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princessmisery666 · 23 days ago

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The Full Seresin Service - Part 2 of 3

Series Summary: You and Jake have been dancing around each other for a while. The Dagger Squad set it up so that the dancing stops, but a case of miscommunication could ruin it all.

Summary: The rules are set, the deal is made, and the Full Seresin Service begins. Nothing could possibly go wrong. Right?

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: Fluff, flirting, teasing, smut, miscommunication.

W/C: 5.2k

Characters: Unnamed female reader (you/she/her), Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace, Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado.

Pairing: Hangman x Female Reader. Phoenix x Coyote.

Notes: Reader has a call sign.

Beta(s): @deanwinchesterswitch - thanks for saving the smut section 😄 // all mistakes are mine. Special shoutout to @writercole

Graphics: made by me on Canva.

Master Lists: Series // Top Gun Maverick // Main

I do not give consent for this or any other of my works to be reposted/reworked or translated on to any other account or platform.

You take your bottle of wine and a glass to the room. Your credit card will not thank you, but you don't care right now. You need to drown your sordid thoughts of Jake dropping that fluffy white towel and showing you what’s beneath it.

While juggling the bottle, a glass, your phone, and book, you manage to slip the keycard in and elbow the door handle down, using your butt to open the door and shuffle into the room.

“Oh crap,” Jake grumbles.

He grabs his T-shirt from the end of the bed, but it's too late. You’ve seen it all, and it doesn’t help that he cups himself, the fabric of the shirt perfectly shapes his cock. He has to be doing it on purpose.

“Sorry,” you say, but don't bother turning around now that he’s partly covered up.

“What are you doing back here?” It’s more of an accusation than a question. “I saw you in the bar.”

“I didn’t feel like reading after all,” you say, walking further into the room and placing the bottle on the nightstand. “What are you doing back here?”

“I lost concentration too,” he says, “came back to change, was gonna work up a sweat in the gym.”

“You brought gym gear?”

“Like you didn’t.”

Urgh. You hate that he knows that you did. You never planned to do a full workout. After all, you're on vacation, but you’d have done some light cardio at least.

You backtrack, annoyed at yourself that you're predictable or that he knows you're better than you like. “And I didn’t say I lost concentration. I’m not that easily swayed.”

He snorts a chuckle, “Could’ve fooled me.” His cocky smirk spreads wide. “You can’t keep your eyes on my face.”

Of course, your eyes betray you, drifting down to his crotch and back up again. “Well, that’s because I’m not blind, and I saw everything and can still see it ‘cause you're holding it like a…a…dick.” You realize your mistake and quickly try to correct it. “I don’t mean a dick like a cock. I mean, you’re a dick!”

Jake laughs, an actual stomach laugh, and you do not take to being laughed at lightly. You grab a pillow from the bed and launch it at him. Naturally, Jake, being Jake, catches it with one hand and replaces the tee with the pillow.

“Better?” he asks smugly. “Now you can’t see it.”

“Whatever,” you sneer.

“That’s not a yes.”

“Jake,” you scold. “You promised you wouldn’t annoy me. And you’ve already annoyed me by letting Javy and Natasha set this whole thing up, so just stop, please.”

“Wait? Set what up?”

“Don’t play dumb ‘cause I know you’re not.”

“Pretend I am.”

“The whole fuckin’ dagger squad set it up so we’d team up and win to send us here to…” Your arms flail around, searching for the word, but it doesn’t help, and you drop them, defeated. “I don’t even know what.”

Geez. You hate how flustered he makes you. When you are face to face and not in a cockpit, you always have to be careful about what you say. You're always conscious of how he can misconstrue something or turn it into innuendo.

“Cosmo, I swear I didn’t know anything about that.” he pleads for you to believe him. “Coyote gave me the ice cream clue, but honestly, at the time, I thought he was playing me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you say softly. “We’re here now, so can we just do what we said we’d do and stay out of each other’s way.”

“I will, I promise,” he states. “But I really need you to know I had no hand in setting this up. Us teaming up or winning, or you walking in here and seeing me naked ‘cause that’s disgusting, creep-level shit, and I swear it’s purely coincidence. Coyote texted me about you, and I needed an outlet, so I was going to work out, I swear.”

“Fuck,” you huff, “Coyote and Phoenix strike again. She texted me, and I needed to stop thinking about it, so I came back here to drink away my…”

“Feelings.”

“Thoughts.” You correct with an incredulous look. “I don’t have feelings for or about you, Hangman.”

“That’s bullshit,” he states. “You avoid being alone with me ‘cause you don’t trust yourself.”

Shit. He really does know you better than you thought. But you're saved by the bell, or rather the knock on the door. You walk to answer it and hear Jake moving around. You hope he’s dressing to go to the gym.

You take the ice bucket from the concierge and thank him before closing the door. So as not to get another peek at Jake, you keep your head down as you make your way back to the wine on the nightstand. You pour a glass and put the bottle in the ice. If Jake weren’t there, you’d probably swig from the bottle. You need to be done with the conversation and Jake.

“I’ll leave you alone,” he says sincerely. “If you answer me one thing.”

You gulp half a glass of wine and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “What?”

“Why are you resisting this?”

“Honestly,” you sigh, turning to face him. He’s pulled on a pair of boxer briefs but nothing else. It makes it slightly easier to talk to him. “I’m not a true member of the Dagger squad. You all have this deep bond I’ll never be a part of. I had to earn my place, and sometimes, I’m still an outsider.”

“That’s not true,” Jake argues. “You’re one of us. None of us ever think otherwise.”

“Maybe,” you shrug with a half smile. “But you have a reputation, Hangman. You’re not exactly the stable relationship kind of guy. A couple of weeks with someone is the most you can manage. I know if I gave in to you, you’d get a ‘atta boy’ and proud slaps on the back, but me, I’d lose the respect of our friends.”

“You mean the friends who set this up?” he asks.

He has a point, and he knows it too. You're silent for too long, and he slowly makes his way around the bed to stand in front of you. “You want this as much as I do. We make a good team. Scrap that. We’re the best team in the air. I wanna know if that translates to the ground, too. There’s something between us that each of us is trying to ignore and clearly failing miserably.”

You laugh lightly because he’s right. “There’s nothing but lust between us, Jake,” you counter. “We want what we can’t have, the low-hanging forbidden fruit.”

“Ouch,” he laughs.

“Don’t pretend you're not an easy lay,” you jest.

The dig of his promiscuity doesn’t deter him. He steps closer, his eyes soft and his tone sincere. “Give me a chance,” he suggests. “A weekend pass. We’ll keep it between you and me. We’ll eat the forbidden fruit, and it’ll be our secret.” he winks. “No one has to know.”

He’s right. Again. No one would need to know, and they’d have no way of finding out. Sure, Hangman could be a douche and tell them, but what proof would he have?

He’s already wearing you down, so there’s no need for the extra, “I promise I’ll make it the best weekend of your life. No-holds-barred. Full Jake Seresin service,” but it’s nice to know he’s committed.

“You know I’m seeing someone. Klay, remember him?”

“Please, that fizzled out a week ago for you,” he jeers. “You’ve seen him a total of three times in the last five weeks. Two of those were drinks at the Hard Deck, and I gave you a ride home. If I know you as well as I think I do, you’ve got a text saved in your notes telling him you don’t want to see him again. You're just waiting for the right time.”

You really need to put some distance between your personal and professional life.

“I have two conditions,” you say.

He nods, smile already morphing to an air of smugness. “Anything.”

“Whatever does or does not happen, we remain professional. It doesn’t affect our work.”

“Done.”

“No one knows anything,” you say sternly. “They can guess and speculate, but nothing is ever confirmed.”

“Done.” he holds his hand out for you to shake, but you have other ideas. Stepping into his personal space, you deliver a gentle kiss to his lips.

His reaction is immediate. It’s a flurry of caressing, groping, and clothing being removed. A hand cradles the back of your head, and the other finds purchase on your hip. The press of his flesh against yours is electric, and you shiver as his tongue sweeps over your bottom lip.

Jake moans as you open up to him, deepening the kiss. His hand slips to your ass cheek as he slowly shuffles you both toward the bed, pink lips now suckling on your neck. You laugh as you both tumble onto the mattress when he misjudges the distance. He’s quick to follow as you shuffle toward the headboard, his mouth latching onto a breast, and his tongue swirls over the taut nipple.

“F- fuck,” you whimper as you arch into him.

Sharp teeth gently graze the nub, and he mumbles, “You have beautiful tits,” as he shifts to suck the neglected nipple into the damp heat of his mouth. Jake’s hands rest on your hips as he knees closer between your legs. A hand replaces his mouth, kneading your breast as he sits up. “I’ve wanted you like this for a long time.”

“Well, now that you’ve got me, what’s your plan?” you snark, eyes mere slits as you stare up at his pretty face. The smirk you typically want to smack from his smug features is now inexplicably sexy as he pops a brow.

“Well, I was thinking maybe a little begging…”

The hard pinch to your pebbled bud contrasts with the soft brush of fingers up your thigh, and your walls clench as goosebumps race across your flesh.

“Maybe a little screaming.” Jake leans forward and presses a hand into the pillow next to your head as the other splays over your stomach, thumb lightly brushing your clit.

You tilt your hips, seeking friction, and he chuckles, shifting his hand up and away from where you need him. Refusing to give him what he wants so easily, you bite your lip to keep the plea locked away.

“Now, now, none of that. I want to hear you.” Jake nips at your bottom lip, pulling it from between your teeth. At the same time, he slips two fingers into your already slick heat, causing you to jerk and moan loudly. “There we go.”

Not wanting to give him the upper hand – you silently chuckle at the unintentional pun – you reach down and encircle his dick with a gentle squeeze.

The steady pump of his fingers falters as he growls, “Shit!” But he grasps your wrist to halt any movement on your part. “Nope. Not yet.”

“Jake,” you whine, dragging out his name. “That’s not fair.”

“I haven’t heard any begging yet.” The pressure of his grip increases, and he pulls his fingers from inside you, slowly licking each one clean as he stares you down.

You hate to admit how easily he got you worked up, but your body betrays you. You’re right on the precipice, and you want him to send you over the edge in the best way. Loosening your hold on his throbbing dick, you whimper, “Please…”

“What was that?” He releases your wrist, capturing your hand and entwining your fingers as he pushes them into the pillow above your head. “Do you need something?”

The smug smile is back, and you have reverted to wanting to slap it off his face, but instead, you give in and plead, “Please… please… I want you to make me come,” while plotting your revenge.

“That’s better.”

He squeezes your hand and swiftly pushes his fingers back inside you as his thumb circles your clit.

Jake is as adept with his hands in the bedroom as he is in the cockpit of a fighter jet. Within moments, you’re screaming his name, your free hand gripping the back of his neck, your inner muscles contracting tightly around the fingers pressed against that sweet spot.

“Damn,” Jake groans, “that’s so hot. But we’re just getting started.”

Jake struts into the bathroom and presses himself to your back, resting his chin on your shoulder. He smiles at your reflection in the mirror while you set your toiletries out on the countertop. He lived up to his reputation, and after a few rounds of him making you come with his tongue, fingers, and cock you decide to shower to give you both some time to recover.

“You're getting all clean just for me to make you dirty again,” Jake smirks, kissing your shoulder and scrapping it away with his teeth.

“You can get me as dirty as you like,” you say, “but I need to shower.”

“Seems like a waste, but okay.” he shrugs and holds up the room service menu. “Do you want more wine or water?”

“Both,” you chuckle, “we’re gonna need to hydrate.”

“Copy that,” he says before smacking your ass and walking back into the room to put the order in.

You overindulge in the shower because the water pressure is impressive, and the waterfall showerhead is calming. You also need a minute, or ten, to get yourself in check. The sex is phenomenal, but Jake has surprised you. Shockingly, he’s respectful, attentive, and not as selfish as you expected. He constantly checked in to make sure you were okay, and that you liked what he was doing, and though he rarely needed it, he asked for direction.

You recognize this is dangerous ground to be walking on, but it’s only a weekend, two nights of surrendering to your desires, and then it’s over. You can do this.

There’s little point in dressing again. Jake is sure to have you naked and moaning again soon enough, so once you’ve showered, you opt for a t-shirt and clean underwear - you need to be somewhat presentable when room service arrives.

You're pulling the garment over your head as you leave the bathroom, but you freeze as soon as your head is free.

Jake is standing beside the prepared table, wearing nothing but a smile and a white towel slung over his arm. The dimmed lights and the candles dotted around the room create dancing shadows on the walls. The table is set for two - silver serving trays with large round lids hiding the delicious-smelling delights beneath them, and a bottle of wine is cooling in the ice bucket. A single rose in a slim vase adorns the center of the table, with a small gift-wrapped box set in front of it.

“Jake,” you gasp, unable to hide the shock.

His smile is full of charm and pride at the reaction. “I told you,” he says, walking closer, “full Seresin service.”

“I’m getting more naked butler vibes,” you jest, accepting his offered hand and letting him lead you to the table.

He laughs, pulling out your chair, “Same thing.” Quickly, he rushes around to his side, picking up the gift and handing it to you as he sits down. “I swear I picked this up before the whole setup and sex thing. It‘s meant as a thank you for letting me join you.”

Intrigue has you ripping off the fancy bow and paper with perhaps too much enthusiasm. It’s a bottle of your favorite perfume, thoughtful, expensive, and unexpected.

“You said it was your favorite back at the store,” Jake explains.

“Thank you.”

It’s a lovely gesture, and though you don’t want to think about it, you can’t help but wonder how many women have been charmed by the Full Seresin Service. He clearly knows what you want, the romance of it all, but come Monday morning, this will all be a distant memory.

The following day is a blur of sex. Jake doesn’t hold back, and you each teach the other a thing or two. He takes a shower around four and has some kind of epiphany while seemingly enjoying the fancy shower because he exits with a wide grin and a burst of enthusiasm.

“Do what you need to get ready for a fancy event,” he says.

“What?” you question, watching him pull on sweats. “I didn’t pack anything to wear to a fancy event, Jake.”

“Trust me,” he says, sitting on the chair and slipping his sneakers on. “Take a shower, do your make-up, leave the rest to me.”

“Where’re you going?”

He grabs his wallet and phone, swipes the room key from the top of the dresser, and gives you a swift kiss. “Trust me,” he says again, leaning back to look at you. “I won’t be long, you’ve got an hour.”

He’s true to his word, and less than an hour later, he returns carrying three shopping bags and a proud smile.

You’ve applied light make-up and styled your hair, “You look good.” Jake compliments. “Here,” he hands you the largest bag and one of the smaller ones. “Take them in the bathroom, but don’t come out until I tell you.”

He’s far too excited, but you don’t protest his instructions, intrigued by what the big surprise is.

In the bathroom, you pull the garment out of the bag - a long, bronze, cowl-neck chiffon dress. It’s beautiful and undoubtedly expensive because he’s already removed the tags. There are strappy heels to match in the other bag.

You slip the dress on over your head, careful not to touch your hair, and it instantly makes you feel sexy. The fabric is soft, and the color looks good on you.

“Ready when you are,” Jake calls.

After putting the shoes on, you take a few extra moments to check your reflection, twisting left and right. It’s not the kind of dress you can wear underwear with, and you shuffle your panties off. Now, the gesture of the dress makes a little more sense. You assume there’s something in it for Jake, too.

Jake gasps as soon as you step out. “Wow.” his mouth remains in the O shape while you twirl for him. “Damn, you look… wow.”

You look him up and down - black suit pants, formal shoes, his shirt and jacket are the same bronze color as your dress. He looks edible, but before the drool can escape your mouth, he’s in your space.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in close to him. He nips your ear. “Maybe we forget the rest of the plan, and I’ll just fuck you in this dress instead.”

“I mean, that is the deal,” you laugh, scrapping your nails down the nape of his neck, “but I’m intrigued about the rest of the plan.”

“Come on,” he grins, taking your hand and leading you out of the room.

The room is filled with joy. Everyone is smiling and happy, people chatting and dancing, eating the canapes being served by the wait staff. Jake feels giddy. He has no other word for it and brushes it off as the atmosphere in the room, but he knows better. It’s you, or rather the two of you.

It feels right. Like the last puzzle piece falling into place after months of trying to figure out the complex picture.

Jake senses you’re nervous, eyes darting around the room, sipping your drink too often. “Relax,” he says, placing a reassuring hand on the small of your back.

“How can I?” you ask, “we’re gate crashing a wedding.”

“Act like you belong,” he advises, “We look like we belong. Stop worrying.” He catches a server as they pass, grabs two fresh glasses of champagne from the tray, and hands you one. “To the bride and groom.”

“Whoever they are,” you toast.

Jake keeps his hand on the small of your back as you each watch the celebration for a while. It’s not only to assure you he’s there but also to make sure anyone looking, and he’s seen a few men looking, knows that you're with him.

“So, Jake,” you start, wistful and light as you turn your back to the room and focus on him. “Is this your end goal? Marriage? Kids? The whole nine yards?”

“Definitely,” he nods, “someday.”

You can’t hide your expression, even though you try by taking a delicate sip of your drink.

He cocks his brow. “Why does that shock you?”

“It doesn’t, not really. You're a family guy. I’ve seen that on family days and heard you call your sister, but” you grimace around in an apologetic tone, “you don’t exactly pick the settling-down types.”

“Ha,” he laughs. “Okay, that’s fair.” He sobers a little, mind reeling at the list of exes he knows you're aware of to have made that conclusion.

“You tend to go for the jealous, insecure, toxic type,” you explain. “And that’s not to say you’re not as toxic sometimes, but there’s a pattern.”

He scoffs in offense. “Wait a second, when have I been the toxic one?”

“Laura.” You say without hesitation. “You let her believe you and me were screwing because you wanted to break up with her.”

“No, no, no,” Jake corrects, “you got that all wrong. I did break up with her and she assumed it was because of you. That’s not my fault.”

“Did you explicitly tell her we weren’t sleeping together?”

He shrugs, laughing around the rim of his glass. “No, ‘cause I was too busy trying to sleep with you.”

You shake your head, rolling your eyes. “And Nicole?”

“Okay, yeah, she was just a crazy person.”

“I know!” you remember. “She threw a bottle at me in the Hard Deck. If it weren't for Nat’s cat-like reflexes, I’d have a scar right now.”

“That was some kung-fu master shit she pulled. I think that’s what made Coyote fall for her.”

“Don’t change the subject, Lieutenant,” you say. “What about Kate? I had to pretend to be your pregnant wife to get her to leave you alone.”

“Point made, toxic, jealous, and insecure.” he agrees. “I guess I’m not ready to settle down yet, so I keep making bad decisions.”

“Well, what’s one more?” you wink.

His heart skips, and he feels a little sick. You’re not a bad decision. In fact, you're probably the only good decision, women-wise, he’s made since he was a teenager.

You're the take-back-home type of girl. The kind of woman he’d proudly introduce to his family. Though the predecessors who had the privilege didn’t work out, he feels if it were to end the same with you, you’d forever be the ex that his family continued to invite to family functions, and his mom would sigh and tell him he’d lost a good one every time she saw you.

“You are not jealous, insecure, or toxic, Cosmo,” Jake says.

“Exactly,” you laugh. “So clearly not your type.”

He doesn’t correct you, even though you are absolutely wrong. “What about you?” Jake asks. “You want the whole nine yards?”

“I guess, with the right guy.” You finish your drink and put the empty glass on the table. “Okay, if we’re doing this,” you say, “let's do it right. Mr Seresin, may I have this dance?”

He accepts your offered hand and leads you to the dance floor. A few people give you odd looks, trying to place who you are, but it’s easily ignored.

Jake’s raging boner after one and a half slow songs and perhaps too much winding and grinding for a public place is not so easily ignored. “Let’s get out of here,” you whisper, and he gladly takes you back to the room.

The sex after the wedding was mind-blowing. Jake doesn’t know how, but every time, it gets better. He feels the butterflies in his stomach every time you touch him, casual touches, a brush of his hand, a lazy sleep-hazed kiss.

It’s Sunday afternoon, the last night, and Jake knows without a doubt that he’s not ready to let this go. It’s not just about the sex, which is fucking - excuse the pun - amazing, but it’s the intimacy of it all too.

You're different. In the confines of the hotel room, you're freer, shameless, and adventurous, revealing secrets that only make him want you more. The pillow talk is deep and meaningful and, at other times, fun and light. Both make him want to talk to you as much as fuck you.

He lies on the bed, watching you pack your suitcase. The items you won’t need in the morning. “Urgh,” you groan, “I hate packing.”

“Me too.”

“I wish I was that last-minute kinda person,” you say, folding a clean t-shirt and placing it neatly in the suitcase. You haven’t had much use for the clothes you packed.

Jake cocks his brow at you in the mirror, “You are wasting precious fuckin’ time.”

“I know,” you say with an apologetic grimace. “The weekend pass expires at midnight. But I can’t not do this.”

He laughs lightly, shuffling off the bed, and saunters over, slipping his arms around your waist while you organize your things. “Worth the price of admission?”

“Absolutely.” You smirk at his reflection in the mirror. “Ten out of ten. Would highly recommend.”

“Repeat customer?” he asks, sucking in a breath and holding it while he waits for your answer. He can laugh it off as a joke if the reply is negative, but he hopes it’s positive.

“I’ll leave the money on the dresser,” you squirm out of his embrace, turning to kiss his lips quickly. “Gigolo Jake.”

“I’ve been called worse,” he admits, delivering a harder kiss to your cheek. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

The shower is running, but he’s not under the spray. Instead, he’s naked, sitting on the cold closed toilet lid, texting Coyote.

He’s breaking the rules. He knows he is, but he needs to talk it through with someone because what he’s feeling is new and confusing.

<Hangman: I need you to promise me this stays between us. Not even Phoenix can know.

>Coyote: What’d you do now bro?

<Hangman: Promise me.

>Coyote: Promise.

<Hangman: I slept with her.

>Coyote: So?

<Hangman: Repeatedly.

>Coyote: I’m confused. Was it bad or something?

<Hangman: No. It was…

He struggles to find the word, and his cock twitches while his memory replays the last twenty-four hours.

<Hangman: Phenomenal. I wanna do it again and again and again.

>Coyote: 🤣🤣🤣. Sorry to tell you but that’s what happens when you like someone Jake. You go back for more.

<Hangman: Not me.

>Coyote: Except now you feelin’ some type of way and you’re freaking out.

<Hangman: YES! What the hell man?! It was supposed to be a one-and-done!

>Coyote: Man, I'm the wrong person to ask. I never meant for Nat and me to be a thing but now I can’t imagine not being with her.

<Hangman: Not helping.

>Coyote: Sorry bro. It is what it is now. Embrace it.

<Hangman: Embrace it how?

>Coyote: You could start by telling her you actually like her. Do some of that Seresin Speciality romance stuff.

<Hangman: She has a tattoo low on her hip, a fighter jet in the night sky. I swear there’s a H in the stars. I can’t stop looking at it. It’s like it’s meant to be.

>Coyote: Wow, you sound like you’re way below the hard deck.

He’s not wrong. Jake’s flying below a level that isn’t safe, and he can either pull the ejection handle or do some pilot shit and finish the mission.

>Coyote: Phoenix says she’s all for grand gestures and actions speaking louder than words.

<Hangman: 🙄way to keep a promise.

>Coyote: She can read too dude. Sorry.

<Hangman: I forgot you have your text size big enough to read from the moon.

>Phoenix: 🤣 He does! Now quit stalling. Go tell Cosmo you like her.

<Hangman: I might have an idea or two for a grand gesture. Thanks for the tip.

>Coyote: Hey I’m not straining my eyes and having to wear glasses and not being able to fly.

It probably would have been easier to start a group chat.

Jake decides not to reply. He’s wasting water. Setting his phone on the countertop, he steps into the shower.

He’s not ready to say goodbye to the weekend and go back to reality, and grand gestures should happen somewhere nice and memorable. He needs to set things in motion.

“Cosmo,” he calls out.

“Yeah,” you yell back.

He doesn’t want to scream it at you, so he asks, “Come here, will ya?” while he lathers his hair with shampoo.

He sticks his head out of the shower as you enter the bathroom. You chuckle, smiling as you swipe soap suds off his brow before they trickle into his eye. It’s a sweet and delicate touch, but it sends his heart racing.

He clears his throat. “You’re not scheduled to work till Friday, right?” he asks, though it’s unnecessary because he’s always aware of your schedule.

“Yeah,” you sigh. The reminder brings a touch of reality to the room.

He feels a wave of nerves but ignores them, hearing Coyote’s voice in his head, ‘Embrace it.’ “How about we stay a couple more nights? I’ll upgrade you to the Premium Seresin Package.”

You chuckle and look a little sheepish when you reply. “Um….yeah, okay. But the same rules apply.”

“Yeah, obviously. I wouldn’t want…”

His phone chiming interrupts, and simultaneously, you both look at the message preview.

>Coyote: Go chase that flying jet and make her see stars…

“Really?!” you scoff. “Couldn’t even make it back to base before you go shooting your mouth off! What happened to ‘no one has to know’?”

“Cosmo, wait,” he calls as you leave, slamming the door. As quickly as he can, he rinses the shampoo from his hair. “Shit!” There is no towel hanging up, and he has no choice but to exit naked and dripping wet.

You shove your feet into your sneakers, carry-on slung over your shoulder, suitcase zipped and ready to go. “I can’t believe I fell for your bullshit!”

“It wasn’t bullshit,” Jake says, grabbing your wrist to try and get you to slow down.

“Don’t touch me.” You snatch your arm away. “I can’t believe I trusted you, Hangman. I should’ve known you’d hang me out to dry, too!” You sneer, and the disgust in your expression breaks him a little.

He ignores the jab of hurt that stabs through him, trying again. “Cosmo, I swear it’s not what you think.”

You grab your suitcase handle and march toward the door, but Jake is closer, and he steps in your path.

He pleads, “Please let me explain.”

“Move.”

He doesn’t, and instead of asking again, you shove into his shoulder and drag your suitcase behind you. The wheels hit his toes. “Fuck!” he yells, hopping around on one leg, clutching his injured foot before falling onto the bed. “Don’t leave, please, Cosmo.”

But it’s too late. You're out the door and gone.

Part 3 - Didn't Know Then What I Know Now

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/ @justagirlinafandomworld / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @shanimallina87 / @wildbornsiren /

@writercole / @xoxabs88xox / @dempy / @atarmychick007 / @genius2025

@kmc1989 / @alipap3 / @emorychase

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #fic #tgm #fluff #tgm fic #top gun maverick fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #coyote #phoenix

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hyuburt · 2 years ago

Photo

I think Fantasy High would look good animated in the total drama style since they’re both chalk full of chaotic sweaty teenage energy. Here are the bad kids on their first day of school

[ID: Two images of the same lineup of characters, with the top one being the colored version and the lower one being the line art. They depict the six main characters from D20′s Fantasy High from tallest to smallest; Gorgug, Fabian, Kristen, Adaine, Fig, and Riz. They are all drawn and colored mostly in line with canon, with some slight variations to accommodate the total drama style. Gorgug’s eyes were stylized into two white dots with slight bags underneath, and he is standing upright with his hands nervously brought up to his chest with a slightly timid expression on his face. His hoodie is a slightly de-saturated purple with grey sweatpants and purple sneakers. He has dark green skin and black wavy hair that falls above one eye. His wobbly, down-turned mouth has a tusk poking out of the higher side (he normally has two, it’s just the way his expression was drawn made it so only one was visible.) His face shape and nose are rounded to give him a softer appearance and there are two little lines indicating the beginning of teenage stubble on his chin. Next to him on the right is Fabian, who stands with his arms crossed and his head turned haughtily to the right, a smug expression on his face. He is wearing his red owlbear jacket with white sleeves, greyish brown loose workout pants, a black undershirt, and red sneakers. He has brown skin and swept back white hair that is shaved on the sides. His nose slopes downwards and he has two eyelashes under both eyes to denote that he is a fancy, pretty boy. He is drawn with a strong, square jawline and a build that is both muscular yet nimble.To his right is Kristen who has a stocky, more rounded build and is wearing a rainbow tie dye shirt with a simplified corn logo in the center, denim shorts, green flip flops, and a rainbow bracelet. She has curly orange hair that curls around her round face, light tan skin with freckles, bushy orange eyebrows, an upturned nose, and dark green eyes that are upturned in a smile. To her right is Adaine, who is slouched slightly with her arms crossed and an unhappy expression on her face as she looks off to the ground. She is wearing blue circular glasses over her round blue eyes, her blue two-piece hudol uniform, knee-high grey socks, and black mary jane shoes. She has light brown skin and short, straight blonde hair swept back from the front of her face in a widow’s peak. She has a small, pointy nose and a circular face with a small pointy chin. Above her is a version of her face without her glasses. To her right is Fig, who is standing proudly with one hand on her hip and the other in a finger gun. She has light reddish skin and brown hair in a braid that has a bright purple streak in her bands and at the end of her braid like it was dipped in paint. She has a long, pointy face and a slightly hooked nose. Her eyes are a dark pomegranate color and slightly upturned. She is wearing purple lipstick, a short leather jacket with a cropped grey shirt underneath it that has a picture of a horned skull on it, a black choker, fingerless gloves on both hands, a plaid skirt and belt with black leggings underneath, dark brown boots, and a single fishnet coming up to her calf on her right leg. To her right is Riz, who is holding a magnifying glass up to his face with one eye squinted to see through it and his other hand on his hip. A single fang peeks through the corner of his small smile. He has a green tail that swishes in front of him. He is wearing his signature brown cap and two piece suit with mauve pants, vest, and tie. His skin is light green with freckles under his eyes, his eyes are light greenish-yellow with slits for pupils, and his hair is dark green and swept back under his cap. Above him is a version of his head without his cap, showing that his hair is swept back from the front and curls away from his face, giving him a windswept appearance.]

#my art #d20 #dimension 20 #fantasy high #gorgug thistlespring #fabian seacaster #kristen applebees #adaine abernant #fig faeth #riz gukgak #the bad kids #total drama #td fantasy high #note: gorgug has two tusks it's just that his expression makes it so only one is visble at the time #total drama high

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 7 months ago

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Dad's Best Friend - Jake Seresin Masterlist

this is a masterlist with all my dbf!jake x reader works. yes, this was necessary lmao. they piled up and because they kind of all play in the same universe, i wanted them on a seperate list

top gun masterlist | top gun blurbs

⭑ is for allusions to smut † is for actual smut ▸ is for a little bit of angst the rest is just pure fluff!!

Oneshots

† Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven - Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he's actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father's new best friend, Jake Seresin.

† What Happens in Cars, Stays in Cars - After a month-long deployment, Jake is finally coming back home. Well, not home home. You're too desperate to wait until you've actually got him home. But who needs home when there's a perfectly good car anyway?

Blurbs

Grey Streak - You spot the first grey streak in Jake's hair and somehow, that gets you going.

Let Me Give You a Facial - Turns out, Jake likes being pampered just as much as you like pampering him.

⭑ Jealous - When a young petty officer hits on you at the bar, Jake gets a bit jealous.

† Caught (Almost) - It's really bad timing when your father walks through the back door while Jake is on his knees for you.

⭑ Innocent - You're very much ready to finally let Jake fuck you. Jake finds out he very much likes to teach you how.

⭑ Workout - Jake works out in the garage, and that's really just eye candy on a silver plate.

Aftercare - It shouldn't surprise anyone that Jake is the king of aftercare.

† Safeword - The first time you ask Jake to go harder, he proves once more that you can trust him with everything.

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #dbf!jake seresin #dbf!jake seresin x reader #top gun #top gun x reader #x reader #nav #masterlist #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin smut #hangman x reader #dbf!jake seresin smut

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readerstories · 19 days ago

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When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 5/?

Reader has a bike now ^_^ Also thought it was time to change up the gif, since it's both of them now ;3 Next chapter in a week! (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 6) (Part 7)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn

Wordcount: 1373

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

It’s been another week since your last run-in with Wade, two weeks since you met them both. An ache has settled in your upper back, flowing through the muscles any time you bend over just the smallest amount. It feels like soreness after a hard workout, but you have done no such thing, doctor’s (Evelyn) orders.

You have taken another job though, you can’t just sit around and wait for your cuts to fully heal (luckily they are healing well), you would become too restless. You need to do something.

Which leads you to where you are now.

The warehouse has three levels with a big opening in the middle to hoist up crates and goods. You were there to keep watch over a shipment of guns on the upper floor, when they had stormed in on the first floor. Wade had been yelling, what you don’t know, but the gunshots following his words leaves you no doubt that it wasn’t nice.

Because of fucking course they are a package deal even with this. Not that Logan’s claws had given you the impression that he was a demure housewife, but still. You hadn’t expected the yellow and blue suit, complete with a scowl with pointy ends on top that covers the upper half of his face. You don’t recognise him at first, but then there’s claws, and Wade jumping around in his Deadpool suit, so it’s not hard to tell it’s Logan under the yellow.

Red and yellow.

Like ketchup and mustard.

You snort to yourself.

Being able to recognise Wade’s voice even without words already should irk you, but this time it leaves you with an advantage, as you can stay back, and don’t rush into something unknown, or a situation you know you won't win.

You still haven’t made yourself known to them, preferring to watch as they utterly fuck up your job. You have to admit, they are effective as a team. Knowing when to split up, and when to draw back together. It’s not perfect, both of them absorb several gunshots, but thanks to their apparent unending healing factor they just keep going.

They end up in the middle of the first floor, with people coming at them in a seemingly never ending attack. You lean on the railing around the hole on the third floor, gun in hand, just watching. Logan slices through people with ease, claws glinting in the light even when they are soaked with blood. Wade switches between his guns and katanas, seeking out targets with precision. Their fighting styles are very different, but their legs are hard at work. Logan moves around in bursts, occasionally running on all fours, sometimes kicking when he’s in range of people so they stumble and he can easily skewer them with his claws. Wade bounces around, kicking with purpose, breaking bones, and necks when he hits perfectly. Once even strangling someone with his thighs.

Your bond hums with excitement when you pay attention to it, because of course they are having fun with this.

As much as you are enjoying the show, you are honestly just starting to think about slinking away before they notice you, but then there’s suddenly another henchman rushing in next to you, firing down as he yells at you.

“Why the fuck aren’t you doing anything?!” He hits Logan’s shoulder as he yells. This gets Logan’s attention, making him look all the way up to you. He spots the man next to you first, as he is still firing, but he now starts missing Logan as he starts moving towards a column in the corner of the opening. He spots you next, and it’s only because you’ve been watching him move without hesitation for several minutes that you see the minute stutter in his step.

Next thing you know, his claws are digging into concrete, and he’s fucking climbing the fucking column.

“You fucking idiot.” You hiss at the man next to you as you both draw back. He reloads his gun, you turn around to look for an exit.

You spot the red exit sign and door just as you hear a thud behind you. You move towards the door. There’s a scream behind you, another thud, before the warehouse falls mostly silent except from a scuffle somewhere below you.

Then Logan calls your name.

You freeze, fingers tightening around your gun. You could use it, but all you’ll likely get in return for your effort is a gun sliced in half (you had already seen Logan do that to others), and a pissed off Logan.

So you keep it down as you turn around, gaze as neutral as you can keep it as you look at him, absentmindedly noticing it’s mostly quiet around you now. You realize his mask has white eyes in the black, similar to Wade’s, but a little smaller. His claws retract, slowly disappearing into his hands as you watch them.

“Logan.” Your voice offers no warmth. “Fancy outfit.” He licks his lips, shifting on his feet, seemingly not knowing what to say to you now that he has your attention, not that he gets much time to speak, as you hear Wade yell for him.

“Where are you hiding peanut?”

“Third floor!” Then there’s footsteps on the stairs, and Wade appears, red suit and all. He spots you and Logan standing several feet apart, both tense, and starts, what you can honest to god only describe as skipping, over to Logan.

“We have to stop meeting like this pookie.” He slings an arm around Logan, winking at you. “Would ruin our reputation, fraternizing with the enemy.” He glances to the side, noticing the body laying there. “Thank you convenient anonymous henchman.” You tilt your head at them, squinting at Wade as anger simmers through you, muting anything that might be sent through their bonds to you.

“Don’t fucking call me that, and we are not doing anything.”

“You sure? The tension was thicker than Al’s oatmeal when I got here.”

“I was thinking of where to shoot Logan so I could run, and not get stopped.” A little white lie, because you weren’t then, but you are now. And Wade too of course. Logan scowls, you see his fists clenched tight, making you wonder how close his claws are to coming out again.

“Like I said, tension! Also, since you insist on keeping it professional at work, it’s Wolverine when we’re working.” You blink. Huh. You raise a brow.

“A weasel?”

“A mustelid actually! Weasels are part of it, but so are badgers an-”

“Shut the fuck up Wade.” Logan, or Wolverine apparently, growls out as he looks between the two of you. He still looks unsure of what to actually say or do, but you’ll make that decision for him. For both of them.

“I’m just gonna keep doing what I was doing, and leave.” Before they can say anything or protest, you raise your gun, shooting off two quick shots. The first hits Wolverine’s knee, shattering his kneecap, the other does the same to Deadpool.

“Motherfucker!” They both lose their balance at the unexpected hits, Logan grunts in pain and Wade swears loudly as they crumple to the floor.

You turn around and sprint for the exit, finding yourself on a roof with a fire escape, which you run over to and quickly climb down. Your breath is in your throat, you hear Wade yell your name just as your boots hit the ground. You look up, both of them are looking over the edge of the building. You look away, running over to where you parked your black Yamaha R7 when you arrived earlier. You almost forgo the helmet to make it out of there quicker, but remind yourself through the urge to get away that that would suck with the wind and insects, so you put it on. The bike purrs to life, drowning out another call of your name.

This time it's your turn to burn out of there as your soulmates watch your tail light disappear into the night.

Your shoulders ache as you lean forward, trying to make yourself as aerodynamic as possible as you rush away from your soulmates.

(Part 6)

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blazingstar29 · 1 year ago

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Top Gun Workouts - Maverick

(because two people encouraged me)

disclaimer: i’m not qualified in any sport or exercise science so please don’t take this for gospel. consult with a professional etc etc.

In this series I’ll be breaking down the muscular make up of characters and what exercises i think they’d do, if that’s something that may trigger you please give this a miss and enjoy my other general shitposting!

Okay let’s look at 1986 Maverick, keeping in mind him/tom cruise is about 23/24

These are some of the best side profile shots in the movie. In the second one he’s flexing (accidentally or on purpose) which really shows of the tricep definition. Maverick’s actually really interesting in his composition because he has really lean and defined abs but isn’t as lean as Ice or Slider. He has a slightly stockier appearance and perhaps trains for strength rather than hypertrophy. Anyway; There’s definitely a focus on arms here, although in TGM Tom’s arms are even bigger.

He’s a bit hunched over here but there is back definition too and again, tricep and delt’s are pretty well defined.

The beach scene shows off a lot of Mav’s torso and you see from many angles how strong his obliques are. Strong obliques can given the illusion of a wider rib cage and make your hips appear narrower. He hasn’t got the abs of Slider but he’s got a core of steel. You can see under his left arm in both photos there is some lateral definition. He doesn’t have a huge chest but his traps make up for it.

Overall it’s hard to tell with his legs, there’s not a lot to go off.

Exercises

Upper body focus. Tricep focused exercises such as dips and skull crushers.

Biceps are a little bit lacking so probably not a huge focus there but defiently bicep curls. He’s got a “curls get girls” mentality

Seated rows, lateral pull downs and chin ups to target the back

Probably dead lifts and/or squats but not a super heavy amount. Despite not having a lot of muscle mass on his legs, Mav isn’t disproportionate. I think his cardio comes from running and that’s where he gets the toned legs from.

Ultimately I think Mav has a bit of a sleeper build. If he has a ‘pump’ or flexes you see his muscles really easily but in his day to day life he looks toned but nothing crazy. Classic sleeper build. I think he likes to work out for aesthetics but flying is his everything, so functional fitness to be in peak position. Explosive movements, core strengthening and lots of cardiovascular exercises to help against g-forces

#top gun 1986 #pete maverick mitchell #top gun workouts #top gun maverick #tom cruise

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago

Note

can you do a ghost version of the Memories of Youth fic you did for price please?

Harvest Storms

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Daughter!Reader

SYNOPSIS: In the process of trying to keep you happy and separate from him, he was leading you down the exact path he had tried to steer you from.

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

WARNINGS: Angst, emotionally distant father/Simon, injuries, arguments, mentions of Simon's past, hurt/comfort, fluff near the end, etc.

A/N: I know this might be controversial but I really don't see Simon wanting kids so I tried to keep this realistic but also cute, lmao. Enjoy!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Simon admitted that having a kid was never on his to-do list, and it wasn’t only his job that caused that. In fact, at any point in his life, the thought alone terrified him.

His icy eyes spaced out as the man unstrapped his combat vest in the on-base armory, hucking it over his head with a tiny grunt. Muscles ached; wounds burned.

He’d known having that one-night stand wasn’t right—he should have just stuck to his perfected solitude of dark rooms and middle-of-the-night workouts. But there was only so much you could do before instinct overcame any sort of common sense; add a few drinks into the mix and the concoction had glazed over his mind like a honey-laced dream.

And then nine months later a single text. A photo attachment.

“She’s yours.” His child. His daughter. Simon had a daughter.

It had taken weeks of self-isolation to figure out what to do. There were moments of very real panic—bone-deep worry and hatred. He couldn’t be a father and still be the Ghost that he was now, but there wasn’t a way to reverse his already damaged psyche. Home in Manchester didn’t feel like a real place anymore; home was a gun in his hands and his mask over his face. Slumping bodies and adrenaline-blown pupils. The high he got out of killing could never be topped by the joys of having a family he didn’t want.

But then he remembered his own father and the guilt that had struck him at that moment left Simon physically sick. Head pounding and bile lacing his tongue as he retched over a toilet. It would have been easier to just promise money, and give over some of what he earned to give you a future. He could distance himself but still be a shadow on the wall if it all went south.

Yes, it could have been easy.

Until your mother up and disappeared; leaving you all alone. There was no way in hell he could leave you in foster care. The stories he’d heard…

Simon’s gloved hands flex, joints cracking, before he checks the watch on his wrist with slow-blinking eyes. He needed to be home in two hours.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” A groan escapes, rolling his shoulders twice before grasping at his thigh holster—slipping out the X12 to place it down with a small thump of black metal.

These movements were entirely routine and soon there was a neat line of multiple knives, the pistol, an automatic rifle, frag grenades, med pack, rope, and anything else that Ghost could have even the slightest possibility of needing in a tight spot. Through it all, the mask stayed; icy eyes behind the spread of black face paint numb.

It’s one hour later that he’s done cleaning and putting everything away with tired fingers. Feet shuffle before he’s exiting the armory all together, snatching the large duffle bag near the double doors; a small grunt plays out of his chest. The strap is dragged over his head when Soap passes him in the base’s hallway.

All Simon could do is hold back a groan as a headache already begins to form.

“Lt.” The Scot calls, smile pulling his lips up, “off to go hide in back-alleys, then?”

“Jesus, Johnny, shut the fuck up already.” Ghost grumbles out, hands slipping into his pockets as he continues off down the hallway. Behind him, the mohawked Sergeant belts out a laugh before disappearing into the armory Simon had just vacated.

“Copy and check, Sir!” Sarcasm bleeds out and makes icy eyes fall half-closed with subdued annoyance.

The large phantom continues on until he exits the base and digs his keys out of his pockets—finding his car in the underground parking garage exactly where he had left it two months prior. As if on autopilot, he shuffles open the door and tosses his bag in the back before sitting in the front seat and twisting the ignition.

Reaching into the glove compartment, Simon pulls out a clean balaclava and holds it loosely—his opposite hand slipping up to the skeletal mask of his head and feeling the fibers on his fingertips. Replacing it swiftly, the clean fabric slips over his face with a stiff movement of his arm. Seconds later, his foot presses into the gas.

There are no words spoken, no comments under breath, just a silence that seems to stem from some underlying anxiety completely foreign to Simon on the field. Going home always made him nervous. A soul-digging kind of hesitation.

It takes him the rest of that last hour to drive home—a tiny little country house far removed from Manchester though still leaving it well guarded by local law-enforcement patrols. A perfect mix of safety and distance that had been the driving force in Simon’s initial purchase of it. But it wasn’t his only properly, not by a long shot.

Like a rat, the holes of his paranoia ran deep into the earth.

He pulls the car into the dirt driveway and kills the vehicle. Outside in the darkening sky, his eyes slide to watch over the top of the garden wall; seeing tree branches sway in a subdued breeze. Sitting there for a few moments, the man just ends up shaking his head and shoving open the door with his shoulder.

Veins tighten under his flesh.

“Kid!” Simon raps on the front door with his knuckles when his boots take him over and up the steps, voice gravelly. A house key slips into the lock, turning over before the barrier opens. Ghost stomps in and immediately knows the entire home is completely empty.

He blinks in confusion, looking over the still air and dull noises. The AC unit whirls; the fridge shakes. No feet on the floor—no groan or sly comment.

You were a teenager now, but the absence of your aura was harsh to him. You were supposed to be here. The Manchester man’s lips thin.

“Christ, don’t go and tell me she’s fuckin’ gone again…” Simon kicks the door shut and lets his bag fall from his fingers, feeling his chest tighten slowly. He beelines to the kitchen where, sure enough, a note from the far-off neighbor who keeps an eye on you when he’s gone was sitting with its delicate font.

Fast fingers snatch it like a snake, jaw clenched and tight grip creasing the paper. He reads with a growing disappointment.

“She got into a fight out of school again—black eye and bruised knuckles. I’m sorry, Mr. Riley, but I couldn’t get a hold of you to tell you about it. I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father. When you read this, I’ll have tried to make her come back inside but I was unsuccessful. I left supper at the base of the hill and a blanket. I’m sorry. I’ll be at my home if you need me.”

Simon places the note down and runs a hand up and down his face, a deep sigh exiting his lips as his fingers cover his jaw and chin. Like the definition of fatigue, his body lightly bows forward. Slouched shoulders.

This would make the fifth fight this year.

I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father.

After a minute of mute irritation, the man drops his hands and goes to the freezer, taking out an ice pack with a small glint of further emotion stinted in his gaze. There are so many things that Simon feels for you—some of which he would never be able to properly express.

He’s not a good man. Not someone to look up to or place on a pedestal. He’s in the 141 because he can do a job; a job that not many others can do simply for the fact that something in him was broken. Shattered beyond repair.

Simon was never meant for this.

The blond placed the ice pack into a rag from the drawer and exited through the back door of the house. Grunt stuck in his throat at the thought of the delinquent activities you seemed to always get up to when he was gone which, admittingly, was more often than not.

I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father.

But wasn’t he doing a good thing by staying away? He took you in—provided food, water, shelter, and anything else you could need. What was he doing wrong?

Simon’s brows tighten as the chilled air hits him as a winder wind would. By now the sun had fully set and the darkness was becoming more black than blue by the second; dim twinklings from stars dancing in the pupils of his eyes. His feet take him off the back porch and easily finds a small trail that leads through the barren garden all the way to a hill in the distance.

Icy blue easily finds the tiny hunched being at the very top. His hand tightens over the ice pack.

Ghost was unable to understand, of course, he hadn’t had the kind of childhood people would want—was never around kids in general. No friends with little brats running around, obviously. Was this a normal kind of thing kids did? Start fights?

He’d heard some things about teenagers.

Closing his tired eyes for a moment, Simon silently walks past the plate of food at the foot of the hill but snatches the fluffy blanket that had been beside it. If you don’t want to eat he won't force you, but it was getting cold out quickly.

Simon wasn’t letting you catch a bug.

He huffs as he ascends the slope, all the aches and pains finally making themself more known in his thighs and abdomen.

You hear him coming when he’s three-fourths of the way there.

Your red eyes widen in shock, hands that had been trapping your legs to your chest rising to wipe the tears on your cheeks away aggressively; frantic. Three seconds later a heavy fabric hits your head and you tense, widely looking up into the dead eyes of your father.

The blanket thumps to the ground beside you in a heap.

“Put it on,” he grunts from behind his balaclava and your surprised expression slowly sours.

You turn away with a growl. “Don’t want to.”

“Bloody ‘ell, just put it on,” there’s no acidity behind the words, but the annoyance is clear. “Asking to get fuckin’ sick at this rate, are you? I’m not cleanin’ up your vomit from the floor when you're hunched over like a mutt on drugs.”

Not a stranger to his humor, but with a venom-laced look, you grab the blanket as Simon sits next to you and end up throwing it over your shoulders. Your face hurt too much to talk for long periods—right eye swollen and radiating heat; hands weren't that much better, the knuckles puffy and blood-flooded under the skin. It made you flinch when you had to clench your fingers.

You’re acutely aware of your father’s presence. How he sits with his spine bent with one hand behind him; legs laying out flat. You should be happy he’s back safe in one piece, but in reality, there would be little change if he never showed back up at all.

The house was always silent anyways. Dead. Simon was as much a stranger to you as he was to everyone else.

“What did I tell you when I went away, eh?” The man asks you lowly when you’ve settled, and you grit your teeth and look out over the landscape, long grass swaying in the wind. “Kid.”

“Don’t get into any more fights.” Words are stiff, reflective of both of your muscles and hearts.

“Affirmative. You want to explain to me what you did?”

“Got into another fight.” An icepack is tossed near you, bouncing in the grass. You scoff but take it, softly applying it to your face with a concealed flinch. Shame permeates in your ribs, a desperate need to prove yourself. “I didn’t mean to—”

“That’s not an excuse.” Simon glares at you from the side of his eye, utterly serious. “When I tell you something, you listen, yeah?”

“...Yeah,” you grit your teeth and clench your hands, a bitter huff leaving your lips. “Sure.”

A tense silence keeps you in its clutches, the kind of silence that stems from two people who really have no idea how to speak or understand one another.

“No more fighting,” Simon grits out, “now show me.”

“It’s not that bad—”

“Show me it.” Your face burns as you slip the ice pack away and turn your face his way, meeting your father’s gaze head-on and seeing his lids slightly pull back. You spy his hand clenching in the grass, ripping strands out like hair from a head.

“Happy?” You sarcastically ask, turning back forward and putting the ice pack back into your socket.

It’s a long while before he speaks to you again, and you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your face when he does. Your heart rampages at the deathly slow and tiny voice.

“Why?” The question makes your body flair with anger and you grip the pack tighter, feeling the ice shift in your grip as you clench it violently. You feel your fingers twitch when you answer, unconsciously closing into fists.

“Why?” You glare at him, “Why the hell do you care?”

Simon’s eyes go blank, brows going up his head. Gazes lock and you’re suddenly standing to your feet, chucking the ice pack right into his chest. It only makes you madder when he catches it easily, glancing down at the object before slowly shifting his numb eyes back to you.

“You’re never fucking here, what’s the point in telling you anything about me?” Your father’s face is covered, but the mask is more than just physical—it’s a part of him in every sense. You don’t know what he is, but you see his lungs going still in his ribs. You splay your hands around you as the blanket hits the ground at your feet. “It wouldn’t even make a difference if you never came back! Even when you’re here it barely even matters beyond who’s dishes are in the sink.”

Bitter tears spring to your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, a tight itch in your skin. Slight guilt hits you when you shove out such harsh words, but you don’t care enough right now to think about what you’re saying. Everything just hits a breaking point. Shaking your head you scoff again, weaker this time. “You don’t even know the first things about me and you want me to try and explain why I do the things I do?”

Simon watches and listens, stone still. It’s as if he doesn’t even breathe; his pulse doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. If you would have been able to see it, you’d have noticed the way the large man’s lips were slightly parted.

He wasn’t averse to arguments, he yelled on Ops and cursed aggressively on duty, but he had made a stark promise to himself to never yell at you. If there was one thing that reminded him of his father—it was that. Explosive fights that only ended one way.

What you were saying was everything he knew to be true. This came to him in a slow and silent realization of growing pain. Simon didn’t know your favorite color or what food you loved. Your interests or your goals.

He knew how much you spent on snacks at the store, but didn’t know what you bought.

Ghost clenches his jaw and watches your resolve deteriorate with a heavy heart. What was he supposed to do? He was your father, sure, but…he didn’t know the first things that went with anything beyond giving you items and objects.

I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father.

How could he be a father to you?

Simon clears his throat, for once in his life completely unable to pull on any sort of skill to rectify this situation. You take his silence as blatant disregard.

With a burning face, you sniffle and twist on your heel, speed-walking down the hill back into the house. Your brain is pounding in your head, just as fast as your heart when you finally stomp through the garden and shove open the back door.

Simon doesn’t tell you to stop.

Left on that hill, he watches your back disappear into the house and gets a rabid pain in his stone heart. You were his daughter. You were hurt; neglected. He’d never felt like this before.

Simon had failed the only job that he knew was far more important than any other. Blue darkens into a color reminiscent of storm clouds.

“Fuckin’ Christ.” Standing, he snatches at the ice pack and the blanket, lightly jogging down the mound of earth. In no time he’s standing in the house again, having completely forgotten about the plate of food outside. It’s the tense set of his shoulders that really give away how unprepared he feels. How out of his expertise.

Give Simon a gun and he’d be able to take it apart and reassemble it in one minute; a knife and he’d have it sharp in seconds.

Simon Riley has no idea how to be a good father and he’s suddenly very aware of how fast the window is closing to try. You were his blood and his responsibility. He can’t end up like his own father.

The thought almost makes him sick again, stomach rolling with anxiety.

Inside the house, he tosses the items in his grip onto the couch and whispers past into the hallway to your room. Fingers twitching, he grabs at his balaclava before ripping it from his head; stuffing it into his pants pocket. Stopping in front of your room, Simon raises a hand.

Just as he’s about to shove open the door, he instantaneously stops himself with a sharp thought.

Daughter, not soldier. Home, not barracks.

Hand lowering, he takes a long and deep breath and waits a moment; gathering himself. He still didn’t know what to say…but…

God, your words hurt, but he needed to hear them because they were true.

Simon’s knuckles rasp on the wood, a series of three dull thumps that echo over the stale air. There’s a shuffling of sheets and a dull, “God, just go away!”

Cursing quietly under his breath, Simon runs his fingers through his hair tense-like; pushing back blond strands.

“Open up for me, yeah?” He tries, awkward as his hips shift weight. “Need ‘ta talk to you.”

A cruel laugh exits from under the bottom of the door. “You? Talk?”

Simon keeps his mouth shut and closes his eyes, pulling from the deep pit of patience he holds for on-duty missions and not mastered yet for disagreements and verbal talks. He calms down and rolls his shoulders slightly.

“Please.” A pin could drop.

It’s a long, hot-air moment before there's the padding of feet over the floor and the slight shift of the door handle. The metal jiggles before it’s twisted back with a firm hand.

Your face comes into view through the tiny crack of the door, injured eye on full display in all its swollen glory. A young face is laced with surprise at seeing your father’s bare visage—only the black face paint stuck to his skin—but even more so at his plea. There were only a few times you’d actually seen him and even fewer when you’d hear something like that. Simon stops himself from getting angry at the sight of your wound, staring down at you as his gaze softens just a fraction of a sliver.

He recalls the moment he had first held your form when he had picked you up at hospital years ago. You were so small, squirming in his foreign grip. The nurse had to tell him how to hold you properly—what to do and what not to do.

It had been the first time that Simon could really say he’d been terrified down to his marrow; sweating and lips pulled tight. This being so small it couldn’t do anything by itself had rendered him frozen with unease like he had been stabbed in the heart. Your eyes had looked up at him with trust and love. You hadn’t cried or screamed at his hidden face, even if he thought you should have…you’d done something worse.

You had reached up to his face and placed your little fingers on his brow, slapping his flesh with no strength or hatred. Simon’s gaze never left you for hours after you’d done that, uncharacteristically warm and rendered mute to all else.

Tiny. Weak. Innocent.

How could anybody ever leave you? Hurt you? But the man had been petrified; utterly fearful to the point he would begin shaking when you’d begin crying for a bottle.

In the process of trying to keep you happy and separate from him, he was leading you down the exact path he had tried to steer you from.

“What?” Your crestfallen voice brings him back and he blinks, expression going blank once more. But he tries.

“Can I come in?”

“I don’t know—are you going to give a lecture?” You ask, eyes red and other hand still holding the door handle. Simon breathes out a grunted sigh.

“Negative, Moppet, no lecture.” He relaxes his posture, eye bags plainly visible. He was so tired his fingers had gone numb. “Jus’ need ‘ta…” Words fail him. What did he need to do?

Simon clears his throat, looking off down the hallway before his eyes drift back to you.

“You land a hit, then?” You blink in silent shock at the graveled question, a hitch in your lungs giving way to confusion.

“I…” your feet shuffle, face burning, “what?”

One of your father’s large hands goes up to rub the back of his neck, fingers creating red lines across his flesh as his chest rises and falls. You could immediately tell he had no idea what he was doing.

But…he was trying.

“A hit,” he vaguely gestures to your eye, staring intensely. “Did you get ‘em back?”

It’s a vague few moments before you respond, oddly touched by the question. Your door opens the slightest bit wider.

“More than one person,” you admit hesitantly. Your father’s gaze darkens but you quickly continue. “T-they look worse than me right now.”

Simon nods stiffly, hands going to slide into his pockets. “That’ll do,” a pause, “...‘cause I can’t beat up teenagers without getting into a fuckin’ heap ‘o shit.”

Your heart lurches with amusement and a small smile grows on your face. You stare, still just a tiny bit confused at the sudden shift, but unable to stop the chuckle you let out. He doesn’t know how to describe the feeling in his chest when his ears twitch at the sound of your humor, yet Simon pulls a smirk to his lips. It made him…content, you could say.

“Who said they were teenagers?” you smirk, tinting your head, and your father immediately frowns, unamused. Brows pull in.

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“No, it isn’t. Shut your bloody trap.” The air lightens to a degree you hadn’t experienced before. A silence settles before you break it, vision darting down to spy on the dog tags Simon wears.

“...How long are you staying?” The man hums, licking his lips.

I know you said your job is important but I think your daughter needs her father.

“I’m off as long as it takes to get you to stop picking fights, yeah?” Your fingers flinch and you stare into eyes that are always like ice, except now try to melt themselves into a chilled puddle.

“Change of heart?” You ask, voice subdued. A bitter hope builds in your veins.

Simon motions with his chin for you to open the door to your room and you do, elbowing it to the side before backing up—letting your father’s large frame enter.

He looks around for a moment at the posters and the bits of personality, glaring internally at himself because he didn’t know what you liked at all. He seems disappointed with his own negligence.

He’d really fucked up.

“C’mere,” Simon goes and snatches your desk chair before he whirls it around, “lemme take a proper look at it.” His hand pats the top of the wood and you listen, going to it and sitting down softly.

Your father kneels in front of you, bones cracking, and he delicately grabs hold of your chin to tilt your head to the side with practiced ease. You avoid his eyes, hands in your lap held tight together in this silence that brews from shared thorns.

Simon has to take a deep breath to get his head out of his rage at the sight of your damaged skin; instinctual reaction to guard you rearing its head even more so now that he can see the injury in the dim light of your desk lamp. His thumb caresses the side of the swelling with intense care.

“Won’t die,” is all he can say, voice hard and strained. “Lucky you, eh?” You scoff and his hands leave—there wasn’t much he could do. “Moppet.”

Eyes slide up to his and his grip finds your bicep, squeezing once. You’re momentarily locked at the sight of real concern in his glinting orbs; a once in a blue moon occurrence.

“Give me your word.” Simon levels firmly, feet shifting. “No more of this. You’re gonna end up gettin’ hurt—badly—you got that?”

“They were calling soldiers cannon fodder.” You glare at your hands in your lap, mumbling out the truth with a burning face mixed with shame and honesty. Your father goes silent. “That they weren’t even good enough for bullets.”

Jaw clenching, you rotate your wrist and feel the flare of pain from the joints. A deep sigh exits from Simon and with a hesitant clench of his jaw, his hand travels to the back of your head. He presses firmly, and your face finds the junction of his neck and shoulder with little fight. Tense in the beginning, you slowly breathe in sweat and tarmac with a gradual loosening feeling in your muscles.

Eyes wide, you slowly begin to return the strange embrace. Your father flinches lightly when your fingers slip along his waist, hands grabbing into his shirt. But like you, time makes him calm—the side of his face connects with the side of your scalp, lashes fluttering closed tightly.

It was you. His daughter. Innocent.

The emotions are so foreign to you that it brings a burning behind your eyes as the minutes lengthen.

Simon can’t even begin to process it, it just felt natural to do such things for you. If there was one thing he did know—it was that he didn’t want to see you in pain or suffering; hurt or eyes filled with pain. His hands slip to bring you up into his arms like you were a baby again, carrying you easily as your nose sniffles with restrained tears. You’re placed in your bed with a delicate plop, icy eyes darting over you until it seems a decision is made with a quick nod.

You watch him leave and return seconds later with a pile of manilla folders in his hands. Your father grunts softly, “Go to sleep. It’s late out,” and drops the items to your desk, sitting down with a huff and a squeal from your chair. The air is warm and you sit in it a moment longer.

Eyes blink at the silhouette before a small smile builds on your lips—genuine and warm like a weighted blanket.

“How long are you gonna be there?” You ask your father, grasping the covers and slipping under as your head hits the pillow; making sure to stay on the uninjured side.

He doesn’t turn around.

“All night. Need ‘ta get this shite done for my boss.” You don’t know why, but you feel like he’s lying. Simon looks over his shoulder with a tone dipping to a whisper. “Sleep, Kid. We’ll get those knuckles sorted in the morning.”

Of course, he’d noticed that, too.

“Dad?” You ask and his spine straightens instantly at the title. It’s a long time before he answers and when he does his emotion is the softest you’ve ever heard him; gravel so deep you almost miss the words entirely.

“What is it?”

“Goodnight.” Simon’s hands shake as they open the first folder in the small stack, small tremors that are both horrible and endearing. He doesn’t say anything until you’re fast asleep behind him—when he stands up and walks over, pressing a kiss to your forehead and pulling the covers farther up to your chin.

Into your skin, he whispers, “...Goodnight, my little Moppet.”

Simon wonders if his daughter likes eggs for breakfast as his pen slides over the first report, one eye forever staying on your slumbering body to watch the rise and fall of your lungs.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

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cursingtoji · 2 years ago

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Big Boy Toji, dad!toji, non-muscular body appreciation, toji calls reader mama

40 something year old Toji who doesn’t have the carved abs he used to have in his twenties

now he has a belly, soft and huggable

his kids favourite thing is sleeping on top of him, he’s warm and comfortable

he doesn’t care about shaving every other day anymore

going a few days and maybe a week with a stubble

he will definitely shave if you ask tho

but it’s just very fun to watch you squirm when his thick facial hair tickles your skin as he kisses your neck

in his younger year he used to shave his chest and abdomen too cause he thought women liked it better that way

he doesn’t care about it anymore either, you like his chest hair and he’s quite aware about how your eyes drift down his happy trail when he’s shirtless he lives for it

his chest is hard when he flex but still soft enough to be your favourite pillow during the night

he’s not any less hot either

his arms are still muscular, maybe even bigger than before due to the long hours he spends on your house remodelling lifting all sorts of heavy material for you to have your dream home (and him saving as much money as possible)

sometimes you catch him looking at himself for a bit too long in the mirror after shower, he rubs his soft belly and grabs his sides

you don’t want to make him self aware so you carefully snicker behind him, wrapping your arms around his soft torso and kissing his shoulder blades

“come on daddy, why don’t you put those guns to a good use” you whisper on your tiptoes running a hand on his arm

“sure thing, mama” he picks you up so easily it never fails to amaze you how strong he is after all those years

sometimes he’ll carry a seven year old megumi (which’s already too heavy for you) in his bicep while doing other things around the house like he’s nothing

the extra weight he gained over the years shows up especially when he uses his old sweat pants, he doesn’t seem to realize how it hugs his ass so perfectly

he also doesn’t understand why his crotch feels so tight so he keeps pulling the material of his pants

“doll did you put those in the dryer? i think it has shrunken” he says looking down while you sip your coffee paying good attention to his perfect butt

his thighs are not immune to his growth either, they are not as muscular as they were when he used to workout but oh boy you can spend a ridiculous amount of time starting at them when he sits down, legs spread in his old basketball shorts

when he brings his friends over for a barbecue in his yard you bet he’s gonna pull you to sit on his lap at some point (or several) during the day

there’s no better feeling for him then sipping his cold beer while rubbing his loved one legs and watching his kids playing at the playground he build himself

#when i’m bored i think about the life i wanted toji to have #this is not a toji smut #this is a toji dad bod appreciation post #toji x reader #toji x y/n #jjk toji #jjk x reader #toji headcanons #jjk headcanons

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pinkpigtailsprincess · 7 months ago

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Hot Summer Dayz: Jammin n’ Jamica!! ☀️🛍️

Dolly is typing…..💬🎀….(1) NEW FROM; Dolly!🛍️

HI DOLLIES!! Welcome 2 My Next Summer Post where i cover how to not only have the best summer vacay/staycation but also give some useful tips on beating the summer heat!!

> Planning + Shopping !! 🛍️

> Knowing ur Location !! 🏝️

> Fun Summer activities to maximize ur Staycation !! ⭐️

> How 2 Beat the Summer Heat!! 👙

Planning + Shopping! *࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ🛍️

When shopping 4 outfits 4 vacay/spring/sumemr we wanna make sure we not only make sure we’re comfortable in out clothes but also make sure they’re breathable and not too heavy or baggy!! bc obvis were gonna be in harsh sunny weather!! you pick up pieces that wre stylish nd serene!! here are some pieces i definitely recommend!!👙

Halter Tops

Cami Tops

Daisy Dukes

Flowy midi skirts

colorful platform shoes

strapless mini dress

miniskirts!!

jellyfish dresses

croptops

cute open toe shoes!!

stylish sunglasses!!

swimsuit tops

if its a stay in day or you don’t feel like dressing up an oversized white t-shirt but dress it up more!!

if you want to try to stray away from wearing darker/black color palettes bc they can absorb more heat

Knowing ur Location! *࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ🏝️

When Traveling 2 a New city,state,country you always want to be mindful of where you are,how this place operates and how to be like the locals!! + also knowing about weather!! my tips….

If ur traveling to a new country learn some of the basics of the language to communicate properly!!

Learn how they drive,speak,how they pay etc.

always keep money on you obvii!!

SUNSCREEN.SUNSCREEN.SUNSCREEN. ik this is already bible for some people but im gonna keep saying bc its soo important when traveling to places that are closer the equator & countries that are known to be hotter ALWAYS HAVE SUNSCREEN. and not just ur regular SPF 30 try using spf 50! like for me this summer i’ll be in place like san diego,florida & saint thomas and they have really harsh suns especially in summer im gonna need a way stronger SPF than my regular 30 to always be sure to have a stronger SPF everywhere!!

always be friendly with the locals its nice to always be friendly no matter what

educate urself on the country!!

while ur there try learning some new skills

Fun Summer Activities 2 Maximize ur Staycation! ☀️👙

For my Girls that are staying in their home state,country here are some super fun activities for you to try so you can also join in on the summer fun!!

Make a Bucketlist

Make cute Crafts

Go to the pool or beach with ur friends!!

cut up summer fruit and make a fruit salad

take up a new hobby!!

have a movie night + sleepover

go shopping

try a fun new workout

if u have a younger sibling play outside with them!

Watch ur favorite movies

water ballon fights!

CARNIVALS!!

painting at the beach

aquariums or planetarium

karaoke!

play a new video game!

Beating the Summer Heat !! 🎀☀️

Obvi its gonna b super hot during summer and sometimes unbearably hot out but its okay bc i have some super fun way 2 beat the heat!! 👙

Go 2 The Pool!

Cold Treats ie: ice scream,icee,slushies

drink ice cold water

eat some cold fruit watermelon,grapes,pineapple,honeydew

Stay hydrated!!

eat some cold meals!!

have a water gun fight!

Itz been fun!! Dolly Signing off….💗

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callofdudes · 2 years ago

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Slapping their ass-

(Because why not right?)

Ghost

You and Simon had only been dating for six months. While those six months had been rough, you found it rewarding that Simon had come to trust you a little more than before. He allowed you to touch him in private much more than he typically would. He no longer reprimanded you for pulling his mask up enough for a quick kiss. The two of you were sparring when it happened. Ghost threw a right hook which you managed to dodge. You slipped in behind him and as a last minute thought you reached out your hand and slapped him right across the ass. It happened before you knew it happened and both of you froze. He turned to look back at you, eye twitching. There was an uncomfortably long silence where you both just kind of took in the moment. One about to kill and one about to be killed. "Simon... I-"

"Run."

You're not in too much trouble, don't be scared of him ;)

Soap

It was a dare because of course it was. You were sitting on a training mat with Gaz who held your feet as you finished your situps. You were going back over sml banter when you might have let it slip that you thought how cute Soap's ass looked in those stupidly tight workout shorts he sometimes wore on hot days. It was ridiculous not to look at him. Next thing you knew you were locked into the typical peer pressure of a dare. Soap was talking with Price when you walked up super casual. He nodded to your captain and politely smiled at Soap. "Mornin' Soap." He was about to reply when your hand came up behind him and smacked him right on those stupid shorts. You tried not to laugh at the look of shock and walked away. Once he recovered he smirked and ran after you, fully intending to slap you back. When he did, both of you laughed it off. This was a one time thing and totallynotthenewwayyougreeteachotherinthemorning-

Gaz

A mission. Both of you were camped out on a roof top. While you had taken position with your sniper Gaz held his eyes on the three entrances from the building and up to the roof you were both on. You had been sitting there for a grueling fifty minutes, making sure no one was left when you heard the call from Price that you were safe. Almost immediately you both sighed. You dropped the gun and covered your face, feeling about ready to cry you were so relieved. Gaz came over and sat down, smiling at you. "We're all good Y/n." He placed his hand hesitantly on the small of your back. "I think I need a minute." He nodded and patted your back and got up. When you were ready you got up and met him by the ladder with your stuff. He started going to the ladder last and on the way you reached your hand up and slapped him as hard as you could. "That's for scaring me back there." He froze for a second before nodding. "Can we continue this at home??" He's asking for a friend.

Price

Price was not having a fun day. In fact, he was having a, for lack of a better word, a shit day. He has been sitting there doing paperwork for what felt like hours. He admitted that his body relaxed when you walked in. You carried a warm cup of coffee in one hand and some food from the mess hall in the other. "Figured you'd be in here. Doing ok?" He nodded and stood, kissing you when you reached his desk. You placed down the items in your hands and rubbed his cheek. "Don't be too hard on yourself. I still need you in working order y'know." He scoffed. "And for what necessity would I need to be working, love?" You kissed his cheek again. "Don't get cocky now." His hands moved down to your spine to caress your hips. "Never." You both chuckled softly. You pulled away to let him sit, but as he was turning around he felt your hand slap him hard across the ass. He whipped around and you knew to run. You made it almost to the door before his body slammed into you. He pressed you against the wall and raised your arms above your head. "Whatever will I do with you." He chuckled. You didn't leave that office for a good bit. :)

König

You were late to the mess hall. You had guests over so the night before had been a hectic mix of parting and games. Probably wasn't the best thing in the world, but your hangover was only mild at most.

When you walked in everyone was at their tables talking to each other. You almost didn't notice that mountain of a man by the mess hall table of food until you got there. König was flipping through what looked to be a news paper absent mindedly, with no care for your existence. Poor thing was probably feeling to shy to sit down.

You grabbed your food but before going to your table you reached your hand down and slapped his ass, accompanied by your firm grip to get his attention. He whipped around, shaking and spluttering surprised. Everyone looked at the two of you, causing him to panic and attempt to hide himself again. "Come sit with me." You urged in a not so friendly tone. You could see him shaking in either fear or embarrassment. He grabbed his food, muttering as he followed you to a table.

Alejandro

He did it to you first. And after he did, the little shit took every precaution to make sure you couldn't physically do it back. He had cornered you by the wash hall and slapped you hard enough to mark with a comment about your previous nights escepades. You had been embarrassed, but Rodolfo was regularly exposed to your interesting relationship to care much. He just continued on and started to shower like nothing had happened. You forgot about the Cartel and every heist, scheme, robbery. Your new mission was to get him back. And you did. The poor boys when they first met you they knew they were in for it. Alejandro had gotten out to greet the guests, and you felt inclined to as well. That and the seating arrangement needed to change. So when he opened the door for Ghost you saw your opportunity. Before he could get another word out you slapped him so hard across that stupid little ass of his he just went wide eyes. Jaw open. You smirked and loudly proclaimed, "Finally! Dumb Vaquero!" He turned back to you and smirked. "Mi vida, guests." You stuck out your tongue. "Which means you can't do nothing about it." You were wrong. He did do something about it. He was still very proud you managed to one-up him.

Rodolfo

You were making breakfast and casually talking. The others weren't quite up yet, so you two had made a point to be quite. Rodolfo had an apron to keep his uniform clean, which to yours and everyone else's realization made his hips just that more prominent. He was casually flipping an egg when you walked by to grab the flower. Your hand slipped from your pocket and full on grabbed this man's ass. He gasped when you let go and turned to berate you. He scolded you as blush saturated his cheeks. His pink nose reminding you of a certain reindeer. You smiled. "What will you do about it?" Your smile didn't last long. He pulled you by the strap of your sweater, slammed you into the sink bent over and smacked you as hard as he could with the spatula in his hand. Rodolfo leaned into your ear and huffed. "Don't do that again, or next time I might not be so nice." Needless to say you did it again.

First time doing this, hope it was ok ✌️😅

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en-rev · 8 months ago

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Enhypen x fem 8th member reader

Summary: En o'Clock ep 68, except you’re the 8th member of ENHYPEN

Note: Episode had to be changed slightly for the story. You are younger than Jungwon but older than Niki. You were also a part of Sunoo, Jay, and Jungwon’s group for the previous episode.

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After completing the tasks that the diary had set out for your group, you were carrying a box of snacks as you walked in Sunoo’s tracks. All of you were checking out the building in awe as it seemed like a fun and luxurious place to stay for filming.

Setting down the box you check out the tub by the window in what seems to be the entertainment area, “Wow, it's beautiful here” you talk to yourself as you gaze out the window. Hearing Jungwon run up the stairs, you turn and watch Sunoo as he mentions he also wants to see what's upstairs. Following Jay as he skips up the steps, your eyes widen as you see an air hockey table. “Oh my god… One of you needs to play against me in air hockey.” you let out quickly as you’re already searching for the puck. Looking up to see your members looking at the vending machine in the room you hover over them to see what they’re trying to win. “Do you think it’ll work right?”... “No, probably not”... Sunoo and Jungwon converse before being immediately disappointed seeing that the snack they tried to win was nowhere close to being grabbed by the claw. You almost giggle at how quickly they walk away from the machine.

As you all gather around the next machine, you begin to hype up Jay as you realize what it is. He jumps up and down as he prepares to throw a punch at the game. Seeing him finally throw the punch your mouth immediately drops… yeah he was strong but that seemed a little intense… you mentally make note to not really piss him off. “Woah, a 930! That's cool” Sunoo and Jungwon say as they begin to walk towards another section of the place. “I bet the other’s are gonna be all over that machine” you say as you follow behind Jay again. Seeing nothing but workout equipment you immediately head up to see what's on the third floor. Peering into the rooms and seeing the beds you smile as you skip down a little to find your own room. Being the only female member definitely had its perks. Looking in you also saw your own bathroom, you punched the air in excitement as you looked at the luxurious looking bathroom. Sunoo walks into your room, also wanting to check out what you were being given, “Wow, you’re too lucky” he practically pouts at how good your room is, knowing that you don’t have to share. “Should’ve known you would get the best.” Jay sighs in defeat as Jungwon laughs at him in amusement.

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Settling down again as we wait for the others to arrive, you slowly travel around the room to check out what's there again while dancing to yourself. Jungwon attempts to call the other members to show them the house they are staying in but they dont answer. “Oh, well…” he stretches. Pouting at his disappointment I point out something outside, “Ohhh! Look there's a bunch of stuff outside” you say as you run out the door with Jungwon quickly following. He smiles brightly as he grabs a water gun, looking at all the other things there are outside. “Lets fill these '' he says as he's already crouching by the pool, filling up the toy. You grab another one and begin to fill it up, smiling at the thought of messing with your members later. Sunoo and Jay come to check out what we're doing before heading to the lawn area to take pictures. “Hey, do you think I could stay on top of them without falling?” you ask with a large smile, pointing at the pile of floaties he was stacking together. He laughs loudly and stands, “You would not be able to” he practically wheezes at the thought of you trying. As Jay photographs Sunoo in the background shaking your head with confidence, “Watch this” you say as you practically fall onto the floaties he piled up. Not expecting one of your legs to miss almost completely, your right leg is in the water up to your mid thigh, your jeans feeling scratchy against your skin. Letting out a scream as you grip into the floaties and raise your leg out of the water, trying to avoid getting even more wet. “My mic! Jungwon please…. Get me up!” you shout in panic as you struggle to stay afloat on the water floaties. You hear Jay's loud laugh as he hunches over and takes pictures of you, half soaked struggling to stay afloat on floaties that are practically submerged in the water. Sunoo’s hand flies to his mouth as he laughs at the scene before him and Jungwon is on the cement laughing at your struggle.

They laugh more before they try to help you out of the water, Jay grabs onto the back of your jeans and Jungwon is holding onto your arm as they try to lift you. Sunoo laughs as he records the scene to show the others later. “Yah, hold still or else we’ll drop you” he explains as he attempts to pull you up with one arm, Jungwon is still laughing at you as he pulls the floaties closer to the edge. Just as Jay has you in the air by your jeans, he struggles as he attempts to pull you back to land…. But your jeans begin to slip a little. Editors edit an emoji over you as a sliver of your underwear shows, and it almost looks like Jay is giving you a wedgie. “JAY!!!” you scream as you go to pull at your jeans, causing you both to yell as he loses his grip and you're submerged in water, almost dragging him down with you. The three boys laugh as you submerge quickly with a gasp before making your way to climb out of the water. Standing up everyone can clearly see the mic under your shirt, and how it definitely is ruined at this point. Though, knowing you, those things would inevitably happen. Seeing them almost red from laughing, you run towards them while shaking your body as an attempt to get them wet. You all laugh before you grab under your shirt to remove the mic and show it to them while pouting, “I should’ve known it was a bad idea” you sign out as they enjoyed how the events played out. “I’ll go get changed” you state before grabbing something to dry yourself with and head up to change into some swimwear.

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After you had changed you were chilling in your room while scrolling through your phone for a bit. You heard the others messing around outside before they also came in to change. You were braiding your hair as you heard the boys karaoking downstairs. Chuckling, you finish braiding your hair before you rush downstairs in your swimming clothes which are similar to Sunoo’s except your top is a dark blue color. Rushing downstairs you go to join singing but stop in your tracks as you see that the rest of your members have arrived. You immediately almost burst out laughing seeing how half asleep they are. Jungwon in excitement begins to give the others a tour of the place as you stay downstairs and converse with Sunoo, finding out that he was pushed into the pool earlier by Jay and laughing at how he tells the story to you.

Once everyone gathers outside, you’re immediately in the pool attempting to do a handstand underwater as Jay is living his aerobic swimmer fantasies. Sunoo is in the water and immediately begins to mess with Jay as he swims underwater. They play as you swim back and forth in the pool, you’ve always found the water to be relaxing. Deciding to lay on a floatie you peacefully lay there as you drift around calmly in the water. You hear Heeseung playing basketball, Jungwon, Jay, and Sunoo playing and splashing each other, pushing each other into the water. After living with all of the guys for so long, it's become easy to block their loud yells out, and you begin to drift into a light sleep as you lay your head onto the floatie.

Hearing a bunch of splashing brings you out of your sleep and you shoot up as you see them all jumping in, causing your floatie to almost tip over. Raising your head up you look and see everyone is in the pool and your eyes widen. When did everyone decide to get in? Shrugging slightly you continue to float on your floatie as you watch niki do flips into the pool, and enjoy seeing everyone having a good time. Flipping off of your floatie you swim underwater before approaching Jake from underneath. Jumping out of the water right in front of him you attempt to scare him, startling him as he tries to back away from your sudden appearance. Everyone laughs and he chuckles before splashing some water at you, before continuing to float around on the donut floatie. Swimming you approach Niki as you’ve barely interacted with him since he came and begin to splash him before running away, you both laugh as he tries to get revenge before getting on the shark floatie with you pushing him.

Eventually, everyone begins to play together, everyone underwater as you all participate in a breath holding challenge. However as everyone goes face down into the water, you plug your nose and go under, but keep your eyes above to watch everyone. Seeing Sunoo begin to drift and grip the wall, you almost laugh before seeing Jay rise. Sunoo quickly rises after and laughs at how they’re the first ones to lose before they notice you. They immediately notice you with your eyes above the water and begin laughing. “Hey, isn’t that cheating?” Jay suspects as he looks to Sunoo for confirmation. He just laughs before Jake rises, from the water, disappointed that he wasn’t first place. Still holding your breath, with your mouth underwater as your eyes still watch everyone else, you manage to keep holding your breath. Honestly it wasn’t very hard… however an idea struck you. You and Sunoo were honestly like telepathically linked, and you gave him a mischievous look, one he recognized well. Sunoo smirks and begins to climb out of the pool,“Let’s go wash up.” He states quickly, and like the flash, all three of them were rushing inside with you deciding to give up the contest and run after them, forgetting that you didn’t actually have your own shower to use whenever you wanted.

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As the other members in the pool celebrate holding their breath for a long time, their victory is short lived. “The other’s went inside to go wash up” Jungwons eyes widened, and Niki realized that his victory was in vain. He lets out a whine before plummeting into the water, pretending he was dead. Heeseung and Sunghoon laugh at his reaction, even though they were also disappointed that they would be showering last. Jungwon shakes his head at the camera, “It was Y/n’s idea huh?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. They quickly furrow when they tell him it was Sunoo, each of the other members in the pool’s eyes widened. “Oh no! She’s rubbing off on him” they exclaim, knowing that you were always playing some sort of shenanigans. Niki slaps the water and quickly jumps out of the pool, running into the house. The others in the water laugh, knowing he was probably going to go bother you for ruining his victory.

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As you prepare your shower, the door to your personal room was locked. Gathering your pajamas and skincare before you get into the shower, you sing to yourself quietly before falling to the floor in fear as someone begins to pound on your door. All your items fly into the air as the door shakes, and you feel the vibrations on the floor. “Yah, you scared me!!!” You shout while trying to peek under the door to see who it is. “I was supposed to shower first, I won! But because of YOUR influence, I have to wait now!” Niki taps a foot angrily on the floor and you almost laugh out loud at how silly it looks from the sliver of space you can see under the door. You laughed, imagining what his face might look like right now and are practically wheezing. He always looked cute when he was angry. “I’ll let you use mine after I’m done!” you shout as you enter your bathroom.

Unknown to you, Niki stands at your door defeated. He slumps over, and his head hits your door and he stands there for a while before he runs suddenly. Now it was time for Sunoo to be bothered as he showered.

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This one is a lot shorter and probably less interesting than my last post but I tried to write something. I also didn’t proofread, so sorry if there are any mistakes. Also I’m trying to get better at making my posts better looking. If you have any suggestions on something I should write, let me know and I'll see what I can do! :)

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