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hoshigray · 2 years ago

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Sweet Blind Summer Fling ༄ S. Gojo

"Due to a bet made by Nobara, I made an online dating account to set myself up with a blind date. Although a bit witty and annoyingly childish, Gojo's remarkably handsome and sweet...So, how the hell did I end up sleeping with him on the first date!?"

A/n: Alright, y'all, it's time for the second entry for my summer series!! Not gonna lie, it was fun to write as it's my first time writing for Gojo. I think I did a decent job capturing his character in my style, but you will be the judge of that. This was supposed to be posted on Monday, but I was overwhelmed (had 1 hour of sleep) and dropped something else. But we're good to go now! :) And fyi: there's a bonus scene at the end that sets up the next story as they are connected. Any spelling/grammar errors will be dealt with tomorrow.

Also, guest appearances from my lovely mooties (@cu7ie // @kazushawty // @etherealxmaya // @hqkalon // @yourrfavzxri // @neptunes1nterweb) because I felt like it, lol. Hope this puts a smile on their faces if they see this :3

Series m. list!! This entry has been updated along w/ its contents.

Cw: switch! Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content, so minors DNI - blind date/online match-up - age difference (the reader is at least in their 20s; Gojo is around early 30s) - texting back and forth - sex at a hotel - one night stands - consensual sex under the influence - protected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up) - cowgirl + lotus positions - pet names (angel, baby, dollface, pretty, princess, sweet thing) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - praise - mentions of drug/alcohol use (reader and Gojo don't get blackout drunk, but y'all get tipsy) - a bunch of silliness bc it's a Gojo fic (duh).

Wc: 6.9k (7.4k with the bonus scene...never say I don't do anything for y'all)

Dear Diary...I once again have come to you with more thoughts that cloud my personal judgment. I did not think you'd be of use to me again. But after what happened last night, it's worth having you in front of me and a pen in my hand again once more...

After finishing your finals, summer break has finally welcomed you with open arms. Two semesters of painful studying and sleepless nights have been long forgotten since you turned in your last in-person exam! You've started working at an internship that you've been dying to get, enjoying the new things you're learning from experienced colleagues, and finding love in the field you've grown and studied for this entire time.

In addition, you also have all the time in the world to hang out with your best friends — Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara! Just last weekend, you four hung out at this new sports bar that recently opened and had the most fun experience! Yuuji made new friends with people at the bar who kept buying him drinks; Megumi had to begrudgingly watch over the salmon-haired other to ensure he didn't croak from alcohol poisoning, and you and Nobara took sweet pictures together for your summer album.

It's been a great summer so far. There has been nothing that could bring you down from enjoying this season in the best way you can. Absolutely nothing that could throw you off your summer grove!

However, that's what you initially thought. Because why else would you be in some random hotel room writing in your diary.

To get the full context, I'll take you back to the night I and the gang left the sports bar. We spent the night at Yuuji's as he and Nobara tried to sober up...

It was a chill evening in your friend's place, you and the other three in the living room chatting with the television on low to not disrupt his sleeping grandfather. Yuuji was sobering up by eating bread and drinking water, Megumi was on the couch reading something on his phone, and you were arguing with Nobara.

The auburn-haired other points to you with her index, holding a glass of water. "I told ya, you lost the bet!"

"How!? You literally cheated!" You push her finger out of the way as you two giggle at your complaints. "You kicked Yuuji in the shin to distract him, and I didn't even know I was a part of the damn thing!"

Now your pink-haired friend jumped to say words of his own. "That was foul with what you did; I should've fallen to the floor and acted like I was really hurt. Have you paying my medical bills."

"Blah, blah, blah, sounds like a losers' pleas to me." Nobora rolls her eyes while you and Yuuji glare at her. "And you! You didn't say you were out of the game, unlike Megumi. I said, and I quote: 'When the wings touch the table, the bet is on,' and guess what? By the time the wings got here, I didn't hear a single peep out of you saying you forfeited from the challenge! Once you picked up a single wing, your ass was set in stone!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you annoying bitch..." you groan in your hands as the woman maniacally barks her laughs. "Alright, fine, I ate the shortest portion of wings. Therefore, I, Y/n L/n, declare myself the loser to this fuckery of a challenge. So, Queen Cheater," Nobara snickers to herself at the title you've given her. "What is my punishment?"

You should've known by the evil twinge of your friend's lip that the punishment would be absurd. "I, Queen Cheater," she takes a confident swig of her water before sealing your fate. The words she says next shake to your core, and the decline of your dignity hits you like a bullet train. "...Hereby dare you, the loser, to make an online dating account and find thyself a blind date!"

Your disapproval fell on deaf ears, forcing you to resentfully grab your phone and download a dating app. To make matters worse, you had to make the account with your friends watching (minus Megumi, who still wanted no part in what you all were doing). Once you were done setting up your profile, the three of you looked to the screen to look at the other users, who were also on a quest to find a sense of courtship.

The past thirty minutes have been spent looking at all the users around the area, swiping left and right for those who did and didn't pique your interest.

Todo Aoi (22) "I like 'em tall, with a FAT ASS. If you don't fit the criteria, it's gonna be hard to convince me."

Oh, brother.

Sol (18) "Don't know about a long-term relationship, but we can be chill if ya wanna be friends! :D"

Seems nice. Maybe a chat wouldn't hurt.

Mei Mei (36) Don't ever expect me to pay for the first date or any date. Will you see me again depends on what you have in your savings. ♡

Alright, I appreciate the honesty. But nope.

Karma (20) "Tbh I'm secretly married to my four wives: Hoshi, Maya, Sae, and Zari. But if you look like or are Toji Fushiguro, hit my DMs pronto!! Shhhh, don't tell Hoshi tho, she might divorce me :P"

Okay then—Wait, isn't that Megumi's dad??

Hoshi (20s) Don't listen to Karma. We are very much divorced, and my heart belongs to my one and only: Toji Fushiguro :/

Alrighty then...

Sapphire (19) "Call me MLK, cuz I had a dream about us 🫦"

Fucking no!

Frustration keens in through a heavy sigh. Usually, you'd be happy knowing you can't seem to find a match; however, for this situation, Nobara Kugisaki will not let you off the hook until there's someone worthy of the swipe of invitation. You groan in exhaustion, throwing your head back onto the couch behind you.

With no luck, you decided to call it a night and try again later. So you called an Uber, took yourself home after saying goodbyes to your friends, and reluctantly promised Nobara you'd let her know if you'd get a blind date. With a nice shower and some comfortable PJs, you're now lying comfortably on your bed and looking through all the pictures you took tonight. Then, for some reason, you had the urge to go back on the dating app to look through more users to match up with. Probably because you'd prefer to get this bet out of the way now than later. Regardless of the justification, you spend about twenty minutes swiping and reading through many other people's profiles, and — just like before — not many people catch your eye.

That holds true until you stumble upon a name and description that sparks your curiosity.

Satoru Gojo (old enough to be irresistible; 31) "I was made perfect, I can do everything perfectly, but I want us to be perfect together (･ω<;)☆"

It might've been the use of the emoticon or the confidence that seeped out based on the tiny description. Whatever the case, you stayed on the user's profile for quite a while longer than the others. Even going far as to read his profile thoroughly: knowing what his likes and dislikes are, his height, a fan of Digimon, and so on.

And you contemplated whether or not to swipe him to the side of approval, but you made up your mind after a few minutes of inner discourse. It's not like I'll match up with him immediately. So, you gave him the go and continued on with your search.

Although, that was short-lived because what happened next surprised you to the point that sleep no longer claimed over you.

"Contratz! You've successfully matched with Satoru Gojo!"

Wait, what!!??

You were utterly perplexed by the pop-up showing up on your phone screen. There's no way this was happening, all under the same night, too! And what surprised you the most was the fact that he was awake as well, sending you the first message:

gogojojo: Hey!

Oh, fucking shit. Your body tenses at the greeting, reading his username and message repeatedly. Quickly, you take a few deep breaths to ease yourself before doing something stupid. You answer him with a salutation of your own:

y/ndontwannabehere: Hi there!

gogojojo: A night owl too, huh? Couldn't sleep?

y/ndontwannabehere: Yeah, was just on my phone for a bit, until I saw your message.

gogojojo: Lucky me! I was surprised to have you as a match, I saw your profile about an hour ago.

y/ndontwannabehere: I'm also surprised as well, you're one of the few people who I seemed interested in.

gogojojo: Well, I'm flattered :D Now that you got my attention, what would you like to know about me?

y/ndontwannabehere: Okay...it says you're six-foot-three, how's that like?

gogojojo: I may be six-foot-three, but I'd like to be six feet under you ;3

y/ndontwannabehere: ......

......I regret giving this dude a chance.

Because of the terrible pick-up line, you closed off the app and turned off your phone to switch the lights off and go to sleep. However, another text sends your phone vibrating on the dresser's surface.

gogojojo: Woooow, not even a pity laugh? :/

You shake your head at the notification, but a smile creeps up when you open your phone and tap on the keys to message back.

y/ndontwannabehere: nope, that sucked ass.

gogojojo: Hey now!! >:T you can't say it's ass if it did what it was supposed to do

y/ndontwannabehere: and what's that?

gogojojo: got you here talking with me ヾ(●ε●)ノ

His message makes your smile broader, and you spend the rest of the night talking to Gojo.

It continues for two more weeks, sharing pieces of info about yourselves while rolling your eyes at his annoying jokes and pick-up lines. But for the most part, you enjoy your talks with the stranger on the other side of your screen.

And it all goes swell until he drops this:

gogojojo: Hey! Wanna go on a date with me this weekend?

You were lying on your bed watching Netflix, and you almost choked on your dinner when the message popped up. So in tune with the back-and-forth between you and Gojo that you had forgotten why you made an online dating account in the first place! You grab for your phone to reply:

y/ndontwannabehere: you're serious?!

gogojojo: yeah! I mean, you and I've been talking for a while, I'm kinda into you, plus we could meet up somewhere close. Besides, I would like to see you, and I know you're dying to see me too :)

y/ndontwannabehere: And what makes you think I'd DIE just to see you?

gogojojo: Because why would you not~? You'd be surprised by how many people I've had fallen head-over-heels for me~

y/ndontwannabehere: well, guess I'll be the first one to not be >:3

gogojojo: HUH!!?? Don't say that, I'll cry

y/ndontwannabehere: LMAO grown ass man crying over rejection

gogojojo: Rejection hurts, and I have a weak heart!! :'000

y/ndontwannabehere: Liar.

gogojojo: ANYWAYS! You up for a date?

And that's how you started dressing yourself up on a Friday afternoon, fixing yourself up in front of your bedroom mirror. Checking your phone periodically for Gojo to tell you when he's in front of your home.

You already texted Nobara that you got a blind date, to which she praised you with monumental amounts of supportive text messages and emojis and a text stating she'll throttle you if you don't tell her all about it. It was humorous: you created the online dating account because of a stupid bet for a random date — and now that it was here, you didn't know how to feel. You can't say when was the last time you ever went out with someone, let alone on a blind date! Anxiousness shadows you about the whole thing, but after chatting and getting to know a little bit of Gojo, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad of a date.

After all, the guy seems likable and fun to hang out with based on your interactions. Plus, it's only a date. That's all it is. Absolutely nothing attached in any shape or form.

Thoughts grind to a halt when you hear your phone vibrating on your dresser, a text from Gojo.

gogojojo: I'm here~~~ Ready to fall madly in love with me? :3

Your heart skips a beat at the message, biting the bottom of your lip in nervousness. You send him a reply:

y/ndontwannabehere: Nah, ready to barf right in front of your face :P

gogojojo: Such a rude person :/ Get your butt out here

You giggle before shutting off your phone and grabbing your bag with all your necessary items. Before you leave, you look in the mirror one last time, using this moment to mentally prepare yourself for what's to come. The day has come; you're about to go on a date. No going back now, and I can finally put this dumb bet to rest!

You open your front door and enter outside, the summer heat crawling on your legs from your cute jean shorts and your shoulders excluded from the cream-white cami top. You see a black car — a black 2018 BMW XI — parked right on the street, windows tinted to hide the face you're looking for. But when you draw closer to the vehicle, the passenger side window slides down, and you finally meet him.

The man of the hour himself, the man you've been talking with for two weeks straight, and the man you were about to experience a complete mess of a date with: Satoru Gojo.

"Hey there," his voice was chipper and friendly; his texting style matched his speech. From the window, you can interpret his outfit: a blue flannel shirt covering his white Tee and black jeans with a silver chain emanating from his belt. His eyes were blocked by dark circle sunglasses, making it hard to decipher the color. But his snow-white hair was the first thing that caught your eye, contrasting with the black interior of his car. "Y/n, right?"

You smile at your name. "Correct, Mr. Gogojojo."

He snickers at the use of his username. "You look cute, and I know you like what you see since you were eyeballing me up and down."

"Yeah, whatever." You roll your eyes before opening the passenger door, putting your bag between your legs as you sit down. While putting on your seatbelt, you can feel the bass subtlety vibrate within the car, and the music was...What the fuck? You look at the front integrated head unit on the dashboard and see what artist the man is listening to. "...You listen to Zack Fox?"

"Yeah, I was listening to his songs on my way here! You know his song Marinate?" And before you could answer, the white-haired man sang along to the lyrics. To your perplexity, you just watch him rap along with the artist and the outlandish lyrics. And he just keeps going until the transition to the second verse. "Funny, right?"

"You know," you shake your head at Gojo, whose grin goes wider. "I was about to fall for you until you started rapping the lyrics."

"Whaaaat, he's a comedian, it's meant to be funny!"

"Whatever. Let's just hurry and get this date over with."

"Oh, sounds like someone's ready to be wined and dined by me." He starts the car and shifts between gears. "Don't rush things, princess. Good things come to those who wait."

"Just drive!"

Gojo laughs at your complaints as he drives off on the street. You playfully groan to yourself at your date's antics, looking out to the window to watch your surroundings move past your line of sight.

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"Ever since high school, I would eat a pack of gummies anytime I was doing homework because it stimulates my brain and helps me focus. So by the time college came around, I got so used to eating sweets that I naturally started liking them." Gojo took a sip of his milkshake. "But then, when my best friend and I went to our first house party, I had my first drink. And, Y/n."

"Oh God, what?"

"The taste was so bad that I tried downing it all in one chug. Well, that came back to bite my ass — and my best friend got the worst of it."

"Gojo, what did you do?"

"He was sitting down on a couch talking to someone, and I was behind the couch feeling all squeamish. So, before I could stop myself, I barfed on his hair!"

"Oh, my God, No!!" And the two of you roar in laughter and bang on the booth table you were sitting at.

The date was at an old, vibrant diner in the city where Gojo is a regular customer; the cozy and welcoming atmosphere had you erase any anxious feelings about this date and feel a little more confident. You and Gojo took things slow, you talking about your summer internship and him of his job as a high school teacher.

The conversation started the topic of summer break came to play, prompting you to talk more about yourself and your friends. That flipped the switch entirely as you became more open about your friends and their goofiness. And as a goofy man, Gojo was intrigued with your stories and had him reminiscent of memories from his youth. Although, you've come to find out that Gojo takes his playful nature to a whole other level, and it's been having you two laugh about said foolishness for the past hour.

"The funny thing is, right, he was talking to this sophomore girl that was eyeing him up the whole time we were there," Gojo says through wheezes. "And he was finally talking to this chick, and she was really getting into him. I didn't mean to intrude on his parade or anything, but as my best friend, you're supposed to help me through thick and thin. I was going to ask if it was okay if I headed to the dorm alone while he stayed at this party. And then, vomit happened."

"Ewww, you terrible friend!" You try to eat a fry from your meal, but your giggles make dining difficult. "No wonder he pranked you with a weed brownie."

"Jokes on him; I still nailed my presentation for my exam. I don't remember saying anything I said, but I take pride in whatever I did to get that A." He takes a big bite of his burger and swallows before saying more. "And I started seeing the sophomore girl he talked to afterward, so checkmate."

You gasp at the information and throw a piece of your food at him, which he effortlessly catches with his hand and eats. "You petty bastard! I'm on your friend's side all the way."

"No regrets!" He hits you with his annoying chuckle that has you smiling hard, and the light above your table makes his dark sunglasses shine chicly.

"Oh, yeah?" You inquire. "I bet I could make you regret it."

The man on the other side of the booth scoffs. "Is that so? And how are you gonna do that, my pretty princess?"

You didn't think he'd buy your bluff. So, the truth is, you had no idea of how'd you punish the snow-haired man. Looking around the diner, you scope for anything that sparks a concept. You then turn to his side and notice a booth at the far end. A woman was laughing with her friends and sipping on a cocktail, making a slightly sour face after taking a drink.

And then it hits, along with a sneer, and you peer back to your date.

"You don't like alcohol, right?" He quirks up a brow at your question. "How many times have you had a drink in your life?"

"Three or four."

"Well then, I dare you to drink three or four cocktails. No milkshake or water to help you get through. Just the ice cubes in the drink."

White brows furrow, and even if the shades block them from your interpretation, you can tell Gojo is studying your face in deep thought with your so-called punishment. Ten seconds go by before he scoffs again. "I'll take up on that. On one condition," he leans back on the booth seat. "You have to take the drinks with me as well."

Now it's your turn to raise a brow and think about his words. "You're paying for the drinks."

"Done deal." He pulls his hand outward to you, initiating a handshake to set the seal in stone before continuing on with this game of yours. You happily shake his hand, commencing the punishment to officially start.

One cocktail was a breeze for you but a bit of a doozy for Gojo to stomach; you had to warn him that if he barfed on you, you'd ditch him and block him for life. Two cocktails in is when you begin feeling tingly. Your date was going through it halfway into the glass, so you had to compromise that a glass of water was needed for him.

Three cocktails in, and you undoubtedly feel the alcohol hit you behind its sweet and tangy facade. You can hardly look at the drink, same with Gojo. You two look at each other and shake your heads in disagreement, pushing the glasses to the side and groaning with your now-drunk selves.

Gojo is the first to say something. "As far as disciplines go, that was, without a doubt, one of the worst things I've had to endure."

You giggle. "Honestly. But I—hic! Excuse me. I bet you're regretting throwing up on your friend's hair now. I did it for his sake, after all."

He only looks at you through his glasses. He then gets up from his side of the booth and walks to yours, and you scoot over to let him have a seat. "Nah, don't regret it one bit. Because if I hadn't done it, I wouldn't have you over here laughing and suffering in alcohol with me about it." He maneuvers his hand to rest on your shoulder, and you allow him to move closer to you. "Wouldn't be spending this fun evening with you."

Your eyes hesitantly venture up to his face, welcoming you to the tension that builds up with the lighting and soft music of the diner. His hand rubs on your shoulder in a comforting manner, a gesture you take note of even under the influence. "You know, since you're enjoying having me and all, don't you think I should have a reward for doing your punishment with you."

"And what reward do you have in mind?"

"Can I see them?" You use a finger to motion your own pair of eyes, resulting in the snow-haired man in a short chuckle. But he doesn't argue with you and uses his free hand to remove his shades.

Icy blue is the first thing that comes to mind when you look at his eyes. His orbs are a rarity to the usual crowd, yet they go perfectly with his peachy complexion and pale hair. His orbs hooded and honed in on your figure, appearing soft because of the slight rosy shade of pink on his cheeks. You take in every single feature of his face before speaking.

"Well, I'm starting to see why so many people fall for you, Mr. Gojo." Your face goes hot with the sudden confidence that sneaks within you, yet you continue. "You're very attractive."

He chortles at your comment. "Thanks, dollface. But I don't think it's fair that you only get a reward from me. After all, I almost drowned in alcohol."

You hum. "Fair enough. What would you like?"

His face doesn't change with the following sentence he utters, but you take note of the slight squeeze on your shoulder. "A kiss from the princess would sure warm my heart."

Brows draw upward and breath hitches. A kiss? On the first date? On a blind date?

You don't know what possessed you to do this — it might have been the cocktails. But you incline your face to his and move forwards, your plump lips land on his soft ones for a simple kiss. And with the low hum of his voice, you place another. And another.

When you remove yourself from him, his eyes open to meet yours. A smile gets broader, and so does yours. "You taste sweet," you say.

"So do you." His fingers toy with the strap of your cami top. "Kinda want to kiss you more. And, you know, do a little more, only if you're up for it."

You give him a look. "I believe I just gave you a reward after receiving yours."

"I know, I know," he raises his other hand defensively, but he doesn't remove his smirk. "That's why it's up to you."

You only look at him as he waits for your answer. You already kissed the man; what more is supposed to happen on a blind date? Thoughts on what to do are carefully calculated in your mind, remembering the reason why you're even on this date in the first place. Without Nobara's stupid bet, none of this would be conspiring. Yet simultaneously, it's not like you were having a terrible time. If anything, it was quite the opposite. Not once did you feel uncomfortable around Gojo's presence or feel the need to call off the date. Just enjoying his company and character that attracts you to him more. Even if it means spending the entire night with him.

I'm already deep into this night. What's the use of stopping now.

"So?" Your eyes peer up and down on his figure. "What does 'a little more' entail?"

One moment you and Gojo were enjoying each other's company at a diner, then the date was moved to a different location the next. Now you and the white-haired man are in a cozy hotel nearby. You expressed your worries about Gojo driving you two to the new spot as he still had alcohol in his system. But your complaints fell on deaf ears as he persuaded you into trusting him ("Don't worry, it's like three streets away! Plus, it's almost midnight. No one's on the street." "If you crash us into a pole or something, don't ever ask to talk to me again." "Duly noted~" )

The two of you got yourself into a small hotel room. Soft lighting from the lamps bathes nude bodies lying on the comfortable queen-sized. You mount on top of Gojo, a makeout session warming the two of you up with the exchange of body heat. Sucking and biting each other's lips, his big hand at the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, and the grind of your hips on his firm erection makes the throbbing sensation between your legs flourish with your slick painting him.

His kisses trail down to your neck, and you allow him to venture below your clavicle. Pillowy lips pepper your chest and eventually find your breasts, taking a hardened nipple into his warm mouth.

A sharp cry exits your mouth when Gojo lightly teases your nipple with his teeth. "Mmmm! G-Gojo, pleaseee, I want it," your words come out in whimpers, your body quivering as your cunt brushes against his erect cock shielded by a rubber.

"Is that so, dollface?" He coos at your pleas, his hand running up and down the cusp of your ass and slender fingers teasing your aching entrance every time they draw nearer. "Then go on, ride on my dick like you want to."

His permission has your face go hot, but you station your hands on his chest to propel you upwards, admiring the view of him below you for a moment before lifting your ass. He moves his hands behind his head to relax, signaling you to do the work yourself and at your own pace. And with that, you do.

Your bottom raises until you position the tip of his shaft on the squish lips of your folds. Your breath hitches at the contact of his glans. His smooth voice coaxes you. "Relax, sweet thing. Take your time." You take a few moments to even your breathing and mentally prep you for your following actions. Hips gradually go down and push the cockhead further between your folds. Entry is prompted through the pain with every breath, and a sharp gasp lets you know that his girth finally enters you. And Gojo moans as well.

"Hmmm, that's it." He comments sweetly, his blue orbs tracing the union of your sexes. His hands now snake to your hips, and he throws his head back on the pillow under him. "Ready when you are, princess."

When you're ready, you move your hips downward to take in more of his member, the size of him widening your folds to accommodate the foreign limb intruding inside your vulva. His curve nudging your inner walls has your legs quake, and you concentrate on not being hasty and taking his cock all in one go. So once you finally meet the base, you exhale shaky and use a few seconds for your body to adjust.

Knowing you have the reins, you start to move. You start off with a slow speed, letting the feeling of his dick rub your walls in a steady position. Your whining is muffled with the bite of your lip, but not the man below you. He proudly expresses his pleasure in his moans, the hold on your hips getting tighter.

"Haaahhh, so good and tight," Gojo purrs, egging you to dial up your tempo. He notices you biting the bottom of your lip, and he chuckles. "Come on, baby. I wanna hear that cute voice of yours. Lemme hear it all." He then surprises you with a sudden thrust, evoking a choked cry from puffy lips.

You get the memo then and just let the pornographic noises fly, every moan getting higher and louder with the pace of your hips. His length drilling within you with each intake, and you lean forward for your clitoris to stimulate with the friction, causing you to jerk. You can't tell if it's because of the sex or the cocktails from hours ago making your nerves so sensitive and tender. But in any case, it makes you feel so good right now.

And when you lean back, the feeling gets even more ecstatic, resulting in more mewls from you. His dick goes even further than before, grazing your sweet spots and walls with precision with your increased speed. You swerve your hips in circles, having the man groan. To counter, his hand snakes down to your clitoris to play and pinch on, and you scream.

"Ahhhnn! Haaaah, Gojo! It feels so," the sounds of your ass smacking on his things are now apparent to the ears. The raunchy squelching noises of your cunt embarrass you; however, you can't deny the grip your cunt has on his cock with every rock. Your mind slowly descends into a dreamy haze. "Nnnmph!! Feels too goood, wanna commme..."

He opens his eyes to look at you; the erotic display of your nude body bouncing on his shaft turns him on even more. "Yeah, wanna come with me?" You nod lazily, earning another chortle from the man beneath you. "Alright, stay still for me."

It takes you aback when he suddenly moves up from the bed, sitting with his legs crossed under your ass and his handsome face too close to yours. You instinctively avert your gaze away from the frosty-headed other, bashfully turning your face to the side. It amuses him, guiding your face back to him with his hand. "Hehe, don't be scared of me, angel. I wanna see that beautiful face of yours."

Again, you can't tell whether or not it's the effect of the alcohol, but your face and ears go uncomfortably hot at his compliments. And now that his face is so close to yours, you can clearly take in his features. His sky-blue eyes were extremely fixated with yours, softly hooded with the flutter of his snow eyelids and in contrast with his rosy cheeks. Your heart skips a beat. What is with this beautiful motherfucker?! "Stop flirting with me in the middle of this..."

He laughs at your sheepishness, kissing your cheek. "Flirting with you is what got you here in the first place, baby. Now," his hands slither down your ass, squeezing the flesh with his fingers. "I'm gonna start moving — get ready."

He waits for you to wrap your arms around his neck and lift yourself from his legs before he begins moving his pelvis. The rash jabs of his cock leave you gasping for air and clasping around him. He hisses to your ear with his arms now wrapped around your back as he brings up the rhythm of his hips. You're now forced to bounce onto his crossed legs, his dick scraping your insides deliciously so that you can't think properly.

It's now that everything feels better than before; his member now achieving deeper penetration to the point of hitting your G-spot accurately with the underside of him. You no longer try to suppress the sounds leaving your lips, your wails bringing life to the hotel room. And Gojo's moans get louder and louder when your legs slither around him, and your ass matches the climbing cadence.

"Oooooh, fuck, Gojo! Shit, shit—Mmaah!!" With every rut to your cunt, you can feel the pounding of your head get louder and louder. "Oh, Christ, it feels tew good, so gooood...!!"

"Hnngh, mmmnph!!" Gojo groans at the pleasure, placing his sweaty forehead on yours. His eyes survey your certified expression caused by his touch. He chuckles, "You look so cute jumping on my cock like this. Such a pretty angel."

Timid by his words, you shift your face onto his shoulder to shield away from his line of sight. "Haaaah, stop saying stuff like that—Ahhhhhnnn!!"

You shriek when two fingers come down to your clitoris, the digits swiping and pinching the tender bud. "Hiding away from me again, huh, dollface?" He continues to mess with your clit ensuing in choked mewls and tears streaming down your face, and his hips increase in speed.

Your brain is a mushy mess, fighting the right to form coherent sentences. His fingers go at a hurried pace, abusing your clit. You're so close. Almost there. "Ahhh! Ahhhhh! Go-Gojo, pleaseee, I'm gonna cum—Hmmm!! Ahhaaaaaa!!!"

The peak hits you hard like a train, your body shaking uncontrollably on Gojo and his cock, the walls of your cunt fluttering beautifully on his length. And the contraction pushes him to release, his essence captured in the condom to prevent a spill.

Pants and groans fill the hot space between you two, and Gojo kisses your shoulder as the shockwaves die down with every passing second. A wave of calm covers your body while exhaustion crawls up your spine. You lift your head from his shoulder, and he's met with the most beautiful dazed expression he's ever seen.

"Heh, I should drink with you more often if it means I see you like this." He kisses your nose, and you smile.

"Oh, shut up," you remark breathlessly, and your lips meet his. He kisses you without hesitation, bringing you with him as he lies back on the bed. The sounds of his lips smacking with yours fill the room with a romantic glow, and it stays that way even when slumber claims you both.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

You're woken up by some sort of light on your eyelids and the sound of birds chirping. With a few blinks, your eyes open and are met with the sun's glaring rays peeking through the blind of the hotel window. Begrudgingly, you rise from the mattress and stretch your fatigued limbs. A massive headache greets your head without your consent, pounding it like a drum. The sheet above you slips from your figure, and you find out you slept bare nude.

Too flustered for exhaustion to take control, you grab the sheet to cover your chest, afraid that someone would've seen. The headache vanishes into thin air as you whip and search the room. But there's no one here? And you then notice the blue flannel on the side next to you. The side of the man you were on a date with.

Wait? I was with Gojo last night, right? Questions of the night prior finally come to you. Okay, wait, we went to that diner. Then we had those cocktails, which was a bad idea on my part. So what else? Oh. We kissed. Yeah...we kissed...then I got in his car and drove to this hotel room, and then...And then we.....we—

Unable to complete that thought, a sudden click catches your attention, whipping your head to the hotel door to see it open. And there he is.

Gojo enters the room with his clothes back on, his white tee and black jeans. His shades now block the beautiful eyes you had seen last night — perhaps it was a fever dream, imagining that you did see them. He's holding a paper cup, which you could only assume was tea or coffee. When he notices you, he greets you with a smile.

"Well, good morning, sunshine~" his tone gets chipper the closer he walks to the bed. Placing the cup on the bedside before grabbing for his flannel. "I brought you some tea since I'm sure your throat is sore from last night," your face heats up at the comment. "Plus, I didn't want to leave you empty-handed before I head out."

You blink at him. "You're leaving?"

"Yeah, sorry about that. Remember my friend I told you about last night?" You nod at him while he ties his blue clothing around his waist. "He texted me earlier, saying something came up with one of our other closer friends, and they need my help. He tried calling me, so I had to leave the room to let you sleep."

You hum at his confession. "I see..." How considerate.

"Hey," He climbs on the bed to be close to you. "Sorry that I can't take you back home or treat you to breakfast or something. Maybe next time."

Now that he's close to you like this, you can make out the implications of his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, blue orbs honed in on you and you alone. Your cheeks gradually go warm. "Next time?" You didn't mean for it to be a whisper, too entranced to notice.

He chuckles at your comment, and you swear your heart's beating irregularly. "Yeah, princess. I'd love to see you next time." He draws closer to kiss your forehead, and it takes every nerve in your body to not melt then and there. He then removes himself from the bed, the dent returning to normal now that his weight is off.

Gojo straightens himself and turns away from you. "Alright, I'm off. I'll leave my hotel card by the door. Text me if you need money for an Uber, 'kay?" You hear the door open. "Be good, ya hear!?" He shouts to you from the other side of the room, practically already in the hallway.

"Same to you!" You reply back in the same manner.

"No promises~." And with that comes the sound of the door closing, confirming your isolation in the now quiet hotel room. You're left to properly rekindle everything that led you up to this point, yet even then, you feel so at a loss.

As far as blind dates go — or dates in general — it's safe to say that this was the most bizarre one you've had. Not because anything dire happened. And that's probably the reason why it felt so surreal. You came into this date to release yourself from the shackles of a bet, knowing that you wouldn't see the end of it from your friend if you didn't take care of it with haste.

Nevertheless, thanks to Gojo, it didn't feel like a bet. Not at all. It felt like an actual, fun date with a new person. With a great person at that. Not once did you express any uncomfortable feelings or ill will towards Gojo. And if you did, you're sure he tended to your worries without your knowing.

"I'd love to see you next time."

His words ring in your ear once more, and they resume to do so when you exit from the bed to grab your bag on the chair next to you. You grasp the most necessary item inside — your diary — and sit at the hotel room desk to document your concluding statements appropriately.

...What happened last night was something that I had no vision of seeing. So, now that it did happen, I just feel a little...empty? Probably because I took care of Nobara's bet and don't have to worry about going on another date again.

But, deep down, a part of me wants to do it all again — Not with just anyone, but with him. What we shared yesterday was one of the most refreshing days I've had all summer. Although he was a bit childish for his mature age, maybe that made me like him even more. He was kind to me, funny, and, dare I say, an attractive guy, both in personality and physical appearance.

Thanks for the date, Satoru Gojo. And if you wish to see me again, any time at any place, know that my heart will accept with glee.

˚₊‧꒰ა Bonus ☆ Scene!! ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Gojo exits the hotel room and walks down the hall to the elevator, whistling a tune that only he could understand. He presses the button to summon the machine to his floor, and it comes in a few seconds with the soft ding to mark its risen state. And before Gojo could fully get inside, he sensed his phone vibrating in his right jean pocket.

He grabs for it and stops whistling, tapping on the green call button and placing the device to his ear as the elevator doors close. "Morning, you man-bunned prick."

"It's midday, you blue-eyed sheep." A voice comes from the other side of his phone. "Judging by how you didn't know that, you went out last night, didn't you?"

"That's none of your business~," the white-haired man says in a sing-song manner.

"Shut the hell up~," The one on the phone returns the sentiment. "It's not like I don't know practically every person you screwed in the streets with."

The elevator door opens to the main floor, and Gojo exits to head for the entrance. "Yeah, yeah. I will say this: I had a great time with them."

"You say this about everyone who opens their legs for you."

Gojo sucks his teeth. "Well, this one really had me enjoying myself from start to finish. They were fun to be around. Shit, they even made me drink alcohol."

"Really? And you didn't barf on the spot?"

"Fuck off, Suguru." The one from the phone line — now named Suguru — chuckled at the curse thrown his way. Gojo walks out to the parking lot and enters his car. The phone call is transferred to the car's Bluetooth when the engine starts. "I don't know...They were just great to be around, ya know? Haven't had that in a while."

Suguru hums, vibrating the car with the bass systems. "Think you wanna hang with them again?"

"Mmmmm, I'd like to."

The one on the phone chuckles. "Well, don't get to whipped. Especially since you promised to be at Shoko's beach house this month, we don't want you canceling on us again because someone scheduled you for a dick appointment."

Gojo smirks at the comment. "Yeah, I won't. You'll see me." A few seconds of silence follow through until Suguru asks another question to his friend.

"So? How was the sex this time around?"

With a twinge to his lips, Gojo snickers to himself from reminiscing about the events of last night.

"Man, let me tell you..."

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pink-sparkly-witch · 2 years ago

Text

The Babysitter

Summary: Jared convinces Jensen to go to a bar and have a little fun, but it’s not until he’s driving the babysitter home that he gets the kind of fun he didn’t even know he wanted.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Hot Babysitter for @j3bingo

Warnings: flirting, age gap (20/41), pwp, daddy kink, praise kink, smut, oral sex (m rec), fingering, p in v.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I hope you enjoy this filth! 😘💖

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

“Come on, man!” Jared encouraged. “It’s been a year since your divorce. You gotta get back out there.”

“I’m not ready to date, Jar. I told you that. My focus is on my kids right now,” Jensen huffed, having lost count of how many times Jared had tried to get him to start dating.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything about dating,” Jared chuckled. “I’m talking about going out to a bar, having a few drinks, maybe taking a girl home for some fun. We could go out tomorrow? I’ll be your wingman, just like old times.”

“And where am I supposed to find a babysitter with such short notice, huh? Gen’s away, so it’s not like we can ask her,” Jensen retorted.

“I’ll ask Y/N,” Jared shrugged. “Gen and I trust her completely. She’s a med student and has been watching our kids for a couple of years now.”

“I don’t know, man,” Jensen groaned.

“She’s not a complete stranger to your kids either, you know. Y/N’s watched them before, too,” Jared continued, not taking notice of his friend’s reluctance. “Come on, even if it doesn’t end in a good time between the sheets with a hot girl—which I am all for, FYI, because, dude, how long has it been?—we can at least go out, have a few beers, watch a football game. What d’ya say?”

“It has been a long time since that. And even longer since I went to a bar to watch a game,” Jensen agreed. “And the Cowboys are playing. Yeah, alright, let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” Jared grinned.

“Yeah. Call Y/N and see if she’s free and doesn’t mind a couple of extra kids for the night.”

While driving to Jared’s, Jensen couldn’t help but feel excited for their night ahead. It had been so long since he’d taken any time to himself. He’d been so focused on his kids and work since the divorce and had fooled himself into thinking he was happy. He deserved to have a little fun. He still had a lot of life to live and a lot of love to give, and although he wasn’t looking to date quite yet, if someone caught his eye tonight, maybe he’d get lucky.

Jensen pulled up in the driveway, got himself and the kids out of the car, and went up to the house. With their families so close, the kids opened the Padalecki’s front door and ran straight into the house.

Chuckling, Jensen walked in after them and closed the door behind him. As he made his way down the hallway, a laugh as sweet as honey reached his ears, and he found himself straightening his posture and puffing his chest slightly.

“Hey, man,” Jared said as he walked into the kitchen, where a woman with Y/H/C hair had her back to him. “This is Y/N,” his friend continued, and when she turned around and smiled at him, Jensen’s heart skipped a beat, and everything else Jared said was lost in this stunning woman’s haze.

Y/N was hot and way out of his league, and not just because he was old enough to be her father. She was gorgeous with her big doe eyes, beautiful smile, curves in all the right places—

“Jay? You with me, man?” Jared’s voice pulls him away from his stupor and back to the two people in the room: Jared, with a concerned frown on his brow and Y/N, smirking softly at him and gently chewing on her bottom lip.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. Just trying to remember if I locked the door when I left,” Jensen lied.

“Okay,” Jared said, not sounding entirely convinced but seemingly letting it go. “Ready to go?”

“Sure. Thanks for this, Y/N. I appreciate you taking on another two kids for the night,” Jensen said, finally getting something out to the girl.

“It’s my pleasure,” Y/N smiled softly, and he swore he saw a little bit of flirtatiousness in her eyes.

“Thanks, man. I think this is just what I needed,” Jensen said as he and Jared got into the car to drive home. “It’s been so long since we just grabbed a beer and some wings.”

“It has,” Jared agreed. “It was nice to have my buddy back, but I gotta ask, no interest in any of the women in there? At least five had their eyes on you, man, and some of them were gorgeous.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that, but when I am, you’ll be the first to know.” It wasn’t entirely true. If Y/N were older, he’d definitely try and hit that, but he was far too old for her, and there was no chance she’d want to have sex with an old man.

They settled into a quiet ride back to Jared’s house, filled with light conversation on their plans for a day at the lake with the kids tomorrow.

Pulling into Jared’s drive for the second time that day, both men exited the vehicle and headed into the house and through to the living room.

Jensen stopped in the doorway, noticing that Y/N was watching a movie, her hair pulled back in a messy knot on top of her head, teasing him with her bare, unblemished neck that he wanted to cover in his marks.

He needed to get a grip of himself. And he definitely needed to dig out his favourite porn videos and carve out a little time to take care of himself because this was ridiculous. Y/N was hot; there was no doubting that, but his fascination with her had to be because of his lack of sexual release.

“Hey,” Y/N said when she saw them. “The kids are fine. They’re all asleep in the tent we put up in the playroom.”

“Great, thanks, Y/N. They didn’t give you any trouble?” Jared checked.

“None. They were perfect, as always,” Y/N smiled as she put on her jacket, threw her backpack over her shoulder, and tucked the cash Jared had given her for babysitting into her pocket.

“Thanks again. I appreciate you coming out at short notice and giving up your weekend,” Jared smiled at the young woman.

“They’re good kids, so it’s no problem. Plus, I managed to get some studying done without my roommates being too loud,” she giggled.

“I appreciate it all the same,” Jared nodded. “Hey, man,” he added, turning his attention to Jensen. “Why don’t you leave the kids here for the night? They’re sleeping comfortably, and you’ll be over for breakfast anyway, right?”

“You sure?” Jensen checked.

“Yeah,” Jared confirmed. “No point in waking and upsetting them when they’ll be coming back here anyway.”

“Alright, thanks, Jared,” Jensen said as he slapped his friend on the back, his mind already drifting to those porn videos. “Y/N, do you need a ride home? I didn’t see a car out there, and it’s the least I can do.”

“Sure. Thank you, Jensen,” Y/N replied, a shy smirk pulling at lips.

“How was your night?” Y/N asked as they climbed into his car.

“Good. It’s been a while since I just went for a beer with a friend,” Jensen replied.

“So it was just a drink with a friend? No ladies on your radar? Jared made it sound like you were out on the prowl, and he needed to be your wingman!” Y/N grinned at him.

“Uh, there were a few pretty girls, sure, but I’m not looking for that right now.”

“That’s a shame. I would’ve done anything to get a handsome guy like you to go home with me,” Y/N grinned wider, giggling when his head snapped towards her with his eyebrows practically hitting his hairline.

“Sweetheart, I’m old enough to be your dad!” Jensen spluttered.

“I don’t mind older men. In fact, I prefer them… Daddy,” Y/N looked at him and batted her lashes.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jensen gasped. He couldn’t believe she wanted him. “We can’t.” It was a weak attempt, but he needed to at least look like he was trying to turn down his best friend’s hot babysitter.

“But why, Daddy? Don’t you want me? Was I a bad girl?” she pouted and slid her hand into his lap, palming his hard cock through his denims.

“Shit! We’re really doing this?” Jensen groaned when she squeezed his erection, and she nodded her head.

“If you want to,” Y/N said, dropping her act. “If not, you can drive me home, and we’ll pretend this never happened. But if you want me, I’m yours.”

Jensen was speechless. An incredibly attractive twenty-year-old woman was in his car, calling him Daddy, making his dick harder than it had ever been, and offering herself to him on a platter. He must’ve died and gone to heaven.

“I want you, Y/N. Fuck, I’d be crazy not to. You’re fucking perfect,” Jensen said, looking into her eyes and making sure she heard him. He chuckled when her face lit up at his praise, noting that not only did this girl have a daddy kink, which he’d happily indulge her with, but a praise kink, too.

“Then let’s go home, Daddy.”

“That’s my good girl,” Jensen praised, watching Y/N undo his belt and pants and pull his stiff cock from his boxers. “Open up, sweetheart, let Daddy in.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open, and he groaned at the sight. “That’s it, baby girl,” he praised again, pushing himself between her plump lips.

Jensen moaned deep and long as she timidly closed her lips around him and sucked, gently rubbing her tongue over his leaking slit.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so good at that. You love sucking daddy’s cock, huh?” Jensen groaned when she nodded. “Yeah, I know you do, baby girl. Come on, I know you can take more than that.”

Y/N moaned around him, taking more of his cock down her throat, gagging on his length.

“Fuck, yeah, baby girl. Just like that. So good for your daddy, huh? Are you Daddy’s good little girl?” Jensen grunted as he pushed a little deeper.

“Yes, Daddy,” she gasped as he pulled himself from her throat and grabbed her chin, squeezing gently and running his fingers over her spit-slick lips.

“Do you need Daddy to help you undress, or are you a big girl that can do it herself?”

“I can do it, Daddy,” Y/N said as she quickly stripped out of her clothes.

Jensen groaned as his hands skimmed over her perfect, perky breasts and down her taut stomach. “You’re so perfect, baby girl. Daddy loves this beautiful body,” Jensen rasped. “Get up on the bed, sweetheart, and spread those pretty little legs. Let Daddy get a good look at you.”

Y/N climbed on his bed and crawled towards the headboard. Laying down, she spread her legs wide and smirked at Jensen’s deep groan.

“Good girl,” he praised as he crawled up the bed, caressed his hands over her thighs, pushed them apart and lowered his head to her hot, wet centre. “Fucking delicious,” he groaned, licking from the bottom of her slit to the top.

Pushing through her folds, he moaned when her slick pooled on his tongue, and he quickly lapped it up, licking and sucking and thrusting his wet muscle into her tight, dripping hole.

He moved to her clit, licking and sucking on the tiny bud while his fingers toyed with her entrance, circling it gently before slipping one inside.

“So fucking tight, baby girl,” Jensen grunted against her clit. “Gonna need to loosen you up before you can take Daddy’s big cock in your tight little pussy.” He added another finger and curled them upwards, rubbing against her sweet spot over and over.

“Daddy!” Y/N gasped, grinding her hips down on his fingers desperately.

“What is it, baby?” Jensen asked, looking up between her legs and seeing her desperate little pout. “Is Daddy making you feel good?”

“Yes! More, Daddy, please!” she begged.

“Oh, you sound so pretty when you beg, baby girl, and you know Daddy can’t resist when you beg.” He pulled his fingers from her and sucked her juices from them with a hum before crawling up her body and caging her beneath him.

“Please!” she mumbled again, and Jensen couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Alright, since my little princess begged so prettily, she can have Daddy’s cock in her sweet, tight, perfect little pussy,” Jensen growled and pushed his hips forward.

Y/N’s brow furrowed in pleasure with every inch he pushed inside her. When his hips met hers, and he couldn’t go any further, he groaned deeply at the feel of her tight cunt, stretching and fluttering to accommodate his intrusion.

“Fuck!” Jensen roared. “You feel so good, baby girl. So fucking tight and perfect for Daddy, fuck!” He pulled back his hips and slammed forward again, placing his hand on her stomach and pushing down gently, groaning lowly as he felt himself move inside her.

Y/N’s eyes rolled back, and her hips moved with his. “Fuck, Daddy! You’re so big. Feel so good, so full,” she moaned.

“Yeah? That’s because this little pussy was made just for me, sweetheart.” He’d never felt a pussy so good, and the daddy roleplaying they were doing made everything ten times hotter. “Who owns this sweet little pussy, baby girl?”

“You do, Daddy,” Y/N whined.

“That’s right, Daddy owns it. It’s mine,” he grunted with every jerk of his hips, and when Y/N’s orgasm hit, Jensen stalled his movements, holding himself inside her as her tight walls squeezed and pulsed around his cock.

“Fuck, baby girl! You feel so fucking good. I’m gonna come, sweetheart. You want Daddy’s come, huh?” Jensen chuckled as Y/N nodded desperately.

“Yeah? Where do you want Daddy to come?” he gasped, pulling his hips back and pounding roughly into her still-quivering heat.

“Inside me, Daddy, please! I need it!” Y/N whined. Jensen groaned loudly, pushing himself as far in as he could, and came hard, resting against her cervix.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he gasped when he finally regained his senses and pulled his spent and softening cock from her satiated hole. “That was hot, sweetheart, and something I’d be up for more of with you.”

“It was,” she agreed with a giggle. “Unexpected, but hot, and something I definitely want to do with you again.”

Tags: @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#j3bingo #the babysitter #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen ackles smut

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delusional-fantasising · 5 months ago

Text

Unprofessional Necking

Peter Maximoff x Reader

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: You didn’t think being Hank’s assistant came with another perk, you were supposed to help advance the makings of medicine but there was a certain someone with prying eyes that couldn’t take them off you.

Warning;

Overall: Miscommunication in work place, idiots in love, goofy yet mature Peter, Peter being a hopeless idiot yearning for you, fear of being late, bookshelf nearly falling, Hank not having any fucks to give. Also there is a part in the story where there is a note from me if you are new to me!

AFAB Version: Unprotected p in v, praise, body worship, creampie

AMAB Version: Unprotected anal, praise, bodyworship creampie

Don't be stupid and use protection in real life to prevent std or unwanted pregnancies!

At first it didn’t bother you, those dark brown eyes following every movement of your but soon enough, your heart raced every time he was around. His charm and silly personality getting to you, he made it obvious that he liked you too. Calling you nicknames and trying to ask you out on dates, but to you it felt wrong. Peter was the Quicksilver, Hank’s kinda work friend.

Pushing around the beakers of chemicals and agar plates around is what you were doing, you had to work on finding new ways to advance medicine for certain students who have special ailments caused by their mutations. You felt it again, you were hunched over your desk writing down observations of the molds growing on plates and you could just feel his presence behind you. The feeling of his gaze roaming along your lab coated body.

“You know Mr. Maximoff it is quite rude to just stare at someone and not say anything,” You mumbled, the noise of the pencil of the room was finally companies by Peter chuckling, he was leaning against the doorway while looking at your back. He finally responds with his usual cheeky tone, “Why can’t I just watch the blue furry’s assistant?Also why with the formality? Just call me Peter, we aren’t coworkers or anything.”

“You are my boss’s work friend, there for I have to be professional with you Mr. Maximoff,” You muttered annoyed at how Peter always seemed to be in this flirtatious mood whenever he sees you. He loved pestering you, wiggling into your spaces and your thoughts. He watched you spun around in the desk chair to face him, he was wearing the blue and yellow uniform. He looked so different when you first met him, you were Hank’s assistant for 15 years, starting as an intern then after the apocalypse one of the newest x-men had eyes on you, Peter Maximoff, the Quicksilver. You both were in your early 20’s when you first met now, 10 years later and now both of you are in your early 30’s. Peter adopted a more mature look yet he still had his goofy dork charm.

His silver hair more tussled today as his goggles hung loosely around his neck, he put on the stupid pout and sighed dramatically, “I guess we have to be professional…”

The pout cracked into that smirk as he sauntered over, the sassy walk then he stopped in front of you.

“No one has to know about a little unprofessional loving, Hank most certainly doesn’t need to know about you are necking with. C’mon just one chance sweetheart.” His index finger lifted up, he gave you this look that made you contemplate on letting go of this professionalism and the other part made you want to slap the shit of him. He lowered his hands grabbing the arms of your desk chair giving you a crooked playful grin, to his disappointment though you gave the answer.

“No Mr. Maximoff.”

Peter hesitated before letting go of the chair and stood up straight, rubbing the back of his neck. The smirk was gone momentarily but was replaced with a small smile as he responded, “Yeah knew you would say that but I guess I will try next week. Have a good day sweet cheeks.”

He respected your answer, like the week before, like the week before that week and went on. You did like him back but he knew that maybe one day you will finally let go of the professionalism. He still felt disappointed every time but he knew that one day will be the day.

…

Hank was sick so you were left to manage the lab by yourself completely, you were going to lock the place up for the night. The soft hum of the lights, the clean white tiles, and the smell of cleaning agents all around you. You noticed that you forget to put one of the beakers away, it was one of the stubborn ones because Hank liked placing them on the very top shelf if the glass was clean.

“Just my fucking luck,” You mumbled under your breath, the glass was spotless meaning you had to somehow put it up on the top shelf. You always made Hank put these beakers away but he seemed to leave this one out by accident the day before. You were up on your tip toes, trying to place it up on the shelf. You almost got it up and the entire shelf began to wobble threatening to fall because how you were grabbing onto it. The sound of rattling and you almost dropped the beaker as the shelf began to tilt and began to fall towards you.

It was one of those moments where you didn’t know you messed up till shit goes down south. You opened your mouth to scream but then all the sudden you were sat on a chair across the room away from the shelf. The shelf rattled a bit but nothing feel over. A small gust of wind made your hair fly up, there was Peter. A concerned look on his face as he was also holding a now soiled bouquet of flowers, he was just planning to give you the flowers but he came right on time to use his speedster abilities to prevent the shelf from falling over and put the beaker away on the top shelf for you.

“Are you okay? I just came in here and the shelf was going to fall on you,” Peter began rambling as he set the messed up flowers down on the desk behind you. His hands then went your shoulders, checking for any injuries as if he was worried he was too late and maybe something had injured you. “Peter I am fine-”

“I just I-” Peter kept on going, he never felt the true fear of being late till now, what happened if he was only a few seconds late. That scenario began playing in his mind over and over again like a form of torture but then his thoughts were cut by you grabbing his hands, gently prying them off your shoulders. You made a firm contact and then reassured him, “Peter thank you.”

A few seconds past by and it was clear how much the speedster cared about you but then something came across his mind as a cheeky smile came across his face.

“You called me Peter instead of Mr. Maximoff. Does that mean you are no longer gonna be professional with me?” He cooed as he hoped maybe his good deed can score him that date, you gave him an confused smile and chuckle as you truly didn’t know how to react to his logic. It was so stupid, so idiotic, somehow so cute that he thought that the one deed can change the dynamic. It was so hard not to just say yes.

“C’mon sweet cheeks, pretty please?” He begged playful as he squeezed your hands in his, changing the positioning of both of his and your hands so his was a more romantic grasp. His hair was originally in a neat comb over but now it was in this messier version. (Dark Phoenix version if you can’t visualize it but make it slightly messy.)

“Peter I can’t just-” You began to chuckle and trying to find a way to convince them why they couldn’t pursue anything romantic due to professionalism. He obviously didn’t care, professional was definitely not his style. He lived on chaos so rules rarely went into consideration.

“Why not, please?” He cooed as he brought your hands up to his lips, kissing your knuckles with a sly smirk on his face. Somethings never change about him, convincing this man would take years or centuries. Your heart pumping faster and face was getting a whole lot warmer as you began to just crack. “I uh…”

Peter noticed this, he gently opened your hand and kissed every finger tip then your palm while maintaining this somewhat serious yet suave eye contact. He wanted you, craved you. He thought your eyes were stunning and the way you laugh made his heart beat like a hummingbird. He was whipped and sure it wasn’t the most obvious but in this moment it became clear as day that none of the times of him flirting was ever a joke.

He soon decided to try something more bold, he began kissing up your arm as you struggled to force yourself to stop him. You had to be professional not fall to the temptation, this was like a forbidden fruit you weren’t supposed to take but why does it have to feel so good. His lips met your shoulder before he whispered softly wanting more, “Please, no one has to know.”

…

You shouldn’t have because you had this feeling that maybe it wouldn’t be a one time thing, you allowed Peter into your home. The rush to the bedroom, hands roaming everywhere and the sound of Peter’s soft chuckles. He enjoyed finally getting what he so heavily craved. His hands stopped at your hips and he pulled his lips away from yours, his thumb caressing you, threatening to go under your shirt as he asked, “Do I have your permission to go further sweetheart? I am fine with just cuddling.”

Your voice caught in your throat as this was the moment, what if you lose your job by doing this but hey you were just kissing him so if you lose your job, lose it in lust.

“You have my permission Peter,” You answered finally, the corners of his eyes crinkled up as he smiled. The floorboards creaked and the sound of shoes shuffling around as they were getting kicked off. Peter’s hands on your body with murmured praises, he wasn’t letting his chance go down badly for you, he wanted it to benefit both you and him. His hands slipping the lab coat off, letting it spill onto the floor. Your body bumping onto the ledge of your mattress, your hands cautiously moved along his body, allowing yourself to succumb to your needs.

Passion and romance in the air, Peter was helping you unzip his uniform. The yellow and blue suit being thrown onto the floor with your coat, then joining was your shirt and pants.

Okay quick interruption for my freaky individuals. I will write two parts since I am aware that not everyone has the same parts. I will write one where the reader insert has le coin slot and the other has a joystick. The pronouns will stay gender neutral and the body type i will try staying as neutral as possible, look for a massive paragraph breaks. If I mess up about anything regarding about the female anatomy please tell me, I would rather someone tell me than just let me sit in ignorance. There is an ending to this whole thing fyi so you may have to skip over a bit if you aren’t into f/m or m/m sex or just sex in general, okay resuming back to the story

AFAB version

Peter’s hands roamed along your stomach, his mouth traveling along you neck, his touch practically worshiping every inch of skin he could access. The two of you get into the bed, under the covers as the last few articles of clothing come off. Peter was definitely visibly excited, his cock ready for what Peter called ‘Necking’

It started off slowly, surprisingly coming from Peter but he didn’t just do what every idiotic man driven by lust does and just shoves it all in, he instead starts slowly with just a little bit of foreplay and more praises.

“You look atomic sweetheart,” Peter whispered as his hands caress your thighs, parting them so he could be between them. His eyes wandering around just admiring what he thought was a master piece. The soft vibration coming from his finger tips as they traveled down between your legs to your clit, he wanted you to feel good first. Leaning down to bury his face in your neck as he planted kisses. Your eyelashes began to flutter and everything work related finally left you alone as you allowed yourself to stop stressing.

“Peter…” Soft shaky exhales as your hands went to Peter’s back, nails pressing into his skin with subtle rocking of your hips trying to urge more friction. Your body creating it’s natural lubricant for his waiting cock, he mumbled sweet nothings under his breath or questions; ‘That’s it sweetheart’, ‘Do you like this?’, and ‘You look heavenly.’

The bed creaked under the shifting weight of the two of you as Peter moved himself closer to you, he craved you in so many ways that words and actions could never bring enough justice.

“Peter I am ready for you now,” You murmured as one of your hands ran through his silvery locks, he takes this as a cue to just shift himself closer. His hand stopped vibrating and he used it to guide himself in, easing in with the pair of moan and hushed whispers. Hugging your waist while slowly thrusting, refraining from just going to town on your pussy.

“Fuck mmm- sweetheart you feel so good,” Peter groaned, sounding a little whiny. He loved how you squirmed under him, he made sure to do whatever you needed. Those moans of his name drove him insane.

“Just like that Peter,” You mewled between thrusts, you bet that Peter didn’t change a single thing even when he had the urge to go faster or harder. He adored how you looked in his arms under him, his eyebrows knitted in concentration. The room felt like it was getting hotter by the second, the room being filled with the sounds of sex. Kissing your jawline before kissing you to swallow all those moans made the experience better.

He could feel your body tensing up, on the verge of going over the edge. He loved how you were getting more vocal and how your nails dug into his back. He was going to check out the evidence on his back later, he focused on every little thing about you. Then he stilled after one last thrust, deep in you with a loud groan. Coming down from the joined high, the room was filled with pants. Peter chuckled softly, his dark eyes looking down at you. He had this stupid whipped and dorky smile on his face, there was no way that he was treating this as mere casual one time sex. He was definitely head over heels.

“You are so damn hot and sexy,” He mumbles as he just rests his face into your shoulder, softly kissing your skin. You were just processing the fact you had some ‘necking’. It was definitely mind blowing and you were most likely going to come back for more.

AMAB version

Peter’s ran his hands along your sides before scooping you up by your thighs, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. A messy passionate series of kisses that soon went to your neck and collarbone, his silver hair falling before his eyes. Carrying you over to the bed, getting in and dropping you so you were under him, with him being positioned between your legs.

“You are so atomic sweetheart,” He mumbled between kisses, he could feel the tent in your undergarments and enjoying your body’s reaction to his touch. His hands fondling your thighs, calloused fingers running down your skin. The bed creaked as the two shifted around and you were under the sheets and covers of your bed. The way his hand went to your undergarment, sticking two fingers under the elastic band of the clothing as he gently tugged them off with a little maneuvering around. His boxers also came off as well, you could feel him against you but before he did anything to please himself, you were the number one priority.

He first began by testing out the waters as he used his own saliva as makeshift lubricant since he doubt you had any on stand by for this occasion. It was slow easing two fingers in, the mild discomfort on your face made him pause momentarily to check if you were okay.

“Hey tell me if it ever gets uncomfortable, I wouldn’t want you getting the idea I don’t care about you,” Peter speaks up as he had loving expression on his face, his messy silver hair making him look more softer. His free hand goes to one of your hands, interlocking fingers giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. First it hurt to have his fingers in you but then soon he knew how to work those fingers. Loving how you mewled his name and squirmed just from his touch.

He was worshiping your body, bring the hand he was holding to kiss your knuckles, whispering against your skin praise or asking you simple questions; ‘That’s it sweetheart’, ‘Do you like this?’, and ‘You look heavenly.’

He massaged your prostate with his fingers, his body having the natural reaction to arousal. His waiting cock waiting for a little bit of ‘necking’ then you finally gave him the go sign that you were ready by mewling, “I am ready Peter, please…”

Peter just did what you asked of him, sheathing himself deep inside, every inch filling you to the absolute brim. He started slow but each time it just send waves of pleasure within you because he knew where it felt good. His self control was being tested, he knew that he had to be gentle and needed to be gentle but there was a part of him that just wanted to take you and just go to absolute town on your ass like there was no tomorrow.

Hushed whispers of encouragement and noises of pleasure filled up the room. It just felt so right and nothing could stop Peter, he wants you and he wants you to like him back openly. His eyebrows knitted in concentration, one hand on your hip and the other holding your hand tightly, squeezing it with each thrust.

He loved watching your face contorting with pleasure, he was going to treat you like a god. His lips pressed against your jaw and he hears you whine after a specific deep thrust, “Peter keep doing that…”

He does what you say, it doesn’t take that long till he notices that you are on the brink of going over the edge. His kisses peppering every part of your skin and he practically melts at the sounds you make as you topple over the edge, crying out his name in a way that makes him feel like he wants only more of you.

His thrusts getting sloppy as he witnesses your cock spurt ropes on his stomach and he just stiffens up with a soft grunt. His eyes fluttering as he finishes, there was a standstill where the room was filled with pants. You knew that you didn’t just want a one night stand like Peter, this necking and all the flirting just made it feel like something else had to happen. Losing your job or not.

…

End part

You were strolling to work extremely nervous and paranoid, you felt like everyone knew who you did all weekend long. Entering the cold lab felt like a practical sign that you were going to lose your job.

Hank was working at his desk and just mutters a small ‘hi’, he of course doesn’t know jackshit but it’s the overthinking that makes you walk up to him and start apologising profusely, “Hank I’m really sorry I did something incredibly unprofessional and I just really want to keep my job but I know you want to keep the work place built with honesty!”

Hank was startled and just listened to your rant, he thinks you have lost your marbles and he doesn’t understand why you are apologising. He doesn’t know you slept with Peter, he stops you with a quick wave with his hand and asks, “Please explain what you did, depending on what it is, I can decided on a punishment whether it be having you work more hours.”

“I want to start a relationship with Peter but I know that it’s unprofessional of me,” You blurt out with cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, the blue man just stares at you blankly. Hank quite literally gives zero shits with who you spend time with or sleep with at all, he can’t talk because he has dated a few of his coworkers before too. Peter wasn’t even your coworker.

“I don’t really care, get to work on cleaning the glass slides,” Hank told you as he just gets back to work writing down the data tables for the medicine reports and evidence.

#fanfic #fanfiction #evan peters #peter maximoff #evan thomas peters #my writing #quicksilver #x men #peter maximoff smut #peter maximoff x reader #evan peters x reader #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff xmen #xmen fanfic

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tgmsunmontue · 2 months ago

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Saga of Solitude 20/21

Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA and afterwards. DADT fully in force. IceMav AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version). (Side Hangster, which is ALSO angsty).

PROLOGUE (He remembers)

HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

ONE (2000) TWO (2001) THREE (2002) FOUR (2003) FIVE (2004) SIX (2005) SEVEN (2006) EIGHT (2007) NINE (2008) TEN (2009) ELEVEN (2010) TWELVE (2011) THIRTEEN (2012) FOURTEEN (2013) FIFTEEN (2014) SIXTEEN (2015) SEVENTEEN (2016) EIGHTEEN (2017) NINETEEN (2018)

FYI - this is a 10k chapter so make yourself comfy. Hydrate. Save reading it for later if you need to. Sleep is important etc etc.

CHAPTER TWENTY – 2019

Tom is infinitely glad that he’s highly ranked enough to know exactly what Pete is doing and he doesn’t have to worry about him spilling secrets in his excitement when he talks about the testing schedule. Mach 10 is definitely going to be a feat and he’s so glad there is something to keep Mav busy and, more importantly, happy. Tamsin and Petra are both at college and loving it, their excited phone calls a highlight of his week. Bradley seems… content. Tom suspects he’s still prone to bouts of melancholy, but hopes the therapy is helping.

Life is good.

… … …

“I just worry about him okay?” Pete says to Sarah.

“He’s a grown ass man Pete, and Melissa has him under her thumb. You need to stop worrying about him so much and trust that he can look after himself.”

“I know, I know… just the whole stress of the job thing…”

“And the stress of worrying about you.”

“Hey! He doesn’t have to worry about me!”

“But you somehow have to worry about him?”

Pete hmphs at the sheer logic of the argument, because of all people he thought Sarah would be on his side.

“Fine. Just… “

“We’ll keep an eye on him. Don’t worry.”

… … …

“Seresin! Hey! Wait up…”

He doesn’t miss the way Jake huffs an annoyed breath through his nose, forces himself to not laugh at it, certain Jake will take it the wrong way. And he definitely can’t call him Jake out loud, that’s likely to make Jake take a swing at him.

“What do you want?”

“Just wondered if you wanted to get dinner.”

“With you?”

Yeah, okay, that’s fair he supposes.

“You see anyone else?” Bradley asks, holding his arms out.

“Why should I?”

“Because we work together, and everyone thinks you hate me.”

“I do hate you.” Bradley raises an eyebrow in challenge and just like he thought, Jake scowls, hates being caught out on a lie and Bradley feels a little thrill that he still knows Jake well enough. “I still don’t like you very much.”

“Yeah… that’s… fair. I was kind of an asshole.”

Jake rears back at his admission and Bradley shrugs, because he’s been working through owning his mistakes, and he knows how he treated Jake was far from ideal. And more time has passed and maybe Jake will let him apologize. He’ll keep trying.

“Kind of?”

“Yeah okay. Point made. I was an asshole. I’m sorry. I’m trying to be better. Let me buy you dinner?”

“Why?”

“To say sorry.”

“Is that it?”

“Yeah. That’s it.”

… … …

Jake eyes him suspiciously throughout dinner, but Bradley perseveres; forces himself to make small talk, bringing up funny anecdotes about different deployments, some of the stories a little self-depreciating because he’s sure Jake will like the hubris of it all. He’s seriously not looking for anything, simply wants to make their working lives a little less fraught for everyone, himself and Jake included. The food is good, and it turns out Jake likes cooking, so he asks questions about that, figuring it’s a fairly safe and benign topic of conversation.

“Well Rooster, we’ve managed it through dinner. Seeing as you’re footing the bill I’m ordering dessert.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Bradley says with a wry smile and winces a little inwardly, because that came out flirtier than he intended. He’d been serious that he just wanted dinner, but he’d have to be dead before he doesn’t find Jake attractive. They place orders for dessert and then Jake is leaning back, crossing his arms and studying him.

“What do you think you have to apologize for?” Jake asks.

“Are you serious?”

“Humor me…”

“Fuck… uh. God. I don’t even… I don’t know where to start.”

“Corpus. Start there.”

Fuck. Okay then.

It’s cathartic and embarrassing in equal measure as he lists what he thinks of as his worst transgressions with regards to Jake. Ignoring him. Using him. Sending mixed messages, not that he thinks he did, but feels like he should apologize anyway. He knows he’s probably added some things that he doesn’t actually need to apologize for, however if he’s only going to get one chance at this, he’s going to make it count. Jake’s expression remains unreadable the entire time, mildly amused and quietly calculating.

“Yeah. That’s it I think…” Bradley offers, wonders if Jake is going to start listing off further things and he doesn’t know how he’d feel if he did.

“That’s definitely a list.” Bradley shrugs, takes a sip of water and resists the urge to chew on his thumb nail. “So what happened? Why apologize now? It’s been years.”

“I grew up?” Bradley offers, not really sure if that’s an explanation. Isn’t going to get into the mess of his therapy sessions, not when he fully expects Jake to throw the fact that he even goes to therapy back in his face the first chance he gets. “I did try and apologize a while ago, but, uh…” he flushes, remembers their last ill-advised hookup which had been his most recent attempt at apologizing. It’s not like they’ve ever exchanged numbers.

“You seemed to have your shit together fine ten years ago.”

“I was very good at pretending… scared shitless and looking over my shoulder a lot of the time.” Jake doesn’t say anything, just watches him silently, and he reminds him of Ice in that moment, knows he’s waiting for Bradley to fill the silence. Which he’s not averse to doing. “Uh. I didn’t exactly grow up with the greatest relationship examples… like. They’re together, but they were so careful. They only started wearing their wedding rings last year.”

For some reason that gets a flicker of interest from him and Bradley wonders what rumors Jake has heard and what, if any, damage control he’s going to have to do.

“Maverick and Admiral Kazansky.”

Bradley rears back, eyes wide with shocked surprise, because Jake isn’t asking, he’s stating it like fact. Like he knows.

“You… how do you know about that?” Bradley demands, voice quiet, although he doubts anyone around them cares.

“Because Admiral Kazansky told me.”

“What the fuck… when?”

Jake blinks at him, seems surprised that he doesn’t know all this already.

“About four years ago. Offered to put me in touch with Maverick.”

“What? Why?”

He watches Jake lean back, tongue running over his teeth, expression back to being politely bland.

“Thought Maverick and I might have some common ground.”

Oh.

Fuck.

Jake’s air-to-air kill.

The less than text-book behavior which had resulted in Jake abandoning his wingman. Bradley also knows it’s not as simple as that, because he’d spoken to Slipper a while after and well, abandoning and protecting can look very fucking similar without context. The damage had already been done and Jake had gone from the very innocuous Cowboy callsign to Hangman in the space of a couple of weeks after he’d made some throw-away comment.

Another thing he should probably apologize for.

“I’m sorry about that too, I didn’t think it would catch on.”

Jake’s face scrunches up, shoulder lifts in a half-shrug like he doesn’t care either way, and Bradley knows he does. Pretends he doesn’t, or didn’t. Leaned into the whole thing, let it feed his ego. Apparent ego. He wonders how much of Jake’s attitude to life now is his own doing. Wonders if that’s really self-centered to make it all about him. Something to ask his therapist next month. Like he doesn’t have enough shit to work through already.

… … …

“I really didn’t… I wasn’t… I just…”

“Shut up Bradshaw. Yeah, I get it. But what if I want to?” Jake asks, grinding himself against the swell of Bradley’s thigh and it’s the worst idea he’s had in a long time, and that’s saying something considering he recently played drinking games with Maverick and Tamsin. He can hear his therapist asking him how he feels and he doesn’t even fucking know anymore.

Jake seems angry, and Bradley can’t blame him, notes that even despite the anger Jake’s not impatient. He’s not going to try and figure out what it is exactly Jake is angry about, is pretty sure asking is only going to annoy him and likely make him angrier. He can accept that Jake is likely angry with him. Didn’t want or need his apologies, isn’t sure what he’s meant to do with them. Jake’s fingers are firm, hard enough to bruise as they dig into his hips.

Jake’s groan is low and throaty as he pushes in, Bradley’s skin prickles all everywhere, over sensitive. It’s been a long while since he’s done this and he’s going to be sore and achy tomorrow, but it feels good in all the best ways too. Jake’s grown into himself, broader and taller than ten years ago, no longer inexperienced and unsure. A small part of him mourns the sweetness they’d had, but this… this is good too.

“Uh uh…. No touching.”

Then Jake is shifting, moving Bradley’s legs over his shoulders, his wrists pinned under Jake’s palms. His expression isn’t mean exactly, but it definitely isn’t loving and soft either. As Jake rolls his hips, grinding into him, Bradley can barely breathe, folded in half like he is, pushes against it, chases the sensations he wants. Needs.

“You either come on my cock, or you don’t come at all…”

“Jesus fuck…” Bradley gasps, his cock kicking between them and he doesn’t think that’s going to be a problem. The pace Jake sets is brutal. Bradley knows he’s going to have bone-deep bruises from Jake’s hips with the force he’s using, from where Jake’s fingers are digging into him, holding him in place, and Bradley doesn’t even care. Jake’s stamina has improved, and he wonders for the briefest of seconds when and how. Who. Then Jake twists his hips, still knows Bradley’s body and he swears again under his breath as Jake decides hammering his prostate is his sole function.

He comes with a shout that almost feels like a sob he comes so hard. He’s pretty certain he says Jake’s name but has to hope Jake either doesn’t notice or care during the throes of really fucking good sex. Jake keeps fucking him, chasing down his own release and Bradley just has to go along for the ride, a little oversensitive but too caught up on how beautiful Jake looks when he’s not looking hard and jaded. Jake’s fingers grip him even harder as he comes, grunting with pleasure and breath hot warm across the skin of Bradley’s neck. Damn they’ve still got chemistry by the fucking carrier and then some. God he’s missed this. Not sure if it’s Jake, or their shared history or just the fact that they’re so clearly sexually compatible. It’s probably a combination

He doesn’t know how long he’s going to get this, time when Jake just lets himself rest against Bradley, bodies pressed close and he tries to breath shallowly, tried to commit the smell of them together, to memory. Can feel Jake tracing something on the skin of his upper arm, he’s too sleepy and sated to be able to concentrate, but it’s repetitive. He feels like he’d be able to make sense of it if he were just a little more awake and with it. Then Jake is pulling away,

“This wasn’t the beginning of anything Bradshaw.”

Yeah, he supposes that’s fair, but he can’t help but feel disappointed.

... … …

“Admiral…”

“Yes Aubrey?”

She’s paused in the doorway, expression serious and he pushes himself back from his desk, stands and takes a step toward her.

“What is it?”

“There is a call for you. As next of kin.”

He swallows, fear lancing through him. He’s listed as next of kin for too many people that he loves and the idea of any of them being hurt, or gone. He sits back down and picks up the phone, pulls his own phone out of his pocket where it’s been sitting on silence.

Maverick is missing.

The Darkstar is in pieces.

So is his heart.

… … …

Communication is choppy and he finds out Maverick is missing, presumed dead. He’s given leave immediately, can feel Ice’s hands all over this and fuck. Ice. Tamsin. Petra. He needs to be with his family. He packs on autopilot, has a transport getting him home as fast as possible and right now he’s so fucking glad for all the strings Ice is pulling, the fingers in pies he might have. Everything is hazy as he travels, time not having much meaning and he hasn’t been able to talk to anyone, feels adrift and alone. He’s not surprised to see Melissa waiting for him when he lands. Sarah will be with Ice and the girls. Melissa’s eyes are red, but she’s not looking… sad. She’s grasping him in a hug, arms tight and he’s forced to drop his duffle to return the hug because she’s crying and he’s crying and then against fucking everything she’s laughing.

“What?”

“They’ve found him. He’s alive.”

“What?” Bradley repeats.

“Mav is alive. Pete is alive.”

“Oh thank god…” he gets out, knees weak.

“Yeah,” Melissa offers through a watery smile. “I think Tom is maybe going to kill him anyway. Sounds like he did something stupid.”

“Mav? Doing something stupid? Are we surprised by this?” Bradley asks, the shock and relief making him feel a little hysterical as he brushes away the tear tracks on his face.

Fucking Maverick.

… … …

He knows concussions aren’t avoidable simply out or practice or experience, but he’s still surprised he walks away with no broken bones or a concussion. He hopes the data is good, because if all the safety precautions they build in can mean more people walk away from experiences like that then he’ll continue testing them. The idea that what he’s doing might save lives, might save Bradley’s life or other like him, in the future.

Sure the flying is great, and going fast, so fast, god, but it’s the data that is collected and the people he works with and they’re all working toward a collective goal of making planes better. Not just faster and more dangerous. But safer and more durable, able to protect the life inside. Fuck Cain and his unmanned program. Pete knows it will become an eventuality, but there’s still a significant chunk of time before the technology can actually be considered equivalent to a properly trained Naval Aviator. There’s no question in his mind about it and he’d fight for it. Has fought for it.

Almost died for it.

He hadn’t really thought that through, and he knows Ice is pissed.

Worse.

Disappointed.

That Pete doesn’t take care of his own life and that he somehow treats himself as disposable or easily replaced.

He’d much rather Ice yelled at him. It would probably make them both feel better. Instead Ice’s eyes follow him silently, his hands gentle as he runs careful finger over the bruises and grazes he sustained when he landed. Crashed. Same thing.

“I need to talk to you…”

“Okay?”

“About work.”

That pulls him up short, because their areas of work hardly overlap now, and Ice doesn’t seem at all happy about the fact that he needs to talk to him.

Fuck.

He’s losing his wings.

He’s finally pushed the envelope too far and they’re discharging him and stripping his wings and he’s never going to fly again. He sucks in a breath and prepares for the news like he would for a physical hit, knows it’ll hurt.

“Your… there’s a mission.”

Pete blinks. Frowns.

“What?”

“Fuck…” Tom says under his breath and Pete’s blood runs cold. Ice doesn’t swear as a matter of course, saves it for circumstances which really warrant it. Like when he had cancer. Probably when he thought Pete was dead… and now.

“I didn’t… I… It was a conversation. But then. It… they’re still gathering intelligence. But things will move very quickly if things are confirmed.”

“You’re talking in riddles Ice…”

“It’s all highly classified. It might be nothing. I just. I made a comment that you had experience in every aspect of the potential mission and then they all looked at me like I was… well. I’m not sure if they thought I was a genius or had cursed them all.”

“You… you think they’d need me?”

“I think… maybe?”

“Okay. Well. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it hmm?”

… … …

Bradley pulls the Bronco into the edge of the lot and looks around, it’s a bit busier than he’d been expecting and he pockets his phone. Penny had called him and he’d pretty much dropped everything, because he is definitely the lesser of evils when it comes to picking the girls up from the Hard Deck. Not that it’s something he’s every done before, because Petra wasn’t old enough to drink before now. He walks in and heads directly to the bar. Can see Tamsin and Petra sitting, leaning against each other and giggling and he doesn’t even want to ask. Petra finally being twenty-one is a scary and terrifying thought.

God he feels ancient. He remembers when she was born.

“Thanks for calling me Penny.”

“Anytime Bradley, us Admiral daughters have to stick together.”

Bradley looks over and Petra is throwing back a shot and he turns back to Penny, raises an eyebrow.

“I switched them to the alcohol-free stuff that still tastes like shit about the time I called you. Just… there are some… sharks circling.”

Bradley snorts then, because he’s like to see them fucking try. Even ten sheets to the wind he suspects Petra and Tamsin could both hold their own, their martial arts classes being one of the few things Melissa and Sarah had insisted they both keep up through their teen years and he knows they both still train. He wouldn’t want to take them on in hand-to-hand combat sober or drunk. In fact, drunk would be probably worse because they wouldn’t pull their punches and he’d likely end up in hospital or a eunuch or both.

“There’s my pretty flyboy!” Tamsin calls out, having seen him, and several people look his way.

“Jesus…” Bradley mutters under his breath. He does notice a few people step back from where they were clearly moving closer to Tamsin and Petra, and he narrows his eyes at them, pushes his shoulders back. Is glad Penny runs the Hard Deck and that they came here. He takes the bottles of water Penny hands him with amusement, because yeah, that’s going to be a fun trying to convince them to drink water.

“Ladies…”

“Double B! BB!”

“Yeah, hi. Here. Have some water…”

“I don’t want water. I’m not drunk.”

“Your kidney will thank you. Drink the fucking water.”

“Ugh. Kill joy Bradley.”

“Tamsin, come on…”

“Bradley! I love you!” Petra says, her arms going around his neck, and he shakes his head, because she is definitely needing the water. He exchanges a look with Tamsin and she at least seems to agree, so at least she’s not that drunk.

“Come on Pet… let me get you home.”

“You can’t take me home…” she says with a horrified voice and Bradley snorts.

“Yeah, no shit. You can sleep this off at my place.”

“You’re the best, you know that? I really do love you, you know? Why aren’t you telling me you love me?”

“I love you too. You know you’re the troublemaker though right?”

“No. I had a very strict upbringing you know.”

“Bullshit.”

“Timtam? I love you too you know?”

“Yeah Rara… I know. You’re going to feel horrible tomorrow.”

“Ice is going to be pissed.”

“I don’t care what he says!” Petra declares.

“Your mom is going to be spitting tacks…” Bradley amends, because out of all their parents, Sarah and Melissa are by far the ones he thinks are the most responsible. Maverick would fucking be here buying them more drinks, which has always meant that Ice’s attention has been split to watching Maverick as well as them. He’s been lucky that Bradley was a pretty easy-going teenager really.

“Oh shit…”

“Yeah. I’m glad I’m not you.”

… … …

The beach is fairly deserted, someone with a dog off in the distance and they walk side by side. Mav is stiff as he walks and he knows it’s due to the exploding plane Mav was in. Not that many people know it was him, but Bradley could piece things together even if he hadn’t been called home. And then very promptly given a new set of orders and he knows Maverick has also been called in, and it’s been years since they’ve flown together but he doesn’t know if Ice can cope with them both going off. Likely why they’ve made Mav the instructor, although considering he’s still recovering the idea of him flying an actual mission… ludicrous on so many levels he doesn’t know where to start.

He needs to get this out though. It’s been festering away inside, watching Ice popping gum and antacids because he’s got a stomach ulcer that Bradley isn’t meant to know about but which Melissa had told him about because Bradley has medical power of attorney for both Ice and Mav now. He hates it, but also knows it’s necessary.

“You’re going to kill him,” Bradley states quietly, because Ice’s health isn’t the best and he knows that Maverick acting like he’s expendable is stressing Ice out unnecessarily. Fuck. He doesn’t even know if Ice has shared his current health concerns with Mav, because he’s got a martyr complex a mile wide and wouldn’t want to worry Mav. Insanity. Especially considering how much worry Mav has caused them all in the last few days.

“Do not put that on me,” Mav snaps, and Bradley jerks, surprised at the level of vehemence in Maverick’s voice. He’s not ever been the recipient of Maverick’s anger before. Not anger like this. “He and I both know the risks. Have always known the risks. You should know that.”

“Yeah, and now you’ve made it this far you don’t think you could maybe… I don’t know? Retire?”

The look on Maverick’s face tells him everything he needs to know, that asking him to retire would be like asking him to stop breathing and he supposes that’s fair. Wonders if Ice knows and the realizes that of course he does, it’s why Maverick is still flying.

Fuck.

He drives off and leaves Maverick at the Hard Deck, knows that’s probably going to piss Maverick off even further but he just can’t deal with it all right now. He doesn’t want to have to face the reality that he’s going to have to say goodbye to Maverick one-day as well Ice and it sucks. Feels so unfair after he’s already lost both his parents to make him endure it over and over again.

His argument with Maverick leaves his anger bubbling away and he needs to go spend some time to calm down. He ends up seeking Ice out, wants another person to talk to, one that loves Maverick so will understand but also commiserate with. He’s not surprised when Ice is waiting with a finger of whiskey already in a glass, sitting in his study, and looking at something on his phone. He slumps down in the chair opposite and reaches for the glass.

“I could have poured that for Mav…”

“He hates whiskey. I however…”

“Mmm. Yes. He’s gone to spend the night at the hangar.”

“Oh… for fucks sake. He didn’t need to do that. He’s being an idiot.”

“He’s always been a bit of an idiot. And he knows your temper and his are… volatile. He told me what you said.”

“With some embellishment no doubt.”

“No doubt. However, he is very good at what he does.”

“So are heaps of other people. Ice, you can’t want him taking part in this mission…”

“What I want has taken a back seat for a long time.”

“Then don’t you think it’s time it took priority?”

Ice looks a little sad, reaches down to pat Harley’s ears and Bradley wonders if they should have gotten some pets long ago for the comfort he sees them bring Ice.

“The Navy has dictated so much of our lives, it’s very hard to break that habit…”

“But it might end up killing him. He doesn’t need to fly.”

“Stopping flying will definitely kill him. More so if it isn’t his choice. And I will not make that choice for him.”

“Fuuuck,” Bradley exclaims, frustrated beyond belief but he also can’t be telling either of them how to live their lives. It’s not his life and he’d hate for them to try and tell him how to live his life just as much.

“Yes, that is quite apt…”

“How can you just be… so calm about it all?”

“Years of experience. Also, I have had time to process the idea that I will likely lose Maverick when he is in the air. Every time he comes back to me; I count my blessings and consider myself a lucky man.”

Bradley blows out a breath, because Ice has loved Mav for as long as Bradley remembers, long before he was even aware of them being together. They’ve always been so careful and now they don’t need to be, but they’re still not willing to put each other first. And he can’t even blame them. Doesn’t know what he’d do in their situation. Hopes he never has to find out.

… … …

When he’s thrown out of the Hard Deck Bradley still isn’t really talking to him properly, but he sees his eyes follow him, and Penny’s look and he just waves away her concern. He’ll be fine. He does give into nostalgia and stop to watch and listen.

God Bradley reminds him so much of Goose when he plays.

He hopes wherever Goose and Carole are that they think he and Ice have done an okay job in loving their kid.

… … …

Bradley sits and listens to the mission brief with a sinking stomach.

Holy shit.

No wonder Ice said that they needed Maverick.

When Natasha asks if it’s even possible he feels like he already knows the answer.

It is.

For Maverick.

… … …

He’s not sure how it turns from an apology into another argument, however he probably shouldn’t have even hinted that if the decision was his he’d be grounding Bradley.

That was probably a dumb move.

And a lie to boot.

He might wish he could.

Would.

But he wouldn’t ever do that.

However much he might want to.

… … …

He knows his anger is baseless, that it’s really fear, but he ends up yelling at Maverick and he’s not proud of the fact. It doesn’t help that Jake is here as well, jockeying for position as team lead and Bradley feels sick at the idea of him going and not coming back.

Fuck.

Only a few nights ago he’d hoped he’d never have to think about this kind of situation and yet here he is. Maverick. Natasha. Jake. And Jake doesn’t even like him, he’d be fucked if they were actually anything more. He understands even less how Ice can do it, supposes his service and dedication to the Navy is more than Bradley would ever willingly want to sacrifice. He feels like Death is walking beside him, waiting for someone to take away from him again and he doesn’t know who it’s going to be and he’s terrified, doesn’t want to let go of any of them.

He wants to just lie on the tarmac and have a plane run him over. It would be easier than dealing with everything in his life right now.

“You’re being a dick. Like. A massive asshole. More so than usual. Why?”

He sits back up and braces his arms across his knees and looks at Natasha, wonders if admitting he’s scared shitless would make her stop and pause. Instead he scrubs at his face and stares out into the distance. If anyone is going to understand it’s going to be Natasha; he just doesn’t know quite where to start. And if he mentions being worried about her she’s likely to gut him.

“Uh, well… Mav was in an accident.”

“Like… a car accident?”

“No. It’s classified. Let’s just say I got a call that he was missing and was why I got stateside so fast. I was already here.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. We’re kind of… fighting right now.”

“About what?”

“Ice.”

“That doesn’t help…”

“I think he should retire. Mav that is. I think he’s causing Ice too much stress…”

“Um.”

“I know, it’s just…”

“You cannot tell Maverick what to do. That’s like… trying to stop the moon.”

“I think Ice would say it was like the sun rising or something equally romantic. But… yeah. He’s angry at me. I’m angry at him. We’ll be fine. It’s just…” he sighs “it’s a lot to be dealing with. Even if he wasn’t standing in the front of the class showing us all our flaws in high definition.”

“Yeah. That bit kind of sucks. So you’re kind of pissed off with Maverick. But what has Hangman done to get your panties in a bunch? The way you two talked to each other last night? Holy shit. Way to make things fucking awkward for everyone else.”

He groans again, because his hurt and anger at Maverick had been directed toward the wrong person, and Jake hadn’t known that, although he’d been pretty quick to snap at him and Bradley had just… snapped back. Fuck.

“I know. I can’t seem to help it when he’s around…”

“He? He who? I don’t know if you noticed but there’s a lack of women. You’re going to need to be more precise.”

“Jake.”

“Jake? Since when do you… You… oh my god. You and Hangman have fucked.”

“Yep.”

“When?”

“Uh,” Bradley freezes. Wonders if he should mention the time a few months ago and decides against it. “Few years ago… and a few years before that too.”

“Wait. You’ve slept together more than once?”

Bradley winces, not sure how to answer that, because days spent in bed… he has no idea how to quantify the number of times him and Jake have actually slept together, their lives intersecting and blowing up each time.

“Yeah.”

Natasha is looking like she’s putting some things together.

“Oh shit… can you remember the, uh, first time?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Just. Um. Curious.”

“What? What do you know?”

“Nothing apparently. Certainly not from you. You really need to control your temper.”

“I will.”

She gives him a look and he sighs.

“I’ll try.”

… … …

“I can’t be the only one here who knows that Maverick was the one flying when Rooster’s old man…”

Bradley doesn’t need to think, is up and ready to defend Maverick without stopping to think about it, and of course Mav is there trying to break them up and fuck if it isn’t just a huge mess.

So much for controlling his temper.

… … …

“I thought you and Hangman… got on okay?”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Bradley asks, gingerly touching his nose because Jake didn’t actually swing at him but he’s pretty sure he caught someone’s elbow to his face unintentionally.

“Well, I don’t want to… make assumptions about your relationship.”

“There isn’t any relationship Mav…”

“Really? Sure looks like there’s something going on.”

“Nope. We’ve got a history, but not a relationship to speak of.”

“Huh. Okay then. I stand corrected.”

“Pretty sure Jake hates me.”

“Jake huh?”

“Fuck off Mav…”

… … …

Ice is in hospital with stomach ulcers, having passed out, and here he is watching Maverick fly the course with fifteen fucking seconds to spare.

He’s not an idiot. He knows what it means.

Isn’t surprised at all when Maverick is named team leader.

Now he either has to worry about himself, or Jake.

He’d much rather have Jake safe, and maybe this is how Mav feels, knowing Ice is safely at home and that gives him the bravery to do the really stupid shit he does.

… … …

He kisses Pete goodbye, softly and sweet, doesn’t need to voice anything because they’ve always known what the other was thinking.

Come home safe.

Come back to me safely.

I love you.

All these sentiments silently exchanged with the not-actually-accidental brush of fingers, looks exchanged and held moments longer than strictly necessary, hugs on carriers when their lives have once again been given back to them to live.

He hopes, prays and wishes that their life together is not over yet.

Whatever it takes.

… … …

Pete feels every press in every joint of his body and he knows this might be the last time he flies. The Darkstar followed by the intense training and then showing them that the course could be flown within the parameters he had set. All of that and to now be team lead, to be responsible for so many lives, but also Bradley. It’s the first time that he’s actually felt too old for all this. If he survives this he’s pretty sure Ice will kill him when he admits that Bradley may have had a point.

That worry is quickly shelved as the SAMs kick into action and it’s a flurry of activity and he knows he’s breathing but he also feels like he’s holding his breath, snapping out information and orders, and then he hears Rooster, Bradley, Gosling say he’s out of flares and he doesn’t even think. Is providing the needed cover with flares of his own, knowing he won’t be making it out, but if Bradley does then it’ll be worth it. Sends a silent apology to Tamsin and Petra, but they have each other, their moms. Ice will persevere.

His landing is rough. Not as bad as it could be though, and he’s pretty sure his bruises are going to have bruises but again he feels remarkably spry and figures he can probably thank the adrenaline. The sound of chopper blades have him moving fast, seeking cover and then he hears the F-18, head snaps around and sees the single body.

Mother fucker.

He knows it’s definitely Bradley, starts off at a run, lungs burning. He saw a chute, which means there’s a chance others saw it and it means they need to get moving. As he gets closer he’s not certain whether the relief or anger is going to spill out of him first. He can see Bradley standing, packing down his chute and the relief is immediate, that he is alive and well enough to be carrying out basic tasks. It’s quickly replaced as his anger swells within him. All his bullshit about how Ice would miss him if he died and now he’s gone and done this? Not just him shot down but both of them?

“How dare you! You’re meant to be back on the carrier!”

“You think I could live with myself if I didn’t come back for you? Are you insane?”

“Fuck. Ice is going to kill us. Both of us.”

“Only if we make it back alive…” Bradley mutters and Pete shakes his head, because the dark humor isn’t a great help right now. “Do you have a plan?”

Pete chews on his lips, because he had been thinking, but Bradley being here now changes that, so he recalibrates his plan for two. They need transport, and if he can’t find that then they need resources. And the best place to start is the place currently in chaos, reeling from the missile launch. So in they go.

… … …

“If I make it home I’m retiring.”

“When we make it home. Come on. You absolutely batshit crazy mother fucker…”

Pete grins, slaps Bradley on the back.

“That’s the spirit.”

… … …

It’s a definite party atmosphere on the deck of the carrier, Maverick is clinging to him, hugging him, because they’re both alive and he’s going to forever count those as miracles four and five. He feels woozy but can’t stop grinning, the sheer relief that he’s alive is immense and he’s killed people today, and he’ll think about that later. Or maybe right now, because he feels like he needs to throw up, the pitch of the carrier normally imperceptible feeling like he’s in an inflatable dinghy.

“Don’t you fucking dare die on me Bradshaw, I didn’t just save your life for you to die on the deck of the fucking carrier…”

His vision blurring at the edges and then he’s no longer on his feet, being carried and he blinks slowly, because… is Jake carrying him? Jake is so strong. Mmm. He likes Jake’s arms. He likes a lot of Jake’s body.

“Oh man I wish I was filming this right now…”

“Fuck off. We need to get him to sick bay.”

There’s more talking, some shouts of alarm but he can’t make them out. He’s so fucking tired and he falls asleep.

… … …

Pete doesn’t have a lot of sway or control, but he does convince the Corpsman to let Seresin to sit by Bradley’s side for a little bit, and not only because Bradley has a death drip on his hand.

No relationship.

Right.

They totally look like two people who hate each other.

Then Cyclone arrives and kick Seresin out and Pete decides getting some rest is probably a good idea.

… … …

“Sir.”

“Lieutenant. Come in…”

“Thank you. I just wanted to know if Bradshaw was… well.”

“He has a fairly severe concussion, some bruising and a sprained ankle. He’ll be fine after some much earned rest.” Pete watches as Hangman visibly relaxes, tension leaving him like a switch has been flipped and it makes him wonder. He half-heard what Bradley was saying before he passed out cold, in Hangman’s arms no less. Saw him sit there beside Bradley in silence and he guesses Seresin knew that was something Pete had maybe arranged.

“He was saying some… rather interesting things on the carrier.”

“Was he sir?”

“Mmm. I didn’t realize you knew Bradshaw that well.”

Seresin decides not to say anything to that and Pete decides there wasn’t really a question. He knows that the other Daggers have been using a new callsign for him, and he heard Bradley say it a couple of times, although Pete doubts he’d have said it normally.

“Was there anything else Lieutenant?”

“No sir. Thank you.”

… … …

“Do you know about Seresin and Bradley?” Pete asks and Tom pauses with the milk pouring.

“What about them?” he replies, and he’s been swinging between over-the-top care and then his anger and annoyance will resurface. Then he’ll see Pete wince in pain and he’s back to over-the-top consideration but annoyed by it all at the same time. He loves him to distraction but he damned glad that Pete has agreed to actually retire. He’d

“So there is a them…”

“There… hmm. There is a history between them. Bradley mentioned something in passing and I did a bit of digging.”

Pete raises his eyebrows and folds his arms, because he’s well aware of Tom’s little notebooks and digging and blackmail that he has. Information gathering he calls it. He also knows Tom has a weekly meeting with Aubrey to gossip, sorry, discuss, any issues that might need to be managed. He’s fairly certain if she wanted to, Aubrey could rule the Navy in her spare time. She actually might.

“I’m fairly certain that their history dates back to 2009.”

“What?” Tom doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t have proof that doesn’t damn Bradley as much as it damns Seresin. Not that it damns either of them now. Back then though it would have been career ending. “They’ve been together that long?”

“They’ve never been together Pete.”

“What do you mean?”

“They… they’ve never had a relationship that I can tell. Not with each other.”

“Oh. But…”

“What?”

“Pretty sure they have feelings for each other. Fuck. They were at each other’s throats during training, but Seresin’s face when I picked Bradley… he looked sick. Oh god. I thought we had a long path to getting our shit sorted out… but ten years?”

“You’re assuming they’re going to end up together.”

“You didn’t see the way they looked at each other on the carrier. Only had eyes for each other. Before Bradley passed out anyway.”

… … …

He’s kept under observation for longer than he personally thinks necessary, but when everyone is terrified of Admiral Kazansky there’s no getting away with anything. And he supposes he should actually follow the doctor’s orders and take it easy. It’s only forty-eight hours. The daggers come and visit, allowed in two or threes and it’s nice. Natasha brings him audio books to listen to, the others bring puzzles of basic kids boardgames and they end up playing Sorry for over an hour.

Jake comes with Javy and Natasha the second time she visits in the same day, and Bradley remembers Jake shooting down the fifth generation fighter and saving him and Mav, however after that his memory is hazy at best, has vague recollections of an engine going out which had made Ice go green when he’d mentioned it, so he figures that part is correct at least. Jake brings him popcorn and peanut MnMs, although he eats the candy himself and Bradley feels confused. Not sure if he should be reading into it or whether it’s just a coincidence.

What he learns from all the visits is that Jake has a new nickname. He doesn’t know if it’ll end up being a callsign, but Bradley doesn’t get it. Jake also seems even angrier about this one than he was about the time he ended up with Hangman, and Bradley apologized for that.

Mostly.

Sort of.

But this one seems… okay. It seems far too soft and nice considering Jake’s entire attitude towards nearly everything, but as callsigns go it’s not bad. If he had to make a guess it would be around Jake being his and Mav’s guardian angel or something. Surely it’s better than Hangman? Maybe he liked Hangman and the notoriety attached to it? Fucked if Bradley knows, and no one will tell him. But now whenever someone says it, he does a double take.

Angel.

And they’re talking about Jake. To Jake.

He feels like he’s missing something.

… … …

Pete checks on Bradley daily, and Ice, then Tamsin and Petra, both back at University now. They haven’t told them quite how close both he and Bradley came to not coming back from the last mission. Not only is it classified, but he hates the idea of them worrying. It’s when he catches that thought that he realizes that Ice would have felt the same worry, Bradley as well and god fucking damn it. Of course they all would. Despite everything they love him.

He’s an idiot sometimes but he gets where Bradley was coming from now and yeah. He’s not as young as he once was. His reflexes are still good, but his body is definitely still feeling the repercussions of everything he’s put it through over the last two months. He wants to be able to still walk in ten or twenty years time. Wants to be alive to maybe see grandkids, if any of his kids decide to have kids. That will give him enough excitement to keep him alive, and until then there’s the Mustang.

… … …

He isn’t drinking, is still getting headaches and is tired so often that no one makes a comment about him bowing out early. He’s finally been given the all-clear to drive and tonight is his first taste of freedom in nearly two weeks. Spending time with the other Daggers had been really good. He steps outside and takes in a deep breath, it’s cooler and he can hear the crashing od the waves.

It’s nice.

Quiet.

As he walks toward the Bronco he can see someone looking at it, and he’s gotten used to that now, because it’s a thing of beauty and people have stopped to admire it, because it’s a classic. As he gets closer though he sees that it’s Jake and he can’t help the little stutter his heart does, takes a deep quiet breath and prepares himself for the interaction. Has no idea what way it might go. Jake has been quiet around him, others always there acting as buffers.

“Admiring my ride Hangman?”

Jake turns toward him then, hand getting shoved into his pockets as he turns toward Bradley, eyebrows going up.

“This is yours? What happened to your Audi?”

Bradley is surprised Jake even remembers what kind of car he was driving when they first met, then again, he had given him shit about it, and the memory floats in his brain hazy before snapping into place…

“Why an Audi?”

“It’s the safest apparently. My dad is a little overprotective. Tries to be anyway. It was a graduation gift. Wasn’t going to turn away a free car.”

“Hell of a gift. It ain’t no Bronco though is it…”

“No. I don’t need to drive a Bronco…”

Oh fuck.

He might be a bit of an idiot.

“I… uh. Sold it. Few years ago now… Once this thing was safe enough to drive.”

“You didn’t buy it like this?” Jake asks, eyes flicking between him and the car and Bradley feels like he’s ripped himself open with his self-realization that this fucking Bronco is almost a solid representation of his emotional state over the last decade.

“No. No it was… It was a mess. One of my dad’s friends, he asked me if I’d pulled it from the ocean it had that much rust.”

“You bought a Bronco to do up?” Jake asks, and he’s leaning against said Bronco, arms crossed, looking at Bradley with narrowed eyes. Fuck.

“Yep.”

“When did you buy it?”

Fuck.

Of all the questions Jake could have asked him…

“I, uh, really don’t remember exactly. It’s been a real labor of…” he trails off, able to stop the word before it trips out of his mouth. “Took fucking years because I could only work on it when I was on leave.”

“What year Bradshaw? You’ve probably got the papers in the glove box if you need to jog your memory.”

Jake is of course right, and he also wouldn’t put it past him to break the window and find out. He’s angry about something and Bradley isn’t quite sure how much of it is aimed at him or is even his fault. He blows out a breath and rolls his shoulders back.

“2010.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” Jake mutters under his breath and yeah, he only just made the connection himself, it’s not like he was doing anything on purpose. He hadn’t even remembered the conversation until just now. “You are fucking infuriating, you know that?”

“Uh. Yes?” Bradley guesses, wonders what Jake is getting at. Because he’s sort of annoyed at himself right now, so he can appreciate Jake being annoyed as well.

“Sending so many mixed fucking messages.”

“Uh… am I?” Bradley asks, and he’s serious, because he has no idea what messages he’s been sending, if anything Jake’s been confusing him, with his movie treats and new nickname and the way he’s just been looking at him…

“You bought a fucking Bronco Bradshaw. Spent years doing it up. Never shaved this off…” he reaches out, a thumb stroking over one-half of his moustache, fingers gripping his neck and Bradley hadn’t realized they were standing so close. And he had kept the moustache and another memory floats, snaps into focus before slotting itself away.

“I need a haircut before I report back.”

“You mean I won’t be seeing these beautiful curls again?”

“Nope. And I’ll shave.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Well, you wear that moustache very well.”

“Yeah, you like it huh?”

“Maybe.”

“I grew it on a dare, wasn’t planning on keeping it past my leave.”

“Well, as I said, it suits you. Not many men can wear a moustache and have it make them sexier, but you’re definitely one of them.”

Oh.

Jake’s hand drops from his neck and he misses the warmth. The pressure. He swallows roughly, throat suddenly tight because he really hadn’t intentionally sent any messages, but he can understand now how it might look. And then the continuous circling back and hooking up they’ve done over the last decade. Fuck he’s a mess. He thought he was getting better at shit like this. Wanted so much to get better.

“And then I see you in the Hard Deck leaving with two young women about two months ago, so… Would have thought they were a little young for you… and the wrong gender. But I guess we don’t know each other that well…”

Bradley is already shaking his head, because he’s not slept with anyone since Jake earlier this year, frowns, knows his confusion is probably showing on his face because Jake is rolling his eyes.

“The admiral’s daughter? Daughters? Really Rooster, forgotten them already?”

Oh. Oh shit. Wait. His mind is racing, because he’s talking about Tamsin and Petra, but he also sounds jealous and Bradley can work with that. Probably. Carefully.

“No. No you have the wrong idea there… Fuck. You’re right. We don’t know each other that well. Because those were my sisters. Tamsin and Petra.”

“Last time I checked you father wasn’t an admiral. Maverick might be a legend but he’s still only a captain. Lying doesn’t suit you Bradshaw.”

“I’m not lying. Come home with me right now.”

“So what, I can fuck the truth out of you?”

“No, not my place. Where my parents live… You know about Iceman. He’s the admiral. Their dad.”

That makes Jake pause, his expression stoney, still angry, but Bradley is hoping it’s because he’s hurt and jealous… he needs to show him he has no need to be jealous. That Bradley has been his all along, unknowingly Jake’s even to Bradley.

“Please,” Bradley adds.

“Fine. Once chance.”

“That’s all I need. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.”

He unlocks the Bronco, doesn’t miss the way Jake’s eyes travel over the interior as he slides into the passenger seat. He’s not going to pause to message Ice or Mav that he’s coming around, figures some good honest surprise is the flavor and theme of the evening. As he drives he keeps glancing over at Jake, finds him staring back each time, face impassive like he’s definitely second guessing his decision to get into the truck with Bradley, but Bradley’s glad he agreed. He pulls into the driveway and parks the car, jerks his head toward the house. Resists the urge to go around and open Jake’s door for him. It’s not late, but the lights are on outside and curtains are drawn. He doesn’t bother knocking;

“Pops! It’s just me…” Bradley calls out. “Uh. You want a coffee or…”

“Coffee is fine. Black. Thanks.”

“Cool. Just… uh. Take a seat in here. Or look around. Knock yourself out. Be nosy. I’ll be right back…”

He doesn’t give him time to say anything, just leaves him to the room filled with his history and life and hopes Jake can piece it all together.

… … …

Tom frowns and pushes himself back from his desk. He’s not meant to be working, but he refuses to sit idle, especially given the backlog created by his most recent visit to hospital. He heard Bradley come in, but usually he pops his head in, starts a conversation. It’s out of the ordinary so he goes looking, heads directly for the kitchen, because even as a fully grown adult Bradley is driven by his stomach.

Sure enough he looks into the kitchen and Bradley is there, however he is slowly, but repeatedly, knocking his head against the refrigerator. Huh. Then he hears a quiet what the actual fuck from the living room and he takes steps toward it, wonders who Bradley has brought home with him and why he hasn’t stopped to introduce them.

Oh.

Because he knows Jake Seresin and doesn’t need to be introduced and the fact that he’s here means that Bradley is… oh.

Right.

The head banging makes a little more sense now.

He can give Bradley a little time.

“Lieutenant Seresin.”

It’s incredibly amusing to see the younger man jump about a foot in the air, his expression of anger quickly dissipating when he realizes who exactly has spoken. He keeps his face impassive, but he’ll definitely be sharing the moment with Mav later and laughing about it.

“Admiral Kazansky sir. Hello.”

“Hmm. I’m assuming you’re here with Bradley?”

“Yes sir. He’s, uh, he said he was going to make coffee.”

“Good. Let me know if you need something stronger. And welcome to my home.”

“Thank you Sir?”

“Do you have any questions about any of the photos Lieutenant?”

“Ah… your daughters sir?”

“Yes. My daughters. Tamsin and Petra. Bradley was around thirteen when Tamsin was born.”

“Right. He’s, Bradley that is, he’s in a lot of these photos too.”

“Of course he is. He’s my son. Whenever Maverick was deployed, Bradley came and lived with me and my wife. I was his other legal guardian. He is very much a part of my family.”

“Your… wife,” Seresin says, and Tom knows exactly what picture he’s looking at. A picture of him and Sarah on their wedding day. A photo he only keeps because not only does she look beautiful, but she is the mother of his children and continues to be one of his closest friends.

“Have you ever heard of a lavender marriage Lieutenant?”

“No sir.”

“A marriage of convenience between a gay man and a woman who knows he’s gay. Sarah and I were close friends and I would say we are closer friends now. Bradley’s mother introduced us actually. She married Maverick for similar reasons.”

“Oh…”

“Bradley has, by necessity and then choice, been very secretive about his home life. Some habits are hard to break. He kept his relationship with Maverick a secret the entire time he was at boat school, when he started flight school, only a handful of people knew he was the adopted son of Maverick Mitchell.”

“Why? Why didn’t he just tell people?”

“Because he didn’t want to have people think he got in through nepotism. Wanted to be judged on his own merits. And I could understand that, so I assisted and supported him. He of course was doing me a very big favor as well. Us. He has kept my relationship with Maverick a secret since he realized it was a secret he needed to keep when he was only a teenager. Of course, having us as role models for what a relationship between two men in the Navy looks like hasn’t been…normal.”

“Yeah. No shit.”

Tom raises an eyebrow and Seresin immediately flushes, mumbles out an apology for the language and Tom smirks inwardly. He’s still got it.

“Uh. Hey Ice. You know… Hangman.”

“Yes. I do know Lieutenant Seresin.”

“I, uh, made coffee…” Tom frowns, because Bradley isn’t meant to be having coffee after midday. “I made myself some of that tea you drink.”

“Ah,” Tom says, nods, because he doesn’t particularly like the tea, but he also finds it’s one of the few things that ease his stomach some nights.

“You didn’t offer me tea…” Seresin interjects and Tom watches with interest, because Pete had mentioned seeing them together and this is the first time he’s ever seen them together in a non-work setting.

“It tastes like… dirt,” Bradley says, and Tom would swear he was going to say something else before catching himself.

“Maybe I like the taste of dirt. I should have at least been offered the choice…”

Tom can’t help the way his eyebrows go up, and he looks between Bradley and then toward Seresin. They’re clearly having a whole other conversation and it isn’t about hot drinks.

“I think I’ll go and make myself a cup of tea. Leave you two to… talk,” he states, and he leaves quickly, nodding to them both and saving the shake of his head for when he’s certain they can’t see him. He’s glad him and Maverick have their shit sorted out.

… … …

He’s left standing there holding two hot drinks and he looks down at them, looks up at Jake. He’s studying him, doesn’t look quite so angry, but he’s not smiling. Bradley has no idea what else Ice may have said to him, only heard the tail end of the conversation, something about him not having normal role models or some bullshit. He doesn’t care, what even is normal anyway.

“Do you want coffee or tea?” he asks, gesturing carefully with his full hands and Jake doesn’t move to take either of them so he passes by to place them both on the coffee table, placing them as close to the center as possible to protect it from Harley’s wagging tail, if he decides to move from his basket that is.

“What I want Bradshaw is to know what you want from me.”

“Uh… um. Nothing? You don’t have to give me anything,” Bradley says, and Jake’s eyes flash in annoyance and Bradley reminds himself to not react immediately.

“I know I don’t Bradshaw. I don’t have to do anything. If I want to though?”

Bradley is thrown back again and he remembers the last time they had sex, it wasn’t that long ago in the longer timeline of them knowing each other.

“You said you didn’t want to start anything.”

“No Bradshaw, I said it wasn’t the beginning of anything. And it wasn’t. Then. Now though? Maybe? If we both… want it.”

“Jake…” Bradley starts, and his voice breaks, and he takes a single step toward him, hand reaching and the falling to his side.

“You really fucked me up…”

“I… I didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah. I’m starting to realize that. Maybe we can be fucked up together…”

“You’re not… you’re not fucked up.”

“You don’t know me Bradshaw.”

“I’d like to though.”

“Yeah. I’d like that too.”

TWENTYONE

#Saga of Solitude #IceMav #Hangster #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction

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the-owl-tree · 4 months ago

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It's wild to me that all these years later people are STILL making shit up about Nightcloud. I started writing a whole document about it to just post wherever clearing up misconceptions because good lord 😭 Crystalcolors did irreparable damage to the warriors fandom istg

The most insane take I've seen on her was that she groomed Crowfeather. Yeah. It was argued that "she was a mature older warrior who wanted kits and Crowfeather was desperate to prove his loyalty so she used him to have a family" this was on an +18 (sfw) subreddit for Warriors btw. The people saying this shit were like 20. I have no words

Nightcloud literally appears out of nowhere in Starlight with no mentioned family and by that point Crowfeather is already a warrior (LATE might I add, he was supposed to graduate before arc 2 even starts) there's no way to know how old she is STOP MAKING SHIT UP I WILL EXPLODE YOU WITH MY MIND!!!!

The only real "proof" that we have that Nightcloud is older and wanted kittens is from Cats of the Clans, not any canon source material. Mind you, this field guide is riddled with bias and some really questionable additional information on characters ("Squilf and Brambleclaw are biased, Ashfur's a loyal warrior!" and "Brightheart feels ugly and hideous constantly, she's only beautiful because Cloudtail loves her and he sort of knows how it feels to because he was a kittypet? Don't look too deeply into the horrific implications of this page" and, the infamous "Brambleclaw matches Squirrelflight's fire" AKA he argues with her. all. the. time.).

Nightcloud's page is pretty revealing in the author's bias, considering a majority of this characterization really does not line up in canon-

"If Nightcloud weren't such a huge bitch I'd feel sorry for her. She should be grateful she's Crowfeather's mate and not dead." <- Very normal thing to write, Erins, thank you.

Nightcloud has no confirmed parents, this is entirely retconned in information by whoever wrote this field guide. The idea it should be taken as hard canon when canon actively disproved it is silly. The idea that she groomed Crowfeather, who at the time of their relationship, was a full grown cat (he's a fucking adult at the start of TNP too fyi). The grooming argument is ridiculous, it is just blatant misogyny to make up shit about this nothing ass she-cat character.

Gonna just additionally throw in this post I made covering all of Nightcloud's appearances in Po3-OotS because it's relevant.

#i've no patience for that argument it pisses me off so much #she is a NOTHING character cindy this is BONES this is a SKELETON there is NO MEAT

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smaeemo · 10 months ago

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Season 5 of House was a genuine fever dream.

So just fyi I watched all of season 5 in one day and I am still not totally sure if I have processed even half of it, but like lets get into it.

So SPOILERS in the next part, so QUICK scroll away!

So, ok.

We start out the season strong after learning that Amber died while picking up House from drinking, and because of that, Wilson leaves and tells House that he thinks "They were never really friends,"

House is already going down a dark path of guilt ever since Amber died and has since been drowning in it. But, because this was "technically not his fault" he continues to tell himself such.

Now I don't remember if it was this season or last season when foreteen becomes a thing, but like yeah.

Taub has that whole thing prior to Kutner about how suicide is selfish and terrible and he reveals that he did in fact attempt suicide in med school.

We see that Kutner starts to decline nearing the end, now yes I understand that Kutner was technically written off because Kal Penn was offered a job in the Whitehouse (thanks obama), but lets analyze this as a whole. Kutner, being one of the prime characters that everyone compares to House. One of the characters that is supposed to have an element that most anyone can relate to, a character with a tragic backstory and a reason for how he acts. Another character that acts like House but for different reasons. Kutner at his core, is an enigma that I suppose we as watchers were supposed to unfurl as the show went on. However, we all know that his time was cut short. And I think that in itself this was an accurate representation of what suicide can look like. As someone who has been suicidal and attempted before, what I can say is that most of the time for me, it was on impulse it was at a random time because something set me off. And for Kutner I think it was honestly the fact that he was constantly compared to House (alongside many other things). Imagine that you were an adopted brown person into a white family after watching your bio parents be brutally murdered. You spend your life with an already complex understanding (or lack thereof) of your identity and personality as a whole. We see that Kutner has always had trouble with that (the bullying as an example) and how he is very frequently connecting with patients who he believed were in similar situations that he had been in. Like many kids who had to grow up too fast, Kutner now in his late 20s is just now discovering this ideation of what it means to be a child/have free will. And with this, we see this personality that comes of it, and his lack of understanding of what that looks like. We see him finally taking accountability of his bullying after years (which could also be interpreted as making ammends) and how when the patient tells him he is really not a "people person,"

Kutner's identity his whole life has been practically decided for him, whether it be being adopted into a white family, growing up too fast, being a bully, not being a "people person," or the most prevalent in the show being like House. While House's character and personality is a complex one and romantized one at most, he is a genuinely miserable person who has the goal of making everyone around him miserable as well (whether that be subconsciously or not) House is one of the most complicated and complex people I have ever seen. He is portrayed by himself mostly as someone who is only there to solve puzzles, an apathetic "monster," someone with no morals, etc. And we as viewers are constantly reminded of this in many ways, such as his treatment of patients, Cuddy, Wilson, etc. but we also get to see his more soft and human side. Which the team very rarely sees, given that he hides that from his employees and is also their authority. If anything, constantly being compared to House was something that one could only assume would start to chip away at you especially if there was truth in it. Take foreman for an example, he tried so hard not to be like house, not to be what he feared most, and that was losing his morals, aka becoming what he perceives as house. Then take Kutner, Kutner his entire life has been put into boxes never truly getting a chance to properly form his own identity, and that eventually builds and builds. And I think that from his last case, or something along the lines of it, he discovered that he was too much like house, or that his attempts that finding his own identity were futile. Kutner has a deep rooted unsolved trauma that effected him in his everyday life no matter what he did. And in spite of that and because of it, he acted the way he did, for better or for worse. And all in all, they had to kill of Kutner not only because Kal Penn's job, but also because they could start to humanize and change House's destructive path or at least divert it a little bit.

Kutner and Amber died for House's character development, which is why when House starts to go down an even deeper and darker spiral of guilt after Kutner dies the episodes start getting even more House-centric. This season we saw more human sides of house than we have ever seen before, and we also see what that does to him. Whether that be the methadone arc, or the flagrant disregard for his life, and of course the hallucinations. Kutner's death effected House in such a deep way that he started taking so much valium that along side his sleep deprivation caused his guilt to surface from repression and give him actual hallucinations. Amber being the one he had repressed for too long, Amber being the dominoe that started this whole clusterfuck.

Then of course we have the nightmare (hallucination) that was the last 2 episodes of the season, wherein the lipstick and Cuddy were both being used as metaphors for his own dependency and addiction. Along with the case that argues his "split brain" one side, the creative side making the hallucination telling him that be should become clean and sober and using Cuddy as an example for that. But then the otherside taking cuddy and her lipstick and using it as a metaphor for his obsession. In this season we see House's everything decline as his world falls apart, Cuddy, Wilson, his team, his dad, everything and then we finally see him snap.

House going to rehab what arguably the overarching point of this season, the point being that they slowly send him down a descending path, and then when he gets to the final step he does something, the one thing he can do, which is admit himself to rehab and admit he has an issue. Amber, Wilson, his dad, Kutner, Cuddy, and the hallucination was a wake up call for him and even he knew that early on, hence the one meeting with his psychiatrist. Even then, he knew he needed help. And his breaking point, was seeing Kutner and realizing all of his growth, his whole perception of his "life story" and character development was fake was his last straw.

House finally broke, and that was this season's point. House's pain and guilt finally winning him over, and eventually breaking him.

#smaeemo #ok this was actually unreadable and super ranty but I hope I got my point across #everyone says that s4 was the best season of House and I wont deny that it wasn't incredibly captivating and insightful alongside being an #emotional trainwreck and overall an interesting and unseen level of media #but this season was incredibly different from most things I have seen #where the point and plan of the season becomes so abundant but also hidden early on in the season #I watched all of season 5 in one day and it fundamentally changed my perception of anything I had seen prior to this it #ok normal tag time #House MD #house #gregory house #hilson #james wilson #thirteen house #house md season 5 #season 5 house md

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storiesofoblivion · 7 months ago

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hello tags! It's been a little while since I've been on here, but I'm ready to dive back into the writing scene and looking for some new writing partners on Discord! ♡ please only interact with me if you are 21 + only, also just a small fyi my activity can be a bit unpredictable depending on life stuff, but I’m always around to chat, plot, and create if I’m not writing!!!

I’d love to brainstorm some MUMUs (small town, big big city, holiday resort, band, reality tv show, open for the options), but also happy to keep it small with a singular plot! i just want to get into musings, making some fun pinterest boards, playlists etc! i want all the angst, fluff, pain and smut.

a few plots and tropes which I am begging for and some fcs are below, but i'm open to anything and everything!!! if you're interested, give this a like and i'll reach out or message me! ♡

yearning plot, I just watched the Industry and it gave me the need for a pair who love each other, they completely yearn for each other but they can't be together. if you want your heart to break, listen to the last goodbye by the kills. I have quite a few different thoughts for this, they meet when they're young and they yearn for each other, but life gets in the way and ultimately they don't end up together, they love each other but one of them choses the path which is right for them. We can have them go through the break up and then meet again years across the line where it’s a mix of vulnerability and guardedness as both muses confront their past, knowing that the connection they once had slipped through their fingers. There could be moments of warmth and nostalgia mixed with painful realisations about how much has changed. I just need the angst!!!!

the affair, they’re both trapped in unhappy relationships, finding solace in each other’s arms. But as the passion between them grows, so does the guilt and the looming sense that their affair will only lead to heartbreak—for everyone involved.

trapped in a marriage of convenience, they were never supposed to fall in love. Bound by a loveless marriage for political or financial reasons, one of them has secretly harboured feelings all along. Now, as tension rises and secrets unravel, those buried emotions threaten to tear them both apart.

divorced couple, they are always in each others lives, their is fighting, they can't escape, let's add kids to the mix for the coparenting

the one who got away, this is slightly different to yearning because this couple aren't the same vibe it's a different font okay. They were madly in love in their early 20s, but life and ambition pulled them in different directions. Years later, they reconnect—both scarred from past relationships. There’s undeniable chemistry, but the fear of repeating history keeps them at a distance. Can they let go of their past mistakes and take a risk on love again, or are they doomed to drift apart once more?

the cost of fame, he’s an up-and-coming actor/musician etc, skyrocketing to fame, while she’s still living an ordinary life. They were high school sweethearts, but as his career takes off, the pressure of his public image and constant media attention start to tear their relationship apart. Will their love survive the world of flashing cameras and false rumours, or will fame turn him into someone she no longer recognises??? where will the angst take us??

fighter plot, after re-watching the creed I need a boxer plot so maybe something like in creed where is fighting his way to the top, but his girl can’t handle the fear of losing him to the sport etc

a coffee shop meet-cute, or any meet-cute where it can be something like she's the regular at his coffee shop, always rushing in with a complicated order and a smile that lights up the place. He’s the barista who secretly gives her an extra shot of espresso to brighten her day. After months of shy glances and friendly small talk, a chance encounter outside of the café leads to a series of adorable, awkward dates full of laughs, misunderstandings, and the beginning of something real.

a classic holiday fake dating, one of them desperately needs a date for the family’s holiday reunion to avoid endless questions about their love life, so they convinces their co-worker (or best friend) to pretend to be their partner for the week. Cue romantic holiday moments, cute banter, and the unexpected realisation that maybe they’re not just pretending after all.

I just need anything that is enemies to lovers, anything that is friends to lovers, anything that is forbidden lovers, anything that is exes to lovers to exes again, give me the slowburn, just any of these tropes on repeat

i also do have a wanted plots tag which is here - this has not been updated in a while but i will always want these plots!

some fcs i’ve been wanting to play or have has opposites are below, i'm not limited to them and open to any other options too!!!

drew starkey

oliver jackson cohen

paul mescal

harris dickinson

milo ventimiglia

tom hardy

fabien frankel

theo james

callum turner

dev patel

josh o'connor

alexander skarsgard

boyd holbrook

grace van patten

hannah dodd

phoebe dynevor

adria arjona

bruna marquezine

aslihan malbora

alisha boe

pinar deniz

taylor russell

greta onieogou

lucy boynton

#discord 1x1 #discord rp #1x1 rp #1x1 #discord smut 1x1 #1x1 discord

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philsmeatylegss · 2 years ago

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Hiii I just saw a post Abt the v day video and how it's fucked up and such and I was just wondering why? I found it a few years ago but it was just kinda cute tbh what's wrong with it? Lmao I'm definitely a newer phan, I only started really following their stuff in like 2017 so I don't know too much about early dnp lol

Oh fuck I’m old

I think it’s safe enough to finally talk publicly about it.

Basically the vday video was a video Phil made for Dan for Valentine’s Day. He uploaded it privately onto his YouTube channel which Dan had the password to so Dan could see it. At this time, Dan was on vacation (pretty sure in India) and he wouldn’t have been able to see a video of that quality just through text or email. Shitty luck, the same time he privately uploaded it, infamous YouTube glitch happened where all private videos became public. And one of the videos that went public was the v day video.

There’s a lot of jokes about Dan in 2012, but it’s actually really depressing. Dan wasn’t out yet and he had a fuck ton of trauma surrounding his sexuality. 2012 is when dnp started blowing up enough to where they became part of popular early YouTube so people saved the v day video when it was uploaded.

They’ve only addressed it a few times in which they said it was an April Fool’s prank, which obviously doesn’t make sense, but what were they supposed to say? According to legend, people would keep reuploading the video and Phil would spend hours taking them down one by one and it would say “AmazingPhil took down this video for copyrite.”

It was a catalyst to just a really shitty period for dnp. All aggressively heterosexual clips from Dan’s liveshows are my 2012. “FYI I like vagina” is 2012. People were contacting his 14 year old brother to ask about him and Phil. That alone is both fucked up to drag a kid into this, but remember that Dan still wasn’t out to his family. It was probably so fucking terrifying when his YouTube life, especially regarding his sexuality and relationship, clashed with his family life for the first time.

There’s a noticeable difference between their relationship in videos from 2009-2011 and 2012-2015. And it is most likely because dnp blew up pretty big in 2012 and started going from making YouTube videos for fun to doing it as a job with the added pressure of millions watching. And the catalyst, or at least metaphorical catalyst, from the switch between being openly touchy feely giggles to strict, five feet apart mates is considered to be the vday vid.

It was a big problem in the phandom since it was leaked to around 2017ish. A lot of people were circulating it and word was that they were still being taken down years later, implying that Phil was still searching for the video years later.

The phandom used to be primarily 12-16 year olds. And when you’re that age, speaking from experience, you don’t understand the complexities of the situation and just kinda thought “teeheehee phan is real XD.” When in reality, it was a very sensitive and serious thing that wasn’t meant to ever be seen by the public. It’s literally where the cherry lube and kissing at the Manchester Eye reference is from.

Rightfully so, the video became more and more taboo to mention and most people caught on that it was a shitty thing to upload or share it. It used to be really taboo and affectionately was often referred to as “the video that shall not be named.”

It honestly has a backstory that is so story-like that it seems unreal. So much had to happen for it to be leaked and the impact it had on them was so large it’s like a black hole in phandom history.

It’s possible not all of this is accurate, this is just the basic lore of it. So while I don’t think the internet police will drag you to prison for saying you watched the vday video, this is the context behind it. Do with it what you will.

Spending your entire preteen, teen, and now 20s as a phannie will fry your brain in unimaginable ways. I knew this off the top of my head😭

#I truly don’t realize how much of my life I’ve dedicated to these fucks until I have to recite their lore #this reads like a history textbook #it’s not right #maybe it was the first sign I was destined to be a history teacher #has enough time passed where I can explain the vday vid or will I have to delete this?#asks #dan and phil

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the-crystal-femmes · 2 months ago

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hihi!!!

hru? /nf, curious

uh I'm not sure if this is a welcome thing to ask but we've been gone for.. approx. a year? we can tell that a lot has changed, and we want to ask what exactly has.. changed/been discovered? we just want to be updated so that we don't make any mistakes when interacting further (asks, replies) /genq, vnf, pos intent

it's very understandable if you guys (/gn) don't want to answer. we won't mind /gen

Hihi! We're uh, doing okay, better than yesterday (had a massive headache and it made us super lightheaded)

Uhh, changes.. I'm not really sure what those changes are because we have a horrible memory– but I can try to summarize things! Mainly regarding headmates. I'll try to go back as far as a year if I can remember. I hope you don't mind the public response so others can see this, too. It's pretty long fyi, I think ^^”

Changes regarding headmates;

Pearl

Not much that we can remember. Pearl is a constant co-conscious and has shown to be the second most frequent fronter besides myself. She's usually always here even if not actively fronting

Pearl goes by two names, Dewdrop and aforementioned Pearl. You can choose which name you refer to zem as as long as it's those two names ^^

Ze has a lot more kintypes but we don't really mention them much. Zeir kintype list should be accurate as far as I know

Ula

Ula is mostly the same we think? Ula is noted to be a lot more mellowed out as of lately, more of a peacekeeper in the system than originally. His prosecutor role went to Pearl awhile ago

Ula is transmasc and is currently using he/him pronouns but says he's opening to trying other pronouns as well, thinks he could be genderfluid

Ula and Pearl attempted to merge a few days ago but they ended up splitting apart again. This resulted in Ula transferring some kintypes to Pearl. Ula has more bear-orientated identities nowadays, per example Freddy Fazbear.

River [ Host ]

Honestly not sure what's changed for myself, oof.

Brain made me a Spinel fictive. I enter kinshifts often and my name changes depending on what kinshift I'm in.

Some of my kintypes have also changed and should be reflected on our kintype list ^^

General things;

We have like 20 headmates now. Maybe more? I'm unsure

Sardonyx System is a (mostly) polycule consisting of a few of us. For reference, I (host) am with Ula, Pearl, and Solaris (<- Yellow Pearl fictive), Pearl is also with Greg. I'm the only one with Solaris to my knowledge

We have a Simplyplural if you ever want to request that? We usually only give that privately though :>

Everything on the links in our pin posts should be accurate. For our filter tags we usually have everything also general trigger tagged as well, the only filter tag we still request others use is Pearl's because a lot of it pertains to zeir OCD. I can't remember if Ula wants things tagged anymore

And I suppose I should probably disclaim quick that with interactions, nothing much has changed boundary wise but we always tell others to exercise caution if directly interacting with Pearl (ze's the one who'll sign off with the 🌺 emoji). Ze notes that ze has trust issues and is noted to become hostile easily if provoked. It takes her a bit to warm up towards others especially if she can't remember much from them, we believe this is due to an.. Incident that none of us want to talk about /lh, nav

I hope this was everything, I really can't remember, oof. Thank you for asking by the way ^^ /gen, friendly tone

- 🎪🃏 (<- River)

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thoughtsandbones · 2 years ago

Text

An ex-citing surprise

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!MedicDoc OC (codename: Blue) 💀💙

WARNINGS: Mention of profanity, self harm scars, scars, fluff, panic attack, anxiety, medical inaccuracies and just getting the POV of our friendly neighbourhood masked menace.

Plot: Doctor Ruhari Hari Kaur (OC is South Asian ☺️) joins the 141 again, but this time as their doctor. After the betrayal of Shepherd and Graves, Task Force 141 begins their hunt on his whereabouts and locating Makarov.

PLEASE reblog and like! Hope folks are enjoying the series, I am building up characters and plots, cos I have a lot ideas and just been enjoying writing :D

Song inspo: Bleed it Out - Linkin Park, Shadow of the Day - Linkin Park

Word count: 4.3k

A/N: Flashbacks are getting messed up when I am indenting them and I am getting lots of errors when publishing the work, please bare with some mistakes and spelling issues.

I grew up with the OG MW2 game, so there are some references to the old one, so kind of a mix of both the OG and the new timeline... (Also I'm ignoring the OG Shepherd betrayal and keeping in line the one with the new timeline..)

spelling and some grammar mistakes as I am bad at times... :/

(FYI: bold sentences... that are like this... are supposed to describe redacted data/info to the plot... ;] .. )

Please do let me know how you all are finding this fanfic! :D

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11 and PART 12

Part 13

The birds had begun chirping, greeting the new day. The sun soon started to it's daily early ascent into glorious England in June.

Pollen is going to be high, hay fever season descends upon us all. You think to yourself, grabbing your phone and adding 'hay fever szn' to your adding list of things to be on the look out for whilst being the 141's doctor... and... team member?

Try not to push it, I gotta earn that spot You scold yourself, hitting your head against the pillow underneath; a soft beating.

You had been laying awake for about 20 minutes. Checking the time on your phone, 4:34am.

Might as well get started on the day

Rolling out of bed you then start with the first task, making the bed. A good soldier keeps things neat and tidy. The next task, shower. A cold shower to awaken your nerves.

Once you had showered, gotten ready, braided your long hair first into two french braids and then tying the two together with an hair band, you then had several swigs from your flask. hydrate hydrate hydrate

It was 5:39am, you leave your room and lock your door. You make your way down the stairs at a quick pace, you were nearly at the bottom, only to see the lieutenant descending down the last few steps.

Ghost turned around has heard the quickening steps approach from behind him. It was you, donning black fatigues, green top and black combat boots.

"Mornin' Doc" He said stepping aside to let you come down the final steps

"Morning Sir" You say "How are you?" He was donning his skull balaclava again today, his eyes covered with black paint.

"Good, slept well" He said, who started to walk out of the corridor of the building.

"The medicine worked, that's nice to hear" You respond "Any drowsiness currently?" You

Ghost looks down at you as you walk beside him. It knocked him out that he felt a little cautious

"Nothin' apart from the metallic taste" He replied

You nod "Squash will help"

Ghost nods back, he holds the door open for you and lets you walk ahead, his eyes linger over your back again, the tattoo of yours catching his eye again.

Get it together he snaps

"Trainin' this mornin', 10 minute sprint, basic strength assessment and maybe a bit of sniper trainin'" He says, hoping that'll perk you up a bit.

A smirk appears on your face. "Where do I sprint?" You ask

"On track, I'll time you" He brings out a stop watch that was wrapped around a small burgundy journal. Both of you head of the track, Ghost counts you down and you set off, Ghost keeps his eye on you, your form then glances to his stop watch. As you approach he watches your stern face focused on what is in front of you.

After ten minutes, he blows a whistle and you stop. He walks over to you and hands you your flask. You take a few sips, slowly catch your breathe.

Walking over to the gym, Ghost runs through the tests he wanted you to complete. The gym was partly empty, there were a few soldiers, mainly marines who were up and training, but most of them were commanders as they nodded and saluted Ghost. Ghost nodded back. You were struck with awe of the respect and reputation he garnered, along with Captain Price too.

First assessment was chin ups, how many can you do? Ghost had said to you.

You're gonna be so weak, taking in a deep inhale, you reach for the bar and using your core and arms you pull up, exhale, you felt your arms wobble. Eyes flickering over to Ghost who just held out his stopwatch and then glared at you hanging, feeling your face going red. You try again, and only managed 3 chin ups in total. Feeling so weak, you continue with the next set of commands given out by Ghost.

Ghost watched you struggle lifting the 5kg plate over your head, your legs shaking, knees locking every now and then and arms shaking.

In his notebook he scribbled lacking core strength amongst his other critiques. A small part of him felt he was being harsh, but he knew he had to treat you fairly, like everyone else. Especially since you were going to be coming along with missions so dangerous, he had to make sure you could handle yourself.

"Alrigh' that'll do" He says and watches you bring the weight plate down gently and placing it back where it came from. He sees you take a long swig of water, some of drips down your chin and splashes on your shirt on near your breast. Ghost scans your physique, you were fit, but clearly lackin' in strength.

His eyes go back to the dark patch made by the water droplet, just above your right breast... His eyes lingered too long, when he noticed your eyes narrowing at him, he flicked his eyes back to his notebook, feeling his cheeks become warm and blood rush to his ears. Focus

Is he actually staring at my boobs You think, glaring at him. But then you notice the wet patch on your shirt. That? Or the boobs?

"You were alrigh'" He said clearing his throat "Need work on strength trainin', what exercised you normally do?"

"Running, swimming and Taekwondo" You say. "But it's been a few months since I've done swimming and Taekwondo"

"Righ'" Ghost says, vaguely remembering you doing some sort of martial arts. His memories of you were so misplaced and broken.

"I'll work out a trainin' schedule for you" He adds "We got some martial arts classes, may want to join? After this mission we'll assess sparring" He continues

"Yes sir" You say taking in his assessment of you. Dammnit, you were weak, but there's always room to improve

"Sniper practise next" Ghost says and he walks in front of your to the practise shooting range. Ghost gets a sniper rifle and ammunition and hands it to you.

You head over to a spot and set yourself up. Out of all the guns you tried and used, sniper rifles were your favourite. After setting up, Ghost presses a remote with buttons on it, targets come up and you shoot them down. When reloading, you kept your eye in the scope as you reloaded your magazine.

Very well remembered Ghost thought

Soap had entered the shooting range, he saw Ghost who turned to look at him and nodded and turned back to someone who was shooting. Soap realised it was you. He walked to Ghost and stood by him as he also watched you.

"She's good" Soap says to Ghost

"Gettin' there" Ghost replies trying not to feed into Soap's eagerness

You've ran out of ammo, the targets were shot down. You get back up taking the sniper rile and empty magazines. Checking your watch, it was nearing 8am and you had to go to the infirmary soon, after another shower and changing. And breakfast of course.

"Morning Doc" Soap says

"Morning Soap" You say "You good?"

"Aye, all dandy here" He says smiling at you giving you that same grin when he caught you staring at his naked torso. You look away

Ghost felt stuck in between you and Soap. Soap was grinning like a fox at you and you were staring wide-eyed at the sniper rifle drumming you fingers against the barrel.

"I'm going to go clean this" You say lifting the rifle briefly and walking away.

Soap chuckles and looks at you as you walk away. Ghost figured out he was still teasing.

"What you doin' here Johnny?" Ghost grumbled

"Came to see how our new team member was doin'" Soap quirked, giving Ghost a grin.

Ghost scoffed at him. He looked over and saw you sat down on the benches, cleaning the rifle, like it was something you did everyday.

Soap came closer to him.

"You tell her yet Lt?" Soap whispered.

Ghost glared back down at Soap. Did Price rope him into this now?

"C'mon Lt, you can't leave it til it's too late" Soap said giving Ghost a pat on the arm.

"It's bit complicated Johnny" Ghost said, lowering his tone

"Maybe she needs some good news after Siberia eh?" Soap whispered quickly to Ghost

Looking at Johnny and taking in what he said, he became slightly agitated.

"Take my advice Lt" Soap said finally and patted him on the shoulder and went to the weapons locker to grab a gun for his own practise shooting.

Ghost walked over to you, focused on cleaning each part of the gun thoroughly, he watched your hands use the tools, cleaning each part of the rifle carefully.

"Good effort today Doc" He said finally, you look up and smile

"Just need to work on getting better sir" You say looking back down at the barrel in your hands, polishing it with your cloth.

"I'll email over a schedule before the mission tomorrow" He said

"Thank you sir" You focus remained on the gun.

Ghost felt his right hand twitch, his arm trying to move up to his head. He fought off the urge to try and reveal himself here...

The sudden click of you sliding the barrel back brought him back to reality. He was drawn to your gaze, you look back down at the reassembled sniper rifle.

"I'll be heading back if that's good sir?" You ask

"'Course Doc" He replied and watched you get back up, sliding the sniper rifle over your shoulder, it was a motion you did so casually, you've done it before. You've been here before.

"Come by between 10-12 for your blood pressure check lieutenant" You said, trying not to sound too commanding.

"Yes Doc" He says, he gets up and looks down at you stepping back as you walk to put the rifle away. He sees Soap grin at you again as you leave.

Ghost looks back down at his notebook in his hand and opens it up scanning the list of things he noticed you lacked and needed improvement on.

Soap comes over to him after shooting a few rounds.

"What's goin' on between those gears Lt?" Soap says sitting on the bench.

Ghost backed up a bit.

"Nothin' Johnny" he grunted to which Soap gave him a look that called his bluff and scoffed.

"Yer right" Soap responded "C'mon Lt, what's the worse that can happen?" he added extending his leg to attempting to tap Ghost, but he moved away and sat on the bench opposite Soap and looked around, no one was within earshot.

Soap watched has Ghost scanned with his painted blue eyes the area around him.

"What if she goes-" He trails off and then looks directly at Soap "-gets angry? he finishes

"I doubt it Lt" Soap begins, leaning closer to him "You have yer reasons Simon, she a nice lass, she'll understand" He added smiling towards him, Soap noticed Ghost narrow his eyes and scoffed slightly.

It was the first time in a long time that someone other than Price said his name. He hung his head down briefly and then looked up.

"One can hope eh Johnny?" Ghost responded "We got stuff to do before we leave tomorrow, need to see Doc about somethin' at 11, let's get movin' then" He added getting up, Soap follows him as they leave.

Mean while in the infirmary

It was 9:30am and you sat at your desk unsure of what next to do. Reports were done so far for the team, it's not like you could have a proper in-depth review with them the day before a crucial mission.

'Hey, mind if I draw some blood to further analyse if you have any health issues which seem super trivial to you?' You mutter to yourself in a high-pitched mocking tone. As you twirl yourself around in the chair.

The was a rapid knock on your door, you stopped the spinning motion with your left food and quickly got up and opened the door.

It was Price

"Mornin' Hari" He said smiling

"Morning Captain" You say, moving away from the doorway and letting him walk in, you close the door

"How was training with lieutenant Ghost?" Price said turning back to you, watching as you take your seat and Price sits on the other side of the desk.

"Good, well- don't think I did well in the fitness assessment bit" You sigh leaning back in your chair, but then straightened up a bit, not sure how casual you could be...

"Always room for improvement" Price said chuckling leaning forward.

You sense that Price had an ulterior motive, Siberia...

"Are you here to ask about Siberia sir?" You ask, getting straight to the point, tilting your head back

"Came to ask how would you feel about going back?" Price said, also cutting to the chase. "Laswell wants us to do a recovery mission" He adds

"Shouldn't we be more concerned with tomorrow's mission Cap?" You retort

Going back huh? You wonder

Price leans back, smiling slightly.

"Of course, but you up for it?" Price asks again

"Once you and lieutenant Ghost are happy with my training, then yes." You say bluntly. You weren't going back unless you were at a competent level of being able to look after yourself in that harsh environment again.

"That's the plan" Price chuffed, his objective completed with ease.

"What time are you leaving tomorrow?" You ask "Or is that classified?" you added smirking slightly

"4am" Price said looking out the window, blue skies over base, the distant fields feeling

"Come by my office this evening at 6, we're havin' a pre-mission gathering, tea and biscuits" Price chuffed looking back at you.

"Of course sir" You nod back at him smiling.

After a brief conversation of mission details and what your job was (standby during end of mission for injuries during when they are RTB) Price left the infirmary leaving you alone again. You checked the reports on your laptop again. You click onto Ghost's report.

Much of his personal information was redacted. But you knew his age was 34, which meant he was born in 1988. You hesitated putting this information into the report. Price had told you that Ghost's identity is a secret for a reason.

You went through the other reports for Gaz, Soap and Price. Adding in your notebook things you needed to do, blood tests was one thing.

Sitting back in your chair again, you spin around, enjoying the motion tilting your head back. You stop and then go back to your laptop, after placing an order through the RAMC pharmacy for more hay fever tablets, you lean back in the chair again.

Siberia. Siberia. Your mind wonders back the frozen place.

"Get the disk and get out Blue" echos in your head again, you shake your head and run your left hand through your hair. It was still braided, bringing your right hand up, unravelling both braids, you comb your hair roughly with your hands.

There was a knock at the door, you couldn't be bothered to get up so you simply shouted 'Come in' to the person on the other side. You looked up and saw Ghost opening the door, his entire stature taking up the doorway.

"Alrigh' Doc?" He lets out, breathing heavily, almost like he ran up here.

"I'm good, you okay?" You ask curiously looking at him as you observe his chest heaving.

"Yeah, just jogged here" He said leaning on the med bed whilst you remained seated.

"You can sit back on the bed if you need a breather sir" You suggest

Ghost looks up you, trying to catch his breathe. He doesn't move, continuing to lean slightly back on the bed behind him. It was the nerves and the damn talking Soap was doing whilst they checked their equipment that got him rattled, and you. He felt his chest get tighter, he breathed in but the air didn't help, he could feel his hands tremble against the cold railing. He turned around facing away from you.

You noticed the change in his body straight away, you got up and moved closer to him.

"Lieutenant what's wrong?" You ask, you grab your stethoscope, as you get closer Ghost moves further away, grabbing the railing of the bed for support, his legs tremble. You watch carefully has be bends over, his right hand moving, clutching his chest.

"Let me just che-" You move to him grabbing his shoulder with your left hand but his right hand quickly grabs it, pulling you away from him, his hold on your arm becomes tight, you feel like he was trying to crush the bones within. You didn't wince at the pain.

"Get away" He rasps head bent down trying to control his breathing, pins and needles running up his legs. He could feel the bone beneath as he gripped your flesh.

You narrow your eyes, you stay in the same place, planting your feet on ground, unsure if he was going to swing at you...

"Do you have pain in your left arm?" You ask, his grip on your arms loosens, you pull it back, the gripping sensation tingling lingers.

"No" Ghost let out. "Jus-t- pani-c att-ack" he stifles, struggling to get the actual words out, bending further over the med bed.

You move behind, a few paces back giving him room to move.

"Get up on the bed sir" You say

"Can't legs froz'n" He spat, just then he grabbed the curtain with his left hand and tried to pull it around him, but it only moved slightly. You wanted to laugh at the attempt, but taking it as a sign that he wanted a bit of privacy, you walk over and close the curtain surrounding the bed, Ghost watches, he tilts his head to the side, there's a small gap left and you turn, your back now facing him again.

"I'm going to walk you through what to do sir" You start, standing behind the curtain.

"Okay" He rasps again watching your back from the corner of his eyes.

"Breathe in through your nose for four and hold for four" You add, loudly breathing in from your own nose, hoping he'll follow.

Ghost yanks up his mask and follows, breathing in steadily through the nose, holding for four, and then back out slowly for four. He listens as you do the same.

"Close your eyes and focus on breathing in and out for four" You say calmly, demonstrating by loudly breathing in again.

Ghost closes his eyes, and breathes in for four. He could feel his heart slow down, the pain in his chest subdue. He looks back at you, still there with your back turned, but then you walk away.

No He thought Don't leave me like this

He hears you walk around the infirmary, then the bubbling of the water cooler, and your footsteps approach. He turns, mask half up still, he felt his heart stumble. Through the gap of the curtain comes your arm, your hand holding a cup of water. He felt a warm iciness shred through him.

"Here, take slow sips" You say.

Ghost reaches out and takes the cup, moving closer to the curtain, where you stood on the other side. He takes a small sip from the cup, letting the water pass down him, whilst moving his feet slightly.

You could hear him take small sips, struggling a bit between to take calm breathes. In these situations saying things like don't worry and think happy thoughts felt useless. What personally helped was taking back control of one thing that one thing that makes us

"Need more water?" You ask through the curtain

Through the gap, Ghost's arm appeared, his bare hand holding the empty cup. You take it from him and refilling it and then head back, you put your hand through the gap, this time peaking inside.

You see Ghost standing, leaning back against the med bed. With a quick glance to his face, his fingers were rubbing against bare nose, there was a bit of black paint on his pointed and sharp nose, glancing down at the stubble lining his jaw, you spot the mole on his jugular. His eyes dart to yours and quickly pulls his mask down walking towards your outstretched left arm.

Ghost takes the cup from your grasp with his left hand, with his right he gently takes ahold of your arm. You try to retract your arm, but Ghost lightly grips the same spot, you wince slightly this time.

"I need to check you lieutenant" You slyly say looking at him, he looks back and doesn't respond, just giving you daggers with his blue eyes.

Setting the cup on the empty spot of the tray he lifts the sleeve of your white coat. He sees his red handprint on the top of your forearm, his turns your arm over, on the other side he sees white horizontal scars faintly scattered on your arm, his also sees his fingers marked in red. It'll form into a bruise he thought

Guilt was riling up in him again. He looked up at you, remaining stoic.

"It just needs some ice, not even that" You pulling your hand back to you. Ghost watches as you pull away from him, no anger coming from you, you smile slightly at him.

"You feeling okay?" You ask, face now shifting to concern.

"Alrigh'" He grumbled. He couldn't get the words out to say his was sorry. He couldn't get the words out that said sorry for grabbing you. He was at a loss when he was with you.

You pull back the curtain and you watch as Ghost sits up on the bed, taking his black sweater off, revealing a think black t-shirt. You could see the outline of his shoulder muscles and the name tags underneath the thin black layer.

"Check you blood pressure then if it's okay to check your heart and breathing?" you say motioning with to your stethoscope around your neck.

"Yeah" Ghost says as you bring the blood pressure machine next to him. As you wrap the cuff around this left arm your cold hand brushes against his skin.

Taking the reading again, 132/80.

You frown and look up at him.

"Still high then?" He asks looking at you and then at the flashing numbers

"Given you had a panic attack, there would be a spike in blood pressure" You say "But it's lower than yesterday" You add smiling at him.

Ghost watches as you get up head to your desk, writing in on a post it and then sticking it in your journal.

"I'm sorry doc" Ghost said "Abou' your arm, didn' mean to hurt you" he added looking at you as you look up.

"Don't worry, it's not broken" You say smiling. You look at Ghost and he looks back down, his shoulders hunched over

Perhaps some tea will help? You wonder

"Would you fanc-" You start, Ghost looks up at you as you begin to ask him something, but there was loud knocking on the door both of you look at the door, you roll your eyes and get off the chair.

"Just a minute" You call out looking at the door and then back at Ghost.

"I should get goin'" He said, putting his sweater on and getting up from the med bed. He looks over at you, your mouth open, as if you wanted to say something, but the person behind the door was knocking again.

"Wait one sec" You say then scrunching your face towards the door, you open the door and there stood a tall blonde haired woman wearing the same blue scrubs and white coat. Looking at the face of the woman standing in front of you your jaw dropped.

"Hey girly girl!" The woman said, slight Texan accent, brightly smiling and shaking her blonde hair that reached the edge of her jaw.

Your ex.

"What the fuck" You exclaim loudly

Ghost was surprised by the harshness in which you swore. He took a step forward to see who was at the door. A woman with blonde hair wearing the same clothes as you. His eyes met hers. She looked at him and smiled.

"Sorry, I'll come back later Ru" She said smiling at you and then at Ghost

"Dr Marie, it's Dr Kaur" You snap

"Dr Marie?!" She snorts "Jeez I'm your ex not your oncologist" She laughs

Ghost took in the words your ex...

This is her... He thinks scanning her

"Not now Peyton, I'm working" You snap back shoving her away from the door with your hands. Peyton laughs and walks away as you close the door. You lean back against the door sighing, hitting your head against the door.

"That is.." Ghost starts looking at you, crossing his arms across his chest.

"The succubus that is my ex" You say meeting your eyes with his.

He tried to suppress a snort. But ended doing snort/scoff out of his nose. He walks closer to you.

"Guessin' you didn't know she works here?" He asks only a few steps away from you now

"Knew she worked with RAMC, but didn't know it was this base" You say bitterly scrunching your nose whilst looking at Ghost.

"Hmm" Ghost said, continuing to look down at you.

You move aside and open the door slightly, allowing the lieutenant to leave. But he doesn't move. You close the door again, savouring the moment between the two of you.

"Sure it ain't broken" he says motioning towards your arm. You look back him, bringing your left arm and give him a jazz hand.

"It'll just bruise" You say "Don't worry about it" You add smiling at him.

He looks down cautiously at you. He hurt you and you are trying to be brave about it.

"Ain't lyin' to me doc?" He asks, stepping closer to you, towering over you.

You straighten up, lifting your head up curtly and tilting it to the side.

"No, but you owe me cup of tea" You say smirking testing the ground, trying to be playful with him.

"Owe you a Yorkshire Tea" He says nodding at you, Ghost heads to the door and you open it for him, watching as you smile at him. Leaving the infirmary he watches as you close the door.

Down the corridor he sees the same blonde woman, leaning against the door of your quarters. She looks at him and gets up walking up to him.

"She free now?" She asks him pointing to the door of the infirmary

"Yeah" Ghost grunts, looking down at the woman in front, she had a grin like a cheshire cat on her face.

"Wonderful" She grins, her blue eyes boring into his, he watches as she opens the door and walks in

"Oh piss off-" You moan aloud from the inside and then the door closes, Ghost walks closer to the door trying to listen in. All he could hear was muffled bickering and then some laughing. He sighed and walked away.

He walked down to his room and let himself in. Looking down at his right hand, he gripped it tightly.

How fuckin' stupid was I to grab her he scolded to himself kicking the leg of his desk as he walked to the bathroom.

But what was more interesting was the return of your ex. Ghost takes off his mask and looks at himself in the bathroom mirror, then grabs his bar of soap.

Soap'll be happy to hear about this He thinks to himself as he washes off the black paint off his eyes. Simon then dried his face, and put a bit of moisturiser on and headed to his bed where he laid down.

Looks like I have a bit of competition Simon thought to himself and then sunk his head in the pillow.

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