#this and 'do it for her' are the best Simpsons moments for me

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 44 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley swallows his pride and seeks out a conversation with Admiral Simpson, but he's surprised by the response he gets. You keep everyone on their toes, and you do it so effortlessly, Bradley knows it's time to go shopping. And he uses Skittles as the perfect cover.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

When Bradley parked at work a little early on Monday, he sat in the Bronco for a few extra minutes. He had just witnessed you and Noah making breakfast together, and it was making it really hard to be away from you right now. When he walked into the kitchen, you were brewing coffee and singing the dinosaur song with his son while the two of you spread that weird avocado stuff that you liked so much on some toast. He had started to love it, too, and Noah would eat anything you made. 

He removed his aviators and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was so much he wanted to get done this week, including looking at a few engagement rings, but he knew better than to make any sort of excuses to get some time alone. That had nearly backfired on him when he went to get Skittles. He was going to have to get creative somehow.

When he pulled out his phone to call the animal shelter about getting Skittles' cast removed, he froze. Across the parking lot, Nat and Javy were both getting out of his car. "Interesting," he muttered to himself as he watched his best friend groping their coworker, and he grimaced. He'd already seen too much. 

"Hello, this is the San Diego shelter. How can I help you?"

Bradley nearly dropped his phone; he'd forgotten he was making the call. "Yeah, hi. I need to schedule an appointment to have my dog's cast removed?"

"Oh! Are you talking about the Yorkie?"

He smiled as he climbed out onto the already hot pavement. "Yeah. Skittles. I'm hoping she has sufficiently healed."

"Why don't you stop in on Wednesday and we can check her out."

"Sounds good, thanks," he replied, following Nat and Javy at a very conservative distance. But apparently he wasn't cautious enough. 

"So," Nat sighed once Bradley joined her in the hangar, "you saw Javy and I in the parking lot." It wasn't a question, so he decided to just nod and roll his eyes in response. "Oh, come on, Rooster. I'm just having some fun."

"Look at him," Bradley muttered, glancing to where the man in question was smiling at Nat. "Are you serious right now? You want to make him cry or something?"

Now she was the one rolling her eyes. "I'm not taking advice from you. You're historically terrible at dating."

"I'm doing a pretty good job now," he said, smiling as he thought about you.

"You can't even get Cyclone off your girl."

Bradley covered his face with one big palm. "You noticed that?"

Nat laughed. "Everyone at the botanic gardens on Saturday night noticed that."

"Fuck," he groaned. "If she wasn't so young and so fucking hot, I wouldn't be about to embarrass myself by trying to get him to let me fly in the air show."

She just shook her head as she reached for her helmet and muttered, "Oh, cry me a river."

"Hey." Bradley turned just in time to see Javy greeting the two of them like a puppy looking for Nat's attention. He was honestly worse than Skittles at the moment. "The guys are talking about a beach day this weekend. You know, since the summer is ending."

"We don't need to do another beach day. We live in San Diego," Nat replied as she sipped the coffee she wasn't supposed to have inside the hangar. "It's the same season all year round."

Javy laughed like she was a comedian, and Bradley looked back and forth between the two of them, completely baffled by this dynamic. There's no way you and he made a couple this wild. 

"Yeah, but it's still the end of August," Javy said, now smiling at Nat as if she was the most adorable thing in the world. "Rooster, you can bring your girl and your kid. It'll be fun."

"You know what," he replied, "I think I'll go if Nat goes."

Then Bradley strolled away as they started arguing, because he saw Admiral Simpson on his way to the tower. He just needed to get Cyclone alone for a few minutes, swallow his pride, and try to head Jake off for the air show. The opportunity arose after lunch when Bradley caught him checking his phone outside the rec room door.

"Admiral Simpson, sir," he greeted before grinding his back teeth while he thought about you. "May I have a word?"

Cyclone glanced up before pocketing his phone, a look of vague amusement on his face. "Lieutenant. What can I do for you?"

"It's about the upcoming air show. Sir. I was hoping you could tell me if you'd made selections regarding who would be flying in it."

His look of amusement grew. "I have not. I believe that was on my agenda for today or tomorrow." He paused before adding, "I've been meaning to thank you for that glass of bourbon on Saturday night. Woodford Reserve is one of my favorites."

Bradley remained unflinching. Although he had no idea what Admiral Simpson was talking about, he thought it better to simply agree with him. "Yes. The Woodford Reserve." 

He nearly took a step backwards when the other man started laughing. "You'll have to thank your girlfriend for me, too. And I'm assuming the reason you're here is because you want to fly in the air show?"

"Yes...sir," Bradley replied slowly, feeling very off balance now that Cyclone was being so agreeable. 

Still chuckling, he said, "I'll see what I can do," before turning and walking away. 

Once he was out of earshot, Bradley pushed through the door to the rec room as he muttered, "What the fuck was that?"

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

It was almost fun for you to pick Noah up from daycare now. Not that you would ever admit that out loud. But the enjoyment you found in the way Casey pouted at you was a bit of a guilty pleasure, and besides, you got to have Noah greet you like you were the most exciting and interesting person in the world.

"Mommy!" he called out as he ran across the lobby and into your arms. "Guess what my craft is!"

"A dinosaur?" you asked as you shot an extremely fake smile at Casey before heading outside.

"Nope."

"A... dog? Did you make Skittles?" you asked as you put him in your car.

"Nope."

"The solar system?"

"Nope."

"Hmm. Will you give me a hint?" you asked, brushing his soft curls away from his forehead and giving him a kiss. But he was already unzipping his bag and pulling out his newest painting. There was a big, light blue shape that looked like it could have been Bradley's Bronco along with a man who appeared to be sporting a mustache. "Is that Daddy?"

"Yes!"

Then you noticed a little brown blob. "Is that Skittles?"

"Yes! She's his best friend!"

You laughed, because Noah wasn't wrong. Skittles seemed to love Bradley the most, and as much as he tried to fight it, the dog won him over. "She is," you agreed before buckling him in. "She's his best friend besides Aunt Natasha."

Noah shook his head. "She doesn't count, because she's an Aunt."

"Right, right," you said, not wanting to fight his childhood logic when Skittles wasn't even a human. "You're completely right. Should we go home?"

You started singing the dinosaur song as you drove, and because of a detour, you had to drive past the park where Meredith had chased you down. A shiver rippled through your body as you remembered falling and scraping up your arm in your haste to get Noah safely in your car. You hated coming home this way. There was a reason you never did it.

"Mommy, why did you stop singing?"

You glanced in the mirror at Noah's face. "Sorry! Where were we? The part about how the dinosaur stomp, stomp, stomps?"

Bradley was already home when you pulled into the driveway, and you found him dozed off on the couch with Skittles curled up on his chest. Two seconds later, he was jolting awake with the dog in his hand as Noah ran for him. "Daddy! I made you! Out of paint!"

"Cool," Bradley told him, pulling Noah onto his broad chest as well. "And how's Mommy?" he asked, his voice a little raspier just for you. "How was your day, Princess?"

You shook off the last remaining thoughts of Casey and Meredith as you leaned down to kiss him. "Pretty good." He chased your lips for more, but his arms were too full of Noah and Skittles for him to be able to reach for you. "Looks like you're still tired from the weekend," you said with a wink.

"I had a nice conversation with Cyclone today." 

"Oh? About what?" you asked as you started to head to the kitchen to make dinner. 

His expression remained completely neutral as he told you, "Bourbon. Woodford Reserve, to be specific." When you said nothing, he added, "We can chat about it later."

So you made spaghetti, knowing you'd been found out. You had been tipsy on Saturday night at the retirement party, but you were pretty sure you remembered what you did. Probably. You hoped Bradley wasn't mad at you over it, but he seemed to be in a good mood as he ate dinner and offered to give Noah a bath while you walked Skittles. 

She was stubborn for you at first, plopping down on the front porch and whimpering for Bradley while you tugged gently on her leash. "Come on. You're making me look bad! You were my idea. Mine and Noah's." When she remained in her spot, you had to reach into your pocket and say, "Treat?" That did the trick, and you got her to take a slow lap around the block with you while you broke a milkbone into little bites and gave it to her. 

When you returned home, Skittles bounded into the house to get to Bradley where he was sitting on the bathroom floor, looking comically enormous with Noah's rubber duck in his hand. You stood in the doorway and watched him automatically reach down to pet the little pup, taking caution with her casted leg while he rinsed the shampoo out of Noah's hair. 

"You want to go to the beach this weekend, Bub?" he asked softly. "With Aunt Natasha?"

"Can Skittles come?" Noah asked, and you watched Bradley place a soft kiss on his wet forehead that left you reeling. Suddenly you couldn't wait for Noah to be in bed so you could have him all to yourself. 

"Maybe. If she gets her cast off on Wednesday," he replied softly as the dog fully plopped down with her head on his thigh. 

"Daddy?" you asked from your spot in the doorway. It was almost a whine, and when he looked up at you, you were certain he knew what you were thinking about by the little smirk on his lips.

He reached into the tub to drain the water as he asked, "Do you need some attention?"

You just nodded, still in your scrubs from work, but you felt too warm now as you pressed your thighs together. "Yes."

"Fifteen minutes, and then you can have it," he replied with an edge to his voice. "Can you wait that long?"

"I can try," you murmured before you turned to go into Noah's room and get his dinosaur pajamas ready. Anything to expedite bedtime. You listened while Bradley took his time reading three stories, and then you kissed Noah's forehead before you tried to pull Bradley toward the hallway.

He chuckled and whispered, "I'll meet you on the couch."

"Oooh, the couch," you said before running from the room. Before you could even decide what you wanted to do, Bradley was behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and tickling your neck with his mustache.

"I kind of miss those nights when I would help you study."

You moaned softly. "Anatomy really is your specialty."

You felt him pull his right hand away from your body, but before you could complain, it reappeared in front of you with a bag of Skittles on his palm. When you spun in his arms and kissed him, you whispered, "You're so sweet."

Bradley lifted you up and took you the few steps to the couch where you settled in straddling his lap while you opened your candy. "If you're this excited about something I picked up at the gas station, I wonder what you'll do if I buy you something a little more expensive."

You met his soft eyes and leaned in to kiss him. "How much more expensive are we talking?" you asked, treating him to the orange Skittle you pulled out of the bag. He parted his lips and you slipped it between them, watching his jaw work as he chewed it up. 

"A lot more expensive," he replied as you ate three candies. "Hey, this is a 50/50 relationship here, Princess."

You shoved a small handful into his mouth and kissed his cheeks as he sputtered and chewed. "I'll share everything I have with you. Too bad I don't have much."

Bradley swallowed down the treat and reached for your free hand. "You give me everything I need. Everything I want, too."

You basked in the warmth of his words as your eyes closed, and a welcome heat crept into your cheeks. "I love you."

"Then I think you'll love what I'm planning on buying for you," he whispered as his mustache grazed your chin and jaw. 

You grinned, hoping you already knew what he was talking about, but too afraid to say it out loud. So you pushed the thought from your mind and scooted a little closer toward him on his lap. "What's this I'm hearing about a beach day? And Skittles getting her cast off? This is all news to me."

He didn't miss a beat as he wrapped his big hands around your hips and said, "What's this I'm hearing about some bourbon at the retirement party? It's all news to me."

"Oh," you whispered softly before eating more Skittles, buying yourself a little time to think. "Well, you see... I wasn't exactly sober."

"You're joking," he deadpanned. 

You rolled your eyes and shoved more candy into his mouth. "I may have had a glass of bourbon sent over to Admiral Simpson, courtesy of Lieutenant Bradshaw and his girlfriend..."

After a few quiet blinks, Bradley's head tipped back in laughter so loud that Skittles the pup came running into the room. "You didn't!" Bradley said. "I have to work with that man!" 

"Somebody had to make the big move, Daddy! It cleared the tension!"

He met your eyes, still shaking his head and smirking. "It also made you look like Daddy's good little girl."

Your heart skipped around in your chest at his words, and you set your candy aside in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck. "Am I not? Daddy's good little girl?"

"Oh, you absolutely are," he replied as he lifted your top inch by inch. "I just never thought my boss's boss would see it that way." 

You raised your hands up in the air, eager to lose your shirt, but he took his sweet time about it. "Daddy."

"You can be patient," he whispered, smiling when he saw your purple bra. "Pretty." Your top dropped to the floor as he cupped you through the lace, finding your nipples right away. "You feel like going to the beach on Saturday?"

Bradley's lips found the tops of your breasts, and you could no longer formulate real words. You just hummed in response already knowing he was going to take expert care of you right now and on Saturday as well.

"You could wear your purple bikini and tell all the other guys to fuck off," he said as he ran his nose softly along your skin while he unhooked your bra and let it fall next to your top. 

"Would you like that?" you asked as your fingers tangled up in his hair. He answered you by nodding as he took your nipple between his lips. Bradley was all big hands on your bare skin and just the perfect amount of roughness. "Oh god," you whined. 

And then he had you on your back in the middle of the area rug with his body over yours. His thigh was rubbing you through your thin pants, and you bucked up gently against him as his heavy weight pressed deliciously against your body. "I love you," he grunted as you tugged at his hair. 

"I love you so much, Daddy," you gasped as he yanked your pants and underwear down and off, leaving you in only your socks. He fumbled with the front of his pants for just a few seconds before pulling his length free, and you spread your legs wide for him.

His lips and tongue were wet on your neck as you held him close, lost in the domesticity of having sex here now. Just like your first time with him. Right next to the snag in the rug. But this time you could hear Skittles' claws tapping across the kitchen floor, and you could see some of Noah's crayons that had rolled under the couch while Bradley fucked you. You could smell the lingering scent of the pasta sauce from the dinner you made. You could taste Bradley's now familiar tongue as it met yours. And you could feel his rough hands on your hips and belly where he'd now touched you hundreds of times. 

You fell in love with the flood of familiarity he brought to your senses, and it left you smiling up at him when he broke the kiss. "Jesus," he grunted, cupping one cheek in his hand. You kissed the side of his thumb as he stroked your skin, and you watched him slowly come undone for you. "I'll get you there," he promised, changing his angle so he rubbed your clit with each movement.

Just like the first time, he filled you up as soon as you came, and your name was all over his lips as you smiled at the lost crayons before closing your eyes. Bradley collected you against his body as he eased himself down onto his side, and you sighed contentedly. You held onto his wrist as he ran his hand along your hair and kissed you. In that moment you would have agreed to anything he said. 

"Baby, I'll be a little late on Wednesday night. I have to take Skittles to get her cast off, and then I need to stop at the store."

You hummed softly in response, pressing your lips to his. "Sounds good."

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

The only time Bradley heard from you on Wednesday was when you told him that one of your patients came in with an emergency, and you wanted to let him know you'd be helping Dr. Kelly with a minor surgical procedure. He was excited for you, but he didn't want to bother you. Even though he had good news.

"Congrats," Jake drawled in the locker room after a very long day of flying. "Don't know how you managed to pull this one off, but I heard you're flying in the air show."

Bradley ran his towel over his chest before tossing it into his locker. "Thanks," he grunted, trying not to smile. He'd be able to take you on the tour of the hospital with him, and then you and Noah could watch him fly. His son had never seen him in the air before, and it gave Bradley goosebumps knowing that the two of you would be able to do that together. 

Jake gave him one last appraising look before he got dressed. Honestly, it was probably the fact that you upped the ante with Cyclone that Bradley was chosen over the others. Perhaps now things could be called even. You managed to keep everyone on their toes in the best way, and it made him smile even now. 

You were in rare form this week, luring him in for living room floor sex when there was a perfectly new bed in the bedroom. And then last night, you got him to watch a Disney princess movie with you, even after Noah was in bed, and Bradley had begrudgingly enjoyed it. You were laying across his lap on your back when the end credits rolled, and you said, "If you're a good boy, I'll make you beignets just like Princess Tiana."

Bradley had smirked. "Do those have cream filling?"

"No," you whispered as he eased your shirt up so his palm was flat on your belly. 

"Do you want some?" 

He had been thinking about getting you pregnant as he made you bury your face in the couch pillows to keep you quiet.

And that was just one of the many reasons he was about to leave work and head home to grab Skittles before stopping at the jewelry store across town. If Casey managed to bump into there and ruin this surprise as well, he would probably lose his mind. But the jeweler near the animal shelter was one of the best in the city, so that was where he would go. 

Bradley awkwardly held Skittles while he drove, and eventually she curled up with her head on his thigh while he sat in traffic. She seemed to be doing great, so he hoped that was a good sign that the cast could come off. You and Noah were delighted with her, and she somehow made Bradley fall in love, too. 

"Yeah, you're sweet," he told her, scratching her behind the ears while he drove. He parallel parked the Bronco with one hand while he continued to pet her, and when he took her inside the shelter, he held onto her a little tighter. It was hard to believe she'd been here just a few weeks ago, completely unwanted. 

Bradley pressed kisses to the top of her head as he waited for the receptionist to finish her phone call. When she hung up, she asked, "And who do we have here?"

"Skittles Bradshaw," he replied, nuzzling his nose against her fur and wondering how on earth he had gotten so attached to this little pup. "Hopefully she can get her cast off today."

He only had to wait a few minutes, and then he watched as they examined her before cutting into the cast plaster. Once she was free, Skittles took a few tentative steps across the exam table, and then she jumped right back into Bradley's arms. 

After he paid the monstrous bill for such a small creature, he carried her down the sidewalk, enjoying the cooling temperature as the sun set. When he checked his phone, he saw that you'd finally texted him again.

My Princess: Noah and I are going to play at the park near the beach. Leftovers when you get home?

He typed out a quick message letting you know that sounded perfect. Thoughts of you and Noah together filled his mind as he entered the jewelry store, and two women looked up at him and Skittles. "Is it okay if I have her in here?" he asked, but they both immediately rushed over, practically screeching about how cute his dog was. Honestly, the pet would have probably worked out better than the dating app had for him.

"What are you looking for?" the first woman asked as she petted Skittles on her head. 

A soft smile made its way to his lips as he said, "An engagement ring."

"Oh! Of course, let's just head over here to see what you like best. Do you have anything specific in mind?"

Bradley followed behind her as he nodded and said, "A princess cut diamond."

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

A princess for a Princess. Also, there is no way Skittles wouldn't be a magnet for all the ladies. A big man with a small dog... just fuck. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 45

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[ohtobeleah]

Way Down We Go // Jake Seresin

Summary: Burnout isn't an academic exercise. No. It's an all-consuming, systemic condition. It's your entire body sending you one clear message. Something has to change and it has to change now.

Warnings: Angst. Mental health talks. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Friends to Lovers to ex’s to enemies to friends to lovers trope.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author Note: Based off my own recent experience with Burn Out. Writing this helped me process some of my pent up frustration with accepting the fact I experienced my first real major burn out at 24.

In 2019, the World Health Organisation officially recognised “Burnout” in its international classification of diseases. Studies show that aviators who report signs of burnout have enlarged amygdalas. The area in the brain that regulates fear and aggression. 

But burnout isn't an academic exercise. No. It's an all-consuming, systemic condition. It's your entire body sending you one clear message. Something has to change and it has to change now. 

Put simply, Burnout comes from a deep imbalance. Too much stress with too few rewards. You're exhausted. Depleted. You no longer have patience, pleasure of serotonin. This is the end unless–

You turn it into something else and find your path to recovery. Pick the pieces you want from your life and find a new way forward. But sometimes it isn't all that simple. Sometimes the all-consuming is just that, it's all-consuming–

And sometimes it's easier to drop the deadweight than to try and carry it on your shoulders.

“Anyone see Rouge today?” It was Hangman's tone that sent a shiver down Roosters spine as he scoffed down the turkey sandwich he had slapped together this morning in the rec room. “We’re on the schedule together after break and I haven't seen her all day?” Rooster knew exactly where you were. At home, probably in bed under a plethora of blankets just trying to catch up on some sleep. 

“I uh–” Rooster was raised by an intelligent and loving woman who had always told him not to talk with his mouth full, but in times like these where every second mattered, that rule seemed more obsolete with every day that passed him by. He did however, make an effort to cover his mouth as he chewed and spoke. “Actually I think I’m with you this afternoon, Mav just hasn't had a chance to change the schedule.” It wasn't technically a lie. 

“Is Rogue not in today?” Jake frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Or is she just avoiding me or something?” You and Jake Seresin had a complicated history. On again and off again romantically, on again off again friends, but these days it seemed to be that the two of you were more off than on. To the point where if you could avoid it, the two of you would ignore each other's existence completely. It was easier that way. 

Which meant Jake didn't know just how bad things had gotten for you. He didn't know you’d decided to take an extended leave of absence from work until you could figure out just what the hell was wrong with you. He didn't know that Rooster had been at your house last night on a welfare check mission. He felt it was his responsibility, after all you were his uncle's daughter. 

“Kerners decided to take some time off work.” Rooster explained the best he could without giving too much detail about your personal problems away. “After yesterday's mishap, she got spooked and asked Simpson for a few days to collect her thoughts.” 

Jake swore his heart left his body when he saw you lose control for those few seconds. All he could do was watch on in pure horror as you tried to regain control of your fighter jet after getting caught in his jet wash. You panicked, something that was completely out of the ordinary for you which led to you losing control of your F-18 for those brief moments in time. 

Jake wanted to talk to you after you landed, but within seconds of touching down you were heading straight for the locker room to grab your things. Unbeknownst to him it was your final straw. He hadn’t seen you since. And now Bradshaw was telling him you weren't in at all and wouldn't be for a while? Things weren’t adding up. Not to Jake. This wasn’t like you at all. 

“What aren't you telling me, Rooster?” Jake pressed as he paced up and down the rec room with his arms folded. He cared about you, he just didn’t know how to convey that care. He’d never not care about you. 

“I’m not not telling you anything.” Bradley replied, he looked like a deer caught in Jake's headlights. “We should get ready for our next hop man.” Bradley tried his best to change the subject, the subject being you and your mental stability. “I’m sure if Rogue has something to say she’ll say it.” He shrugged as he stood, knowing that Jake was probably the last person you would ever want to come clean to about being so vulnerable. “We better get going.”

“You’d tell me if she wasn’t alright, wouldn’t you?” Again, the tone Jake used sent a shiver down Bradley’s spine. He knew how tramaltious your relationship was. “If Kerner wasn’t alright you’d let me know?” Jake didn’t need Bradley to reply, his silence spoke louder than any excuse he could make up on the spot. “Dammit Bradshaw—“ 

“She didn’t want you to know!” 

“Know what!?” Jake hissed. He didn’t raise his voice in fear of bringing any sort of unwanted attention to the situation, but he was worried. Worried about what he didn’t know, worried about you. The best friend he couldn’t talk to. The love of his life he couldn’t admit to. You were the only woman in the world who knew how to take his breath away, in more ways than one. “God Rooster, just tell me what’s going on!” 

“She’s afraid to burn in—“ Bradley sighed as he held the bridge of his nose and hung his head in shame. You trusted him like an older brother and yet here he was, spilling your dirty mental health laundry to the only person you begged him not to tell. Jake Seresin, the love of your life that drove you insane. Your best friend who you couldn’t confide in, the only man who made you want to shoot for the moon and capture all the stars too. “She took an extended leave, told the Admirals they either needed to sign off on the paperwork or they’d be signing her death notice.” It was hard to hear because to Jake this was coming out of nowhere. “She just needs time.” Jake didn’t know how to respond, but most importantly he didn’t know how to react. 

“I don’t have time for all this melodrama, Rooster.” Jake shook his head in disbelief. “If Rogue wants to throw her career away because of a few bad days so be it but I’m not sympathetic.” It was the only response Jake knew how to give, but he was panicking on the inside. “I’ll see you for pre-flight checks.” 

“I think it’s more than just a few bad days, Hangman.” Bradley wasn’t going to say when he saw you last night he hardly recognised you. “She’s hid it well.” In all the time Bradley had known you, he’d never seen you this bad before. It was serious. He’d experienced his own burn out a few years back just after the Uranium mission. Before you joined the Daggers. It had taken its toll on him a hell of a lot more than he was prepared for. “She hid it so well I didn’t even know something was up until she was on the edge already.” 

In that very moment Bradley came to realised why you didn’t want Jake to know you were struggling, you didn’t want him to know that if given the chance you’d quit tomorrow because the burn out you were in was so entirely consuming that it made it hard to even get out of bed. When was the last time you ate? 

“She hid it so well it’s almost hard to believe, don't you think?” Jake snapped over his shoulder as he left the rec room, completely in denial about the fact you didn’t let him in. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

The entire day had passed you by before you even contemplated the idea of getting out of bed. The idea in and of itself seemed exhausting. Expending any kind energy other than the minimal amount to breath seemed like a chore. 

Your stomach grumbled as you sat up and looked out the window that nestled itself beside your bed—pushed up against the wall just the way you liked it. It was dark, the day had passed and even though you couldn’t be bothered doing anything, the idea you’d wasted a full day in bed made you feel like shit. Plain and simple. You felt like crap and there was no one else to blame for that intense feeling of disappointment than yourself. 

As you climbed over your mess of linen and covers, a not so subtle knock began to echo out through your apartment. 

“Rooster!” You groaned, pressing your forehead into your mattress as you slumped in defeat. “Go away! I told you I’m fine!” You weren’t fine, you just didn’t want anyone worrying about you. You had this under control right? Even if you didn’t know what was happening to you. 

When the knocking persisted you knew you had to let Bradley in, he’d camp out in the hall before he left without seeing you. 

“My god I told you I’m fine!” You groaned as you made your way down the hall. Still in the same clothes you went to bed in yesterday afternoon. “I don’t need you doing welfare checks on me every dam—“ As you opened the door, it took you a second to register that it wasn’t Bradley standing out in the hall. “Jake?” You frowned, suddenly feeling a hell of a lot more vulnerable than you did six minutes ago. “What are you doing here?” 

“Bradshaw said you’re on leave?” Was all Jake said as he stepped into your apartment, it still felt like home despite the fact he hadn’t been over in months since your last bust. “What gives Rogue?” He was still in his flight suit, usually Jake showed before leaving base. But you were the priority right now. He just needed to see you. See for himself what the hell was going on. 

You watched as Jake made his way into your home, into your sacred space without so much as an afterthought that he may be intruding. He never did think his actions through if he wasn’t inside an F-18.

“Is that your way of asking me if I’m alright?” You rolled your eyes as you shut the front door, making a note to lock it behind you in case any other nosie aviators with callsigns that belonged to the flightless bird community came knocking. 

“It’s my way of asking what gives—“ Jake made sure to correct you. “So what gives? It’s not like you to take a break, you’re as good as they come—don’t actually get any better if you want my personal opinion.” It wasn’t a secret that you and Jake rotated as ‘The Best’  like a rositery chicken. He was on top one week and suddenly it was you by just a few points. But the sentiment remained, you were the only one who ever came close to matching Jake Seresin. It was just in your DNA. 

“Yeah I don’t remember asking for it.” You hissed, pushing past Jake as he stood in your hallway like a fungus you needed to get rid of before it had a chance to infect you. “Just because I’m the best doesn’t mean I don’t deserve a break from time to time.” 

As you made your way down the hall toward your bedroom, Jake noticed the way your shoulders slumped just the slightest bit. He noticed the way you looked as if you hadn’t been out of bed all day, the way your hair looked like a bird's nest atop your head. And he wasn’t sure why you were wearing the T-shirt he thought he’d lost three weeks ago but as it turned out you had it all along. 

“Y/n—“ Jake sighed as he watched you disappear into your room without so much as an explanation. “Wait.” 

“I need to shower.” It was the toneless way you explained yourself that sent warning signals off in Jake's mind as he followed you. 

“Hypothetically if I were to ask if you were doing okay would you tell me the truth?” You and Jake hadn’t always been so short with one another, but it was just the way it was now. It was the dynamic you were used to but loathed so much. You just wanted him to love you the way you saw in all the Disney films that were crammed down your throat as a kid. 

But Jake couldn’t. It wasn’t in his DNA. 

“Probably not, but like I told Bradshaw last night, I’m fine, just needed some time off work.” You shrugged as you fished through your dresser for a fresh pair of socks. Jake just stood off to the side, unsure of what to make of the mess that was your room. Usually you made it a note to keep your space clean and tidy. But when Jake looked around all he saw was complete chaos, a quick look into the inside of your mind looked like. 

“Isn’t that what weekends and annual leave is for?” He mumbled just loud enough for you to hear. 

“Couldn’t wait—I’m taking this unpaid and uninterrupted, so if you’ll excuse me, I need to shower.” 

“Don’t lie to me.” It came out more like a plea than a demand but it still didn’t sit right with you. You knew Jake Seresin didn’t care about anyone but himself. You’d known him long enough to know that he was selfishly egomaniacal. He didn’t care, not about you anyway. “Don’t lie to me Kerner—“ 

Jake had stopped you from moving any further towards your ensuite, with a gentle hand wrapped around your forearm. 

“I’m. Fine.” You had grit your teeth together to stop yourself from breaking. The force was enough to make your jaw ache. “Let. Me. Go.” 

“Really?” Jake challenged. “Because I’m standing on a pile of washing that smells like the inside of Fanboys locker.” 

“What has that got to do with anything!” As you ripped your arm out of Jake's grip he was quick to follow you into your bathroom. “I’m behind on laundry, big deal.” 

“It’s a big deal for you!” You could feel yourself crumbling the more Jake pressed you for the truth. “I don’t know what’s going on but—“ 

“Oh what exactly do you want me to say Jake? That I get up and then all day I'm tired, and that I wanna take a nap all day?” Everything you had been trying to hold in and deny was finally bubbling to the surface. “Do you want to hear me say that I have no motivation? That I don't wanna do anything.” 

“Y/n—“ Jake tried to interrupt as you threw your stuff on the bathroom floor in a heap. “It’s—“ There wasn’t a single thing Jake could say that could comfort you once the damn had been broken, you had held it all in for so long. 

“That I don't want to work, I can’t Jake because if I’m not in my own mind than I could kill myself up there or even worse–I could kill one of you!” 

All Jake could do was to stand there and listen as you let him know everything you had been struggling with for the past few months, slowly losing yourself day by day. You didn’t know what was wrong with you, why you felt this way, why all the enjoyment and all of the life had been sucked out of you. 

“I don't want to talk to anyone, especially you!” It was then you shoved at Jake’s chest, completely fed up with your emotional turmoil. He didn’t fight back, no. Jake simply held you close to his chest as he pulled you into a warm embrace that you so desperately needed. “I don't want to hang out with anyone, I don’t wanna watch TV or read a book or even go on my phone but at the same time as all of that I'm so bored! I don't care about anything because all that I care about is just surviving.” 

“You’re burnt out Rogue—“ 

“I’m not!!” Jake swore black and blue that was what you’d been trying to get at. “I can’t be burnt out!” He was even more confused than he was when Rooster had tiptoed around the situation earlier that same day. “My dad burnt out when he was at the height of his career and you know what he did?” Jake knew, he loved your dad like his own. Ron Slider Kerner was one of the best men Jake had ever had the pleasure of knowing. “He became a goddamn airline pilot!” There was anger in your voice, a deep sadness that Jake didn’t understand, what was so wrong with being an airline pilot? 

“Y/n, Y/n—“ Jake held you as tight as he could. He hadn’t held you like this in what felt like forever. “You’re gonna be okay.” Your head dipped just perfectly under his chin as you broke, there was nothing worse than crying into the arms of the man you loved and hated all at once. “I’m here, you’re gonna be fine.” 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” It was the sadness in your cry for help that broke Jake's heart the most, how long had you been dealing with this by yourself?  How long had you been telling the people closest to you that you were fine when you really weren’t. “Why can’t I just—“ You couldn’t breathe. “Why can’t I—“ You couldn’t finish your sentences without nearly gasping for air. “I—I can’t—“ 

“Okay, you’re alright, come with me. Something about Jake Seresin that surprised you the most was the way he dealt with panic attacks. For a guy as level headed as him he sure suffered in silence for the longest time. But you knew—it was one of the reasons you thought Jake couldn’t stand you half the time. 

You knew his biggest weakness. Himself. 

“Sit.” Jake led you over to the side of your bed as he knelt on his knees before you. “Now just breathe with me alright, I’ve got you.” It was the calming tone in his beautiful voice that had you giving yourself entirely to him. You didn’t want to be trapped inside your own head anymore. “There’s nothing wrong with you Rogue, everyone goes through burnout, it’s a part of life.” Jake wasn't diminishing your feelings, but from his own experience he knew that there was a weight on your shoulders you needed to rid yourself of. “And it’s real, and it’s valid and it doesn’t mean you aren’t incredibly good at what you do.” 

“I can’t handle the pressure—“

“No, you put too much pressure on yourself, that’s what you can’t handle.” 

“Oh what do you care Jake!” He’d never seen you like this, so lost and so broken. “Why are you even here right now!” 

“Because I care about you! Why else would I be here, huh?” Jake cupped your cheeks gently as he wiped away the tears that streamed down your supple cheeks. “I care about you and when Bradshaw told me you took a leave of absence I knew something was up. This isn’t you.” It was the truth, it wasn’t you and that’s why it scared you so much. You didn’t feel like yourself. “Baby, this isn’t you.” 

All you did was cry in Jake's slightly rough palms as he kneeled before you and tried to do what he could to just be present. He hated seeing you like this, so out of your mind and dealing with an existential crisis. But Jake knew what it was like to experience burnout. 

“I can’t be burn out—“ 

“Why not?” 

“Because it’s not real?” That was probably the stupidest thing Jake had ever heard you say. “My mum always used to say that being burnt out was just an excuse for not being good enough, it was a cop out.” 

“Something tells me that’s a reason why your parents divorced huh?” You couldn’t hold back the small chuckle that escaped through the sobs. “Y/n, what you're experiencing right now is so real it’s not funny—burnout is real and I reckon once you accept that? It’s going to be easier to overcome than to fight off.” 

“You seem to know an awful lot about this for a guy who’s as confident as ever.” 

“Contrary to popular belief Rogue, I wasn’t born the best.” Jake winked as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “How about you go have that shower and I’ll order some food and we can talk about it, all of it.” 

“Is this your way of trying to get in my pants?” 

“Mmm—it usually would be, but no, not this time.” Jake admitted as he graciously helped you stand as you sighed out a deep breath. “I’m here to help, can’t leave my wingwoman behind.” 

“I love you Seresin.” You smiled softly as you pressed your lips together in a fine line. It was hard to admit, but you’d never not love Jake. “Thanks for showing up.” Jake mimicked your smile before his lips pressed into a fine line of their own. He nodded softly before you turned on your heels, heading into the bathroom before shutting the door behind you. 

“I love you too.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

[arcane-vagabond]

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Ten

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Ten

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger Gang of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Language, Angst, Talk of execution, Scout has a plan

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Hey guys! Friendly reminder that I have two writing challenges going at the moment! My Christmas Challenge and my Playlist Challenge are both still taking entries! As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond! If You're feeling kind, please consider donating to my ko-fi!

Masterlist || DGU Masterlist || Playlist

Whispers echoed the streets as you made your way back towards the saloon, and you could feel the stares from the last remaining spectators from the crowd earlier. Your eyes scanned the different faces, desperate to find someone you knew. Someone who could help. You spotted Birdie leading Bunny back into the saloon, a look of concern on the teacher’s face as she placed a steadying hand on the back of the saloon girl.

You made a beeline towards the saloon, almost running into a couple of people in the process, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered in that moment was freeing Jake, and if you couldn’t find the Daggers, then Bunny and Birdie would surely have an idea. Pushing through the saloon doors, your eyes immediately landed on the bar where the two girls sat, Birdie stroking a hand up and down Bunny’s back in a soothing gesture. You marched to where they stood, and Birdie looked over at you when you were just a few feet away.

“Scout,” she breathed, tears kissing her lash line as she stared at you. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.”

“Where are they?” You asked her, mouth pressed into a firm line to keep from falling apart completely. It wouldn’t serve you to sit around and mope about the situation. You had to take action, and you knew that the boys were already working on a plan to free Jake. “What happened?”

Birdie looked at you hesitantly, hand still on Bunny’s back. “I don’t know. They took off in the middle of everything. I think Jake used himself as a diversion or something, I’m not sure. Those men came in here and started saying such awful things to Bunny, and then Bob overheard, and, and everything just happened so fast, Scout. It was chaos.”

You nodded, letting out a frustrated breath.

“It’s my fault,” Bunny whispered, picking up her head from where she hung it over her arms. She looked at you with lost, far away eyes, and the sight sent a stab through your heart. “I’m sorry, Scout. This is all my fault.”

“Bunny, no,” Birdie chided, but the other girl shook her head.

“No,” she hiccuped. “I should have never come here. If I hadn’t left New Orleans, none of this would be happening.”

“It’s not your fault,” you muttered. “None of this is your fault. This was a setup from the start, and it was all due to that bastard Isaac.”

“Isaac?” Birdie asked you, eyes still weary. “Who is that?”

“He’s a real sonofabitch,” Bunny murmured, gaze still focused on you. “He comes in here from time to time. He’s got a really bad energy about him.”

“He set this whole thing up,” you scowled. “The remarks, the fight, the arrest. It was all his doing. I’m sure of it.”

“Surely you can tell Sherrif Kazansky about it,” Birdie smiled, hope beginning to shine in her eyes. “You can tell him, and he’ll have to let Jake go!”

“It’s not that simple, Birdie,” you sighed, causing the other girl’s smile to fall. “Marshal Simpson has been itching to get his hands on the Daggers since he got here. It’s the whole reason he came to Maverick in the first place, actually. He’s not going to let Jake go unless I give him a good reason. No, I need to find the other boys and figure out what their plan is to get him out. I can help with that.”

“They’ll probably be lying low until tonight,” Bunny murmured, looking up to lock eyes with you, face set in her usual stoicism. “You’re best bet is to go by Maverick and Penny’s after sunset. They’ll be there.”

You nodded at her, turning to walk away when Birdie caught your arm, forcing you to look back.

“What are you going to do in the meantime, Scout?” She asked, a worried frown on her lips.

“I’m going to go see my brother.”

“Surely there must be something you can do, Benji,” you pleaded, pacing around your brother’s office. He eyed you from where he sat, leaned back in his chair as he regarded you. He watched you pace across the carpet, and you were sure you looked a sight at this point. The ends of your skirts were muddy from running around earlier that morning, and you knew your hair had come out of your neatly tied bun, as you could feel the loose strands kissing your neck.

“Scout,” Benjamin sighed. “Take a seat.”

You shook your head vigorously, casting him a look of displeasure. “There’s no time to sit, Benji. Time is something we don’t have, and I’m wasting it just standing around waiting!”

“Scout-”

“Who knows how long they’ll keep him alive for? You have to represent him in his trial. I’m not asking, Benji. I’m begging you, please do-”

“Scout,” he snapped, leaning forward and pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes. Benji always did that when he was preparing to deliver bad news, and you stopped your pacing, heart dropping. He looked back up at you, and you pursed your lips. His eyes were sad, like he knew his next words might break you. “Jake isn’t getting a trial.”

“What do you mean?” You demanded, facing him fully now. Your brow was pinched, mind refusing to make sense of what he was telling you.

“Just that,” he sighed. “Jake isn’t getting a trial. There will be no jury. There will be no judge. His death warrant has already been signed.”

You shook your head, fighting back tears as rage overtook you.

“They can’t do that,” you reasoned, moving forward, placing your hands on his desk as you leaned into him. “There has to be a trial.”

“There won’t be,” Benjamin frowned. “Marshal Simpson was sent here to get rid of the Daggers. Even if there was a trial, it would be a show one at best. Unless someone has a plan to break him out, then Jake stays in jail. There’s nothing else I can do.”

“I thought law and order meant something in this world,” you muttered, feeling the tears sting your eyes once again as you stood up and turned.

“It does, Scout,” Benjamin said gently. “But law and order mean different things to different agendas.”

You glanced back at him, and you once again noted the sadness that his eyes held.

“Go home, Scout,” he sighed. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

The sun had just slipped below the horizon when you stepped out from your hiding spot behind Hondo’s store. Most of the people were milling about in front of the saloon or the brothel, but a few drunken stragglers stumbled down the street, laughing and cheering as they made their way. You stuck to the shadows, taking care not to be seen by anyone as your eyes stayed glued to the door of the jail. It was only a few moments before you saw Beau Simpson step foot out the door, shrugging his jacket on as he made his way down to the saloon. His lips were pursed into a frown as he sauntered over towards the saloon. You waited with bated breath as he slipped past some of the drunken patrons, only letting it loose when he stepped through the swinging doors.

You kept your head down as you hurried down the street, doing your best to hide your face in the shadows. Light streamed out from the windows of the jail, illuminating your face as you stepped up to the door. The door creaked on its hinges as you pushed it open, Sheriff Kazansky looking over at you from where he sat in one of the chairs, feet propped up on the desk in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at you, looking you over. There was a hint of wonder and mischief in his eyes, a slow smirk coming to rest on his face.

“You shouldn’t be here, darlin’,” he drawled, placing his feet on the floor. “This ain’t no place for a lady such as yourself.”

“Where is he?” You asked him, stepping into the room and quickly closing the door behind you.

“Scout?”

You peered behind the sherif and into the shadows at the familiar voice. You saw a figure shift in one of the cells, and you began to rush towards it. Tom stopped you, standing quickly to block your path and placing his hands on your shoulders. You looked at him, brow furrowed, but all you saw was worry and curiosity swirling in his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re ready to see him like this?” He asked you quietly, lips pressing into a thin line as he continued to study you. You squared your shoulders back, lifting your chin defiantly.

“Please,” you murmured, feeling your bottom lip tremble slightly as you pleaded with the older man. “Please let me see him.”

Tom stared at you for a moment longer before glancing at the door.

“You have five minutes, Scout.”

You smiled at him gratefully, turning and making your way back towards the shadows that housed the cells.

Jake was on the floor, leaned up against the far wall facing the bars of the cell. His clothes were ruffled and his hair was mussed, lips pulled into a thin line and eyes were contemplative. When he saw you, he scrambled to his feet, the chains surrounding his wrists and ankles jingling with every movement.

You felt the tears come back with a vengeance as the dam you had built to keep from breaking down all day began to overflow. A sob racked through you, the tears now flowing freely as you all but threw yourself against the cold metal bars. Jake caught you as best he could, the two of you slowly easing down onto your knees. You cried into his arms, feeling your copious amounts of tears staining his shirt as he stroked your hair.

“Please don’t cry, Scout,” he soothed, pressing firm kisses to the top of your head. “Everything is okay.”

“It’s not okay,” you sobbed. “It’s not, so don’t tell me that it is.”

“These things happen, honey girl,” he sighed, holding you tighter, seemingly afraid to let you go. You reveled in how his strong arms felt around you, making you feel like your whole world wasn’t ending in that moment. “You wanna tell me what you’re doing here?”

You pulled back to look at him, tears still running down your face, but having slowed to a trickle at this point. “It was Isaac, Jake. It was all a setup. I saw him in the crowd this morning. He planned the whole thing.”

“I know.”

You balked, brow furrowing as you looked at him.

“What do you mean?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper. Jake sighed again, resting his forehead against one of the bars.

“I saw him too.”

“We have to do something, Jake! We have to tell them that this was-” You cried, turning to move away, but Jake grabbed your hand to stop you. You turned back to him, noticing for the first time that his eyes were shining with tears of his own. Your heart dropped at the sight, and you allowed him to pull you back down, his hands cradling your face as he looked at you.

“There’s no time, pretty girl,” he murmured. “There’s just no time left.”

“Don’t say that,” you whispered, tears starting anew.

“Scout, these past few months have been the happiest of my life. I never thought I’d meet a spitfire like you, let alone get someone like you to love me. I have loved every minute spent with you. I love the way you scrunch your nose when you’re mad. I love when you yell at me when I’m being an idiot. I love when you smile at me when you think I’m not lookin’. I love how you feel in my arms and how completely happy you make me feel.”

“Why does this sound like you’re saying goodbye?” You asked him, a sob shaking your entire body. “You’re not dying on me. If you die, I die, you understand me?”

Jake smiled at you sadly, moving his hands down to dig through his pocket. He raised his shackled hands back up, this time holding onto a golden chain. A small, round pendant hung at the bottom, golden bands intricately woven with small diamond embedded into it.

“I know that it’s not the emerald,” he started, “but it’s all I could afford with the money I had leftover from working at the ranch.”

You stared at the necklace, a thousand different thoughts running through your head. It was the most beautiful piece of jewelry you had ever seen, made even more so by the honest man who offered it to you. More tears streamed down your cheeks, and you shook your head.

“I don’t want it,” you murmured.

Jakes face dropped, eyes questioning as he looked at you.

“Jake Seresin,” you said firmly, fixing him with your best scowl. “You promised to make an honest woman out of me, and I’ll be damned if I let you worm your way out of keeping that promise, do you hear me?”

Jake let out a startled chuckle, dropping his head to rest on his forearms before looking back up at you with a bemused expression.

“Honey girl, what on earth am I supposed to do with this necklace now?”

“You can give it to me when you get out of here,” you sniffed, eyes tracing over the lines on his face. “You can give it to me, and then you and I are going to grow old together.”

Jake said nothing, all humor leaving his face as he watched you. Before either of you could say anything more, Tom cleared his throat from where he hovered in the doorway, and you glanced back at him.

“Your time is up, Scout,” he said quietly, gently. “The marshal will be back any moment.”

You nodded, looking back at Jake, cupping his cheek and leaning in to press a desperate kiss to his lips. He kissed you back with urgency, reluctantly pulling away, and helping you stand through the bars. You watched as a tear slipped down his cheek, and you reached up to brush it away. He caught your hand, holding it to his face before turning and placing a firm kiss to your palm.

“I’ll see you on the other side, honey girl,” he rasped, letting go of you and stepping back. You didn’t move, and it took Sheriff Kazansky gently grabbing your elbow and pulling you into the other room for you to leave. You scrubbed at your eyes furiously, jumping when the door opened, revealing U.S. Marshal Simpson.

He blinked at you in surprise before his eyes darted over to where Tom was once again sitting at his desk, looking like he had never moved in the first place. Beau shrugged his jacket off and hung his hat on the hook by the door, eyeing you wearily.

“Miss,” he greeted with a nod. “What brings you by?”

Your mind scrambled, trying to find any excuse.

“Poor thing had her purse stolen,” Tom spoke up, shaking his head in disappointment. “Must have happened sometime this morning during all the excitement. It’s a damn shame when a young woman can’t even walk the streets in broad daylight without someone stealin’ from her, wouldn’t you agree?”

Beau hummed, moving to sit in the seat opposite Tom. You grimaced, nodding in agreement.

“Yes,” you sighed, “It had something very valuable to me.”

“Well, we’ll keep an eye out for it,” Tom smiled, nodding towards the door. “Are you gonna be okay by yourself out there?”

“Oh yes,” you nodded, turning to leave. You had to get to the Daggers, and they would surely be at Maverick and Penny’s home by now. “I’ll be just fine. I really appreciate all of your he-”

You stopped as your eyes caught sight of one of the many missing posters hanging on the wall. A familiar face stared back at you, black eyes just as cold and lifeless as they were in person. Isaac.

“Are you alright there, Scout?” Beau asked you, moving like he was going to get up. You glanced back and put on your best smile.

“Yes! Sorry, I just remembered a place I forgot to check for my purse. I’ll have to go there and let you know if I find it.”

As you moved for the door, you heard their last exchange.

“When do you want to do this, Beau?”

“Don’t hang’em til noon, Tom. That gives us time to get everything sorted out.”

Your breath caught in your throat. That wasn’t a lot of time for you to get everything sorted. You gathered your skirts and broke out into a run once you hit the street.

Maverick and Penny’s home was lit up, casting a faint glow out onto the dirt road as you walked up. You could hear muffled chatter coming from inside, and it cut off when you knocked on the door. A moment passed before Penny hesitantly cracked it open, sighing in relief when she saw it was you. She opened the door all the way and quickly gestured you to walk in.

“It’s alright,” she called out ahead of you. “It’s just Scout.”

The two of you entered the parlor where the rest of the Daggers, plus Birdie, Bunny, Natasha, and Maverick all sat scattered around. Birdie rushed to you, enveloping you into a tight hug. You reciprocated, glancing over her shoulder to see Natasha finishing up some of Reuben’s stitches above his eyebrow.

“I really wish you had come found me earlier,” you heard her mutter to him. “This is going to leave a nasty scar now.”

“Well, when the best doctor in town works in the middle of everything, it’s hard to sneak in and out,” he countered with a grimace as she cut the thread.

Maverick looked at you, face melancholic as his eyes met yours. “What brings you by Scout?”

You shifted your attention from him to Bradley, who was leaning against one of the end tables at the far side of the room.

“What’s the plan, Bradshaw?” You asked him, stepping forward. He glanced up at you, brown eyes unreadable as he pressed his lips into a thin line.

“What plan?”

“The plan to get Jake out of trouble,” you pressed, fists clenching at your sides. Bradley lifted his head, a look of indifference passing over his face as he looked away. You felt your jaw tick as you watched him.

“Oh, that,” he drawled, eyes still avoiding yours. He shrugged. “There is none.”

“I beg your pardon?” You bit out, rage overtaking you, and you felt Penny place a soothing hand on your back. “What do you mean you don’t have a plan?”

“I mean just what I said,” he snapped at you, eyes now focused on you with a mix of anger and guilt. “You think I have any favors to call in? Shit, Scout. Even Mav and Ice don’t have anymore favors to use on us. There’s no plan because there’s nothing to be done.”

“You owe him,” you ground out, words dissolving into a sob as you felt the tears race down your face once again. “You have to help him, please.”

“I don’t have any chips left to play, sweetheart,” he growled in frustration, running a hand through his hair. “Jake hangs tomorrow, and there’s nothing any of us can do about it. I hope your time with him was good while it lasted because-”

A smack resounded in the room, followed by deafening silence save for your labored breathing as you fought to control your breathing. Your hand stung from where it had connected with Bradley’s cheek, and you could see his eyes had widened in shock. His head had snapped to the side from the force of your slap, and he slowly turned to look at you, and you could see unshed tears shining brightly in the low light of the room.

“He is not going to die,” you sobbed. Your breaths came out in hard pants as you stumbled forward, clinging on to Bradley’s shirt as you gazed up at him. “He can’t die. You have to help him, please.”

You felt a gentle touch slowly pull you away from the brunette, and you collapsed onto your knees before him, hands grabbing on to any part of him you could reach as you well and truly broke down.

“Please,” you begged once more to no one in particular. “Please, someone help him.”

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Tippington Affair

Summary: Y/N and Dean are unaware of just how similar they are.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: None really. Angst. Pining. Some making out. Kissing. Fluff.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 5,314

A/N: In February I got a request from a lovely anon asking this:

hiii :)) idk of you're taking requests rn, but i was wondering if you could write something with dean x fem!reader where dean really loves her for a while but hasn't told her and plan on never telling cause he just thinks he's bad for her or that he's "poison", but he sees her getting close to some guy they're working with and starts to get like suuuper jealous, enough to make him forget he's not supposed to be with her. I absolutely love your writing and your stories, I'm pretty sure I've read them all haha :)) thanks!

It took me a while to get to this, but I hope you think it was worth it! Thank you so much for this request, Nonnie. And I hope everyone else who reads it enjoys it too. ❤️

Master List || Dean Winchester One Shots || Tag Lists

Dean shouldered his big green duffle bag, slamming Baby’s trunk and frowning at his phone.

-

-

Dean scowled at the name “Tippington”. Scott Tippington.

What the fuck kinda name is Tippington? Dean thought angrily. Sounds like he should be taking cigars and brandy in the library instead of out hunting with a flannel and a shotgun. 

Sam joined him back at the car, having just checked them in and got their room key from the front desk. He tossed it to Dean. 

“203.” He told him and they bounded up the stairs two at a time to the second floor of the Sleep Eazzz Motel. 

When they’d spotted the motel on the side of the highway and Dean mentioned stopping, Sam told him the name of the motel was too close to “Sleazzz Motel” and they should keep driving. But Dean had already been driving for almost twenty-four hours straight. Sam offered to take over but Dean said he needed to stretch out on a real bed. 

“Plus,” he’d pointed out, “you have a habit of really riding the brakes.”

So, they’d stopped for the night.

As they walked through the orange motel room door, they both gave a relieved sigh. The outside of the motel was hideous, but the room seemed decent. It actually smelled and looked clean, there was a decently modern TV, one from the 21st century anyway, and to Dean’s delight, both beds had magic fingers.

They each picked a bed and dropped their bags. Sam sat on the end of his bed and ran a hand down his face before turning to his brother.

“Hey, did you manage to get a hold of Y/N? Is she coming?”

Dean dug into his bag and started taking weapons out to clean them, doing his best to seem nonchalant. “N’ah, she’s werewolf hunting down in North Carolina.”

Sam nodded. “Ah. Too bad, we could use her.”

Dean shrugged. “We got this, it’ll be fine.”

Sam grunted his response and started unlacing his boots. Dean sat back on the bed and laid out a cloth to set the weapons on before starting in on his 1911. 

After a minute Sam kicked off his boots and pushed himself backwards so he was leaning against the pillows on the bed as he picked up the remote and clicked on the TV. Dean was quiet until Sam settled on an old episode of The Simpsons and tossed the remote aside.

“Hey, do you know a guy named Scott Tippington? ‘Nother hunter?”

Sam scrunched his forehead thinking. “Out of Utah? Tall guy, blonde?”

Dean shrugged. “I dunno. I don’t know him, that’s why I was asking you. What’s he like?”

Sam sat forward a bit to pull off his overly warm flannel. “Well, if it’s the guy I’m thinking of, I only worked with him once, a few years ago.” He darted a look towards Dean. “When you and I were, uh, apart. After Amy.”

It was awkward for a moment before Sam looked back at the TV and continued on. “Anyway, I don’t remember a ton about him, but we ended up on the same Rugaru case and we hunted it together. He was good, I think. If he was bad or stupid, I’d probably remember him more.” He looked at Dean again. “Why do you ask?”

Dean shrugged. “Oh, just Y/N said she’s working with him again. This is like the third or fourth case in a row they’ve worked together, so I was just curious.”

Sam smiled knowingly. “Ah! I get it now.”

Dean scowled at his little brother and then went back to aggressively cleaning the barrel of his pistol. “There’s nothing to ‘get’.”

Sam cocked an eyebrow.“You’re worried Y/N’s getting a bit too close with this guy.”

Dean scoffed. “Whatever. She’s teamed up with him a couple times, and I just wanna make sure he’s not a tool that’s gonna get her killed.”

“Uh huh.” Sam said in tones of disbelief.

Dean shook his head. “Shut up.”

He didn’t bother arguing the point with Sam any further because he knew Sam would see through him - had been seeing through him for the last four years, since the day they’d first had a run in with the former FBI agent.

***

Dean had been immediately blown away by her. She was a power and a force all unto her own, and she was immediately suspicious of them. 

They were working the case of a shifter who was shifting into different parents, and snatching that parent’s kid. They were pretty sure the bastard was selling the kids to other monsters for obviously horrific reasons.

Y/N was only aware of the most recent kid, snatched ten hours earlier. She was on the case, knowing that a twenty-four hour clock was ticking. There were witnesses and CCTV camera footage of the boy’s father picking him up from school, so of course he was their prime suspect. 

But when Sam and Dean came into the local FBI field office and said they’d been instructed to interrogate that suspect, Y/N had just frowned at them and asked to see their badges again. She’d studied them for a worryingly long time before handing them back.

She squinted at them. “You look kind of familiar to me. Have we worked together?”

Both brothers assured her they’d never met and demanded again to speak with the suspect in custody. She’d reluctantly agreed and taken them into the room. But they got little new information out of the incredibly distraught father.

As they were leaving, Y/N caught Dean’s arm and he’d been amazed with how much that little touch had affected him and how badly it made him want to pull her closer, cover her delectable mouth with his and see what she tasted like.

But she’d merely asked him one more time if they’d ever worked together. When Dean denied it again, she shook her head and let him go.

But early the next morning, she’d been outside their motel room, pounding on the door. Dean’s bed was the closest and he stumbled out of it, half asleep, to open the door. He stood there in his black boxers and gray t-shirt and she seemed momentarily surprised, looking him up and down before she pushed past him into the room. 

“Hey!” He protested. He looked over at Sam’s bed, but it was already empty and made up. Probably out running. Dean thought with an internal eye roll as he grabbed his jeans and yanked them on as Y/N spun around to confront him.

“I know why I know you.” When Dean said nothing, she planted her hands on her hips. 

“You're Dean Winchester. And that guy with you,” she pointed at Sam's bed, “is your brother Sam.” When Dean still stayed silent she moved her hands from her hips and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Also, you’re dead.”

She began pacing back and forth in front of him. “After a horrifying and bloody murder spree across several states, you were both killed - ‘decapitated’ the report said. When I called the sheriff who wrote the report, I found out that both he and his daughter, who just happened to be the coroner who processed the bodies, were also missing and presumed dead.”

She turned back to look directly at Dean and in spite of the seriousness of the situation, he found himself once again caught up in how beautiful she was, in the way her eyes flashed as she studied him. And once again he had the impulse to wrench her forward and crush her mouth under his…probably a bad idea, he thought.

Y/N eyeballed him, but he couldn't decipher her expression. Her voice was stern when she spoke. “I should be here to arrest the murderers who faked their own death.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You’re not?”

She stared at him for a minute before she shook her head. “No, because you and your brother aren’t the only weird thing going on with this case. After you left yesterday I dug deeper into the case and stumbled across six other cases, from local municipalities, of missing kids. The cases had been reported to the FBI for consultation, but they all seemed cut and dry, so the locals took care of it themselves.”

She inhaled deeply, frowning at Dean. “The disappearances of all six kids were reported as parental abductions. In every case, there was footage of the parent picking the kid up from school, but every accused parent vehemently denied taking them. Four out of the six suspects arrested, also had ex spouses who refused to believe their former partner had taken the child because they were in very friendly and functional co-parenting situations. Oh, and all six kids were never found, and no body was ever recovered.”

She shook her head. “Now there is a seventh kid missing and it’s exactly the same situation. If you add to that, two fake FBI agents who are actually mass murderers back from the dead, well I gotta think there’s something more going on here that I don’t understand.”

Sam walked through the door just then,  freezing when he saw Y/N standing in the middle of the motel room. 

“Uh…”

Dean waved him in. “Come on in, Sammy. Time to give the talk.”

So, they’d spilled the beans about who they were and the life they lived. She didn’t believe easily, but eventually she admitted that there had been a few other cases in her ten year career that had felt off, that left her with a bad taste in her mouth about what was really going on.

She’d insisted on helping them find the seven year old boy that was missing, and with her help they’d found the shifter and put a silver bullet in his heart in time to save the kid and return him to his real parents.

After that Y/N tried to go back to being an FBI Agent, but eventually she came to see the boys. 

“I can’t go back to pretending that everything is normal. Everytime we’re going after a suspect, I’m wondering whether they’re actually a monster in disguise, or if they’ve got a monster framing them.” She’d shrugged. “So, teach me to be a hunter. I feel like there’s gonna be a lot of career overlap, and hey, the FBI doesn’t pay great either.”

So they’d helped her out, but she was a very quick study and it hadn’t taken long for her to become a great hunter. They often worked cases together.

Or they had until a few months ago when Y/N had met up with Scott Tippington and started working all her cases with him.

Tippington. Dean thought again, dismissively. Definitely a douche.

***

***

“Cheers!” Y/N reached across the table and clinked glasses with Sam and then turned slightly to touch glasses with Dean who was sitting beside her. 

He gave her a lopsided grin. “Cheers.” He said with a nod. 

They all took a big gulp of beer and then clunked their heavy glass mugs back down on the table. 

“So, how have you guys been?” Y/N asked, wiping her hand over mouth to ensure no beer clung to her upper lip. 

Dean grunted non-committedly and she looked to Sam for further explanation.

Sam chuckled. “That’s Dean’s way of saying taking down that nest of vamps we went after, ended up being a bit tougher than we thought it would be. Three of the vamps were friggin’ huge and they didn’t go down easy.”

“Shit!” Y/N said, shaking her head and looking Sam up and down. “They were bigger than you?” 

Dean answered. “Yeah, believe it or not. One of them picked Sam up like he was gonna bench press him and then chucked him clear across the room. Thankfully, I was too quick and agile for him to catch me.”

Sam snorted. “Yes, you were just like a ninja while the one with the beard had you in a headlock choking you out.”

Dean waved him away. “Got out of it didn’t I?”

Y/N chuckled and took another sip of her beer. Sam shifted his gaze from his brother to her and gave her one of his dimpled smiles. “How about you? How’d your last hunt go? Wolves right?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, and then a wraith on the way back. They were both pretty quick and clean. We took them out without a problem.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Right you were working with uh…what was his name again?” He asked, as though the name hadn’t been plaguing his nightmares.

“Scott Tippington.”

Dean picked up his cardboard coaster and began shredding it. “Right. You’ve worked with him quite a bit lately. I guess he must be good.”

Y/N shrugged a shoulder, smiling fondly at the memory of her most recent partner. “Yeah, he is. I like working with him a lot. He makes me laugh.”

Dean nodded, a little rapidly, she thought. “Oh that’s good. Important that your partner can tickle your funny bone just before a demon smashes your head into a wall.”

Y/N frowned. “He’s a good hunter too.”

“Huh.” Dean grunted. “That’s good.” He nodded. “I mean it’s obviously more important that he’s a good hunter so, you know, he's not gonna get you killed. But it’s great that you get along so well too. Important.” He finished with a mumble.

Y/N looked at him askance. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The table was quiet for a minute until the waitress came by to drop off more pretzels and peanuts for the table.

Dean turned a bright smile her way and Y/N felt her stomach lurch as he moved into flirtation mode. She’d seen it many times before, over the last four years, and it never got easier. It was, in fact, the main reason she’d started hunting with Scott. She’d needed distance from Dean. She couldn’t keep watching him walk out the door with yet another new woman under his arm.

But once again, his charm was in full effect as he addressed their waitress. “Thanks sweetheart.” The waitress had long, dark hair, big boobs and a short skirt. She also had a very sweet smile that she flashed his way, making Y/N wanna scream or scratch her eyes out - maybe both.

The waitress popped a hip out as she stood beside their table. “No trouble, honey. Can I get you anything else? At all?” She asked, her warm brown eyes entirely focused on Dean.

Y/N thought the woman was being a little obvious and forward the way she rested her popped hip against their table and leaned forward so that Dean had a fabulous view of the cleavage revealed by her low cut, scoop neck t-shirt.

Dean didn’t even try to hide his ogling and Y/N gritted her teeth as he leaned his elbows on the table, looking up at the waitress. His green eyes glittered brightly with obviously dirty thoughts and promises. “Well, I wouldn’t mind knowing what time you get off.”

The waitress blushed prettily and bit her lip. “Um, I’m off at midnight.”

Dean gave an exaggerated expression of surprise. “Well, how ‘bout that, midnight is just when I was planning to head home. Maybe we could meet up.”

Y/N was clenching her teeth so hard she thought she might crack one as the waitress giggled and nodded. “Okay, maybe you can give me a ride home.”

Dean stared straight into the woman’s eyes and slowly licked his lips before speaking. “Oh, I can definitely give you a ride, sweetheart.”

“Jesus.” Y/N heard Sam mumble under his breath, but she didn’t spare him a glance. 

She was too intent on staring at the waitress who was practically salivating as she stared at Dean, before she giggled again and bounced away from their table. 

Dean watched her go with his head slightly tilted. 

When he swung his gaze back to her and Sam, he seemed slightly angry and she figured he expected them to bug him about his carousing while they were all just sitting at the table.

She wanted to make sure he knew she didn’t care, so she laughed. “Jesus Dean, why didn’t you just mount her right here on the fucking table.”

Oops, she thought, that sounded a bit more angry than teasing. 

Dean shrugged a shoulder. “What? I wanted a date, I got a date.”

Y/N snorted. “A date? A date implies dinner and a movie, I doubt very much you’ll bother with either. You don’t even know the woman’s name.”

Dean scowled at her. “It’s Cindy.” Y/N raised an eyebrow and he shrugged again. “She had a name tag, and I notice things.”

Y/N snorted. “Yeah, especially when they're pinned to a pair of enormous tits.”

Dean wore half a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He drained his beer in one swallow and stood up. “I’m gonna go ask Cindy for another one.”

He sauntered away and Y/N took her hands off the table and shoved them into her lap so Sam couldn’t see her shaking.

She raised her eyes to his and plastered on what she hoped looked like a real smile. “So, Sam, how is YOUR love life going?”

Sam chuckled. “Non-existent and boring.” He took a sip of beer. “How about you?”

“Non-existent and boring.” Y/N said with a small nod.

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

“So…” Sam cocked his head. “You don’t have anything going on with this uh…Tippington guy you’ve been working with?”

“What? Ew! No.”

Sam frowned in apparent confusion. “Ew? Why ew?”

Y/N shook her head, her face still scrunched. “Because he’s the same age as my Dad!”

Surprise registered on Sam's face followed quickly by confusion. “Scott Tippington? Out of Utah?”

Y/N shook her head. “No, he's from Virginia, or…no West Virginia.”

“Oh.”

Y/N shook her head and then grinned at the idea of dating the grumpy old hunter. “I mean he's pretty good-looking for a 68 year old hunter. But…I think we're just gonna be friends.”

Sam smiled, chagrined. “That's probably a good plan.”

Dean sauntered back towards them and Y/N felt her stomach muscles tighten at his long-limbed, bow legged stride. Dean moved in a way that always made her take notice. When he was hunting, his movements were crisp and efficient, no wasted motions. He was precise and deadly. 

When he wasn’t hunting though, when he was relaxed, he moved his body through the world with a kind of ease, loose and almost carefree. He reclined in chairs, leaned in doorways, and put his feet up on tables. He stretched and relaxed his tall frame into comfortable positions that always made Y/N wanna climb up into his lap and cuddle.

He plunked himself back down beside her with a new mug of beer. Y/N tried to make her grimace look like a grin.

“So, you got your evening all planned out?”

Dean nodded and took a sip of his beer. “Yeah, we’re outta here in about fifteen minutes.” He looked at Sam and winked. “Don’t wait up.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Wasn’t planning to.”

Y/N let some of her frustration show. “So, you’re really gonna ditch us after like a half hour. I thought we were supposed to be catching up.”

Dean’s jaw ticked as she looked at his profile. “I figured we were all done catching up. Your wolf hunt went great cause you had your amazing new partner and our vamp hunt went kinda shitty cause we could have used an extra pair of hands.”

Y/N scowled at him. “Seriously? Are you pissed at me for hunting with Scott? I wasn’t aware we’d signed exclusive contracts.”

Dean chuckled darkly. “N’ah, we’re definitely not exclusive. You are under no obligation to us whatsoever. So, you’re good.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Y/N said and Dean turned to look at her. “You’re seriously running off to spend the night with wonder tits over there because you’re pouting?”

“Wow.” Dean said with a head shake. “Whatever happened to the sisterhood? That was pretty rude.”

Y/N scowled at him. “You know, you’re right. I should do my part for the sisterhood by going over to that nice girl and warning her to find another ‘ride’.” She said, using air quotes. “Cause God knows she’s gonna come to regret it when she turns into just another notch on your belt.”

There was no hiding her annoyance now and she didn’t bother.

Dean dropped his jovial pretext too and turned to face her better. “Why the hell are you being so preachy and judgemental? Since when do you give a shit who I fuck?”

“Dean-” Sam started to speak but Y/N spoke over him.

“I don’t.” she denied vehemently. “But I mean, Jesus. Do you ever think with anything other than the dick in your pants? I mean seriously, it’s gross.”

“Y/N-” Sam tried again but Dean leapt to his feet, banging the table and sloshing their beer across the wooden top.

“For fuck’s sake.” Sam mumbled as he jumped up too, trying to avoid the beer streaming towards him.

Dean’s face was furious as he stared down at her. “Well I don’t wanna gross you out, so I guess I’ll just go sit at the bar till I’m ready to go.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, guilt plagued her when she saw the hurt in Dean’s mossy green eyes as she slid out of the bench seat to stand just in front of him.

“Don’t bother. I’m gonna take off, got a lot of driving between here and my next hunt.” She stared up at Dean, hoping against hope that he might tell her that they should both stay.

But he just smiled a tight smile. “Yeah, say hi to Tippington for us.”

Y/N gave a terse nod. “Yeah, whatever.” She glanced at Sam. “Take care, Sam. Hope to see you soon.”

She didn’t bother addressing Dean again, just turning away and walking out the door, wishing she could leave behind her feelings for him just as easily.

***

Dean grabbed a rag from the bar and wiped up the spilled beer before sliding back into the seat across from his brother who was frowning at him.

“Dean, what the fuck is the matter with you?”

Dean glared back. “What’s wrong with me? Nothing’s wrong with me. Why don’t you chase Y/N down and ask what the fuck’s gotten into her lately. She goes months without seeing me, us, I mean, and then storms away just because I had the audacity to make a date for later.”

Sam let out a frustrated growl. “You really think she was just mad you made a date, which, by the way, is a very loose translation for what actually happened with the waitress.”

“No, she was obviously mad and took off because she thinks I’m gross, cause she disapproves of my lifestyle, I guess.” He said, trying not to let the hurt bubble up. 

What the fuck do I care what she thinks of my choices? He thought angrily.

Sam opened his mouth to say something more, but Cindy showed up at the end of their table.

“My boss let me off a bit early.” She smiled bashfully and nodded towards the door, clearly anxious to be underway. “Wanna go?”

Dean smiled at her and stood up, grabbing her hand. “Hell yeah, let’s go.”

***

***

There was a pounding on Y/N’s motel door that would have woken her up if she’d actually been asleep. But she’d just been restlessly tossing and turning, feeling guilty about Dean, but hurt over Dean too. The fact that he hadn’t texted back, clearly meant he was still on his “date��.

The long and short of it was she was in a rotten mood and the pounding on her door at two in the morning wasn’t helping. 

Stupid drunken idiots next door.

When they wouldn’t take the hint and go away, Y/N threw off the covers and stomped to the door, throwing it open, ready to tell them to fuck off. But it wasn’t her neighbors on the other side.

“Dean!” Y/N exclaimed, her surprise turning into a frown. “What the hell are you doing here? Where’s your date?”

“I got your text.” Dean answered, brusquely.

He was staring at her, raking his eyes up and down her form standing in the doorway. Two spots of pink rose in Y/N’s cheeks as she realized she was just wearing a ratty old t-shirt and panties. She tugged self-consciously at the front hem of the shirt trying to ensure she was covered. 

She opened her mouth to ask again what Dean was doing, but before she could get a word out, he’d pushed her backwards into the room with his hands at her waist. In one quick motion he kicked the door shut and spun her so he could slam her up against the wood-paneled wall.

She gasped, her eyes wide and her heart slamming against her ribs. Before she could get a word out, he was crashing his lips onto hers and sweeping his tongue into her mouth. He tasted like smooth whiskey and she was quickly drunk on him, her head reeling as his hands moved from her waist to grasp her cheeks and hold her steady.

His mouth ravaged her, pulling shocked and hungry whimpers from her throat. When he finally pulled his mouth away from hers, he simply trailed his silken lips down the length of her throat, while his rough hands strayed down her body to slip under the hem of her shirt and up her ribcage. His hands rested there, and he lifted his thumbs to brush tantalizingly against her rock hard nipples.

Y/N threw her head back, cracking it against the cheap wood paneling and knocking some sense into herself along with the slight pain. 

She shook her head and pushed against his forearms. “Dean! What the hell? What are you doing?”

He pulled his head up, licking his lips and panting heavily. His hands stilled, but they stayed warm against her ribs.

She tried to make sense of what was going on, but his tantalizing lips were still hovering above her and it was everything she could do to not simply ignore her sense of reason and latch on to them again. 

Instead she shook her head again and frowned. “Dean, what's going on? You were supposed to be on a date, remember?” She tried not to let too much vitriol into her voice, but felt like she’d failed. 

Dean’s jaw ticked. “I just drove her straight home.” He paused, still breathing rough. “I don’t want her.” His gaze dropped to her mouth again and he bit his bottom lip. “All I want is you.”

Y/N shook her head, willing herself to wake up and live with the disappointment of this all being a dream. “Dean,” she whispered, “what are you saying? Where is this coming from?”

Dean’s gaze turned sad before he closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to hers. “Don’t date him.”

Y/N frowned in confusion. “Don’t date who?”

Dean shoved away from her and ran a hand through his hair as he began pacing. “I know I have no right to ask you, I have no right to you, no right to love you, I know I’m poison, I know I’m an asshole for trying to make you connected to me, I know I’ll never deserve you.”

He stopped pacing and turned to look at her. “I know Tippington is probably a much better option, but…” He strode three paces back to her and cupped her cheeks in his big hands. “But he can’t possibly love you more, want you more. I know that too.”

All Y/N could do was blink at him and then suddenly his words penetrated her brain and tears flooded her eyes and she begged her mind to just let her keep sleeping, keep living in the dream. 

Dean’s face crumpled and he looked stricken. He pulled her against his chest and she buried her face there. “Shit, sweetheart, I’m sorry. It doesn't matter. Ignore me. It’s okay, I’ll be okay. You don’t have to say anything back. I didn’t mean to make you cry. Please don’t cry.”

His voice sounded choked and he rubbed a hand soothingly up and down her back. “I shouldn’t have come here like this. I’m an asshole, just ignore me, okay?” He repeated, and took a shuddery breath. “Date who you want, of course. Don’t cry.” 

Y/N pulled back from the softness of his flannel beneath her cheek, raising an eyebrow as she shook her head. “And what if I wanna date you? Does that declaration of love come with dinner and a movie?”

It was Dean’s turn to stare blankly at her. She reached up and dashed away her tears before wrapping her hands around the back of his head and pulling his lips back to hers. Y/N kissed him for a solid thirty seconds before his brain seemed to kick into gear and understand what she was saying. When he did though, he growled and deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms tightly around her ribs and pressing her close. She reveled in the long, hard feel of him pressed up against her, the way she’d dreamed of him for so many years.

When they were both desperate for oxygen they finally broke the kiss and panted harshly as they looked into each other’s eyes, both of them thrilled when they read the real, solid proof of love in the other’s gaze.

Dean’s beautiful face split into an equally beautiful smile. “So, are you really picking me?”

Y/N smiled back warmly and let her hands rest against his scruffy cheeks. “Dean, I love you, and I choose you completely, over everyone, anyone. But…” She grinned at him mischievously. “Scott Tippington is sixty-eight years old and has never been anything more than a good hunting partner. Just so we’re clear.”

Dean frowned. “But Sam said -” He cut himself short before closing his eyes and shaking his head. “So, I was jealous of nothing.”

Y/N laughed softly. “Were you jealous? Really? Like me with the waitress…Cindy.” She gave a little eye roll.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, we’re a couple of dumbasses.” 

Y/N punched him lightly in the bicep. “Speak for yourself. I wasn’t a dumbass, I was a tragic pining heroine. After all, you gave me no hints you felt this way; how could I have possibly known?”

“Are you serious?” Dean asked incredulously. “I did everything but climb into your lap and beg.”

Y/N laughed and then felt her body warm as she laid her hands on his broad chest. “I’d be onboard for that.”

Dean’s eyes darkened as he lowered his head and captured her lips in a long, languid, sensual kiss, just dipping his tongue in to taste her and sipping at her lips.

When he pulled out of the kiss to nuzzle the shell of her ear and then suck her earlobe between his plump lips, Y/N gasped and clutched his shirt in her hands.

“Please.” She whimpered.

Dean gave a soft, slightly wicked chuckle against her neck as he skimmed down her skin. “That was supposed to be my line, sweetheart.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

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Dean Fics Only:

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Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

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Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

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[rose-pearls]

I think cyclone could use some attention, how about an one shot where Beau is set up on a blind date, who ends up being a pilot under his command in dagger squad. Cyclone and the reader are shocked to see each, and they decide to make most of the night (despite VERY uncomfortable beginning). They end up at together. But have to keep it on the download since the reader is a Lieutenant, and he is a vice admiral. They end up having to explain it to the rest of dagger squad.

Hi!! I loved your request and I hope you like it!! So sorry it took so long but midterms have been kicking my ass lately.

Top Gun Taglist: @bisexual-watermelons (open)

Main Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open for every fandom)

He doesn’t know what he is doing here, god knows he should’ve known better then to let Warlock put him up on a date. 

He wasn’t lonely, not as much as his friend thought. But as much as he tries to convince himself of that every day, he would be lying to himself. He did miss having a person that knew him inside and out and who would be there at home when he came back from work. He even misses the intimacy, not necessarily the sex, but just the cuddles and the soft touches when passing each other.

But he hated this part, not knowing who you are going to meet and feeling utterly scared at what was about to happen. An old lady had been looking at him curiously ever since he had arrived and he tried not to think of it, focusing on trying not to sweat through his shirt, he was a vice-admiral for god sake. 

“Vice-Admiral Simpsons?”, the words are filled with surprise and as he looks up, he nearly faints at the sight of the woman in front of him.

“Lieutenant Floyd?”, the girl is looking at his with equally wide eyes and he tries to keep his breathing under control.

“What are you doing here?”, he asks after a moment, clearing his throat hoping that it would somehow get it to work properly.

“Admiral Bates told me to come here and meet my, uhm, my-”, the girl seems a bit uncomfortable to say the word to him, but Beau just nods his head slowly, mentally thinking of every way he could kill Warlock for this. 

“For a blind date?”, she nods shily at his words before sitting down on the chair in front of him.

He can’t help but look at her, she is a beautiful woman, he had known that since he had seen her sitting in front of him when she had just started her training. She was also incredibly smart, which seemed to be running in the family as her brother was the best WSO in the business. Warlock knew what he was doing, Beau had always had some sort of attraction towards her, unable not to pay attention to her when she was in the room.

He hears her clear her throat and he can’t help the blush that creeps on his cheeks as he realizes that he had been looking at her for a moment now.

“Sorry, Lieut-”, he doesn’t finish the sentence as he realizes that they aren’t on base and that he doesn’t need to call her that. 

He looks up as he hears her laugh softly before she whispers her name, a sweet smile on her lips that makes his heart race like when he was a teenager.

“Right, well call me Beau.”, he tells her, and she looks slightly nervous as she fidgets with the menu card.

“Not your usual setting either?”, she looks up at the question and he wants to kick himself, mentally telling himself that he should think before speaking but she somehow manages to make him lose all control.

“Not really, I’m busier with the Navy then with my dating life to be honest. Which is kind of sad when I say it out loud.”, she says with a shy smile and Beau can’t help but smile at the sight of it.

“Well seems like we already have one thing in common.”, she looks up at his words, surprise etched over her eyes as she looks at him.

“Really?”, it seems like she doesn’t believe him and Beau smiles at her bashful expression after the word.

“Well, the Navy is quite busy, especially these last few years.”, he tells her, feeling tired at the simple thought of everything he had to do the past years.

“Maverick keeping you busy?”, he hears the teasing tone in her voice but still he rolls his eyes at the question making her laugh.

“That man is taking more years of my life away every day.”, the laughter that follows makes him smile even wider, unable to hide it.

“He is quite the troublemaker.”, she says and Beau nods in agreement.

“That is an understatement.”, he doesn’t have time to ask her anything else before someone comes up to pick up their order and they find themselves scrambling to get the menu card and quickly look at it. He had been too busy paying attention to her that he hadn’t even thought about what he was going to eat.

“So, tell me about your day.”, she says, as if was as simple as that and after a moment of looking at her slightly dumbfound he starts to talk.

He doesn’t know how long they talk, probably far too long but he enjoys every second of it. Her laughter when he tells her the stories of when he was at the academy and her wide eyes with interest when he is telling her the most boring things. He can’t stop listening to her, watching her talk as she tells stories of her and Bob as children. 

“I’m sorry to disturb you but we are going to be closing soon.”, the waitress looks a bit nervous as she stands there, and he looks at his watch to see that it is already nearing midnight.

“Of course! So sorry.”, she quickly says, and the waitress looks relieved as they start packing their stuff.

“Here is your bill.”, she says, and Beau gets ready to pay for the bill before he sees her getting her own wallet.

“I’ll pay for it.”, he says simply, and she looks at him with a slight frown.

“You don’t have to do that, we can split the bill.”, she says quickly, her head held high, and Beau can’t help but smile at the sight of her.

“I’m sure we can but I want to pay for it.”, he says, and she looks at him, slightly doubtful before letting out a quiet sigh.

“Fine but I’m paying next time.”, the words make butterflies erupt in his stomach, realizing that she does want to see him again. A red blush appears on her cheeks as she realizes what she just said before she stutters over her words.

“I- I mean if you want to of course.”, he doesn’t even hesitate a second at her words.

“Of course, I would, I mean I don’t even want to say goodnight to you right now.”, he realizes the way the words could be understood as and he feels his cheeks burn with a blush.

“You know some people would take that as an invitation Vice-Admiral Simpson.”, there is a coy grin on her lips and he feels the urge to kiss that smile away and make her say his title again, the way it rolls of her tongue so easily makes him crave her in a way he hasn’t felt before.

“Would you want it to be Lieutenant?”, he knows that they shouldn’t, this is just their first date but god he doesn’t know how he will be able to let her go at the end of the night. The thought of being able to kiss her skin and feel her skin against his makes his blood rush south.

“I could be convinced.”, there is that teasing smile that doesn’t seem to leave her lips and a moment later he finally gets to kiss them, feel the softness of them against the cold wind on his skin. 

There is that smile that doesn’t seem to leave her lips and his, but he never wants to not see her smile.

“As much as it is tempting to take you home and trust me it is. How about we go on another date first?”, he asks her softly, looking at her sparkling eyes in the moonlight.

“Sounds like a perfect plan. Text me or call me, quickly.”, she seals the last word with a kiss before leaving him there, slightly dazed. She looks back a few times before she has to turn the corner and Beau wishes that she didn’t have to leave that soon.

--

He ignores Warlock’s knowing gaze when he comes into work the next morning and particularly the day after their second date, still feeling high on the adrenaline of the night before and that morning. 

“It seems like everything is going well.”, Warlock says, with his most innocent gaze, which doesn’t work, and Beau tries to ignore him.

“Not a word.”, he decides to say, trying to keep on a straight face but ultimately failing as a smile appears at the thought of her. 

He sees her during the day, it’s a blessing and a curse at the same time to have her this close to him but not being able to say anything. 

They had agreed to keep it under wrap as he was still her superior and she was also part of the Dagger Squad with her brother on it. 

“You know, Bob is wondering where I am spending all of my time lately.”, she whispers one night, her fingers tracing lazy patterns along his skin.

“What did you tell him?”, he asks, wondering what excuse she could’ve found to explain her absence. 

“Just that I was busy, but I don’t think he will be leaving me alone about it.”, she tells him, and he knows what she is trying to say.

“Do you think it’s a good idea to tell him?”, he asks her softly, wondering how the quiet WSO would react at the news of his older sister dating him.

“I think so, he told me that he admires you and he has no issues with me dating someone.”, she tells him, and Beau can’t help but feel prideful at the thought of the WSO admiring him.

“Alright, might as well do it now. But only him.”, he can’t help but laugh at the squeal she lets out before being smothered with kisses.

“Thank you! You will love Bob!”, she tells him as if he doesn’t know him, but he lets her talk about everything that they could do together.

“I’ll call him.”, she tells him a little bit later, he can hear the sleepiness in her voice and after a moment he hears her soft snores filling up the room.

--

“Now, Bobby, I want you to approach this with an open mind.”, you tell your brother, trying to calm down your nerves as he looks at you with raised eyebrows.

“I’m starting to get really scared.”, he says, and you try to shake your head, taking his hand and squeezing it in reassurance.

“Don’t you worry, you will like him.”, you simply say, looking across the Hard Deck towards the door and a moment later Beau arrives making you so excited that you accidently squeeze Bob’s hand to strongly.

“Aw! How strong are you?”, he says as he rubs his hand and you look at him with apologetic eyes, knowing that he isn’t mad.

“Alright Bobby, this is my boyfriend.”, you declare, and Bob turns around to find Beau in front of him. You don’t know what you were expecting but not your brother getting up and salute Beau.

“Sir.”, your boyfriend seems to find it funny as he tells him that it isn’t necessary and sitting down next to you. Bob scrambles back on his chair, looking between the two of you for a few minutes, you can feel Beau’s uneasiness at the staring.

“Thank god.”, Bob sighs and he seems to deflate, making you look at him with wide eyes.

“What do you mean ‘thank god’?”, you ask him, wondering who your little brother could have possibly thought you would’ve brought.

“I thought you were bringing Bagman.”

“Ieuw! Bob!”, you screech and your brother snorts at your reaction while Beau seems disgusted at the words.

“I’m sorry but you were being so secretive I thought of the worst-case scenario.”, Bob tells you, shrugging his shoulders and you can’t help but shake your head.

“So, I suppose that I’m not the worst-case scenario?”, your boyfriend asks and Bob smiles sheepishly.

“I think that you are a good man, as long as you treat her well there is no problem. But hurt her and I’ll make sure no one can find your body.”, Bob threatens, and you smile at the protectiveness of your little brother, Beau immediately agrees and before you know it the three of you are talking.

“What do we have here?”, you suddenly hear behind you and the three of you turn around to find the entire Dagger Squad looking at you with wide eyes.

“What do you want Hangman?”, you hear Bob say and the blond aviator smirks in response.

“Just wondering what the three of you are doing here on such a fine evening, without us.”, there is a pout on his lips that is as fake as the plants in the Hard Deck.

“Cry me a river Bagman.”, Bob says, and you can’t help but laugh softly at your brother’s annoyance. Hangman had been trying to annoy him since the start and recently Bob had been going against him making the blond aviator even more interested in him. Your little brother seemed obvious to it, but the cocky pilot had been trying to get in his pants since the start.

“Bagman is right for once, I’m also kind of curious.”, Phoenix says while ignoring Hangman’s winning smile and sitting next to Bob, making Hangman pout.

“Well, it’s a bit of a secret.”, you try to say and immediately the whole Dagger Squad sits down, eyes wide open like you were about to tell them all about a new plane.

“We are dating.”, you simply state as Beau puts his arm around your shoulders. There is a moment of silence before the whole group erupts in chatter except for Bob.

“Wait, what?!”

“You two are dating?”

“You didn’t tell me Bobby?”, you hear Hangman screech, and you can’t help but laugh at your brother rolling his eyes.

“Stop being dramatic, she just told me five minutes ago.”, Bob tells him, and the rest of the Dagger Squad turns to look at you.

“This has to stay under wrap, at least until you are all not under my command anymore. Is that clear?”, Beau asks and the whole squad agrees, looking at you with excited smiles.

“Scouts honor.”, Hangman says and the whole squad snorts at his words.

“Now tell us how it all started.”, Phoenix says, looking excited at the prospect of hearing how it all happened.

“And give us the juicy details.”, Halo says with a smirk before Bob clears his throat.

“Please don’t.”, he says and before you can answer Hangman puts his hand on Bob’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry Bobby I’ll be there to support you.”, this makes everyone laugh and as Bob rolls his eyes in answer.

“So, it all started with Warlock.”, you start, with Beau helping you fill in the blanks.

You couldn’t have imagined how that first date was going to be like, but you hadn’t expected anything like this to happen. And now surrounded by all of these people that you liked you can’t help but think that this was what life was supposed to be like.

[missmarveledsblog]

Hand on heart ( Jake Seresin x Singlemom!reader)

Chapter three

summary : as the nerves of the first day working , she bumps into a old unexpected friend which leads to mav finding out something he wished hadn't , her brother and sister in law take belle a day earlier and jake really starting to rethink his old ways.

warning : slight angst but not much , mostly fluff

previous part

Nerves hit the moment her eyes opened , the first day of her new job working with the navy of all things , irony of it still part of it somehow and yet not at all in the same breathe .  stretching out checking the  monitor seeing belle was also walking her little ass up .   she pulled her underwear on not caring as she got her clothes and overall ready .  as she ran into the toddler , t-shirt on underwear only hear a knocking on her door.  Rushing to her room throwing her over alls on tying  the top part around her waste as they headed to see who was at her door.  What she didn’t expect was hangman standing there bag in hand and coffee in the other. 

“ cluedo come on in  just gonna get belle diaper changed and then i’ll be with you “ she yawned . 

“ take your time strawberry  , i brought you guys breakfast since your first day and all and thank you for breakfast yesterday “ he smiled . 

“ well ain’t you a sweetheart , ya know where kitchen is  we will be back “ she called just as another knock at her door was heard . “ could you get that “ she yelled out . 

“ erm sure “ he nodded shaking his head as he opened door to see nat and rooster standing food and coffee in their hands . 

“ bagman?” the two head tilted . 

“ what you guys doing here ?” 

“ we should be asking you same thing “ nat pushed past . 

“ i came with coffee and food for her first day “ he shrugged. 

“ why you being nice … your after her aren’t you “ rooster gasping and wide eyed as nat  arching her brow almost sizing him up . 

“ no  its for her first day and thank her for breakfast it a southern thing you wouldn’t understand “ he rolled his eyes  was he lying out of his ass  , yes  he was . Did they need to know , no they did not . 

“ oh hey guys “ she appeared placing belle down toddler running  well sort of running down the hall stopping in from of rooster her little pacifier in her mouth as she help her little arms out at the man . Almost spilling  the coffee and food on nat when he shoved them in her arms. 

“ hey belle my little princess  how are we this morning “ he heading off into the kitchen as the followed after nat still eyeing jake suspiciously .  she ate the food  they bought leaving nats iced coffee for when she was driving as they talked away  about all different things filling the space as she moved around getting ready  once she did get  belle dressed and  gang heading out the door as  jake and bradley  where talking about the game coming up  that when her head spun to the  men . 

“ got my jersey ready “ she smiled brightly  and proudly  . 

“ your a football fan?” both men asked shocked. 

“ i grew up only girl in house filled with boys most time what you think “ she rolled her eyes .  “ you guys wanna come over watch it ?” she asked. 

“ oh your bigger than ours tv no brainer . 

“ good belle is going to my best friend cara’s for weekend  she like take her time to time give me a break but help it her aunt and my sister in law “ she smiled. 

“ wait means we can bring you to the hard deck after game “ phoenix eyes lit up . 

“ i guess it does better get going i’ll see  you at the hanger “ she waved.

Nerves once more hit as she parked  her car seeing  Mav standing with another man she knew as admiral beau simpson  one she spent going back and forth with on to get her well here . she honestly didn’t think it would end as it did but seems as though the man really did think she was the best. 

“ hey peach good to see you , you excited for your first day ?” Mav walked over. 

“ yes sir i am ready to go “ she beamed. 

“ captain mitchells been telling me you’ve been spending time with the dagger squad already that good to know your team “ beau nodded eyeing her up not expecting well her since most of their contact was over the phone. 

“ their great bunch sir , very welcoming “ 

“ you know i can’t believe it i noticed only after we talked it was you far gone since  the little girl i seen all those years ago “ he nodded as they began to walk in . 

“ sorry ? “ 

“ i was stationed in texas for little bit back in the day your grandfather was my commanding officer was even around after you were born “ he smiled. 

“ wait a  second … your dude tripped up the clown at my birthday party cause he scared hell out of me .. bowie “ her eyes went wide. 

“ bowie ?” Mav looked between the two . 

“  beau .. bowie  cause heroes it made sense when i was kid “ she shrugged. 

 “ hows your mom “ he asked more softer a look in his eyes  that didn’t go unnoticed by mav . 

“ i think she’s in vegas or L.A  not too sure don’t hear much from her “ she shifted awkwardly . 

“ well we will let you get to work kiddo  please bring little one to hanger sometime love to meet her” he nodded . 

“ will do she will lose her little mind “ she snorted. 

“ i’ll be there in a minute you go ahead “ mav patted her shoulder and she headed off seeing the other standing waiting for her. 

“ you knew her ? “ mav asked. 

“ course i did  i mean not til after and look more into her file  ,  was stationed there from since before she was born till she was six “ 

“ her mom …friend of yours “ 

“ in a way look …“ 

“ what way beau ?” 

“ she and that loser spilt for a while she cleaned up her act … thought we would be …  then i found out she and he still  ..”  he never was nervous man , yet here he was stuttering to mav. 

“ is she yours ?” he finally asked . 

“ no  no i was told she was mikes , leah said  she was certain “ 

“ your not too sure are you  why not reach out and see.. shit is that why you brought her here trying to make  up years of not being around “ mav stood . 

“ no i picked her cause she the best ,the fact she could be my daughter is no play in this now keep what we talked about to yourself i need to figure if i wanna do this “ 

“ do what beau pretend to be the  hero of  her childhood or another father in her life that didn’t bother  … yeah i’m not going to be the one to break that but we both know what you should do because she not alone she got a little girl  “ he scoffed walking off no even knowing where to even process the information he had just learned .   

Beau felt sick , he’s been feeling sick since he discovered who she was til her brother reached out asking beau to look out for her then it all came crashing reality. Knowing what he knew and added possibility of being a father and grandfather, he should of made it known all those years been a man but he was young and wanting to rise in ranks the immaturity evident even back then.  He never lost contact though part of him couldn’t and yet the coward in him would converse with others than her . now here she was  , seeing her daily  was it just the better thing of getting to know her again before dropping the bombshell or should he rip the band aid off but she could quit and go leave before he even got the chance to know the woman she was the whole thing was big fucked up mess with a bow tied on top .  so now he was sitting in his office trying to convince himself later would be better  , later bought he more time .  

She didn’t know why she was so nervous moment she got into the hangar she was straight into work almost bouncing around the place  . she wondered how the  machines were even running  first was nats  as she spotted the landing was more shaky then other although they were still no better as she  climbed the ladder getting to work . she also noticed the shit in pete mitchell the man was looking at her like she looked at dogs on those shelter commercials , at one point she was sure he was going to hug her before patting her back and telling her she did a good job as she and rooster eyes followed the man confused.  As she walked into the cafeteria she almost surprised when admiral simpson called her to join her as they other looked even more confused. 

“ family friend “ she shrugged . 

“ we’ll see you after “ nat smiled although her eye looked back to the admiral something didn’t sit right with how the man was looking at her it wasn’t good or bad but it was weird. 

“ sir how are you “ she smiled softly taking a seat . 

“ please kid call me beau or bowie if you want” he chuckled nervously. 

“ with all due respect even if you were my grandfather i would address you as sir at work “ she shook her head. 

“ ok ok fair enough how have you been i can’t believe the little girl  i used to know was the one  battling it out with me on the phone “ . 

“ negotiating  with you on phone , i’m good i mean i got belle and she is light of my life and my brothers  , i guess you heard my grandmama passed away “ she sighed a little sadly. 

“ i did when i got home i was deployed at the time no contact i wish i could of made it “ 

“ it’s ok her own daughter didn’t even come but i got other family that did that’s all that matters “ she shrugged. 

“ belle she what two ? “ he asked shifting seeing her eyes starting to well alittle but mention of her daughter had her beaming again . 

“ yeah she is ,  she is  cutest little thing everyone says she like me , benny is sure she is my little clone wanna see a picture “ she asked already pulling her phone out .  

“ y-ye-yeah  “ he hand held out as he looked down he could of sworn he was looking at her as a baby  making his chest tighten and guilt and every emotion building up more and more before he handed back the phone . “ she’s beautiful i’d love to meet her , what about her father does he help ?”  . 

“ nah my ex husband is currently  remarried on other side of the word he wasn’t ready for a baby not many are but hell she has me and my brothers adore her , dagger squad do as well even thought it been so short of time she is obsessed with them all “ she chuckled  making him smile only to look up see mav glaring at him . 

“ you got married ?” his eyes widened . 

“ stupidly yes i thought it would give belle the father i never had you know “she shook her head laughing how stupid she was at the time  they weren’t even in love at time but she thought it was right and so did he til reality set in . her words hitting him like a freight train . 

“ oh shit i have a meeting erm here “ he stood almost throwing his card . “ text me and we will have a catch up properly saturday ?”  . 

“ i’m busy but sunday before belle comes home she going to benny and cara’s for the weekend “ she stood .

“ great see you then “ he rushed off only for her to head to the others as mav passed by her giving her that strange look again . 

“ what’s with that man “ she shook her head.  

The rest of the day was easy enough little repairs here and there  as they all praised the fact their jet were running the best they have in a long time .  she was full of grease and oil by end of the day and ready to hit her bed she was so tired.  She picked up dinner before she collected belle  who seemed to be as tired or so she thought the new lease on life came the moment she stepped in the door as she set the toddler down  plating up their food she washed her face and hands first getting the oil off throwing on sweats she needed to wash knowing she would shower once the toddler was sleep and when the time did come  she didn’t even savor it  more a quick in and out washing the day away so she could get into her bed wondering what the week a head would hold fo her .

The week seemed to breese by each morning jake of all people showed up breakfast in hand til  come the fourth time she just opened the door letting him in as she went to get belle and herself ready while he was plating up the food . seemed it wasn’t a morning thing it was a quick and fast friend ship growing during the week it was sometimes him alone or with the dagger squad then thursday cara called to say they were coming earlier to get more time with belle so now she  she was sitting in her car as she saw her brother and cara  waiting only off one flight and ready for another .

“ y’all crazy doing this “ she hugged them both . 

“ we missed her and you .. wish you were coming too “ cara pouted . 

“ i will next time ok , you be good girl ok mama will see you in couple days “ . 

“ enjoy the break peach  … beau get in touch ?” he asked . 

“ yeah i see him everyday sometimes we get lunch why ?”

“ just asking  , oh i put in the request hopefully hear back soon come down here “ he smiled as cara rolled her eyes . 

“ we will be down here he ain’t gonna stop til we are”she laughed. 

“ we better go love you peach we  see you monday “ he called as she turned. 

“ but i thought it was sunday ?” 

“ it was we didn’t no whoops see you monday oh and i’m staying for couple days check out the base “ he added. 

“ why couldn’t you text me ?” she asked. 

“ because you come up with reasons to say no “ he smirked . 

“ by belle baby be good for aunt cara .. be an ass for benny “she rolled her eyes kissing the tot one more time before handing over her things . watching them walking she could see benny looking back giving her sad smile  then she sat in her eyes crying  to which she didn’t know why it was only couple of days but still  it was her baby .  she wiped her eyes and head to the hard deck knowing she promised to meet the guys their  after telling them belle was going maybe it was the distraction she needed . It also made her wonder of her mother how the woman was didn’t feel like this , belle was going for a couple of days and she was lost completely but her mother was able to leave and no take a look back it was astounding how she could do that . she pulled up to the hard deck it  felt different from the day they went  when it was closed people starting to head in as she saw jake standing outside a woman already talking to him  . 

He didn’t remember this chick and yet she was all over him like they did maybe  he was a hound dog. He wasn’t out here for her , he was waiting y/n  all day he could see  it eating away knowing she was thinking of some way to cancel and keep belle at home must of been hard on her that was for sure then he seen her car pulling up as he ignore whatever her name was . he watched as she was approaching the force smile on her face didn’t hide the redness of her eyes . 

“ i’ll see you in there if your not already to busy “ she chuckled looking to  the woman throwing herself at him before heading in the door . never was he embarrassed by his exploits hell he bragged about them like he was at a championship but now , now he was  telling the girl no  and heading in thinking off how to explain his way out of it not that he had to but he did in a sense . he seen her standing at the bar chatting away to penny and he could see them all looking almost waiting and  now he definitely was rethinking his policy on single moms because he couldn’t stand them looking at her like that , like he would with every woman he had met now this was different . 

“ i’m so fucked “ he groaned heading to the dagger squad instead of to the bar where he really wanted to go instead. ignoring the woman calling his name or his friends watching him like a hawk all he knew was he was well and truly fucked.

[chaifootsteps]

do you think Homer Simpson is a better father than Stolas? my instant response is 'yes' but it's kind of hard to articulate why

on the surface they share a lot of the same flaws - selfishness, insensitivity - but I think what makes the difference for me is that Homer does show up for his kids when they need them

even Stolas' best moment as a father - when he actually listened to Via at Loo Loo Land - pales in comparison to the speech he gives Lisa when Mr Bergstrom leaves, or the Do It For Her photo (working a job he hates for Maggie's sake - Stolas wouldn't know anything about working or sacrifice) or...to be honest I'm blanking on a nice moment between him and Bart but I think there must be one in there somewhere.

when you compare the worst they've ever done it's no contest either. the closest Homer ever got to bringing someone he was cheating with around his kids was when the wife he accidentally married in Vegas showed back up in a late season episode. and he not only didn't want her around but she arguably took advantage of him because the two women got him and Ned hitched in a Vegas wedding because he was drunk, he didn't do it willingly

and whenever he messes up big enough to jeopardize the family he puts them first. I certainly can't imagine Homer moping around distracted by something else if a hitman is a danger to Marge or the kids!

I don't know if Homer's a better dad, but I think it's pretty close and if nothing else, he's a much funnier one. He's a deeply loving father whose crappy parenting is played for laughs as opposed to Stolas, who's coddled by the narrative and whose daughter is increasingly vilified for his mistakes.

As an aside, this exchange is pure Stolas.

"I promise you kids lots of things. That's what makes me such a good father!"

"Actually, keeping promises would make you a good father."

"No, that would make me a great father."

[multifan2022]

Cyclone x Mavsdaughter 4

Masterpage

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Your head snapped to the side as you heard your daughter's voice. You watched as Penny called for her to stay on the deck. But Emery was a daddy's girl at heart, and no one ever could stop her from getting to Beau. Your body tensed as Beau crouched down to scoop her into his arms. You could feel the shock in the group around you. Could hear the whispers of “Daddy?” And “What the fuck”. That last one came from Rooster you knew. Emerys voice cut threw the panic though “Mommy! Look Daddys here!” 

Beau looked at you and even with his sunglasses on you knew he was looking at you with sympathy. He knew this isn't how you wanted anything to come out, but life was pretty cruel. “The better question is why you're here little lady.. Why aren't you at school?” Beau asked as you got closer to him, having broken away from the group. You answered and told him it was canceled, trying to ignore the glare Maverick was giving you as you stepped next to your little family. 

Beau leaned down and kissed your forehead, resting his free hand on your hip as he looked at the group of aviators over your head. Javy and Jake looked unsurprised, because Jake already knew, and what Jake knew Javy knew. Nat, Hondo, Bob, Payback and Fanboy all looked confused. The others had run off to play on their own, not being part of the group in the same way. But when his eyes landed on Rooster, he could see the pure anger rolling off the man. One that he desperately wanted to shield you from, but didnt know how to.

When he pulled back, he could see tears in your eyes. At this moment you weren't Captain Simpson, his strong beautiful wife. You were the girl he watched stand at your tap out ceremony alone. The one who cried when a random woman came and tapped her out. The girl who refused to believe for the longest time that he was even remotely interested in her. The one he didnt see again until you entered Top Gun. The one who had to rebuild herself with the help of himself after being left by not only her father, but her best friend and first love. He wasn't happy to see the sadness and vulnerability in your eyes. 

“If you want.. You can invite them over, I'll call Solomon, I'm sure they will watch Em for the night so we can all talk..” Beau said, moving his hand from your hip to wipe the tears from your cheeks. You nodded but didn't make a move to do anything, so he sighed and kissed your forehead again. “Go home, I'll meet you there.” You didn't look back as you kissed Emerys cheek and told her to be good for her uncle. Practically running to your jeep before speeding out of the parking lot. 

Beau sighed again, setting Em down “Baby go get your stuff from Penny and say thank you. You're gonna go stay with Uncle Solo for a while ok?” The little girl nodded and talked animatedly about her uncle's dogs for a moment before running to get her stuff. Cyclone turned and let himself fall back into work mode in a nanosecond as he looked down at Maverick. The shorter man was glaring at him in a way that he assumed was supposed to be intimidating, but he was nowhere near scared.. Like at all. 

“I'll text you our address.. You can show up in an hour and we can all talk like adults. Or not, it doesn't really matter to me. But this is probably your last chance to have a shot at being in your daughter or granddaughter's life.. So choose carefully Maverick.” 

~~~

Thirty minutes later the squad was following Mavericks bike as they passed through a clearly gated community. The security guard waved them on, having already received a call from Beau and watched sadly as you pulled through crying. You were both highly respected members of the community and he hated seeing you upset. The gps led him into the driveway of a gorgeous 2 story Crosby style home. Phoenix gasped as she and Bob got out of her car and commented about how it looked custom. Even from the outside it was clear the home was both lived in and taken care of. Your jeep was parked in the open 4 car garage, waiting for Beaus truck. Three bikes, one that was clearly for Emery, a pogo stick, skateboard, roller blades and a handful of other toys were leaned against the far wall. 

Rooster didn't know how to feel about any of this. He couldn't see past his anger. Anger that you had moved on and he hadn't. That some rather large part of him always thought you would just be waiting on him. He was mad that Emery had dark hair, but it didn't have the golden brown color his did, it had the deep chocolate brown that Beaus did. That her eyes were green instead of brown. That her last name as well as yours were Simpson instead of Bradshaw. 

Deep deep down he knew he had nobody to blame but himself, and maybe a lack of therapy but mostly himself. But he couldn't stop looking at this huge house and comparing it to the bungalow his parents had left him. His was a nice home, but this was immaculate in comparison and it only made his anger hotter. When they stepped inside he took in the huge wood doors and the stone floors clicked against everyone's steps. While everyone besides Maverick ooh and ahhed over how absolutely breathtaking the home was, he just watched you. 

They all followed you down the hall, looking into a huge living room with a 70 in TV and a large wrap around couch. Then an equally as beautiful kitchen and dining room, before they entered a billiards room. All the guys making comments about wanting to play as they stepped back outside and fell silent again. You had led them to the private deck out back. It has multiple seats and tables scattered around it. But it was clear you wanted them to sit at the long one with 10 or so seats. Phoenix and Hondo were busy gushing over the bird of paradise everywhere, while Javy was talking about the pool with a little waterfall and hot tub. 

They didn't notice when you crossed the deck and stepped into sliding glass doors and dropped thick curtains, but Mav and Rooster did. When you walked back towards them you nervously looked back over your shoulder, hoping to see your husband but he clearly isn't back yet. You didn't know but Solomon had met Beau at the car to take Emery. He was now speeding across the neighborhood to get back to you. He didn't want to leave you alone as much as you didnt want to be alone. You stepped back to the table and sighed, “I ah.. I ordered pizzas.. There's a fridge right here by the grill.. Its got beer and water if anyone wants some..” 

You tried to swallow past the thickness in your throat as a few of them got up and helped themselves. Jake almost felt bad when he noticed how nervous you were, and by the end of the night the guilt of wanting this to happen would be eating him alive. As he looked around his eyes watching the beautiful dark skinned man grab two beers, he wondered how he would feel if someone found out about him and Javy and outed them before they were ready. He thought about pulling you aside and apologizing but knew that would just make things worse. When everyone resettled you anxiously tapped your fingers until Hondo sat his hand on top of yours and squeezed. 

“I feel like a dummy.. I've known you were married for years and never thought to ask. It's shocking to me that it's Admiral Simpson of course.. But now that I think back I can see it.. He looks at you differently. Softer look, softer tone, I can't believe I never second guessed it.” He squeezed your hand again before pulling back, and him speaking seemed to be what everyone needed to start talking. 

Phoenix was next, “Yeah I obviously don't know you well but it is crazy to think of Cyclone as a husband.. Even more as a dad. He's just so stoic and domineering, I dont think Ive ever really pictured him having a life outside of work.” She pauses clearly contemplating something before speaking softer “Which now that I think about it is kinda shitty..” She had seen the way he held you, kissed your head and taken on a burden you clearly couldn't. The soft way he looked at both you and your child on the beach. How he smiled down at Emery as she ran to him. It was clear that there was a side to Cyclone they were not privy to. 

The others nodded in agreement as you smiled shyly. “Beau is.. Complicated I guess you could say. He very much has a work life and a home life and beyond me he likes to keep them separate. We try to not interact much at work, so that people aren't saying things..” You look at Hangman out of the corner of your eye and see him cringe a little. “It's also not widely known, clearly, that we are married. People see Beau as someone who's married to his job. Noone thinks of people like him as people who do things like go to their daughters soccer games and such. Between that and me not changing my name it's really only known in the higher ups. And since I don't get moved around a lot thankfully, it's not gossiped about.” Sighing you look down at the table and start picking at a spot before speaking quieter “It's mostly just talk about how people didn't realize Maverick had a daughter.. So that kept the spotlight off my marriage.” 

The group was silent again as they all turned to Mav who had an unreadable expression on his face. Rooster scoffed, not even trying to hide it behind a swig of beer as he looked at you. You just stared back at him, daring him to say what you knew he wanted to say. It only took a moment or two before he broke “So how long after you left did you wait before jumping into bed with a commanding officer? That's how you got out of Mav pulling your papers too huh.” Even though you were all outside, and the air was cooling off thanks to the setting sun and the fans on the overhang, it felt like it all had been sucked out. Nobody dared to move, or even blink as the two of you watched each other. 

“You left me Bradley.. You left then Maverick left. And not that it's anyone's business but I didn't not jump into bed with Beau-” Mavericks voice cut you off as he sighed and wiped a hand down his face “God it's weird to hear you call him that..” Anger was starting to roll under your skin as you looked at the two men who had clearly built an unspoken alliance to try and make you feel bad. The shitty thing was, it was working. These two men had broken you into tiny pieces when they left. Made you feel small, and unworthy as the dust settled. So no matter how angry you felt right now, pieces of that broken girl were starting to shine threw. 

“I call him by his name outside of work, because we are married.. And no.. Maverick didn't pull my papers because until the start of this mission he didn't even know I was in the Navy.. Ice knew, but I've always been second to you Bradshaw.. They weren't worried about me anymore because I suddenly had no attachments to you.” Bradley scoffed again, not believing at all that Mav didn't know. Maverick was offended and spoke again. “You're telling me Ice knew? Do you really think I wouldn't have been there for you had I known?” 

It was your turn to scoff, even if there were tears streaming down your face. “Ice knew I was an aviator, Slider was one of my Top Gun teachers the first time I was here. And yeah Maverick.. As a matter of fact, I know you wouldn't be there. Ice said you never once asked him to look for me after you guys up and left. So you don't know that I stood at my tap out ceremony and cried when one of my classmates' moms tapped me out. You don't know that I pushed BEAU away for almost a year because I thought I was unlovable because my dad left me. Who wants a girl who isnt even loved by her father?!” 

You were full on crying by this point, Hondo had leaned forward again and grabbed one of your hands. He had always had mad respect for your dad, but at this moment he was so angry at him. “I had to walk myself down the aisle. I've had to explain time and time again that ‘yes i'm the daughter of Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. No we are not the same. And No I can't tell him you said hi.. He hasn't spoken to me in almost 20 years.’ I got myself into flight school. For your information, Bradley, I didn't meet Beau officially until I was 26, YOU left ME when I was 17. So I waited almost ten years, sorry that wasn't good enough for you but what did you expect? Did you think that I would just be sitting around waiting to see if one day you would want me again?” 

Bradley was getting angry again, his mouth was saying things before his brain was even processing them. “Well I sure as hell didn't think I'd come back to find you married with kids.. I can't believe you sold yourself out to someone like him. Was it really the daddy issues like Hangman said? Pathetic.” The last word was whispered but everyone heard it. Phoenix aimed a kick at Bradleys knee that had him grunting in pain but not backing down. “What happened to ‘Forever and Always’, I know its from that stupid show you loved growing up but I thought we were end game. But no, you're just like your dad, lying to me and leaving.” Over Bradleys angry voice, nobody heard the front door shut, or the clicking of Beaus' shoes as he carried pizzas towards the deck.

You were so blown away by everything he said that you couldn't even respond, unfortunately that gave Maverick time to speak. “Past everything Bradley said, I can't believe you never reached out to me. You clearly had contact with Tom, you never asked him to ask me to call.. Never thought ‘maybe my dad will want to know I'm marrying someone who hates him?’ Never wondered if I would want to walk you down the aisle? Jesus.. You kept my granddaughter away from me!” 

You jumped slightly when he slammed his beer bottle down on the table. The rest of the group was glaring at the two men as tears continued to stream down your cheeks. You didn't know what to say, your dad was angry with you and you couldn't find the part of you who didn't care. The part that spent years telling yourself that you deserved to be happy. To move on from waiting for them to come back, that if they don't care neither do you. Just as you opened your mouth to apologize, boxes of pizza were unceremoniously dropped onto the table startling everyone again. 

No one around the table had heard Beau come in, but they could tell by the look on his face as he watched Maverick that he had heard everything. He turned and held his hand out to you, watching as you silently got up and grabbed it. Following him into the billiards room before he pulled the door shut behind him. Hondo rounded on Maverick as the rest watched Beau speak to you through the glass door. “Pete, I have always stood behind you but you are being an ass. This is 100% your fault. I didn't even know you had a kid before I met her! And I've known you her whole life! Get it together before I lose all respect for you!” 

 Hondos' rant was cut off by the door opening and closing again. Every single one of them swore they could feel a shift in the air, like all the air around them was suddenly circling. Cyclone was giving off the energy that earned him his name, but he promised himself he would try to contain the storm. Minimize the destruction, for his wife if nothing else. He wanted to see you happy again, like you were on the beach earlier. He knew how hard it was for you to hold back from those your own age. He also knew you did it as a way to protect yourself and your marriage. 

If no one got close to you, they couldn't use your husband's position against you. They couldn't use it for their own advancement, they couldn't hold it over your head or push for you to talk to him. You had made comments about how you also didn't want any young officers to find any reason to try and flirt with you. You didn't want to give off the wrong impression and hurt Beau, knowing that he was always worried about the age difference. It never occurred to you that your husband was more than confident in your marriage. Never once in the years since you had Emery had he ever worried about you leaving. 

Beau ‘Cyclone’ Simpson was a very confident man, not in the way Jake is, but in his own way. He's the type of man to buy you flowers because he saw them on his way home and thought they were pretty. He planned not only date nights with you, but daddy daughter dates because he always wanted Em to know how she should be treated. Cyclone is a firm believer in his children learning from the best, and when it came to being a man, and being a husband he was the best. Emery would never get a better mother or woman to learn from than you, and he strived every day to be your equal. Even if he would never believe that he was. 

“I sent Y/n to grab some towels and a case of extra swimsuits, I'm sure there's something that would fit you all.. After you eat your welcome to the pool or hot tub if you would like to stay.” Beau tapped his fingers on the table as he stood, looking around at the men and women at his table. His voice was hard as steel and cold as he spoke again, “But let me make this abundantly clear. This is MY home, mine and MY wifes. We have owned this home since before it was built, we brought our daughter home from the hospital to here.. And I will not in anyways tolerate you or anyone disrespecting her, not anywhere but especially not here. This place is meant to be her safe haven and I will throw you out on your ass before I let you even chip away at any of that safety.” 

Jake and Phoenix swore the hairs on their arms rose as he spoke. When he was done everyone but Bradley and Maverick nodded. “The two of you have done nothing but disrespect my wife time and time again. From before I even knew her, now unfortunately I can't go back and fix that, but I can't stop it from happening anymore. SO let's settle a few things, First and foremost” Beau held up one finger, resisting the urge to shove it into Rooster's eye as he spoke. “You, Lieutenant Bradshaw will talk to and treat my wife like she is one of your commanding officers, because she is. No amount of personal knowledge of someone, or time frame of friendship overrides that in the Navy. And son.. If you keep acting like you being her first love means you have some type of claim or hold over her, I will have you packing your bags and flying for American Airlines so fast it will make your head spin.” 

Everyone's eyes widened, this was an even newer side to Beau, one that he had never really needed to show. Phoenix, Hondo, and Javy were impressed. Jake and Bob were about to piss their pants. “You may have been her first love, Son.. But I intend to be her last.. And yes that's from said stupid TV show you were talking about earlier. It's called ‘The Vampire Diaries’ and ‘The Originals’. You may hold all her firsts, but I hold her bests, and her lasts, so I suggest you get over it quickly because I AM her FIRST and ONLY husband. The FIRST and ONLY father of her children, so it would be in your best interest to wrap that thick skull around that knowledge.” Bradley stared down at the table, his anger was still present but he could feel himself cooling off.. He just wanted to leave, try to sort all this out in his head before he talked to you again. 

Beau could see the gears turning in Bradleys head and decided he had given him enough. Now he turned to the only man he could truly say he hated. “You Maverick. Have been dangerous and irresponsible from the day you joined the Navy. Not only in how you fly but in the lifestyle you live. I can completely understand going out of your way to help raise your passed wingman's son. It was commendable that you tried to help him, even if you failed. However it is not commendable that you left your own child behind, what would the Bradshaws say if they knew that you haven't spoken to your daughter in 20 years? That you didn't know she was someone's wife? Someone's mother?”

Maverick didn't want to think about that, he tried not to as he kept listening. “You left and shattered a 17 year old girl, left her to fend for herself. To grow up herself. You didn't even know she joined the Navy but you knew Bradley did. You didn't even know where she was living.. IF she was living. You are the worst kind of parent and every single day Y/n proves that she is better than you in EVERY single way. From how she teaches at Top Gun, to how she raises our daughter. You can not like me all you want but you will respect my wife, your daughter or I will have you dishonorably discharged faster than your boyfriend can read. It will be done and signed before Iceman even has a chance to protest, do not play with me.” 

The two of them stare each other down, it was clear that Cyclone was not going to back down. “You can either grow up.. And try to be in your granddaughter's life or you can leave now. But if you leave right now the door will not open again.. With that being said, you are all welcome to stay or leave. At the moment I don't really care, I'm going to check on my wife and when I get back those who want to leave should probably be gone.”

~

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Who do think will stay and who will go?

~

What do you want to happen next?

~

@luckyladycreator2 @winterrebel04 @millieb-3199 @xoxabs88xox @archaeologydigit @topgunruinedme @lillyrosenight @blessednotluckyme  @scorpiomindfuck​  @bregarc @person-wholikes-reads @hangmandruigandmav @beaner-life-23 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @smolalien13

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[moonacrefarm]

anticipating love

summary: your parents marriage didn’t survive the test of time and neither did you first love. 

contains: childhood friends to lovers to strangers, second-chance romance, angst, hurt/comfort, slight miscommunication, fluff, 18+ series, mentions of stalking, mentions of cancer, no mention of y/n

authors note: so...uh, here it is :D

series masterlist

next part | 02. never hesitating

01. watching, i keep waiting

It felt like clockwork. An annual phone call from your estranged father, asking for a few life updates before awkwardly ending the call. This time, the silence hung in the air longer than the usual three minutes, a quiet hesitation you stuck around for.

Beau "Cyclone" Simpson was known for being a stickler for the rules; strict and to the point. He wasn't a natural-made family man; your mom accused him of hiding in his work and neglecting his duties as a husband and father. It was the last argument they had before she stuffed you in the backseat of her car.

They hadn't seen each other since.

However, this time, the anxiety could be felt through the phone, "Dad? Is there something else you need?" You inquired.

He sighed, "How… How's your mother?" The edge that settled in his voice finally clicked. He knew. A few deep breaths later and you gathered the strength to speak.

"She's…getting better. The doctor said there's hope." Silence followed again. It felt as if time slowed before he spoke again, “There’s a doctor here in San Diego who can treat her. We never divorced so… if she wants to I can…” He went quiet for a moment. “I know the move would be taxing but you guys would be closer to family and—”

“I'm not sure if she would want that, dad.” You spoke softly, gently cutting him short. “I've tried to convince her to take the recommendation, but…you have to speak to her.” Further silence followed. You could almost hear his heart hammering over the phone.

Your parent's relationship was a mystery to you. They’d never divorced but you were uprooted and planted halfway across the country when they separated. Your father didn’t fight and your mom didn’t have it in her to keep up with him. He’d prioritized his career over his family, and you knew he regretted it following your and your mother's departure.

Sure, you’d seen him sparsely throughout the years, receiving birthday gifts and visiting for holidays, but the damage had been done.

"Alright. You're right. I'll try to talk to her as well." He conceded. You didn't respond, whispering a soft goodbye before pivoting towards the window.

Observing as your mother tended to her garden, humming along with the radio. You had made a home in Virginia, but was it home? Both of your mother’s and father’s families were on the West Coast and the state held bitter memories after a failed engagement.

She'd always been stubborn, and while you weren't your father's advocate, you couldn't lose her. You understood this was her best option, yet she refused to take it.

It felt like days they spent speaking over the phone. Your father fighting tooth and nail to match your mother.

“You can’t honestly expect me to move halfway across the country for a maybe.” She spat. You couldn’t hear your father’s response but whatever he said softened her, wilting as her eyes filled with tears. She glanced at you. “Fine. We’ll see you then.” Her shoulders slumped as she made her way towards you, plopping on the couch and leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Pack your swimsuit. We’re going home.”

Phone calls had been made, flights booked, boxes shipped and suddenly you were standing in your childhood room. Not much had changed, except for the piled-up boxes that had been pushed into the corner. Memories hung around like outdated decor, a bitter taste filling your mouth.

A light knock jerked you out of your stupor.

“I didn’t know what to do…so I left it as it was.”Your father stood at the door. His frame taking up most of the space.

You inhaled a shaky breath, “Do you think it will work?” The fragility in your voice was noticeable as he inspected your face with a crease in his brows, lips pursed. “I hope so.”

Not much else was said as you continued to unpack. Mentally running through your to-do list for the next month and a half. Your mom had a doctor's appointment set for next week, and all you could hope for was promising news in the meantime.

Your mother's illness put a hiatus on your life. Her diagnosis turned your axis on its head; stability gone in a wink. Now you were unsure. Unsure of your future, of time, of her future. You decided to take time off of work and dip into your savings, this move wouldn’t strain you. If you were lucky, you’d be able to find a job near base, hopefully in some clinic. You couldn’t focus on patients when you’d see your mother in everyone. Time lost in your career wouldn’t compare to the time you valued with your mother.

While strolling through the house, you noticed your old family photos hadn’t been moved. Not a speck of dust to be seen in the home as you glanced at your parents in the living room. The tension was easy to notice. It permeated the air and left a heavy feeling in your lungs.

Words were waiting to be said you didn't want to be around for the aftermath. Not only to spare yourself from the debris of their approaching fight but also to give yourself the freedom to reset. Your emotional turmoil was eating you alive you needed some time to breathe.

“I’m gonna go visit Penny, she said to head down the bar once we were settled.” A swift kiss on your mother's cheek while she murmured, “Send her my regards.”

San Diego was a time capsule, the neighborhoods aging while the city was ever-changing. Familiar streets diverging off to ones you didn’t recognize. It’d only been a few years since you’d last come down and somehow that was enough time to reinvent the city.

Hard Deck itself had seemed the same, the amiable environment and ocean breeze skimming your cheeks. You’d arrived before the pub opened, approaching with excitement and allowing the bell to signal your arrival.

“Here I thought you were gonna stand me up?” Penny glanced over you with shining eyes, “Looks like at least oneSimpson can keep a promise.” A grin filled her face as she embraced you, her hug providing the warmth and consolation you needed after a massive move. “Where’s your mother?”

“Having it out with my dad” She winced.

“No wonder you got here before the bar opened.” You two shared a knowing look. You knew Penny had questions. Your mother was private about her sickness and never disclosed details. She even attempted to keep things from you. “Mom is down to see a doctor who might be able to help. I don’t know how the hell dad convinced us to share a roof but here we are.” You shrugged, wrapping behind the bar for a waist-apron.

Penny understood, bouncing her head as she gave you a gentle smile, “She's a determined woman. I believe she'll beat its ass before it even thinks twice about getting her.”

A faint huff came out of your mouth, “You know, you’re not wrong…” Before you could continue, Penny chimed in.

“There's a reason they referred to her as Hurricane, not only to piss off your dad but being an admirals daughter made her tough. Hell, your grandfather could barely keep her in check. He said he could control your mother or do his job.”

Laughter filled the bar, resounding through the empty building. The two of you calmed down, and you nodded your head in mortification, arranging some of the spirits as she continued.

“Hey, there's a reason we call you a little spitfire. Your dad and your mom? Of course, they'd create a vixen.”

A delicate smile graced your face, "I missed you, Penny." You admitted, "And I you. It’s not every day I get to see my favorite niece.” She tapped your nose as she turned to clean the bar top.

“Penny, I’m your only niece.”

“Details, details..” She hitched a tub of glass cups on her hips, waving you off, “If you aren’t gonna get to work, I’m gonna have to throw you overboard. We got a boat docked today.” You giggled at your aunt’s antics, appreciating her ability to keep the conversation light.

Penny glimpsed at you curiously, “Have you talked to….anyone else since you got back?” You understood what she asking without having her clarify. “Just some family members.” She gave you the eye, “But no. Haven’t spoken to Bradley in eight years and counting.”

“I thought you guys reconciled after you both graduated?”

“Not really. We talked sure, but we hadn’t spoken between then and when we finally did, things went to shit.”

Penny bobbed her head in understanding. "Stick jockeys… the only thing that keeps them grounded is insubordination." A huff fell off your lips as you got busy moving between tables. The crowd came in all at once, hordes of uniforms tottering in, some with arm candy, others eyeing for arm candy. This kept you in constant motion; gathering up drinks, bringing refills, making cocktails, and dancing around the jukebox.

The throng kept you light-headed, and you were thankful for it.

Groups of locals, navy sailors, and aviators cheered, drank, and sang. You were grabbing a refill for someone at the bar as Penny flirted with someone who looked vaguely familiar; he flashed her a warm smile as you tried to place him.

The distraction was short-lived when you took a pool stick to the hip. Your tray tilting into the hands of an arrogant aviator, his grin cocksure as he glanced you up and down, “Sorry dove,” He started, restacking the glasses, “I didn’t—”

“Careful.” You warned. “Disrespect a lady and get the bell.” Your finger pointed as a mischievous smile graced your face, “I think a pool stick to the hip is reason enough, no?” Your hands had been itching all night to ring the bell, it’d be a while.

“What if I help you carry this tray of glasses to the bar and work on an apology for you?” His green eyes filled with mirth, both of you enjoying this small pissing match.

“Much obliged.” You dumped the tray in his unsuspecting hands and he stumbled to keep it upright. Some of his fellow aviators cheered you, amused by the exchange. You made your way behind the bar as he handed you the tray, “Sorry for sticking it ya...” He pondered off, massaging the back of his neck, “Didn’t know you were behind me, I wouldn’t have gone so far back if I did.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“If I ask for refills would that ruin the apology?” He grins sheepishly.

You barked out a laugh, “What if I charge you double for your beers and consider it even?”

“Sold!”

He skimmed you over one more time. “Can I get your name on the side?” Silence fell between you two as you reached for the beers. He leaned on the bar, relaxing as he drew everyone's gaze towards him.

You let out a small laugh, deciding to toy with him a bit. "Callsign?" He knotted his brows together, "Hangman." You bobbed your head. "Top Gun graduate?" He nodded once again. You leaned in next to his ear, your voice quiet, "Piece of advice, Lieutenant….” You glanced into his eyes, whispering, “You might not want to hit on the daughter of the vice-admiral."

You didn't typically pull out your dad's rank, but this time it was worth it. His mug slipped, paling slightly. "They call me little Simpson. But hush,” You dragged a finger over your lips, “This is a secret between you and me.” You gave a small smirk. "Here are your beers sir," He didn't say another word as he toddled back towards his table, his crowd hollering at his stupefied disposition.

The sun had just started to set, disappearing behind the horizon and you called Penny for your break. You tucked away your apron as she took over, pumping cocktails and drinks out with ease. “I’m heading down to the shore for a bit, I missed California sunsets.”

“Remember, I need you back in 15!” She called after you, too occupied flirting.

The sand was warm and the breeze was gentle. Allowing yourself to unwind as you sit in the sand, resting your head on your knees, you listened to the hustle and bustle of the bar in back of you. Your aunt had run the bell and someone just got thrown overboard. You watched as the same aviator from before was one of the few that carried the old-timer out.

You still couldn’t place him but decided to let it go. You could ask Penny about it later.

A familiar tune of piano keys causes your spine to straighten. Nausea twisted itself in your stomach as goosebumps peppered your skin. You stood up, listening for his voice as he started singing, still incapable to believe it unless you see him.

You peeked, treading cautiously towards the window.

And there he was.

Sitting at the piano bench, singing the same song Carole hummed in the kitchen when she babysat you. His fingers danced on the keys as he commanded the room, bobbing his head as he sang. He had a fuller build, aviators sloped on his nose with an open Hawaiian shirt. The same one Carole said he could wear once he was old enough for it to fit him.

Dread spread through your limbs as time stalled. Penny would understand if you left now. You’d just have to run in and grab your things. You’d be gone before he noticed you.

The hesitation only worsened when he raised his eyes and that confidence was taken over by surprise. It was only a second but it was enough to jerk you into action. Descending into the crowd, you concealed yourself between bodies as you escaped towards the back to grab your keys.

The song wasn’t quite finished yet. He kept up his performance and you didn’t have it in you to match him today. “Penny—”

“Go. I know now isn’t the time.” You embraced her tightly, swearing to drop by tomorrow and complete your shift, but right now you needed to go, and having a face-off with the man who broke your heart isn’t what you needed. Maybe later, but not now, it would be too much.

The air hit your flushed cheeks, catching your breath from the sudden intrusion. You glanced up one more time before trekking to your car, watching him bask in the ambiance of the crowd cheering him on, arms spread out to take in the energy. It didn’t last long before his gaze set itself on you, making his way through the crowd with a smile. Anyone would miss it, but you weren’t anyone. His face was tight and he walked stiffer than his usual gait.

You hadn’t seen Bradley Bradshaw since you were 26, and before that, since you were 18. You’d been raised together since you could remember.

It was now or never, you could spilt at the last moment and very evidently run or you could hesitate and let him catch up to you.

Whatever options you had evaporated as the door opened. It moved slowly, and you held your breath.

In that moment you felt foolish, why did you need to hide? He was the one that left you that morning. He was the one that didn’t answer your phone calls and refused to reach out. Outrage simmered in your throat as you felt it flush in your ears. Why hide when you could bury the hatchet here and let him have it?

He slowed as he got nearer as if he could never reach you no matter how far or fast he walked. He dangled his aviators on the neck of his tank, gathering himself. His gaze followed you up and down, leaving a burn wherever you felt his stare.

“Bradley ‘The Brave’ Bradshaw.” You spat.

He winced narrowly at your tone. Wonder steeling his bones as he was rendered speechless.

“How was the last…what? Decade? It’s been almost a decade since I’ve seen you. Phew time just flies. Doesn’t it?” You folded your arms over your chest, standing at attention as he just stared.

He didn't talk for a while. Breathing as he thought, chewing his bottom lip, just like he always did when he was unsure what to say.

“Good talk.” You headed for your car before he grasped your wrist, a gentle tug but one loaded with desperation. “I…” He paused again.

"Fuck, I don't know what to say." He rubbed his forehead, taking a swig of his beer. "I mean, I didn't have time to prepare a script and all." He motioned around, catching his failed attempt at a laugh.

"I'm sorry." He blurted. You both stood dumbfounded, just in surprise at each other's company. "I should've written, or texted, or emailed. I shouldn't have…." He trailed off as if shame carried his voice away.

“Oh wow. He thinks too. Isn't that convenient?” Your biting remark was followed by a snort, “Apology not accepted. It was shitty of you to leave me like that, knowing what was going on and deciding I wasn’t worth even a goodbye. You didn’t even say goodbye Bradley.”

Tears lined your eyes as bitterness warmed you, “I thought I wouldn’t be so mad at you after all these years. Believed that if I ran right now I could put it behind me but no…the years we spent together meant nothing when you left like that.” Your voice hardened with your resolve.

His grasp slackened on your wrist, “Then why did you come back? Thought you would’ve had the wedding by now.” He cocked his head to the side, aggravating you in the process.

“No.” You spit the words out, “Called the engagement off when he said my mother’s illness wasn’t worth the trouble.” Bradley stood dumbstruck, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. It wasn’t often Bradley lost his composure, he had to be able to keep his head on tight if he was flying a jet. In this moment, he felt ill. He didn’t even know.

“She’s…She’s sick?”

You puffed out air, understanding that while you may seething, Bradley still cared for your mother. She took him in when Carole passed and Pete left him with nothing but a dim future. As much as you hated him, you understood that hearing about your mother's illness hurt. He loved her like family and he didn’t have much of that left.

“Bye Bradley.” You shook him off as he trailed after you, this time a bit brisk.

“What do you mean she's sick? Is it a cold, is it the flu?” Panic rested in his eyes as he scrutinized at you. Scanning your face for answers.

Your eyes bore into the asphalt. “It’s stage four Bradley.” You said feebly, the topic weighing you down as if sandbags had been placed on your shoulders, “The doctor said there might be a chance but we don’t know yet.”

He stood rigid, processing this information as grief seized his throat. Squeezing tight until he could barely speak. “I-I didn’t know or else I would’ve…”

“Would’ve what? Finally, called? You cut me off and I made do with it, but my mother? She loved you like one of her own and you just left.”

He rubbed his face. Palms shielding his eyes as he took a few breaths in, “At the time, I couldn’t have stayed. You may not understand why but I couldn’t stay.”

“Or you just didn’t want to.” His eyes shot up towards you, “You know that isn’t why I left. You know damn well.”

“No, I don’t. I woke up the next morning with nothing but your old pair of aviators and some dog tags. The bed was cold and I was alone.” You both had a stare-off, clearly oblivious of what the other was thinking.

You just puffed and watch as Bradley stood there, in all his aviator glory, allowing the anger that filled your body to tide you in. Electricity pooled into your palms and you tried not to slap him, all you could process was that anger, just anger anger anger. It was all you had that wasn’t grief.

Whether he was here or not, it didn't matter. You were too cross to articulate any of it. Years of bottled emotions popping open before you could process them. Stillness suspended itself in the air again, gripping both of you by the neck.

“I need to go.” You said firmly, “I just… I can't handle you right now. Not now.”

Slipping into your car, you give him one last look. He was impassive, closing himself off so he didn’t have to process it.

It wasn’t your problem anyway, you just needed to get home.

[onwednesdayswewrite]

all signs point to you chapter 1

Summary: All Wednesday wanted to do was go to the library to get a book, is that such a hard ask? She sure didn’t plan on falling in love. 

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x deaf!Reader

Warnings: threats of bodily harm from Wednesday 

Word Count: 1.8k

Hey y’all! I’m not actual deaf or HOH but I've done a lot research and spoken to my partner’s best friend but may not gotten everything right so please let me know! 

all signs point to you masterlist

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When Wednesday Addams stepped into the dusty Jericho Public Library that Saturday morning, she had one thing on her mind: Helter Skelter: The True Stories of the Manson Murders By Vincent Bugliosi. Thunder rolled outside, and it seemed to ignite something within the young Addams girl.  As her ebony braids dripped water onto her uniform, she remembered Enid making a fuss about the coming storm on the way into town, but frankly, Wednesday thought it was turning into a beautiful day.

If it weren’t for the tell-tale squeak of her platform shoes against the linoleum floor, onlookers would have thought Wednesday was floating under her Nevermore skirt with how she seemed to glide as she moved. She felt their glares harden when they realized a Nevermore student had ventured into this part of town. Others would have faltered under the judgment of their gaze, however, Wednesday rolled her shoulders and stalked on. She wouldn’t let some insignificant normies ruin her perfect day with her perfect book. 

“Good morning,” the older librarian called out from behind the large oak desk. Her sickly sweet smile made bile rise in Wednesday’s throat, she couldn’t stand anyone that excited before she was caffeinated. Wednesday had already stopped herself from committing a crime once this morning, a second would be far too much. Part of her was thankful that she had sent Enid to the Weathervane to prevent blood from spilling over excessive headphone volume, although a quad over ice was a tempting thought.

Wednesday didn’t let the thought bother her for too long, all she had to do was get this book, and then she could get her quad. The library wasn’t a very large one, and if Wednesday were to comment on it, she might say that it had something to do with the intelligence level of the town.  Wednesday knew she couldn’t say much though for Nevermore had committed literary atrocity by not having the book themselves. Wednesday knew the Dewey decimal system like the back of Thing’s hand and it didn’t take her long to track it. 364.1523. The numbers seemed to shine out to her. True crime, perfect. 

For the Thrill of It: Leopold, Loeb, and the Murder That Shocked Chicago by Simon Baatz

The Burning of Bridget Cleary by Angela Bourke

An empty space. 

Outrage: The Five Reasons Why O.J. Simpson Got Away With Murder by Vincent Bugliosi

In Cold Blood by Truman Capote

“How curious,” Wednesday whispered to herself at the sight of the missing book, though she heard Thing shift around in her backpack, trying to be nosy. For a brief moment, Wednesday was almost impressed, maybe there was some hope that someone else in this town had good taste and was at least somewhat competent. However, it didn’t last long for the realization to set in and Wednesday’s blood turned cold. Heads would roll today. 

Wednesday Addams was a perpetual creature of habit, and the slight change had her reeling. This was NOT part of the plan. Wednesday’s eyes started darting around to see if maybe some imbecile had placed it in the wrong spot. 

Just when Wednesday felt the stone in her stomach getting heavier and heavier, her eyes caught something that piqued her interest. Helter Skelter’s bright red writing against the pitch-black background stuck out of the top of a blue and purple tie-dye backpack. A normie girl. Hardly a worthy adversary, this would be easy. 

By now, Thing had wiggled free from his prison. His freshly manicured nails (courtesy of his bff, Enid) tapped on Wednesday's shoulder to grab her attention, his fingers moving about randomly. “No, I don’t know what I’m going to do yet,” Wednesday barked at the hand on her shoulder, resisting every urge in her body to swat him off. The way Wednesday saw it she had two options, either confront you, or tuck her tail between her legs and return Nevermore without her book. The latter simply just wasn’t going to happen.

When Wednesday approached, you were mostly concealed by a huge stack of books up over your head at the edge of the desk. Your head ducked down, reading the book beneath your fingertips. 

The Stranger Beside Me by Ann Rule

Ted Bundy was another commendable choice. Wednesday couldn’t help but have some respect for you. She observed for a moment longer, hoping you would feel the black cloud looming over you, but you didn’t stir one bit. She made an attempt to clear her throat to get your attention, but still nothing. Were you really going to make her ask?

“Can I borrow your book?” Wednesday’s voice broke through the otherwise silent atmosphere of the library. Wednesday was half expecting you to turn and make a scene about Thing on her shoulder but instead, the only response she got was you flipping the page in your book. Clearly, you have read enough of your books to know what happens when you face the wrong person. Did you not know who she was? What she was capable of? 

Thing scurried down the length of her arm and hopped down onto the book on the top of the tall stack next to you. 

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes: And Other Lessons from the Crematory by Caitlin Doughty

His fingers pushed the book to the edge of the stack, and it tumbled down onto the ground, hitting with a loud bang. others in the library jumped and sent glares in Wednesday's direction, but all she could focus on was you. Wednesday felt her stomach harden again and her chest began to feel tight. You hadn’t even flinched.

Her jaw clenched as she snatched the fallen book off of the floor. If you weren’t even going to acknowledge her, then she was going to steal your book and that wasn’t the only thing she was going to do. You would pay for this. 

Wednesday threw herself down into the chair diagonal from you, her hands clenching and then splaying out. She needed to relax, or she would never be able to think clearly.

She wanted nothing more than to grab you by the hair and drag you into the bathroom to drown you in the toilet, but that seemed too easy.

A pool of piranhas was a viable option. Maybe this time she will succeed.

“Howdy R-woah Wednesday what’s wrong” Enid stopped dead in her tracks at the site of her roommate. Fingers gripping onto the table so hard they were turning blue and Thing defensively standing on her shoulder.

“Planning a homicide” Wednesday deadpanned, her eyes never leaving the sight of you still flipping through the pages of the book.

Enid paid no mind to Wednesday’s comment as this wasn’t unusual for her. Instead, she placed the plastic Weathervane to-go cup in front of Wednesday, her other arm, reaching across the table to wave up and down softly just in your peripheral vision. You’ve lifted your head and smiled at her, seemingly completely unaware of everything that just happened. 

Enid greeted you with a motion of her hands, and you seemed to respond, understanding. Wednesday must’ve let her confusion known to her roommate, and Wednesday watched as a realization crossed Enid's face about her previous comment. Enid’s pastel nails turned to claws as she clenched her fists. 

“Wednesday, Y/N is deaf” Enid scolded through gritted teeth. Wednesday had heard this tone of voice before and Enid only used it when Wednesday was truly in trouble. Wednesday felt what she only imagined to be shame run through her body as she watched your eyes track Enid’s lips trying to figure out what she had said. Wednesday could’ve sworn she heard a low growl come from Enid’s throat as she narrowed her eyes and shot Wednesday one last painful glare, and turned to continue her conversation with you. 

Despite Enid’s reprimanding, Wednesday still wanted nothing more than the book she came for. Wednesday again couldn’t help but commend you for your lack of reaction to Thing scampering down her arm and onto the table.  Instead, you smiled and waved. Thing’s phalanges moved about wildly in a way Wednesday thought communicated her need for the book. 

Your head cocked to the side and you chuckled. What had she done now? No matter how hard she tried to hide it, Wednesday felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment. She never liked this feeling and did her best to shake it off.

You held up one finger and told your backpack across the table. You pulled the small zipper bag out causing Helter Skelter to slip across the desk a little, just out of Wednesday's reach. From the small pouch, you pulled out two cochlear implants.

“What I think Wednesday was trying to ask is can she borrow your book?” Enid finally communicated once your processors and magnets were in place.

“Absolutely” a small broke through on your face, as your hands signed out of habit “ it’s nice to meet you Wednesday, I’m Y/N” your hand reached out for her, but she remained deadly still. Enid was prompt in delivering a sharp kick to Wednesday’s shin, and that was enough to kick her into action. 

Her hand reached out to yours and Wednesday felt a spark of electricity. Not one like when Uncle Fester pranked her, but this one was something different. This kind made her head feel foggy, and she felt something strange in her stomach, not hard as she felt before, but almost like something was moving and crawling around in there, and she couldn’t think straight. She almost missed you sliding the book to her.

“Have you read it before? It’s a really good read. Did you know after he died, Manson wanted his body displayed in the glass case, but his fiancé never followed through with his wishes?” Wednesday observed as your eyes seemed to come alive, and an excited smile found its way onto your face that almost made Wednesday forget to grab the book.  Wednesday made a mental note to remember that in the future, serial killers made you happy. 

Wednesday felt another feeling start to stir in the bottom of her stomach, this one different than the ones she had felt before. One she had only felt uttered between her parents. Wednesday waited with bated breath for the usual nausea to rise in her throat, but it never came. However, for one quick moment, Wednesday thought she felt her cold, dead heart give a soft beat in her chest.  

Suddenly the idea of a piranha-filled vat sounded appealing again. She would hang you upside down and let their sharp teeth nibble on your arms. Maybe then you would tell her why you made her feel that horrible feeling in the bottom of her stomach. Why does she feel so drawn to you. Why her mind felt cloudy when you smiled, and more importantly why she couldn’t wait to feel it again.

[ramirezmindset]

ғᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅ.

ʙʀᴀᴅʟᴇʏ ʙʀᴀᴅsʜᴀᴡ x ғᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ.

→ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: as the daughter of pete 'maverick' mitchell, there were certain expectations people had of you, all of which you were determined to defy. however, after a hellbent summer leave of love, loss and heartbreak, you discover you're more like your father than you would've ever imagined.

→ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: angst central, reader being a dick, rooster being a dick, mav being a dick, everyone being a dick, break-ups, seggsual innuendos, loss of relationships/persons, platonic male/female friendships, romantic male/female relationships, adult language ↳wc: 2974

FATED TO PRETEND: INTRO & MASTERLIST

Your phone rang on the desk opposite you for the third time. It was a cold day where you were stationed, freezing even, and you were fairly sure that even if you did want to answer that call, your phone would be stuck to the mahogany due to the sub-zero European temperature in your small office.

You already know what he'd say, you could already feel the words penetrating your ears. You didn't want to hear them, couldn't bring yourself to hear them. Maybe if you ignored the phone some more, he would give up and call the next best thing. The phone stopped ringing, and you were granted with a few moments silence. You leant back on the chair, folding your arms over your chest and releasing a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

The wind battered against the flexible glass of the window. You could just make out the faint outline of people on the airstrip, running around and laughing at each other. The pilots down there were fresh, spring-chickens who were so excited for what the future of this career holds. It was your job to keep their excitement palpable, not to tell them the truth, that in sixth months when dicking about is over, they would wish they never joined the Navy in the first place.

The phone rang again. Groaning, you braced your elbows on the desk and stared at the name on the screen.

Dad.

You bit the inside of your cheek, a nervous habit you got from your mother. You didn't even realise you had reached for the phone until it was against you ear and your father's voice filled the room.

"God, Y/N! I thought you were dead!" Pete Mitchell said that every time you answered his phone calls. It was routine, almost, you would ignore his first few calls before finally picking up, and he would panic and berate you and you would (insincerely) apologise before letting him say whatever it is he needs to say, and that would be it. He wouldn't call again for three months and then the cycle repeats itself, like a snake eating it's own tail.

"What is it?" You cut to the chase.

"Look, Y/N, you know what I'm gonna say. And I'd rather it be me say it than Admiral Simpson" You sigh down the phone, you could picture your fathers face in your head. Eyebrows furrowed, free hand on hip as he looks down at the ground and back up. Right now, he'd be glancing around the room, trying to make himself look busy to any suspecting on-lookers. "Don't make this hard for me"

"Do I have to?" You ask, biting the skin on your thumb. "Like, is there actually nobody else?"

"You know you have to. Don't pretend you're busy and hang up the phone so you can avoid the conversation, I've already called Ant and he said you were just sat in your office farting about with paperwork" You take a mental note to berate your best friend as soon as this call is over. "Y/N, this is your job. I know you'd rather hide away in some dark corner and teach some morons how to stop and start a plane, but you're better than that. You know it, I know it, Cyclone knows it, and the Navy knows it. That's why we need you here."

"Well, what's in it for me?"

"Bragging rights, I don't know. I don't even know why I'm here, dovey." You close your eyes and sigh at your fathers childhood nickname for you. Your relationship had always been strained, your mother doing everything in her power when you were a child to stop Pete from seeing you. She thought he was dangerous, irresponsible, which are both true, but that never stopped him from showing up at your front door demanding to see his daughter. You were always a daddy's girl, but his unreliability slowly ate away at whatever relationship the two of you shared, him preferring to give all the fatherly love he had in him to his late best friends son, Bradley, who, you had heard, couldn't really stand him either, especially in more recent years.

You felt bad for the guy, you really did, but he did it to himself.

"You don't have a choice here, babe, you either do whatever this is we have to do or you're permanently grounded. I'm on the same terms as you, you know how Cyclone feels about me. We're on the same team"

"I guess" You murmur just as a knock on the door comes. Ant pokes his head round, biting his lip nervously as you hold up a finger, a silent plea for him to give you a minute. "Fine, I'll do it. But if anyone asks, I did this of my own free will and my father did not have to call me begging. That's embarrassing for you"

Pete chuckled down the phone, bidding you a goodbye as you put the phone on your desk and rested your head in the palms of your hands.

"If it's any consolation, I've been called back too" Ant says, snapping you out of your trance. He's behind you now, massaging your shoulders. He's tense too, you can feel it in his movements. "Someone else has been called back as well, I bet Mav didn't mention that on the phone"

"He didn't need to" You reply, craning your neck to look up at him. Ant and you had met years ago when you were both stationed somewhere sunny, neither of you cared enough to remember where. You were both Top Gun graduates, and he was your new back seater after your last guy had a panic attack in the air and quit, much like a story your dad told you about someone he knew years ago.

The two of you regularly joked that you were twin flames, he was a brother from another mother, Sonic and Tails, Femme and Fatale. You could read each other like a book, and he was the first person to not have any expectations of you or your skills in the cockpit after realising who your father was.

Ant smiled lovingly down at you, leaning slightly down to wrap his forearms around you in a hug. You reached up to hold his wrist, leaning back slightly, welcoming the embrace.

"It'll be fine" He murmured, pressing a quick and friendly kiss to your temple before releasing his hold on you. "We're only there for three weeks, it'll be over before you know it, and we'll be back in this shithole teaching these men how to make fire"

You chuckled, nodding along slowly.

"I better pack a bag" You say, pushing yourself out of the chair. "When Top Gun calls, I better come a-running"

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The air is thick and the sun is hot, a sharp contrast to your last location. Ant walks slightly ahead of you, abandoning your duffel bags in the trunk of his car and pushing his sunglasses up his nose. The sound of the waves crashing nearby was somewhat calming in comparison to the pounding in your head. Despite the somewhat idyllic scenery, you would rather be anywhere but here.

Your jeans were sticking to your legs as you felt a bead of sweat roll down your back. You couldn't tell whether it was from nerves or from the blistering heat, either way, you'd rather be somewhere with air conditioning.

"Mav said he'd be in there" Ant says, pointing ahead of him at a beachside bar. The sign read 'The Hard Deck', with small LED planes flying around the slogan, lighting the sand around it blue. Of course your dad would be here, probably scoping out some poor fresh-meat naval aviators to scare the daylights out of.

"Stop talking to my dad" You roll your eyes and walk ahead towards the entrance of the bar as soon as you felt a cool breeze coming from the general vicinity.

"Hey! Maybe if you spoke to him more, I wouldn't have to be the middleman!" Ant hollers from behind you, picking up his pace to catch up with you.

Your dog tags smacked against your chest as you stepped up towards the bar, scouting the room out for any sign of your father. He was on the other side of the bar, tormenting the bartender most likely. Ant waved at him from behind you, gaining his attention as he nodded for the two of you to join him at the other side of the bar.

"Sonic" He nods at Ant. "Dovey" He opens his arms for a hug, a rare sight, and even though every neuron in your brain was screaming at you to leave him standing there with open arms like some sort of theme park attraction, you just couldn't resist a hug from your dad. In his arms, you felt like a little girl again, who's dad didn't hurt her, who's dad didn't run off, who's dad didn't introduce her to the first and only boy to ever break her heart.

"Hi, dad" You say, hugging him round the middle tightly as his hand rubbed your back.

"I got you two a drink" He replies, pulling away from the embrace and sliding two glasses towards you. Ant picks his up, chugging the concoction immediately and scuttling off down the bar, no doubt on purpose. He does this every time, makes some sort of excuse to leave you and your father alone together so he doesn't 1) witness the awkwardness of the interaction, and 2) be caught in the crossfire of the inevitable argument the two of you end up having.

"We don't have to do this, dad" You say, guzzling your own drink before slamming it back down on the bar. Malt whiskey, at least he remembered your drink of choice. "We don't have to attempt to mend whatever this relationship is just because we're working together, because in three weeks I'm gonna be back in Bosnia or wherever it was I was booted off to, and we won't talk for months and it'll just start all over again"

"I'm glad we're on track" He smiled at you, resting a hand on your shoulder, thumping it in a friendly manor. "I'll see you tomorrow, kid" And with that, your father was walking down the bar towards the bartender as you turned around to find Ant at the pool table, with some more aviators in their khaki's.

He nods his head for you to join, but you shake your head and turn back around, leaning your elbows on the bar, losing yourself in your thoughts.

The last time you were at Top Gun, this bar had been less than pretty. It was grotty, sticky floors and all. The jukebox would play the same fragmented verse of some random 80s ballad on repeat, and the place always had an almost fusty smell from years of beer and other spirits being spilt on the floor and bar. The bartender's were just as unrecognisable, and, looking over at your father, you wouldn't be surprised if he had some sort of history with the woman leaning over to ring the bell that sat happily above you.

You chuckled to yourself as a couple men in khaki's hauled your dad out and onto the sand, he probably deserved it. Just as you were about to join Ant, the bartender turned to you.

"Y/N, right?" She smiled at you. You blinked at her and nodded, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. "I'm Penny, Pete and I are old friends" She pushed another glass of malt whiskey towards you.

"It's on the house" She continued. "He never stops talking about you" Her eyebrows furrowed, as if waiting for your reaction, but all you did was lift the glass to your lips and raise an eyebrow back.

"Surprising" You reply, putting the glass down. "I never talk about him"

"He said you'd say something like that" You both chuckled. Penny had a comforting aura about her, something motherly and warm. You wondered what someone like her saw in someone like your father. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you're dad is a good guy deep down. Took me a while to believe it too. Just- I know you're gonna be working together for the next few weeks, so try not to let the fact that he's sometimes a dick get in the way of whatever it is that you need to do. From what I've heard, you're a fantastic pilot, Mav has some competition"

You smile at her, grateful for her words of wisdom, but just as you open your mouth to reply, the door to the bar swings open and the sounds of cheers from the aviators behind you fill the room.

Suddenly, Ant is behind you, resting his hands either side of you on the bar so you're back is flush with his chest, creating a human shield of some sorts.

"OK, don't look" He says, staring dead ahead. "But Bradley just walked in" Your eyes went wide as Penny pursed her lips and walked off to the other patrons, leaving you pushed up against the bar nursing a drink. "He has a-" Ant cuts himself off, furrowing his eyebrows. "He has a pornstache?"

"What?" You reply, ducking under his arm to escape his embrace before he could stop you.

Immediately, your eyes were attached to the tallest man in the bar, you wouldn't have missed him even if you were blindfolded. He was more muscular than the last time you saw him, and his hair was slightly golden, like it always was when he spent too much time in the sun, telling you he had been here for a while. Those stupid aviator glasses were still plastered to his face, like they had been for the last decade, and he was still sporting Hawaiian shirts like they were going out of fashion. His clothes hugged him deliciously, and you're suddenly reminded of all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place.

Ant was right, he had grown a pornstache, and you hated to admit it, but you don't think you had ever seen him look so good. It had been five years since you saw him last, five years since your relationship had ended. Your father had introduced you two at some Navy event just after you had graduated from Top Gun. You knew who he was, of course, you had seen photos of him hung around your dad's apartment, you were fairly sure Pete had more pictures of him than he did you.

He smiled at you, with that stupid fucking smile, and immediately you were a goner. He introduced himself, offering you a glass of champagne and a seat at the table next to him, and for four months after that you were inseparable. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, and he looked at you like he had the whole world in the palm of his hand. He was the first, and only man, you had loved fully, with every little bit of your heart and soul, so much so that he was the first face to appear in your head when you woke up, and the last face you pictured before you fell asleep.

You hadn't seen him since he broke your heart half a decade ago, leaving you a shell of yourself for no apparent reason other than the fact that he 'couldn't make it work.' To this day, you don't know what 'it' is, what 'it' he was referring to, you can only imagine he was talking about long distance, your jobs constantly forcing you to be apart, but the years of maturing and growth made you see the bigger picture. He just didn't want you anymore. He had had his fun, he had dicked about with Pete Mitchell's daughter, became a naval celebrity, and then fucked off when the novelty of you had worn off.

"Earth to Y/N!" Ant bellowed, waving his hand in your face. You were snapped out of your trance. "I said do you wanna leave?"

You shook your head, nervously fiddling with the dog tags around your neck. "No, it's ok. Just- we'll avoid him" Ant nodded, passing you the drink you had abandoned haphazardly on the bar. You drank the rest of its contents, watching Bradley like a hawk.

Ant scoffed next to you, he knew what you meant by 'avoiding' him, you would sit at the bar, keeping your distance but your eyes locked on him until he noticed you. And when he would notice you, you would crap yourself and leave and then cry yourself to sleep as Ant would nurse you when you dry heaved from sobbing. He had been here one too many times before, Bradley's name has to merely come up in conversation for you to spiral.

"Sonic, I'm serious" You say, turning your back to Bradley and leaning on the bar once again. "Me and you are gonna have fun, and then we're gonna go back to the apartment and order a pizza and then go to bed. I'm not letting some man get me down-"

You're cut off by the sound of the piano behind you, and you don't even need to turn around to know that it's Bradley's fingers expertly playing the keys, and you don't even need to turn around to know that your dad is probably pressed up against the window paying more attention to the guy at the piano than his daughter who's drinking her own sorrows at the bar.

Ant sighed. "If you say so."

[eternalsams]

Country Boy ⇴ J.Seresin

pairing: jake seresin x fem!reader

warnings: tiny innuendos at the end. that’s it.

summary: Jake goes back home to his family for a few weeks and has quite a hard time convincing some girl he’s a pure Texas boy.

words count: 1 124

notes: this one shot was DIRECTLY inspired by this gif from Everybody Wants Some, i freakin’ love this film !

Home sweet home ! Jake came back to his home city when Admiral Simpson allowed the whole Dagger Squad some vacation after the mission. Jake really needed that. He needed to see his family. His parents, his sisters, the kids. Everyone. As soon as he was dismissed from the Admiral’s office, he booked a flight back to Austin and sent a text to his mom, telling her he was coming home the next day. He slept during the whole flight, completely exhausted by the training and then the mission. The moment he stepped out of the airport, two little blond heads jumped on him. He stumbled back and chuckled, taking his nephew and his niece in his arms and resting them on his hips. He greeted his mom and sister before taking a seat in the backseat on his mom’s car, between the two kids.

He spent the first day resting at his parents’ place, either laying on the couch watching a Disney movie with the kids or sitting in the kitchen and talking with his parents. The next day, the whole Seresin family went to the park and when the sun eventually started to disappear, Jake decided he wanted to go out. He wanted to see if the bar in which he used to go as a student was as great as he remembered. He pulled his best stetson hat out of his closet and took his jacket before kissing his mom’s cheek and leaving for town. When he parked his truck, he could hear the catchy music and hear some boots hitting the wooden floor. He felt home.

He tipped his hat back on his head and walked in the bar. It was crowded but he’s seen way worse in California. He sat down on a stool at the bar and waited until a waiter came and asked him what he wanted to drink. Jake only ordered whiskey and when he got his glass, he turned on his stool to rest his back against the counter. He looked around him and felt someone sit down next to him. He quickly glanced at the stranger and had to do a double take when he noticed the beautiful woman looking at him. You.

“Hi!” You smiled and he chuckled. Texas girls, now he really felt home. He turned to face you and smiled. “Hi to yourself. How can I help you?” He licked his lips and tasted the alcohol remaining on them. “My friends back there didn’t think I could come and talk to you, so here I am. How’s your night going so far?” You cocked your head to the side and pulled your stool closer to Jake’s. “It’s going really good, but even more now that you’re here with me.” Sweet talker. You thought, but you didn’t mind. You could feel chills running up your back as he grinned at you and you introduced yourself. He repeated your name like a prayer and shook your waiting hand. “I’m Jake, nice to meet you.”

“So, Jake, where are you from tanned like that?” You didn’t try and hide the fact that you were checking him out. He liked the attention you gave him, reminded him of the girls at the Hard Deck back in San Diego. “The tan is from California. But the guy is from our sweet Texas actually.” He gave you his Hangman signature grin and swallowed up what was left in his glass. You slightly chuckled before bursting into laughter. Jake’s smile dropped and he frowned, thinking about what in what he said could have been funny. But you enlightened him right away. “You? From Texas? No way.” You pretended wiping tears under your eye and looked up at him. “Well, I am. I swear I am, you can’t find anyone else more Texan that I am.”

“I don’t believe you. You’re the typical California boy. Tall, blonde, green eyes, arms that could do wonders throwing foot balls. But you cannot be from Texas.” You raised your eyebrows with a sly smirk and that’s when Jake snorted. “First, thank you for the compliments. Second, how can I prove you that I’m from here?” He leaned in to get closer to you and he quickly glanced at your lips when you sank your teeth in your lower lip. “Get on the bull.” You grinned, getting even closer to him. “What?” He slightly backed off. “Get on the bull and hold on for a minute. One single minute and I’ll believe you.” You nodded towards the mechanical bull a little further. Jake lowered his head and sighed in defeat. It’s been so long he hasn’t ride. But he really wanted to impress you and he knew it was the first step to get your number. When you saw him lower his head, you thought you finally cracked him. Poor California boy. But your grin faded when he stood up and walked to the bull, asking you to follow him with a simple finger move. You didn’t hesitate and grabbed your drink before following him through the crowd. You saw him say something into a guy’s ear and and went to jump onto the bull’s back.

He looked like he’s been doing that his entire life. But you still didn’t believe him. Let’s be clear, he needed to hold onto the bull for a whole minute. He placed his hand correctly and hold onto his hat before nodding to the man. And here we go! 

2 minutes later

Speechless. You were absolutely speechless. Not only Jake held on for more than a minute but he did it the hottest way you’ve seen anyone do it. The way his hips rolled and hit every bang of the bull. You could see the way his hand gripped the handle and his veiny arm keeping him from falling. And then he decided to grab his hat off his head and throw it to you. You almost missed it by how mesmerized you were by his body but quickly caught it and held onto it for dear life. You watched him walking to you and he reached out to you. You weren’t sure what to do so you only put your hand in his. He looked surprised but only chuckled before kissing your knuckles. “I wanted my hat back but your hand is fine too.” He rubbed the back of your hand.

You looked down at the beige stetson you had in hand and looked back up at him. Then back down at the hat and put it on your head, earning you a grin from the Californian Texan. “Okay, take me home, cowboy.” You kept his hand in yours and made your way out of there.

[jasminedragonart]

Thoughts about the impact jK Rowling has had on the female character:

I think it's fair to say that we have a long way to go in media and literature to achieve a steady basis of good female characters. That's not to say there's none, but the bad does outweigh the good. The thing is, it is getting better. These days when we look at media we can find a lot of well written female characters. Tina, Louise and Linda Belcher. Star Butterfly and Mabel Pines. Nadja of Antipaxos. These are just a few characters I thoroughly enjoy watching on screen and the reason for this is because they're relatable to me. I sometimes sing to myself like Linda, I've found myself writing fan fiction like Tina. I've had that moment like Louise where I stood there as a child and wondered why others around me don't like the things I do. I'm flawed like Mabel and I like cute things like Star.

All of these women above are women. They're feminine. They allow themselves to embrace everything that makes them who they are and yes there are struggles but they're not standing there telling me they're modernising what it means to be a woman. They're women and I like them.

Characters like these have been hard won. We've legitimately struggled to get them here and every year it's getting harder and harder to keep women like these on screen. The reason behind this, I kind of blame a lot on the impact Harry Potter had not just on media but what it means to be a woman.

Has anyone else heard the phrase 'Be a hermione in a world full of princesses?' Does anyone see how toxic this is? Does anyone else not see the problem JK has created by her series getting popular? A problem she hasn't and doesn't want to address because she doesn't realise the problems in her own books.

Hermione was a breakthrough character in children's media. By that, I mean that people finally saw the bookish girl as holding value in a narrative beyond what she had been before (maybe annoying. Maybe just a side character. Never a main character or love interest.- except no, that's wrong. we had lisa Simpson way before Hermione...

Lisa is more nuanced though. I enjoy Lisa because she's very self aware and does try and improve herself even if she's doomed to love in a sitcom she can't escape her role from.

Back to Hermione. Hermione was new to children at least. She showed kids there was value in reading and learning. But, in all honesty, how much is Hermione's popularity down to Emma Watson's portrayal of her and how much is it down to the character of Hermione.

Movie Hermione is very watered down. In fact she's given a lot of Ron's lines which makes her more impactful and Ron further into the shadow of the comedic best friend. Emma Watson is very pretty too. Even as a child she looked a lot like how a lot of prettier girls in my class looked. Her hair was the only thing that made her an outcast. But even then, this was the early 2,000s. Do you know how many kids my age came to school with Hermione's hair? They brushed those curls out until they were dead. No one knew about the curly girl method in primary. The point is, Hermione is different on screen than in the books. she's pretty, she's emotional, shes more nuanced than she is in the books and I applaud the movies for doing this to Hermione because it did make her more likeable.

That's the thing though. More likeable. In the books Hermione is not a likeable character to a lot of people. She would have been the know it all in class that reminded the teacher they had homework. Yes, she did some good things, she spoke up about the house elves, she saved Harry's life a few times but her character, in my opinion, got worse as the books went on. She remained very consistent. there wasn't a lot of change to her character. She didn't seem to grow because she didn't have to.

Worse. she was elevated.

I don't know if anyone else caught the horrific misogyny in these books but I did and it infuriates me.

JK makes a point of elevating Hermione. Hermione is always right. Hermione will always win. Hermione is the standard we should hold other females to, and I know for a fact it's because her popularity increased as the movies were brought out.

If we look at the other female characters in comparison to Hermione I honestly hate it. Mainly because Hermione is elevated to a point where she isnt feminine. If you show any femininity in those books you're villainised.

Don't believe me?

What colour does Umbridge wear? Pink. What is her favourite animal? A cat. She likes sweet things and lace. Shes everything we've come to know about women but she's twisted inside so we can't like these things. we turn against these things because Hermione doesn't wear pink. she wears blue like at the yule ball. she's almost masculine in her appearance so we don't associate her with natural beauty.

Lavender. Girly girl. Just wants a boyfriend because all girls at that age are boy crazy. She's a very supportive girl. Its turned to clinginess. Something hermione is not. In fact she keeps ron at such a distance I didn't even know they would end up together until the last book. the movies made it more obvious, they did their best with it. But the books didn't.

Cho Chang. Cries a lot. Emotional. Doesn't matter that she's grieving and was forced to give up the location due to a potion. No, she's villainised so Ginny can have a sudden romance with harry that again came out of nowhere.

Luna escapes this thankfully. Only because she's too weird for us to consider her having romantic notions. she doesn't have to be put down or twisted to make way for someone else.

Jk made a whole generation of girls hate anything girly. They turned away from pink. They would rather pick up a book than do their make up. Their interest in Hermione and rejecting femininity is the reason we have so many bad female heroines these days.

My question to jk is why? Why couldn't a girl like make up and reading? Why is it one or the other? Why must we reject the pleasures of being dainty and liking cute and fun things in order to be a good woman? Why couldn't we have a character like Louise? Louise is very much a tom boy. But you know what? Louise wears a dress and bunny ears, pink bunny ears, every day of her life because the writers of that show understood a female character. Louise loves smashing mirrors. She also loves Boo Boo. She doesn't like pixies but she still likes wearing a dress.

For years the girly girls of this world had to put up with characters like Hermione being paraded in front of them and told that they themselves were being bad women because they liked pink. Because they liked cats and boys. It wasn't right. And we really need to ask the question on why JK thought to put women down like this in her books when she herself is- apparently- such a protector on what it means to be a woman.

I spy some internal misogyny. I spy a lot of things and theres probably more i could say but it's late, I'm tired and my phone keeps smashing my words together so I need to stop typing.

This is just my opinion. You don't have to agree. This is just the experience I've had growing up in a world where these books shaped a lot of my childhood. I probably would have explored dresses and brighter colours faster if I wasn't told by a fictional character and the grip she had on me and my femininity that pink is bad. That being a girl is bad.

[sunlightmurdock]

Ceasefire | 0.6 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley Bradshaw is in San Diego, summoned to Top Gun for the first time. Commander “Hyde” Simpson is his flight instructor, and she doesn’t have time for schoolboy crushes.

Warnings: ex-husband!beausimpson, divorce, age gap (rooster is somewhere between 26-28, reader is 38), power imbalance between instructor and student aviator, swearing, angst. Smut, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected pinv

…

“Hey, is that Hyde?”

Bradley’s head shoots up. His eyes widen as he steps around Jake to get a better look.

“Oh wow - I’ve never seen her out of uniform before.” Coyote comments. It’s Friday afternoon, on a rare occasion that they all have the day off of work. All three of them are standing in the beer aisle, bickering over what to get for their barbecue tomorrow.

Rooster’s lips quirk slightly. You’re standing at the far end of the aisle, wearing a tank top and a pair of denim shorts. They fit well and the tank sits just right. He has to remind himself to close his mouth.

He stands there, a case of beer tucked under his arm, just staring for a moment.

He’s taking you out later.

“She’s hot.”

Rooster’s head turns to look at Jake. He hides the smirk from his face as he looks back to you. You are hot. And he’s the one that gets to take you out.

“I’m gonna say hi.”

That wipes the smirk off of his face all together. His brows furrow as Jake moves forwards. He and Coyote share a look, then follow after Jake.

“Jake, wait.” Coyote whispers, half-scared that whatever Jake says now is going to get them into trouble on Monday. That’s not what Rooster’s worried about at all.

“Commander Simpson!” Jake grins.

Your head turns, eyes widening slightly as you notice the three of them barrelling towards you. It’s clear that Rooster and Coyote are trying to slow their friend down, and that he isn’t having it.

“Boys.” You reply calmly, giving them a small nod.

Rooster squints at you. He’s a man — and he has shown you how much of a man he is a good few times now. Jake and Javy are a different story.

They’re all dressed for the beach, which makes sense since the store isn’t far from it. Three different pairs of board shorts, navy, black and a forest green colour. Jake’s wearing a tank top, Bradley’s in a fitted tee and Javy’s wearing a loose fitting graphic shirt.

As much as you hate to admit it, the sight of Rooster in a backwards cap and board shorts is growing on you. You don’t let yourself look him over too much, acutely aware of the fact they’re all watching.

Your lips quirk up softly at the way they’re all staring at you.

“Mommy!”

Three heads turn at once, and all three of their eyes widen as your little girl runs over and wraps herself around your waist. She looks up at them, and then at you, then smiles.

“Hi.” Dimpled cheeks and a cheesy grin, she looks up at them sweetly.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Jake and Javy nod together. Rooster stares at her, and then looks back at you. You scrunch your brows slightly.

This feels weird. It’s one thing knowing that you have children, it’s another thing for her to be standing in front of him, beaming. You’ve made it clear that you don’t want him to meet your kids yet, and he’s just doing his best not to be weird.

It’s true, you didn’t want him to meet your children, especially not after this week’s argument with Beau, but this isn’t so bad. In fact, this is probably the best way that it could have happened.

“Hi.” Rooster says finally.

“Are you friends with my Mommy?” Taylor asks, cocking her head at the three of them inquisitively. She’s adorable. Rooster can see so much of you in her that Beau’s barely there at all. Her hair is in pigtails and she’s got a pair of blue corduroy shorts overalls on.

“They work with me, sweetie.” You explain, brushing a hand over her hair. You’re trying not to spend too much time looking at Rooster, but the way he keeps looking between you and her — almost like he’s counting the similarities, makes you want to laugh.

“Boys, this is my daughter, Taylor.”

“I’m five.” She declares proudly, Rooster smiles. “Can you fly as good as my Mom does?”

“No.” You answer for them, giving a soft chuckle. Jake and Javy grin, knowing that they give you the most shit in exercises. They’re constantly trying to better you and have yet to manage it.

Taylor’s eyes turn towards the quiet one. She narrows her eyes at him. You watch him silently panic, trying not to laugh. A thousand thoughts fly through his head at once about what he could have done to make her not like him.

“Are you shy?” She asks him, putting her hands on her hips. Jake laughs as he cranes his neck to get a better look at Rooster’s face.

He gives a quick shake of his head. “No.”

The second he says it, he regrets it. The first time your daughter talks directly to him and that’s all that he manages to say. Idiot. He scolds himself.

She squints dubiously. He seems pretty shy to her. Eventually, she shrugs. “I like your mustache.”

Rooster smiles at her. He gives a small nod. “I like your sneakers.”

“Thanks. They light up.” She explains, stomping her tiny foot on the linoleum and demonstrating the pink and purple flashing light show that comes afterwards.

His heart melts. He looks at you, then back to her and laughs.

Watching him curiously, you wonder what’s going through his head right now. He should be running for the hills, right?

“Mom, can I get this?”

Just when Rooster’s relaxing into speaking to your daughter, he’s thrown off by your son’s appearance. Dylan isn’t as young as Taylor, he’ll be harder to win over. Rooster has been worried about meeting him. He remembers being eleven and hating his mother’s boyfriends.

Dylan holds up a pack of Pepsi cans. You nod and he adds it to the cart.

“This is my son, Dylan.” You explain, putting your hand on his shoulder. “Dylan, these are a couple of my students. Jake, Bradley, Javy.”

Bradley’s more than just your student, though.

Still, the three of them smile politely and greet your son. Dylan nods back at them and pushes his hands into the pockets of his shorts. He’s skinny and tall, his hair grown out and curly but not as curly as his sister’s.

“It was great to see you, Hyde.” Javy decides. You nod at them as he elbows his friends to move along.

“Bye!” Taylor lifts her hand and waves. Bradley smiles and waves at her as he lets Javy guide them away.

After paying, Dylan pushes the cart back to the car whilst you’re deep in conversation with Taylor about her friend Maya and how Maya fell over at school yesterday.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots your three students standing around a blue truck and dropping their groceries into the backseat of it. The broad, blonde one pulls himself up and slides into the passenger seat whilst the one with the mustache takes the driver’s seat. Their friend complains about having to be in the back.

Dylan stares at the one in the driver’s seat. So, it’s his car. It’s the same car that was in the driveway last weekend.

“Hey!”

Dylan jumps, eyes going wide as you grab the end of the cart in time to stop it from slamming into the side of your car. You frown at him and follow his gaze, finding what he had been looking at. Bradley’s car.

“Watch where you’re going, honey.” You say calmly, forcing a small smile as you take the cart from him. He squints at you and turns his head again in time to see the three of them reverse out of the space.

Dylan has been outwitting adults since he started school, but never you. He has never outsmarted you before. But he has, now. He knows who you’re dating. And it’s one of your students.

He silently slides into the passenger seat whilst you check that Taylor’s buckled into her booster seat. She’s old enough to do it herself but she likes to play a fun game where she’ll tell you it’s buckled and then you’ll check the rear view mirror and she’s on the other side of the backseat. It’s not so fun for you.

You drop them off with your mother as planned, ready for Beau to collect them when he finishes work later this evening and then drive home to start getting ready.

All week, you’ve been considering if this is a bad idea. It’s one thing to be hooking up with him in private, it’s another to be out in public flaunting your relationship — if that’s what this is — with him.

Still, even with all that doubt, you find yourself putting more effort into the way you look for your date than you had expected to.

It’s almost therapeutic, standing in your bathroom and leaning over the counter while you do your make up and fix your hair. You leave your hair down. You’ve got to wear it up a lot for work, and you know he likes seeing you with it down.

You aren’t sure exactly where he’s taking you, but you know that it’s dinner. You keep your make-up simple-ish, deciding to save any bolder looks for somewhere you know would be appropriate.

It takes you a while to decide what to wear. Admittedly, you do get a little distracted listening to music from your late teens, but you come to a decision eventually.

A dress you haven’t worn yet. You had bought it to wear to a casual beach wedding last year, but Beau had talked you out of wearing it. Said that it wasn’t mature enough, just wasn’t appropriate.

Standing in front of your mirror, you evaluate it. It can be worn on the shoulder or off, but your boobs look fantastic when it’s a little off the shoulder. It was one of those beach weddings where the bride had wanted everyone to be in white. It’s still not too white, covered in small flowers.

Other than lingerie, it’ll probably be the most feminine thing he has seen you in. You hope that it’s okay for wherever he’s taking you.

Bradley shows up a couple of minutes early. You smile as you grab your bag and head for the door. He knows that you don’t tolerate tardiness.

You pull open the door and he takes a step back to look you up and down. He’s wearing jeans and an open blue button up with a white t-shirt under it. As he looks you over, you take a second to do the same.

One of the things you had fallen for about Beau was that he was so classically beautiful. Timeless, truly. Bradley’s the same but in such a different way — more carefree with it, handsome in such a free way.

“You look incredible.” Rooster tells you, reaching out and taking your hand in his. He lifts it to his lips and kisses your knuckle softly, “You ready?”

“Mhm, so where are we headed?” You ask, turning and locking the front door behind you, then slipping your keys into your bag. He squeezes your hand as he guides you down the steps. It’s his first time seeing you in heels.

“Somewhere special.” He replies, opening the side door to the bronco for you. You smile, chuckling softly as you slip into the seat. He walks around to his side and gets in, wetting his lips with his tongue.

He’s nervous, you can tell just by looking at him.

“Hey, Rooster?” You say softly. He turns his head and looks at you, raising his eyebrows. You lean forwards, giving him a near perfect view of your cleavage as you do, pressing your lips softly against his.

He leans into you, humming softly against your lips. You smell intoxicatingly good, his hand reaches out to rest on your thigh, squeezing softly at the skin under the dress.

You pull back just slightly, still leaned in close enough, and raise your brows back at him. That should have made him a little less nervous, you hope, “Is that better?”

He sits back in his seat and clears his throat, then swallows and adjusts his jeans, “Worse, actually.”

Your lips quirk as you glance down at his semi pressing into the denim on his thigh. His cheeks redden. His neck and ears follow, flushing red as he turns the engine on. You wonder how his blood can manage to do it all at once — rushing up to his face and down south all at the same time.

Bradley curses himself mentally. Five seconds into the date and he’s hard. Twenty-eight years old and he’s acting like a fucking teenager.

He shoots a glance at you, then looks behind him as he reverses out of the driveway. He can still smell that sweet perfume and see you in his peripheral. That problem isn’t going away any time soon.

In fact, it’s still there a couple of minutes into the drive.

Bradley picked a spot a while down the coast, not wanting you to be worried about running into someone you knew. The only issue now is that he has to drive an hour with a boner.

You reach over and rest your hand on his thigh. He shoots a quick look at you, then back at the road.

“D’you want a hand with that?” You offer gently, stroking the inseam of his jeans with your index finger. If he wasn’t on the highway, he’d close his eyes. He glances down at your painted nails, trailing along the inside of his thigh, up, up.

Bradley almost always drives with one hand on the wheel. Now, he drives with two. His fingers curl around the steering wheel, tighter.

“No.” He sounds uncertain, and he is. Really, he would like you to touch him right now. But he had an idea in his head about how this date would go, and it didn’t involve this.

“No?” You double check, quirking an eyebrow at him. He looks across at you and damn near groans. His eyes fall down to look at your fingers on his thigh.

He composes himself as much as he can, lacing his fingers through yours, bringing your hand up to his mouth and kissing his knuckles. “You can manage keeping your hands to yourself, right, honey?”

You stare at him.

His lips quirk upwards, knowing that he just caught you off guard. He shifts slightly in his seat and rests his hand against your thigh, fingers still woven between yours.

Given that he does seem to relax once he has leveled the playing field, you let it happen, squeezing his hand in yours.

The place Rooster picked is almost an hour up the coast, his pants problem subsides maybe twenty minutes in.

Whilst amused, you can’t pretend you aren’t a little bit happy that he popped a tent in his jeans over one kiss with you. It’s endearing, how wanted he makes you feel. Plus, being called honey was something that you weren’t expecting to enjoy so much.

Finally, he pulls up beside a quaint little restaurant on the beach front — it turns out you’re actually dressed perfectly appropriately for the occasion.

The date with Bradley isn’t all that different from what a date should be. But it’s different from any date that you’ve been on in a long time.

He opens the door, pulls your chair out for you, tells you how beautiful you look. He listens to your stories and asks you for more, nodding with interest at everything you’ll share.

Things hadn’t been like that with Beau in a long time.

He tells you about him. That he’s an only child, that his dad passed away when he was young, that he had always wanted to be a big brother. That he played baseball growing up because his Mom was too scared of him getting hurt to let him play football. Then a name slips his lips that has your eyes going wide.

“I’m sorry… your uncle is Pete Mitchell? — The Pete Mitchell? - Maverick?” You gasp. Bradley laughs, he’s used to getting that reaction from higher ups. He nods.

“Shit, if I’d known that I wouldn’t have agreed to teach you!” You joke, smiling as you sip on your beer. He grins across the table at you.

Bradley adores how natural this feels. Watching the sun beam on you, the sea breeze brush through your hair, he’s smitten.

“So, who’s a better pilot — me, or my Uncle Mav?”

You groan as you set the bottle back down on the table, playfully rolling your eyes. “You’re both very… different.”

“Come on, Hyde, that’s such a cop out.” He scoffs, sitting up and resting his forearms on the table, scrunching his brows disapprovingly.

“As someone who has personally seen your ‘Uncle Mav’ destroy three aircrafts, I guess I’d have to say you.” You reply. He beams at you from across the table.

You can tell he’s trying to be a gentleman. You don’t even get a chance to fight him for the cheque because he called ahead and put his card down before the two of you got here. He knows you well enough to know that you would try to.

He drives you home, and walks you to your door. You turn towards him, and wait for what comes next.

“Alright,” He clears his throat just slightly and takes a small step backwards, squeezing tenderly at your hip before letting his hand fall down to his side. “Goodnight.”

Immediately, your brows furrow. You stare at him as he takes another step back, starting down the steps and back towards his car.

“Uh… what are you doing?” You question.

Rooster makes a face like it’s obvious and stops moving, halfway down the steps, looking at you like he’s maybe about to smile.

“Being a gentleman.” He sounds less certain than he looks, reaching into his front pocket for his car keys. His eyes are focused on your face, watching as it first softens in realization and then turns to amusement.

“That’s cute,” You take a step forwards and he’s within arms reach again. You reach out and hook your finger into the leather of his belt, “Now cut it out.”

Those soft brown eyes flicker downwards once more. He watches, allowing you to pull him forwards by his belt until his hips are pressing against yours. You lift your chin and meet his gaze, watching his pink lips quirk upwards into a grin.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He murmurs playfully, hands finding your waist. You drape an arm around his broad shoulders, he leans down and kisses you. You find yourself against his lips as he walks you backwards until you’re pressed up against the front door.

He’s warm, as always, smiling into your skin, hands skimming your sides. There’s a giddy feeling that overtakes your common sense as one of his hands slides down and squeezes at your ass — it almost makes you forget that you’re a grown woman with neighbours to face after this encounter.

“Wait, wait.” You’re grinning at him as you fumble for your keys, turning around and searching for the correct one for the lock. Rooster tenderly brushes your hair back off of your shoulder, turning his face towards your neck, kissing warmly at your perfumed skin.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to focus on getting the lock open whilst his hands squeeze at your hips, his chest pressed to your back, his tongue on your pulse point. It almost makes you shiver.

Finally, you hear a click. You rush him inside with you, kicking the door shut and pulling him upstairs with you. Rooster’s hands find your hips quickly as he tugs you into him.

You pause, pulling back as his lips chase yours. His brows furrow slightly. You push the blue overshirt back until he has the sense to shrug it off of his shoulders. Next, your fingers push his t-shirt up, nails raking over his muscles.

He lifts his arms, lips quirking as you help him out of the shirt and drop it to the ground. You step forwards and press your lips to his chest, hands brushing tenderly over his sides. He groans softly as your mouth works warmly along his bare skin.

You lower yourself to your knees and look up at him as you pull his belt from the loop. Watching you, Rooster’s reminded of just how incredible you are. The same hands that touch him now do incredible things every day. He swallows, brushing his fingers over your hair as you unbuckle his belt.

You press your lips to his hips as you pop open the button on his jeans, pulling them down slowly and following the material with your mouth.

Curling your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, you nudge them down and kiss across the newly exposed skin and the trimmed hair above his cock. Rooster’s breath catches as you look up at him, pulling his jeans and boxers down enough to let his cock spring free.

“Thank you for tonight,” You tell him softly, guiding his jeans down his legs, kissing his thighs, nosing into his skin. He hums, curling his fingers into your hair. You kiss the base of his cock softly, looking up at him again. “I had fun.”

He smiles softly, letting out a quiet exhale then shivers as you trail your tongue along the underside of his erection.

Finally, reaching the tip, you wrap your lips around him.. Your trail your fingernails from his navel to his thigh, bobbing your mouth around his length. He shudders, letting out a deep moan. You adore how vocal he is. He seems to be growing more comfortable with you too, the vibrations of those deep sounds send shockwaves through you.

You pull back and push your lips tight over the tip of his cock, gathering a mixture of pre-cum and spit to spread down his length. He curls his fingers into your hair. Rooster whimpers as you flatten your tongue to take more of him into your mouth.

You take one of your hands and lace it over the top of his on the back of your head. Rooster watches as you press your hand into his, pushing your head forwards just a little. He gets the memo quickly, curling his fingers into your roots and pushing your head down further onto his length.

Your nose nudges his pelvis as you hold him at the back of your throat.

“Fuck, Hyde…” Rooster whimpers, rocking your mouth down onto him.

Your mouth continues to work around him until he’s spent, his body jolts from the sensitivity, grip tightening on your roots and causing you to moan around him. Bradley grunts, choking back a moan that leaves behind a soft whimper as he spills into your mouth.

His groans and whimpers spill out into the air. You swallow his load and kiss gently along his length, then look up at him. He breathes out hard, staring at you.

He has no idea how he got so lucky.

“You look so beautiful right now.” He murmurs, completely serious too. Eyes blinking back tears, lips parted, cheeks warm.

You scoff as you push yourself up, his arms wrapping around your middle. He turns you quickly, pulling your back to his chest and kissing your neck. He shakes his head softly, “I’m so serious.”

“You’re an idiot.” You tease back, feeling him smile into the crook of your neck as he drags your zipper down and pushes your dress off of your shoulders.

“Call me what you want if you keep on sucking my dick like that.” He replies, lips working feverishly along your neck between his words.

“Asshole.” You reply, smiling as you feel him grin into your skin. He pinches the clasp of your bra and pries it open, mouthing at your throat. He feels you pressing harder into him.

“That’s fine.” He replies, pressing his chest flush to your back, reaching around and cupping your tits in his hands. He kisses your pulse point, nosing against your earlobe then trailing that same path with his tongue.

You scoff, amused by this game. “Dick.”

He grabs your hips and pulls you hard against him, wrapping both his arms around you and nipping at your throat, grazing the same spot with his teeth and making you gasp at the sudden pressure.

“Not wrong.” He plays, hooking his thumbs into the sides of your underwear. You moan softly as he drops to his knees, kissing along the bare skin of your back as he tugs them down. “Now, grab the dresser.”

You barely have time to hear him tell you to do it before his hand presses into the middle of your back and bends you forwards. You catch the dresser, steadying yourself, eyes blowing wide open as he knocks your ankles apart and presses his mouth into your core.

“Oh, fuck.” You whimper, fingers curling around the wood as his mouth works eagerly between your folds.

“Keep going.” He tells you, barely stopping to get the words out before his tongue is lapping at your dripping pussy. Your chest heaves, brows furrowing as you try to remember what he’s asking you to do.

“Um… asshole.” You curse out, met with your reflection in the mirror above the dresser as he works between your legs. He snickers, shaking his head.

“You already said that one, honey.” He taunts, loving every moment of this.

“Know-it-all.” You bite back scaldingly, feeling him grin as he pulls back to nip at the backs of your thighs. Immediately, he buries his face between your legs again, bending you over further so that he can reach your clit, sucking at the bundle of nerves.

“That it?” He teases.

“Bitch.”

His teeth tug once at your clit, just enough to make you gasp, then lean into the pain-pleasure of it. He stands upright, catching the nape of your neck in his palm, guiding his cock between your legs as he kicks your ankles further apart.

It’s a fun game, letting you tease him, but he’d like to show you that you’re wrong on that one.

He meets your gaze through the mirror and finds you smirking, caught up in every aspect of him, breathless.

“Is that right?” He asks.

Your lips curve up even further, nodding at him through the mirror as you push back on him, feeling the tip of his cock dip into your folds. He likes seeing this side of you, and you like seeing this side of him. He leans forwards and tightens his grip on the nape of your neck, holding you nice and still for him. You cry out as he pushes himself swiftly into you.

Bradley pulls back again, almost out entirely, then sinks himself slowly back in. Your whimper vibrates against his chest as he presses against your back. Almost completely back again, and then completely flush against you.

“Fuck, Rooster.” You breathe out.

“That’s what I thought.” He corrects you, knowing that you’ve already learnt your lesson. You open your eyes, blinking, finding him smirking back at you through the reflection.

“Smart-ass.” You tease as his hands slide around your midsection, moving up and cupping at your tits as hs starts to fuck into you, hard. Your breath catches in your throat.

“I think you like it when I’m a smart ass.” Bradley comments, planting one hand over yours on the dresser for leverage as he picks up the pace. Your lips quirk up, because he’s right. You kind of do. You’re just as surprised about it as he is.

He moves you, bending you over a little more for a better angle, grabbing the back of your neck and holding you down against the wood of the dresser as he fucks into you. The wood slams repeatedly into the wall, your moans spilling out over the sounds.

His soft grunts into the crook of your neck driving you crazy, every breath is interrupted by a panting moan.

His fingers find your clit, working softly over it as his lips mouth over your earlobe. You reach behind you, grabbing the back of his neck, arching your back. Rooster grunts softly, tightening his arm around you as he kisses your jaw.

“I’m so close.” You manage, panting. Rooster groans at the admission, the chill of his breath making you shiver against him. He nods hurriedly as your walls constrict around his cock, nudging you forwards and covering your body with his.

Your eyes squeeze shut so tight that you’re seeing stars behind your eyelids, your head spinning as he fucks you through your orgasm. Bradley’s right behind you.

He tugs you closer, pushing himself as deep as he can and spilling inside of you. He rests his head against the crook of your neck, holding you tight against his chest for a moment.

It isn’t until you’re both just about catching your breaths again that you realize what just happened. You lift your head and stare at him through the mirror.

His eyes widen as he catches sight of your bedside table, mainly its top drawer, and realizes what the two of you had forgotten.

“Oh shit.”

…

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[popculturebuffet]

Next up for Cartoon Network era of shows, who is your favorite character from each of the early 2010s Check It renaissance era shows you've seen like: Regular Show, Sym Bionic Titan, Robotomy, The Problem Solverz, The Amazing World of Gumball, Secret Mountain Fort Awesome, Ben 10 Omniverse, Uncle Grandpa, Steven Universe, and Clarence?

Regular Show: CJ... besides being cute she's a fun character and was a good match for Mordecai.. then he fucking blew it in an incident i've never quite gotten over and will cover at some point if anyone's intrested, though till I do Sarcastic Chorus has covered mordecai fumbling the ball well. Overall the show itself is great, aside from season 6. The Romance Stuff can be drawn out when your not talking about Rigleen, but it's got great comedy, good batshit insanity and ends on a high note. It's an all time classic and like adventure time left a mark on animation. It's succesor close enough was even better and go seek it out since it's hard to find offically because warner bros fucking blows.

Sym Bionic Titan: Octus, brian poshen's best role and one of the best designs i've seen. The show itself was treated oh so shittily and i'ts nice Gennendy now has more of a blank check over at cartoon network (Still need to watch more of Unicorn: Warriors Eternal) as they owe him after canceling this. Still a good show and I hope he can continue it someday.

The Problem Solverz: no faviorites, didn't like this one. Almost forgot to include it. Next.

Robotmy: Don't really have a faviorite character but I did last this one. Like Titan deserved better and that's a bit of a theme at times during this era: some shows got the runs they deserved, others died fast

Gumball; Penny. I liked her first design and her unshelled one was a nice twist. She also serves as a nice contrast to her boyfriends nonsense and i'm glad they pulled the trigger on that fast. Carie is a close second. As for this show I honestly need to see more as I simply lost touch when I stopped having cable and didn't catch up on streaming. But it's an excellent show. While I hated it's sticking to the status quo, in hindsight it dosen't: both the boys get girlfriends in stand out episodes, their grandma gets married, richard's dad comes back, change does happen it's just more on the simpsons scale of "it's gradual". I"m happy it's coming back and to see a movie eventually.

Secret Mountain Fort Awesome: I got nothing. I didn't really watch this one, wasn't intrested, what I saw wasn't good. Next.

Ben 10 Omniverse: Rook Mothefucking Blonko. For all the ups and down with the series, he was a worthy partner to ben, a fun character and a nice contrast being the more reserved by the book badass normal to Ben's empowered moron. One of the series best additions, bring him back whenever it returns. Have child him adventure with ben I don't care. As for the show as a whole.. it's a fucking mess. It has some really good stuff like the initial arc, Blox (My faviorite transformation of this era), and some good one off episodes... but also a lot of wacky nonsense. The show tried to restroe some of the og continuity the alien era ignored, which is good on paper but in practice left the franchise a spiraling mess, brought back some characters without properly reintroducing them (Though bringing lucy back was a good move and she was fantastic), and had a ton of ships for ben but settled on the worst option, making him a harem protaganist for no real reason. Some arcs were good, some eps were good, a lot of it is garbage, and the design work is excellent. It's not horrible but it is a hot mess of a show and a weird note to end the og continuity on.

Uncle Grandpa: Pizza Steve. This show was alright: Id idn't like it at first but it grew on me a little, though I just kinda drifted from it. As batshit insane as the idea was, I did like the steven universe crossover as it somehow worked and has some of the best pearl moments series wide. Otherwise the series is alright and probably worth another look.

Steven Universe: Garnet. The series has a LOT of great characters (Pearl and Greg are close seconds and thirds), but Garnet is a throughly intresting character, a kind leader and a good mom to steven with one of the most badass musical numbers in all of animation. Pearl again is a very close second being a nicely flawed character. The series as a whole.. is one of my faviorite cartoons of all time if not my faviorite. It's one I need to rewatch: beautifully animated, paced decently (Far from perfectly but looking at the bigger picture now it's over, not nearly as bad as it's rep was. It spaced out story moments with life just happening). The cast is memorable and charming as hell, the fight scenes some of the best in western animatoin and animation period, and the finale while rushed due to rebecca having to take a seasons worth of finale material and compress it into a few extra episodes she had to beg cartoon network for, is utterly satisfying. Steven Unvierse Future: While this one is a bit later might as well get it out of the way. I love this one. I get why some don't, it's divisive, to me it feels like a valid deconstruction of Steven's trauma, an epilogue that shows what having this savior complex thrust on him, this need to fix grown adults, would do to the poor boy and ends with him finding his own life. It's bleak as hell in places, but it ends on a note of hope and humanity that makes the jouney worht it.

Clarence: Sumo whose some classic tom kenny and usually pretty fun. A weird note to end on as while Steven Universe, like adventure time before, changed animation, where as CN kinda buried Clarence after it's creator's public breakdown and like Gumball I lost touch eventually. That being said.. Clarence is excellent. The crew rebounded well, the characters are charming and it's a nice slice of life show. I wish Jeff was less of a jerk, but otherwise it's a really fun show with a really kind protagonist.

[jo-harrington]

Blurb request: The immortal snail ☠️

…anon what?

But I have an idea.

Find other Hymns of Heaven here.

And find the Master List for As Above, So Below here.

April 1984

Eddie’s first DND character with Hellfire Club had been a Tabaxi Rogue named Perceval Stayne—after Sir Perceval of Arthurian legend…and of course who could pass up playing a cat burglar. He’d been a freshman, eager to play with real players and not just his friends. Mickey had said Perceval was cool.

Harvey Simpson, the founder of the Hellfire Club and the DM at the time, told him that Perceval would have been great…if only his best stat wasn’t charisma, of all things.

“Dexterity,” Harvey tapped at the character sheet. “Or intelligence should be your highest.”

“My uncle says my mouth is my best feature,” Eddie explained. He wanted a cool character..but he also wanted one that felt true to him to begin with. Make a good impression and not fumble endlessly. He’d get better. “I could sell ice during a blizzard.”

Harvey had huffed and puffed but ultimately let him do what he wanted. And Perceval’s big mouth is what got the party out of a few pinches several times.

Eddie’s big mouth got them out of several pinches.

It also got him a second date with you at, coincidentally, the library so he could do some prep for the next few sessions.

“It’s a really cool game, I swear,” Eddie explained. “I’m DM this year and we’ve got this freshman Gareth who is like…he’s been trying so hard. But seeing his eyes light up…that’s just why we play, you know?”

You whispered questions and answers to each other as the two of you perused the shelves—what kind of books you liked to read, favorite book as a child, that kind of thing—and then Eddie surprised you with a study room in the depths of the library reserved just for the two of you.

“So we can have snacks without getting yelled at,” he explained.

“Just snacks?” You teased.

“And maybe kiss a little without getting caught,” he grinned mischievously and you shut the door before planting one on him with a giggle.

The date was spent mostly in silence, the study room filled only with the sounds pages turning, a pencil scribbling, snack wrappers crunching, and the occasional laughter as one of you—usually Eddie—started playing footsie.

You grabbed a few books for yourself, easy reads, simple chapter books with mystery and fantasy and intrigue to keep with Eddie’s theme.

Currently you were lost in the pages of Tuck Everlasting, you even ignored Eddie’s last attempt to get your attention. He watched you for a moment, memorized the way your eyes darted across the pages and your expression changed.

He wanted to live here forever, in this moment. And something at the very depth of his being thought that he would feel this way about every moment, every second, that he was gifted with you.

“Obviously your favorite is Jesse,” he broke the silence and your eyes darted up to meet his. You fidgeted in your seat as you watched him watch you. “Handsome, adventurous—”

“Cocky,” you smirked.

“I would say ‘confident.’” Eddie shrugged. “Tell me I’m wrong though.”

“You are wrong, actually,” you set the book down and folded your hands over it. “Miles is my favorite.”

Eddie frowned.

All of the girls in his 6th grade English class had a silly crush on Jesse. He never understood until he reread the book last summer when he was preparing for his first campaign as DM, hoping to include some secret stranger like the man in the yellow suit. Then he likened himself to Jesse. Enjoying life where he could, despite the hand he’d been dealt…or in spite of it. He was romantic…wanted Winnie to marry him one day…drink from the spring so they could be together forever.

“Jesse…he was impulsive,” you began, as if you could read his mind. “What more did he love about Winnie than the fact that he could be himself around her. Because the family’s secret was finally free. She was just a child who saw this…fantastical thing, this family and this fun older boy, and she thinks she’ll be free of this stuffy life in Tree Gap…and when trouble arose, she wanted to protect her friends.

“Jesse just wanted to repay her…there was no…real love there outside of maybe friendship. But he’s lonely too…wanted to reward himself. Maybe he could actually love Winnie one day…maybe…but he’d always have another person to be free with. Offering her immortality is for him more than it was for her. Or for love.

“Miles though…Miles was bitter, sure. Because he loved with everything he had in him. Love his wife, loved his family so deeply that he never wanted to be without them. He wanted a normal life together with them. No matter the circumstances.

“He would give anything—would rather die—than see his his wife and children hurt or unhappy,” you concluded, breathing heavily.

Eddie watched you for a second and contemplated your words. He’d never really thought of it that way before. Yes Miles was a character you could empathize with, his loss of the ones he loved…but…

“But he couldn’t die,” Eddie muttered.

“No he couldn’t.”

“So what would you pick then?” Eddie challenged. “A normal life with someone you loved, grow old, and die together…or an eternal carefree life?”

“Eddie, eternity isn’t carefree,” you deadpanned as you picked up the book and shook it at him. “Case in point.”

“Ok fine…you can live forever and do whatever you want,” he started and looked around the study room for a second to come up with some idea. “But…your eternal nemesis is a snail that will kill you if it finds you and touches you.”

“What the fuck?”

“Answer the question ma’am, the audience is waiting,” Eddie spoke into an imaginary microphone and then held it to you across the table.

“I would take the normal life, Monty,” you answered.

“Interesting,” Eddie leant back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest.

“Really heavy second date questions here.”

“Thank you. Gotta know if I’m gonna keep you.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you replied and shook your head. “I already kissed you after you said you’d drink trash juice.”

“Ha fucking ha.”

“Alright, spotlight’s on you now,” you held the imaginary microphone to your lips now. “Edward Munson. Normal life with someone you loved, or a carefree eternity?” You held it out to him.

“You forgot about the snail Alex,” Eddie spoke into the microphone.

“Clock’s ticking,” you urged and hummed the Jeopardy theme song.

“If I really had to choose, sure a normal life with you would be my choice sweetheart.” He winked and watched you fidget again.

“But I think we’re missing one key factor here. Miles didn’t know he was immortal until his kids were grown, until his wife was old. Otherwise, I would bet he would have definitely had them drink from the spring too. Both of the brothers had the same idea.

“So if, if we’re playing by Tuck Everlasting rules here,” Eddie leaned forward and spoke into the microphone, eyes never leaving yours, never blinking. “I think I would say ‘why couldn’t we have both?’”