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zepskies · 9 months ago

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The Miracle Man

Pairing: Boaz Priestly x F. Reader

Summary: The first time you met Priestly was both the worst and best night of your life. He gave you a Miracle.

AN: Here’s the prequel to Code Red! (But this can also be read as stand alone.) I hope you enjoy. And just a note, remember this was circa 2007, still the era of flip phones and iPods, despite the advent of the iPhone.

Word Count: 3,500

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for mature talk. A kind of meet cute, insecurities, angst, breakups, hurt/comfort, sandwiches, fluff and feels.

He was a lone ranger in the Wild West. His weapon of choice?

A dirty mop.

Priestly bopped his head to the music playing from his earbuds. His iPod was tucked in his right jean pocket while he speared the mop across the floor of the sandwich shop. It was three minutes to closing time on a Saturday night, and it was his turn to clean up and lock up.

He was looking forward to getting home, taking a shower, and diving face-first into his bed. But first, he just needed to kill three minutes.

Come on, come on, come oooon, he sang in his mind as the hands on his watch ticked on. While glancing down at said watch, he remembered it had been a gift from Tish for his birthday…

Three months ago. When they were still together.

Priestly heaved a sigh. What were you supposed to do with gifts from your ex that you actually liked? The gifts that made it into your everyday life, not just because they were from the person you thought you loved, but because it was actually hella practical and a nice accessory to keep on your person?

It’s just a damn watch. Don’t make it a big deal, he reminded himself. What was he supposed to do, have a ritual burning of everything Tish had ever touched?

That would take all damn night. And he definitely drew a line at his dick.

“Hello?”

The front door of the shop opened, the little bell Trucker installed chiming with too much cheer and startling Priestly out of his thoughts.

“We’re closed,” he said. But that was before he looked up, and had to pause in his mopping.

You were standing there, holding yourself in the open doorway with the cold breeze hitting your back. You were wearing a red cocktail dress and the highest black heels he’d ever seen, with your styled hair falling around your shoulders.

You were entirely too beautiful to be in this old sandwich shop, he thought. It had Priestly swallowing, frozen in time.

“Really? The sign says 10,” you pointed out. There was a level of desperation in your eyes. “Please, you’re the only place with the lights still on and I’ve been all up and down the block.”

Blinking out of his idiotic state, Priestly looked down at his watch again. It was exactly 9:59 p.m.

Well, damn. Got me on a technicality.

He held in a sigh.

“Okay, come on in,” he waved you over. Setting down his mop, he rounded the counter and went to man the register. He gave you a minute to peruse the menu. He noted that aside from your stunning attire, you had a cell phone in your hand that clearly couldn’t fit in that little purse hanging off your shoulder, bumping along your hip.

He couldn’t help but visually trace the curves of your hips and waist, back up to the sweetheart neckline of the dress, the deeper shade of your lipstick and up to your face.

But then he felt bad for staring, so he looked up heavenward before you caught him.

Meanwhile, your eyes drifted from the menu and dipped to his chest for a moment.

“Too bad I’m not gay,” you said.

What? Priestly frowned in confusion. But following your gaze, he realized you were staring at his yellow shirt, which read in big, 70s-style letters: Be Gay & Proud, Get a Free Drink.

His lips twitched at a grin, and he looked up at you. “D’you know what you want?”

You had a smile starting to play on your lips as well. You went back to considering your choices.

“Not sure, but I’m starving. What do you recommend?” you asked.

Priestly’s lips puckered as he considered the menu he knew by heart.

“Well, if you wanna go classic, I’d do a Spicy Italian on white bread. If you wanna be adventurous, we just added the Jalapeño Buffalo Chicken Club," he said. "But, if you wanna get crazy awesome, I can put on some Zeppelin and make you something special of my own design.”

He colored that last option with a gesture of his hand, a flourish, if you will. You tilted your head at him and smiled.

“Okay. Surprise me, Sandwich Man.”

Priestly snorted while he washed his hands again. “Sounds like the lamest superhero ever.”

“With his death-defying salami summoning powers,” you quipped, with a giggle that had him smiling as well.

“Nice alliteration,” he said. And he made a show of tying his apron back on. “Don’t worry, ma’am. Your late-night hoagie is safe with me.”

You tried to stifle another laugh while he worked his magic. From bread to meats and cheeses and toppings, Priestly was a master of his craft. He had that 12” hero wrapped and sliding across the counter towards you in record time.

“I call this the ‘Miracle,’” he winked. “You’ll see why. But that’ll be $10 even.”

You nodded and turned to the purse on your hip. You opened up the little velvety thing, but your face fell when all you found was your keys, not your credit card.

“No.” Your heart dropped into your stomach. You opened your purse wider and flipped through the satin insides, but you saw that it was empty. “You’ve gotta be shitting me. I know I had my wallet in here…”

And then it dawned on you.

“That fucking asshole,” you growled.

Priestly’s eyes widened. “Uh…”

Your head snapped up to his. “I had a different purse picked out for tonight. You know, one that actually had my wallet in it? But my know-it-all boyfriend had the nerve to say, ‘That one’s too shiny, looks kinda cheap. This is a restaurant at the Ritz-Carlton, not a hooker hangout.’ Can you believe that?”

Priestly blinked in confusion, but he realized that in your purse shuffling, you had no way to pay for this amazing sandwich he’d just concocted.

And now, you actually had the beginnings of frustrated tears in your eyes as you took in a shuddering breath.

“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I can’t—I can’t pay for this. I don’t have my wallet… Hold on, let me see if he’ll…”

You held up a finger and started dialing manically on your phone. You held it up to your ear and waited. Your tears sprang forth anew when the line just kept ringing until it sent you to voicemail.

“Figures,” you scoffed. “The one time I actually need this douchebag to answer, he ignores me!”

You slammed the phone down on the counter and covered your face with your hand as you sniffled. Priestly softened with sympathy. You seemed to be having a harder night than he thought.

He slid the sandwich your way, making you raise your head.

“It’s okay. This one’s on the house,” he said. “Looks like you could use a pick-me-up.”

Your watery eyes met his. “Really? You don’t have to…”

“No worries,” he replied, giving you a bit of charm in his grin. “I’ll even throw in a soda. Lady’s choice.”

Your lower lip trembled, but you were able to smile. With a quiet thank you, you wiped under your eyes carefully so your mascara wouldn’t run. Then you grabbed a Coke from the machine along with your sandwich from the counter.

“Do you mind if I eat here?” you asked, gesturing at one of the tables. “I promise I won’t leave a mess. I know you’re trying to close up.”

Priestly waved a dismissive hand. “Sure. Don’t worry about it.”

He went around the counter to take up his mop and continue where he left off in the cleaning process. But he couldn’t help but eye you every now and then. Curiosity was starting to eat him alive.

Had your boyfriend just dumped you here? Had you gone off alone? Somehow, he couldn’t see the first option happening. If you were his girlfriend, he would do his best not to let you walk away angry at him, let alone this late at night, without any money or even your ID.

“Are you coming from a party or something?” he found himself asking. You looked up from your second bite of the sandwich. You’d looked to have been truly enjoying it, uttering a moan that’d caught his attention.

“No,” you chuckled humorlessly around a mouthful of bread. “I was supposed to meet his parents. His rich, very bougie, hyper-critical parents. Somehow it didn’t occur to me that he was just like them.”

Priestly paused and leaned on his mop. He was hesitant, not wanting to disturb you while you were eating, but he was too damn hooked.

“So…what happened?” he asked. You scoffed and took another massive bite of your sandwich.

“Okay, you want to hear this? Fine,” you began. “So, I’m a stress eater by nature. Let’s just start with that.”

“Who isn’t?” Priestly supplied. Pursing your lips, you raised a black olive at him in a thank you gesture.

“But when I tell you I spent three months depriving myself to fit into this dress. No carbs, cheese, chocolate, or happiness.”

He grimaced. “That’s no way to live.”

“Exactly!” you concurred. “But I did all that so my boyfriend would have nothing to say when I finally met his parents for this dinner—to celebrate him graduating from med school.”

Priestly found himself dimming inside. Not only were you spoken for, but you were with a future doctor, no less. The only title Priestly had to his name was Sandwich Man.

“It started with the purse thing when he picked me up. Then when we get there, he keeps telling me how stuffy his dad is and how judge-y and critical his mom can be and how I’m a reflection on him,” you mocked in an impression of his voice.

“Then I find myself second-guessing every word that might come out of my mouth, and I’m too nervous to even eat the $60 plate of Chilean sea bass in front of me, and not to mention, there’s a glass of wine in my hand. I don’t even like wine!”

By now, it was all Priestly could do to keep up with your verbal spitfire. You were also gesticulating wildly with your sandwich the more worked up you got.

“I mean, I’m saying things I don’t say, and suddenly I realize that I’ve wrapped myself up in so many knots for this man, I don’t even recognize myself,” you confessed. Your eyes lit up with a gleam of clarity. Your hands lowered down to the table, and after a beat, you continued eating.

“But then my boyfriend of over a year turns to me and says, ‘Why are you being so weird and frigid?’” you said. You met Priestly’s eyes. “I just, I got so mad. I wanted to choke him out with my napkin, you know?”

He bit his lip to stifle a laugh.

“So instead of violence, I grabbed the glass of pinot noir, or chardon-perignon-whatever-the-fuck, and I poured it in his lap,” you concluded. “Then I walked out. And I ignored his calls. And I kept walking. Then a nice guy made me a sandwich.”

Priestly had to smile at that. He knew there was a Ritz-Carlton in the area, but that had to be almost a mile down the street. You’d walked a long way in those crazy-ass heels.

He propped his mop against a nearby table and sat down across from you. He shook his head in wonderment. And inside, your words kind of rattled him.

I’ve wrapped myself up in so many knots, I don’t even recognize myself.

“You know, sometimes I really, really wish I was gay,” you said, gesturing at his shirt.

“O-Oh…really?” he asked, raising his brows.

“Yeah, I do,” you answered. “I’m a quick study. I could learn to eat pussy.”

If he had been drinking something, he would’ve spat it out. He mentally fumbled for a moment before he could articulate a response.

“Well, I don’t doubt you, but it can be an acquired taste. Though I happen to like it,” he replied, grinning mostly to himself. He didn’t even think about how it might come out though.

As soon as he realized what he was saying to a perfect stranger, his eyes widened and met yours.

"Uh, sorry," he said.

But you just chortled in amusement. Your blush intensified though, along with your smile as you took a sip of your soda.

“You’re uh…you’re pretty awesome,” he said. And he meant that.

You blinked in surprise. Your lips twitched upwards, a blush rosy in your cheeks.

“Yeah?” you asked. His smile deepened.

“Yeah,” he replied. “And for the record, I know I just met you, but…I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Your face softened with a certain shyness, but you smiled at him through your lashes.

“Well, I appreciate that…” you trailed, realizing you didn’t yet know his name.

“Priestly,” he offered, along with his hand across the table. You slipped your smaller hand in his and gave him your name.

Though you quirked a brow at him. “Priestly? That’s your first name?”

Now it was his turn to get a little embarrassed.

“Uh, no,” he said, his gaze falling from yours. He scratched the back of his head, under the blue mohawk.

“Oh. What is it, then?” you asked.

“You don’t want to know,” he chuckled wryly.

“I think I do, or I wouldn’t be asking,” you countered. Your smile was playful though. Disarming, even.

“It’s um, it’s Boaz,” he admitted. You tilted your head, as if swirling the name around in your head. But you didn’t say it was weird, or stupid, or too biblical. You just smiled.

“Boaz Priestly. Interesting,” you nodded. Then you wrapped up your garbage, having eaten all of your sandwich. You made sure to collect every crumb, even though he’d told you not to worry about the mess. You got up to take it to the trashcan near the door.

“How’re you getting home?” he asked.

You bit your lip. The anxiety in your eyes told him you’d been pondering that same question. You let out a deep breath.

“I guess I’ll have to walk back to the hotel, try to get a ride from my b…my ex-boyfriend. Gotta get used to saying that,” you said. “I promise I’ll pay you back for the sandwich.”

“Didn’t I tell you it was on me? Don’t worry about that,” said Priestly. “But I’ll tell you what, let me give you a ride.”

You shook your head. “Oh, thank you, but we just met, and I—”

Just then, Priestly realized how his offer sounded. He didn’t want to creep you out.

“Ah, or I can get you a cab,” he said. “I doubt you want to see that guy again tonight, do you?”

You bit your lip, smudging some of the scarlet red lipstick there. It distracted him for a moment, but he returned his gaze to your eyes.

You sighed. As much as you didn’t want to impose again, you let Priestly call you a cab. He paid for it in advance after you gave the cabbie your address. Before you got in the car, you turned to Priestly and touched his arm.

“Thank you,” you said. “I promise, I’ll come tomorrow and pay you back.”

He smiled. “You can try.”

He earned your sweet smile back, and he watched you get into the cab. He tried not to raise his hopes up, but he really did hope he’d see you tomorrow.

And yet, he should’ve known it was too good to be true.

“Maybe she got caught up at work or something,” Jen tried to console him the next day at closing, after you didn’t show up.

“It’s Sunday,” he pointed out grumpily. He continued to wipe down Table 4 of some nasty residue of mayo and pickled radish.

“You don’t know what kind of job she has,” Piper interjected. She was making a tuna salad sub on wheat for the last customer, which she then passed on to Tish at the register. “Maybe she’s in retail, or she’s in the restaurant business too—or hey, a lifeguard! This is a beach town after all.”

“Or maybe, she just played you into getting free food and a ride home,” Tish suggested, with her usual brand of cutting sarcasm. It just tended to cut a bit deeper these days, whenever it was leveled at Priestly.

The post-breakup thing had been tense and awkward for everyone, and it still hadn’t normalized just yet in their little sandwich-making ecosystem. Jen shot her friend a look though, one that told her she was being bitchy.

The problem was, she’d only voiced what Priestly was thinking anyway, deep down.

“Amazing, serendipitous things don’t happen to me, Piper,” he said. “Not anymore.”

He continued cleaning.

Three weeks later, it happened on a Friday afternoon.

It was one of their busiest times of the week. Tish was at the register as usual, Jen was sorting through the inventory and bussing tables, and Priestly was making hero after hero like a fiend, alongside Piper. He was definitely living up to his name of Sandwich Man.

He was still able to recognize your voice near the register.

“One 12” Miracle, please,” you requested.

“Um…we don’t have that on the menu,” Tish replied. But Priestly looked over with a grin. He met your gaze, and found you smiling back at him.

Tish followed the exchange with suspicion.

“One Miracle, coming up!” Priestly called out.

He had the order ready within minutes, but he was painstaking about it, not an olive out of place. He wrapped it up nicely and walked it over to the register himself, placing it in front of you on the counter.

“Well, hi there,” he greeted.

A familiar blush spread across your face, just as endearing as he remembered. The only thing different about you so far was your clothes. No longer dressed to the nines, you were more casual in your jeans, ankle boots, and V-necked top.

In every other way, you were the same. It might’ve been making his heart trip up.

“Hi,” you said. “Got a minute, Miracle Man?”

Priestly ducked his head, hiding a more bashful smile. Before he could respond, Tish interrupted, “That’ll be $10.”

You nodded and handed her a $50 bill. She looked at you in confusion.

“The rest is a tip, for the hero makers,” you explained, glancing at both Priestly and Piper. He gave you an incredulous smile.

You little minx, he thought. He couldn’t say no if you were tipping Piper too.

But he did ask Jen to help fill in for him while he made his way around the counter to go to you. Tish just watched the scene unfold with a silent frown, like she was trying to make sense of what was happening. She always thought she’d be the first one to move on.

“Let’s talk outside. Little more privacy from the peanut gallery,” Priestly said to you, tossing a knowing glance over his shoulder. You spotted all the employees now watching you and Priestly closely.

You became a touch more shy as he led you out of the shop with a hand resting on the small of your back. You slipped your sandwich into a larger purse than last time. Then you looked up at him with apologetic eyes.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to come back here,” you said. “It got a bit…ugly, after that night.”

Priestly’s brows furrowed in concern. “Ugly?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you assured him. “Lots of shouting and empty threats, then half-assed apologies. But I’m done with all that.”

Priestly considered that with a nod. “Well, good. I’m glad to hear you’re doing better.”

You stared up at his face, and you thought he really seemed to mean that. You knew you shouldn’t be feeling that familiar flutter in your stomach, not three weeks after breaking up from a year-long relationship. Even so, the night you walked out of this shop, you felt free. Like you could breathe again.

You felt like you.

So now, you leaned up and kissed Priestly on the cheek.

His eyes widened a fraction as he stared down at you. You smiled and grasped his hand.

“Would you maybe want to…ask me out sometime?” you asked. A nervous giggle escaped you, making him smile.

“Y-Yeah, I would. If you’re sure you want me to,” he replied. In the past, maybe he would’ve let his excitement get the best of him. He’d be trying to jump at this chance. Experience had taught him not to hope too hard though. Sometimes, getting what you wished for backfired in your face.

You squeezed his hand, earning his attention.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked. Your smile became teasing before you used his words against him. “From what I’ve seen so far, you’re pretty awesome. But mostly pretty.”

He had to laugh at that. Pretty was not something he’d ever been called in life. Weird, freak, try-hard goth—that was all familiar territory. His tattoos and piercings tended to bring that out in people.

But he gathered some courage and squeezed your hand back.

“Well, you’re beautiful,” he said, thumbing at your chin. His eyes met yours and got lost there for a moment. “Uh, really beautiful.”

You blushed further and bit your lower lip out of habit. It drew his gaze, and he gained a little more courage. He tilted your chin upwards, so he could find those lips easier in a kiss. Your fingers curled in the front of his shirt and brought him closer. His hand found your cheek as he angled deeper into the kiss.

Despite the chill on the air, the California sun was warm and beating down on you both.

It was the perfect day for a Miracle.

AN: How I love Priestly lol. If you liked this, let me know! 💜

Priestly Masterlist

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BP Tag List:

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@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @siampie @sanscas @kaleldobrev

@waters-2567 @pieandmonsters @akshi8278 @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @idiotdyslexic @heartlessdelusions @chriszgirl92

#The Miracle Man #Code Red Prequel #10 Inch Hero #Boaz Priestly #Boaz Priestly x reader #Boaz Priestly x female reader #Boaz Priestly x you #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles #Priestly x reader #Priestly x you #Priestly #Priestly x female reader #zepskies writes

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alphajocklover · 2 months ago

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What an incredible store you have here! It feels so much bigger from the inside. I never would have guessed you had this much jewelry and trinkets inside! I’m surprised you don’t have some sort of extra security with this much in here, haha. I mean, I get that a 40-something engineer isn’t much of a threat, but…

Hey, why are you looking at me like that? And what do you have in your hand? It looks like… feels like… OooooOOOHHH…!

So in my recent post, the one where I updated you all on my Uncle John, I may have mentioned that I have some… friends who work for EB Jewelry and have been leaking me information. This was… definitely a mistake. A huge mistake. I was so wrapped up in everything that's been happening with my Uncle I forgot one of the basic rules of journalism: protect your sources. It was an amateur move that might have put my friend at risk, and I’ve been feeling guilty about it ever since. They said they don’t mind, but… I’m still worried for them. I even tried to convince them to leave before they get caught, but… they’re insisting on continuing. I should have expected it, since they’ve always been stubborn like that, but if anything happens to them because of me, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.

That got kind of dark, so let's get on to the good news. Instead of doing the rational thing and laying low like I suggested, my friend has actually become more reckless. I was incredibly against this, for obvious reasons, but as much as I hate to admit it, it’s actually really paid off. They’ve been diving deeper into the companies files, and have gotten me more information in the last few days than they have in the last three weeks! It’s taking a while to get through everything they sent me, but from what I’ve already seen it’s very revealing. So far one of the most interesting things they sent me was a full video of a recent transformation. Usually the transformations caused by EB Jewelry’s products are slower, but this one was… odd. It started off pretty normal, at least as normal as anything can be in the world of transformations. A forty-something engineer was drawn into one of the larger EB Jewelry locations. Larger on the inside apparently, according to the small amount of audio that was clear in the video. I guess magic is a good way to increase your square footage without having to expand to another location. Anyways, from what I can tell this guy was specifically being targeted by EB Jewelry, since they usually only change people immediately if they need them out of the way. I don’t know why a huge company like EB Jewelry would target a (now former) 40 year old engineer and father of two, but my best guess is that he saw something he shouldn’t have. Whatever the reason, they lured him into the store using the same magic they always do… and let their product do what they always do.

When I talk about EB Jewelry I talk about their fancier products, their watches and their cufflinks, but they have a much bigger variety than that. In this case, it looks like our engineer found some ear gauges. Powerful ones at that. He didn’t need to even put them in to be transformed. The second he touched them, the years faded away, his gut disappeared, and lean muscle packed itself onto his body. In seconds the overweight middle aged man was turned into a hot fuckboy stud, one with no memory of his old life and only one thing on his mind: finding someone to fuck. Don’t worry though, he’ll have a job as a model for EB Jewelry waiting for him when his latest one night stand is over. EB Jewelry isn’t (entirely) cruel though, they turned his two sons into two bros that he can hang out with!

It’s sorry to say it's probably too late for the engineer, and his former sons. EB Jewelry has powerful magic, and even if someone could turn him back, they’d probably find another way to deal with him. I just hope my friend is careful. EB Jewelry has magic and capitalism, which is a really bad combination.

**hey there! Used a pic of one of my inspirations @bgdk98 . Absolutely awesome and sexy guy. Hope you liked this story!**

#muscle growth tf #muscle tf #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #reality change #EB Jewelry #fuckboy tf

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callsign-dexter · 4 months ago

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From Fear to Forever

Request: Ok sweetheart 😘 what would you think of a Rooster imagine where you cover up to fly with Bob instead of Natasha that day the plane crashes and Rooster sits on the radio, being on the edge as he doesn't know if you're okay or not and he fears he'll lose you just like his dad. As soon as Mav tells him that you're mostly okay and staying at the hospital, he's crying with relief and hugs Mav and he forgives him as he realizes he doesn't want to lose more people. Then you both come to the hospital and Rooster is all spoiling you and making sure you're okay and as he thinks you're asleep, he tells how that he loves you, but you can hear him, so you both finally confess your feelings and the rest of the team watches as smiles from outside 🤭

Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x Seresin!Twin Sister!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, cussing, inaccurate medical talk, inaccurate Navy talk

Masterlist

A/N: thank you @imagine-all-the-fandoms for requesting this and I'm so so sorry it took forever. I just needed a break to collect myself and convince myself that I shouldn't just give up and delete this account.

You, Y/N ‘Storm’ Seresin, never thought you would be back here. Where you may ask? Well, none other than Top Gun. Your home away from home. You first went through it with your twin brother Jake Seresin, yes that is your brother, and your backseater Mark ‘Shadow’ Newman. He was your best friend, literally you both went through the academy together and pilot school, where you met Bradley Bradshaw and fell in love but he would never love you or so you thought, then Top Gun. Mark was also married to a beautiful wife, who is your friend, and they have 2 adorable boys together that look just like their father.

Currently the both of you were hanging out at The Hard Deck with your brother and Javy waiting for the others. “So, Storm, how is it to be siblings with Hangman?” Javy asked, sliding up to you.

“Not as bad as you think. He has his moments but he can be a Golden Retriever.” You said smirking as Jake shot you a look.

“Hey don't be going around telling all my secrets. I have a reputation to uphold.” He said and laughed.

“You sure do ‘Mister I Have a Different Girl Every Night’.” You said and smirked but then eyes widening when you saw him coming over to you. You were quick to dive behind Mark.

“Oh, you're so getting it, Sis. Just you wait. You may be safe now but you better watch it.” He said and you knew it was a wholehearted threat and it made you burst out laughing which caused them to do so too.

“And that there is sibling love.” Mark said, chuckling and taking a drink of his drink while you stepped out from behind him. Jake chuckled and brought you into his arms and hugged you and you hugged back.

“Such a good little sister.” He said and you smacked him and pushed out of his arms.

“Hey we are twins, same age dumbass.” You pointed out he only did it because he knew it got on your nerves. The banter went on for another few minutes until Javy had pulled Jake over to play darts and you went with Mark to sit and watch. “When are the others getting here?” You asked.

“Should be any minute now.” Mark said “Why are you hoping to see Rooster?” He smirked and nudged you and you pushed him but it didn't budge him.

“No…” You said and he looked at you and you rolled your eyes “Fine yes.” You said.

“I don't see why you don't just admit your feelings for him.” Mark said casually while taking a drink of his beer.

“He doesn't see me like that.” You said trying not to sound heartbroken.

“How would you know if you don't tell?” He asked and you shook your head.

“I don't want to deal with the heartbreak.” You said and he nodded.

“I get it, I do.” He said and he truly did get it. It took him almost a year to ask Melissa, his now wife, to go on a date with him and then confess his feelings. Melissa had been your friend since high school and she just happened to be going to a college near the Naval Academy and the two of you reconnected.

“Storm!” A familiar voice called out and you turned towards the direction and saw none other than Natasha 'Phoenix’ Trace.

“Phoenix!” You shouted back and went to her and hugged her tightly and she did the same.

“Finally, another female.” She said and you laughed as Callie ‘Halo’ Bassett came up as well.

“We thought we would have to go through this with all of the testosterone alone.” Callie said

“Even if I wasn't here, you two would have each other.” You said and they shook their heads.

“Wouldn't be the same.” Natasha said and you chuckled.

“I’m going to the bathroom. I'll be right back.” You told her and she nodded and you disappeared into the bathroom missing the little back and forth between your brother and Natasha. You hadn't seen Bradley yet and that upset you slightly. After pilot school you both stayed in contact with one another. “Stop getting your hopes up. He may not be coming.” You said to yourself as you looked in the mirror washing your hands after using the bathroom. You sighed and walked towards the door and out of it and stopped in your tracks as you saw a Hawaiian shirt walk through the front door there, he was Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw. You hear Natasha call out to him and watch him walk over to the pool table and watch how she whacked him in the stomach. He grunted and patted her on the arm. You watched as he bickered with your brother. You watched the interaction they had with Bob Floyd, another friend of yours plus you and Mark were stationed with him. You don't know how long you were staring until Mark saw you and frowned and he walked over to you.

“You alright?” He asked and you quickly glanced at him and back to Bradley as he walked over to the jukebox.

“Yea I think so.” You said

“Are you sure?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yea I'm good.” You said as the music stopped playing and he sat down on the piano.

“Go talk to him.” He said and you looked at him and he nodded his head. You sighed and started to walk over there just as the familiar tune started. Just as you reached him a tag chaser popped up beside him and started to be all lovey dovey to him and that made tears pop into your eyes and you didn't know why it wasn't like you were with him. What hurt the worst was he smiled up at her. You abandoned your mission and walked out. Jake was quick to notice and grabbed his beer and followed you out. You missed how Bradley looked at you longingly and with a twinge of sadness in his eye. You walked out and down the steps heading to your car, you couldn't be here.

“Y/N.” Jake said your brother's voice rang out. You ignored him. “Lt. Y/N Seresin.” He said in a more authoritative tone using your rank because he knew you would stop and you did.

“Nice one.” You said as you turned to him “What do you want?” you asked voice laced with emotion.

“Are you ok?” He asked and you looked at him and shook your head.

“No.” You said and he sighed and brought you into a brotherly hug and you let tears fall.

“He's an idiot, you know that.” He said and you knew who he was referring to.

“I'm stupid to ever let those feelings come up.” You whispered

“No, you're not, Sis. It's normal. Ok?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yea, ok. I think I'm just going to go home.” You said

“Are you sure?” He asked and you nodded.

“I want to get a good night's sleep before tomorrow.” You said and the both of you knew that was a lie, you were going to go home shower and cry your eyes out. Jake has been there way too many times comforting you.

“I'll check in on you later. Ok?” He asked and you nodded.

“Ok. I love you.” You said into his chest.

“I love you too, Sis. Text me when you're home. I'll take care of your tab.” He said

“Thank you.” You said as you pulled away and tears ran down your face and he was quick to wipe them away with his thumbs as he held your head in his hands. Beer bottle sitting on what happened to be his truck's tailgate.

“That's what brothers are for. Now no more crying.” He said and you cracked a smile and he kissed your forehead. “Get home safely.” He said as he pulled away and you nodded. You got into your Jeep right beside his truck and he watched you back up. You waved at him and he waved back. You pulled out and as you were out of sight, he went back inside just in time for him to help throw someone out, who just happened to be their instructor, and then Bradley started to sing and play. Jake sat back and watched while drinking his beer. After the song was over Bradley plugged the jukebox in. As the music began to play, he walked over to Jake.

“Where's Y/N? I saw her walk out. She seemed upset.” Bradley asked and frowned.

“She has gone home. She was upset.” Jake said and Bradley frowned.

“Why? Everything ok?” He asked

“Maybe you should ask her tomorrow.” Jake said “A little advice. Nobody messes with my sister and gets away with it.” He added and walked off leaving Bradley confused.

“Bradley, where did you run off to?” A young blonde headed girl that was all over him. The one he tried to let down easily.

“That's none of your business.” He said “It would be best if you left.” He added and she made a face.

“Fine.” She said and turned around and stomped off. Bradley sighed he really wished you were here but it looked like he fucked it up once again. He couldn't wait for this night to end.

When you finally made home and parked and let the tears fall. Why were you like this? It's not like the two of you were dating. You sighed and got out making sure you locked the door after you shut it. You walked into your rented house and unlocked the door and walked in while turning on the lights and making sure to lock the door. You got your phone out and pulled up Jake's number.

I'm home.

Jakester- Good. Glad you're safe. Want me to come over later?

No, I'm good thanks though.

Jakester- Rooster asked about you.

He did?

Jakester- Yup I told him to fuck off.

Jake.

Jakester- Just kidding, told him you went home. I wanted to tell him to fuck off though.

Love you. Thanks for looking out for me.

Jakester- Anytime. Love you too.

You didn't text him back after that because you didn't want to clog up the night, not that he would've minded. He would do anything for you with just one phone call or text. The rest of the night was spent pitying yourself and getting ready for tomorrow. Your roommate, who just happened to be Bob, walked in maybe an hour after you. You turned to look at him. “Are you ok?” He asked and you shrugged.

“Is it stupid of me to get caught up on someone that probably doesn't even like me back?” You asked as he moved to sit down on the couch and you cuddled into him.

“No.” He shook his head “It's not. Maybe he does like you back. Ever think of that?” He asked.

“Yea right. He just sees me like one of the guys.” You said

“Oh, Stormy. If you only saw the way he looked when you took off and when Jake talked to him about you.” He said using a nickname only certain people were allowed to use.

“I just want to get to sleep and get tonight behind me.” You said and he nodded as you got up and he helped you some.

“Get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be tough.” He said and you nodded.

“Goodnight Bob.” You said and he smiled.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He said and then you disappeared and got ready for bed. Once ready you slipped under the covers and fell right to sleep.

The next morning you were up bright and early ready for the day and ready to face Bradley. You were just getting your coffee when Bob walked in. “Hey I'm gonna head in early.” You said and he smiled and nodded.

“I won't be too far behind you.” He said and you nodded and then you were grabbing your keys and heading out the door. When you got to your Jeep you sighed as you got in and sat there for a second.

“Let's get this over with.” You said as you turned the ignition and headed towards base. Once you got to base you parked beside your brother's truck and turned the Jeep off and got out. As you were getting out a familiar blue Bronco was pulling up and parking beside you. It parked and the owner got out. “Bradley.” You said and he smiled and turned towards you.

“Y/N.” He said “I missed seeing you at The Hard Deck. I was hoping I would.” He said and you hummed.

“I'm sure you missed me. It looked like you had nice company.” You said as the two of you began walking.

“I didn’t go home with her.” He said

“I find that hard to believe.” You said as you walked towards where the class would be held.

“Why don’t you believe me?” He asked

“Maybe because I find it hard to trust you after you ghosted me.” You said finally stopping and looking at him and his face was unreadable and you scuffed and walked to the front where your brother sat.

“Everything ok?” He asked

“Perfect.” You said and sat down and waited for class to start. When your instructor, Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell, was introduced and you looked back and saw your brother’s face you knew something happened. “What did you do?” You whispered angrily.

“I’ll tell you later.” He whispered and you glared at him but turned around and class began. Each pilot went up and showed what they got. It was time for your and Mark’s turn going up with Jake.

“Everything is looking good.” Mark said without you even asking him as you flew next to Jake.

“So, Jakester,” You began and he rolled his eyes annoyed at the nickname but he only let you use it. “What the hell did you do?” You asked.

“I threw him out of The Hard Deck.” He said

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re an idiot.” You said

“I didn’t know he would be our instructor.” He defended

“Shadow, did you know about this?” You asked

“No, I left before anything drastic took place.” He said

“Enough chit chat guys, fight is on.” Maverick said out of nowhere.

“Here we go.” You said

“We got this.” Mark said

“Do you see him anywhere?” Jake asked

“Negative.” You said

“I got him on the radar.” Mark said and then he was zooming past you guys “And there he goes.” He added.

“Alright let's go.” You said “Hangman, break right. I'll break left.” You said

“You got it, Storm.” Jake said and you both did as you said and that got a reaction out of Maverick.

“Interesting tactic. How are you going to cover each other?” He asked as he was getting tone behind Jake and he was doing well shaking him off.

“You know what brothers and sisters do for each other?” You asked Maverick.

“What would that be, Storm?” He asked and Mark smirked.

“Look after each other.” You said and suddenly you were behind him getting tone.

“Gottcha ya.” Jake and you said at the same time.

“Damn that was a good one. You two work well together.” He said and you smirked “Head back to ground.” He said and you both did and when you landed Jake was already there waiting for you.

“Good job, Sis. That move never fails.” Jake said as your canopy opened.

“You got that right. Nobody can beat the power of siblings.” Mark said and you smirked.

“Damn right.” You said and the three of you did post-checks and headed inside of the building. Everyone was excited that you actually took Maverick out and you smiled and chuckled. Your eyes looked around the room and found Bradley’s. He was staring at you and you decided that you needed to talk to him. You looked at Mark and he nodded and you went.

“Good job.” He said

“Thank you.” You said

“I’ve never seen Hangman actually not leave someone.” He said

“Well, siblings have to stick together.” You said

“Hey, look I’m sorry for ghosting you. I truly didn’t take that girl home, I sent her away after talking to your brother. I-” He started but you cut him off before he could say anything else.

“I believe you.” You said

“You do?” He asked and you nodded.

“I do.” You said and then his name was being called along with someone else’s and he hurried off not wanting to get into trouble and you understood. You were left standing there until Bob came over.

“Everything ok?” He asked and you looked up at him.

“Yeah, I think so.” You said and he smiled.

“Good job by the way.” He said

“Thank you.” You replied

“I’m gonna go and listen, you coming?” He asked and you shook your head.

“No, I need a minute alone.” You said and he nodded and left with a pat on your shoulder. Bradley apologized for ghosting you but it wasn’t enough you needed an explanation. You hoped you got one but for now you needed to focus on this mission.

You had been so focused on the mission that you didn't really speak to Bradley and each time you tried or he tried you or he were being called away. It seemed like you never were going to get a chance until one morning you got to base extra early and decided to hang around and go over some maneuvers. You were so into thought you didn't hear another person come in. “Think too hard and your head might explode.” The voice said and it made you jump. You turned to see who it was and it was Bradley.

“Shit, you fucking scared me.” You said putting a hand over your heart to try and settle it.

“Sorry.” He said and you waved him off.

“What are you doing here so early?” You asked

“Well, I know you like to get up early and go over everything you learned. So, I took a chance to come here to find you.” He said and you nodded. “I also couldn't sleep.” He said.

“There is the real reason.” You said and he shook his head.

“No, they're both the reason.” He said and then it went into silence.

“I'm sorry.” You both started.

“You go first.” You said

“I'm sorry for everything I put you through. All the stress, the ghosting, the making you think that I was with someone else, and everything in general. It was not my intent to do that to you and my dad and mom would kill me if they knew I hurt such a beautiful girl.” He said and you blushed and looked down.

“You think I'm beautiful? I wear what everyone else wears and my hair is always up.” You said

“Yea you're beautiful I would even say gorgeous. Yes, you wear what everyone else does and have your hair up but I've also seen you out of uniform and hair down. Remember?” He asked and you nodded.

“I do.” You said recalling the many nights that you and he had late night study sessions for pilot school. “My turn if you're done.” You said and he nodded as he sat down beside you and you turned to him. “I'm sorry for being so short and mad at you earlier. I just got jealous seeing you with someone and I know I shouldn't we're not together and will probably never be together, you'll only see me as a sister. I'm rambling. Anyways I'm sorry for everything too.” You said.

“It's-” He started but got cut off by people walking in and the both of you stood up. Bob came over with Maverick.

“Good you're here.” Maverick began “Phoenix is out sick and Shadow had a family emergency.” He said and your eyes widened “So I'm pairing you and Bob up for this run through.” He said “I hope that is ok.” He added and you both nodded.

“That's absolutely fine, Sir.” You and Bob said at the same time.

“Good. We'll start here in a few minutes.” He said and then walked off and you immediately pulled out your phone.

Mav told me you had a family emergency. Everyone ok?

Mark: Grayson got really sick with throwing up and a really high fever in the middle of the night and we had to bring him to the hospital. They have him on fluids and some Tylenol IV. He's sleeping right now.

Poor guy. Let me know if you all need anything, please. I hate that he's not feeling good. How's Max taking it?

Mark: I promise I will but you need to focus on the mission. Max is not well. He hates that his brother is sick.

I hate that. Tell them I love them and will be thinking about them.

Mark: I will now go and kick some ass.

You got it!

You chuckled and put your phone away. “Everything ok?” Bob asked and you nodded.

“Grayson is sick like in the hospital.” You said

“Damn. I hate that for them.” Bradley said and then the others started to file in. You quickly took your place next to your brother as Maverick began talking and telling them what was going on. Soon after everyone was crowding in the rec room to wait. Several groups went up before it was yours, Bob's, Javy's turn. As you were walking out the door Bradley stopped you “Hey good look out there.” He said and you nodded and smiled.

“Thank you. I'll see you on the ground.” You said and then you were heading off with Bob to your jet. If only you knew what this practice run would bring.

“Just like old times?” Bob asked as you both arrived at the jet.

“Just like old times.” You said back at your base you flew with Bob while Mark was out and you were the one that did the flying while he was training. You both got in the jet and began to head towards the runway. When you got there you stopped and watched as Javy took off and once, he was far enough away you spoke to the air traffic control tower. “Air Traffic Control, this is Storm ready to take off.” You said.

“Copy that Storm, the air is clear and the sky is yours. You can take off.” They said

“Thank you, Air Traffic Control.” You said and then started speeding down the runway. You finally were up in the air and caught up with Javy.

“Alright let's do this.” Javy said and so began the practice run.

“Talk to me, Bob.” You said

“We’re twelve seconds late on target. We gotta move, we gotta move.” Bob says

“Copy try to stay with me.” Javy says agitated radar beeps.

“Huh? Wait, who’s that?” Bob asks

“Blue team, you are spotted.” Maverick said

“Shit, it’s Maverick. What the hell is he doing here?” Javy said

“What the hell is he doing here?” You ask

“I’m a bandit on course to intercept. Blue team, what are you gonna do?” Maverick said

“20 miles left, ten o’clock. He’s coming fast. 700 knots closure.” Bob confirmed

“Your call what do you want to do?” Javy asks the pair of you.

“Continue. We’re close. Stay on target.” You said

��He’s swinging around to the north. Bob said

“Stand by for pop-up.” Javy said

“Be ready with that laser, Bob.” You said

“Copy, I’m on it.” He says as reaches for a button/knob, constantly working.

Meanwhile back in the rec room everyone listens on the edge of their seats. “Come on Storm. You got this.” Bradley says to mostly himself.

“She’s a hell of a pilot. She has this in the bag.” Jake said “You know she loves you right?” Jake asks and Bradley nodded.

“I love her too.” He said

“Don’t hurt her or I will shoot you down.” Jake warned

“I won’t. I promise.” He said and Jake nodded and then they heard Maverick’s voice on the radio.

“Blue team, bandit is still closing.” Maverick said

“Popping now.” Javy said as he does so and you follow. All three of you grunting trying to catch your breath.

“Talk to me, Bob. Where’s Maverick?” Javy asks

“He’s five miles out. He’s coming fast.” Bob replies

“Target in sight.” You said

“Where’s my laser, Bob?” Javy asks

“Dead eye! Dead eye! It’s no good. Sorry, I can’t get a lock.” Bob said

“We’re out of time. I’m dropping blind.” Javy said and dropped the bomb. “Damn it, missed!” He added as the both of you pulled up.

“That’s tone.” Maverick said as he toned you and Bob.

“Maverick has got a missile lock on us.” Bob said

“Shit! We’re dead.” You said

“Blue team. That is a fail.” Maverick said and you pull away. “Level out Coyote.” He said as you watched in horror as he didn't do so and that scared you, you knew anything could happen but you never thought it would. “Coyote, copy.” You heard Maverick say. “Coyote, come in. Coyote, level wings.” You hear Maverick shout frantically “Oh my gosh he is in g-loc.” He said and he kept saying his name but his jet kept falling.

“He’s going to burn in.” You say worriedly.

“I’m going after him.” Maverick said as you watched his jet jerk away and towards your friend. “Come on. Give me tone, give me tone, give me tone.” He said as he got a target lock on him “Snap out of it, coyote. Come on! Come on! Come on, Coyote, come on. Come on! Damn it! Coyote! Coyote!” Maverick shouts frantically. Finally, he seemed to snap out of it and popped up at the last second and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Coyote, you, okay? You, okay?” He asks

“I’m okay. I’m good.” He says breath heavy.

“Good. Good. That’s enough for today.” Maverick said as you pulled up next to him.

“That was close.” You say with a shake of your head.

“Too close.” Maverick said “Bird strike.” He said suddenly “Bird strike!” He exclaimed as the birds hit your jet and through your engine. Now you are terrified.

Those two words are what brings Bradley and Jake’s world to a stop. “No no no no.” Bradley said to himself. Tears burning behind his eyes he needed you to pull through this and be ok.

“Come on, Sis you got this.” Jake said and then your voice came through the radio and Jake being your twin brother knew the different tone in your voice that nobody else knew. He knew you were absolutely terrified. “Don’t panic.” He said.

Bradley was terrified. He couldn’t lose you. He’s lost his dad; he cannot lose you. He lost Maverick due to something so petty. “Come on, Y/N/N. You have to pull through this.” He said.

“Don’t panic. Don’t panic.” Jake repeated to himself hoping to send vibes to you. Bradley and Jake were the closest to the radio.

“Bird strike.” You said as lights and warnings go off a fire warning goes off signaling a fire in one of your engines.

“Storm, left engines on fire!” Bob said looking back and so do you.

“Climbing.” You said as you turn back and you pull the throttle up. “Throttling back. Shutting off fuel to the left engine. Extinguishing fire.” You say as you do so but alarms continue.

“Right engine is out!” Bob exclaims looking at the warnings.

“It’s still spinning. Trying to restart it.” You say as you power the engine on.

“Storm it is on fire, don’t start-�� Maverick begin but you cut him off. You were so scared shitless but you couldn’t let it show.

“Throttling up.” You say as you pull the throttle up.

“Oh my god.” You hear Maverick say as you start to nose dive.

“We’re on fire! We’re on fire!” Bob exclaims

“Damn it!” You exclaim

“Engine fire. Right.” The automated voice

“Extinguishing the right engine.” You said and do so as you spin out of control.

“Storm, Bob punch out! Punch out!” Maverick exclaims

“Warning lights everywhere! Hydraulic failure!” Bob says letting you know everything.

“I can’t control it!” You said

“She’s panicking.” Jake said

“How do you know?” Bradley asked

“I just know. Her voice does a certain thing. I was the only one to pick it up as a kid. It is how I knew she needed help and she would call me with that same tone when she was in trouble.” Jake explained

“She has this handled. She's Storm. Nothing can bring her down.” Mickey said and everyone nodded in agreement.

“She’s strong for sure. As kids we were playing on the ranch and riding horses and her horse threw her off and instead of giving up, she got back on. She showed the horse who was the boss. Another time we were running around barefoot and she cut her foot open on barbed wire and she acted like it was nothing. She sat through the stitches. She’s a storm to be reckoned with. It is how she got her callsign.” Jake explained trying to take his mind off what was happening up in the sky.

“She’s going to be ok.” Ruben said and they nodded.

“I know she will be.” Jake said

“We’re going down, Storm! We’re going in! We’re going in!” Bob yells

“You can’t save it. Eject, eject!” Maverick said and repeated over and over again.

“Eject, eject, eject!” You yell out finally.

“Altitude. Altitude.” The automated voice said as Bob ejects and then you follow him. Both parachutes open as the jet crashes into the earth. You somehow ended up being closest to the blast and it pushed you away and you landed it hard onto the ground right on your ankle and you gave a cry out. Bob landed and was quick to get over to you.

“Are you ok?” He asks

“No, my ankle.” You say as you go to sit up but you give another cry. You then look down and see blood starting to soak through your flight suit. “Shit.” You say as you begin to get light headed.

“Hey no you stay awake.” He said

“I’m sorry.” You say and then you black out.

As Maverick walks into the rec room Jake comes running up to him. “Where is she?” He asks frantically.

“She’s in the hospital. Some debris from the jet crashing impaled her. Her ankle also took a hit. They took her into surgery but I don’t know anything else. They’re keeping her and Bob overnight and maybe her even longer. Go.” He said and Jake nodded and took off as most people do now it was just Bradley and him.

“How is she?” Bradley asks

“She is mostly ok.” He said

“What does that mean?” He asks

“Some debris from the jet crashing impaled her. Her ankle also took a hit. They took her into surgery but I don’t know anything else. They’re keeping her and Bob overnight and maybe her even longer.” He said and Bradley nodded tears and they steadily fell down his face.

“I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry I cut you off. I was just so pissed that you pulled my papers. It wasn’t fair. I can’t lose her. I love her.” Bradley said and Maverick smiled.

“I forgive you. Go and tell her.” Maverick said and he nodded and took off. When he reached the hospital, everyone was in the waiting room waiting.

“Jake is with Y/N. He’s family so he was the only one allowed to go back there.” Ruben said

“Bradley?” A familiar voice asked and he turned around and saw Mark.

“Mark, have you heard?” He asked and Mark shook his head.

“No, what is going on? Why is everyone here?” He asked

“There was an incident with Javy and Bob and Y/N had a bird strike and had to eject. Some debris hit her and her ankle took a hit.” Bradley explained.

“Oh my gosh. Any updates?” He asked

“They took her into surgery and repaired what they needed. Jake is with her now since he is family. They’re keeping them both overnight and her maybe longer.” Bradley said and he nodded.

“I need to get back to Grayson. Please keep me updated.” He asked and Bradley nodded.

“I will.” He said as Jake came out and everyone looked at him.

“She’s awake but is asking for you Bradley.” He said turning to him and he nodded and followed Jake to your room and about that time everyone was allowed to see Bob too. Bradley walked in without Jake.

“Y/N/N.” He said and you looked up at him.

“Hi.” You said

“You scared me, you know.” He said

“I’m sorry. I scared myself too.” You said trying to move but winced.

“Don’t move.” He said moving closer and holding you down.

“I know but it’s so uncomfortable.” You said and he nodded.

“I know. I need to tell you something.” He said and you nodded at him to continue “I love you. I have loved you since pilot school. I’m sorry I ghosted you and I know I already said it but I’m saying it again. I was trying to figure out my feelings for you and in the end, it hurt you and I’m deeply sorry for that.” He said and you smiled.

“I love you too, Bradley. Ever since pilot school. Yes, I was hurt when you ghosted me but I get it. I love you with all my heart.” You said as the pain meds started to kick in and he saw this.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked and you nodded.

“I would love nothing more.” You said and he smiled and he pressed his lips to yours. Sparks flew. You would’ve stayed like that forever but Mickey’s voice sounded.

“About damn time! Look how cute the two of them are!” He exclaimed and you two pulled apart and looked at them.

“Oh, would you shut up and leave the love birds alone?” Javy said smiling

“But they are so cute!” Ruben said gushing.

“Remember, you hurt her and I’m shooting you down.” Jake said

“Jakester, stop it. I can take care of myself.” You said smiling and he walked over.

“I know but I’m just doing my brotherly duties.” He said and you smiled.

“I appreciate that.” You said “Get them out of here for me. I want some time alone with him.” You said and he nodded “Can you let Mark know I’m, ok?” You asked.

“You got it, Sis.” He said and started to push people out and when they were out and gone, he went to let Mark know and you turned to Bradley.

“Let me take you to dinner when all of this is over.” He said and you smiled and nodded.

“Sounds perfect.” You said and yawned and he smiled.

“Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He said and kissed your head as you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep. Sure, your day might not have ended up like you planned but that what comes with being a Naval Aviator but in the end, you got the man you loved. Everything for the moment was perfect.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

@angenu01-blog

@talesofreading

@callsign-revenge

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image-thot · 1 year ago

Text

Throw Him Off His Rhythm: Mirage x Reader

Fandom: Transformers Rotb

Summary: After getting caught and subsequently losing a bet he made to his human, Mirage now finds himself having to follow through with his end of the deal.

Words: 1,517

Warnings: Masturbating, handjobs, Sub/Dom, orgasm denial

A/N: The reader is written as gender-neutral. I did indeed spend a little time today figuring out an average size estimate for how big a cybertrionians spike would be (more specifically Mirages) relative to them and their humans because I needed something to like visualise or something. Can’t lie I may be on my way to making a table of transformers and how big their spikes are, if you by primus wanna see that let me know XD

Enjoy the fic.

"Shit. Shit. Shit." The string of curses leaves Mirage's vocaliser as he awkwardly shimmied down the narrow alleyway.

"Why'd the perfect spot have to be so fragging, hard to get to." Mindful of his finish he carefully squeezes out of the alley into the outdoor courtyard.

Sure it wasn't the nicest looking or biggest of hiding spots, but it was private and quiet. Panelling sliding open as he sits on the ground, leaning back against the brick wall he sighs in relief as his burning spike pressurises already dripping transfluid.

"Frag finally, for a second thought I was going to burst a line." Servo quickly dives down to wrap around his spike and he bites back a moan as his servo begins to stroke at a fast pace, aching to relieve the burning pressure.

"You couldn't wait until after the meeting?" Helm hitting the wall behind him as he groans, of course it couldn’t and you knew that all too well otherwise you wouldn’t have followed him out here.

Although amusing at the time making, a bet to see who could go the longest without needing to fuck or masturbate wasn’t his most brilliant idea. In his defence he thought humans weren’t capable of going more than a day let alone a week without having to self-service themselves, all but certain he’d have the win in the bag.

It didn’t help him that you’d poke and provoke his imagination, you’d butter him up with your sweet words which had done more than just stroke at his ego. Not-so-subtle innuendos had on more than one occasion almost had his interface panels sliding back, it’s a miracle he had managed to last this long.

“Obviously not.” Servo still stroking his spike as he speaks optics looking everywhere but your eyes, he doesn’t need need to look at your face to see the grin that spreads across it. “I can see that but aren’t you forgetting something?” Your words tease him as a huff of annoyance leaves his intake, slowly making your way over to him you lean against the wall next to him.

“Fine. Fine. You win. You a human can outlast me a cybertronian. Happy now? Cuz I could really use some help.” Continues to stroke his spike as other servo reaches out to grab you, when you quickly dart out of his reach a whined gasp leaves him.

"W-what? Come on you can’t be serious.” You chuckle at his needy response no doubt in your mind that if your roles were reversed he would have teased you.

“But didn’t you say the winner could order the looser around for an entire week?” Smugness dripped off your words as you watched his frame slump forward, a defeated sigh leaving him.

“Yeah, but I thought you’d just wanna be on top or something. Not like. Not like leave me hanging.” Sending the best puppy dog eyes he could muster your way, hoping you’d cave into his needs.

“Mirage. You wouldn’t be trying to go back on your word, would you?” A fake look of disappointment briefly covers your face as carefully move around his legs coming to a stop by his pedes.

“What!? Of course not! I mean, after so long I figured that you'd. You know, wanna fool around." Servos still as he watches you contemplate and tries to stop his legs from bouncing impatiently as he waits for your response. A devious look spreads across your eyes as you walk between his legs, hand coming up to trace between the seams as you move closer.

"I suppose, a little fun now wouldn't hurt. If you promise to stand by your word and do exactly as I say." Missing the dark edge of your words as he moans out a string of yes. Now standing in front of his leaking spike you give him a playful smile as you tap the servo that had slowly resumed its stroking.

"Servos by your side's big boy and no matter what. You don't touch me or your spike." Words are spoken as if you're sending him into battle, your hands gently caressing the metal and seams around his heated array.

"Sir yes sir!~" The chuckle he lets out after his own words are cut off by a soft moan and his servos drop-down like rocks off a bridge, digits grip the ground as your breath fans over his spike.

"Good." You hum as one hand trails up to his spike while the other continues to tease the wires between his seams.

Your eyes watch his faceplate like a predator, his optics offlining and scrunching up when your hand delicately runs up his spike. Shifting your gaze back down to his spike, your fingers briefly graze over the tip blue biolights pulse at the touch and a gaspe escape his intake. Fingers move back down as your hand begins to slowly stoke easily gliding thanks to all the pre-leaked transfluid.

"Frag." A moaned whisper breaks from him as his hips twitch and he desperately holds back from thrusting them into your hand.

A chuckle escapes you, eyes moving back to his faceplate as they keenly watch him bite his derma as his helm hits the wall behind it. Digits dig into the ground below them, frame shifting uncomfortably as you barely increase the speed of your hand and a whine slips out and his optics online.

"Please baby. Frag you're killing me here." Optics looking down at you and he groans as a smirk briefly returns to your face.

"Aww, I'm sorry." A fake pout spreads over your face as your hand begins to stroke a little faster, eyes never leaving him as your mouth moves in closer to his spike.

"Would you like me to go a little faster?" The teasing words fan hot air over the sensitive tip of his spike and have his hips jolting up. Spike almost pushing into your mouth you move your head back with a chuckle and your hand speeds up.

"Yes! Please babes! Frag I wanna be inside you so bad!" Optics offlining as his words fall out along with his desperate moans as your mouth moves away.

Your other hand finally leaves the cluster of wires it had been teasing to wander to his spike, your thumb firmly runs over the tip and he gasps out. Frame shaking you can see the strain in his servos as he desperately keeps them from reaching out to grab you. Hand stroking faster as your fingers tease around his leaking tip, whined moans leave his vocaliser as he approaches his overloaded and you bite your lip holding back your own moan.

"Frag babes I'm so close! Frag yes. Yes." The words fall freely from him as his spike throbs, biolights pulsing quicker as he almost reaches the tipping point of his pleasure and just like that your hands pull away.

"What?! Frag babes you ok? I'm almost there." The desperation, confusion and slight concern are evident in his voice as his optics look down to identify the reason for your sudden lack of touch.

When his optics catch the devious smile spread across your face as your hands link behind your back, the realisation of your motives slowly comes to his lust-filled processor.

"No please! You can't! Babes come on. Just a little more! Don't leave me like this! I-I'm almost done then- you can ride my face place however long you want after! Please." Panicked and pleading for you to tip him over the edge, his legs shake and servos hit the ground in frustration but never make any move towards you or his spike.

The pleasure that surges throughout your body as you watch him in such a state of need and want, you almost want to jump on his spike then and there. Unlike your partner, you have a lot more self-restraint.

"I said I'd have a little fun. Nothing about letting you overload." You hum out enjoying the look of needy frustration that covers his faceplate.

"Come one. Babe's I've been good! I-I didn't touch-." His babbling words are cut off by your own stern ones.

"Good and you'll keep it that way." Smirk dissipates into your normal loving smile as you shift from between his legs.

"What no!" Shifting to his knees as you continue to walk into the small alley. "You can't leave me like this!"

"I think I will." You muse out as you wave your hand for him to follow.

"Perhaps I'll change my mind a little later. Until then we've gotta get back to the others." You call out from the end of the alley, not missing the small sob and whine that comes from him as you make your way back into the building.

"This is going to be so much fun if he can keep his servos away from his spike." You think to yourself as apologize to the others for your brief absence, trying to hide your smirk when a rather tense and twitchy Mirage tries to sneak his way back into the building.

#transformers #x reader #smut #reader insert #transformers mirage x reader #transformers mirage #mirage x reader #rotb mirage #mirage x human reader #mirage #rise of the beasts #mirage rotb #tf rotb #tf mirage #transformers rotb #oneshot #transformer drabbles #drabble

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delenygma · 1 month ago

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❓Dano!Riddler Headcanons: Part 16 | 💚 It's nice to take a break. (Requested by Anon) 💚❓

I might have gotten a little carried away with this one, but he really needed this.

Riddler-obsessed/potential copycat killer material Reader is a flavour I greatly enjoy 🖤

TW: stalking, kidnapping, drugging (briefly described), implied disordered eating habits.

🟢 Edward is fine, of course. Nothing matters anymore, other than his plan. So meticulously crafted, so perfect, the sole reason why he was brought into this wretched world.

🟢 Perhaps you are overexaggerating. Perhaps he does sometimes turn off that small, spluttering lamp at night. Perhaps he doesn't buy groceries because he somehow has the money to eat while he's out every day. Perhaps his eyes weren't dull and bloodshot during his last stream. You keep quiet, keep all this to yourself. The others don't seem to notice. They are too preoccupied with detonators.

🟢 One evening, you catch a glimpse of him through the peephole in your door, staggering down the hallway, his hand pressed against the wall for support. Leaning against it, you can see his shoulders trembling. That's when you decide to take matters into your own hands. Even though deep down, you do think that your plan is absolute dogshit.

🟢 A few days later, he returns home from the office. His senses are so dulled at this point that he fails to notice he is being watched.

🟢 -WRETCHEDWRETCHEDINADEQUATE-

🟢 You watch as Edward snatches the instant noodle pot and fills it with hot water, wincing before bringing it to his lips and taking a sip. It's scalding, tasteless, but it doesn't matter, because it all tastes like poison, anyway. He doesn't have the time to panic when the slightly metallic taste hits the back of his throat. Within a few seconds, he is out, cold.

🟢 Edward awakens so softly, stirring as he pulls the blanket snugly around himself. You crouch down in front of the sofa and reach out to stroke his cheek - you cannot stop yourself. But before you quite manage to do so, Edward's eyelids flutter open and he grabs your wrist - he is crushing it-

🟢 "W-who are you?" His voice is hoarse, slow. You reassure him that he is okay, that he is safe, and that you won't hurt him, that he can trust you. "A-and why should I trust you?" You roll up your sleeve to reveal a small stick-and-poke tattoo, a question mark you did while watching one of his streams one night. "Because I'm dedicated." Edward's eyes widen.

🟢 You've seen his face without the mask, and now you know who he is, but it's okay. He can deal with that later. His soul is so tired. So weary. The drugs still course through his system.

🟢 He blinks slowly, taking in his surroundings. The layout of the room mirrors his own, but feels... Softer. It feels like a home. There are books on the coffee table - Dostoyevsky, Pessoa. The television hums lightly in the background, a four-hour deep dive about Deep Blue. Candlelight flickers, casting soft shadows on the walls.

🟢 Edward sinks back onto the sofa and closes his eyes. In that moment, he looks so small and vulnerable, so worn out, so pathetic. "And... W-why are you doing this, exactly?"

🟢 Your words tumble out in a jumbled mess - you want to help because you can't bear to see this, you're terrified. He is your only hope, and sometimes it feels like he's all you have left to hold onto. Edward remains silent, his face almost expressionless, yet he hangs on every word you say. He is lapping it up. His initial apprehension begins to dissipate, replaced by something else. He can't quite identify it, but it feels so good - so overwhelmingly good.

🟢 -YOUAREDISGUSTINGYOUWILLREGRETTHIS-

🟢 You see the effect your words have on him. They are hypnotising him. You continue, singing his praises, explaining just how much you think he needs a break. Plus, you made a casserole, would he like some?

🟢 He freezes at the mention of food, which you notice but don’t address. Undeterred, you keep talking - you're actually quite a good cook, and you'll be having some, too. He eventually gives in, taking small, tentative bites while you tell him how much you admire him, and it feels so good.

🟢 -YOUWILLPURGETHESEFEELINGSRIGHTOUTOFYOURSYSTEM-

🟢 At some point, you both realise you are pretending - pretending that everything is fine, that everything is great, normal, just for this evening. Come dawn, you’ll both return to your lives, teetering once again on the edge of destruction. In a week’s time, you will find yourself handcuffed to a table ("I swear, those drops weren’t mine, officer!"), and Mayor Mitchell will be dead.

🟢 But… it's nice to take a break sometimes, isn’t it?

#del's posts #del's headcanons #the riddler #dano riddler #edward nashton #the riddler headcanons #dano riddler headcanons #edward nashton headcanons #the riddler x reader #dano riddler x reader #edward nashton x reader #danonation #headcanons #x reader #tw stalking #tw kidnapping #tw drugging #tw ed implied

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cheynovak · 1 month ago

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Sheriff’s Bargain - Part 2

Characters: Beau Arlen x F/Reader Y/N

Summary: Y/N, a seasoned con artist, is arrested after returning to Montana, where her past comes back to haunt her in the form of Sheriff Beau Arlen—the man she abandoned five years ago. Facing charges linked to a drug lord, she’s offered a deal to work as an informant. Torn between her criminal life and lingering feelings for Beau, Y/N must decide whether to help him bring down the crime ring or continue running from her past.

Warnings: Mentioning of breaking the law

English is not my first language

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*

I worked with Beau and the sheriff's department as best as I could, but every day felt like walking a tightrope. No matter how much I helped, I couldn’t shake the feeling that they saw me as the devil in disguise—a criminal wearing a thin mask of cooperation. Beau, especially, kept his distance. Professional, detached. Like I was just another asset in his pursuit of justice. Maybe that’s what I was now.

The latest task was more difficult than I expected. I’d already given them all the intel I had, but most of it was old, whispers on the street, fragments of conversations from six years ago when I was doing jobs for Declan King. And in the criminal world, six years was a lifetime. They needed more than whispers. They needed something concrete.

So they wired me up and sent me back in. My target: King’s right-hand man, Grady. A dangerous guy with a reputation for sniffing out rats. I thought I could handle it—I’d slipped into and out of tighter situations before, but this one was close. Too close.

Grady wasn’t an idiot, and I felt him watching me the entire time, waiting for me to slip up. He got suspicious. Real suspicious. And he was right, all of the sudden I asked to meat pretending to be in trouble needing to loan money, I never asked my clients for loans, and they knew, but I played my part.

Things almost went south, but I kept my cool, spun a story about old times, and managed to walk out of there with a new bond, they would call me whenever they had a job for me. Whatever that may be.

I was shaking when I left their place, in desperate need for a drink.

But now, sitting alone at the bar, I could still feel the adrenaline coursing through me. I was shaking inside, no matter how calm I’d appeared on the surface. I’d been one wrong word away from being found out, and that scared me more than I wanted to admit.

The whiskey in front of me wasn’t helping. It wasn’t chasing away the cold fear that had settled in my bones, but I kept drinking anyway, hoping that eventually it would. The bar was dim, full of noise and life, but I felt distant from it all, lost in my own head.

That’s when I saw him.

Beau walked in, scanning the room like he always did, his eyes sharp and focused. He spotted me instantly, and I could see his jaw tighten as he made his way over. He didn’t belong here, not in this seedy dive bar with its sticky floors and cheap liquor. But then again, neither did I. Not anymore.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low as he slid onto the barstool beside me. He didn’t order a drink. He just sat there, watching me, his eyes darker than usual.

I glanced at him, then took another sip of my whiskey. “Didn’t realize the sheriff was making house calls to dive bars now.”

“You should be more careful,” he said, ignoring my sarcasm. “Grady’s men hang around places like this. You don’t want to attract the wrong kind of attention.”

I laughed, but it sounded hollow even to my own ears. “I think I’ve already attracted all the wrong kinds of attention, don’t you think?”

Beau’s gaze didn’t waver. “What happened back there?”

I swallowed hard, my grip tightening around the glass. “I handled it. Just like I always do.”

“Barely,” he said, his tone sharp. “We were listening, Y/N. You were one step away from blowing your cover.”

His words stung, more than they should have. “What do you want me to say, Beau? I got in, didn’t I?”

Beau leaned closer, his voice dropping. “This isn’t a game. These people aren’t going to let you walk away if they find out you’re working with us. And if you go down, we can’t pull you out in time.”

I met his gaze, feeling a surge of frustration. “You think I don’t know that? You think I haven’t been living with that reality for years now? I tried to stay as far away from King as possible, I know what he is.” I set the glass down a little too hard, the sound sharp against the noise of the bar. “I’m doing this for you. For your case. Don’t forget that.”

There was a moment of silence between us, the weight of everything unsaid hanging in the air.

“For me? I didn’t start a life in crime, did I?” Beau finally said, his voice softer but rough. “No,” I said, my voice quieter now too. “But you asked me to help, didn’t you?”

He didn’t respond, just stared at me with those eyes that made it hard to breathe. I wondered if he saw it, the fear I was trying so hard to drown in whiskey, the exhaustion that came from years of looking over my shoulder. Or maybe he just saw me for who I really was, a criminal trying to play at redemption.

Beau sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, Y/N, I get it. I know this isn’t easy for you. But we’re in deep now. You keep going, and we’ll get King. But if it gets too dangerous, you need to tell me. You need to let me pull you out before it’s too late.”

I looked down at the glass in my hands, turning it slowly. “Look, don't pretend you even care for me after what I did.” Beau was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “Maybe I am.”

There was something in his voice that made me look up at him, something I hadn’t heard in a long time. Concern. Real concern. For me. And that was what scared me more than anything.

“I can handle it,” I said, though I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince—him or myself.

Beau’s eyes softened, but he didn’t push me further. Instead, he stood up, sliding some cash onto the bar. “I’ll drive you home. You’ve had enough for tonight.”

I wanted to argue, to tell him I didn’t need his help, but the truth was, I was too tired. Too tired of fighting him, of fighting myself. So I nodded, letting him guide me out of the bar and into the cool Montana night.

As we walked to his truck, the silence between us felt different. Not heavy with tension like before, but something else. Something almost… familiar. For the first time in years, I didn’t feel like I had to run. At least, not tonight.

But as Beau opened the truck door for me, the memories of last time I hopped in his car lingered in my mind.

The drive started off in silence, the only sound the steady hum of the engine and the occasional bump in the road. I stared out the window, the dark Montana landscape blurring by, trying to piece together the tangle of emotions that had knotted up in my chest since Beau walked into that bar.

I wasn’t sure how to explain it to him—or if I even wanted to. Finally, Beau broke the silence. “Why?” I blinked, caught off guard. “Why what?” He glanced at me, his jaw tight. “Why do this? Work with me. Was it just because I asked?”

I sighed, looking back out the window. “Yes, because you asked. What else was I supposed to do? It was either help or rot in a cell.”

He shook his head, like he was upset with the truth, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. His voice dropped, more raw now. “Why date me back then? Was it just for the money? Another job?”

The question hit me harder than I expected. My stomach twisted, and I knew this conversation was inevitable, but I wasn’t ready for it. I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for an answer, and I stayed quiet, hoping that maybe if I didn’t respond, the question would disappear. But my silence spoke louder than words.

I owed him an explanation. After all this time, he deserved at least that much. “At first... yeah,” I admitted softly, the words heavy in my throat. “It was about the job. You seemed like someone I could get intel from, maybe sell it and make a quick score.”

I could feel him tense beside me, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Figures,” he muttered under his breath, but he didn’t interrupt.

“But then…” I continued, my voice almost a whisper, “I realized you were a good man. Different from anyone I’d ever met. And that’s why I left.”

Beau gave a short, humorless laugh, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, but it wasn’t a smile that reached his eyes. “I’m sure you’ve stolen from good men before. What made me different?”

I looked down at my hands, fidgeting with my fingers, the weight of his question hanging between us. “You were different, Beau. You didn’t deserve to be dragged into the mess I was in. You were too… good for me... You still are.”

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. I could feel the frustration rolling off him in waves, the unsatisfied tension in his smirk. “Good men get conned all the time, Y/N. It’s not about deserving.”

“I know that,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “But with you, it felt different. You made me see something in myself I didn’t want to face. That’s why I left, not because I didn’t care… but because I cared too much.”

Beau glanced over at me, his eyes softened, though the hurt was still there, just beneath the surface. “You could’ve stayed. Maybe we could’ve figured it out.”

I shook my head, tears prickling at the back of my eyes. “No, Beau. You deserved better than the mess I was, better than someone who couldn’t even be honest with you.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time, just drove in silence, and I wondered if I had said too much or not enough. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he sighed deeply.

“You know,” he said, his voice low, “ I was angry when you left. But what hurts more now is that you didn’t trust me enough to let me help you. To see who you really were, to get you out.”

I swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in my throat. “I didn’t what to get out, Beau." He looked at me, "And now?" "I-I, I don't know… at least I’m trying to, I guess.”

We didn’t say much after that, the silence between us heavy but not as suffocating as before. There were no easy answers, no way to fix the past. But maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward, even if it was messy and uncertain.

As Beau pulled into the driveway of the safe house where I’d be staying for now, I took a deep breath. This wasn’t over—neither the case nor whatever this was between us. It felt like we were standing at the edge of something, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to step off or if I was going to fall.

I asked if he wanted to come in. He hesitated, his hand hovering over the keys still in the ignition, eyes locked on the house ahead. For a moment, I thought he might say yes. But then he shook his head, his jaw set. “Not tonight,” he said quietly, his voice rough, as if it took more effort to say those two words than he wanted to admit.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Okay.”

The air between us felt heavy, weighted down by everything unsaid, everything I couldn’t fix. I jumped out of the car and started walking toward the house, the cool night air biting at my skin. With each step, I felt a strange mix of relief and regret—relief that we had finally talked, that we’d gotten more out in that car ride than we had in all the weeks working together. But regret… because I’d hurt him. And seeing the hurt still lingering in his eyes twisted something deep inside me.

The porch light flickered as I reached the door. I fumbled with the key, but my mind was still back in the car with Beau. He’d been distant, cold even, for most of our time working together. But tonight, for the first time in years, he let some of that guard down, even if just for a moment.

I should have felt good about it. I should’ve felt relieved. But the truth was, knowing I had caused him that pain… it felt horrible. Worse than I’d imagined it would.

Once inside, I leaned against the door, closing my eyes for a moment, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me. I wasn’t used to this—feeling this way, caring this much about someone other than myself. It was easier when I was just a con, slipping in and out of people’s lives without looking back. But with Beau… I’d let myself care. And now I couldn’t escape the consequences of that.

I hurt him, and I didn’t know if I could ever undo that.

I opened my eyes, my heart pounding as I took in the sight of the trashed room. Furniture overturned, papers scattered, and the uneasy silence that followed the realization that someone had been here—looking for me. The blood drained from my face. I fumbled for my phone, my hands trembling as I dialed Beau’s number. He picked up on the first ring.

“Beau, someone’s been here. The place is smashed—”

“I’m still close. Stay put. I’m on my way.”

Minutes felt like hours as I stood in the wreckage, waiting, every sound making my pulse spike. When Beau arrived, he rushed to me, his eyes scanning the room before settling on me, his jaw tight. He didn’t say anything at first, just placed a hand on my arm, grounding me in the chaos.

His colleagues from the department showed up soon after, combing through the place, searching for clues, for any sign of who had broken in. But I already knew who. Kings men. He must’ve gotten wind that I was here. I was on their radar now, and the realization sent a chill down my spine.

Beau stood next to me as his team worked, his presence steady and solid in the middle of my spiraling fear. When the search was over, and the immediate threat cleared, he turned to me, his brow furrowed with concern.

“You can’t stay here,” he said, his voice firm. “We’ll find a new safehouse, but for tonight…” He hesitated, his eyes searching mine. “You’ll stay at my place.”

I didn’t argue. The fear gnawing at my insides left no room for pride. I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

At his house, the tension still clung to me like a second skin. I sat on the couch while Beau moved into the kitchen. He returned a few moments later with a cup of tea, setting it down in front of me. His eyes stayed on me longer than usual, a mix of worry and something deeper swimming in them.

“You’re scared,” he said softly, leaning against the counter.

I didn’t deny it. “I am.”

He didn’t say anything, just turned, rummaged through a drawer, and came back with a gun in his hand. He held it out to me, his expression serious. “Do you know how to work this?”

I nodded, my voice steady despite the fear. “Since I was five.” His eyebrows shot up, his concern deepening. “Five?” I smiled, but it was bitter. “Girls with normal childhoods don’t grow up to be criminals, Beau.”

He watched me for a long moment, the weight of my words sinking in. His shoulders sagged slightly, and I could see it in his face—he wanted to ask more, to dig deeper into the past I rarely talked about. But he didn’t. Instead, he sat down beside me, the space between us charged with unspoken things.

“You don’t have to be that girl anymore,” he said quietly.

I looked at him, really looked at him. But no matter how much I wanted to believe him, the fear, the darkness of my past, still felt too close, too much a part of me.

“Maybe not,” I said, forcing a smile.

Beau didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes said enough. He wasn’t going to let me run this time. And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

“Tell me about her.”

I looked up, meeting Beau’s steady gaze. “Really?” I asked, a little surprised he wanted to go down this road.

He nodded, leaning back slightly. “I presume the stories you gave me on our dates were... false?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but the tension between us lingered.

I smiled, a little apologetically. “Most of them, yeah.”

“Come on,” he said with a teasing glint in his eyes, trying to lighten the mood. “You’ve got dirt on me too.”

I shook my head, my smile fading. “Yeah, but you’ve got dirt on me to put me in jail.”

His face softened, and he didn’t deny it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, watching me, waiting. The easygoing sheriff was gone, replaced by a man who wanted to know the truth. I could see the weight of the years between us, the unsaid things that were about to come to the surface.

I took a deep breath, staring at the floor for a moment before looking back up at him. “You really want to know?”

Beau didn’t move, just nodded once. “Yeah. I do.”

I leaned forward, clasping my hands together, trying to figure out where to even start. My life wasn’t a story with a clean beginning or an easy ending. It was messy, full of jagged edges and broken pieces.

“I grew up in a place where trust got you hurt,” I began, my voice low. “My dad… he wasn’t a good man. He ran with the wrong crowd—gamblers, lowlifes. He was a con artist, too. I guess that’s where I got it from. But he wasn’t careful. He owed a lot of people money, people who weren’t too happy when he couldn’t pay.”

Beau stayed quiet, his eyes never leaving mine, but I could tell he was taking it all in. He didn’t interrupt, just let me keep going.

“I was five when I learned how to handle a gun,” I continued. “Because he wasn’t home most nights, and when he was, it wasn’t safe. My mom left when I was a kid, so I didn’t have anyone to teach me what normal was. I learned survival from the people around me—thieves, liars, con artists. By the time I was twelve, I was running scams with my dad. He called it ‘teaching me the family business.’” I laughed bitterly at the memory. “But really, it was just survival.”

Beau’s face hardened, but he didn’t say anything. I could see the way his fists clenched slightly at his sides, like he was imagining that little girl growing up in that world.

“Eventually, I got good at it. Better than my dad. I moved on from his small-time schemes to bigger things. By the time I was twenty, I was on my own, pulling jobs for some very dangerous people. And once you’re in that life, it’s not easy to get out. You know too much, and people don’t forget that. You don’t get to just disappear.”

I looked down at my hands, feeling the weight of all those years press down on me again. “That’s why I left you, Beau. I didn’t want to drag you into the mess I was in. I thought if I just disappeared, maybe I could protect you from all of it.”

I glanced up, searching his face for some sign of what he was thinking. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but steady.

“I knew you were running from something, but I didn’t realize it was all that.”

I shrugged, trying to play it off, but the truth was, telling him all of this felt like exposing a part of me I’d kept hidden for years. “It’s not exactly first-date material.”

He gave a small, humorless smile. “No, I guess not.”

Silence settled between us again, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. He was piecing things together, seeing me in a way he hadn’t before. And I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse.

“You’re not your dad, Y/N,” Beau said after a moment, his voice firm. “You’ve made mistakes, yeah, but you’re not him. You don’t need to be like him.”

I let out a long breath, my eyes drifting back to the floor. “Sometimes, it feels like I am. Like I’m stuck in this cycle, doing what I know best because it’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at.”

Beau leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, closing the distance between us. “You’ve been trying to survive your whole life. That’s not the same as being a bad person.”

I looked up at him, his words sinking in, but I wasn’t sure I could believe them. Not yet, anyway. “I don’t know how to be anyone else,” I whispered.

Beau reached over, gently placing his hand on mine. “Then maybe it’s time you learn.” I stared at him, the warmth of his touch grounding me in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

“How?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “You’re doing it already,” Beau said softly, his eyes steady on mine.

For a moment, the air between us shifted. The tension that had been simmering for weeks boiled over. My eyes drifted to his lips, and before I could think twice, I leaned in, crashing into him with all the pent-up emotions I’d been trying to ignore. His lips were warm, familiar, and for a second, he let me. He kissed me back, and it felt like the world was slipping away.

But just as quickly, he pulled back, his hands on my shoulders, gently but firmly pushing me away. His eyes were conflicted, full of emotions he wasn’t ready to act on. “Bad idea,” he muttered, standing up and running a hand through his hair.

I sat there, my heart racing, feeling the sting of rejection, but also knowing he was right. This was too messy. There was too much between us now.

Beau walked toward his bedroom, not looking back. “Goodnight,” he said, his voice low and strained.

I watched him disappear down the hall, my mind spinning. I wasn’t sure what I expected when I kissed him, but this—this felt like a deeper kind of hurt. One that came with the weight of everything we’d been through, and everything we hadn’t said.

I sat there for a long time after, the house quiet, the warmth of his touch lingering on my skin.

Let me know what you think ❤️ for more stories s

check my masterlist.

Taglist:

@kr804573 @nancymcl @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78 @whimsyfinny @kamisobsessed @call-me-mrs-winchester @ferrersbiggestfan

#jensen ackles #fanfic #x reader #jensen fucking ackles #fluff #beau arlen #big sky #romantic

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kalmiaphlox · 3 months ago

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Snippet Sunday

thank you for the taggy @busy-baker

Hoping to post my first chapter from my arranged marriage AU, "Till Lies Break Our Hearts", tomorrow possibly.

Here's a little cut of Astarion hanging out with the in-laws.

They already have a table set up with multiple chairs, and Astarion takes a spot perpendicular to the brothers, who face each other. Mal is preparing to shuffle when Arkay’s hand shoots out, stopping him. “Whoa, let Astarion do that. You always shuffle in your favor.” Mal’s lips twist ruefully. “Only if you roll your sleeves up, you grabby little goblin. Could you shuffle for us, brother?” Taking the cards carefully to hide his bruised hand, Astarion performs a few swing cuts, shuffling once in luskan style, followed up by a riffle shuffle and finally bridges them together in his hands. He’ll give them some fair shuffles this time since he isn’t sure what side to take yet. “Shall I deal as well?” Both men’s jaws are hanging open and Astarion knows he made a mistake. He wasn’t thinking, just diving straight into shuffling with no regard for how it would make him look. The meek man he’s pretending to be would not do that. Though he’s surprised he could do it to begin with, the compulsions Cazador put down must be a little too broad.

tagging anyone who might like to post! @roguishcat, @spagyricqueen, @shewhowas39, @preciouslittlebhaalbae, @pinkberrytea

@inkymoonbunny

#Snipper sunday #astarion #fanfic #baldur's gate 3

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minas-linkverse · 1 year ago

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Do you have any tips or tricks on how to start a comic like this? Or even just how you got started?? I've had my own au for years that I so badly wanna put out into the world but I've been struggling with finding a good way to start it!!!!

Hm!! Ok!! This is a tough question with many different answers even just from me. I'll do my best to answer tho!! 😮

The main bit of advice I want to give, and which I think is vital to anyone creating anything:

☆ Know yourself.

When looking up advice for creating, people love to tell you that by doing things a specific way is the best and only way to go. Often advice of this sort has solid points, you should plan ahead, you should have easy character designs, buut... You don't have to.

I do not work well with outlines or scripts. I dislike sketching. You'd think that'd make being a long form comic artist impossible for me, but nope.

I know theres things I cannot do, so I've put all my practise to what I can do. My lineart style allows me to almost skip sketching completely, my scripts are more of an A to B structure than law. I improv 90% of the time when making pages. It's kinda like dnd with myself.

I would absolutely not reccomend what I'm doing to others, but I know it works for me. People can tell me I'm doing it wrong but its either wrong or no comic at all, SO. Suck it. 👍

Er. Rambling now.

My point is, figure out what you can and cant do, and do your best to give yourself the ideal work enviorment and process.

☆ Deal with being overwhelmed

Making just a few panels and suddenly realising its gonna take years to get anywhere is SO demoralising. It's gonna happen and its gonna happen again, and again, and—

But continuing with the earlier advice, you gotta ask yourself what would help you. Are you willing to sacrifice quality? Do you just need a break? Maybe you're like me and like to include smth you love in every update so you'll have something to get excited about making.

That feeling of overwhelm is trying to tell you something, so figure out what that is so it wont end the project for you.

☆ Start it

You wont like what you make when starting. I've never heard of an artist who has.

I'm not saying start this instant, not everyone is as into improv and flailing around as me. But I will say you'll never feel ready. Figure out the minimun of what you need to start and do it. Show friends first if youre afraid to post.

Also where to start? Well sure there's lots of good advice online about that, but you can also just doodle random stuff until you feel like diving deeper. That's what LV started with, just Twi and Wild hanging out with animals and some headcanons. It may not be the most tightly written work but theres beauty in the humanity of a mess.

☆ Extras

A "failed project" or "forgotten WIP" is only a failure if you let yourself feel that way. Yea it can be a hauntingly strong feeling thats hard to deal with... But it can be beaten. WIPS are proof you tried and not everyone can say they have.

Lv is far from done and I have no intention of dropping it, but because the journey has been so nice I'd satisfied even if I had to call it here. Its smth that helps me with the overwhelm... What I've made is beautiful even now.

Comparing yourself to others is gonna rip your heart out. I love that theres other links meet aus out there and hope the best for those artists but I caNNot follow any of them or I'll crumble to dust.

So Uhm.

Basically. Have fun and be yourself. 👍

Ps. Readability is basically the most important thing for a comic artist to pay attention to, that and not destroying yourself with details and rendering. 🙌 Good luck out there!

#Ask #I love discussing stuff like that but it always ends up so rambly and long ahsjjdjr #I hope I said at least smth slightly concrete

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siriusleee · 2 years ago

Text

pamphlets

summary:

You can feel it: his rage right beneath the surface of that Statue of David façade he wears so well. You're not sure if it's the exhaustion or the blasé way he was sitting on your couch when you walked in, but you want to pull at his threads - unravel them the way he unravels you.

"Was it mine?"

tw: child-loss, miscarriage ghost x reader request a fic here

"Dinner's in the kitchen."

He doesn't greet you as you step into your apartment; the four walls are barely enough to contain the two of you. You're exhausted in the way you've never been before, the excitement of him being in your home barely enough to keep you from diving straight into bed. He shifts on the couch as you sit down beside him, eyes never leaving the television.

You haven't seen him in three months; for the first time since he'd started gracing your presence when he was home you'd gotten a field call from him - a quick midnight call just long enough for one "'m alright" before you were joined by static from the other line.

You can feel him staring at you from the corner of his eye, a move so uniquely Simon that it used to unnerve you.

"Your toes are painted."

It's a question disguised as a statement. Who were you out with?

"They are."

You can feel it: the two of you balancing on some precipice. You lean away from him, feet propped up on the coffee table, head against the back of the couch. You feel him shift, the cushions underneath you shifting; something soft lands on your lap. You know by the weight of it what it is. You refuse to look at him, refuse to open your eyes to see the way his are boring holes into yours.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why would I need to tell you?"

"Was it mine?"

"Why does it matter?"

Your couch groans under his weight; you know that he's drawn up to his full height without having to look at him. Finally you open your eyes, the folder from the hospital lies on your lap. The only sheet of paper you had ever taken out of it after you discharge is folded up on the top of it: How To Deal With Loss: Resources for Parents.

"What do you mean: why does it matter?" Simon's voice grows, fills the small apartment. For the first time, you feel a shred of shame for not saying anything to him. You'd hoped that he'd give you a heads up the next time he decided to swing by, enough time to hide the folder in your dresser. You know the argument is coming - you can see it in the way he's standing, you can hear it in the way his accent grows thicker. You push yourself into a standing position opposite of him, the folder dropping to the floor and spilling its contents. You don't want to fight with him, but you will.

"Yes, Simon. Why does it matter?"

For the first time you make eye contact with him; not for the first time are you struck still by him. His collar hangs loose, stretched out - there's just a peek of black tattoo from his shoulder. You can't see his expression - can't try to steel yourself or prepare for what he's going to throw at you, what vitriol is about to spill from him.

"It matters if it was mine."

You want to collapse, want to stomp your foot on the ground at his statement. Of course it was yours! You want to scream it at him, hurl the words at him until they wear him down, but when you speak it's in barely a whisper - just enough voice to carry over the television.

"It wouldn't have been anyone else's."

The dam breaks then; his shoulders drop a quarter of an inch and he's yelling, and you're yelling - you know your neighbors are going to hear, but you don't care.

"What was I supposed to tell you Simon? That you fucked me without a condom and I got pregnant?"

"Yes!"

His hands are gripping the arm of your couch, the fabric pulled taunt beneath them. You don't think, just yell.

"How? I see you a handful of times throughout the year-"

"You have a number to call me-"

"- I lost it before I would have even got a chance to tell you-"

"- it's like you don't even care!"

You can't speak, no way to verbalize the words inside of you. So you leave him in the living room as you disappear into your bedroom before emerging with a small battered cardboard box. You shove it into Simon's chest, with the most force you can muster up.

"Open it up." Your voice is wild, a monsoon hidden just beneath. You shove it again into Simon's chest, forcing him to take it from you.

"Open it."

His hands are steady, years of work with the military hardening him. He stares into the box before dropping back onto the couch, cradling the box to his chest.

"What is this?"

You don't move from your spot - you don't want to see inside the box; you haven't looked at it since you shoved it into the back of your closet.

Simon reaches into the box, hands pulling out a small black onesie, a white skull on the front. His hands shake almost imperceptibly as he drops it gently back into the box.

"The doctor said-" your voice cracks, you turn away from Simon - your eyes fixed on the wall - before starting to speak again. "The doctor said it's not that uncommon when you're as early along as I was. I didn't…I didn't say anything to you because I didn't want to be a burden to you out in the field."

"You wouldn't be-"

You don't let him speak, you don't want to hear it, don't want to hear any sincerity.

"I'm not your wife Si. I'm not even your girlfriend. I didn't even know what I would have said. God forbid you'd been doing something dangerous, and I called you to tell you what happened and distracted you."

You hear the box get sat down on the table, and in a moment his hands are on your shoulders, gently pressing until you turn around. He keeps you at arms length, his palms warm through your shirt.

"We could have got married - fuck - we can get married tomorrow. We can be there as soon as the courthouse opens, Johnny'll witness for us.."

You try to shrug him off, but his hands are firm on your shoulders.

"You're only saying that Si."

"I'm not."

You can tell that he's telling the truth - if you told him to meet you at the courthouse tomorrow, he'd be there. His calloused fingers trace across your cheeks, brushing away the tears that had started to fall. He drops to his knees, arms wrapping around your waist, forehead resting on your chest. Your arms reach up instinctively to wrap around him, burying your face in the hood of his jacket.

The two of you linger there, hands tangled in each other before collapsing onto the couch, your face buried in Simon's chest. From the corner of your eye, you can see Simon's hands outstretched towards the box once before pulling away.

#my fics #ghost cod x you #simon ghost riley #ghost cod x reader #ghost cod

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