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tlou-reid · 6 months

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!smut, mdni!

thinking about spencer reid who has had a crush on the pretty BAU agent at the desk across from him ever since she started. she has been so swamped with work and paperwork and life recently and spencer notices the small changes in her behaviors because he notices every little thing about her. he sees the tighter grip she holds on her pens, making the ink bleed through the paper just slightly. he notices the way she starts to slam her coffee cup on the desk as opposed to gently sitting it down. he notices the heavy uptick of the amount of cups she’s having.

and it’s worse when they’re given a case. naturally, since they get along so well and since they’re probably the two smartest people in the world, hotch pairs spencer and his crush up throughout their time in phoenix, arizona. spencer sees the way she’s always cracking her knuckles and rubbing at the small of her back. he hear the tone in which she talks to the officers.

so, when they’ve finally caught their unsub just 6 days later, spencer makes sure to pick up her case files before she can even make it from her hotel room. he tucks them neatly under him as he sits down on the jet, carefully hiding them from her. he holds them hostage, knowing if she doesn’t see them, she won’t worry about them. out of sight, out of mind, as they say. she falls asleep quickly in the seat across from spencer. he can’t help but ogle at her beautiful sleeping form, knowing she really needs the rest.

and, once they returned to the musty bullpen that belongs to the BAU, spencer stays with her. he watches as she starts the paperwork he’d sneakily put on her desk, not letting her catch on to the fact that he’d taken it. he tries his best to focus on his own work, but the way she keeps groaning as she rolls her head back has him completely distracted. he’s barely three pages in when hotch emerges from his office, bidding both of them a goodbye and complimenting their work on the case

that just leaves spencer and the pretty agent across from him in the space.

time moves slower now, spencer thinks, which makes it even more agonizing to listen to her try to work out her over-exhausted muscles by herself. he can’t help himself as he breaks the comfortable silence that had been established.

“hey, y/n,” he inquires, knowing she probably doesn’t want to be disturbed right now. his suspicions prove to be true when she doesn’t look up, letting out a less than enthusiastic “hm?”.

“do you know the benefits of getting a massage?” this piques her interest, wondering where spencer was going to take this. sure, the recent stress in her life had her muscles aching at every hour of the day, but she didn’t think anyone had picked up on it. “i know the basics, spence.” she giggles, finally looking over at him.

he can’t dwell on the fact that this is the first time she’s smiled in about two weeks because his brain starts moving too fast for his mouth to keep up, “yeah, most people know they helps with muscle aches but they actually have a lot of benefits. massages help improve circulation and joint mobility. there’s also research that connects them to cosmetic effects, like improved and more even skin tones.”

he doesn’t expect her to still be paying attention to him, but he’s pleasantly surprised at the small smile spreading across her face. “hm, that sounds amazing. if only i wasn’t trapped here doing paperwork at almost three in the morning.” she answers sarcastically, turning back to her work. “i could give you a massage.” spencer stumbles out.

her cheeks start to heat up as she makes eye contact with him, wondering where he would take this. “i mean,” he backtracks, “i’ve read books on how to do shoulder and back massages. my eidetic memory means i could probably do an almost perfect one, if you’re interested. i’ve noticed the way you’ve been struggling with muscle aches.”

her face feels like it’s on fire with the way he’s making her blush. “um, sure, spencer, if you don’t mind.” she stutters and stumbles as she tries to accept his offer. he excitedly pushes himself of his hair, pulling up a closer one behind her.

his large hands start to knead at the knots at the base of her neck. he can feel the tension she’s built up over the past couple of weeks and tries to recall the techniques he’d read about so long ago.

this quickly becomes a challenging feat, as he moves his hands along the expanse of her back. she lets out light moans when he massages a particularly tight part of her muscle. the moans and grunts she’s making are going right to spencer’s cock. he’s so glad he’s behind her, because the tent in his pants continues to grow as he reaches the base of her back, where most of her pain had been.

her light moans have now increased in volume, and spencer is sure he should stop. he was not expecting to have this reaction from her, or react this way to her. his mind is cloudy and beginning to fill with filthy images that match the sounds she’s making now.

and god, he should stop. he knows he should pull his hands away from her, especially as he feels his stomach tighten and his dick throb in his pants. but he can’t. he needs to reach his release so bad, so he presses his fingers harder into her back, listening to the joyful sounds she’s letting out.

he doesn’t pull his hands away until he finally cums in his pants, too embarrassed to keep going. “thank you, spence. i feel a lot better. a lot less tense now.” she thanks him as he turns away from her, pushing in the chair he’d pulled over. he makes a few exclamations, saying it was no problem at all, before dashing off to the bathroom to try and get himself cleaned up.

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simpforrooster · 10 months

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heard it all.

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x f!Reader

summary: reader vents to mav and penny about her feelings for a certain mustached fighter pilot. a/n: my take on a request from @kpopgirlbtssvt. i latched on to one part of the request and took off. i hope you still like it!

"What's going on in that head of yours?" the low voice of Maverick pulls you from your thoughts.

"Hmm, I don't know what you're talking about," you reply, continuing on without another thought.

"You've been wiping down that same spot of the bar for ten minutes."

Maverick and Penny, your boss, exchange a knowing glance. You look at the rag in the hand as if seeing it for the first time.

"I think it's plenty clean, y/n," Penny comments, winking at Mav.

Placing a hand on your hip, you stare the two of them down. "What are you two silently saying to one another?"

Penny shrugs a shoulder. "Oh nothing." You can see it in her eyes though. She knows exactly what has your brain all a-mush.

More like who.

Bradley Bradshaw.

The Hawaiian shirt wearing aviator.

The hot Hawaiian shirt wearing aviator.

He captured your heart the first day you met him. Sure, his looks were what drew you to him initially. But he was so nice. Like green flags all around.

You shake your head at the two people who have become a pseudo family to you. Tossing the rag onto the counter, a sigh escapes your mouth.

"Y'all just give it up. We're just friends." Your voice breaks on the word friends, and your eyes squeeze shut to hide your embarrassment.

"Come on," Penny starts.

Holding up a hand, you stop her. "Penny, please. It already hurts enough. He's the nicest, sweetest guy I've ever met."

Your chest heaves as you breath through your emotions.

"I have never met another man like him. He makes me feel seen. He makes me feel beautiful."

Maverick makes a move like he is going to say something, but Penny lays a hand on his arm, stopping him.

"And as if the silly little age difference isn't enough, he only sees me like a sister." A tear falls along your cheek, surprising you. Of course, you've grieved the non-relationship before. It isn't out of the norm to sob into your wine glass with Phoenix.

It's the first time you've ever cried in front of Penny and Mav.

The sound of a clearing throat has your spinning around.

Rooster looks at you, his brows knit together. You can't read the look on his face, but it can't be good. It tells you everything you need to know.

He heard it all.

And he doesn't feel the same.

Reaching up to sloppily wipe your tears, you tried to step around him, mumbling something so incoherent you can't decipher the words.

Rooster's strong arms reach out and stop you in your tracks.

"I can promise you I do not see you as a sister," he says, his voice low.

Not that you try, but words refuse to come out your mouth. How could they? The way he's staring at you has your heart beating in overdrive.

"Did you really mean all that?" he asks. His eyes roam over your face, searching for something. It takes you a second to realize he looks a little scared.

Scared of being rejected.

Bradley doesn't like you back. There's no way. He's had plenty of opportunities to make a move and hasn't.

He takes one step closer to you, the soles of your shoes meeting.

"Of course, Bradley." The sentence comes out barely a whisper, but he heard it. His hand snakes around your neck and settles into your hair. "Why wouldn't I be madly in love with you?"

A delicious groan escapes from his mouth before he closes the space between you. His lips meet yours and suddenly the Earth moves beneath your feet as the planets snap into alignment.

Bradley's lips are finally on yours, and it feels every bit as right as you imagined.

He pulls back so his mouth is feather light against yours. "Sweetheart, I am wildly in love with you." The words fall on your ears in soft whispers. Your eyes fall closed to relish in the way all this feels.

Bradley brings his mouth back to yours, pulling you tight against him. Your height difference has never been more apparant that right this second.

"Okay, okay, get a room," Maverick calls, followed by a, "Oof," as Penny's arm comes into contact with his solid stomach.

a/n: i hope y'all enjoy this one! i've been struggling with a little bit of writer's block.

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick fic #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #bradleybradshaw #bradley x reader

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roosterforme · 1 year

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Midnight Confessions | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It's getting harder and harder for Bradley to hide his feelings for you, especially when you offer to drive him home on his birthday. Before he knows it, he's drunk in your passenger seat, confessing everything he's kept to himself. He may not remember all of it in the morning, but you certainly do.

Warnings: Fluff, drinking and swearing

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

"Hey, Midnight!" Phoenix called across the bar as she grinned up at Bradley. "Can you come here?" Bradley watched you turn away from Omaha and head in his direction with a smile on your face and a beer in your hand.

"What are you doing, Nat?" Bradley muttered to his friend, trying not to stare at you as you walked over to him. The last thing Bradley wanted was to get a little bit of attention from you now just to have to watch you and Omaha laughing together all night.

"I'm giving you exactly what you want for your birthday," Nat replied with a devilish smirk.

"Please don't," Bradley groaned, but you were already there, in his personal space. "Midnight," he said with a nod in your direction.

"Happy Birthday, Rooster," you whispered with a laugh, kissing his cheek so quickly he thought he had imagined it. "Next drink is on me." He swallowed hard, swirling the ice from his whiskey and Coke around in his glass. "Looks like I was just in time," you said, plucking the glass from his hand and heading for the bar.

"You're cruel," Bradley told Phoenix as soon as you were going. "You're evil, and I wish I never told you I have a thing for Midnight."

Nat rolled her eyes so hard Bradley was honestly afraid she wouldn't be able to see as well to fly ever again. "You think you're a locked box or something? You're transparent to me, Bradshaw. Literally an open book. As soon as Midnight showed up at Top Gun, I had your number. She's cute, she's smart, and she flies exactly like you do."

He watched you at the bar, and of course fucking Omaha was right there with you once again, his hand resting on your lower back. "I fucking hate him."

Nat snorted. "Omaha? You never used to have an issue with him before," she said, eyeing Bradley with an amused look.

"He's annoying," Bradley said lamely. "And he's got nothing going for him except for that jawline."

"Hmm," Nat hummed, shaking her head and scrutinizing him. "He's got pretty eyes too. And nice teeth. And his hair is actually similar to yours."

Bradley grunted and tried to ignore the scene at the bar while he picked up some darts. It was his birthday. He should be having a good time. He sighed and threw three darts in a row before Hangman joined him. And then he remembered why he never played darts when Jake hit three bullseyes in a row.

"Happy birthday," Hangman drawled with a lazy grin.

Bradley was saved from having to respond when you placed your hand on his forearm and handed him a fresh drink.

"Thanks," he told you, taking the opportunity to look at your face for a few seconds longer than he normally would. Big mistake. You got his heart rate going and made him feel speechless, and you weren't even doing anything.

"So, what does the birthday boy have planned for the rest of the night?" you asked, staying with him even though Omaha was hanging around.

"Oh, probably just getting blackout drunk and trying to forget that I have feelings," he replied casually, taking a sip of his drink.

"Yeah, I've tried that," you responded just as casually. "It doesn't work."

"Shit," he replied with a laugh.

"Yeah," you said, leaning in a little closer. "But I have a better idea."

Bradley shook his head and grinned. "No. Don't you remember? Penny said she'd kick us out if we played strip pool again."

You started laughing, and the sound of it this close up made him feel a little smug. Take that, Omaha.

"I swear, all it took was getting Bob to take his shirt off, and Penny looked like she was going to murder us," you said, still laughing brightly as you took him by the hand. "But we can play regular pool, if you want."

Bradley would have followed you anywhere. And then you were lacing your fingers with his, just so briefly, before letting go of him to grab two pool cues. And Bradley ended up playing with you as his partner while his friends handed him drink after drink. You were pretty good at pool, but he was better, and the two of you were unbeatable. Plus, this gave Bradley an excellent opportunity to stand very close to you and whisper in your ear.

"Nah," he whispered as you bent down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear before he pulled back a little. He thought he heard you sigh as he said, "Go for the corner pocket with the nine ball."

"Okay," you agreed, and Bradley got to watch you beat Omaha and Hangman. And that was really all the birthday present he needed tonight. But then you jumped up and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Smoked those losers!" you said loudly, and this time you had Bradley laughing. Then his hand settled around your waist, and as soon as he felt your denim jeans against his fingers, he had to back up a step. You just smiled and turned to re rack the balls.

Bradley didn't notice it at first, but after another two hours, he was definitely drunk.

"Give me your keys," Nat told him around eleven o'clock as she held out her hand.

Bradley had to lean against the pool table while he dug around in his pocket to get his keyring out. He watched with unfocused eyes as she removed his Bronco key and handed him the remaining house key on the keychain that said I'M SO FLY.

"How am I gonna get home?" he asked Nat, leaning in a little closer to try to focus. "Nat, I'm too fucked up to even use a ride app."

She smiled and patted his cheek. "Midnight offered to drive you."

"No!" he groaned. "Nat. You can't do this to me."

"Happy birthday," she crooned, disappearing off into the crowd with his key, leaving him holding a pool cue as you approached him again.

"Why don't you finish your drink, and I'll drive you home?" you asked with a smile so pretty on your lips, he was just dying to kiss you.

He realized he was staring at you now, but he couldn't figure out how to control his body and turn away. Riding in your car with you right now was going to be a disaster. He just fucking knew it. And now he was still staring at you as your smile grew. He would do anything to be able to look away, but now you were giggling, and my god, Bradley just loved that sound. But he tried so hard to look away until you bit your lip and reached out to touch his forearm again, and then he knew he wasn't going to be able to look away from your face ever again no matter what.

"Fuck," he grunted, wondering who had let him drink this much.

You were rubbing your fingers along his arm, and Bradley's brain helpfully informed him that he could have a boner right now, no problem.

"Fuck," he repeated. But you were still smiling.

"You are so drunk right now," you said softly, shaking your head. "Your cheeks are beat red. You look adorable."

"You're adorable," he whispered, and your laugh was loud and bright.

"Okay, you just finish this, and I'll take you home whenever you want, birthday boy." You picked his drink up off the table and he took it from you before you turned away.

Oh. You had thought he was joking when he called you adorable. That was good, because he hadn't meant to say anything like that at all. Not out loud. He was going to have to hold his own damn mouth shut in your car.

He had no idea how long he had been standing there with his glass in his hand, but he was watching you talking to Omaha. Fuck that guy, for real. But he looked annoyed right now. Bradley liked that expression on Omaha's face. He also vaguely thought nobody should ever be looking at you with annoyance, because you were perfect.

Bradley took a few steps so he was closer to you, because he was drunk, and going home sounded like a good idea. Then he heard Omaha.

"What do you mean you're taking Rooster home? Like you're taking him to your house?"

You replied right away, and your voice sounded crisp. "He's drunk. It's his birthday. I offered to drive him home. To his house. You need to relax."

Bradley liked that tone of your voice when you were talking to Omaha. Especially when your eyes and voice softened as Bradley made his way over to you. "I'm ready to go, Midnight," he said, and you took his hand right away. Bradley shot Omaha a smug smile and saluted him like a real asshole, even though he knew nothing would ever happen with you. But the look he received from Omaha combined with his middle finger in the air had Bradley laughing.

"Did you have a fun night?" you asked, slipping your arm around Bradley's waist to help him walk. He probably looked like an idiot right now, but he didn't care.

"Yep," he replied. "Thanks for playing pool with me. And thanks for the drinks."

"Oh, it's no problem," you said. "I know you'll pay me back on my birthday."

Bradley draped his arm around your shoulders even though he firmly told himself not to. "I'll buy all your drinks on your birthday. All that microbrewed shit you like."

You laughed as you led him to your car and unlocked it. "Just get in, birthday boy."

"It's not my birthday anymore," he whispered. "It's midnight." And then he laughed and added, "Well, you're Midnight, actually." He groaned and ducked down into your car when you opened the passenger side door for him. "Just ignore me."

You leaned in and helped him get his seatbelt on. "Now that would be impossible, Rooster."

Your face was close to his, and you weren't moving. Why weren't you moving? You weren't drunk. You'd had one beer, hours ago. You should be moving away from him. "You okay?" you finally asked, patting his chest where the seatbelt crossed him.

"I like your face," Bradley told you, and then he wanted to disappear into thin air more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.

"Thanks," you whispered with a smile. "That's sweet. I'll take you home now, okay?"

Bradley just nodded and cradled his face in his hands as you shut the door and walked around your car. When you closed your door and started the engine, he dared to glance at you before turning to look straight ahead. He would be home soon. And he could climb in bed and this would all be over.

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

Bradley was drunk. You'd never seen his cheeks so rosy or heard his voice so raspy before. It was a cute look on him, even though he seemed pretty far gone. But teasing him a little bit was always fun, because you knew nothing would ever happen.

"I like your face, too," you told him as you backed out of the parking space. "It's a very nice one. Handsome."

Bradley groaned and gaped at you. "What the fuck, Midnight?"

"What?" you asked, glancing at him before you pulled out onto the street. "You're handsome. All you guys are."

"Fucking Omaha," Bradley muttered, and you laughed as he cross his arms.

"You don't like Omaha?"

Bradley scoffed. "Lieutenant Jawline? He can fuck right off."

You were now howling with laughter as you tried to make a left turn. "What does that make you then? Lieutenant Mustache?"

Bradley chuckled and tilted his head back. "I guess so. But that would make you Lieutenant Sexy Laugh and Beautiful Face."

You gasped and glanced at him as your belly swooped. He was flirting with you. But he was drunk. "That's too long to fit on my name tag."

"Baby, you're so perfect, you deserve two name tags. Maybe even three," he mumbled. "Maybe even a hundred name tags. I can think of a hundred different things I like about you."

You swallowed hard as you turned onto his street. After you had driven two blocks in a daze, you asked, "What's your house number?" You couldn't remember. You were having a hard time remembering anything. Because Bradley Bradshaw could think of a hundred different things he liked about you.

"I dunno," he groaned, pushing his fingers through his hair. "I can't remember anything except that time you wore shorts when we went to the beach and your bikini top was pink, and Nat made fun of me for being too embarrassed to tell you I think you're pretty."

You laughed softly as Bradley's eyes opened wide. "You are so drunk, Rooster! I can't believe we got you this drunk."

"I'm not that drunk," he muttered, turning in his seat to look at you as the light turned green.

"You don't even remember your house number!" you said, driving slowly down the street

"I think it has an eight in it."

You laughed and pulled over, turning to look at him. "Rooster, what am I supposed to do with you?"

His eyes were soft as he lazily searched your face. "I can think of a few things. They all involve your lips."

You were the one gaping now. His eyes were unfocused, and no matter how badly you wanted to feel his mustache against your skin, you kept yourself a few feet away from him. When he leaned in, you brushed your fingers through his hair to keep him from getting closer. "Rooster," you whispered as he melted into your touch. "Do you want me to just take you to my place?"

His eyes bugged out, and he started to stutter. "Shit, I, well... Midnight, I-I..."

You let yourself stroke your fingers through his hair for a few more seconds before you eased him back against the seat and pulled back away from the curb. "You can sleep it off at my place, and I'll take you back for your Bronco in the morning."

"Sleep? At your place? Of all the things I have imagined doing there, sleep was not one of them."

He was very clearly a mess at the moment, but you couldn't help yourself. "Oh really? What have you imagined?"

He groaned loudly, closing his eyes and rubbing his palms along his face. "Imagined kissing you after I took you out to dinner. Kissing you on your couch and in your bed. Imagined how good you must taste."

Then he was quiet. You thought he must have fallen asleep. And as you pulled up to park in front of your apartment, you couldn't believe you'd gone out on a date with Omaha and let Omaha kiss you when there might have been even the slightest possibility that Rooster wanted to do those things.

He was breathing softly now, his head resting on the window. When you got out and opened the passenger door slowly, he jolted awake and tried to climb out with the seatbelt still on him. You tried not to laugh, but it was just too funny.

"Sit back, Rooster," you whispered, and you leaned across his big, warm body to unbuckle him. Then you took him by the hand and laced your fingers with his. You loved the way his hands felt, so big and secure.

"That feels so nice," he murmured, pulling your hand against him. "Where are we going?"

He was trying to lead you away from your building, and you had to keep pulling him along with you. "Come this way, Rooster."

"Okay, baby. Whatever you want."

You just shook your head as you unlocked your building with his big body looming behind you. "I'm taking you to my apartment. You'll be fine, okay?"

"Mmhmm," he hummed, and you wrapped your arm around him to get him inside. He stumbled down the hallway to your door, and once he was inside, you took his hand again.

"Here's my bathroom," you said, turning on the light and leading him in. You dug around in one of the drawers and found an extra toothbrush. "You can use this. And the bedroom is next door."

"Thanks," he whispered, bending down to kiss you cheek softly. "Love you." You stood there stunned as Bradley turned toward your toilet and started to unzip his jeans.

Then you quickly darted out of the bathroom and closed the door. You were stuck somewhere between laughing and dying from shock. This is not what you had signed up for when you agreed to drive him home! But maybe it was even better. Or maybe it was a lot worse, and he didn't really feel this way at all.

When you heard the toilet flush, you headed to the kitchen and filled two glasses with water. You'd let him sleep in your bed and you'd crash on the couch. You were pretty sure he wouldn't even fit on the couch anyway. The couch he told you he had imagined kissing you on.

What was going on here?

The bathroom door opened, and you heard him say, "Midnight? I'm getting in bed."

"Okay," you replied with a laugh as you carried the waters into your bedroom. "I think you should drink this." He was wearing nothing except his boxer shorts, and your jaw dropped open. Because he was stunning. Big and muscular and fucking hot. "Water," you muttered, handing him a glass.

He downed the whole thing in one big gulp, and then he set the glass down, swaying on his feet. "I think I need to sleep."

You nodded at him, and he was reaching for your hand, and you had no idea what to do. "What do you want, Rooster?" you asked, but he was scooping you up into his arms.

"Sleep," he muttered.

"With me?" you gasped.

"Yep."

And a moment later, Bradley was behind you with his big arms wrapped around you, and he was sound asleep.

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

Before he even cracked his eyes open, Bradley knew he had a headache. So he just burrowed further into the soft, sweet smelling blanket. He knew this smell. It was familiar and comforting. When he gathered the blanket up and buried his nose in it, he realized it smelled like you.

His eyes were open then, even though his head was pounding. He had never been in the room before. But he was sure it was yours. And the spot in bed next to him was still warm.

"Oh no. Oh no," he groaned, covering his face with his hands. "What did you do?" Suddenly it was hard to breathe. He was in his underwear. In your bed. Hungover. Yesterday was his birthday. How did he even get here? He could remember playing pool with you at the Hard Deck, and then Nat took his key away. And... oh shit, he got in your car.

He was stumbling out of bed, looking for his clothing. He found his jeans and shirt neatly folded up on your desk chair. As quickly as he could, he pulled everything on and headed down the hallway.

You were in the kitchen, wearing shorts and a tank top, brewing coffee. You were perfect. Holy shit, you were everything. And he had already fucked this up.

"Midnight?" His voice was rough and raw, and when you turned to look at him with a gorgeous smile on your face, he thought he was going to throw up.

"Morning, Rooster. Sleep well?" you asked with a smirk. Bradley couldn't formulate solid thoughts. You were handing him a cup of coffee. You weren't wearing a bra. He had been in your bed with you, and he couldn't remember anything that happened.

"Did we hookup?" he blurted loudly, and you froze with the coffee mug in your hand. "Oh, shit, Midnight. Please tell me we didn't sleep together."

You no longer looked happy. But you were shaking your head with your eyes locked on his. "No," you whispered. "We didn't do anything."

As relief washed over Bradley, you turned away from him with the mug and looked out your kitchen window. "Thank goodness," he sighed.

"Yeah," you said softly. "That would have been terrible."

"Absolutely," he said, still catching his breath.

But now you didn't seem to want him around at all. "I'll call Nat and see if she can meet us with your key." You kept your back to him as you reached for your phone, and then Bradley closed the distance to you.

"Hey, Midnight?" he asked, taking your phone from your hand. You glanced at him over your shoulder with annoyance. "Thanks for driving me last night."

"No problem," you replied quietly, avoiding his eyes now.

"But why did you bring me here?"

You rolled your eyes. "You couldn't even remember your house number, and it was so dark, I couldn't tell which one was yours. Now let me take you back to your car, please?"

But then Bradley remembered telling you he could think of a hundred different things he liked about you. He remembered holding your hand and kissing your cheek.

You were walking across the kitchen away from him, but he chased you down, lacing his fingers with yours. You only looked slightly surprised. "Did I completely embarrass myself last night?" he asked.

Despite your best efforts, you were smiling at him again. "I thought you were pretty damn endearing, actually." You tried to pull your hand out of his grasp, but he held you tight.

"I can think of more than just a hundred things I like about you. So many more than that." He pulled you a little closer still. "You let me sleep in your bed with you?"

You sighed. "Don't worry, Rooster. We didn't hook up. We didn't even kiss. You just spooned me and passed out immediately."

Bradley groaned and tipped his head back. "I spooned you? I got to cuddle with you, and I don't even remember it? That's not fair!"

Another smile was dancing along your lips as you nodded. "You're really great at cuddling. Very warm." But then you bit your lip and looked at the floor. "Would it really have been so bad if we did more?"

"Yes!" he nearly shouted, and your startled eyes snapped up to his. "Baby, I want to remember that stuff in vivid detail!"

You laughed and now Bradley was smiling. And then you kissed him softly, and he thought his heart was going to pound out of his chest. "You said some crazy stuff last night while you were drunk," you whispered, but he kept you close to him.

"I am pretty sure it was all true," he promised you. "But I'd be more than happy to fact check with you."

"You said you like my face."

"That's a fact," he said, nodding.

"You said you wanted to do things with my lips."

"Oh, yeah. That's definitely a fact."

"You said you imagined taking me out to dinner and kissing me."

"Many times."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" you asked, sounding annoyed.

He kissed you again. "Fucking Omaha, baby. What's that all about?"

"Oh," you said softly. "That is something that is basically nothing. At least on my end of things. And I could happily put a stop to that."

"Like today?" he asked, running his lips along your neck.

"Like five minutes ago, Rooster."

Then you had your arms around his neck, and Bradley's hands were all over you. Your soft sigh as he kissed your lips had him scooping you up into his arms. "Can I have a do-over? Can we get back in your bed and cuddle?"

"Yes," you whispered as your mouth brushed his neck while your fingers went to his hair.

This time Bradley kept his clothes on, and when he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest, he laced his fingers with yours. "I like this. We should do this all the time."

"We will," you promised, and his lips and mustache found your neck as he buried his nose in your hair. "I hope you had a fun birthday."

He needed to remember to thank Nat for being a pain in his ass when he saw her later. "I did. But today is even better."

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

Midnight, you're so lucky, babe! Upgrading from Lieutenant Jawline to Lieutenant Mustache! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls for putting up with me.

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bussyslayer333 · 2 years

Text

All I want for Christmas (is you)

summary: some fortunately placed mistletoe forces bob to tell you how he truly feels.

pairing: robert floyd x best friend!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: smut, swearing, mentions of alcohol, slutshaming jake LOL, bob is a pussyeater™️ bc i said so

MDNI this is an 18+ fic

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Robert Floyd has been your closest friend for the past 2 years. You had been worried when you first moved to San Diego for a fresh start that it had been a horrible mistake, in fact you were sat in homesick tears at the beach when he stumbled upon you. Since that day he hadn’t really left your side, which is where he could be found currently.

You were both nursing an interesting mulled wine that Rooster had tried to brew for the team Christmas party. You weren’t quite sure why you were here since you didn’t work with said group of aviators who had become your closest friends but they had absolutely insisted.

The night had just started really, Penny was graciously hosting the gathering at the festively decorated Hard Deck which she had closed just for the team. You had begged her to let you help in some way since you were leaching on to their party so she had allowed you to help her decorate along with Mav and Rooster. The perimeter was surrounded in sparkly tinsel and fairy lights, there was a large tree in the corner of the room covered in mismatched baubles and a large piece of mistletoe hanging down in the other corner. You were still wary of Rooster’s mischievous giggles as he taped it up.

When the rest of the aviators had arrived along with the few higher ups Mav had invited they had all commended your decorating skills, especially Bob. He had told you very early on that Christmas was one of his favourite holidays, evident now by his gaudy (and most definitely itchy) Christmas sweater he was wearing.

“Baby on board, you’re gonna have to turn that shit off I’m pretty sure your interfering with some type of space station signal right now.”

Jake laughed, referring to the Christmas lights which actually lit up on Bob’s sweater. You jumped to his defence immediately,

“What are you even supposed to be? Slutty Santa? Tasteful.”

Phoenix snorted into her wine, though you weren’t sure if it was because she had accidentally swallowed a cinnamon stick again.

Jake smirked, “you want to come sit on my lap and find out?”

He gestured down to the tight black slacks he was wearing, it was paired with a very lowly buttoned up red silk shirt and a tiny Santa hat that had been placed on his head by Maverick upon his entrance.

You roll your eyes and don’t dignify him a response whilst everyone slowly resumes their previous conversation.

“Thanks darlin’.” Bob smiled down at you somewhat bashfully.

You giggle at him and flick the button on his sweater which changes the setting on the lights to fade in and out of their colours slowly.

“I love this sweater.”

“I know you do, that’s why I wore it.”

You look up to meet his eyes and he’s looking at you earnestly. You flush slightly but blame it on the drinks you’ve been consuming.

You’re snapped from his gaze when Fanboy announces loudly that he and Payback will be starting off karaoke.

Their rendition of ‘Baby it’s cold outside’ isn’t the worst thing you’ve ever heard, and Fanboy has a surprisingly high vocal range. Bob is snickering into your hair behind you, trying to appear encouraging for his fellow WSO but failing slightly.

“Bet you 50 that bagman is gonna sing Mariah.”

You turn, shocked at Bob’s admission, “no way! He’s gonna sing some Frank Sinatra classic in hopes that I’ll start swooning.”

Bob raises his eyebrows and sticks his hand out for you to shake. You hum, considering your options then finally give in, placing your hand in his. Bob notes how soft your hand is compared to his, he strokes your thumb slightly before letting go. The contact brings heat to your cheeks that you hope isn’t too visible.

“You’re on Robby.”

Bob’s lips quirk up at the nickname but he doesn’t mention it, and he stalks off to get himself another drink. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding as Phoenix approaches.

She has a sly smile on her face but still looks gorgeous nonetheless, she’s wearing an emerald satin top and black jeans. You go to complement her but she cuts in,

“You look gorgeous, I love this dress, when are you and Bob going to fuck?”

You’re still comprehending her comment about your dress before her full statement registers in your brain. You gawk at her for a second whilst she chuckles evilly.

“I- we’re not- Look me and Bob are just friends.”

She rolls her eyes, Phoenix has been your second closest friend since moving to San Diego. Her presence was always welcome and you usually adored her but you weren’t enjoying what she was currently insisting upon. And that wasn’t because it isn’t true, but more because you’re worried what will happen if you finally say it aloud.

“You are thinking so loudly right now.”

You shove her shoulder lightly, “He’s not interested in me.”

You look over to where Bob is stood at the bar, talking to a tall redhead. You think her name is Isla, she works in the control tower and to your knowledge was invited by Halo.

Phoenix laughs at your admission and wistful expression, “I cannot believe you’re this down bad for a man in a light up Christmas sweater. Also, he is head over heels for you.”

“I like his sweater!”

“You are the only one in here who thinks that.”

You hmph at Phoenix’s comment, “I bet she does as well.”

You gesture to the redhead who is now laughing heartily as Bob shows her the different settings on his sweater.

“Who? Halo’s girlfriend?”

You splutter slightly on your drink.“I thought she had a thing with that girl at work- ohhhhhhh.”

Phoenix scoffs slightly, “Glad to know you pay attention to the rest of us babe.”

“Shush, should I go talk to him?”

“You don’t need to.”

You look confusedly at Phoenix until you feel a familiar strong hand on your waist.

“I’m not interrupting am I?”

Phoenix answers for you, “Of course not, she’s all yours.”

With that, she winks and is off. You turn to face Bob, he’s significantly taller than you and it feels evident now even with your heels on. You’re craning your neck up slightly to make eye contact with him. You take a second to study how he looks, his cheeks are tinted slightly pink and his lips look incredibly soft, his blue eyes are dilated behind his glasses where his hair flops slightly down onto. He forwent the gel because he knows you like his hair in its natural state, even if it impairs his vision even more. He speaks up first,

“You look really beautiful tonight.”

You avert your eyes from his, aware of the rising colour in your cheeks.

“You think?”

You’re fiddling girlishly with the hem of your dress, it’s a babydoll style dress that always got you many compliments.

“I know.”

You can sense that Bob has something else he wants to say but he’s interrupted by Rooster announcing the next person to come and sing.

“Bagman, please take the stage.”

Jake grabs the mic off Bradley and you hear him mumble something about getting his callsign right. Bob’s hand is in yours and he’s pulling you over to the corner of the room furthest from the stage. You look at him questioningly and he’s explaining himself with a smirk on his face,

“I wanted to give you some privacy whilst you lose this bet.”

You smack his arm playfully,

“Shut up, you’re just embarrassed you’re wrong.”

“Sureee.”

Jake has finally finished his rambling and selects a song. You’re certain he’s gonna pick a Sinatra classic and wait for the opening notes to Have yourself a merry little Christmas. It’s safe to say you’re surprised when the familiar jingle of Mariah Carey starts up and Jake is already belting out the first notes. You look at Bob, accusatory,

“You’ve rigged this!”

Bob is doubled over laughing, you finally take your eyes off of him to turn around and huff. Which is when you notice your fortunate position. You and Bob are stood directly under Rooster’s mistletoe. You freeze slightly which catches Bob’s attention, he follows your eye line.

“Gosh, I promise I didn’t drag you over here just to kiss you!”

“Just?” You tease.

“No! I mean obviously I would love to kiss you but that’s not what i meant! I wouldn’t ever trick you into-”

You shut up his rambling my planting a kiss on his lips, they’re as soft as you imagined and he tastes sweet like the cinnamon in the wine. He kisses you back almost immediately and your lips mould together perfectly. You pull away first, noticing some of your lipgloss had transferred onto his slightly swollen lips.

“Woah.”

Bob’s exclamation makes you giggle, he’s gazing down at you in awe and you feel enclosed in a fuzzy bubble where it’s just the two of you. Hangman’s awful singing sounds light years away as well as the rest of the crowds cheers for him. Bob places one of his hands on your waist and the other he uses to lift up and brush a stray hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Can I kiss you again?” Bob whispers, ever the gentleman.

“I’d love you to.” You smile, leaning in.

You lips crash against each other again, with more vigour this time. Your hands rake through the hair at the back of his neck and he moans quietly into your mouth, giving you the initiative to slip your tongue into his mouth. He reciprocates your action, making you weak in the knees, unsteady in your heels. In the distance you hear Jake finishing up the last notes of Mariah Carey whilst everyone joins in at various different volumes. Bob pulls away and whispers into your ear,

“Do you think we could sneak out now?”

You go to protest, seeing as you haven’t been here long but see the lust blown look in his eyes and decide against it, instead nodding your head and slipping your hand into his. Bob drags you around the crowds to the exit of the Hard Deck. Before you can peacefully slip through the door you look back and catch Phoenix’s eye. She winks with a knowing smile and you giggle slightly. She was never wrong.

Finally leaving the Hard Deck you notice Bob is dragging you to his car,

“I’m only five mins away.” You smirk into his shoulder.

“Yours it is.”

The short drive to your house is tense, neither of you sure whether this was truly happening. Bob speaks up,

“As much as I want to fuck you, I can’t if it’s just gonna be a one time thing. I’ve been in love with you since the day we met. ”

You look to him and see how honest he looks, gnawing at his lower lip nervously, your heart races at his admission. You smack his arm in annoyance.

“Ow!”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner!” You urge him, “I’ve been yours this whole time. All you had to do was tell me you’re mine.”

Bob looks down at you with such love in his eyes it’s hard to imagine that you just smacked the shit out of him. You’re pulling up to the outside of your cottage when he finally speaks up.

“I’m yours.”

You smash your lips again his for the third time this night with even more urgency, but you pull away even quicker, wary of your nosy middle aged neighbours.

Once your front door is closed, Bob’s hands are all over you. He’s lifting the hem of your dress to your waist and grabbing at the exposed skin. You let out slightly pathetic whimpers as his kisses make their way down your neck, chest and stomach.

“Never stop making those sounds for me darlin’.”

You whimper at the pet name, satiating him. His kisses reach your lower stomach where he finally stops to admire your panties. They’re cherry red, lacy, and don’t leave much to the imagination. He groans at the sight, making you flush even further whilst he toys with the little bow at the top.

“Can I?” He gestures downwards.

“Please.” You whine.

Bob’s nimble fingers are hooking under the sides of your panties and he pulls them down to your ankles swiftly. He helps you step out of them, removing your heels along the way. You watch as he pockets the panties with a smile on his face and he quirks an eyebrow. Bob’s staring at your bare pussy like a man starved but you can’t help but giggle.

“Are you seriously about to eat me out wearing a light up Christmas sweater?”

Instead of dignifying you with an answer, Bob licks a fat stripe in between your folds, hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder and forcing you to lean back against your entry way wall.

“Fuck, yeah okay then.” You whimper breathlessly.

Bob seems pleased with your reaction as he continues his ministrations, now kitten licking at your clit. You can feel the cool edges of his glasses hitting your lower stomach and your whole body feels alight with need for the man in front of you. He moves his tongue down to your entrance and dips it in slightly, his nose nudging at your clit. You moan out at the contact, spurring him on further. Bob’s tongue is fucking in and out of you, each time his nose brushes against your clit making you even weaker beneath his touch. Your hands are curled tight in his hair as you feel yourself getting closer and closer.

“Fuck don’t stop, please Robby.”

Bob looks up at you from his position on his knees making you whine much louder than you should have. His hand moves down from its solid grip on your thigh to circle at you clit in tight circles. You’re moaning freely now, hips bucking up erratically. Bob can feel you’re close and he quickens his actions just enough to make you become even more high pitched as you reach you peak. Pleasure washes over you and Bob pulls his tongue away from you to watch you spasm.

“You taste so good darlin,” Bob whines, almost as breathless as you.

You can see your wetness around his mouth and his hard cock straining against his jeans.

“You’re incredible.” You simper, pulling Bob to his feet.

He pulls your lips together, making you moan at the taste of you on his tongue. Pulling away to look up at him, you finally rid yourself of your dress, pulling it up and over your head and dropping it to the floor beside you. You had forgone a bra whilst getting ready, so you stood bare in front of the still fully clothed Bob.

“God,” Bob groans, “You’re fucking amazing.”

“Robert! Your language is dreadful.” You giggle playfully.

He reaches for your hand and brings it down to his aching cock. It twitches beneath your palm which is significantly smaller than his,

“It’s just what you do to me.” He breathes into the side of your neck.

You pull away from him and turn around, making your way to the stairs that lead to your bedroom. Bob watches your figure retreat, focusing his eyes in on the way your hips sway and your ass moves as you walk. You turn your head to the side and beckon for him,

“You coming, Robby?”

Bob is hurriedly ridding himself of his sweater and jeans as he replies,

“Hopefully.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: CHRISTMAS BOB MY LOVE!!!! there will be more christmas fics for sure bc i am a festive gal tbh. lew lew loml

this is low-key self indulgent af sorry HEHEH

pls comment and reblog or send me an ask and tell me what u think !!

ty for readinggggg :)

- honey <333

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vivalas-vega · 1 year

Text

shot through the heart / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader

i guess i only know how to write and post at 3 am lol -- I saw a few prompts on a post i reblogged a few days ago and got inspired to write this !!! i hope you all like it and as always let me know what you think !!!

shot through the heart / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader

add yourself to my taglist

prompts: “looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…” - “you’re pretty” “you’re drunk”

word count: 3.5k

warnings: drinking, language, a lil makeout sesh

The energy in the air was infectious, nothing but laughter and love filling the space while the alcohol flowed freely. Your feet ached beneath you as you danced and sang along to an early 2000’s classic, smirking as your teammates watched through impressed eyes as you seamlessly balanced on one foot to unfasten your heel before switching to the other without missing a word or a beat and tossing them nowhere in particular. You took Rooster’s outstretched hands and swayed your hips in rhythm with his, you weren’t even sure what you were all doing at this point could be considered singing, but you were doing it anyway, spurred by the open bar and overwhelming joy in the room.

“Don’t be fooled by the rocks that I got, I’m still I’m still Jenny from the Block!” you sang around your laughter as Rooster passed you to Phoenix and from the corner of your eye you could see the man of the hour and his bride coming to join you. Mindful of her train you twirled her around in circles before she tried to drop it low the best she could in her form fitting gown.

“Careful, Mrs. Machado, don’t tempt me,” you giggled as you passed her back to her now-husband, slipping away from the group and making your way to the bar where Penny was sitting alongside Maverick.

“Not tending bar and yet here I find you,” you teased as you ordered another paloma.

“You all wore me out, I don’t know how any of you are still dancing,” she laughed and Maverick nodded in agreement.

“Oh, can’t handle a little dancing, Mav? Thought you were better than that,” you shot back and he laughed.

“Just you wait,” he warned before you went back to the floor, standing on the fringe as you watched your friends… no, your family having the time of their lives with the biggest smile on your face.

“Taking a breather?” A voice said suddenly beside you and you looked up to find Hangman, that megawatt smile never leaving his face once today.

“Refueling, I made this playlist and there are some good ones coming up,” you said before taking a hearty sip of your drink.

“Hey, you can only take half-credit,” he said, narrowing his eyes down at you and you just waved your hand in his direction.

“You contributed nothing but distractions,” you joked, recalling the night you two had set aside some time to tackle your task from the bride and groom.

“That’s enough Taylor Swift,” Hangman groaned and you just shook your head.

“It’s a wedding, Hangman. There’s never too much Taylor. Besides, these are requests directly from the bride, I’m just fulfilling my duties.” The bride was your best friend Abby, your biggest cheerleader and confidant from elementary school days, no matter the station or deployment your friendship had never wavered and when you met Coyote upon your return to Top Gun you knew without question you needed to get the two of them together.

“Okay, well this has to be on the playlist…” he said, trailing off as You Give Love a Bad Name poured through your bluetooth speaker and you just shook your head as Hangman started bobbing his head along and singing with such conviction you were sure he thought he was Bon Jovi himself. You couldn’t stifle your laughter watching as he stood and walked around the coffee table, giving you a performance worthy of the biggest of stages. You tried to fight it, you really did, but you loved this song just a little bit more than you wanted to rain on Hangman’s parade. Soon you were dancing around your living room with him, shouting lyrics and laughing until your sides ached.

It felt like fate… if you believed in that sort of thing, and you weren’t sure if you did but suddenly Bon Jovi was belting through the speakers and Hangman was giving you that same look he had that night, challenging you as he started to back up slowly with his hands up as if to say ‘you coming?’ Of course you were. You downed the rest of your drink, casting it aside on a nearby table and chasing after him. The two of you danced around each other, in your own little bubbles as you let loose and enjoyed the song yet somehow still completely in sync, turning to face each other at the exact same moment to shout ‘shot through the heart and you’re to blame, you give love a bad name’ before letting out loud laughs and continuing to move to the beat.

The entire squad had their eyes on you, their movements slowing as they watched the two of you so wrapped up in your own world, not paying attention to anyone but the other and once they broke through the shock of seeing you this way they were grateful. You and Hangman never really got along, not necessarily adversaries but definitely not friends either. They’d all assumed you’d become attached at the hip with your mutual love for classic rock, borderline obsessional investment in professional sports and similar skill set at a pool table but you just weren’t. You never really clicked. In the air you were consistently in tandem, the only person on the team he actually worked well with but once you touched down on the tarmac it was awkward exchanges and minimal interaction at the Hard Deck. It wasn’t until that night in your living room after a few too many glasses of wine and an impromptu dance party that you finally connected.

“Oh god, I love this song,” you said breathlessly as it morphed into ‘Autumn Town Leaves’ by Iron & Wine, flowing through the space and he just grinned down at you.

“You did pick it,” he said and he held out his hand for you to take. “Dance with me?”

“What have we been doing all this time?” you asked with a playful smirk and he just rolled his eyes before taking your hand for himself and pulling you into him. Earlier in the day you didn’t feel quite so small beside him… not when he clinked his beer bottle against yours in a pre-ceremony toast, not when you walked down the aisle as maid of honor and best man, not when he stood to steady you after your heel almost slipped off the edge of the raised platform during your speech but standing here now, easily swaying to the beat with your hand firmly in his grasp and the other around your waist you felt so small, so vulnerable under his gaze.

“You look like you’ve been having a lot of fun tonight, I’m glad,” he observed, pulling his eyes from yours to look around the space for a moment. “You did all of this, it’s impressive. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to pull off her casual and intimate vibe in this setting.” You really did have your work cut out out for you, with the knowledge of a sudden deployment always looming you’d rushed to pull everything together when you knew everyone could be there, leaving you closely monitoring (harassing, as Hangman would call it) a few local venues before snagging a rather fancy ballroom in a beautiful beachfront hotel thanks to a last minute cancellation. With the majority of the lights turned off, a hell of a lot of string lights, and carefully curated décor you’d managed to pull it all together. “You did good, kid.” You flushed under his praise, not entirely sure how to handle it.

“I wanted them to have the wedding they deserve,” you said softly, peering around his shoulder to watch the couple wrapped up in complete bliss as they danced a few feet away.

“Well, the way I see it, this reception is for you. A celebration for all your hard work.”

“You didn’t do so bad yourself, best man. Thank you for helping when I needed it,” you replied and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, drawing your eyes down before you forced them upwards.

“Thanks for asking, thought I was going to have to force you to delegate,” he teased, twirling you out and away from him before pulling your chest into his back, arms wrapped around you as your hands flew up to brace yourself, gripping onto his forearm.

“I know how to delegate,” you protested and you felt him rumble with laughter behind you.

“No, sweetheart… you don’t,” he twirled you again, bringing you face-to-face again as the song ended and switched to something more upbeat but you felt trapped, not wanting to let go of his hand, not wanting him to remove his from your waist.

“I, uh,” you stumbled over your words as you realized your position under the weight of his gaze. “I have something I need to grab for Abby before they slip off for the night.” you said as you pulled away and made your way to where you’d been with Rooster and Phoenix earlier, looking for your shoes.

“Everything okay?” Rooster asked, watching as you frantically searched under tables and cursing yourself for being so careless with where you’d put them.

“Yeah, uh… just need my shoes. Have a feeling a place like this would frown upon me stomping around the common areas barefoot,” you replied.

“You and Hangman are very chummy tonight,” he stated and you looked up briefly to glare at him.

“I don’t know what you’re- it’s wedding politics. The best man and maid of honor are like… I don’t know, a team for the whole wedding,” you shot back and he let out a loud laugh.

“Slow dancing and that little Bon Jovi moment, which by the way felt like some kind of inside joke and was very alienating and uncomfortable to be around, is not politics but, whatever you say,” he sighed, grabbing your shoes from under a nearby table and handing them to you and you took them before all but running out of the ballroom and into the brightly lit lobby of the hotel. All of your earlier coordination was lost as you struggled to balance while fastening your heels and waiting for the elevator to arrive, stumbling in when the doors opened, letting out a sigh of relief as you leaned against the back wall.

“Oh, for the love of-” you muttered when a hand stuck through at the last moment, prompting the doors to reopen seconds before they’d shut as Hangman slid in and stood before you with a confused look on his face.

“You good?” he asked, looking you up and down and noting your slightly dejected posture in stark contradiction to how exuberant you’d been all night.

“Yeah, just a last minute bridal present… don’t want to forget it,” you answered, wanting him to drop it and get off on the next floor.

“You sure? You seem off,” he pressed and you looked up at him with annoyance.

“I’m fine, Hangman,” you said just as the elevator shuddered beneath you and your hands flew out to grip the metal bar behind you as it sputtered to a halt. The harsh lighting cut out, leaving you in complete darkness for a few minutes before fluorescent emergency lights flickered on with a faint buzz. “No… no, no, no this is not happening.” you groaned, stepping forward to press the call button to the front desk, listening to it ring and ring before disconnecting. In your periphery you watched Hangman slide down the wall and stretch his legs out before him, patting the space beside him and you sank to the floor with a sigh.

“Looks like we’re trapped,” he stated and you turned to look at him with annoyance for the most obvious observation.

“What gave you that impression?” you asked with an eye roll and he shrugged beside you.

“Someone will notice we’re gone soon, we’ll try the call button again in a few minutes… they probably just went to break,” he said, trying to diffuse the tension.

“No, they’ll probably think I went to pass out somewhere and you snuck off with one of the other bridesmaids that have been ogling you all evening.” you said with thinly veiled contempt for your fellow bridal party and he chuckled.

“Aren’t they supposed to be your high school friends too?” he asked and you just shook your head.

“I love Abby, I really do but… they’re her friends from the cheer team and I didn’t know why she was friends with them then and I don’t know why she’s friends with them now.”

“Were you not a cheerleader?” he teased.

“Are you really asking me that?” you asked and he laughed, nodding his head in agreement.

“Yeah, definitely not the type.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You knew you had insinuated it first but you suddenly felt offended.

“You said it!” he defended, shooting his hands out in disbelief.

“You didn’t have to agree with me!”

“Do you want me to think of you as the cheerleading type?” he asked and this stumped you.

“Well, no, but-”

“Then why are we arguing?”

“I don’t know, I just… we’re in this fucking tiny metal death trap just waiting to plunge to our deaths so perhaps I’m a little on edge,” you sighed.

“We fly around in cramped cockpits and dodge literal missiles for a living and this is what has you rattled?” he asked as if it was the silliest thing in the world, and really it was.

“At least in my cramped cockpit I have the canopy, I can see all the open air around me and I’m in control. Here I am at the mercy of some bottle blonde at the front desk sticking around to do her job long enough to get us out of here.”

“Have faith in the bottle blonde,” he chuckled and you leaned your head back against the wall. Silence settled over the two of you and you tried to ignore the way his eyes trailed over you… something they’d been doing a lot more recently. Until that night with the wedding playlist you weren’t even certain he noticed you… and frankly you didn’t really notice him either. Even over surface level conversations when you were left alone by the rest of your friends you often felt like he was looking right through you, but you never cared because your eyes were always darting around looking for somebody else but now you felt undeniably seen by him and you didn’t like the way it prickled your spine and sent a wave of warmth flooding through your chest and flushed your cheeks. You didn’t like the way his hand felt against your waist and you definitely didn’t like how weightless you felt when he twirled you around. You also didn’t like the fact that those were all lies. “You’re very deep in thought,” he said suddenly, pulling you from your daze.

“I’m not,” you replied softly and he subtly nodded, eyes still trained on you and your heart beat out of rhythm for a moment when they locked with yours. He looked as if he was about to say something, like it was right there on the tip of his tongue with that mischievous glint in his eyes and you cocked your head slightly. “What?”

“You’re pretty,” he stated simply.

“Oh, you’re drunk,” you laughed, brushing him off entirely as your ears burned.

“Only a little, and you’re pretty,” he repeated and you furrowed your brows at him for a moment.

“Well, you’re pretty too.” you replied a little awkwardly and he chuckled.

“I wanted you to know, just in case someone hasn’t told you today… which would be a damn shame if they haven’t, that you were the prettiest girl in that room tonight.”

“Don’t tell Abby that,” you said softly, still trying to deflect as you looked down to your hands in your lap.

“I wouldn’t want to tell Abby that, I only want to tell you,” he hooked his finger under your chin and pulled your gaze up, “I don’t - uh… I’ve wanted to tell you that for a long time,” he confessed. “Since the first day I met you but good grief you know how to make a guy feel invisible,” he chuckled. “Which is okay, we’re just coworkers… you’re under no obligation to give me the time to tell you you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen but you are, and I just wanted you to know that.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he dropped his hand from your face, “we’re not just coworkers.”

“We are, and that’s okay.”

“I didn’t think you ever noticed me… not really, not unless we were in the air. I didn’t mean to make you feel invisible,” you said softly and he shook his head.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way, sweetheart. And for the record, I always notice you.” You smiled at this, cheeks warming as you looked up at him with bright eyes and it just reaffirmed what he already knew… the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

“I wasn’t just returning the compliment out of obligation earlier, I really do think you’re pretty,” you said and he frowned.

“Just pretty? Not devastatingly handsome and the man of your dreams?”

“Well, that’s just a mouthful,” you giggled and he couldn’t help but smile at the sound. You’d subconsciously drifted closer, allowing your thigh to press against his and you felt your heart hammering in your chest, almost drowning out his words entirely.

“But you didn’t deny it,” he smirked.

“I didn’t deny it,” you confirmed and you felt his breath fan over your lips as he inched closer, eyes searching yours for any hesitation, any indication that he was misreading this moment and trying to will it into something else. The air between you felt charged, igniting a buzz along your skin as your breathing grew ragged under the weight of the anticipation and you pushed yourself forward slightly, eyes fluttering closed and allowing your lips to brush against his slightly. His fingers trailed up your neck, gently grasping the junction of your throat and your jaw to pull you closer and envelop you in a kiss. You melted into him, your hand moving to rest atop his as your other cupped his cheek. It was slow, slower than you might have anticipated from him if you’d ever given yourself the chance to think of what this moment might be like. He was taking his time, savoring the moment and prolonging it as long as he could. When his other hand gripped at your waist you let out a soft moan, parting your lips and allowing him to explore you with his tongue and the taste of him made you dizzy… faint spearmint and scotch. It was more intoxicating than the tequila you’d been drinking like water all night and you felt drunk from his touch as his hands wandered down, sliding over your leg peeking out of the slit in your dress. Desire thrummed through your veins as you moved your hand to tangle your fingers in the hair at the base of his head, gently pulling him further into you as you lowered yourself to the floor completely and created space for him to slot himself between your legs. You were so lost in the moment, in the feeling of his weight on top of you and how intentionally he was kissing you that you didn’t even feel the elevator shake to life beneath you as you trailed the heel of your shoe along his leg. You didn’t hear the ding of the doors opening when you tangled your hands in his hair as he kissed down the expanse of your neck and you almost didn’t hear the shocked gasps of your friends as they witnessed your compromising position on the floor of the elevator but that… that you did hear.

The two of you shot up, Jake all but lifting you to your feet as you smoothed your dress and tried to avoid the eye contact of every single one of your teammates, spare Coyote and Abby, standing before you. They all filed into the elevator silently, and Bob carefully handed you your clutch.

“Grabbed that for you,” he muttered and you nodded in thanks as your cheeks burned.

“Party was winding down, thought we’d head back to Rooster’s room for a little after party if you’d like to join,” Phoenix said, with a knowing smirk on her face as she watched the numbers tick by on the screen above the door.

“Sounds fun,” you said, clearing your throat and out of the corner of your eye you saw Rooster fist bump Jake and you used your clutch to hit him in the chest as Fanboy succumbed to his laughter. One by one you all joined in, filling the small space with the sound and you carefully tangled your fingers with Jake’s, looking up at him with a soft smile. “To be continued?” you whispered, barely to be heard over everyone else and he nodded.

“To be continued.”

part two

#Jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fluff #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman fluff #hangman x you #hangman fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction

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siempre-bucky · 2 years

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Sunscreen

Bob Floyd x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bob burns. Your daughter gets very paranoid when he forgets his sunscreen one morning and insists on bringing it to him.

wc: 1.4k

a/n: ahhh my first bob fic. I just love the idea of him as a dad!

“Do you have everything?” You called from the kitchen, the rustling of objects from upstairs perking your ears.

“I got it, darlin’,” Bob told you kindly as he trotted down the stairs while zipping his tan backpack.

Beach football had become a tradition since the first game almost seven years ago. One football emoji from Maverick in the team’s group chat would have everyone rushing off base or nearby homes and gathering on the beach across from the Hard Deck. Bob would smile every time but quickly turn off notifications and grimace as Phoenix and Hangman started their taunts.

The blond wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your cheek, “Don’t come home with a bloody nose, please,” you jokingly pleaded, pushing up his aviator glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Your husband chuckled and draped his backpack over his shoulder before walking over to the other side of the counter. His hand playfully grabbed hold of one of his daughter's space buns and pulled her closer. “Be good for your mom, Ames” he told her as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m always good, daddy,” the six-year-old sighed dramatically and looked up at him, her matching aviator glasses slipping off the nose that also matched her father's.

“I know, but as your dad, it’s my job to say it,” he reminded her matter of factly before offering a quick ‘I love you’ and ‘I’ll see you later’ to his favorite girls.

Amy returned to her coloring book, her cheek resting against the palm of her hand as she meticulously colored her half-finished page. You leaned against the counter and watched as he walked towards the front door, casually eyeing him up and down with a smirk appearing on your face as his yellow shirt rose slightly. “Gross,” Amy mumbled under her breath after hearing the door shut.

You playfully scoffed and tugged on her other bun before kissing her forehead. “One day when someone catches your eye, baby, the payback will feel so good,” you chuckled before leaving her to her coloring book.

The house was still.

Like her father, Amy was a quiet child and her soft voice only ever rose when she was in distress or angry, which wasn’t often. “Mom!” she cried. Your blood turned cold at the shrill tone of her light voice, the basket of clothes collided with the wood floor.

“Amy,” you breathed as you hurried into the room, your heart pounding against your chest. The little girl stood in the center of the kitchen, tears filled to the brim as she looked down at the cylinder spray bottle in her hand. You came closer and got down on your knees, instantly looking for scrapes. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, moving the can towards you. “Daddy left his sunscreen,” she told you meekly.

Your face instantly softened as she passed it to you. Amy was never the same after last summer when the sunscreen was left in the room while you were out in the hot weather. Bob came back a bright blinding shade of red. The sounds of his pained groans and restless nights still haunted Amy. She hated to see her dad in any kind of pain or even slight discomfort.

“He’ll probably borrow Aunt Nat’s sunscreen,” you tried to reassure her, taking your finger and pushing up her glasses.

“But it’s his special sunscreen,” she grumbled, her eyes slowly narrowing. “We have to go give it to him!”

You looked down, the bold labeling reading: up to 110-degree protection. A laugh threatened to escape your poorly concealed smile. Bob swore by this stuff, proudly taking it with him everywhere during summer outings since the incident. “Ok,” you gave in, “we’ll go.”

The salt air was refreshing, the seagulls wailing loudly from above and the testosterone-fueled shouts were not any less quiet. You took a quick glance inside the windows of the Hard Deck, sending a quick wave to Penny before Amy pulled on your other hand.

“I see him!” Amy gasped excitedly, seeing Bob sitting in the sand with some of the other aviators while they reset for the next game. She let go once she noticed you watching, taking off towards Bob. “Daddy!” she called.

Bob’s eyebrows knitted together as he heard the familiar voice, he looked up to the sun wondering if he was overheating. The voice called to him again, the voice huffing and puffing before standing in front of him, her little shadow blocking his slightly pink face from the blazing sun. He looked down in surprise, “What are you doing here?” he asked with a grin.

“You left your sunscreen at home,” she said as she pulled away, showing him the can.

“She was adamant about bringing it to you,” you chimed in from behind. Bob’s torso turned and he wrapped his arm around your calf to pull you closer to his side.

Bob chuckled and took the can, pressing his kiss to her cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, darlin’,” he hummed. Amy put her hands on her knees and inspected his face, noticing the small patch of red forming on his nose. There was only one way to get her to relax. Bob popped open the lid and removed his glasses before spraying it all over his face. “Is that better?” he asked, one of his blue eyes opening to see her reaction.

She was about to tell him to spray his face once more but a gasp left her throat as she was hoisted into the air and seated on broad shoulders. Her eyes were screwed shut and her arms had a death grip around the person’s neck. “I didn’t think I’d get to see my favorite girl today,” he said.

Her eyes opened once she heard his Texas drawl. “Jake!” she giggled, her eyes opening widely and a bright smile forming on her lips.

“Come to save your old man from losin’, baby bob?”

Amy blushed and shook her head bashfully. It was no secret to the team that Amy had a little crush on Hangman. “No, daddy left his sunscreen at home. I didn’t want him to get burnt.” Jake looked down at Bob and tsked, teasingly shaking his head in disapproval before carrying Amy off towards the water.

You took a seat next to Bob and looped your arm around his. “You know I just borrowed Natasha’s, right?” You couldn’t help but smile at the small laugh he had in his voice, it was your favorite sound in the world.

“I know,” you sighed, resting your head on his clothed shoulder. “You should have seen her face. She was worried you looked like a lobster.”

“I was doing just fine,” he hummed, turning to kiss your temple. “I promise.”

You looked down at his sand-ridden forearm. Raising a single eyebrow in suspicion, “You’re looking a little pink there,” you smirked, nudging him with your shoulder. Untangling your arms, you moved to sit on your knees, taking the can from its spot in the warm sand. “You could always…” your voice faded off as you eyed him up and down, hoping he’d get the hint.

Bob noticed the slight change in your tone and watched as your thighs clamped together while your eyes examined his clothed chest. “Baby,” he said in a low voice.

"Lift," you said sternly. He did as he was told and lifted his arms so you could spray his strong arms. You looked over, Amy was still sitting on Jake’s shoulders as he ran her down the beach, her little arms held the red football tightly to her chest, and giggled as the guys tried to reach for it. “She’s with her fan club,” you murmured before dragging in your lower lip.

The blond gave in and took off his shirt, gently placing it over his backpack. “This is what does it for you?” he joked, pointing at his pale skin.

“Very much so.” You nodded happily and started to spray his chest and back. Goosebumps started to form from the cold mist, naturally flinching to get away from it. “You should keep your shirt off,” you told him, sending a wink in his direction.

He pulled you in for a kiss, “You would like that wouldn’t you, sweetheart?” he mumbled against your lips.

“You guys are so gross!” Amy whined as she trotted towards you, plopping down right in between your bodies. Bob rolled his eyes and took back the sunscreen, spraying a little on his finger and dabbing it on her nose. She pouted, yet still nuzzled against his bare chest. “Thank you,” she sighed, scrunching her wet nose.

Amy shifted into your lap after the team called for Bob. He groaned and stood up from his spot, instinctively reaching for his t-shirt. A low hum of dissatisfaction rumbled from your throat, his head whipped towards you and caught your knowing expression. “Fine,” he sighed before walking back towards the beach, looking back to see your grin. He looked down at Amy and pushed up his glasses, making his daughter giggle and do the same.

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd fluff #top gun #top gun maverick

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attorneys-against-court-violence · 10 months

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I'll never get over how Athena's trauma is written in Dual Destinies. I never will. It's one of few areas I have absolutely no complaints about.

At a surface-level, it's a very effective tool to evoke discomfort, fear, pity, and intrugue from the player. We get glimpses as to what's causing these nervous breakdowns of hers in 5-1 and it's nothing comforting (a courtroom with bloodied-out faces staring judgementally at a crying child is... distrubing). Those breakdowns are accompanied by near silence, letting us drink in the raw emotions of the moment. Her breakdown in 5-3 is a standout example; there's nothing but hollow wind and a shivering, broken Athena to lend the moment its deserved gravitas as she fruitlessly tries to calm herself.

Repeating the trauma of having to defend a dear friend from being accused for killing their tutor, in spite of nobody listening to you, is going to do that to you.

Come the revelations in 5-5, we get compelling body language with her covering her ears in distress - the most sensitive part of her & source of a lot of pain in her childhood. Shaking her head in denial at the revelation of what Simon saw when he walked in the robotics lab, how rarely she comes out of her sad pose during the first half of 5-5 (reminiscent of Edgeworth's own brooding pose in the Wright Trilogy, most often seen when he's reliving his own traumas). Even after things come to light and the truth is revealed, she struggles to even say what happened while locked in that Edgeworth arm-grab pose. It's fantastically handled each time it rears its ugly head.

Going deeper, it also explains a lot about her behaviour; her reflexive throwing of the police officer in 5-2 and her furious outbursts being some good examples. Her emotional state is pretty wild throughout Dual Destinies - partially because she's just like that - but partially because she's trying to keep the more uncomfortable feelings down. She goes quiet when the Blackquills first arrive, being avoidant around the topic of Simon and unable to confront Aura for just how cynical and loathing she's become. She's very iffy around blood and is noticably uncomfortable and perturbed during 5-3 (for reasons I have already mentioned). Her main motivation for keeping this pain to herself is a tragically relatable one; not wanting the drag others down in her sorrow. That's the reason she gives Phoenix when he tells him to back down and stop fighting (a stark contrast to when she objected on his behalf in 5-DLC, sensing he still had some fire left in him).

Despite having others help bring her back from a dark state of mind before, her pushing others away to carry the sufferage alone when it's too much for her feels painfully real.

But one of my favourite parts is how other characters handle it. Specifically, how Phoenix handles himself around Athena. Even if he doesn't know the full extent of her traumas, he knows she's nervous and perhaps not in the best of spirits. He's a LOT more gentle with her than Apollo, is for damn sure; guiding her through examining Courte's body and praising her for getting through it despite going pale. He does still tease in 5-DLC, 5-3, and 5-4, but it's more playful than what he does with Apollo. He also keeps it to a minimum in 5-1 after just barely making it before she has another shutdown, prioritising his role as a reliable presence over anything else. A very good example of this is 5-5; when the big revelation finally comes and Athena's ready to confess to what really happened during UR-1, Phoenix is there to reassure her that she's safe and prevents the Judge from butting in to give her room to disclose what happened.

When push comes to shove and Athena can't quite make it out of that terrible mental space on her own, it's her friends and allies that ultimately help pull her out. Juniper Woods re-assures Athena of her faith, something that had appeared to waver over this case until the truth of what she saw the day of the murder came out. Simon Blackquill reminds her why she's even here to begin with, indirectly stating that he so desperately wishes her to succeed and bring them both out of this mess. Apollo Justice - on top of the usual "your're fine!" bit - reminds her of the skills she has to turn 5-3 around. Phoenix Wright, having dealt with many a client and friend burdened by trauma, gives Athena the stable footing she needs to get back up and carry on. Even if he needs to step in now and then, it's not to belittle or infantalise her - it's to be supportive.

I've said before in a past essay I don't really think too highly of anymore that I don't really mind the fact that Athena needs so much help throughout the game. This is the main reason why; her PTSD from the events of UR-1 have a believable impact on her character and ability to perform normally, with characters helping to pull her back out in ways unique to them and their respective relationship to her. As I said, she gets all that support because she genuinely NEEDS it. The game does a good job proving that much.

And that's alright.

Part of the reason it took so long to solve this is that Athena constantly pushed people away from her problems. She didn't want anyone else to become another psychological casualty of something that otherwise only affects her. It's when she finally sees that Phoenix can and does help her that she can finally let him do so, and help him in return by digging into that dark place and letting the memories of that day come back to her.

Trauma in Ace Attorney doesn't often get this level of focus. It can and has been depicted rather well in the past - see Edgeworth for a good example - but Athena, being the heart-on-your-sleeve type and a protagonist, offers a unique opportunity to witness how it affects her on a more personal, sometimes first-person level. Between a gut-wrenching and haunting presentation, stellar characterisation, and fairly grounded consequences and reactions to it from her and others... it's a rare part of Dual Destinies that I have no complaints about.

Happy Thena Thursday!.....?

#dual destinies analysis #thena thursday #thena thoughts #dual destinies spoilers #ace attorney spoilers #athena cykes #dual destinies #undescribed #i'd also like to mention how painful it is to see shivering athena from the counsel perspective.#you're standing right next to her while she's in genuine anguish and telling you to stand down and accept her guilt.#the same things that make us laugh make us cry just as hard.

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missathlete31 · 8 months

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Just A Scratch- Part 1

A dramatic angsty Hannix prompt:

Warnings: Phoenix is put into an uncomfortable and unwanted position at the bar so please be wary if anything like that sounds triggering to you.

It all happens so quickly. One minute Phoenix is heading over to Penny to get a round of drinks at the bar and the next second she is being pushed up against the panel-sided wall by a drunk man who's hands find the swell of her ass like they have a homing beacon. Before she can even react he is there, in her space and getting closer, face showcasing a smugness in the way he leers confidently down at her. She's been hit on before of course, and usually reacts better, but something about it happening at the Hard Deck of all places, an establishment that has become like a second home for all the Daggers, puts Natasha in such shock that she can only stare back at the man unmoving.

"Well aren’t you a sight” the man speaks; his breath hot on her ear as he somehow seems to come even closer into her personal space. Natasha can’t contain her shiver, her unease palpable as her mind screams at her to push him off and get out of there and yet her body stays put. It’s not like she’s drunk; Phoenix was the last of the Daggers to arrive and hadn’t even managed to get a drink yet but somehow she is as frozen as a deer in headlights as this stranger gives her ass another squeeze with a grin.

Her lack of fight emboldens the drunken man. Perhaps he is mistaking it for her being interested although from the way he has her virtually trapped against the far wall of the bar, Natasha has a feeling he is the type of predator that enjoys making his prey feel ensnared. She raises a hand and tries to push back, finding enough of herself to recognize she needs out of this situation immediately, but the man bats her attempts at escape away with a chuckle. “If you want to get handsy baby, I suggest we go some place a little more private.”

“Let me go” it’s the first Natasha has spoken and she would be embarrassed by the lack of power in her voice if she wasn’t so freaked out by the whole situation. The man shakes his head with a condescending look, almost as though he finds the female aviator adorable. “Oh sweetie, don’t worry, I’ll take care of ya-“

“I said-“ her voice raises as she pushes against the man’s chest again to try and find a path to escape, “let me go.”

“But we are having so much fun” one more squeeze to her butt and then the man is moving to cradle her face, framing the stands of hair that fall over her face. Natasha opted to wear civilian clothes with her hair down today, a decision she regrets as the man in front of her continues to show her no respect. She knows this sort of thing wouldn’t happen if she was in uniform, remembering all the times she’s been called a frigid stick up the ass when she told men no in her khakis. Channeling that power, that strength that she possess when she wears her Lieutenant bars and soon to be Lieutenant Commander if Maverick is right about the ceremony at the end of the month, Natasha gives another push, harder to the point the man actually stumbles a step. He isn’t deterred, merely smiling as he shifts a lock of her hair behind her ear and dares to kiss the spot of skin he removed it from. “Beautiful and a little feisty, my favorite combination-“

“Then you’ll love me” a voice announces and it would be comical how fast the drunk man’s head snaps up at the sound if the whole circumstances wasn’t so scary. Phoenix turns as well, finally feeling a moment of calm as she notices Hangman of all people have come over, his eyes assessing the situation quickly and picking up on her unease. He’s wearing his khakis’ as usual, one of the few Daggers to still dress in regulation despite being on their mandated month of leave. The military Ken doll look works on him though, usually combined with his infuriating smirk and winking sea green eyes. That’s not who stands in front of Phoenix right now though, the flirty and playful Jake gone, replaced with the stone cold killer that Nat only sees on missions. Tonight, Hangman looks livid, lips thin and eyes narrowed as he stares at the man holding Natasha hostage with a glare that would make smarter men run for the hills. The drunk doesn’t seem fazed though, or perhaps he has a death wish, because instead of backing off the man just scoffs Seresin’s way, “Find your own bitch” he warns, sparing Jake no more as he pushes back into Natasha’s body, a bulge in his pants hitting her hip and making this state of affairs a hell of a lot more real.

The pressure only last a second before the drunken man is ripped away from Phoenix and sent careening to the ground the other way. Before the female aviator can even process what is happening, Jake is in front of her, the expression on his face concerned though his eyes still look murderous. “Are you alright?” he asks immediately, his gaze scanning her for injuries while his hands hover without touching. Natasha knows she owes Jake some kind of thank you for saving her but something about Hangman being the one to see her so vulnerable and scared makes Phoenix raise her defenses, the defenses she should have had up from the beginning so she could have fought off the strange man herself. With embarrassment crippling her, she tries to roll her eyes, "I didn't need your help" she comments quickly, hurrying to hide the fluster off her face from the speed of the assault she just endured.

Jake barely blinks at her attitude, eyes still staring, still assessing, "But are you o-“ he’s cut off when suddenly a bottle breaks over his head, sending Hangman stumbling down to one knee from the force of the blow as glass rains all around them. Nat looks up to see her predator coming back, the other half of the broken bottle in his shaking hands, “you’re mine” he states, anger now in his tone from this delay in his conquest. He moves to take another step, but Hangman is up to the task, lunging up and tackling the man away from Phoenix once more.

The altercation has gained the whole bars attention at this point. The music of the piano cut away as everything descends into chaos. Natasha can see Jake land a punch before he is flipped over and lost in the movement of bodies converging on the two fighting men.

Phoenix is yanked immediately away from the wall and the fighting by Payback, who as the tallest of the group is able to spot her quickly as the other Daggers join the fight to back up Seresin. He deposits her over to Halo and Bob, a move that normally would anger Natasha for being ‘handled’ but she is still so shocked by the turn of events that she allows her friends to all but cocoon her in their safety. Pulled over to the side and out of the scuffle, Phoenix is able to watch as the men of her squadron rip the drunken man away from their teammate and throw him towards a corner booth. The man is bleeding from his nose and a split lip, and yet still he tries to fight his way away. Luckily the Daggers seem too formidable for him to overcome and they manage to box him in to the cushion, an image so similar to what the man did to her that Phoenix has to look away. She hears vaguely as Penny yells the police are on their way but Natasha’s attention soon becomes fixated on her savior. Jake is getting clear of the melee, Javy helping him over to a barstool, as blood covers the left side of his head and continues to trickle. Before she even thinks about it, Nat is moving, startling Bob and Callie with how quickly she is heading towards the bar top.

Just as she arrives Rooster is coming over too, handing Jake a towel to hold pressure as Javy runs to get ice. She watches Jake wince the minute the fabric hits his cut, the white of the cotton turning red quickly like it’s already done Seresin’s hair and skin. Natasha isn’t squeamish but the image is more than off-putting especially because it is her fault that the man is hurt anyway. Jake rubs his other hand along his jaw, showcasing the beginning of a bruise no doubt from a punch in the brawl.

Beside the injured aviator, Rooster lets out a long breath, “Penny is asking for an ambulance, just sit tight man-“

“Not needed” Jake moves to shake his head, and then as though thinking better of it, refrains. “I’m fine” though the way he teeters even while seated negates his entire argument. Bradshaw opens his mouth to argue but Nat beats him to it.

“Jake-“ Phoenix manages, because calling him Bagman right now feels wrong, “Oh god Jake-“ before she can say more, both men turn to look at her, wearing identical looks of concerns.

“Nat you alright?” Bradley asks at the same moment that Jake tries to stand and ask the same thing. Rooster pushes him back towards the barstool with barely any pressure, before turning to the female pilot again, “did he hurt you?” the mustached man asks.

“No, I’m fine. But, Jake he- God, I’m so sorry-“

“None of this is your fault Phoenix” Hangman answers, earning a look of approval from Bradley for not allowing Natasha to even try to feel any guilt for the night’s events.

“But- but your head-“

“A cheap shot, it’s nothing” though they can all see the wince when Jake tries to move the towel off. Bradley stands closer, looking over the top of Jake’s head, and giving a long whistle, “I think you’re going to need stitches Seresin” he shares gravely.

“I’m fine, it’s just a scratch.”

“A scratch that is ruining all your clothes right now” Bradley points out, emphasizing the now bloody collar of Jake’s khaki’s. It’s said with exasperation and concern, both Bradshaw and Seresin embracing the new level of friendship they had managed to reach after the success of the mission.

“Head wounds bleed a lot” the blonde reasons dismissively, “I’m good.”

“Yeah too good to be true right?”

Before Jake can reply to Bradshaw with his normal quips, Penny arrives, motherly concern on full display as she shuffles Jake towards the office where she keeps her first aid kit. Javy follows the pair, the four shots the man already had during the night making him more of a hindrance than a help, but still they manage. With Hangman gone, Natasha feels cold, not liking the man being out of her sight especially with him being so hurt because of her. As though he can read her mind, Bradley moves closer to Phoenix’s side, not touching her but providing comfort by making sure to block her from the view of her assaulter and the view of Jake’s blood on the floor.

Bob arrives with a glass of water, kind enough not to comment when Natasha’s hands shake when she grips it. Her WSO knows her better at this point than to ask her if she is okay, instead offering her a kind voice, “do you need anything?” he asks.

She shakes her head, “I’m good” she manages, naturally thinking of Jake with that choice of words and cursing herself when her lip wobbles with emotions. Bob, sensing all, places a gentle hand on her forearm “the minute he saw that man get in your space he was off” the bespectacled man supplies.

“What?”

“Hangman, I don’t think I ever seen him so worried. He didn’t even wait for Rooster or Coyote, he just barged on over to get to you.”

“Well you know how he likes to play savior” she murmurs though she hates herself for even saying those words out loud.

Bob eyes her for a moment, reading her mind like he always seems able to do, before shaking his head. “You know better than that” he speaks sadly, disappointment evident. “When I first met you all I thought you both were-“ he stops, pausing to follow Nat’s eyes that can’t seem to help but follow to the back room that Jake has left to go to. “You should talk to him. He- He’s not quite what I thought” Bob decides to share, squeezing his pilot’s arm one last time before giving her a moment.

Phoenix lets out a shaky breath. Its information she can’t process right now, not with the smells of the drunken man’s cologne and Hangman’s blood still under her nose. She wishes she could dismiss Bob’s observation as being misinterpreted but Natasha knows it’s not fair to Bob or Jake. In truth, she’s known Jake Seresin for a decade and though the man has been a thorn in her side, he’s also always been an ally. He’s pushed her harder than any other pilot or teacher ever has, and never looked down on her for being a woman like some of the other men has. In all honesty, if the turf war between him and Bradshaw hadn’t forced Natasha to pick a side, Phoenix knows Jake would be one of her closest friends, maybe even more at this point. They always had a good relationship, a give and take that kept things interesting and fun. She also isn’t blind; able to admit that Jake looks as good as he claims. Could it be that Jake feels the same way? Bob seems to imply as much, and the man’s deductions have been nothing but right since the day she met her WSO in the bar before the mission.

Natasha’s eyes turn back to the office door at the end of the hallway. The door is still closed and Nat knows that somewhere inside Jake is probably still bleeding because of her; hurting because of her. She wants to get to him, to thank him, to apologize, to hold his hand every time he wants to wince from the pain she has caused him. In the span of a few minutes Phoenix realizes that she cares for Jake Seresin, in ways that disguised itself as friendship and camaraderie but feels so much more now. She takes a few steps forward, ready to throw caution to the wind and just be there for the man, when the door flies open and a frantic Coyote runs out. His hands are red with Jake’s blood and the fear in his eyes are enough to almost stop Nat’s heart right there. “SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE” he screams, shocking the room silent, “NOW!”

And then everything descends back into chaos.

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summerstrash · 1 month

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someday I want marvel editorial to let quentin quire out of the closet because I think it would be extremely funny to have him just kind of go "you thought I was straight this whole time???" at someone, because, like, out of all of the currently "straight" male x-men characters, quentin is like, rachel levels of glass closet.

examples:

inspired to radicalism by the hate crime death of a fashion designer in conjunction with an identity-destabilizing revelation about himself.

has maintained a pink undercut/mohawk since 2003 and gives off exactly the same energy as the most insufferable white queer radical teen/20-something you know.

his legal human name is quintavius quirinius quire. you cannot tell me he didn't name himself that after transitioning at like, age 8, during a roman empire phase.

the only human male psychic we've seen as a destined, legitimate Phoenix vessel — a story role typically played by presumed-cis women from a specific bloodline

owned a speedo that put a radioactivity symbol over his junk

kept a reservoir dogs (the most homosexual tarantino movie) poster in his dorm room at the jgs

served as the first and only boy to ever hold the role of "wolverine's dykey teen protégé" (previous girls in the role include kate, jubilee, movies!rogue, and laura)

The now-defunct official JGS Twitter accounts included a tweet stating that Quentin tried out for the school cheer team in a skirt.

the sexy Phoenix nuns were intentionally not all girls, Jason Latour said that to my face with his human mouth.

his version of a Dark Phoenix Saga ("Tomorrow Never Learns") explored his relationships with evan and idie in ways that likened evan to new-mutant-rev!scott and clearly paralleled logan and idie, which, like [gestures]

When Evan and Idie take Teen Bobby to his first gay bar, Idie chalks up her confidence in the space to having dated Quentin.

Percy had him literally trying on bodies during a period where he was trying to find himself after a straight breakup, including female bodies.

the script for X-Men/Fantastic Four #1 included a reference to Quentin hanging out with Akihiro (notable undercut/Mohawk bisexual adoptee with wolverine-related Daddy issues) in the background

Like, I wouldn't be surprised if people at Marvel literally have forgotten he's not canonically explicitly queer yet. The vibes are just so powerful.

#quintavius quirinius 'quentin' quire #quentin quire #look i'm just saying hes lgbt. yes. the whole acronym.

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naavispider · 7 months

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ALTERNATIVE, EVEN SILLIER PROMPT

Spider’s shoulder dislocated and he’s never experienced that before so he’s just hyperventilating, wondering why his arm is flailing around while Quaritch has to calm him down and pop it back into place.

This took me a while babes but here we are eventually 💞 Sorry it took me long 🤗

It was going to shit. You didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to see that. Fike’s attempt at wrangling an ikran had been going disastrously since he started, and although Spider had enjoyed watching the recom dodge the animal’s sharp beak in an attempt not to get his head bitten off, even he was starting to worry that the situation was fast approaching out-of-control.

Quaritch had already tamed his banshee, and was watching intently from the sky. Mansk had gone next, followed by Zdinarsk, but the majority of the group remained on the ground, shouting encouragement and advice from their vantage points.

Fike had seemed nervous from the start. It was clear, now, that he was struggling. The fourth member of project Phoenix had chosen a cyan blue male with green field marks - the kind of green Spider had seen in the aurora to the North. It was a beautiful ikran, but fierce. And Fike wasn’t prepared.

The recom was on the ground, pinned underneath his beast, who was snapping his beak trying to tear Fike’s head off.

“Watch it!” Prager shouted from beside Spider, who flinched when the animal lunged for Fike’s head again, this time managing to snap his ear. Fike let out a roar of pain as blood gushed from the place his ear used to be.

Behind him, Spider heard the sound of Wainfleet loading up the gun that Quaritch had wanted to use. No way in hell, thought Spider. Bonding with any creature on Pandora was a sacred act, and to do so with some kind of artificial aid felt like a violation.

Without thinking, Spider jumped forward, entering the match to help Fike. He didn’t want the recom to succeed, but he had to stop Wainfleet from shooting the ikran. “Stop!” he shouted as he lunged over a rock and put his hands up to the animal, exposed.

The ikran paused its attack on Fike just long enough to stare at Spider in surprise. Fike was dangling dangerously close to the cliff’s edge, and any wrong move would send them both over.

“Easy there,” Spider murmured to the animal, not looking her in the eye. He knew how stupid this was. Unlike the Na’vi, he couldn’t simply bond with the creature if it decided to attack. No ikran had ever tried to hurt him in the past, but that’s because he gave them space and never interrupted a fight. Nothing could save him if the banshee attacked.

“Kid, what are you doing!”

“Spider!”

“Get back HERE!”

He ignored the various voices and took another tentative step closer to the ikran. “Easy, boy,” he continued, hoping that Fike could get his act together soon and make the bond.

With a grunt of pain, Fike wriggled out from the ikran’s belly. The animal realised almost immediately and raised a sharp talon to slash down through Fike’s arm. Spider heard Fike’s grunt at the same time as Wainfleet yelled at him. “Get DOWN!”

Knowing he was in Wainfleet’s line of fire, Spider jumped to the side, hoping to distract the ikran just long enough for Fike to clamber on top.

That turned out to be incredibly stupid.

The ikran screeched furiously at him, turning its attention from the injured recom to Spider, giving Spider just a second to brace himself before the animal swiped him with a huge talon, the force of it sending him back several strides. He landed disastrously on the hard rock and cried out in pain as he realised something was extremely wrong with his arm.

He looked up, expecting the ikran advancing on him to be his final sight. What he actually saw was Fike finally pulling himself together enough to leap onto the animal’s back, grabbing his kuru and plunging it next to the ikran’s.

Once he was sure the pair were bonded and the situation was under control, Spider threw his head back and allowed the pain in his shoulder to consume him. He tried to push himself up into sitting, but could only use his left arm to support himself.

“Fuck!” he cried, clutching his right arm. This did nothing to ease the pain - in fact it made it worse. He’d never felt something like this before, and it scared him. He’d broken his arm once, and that was nowhere near as bad as this.

Before he knew it, Prager was by his side, along with Ja and Wainfleet. “What happened?” demanded Quaritch over the comms.

Prager’s hands were gently trying to manoeuvre Spider's right arm into a more comfortable position, while a focused expression clouded his face. “It’s dislocated,” he muttered. Wainfleet relayed the information over the comms and within moments the squad leader had landed, all thoughts of Fike’s battle to the death long over.

“Is that bad?” Spider asked through clenched teeth, trying anything he could to not cry from the agony. He couldn’t move his right arm at all, and his shoulder felt like it had simply been blown off.

“It’s not fun,” the medic responded, “but we can fix it quickly.”

Spider was mainly focused on keeping his breathing steady, so he tuned out the rest of the conversation. Wainfleet and Ja had left at some point, presumably to go check on Fike if he had landed yet.

Despite the pain, Spider reminded himself that at least his ear hadn’t just been torn off.

“-don’t carry any human-“

“-fuck him up?”

Spider looked up at this alarming exchange, glancing between Prager and Quaritch. “What’s going on?” he demanded, but it came out as a very half hearted groan.

Quaritch looked at Prager, who was the one to explain. “I can pop your shoulder back in, no problem. But it’s gonna be… painful. I’ve only got recombinant painkillers.”

“Is it safe?” Spider asked.

“It’s never really been tested before. Theoretically, there’s nothing toxic in the gas and air. But it’s around seven times stronger for recoms.”

“Gas and air?” Quaritch interrupted. “How’s that gonna work with his mask?”

“I can hook it up,” Prager responded simply.

Spider groaned, his shoulder choosing that moment to throb especially hard.

“It’s up to you, boss.”

“No," Spider winced before Quaritch had a chance to reply. "Give it to me.”

“Are you sure?” the squad leader asked, looking uncertain.

Spider nodded. He was big for a human - he could take it.

Prager took off his back and started to rummage for the equipment while Quaritch took over holding Spider’s arm in place. “Small breaths,” Quaritch murmured, and somewhere deep inside Spider did an internal eye roll that his genocidal father’s clone was giving him tips on pain management.

As if Spider didn’t know how to deal with pain.

“Okay kid, in a second I’m gonna plug the medicine into your exopack. It will only take a few seconds to diffuse and you’ll start to feel it.” Spider wanted to tell the medic to just hurry up already. “Then I’ll pop your arm back into place nice and easy. Just keep breathing steadily. You ready?”

Spider looked at him before nodding. Prager fiddled with the exopack on Spider’s back, which in itself felt vulnerable. Before he had time to dwell on this though, a strange smell permeated his mask. He breathed in deeply, and was hit with a wave of dizziness. Woah. Whatever the hell that was, it was fucking strong.

“Fuck,” he cussed as he closed his eyes and leaned backwards, afraid he was gonna pass out. Arms caught him from behind, adjusting him to a certain sitting position. He could feel Prager’s hands on his elbow and shoulder, but the pain was muted, as if it was waving at him from across an ocean.

“Clench your teeth and don't bite your tongue. You hear me, Spider? Just relax,” Prager instructed, and Spider tried to focus on the words, although it took him a while to process that simple instruction. Relax? Relax? When he was captured by the enemy and having to rely on the murderous RDA for medical aid? “You’re crazy,” Spider slurred with a smirk. He should be scared of them, but he wasn’t. “You’re… delusional…”

No one replied to him - at least, he couldn’t hear them if they did, because all of a sudden his elbow was jerked into a new position, sending a muted wave of pain over his skin like goosebumps. “OW!” He protested angrily. He couldn’t remember why Prager was hurting him. He couldn’t remember why he was here. He didn’t think he could even recall his name.

“All done,” Quaritch said awkwardly.

“Wwhat’ss done?”

“Your arm’s back to normal.”

Prager was watching him carefully.

Spider frowned. “What happened to m’arm?”

Prager raised an eyebrow, which was entirely unhelpful, so Spider turned to Quaritch. This was equally disappointing because Quaritch looked constipated.

This only heightened Spider’s anxiety. What had happened? It must be bad. “Did it fall off?”

“Just stay still while I wrap it,” responded Prager. The medic proceeded to create some sort of sling for Spider’s arm, but Spider wasn’t paying attention. He was more focused on the strange pink patches of skin that interrupted his natural blue.

How bizarre. Suddenly, it seemed hilarious. Why did he have pink skin when he was from Pandora? Nobody else did.

He couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped him. He tried to stop it but it came out more of a raspberry and spit sprayed the inside of his mask. “Why’s m’skin PINK?!” he cackled, finding it difficult not to wheeze in hysterics. “Hey… HEY! Do you see it?”

Quaritch didn’t look half as amused as Spider felt. His face was set in a sour expression and even Prager looked a little concerned. What had gotten into them? “It’s pink…!”

“Okay, try and keep your arm still okay, Spider?” Prager said.

“My arm?”

Prager nodded. “You’ll need to wear the sling for the rest of today to help with the tenderness.”

“What’s wrong with my arm?” he asked in worry.

“It’s fine, Spider. You just dislocated it.”

“Dis…?” He looked down at his left arm and brought it up to his face. “It’s fine!”

Quaritch sighed. “The other one. No! Don’t try to move that one…”

Spider looked down and was surprised to find his right arm was secured to his chest in a folded piece of white material. There was a large knot at the back of his neck. “What’sss that?”

“It’s a sling. It will keep your arm still while the shoulder heals.”

“My arm? What happened to my arm?!”

Instead of being helpful and explaining what had happened to his poor arm, Quaritch’s face twitched slightly.

“Aaaand that’s enough of that,” Prager said, fiddling with a tube that was connected to Spider’s exopack.

“Hey! Get off, you’ll choke me!”

“Shh, kid, it’s okay,” Quaritch tried to console him. But Spider knew he couldn’t trust this man. He couldn’t remember exactly why, but he knew he was bad.

“Do you even remember my name?” Prager asked, looking bemused as he sat back to pack away the medkit.

Spider frowned. “Why would I not remember y’name? I don’t have brain damage.”

“Then what is it?”

He knew this. He knew it. Wait… why did he not know it? “I don’t want say,” he whispered conspiratorially, as if spies were lurking nearby. “Anyone could be listening.”

Prager gave Quaritch a knowing glance, complete with a half smirk. It made Spider feel like he was being left out of a joke. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing, kid. Who’s listening?”

Spider glanced around nervously before replying in a hushed voice. “The demons.”

He heard a snort of laughter from somewhere, and looked up to see Wainfleet and Mansk had come back over to see what all the fuss was about.

“Shhh!” he told them irritatedly.

“Yeah, keep your voices down guys. The demons are listening…”

Wainfleet was the most thoughtful, being considerate enough to glance around and check if there were any nearby. "Shit, sorry Spider! Can you tell me what they look like so I can spot them?"

Spider's brow furrowed in confusion. What did the demons look like? It was like something was fogging up his brain, allowing their appearance to escape him. Wait... Demons? Who was he talking about?

"I don't know," he moaned, thoroughly confused.

"Aw, come on Spidey! I wanna know!" Wainfleet jeered.

But Spider's head was coming back to him. He looked at Wainfleet, and so did Quaritch. While Spider's look was of a hazy understanding, the Colonel's eyes flashed with warning. "That's enough, Corporal."

Prager stood up, having packed the equipment away, giving Spider a pat on his good shoulder and carrying his bag over to Fike, the next casualty of the afternoon.

"You still in space?" Quaritch asked, taking out his holopad.

"Huh?" Spider replied. What was Quaritch talking about? He'd never been to space.

"Are you with us yet? Or do you still think that having pink skin is hilarious?" Quaritch was scanning the screen of his tablet, which from behind looked like a satellite map.

Spider groaned. What had he been talking about? The pain in his shoulder was starting to come back to him now, though it wasn't as bad as before. It just felt like it had been over exercised.

Quaritch chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes."

"How long do I have to wear this thing?" Spider asked in disgust, gesturing to the sling. It was constricting and uncomfortable, preventing him from climbing and even running with decent balance. The sooner he could burn it the better.

"Prager said at least for today. But I'll get him to look you over again this evening."

"Right."

"Until then, you're staying with me."

"What-?" Spider said, alarmed, but Quaritch had already pulled him to his feet by his good arm, marching him towards his ikran.

"I clearly can't trust you on the ground. Within ten minutes you almost got yourself killed." He hoisted Spider up in front of him, and was only successful because Spider's senses weren't what they usually were after the anesthetic.

Annoyance burned away the last of the gas and air in Spider's system. "I'm fine," he protested at the indignant manhandling.

"Yeah, yeah. Tell that to the demons."

Spider swore under his breath.

#avatar the way of water #spider socorro #miles quaritch #recom quaritch #miles spider socorro #avatar 2 #atwow #atwow fanfiction #atwow fic #my stuff: dislocated shoulder #avatar recoms #recom prager #recom squad #recom wainfleet #onehot #ask

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l0serloki · 1 year

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Hello!!

i was wondering if you could do a request for valorant sova, yoru, chamber (and anyone else if you would like) of their g/n so having anxiety and/or low self esteem on a certain day and how they would comfort them?

if you don't want to, then just ignore

thank youuu~ <3

Bad Days

(Chamber, Sova, Yoru, Phoenix, Sage, Fade)

CW : anxiety/depression, GN!Reader

Chamber :

Chamber understands having anxiety - he gets it from time to time.

He will tell you that he cares and make you a warm drink.

It totally depends on you though. I feel like he’s the type of boyfriend to give you space and let you come to him. He doesn’t want to add anymore stress on top of you!

He will ALWAYS be there and is an amazing listener. If you need anything at all and he will do it for you.

Sova :

Say no more!! Mama Sova is on the case.

He’s going to go above and beyond when he tells you’re in those moods. He cancels any plans/requirements you needed to have done.

You wake up panicked and he pats your head and says “Lay back down my dove” <3

He will cuddle with you and give you lots of compliments. To him you are the best person in the world & he doesn’t want you feeling any less.

Yoru :

I always say this but Yoru is awkward…

He tries his best but he is NOT good with words.

Instead he will take you to places he finds special and hope it takes your mind off things.

He will make small comments like “Good job” or “Not half bad”.. He means it though!!

“Come here.. Just this once” (he will give you small smooches but don’t EVER bring it up to anyone.. he will deny it till he dies.)

Phoenix :

“Babe, how can you be anxious when I’m here. I’ll save you.” (He’s being sarcastic, he thinks it’ll lift the mood some.)

Immediate hugs and kisses to the side of your head.

Phoenix is CLINGY unless you say otherwise. He will take you everywhere he goes/follow you throughout the day.

He is quite the entertainer and will do whatever he has to to get your mind off things.

“I love you babe. You’re totally the one for me. I mean come on.. look at us!” (Cheese lord.)

Sage :

She will take the day off to stay with you. Your health means the world to her - mental and physical!

“My love, I made us dinner, let’s watch a movie.”

Snacks & cuddles on the couch with your favorite movie playing! She also will bring out the really fluffy blankets :^>

“If you ever feel this way please tell me. I want to always be here for you.”

Fade :

Fade totally has bad anxiety and knows what it’s like to live in her head. She will automatically pick up on it.

She may not say she knows at first but she’ll do little stuff to ease the stress off you. Your clothes are cleaned and there’s a tea waiting next to the bed <3

“Dear, I know you’re not in best shape. Why don’t we take a nap? I’ll keep the nightmares away from you.”

Fade rubbing your scalp and arms as you fall asleep in her arms!!

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lambergeier · 3 days

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extremely basic but also vital dvd commentary request but last scene of the pacrim au prequel?

back on that grind. that ruining phoenix wright's life grind.

“Klavier, please, you’ve got to—” Klavier sits bolt upright when he wakes. Kaiju attack. No. What? No alarm, no intercom, no Kristoph. Ema Skye is by his bed, face red and swollen with tears, one shaking hand on his arm. He hasn’t spoken to her since she told him her feelings. He’s been trying to give her space.

i like to drop in little hints like the world is full of small, personal tragedies that you/phoenix will never know about bc every person's life is unfathomably large and rich beyond the scope of outside understanding. tragedy one: klavier really would have liked to go on that date with ema!

“Klav, please, I need you to come with me,” she gasps, scrubbing a hand over her sodden cheeks. “Ema?” he asks. It’s so late. One AM? “What’s happening?” “I fucked up. Klavier, I fucked up so bad, and you—you speak German, I wouldn’t have asked, except—”

tragedy two ema will blame herself for the failed drift test for a really long time lol

“German?” He’s not getting this quickly enough. Ema’s breathing is overfast, she’s close to hyperventilating. “I, Kristoph speaks it better than me.”

because klavier is barely conversational god bless. man who sincerely hopes duolingo will fix him

She shakes her head like she wouldn’t mind breaking her own neck. “No, it can’t be him, Klavier, please just come, I—”

when everyone but youuuuuuuu knows your brother has the worst vibes in the wooooooooorld. and you kinda know toooooooooo

skipping forward a bit here, sparse descriptions of tense transitions blah blah

“Ema,” he says, though she’s already pulling him forward, “Ema, I can’t be here. If you don’t—if Kris isn’t supposed to know about this—” He isn’t. It’s immediately, stupidly obvious. Blood pours from Wright’s ears and nose, his arms spasm around Edgeworth’s chest. Edgeworth is out, gone, eyes rolled back in his head and the noise of his breathing like a child’s whistle. Kris can never, ever know about this.

haha klavier definitely knows his brother can't be trusted 👍

one thing i intended, between this scene and the kristoph scene and the discussion of the gavins not their hitting their baselines, was to be like, okay this is the beginning of the end for the gavins. fic in which it's the beginning of the end for everyone, the gavins not excluded, and the end is going to be two really grinding, horrible years before apollo shows up. so, i'm working this out in real time as i type lol, that would mean this is the first time the thought ever crystallizes for klavier that he can't trust his brother. he's gotten by on denial for five years, but faced with All This, the truth will out! can't trust your brother!!

the starting premise of this fic, back when me and emma were just shooting the shit in the kitchen during lockdown 2020, in between writing in better light chapters was: klavier gets roped into miles and phoenix's drift test and it's the first thing he ever has to lie about in the drift. so, first thing alongside the fact that he can't trust his brother!! the two go hand in hand!

man this fic has bleak implications for the state of everyone's mental health in in better light lol

“Please,” Ema says. “Please.” She pushes, like a tide, and then he’s kneeling in front of the bloodied shape of his commanding officers. “Commander,” Klavier says in German, then tries again when it comes out as no sound at all. “Commander, she needs you to—” Ema tells him. “—She needs you to let go of the Marshal. He needs help. She says his heart—” Wright laughs, blood moving slickly over his teeth. One of his hands is jammed under the Marshal’s chestplate, his own glove and armor ripped off, his scarred forearm pulsing with movement. The other cradles the Marshal's gray face.

i published the fic then went back in like twenty minutes later to add "The other cradles the Marshal's gray face" bc it was suddenly intensely important that everyone remember miles and phoenix are in love. i think this was a wise decision. ignore how many times i use the word "pulsing" in this scene thanks

Klavier turns to Ema. “He says you have to bring the defibrillator here.” She’s pale, almost as sweaty as Wright. “What?” “He says the Marshal’s heart is already in—” he hadn’t recognized the German word Wright used. “It already stopped. He’s keeping it going.” Ema looks at Wright’s hand, pulsing against the Marshal’s chest. Wright speaks. “He says to run fast,” Klavier translates. Ema stumbles toward the door.

phoenix keeping miles' heart going was another thing that was in the outline from pretty early on. one must imagine that klavier is translating all this with very little understanding of what it means. this isn't how the drift is supposed to work right (<- please god)

“Commander,” Klavier says again, low, pressing his hands hard against his sides as the Marshal wheezes and dies and Wright, moment by moment, pulls him back. “Commander, I can’t—I can’t be here. I can’t know that this has happened to you. Kristoph is a friend to you but he’s not—” Wright cuts him off, another fat-tongued laugh. His speech is a mash of German and English, his scarred face palsied, blood thick in the slack corner of his mouth. “You’ll be fine,” he slurs, in a language unimaginable. “You'll be fine. I’m going to teach you how to lie in the drift.”

haha i'm no longer interested in writing fic unless i can end it with a direct nuclear strike. sorry what 12 years of ao3 will do to a mfer

OKAY!! ENOUGH OF THAT LINE BY LINE SHIT!! LET'S BREAK THIS THING DOWN!! HOLISTICALLY!!

so the fic is about lying the drift. in mine and emma's conception, that's accomplished primarily by lying to yourself, secondarily by ommission-lying to your loved ones so rigorously that you just Never Think about the lie unless absolutely necessary lol. phoenix does it in IBL, keeping from miles the knowledge of apollo's existence, and this fic is about like: oh he was lying about way more than that!

here, phoenix is lying about how bad things are and can get. he's actually super aware of how futile everything is, up to and including trucy going to college, but he lies about it! part of that is like, a natural personality-based distaste for pessimism, and another part of that is the knowledge that you can't just act like the world is ending all the time, even when the world is ending all the time. you gotta just keep trying to do your job, or else the world will just end faster.

which is a normal compartmentalization that people do, ofc, but phoenix has miles in his head every second of his life. and miles is fucking depressed lmao. even when he's not actively pondering offing himself, he's soooo fucking certain that he will somehow Be Dead within the next few years. so phoenix has to be the No It'll Be Fine Actually guy all the time! every second of every minute! which he thinks is fine and he can totally handle it! he's handled it this long already! no problems so far! but......perhaps there are problems so far.

i didn't want to do anything so strong as Drop Hints on the subject, and i don't think i did, but i am open to the interpretation of this fic that is phoenix lies to himself and miles so thoroughly that he destroys the drift test and disables them worse. again, not committed: i stand by me and emma's decision in IBL, which is that miles has to want to live for their drift to succeed (as much as a drift between two basically drift-incompatible people can succeed lol), so the test in this fic was never going to resolve anything fully. but i leave open the possibility that phoenix made it worse!

and then he gives the cancer to klavier lol. because sometimes when the world is shit all you have are stopgaps i guess!!

#in better light #i could keep going sorry. very into my own fic. but this is so long already. and i need to go to the gym so so badly #dvd commentary meme

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bluethepineapple · 1 year

Text

Harry and Hermione: Balancing Acts, Effort, and Compromise

One of my favorite aspects of Harry and Hermione's dynamic is the way it is marked by conflict. @ashesandhackles' meta over here expands on the way Harry's relationship with conflict evolve over time. For my own piece however, I wish to focus on the nature of Harry and Hermione's conflict, especially, and the way they add nuance and complexity of their relationship.

Given that the height of their tension appears in Order of the Phoenix, I will focus my exploration on their dynamic in this book.

Hermione has Harry's number. She gets how he thinks, how he feels, and knows full well how he will react in any situation they come across. We see this in how she greeted him when they first meet in OotP.

"HARRY! Ron, he’s here, Harry’s here! We didn’t hear you arrive! Oh, how are you? Are you all right? Have you been furious with us? I bet you have, I know our letters were useless — but we couldn’t tell you anything, Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn’t, oh, we’ve got so much to tell you, and you’ve got to tell us..."

She knows full well that the silence will bother him. She understands that he would feel angry at the isolation and opens up their conversation with an apology and explanation.

This is an ongoing theme in OotP. The problem with Hermione is that as much as she understands how Harry's head is going, her position in whatever argument they are having is often diametrically opposite to his. And she doesn't know how to get him to see her side of the bargain.

Harry is itching to join the Order and fight, but Hermione understands (and agrees) with the need to keep them out of the loop. Harry doesn't feel qualified to teach DADA, but Hermione believes he can succeed. Harry doesn't want to share his experiences in the graveyard with anyone, feeling that what he had given should have been enough, but Hermione understands the curiosity and skepticism of everyone else and so pushes him to share anyway.

In OotP, Hermione is dealing with two separate and often conflicting agendas when it comes Harry. There is the war effort (eg. Umbridge, the DA, counter-propaganda) in which she recognizes Harry to be an extremely valuable resources, and there is Harry himself, her friend who is hurting deeply.

OotP is a balancing act for Hermione, and the problem in their relationship is that there is actually no way to balance both. Giving Harry the time and space he needs requires that she put her plans on hold. Her plans mean pretty much forcing Harry to do extremely painful things he would rather not do.

And so, failing to strike a balance that works, we see Hermione choose the war over Harry's well-being. It's not an easy choice though, and we see her try to be Harry's friend even if that friendship jeopardizes her painstaking plans.

We see this best in the Hog's Head. This chapter opens with Hermione's repeated assurance to Harry that these people just want to hear Harry's side.

We can therefore infer that her pitch to them was that they come to Hog's Head and Harry will tell them what they need to know.

"I’ve told you, they just want to hear what you’ve got to say,” said Hermione soothingly; but Harry continued to look at her so furiously that she added quickly, “You don’t have to do anything yet, I’ll speak to them first."

But the moment the meeting shifts, and these newcomers demand the story that was promised to them, Hermione backpedals hard.

"Zacharias Smith,” said the boy, “and I think we’ve got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who’s back." “Look,” said Hermione, intervening swiftly, “that’s really not what this meeting was supposed to be about —"

She sees Harry's discomfort, and despite the success of the meeting hinging on his story, she tries to divert the attention away from him anyway. She's protecting him at the expense of her meeting.

But an interesting thing happens - stubborn Harry Potter CONCEDES.

“It’s okay, Hermione,” said Harry. It had just dawned upon him why there were so many people there. He felt that Hermione should have seen this coming. Some of these people — maybe even most of them — had turned up in the hope of hearing Harry’s story firsthand. “What makes me say You-Know-Who’s back?” he asked, looking Zacharias straight in the face. “I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn’t believe him, you don’t believe me, and I’m not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone.”

He tells her it's okay and then proceeds to give up his stubborn reticence to support her. He compromises and tells them a version of the story he feels comfortable sharing with these strangers.

While understanding doesn't come easily to both of them, there is clear and concentrated effort from both parties to try. They listen to what the other person has to say. They freely voice their counter-arguments. They figure out compromises and accommodations that they can both live with.

We see this best even in what is arguably one of the biggest and most important fight between them: Sirius's rescue in OotP.

The interesting part here is that Hermione's approach is actually all wrong (at least at first). Her comment on his saving-people-thing has him becoming defensive. And upon seeing this, Hermione CHANGES track.

"I’m trying to say — Voldemort knows you, Harry! He took Ginny down into the Chamber of Secrets to lure you there, it’s the kind of thing he does, he knows you’re the — the sort of person who’d go to Sirius’s aid! What if he’s just trying to get you into the Department of Myst —"

She elaborates on her points, explains what she means in ways that not only Harry can understand, but also makes him feel less judged and attacked.

And it works - Harry understands. More importantly he LISTENS.

"But if this is a trick of V-Voldemort’s — Harry, we’ve got to check, we’ve got to —” “How?” Harry demanded. “How’re we going to check?"

Considering Harry's mindset here, it's actually quite impressive that Hermione managed to change his mind as much as she did. We can see here that he is in complete panic. He dismissed Ron and Ginny's protests outright. He is losing his head and wants to go charging ahead, Voldemort be damned.

But he listens to Hermione. He pays attention to what she has to say, and he does adjust his course of action according to her advice no matter how begrudgingly.

All of this is to say that Harry and Hermione's relationship is defined by compromise above all. It is a constant negotiation between the two of them, and this pattern persists all the way through HBP and DH.

Hermione insists that something dodgy is going on with the Potions book, so Harry let's her check it. Harry wants to stay in Grimmauld Place in DH, so Hermione goes with him. They both decide to go to Godric's Hollow, and while Hermione wants to focus on finding mission-relevant information, she looks for the Potter's graves too. Because that mattered to Harry.

What makes Harry and Hermione's relationship so compelling is how hard they try for each other. Their relationship only survives through a lot of effort on both sides. There is nothing instinctive or easy about the way communicate with each other. But they also love and respect each other enough that they willingly put in all the effort necessary to make it work between them.

From OotP onwards, Harry and Hermione stand as equals. They fight together, support each other, and it is only when they work together that they manage to see their missions through.

#harmione #harry-hermione friendship #depending on how you read it #hermione granger #harry potter #hermione meta #harry meta #hp meta #since ttb is having ootp discussion #ive decided to dust this off and post here lol #my metas

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gx-gameon · 3 months

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More about Jaden growing up with Yugi and the DM crew

He doesn’t have favorites in his family but he has different relationships with each of them.

Yugi

is his Dad and his hero.

The king of game!

The one who saved him from the orphanage.

He’s also super kind and teaches Jaden how to take care of himself and his friends.

Seto

is his Oto-san.

He’s more strict, way more strict than Dad. But he obviously cares for Jaden.

He’s so protective and isn’t great at showing his emotions.

But he loves hard and deep. He’d rip the moon from the sky if Jaden, Yugi, or Mokuba asked.

Jaden likes superhero’s? And he really loves the Elemental hero cards? But theirs only four of them, and they’re super weak? That won’t do. He reaches out to Pegasus about making more hero cards.

At first he tries to make them a private collection just for Jaden but Yugi finds out and scolds him. He can’t give Jaden his own archetype! (Especially when Jaden already made his own) so the cards are realeased to the public. But you best believe Seto got three copies of every Hero card for his son.

The Destiny hero’s infuriate him. “How come that kid (Aster Phoenix) gets his own private set of hero’s but our son can’t, Yugi?”

In actually he feels a lot of guilt over sending Jaden’s cards to space. Jaden doesn’t remember, but they found the records of it. Seto sent Jaden’s soul monster and defender (neo spacians and Yubel) to space and has been trying to get them back ever since. Until he can get his son’s cards back to him the least he can do is make sure Jaden has cards he can trust. (His idea, not Jaden’s or Yugi’s)

He couldn’t imagine someone sending his blue eyes away from him forever. He has the records of Jaden’s powers lashing out after they took Yubel from him. (He needs to get those cards back for his son)

Atem

Atem adores Jaden. And Jaden adores his uncle Atem.

Atem has always dotted on Jaden. He’s truly grateful for this second chance at life and the opportunity to be part of Yugi’s family.

He’s also very protective of Yugi and his son. Yugi and their friends fought so hard for the world. They deserve to have a peaceful life now. And Atem will defend them the same way they defended and helped him.

Once they find out about Jaden’s powers and blocked memories, Atem becomes even more protective then he was before.

He feels a lot of camaraderie with Jaden. Not just the missing memories, but also the shadow powers. Though Jaden’s comes from the Gentle Darkness and Arems from his time wilding the millennium items.

Atem always shows Jaden little magic tricks and uses his powers to play with Jaden. Even being duel spirits to life. Jaden can’t see spirits until his entrance exam but he grew up with someone who could. So he doesn’t feel like he’s going crazy when he starts seeing and hearing spirits.

Atem wanted to try and unblock Jaden’s powers but Yugi had been worried. His boy was so young and what happens if his powers lash out again. He doesn’t want Jaden to blame himself if anyone gets hurt because he’s a little kid who had a tantrum. Atem agrees but still works with Jaden. His powers will unlock one day. It’s best he’s prepared and knows that he doesn’t have to fear himself. Yugi agrees, Atem would never go against Yugi’s will.

Joey

Don’t tell the others but… Joey is Jaden’s favorite uncle. (Mainly don’t tell Seto, Atem, or Mokuba)

Joey is so fun for Jaden. He’s silly and energetic and matches Jaden’s energy.

He duels Jaden and it’s so fun. Seto can’t bring himself to go easy on any one. Yugi and Atem go easy on him, but they won’t give him the game, he learns a lot from all three, but Joey? Joey’s crazy.

Joey will pick up booster packs and they will make random decks and duel. Just for fun. Just to learn. Just for fun. Yes your deck is your heart, but theirs a lot to learn from quickly cobbling together a deck.

When Jaden’s older, Joey is the first one to break out his real deck on him (well besides Seto, who knows no chill) when Jaden beats Joey’s real deck for the first time he’s so pumped, and so is Joey. His littlest buddy is an amazing duelist!

Joey is so laid back. He loves dueling and he’s serious about it. But he remembers it’s a game. It’s fun. Something Seto’s never been good at. Atem struggles with (trauma) Yugi knows but his deck is almost unbeatable. All three of them love the game for the strategy, Joey’s here for fun and chaos. Yes he’s strategic but he also chaotic and a risk taker.

Jaden takes after him in a lot of ways. Jaden love’s strategy to, he’s learned form the best. But at duel academy? If he was like either of his father’s his identical would be blown so fast. So it’s a good thing he takes after Joey. No one thinks the prince of games to be a laid back slacker. But he learned from the best, Joey. (If Seto ever heard that statement he’d set the city on fire.

#joey wheeler #yugioh gx #judai yuki #yugi moto #jaden yuki #yugi mutou #yami yugi #yugioh #atem #pharaoh atem #seto kaiba #Yugi raises Jaden #rivalshipping

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captainsophiestark · 4 months

Text

Galentine's Day

Platonic!Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Top Gun

Summary: Natasha and her best friend are about to spend their first ever Galentine's Day apart, since Natasha's in Miramar for training. That is, unless her best friend has something to say about it.

Word Count: 2,683

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: Happy early Galentine's Day to everybody who celebrates!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"I'm sorry. I tried so many times to get leave, but I just couldn't make it happen. This training's mandatory, and there's no chance I can get away until it's over."

"That's okay," I said, giving my best friend my most convincing understanding-but-sad face. "We were bound to be in different places for Galentine's Day, eventually."

Natasha huffed. "I guess. It just felt like we'd always find a way to make it work, you know?"

"I know. But at least we can say a little Happy Galentine's Day via FaceTime!"

Nat sighed. "Yeah, I guess it's better than nothing. So do you have any plans today? I'm basically going from this call to lectures with brass to flying with a bunch of guys including the Bagman, so... not an ideal Galentines Day."

I grimaced. "That sounds rough. Try not to let them get you down! And, actually, speaking of plans... I'm so sorry, but I have to go. I promised to help a friend move, since we couldn't go do any of our usual celebration today, and they're expecting me in like ten minutes."

"Oh. Oh, yeah, that's okay. I should actually probably get prepared for the start of our training for the day, but... have an amazing day, alright? You're the best."

"Noyou."

We shared a smile that quickly faded. She clearly didn't want to say goodbye, and I'd ruin the surprise if I looked like I was in a rush to get off the phone.

"Well... I'll talk to you later?" I said, trying to sound hesitant. Nat took a deep breath and smiled.

"Yeah. Text me when you're free and we'll figure it out."

I nodded, gave her a little wave, then hung up the call. I grinned. That had gone perfectly. I was confident she had no idea I was outside the Hard Deck, right now. She was going to be so surprised.

My childhood best friend, Natasha Trace, and I had a long-standing tradition of celebrating Galentine's Day together to celebrate our friendship, get together no matter where in the world we were, and do whatever the hell we wanted as long as it was together. This was the first year where we wouldn't be able to do that—at least, as far as Natasha knew.

In reality, I'd found a way to cancel my schedule conflicts and buy a flight to San Diego to surprise her. I'd managed to get in touch with Rooster, one of her closer aviator friends, to get her schedule, and after keeping the secret for a month and a half I was finally going to tell her. She would be so excited.

I took a deep breath, then crossed the remaining parking lot space to get to the Hard Deck. I pushed open the door and stepped in to find more than a few Navy pilots hanging around, which tracked with just about everything Nat had ever told me about this place. It didn't take me long to find my friend, thankfully, as she was heading for me and the door with Rooster trailing behind her.

"Phoenix, don't you want to play another round of pool? We can't let Hangman win!" he protested, clearly trying to stall her. I smiled to myself and headed in their direction.

"No, I don't, Rooster," she said. "I've got some things to take care of, I'll see you at training, alright?"

Rooster looked ready to keep arguing, but then he looked up and caught sight of me. He stopped in his tracks and smiled at me, and I gave him a little nod before turning my attention to Nat.

"I hope you can ditch those things you've gotta take care of for your best friend," I said, an absolutely shit-eating grin spreading across my own face. Nat's head snapped up at the sound of my voice, and her jaw dropped when she saw me standing just a few feet from her.

"You- You're supposed to be- But- Dude!"

She rushed forward, absolutely beaming, and wrapped me in a bone crushing hug. I laughed and hugged her right back, just as tight.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, incredulous laughter dripping from her words.

"Surprising you! Obviously!" We smiled at each other as we finally pulled apart, Natasha still shaking her head like she couldn't believe I was here. "When you said you couldn't get leave, I started problem solving to find a way to get time off work. It wasn't easy and I didn't want to get your hopes up, so I didn't tell you. Then once I got approved, I thought it would be more fun if I could surprise you! So I got Rooster to tell me your schedule and then I got on a plane!"

Nat whirled around to look at Rooster, who just grinned back at her, then turned back to me.

"That's sneaky as hell, but also incredible. Oh my god, I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too," I said, grinning as I closed the distance to wrap her in a one-armed hug. "And I have everything planned for tonight, the minute you're free of Navy stuff. We're gonna do Galentine's Day right. But I didn't plan anything for this morning, so... what do you want to do?"

She shot me a look that I knew meant trouble.

"How about beating all the other Navy pilots at pool?"

"Sounds perfect."

We ended up at the pool table in the back of the bar for the better part of an hour, before the pilots had to leave for training. Nat and I had gotten good at pool in high school, since it was fun to absolutely run the table together at parties, and we wiped the floor with the other pilots in every round we played. By the time they headed off to training, Nat had at least one game each to hold over their heads until the next time they played.

Since Nat couldn't get leave, she still had to spend most of the day doing Navy stuff. Luckily for me, we were in San Diego. It was an absolutely beautiful day, so I killed time waiting for Nat by walking along the beach and relaxing in the sand. I finally left for my hotel room with a little over an hour to spare before she would be free from training.

We met up right outside the base at Miramar, after Nat had changed out of her uniform and flight suit. She grinned as she walked out to meet me at my car, and I grinned right back.

"So where are we going?" she called. I just smiled.

"Get in the car and find out!"

She shook her head, but she didn't protest, and within a few minutes we were on our way. I had our favorite playlist, one we made our senior year of high school, playing over the speakers, and it felt for a second like we'd never left our hometown, driving around in the evening together getting up to mischief.

"So, how was training?" I asked. She hummed.

"It was fine. We're learning a lot, actually, which I really didn't expect. We're all already the best of the best. Bagman's being obnoxious as always, which is the main downside."

"You like Bob though, right? Your new WSO?"

"Yeah, he's great. He's become a pretty good friend, too, which makes some of the other idiots easier to deal with."

"Thank God for that."

"No kidding."

We rode in comfortable silence for a little further, until Nat finally clocked our destination not far ahead of us.

"No. No, no way, we are not going there."

"Yes we are! Come on, it'll be fun!"

"I am not doing karaoke."

"You've done it before! You even have a good voice! What's the problem?"

"Because it's Galentine's Day, and I can pretty much guarantee you that at least half of the guys in my training group are in there or will be soon."

I shot her a look as I pulled into a parking space.

"You think a bunch of Navy pilots with giant egos are going to be at karaoke on a Tuesday night?"

"Yes. In fact, I know they are."

I snorted. "Well then they're ridiculous and have no leg to stand on judging us. We'll just ignore them, have a blast, and then move on to the Galentine's Day finale when we're ready."

Nat sighed and shook her head, but she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the car door anyway.

"Fine. Just be prepared to get heckled on a level our high school classmates could only dream of."

"Oh, I feel confident we can give back just as good of heckling as we get."

The corner of her mouth quirked up at the idea, and we headed inside. I'd booked us a table, and we could order dinner and drinks here to go with the singing, which made it absolutely perfect. We just had time to place our orders, put our names in the karaoke queue, and settle in before a loud group of aviators came stumbling over each other and through the front door.

I turned to Nat with my mouth open, shaking my head in disbelief.

"I can't believe you were right. Do they seriously have nothing better to do tonight?"

She just raised an eyebrow and gave me a look, and I sighed. This didn't really change anything, luckily for us. So we'd have a little bit of an audience that Nat knew. We'd done karaoke in front of our entire high school before, and this definitely wouldn't be more nerve-wracking than that.

The other aviators didn't notice us right away, giving Nat and I time to chat and catch up and swap stories from our lives in peace. Our drinks arrived, and not too long after, we were up for our first duet of the night. We shared a smile and did the handshake we'd come up with in middle school, then headed up to the stage.

A few of the aviators whooped when they saw us, and I saw Nat trying to hide a smile. Like pool, we were good at this, and if there was one thing I knew about my best friend, it was that she loved showing off, especially when she could flex on the guys.

The music started and Nat and I fell into our familiar, ridiculous routine, dancing and singing our hearts out to a performance we'd had down for the better part of a decade. The audience faded away a little as my best friend and I hammed it up, enjoying the opportunity to be silly with each other again. By the time we finished, the crowd was cheering for us, and I could tell from the looks on the faces of the other Top Gunners that they were well and truly impressed. As they should've been.

We spent the rest of the night laughing, drinking, and occasionally singing. Some of Nat's friends wandered over to talk or try to join us, but we chased them all off after a few minutes. They seemed nice enough, but the whole point of Galentine's Day was to spend it with my best friend, with no distractions (especially from men). The one and only exception for the entire night was Rooster, who convinced us to join him for a three-person song on stage. His energy matched ours enough that we said yes, and we had the whole place rocking and cheering and singing by the time our song was over.

"That was great! Phoenix, I didn't know you were so good at karaoke!" Rooster called over the noise of the bar as we headed off the stage. It was getting late, but the energy of the bar just seemed to be ratcheting up more and more, no one showing signs of tiring.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Rooster," she said, shooting him a grin. He laughed, then turned to me.

"You should be here all the time. Do you know what I'd give to regularly see Hangman lose at pool?"

I laughed. "Nat can take him any day of the week, with or without me!"

"Yeah, but he knows that. Watching you clean his clock was even better than usual."

"Well maybe next time I need your help planning a surprise visit, it'll be to surprise Hangman with absolute destruction in a bunch of competitions."

"All you have to do is say the word, and you can count me in to help."

The three of us shared a smile, and then Rooster gestured back towards the small karaoke stage.

"Should I put us in for another song?"

Natasha and I shook our heads at the same time, which got an eyebrow raise out of Rooster.

"Sorry, but it's Galentine's Day," I said.

"Which means we're not hanging out with any of the male population of my program. You got one exception, Roos, but that's it."

"It was nice to meet you in person, though! And thanks again for the help surprising Nat!"

Rooster just stared at us like he wasn't quite sure whether we were serious. We didn't give him a chance to formulate a question before turning around, arm in arm, and heading back to our table. I heard him bark out a laugh as we went, but neither of us turned around.

"So what's the plan?" asked Nat as she slid back into her seat. "Do we need to come up with our next song, or do you have something else on our itinerary?"

"Something else! So finish your drink, because we're out of here."

She raised an eyebrow at me, but didn't ask any questions as she did as I said. She knew me well enough to know she'd never get the details of a surprise out of me, if I didn't want to give them.

A few moments later, we paid and headed out of the bar. We didn't give the other aviators a backwards glance before stepping out into the cool night air of San Diego. I smiled, taking in a deep breath and linking my arm with Nat's again.

"So where are we going?" she asked after doing the same.

"Don't you worry. Just follow me."

She shook her head, but she was grinning nonetheless as we began our short walk. Less than five minute later, we found ourselves at the edge of the beach, looking out at the night sky reflected against the dark water. I dropped my arm from Nat's to pull off my shoes, then stepped out into the sand.

"The beach feels like a good end to the holiday to me. What do you think?" I asked, turning back to look at Nat with a smile. She grinned, quickly ditching her own shoes to join me.

"I think you're right."

The two of us walked along the surf for a little while, before finding a spot we liked to sit down in the sand, shoulder to shoulder, looking out at the water while the waves gently lapped up on shore. I sighed, leaning back on my hands and staring up at the stars.

"I miss living near you," I mused. She sighed, dropping back onto her elbows, almost fully laid out on the sand.

"I miss living near you, too. But just think. When I eventually retire from the Navy, we can get houses next to each other and be ridiculous, chaos-causing women heading into our late middle age and still act like dumb twenty year-olds together."

I snorted. "Alright yeah, I'm definitely looking forward to that."

Natasha sighed, and we sat there in comfortable silence for a while, staring at the beautiful night before us. After a moment, I dropped my head onto her shoulder. We sat like that for a long time, just enjoying being in the same place again, at least for a little while.

I didn't want to leave in a few days; I wanted longer here, more time spent with my best friend in the world. But I knew, no matter how far apart we moved or how long we went without talking sometimes, she would always be there for me, and I would always be there for her. And no boyfriend, governmental agency, or other job or circumstance would ever come in the way of that.

We were forever-Galentines.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

Top Gun Taglist: @elenavampire21

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