slowly up and down his length. “So just lay back and let me say thank you.”

“Oh fuck…” Jake groaned, throwing his head back as she took him into her mouth, swirling her tongue around his cock.

She hummed happily at his reaction, the vibrations only increasing his pleasure. Jake’s hand weaved into her hair with a light grip as she bobbed up and down his length, sucking and licking in the ways she knew he loved. It wasn’t too long before he was spilling his load down her throat, her wide eyes looking up at him encouragingly as he came. He was breathing heavily as he came down from his high and she pulled away from his cock, a dribble of spit and cum leaking out of her grinning mouth. She stood up, wiping his cum from her mouth, surprised when he grabbed her ass and pulled her towards him so her breasts were in his face.

“Jake!” she exclaimed, trying to pull back as his arms kept her in place, his head resting right in between her breasts. “At least move to the bed instead of the couch.”

“Why would I move when I have two perfect pillows right here?” he replied and she couldn’t help but laugh as she pulled away and put her hands on her hips, Jake whining at the loss of his cushions.

“Would it convince you to go to bed if I took some of my clothes off?” she teased, unbuttoning her jeans and beginning to shimmy them down her legs slowly.

“Fuck…” Jake muttered, throwing his head back at the sight of his favorite pair of panties.

“I see you noticed my choice of underwear…” she said smugly as she fiddled with the hem of her t-shirt. “Don’t you want to know if I’m wearing your favorite bra too?”

“Yes!” Jake said breathlessly, licking his lips as he eyed the section of skin she was revealing as she slowly pulled the fabric upwards, his cock beginning to rise even so soon after cumming.

“Then you’ll have to come to bed.” she said, her movements suddenly ending just before they revealed her bra, winking at him as she disappeared down the hall towards the bedroom, her shirt being flung behind her from around the corner.

Exhaustion was forgotten as his lust took over, scrambling off the couch at top speed, racing down the hallway, and flinging the bedroom door open to find a sight that had his half-hard cock turn as hard as a rock. His girlfriend was lying on the bed suggestively, her lingerie now on full display as she smiled and crooked a finger at him. He practically dived onto the bed and on top of her, hands rushing to remove her breasts from the confines of the bra.

“I thought you liked seeing me in this bra?” she asked cheekily as he pulled it off of her and tossed it onto the floor halfway across the room.

“I do.” he said with a wicked grin as he yanked her panties off and threw them to join the bra, miraculously not ripping them in his haste, savoring her surprised gasp. “They’re my favorite pair to see you in but also my favorite to see on the floor.”

She laughed and began yanking at his boxers, throwing them behind her so carelessly that they would later find them hanging from the doorknob of the bathroom. Jake was surprised when she rolled over to straddle his waist, pushing him down into the mattress with a hand on his chest.

“My poor boyfriend, so tired from all that extra work this week.” she cooed, leaning down to pepper kisses on his neck and the side of his face. “Just lay back and let me do the work, baby.”

“Baby, you don’t have-” he began when he was cut off by the feeling of her lining his cock up with her cunt and sinking down slowly to the hilt. “Fuuuuuuck…”

“That’s it baby.” she said, half a moan as she got used to the familiar and delicious stretch of her walls around him. He tried to put his hands on her waist but she tsked and wiggled a finger before removing them and bringing them up to her breasts. “I’m in control on the pace, just let me take care of you.”

“I fucking love you.” Jake groaned as he palmed the flesh of her breasts and she smiled as she leaned down to kiss him sweetly on the lips.

“I love you too baby.” she replied with a wink before straightening to sit up and begin bouncing herself up and down on his dick.

The only things that could be heard in the room was the slick slapping of their bodies together and their grunts and moans. They were both so worked up from a week’s worth of unwanted chastity away from each other that they were quickly approaching their climaxes. Jake slipped one hand down to rub her clit as the other played with the peak of one of her breasts. The steady rhythm she had set began to falter as she felt herself clamping down on his cock, her orgasm triggering his as they rode through it together. She leaned down to give him one last kiss in between heavy breaths before pulling herself off of him and collapsing onto the bed beside him. His arms immediately pulled her to him him as they panted, her nuzzling into his side and resting her head on his chest.

“If that’s what a week of hard work gets me, then I’m asking for extra assignments every fucking day.” he said and she giggled.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I can’t go that long without sex again.” she told him and he nodded in agreement. “I think it’s time for an afternoon nap.”

“I agree.” Jake said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “And when I wake up all rested and re-energized, I’m gonna show you just all the things I’ve been thinking about doing with you all week.”

She hummed in content agreement before whispering “I love you, Jake.”

“I love you too, Y/N.” he replied and the two drifted off to sleep in utter bliss.

#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake hangman seresin x you #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #jake seresin #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #hangman #hangman fanfiction #hangman fic #top gun fic #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fic

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goldenseresinretriever · 6 months

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Tom “Iceman” Kazansky (former #91)

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Position: Team Owner

Tom Kazansky doesn’t have a lot of regrets in life. He prides himself on his decision making. He’s cold, objective and most of the time, that’s enough. Thirty-six years ago, however, he made decision that’s haunted him ever since. In a moment of misplaced guilt, he invited his grief-stricken rival, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell to join him across the country in Anaheim, California to make a fresh start in an attempt to keep his head above water.

It wasn’t until two years later that he found out the truth. The man he assumed was a free spirit had more tethering him to the ground than Tom had anticipated. Now he’s on the other side of the country from his secret, now-estranged wife and Tom can’t help the very real guilt that eats away at him as he hopes every day for his new friend to come to his senses and make things right with a good woman who deserves the privilege of closure.

Now, Tom’s finally had enough of the waiting for Pete to make the right choice and he’s in the position to do something himself. He decides to call in a favor, throwing objectivity out the window. After all, what’s the point of growing old if you can’t let loose a little? One moment of uncalculated chaos can’t hurt… right? Maybe he’ll finally be able to do right by the woman he unintentionally stole the world from all those years ago.

~~~~~

A/N: I stand by my headcanon that Ice turns into a chaos gremlin once he gets older because fuck it, what does he have to lose? And no one suspects him of having bad intentions because THAT’S ICEMAN, he would never. But he WOULD and he just stirred the fucking pot with his BIGGEST spoon 👀

#san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters hockey au #tgm hockey au #top gun maverick hockey au #top gun maverick #tgm #tom iceman kazansky #iceman #tom kazansky

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rickybaby · 2 years

Text

Daniel Joseph Ricciardo, you are the World Champion!

In which Daniel wins the Championship.

Warning: Pure, utterly complete delusion.

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February 2026, Bahrain

“Well, hello everyone. Cars, on track, for the first time this year! How good is that?!”

“So much to cover this afternoon” Ted Kravitz led his cameraman down the paddock as he fished his notes out of his pocket. “Right then, let’s start off with the talk of the paddock - the new Audi-Sauber team and their surprising new driver line-up!”

“It’s a bit of an interesting one, isn’t it? Daniel Ricciardo and Theo Pourchaire! Yep, the Honey Badger is back in F1 after three years out. Are we surprised that Audi went for Danny Ric? I mean it’s an easy choice if you’re looking for experience. Yes, his last season with McLaren had not been great, but I think he’s more than proved himself in the years away since then, hasn’t he?”

“He’s won Le Mans in 2023 and then went on to win the Indy500 just last year. And you know what that makes him? The only second driver to have ever won the triple crown of motorsport!” Ted stopped just outside the new Audi motor home. “Also he didn’t do too badly today as well.”

“He finished P6 on the timesheets, with his former teammate Max Verstappen in P1, followed by the merc boys - George and Lewis, Yuki Tsunoda in that second Red Bull and Charles Leclerc in his Ferrari. It’s not looking too bad for the Australian, is it? He may just be the one to look out for this season!”

“Now Pete, the Ferraris!” He gestured for his cameraman to follow him as he continued to move down the paddock “those were some interesting side pods we saw on the car …”

-l l-

Up in his driver’s room, Daniel Ricciardo felt as if his neck was about to snap into two. It was always painful to get back into the car after the winter break and even more so now, when he’d been out of the car for three years, but damn if he could stop himself from smiling.

“How was it out there today?” Michael asked as he applied the kinesio tape on Dan’s neck. “Good” he said, and just like in his interviews from earlier, he had to stop himself from gushing, had to be conservatively optimistic for fear of jinxing himself. Truth be told, he felt almost jubilant. Because this morning, when he’d sat in the car and drifted out of the garage, he’d felt that click with the car. The click he hadn’t felt since he’d left Red Bull. He might get criticised for this, but Daniel had never been the type of driver who’d get too technical. His driving style had always been more instinctive. He had to have that particular feeling in the car, that certainty that the car would do exactly what he expected it to do when he was throwing it around a corner at 300 kilometres per hour. He wasn’t naïve, he knew there were still kinks to work out, but he knew the pace was there because they’d been massively sandbagging this morning. He almost had to stop himself from declaring he was here to win the championship because he knew they might laugh him out of the paddock. But these people didn’t know the new Daniel, most still remembered the broken man that McLaren had left for dead.

For his sanity’s sake, Daniel rarely thought back to the season he lost his seat. It had happened to his teammates before but he’d never thought it would ever happen to him. Even after McLaren had essentially fired him, he’d still had hope he could turn his career around. He’d only lost hope when he had found out that Pierre got the Alpine seat while he was still in Australia before the Singaporean Grand Prix. From that moment on, he’d known his prospects for 2023 were pretty much non-existent, but still he’d flown to Singapore, did his media duties, played his usual happy-go-lucky guy role to perfection and all the while, he had been dying inside. And then he got P5 in that race, his best finish that season. He had people congratulating him and through it all, all he could think about was how far he had fallen. He used to be on the top step and now people were patting him on the shoulder for fucking P5.

That night, he’d gone back to his hotel room and looked at himself in the mirror, really looked at himself and he hadn’t recognised the man who’d looked back at him. He still loved the sport but he couldn’t see the Daniel who was passionate about racing, whether he came in first or last. He could only see a man who had been so concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other everyday for so long that he hadn’t realised he had reached the end of the road. He’d picked up the phone and dialled his mom even though he knew it was an ungodly hour in Australia. His mom had picked up on the first ring and she’d softly said his name. That string that had been holding him back finally snapped, and he’d cried, big gulping sobs, snot mixing with his hot tears. When he’d finally calmed down, his mom had quietly told him you know what you have to do. The next morning, he’d told Blake and Michael about his decision.

For the rest of the season, everyone and their mother had gone on and on about what a terrible decision he was making, that they couldn’t understand why he would take a step back. He hadn’t needed people to tell him the risk he was taking, he’d been well-aware of the odds of him ever making his way back on the grid. But he’d reached a point where he couldn’t go on, it had been more important for him to salvage whatever dignity he had left and leave before he started hating the sport. Sometimes, it took a lot more of bravery to accept defeat. So he’d left. He’d taken the time to find his smile again and then block by block, he’d slowly started to rebuild himself into a better, improved Daniel. And this Daniel was here to win.

-l l-

May 2026, Monaco

“Hello and welcome to the qualifying round of the 2026 Monaco Grand Prix. Join us as we watch the 20 drivers fight it out for pole position here. Martin, we all know how important qualifying is here. Who is your favourite for pole position here today?”

“Yes, Crofty. Qualifying in Monaco is always a special one. It really tests all the skills you need as an F1 driver. It should be an interesting fight for pole today. We can expect Max, Lewis and Charles to be bringing a good fight, but I believe we may be in for a surprising result in Daniel Ricciardo. He’s been on pole twice here before and with the season he’s been having since his comeback, I don’t think we can discount him from the fight.”

“Ah yes, Daniel Ricciardo. What a mega comeback it has been. He was in the top 5 in Bahrain and Saudi, and then he went on to win his home race! What an incredible weekend that was! I don’t think I’ve ever heard a crowd cheer so loud as he was making his way round that last corner at Albert Park before he took the chequered flag.”

“Definitely, his performances have been incredible. He did well in China and Baku as well, placing second in both of these races”

“If he continues with performances like that, I think he’ll have to lay off the shoey a bit. Surely, it wouldn’t be too good for his health if he does back-to-backs!”

Daniel knew these streets like the back of his hand. He could drive this track with his eyes closed. So far, he’d been P3 in both Q1 and Q2. There was 3 minutes left on the clock and he had to make this lap count. As he reached the end of his outlap, he briefly closed his eye, took a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders. He let his instincts take over. He almost felt like he was having an out-of-body experience, hovering over the car, watching as he hit the apex, anticipating where the racing line was even before he was taking that exit. He didn’t even need confirmation from his engineer to know pole was his. And the next day, as he took the chequered flag, he couldn’t help thinking that winning Monaco was even sweeter the second time around.

-l l-

September 2026, Monza

“Mate, zucchini on pizza sounds awful”

“Don’t diss it until you’ve tried it, Russell George” Daniel laughed, as they made their way to the truck for the driver’s parade. Daniel couldn’t really tell how his friendship with George had come about. They were vastly different people, but they’d always shared a mutual respect and then George had been one of the few people who had not hesitated to outwardly support him during that last year. And for that, Daniel would always be grateful. He got on the truck, fist-bumping all of the drivers. The Italian sun was shining and just like in 2021, he was starting in P2 just behind Max. Daniel was desperate to pull off the same start as he had the last time around. He badly wanted to win here again. His last Monza win would always be associated with McLaren and he wanted a Monza win that he could call just his.

Later on, as he stood on the highest step of the podium, head tipped back as Max poured the bottle of champagne over him, Daniel felt vindicated. Last time around, he’d cried on the podium, out of relief, out of happiness that he could give that win to his team. This time around, he felt like roaring, felt like banging on his chest. This more than anything felt like a big fuck you to McLaren. In the five years since that last victory, since McLaren had kicked him out, he’d won two of the most prestigious motor races in the world, had clawed his way back to F1, had won another six Grand Prix, had been on 10 podiums so far, while McLaren was still chasing that illusive next victory. He was still McLaren’s last winner. He sat down and unlaced his boots. He’d had his redemption, now it was time for his vindication.

-l l-

November 2026, Abu Dhabi

“Radio check, Daniel”

“Loud and clear”

“30s to the formation lap”

“25s…”

“10s …”

The tire blankets were removed, the car was lowered on its jack. His head mechanic gave him a slight nod. Good to go.

Daniel lowered the lid on his helmet, flexed his hand on the steering wheel. This was it. All or nothing. Last night, he’d been beating himself up for missing out on pole and for qualifying P3. Then this afternoon, as he walked into the paddock, Martin fucking Brundle had pushed his microphone into his face and had the gall to go on about how surprising it was that Daniel was even a name in the championship fight, how no one had expected that he would only be four points behind Max in the lead going into the final race. Daniel had wanted to snap that he had, that he’d come into this season with the full belief that he could win, but he’d put on his usual smile and gave his usual asinine answer.

That more than anything had fired him up. All throughout his career, people had always underestimated him, thinking he was no more than the joker he liked to play. He let that need to prove people wrong fuel him. He thought back to his win over Valterri in Silverstone during their junior years. He wasn’t meant to win that race, but then he had. It had been the same in China in 2018. Most of his wins had been outside of pole. The championship was still his to lose before it was even Max’s to win. He was Daniel Ricciardo, he could make the unexpected happen.

5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … breathe … 1 … lights out. It was time to go hunting.

“Good job, mate. You got Leclerc on the start. Up to P2. 54 laps to go. All to play for.”

Max wasn’t the kind of driver who would easily give in to mind games on track , but Daniel knew the only way he could win this was to force Max into making a mistake. For him, that was the fun in hunting - lulling your prey into complacency, slowly drawing blood before pouncing for the kill.

So, he waited. Lap after lap, he held on to Max, staying in his slipstream. They both built a gap to the rest of the grid, had their pitstops and yet Daniel did not make a move. His engineer kept feeding him information about tyre temperature, Max’s lap times and through all of it, he kept his eyes fixed to the back of Max’s car. Five laps to go. It was time to add a bit of pressure. He closed the gap to the car in front, his front tyres nearly kissing the rear of Max’s car. He stayed glued to Max’s gearbox as they went into the next turn. From then on, it was a game of cat and mouse. Daniel dove down the inside of Max, but Max firmly closed the door. Daniel weaved back and forth, never letting max forget of the danger he posed. He dove and recoiled. Daniel once again dove down the inside going into the next chicane, coming out of the exit side by side with Max. He knew that he wouldn’t have been able to make the move stick because Max had the racing line on that one, but he could feel Max’s nervousness. He had started driving more defensively, going over a couple meters of track he didn’t need to to fend Daniel off. Daniel could smell the blood in the water. Two laps to go. It was time to make his move. He did the classic switcheroo, diving down the inside before switching back, making the move stick by outbraking Max at the last second. They exited the corner with Max trying to come back at him, but Daniel kept a steady grip on the racing line, gradually pulling away.

Daniel knew the battle wasn’t over. Anything could happen in the last few corners. He tried to keep his heart rate down, kept his focus on the last lap ahead. Keep it together, don’t get cocky, he repeated to himself.

“Okay, Daniel. Last corner, last corner. Verstappen is 0.4s behind you. You’re going to make it, Daniel. We just need to keep it together. This is it, Daniel. This is it.”

“What a brilliant battle we’ve seen these last two laps. Max Verstappen has defended his first position valiantly, but there was no stopping this man, Daniel Ricciardo. And just like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the honey badger has come back to win his first world championship as he takes the checkered flag under the lights here in Abu Dhabi! He becomes the second driver only in history to have won the triple crown of motorsport and a Formula One championship! What an incredible achievement!”

Daniel could hear his team go wild over the radio as he crossed the finish line. His heart felt like it could burst from his chest at any moment, it was beating so furiously. The fireworks overhead blurred and sparkled through his tears and sweat running down his face. He’d spent so long chasing this dream, sacrificed so much to get to this moment that now that it was within his grasp, he couldn’t quite believe it. For the first time in his life, Daniel Ricciardo was speechless.

“Thanks boys. Thank you” Daniel’s voice cracked with emotion. He wasn’t even embarrassed that he was openly crying. He had fought too long for this, he deserved it. “Thanks for believing in me. I knew we could do it. We deserve it!”

He parked his car in parc fermé. Knees weak, he clambered up onto the halo and as a million flashbulbs went off, he beat on his chest. The honey badger was finally victorious.

Then, it was a blur of celebratory hugs and pats from his team, from the other drivers. Through it all, he remembered seeing his mom’s tear-stained face, his dad’s proud smile. On the podium, the Australian flag draped over his shoulders, head thrown back as he tried to stop himself from crying once again. Fucking hell, he’d done it. Then he was handed his trophy. He placed a soft kiss at her base, then he was lifting her up as the lights bounced off the silver.

Much later, Daniel walked into his driver’s room, still in a daze, shoeless, race suit drenched in sweat, tears and champagne. He looked at himself in the tiny mirror on his wall. The urge to both laugh and cry bubbled up inside of him. It was going to take sometime for it to really sink in for him. He dragged his hands over his face and up into his curls. Guess he could really say he never left this time around.

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