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trickphotography2 · 1 year ago

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D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 9

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader

Word count: 5.9k

Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.

18+, minors DNI

Chapter 8 | Master List | Ao3

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Chapter 9

Working on base was a whole different beast. While you still dealt with cocky pilots and big personalities, the transitory nature of working with the military meant no one was entrenched in their positions. Orders came through every few years, so squadrons were rebuilt repeatedly. The GS folks tended to stay in place, but with everyone spread across the different squadrons, a majority of the communication was held over Teams with weekly in-person meetings. Only four of your coworkers were with you in the Bounty Hunter’s hanger - and it was nice that you weren’t the only woman on the team.

The higher-ups didn’t stand for any disrespect to the GS employees. Once, in a standing-room-only meeting, an Admiral had forced a Petty Officer out of his seat for you. You were never called ‘sweetheart’ or asked to get coffee for the meeting. Even though you asked them to call you by your first name, you were often addressed as Ma’am or by your last name.

It helped that you and Jake had hosted a misfit's Christmas party.

Your parents had a tradition of inviting any Airmen that didn’t have someone to spend the holidays with to their house. It had started with them as a young married couple away from their families for the first time, and later as Dad climbed the ranks and became an NCO, he wanted to take care of his guys. So when they visited for Christmas and Jake gave them a flight line tour, it just kind of happened. The get-together ballooned from the four of you and Javy to about 30 people at Jake’s place - pilots, WSOs, and a few of your coworkers. There were single folks and married couples. When one of Javy’s coworkers showed up with their newborn, Mom was more than happy to play grandma and ensure the new parents had time to eat and relax. Everyone had contributed a dish, and beer pong and cornhole games were set up in the backyard. You and Javy ruled the beer pong table for four rounds before finally losing to Jake and a WSO called Boondock.

For all his worry about meeting your parents, Jake had done phenomenally. Mom surprised him with a homemade stocking that matched yours, and he’d had to clear his throat a few times before thanking her. Dad gifted him an Air Force t-shirt and laughed when Jake thanked him for the rag to clean his truck tires.

December faded into January, and Jake drunkenly declared that he was going to marry you when you kissed in the new year.

Your first big fight was on January 3rd when your apartment’s 60-day lease renewal notice appeared on your front door. Jake wanted you to end your lease and move in. You wanted to keep your place - moving in 10 months into a relationship wasn’t part of the agreement, and you liked having your own space. He demanded to know what about your relationship made you question moving in. You tried to tell him that it wasn’t about not feeling stable in your relationship. It was about your comfort. He snapped that he wasn’t your ex trying to trap you. When he stormed out of the apartment, you refused to apologize. The stalemate went on for three days until you sent him a picture of your new short-term lease that would end in September - four months after your anniversary. Rent would be more expensive, but it was at least a compromise.

Your second fight was about communication when he showed up at your apartment the next day.

Happy Anniversary, darlin’. I wish I was with you, but we’ll celebrate when I get home. Love you so much - Jake

The flowers - the same arrangement that he’d bought you the first time he’d asked you out - had shown up on your desk first thing in the morning, and you’d endured some gentle teasing by the aviators, mechanics, and coworkers. And while you’d looked forward to celebrating one year with your boyfriend, unfortunately, he was deployed across the state with Javy.

What he didn’t know was that you planned on surprising him.

The late afternoon flight to Mirimar only took an hour. You left straight from the office, your weekend bag waiting in the trunk. You had a meeting with your old company to discuss a delayed delivery, and it had been so satisfying to see your old coworkers squirm when you asked them to explain the delay of services and the implementation of the penalties that had previously been negotiated. In preparation for the meeting, you’d decided to dress up a bit more than usual, anticipating getting to change before heading to the airport - traveling in a pencil skirt and button-down wasn’t the most comfortable. But the meeting had run long, and you’d had to speed to the airport only to find out your flight was delayed. And delayed again.

It was almost 6:00 PM when you landed, and you’d missed Jake’s after-work call. Quickly, you texted him that you were stuck at the office and would call him back. He made your life easy by saying he would be at the bar but would make sure to step out to answer. He’d already told you about the regular spot the pilots congregated at, so you had a good idea of where you could find him. If all else failed, you could text Javy.

Thankfully you were able to pick up your rental car relatively quickly. Since you were planning to spend time by the beach, you'd decided to splurge on a convertible. They gave you a newer Mustang, and you quickly snapped a picture to send to your dad.

The Hard Deck was a cute beachside bar and popular if the parking lot was anything to go by, especially for a Wednesday. After fixing your hair and freshening your lipstick, you hesitated a moment before undoing an extra button on your blouse. Leaning against the back of the car, you quickly swapped out your flats for a pair of stilettos that Jake loved, ignoring the looks of a few other patrons heading inside. With a final check to make sure your shirt was tucked in and your belt was straight, you headed inside.

80s music greeted you as you pushed open the door. Glancing up, you saw beer steins and replica planes hung on the ceiling and patches decorating the walls. Skirting the edge of the room, you kept your eyes peeled for your boyfriend.

After a week and a half, he was a sight for sore eyes, backlit by the setting sun as he lifted a beer bottle to his lips and watched a game of pool, checking his phone. Laughing to yourself, you texted him.

Leaving in five minutes. I’ll call you as soon as I’m off base.

He set his beer down and smiled at his phone. A minute later, yours vibrated in your hand.

Good thing we didn’t have plans tonight. Don’t forget to bring your flowers home.

Have I told you how much I love them? You texted back while making your way to the bar.

I hope so. Blew my entire flower budget on this cute GS contract admin. Smiling, you leaned against the bar and waited to order, eyes trained on Jake, who kept glancing at his phone.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

“Hi - can I get a whiskey and Coke and whatever that gentleman over there is drinking?” She turned to look at where you were pointing. Her smile was slightly more sarcastic when she turned back.

“I wouldn’t waste your time, sweetie.”

“Thanks for the advice, but I’ll take my chances. Do you have drink runners?”

“Might as well save yourself the money,” the man beside you said. “Hangman’s not worth the trouble.” You glanced at him - he wore a flight suit, which seemed to be a pretty standard uniform at The Hard Deck.

“Is that so?” you replied, reading his name patch. Yale. As the bartender got the drinks, you turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yup. So how about we take those drinks and find a place to get to know one another.” His eyes flitted to your cleavage. When his gaze met yours again, you raised an eyebrow. You’d forgotten how cocky pilots were off base, surrounded by civilians. Anytime you were around them at home, the ones you interacted with either knew you from work or saw you with Jake and treated you with respect. The thought of putting him in his place made the corner of your mouth lift into a smirk.

“How do you feel about a friendly bet?” Yale faced you, arm draped across the bar so his fingers nearly brushed yours.

“What’s the bet?”

“Hangman - that’s what you called him? - leaves with me tonight.”

“And the terms?”

“If I’m right, you pay for our first round. But if you’re right, I'll pick up your tab for the night.”

“That’s more than two drinks - I’ve already paid for rounds for my friends.” You shrugged. “You pick up my tab and have a drink with me.”

“One that I would be paying for, presumably, since I’d pick up your tab?”

“A bet’s a bet.”

You paused, tapping your finger against your lower lip as though debating your response. “Two-for-one terms don’t work for me. If you want me to pick up your tab and have a drink with you, you’ll have to pay for all my drinks for the night. Plus his.”

“Done.” When he extended his hand, you reached for it but paused before shaking.

“You have to bring him the beer.” When he shrugged, you shook his hand, forcing yourself not to laugh. When he reached for the bottle in front of you, you stopped him. “Hang on. This too.” Grabbing a clean napkin and a pen from the bar, you quickly scribbled a note before folding the napkin in half and handing it to Yale.

“Thanks for the beers,” he smirked.

“We’ll see.” With a chuckle and wink, he walked back towards the pool table. You tracked him, sipping your cocktail before glancing over in time to see Javy spot you. His mouth opened in surprise, and you quickly pressed a finger to your lips, motioning him to be quiet. Yale handed Jake the beer just as Javy reached his side. He scowled at the napkin as Yale said something. Javy glanced over Jake’s shoulder and grinned at you when he unfolded it.

Jake said something to Yale before looking at the bar, gaze running over the other patrons. Finally, his green eyes landed on you. His frown faded, and your favorite crooked grin appeared. Turning to Yale, he nodded before lifting the beer to his mouth and taking a pull as he started towards you. Unerringly, his eyes found you as he navigated the crowd.

And then he was there, grinning down at you. “Working late, huh?”

“Something like that,” you laughed. Jake lifted the napkin and cocked an eyebrow.

“You’re stealing my moves, darlin’. Now, why exactly am I playing it cool?”

“Because I’m about to take care of our tab for the night.” Stepping closer, you placed one hand on his chest, feeling his heart pounding under your palm, and arched an eyebrow. “I bet Yale that I could take Hangman home tonight.” Jake’s hand rested on your hip as he stepped closer, looming over you.

“And what’d he bet?”

“That I couldn’t, and I’d have a drink with him and pick up his tab.” His eyes left yours to dart over to where Yale and Javy stood. Both men watched your exchange, Javy grinning around his beer while Yale looked disappointed.

“Fuck the bet. I’ve got your drinks for the night,” he growled. His lips crashed into yours, hand sliding from your hip to your lower back and hauling you closer. He took advantage of your startled gasp and slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your hand slid up his chest to cup his jaw, thumb rasping against his stubble. When you finally broke apart, you lightly swept your thumb over his lower lip to wipe away your lipstick. “What are you doing here?” Jake asked softly.

“Well,” you smiled, “it’s important to hold negotiations face-to-face whenever possible.”

“That right?”

“Yup. So are you ready to discuss the contract, Lieutenant?” Placing his beer beside your glass, he unzipped one of his pockets and pulled out his wallet. Instead of pulling out his credit card, he handed you a folded piece of paper. Tears sprang to your eyes when you opened it.

It was your original contract.

“Ready whenever you are. Got a whole list of updates that I want.” You swayed closer and tilted your head back. Jake’s kiss was softer this time. “Love you, darlin’.”

“Love you too, babe.”

“Wanna get out of here?”

“You don’t want to introduce me to your friends?”

“Not if they’re gonna hit on you,” he scoffed. You laughed, refolding the paper and handing it back. He slipped it into his wallet.

“I want to say hi to Javy and finish my drink. Then we can go back to my hotel.” Grabbing your glass, you pushed off the bar and walked away. Jake dragged his eyes down your body, lingering on your legs, before following.

Javy met your halfway and pulled you in for a hug. “Couldn’t even go two weeks without his ugly mug. What are you gonna do when he’s on a longer deployment?”

“Well, first, let’s not put that into the universe,” you laughed. “And second, it’s only because it’s a special occasion.”

“Right. Not sure how you put up with him for a year.”

“You’ve put up with him longer than I have.”

“Alright, alright,” Jake huffed, tossing his arm across your shoulders and tugging you close.

“I checked on your place yesterday,” you told Javy. “Everything’s good - I brought in a bit of mail that didn’t get stopped.”

“You’re the best. How long are you here for?”

“I fly out Sunday morning. I have to work from the hotel tomorrow, but other than that I’m - ”

“Plenty of time to talk later, then,” Jake said, gently tugging you away. “Say bye to Coyote.”

“Pool later?” you asked, pointing at Javy, who chuckled and nodded as you were pulled towards the back door. As you passed Yale, Jake lifted his hand from your shoulder and flipped him off. You couldn’t help but laugh as you stepped onto the deck. He led you to the stairs and paused long enough for you to kick off your heels before walking towards the line of Adirondack chairs facing the ocean.

“C’mere,” he said as soon as he settled in one of the chairs, patting his thigh. You stood between his knees and dropped your shoes, placing your drink on the chair arm beside his beer.

“God,” you sighed, curling your toes in the sand, “it’s been forever since I’ve been to the beach.”

“Can’t believe you’re here,” Jake said, sitting up and wrapping his hands around your thighs, pushing the material further up your legs. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he guided you closer. “I love and hate this skirt.”

“Oh?”

“You look sexy as hell in it, but it’s too tight to let me touch you the way I want.”

“That’s probably a good thing since we’re in public and surrounded by your coworkers.” Leaning down, you rested one hand on his shoulder and ran your fingers through his hair. “Missed you, Seresin. Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary,” he echoed, tugging you down to straddle his knee. Your skirt was tight across your legs and ass, and the wood was uncomfortable on your knees, but it didn’t matter when Jake’s lips pressed against yours, licking into your mouth as his fingers dug into your waist. When the wind blew your hair into your faces, you laughed against his mouth. He chased your lips when you pulled away and groaned when you stood up. Turning, you settled on the chair between his legs and leaned back against his chest, your bare feet brushing against his boots.

“So, how was work today, Hangman?” you asked. The setting sun reflected off the ocean as you entwined your fingers together and rested them on your stomach.

“Good. Spent the day in the air working the training course.”

“For the mission you can’t tell me about, even though I have a top-secret clearance.”

"Yup.” His nose brushed your throat as you took a sip of your drink.

“Is it really dangerous?” His hesitation was the only answer you needed.

“They brought in the best. Which for some reason includes those idiots in there,” he said, squeezing your hand. You knew he was trying to lighten the mood.

“Well, not everyone’s a Seresin,” you shrugged.

“You could be.” You sputtered, a bit of your drink spilling onto your chest. Chuckling, Jake lifted his hand to wipe it from your breasts and licked his fingers clean. Setting your nearly empty glass on the chair arm, you turned to face him. “What?” he shrugged.

“Is that your opening position in the negotiations? Marriage?”

“It’s on the list.”

“You have a list?” Jake grinned, poking his tongue in his cheek as he raised an eyebrow.

“Are you tellin’ me that Ms. ‘I Negotiate for a Living’ doesn’t have a list of things ready for our contract negotiations?”

“I have a mental list. That’s what we’re talking about, right?”

“Sure, darlin’.”

“Jake, you don’t have an actual list, do you?”

Jake did have a list. Saved on his phone.

After giving Javy the keys to their rental car and stopping by the base dorms so he could grab enough clothes for the morning, you went to the hotel. He was reluctant to let you drive, but you reminded him that he wasn’t on the rental agreement and told him to enjoy being a passenger princess. The only time he could drive was when you had to go on base - even though you had your CAC card, you didn’t want to tempt fate with your civilian employee ID being rejected for going onto the wrong installation.

“I want this as our tradition,” you said from your spot on the corner of the king-sized bed. Jake set his burger on the hotel desk and wiped at his mouth, cocking an eyebrow as you ate another fry. He’d tied the top half of his flight suit around his waist, and his black t-shirt clung to his chest and arms.

“What? A hotel room?”

“No. I want us to get McDonald's for dinner.” He looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“You want fast food. Not a nice dinner, not a trip - McDonald’s.”

“This is what we had the first night we were together.”

“We can do this until we get married. Then we’re gonna have a nicer tradition.”

“According to you, we’ll only get to do this once more, then. Twice if we do a long engagement.”

“It’s not going to be a long engagement.” You rolled your eyes. Jake wanted to get married this year, but you’d gotten him to agree to get engaged in exchange for keeping his rental house for another two years before looking to buy your own home. He wasn’t sure when orders would come down for him to move since he’d been with the Vigilantes for two years already. He was pretty confident he could move to another squadron on Lemoore when the time came, but he was hesitant to purchase anything when you might have to move shortly after.

“I want to do this for our dating anniversary. We’ll discuss the wedding anniversary when we get to that point.”

“So you want two anniversaries?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Well, future Mrs. Seresin, since you want one that’s cheap, I guess I’m fine with it.”

“Sentimental, not cheap,” you corrected. Your face flushed when he stood and walked closer, plucking the fry container from your hands and placing it on the desk. Leaning over you, he tilted your head back.

“Sentimental it is, Mrs. Seresin.” You flushed under his heated gaze. Jake brushed his lips against your forehead and cheeks as you untied the sleeves of his flight suit and pushed it down his legs. “Love you, darlin’.”

“Love you, too.” Planting one hand on the bed, he slowly lowered you onto the mattress while kicking off his suit. He quickly stripped off his shirt before licking into your mouth. His dog tags rested in the hollow of your throat, and you wrapped your hand around them, using them to pull him closer.

“Wearin’ too many clothes,” he mumbled while working on the buttons of your blouse. Jake grumbled when you pushed against his shoulders until he stood up.

“Sit against the headboard.” He took the initiative to strip off his boxers, his cock flushed and resting on his stomach. Smiling coyly, you finished undoing your buttons and slid the shirt from your shoulders. Your belt and bra hit the floor, and you shimmied off your skirt and panties.

“Put the heels back on,” he said, voice rough with lust. “And get over here.” You did as you were told and crawled across the bed towards him, smiling as Jake’s fingers dug into your waist when you straddled him. “Fuckin’ missed you, darlin’.”

“Is that so, Lieutenant Seresin?” You ran your fingers through his hair and kissed the corner of his mouth. When he turned to chase your lips, you pulled away. Dragging your hand down his chest, you lifted his dog tags and traced his name. “You’re really ready to share your last name again?”

“I’d take you to the courthouse today if you’d let me.”

“I guess Javy can’t be too disappointed in you, since you waited longer than three months this time.”

“Darlin’, don’t talk about other men when you’re naked in my bed.” Smirking, you slid the ball chain over his head. His heated gaze watched as you put on the dog tags, the metal warmed from his skin, falling between your breasts.

“Technically, this is my bed since I rented the room.”

“Pretty sure the vows go ‘what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours’.”

“You’re jumping a few steps,” you scolded. “No agreements are binding until we sign the papers and you actually ask me to marry you, so you better behave, Hangman, or we’ll terminate the contract.”

“I’d like to see you try,” he chuckled, running his fingers along your core and smirking to find you already wet. Easing his middle and ring fingers into you, he pulled you down to whisper against your mouth, “Did you miss me?” At your hummed response, he nipped your lower lip. “Words, darlin’.”

“Yes.”

“Couldn’t wait for me to come home and take care of you the way you like, could you?”

“No.” He added a third finger, holding tightly to your hip when you moaned at the stretch. Jake crooked his fingers, using his thumb to circle your clit as you panted against his neck. When you’d adjusted to his thick fingers, you ran your tongue down his throat and nipped his shoulder before closing your lips around the hurt, flattening your tongue against it. He groaned when you dug your nails into his back. Calloused fingers trailed up your spine and wrapped around your hair, drawing you away.

“Careful, darlin’. Can’t have you damaging government property, now.” Your sarcastic retort was lost in a loud ah when he thrust his fingers hard while tugging your hair. Hips moving of their own accord, you leaned back to brace your hands on his thighs as you rode his fingers. He grinned and pulled your breast into his mouth, sucking hard. His tongue flicked over your nipple before his teeth dragged along your skin and tugged. Your fingers carded through his hair, holding him against you as you shuddered and came with a gasp.

Jake fucked you through your orgasm and slowly withdrew his fingers, the wet sound mingling with your heavy breaths, bringing them to your mouth. You opened for him and licked them clean, gagging slightly when he inched them toward the back of your throat, his Academy ring pressed against your stretched lips. “One. Now hold onto the headboard, baby.” Your stomach clenched when he wrapped his hand around your waist and encouraged you onto your knees, thighs shaking with the effort of holding yourself up. Grinning, he shifted down the mattress, his shoulders forcing your legs wider until your knees were beside his head. He’d wanted you to ride his face for a while, but you’d always hesitated. “Please, darlin’,” he said softly, arms wrapping around the back of your thighs.

“You’re sure?”

“So fuckin’ sure.” Biting your lower lip, you nodded. He grinned while pulling you closer, brushing lips to your inner thighs. When you hovered over him, he pulled you down onto his mouth, placing soft kisses against your core. The first pass of his tongue was light and teasing, trying to get you comfortable. His nose bumped your clit, and you inhaled sharply, shying away from his touch. The motion dragged your slit across Jake’s mouth, and he groaned. The vibration made you moan, and your hips rocked. “That’s it, baby,” he encouraged before dipping his tongue into you and sucking kisses up to your clit to run his tongue around it. Your knees slid along the sheets as your thighs struggled to hold you up.

Your grip on the headboard tightened, and you lowered your head, forcing your eyes open. Jake’s eyes were closed, clearly savoring the moment. Turning, you groaned at the sight of his cock, pink and dripping against his stomach, your black stilettos a stark contrast against his sunkissed skin. Reaching back, you dragged your finger through the precum pooling on his skin. His muscles jumped under your touch, and his pupils were blown wide when you turned to face him, sucking on your finger. “I want you in my mouth later.” Jake moaned against your pussy, and you yelped when he dragged you down to his mouth. All softness was gone as he attacked you, using every trick he knew to get you off. When you started to grind against him, he flattened his tongue and let you use him.

Collapsing backward onto the bed, you tried to catch your breath. Jake chuckled, dragging his knuckle along the leg still draped over his chest. When you lifted your head to meet his gaze, he winked, chin glistening with your wetness. “Two. We’re doin’ that again, darlin’.” Rolling your eyes, you moved your leg, lightly tapping his temple with the toe of your stiletto. His gaze followed you as you moved to lie on your stomach, cheek resting on his thigh and feet in the air, ankles crossed.

“That may be an anniversary treat.”

“Nope. Regular rotation.” Shaking your head, you lifted your hand to run your finger along the thick vein on his cock. “Put it in the contract.”

“Nope.”

“C’mon. You enjoyed it.”

“Not saying I didn’t,” you agreed, wrapping your hand around him and squeezing lightly. He grunted, eyes glued to yours as you shifted onto your elbow. “We’re not putting sex in the contract.” When he opened his mouth to reply, you dragged your fist up his length, stopping just under his flared head. “You were saying?” you teased.

“I - ” You closed your mouth over his tip, tongue darting into his slit. “Fuck.” You hummed, twirling your tongue around his head before swallowing him down, fist covering what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Tilting your head, you looked up at him so he could see the bulge of his dick in your cheek. His hips lifted, hitting the back of your throat. You gagged, tears springing to your eyes. Breathing through your nose, you swallowed around him.

Jake’s moans were so pretty.

With each pass, you took more of him, his hand on your head encouraging you. “So good, baby. Love your mouth. Feel so good,” he babbled. Your hand slipped between his legs to cup his balls, tugging gently. Your whined name and his hand pressing you down was the only warning he gave before his salty taste flooded your mouth. After swallowing and kitten licking his cock clean, you rolled onto your back and pulled off your heels, tossing them onto the floor. “Aw, darlin’, I wanted to fuck you with those on,” Jake whined.

“We’ve got all weekend,” you sighed.

You worked from the hotel on Thursday, periodically interrupted by Jake sending pictures. He’d clearly taken one while flying, and you reminded him exactly how much his plane cost and told him that he needed to be more careful. Later that night, he demonstrated just how careful and detail-oriented he was as he made you come four times.

The next morning, you presented him with the updated contract for his signature. After he signed, he’d written one more clause under your signatures. You reminded him that adding anything after signing wasn’t binding. He initialed both copies and made sure to show you just how little he cared when your cheek was pressed against the cold shower tiles as he fucked you from behind before leaving for work.

When you’d mentioned wanting to visit the USS Midway on your day off and offered to wait for him, Jake just shook his head and told you to enjoy - he saw enough of carriers during his deployments. So you spent the morning exploring the ship and surrounding statues, and sending him and your parents pictures. After grabbing a late lunch, you browsed the art galleries and stores in Seaport Village before heading back to the hotel for a nap.

On Saturday, you let Jake and Javy sleep in before dragging them to the zoo. As the day wore on, you saw the tension ease from their shoulders. By the time you left and they agreed to take advantage of the convertible to cruise down to the beach, both were singing along to Taylor Swift with you.

That night at The Hard Deck, you and Jake won a game of pool against Javy and another pilot named Payback. You met some of the other pilots on the special detachment - Jake made sure that you stayed away from Yale - including the infamous Bradshaw. As much as you wanted to give the pilot who cause Jake’s hangup with his callsign a piece of your mind, you held back. After all, that mustache and call sign - Rooster - were punishment enough.

Around midnight, you and Jake left the bar and went down to the beach. Walking along the shore, you held hands and enjoyed the lap of the waves washing over your feet. You didn’t go too far, knowing that you needed to leave soon so you could get some rest before going to the airport. But as you walked back up towards the bar to say goodnight to everyone, Jake pulled you to a stop when he heard the song playing. Tugging you into his arms, he slid his hands into the back pockets of your jeans and swayed with you as the Beach Boys crooned ‘Don’t Worry Baby’.

That night, Jake took his time to kiss every inch of your skin as you undressed. His fingers drifted over your curves as though to memorize them. And when he finally slid into you, he made sure you knew exactly how much he loved you.

You were reminded just how dangerous Jake’s job was on Tuesday. You were in a meeting when your phone chimed with his text.

Everyone’s okay. Will tell you more tonight.

He didn’t answer your call or text asking for clarification, and neither did Javy, but an hour later, there was a news blast saying there was a training accident and an F-18 had crashed into the desert. It was well after 8:00PM when Jake called. You could hear the fear in his voice when he told you about how three people almost burned in - how he’d almost lost his best friend and could do nothing but stand by the radio in the Ready Room and listen, praying that he snapped out of the G-LOC in time.

You stayed with him on the phone until he said he needed to shower. You whispered your love, promising to see one another soon.

As soon as you disconnected, you called Javy to check on him. He assured you he was okay, just had a headache. You made him promise to be careful and go get checked out if it got worse.

When you pulled out your laptop to check your email Wednesday morning, there was a notice for a requisition of a new F-18 for the Black Aces squadron.

Being underway meant had limited contact with Jake. He had access to his official military email address, so he sent you periodic messages, but calls were limited. He managed a video call once to let you know that he was on his way back. As happy as you were to see his face, a new weariness in his eyes made you wonder what had happened. He tried to assure you it was just because of how shitty he slept on the carrier.

When the six F-18s landed back on Lemoore, you ensured you were on the flight line to greet Jake and Javy. Both men looked tired but happy and quickly did their post-flight checks. You were able to drive them home but had to go back into the office after.

After work, you stopped to pick up dinner before heading to Jake’s house. When you walked inside, he was asleep in bed. Once you’d changed into your pajamas, you slid between the sheets.

Jake opened one eye and gave you a sleepy smile before moving closer, curling up on your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair until he fell back asleep, reveling in his weight pressing you into the mattress and knowing he was safe in your arms.

Dating Contract - One-Year Update

Following the annual “Dating” contract review, the two parties identified below agree that all clauses and conditions have been met. It is recommended that parties continue with the contract, maintaining an exclusive and monogamous relationship.

Recommend the following updates to the contract:

Strike three weeknight sleep-over policy. Parties agree not to set restrictions on the number of nights spent together.

Writer will move into the Contracting partner’s house following the termination of her lease in September. The Contracting partner will add the Writer to his lease.

Contracting partner agrees to allow the Writer to drink coffee in bed, and eat in bed on an ad hoc basis.

Parties agree not to walk out on arguments. Parties agree to request a ‘pause’ if necessary and will finish the discussion when cooler heads prevail.

Parties agree to acknowledge annual dating anniversary with dinner from McDonald’s

Parties agree to become engaged prior to the next annual review

Following the engagement, Parties agree to strike boyfriend/girlfriend and replace with fiancé/fiancée as appropriate

Parties will agree to a yearly review of the contract, with ad hoc meetings to discuss clauses and conditions as they arise.

More Sex - J.S.

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Author's Note: I decided to give Harvard a break and make Yale the one who hit on Darlin'. I didn't want to spend too much time with them at TOPGUN since Jake would be focused on the mission, but they couldn't spend their anniversary apart! The contract had to be renegotiated!

Thanks for the patience with this chapter. I ended up scrapping what I'd written and restarting. Hopefully you liked the abbreviated holidays and meet the parents.

To the anon who asked if I'll be posting this to Ao3, I've decided that I will. Not sure if I'll get to it this weekend, but it'll be posted under my new pseud - TrickPhotography2

ALSO - @mayhemmanaged made these gorgeous Instagram posts of Darlin' and Jake that you should look at and love as much as I do.

Thank you for reading ❤️

Read Chapter 10

Tag list: @memeorydotcom; @alldaysdreamers; @kmc1989; @djs8891; @caitsymichelle13; @dempy; @midnightmagpiemama; @lovelyladymayyyy; @caidi-paris; @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby; @bellaireland1981; @lethargicluv; @mayhemmanaged; @tenderclio; @lucypaulette; @abaker74; @trhett21; @misshoneypaper; @schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker; @eternallyvenus; @mavrellover91; @chloeforde; @thatbitcily

#hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun fic #top gun maverick #jake seresin #Hangman top gun #soft!Jake Seresin #hangman smut #hangman fic #D-Day fic #jake hangman seresin

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bullet-prooflove · 2 years ago

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Midnight Tip Toe - Luke Alvez x Reader

Tagging: @celilice1 @kabloswrld @whoreforhondo @xoxabs88xox @crazy4chickennuggets @anime-weeb-4-life @rosaliedepp @storiesofsvu @desert-fern @sendmylcve @99-reasons-to-live @legit9thlunaticwarrior @niya12 @yehhdh @cupids-lover

Another roadside motel, the only shithole in the middle of nowhere that wasn't booked up like all the other places in town. You hated being here in the wilderness, there was an absence of noise, of anything really. You were used to the rush of traffic, the noise of the city in your ears as you went about your life.

Here you were out of your element, sitting in the centre of the lion’s den, waiting for him to pounce.

You’d been chasing this killer for years, a serial rapist and murderer with a proclivity for brutality that went far beyond anything you had seen before. You were just a DC Metro Cop who worked in the Homicide Unit, except you’d been extensively investigating this guy on and off for a long time. You were the one who knew him the best, who’d climbed inside his head. You’d almost caught him the last time he’d popped back up in DC, you’d followed a trail of bread crumbs and come ever so close.

Then he was gone again.

Now you were out in the fucking boondocks with the BAU because you’d managed to track him all the way back to this shitty little town in backwater Washington state and they wanted your input.

You laid on your back, your gaze fixated on watermark in the ceiling above. You couldn’t sleep, your skin felt itchy and your heart thud even harder in your chest every time the branches moved outside your window. This place put the creeps up you. Knowing this is where it had all stemmed from, that this had been his original hunting ground...

You wondered what Luke was doing next door, if he had managed to fall asleep. The others didn’t know about the two of you, you’d decided to keep it low key since the two of you had hooked up the last time you’d worked together…

There was a knock on your door, a double rap to a tune only the two of you knew. You peered through the peephole before pulling open the door. Luke was clad in sweatpants and a grey v neck t-shirt, his dark hair tousled.

“I couldn’t sleep.” He told you in a low, gravelly tone as he closed the door behind him. “I keep thinking about you alone in here, him being so close.”

“Yea.” You murmured, your palm rubbing over the back of your neck. “I’m not doing so well with that.”

“Hence why I’m sleeping over.” He told you, his hands on your hips as he guided you back towards the bed.

“Just sleep.” You said, your fingers threading through his hair. “Your BAU friends will pick anything else up a mile away.”

“You act like they don’t already know.” He murmured, his thumbs trailing over the tiny sliver of skin between your vest top and pyjama shorts. Your breathing hitched as his lips brushed over yours.

“You promised you’d be good.” You reminded him as he set you down upon the sheets before draping himself over you.

“Oh, I can be very good.” He whispered against the curve of your throat, his fingertips hooking the waistband of your shorts and drawing them down. “Let me show you.”

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

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#luke alvez imagine #reader x luke alvez #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez #luke alvez x you

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nickgerlich · 2 months ago

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Going Up The Country

Music is another one of those highly contentious subjects that can quickly digress into argument. Our likes and dislikes are deeply personal, and reflect a lot about our personality, our upbringing, and the randomness of what resonates within.

I cut my teeth on rock music, and like most of my young male friends, the harder and louder, the better. It was probably hormonal rage, given that I was just entering adolescence. Black Sabbath and Deep Purple were my mainstays, and rarely would I ever drift toward—much less admit to liking—pop hits.

Fortunately, my tastes have matured and widened considerably through the last 50+ years, and I now listen to a wide variety. I guess you could say that certain musical genres were like Brussels Sprouts and asparagus. I acquired a taste for them.

I still cringe, though, when I think back to the musically dreadful late-70s, when the Bee Gees were stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive with an endless onslaught of disco records. They and many other artists were stealing all the air time, leaving rock and rollers wondering what hit them.

Some of them figured if they couldn’t beat them, they had better join them. Thus, we found the Rolling Stones, Rod Stewart, and others—gasp—releasing disco-infused songs. They were terrible, embarrassingly so. In an effort to show their versatility, they showed just how afraid they were of losing what they thought was theirs.

The trend of crossover artists continued into the 80s, when rap and hip-hop started exploding. I recall all too badly several white artists trying desperately to include a break-out rap in the middle of one of their pop songs. This was at a time when African-Americans dominated the genre, and, well, white guys trying to emulate the style looked rather foolish. I hear white men can’t jump, either.

Here we are today, and we see crossover artists once again making their statement, with a large group of pop and rap stars going country. One of the most notable among them is Beyoncé, who has seen her popularity escalate, while at the same time raising more than just a little ire among long-time country fans and others. How dare she pretend to be country and just drop in like that?

Then there’s Post Malone, the rapper who just released F-1 Trillion. I am listening to it right now as I write. Wow! What a great album. But I think Mr. Malone is not as likely to draw the disdain of country fans, because he went about things completely differently. Rather than pretty much flying solo like Beyonce did, he partnered with numerous established country stars for duets on the album.

Now that’s a way to endear yourself with the country crowd. If Luke, Blake, Lainey, Hank, Morgan, and the rest were willing to do this, then he must be legit.

I’ll be honest. I never liked Post Malone as a rapper. That’s just not my style of music. The album before this, though, marked his transition as he ventured into a more polished pop sound. And now I hear a twang in his delivery, urban poetry gone to the boondocks. Keep it classy, Post. This is good.

And you might be wondering what an aging rock and roller like me is doing fawning over a country album. While I never started out liking country per se, I did love country rock, as in the Eagles. I also grew up playing Southern Gospel on the piano at church, so I knew the Nashville Number System and could play in any key to match the range of the vocalist or choir.

Today, I love me some Texas Red Dirt Music. Why, just a week ago I saw Band of Heathens and West Texas Exiles in Lubbock, and have seen Blackberry Smoke—too country for rock and roll, too rock and roll for country—six times. Turn it up.

The question is how music listeners will react in the long run, though. Will Beyoncé retain her diva crown? Will Post Malone keep topping the charts? And will all this great new music cause Dr. Gerlich to take up line dancing?

The music we listen to is as much a consumer behavior matter as the kind of products we buy. We build our playlists with what we like, and tune in to satellite radio stations that closely match our interests. Everything else can just keep out.

Beyoncé and Post Malone certainly did not need the money, but they did want to hop on the country train. And 45 years ago, the Stones, Rod Stewart, and others did the same with disco. As much as I hated the latter, I’m OK with the former. Maybe it’s because I like country far more than disco.

I don’t listen to Black Sabbath and Deep Purple much these days. I still like their music, but I have grown far beyond just one item in my musical diet. Sabbath’s front man Ozzy Osbourne was a real trip to see back in ’79. Sadly, I never saw Deep Purple, and now their amazing keyboardist is dead.

All I know is I am enjoying this smorgasbord, and I hope that the country fans whose knickers are in a twist figure out how to lighten up a bit. I’m practically old enough to be Post Malone’s grandfather, but I’m digging what he’s doing. As long as people are humming a happy tune, regardless of who wrote it or performed it, what could go wrong?

Dr “Finer Things” Gerlich

Audio Blog

#marketing #country music #music #Beyonce #Post Malone

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la-appel-du-vide · 1 year ago

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09•02•23 - Lake Powell, and the day we could have died

Since we didn't make it to Lake Powell last year, it was extra important to get out there this year. Beach already had Labor Day weekend off for her birthday, so we decided to make that work! Jason hasn't ever been to the slot canyons at Powell, so she was excited to show him some of our favorites!

Luke Bryan getting rescheduled threw off our original plan of getting to head down to Powell Thursday night after work, so that we could actually be in Powell on her birthday, but we readjusted and made it work. We spent Friday morning celebrating her birthday here, with a group breakfast at Jeremiah's where Kena and I could give her our gift (new bluetooth running headphones). Then Beach, Jason, B, and I went down to Boondocks to mini golf. Beach won both games, which is fitting for her birthday activity haha.

We ran home to get a little work done, and pack, and then Jason, Beach, and I made the long drive down to Powell. We did stop at a Chinese restaurant in SLC on the way, so that they could check it out as a possibility for their rehearsal dinner. But otherwise, it was a pretty straight-forward drive down. B decided he wasn't up for coming this year, which is totally understandable given how busy we've been. He loves Powell, but doesn't like to spend that much time on a wave runner, especially when riding doubles. So it was just the three of us!

We checked into our hotel at about midnight, and it was the first time we stayed in a hotel rather than an Airbnb. It was nice though, and I'd stay there again. We were all ready for sleep before an early morning to pick up the wave runners!

We were able to grab breakfast at the hotel first, and they had waffle makers! I was thrilled. It's been so long since they've had those at a continental breakfast, and it always brings me back to that excitement I felt seeing that as a kid. Then we picked up the wave runners, stopped at Maverik for snacks for the day, and went off to launch. We couldn't pick them up until 8, so we were launching at a busier time, but the wait still wasn't awful. Beach still backs the trailer like a champ, and everything went very smoothly getting them in the water.

The first stop of every Lake Powell trip is over to the dam, for the first dip of the trip! So that's exactly what we did. The water is nice and warm, but still refreshing, so it was great. Then we had to brave the channel, which is always a nightmare hahah. I was not mad to have my own wave runner this year, and even less mad to not have to ride with Beach while she tries to hit waves as hard as she can hahah. Good luck out there, Jason. We filled him in on how badly she hurt me the last time!

We knew flash floods were "probable" and weren't planning to visit any slot canyons that day, but when we got out on the water, it was such a gorgeous, clear day that we decided it might be worth a shot. That way, we could split up the slot canyons, doing one per day as usual, to help preserve gas. Antelope Canyon is always the one we do for Day One, so we started looking for it.

After a while, we realized that we had gone way too far. We forgot our map, so we were going off memory alone, and were both mixed up. Beach suggested that we just go on and find Labyrinth Canyon, since we were probably close by that point, but I said that I didn't think it was worth trying to find without a map, since we couldn't even find Antelope Canyon - and that's the easy one.

We ended up deciding to go back to find Antelope, but drove through Navajo Canyon in the meantime. You can always count on finding nice, still water at the end, where you can cruise SO fast over the glassy surface, and that's my favorite thing in the world. We played there for a while, and then made our way back out. We were scouring the shoreline looking, and eventually figured out our mistake. When we actually did find it, we couldn't believe we'd missed it! It was so obvious.

We drove down the canyon, and found that Antelope Canyon was as mucky and thick as Labyrinth was last year, so a bit of swimming was required - so gross.

While we were beaching the machines, there were so many people hanging out, either kayaking in or out. It still seemed like pretty clear weather, so we started hiking in, with a few other people. As we went along, clouds started coming in. It began sprinkling, and we kept asking each other if we should turn back. But we'd kind of look to Jason as the flash flood expert, and he kept saying, "Well, if it rains any harder, we'll turn back." So we kept going. The rain would stop and start, and we'd get some good thunder every once in a while, but we just kept going. Finally, we decided that it was probably smart to turn around. I'm not sure what finally got us to do it, but we turned around to head back out. As we were walking, the rain picked up a bit. Jason noticed the water accumulating into a stream on the canyon floor, and advised us to pick up the pace. We were feeling fine though, making jokes about how "funny" it would be if we all died in a flood just weeks from the wedding and things like that. As it started raining harder, we started jogging, and Jason started filming - not sure what inspired him to do that, but I'm glad he did.

At the beginning of the video, we're all still laughing. My flip flop broke, so I was jogging barefoot - which didn't feel great with so many rocks and a lot of debris. But as time goes on, it starts to get REALLY scary. The rain started coming down STRONG, and there were waterfalls pouring in on us from all directions. In my mind, a flash flood happened because there was a wall of water behind you, which probably can happen too, but I never considered that the canyon just floods from water pouring down the walls. You can feel the moment in the video when things get tense. We stop laughing, and start asking each other if we're scared. The river we were running through started getting deeper, and stronger. My lungs were on fire, but by this point I really believed our lives were in danger. Every time we'd round a corner, I'd hope and pray that it was the last one and we'd see our wave runners waiting, but it was a let down over and over again.

At one point, I rounded the corner and found a massive river running perpendicular to the canyon, because of a HUGE muddy waterfall coming down. Because it was running the opposite way of the canyon, I thought that was the shoreline, and I didn't see our waverunners. My heart sunk, thinking we were going to be trapped. I turned around to look at Beach and Jason, and he told me they were further, and to keep going. I was so scared to run across that powerful river, in case it took my feet out from under me, but I did it. We were all soaked, and shaking, and so scared. I had so much adrenaline running through my body. In the video, you hear Beach's little voice say, "I'm scared" and you know it's real. There's a point of the video where Jason is showing the massive waterfall, and Beach says, "We need to get going." And Jason very calmly says, "Yeah, we should get going." And that's so funny now, but wow, scary.

I can't really describe the terror of thinking we could really die. Even when we did finally round that last corner and see the wave runners (plus two boats waiting to make sure we were ok), I didn't feel like we were in the clear. We threw ourselves into the water, muck and all, and started swimming for our lives. As soon as we were able to, we jumped on and started the machines, and CRUISED out of there. I was still waiting for a massive wall of water to come swallow us up. After we'd made a few turns, we calmed down and just sat there trying to calm down. None of us could get over what we'd just been through. My whole body was shaking. The point is, take flash flood warnings seriously. It is not worth it. Even if it "seems" like a nice day - believe me. It's not worth the risk.

We ate some candy to get some blood sugar going again, and as Jason put it, they were the "best peach-o's we have ever tasted." A near-death experience sure makes you appreciate things more! I will admit that once we were safe, it was awing to be in a tight canyon like that, and just see all of the waterfalls pouring down all around us. It felt so magical - like a scene straight out of a movie.

After we'd calmed down and enjoyed the waterfalls for a bit, we made out way out of Antelope Canyon completely. We were all feeling done for the day after what we'd been through, and it was still rainy and windy which doesn't make for great jetski weather, so we decided to turn back. Getting through the channel was absolutely miserable. The waves were massive, and the rain was hitting us like a million little sharp needles because of the wind. If we weren't done for the day before, we sure were after that. I was so relieved to load the machines and be on dry ground again. We were all freezing, so we went back to the hotel to take hot showers, and relive the trauma by watching Jason's video footage together. Then we had a well-deserved dinner, and went to bed early. The exhaustion, both mental and physical, was so real.

We had an even earlier start for day two, since we had to have the machines back and turned in by 5, and there was still a lot to do! We skipped breakfast, and just got snacks at Maverik while we filled up with gas. We got a couple of gas cans to take for the day, and strapped them onto the backs of the machines. We were a little nervous that they'd fall off or cause problems, but they never did, so that is a good hack. Launching went a little less smooth this time, since Jason and I bumped into each other, but worse things have happened so we'll take it.

We checked, and flash floods were not likely for today, and we had the green light for Labyrinth. We also talked about how much worse it would have been if we really had done Labyrinth yesterday instead of Antelope, like we considered. Labyrinth is WAY tighter, and the water level would have risen so much more quickly. It still makes me shiver even thinking about it. But we didn't, and everyone is ok. Ugh.

So we made the long drive out to Labyrinth first thing. The channel was so much more calm that early in the morning, so we made good time. There was a couple of boats there by the time we made it all the way down the canyon to the shoreline of the hike, and I've never seen boats that far down. We even swam the wave runners part of the way because of how tight the canyon gets, and they had BOATS?! Crazy. It was significantly less mucky this year. Thank goodness. We had enough of that at Antelope.

We hiked quite a lot of it, as we always do. There were some differences this year though. First of all, there were a million frogs. Big ones, baby ones... Weird. I've never, ever seen a frog in this canyon before, and now we couldn't get away from them. There were still lizards, but way more frogs. Beach pet a big frog, caught a baby frog, and caught a couple of lizards per usual haha. Second, the canyon was SO MUDDY. Obviously from the flooding, everything was still wet. We were walking through ponds and some pure mud pits, and were just getting sucked down into it. Everything became so slippery, and so much harder to hike than normal years. We all ended up pretty muddy by the end, so overall, neither slot canyon was as good as usual haha.

After we got out, we drove up to Padre Bay, which is the most picturesque spot I swear. You're surrounded by rock formations everywhere you look, and it's just amazing. We played around and tried to find some new canyons to try, but never did find what we were looking for. Jason looked at his phone and panicked about the time. He said we needed to haul out of there if we were going to make it back in time. We cruised back to the marina as fast as we could, including a miserable ride through both channels. I was hating it. My butt bones and knees were so beat from hitting some good waves the day before, and I wanted to take it slow, but apparently we were late. When we were in the final wakeless zone, I pulled out my phone to discover that Jason had been looking at UT time, not AZ time. So we had a whole other hour before we needed to be back. That sucked haha. We could have kept looking for our other canyon, or just hung out in Padre Bay for another hour, but now we didn't have time to get all the way out there again and back. So we hung out by the dam for a bit, eating snack and swimming, and then spent the last of our rental time playing around Wahweep Bay. I did get embarrassingly lost looking for our ramp for some reason - I could NOT find it, and I'd lost Beach and Jason. By the time I found them, we were 20 minutes later than we'd hoped to be loading. We went from being very early, to late, because I couldn't figure it out. Oops. But we actually loaded really quick, and were able to be back at the shop in time. No damage, hurray.

We stopped for dinner at a local chicken place, which was great - especially the mashed potatoes - before the long, long drive home. I fell asleep for quite a bit of it, but poor Jason had to drive well into the night. I was so glad to have the next day off.

So, yeah. What a trip. It's one we'll never forget, and not really for good reasons. We're now trauma-bonded for life.

So PSA: Check for flash flood warnings. Every time. And LISTEN.

Thanks.

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americaistheoldworldsblog · 2 years ago

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Rewriting History by Proving that America is the Old World

Hits the dance floor with Wolves ruled in the cinema world and at the Oscars, yet over the course of the past 25 years, the best authentic grant has focused on more than simple reversal of old legends about the Old West. America One significant course has been to look at and associate what occurred in the American West with equal places and cycles somewhere else. Withdrawing from Turner's case that the boondocks set the U.S. aside from its European roots, history specialists of the American West have rather underscored the shared characteristics among American and other "imperialisms." All the more explicitly, the build of "pilgrim expansionism" has arisen as a vital aspect for arranging the American involvement with a more extensive worldwide setting. Further denying the American West of its uniqueness, students of history have embraced the focal point of "ethnic purging," or more awful "destruction," to figure out American developments and the going with removal and some of the time decimation of native people groups.

The most convincing western narratives written in the last 25 years go up against the intricacies of at various times. This starts with the acknowledgment of how profound that past is, with accounts that begin a long time before the West was American and with unearthings that uncover the variety and dynamism of Local America preceding the appearance of European colonizers. From archeological and different sources, history specialists have now recuperated rich precolonial universes and complex social orders that went on after Indians experienced individuals from Europe and Africa, winding around an entrancing new comprehension of how locals and rookies met and blended.

Protecting native individuals from the haughtiness of New Age sentimentalism that transforms them into ever serene, wonderful environmentalists, more up to date accounts have shown how Indians opposed European imperialism, yet additionally in certain pieces of North America completed their own developments. The best of these fresher western narratives detail also the way that delayed cooperations brought about ethnic intersections as well as ethnic cleansings. Most noticeably, this intercourse created blended race posterity, yet history specialists have likewise followed a great many trades that prompted a mixing of societies. Such blends have stayed a sign of western American societies in the twentieth and presently the 21st hundreds of years

The historical backdrop of the American West, similar to the craft of the American West, isn't what it used to be. Most likely, many mourn the progressions and pine for the legends that western accounts (and western craftsmanship) once celebrated. In any case, in the event that we are to get a handle on the West's complex developments and sort out how we can live respectively, and live reasonably, around here, we don't require one-layered stories. Maybe we want accounts and craftsmanship that regard the past, wrestling, as students of history and specialists must, with the intricacies that challenge us still.

We consider our right to speak freely and the press to be holy. Be that as it may, these equivalent sacred freedoms have as of late been abused by those attempting to misguide our youngsters in regards to various badly arranged authentic bits of insight to support legislative issues and religion. Opportunity to express our genuine thoughts isn't equivalent to "opportunity to educate." As a parent, a pediatrician and a teacher, I feel that educational committees and branches of training ought to be held to a better quality of "truth telling" than a platform speaker. Purposely distorting our set of experiences or language comprises scholarly provocation of our kids and it is continuing at this point.

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soyouareandrewdobson · 4 years ago

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Alex ze Pirate “Mini Review” 1: About Male Abuse

Alex ze Pirate is in my opinion the WORST “comic” series Dobson has ever written up until this point (date for archives: June 2020). Sure, I agree with people that his “hot take” comics on Star Wars Fans, political issues and virtue signaling for the sake of making brownie points are worse overall cause they are uneducated propaganda that give insight in how much of a loathsome human being driven by spite he genuinely is, but Alex “offends” me as someone who enjoys fiction. It may not be the worst thing ever written, but it just does so many things wrong in terms of storywriting, storytelling, presentation and creating fictional characters, I can’t help but wonder what went wrong that Dobson even remotely thought this thing would be a “successful” comic series to establish him as a creator. Cause I can tell you, having read the likes of Don Rosa’s work on Disney, Hilda, Cleopatra in Space, Spirou, Asterix, One Piece (of which I will talk a lot in my next few posts) and many more, I can confirm by comparison that Dobson’s pirates as a published comic would have only one use on the public shelves: alternative for toilet paper during the COVID-19 epidemic

Believe me, I would love to write an in depth analysis of everything wrong with Alex ze Pirate, from the lazy artwork up to even the publication history of this trainwrack. But doing so would take a lot of time and there is one individual part of this I think deserve at least extra attention. Something that in my opinion embodies quite well a lot of things I consider wrong with this comic. So before I am going over Alex in its entirety (and believe me, the day will come) let me just talk within the next few posts about one certain aspect and story of the comic, that genuinely got me to loath this comic to the core: Sam the Cabin Boy and “his” own individual story Dobson drew in three parts around 2010.

For starters, lets talk who Sam is: Sam is one of the main characters in the comic and actually the first person who joined Alex and Peggy in the initial pages of Legends, the “original” form of Alex ze Pirate.

See, back in 2004, Dobson released Alex ze Pirate in form of a single comic volume called “Legends” which features Alex trying to recruit a crew. The thing is around 78 pages thick and based on what I saw pretty terribly paced. For comparison: When Luffy in One Piece got his crew together, he spend multiple volumes and at least three minor story arcs to get Zoro, Nami, Sanji and Usopp to join him. All while also giving us good insight into the kind of people his new crewmates were (especially Sanji’s and Nami’s backstory got to me), defeating the likes of Buggy and Captain Black, meeting Dracula Mihawk and defeating one of the biggest bastards Eichiro Oda ever created in form of Arlong. What is the story how Sam joins the crew? An orphanage organizes an auction and sells kids off. Which I assume was even illegal in pirate times, so kudos for already showing us how despicable the world of Alex ze Pirate is to begin with and how much it deserves to be nuked in some sort of alien invasion.

Sam also doesn’t really get anything to do when he is introduced, just helping Alex escape on a small boat. Which is weird because he does not know her at all, she is just some stranger who bought him off and has no means to keep him in check, so why even bother following her and not let the mob get rid of Alex?

Anyway, I wish I could tell more about Sam’s involvement in Legends, but I don’t have really more than some scans of it in the beginning and near the end. So I don’t know his involvement in the rest of the volume. I also can’t say how he plays out in volume two, because that does not exist at all. Cause for reasons I will never understand, Dobson just abandoned the idea of telling a “coherent” and ongoing story with Alex ze Pirate and instead went to his colored one page comics/strips with it, turning it into what some people called “Garfield with Pirates” (which I consider a genuine insult towards any newspaper comic out there, even something as Boondocks). And the first thing we see of Sam in “classic” Alex ze Pirate?

The perverted dwarf of the crew showing of his shota underwear so that Alex and Sam stop bickering who is the cutest, leaving him embarrassed and humiliated.

Which kinda sums up his role in the comic to a t. Cause this is what Sam is: He is the buttmonkey of the crew. And honestly, I would not have a total problem with Sam being a buttmonkey, if a) he wasn’t it all the time, b) he would actually do something to deserve any form of humiliation and c) if the other characters in this comic itself would not be some of the biggest assholes I have ever seen, who get away with abusing the poor lad.

See, here is the problem: In a crew featuring a choleric homophobic soulless ginger

A black rat person who wants to fuck the ginger even without her consent

A furry abomination that has the same brain wavelengths as Chris Chan

And a perverted dwarf who tries to impersonate Happosai from Ranma 1/2

Sam is the only decent person in the entire crew. He works hard, he even questions the morality of his friends at times, he is honest, he is not perverted, almost good to the point of childish innocence and he has a very humble “goal” which is he wants to own his own piece of gold. Not even a big pile of treasure, just one single coin would be enough for him.

So he is likeable and relatable. In fact, if anything goes by, he may have been one of the most popular ones in the comic. And yet he is the one who gets constantly abused by “fate” and his friends, because as Dobson would say it, he is supposed to be the buttmonkey. There is just one problem: People do not necessarily like buttmonkeys.

I can primarily speak only for myself here, but I hope what I have to say resonates with others too. See, I get it: A character who is the butt of a joke can be fun. Like Daffy in Duck Amuck. But there is a fine line where a character being humiliated for the sake of a joke is fun (and perhaps even deserved because of his own shortcomings or deeds/actions that make the humiliation sort of kharmic, like lets say Johnny Bravo) and a character being humiliated to the point it feels disproportional, unfunny and mean spirited if not outright sadistic, can be crossed. Take Meg Griffin from Family Guy for example whose only “purpose” for existing within the last 12+ years is to get shat on by her family and the writers. People have no idea for a plot with her, so what do they do? Have her father physically and emotionally abuse her, fart in her face for what is supposed to count as a joke and then add additional insult to it by acknowledging that they are only doing this, because they have no other idea for her and think abuse is fun. Let me just tell you from experience, it is not.

And that is essentially what Sam is: He is the Meg Griffin of Alex ze Pirate, used by his creator as the butt of very unfunny jokes, even if he does not deserve any of the things said or done to him. Want to see some examples?

How about the description Dobson gives Sam within the introduction of one of his volumes, showing how little Dobson as the creator even cares for him.

Why is he called an unworthy “slob” if he is the only one who actually works? Shouldn’t a slob be someone like Dobson, who can’t even take care of himself anymore? Also the confirmation that he was kidnapped at the age of 16. And as we have no clarification how much time passed between Legends Vol. 1 and anything afterwards, that means that in a way Alex is a child abuser.

And now, here some examples by the rest of the cast. Like Uncle Peggy framing him for all sorts of his perverted actions and even trying to kill him for no apparent reason?

Alex trying to kill him with chicken pox…

…Destroying all his worldly posessions which is hilarious because he is a poor orphan…

…Essentially describing him as worthless because he was born with an Y-chromosome…

… doing the kind of thing Dobson claims women would never do to man, using their sex appeal to hurt them…

…forcing him to do some unnecessary and rather petty work for her in a physics defying manner (seriously, the way he holds the axe does not compute with how he swings it. Try it out yourself)

… stealing his food and just being a cruel sadistic cunt to him just because it is fun.

Which is “funny” in so far as that there are a few comics indicating she would jump his dick and ride it like a little pony if she could.

By the way, Talus and Atea are not better. None of them calls Alex out on her bullshit on average, Atea uses Sam to trigger traps in one story arc…

And Talus, the closest to a “friend” he is supposed to have, once for no apparent reason made him dig through his litterbox

And don’t get me even started when the characters decide to gang up on Sam, to the point he gets sexually harassedor is called to be less worth as a human being than the dirt you find in your belly button

Fuck’s sake, even in fanart everyone gangs up on him, even the freaking big bad of the story everyone is supposed to hate or be afraid of

Bottom line, Sam is an abuse victim played for laughs in this comics. And just to clarify, I do not think this was Dobson’s intention. But if the character is undeservingly the butt of jokes for the majority of over 120 strips, it turns nasty. The way Sam is treated, I just find disgusting and indictive of just how unlikable any other character in this comic is to the point I do not want to see this being turned into a proper “franchise”. And I assume others were disgusted by it too, cause Dobson eventually decided to make a story more or less addressing the treatment Sam receives, while also attempting to prove that deep down the assholes with starring roles in this trainwrack care for him. How did this play out? Well, I am going to talk about it, so likely not well. If you want to see the details, grab yourself some popcorn and take a toilet break before we tackle part 2 of this thing.

#andrew dobson #so you are a cartoonist #sjw #comics #comic #webcomic #alex ze pirate #sam the cabin boy #legends #tom preston #disgusting #male abuse #unfunny

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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1041

survey by chasingghosts

What is the age gap between you and your parents? 27 for both. Technically, 26 years with my mom since she had yet to celebrate her birthday when she had me, but she was going to turn 27 all the same. Guh. I can’t believe I’m just five years away from that and I’m still nowhere near building my own family.

How many bathrooms does your house have? Is this enough? Two. I’d say it’s enough. Two people in the family rarely have to go to the bathroom at the same time so it works out for us.

Have you sent a letter to anyone in the past year? Yeah. I used to give Gabie a handwritten letter every Christmas along with her gifts. I still plan on writing her one, but obviously the content will be vastly different now.

Have you ever video chatted with someone you met online? I did this with Carley a handful of times; we’d video chat when I came home from school which was around the time she would get ready for school. She was such an extrovert who was so lovely and bubbly around me, and I’ve always felt bad that she had to contend with my shy ass with my mic always muted lol.

Are you hungry or thirsty right now? I’m neither but I can go for a light meal right now, which is great because I got myself a chicken barbecue sandwich and a caramel macchiato from Starbucks as a treat for myself tonight :) I went through five video call meetings just for today alone, went through several breakdowns while at work, and am also on my period, so I thought I deserved a break.

When was the last time you ate something, and what did you eat? Literally just had a bite from my sandwich.

Have you ever seen the film Boondock Saints? Nope. Sounds nothing like my type of film.

Do you own a pair of gumboots? Nah. I don’t like walking in floods anyway, so I don’t plan on getting a pair.

What colour is your favourite mug? Copper.

How far away from your town/city is your state's capital city? I already live in my province’s capital.

Have you ever worked somewhere where you had to clean the toilets? I haven’t.

Do you know anyone named Doug? No, not really a common name here.

What cut of jeans is your favourite and why? Do mom jeans count as a cut? I’ve been all over those throughout 2020. They’re stylish and yet so comfy, which are two words that seldom go together.

Do you rate people's attractiveness on a scale of 1-10? Uhhhhhhhh unless a friend asked me to rate someone they know, I don’t really think in these terms.

Name a few of your favourite actors. Kate freaking Winslet. Also Kristen Stewart, Emma Stone, Audrey Hepburn, Brie Larson, Florence Pugh, and Eddie Redmayne. I’d name Timothée Chalamet but I have yet to see a work of his.

Do you collect anything, or have you ever? The first item I ever collected was notebooks. In my past relationship (is it obvious I’m not over it yet and probably never will be? Ha) I initially liked to collect receipts from places we went to and ate at. I’d also like to be able to grow a collection of wrestling memorabilia, particularly action figures and belts. It’s not really a life goal of mine but it’d still be a cool thing to achieve.

So, how has your week been so far? I mean it’s only Monday, so nothing much. I cried and broke down a lot today which wasn’t a good start, but tomorrow’s a holiday so no work; and for Thursday I was invited to the Christmas party of the department I initially interned at and apparently they’ll be sending over a Christmas kit over to my place so I’m looking forward to these! It’s super touching they remembered and still invited me even though I’m not a part of the team anymore, so I wouldn’t have missed the party for the world.

Is there anything that you could cry about right now? Definitely, and being on my period at the moment makes it so much easier to cry. But I already cried too much and too hard earlier today and it felt exhausting, so I’m trying to avoid it tonight.

How old were you when you learned how to tie your shoelaces? I was five. I probably would’ve made myself learn later but one of our ‘exams’ in kindergarten was to show that you know how to tie your shoelaces, so I had to ask my grandma to give me a crash course.

Have you ever slept in a car overnight? Why did you have to? Yeah. I had to pull several all-nighters in college and work at 24/7 coffee shops, but I usually gave up by around 2-3 AM and would sleep in the car by then.

When was the last time you used Facebook? Earlier this evening, but I couldn’t scroll too much because spoilers for Start Up are everyyyyyyfuckingwhere and I’m still several episodes away from the finale, which aired last night.

Do you have a PO Box or does your mail get sent straight to your house? Our mails and parcels get sent straight to our door.

Are you interested in entomology? Do you know what that is? Never been. I think it’s great that insects have a lot of capabilities and contributions that we often take for granted; but I personally find a great deal of them icky as well lol so I wouldn’t say I’m interested in this branch.

Have you ever had to claim insurance? What for? Hmm I don’t think so. Not my own nor my parents’. Do you like to listen to albums start-finish without skipping or shuffling? I’ll do this sometimes with my favorite albums, yes. Fuck knows how many times I listened to After Laughter from start to finish with no skips; it was my favorite for a while.

Do you have any unspoken enemies, or maybe frenemies? I’m not the biggest fan of Patrice, but it’s not something I broadcast to people because why would I? I’m sure she slightly does not like me too, so we’re even.

What was the last thing you broke? That would be my last phone charger cord. I’ve since had it replaced though.

Do you have a favourite state/province/territory in your country? Not necessarily an overall favorite but I do have a favorite place I’ve traveled to, which is Sagada. I need a second vacation to see if it still lives up to my expectations and if it would still be able to give me an experience as cathartic and therapeutic as my first trip there, but for the last five years it has sat on the throne.

How many vowels are in your street name? Is this question too mundane? Three. I mean I’ve never been asked this on a survey before, so I wouldn’t call it that.

What are your three top favourite flavours of ice cream? Cookies and cream, chocolate chip cookie dough, coffee.

How far away is the nearest Target? At least a couple thousand miles away.

Do you prefer Target, Kmart or Walmart? Idk and idc.

Have you ever farted in class or somewhere else you shouldn't have? No. I suppress my farts, even when I’m alone haha it’s just my least favorite bodily function.

What's your middle name? Would you change it? I’m not giving it away. I wouldn’t change it and I’m definitely not giving it up even if I get married. I’m keeping my middle name then just hyphenate my surname so that I get to keep all three names.

When was the last tie you wore heels? What was the occasion? September. Job interview for a position I didn’t really want but still chose to undergo because it was still an interview.

Do you find yourself lost for words often? I guess yeah, depression does tend to do that to me.

Did you share baths with your siblings/cousins when you were a child? Yep, I remember sharing the shower with my sister as late as when I was 10. Then puberty happened to me and I did not want to continue the practice anymore, haha.

Have you ever been a member of an online dating site? How did it go? I joined Tinder while I was in a relationship (she made an account as well at the time so it was fair game) literally just to people-watch. I wasn’t interested in cheating; I was just genuinely curious to see how the app worked. I put on a fake name, age, location and my profile photo was of a cat I saw in school so it was impossible to tell it was me.

Do you know what your neighbours even look like? I would not be able to recognize them if you lined them up with a bunch of other strangers, to tell you the truth. I’d probably be able to recognize the carpenters working on the house currently being constructed in front of ours though; they’re super nice and they’re crazy over Cooper haha.

How many siblings does your best friend have? Angela is an only child.

Do you put ketchup on your fries? No. Ketchup does not go anywhere near my fries.

Have you been lucky enough to make out with anyone in the past week? LOL lucky enough...but no, I haven’t done that in a while.

Have your parents ever worked in the agriculture business etc. on a farm? Neither have.

Do you have an ex that makes you angry with literally everything they do? No.

Are you easily susceptible to brain freeze? No but tooth sensitivity, yes. I have a certain tooth that acts up whenever I eat ice cream, and it can get soooo inconvenient and uncomfortable for a few seconds.

#survey #surveys

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thecleverdame · 5 years ago

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Caught - Part Two

Sam x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You're arrested and interrogated as an accomplice to the notorious Winchester brothers.

Warning: Talk of past violence, death of parents, murder, rape, torture and domestic abuse/violence.

Words: 2.8k

Beta: ilikaicalie

Part 3, 4 & 5 are available now on my Patreon for a monthly pledge of 2.50. This pledge includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content. >> CLICK HERE <<

You’ve had the dreams since you were a kid. They were mostly about small stuff like the weather or the score of a football game. They were vivid dreams, so mundane that you would have deemed them insignificant if it weren’t for the fact that they always came true.

It didn’t end there. Just like the visions, the other things came small and slow as you grew older. You could roll a pencil off the desk without touching it or make the lights go out without getting anywhere near the switch.

Small stuff, bad stuff, that your mother caught you doing when you were fourteen and put the kibosh to your wild imagination.

“No child of mine…” she mumbled, dragging you upstairs by the arm.

She was deeply religious, and couldn't bear the idea of you being part of something she deemed ‘the devil’. In her mind it was all the same, Ouija boards, fortune tellers and pentagrams, it was all worshipping a horned beast.

That was the road to hell and she wasn’t about to let you walk it.

Five Years Ago

Sam holds open the door of Pinkie’s Diner and follows you inside. It sounds ridiculous but he’s so close you can feel the energy coming off him as if he’s vibrating on some frequency you’re attuned to.

The smell of greasy fries and fresh coffee wash over you like a welcomed familiarity. With one hand on your arm, Sam leads the way to a back booth, ensuring that you sit before taking a seat himself. The waitress does a double-take when she gets a good look at your battered face. Her eyes shift to Sam, then his bruised knuckles.

You can only imagine what the two of you must look like. He’s working the whole pissed off hulk vibe and you look like the poster child for the domestic violence hotline.

“You kids alright?” she asks, tapping her pad with the eraser end of a pencil.

Are you alright? No, no you’re not.

“We’re fine,” Sam grunts. “Two coffees please.”

She gives you a look but doesn't say anything else before walking away.

He stares at you for a solid minute before asking the question that’s been eating him up inside. “How’d you learn how to do that?”

“Do what?” you ask quietly, dropping your head to stare at your hands. You know exactly what he’s talking about.

Sam sits silently but you feel him fixated on you, he might as well be twisting your arm. “I didn’t learn how to do anything, I just…I’ve never done anything like that before. It was always dreams and then today...I don’t know. I just watched you and I knew I could help.”

“I don’t believe you.” Sam’s hostile, imposing his own personal brand of interrogation. He snaps forward in his seat, both hands balled on the table. He looks like a wild animal, poised and at the ready to tear you apart if you so much as breathe the wrong way.

If you hadn’t spent the last twenty-four hours in a car with him you might be scared, but you’re fairly sure you make him just as nervous as he makes you.

“I don’t need you to believe me,” you growl, eyes narrowing. “You show up out of nowhere in the middle of that shit storm, kidnap me, drive me out into the boondocks and now you’re calling me a liar? You’re the one who’s fucked, buddy.”

You slap the table in frustration, the grief rising into your throat. Sam’s watching something behind you and you turn to see the waitress leaning over the counter talking to one of the patrons. They’re both staring at you, whispering to one another.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Sam continues, lowering his voice as his eyes flick back to you. “You can’t just get that strong out of nowhere. There’s no way. I worked for a year and Istill needed...help.”

“I don’t even know what that means!” you hiss. You want to be mad but you’re too tired for this shit right now. Hours of unchecked adrenaline have worn off and you’re a shell, numb and drained. Nails dig into your palms as you clench both fists. “I just came home to find-” You have to stop, choking on your own words as tears well up. “I walked into the kitchen and those two guys had my mom pinned to the fucking counter and they were cutting her. I couldn’t even scream I was so scared. The other guy was holding my dad but I knew he was already dead, there was so much blood, no one could survive that. I must have surprised them, but all I remember is being punched in the jaw and everything went black. When I opened my eyes, you were there.”

You’re sobbing quietly, so sleep deprived that you can’t even begin to control your emotions.

“It’s okay.” He sighs. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” Sam relaxes a little, reaching across the table to pat the back of your hand. “I’m sorry about your parents. I tried to get there in time. I tried to save them.”

The waitress arrives with two cups of coffee, setting them in the middle of the table.

“Anything else I can get for you two?” Indignantly she eyes Sam who looks irked by her unspoken accusation.

“You hungry?” he asks and you nod yes. “Two burgers and fries. To go, please.”

“I’d like a cheeseburger,” you add, wiping tears from your cheek with the sleeve of your shirt.

“You got it, sweetheart.” She offers you a sad little smile and walks away.

“Why don’t you tell me how the hell you did that?” you whisper, staring at him. “You pull some Chuck Norris moves and then black smoke is coming out of people. “

“You helped with that,” he counters, cocking his head.

“It’s not like I knew I could...until I did it.” You drop your head. You’ve always been so desperate to fit in. To be like everyone else. But after the last twenty-four hours, it’s never been more obvious that you couldn’t be less normal. You’re an oddity, but it seems like maybe this guy is too.

“And what exactly is it that you did, Y/N?”

“I don’t know.” You roll your eyes, tipping the back of your head against the booth. You’re exasperated and exhausted. “I just grabbed your hand, closed my eyes and concentrated and bam. Exploding, sizzling black smoke was coming out of people’s mouths.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you've never done anything like that before,” Sam insists, both hands sliding palm down across the table as he leans closer.

“I swear to God, I have no idea what’s going on. I’m scared and hungry. I can’t think anymore. Please, Sam. Just lay off for a little bit, will ya?”

This seems to strike a chord, he nods toward the motel across the parking lot. “We can get a room for a couple of hours. You can sleep if you want.”

“So we’re getting rooms together now?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Y/N,” he shakes his head, at the end of his rope as much as you are. “You’re just gonna have to trust me.”

There’s something about him. Maybe it’s his eyes, Sam has kind eyes. But you also watched him kill with the ease and precision of someone trained to do it. He might be trustworthy but he’s also lethal. “Are you going to throw me over your shoulder again if I try to leave?”

“No, I won’t try to stop you,” he confirms. Sitting back in the booth, tucking his arms under the table.

“But?” You swirl your finger in a circle. “Come on. I know there’s big ol’ but coming.”

“You need to stay with me. You’re not safe.”

“Not safe? Not safe from black smoke?”

“Among other things.”

“Wonderful,” you mutter, more to yourself than him.

A fifty dollar room and a cheeseburger later you’re feeling a little less like walking death. You shower, peeling off dirty clothes you’d rather burn than put back on. There are little splatters of blood on everything if you look close enough, even your underwear is a reminder of what happened, little red dots that soaked through your jeans.

“You think there’s a laundromat around here?” you ask, inching out of the musty bathroom with a tiny motel towel wrapped around you.

“Probably, but you can’t go like that and I can’t leave you alone.” He’s careful not to look at you, surprisingly respectful for someone who easily breaks so many other rules.

Sam digs through his things, offering you a wrinkled shirt from his backpack. “It’s clean.”

“Thanks.”

The flannel falls almost to your knees, it’s long enough that you’re willing to brave going to sleep without putting dirty panties back on. You crawl into the bed furthest from the door and watch Sam watch TV until your eyes finally close.

Present Day

“Talk to me about what your life is like?” The psychiatrist sits across the table from you. He’s an unassuming, mousy little man in his late fifties, maybe he’s older but it’s hard to get a read on him.

“Boring,” you huff, picking at the peeling laminate covering the table top.

“I find that hard to believe,” he counters, smiling softly at you. “They found your fingerprints at a break-in. That doesn’t sound boring at all to me.”

“I don’t usually participate in that part of things,” you admit, sitting back in the chair. This is an intricate dance between honesty and a story you need to weave. They already know a lot, there’s no point in denying most of it.

“Tell me then, what is your role in all of this?”

“Laundry,” you shrug, looking him in the eyes. “Cooking, cleaning, moral support.”

“So, Sam and Dean go out and do the dirty work and you what? Keep the home fires burning?”

“Pretty much.”

“That must be hard. Isolating. Do you ever stay in one place for very long?”

Is he fishing for information for the cops? You’re not sure. This could just be him honestly trying to get a handle of what your day-to-day life entails.

If only he knew. The bunker is a full-time job. It’s huge and when you’re not playing doomsday housewife, there are rooms of files to be organized and documents to be scanned and electronically catalogued. There’s always something to be done.

“Sometimes,” you admit. “When it’s safe.”

“And Sam leaves you on your own?”

“Yeah...” you nod, beginning to understand where this is headed.

“He must really trust you...to leave you alone without worrying that you’ll run away.”

“He does,” you respond simply.

“Did you ever try?”

“Try what?” Your eyes narrow, watching him jot down notes on his legal pad. “Did I try to get away from him?”

“Yes,” he confirms, pulling off his glasses to look at you. “Did you ever try to tell someone what happened to you? Or attempt an escape?”

“Yeah, a couple of times.” You smile to yourself thinking about those first months.

“And what happened?”

“The first time the men who killed my parents came for me. Sam had to save my ass yet again from certain death. And the second time he caught me and talked me into staying.”

“That must have been some conversation,” he offers quietly without looking up.

“It was.” Your mouth twitches as those memories flood back. Sam’s earnest declaration of affection and a kiss that said everything else. A sad little motel room with decaying wallpaper and the feeling of his hands on your skin. The stretch of him inside you that first time. You fucked on a squeaky mattress while Dean waited in the car for his brother to convince you to come back. “He made a lot of really good points.”

“Has he ever hurt you?” he asks, tapping the inky tip of the pen on the paper.

This is where things get...delicate.

You need them to keep you here. You’ve been in holding at the local sheriff’s office for two days now. When they do move you, it’ll be to a more secure facility. It doesn’t matter if that’s a psychiatric hospital or the county jail. Both of those places are hard to get out of. You need to stay here, where it’s easy for Sam to get to you. He’ll come for you, it’s only a matter of time. That is if he’s alive, but you have to have faith. It’s all you’ve got anymore.

If you refuse to talk about it, they’ll label you as uncooperative and formally arrest you. After processing you’d be sent to the county jail. If they think you’re nuts, finally broken after years with the Winchesters, you’ll be committed, at least for a while.

This place is best. Security is minimal, but you doubt you’ve got too much longer. They have to know that Sam will try to get you out.

“Y/N,” Dr. Harold repeats himself. “I asked if Sam has ever hurt you.”

If you say no, if you try to explain that the people in the video they have are not you and Sam, he’ll think you’re delusional. You have to admit to at least some of it, despite how sick the very idea makes you feel.

“Not on purpose.”

There. That’s honest.

“I’m going to show you some photos and I want you to tell me what happened.” He opens a folder, pulling the first page. He turns it in your direction sliding it across the table. “You were calling yourself Tabitha Ripley.”

They found your fake IDs. They have more than you realized, every fake name you’ve used over the past five years.

You’re staring at a hospital admission form and three grainy photos from various angles. Your face is beaten and swollen. Two black eyes swelled shut and a broken nose that made your entire face blow up like a balloon. You looked like that for weeks.

And it wasn’t just your face, you’d broken an arm and a collar bone in that fight. It was a vampire that intended to avenge the death of his nest. It followed Sam home and nearly killed you before Dean came back early and saved your bacon. That was the attack that finally spurred Sam to teach you how to defend yourself.

“I, umm,” you gulp, remembering of the weight of the creature on top of you with its arm around your throat. You’d thought that was it, you were going to die on the shag carpet of an abandoned house. “I was mugged.”

“I see.” He makes a mark on his paper. “What about this one? You were calling yourself Holly Costagan, I believe.”

“Shit,” you breathe out. You’ve tried to put this incident out of your mind. Out of all the awful things that have happened to you, this was by far the most traumatic.

They were hunters. Four men who were convinced that Sam was the enemy, that he was going to end the world somehow. When they couldn’t find Sam they took you as their consolation prize and tortured you. The black and blue fingerprints around your wrist, the burn on your forearm, and the remaining scar are a painful reminder of the older man holding your arm over the stove.

There are still several dozen scars on your back from the tiny cuts they made, insistent on asking questions you didn’t have the answers to. They had you for a week before Sam broke down the door and killed all four of them.

Your hands shake as you trace over the hospital photos.

“This wasn’t Sam.” You close your eyes, unable to look at them anymore.

“Another mugging?” The doctor asks, his tone is gentle, he wants you to share. He probably thinks he can help you if he can get you to open up.

“Yeah,” you confirm staring at your hands. “Another mugging.”

“We can help, you know,” he offers. “You’re not the only one. Lots of women don’t leave. You don’t need to worry about what people will think, we’re professionals and we understand what you’ve been through. We have doctors who can help you heal. But we need you to cooperate with the police. I can’t do anything for you if you're in prison.”

This is it, right where you need to be. They think you’re abused but rational. They’ll keep you here for questioning and you can stall, for days if need be. A traumatized victim can ask for breaks, draw out the process long enough for Sam and Dean to come and get you.

“Okay,” you nod, looking at him with a wilted smile. “What do you want to know?”

#sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x you #sam winchester smut

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