#ongoing fan fic

[itsokbbygrl]

Proper Education: A Dark!Joel Saltburn AU Chapter 1: Fair is Foul, and Foul is Fair

Pairing: Dark!Joel Miller x OFC!Reader (written in 2nd POV)

Chapter Rating: M for foul language, underage drinking, mentions of sexual activity and drug use

Word Count: 1.1k, just a baby chapter to kick things off (don't get used to this, most of these chapters will be monsters)

Reader Immersibility: OFC is insanely white coded (frankly this whole story is full of white nonsense), she is from an old money wealthy family that owns an estate from the Gilded Age in New York, she is 18 years old, a college freshman at University of Texas at Austin, and is considered beautiful by society's standards in 2006 which means she is thin, has long hair, and is able bodied. She is relatively smart, but by no means a scholar. She is very sociable and often uses her charm to get her way. Story is written in 2nd person POV so the reader can feel what she is feeling as the story progresses and to keep the reader’s perspective limited as things start to get weird whacky and wild, but it will be difficult for the average reader to see themselves as her physically (myself included, trust me).

Chapter Tags: 18+ MDNI, foul language, implied drug use, underage drinking, mentions of sexual activity, college freshman aged OFC, rich white people doing rich white people things, author is requesting that you suspend your disbelief for some of these things!!!, OFC's family estate is a real place but is not a family home, liberties are taken with regard to UTA student life, inspired by Saltburn

Dividers by @pommecita, story is not beta'd, just written and edited by yours truly

Yet do I fear thy nature;  It is too full o’ th’ milk of human kindness  To catch the nearest way.  -Lady Macbeth, Act 1 Scene 5

The car slows to a stop in front of the familiar old tower. The stone structure bleached by unrelenting ultraviolet rays from the unrelenting sun baring down an omnipresent heat. You’d almost forgotten what it was like, the Texan summer. Almost. 

Your driver removes your luggage from the trunk of the black town car as you exit from your seat and step into the perpetually sticky August air, shading your eyes with a hand at your brow so you can properly thank him before you reach for your purse and leave him with a generous tip. You can’t remember his name, but you’re thankful for his service nonetheless. You’ve long become accustomed to a variety of faces in your family’s employ weaving in and out of your life; he is simply another face and name to add to the ever-increasing register.  

Your family sent the majority of your things ahead of move-in day, the university easily agreeing to transport them to your suite in student housing, a benefit of having your last name on one of the buildings, you rationalize, leaving you with a single suitcase and weekend bag to attend to on your own as you make your way to the designated key pickup zone. 

You were regretting your choice of attire the farther you strode across campus. You’d spent the last three months of your summer break idling at your family’s Long Island estate. The cool sea air making you quickly forget how unabating the summer heat was in landlocked central Texas. Your family had escaped the annual calefaction just after your graduation, retreating from your home in the rolling hills of Austin to the cool serenity of the Island. The estate is grandiose, passed through generations and now belonging to your mother and father. A bit gaudy in its opulence, in your opinion, but you harbor many fond memories from your summers spent there throughout your life—running through the vast gardens, sunning yourself on the meticulously manicured lawns, learning to golf and play tennis and swim, and as you grew a bit older, partaking in the many lavish parties hosted by your parents and grandparents alike, kissing boys in secret corridors, drunkenly losing your virginity in the grand library, gleefully breaking your D.A.R.E. pledges with your dear sister and cousin in your bathroom the first time someone brings over a tiny plastic baggie full of unlabeled white powder. 

Your exposed skin glistened with sweat; low rise denim skirt clinging to the skin at your hips, skin beginning to chafe uncomfortably between your thighs. You were glad you’d opted to clip your hair up in a classic twist before you’d gotten off the plane, keeping your neck free from being insulated by your thick tresses. You’re thankful for the many trips to campus over your lifetime as you head towards the designated booth for freshmen to pick up their dorm keys. You’re a fourth generation Longhorn, a legacy, and you know you have a reputation to uphold. You try to keep your face poised, relaxed, friendly, as the growing beads of moisture begin to drip in tiny rivulets between your breasts and along the central dip of your spine. 

You introduce yourself to the upperclassman working the table for your building and complete the requisite paperwork before you’re handed your keys—one for your door, one for your personal mailbox—and instructed to stop in the lobby before you drop off your items so you can have your student identification badge issued. 

“Your ID works like a key to get into the building after 10pm. Don’t lose it,” you’re warned by the table attendant. 

“Thank you, I’ll be careful,” you answer congenially, leaving them with a charming smile before you head in the direction of your dorm. 

You find your building without issue and reluctantly have your picture taken by the residence hall staff for your student ID. They give you a rundown of the general building rules—curfew is 10pm, after which time only residents with their programmed ID badges will be permitted entrance, all overnight guests must be checked in at the front desk with a government or student ID, no alcohol or illicit drugs are permitted on the premises, smoking is not permitted inside the building—and you maintain eye contact with the staffer and smile and nod while you let their words flow in one ear and out the other. 

Once you finish signing your agreement to follow the established residence hall code of conduct, your student ID has been printed and programmed. You take the badge with kind smiles and ample thanks before you haul your luggage to the elevator and make your way to your assigned room. A private double room all to yourself. Your parents insisted, making sure you’d have enough space to study and relax in equal measure. 

“Sweetpea, you know how it is there, those RAs are not gonna be as lenient as your daddy and I with the,” your mother stops her sentence and gestures, mimicking smoking a joint with one hand and drinking from a bottle with the other. She had sat on the other end of the plush sofa with you as you debated which residence hall to choose after coming home after your new student orientation the previous spring. 

You scoffed and kicked out a leg, painted toes bumping her thigh. 

“What? I’m just sayin’, babydoll. You’re a good time, college is a good time, but the RAs can be real,” she lowers her voice, “cunts.” She snickers a laugh at her own crudeness. 

“Mama, I know. I just thought it was part of the,” you raise both of your hands, forefingers and middle fingers miming quotation marks in the air, “college experience to have a random roommate or whatever.” You look back at the brochures in front of you and sigh before relenting. “I guess you’re right. The privacy will be nice.”

“Damn straight, baby. Plus, you don’t have to worry about a roommate being around when you bring a nice young man home to fu—”

“MOM, jesus,” you cut her off, shaking your head as she laughs. 

“What?! Baby girl you are my daughter, that means you’re half of me, and I fully know what that entails, ok? No reason to be ashamed of it, you’re young and gorgeous. Enjoy it while it lasts,” she tips her glass of white wine in your direction. You reach for your own on the coffee table, lifting it to hers, allowing the crystal to clink and chime in cheers as you both take a sip. 

You use your new key to unlock your door and haul your bags inside, finding boxes stacked neatly in the corner for you to unpack. “Welcome home, I guess,” you say to the four walls you’ll call home for the next year.

Navigation: Chapter 2: coming soon | Series Masterlist

a/n: thank you for reading! this is a multi-chaptered work in process with new chapters being posted approximately every other Friday at or around 7pm CT (pending my work schedule changing to late shift). please consider not only liking, but reblogging and leaving a comment or tags to give me some feedback! reblogs are the only way content is circulated on this platform and are always appreciated!

follow @itsokbbygrl-notifs and subscribe to notifications to receive notice when new chapters are posted.

[shiorimakibawrites]

Rollercoaster (Part 16 of Alley Cat)

Image Credit:  kissmegoodbye.net / Nathan Dumlao / Amber Kipp

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 6808

Summary: Matt's attempts to relax after work are marred by worries. It's a night of ups and downs for both of you. Continuation of Part 15 - The Interrogation

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, swearing, emotional rollercoaster, referenced sex, referenced sexual harassment, referenced police misconduct, stress, anxiety, referenced hallucinations, rough kiss, forehead kiss

Alley Cat Masterlist

Matt Murdock Masterlist

My General Masterlist

Tags:@loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @bellaxgiornata, @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment

Also posted on AO3

Part 16 - Rollercoaster

Matt stretched his arms over his head. His muscles and joints complained loudly about how long he had been sitting at his desk today. But it couldn’t be helped. Shortly after lunch, he had discovered that Burke & Winthrop had filed even more motions in the Al-Farsi case. Most matched their usual pattern of almost but not quite frivolous but a couple had tripped over that particular line.

Big mistake, Matt thought with a smile. It probably wasn’t a nice smile. He was feeling the same vicious pleasure that he always did when he had someone on the ropes.

“Wow, whose getting their ass kicked this time?”

Foggy, standing in the door of his office, sounding cheerful despite the long day they both had. Karen had already left for the day. She said something about a lead she wanted to check out for a case she was sharing with Jessica. They had been working together a lot lately . . .

“What makes you think I’m kicking someone’s ass?” he asked.

“I know that smile, buddy,” Foggy said. “You’ve scented blood. So who’s the unlucky bastard, this time?”

“Burke & Winthrop,” Matt said. “You know how Justice Watanabe just warned them about their motion practice?”

“Yeah?” Foggy asked, growing excitement in his voice. “Did they ignore his warning?”

“They did,” Matt confirmed.

“Bad move,” Foggy said with a certain amount of relish. He knew well as Matt did that Justice Watanabe was a very serious, no nonsense judge. He didn’t make idle threats – if he told you he was going to sanction you for doing something, he was going to sanction you. Nor was he going to appreciate the inherent disrespect of having his instructions blatantly ignored like this. Rule 11 sanctions weren’t a guarantee – there was still time for Burke & Winthrop to withdraw the offending motions or modify them just enough to make them acceptable. But they might not and since Justice Watanabe had already warned them, it might not really matter if they do . . . still just a possibility but it was sweet.

“Wanna go to Josie’s?”

Matt considered the offer. It sounded good. He had done everything he could today. You were working – your message said you were even planning to continue working from home after you ate dinner. He hadn’t hung with his friends in a while . . . especially just him and Foggy.

“Sure, Fogs,” he said. “Will Karen and Jessica be joining us?”

“Nah,” Foggy said. Matt could hear the smile in his voice. “Just us avocados tonight.”

“We’re not just avocados, Foggy,” Matt teased. “We’re the best avocados in this city, remember?”

Foggy laughed. “Damn straight. But right now, this avocado needs a beer.”

It didn’t take them long to close up the office and make their way over to Josie’s. The bar had just the right amount of crowd tonight. Big enough to make the place feel lively without making it crowded. Or so loud that he had to cut the outing short before he developed a migraine. The conversation and laughter that filled the bar buffed up against him like a gentle wave. Something he was aware of but could largely ignore. He still held his white cane in his hand but there were enough other regulars in the crowd that he didn’t really need it to get a path cleared to the bar.

“Murdock, Nelson,” Josie greeted them with mock gruffness. He heard the thunk of two glasses hitting the bar and sliding toward them. He recognized the distinctive mixture of sour-sweet-bitter that made up the bar’s brand of draft beer.

“Josie, you are a saint,” Foggy said, grabbing his beer and taking a big gulp before he even tried to sit down. Matt couldn’t blame him. Neither had them had lucked out with opposing counsel today. Matt had gotten Burke & Winthrop. Foggy had Nigel Norwood from Norwood & Sons.

Norwood had been their classmate at Columbia. He didn’t like Matt but he seemed to loathe Foggy in particular. Neither of them had any idea why. Might have been pure snobbishness. Maybe the grandson of a US Senator, scion of a wealthy and prominent New York family hadn’t liked sharing a classroom with the son of a shopkeeper and a public school teacher. They knew that he hadn’t liked getting thoroughly trounced in mock trial by said son. Or that he hadn’t done much better against Foggy in real court cases. Maybe he didn’t like Foggy’s popularity with girls.

For all that Foggy complained about Matt getting all the pretty girls, Foggy had his fair share of admirers. Matt had found himself sexiled to the library several times while they were roommates.

Regardless of the reason, the end result was that Norwood was just as much of a headache as Burke & Winthrop in his own way. Anyone would need a beer after a day like that.

“Save it for your girlfriend, Nelson,” Josie retorted with equally feign annoyance. Matt could tell that she was actually pleased. The banter might have continued but another patron called for her attention and she walked away.

“Speaking of which,” Matt said, folding up his cane and sliding onto a stool. “Where is the lovely Ms. Stahl?”

“Work,” Foggy answered, getting onto his own stool. “Her trial date got moved up and the judge wants the briefing done yesterday.”

Matt made a sympathetic noise. They had all been there. Judges could be impatient like that. He hadn’t forgotten the time their Crim Law professor had her lecture interrupted by a judge who wanted to hear oral arguments on a motion to suppress right then and there. Knowing full well that trying to argue with the judge about his timing would just hurt her case, the professor had just rolled with it. And immediately turned it into a learning opportunity for the class, after getting permission to put the call on speaker phone.

He sipped his beer and wondered if the case you were working on was Marci’s. It was possible. You both worked for the same firm. You had worked as Marci’s paralegal previously. On the other hand, Lee, Everett & Kirby wasn’t exactly small. And there were hundreds of cases on the docket in this city. It could just as easily be a coincidence.

“She was very disappointed,” Foggy continued. “Said that she could really use a beer right now.”

“The changed dates stressed her that much?” Matt asked, frowning. That didn’t sound like Marci. Usually, she thrived under that kind of pressure.

Foggy snorted, “Of course not. She’s fine with that. It’s the new case that she just got assigned to. Or rather it’s who got assigned as her co-counsel on that case.”

“Creepy Asshole?”

“Creepy Asshole,” Foggy confirmed. He didn’t sound happy about it.

Matt scowled. He wasn’t happy about that either. According to Marci, Creepy Asshole was a coworker who treated her like an idiot and never looked higher than her breasts. He had hit on her a few times, through not recently. Apparently he behaved this way toward every woman at the firm but had some kind of connection to the partners that protected him for getting fired. That and he was smart enough to avoid doing and saying anything truly outrageous in front of witnesses.

Marci wouldn’t tell them the man’s name, claiming they might do something dramatic. Like what happened to that guy who had groped her in the library during undergrad. He and Foggy had protested that it was all an accident. Foggy hadn’t mentioned that those bushes said classmate was walking by had very sharp thorns. And Matt certainly hadn’t tripped him with his cane into those bushes. Honest.

That other classmates who exhibited similarly unacceptable behavior had equally bad luck with the topiary around them was sheer coincidence.

Marci hadn’t believe them then and she still didn’t. But not even the solemn vow that Creepy Asshole would have no unfortunate encounters with any plants (through he might have one with the devil) would convince Marci to give them a name.

“I know,” Foggy said, sounding as frustrated as he felt. “Let’s change the subject before I talk myself into borrowing certain items from your apartment. Where’s your new lady tonight?”

“Also working” Matt said. “Her court dates got moved up too.”

Foggy’s hum of acknowledgment was accompanied by the soft swish of hair. Softer than it used to be – Matt still wasn’t entirely used to Foggy’s hair being shorter than his shoulders. Along with other equally quiet sounds and tiny changes in the surrounding air that meant someone was nodding. “You planning on seeing her again?”

It was too easy. “Can’t. I’m blind, remember?”

An irritated huff of air. “I’m giving you a dirty look. You know perfectly well what I meant!”

“You walked right into that one, buddy,” Matt pointed out immediately. “But to answer your question, yes, I am planning to see her again.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“She makes a very good cake,” Foggy said, sounding almost serious. “And she has already paid us a retainer. Do I need to remind you that we need at least some paying clients?”

“No,” Matt said. “You don’t need to repeat your ‘Con Ed Does Not Accept Bananas’ speech.”

“Hey, don’t knock my bananas speech. It’s very convincing.”

“It is,” Matt said. “I agreed to the sliding scale, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Foggy said. “Despite your bleeding heart.”

“My bleeding heart? I believe it was you who agreed to take the Lincoln case pro bono.

Matt thought that Foggy might be giving him another dirty look. “Don’t act like you weren’t marshaling your arguments for why we had to take that case!”

He smirked. “Didn’t need to. I knew we were going to take that case from the moment Mr. Lincoln walked in our door.”

Foggy grumbled but rather tellingly didn’t argue. Mr. Lincoln had come to them because his landlord was trying to evict him for getting a guide dog, citing the building’s no pets policy. Which didn’t apply to service animals like Cedar. The landlord was probably banking on Mr. Lincoln either not knowing that or lacking the resources to fight it. Unfortunately for the landlord, Nelson & Murdock (for obvious reasons) took a rather dim view on disability discrimination.

Talk quickly turned away from work. Foggy shared the latest Nelson family gossip – who was getting married, which of his cousins was having (another) baby, how one of his little cousins had broken his arm attempting to jump from the roof onto a trampoline and how a different little cousin had gotten her brand-new pink dress covered in duckweed up to the waist while catching frogs . . .

The updates from Maggie had been almost staid by comparison. The teens had stolen some bottles of communion wine and attempted to get themselves drunk off of it. A black cat whose white markings made it look like it was wearing a priest’s collar had effectively moved into the church. Between its appearance and that its favorite napping spots being the pulpit and the confessional booth, the kids had taken to calling it Father Meow. Thankfully, Father Tomas took the cat’s habit of meowing loudly during certain amount of Mass and the resulting giggles in stride.

A home safe message from you still hadn’t arrived by the time Matt was finishing his beer but he wasn’t worried. Not yet. It didn’t normally take you this long to get home but you weren’t actually late. Not yet. There was no reason to worry yet. Maybe the subway was running slow today. Or you had decided to stop for take-out instead of cooking tonight. Or needed to run an errand like grabbing some milk or picking up the dry cleaning. He wasn’t worried.

Foggy finished his own beer – he had slowed down after that first big gulp – and from the sounds of the stool creaking, had shifted to look around.

“Looks like one of the pool tables is opening up,” Foggy said. “Wanna play?”

“Sure,” Matt said, eager to give his mind something to focus on. There was nothing to worry about. Everything was fine.

He played a couple games of pool. He drank a second beer. He engaged in playful banter with Foggy about food that ranged whether pineapple belonged on pizza to best foods. They agreed to disagree on the first (again). For the latter, Foggy’s champion was his grandmother’s chocolate cake (“You can’t even taste the sauerkraut!” / “Maybe you can’t.”) but Matt remained devoted to his dad’s stew (even if making it was always bittersweet and sometimes downright painful).

And the entire time his phone remained still and silent.

It was unlikely that he had missed the notification chime but he checked anyway. Not a single missed call, unheard voice mail, or unread text message . . . . you should have gotten home by now . . .

Fear began to blossom in his chest as he called you even as he tried to tell himself that he was worrying about nothing . . . maybe you had simply run into a friend and lost track of time. Lord knew he and Foggy could talk for hours without realizing how much time had passed . . .

The phone rang and rang but the only answer was a computer saying ‘Hello, you have reached the phone of . . .’

He left a message, tried to play off his concern by teasingly asking you if you somehow managed to end up in Queens. Again. It had been long enough . . .

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and returned his attention to the pool table. But he couldn’t concentrate on it . . . his mind was on his all too quiet phone . . . on sitting on the urge to go home, grab his burner and ask the spider kid if he had met any lost paralegals tonight even if that was bound to make the other vigilante curious . . .

“What’s wrong?” Foggy asked, his heartbeat shifting into its worried rhythm. He lowered his voice before continuing, “Are you hearing something that needs Daredevil?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Matt said and explained the situation.

“She’s probably fine,” Foggy said but his heart gave away the lie. He wasn’t convinced of that either. Even if you had decided to walk the entire way from the Upper East Side, you ought to be home by now. “You just called her . . . let’s give her a few more minutes to call back.”

Matt agreed and waited, trying not to think about all the ways you could be not fine . . . He wasn’t very successful, the vicious part of his imagination conjuring all of the evils that could have befallen you . . . those awful moments when someone he cared about (loved) heartbeat sputtered to a stop . . . St. Patrick, I beseech thee to protect . . .

You didn’t call back. Matt called again but as before, you didn’t answer. He left another message but couldn’t keep the worry out of his voice this time. As the minutes ticked by agonizingly slow . . . he picked at the label on the empty beer bottle and listened. Not to his phone but beyond . . . training his ears toward your apartment. Hoping that you were there. If you were simply ignoring him, it would hurt but at least you’d be alive . . . but what if you had some kind of accident and couldn’t reach your phone? Had you been lying on the floor of your apartment, in terrible pain, hoping he’d heard your cries for help?

But the only heartbeat he found in your apartment belonged to Houdini. He couldn’t heard that distinctive rhythm anywhere in your building . . .

A hand grabbing his shoulder shattered his concentration. The sounds of the city rose and threatened to drown him in a roaring river of noise. But that was a war that Matt had been fighting since he was nine. He hadn’t lost a battle in a while. He regained control and within it, recognized the hand gripping his shoulder. Along with increasing frantic voice that went with it. Foggy.

“-can hear me? Matt!”

“I can hear you,” Matt said. He tried not to be irritated at his best friend. Foggy had good reason to worry when Matt didn’t appear to be responding to sound. He had only discovered Matt like that once but apparently that was enough to get it permanently etched in Foggy’s mind.

“Did your hearing get wonky again?”

“No,” he said. “Just the opposite. I was trying to see if she was in her apartment or not.”

“Josie’s is close enough to her place that you can do that?” Foggy asked. He sounded surprised. Even after all this time and their many heart-to-hearts after their reconciliation, the extent of Matt’s senses still surprised him.

“Yes,” Matt said. “Just takes a little concentration.”

“Show off,” Foggy said. “So is she there?’

“No.”

“Alright, let’s start looking,” Foggy said, his hand sliding off Matt’s shoulder and into his pocket. He pulled something out – probably his phone. “First things first, let’s see if she ever actually left the office. She works at Lee, Everett & Kirby, right?”

Matt nodded.

“Would Marci know her?”

“She ought to,” Matt said. “She’s been Marci’s paralegal more than once.”

“Good,” Foggy said and did something on his phone. Calling someone as it began to ring . . then the familiar voice of Marci said, “Yes, Foggy Bear?”

“Hey Marci,” Foggy said, doing his best to sound casual and not worried as he asked if she knew if you had left the office today.

“How do you know my paralegal?” Marci demanded.

“I’m her attorney.”

“Why –”

“I’ll explain later,” Foggy cut her off. “She sent Matt a message two hours ago saying she was heading home and would text when she arrived but we haven’t heard anything since and she isn’t answering her phone. Is she still at the office?”

Marci made an irritated noise at being interrupted but answered the question. “Not as far as I know. I didn’t see her actually left this room but all of her things are gone . . . hang on, let me check if anyone saw her leave.”

He did his best to sit on his impatience while Marci asked a few colleagues if they had seen you . . . no, no, no, finally one said yes. They had been at the front desk and saw you walk out of the door, your briefcase in hand just over two hours ago.

“Thanks Marci, you’ve been very helpful,” Foggy said and hung up the phone before Marci could ask him any questions. “I’m going to pay for that later . . . Do you have any of her friends’ numbers?”

“No.” Something that he planned to rectify as soon as possible.

“Family? Could she have decided to to see one of them?”

“No,” Matt said, then shook his head. “And not easily. None of them live in New York . . . I think the sister is the closest. Somewhere in Massachusetts.”

However Foggy would have responded to that was cut off by his phone ringing. “Probably Marci to yell at me . . . no wait, that’s Brett. Why is he calling . . . Hello?”

“Nelson, are you and Murdock in New Jersey or something?”

Matt frowned in confusion. What?

“Noooo . . . why?” Foggy said, sounding as confused by the question as Matt felt.

“Because your client asked for you over an hour ago and your ugly mug still hasn’t shown up.”

“What?!” Both of them exclaimed.

“Didn’t you get a call?” There was a frown in Mahoney’s voice, a note of suspicion.

“Obviously not,” Foggy snapped. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

He hung up and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. “I think we might have found your girlfriend.”

“Quite possibly,” Matt agreed. Even if it wasn’t you, none of their clients deserved to have been left in interrogation for so long. Especially with detectives who seemed to be outright ignoring their right to counsel. “Let’s go.”

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Your legs were so wobbly that Matt almost had to carry you. He had offered. It had been tempting to agree. Very tempting. You had been brave. You had been strong. A not insignificant part of you didn’t want to be either of those things for a while. That part would have been perfectly fine with Matt carrying you around, face burrowed against his chest until you felt better. Or it was tomorrow and you had to face the world regardless. Whichever came first.

But another part of you was angry. Not at Foggy or Matt. You were confident that they hadn’t just left you there, that they had come as soon as they could. But at the detectives for making you feel so helpless and alone, for ignoring your repeated demands to see your attorney like you hadn’t said anything of the sort . . . the near certainty that they had done that to someone else and likely would again . . .

That anger was just a spark right now. Later, when you were feeling less tired and stressed, you were going be furious. But right now, all that anger could accomplish was making you insist on walking. Matt didn’t argue or even get snippy about your tone. Just took as much of your weight as you allowed and helped you walk over to the couch. He eased you both down onto the couch. You kicked off your heels and pulled your legs up, curling against his side. As close as you could get without actually crawling into his lap.

Which you had considered but decided against it. You had displayed enough embarrassing behavior for one night, thank you very much.

Not that Matt seemed to mind your neediness, curling his arm around your shoulders and encouraging you to rest your head on his shoulder. Which you did. The last tears were trickling down your face. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Let it slowly. Then another and another. You needed to get level, to be calm. There were things you needed to do before you could call it a day.

But those things would have wait another minute. Or ten. You could hear Foggy moving around, doing something that involved running water but Matt didn’t seemed concerned and it was his apartment . . . so you ignored those sounds in favor of listening to the soft nonsense Matt was murmuring into your hair and taking deep breaths.

You didn’t know how long you sat like that before you heard Foggy softly call your name from nearby. You crackled open an eye and saw him standing to the side of coffee table, holding out something for you. A washcloth.

You must have looked confused because he explained. “Don’t know about you but my eyes always hurt after crying like that. Especially after a long day staring at computer screens. A wet washcloth usually helps them feel better.”

Now that he mentioned it, your eyes did feel a little sore. And more than a little gritty. It couldn’t hurt. You took the washcloth and laid it across your closed eyes. Foggy was right. The coolness felt immediately soothing. “Thank you Foggy. That does help.”

“No problem,” he said with a rustle of clothing and footsteps. “Your tea should be done seeping soon and our food should be here in the next ten minutes.”

“Tea?” You repeated and sniffed the air. You could smell something vaguely herbal but a stronger and more familiar scent was also filling the air, along with a very familiar sound. “I smell coffee.”

“Wow, you two are already copying each other’s sentences?” Foggy teased. “I made the coffee mostly for me and Matt. If you want a cup, I won’t stop you but something without caffeine might be better after all that stress.”

It probably was. You did feel jittery. But you might get a cup of the coffee anyway. Even if you didn’t drink most of it, the warmth and aroma alone was comforting.

“What kind of tea?”

“Don’t know. Braille label just has ‘go to fucking sleep’ on it.”

“It does not,” Matt said. “It says ‘can’t sleep tea.’”

“I was paraphrasing,” Foggy countered. “Since I am positive that ‘can’t sleep’ in Matthew Murdock translates as ‘I haven’t sleep in a week’ to us non-ninjas.”

“I’ve never gone a week without sleep,” Matt argued. “Humans physically can’t stay awake that long.”

“True,” Foggy conceded before adding, “But I distinctively remember spring finals in our freshmen year. You went without sleep long enough to start hallucinating.”

“I wasn’t hallucinating,” Matt protested.

“You said, and I quote, ‘This dorm is a hive. Filled with bees. Buzz.’ Then kept saying buzz over and over again until I slapped my hand over your mouth. Then you licked my hand, Matthew.”

“You licked my hand first.”

“Objection! When did I allegedly lick your hand?”

“When you got drunk at that frat party and got it into your head to serenade that girl from your Punjabi class. At three in the morning. I was trying to shut you up before she threw something heavier than a slipper at you.”

You laughed. Which was probably their goal all long judging by how pleased they looked with themselves when you peeked out from behind the washcloth. The laughter felt good, releasing a tension that you hadn’t realized that you were carrying. You were still giggling when Foggy returned to living room and held out a mug to you. You took it and breathed it in. It might not have been coffee but the warmth seeping into your hands felt nice and it smelled good.

“All joking aside,” you said, looking up at Matt. “What’s in this tea?”

“Mostly chamomile and lavender,” he answered.

“That’s all it takes when you can’t sleep? A cup of flowery tea?” You asked, feeling more than a little jealous. Your insomnia was never so easily defeated . . .

“Not quite,” Matt said. “That’s just part of how I try to relax when I can’t sleep.”

There was the faintest suggestion of a blush dusting his cheeks and the tip of his ears. Which was both adorable and made you powerfully curious. What could make this man blush? Even just a little? He seemed so shameless. Especially last night when he was encouraging you to moan or praising how well you were taking his cock . . .

You felt your face flush at the memory and the accompanying urge to squirm. Then flushed even more when Matt’s head tilted slightly toward you and that knowing smirk starting to form. To distract yourself away from such thoughts before you got (more) worked up, you turned your gaze to the mug in your hands. There wasn’t much to distract your eye. The tea didn’t look much different from black tea other than a little lighter in color and the mug wasn’t decorated beyond being a nice shade of yellow.

You raised the mug to your lips and sipped the tea. The taste was mild, slightly sweet but not sugary. It wasn’t going to replace your beloved coffee anytime soon but you wouldn’t object to being offered another cup in the future. But you couldn’t resist the urge to look at Matt for long.

His mug didn’t match yours. It was white with a stylized drawing of two halved avocados and something written in braille underneath. If you had to guess, it probably said the same thing as the green lettering above it – Best Damn Avocados. Like one of those #1 Dad mugs. Looking closer, you realized that the line art of the avocados was raised. A look over at Foggy showed him drinking out an identical mug.

You found yourself feeling curious again. Those mugs looked something that had been custom-made. Did they really like avocados? You liked avocados too but not enough to get a custom mug. There was probably a story there but before you could ask, there was a knock on the door. Foggy put down his mug and went to the door. You heard the soft murmur of conversation before Foggy came back with a box with the name of local pizzeria in his hands.

The tantalizing aroma of fresh pizza filled the apartment. It made your mouth water. More embarrassingly, your stomach decided to remind everyone that you had missed dinner. Blood returned to your cheeks.

“Hungry?” Matt asked with a little amused smile.

“A little,” you answered ruefully as Foggy walked over with two plates in his hands. Pepperoni. A good choice. You had been expanding your palette since moving to New York but on bad days, you gravitated toward familiar things with happy memories attached to it. Like pepperoni pizza. Even if this hand-tossed crust with its classic leopard spotting was a far cry from the chain-restaurant or freezer section pizza of your childhood.

You must have been hungrier than you thought. You practically inhaled that first slice of pizza. Foggy offered to get you another slice but you quickly said no. He had only just sat down and barely gotten a bite of his own slice. You would get another one yourself. Your legs weren’t entirely on board with this plan. You stood and for a heart-stopping moment, they refused to take your weight.

You started to fall back. But then Matt was there, steadying you with one hand braced against your back, the other on your hip.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he gently chided. “I don’t think any of us wants to add a trip to the ER tonight.”

“Sure you don’t want me to get that pizza?” Foggy asked. He had half raisen from his chair.

“I’m sure,” you said. You reached down and wrapped your hand around Matt’s hand on your hip. You gave it a little squeeze. “I’m fine.”

The hand gave a squeeze of its own to your hip but he didn’t try to stop you from putting your weight back on your legs. This time they held. Matt’s hands slide off of your body with obvious reluctance as you moved toward the kitchen box and the waiting box of pizza. You got your second slice and returned to your previous spot on the couch.

This time you ate more slowly. You had been meaning to try this pizzeria – you walked by it on the way to work and it always smelled good – but hadn’t gotten around to it. It didn’t take long to realize that you should have listened to your nose. It was really good, much better than some of the other places you had tried. From now, you decided, you were getting your pizza from Slice of Life.

You felt a lot better now. The tasks ahead of you that have previously seemed so dauntingly felt manageable. Knowing this second wind wasn’t going to last forever, you cleared your throat and said, “We should probably get started on business.”

Both men seemed to study you for a minute, Matt with his listening closely pose and Foggy with shrewd eyes. But after that minute, both men nodded. Foggy took out a legal pad and pen from his satchel.

You had opened your mouth to begin when Foggy’s phone gave out a loud thrum. It wasn’t the first time the phone had buzzed at him. It had done so several times while you were eating. But each time, Foggy had looked at the call ID and declined the call. This time, however, he fumbled the phone and ended up answering. On speaker phone to boot because you heard a familiar voice all but growl, “Franklin.”

You winced. You recognized that tone. It had never been directed at you but you knew what it meant. Marci Stahl was out for blood.

“Hey Marci,” Foggy said with forced cheerfulness. It was obvious from the look on his face that he knew he was in hot water.

“Do. Not,” she hissed. “‘Hey Marci’ me, Franklin Nelson. I want to know what the hell is going on. Right now!”

After a quick glance at you for permission – Foggy explain the situation. Only in the broad strokes, omitting certain details. Like you had seen Daredevil more than once. And that Matt was the vigilante in question. Listening to his explanation answered a couple of your own questions – Marci was not in on the secret (yet) and how they had learned about the interrogation. Apparently there was at least one detective at that precinct who remembered that things like access to your legal counsel was a right, not a suggestion. Good to know.

“I see,” Marci said after Foggy had finished talking. She sounded more thoughtful than angry now. Which was a relief. “One question.”

“Fire away,” Foggy said as you raised your mug to drink the last of your tea.

“Murdock, are you fucking my paralegal?”

You managed – just barely – not to spray tea all over Matt’s coffee table or dribble it down your shirt. You also avoided chocking on it. Still, you were sputtering and your face felt like it was on fire.

“Ms. Stahl!” you protested.

“That sounds like a yes,” Marci said. “And call me Marci if you are dating Murdock. You are dating right, not just fucking?”

It wasn’t possible to die of embarrassment. Otherwise Jo would have killed you years ago. But sometimes, you thought as you buried your face in your hands, I really wished that it would.

You jumped a little when a hand gripped your knee. You peered through your fingers and saw it was Matt. Who squeezed your knee and sent you a reassuring smile before he answered Marci.

“Yes, Marci, we’re dating.”

“I thought so.”

“Why?” Matt looked genuinely curious. And if you were being honest, you were more than a little curious yourself about that answer.

“That hickey on her neck. You usually aren’t possessive enough of a one-night stand to mark them up like that.”

“Huh,” Foggy said slowly, looking he was mentally reviewing his memory. “I think she’s right.”

“I think you’ll find that I’m always right, Foggy Bear.”

Foggy Bear? That was unexpectedly cute. It also didn’t escape your notice that this was the second person to mention that hickey to you. It seemed your attempt at cover-up was even worse than you thought. Granted, both parties were rather observant people.

Still . . .

“Is there anything else I should be aware?” Marci asked.

“I had work product and similar confidential materials for the Rosenberg-Kowalski case in my briefcase,” you said. “So I refused to unlock it for police when they frisked me. They threatened to get a warrant for the contents.”

“They aren’t very likely to get one. Or a subpoena for that matter,” Marci pointed out.

“I know that,” you said. “But that doesn’t mean that they aren’t going to try. And I assume that you wouldn’t appreciate being caught unaware by such an attempt.”

“You assume correctly,” Marci said. “I’ll watch out for it. Which detectives from which precinct?”

“Tim Vaughn and Darla Reynolds with the 15th Precinct.”

Marci repeated the information in a way that suggested that she was writing that down. Then, after a brief conversation with Foggy, she said good-bye and hung up.

“Okay,” Foggy said, picking up his pen. “Let’s go over exactly what happened.”

You took a deep breathe. Then you started describing what happened, doing your best to remain calm. But when you got to the moment when you tried to get out your phone, your heart began to race with remembered fear. You felt Matt’s leg, pressed up against yours, became rigid.

“He threatened you with a gun?” Matt asked, his voice dark with growing anger. You looked over at him, saw the hands clenched tightly into fists. Then the muscles shifted under his clothes, like he was preparing to stand up. You knew with a visceral certainty that you couldn’t let him do that. If he stood up, he would make a beeline for the Daredevil suit. Assuming he even bothered stopping to grab his armor before darting out the window . . .

Your mind raced, trying to come up with something, anything, to convince him to stay where he was . . . You reached for him, cupping his face in your hands. Gently but firmly you encouraged him to turn his head to face you. Away from where you assumed he had hidden the Daredevil suit.

Once again, you were struck by how beautiful he looked like this. That naked rage blazing in his eyes should have been scary. And while you couldn’t say that it wasn’t intimidating, fear wasn’t your body’s overwhelming reaction.

No, you thought, feeling the wet heat building between your legs. Not fear at all.

His nostrils flared. Then his brow furrowed with the first hint of confusion. It was an opening. You massaged his cheeks with your thumbs. “Orange isn’t your color, baby.”

“He threatened you with a gun.”

“He never even drew the gun from its holster,” you pointed out mildly but his body remained rigid, his eyes filled with anger . . . and fear, you realized with a jolt. He was frightened. And like most men, he was channeling that fear into anger . . .

That give you an idea. It was risky but . . . Not wanting to give yourself time to talk yourself out of it, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. He didn’t respond at first. Long enough that you felt the first stirring of panic. Had you just ruined everything . . . but then you felt his mouth soften.

He started kissing you back, his hands raising to cradle your head as he deepened the kiss. It wasn’t a gentle, loving kiss. You didn’t expected it to be. You didn’t want it to be. You wanted him to turn that rage and its underlying fear into passion. And he did, biting and lapping into your mouth with a fierce intensity that left you breathless. Moaning, you didn’t resist as his hands slide down your back and started to tug you into his lap . . .

A sharp whistle pierced the air, startling you. You reeled back from Matt, almost falling off the couch. Where – ?

“Oi, lovebirds!”

Foggy, still lowering his hand from the whistle and looking rather disgusted with both of you. Embarrassment brought a fresh wave of warmth to your face. You had forgotten he was there. At least you weren’t alone in that particular boat. When you risked a glance at Matt, he had the same flushed, vaguely guilty expression on his face that you were pretty sure was gracing yours.

You forced yourself to look away. Before you got too distracted by his kiss-swollen mouth. Or mussed hair. Or . . . You sat up straight and did your best to ignore the empty ache in your cunt. Now really wasn’t the time.

“Can I trust you two to keep everything rated G until I leave?”

“Sorry Fogs. We’ll be good.”

You echoed that agreement.

Foggy looked skeptical but after a moment, gestured for you to continue your story. You did. Matt and Foggy both asked a few clarifying questions. Neither knew what to make of your observations about Reynolds. Matt added that she had smelled like stress, even more than usual for a cop. Still, it was possible that that what was going on was exactly how it appeared to be – a fishing expedition by a couple of overzealous detectives. But it was also possible there was something else going on. There just wasn’t enough information to be know either way. You’d all have to wait and see.

It wasn’t an answer that pleased any of you but it was what it was.

Matt walked you home. By the time you arrived, your second wind was fading fast. Maybe Matt’s sleepy tea was finally catching up with you. But maybe it was just this emotional rollercoaster of a day . . . Either way, you were practically asleep on your feet.

But you had a meowing cat at your feet who, understandably, wanted his dinner. Any dinner, as blurry eyed look showed that all of his bowls were empty. Even his water. Poor kitty. He deserved a much better human friend than you. You started to shuffle toward the cat food but Matt stopped you.

“Get ready for bed, sweetheart. I’ll feed Houdini for you.”

That sounded like a fantastic idea. You loved your cat but you were just so tired . . . You agreed and turned toward your bedroom. You paid very little attention to what you pulled out of the drawer for sleepwear. At this point, as long as it was clean and didn’t itch, you didn’t care what you were wearing. All you cared about was the siren’s call of your nice, comfortable bed with its fluffy pillows and soft blanket . . .

You were just awake enough to notice the warm, furry body joining you in the bed, tucking himself under your chin with a purr. Dimly, you noticed that he smelled like potting soil but you couldn’t remember why that was problem . . .

Just before everything faded away, you felt soft lips press against your forehead and deep voice say, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Ending Notes:

This chapter’s working title was “Debrief” but given both Matt and Reader go through a bit of an emotional rollercoaster in this chapter, I changed it.

On the ropes is an expression from boxing from where someone is being forced up against the ropes by an opponent’s attack. That someone is usually losing and will have difficulty getting back on the offensive. It used in common parlance to mean that someone is very near to giving up or being defeated.

Rule 11 is (Federal?) Rule of Civil Procedure 11 provides that a district court may sanction attorney or parties who submit pleadings for an improper purpose or that contain frivolous arguments or arguments that have no evidentiary support. Basically, if I’m understanding this right, do not waste the court’s time with utter nonsense. These sanctions is usually a monetary fee.

In addition to being a mobility aid, the white cane can also be used an identifier. Mostly so others know to give the blind person (and possibility the person guiding them, if they are being guided by a sighted person) enough room to walk safely.

Sexiled is a slang term for being banished by one’s roommate from the room/dorm/apartment so said roommate can have sex with their significant other with relative privacy.

Crim Law is a shortened form of Criminal Law.

The professor being called by the judge in the middle of class is an adaptation of a story that an attorney shared during a podcast about having to give arguments over the phone while on a beach dressed in swim trunks.

Con Ed is Consolidated Edison Inc is a utility providing electric and gas service in New York City as well as steam service in Manhattan.

Mr. Lincoln is a nod to Willie Lincoln, a minor character in the Daredevil comic who is a blind African American veteran.

As far as I know, that thing about the guide dog is true, provided the dog isn’t aggressive toward other tenants.

The broken arm thing is something that my younger sibling did when they were about ten.

Duckweed is a common name for aquatic plants that float on or just beneath the surface of still or slow-moving bodies of fresh water like a pond. Through the algae is might also be getting that dress dirty.

Pineapple on pizza is the subject sometimes rather serious debate. I have no strong opinions on the matter – generally I think the people who are eating that particular pizza are the only ones whose opinion of the toppings matter.

Chocolate Sauerkraut Cake is really a thing. I first encountered the concept in a video by B. Dylan Hollis on YouTube. Apparently, if made right, you cannot taste the sauerkraut but I think I’ll just stick with coconut for that texture.

Jack’s stew is an Irish-style stew with beef, potatoes, carrots, onions, and turnips stewed in beef stock and Guinness beer. Traditionally the stew is made with lamb, potatoes, onions, and water but like many common dishes, every family has their own version. Jack made it like his mother did with exception of using beef instead of lamb or mutton because the latter two tend to be more expensive than beef in the US.

Walking from Upper East Side to Hell’s Kitchen would take at least an hour, according to Google maps.

St. Patrick, in addition to being the patron saint of Ireland, is also the patron saint of paralegals. But I’m not Catholic so don’t quote me on that.

Chamomile and lavender are supposed be relaxing. Separately or together, they often are ingredients in calming and bedtime teas.

Leopard spotting on pizza is caused when the dough is fermenting in a cold environment which causes a lot of air bubbles to form and the intense heat of the oven makes those bubbles super pronounced, creating leopard-liked spotting.

Slice of Life is not, as far as I know, a real restaurant.

G Rating is one of the film ratings given out by the MPAA (Motion Picture Association of America), meaning for general audience. It is supposed to be suitable for young children with no violence, offensive language, or sexual activity.

[finemeal]

Can't Help Myself

Clark feels overwhelming feelings bubble up in his chest. His love for Bruce is all-consuming, devouring his very soul. And Bruce doesn't help when he does the sweetest things for Clark as if it's second nature. The closest Clark can get to sharing how he feels about Bruce is through kissing him, with all the love he feels. It still doesn't feel like enough, but it's the closest he can get.

-

Or: 5 times Clark kisses Bruce because of a sweet gesture Bruce does (even if he doesn’t know it) + 1 times Bruce kisses Clark because of a sweet gesture.

[redfurrycat]

🐓🤠Hangster Fic Recs🤠 🐓

🐓🤠Hangster Goodies to Read! 🐓🤠

[Recs List 4]

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

List of Hangster Ao3 Authors in Recs List 4:

Abliafina | Andrealyn | Anonymous ~~~ Brenda | Broke_Traveler ~~~ Callsignvalley | Callsignyours | Capt_JaneClaude | Charlie_mou | Chase_acow | Cheaptrickandacheesyoneliner | Cristinuke | Cryinginthebronco ~~~ Dalearden | DraconisWing24441 ~~~ Earthangel_44 | Elwenyere | Emseebeans ~~~ ForASecondThereWedWon ~~~ Ginnydear | Greatea | Greenstuff ~~~ Hail_the_gay | Hangmanbradshaw | Haridwar | Hngstercity ~~~ Infinitejaust ~~~ JuliaBaggins | Just_A_Regular_Person ~~~ K0ralik ~~~ LadyLanera | Lemqnie | Lesbiseresin | LetPeteBeMaverick | Lizbeth_e | Lovelybattle | LulaluzHazel ~~~ Mackwinnon | MadeItUp | McDanno50 | MerielTLA | Milestaller | Monkiedude  ~~~ Nickies_Nonsense | Notchka88 ~~~ OfTheDirewolves | Ok_thanks ~~~ Perishablealex ~~~ Ravens_Words | ReformedTsundere | Renai_chan ~~~ SamHeartfilia | Starryinspace ~~~ Thegeckbros | Theinsouciantknitter | ToukoJalorda003 | TwiceInABlueM00n ~~~ WaffleToaster | Whimsicule | Winterbitch ~~~

[Recs List 1] - [Recs List 2] - [Recs List 3] - [Recs List 4] - [Recs List 5]

I turn at last to paths that lead home by JuliaBaggins {T}

"Kazansky? Hasn't he got cancer or something?"

"Oh yeah. I remember talk around base about that a while ago, didn't sound good."

"Fuck", Phoenix's severe expression fitted the others', “I didn’t know that, that’s terrible.”

There was a moment where no one said anything. And Bradley felt like someone had stolen all the air out of his lungs, as well as all of the warmth out of the sun shining so brightly down on them.

Bradley hasn't talked to the two men who raised him in years. But when he hears about the situation one of them finds himself in, he decides to do something about that.

[Lots of family feels between Bradley, Ice & Mav; established Icemav; Hangster endgame]

The Prince and His Knight by McDanno50

On A Dreary Night {E}

Jake felt his heart thump quicker, galloping in his chest, as the clicking of claws grew closer. Heavy breaths not his own let Jake know he was no longer alone. He remained still even as natural fear urged him to look over his shoulder to gauge the threat. But there was no real danger because Jake knew in his soul that he was safe with the monstrous wolf-like creature that lurked in the flickering shadows. The beast who terrified the men, women, and children not born of Miramar was hardly a monster to Jake.

The bright light of day sees the Crown Prince of Miramar, Jacob Seresin, protected by his personal knight: a Lycan named Rooster. But at night, Jake loses himself to pleasure by Rooster's wolf form.

A Speckled Rooster Crowed {G}

Lycans had few offspring, litters born every ten years. The last Lycan pups included Julian’s own knight, Cyclone. And now it was Jake’s turn to choose a knight – his very own Lycan pup to raise and train as his personal bodyguard. He’d never known something so exciting yet terrifying.

The time has come for Prince Jake to select his knight. Five pups vie for his attention, but one young Lycan seems a bit preoccupied with a fowl enemy.

Of Sex and Flowers {E}

If Heaven truly existed, Jake was sure his would be exactly like this. With Jake and his knight Rooster, alive and together in this peaceful place. Nothing outside of the meadow mattered when they were here: Jake was not royalty and Rooster was not a Lycan. They could play pretend and just be two men hopelessly in love with no duties and no secrets.

Jake sneaks out of the castle to spend some private time with Rooster in a meadow. Their relationship will change once Jake becomes the Crown Prince so they say goodbye in the only way they know how.

Call Me Yours by Renai_chan {E}

Jake is the perfect Crown Prince of Seresin--handsome beyond compare, educated by the world's most renowned scholars, draped in all the luxuries his wealthy kingdom can afford, magnificent in battle, with multitudes of adoring subjects throwing themselves at his feet--but all he really wants is to be put on his knees and called a filthy whore by his slave, Bradley.

nothing’s good until it hurts by thegeckbros

there's money for the taking (and the happiness we all deserve) {E}

“So, what, one of the richest dudes in New York wants to be your sugar daddy?”

“Kinda?” Jake sits back up, straightening up and turning his body towards Javy. “He doesn’t want like sex or anything. He just needs someone to pretend to date so his uncle and PR team get off his back about his reputation.”

Or a sugar daddy au in which jake is a struggling law student, bradley's a billionaire, and they weave a tangled web

you do it all your life and you never get through it {M}

The silver lining, if there is one to be had, about watching his dad die in front of him is that the worst thing to ever happen to Bradley is over before his life has really begun. Every shitty breakup or spectacular fuckup, every broken bone or missed flight. None of it will ever come close to even touching the worst day of Bradley’s life. And then, 15 years after the worst thing that’s ever happened to him, it all happens again. or scenes from bradley's life, before and after jake

Crazy 'Bout A Sharp-Dressed Man by MadeItUp {E}

When Rooster needs advice on what to wear for a hot date, it's Jake he asks for help. Despite the fact he kinda wishes he was the one Rooster was taking on this date, Jake's determined not to let his ego get in the way of helping a friend in need and agrees to offer his services...

All of them.

“My impeccable taste is at your disposal.” He flashes Rooster a grin. “But you’ll owe me one.” “Sexual?” Rooster says, with the same mischievous tone as Jake. Jake lifts his beer to his mouth and winks. “If that’s what you’re offering…” Yeah, so long as Rooster keeps acting like this, they’re good.

Neon Pink Longing by Capt_JaneClaude {E}

Being in a long-distance relationship is hard but Bradley knows how to make it easier for Jake.

Cambiaste un Ferrari por un Twingo by LulaluzHazel {T}

Jake Seresin is a famous songwriter in a long-term relationship. He has been living in Barcelona for the past five years living the most romantic and beautiful dream. Until one slip from his partner reveals on National TV the dream is not a dream and Jake has been cheated on for the past year and a half.

Heartbroken, he doesn't know to function, until his younger sister suggests he could do a song with one of the most controversial DJs and producers to 'vent' and start healing. A music producer he doesn't respect much. But he knows that between both of them, they can put out a song that will follow the Fucker who played with his heart like that.

Of Crowns and Medals (That Don’t Shine Like They Should) by ToukoJalorda003 {M}

It wasn’t as if Rooster hadn’t wanted to serve in the Guard his entire life - he had. Serving the king, his country…it was the only thing he’d ever wanted.

…Until it wasn’t. And with the rules being as strict as they were, there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

Bradley falling in love with Jake was going to get them both in trouble - and he wished more than anything that he could change that.

Holding Pattern by Anonymous {E}

The thing about having a dead father everybody liked is that everybody’s got a bigger piece of him than Bradley does.

... 5 times Rooster wasn't ready + 1 time he was

we met and you claimed me by haridwar

it seemed so natural, darling, that you and I are here {M}

“Did we really do this?” Bradley asked. It was the first thing he had said since Jake’s brainwave and Jake was not a fan of how upset he sounded. “Are we- did we get married?”

or: what happens in Vegas...

don't call me lover, it's not enough {T}

all the things that happen after Vegas

The shapes of love by winterbitch {T}

sink your teeth into me (keep me)

Rooster doesn't need to know what animal Hangman shifts into, but he sure wants to find out. It's just another piece of the man he's hopelessly in love with, and he wants to know everything, no matter how much his friends tease him. Through a series of events, he finally finds out, and maybe gets more than expected  or shifter au where rooster is a wolf, hangman is [redacted], there's a LOT of pining, and icemav are cute together (ice is a tiger, mav is a fennec). they get their happy end

I see forever in your eyes

Having gotten together (and engaged in the same day), Rooster and Hangman don't get any less annoying with their behaviour. Rooster would even argue that their friends are more annoyed with them now, but he's too deliriously happy to care. He has the love of his life by his side, his friends surrounding him, and he's getting married. Life is great (and it's about to get even better)

 or shifter au with smitten puppy rooster, disgustingly in love hangster, some background icemav and ANOTHER proposal

The Parent Trap by Broke_Traveler {T}

Annie and Hallie had no clue they had a twin or who their other dad was, but a chance encounter has these two mischievous twins hatching a plan to get their dads back together.

The Final Masquerade by MerielTLA {E}

Some excruciating steps more and he finally saw it, the little apartment building he had been looking for. Ordinary in absolutely every way except one: It was home of the most dangerous man in the world…and that thought alone made his head spin even harder than it was. This was a bad idea. or A wounded hero, whose only option is to trust his greatest enemy.

IWTBY Verse by hangmanbradshaw {E}

I want to brainwash you into loving me forever

“So…this is fucking weird and I have no clue what to say here.” Bradley smiled warmly and leaned his forearms against the table. “Don’t worry, Mav already filled me in, and I’ll do it.” Jake blinked. “You’ll do it?” “Yeah.” Bradley sat back with a nod. “You want to come out, right? If us appearing to be in a stable relationship will help, then I’m in.” Or, Jake Seresin has it all- fame, money, a NFL MVP trophy, a Super Bowl appearance, a lonely house, and a problem. He wants to come out on his own terms. Enter Bradley Bradshaw, the solution to said problem, or maybe, the beginning of a new problem. After all, you don't fall in love with your fake boyfriend. aka the Fake Dating NFL AU

Wanna Be Your Left Hand Man

Europe calls. Jake & Bradley answer.

Dust is Everlasting (And Love Even Moreso) by ToukoJalorda003

If Time Rewound to Dust (Love Would Endure Anyway) {M}

All Rooster had ever wanted was to work for Jurassic World - his godfather did, and for his whole life, it had been his dream. Now he finally had it, and he…wasn’t so sure how he felt about Hangman. The man was just too dangerous, too unpredictable, and Rooster feared it would end in disaster. …But disaster had found them anyway, and now it was starting to look like it was too late to accept Hangman’s offer for a date. Damn.

When Dust is all That Remains (Love is Eternally Present) {M}

After the events of the park’s catastrophic closing, Bradley just wanted to rest. Maybe take a nap and remind himself what he’d nearly had. But he couldn’t do that, because an active volcano was going to wipe out the remaining dinosaurs - including Jake’s raptors. …And if it was possible, he wasn’t going to let that happen. Maybe, while he was at it, he’d finally get that date, too.

As We Lie In Fields Of Gold by Capt_JaneClaude {_}

Rooster is just playing the piano, intense, moving, almost tormented. There are no words, just notes, but Maverick feels like he can hear him singing.

Suitable Replacement by ReformedTsundere {E}

It's the middle of mid-term hell week, Jake's vibrator is broken, and the fastest Amazon can get him a new one is after the weekend. His only salvation seems to be the newest sex shop in town and the weirdest, hottest clerk Jake's ever seen.

Flying Conditions by elwenyere

Holding Pattern {E}

The thing about having a dead father everybody liked is that everybody’s got a bigger piece of him than Bradley does. ----- 5 times Bradley wasn't ready + 1 time he was

Punching Out {M}

Jake’s always been sharp and soft, but not in the right configuration. ----- Or, 5 times Jake can't always get what he wants + 1 time he gets what he needs

5 Times Rooster Fell Asleep On His Teammates And 1 Time He Did It To Maverick by Nickies_Nonsense {G}

When Bradley was kid he was all over people. You couldn’t get the boy to leave you alone if he wanted to be near you whether it was holding Mav’s hand as they walked, being picked up, or nuzzling into his shoulder in the evenings he simply insisted on being held. —— Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw has a habit of cuddling up to people when he’s sleepy which the daggers discover during training before the suicide mission.

No More Wasting Time by DraconisWing24441 {E}

Having just completed a mission that required multiple miracles, Bradley thinks the most miraculous thing of all is that he’s not furious at Maverick anymore. Or Hangman. Now that his relationship with Maverick is on the mend after talking about their past, Bradley starts to realize some other things. Like the fact that Hangman isn't such a bad guy and he maybe actually really likes him, like, a lot. Jake, meanwhile, starts to realize that Bradley may not, in fact, hate him for being an ass, while also trying to hide the fact that he’s been in love with Rooster for years. Without the anger characterizing every interaction, Bradley and Jake are left with the conclusion that there's more there that they hadn’t realized until now. But, as Bradley and Jake's icy relationship unexpectedly begins to thaw into a tentative friendship, the friction that existed between them sparks something deeper than they ever expected. Letting go of the past and respective fears is harder than they thought, but when it comes down to it, the question remains: will they have the courage to leap off their perches and take the shot?

I’m alright with a slow burn by lesbiseresin {M}

Maverick’s eyes lower to focus on the figure whose head barely reaches Copperhead’s hip, a blonde boy that looks to be around Bradley’s age. “And this must be Jacob.”

Jake,” the boy corrects. He only crosses his arms when Copperhead taps his shoulder in a silent reprimand, but Maverick doesn’t seem to mind.

He laughs and exchanges an amused look with Copperhead before moving his hand into a similar grip on Bradley’s shoulder. “Well, Jake. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Maverick. This is Bradley.”

Bradley blinks owlishly at them both until Maverick nudges him. “Hi.”

(alternatively: jake & bradley over the years)

Make someone happy by WaffleToaster {T}

Bradley Bradshaw feels like he has misjudged Jake Seresin when he finally gets to know him better after the mission and quickly comes to realise Jake is actually quite different from the Hangman persona he knew up until now. Much to his and everyone's surprise they actually get along with each other, they still bicker but that's to be expected when you're both of the same dominant type. But it's when Bradley starts feeling something more that he starts doubting the situation. The thing they called 'the tug' only happened between you and your soulmate. But that couldn't be correct, because two alphas couldn't feel 'the tug' for each other, right?

Down the Rabbit Hole by theinsouciantknitter {E}

A bet is a bet, and Rooster's not one to shy away. So when the Daggers challenge him and Hangman to a game of gay chicken, how is he supposed to say no? He quickly realizes he may have bitten off more than he can chew.

Stay the Night by theinsouciantknitter {T}

And if this is what we've got Then what we've got is gold We're shining bright and I want you I want you to know

we could make constellations by emseebeans {E}

It’s the night before the Dagger Squad is officially disbanded, and Bradley can’t sleep. Ever since he read the mission report, he can’t stop thinking about Jake. And when they run into each other in the halls of the barracks, one night might be enough to change their relationship forever.

blue memories by callsignvalley {E}

Taking a deep breath, Jake tries not to lose his nerve, summons the last bit of anger and discontent that’s been simmering for nearly a year now. “I want a divorce.” Bradley blinks from his spot on the annoyingly stylish chair next to the bed. Rolls the rocks glass of whiskey in his hands slowly before answering. “Okay.” + aka the musician bradley au

steal me with a kiss by abliafina {T}

What do you get when you take one ridiculously cocky model and one stubborn makeup artist? A recipe for disaster of course, but with some luck maybe the outcome won't be as bad as initially expected.

The Only Exception by mackwinnon {E}

Organized crime AU. Escort Jake meets Bradley in a club while he's with another client. Bradley's instantly intrigued and makes Jake an offer he can't refuse. It's just business. Until it isn't.  Or: Self-indulgent Hangster AU.

wreck my plans (that's my man) by Ravens_Words {T}

Fake dating turns into a fake engagement, which then snowballs into a fake (almost) wedding.

Anti-Camera Shy by ReformedTsundere {M}

"Look," Jake says, sighing as he pulls his arm across his chest to stretch out the taxed muscle of his shoulder. His words falter when a shadow appears in the doorway of his gym room, a body leaning casually against the frame, familiar and amused eyes watching him with a quirked brow. It kicks up something hot in Jake's belly. He can't stop himself from smirking, forcing himself to refocus on the phone before someone realizes he's distracted and starts asking questions he doesn't want to answer. "He's gonna have his opinions all he wants, the wrong ones, mind you, but I'm not gonna let him ruffle my feathers because he thinks street tacos beat out Gumbo Shack."

tell the truth, I look better under you by lesbiseresin {G}

Before Bradley knows it, there’s a hand landing on his shoulder and squeezing as Hangman slips past him towards the door. “Hope you don’t snore. Otherwise I might have to shove your face into a pillow,” he tells him, completely cheerful. It makes Bradley want to reach for his collar again, face no longer numb but burning hot in a way he hopes doesn’t show through in color. Instead, he tightens his jaw and does what he’s been doing for the past few days every time Hangman tries to push one of his buttons. He ignores him. (alternatively: and they were bunkmates…)

the stars align (just one time) by OfTheDirewolves {M}

In one world a prince fell in love with a lord but the world was cruel and they were robbed of the time they deserved... In another two pilots meet at top gun but it will take them too long to fully understand what they mean to each other. or Jake and Bradley fall in love over multiple lifetimes, will they finally get it right? or will they keep getting in their own way? A Bradley Bradshaw x Jake Seresin Reincarnation AU

Flying in Less Than Ideal Circumstances (And the Best Possible Outcomes) by ToukoJalorda003 {M}

All Rooster had ever wanted was to be a WSO. He’d never had any interest in being a pilot - and when he finally got what he wanted, he’d hardly expected to be paired with Hangman, of all people. But perhaps it wasn’t all bad. Maybe. If he would be willing to admit that Hangman wasn’t terrible. That might have been easier to do, though, before everything went just slightly wrong.

Yes, Alpha by chase_acow {E}

“I’m not looking to get bitched, Bradshaw,” Jake drawled, tipping his head back to kill the rest of his bottle. “So, whatever little fantasy you’ve got going on in that little hamster wheel of yours, get over it.” “But, you-” Bradley stuttered to a stop, twisting around to plant his elbow on the bar so he could study Jake better. The man was handsome as ever, with his sharp jaw and long torso leading down to his low-slung pants. “You like it. You like . . . taking it.” “I do,” Jake agreed, sliding his empty bottle onto the counter and then pulling Bradley’s fresh one from his numb fingers to take a drink. “I also like being me. Christ, Rooster, look at me. Why would I change anything about this perfection?”

Midnight at the Shoreline by monkiedude {T}

Jake likes to plan their beach week. Bradley messes it up.

Most Arduously by MadeItUp {M}

When the Dean of Hale South Western College announces a prestigious new writing course, rival Associate Professors Dr Jake Seresin and Dr Bradley Bradshaw find they've got to co-operate. But as the two of them pit their disciplines against one another, each set on proving the other wrong, they're grudgingly forced to admit that in order to teach, they've got to learn... Jake stares forlornly at his laptop as he contemplates withdrawing his acceptance. But damn if that wouldn’t make Bradley fucking Bradshaw happy. And Jake would rather drive himself to the depths of misery than give that dickhead one single second of satisfaction.

make a lil' room for me by callsignyours {G}

Jake somehow ends up with Bradley's dog.

august sipped away (like a bottle of wine) by k0ralik {E}

Jake isn’t sure when he and Bradley started seeing eye to eye. Maybe it was when Rooster was chosen to fly the mission instead of him and he had to step down, following orders, forced to give up competitiveness. Maybe it was the countless games of poker and many, many bottles of beer later. or: 5 times Jake and Bradley go for it in not-so-private places + 1 time they actually find a bed

Lost Boy by Earthangel_44 {E}

Jake has to face the consequences after he stole from the pirate.

31 Flavors and Counting by infinitejaust {G}

Jake has a terrible sweet tooth. He doesn’t indulge it much - you don’t get to have great abs and dessert every day. But there's something about that little concessions stand down the beach... For the prompt: Meet-cute at the beach! Bradley works at an ice cream shop and meets lifeguard Jake.

We're Crashing Like Waves by Renai_chan {M}

Jake is a movie star looking to get some surfing lessons and Bradley is a surfer living a quiet life in Hawaii. Like the land and the sea, they come together on the edges of O‘ahu.

Days Like This by chase_acow {E}

Jake's in Hawaii to lose himself after getting the Navy's first air-to-air kill in decades. Instead he finds a ramshackle diner, a cast of odd characters, and possibly the love of his life. Bradley goes to the Hard Deck to order waffles. He orders waffles. He goes to the Hard Deck to get some waffles. He goes to the Hard Deck, and who is this hot asshole acting like they know each other?

What's my worth? by WaffleToaster {E}

Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight… These were the only thoughts that rang through his head. Twenty-nine, thirty. Two breaths. One and two. They weren't friends, they didn't even like each other and whatever they had going between them meant nothing. And then the mission happened.   Or how Bradley and Jake went from hating each other to caring a little too much.

If Safety was all That was Desired (And Love was all That Could be Offered) by ToukoJalorda003 {M}

For an embarrassing length of time, one which he didn’t feel like admitting, Hangman had been trying his best to safeguard Rooster - even when the man in question couldn’t have been bothered with him. But Hangman understood that much - he just wanted Rooster safe. So when he noticed that Bradshaw was sicker than normal, well…he wasn’t going to let that slide.

Cuddle Bug in Training by ReformedTsundere {T}

"I'm not dating any psychopaths this time, Nat, promise," Bradley says, trying for lightness but only managing something so tired he's surprised he hadn't yawned the whole way through. Natasha snorts, her arms unfolding, but the look on her face remains painfully unimpressed.

An Unexpected Visitor by DraconisWing24441 {T}

It's been a year since the mission, a year since Bradley and Jake have seen each other and decided to start over, but as friends. But when Jake decides to show up at Bradley's house one night, old feelings are rekindled and starting over, together, suddenly seems a hell of a lot more possible than before. ***** Unlocking the door, Bradley yanked it open with the full intention of ripping into the person pounding on his door for no good reason only to freeze as the open door revealed a soaking wet Hangman on his front stoop.  Frozen in shock – he hadn’t seen Hangman since the mission ended – Bradley found himself just staring at him as he tried to process the presence of the blonde aviator in front of him. Bradley asked, “Hangman?  Wh–what are you doing here?  And why are you soaking wet?”

Southern Summer Nights by lizbeth_e {T}

Badly injured after an accident while on deployment, Bradley finds himself stuck in a small Texas town with his estranged godfather, wishing he could be almost anywhere but here. Until a certain blonde rancher makes him start to think otherwise. Jake is just trying to keep his head above water as he takes care of his family ranch, working day in and out, after a family tragedy left them all a little off-kilter. But when an injured fighter pilot stumbles into his life, he finds that some of that stress and responsibility begins to fade away.

like sticky sweet lemonade by greatea {E}

When Jake looks back down at this phone, he notices for the first time that he has two unread messages, along with three unanswered calls. After he had left the plane, he had stuffed his phone in his pocket, just after he had punched the address of the cottage into the car. His reception must have been shit, because one of the calls came in just after he landed. Javy must have given up on calling him after that, because the last two notifications from him are a message, sent just thirty minutes ago. It seems that Tash forgot you were staying at the cottage, she only told me today. Bradley asked her a few days ago n she gave him the other key. srry!!! And then don't kill each other pls. - or the one where Jake and Bradley haven’t seen each other in four years and run into each other on vacation. Jake’s not happy.

take a deep breath, baby (let me in) by perishablealex {E}

It’s been months after the mission and Bradley still feels unstable on his feet, can’t stop the tremor in his hands. It’s been months and he should be okay — but he’s not. After the fourth of July, things begin to change. Or: Bradley deals with PTSD after the mission with an unexpected companion by his side.

One and Only by hngstercity {E}

“C’mon, Bradley.” Oh, now he’s using his real name? Fuck him. “You haven’t had anyone after him.” “I did. You know I did, Maverick. You’re the nosiest Alpha I know, and I know you know any time I’ve slept with someone. You can’t keep your fucking nose out of my business.” And he means it literally, because anytime Bradley had someone over, the next day Pete would always inflate his nostrils to process every single scent that came out of Bradley. Including his hormones, including Jake’s missing ones. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. You haven’t had anyone you loved after him. You haven’t mated. If I asked you to talk to me about love, would you tell me about someone that isn’t him?” No. And that’s the fucking problem. -  Jake is back in town, and Bradley is forced to face him, their past and their future.

in another life by lemqnie {M}

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw is too afraid to take up his own Weapons System Officer. He meets WSO Jake "Hangman" Seresin, and the fear gets worse: he falls in love with him.

Let Me Face Hurricanes by Cristinuke {E}

Hangman and Rooster are caught and held captive by the enemy. This is always less than ideal, but then they learn their captors decide to take a different approach in interrogation, and they suddenly realize that escape is about to get a lot harder.

You've Got Me Hypnotized by theinsouciantknitter {E}

Jake has a problem. A six foot one, hundred and eighty pound, absolutely fucking stacked problem. It’s got auburn curls, rugged scars, honey brown eyes. It’s the kind of problem that makes him want to slam his head into a wall and then maybe mope over a Jane Austen novel. The problem haunts both his dreams and his waking hours. The problem also hates him, which is just the icing on the cake because the problem is Bradley Bradshaw, and Jake is in love with him.

The New Revolution by Brenda {E}

Jake Seresin is the biggest asshole Bradley's ever met, with a competitive streak that borders on the pathological, has no idea how to keep his goddamn mouth shut, starts shit just to watch the sparks fly, treats his body like a temple and never lets anyone forget it, runs laps around everyone up in the air (well, everyone except Mav and Phoenix) — And as God is his fucking witness, one day Bradley is going to snap and kill him. (By which, what Bradley really means is, he wants to fuck Jake so bad it's making him stupid.)

cosa nostra (this thing of ours) by lemqnie {_}

Bradley is the prettiest thing Jake has ever laid eyes on. It's a shame he's a rival gang's heir and Jake has to kill him.

Song #86 by LadyLanera {T}

How would the bar scene of changed things if Rooster kissed Hangman instead?

Misconceptions by SamHeartfilia {M}

Jake "Hangman" Seresin received an incomplete mating claim from one Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw a week after graduating from the Naval Academy. No one but his best friend know, and now that the uranium mission is over, things are looking up. His claim is completed and he's feeling like himself for the first time in years. Of course, everything starts change when his secrets come out. Secrets he was only just coming to terms with himself.

Priest 'verse by theinsouciantknitter {E}

One Look From You (And I Would Fall From Grace)

Jake didn’t expect this when he moved in with his grandmother. He expected to be roped into attending church with her, that’s all fine and dandy. He didn’t expect that the priest would look like that, though. He didn’t expect that he would be funny, and quick-witted. He didn’t expect him to be that young. He didn’t expect to fall in love with him.

Like a Little Prayer

Bradley has a difficult decision

Before This River Becomes an Ocean

Conversations must be had, and this is one Jake wants to avoid.

It Goes Like This (the Fourth, the Fifth)

Jake just has to get through the planning of the wedding, and then they're home free.

the Minor Fall, the Major Lift

A steadfast resolution

if you're looking for absolution (well get on your knees) by milestaller {E}

Jake comes home to Texas for the summer, where he meets his church's new priest. Tempting him feels like the best kind of bad idea.

get into it (yuh) by milestaller {E}

When Jake wakes up with a problem that he needs to deal with quickly, Rooster offers to lend a helping hand. Out of the goodness of his heart, obviously.

elevated levels by ginnydear {E}

A five year mission is a long time, especially when you're a first time captain.

what time is it where you are (i miss you more than anything) by cryinginthebronco {G}

Sipping on his coffee, Jake unlocks his phone and smiles to himself when he’s greeted by a stream of new messages. There are a few from his sisters and Javy, but he gets those out of the way with short replies. The thread he leaves for last is filled with short messages, photos, and a couple of videos, and Jake has to bite his lip to keep himself from smiling like an idiot. It takes him a couple of sweeps to get to the first unread message that makes warmth spread in his chest as he reads it. or jake and bradley trying to navigate a long-distance relationship

When the Waters Run Deep (Trust Them not to Pull You Under) by ToukoJalorda003 {M}

In all of Jake’s life, all he had ever wanted was to be a marine biologist. He adored the ocean and it’s inhabitants more than anything else. He thought he had everything he’d ever wanted. Until his boss sent him on a mission that he’d almost died on - forcing him to realign his perspective, and realize perhaps there was something else he wanted, after all.

Your Voice Can Take Me There by greenstuff {E}

“I’m not that drunk,” Bradley protests. Jake stops pushing him and falls in step at his side instead. Bradley immediately misses the warm pressure against his back. “So you don’t want to go back to your place?” Jake asks in an undertone.

jet blue skies by winterbitch {M}

Neither Hangman nor Rooster have any idea how come none of their friends know they're married, and have been for years. Sure, they're not the most affectionate in public, but they're smitten with each other, and to be honest, they went at it in way too many public spaces not to be caught. Apparently, their friends and Captain are just not that bright, which turns very interesting when Rooster becomes obsessed with getting Mavering and Iceman together. Somehow, through it all, neither Hangman nor Rooster realise their marriage is somehow a secret... or secret relationship hangster but their friends are just idiots + icemav getting together + a lot of fluff

(sometimes I feel) like a monkey pilot by charlie_mou {_}

Mav’s both eyebrows twitched. “That does sound like it’s going to be a problem.” “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, making himself look straight ahead, avoiding eye contact. “He’s a shithead in the same way you are.” “Bradley,” Mav said, and he was using that tone, the one that made Bradley feel like he was fifteen again. “What? It’s true. He has the same lack of brain-to-mouth filter, doesn’t know when to quit, I can go on if you want,” he said, but Mav didn’t take the bait. They marched down the tarmac, getting closer and closer to the others’ hearing range, and Mav was still staring at him, expecting an explanation. He sighed. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.” “Your—” Mav exclaimed, falling a step behind Bradley, before catching up, striding inches away from Bradley’s side. “From before?” "Yep." “Why didn’t you say anything?” God, why was this tarmac so long? “As much as I’d prefer to avoid him, orders are orders, Mav.”  Or, it's time for the special detachment and Bradley's decisions from five years ago are finally catching up with him.

ignition by charlie_mou {_}

In a reality where Mav had an adult, honest conversation with his kid instead of going behind his back, said kid didn’t run off and cut contact -- no, he decided to figure out if there was something he wanted to do aside from being a naval aviator. And thus, Fire Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw has been working at San Diego Fire Department for close to fourteen years when the Dagger Squad is assembled for a special detachment. Or, 5 times Jake crossed paths with Fire Lieutenant Bradshaw and 1 time he met Maverick's son

slow down (you're doing fine) by charlie_mou {M}

"But have you ever thought about what happened after?" Suddenly, Jake felt like the tone alarm was going off and he was stuck in the cockpit with the hydraulics out. "After?" "His dad died before he even turned three. His mom died a week after he turned nine. Have you thought about what happened after?" Or, Seven years after their break up, Jake and Bradley are finally about to admit why it happened. But instead of resolving whatever there is between them, Bradley starts giving Jake heart attacks while in the sky - and Jake has a feeling it's all about more than flying. Going to Maverick for advice might just clear things up for him. (or, I heard 'slow ride' and 'waiting for the right moment' and made it into a backstory for all of Rooster's issues)

hold me like a grudge by lesbiseresin {M}

Whatever truce he and Hangman might’ve temporarily made on the beach still wasn’t enough for Bradley to want to hang out with the guy in his free time. Except, here he is with the Bronco pulled into one of the spaces that line the stretch of sidewalk beside Hangman’s house. He can see Hangman’s truck sitting in the driveway and the light for the living room turned on inside. Hangman is here, and so is Bradley. For what exactly, he isn’t sure. He knows he’s searching for something. An answer, maybe. Figuring that out would require thinking, which isn’t what this is supposed to be about, but the uncertainty must show on his face. Hangman opens the door without him even having to knock, eyebrows raised and the obvious question quick to come. “What are you doing here, Bradshaw?” (alternatively: in which bradley takes the phrase ‘don’t think, just do’ a little too literally)

Trouble With Comms by ForASecondThereWedWon {E}

Bradley gets himself a gig as Jake’s back-seater. Now that he’s a little more familiar with the circuit breakers, it’s easy to switch off the radio and be the only voice in Jake’s ear.

i’m looking your way by Hail_the_gay {T}

your face was the one i wanted my mind to conjure

Bradley Bradshaw finally arrives at Basic Training at age 25 and meets Jake Seresin, a royal pain in his ass — The men in the bunks surrounding him were already talking, a few louder than most. A blonde sitting across from him seems to be talking to the person above him. Bradley doesn’t want to look, making it obvious he’s been listening in, so he stares at his lap, eyes glossing over. “I’m from Texas, lived on a ranch for the first 18 years of my life until I went to Louisiana state for 2 years to get a bachelors in civil engineering. Then came straight out here after graduation. What about you?”

I’m trying hard to forget you

Mav pulled my papers.” Jake almost spits out his coffee. He’s sitting on the balcony on a nice July morning, cramped into a patio chair he took from his neighbors when they moved out. Bradley’s next to him on a plastic lawn chair, nursing a cup of tea. “Excuse me?” “Mav? My dad’s best friend? When I was 18, he pulled my papers to the Naval Academy. So I... I was stuck for four years. I went to UVA and got my degree until I put my papers in again. I was so obsessed with being able to go to the academy that I did that instead of just graduating from NROTC. I made sure he didn’t know and finally got accepted. I resented him for years. Still kind of do.” — Jake doesn’t know about Maverick until they’re together for a few years. Snapshots of Jake learning about Maverick and not forgiving him.

watching from afar

“I am good, Rooster. I am very good.” The cocky grin on his face doesn’t faze the aforementioned Lieutenant, who nods at Bob and rolls his eyes at Hangman, who continues after a pause. “In fact, I am too good to be true.” “Shut up, Seresin. No one wants to listen to your whining on a Friday night. It’s just stressing everyone out more.” — The 5 times everyone thought Hangman and Rooster might have something going on, and the one time their suspicions were confirmed

it’s so weird to be back here

“Hey, where’d Bradley go? I thought he was going to be here.” “I don’t know. Maybe ask his friends? They’ve been here all night but I haven’t seen him once.” She gestures to the group of aviators at the pool table. They’re all crowded around Bob, silent, before bursting into cheers and high fiving the man. He doesn’t see Hangman either, unable to find the cowboy hat he usually pairs with his civvies. “No Jake either.” He points out. Penny looks up and frowns when she can’t see Hangman. — Maverick finally finds out about Bradley and Jake

i was enchanted to meet you (please don't be in love with someone else) by starryinspace {G}

“Your date bailed? On Valentine's Day?” Jake flashes Bradley a toothy grin but there’s no warmth behind it. “Broke up with me, actually. Five minutes ago.” “Shit.” - or jake gets dumped on valentine's day & bradley comes to the rescue.

speak low if you speak love by andrealyn {T}

You'd think that after the Dagger mission, Hangman and Rooster would pull their heads out of their asses and realize that they're both being idiots about how they clearly want to get together. Unfortunately for everyone around them, their stubbornness reigns supreme. It leaves their friends with no choice but to Much Ado the shit out of matchmaking them together.

bad idea, right? by ok_thanks {M}

From: ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!!! (AGAIN) No greeting for me? Don’t I get that Bradshaw hospitality?

I took the stars from your eyes and then I made a map by dalearden {E}

Before Jake knows it, his jaw has dropped and the gears in his brain have stopped turning as he struggles to process what he’s seeing. He’s seen Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw all dressed up before, a few times over through the course of their respective careers that kept forcing them together as though fate was playing a twisted little game with them, but somehow, this time it hits different.

Maverick for America by LetPeteBeMaverick

Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all {M}

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell may not have won the Top Gun trophy, but he did win the 2020 Presidential Election. Luckily, his wingman is there to keep his feet on the ground.

Seven Visitor Passes {T}

The seven people who visit Bradley Bradshaw in the hospital.

There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin {E}

Jake first kisses Bradley outside the Hard Deck in 2012, but that's only half the story.

Schooner Or Later by TwiceInABlueM00n {G}

Jake “Hangman” Seresin is a sea otter. And Bradley Loves Sea otters.

Cherry by lovelybattle {E}

Hangman is sitting in the sand, ankles crossed in front of him as he reclines to look up at the stars. He rests his weight on one hand, the other occupied with the second popsicle he’s eaten in a row, this one red. Bradley has been watching the entire time.

Yin and Yang by Just_A_Regular_Person {M}

Rooster’s and Hangman’s relationship was…complicated. They were opposites of each other but could still complete each other. They like to tell themselves that all they do is fight and can never stand to be in the same room with each other unless someone says a catty comment. But deep down, their fighting was because they could never tell each other their secrets. Their inner demons. So they thought they could solve everything with just a physical relationship. Sex. Silencing words with just a kiss. But after awhile, they realized kisses, sex, holding hands, and hugs could not solve something that needed to be said in words. So that’s when they called it quits. Until they meet again at Top Gun.

hot as a fever, rattling bones by Notchka88 {E}

If the weather is going to be even half as bad as the dire warnings suggest, they should drop by the store before the heatwave starts—Bradley will probably have a comparison of A/C models and specs before the day’s over—but instead of agreeing sensibly, Jake decides to put his foot in it. There’s something about his need to rile Bradley up that overrides all his common sense. “Just sayin’—in Texas that’s a regular week, not a,” he adds air quotes for extra obnoxiousness, injecting a dose of scorn into his voice, “heat advisory.” (Jake lays a trap and gets caught in it.)

Aim Small Miss Small by cheaptrickandacheesyoneliner {T}

Jake always liked pretty things. Growing up, he led with his eyes first—latching onto the shiny, bold, and confident. It took a bit for the lesson to sink in that some pretty things aren’t for having and keeping. Not that it ever stopped him wanting. Bradley and Jake met years before being called back to Top Gun, but they didn’t get off on the right foot and Jake’s never been able to let it go.

be the ocean where I unravel by whimsicule {T}

He’s not even thirty years old. A lieutenant in the United States Navy. A highly-decorated aviator with two air-to-air kills. And he’s suddenly gone ahead and become scared of the goddamn sea. What a fucking joke.

[midnightdemonhunter]

Finally a guy with my sense of humor!

[yournotsolocalcryptid]

Room For Two

part 4/?

PREVIOUS (i guess we belong to each other) | NEXT (One)

tags: @transeliot @mentallyunstablebish @sarah0687 @@cjand10 @warmommy if you would like to be added or removed from my writing tag just lemme know :)

summary: you and billy arrive at your home and you tell him he'll be sleeping in your bed... alone

pairing(s): Billy/Four x gender neutral!reader

Word Count: 932

Warnings/Authors notes: emotions, repressed feelings, angst, fluff, there's only one you guys and there will remain one bed for the rest of the series so... mention of hospitals and injury, crying, negative and complex emotions. poor writing skills, poor proofreading and editing, an american writing a brit. I know its been super long since the last part but here ya go

When you and Billy arrive at your doorstep after leaving the hospital (for the second time), you start to panic again, just as you’d done the night before. Billy coming home with you and staying at your place for days or weeks on end wasn’t anything new so why was your stomach twisting like that? You were wondering if Billy was nervous at all when you felt his hand on your wrist, a soft request for your attention. You turned to face him and for a moment you both just looked at each other, you both had so much to say and just were not sure how to say it or where to start. You waited for Billy to say what he had obviously wanted to but instead, he just pulled you into a tight hug, the kind of hug only he could give you. The kind of hug you’d missed desperately since he’d gone. 

   “I’ve missed you, love” he said, his lips brushing your skin as he spoke. Then, after what felt like an eternity and yet, not quite long enough, he let go, stepped around you and continued to your door.

   You shook off the feelings stirring inside you as you spun around to follow him. You unlocked the door and stepped inside, Billy at your heels. You flipped on the light, slipped off your shoes and locked the door behind you. You turn around to find Billy wandering around the small area you call home, re-familiarizing himself with the space he’d once known so well. 

   “you can have the bed. Amy said you’d have to be somewhere comfortable and you shouldn’t get up or move more than necessary for another few days at least and you'd have to continue to take it easy for the next couple of weeks because of your stitches” 

   “Why do I get the bed?” 

   Your brow creased in confusion “I just told you, You need to- 

   “No, why do I get the bed to myself? Why aren’t we getting the bed?” 

   Your mouth dropped open as words failed you. 

   “It’s not like we haven't shared a bed before” at this point he was no longer looking around the room but directly at you, his expression one of determined curiosity, as though he was daring you. Daring you to do what you didn't know. To confess why you didn't just share the bed to begin with? To join him? To hold your ground and sleep on the couch?

   “I’ll take the couch. I like the couch” 

Knowing arguing wouldn't help, all he said was “there's room for two if you no longer fancy the sofa”

   Later that evening as you lay on the sofa, wide awake and becoming more and more uncomfortable as the hours drug on you couldn't help but think of Billy in your bed. Warm beautiful Billy in your warm, comfortable bed. His words bouncing around in your brain. You turned over in one last-ditch attempt to stay where you were. 

“There’s room for two if you no longer fancy the sofa” 

you gave in with a huff and you hauled yourself off your makeshift bed and made your way over to the ajar door of your bedroom. You paused in the doorframe, questioning your judgment. The soft moonlight from the window illuminated Billy's face as he slept. He looked so peaceful and the scene was so familiar. You nudged the door slightly further open as you entered, then you lifted the covers and slid in next to the blond. He wrapped himself around you the instant you were comfortable and mumbled in your ear,   “I knew you’d cave eventually. Knew you couldn't resist”

   The next morning you awoke with billy half on top of you. He was sleeping soundly, his breath still deep and steady. You carefully moved just enough so you could roll to face him, but remain within his reach. He shifted a little but remained asleep. You’d missed this and everything about him but things had changed. 

   When billy left you were broken and since he came back all you can think about is how he lied and how he was able to abandon you and your heart broke again. Your eyes welled with tears and you slipped the rest of the way out from under him and headed to the bathroom, shutting both the bathroom and bedroom doors quietly behind you. 

  The room was only lit by the dim cold early morning light but you didn't care, turning on the lights hadn't even crossed your mind. You leaned on the sink, head hung low and willed yourself not to cry but you knew it was a battle you wouldn't win. Your breath was ragged as the first tear fell with more quick to follow. You turned away from your reflection, your back hitting the door softly and you slid to the ground. Tears streamed down your face and you sat, quietly sobbing as the sun rose higher in the sky. When the tears finally slowed and your breathing calmed, the small room was bathed in sunshine, starkly contrasting your mood.    After a while of just zoning out, your mind and heart numb to it all, you wiped your face of the stray half-dried tears still clinging to your face and stood. With a deep breath, you left the bathroom, unsure of how much time had passed. You took a few steps toward your small kitchen, thinking of breakfast then you stopped cold. A man you’d never seen before was sitting on your couch looking at you expectantly. 

[crybaby-bkg]

why every time I get an angsty yandere idea it always applies to gojo the best :(((

[latrodectal]

i remember a supernatural/dark angel bnf who bragged about working in hollywood and knowing so much about everything and who was tbh kind of a giant snob and an asshole who flipped out at the reference to the exorcist in the episode that featured linda blair because she didn’t get that it was a reference.

[cutie-writes]

A Firsthand Secondhand Guide to Teyvat: An Unwilling Traveler’s Adventure

A Genshin Impact Fanfiction

At the start of his journey in finding his missing sister, Aether stumbles upon and old yet interesting journal in the favonius library. Torn to shreds over the years, he decides to use the remaining blank pages to fill out his own guide.

He didn’t know that the author was the one person he’d been searching for.

ao3 link

[pennedbylisse]

MASTERLIST

stop comparing, just keep writing ⭒⊹˚. ♡🧸 ๋࣭ ⭑🪐✩ ⭑🤎 ⋆⭒˚｡₊ ⊹

AO3

author introduction

KTH

series

Between Comfort & Chaos

current wc: 6k dynamics: childhood rivals | rivals-to-reluctant-lovers | predestined soulmates synopsis: the past comes around full-circle to haunt you when you find out he's your soulmate. do you: a) reluctantly give fate a chance and let bygones be bygones, b) flip him off and storm away, clinging to your hatred or c) become so overstimulated that you hurl all over his shoes and run away like a coward? notes: it's chaotic, babes, but also lowkey comical??; meant to be lighthearted and feel-good

one shots

Neverland in August

wc: 3.7k dynamics: peterpan!tae x wendy reader (ish) | forbidden love | right person, wrong conditions synopsis: as a freckled, pig-tailed little girl, your mother always assured you that you could have all that you ever dreamed of. all that you ever dreamed of involved him. gliding through the grass blades of a backyard, in youthful roleplays, he was always an integral part; your husband, when playing house; your knight, when trapped in a tower (your humble tree house); a partner in crime, when raiding the kitchen of food. naively, you held the expectation close to your heart, that he'd always be part of your life. but time is cruel in more ways than one, but especially in the way it stretches, sags and wrinkles things beyond recognition. he's no longer your partner in crime rather a ghost quivers in place of the boy you once new. naively, again, you think you can revive it, fix it. he's not yours, and the grief of a dying dream aches deep in your bones. notes: biding time until the inevitable unfolds; growing pains; star lore; seashell lore; sad lap grind (lol); skinny dipping; no eventual smut; no happy ending; implied romance between characters but it's not something viable; childhood sweethearts falling out; low-key angst

PJM

series

Operation Cupid

current wc: 7.4k dynamics: waiter!jimin plays cupid, cautious fmc undoes all the tangles | extrovert jm x introvert fmc | she fell first, he's emotionally oblivious but eventually falls harder | f2l synopsis: jimin's a full-time father, full-time waiter and part-time matchmaker for his best friend, namjoon. he fails to realize the grave consequences that materialize at the trivial tug of a string, or two, until things are possibly unredeemable. norah's in between jobs at the moment. gave a chance to this homely diner just a stroll from her apartment. it's old, dusty and falling apart but it helps pay bills. the waiter has a subtle way of making her heart somersault but she'll die on a hill of silence before admitting it. notes: dilf!pjm; intimacy issues; playing house as a love language

one shots

Whoops! It appears this entry is not yet filled. Check again later.

JJK

series

Of Marble & Flesh

description and stats you kiss a marble statue at the louvre, on a dare, and it'll come to haunt your heels...literally.

Boy Next Door

current wc: dynamics: synopsis: your neighbor has some questionable nightly rituals. you never meant to meddle, but once the information fell into your lap, you found yourself caught in a web of curiosity. notes: neighbor!jjk; barista!jjk; exotic dancer!jjk; camboy!jjk; jjk does a little bit of everything to get by; who really is jeon jungkook?

one shots

Whoops! It appears this entry is not yet filled. Check again later.

KNJ

series

Intellectual Crush

current wc: 3.0k, ongoing, unedited dynamics: anonymous penpal correspondents synopsis: still figuring out the vibes. sort of a collection of vignettes on namjoon's trips to the bookstore. laced with life commentary and philosophical influence. notes: inspired by 'Dash & Lily' Netflix series; mystery's alluring

one shots

Whoops! It appears this entry is not yet filled. Check again later.

MYG

series

Ink 'n' Petals

The Raven

Other Fandoms

Whoops! It appears this entry is not yet filled. Check again later.

Personal Pieces

Essays

An Individual Analysis on the Meaning of Writing

a study on the evolution of the individual relevance of writing through the years autobiographical. non-fiction.

Original Character Works (Non-fanfiction)

[gypsylarry28]

Outlander inspired Larry fic! (ongoing)

1948: Louis Tomlinson unenthusiastically follows through with his wife's desire, Eleanor, to visit the standing stones of Craigh na Dun. He thinks not to much of it, until one afternoon, Louis is catapulted through the circle of stones and vanishes 200 years into the past. He is met with a band of outlawed smugglers, whom takes him on a fascinating, unforeseen journey. Amid the chaos and danger, Louis finds himself being drawn to the smugglers' leader, the infamous Harry Styles. Louis finds himself torn between two lives, which one will he choose?

or the au where Louis Tomlinson travels 200 years back and slowly but helplessly falls in love with an outlawed smuggling criminal, Harry Styles.

Soul from the Stars - Chapter 1 - gypsylarry28 - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own]

[theeviltriplet-fromao3]

Had a good old 10 min writing session today, which is more than I can say for the past few days

… oops

[revengeromance]

I miss you vampire au that won’t be updated for another couple of weeks and I hate you waycest that is consistently being posted in the MCR tag on the daily

[whaleok]

Summary: It's been four months since the defeat of Voldemort. Heartbroken and traumatized, Hermione heads toward her final year at Hogwarts, alone. But Hogwarts isn't the same, and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is causing waves within the Wizarding community. Lycanthropes and Death Eaters alike remain unaccounted for, and people are still missing. Even worse, Hermione finds herself drawn to the completely changed Malfoy, an obsession she can't quite let go of.  

Finally. Chapter 8 is up. Which means I am back again, shamelessly self-promoting!(: I’m not sure why this chapter was so difficult for me. Yes I do, I’m just totally denying it. But here we are, hurray! How do other fanfic writers update so quickly? Anyone have any guidance on that? Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! It’s a longer chapter this go around and I’m always appreciative of everyone’s comments, kudos, and reactions <3 Artwork by the lovely: 𝗰𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗸𝗮𝘁𝘁 If you'd like to give her a follow, you can check out her portfolio here: https://celestikatt.carrd.co/ Also, here’s a spotify playlist to go along with it (if you’re interested in that type of thing.) : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5d1lq2m08eQCmaWjT7BGKw?si=9db22cd372fd4732

[stellastarsworn]

...

[areus-in-a-little-cave]

okay I did a little discoursing on twitter but like this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen I’m just laughing