#rueben wording

[simmingonthelow]

"You Are My Eternity"

~Macha Wording

Poses (slightly maybe edited) by @rebouks (top 3), @hannahssimblr (mid 2), and @lonerswhimsie (bottom 1).

[horseshoegirl]

Set Me Alight: Part 10 - Mount Everest

📜All I'm saying for this one is... Natasha had it coming...

❗️+18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character (s), Angst, Yelling, Verbal arguments and fights, standing up for friends, Minor Bob Floyd x Original Female Character, Minor Mickey Garica x Orginal Female Character, Third Person POV, Privacy invasion, Angst, Grace and Cora are done with the BS, missing persons, mentions of a parent passing away from cancer, panic, and bullying.

Thank you, @sarahsmi13s and @tgmreader, for beta-reading this before I posted! I felt the pressure on this one!!!

#6.5k

Part 9 | Masterlist | Part 11

*Grace*

Grace didn't live up to her namesake when she found Mickey and Cora. The couple was lurking near the entrance to the waterfall, wondering what the hell was going on. Grace ran to them rapidly, panic seizing near breaking heart.

"Jake and Maeve are in trouble," she cried as she grabbed Cora's wrist.

Neither Cora nor Mickey said a word, willingly letting Grace drag them away towards the rocky slope. Once they reached the base, Cora finally asked her what she had meant. But Grace paid her no mind, already starting to march up that ridge, rocks and mud be damned.

Unknown to her, Grace hadn't realized she had been openly crying at this point. But it had roused the attention of the rest of the group, who had scattered in the aftermath of the failed proposal. One by one, they shot off from wherever they had been, hoping to figure out why she had suddenly started crying.

Or, for some, relishing in whatever drama was currently unfolding

Grace ditched Cora’s wrist halfway up, instinct pressuring her to let go to get there faster. She nearly slipped in the mud because of it, not that she cared.

Maeve needed someone. Nothing else mattered.

But once Grace reached the top of that ridge, half expecting to find her boyfriend, she let out a haunting cry instead.

She wasn’t there. Jake wasn’t there. And neither was Bob.

She cried out his name. Once and twice, down the riverbank and off into the thick bush. All three of them could have been further off, but to Grace, it only affirmed that something had happened. Mickey and Cora kept trying to get her to explain, but Grace didn’t notice. Her concern for Maeve and Jake morphed into desperate concern for Bob, wondering if he had succumbed to the same fate. 

And it was then Grace sucked in a sharp, desperate breath. She was alone in a group that wouldn’t stand up for Maeve when it mattered. Would they believe her when she thought something had happened to her? To Jake? 

There was also the little fact Natasha had been the only one to come back down from this hill. Grace didn’t think she could bring herself to harm Maeve physically, but after her failed proposal, who's to say she was incapable of holding back her anger? 

Whose to say Maeve tried to apologize, and Natasha shoved it back in her face? Whose to say Natasha was planning to do the same thing to the poor girl she fucked over in her first year of college? 

Everyone made it to the top of the ridge, forming a circle around Grace. Bradley, Javy, and Rueben were the first to follow. They instantly asked Mickey and Cora what was happening, though they had no idea and relied only on what Grace had told them. Then Veronica, Jessica, and Natasha joined, though they remained silent, watching Grace try to count her breath.

Grace’s eyes searched the faces of those who stood around her. To say any single person in the group would believe her if she told them, Grace was almost sure they wouldn’t. At least, not without the weight of Bob’s voice. Ironically, maybe even Jake’s, if he wasn’t missing. 

And even then, with the knowledge she had now, she wasn’t sure anyone would go against Natasha for fear of history repeating itself. 

Standing in the centre of this horrible group, Grace realized she was alone, facing the possibility that she might have to do what she had mentioned to Bob after all. And she wondered if, without him here, she lacked the faith and courage to do so. 

She’d have to do it alone. And Grace was utterly terrified of the fact. 

Bradley stepped forward, reached for her elbow, and asked softly, "Grace, what the hell is going on?"

It was the worst possible thing Bradley could have done.

Grace whipped around violently, yanking her arm from his grasp, spitting out harshly, "Wow, now you all fucking care what's going on!"

Bradley jumped back, his hands in the air like Grace was wielding a gun, finger poised on the trigger. He was horrified - as was everyone else. Grace Mitchell was swearing for the first time they had all known her - Bradley included. And he couldn't help but shudder like ice had shot up his spine.

Never in a million years did he imagine this - his childhood friend, practically his adoptive sister - raising her voice and cussing him out, making him feel unusually vulnerable, like a child who had scraped their knee on the sidewalk.

One person was undeterred by Grace’s reaction. She calmly stepped forward in front of Bradley, softly reaching for Grace's cheeks with both hands. Framing her face, Grace could see nothing but a pair of sheer ice-blue eyes staring back at her. And for a moment, Grace finally felt like she could breathe.

Because Cora Kazansky's eyes had a softness to them that only Grace could perceive.

"Grace?" she asked softly.

Grace whimpered, uncaring who was around her. "They aren't here. He's not here. It's too quiet, Cora. Jake and Maeve should be tearing into one another, but they aren't... and... and..."

She had to take a pause, sucking in another deep breath before she choked over her vocal cords. " Somebody saw them, and Nat came up here, but only Nat came back down... so Bob went up, and now..."

Cora interrupted her before she could continue rambling, flexing her hands and shaking Grace's head slightly. "It's okay, Grace. We will find them. We won't leave this park until we do."

Grace laughed softly in her head. It was such an optimistic thing to say. It wouldn’t be that easy. 

And as if to prove her entire point to Bob and the whole reason she panicked in the first place, Natasha's voice and words followed like clockwork. “She walked off upset when I last saw her, back here, towards the falls. I’m sure she’s okay, Grace.”

“What about Jake?” Mickey suddenly asked. “Where is he then?”

Bradley scratched the back of his head. “He ah… might have tried to go after Maeve.”

All eyes shot to Bradley. “What?” he shrugged. “He found me after… and apologized. He’s been trying to work on fixing things with Maeve… I might have encouraged him to go find her.”

"You forgave him for that?" Natasha's voice was sharp.

Bradley squinted his eyes at her. "Why wouldn't I? He apologized. And meant it." 

Something appeared in Natasha's eyes that made Grace's stomach uneasy. Even as they narrowed and Natasha pressed her lips into a fine line, Grace couldn't help but wonder if Bradley had unknowingly struck a nerve.

"So Jake is likely with Maeve?” Cora asked, then turned to face Grace. “And they are in trouble.”

Grace nodded. "Think about it, Cora. The way those two have always gone at it? We'd hear them." 

Cora's brow furrowed. She couldn't deny Grace was right. 

“Oh, come on, Grace. We all know Maeve is a bit… Melodramatic…” Natasha remarked. “They are probably off in the forest shitting on each other, and sooner than later, they’ll come back with their tails between their legs.” 

Jessica and Veronica laughed, and Grace couldn’t hide how she stiffened. But Cora… Cora looked like she was actively struggling to hold back her anger. And Grace knew, at that moment, she should never have assumed she had been alone in the first place. 

“Melodramatic?” Cora hissed, her voice low and dangerous. “Are you seriously shitting me right now? Do you even know why you followed Grace up onto this ridge? Were you just going to stand around and make nasty ass comments about her? Or were you waiting for the right moment to ask what the fuck happened to your supposed best friend? What happened to Jake? Even Bob ?” 

Bradley watched Natasha anxiously for her reply, wondering why Natasha seemed so eager to dismiss her best friend. Looking at the bigger picture, if something did happen to Maeve and Jake, the proposal didn’t matter. He could always try again. 

Grace stepped forward, silently taking Cora’s hand in support. Cora’s grip could have rivalled her own, nearby bent on cutting off her circulation. Her voice was steady and cold when she said, “You were the only one to come down from this hill. Maeve didn't. Jake didn't either. Who's to say you didn't do something to her, huh?!"

Natasha shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her jaw clenching tightly. She called out defensively, “I didn’t do shit to her! I told her how her actions made me feel! She stormed off and told me she didn’t want to see me again!"

Grace scoffed, murmuring to herself under her breath. "That’s debatable."

There was a pause. Natasha opened her mouth, firmly stating, "I’m probably right! She’s on a walk, stewing over what she did. She’ll come back. She always does!"

That was Grace's breaking point. The cry crawled its way out of her throat, the gut-wrenching, frustrated sound making her curl her spine and tilt her head back with force as if she had been possessed. The desperate shout reverberated against the trees, the ground, and the stones, a disturbance more profound than anything else the forest had encountered that afternoon.

And it had encountered more than its fair share already.

Her voice croaked into silence, only for her eyes to single out the person she had deemed responsible for this entire fucking mess. Even Jessica and Veronica had the decency to step back from her target, leaving Natasha alone to face the wrath of Grace's upcoming remarks.

"You are a shitty ass friend, Natasha Trace!"

And like a stack of lined-up dominoes, Bradley, Bob, Mickey, Reuben, and Javy stiffened hard.

"I'm not a shitty friend!" She gasped. Grace was even more pissed off at Natasha's reaction, looking confused and upset over why she'd ever say such a thing in the first place. She didn't even let Natasha speak before the following words flew out of her mouth. "Nobody talks about it! Nobody dares utter a word about how you treat her, use her, walk over her?"

"Grace..." Bradley cautioned. The fallout over this would be massive, and even if they didn’t have all the facts, Bradley knew no matter what, there was no going back to the way things had been. While he had questioned Natasha's treatment of Maeve, this was neither the time nor place to handle this.

But Grace was too far gone to care about hurting her childhood friend’s feelings. She whipped up her hand, a single pointed finger shoved at eye level between them. Bradley shut up, though fear coursed through his stomach at the realization Grace would not let this go.

"Why the hell would you treat your supposed best friend the way you have?" Grace roared. "Why would you force two people together who hate each other all to watch you get engaged?! Why wouldn’t you tell her Jake was coming along?!”

There was a stunned silence that pressed down on everyone like a heavyweight. Natasha’s eyes widened, and her mouth still opened and closed like a fish to form words, though no sound came out.

“I’ve kept my mouth shut for too long because Bob asked me, but I can’t. I just fucking can’t anymore.”

Mickey stepped forward, his hands reaching out towards Grace. “Grace, you should…”

“No!” she shouted. “This needs to be said! Who the fuck cares what happens in the aftermath!”

Natasha finally found her voice, but it was weak and trembling. Grace, in her fury, couldn't tell if she was being sincere. "I thought they could handle it and figure their shit out for this. I thought this mattered enough..."

Grace recognizes what Natasha left out instantly. ' *I thought they could figure out their shit for me.'*

“You thought they could figure out their shit for you? Of course, your engagement mattered!" Grace shot back. "Why do you think they agreed to come along in the fucking first place? Why do you believe Maeve agreed, even knowing she’d forcibly be spending a week out here with Jake? You mattered to her, and you know it!” 

Natasha's face crumpled, tears welling up in her eyes. “They ruined everything! They couldn't shut up for one day or a week and just be civil! They had to make it all about them!"

Grace didn't soften; she couldn't. Not after all the times she stood by and kept her mouth shut. “What did you expect, Natasha? You forced them together, knowing they hate each other. You punished Maeve for surviving in the only way she knew how. And you never once tried hard enough to figure out what the hell happened between those two?!” 

Grace’s breath hitched as she tried to steady herself. 

“A good friend would have ensured she felt safe coming out here! A good friend would have grabbed Jake by the ear and laid into him! A good friend would have helped her try to work through her feelings. A good friend wouldn’t sit back and watch the chaos ensue when they have two hands and a heart to shoulder the burden! A good friend would say fuck the chaos! I'll burn in those flames with you!"

Natasha cried out. “What about me? Don’t I deserve to be happy too?!” 

Grace’s entire body shook with a mix of rage and anguish, her voice raw and piercing once more as she screamed, “It’s not always about you!” 

The intensity of her words seemed to hang in the air, heavy and unyielding. But Grace pushed on. 

"Maeve has been drowning the entire trip, drowning between making sure you saw none of her struggles and handling Jake. You've been too busy with twit one and two to realize it!"

"Wow, thanks, Grace," one of them barked.

Grace didn't look at them when she spat, "Trust me, I'm not losing sleep over the loss of the two of you."

The group fell silent, and no one dared to interrupt Grace as she continued. Natasha's eyes darted around, looking for support, but found only cold, unyielding stares.

 "Maeve never said a damn thing about what happened between her and Jake to you. How would she rather endure someone she hates for your friendship than tell you why? Did you ever stop for one second and wonder why?!”

 Natasha swallowed hard, her throat working visibly as she tried to push down the lump.

"You weren't the one who held her hand when Jake challenged her, or who heard her crying in her sleep in the tent beside her, or who offered to get someone to bandage her wrist after she got hurt!"

Mickey kicked a rock beside his foot, the stone skittering on the hard ground. "I can't even take credit for that," he said.

"Mick..." Cora warned gently. "Now isn't..."

"What?" he shrugged. "I can't. Jake asked me to check her wrist. I didn't even think to, and you didn't either."

Cora dropped her chin to her chest. "You didn't, Cora," he stressed before turning to the whole group. "None of us did. And the one person who did ask, Maeve, doesn't get along with him. What does that say about us?"

He turned towards Nat. "What does that say about her supposed best friend?"

Everyone shuffled uncomfortably, eyes darting to the ground or finding sudden interest in the surrounding trees. No one wanted to be the first to break the following silence, heavy with unspoken thoughts and fears. The shared belief resonated through the group that everything would be worse if they did.

A panicked shout of Grace's name took care of that for them, startling them all.

Bob tore from the bushes, half covered in spiky burs and small pieces of broken wood. He was panting hard, his arms bleeding with scratches and mud, and his legs not faring much better.

Grace cried out his name the second she saw him, bolting from where she stood, nearly tripping in relief. She slammed herself into his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around him, ensuring not a single inch was between them.

Bob returned her hug, shushing comforting words into her hair. “I’m here, Grace. I’m okay. I’m fine.” 

He wrapped a single arm around her body, looped up above her shoulder but down below her opposite arm, mindful of the mud and his wounds. Not that anyone noticed his injured state.

Everyone was too busy staring at his other hand, hanging lowly at his side, for Maeve’s map was tightly in his grasp, covered in dirt, damp, and practically ripped to shreds.

Mickey was closest, reaching for it only to hold the pieces with dangling fingers. The battered pieces of paper turned in his grasp, revealing three single gaping lines through the centre. It spun a few times before he declared, "These were made with claw marks."

"Claw marks?!" Bradley exclaimed, urged by Mickey's statement to rush forward. But inspecting the marks and the threads barely holding it together, he was horrified to see something else marking the page.

As soon as he had taken those steps closer, he stumbled back with a gasp. "That's a bear's footprint."

"A bear?!" Jessica and Veronica's voices overlapped, the shrieking making Cora and Grace roll their eyes.

Releasing Grace, Bob took the map back from Mickey, turning over to find what Bradley had seen. Nestled in the corner, streaked with mud and at the end of the claw marks, a collection of oblong and rounded marks, with the largest pad imprint dominating the centre only to extend beyond the page.

Bob saw bear tracks when he reached the end of Maeve and Jake's trail, the two of them having chased each other off into the dense forest. He hadn't thought much of it. Not until he saw the mud-stained rocks and the map six inches deep in the mud. He had panicked, grabbed the piece of paper and tore back through the bush, each step filling him with dread.

"Where did you..."

"There was a cliff just off the break in the treeline," Bob offered to Bradley.

"A cliff?" Bradley asked, his eyes wide. Bob could only nod in reply, his Adam's apple rolling in his throat as he swallowed.

"Did you .... look?" Mickey asked with caution. “Was there…”

Bob nodded and then shook his head, offering a quiet "They weren't there."

If anyone had let out a sigh of relief, nobody heard it. As if a gunshot had gone off to signal the start of a race, voices immediately launched into different explanations of what could have possibly happened. 

Someone shouted Maeve lost the map. 

Jake was elsewhere and coming back. 

Both of them got lost. Separately. Or together. 

Either one was on a walk. 

The bear came around long after they had been there.

If someone could say it, it was said aloud. The only thing anyone refused to entertain was the possibility of either one ending up dead. 

Grace and Bob remained quiet, hand in hand amongst the competing voices. Bradley was hurling something at Jessica. Mickey was hurling something at Veronica. Even Cora was fueling the fire by trying to get Natasha to admit she didn’t care about what happened to Maeve. 

One thing was obvious, though - they already believed they were right. No new information or confirmation from Bob, who found evidence of their whereabouts, would have been enough to stop them. Their need to be right had long won out over why they had been arguing in the first place.

Grace wondered if this was how Maeve felt and why she hadn’t told anyone about Jake. Given the chance, they probably wouldn’t have listened anyway.

There was a pause in the fighting, and somebody gave a high-pitched scoff. Everyone turned towards the sound and faced the brunette standing next to Natasha. Cora and Grace closed their eyes, almost bracing for whatever vapid comment would come hurling out her mouth next. 

Nothing could have prepared Grace for the reality of it, though. Jessica flicked one of her manicured nails off the other, seemingly sending a speck of dirt into the air. 

“Is no one going to point out the obvious? She probably ran off just to get attention, expecting Jake to chase after her. It's no coincidence she's named after a fly—always buzzing around him, thinking their ridiculous love-hate game will make him fall for her. Honestly, it's pathetic."

Grace’s hand tightened into a fist, her knuckles cracking under the force. Already on thin ice and running off embers, she was ready to throw that first punch despite knowing she shouldn’t. She opened her mouth, lips poised around the words ‘You bitch’ as she swung her hand back, ready to strike. 

But Cora, ever so calmly, stopped her. Grabbing Grace’s elbows from behind, she pulled her off her path. The words stalled on Grace's lips as she was tugged behind Cora's body, her friend already taking her place.

Where Grace had stepped forward in a fury, Cora’s attempt was more reserved, though no less scary. She slithered forward like a snake; her head tilted at such an angle that it looked like she was stalking her prey. Her blue eyes, wide and clear, never blinked or twitched, serving as what would have been poisonous teeth primed to strike. And with her hands carefully held behind her back, it was clear Cora had no intentions of holding back whatever truthful venom needed to be shared.

She didn’t even try to hide the hatred in her voice. "What the fuck is your point? Why the hell would you need to say that out loud or in general? Hmm?"

Not expecting the sudden calm, aggressive onslaught, Jessica stumbled back two steps, her back hitting a thorny bush. She squealed the sharp prick of the thorns against her skin through her thin shirt, making her jump forward and right back into Cora's path.

Something clattered to the ground, and both girls followed the sound. Jessica's bright pink phone lay upright in the dirt, the screen black except for a bright red dot and a counter slowly ticking away the seconds on opposing ends of the screen. When Cora lifted her head, eyes wide with wild fury, Jessica's face turned a shade paler.

Cora was not surprised in the slightest. "You just can't help yourself, can you?" she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. She bent down, scooping up the phone before Jessica could even bend down to get it.

“Give it back!” Jessica screamed, trying to swipe at Cora’s hand. But Cora merely lifted her hand out of reach, sending Jessica a nasty glare. “You were recording me without my permission. I have every right to get rid of it!”

Bringing the phone back down, Cora stopped the recording only to realize Jessica's phone was unlocked. She had seen those two at the falls and heard what they had bitched into their cameras. It hadn’t struck her then, Maeve not reacting to less than apparent remarks, but it did strike her now, the idea that maybe these two had more than anyone truly realized. 

Without hesitation, she pressed on the window in the bottom corner, opening Jessica’s album. She began scrolling through the content, her anger deepening when she saw the extent of Jessica's recordings—videos and audio clips of everyone. But most of all, there were recordings of interactions with Maeve. And Cora knew, without a doubt, they only had them with the intent to manufacture them later.

Cora’s face hardened. “You've been recording all of us, haven't you? All our conversations, private conversations... and Maeve. You've been targeting her the most!"

Jessica opened her mouth to protest, her eyes darting around as she searched for an escape. She quickly snarled out, "You can't tell me Midge acts the way she does for shits and giggles?"

It was clear Cora was dead set on nailing these two to a wall when she followed up with, "Do you act the way you do for shits and giggles? Cause let me inform you, Maeve's - and yes, her name is Maeve, use it- actions aren't constructed around gaining attention. Or manipulation!"

Jessica's defiance flickered, but she stayed silent. Cora took a step closer, her voice steady and cold. "You realize talking or spreading shit about another person says more about you than it does about the person you're talking about, right? No matter how you frame it, it just shows how insecure and malicious you are, trying to twist everything to fit your narrative."

Cora looked down at the phone, her mind already made up. "If people wanted their private lives plastered all over the internet rooted in someone else's fucked up opinion, they would do it themselves! But you?"

With her anger boiling over, Cora navigated towards the phone's settings and found the factory reset button. "This ends now," she growled. She hit the button with a sharp jab, watching as the phone started wiping itself clean.

Jessica lunged forward, trying to grab her phone. "You can't do that! That's my phone, you psycho!"

Cora stepped backwards, holding her hand high and out of reach. "Watch me."

Turning her head to her hand in the air, Cora watched as the phone’s screen went dark momentarily, then flickered back to life. A logo appeared, followed by a progress bar slowly moving across the screen. She tossed it back to Jessica with a controlled flick of her wrist.

“There you go. Must be tough, watching all that potential disappear right in front of you, with nothing else left to hide behind.”

But there were two in this equation, and Cora would be damned if she didn’t acknowledge Veronica was probably in on this too. Cora's gaze snapped to her, instantly feeling suspicious.

"And what about you, Veronica? You've been quiet through all this. Were you doing the same thing? Recording us behind our backs?"

Veronica took a step back, her face flushing. "I... I didn't..."

Cora's voice cut through her stammering. "Give me your phone."

Veronica hesitated, glancing at Jessica, who was silently pleading for her not to give in. She spared a glance at Javy, hoping he’d step in and stand up for her. But both he and Rueben remained silent, neither saying a word. Javy had his arms crossed, a frown marking his usually calm face, while Rueben’s jaw was set, his eyes throwing daggers at Jessica.

The intensity of Cora’s anger left Veronica feeling like she had no choice. With trembling hands, she unlocked and handed over her phone like a child caught red-handed by a stern parent.

Cora quickly navigated through Veronica's phone, and her suspicion was confirmed when she found similar recordings. "Unbelievable," she muttered. She repeated the process, resetting Veronica's phone and deleting all the content she could find.

"I have half a mind to throw them over the side of the waterfall, but I'm not that fucking heartless to leave you without help should you get lost."

"God, you're such a bitch," Veronica sniped. But Cora merely smiled, tossing her phone back, uncaring if she caught it.

"Why would that concern me? My daddy didn't raise me to take shit from the opinions of someone who doesn't like it when they stand up for themselves or others. I should have done it from the start, but I shouldn't have been scared to walk alone."

Veronica's eyes narrowed, her mouth twisting into a cruel smirk. “If your 'daddy' had been around more, maybe you wouldn't have turned out to be such a mess.”

A flicker of pain crossed Cora's brow. She steadied herself, taking a deep breath before she lifted her chin, staring her down. "My dad passed away from cancer, Veronica. And it's not something I'd wish for anyone to experience. Taking cheap shots because you're mad is low, even for someone like you."

If Natasha sucked in a sharp breath at Cora’s words, nobody heard nor saw it.

Veronica’s smirk faltered, her brow furrowing as the realization hit. The usual venom in her eyes was replaced with a spark of irritation at being backed into a corner with no response. She went after the girl with the parent who passed away from cancer. Any remark she could fathom wouldn't gain her any sympathy from those here. Not even Natasha. 

 So, she shifted her gaze to the ground as if it would magically enable her to bury herself six feet under as if a turtle was retreating into its shell. Some shell it was, for Javy and Reuben shook their heads, having stood slightly apart from the group as everything unfolded. 

Reuben’s voice was deathly quiet when he asked, “Were you really going to do that all to Maeve?”

Veronica stuttered a reply, sputtering nonsense about how Maeve had it coming, that she and Jessica were in the right. Meave had treated them horribly and was anything but less than accommodating. 

 Unfortunately for them, Cora wasn't done, not by a long shot.

 "Oh really?  Then you really should be more careful about who is listening to you go on to Natasha about "just how horrible" Maeve has been when the two of you were gaslighting yourselves into thinking you weren't at fault for your horrible remarks to her!"

"But she was!" Jessica pouted. 

Bob leaned over to peer behind Bradley almost comedically, eyeing Veronica. "Never thought you'd get out of the studio,' 'Sold any of your paintings yet?', 'Just thought I'd check in on your little hobby,'" he mocked. "Each one you struck at her until you elbowed her and caused all her brushes and paints to tumble out of her bag!" 

All eyes shot to Veronica: Javy is the hardest of them all. Nat's eyes, however, widened in shock. 

"Maeve has always said if you throw shit at her, she'd throw it right back. You honestly can't expect her not to defend herself,"  Grace snapped. "Trust me, she's capable of far worse than what she did to you. She’s done worse to Jake." 

"What, you mean that video they took for all their followers at the falls?” Cora added. “Shit talking about Maeve without mentioning her name? What did Jessica say, Mickey?"

Mickey's reply was instant. "It's just so petty, right?" he mocked her nasally voice, though he failed miserably. " But I'm the bigger person, and I wouldn't stop at that level." 

Rueben cussed, throwing his head back on his shoulders. "I can’t believe it, Jake was right." 

Natasha's eyes widened when Bob asked him what he meant. 

"I thought he was being an ass and flaunting it. But the morning after Maeve hurt her wrist when he went after Jessica, he whispered in my ear he thought Jess was trying to make a move on him…I guess he was right." 

Jessica blushed. Hard. And what could Ruben do next but close his eyes and shake his head? He didn’t want to believe Jake and had spent the rest of the trip trying to ignore his words. But with everything being revealed here and now, he felt utterly stupid. He had been blind to all of it. The nasty remarks, the advances on Jake. His girlfriend and her best friend bullying Maeve right under his nose.

"I'm not okay with how you treat people, Jess. How… how you’ve been treating me."

“Either you, Ronnie.” Javy pitched in, making her stare at him in shock. "You are just as bad. Why didn't I see this sooner, either?"

Veronica and Jessica shrank under their boyfriend's disappointed glares. Grace could only focus on Natasha, who had remained silent the entire time. Something was turning in her head—something that was clearly bothering her about the whole exchange. Grace wasn’t a vindictive person. She wasn’t even this forward. But she hoped, here and now, Natasha had seen the damage she had wrought and would want to change. 

But Natasha never owned up to it or apologized, neither did Jessica nor Veronica, though Grace honestly did not expect them to.

It was Mickey who finally broke the silence. His mind worked a mile a minute to piece together all the facts, trying to distract himself from all the fighting and tension. His words come tumbling out of his mouth of their own accord, his second nature of helping those in need his driving force. 

"The map was on the cliff, and there were prints—human or bear or both—but one set walking away, not two...." He paused, his eyes glazing over. "There's a high chance they went over. And survived."

"If they didn't, they probably would be back with us."

Bob didn't dare spare another glance at the rest of the group when he made that remark, but he did turn his head to Grace. Her eyes were already pleading with him. She didn't need to, for Bob already had the same ask on his mind.

Bob gave her a nod, letting the damaged map in his other hand drop to the ground. "Grace and I are going after them. Whether you want to join or not that's up to you. But Maeve deserves more than whatever the fuck all of you have been doing to her."

Grace silently joined him, threading her fingers through Bob's once at his side. Yet, she could only watch as the entire group stared at the ground.

“I’ll do it.”

Everyone saw Bradley stepping forward, standing before Bob and Grace. “They’re here because of me. Because they are my friends… and… I owe it to Maeve.”

Mickey and Cora shared a quick look, their eyes travelling in sync to how they gripped each other's hands. They wordlessly joined the other three, keeping the same gait and foot forward, not needing to say anything. It was clear from the moment they followed Grace that they were in this from the get-go.

"What would you like us to do?" Javy asked, gesturing to himself and then to Rueben. Then, in a silent message, his gaze extended toward the two girls holding each other in silent support at the edge of the group. Grace and Cora could see the silent message hidden in his words.

'How can we help and deal with these two at the same time?'

Anyone looking at those two knew of their upcoming fate, soon-to-be pallbearers of the title Ex-Girlfriends. Yet, Grace had a different thought emerge in her mind, which had her unable to separate them from the famous lines of a T.S. Elliot poem. 

Seeing them huddled together, holding on to each other and having witnessed them hanging on to each other’s actions by every thread they could find, they still believed they were not at fault. Vile threats and horrible words were being held back by something, though Grace couldn’t figure out what it was, nor did she want to. 

But those famous last lines flashed across her mind once again. 

This is the way the world ends / Not with a bang but a whimper.

She didn't tear her eyes away when she answered his question; her response was solely directed at Jessica and Veronica. As the words flew out of her mouth without a second thought, she prayed this would be the last time they saw their faces. And that while she would forget about them, she hoped they would never forget what they had done to Maeve.

"I think it's best you and your little sick kicks go with Javy and Rueben and find a park ranger or return to the entrance and let them know what happened."

Rueben adjusted the straps of his bags when he asked, "What should we tell them when we say you went off after them?"

Bob shrugged his shoulders as if to say make something up. "Last I heard, getting lost in a national park isn't illegal."

But there singled out among the group left Natasha. She had been strangely quiet, watching everything with Jessica and Veronica unfold. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her body, and on the verge of tears, she was struggling to breathe.

Only Bradley was the one to approach her, though Grace couldn’t hide her wince when Bradley didn’t reach out to touch her. Not even once.

When Natasha’s eyes locked on Bradley’s, he didn’t even return her glance or lift his head. Her voice was strangled when she asked, “Does everyone hate me that much?”

Bradley didn’t hesitate. “Not Maeve. Not Really.”

She bit down on her lip, a breath escaping through her teeth. His reply made everything that much worse.

"It's the right thing to do. It'd be stupid not to acknowledge it, Nat. We dragged them out here," Bradley tried to encourage her.

A voice inside Bob's head screamed liar—Jake willingly came when he realized Maeve would be here. He wasn't dragged. Bradley was trying to share the blame. But even if he had some part to play, most of the burden didn't lie with him - and everyone who mattered knew that fact.

"If I am the first person to admit it, then so be it," Bradley continued. "We should have never come out here in the first place. It was selfish... and the ruined proposal? That one is on us, not them."

Natasha took a sharp, trembling breath, holding it longer than necessary. Her lungs strained against the effort, and she didn't realize why she resisted the urge to breathe until the need overwhelmed her. And even then, when she let it out and was forced to take that much-needed breath, her lungs ached under the strain.

"Did I somehow kill them both?"

Bradley didn't miss a beat when he offered, not unkindly, "If you did, then you have to live with it for the rest of your life."

Natasha winced at that, though Bradley didn't notice, staring down at his hands as he spoke. "But I intend to try to fix this while we can... if we still can."

She gulped, turning her head to stare at the ground, already turning green at his words. She nodded once—one single firm jut of her chin that had everyone suddenly preparing to set off into the bush. Natasha still tried to reach for Bradley, but he had already turned around to grab something from Rueben.

And it was then and there that Bradley's words hit her.

"Not Maeve."

But not not him.

She tried not to give into the weakness behind her knees at that.

So, she followed him without a word, without glancing up from the ground—not even when he offered to carry a bag of food gathered from the cooler or when Mickey offered to take Bob's pack so he could focus on the path ahead. Standing together, Cora and Grace didn't even spare Natasha a glance. The way their bodies were angled made it obvious she was not welcomed in the slightest.

It left Natasha lurking at the back of the forming group, the same place you had been for the past two days, the irony not lost on her.

Javy and Rueben said their goodbyes, leading Jessica and Veronica back down the hill without a word. And in that very moment, a determined boy scout led a firefighter, a nurse, a professional Quarterback, an altruistic protector, and a human being with a debatable guilty conscience out into the Washington wilderness to rescue their friends.

Yet, they knew that setting out into that forest, even if they found both of them alive and well, wouldn't be enough to mend the years of damage that had already been done.

"Let's go," Bob called out firmly. "They're either in trouble or, knowing those two, about to kill each other— Hell, it's probably both."

This isn't the last we see of this group <3

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Taglist -> I've been off on here, so if you've messaged or commented and I haven't seen it, please let me know, and I will add you as so long as i am sticking around.

Lucky ☘️

[sunlightmurdock]

AETERNA | Four

Three | Masterlist

chapter synopsis: rooster gets a glimpse of what he’s been waiting for.

warnings: bradley bradshaw x reader x jake seresin. supernatural circus au. smoking; the fic takes place in the 70s and so 70s era things will happen; this fic has mature themes and is intended for adults, minors pls dni. spooky stuff. word count: 8.8k

There is a river on the O’Malley land that comes from way up in the mountains, spilling down into the valley that Atwood was built upon. Across some pastures and some trees, there’s a quiet spot where nobody ever comes — not even the seasoned pros who got their fishing licenses direct from Mr. O’Malley himself.

In the early mornings, Rooster gets antsy. He tosses and turns in the swelter of his camper for a while, counting the rays of gold that pass across the weathered ceiling. He can hear everyone else tossing and turning too. 

He hears Paulie and the guys still up talking from the night before. Waylon snoring wildly from a few rows away. Erin and Tomas feeling each other up in their tents.

It has become his common routine to now give up sleeping once the morning sun crests the roof of the farmhouse up on the hill. On those mornings, he goes walking. 

He came across the spot where the horses are buried. Where the blackberries grow and brambles have started to consume an old chicken coop. Then, he came across the spot by the river.

As he plucks at the strings of his beat-up, old guitar on Monday at noon and tries to pretend that he’s all alone, Rooster regrets ever telling his chosen few about this place.

It had been fun, at first, when the eight of them had taken the walk out there and spent a couple of hours cooling off. But now, he’s stuck with the sound of Jake’s voice while the others play in the water in front of him.  He should be grateful that the rest of camp hadn’t bothered to invite themselves, too.

The next place he finds, he won’t be as quick to share.

Jake basks in the sun, his skin shining gold. He’s laying in his boxer shorts on the smooth rocks that verge the O’Malley’s access to the river, his arms crossed under his face and his eyes closed.

Rooster sits at the edge of the rocky riverbank with sunburnt shoulders and a guitar in his hands, strumming absently at something old. He’s watching his friends swim; Natasha sits on Bob’s shoulders and Callie sits on Rueben’s as they chicken fight in the clear, moving water around them.

The conversation between himself and Jake fell stagnant a few moments ago. His brown eyes track the blue dragonfly as it plays around the reeds that stand tall, out of the water, thinking of what Jake had last said. He can’t let it go.

There isn’t a lot left for them to argue about, these days. Something shiny and new comes along and the habit strikes back up. 

“If she’s got any sense, she’ll stay away.” Rooster sounds much older than he is sometimes, and that’s why all those lonely older ladies love him so much. Jake doesn’t bother to lift his head, but Rooster can hear his smile through his words.

“She’s got a sense of adventure, old man,” Rooster is only a year and a half older, technically. Jake teases him anyway. Rooster plucks at the strings like it doesn’t bother him. “And the sweetest tits. She’ll be seein’ me again.”

Rooster misplucks. 

Jake grins against his arm, a beaming smile from under his sunglasses, content with the idea that he has gotten under Rooster’s skin. 

The sun scorches above them, one of the first days in early May where the sun dares to be this hot. There’s still a light breeze, one that makes the heat just about bearable outdoors, but one that makes the river a straight godsend.

Callie shrieks as she topples off of Rueben’s shoulders and crashes into the cool water, sending droplets of water flying over Rooster’s thighs.

It’s a very unassuming scene, these town newcomers playing at such normality, right as the Redbrook River fishing season picks up. It’s far from secluded, just not frequently stumbled upon this far out.

Jake lays undisturbed, grinning against his arm, as Rooster tries not to picture your tits — more specifically, Jake’s hands on them. It’s bad enough he had to listen to it all. It’s a conflicting thing to have enjoyed so much about what he was hearing, and to have known it was all for Jake’s benefit.

“Keep dreamin’, bud,” Rooster answers right back. Their group of friends continue to splash in the water, long past the days of being fazed by Jake and Rooster’s competitive streak. “She thinks you’re a freak.”

Jake’s lips quirk and he twists his hips and rolls onto his back, draping an arm over his eyes. The sun covers his chest gladly, bathing him in mid-morning light. “I can work with freak. She thinks you’re a stick in the mud with an attitude problem.”

Maybe I am, Rooster acknowledges bitterly.

“If she likes you so much, why’s she chasing me?” Rooster counters.

Jake takes his arm away from his eyes and props his elbows against the flat, warm surface of the rock under him. As he lifts his sunglasses, the light catches on the green of his eyes, twinkling daringly as he looks across at Rooster. His grin stretches wide across his lips, dimpling at just one cheek — practically the only thing not symmetrical about his face.

Rooster stops plucking at the guitar. He fucking hates when Jake smiles at him like that. Smug and daring— and Jake knows how much he hates it. 

He sets the guitar down swiftly and stands up, shaking his head. “Fuck you.” 

They’re joking, but Rooster knows you won’t come chasing after Jake as easily as he would let on. He scared you last night; really scared you. Gave Rooster the impression that you’re smarter than he gave you credit for when you had first come poking around out here, all by yourself.

From the second things felt wrong, you had hauled yourself out of that truck like your hair was on fire. And, you hadn’t left your friend behind.

You had gone home last night, and you had checked that the latch on your bedroom window was locked. He had heard it click from across the fields, but only because he had been listening out for it. 

In theory, he likes you. He’s sure that the two of you would get along just great. But, way out here is no place for a lady.

“You act like it’s my fault your balls haven’t seen action since Roosevelt died.” It’s a slight exaggeration. Rooster’s moral compass sometimes loses its true north, and he winds up rolling out of someone’s bed before sunrise once again. It’s easier when he knows he’ll never see them again. 

Jake tends to be a little more… sentimental, about things. 

Rooster opens his mouth to speak. He’s standing there with water droplets drying like flecks of gold on his freckled shoulders, his curls wet at the nape of his neck and his blue boxer shorts clinging to his thighs and what hangs between them. Jake looks him over, pushing up onto his elbows, venom on his tongue.

The words die in Rooster’s throat as he looks up the riverbank and finds where the faint ringing in his ears is coming from. 

Upstream, nestled in the shade of the pines, Amelia watches them all. He wouldn’t notice her if he wasn’t specifically looking for her, tucked halfway back into the treeline and sitting down, her sketchbook open wide in front of her.

Her hair is wild and messy, like it always is. She must know that Rooster is watching her, but her eyes are on the ones in the water, cold and blue. Too calculated for a girl her age. 

“I’m going into town,” Rooster decides, not speaking to any one of them in particular, but loudly enough for them all to hear. Amelia looks at him. Her pale skin and sharp eyes remind him of a porcelain doll sometimes, and not in a good way. “Don’t need me.”

They will, undoubtedly, need him for something around camp. Everyone around here earns their keep, despite frequently having no place in the world to be but right here. Given that Rooster no longer performs, his duties around camp look a little bit different to everyone else’s.

He breaks up the fights, and man there are plenty. He’s the one who heads into town; he can keep his head down and get what he needs, a polite face and someone not interested in finding new friends. He keeps the customers where they’re supposed to be on show nights. 

Rooster pulls on his jeans and he takes his guitar.

On his walk back to their settlement, through the trees and across the fields, he gets to thinking about how much this sprawling land reminds him of fuzzy childhood memories.

He remembers his parents in shades of blue. The broken porch swing at the front of their house that his mother wasted away in. His parents’ bed with the slight dip in the middle. The car rusting away in the back, while he was still too young to drive it. He remembers everything about his mother and her sickness.

His feet brush across the grass and he thinks about his existence back then. Growing like a weed, always feeling hungry and always being too tall for his jeans. Playing with the neighboring boys in the street out front. Looking at that picture of his father in his service wear on the mantle, wondering what he would look like at that age.

Far beyond it now, Bradley hasn’t much considered his similarities to his parents. In some ways, his life is better than theirs ever was. Hell, he’s seen more of the continental United States than they ever could have dreamed of from their West Virginia trailer. He has time, which they never seemed to have enough of.

That being said, he’s glad they never got to see who he would become.

“Mornin’.” The voice startles him, which is a surprising feat in itself. Jeans unbuttoned and his shirt fisted in the same hand as his guitar, Rooster spins on his heel to look, finding Gus O’Malley himself sitting on the front porch of the Big House that Rooster had been passing by.

“Oh. Good mornin’.” Rooster tries to find it in himself to be polite, like he doesn’t know the kind of man who sits in front of him. He saw the fist-shaped hole in the house’s back door. “Sir.”

Gus is an average-looking man, with thinning hair and sun-reddened skin all over. Sun damage across the tip of his nose and his forehead, wrinkling him beyond his years. “Where are you headed?”

He looks Rooster over with an especially spiteful kind of envy.

“Just back from the river, I cut through the field.” Rooster explains with a quick gesture back over his shoulder.

Gus, red-headed and sitting with his hands on his rounded stomach, gives Rooster a look over.

“Yeah, I saw y’all out that way,” Rooster tips his head slightly, studying the amused shift in Gus’s tone. “That one with the dark hair, she your girlfriend or something?”

A pang of protectiveness strikes him. It’s not just about the fact that Natasha, who had been sunbathing on the large, flat rock that protrudes from the middle of the river, is like a sister to him. It’s that Rooster hadn’t once spotted Gus.

He hadn’t heard the heavy rattle of his strained breathing, or the lazy thudding of his heartbeat. It prickles at him like heat. 

As much as Natasha can care for herself, and take care of men like Gus, Rooster doesn’t want his bulbous nose poking anywhere around their digs. His mouth tips toward an aloof smile, disarming.

“Or somethin’.” He tells Gus with a soft nod, despite having never touched Natasha in his life. Gus smiles back at him approvingly.

“How are you finding it here? — I heard Maggie was putting you to work.” Rooster knows that Gus considers this question to be a test, and that he’s gauging exactly how close Rooster has been getting to his wife.

“Quiet. Nice to have somethin’ to do sometimes.” Is all that he offers up.

Gus’s mind ticks over the answer. He leans back in his rocking chair and nods his head. “Well, you kids stay outta trouble.”

The saying is that trouble tends to follow — and that isn’t quite the case for Rooster and his crew. They usually just happen to be where the trouble is already occurring. Well, that isn’t quite the case either. There’s nothing incidental about those two things.

You too, Rooster dreams of saying aloud. Instead, his eyes spark with a calm and polite smile as he nods his head and takes that as his dismissal. “Yes, sir.”

It plays on his mind as he pads his way back to his camper, images of Gus leering at them from his truck, probably drooling something fierce. Had it been while Rooster was teaching himself that Ray Charles track, or was it while he had been bickering with Jake? — What had he been so distracted about that he hadn’t noticed?

Gus hasn’t been around much since their tenancy began, and Rooster hopes that things will be that way for the majority of the summer.

His trip into town requires more clothes than are generally needed around camp. Shoes, for one, are a must, and shirts that are actually buttoned and paired with a tidy undershirt are appreciated too. He combs some tacky, woodsy-smelling pomade through the sides of his hair to tame the air dried, river-mussed mop of curls.

Perfectly presentable to go into town and hang fliers all afternoon. He could have taken Jake and Javy with him, maybe some of the others, cut his task load in half. But the alone time is worth the hundred or so extra papers.

As some kind of sick testament to the joke that Rooster will never really be rid of Jake, Elvis on the radio accompanies him into town. 

He hears you before he sees you. Smelling of daisies and cheap cigarettes and a fresh pack of gum, he twists his neck around at the stop sign and starts to wonder if he’s losing it. It’s not until the truck comes around the bend that he finds you.

Perched on the back steps of a large, brown-stoned building with a cigarette in your hand and a worried little frown plastering your face. Your hair is scraped all the way back, tucked into a neat updo, and you’re wearing a candy-striped tunic with white knee socks and Keds. Perfectly presentable.

It makes him think of the first day that he saw you, on the seats of that truck on all fours and waving at him in those little shorts.

“Maybe not branded,” You muse, letting your head fall back against the wall behind you while Olive studies the new baby blue colour on her nails. “Is there another word for when someone burns a shape into your skin?”

You don’t notice the green pickup truck pull past and head for town as you fret to Olive. It’s been a while since you had a man to complain about, but this isn’t your usual kind of conundrum. 

She smirks. “Maybe it’s something freaky-deaky.”

The back-and-forth repertoire thing that brought the two of you together fails today. The witty remark dies on your tongue with a wistful sigh. You wish you could laugh with her. He laughed it off pretty easily, waved you goodnight like nothing had happened. 

It just doesn’t… feel right. There’s an unsettled feeling in the pit of your stomach that you just can’t shake. “D’you think it’s like a cult thing?”

That’s no joke. You hear the stories about the hippies still hanging out in the countrysides, girls going missing across the country. Mansonites that didn’t wind up on death row. 

Your folks let you get away with a lot, but joining a cult might push the boat out a little.

Olive doesn’t seem half as fazed. The miserable guy who named himself after the least impressive animal on the farm hadn’t seemed too worrying to her, beyond his attitude. “His hair was short. Guys with crew cuts aren’t in cults.”

She’s still kidding. The comment wasn’t meant to reassure, and it doesn’t.

“Yeah.” You guess, knees tucked up to your chest as you mull over the idea. He looked tidy. Smelled good. His hair was certainly a little longer than a crew cut. Rooster’s hair was longer again. Neither of them looked particularly unkempt — Jake had smelled like a piney, masculine cologne. 

Cultists surely didn’t take such a pride in their hygiene.

Now, Olive knows not to joke with you too much. She had seen the dazed way you had stumbled back into the bar, colorless and rendered silent. It hadn’t taken a genius to figure out that whatever went down in the cab of that truck wasn’t a joking matter.

She just hadn’t expected it to be so strange.

You hadn’t been expecting him to let you go. Surely if he was so dangerous, he wouldn’t have helped you back into your shirt. Maybe you’d had too much to drink, but you don’t remember the last thing he said to you.

Something along the lines of taking care of yourself, making sure you got home alright. Entirely unthreatening, as he had remained in the cab to buckle his belt and wait out his boner, you guess.

“Why didn’t you just ask him what it was?” She frowns at you, plucking her cigarette from her lips and stubbing it out on the wall. Break time is over and soon Conrad will come looking, 

You don’t remember that either. 

You must have made such a fool of yourself scrambling out from under him and offering no explanation as to why his tattoo gave you the jeebies so bad. But then, he hadn’t exactly offered to settle you about it.

Your nose wrinkles as you straighten out your dress and follow your best friend back inside. 

The Pines has this perpetual kind of dust smell. Olive joked once that it was something to do with all the time running out around here. It’s a joke that sticks with you sometimes when those years of dust are making your sinuses itch.

Faded yellow walls and deep blue carpet. Stock-image paintings on the walls. It’s an okay place to send your parents, in the grand scheme of things.

Your mind is far, far from the Pines today. Out past Airport Road, following that narrow winding road up the O’Malley driveway. You think of the two strange, strange men who live out there now.

“It could’ve been really traumatic.” There can’t be a lot of ways that someone winds up with a cross branded into their skin that aren’t traumatic. Olive doesn’t think that way. She gets her answers when she wants them. She would have asked him then and there. She’s braver than you, like that.

“Yeah. You wouldn’t want him asking about Wes.” Olive sometimes speaks without thinking. His name hits like a ricochet, which is a strange thing. You spent your first seventeen years hearing it every day. It’s a shame that now his name is tainted— it will always bring sorrow.

You’ll never scream it when he’s taunting you again, never again write a gift tag addressed to him. You swallow. You almost have to shake your head to bring you back to what the original conversation had been about— not your big brother.

“No.” You agree. Atwood knows what happened to Wesley. The story spread like wildfire that late July. In a way, you’re glad that it had — you hadn’t ever had to explain a thing for yourself because everyone already knew.

She’s back on the topic of Jake quickly. “So, you think you’ll see him again?” 

You linger in the hallway as she knocks on to Mrs. Palmer’s bedroom door. “Didn’t give him my number.” 

“But you know where he is.”

“Yeah,” You mull over the idea. Seems a little pathetic to drag yourself all the way out to the O’Malley farm for the third time this week. Not very ‘California’ of you to spend your time stressing over some Carnies. “I dunno.”

“Maybe it’s just a war thing.” She considers, closing the door behind her and leaving Mrs. Palmer with her morning meds. You watch Mrs. Palmer’s blue rinse disappear behind the wood, her head turned toward the window. “He was over there, probably.”

“Probably.” You agree. It’s hard to find a guy born before ‘55 that doesn’t have a thigh full of shrapnel or a jagged scar somewhere he can’t hide. But you’ve never seen anyone with a wound like Jake’s.

Teetering on the verge of hidden and displayed. He covered it up, technically, with the ink and the necklace — but he wears both on top like a badge of honour. You just can’t shake the grin on his face when he noticed that you had noticed.

Like he was excited by it.

Rooster, three blocks away, feels eyes on him from before the heel of his boot first hits the sidewalk. It’s nothing too new for him. These small towns are always filled with people who like to stare, and people who like to ask questions. 

Jake’s the entertainer of the bunch, not him. 

He’s got his to-do list crumpled up in the pocket of his Lee’s and that’s all he’s here for.

Hanging fliers always comes last. He has found that townsfolk don’t generally take too well to strangers coming and sticking up what they consider to be trash all over their streets. First, comes the library to get those books that’ll keep Amelia from getting bored. 

The door opens with a jingle, the bell above it swinging wildly to alert the aging, half-deaf librarian of the stranger in his midst. Rooster’s boots are silent across the worn carpet, heading for the fiction section. 

“Afternoon.” He nods towards the staring librarian as he passes him by, earning himself a sound of acknowledgement at least.

Amelia reads a lot, and she passes her books around camp once she’s done. She must have library fees all across the Continental US by now, but they keep her put— out of trouble. 

She’s the youngest of their settlement. Maverick’s daughter when the cops come asking, just the kid he had found on the side of the road when they don’t. She’s not like the rest of them. Rooster knows that she likes him, she finds him funny and he doesn’t treat her like a baby — but he steers clear of her when he can.

She’s too curious for her own good. That’s landed them in trouble before. Trespassing seems to be in her nature, and Maverick usually has better things to do than to keep the twelve-year-old occupied. Their crew doesn’t exactly roll with too many babysitters, either.

In spite of all of that, she’s a good contortionist. Rooster watches every weekend as people in the audience gasp and lurch away from the way her joints bend and pop at will. They don’t even notice, half the time, that she’s the same grinning kid who does the aerial tricks in the first quarter.

She’s been good at making people squirm for as long as he’s known her.

“Could I check out these three, please?” He sets down the three dust-covered novels, broken spines and peeling covers included, and looks the gentleman in the eye. 

“You’re into thrillers.” The man comments, picking up the top book from the small pile and inspecting it. Rooster doesn’t care to make conversation, or to correct him. He smiles and nods like that’s the case. “I’m not going to ask if you’ve got a library card with us, because I know you don’t. Are you new to town?”

Rooster bites back a sigh.

He smiles something polite, albeit tight-lipped. “Yeah. Working just outside of town, got a lotta downtime during the day. You need my name first?”

Bradley taps on the counter as the man takes down some vague details, asking his small-talk questions each step of the way. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Atwood’s desolate Main Street, where the afternoon heat has driven people back inside.

The whirring fan behind the librarian's head kicks out more dust and lint than it does cool air, growling in complaint with each circle of the fan blades. 

Perspiration beads at his weathered, wrinkled skin. The long arm on his smudged watch face tells Rooster that the seconds are ticking on as normal, even though everything here feels so much slower.

He’s grateful for the heat because at least it means fresh air; leaving the librarian behind with another abrupt jingle of the bell above the door. 

With barely enough time to walk back to his truck, Rooster realizes that you’re heading his way. Thoughts are buzzing around your head like radio chatter, almost enough to make him wince. He doesn’t even realize you aren’t alone until he catches the scent of Old Spice walking next to you.

He lifts the tailgate and swings it shut with a bang. You notice him as he turns his head. Walking in your cute candy-striper uniform with your bag on your shoulder and a guy at your side.

He almost smiles. This wouldn’t be the first time that Jake’s kissed a girl with a boyfriend and suffered the consequences. But, he knows better than to assume. Plus, the step that you take away from the boy at your side is instinctual.

Barely even a conscious decision, but Rooster sees it and understands what you’re telling him. The blond in the coveralls at your side is not your boyfriend. 

In no mood for a conversation, or to upset the poor kid who probably thinks he’s got a chance with you, Rooster opts to give you the same polite nod he had wanted to offer everyone else that has crossed his path today, and turns his back. He walks around to the cab and flings open the glovebox, grabbing the red fliers. 

Shoes tapping delicately across the pavement. Perspiration and Old Spice beading along the back of your friend’s neck. The thoughts whirring around that pretty little head as you sneak closer. You’re leaning against the truck when he straightens back up, one elbow popped against the side and your brows furrowed through the glaring sunlight. 

Rooster gives you the benefit of pretending that you got the jump on him.

“Hi.” It’s a greeting by nature, but there’s something accusatory to your tone that tells him, yet again, he seems to be being held responsible for something Jake did. 

“Afternoon.” Rooster answers you, lifting his head to check on the sulking guy about a foot behind you, watching this exchange with his hands in his pockets. His train of thought isn’t half as pissed off as it could be.

“Are you by yourself?” You ask him, subconsciously reaching back to feel for your updo, smoothing back some humidity-stoked stray hairs.

“Jake’s a big boy, I figured he could watch himself for one day.” He replies, not sounding exactly kind in the way he refers to his buddy. 

Convenient for you at least, to be able to corner an inside source. The thought does cross your mind that maybe Jake is being punished in some way for his behavior last night, kept at their camp like a grounded kid.

“So, who’s watching you?” You poke at him, trying to get a feel for the type of mood he might be in today.

He turns his head and looks at you, his expression serious. Maybe it’s the look on your face, or maybe it’s that he likes you, but his hardened expression cracks and he breaks a smile.

“Looks like that would be you, doesn’t it?” He replies, tilting his head to the side, flashing you his stack of papers. “It’s gonna get pretty lame, just warnin’ ya.”

You turn your head and shoot a glance back at where Billy stands a couple of feet back. His hands are balled into the pockets of his overalls and he might as well be tapping his damn foot at you, but he just sulks instead. 

Rooster had this look on his face when you’d left last night, just this knowing expression— a real ‘I told you so’ kind of thing. He’s more of a straight shooter than his buddy is, maybe you would get some real answers out of him.

“Well, you need some help?” 

She thinks you’re a stick in the mud with an attitude problem, and yet, here you are offering to traipse all over town with him sticking these things up. Rooster looks over the top of your head, glancing back at your friend.

As much as he would get a kick out of watching you hop into the truck and stick with him, Rooster knows better. He’s already shaking his head before he speaks, certain. There’s a place for you, and it’s not with a guy like him — or a guy like Jake, for that matter.

“No, you two look like you have plans and I’m starting way out by the Shop’N’Save. I’ve got this.” He shakes the papers once and leans back against the door of the truck. He isn’t expecting you to give up easy, but he isn’t expecting you to step around him and grab the handle either.

You’ve already made your mind up. “Well, I actually wanted to talk to you, so y’know— two birds, one stone and stuff.” 

Rooster stands up and watches with furrowed brows as you pull the door open and step up into the cab. Then, he looks toward your friend. Your forearm grazes at Bradley’s, your skin against his as he stares ahead. 

Billy. Closer to a family member to you than a boyfriend with the tepid attitude you’ve got towards him. There’s a loyalty and affection there that Rooster would be grateful for if the roles were reversed.

Rooster looks between you, settling down onto the tan leather seat, and Billy, blue eyes are narrowed and he looking just about ready to rush him. Rooster catches the handle of the door. He considers telling you to get out. He should.

You hit him with an expectant raise of your eyebrows, and crane your neck back to look at Billy. “I’ll call you later. Take Lori out on that date!”

Billy’s mouth opens and closes. Rooster presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, his decision made for him. Even if he’s your excuse, he’s not going to make you get back out and walk home with the kid when you’re so clearly trying to ditch him. It’s just not gentlemanly.

Your mouth twitches, equally surprised at his compliance as Rooster swings the door to the truck shut with a resigned smile, walking around to his side without much acknowledging your friend at all. You’re watching Billy through the side mirror as Rooster starts the grumbling ignition. 

“He’d follow me around forever if I let him.” You mumble quietly. Then, it’s like you remember yourself. You shake your head and sigh. “That sounds conceited, and I don’t mean it like that, but girls ask him out, y’know and — he just— he’d rather pick me up from work and sit in the same diner we’ve always sat in.”

There’s quiet on the other side of the cab, Billy is already walking away in the rearview mirror. You turn your head and he’s watching you, one hand on the wheel and the other out of the window. 

“This is what you wanted to talk to me about?” He prompts you, knees spread and his thighs straining against the blue denim, fingers drumming against the exterior of the door. He cocks an eyebrow at you, waiting for your response.

For the second time in twenty-four hours, you’re sitting in the cab of this truck and your mouth is watering. But, you’ve got better sense this time.

“Okay, fine. Look, I want you to give me a straight answer,” You turn in the seat, tucking one knee under you and creasing your features sternly. “About what’s up with you guys. Did Jake say anything after last night?”

He considers relaying the comment about your tits, just to further ruin Jake’s chances, but he plays dumb.

“No, but I figured you didn’t have the best time when you came running back in like that.” Rooster shrugs.

“He just gave me the jeebies,” You admit, fiddling with the hem of your uniform. Your tone is light but your skin is prickled like you’ve somehow found a chill on this warm summer afternoon.  “Like that tattoo on his neck, it’s like a scar, right?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” You’re studying him from your side of the bench, and you’re good at it, looking for the smallest little tell. Eyes on the road, he gives you nothing but a shrug. “The scar’s what freaked you out?”

“No, like — it’s weird. How’d you end up in a circus? — Are you on the run or something?”

His mouth twitches. He turns his face toward the window, smiling at the scenery rather than at your face, shaking his head all the while. 

“Maybe some folks just get their kicks juggling,” He taunts you with a shrug of his broad shoulders, craning his neck as he turns off of Main and toward Third. “You don’t hear me questioning your career choices.”

“Okay, fine,” You’ve seen Jake drop an entire marquee into stunned silence with his act, he’s undeniably good at what he does. You swipe through the fliers absently. “I just— I got this weird feeling from Jake last night.”

Clearly today, he’s in the mood to play. He quirks one eyebrow and smiles out at the road ahead. “Yeah, they usually tell you all about that feeling in Health Class, I think.”

You swing out a hand and smack at his arm, scoffing out a distinctly unimpressed and unladylike sound. “Shut up! I’m not talking about that, I’m talking… like that tattoo on his neck? — Was that— Was it a burn? — What was that?”

He pulls over to the side of the road coolly, killing the engine and looking across at you like you’re asking him to explain the intricacies of geometry. The Shop’N’Save is dead empty this time of day, feels like you’re the only thing around for miles. He reaches for the door handle and leans back, itching for some space, needing some fresh air.

“Means that Jake’s an idiot who’ll do just about anything on a bet.” He answers as bluntly as one can, taking the fliers from the middle of the seat and the shiny new staple gun from beside them. “He wasn’t gonna hurt you.”

You’re hot on his heels as he steps out of the truck and heads for the telephone pole, taking the fliers as you duck around him.

“I figured that much.” There’s a bite to your tone as you take the page and hold it up against the wooden pole, narrowing your eyes at him. He lifts his brows, unimpressed but amused. “I mean, I’m standing here, aren’t I?” 

Standing on a stretch of road that you’ve driven by a thousand times but never once walked down, the breeze catches your skin and makes your white and pink striped skirt blow around your thighs. His gaze flickers between your face and your hand on the pole with a beat. 

His boot tucks itself between your tidy white sneakers, his shoulders seeming to stretch wider as he steps up close. 

He places his hand over yours and tugs it upwards, readjusting the flier to a height that he deems appropriate. Pinning your hand with his palm, he lifts his other hand and strikes a staple into the wood.

“Call it baggage. Things with us tend to get complicated,” He nails another staple into the other side of the flier, and turns to look at your face, a grin ghosting at his lips. “Hell, why don’t you put that kid you were with out of his misery and go out with him?”

As you open your mouth to argue back, he drops your hand back down to your side with a squeeze and takes a look towards the two buildings to his left. Anything to cut this conversation short.

He jerks his head toward the stores behind him. “Feel like helping a guy out and asking to stick these in their windows?”

“Fine.” You thought he was a lot cuter when you couldn’t hear what he was saying that day out on Airport Road. He leans back against the door and watches you walk inside in your uniform, thinking to himself that you’re plenty cute right now.

Just like he had expected, both the gas station and the liquor store allow you to hang the fliers without so much as a question about why. Rooster wouldn’t have gotten the same treatment. 

He lifts his fingers and waves them at you as you cross the small parking lot back towards him.

“Let’s go, unless you want to be out here all day.” You hear him laugh to himself as you walk around the truck and pull yourself into the passenger side. He fixes his smile, knowing that it’s just likely to provoke you. 

As much as he’d rather not have you in his passenger seat, you’re useful when it comes to navigation. He wouldn’t have even tried half of the side streets that you point him down. He humors your questions for two hours, giving you barely there answers as the beat-up, old truck rattles down oak-lined streets. 

The afternoon sun fades from golden to gray somewhere between Sixth and Elm. The sky hangs low, darkening, a covering of dark clouds threatening a downpour. 

By the park, Bradley pulls over and hops out with a stack of fliers, offering you little more than the instruction to, “Stay there.”

He slaps the red papers up where he can, smoothing the papers out with his palm and working them into wooden surfaces with the staple gun. You are left with the rather cushy job of sitting pretty in the cab, while he does the hard work.

A couple of kids whizz past on their bikes, calling out loudly as they cycle home. Atwood is the kind of place where mothers are more than fine with saying goodbye to their children after breakfast and not seeing them again until sundown in the summers.

While following them by, you catch sight of a glinting metal at your feet. Just to check, you feel at your earlobe. Sure enough, your earring sits in the footwell.

As the driver’s side door creaks open, Rooster stands on the sidewalk and frowns at the way you have folded yourself downwards and are reaching for something under the seat. His brows knit together as you strain uncomfortably.

“You okay down there?” He prompts.

You huff, still struggling. “My earring. I hit it all the way under the seat when I was trying to grab it— I must’ve left it last-“

Last night. When you were sprawled across the bench with Jake’s tongue in your mouth. Rooster smiles at the way you stop mid-sentence, like that’s going to save his feelings. Like he hadn’t stood inside and listened to every last part of it. 

“Got it!” You pop back up, holding the dainty thing between your fingers and smiling at him. It stretches across your cheeks and your eyes glint with delight. The afternoon sun seems to brighten with you, despite the clouds rolling in from the east. 

His eyes widen with a dramatism that tells you you’re being mocked. “Thank god.” 

Caught somewhere between shooting him a glare and laughing, your face settles into a reticent smile as you fold your arms over your chest. “You’re a jackass, you know that?”

“So I’m told.” He agrees, settling back into the driver’s seat as the rain clouds decide to make good on their promise. Clicking his tongue, he sits back in his seat and glances across at the very much paper fliers he had just hung. “You hungry?”

“Hungry? Mm, a bit,” You shrug your shoulders, he nods, the answer spurring him into action as he heads back towards town. “Does that make this a date?”

He huffs out a small chuckle, which wounds your ego more than you would like to admit, reaching across your body to tug open the glovebox. “Depends if you’re as scared of me as you are of Jake, doesn’t it?”

Now, that’s the type of comment that doesn’t deserve an answer. You’re not afraid of him. He’s too honest to be frightening. Raw and witty, maybe a little grumpy, but man — that smile is one worth working for. You like him, a lot.

Your lovey-dovey thoughts come to a sudden stop as you track his hand. More aptly, you track what his hand nudges out of the way.

Unfazed, Rooster reaches past the box of Trojans and fishes, instead, for cigarettes. He plucks one from the pack and sets it between his teeth, then looks across at you. Watching him with an unimpressed expression that’s halfway to being a full-blown scowl. 

He smiles around the cigarette.

“What? — Did you forget how that earring wound up on the floor?” He taunts you, reaching back across with little regard for your personal space, in search of a lighter. 

You knock his hand out of the way and hand him the silver flint-wheel lighter from your own pocket. “It’s a big box, is all.” 

He steadies the wheel with his knee, cupping his hands around the flame to ignite his cigarette, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s not my truck.” 

“Hm.” 

He looks across at you, one brow quirked, and a smile of disbelief toying around the cigarette.

“I’m not saying anything,” You answer, defending yourself with little conviction, arms still folded over your chest. “Just didn’t realize this passenger seat was such a tourist spot.”

He coughs out a laugh around his cigarette, his cheeks warm and crinkling around his endlessly deep brown eyes. His freckles are darker under the gray clouds, dotting his nose. He reaches across the cab and swats at your arm as you had gone for his.

You press your tongue into your cheek; keeping yourself from beaming as his hand comes up and covers your mouth, smelling of the cologne on his wrist and the cigarette he had held. 

“Cool it, kid — that spot’s all yours,” He’s still laughing as he talks to you, glancing across at you. Blinking at him with his hand settled across your jaw, the gold ring on his pinkie finger sitting against your chin. He pulls it back to hold his cig, his touch leaving you longing. “Now, what do you want to eat? — I’m buying.”

You crane your neck to look at the brown leather watch on his wrist, already knowing that you’re going to be in the weeds for missing dinner back home. Damage already done, you decide to introduce him to Atwood’s finest— the shitty little diner owned by Billy’s uncle that has had the same shitty menu for thirty years. 

It’s the perfect spot, in a hometown kind of way.

You hold your head a little higher than usual as you stroll through the place.

There are a couple of girls who work at Louie’s that will just die when they see you with the tall stranger, and you enjoy that just a little. Rooster enjoys it a little, too.

He’s busy looking around at the decor as he slides into the wooden booth, not exactly critical of it but not impressed either. He shucks a hand through his dampened curls and settles down into the seat, spreading his knees and kicking one of his feet between yours under the table.

“That’s the bridge out by us, right?” He asks, pointing to one of the paintings on the wall. Just another oil canvas in a dusty frame that you’ve never taken much time to critique. You purse your lips as you study it.

“Yeah, you’re right,” You come to realize, glancing back at him. “You’ve been exploring out there?”

He sits back a bit, as a tall brunette comes to fill your water glasses, brown eyes on you and a small smile on his mouth. “Yeah, a little. It’s quiet out there.”

“Lonely?” You prompt, lips stretching into an amused grin. Man, it almost gets him again. He bites at the inside of his cheek to keep from matching your look, rolling his eyes as he looks back towards the painting.

“Get real.” He mutters.

He watches you resting your chin on your palm and batting your eyelashes and simply shakes his head.

“This isn’t a date, by the way,” He’s cool as can be, staring back at you like you hadn’t seen the look in his eyes when you had him laughing. “You did me a favor, so this is me bein’ nice.”

“Well,” You hum, tapping your fingers along the edge of your glass, “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Louie’s isn’t exactly a busy spot at the best of times, but especially not on a Monday night. It’s just the two of you, the waitress who was rude to you in the playground all those years ago, and maybe a couple of line cooks in the back. 

The entire place is wood-paneled three quarters of the way up the wall, with green paint covering the rest. There are family photos and mass-produced paintings on the walls, and dust on the lampshades. Roy Orbison playing on the jukebox. A candle in a glass jar lit on the table between you.

He pays attention as you recite your usual order, finding the items on the menu as you go. Then, probably to make this thing easy and over sooner, he decides he’ll just take the same. 

Begrudgingly, he has to admit that your choice and your order is better than he had been expecting. Good, even. It feels good, being out and sitting across from a pretty girl, picking at fries that are a little too salty, like nothing had ever happened. Trying not to laugh too hard at her jokes, even when his lips keep twitching around the straw of his ice-cold Coke. It has been a long time. 

It’s almost disappointing to settle the check, and to have to see you walking ahead of him back to the truck. The rain has stopped and the air is grassy and piney, the sky a fading lilac, casting shades of blue across your skin. 

Cooler breeze passes you by, bristling at your skin just enough to make you appreciate the fading heat of earlier that day.

He starts by turning up the radio, tires rolling through a deep, mud-splattered puddle as he pulls out of the parking lot. You should feel exhausted after being at the Pines from the crack of dawn, but he’s got your stomach alight. Tapping his foot to the drum beat absently, one hand on the wheel, his jaw set and his shoulders straight. 

“Which way?” Like he couldn’t piece it together. You were walking home today, you’d hightailed it to the right after leaving Dutch’s last night. It would take him minutes to find his way to your front door.

Stretching your arms above your head, you sigh and settle back against the door. “Next left and then right at the lights.”

He was right. The guesses in his head would have led him to the Post Office near the park, and then he spots that station wagon in the driveway. He lets you direct him to the right house anyway.

Sturdy car in the driveway, flower boxes on every window, and the greenest lawn on the street. It looks like a nice place to have grown up. If he had grown up in a place like this, he wouldn’t be itching to leave half as badly as you are.

He looks back to you, watching him and trying to figure out how to route the conversation back to what had happened in that dark parking lot last night.

“Thanks for helping me out today.” The plain white fabric of his t-shirt stretches around his arm as he cards his fingers through his curls. 

You bite at the inside of your cheek. Fingers skimming over the stitching in the seats as you try to figure out your next move. Late already, he’s in no hurry. 

“I guess I’ll see you Friday.” You decide.

His brows draw together. “Friday?”

You smile, pointing down at the significantly smaller stack of red papers now between the two of you. “Uh-huh. Friday at eight.”

Friday at eight. You’ll stroll through those lit arches, looking for him. His brows knit a bit, but he doesn’t tell you to stay away, that’s not in the rules. 

He flattens his mouth a little, almost a smile but not the same kind where his eyes had lit up so bright.

“Right,” He nods. “Friday.”

You smile at him, reaching across and giving his arm a quick squeeze before you turn and hop down from the truck.

If this was a date, he would walk you to your door and sneak a kiss before your overprotective mother found an excuse to come to the door and introduce herself to him, which is when he would be charming enough to impress her but cool enough not to embarrass you. 

Your heartbeat ticks steadily in your chest. You’re already thinking about what you’ll wear on Friday night— whether you’ll bring Olive, or Georgie— absolutely not Billy. He watches you climb the porch steps and let yourself in through the creaking, blue door with the glass pane in the middle, not stopping to look back at him because you’re worried that your parents will notice it was a stranger who brought you home. Your mother greets you from the kitchen.

His mouth dries as he pulls away from the curb.

He could be like Jake, and let himself enjoy the feeling. Pretend that he hasn’t done the things he has, pretend that he hasn’t sat and listened to all the thoughts you have about him. 

He could pretend that he really doesn’t want to see you at the show this weekend.

But, the sun has already set on his day of normalcy. He turns the sound dial, tapping his foot to the only radio frequency that doesn’t drop out on the backroads out of town, windows down and the scent of fresh-cut, wet grass and new deliveries of hay carried by the evening breeze.

Fingers draped loosely around the cracked leather of the wheel, shooting the occasional glance over to the empty passenger seat. 

Lilac skies casting shadows across the rolling fields all the way out of town. 

It’s forty minutes before the truck pulls onto that gravel driveway with a growingly familiar crunch. He stops it in his spot by Jake’s trailer and steps out onto the mulchy, wet grass, following the sounds of conversation until he gets to the yellow RV. 

The yellow RV houses Natasha, Bob and more recently Mickey — but that’s just until he apologizes to Reueben. Most nights, that’s where you can find the guys. It’s the furthest vehicle on the row, and Natasha always lays out rugs and the camping furniture that’ll fit in the storage space.

Like he knew he would, he finds his friends busied with a game of poker, settled into the chairs they could scrounge up, illuminated by a couple of camping torches.

Jake’s tall tale about one of their times back on the West Coast falls flat, trailing off until it stops all together. He watches Rooster cross the lot, headed right for them.

Wordless, Rooster greets his friends with a cool smile as he steps right by them and plants himself into a wooden chair at the far side of the circle.

“You were gone a while.” It’s Javy that comments first, meaning well, not doing the best job at hiding his cards as Natasha studies them shamelessly from his side.

“Yeah.” Rooster agrees, sitting forwards as Callie kicks her legs up and stretches them across his. “Deal me in.” 

Jake’s brows draw together, their round seemingly dead in the water as Bob starts to collect the cards back in. He studies Rooster through the warm light of the lantern, narrowing his eyes just a bit.

“You want to play?” Jake scoffs.

Rooster rarely plays with them. He usually makes a point of keeping to himself, when they’re all together. He likes Natasha, and he’ll keep her company, when he’s not with Maverick. Everyone knows that he likes to pretend that he’s stuck with Jake, rather than accompanying him by choice.

Rooster’s mouth twitches, reaching out and letting Bob set the cards in his hand, meeting Jake’s gaze for the first time since he sauntered past him and sat down.

“Scared you’ll lose?”

…

NEXT CHAPTER

TELL ME WHAT YOU LIKED

tags: @sunflowercharlie13 @spinning-away @eloquentdreamer-blog1@a-reader-and-a-writer@breezyweazybeezy@mel119g@hersuitisbanana@one-sweet-gubler@atarmychick007@ximehs@nnatel@topherwrites@seitmai@yepyeahuhhuh@cherrycola27@ohtobeleah@roosterbruiser

[fictionismyreality3]

Hi! I love your writing and i was wondering if you could write something where it’s Bradley and the reader’s wedding and for the sendoff they do something like this causeI thought its was so cute. If you can’t that’s totally fine but thanks anyway! 🫶

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CyRCdL3uZL8/?igsh=Zmx5NWd6aW1rOXRn

A Day to Remember

Tags: Rooster x reader

Notes: hi babes!! Thank you much for the request, sorry it took so long, school is kicking my ass 😅

Warnings: weddings, romance and everything that comes with it

"No. There's no way I'm gonna have oragami F-16s thrown at my head on my wedding day." You laughed incredulously. 

When Bradley had proposed, you thought your life couldn't get any better. You had a dream job, a dream man, and friends that had been exactly what you needed, even though they were unexpected. Telling the squad went exactly how you expected, everyone was more excited than they had been when Roo and Maverick survived the Dagger mission. But no one had been more thrilled than Phoenix. When Pheonix asked to help plan the wedding, you were hesitant at first. 

You had first-hand experience with her lack of party-planning skills. Somehow, even though she was incredibly organized during her work, the woman had an utterly disastrous record with parties. 

And your wedding was going to be a pretty big party. 

But how could you say no to Phoenix? She had been there for you through everything. From showing up at your door with pints of ice cream when your favourite character died in the show you were watching to going full Godzilla on the new recruits that tried to hit on you. It was nearly impossible to say no to her when she pulled her puppy dog eyes out and started reciting every favour you owed her. 

So you agreed.

"C'mon, please? It will be cute, I promise." She pleaded as you continued to put your toppings on your pizza. 

It was Wednesday, which Phoenix had decided was the designated wedding planning day. She would show up with a bottle of whatever you guys wanted to drink and you would make the pizza, frozen to accommodate for the cooking skills neither of you possessed.

"Look, I already let you get away with the abundance of mason jars, I'm not getting divebombed by a bunch of the planes that we fly." You grinned. 

Rolling her eyes, Phoenix conceded, and that was how a lot of the planning was settled. Phoenix would bring up hundreds of crazy ideas, and you would filter through her overly enthusiastic party planning to find the good ones. You and Bob would rein her in whenever she got carried away, especially when she brought up the idea of having a literal rooster at the wedding. 

"I think it's hilarious," Rooster said as you two got ready for the day. He came up behind you, turning you around to face him as he lifted you up onto the bathroom counter. Your hands automatically came to rest on his shoulders, fitting perfectly just like the two of you had when you met. 

"You have one already and you can't seem to get enough, honey." He continued grinning. 

You swatted at his chest, giggling as he began to pepper kisses along your neck, following a path that only he knew down to your collarbone. You tilted your head back to give him access to your soft skin that only he would ever earn, and your words came out in a breathy sigh. 

"I think you just-" Your train of thought halted as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot of your neck. "You just like the idea of a little Roo running around, you brute." 

The rest of that morning consisted of him trying to make said 'little Roo' happen, not that you were complaining. 

The wedding was 3 months away and you were choosing your dress. Payback had insisted you go to the boutique that his grandmother used to run, saying that you could even get a dress for free. You tried to urge against it, but after his granda met you she wouldn't hear a 'no'. 

"Oh, it's so nice that my Rueben made some friends. Let me tell you about the time he.." 

So you agreed. 

Everything was ready and Phoenix was running around like a madwoman trying to orchestrate the chaos of venues, cakes and flowers into one magnificent symphony. It was 3 days out from the wedding and you had gone with your bridesmaids to the hotel Pheonix had rented to have some much-needed girl time. Rooster and the rest of the guys had done the same, probably off partying somewhere under Mav's watchful eyes. 

As you sat getting your nails done, the colour a baby blue that Rooster had picked out, you continued to poke at Phoenix for the details of the wedding. She had demanded to keep you out of the loop when it came to the majority of the venue decoration she had selected. Even Rooster wouldn't spill when you called him that night. 

"I don't wanna face her wrath, honey. You know-" He began. 

"Hey! No talking to the groom. It's bad luck!" Phoenix said as she plucked the phone from your hand.

When your wedding day finally came, you were a ball of nerves. As you got blindfolded and brought up to bridal sweet to get ready, you could only imagine what combinations of decor she had concocted. In your mind, you replayed the time she tried to throw a Christmas party for the squad that resulted in one too many poppers, a fireplace, and a whole lot of firetrucks. 

"Ready, kid?" Maverick's voice broke you out of your thoughts. 

Taking one last look in the mirror at yourself, the dress you had picked out making you look like a princess, you nodded and took his arm. As the two of you finally stopped in front of the doors that stood between you and your future, your heart swelled with anticipation. The sound of Bruno Mars 'Just the Way You Are' being played on the piano filled your ears, and Mav straightened where he stood, looking down at you with a proud smile. 

"That's our cue, kid. You got this." He whispered to you as the doors opened. 

All at once every ounce of fear or worry you had been holding on to dissipated. 

Phoenix had outdone herself. 

White Calla Lilies hung from the ceiling, surrounded by fairy lights and other perfectly placed bobbles. Every table was decorated with a centrepiece of forget-me-nots and daisies. The teary smiles of your family and friends stared at you in happiness. Even the mason jar candles sat in just the right amounts. 

Your eyes locked on Bradley, whose tears were already flowing, and you walked down the aisle without hesitation. 

Mav handed you off to Bradley, muttering a few protective words before going to take his seat as the priest began to speak. 

"Hey, you." You whispered to Bradley.

"Hey, hun." He choked out through tears. 

Both of you stood at the altar, grinning ear to ear at each other. Your vows to each other made sure there wasn't a dry eye left in the room. 

"You may now kiss the-" The priest began to say.

He didn't even get a chance to finish before Rooster already had his hands on either side of your face and was slamming his lips to yours. He was kissing you so hard your hands shot out to hold the lapels of his suit jacket so your swooning didn't cause you to fall over.

The crowd erupted in cheers, and you could hear the distinct sound of Hangman and the other guys hooting and hollering as Bradley poured every single ounce of love he had for you into the kiss. 

You had your first dance to 'Ain't No Mountain High Enough', and before you knew it you and Rooster were being whisked away by Phoenix for your send-off. 

The same send-off that she had refused to tell you about. 

"Just don't get mad!" She said quickly.

"Nat? What do you mean? What did you do?" You looked to Rooster for help but he was wearing the same conspiratorial grin as Phoenix. 

Before you could say anything else, she was already pushing both of you outside. It took a second for your eyes and ears to adjust to the sight and sound of your cheering loved ones who were lining the steps of the venue. It took even longer to process what you saw in each of their hands. 

Instead of baskets of rice, everyone there was holding what looked like a piece of paper. You were about to ask Bradley what was going on, but then something hit you in the side of your head. Startled, you went to turn to see what hit you, only to be greeted with the sight of a mischievous Phoenix holding two origami planes. 

Two F-16s to be exact. 

Before you could react, you and Rooster were getting pelted by a rain of paper F-16s. You burst out laughing as he grabbed your hand, pulling you to the limo so quickly you barely got a chance to wave goodbye to everyone. 

You let out a sigh of contentment as you slipped into the limo, looking back at the perfect venue and perfect friends who had planned it all. 

Okay, maybe you'd let Phoenix plan every party you had. 

[pinkiemachine]

Superman: Origin Story! 🎉

Part one involving what became of Krypton and the rest of the El family will be linked below.

Lara and Cal crash landed together on Earth (specifically, outside of Smallville Kansas) in the summer of 1977 with their escape pod badly damaged, and Lara bleeding out. As luck would have it, a young couple was driving through that part of the country and saw what they thought was a plane of some sort crash land. John Kent jumped out of the car and went to check to see if there were survivors and found a Kryptonian escape pod, steaming and smoking, with a woman and baby inside. Lara could tell that she didn’t have much time. Attempting to speak to John (though, he didn’t understand her language) she asked that he would take care of her son and bring help. Along with Cal, she also gave John a small, hand-held device that he couldn’t figure out the purpose of. Then… she died.

John was left standing there, not knowing what to do for a few seconds. Ultimately, he figured he ought to bury the body out of respect, so he ran back to his wife to give her the baby. By that point, though, there were already dark shapes on the horizon. Martha spotted them. Black helicopters. The Kents got in their car and sped away as quickly as they could, not wanting to get tangled up in whatever conspiracy this was. John didn’t take them back to house that night. Instead, they kept driving until they reached his sister Emma’s house where they would lay low for a while.

Martha was still holding baby Cal and she couldn’t bear to let him go. She had suffered a miscarriage just a week before and immediately fell in love with the boy. There would be no getting rid of him now. They decided to name him Clark, after a word John thought that the woman in the pod had tried to say to him.

After the black helicopters had gone, and after the crashed pod had mysteriously disappeared, John and Martha went back home and continued on with life. Naturally, they had a million questions, but answers would be very tricky to supply unless they wanted to poke their noses into uncertain places. So they kept to themselves. Clark, meanwhile, was growing up fast and strong. Literally. By the time he was two, he was lifting things he really shouldn’t be able to, running faster than they could keep up with, and falling out trees on purpose (not sustaining any injuries) because it was fun. This was their first inkling that Clark might not be human. (After all, Kryptonians do look a lot like humans.)

I would also like to mention that in this version, Clark has siblings. Yes, a few years after saving Clark, Martha gave birth to another son, Micheal. Then came Sean, then Rueben, and finally Suzie. They all worked together on their father’s farm, though it was kind of an open secret who did most of the work. Clark would out-perform his brothers constantly, and it had become quite the sore spot in the family. But, when the tractor breaks down, who’re you gonna call to get it back to the barn? Probably the superhuman son who can lift it with one hand and fly. They did have a lot of good times as well. They got up to so much stupid stuff…heheh… story for another time.

Clark was told from a young age that he was allowed to use his powers on the farm, but nowhere else. Especially not in town. John and Martha were worried the black helicopters might come back. So Clark did his best, but rumours still abounded. Some of the other kids in his class at school even called him an “alien” because of how weird he acted sometimes. Naturally, he had been told his origins by this point. When he was six, his parents sat him down and explained about the pod and his mother and John gave him the small device that Lara had given him. The moment Clark touched it, it activated. It was a holo-photo projector, and it displayed a portrait of the El family, baby Clark included. This was proof that Clark was from the stars, and from that moment onward, he became obsessed with outer space. By the time he was in middle school, he had star maps and rocket posters pinned up in his room, he tracked down every scrap of alien news and conspiracy theories that he could find, and tried to send out radio signals into deep space with his own dinky, homemade system in the family tree house. He loved his adoptive family, he did, but he also wanted to know what had happened to the rest of his birth family. Were they out there? Did they know where he was? That he was alive? He had so many questions!

Alas, time flew by, and no answers appeared. He had a falling out with one of his brothers (involving Clark losing control and accidentally hurting one of the family dogs with his laser vision) and after high school he left to get a degree in investigative journalism, later taking a job at the Daily Planet in Metropolis. He still talked to his brothers and sister and Ma and Pa, but he felt alienated. He didn’t really belong anywhere. That’s why this job was so important. He would scour the ends of the Earth to find answers.

Little did he know, though, that the escape pod and Lara’s body had been taken by the government and were being experimented on. Head of the classified project currently: Amanda Waller. Most invested investor: Lex Luthor.

Part one here 👇

[sebsxphia]

i’m just thinking about that game that the other anon sent you and all i can imagine is one of the dagger squad has feelings for you and you have to do something promiscuous with one of the others and they get all possessive and grab you and tells everyone that you guys gotta go 😭😭😭

-🧚‍♀️

drinking games.

jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader.

￫ description: jake’s the designated driver for the evening and watching as you play drinking games with the dagger squad. when you get dared to perform an act on bradley, everything should be fine, right?

￫ word count: 1.6K.

￫ c/w: alcohol, being drunk, sexual acts being performed, daddy kink, dumbification if you squint, swearing, kissing, neck biting and ass pinching.

￫ a/n: thank you so much my beloved anon for making this come to light! <3 this is part of my 3.5K celly here! my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Mickey could barely contain his laughter as he read from the suggestive card, eyeing your intrigue from across the circle that was crowded in Bradley’s living room. “Oh God, okay, okay.” Mickey composed himself and took a swig of his sixth beer, everyone following closely behind with their own multitude of concoctions. Mickey breathed out a steady breath before revealing the gag. “Give a lap dance to the person on your left.”

Natasha clapped her hand over her mouth and let out a muffled scream at the realization that it was Bradley who you were giving the lap dance to. Bob slapped his hand on Mickey’s shoulder and howled out in laughter, his head being launched forward as he clutched at his sides. Bob was notorious for getting way more giggly and outlandish once he’d sunk a couple of beverages. It made sense why he didn’t drink the warm Summer evening they met at the Hard Deck all those years ago.

Rueben and Javy let out cheers and hollers in response at the proposed action, however Javy gave a fleeting glance over to Jake who was the only one not laughing. His hands were clasped tightly together with his jaw set firm and his eyebrows knitted together. He was the only one not drinking tonight, pulling the short straw and having to drive Javy, Rueben and you back home. From an outsiders perspective, it would look like Jake was exhausted with trying to keep up with seven Navy pilots who hadn’t been drunk in months.

At present, Javy was the only one privy to the arrangement you and Jake had had for the past three months. It was simply casual sex which turned into something more serious within the past two weeks.

You were yet to tell the Dagger squad, but you both agreed there was something about the sneaking around and the silent suspicion of it all that you both enjoyed. The fleeting glances you would share in the hanger, occasionally brushing hands when you were suiting up for training that day. It was sending a flying feeling through you both, eliciting a growing hunger and a need to take each other in the nearest storage room the moment you had any time to yourselves.

But at this moment in time, in Bradley’s living room, on the one night a month when you all got together and had a drink, you had to hide it more than ever. You played off Mickey’s proposed suggestion from the boozy card game and acted like giving Bradshaw a lap dance was just like any other flirty move you’d pulled before. There was nothing to it and there was certainly nothing to it to anyone else in the room right now.

Right?

The rouge on Bradley’s cheeks could only be noticed by Jake. The others had their senses inhabited and it drove Jake up the wall. Bradley took a swig of his beer and sat back in his arm chair, resting his board arms over the back with his thighs spread. Bradley wriggled his eyebrows at you playfully and smacked one of his thighs breifly. Jake let out a silent scoff at the motion and rolled his eyes under his hooded gaze.

“Come on, honey. Lay it on me!”

“He doesn’t bite!” Natasha encouraged from next to you, which caused Rueben to snort with laughter, everyone knowing of Bradley and Natasha’s fleeting hook up prior to Top Gun.

You barked out a laugh in respone to Bradley’s crude action and buried your face in your hands to hide the embarrassment that was slowly working it’s way up to the surface. You were happy to play along with everyone else, but you were reminded of Jake sat two people away from you.

You caught his eyes as you took a hefty swig of the cocktail Javy had very kindly made up for you. Javy wasn’t one to fuck around with measurements and you needed the dutch courage more than anything right now. The heavy gaze of Jake bore deep into you. It made your heart hammer against your rib cage violently and you felt something shift, deep down in your core. Did it turn you on to have Jake watch you do this?

That would be another thing to work through later.

Jake had shifted in his seat now. His two feet were planted firmly on the ground with his thighs spread slightly apart. His elbows were resting on his knees and his clasped hands were brought close to his face, presumably to hide the furious jealously that was coming closer to the surface. Jake nodded curtly as if to give you the signal and wordlessly, he warned you. “Go on. Do it.”

“Wait, wait!” Mickey clambered up from his seat and went to his phone that was currently in charge of the playlist. He switched it up to a song that made you feel like Bradley was about to pay for this lap dance.

A sea of ‘whoops’ and ‘hollers’ echoed across the Dagger squad at Mickey’s quite frankly, scandalous, song choice. Everyone was bubbling with excitement for the show you were about to put on, all expect for one person in particular. You knew Jake was going to punish you through to next year for this, but…

There was a flicker across his hardened gaze on you that suggested he wanted you to do this. He wanted to see you dance on Bradley as you held his eye contact instead. He wanted to watch you grind your ass in calculated circles on Bradley’s crotch, imagining it was him instead.

He wanted you to put on a show for him, and that’s exactly what you fucking did.

You saddled yourself onto Bradley for the duration of the song, moving your hips and ass in smooth motions that would have anyone drooling. Before you could even register it, the dance was over and Bradley gave you a very polite round of applause. Perhaps it was to hide his growing semi. The group were too drunk themselves to notice, but unfortunately Jake had already clocked on.

That was enough for Jake for Bradley to insinuate that he’d enjoyed it a little too much and it was the final straw. He watched you stumble back to your seat due to your legs giving in from the lap dance, but Jake used it as the perfect excuse for everyone that you’d had too much to drink. Before you could question what Jake was doing, you felt his big hand grab onto your arm, swinging his car keys in his other.

“Alright, sorry to cut this short but I think they need to go home guys.” A disappointed chorus of groans could be heard and you looked over at Jake. “I’ll take ‘em home. Catch you guys on Monday.” His tone was firm and it cut through any protests from the squad. His tightly knitted brows and set jaw made you clench around nothing. You knew that look on Jake and he was pissed. He wanted to leave with you in tow as quick as he could fly his damn plane.

You bid your goodbyes and let out a squeal of giggles when Jake tugged on your arm to hurry you along. You caught Natasha’s face just before you left Bradley’s living room and she raised her glass, screaming out after you, “get it!”

“Where ‘re they goin’?” Bob slurred to Natasha, adjusting his glasses on his face, finally registering you and Jake had left.

“Bone.”

Bob snorted in response to Natasha and clapped his hands together in celebration.

“Shots anyone?”

Bob’s voice echoing through the hallway was the last you heard before the front door to Bradley’s was shut behind you. Jake had cut you off completely. It left you alone with the big, bad, wolf. The night air hit your face in turn. It was still warm and a little muggy being Summer time. Jake’s grip lessened on your arm and you followed on behind to his truck parked up in Bradley’s drive.

“C’ ere.” Jake’s voice was gruff with the Southern drawl peeking through. Despite the warmth of the Summer air, it sent a chill down your spine and spread easily to your cunt. His large hands gripped onto your waist and spun you around to push your chest against his car door. Jake pressed his broad chest flush against your back and you felt his lips ghost over your neck, his breath tickling your flesh and making goosebumps rise in its wake. “What the fuck was that, sweets?” Jake’s voice was close to your ear and low.

You decided to toy with him a little and you pressed your ass back against his crotch. Testing the waters, you put on the most sickly sweet voice you could muster. “What was what?”

Jake let out a grunt from deep within his chest and pinned his hips into you, jolting you forward. He sunk his teeth into the soft flesh under your ear and nipped at you. “Don’t you dare play fuckin’ dumb with me.”

“I was just playin’ the game, lover boy.”

“Play-” Jake scoffed out a laugh and shook his head, keening his mouth against your neck to leave more crescent shapes on your skin with his teeth. He was unable to believe your audacity to play innocent right now. “Playin’ the game? No, no. You were doin’ more than that. I saw you, I watched every, single, move, of your hips, every touch of your hand.” One of Jake’s own hands left your waist and slinked it down in between you both to pinch at your ass harshly. “Who was that for, me or Bradley?”

The sensation of Jake pin pointing your sweet spots with small pinches of pain made you gasp. A wanton moan escaped your mouth in response to Jake’s fiery touch encapsulating your very being. You were simply incapable to hold them back anymore.

“You.”

“You, who?”

Jake pinched at you again and you succumbed to the Devil completely.

“You… Daddy.”

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @unmistakablyunknown

tagging those who were interested in the wip: @sugarcoated-lame @chicomonks @emorychase @wkndwlff

[ram-bam-writes]

RHO (Ridin' Him Out) [Jake Seresin x NB Reader]

A/N: Hope you hoes enjoy this blurb :> I will not apologize for the vice grip that fucking commercial has on me. I need someone to hit me with that goddamn truck.

Pt. 2

Word Count: 470

CW: Smut (semi-explicit), fingering, semi-public fucking, no beta we die like goose, etc

It isn’t your fault that Jake Seresin is an avid outdoorsman. It isn’t your fault that Hangman is an adrenaline junkie. And it certainly isn’t your fault that your boyfriend’s new truck is hot as fuck, especially covered in mud.

But what is your fault is how quickly you ended up in the bed of it, bare-bodied and panting like a hound.

You couldn’t help it. When the Dagger Squad decided to go out on their monthly camping trips, this time bringing their respective partners for a full week of fun, it was supposed to be easy. The layout was simple: Bob and Nat in their trailer, Bradley and his partner in the other trailer, Javy and his partner in a camper, Rueben and Mickey in their house-like tent, and you and Jake in the truck tent beneath the stars. Y’all had scored lucky and gotten spots right next to each other by the camp in Point Mugu — not an easy feat with the beautiful weather and like-minded people.

You expected the camping trip to be easy. You’d brought everything you might need: swimsuits, books, art supplies, games, your bikes, and your camera. With the view of the coastline right next to you and the heat of the fire-pits burning bright, everything was set so you and the rest of the Dagger Squad could relax and enjoy a break from the busy, everyday life of the world. 

But that didn’t last very long. 

Jake had just gotten back from taking his big truck out to go hunting with Bradley and Javy before this trip had started. And he definitely did not have time to wash anything but the inside of the bed before loading it up and hauling both himself and you out to the beach. 

The longer you stare at the truck, the longer you stare at your shirtless boyfriend as he got the fireplace going… Oo, baby, you weren’t gonna last.

Maybe you’re both pushing it as you bite down into Jake's shoulder, muffling your pleasured whines as his fingers curl perfectly inside you, pressing and grinding against that beautiful bundle of nerves inside you. Maybe you’d both wake up the next morning with some lazy grins from Mickey and Rueben. Maybe Nat and Bradley would need to explain to Bob and Bradley’s partner what the others knew. 

But for now, you can’t find it in yourself to care. The quick, feverish jerks of his fingers has you drooling like a mutt, eyes glossed-over and filled with sweet tears. And when his mouth teases your warm chest, tongue swirling over the bud and spelling his goddamn name, nothing else mattered to you but the feel of cold metal on your back and the warm body above you.

After all, the new RHO can take a few hits, can’t it?

[i-try-to-write-stuff]

Stolen Wife - 5

Synopsis – Tommy Shelby is married to Grace, but he becomes obsessed with Y/N, wife of Reuben Fitch, Tommy’s business partner in the U.S. who is unaware of his actual “business”.

This blog supports Palestine. Zionists are not welcome here.

You don’t know how your life turned into a nightmare…a ghoulish nightmare. One moment you were happy and celebrating your pregnancy with your family and friends and the next moment, you were getting held at gun point by a robber, you knew your husband had a gun in his pocket, something you loathed but at that moment you were happy that he had that gun, the robber must have seen the gun when he shot Rueben erratically, and then he turned on you, Rueben protected you till his dying breath, Rueben shot the robber with his gun and saved your life, but your husband your family was taken away from you, your husband and best friend snatched from you. You couldn’t even comprehend what had happened. When you woke up in the hospital, for a moment you thought it was a bad nightmare, but the machines attached to you signaled the opposite.

The attending doctor told you that you were shot in the chest, the bullet miraculously had missed your heart but punctured your lung, and you were lucky to be alive. But were you lucky? Or were you the unluckiest person, you had lost everything, your husband was shot dead in front of you, the shooter shot you too but missed the first shot and was not alive to shoot the next bullet.

“I am sorry Mrs. Fitch; we could not save the baby…” these words brought you out of your mind fog. Instinctively your hand went to your abdomen…Your baby died too…Your one connection to Rueben died too…You were catatonic…You could not even do the basic job of protecting the life growing within you…You never felt so useless.

Your friends and family gave you space, space to mourn, space to grieve not just your husband, but your child too…

Police called it an armed robbery but Javy, Mickey, Nat, Brad, Jake did not think so, but they didn’t say anything. They increased your security. They changed your locks, your cameras and every damn device, while you were in hospital. They even increased the surrounding security in hospital. Rueben knew how dangerous his line of work was, and your security was paramount to him. For you, your husband was a military contractor with a pub he ran with his friends, you just didn’t know that your husband was involved in illegal activities as well which included drugs, liquor and arms.

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

You were on your way to get to some Chai with oat-milk, trying not to break down every damn morning, missing your husband and the morning rituals you shared with him. You bumped into Tommy in a café in Vancouver, Canada of all places, physically bumped into him, you were in over your head, and you were not looking where you were supposed to be going.

“Oh, I am so sorry.” You looked to apologize to the stranger, but you were met with relatively known steely blue eyes.

“Mrs. Fitch?” Thomas asked in his Brummie accent.

Fuck, that name, that label, that brings up so much sorrow, your eyes well up, but you blink away those tears, you tell yourself, you need to move on…need to power through…It’s been almost a year since your life upended, the love of your life killed in front of your eyes.

Not really, you were unaware of your surroundings, but you were trying to keep to yourself, but Thomas Shelby needed to find a way to talk to you, so he chose the easiest way of it all, crashing into you purposefully.   

You smiled, trying to place him…

“Oh hi” you reply. Tommy saw the questioning look in your eyes, you had no clue who he was or what he was.

“I am Thomas Shelby, we met briefly at a Charity Ball in Birmingham.”

“It is nice to see you again, Mr. Shelby.” you reply politely.

“I heard what happened…I’m sorry for your loss.” Tommy added.

You just nodded reflexively, like you did every fucking time when someone offered their sympathies.

“I didn’t expect to see you here Mrs. Fitch, I thought you lived in San Diego.”

“I did…I do…Well, not now exactly, I am taking a sabbatical and please call me Y/N.” you asked, basically pleading, not wanting another reminder of what you lost or who you were…Rueben’s wife or what you are now…his widow. His sad pathetic widow who is running away from her life because you can’t fucking function properly without your soulmate.

“Only if you call me Tommy” He responded while physically guiding you inside the coffee shop, and there is nothing you can do but comply out of politeness.

Tommy asks you for your order, you wanted to protest and buy your own beverage, but you also didn’t want to be rude. You begrudgingly order some chai. Tommy Shelby bought you your chai but nothing for himself, and it made you feel guilty.

He pushed the mug towards you, you took the mug and thanked him.

“So, Y/N, what are you doing here?” Tommy asked in his heavy Brummie accent.

“I guess, I just needed to get away…”

“I heard what happened. I am sorry for your loss.” Tommy consoled.

Do not cry, do not cry, do not cry….you chant mentally.

You clear your throat and squeak out “Thank you”.

“So, how long are you here for?” Tommy probed.

“I don’t know, I may be here for a while, or I may leave and find another city to go to which is safe… Mickey usually sends me the locations that are relatively safer for me. I do not have any timeline.” You reply.

Tommy knows that very well. He is well-aware of Rueben’s people taking care of your security. Tommy only got to know about your location from his people on the East Coast, namely Michael.

“That’s fun, why don’t you come visit us in Birmingham?” Tommy proposes.

You are taken aback by his proposition, you don’t really know what to say, you barely know this man, why would he invite you to his home?

“Mr. Shelby…ummm…I mean Thomas, I don’t think that is a good idea…”. You mumble out.

“Why not? I see it in your eyes, you are trying to escape your painful memories, anyone can see that…why don’t you join us in another continent as long as you want where Rueben and his memories wouldn’t haunt you.” Tommy confronts you, basically bringing up everything that your family and friends have been thinking…going for your jugular.

You gulp nervously, you didn’t expect some relatively unknown person to expose your wounds and like a wounded animal you ran away from that table. You did not like being confronted by the likes of Thomas Shelby, how dare he say anything about what you should do….

[topguncortez]

What to Expect | Chapter 10

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: Jake thinks about his future in the Navy as your due date draws closer. What was supposed to be a joyous last day of school, ends up with a call you never wanted to get.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: pregnancy, cursing, topgun shit, missions, end of the school year sadness, Jake's PTSD,

Jake had missed being in the middle of the ocean and being on the carrier. He sat on one of the decks, looking out at the waves crashing against the carrier, and feeling the salty breeze against his skin. He wondered if his little girl would like the ocean and the beach as much as he did. Jake smiled to himself as he looked down at his boots. He never realized how much he could miss home. Of course he always missed you while he was gone on deployments or detachments, but he filled the time with flying and hanging with his friends. But now, the only thing he wanted to do was curl up with you and nuzzle his face into your bump. 

“There you are,” Payback said, snapping Jake out of his thoughts, “Been searching the whole damn place for you. Mav wants to go over flight stuff.” 

“Yeah, sorry, lost track of time,” Jake said, pushing himself up from the ground. Payback held his hand out and helped pull him up, “Thanks, man.” 

“No problem. How’s the lady?” 

“Good, tired of being pregnant.” 

Payback chuckled, “Man, I remember those days. When Nina was pregnant with Jay, I thought she was going to kill me by the eighth month.” 

“How do you do it?” Jake asked, “Being away from them. I mean, my daughter isn’t even born yet and I’m half tempted to take a jet and fly home. Does it get easier?” 

“No,” Payback said honestly, “It doesn’t. And when you see your little girl for the first time, you’ll be all too prepared to retire as soon as possible. But, the longing makes you love coming home even more.” 

“Aren’t you sad about what you miss?” 

“Of course, that’s part of being a parent. But it makes the moments when you are there even more special.” 

“Thank you,” Jake said and Payback clapped him on the back. 

“No problem. I gotta welcome you to the Dagger Squad Dad’s club. I’ve been the only one for too long,” Payback joked and Jake chuckled. 

“I’m guessing my welcome gift is a pair of new balances and a barbecue set.” 

“Oh for sure.” 

Maverick was less than impressed when Jake and Rueben walked into the briefing room late. He got right to work on explaining what their next task at hand was. The whole point of the detachment was for security and training opportunities. The last time they really had a chance to be on a carrier like this was during the Uranium Mission. This time, there was no immediate threat or enemy that they had to be weary of. It made Jake somewhat less worried and nervous about being away from you. 

“Hangman, Rooster, Fanboy and Payback,” Maverick called out the pilots’ callsigns, “I want you all on deck ready to go for flight plan B. Two singles and a team flier.” 

Jake looked over at Rooster who clenched his jaw. The two of them had hardly spoken unless it had something to do with the mission. Everyone could feel the tension between them, it was a bit awkward and heated. Jake had tried to make amends with Rooster for the sake of the mission, and for your sake too, but Rooster had no intention of making nice with Jake. 

The pilots agreed and were dismissed from the briefing room. Jake went right to the computer lab, going to check his email for what was probably the tenth time today. It was the only form of communication he had with you back home. You had promised to send him pictures and updates as much as you could. Though, things weren’t really changing as you entered the 32nd week of your pregnancy. Jake’s green eyes watched the loading bar cautiously waiting for the screen to pop up. A smile came across his face as he saw a brand new email notification from you. Attached as a picture of the newest ultrasound and your growing belly. 

— — — 

“Are your boobs leaking?” Your sister Stephanie asked. You looked down at your light blue shirt and groaned, “Is that normal?” 

“Apparently,” You grabbed a paper towel and dabbed at your breast. It had only been a week since the Daggers left for detachment. Your sisters Stephanie and Gia decided to come back and visit while your dad was away on this detachment. Even though your mother had been well versed in the life of being married to a pilot, it was still hard to be alone. Gia hadn’t seen you since you moved back to San Diego, and you had been dreading the moment. 

Gia wasn’t always the nicest sister, being the middle sister out of the three girls (her and Dylan were the official middle children). Gia always strived to be the star of the family, wanting to be the one that carried on the Kazansky namesake in the army. She wanted people to think of her when they thought of ‘Kazansky’ not Stephanie or Dylan or even you (before you said you weren’t going to join). To her, you were the angel of the family, the sibling who could never do wrong. You got what you wanted, you had Ice’s attention constantly, you were the true star of the family. And Gia hated it. She always had a way of making you feel less than everyone else. Even now, as fully grown adults.

“Have you talked to Jake?” Stephanie asked. 

“No, I haven’t,” You sighed, pulling your jacket over your body the best you could. You thought weeks ago you couldn’t get any bigger, but you were quickly proven wrong. 

“He’s probably busy,” Stephanie shrugged, giving you a warm smile. 

“Or banging a shipman,” Gia said as she walked into the kitchen. You sucked in a breath and Stephanie glared at her, “Is that why you two broke up?” 

“Gia, really?” Stephanie scolded, “Enough of that shit.” 

“What? Just pointing out the fact that he’s a cheater and you’re having a child out of wedlock,” Gia grabbed a grape off the kitchen counter, “How is the rugrat?” 

“Busy,” You mumbled as Baby girl moved around inside you, “Still breech, but they said that’s normal.” 

“Hope you don’t have to have a c-section. The scar will ruin your perfect skin complexion.” 

“Can you say anything nice today? Or do you have to be such a bitch all the time, Gia?” Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her sibling, “Seriously? What’s the deal?” 

“Nothing,” Gia shrugged, “Just nice to see the perfect princess’s plans finally getting put off track.” Gia winked at you before walking out of the kitchen like nothing had happened. 

You tried hard not to cry, but you couldn’t help letting a few tears slip down your cheeks. Everyone knew damn well that a baby before marriage was not in your plans. You had always talked about your fairytale wedding since you were a child. A dress like Princess Di’s, a big cathedral decorated with beautiful flowers, a beautiful ring placed on your finger. After marriage you wanted to spend at least two years doing just married couple things like traveling the world and settling in a new house, getting a couple of animals before kids. 

You almost had that with Jake. You had the house, the animals, the plans in the works of getting married, but it all halted when Jake came home from the Uranium Mission and told you the lie of his infidelity. You had suddenly found yourself having to rebuild a dream that had been destroyed. You wondered if that was even going to be possible, you didn’t think that you could ever find a man like Jake. And then, you got a second chance at the dream life you wanted to have, just in a different order. 

“Hey, don’t listen to her,” Stephanie said, frowning at the tears on your cheeks, “She’s bitter cause Steven is being sneaky again, even though she kind of deserves it.” 

“She doesn’t deserve that shit,” You sighed, “I know how it feels and it’s horrible. Even though she’s a bitch, she doesn’t deserve to be cheated on.” 

“And this is why you’re everyone's favorite,” Stephanie said and booped your nose. You rolled your eyes and stood up from your chair. 

“Oh, um. . . the teachers at school want to throw me a small little baby shower. It’s just like cake and ice cream, kinda more of an end of the school year thing,” You said, “Jake won’t be there so-” 

“Of course I will be there!” Stephanie yelled and threw her arms around you in a hug. Stephanie was always the hugger of the family, something she clearly got from your mother. You tried to not tell her about certain events or awards you got because she would always pull you in for a bone crushing hug. You were suddenly very thankful that your belly was in the way of her crushing you. 

“Oh my god, I should bake cookies!” 

“Yeah, you do that,” You said and walked out of the kitchen before you could get sucked into baking way too many chocolate chip cookies. 

— — — 

The end of the school year always made you a bit sad. Spending nine months getting to know students, watching them grow and learn over the year. You loved summer and the time off, but you missed seeing the smiling faces of your students every day. Usually, what kept you going through the summer and the end of the school year was the fact that you would still see your old students when August would roll back around. Except, this year was different. You wouldn’t be coming back to school in August. You weren’t quite sure if you were going to come back at all. 

The idea to be a stay-at-home used to never be something that you liked. You didn’t understand how your mom could stand being home all day with four kids. You had even asked her if she would do something differently if she had the chance, and she told you that she was happy with the way her life was. Jake had never pushed the idea of that on you, either. He viewed raising children as an equal thing between mother and father. In fact, he even thought about staying home and raising kids just so you could still go teach and do what you loved. But you both knew, with his job, it would be nearly impossible. 

So you contemplated just staying home for the whole year. Knowing that Jake could possibly be deployed at a drop of a hat, you wanted to be prepared for that to happen. You knew that it would be nearly impossible for you to come back to work after spending five months home with your little one. Jake knew that he was probably going to cry on his first day going back to work after his paternity leave was up. 

“Miss K?” You looked up from your desk to see Owen standing in front of it, “We have a card for you.” 

“You do?” You asked. You had put on a movie for the kids to watch in the last part of the day before early dismissal. What you didn’t realize while you were trying not to cry about having to take down the decorations in your room was that your kids had made a card and were passing it around the room for each of them to sign. Owen nodded and you paused the movie, standing up and walking to the front of your classroom. 

“Miss Ortega helped us write it,” Joy, one of your second graders said. You made a mental note to give Alyssa a hug later. 

“You told us we might not see you next year, and it made some of us sad,” Owen said, “And then we saw you get sad about it so we decided to make you a going away card for you and the baby.” 

You took the card from his outstretched hands, “To our favorite second grade teacher,” You blinked back tears as you opened the card, “This year you have taught us a lot; how to read chapter books, the regions of the United States, standard multiplication, and how to build the perfect paper airplane,” You chuckled and wiped a tear away, “We will miss you next year, and wish we could have you in third grade. We wish you and Baby K the best. Love, your second graders. And every single one of you signed it.” 

You took a deep breath and held the card to your chest, “You guys are awesome. I hope that one day this little one will be as awesome as you.” 

“Can we give you a hug!?” Amelia shouted. 

“Of course. Very gently, group hug,” You said and 30 some second graders came speed walking up to hug you. You laughed and hugged them all tightly. It really did break your heart to have to say goodbye to this class, probably more than years passed. 

When the school bell rang, you stood by your door, giving each kiddo a hug and a small goody bag on their way out the door for the summer. 

“Miss K,” Owen said. He was the last one in the line, “Can you give something to Mister Jake for me?” 

“For sure,” You said and Owen handed you a piece of yellow paper that had been cut like the wings Jake had given him earlier in the year. You smiled, and Owen wrapped his arms tightly around your waist. 

“I’m going to miss you,” Owen said. 

“I am going to miss you too,” You said, and then kneeled down to Owen’s height, “Don’t let anyone tell you that you aren’t special, okay? You are a very special kid, Owen.” 

“Thank you, Miss K,” Owen said and you nodded, “Bye Miss K and Baby K.” 

“Goodbye Owen, have a happy summer.”

You stood up as Owen ran down the hallway towards the front doors of the school. You sighed, and turned around, looking at your now empty classroom. All the kids had put their chairs on their desks and taken their name tags off. You had given them anything in the class that had their name on it, which left it looking pretty bare.  Your lip quivered and you bit back a sob. Shaking your head, you shut the door, you weren’t able to look at the room anymore without crying. Jake had already agreed to help you clean everything out when he got back. 

“Hey,” Alyssa said, stepping out of her room down the hall, “You okay?” 

“No,” You sniffled, “I’m seven months pregnant, my baby daddy is in the middle of the pacific ocean, and your card made me fucking sob.” 

Alyssa giggled and put her arm around your shoulders, “I’m going to miss coming to bother you during lunch.” 

“Oh don’t you start,” You pushed her arm off of your playfully, “Let’s go. I want cookies. Stephanie has been perfecting her recipe since last week.” 

The staff break room was decorated with balloons and streamers, not only for you but to celebrate the end of the year. Your colleagues were all sad to see you go. Even though you had only been there a year, you had quickly become one of everyone's favorite teachers. Your kindness was infectious, and even teachers from other grades were coming by your room for a quick chat. You were thankful for having such a good team by your side. 

A couple of the other teacher moms gave you some gifts. You got a couple of books, onesies and diapers. It made you sort of realize that you hadn’t started really buying anything for the baby, and time was running out. Alyssa could see the look of panic on your face, and made sure to add things to the registry she and Phoenix had started for you. Stephanie was getting along greatly with some of the teachers, which surprised no one. She was always the social butterfly, and get along with anyone and everyone.  

“Are you ready for the baby to be here?” One of the fourth grade teachers, Mrs. Donohughe asked. 

“Can you ever be ready for a baby?” You asked and she chuckled, “I feel somewhat ready. I’ve had things like the crib and dresser and rocker delivered. But besides that. . . I think this is my first package of diapers I’ve gotten.” 

“You have time to get all that. Might not seem like it, but you will,” She assured you. 

You sucked in a breath as your phone went off. You smiled seeing Jake’s name and contact photo flash across your phone. You excused yourself from the group, and waddled out into the hallway. You swiped to answer it, and let out a sigh. 

“Hey, I’ve been waiting to-” 

“Sweetheart,” Your eyebrows furrowed at the sound of your dad’s voice. You pulled your phone away and double checked that it was in fact Jake’s phone number. 

“Dad? What-Why do you have Jake’s phone?” 

“Sweetheart,” Ice sighed, “There’s been an accident.”

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Pick Baby Seresin's name!

[callsign-peach]

A Very Bradshaw Wedding

summary: it’s your and bradley’s big day, from sunrise to sunset

pairing: established rooster x fem!reader (obvi), platonic!dagger squad x reader

warnings: i’ve only ever been to church weddings so if you’re not a fan of church weddings, sorry. 

word count: 2,175

The opening tones to the Marimba ringtone pulled you from the slumber you were enjoying, and you blindly grasped for your phone. 

“Hello?” You groaned, your voice was still in the dream world.

“Good morning, Mrs. Bradshaw.”

“No, that’s not my last name yet!” You stretched, phone pressed to your ear. “I only signed the paperwork yesterday, the court definitely didn’t get them yet.”

“Well,” Bradley breathed, and you were sure he was still lounging in his bed, as well. “I considered you my wife as soon as we signed the marriage license last week.”

“All right, you got me there, B.” You chuckled, trying not to pick at your well-manicured nails. “What time are you supposed to head to the church?” 

You could hear Pete and Jake trying to get your fiancé to hang up, so you knew your sister would be knocking on your door soon. 

“‘Bout fifteen minutes, I think. Mav wants to get photos of the guys and I in our formal attire.” 

You snorted, picturing Bradley and his fellow aviators in their formal uniforms. When the topic of what the aviators were going to wear came up, you teased Bradley relentlessly. “Trying to steal my thunder, Bradshaw?” 

“Hey, the guys are about to pound the door down, I’ll see you at the end of the altar.” 

“See you in a few, I’ll be the one in white.” 

“Not the only one.” Bradley quipped, and you could hear the smile on his face. “I love you, Mrs. Bradshaw.”

You replied the same, not bothering to comment on your surname this time. 

As you hung up the phone, the door to the hotel opened, and your sister and Penny piled into the room, Amelia following.

“Good morning, it’s your wedding day!” Your sister was already weepy, plucking a Kleenex from the box on the bedside table. 

You thanked Penny for the coffee, the familiar green and brown cup helping wake you up. “What time do we need to be at the church?” 

“Hair stylist said to be there by 10, but we need to leave soon for breakfast!” Amelia was first to reply, the teen was only up before nine on a weekend if there was food on the horizon.

You nodded, slipping on a pair of leggings and the zip-up with bride embroidered across the back; a gift from your Aunt Jeanette after you posted your engagement photos on Facebook.

“Is Nat meeting us there?” You asked, grabbing your phone and purse, following Penny and the others out of the hotel room. 

“Nope, she’s probably waiting for the Lyft.” Amelia replied, and you smiled.

You weren’t one to have a ton of friends growing up, so the three women joining you for breakfast were your bridesmaids, with your sister as your Matron of Honor.

“Let’s go!” Amelia lead the way out to join Natasha at the waiting Lyft. --- “You ready to be the first married man out of us?” Rueben asked, tossing the football over to Bob.

Bradley looked up from where he was staring at the wedding itinerary, distracted. “Hm?”

“Not even a married man, already distracted by the missus.” 

“Fuck off, Bagman.” Bradley replied, no sour tone behind his words. He and the blond aviator had become close friends, with Bradley asking the Texan to be his Best Man a few months ago. 

Rueben repeated his question, and Bradley nodded, smile on his face. “Surprised it took this long, honestly. Knew it as soon as I first met her she was the one.”

The men of the dagger squad all teased the mustached man, yelling when Pete walked into the room and caught the football. --- “Oh! You look so good!” Your sister was near tears again, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“I’m not even dressed yet, sis.” You looked at your reflection, the makeup artist having finished a few moments prior. 

“Remember when Mom would let us try on her wedding dress when we were younger?” You asked. Bittersweet memories of your late mother had been popping up ever since your sister’s wedding four years ago. 

“Come on, time for dresses!” You were thankful for Penny’s distraction before you started to cry, not wanting to ruin the beautiful makeup. 

Rather than having each woman wear a specific dress, you asked them all to find dresses in matching colors, a light blue to complement the groomsmen’s formal blues. 

“You sure you’re okay not wearing your blues?” You asked Natasha, not wanting her to feel minimized by wearing the dress.

“Trust me, I never get to go out to formal events in anything other than my formal blues, I need this.” Natasha smiled, giddy to get dolled up for the day.

You squeezed her hand, letting her go change in the bathroom.

“Have you found your something new yet?” Penny asked, knowing smile on her face.

You were one for traditions, and you wanted to make sure you had all four “somethings” on your wedding day. 

You had your something blue; a patch one of Bradley’s old navy blues had been sewn into your dress. Your something old was the Bradshaw engagement ring, passed to Bradley from his mother, and his mother’s mother. 

Something borrowed was waiting to be adorned to your updo, your sister’s hairpiece from her wedding day. 

Shaking your head, you began to wonder what the older woman had planned. “No, but I’m using my wedding band for that.”

“Mav and I wanted to chip in, make sure you had all you needed before your trip down the aisle.” Penny pulled a long, Tiffany blue box out of her purse, a dainty gold chain with a simple diamond on the end. 

“Pen, I can’t! This is too much!” You had tears welling in your eyes, softly shaking your head. 

“Oh, hush. It’s the least I can do, getting Rooster to stop moping at the bar.” Penny latched the necklace as you held your hair up, her slender fingers patting your shoulder lightly. 

You smiled at her in the mirror, thankful for her maternal presence on such an important day. “Thank you, Pen.”  --- Bradley twisted his cuff links once more, nerves starting to get the best of him. “What’re you thinking, Rooster?”

The aviator looked behind him, smiling at his mentor and godfather. “Hi, Mav.” 

“You ready for this?” Pete asked. The ceremony was set to start in just over two hours, so all the men were prepared to get the wedding photos done. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Bradley nodded, but the older man could tell something was pulling his attention. “I just wish my parents were here.”

Pete sighed, knowing parents were a sore spot for both the groom and bride. “They’re here, Bradley. They’re here and they’re proud.” --- You stared at yourself in the mirror, now adorned in the white dress you had your eyes on ever since Bradley got down on one knee. 

Amelia, Natasha, and your sister were already getting their photos done with the groomsmen, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

A knock on the door tore you from your reverie, and you looked in the mirror to see Pete pop his head in. “Wow.” 

“Hi, Mav.” You smiled, one hand going to your neck. “Thank you for the necklace. It means more than you’ll ever know.”

Pete smiled, softly closing the door behind him. “It’s the least we could do.” 

You closed the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around Pete in a hug. “Thank you for being there, for both of us.”

Pete rubbed a hand over your laced-up back, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Come on, they’re ready for the first look.” 

You followed Pete down the steps, and out to the small garden behind the church, where you would get a first look at your soon-to-be husband.  --- Bradley was antsy, and he almost spun around when he heard the soft click of heels on the stone beneath him. “Hi.”

“Hi, B.” You whispered, tears springing to your eyes. “Ready to become my husband?” You whispered, afraid speaking at full volume would ruin this special moment.

“I’ve been ready ever since I laid eyes on you.” Bradley replied, squeezing your hand behind him. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, eyes watering. “Never thought I’d be okay with my groom wearing white, too.”

Bradley let out a watery laugh. “Everyday is full of surprises.”

“Okay, okay. Before I burst into tears and ruin my makeup, we need to get ready for the ceremony.” You squeezed Bradley’s hand once more, before he heard the sound of your heels retreating. --- The music slowed down considerably after your sister reached the end of the aisle, taking her spot next to Amelia. 

You took a deep breath, looking up at Pete as appeared next to your side. 

When you first asked Pete to walk you down the aisle, he was speechless. He wasn’t one to think of himself as a father figure, not after he pulled Bradley’s papers, but he was proven wrong when you stopped him after you met up with the aviators at The Hard Deck one night. 

“You promise you won’t let me trip?” You asked, wrapping your hand around Pete’s arm.

“So long as you promise you won’t trip me.” Pete replied, stepping up as the opening notes to Canon in D began. 

You started the procession down the aisle, smiling at your family, your friends, and Bradley’s family as you walked, but they all blurred as you made eye contact with Bradley. Your Bradley.

Before you knew it, you were across from him, navy whites making his tanned skin pop. 

“Hi.” You whispered, smile tugging at your lips. 

“Hi.” Bradley replied, smile already spread across his face.  --- You heard hollering and hooting from both the groomsmen and audience as you kissed your husband for the first time, his shiny new wedding band cold against your back.

“We’re married!” You mumbled along Bradley’s lips, kissing him once more.

Bradley laughed, pressing one last kiss to your lips before you two turned to walk down the aisle, Bradley raising his newly-adorned wedding band into the air.  --- “Now, I present to your for the first time,” you heard the emcee pause for dramatic effect, and you bounced on your heels next to your husband.

“You ready?” 

“Give it up for the Bradshaws!”

You and Bradley tossed open the doors to the reception hall, smiles bright as you took in everyone here to celebrate your big day. 

You never would have pictured yourself with a military man, surrounded by so many other uniforms and people who you considered a second family. The hollers, cheers, and applause caused tears to spring to your eyes once more, though you doubted it would be the last time. 

The music slowed as you two stopped on the dance floor, facing each other. 

“Remember, men lead with their left because ladies are always right.” You whispered, teasing Bradley with the line your dance instructor said while you two started taking lessons for this moment. 

As you two spun, you smiled at the faces you recognized and the ones you didn’t, rolling your eyes as Jake pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. --- Finally having a moment to yourself, you sipped the white wine in front of your now-finished dinner. The first dances had been a whirlwind of emotions, and the speeches were some of the best. 

“Hey,” Bradley stopped next to you, glass of whiskey in his hand. 

“Hey yourself, Mr. Bradshaw.” You wrapped your arm around his waist, reading over a few of the notes on the Polaroids that guests had taken.

“Finally escape from Emma and Louise?” Bradley asked, teasing you about your younger cousins being stuck to you like glue.

“They got distracted by Jake’s war stories.” You smiled, pointing at a Polaroid of Pete and Penny. “Their turn’s next.” 

Bradley laughed, nodding along with you. “Come on, it’s almost time to cut the cake.” --- You thanked some of the final guests as they departed from the reception hall, promising they’d text you when they made it safely to their hotel.

“Have fun on your honeymoon!” Your aunt Delores squeezed you tight, happy to see you with the man of your dreams.

“But not too much fun!” Delores’ girlfriend teased. 

“Oh, hush!” You felt your cheeks heat, ushering them out to their waiting taxi.

Bradley was finishing off his second slice of cake when you reappeared, grin taking over his face. “Come here.”

Curious, you met Bradley halfway, conveniently stopping on the previously heavily-occupied dance floor. “What’s up, B?”

“Can I have this dance, Mrs. Bradshaw?” 

Not caring to mention the lack of music, you wrapped your arms around your husband’s neck, soft smile on your face. “I love you, Bradley. Thank you. Thank you for making me the happiest woman on the world.”

Bradley smiled, pressing his lips to yours, humming softly as the two of you shared a last dance. --- a/n: send requests pls :( 

[simmingonthelow]

Hi. 3, 7and 29 for Macha.

Hiiiiii!

3. Ask them to describe their love interest. My ETERNITY, My partner in crime, My Doll, My Bestfriend

7. Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words. Me: She's That Bitch.

Macha: "Not the One" (to play with)

29. What recurring dreams do they have? Dreams of her sisters' deaths. One which has already happened and one which is yet to come.

[horseshoegirl]

Set Me Alight - Part 5: I Can't Go On Without You

📜.... I'm sorry... it's getting angsty in here... you guys aren't going to like someone after this...

❗️+18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character (s), Short OFC, Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, Verbal fights, bullying, camping, and pranks.

#4.8 k words

Part 4 | Masterlist | Part 6

Remember that tiny feeling of guilt building in the pit of your stomach? For doing something as simple as switching sugar for salt for Jake's coffee? 

Yeah. It got worse. 

Worse, as in it was eating your stomach alive. Worse, as in, your heart was leaping out of your chest. Worse, as in you wondered what the rest of the group thought about you or if they had caught on, such as Nat and Cora had done.

All because that asshole stayed silent the entire time you were leading the group to the waterfall.

It's not as if he didn't try to approach you - He did, or at least tried to. Every time you saw him coming, you'd either take Nat or Cora by the arm to start a conversation. Or you'd engage Bob in a talk about what artifact or item he was currently working on at the museum. The man loved to talk about his work, and you were all too happy to indulge him, regardless of whether it got you out of a confrontation with Seresin.

I guess you could say it was your guilt that wanted to keep you away from him.

But with the lack of heckling or hollering you've come to suspect from him, you honestly thought he'd at least try to keep up that facade. Hassle you over the map or something to do with the compass. Maybe even cause a fight when it came time to switch to a new trail marker.

You did it to him. You could only assume he'd do it to you. Even with his view at the back of the pack, the same spot you had taken to the past two days, he didn't. He only spoke when he was spoken to.

It was making everything that much worse.

As the group rounded the final bend on the trail, all of you could hear the sound of rushing water. Everyone perked up, seemingly finding a new energy and pace, eager now more than ever to finally see one of the sights that made this place so popular.

The moment the falls came into view, a collective gasp swept through the group.

Despite the clouds above, heavy with the promise of rain, the two twin waterfalls were breathtaking, one higher up than the other lower, both situated on their own angles. The water itself shimmered, cascading down the rocky cliffside into the pool below into a thousand shades of blue, and the sound was enough to mute the conversations of the other hikers. The surrounding forest was lush and green, making it a scene of pure, unspoiled wilderness.

You wanted to paint this place. The way the water fell over the rocks and how the two falls shone the light—the green in the trees - even the dirt and mud—the fact you couldn't hurt more than you could fathom.

You flexed your hand, the bandage tightening around your wrist. 

If you couldn't experience why you wanted to be here, you'd at least try to find joy in how happy your friends were to be here instead.

Dropping your bags down against a nearby tree after everyone else did the same, like a silent observer, you hung back on the outskirts of the group, trying to find some semblance of joy as everyone had their moment.

Cora, Grace and Nat laughed as they shed their clothing and jumped into the water. Mickey followed soon after, canon balling close enough to the girls so they might get splashed. Bob was trying to spot the fish and the rocks, hoping to find a mineral or two. Bradley merely stood still, watching Nat with loving eyes, and Rueben and Javy took the chance to sit and stretch their legs.

But Jessica and Veronica, in particular, stood out the most. With their faces full of makeup, seemingly more prepared for a photoshoot than a peaceful day at a waterfall. They spent that entire last break applying layer after layer, pluckering their lips with lip gloss into the screens of their phones. They were posed and preened by the water's edge, a view that had a complementary angle to both falls in the background.

Only you would notice the stark contrast between their carefully curated appearances and the natural beauty that surrounded them.

It's not worth something unless someone can get a photo out of it, right?

As you wandered away from your spot, you caught snippets of a video the two were filming. They spoke loud enough to cover the roar of the water, but it also appeared as if the two were trying to rally the attention of the other hikers and campers - as if, by some miracle, whatever they were doing or clearly saying would gather some attention.

They didn't mention names, not that you heard yet, but with the explicit references to 'someone's antics and attitude' at a campsite, you knew it only had to be you. 

"I mean, it's just so petty, right? But I'm the bigger person, and I wouldn't stoop to that level. Moving on and forgetting is better, right?" Jessica explained to her phone.

You rolled your eyes. They thrived on drama and the need for attention. And no matter what story they chose to share, they could have taken shit, disguised it as pecan pie, and people they had ever met before in person would still eat it and call it great. 

 While it hurt on some level, you didn't value their opinion. Never had or will. It's what made you so carefree in levelling their attacks with remarks of your own. 

The sun would still set, and you would still go on about your life long after this trip, without either of them ever having touched one influence of your life, should you have any real control over the matter.

No matter what, people like Jessica and Veronica would always find something to criticize or mock.

And standing here, in a beautiful park, they were on their phones, too wrapped up in their superficial social media world, informing people on the internet about every facet of their lives to experience what life had to offer.

There's more to life than the two-faced nature that is the internet.

Having felt dumb for even watching them, your gaze finally landed on Jake. He was kneeling, staring down at his own reflection in the water, lost to the rest of the world around him.

Why did he try to approach you? Why did he stay quiet? Why did he defend you against Jessica's words? Could you go as far as to say it was guilt-shadowing his usual cocky confidence?

In your mind, Jake was still the quintessential jock, the privileged rich kid with an air of frat-boy arrogance, someone who found amusement in driving you up the wall. 

He didn't deserve your sympathy, nor did he deserve to feel guilty—if indeed he did—because, in your eyes, he had always been the one taking pleasure in causing pain, not the other way around. If guilt was indeed the cause of his actions, a part of you fiercely rejected the idea that he deserved to feel that way. Despite everything, you couldn't reconcile the boy who had once hurt you with the man reflecting on his reflection, showing hints of vulnerability.

Shoving your hand into your pocket, you let out a hiss when something sharp poked your skin. You pulled the object out, looking down into the palm of your hand to see the stowaway fish hook from Jake's bag.

Grace let out a scream as Mickey splashed some water in her direction and Cora's faces. You lifted your head at the sound. You watched them for a few seconds as your hand closed over the piece of metal. That was until your eyes drifted to rather large clumps of algae floating nearby.

Toying with the hook, a horrible, terrible idea began to take shape.

The urge to draw Jake out of his silence, to elicit some sort of reaction from him, became almost irresistible. You wanted to draw him out. You wanted to break through this silence. It wasn't like Jake to be this quiet, and honestly, it irked you more than his usual antics ever could.

He didn't deserve to feel guilty. Not when he didn't back then. 

You just hoped the asshole was afraid of snakes.

The task was slightly more challenging with your bandaged wrist, but you were determined. You scouted the area carefully and soon found what you needed – a flexible, skinny-looking stick. Making sure nobody was looking, you dipped one end into the water, collecting the green stuff before pulling it out, trying to resist the urge to gag.  After racing over to where you had left your bags, you dug through them to find the other object you had taken from Jake's fishing supplies that morning.  

After making sure the close was clear, and with one hand doing most of the work and the other providing clumsy support, you crafted your gathered materials into a makeshift but realistic-looking snake.

The trick was to make it move believably. You hastily attached one end of the fishing wire to the stick, creating a simple rig that would allow the faux snake to slither when tugged. The other end of the wire, now knotted to the fishing hook, was kept ready to be discreetly hooked onto your unsuspecting victim.

By the time you stood up and returned to your observation point, your prank hidden at your side, Veronica and Jessica had roped Jake into taking a group photo. Nat had been called into the fray, now out of the water and dressed, and then suddenly, she was shouting for you, Cora and Grace to join them.

With a casual smile, you approached the group, keenly aware of Jessica's subtle maneuvering with the camera, likely intending to edge you out of the frame. You didn't mind one bit, purposely settling next to Jake. It made for what you were about to do that much easier.

While pretending to adjust your position for the photo, you discreetly reached out with the wire and hook. It caught on to the edge of his sweater, and you let go, your grin widening as the girls counted down.

 Or, so you thought.

Once the photo had been taken and everyone had been satisfied with the result, Veronica stepped forward.

Then, she screamed.

You could only watch as she bolted forward, the fake snake you had rigged for Jake chasing her with each stride. In her panic, she didn't see the edge of the bank leading to the water, and she tumbled in with a loud, heavy splash.

The group erupted in a mix of shocked gasps and then laughter as Veronica finally emerged, wretched head to toe and makeup running down her face.  Even the rest of the tourists couldn't help but laugh, a few wondering a lot loud what happened. 

You watched, horrified she'd catch on to what you did, but you sighed in relief when Javy helped her from the water. The wire had come loose in the fall, effectively freeing you from the immediate blame that was surely meant to follow.

As everyone tried to convince her there wasn't a snake, you shot Cora a glance. Of course, she was already watching you with suspicious eyes, and of course, she had seen what you did, knowing just who exactly that prank was meant for. You could only give her a sheepish shrug, somehow acknowledging the unintended target of your prank.

But were you sorry for how that turned out?

Nope, absolutely not. Not one bit.

Basking in the relief of not being caught, you are blissfully unaware of Nat and her hardening expression, solely directed at you. Her eyes are narrowing with each breath, and her displeasure is evident to any on-looker brave enough to see.

She stepped forward, ready to call you out on your bullshit promise of not trying to pull anything else, when Jake suddenly looped his arm through hers, pulling her away and over to Rueben. 

It is then Bradley suddenly jumps and grabs you by the arm.

Using Veronica and the commotion as a distraction signals Jake and Rueben, who give him a hidden thumbs up in return. When you ask him what's wrong, Bradley only sushs you and pulls you away to a path nearby.

You let him guide you, following it down and then up a slight hill, one that stops at a mid-over look of both of the falls. It's surrounded by lush greenery and trees, and even on an edge, you couldn't see the rest of the tourists below.

It's perfect for what you suspect Bradley is about to do. After all, you and Nat were the ones who purposely picked this spot for him to take a hint and pop the question. And your thought is only confirmed when he lets go of your arm to reach into his pocket and pull out that tiny blue box.

"I'm going to do it," he blurts out, running his hand through his hair. "Right now. Jake and Reuben are leading her here."

You can't help but feel utter joy, smiling so wide your cheeks start to hurt. "Bradley, she's going to be so happy!"

Bradley, however, looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. "I just... I need this to go right, Midge. I can't mess this up," he stammered, his hand trembling slightly as he lowered it down to his side. His eyes shot up to the path, and you could hear Nat's voice laughing at something as she unknowingly approached the two of you.

You took his hand into yours, letting it curve over his grip on the box, offering a reassuring squeeze. "Bradley, you've got this. Just remember to breathe, okay? Nat loves you, and this will be perfect because it's coming from you. Nothing else matters. Not the place, not everyone else. Just the two of you."

He forced himself to take a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting his shoulders sag. When he finally seemed to regain his composure, he offered you a nod. "You're right... I just need to keep it together."

Letting go of his hand, you gave him a gentle pat on the back of his shoulder. "Go get her, you big chicken."

He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, motioning for you to hide. You squealed in delight, running to take cover in a thick, overgrown bush. Natasha emerged from the path, Ruben and Jake trailing close behind and you crouched down in the overly dense bush and hidden from plain sight.

Reaching into your pants to grab your phone, you turned it on. You had been saving your remaining battery life for this, both you and Bradley knowing Nat would want pictures to remember the day, hence why he came and got you.

Once it was booted up, you unlocked it, peering over the bush as Bradley greeted Nat with a hesitant smile. Jake and Rueben side their arms out from where they had been looped against hers and sent her on her way. 

She went willingly, a soft and warm smile on her face as she pressed herself deep into Bradley's chest. As much as he tried to calm himself down, and as much as your words had somewhat helped, nothing could have helped him more than a hug from the person he loved the most. You could see the second the stress, the tension, and the worry seemed to evaporate from his body. He fell into her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

Sliding forward, you held your phone between a gap in the brush. Watching them through the screen, you attempted to use your bad hand to try and zoom in for the right angle, the right depth of the two of them with the waterfalls in the back.

As they shared a soft laugh about something, you felt a surge of affection for the two of them. It was obvious there was no better couple and nobody else in the world better suited for either of them than each other.

All you've ever wanted was to see Nat happy, and in Bradley, she's found that happiness. It's a comforting, reassuring thought that brings a sense of peace to your heart amidst all the utter disaster that was this fucking trip.

"I know it was you who swapped my sugar this morning."

God, Fucking Damnit, Jake!

Titling your head back, there he was in all his fucking glory, standing above you with his hands on his hips like some middle-aged, snarky woman being cut out of line in a grocery store.

You want to scream. Nat and Bradley would merely have to twist back to see him standing there, in plain sight, in the middle of the forest, glaring down at you from behind the bush.

He was either denser than a fucking brick wall or simply decided, in a stroke of questionable judgment, this was the perfect moment to confront you over a petty prank.

"Get the fuck down, you idiot!" you whispered harshly. "They are going to see you!"

Swapping your phone into your injured hand and biting down on your lip as your wrist aches, you find a solid grip on his shirt, yanking him down toward the ground. Jake falls with a severe lack of grace, and you grimace, wondering if Nat or Bradley heard him.

You check through the gap, sighing in relief when you see they are standing with their backs towards the two of you, off admiring the waterfall. But with the relief came the turmoil, and the reality of your current predicament is blatantly obvious.

Jake is kneeling next to you in the dirt, the both of you behind a very small bush, while your best friends are getting engaged just on the other side. He's so close you can feel him breathing down your neck, and his eyes are pinning you down with his stare. Every visible piece of your skin is simply burning from his presence alone.

And the fact you can't leave. Neither can he. Not until Bradley has gotten down on one knee and Nat has answered that famous question with nothing but a joyful, happy yes.

"You've been avoiding me all day."

You could only roll your eyes and snort. "You don't say? I can only wonder why."

As you're unlocking your phone again and placing your phone back inside the bush, Jake leans forward to mummer in your ear. "I know that 'snake' on the fishing wire trick was supposed to be for me, too. You did a shit job of covering up your robbery heist."

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Jake trace his fingers over the palm of his other hand. Had you looked, you would have seen faint, red scratch marks marring his skin. 

You can't help but snicker at the memory of Veronica falling into the water and of her climbing out, looking like a drenched raccoon. "Can't say I'm disappointed it didn't happen to you."

News flash - You're not.

"Good to know I'm not the only one on your hit list."

"You are the list, asshole," you grumble under your breath.

Thinking he'd have some common sense and leave it at that, you lean forward, observing through your screen as Bradley discreetly reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out the box.

It's a stupidly optimistic thought.

"Can you just talk to me for once in your life?"

He never learns when to shut his trap, does he?

"Can you just shut up for two seconds?" you snap, not taking your eyes off your phone. "Bradley's purposing!"

"I'm sorry, Midge, Okay? I'm sorry for the bear trick. It wasn't supposed to go like that. I'm sorry you hurt your wrist. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

You shake your head. "Jake! Shut the fuck up!"

He frowned. "Why won't you let me apologize?!"

"Turn your fucking head and look Jackass." You gesture with your bandaged hand. "This isn't the time!"

He shifts in the dirt, drawing closer to you. "When is the time? Cause you've been running from me since we set out this morning. Actually, the entire trip so far."

"We're hiding in a bush, watching our two best friends get engaged. Of course, it's not the right fucking time!" you rush out in a single whispered breath.

"They are over there and can't hear us... I just need you to hear me out, Midge. I didn't mean for any of this to—"

"Seriously, Jake?" you hiss, finally taking your eyes off your phone as your patience wears thin. "Now is not the time."

But Jake is too caught up in his own need to clear the air to stop. And his voice grows louder despite the need for the utmost discretion.

"I just want to fix this, Midge! I hate that we're like this. I've always hated this! This thing we have going on, and I have no idea why!"

You couldn't help it when your voice suddenly boomed out, "You don't know why? Really? Let's start with that fucking mouth of yours!"

"Seriously?! You two couldn't can it for one fucking minute for this?!"

You slammed your eyes shut, wincing hard.

Fuck.

Nat's voice cut sharply through the air, her words laced with anger. "Get the fucking hell out here, the two of you! Now!"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Reluctantly, Jake and you unfolded from your crouched positions. Your movements were hesitant as you both stepped out from the relative safety of the bush to face the weight of Nat's furious gaze.

Standing tall and with her shoulders squared, Nat was the epitome of fury. Her eyes could have melted steel, and each breath she took was measured, controlled, and laced with the increasing difficulty of maintaining her composure. She had yet to speak another word, but you knew.

She was barely holding it together, holding off the inevitable bomb that had been building up since she pulled you aside this morning.

But the worst thing you could have seen in this very moment? Bradley, still frozen mid-kneel, the expression on his face equal parts a mix of shock and heartbreak. And in his hand, grasped between two fingers, is Nat's ring - the one you helped to pick out.

You half expected him to shoot you a hateful glare, but he was only staring at Jake, coming to a stand and placing Nat's ring safely back within its box.

"What's so fucking wrong with the two of you?!"

You drew in a sharp, shaky breath. Nat continued to yell, first setting her wrath onto Jake as he let out an awkward cough.

"Jake, don't think you're innocent in all this!" she snapped. "Always egging her on, playing these stupid games. It's like you're both in some twisted competition to see who can be the most infuriating."

Her eyes bore into him, Jake obviously scared of her. She took a step forward and pointed to the ground. Bradley swung his arm out in front of her in fear she was on the verge of violence.

You were grateful. Nat would be capable of murder at this point.

"You could've been the bigger person, walked away, but no, you just had to keep it going. It's like you enjoy this drama. Well, congratulations, it's ruined a moment that was supposed to be about Bradley and me, not your petty feud!"

Jake ducked his head like a child getting scolded by a parent, his Adam's apple bobbing with his harsh swallow.

"And you!" she spun, now pointing her finger at you. You reeled back, scared at her snarl and the sheer rage she was projecting onto you, something you've never been on the receiving end of since you met her.

"I don't know what stick he's metaphorically shoved up your ass, Midge," she mocks your nickname in a deliberate tone, "but you need to get the fuck over it. How long has it been?!"

Your heart snaps. You are pretty sure it's been shattered, too.

"It's like one day you just woke up and decided he wasn't worthy of your attention! That he was too good for you!" Nat spins in frustration, running her fingers through the roots of her hair before she's back to unleashing her wrath onto you.

"Do you know we can't have proper get-togethers without the two of you causing some sort of scene?" she shrieks. "Here we were thinking that maybe, just maybe, forcing the two of you together for once in your life would get you to be fucking nice to him? Maybe they can communicate and figure their shit out. Maybe she won't run away every single time she fucking sees him."

"Nat..." Bradley tries to reason, turning to face her and trying to place his hand on her hip. She slaps his hand away, too far gone to care.

You know what, I was wrong! I was fucking wrong!” She threw her hands up in the air, letting them slap hard against her thighs as she let them fall. “You just can get your head out of your ass to realize this isn’t about you and your feelings and some selfish vendetta. It’s downright selfish, Midge!”

This is the reason why you've never told Nat - told any of them. Because what Jake said that faithful night is smacking you back in the face. Not that they didn't ever ask about it - they did - but because nobody would truly understand it.

They'd tell you it wasn't true. To not judge him for something he said in his youth. To grow up. To get over it. To give him a second chance or deep down, he secretly had a crush on you - as fucking if.

Or worse... Someone would confirm it.

Nat is confirming it. And for the four years you've been fighting against Jake, against the words he uttered to that girl in the bathroom of your college apartment, they meant nothing in this very moment.

The idea, Jake, was right after all struck like a blow to your chest, the weight, the force, sucking all the air from your lungs and replacing it with a heavy, undeniable truth.

"Having the both of you on this trip was a mistake," she mumbled angrily under her breath, shaking her head. With a swift, frustrated turn, she stormed off, each step pounding hard on the dirt trail.

You could no longer fight it. Tears overwhelmed the corners of your eyes, and you let them fall after years of running, finally allowing Jake the privilege of seeing the damage he caused and the death glare he damn well deserved.

"None of this," you seethed, pointing to Nat's retreating form, "would have happened had you not shut up the first time I told you to, Seresin."

Jake was visibly stunned, the shock in his eyes clear. "You can't honestly believe I wanted this to happen?!"

"You'd be pleased anyway it went regardless," You seeth. It's nothing but pure venom spilling from your lips, and Jake even finds himself taking a step back at the pure anger you're aiming toward him, only matched by Nat's previous rage.

You retreated towards a nearby tree, wiping the tears from your eyes as you laid your forehead against the bark, taking long, deep breaths. With sad eyes, Jake watched you go until there was shuffling in the dirt, and he spun, intercepting Bradley with an outstretched arm.

"Bradley... I didn't..."

"Just save it, man," Bradley replied dejectedly, slapping his arm out of the way as he dodged past. "There's nothing you could say that would make this better than what it already is."

He took off after Nat, his hand tightly clasped around the tiny blue box, and Jake couldn't do anything but grow roots into the ground, wondering how things went so incredibly wrong so incredibly fast.

Bradley had been coaching him on how to approach you. He thought last night, before those two showed up, there had been some progress. But now, standing amidst the aftermath of a failed proposal, Jake felt more lost than ever.

He knew he shouldn't have approached you while Bradley was down on one knee. The guilt he felt, even knowing how nervous he was about fucking it up, was incomparable. But you... you rebuffed him. Every single time he tried to approach you, you played the same damn game, and he felt like he was left without any other choice.

He just wanted to apologize to you before things got worse. Worse than you falling and hurting yourself because he couldn't man up and ask Jessica and Veronica to leave him alone.

There you were, crouching behind that bush, and he had the overwhelming urge to ask. And to say sorry that you had been hurt when he never intended for that in the first place. He just wanted to know why. Why did you so desperately hate him? Why, with every word, do you find fault with everything he did or would do?

But when Jake turned around to ask, you were already long gone, and he was left with nothing but the remnants of a failed proposal, Natasha's disappointment in the two of you, and the lasting impact of your anger.

Long may he rejoice in his ever-lasting ability to fuck things up further, especially when it came to you.  

So... who do we hate? Let me know 😅 (Not the writer, please not the writer)

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Part 6 - Running up that hill - In progress

[sunlightmurdock]

In Too Deep | Six | Jake Seresin x mom!reader

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Synopsis: Jake Seresin had sworn he was never going to be a father. He liked his life the way that it was, child-free, stress free and chaos free. Free being the key word. After falling for you, it becomes clear that Jake is in for an attitude adjustment, whether he likes it or not.

Warnings: no smut, maybe allusions to sex at various points, swearing, fluff and teeny bits of angst if you squint, Jake and Riley prepare to bond over their bad dad issues 🫶🏼

…

“Have a good day today!” Jake calls.

The car door swings shut behind the perpetually angry little girl and Jake sighs. He pulls the car away from the drop off zone and glances back to check that she got in okay. He hadn’t mentioned any of this when he called you last night. Only the good parts. Like Jax speaking more, playing at the park, finding the worm. Calling him dad for the first time.

He glances back at the little boy through the rear view mirror. He’s big enough now to not be rear facing, and grins at Jake as their eyes meet.

“Park?” He asks, tilting his head slightly like an excited puppy. Jake’s lips quirk softly, it’s hard not to smile when Jax gives him that huge smile.

“We’re gonna go see Uncle Rue first, but we can go to the park later.” He explains to him as the car pulls out onto the road. School drop off has always been a point of contention between you and Riley, so today is nothing different, your kid just isn’t a morning person.

But, she has barely said a word since her dad dropped her off yesterday and Jake’s not sure where he stands. The line between being negligent and nosy seems blurred when it’s a kid like Riley.

He can’t stop thinking about her attitude towards him. You’ll never agree to a future with him if it jeopardizes a relationship with one of your children, and he wouldn’t want you to. But god, he wants a future with you. More than anything, actually. Sleeping in your bed, spending time with your children — Jake feels closer to you as these past four weeks draw to a close than he ever has before.

He dreamt last night about what it would be like to marry you. Jax was a little older in the dream, and he was the ring bearer. He was beaming, and you were overjoyed at the sight of your little boy in a suit.

Riley, a foreboding and absent presence in his dream. Something missing from the perfect day that weighed in like a big grey cloud. He would want her there in real life, but he would want her to be happy to be there. Jake knows that if he proposed to you now, Riley’d be furious.

Plus, the two of you haven’t even been together a year yet, he’s not sure how you would take all of this future talk. If, a year ago, you had told him that he’d be driving your kid to school and thinking about marriage — he would’ve laughed in your face.

Jax balanced against his side and a backpack slung over his other shoulder, Jake’s juggling keys, a toddler and a water bottle in his hands as he lets the door swing shut behind him. Payback’s brows raise just slightly as he sets his coffee down on the coaster and leans back against the leather armchair that he’s situated in.

Rueben can’t pretend not to be taken aback at how quickly Jake seems to have mastered the daddy-daycare act. But then, given that this is the same man who taught himself piano in under a week just to spite Rooster, Rueben should’ve known better than to second guess Jake. He has always made everything look easy.

“Look at you,” Rueben teases, leaning forwards and smiling as Jake hands him the wriggling toddler. He sets JJ down on his knee and coos a hello towards him as Jake offloads everything that he’s holding and huffs out. “You’re a natural.”

“Doesn’t feel that way.” Jake mumbles tiredly as he sinks into the armchair opposite his friend. He smooths a hand over his forehead and tries to relax, stretching his legs out.

Rueben cocks an eyebrow at him and catches Jax’s hand seconds before it has time to dip into his still hot coffee. “Trouble in paradise, buddy?”

“Daddy.” Jax points at Jake and turns his head to look at Rueben. He points again to make his point clear. Jake stares across at the little boy and sighs softly.

“Well, that’s new.” Payback comments, brows raised. He glances between Jake and the toddler, then sets Jax on the ground so that he can stretch his legs.

“I don’t know what to do, I mean — they’ve already got a dad, and he’s gonna be pissed if he finds out that his kid is calling me daddy — but he’s never around!” Jake goes into defensive mode right away. Payback just sits there and watches, keeping one eye focused on the toddler as his friend rambles and rants in front of him.

With two daughters and a wife who is infinitely more intelligent than him, Payback has been a good listener for a long time. He just sits back and lets Jake go for as long as he needs, nodding his head as he tries to keep up with the pace of the panicked speech.

Jake finally stops with a slow inhale. He glances down towards Jax and takes note of the confusion on the toddler’s chubby features, then starts to wonder if he was even making any sense at all.

“Where’d Hangman go?” Payback taunts, giving a soft shake of his head. He looks Jake over like he’s really looking for the guy he used to know.

Unimpressed, Jake rubs tiredly at his temple. “Huh?”

“I mean Hangman’s worried about who he’s going home with tomorrow night and how much protein is in his lunch. I don’t know who this guy is, but Hangman would hate him.” Rueben’s just teasing, he’s smiling at Jake and it’s just a comment. He doesn’t mean anything by it. Jake glances down to the kid in front of him and then at the ground.

“Tell me about it.” Jake mumbles.

Payback scrunches his brows slightly, “Alright, man. What’s going on? — You’re weirding me out with all of this doom and gloom.”

Jake takes a quick look around him. It’s a Wednesday morning, right after the school run. There are plenty of toddlers in here, and adults having chats. It’s just that Jake and Payback are the only ones here that are men. Jake wouldn’t have been caught dead here when he was Hangman.

As much as the callsign was made to taunt him, Jake grew into it. He became Hangman. Confident, suave, independent. If he’s not that, he’s not too sure who he is.

“You’re right,” Jake’s shrug is cold and unattached. He won’t look at Jax as he speaks. Rueben stares right ahead at his friend. “This whole thing. You’re right, it’s just not me.”

There’s a long pause. As much as he wants to check on Payback’s reaction, Jake can’t bring himself to lift his gaze from the polished tile under his shoe for fear of meeting Jax’s gaze. There’s no way he can look into those big, round eyes and admit that he’s quite simply not enough.

The coffee shop chatter carries on around them. Jax carries on between them, toying around with the action figure that he has been clutching all morning. He crashes it into Payback’s knee and makes an explosion sound. Rueben smooths a hand tenderly over the little boy’s back.

“Jake.” His tone is dead serious now, and quiet. It’s his dad voice. Jake recognises it. He’s seen Payback gently scolding his kid enough times to know that that’s what is happening now. Rueben sits forward slightly and covers Jax’s ears with his hands. “You say that shit to me again and we’re going to have a problem.”

Jake looks up and frowns at him. “What?”

“You don’t get to quit because you’re freaked out. You do that to these kids and I swear to god, I’ll never talk to you again.” Payback swears, still covering the toddler’s ears. Jax doesn’t even seem to mind, playing calmly with his action figure and kicking his legs.

Jake adjusts the cap on his head and checks around him again. He’s fidgety and agitated, chewing at the inside of his cheek. “You don’t get it.”

“I don’t? — You think that I don’t get scared shitless like three times a week that I’m not good enough for my kids? — I’m terrified of screwing them up, but I’m here, and I’m doing what I can.”

“It’s complicated. They’re not,” Jake pauses to glance down as Jax wriggles around in Rueben’s lap, struggling to try to get down. “They aren’t mine.”

Knowing better than to fight against a toddler that has already made up their mind, Rueben moves to that Jax can get down. Right away, Jax brushes past him and heads for Jake. He stands between Jake’s legs and leans into his thigh, holding up his action figure for Jake to see.

“Daddy, look.”

Jake smiles softly and scrunches his nose just the slightest bit. Jax grins at the attention and presents the action figure closer to Jake, almost swinging it into his chin. The toddler seems to remind himself to be more gentle as he leans in against Jake’s chest. Jake squeezes at his sides, making the toddler squeal and squirm in front of him. He lifts him up and sets him down on his knee.

Rueben stares across at Jake.

“It’s complicated.” Jake insists as he smooths a hand over Jax’s wild hair to tame it. Jax taps Jake’s arm to make sure that he’s watching and flies his action figure around in front of them.

“Not to me,” His tone is gentler this time, he’s relaxed as he watches Jake and the kid together. They look so natural together. Payback motions and Jake covers Jax’s ears without question, gently kissing the curls on top of his head. “He doesn’t know who his dad is and who isn’t. He knows who’s there for him.”

“Yeah, well Riley knows and she hates me.” Jake answers back. JJ squints across at Payback, seemingly aware of the fact that they’re discussing something that they don’t want him to hear. He quickly goes back to playing with his toy.

“That’s what kids do — look, Jake, I can sit here and tell you about how much kids are going to break your heart, but,” He stops to sigh, smoothing a hand over his facial hair. He glances quickly between Jake and the oblivious kid sitting on his leg. “If you’re going to leave, man, just go ahead and do it.”

Jake’s brows scrunch together just slightly.

“But you don’t get to come back.” Payback explains calmly. He looks at Jake, deadly serious. “You leave those kids and you’re gone for good. Are you good with never seeing him again?”

Jake takes his hands away from Jax’s ears and squeezes his sides softly. The toddler turns and squeals excitedly, grinning up at Jake. It’s scary, sure. But it’s scarier to imagine not seeing this face every day, that cute little smile and hearing those excited giggles.

And god, he’s never loved anyone like he loves you. These past three weeks have been hell without you, he has been counting down the days until you’re back with him again. Never seeing you again isn’t even something that he had considered. His crisis of faith is cut short as his phone rings loud in his pocket.

He slips it from his jeans and takes the call, pinning the phone between his ear and shoulder as he keeps Jax steady in his lap. “Hello?”

“Hello, is this Riley’s stepfather?”

Luckily, with the day off, Payback was more than happy to take Jax for a while. Jake quickly yanks his cap off of his head and tugs his fingers through his hair, swallowing the lump in his throat as he steps through the doors of the school. Riley’s sitting on a chair outside of the principal’s office, scowling at the floor with her arms across her chest.

The principal is crouched in front of her, trying to talk to her calmly. Riley’s silent, staring at a dirt smudge of the floor.

“Riley?”

The principal stands and turns, extending an open palm towards Jake swiftly. “Ah. Mr. Seresin. A quick word in my office, please?”

It’s clear immediately that Jake has never done this before. He doesn’t bother taking a seat, even when Mr. Anderson settles behind his desk and motions for Jake to do so. He swallows nervously and asks if Riley is okay.

The principal watches Jake’s reaction calmly as he explains what happened. Disbelief comes first, it crosses his face clearly but his Navy career has taught him better than to voice his disagreement out loud.

There just is no way that Riley would have cursed at a teacher. Jake is sure of it. He’s sure of it because he is pretty confident that if Riley knew any curse words, she would have already directed a few of them at him.

She has always been a delight in school — you were always bragging about how great she was doing in her classes.

Jake pinches the bridge of his nose as the principal explains further. Great, so not only is he annoying Riley with his mere existence, but he’s screwing up her future now too.

“We aren’t going to suspend her.”

Jake sighs in relief and leans his head back.

“Y’know, this is the first time that it has happened and we’re confident that it won’t happen again. But, um, Mr. Seresin— I really hope that you don’t think I’m overstepping here, but,” He pushes his round glasses up the bridge of his nose as he stands. Jake gets the feeling that he won’t like what’s coming next. “I’m not sure that you’re really qualified to get Riley through this time in her life. Maybe you could talk to her mother and—“

All semblance of being calm and composed flies out the window as Jake cocks his head at the geeky looking brunette behind the desk. The principal swallows softly and stops talking.

“I’ve got it. Thanks.” Jake bites.

Long day after fucking long day. Only seven more of them until you’re home and he’s no longer outnumbered. He lets the door to the office slam behind him as he steps back out into the reception. “Put your coat on, let’s go.”

“Not cold.” Riley argues, slinging it over her arm and grabbing her backpack. She walks for the door before she even has it over her shoulder. Jake turns to follow her but stops as he catches sight of a familiar face. There’s a blonde walking along the hall with a lanyard around her neck saying substitute.

It takes him a couple of seconds, standing there and trying to place where he knows her from. Then it clicks. The smiling face leaning over Alex’s shoulder the other day. His lips part as he looks back towards Riley.

“Oh, shit, Riley.”

…

We

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@frenchtoastix

@wildxwidow

@vienna

@hopeless-romanticnamed-s

@indynerdgirl

@marantha

@jostyriggslover96

@percysaidnever

@coldmuffinbanditshoe

@diamond-3

@galaxy-moon

[number1rizgukgakstan]

FANTASY HIGH JUNIOR YEAR FINALE PART 2 LIVEBLOG: SPOILERS AHEAD

ITS GAME TIME BABY! :D I'm so ready for this. LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOO

Spoilers Under The Cut!

GOD their outfits are so fucking cool. I love their bullying of Brennan. it's so great I love it. I CANT BELIEVE THEY DIDNT TELL HIM thats so funny.

"I spent 217 dollars at Hot Topic" Real for that Siobhan.

I would have KILLED for Brennan in Emo Kid Clothes but alas. Some other time.

FABIAN'S ABOUT TO DO THE COOLEST FUCKING THING :DDD

MIRRORS??? MIRRORS?? ROMAENCE PARTNER APPEARANCE MAYBE??? MAYBE??? MAYBE??? It'd be so funny

That dice span for SO FUCKING LONG oh my god. The dice are FEELING IT today.

Fabian pushing Jace into the lava is maybe the funniest use of Brennan's own fucking encounter design against him. I love it.

18 D10???? EIGHTEEN??? INSANE.

"I served Rueben up a plate of redemption arc and he fucking cast a ninth level spell on it" is great.

"AHHH I SHOULD HAVE STUDIED A LITTLE BIT" beautiful final words for the duplicate

Ohhhh Jace is being HIVE-MINDED. He's just a minion. Damn.

WAIT. SO ONCE THE RAGESTARS ARE GONE, THEY COULD PROBABLY BE SAVED RIGHT??? Ratgrinders might get to go away, maybe?

Oh god if Kristen gets rage-starred they're seriously fucked,,, thank god it didn't happen.

MAZEY NOOOOOOOO.

"I mean I don't Hate it" NOT THE TIME FABIAN

They're already two people down [sobs]

OH MY GOD PORTER REALLY FUCKING HATES GORGUG HOLY SHIT. He's so fucking scary actually.

Oh god I'm so worried ANKARNA NOOOOOO

RIZ'S FUCKING PLAN IS INSANE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. Murph the GENIUS YOU ARE. The fact that it did ONE HUNDRED AND SIX DAMAGE is absurd.

"VERY GOOD ON PAPER BUT NO PRACTICAL APPLICATION" OUCH!

SHE'S NOT EVEN RAGE-STARRED??? SHE WAS DOING THIS WILLINGLY?? HOLY SHIT MOST COMPELLING VILLAIN EVER. SHE REALLY IS JUST THAT FULL OF HATE. #1 HATER. I LOVE IT.

Mary-Ann CHOOSING to take the damage is absurd. We stan a dedicated queen.

Oh god three people down is worrying. I'm sure they'll pull through.

ANOTHER CLUTCH SCATTER FROM ADAINE!

God, Brennan's homebrew spell coming back to bite him is SO funny.

GET FUCKED JACE YOU LITTLE BITCH!

ARTHUR AGUEFORT'S CONTINGENCY MEASURE IS SO FUNNY.

Killing KLCK fucking over Jace and Porter is incredibly funny. Turns out Rage does not make for Good Planning.

LOWEST INT BITCHES AS YOUR LEADERS IS SO FUNNY

"I really can't I tried" GOD jace is such a stupid fucking sorcerer I love him.

Jace failing to Bigby's Hand Adaine into the lava and then fighting with Porter is amazing. Peak. ANOTHER CLUTCH NAT 20 FOR GORGUG! The gym really is pulling things off for them.

"He just rolled a 4" in the most defeated voice ever is so fucking funny. This is what happens when half your villain party has shitty strength.

"eat this gizard and get the fuck up" God I love Brennan's random ass magic items. It's great.

"You might still be trapped in a Burning Elmville with a raging giant" So an average Tuesday in Solace?

Honoring the Cock and Getting a Nat 1- the Dimension 20 Way

Fig's tricky little Shatter is my favorite tactic in her toolbox. And her getting 40 damage of shatter is ABSURD, even if her rolling them one by one is nerve-wracking.

SIXTY-NINE FIRE DAMAGE :D

SO IF BUDDY COMES BACK HE JUST FUCKING DROPS STRAIGHT INTO THE LAVA??

BAKUR BABY!!!!!!! LET'S HOPE HE'S NOT EVIL!

He doesn't have his own mini so he's basically just That Guy

Bakur might choose to join either side so let's see :eyes eyes eyes:

GOD I love Fabian and his clutch rolls. BAKUR and ALLIES!

SQUEEEEEEEM!!! FUCK YEAH!! SQUEEM! AND HE BROUGHT THE CORTADOS. BALTHAZAR'S BACK!!!!! HOLY SHIT??? I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT YOU BUT I LOVE YOU!

YOU GOT YOUR HEALS! GET A CORTADO AND JOIN THE PARTY SQUEEEEM!

Mary-Anne rolling a nat 1 is so funny i'm losing it. Clutch ass cutting words. The Hangman is winning!

Fabian and Mazey are SO cute. They deserve the fucking world. ITS ALL LOVE NOW!!!!

The value of protective anger,,,, the strength of love and light and the desire to combat those who would hurt the ones you love,,, Brennan Lee Mulligan you are a genius

ANOTHER K2 BLIMEY NAT 20??? THE DICE ARE THE REAL HEROES OF THIS STORY. It's fucking. It's so fucking funny. I'm literally crying.

Zac in the DM's seat again is making me laugh so hard.

Brennan actually packing up behind them is so funny. He's really committed to the bit.

"She's about to become a normal person" this is actually tragic when you think about it. Luckily, K2 is in a comedy show, so it's going to be funny instead.

"This spell is MEANT to be comedic" yeah it's literally a fucking snowman.

OH MY GOD. CASSANDRA MADE K2 A REAL PERSON???? HOLY SHIT THIS IS SOME PINOCCHIO LEVEL BULLSHIT IM ECSTATIC. OR LIKE, FROSTY THE SNOWMAN???

"Unsleeping City K2???" I WANT THIS

K2 is now a human cleric and she's fucking real. Holy shit she's fucking real.

GOD THE MOMENT WITH CASSANDRA AND BAKUR IS SO FUCKING COOL.

BALTHAZAR GOT FUCKING DISINTEGRATED [sobs] GOODBYE SWEET MAN WHO NEVER DOES ANYTHING. THE MOST CRINGEFAIL MAN EVER

Oh god the Bad Kids are fucking down again :sobs:

"We're just collecting Barbarians" I love that <3 Barbarians Only

Mazey is definitely an honorary bad kid <3 Epic crits and clutch heals for all!

Fabian and Gorgug have gone down SO MUCH. It's incredible how they keep fucking pulling themselves back up. They are truly living on the edge.

We're halfway through the episode and I am very excited and also a little nervous.

OH THANK GOD SANDRA LYNN'S FINE! :D It's also nice to see Lydia and Ragh! :D

I love how Fig immediately calls back to her mom to help. They're the family ever.

GOD Jawbone's full mini is so fucking cool.

BRENNAN YOU CAD WHERE'S AYDA???????

"All I have to do is be dead and I can roll anything" should be printed on a dice holder FOR SURE

THE FUCKING AGENT IS HERE??? IM LOSING IT

BAXTER IS FIGHTING PORTER??? OH MY GOD

Lydia's wheelchair sliding is actually so fun. I love Brennan taking into account wheelchair physics for his combat. It's always nice to see.

GORGUG HAS A FUCKING FLASHBANG?????? ONCE AGAIN GORGUG'S ABILITIES COME IN CLUTCH.

"is this Justice? Is this a New Dawn?" GOES SO FUCKING HARD???? ADAINE YOU ARE THE COOLEST

BAKUR BACK TO HIS HIGH ELF SELF!!!!

EVERYONE'S GETTING A DIVINE INTERVENTION????? HOLY SHIT.

HOLY SHIT FABIAN DID IT???? FUCK THATS SO COOL. FABIAN, A PROTECTOR, ALONGSIDE ADAINE. THEY ARE THE BEST FRIENDS!

Mazey and Fabian are so sweet. I want them to be in love forever do you hear me???? YOU HEAR ME???

"All the ways you've protected people is what makes you cool" GOD MAZEY GETS IT. FABIAN HAS SO MUCH LOVE TO GIVE.

Ankarna, sitting in the bottomless pit; THAT BOY DESERVES TO BE WITH HIS FUCKING GIRLFRIEND. LET ME RISE UP!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHH ANKARNA LIVES. SHE FUCKING SLAYS!!! SHE SLAYYYYYYYYYS

Jace getting fucking arrested is the funniest ending for a villain in this show. ITS NOT EVEN THE REAL JACE.

"I WAS HILDA HILDA THE WHOLE TIME!" EMILY THE COMEDIAN THAT YOU ARE!

God this battle was so cool it really did a lot for the Bad Kids as characters.

All of the scenes in the ether were SO GOOD. They really show how strong they've grown, and the strengths of their heart. Their desire to look ahead is built into them, and I love it.

"rebellion without a new dawn to look forward to is just cynical"

"where's the fucking cat" KRISTEN YOU'RE SO FUCKING FUNNY

SQUEEM AND BALTHAZAR HUNTING KALINA IS GREAT

"bring back everyone but Kipperlilly"

"No, just Mary-Ann"

The Bad Kids are great, Funniest people ever, 10/10

"Juicy God Gossip" is such a funny line. Another t-shirt I want.

GOD DAMN IT ARTHUR AGUEFORT WHY ARE YOU JUST NOW SHOWING UP

FORGIVEN, HE BROUGHT AYDA BACK, WE ARE WELL. God their reunion was perfect it was so sweet. And Adaine and Ayda also had a really good moment.

Arthur Aguefort is the single funniest character Brennan has ever written.

Kristen Applebees is going to be the president! HOLY SHIT!

YOLANDA AND LUCY ARE BACK!!!! I LOVE THEM!!!

RATGRINDERS REDEMPTION ARC!!! So they were ALL just possessed. This is a good ending.

Oisin and Ivy should hopefully have a terrible senior year :3

Mary-Ann is so funny and earnest and sweet and I seriously love her. I hope she has a wonderful senior year and nothing bad ever happens to her ever again. ENEMIES TO LOVERS GORGUG AND MARY-ANN WAS NOT ON MY BINGO CARD

Is Gorgug's type just barbarians who can kill him????

GOD all of them are so fucking funny.

Kristen as a Pantheon Type Cleric makes SO MUCH SENSE!!!

Riz switching to tea and embracing change is beautiful. He's so fucking strong. "whatever you choose to do, you're going to be good at it" I love his relationship with his mom so much.

Adaine's mom is being a little bastard in the Nightmare Forest? That's going to be fun to follow up on if they ever do.

"i'd take them to get you" made me SOB. They're THE SISTERS EVER.

"we know what its for, we don't have to talk about it, it wasn't great" IS SO FUCKING FUNNY. Realest teenager moment ever.

HIS MOM SHOWS UP??? CRYING LAUGHING

HOLY SHIT FABIAN'S GRANDAD IS BACK!!

FABIAN's MOM IS ACTUALLY PREGNANT [screaming] THATS SO FUNNY

HIS INFANT SIBLING IS LITERALLY THE NEWEST NEMESIS IM CRYING

"Do you ever talk to Jawbone about any of this?" Mazey's gonna learn her new boyfriend has NO CHILL.

FOUR GOD PANTHEON???? That's going to be SO FUN!!!

Tracker and her girlfriend broke up I'm losing it.

GERTIE DECLARED KRISTEN HER NEMESIS I'm SCREAMING thats so funny. I mean it was intensely funny. It is a bit fucked up she led Gertie on, but that's teenagers for you.

GORGUG AND FIG ARE SO SWEET I'M SOBBING. GORGUG'S GIFTS ARE ADORABLE. THEY ARE THE BEST FRIENDS EVER.

The Thistlesprings are the Most Adoring Parents Ever I love them so much. PROFESSOR THISTLESPRING ARC???? I REALLY HOPE THAT HAPPENS.

"maybe next year i'll be the bad guy?" ARTHUR AGUEFORT I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD.

AYDA AND FIG MOMENT. I LOVE HOW INTENSE AYDA IS. THE GIRLFRIENDS EVER.

Oh my god the Complicated Women Podcast I'm screaming. I love how Sandra Lynn talks about it.

Fig's going to be SUCH a good big sister. Hopefully Fig can help Fabian handle things.

GOD the Hunter's Mark from Sandra Lynn to make sure she can always find her daughter is so sweet. They're the cutest ever.

"Maybe she can just trust that they'll be friends outside of school" GOD I LOVE THAT. Fig is THE BARD EVER.

THE AUTOMATONS HUNTING FIG IS SO FUNNY.

Ayda connected the Bottomless Pit with Leviathin and I'm just sobbing. Her point about learning was so strong and brilliant I love it.

"it's hot tub time!" - GOD THATS SO FUNNY

OH MY GOD BAKARATH IS REAL???? AND KALINA???? THATS SO FUCKING FUNNY. IS BAKARATH GOING TO BE THE FINAL BOSS OF A FUTURE SEASON???

That ending was amazing and I had such a good time. It's bittersweet, but I'm happy I was here. GO BAD KIDS!!

[tgmsunmontue]

More than movie magic... 13/24

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN

ELEVEN TWELVE

THIRTEEN

                Jake drags his mom away, silently mouthing I am so sorry over his shoulder in the vain hope that Bradley won’t hold his insane family against him.

                “Mom!” He hisses under his breath. “You said you’d give me until Saturday!”

                “Honey, that boy, sorry, man, is besotted with you. Can’t take his eyes off you. And you clearly already let him know you’re interested what with the,” she waves a hand in the general direction of his face and he knows his blushing again, but it’s spilling over into annoyance.

                “I don’t need you to arrange my life for me.”

                “I know that. That’s what you pay Karina for, and she does a very good job. However she’s not as invested in your happiness as I am.”

                Oh. That immediately stops his annoyance from spilling over, stops it from spiking into anger and he feels the tension drop out of his body almost immediately.

                “Hmm. I know you Jake. I’m just trying to get to know Bradley as well. Think he could be good for you…”

                “Not if you scare him away first…” Jake mutters under his breath.

                “Honey, if a little teasing scares him away then he’s not meant for you.”

                “Yeah. Yeah okay.”

                “Ask him to dinner. I’m sure your father would like to clean his shotgun in front of him.”

                “Mom!”

                She cackles with laughter and Jake has to remind himself that she loves him. Yes she takes immense pleasure in embarrassing the fuck out of him, but it’s also completely harmless. If there was anything that ever threatened him she’d be the first at the scene with weapons, along with reinforcements. It’s a good thing that she seems to like Bradley, because the alternative is not nearly as nice. Or embarrassing. She’d be frosty politeness, best manners and all bless your heart. But she doesn’t seem to have any qualms about inviting Bradley into the family home at all, and some of his past girlfriends and boyfriends never even got invited. Bradley got invited before they’d even kissed and that tells him his mom already likes and approves of him, not that she’s held back telling him that of course, but there’s a difference between words and actions.

                The day passes in a busy haze of filming, and he does indeed have to deal with the makeup artist mumbling under their breath about his pink skin, but it’s easily dealt with and he isn’t told to not turn up like that again which is just as well because that’s not a promise he’s going to make.

…            …            …

                Bradley is working through fine-tuning tomorrow’s stunts with Rueben and Natasha when he hears someone cough and he turns to find Jake watching them, eyes dark and now that he knows he realizes that Jake isn’t subtle at all. No wonder Natasha has been laughing at him. He grins and excuses himself, asks Bob to spot them and he doesn’t care if they’re all laughing at him behind his back.

                “Hi.”

                “Hi. Sorry again about this morning. I wish I could say that she’s not always like that, but she totally is.”

                “It’s fine. She’s been asking me every couple of days since I arrived actually. Just… didn’t want to impose. Before.”

                “She wouldn’t invite you if she didn’t want to. Trust me.”

                “Then do you mind if I come to dinner?”

                “Do you actually want to have dinner with my parents?”

                “Yeah. I do. If this is… Look. What do you want here?” Bradley asks, because he’s trying to piece it together. What he has read, what he’s seen, but he needs to hear it from Jake. He thinks Jake might be serious about him, which is an utterly wild thought he can’t believe he’s having, knows he can’t assume anything, but is pretty sure his instincts are right.

                “I want you to come have dinner with my parents. With me. And all that that entails.”

                “Dinner with my family when we’re back in LA then?” Bradley replies, aware that he’s asking and confirming more than just dinner. They’re not going to be back in LA for a couple of months, he’s confirming to Jake that this is him thinking of them as a long-term thing. Jake is smiling and nodding, reaching for his hand and he lets him lace their fingers together.

                “Yeah. Yeah, dinner sounds good. I was hoping I could have this conversation with you, but I kind of got distracted last night…”

                Bradley grins, sucks his lips into his mouth and knows his pleased amusement has to be showing on his face. He likes that he can apparently distract Jake and also that his instincts were right.

                “God. Stop it. I want to tell you that I don’t… do this very often.”

                “What’s that exactly?” Bradley asks, running a thumb over the back of Jake’s hand.

                “Sex with people. I mean. I don’t do one-night stands. Not that we… Uh. I don’t do casual. That’s what I mean. If that’s a deal breaker then that’s okay, but I just –”

                “Jake, I just agreed to have dinner with your parents. And we arranged to have dinner with my family at some point when we’re both back in LA… So we’re… dating?” Bradley asks, unbelievably endeared by Jake’s flustered mumbling.

                “Is it dating when we’re stuck on location for a couple of months?”

                “I’m sure we’ll make do.”

                The grin Jake gives him is blinding and he grins back, wants to kiss him but restrains himself, not sure just how public Jake wants to make the thing they’ve just decided is actually a thing. Plus he won’t mention that the location in question is apparently Jake’s childhood home and he surely has lots of places they can explore together.

                “Jesus Jake… you’re something special you know that?”

                “Well, I think you are too, so we’re even.”

                “Wasn’t aware it was a competition. And I am sorry about the stubble rash by the way…”

                “Don’t be. I’m not.”

                Bradley’s cheeks are going to hurt from grinning so much.

                “Permission to give it to you again?” Bradley asks, tongue sticking out of his teeth playfully, well aware he’s full-on flirting now, but he’s flirting with the guy he’s apparently dating and judging from the make out session they’d enjoyed last night Jake is more than onboard for further sessions.

                “Permission granted…”

                “Right now?” Bradley challenges, laughing at the immediate eyeroll he gets.

                “Maybe not right now, I still have to go run over lines. You want a ride to my place?”

                “I think I can find the way. What time?”

                “Better make it seven, she’ll want to make sure the kitchen is running smoothly in the mess before she allows herself to go home and cook.”

                “Okay. Should I dress up or anything?” Bradley asks, suddenly worried because he did not bring suitable attire for anything requiring dressing up.

                “No. Take your shoes and hat off at the door and you’ll be fine.”

                “I don’t wear a hat.”

                “Yet. You don’t wear a hat yet.”

                “The way you say that makes it sound like a threat. Should I be worried?”

                “I mean, not about being made to wear a hat. You’re the one willingly coming to eat dinner with my parents. My mom in particular. My dad is… he’s easy.”

                “Jake, I’ve been talking with your mom for over two weeks… and I’ve met your dad. And okay, I didn’t know they were your parents when I met them, but they both seem nice.”

                Jake looks at him, eyebrow raised and expression clearly disbelieving and Bradley lets out a sharp laugh.

                “Your mom is your mom. It’s not like she’s shown me any baby photos.”

                “Oh god, please don’t mention baby photos to her.”

                “I mean, she did call you wee Jake once…”

                “Wait, she called me wee Jake and you still didn’t realize I grew up here? You knock your head a few too many times there?”

                “Shut up…” Bradley says, embarrassed. “I just thought she was a close family friend and had watched you grow up.”

                “Well, she did watch me grow up. Sometimes complained about that fact I was doing it too fast…”

                Bradley grins, a memory of his own mom complaining about the same thing floating into his mind and he squeezes Jake’s hand, brushes a soft kiss against his cheek.

                “I’ll see you at dinner.”

                “Oh god… yeah. Okay. See you at dinner.”

FOURTEEN

[ram-bam-writes]

RHO (Ridin’ Him Out) Pt. 2 [Hangman x NB Reader]

A/N: No apologies. Some plot. Mostly horny thoughts :>

Word Count: 2233

CW: Smut (explicit), fingering, semi-public fucking, truck kink, piv (wrap before tap), slight degradation, no beta we die like goose, etc

“Hey Hangman!” 

You peek up from your kindle to see Bradley grinning up at your boyfriend, two rusted axes he’d taken from Mav a while back in his hands. Your boyfriend, without even hesitating, stands up and strips off his flannel, stomping confidently over to his opposing pilot. Wild smirk and all, he takes one of them and spins it far too dangerously in his hands.

Everyone had just gotten finished setting up the camping lot. Bob and Nat had set up a small patio-like area right outside of their trailer with large tables, since they’d focus on being the dining area for the trip. Meanwhile, Bradley and his partner used their trailer area for the outdoor games and campfire as the lounge area. Rueben and Mickey set up their tent a few yards away from you and Jake’s truck, which, in your opinion, was far too grand for a simple camping trip. To each their own. Javy brought a more modest tent, something simple to share with his partner and their pup.

You and Jake had settled for a simple truck bed tent. It was easy, and you liked the coziness of it. After all, you had two other trailers to hang out in during the day if you needed, so you both only needed the tent for sleep. It came with a zippered entrance and a zippered top. The top would unzip to a mesh window, something Jake had gushed about the moment he saw it. He loved sleeping under the stars, and so did you.

Now, you and the rest of the group sit underneath the patio of Nat and Bob’s trailer. The sun is still pretty high despite it being 20:00, but it seems Bradley wants to show off to his sweetheart, and there’s no doubt Jake wishes to do the same to you. Had Javy not just gotten back from medical leave due to a dislocated shoulder, he probably would have joined. 

If only Jake knew what it would lead to…

You’re practically drooling as Jake’s sweat runs down his toned body. His hair is disheveled as he runs his fingers through the dirty blond locks, a lazy grin on his flushed face. He swings the axe again, breaking apart the pre-chopped logs Javy had agreed to bring. 

“Likin’ the view, sweetheart?” Your boyfriend asks in that all too familiar teasing tone.

You could only whistle, throat too dry to produce an audible sound. The way his fingers curled around the axe, and — gods — the way he grit his teeth as he swung it once again… It made you squirm in your seat, eyes already glossing over as you licked your lips. 

For the next 30 minutes you were greeted with the hot sight of your boyfriend’s muscles straining and tensing as he and Bradley battled it out. Eventually there was no wood left, and the two agreed a reluctant tie for the competition of who could go longest. 

“Alright, alright… a tie.” Bradley offered his hand with a lazy grin, Jake shaking it with a more arrogant one.

“For now…”

Jake plopped back on the camping chair next to yours, his hand immediately coming down to clasp around your thigh. The action made you jump, eyes widening as a quiet gasp fell from your lips. Your boyfriend raised a brow at you. His brows twitch as he process your reaction, and in half a second, his lips brush against your ear.

“Don’t tell me you’re fucked-up already, darlin’…” His voice is practically a damn purr. 

You push him away, desperate to keep your sanity for the time being, especially when Bob’s eyes flick to Nat’s for help as she snickers quietly. Nat had always been the one to catch onto these sorts of things, and she could do it for Bradley and his partner, too.

——

“That wasn’t fair, y’know…” You pouted, climbing up into the tent that rests atop the muddy Ram truck. 

“Mmm… I never said I’d go easy on you. C’mon, darlin’, you can last a few more days, can’t you?”

You could only huff in response, quickly changing into something more comfortable before settling down. You watch as your boyfriend’s eyes glitter when he sees you, a challenging look in them. You know that look all too well… 

You opt to fling his sleep shirt at him, muttering an on-brand, “Fuck you,” all the while. 

He zips the tent up behind himself, making a loud thud as he drops to his elbows next to you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was exhausted. Alas, you did know him better, and can only mentally die when you hear those heavy breaths fall from his mouth. 

You tried your hardest not to think about the rough surface beneath the blanket you lay on. If you thought any harder about it, you might actually combust. His truck, his brand-new, stupid fucking truck. The one that’s as beefy as any military-grade vehicle and as loud as any military jet. The one he treats just as roughly as he treats you in bed, leaving an equal amount of mess on both. 

He had no right to get that truck. No right at all. But you couldn’t argue with him when he pulled into the driveway of your apartment, a lazy, confident smirk filling out his features. He pulled the classic move of leaning against the truck’s door, arms crossed to give his biceps a chance to flex right in your face. If that wasn’t enough, he hadn’t changed out of his Navy Khaki’s, toothpick between his lips and aviators on his face. 

He knew what he was doing.

Every ride since then had been the same. His hands squeezing your thigh, fleeting glances here and there, all too teasing comments out of the blue. That man was conditioning you — and fuck if it wasn’t working. Before you knew it, your thighs would clench the moment you got into his truck, mouth salivating simply at the sight of the bed. Your mind wouldn’t give you rest, not when he revved the engine and let you feel the bass against your seat. Not when he’d play the heaviest, dirtiest songs and drive down an old dirt road, watching your eyes glaze over and your mouth part in the prettiest of sounds. 

Fuck it.

Your hands slam against the bed of his truck, and you used the force to push you up and over until your thighs are firmly planted on either sides of his hips. He made this problem, and he’d sure as hell fix it.

“There’s my pretty thing…” He purrs, hands firm on your hips as he bucks up into you. 

You mewl a pretty, breathy sound, eyes fluttering as you flop against his chest. The little energy you had to climb him has been spent, leaving your hands to rest against his chest and claw at his faded Navy shirt. Your mouth presses firmly against his neck, and his hand grips your scalp and pushes you further. The man always has a thing for marks, especially on his own body. 

“C’mon, hun… show ‘em fuckers what you can do…” His hips grind against yours, other hand snaking around your waist to ease you into a steady rhythm. 

He yanks your head back, releasing your scalp to press two fingers in between your lips. You eagerly suck the digits, far too used to the motion to think. All that runs through your mind is the haze of pleasure and the scent of sex already thick in the tent. Your tongue laps eagerly at those thick fingers, eyes rolling at the salty taste that coats them.

The hand around your waist strips you of your pajama bottoms, easily slipping off your underwear and holding you against himself. His hands swap places, tugging them away from from your mouth to see the spit drip down your lips.

“So messy…”

His dry fingers focus on that pleasure spot between your thighs, long strokes up and down just to tease. Edging that pleasure, keeping you high on your toes and drunk off your mind. And when his mouth wraps around your soft, perky nipples, the howl you let out might truly be mistaken for a jackal by the team. 

It takes a moment for your clouded, pleasure-filled mind to recognize the movements of his tongue. But when you feel the pattern of letters, you nearly cum right then and there. The pilot makes a mess of your chest, never relenting his sucks and licks and certainly never easing up on his strokes.

He releases your nipple with a sweet pop, eyes glittering dangerously. “Gotta be quiet, hun… don’t want the team peeking in, do ya?”

Fuck if that didn’t make you twitch.

“Perv…” He hisses, nipping your neck and forcing your head close to his chest with his dry hand, ignoring your hips for now. “My pretty, filthy little perv…”

You don’t get a chance to react. Before you know it, your face meets the cold bed of his truck. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d moved the blanket, but fuck if it wasn’t sexy as all hell to be forced against it. The cool metal shines from your spit.

“I know all about your little kink, darlin’…” Jakes fingers prod at your tight hole, slipping one finger in before curling it. “Can’t wait to finish this fucking trip… can’t wait to figure out how many damn ways I can fuck you in, on, and against this goddamn RHO…”

Tears pool on your lashes at his words, oh so humiliating yet oh so hot. He knocks the wind out of you not a second later, three fingers working to open you up, dragging against that pad of nerves deep within you. You fight against his hand to throw your head back and cry from the pleasure, but you’re left with your cheek firm against the truck bed, drool and tears pooling.

He feels the warmth of your insides clamping down on his fingers, that telltale warning you always give when you’re close. But you don’t get release just yet. No, he has other plans for you. You don’t fight when he hauls you up and onto your back. He’s rock hard because of you, dragging his wet tip against you before pressing an inch inside of you.

He always goes slow with you when he starts. The last thing he wants is to genuinely injure you. But once he’s in, once he recognizes that movement of your shoulders falling lax and walls easing up…

He goes fucking feral.

One arm holds Jake upright, his chest firm against yours to keep you pinned. The other if keeping your head pressed against his neck, lips stretching into a smile as he feels your familiar bites. You bite him, and you bite him hard. If he doesn’t bleed, he’ll sure as hell bruise. The thought makes his cock twitch, dragging the thickness in and out of you, veins pulsing against your walls. 

Your head spins, eyes rolled back as you babble incoherently. Nothing else mattered but the feel of his cock inside of you, that familiar warmth sending your mind into a frenzy. You pant and cry like a hound, the sweet sounds muffled by his sweat-slick skin. 

“That’s it baby… that’s it, c’mon… c’mon darlin’…” He licks and nips your earlobe, pants and moans falling from his own lips.

And you’re so close. So, so fucking close. All you want is to have him cum deep inside of you — to fill you up and mark you as his. To feel the thick wetness spill out from your roughed-up hole, to feel his tongue clean you up.

But he doesn’t give that to you. Not quite.

“Cum for me, hun… cum all over my fucking truck…”

He works you until you cum, wetness pooling beneath you on the black metal of his truck. And instead of summing inside of you like you so often to and he so often complies, he pulls out and lets his white-hot ropes spill out freely. Some of the sticky mess coats your thighs and abused hole, but most land on the metal beneath you.

You gasp, eyes glazed over as your head spins. Not only has your orgasm been ripped out of you like a goddamn pull-tab, but you’re flipped onto your belly before you get a chance to recover. You glance up to see him smirking down at you, a newer, more dangerous look in his eyes. His grip tightens in your scalp, the muscles in his arms flexing as he does so.

“Clean up your mess, you nasty little perv…” He purrs, pushing you down roughly until your lips hover over the mix of cum that coats his truck. “Clean your mess like a good little fuck…”

——

Bonus:

Nat is the first to speak the following morning when Jake slips out of the tent, you still sound asleep. Her eyes focus on glaring at your boyfriend. “Y’know… the RHO is soundproof. Just for reference.”

Rueben exhales deeply, rubbing the sleep from his face as he sits next to an equally exhausted Javy.

“Please use that tip. Mick’ is the only one with noise-cancelling headphones…”

The shit-eating grin your boyfriend has for the rest of the trip is unlike any of his smirks you’ve seen before.