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f1version · 4 months

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SANTA DOESN’T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO ‧͙*̩̩͙❅ MSC47

pairing: Mick Schumacher x reader ( she/her )

summary: Mick and you have been best friends for years, been through the good and bad, but feelings change and thoughts spiral. Will this holiday time make both of you realize that you could be the one?

warnings/info: fluff, best friends to lovers, miscommunication (they’re avoiding each other), kissing, a bit of anxiety, a try-to hallmark movie my way through fics.

word count: 2.1k words

note: inspired on sabrina carpenter’s song! hope you like it, have a good day and happy holidays!

snowglobe, a holiday special

DECEMBER 20, 2023

It’s cold outside; snow is falling everywhere but not with enough force to block the streets or close the stores. Usually, when the weather looks like this, you would call Mick and bake those cookies he loves. He would put on his ‘Emotional Support’ apron and pretend to help. You would tease him about how he never does anything, just there to eat, and he would laugh, eyes lighten up, and say something along the lines of—I just passed you the flour! or whatever ingredient he helped you grab from the shelf ten minutes back.

Sometimes you wonder how you ended up in this place, so desperately in love with your best friend, with butterflies in your stomach when he hugs you, a silly smile on your face when he tells some awful joke, and an enormous fear of telling him, sort of. It doesn’t matter; that won't stop you from baking cookies on such a pretty snowy day.

You: Wanna come over? I’m making cookies

Mick: Very busy right now

Mick: Just do them without me

You: that's alright

Here’s the thing: Mick’s been acting as cold as snow since the last time you saw each other a week ago. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, not that you are aware of; you were watching Hallmark movies together, and he decided to leave abruptly before the movie ended. Maybe it’s just an emergency, he said, but he’s been running away from you for days, your friends confused over the whole thing.

You wonder if he’s noticed. Lately, your friends have spent a lot of time telling you how obvious it looks—shiny eyes paired with a never-ending smile. They have also suggested it’s mutual, which you hope because all you've wanted to do before your family's Christmas party is to confess, but who knows, maybe you’ve all been watching too many movies.

DECEMBER 22, 2023

“Are you sure you didn’t do anything to make him mad?” Alicia, your best friend, asks. She came in to leave some decorations for the party on Sunday, but one life update lent to another and of course, the Mick situation came up.

“It doesn't even seem like he’s mad at me,” You say because it’s true, you’ve known Mick long enough to know how he acts when mad, “he’s just ignoring me.”

She sighs. “Then why don’t you ask him what’s wrong?”

You’ve asked yourself that a couple of times, but the answer is still not clear, usually is as easy as walking down the street to his house but this time the thought overwhelms you. “Because I'm scared?” You answer, out of breath. “I don't know. I’m focusing on the party, especially because Mom doesn’t come back until tomorrow evening.”

“Honestly, my suggestion is for you to ask him before the party.”

You sigh, knowing she’s right. The Christmas party is a tradition your families started eleven years ago, after Alicia, Gina, Esteban, Mick, and you decided to become inseparable at one of Mick’s birthday parties. This year it will be hosted at your family home, and with your mom away in Germany for a work conference, you’ve had your friends come around and help. They’ve all shown up but Mick. What the hell is his problem?

“I know Ali but,” Your phone starts ringing, Mickey is displayed on your screen with a picture of Mick carrying Angie. Alicia rolls her eyes and encourages you to take it with her head. “Hello?”

“Hi. I'm panicking a bit,” he says, the background noise lets you know he's in his car.

“Why?” You ask, forgetting you were having a crisis on this. “Is everything okay?”

He sighs. “It’s embarrassing, but I have no idea what to get your mom,” he says, and you laugh. Last year, you were having this exact crisis about Corinna.

You hum, thinking, “She wanted new pedals for her bike. Loved some she saw in Bike World; you’ll have to drive a bit, but I’ll send you the pic.” You put your phone away, change the call to speaker, and open messages, sending the picture your mom sent you a month ago. “There you go.”

“You are a lifesaver.”

You smile, letting out a laugh. “I know, idiot.”

“Bye, love you,” he says. Your calls always end like this; it’s a habit, so you mutter Love you back and hang up.

Alicia is staring at you, a grin on her red lips. “I hate both of you,” and she laughs, grabbing her keys and purse, about to leave. You’re somehow dumbfounded.

“What?”

“Bye, love you. Love you,” she mimics, and you feel heat rise up your cheeks. “You guys really need to talk; I’m done dealing with him too.”

“What? Ali, it’s a ha-”

“I’m coming back at six”

“Alicia!”

“Just ask him!” She closes de door before you can even ask her to come back.

DECEMBER 24, 2023

Needless to say, you didn’t talk with Mick on the 23rd. Too busy dealing with the party and, as Esteban said, too busy avoiding the topic.

Now it’s 7 p.m., warm lights tint the house while friends and family sway along the music in the background. Mick has been around since ten in the morning, bringing presents, a couple of ingredients that your mom was missing, and decorations, which he then helped put together. Now he’s just in full black attire, wine in hand, singing along to the song playing. Once again, you're too busy in your world to notice him approaching you.

“You always know which songs to play,” he says. Because he knows it’s your playlist reproducing. You know that’s one of his favorite songs.

“I try my best. But I also know it’s one of your favorites,” you answer, and he hums. There’s a void between you, one that hasn't been there before. It's not the tension when you fight or the longing when you're upset; it's not the excitement of seeing each other after months of traveling or the mischief when you prank your friends. It’s different—something that has been building itself for months—and you are too oblivious to understand what it is.

“You look beautiful,” Mick says, not looking at you but at his drink. He’s looked at you enough tonight, he thinks. You look up, suddenly feeling an outrageous urge to kiss him. Try and see if that’s the answer to all your questions.

He’s faster though, clears his throat, and says, “I’m going for more cookies.”

And he leaves. Your eyes stay on his back as he takes one cookie from the snack table. See him hum to the taste. You smile, bittersweet, What is going on, Mick? You want to shout at him, tell him in a million different ways how confusing all of this is, but that’s a talk for tomorrow; you’ve decided, you can't escape it any longer then.

"Shatz,” Someone calls and then says your name.

“Hm, yes, mom?” You ask, and it’s time to eat.

[ 10 minutes later ]

You are in the middle of dinner, or gossiping time, as Gina calls it, when Aunt Adelaide starts asking each one of you—the single, young members of the family and friends—about relationships. It’s not your favorite part, but a lot of fun commentary comes out of it.

Hearing your name, you know it's your turn. “Do you have anyone special yet? Maybe a secret boyfriend you don't want to tell us about?"

You laugh, “No, no. But I hope someone comes along this year.” First, you have to get over Mick, you think, and laugh a bit more.

“I have a neighbor I could introduce you to, dear. He’s a lovely young man.” She always has someone to present you to; it’s surprising. You try to go on dates with them, but they never end up working.

“I’ll think about it.” You say this as the loud sound of silver hitting the floor calls everyone’s attention.

Mick abruptly stands up. “I’m sorry,” he says as he picks up his fallen fork. He looks uncomfortable, like he’s had enough of the food, the music, or the topic. “Excuse me, I’m going for another one.”

The table has fallen silent. Aunt Adelaide is looking at you in amusement, a playful grin on her face. Someone nudges your shoulder, and you know it’s Alicia. Her eyes stand on a strange middle ground between confused and knowing, tilting her head in encouragement, like she always does. You also stand up, not so abruptly, but now everyone looks at you expectantly. “I’m going. Excuse me.”

You follow Mick to the kitchen; thankfully, it's far enough from the dining room that no one will bother.

“Mick?” You call once you’re there. His head is on his hands, and he is murmuring inaudible words to himself. "Mick, what is going on?"

He looks up, his hair messy. He’s overthinking, and you don't know what to do. You feel lost looking at him, far away from his thoughts and feelings. “What do you mean? Everything is alright.”

“You don’t look alright,” you say, shaking your head. “You’ve been acting strange.”

“No, I haven't. We’re alright,” he lies once again, picking on his thumbs.

You sigh, knowing this is when you talk about it—no script, no thinking, just questions and hope for answers. Whatever is budging him has his anxiety running in full force. “No, you’re not, and we're not; I have no idea what just happened, and you're acting as if you barely know me."

He takes a deep breath, runs his fingers through his hair, and looks at you with his deep blue eyes. You see questions being asked but don’t understand how to answer them. “It’s nothing; I'm just. It’s hard to explain; you won't understand.”

“I will try to understand then, like I always do.” You promise, taking two steps forward, close enough to reach out and hold him, "Just please talk to me."

“I don’t want to mess things up between us,” he says, sounding afraid. It reminds you of the time sixteen-year-old Mick broke your favorite perfume by accident. He didn’t want to tell you, too afraid you would stop talking to him. You really hope he didn’t break anything, material or not.

“You won't. I will be here for you.”

“I just want,” he stops himself once again. His eyes never leave yours, so you open yours a bit, waiting, listening to whatever he has to say, and it seems to work because he just says, “You."

“What?” You blank, not knowing what to say or do, not knowing if you understood correctly or if it’s the movie's effect once again. You see the exact moment in which he panics.

“No, fuck. I’m sorry, I.” He looks everywhere but your eyes, searching for an exit. Your first instinct is to grab his hand, keeping him where he is.

“I could,” you say slowly, looking at your now-intertwined hands. “I could be misunderstanding all of this, but, Mick,” you say, looking at him. He’s looking back, hope in his gorgeous sky blue eyes. “I like you, but no, not even. Mick, I’m so in love with you it hurts. I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, but then you disappeared. You didn’t want to see me; you were acting different, and I got so worried, but I think...”

“That we are both idiots,” he says, a small smirk growing on his lips.

“Yes, yes, we are.”

He smiles and brings his free hand to your cheek, says your name like it’s meant for him to say forever. “I’m in love with you too, so much. I got so scared when I realized that I didn't just like you, that I couldn’t hide it anymore. And then our friends started saying how obvious I was being.”

“Same here,” you say, laughing. He moves his hand, pulling you in for a warm hug. It feels different than any other you’ve shared; the last two pieces of a puzzle you’ve been building together, finally finding their place. It’s a breath of fresh air. Mick’s hands are all around you, softly caressing your back, his head buried in your neck, leaving a small peck before distancing himself enough so he can see your face. You want to ask if it's appropriate to kiss him now.

But he's the first to talk. “Quick question."

“Shoot."

“Do I need a mistletoe to kiss you?” He asks, and you laugh loudly. Shake your head in embarrassment. Oh, how you love this man.

“As much as I enjoy the tradition, all you, Mick Schumacher, have to do is ask,” and now it's his turn to laugh, brings you closer while doing so.

“Can I please kiss you?"

You pretend to think about it and decide to tease him a little bit: “Is that what you asked for Christmas?"

“It’s the exact thing I asked Santa Claus for."

“Then merry Christmas, Mick.”

taglist — @smartstupyd @ziarah . . . add yourself here

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ddejavvu · 10 months

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but like poly! with hangman and rooster though 🤤 the lingering touches, longing looks and sneaking off in and out of the base because the rest of the dagger squad is yet to know of your unconventional relationship with the twoㅡthough it's safe to say that they have the tiniest bit of clue; the taped picture of you in jake’s locker and the necklace of your initial that hangs alongside bradley’s dog tags that may or may not have caught a sliver of their prying eyes.

Natasha waits until both Mickey and Reuben have had their post-hangover breakfasts, buttered toast and a single scrambled egg to go easy on their stomachs. Last night had been wild, and she'd volunteered for designated driver to gather intel while everyone else got drunk. She'd let them wake up on their own time, but once they'd come down for breakfast, she'd decided to ask for their help. When they're downing the last of the orange juice she'd poured for them, she braces her chin in her hands, "Boys?"

They share a look, suspicious when they turn back to her. Reuben speaks first, "Uh oh. Is this why you were bein' so nice to us? You've got some evil plan going?"

"Evil plan," She scoffs, wiping a crumb off of their communal kitchen table, "Don't be so dramatic. I need your help."

"With what?" Mickey's brow wrinkles in a frown, "You're probably the strongest at the table, there's nothing in here you can't move by yourself."

"I need your help spying on Rooster," She informs them, "I think he's got a girlfriend."

Mickey's brow straightens itself out, soaring towards his hairline, "Girlfriend?"

"And I think it's one of the maintenance women on base."

"What makes you say that?" Reuben leans over the table towards her, eager to hear the gossip.

"He's got this necklace that he wears on top of his dog tags," She explains, it's got her initials on it. I know it could be someone else, but I saw a picture taped in his jet the other day, and it was of her. I think they're sneaking around or something."

"Woah!" Mickey snickers, "A picture in the jet? He's already gone. So what, he's keeping her a secret or something?"

"I don't know!" Phoenix urges, "That's what I want you to find out. Don't pry, just keep an eye out with me this next week. I've asked Bob to do the same."

"Will do, Phe," Reuben nods once, headache long forgotten at the prospect of a secret mission, "Fanboy and I'll have the juicy details in no time."

On Tuesday, Fanboy had caught a glimpse of your picture in Bradley's jet. Armed with your appearance, he'd described you to Payback, and the pair had scanned everyone in their vicinity until positively identifying you.

"That's her! That one," Fanboy points, glad that your back is turned so that you can't see the scene he's making, "That's Rooster's girl."

Feeling triumphant upon their discovery, the pair returned to Phoenix, announcing their victory. The trio had set out especially happy that Friday night, planning on getting Bradley blackout drunk and prying the answers out of him.

Friday night drinks are now a sacred ritual among the proudly proclaimed Dagger Squad, and it's not uncommon to see Jake perusing the patrons with one hand on his beer. He doesn't always stick around to play pool, but Bradly's bent over the table now, the necklace with your initials on the chain dangling low over the surface. Phoenix shares a sly grin with Fanboy and Payback over it, and notices Jake wandering off towards the bathrooms.

"Lucky guy," Coyote whistles lowly, "Have you seen the woman he's been messin' around with?"

"Bradley?" Phoenix's brows furrow, but Javy looks confused.

"No," He laughs cautiously, "Hangman. Rooster's got someone too?"

"Whatever," Phoenix shakes her head, "Doesn't matter. I pity the poor girl Jake's got."

Natasha makes it her business to get Rooster drunk, Fanboy and Payback holding back to question him once he's wasted. They're patient enough in their endeavors, sipping their own drinks in the meantime, but Fanboy excuses himself to the bathrooms while they wait.

He comes back entirely too fast, eyes blown wide and hands urgent where they wrap around both Phoenix's and Payback's wrists.

"Guys," He pants, "Get- come with me!"

"What- Hey!" Phoenix grunts as he yanks them off towards the other end of the bar, cringing when he heads straight for the men's bathroom, "Dude, whatever gross shit you found in there, I don't wanna see it!"

"It's not-" Fanboy shakes his head, speechless and gushing all at once, "Just look!"

He swings the door open so hard that it hits the tile on the wall. It also interrupts Jake, who's pressing someone up against the door of an open stall. Oh shit, he's pressing you up against the door of an open stall, his mouth hot and heavy on yours.

You stare wide-eyed at the three intruders, though perhaps if you wanted more privacy you could have let your boyfriend drag you into the supply room out back. It is a public bathroom, it just tends to stay empty except for couples hooking up.

Natasha's previously nice impression of you, only forged by the fact that one of her closest friends loved you enough to make you a permanent fixture in his jet, turns sour instantly. She can't imagine what Bradley will feel when she tells him you've been cheating on him, much less with Jake.

"Hangman," Payback's sharp voice cuts through the awkward silence of the bathroom, "What the hell are you doing, man?"

"I'm kissing my girlfriend," He drawls, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, "Could you give us a little privacy, guys?"

"That's Bradley's girlfriend," Natasha narrows her eyes at you, "He's got a picture of you in his jet, and a necklace with your initials on it."

Your eyes widen slightly, and you murmur, "He's got a picture of me in his jet?"

Jake stares between you and Phoenix, watching as her face turns down in a disapproving frown, "Yeah, he does. He must really like you, and you're out here with someone else?"

"Oh-" You start, eyes widening along with Jake's, "No, it's not-"

"Oh, it's not what it looks like?" She interrupts, scoffing disgustedly, "Save it. Listen, I'm gonna tell Bradley about this, and then I'm gonna tell Penny you're bumming around here breaking hearts. You'll be lucky if you get away with a ring of the bell."

"No!" You cry, and Jake shouts sternly, "Phoenix, wait!"

But it's too late, and she's gone, wandering through the seat of people to find Rooster.

Jake lets his arms fall from around your waist and you both start towards the door, but Fanboy and Payback don't budge where they stand. Both are regarding you with disapproving looks, and you feel defensive as Jake's shoulders stiffen at their behavior.

"Listen, guys, you've got it all wrong. I know about Rooster, and he knows about me. We-" Jake runs a hand through his hair, "We're doing this- I dunno, throuple thing. He knows we're in here together, he chose this outfit for her tonight."

It's a flattering outfit, of course. But you're sure it's the least of their worries, as they process what Jake's just told them.

"Oh." Fanboy mutters, "So you're- it's all cool?"

"Well not now," Jake sneers, "Phoenix is about to have us thrown overboard!"

"Right," Payback steps out of the way, already intent on tracking the brunette down, "Phe- wait!"

He stops her just before she reaches Bradley, and she looks back at him exasperatedly. You're quick to follow, and she looks at you with her face wrinkled in disdain.

Bradley's, however, lights up at your arrival, and he sets his cue down, "Y/N! Hey, baby, wasn't sure I'd see you tonight. Thought Hangman might keep you in that shitty bathroom the whole time."

Phoenix's head snaps towards Bradley, her brows furrowed as she watches him keenly.

"Bradley, uh- I wanted to-" You sidestep his hug, approaching Phoenix with shame in your chest that you shouldn't be bearing. Somehow she's made you feel guilty for something you haven't done, and you want to make things right.

"I'm dating the both of them" You inform her in a meek voice, "Uh- Bradley and Jake. I would never cheat on anyone, or- or prowl a bar just to break someone's heart. I know what it looked like, but- I'm really sorry we confused you. If I had known you knew, I- I would have said something."

All in all, Phoenix feels a little embarrassed. She knows she did the right thing by trying to tell Bradley about it, but she'd jumped to the wrong conclusion, and all eyes are on her as she figures out how to proceed.

"So they know...?" She glances between both men, who nod casually.

"Yeah," You join, "It's- it's something we're trying out, a polyamory sort of thing."

"Oh." Is what she settles on, "Uh- I'm sorry. For threatening you, and lecturing you, and... yeah."

"It's alright," You assure her, sticking your hand out for a handshake. She goes to take it, but backs off last-minute, and something spikes in your chest straight at your heart.

"Uh- no hard feelings." She promises, hand down by her side again, 'But I saw you and Hangman in there, and I don't know where that hand has been."

#bradley bradshaw x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #rooster x reader #hangman x reader x rooster #jake seresin x reader x bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader x jake seresin #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw smut #jake seresin smut #hangman smut

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callsigndragon · 1 year

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Sunshine | Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

(I love this gif so much I'm not even joking)

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Wife!reader

Word count: 1010

Warnings: nothing! Pure, lovely fluff.

This was requested by @bookaholics-stuff. Thank you, honey! This was such a cute request and I just had to write it NOW. Hope you like it!

FOREVER TGM TAGLIST: @tayrae515 @alexxavicry @xoxabs88xox @mercurio23 @shrimping-for-all @abaker74

(if you want to be tagged, ask me!)

Mrs. Seresin was the only thing Jake didn't brag about. Don't get me wrong, it's not because he is not proud of you. Quite the opposite.

He's so damn happy to have you in his life that he wants to treasure you. Keep you to himself.

And there hasn't been a lot of time to talk about each other's lives during this mission. Phoenix wants to fix this matter, actually, suggesting all the members that a day at the beach could be a good opportunity to get to know each other.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake had agreed to meet with the rest this Saturday, have something to drink at the Hard Deck, play some Dogfight football… Just a bunch of friends spending a normal day at the beach without having to worry about the safety of the planet. But that plan is thrown out the window when you, Y/n Seresin, the love of Jake’s life, ring the bell of Jake and Javy’s shared house.

“Sunshine? Oh my god, what are you doing here?” Jake says, while hugging you tightly. It has only been a few weeks since the last time he saw you, but it feels like a lifetime away from you.

“Heard that my handsome hubby had chalked up another kill, saved the day and also the famous Maverick. I had to come here and celebrate!” you explain, covering his face with kisses, Jake scrunching his nose due to the pure happiness of the moment.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush, Mrs. Seresin”

“Where’s Javy?” you ask, entering the house and leaving your small suitcase in the bedroom.

“I don’t know, he said he was gonna meet Mickey and Reuben to buy something. Don’t ask me why because I can’t remember” he confesses, laughing.

“Oh my, Jake Seresin, aren't you a bit young to be forgetting things?” you joke as you lay down on the bed, tired from the flight from Austin. You had been staying with your sister-in-law and her two kids for a few days, not wanting to be alone when you found out how dangerous this mission was going to be.

“It’s your fault. Do I have to remind you how I forgot my own name when I first saw you?” he recalls, sitting in the bed next to you, his hand quickly moving to your hair, and moving some strands out of your face. “You still have that effect on me, Sunshine”

You smile, satisfaction running through your body as you realize that no matter how much time passes, Jake will always be completely and utterly in love with you. “I saw the beach while in the taxi. This place is amazing, Jake. And you are definitely sunbathing without me, huh? Look at that golden skin” you poke his cheek, making him giggle like a teenager.

Everyone saw Hangman, the aviator.

But only you were able to see Jake, the loving husband.

“Want me to take you to the beach, sunshine? We can take a bath and go for a walk.” he offers, kissing your forehead.

“I’d love to”

“Is that woman talking to Hangman?” Phoenix questions out loud while leaving the cooler that Mickey, Reuben and Javy had bought earlier to fill with drinks, in the sand.

“Maybe he is talking to the poor woman,” Fanboy suggests, moving his sunglasses down his nose to try and understand the whole situation. “Should we go rescue her?”

“She doesn’t seem uncomfortable, though” Payback adds, the whole squad standing there like a bunch of sentinels, ready to jump into action if the lady needed to be liberated from the blonde cowboy.

Seconds later, Hangman is throwing the poor girl over his shoulder and walking straight to the water. “Oh god, he’s gonna get smacked,” Bob laughs, opening his blue folding chair and sitting down to enjoy the show.

“JAKE SERESIN PUT ME DOWN” you yell, trying to leave your husband’s arms, only to be thrown in the water. You stand up, your sundress now completely stuck to your body. Thank god you are wearing your swimsuit underneath. “If I didn’t vow to love you for the rest of my life I would kill you”

“Did she say ‘vow’ as in ‘wedding vow’?" Rooster asks, looking at the rest of his team. “Man, I don’t understand anything”

Javy, who had been trying to get the beach umbrella from the trunk after it got stuck, walks happily to the rest, wondering why the heck are they standing there like… well, idiots. “Guys what are you- Y/N SERESIN?”

“JAVY!” the woman, who now everyone knows it’s a Seresin, runs to Javy, almost tackling him to the ground. "I'm so glad you're okay"

"What are you guys doing here?" Questions Hangman to the group, joining his wife and his best friend.

"Dude, beach day. We told you" Fanboy looks at Hangman, wondering if the pilot really had forgotten about it or was just messing with them.

"Excuse my husband, he's having trouble remembering things lately" you tease him, earning a glare from Jake.

"Husband" mutters Bob.

"Husband?" asks Phoenix.

"Husband!" confirms Javy.

"I'm Y/N. We've been married for three years now. And no, I wasn't forced to marry him, Rooster. I know you were about to say that" you say to Bradley, leaving him shocked.

"I was gonna ask that, yes. How did you know? And how did you know I was Rooster"

"Oh, cause I'm good, Rooster. I'm really good" you retort, making Jake laugh.

"Oh no, there's two of them. We're doomed" Bob says, sitting down again.

"I'm guessing Javy was the best-man?" Javy nods at Phoenix, answering her question. "Well, Mrs. Seresin, would you like to play some Dogfight football with us?"

"I don't even know what's that but teach me, and I will play" you say, taking off the sundress and stealing Jake's sunglasses from him.

He looks at you, wondering what had he done in a past life to be this lucky. Good job, good friends, and the perfect wife. His own personal sunshine.

#top gun maverick #top gun x reader #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun fanfiction #hangman x reader #jake hangman x reader #hangman seresin #hangman imagine #jake hangman x fem!reader #jake hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #hangman fluff #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun #hangman x you

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vellicore · 10 months

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FAVORITE PLACES

Various characters and their favorite places to have sex.

Warnings: public sex, shower sex, car sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, cum kink, basically this is all filth.

A/N: Please do not report this! It's so frustrating to have things reported. If I missed any warnings you feel should be listed, please let me know. Gifs made by me. I know I didn't list all of Seb's characters, but I did some of my favorites.

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 - After being denied pleasure for many years, Bucky is desperate. He’s more than happy to have sex any place at any time. Out to dinner with friends? He doesn’t care, he’ll gladly take you in the bathroom of the restaurant. Heading to a mission? No better place than the back of the jet. He even took you in the laundry room of your parent’s house. The man is insatiable.

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐧- Carter loves the thrill of making you cum while riding the elevator. It all started when the two of you got stuck on one. He knew he needed to distract you somehow. What better way than having you cum on his cock? Now, whenever you two ride one together, he considers it a challenge to see just how fast he can make you cum.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 - Charles loves to take you apart in the back seat of his red convertible. He gets even more excited when you let him keep the top down. It’s almost like he’s determined to get caught. He craves the sound of your moans and screams. Let the townspeople hear you while his tongue is buried deep into your soaked pussy.

𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 - The gym, of course. Lance loves to use the different gymnastics equipment to his advantage. You'd never considered yourself to be flexible. That is, until Lance came along. He causes you to bend and stretch in ways you didn't even know was possible. Whether it's bending you over the pommel horse or having you ride him on top of the mats, he always manages to give you a solid workout.

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 - Lee loves to fuck you at the station. It all started when he spotted two of his deputies staring at your ass. That afternoon he made sure they all knew who you belonged to. He bent you over his desk and pounded into you until you were screaming his name. Now anytime you bring his lunch (which happens frequently). Everyone in the station knows what’s about to happen. Lee can't help but feel smug as you walk out of his office with his cum running down your thighs.

𝐌𝐚𝐱 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 - Max craves the riches in life. He lives for the thrill. He loves to have sex in your current mark's house. Once, you were conning a millionaire. Max fucked you up against the window of the man's penthouse. He always finds a way to be a part of the con. Whether it's posing as your best friend, brother, or coworker. He doesn't care. As long he finds a way to have you.

𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 - Mickey loves to fool around inside his DJ booth. Once the club was so dark, he was able to fuck you without anyone noticing. He's constantly looking for opportunities to make it happen again. But most of the time, the two of you are only able to manage to sneak in a blow job or some fingering. It doesn't matter though, because the set is over. He'll find a place so he can be buried deep inside your pussy.

𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐅𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐫- Nick loves to take you apart in the shower. There's just something about the way the water trickles down your breasts that makes him feral. He loves the way you look with your hair soaked and the blissed-out expression on your face. Whether it's first thing in the morning or ending a long day. Nothing relaxes Nick more than a shower with you.

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐊𝐞𝐦𝐩 - Steve never expected to be able to fuck you once he put you in his basement. No, he thought once you found out the truth of everything, you’d want nothing to do with him. But that wasn’t the case at all. He quickly realizes you're just as twisted as he is. So, that's why he loves to fuck you while you're locked away. Knowing that his other victims are listening only causes him to want this more.

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mythicalartistx · 3 months

Text

How Riku has no idea that Riku means so much to Sora

An Analysis through mom

Riku has always been afraid of being forgotten and left behind by Sora. And this is how he is able get manipulated by Maleficent. She tells him his greatest fears, that Sora found new friends and doesn't care about him anymore. She gives him proof letting him watch Sora being silly and argue with Donald and Goofy.

But from day one as soon as Sora is separated, he wants to find Riku. All on his mind is finding Riku (and Kairi too) and when he finds Riku in Traverse Town he is happy and to make sure he isn't dreaming he goes up to him and pulls on his mouth.

Riku is glad he had found Sora and wants to continue to play the role of protector but when it seems Sora can handle himself he doesn't know where he is supposed to fit in. Sora has these new friends and now can handle himself, Riku is afraid of being forgotten.

But throughout kh1 Sora keeps trying to reason with Riku and it's important that his friend sees what's right. And when they close the door Riku tells Sora take care of Kairi.

COM

He doesn't exactly do that.... The first thing he does is wanting to find Riku. That's on his mind. He ventures through castle oblivion in hopes he can find Riku. And when he faces Repliku he is so happy even though his thoughts of trying to find Riku is almost replaced with Naminé.

This Repliku is bitter about that and upset even saying how Sora never care about that or cared about him (being Repliku). But Riku hates how he feels towards his friend and how he wants his friend still even though he believes Sora has forgotten about him saying, You always have wormed your way into my heart," and Sora is confused by this statement.

And once Naminé tells Repliku to stop and he falls back Sora is completely overwhelmed by what happened to Repliku and what did Naminé do to him. This scene is especially good in the novel where it shows Sora holding Repliku.

Later Repliku realizes how true Sora's feelings towards him are (how he cares for him as an individual not being a Riku) before leaving, still Sora is sad he is leaving and still wants to find him.

During Rebirth/Reverse when Repliku fades away into darkness he doesn't mind if he fades away but what he actually cares is that Sora remembers him. He doesn't want to get forgotten by Sora or get mixed up with the real Riku.

Kh2

Sora wakes up and forgets everything in Castle Oblivion and still has the same desire to find Riku. Throughout kh2 all on his mind is where is Riku, is he okay, I really miss him. And it's the most precious thing. He integrates Mickey about it and it isn't until Mickey accidentally slip up that Sora is so happy and jumps for joy.

Another time during land of the dragons when he finds out Riku been there he is excited because it meant he is okay and nearby. He didn't care that he might be with the organization, he just cares about Riku. During the novel, Sora talks about fighting Riku was so fun.

And finally when he actually sees him he goes on his knees crying because he misses him and is happy to finally be with Riku. In the novel he states how happy he is to be fighting by Riku's side and is just bashful about this.

Riku doesn't care that much about himself and thinks less of himself on why anyone would actually care for him. And is surprised when Sora helps him up and brings him through the dark world. He admits in the novel, he is sad Sora is there and didn't want him to fade into the darkness but is glad he isn't alone. Sora seems to precious and important to Riku that he doesn't believe he deserves his friendship.

He is afraid of being forgotten but he accepts that he might not be worth it and as long as Sora is happy that is all that matters. He doesn't realize how much Sora truly cares about himself. They come to the conclusion they both will be okay because they're together.

Even though it's technically not them in recoded data Riku doesn't believe in his worth after how he messed up everything in the data worlds. Sora is sadden by how little he thinks of himself and thinks he is the only one trying to maintain their friendship.

When Data Sora hears him talking to him in the Olympus Coliseum worlds, he is glad to hear Riku's voice. Even when his keyblade gets destroyed Riku comes in and Sora is just happy that he is there. It means everything to him and he doesn't care that he has no way to fight, Sora was determined to save data Riku

BBS

Even ten years prior when Terra gave Riku the ability to wield a keyblade, Sora immediately wants to know about Riku. He wants to know who that man was and if he knew him. In BBS it has them both care for each other. Riku admit how important Sora is to him and wishes to get stronger to protect him while Sora blatantly tells Aqua he likes Riku, he is his best friend. He seems to want to do everything with him and wouldn't hesitate to help him from darkness.

When Ven goes to Sora's heart, Riku notices something is wrong and knows how to help him. Without questioning it, he takes his advice even if it is strange.

DDD

He goes through the exam because Riku felt like he needed to be tested, Sora didn't think either of them needed to. Sora really wanted to take the exam by his side and is a bit sad that Riku isn't there. However through his heart he feels connected to Riku and when things happen Sora knows Riku will be there.

Joshua asks Sora if he wants to give Riku a message, he tells him there's no need because he knows they will see each other soon. On Riku's side he goes through a personal journey of accepting himself despite everything he has done. He doesn't know if he deserves everyone but knows he is lucky to have Sora.

KH3

Riku still doesn't see the full extent to how much Sora cares about him. Sora just wants to be with him through out the entire game. He is constantly worried about Riku especially going into the dark world. Sora wants to join him. And once they lose connection with Riku, Sora is sad and is like see this is why I should have gone.

And since discovering the Gummiphone being able to talk to Riku, Sora constantly thinks about calling Riku and just telling Riku about how cool this place is, when they went to Fransankyoto.

Riku is surprised when Sora comes in to save him the the dark realm. He's glad he is there but doesn't think much of it. At the pre battle Riku doesn't think he means that much to Sora, he's just like any of his other friends. He talks to Repliku and allows Sora to spent time with Kairi.

However Sora is questioning why Riku is alone there and seems to want to spend time with him. Then Riku and Sora are the only ones left. Sora breaks down. Riku wants Sora's happiness beyond anything else and reassures him with his words something only Riku can do. He feels better but still Riku doesn't think his life is that important and sacrifices himself. The expression Sora makes during this scene tells you everything. Sora is hurt that Riku is too doing this.

Riku is extremely important to Sora that when trying to recover him, he is floating in Olympus like he is the most important person ever to Sora.

Riku doesn't believe he means much to Sora. He doesn't see how he's the one that Sora just wants to spend time with and searching for. He rather put Sora's happiness before his own and believes in Sora. He let him save Kairi because he believes in him and his own happiness.

Mom

Riku thought it was Kairi who meant so much to Sora. He didn't believe it was him who was supposed to find Sora. That's why he was so shocked when the fairy godmother told him his dreams were the key and it was him who was supposed to dive to the Quadratum by following Sora's heart.

He didn't realize how important he was to Sora. He kept being selfishly selfless about this. Until he realizes it was him. He is the key. And Riku means so much to Sora, but he doesn't realize how much.

This could be a deep friendship or possibly something more, but he's very important to Sora and Riku just needs to realize it...

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sweet-fading-summer-love · 4 months

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Veils & Vows

Summary - You partake in wedding reception pleasantries while your groom, Elvis takes care of a few business matters. Only when the two of you are back in your hotel room do you get him all to yourself.

Warnings - wedding night sex, oral (f. receiving), p in v, fingering, no protection, smut, missionary sex, mentions of crime/crime family dealings, swearing

WC - 4.4k

Author's Note - I found this photo as I haven't been able to get Elvis off my mind as of late and I had watched Goodfellas last night so the thought came to mind, what if I wrote Elvis in a Goodfellas-esque au, aka a mobster au. That's how this came about. I've got almost 20k of this written already so I figure I post it in a few parts, and make it into a short series.

The Prologue

As a pair of familiar rough hands cupped your cheeks in a warm enveloping kiss, the rowdy applause of your family and friends filled the huge rented ballroom. The reception had started off on a sweet little note as Elvis' toast was made primarily to honor you, but also to honor some of the bigshots and higher-ups in the family who had been gracious enough to attend.

You knew the claps were primarily pointed toward the important men in your family and in Elvis' entourage but that didn't bother you too much. Your crowd was a close one, so close that even a day that was supposed to be yours, had to be divided up nicely to keep everyone happy. That's how it had always been.

Elvis' hand on your hip pulled your body closer to his as he pressed a few nibble-like kisses along your cheek. As he pulled back he stared at you with a small smile, his eyebrows lifted a tinge as his eyes were widened enough to get a real good look at his bride.

"Baby, I gotta go talk with some of the guys, so wait here f'me?"

Just as you had to share the attention on your wedding day, you had to share Elvis as well. But you didn't mind, you couldn't. Whatever Elvis did, it was what made him the man he was, the man you loved.

Your answer was short but soft as your eyes fell onto the way his hand grasped one of yours, "Oh, yeah, sure"

His eyes crinkled in a smile as he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing the finger with your rock of a diamond ring gently, mumbling into the skin, "Thank you Baby."

So for the next 20 minutes you sat quietly at the table, your husband's empty seat keeping you company as you watched Elvis be approached by one crowd of men and then the next. Just about all of the men you had been introduced to.

There was Jerry "Hairy" Schilling, the man got his name because he was always greasing up his hair, so much so that he got 5 years in the can because he left greasy handprints on the window of a car that he'd kept some stolen goods in, he managed to dodge the charges of posession of stolen goods but the car happened to be stolen. What a dumbass.

Then the West brothers who maintained a perfect record at the races, they were raking in more money in the South from betting with those damned bookies than the Texas oil aristocrats. And that's saying something.

There's also Joe 'Diamond Joe' Esposito. He got his name from being part of the notorious group who fixed the 1962 World Series, Yankees win all the way. For those who aren't baseball fans, a baseball field is referred to as a baseball diamond. You only knew because your house was always full of Yankees fans who spat at the tv if an ump so much as called a strike on Mickey Mantle.

Speaking of the Yankees, though Joe DiMaggio couldn't make an appearance he sent over a nice bottle of champagne with his compliments to the both of you.

And that was just the start of it. On your side there were a lot of close family friends who also attended, a bunch of Italian goons, and a few mixed mutts thrown in as well. And that was the family.

"For the family"

You looked up to see Esposito's wife holding out an envelope of cash to you with the biggest smile. You nodded and beckoned her down to you with a finger, hugging her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her cheek as she returned on to yours. She whispered in your ear, "You make a gorgeous bride", before pulling back and pushing the envelope closer to you.

You mumbled a thank you and as you took the envelope you saw the rest of the women beginning to line up with their husbands and their envelopes. Before you had gotten through your third round of thank you's and pleasantries with the wedding guests Elvis was sitting by you once more.

His hand rested on your thigh while his other reached out to help you grab the envelopes and shake the hands of the men after they pressed a kiss to your cheek.

The extravagant wedding was practically paid for by the guests and you even got more money on the side, enough for a few months rent for an apartment, just what newlyweds needed. After all, you couldn't celebrate your union living in your mother's house. And you had told Elvis you refuse to live in a house with men going in and out, you wouldn't do it.

While you were his girlfriend and spent plenty of time in his townhouse you watched with a look of disapproval as his friends and aquantances walked in and out like it were a hotel, ordering food from the cook as if it were a restaraunt.

You refused to make a home out of that, and Elvis had promised your godfather, a very important and influential man in the crowds that Elvis roamed about, that you would have a proper home to be the lady of.

By the time all the crowd had come through with their envelopes of cash you found that you’d made a small fortune from this night alone, and that wasn’t even accounting for the huge pile of gifts that were yet to be open.

As the night carried on, you and Elvis had finally taken part in your first dance, it had taken so long since Elvis didn’t like to dance. And as Dean Martin’s song, “You’re Nobody ‘Til Somebody Loves You”, filled the room he mumbled softly for only you to hear, “Ya know I wouldn’t dance for nobody but you.”

You smiled, “I know”

He beamed a prideful smile as you continued to carry your way through the dance gracefully.

When it had ended Elvis kissed your cheek and passed you over to your late-father’s dear friend, your godfather, Marco, who wanted to take his turn with his dearest goddaughter. Marco pressed a kiss to your cheek and pulled you close to take his turn.

Your eyes drifted to the side of the room, Elvis was conglomerating with a couple of men, one of the men, Frankie Albero, began to gesture wildly and you could hear his voice raise just barely above the music. Elvis sent Jerry a look and Jerry pulled him elsewhere, he had that placating look on his face. Whenever Elvis wasn’t in the mood to deal with someone he had Jerry deal with it like such.

You watched as Jerry led the guy to one of the exits, whispering some assurances likely. You bit your lower lip, whenever Jerry pulled that move, the guy with him usually didn’t return without a busted lip or a bruised eye. But Albero was an important man, he was a made man, something Elvis could never be, so it was more than likely that Jerry was just tasked with getting the guy out of the ballroom rather than roughing him up.

Elvis didn’t want a spectacle to be made at the wedding unless the spectacle was you.

“Princess,”

You turned your head back to Marco who seemed to stare down at you with a knowing smile.

“Ah, yes Marco?”

“Don’t worry about it, the kid’s got it handled.”

You smiled up at him and leaned your head on his shoulder, murmuring softly, “I know Marco”

The two of you danced a few more circles as he asked you how you liked your wedding and if anyone was giving you trouble.

“No, everyone’s been wonderful, don’t worry”

You knew if you said differently your godfather might do something drastic, he was like Elvis in that fashion, things were always a production when it came to concerns of family and loved ones.

Marco told a joke about he couldn’t believe his only goddaughter had married an Irishman. The fact that Elvis had Irish roots had strained your relationship with Marco for a long time. You thought the bind of Catholicism would bring your godfather to like Elvis more but that hadn’t done much.

It was only because Elvis had begun to make a name for himself in the crowds of the city that your godfather warmed up to him. Suddenly there was an Irishman steering his way through groups of made men at the Copa with a charismatic smile and a handshake to every single one of them.

There was suddenly an Irishman looking after the little guy in the guinea neighborhoods, tucking hundred dollar bills into a poor man’s breast pocket just for shining his shoes. That is what had earned Marco’s respect.

Well, that and the fact that Elvis had slipped a couple hundred dollars under the table to a man who roughed up the grocery boy who had catcalled you one time.

Not to mention the fact that Elvis was in with all the supplying men, he had a hand in every jar. He had access to all the best supply runners, their routes, and their loads. It was usually liquor, cigars, cigarettes, and cash. He even liked to keep tabs on meat trucks just for his own enjoyment of the often expensive delicacy.

But it wasn’t for nothing. No. Everybody around him got a piece of the action for supplying him with the information that was deemed invaluable if you were the right man and knew how to run steals and heists. Simply put, if you were Elvis.

But despite all that, Elvis would never be a made man. But he was practically untouchable just as a made man would be. Before he had even married you he was untouchable just from his reputation, and the fact that he was like a fountain of money, he making enough cash to go around.

But now that he was married to you, he truly was untouchable. Your family ran the neighborhood, and the next few blocks after. The way someone would lose a finger for touching you with it, now applied to Elvis as well. He had protection, he had his hand in every cookie jar in the city, and now he had you.

When the reception was over, Elvis had taken you to one of the classiest hotels in the city, he’d telephoned beforehand so that the room was at a temperature you liked, asked that the candy bowls be filled with those caramel hard candy’s that you kept in your clutch every time the two of you had a night out, and had sent your favorite sheets to be placed on the bed, he knew you never liked the sheets hotels provided.

And though it wasn’t the dream honeymoon that many women pictured, like a trip to Hawaii or the Hamptons, you didn’t mind. Being in the crowds that you and Elvis were in, you both tried to remain lowkey with that kind of thing. Your wedding date had been in the papers, so with that information people likely had their eyes and ears on you. The last thing the two of you needed was going to an exotic destination just to get shot in the airport.

Being lowkey was romantic to you, it just made the little things in your relationship much more prominent. And you knew that with Elvis, you didn’t need Hawaii to have a honeymoon with an amount of loving on that would rival an entire whorehouse.

And he proved it as he laid you sprawled along the center of the bed, on the cold, slippery satin sheets. You wore nothing but a robe that was spread open giving Elvis a view of you in all your glory, of course paired with your wedding ring, the edges of the clean cut diamonds were leaving the smallest of tears and rips in the sheets as it glided along the fabric.

He shrugged off his white button-up, and as his hands reached to undo the button and zipper on his slacks, he stopped to stare for a moment and mumble,

“My wife…”

He stared at your body incredulously, leaving you to blush silently and let him. His next words came out a whisper while his hand held your ankle as he stood at the end of the bed half-naked,

“By the graces of God, you’re my wife.”

You smiled softly at his words, “And,” you started before sitting up, now on your knees you crawled toward him to the edge of the bed. With the leverage of the bed your head was at the height of his chest, as you looked up at him he looked down at you, awaiting your words.

“You’re my husband”

Your eyes drifted down to his lips. As you stared at his slightly ajar mouth you absentmindedly shrugged off your robe that was already open, once off you brought your hands up to bury themselves in his hair as you pulled him down to kiss you.

He groaned softly as he leaned into the kiss, you were trying to pull him down onto the bed. You could hear and feel the shuffle of him trying to get his pants and boxers off as fast as he could so that he could fall with you onto the bed.

As he tumbled onto the bed naked, atop you, his touch and scent had tumbled with him. Your senses felt overwhelmed as you could smell the aftershave on his cheek when he pressed kisses along your cheek, a hand in your hair to manuever your head in whatever way he liked.

As his kisses traveled further down to nestle into your collarbone, his free hand roamed to cup the globe of your ass, kneading you like bread as he licked and suckled your skin like candy.

“Oh Elvis,”

He hummed into your skin as his hand on your ass traveled to your middrift. His fingers glided down your body like you were a map, his finger lazily traveling to the destination. And when you let out a surprised squeak and your legs twitched as he grazed your clit, he smiled knowing he found his destination.

You gasped as he rubbed a circle.

“Oh- Oh Elvis…”

His lips murmured lazily against your skin, “Mm what”

Elvis’ hand left your scalp as he needed to tend to himself while his other hand tended to you. You threw your head in a loop as your back arched up with the flicks of his finger on your clit. It wasn’t long till he’d easily dipped a digit into your awaiting core.

You were wet enough that he was able to quickly slide another in.

His hand and fingers were gentle as he fondled your entire pussy with one hand, from a finger dragging across your clit to a few others taking deep plunges into your entrance, it was like heaven.

Your cunt contracted as his fingers curled, you mouth gaped open in a silent moan as he continued the erotically slow but steady pace.

“What is it? What do ya need?”

His kisses halted as he crawled down between your legs, spreading your thighs with a hand as his other continued with their touching and teasing. You gasped softly as you felt him blow on the flushed skin down there.

“Ah…”

He turned to press a kiss along your thigh, now one hand of his focused on pumping his fingers in and out while the other hand’s thumb rolled over you clit in steady circles. His kisses continued up your thigh.

He murmured, “Tell me, I know ya can”

You moaned softly. A hand flew down to nestle in his dark hair while your other grasped at the slippery sheets below you.

“You, hah, I need you Elvis..!”

He smiled softly and placed a gentle kiss between your clit and where his fingers pumped inside of you. Said fingers then pulled out as Elvis' tongue dove in, his nose peeking it’s way inside perfectly.

His moistened hand slid across the sheets as a means to wipe off your natural lubricant before he grabbed the back of your knee, lifting it so that he could get better leverage and cover more ground as he continued to eat you out.

“Elvis..! Fuck, E-Elvis you, I need you…”

Your head fell back completely as his thumb worked in unison with his tongue. You felt yourself falling apart so fast, you felt yourself taking such a dive into the deep end that all you could say was his name, like he was your god giving all you could ever want. Like he was your god who depended on your belief that he would take care of you.

He hummed and growled into your cunt as your legs began to kick wildly, as your grip and pull on his hair into your pussy had tightened, and as your hips pumped upward into him in earnest.

“Oh Elvis! Oh I’m so- Elvis!”

Your eyes flew to the back of your head as your body continued to chase that feeling and your sentence was cut off with a moan of his name as you came.

You could hardly process anything as Elvis went right from that position to lining up his cock while mumbling a few swears. He didn’t give you a grace period as he caged you between his arms and pushed into you swiftly. At the intrusion you let out a high pitched moan and reached for the sheets around you for comfort.

“Grab me Baby, h-hold on f’me okay? Alright Baby?”

His eyebrows were furrowed in discomfort as his body stiffened completely, waiting for you to get yourself settled. When he saw the awkwardness of your arms having to reach up so far, he brought himself down into a low plank above you so that you could easily wrap your arms around him while laying down.

As he slid out he mumbled a low, “fuck…” before pushing back in slowly. You moaned into his neck as he continued on with that movement, working himself into a slow rhythm.

You encouraged him gently after releasing a soft gasp at his cock hitting your cervix.

“Ah, yes, keep going”

He hummed in response and leaned his head down against yours as his hips continued to rock in and out of you in deep strokes, it was almost painful to pull out of the warmth of your pussy. With each exposure of his cock to the room he felt the temperature snap at his skin, then be enveloped in a moment’s notice by your warm walls. It was an almost masochistic cycle that he had to follow through with the reach that special peak.

If not for that moment of ecstasy that he was chasing, he’d be content to just stay inside of you, soaking in your warmth and that snug feeling that your cunt provided him with.

He questioned through gritted teeth, thrusting harder with each question,

“Ya like it? Huh? Ya like that?”

As his thrusts grew sharper you gasped with every single one. Nodding your head with a silent moan as he continued on, only with a faster pace.

“Like it when I fuck ya? Yeah?”

He braced his hands on the bed as your nails dug crescents into his back as his muscles flexed with the sudden roughness and speed. He was close.

“My wife likes it when I fuck her huh? She likes it when I lay her down yeah?”

You let out a strangled moan as he began to plunge into you so fast that his rhythm was beginning to get all out of wack. The lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your ass as he continued with his thrusts, the moans that left your throat in a guttural way, his groans against the skin of your neck, and squelching and air pops as his cock plunged in and out of you made a cacophony of what must be the sounds of good loving.

Suddenly you felt yourself reaching that peak again and as the coil in your stomach snapped and you moaned his name, he growled with a rasp as his hips worked with their own agenda, helping him reach his release as fast as possible.

And when his legs trembled, his body shook, and his groans got drawn out, you knew he’d finished.

He began to slowly grind into you more, as he did so you felt the warmth of his seed spill out of your entrance slightly. He slowly rode out that high, panting, “My wife…” as he did so.

A/N - As I said I plan to make this into a series because I've already written so much and I think there might be someone who might like this, so, if you're that someone just leave any sort of comment and I'll tag you in the next part.

Series Summary: While it was deemed a waste for you to marry an Irishman, completely disregarding your bloodline that led all the way back to the old country, you couldn't help who you fell in love with. Thankfully Elvis had earned the respect of those in your crowd and made a name for himself, he got himself properly inducted into the family business. But just as your life together starts to properly begin, the head of the family would need Elvis to take care of a few things in the casinos of Vegas.

Credits: Photo of Elvis is from the 45 RPM picture sleeve for Wonder Of You/Mama Liked The Roses, the rest is pinterest, and the layout is from canva. This series will also take lots of reference/inspiration from Goodfellas, the Godfather, Casino, and of course a few books I've read on the subject.

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nuttersincorporated · 4 months

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Mickey Mouse does not need your protection

Since Mickey Mouse became public domain, I’ve seen some really wild takes and misinformation going around. Yes, Mickey Mouse is public domain. No, you do not need to protect him. It’s fine if people other than Disney make Mickey Mouse stuff, even if you don’t like the things that are made.

You are not protecting Mickey Mouse. Mickey Mouse is not real. Even if he was, you STILL wouldn’t be protecting him. You’re just sticking up for a megacorporation. Disney has more money and resources than you will ever have and they horde them. You shouldn’t be trying to help them do it.

Disney is a company that loves using public domain properties to make things. They have just tried their absolute hardest to make sure that nobody else could do the same thing. If you think Mickey Mouse should only be used by Disney, you should be upset that Disney made money off public domain stories like Snow White and Rapunzel.

What about things like Winnie the Pooh? Disney didn’t come up with him but they were happy to make money off him. They bought the rights to him and then didn’t share.

‘Ah!’ I hear you say. ‘But Winnie the Pooh actually helps prove our point! When Disney – that poor poor super rich company that should be protected – lost the exclusive rights, a Winnie the Pooh horror movie was made! That’s not in the spirit of the original character!’

Firstly, you can just ignore that movie if you want. I did. Nobody is making you watch it. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Secondly, there are nice Winnie the Pooh stories out there that aren’t by Disney or the original author. The Pooh books by Jane Riordan are lovely. Her stories are much more in the spirit of the original character than a lot of the Disney comics were.

This is an official Disney comic with Winnie the Pooh

This is a picture from one of Jane Riordan’s Winnie the Pooh books

One of them is sweet, kind and in the spirit of the original character. The other is Disney owned and approved.

What would the original author A.A. Milne think of the different adaptions and new works? Well, we don’t know because, at the end of the month, he’ll have been dead for 68 years. However, I can quote one of the original Pooh books about sharing,

And really, it wasn’t much good having anything exciting like floods, if you couldn’t share them with somebody.

Thirdly, Disney does not respect authorial intent.

PL Travers, the author of the Mary Poppins books, did not want Disney to make a movie based on her work. She got coerced into letting them make one. She hated the movie and refused to let them make any more.

What happened after she’d died, the ban on them making more Mary Poppies movies ran out and they got their hands on the rights? They made a sequel.

I think you should be more upset that Disney went against the direct wishes of an author than the fact regular people can now use a character that megacorporation uses. PL Travers was a person. Disney is a company. There is a difference.

I love the original Mary Poppins movie. I don’t care about or like the sequel. However, PL Travers died in 1996. People should be able to use the character now, no matter how you or I feel about those newer stories. Again, you can just ignore them if you want.

The original stories are still there.

Royalties are different to public domain. The profits from PL Travers original books go to her descendants and the Cherry Tree Foundation. They will continue to go there for 80 years after her death and then the royalties will be shared out among any decedents who are alive at that time. The money from those books will continue to go there, no matter what new stories with Mary Poppins get made.

You all seem okay with Disney making money off public domain stories and buying the rights to other stories. Why can't you extend that right to other people?

No one has stolen Mickey from Disney. Disney can and will continue to make money off him. All that’s change is that other people can now do that too.

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sisitrip · 4 months

Text

More Like Me, With You

Palate cleanser from some heavy. Don't know what this is, but it made me feel warm.

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

Mickey’s key’s clatter against their door and Ian stretches on the couch, wiggling his toes in relief. Finally. A rare, full day apart from Mickey had reminded him of what it felt like to not have his husband at kissing distance.

What a shock. He’d hated it.

He’s been askew in his skin all day and his mind sparked chaotic like so many pop rocks on a wet tongue. An empty apartment and being alone with his thoughts has never before, or now, been a good thing for him.

Cold chapped and smiling, Mickey steps into the tropical heat of their apartment. Ian’s set up a trap house tailored to his husband’s tastes and he doesn’t feel guilty at all. The apartment was humidly redolent with dinner - a crock pot full of brisket, potatoes, and the veggie puree he’d snuck in. Cold beer was sitting in the refrigerator and various other items he knows Mickey loves are scattered around the apartment. He probably gets more out of doing these things for Mickey than Mickey does himself. It’s a poorly kept secret that he mainline’s Mickey’s happiness shamelessly.

“Ah fucking yesss,” Mickey hisses when he closes the door behind him and the warmth hits his face. “You’re getting all the blowjobs.”

Ian laughs and drops his book on the coffee table.

“That’s a pretty tall promise, husband.”

Mickey starts shedding his shoes and clothes as he walks over.

“I mean that shit, husband. It’s jungle perfect in here,” Mickey says, finally stripped down to his boxers and tank top. He flops down onto Ian, pulling a laugh from him.

“We aim to please,” he chuckles, wrapping Mickey up in his arms. The cold clings stubbornly to his hair which makes Ian shiver in his own shorts and t-shirt. “How was it without me today?”

“You want a lie or the truth?” Mickey asks, burrowing.

“The truth.”

“It sucked. Not the work, but the rig. That shit’s loud as fuck when you’re not in it.”

Ian smiles and rubs Mickey between his shoulder blades. Loud is code for lonely.

“Sorry I couldn’t be there. Lip rarely uses the emergency child care card.”

Mickey snorts into his neck and hooks a leg over his thigh.

“Fred, good?”

“Perfectly slobbery. He put applesauce in my hair.”

Mickey chuckles. “Fred put his favorite thing to eat on his favorite thing. That kid likes your hair as much as I do.”

He hums and noses into Mickey’s hair, sniffing past the cold, smoke and city smells to find what he’s looking for. When he does, he inhales deeply. “Speaking of favorite things,” he murmurs and smiles when Mickey laughs.

“Fucking sniffer,” Mickey mumbles into his collar bone. “Repeat offender sniffer.”

“Then stop being a human aromatherapy candle,” he teases, sniffing again. He stops when Mickey’s belly rumbles against his.

“Tell me what you ate today and I better not hear Snickers once. Your last dentist appointment was a miracle.”

“I had food.” Mickey shoves his hands under Ian’s back and hides his face. He can feel Mickey trying to cross his lying little fingers.

“Like?”

“Mountain Dew and a candy bar.”

“What’d I say about the Snickers?” he faux gruffs.

“I never said the word Snickers,” Mickey says with a sniff.

He grins, giving Mickey’s temple a peck. “You eat like a bachelor when I’m not around.”

“Then stop ditching me for Fred. He can’t even talk,” Mickey says, nipping his neck.

They lie quietly for a bit, listening to the muffled city sounds and wind pelting snow at their windows. Although the world is ordered now that he had Mickey close, he can’t quite let go of the discomfort he’d felt all day. It was like he wasn’t himself until Mickey was around. As a matter of fact, it’s been a long time since he’d thought about who he was without this soft, heaven-scented man in his arms.

“Mick?”

“Mmmm?”

“Did you feel like yourself today?”

Mickey makes a noise of confusion.

“Uh, kind of?”

“Explain please,” he says, stroking Mickey’s back.

“I mean, it’s having a routine, you know? If it gets out of whack, anyone would feel out of sorts or whatever.”

“Was it because I wasn’t there?” he asks softly.

Mickey pulls back, face comically sad.

“My world caved in,” he begins, sober as a grave.

Ian flushes. Here it comes.

“I looked at the long devastation of the day and nearly gave up because you weren’t there.”

“Shut up,” he says, starting to laugh.

“When I thought the snow would drown me in the hole your absence made, I reached for a potion, nay! An elixir.” Mickey bows his head solemnly. “Yes. A flagon of Mountain Dew. Without it, I might have perished.”

Ian’s laughing hard now. “You’re a dick.”

Mickey settles down, laughing too.

“And you’re in your head again. Stop that shit. You’re Ian, and I’m Mickey even when we’re apart.” Mickey nuzzles into his neck. “But, truth? I feel more like me when we’re together.”

He kisses Mickey’s cheek. “Me too.”

Mickey hums against his neck then stills when his stomach grumbles again.

“Alright, are you ready to eat?” Ian asks, giving him a squeeze.

“Yeah.”

He makes as if to get up. “Come on then. I got brisket on.”

Mickey grumbles and sags his weight down fully, hiding his face in Ian’s shoulder.

“Wait a minute.”

“Why? Thought you were hungry.”

“I am.”

“Then let me up so I can get us some food,” he laughs when Mickey doesn’t budge. “You need to eat, baby.”

Mickey kisses his neck and squeezes close.

“Need this more.”

He liquifies to absolute besotted goo, sliding his hands under Mickey’s tank and down into his shorts, squeezing softly.

“You are several levels of sweet, Mickey Gallagher,” he whispers into his hair.

“It’s the Snickers,” Mickey mutters.

Ian holds him tight, head and heart full of all the things that are completely true about Mickey, but would be brushed off by his husband as romantic nonsense.

“Nope. The candy hasn’t got a damn thing to do with it,” he murmurs, accepting Mickey’s soft kiss.

“Yeah?” Mickey whispers.

“Yeah.”

They curl into each other in the loving humidity of the life they’ve built together, needing nothing more than to be this close for a while.

#gallavich #gallavich fanfic #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #my fic #writing #ian x mickey #shameless #gallavich fanfiction #gallavich fic

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floralcyanide · 10 months

Text

𝐃𝐚𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

Ghostface x Reader

Headcanons of how each of the guys would be as a dad. (No Ghostface)

warnings: mentions of infertility, mentions of illness of a parent, not much else other than that, this is mostly fluff

word count: 1127

author’s note: hiii I know it's been a while since I've written and posted. but I wanted to write a little something for father's day for our fave slahsers. I hope you enjoy!!

masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

Billy:

❈ Billy is such a girl dad, and you can’t change my mind

❈ you end up having twin girls, both of which look just like Billy

❈ they are attached to him in ways you can’t explain

❈ your girls love you, and you love them very much, but their dad is definitely the apple of their eye

❈ Billy spoils the hell out of the girls growing up

❈ they’re still very humble despite them getting everything they want

❈ you and Billy made sure to teach them values

❈ when they’re teenagers, they’re drop-dead gorgeous, which makes Billy nervous

❈ he’s definitely the dad who threatens the boys who date your daughters, even though you tell him to be smart

❈ but, knowing Billy and his past, you know for sure he would definitely kill for his girls

Stu:

❈ Stu is also a girl dad

❈ when your daughter is born, he’s a mess

❈ Stu has this huge smile he can’t wipe off his face every time he looks at your daughter

❈ he takes her everywhere with him when she’s a toddler and buys her any toy or candy she points out

❈ when school starts, you don’t who cries harder, Stu or your daughter

❈ prom and graduation are also very emotional times for Stu as his daughter is now grown up

❈ Stu is protective of his daughter, but not so much that he’d go into a murderous rage

❈ but he still scared the boys in her life enough to where they never hurt her too badly

❈ Stu is ecstatic when your daughter gets married and has children of her own

❈ just as he was a cool dad, he’s now a cool grandpa

Mickey:

❈ Mickey has always wanted a son to teach everything to

❈ so when you find out your baby is a boy, Mickey is beside himself with excitement

❈ he has a whole list of names picked out already

❈ when your son is born, Mickey stares in awe at him and how much he looks like the both of you

❈ he has your eyes and Mickey’s nose and smile

❈ Mickey is the perfect father, getting up to take care of him at night when it’s his turn

❈ sometimes he’ll do it when it’s your turn, too, so that you’ll get more rest

❈ and he’s just enthralled with his son and loves spending time with him

❈ skin-to-skin contact is Mickey’s favorite part of your son being a baby

❈ when your son is old enough to do things, Mickey is over the top with getting him into sports, art, music, and so on

❈ he wants his son to be happy no matter what he chooses to do with his childhood and his life

Roman:

❈ you have both a boy and a girl a few years apart

❈ the girl is older and very sassy, just like her father

❈ the boy is very shy and to himself, also just like his father at times

❈ Roman loves teaching the kids about art and film

❈ your daughter picks up photography, much to Roman’s delight, while your son is into costumes and designing them, which also makes Roman excited

❈ you both decide to send the kids to an art school, and Roman is upset that he won’t see the kids as often as he’d like during their teen years

❈ but he knows they love what they do and need the necessary education for those subjects

❈ once your kids are no longer kids and have graduated university, Roman makes sure that they get good jobs in the industry in Hollywood

❈ watching your little family be so close and working together makes you incredibly happy

Charlie:

❈ Charlie was very terrified when he found out you were pregnant

❈ but god, does he love his son more than anything

❈ your son looks like Charlie spit him out, with his large, round eyes and rosy lips

❈ your son is just like Charlie personality wise

❈ but your son can be very outspoken sometimes, which can make Charlie a little mad

❈ however, Charlie is very patient and learns how to handle your son and his attitude

❈ when your son struggles in school due to attention problems, Charlie researches and does everything possible in order to help his educational needs

❈ when your son graduates high school, he decides to go on to college for something Charlie isn’t a big fan of

❈ but upon seeing how skilled your son is in the career field, Charlie grows happy for him

❈ once your son has a family of his own, Charlie helps him a lot with raising his own son

Richie:

❈ at first, Richie wasn’t too keen on the idea of having children

❈ but when you both find out you’re infertile, his attitude changes

❈ suddenly, he wants to do anything to make you happy, including having children, even if they aren’t your biological ones

❈ you both decide to foster kids for a little while

❈ Richie is surprisingly wonderful with every kid who comes through your household

❈ one kid specifically holds a dear spot in your and Richie’s hearts, so you decide to adopt them permanently

❈ soon, you adopt a few more kids, making your family grow larger

❈ once all your kids have completed school and the house was empty, you realize just how much your unluckiness with fertility changed everything in your and Richie’s lives

Ethan:

❈ when your last living parent falls ill and is no longer able to take care of your little sibling, you have to step up and have temporary guardianship

❈ you and Ethan have been together for a while, but kids haven’t really been brought up quite yet

❈ so it’s weird suddenly having the responsibility shared between both of you for a child

❈ but the weird dynamic quickly becomes habit and routine

❈ Ethan takes your sibling to school, makes breakfast and packs their lunch, helps with their homework, and just about anything you can think of

❈ you and Ethan discuss having children of your own once your parent gets better and has your sibling back in their household

❈ but when your parent doesn’t get better, and it seems your sibling living with you is permanent, life throws another curveball, and you become pregnant

❈ so you and Ethan raise your sibling and child together very happily

❈ Ethan is great with kids because of his personality, and it definitely has reflected onto the kid he helped raise as well as his own child

taglist:

@bridgergf @criminalmindsfan13 @axen-gers @belovedtylerr @bonbekahsfav @jokersgrf @snazzynacho @cobra-kaii @im-a-slut-for-this-man2 @nicepeony @her-violent-delights @justacosplayerlol @chiimiki @radiant-whore @ppanemorfii @teleiophiliac @18lkpeters @vampyrgoff @roryculkinsbf @leilani788

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meiieiri · 7 months

Text

Something about JJK 236 is bothering me

That fight...was awesome, but it could have gone better.

Other than the fact that I'm currently in mourning over our king's garish demise (don't get me wrong, I do want him to be happy in the afterlife and I'm slowly coming to terms with his death, it's just I can't really process all this yet), I'm still a bit confused how we got here so quickly.

I have countless questions and I know Gege will probably brush this off in the coming chapters and pull yet another meeska-mooska-Mickey Mouse Clubhouse move.

But there is one that lingers in my mind up to this day:

Remember during the Fearsome Womb Arc when Yuji and Sukuna deliberated with each other on the possible resurrection or re-animation of Itadori's body via a deathmatch?

Yeah. We all know Sukuna, the king of all curses, is a master at one-shotting his opponent. Just take a look at what he did to our best rose-colored boy who went from this:

To this, in a split second (lmao):

Yeah, yeah, I've read all the “copium” theories from other Gojo fans such as myself who are kinda on the fence when it comes to accepting Gojo's death as being final or not, but, let me bring this back real quick to the matter at hand.

Sukuna went for the head with Itadori. Of course, maybe he did that to shut him up sure, but what I'm getting at is, the head is the singlemost critical point to hit when it comes to sorcery dogfights.

He knows this.

And he probably knows that Gojo Satoru, the darling of the heavens, the uncontested gem of Jujutsu Society, is a reverse cursed technique user. Pretty obvious thing to catch since Satoru had been using RCT the entire showdown to heal his countless critical wounds.

So, Sukuna, in all his centuries of wreaking havoc on the world, should know that the only way to permanently kill a sorcerer who uses RCT is by targeting the head. There were so many instances in this entire deathmatch that we are completely blown away by Sukuna's prowess and overall mastery of Jujutsu.

Can you imagine the amount of practice he's had over the years with other "greatest sorcerer of their generation"s? He knows the ins and outs of Jujutsu like scripture, which is exactly what kept Gojo Satoru on his backfoot for some parts of their skirmish.

Now, here's the thing that's bothering me:

I liken Sukuna as something like a super computer. All that battle experience is readily available to him like some Jujutsu techniques data bank, not to mention, Mahoraga's adaptation clearly gave him yet another advantage in this fight for the title of the strongest.

He knows Satoru Gojo has been frying his brain using Reverse Cursed Technique this entire time, and he's probably seen his former opponents do the same as well. He knows that the only way to kill them is by dealing a devastating blow to the head via decapitation or complete obliteration of the body.

So, my question now is:

Why did he bother cutting Gojo in this particular manner? Why didn't he go straight for the head, since Mahoraga's adaptation blueprint can now allow Sukuna to cut through reality/space itself and therefore bypass Gojo’s infinity non-selectively?

Arrogance now that he's secured his definitive victory? Or the so-called warrior's high? Why leave room for obvious speculation when it could so easily be crushed into smithereens if he just went for the kill?

It's all very confusing. I'll point back to the time when Sukuna swiftly decapitated Itadori.

And I'm willing to bet that that move was deliberate since at the time, Itadori had already been in Jujutsu High for quite some time and Sukuna must have realized that under the tutelage of Gojo and other sorcerers, he must be learning a thing or two about RCT here and there which may have led him to end the fight quickly hence, the resurrection of Yuji Itadori.

Now before, ya'll attack me, I know what manga panel you're gonna throw at me to deconstruct this entire analysis and dismiss it as "copium". So, I'll put this here:

I know it may look like Gojo's entire head has been blown off at this point seeing the pool of blood he's currently lying on. But why is Gege or the editor making the effort to cover Gojo’s head with the text bubble when, logically speaking (and coldly at that), Gojo should be deader than dead? Which he…in theory based on the afterlife sequence, SHOULD be.

And with that whole North/South thing to cap it all off? Though, I wouldn't dwell on that. The wording in that bit was very vague and I’m not really into the habit of over-reading so hehe~

Anyway.

Could it be there's something else in store for Gojo Satoru? Is something else at play here?

Or is this simply a writer's failsafe, just in case Gege wishes to bring back Gojo Satoru so that he'll have a rational explanation as to how that came to be? No one knows. But I think this wasn't some on-the-fly decision by Gege or the editors.

Gege Akutami - though as a writer myself, I find his current choices for the story to be a little questionable with the many gray areas where plotholes could eventually arise - has been deliberate about this story since the beginning, having already mapped out the fate of Fushiguro Megumi.

This panel, the entire chapter, the circumstances we're now currently witnessing is deliberate. And maybe...we haven't seen the last of Satoru yet.

I'll leave this here for everyone to think about. This is all speculation, after all, so don't be mean about it, Jesus. In the meantime, I'll just admire my husband, Suguru, for now and will probably go back to writing my fics~ 💕

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk 236 #jjk theory #gojo satoru #geto suguru #ryomen sukuna #gojo satoru theory #gojo #gojo satoru x reader #i do hope he’s still alive though #please please let this be the case #jjk #gojo is alive agenda

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sam-loves-seb · 11 months

Text

look. I know there are probably a million and a half takes on this, but I had this thought, and it wouldn’t leave my brain, so now you have to deal with it too.

ian is not the sun.

ian is the moon, and mickey is the sun.

mickey is the sun, at least in ian’s eyes he is, because ian’s whole world starts ends and revolves around his husband. the pull mickey has on him feels like a gravitational orbit, stronger than any crush or infatuation ever has been, and no matter how much distance (physical and metaphorical) ian puts between them, he always—always—comes back to mickey. and mickey, well he burns hotter and brighter than just about anyone else they know, all barely checked temper and hot seething rage, and hell hath no fury like a mickey scorned because he will burn you faster than any fire ever could. and god, his eyes—do not get ian started on mickey’s eyes—they’re as blue as a cloudless sky on a summer’s day, all warm and wide and vast as the horizon, and ian could stare at them for hours the way he’d stare up at the sky in the backyard as a kid. and yeah, maybe sometimes you can’t look directly at mickey, like maybe you’ll get hurt if you stare for too long, but ian’s best friends are a pair of sunglasses and a bottle of spf, so he’s not exactly new to the sun game, and if he’s the only one who knows how to handle it—that’s more than fine with the both of them

and ian—ian is the moon the way mickey needs air to breathe, because yeah, maybe he’s all smiley and lukewarm to everyone he fucking meets, but that’s not ian, not the real ian, that’s just good fucking manners or whatever shit ian says, but mickey doesn’t care about that. mickey cares about the ian that’s only for him, the one that is there for him through everything, even the bad shit, like the little sliver of moonlight slipping through the curtains on a really dark night, the little bit of comfort that’s enough to get him through the dark times and keep going until morning, like the guiding light on the sidewalks when he wanders home from work or the alibi or whatever late at night when the streets are empty and he’s alone. because mickey’s never really alone, not now that’s for sure, but not even then, when there were miles (metaphorical and literal) between them, because mickey would look up at the moon through the bars on the rec room window or the patio from his apartment in mexico and he’d think of ian, and his stupid fucking lopsided curved grin creeping up on his face like a crescent moon in its own right, and it’d be enough to get him til morning. even now, when he can’t sleep and he’s restless, he still looks for the moon, only now he doesn’t look out the window—why would he when he has the real thing on the other side of his mattress—he throws an arm and a leg over his husband like he’d lasso the moon if he could, and he pulls ian closer.

ian goes through phases, up down then up again, and they’re manageable, almost predictable if you study it close enough, like the phases of the moon or the flow of the tide, in and out, waxing and waning, and mickey loves all versions of ian, the full bright smiles and the dark barely there days, and every variation in between. because ian is still ian, no matter what stage he’s currently in, the same way the moon is still that bright glowing rock in the sky night after night, and mickey is happy to get pushed and pulled like waves on the shore under ian’s influence.

mickey studies the galaxies printed on ian’s body, across his chest and stomach, his shoulders and his arms, even the little ones dotting the backs of ian’s hands, and mickey finds peace in the stardust that paints ian’s skin, in the constellations he maps out on ian’s face with his lips, and even tho the freckles there are more faded then when they were kids, mickey still knows where every single one of them is. he brushes his fingers over the new one above his eyebrow, the one ian got after spending a little too much time with his tomato plant the other day, and mickey feels like an astronomer discovering a new star that he just never would’ve been able to see five, ten years ago on his own personal night sky, but he’s here to see it now so he kisses his latest discovery and falls asleep dreaming of a name for his newest constellation

#nobody asked for this bit it wouldn't leave my head #these are the kinds of things i'm thinking about at any given time #idek if this makes sense but here you go anyways #gallavich #sun mickey #moon ian #sun and moon #shameless #gallavich ramblings #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #mickey x ian #inner monologue #shameless us #ian and mickey

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fandom-imagines-stories · 6 months

Text

Even Serial Killers Sleep

Mickey Altieri x Reader

Words: 805

Summary: Being the only solace for a man with murderous tendencies isn’t alway easy, but for you, it’s worth it.

Notes: Nothing to see here. *cough* Just move along. (Look, I’ve accepted my obsession with him at this point. Let me write my little psycho fluff pieces.)

More 80s/90s movie imagines: HERE

Okay, maybe you should have been asleep.

No, you definitely should have been asleep. It was almost four in the morning and you had class in just a few hours.

You had tried, of course. But no matter how long you laid in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, the streetlights outside casting shadows off your blinds like the cucoloris of old noir films, you just couldn’t get your brain to shut the fuck up and turn off.

When you heard the quiet click of your apartment door open and close, any drowsiness that might have crept into your wired mind dissipated with a shot of adrenaline.

You lived alone.

Your hand reached for the kitchen knife your boyfriend told you to keep by your bed, knocking your alarm clock off the nightstand in the process. The plastic device clattered to the floor, a chunk of the corner cracking off and spitting across the room.

“Shit,” you winced.

Footsteps creaked just outside your door. Your heart pounded in your chest. The doorknob turned slowly. You held the knife out in front of you with a trembling hand, ready to cut down whatever psycho was on the other side.

The door swung open, revealing black boots, dark-wash jeans, and a t-shirt covered in blood.

You let the knife fall to your side with a sigh of relief.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

Mickey’s shoulders fell. “Just you? I just killed two co-eds and all you have to say is it’s just you? What the fuck, babe?”

“Sorry,” you giggled, standing on your toes to kiss him on the cheek, “I just thought you were, well, a serial killer.”

“Honey,” his Cheshire cat grin made your stomach flutter, “I am a serial killer.”

You put your hands on your hips. “Well, are you here to kill me or go to sleep?”

He frowned, kissed your forehead, and slipped past you into the bedroom. He took off his boots and looked ready to climb under the covers.

“Ah ah,” you exclaimed with a scolding glare. You pointed to his bloodstained t-shirt. “Not on the bed, please, baby.”

Mickey grabbed onto the back collar and pulled it over his head. He tossed it into the trash to be burned later. He stripped to his boxers and fell back onto the bed.

“Happy?” He snarked.

“Thank you.” You smiled and jumped in beside him.

Mickey pulled you up against his bare chest, arms locking around you like he didn’t want to let go. You pressed your lips to his collarbone.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shrugged. “Eh. It was kinda boring. Too easy. When the one went to get beer, she even said ‘I’ll be right back.’ I mean, that’s breaking the biggest rule of all horror movies.”

“I’m sure that’s what she was thinking when you stabbed her.”

He craned his neck to look at you. “Are you making fun of me?”

“...” You walked your fingers up his sternum. “No.”

Hands gripped your hips and in one swift motion, you were on your pack with a pair of dark, menacing eyes hovering over yours while his body pinned you down.

You probably should have been scared, with images of his hand, which now gripped your wrist, taking a blade and killing your classmates. But you just weren’t. Craziness and all, he was your Mickey. And he knew that better than anyone.

His lips crashed into yours, fueled by frustration at first, but then morphing into something sweeter. Soft. He wasn’t that way with anyone but you. When he pulled away, you tried to hold back a yawn. Unfortunately, it didn’t work.

“Maybe we should-” Yawn. “Get some sleep,” you said.

Mickey curled up beside you with his head on your stomach, tracing lines over the fabric of your nightshirt- which was one of his stolen t-shirts.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?” He asked.

You ruffled his brown hair and smirked. “Because if you were going to kill me, you would have by now.”

He pouted his lips, crawling his way back to yours. He nipped at your neck and spoke with that slight whine you couldn't help but smile at.

“Maybe I’m building up to it.”

You tugged on his hair slightly, making him bite a little bit harder.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Mickey looked up at you, his usual goofy grin returning. “When you least expect it.” He jabbed his fingers into your sides, making you squeak.

“Mickey!” You squealed.

He switched off the light with his best mock-evil laugh. You rolled on top of him, legs on either side of his hips.

“Who’s the helpless victim now?” You challenged.

He sat up, flipping you onto your back once again with impressive speed. “Try again?”

“Please don’t kill me, mister Ghostface,” you teased.

“That’s what I thought,” he smirked.

So much for getting some sleep.

#mickey altieri #timothy olyphant #mickey altieri x reader #scream #scream imagines #ghostface

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demxters · 10 months

Note

☆ for blurb night requests; their first 'i love you'. Where did it happen, how did it happen? Who said it first, was it early into the relationship?

—THOSE THREE WORDS

frat!jake seresin x f!reader

wc: 825

warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), mentions of personal insecurities

catch up with jake and ace here!

»»————- ♠︎ ————-««

Jake knew he loved you long before the two of you actually got together. Now that the two of you have been official for six months, those three little words have been dying to slip off the tip of his tongue.

At first it was easy to keep it in. Having you at a distance and not fully being able to call you his has helped him keep his emotions at bay. Everything has gotten ten times harder since being able to have you completely.

Yet despite the ache and desperation in his heart to say it out loud and shout at the top of his lungs for all of the world to hear, he kept his mouth shut.

Jake knows you’ve had it rough when experiencing love from the people around you. It took you some time to accept that he wanted to be in your life without wanting anything in return. So he didn’t expect you to love him right away either. No matter how much he wanted to tell you how he felt, he knew you needed time.

Even though he was close to bursting at the seams, he would wait. He would forever if he needed to.

So he waited… and waited…and waited.

Until three months later, exactly nine months since you got together, it happened.

You were at The Hard Deck with the rest of your friends. After a stressful week of school and work, you all took a much needed break. And where better than to unwind at your favorite bar? Though constantly inhabited by members of the Navy and their alike affiliates, the bar still felt like home. Your little group was welcomed with open arms and even given a name based on an actual Navy squadron, “The Daggers.”

As you sat on Jake’s lap on one of the stools near the billiard tables, your heart swelled with the feeling of unconditional love for the people around you.

You felt love for Natasha. Your best friend and confidant. The closest person you have to a sister.

You felt love for Javy for being the best support system for both your boyfriend and best friend.

You felt love for Bob, Bradley, Reuben, and Mickey, who always have your back through whatever comes your way.

Most of all, you felt love for Jake. This love was different from the kind you felt for everyone else. This was the kind of love that you felt from your head all the way to the tips of your toes. The kind that you could feel even when he’s far away. The kind you never thought you’d be deserving enough to be given.

In this moment, love was the only thing you could feel. Your heart was begging you to let him know.

Jake’s chest is rumbling against your back as he laughs at Javy’s inability to use a pool cue, despite Nat’s coaching. He’s caught off guard when you suddenly shift on his lap, swinging yourself to the side and hanging off his neck.

You nose gently at his cheek and he grins. Resting your cheek on his temple, you sigh.

Jake’s arm that’s wrapped around your waist tightens at the contact. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

“Nothing,” you slur happily. “Jus’ love you is all.”

He swears his heart stopped beating. “What did you say?” He’s on high alert now, worried he might have misunderstood you.

“I said I love you.”

He taps your cheek softly, asking you to look him in the eyes. He needs to know that this is real—that what you’re saying isn’t a symptom of intoxication. “Baby, I need you to say it again.”

Your lips quirk up in confusion as you hold yourself up to look at him. “I just did.”

He shakes his head with a playful roll of his eyes. “Humor me, will you?”

Your smile widens. You cup his face in your hands and you only hope he can feel just how much you mean what you’re saying. “I love you, Jake Seresin.”

His shoulders shake in breathless laughter. Jake has never felt so happy and relieved in his life. “I love you too.”

The rest of the bar melted away and it was only Jake and you. Your mind was only full of one thought: Jake. You didn’t see the knowing looks your friends shared nor did you hear Penny ringing the last call bell.

Jake wanted to kiss you so bad but he knew that you weren’t the most comfortable with kissing in public. So he did the next best thing by securing you in his arms and pressing you as tightly to his side as possible.

“I love you. So much,” he emphasizes as he leans into you.

“I love you more.”

He’s rolling his eyes again at your remark. “Not possible.”

With a shrug, you plant a discreet kiss onto the shell of his ear. “Let’s agree to disagree.”

a/n: i am having too much fun with these, everyone say ty fe for the jake and ace content

tgm taglist: @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl @t-nd-rfoot @dempy @ollyoxenfrees @potato-girl99981 @averyhotchner @2guysonascooter @loveforaugust @blue-aconite @fandom-life-12 @stiles-banshees @iamdannyday @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @breezemood @eli2447 @angelbabyange @finelytaylored @pono-pura-vida @hecate-steps-on-me @blueoorchid @aviatorobsessed @blackwidownat2814 @hallecarey1 @averagereader35 @laneylovesglen @atarmychick007 @kajjaka @urfavelocagirl @clancycumber230 @memeorydotcom

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin oneshot #hangman x reader #hangman x f!reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman oneshot #frat!jake seresin x reader #college!au #hangman x ace 📚#loving you universe #demxters writing

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normal-internet-user · 1 year

Note

Same thing (I don't know if the last one said 'x reader' or '& reader', but the difference is platonic versus romantic, as an fyi)

Rottmnt & female!reader where Y/N has the sort of big-sis presence April has, but she basically adopts everyone she meets, and her thing is to give them nicknames that relate to something they do or reminds her of them (and she gets mad if anyone else uses them). Torts kinda short-circuit the first time she refers to them by the given nicknames, and she doesn't even realize (but when she does, she kinda blows it off)

~Can be Raph x reader also because he would absolutely melt at a s/o as protective over his brothers as he is~

This is definitely not because I often see Raph angst and think "Nooo bubby it's ok!"

Or Donnie is Tinker. Cuz he likes tinkering

Mickey is also bubby but also lil'Mike

Leo is Baby Blue

Don't bully me this is my head it controls me I don't control it

~🌺👸

This is INCREDIBLE Anon! Don't worry, I'm working on your other asks, but this one CALLED to me! (I did make it romantic with Raph, because he is my favorite boy 😌.)

RISE BOYS WITH A BIG-SIS READER.

Leo:

Leo adores you.

He loves spending time with you,

And it's kinda a competition between him and Donnie to see who can keep your attention.

Raph is winning by default though.

Leo loves that even though you're like a big sister,

You nowhere near as over bearing as Raph.

But he knows you still worry,

So he trys to tone it down a bit.

He gets so genuinly happy when you laugh at his jokes.

Like he will literally, hug you everytime you laugh.

Without fail it makes his day.

As for his nickname,

He's totally not a supporter.

At least that's what he tells everyone.

"Hey, Baby Blue, help me with these boxes, will ya?"

*Dramatic sigh*

Leo goes to you for advice on things he doesn't want the others to know.

Like if he's nervous about how they'll react to something,

He'll go to you.

Because you don't judge.

You just listen, and once he's done talking,

You'll tell him what you think, and how to go about the situation.

Leo loves you, and the second you stepped into their lives, he dubbed you, "Big Sis (Name)."

Donnie:

Donnie likes having you around.

At first he was kinda apprehensive,

But the minute you took on the role of older sister, his vision kinda changed.

He enjoys spending as much time with you as possible.

Mostly because of how good you are at listening.

Never, not once, have you ever interrupted his rambling, or explainations.

You just sit there, and wait untill he's done to ask questions.

And he loves that.

That's another reason why you're the first to see a newly finished project.

Because every single time, you wait for him to stop talking,

Then you tell him how cool it is, and how proud you are, and ask questions about it.

Ngl,

The first time this happened, he teared up.

But don't worry, they were happy tears.

As for his nickname,

He is not a fan,

He will scoff everytime.

"There you are Tinkerbell! I thought I lost ya."

"Scoff!"

You didn't think I meant an actual scoff did you?

Lol.

You have to try and keep Donnie from doing stupid stuff to test his inventions.

And if you aren't there to prevent the stupidity,

You're always there to bandage him up, and scold him.

But he doesn't mind, he knows it's just because you care.

Mikey:

Mikey absolutly loves you.

Whenever you come to visit,

He'll stop whatever he's doing to give you a hug.

Doesn't matter what it is he's doing,

You will get that hug.

His favorite thing is drawing you pictures.

You have so many, you can barely see your wallpaper anymore.

But who cares?

You probably have the best decorated room in all of New York thanks to those drawings.

Mikey LOVES his nickname.

It makes him feel special.

"Where's my Little Dumpling!"

"That's me! I'm her Little Dumpling!"

Mikey does his best to impress you,

He just wants to make you proud.

So he likes to show off when your around,

And it scares the crap out of you.

Just make sure you don't turn your back for to long,

Because he will accidentally hurt himself.

You have pretty much taken on the role of mother around Mikey.

Raph:

The second, Raph met you he was whipped.

Poor boy short circuted for like a full 5 minutes.

He loves how much you care for his brothers like their your own family.

He thinks it's amazing that someone else can love them like he does.

If they ever stress him out,

He'll talk to you about it because he knows you can relate.

The two of you are pretty much parents to three extremely chaotic children.

Raph loves that you give everyone nicknames,

He thinks it's cute.

He loves his nickname,

And he gives you one of your own.

"Big Red! come help me look for my backpack, I lost it!"

"Sure thing Cutie Pie!"

Raph invites you over as often as possible.

Movie nights,

Just some regular old quality time,

Anything he can do to have you over.

He just loves spending time with you.

You two are always trying keep the younger ones from accidentaly killing themselves.

And it is not an easy feat.

But hey,

You two are trying your best.

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

There you go Anon! I hope I wrote this to your liking. It's kinda rushed, but I personally love it.

#tmnt #x reader #tmnt x reader #raphael x reader #rottmnt #rise!raph x reader #donnie x reader #leonardo x reader #leonardo x reader tmnt #rise!donnie x reader

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greenorangevioletgrass · 2 years

Text

it's classified | b.r.b. (2/2)

<<<read part 1 here>>>

pairing: bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x actress!reader

summary: what was supposed to be a simple one-night stand during the training for your upcoming movie turns into an epic strangers-to-lovers-to-enemies-to-friends-lovers adventure… 10,000 feet in the air.

word count: 4.9k

warnings: language, more behind-the-scenes nerdiness, mention of menstrual cramps, La La Land reference lol, mutual pining, idiots in love, fluff, smut [dirty talk, oral (f), fingering, overstimulation, protected sex], rooster is secretly a softboi, reader is so stubborn skjdhfksjdhf

notes: here we are, part 2! they're my new precious baby can't you tell? please join me in this dumpster fire. reblog, send me asks, talk to me bc a bitch is horny, okay???? happy reading!

✨ i do not have a taglist. follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass to get notified for my latest words <3 happy reading and please reblog if you liked it! ✨

***

iv. Jimi Hendrix — Purple Haze / John Mayer — Do You Know Me

The first couple of weeks are rough. The flight training is hell —even when the G-Force doesn’t feel as bad and you start to enjoy the view of the mountains and the sea and everything else in between, you’re still locked in the box with Rooster. Day in, day out.

The only reprieve in this pre-production is the filmmaking workshop. Not only will you be flying in the actual jet, but you will also have to handle all the technical aspects while you’re in the air. Sound and makeup and props and cinematography… everything that has to do with filmmaking —and nothing with Rooster. At least on those days, you get a break from his insufferable mug.

“Morning.” The man in question walks into the classroom in his khakis, fitted to his form, taking the empty seat right in front of you.

“Um, what are you doing here?” You lean forward over your desk, whispering quietly. Careful not to raise any attention.

He turns around, resting his elbow on your desk, and answers quite matter-of-factly, “They asked us to come in. Something about making sure everyone’s on the same page to get the lighting and the framing and the… everything right.”

Like clockwork, the door opens again, and this time Lieutenants Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia and Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin stroll in, deep in conversation with the movie’s leading man John Cho. They take the front row seats, greeting the class with a brief nod.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. “That’s… great. Welcome to filmmaking.”

“Happy to be here.” To everyone, it sounds like ordinary passing niceties. But you know better. You hear the hint of sarcasm in his voice. The pettiness of making your day absolute dogshit with his presence.

The two of you exchange a tight, wry smile as Scott, the first AD, opens up the session. There’s no snarky remark, no quippy comebacks. Not when anyone else is around —or the comm lines are open. Neither of you would risk being less than professional in the workplace. No matter how much you detest each other. No matter if your effort to deter each other from this project only seems to only bring you closer together.

As the old saying goes, you make plans and Kevin laughs and assigns Rooster as your designated pilot.

Which is why you’re now strapped into the cockpit with four cameras in your face, a makeup pouch hidden in your flight suit, and a notebook scribbled with cheat sheets of instructions and technical notes. Hovering above the California mountains, 1,000 feet in the air.

“So what’s our plan here, Houdini?” Rooster says over the comms.

He damn well knows what the plan is. Whether he asks to test you or let you take the wheel as ‘in-flight director’, you have no idea. “I need the sun on my 2 o’clock. When I call ‘action’, we’re gonna head north and floor it while I say my line, and then we do a hammerhead.”

“Up or down?”

So he was testing you. “If we go down, we’ll crash,” you say it like it’s obvious —because it is. But you confirm anyway, “Hammerhead up, Rooster.”

He chuckles. “Copy that. Ready when you are.”

Today, of all days, you’re not gonna let Rooster rain on your parade. You stare at the panel before you, giddy as you press the mic button, “Sound speed…”you announce with a clap to mark the track. “Camera rolling…” you straighten in your seat a little. “Let’s go. First take of the shoot. Scene 49, shot 13, take 1. And…” You take a deep breath, and hear Rooster doing the same. Inhale… exhale…

“Action!”

You’ve played characters which transformed your appearance and mannerisms in small, intense dramas set in Butt Fuck Midwest. You’ve acted opposite tennis balls and green screens in those movies with more money than sense. You’ve been through the wringer. But never in your life would you have imagined playing a pilot on the back of an actual, accelerating F-18 over real terrain.

And everything else falls away. There’s just you and the sky and the story.

No more airsickness. No more nerves. No more games with Rooster.

Even he seems to understand that. Since that day, he’s gotten off of your back a little bit when you’re in the air. Things aren’t in great terms, by any means, but at least there’s no backhanded remarks. None of the usual unease. The two of you just stayed in your own lanes.

“We got you, Trickshot. I got the bandit on my sight. Locking target…” your voice is calm, even at top speed. “Oh, shit, shit, shit!” The aircraft does an aileron roll, maneuvering a full 360-degree. You let the cameras roll for a moment, taking off your mask as you breathe a sigh of relief as the jet goes upright again.

“Nice,” you hear Rooster say under his breath as soon as you call ‘cut.’

“What?”

“Nothing.” There’s a slight pause, and you can imagine the side-eye he always does. “Reset?”

“Yeah. Let’s… do it again.”

The butterflies in your stomach are pleasant, and you’re sure it’s the adrenaline from pulling sustained G’s on low terrain. Not so much from things… easing up between you and Rooster.

Never from Rooster.

But things do ease up. You’re not quite friends, and at this point you’re not expecting to be, but things dissipate into a more… civil acquaintance. A working professional relationship. The kind where you give each other opinions about the work.

“I like the previous one better,” he casually comments during a quiet lull one day.

You’re in the middle of adjusting your helmet for continuity, and you stop dead in your tracks. “You were paying attention?”

“‘Course. I had to.”

You’re not sure which one is more surprising; that he’s listening in on all the takes you’ve done, or that he’s right. Come to think of it, it’s probably the first time you’ve actually agreed on something. And it’s… not too shabby.

Not too shabby at all.

But of course, not every day is a good day. Some days, like today, you’re filming an intense dogfighting scene while having the most excruciating period cramps. You’ve taken some ibuprofen earlier, but either it has worn off or the cramps multiply with the G-Force, but it doesn’t seem to be working —if any, you seem to be in even more pain.

“So, from the top?”

If you weren’t in so much pain, you would’ve pointed out how he’s using performance lingo now. “Yeah, yeah. Give me a sec.” A deep breath as you brace yourself. And another. “Alright, let me just set it up real quick —” a squeezing pain shoots up your spine and you let out a strangled grunt.

“All good back there?”

“Mm-hm. Just… just cramps is all.”

“Stretch your legs. Try wiggling your toes.”

You chuckle ruefully. “It’s not that kind of cramps.”

“What —oh. Oh. Shit. Um… Do we —do we need medic? Do we need to land?”

“What, and leave your boy Hangman hanging?” you chuckle wryly, throwing a two-finger salute at the pilot in the jet hovering next to yours. Behind you is Kevin in the Cinejet, ready to shoot the dogfight sequence from a bird’s eye view. There’s no way in hell you’re tapping out now. “Nah, it’s cool. Let’s do it again.”

“Right…” the hesitation is palpable in his response, but he goes along anyway. “But you head over to the infirmary when we’re done, okay?”

You almost forget how caring he can be, even amidst the chaos and the simmering animosity. He doesn’t pull back on the aerobatics, although he’s a lot steadier in between takes—even more so than usual. He follows up on that promise as soon as you hop out, and tightly offers to help you. You wave him off, saying it’s fine I’m fine, gritting your teeth as the muscles inside you contract painfully. He notices, undoubtedly, but he gives you space and lets you walk yourself to the med bay. It’s… sweet.

What you don’t expect is seeing him in the basecamp hangar just an hour later. Sitting in a quiet corner, out of the crew’s way —a bottle of water in one hand and his phone in the other. Hair mussed up from the helmet, a furrow between his eyebrows as he focuses on his screen.

You’re on the way to the video village, but you can’t help making a beeline towards him. “What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to fly John out.”

“I let Fanboy take the wheel,” he looks up at you and immediately scoots over, and you try not to think about the row of empty seats around him. It’s only polite to take the seat he’s inadvertently offering you. “It’s not everyday he gets to fly Hikaru Sulu himself.”

“Oh, that’s right. He’s a Star Trek fan.” You fondly recall the unmistakable font on the pilot’s helmet.

He nods. “You, uh, you good?”

“Better now.” You lean back against the chair, and tilt your head to the side like you’re letting him in on a secret. “I don’t know if you’ve ever pulled 7 G’s while you’re bleeding from your core and your insides are tearing itself apart, but that’s… an experience.”

You swear you hear him smile a little. “I don’t think I have. But you held up really well.”

“Thank you,” as soon as it comes out of your mouth, you realize it’s not just for his compliment. Or for caring.

For everything.

“Nah, it’s cool.” He seems to get it, if the pensive looks on his face was any indication.

“I know things weren’t always easy between us. We got off on the wrong foot —”

“Oh, I think we got off on the right foot,” he corrects you, somewhat amused, “until you stepped on it, steel-toed boots and all, broke the bones.”

You see the mischievous glint in his hazel eyes—the one that goes along with his corny one-liners— and you laugh. “Come on, will you let me have my moment here? Shit.”

He laughs with you, quiet but warm. It’s probably the first time you shared anything more than a gruff hmph in months, and it feels… nice.

“Okay, okay. You were saying?”

You turn to look at him —really look— and suddenly you’re overcome with the need to hold his hand. You don’t, of course, but you settle for the next best thing. “It’s just… I’m glad that we work well together. Despite everything.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it, it’s…” he brushes it off. “I mean, I’ve never done anything like this before either, and it wouldn’t have been the same without you.” His eyes find yours, and you question, is he still talking about flying? “You’re really good up there —I mean, I wouldn’t know shit about acting or directing, but you’re… tough. And efficient.”

It’s a funny compliment, but you take it. It puts you at ease, knowing that neither of you has a good enough grasp of the situation to act cool. “Thanks, Roo-Roo.”

He scrunches his nose, but his smile is palpable. “Don’t call me that.”

“Okay,” you chuckle.

“I’m serious, Houdini. It’s bad for my rep.”

“Sure it is.”

There’s no edge to his warning, just as there’s no stiffness in your answer. It’s a light, familiar banter that the two of you so easily fall back into. For a second, you wonder how you’ve gone this long without it. It’s one of the best things about him. This light, affable air around him, whether you’re tumbling in his sheets or flying in his jet.

(Never the former. Not anymore.)

A jet taxis back into the tarmac, fresh from a flight, and the two of you watch John and Fanboy hop out of the plane, talking animatedly as they walk back into the hangar. It warms your heart to see that, knowing full well the buzz, the adrenaline of a flight well done yourself.

“You were right, by the way.” you nudge Rooster’s knee with yours.

“Hm?” He makes no effort to move his leg, and for a nice, quiet moment, you’re just sitting knee-to-knee. Comfortable. As intimate as it can be.

And with the orange sky sprawling outside, you’re ready to admit it,

“It is so much more than clouds and oceans from a tiny window.”

***

v. Melt — Stupid in Love / Taylor Swift — Cornelia Street

Rooster is a friend.

He works well with you at rehearsals in the wooden aircraft mockup, clear as precise as he is on the field. In the air, he stays in his lane —although his dry, off-the-cuff remarks are always a nice addition to your flights.

And in between all of that, you learn new things about him everyday; where his callsign came from, why he thinks tea is just brown garbage water, how he likes musicals and old romcoms —a fact he’s embarrassed about, until you unabashedly admit that you like the same thing.

If that revelation turns into a movie night at your place, and said movie night becomes a regular thing, you try not to think about it too much. In fact, you try your damnedest not to think about it at all. Rooster is a friend, and friends hang out and watch movies together… right? The fluttery feeling in your stomach is completely baseless.

Completely without any valid reason.

“I still think his character is an insufferable fuckhead who takes jazz too seriously,” Rooster turns up his nose, looking at Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone on your TV screen, “But when they started floating and dancing and shit… ugh!”

“I still can’t believe you’re a sucker for this kind of movie,” you shake your head at him with an amused grin.

“Look. With everything that goes down everyday at work, I need something light, low-stake, and as far from my job as possible. And seeing people dance among the stars and all that… it’s like a massage for my brain,” he hums in satisfaction, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. “What about you?”

“Hm? What about me?”

“You do movies, you’re watching a movie. Doesn’t this still feel like work to you?”

“Well, yes and no. There are times where I watch movies to study, but I also like doing it just for kicks, you know?” you answer thoughtfully. “Besides, I’ve gone through all the stages of grief with La La Land.”

“Why?”

You take your time to craft your next words delicately, without sounding like a pathetic humblebrag. “The, uh… director wrote it with me in mind.”

“What?!”

“Yeah…” you wince. “Damien approached me before he even had a script. We workshopped drafts after drafts after drafts… and then the studio decided I wasn’t a big enough name to sell the movie, so.” You shrug lightly. It’s not so much the memory that makes your heart twist, but rather the quiet look of guilt washing over him. It was his choice of movie, after all.

“I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have —you know.”

“Nah, it’s cool. The movie turned out great. And I turned out fine. I mean, look at me, I’m in Top Gun, for fuck’s sake.”

He puts his arm around your shoulders comfortingly, although you feel your pulse picking up from the contact. “And you’re killing it.”

“Thanks, Roo.” You allow yourself to lean on his shoulder. The smell of sunscreen and aftershave is faint this time, but it’s still the same embrace. Same warmth.

Same man.

The featherlight patterns he draws on your bare arm feels so loud in the silence. You can almost see the buzzing heat emanating from your skin. Time slows down, and opportunity presents itself the more you try to repress it. And at this point, you’re not sure you have any strength left to fight it.

Instead, you bury your face deeper into him, pressing kisses along the broad plane of his shoulder. Up his neck. Along his jaw. Chaste. Tender. You half-expect him to pounce on you —to take the reins on this drawn-out affair— but he… doesn’t. He just melts into you. Letting you close the distance to his lips.

It feels like a fever dream. Your body moves on its own accord —deepening the kiss, straddling his lap, touching him everywhere— but your mind… There’s so many thoughts, one conflicting with the other, that you don’t even know where to start.

“God, I want you so bad…” he mutters under his breath, mouthing your breasts over your clothes.

And honestly, why would you deal with the chaos in your head when you can enjoy this?

Roo hikes up your shirt, his rough callused hands gentle against your skin as he tugs it over your head. He unclasps your bra with one hand, mouth hot against your soft flesh and diamond-hard nipples. It’s easy —too fucking easy to fall into this… routine, if you could even call it that. You’ve only been here twice, but he touches you like he knows you.

“Can I taste you?“ Bradley quietly whispers, and you realize, this is the only thing he hasn’t done. “Please?” He tugs at your lower lip with his teeth, teasing. Pleading. “Been thinking about it for ages…”

Jesus. This man is gonna be the death of you.

His tongue slips into your mouth again, filthy and messy and you’d laugh at how much this screams ‘cheesy 80s romance’ if you hadn’t forgotten how words work. “Well?”

You look at him like it’s obvious—because it is.

“Need you to say it.” There’s a smirk in his sing-songy voice.

“Roo…” You blink heavily at him. “Eat my fucking pussy, please.”

His hands are on your waist and the next thing you know, you softly land on your back on the couch. He finds the waistband of your shorts and pulls everything down in one go, yanking them off and throwing it over his shoulder. His mustache tickles you as he kisses your ankle, along your calf, the inside of your knee. Teeth grazing as he makes his way up your inner thighs. Tongue licking up the dripping arousal on your cunt. And just like that, he renders you speechless.

Scratch that. He renders you entranced.

There’s something so sinful about the way he eats you out. You really shouldn’t be surprised —you know he’s a good fuck— and yet here you are. Clutching the back of his head, fingers tangled in his sun-kissed hair, hips chasing —dancing with his tongue as he drinks you in, from your opening to your clit.

The words are lost. There’s just hot breath and the strongest desire to taste him on your lips. And as his hand plays with your tits, you grab him by the wrist, taking it up to your mouth. Kissing his knuckles.

Sucking his finger.

“Holy fuck…” he moans into your pussy, and you swear you nearly come on the spot.

But he takes his hand away, gently, heavily, and brings it down to where he’s ruining you. All wet and ready, his fingers slip inside you, coaxing pleasure with every curling motion. From there, it’s a losing game for you. Then again, if making you come is victory, being struck with aftershocks of overstimulation is not a bad consolation prize. Not at all.

“Fuck. Please…”

“Please what? Please stop?” He kisses your cheek, slowing down the torture of his hand but not quite stopping. You can’t see his face, but you can hear the coy smirk in his voice. “Or keep going?”

Fuck him, you think to yourself. But instead, what comes out of your mouth is a plea. “Fuck me, Roo…”

Your eyes meet in a fleeting moment of wanting, and for a moment, the two of you move in a frenzy of lascivious kisses and hands groping and discarding whatever articles of clothing he has left. You unbutton his jeans, taking in his strained groan when you palm his hard-on through the offending material, when he suddenly stops.

“Wait. Shit, I don’t have a —”

“I do,” you quickly cut off. Then, pulling him up to his feet, you lead him down the hallway, “Bedroom.”

“Show me the way, honey.”

Maybe it’s the post-nut clarity, or maybe it’s what he called you, but something sobers you up. Not completely, but just enough that the nagging voice in the back of your head starts sounding off.

He seizes you from behind when you get to the foot of the bed, turning you around and kissing you. “Hi,” Roo smiles into your lips. It would’ve given you sweet butterflies, if your stomach wasn’t already twisting all of a sudden.

“Where is it?” he asks, and it takes you a second to remember what he was referring to.

“Um. Top drawer on the left.”

You’re sure he’s taking off his pants, finding the condom and putting it on in record time. But even then, it’s plenty of time for your mind to spiral. What does this mean? Are we gonna go through that awkward phase again? What are we?

He pulls you into his lap, and you hardly notice him settling on the side of the bed. His cock is lined up at your entrance and his lust-blown eyes gazing up at you. “Ready?”

Ready for what?

You barely sink down on his cock, when the words somehow just come out. The words that you didn’t even know were in the back of your mind. “We should wait.”

“What?” His voice is airy, like he’s not entirely here with you, but it’s immediate —as is the way he stops moving into you.

“We should wait before we decide if we really wanna do this.”

“As in fucking?” he looks at you, hazy. Confused.

“As in… whatever arrangement we’re getting ourselves into here!”

“Oh.” He pauses, thoughtful. And then, “Okay.”

“Okay?” you echo. It can’t be that easy, right?

“Yeah.”

“And you’re not just saying that because you wanna fuck?”

“No. I mean, I do, but…” he swallows heavily, “I like you. A lot. But… Jesus, can we not do it while I’m halfway inside you? It’s really hard to focus.”

A chuckle escapes you as he drops his forehead onto the crook of your neck. Your hand caresses the back of his neck gently. “Okay, okay, okay.”

But he lifts his head again —concern written all over his face as he asks you tentatively, “Unless you don’t wanna do this?”

“No, I do. I do.” And you mean it. His length stretches your inner walls and flexes inside you so invitingly. But the more you try to brush it off, the more persistent it stays in the forefront of your thought.

He lifts you just enough to pull himself out, and then he sits you back down again on his lap. Hands secure around your waist. “Talk to me, Houdini.”

There’s no perfect time to have this conversation. But that night, sitting naked in your bed, joined together but not quite, is probably as good as it gets. You take a heavy breath to brace yourself before you ask the ultimate question.

“What do you want out of this?”

He smiles simply, and it terrifies you that there’s hardly any hesitation in his answer. “I just want you. In every way I can get. I don’t think you ever knew that.”

And the fucked up thing is, you do. You would never admit it —not even to yourself— but part of you always knew. It’s just easier not to acknowledge it, considering everything at stake.

“This is too important to me. Relationships are complicated and messy and… what if we fuck up along the way? We’re just gonna get stuck in the cockpit in shitty silence for the rest of the shoot? We have six months left, Roo. I can’t—we can’t. We shouldn't.”

“Okay.” If he’s disappointed, he doesn’t show it. He simply remains thoughtful, careful. “But don’t you think sex will make things complicated and messy, too?”

“Possibly. But at this point, I don’t think I can stay away from you anymore,” you quietly admit. Then, as soon as it comes out of your mouth, it hits you. “Bleargh, that’s so corny.”

“It rolls off the tongue really nicely, though, right?”

“Yeah, it really does.”

You share a quiet chuckle together, a small moment of reprieve amidst the tension. It’s nice to know that, even stripped down in all senses of the word, things haven’t changed that much. You’re still… you.

“So how do you wanna do this?”

You straighten up, switching back to serious mode. “If we fuck, we fuck. But that’s it. This is not a relationship. We’ll decide if we still want that by the time we’re done filming, or if we wanna just…” you make a motion of parting ways. “But we wait until the end of the shoot, you hear me?”

“Okay.”

It’s too easy, and as honest as he seems, you almost don’t want to trust it. “Promise me. Not a moment sooner.” You cup his face, so he’ll look you in the eye and give it to you straight. “Roo-Roo.”

But then his eyes pierce through you, so sweet and tender, and you hope to God he’ll keep his words because you sure will. “You need to stop calling me that.” he gently, harmlessly chides you. “But yes,” he sighs, tucking your hair behind your ear and leaning into your lips,

“I promise.”

***

vi. Zoo Culture — Sundress

It’s been three years in the making, with COVID delaying the release multiple times, but you’re finally sitting alongside your co-stars in front of the live audience of Graham Norton, promoting the movie before the London premiere tonight.

“So Y/N, we’ve talked about pushing the boundaries of cinema and the insane stunts you did in this movie —but that’s not all. Your husband is actually the real pilot flying your plane in those aerial sequences.”

“Well, he wasn’t my husband yet at the time. But yeah, that’s how we met.” Your eyes flicker towards the audience, knowing the person in question is sitting in the back row.

Graham gapes at you. “That’s amazing.”

“Love was literally in the air,” your co-star Jordan Fisher comments, earning a laugh from the studio audience.

“So, how did it happen? Did you guys just cozy it up in the jet or what?”

“There’s no room to cozy up in the jet.” You chuckle. “I mean, we spent about a year, training and rehearsing the sequences on the ground and filming the actual thing, so we’d gotten to know each other a bit.” It’s a gross understatement, but a necessary paraphrase. “But on my last day, we were in the air and —I just finished my very last take— and right after I turned off my camera and mic, he said through the comms,” you put your hand over your mouth, mimicking the static over your best Rooster impression. “‘Hey Houdini. How ‘bout I take you out for dinner when we get back on the ground?’”

“And what did you say?”

“‘You smooth motherfucker!’”

The whole studio erupts into laughter and applause. That line is true, and Roo still rolls his eyes playfully whenever you reach this part of the story.

“That is a Hollywood romance plot right there,” Graham gushes excitedly.

“Listen, he’s seen me puke my guts out, pull myself together, and then go back to pretending to do his job for a living. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is,” you say matter-of-factly, “He was like, ‘Yep, she’s the one.’”

Graham turns to your co-stars Jordan and John Cho. “And did you guys know about this? Did you see sparks flying?”

“Oh, yeah. For sure,” Jordan replies without missing a beat. “I don’t know if they knew what was going on at that point, but we knew it was gonna be a thing,” he says, as John nods vigorously in agreement.

“That’s not entirely true,” Roo casually comments as he turns off the TV, striding into the ensuite hotel bathroom.

“What?” You look up and meet his gaze through the mirror, as you take off all your jewelries —the earrings, the bracelets, everything save for the

He strides closer to you, bow tie undone, sans blazer, helping you take off the many necklaces you’re wearing. God, he looks good. “What you said earlier.”

“What did I say earlier?”

“You never threw up in the cockpit, ever. And we weren’t technically just friends when I asked you out that day,” he points out. “I distinctly remember you calling it a ‘situationship’ back then.”

It makes you smile and turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck while he holds you by the waist. “Let the public have those funny anecdotes.” Toying with the soft strands on the back of his head, “The real version, our version, is… classified.”

He pulls a face. “Bleargh. Who taught you to be so corny?”

You scoff, swatting his chest for ruining the moment. “You did, asshole!”

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Rooster giggles, kissing your face all over. “No take-backs now. You’ve told the world that I’m your guy. You’re stuck with me forever.”

He may put on a smug grin as much as you roll your eyes in feigned annoyance, but you both know two things: that you are stuck with each other forever, and that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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