#commander hotshot

[thecodyagenda]

thinking about Hotshot's backstory and i think she initially serves as a BARC trooper before something happens and she's moved to the 21st Nova Corps. I also think whilst she technically has the title of commander at some point, she isnt a marshal commander and prefers to co-lead or something and wouldnt want to lead by herself.

#commander hotshot #clone oc

[thefriendlyfour]

FOWL agents near and far (redbubble)

#my art #dwd #darkwing duck #fowl #steelbeak #ammonia pine #ample grime #major synapse #hotshot #flygirl #mister wonderful #razor quill #dwd oc #dominic domino #high command

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Yeeeeeeess

Nav: 👗🌼💌🦸‍♀️🥘🍁

And for a little treat:

Clone Boys: 👀

I have asked so much but I need to knooowwww

Take your time, Ily 🌙🔮

ahhh yessss thank you so much, Hex, for asking all of these wonderful questions. answers below the cut because this got away from me 😂😅

Nav:

👗 Describe their style

when they worked on Coruscant before joining the GAR, they 100% rocked the thrifted light academia aesthetic, but it never fully fit their personality.

on the run from the Empire, and just in everyday life, they are much more prone to utilitarian, functional garments in neutral tones. sleeveless tunic belted over utility pants, with steel-toed boots and their trusty backpack. they steal one of Hunter's old bandanas and tie it around their bicep; Hunter loves it. and of course once they settle on Pabu, they start wearing more tank tops and shorts, soft-bottom shoes, a shark-tooth necklace that Omega crafts.

used to have long hair, but cut it really short when they joined the GAR and just never grew it out again.

they also have a single tattoo, a complementary pair to one that Arien had, on their ribs: a deadly cactus flower native to Iridonia. (Arien's was a sketch of Umate, the mountain peak on Coruscant.)

🌼 Assign them an aesthetic

alright take all of the above and now consider: space grunge

💌 How would they react to a love letter?

sorry my first thought here is the fact that Hunter would write said love letter and now I've made myself squee

anyways. on topic. I think the circumstance would be something like, Hunter writes a letter for Nav and leaves it for them to find somewhere, so it's a surprise. like, at the bottom of their pack (because we all know how often Nav cleans that out... 👀). & then reading it they'd need to sit in case they swoon, the paper held in one hand while the other is clasped over their mouth to hide their smile. definitely blushes. depending on how sappy Hunter got while writing, Nav may or may not tear up.

& then immediately tackle Hunter into a giant hug and smother him with kisses.

🦸‍♀️ What would they dress as for Halloween?

Nav would totally talk Hunter into couples' costumes--and of course that means Omega's costume is also themed, which probably means everyone else's as well. the squad as bowling pins and Omega as a bowling ball?

but for one year, Hunter and Nav make sure that their costumes match each other's and only each other's. Hunter as a werewolf and Nav as a werewolf hunter 👀

🥘 Favorite food?

this depends. if we're talking like, most nostalgic, then it's definitely the beef stew and crusty bread that the matron of the orphanage made on a regular basis. a whole big vat of the stew and the huge ovens made the entire building always smell so good.

but now as an adult, their favorite is the salad that Shep taught them to make on Pabu. starfruit and berries, nuts, crumbly cheese, and a decadent oil-based dressing. filling, sweet, and savory all in one.

that, or Hunter's meat pies. Hunter totally learns that he loves to cook once they all settle down on Pabu.

🍁 Their favorite season and why?

alright hc time: Coruscant doesn't have seasons, & Pabu basically has 2: hot and hotter. Iridonia is probably the same, though it gets chilly at night. therefore, Rintonne is the one planet that Nav has been to relatively frequently enough to experience four seasons. their favorite is by far autumn, with spring coming in second. there's something about transitory periods, life in flux, that just Hits Different for Nav. spring is in second place because allergies lmao.

Clone boys:

👀 How do they look like? Give an overall description of them

ohohoho strap in, here we go

387th Battalion, 13th Sector Army

Commander Creed. he presents a very stern, disciplined facade that intimidates shinies and civvies alike, but in reality he's very soft and compassionate. it's what makes him such a strong leader. he's unafraid to voice his opinion when he believes his Jedi General is making a foolish or wrong move, but is humble enough to admit when he's wrong. well-trimmed beard and mustache, undercut with a mop of dark curls. there's a scar from an errant blaster bolt during commando training, that streaks down the left side of his face. he has a tattoo under his left pec that reads 'for the people' in blocky Basic letting--that is his creed. he has a second tattoo on his right hip of his battalion's mascot (pls don't ask me what this is, idk yet).

Captain Static, Shatter Company. earned his name because when he was a cadet, he always pretended to talk on the radios with sound effects (*cksh* come in, command, *cksh*). he's a little bit naive, but very loyal and values intelligence. he often volunteers his company for recon missions, having trained them specially to communicate effectively. he's clean-shaven, with a stud nose piercing and regulation haircut.

Captain Flare, Phoenix Company. loves, loves, loves flare guns and will pout (mostly in jest these days) if he doesn't get the chance to pop one off at least once during a campaign. he's loud and unapologetic, a little cocky, but he does genuinely mean well and respects the hell out of anyone who can outwit his twin, Seg. with a permanent five o'clock shadow, brilliant white teeth, and that one perfect curl that always rests so nicely on his forehead, he's hot and he kriffin' knows it.

Captain Seg, Flare's twin, commanding officer of Angel Company. Seg is a little bit more withdrawn and quiet than Flare, but no less quick-witted--and quick-tempered. he often waits for an opening in his enemy's forces rather than making an opening himself (he leaves that to Shatter & Phoenix Companies). this is both in terms of battle tactics and verbal sparring. often known for silently observing conversations or debates, and drops one-line zingers that leave the entire table slack-jawed and/or in uproarious laughter. he's the most "reg" looking of the captains, but don't let that fool you.

Captain Drifter, of Hollow Company. Drifter is an old grumpy man at heart, rather pessimistic, but can be charming and suave when the occasion arises. something of a social chameleon, often chosen for diplomatic missions alongside the General. he's sarcastic but genuine, a balance he learned early on how to maintain, and it's gotten him into trouble as much as out of it. he has ear piercings, a septum ring, and a huge geometric tattoo sleeve on his right leg; and sometimes lets his hair grow out to about shoulder length.

Bonus boys! Hotshot and Screwball, ARC troopers, who featured briefly in Second Chances. Hotshot has a buzzcut and goatee, vitiligo, a rough hand-drawn star tattoo beneath his left eye, and a scar across the bridge of his nose. Screwball has long hair that he keeps tied back in a low bun, and a scar along the right side of his face. both Hotshot and Screwball are pranksters (and don't get me started on when they have shore leave with Screwball's twin, Misfit), but very, very good at their jobs. they specialize in destabilizing the enemy from behind enemy lines, often using their chaotic impulses to their advantage.

anyways thanks again so much, Hex, for letting me ramble about my blorbos 💖💖

#rhiplies #star wars #oc clone trooper #star wars oc #nav #second chances #oc: commander creed #oc: captain flare #oc: captain static #oc: captain seg #oc: captain drifter #oc: arc hotshot #oc: arc screwball

[ohtobeleah]

Bruises // Jake Seresin

Summary: After a mission goes south, Jake finds himself captured by insurgents that show no remorse. But what’s worse than knowing he failed his mission? Knowing that the Weapons Systems Officer who trusted him to bring her home safe was in the same cell as him. Collecting bruises that match his own.

Mini Series Warnings: Heavy themes of violence, sexual assault, torture. 18+ content. Minors DNI. Mature themes. Being held in captivity. Hostage style situation. Main character death! Whump, Angst. Conversations that discuss antisocial & antisemitism views.

Author Note: THIS SERIES IS CONFRONTING, FICTIONAL, AND DEPICTS IMAGES OF TORTURE. DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT IF YOU BELIEVE THAT THIS SERIES WILL BE DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR MENTAL STABILITY. CURATE YOUR OWN TIMELINE.

Chapter One: [Happily Ever Afters Don’t Exist] A certain naval aviator shows up on your front doorstep right on cue. Because when the nightmares are too hard to handle on their own? You and Jake find solace in one another’s presence. (2.5k ) (Out Now)

Chapter Two: [Tactile Takedown] When a missile is headed right for Roosters F-18, Jake makes a decision that could end up costing you your life. (4.4k) (Out Now)

Chapter Three: [In The Arms Of The Enemy] Both you and Jake come face to face with the man you only know as ‘The Commander’ who you soon find out has very little patience for bullshit. (4.6k) (Out Now)

Hotshot: The moments before you were brought into your cell & the memory that haunted Jake Seresins mind. (1.3k )

Chapter Four: [Men & Their Many Masks] You and Jake find yourselves alone in his cell for what feels like a week. Passing the time with mundane conversations. But when The Commander and his fellow officers finally come back? Things take a turn for the worst. (5.3k) (Out Now)

Chapter Five: [Emerald City:] *** You’re forced against your will by three insurgents all the while Jake helplessly watches on. In return? He’s given a gift made only for the broken hearted. (4.8k) (Out Now)

Chapter Six: [Ninety in Five] *** Hours, Days, Weeks, Months. Just how long have you and Jake been enduring the horrific torture at the hands of a Rogue Nations Commander. (5.4k) (Out Now)

Chapter Seven: [War Wounds in the Ward] When help finally arrives, Jake believes it may be too late. The extent of both your injuries are finally revealed and the both you come face to face with the reality of just how long you’d been held in captivity for. (7.4k) (Out Now)

Chapter Eight: [The Platform] When Jake wakes up beside you after seeking refuge in your company, he’s forced to face a nightmare he thought would only ever exist in his mind. (1.6k) (Out Now)

Epilogue: [Before, During & Never After] There one place Jake Seresin knows where to find you after he’s woken by a startling bark. (1.6k) (Out Now)

Concepts / Blurbs.

-> [Don’t Wanna Miss My Stop] Jake Overdoses

-> [Don’t Blame Me] Jake doesn’t blame himself for how you died. He blames himself for why you died.

Status: Complete

Life After Death Spin off Series

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin angst #Jake Seresin whump #jake hangman x you #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fanfiction

[frogchiro]

I'm thinking about Ghost and a puppygirl!Reader with Ghost insisting on almost daily inspections :((

Also blame @tacticalanklebiter3000 for this, YOU made me write this >:(

You can whine and wiggle all you want but Simon will grab you by your tail and command you to lay still as his rough hands spread your soft thighs open, caressing your lucious fur as he spreads your poor puffy pussy open, all sore and swollen from the fucking Simon subjected you to just this morning and you're still achy and sore :(

But does Simon care? Not one bit, especially when he brings his gloved fingers and trails them up and down your cunt, circling your clit and shushing you when your thighs jump as you let out a loud whine and then making his way towards your aching hole. He'd shove a finger inside you as you continue to yowl and moan, a mixture or pain and pleasure erupting making you go lax on the bed, all your dumbed down puppy brain can do is lay there, whine softly and take it.

Ghost would only be satisfied if he pulled his fingers back out and see them covered in his cum, his sperm that he put inside you just this morning. He knows you're probably a bit uncomfotable but it has to be done, he knows that that damn dog Soap and the new hotshot mutt Graves are sniffing around you, smelling a perfect fertile puppygirl most likely driving them nuts but no way in fuckin' hell he'll let them get near you and definitely won't let them breed.

You're his and if he has to do these inspections every day so be it, at least he'll be sure that way that you're only his♡

#kin speaks #interactions #cod mw x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley

[daddyricsdoll]

Clandestine ✭ Sebastian Vettel

Summary: You lay on your bed masturbating imagining it's your dads young german friend, that happens to be downstairs. You moan a little too loud and then someone opens the door.

Warnings: Masturbation, unprotected sex (p in v), bondage, and a little dacryphilia.

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: RB Seb has me in chokehold and I don't wanna get out.

I sat on my bed, my legs parted and my vibrating dildo thrusting in and out of me. Little pants leave my mouth and then moans. I try to keep quiet as my dad is downstairs with his best friend Sebastian.

Oh Sebastian, the young hotshot nearly 5 years older than me, but oh so perfect. His smile and eyes, the colour of the sky, my favourite jeans and clear ocean water. I keep thrusting, tears running down my eyes and my legs start shaking. “Oh Sebastian!” I whine out, a little louder than I hoped.

I go silent for a second, trying to hear if my dad is still with Sebastian downstairs and when I hear their oblivious voices I finally breathe again. I flop back down on my bed, my legs still wide open and bare. My mind doesn’t close the thought of Sebastian, I keep imagining it’s him between my legs, he is the one making me clench and cum, overstimulating me.

I keep the dildo vibrating and shove it as deep as I can inside of me, I close my eyes and start rubbing my clit. I curse under my breath and little pants including the name Sebastian flood out of my mouth. My breathing becomes loud and it’s the only thing I hear though the tranquil room, that's until I hear a little chuckle and look up. His blond hair, bright smile, and light- no now dark eyes. I shut my legs and cover myself up, with the blanket and pillows beside me.

“Oh liebling, you don’t have to hide yourself now.”

“I-I no Sebastian-”

“Take the blanket off.” He commands me. My breathing becomes unsteady and my hands start shaking, no denying the waterfall between my legs, but I was taken by surprise. 

“Quickly liebling” He stands metres away from the bed, his arms crossed, and I do just what he asked. My hands remove the blanket from myself, my legs still shut together, but he has an exposed view of my torso. 

“Oh come on, don’t hide yourself, don’t act like you weren’t just moaning out my name, wishing that dildo was me. And I’ll tell you now, I’m better. That piece of plastic doesn’t compare to me, so open those legs of yours and show me what made you scream like that.”

The words to explain what happened to me, what I’m feeling…they don’t exist. So very slowly, I spread my legs, my knees bent and dildo still buzzing inside of me. A gorgeous smile blooms on his face, barely covering his smirk. I watch his eyes roam around my vulnerable body and he slowly starts taking steps toward me. 

“Go” He lifts his chin up in a quick motion. I move my hand to the dildo and start driving in and out of me, my breaths become short and I try to stay as quiet as my body will let me.

“Louder, don’t hold back liebling. I want to hear you.” He stands directly at the end of the bed, eyes stuck on me like a predator hunting its prey. He watches my hand and how my cunt clenches around the dildo, he watches my eyes squeeze shut and he watches my mouth open to inhale oxygen.

My moans become louder and I feel my climax just moments away. Once I open my eyes and they make contact with the man standing in front of me, it sets me off and I cum on the dildo once again. I moan out Sebastian's name and watch the young german grin.

Sebastian crawls on the end of the bed, and when my body is finally calm he speaks.

“How did that feel? Good?” I nod eagerly to him and he shakes his head. “Give me words.”

“Y-yes, it felt good.”

“Was it better than the first time?” I nod to him. “Words Liebling."

“Yes.” “Why? Why did it feel better?”

“Because of you, you were here and you made it better.”

He chuckles deeply. “I didn’t even touch you.” And ultimately he touches me, not where I need, but he caresses my leg, starting from my foot. 

“Well I- you”

“You can’t even speak properly.”

“No, I… I imagined you were fucking me.” I softly say, I expect a smile, but his brows furrow.

“You imagined,” He takes a deep breath. “that I was that toy you were using. You really do underestimate me don’t you?” Sebastian starts crawling further up the bed and he sits directly in between my legs. He starts shaking his head and looks down. “Oh you little slut, you’re wet from me just speaking.” He rests his hands on my knees and uses it as support so he can kneel, both knees on the bed and then his hand goes to his pants. 

“How about I show you what I really feel like? Or are you too exhausted from that toy?” 

“No, no. I- I can handle you.”

He cocks his eyebrow, and lets out a deep sign mixed with a chuckle. Sebastian’s hands work his belt and then his pants are pooling just above his knees. The bulge in his pants evident and when I sit up, my hand reaching out to touch it, he hits it away.

“Put your wrist together.” He tells me and I do what is asked. The belt that wrapped around his waist is now being tightened around my wrists. “Lie down” He demands, so once again, I listen to him and I lay down, my arms above my head and then his hands go to my hips.

I hear his boxers being taken off and then my hips are being lifted. I arch my body, giving him a little help and then in one swift motion, he slams himself into me. Loud moans leave both of our mouths and then Sebastian pulls out fully and slams back into me again, with more ease than last time, but also more force.

Tears start pooling in my eyes and then in another shove they flee, escaping through the corner of my eye and sliding down the side of my face. 

“Oh, are you crying, my pretty girl?” He grits through his teeth. “I thought you could handle me?” He lets out another deep chuckle and more tears crawl down your face.

“Is this what you wanted? What you imagined?” Sebastian groans as he rams his dick inside of me. “I hope not, because this is better.”

His words tip me right off the edge and I cum with a loud whimper of Sebastian’s name. Seconds later I feel him twitching in me and he reaches his climax too. Sebastian pulls out and starts putting his pants back on, eyes never leaving me. I sit there, my legs still wide open, filled with Sebs cum, tears dried and unwilling to move.

He smiles as he unties my wrists and puts his belt back on, my eyes start fluttering closed and I see the young germans back as he walks out of the door, leaving me there in a daze.

#sebastian vettel #f1 x reader #f1 smut #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #formula 1 #formula 1 smut #this is filth #sebastian vettel x you #redbull racing #red bull seb #Sebastian Vettel smut

[topguncortez]

I Knew You Were Trouble || Whumptober Day 4 - J. Seresin & Shy!Wifey

Whumptober Masterlist || Whumptober Taglist Form

synopsis: things hadn't been great between the two of them for some time, but she never knew there was another woman involved

@ailesswhumptober prompt: betrayal

word count: 2.2k

warnings: infidelity, cheating, mentions of a miscarriage, unhleatiy coping mechanisms, grief, heartbreak

“I didn’t know he had a wife.” 

From the moment that Y/N had met Jake, she had heard the whispers. The rumor mill was anything but quiet when it came to Jake Seresin. He was the hotshot aviator with a pretty smile and a reputation for leaving a trail of broken hearts wherever he went.

Y/N had taken a gamble when it came to Jake. She knew that Jake could basically have any woman or man that he looked at. No matter how many times Jake had said it, it took Y/N a long time to really believe that she was it for him. That she could be enough and more for him. 

Y/N lost count of how many Navy balls she had gone to in the past seven years of being by Jake’s side. She could remember the very first one he had ever taken her to, the one where he had met her dad for the very first time. Jake had been so scared to meet the infamous James ‘Hercules’ Parker, but it was also the night that Jake realized he couldn’t live without Y/N. Now, seven years and three kids later, the Seresins walked into the banquet hall hand in hand. 

But what was supposed to be a fun first night out since the birth of their third child, Eli, quickly turned sour when Y/N overheard what she was assuming was supposed to be a private conversation. 

“Did you know Commander Seresin is married?” A woman asked her friend, her voice barely above a whisper but echoing in what they assumed was a vacant restroom. Y/N froze as she had just walked into the restroom and heard her husband’s last name. She pressed her back against the wall, craning her head to hear the conversation.

“Uh yeah,” Another female scoffed, “He’s only like obsessed with his wife. . . why?” 

The first female, a blonde ensign who had just started her career as a TopGun cadet, froze. Her eyes turned red as she stared at her friend in the mirror. A look of horror and guilt was written on her face. 

“I didn’t know he had a wife.” 

The second female gasped, her eyes wide as she looked at her friend through the mirror, “How could you not know!?"

"I didn't know."

It was as if the air had been sucked right out of the room as the blonde started crying over her admission. Y/N felt bile rising in her throat as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She placed a hand on her racing heart, walking backward until her back hit the restroom door. Spots clouded her vision as she turned and fumbled to get the door open, trying to escape as quickly as she could. 

“I didn’t know he had a wife.” 

The words felt like daggers to her chest, as her head started to swim. She wasn’t sure where she was going, or where her body was leading her. All she knew was that she needed air. She needed to get away from the crowd, from the stares. She felt as though all eyes were on her as she cut through the crowded ballroom towards the exit on the other side.

Did other people know? Of course, they had to know. Everyone knew everything when it came to Jake “Hangman” Seresin. Was that why a whole table of young lieutenants were staring at her? Mocking her? Laughing at her? 

Those five words replayed over and over in her head, as her brain conjured up the worst images it could imagine. Her loving husband, and that gorgeous blonde woman with perfect tits and a perfect body. Y/N couldn’t but wonder; did he hold her the same way he holds her? Did he say the same things as her? Did he touch her the same way? Her throat felt like it was about to close as she nearly reached the exit. She pressed her hand against the door, feeling the rush of fresh air enter. 

“Oh! There she is!”

Y/N felt a hand wrap around her arm, stopping her in her trance. The hand pulled her back, making the door shut and closing off her chance at escaping. Y/N looked away from the door to see her husband’s dazzling smile.

A smile that usually made her feel warm and safe, now made her feel nothing but red-hot anger, “Gentlemen, this is my beautiful wife, Y/N.” 

Jake wrapped his arm around his wife’s waist, holding her close to him. Normally, the gesture made her feel calm. Although she had gained a lot of confidence in the past half-decade, she still had some insecurities. It made her nervous to meet new people, especially people who had the power to make or break her husband’s career. But standing next to him, after hearing the confession in the restroom, all Y/N wanted to do was cry. She wanted to push his arm off of her and run out the door. But she knew better than to do that. She had watched her mother for years play the doting wife to the Naval Admiral, and she had followed right in her footsteps. 

Y/N rolled her shoulders back, taking a sip of air to push the nausea down, and put a bright smile on her face. She held her hand out and greeted the Admirals in front of her. She nodded her head and listened to them sing the praises of her husband. Jake does his usual bit where he tells them to stop flattering him, that they are making him blush, which gets a loud roar of laughter.

Y/N looked at her husband, who had his Old Hollywood movie star smile on his face. He was clad in his white full-dress uniform. Gold medals shined to perfection. The ribbon rack is put neatly and carefully together. Not a single piece of blonde hair was out of place. It made Y/N feel sick. 

“Well, we’ll let you two enjoy the rest of your night,” One of the admirals said, giving you a wink, “Don’t get too crazy. . . We just got this one back from paternity leave.” 

“Don’t have to worry about that happening again,” Y/N said quickly. Jake furrowed his brows and looked at her. She’s never said something like that before. Y/N gulped, glancing quickly down at her shoes before back up at the admiral, “It was nice meeting you.” 

“You too,” The admiral nodded and walked away with the rest of them.

Jake was silent for a moment before he turned to face his wife, a concerned look on his face, “Are you alright-” 

“She didn’t know you had a wife,” Y/N said, looking Jake right in the eye. Jake felt his heart pounding in his chest as he looked back at his wife. Y/N hated fighting, she had confrontations. Whenever they argued, it usually led to her breaking down in tears. But, there was not a single tear in her eye as she stared Jake down. 

Jake opened and shut his jaw a couple of times. His head was swimming for the right words to say to her, but he was coming up with nothing. Instead, he placed his hand on the small of her back and led her towards the doors. Y/N silently agreed and followed him. Jake gathered Y/N’s coat and the keys to their car. The tension was thick between them as she slid the coat on her arms and followed Jake to the car. 

The ride home was silent as their minds were running a mile a minute. Y/N’s eyes were trained on the world outside while Jake was white-knuckling the steering wheel. He was thinking how the hell she found out and Y/N was thinking how the hell this happened. 

Sure, things hadn’t been perfect between them. Losing a baby affects even the strongest of couples. But they were Jake and Y/N. They got through things like this and came out stronger on the other end. They didn’t let little things like rumors and gossip ruin what they had. 

But this was different. This wasn’t just rumors or gossip. 

Y/N couldn’t help but let her mind wonder again. She closed her eyes tightly trying to will the images of her husband and another woman away from her brain but it was no use. She wondered if he thought about her. If he had thought of his vows. If he had taken his ring off. What had he said to that blonde to get her into bed? Jake was a charming man, Y/N could remember the first time they met and how giddy she had felt. She wondered if that woman felt the same thing. 

“Stop the car,” Stop the car,” Y/N mumbled, holding her first to her mouth. The thoughts plaguing her mind made her feel sick to her stomach, “Pull over,” She sucked in a breath of air, trying to keep herself from gagging. 

Jake looked over at her, “What?” 

“Pull the damn car over!” 

Jake complied, pulling off to the side of the road. Y/N hardly waited a beat once the car was in park, to throw the door open and get it out. She stumbled a couple of steps towards the back of the car, before bracing her hand on the side and vomiting up her dinner. Jake cursed as he put the hazards on and got out of the car. He quickly made his way to her, reaching to pull her hair back. 

“Don’t touch me!” Y/N snapped, pushing his hand away from her. She took a couple of paces away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Tears were now streaming down her face as she stood on the shoulder of the road, “Why?” She turned to face Jake, “Why did you do it?” 

“Sweetheart, please, let’s get back in the car and we can discuss at-” 

“No!” Y/N yelled, “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to try and coerce me into dropping this and moving on. . . You cheated on me?” 

Jake moved forward, but Y/N took the same distance back, “It meant nothing-” 

Y/N laughed and shook her head, “That’s supposed to make me feel better? You having a meaningless hookup with some ensign is supposed to just magically make things alright? Cause it doesn’t, Jake. It doesn’t!” 

“It was an accident! I didn’t mean for it-” 

Y/N scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Your dick doesn’t just slip into someone on-” 

“We lost a baby!” Jake yelled. Y/N snapped her head towards him, a bewildered expression on his face. Jake hardly ever mentioned the miscarriage that they had suffered before conceiving Eli. He had gotten a bit teary-eyed about it, but other than that, he had been the rock that the family needed during that time. 

“What does that have to do-” 

“You acted like it was no big deal. Y-You just brushed it off after a couple of weeks and wanted to start trying again. And then you got pregnant and it was like that baby never mattered. You didn’t seem to care when the rose bush in the backyard died. You just… you basically forgot.” 

“I forgot?” Y/N whispered, “I? Me? The one who lost the baby. The one whose only job was to house and protect and grow the baby, forgot that I lost them?” 

“I just-“

“That moment haunts me all the time,” Y/N clenched her jaw, “I hear that silence all the time and it’s so fucking loud.” 

“Well,” Jake shifted on his feet, “Ya know what. . . I felt like you were using me! All you wanted to do was get pregnant right after we lost the baby! There was no love, there was no relationship.” 

Y/N scoffed, “And that's your reasoning for cheating on me,” You shook your head, "You weren't the only one feeling the lack of love. You hardly touched me unless I was begging you to. You were pushing me away."

“I needed you and you weren’t-” 

“And you don’t think that I needed you?” Y/N’s voice broke, “I was holding myself together with tape and glue while taking care of our children and mourning the loss of a baby I will never get to know, and grow another one. I was terrified! I was scared to move! To breathe! Every single appointment I was scared to go to! And you were too busy burying your cock into a twenty-something-year-old to notice!” 

“You didn’t tell me!” Jake yelled back. 

“I shouldn’t have to. I am your wife! And you are my husband. You should be loyal to me and only me. You should have confided in me about your feelings, but instead, you confided your dick into someone else.” 

“It wasn’t even sex,” Jake mumbled. 

Y/N burst out laughing. She ran her hands through her hair and tugged at the roots, “That’s supposed to make me feel better?” 

Jake just shrugged. 

Y/N shook her head, and looked down at her feet, “I-I can’t do this tonight.” She brushed past Jake, getting into the car and settling back in her seat. 

Jake let out a sigh, tilting his head back and looking up at the sky. He prayed for anything to come down and take him out, just so he didn’t have to look into the eyes of the woman he loved. The woman who he broke.

whumptober taglist: @els-marvelvsp @sarahsmi13s @topgun-imagines @xoxabs88xox @cassiemitchell @seitmai @a-reader-and-a-writer @bradleybeachbabe @kmc1989 @senawashere @beautifulandvoid @oldermenaremyreligion @ohtobeleah

#top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fan fiction #Jake seresin #Jake seresin imagine #Jake seresin fan fic #Jake seresin fan fiction #Jake seresin x reader #Jake seresin x you #Jake seresin x y/n #Jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin #hangman #hangman fan fic #hangman fan fiction #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #top gun angst #top gun maverick angst #Jake seresin angst #hangman agnst #Jake seresin x Shy!Wifey #g's whumptober #opposites attract things!

[togrowoldinv]

Assistant

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Natalie Rushman is the new assistant to hotshot attorney y/n.

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, fingering (N receiving), oral (R receiving), Wanda

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

“Good morning, Ms. y/l/n,” you hear a voice ring out from the threshold of your office.

Annoyed by the interruption, you sigh and look up to see who might be bothering you at this hour. You don’t expect to be met with a beautiful redheaded woman, but your curiosity is peaked.

“Who might you be?” you ask the woman.

She enters the office further before she speaks again. “I’m Natalie Rushman, your new assistant.”

You don’t recall interviewing any new assistant candidates, but then again, it’s probably something that your subordinate took care of for you. You didn’t have time for the task.

“Well, Natalie. I have a few rules,” you say with a smirk.

“I’m listening,” she fires back quickly. You think you are going to like her.

“First, you have to think ahead. If you are two steps ahead, you’re already a step behind,” you explain. “Second, I expect you to work when I work. The days and nights are long.”

“I’m up for the challenge,” Natalie replies.

“And finally, do not ask me about anything personal. We’re not here to be friends. We’re here to do a job. Understood?”

“Understood,” she says. There’s a look in her eyes that you can’t quite read, but you ignore it for now.

“Okay then. Welcome to the greatest law firm in the country. Get to work, Ms. Rushman.”

With that, she gets up and goes to her desk outside your door. She doesn’t ask any questions the entire day but seemingly knows exactly when to provide you with assistance.

It’s a month before you truly challenge her at her job. She hears you in your office having a heated conversation with your true rival.

“Wanda, drop the case. Or you won’t like what happens,” you say sternly. You’re standing behind your desk as the other woman challenges you from the other side.

“I’ll take my chances, sweetheart,” she says condescendingly. “See you in court!” Wanda shouts, flipping you off as she walks out of the office.

You notice Natalie watching from her desk.

“In here now,” you command her.

“Yes, Ms. y/l/n?”

You sit back in your chair and rack your brain for what you could actually ask for help with.

“I need everything we have on Wanda Maximoff,” you say.

“Absolutely. On what case?”

“Not a case. On the woman herself.”

“But-”

“This is what I meant by thinking ahead. I’m sorry, can you not do what I’m asking of you?” You are losing your patience. No one quite gets under your skin as Wanda does.

“Consider it done,” Natalie changes her stance at your tone.

She leaves your office to go put a team together to dig up dirt on Wanda, or at least you assume so. You get to work on your own.

By the time Natalie returns with a folder of information, you have already found out the worst details about Wanda.

“What?” you ask the woman as she sits across from you. She is looking you over a little too closely.

“It’s nothing.”

“No, please tell me,” you encourage her, but it is sarcastic in demand.

“Is this really a good idea? To go after her, I mean,” she says.

You stand up from your desk and pace to the drink cart in frustration.

“Why would it be a bad idea? Natalie, she is going after one of my most important clients. I cannot let them sign with her!”

“But why go after her and not her work?” she challenges you.

“I don’t pay you to ask me personal questions.” The sternness of your voice makes Natalie blink hard at you, but she isn’t quite finished.

“I’m sure it was really shitty what Wanda did to you, but you don’t mix business with pleasure, so your logic doesn’t follow,” Natalie explains.

“Just stop, Natalie. I don’t care what you think! Do your goddamn job and stay out of my business!” You slam your hand on your desk in the midst of your anger.

Natalie holds her hands up in surrender and leaves your office. You sit down with a sigh. You never felt bad about yelling at anyone before, but how she looked at you when you did was enough to make you ponder why you felt guilty now.

About thirty minutes later, a food delivery person approaches Natalie’s desk.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t think we ordered anything,” she tells them.

You step out of your office to greet them at the same moment.

“I got us dinner,” you say. You tip the deliverer and gesture for Natalie to follow you into your office.

She sits across from you at the table you often use to work over case files. You get out the food and hand her a share.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier,” you begin. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“It’s alright. I didn’t follow your rules,” Natalie says. You think she bats her eyes at you, but maybe it’s a figment of your imagination.

“So, tomorrow night is a party for all of the attorneys in the city. It’s a good networking event,” you say. “I need you to come with me so we can get some leads.”

“I’ll be there,” Natalie replies. “I can contact your designer. What kind of dress do you want?”

“Mm, I was kind of thinking of a suit. What do you think?”

“I think you’d look amazing in anything,” she says.

You oddly feel heat creep up your neck in reaction to her words.

“Tell them you need clothes too. A dress, a suit, whatever your choice is. It’s on me,” you tell her.

Natalie smirks at you and puts a reminder on her calendar to get those outfits. She leaves your office.

The next day starts normally. You get to work early, and Natalie is already there with a coffee for you. You work on your case against Wanda, and you do start to wonder if you should be going after her like this. What Natalie said about mixing business with pleasure is getting to you.

You’re interrupted at midday by your clothes for the evening arriving.

“Here you are, Ms. y/l/n,” Natalie says as she hangs your suit in the closet. It’s red velvet and maybe too extra, but you know Wanda will dress to impress. You want to stand out.

“What did you get?” You ask her.

“Oh, just a simple black dress,” Natalie answers.

“Great. Have the driver here at 7pm.”

“Yes ma’am,” Natalie says. She leaves your office again.

That night the driver is right on time. You walk down to the front of the building and Natalie stands next to the car. Your eyes can’t help but see the way her dress frames her hips and breasts. There’s no denying your attraction to her now.

“Good evening, Ms. y/l/n,” she greets you.

“Natalie,” you say. She doesn’t miss the way your eyes rake over her.

You get into the backseat, and she follows after you. She is fielding calls during the drive. Oddly, she doesn’t mention you once and you begin to wonder who she is talking to. The thoughts leave your mind as you arrive at the party.

When you walk in, the attention of the room falls on you. You greet Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, and Carol Danvers. Three attorneys that work with Wanda. If anyone has dirt on the woman, it’s them. But you’re surprisingly cordial with the trio.

Natalie follows behind you as you settle into the party. You find a spot at the bar for a break from the socializing.

“You look stunning,” a voice suddenly comes from behind you. It’s Wanda.

“Fuck you,” you mumble, not even giving her the time of day.

“Hello,” she speaks to Natalie this time. “I’m Wanda.”

You can see Natalie shake her hand out of the corner of your eye.

“I’m Natalie, Ms. y/l/n’s assistant,” she says.

“Right. You look familiar. Have I seen you somewhere?” Wanda asks.

That piques your attention. You turn around to watch the women interact.

“Just the other day at the office,” Natalie quips quickly. A little too quickly.

Wanda is going to say something more but Stark gathers everyone’s attention for a toast. Wanda walks towards the man, leaving you and Natalie at the bar.

“What was that about?” You ask her.

“I have no idea,” she answers. You wonder if she’s lying. If she is, then she’s damn good at it.

Once Tony finishes his speech, he hands off the microphone to Steve. His statement is quick, and full of wisdom like usual. Carol is next and she’s supposed to be last, but Wanda takes the microphone.

You feel Natalie move closer to you.

“As some of you know, I have just closed a huge client,” Wanda begins. Your pace quickens. How could she already be announcing this when nothing is set in stone? You thought for sure you had the client convinced to stay with you. “And I want to celebrate that tonight. Thanks to the rest of the Stark, Rogers, Danvers team for helping me achieve this goal. And thank you to y/n y/l/n for giving up this client.”

You’ve had enough and you charge towards Wanda. Natalie tries to hold you back, but it’s no use.

“What the fuck?” you yell at her. “The client hasn’t signed with you! And they won’t!”

“Oh, but they have,” Wanda says.

“Bullshit,” you reply.

“Bishop,” she calls for her assistant. The young girl hands her a document. “It’s right here.”

“This must be fake,” you counter.

“It’s real. Trust me.”

“Never again,” you say. It’s loaded with meaning. “You’re a fraud.”

You storm out of the ballroom. Natalie follows after you, her presence notable as you enter the bathroom.

“Leave me alone,” you tell her.

“Y/n,” Natalie says. She never addresses you by your first name. “Listen to me.”

You look up to meet her green eyes. She looks worried about you.

“Wanda needed to take that client,” Natalie says. Her words shock you.

“Why? Did you help her?” You get no response. “Natalie, did you fucking help her?”

“Trust me on this one.”

“You’ve given me no reason to. First, you tried to convince me to stop going after her, and now this. Are you working for her? You’re some kind of undercover agent, is that it?”

“I- okay y/n, I am going to be honest with you,” she says.

“About damn time.”

“I work for SHIELD and they assigned me to make sure that Wanda got that client. They have been wanting to go for her for years, but they needed an in. Your client, her client, is up to some shady shit,” Natasha explains.

“What’s your real name?” You ask. She didn’t expect that to be your first question.

“Natasha,” she says. “Natasha Romanoff.”

“Well, Natasha I’m very angry with you,” you say. She nods. She understands. “But I guess I owe you one.”

“I wish we had met under different circumstances,” Natasha says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe then I could’ve made a move on you,” she admits.

You can’t help but smile at that. So, she was flirting all of this time.

“Can I ask if you handed the client over to Wanda?” You ask her. You know the answer. She seems like the kind of woman who knows how to complete a task.

“It was for your own good. And it’s a chance for you to see your ex-wife fall,” Natasha says.

You nod. Your history with Wanda wasn’t widely public, but Natasha found out while digging up dirt on the woman.

“I think you can make this up to me,” you say. Natasha quirks her eyebrow. “You said I would look good in a suit, so do you think I would look good with it off?”

Natasha comes closer to you. You’re pressed against the bathroom sink. Anyone could come in, but you don’t care. The woman reaches out and unbuttons your pants. She slides them down your legs, keeping eye contact the entire time.

“Wait,” you say before she kneels in front of you. She pauses her movements. “Is this a part of the mission?”

“No,” Natasha says. “This is me wanting to make things right with us.”

You gesture for her to continue. Natasha lowers onto her knees and gets right to work. You have no time to waste. And god, is she good at this. Nat licks through your fold and takes your clit into her mouth. She sucks while her fingers find their way into you.

Being here with such a beautiful woman having such risky sex makes it easy for you to come quickly.

“Fuck, Natasha!” You shout as you come hard against her.

She licks you clean and stands back up. She wears a sweet smile.

“That was even better than I imagined,” Nat says.

“Yeah.”

“You imagined it?”

“I imagined bending you over my desk and fucking you until you couldn’t walk,” you tell her. She grins and finally kisses you.

The kiss is filthy as her tongue mingles with yours. You take control and turn her to sit on the counter. Lifting up her dress, you pull her panties to the side and bring your fingers through her wetness.

“Great dress choice tonight, baby,” you tell her.

Nat moans at the feeling of your fingers sliding into her. She is more than ready for you.

“I picked it for you,” Natasha says. “I was hoping this might happen.”

“Mm, bad girl,” you say. Natasha’s body jerks at your words and the feeling of you being deep inside of her. “Did you want me to punish you for lying to me?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” Natasha says. Her voice is raspy.

“I don’t like to be lied to, Natalie,” you use her alias. It turns her on further.

“I’m sorry ma’am,” Nat says.

“You better be,” your voice is cold as you continue to move inside her.

With a few more strokes, Nat comes apart. You keep your fingers moving as she has the best orgasm of her life.

“Fuck, Ms. y/l/n,” Natasha whimpers. “I’m sensitive.”

“One more,” you tell her. She bites her lip. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

“One more,” she agrees.

You move your fingers quicker again. She is already close. When you lean in and kiss her lips, she is done for. All of the days she had imagined doing this with you had finally come to fruition.

“That’s a good girl, Nat,” you say.

You remove your fingers, and she puts them into her mouth. She licks them clean. The sight is downright pornographic.

“Are you sure you can’t stay on as my assistant?” You ask. “I’d love to fuck you like this on my desk every day.”

“How about I be your spy girlfriend?” Natasha asks. You knew she’d recover from her orgasms quickly and have a quippy reply to you.

“Deal,” you say.

Just then the door opens and Wanda walks in. She sees you and Natasha tangled together and your pants down around your ankles.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she says, turning around and leaving.

You and Natasha can’t help but chuckle together. A wonderful spy girlfriend she will definitely make.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort #natasha romanoff smut

[tfcaptions2]

Alright, focus. I can feel it happening again, that strange pull in my mind, trying to change me into someone I'm not. I won't let it control me this time. I refuse to become that hotshot, cocky businessman with a chinstrap beard and all that swagger. I've worked hard to be the person I am, and I won't let my thoughts betray me.

But damn, those images are getting vivid. I can practically see myself in that sharp dress shirt, those tailored dress pants. What's with this sudden obsession with being bald and muscular? And that necklace, watch, and ring materializing out of thin air? This is ridiculous! I'm not some arrogant, overconfident prick. I've got integrity, and I won't lose myself to this bizarre mental transformation.

But... that voice in my head, it's relentless. It keeps telling me how powerful I'd feel, how attractive, how commanding. No, I won't be swayed by these fantasies. My friends, my family, they know me as I am, and I won't let some illusion change that.

My body, though—it's like it's responding to these thoughts. I can feel my muscles tightening, growing. What is happening to me? This isn't who I am. I won't be that guy. I won't!

The clothing... it's shifting, changing. This is insane. The dress shirt, the dress pants—it's all appearing on my body. How is this even possible? And that jewelry, it's like it's being placed on me by some invisible hand. Get a grip, man! You're not becoming that arrogant, cocky version of yourself. You're stronger than this.

Damn it, my reflection. I can see it now. The bald head, the thick chinstrap beard—this isn't real. This isn't me! I won't succumb to this delusion. I won't let it take over. I need to fight back, to hold onto who I am, to resist becoming that smug, self-absorbed alpha male.

But... oh, god. It's too powerful. The transformation is overwhelming me. I can feel the words forming in my mouth, the arrogance seeping into my thoughts. It's like I'm forgetting who I was, who I am. Wait... why was I resisting again? This feels... amazing. I am amazing. Look at me, powerful and confident, every bit the alpha male.

Yeah, that's right. I've got the looks, the charm, the swagger. Who needs humility when you've got all this? I'm in control now, and I'm not looking back. I don't remember ever being anyone else. I'm the man, the one everyone envies. And why wouldn't they? Just look at me.

Wait... what was I thinking about before? Something about not giving in, resisting change? Nah, that's all in the past. I'm a new man now, the man I was always meant to be. Time to conquer the world, one confident step at a time.

#male transformation #male transformation caption

[dead-rabbit-games]

Words by @nightmareworks and Art by @moiderahart

A great many ships move through the Auric Range, trade flowing up through the Sierra Madre Line and out through the Santanna Blinkgate. Thus, an increased presence of Trunk Security and its subfirms. Of these subfirms the Boudreaux & Thibodeaux Concern handles design and production for mechanized chassis in what are termed “High-Threat Corporate Entanglements”.  This is all preamble of course, to introduce what many in the Range consider IPS-N’s finest security force multiplier- The Bonney.  The Bonney is what IPS-N terms a “High Kinetic Fire Support Platform” created by the hyperkinesis module integrated into the “nervous system” of the mech’s frame and the pilot’s spinal uplink. Doses of the synthetic nano-adrenaline released in microbursts throughout combat allow both mech and pilot to move faster and shoot better than anyone else on the battlefield. And to the mercenary forces of Ladon’s Corpse and Furthest West there simply isn’t better than an experienced Bonney pilot to turn any mission around.

Bonney, within the Auric Range, is seen as a veteran’s frame. This is not to say that IPS-N, through B&TC, will not sell the mech to any hotshot who comes through Santanna with Manna to burn (and in the Range, those men outnumber the veterans), they absolutely will. But the popular public consensus of the Bonney is derived from the screamsheets and newspicts that flow back to the Sisters from the dozens of conflict zones that decorate the Range- media that depicts the Bonney and her pilots as hard bitten mercenaries with the strange affect of someone used to a life that starts and stops on command. The critics say this is a side-effect of long-term “Chronos” exposure. The pilots say that’s just what it takes to survive beyond the grasp of the Sisters.

--

IPS-N BONNEY. 2/12 OF THE AURIC RANGE

#mechs #mecha #mecha art #scifi #scifiart #lancer rpg #lancer art #ips n #moidarts

[thecodyagenda]

new clone oc, commander hotshot

(she/they)

#commander hotshot (oc) #clone oc #star wars #lynn's art

[mickittotheman]

Hiiii gallavich and 20? Kiss on a scar?

Hiiii!!! Your wish is my command:

+++

Ian’s on top of him, warm and heavy and so fucking good. Mickey wiggles a bit, tipping his head back to try and get a better angle, but the fact is that it’s pretty hard to have a successful makeout session when you have a huge grin stretched across your lips.

Ian doesn’t seem to mind. He’s smiling too.

Mickey nips at his lower lip, and Ian hisses and pulls back slightly, one hand still pinning Mickey’s wrists to the cot, the other cupping Mickey’s face.

Ian glares at him for all of one second before melting like a fucking sap again.

“Mickey.”

Mickey’s smile widens. He cocks his brow. Nibbles on his own lip instead of Ian’s. He lets himself look, really look, drink in all the details. “Your hair looks stupid as hell.”

Ian blinks, eyes flitting up as if he’ll be able to see. Fucking dork. “Oh. Yeah. I was uh… thinking about making a run for it. Maybe head down to Mexico…”

“Thank fuck you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” Ian breathes, gaze still dancing all over Mickey’s face like he’s not entirely convinced that he’s real, that he’s here. “Thank fuck.”

Mickey wiggles again, this time in impatience. Ian’s on him, but he wants Ian on him, wants Ian in him, wants Ian. 

He’s just about to start bitching when Ian tenses, brows furrowing, smile slipping. His hand slips down from Mickey’s face, fingers glancing over the skin of Mickey’s neck.

Oh.

“What’s this?”

“Nothin',” Mickey says, wiggling again. Jesus. What is it with Gallagher and his ability to turn Mickey into a fucking worm. “Don’t worry about it. ‘S all healed up, anyways.”

Ian’s frown deepens. His gaze darts up to meet Mickey’s, then down again, to the little pink not-yet-faded scar just above Mickey’s collarbone.

It’s nothing. Really. Mickey has plenty of other scars that are far more fucking impressive. He’s been shot for fuckssake, more than once. 

“Mickey. Is this– Did someone hold a fucking knife to your throat?”

Mickey huffs. Looks away. “Wasn’t a big fucking deal or anything–”

“Wasn’t a big deal?” 

“It wasn’t! Guy was just trying to prove a point.”

“He could have nicked a fucking artery!”

“He didn’t!” Mickey twists his wrists, trying to yank out of Ian’s now-even-fucking-tighter grasp, but Ian holds steady. Great. Now Mickey has to try and use his fucking words to calm Ian down, and fuck knows he’s never been good at that. “Ian, look, I’m fine. See? Totally fine. I barely even bled at all. Scar probably only looks so bad because I was shit at taking care of it and it was getting fucking blasted by the sun.”

Ian’s face crumples.

Fuck. “Ian–”

“I should have been there,” Ian says, and his voice is low. Angry. “I should have fucking been there. To take care of you. To keep you from getting hurt in the first place.”

Mickey finally manages to wrestle one of his hands free. He brings it up, smooths it through Ian’s hair, which is just as soft as ever. It looks different, but it feels the same. They both still feel the same. “Hey. It’s fine, man. I’m fine.” He twists his lips up. Cocks his brows. “Then again… not too late for you to take care of me now. Gonna kiss me better, hotshot?”

Ian looks at him for another long, slow moment. Breathes out a shaky breath. Finally fucking relaxes a bit. 

He leans in slow. Brushes his lips over the spot, soft enough to make Mickey shiver.

It’s Ian, and it’s Mickey, so it doesn't stay gentle for long. Ian’s kisses grow firmer, grow bolder, until he’s licking and sucking like he’s trying to cover up the mark with a mark of his own.

Mickey pants and hums and fucking wiggles. “Fuck. Ian. Need you.”

Ian’s hips jerk against his own, grinding them together just fucking right, before he pulls away again.

“Fuck. Ian,” Mickey huffs, nearly fucking whining at this point but too fucking desperate to care. 

“You have any other new scars I need to kiss better?”

He does. He has at least five from the past too-many-fucking-months, littered across his body along with his countless other scars. Ian will sniff them all out, he’s sure. But they’ve got time for that. That’s all they’ve fucking got now, is time, and Mickey’s never been happier to serve it. “Hm. You know, now that you mention it… I’ve got a pretty fucking serious case of blueballs, Nurse Gallagher.”

Ian snorts, loud and jarring and goofy as fuck, and it’s probably the sappiest fucking thing Mickey’s ever thought, but the sound of his laughter and the sight of his smile and the feel of his weight is more healing than any fucking kiss could ever be.

He still ain’t gonna turn down those kisses, though.

send me a number~

#prompt games #gallavich #my scribblings

[lvrdrafts]

Rescued by Love Epilogue

★ Summary: Your brother Steve always hated you after your mother's death and when he finally gets the family's empire he is ready to sell you off to some toxic marriage but will the knight and shining armor save you or make it worse?

★ Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader

★ Warnings: Arranged Marriage

★ Genre: Angst/ Fluff

Masterlist

The grand gala was the talk of the town, a glittering affair held in one of New York's most luxurious ballrooms. The city's elite had gathered there, draped in opulent gowns and tailored suits, to witness the unveiling of the mysterious newcomer in the South's burgeoning mafia world. Rumors had swirled for weeks about this enigmatic figure, someone who was rapidly amassing power and influence, even threatening the established crime families.

As the anticipation built in the lead-up to the gala, Bucky found himself standing with Steve in a quiet corner of the ballroom, their expressions a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

"You sure about this, Steve?" Bucky asked, his gaze scanning the elegantly dressed crowd. "You really think this new guy gonna show up here?"

Steve nodded, his eyes focused on the entrance. "Yeah, Buck, I'm pretty sure. My sources are usually spot-on about these things. Whoever this guy is, he's been making waves down South. The word is, he's looking to expand his reach, and he's already got some of the old families nervous."

Bucky's brow furrowed. "Any idea who he might be?"

Steve shrugged. "Not much to go on, really. The details are pretty scarce. But the way I hear it, he's strategic, smart, and ruthless. He's got people willing to follow him without question, and that's how he's been able to rise so quickly."

Bucky crossed his arms, his brow furrowing. "But why would he come all the way up here? And why would they even consider teaming up with us?"

Steve leaned in, his voice dropping to a hushed tone. "It's about strength, Bucky. This new guy wants to expand their reach, and allying with us would give them the backing they need. And in return, we'd gain access to their resources and connections."

Bucky's skepticism was evident. "Steve, I get the whole strength in numbers thing, but we don't even know who this guy is. He could be some hotshot rookie who's in over his head."

Steve nodded, acknowledging Bucky's concerns. "I know it's a risk, but sometimes you gotta take chances to come out on top. The potential rewards are too big to ignore."

Bucky let out a sigh, his uncertainty still lingering. "I just hope this guy shows up. I mean, what if he's got cold feet or something? We're all here waiting, and he might not even come through."

Steve gave Bucky a reassuring pat on the back. "Look, we'll know soon enough. And if he's half as smart as we think he is, he'll understand the benefits of this alliance. We just need to stay patient and keep our eyes open."

As the grand gala unfolded, the tension in the air seemed to thicken. Bucky and Steve continued to scan the crowd, their curiosity about the new mafia leader heightening with every passing moment. The anticipation reached a crescendo as the room fell into an expectant hush, all eyes locked onto the entrance.

And then, you walked in.

The room erupted into a mixture of gasps, whispers, and stunned silence. Bucky's eyes widened, his heart racing, as he watched you glide through the entrance with a confidence that commanded attention. He couldn't believe what he was seeing – you, his ex-wife, the last person he expected to be connected to the dangerous underworld they navigated.

As the shock spread through the crowd, Steve turned to Bucky, his own surprise evident in his expression. "Buck... is that...?"

Bucky's voice was barely a whisper as he confirmed the truth, his disbelief clear. "What she-she's been gone for so long it can't"

"Buck, I'm telling you, she's probably just the wife," Steve asserted, his tone condescending. "I mean, look at her. She's not exactly radiating power and authority. This whole setup screams 'arm candy' more than anything else."

Bucky's brows furrowed as he looked at Steve, his own doubts mixing with a growing frustration. He had kept his silence thus far, grappling with his own shock and uncertainty, but he couldn't let Steve's dismissive words go unanswered.

As Bucky approached you, his heart raced with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. He felt a rush of emotions seeing you again, especially in such unexpected circumstances.

Meanwhile, Steve's rant continued behind him, his words trailing off as he noticed Bucky's departure. "Buck, where are you going? You can't seriously be buying into this—"

But Bucky had already reached you, his gaze locking onto yours as he tried to read the truth in your expression. The chatter of the gala around them seemed to fade into the background as he stood before you, the weight of their shared history heavy in the air.

"Hey," Bucky began, his voice soft and uncertain. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Your silence seemed to stretch on for a moment before you finally spoke, your words cutting through the air with a chilling precision. "Bucky," you said, your tone icy. "It's not a crime to attend a gala, last time I checked."

Bucky felt his heart sink at your tone, the distance between you tangible. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Your gaze remained fixed on him, the coldness in your expression unwavering. "I have business," you replied simply, your tone leaving no room for further questions.

Bucky couldn't help but blurt out the question that had been nagging at him. "You joined the crime business? I thought you hated it." Bucky says with a growing smile on his face as a way to lighten the mood.

Your lips curved into a cold smile, and your response was laced with a sharpness that took him aback. "Noo who told you that." you said chuckling at his question "I just hated the way you and Steve acted the second you joined it, thinking you were big shit." you say still smiling knowing that the remark was gonna struck a nerve.

Before Bucky can respond, a man walks up to you whispering something into your ear and then guides you to a room, full of some of the biggest bosses the West has to offer.

As the night wore on, Bucky found himself watching you from a distance, unable to shake the unease that had settled in his chest. He knew he needed to make amends, to bridge the gap that had grown between you. And so, as the gala drew to a close and you seemed ready to leave, he made a decision.

He approached you with a determined stride, his words rushed and heartfelt. "Wait, I just... I wanted to say I'm sorry. For everything. I'm sorry I was the reason you left"

Your expression remained guarded, but there was a flicker of something in your eyes. Before you could respond, however, Steve appeared beside Bucky, his glare directed at you.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of regret. "I needed space, time to figure things out."

Bucky sighed, his eyes filled with understanding. "I'm so sorry. I should've been a better husband. I neglected you when you needed me the most."

His words hung in the air, heavy with remorse. The memories of your turbulent marriage and the pain it had brought resurfaced, but you could see the sincerity in his eyes, and it touched a chord within you.

"I've moved on, Bucky," you said, your voice tinged with compassion. "I've learned to be independent."

Bucky nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "You've done well for yourself."

You acknowledged his words with a nod, your gaze lingering on him for a moment before you turned to leave once more.

"Take care" Bucky called after you, his voice filled with a mix of longing and acceptance.

As you walked away, Steve couldn't resist adding a remark. "You know, there was a time when life was simpler, happier, before you came into it. You just got to ruin it by coming back"

Bucky snapped his head at Steve but before he could respond you turned to him to speak to Steve instead.

"Well, Steve," you retorted with a touch of irony, "I guess life's full of surprises, isn't it?."

With that parting shot, you left Steve behind, striding away from the gala without looking back. The night was filled with possibilities, and the outcome of your journey remained uncertain. In this world of shadows and secrets, you had no time for sentimental reflections on the past. You were determined to thrive, no matter the cost, leaving the complicated relationships of your history in your wake.

fin

@cjand10 @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @marvel-ous-miss-maisie @hereticdance @kentokaze @bruher @tupperwarefullofdirt @unaxv @learisa @emerald-writes @aya-fay @stinkerbelle007 @scifinerd1818 @paarthurnax59 @vickie5446 @almosttoopizza @kandis-mom @kittimbo @blackhawkfanatic @diannana @scuzmunkie @

#winter soldier x reader angst #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader angst

[ohtobeleah]

Bruises // Jake Seresin

Chapter Three: [In The Arms Of The Enemy]

Summary: Both you and Jake come face to face with the man you only know as ‘The Commander’ who you soon find out has very little patience for bullshit.

Series Warnings: Heavy themes of violence, sexual assault, torture. 18+ content. Minors DNI. Mature themes. Being held in captivity. Hostage style situation. Main character death! Whump, Angst. Conversations that discuss antisocial & antisemitism views.

Word Count: 4.6k

Author Note: THIS SERIES IS CONFRONTING, FICTIONAL, AND DEPICTS IMAGES OF TORTURE. DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT IF YOU BELIEVE THAT THIS SERIES WILL BE DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR MENTAL STABILITY. CURATE YOUR OWN TIMELINE.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Every Naval Aviator you had ever known had a shadow. A dark cloud of fear and doubt that followed even the best into the cockpit. Every day you’d pretend like the shadow wasn't there, it's what got you this far, hoping that if you went faster, pulled harder, mastered harder techniques, achieved more, did better, got stronger and knew enough knowledge to rival an F-18 Natop book, that the shadow would give in and give up the chase. 

“Hollywood.” But like they say, you can't out-run your shadow. “Hey hotshot, you okay?” Jake's voice was as angelic as an angel's whisper as it cut through the fog in your mind. You weren't sure where you were or how long you’d been out for. But what you did know is that you felt like crap. 

Jake watched through the bars of his cell as you made an attempt to get up onto your knees. You'd been lying face down in the dirt of the cell floor. Drooling to the point mud had begun to form where your cheek had been squished against the clay. Inhaling all kinds of nasty things. 

“There she is.” Jake beamed as he pressed himself up against the metal bars that kept him from you. “You're okay, just breathe alright.” Jake had been awake for a while now. He’d just been listening, taking in his surroundings before they had shoved you into your cell. Time was hard to tell, but Jake estimated you'd been on the ground unconscious for roughly twenty minutes. 

“Where are we?” You asked as you got up onto your knees. It was a little harder to achieve with your hands tied in front of you. The rope itself was pulled tight enough to give you pins and needles, but not hard enough to cut off blood flow completely. “Oh my god where the fuck are we!” It wasn't until you turned around in a panic that you saw it. You let out a blood curdling scream that came from the depths of your soul when your eyes landed on the dead body in the corner of your cell. Still tied up but very much dead.

“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD GET ME OUT OF HERE!” You cried as you fell back onto your ass and shuffled closer and closer to the bars that kept you apart. You didn't stop moving until your back collided with the metal. “Jake! Jake you have to get me out of here I can’t–I can't breathe!” 

“Hey, hey hey–shhh I got you, I've got you.” Jake tried his best to try and calm you down. He’d been looking at that same dead body for the better half of what he assumed to be an hour before they brought you in. “I'm right here with you, okay?” 

“Oh god oh god oh god oh god.” It was the only thing you could say as you felt Jake right behind you. He did what he could to try and comfort you, but his own hands were tied in front of him. The same as yours. No matter how much he tried he couldn't squeeze his arms in through the gaps in the bars. He could probably get one, but not two. Not tied at the wrist like this. 

“Don't look at her.” Jake cooed, his voice still as calm as ever. Level headed as can be in a time like this. “Hey, Hollywood, don't look at her, turn around and look at me.” He asked softly as he stayed right behind you, right in your ear so you could hear him, so he could make sure you could hear him through the panic. Through the fear. “Turn around and look at me Y/n, just me.” 

It took everything you had to peel your eyes away from the woman slumped in the corner of your cell. It took everything you had to turn around and face Jake Seresin as he kneeled on the dirt of his own cell. Face to face with you up against the bars. 

“We’re gonna get out of here–” It was a vastly different take on the matter to what you had to say. “I'm gonna get you out of here, I promise.” 

“Noone knows where we are, we don't even know where we are.” You sobbed as Jake reached through the bars as much as he could to grip your hands in his. “I'm so scared.” 

“I'm scared too.” Jake admitted as he held your hands in his. “But we’ve gotta be smart here alright, you don't show them you're scared because the minute they see you're scared they’ll use it against you.” You understood the logic, but how the hell were you supposed to mask this? “And when they come back, which they will, you don't struggle.” Only then did Jake sound scared. Although he’d told you he was, he didn't sound it. If anything he sounded as confident as he did all the time. “You don't give them a reason to hurt you okay and I promise I will get you out of here.” 

All you did was nod as you tried to silence your sobbs. Jake had never seen you cry before, now he’d seen you cry enough for a lifetime. The thought of you being in this situation with him killed him. It was always him, just him. Jake had always flown solo. He’d never gone down in enemy territory before. And he hated that the time he did he took down his Weapons System Officer too. 

“Who is she?” You asked softly as you tried to calm down. “The woman.” Jake had had more time than you to try and figure that question out. He had an idea, but he wasn't entirely sure. 

“She's a pilot.” Jake answered hesitantly but he knew you'd figured that much out yourself. “I can't see you patch though.” It was Jake's very polite way of asking if you could take a look. He didn't want to ask you out right knowing how much fear coursed through your veins, but when you nodded he knew you got what he was asking. 

Jake watched as you stood, using the support of the bars to help you up. Things were so difficult with your arms tied in front of you. Jake did the same thing, he sat on his ass and pushed himself up. Your cell seemed so much smaller than it did a second ago. With Jake whispering in your ear that everything would be alright the dead body seemed a million miles away. Now? Now it seemed as though she was at your feet before you'd even taken three steps. 

“You’re okay.” Jake reminded you as he watched you step closer. “I'm right here with you.” It wasn't true, but it was nice to hear. You crouched down in front of her. The woman who was dead in your cell. It didn't look like she had been gone for too long. Her skin was cool to the touch but there was no rotting smell. The smell you think about when you think of dead bodies. “Can you see anything?” 

They must have wanted you to investigate, maybe they wanted you to know who it was. Because her uniform looked as if it had been washed, cleaned and dried of the blood they surely spilled over it. Her patches were all still there, including her callsign. 

“Dutchess.” You frowned as you looked at the patches and callsign on her uniform. Struggling to understand how she ended up here. “It's Captain Sarah ‘Dutchess’ Hewens.” Jake had heard about the missing Captain that had been reported missing in action just shy of four months ago. You all had. It had been the scuttle butt across every naval station. How she ended up here he’d never know, but you had a theory. “Jake, we were ambushed.” You turned around with fear in your eyes as you rose to your feet. “They had to have known we were coming because the second we were in that canyon they were on us.” 

It had all been such a blur Jake hadn’t even thought about it. All he was thinking about was trying to get out alive. He was thinking about his wingman, Rooster. Never once did the thought of an ambush cross his mind. But evidently it had crossed yours. Which made you the best WSO Jake had ever known. 

“You think Dutchess tried to trade intel for her life?” Jake asked as he stood by the bars. He wanted nothing more than to be in the same cell as you. He couldn't protect you with bars stopping him from getting to you. 

“I think she did whatever she had to do in order to survive.” You said exactly what Jake had just in a more forgiving way. “They knew we were coming because Dutchess told them hoping it would keep her alive, how else would they have known we were coming?” 

As you looked at Jake through the bars of your cell and he looked back at you with the same realisation and disbelief evident all over his face, you remembered he was struck on the back of the head. 

“Are you okay?” The softness in your voice was a stark contrast to the anger you had just before explaining your theory on the ambush. “Your head?” 

“You don’t have to worry about me hotshot.” Jake sent you that signature grin everyone loved. “But for the record? I’m fine.” 

“How about off the record?” Jake wasn’t expecting you to care so much. He thought for sure you’d want to kill him yourself for getting you into this mess. But you didn’t seem to pass blame. “I saw what that guy did to you. It must have hurt like a bitch.” It was then Jake let out the smallest of chuckles to himself as he nodded in response. 

“Off the record i've got a little bit of a headache but it's nothing I can't handle.” Jake explained as he stood face to face with you at the bars that kept you apart. “What about you? How're the ribs?” There was something about Jake that brought you comfort. If you were here alone you probably would have already given up. But when he looked at you like you were the only light that could guide him out of this hellscape–you couldn't help but to feel just a little special. Even in the darkest of times. 

“Yeah, no they’re fucked.” Your complete honesty made the pair of you laugh for just a fleeting moment. With that laughter came a little bit of reprieve, it made you feel even just for a second that you were at the Hard Deck just trying to fit in. It made you believe as you closed your eyes and revealed in the sweet sweet sound of Jake Seresins laugh that you were looking at him looking at you from across the bar. 

But then you opened your eyes and you were still in hell. 

“They hurt, but like you said, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” Your eyes trailed down from Hangman's eyes to watch as he pressed his lips together in a fine line. He was unsure, unsure if you were alright. Unsure of everything. “How the hell are we gonna get outta here Jake?” 

“I don’t know.” He sighed, letting his forehead rest against yours through the bars. “But I promise you I’ll figure that out.” You knew there was no way he could ever really promise that, but still you believed him. “Trust me, you and I? We weren’t born to die. We’re Hangman and Hollywood.” Jake tried to get you to smile as fresh tears began to stream down your cheeks. “Hollywood and Hangmans story doesn’t end in some dingy cell in some unknown territory.” 

“When exactly does our story end?” You asked as you felt Jake raise his hands up from in front of him to gently touch your chin. 

“After this? Hopefully old and gray in some retirement villages where we can spend our days bickering over the fact that we should have sued for a hell of a lot more than we end up suing for.” That made you smile, it made the corners of your lips turn into your cheeks. “It doesn’t end here.” 

Every Naval Aviator has a shadow. And the only way to get rid of a shadow–is to turn off the lights, stop running from the darkness—and face what you fear. Head on. 

You had no choice but to face your fears when your smile was ripped right off your face when the wheels of your cell door opening echoed throughout your cell. Jake felt you go stiff, he noticed how you held whatever little breath was in your lungs and he saw how fear took over your entire being. 

“Don’t give them a reason to hurt you.” Jake mumbled as he stayed put. He wasn’t leaving the bars. If this was as close as he could get then so be it. He wasn’t moving. “I’m right here.” 

“Let’s go.” The Insurgent ordered as you stepped away from the bars and made your way towards where he stood with arms crossed and feet spread slightly. He was built and tall and once again clothed head to toe in black clothing. Leaving you no way to identify the man. “Did you enjoy getting to know your cellmate?” He asked with an evil laugh that would have made the devil himself shiver as he gripped your arm hard. “She was my favourite.” He drew you closer so that you were as close as you could get. He snickered deeply as he inhaled your scent, you swore he could smell your fear. “But something tells me you’ll be a little more fun to torment.” 

“Okay Buddy let’s go.” All the while Jake was watching you, he didn’t notice his own guard coming to the door of his cell. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Jake argued as he turned around to face the guard. “Where the hell are we!? what are you doing with her!?” It was hard to watch but it happened quicker than you could look away. “Ahhh!” Jake fell to his knees as the guard in his cell tased his side. Sending volts of electricity through his body that he couldn’t fight. 

“Jake!” You tried to rush to his aid but the man who had come for you held you back against his chest and placed a rough hand over your mouth. 

“I swear to god if I didn’t have orders to keep you alive I’d smear your guts along the walls of this fucking cell.” He hissed before spinning you around only to shove you out of your cell into the hall. “Now fucking walk, I don’t wanna have to tell you again.” 

“What are you going to do to him?” Although you were being shoved out into the corridor your eyes wouldn’t leave Jake as he laid fetal style on the dirt floor of his cell. “I asked you a question!” Your insubordination cost you a slap across the face hard enough to nearly crack your neck. Jake heard it, the other guard heard it. 

“God I wanna fuck the fire out of this one.” The guy manhandling you snickered at his partner. 

“Not yet.” Was all the guy who was towering over Jake replied. You watched with a whine as he brought his leg back only to kick Jake and kick Jake hard right in his gut while he was down. “Take her to The Commander.” Again there was a harsh kick that had Jake groaning in unbearable pain, but all you could do was watch and take in small identifiable features of your captors. 

Deep voices, tall, the hand that had wrapped itself around your mouth was caucasian, the size boot of the guard kicking Jake had to have at least been a ten or more. Small, hopefully valuable pieces of a much larger puzzle. 

“Is that all you’ve got, big guy?” You heard Jake laugh as he tried to get up off the ground as you were being ushered along. You saw it coming the second his arrogance slips past his tongue. That same taser that had jolted Jake in his side was now pressed into his neck. 

“JAKE!” There was no answer, no response or sign of life as you rounded the corner struggling. “Let go of me!” It was everything he’d told you not to do. “Let go of me!” But you needed to fight. “I’m not going anywhere with you!” It was then again you were hit with that same paralytic as before, a sharp sting followed by a quick burning sensation left your vision darkened and distorted before you were falling to your knees. 

Unable to move and unable to fight. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

When you’re little, nighttime is scary because there are monsters hiding right under your bed. When you get older, the monsters are different. Self doubt, loneliness, regret. And though you may be older and wiser–you still find yourself scared of the dark. 

The room you woke up in was dark and all consuming but just from the smell alone seemed cleaner than the grim covered cell you’d just been dragged from. All at once, all the lights were in—blinding you in bright white light. 

“I’m sorry my men had to get so physical with you so soon into your stay with us.” You heard a man speak from the corner of the room. “I’m hoping once we have a chat about what exactly it is you and your comrade are doing here that I’ll be able to tell them to be a little less hostile.” He spoke calmly, level headed. 

“Who are you?” You strained against the restraints keeping you down on the chair you found yourself in. 

“You can call me The Commander.” Was all he said as he stalked around the room. To your surprise the more your eyes allowed the light in, the more you came to realise he was on full display. No dark clothes, no hidden identity. Just a simple man in a simple suit. He looked well kept, clean and shaven. Like he had just come off Wall Street. “And what can I call you in return?” He asked politely enough as he sat down on the edge of a barron desk. 

“Hollywood.” You simply croaked out. He nodded in a sign of gratitude. You were still assessing your situation. 

“You and your friend seem to have been flying a little too far away from home don’t you think?” The room you were in smelt of chemical cleaner and notes of bourbon. The bourbon must have been from The Commander himself. 

“Well the US hasn’t always been known for keeping within its sovereign borders.” You sighed, still coming to. “Has it.” The Commander chuckled at your wit as he stalked towards you. 

“Still doesn’t answer my question Hollywood?” He reminded you as he towered over your still sitting body. He was harsh as he gripped at your face to make sure you were looking up at him. “Why are you here?” 

“The google reviews on your accommodation package need some updating.” You answered proudly. “Only reason I’m here is because the reviews said the rooms were bright and spacious.” It earned it a fist to the side of the face. “Ahh!”

“I’m not a patient man.” The Commander explained as he remained towering over you. “I’ll get what I want and I’ll go to any lengths to get it.” He paused as he bent over to level with you. “Just ask Captain Hewens.” The look on your face must have been enough to tell The Commander exactly what he needed to know. That you weren’t so confident after all. “It’s simple, you give me what I want and I won’t kill your friend.” At the mere mention of Jake your heart rate increased enough to send heat racing to your cheeks as you strained against your restraints. “Bring him in.” The Commander ordered as double doors that rivaled something straight out of an asylum busted open.

The two guards, you’d decided to nickname them dumb and dumber, dragged Jake in. They both carried his weight with one arm each as his head slumped and his head hung low. 

“Oh my god.” You gasped at the sight of Jake before you. He was beaten pretty badly, to the extent where his face was all swollen and cut up. “Jake—“ 

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He made sure to let you know. 

“Now you see Hollywood, I’m in search of information that might aid me in the process of furthering my reach across the globe.” You weren’t all that focused on the explanation you were being given, all you could focus on was Jake at your feet, lying on his back looking up at you. 

“But before we move onto that, I need to know what exactly the two of you were sent here to do.” The Commander walked across the room to pick up a single knife. “And you’re going to tell me just what your government sent you here to do.” The Commander lingered on his explanation as he made his way over to where Jake laid on the ground at your feet, spent and just trying to catch his breath. “You’re going to answer some of my questions and if you don’t I’m gonna slit the Lieutenant's throat.” 

“Don’t you touch him.” Sleep. It's the easiest thing to do. “Don’t.” You hissed as you watched the Commander crouch down to lift Jake's head up by his blood stained hair. Jake laughed in a way you’d never heard him laugh before. It was nearly insane sounding. 

“Jokes on you, I like having my hair pulled.” You caught the moment Jake sent you a struggled wink before he rammed the back of his head right against The Commander's nose. The crack was unreal—it echoed off the walls as he stumbled back a few steps and cupped at his nose. “But usually by pretty women.” Again there was a wink, Jake's arrogance was shining through the imminent peril the two of you were in.  

For a guy who looked as if he’d been beaten within an inch of his life, Jake moved pretty quick. He sprung up onto his feet and swung at The Commander the second he got a chance to. 

You winced as Jake tackled The Commander to the ground, the knife in his handle went sliding across the floor in a spectacular fashion, catching the fluorescent light as it twirled around. 

“Piece of shit!” It was pure anger as Jake let The Commander have it. He straddled the well kept man’s waist as he landed punch after punch after punch. “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?” 

You knew it was over before it even started the second the hospital style double doors opened with a boisterous thud once again. Three men dressed head to toe in dark clothing entered the room with quick haste. One made his way over to you while the other two raced over to where Jake was giving the Commander his all. 

Sleep. You just close your eyes and drift away. But for so many people, sleep seems out of their grasp.

You want it, so bad, but you don't know how to get it. How to obtain such a hot commodity.

“Get off of me!!” Jake spat as he was hoisted off the man in the suit with soulless eyes and an empty heart. “Get the fuck off me!” He was made to kneel as his arms were held out. When Jake had actually stopped fighting his heart sank into his stomach. 

There you were—strapped to the chair with one of the men holding a gun to your temple. Jake watched as your bottom lip quivered and your eyes welled with tears. You’d cried so many tears. 

“I’ll start easy shall I?” The Commander spat blood as he rose to his feet and fixed his suit jacket. “Names, I want both your names.” His tone had changed, The Commander was angry, no doubt about it. “Don’t answer and I’ll kill her right now, right in front of you.” 

“Don’t tell them anything.” Jake looked at you like you were the only one in the room. “I’m right here, it’s okay.” 

“WHAT ARE YOUR NAMES!” 

“I’m not telling you shit!” Jake swore time stood still as he watched the guard behind you move the gun from your temple and fired one single shot into your upper thigh. Your screams could have burst his eardrums as you cried out in shock and pain. The realisation set in quickly that they were serious—it wasn’t just a bluff. Jake and his actions had gotten you shot.

“I’ll give you one last chance to tell me exactly who you are before I blow her fucking brains out right here right now.” Jake's knees felt weak as deep crimson began to seep into your flight suit. This was real, holy shit this was really fucking real. 

“My name is Lieutenant Jacob ‘Hangman’ Seresin, and the woman you just shot is Lieutenant Y/N ‘Hollywood’ Y/L/N.” Jake explained as guilt flooded his broken and battered system. He stayed kneeling on the ground before you as your painful cries filled the silence. 

“Good.” The Commander was satisfied enough. “Someone run their files, I want addresses, stations, friends and family names, you name it.” He added as he gestured for his guards to let Jake go. “Let her go.” He nodded before the man with the gun lowered his weapon. You felt like you could breathe once again. “Someone get me a suture kit and rubbing alcohol.” 

It was all getting blurry, the voices, the room. Blood was pouring out of your thigh at a rate you recognized to be dangerous. Jake moved over to where you sat, now unrestrained. He assessed your thigh before placing his hands on your cheeks to wipe away your tears. 

“I’m so sorry—“ It was an apology bathed in the deepest of sympathies. The Commander watched as Jake kneeled between your legs. It sparked an idea inside his mind that would make it a hell of a lot easier to get the information he needed. 

“I hope you’ve got steady hands there Lieutenant Seresin.” The Commander snickered as he rolled his cuffs up. “Wouldn’t want your partner bleeding out.” It didn’t take Jake long at all to figure out what was happening, because the moment he was handed the suture kit? He knew he was going to have to get used to your agonising whimpers. “Try not to make her scream too much, I’ve got a fucking headache.” 

“I’m really tired.” You mumbled as your head fell forward against Jake's shoulder. He did his best to hold back his own tears as you worked to cup his hand over the bleeding. The other held the back of your head as he turned to kiss your temple softly. “Jake—“ 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He spoke as softly as ever as the Commander and his insurgents left the clean near sterile room. Leaving just you and Jake behind. “I’m gonna fix you up, don’t worry, you can rest.” 

“Mmmm—don’t ever try to be a hero again.” Jake nodded as he let out a painful sob. This wasn’t what he had signed up for. This wasn’t part of the mission parameters. 

“Just stay with me Hollywood.” Sleep, it didn’t always come easy. But once you face your demons, face your fears, and turn to each other for help–night time isn't all that scary. “I’ve got you.” It was the last thing you heard before everything went dark. But you felt a comfort, a warm embrace that kept you safe. 

Why? Because you realised soon enough that you weren’t all alone in the dark.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags 🏷️ @americaarse @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh @athenabarnes @imaginecrushes @whyareallnamesgone @mjmaximoffbarnes @amiets2 @mads-weasley @gabbyella @ephemeralninon @xoxabs88xox @pedrohoe04 @starkleila @je-suis-prest-rachel @clancycucumber230 @maisie-rebloging-blog @callsign-barbell @obiwankenobis-lap @some-lovely-day @paperbag333 @callsign-magnolia @jhiddles03 @hardballoonlove @shanimallina87 @seitmai i @abaker74 @missemrose @starset21 @kmc1989 @phoenix1388 @emma8895eb @tsofo26 @itsmytimetoodream

#bruises // jake seresin #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin whump

[unhappycylinder]

Saunter (Nick 'Goose' Bradshaw x fem!Reader)

wc: 3.5k No warnings! Enjoy and please let me know what you think!! Summary: As Viper's secretary, you encounter a new set of hotshot pilots every 6 weeks, but a certain WSO catches your eye, and you can't help but fall for him...and his mustache.

---

“You boys are grounded! Until further notice, neither of your asses are gonna be up in the air under any circumstance,” Viper’s voice cut through the office, sending a chill down your spine.

You had been a secretary at North Island’s ‘Fighter Weapons School’ for some time now, hopping from admiral to commander when duty saw fit. Usually, you found yourself sitting at some small, beige, creaky, metal desk a couple feet in front of one of the higher-ups’ offices, your sole purpose fetching coffee and checking in the arrogant pilots who got called in to get their asses whooped. 

Two weeks ago however, when you got assigned to the beige desk outside of Viper’s office, you realized just how much business these Top Gun men meant. Every other day it seemed the same two sweaty idiots were wandering past your desk, muttering their callsigns with their heads low, and returning after a screaming fit from Viper, heads held even lower. You had never said a word to them, never really even lifted your head to notice them, just shrugged them off as another pair of cocky assholes who flew too close to the sun.

“Maverick, this is your last warning!” Viper yelled

“Yeesh,” you muttered under your breath, the tip of your pencil swirling over the name ‘Maverick’ scribbled into your ledger.

“And Goose,” Viper said quieter, almost disappointedly, “You’re a good backseater, you’re a gifted flyer, you gotta stop letting an idiot like Maverick play with your life like that,” he finished with an almost fatherly tone.

“Final warning boys,” Viper sighed, “do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir,” their voices intersected each other, morale completely defeated.

You found yourself tracing the two o’s in Goose’s name when the also creaky door to Viper’s office opened, startling you enough to look over to the two men coming out, heads low. The one in front was shorter, strong build, jet black hair, and the other was tall, lanky, blonde, and had a mustache…and boy were you a sucker for a good mustache.

“That sounded brutal,” you said quietly, your eyes darting to the taller one’s briefly, catching his gaze and sending a blush through your cheeks.

“Brutal doesn’t even begin to describe it,” the shorter one said, his palms darting up to cover his eyes, “ugh Goose what the hell are we gonna do?”

So that was his name. He was Goose, Viper’s so called ‘gifted flier.’

“What are we gonna do?” Goose questioned, revealing his sweet lilted voice, “Mav I love you buddy but only one of us is flying the plane…what we do up there is kinda on you.” He sounded defeated, like he felt bad for having to reality check his best friend after such a serious conversation with Viper.

“Yeah, yeah,” Maverick shrugged him off, walking instead over to the front of your desk, “hey you’re here all the time right?” 

Was he asking you? You looked up from your ledger to meet his hooded blue eyes.

“Me?” You asked, surprised, eliciting a chuckle from Goose

“Yeah, you.” Maverick responded, “you’re outside of Viper’s office all the time…does he get this pissed at all his pilots?”

“Well,” you looked down at your ledger to read his name, “Maverick,” you turned to Goose, “and Goose,” he smiled at you saying his name, “I’ve been here for all of two weeks, but I can say with absolute certainty that neither has anyone come in as frequently as you two, nor has anyone gotten Viper as riled up…”

Maverick hung his head as Goose walked over to him, patting him on the back.

“Motherfucker!” Maverick yelled, slamming his fist down on your desk, making it rattle and sending your pencil from your hand.

Goose bent down to pick up your pencil, standing to place it delicately in your hand and greet you with his tender gaze and warm smile, his teeth barely peeking through his mustache.

“You’ll have to excuse my dear friend Maverick here,” he said sarcastically, placing his hands on his friend’s shoulders to guide him up from your desk, “he’s had a bit of a rough day and unfortunately likes to handle that by making rash decisions that put everyone’s lives in danger,” Goose pat him on the back with a chuckle

“That’s about what I’ve gathered from all your little conversations in there,” you said as you gestured to Viper’s office.

“You’ve heard all those, have you?”

“Oh yeah,” you chuckled, “probably a little more than I’d like to, Goose”

He blushed as you said his name again, a smile peeking through his mustache once more.

“Well, I better be getting this flyboy home so he can forget today ever happened,” he said as he slapped Maverick’s chest, making him groan in annoyance, “ain’t that right honey?”

“As much as I love your company, I’m hoping I don’t see either of you again, for the sake of your careers,” you said, making Goose chuckle and Maverick groan again.

“My name’s y/n by the way,” you said quickly as they started to shuffle away, but they didn’t seem to hear you.

“What was that?” Goose asked, turning around and leaning back so he could face you

“Oh,” you blushed, mostly out of embarrassment, “I said my name is y/n”

“Y/n” Goose repeated, your name rolling off his tongue sending chills down your spine, “I like it…I think I’ll remember it”

You laughed, shooting them a small salute as Goose turned around and walked with his best friend to the parking lot, leaving you alone to question how you couldn’t stop thinking about a certain naval aviator. 

“Y/n!” Viper’s yell cut you out of your daydream, spinning you around in your chair to face him

“Yes sir?”

“Fix this damn door when you’re done fawning over my flyers, it's too damn creaky! 

“Oh god,” you blushed, making Viper chuckle, “yes sir”

“Listen Y/n,” his tone changed, returning to the normal calm voice you were used to when he talked to you, “I’m fine with it…as long as it's not Maverick”

“It's definitely not Maverick sir”

“So it's Goose then?”

“Why are you asking me about this, sir?” you couldn’t help but question him. You had been working with Viper for weeks now and although he had always been friendly towards you, and you had shared a few conversations in between meetings here and there, he had never asked you anything personal.

“Because I’ve been standing here since you botched telling Goose your name…and it’s hard not to notice.”

“Oh god have you actually?”

“You were so flustered you didn’t even hear the door creak…” he clicked his tongue, “I guess I’ll have to find more reasons to bring Bradshaw in here then…” he taunted as he turned around and walked back into his office, closing the very creaky door behind him.

–

“You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your liiips,” a warped voice sang from within the bar next to base. 

You had talked yourself into going out and trying to make some friends, and the best place for that just so happened to be the bar a mere 2 blocks from your work. It had been months since you moved here and you still knew virtually nobody outside of Viper who you guessed counted as a friend now? You had let your hair down after work, and had swapped your suit jacket and skirt out for high waisted jeans and a light sweater. Nothing fancy, but also nothing that screamed military, just something that would help you blend in a bit.

The awful voice continued to sing, now joined by what sounded like twenty other equally awful voices, “You’ve lost that lovin feelin!”

“Oh god,” you thought to yourself, wondering how you planned on accomplishing anything in there.

Once you were inside you saw a crowd of navy men in their dress whites dissipating from the bar, some laughing, some continuing to sing the remainder of the song. At the epicenter of it all was none other than Maverick. Of course. Sitting next to him was a rather flushed blonde woman wearing a very similar outfit to you, and Maverick was obviously trying to work his charm.

Your gaze traveled from Maverick to other parts of the room, glancing at couples sitting in booths along the walls, aviators trying to chat up women at tables scattered around, and lone men in white nursing their beers throughout the bar. Eventually your eyes settled on one blonde, mustached man in particular, Goose. He was sat at the opposite end of the bar as Maverick, beer in hand, eyes wandering the label of the bottle.

This was your chance. 

You sauntered over, hands deep in the pockets of your jeans fiddling with the fabric. Goose didn’t even look up when you approached him, too lost in the contents of his beer to even notice your presence, you just stood there amused, watching him lost in thought.

“Evenin’ sailor,” you said softly, a blush creeping along your cheeks as Goose’s eyes drifted up the barrel of the bottle, up your frame, and eventually to your eyes.

“Well I’ll be damned!” He beamed, scooting over and patting the bar stool beside him, “if it isn’t miss secretary herself.”

“You keep calling me that and I’m gonna think you forgot my name, Chicken,” you teased as you purposefully messed up his callsign, eliciting a sweet melodic laugh from his lips.

“How could I ever forget a name as beautiful as y/n,” he said as he tilted his head down, his eyes looking up at yours through his lashes.

“Well well, the Goose has a good memory,” you smiled, flagging down the bartender to order a beer for yourself

“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” you said, resting your elbows on the bartop

“Put it on my tab,” Goose interjected, shooting a quick wink your way

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to flirt with me sir,” you shot him a suspicious look

“Well who says I’m not?” Goose asked, shooting the same look your way

“I just find it hard to flirt with a man who’s only identification is the name of a bird” you said sarcastically, accepting your beer from the bartender and taking a sip

“Lieutenant Nicholas Brashaw, callsign Goose,” he drawled out, holding his hand out for you to shake

“Y/n L/n, secretary” you said with the same tone, placing your hand in his

Goose brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of it, his mustache hairs tickling your skin and giving you a chill.

“So, Nick, I gotta ask you,” you began as soon as Goose let your hand go

“Shoot,” he prompted you, taking a sip of his beer

“Why on earth do you all let Maverick sing if he’s so damn bad at it?”

Goose threw his head back in a laugh, “It's a bet.”

“A bet?”

“Twenty bucks…he’s gotta have carnal knowledge of a lady on the premises…and that is our top selling approach”

“Top selling huh? So you’ve done this before?”

“Once for Mav, he crashed and burned…never for me though”

“And why not? The bet doesn’t extend both ways?”

“Well I guess it's cause you weren’t here to catch my eye,” he smiled a confident smile at you, “had I seen you sitting across the bar all by yourself, well it wouldn’t have been Mav up there singing today”

“Oh you would have done that for me?” You chuckled

“Honey I’ll sing you whatever song you want whenever you want it”

“You’re one smooth man Goose,” you smiled at him, he smiled back, making you both blush.

Just as Goose was about to speak, the blonde woman from earlier walked by, fixing her lipstick with her finger

“Your friend was magnificent by the way,” she chimed as she walked by, causing your and Goose’s mouths to drop. Maverick followed close behind, a spring in his step.

“Nah,” Goose said, his eyes on the woman, “nah!” he said even louder as his eyes found his best friend.

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” you said stunned, turning to face Maverick as he approached you and Goose.

“What can I say,” Maverick shrugged, a cocky smile plastered on his face.

“There’s no way,” Goose said, mouth agape, “there’s really no way Mav”

“Where there’s a will, Goosey, there’s a way,” Maverick said, slapping Goose on the shoulder, “I see you’ve found our secretary from earlier”

You tilted your beer up to cheer Mav, who was now sitting on Goose’s other side.

“You know Goose here hasn’t shut up about you-”

“No no no no,” Goose turned to face him, placing a hand over Maverick’s mouth, “we don’t need to talk about that Mav, we don’t need to bring that up I don’t think”

“Oh yes we do Goose,” he muttered through Goose’s hand.

“No, Goose, let him talk,” you bit your lip as you smiled at Maverick, “I want to hear what he has to say about you”

“The woman wants to hear,” Maverick muttered

“Mav, it's not happening. I’ll stay here all night if I have to”

“Goose!” You whined, “I want to know!”

Maverick pried Goose’s hand from his mouth for enough time to blurt out, “hasn’t shut up about you since we left base today! Said he thinks you’re gorgeous!”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Goose said, getting up and facing his best friend, “that’s it, Mav, you’re a dead man”

“Awww,” you chuckled as Goose grabbed Maverick by his collar and threw him off his stool, sending Maverick into a laughing fit nearby,

“Pretend you didn’t hear any of that,” Goose said as he sat back down

“That’s not happening” you said as you shook your head

“And why not?”

“Cause I’ve been thinking the same thing,” you blushed. Maverick returned in time to slap his friend on the back in congratulations.

“Yeehaw!” Goose exclaimed, his cheeks burning red and his smile beaming towards you. You couldn’t help but smile back at him.

–

Now you were sat at your desk, pencil in your hand, waiting to check in whoever Viper was gonna sink his teeth into next. Your mind however was replaying the events of several nights ago, when you and Maverick and Goose became a sort of inseparable trio at the bar: Goose’s sweet flirtations filling your ears every chance he got, and his arm swung around the back of your seat in Maverick’s car as they drove you to your house, and Goose’s gentle kiss on your hand as he said goodnight to you.

“Goodmorning ma’am,” a voice cut you out of your daze. Your eyes traced up the slender frame to Goose, a goofy smile plastered on his face.

“Morning lieutenant,” you spoke softly, “am I meant to check you in? You and Maverick get up to trouble again?”

Goose laughed, “no, no, Mav left his ego at home today and we landed early, so I wanted to stop by and say hi”

“Well hi,” you blinked up at him

“Hi” he said back confidently, “listen I was hoping you’d want to uh-”

“Bradshaw!” Viper’s voice rang from the other side of the door.

“Oh god,” you laughed, eyes darting down to your ledger

“I'm in for it now honey,” Goose said as he stood up straight and prepared for Viper’s reprimanding

“Lieutenant,” he began, the squeaking of the door muffling his words, “you're not distracting my secretary are you?”

“I hope not sir”

“I don't know if I believe you Bradshaw. Whether or not distraction was your intention, she looks pretty distracted to me,” Viper smiled down at you

“Sir,” you shook your head as you plopped your face into your hands to conceal your blush

“She was working perfectly before you arrived Lieutenant, and now she can't even lift her head high enough to read what's on the page in front of her!” Viper yelled sarcastically, gesturing to you, “you better right your wrongs or I'll have you and that hotshot pilot of yours grounded for another week!”

Viper spun around, shooting you a wink as you raised your head from your hands, and closed the door to his office, satisfied with his work. 

“Well…” you began

“Commander's orders miss L/n…what could I possibly do to rectify the situation,” Goose jokingly pondered

“Hmmm let's think,” you said, twirling your pen

“How's about I take you out…” Goose blushed, his mustache curling up into a smile, “on a date.”

“A date?” You teased

“Yeah. Just you and me. No idiot Maverick to tease us the whole time,” he smiled

“Yeah Bradshaw, I’d like that”

“You free tonight honey?” He drawled

“Pick me up at six Lieutenant, not a minute later,” you shook your pencil at him

With a salute and a “yes ma'am,” Goose was walking down the hallway head held high.

–

5:59 the clock blinked as you sat in front of it, makeup and hair done, a light blue slip dress gently hugging your frame. This had felt like the longest minute of your life, sitting in front of your digital clock just waiting for the minute to change and Goose to arrive.

6:00 blinked and your heart started racing uncontrollably. The noise of it thumping was so loud it just about drowned out the knocking at your door. Breathing sharply to calm down, you stood up and smoothed out your dress, heading slowly towards the front door.

Opening it, your eyes scanned up Goose’s frame, taking in his pressed khaki pants, his white button down tucked into it, sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone, and his mustache curled up into a smile.

“My goodness,” he hollered, “don’t you look mighty fine darlin”

“Back at ya flyboy,” you blushed

“You ready for the best date of your life?” Goose asked, his soft eyes gazing down into yours.

“I’ve been thinking about it all day, Viper hasn’t heard the end of it,” you said as you locked your door and followed Goose to his bronco.

“Is that right, sugar?” He asked as he helped you into the passenger seat, goofy smile curling his mustache

“Oh yeah Lieutenant”

“Even the part about Viper?” He asked as he walked around to the driver’s seat and hopped in

“Especially the part about Viper. You better be on your best behavior or he’ll be hot on your tail,” you joked

“Ah-ha,” Goose hollered.

Goose drove you two down the sunset-lit road, gentle rock music playing from his stereo, his aviators resting gently on the bridge of his nose as his hand grasped the headrest of your seat. 

–

Your date with Goose was full of laughter, good food, many drinks, and even more flirting. He told you the story of how he joined the Navy, and how he met Maverick in training and they became attached at the hip, and even how he was nervous about Maverick’s flying sometimes but he trusted him with his life. He asked you all about yourself, and as you told him about your upbringing and your career and your family, he sat with his head in his hands staring at you with bright eyes and curiosity. You loved listening to him talk about himself, and from the looks of him it seemed he felt the same about you. 

After offering to pay multiple times, Goose finally wore you down as he set cash, plus a generous tip, down on the table. 

“Thanks Goose,” you said genuinely, grabbing his hand in your own and looking him deep in the eyes.

“Anything for you, sugar,” he returned your gaze with a smile, his mustache curling over his lip, “ready to hit the road?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, keeping your hand in his as you stood up from your booth and walked towards the door, “where to next?”

“If it's not too forward,” he began, leaning down to speak softly into your ear once you exited the restaurant, “and tell me if it is…but I was hoping you’d want to come back to my place for a little?”

“And what exactly is there to do at your place?” You feigned confusion.

Goose simply shrugged, a smirk threatening his lips, as he walked to the passenger side of his car and opened the door for you. 

“Never leave room for the imagination, Bradshaw,” you muttered, getting in the car and watching Goose saunter around to the driver’s side.

With a smile on his face, Goose’s hand traveled across the center console until it found yours, his fingers gently lacing with yours as his thumb rubbed gentle circles while you drove the short distance back to Goose’s house.

–

#top gun #top gun fic #top gun goose #nick goose bradshaw x reader #goose x reader #nick goose bradshaw #goose bradshaw #goose top gun #nick bradshaw x reader #nick bradshaw

[deepouterspacecandy]

Whispering Pines: Part Two

Coming at you with an extremely fluffy second chapter, but as always, it’s 18+ only over here. Thank you so much for the comments and support so far. It elevates the writing experience for me to know my mushy heart is welcomed.

Abby sprints with all her might towards the shore, the sound of her pounding footsteps and ecstatic shouts causing birds and squirrels to scatter from their branches. The sheer happiness radiating from her is contagious, and the sight of the water crashing around her powerful body makes your cheeks sting.

Without hesitation, she plunges headfirst into the lake, disappearing into its depths. Your heart races until she finally emerges.

She is much farther out than you would ever venture to swim, and you fight the urge to shout for her to come back.

In moments like these, you appreciate the diligent, daily perimeter scans that ensure the infected stay at a safe distance. You hope desperately that no curious soldiers wander through the trees and spot you standing completely exposed, yearning for their commander who is frolicking in the nearby lake.

Your toes are the first to touch the freezing water, and the intense heat makes it feel so cold that you hesitate to go further than your knees. Goosebumps rise on your sun-warmed skin as you wrap your arms around yourself, unable to control the laughter welling up in your throat.    

With the surveillance of a shark, Abby notices your reluctance and effortlessly swims a mere four feet away from where you stand quivering like an arrow in the wind.

A mischievous spark dances in her eyes, highlighted by the spirited quirk of her brow.

“What are you doing? Abby,” you warn. You raise your palms, bracing yourself for the impending strike. “Don’t you dare!”

“The water is so nice,” she says.

“I swear to God, if you pull me in—”

“Come here,” Abby purrs, reaching for you. Water flows down her glistening arms in spine-tingling rivulets. “Are you really going to leave me all alone out here?”

You deftly evade her slow advances, finding yourself unexpectedly waist-deep in the water. She’s a smart and tactical woman, and the way she beckons for you to move toward her makes your insides twist.

“Oh, put that lip away,” you say, letting out a squeak as you stumble in a slightly deeper section of the lake, desperately trying to regain stability and make your way towards the shore. “You better back up—I swear I’ll take you down!”

The compliant and submissive attitude she had been trying to lure you in with suddenly evaporates, shifting into sheer, unrestrained determination.

She revels in the thrill of a challenge. You should’ve known better.

“Oh crap,” you blurt. “Please don’t. Please!”

“Begging doesn’t get you very far with me, either,” she smirks. “What’s your next move, hotshot?”

The sun’s reflection off her freckled skin is so radiant that it stuns you, as if a star has suddenly exploded into ethereal sand. Against her imposing form, you adjust your position into a fighting stance, attempting to appear more formidable than you feel.

The moment you decide to go toe to toe with her, a spark ignites, and she drifts closer to you.

“You’re too cute to scare me. Sorry to disappoint.”

Her banter is leaving you tongue-tied as your shoulders slump in defeat. She comes to an abrupt halt, an inch away from your shivering frame.

You were prepared to resign yourself to the inevitable, but she’s allowing you to determine the outcome instead.

The way she has gently motivated you to tread outside your comfort zone without compromising your sense of security is liberating. It’s been a while since you’ve experienced such a profound sense of autonomy.

“I’m just psyched that you finally notice me,” you say.

Her tone shifts into something tremendously genuine as she studies you.

“You think I haven’t noticed you before now?” she asks, gnawing at the inside of her cheek. “I see you.”

Bitten by the cold water, Abby’s nipples are hard against her breasts, and you quickly glance away when you catch yourself looking at her. The proximity to her chiseled body escalates the collision of shame and vulnerability, leaving you more naked in this lake than your own birthday suit.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“Don’t be,” Abby murmurs. “You can look. I don’t mind.”

You lock eyes with hers, and she grins, taking a confident step back to give you a clear view. As you hesitate, the rapid beats of your heart boom like a kick drum.

Right when you gather the courage to take her bare features in, she cleverly exploits the diversion and pulls you into the water.

You come up sputtering, the cold stealing your breath and purging your worries.

“I hate you so much!”

With a joyful laugh, Abby dives backward, narrowly escaping the colossal wave you’re preparing to unleash in her direction. She abstains from venturing as far into the lake as she previously did, and being so close to her, the water’s chill becomes more bearable.  

“Are you a strong swimmer?” she asks.

“I mean, I’m decent at not drowning.”

“Think you can reach that?”

She gestures towards a fragmented section of the dock that has become detached from its pathway and now floats aimlessly on the surface.

The water is so pristine that you can easily see the pebbles and plants at the bottom. You know very well the slimy texture of fish and the spookiness of waterlogged plants as they touch your ankles. It gives you the creeps, even though you’re trying to make a good impression.

“I’ll probably freak the hell out if something touches me, but I’ll give it a shot.”

“Ah, don’t sweat it. I’ll protect you from the big-bad rainbow trout.”

The sight of Abby’s pink tongue poking out at you triggers a fleeting desire to kiss it, leaving you lightheaded.

“You’re so brave,” you say, heavily laced with sarcasm. “Wanna share some of that ego, or are you going to keep it all to yourself?”

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

----------------------------------------

Abby chops wood with meticulous precision, each swing of her axe splitting the round with a single, clean strike. The force of the blade sends wood chips flying in all directions, with a few pieces sticking to the bottom of her pants.

It’s a spectacle to behold as she wipes her forehead with her sleeves, then proceeds to roll them up, her swollen veins climbing from her muscular hands like vines.

“That smells good,” you say.

Abby pauses, flashing a smile at you. The axe hangs from her grip with such ease that it appears weightless at her side.

“You dig the smell of cedar, huh?” she says. With the toe of her boot, Abby nudges the mound of wood chips into a tighter pile. “I like it too—I’d stay out here forever if I could. Build myself a log house that smells just like this all the time.”

“Would it have a porch?”

With the blade resting between her boots, she contemplates, alternating the handle between her hands before leaning her weight on the axe like a walking stick.

“Do you think it should have one?” she asks.

You picture Abby’s dirty hands, decorated with thin, red scratches and rough callouses after building a home from the ground up, as she sips tea from a mug and watches the sun go down.

“Definitely. How else will you watch the sunset?”

As she looks up, her long lashes catch the light, her muscles rippling as she counterbalances against the axe handle. You feel a pleasant warmth enveloping you as she pores over your suggestion.

“We’d need a couple of rocking chairs then,” Abby says. “Maybe a table to play cards. I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

When she suddenly includes you in her vision, a wave of flutters spills from your ribs and into your belly.

“Oh god, I suck at card games,” you giggle.

“I’m a good teacher,” she says. “You’d be wiping the floor with me in no time.”

With her arms full of freshly chopped wood, Abby walks over to place the stack beside you, providing the final element to cook your lunch. She watches you work, entranced by the flickering flames as you build them into a pit of roaring fire.

As the flames dance higher, you add a handful of fragrant pinecones from your backpack, filling the air with the burn of citrus and earth.

With a contented hum, Abby tilts her head back and immerses herself in the aroma.

“Speaking of teaching,” you say. “What got you into planning these events?”

Leaning back on her arms, she crosses her feet at the ankle, her boot laces slowly coming undone as she sways them.

“My dad,” Abby explains, as tenderness seeps into her voice, a touch of sadness tinging her words. “He was super into the community thing, you know? Making everyone feel like part of a team and stuff—he really wanted to bring people together.”

“The world needs more of that.”

Abby lets out an exasperated sigh, nodding in agreement.

“Man, he would’ve hated it here,” she says.

“With the wolves, you mean?”

Abby grabs your bag and slides it over to use as a pillow. She rests on her back, hands folded on her chest, seeming to lose herself in the spectacle of the passing clouds. It’s clear that discussing her father is a delicate matter, and you completely understand her decision to shift the conversation.

“Do you ever think about leaving?” Abby asks, with her gaze fixed on the sky. She absentmindedly nibbles on the dry skin of her bottom lip. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay—um. It crosses my mind sometimes,” you confess. “I’m not sure where I’d go, exactly. But I wonder what else is out there. If maybe there are some normal towns with regular people who aren’t killing each other every other day.”

When Abby turns her head to look at you, you’re immediately captivated by how receptive she looks. Is Isaac’s beloved cavalry leader weighing the prospect of leaving everything behind?

“What would you do if you found one?”

“I’d probably get a cat,” you say, using your hand to block the sun as it filters through the trees. “They’re so soft and they keep your feet warm at night.”

Abby’s laughter escapes her in velvety puffs.

She shares a scandalous story about Manny, recounting a time when he was fooling around with one of his girls in a hidden location away from the FOB. Amid getting down to business, a cat unexpectedly jumped through the window and onto the mattress, startling him so badly that he leapt out of bed and ran naked down the hallway.

The woman he was with at the time berated him relentlessly, emphasizing the danger of encountering an attacker or an undead creature. She blamed him for deserting her in a potentially life-threatening situation.

Following that enlightening incident, they decided to keep their relationship strictly platonic.

“I’m totally keeping that one in my back pocket,” you say.

“Plenty more where that came from,” Abby says, interrupting her disclosure of Manny’s secrets to quench her thirst with a swig from her canteen.

“Manny has interesting taste in women,” you say.

“He was sure head over heels for you, though.”

Abby fusses with a splinter on her thumb, a small, satisfied grin playing on her lips.

“He was not!”

“Oh, big time,” she says, your response seeming to trigger her penchant for teasing. “He thought you were into him, too, for a bit—always following him around.”

As you think back to your early friendship with Manny, you remember how uncertain and undefined your relationship was before you clarified you weren’t interested romantically. His kindness was clear from the start, even before he fully grasped the reason behind your lack of reciprocation.

The knowledge that Abby was aware of your existence during that time, even in some trivial way, excites you.

“Maybe I was hoping to run into someone else.”

As Abby considers the notion, she unconsciously drags the cap of her canteen across her lips. Before taking another sip, she smiles at you, her head tipped back, revealing the enticing flex of her throat as she swallows.

“You know what?” Abby says. “I really like when you flirt with me.”

The boldness that has been emerging as you come out of your shell collides with the shy warmth spreading across the bridge of your nose.

“You do?”

“I think I’m a little jealous of Manny, actually.”

“He tried to kiss me once,” you say, giggling as Abby’s eyebrows nearly fly off her face in astonishment. “A perfect gentleman, but he still got a face full of my hair.”

Intrigued, she leans forward, encouraging you to delve deeper into the story.

“Yeah—they roped me into spin the bottle,” you continue. As you run your fingernail along the firestick, the last bits of bark spiral away, leaving behind a polished wood finish. “Do you remember when everyone thought that was a good idea? Before it turned into a relationship destroyer.”

“I forgot about that,” Abby laughs. “Isaac shut that shit down so fast. I didn’t make it to any of the parties, really.”

If Abby had attended, that ridiculous game would have received a much higher rating from you, that’s for sure.

“Did you want to be there?” you ask.

She tells you about Isaac’s efforts to shape her into a skilled assassin. How it resulted in her growing apart from Manny and her closest companions during that time. He prioritized her duties as a soldier, taking advantage of both her trauma and her unwavering discipline.

“I didn’t really know where I belonged, you know? We all got along, but I was going through something, and it changed me. It was probably weird to watch me climb the ranks so fast on top of it. I mostly kept to myself between assignments.”

Isaac, as usual, manipulated the situation to his benefit. Hearing about the ways he fractured their relationships is painful, as he seemed to have kept them at a distance while still prospering from their loyalty.

Every little thing she sacrificed to be a protector and a cog in Isaac’s machine brings forth an undeniable twinge of sadness. It echoes through the chambers of your heart.

Adolescent games paled in comparison to the plethora of experiences Abby must’ve missed out on.

“You deserved better,” you say, your voice a gentle hush. “Still do.”

You grab another handful of pinecones and pass one to her.

It’s a work of art, uniform and unblemished. A testament to nature’s elegance. Abby rolls it between her palms with care, treating the overlapping scales as if they are delicate glass.  

“How are you so pretty?” you ask breathlessly.

When Abby’s gaze meets yours, it’s like the gate to her cage has swung open, granting her the freedom to roam the boundless forest.    

“Where were you when I was young?” she asks.

The raw sincerity in her query finds you longing to comfort her.

You stoke the fire with the gnarled branch, ensuring that the glowing embers stay contained within the pit to reduce the chance of it spreading. Seattle can only handle one forest fire at a time, and the inferno crackling beneath your skin shows no signs of abating.

“I guess I was busy perfecting my cooking prowess,” you say. “Are you hungry yet?”

“Starved,” she says.

----------------------------------------

Abby’s creativity blossoms when she’s well-fed, and in a matter of hours, you’ve made significant progress together, working on her project.

The breadth of her abilities alone is enough to inspire anyone—but observing her as she skillfully exercises her talents in an exhibition of physical strength turns your knees to jelly.

Whether it’s the consequence of too much sun or falling hard for Abby, you’re exhausted, and the sun hasn’t even started to go down.

Cognizant of your struggle with the knot she previously taught you; Abby quietly approaches from behind to assist you again.

“You’re so close,” she says, sidling her front up against your back. You feel her breath on the nape of your neck, dropping onto your collarbone. “Can I?”

Below your own, Abby’s hands hover, patiently seeking permission to become your shadow, guiding the cord around your fingertips.

You nod, and she presses closer to you, her hair tickling your shoulder as she rests her chin there. Her support enables you to acclimate to the unfamiliar movements, the delightful fragrance of her skin simply a gratuity you get to enjoy in the meantime.

“Is this how you always teach?” you ask.

With a short-winded chuckle, you feel her shake her head.

“Never,” she says. “This is only for you.”

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby x you #tlou abby #lesbian