#top gun bomber | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reasonsforhope · 6 months ago

Text

Double dose of articles about how crime is actually plummeting

From the UK:

"Seventy-eight per cent of people in England and Wales think that crime has gone up in the last few years, according to the latest survey. But the data on actual crime shows the exact opposite.

As of 2024, violence, burglary and car crime have been declining for 30 years and by close to 90%, according to the Crime Survey for England and Wales (CSEW) – our best indicator of true crime levels. Unlike police data, the CSEW is not subject to variations in reporting and recording.

The drop in violence includes domestic violence and other violence against women. Anti-social behaviour has similarly declined. While increased fraud and computer misuse now make up half of crime, this mainly reflects how far the rates of other crimes have fallen.

All high-income countries have experienced similar trends, and there is scientific consensus that the decline in crime is a real phenomenon.

The perception gap

So why is there such a gulf between public perception and the reality of crime trends? A regular YouGov poll asks respondents for their top three concerns from a broad set of issues. Concern about crime went from a low in 2016 (when people were more concerned with Brexit), quadrupled by 2019 and plummeted during the pandemic when people had other worries. But in the last year, the public’s concern about crime has risen again.

There are many possible explanations for this, of which the first is poor information. A study published in 1998 found that “people who watch a lot of television or who read a lot of newspapers will be exposed to a steady diet of crime stories” that does not reflect official statistics.

The old news media adage “if it bleeds, it leads” reflects how violent news stories, including crime increases and serious crimes, capture public attention. Knife crime grabs headlines in the UK, but our shock at individual incidents is testament to their rarity and our relative success in controlling violence – many gun crimes do not make the news in the US.

Most recent terrorist attacks in the UK have featured knives (plus a thwarted Liverpool bomber), but there is little discussion of how this indicates that measures to restrict guns and bomb-making resources are effective."

-via The Conversation, May 13, 2024

And the United States:

"[The United States experienced a spike in crime rates in 2020, during the pandemic.] But in 2023, crime in America looked very different.

"At some point in 2022 — at the end of 2022 or through 2023 — there was just a tipping point where violence started to fall and it just continued to fall," said Jeff Asher, a crime analyst and co-founder of AH Datalytics.

In cities big and small, from both coasts, violence has dropped.

"The national picture shows that murder is falling. We have data from over 200 cities showing a 12.2% decline ... in 2023 relative to 2022," Asher said, citing his own analysis of public data. He found instances of rape, robbery and aggravated assault were all down too.

Yet when you ask people about crime in the country, the perception is it's getting a lot worse.

A Gallup poll released in November found 77% of Americans believed there was more crime in the country than the year before. And 63% felt there was either a "very" or "extremely" serious crime problem — the highest in the poll's history going back to 2000.

So what's going on?

What the cities are seeing

What you see depends a lot on what you're looking at, according to Asher.

"There's never been a news story that said, 'There were no robberies yesterday, nobody really shoplifted at Walgreens,'" he said.

"Especially with murder, there's no doubt that it is falling at [a] really fast pace right now. And the only way that I find to discuss it with people is to talk about what the data says." ...

For cities like San Francisco, Baltimore and Minneapolis, there may be different factors at play [in crime declining]. And in some instances, it comes as the number of police officers declines too.

Baltimore police are chronically short of their recruitment goal, and as of last September had more than 750 vacant positions, according to a state audit report...

In Minneapolis, police staffing has plummeted. According to the Star Tribune, there are about 560 active officers — down from nearly 900 in 2019. Mannix said the 2020 police killing of George Floyd resulted in an unprecedented exodus from the department...

In Minneapolis, the city is putting more financial resources into nontraditional policing initiatives. The Department of Neighborhood Safety, which addresses violence through a public health lens, received $22 million in the 2024 budget."

-via NPR, February 12, 2024

#crime #violate crime #united kingdom #england #wales #united states #us politics #baltimore #san francisco #police #defund the police #good news #hope

1K notes · View notes

crappymixtape · 10 months ago

Text

because of you • part two

PART I • PART III • PART VI • PART V • EPILOGUE // REQ -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 3.3k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

B E C A U S E O F Y O U • P A R T T W O 🎶 theatre, etta marcus

❝ IS IT EASIER WHEN YOU DON’T HAVE TO START AGAIN? WHEN YOU DON’T WANNA MAKE AMENDS? ❞

‘Stealing a Winnebago’ had been easier than you’d assumed, but the getaway execution went exactly like you thought it would. Absolute disorganized chaos and the way Steve peeled out of the trailer park dumped you into Robin’s lap for the first mile. Made you even more skeptical of whatever half-assed plan these people had frankensteined together and now? You found yourself browsing the clothing section of The War Zone.

What in the hell were they thinking coming here anyway? From Eddie’s retelling of what happened under Lover’s Lake it sounded like not one of them knew anything about hand-to-hand combat, let alone guns. Couldn’t even land a punch, but thought they could handle this? Walls of rifles on display, rounders full of bulletproof gear and cases upon cases of bullets and god, you wanted to leave.

“Hey,” Nancy’s voice pulled your attention away from the tactical vests you were staring at, her eyes wide and earnest as she looked over at you. “If I go over to the counter, you gonna be okay?”

“Oh, totally,” you lied. “Yeah, was gonna go look over here anyway,” and you thumbed over your shoulder at more vests.

“Okay, good.”

She gave you a small Nancy-Wheeler-smile and left you there alone in a sea of camouflage. In the middle of a store you’d never have set foot in before all this and making you second guess yourself. Second guess what was seemingly more and more a stupid decision to go along with all of this and you huffed a sigh in frustration.

“Should’ve stayed in the trailer,” you grumbled under your breath, fighting the urge to just walk out, but apparently you weren’t the only one wandering around all the puke green clothing.

“Huh, didn’t know you had good ideas.”

The sound of Steve’s voice made your hands ball into fists, nails pressing half moons into your palms.

“Do you ever have anything nice to say?” you sneered and he had the audacity to be so causal. Didn’t even look up from the tactical vests he was flipping through and tossed one into his cart.

“Not to you I don’t.”

Anger rose in your chest like a pot boiling over, so hot it made your cheeks burn as you glowered over at him.

“What’s your problem?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yep,” and still he didn’t look at you. Picked a bomber jacket off the rack and piled it on top of his vest and it was the last straw.

Stalking over to his side of the rounder you got right up in his face, dug a finger into his chest and said, “Liar.”

His eyes flickered at your accusation, sardonic smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he looked down at you and warned, “Don’t say things you can’t prove, Princess.” And he leaned into your finger. Waited for you to fold. Tsked at your attitude and the sound of it triggered a memory so strong you felt like you’d been sucker punched.

Your second ever interaction with Steve Harrington happened the week before summer break.

You heard it while you were walking back to school from grabbing lunch at the diner. A high, sharp whistle followed by car horn and then—

“Owwww, damn baby!”

And you recognized the voice right away.

Tommy Hagan. Leaning out the passenger window of Steve’s BMW. Wolf-whistling at you and being a dick and you tried to ignore them, but then they were pulling up next to you and slowing way down.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Tommy purred at your back, your mouth twisting into a scowl at the sound of Eddie’s nickname on his tongue. “You need a rid–” he started to ask, but his question cut short when you turned around.

Mouth dropped open in shock for a split second as he realized who you were, Tommy quickly recovered and started to laugh. That obnoxious, hyena-like laugh that made you want to punch him and he smiled and whistled again.

“Shit, Stevie! Who knew the freak had an ass on her!”

“You kiss Carol with that mouth, Tommy?” you shot back, Steve stifling a snicker from the driver’s seat.

“Bet you could do for a kiss, baby,” Tommy tsked, pouted his lips at you and grinned, “Always so damn sour.”

“Yeah? Wanna find out why?” you threatened and it made Tommy grin even wider. Shark-like. Predatory.

“Park it, Stevie,” Tommy didn’t bother looking at his friend, eyes locked on you as he opened the passenger door and jumped out of the car while it was still moving. Walked right up and crowded over you, eyes narrowing as he leaned in, “And what if I do?”

Your stomach lurched, heart leaping into your throat as you stood your ground. You didn’t think he’d take the bait, but you also didn’t shy away. God, you wished Eddie was there. Tilting your chin up in defiance you glared him down.

“Tommy, c’mon man. Just leave it,” you heard Steve’s voice from over Tommy’s shoulder, tinged at the edges with desperation as he ran up on the two of you, but Tommy couldn’t have cared less.

“Well? What’re you gonna do about it, toots?” Tommy pushed again, toes of his shoes knocking against yours as he stepped even closer, towering over you and it hit you like a ton of bricks how in over your head you were.

“Tommy, just leave–”

“I didn’t ask you, Harrington!” Tommy snapped and you took the opportunity.

Grabbing a fistful of his shirt in your hands, you yanked Tommy down into you and drove your knee into his crotch as hard as you could.

“Oh, fuuuuck,” he choked out, folded in half and hands covering his junk as he dry heaved and you took a big step back.

“Coward,” you turned and hurled the word at Steve and watched it land heavy as his face shifted. Brows pinching together and mouth dropped open, but nothing came out as he struggled to say those two little words. I’m sorry. To tell you he wasn’t like his friend, but his silence betrayed him.

“You bitch,” Tommy grunted at you as he tried to straighten up, one hand still over his crotch.

“Don’t move! I’ll–I’ll get you expelled!” you threatened and it made him laugh. A mean, mirthless thing.

“No fuckin’ way. My mom’s on the school board, who’s gonna take your side?”

And you looked back at Steve for a split second, silently asking him to step in and do something, but he stood frozen in place. Still unable to go against his ‘best friend’ and what little belief you had left in him was shattered.

You were done with Steve Harrington.

Shaking your head, you fought back the tears burning at the corners of your eyes and ran up the path to the cafeteria doors. Disappeared behind them with a loud, metallic slam! and left Steve alone to drown in the deafening silence.

Don’t say things you can’t prove, Princess.

It was like no time had passed, like you were still there in that parking lot with Tommy towering over you and tsking at you just like Steve was doing now, but this time you didn't run away.

“Don’t call me that!” you shoved at his chest and he stumbled back a step.

“Don’t call me a liar!”

“All you do is lie, Harrington! Your entire life was built on lies,” you could see his pulse fluttering against his neck. Watched his jaw tick as he clenched down on the words he wanted so badly to throw at you, but you didn’t give him a chance. “Why are you even here? You don’t give a shit about Eddie. You don’t give a shit about anyone, you’re–”

“Enough!” you flinched as his shout drew the attention of a couple older guys looking at the hunting gear. “You don’t know anything about me, okay? Not a god damn thing,” and the second part was quieter, but they way he held your gaze after punctuated it heavy.

He turned away from you, hastily pushing his cart back toward the cashier counter and walked out the double doors, but you weren’t about to let him have the last word.

“Hey, I’m not done!” you shouted after him across the parking lot. Sharp and biting and it made him spin back around, arms flung out at his sides in exasperation.

“Oh, yeah? Fine. What else you got?”

“Well, for one, I’m not going to sit here while you lord around like King Steve. This isn’t high school. No one here gives a shit about any of that.”

He squeezed his eyes shut at his old nickname. Sucked in a breath and let it out slow to try and steady himself.

“I’m not like that anymore.”

“Seriously? Do you hear yourself? You’ve been a dick to me since I set foot in Max’s trailer! And honestly? I’m not surprised! You think I don’t remember all the shit you put me through, put us through in school?” you shot back and he opened his eyes to glare over at you.

“Like I said, Princess–”

“I said don’t call me that!”

“–you don’t have any idea what this is. What we’re up against. None. You’re in over your head.”

“Okay? And what, I’m supposed to sit here on my hands and say, ‘It’s fine! Steve Harrington and all his little friends will fix this’?? You’re out of your mind!”

“And you think you can?” he shot back and your heart rate thrummed heavy in your ears.

“You know, Eddie says he trusts you now, but hell if I will. No fucking way,” and as you turned and cut past him back to the Winnebago he had to jog to keep up.

“Hey! Eddie almost killed me! With a fucking beer bottle!”

You huffed a laugh and kept walking, shaking your head at the accusation and incredulous at the lengths he was going to prove his point.

“Why should I believe you?” you called over your shoulder, “You’re probably just gunning for a headline: Steve Harrington, Hero of Hawkins!”

“Headline?? I–are you kidding me? You think I’d do all this for a headline??”

And finally you stopped at the bottom step of the Winnebago and Steve seized his chance.

“You really think I’m that superficial?” he shot at your back, but you didn’t turn around. Didn’t even acknowledge him and he spent what little patience he had left. “Hey! I’m talking to you!”

But you were already gone. Frozen in place with the world growing dark. Tree line ahead of you blurring. Unfocused and liquid like water and the ground swam under you as a voice echoed in your mind.

I see you.

The sound of Steve still talking behind you turned to fuzz, crackled like radio static and faded away into ear-splitting silence. Deafening and swallowing you whole and then you felt it. The ground falling out from underneath you and you were drowning in the dark and the voice that echoed in your mind pulled you even deeper.

Resisting will only make it worse.

❝ AND I NEVER HAD A TASTE FOR LIARS OR THE UNIQUELY UNINSPIRED ‘CAUSE I DON’T NEED TO BE DESIRED ❞

Steve glared daggers at your back. Anger hot and fuming and fueled by the fact that you had the nerve to ignore him and god, he wanted to prove you wrong.

“Are you trying to piss me off? Cos its work–” but the words died in his throat as he came around to face you. “Oh. Oh, shit,” with a quick glance over your shoulder he saw everyone else finally coming out of the store and he didn’t wait to call for help.

“Munson!! Eddie!” Steve yelled over your shoulder at your best friend before grabbing your shoulders in his hands and squeezed at them. Leaned down to try and meet your unfocused, far away gaze and when none of it worked he felt his chest grow tight.

Not again.

“Hey, hey! Look at me!" panic clawed its way up his throat as he shook your shoulders, "Stay with me! Munson–hurry up!”

Your eyes were glazed over, tears gathering at the corners as your whole body started to tremble. Breathing stuttered and caught in your throat. Lips parted and trying to pull air in, but it wasn’t enough and Steve felt his hand twitch. Wanted to press it to your cheek to try and ground you, reach you and bring you back, but then Eddie was finally at your side and shoving Steve out of the way.

“Sweetheart! Can you hear me? Shit, shit, shit. What happened?? Honey? Look at me!” Eddie cradled your face in his hands. Did what Steve couldn’t. Voice ratcheted up, his usual low timbre a high pitched thing driven by fear and hearing it doused any remaining anger that had settled into Steve’s chest and replaced it with something else.

With helplessness. Regret. Remorse.

With the slow realization that everything he’d just said to you wasn’t worth it. Remembered how Nancy had yelled at him, just like you, outside of the gym. You’re bullshit! And his throat squeezed with guilt for messing it all up again because he was bullshit. He was a liar and you were right. Had he learned nothing?

He looked at you, your face contorted with fear, and he felt something new flicker within him. A feeling blooming at the pit of his stomach. One he was so certain couldn’t possibly exist when it came to you, but as he stood there watching Eddie try to shake you back from the dark he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Steve, help me!” tears cut down Eddie’s cheeks as he called to him and pulled him hurtling back to Earth. Desperate. Pleading. Begging him to do something and it shook Steve back into action.

Heart pounding in his chest, adrenaline coursed through Steve's body and fought off the fear that had threatened to trap him in choke hold.

“Max, gimme your Walkman!” he shouted over your shoulder.

The rest of the group had started running back to the Winnebago as soon as they’d heard yelling and when Steve asked for the cassette player, Max knew time was running out.

“Shit,” she hissed under her breath and broke into a sprint, scrambling to untangle the headphones from around her neck as she hurried to get to you. “Here! It’s still Kate Bush, is that–”

“Doesn’t matter–Munson get these on, hurry!” Steve, snatched the Walkman from Max and crammed it into Eddie’s outstretched hands.

“Please, please, please,” fell from Eddie’s lips, desperate, praying that this would work as he fitted the headphones on and pressed them against your ears, “Please.”

Blinking heavy, you strained your eyes against the black. Against the suffocating dark you suddenly found yourself in. The stand of vivid, green ash trees lining the parking lot replaced by gnarled branches, dark and leafless. Bright yellow buttercups snuffed out by thick, wet vines that snaked their way across the ground under your feet.

You weren’t in the parking lot of the War Zone anymore, not really, and as you breathed in the sickly, ashen air your heart stopped in your chest.

The Upside Down.

“Eddie? Eddie!” you shouted into the dark, red lightening cracking the sky in two, and when no one answered you knew you were utterly alone.

Panic gripped you like a vice as you thought of Chrissy. Of Fred and Patrick and dread filled your stomach. Utter hopelessness and grief and when you whipped around to run you felt something tangle around your leg. Wrapping up, up, up and pulling you down, down, down.

You braced for it, ready to break your fall with your hands, but you never hit and instead found yourself lifting into the air. Unhinged laughter filling your ears as more vines snaked around your arms and legs and you swore you were going to be sick.

It was

Him.

“Why isn’t it working?? God dammit, work!” Eddie was yelling at the Walkman, his composure unravelling as Chrissy’s last moments flooded his mind. “Is she gonna die? She can’t die!” he pleaded and his voice cracked, a sob caught in his throat, “Please don’t let her die!”

“Hey hey, hey! Get a hold of yourself. That’s not gonna happen, okay? It’s gonna work,” Steve gripped Eddie’s shoulders, looked him in the eye and tried to reassure him, but when he glanced over at you he knew he couldn’t make that promise. “Please work,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Where are you going? You can’t leave. Not yet.

Vecna’s voice was everywhere. Flooding every part of you and you feared you would never feel joy again. Would never escape this. Would be stuck here forever screaming into the void, hanging on Vecna’s every whim.

I would like very much to show you where I’m going. Please, take a seat.

And the vines yanked you down, squeezed tight around your wrists and legs and held you fast against the ground, rocks digging painfully into your back.

“Please, let me go!” you pleaded into the dark. “Please, I–” but your mouth went dry as a shadowy figure appeared through the ash. Coming closer and closer in the dark with each heavy step and when it finally stopped, feet at your head, your blood ran cold.

Wet, sinewy skin. Muscles exposed and stretched taut. Eyes that pierced your mind and knew every single one your thoughts. Knew all the dark things spiraling there and made them worse. Clawed at you with spindly, protruding hands and long, dagger-like claws and suffocated you with the smell of something rotten.

Of decay.

Of death.

Reaching a hand down, Vecna held it over your face, inches away from touching you as you struggled against your restraints, but they constricted tighter with your every move.

“Please,” you were crying openly now, tears cutting paths through the ash that had settled on your cheeks, but he ignored you.

I want you to tell your friends, I want you to tell them everything you see. Everything I show you.

“No, please!”

Tell them!

“No, I can’t–”

Tell them everything!

And then your head felt like was being cleaved in two. White hot light fracturing the black sky into thick shards and your screams were the only thing you could hear as Vecna pried open your mind and poured into you his vision for the future...

Hawkins in ruin.

Four gashes in the earth. Cavernous. Hot and angry and full of fire.

Your family. Lying scattered across your lawn. Motionless and still and limbs bent wrong.

Tell them!

Your friends hanging in the air just like Chrissy, Fred, Patrick.

Eyes empty, slack-jawed and lifeless, bones snapped like twigs.

Tell them!

Eddie and Robin and Nancy and Steve and–

“NO!” you screamed, the sound pulled painfully from your lungs as you felt your legs give way and collapsed into yourself.

“Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”

Steve scrambled to grab hold of your shoulder and barely caught you before your bare knees hit the pavement.

You heard birds chirping. Sunlight filtering through the backs of your eyelids as you kept them squeezed shut, but the air was clean. Smelled fresh and as you slowly opened your eyes you realized you weren’t choking on ash anymore.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Steve was still holding onto you, your hands pressed into his thighs as you braced yourself, the feeling of nausea overwhelming.

“I saw him,” you whispered, only Steve could hear you and you started to cry.

“Him?” Steve asked unnecessarily, glancing up at Eddie. Hoping, no praying, if he asked maybe you’d give a different answer. One that wouldn’t involve death and the end of the world and everything hinging on this stupid fucking plan, but he knew.

Everyone knew.

Eyes glued on their feet. Arms folded over their chests and uneasy with the weight that had settled over the group.

“Vecna.”

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART TWO OF A – POSSIBLY – FIVE PART SERIES, PART FOUR AND FIVE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

591 notes · View notes

loveshotzz · 1 year ago

Text

My name’s Elvira, but you can call me tonight

steve harrington x eddie’sbestfriend!reader

Tongue Tied

summary: A Halloween party, Brenda, and teaching Steve that shotgunning isn’t just a trick guys use to kiss girls.

wc: 2.9k

warnings: My blog is 18+ fem!reader, slight jealousy, and a little insecurity if you squint, fluff, weed smoking and mentions of drinking.

<- 🎃 chapter one | mini series masterlist

Tina’s ‘witches brew’ was maybe just as bad as the music she picked, but Steve Harrington was staring at you from across the crowded room.

You’d only ever seen Top Gun once, and in all honesty you didn’t even need to watch it to know that he looked better than Tom Cruise. The brown leather of his bomber jacket fits snug across his broad shoulders, and tappers tight around his waist. It’s half way zipped up, revealing the white shirt underneath and the aviators that he’d walked in wearing dangling from the collar. The weight of them pulls the fabric down enough to catch a glimpse of the dark hair that covers his chest, and your throat dries up at the thought of him shirtless. His Levi’s are light washed and well worn, a soft outline of where he usually keeps his wallet dangerously close to where your gaze wants to linger. The black combat boots he wears somehow make his feet look even bigger, your thighs press together under your dress.

His eyes roam the length of your body the way you hoped they would when you decided to dress up as The Mistress of the Dark herself. Your plunging neckline begs for his hungry gaze, and you push up your chest to encourage it. A thick black belt hugs tight around your waist, accentuating your curves in a way that has you feeling more confident than normal. Especially when you catch the way he bites his bottom lip in a smirk, darkened eyes lingering on the fake dagger resting against the softness of your tummy. Wiggling your long black nails at him, you can’t help but relish in the fact that a simple wave makes the former king of Hawkins cheeks flush the same shade of red as your lips.

It had been four days since that night with Steve. A whole 96 hours and the boy across the room from you has occupied your thoughts for every minute of every single one. It was becoming a real problem, but yet here you were at a Halloween party you’d already said no to because you knew he would be here.

Robin’s very obviously telling a story next to him, her hands moving wildly as she gets more worked up with whatever is happening in it. She’s too focused on the way Nancy’s giggling in front of her to notice that her best friend isn’t listening, the full weight of his attention making your insides warm.

Is this what it’s like to be one of those girls?

Steve chugs the rest of his beer, throat bobbing with every large gulp before wiping his lips with the back of his hand. He holds your gaze even when you see him say something to Robin who waves him off, lost in the oldest Wheeler’s big blue eyes, and the first few steps in your direction is enough to send your heart into overdrive.

You almost lose sight of him when he starts to cross the makeshift dance floor in the living room, his wild auburn hair the only thing staying in your line of vision. It’s a mess of dancing bodies, and orange and black balloons already starting to lose their luster falling from the ceiling.

His eyes meet yours in the crowd and you feel the heels you can hardly walk in start to carry you closer, stepping over the empty cups and streamers that litter the floor. His smile widens, and you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed when you feel your cheeks push up doing the same.

It’s when Steve finally makes it to the edge of the crowd, stopping just a few more steps away from you when it happens. When she happens.

Brenda.

She’s dressed as Madonna, her perfect blond hair teased just right, giving it more volume than Steve’s even on his best day. Black fishnets cover her toned legs, with a matching tutu that leaves little to the imagination stopping just above the curve of her ass.

The corset she wears gives her breasts the kind of push that you know is the reason for Steve’s blush when she steps in front of him. Perfectly manicured pink nails dragging up his chest before her palm flattens just underneath where his sunglasses hang.

His eyes flicker between the two of you, a nervous laugh leaving his mouth at whatever she’s saying. He scratches the back of his neck when he responds, and it makes her throw her head back in flirty giggles before her fingers start playing with his jacket zipper.

The sting of rejection is harsher than you thought it’d be, and you hope he can’t see the way it wipes the smile clean off your face. Girls like Brenda always seemed to be the boy’s kryptonite. The urge to find your best friend is what keeps your feet moving, almost like that was your plan all along. The joint you stashed away earlier in his jacket pocket calls your name, and you don’t look at Steve as you walk past the two of them, even when you see his hand reach out for your wrist.

It’s just Steve anyway.

You keep telling yourself that, hoping that it will ease the slight lump in your throat. An anger bubbling just under the surface turning the heat in your stomach into something more like lava, a volcano bubbling, just ready to explode as you try to convince yourself that you don’t have a crush.

When you find Eddie in the next room, his tongue deep in his girlfriend Cece’s mouth on the couch, and you can’t hide the bitterness that drips from your tone.

“Make sure to get some oxygen so you don’t pass out, Jesus Christ.”

Your rude interruption makes them both pull apart with a loud smack, the fake blood he’d sloppily smeared down the corners of his mouth almost gone leaving a pink stain on his pale skin instead.

“What’s your deal? Can’t you see I’m a little busy.” Eddie’s gaze narrows into an annoyed glare, “Aren’t you supposed to be doing the same thing to Harrington.”

“That’s not why I came,” you snort, crossing your arms and it makes him raise his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Bullshit.”

The two of you stare each other down, unwavering, it’s only when his eyes flick towards the dance floor that he sees the cause of your sour mood. The hard lines on his forehead soften before he rubs a ringed hand over his face with an exasperated groan. Cece wraps her arms around his waist tighter, hearts taking over her pupils when she gets a front row seat of her boyfriend being your best friend.

“Here,” he sighs under his breath, pulling open his jacket to pluck out the perfectly rolled joint inside his hidden pocket. He holds it out to you in a peace offering.

“Thanks,” you mumble as you take it, giving him a weak smile before tucking the cone in your belt next to your lighter, “Go back to sucking each other's faces off, sorry to interrupt.”

Your joke makes her giggle, and Eddie grin in the kind of way that's contagious.

“He’s an idiot,” the metal head tries to comfort, “Honestly, he’ll tell you himself.”

“I’m fine.” You keep your expression as unreadable as possible, but you know it's futile to try and hide from him, “It’s just Steve.”

It’s colder outside than when you first got here, and you don’t have nearly enough alcohol in your system to keep you warm. Goosebumps rise on the inappropriate amount of skin you have showing for the season, making you wish you’d grabbed your jacket. The breeze rustles the leaves that refuse to let go or their brittle branches, mixing with the muffled bass of the music inside, while your heels make a hollow thump against the wood of Tina’s back porch.

Pulling out the joint and your lighter from your belt, you take a seat on the top of the stairs that lead to her backyard. There’s a shiver that runs down your spine as your thumb flicks the wheel that brings the flame to life, a temporary heat warming your face as you spin the fat end over the fire to burn it evenly. The earthy smell hits your nose, shoulders already relaxing before you take the first toke. Bringing it to your lips, you tuck your lighter back inside your belt, leaning back on your palm to look at the clear night sky above you as you inhale your first drag into your lungs.

It’s just Steve.

When you exhale, your eyes stay trained on the white wisps of smoke that shades the twinkling of the stars behind it and you try not to think of Brenda’s pink nails running through his hair. Your next hit is much bigger. The music from inside gets louder, making you jump when you hear the sliding glass door open. Straightening up, you turn around with a glare ready for whoever the intruder is, only to be face to face with the boy you’re trying to convince yourself you don’t like.

“Hey, there you are.” His smile is easy, and you hate that it warms you like the sun just from looking at it.

You raise your eyebrows in acknowledgment, hollowing out your cheeks taking another drag before bringing your gaze back to the sky. His boots sound heavier than your heels against the wood, some steps making the deck creak under his weight. The silence is thick with words on the tips of both your tongues, but neither one of you is willing to break it first. He sighs awkwardly out of his nose, rubbing his palms against his thighs before taking the seat next to you. Your knees knock together, and the heat of him so close sends another shiver down to your bones.

“Jesus, you have to be cold. It’s like 40 degrees outside.” Steve doesn’t hesitate to start shrugging off his jacket, and you clock the movements from the corner of your eye.

“Steve, no, really I’m fine,” you try to protest but he doesn’t listen, thick tan arms coming into view.

“Please, I can hear your teeth from here,” he chuckles, standing up to drape the leather over your shoulders, and you try not to stare at the way the hem of his shirt rises up revealing a dark happy trail.

It feels like he’s everywhere when your shoulders slot into the warm pockets where he just was, wrapped up in him just like on your couch. The spice of his cologne clings to the fabric on the inside, and you have to fight back the urge to bury your nose into the collar and inhale.

“Well aren’t you gonna be cold now?” You ask, finally daring to meet his eyes, taking another hit.

“Nah, I’ll be alright.” He winks with the kind of confidence that makes your face hot, clasping his hands together over his spread knees making your shoulders bump.

“So, Top Gun huh?” Giggling, you finally earn a Steve Harrington eyeroll.

“Look, I didn’t have to buy anything okay. I wasn’t even going to come tonight, until I heard,” he stops himself, pink dusting his cheeks and you don’t think it's from the frost in the air, “I’m surprised you’ve even seen it, doesn’t seem like your type of movie.”

“What’s my type of movie, Steve?” You grin with a cocked brow, letting the end of the joint rest against your bottom lip, the heat from before blooming deep in your gut when he tracks the movement licking his.

“I don’t know,” his heavy gaze makes your throat bob, “You tell me.”

You don’t think you’re talking about movies anymore.

“Isn’t Brenda going to be looking for you?” You tear your eyes away from him, taking another hit to seem nonchalant. The loud snort you get in response makes you jump.

“Brenda? No, I’ve been dodging that girl for months.” Running a hand through his hair, he dares to snatch the joint from between your fingers like he was some kind of professional or something. “Is that why you ran off on me in there?”

“I did not run off!” You huff, ducking your head inside his jacket to glare at him from over the top of it, “Why would I do that?”

Vulnerability softens Steve’s features when he looks at you tucked into his coat like it’s always meant to keep you warm.

“I don’t know,” he repeats quietly, “You tell me.”

Too scared of rejection, it’s his turn to look away bringing the joint to his mouth in an attempt to take a hit. You watch him hollow his cheeks, impressed for a second until he opens it to exhale and blows nothing out. A giggle slips past your lips that breaks the tension, making him groan loudly trying to fight his own smile.

“Look, I’m still new at this okay.” He sighs, a breathy laugh escaping him with a shake of his head handing it back to you. He’s only a little embarrassed, too enamored by how cute you look giggling at him.

“Hey, the confidence was there, you just gotta work on the technique.” You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, something sweet dancing behind your eyes when you scoot a little closer. “Do you want me to shotgun it for you?”

It’s Steve’s throat that bobs now.

“Aren’t guys supposed to do that to girls? I mean, I’ve seen Eddie do it at a few parties…” he starts, eyes going wide when you scoff at him.

“Wow, your feminism is showing.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, it’s just like in movies - I’m not saying girls can’t - wow this is not coming out the way I want it too, I’m just going to shut up now.” Steve stammers, running another nervous hand through his hair, blowing out an exasperated breath before meeting you

with sheepish eyes.

“Are you driving tonight?” You ask, looking up at him from under your lashes, bringing the joint to your mouth.

“No, for once.” He gives you a lopsided grin that makes your head spin.

“Good.” Turning your body towards him, the confidence you’re trying to hang onto wavers being this close again.

It’s just Steve.

He looks nervous as you feel, but tries to hide behind a quiet laugh, the amber of the beer he drank inside lingering on his breath. The warmth of his palm finds a home on your fishnet covered thigh that’s revealed to him by the side slit of your dress, fingertips pressing into soft skin. The heat behind his stare makes your body buzz as you inhale the last little bit of the joint into your lungs, beckoning him closer with a hum, and a curl of your long nails you snuff the rest out on the stairs. Surely Tina won’t mind.

“Really?!” Steve half whispers, half yells but the whites of his teeth show giving him away.

The corners of your mouth twitch as you lean forward catching the way his gaze flicks down, and how the view makes the gold specs inside his eyes darken. Resting your hand on his cheek, the stubble tickles your palm when your fingers spread out, your thumb coaxing his chin down to open up more for you. His long lashes flutter when his nose bumps with yours, heads turning just enough for lips to brush for a second and you feel the blunt ends of his nails dig into the holes of your fishnets.

You release your hit, feeling him steal the air from your lungs, his hand daring to move up your thigh to your waist where he tugs you even closer. He holds it in for a second, both of your eyes meeting down the bridge of your nose but neither of you pulling away.

Do it.

When he exhales there’s hardly anything left, but you take it anyway, your fingers finding their way to the hair at the nape of his neck. He squeezes at the dough of your hips, in a silent plea to put him out of his misery and just when you think you’re about to show him mercy the sound of the music getting louder and the sliding glass door opening makes you both jump away.

“Hey! - Oh shit! Sorry Harrington, I didn’t know you were out here.” Eddie tries to apologize profusely with his eyes when he sees the glare you’re shooting him. “I just sold the last of my stuff and Cece’s ready to go, so if you still need a ride?”

Your best friend looks at Steve begging him to take the opening to hopefully spare his life.

“I didn’t drive tonight if you can actually believe,” Steve laughs nervously scratching the back of his neck, “or obviously I’d love nothing more for you to stay.”

He says the last part softly, just for you more than pleased when he sees you try and fight the smile from taking over your face.

“Maybe next time,” you look at him from under your lashes hoping that he picks up the fact that you want a ‘next time.’

The blush that turns the tips of his ears pink tells you he does. He watches you get up and start to shrug his jacket off, shaking his head as he stands up to stop you.

“Keep it tonight, honey. It looks better on you anyway.”

-> chapter three

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington thoughts #steve harrington series

683 notes · View notes

avianii · 8 months ago

Text

the top gun section of the USS Intrepid gift shop

#top gun #i started laughing so hard when I saw this #saw a really cool north american aviation hat but it was like 36 bucks :(#ALSO #MAV IN A HOODIE AND BOMBER JACKET?#I need to see it #and that hat is ugly af

34 notes · View notes

mitchellpete · 1 year ago

Text

Kinktober Day 4 - Thigh Riding

pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

cw: set during top gun: maverick, instructor!mav, established relationship, thigh riding, slight praise

word count: 1734

kinktober masterlist here.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

You weren’t expecting him home yet.

He must’ve gotten home while you were in the shower.

Brushing through your freshly conditioned hair, you swing your bedroom door open and catch the sight of him on the couch. You nearly beam with excitement from down the hall until you realize he’s very visibly sulking.

Even at the sound of the door opening, and your steps, he doesn’t look up. His sage green bomber lies carelessly beside him, like he’d just removed it and tossed it there. Arms crossed over his plain white tee, his face is pensive, his eyebrows tight.

“Baby, is everything alright?” you ask in a soft voice, standing where the hallway ends and the living room begins.

You seemingly startle him, and he looks up at you. Then there’s the immediate Maverick-style smile: the kind where his eyes remain downcast, his lips pulled together loosely in a shallow attempt at hiding whatever is bothering him. The kind of smile where he still looks sad.

You’ve been seeing it a lot lately, ever since your sudden move to North Island. It hadn’t been so bad at first, but the mission was getting closer. He was smiling less, his eyebrows tight on his face. Constantly thinking. You couldn’t do anything about it, either, and it frustrated you a bit. The only option you had was offering comfort, which usually fell short with Pete. Not very keen on comfort and assurance.. Very much on sulking and impulse decisions.

Still, you believed in him. And you had the utmost amount of trust in his ability to get his pilots through whatever the mission required.

“Why are you home so early?”

“Fight broke out. Dismissed everybody.” He momentarily shuts his eyes, drags a hand down his face and takes a deep breath.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you ask softly, leaning against the wall.

It’s then that he visibly takes in your appearance, his brow cocking ever so slightly.

Underwear, oversized shirt and your fluffiest white socks. Cheeks pink from a warm shower.

You watch the intrigue grow on his face.

At your question, he chuckles humorlessly and shakes his head, signaling you over with two fingers. “No. Come here.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice.

When he’s able to reach you, he immediately pulls you to him. You land on his thigh, almost kneeing his crotch. You snicker for a second, but then situate yourself, cupping his face in both hands. In a serious tone, “Are you sure? How do you feel?”

Mav just shushes you, choosing to place his attention on you instead of on the lingering cloud of stress hanging above him. You gradually sink into him as he leans up to press his lips to your collarbone. Very soft, gentle kisses, the tip of his tongue teasing your skin. Your hand absentmindedly finds the back of his head, fingers in his short, dark hair. His mouth always takes you by surprise, how good he is at making you feel with it.

“What are you doing?” You ask, a small groan escaping you as his tongue connects to his favorite spot on your neck.

“You look good,” he murmurs against you, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulls you forward, even closer.

His words go straight to the pit of your stomach, igniting your desire; the urge to feel every bit of him under you. “I do?” It’s almost like an immediate itch, and your hips involuntarily roll against him for friction. He looks up from kissing along your neck, tensing his thigh when he feels it. He stares at you, pensive.

“Is that what you want?” he wonders in a dangerously low voice.

You don’t respond, biting your lip in anticipation instead. Not that he gives you time to respond anyway, immediately deciding what it is he wants to do.

Mav swipes two fingers on his tongue, the sight alone nearly making you moan and then you have to actually bite one back when they immediately travel under your shirt and into the band of your underwear.

Pleasure buds at your core and you squeal in excitement as the wet pads of his fingers pry at your slit. He touches you roughly, eager to turn you on and have you grinding down on him as soon as he can. The thing is, you’re already turned on—were at the first sight of him, really, with that scowl on his face, knowing that he likes it when you help him relax sometimes. It feels like it’s the opposite right now, though, Mav eliciting a wet warmth over his fingers and onto your underwear. Your body beams in ecstasy; it’s just two of his fingers but it’s enough to have your head rolling back slightly, your hips bucking against his hand, needing more.

The tension in your muscles begins to unravel, and, at the same time, one grows in your lower abdomen. When Maverick decides his fingers are drenched enough, he removes his hand. You whine, low in the back of your throat, at the sudden emptiness. You instinctively roll your hips against his thigh again, but he grabs at your waist, interrupting you.

“Get your clothes off,” he orders, sneaking a finger into the band of your underwear and pulling it so that it snaps against your skin.

His hand is already under your shirt, and he aids you in removing it and tossing it off to the side, your torso now bare to him. There’s a growing desperation inside you, something he started that you need to finish, and so you barely remove yourself from his thigh to take your underwear off. If there was anything sexy about this, it certainly wasn’t the way you pulled on the stretchy band of your garment, leaning forward against Mav as you wrestled it down your legs. With your tits in his face, it’s Mav’s turn to snicker, grip strong on your ribs as you flop around on his lap in a harder-than-it-should-be attempt at stripping. You just really didn’t wanna have to be off of him for even a second. Not when he’s got you this hot and ready for him.

The material of his Levi’s is slightly rough on your skin, but you don’t mind, seating yourself on the meat of his thigh. With his hands around your torso, you fully expect him to guide you against him until he removes them completely, a very tiny smile on his lips.

“Mav,” you whine.

Tiny smile aside, Mav’s eyes are dark with perversity. “Work for it, come on, sweetheart,” he urges, tone sweet and entirely condescending.

Your hands grasp at his shoulders for a bit of leverage, your hips immediately rolling against him.

Maverick leans back against the couch and it leans you forward too, your clit roughly dragging along the dampening material. Your noises are whiney, impatient, and they go straight to Mav’s cock, half-hard and trapped in his jeans. Your knee rubbing up against it with each motion certainly isn’t helping, either. You know, though, that no matter how hard Maverick was aching to fuck you, he was always willing to power through if it meant that he got to play with you first. Him and that fucking ego—but God, it feels so good. He’s allowed to play with you as much as he wants, you decide, mid-haze.

Your fingers bunch up the material of his shirt, nails nearly clawing through at the skin of his shoulders as you buck against him. Maverick just watches patiently, hands at his side, ignoring his hard on. The corner of his mouth is still pulled up slightly, eyes still dark. He fucking loves seeing you like this.

You roll your hips again and again, drunk on the pleasure and on the scent of Mav’s cologne. Through your daze—and frankly, the lack of touch on his part—you find yourself gravitating closer and closer, mouth lingering on his jaw. He doesn’t deny you, but he remains nonchalant, watching you.

Heat spreads in your cheeks under his tantalizing gaze. He’s unfortunately way too good at intimidating you. A part of you feels small, vulnerable, exposed—how could you not? Sitting here fully bare, grinding down on his clothed thigh, grasping at his shirt for any sort of skin to skin contact like it were your one mission on Earth—but the other part of you doesn’t really care. You’ll play his game. Not just because it always leaves you gasping and whining for more, but because you know how much he likes it. You enchant him just as much as he does you.

Maverick suppresses a tiny groan when your knee brushes his aching cock again, but tries to remain collected as you near your orgasm. He’s not going to touch you until you’re cumming, he’s decided.

His jeans are soaked through when you’re eventually seconds away, which make it a bit easier to rub against, your hips rolling faster and faster as your moans spill near his ear.

“Good girl,” he praises softly, turning his face slightly to press his cheek to yours. “Look at you.”

You practically feel your pulse in your core at the sound of his voice, and it shoots through you like a pinball, settling into the tight knot in your stomach. “Touch me,” you gasp, hands roughly finding the back of his neck and wrapping around the back of his shoulders as the pleasure inside you reaches its peak. “Please.”

Maverick cocks a brow again—he fucking loves giving you that look—but you close your eyes in bliss as it washes over you, the white hot blaze licking you all over. You gasp again and again, and it’s then that Maverick’s arms wrap around you, holding you tight against him as you ride the wave.

“Just like that, baby,” he whispers, a hand tangling in your hair as you twitch in his grip.

Your grasp on him is probably stronger, holding onto him like you’re scared you’ll slide right off and melt into the floor.

You don’t, though, gradually sinking into his warm embrace instead. Your head rolls onto his shoulder as you float through your high. There’s a tiny stinging feeling down below where your skin dragged along the rough material, but you feel good. A bit more relaxed, even. You hope, as he smiles at you lovingly, that he does, too.

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fic #top gun fanfic #top gun fic #top gun maverick x reader #pete mitchell x reader #maverick x reader #maverick x you #pete maverick mitchell x reader #top gun 1986 #*#mav #kinktober 2023 #tom cruise x reader #pete mitchell #top gun headcanons

475 notes · View notes

lordgrimoire · 2 years ago

Text

The Goonion would Like a Word, Chapter 3

[Goonion Headquarters, Gotham, New Jersey]

“ORDER! ORDER I SAY!” The warehouse, once a hideout for a minor gang operating out of The Narrows, fell into a hush as the hundreds of gangsters shuffled back into their seats or places of observation, keeping their hands occupied with papers, phones, tablets, as long as they were out in the open and away from their weapons, that was good. “Alright.” The haggard voice of Bill, the local head of The Goonion, echoed across the room.

“The Ghost Investigation Ward, or the Guys in White as some call them, have been confirmed by the Red Hood Gang to be encroaching upon Gotham, Bludhaven, and Metropolis.” The crowd murmured at that, distress and frustration in their stances. “Yeah yeah, I know, It’s a crappy situations, specially since they want to do some unethical experimentation on the whole lot of us, Crane may actually be better than that now a days but the Joker is at The GIW’s level of things, on a good day, at worse they may be WORSE than the Joker’s “Experiments”. So keep your eyes peeled and if you see em grabbing any of ours, that includes your local Vigilantes, then make a call and get involved, the Bats may steal our bones and make our work difficult but at least they have rules. unlike these petty punks. QUESTIONS! DO YOU HAVE ‘EM?”

The room became a shouting match for a moment before settling into several people bullying their way into the center of the warehouse, at the base of the pile of crates that Bill was using for his podium. After some muttering a short man stepped up onto one of the lower crates. “We recognize the leader of the Goonion members serving under The Red Hood, go ahead Mister Kincaid.” Kincaid nodded.

“What are the rules of engagement? Or are we suspending those since these White Suited Bastards seem to look at the Geneva Conventions and the Laws of the Alley as more of a checklist than a warning?” Bill looked around before straightening.

“I’ve spoken with the Reps from as far East as Boston to as far West as Anchorage, until the Anti-Ecto Acts and GIW are suspended and disbanded the rules of Engagement will be To The Hilt, expect No Mercy, if they catch you, they will torture you, so give back as good as you can, unless you have your bosses or your local Cape nearby. Make Noise in that case, try to get the Bat’s attention, he likes them less than we do.” The room rippled with laughter as Kincaid surrendered his stand to a well dressed woman in a three piece suit and top hat, one of Penguins Goons. “We recognize the Icebergs head of security Miss Eliza Smith.”

“What do we do with anything we take from them? Their, Ecto-Blasters? They use Bazooka’s for Pete's sake!” Bill scratched his jaw as he looked around at the amassed Goons.

“Alright, we can keep those guns stashed away, until we know what they do you keep them as secured as possible, Remember we DO have a warehouse for such things.” The crowd murmured, if the GIW was packing THIS much heat then some plans had to be made. As Miss Smith stepped back down back into the swarm of other Penguin Goons another man stepped forward, wearing a bomber jacket with a question mark stitched on the breast pocket. “We Recognize Jonathan O’Brien of The Riddler’s crew.”

“Why are the GIW here? I read the brief but I’m not all that sure what “Ectoplasm” is.” Agreements were uttered by others in the crowd as Bill reached into the backpack by his feet and drawing out a sheaf of papers.

“Gotham,” He began, “Is on a thin patch of reality, the other side? The Afterlife? That’s on the other side, the only other thin patch in the US is a place called Amity Park and that place has been under siege for YEARS by the GIW, but there's the possibility of a portal opening here in Gotham, so the GIW is planning to put us to the same type of siege, few in, few out. Ectoplasm is the equivalent to matter, to molecules and the like, in the realms of the dead, it’s radioactive to a degree, with people exposed to it for long amounts of time becoming “Liminals”, living beings who gain some abilities, usually becoming more durable and observant, blending more with their environment, hell I think the bats and birds are liminal to some degree, and some of our bosses, some of US, and some of our common civvie friends who live in Gotham are Liminals, Jason Todd-Wayne, the primary rep for The Red Hood Gang, was dead for a while, and came back somehow, current assumption is that he’s a Liminal of a higher order of magnitude. If you have friends or family members who have experienced something similar, please show them the documents regarding Liminals that were with the brief, that answer your question O’Brien?” O’Brien nodded and stepped down, no one else stepped forward. “Alright then, all leaders stick around for information packets, everyone else, go home, keep an eye on things, and try not to walk on any graves. I call this meeting of the Goonion to a close.” With that Bill slammed his foot on the crate and the crowd began flowing out of the Warehouse, mostly in small groups and pairs, but no one left alone.

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

In a small town called Spittoon in Arkansas a small family of four waited, watching from a tree line as darkness filled the sky, drowning the last of the sunlight as instead the sky filled with specks of light, the stars coming into visibility as The Sun’s rays dimmed.

“Your sure you have everything?” Jazz looked over at her Aunt, still hovering near, still armed with a rifle that could probably take someone’s head off.

“Yep, just waiting on Extract.” Her Aunt nodded, patting her shoulder before ruffling Ellie’s hair and walking over to Danny. He had taken their parents alleged deaths the hardest, after they had begun accepting his Ghostly half and trying to understand more. Unfortunately when they presented their “New Research” to the GIW, they were deemed compromised. Once they had found that out they had enacted contingencies, locking the portal from the Living side, ensuring the only blueprints were with their children for ANY of their designs, and then taking the GIW on a goose chase as far in the opposite direction of where Jazz, Danny, and Ellie had fled as possible.

They made it to Olympia in Washington State, where the Ops Center had finally been forced to ground. Danny hadn’t felt anything but the reports that the “Mad Doctors Fenton” had been killed in a standoff had dealt a blow to him.

“Danny?” The boy looked up at his Aunt Alicia, “You’ll make it through, Maddie has always been built of sturdy stuff, and Jack is just the same.” The boy nodded, seemingly dragged from whatever thoughts were clouding his mind. The wind picked up an hour later as the four of them sat in the grass, no one had pulled out flashlights but the descending aircraft turned a single floodlight on, bathing the clearing in light before the hatch opened, and out stepped Red Hood.

Alicia turns her attention to her younger Nephew and Niece, allowing Jazz and Hood [one Jason Todd, apparently] and checked them over one last time before hearing a cleared throat behind her. When she looked over she saw the giant of a man who had taken an interest in her niece and suffice to say, he was not as tall as Jazz had made him sound. “He’s shorter than I thought he’d be.” Danny and Ellie cackled behind her as they began lugging their bags over to Jazz, Hood’s helmet not giving away his expression as he slumped slightly.

“Really?” Alicia smiled and patted his shoulder.

“Your not the biggest person I’ve met, these pipsqueaks will take after their Father more than likely, a little collection of giants if you will.” She could hear the poor bastard rolling his eyes. “Anyways, everything set up for them?” She crossed her arms, watching as Red Hood straightened out more.

“Yes, Jazz’s college credits have been transferred, their identities have been hidden and new ones have been confirmed, by the way I still want to know who made those, their good. And I think I’ve found a school for Danny and Ellie.” The Groans that sounded from the two youngest was like music to her ears, she nodded in approval. “I also told some of my extended family about, well, all the stuff going on, so they’ll have people looking out for them who are in the good end of the law.” Alicia raised a brow.

“Like the Bat?” Hood seemed to still and turn slightly. “It’s not hard to figure out if you have some of the pieces, Jazz didn’t even tell me, you were the Second Robin I take it?” Hood stared at her for a moment before nodding. “Alright, good to have that theory confirmed, we’re all a little too curious for our own good, us Walkers always have been, you take care of them, got it?” Hood nodded again, seeming far more sure of himself now, good, she’d hate to spook him too badly. “Good, now,” She unslung her rifle, unloaded the old bolt action, and handed it handle first to Hood, “A little something, that thing’s been in my family for years, This was my Grand Uncle’s first, then my Pop’s, then mine when Maddie didn’t want to have a “Live Firearm” in the house, I know the GIW will come snooping, but I’ve got my own plans for them, if they work out, expect me or a letter within six months.” She turned to her Nieces and Nephews who had come up behind Red Hood. “Be good, be safe, and don’t let them take you quietly, I love you all.” She stepped past Hood, embraced each of her Sister’s children one last time and stepped back, nodding to them before retreating to the edge of the clearing. When she turned around to watch as her the floodlight shut off and the plane rose into the sky, she knew she’d see them again, it may just take longer. She stayed in that clearing for a time after they were well out of eyesight, a fistful of rifle rounds in her pocket, a bowie knife in her boot, and plans, ever churning, in her mind. Alicia Walker had work to do.

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

[BEGIN TRANSMISSION, PENTAGON TO JL STATION:WATCHTOWER]

PENT: Prepare for Information Packet.

PENT: [FOLDER.FEDGOV.GIW.A-EA]

JLWATCH: Pentagon whose authority is this coming from.

PENT: Negative, Good Luck. Check on Captain Marvel.

JLWATCH: Pentagon?

JLWATCH: Pentagon Respond.

-SESSION TERMINATED-

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

To: Batman, Superman, WanderWoman

From: Comms Officer Sam Thule

Subject: The Anti-Ecto Acts and Ghost Investigation Ward

Boss, the Pentagon just sent us some stuff, I think you need to see this. If you can get Captain Marvel up here too we’ll need him here soon.

[SEE ATTACHMENTS]

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

Tag Section

@cass-brightwood @justwannabecat @luckykittens198 @vythika96 @ultimatebluff @amercurio @tkiesai @escelia @jaggedheart11 @lexdamo @ascetic-orange @botwadtict @nutcase8691 @delicioushologramperson @sailor-goddess @meira-3919 @icedbluesoul ALRIGHTY TAGGED FOLKS! IF YOU WANT TO CHECK ON THIS SERIES I WILL BE UPDATING THE LIST BELOW WHENEVER I UPDATE! SO USE THAT! [I may or may not link this chapter or further ones in a similar way, my brain is like, non operable at the moment.]

Links to other Chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

#dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #danny fenton #jason todd #batfamily #batman #bruce wayne #damian wayne #gotham #The Goonion #Bill the henchman #The Goonion V The GIW #the justice league

944 notes · View notes

defensenow · 5 months ago

Text

youtube

2 notes · View notes

miniwheat77 · 1 year ago

Text

Denim. (Gaz x Reader.)

!nsfw, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, blood, injuries, reader gets hurt, sorry if I missed any.!

Inspired by that famous blue denim button up Gaz’s operator has on 🥰

Not edited.

This one! ^^^

Your foot tapped nervously against the floor of the Humvee, you were sitting in the passenger seat, watching for any signs of an ambush.

This was an important mission, one for the books. Since Hassan had been killed, someone named Amir had taken his place. After he’d attacked an American Military base, he had a target on his back of course. It was a big day. You could feel that this was right, that you were going to take him by surprise. You could feel it in your gut. You weren’t apart of the fight with task force 141 when they took down Hassan, but you were now. Here you were. This was a good chance to prove yourself to them. You had all reinforcements. The plan was to surround the building he was inside, take cover. And hope that he would surrender.

“You okay kid?” Captain Price asks you. You nod your head. “Something just doesn’t feel right.” You mumble.

He nods his head. “Yeah. I feel it too. But we take orders and if Laswell is okay with it, I suppose we will be too.” He nods. You swallow hard. “These people..” you pause. “They’re different.” You look out the Humvee window, keeping an eye out. “What do you mean?” Gaz asks. He’s in the back seat. “They don’t surrender. If they feel trapped, they attack. I mean.. this is the place with the highest rate of suicide bombers. I just think this is a bad idea.” You mumble. You can hear the both of them sigh, like what you’ve just said changes everything. “I mean.. for christs sake, they send small children in with bombs to do their dirty work. They don’t care. They’re dirty and don’t care who they hurt. They beat and rape women out in the street, behead each other for small mistakes. I think we should turn back. He’s not going to surrender, we have to come in guns blazing.” You mumble.

Your heart races in your chest. So does John’s.

You don’t think he’ll listen to you, but he does. “Change of plans fellas.” He calls into his radio. “We’re going to go in hot. Forceful.” He mumbles. Hearing everyone call back. You sigh a breath of relief. Thank god. “Refuse to be a sitting duck to a terrorist.” John mumbles. He knows he’ll have someone to answer to, but he can’t find it in him to care all that much. Gaz can sense the relief in the way you relax your shoulders, reaching by the window to place a hand on your shoulder. Giving it a reassuring squeeze. Feeling you lean back into his touch. You and him were fairly close, but pretty much all of the task force was. It was always strictly platonic and had never stretched any further past that, it was forbidden obviously.

When you arrive, you can feel that same sense of nervousness filling up your stomach. It’s got it in knots, something still didn’t feel right. Like something bad was going to happen. When the building was surrounded, everyone raised their guns. Creeping closer to the building, le easy to file in through the doors. “Watch close. We don’t know what we’re going into.” Captain Price says, everyone agreeing. When given orders, everyone bursts through the doors, making their way through the first floor. “Watch the doors close. If he’s here, he’s going to try to run.” Ghost orders. Everyone agrees. Flowing through the building like a bad case of termites.

The top floor is where the problems start.

As soon as they caught sight of your cavalry, they fled to the top floor and set up traps.

“Okay. Gaz, Y/N. You guys start on the left. Me and Ghost will go to the last door on the right. Everyone else keep a close eye on the stairs. Watch close.” He nods. Everyone agrees, splitting up and going their separate ways. You push open the door, raising your gun quickly. Gaz looks past you. “Looks clear to me.” You nod. He agrees, the both of you stepping forward. A yell leaves your lips when a man emerges from behind the door, slicing right through your cargo pants. Gaz is quick to fire at the man, dropping him where he stands. He lifts you up, sliding you back behind the door and closing it. A few others come running. “Just one. He got her thigh with a knife.” Gaz breathes, tugging his first aid out of his pack and wrapping a bandage around your thigh. The cut looks deep. He’s worried. Gunfire makes everyone perk up, coming from the direction Captain Price and Ghost have gone. “Go, I’ve got her.” Gaz nods. “Shit. This did not go to plan.” You laugh. “Never does. You alright?” He asks. You nod your head. “Yes. I’m all good.” You smile. “I’ll be fine.” You breathe. He kneels down on one knee behind you, letting you lean back on him. He’s got his sidearm ready, just in case. After what feels like forever, he’s getting antsy. You need a doctor and he’s tired of waiting. Captain Price and everyone else emerges. “Did you get him?” Gaz asks. “Yep. He didn’t go easy but we got him.” Captain Price breathes. “They had 3 or 4 bombs. Ready.” Price kneels down in front of you. “You did good Y/N. Saved us from a big catastrophe.” He smiles. You send him a lazy smile. “Let’s get her back to base, yeah?” Gaz says, nervously. He’s worried about you.

The both of them each take an arm, helping you down the flights of stairs to the Humvee you arrived in. Getting worried when your head began to hang. “Shit. Y/N?” Gaz asks, stopping. They let you down. “Y/N?” Gaz asks again. Shaking you slightly. “Think she passed out.” Price says. Gaz presses his fingers to your throat, feeling your heart beat. “We got to get her back.” He nods. He lifts you up, hurrying down the remainder of stairs, Price throwing open the door. Gaz gets you inside, holding you. Price hurries to the drivers side, getting in.

—

You don’t remember much, but you wake up in the infirmary. You try to fight your way out of the wires and lines you’re connected to, resulting in you being restrained until you fully came to. Finally understanding that your leg had been cut pretty deep, barely missing your femoral artery. You were a little out of it from the meds they had you on, but you were doing better. “Do you want us to go get Kyle?” The medic asks, resulting in a confused look from you. “What?”

“Kyle, you kept asking for him. Do you want us to go get him?”

“Oh uh.. no. I’m okay.” You mumble. You must’ve been asking for him when you had to be restrained. You remember him sitting with you, when Captain Price emerged from that room. But that’s all you remember. “We’re going to work on some release paperwork and we’ll get you on your way, how does that sound?” She smiles. You nod your head. “Sounds amazing.” You sigh.

She disappears and a few minutes later, Gaz is pulling the curtain back. “Hey.” He smiles. “Hi.” You send him a lazy smile. “How are you feelin? Better than earlier I hope.” He chuckles. “Much. It hurts but it’s better.” You mumble. “Gotcha. Captain sent me down here, I’ll help you get back to your room.” He crosses his arms over his chest. He’s wearing his full set of gear. Vest and all. “I’m sure I could’ve handled it.” You laugh. The medic comes back with all of your paperwork and sets you all up to leave.

He walks alongside you, a hand on your lower back. He’s ready to catch you if you fall. All you have on are socks and the tied up gown they’d put you in. “Hey Gaz. I forgot to give you some bandages for Y/N’s leg. For any bleeding on her stitches just in case.” His radio goes off. “Uh. Here, come inside my room. I’ll run back before we go all of the way to the women’s barracks.” He leads you down the hallway a little more. You complain about the hospital gown the whole time.

“You can borrow something of mine. I’ll be right back.” He laughs, closing the door behind him as he makes his way back to the infirmary. You sit on the edge of his bed for a minute. The throbbing in your thigh is relentless. You stand up, step over to where he’s got his clothes, picking up the first shirt you see.

He steps inside his room, closing the door behind him. He’s got a washcloth in his hand for your thigh. He’s watching his feet until he steps inside, finally bringing his eyes up from the hard concrete floor.

His lips part, mouth falling open slightly. You’re finishing buttoning up his shirt, one of his favorites. It falls slightly over your hips, your white cotton panties still visible. “Oh.. uh. Sorry.” He looks away. You look up. “Sorry.. it’s the first thing I saw, I didn’t want to dig through your stuff too much.” You blush, crossing your arms over yourself. “It’s fine. No worries. Here, I brought you this.” He nods. Holding out the washcloth. “I can help.” He smiles. Seeing the blood seeping from the bandage on your thigh. He nods for you to sit back on his bed. He kneels down in front of you, hearing you swallow hard at his close proximity. He bites at his lip in concentration, unwrapping your wounded thigh. Still fresh from where the knife had sliced through the skin and flesh. He’s gathered up everything else he needs. Some more bandage, some stuff to wrap it. He takes the wet washcloth, beginning to dab at the blood around the wound. Your bleeding was mostly stopped by now, just gently seeping through. He pats it all the way clean, lifting up an antiseptic spray. “Might burn a little.” He looks up at you.

His eyes shine in the moonlight that peeks through the window that sits high up on the wall. You nod your head. “I trust you.” You smile shyly.

The typical friendly relationship you’d had with Kyle is gone. Completely gone.

He sprays it onto your wound, being generous with it to avoid an infection. He sees you flinch, clutching at his sheets. This surely isn’t how he wanted to see it happen. He could imagine a million different reasons you’d be clutching his sheets like that. This isn’t one of them. He swallows hard, bandaging it up and wrapping it up once more. His fingertips brush against your inner thigh and he feels you shiver under his touch. “Sorry.” He blushes, looking down. “It’s okay.” You breathe. “Thank you, Kyle.” You breathe through your nose. He sits up, sitting down next to you on his bed. “Kyle hm?” He smiles. “We’re using actual names now?” He laughs.

“Seems like a more genuine thank you.” You smile. He bites at his lip, clearly nervous about something. “No problem, dove. How does your head feel.” He mumbles. “It feels okay. Doesn’t pound anymore..” you trail off. Playing with your hands nervously. “You alright?” He asks. “Yeah. Today just… scared me. That’s all.” You look down. He nods his head. Leaning into you closer. “Today scared everyone. The most anyone has been hurt in this Task Force was getting shot on our vests, it hurts but it doesn’t bleed or incapacitate us.” He trails off.

“My shirt looks good on you.” He smiles. He can see you blush, looking down. “Thanks. It’s yours after all.” You laugh. “I promise I’ll wash it and give it back.” You nod.

“No rush. I think it looks better on you anyways.” He smiles. “I don’t think that’s true. It looks pretty good on you.” You giggle. “I don’t know about that one.” He laughs. It’s low, sexy.

He rests his hand on your knee below your wound, running his fingers over your knee. He can feel chills rising on your skin underneath his touch. “Kyle?” You breathe. “Yeah honey?” He breathes. “I.. I’ve never had sex before.” You breathe. He smiles. “Hey.” He laughs. “I’m not..” he laughs. He lifts his leg up onto the bed, taking your hands in his. “I have to say this right because I want you to know.” He pauses.

“I do like you, and trust me, I would love to have sex with you. But I don’t expect you to at all. I would never pressure you into anything.” He smiles. His cologne smells amazing, and you’ve never been so close to him before. You grasp his hand that lies on your knee, bringing it up to the very top of your thigh. Above your wound. He smiles. “That’s a good girl.” He breathes. He glides his hand back and fourth over your bare skin, fingertips rubbing across the edge of your panties. He lowers his hand to your center, fingertips brushing over your clothed opening. He can feel you breathe out. Pressing ever so slightly into you, rubbing his fingers back and fourth. You tilt your head back slightly and he takes this opportunity to kiss your neck, you sigh out. The relief and warmth he makes you feel is intense and immediate. “Kyle…” you breathe. Body seeming to melt into him.

“S’alright sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He breathes. He pulls you into him, gripping your chin and turning your head to look at him. “You look so fucking stunning. So beautiful.” He sighs, pressing his lips to yours. He rests his right hand onto your left thigh, the one that isn’t injured. He’s a really good kisser and when he pulls away, you still have your eyes shut. He can’t help but smile. Your breathing has picked up slightly. He rubs his nose over yours, you can feel his warm breath on your face. “You can stop me.” He breathes. Resting his massive hand on your thigh, toying with the shirt you’ve got on. You shake your head. Your eyes clench shut. “I don’t want you to- I don’t want to stop.” You breathe. He leans into you, kissing you again. He pushes you back slightly, lifting himself up. He opens your legs, avoiding your wound as he pushes himself between them. Laying you back, lips moving with yours in sync. His jeans sit low on his hips. He presses himself right into your pelvis, you can feel how hard he is against you. You moan gently into his lips, and he tugs at your bottom lip with his teeth.

Kyle has never been so turned on in his entire fucking life, he’ll swear by it. You’re so fucking beautiful, and the way you look in his clothes. It’s everything.

He rocks his hips into yours, feeling you wrap your legs around his lower back. “Fuck sweetheart. Driving me fucking crazy.” He pants. He sits up slightly. He can see your panties have a wet patch of your arousal. He knows you want him just as bad as he wants you, and that fuels a fire inside of him so big that an ocean wouldn’t be able to put it out. He rests his fingertips at the top of your slit, rubbing gently through the cotton fabric of your panties. Gentle circles just right, right where you need him. Hearing you whine. The way your lips part in surprise. The small sounds you’re making. It’s nearly too much. You’re overwhelming him already and he’s barely touched you.

He works at his pants, getting them off as quickly as he can, his vest and shirt following after. He toys with the buttons on the shirt he’s let you borrow. Tugging them open so that he can get a good look at your bare chest. So pretty, just like every part of you. He takes his time with you. Hands cupping your breasts and massaging them, feeling your relax into him. He leans down, kissing your skin, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, hearing you gasp. You try to be quiet.

He moves lower and lower. Fingers sliding into the hem of your panties. He tugs your panties down, avoiding your bandage. You’re shy, closing your legs slightly as he pulls them off. “Nothing to be nervous about. I’m gonna take good care of you.” He breathes. He can see the redness on your cheeks. He spreads your legs gently. His touch feels like gentle brushes. His breath hitched in his throat when he sees you, so bare for him. He inches closer, the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance. You shiver at the feeling of it. Eyes slightly going wide when you see the size of him.

You swallow hard and he smiles. “It’s alright. I’ll be gentle.” He breathes. “You can always stop me.”

You nod your head. You’re not going to stop him. He circles your clit with his index finger, collected your arousal on his finger. Feeling you going tense beneath him. He can tell he’s working you up. “S’alright darling. Try n relax for me, yeah?” He breathes. His accented voice sends chills up your spine. He rests more of his body weight on you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He’s going to muffle your sounds. He pushes his index finger into you, hearing you gasp. He starts slow, not wanting to push you. His finger fucking into your wet hole. You clutch the edges of the shirt you’ve got on. Knuckles going white. He pulls back, sitting up onto his knees. “Feel good?” He asks. You nod your head eagerly, moving your hips down into him slightly. He can’t help but smile.

He slides it out of you, hearing your whine in protest. He collects more of your arousal with his middle finger, pushing both of them into you. Your thighs shiver slightly, your eyes shutting. “O-oh fuck Kyle.” You mewl. The way you say his name has his cock jumping slightly. He’s so turned on. He scissors you open, thumb rubbing against your clit. You’re so soft, and wet. You’re driving him crazy. Right when you’re on the edge, he pulls away. Hearing a frustrated whine leave your lips. He can’t help but chuckle. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it up to you.” He smiles. Seeing your cheeks redden. He inches closer, the tip of his cock drawing over the expanse of your pussy. Gathering your arousal at the tip. He moves himself between you, pushing your legs up slightly. He spits right on the opening of your pussy, sliding his cock up the cavern. Once his cock is lubed up enough, he nudges the tip right at the entrance. Watching his tip disappear between them. You sigh.

He inches deeper, pushing your hips into his bed. “It’s gonna hurt baby. Just try to stay relaxed for me.” He mutters. Seeing you nod your head. “I’m okay. Been through worse.” You smile.

When he starts to hurt you, you reach your hand down. Pressing down onto the wound on your leg. The pain spikes up on it, drawing the pain away from Kyle’s cock stretching you out for the first time. When he bottoms out, his mouth falls open. You finally draw your hand back from the wound on your thigh. The worst of it is over now. You can’t help the tears that gather in your eyes. “F-fuck. I feel so full.” You whine, lifting your hips slightly. “Yeah baby. So full of me.” He gasps. He can’t contain the way he feels. He doesn’t want to. “Oh fuck.” he whines. Burying his face into your neck again. He draws his hips back, thrusting back inside of you. You stiffen underneath him. Wrapping your arms around him. Your eyes get heavy, you can’t keep them open. Shutting them tight as he starts to fuck you, he pulls his cock almost all of the way out of you before thrusting back in. He’s got a steady rhythm. Feeling you shiver. “Feels so good Kyle, so good.” You whine. “Yeah baby. I know. Got me so close already. Fuck.” He grits his teeth.

“Look at me.” He breathes, tilting your chin up to look at him. “You okay?” He asks. You nod your head, struggling to keep your eyes open. “Keep looking at me sweetheart. Wanna see your pretty face when you cum.” He breathes. You shiver at his touch. It’s unbelievable how fast this happened, how fast you have right into him. “Kyle.” You wince. “M’I hurting you?” He pauses immediately. “No. Don’t stop.” You breathe. He pushes your legs up, spitting on the base of his cock to make sure he’s not going to hurt you. “Thank you.” You breathe, looking up at him. The moonlight shines perfect on your eyes. “What?”

“For taking care of me. For reassuring me. And for staying with me earlier when I was h-hurt.” You hiccup. Your teeth are gritted. He keeps the same steady pace, he’s a perfect fit for you, his cock slipping between your walls perfectly. He laughs slightly. “I got you.” He breathes. “Nothing to worry about now. I have you, I always will. Just try to relax for me.” He breathes. “Keep looking at me.”

Your eyes snap up to his. Chills rising on your skin. You’re right there, right on the edge. It’s intense, the unfamiliar build of an orgasm. Kyle is fighting off his own orgasm. He hisses when you claw down his back. The burn has his brain spinning. He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out before he finishes. He leans down to kiss you again. It’s sloppy and wet but desperate. He raises himself up slightly, rocking himself into you at a slightly different angle and that’s when you lose it. He forces you to look at him, your eyes getting heavy. He clamps a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. Body shaking and convulsing as you reach your orgasm. You clamp down around him, walls throbbing with your orgasm. The coil that’s wound up in Kyle’s is about to snap. His body shivers and he bites down onto his lip. Just a couple more thrusts and he’s growling out, eyes rolling back into his head. “Oh fuck-“ he whimpers. He relaxes into you. Avoiding your wound as he slides out of you, moving himself next to you.

Right there he knows he’s gone. You look more beautiful than ever. Face flushed, his shirt half buttoned up. Skin sweaty and flushed too. Full of his cum. It’s a good look for you. He laughs after a few minutes of silence and you can’t help but laugh too. “That escalated quickly, ah?” He laughs. “Yeah, yeah it did.” You let out a breath of relief. He moves to rest his arm on you. “Hope I didn’t hurt you too bad.” He breathes. “No, I’m good. Really good.” You blush. He pulls you into him, “you look really good too.” He smirks. Seeing you roll your eyes.

“We should make this a thing.” He sits up slightly. “What?”

“I mean.. I’m not doing anything next weekend.” He smiles. “Are you asking me on a date, Garrick?”

“Yeah. Yeah I am.”

“Of course, I’d love that.” You smile.

“Great. It’s a date. Now get some rest. You’ve got some healing to do.” He smiles.

#gaz smut #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz mw2 #kyle garrick #gaz cod #call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #soap mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut

302 notes · View notes