#guys I love this gun belt so much

[arthursfuckinghat]

Arthur Morgan 𑁦𐂂𑁦 The Saints Hotel

[writingsonsaturn]

Tim having a younger girlfriend who gets princess treatment from him, she very obviously in love with Tim, and nobody at the station believes he has a girlfriend, so one day she shows up and work and everyone gets to see and meet her and see just how much she has Tim wrapped around her finger <3

Sorry if it doesn't make sense

puppy love - tim bradford

{ masterlist }

🪐: hopefully this lives up to what you were thinking!! i did my best to capture all the main elements that you wanted in the story <33

word count: 1039

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Tim was notorious for being a hardass, his rough demeanor and strict ways of teaching made him seem like a total douchebag, for lack of a better word.

However, for you, he was a ball of sunshine, just don't let anyone else know that. 

Tim was awoken to the deafening sound of his alarm clock, he looked over at the red numbers, the clock reading “6:00am”, he sighed and reached a hand over to turn the blaring sound off. He turned over at the movement of your sleeping body, his hand now brushing through your hair with a small smile on his lips, waking up wasn't so bad when he got to see your face every morning.

You woke up gently at the new warmth that was on your head, “do you have to leave today?” you whispered with annoyance, one eye looking at him while the other stayed shut hoping to retain some sleep “unfortunately i do, baby, but i'll be home in time for our date” he responds, leaning over and kissing your forehead. 

He gets out of bed and heads for the closet putting on his uniform, once he’s done getting ready he reaches for his duty belt and gun that he keeps in his nightstand. Finally he leans over to give you one last kiss goodbye, “i love you, i’ll text you on break” you felt his lips move, “i love you too, be safe and come home to me” you respond as he walks out of the room gently shutting the door.

You shortly go back to sleep to get extra shuteye before having to go to your 9:00 am psychology class.

===

Tim made it to work early, going into the locker room and putting his duffle bag full of extra clothes and little snacks that you had snuck in there “just in case”, once he left the locker room he made his way to the debriefing room. “Hey Tim, you still owe me the 13 bucks for that burrito i bought you last week” Angela points out, while walking in behind him “ah right” he groans pulling out his wallet simply forgetting the little photo he kept of you in there.

The photo fell on the ground as Tim pulled out the cash, Angela reached down holding the picture “who is that?” she wonders while looking at the piece of paper “my girlfriend” he responds while holding out the $13, “you? You have a girlfriend?” she jokes “yeah, and i'm a millionaire” she finished sarcastically and walked away to sit down in her seat.

Tim just silently rolled his eyes and put your photo back in the safety of his wallet, after Grey gave his briefing, Angela and Nyla both started talking about Tim’s “girlfriend” the others overheard and suddenly everyone knew about Tim’s private life. 

“Tim has a girlfriend?” Lucy questioned, while walking over the group and grinning. “That’s what he claims, when he was paying me back a photo slipped out of his wallet and when i asked who it was he said it was his girlfriend, but i don't know who would torture themselves like that” she explained, Nolan had his eyebrows raised “come on guys, Tim can’t be that bad” Nolan continued “he probably just doesn't like us” he smiled making the others laugh. 

“Okay! Are you guys ready to stop being a bunch of highschoolers and gossiping about my love life so we can, I don't know, do our job?” Tim dead panned, they all quietly snickered, and some started getting ready to head out.

Tim heard the faint call of his name, and fast feet, “Tim! you forgot your lunch!” you spoke quickly while softly jogging towards him. “That’s what i forgot, thank you baby” Tim mentally smacked himself for forgetting the meal you had prepared for him the night before. You smiled at him, rushing as you had to get back to the campus as you had a final in 45 minutes.

Everyone looked slightly gobsmacked, realizing that Tim was in fact not lying about having a girlfriend, Angela came up to the love sick couple, “so you’re the pretty lady Tim keeps in his wallet” she spoke with playfulness, “you must be Angela! Tim talks about you all the time, im (Y/N)” you introduced yourself with a big smile. Tim smiled at you with all the love in the world, looking at you while you introduced yourself to his friends and colleagues. 

“As much as i would absolutely love talking to you guys more, i have a really important test i have to go take” you explained with haste, everyone was extremely understanding and wished you good lucks, “One last thing, Tim, before you come home will you please pick up milk from the store? I used it all this morning” everyone looked at Tim awaiting his response “Yes ma’am” he complied, you kissed his cheek and gave everyone a last goodbye before leaving.

“Man she has you utterly whipped” Aaron spoke, while shaking his head, “yeah, you are so done for sir” Celina giggled. Tim looked at both of them with a stern face immediately making them shut up and get back to doing whatever they were doing. 

“I'm glad you found someone Tim, you deserve a good person” Lucy quietly mentioned, Tim gave a silent nod of acknowledgement letting Lucy know that what she said meant a lot to him as she left and continued on with her duties.

Tim carried on with his day, doing paperwork, and counting the minutes until he came home to you.

Once he got off of work, he made sure he picked up milk and even got you you're favorite snack, as soon as he got home you two made dinner together and sat at the kitchen table, you told him how you’re very sure you passed your final with flying colors, and he told you about the mountains of paperwork that made him wish he was in bed watching a stupid reality show with you instead. 

When it was time for bed you and Tim continued to talk about random thoughts, and your futures together before you both drifted into a peaceful sleep.

[cap-winter-barnes]

Kiss Me Lieutenant (Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader)

It's not often that you find yourself out drinking with friends on a Thursday night, but your week at work has been a stressful one. One angry customer after another has you in need of a drink, or a few. After convincing your friends that a night on the town is what you need, you find yourself three drinks deep at The Hard Deck.

You're not a stranger to the company of Top Gun personnel during your evenings of socialising, but tonight you're only interested in drowning your sour mood with alcohol. Forget the men who always vie for your attention tonight, they're never successful in their attempts anyway.

Nursing a cocktail, you stand with a hip leaning into the bar, deep in conversation with your girlfriends. The topic of work off limits. Yet you can't help but keep diverting your eyes to that of the handsome Lieutenant across the room. Everything about his exudes masculinity and you can't help but be drawn to not only the gorgeous smile on his face, but how nicely fitting his uniform is on his body. God, you're such a perv when you've had a drink or two.

"Earth to Y/N!" You're snapped out of your ogling by the voice of your best friend finally reaching your eyes. "My God, just go and talk to the guy!" All of you chuckle before you down the last dregs of your drink.

"Fine, I just might." They both protest, trying to stop you in your tracks, albeit futile, as you make a beeline for the one and only, Jake Seresin. In his peripheral, Jake spots you making your way over to him, pool cue in hand, he stands up straight, a cocky smirk on his face.

"And what do I owe the pleasure, ma'am?"

"Kiss me, Lieutenant!"

Without a seconds thought, Jake welcomes you into his body as you press your lips to his. Your hands snaking around his neck and pulling him closer. The hand holding the pool cue quickly passes it onto one of his squad mates before finding purchase in your hair. You moan into his mouth, teeth knocking together as you breath him in. You can hear cheering from surrounding patrons, some even clapping at your public display.

"Let me take you home." The words leave his lips with a groan as you nip at his bottom lip, your nails grazing the nape of his nape before trailing through his sun-kissed hair again. "Let me show you how much I've missed you darlin." With one last forceful kiss, you both pull apart for air. The flush on his cheeks bringing a bigger smile to your already beaming face.

You take a glance down to the dog tag that hangs around his neck, and with a raise of your eyebrows you loop your finger around the chain and pull him closer towards you.

"Are you married Lieutenant?" The gold wedding band that sits proud against his dog tags glistens in the light. A scoff leaves Jake's throat as he tucks his thumbs through your belt loops, your hips flush against his own, the feeling of his arousal sending another wave of want through your own body. "Why, yes Mrs Seresin, I am."

"Well she's a lucky girl to get to take you home, sir."

"No, I'm the lucky one darlin'."

Like a teenager, you giggle at your husband, pulling him in for another kiss before he takes your hand and swiftly leads you towards the exit of The Hard Deck, a majority of the crowd cheering and clapping in your wake. Even Penny rings the bell as she watches you leave, shaking her head in disbelief. She's never seen two people so in love.

Buy Me A Coffee

[rafesangelita]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 ART DECO

PAIRING: toxic!rafe x fem!kook!reader

SUMMARY: ❝you’re so art deco, out on the floor. shining like gun metal, cold and unsure.❞ — your attempt to cut things off with rafe only fuels him to come back with a vengeance.

WARNINGS: friends w benefits, rafe is terrible, jealousy, manipulation, arguing at a party, topper kisses you, fighting, rafe ‘breaking’ in your house

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

LINKS: series masterlist | next chapter

“i have to get going.” you were still going through the aftershocks of your orgasm when rafe started pulling his clothes back on. even though this wasn’t anything new, it didn’t make you feel any better. you watched him, sitting up with the sheets covering your chest. “see you tonight?” he was looping his belt when he sighed. “we’ll see.” he shrugged, not sparing you another glance before leaving altogether.

your friends would be so disappointed in you right now if you told them that you allowed yourself to go through this again. “you’re so stupid!” you muttered to yourself, quickly making your way to a shower, wanting nothing more than to wash the feeling of him off. you knew rafe would never take you serious, but you liked him so much that if having a no strings attached arrangement was the only way you could have him, you were willing to do just that. you wouldn’t let yourself cry over him, but you did go through the motions each time.

you’d swear you would tell him you didn’t want to do this anymore, but the second he was in your ear, whispering to you all the ways he wanted to take you, you never failed to bend at his will, quite literally. tomorrow would be the first day of spring break, so in your best friend’s fashion, it was only right to throw a complete rager with open invitation. you spent the remainder of your evening getting ready before chloe texted you that she was outside.

“you look insane?! are you serious?” chloe’s jaw hung open as you walked to her car. “this isn’t the y/n i know. what did you do with her?!” you laughed, giving your friend a spin. you were wearing a lacey black see through dress, and a matching black set underneath. “good girl is staying in tonight.” you posed as chloe snapped a picture of you. “you look so hot, i love it.” she ushered you into the passenger seat, both of you riding back to her place. “fuck, it’s this packed already?” you got off, the heel of your boots clicking against the cement of her driveway. “just wait till you see inside.” she warned.

sure enough, you were greeted with the sight of at least a hundred people in the living room alone. chloe took your arm with hers, weaving through the crowd of people. you met with some more friends, everyone ogling your outfit since it was a drastic change from what you’d usually wear. “don’t let rafe see you in this.” at the mention of his name, you felt your stomach drop as you looked around towards the kitchen. “has anyone seen him? he’s the last person i want to run into right now.” you accepted the drink one of your friends came back with.

“oh, you don’t have to worry about that, he’s been pretty occupied out on the balcony.” hannah raised her eyebrows, the girls looking at you for your reaction. “occupied?” you took a sip from the red solo cup in your hand. even though you didn’t want to see him, you didn’t want him with anyone else either. “topper and kelce are betting a whole bunch of money on a card game, apparently rafe is too.. just with a random sitting on his lap while he does it.” you licked your lips, nodding your head slowly as chloe watched you carefully.

“that’s cute.” without wasting another second, you started walking upstairs, your friends trailing behind you. chloe’s balcony was connected to the master bedroom, the double doors wide open for anyone to come in and out of. your eyes fell on rafe, the blonde draped across his lap was no one you’ve ever seen before. she was most defintely a touron. you walked outside, the guys so into their game that no one looked up from their cards. “hey.” you smiled sweetly at the girl across from you as you did the last thing you thought you’d do tonight, and sat on topper’s lap.

“well you look really good.” you hit his shoulder playfully, meeting rafe’s heated gaze when he did a double take. “aw, thank you ‘top. you wouldn’t mind if i sat here, would you?” you trailed your fingertips across his chest, a teasing smile gracing your lips as you watched how nervous you made him. “o-of course not, maybe you could be my lucky charm.” he showed you his cards, the giant stack of cash in the middle of the table catching your eye. “who’s winning right now?” even though you asked topper directly, rafe answered. “i am.” your head shot in his direction, his hand running up and down the girls thigh.

“i’m sorry, i’ve never seen you around here, like ever,” you laughed, “do you have a name?” the girl looked embarrassed as you gave her a once over, her body visibly tensing the longer you stared at her. “i’m just going to go get another drink.” she got up, leaving rafe by himself as he shot daggers at you. diverting your gaze back to topper’s cards, you whispered in his ear to put down the ace. “that’s the winning card.” you reassured him, moving your hips slightly as you put the card down yourself, rafe following suit. “whoever has the highest gets the green, baby,” kelce leaned forward as you and rafe flipped your cards over. “fuck yeah!” topper shot up from the couch, holding you against him as you cheered.

“five thousand dollars, all yours ‘top.” kelce’s smile dropped as he glanced over at rafe. “let’s go!” before you could pull away, completing your mission to piss rafe off, topper grabbed a handful of your ass before kissing you roughly. “oh, fuck no,” rafe grabbed topper by his shirt, pushing you out of the way as he landed a punch square in his mouth. you sat there dumbfounded as kelce rushed to break them apart. “i don’t give a fuck about a few thousand dollars, keep your hands to yourself or i’ll fucking kill you.” before you could get up, rafe dragged you away by your arm. “leave her alone!” chloe shoved rafe, who didn’t even budge before taking you outside to the front.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he backed you up against one of the cars, his arms caging you in. “you trying to fuck my friends now, is that it?” you turned your head away from where he was grabbing your chin. “don’t touch me.” you swatted his hand away. “sitting on topper’s lap? what’s your fucking problem?” his knees dug into your thighs, your last band of resistance snapping. “you’re my fucking problem!” you pushed his chest, causing him to stumble back a few steps.

“you tell me that you don’t want a relationship, but then freak out like this? meanwhile you’re still going around doing whoever you want? i hate this, rafe! you don’t even look at me afterwards, how do you think that makes me feel?” he stared at you, his jaw ticking as you kept the tears from falling down your face. “this isn’t about you not being able to commit to someone, this is about you keeping me to yourself and having me around only when it benefits you. i’m done.” you didn’t allow him to respond, chloe jogging up to you just in time.

“you okay?” she pushed your hair out of your face. “can you just take me home please?” your best friend didn’t hesitate, walking you down the driveway before yelling; “get the fuck off of my property, asshole!” making you laugh softly. “fuck him. don’t let him have access to you anymore until he proves to you that he can take you serious. you deserve a million times better than that.” once the car door shut, you let the water works loose. after reassuring chloe that you’ll be okay by yourself, she finally let you off the car, not driving off until she watched you go inside.

your phone started chiming with new messages, all of them from rafe.

[10:47 PM] rafe <3: can we please talk about this?

[10:47 PM] rafe <3: that touron came onto me first, alright? you could ask topper.

[10:48 PM] rafe <3: actually, don’t talk to topper at all.

[10:48 PM] rafe <3: y/n i know i fucked up alright, please call me. or at least let me go over, let me make this up to you, let me make you feel good..

you scoffed at the last message. that’s all you were to him, a good fuck. nothing more, nothing less. you blocked his number, deciding to call it a night. you would have to be joining your parents tomorrow for the country club’s annual luncheon, which you were sure rafe would be at as well. you spent the rest of the night regretting your decision to get rafe riled up, topper kissed you for crying out loud. you made a vow to yourself, swearing you’d never do anything outlandish to get anyone’s attention, especially rafe’s.

“you ignoring me now?” you sucked in a breath, not daring to turn around and face the one man you couldn’t handle to see at the moment. “leave me alone, rafe. seriously.” you walked faster, hoping to reach the main dining room before he yanked you back. “blocking my number and my instagram? i didn’t think you had it in you.” you scoffed, looking up at him as he smiled, shaking his head. “didn’t think i had it in me?” you arched a brow, prying his grip off of your arm.

“come on, y/n,” he looked around, placing a hand on your hip, “we both know no contact isn’t going to work. i’ll show up at your house if i have to.” you didn’t doubt his words for one second, but the fact that he felt this comfortable dismissing your feelings was enough for you to realize what you had to do; tear down his ego. “and why wouldn’t it work? because you wouldn’t have anyone to run to when your daddy makes you cry?” rafe visibly recoiled, his hand moving as if touching you burned him.

“what the fuck did you just say?” his eyes narrowing down at you. “you heard me. it seems like you forgot we were best friends before we started having sex,” you laughed bitterly, “what happened? lost respect for me or something?” not being able to be in his presence for one more second, you left and met your parents at their table. for the rest of the luncheon, you could feel rafe’s gaze piercing through your skin. you knew you struck a chord, but it was all true.

“me and your father will be going to the mainland for the next few days for business, will you be joining us?” your mother’s voice snapped you out of your reverie. “chloe’s only here for a week before she goes back to uni so i’m gonna stay.” she nodded. “alright, i’ll have the driver take you home then, and sweetie,” she leaned in close, “you might want to see what that cameron boy wants, he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since you sat down.” you glanced up, your stomach dropping at the sight of him. “it’s complicated.” you whispered, you and your mother getting up to leave.

the ride back was quick, your parents letting you know they’ll call you when they get off the ferry. you were about to walk inside before you noticed the door cracked open. what the hell? you turned around to see if your parents were still there, but the car was already gone. you tried to brush it off, going in cautiously. it was still early in the day, the sun still shining brightly overhead. you made your way to the security system, your eyebrows knitting in confusion when you saw it had already been reset. “that’s impossible..” you whispered, jumping when you heard a clash come from upstairs.

you stood frozen, debating if you should run out or go check for yourself. the last thing you wanted to do was call the cops and it wasn’t anything to worry about. you cursed to yourself, slowly making your way upstairs. “is someone there?” you called out, opening the room doors and looking them over. obviously you expected no one to answer, but you still felt relieved when you saw that nothing was out of place. that was until you got to your room, where one side of your bed looked like someone had been laying in it.

you ran your hand over the sheets, the soft material still warm. “i told you i was gonna show up to your house if i had to.” your head shot up to your bathroom, rafe leaning against the doorframe. “what are you doing?” your heart was beating in your ears, his gaze making you feel powerless in this situation. “i’ve been a dick to you, i’ll admit that. i’ll apologize for that. i’m sorry, y/n, i really am,” he started moving towards you, “and you know what? you’re right. it is about me wanting to keep you to myself.” rafe a took a seat in front of you. “i want to work on this. i want us to work together, we could really make this a good thing.” you didn’t know you were crying until rafe wiped the tear from your eye.

“you’re lying to me.” you shook your head, pushing his hand away. a flash of hurt passed over rafe’s face. “i wouldn’t lie to you about this. i’m not as cold and unsure as you think i am.” his hands rested on your thighs. “i can’t even put into words how bad i wanted to hurt topper last night when i saw you sitting on him, and when he grabbed you and kissed you? i wouldn’t have stopped punching him if kelce didn’t get in the middle.” you listened, eventually relaxing under his touch. “i will do everything i have to do to prove to you i’m serious about this. about us.” he started moving closer, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“what do you say, baby?” you swallowed, sitting in thought for a moment. this was all you ever wanted from rafe. the sincerity, the reciprocation. “you promise?” your voice was shaky, his eyes softening as he pulled you against his chest. “you have my fucking word.” he whispered against your skin, his hand running up and down your back. you smiled, pressing a kiss to his adam’s apple. slowly, he brought his hands up to your shoulders, his fingers running through your hair before you felt him gripping your neck. “as much as i want to take you slow, i have to punish you for saying what you did at the countryclub.” your eyes fluttered shut as rafe laid you down, his knee wedging itself between your thighs.

“say it again.” his hand was still wrapped around your neck as you looked up at him with tear clad eyes. “rafe..” he smiled, the action that usually has your heart melting, now had a shiver running down your spine. “say it.” rafe said through gritted teeth. you shuddered, ultimately giving in. “i told you, you wouldn’t have anyone to run off to if your dad made you cry again,” saying it to him after you resolved things just felt cruel now. “and that was very insensitive of me, i’m sorry.” rafe shushed you. “it’s alright.. ‘cause i’m gonna make you regret opening your mouth at all.”

[suzukiblu]

Excerpt from an in-progress DP x DC soulmate AU starring Jazz Fenton, a very unfortunate mugger, and a smoothie. Oh, and I guess Jason is there too.

Jazz meets her soulmate in, of all places, Park Row. Or as the locals call it, Crime Alley.

Seems about right for her life, she decides as she kicks the shit out of the guy who was trying to stab him for his wallet fifteen seconds ago. Her soulmate watches her curiously, seeming unconcerned by the fuss, and takes a sip of his smoothie.

Also seems about right, for her soulmate. A guy who got too nervous when necessary violence happened was not going to survive Thanksgiving in Amity Park, much less Christmas.

Well, it is Gotham.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi, sorry, one sec," Jazz says, then leans over the groaning mugger and offers him a card to the best local crisis center she's managed to track down via research and word of mouth in the four months she's been in Gotham. Not her card, obviously, since she just roundhouse-kicked the guy in the head to protect her soulmate from him and that's arguably a conflict of interest. Or close enough, anyway. "So you should check these guys out, they've got a very high success rate in their job program and there's an associated food bank and rent assistance, if you qualify."

"What?" the mugger says dazedly.

"Also if you ever touch my soulmate again I'll make you wish for the cold mercy of the Infinite Realms," Jazz adds pleasantly. The guy goes very, very pale. Then he snatches the card from her and runs for his life and eternal soul.

"This is the nicest thing the universe has ever done to me," her soulmate muses, taking another sip of his smoothie.

"Getting you mugged?" Jazz asks wryly, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Are you religious? Do you want kids?" her soulmate asks. "Also, who's your favorite Bat?"

"Robin, obviously," Jazz says. "The overdramatic and feral little stabby one, I mean. He reminds me of my little brother. Makes me feel a little bit maternal, to be honest. So that answers two out of three, and as far as religion goes, I only believe in Psychology Today, highly customized guns, and my mom's ninth-degree black belt."

"This better not awaken anything in me," her soulmate mutters under his breath.

"That seems unlikely, or we wouldn't be soulmates," Jazz says.

"Point," he says, sipping his smoothie again. Jazz didn't even know anywhere in Crime Alley sold smoothies, but she is new around here. "Wanna go break my bed? Or maybe go get coffee?"

"You've already got a smoothie," Jazz says.

"So I do," he says.

Jazz looks him over. He's her soulmate, so she's not surprised to find him gorgeous. She wasn't ever expecting a familial soulmate–Danny is a very intense sibling to have, and her parents are very intense parents to have, not to mention everything about Dani, and "soulcousins" aren't typically a thing–and she's never been especially interested in keeping around too many close friends, so considering all that, she was already expecting her soulmate to be a romantic one. If they are platonic, it's definitely only going to be because her soulmate is an aromantic asexual. Which he probably isn't, since he already asked about kids and religion and if she wanted to go break his bed.

Then again, she's met people who'll posture worse than that. Especially guys, and especially ace ones with a clear investment in their masculinity, and given this particular guy is built like a brick house could only dream to be, chances are he has some feelings about his masculinity. Though he's also drinking a visibly pink smoothie, not a neutral-colored protein shake or generic black coffee, so . . . fifty-fifty there, maybe?

Further inquiry will probably be required.

"I'm Jazz," she tells him. "What's your name?"

"Robin," he says. Then he–pauses. Blinks. "I mean–Robin."

He looks very confused for a second, and Jazz blinks too, and refocuses her eyes a bit. Oh, is he–

"Are you overshadowing that guy?" she assumes. For the love of–of course her soulmate would be a ghost, she thinks dryly. Who'd want a soulmate their mom and dad wouldn't want to grill for information and ask a thousand invasive questions, after all? "I mean, he's really hot, don't get me wrong, he looks good on you, but I'd rather meet you for real."

"'Overshadowing'?" Robin looks bemused.

"I'm Danny's sister," Jazz clarifies. Robin does not look less bemused. "You know, the new king?"

"What?" Robin says. Jazz frowns a little, feeling a bit bemused herself.

"Do you not get out much?" she asks.

"Never, actually, but also yes and constantly and way too often," Robin says. "My job is kind of demanding that way."

"What's your job?" Jazz asks curiously. Ghosts' jobs are always interesting, even if only for how they interact and manifest with their Obsessions. She wonders what his Obsession is, actually, because smoothies seem like an unlikely option but she doesn't have much else to go on here.

Can't be weirder than Box Ghost, either way.

"I'm a Bat," Robin says, then looks absolutely alarmed and also absolutely horrified.

"Huh," Jazz says, tilting her head. He seems really big to be one of the Robins, and a little too old besides. A year or two younger than her, maybe, and even the older Robin she's pretty sure is at best Danny's age. Though that's assuming this body is the one he fights crime in, admittedly. Although it's kinda funny if one of the Bats is just named Robin. Must get annoying on patrol, though. "I didn't know any of you were dead, but I guess that's not actually a surprise either, given the profession."

"Why did I say that to you?" Robin asks tightly.

"I told you, I'm the new king's sister," Jazz says. "You know, it's the royal family thing. Technically I'm his regent, legally speaking, but only because I'm better at paperwork and he doesn't count as a legal adult in the Infinite Realms yet. Hasn't been dead long enough, you know how it is. But I've been alive long enough to, apparently? But his 'being alive' technically stopped tracking at fourteen. It's complicated, basically."

"What the fuck does that mean?!" Robin demands.

"It means you can't lie to me because you're one of my brother's subjects," Jazz says, really not understanding his reaction. Every ghost knows this, after all. The only ones who wouldn't know it are too young to be away from their guardians' haunts or even leave the Infinite Realms at all. Definitely a ghost who knows how to overshadow someone this thoroughly and fully is old enough and experienced enough to know it, though. "Whose body is that, anyway?"

"It's my father's," Robin says. Jazz's eyes widen a little and she has several very concerned internal reactions before he chokes and sputters–"I mean–it's not–he's not–!"

"You realize there is no healthy way to mean that, right?" Jazz says. Robin looks frustrated and freaked out and she feels bad about it, because she didn't mean or want to upset him, but she clearly has. "Sorry. I mean, I still secretly feel like I'm the one parenting my parents half the time, you're not the only one with weird feelings about yours."

"I'm his," Robin says, then grits his teeth in visible pain. He's this close to crushing the smoothie cup he's holding but hasn't actually done it. Jazz wonders if that's an example of deliberate self-control or subconscious restraint.

She's pretty sure Robin didn't mean to say that, though.

"Are you okay?" she asks, a little concerned. Normally ghosts just stop talking about things they want to lie about, when they realize who she is.

"No," Robin says. "I'm just his. I've always been his, I always will be, his good soldier, his worst mistake, not his actual fucking son, why am I telling you this?!"

"I don't know," Jazz says, frowning in increased concern. "Usually people can work around the inability to lie a little bit, but you sound like you're being compelled to speak. Increasingly like, actually. Hm. What's your Obsession? And what kind of core do you have?"

"What?" he says.

"They might be making you unstable, is all," Jazz says. "I don't think it'd be a soulmate thing but to be fair I don't really know how that works. Are you dead, or are you a manifestation of something?"

"I'm dead," Robin says, staring at her. "That bastard clown beat my head in with a crowbar and blew up what was left of me. I woke up in my grave and–I–how did you know that?"

"Well, I didn't, that's why I asked," Jazz says reasonably, idly wondering why the Joker isn't dead yet, since this is Gotham and obviously it wouldn't be another "bastard clown" Robin was referencing, even if he wasn't a Bat. But like, at least dead via the court system, if nothing else. The Joker is insane, yes, but no one can argue he doesn't know right from wrong at this point. Does New Jersey just not have the death penalty, maybe? She hasn't thought to check. "Maybe it's the guy you're in? He's not drunk or high or anything, is he?"

"I hate drugs," Robin says, gritting his teeth again; tightening his grip on the smoothie again. He's trembling, just barely. "I hate them. I'd never touch them. I don't know what you are. You're scaring me. Please stop."

He definitely didn't mean to say that, Jazz can tell.

But . . . he doesn't know what she is.

He doesn't know.

Well, that's a problem.

"Robin," she says gently, and for some reason his face twists painfully at the sound of his own name. "Can I see your core? Please?"

[hihomeghere]

Could you do prompt 30 & 50 for Arthur, please and thank you ^_^!

Hope you enjoy! Word count : 1.7k Prompts : #30 I just want to be yours. #50 We need to talk about last night Warnings/tags : unprotected piv, cursing, talk of sex workers in the time period, friends with benefits

The agreement you had with Arthur was pretty straightforward. You were close friends, friends who also knew each other more intimately than friends should. Your agreement had begun after a rough job the two of you had gone on. Both full of adrenaline and anger after almost everything had gone wrong. Breathing hard, hiding from the law in a tiny cabin, tension was high.

It’s not like you hadn’t noticed him in that way before. He was a conventionally attractive man. Tall, muscular, ruggedly good looks.

And you both needed some relief, and you certainly weren’t complaining. As much as he put off a tough guy facade, he was nothing but caring. Making sure you reached your peak multiple times before he did.

You knew you worked well together in the field, you didn’t know it would transfer so gracefully to the bedroom. Reading each other's minds and body. The small twitch of his lip when you pressed your nails into his biceps. The way his brows knit together when you tugged at his honey brown locks. The primal groan that ripped through his chest when you locked your legs around his hips.

It worked. The two of you always worked well together.

-

“Hey.” His hoarse voice pulled you out of your daze, setting the gun you were cleaning next to you.

“Yeah?” You asked, laying down your rag on your pistol. He shuffled from one foot to the other, his hand gripping his gun belt. His hat tipped low on his brow. “Need me?” You asked, leaning back on the crate you were sitting on. The sun beating down on the both of you, though his brim shaded the upper half of his face. For having this arrangement for so long, it surprised you how shy he was when he would ask.

“Need ya.” He nodded, holding his hand out for you to take. As much as you tried to deny it, your heart skipped a beat at the thought that he needed you. You, no one else. Even if it was only to scratch an itch.

You took his hand, letting him lead you into the trees. His heavy steps paved a way through the brush near camp. You had to admit you were giddy, a smile spreading across your face as he led you further away from the noise of camp. Following him anywhere he took you like a lovesick pup. As much as you tried to deny it, you were falling for him.

It was wrong, so wrong. You were breaking the first rule, no attachments. But Jesus, how could you not fall for him?

You accidentally walked straight into his broad back, not having noticed him stopping.

“Eager?” He chuckled softly, smirking at you over his shoulder. You scoffed, your cheeks heating up.

“You’re the one who asked.” You hummed, trying to hide your growing embarrassment.

“Yeah yeah, alright.” He mumbled rolling his eyes playfully as his large hands found purchase on your waist. He walked you backwards until your back rubbed against the bark of a tree. Successfully pinning you between him and the birch. His knee immediately nudged its way up between your thighs. You let out a soft gasp, which he quickly swallowed as his mouth covered yours. He pressed his knee up against you, grinding against the most sensitive part of you. You couldn’t help but moan softly into his mouth, electricity shooting through your veins as he rubbed against you. He made quick work of his gun belt, dropping it to the grassy floor. Your hands threaded through his hair, something you had learned he loved, giving it a small tug.

He groaned into your mouth, which gave you the perfect opportunity to slip your tongue inside.

It wasn’t some sweet embrace, it was the clashing of tongue and teeth as he rocked you back and forth on his knee. Electricity shooting through your body as he bumped against your clit.

“Shit- c’mon Arthur.” You moaned feeling wetness gather in your bloomers. He moved down your jaw, leaving open mouthed kisses in his wake. He pulled away, his deft fingers worked on pulling himself out of his pants. While you shimmied out of your bloomers. His calloused hands landed on your waist, turning you around. He flipped up your skirts like you were some common whore, but you didn’t mind one bit. You pressed your backside against him as you leaned against the tree, feeling the hard line of his cock against you.

He spit into his hand, the sound obscene and yet so arousing. You waited, his body nearly engulfed yours as he leaned over you, his hand on your hip. He guided the head of his cock between your folds, pressing into you with a groan.

“Always so damn tight.” He muttered through gritted teeth, pulling you back against his chest. You thought you would get used to being filled by him by now. But every time it felt like you were being stuffed, feeling every ridge and vein of his length as he bottomed out. Giving you a breath or two to get used to his size before pulling nearly all the way out and slamming back into you.

Your mouth fell open as a cry left your lips, Arthur’s hand quick to muffle the sound. Those noises were for him only. It was like he was made for you, you knew that was a dangerous thought to have but you couldn’t help it. The way he rubbed up against those delicious spots inside you so effortlessly. Taking you to the precipice of pleasure as moans fell from you unabashedly.

Like a lightning strike, your orgasm hit you fast and unexpectedly. Holding onto the trunk of the tree as your legs nearly gave out from under you.

“Feel too damn good girl-“ He choked, driving into you with a near bruising pace as your walls fluttered around him.

“Shit-““ he bit down on your shoulder as he quickly pulled out. A low moan leaving his lip as his seed painted your backside. Panting, he pulled your bloomers back up and over your ass, his hand trailing reverently up your shaky legs. You hummed to yourself, basking in the afterglow as he returned the two of you to your prior state. You stood back up, using the tree as leverage as you turned to look back at him.

A beautiful flush had crawled up his neck, that you were just itching to reach out and kiss. But you didn’t, because you didn’t do anything afterwards. You hardly looked at each other afterwards. Like it would break the spell of the arrangement. That you would realize you were toeing the line between friends and something more a little too closely. So instead you leaned up against the tree and watched him buckle his gun belt low on his hips. He strode over to you, his hand finding your hip as he placed a kiss on your forehead before walking back towards camp.

You wouldn’t realize until you were getting ready for bed, that he had slipped a bill into your skirt pocket.

-

You left your tent in a damn near rage the following morning. Shame and disgust mixed inside you as you searched for Arthur. Did he really think he could treat you like some… some working girl? You weren’t selling yourself to him, just like he wasn’t selling himself to you.

The arrangement had worked for so long and he just had to go and ruin it?

You found him near the coffee pot, along with some other gang members.

“Arthur.” You said, your tone cold as you stood next to him.

“Y/n.” He replied, sipping his coffee. You didn’t miss the way Mary Beth side eyed Tilly. Although you couldn’t give two shits who knew you were pissed.

“We need to talk,” you said in a low tone. He raised an eyebrow giving you a questioning look. “About last night.” You huffed. He nodded, tossing the rest of his coffee out onto the grass before motioning for you to lead the way. You walked over to the edge of the trees, his footsteps heavy behind you.

“Well go on, out with it.” He said with a sigh, his hands resting on his belt.

“What the hell is this?” You asked, holding up the five dollar bill, “I ain’t offering you any services.” You hissed stuffing the bill back into his front pocket.

He recoiled, his eyes narrowing as you stuffed the bill into his shirt. “I know that.” He huffed, “I ain’t- I didn’t give it to you as payment.” He said clenching his jaw as he pulled the money out of his pocket.

“Then why the hell did you give it to me? No- why the hell did you hide it in my pocket?” You asked, narrowing your eyes.

He sighed looking down at his feet, “Damn it, Morgan.” He muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “I just- I just keep takin from ya.” He said, running his hand through his hair, “I just wanted to give you somethin’. Somethin’ for puttin up with the likes of me.” He hung his head, clenching his jaw.

“You think I’m just putting up with you?” You scoffed, your frustration at a boiling point, “I don’t want your money, I don’t want anything from you, I just want to be yours!” You cried, feeling hot tears sting your eyes as the damn broke, unable to hold your feelings back.

His head snapped up, his eyes locking onto yours as his mouth fell open.

“W-what?” He asked, his voice hoarse as he stared at you in disbelief.

“I don’t-“ you sighed crossing your arms, “I don’t want anything from you. I just want you.” You said, biting your lip as you stared into his cool blue pools. Arthur was frozen, for a moment it looked like he had stopped breathing. Then his brain finally caught up, he took three steps and pulled you into his arms. One hand on your hip while the other cupped your cheek, pulling you into him as his lips crashed against yours.

You froze, but only for a moment before you reached up, cupping his cheeks as your lips moved against his.

“Darlin,” He whispered, pulling away from you as the biggest grin spread across his face. “You’ve had me for a long time.”

Prompt list

[bellarkeselection]

Halstead’s Favorite Duo

Anonymous request - Can you do a Jay Halstead x reader, where they are married and she is part of the K-9 unit? Maybe they called her in or something to help chase down a suspect.

My boots hit the ground as fast as I could to keep up with my first best friend for I wish I could say my whole life. Yet I have only known this dog since I joined the K-9 unit that works with the Chicago Police Department. My German shepherd dog ran forward on the heels of the man that was running from us. The man we were after was a drug cartel that they had been hunting for months. “Ryder! Attack.” I commanded him before he launched himself through the glass store window.

The guy we were chasing tried to run to the back of the store but he tripped over a shopping cart giving Ryder the opportunity to tackle him to the ground. Stepping over the broken window glass I draw my gun from my belt pointing it at the guy. “Y/n, Ryder! Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine, Jay. Ryder ain’t too bad at his job. Ryder, come here.” I smiled seeing my husband coming around the corner lowering his gun when he saw the situation.

Ryder snarled at the guy on the ground keeping his tail still when we were out in the field. Otherwise he would let it actually wag when he was happy. Jay bent down on a knee after putting his gun away, grabbing the guy off the floor and handcuffing him. “You’re under arrest for smuggling drugs across the border. Take him back to the station.” He handed him off to one of the other local officers.

“You did good, boy.” Dropping down on a knee in front of my dog he started moving his tail wagging it since it was just me and Jay alone with him. “So how much paperwork does this leave you with tonight. I can order take out if you want if you’ll be home later.”

He shakes his head walking back to one of the squad cars having me and Ryder following his heels like we did every morning when we all had to leave the apartment. “Hailey said she would take care of it. I actually had something else in mind.”

“Oh really. Care to share what you had in mind?” I smirked knowing that he wouldn’t give it up even if I asked the question but I did it anyway.

Jay sent me a glare. “It didn’t work on our first date and it still won’t work now.” I nudged him and he chuckled before Ryder barked signaling that he wanted into our conversation.

“That means he doesn’t want to be left out of whatever mystery thing you have planned. And you agreed to take me in every way that includes my doggy.” I responded to him.

Jay and I had gotten married a few years ago. I had just been promoted to chief of my unit. Vioet was the man to help me get it after he had seen my history with Ryder and the amount of cases we helped crack down compared to the other k-9 unit members. Jay opened the door letting my dog jump into the backseat shutting the door once he was in. We both got in the car and removed our bullet proof vests and he started the drive looking my way a few times. “Do you remember the day we met?”

“Of course I do. I got injured on an assignment and the doctors at the hospital your brother Will works at wouldn’t let Ryder inside my room. So he started losing it and breaking things. If it wasn’t for you I was sure Ryder would have bit Will’s leg.” I snorted running a hand down my face thinking back on that night.

Jay smiled, shaking his head. “Yeah but he and I have the same goal to protect you…and love you.”

“So where are we going exactly? I mean it’s kind of strange that you are asking about the day we met. We’re already married. What else could we possibly do?” I shifted in my seat bouncing up and down with the tension of waiting.

Jay didn’t stop the car for another few minutes, parking the car outside of a house that was painted a light blue on the outside and it had a gray roof. He let Ryder out of the backseat first before coming over to my side and helping me out. “The surprise is that this place is now ours.”

“Are you serious, Jay!” I gasped covering my mouth with my hands spinning around to face him since he was standing behind me.

He slipped the keys in my hands. “It’s our. I am not lying to you. I got it all set up a few weeks ago. That way we aren’t cramped in an apartment and this gives Ryder a space to run when he wants to.”

“I love you.” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him slowly.

Ryder barks running towards the front door just as Jay wraps his arms around my waist tugging me closer to deepen the kiss until he breaks it not being able to hold in his chuckle. “I love you too…and Ryder seems to approve.”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[suchawrathfullamb]

No, the flannel and the wolf cut don't make you look like Will Graham. I see a lot of people trying to emulate Will's style or hair but of course it doesn't satisfy them because they're not fully getting what they actually wanted, which is the Will VIBE. So here's a guide, for you, because I love you, and fashion and aesthetics and the codes of physical appearance.

How to Give Will Graham

(oh and do check out my vibe analysis where we go into the spiritual code of Will Graham using astrology and numerology).

Now, I'm sure you didn't aim to give "plaid and kaki" vibes, right? Maybe you did, in that case you can move along. But if not, you were aiming for Will by just copying his clothes, which would never work because he doesn't give plaid and kaki guy, he gives sexy confident motherfucker with a gun who isolates himself because he thinks he's too cool but also because he is a menace and has no patience for people.

In other, better lol, words, he has the codes of disinterested academia. I made that up. But it's accurate.

It's the code of intellectuality but without the academic flair of formality.

Sam Winchester has almost the exact same wardrobe yet the vibes are different (the character arc is the same, interestingly enough), Sam is softer and kinder, and Will is more fuck everybody get out of my sidewalk vibes.

So there's an arrogance to Will. He isn't interested in what most are, he thinks most things are boring. And he's also hiding his true self, which comes out a bit more in Season 2 when he have the Slut Fashion Transition, which is excellent. Translating that to his style, you have outfits that carry a bit of an edge, although concealed to avoid exposure, and lack of attention to detail. So Will would not care to choose patterns because that is too much detail, or belts, or too many layers. His mind is busy with other things, he cannot focus on styling details.

So you can evoke the vibe without copying his exact outfits. As long as it has the elements of a put together but simplistic academic "southern" style. Which is also known as rugged americana.

(post prison inspired)

(twitchy man, season one inspired)

[atinylittlepain]

ok so given that the oscars just happened, imagine a joel x actress!reader. before everything went to shit joel was a normal human being who loved watching movies and like any basic person had a celebrity crush. fast forward and the world has gone to shit and joel and ellie (and maybe tommy too) go on a patrol that goes wrong and get saved by miss “i just smashed a guys head in with my oscar” or something like that, just a fluff and fun imagine that isnt gonna break my heart in a million pieces like last nights episode

oh my god, your mindddddd - I love this idea :)

Big Fan

Joel Miller x actress!reader

Joel Miller masterlist

Joel recognizes her right away. After all, she starred in his favorite movie of all time.

warnings | 18+ a little angst, nothing wild, this is fluff through and through

Read part two!

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

“Are you–”

“I am.”

“You were in–”

“I was.”

“Well I’ll be damned.” 

“Alright, somebody better start speaking in full sentences, because I have no clue what the hell is going on.” Joel huffs, glancing at Ellie who's looking at him like he’s gone crazy, her gun still cocked at the woman in front of them.

“What? You don’t recognize her, kid? I just showed you Curtis and Viper.” Ellie’s brow furrows, but then she looks back at the woman and her eyes finally widen in recognition.

“Holy shit.” The woman laughs, eyes still focused on the barrel of Ellie’s gun.

“That’s not usually the movie people recognize me from. But I suppose it was my big break.” Joel nudges Ellie, muttering for her to put her “damn gun away, jesus christ,” and she quickly tucks it back in her belt.

He’s trying to not be weird right now, they did just kill five clickers together, but he’s finding it hard not to lose his cool over the woman who had been a silly crush of his since he first saw that cheap action movie as a teenager. He knows she did much better films afterward, remembers hovering behind the couch one night while Sarah was watching one of those awards shows, lingering just a bit longer when he saw her giving an acceptance speech with a blinding smile in a dress that probably cost more than his house. She’s certainly less elegant-looking now, but even after twenty years in a world like this, he can’t help the quick kick of his heart at actually meeting this woman in the flesh.

He clears his throat, also trying to clear his mind.

“Are you alone?” She sighs, wiping the blade of her knife on her jeans before sliding it back into its sheath.

“I wasn’t, and then I was. We were headed toward a settlement we heard about, I think a bit further north from here?” Joel keeps his expression steady, but can feel Ellie glancing at him. Movie star or not, he knows they have to be careful about who finds out about Jackson. But apparently, this woman isn’t just pretty, and she seems to pick up on the heavy pause after what she said.

“Do you two know about the place I’m talking about? Are we close?” Joel, sighs, looking at Ellie before making a decision that Tommy is probably going to smack him for later.

“We, um– we’re from there, actually. If you’re talking about where I think you’re talking about.” She huffs out a laugh, and offers them that megawatt smile Joel remembers seeing on his TV screen. Ellie, meanwhile, scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she glares at Joel.

“No shit. Do you think you have room for one more?” Joel’s eyes dart once more to Ellie, just seeing the subtle shake of her head, but he chooses to ignore it. How could he say no to the woman who had, embarrassingly, been one of his first wet dreams?

“You’ll have to talk with my brother, but I’m sure you’ll be welcome to stay on.” Megawatt, megawatt, megawatt. He reckons that smile could melt steel beams.

…

“Joel, what the fuck–”

“Ellie–”

“No, what are you thinking? If not Tommy, Maria’s gonna be so pissed she’ll probably cut your balls off.” He shushes the girl, glancing ahead at the woman hiking further in front of them.

“Look, she’s all alone– hardly a threat– and she’s looking for somewhere to stay–” She scoffs.

“Oh, so this has nothing to do with the way your eyeballs practically popped out of your head just looking at her?” He grumbles, hand tightening around the strap of his rifle.

“You just mind your own business, alright? I’ll take care of it.” Ellie huffs, starting to trudge further ahead of him, but not before muttering out “whatever you say, fanboy.” Joel is stunned still by her words.

“Where the hell did you get that word from?” She turns on her heel, walking backwards for a beat as she smirks at him.

“One of those old magazines. Pretty sure she was on the front page if you wanna borrow it.” Before he can get a word in edgewise, she’s already turning back around and continuing their hike back to Jackson.

…

“Holy shit. Joel, look who it is!” Joel grunts, nudging Tommy out of his starstruck stupor.

“Yeah, I know. Just hiked five miles with her.” Tommy laughs, slapping him on the back before grinning at her.

“It’s real nice to meet you. You know, Joel here had your poster on his bedroom wall–” The nudge he gives his brother this time is a little less friendly, causing Tommy to grumble and rub his arm. She, however, takes it in stride, laughing lightly as she shifts in her boots.

“I’m flattered, really. It’s, um, it’s nice to meet you, Tommy.” Tommy’s eyes go wide.

“I can’t believe you just said my name. This is crazy–”

“Tommy.” Joel cuts his brother off with a hard look before he embarrasses himself anymore. He clears his throat, seeming to get a hold of himself as Joel continues.

“She had been traveling with a group, looking for this place. She’s the only one left though. Was hoping to join the town.” Tommy grins again, glancing between her and Joel.

“Well, I’m sure we can make that happen. I think Joel would kill me if I didn’t let–” He squeezes Tommy’s shoulder hard, willing him to shut his mouth. 

“That little house next to ours is still empty. Why don’t we set her up there?” Tommy’s smile at his brother’s words is all too smug for Joel’s taste, but he still nods, turning his attention back to her.

“If that’s alright with you, ma’am. I’ll let the folks know to turn the gas and electric back on for that place.” She smiles brightly at that.

“That would be amazing. Thank you so much. I owe you all big time.” Tommy snorts.

“I’m pretty sure you can pay Joel back with an autograph, he’d probably cre—“ Joel’s heard enough, resorting to kicking Tommy in the ankle to shut him up. Ellie huffs from where she’s watching their pathetic display.

“Alright, well if you two freaks are done making fools of yourselves, I’ll show her over to that house.” 

…

When Joel gets home, the first thing he does is look at that DVD. He had found it a week or two ago on a patrol shift, left in a hollowed-out RV. Ellie was less than impressed and Maria refused to show it at movie night because it’s so gory, but he held onto it anyways. He can still remember going to see it in the theater with Tommy, both of them too young to get in if not for their friend working the ticket booth. He flips the case over in his hands, and sure enough, there she is on the back cover, looking impossibly beautiful while firing a machine gun. What’s not to like, right?

He’s broken out of his revelry by the sound of the front door opening, and soon enough, Ellie is stomping up the stairs to come looking for him. When she finds him in his bedroom, sitting on the end of his bed, she glances at the DVD he’s holding, a grin spreading over her face.

“Just like you remember, huh, old man?” He grumbles, getting up to set the movie back on the bookshelf before turning back to Ellie.

“She settling in alright?” She hums, nodding lightly.

“Yep, made a beeline for a shower. Told me to thank you. I told her you’d be coming around for your autograph later.” His face crumples in indignation while Ellie lets out a cackle.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But in all seriousness, I think she’s interested– in you– which pains me to even say, but, I figure you deserve to know that the woman of your pubescent dreams was asking questions about you.” Joel’s jaw goes slack, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

“She– she was asking about me?” Ellie nods around a smirk.

“Mmhmm. And I told her you’re a grumpy old bum who doesn’t take kindly to strangers.” He huffs, but she laughs again.

“Sorry, kidding again. I didn’t tell her much. Just that you’ll be around. But if I were you, I’d “be around” sooner rather than later, before the rest of Jackson gets a piece of her. Snatch her up before there’s sweeter bait to bite down on, you know?” He thinks briefly that he needs to see just what sort of magazines this kid is reading, because he can’t quite believe what’s coming out of her mouth. He grumbles, shaking his head at her antics.

“There ain’t gonna be any snatching going on. Just mind your–” She huffs, already walking out of his room.

“Mind my business, yeah, yeah, I know. But think about what I said, old man. Better cast your line quick for this one. My guess is you weren’t the only one who had her poster in your bedroom back before.” 

He’s not letting that kid read magazines anymore.

…

When he steps out on his porch later in the afternoon, fully intent on what Ellie has affectionately started calling his “adult nap time,” he’s interrupted by someone calling his name. He catches sight of her sitting on the porch of the little house next door, waving and smiling at him like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Hey, neighbor.” He tentatively waves back, but that doesn’t seem to satisfy her as she motions for him to join her. He sighs, rather stiffly walking over to her porch and joining her on the bench seat, keeping a very respectable distance between them. Clickers, raiders, general imminent danger, he can handle. Pretty lady? That’s touchy. Pretty lady who he imagined marrying as a teenager? Just put him out of his misery already. He knows it’s ridiculous, that none of that matters now. She’s just as worn and weathered as the rest of them by this crumbled world. But that smile she keeps flashing him might just bring him to his knees.

“I wanted to thank you– for bringing me along. I was, uh, starting to lose hope back there a little bit.” He nods, glancing at her.

“No need for thanks. Just the right thing to do in this world. I’m sorry– about your group. I don’t know what happened, but that couldn’t have been easy being out there on your own.” She shrugs, waving off his sentiment.

“It was barely a group to begin with. Just some folks who happened to get out of the San Francisco QZ together.” His brain is quickly trying to knit together the movie star he remembers from the past and this woman who sits before him now, an obvious edge to her.

“Were you in California? Back when everything…” She nods, her face set in a grim look.

“LA, where else? Now that was a nightmare. I bet the only worse place to be when everything went down was New York. Bodies everywhere. Don’t think I’ll ever forget it.” She lets out a humorless laugh before glancing at him.

“That movie you like so much? I remember when I got the role, I had no idea how I was gonna pull it off. Grizzled heroine with a dark past and a penchant for violence. I was nothing like her. But now, I feel a whole lot more like her and a whole lot less like me.” She sighs, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I dumped that on you.” Joel is quick to shake his head, leaning over his thighs to catch her gaze.

“No, no. I get it– in my own way, I guess. The world changed and– we had to change with it.” That coaxes a crooked smile out of her as she looks at him. A simple silence descends between them as they share quiet smiles. She finally giggles, scrunching her nose at him.

“That girl– Ellie? I think she said something about you wanting an autograph?” Joel can feel the hot blush creeping up his neck as his face goes slack. She just splits out in a laugh, tipping her head back in delight.

“I’m sorry, I’m kidding. But, you know, what I went by, what people still call me, that isn’t my real name.” Joel’s eyebrows quirk up and she sighs, shaking her head.

“Just a stage name. I don’t really mind people calling me that, but can I tell you my real name?” He can feel the smile tugging at his mouth as he nods. Before he knows what she’s doing, she’s taking his hand into her lap, slowly tracing out her name with her finger across his palm. An autograph, of sorts. He’s pretty sure his brain short-circuits, just barely stringing together her name as she finishes. He murmurs it lowly and she offers him her brightest smile yet, still holding his hand lightly in her own.

“And you’re Joel, right?” He’s only a little embarrassed by how quickly he nods.

“Mmhmm. Miller– Joel Miller, yep.” She lets out a breathy laugh, now clasping his hand in a firm shake.

“It’s nice to really meet you, Joel Miller.” 

[physalian]

“Likable” vs “Compelling” Protagonists

Protagonist does not mean “good guy” it means “the person the story is about”.

Antagonist does not mean “bad guy” it means “person in opposition to the protagonist”.

We know this, yes?

So when I’m talking about “likable” protagonists I do not mean that your MC has to be witty, funny, charming, etc—they have to be compelling.

I didn’t much care for Death Note, I thought Light got away with way too much without consequences for his actions, but he was very much the villain and the protagonist. He was an arrogant narcissist with a god complex and you watched the show not to see him win, but to see how badly he would eventually lose.

This was because, despite my dislike of his story, Light was a compelling character. You don’t necessarily agree with his motivations, but you do understand why he does what he does and why he believes what he does about himself and his world.

In contrast, one of my favorite anime is Code Geass. Lelouch (who is often compared to Light) is *constantly* getting kicked in the ass by his own hubris. He's arrogant as well, but he makes mistakes everywhere and suffers if not immediate comeuppance, then drastic consequences later down the line. Which, to me, made a far more compelling character than someone like Light playing with cheat codes.

Most of the time, “likable” and “compelling” go hand in hand, because your protagonist is the “good guy” that we’re supposed to root for.

So one of the worst mistakes I think you can make is writing a hero who just doesn’t want to be here.

—

I recently read a story where MC needed to win a competition, baseline unsponsored underdog story, and everyone loves an underdog. The problem was the MC’s attitude. Nothing pleased them and in their internal monologue, nothing was good enough and everyone else was the problem. They actually hate competitions and can’t wait for this to be over…even though no one forced them into it with a gun to their head. They hate all their competitors for behavior they themself exhibit. They hate their lone sponsor for being a sleezeball, and yet, chose to enter a voluntary competition, knowing this sponsor’s behavior, and still blaming the sponsor for their problems.

The entire time I was reading all I kept thinking was, “Then go home, bitch!”

This was not a high-stakes competition, and the MC didn’t have dire enough circumstances for the reader to believe this was a "life-or-death, even if it sucks, MC has to win," type situation. Not like Hunger Games. This was all completely voluntary.

So I started wondering if the author meant the MC to be the villain with all these personality flaws, but they’re still the underdog with no wins under their belt to support their level of entitled arrogance and no notable skills that make them inherently better than the competition.

So I was rooting for the MC to lose, and I don’t think I was supposed to. Even if I was, the mixup between “underdog hero” and “catty bitchy villain” was too confusing for too much of the story. MC didn't have to be here, didn't want to be here, so... why was MC here?

—

Some suggestions for compelling motivations for your protagonist boils down to this:

Define as quickly as you can these three things for your protagonist of any walk:

What the protagonist wants

How the protagonist plans to get it

And what’s in their way

Specify the stakes, if not physical, then personal. It doesn’t have to be life-or-death, but if they’re entering a risky situation, whatever it is has to be extremely important to them. Luca doesn’t have as high stakes as, say, Toy Story 3 but the moped race is important to the heroes, thus a compelling motivation.

Make this a journey they actually want to be on. Even if it’s grimdark or horror, if your hero is complaining the entire time and wanting to go home, yet plowing forward anyway because the plot’s dragging them on a leash, your audience will be as invested in the story as that character. If they don’t actually have the commitment to see their quest through, why should the audience care?

Alternatively, make this a journey they cannot afford to walk away from. Whether that be pressure from without or within. Frodo didn’t have to take the One Ring to Mordor. He chose to, because it was, in his mind, the right thing to do. He suffered his entire journey with the Ring and got homesick and depressed and discouraged, but he never called his own journey stupid and dumb. He could have put the Ring down and walked away or given it to somebody else, but he chose to carry on, because that’s who he is.

Even reluctant chosen ones have an ulterior reason for remaining in the story. Your long-lost princess might not want the throne being thrust upon her, but she’s chasing something else that accepting the throne and going along with the plot will give her. Maybe it’s power, respect, vengeance, money, protection, connections. So she’ll tolerate the nonsense so long as it still gets her what she wants and her struggle might be trying to not let herself get corrupted by the allure of politics and “the game”. Or, she's playing along merely to stay alive and actively trying to escape and return to her simpler life.

Popular example: Percy Jackson is a reluctant chosen one throughout his entire story in every book, even Last Olympian where he insists that he's the unknown prophecy child. In The Lightning Thief he doesn’t give a damn about the quest for the Master Bolt, he’s there to get his mom back, and cooperating with the quest will give him the means to achieve his goal, and along the way, finds that he doesn’t quite hate it as much as he thought he would.

—

So. Yeah. In no way, shape, or form does your protagonist have to be “likable”. If someone tells you they aren’t, they probably mean that your protagonist is contradictory, or lacks compelling motivation and drive, and lacks a clear goal or aspiration that will define their story. Or, they lack drive to even participate in the story at all.

Or they simply mean that your charcater, who you intend to be likeable, has a nasty flaw that would turn readers off, but a beta should be able to tell you that one easily. If they can't come up with a solid reason why your charcater is unlikable, it's probably a motivation issue.

The earliest draft of a WIP that shall never see the light of day had my protagonist sent on a glorified space field trip by her parents, and wasn’t happy to be there. This not only made her unlikable, but also uncompelling. She didn’t want to participate in the plot and only did it to hold up her end of the deal, she wasn’t excited about the actual trip nor making friends, and eventually grew into it far too late in the story.

I then changed it to have the trip be her idea, and she ran away from home to chase this dream she had. Doing so gave her much more agency as an MC and gave her an immediate motive and goal so you wanted to see her succeed right from the get go.

Even villain protagonists have a goal, and generally they very much enthusiastically want to be in this story. You don’t have to like them, but you do have to want to root for them, if not for their success, then their eventual downfall in a blaze of glory.

—

Interested in a fantasy novel without a "chosen one" protagonist? Eternal Night of the Northern Sky is up for preorder in ebook, paperback on sale 8/25/24. Subscribe for updates if you'd like~

[romana-after-dark]

Joel and Sex Pollen... just imagine it...

dub con with both bc sex pollen and Joel is a tad intimidating but trust me, both are very in. Joel is apoligetic but reader begs for more. Tried to keep it all gender neutral as possible. Kinda objectification. Knife play, tiniest of blood play. Somno!!

Maybe he's a little grumpy when on patrol with you

He's hiding how desperatly he wants you but refuses to indulge.

Literally pick your poisen. You're too young is a classic in Jackson era Joel but maybe you're Tommy's friend or some connection to him.

Maybe he has authority over you... maybe you're new here

maybe you have authority over him

Maybe he just finds you annoying but also fuckable.

Or maybe it's joel "i've lost almost everything I ever loved" miller doesnt wanna risk it again

you go out on patrol, make it to the overnight cabin. After dinner you do another round around the general area even though you don't need to... what else is there to do?

Certainly not talk to you. Crazy to suggest that!!!

A clicker comes and almost gets you, knocking you into a bush where a weird powder comes out. Joel kills the clicker with his bare hands and you could come right there

He thinks it's the adrenaline rush at first, maybe he'll admit to himself he was just a tad bit scared of losing you. But only bc you patrol together sometimes and he's a decent guy.

Not bc your mouth pops up when he’s fucking his fist

But as you are both walking back to the cabin (coughing from the weird plant) he can't help stare.

At first Joel thinks it's bc he's watching, making sure you're okay, not hurt or bit as you walk ahead....

But when you both get to the cabin, that itch, that burn is just too much

He pounces on your, lips locked into yours, hard cock pressed up against you and just ferral. He's tugging at your body like his little play thing, groping and squeezing all the plush parts of you

"I'm sorry" he groans, but doesn't stop what hes doing. Joel's face is tucked into your neck like he's to ashamed to face what he's doing

"I'm so fucking sorry, I c- I can't stop… I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, shit, fuck, I’m sorry. Shit fuck"

What he doesn't know is you're burning alive, the whole walk back you'd barely held onto a thread of decensy... but you needed him. You needed him in a way that was tearing you apart from the inside.

Your hands go for his belt, quickly undoing it and tossing it, the holster, and the gun unsafetly to the side.

"Don't worry, I feel it too."

You swear to god, you heard Joel Miller whine.

The moment of passiviy is over and his massive hands are tearing off the shirt while your shove his pants down

You both end up on the floor, you on your stomach and Joel pinning your body down with his spread legs. You couldn't get away, but there was no way you wanted to.

Joel is using his pocket knife from his discarded pants and you feel the cool metal on your skin as he cuts open a hole in your jeans and underwear.

He absolutely nicks you a few times and you whimper, but it's neither his fault or yours. Niether can stay still or concentrait, neither can stay still.

No prep, he burries himself fully inside you. You scream, but push back to meet his thrusts.

It's dark, desperate and needy. You'd never felt anything more intoxicating than his cock filling your hole again and again.

You cum multiple times in a 10 minuet span, and so does Joel. He never softens, only seems to grow harder for you.

Joel takes you like a doll, like a fleshlite created for his pleaure and in that moment you felt like it. Like Joel was who you were created for, to be his cocksleeve, his fuck toy.

It didn't stop you from cumming again.

Joel puts his booted foot on your back, pressing your face into the muddy floor with your ass up, his hands playing with the little bit of blood on your ass.

He kept apoligizing, alternating from begging for forgiveness to ravaging you, pumping your hole with load after load after hot, stick load.

The apolgies weren't enough to make it stop. Especially not after you kept begging for more

He shoves his fingers in your mouth, and you taste the bits of blood.

Eventually, you pass out, and you have no idea how long he continued to use your limp body, whispering sweet praises and desperate apologies when he managed to get them out through the pain.

When he wakes up, he freaks out

You're still in your cut-up jeans. You never did take them off. There had never been time, the need too great to pause for even a second. Everything ached but... Christ, you felt good. Amazing, even. You hadn't been fucked, really properlyy fucked in a long as time

It takes a while to calm Joel down but you do it. The guilt in his eyes is real…

but you give him a blow job just to show you still want him even after the affects of the plant were off.

[andromeddog]

Do you have any tips for drawing soldiers uniforms?

hi anon! really really long, really really rambling answer for u below the cut <3

i have many thoughts! ig the first thing is, what are your intentions with what you want to draw? are you going for complete accuracy, or is it more of a vibe situation? bc you don’t always need to be perfectly precise with uniforms, sometimes just suggesting what’s there is enough. being completely 100% with them can sometimes be distracting or unnecessary…

LIKE HERE FOR EXAMPLE….. in the snafu piece i kind of only hinted at what he was wearing… the belt, the pants, theyre really all over the place. but that’s not what’s important here or what i was trying to depict, so that’s okay! u want to see snaf being crazy, which i got more w shading and color. whereas in the piece w speirs, being precise in what he’s wearing lends itself to the war dog intensity of the whole guy. he wears that helmet proudly and holds tightly to the strap of his gun, very much IN his uniform in this moment

(do i think either of these r successful? idk. looking back on the work ive made and viewing them as complete “””””art”””””””” pieces is wack. am i in art school again. these certainly are drawings, let’s just assume they are worthy of this sort of analysis and that for sake of argument are “successful”)

buuuuuuut u can also go too crazy with pinpoint accuracy haha. like this pic? maybe it was just bc i was using a monoline brush but there was literally no reason to draw every single fold. it makes this drawing incredibly busy and unpleasant to look at. i think im just obsessive and get too invested in the details and miss the forest for the trees. so u get shit garbage like this sometimes, but that’s a me problem. i would just keep an eye on what the purpose of the drawing is!

if it’s accuracy ur going for (which i usually am) then reference is your best friend. look in different places for them, collect them, caress them like a lover, they are very important. after u look at soldiers a lot u can kind of get a feel for how specific uniforms sit on them (watching shows, movies, hell even gifsets if u r extra online like me) but that varies for whatever era ur trying to draw! spending time researching is kind of a big part of the process haha. be willing to scroll through lots of pics and lots of sources, if ur really dedicated to the cause then maybe buy some reference books!

in general i find uniforms are practical, durable, and layered for utility. everything has a purpose, those fifty straps going cross body are usually attached to fifty pouches, each with their own functional use. understanding the different parts of a uniform, their uses, the WHY of an items inclusion helps build the whole look in ur head and translates to the drawing. uniforms are bulkier than i initially expected bc they are meant to fit as many ppl as possible and typically have little to no tailoring (if we’re talking ww2. ww1 was all over the place w uniforms, especially officers, but that’s another ramble for another friday night). each era and each country and sometimes even each soldier’s uniform has its own little quirks. that’s what’s so appealing about research and drawing them for me! isn’t it neat how ppl’s individual preferences shine through even when they all have to wear the exact same thing!!!!

did any of this help at all??? i am chronically incapable of keeping things succinct! but if u read all of this thank you! i love u 🦆✨

[postersofleon]

gonna bully re6 leon because he needs to be humbled. the way he disrespected chris is still living in my mind. angry/mean sex. fem!reader

the trip back to america was silent. you and leon sat silently in a hotel. you tapped on your foot, feeling annoyed that leon thought he was right. you were the only idiot making progress in the simmons case while leon pointed a gun at chris. "i," you attempted to swallow your anger towards your boyfriend, "why, why didn't you just fucking read my reports?" you even worked on it with ada to see the consequences of simmons, but the moron thought carla was ada. you repeatedly tried over and over through cons or messages and the idiot read it way too late.

"i always feel like I'm talking with a stupid brick wall."

leon opened his legs to man spread, "i thought i was doing right."

"yeah, and what did that get you?" you asked him. leon faked his death to chase simmons and... he gained what? new wounds she has to clean up. you rubbed your face, "and ada still having to clear your name because you focused on the wrong things."

he grimaced for a bit. "simmons was threatening the situation."

"did you even try to ask the people around you?" you asked him. "i know you and Chris don't speak a lot, but, fuck," you couldn't help but laugh, "you are so lucky chris is a good guy. you threatening him for ada despite you knowing shit."

leon's face turned red, "ada saved me. ada had saved the two of us so many times-" his voice was raising every second he got more angry. you laughed softly, he was unbelievable sometimes. "yeah, and defending her for neo-umbrella." you snapped back, "jesus, kennedy, i didn't know you fucked with neo-umbrella. was i the only one actually trying to form a friendship with ada?" the three of them have met for so long. ever since raccoon city, you were the only one who apparently spoke to ada.

leon's nose twitched, "i just wanted to help her."

a small silence was between you two. you two always swore to have sex if an argument was getting too bad. leon took off his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. you followed his direction. you took off your jeans and kicked them down.

"you are a fucking idiot." you hissed softly before sitting on his lap. you rubbed against his bulge, "you are only worth it because of your cock." you grabbed his face.

leon glared at you, but once he felt your pussy lips rubbing on his bulge he groaned weakly. "bitch..." he muttered back. your breaths were mixing with each others. leon's eyes soften for a second until he remembered his anger.

he leaned in and kissed you, nearly throwing you to the ground. leon ripped open your shirt and slapped your tits. "those fucking tits always so fucking needy. you are so angry with me yet your cunt needs me." you grunted weakly from each slap. his hand grabbed your tits and squeezed it.

"you fucking asshole." you moaned weakly. leon dove in and sucked on your nipples. his teeth nibble on the pebble and gently tugged on it.

"you love my bullshit." he muttered softly.

trimming was enough for the two of you.

leon tugged down his underwear and rubbed his cock around your covered panties, "you fucking love my bullshit." you were getting more pissed off and leon moaned softly. "your pussy..." his fingers tugged the sides of your panties. his pre-cum was trailing down your own pubes that you didn't have time to shave completely. you worked too much to worry about it, and leon was the same.

the tip of his cock dragged around your pussy lips. "look at you... god... i need to marry you before i fuck up too badly." his tip circled around your clit making your back arch.

leon's fingers harshly rubbed your clit and they slowly slide down your hole. harshly moving his fingers deep in you. your eyes rolled back as you moaned loudly. "pu-put your stupid cock to work..." you mumbled softly. leon nodded his head.

in the end of the day, leon loved your pussy more than anything. he removed his fingers and slowly slid into your hole. he moaned softly. his anger turned into lust so quickly. your warm walls were always so good. you grabbed his chin and forced him to look at you.

"you need to apologize to chris."

leon nodded his head, "i will. i promise." he grabbed your legs and put them on his waist. you tighten around his cock and he moaned pathetically.

leon is a moron who can't think straight, but he shuts up so fast when he is inside of your cunt. those pathetic little cries of pleasure, his cheeks all red because he wants to keep quiet. leon was moron. you roll your hips so he can feel those specific details, his pathetic cock slips out and oozes out his cum on your tummy.

"i'll be good. i'll shut the fuck up." he grabbed his cock and put it back inside. you two moaned together as he began to push himself deeper into you. your butt was raised from the ground as he pounded you faster and deeper. his balls hit you over and over. his face was in front of yours. the anger in your eyes vanished for a second. you fucking loved this idiot. you kissed you, he stopped thrusting for a bit to properly kiss you.

"i love you..." he mumbled against your lips.

"i love you too."

leon smiled brightly before continuing to fuck your pussy. he rubbed your thighs gently and held your ass tightly against the palm of his hand. he didn't want to lose you despite it sometimes being seen like that. especially with the way you looked at him. he moaned softly, you had the galaxy in your eyes everytime he was around.

he pounded you faster over and over. his hand grabbed you a bit too hard that you moaned loudly. leon was bending you more and more, your legs were completely off the ground as he kept and kept going. the tip of his cock hitting your spot over and over. "leon... leon!" You grabbed his injured shoulder, he hissed out with pain but kept going. his cum painted your wall and filled you up. leon looked at you weakly, he was just an idiot in love with his girlfriend. his hand gently caressed your face. his fingers caressed your lips, "i'm sorry." He whispered softly.

[bullet-prooflove]

The Circuit: Travis Wheatley x Reader

Tagging: Tagging: @kmc1989 @pear-1206 @keyweegirlie @nu1freakshow

You are the only woman that Travis has eyes for. He makes that abundantly clear during his most recent rodeo circuit. He’s a rockstar at these things, pulling in accolades, showcasing his best horses, it’s the reason John Dutton brought him on board. Travis is a money maker and the Duttons want in.

Unfortunately all of this brings the buckle bunnies.

Travis has been around the block with a few of them. He has a reputation, you know that and so does he, he’s been working hard to rid himself of it over the past year but it sticks like mud. He’s hopes news has gotten around that he has a girl but belt bunnies, they’re bold.

“I’m with someone.” He tells Lanelle when she tries to climb into his lap.

She’s a blond firecracker from Georgia with measurements that belong in a Playboy Magazine. The two of them have tussled a few times, she always seeks him out at events like this.

“But she ain’t here Sugar.” She says in that sweet Southern tone of hers as she rearranges her top to highlight her assets. “But I am.”

“Not my thing anymore.” He tells her, his voice tinged with disinterest and she pours her beer right into his lap. He has to say he half expected it. Lanelle doesn’t like not getting what she wants, in the past he appreciated that feistiness, now…

It’s gotten old.

She spends the rest of the night, writhing on the knee of some young gun coming up on the Bronco circuit and Travis could not give less of a fuck.

He slips away early, disappearing from the bar and heading towards his trailer. He usually goes to the break of dawn at these things before climbing back on his horse and winning his next bout but the truth is he’s getting tired.

The doctor tells him he has a good few years left in him if he takes care of himself, cuts down on the booze. Too much partying is starting to catch up with him, his liver isn’t functioning the way it should do.

You’re the only one he’s told about that, you and his Mama. His doctor says if he doesn’t slow down, he’ll be looking for a new liver in the next five years. Before you that wouldn’t have deterred him. He lived hard, he played hard, he would have died on that hill. But then you’d come into his life, a vision in a white cowboy hat and worn out plaid and he  realised he wanted to stick around as long as possible.

He’s never through of himself as an alcoholic, he’s always been a good time guy but the damage adds up and now he’s careful about what he drinks, what he eats because he know he doesn’t have a hope on the transplant list. Even if he did have the surgery it would put him out of action for over six months and he can’t imagine going that long without riding.

He's sitting on the edge of his bed when he calls you. He’s been missing you more and more lately, your smile, your laugh, the press of your soft body against his as you lie tangled up together. You’ve been together almost two years now and it’s getting harder to leave.

“I saw you on TV.” You say when you pick up the phone. “You looked good.”

“Yea.” He says pinching his brow to ward off the headache that’s starting to gnaw at his temples. “We made some real money today.”

“You sound tired.” You say softly and it still amazes him how attuned you are to him even over this distance.

“I’m missing you a little.” He admits as he lies back on the mattress, his gaze coming to rest on the ceiling. “Actually, I’m missing you a lot.”

Love Travis? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[spideyhexx]

oct. 24 - bloody, bliss, belt and billy

Saccharine!Billy Bonney x FemaleReader

mdni!!! wc; 3.4k cw; guns, death, blood, bloodplay, fingering

kinktober 2024 masterlist

saccharine masterlist (this is standalone!!!)

a/n; very happy to bring saccharine back :) i love these two so much, fyi some dialogue is taken from s2ep5!!! Enjoy you lot and preemptive apologies ig

Fuck Buckshot. Like seriously, fuck him. And Murphy. And Jesse. And the whole lot of those guys who are after your Billy. 

Not yours. Yours in theory. 

He doesn’t know yet. 

They are after you too and all of the guys who run with Billy, but you couldn’t give a fuck. If Billy the fucking Kid died at one of their gross hands, you would be seeing red until you were riddled with bullet holes. 

It’s an unfortunate thought. 

You always thought about him getting killed. He would typically brush it off when you bring it up to him. Billy was prepared to die and you hated it. But any ounce of the topic leaving your mouth, he would brush you off and redirect you. 

In hindsight, he could give a small wave of his hand and you would be distracted from your initial thoughts. By his hand. 

And thoughts of his hand.  

Anyway, fuck Buckshot. 

It was a no-brainer that Murphy sent him out to the hideout you and the rest of the gang have been holed up in for the past week. How did they find you all? You’re unsure. There was a rotation of being a lookout and none of you have seen any of Murphy’s guys. 

You all were unlucky indeed. 

Being truly scared by something was not in your blood, but Buckshot left chills in your damn bones. Not as good of a shot as Billy, but Buckshot was still good and he was ruthless. A kind of violence you only read myths about but you have seen with your own eyes what that grimy man was capable of. 

Buckshot had approached your little hideout alone. He’s at a distance, but George recognized him the moment he saw the lazy movements of a man sipping from a flask while on his horse. 

It’s a slow, but urgent rush of moving inside the small house after Billy. Billy’s jaw is tight. Not that you are looking at his jaw. 

But your eyes naturally fall on him in the adrenaline rush of a possible shootout. It can’t be that bad, can it? It‘s seven on one, and the odds are in your favor, but a flash of Billy’s chest destroyed with bullet holes did not help your stomach. 

He moves closer to the small window, and you and Tom trail quickly behind him. “Do you think-”

“Shh,” Billy hushes you and the restraint you hold on rolling your eyes should earn you a clap from him. 

“He already knows we’re here,” you mumble and Billy only gives you a momentary glare before he’s watching through the small window again.

He raises his rifle, and cocks it, keeping it aimed right at the bumbling man coming down from his horse, his fingers gripping the weapon with an ease only Billy could have. 

Your fingers twitch at your gun in your holster, but you don’t pull it out yet. Your shoulder brushes his arm and Billy shakes his head ever so slightly. 

The nerve of this fucking man. A brush and he’s shaking his head at you. If you weren’t fearing for potential lives lost, you’d smack the back of his head to really get a reaction. 

You can vaguely hear George’s words to Buckshot, wondering why he’s here, how he found you all. Billy is impossibly still besides his jaw clenching. 

“I come to capture the Kid…alive or dead,” Buckshot says in the distance your eyes refocus out the small opening of the house. Your hand tightens to the handle of your gun. If Billy is miraculously not quick enough, you’ll get this done for him. 

It’s annoying that you’re distracted a few seconds by Billy shifting up closer to the window, his fingers clenching and then relaxing on his gun, keeping it pointed, ready. You’re especially attracted to his finger near the trigger and the slight tenseness in his voice as he mutters, “C’mon Georgie, move.”

When you look back over, George is as calm as ever, stating his ground, though you echo Billy’s words in your head. Buckshot starts to laugh though, sending more chills up your spine. Your heart beats fast as he quickly pulls up his rifle. 

A flurry of guns raising and cocking fills the air. You go to do your own, but Billy stops your hand, then returns his to his gun. Your brow furrows at him and he doesn’t look back at you. 

By the time you look back out the window, Buckshot is shooting at George. 

A gasp leaves your lips and shots ring out, Tom grabbing your arm to tug you down out of sight of the window. You hear Billy’s gun go off once, and twice, and the anguished sound of pain from outside the house. Your friends are getting shot. 

You pull your gun out.

Buckshot yells out, “Billy! You fuckin’ coward, where ya at!?” 

You peek from the doorway to asses who’s hurt, only to feel someone’s hand grip at your collar and pull you back. 

Billy. His face is screwed in annoyance and he pulls you back completely out of the way as his voice booms, “Y’all stay here! It’s me he’s after.”

Your eyes widen as you process his words, “Bonney!”

“No,” Billy all but pushes at your head so you stay on the ground and away as he nears the doorway,  “Buckshot, hold your fire!”

Maybe you’ll kill Billy before Buckshot has a chance. You stare daggers into him, but stay put on the wooden floor. His eyes quickly glance at you, before he yells, “I’m comin’ out!” 

Your brain scream at you to lunge forward. Grab to his leg! Pull him down with you! Barrel yourself in front of him! But your limbs don’t work. The chills that went up your spine reached your head then flowed back down your entire body, leaving you frozen and breathing heavy as you watch Billy hold his hands out. 

“You can take me alive,” he shouts over to Buckshot, stepping slow out of the house. Bouts of worry fill your chest and you force yourself to move the slightest bit to be able to watch him. 

“Puttin’ my rifle down,” Billy continues, slowly setting his gun against the nearby post of the house. Some of the other men scatter to get into better positions and you take that opportunity to give yourself the final push to bring you to your feet. 

You move out of the small house as Billy continues his small steps towards Buckshot. Your hand firm on your gun, staying crouched down enough to hide yourself and have a good eye on Billy. 

“It’s just you and me,” he calls out. Your gaze stays strictly on his back, his broad shoulders tense as he holds his arms out in surrender. What the fuck is he thinking, you wonder, and you’re already coming up with ways to berate him later for this if he doesn’t get killed. 

Buckshot rises from his hiding spot, then you feel a heat spark deep in you. It’s so quick, you should have expected it, but Billy pulls his gun from his holster like lightning and shoots at Buckshot, getting him right near his hip. 

Billy stalks forward with his gun raised and you subconciously clench your thighs together, your back to the post, but head turned to watch every single one of Billy the fucking Kid’s movements. 

He cocks his gun just as Buckshot fumbles for his gun, but the man stands no chance as Billy fires off again. 

Billy’s steps quicken until he can drive his booted foot to Buckshot’s wrist as he was reaching for his rifle, “No, leave it,” Billy spits out and you find yourself inching closer to the scene, gun at the ready in case Buckshot gets an upperhand. 

But who are you kidding? 

You can feel Billy’s sneer almost as if it’s directed at you. His boot digs into the man’s wrist, as Buckshot garbles out a, “fuck you,” at Billy. His hand holds his gun with less tensity than you would expect, but that’s because Billy is all confidence. All of his actions are met with no hesitation and full bravado, enough to make you roll your eyes back and look away from him to collect yourself. 

You can’t look away for too long.  

Billy kneels down and grabs at Buckshot’s free arm to keep pressing him down, his voice gruff, “You lookin’ for me? You lookin’ for me huh?” 

All Buckshot does is laugh like the evil son of a bitch he is but you can’t focus on him. The man on top of him, the man on top of him cocks his gun and he jams the barrel to Buckshot’s mouth, “Here I am.”

Billy squeezes the trigger, killing Buckshot in that mere instant. The beating of your heart almost hurts your chest as you stare at him, mouth parted and hand loosening on your own gun. 

The man chokes for a few seconds and Billy removes his hands from him, panting. His head lifts and his eyes lock to yours. For those few moments Billy looks at you, you see the pure violence and ruthlessness swimming in his bright eyes. It should scare you, and it does, but it also excites a part of you that you wish did not exist. The same part of you that’s brutal. 

His eyes flit to your lap, where you had not realized your hand was awfully high on your thigh. You feel yourself heat up, and move your hand quickly, holstering your gun, but he’s already looking away, gaze back down at Buckshot. You’re locked in as Billy spits on his corpse before he stands back up.  

Spits. 

Your eyes flutter and you swallow down hard, barely catching the sound of some of the men walking over, but when your eyes focus again, Billy’s stalking off towards the thicket of trees ahead, alone. 

A push of adrenaline surges you onto your feet and you jog after him, ignoring any of the looks from the others. 

“Billy!” 

He stops short and you almost bump into his back. Well, you purposely let yourself bump into his back. It’s a little chilly outside but he’s warm. 

A sigh leaves him and he turns to face you, his typical blank look challenges that violence still swarming in his eyes, but you center your attention to the blood on his face. Then drop your gaze to the blood on his hands. The redness shouts out it’s danger in a wordless manner, you know Billy, but who is this Billy? This Billy that kills without a moment’s hesitation and is not looking bothered in the slightest that he’s got another man’s blood on him. He must be bothered, you know that. His fingers twitch at his side and the blood on his pointer finger calls your name. His other hand still holds to his gun. 

Get it together, cowgirl, you think to yourself. Fuck that, you think immediately after. You grab his gun from him and stuff it into his belt. Billy does nothing to stop you. 

His brow raises. “What?”

“That was really fuckin’ stupid,” you mutter. In your head, you said it louder and with a bitterness to your voice, but no matter how hard you could try, it was not gonna come out that way. 

His jaw tightens and he looks off to the side at nothing in particular, then back to you. His eyes rake down then back up to your face. The familiar chill runs through you, but not a scared one. 

“Maybe, but it’s done. Go back to the guys, see if they need help,” Billy says, his voice still rough, nodding towards where you both came from. 

“Haha. You’re not gettin’ rid of me like that, Bonney, you know that,” you tell him with a touch of that bitter tone you were hoping to give him. You step closer to him to almost be chest to chest. He doesn’t flinch or move. 

“That was stupid. Buckshot is-was a good shot and he coulda easily gotten you and then killed all of us right after ya! You’re lucky you’re such a good fuckin’ shot too because-”

“Cowgirl. Slow. Your. Roll,” Billy says, his voice a bit lower, head tilted down enough to meet your gaze head on. 

You grit your teeth. The indifference on his face makes your blood boil and your underwear get wetter but that’s besides the point, “No! In fact what was that stunt ya pulled in the house? You know I can handle my own and you grab me and pull me back? You push me away when I was gonna help? Billy fucking Bonney, how many times do I-”

His chapped lips from the incoming cold winter press into yours and you would not have it any other way. 

It’s the…second? Third time he’s kissed you? It’s better by a million each time. The force in which Billy grabs your face, digging his bloody fingers to your cheeks and bruising your lips with his own leads to the filthiest thoughts you think you’ve ever had. This violent man that you deem yours, a little bloodied, none of it his own. Rugged and roughly giving you his all through just a mere kiss? 

You give him back as much as he gives, pressing to him and fisting your hands to his vest, until you remember why you were telling him off and you push at him. “No!”

Billy blinks at you with a dazed look in his eyes and he shifts his gun belt, as if to hide the growing bulge in his pants. 

It was that easy. 

“Oh fuck you,” you grumble, stomping back closer and slamming your lips back to his. You don’t think about the blood now staining your cheeks or the slight metallic taste that gets in your mouth when you bite on Billy’s lip. His groan is enough to suffice and quench the way you were angry at him. 

Still, you mumble to his lips through kisses, “I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know,” he says, backing the two of you up until you’re up against a tree. His lips trail down along your jaw, nipping at the skin, his hands awkwardly not holding onto you. 

“Billy, just touch me.”

“They’re dirty.”

You roll your eyes. “Billy you already touched my face, I don’t care about the fuckin’ blood.”

To prove your words, you undo the buttons of your trousers, then grab his wrist, pulling his hand down the front of your pants. For a second you’re afraid he’ll reject this. You have yet to do something as much as this with him, but your body is aching. Your feelings beyond being angry or worried about him, but feeling fucking alive at the way he killed Buckshot. 

He doesn’t hesitate.  

Billy the fucking Kid. Man. He’s a man. 

Billy moans and leans his forehead to your cheek, his fingers dipping into your underwear and sliding against your cunt to get a feel for you. 

“I would watch you kill that motherfucker over and over again if you did it that way,” you whisper to him with a harsh breath as his fingers circle your clit, like he knows your body already despite having never touched it like this. 

“This is sick of you,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your cheek and lingering his lips there. You don’t point out to Billy that although it may be fucked of you to enjoy this while his fingers are bloodied with someone else’s blood, he may be just as sick for kissing near the blood stain on your cheek and promptly licking over his lips to let the blood into his mouth. 

You want to call him out for it so bad, but he eases his finger into you just right, breathing hot on your face. 

“Oh…fuck,” you whisper, glancing down, your knees almost buckling as he starts to slowly thrust his finger into you, and you catch the side of his bulge, more prominent than you may have ever seen it, straining to his trousers and begging for your attention. 

“Bonney, can I-”

“Yes,” he cuts you off, taking his finger out just enough to add a second. You bite your lip to stifle your moan, your hand finding the outline of his cock and palming him, giving him some sort of friction that he clearly needed because Billy adjusts his arm and begins fucking his fingers quick up into you. 

Billy nods to your cheek when you whimper, “I know, I know, I knew you’d get so fuckin’ wet for me, Cowgirl, but…fuck you’re dirty, fuck I got his fuckin’ blood…,” Billy can’t finish his words because he has to muffle his own noise, pressing his face into your hair and nuzzling his nose at your temple. 

“You…you spit on him,” you mumble and Billy shakes his head against you, curling his fingers and massaging them in you to get you to whimper. He likes that sound, you deduce. 

“I spit on him,” Billy repeat and his free hand shoots up to your jaw, holding your face up and he spits on your lips before you can open your mouth to receive it. It makes his eyes flutter and his forehead rest to yours, his fingers making quick work even with the restraint your pants give. You can both hear the sound, how wet you are and how his palm slaps to your cunt with each thrust. 

He knows you can’t focus on rubbing him, but what you are able to do is enough in the moment. Your thumb rubs right at his tip over his pants, feeling the wet spot forming the more you press into it. You can barely look at your Billy, though that’s all you want to do. All you want to do is look at the man. 

He squeezes your jaw and kisses the corner of your mouth, a sweeter kiss than you’d expect in the moment as you clench around his fingers and resist screaming out his name. Another time. 

“Gonna come on your fingers, Billy,” you shudder, and he quickens the pace, brow furrowed and eyes locked intensely on your face. 

“Make ‘em more of a mess, go ahead, please,” he whispers, a desperation wafting from his voice and his hips bucking your hand. What sends you over the edge is his thumb just barely slipping to your mouth, the taste of blood filling your senes as you spasm on his fingers, and bite your cheek hard enough to draw your own blood. 

You’ve never felt this blissed out. Your legs almost buckle, but Billy presses against you enough to keep you standing as his fingers work you through the orgasm, his breath panting and his nose finding your temple again, where he leaves the softest kiss, you almost would not notice it.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, his fingers slipping out of you and then pulling from your pants. His fingers surely are a slick mess, the remnants of blood still there and the wet spot on the front of his pants bigger than when you first saw it. 

You stare at him. He stares at you. Your breaths aren’t returning to normal, but you cannot look away from him. 

“I didn’t want you to get hurt either,” he blurts out, referring most likely to why he pushed you back earlier.

“No shit.”

He straightens up and shakes his head. He would roll his eyes at you, you’re sure, but he doesn’t. 

You slap at his chest but he grabs your wrist, “Hey!”

“Don’t ever remind me of this,” he tells you in a low voice. You frown. Was this him rejecting you? That it was a mistake all along? That he acted on some weird impulse and did not care to continue this despite the constant-

“About this part,” he mutters, awkwardly gesturing to his pants.

Your Billy. 

Your lips start to quirk and he squeezes your wrist tighter, “Cowgirl, No. I said no.”

“One sentence,” you beg, even adding a little whine. Just for him. 

He tries to give you a stern look, but his shoulders slump and he shifts on his feet, “One.”

Letting yourself smile, you take a deep breath, “You must reallyyyyy fuckin’ like me if you come that easily, Bonney. And-”

“Ah Ah Ah,” he interrupts and puts his palm over your mouth, but you can see the hint of a smile on his lips, and the violence gone from his eyes. 

Your Billy. 

[callsign-mayhem]

to the moon and back

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Mitchell!Reader Word Count: 5.2k

You are the daughter of Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell and the lifelong best friend of Bradley Bradshaw. Nothing has ever been able to get in between the two of you, not even the feelings you’ve been harbouring for him for as long as you can remember. But when you both get called to Top Gun for what seems to be a suicide mission, you realise that life is too short to keep your love for him a secret.

Y/CS - your call sign

Use of Y/N but no description of reader

You couldn’t remember the last time you laid eyes on Bradley Bradshaw, and if you’d known you would be this affected by the mere sight of him then you would have better prepared yourself. He was in his rightful place behind the piano at The Hard Deck, performing ‘Great Balls of Fire’ with all his usual enthusiasm, and then some. His infectious personality had every person in the bar gravitating towards him, belting out the lyrics along with him as though their lives depended on it. You had to draw from every reserve of strength you had so as not to march right up to him and kiss him senseless. You’d missed him so much.

Being deployed had been difficult for you and had felt like exactly the wrong thing at the time, but eventually you realised that it was what you needed. If you’d stayed, it would have only been a matter of time until you spilt your guts to Bradley about the feelings you’d been harbouring for him since you were teenagers.

The song was almost over and so was your time for composing yourself. It was ridiculously warm in the packed bar, so taking a deep breath was no good. You resigned yourself to a few shots of something strong - liquid courage if you will - and headed to the bar to speak to Penny.

‘Y/N!’ she exclaimed, ‘what are you doing here?’ ‘I have no idea,’ you told her, ‘an assignment of some sort. I find out more tomorrow,’ you gestured to Bradley and a few of your other friends from the academy, ‘and apparently I’m not the only one they called. I don’t know whether I should be worried or relieved.’ ‘Your dad was just in here. He know you’re back?’ ‘Yeah, I haven’t seen him yet though,’ you gestured to the bottle of Jack behind her, ‘can I get one of those, please? Or three?’ Penny reached for the bottle and a shot glass. ‘Not wasting any time, huh?’ You glanced behind you to where Phoenix was patting Bradley on the back and getting everyone to cheer for him, ‘It’s been a while since I’ve seen these guys.’ ‘You mean it’s been a while since you saw Rooster,’ she smiled knowingly. You downed your shot and slammed the tiny glass back down. Penny refilled it immediately, ‘That too,’ you admitted with a wince. ‘You already know what I’m going to say.’ ‘Yes, and you already know why I can’t tell him.’

You downed your second shot and just as you were about to do your third, someone covered your eyes with their hand. You knew who it was without having to hear him speak or look at his face because you’d know him deaf and blind. Hell, you’d know him in death.

The familiar rumble of his voice in your ear set your entire nervous system alight: ‘Guess who.’ ‘Hmm,’ you pretended to think, ‘I don’t know. Hangman?’ Rooster scoffed, ‘I haven’t seen you in two years and the first thing you do is insult me? Glad to know some things never change, Y/CS.’

You spun around and looped your arms around his neck, pressing your face into the side of his. He lifted you off the floor and spun you around with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, laughing like a little kid. It felt like no time at all had passed.

‘And you’re still shooting whiskey like it’s water,’ he noted, setting you down gently, ‘so you definitely haven’t changed.’

You drank him in hungrily, trying to act like you weren’t totally out of control on the inside. In one of his dad’s old Hawaiian shirts with his aviators perched on the tip of his nose, he wasn’t exactly a brand new man. Something about him was different, though, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Even as the two of you had gotten older, you’d always seen him as the goofy kid in the cowboy hat that could make you laugh on the darkest days. Throughout high school and your time at the academy, he’d been the person you confided in about everything, and the only secret you’d ever kept from him was your ever-growing feelings for him. But now, after just over two years apart, he felt more like a stranger than ever before. Nothing had changed, but everything had changed, and you were struggling to figure out how that could be.

‘You want a beer?’ you asked. ‘Sure, but no more shots for you. We gotta be up early and I know if you carry on drinking like that you won’t get out of bed.’ ‘When you’re right, you’re right.’

You got Rooster a beer and a JD and coke for yourself before heading over to the rest of the group. There were a few people whose reputations preceded them but you’d never met in real life, and then there was Phoenix, one of your closest friends from the academy. When she saw you she practically jumped on you and Rooster had to take your drink from your hand so it didn’t spill everywhere.

‘Y/CS!’ ‘Hey,’ you giggled, ‘Phoenix, it’s great to see you too but I can’t breathe.’ ‘Sorry, sorry,’ she relented, ‘how’ve you been? I haven’t seen you since your deployment. When did you get back?’ ‘Couple of months ago,’ you told her, ‘I’ve been in South Carolina.’ ‘You’ve been back months?’ Rooster cut in, ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ ‘You know how it is, Roo,’ you said, ‘you get deployed, come home and your whole life is upside down for a while. By the time you’ve settled back in, weeks have gone by and you still haven’t had a chance to see anyone.’

He nodded, but his hurt was apparent. Hangman sidled up next to you and you’d never been more relieved by his incredibly annoying presence. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, hugging you tight. He was a massive ass, but you’d somehow ended up friends while being stationed together a few years ago. A lot of his bravado was an act, and when he let his guard down he was actually a great person to talk to.

‘Y/N Mitchell,’ he said, ‘Long time no see.’ ‘Can’t say I’m mad about that.’ His usual shit-eating grin was plastered across his face, ‘You and I both know that’s a lie.’ ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night, Seresin.’

Everyone makes small talk for a while and those who have never met before are introduced. You pull a barstool over and sit next to Bob, Phoenix’s new back-seater. She’s the first one to point out the elephant in the room.

‘So anybody know what this ‘special detachment’s’ all about?’ ‘A mission’s a mission,’ Hangman replies, ‘They don’t confront me. What I wanna know is who’s team leader. And which’a ya’ll have what it takes to follow me?’ Hangman winks at Rooster, needling him, ‘Hangman, the only place you’ll ever lead anyone is an early grave.’ Hangman looks up from his next shot and walks over to Rooster until they’re standing face to face. ‘Anyone follows you is just gonna… run outta fuel. But then that’s you all over, ain’t it, Rooster? Snug on your perch, waitin’ for juuuuust the right moment. That never comes.’ Rooster tenses visibly and you grab his arm, ‘Hey, you wanna get another drink? Feel like we’ve got some catching up to do.’

You leave the rest of the group to their game and grab a couple more drinks before heading outside. The Bronco is parked out front looking prettier than ever, paintwork glinting in the late-evening sunlight. If you had a dollar for the amount of late-night drives you and Bradley had taken in that thing, you’d be a billionaire.

You intended to sit at one of the tables outside The Hard Deck, but Rooster had other ideas. You ignored the swarm of butterflies in your stomach when he took your hand and led you down towards the beach and reminded yourself that you had no reason to be nervous; he was your best friend, he didn’t know about your feelings and nothing had changed.

‘I still can’t believe you’ve been back months and you didn’t tell me.’ You cringed, ‘I’m sorry, Bradley. I should’ve called, I know.’ ‘Mav know you’re back?’ Yeah, he’s here too.’

Your father was a touchy conversation subject and you tried to avoid talking about him as much as possible. Once you’d eventually realised that there was no way of convincing Rooster that everything he’d done had come from a place of love and concern, you’d given up trying to keep the peace. It was difficult, letting him fester in his own anger, but it wasn’t your fight. However, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t still holding out hope that things would go back to the way they used to be someday.

‘How’ve you been, anyway?’ you asked, swiftly changing the subject, ‘What’s new in your life?’ ‘The usual. Getting called down here is the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in months.’ You laughed, ‘That can’t be true. What happened to the girl you were dating?’ ‘Molly? Jesus Christ, that was over as quickly as it started. I stopped seeing her not long after you left,’ he sipped his beer, ‘what about you? Meet your future husband while you were away?’ ‘Nope,’ you sighed, ‘starting to think I’m destined to be alone forever.’ ‘What about Hangman?’ Rooster asked, Jake’s callsign sounding like ashes in his mouth.

To call your brief fling with Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin a mistake would have been putting it lightly. You’d been stationed together in Alabama for a little while and he was the only familiar person there so, naturally, you’d gravitated towards him and him to you. After getting to know each other better, one thing had led to another and you’d ended up sleeping together after one too many JD and cokes. That one night had led to another and another until you were pretty much dating, although neither of you had ever mentioned putting any kind of label on whatever it was the two of you had going on. Rooster had been up in arms when he found out, yelling at you down the phone that Jake was a complete and total asshole and that you deserved so much better, leading to the worst - and only - fight you’d ever had.

While getting involved with Jake was definitely a mistake and you didn’t plan on walking down that particular path ever again, you still stood by what you said in his defence: you have to get to know him in order to understand him.

‘You already know that’s over.’

Rooster looked at you and you had to remind yourself to breathe. You’d never wanted to kiss him more in your entire life.

‘I’ve got no idea why we’re here,’ he said, ‘but I’m glad you’re with me, Y/N.’ ‘Me too, Bradley. Me too.’

-

The special detachment, as it turned out, was a suicide mission. There was no other way of putting it. Your dad was immensely proud of you and your accomplishments and had never once doubted your abilities as a pilot, but he wasn’t happy that you were on this particular mission. He wasn’t happy that Rooster was on it either. After your first day of training, you went to dinner with your old man so you could catch up and talk about what you’d be in for over the course of the next couple of weeks. You hadn’t realised just how much you’d missed him until you were sitting in front of him, but part of you wished it was under different circumstances.

‘Surely me being part of the team you’re training goes against some kind of rule,’ you said around a mouthful of steak. ‘The stakes are so high, I think mostly every rule has already gone out the window.’ ‘I haven’t been this scared since I climbed in a cockpit for the first time,’ you admitted, ‘but I’ve also never wanted to be on a mission more.’ Your dad smiled, but there was fear in his eyes, ‘I don’t like that look, Y/N.’ ‘It’s the only one I got, Dad, and I got it from you.’ ‘Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about.’

-

White hot rage blinded you like a fire poker between your eyes. The minute Rooster walked through the doors you were racing up to him. Jake had to grab both of your arms and pull you off him to prevent you from swinging at him.

‘What the fuck was that Bradshaw?!’ you roared, ‘You got a fucking death wish?!’

He ran a hand through his hair, face flushed from the heat and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. You weren’t just angry at him for endangering his life, or your dad’s, for that matter, you were angry because you understood why he’d done it. And you knew that if you were in his shoes and you were up there with something to prove, you’d have done the exact same thing.

‘Can we not do this here?’

You shrugged Jake off and straightened out your flight suit, leading Bradley out of the room. He followed you outside into the blazing heat of the San Diego sun where you preceded to turn around and punch him so hard in the shoulder that he took a step back.

‘Jesus, Y/N,’ he huffed, ‘was that really necessary?’ ‘I don’t know, was nearly killing yourself and my dad really necessary?’ ‘I had it under control!’ You laughed humourlessly,  ‘Yeah, it looked like it.’ ‘I’m not gonna have this fight with you,’ he said matter-of-factly, ‘I’m sorry for scaring you, but you have to understand-’ ‘I do understand!’ you screamed, ‘But just because I understand, doesn’t mean I can’t be pissed as hell!’

He pulled you flush against his chest and you softened immediately, unable to resist the comfort and security that came with one of Bradley’s bear hugs. If you had it your way, you’d stay in his arms like this for the rest of time.

‘You really need to have it out with Mav,’ you mumbled into his flight suit, ‘this is getting beyond ridiculous - it’s dangerous.’ He kissed the top of your head, ‘I know.’

-

You had to admit, dog fight football was a stroke of genius on your dad’s part. It was the perfect way to relieve any tensions between the team and also take everyone’s minds off the upcoming mission. Jake and Bradley - the two team captains - tossed a coin to decide who would pick first, and Jake ended up picking you. You suspected he did it just to get underneath Bradley’s skin, and judging by the set of his jaw as you marched over to Jake, his plan worked.

You also had Payback on your team, and between the two of you, you were carrying the whole game. You didn’t like to toot your own horn but… toot toot.

‘Come on Bradshaw!’ you yelled, smirking devilishly, ‘You really gonna let me kick your ass so spectacularly in front of everyone?!’ ‘You’ve got Payback! It ain’t fair!’ ‘Oh, so you don’t think we could win without him?!’

He was holding one of the balls and was preoccupied with insulting you, so when you ran at him at full force and snatched it right out of his hands, he was too stunned to try and stop you. Hangman and Payback both cheered, but as soon as Bradley refocused he was on your heels, and he had the advantage of extremely long legs.

Just before you could score, he came up behind you and wrapped both of his arms around your middle, lifting you off the ground and throwing you over his shoulder. You were so startled you dropped the ball and unluckily for you, Coyote was right there to pick it up and score another point for their team.

‘Put me down you cheat!’

Rooster was laughing so hard you could feel him shaking with it as he ran. He didn’t stop running until he reached the water and it was up to his waist, and then he dropped you in. It was freezing but actually quite a relief after running around in the sun all afternoon. You came up for air coughing and sputtering to find him doubled over with laughter, and you took the opportunity to drag him back down with you, pushing his head down further under the water. You knew you wouldn’t be able to overpower him long and before you could even comprehend what was happening he had a tight grip on both of your thighs, yanking you back under.

If not for the fact that it all happened so quickly, you would have spent more time revelling in the feeling of his big hands wrapped around the tops of your thighs. Your whole body broke out in goosebumps, and you knew it wasn’t from the chill of the water. When you both resurfaced you were smiling like fools and laughing like two lovesick teenagers, and you never wanted the moment to end.

‘Hey!’ Hangman called out, ‘Are you two still playing or what? I’ve got a game to win!’ With an eye roll, you yelled back: ‘Yeah we’re still playing, you couldn’t win without me anyway!’

Somehow, Rooster’s sunglasses had remained on his face throughout the entire fiasco, and you reached out and gently slid them off. He blinked against the sunlight and watched in awe as you put them on.

‘Did I say you could wear those?’ he asked. ‘Did I ask your permission?’

The two of you made your way back towards the rest of the squad, and it looked like your team was back in the lead. A sly remark about Rooster’s sabotage failing was on the tip of your tongue, but then he put his hand on your waist and pulled you into his side, ruffling the top of your head affectionately. The skin-on-skin contact was enough to drive you insane, and your words died on your lips.

‘Keep them,’ he murmured, ‘they look better on you anyway.’

-

When the mission got moved up, any calmness you felt dissipated like water on the hot asphalt of a runway. Your dad was now team leader and you had mixed feelings about it. You’d spent your whole life fearing for him, but knowing he was going on this mission really took the cake. And then there was the small issue of you being his kid, which would undoubtedly cloud his judgement when it came to selecting the rest of his team. For one, the chances of him even wanting you on the mission were slim to none, but then there was the worry that if he chose you, it would be seen as favouritism.

The final day of training was over and you’d been told to go and get some rest before tomorrow, and despite your exhaustion, you knew that if you were to lay down in your bunk now sleep wouldn’t come. It was one of those rare moments where the sky over Fightertown was empty and as a result, an eerie quiet had settled over the base. You were still in full flight gear - minus your helmet - sitting on the ground in the shade provided by the wing of your F/A-18. Before settling in for the night you still had to find time to shower, get something to eat and see your dad, but you were paralysed.

You dreaded to think how long you would’ve sat there if Rooster hadn’t suddenly materialised. He sat down opposite, stretching his long legs out so they were on either side of you.

‘What are you still doing out here?’ he asked gently, ‘You feeling okay?’

You were fiddling with your dog tags, a nervous tic you’d picked up in the academy, and Rooster never failed to notice. Looking into your eyes earnestly, he took both of your hands in his.

‘Talk to me, Y/CS.’ You sighed deeply, ‘I’ve never been this nervous about a mission before. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’ ‘This is the highest-stakes mission either of us has ever gone on in our careers. I would be worrying if you weren’t nervous.’ ‘Yeah, but you know me, Roo. I don’t do nerves.’ ‘You think I’m not shitting my pants at the thought of having to fly tomorrow?’ You laughed despite the lump in the base of your throat, ‘You hide it better than me, then.’ ‘You can’t keep anything off your face, Y/N. I always know what you’re feeling.’ ‘You do?’

Your heart dropped at the thought of him being able to read you so well, but in hindsight, you should have known. You’d literally been destined to be best friends since before you were born, since your dads stayed up late one night talking about their futures, wondering if they’d have kids and how well they’d get along. As far as you knew, he’d never kept anything from you, and you’d only ever kept one thing from him. You lived your life at the same pace, shared the same moral compass and wanted all the same things. You finished each other’s sentences and could have secret conversations through facial expressions, without even having to speak. If he called, you answered. If he needed you, you ran to him, and vice versa.

You didn’t need him to confirm your worst fear: he knew you were in love with him. There was no doubt in your mind and you were a fool not to have seen it sooner.

As though he’d read your mind and sensed the worsening of your anxiety, he changed the subject.

‘What do you say we go and grab a bite to eat?’ ‘Like a last supper?’ Bradley laughed, ‘You can be really morbid sometimes, you know that?’

-

‘It’s been an honour flying with you,’ your dad said, ‘each one of you represents the best of the best. This is a very specific mission. My choice is a reflection of that, and nothing more.’ ‘Choose your two Foxtrot teams.’ Cyclone told him.

You fought the urge to vomit down your flight suit.

‘Phoenix and Bob. Y/CS and Payback.’

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

‘And your wingman.’

The tension in the air was palpable. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of your neck.

‘Rooster.’

You could feel Bradley’s eyes on you, but judging by the unpleasant feeling that had overcome you, turning around to face him wouldn’t be a smart idea. For one, he more than likely looked just as nauseous as you and seeing him like that would only cause your anxiety to skyrocket. Secondly, he was the one person you could be completely vulnerable in front of and since it was already taking every ounce of your strength not to cry, it was probably best not to engage.

For the next hour, the seconds passed you by like cars on a highway. You listened to Warlock explain the mission for the final time, but his words went in one ear and came out the other. You stayed at Payback’s side up until it was time to go, but just as you were heading out to the flight deck, your dad pulled you aside for the conversation you’d been anticipating since he said your name.

His expression was, as ever, unreadable and you decided that it was probably a good thing that you didn’t know exactly what he was feeling in that moment. If Maverick was nervous, then you really had something to worry about.

He pulled you close and squeezed you tight, and you let out a single, strangled sob.

‘I know you can do this.’ ‘Me too,’ you were clinging onto him for dear life, ‘but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified.’ ‘If I didn’t believe in you completely, I wouldn’t have chosen you.’ ‘I know, Dad.’ ‘I love you, Y/N.’ ‘I love you too. I’ll see you when we get back.’

He kissed the top of your head before letting you go and you headed out to the flight deck together. Payback was already waiting for you, but it seemed as though there was one more conversation to be had. Maverick patted Rooster on the back as he passed, throwing one final glance back at the two of you. All you could do was remind yourself over and over again that you’d be seeing him later and that you’d be going for steaks at your favourite diner back in San Diego before you knew it.

You could tell Rooster didn’t know what to say but it didn’t matter. You already knew, because you were thinking all the same things.

‘When we get home, I have some things I wanna talk to you about.’

He reached out to touch your cheek and you leaned into his hand, almost nuzzling his palm with the side of your face. Hugging him, you decided, would be too final. It would feel like a goodbye, and this wasn’t a goodbye, it was simply ‘see you later.’

‘There are some things I want to talk to you about as well,’ you smiled sheepishly, ‘but if you can read me as well as you say, you already know that.’ ‘Yeah, I know.’ ‘Fly safe, Roo.’ ‘Give ‘em hell, Y/CS.’

-

It wasn’t humanely possible to count how many times you’d flown. It was as natural as breathing oxygen, almost a second thought at this point. Getting into the cockpit of a fighter plane felt more like coming home than walking through the front door of the house you grew up in with your dad.

But nothing could have prepared you for that mission.

And nothing could have prepared you for the immense feeling of sheer panic and terror when your dad was hit. It was as though the bottom of your plane had dropped out and you were in freefall. If that wasn’t horrific enough, Rooster had gone after him. This paired with the chaos of the dogfight was traumatising enough that you’d forgotten how to breathe and what you were supposed to be doing. You had absolutely no idea how Payback managed to talk you down from going after both of them, but he did, as well as calming you down enough so you could fly back to the aircraft carrier.

You weren’t in the habit of being overly emotional in front of anyone who wasn’t Bradley or your father, but when you climbed out of the cockpit and Phoenix was already waiting for you, arms open, you collapsed onto her and broke down. You’d been completely inconsolable up until you got word of Rooster’s signal in an unidentified F-14.

Surprisingly, the relief came after cursing yourself for ever believing that your father could be bested by anyone. At this point, you were almost entirely sure that he was immortal. And as for Bradley, he was much stronger than everyone else realised. He gave Maverick a run for his money, and that was saying something. Phoenix was the only reason you hadn’t collapsed onto the ground when you realised they were okay and coming home, with the help of Hangman, of course. In the back of your mind, you were wondering how long it was going to take to hear the end of it from Jake.

And there you were on the flight deck with Phoenix’s arm around your shoulder and Payback’s around your waist, watching your dad and your best friend make the rockiest landing you’d ever seen. It felt as though all your internal organs were in your throat as you watched the net get thrown out, ready to catch the incoming aircraft and stop it from going overboard. The sound was near-deafening but you hardly noticed with the rushing blood in your ears. As soon as that plane stopped moving, you tore away from Phoenix and Payback and made a beeline towards the F-14, safety concerns be damned.

Your dad climbed out first, somehow steady on his feet despite what he’d just been through. But that was Mav all over, wasn’t it? He didn’t so much as wobble until you threw yourself at him.

‘Dad!’ you shrieked, ‘Are you okay? Are you hurt?’

He held you with the strength of someone who had a newfound value for their own life. He cradled the back of your head with one hand and stroked your hair like he used to when you were small.

‘I’m okay, are you okay?’ ‘You’re seriously asking me that?’ He laughed breathlessly, ‘I’m okay now.’ You squeezed him tighter than ever before, ‘I love you, Dad. I love you so much.’ ‘I love you too,’ he replied, releasing you reluctantly, ‘and I want you to know how proud I am of you for pulling that off.’ ‘It’s in my blood.’ He put his hands on either side of your face and leaned in to kiss your forehead, ‘I think you should go and speak to Rooster,’ he whispered, ‘we’ll talk more afterwards, okay?’

At the mention of Rooster, all the wind was knocked out of you. All you could do was nod at your father before he headed over to the rest of the squad, leaving you alone in front of the battered F-14. Rooster had jumped out right after your dad, but he’d given the two of you some space. You locked eyes like they do in the movies, but this wasn’t a movie. The world didn’t tilt on its axis or stop turning altogether; it was more like the two of you were the only ones in it that actually mattered. Everyone around you might as well have been frozen in time.

He was taking long strides towards you, but he couldn’t get to you quick enough so you ran to meet him halfway, not stopping until your face was mere millimetres away from his. He was filthy, covered in blood, and sweat and God only knew what else, but you were blinded by the light behind his eyes. You’d always been totally mesmerised by him, but this was something else entirely. It was suddenly very apparent to you that you would do anything this man asked of you, follow him down to the eye of any storm, love him until you took your final breath.

‘Y/N-’ ‘Don’t say anything,’ you interjected, ‘I already know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t wanna waste any more time.’

And before he could utter another word, you pressed your lips to his. The kiss started out soft but then he ran his fingers through your hair and somehow managed to pull your face even closer, deepening the kiss. He ran his tongue along your lips and you parted them for him, finally tasting him the way you’d wanted to for as long as you could remember. Your veins were thrumming with so much electricity you thought your head might explode. When you eventually parted, the space between you was too much for you to bear (you never wanted there to be any space between you and Bradley ever again) so you looped your arms around his neck just like you always did when you hugged him. His face was full of so much adoration, anyone would think you’d hung the bloody moon in the sky.

‘Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?’ he asked. ‘If it’s anywhere near as long as me, we’re going to be kicking ourselves.’ He kissed the tip of your nose and you damn-near melted, ‘I don’t want to go another day without kissing you like that.’ ‘Neither do I.’

You’d forgotten that the rest of your squad was standing a few feet away, waiting to celebrate with you. When you turned around, they were all cheering for you and Rooster and you could just about make out Phoenix’s ‘finally’ over the sound of Payback’s hoots. You knew you had to go over there and that there would be plenty of time to be alone when you got back to San Diego, but you couldn’t wait until then to tell Bradley how you felt about him. If he hadn’t already guessed.

You had to stand on tip toes to reach his ear, where you whispered: ‘I love you, Bradley Bradshaw. To the moon and back again.’ You felt him shiver beneath your touch. ‘I love you too, Y/N.’