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mamsieur · 7 months

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Used to it | Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Summary : Being Pete Mitchell's daughter has never been easy. But maybe one mission could bring you back together ?

TW : angst and fluff, angst with a happy ending, mention of alcohol, panic attack, canonical character death, age gap (reader is 27 and Bradley is 35)

Length : 7156 words

AN : I'm sorry for making Pete seem like a bad father but that man is not stable enough to handle a child in my opinion.

posted on AO3 July 12, 2023

You were 7 when your mother left your father, Pete Mitchell.

You didn't have many early memories of him. There were only the arguments with your mother, his departures on missions that left you in tears, the missed birthdays and Christmases. It’s all you’ve ever known so you were used to it and being a child, you found it normal.

You were 7 when your mother decided to move out, leaving your whole life behind. You remember crying your eyes out in protest. As your mom tried desperately to get you out of the house, you clung with all your might to Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw was 15 and your regular babysitter, though your mother thought of him as a son, Carole and her were really close. They liked to remind you that when you were 4, you proudly announced that you were going to marry him. Bradley was almost always around, and Pete was his godfather, and they had a bond you envied. Despite the eight-year age difference, you remember being very close to your "Bradbrad" . He never pushed you away, was always ready to play Lego or other board games with you. He even took you to the park or with him when he went to the theater with his friends - when the movies were kids friendly -.

You were 7 , and your whole world shattered. No more Bradley, no more hanging to the naval base to have a glimpse of your dad and his incredible plane, no more aunty Carole and her sweet singing. You had hated your mom for years before understanding you left for the best. She was finally happy ; not completely, she missed her friends and sometimes your father, but you could feel that she was happier away from the hustle and bustle of the navy, of your dad. You were not used to the strange calmness of the city, but your grandparents made it easy to adapt. Soon enough, you got used to the loving cocoon your mother succeeded to create around you.

You were 16, at your mother's funeral, when you had to accept the fact that you had to go back to live with Pete. When the two of you finally found each other in the crowd, he didn't say much, just gave you a few brief updates. You asked him about Bradley, a bit sad to not have seen him here, and he didn't have much to say. Only that the two of them were no longer as close as they had been.

The silence between you was uncomfortable.

Of course, Pete had kept in touch over the years, calling on your birthdays, sending a little something. You spent some Christmas with him when he wasn't working and a few days during the summer break ; but Pete Mitchell loved his work too much to focus on you. As long as you lived with your mother, Pete's absence from your life wasn't something you suffered from, at least not really.

You were used to it. Used to the absence, used to the missed calls, used to the Christmases with the attention of other aviators and their families but the ignorance of your dad, used to the unanswered phone calls. Used to his silence.

But now your mum was dead... and you were dreading having to join your father in California.

You were 16 and you didn't want to live with him, you already knew what would happen ; he'd go flying, on a mission or for his own pleasure, leaving you alone at home - if you could call it home. The hangar where he lived now was something you'd always hated . It had no place for anything or anyone other than his passion for the sky, for planes and speed. You didn't want to leave your new life, even though you loved California. Your school, your friends, your family, your routine. But you didn't really have much of a choice. You were 16. He was now your legal guardian and you didn't want to drag your grandparents into a custody battle. Even though part of you told yourself that your dad would probably agree to let you stay with them, you didn't want to take that chance. And you hoped he'd be more present, that you'd finally have the father you'd dreamed of, that your other friends had. If other military parents could be there for their children, why couldn't Pete?

Perhaps because Pete loved flying more than anything else in the world. The sky was his one true love.

Even though you knew it, you held out the faintest hope that he would finally take his responsibilities as a father. Unfortunately, Pete was still Pete. He wasn't cut out to be a father. A fun uncle, maybe. A parent, no. The fact that Bradley no longer spoke to him proved that.

You were 18 when you packed your bags and headed off to the naval school in Maryland. You wanted to be a pilot too. And you wanted to get away from that bloody hangar, so empty, so alone.

Pete wasn't there when you left. Not even a message or a note. Nothing at all.

You weren't even surprised.

It was Tom Kazansky - Uncle Tom - who had taken you to the airport. He had been more present in your life than your own father, even though you rarely saw him. You knew your relationship with Pete was a sensitive subject, and you knew when Tom gave him a hard time. Pete was suddenly more present - too present . He'd pop into your life for a few days, trying to be the cool or bossy dad, but it always ended in a fight.

You hated it when he did that. You hated the way he would act like your friend, or like a strict parent, talking about curfew and how no boys were allowed in his 'home'. You hated the way he would try to be the father that he had never been in your whole life. You hated the way he tried to convince you that he was trying to change, that he'd be there for you.

But you couldn't blame Uncle Tom for trying to shake your father. He had children too, but despite his love of the air, he had been a present parent to them.

But some days were not as bad as others. Sometimes, when he was in a good mood, Pete would take you flying. And even though it was hard to admit, you were a bit of a flier yourself. The feeling of freedom, of being alone in a comforting way. It was mesmerizing.

So, without him knowing, you decided to join the navy after graduation. You took your mother's name, Evans , so that you would not attract attention. Only Tom knew, so your dad wouldn't and couldn't pull your papers like he did with Bradley.

You found out that he had done this when you saw Bradley one day in the summer before you made your choice. At first you did not recognize him. He was 26 now. He was taller, more muscular and had a 80s mustache that suited him well - puberty had treated him really good. He was the spitting image of his father, whom you'd only seen in photographs and heard about when Tom and Pete reminisced over drinks about the past.

But Bradley had the same look in his eyes as his mother, Carole.

As a child, you adored Carole. She was always there to comfort you when your parents were at odds, picking you up from kindergarten when your father was on a mission and your mother was at work… She was kind of a second mom. You went to her funeral with your mother eight years ago, you never cried so much.

The summer of your reunion with Bradley had been the summer of his return from the Naval Academy, which he had graduated from with honors. He was a very good pilot and would soon be going on a mission. The day before he left, you snuck out of the hangar to meet him at a nearby bar. He had celebrated his departure with you and a handful of friends, promising to keep in touch as often as possible. As he left, you realized how much you'd missed your Bradbrad.

You were 18, and you remembered how quiet the ride to the airport had been. Part of you wanted to stay. You loved California. It was close to the ocean, the people were friendly, and at the Navy base everyone knew you.

You'd even earned a nickname, the call sign you hoped to use soon : Tempest . It was a bittersweet memory of a stormy night when Pete "forgot" to pick you up from baseball practice. You had landed on the base, mad as hell, soaked to the bone. You'd yelled at your father as hard as the storm had raged. It had been a huge fight. And of course, everyone had heard. Surprisingly, many had defended you rather than your father. You were relieved then. And to cheer you up while your dad was embarrassed, Tom took you to your favorite fast food and laughed with you about the scene. "You walked in there like a damn storm, a tempest ! Heck, that should be your call sign when you join the ranks !" You smiled as you remembered his raspy laugh and all the stories he told you about his days at Topgun .

It was through those stories that you learned a little bit more about your father, The Maverick . His accomplishments, his reckless attitude in the air, his urge to always define what’s possible and pushing the limits. Your desire, your need , to join the Navy to become a pilot only grew, digging a hole of longing for the sky deep inside you. You wanted your father to see you, to acknowledge you. You wanted to be more like him.

You were 27 years old when you were called to the NAS North Island for a "top secret" mission that required "the best of the best". To your surprise, you were one of the youngest and one of the only women. But you'd missed California too much to worry about such details. Like many pilots, you had joined the Hard Deck for a drink the day before training began. You soon met Natasha "Phoenix" Trace and Jake "Hangman" Seresin. Two strong personalities. Then came Javy “Coyote” Machado and Robert "Bob" Floyd. He was discreet, a bit shy. And before you could introduce yourself to the others, someone entered the bar and caught Jake's eye.

"Bradshaw. As I live and breathe."

"Hangman. You look... good." His voice was behind you and you didn't dare turn around to see him.

"Well, I am good. I'm very good Rooster ."

You let the two men talk, then Bradley greeted Natasha and the others. At last, his gaze landed on you. You couldn't help but smile stupidly. He looked so surprised and happy. "Y/N Tempest Evans?!"

"Hey Bradbrad ..." you smiled and happily accepted his embrace. He squeezed you against him and asked you all about your journey, which you happily did, while in the distance the bell rang, indicating that a customer couldn't pay his bill and had to be kicked out. Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you recognized your father, but Jake and Javy had already grabbed him by the arms and dragged him outside. You didn’t have the time to really think about it, Bradley taking you by the hand to sing with him at the piano. You laughed and followed him with the others in his Great balls of fire ’s reprise. It had been a great night.

The next day, at the first meeting, you thought your heart stopped when you saw that your instructor was actually Pete... and from the look on his face, he wasn't happy to see you there. Before the meeting was over, you heard his voice call your name ; it had a barely disguised note of anger. "Lieutenant Evans. You’ll stay after training, we'll have a word."

Bradley looked at you, concerned. He knew that you had never told Pete about the Navy, but he didn't know that even after nine years, your father was still unaware of your career. The others were confused and you could feel questioning gazes on you. Great way to begin this thing , you thought.

You were 27 and a very good pilot. An excellent one. One of the best. That's why you were here after all, wasn’t it ? You walked in your father’s footsteps, perhaps as talented as him at that age. But you were also as reckless as him, living up to your callsign. A tempest was never soft or delicate, neither were you. You had risked your life so many times in your five years of service. Tom often told you that you were just like your father and that it scared him. You didn’t think, you just did , you wanted to go faster, higher and further. Acting like the storm that you were, leaving your enemies confused by what had just happened. The adrenaline, the speed, the immensity of the sky, the feeling of freedom... you finally understood why Pete loved being in his plane so much. You felt a little closer to him in those moments.

And yet, in nine years of absence, he had never once contacted you. You had disappeared one day and he hadn't even looked for you. Your uncle had promised not to say anything about your career, but Pete hadn't even been interested in why or where you were going.

Seeing him angry made you furious . How could he have the nerve to be mad at you?

After the training and the 200 pushups you had to do because - of course - you didn't beat your old man, you stayed on deck and waited for the others to leave. Bradley gave you a little squeeze on the shoulder, as if to give you strength, and reluctantly left. You heard Hondo telling Pete to calm himself before saying things he might regret out of anger.

Once again, the silence between you and your father was heavy.

You couldn't take your eyes off him, waiting for him to finally speak. You could see that he was trying to stay calm. But you already felt like exploding . You could feel the reproaches, the so-called concern. You could feel that he wanted to push you away .

"Y/N... how did you... you went to the Academy behind my back?!"

"Iceman," you replied simply, your eyes and voice cold. "And you never asked where I was either."

"You-?! I should have known, you lied to me."

“It’s not lying if you’re not asked.” you mutter, “You taught me that.”

“Now’s not the time to play that game Y/N,” he snapped, "you can't be here."

"With all due respect, Captain, that's not your call."

You really tried to remain calm, knowing that the others must have been listening nearby - especially Jake. You didn't want to draw any more attention, but you felt your blood boiling under your skin.

"I will talk to Vice Admiral Simpson about this. I don't suppose anyone's made the connection between us. But now there's clearly a conflict of interest-"

"You have no right to take this mission away from me. It's not fair," you gasped, eyes wide.

"I am your father ! I can and will do it."

"What ?! No ! No, you can't ! 9 years of nothing but silence and now you're acting like a worried father ?!" you snapped, moving towards him and pointing an accusing finger. A nervous laugh escaped you and you sighed, pursing your lips. "Why do you always have to act like this ? You've never acted like a father to me, except to get in my way !"

"Get in your way ? No ! I care about you-"

"Really ?!" you cut him off, raising your voice, "Then where have you been for 9 years ?! What did Tom have to say to you that you weren't even lookin' for me ? Where was all this care when I left and you were not here ? Where were you huh ?! Where was all that concern ?!"

Pete's eyes widened and he searched for words. He should have known that he could not argue with your point so he just huffed then scolded. "I'm your captain, Lieutenant Evans ! Keep your voice down !"

"Oh, now it's not my father talking ?!" you couldn't hold back a nervous, fake laugh. "You see how you are ?! Always twisting things your way ?! Why are you avoiding that conversation ? Why are you running away again ?!" you’re almost screaming, inches close to him, eyes locked in his.

"Lieutenant Evans !" he growled. You grumbled and let out a heavy sight, calming yourself. You stepped back and clenched your fists along your body.

"Will that be all, Captain Mitchell ?"

You clenched your fists even harder, your knuckles turning white. You wanted to physically shake him to finally have answers. But you couldn’t, at least not here, not now.

"Y/N..." he huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Will that be all, Captain ?" you repeated, your voice slightly trembling. Tears of rage threatened to fall. You held them back, too proud to cry in front of him. Pete looked at you and sighed quietly.

"You're dismissed Lieutenant Evans..."

You left the deck with a quick stride. Your heart was pounding in your chest, a mixture of anger, frustration and sadness. Of course, the rest of the squadron was there, already clean and changed. Seeing the anger in your eyes, no one said a word, not even Hangman. He just stared at you, confused, as you slammed the door of the changing room.

Later that evening, as the squadron relaxed at the bar, Jake couldn't help but bring up the earlier scene.

"So our dear Tempest's dad is the famous Maverick?"

" He's not my father ," you muttered, finishing another beer. "My genitor maybe. But he's not my father."

"Why Evans if Mitchell's your old man?" Jake insisted.

You could hear Bradley and Natasha telling him to drop it, but he kept coming back. You could feel your anger rising again. You downed another beer and slammed the empty bottle down on the table.

"Tell me, Bagman , weren’t you taught to keep your mouth shut about things that don't concern you? I'm sure your mama taught you some manners, didn't she? Now shut up before I put my fist through your face," you growled, half drunk, half angry. Jake scoffed and held his hands up in defense while Bob stopped you from approaching him. Seeing your father enter the bar only made you feel worse. And it took all your patience not to slit Jake's throat on the spot as he continued his overly curious and unpleasant comments with his snide attitude.

Bradley went with you to get some fresh air as he wasn't too keen on seeing Pete either. When you arrived at the beach, a wave of sadness washed over you. You knew that your father would do everything in his power to get you out of this mission, but what was worse was that he didn't even try to talk to you, to reconnect. Your shoulders shook and you couldn't hold back the tears any longer. Only a sobbing hiccup betrayed you and Bradley rushed to take you in his arms. You felt the strength leave your legs and the two of you ended up sitting in the sand, crying your eyes out and clinging to Bradley. "I've got you... Let it all out..." he murmured between two kisses on the top of your head. His big hands gently stroked your back, letting go of all your pain. "It's okay, baby girl... it's okay..."

Bradley and you practically lived together now. You’ve inherited your mom’s old house by the ocean and it’s confier than being on base. So those kinds of pet names were almost common now. But this time you didn’t blush at it, your emotions a mess.

You cried against him for a long time, as you hadn't done for many years. Rooster held you until you calmed down. "It's not fair..." you whispered, sniffling. "He's going to take me off the mission..."

"He won't be able to... Ice recommended you... there's nothing he can do about it..."

You shrugged, not really sure if Tom could help you. He was very ill and you didn't want to tire him out with your disagreements with your father.

“He’s just an old dickhead, don’t worry…” Bradley tried to cheer you up but you’re too distraught to play along. After a little less than an hour later, you find the force to get up and you head home with him. You fall asleep in the car and wake up the next morning in your bed.

There wasn't much time left before the mission. Training sessions were coming up and so were your fights with Pete. Cyclone hadn't pulled you out of the mission, but you weren't sure if it was to spite your father or because he felt you were capable of succeeding, just like your comrades.

Days passed at an alarming pace. The team slowly bonded through group exercises and moments of relaxation, especially with the game your father had invented: dogfight football.

You couldn't lie, it felt good to have such moments. But your father still didn't talk to you and you were still angry. You remained professional, but you couldn't stand his fatherly attitude towards you.

All your hopes of renewing real ties disappeared when you learned of Tom's death. You had seen him the day before and he had made you promise to try to take care of Pete. His funeral was one of the hardest moments of your life.

And because bad news never comes alone, the mission was moved up by a week. Pete was temporarily relieved of his duties, as Admiral Simpson still believed his plan of attack was doomed to failure. Of course, your father, in his legendary arrogance and cockiness, proved him wrong with an unauthorized flight. Hope rose in the team but it was still a very risky plan.

Cyclone decided to make Pete team leader, and not surprisingly, he didn't choose you as his wingman. Part of you was angry because you felt you could do it, and another part of you was mortified when he announced that his choice would be Bradley. This mission was suicide, and you couldn't afford to lose them both. You couldn't afford to lose anyone in the squadron, but these two, it was just too much.

You didn't catch up with Pete as much as you wanted to, there were still so many questions left unanswered, so much time to make up for… You hadn't been able to make things right with your dad, you hadn't been able to tell him that you had this passion for aviation because of him. You hadn't been able to tell him that you regretted not telling him about the academy, that you regretted the 9 years of distance between you...

And you didn't spend enough time with Bradley.

Sure, you were always glued to each other in your free time, taking walks on the beach, talking and singing together at the Hard Deck piano, having movie nights... but you didn't want it to stop. Not after you'd half confessed how you felt about him after a few too many drinks, telling him that your 4-year-old declaration still stood. He laughed and told you that he hadn't forgotten either.

On the day of the mission, you barely managed to find your way to your father. "Captain?" your voice was louder than you had expected.

"Lieutenant Evans?"

"I... Before you go, I'd like to talk-"

"We'll talk when I get back."

"... Promise me you'll come back."

For a moment, you were that five-year-old girl again, watching her father leave. Pete must have seen it in your eyes and climbed down from the cockpit to take you in his arms. "I promise I'll come back in one piece, kiddo..." You hugged him tightly and nodded in agreement. After a few seconds, you let go and let him settle down. You ran to Bradley and made him promise you the same. He smiled confidently, even though you knew he was stressed. "Don't worry, we've got a Star Wars marathon to watch," he smiled before gently and discreetly kissing your forehead. You blushed and nodded, a worried little smile on your face.

Reluctantly, you left the track and joined Jake. You were glued to your radios, following the progress of the mission. Everything was going well until two enemy fighters spotted them.

You stopped breathing.

First they had Bradley in sight and locked on.

The enemy fired.

But your father took the brunt of the missiles and saved Rooster.

Your brain didn't know how to process all this information and shut down when you heard Bradley's decision to go after Pete before getting shot down too.

You don't remember much else. All you knew is that Jake had to leave in a hurry to find and rescue them. When they landed with that really out beat up F-14, you rushed out on deck to greet them, swallowing all your worry and anger at their unconscious behavior for the moment.

Once ashore, the entire crew decided to celebrate their success at Penny's Bar, dragging Pete with them. You stayed close to Bradley, as if afraid that it was all a dream and that he wasn't really there. He wouldn't let go of you either, his arm tight around you. You felt like a schoolgirl, it was stupidly comfortable. You looked at Pete, who was happily chatting with Penny and other members of the team. You didn't want to spoil the evening with a discussion that was out of your control…

Around one o'clock you went out for some fresh air, leaving Bradley to play with those who hadn't returned home yet ; Reuben, Natasha, Mickey and Javy.

As a cold shiver ran through you, you felt a heavy jacket on your shoulders. You immediately recognized the peculiar smell ; old whiskey mixed with motor oil and a hint of cologne.

" Dad ? "

"I thought you wanted to talk ?" he asked quietly, moving toward the beach. You nodded and took his pinky with yours like a child, searching for your words.

"I'm sorry..." you breathed, holding back your tears. "For going to the Academy behind your back and not telling you… not talking to you for almost ten years... I know that giving news is supposed to go both ways and all, but... but you weren't even there when I left... and I guess... I guess I resented you as much as I wanted you to be there, you know ?" you sniffed before continuing your monologue. "I just wanted you to see me . ‘Cause… it’s because of you I wanted to go down this road, you gave me this love for flight, for speed, for the sky. I... I just wanted you to be happy that we finally had something in common, but... but you had already pulled Bradley's papers, so I didn't think and I just did what seemed most logical and easiest. Take Mom's name, ask Ice not to tell you. I know it was stupid… but I also know it would have hurt too much if you had stopped me. And... And then no news for nine years... It hurt even more. The Academy and my first years of service weren't what I thought they would be... it was rough and sometimes I just… I just wanted to call you to come and pick me from there… but… but I wouldn't change that for the world. Because I’m still a Mitchell and Mitchells never quit right ?” You took a few seconds, your gaze meeting his, to see if he wanted to intervene but he didn’t. He just looked at you, taking all the information you gave him. You let out a shaky breath, playing with the sleeves of his jacket nervously. “And I know you must and may resent me for the rest of my life, but… but I just wanted you to be proud of me and... and for us to finally be a family." You bit your lip, trying to calm the flow of emotions that came through.

The sky began to rumble and your father remained silent after your speech. A few tears rolled down your cheeks as he couldn't find the words.

"Please, Dad, say something..." you sighed, your voice breaking.

The rain began to fall slowly and Pete's silence was too much for your heart to take. He couldn't even look at you anymore. You thought you could take it ; you were used to his silenced treatment, used to the fact that he couldn’t express his feelings. But right now, you needed him to speak, to ease your worries, to confront you.

"Dad... please... I'm begging you... talk to me…" you repeated desperately.

You broke down again and cried like a little girl in front of your mute father. You hated that he couldn't open up to you and you hated that he saw you so frail, so fragile. Your sobs mingled with the rain, which grew heavier, the wind and waves making the silence deafening. You bit your lip and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, in vain.

"I know I'm not... I know you didn't plan… you didn’t want to have me with mom-"

"No, it's true... I never planned to be a father... The very idea of having children terrified me and still does," Pete interrupted you, "but... you're one of the most beautiful things, if not the most, that has ever happened to me. And I'm petrified of anything happening to you, I'm helpless on so many levels... and I... I didn't know how to be there when you needed me... I know I must have let you down a lot..." He sighed, catching his breath and holding back his own tears. "I thought... it would be best for both of us to let you have your freedom... but the weeks, months and years went by and I didn't have the guts to try to contact you. I was too ashamed... but Y/N, I never stopped loving you... you're my daughter... and even if you have my damn temper and your mom’s stubbornness," you couldn't hold back a little laugh and a slight smile despite your tears, which your father tenderly chased away with his thumb, "you'll always be my little girl, too eager to get on our little plane for a ride, passionate and fierce… I don’t resent you… I think I would have done it your way if my old man put me in this situation…" He allowed himself to cry as well as the two of you finally hugged each other, relieved of an enormous weight.

"I love you too, Dad... sorry for everything..." you mumbled against his shoulder.

"No, no… I’m sorry… It's my turn to apologize, sweetheart..."

The two of you lay embracing in the rain for a while, making up for years of distance in a few minutes. You were the first to let go. You once again took his hand like a child.

"We better get back before Hangman starts gossiping..."

"Or before Bradley starts worrying," Pete teased. You blushed and looked at him with wide eyes. "What? Like I haven't noticed the way you two look at each other. I'm not that blind kid!" He laughed “Ah… your mom and Carole would have been thrilled !”

You returned to the bar, soaking wet, chatting about anything and everything. Seeing you, Bradley's expression changed from worried to relieved, then back to worried as he noticed you were shivering a little from the cold. He politely left his conversation with Mickey to join you.

"Are you okay? Do you want to go home and change?"

"That would be a good idea..." you smiled at him. You had to admit you were exhausted from this rollercoaster of emotions. You said goodbye to the others from a distance, then to your father in a final hug, and followed Bradley back to his old blue Bronco. The two of you made your way to your small house.

Bradley was a good roommate. You each had your own room, but you often fell asleep together in front of the TV or on one of your beds after long late-night discussions. You liked the routine you created. And you hoped with all your might that nothing would change. But your feelings for him were becoming more and more obvious in your mind and heart. You wondered how much longer you could hide it.

Seeing you so silent, Bradley placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Are you all right, lil’ Tempest?"

His eyes never left the road as his thumb traced small circles on your jeans. A shiver ran through your entire body and you wished this contact would never end.

"Everything's fine Roo... don't worry..."

"Okay..."

He squeezed your knee again and left his hand on your thigh. The warmth of his palm made you shiver and you placed your hand on top of his shyly. Once again, you felt like a teenager. It was stupid.

The ride home was rather quiet, in a comforting way, Bradley driving carefully in the pouring rain and humming the song that passed on the radio. When he parked, you stayed in the car for a moment. You sensed that he had something he wanted to say to you, and he sensed the same thing on your side. After a few minutes of silence and shy glances, he smiled at you, got out of the car, and you followed. He ran to unlock the door and waited for you under the porch.

You wanted to run as well, but your legs felt heavy. That's when your anxiety decided to take over. The stress and worry of the past few days were finally catching up to you. As you saw Bradley step out into the rain with a worried expression, the conversation on the radio played in your head. Your father's F-18 had exploded, and Bradley was on his way to pick him up. And now it was his turn to go down. A huge pressure on your chest stopped you from breathing and new tears rolled down your cheeks. You couldn't move, pinned to the pavement. Silent sobs shook you as your vision blurred. You couldn't see or hear Bradley any more. You felt so alone, so cold. Your panic attack froze you under the heavy rain and you couldn't get out of it. You couldn't hear anything except the intense ringing in your ear. You wanted to throw up. The world spun around you as your mind screamed what the communications officer had said earlier, "Maverick's down ! Rooster's down !"

They were dead.

For the long forty minutes or so that followed, they were dead . And you were stuck in that loop. One minute everything was fine, the mission was a complete success. The next, the last two most important people in your life were dead. The ground began to feel strangely unstable as you fought harder to breathe. Eventually your legs gave out and you felt yourself fall, but you didn't hit the ground. You felt two arms around you, holding you securely but not too tightly, then lifting you up as if you weighed nothing. The buzzing in your ears slowly faded away and you didn't feel the rain on your skin anymore. You gasped for air when you finally heard Breadley call your name, concern in his voice. As you raised your eyes to look at him, a sudden relief washed over you and you couldn't help but sob again.

He was home. You were home. With him.

"What's going on, Y/N? Hey... Breathe... breathe and talk to me..." he said quietly.

"I thought... I thought you and Dad... you... you were dead..." you managed to say between sobbing hiccups. You clung to his shirt, afraid he would fade away. He smiled a little and kissed the top of your head as he cupped your cheeks with his calloused hands. Then he took your hands and laid them flat on his heart. You could feel it beating at a regular pace.

"I'm here. I’m okay. You're okay. I'm very much alive, Mav is too, and you're stuck with me, with us, little Tempest..."

"Yeah ? Promise ?" you sniffed, your lower lip still trembling.

"Yeah... Promise." he smiled at you again then hugged you tightly.

He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, the bristles of his mustache tickling you a little. One of your hands reached up to his neck, your fingers brushing his little hair. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, absorbing each other's presence. You felt so relaxed in his arms, as if you belonged there. Your heart fluttered as you heard him hum one of your favorite songs and then felt him beginning to slow dance with you, taking you peacefully to the bathroom. You were too exhausted and shaken from your panic attack to even ask him what he was doing. You just obliged and listened to him, hypnotized. He declared that you needed a long relaxing bath and in the meantime he would order pizza. He helped you take off your shoes and socks, then your hoodie. He kissed your forehead and let you finish undressing, leaving the bathroom to give you some privacy.

You couldn’t stay too long in the bath, your mind being too loud. You knew you would break down again if you weren’t close to him . Bradley made you feel safe, secure, grounded. That was what you needed to relax. You were so used to being alone before, used to the silence, the empty rooms. But since he decided to kind of move in with you, you couldn’t bear the loneliness. The house was so warm now, so welcoming and comfy.

As you crossed his room after you’ve washed, you noticed that old hoodie you bought him one Christmas when you were in naval school. It’s a silly one, the hood designed to look like a rooster. An amused sigh escaped you and you took it to wear. It was still as soft and comfy as the day you bought it.

“Stealing my clothes I see ?” he chuckled when you joined him in the kitchen.

“Stealing my beers I see ?” you teased him back, pointing at the bottle in his hand, “I thought cranberry beers were for chicks ?”

“Mama Carole didn’t raise me to be picky” He scoffed in défense, with a smirk.

“Oh I know she didn’t. And my mama didn’t raise me to steal, I’m just borrowing that hoodie.” you smiled, putting the hood on. “Look, we’re twins now, Rooster !”

The both of you laughed at that stupid joke. He then smiled at you and put a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Feeling better sweets ?”

“Yeah… sorry about that I… I think these past days were a bit too much for my brain…”

“Don’t be sorry… it’s normal to break sometimes… everyone does.”

You hummed and nodded, but before you could talk, the doorbell rang. “Must be the pizzas ! Get yourself comfortable on the couch and choose a movie Y/N, I’ll be right back !” He kissed your cheek, close to your lips - too close - and ran to the door. You stood there for a moment, cheeks and heart warming up, before doing what he asked you. Once again, you felt like a schoolgirl at her first sleepover with her crush. You couldn’t help but feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach and your face turning a bit red.

You should tell him. But you risked losing that friendship you had. And at the same time, you wanted more than that. You wanted to feel his arms around you, his lips - oh those lips - on you, to wake up next to him each and every morning in your bed… You fantasized about a life with him for a minute, not noticing him getting back with the food. You jumped slightly when he waved his hand in front of your eyes to snap you out of your reverie. Your gaze locked with his as he asked if everything was all right.

"Yes, yes... I was just lost in thought..." you smiled shyly, your cheeks flushed, letting him settle in beside you. He took the plaid to cover both of you, then put his arm around your shoulders.

"And what were you thinking about? Or who?" He teased.

"About us, actually..."

"Us?" He said, a little surprised.

Your cheeks were crimson. You'd said too much already. You couldn't run anymore. You just nodded, not daring to meet his gaze. You felt him come closer and turn a little towards you after a few seconds of silence.

"Me too, I have to admit..."

"Really?" you almost whispered, looking up at him. He smiled and nodded.

"Yeah... to tell you the truth, I like it here, but... I don't want to be just another roommate anymore. We're pretty similar in a lot of things, Phoenix even says we look like an old married couple that's always jammed together." You chuckled a little but couldn't help but agree. Bradley smiled a little before continuing, a little nervously. "And... the crash, almost getting killed... It made me realize a lot of things... like the fact that I didn't want to lose you. And that... maybe... the fact that I felt so comfortable with you meant... meant more than friendship..."

Your heart raced in your chest. Was he going to confess what you were thinking? You bit the inside of your cheek to prove to yourself that you weren't dreaming, and before he could continue, you pulled him by his collar and crushed your lips against his. The kiss was desperate, as if you needed it to keep on living. Bradley didn't waste a second in responding, one of his hands sliding up your cheek and the other down your back to press you against him. You would have liked that moment to last forever, but the lack of air forced you to pull away a little. He pressed his forehead against yours and let out a small laugh. "I guess it's mutual, then?"

"You're a little genius aren’t you ?" You couldn't help but tease him before kissing him again.

You felt so good against him, kiss after kiss. You felt complete, soothed.

And you could easily get used to it .

#top gun maverick #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #dad pete mitchell #reader is pete daughter #jake seresin #bob floyd #penny benjamin #tom iceman kazansky #carole bradshaw #angst with a happy ending #pov second person

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glossglamour · 1 month

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Full Robert Sean Leonard 'House'-a-palooza Interview: "As we know, I’m straight, but yeah, it’s like, homina homina homina."

May 01 2006 | By Maureen Ryan

Do you watch the show much?

"I can't watch it. I mean, Hugh doesn't watch it because he's anal and … eight years old. [laughs] And by the way, I don’t buy it, I think he does watch it.

“I watched in the first year. We live in New York and [my fiancé] was in California] and she likes it because I’m on it. But then she left, she had to come back to New York, and what are you going to do? The idea of me watching myself on TV, alone in Santa Monica, was just about... just short of, like, a bottle of Maker’s Mark and a shotgun away from shooting myself. [much laughter] So I haven’t watched it all season. But when I have watched it, I’ve been mildly confused and Hugh is appropriately grumpy."

I have this theory that a lot of my favorite shows aren’t even about what they’re supposed to be about -- they have to be set in a hospital or police station or outer space or whatever because the network can market that, but they’re secretly not even about that. Like, “House” is really about ethics and morality.

“Yeah, sure, I think that’s true.”

But you can’t pitch that show to the network. “Hey, we have this great show that examines personal morality!"

“‘It’s based on “A View from the Bridge.”’

Right! They’re really going to for that.

“Yeah. [laughs] I think it’s good, and when it’s right, when the show works, the mystery works. It has a Sherlock Holmes-ian feel to it, and you do kind of want to know what’s wrong with [the patients]. And it is interesting, the turns and twists that get you there. And there’s always a little bit of character-driven fun stuff in between, of who these people are and how they affect each other. And that’s it at its best. And I guess that could be true of any show.

“It’s tricky, you’ve got a lead character [who’s different from the TV norm] and you’ve got to be careful because those characters can be one-note. He’s the cranky guy, he’s the Australian guy, I’m the friend in one or two scenes a week. You just have to be careful, and I think we are, we have a really great team of writers. And the numbers are building, people are watching.”

So this two-parter on May 2 and 3, I think the unofficial subtitle is the “Festival of Foreman.” I guess they’re his Emmy episodes, and that’s fine. But you’re hardly in them, what’s up with that?

“Honestly, I’m okay. I don’t want an Emmy. This is what I want -- I know exactly what I want. I did play with a guy named Skip Sudduth, ‘The Iceman Cometh,’ seven years ago. I saw him five years later, and I said, ‘Geez, Skip, where have you been? I don’t see you at readings anymore.’ He said, ‘I’ve been on “Third Watch.”’ It sounded familiar but I’d never seen it. He said, ‘I’ve been doing it for five years.’ I said, ‘Holy crap!’ And he was back doing theater. That’s my dream.

“And it’s happening. I walk down the street and people say, ‘Where are you?’ and I say, ‘I’m on this show called “House.”’ My friend Lewis Black [from 'The Daily Show'] said, ‘What is it called? “Head”?’

“I’m okay. I’ve never been happier than where my career is now. And I don’t want it to change necessarily. Money’s good, and I’m glad I’m getting that, and I’m putting it away for later in life when I do more Tom Stoppard plays at Lincoln Center and make no money. But really, I’m great. I don’t mind working two days a week.

“Because those other guys, the Scooby gang, or the Mod Squad -- they are at that studio for 16 hours a day saying ‘tachycardia, lupus, blablahdeblah.’ Honestly, I’d kill myself if had to do those scenes for that long. I’m very happy with the size of my role, I don’t want it to get any bigger. I’m happy.”

So we won’t see the very special “House” episode where Dr. Wilson almost dies?

“That might be how I get off the show.” [laughs]

Well, you could die and come back as a ghost. Then it would be the “House Whisperer.”

“Yeah [laughs]. The hair makeup people were saying one day, ‘Oh, I love those scenes with you and Hugh, there should be more of that.’ And I’m like, ‘Shhh! Don’t say that!’ I’m the luckiest man in Hollywood. I work only with Hugh, pretty much, who’s great. And I work two days a week.”

Do you fly back and forth to New York then?

"No, not really. They don’t let me because they need me around, the schedule changes so much. I’m going to try to get away with that a little more [in the upcoming season]. Now that [my fiancé] is here, I really will kill myself if I’m out there as much as I was last year, without her.”

So five days a week you’re doing what – Botox injections? Going to the mall? Watching “Maury”?

“Rob Lowe once said the secret to being an actor in L.A. is sleeping as late as you possibly can and going to be as early as possible. I remember him saying, ‘I recommend pajamas by 4:30 p.m.’”

What’s interesting about this show is that they’re taken something that could be a very formulaic procedural and quite often turn it on its head.

“I didn’t know anything about TV, I’d never done [a TV show], but I now know very well that there are procedurals and character-driven shows. ‘Law & Order’ is a procedural and ‘Grey’s Anatomy’ is a character-driven show. The test [as to which category a show is in], someone once said to me, which I thought was hysterical, is this question: Did Sam Waterston sleep with [the assistant DA] on ‘Law & Order’? If the answer is ‘I don’t give a [hoot], I want to know the next element of the case,’ then it’s a procedural.

“Our show is weirdly, and there must be precedent for this, but it’s weirdly equally both. I think it’s very much a procedural, and without that sick patient every week, we wouldn’t work. And without the character stuff it wouldn’t work. And weirdly, people do care if House sleeps with one of our characters, and also care equally what’s wrong with this person and how they’re going to solve the case.”

I guess I like the character stuff better, but you’re right, it probably wouldn’t work without the suspense of the weekly case and somebody being critically ill.

“No, I think you need that. I think the echoes of Sherlock Holmes are too strong. The original idea of the show was House and Wilson, like Holmes and Watson. But it got away from that, and his team is Watson, if you want to be technical about it.

“I’m more like … the only way I’ve found to define it, and it’s so pretentious that it makes me want to jump out a window, is like King Lear’s fool. I’m like the only one who tells him the truth. And [Wilson] has nothing to lose. I don’t work for him and he doesn’t work for me. I’m the only character who chooses to be with him as opposed to being there because of a job. And because of that I have the freedom to tell him what I think. Not that Cuddy holds back much.”

I think her role is to say, "No! Bad House!"

“Have you talked to Lisa Edelstein [who plays Cuddy]? She’s so great. This Japanese woman once said to her, ‘You on “ER”!’ And she said, ‘I have been on “ER,” but now I’m on “House.”’ And [the woman says] ‘Oh yes, “House.” You say, “No, you don’t!”’ Every time we do the table read, I burst into laughter at some point, because there is the voice of that woman in my head, ‘You say “No, you don’t!”’ That’s the entire definition of Lisa’s character. Not completely, but we laugh [about it]. We have the same dilemma. We’re on this show that we’re … kind of on. Crew members say, ‘How long have you been on the show?’ ‘Uh, since the pilot.’ They really don’t know what we’re doing there.”

So in terms of the other stuff going on in your career, that’s going well, all the theater stuff?

“I’ve achieved everything I wanted to do. When I was growing up, I wanted to be Kevin Kline, Sam Waterston. I grew up watching the Public Theater and Shakespeare in the park and Marion Seldes. I mean, I may as well be gay.”

I’m not entirely sure you’re not.

[laughs] “But the thing is, I got it [i.e. his goals]. I’ve done 14 Broadway shows and got a Tony award, and now I’m making money and no one even really knows. I’m getting away with murder. If I come back to New York in two years and nothing’s changed, I’ll be thrilled. All I really want to do is [act in] plays, play with my dog, have kids. My desires are pretty simple. I don’t really want to do movies anymore. I’m pretty tired of camera acting.”

Why are you tired of camera acting? Is it the repetition of it?

“No, no, quite the opposite. We don’t rehearse enough. We do scenes where people barely know their lines, where people just about know their lines. In theater, you do it so many times and you get so familiar that then you can actually start having fun with it. And I really miss that feeling.

“It’s true of films too. I don’t know. I think I’m fine on film, but … I have walked offstage and thought, ‘Wow, no one has done that better. People may have done it as well, but not better.' I’ve actually had that feeling after ‘Long Day’s Journey Into Night,’ or a Shaw play or whatever. I’ve never felt that way with film. I always feel like, ‘Boy, Donald Sutherland would have done that a lot better.’ [laughs] I just don’t think it’s what I do best. I think I’m fine, but there are people who are eerily good at it. In all humility, of which I have none [laughs], that’s how I feel about my work on stage. I really do feel that I’m gifted at it.”

Just to change gears completely, what happens in the finale?

“Well, I think the finale is a bit of a cliffhanger. Something very exciting happens. It’s extremely exciting and freaky and I think it’s great. I can’t say what it is. You end this season very curious about how the next season is going to start. It’s a great final show and a big cliffhanger.”

So it seems like Hugh Laurie is so disparaging of his own talents. But he’s so good as House.

“Some people ask me, ‘Oh, why does Wilson want to hang out with House so much?’ and I’m like, ‘You idiot.’ [laughs] House is designed to be attractive! He’s brilliant, he’s self-deprecating, he has a limp. But yeah, Hugh hates himself and he’s very funny about it. There’s no better combination in my book. Like Lewis Black.”

But as an acting partner, he’s good to work with?

“Oh yeah. The thing is, with this part, Hugh has a huge obstacle he has to deal with, having an American accent. His problem isn’t our problem. We as the audience don’t have that problem, because what he doesn’t know is that he does it perfectly. But of course he doesn’t hear that. That’s why he can’t watch the show.

“When you’re doing an accent, you don’t feel like you’re interesting in the role. Even if everyone around is telling you that you are. And to be in a play is one thing, but to be on TV show that runs for years, I don’t know how he’s going to do it. To be that hard on yourself and be that disappointed in your own work. But as I said, and underline this four times, he’s wrong.”

And then he obviously hates when anyone calls him a sex symbol. You read his quotes when people ask him about that stuff and you can feel the embarrassment rising off the page.

“Yeah, he hates that stuff. And even more than the ‘sexy’ stuff, he hates the ‘you’re brilliant’ stuff. Of course there’s a part of him that likes him, there’s a part of all of us that likes that. [But him being hard on his performance], it’s not false vanity.

“I think Hugh does work he’s proud of and does work he thinks is good, I’m just not sure it’ll ever be this [show]. Having an accent… acting is letting go and forgetting yourself, it’s the opposite of ego. It’s flying away and getting away from yourself and forgetting. And when you’re doing an accent, it’s virtually impossible to do that.

“It’s hard when you're in a play, doing the same lines, the same way for eight months. Hugh learns 72 new lines a day and has to put an American accent on them. It really is an actor’s nightmare. I’ve done [with accents] Brian Friel plays, Martin Sherman plays, Tom Stoppard plays, and maybe five months into it you have a night where you kind of feel OK and kind of forget the accent and let go and let the scene happen. To have a strange accent in your mouth while playing a role, and then be judged for it, that’s hard stuff.

“And can I tell you, when you have dinner with Hugh Laurie [speaking in his real accent]… I miss that voice.”

Yeah. He called me once directly for an interview. I was expecting the publicist to put him through, but it was just that voice on the phone. I was sort of thrown for a minute.

“As we know, I’m straight, but yeah, it’s like, homina homina homina.” [laughs]

---- [source (part 2)] | part 1 | part 3 ---

it took me two hours to track this interview down. it might be the longest one he's ever done. first i tracked it down to tumblr pages posting about it with no source please stop doing that. then i found a short youtube video of laurie saying "homina homina" on an snl skit i think and someone in the comments mentioned the site where the rsl interview was posted. however the site wouldn't let me in, i guess they took it down so i headed to archive dot org. i didn't have a specific link though so that didn't really work out either. then for nearly an hour i tried a wide range of word combinations on google until i stumbled upon a livejournal page of rpf hugh laurie/rsl fanfic. SOMEONE tysm karaokegal posted the exact link i was looking for in the comments. quick trip to the wayback machine and here you go!

i should be on those ethical hacking competition things

#house md #hatecrimes md #gg.txt #robert sean leonard #rsl #interview #source hunting success #hugh laurie #james wilson #gregory house #i nearly went insane #trying to find this thing #part 3 is an interview w katie jacobs #part 1 is general quotes #muted

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y2kazoo · 10 months

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HIIII!!! ive made a MASSIVE update to my fanclone roster since i last posted i have EIGHT of these things now so i refined some refs and updated their designs to make them more distinctive! i have a lot of information about all these up on my toyhouse so feel free to explore around there if you want :D

i wont go over the details w puff and tarrare since ive touched on their lore a bit already but i will indulge in some brief summaries for the rest! info below the readmore come take a look...

first we have louis - a clone of louis wain, a very beloved british illustrator who's well known for his depictions of cats. his clone son follows in his footsteps and is as equally as obsessed with cats as his clone father was - speaking of his clone father, his favorite cat, peter, was cloned along with him and now belongs to the new louis and is always hanging around him! the art club absolutely LOVES him. he's a total sweetheart and he constantly has a line of cats following him wherever he goes. he also runs a cat-sitting service out of his house and prefers to spend down time at school feeding the local stray cats instead of studying

second is charles domery but he prefers to go by his nickname domerz! he's a clone of a polish naval soldier from the 1700's who had absurd eating habits like those of tarrare. he was made infamous for an incident where he tried to eat a crewmate's dismembered leg and only stopped because it was dragged to sea by another crewmate. so it's only natural that his clone son is best friends forever with tarrare, with them having bonded over their afflictions when they were kids. they hang out together all the time - anyways! domerz himself is a bit of a jock but in a punkish bully way, he likes to pick fights with people just for the thrill of it and has a mean streak. he's quelled his weird eating habits by smoking tobacco, and only uses his capability to eat anything as a threat when people provoke him. his favorite threat is, of course, threatening to eat people's legs. he has done this multiple times before to other students if you were curious. also he has a big interest in boats.

bela is, go figure, a clone of bela lugosi, the actor made famous for playing dracula. the thing is, while his clone father was just playing a part, due to his clone father's legacy, his clone son believes HIMSELF to be a REAL, ACTUAL VAMPIRE. of course he is NOT a vampire, he's just some kid, but that doesn't matter too much to him. to him he's a vampire and that's that. he's a very bombastic theater kid AND has a reputation for being a prankster; he particularly loves to scare the other students and hide in their lockers and jump out and scare them. his theater group loves him, but it's easy for the other students to find him kind of grating. he holds a giant party at his parent's house every halloween.

bosch issssss interesting! he's a clone of hieronymous bosch, a painter from the 1500's who's best known works include the garden of earthly delights and his many pieces depicting nightmarish hellscapes. his clone son is a lot more stuck up than he probably was, considering himself to be 'above' the rest of his student body, only ever sticking with the other weird kids of the school. he's fairly pessimistic and edgy and he always has something sarcastic to say. his biggest passion, aside from painting, is the long list of weird, fantastical creatures that he depicts in his works, with each of them having a meaning to him and it's own set lore. he tends not to get along with the other artists due to his standoffish personality but if someone asks him about the significance of a random critter in the corner of one of his paintings, he'll talk to them about it for hours.

mary is a clone of mary shelley, the author of frankenstein! she's a very mopey tradgoth girl if you couldnt tell by all the dramatic makeup. she hates 'the preps' with a passion and would rather be caught dead than be lumped in with them. she's one of the smartest students in her grade and makes a lot of political jokes that fly right over people's heads. her favorite place to hang out is the graveyard, specifically the graveyard at night during a full moon. when she's not there, she's at the morgue contemplating the effects of decay on the human body. she tends to stick mostly to the goth group of kids, but she hangs out with the more ostracized students too, as it's just in her heart to stand up for misunderstood people.

lastly we have db - now i posted db to my main account and a lot of people found him absolutely hilarious SO im reposting him here too! sure why not. db is a clone of db cooper, a mysterious man who vanished after hijacking a plane and obtaining a lot of ransom money. db is a notorious hacker in the school and he's been kicked out of the stem club on several occasions for installing ransomware on all the school computers. his sunglasses are a core staple of his wardrobe as he believes if he always wears them, then no one will know his identity and he'll be this mysterious figure lurking around the school - even though everyone knows his name and he's just a big dork. he tends to pick on people who have a higher standing in the school and then disappearing before they can dish anything out to him. he's also very afraid of heights, ironic because he really likes planes.

#art #oc #clone high #character design #clone high oc #fanclones

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billlydear · 1 year

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LIKE WE'LL NEVER HAVE SEX - BILLY HARGROVE X READER (PART ONE)

word count: 1277 // masterlist | inbox (please request) | WIP list

Summary: Billy's not used to getting less attention than the movie playing on the theater screen.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of sex, mentions of making out, light kissing

A/N: i'm sorry i've been MIA for a bit! school and work are very busy lately </3 but i hope you enjoy this! not me posting another part one with two outgoing series already... but this isn't a chapter of anything, it's a one-shot, and the other parts will be their own completed stories as well. it's a collection of stories, not a series, so you're welcome to read any of them without the others, it won't matter.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

The first time Billy realizes you're not using him for sex is during your first date. Movie theaters are prime date locations, at least on Billy's list, because it gets entertainment and a makeout session knocked out in the same two-hour window. He doesn't have to make small talk before fingering a girl if he's supposed to be silent watching the movie.

It's a pretty well-worn routine by now; the lights dim, and they're done with each other by the time the credits roll. It's efficient, he likes to think, it's easy.

When you'd expressed your enthusiasm about a sci-fi thriller playing in the little theater he frequented, he'd taken his shot. Five minutes later and your address was scrawled on his notebook paper, a smiley face beside it.

He picks you up at eight, and he even pays for popcorn.

You're resting back against the seat behind you, munching on M&Ms. He's neglected to kiss you thus far because the usher is prowling the aisles, on the lookout for anyone behaving... well, how Billy behaves every time.

When the guy stops flashing his torch at suspicious moviegoers and finally leaves the theater, Billy's eager to get on with his routine. He's sure the chocolate on your tongue will taste better than the popcorn dust on his own, but he's curious to see how they mix.

He reaches over to squeeze your hand first, and you tear your eyes away from the screen to shoot him an easy grin. Then you're back to the movie, eyes tracking the characters intently.

He leans over to butt his nose against your jaw, and you startle. You peer over at him with wide doe eyes, shining softly with the light from the screen. He grins and moves into a lazy kiss, one that he feels you sigh softly against his mouth for. It's sweet, but it's short.

"Wait!" You whisper, eyes wide as you tear yourself away from him to glance at the screen, "They're gonna-!"

An explosion rattles the sound system, and one of the characters gets slammed up against a cluster of rocks from the impact. She's dead on impact, and your mouth hang open.

When you settle back into your seat, a fresh candy in your mouth, he decides to steal it off of your tongue. He grips your cheek this time, tugging your face so that you're turned towards him, and pressing his lips to yours a little more firmly this time.

He manages to crack the melted candy on your tongue, spilling gooey chocolate into your spit. There's leftover popcorn butter residue on his lips, grainy and salty, but you don't seem to mind, sliding your hands against his chest.

But then you push against him, the same hands he'd thought were feeling him up nudging him away instead, and you shoot him a bashful smile.

"Sorry," You whisper, warm-cheeked and plump-lipped, "I... really wanna see this movie."

He sits back against his seat, eyes glazed over at the screen for five minutes. You're choosing to watch this shit movie instead of pay him attention? Shit, he could have rented a flick for you for seventy-five cents. Why did he pay for a ticket?

But then a new character steps on screen, and the theater goes up in cheers. He looks bewilderedly around, peering concernedly at you where you're clapping excitedly. You catch his confused stare, and lean in with chocolate-stained lips to whisper-shout, "He's from the original series! He was captain, and everyone was kind of speculating that they'd bring him back for the movie, but no one was really sure, and-!"

He watches your eyes sparkle with excitement as you fill him in on the series' lore, while also trying to keep up with the dialogue the characters have going. He realizes now that you're interested in the movie, you're not disinterested in him. He even laughs at a particularly clever quip, not that he'll ever admit it. The movie is clearly something more to you than it is to him, and he takes solace in the fact that he's not losing his game, you're just not playing it at the moment.

He fully intends to tongue you in the backseat of his camaro before driving you home, though. A man has needs, after all.

Instead, he nods along to the plot of the third episode of the sixth season of the show that the movie was based on, boots crunching against the gravel of the parking lot as he listens to you ramble. Apparently, that episode set up a villain for the movie, but he can't say he was paying attention enough to even remember what they'd looked like.

"-so they find out these guys are just taking it, but obviously they know they're not gonna stop until someone stops them. So they gear up and prepare for battle, but then they realize that there's a colony not too far from the planet they're trying to target, and they don't want them to think they're being hostile to them, so they have to run a team down to the colony to let them know they mean no harm. But it gives their enemies time to escape, and that's why it was such a big deal in the movie, because they were so close and never got to finish the job. But-"

Billy drives you home in silence, adding a few hums of acknowledgement here and there. He can't say he's interested in what you're talking about, but he likes the way you're saying it. Gushy, like the words have to get out now or you'll explode.

He lets you yammer his ear off all the way to your house, and there's lights on inside, which means he won't get away with a makeout session idling in the driveway. Parents don't like that, he knows.

There's disappointment lingering in the pit of his stomach at the prospect of going home without a proper kiss. One with wandering hands, muffled whimpers, maybe a quickie in the backseat. But when you realize he's not going to walk you to the front door, you rush around to the driver's side, ducking down to pop your face in his window.

He stares amusedly at you, surprised when you lean in to push your lips softly against his.

"Thank you," You hum, cheeks heated, "I had a good time tonight.I'm sorry I kind of talked a lot."

"It's fine," He chuckles, leaning in again to milk another kiss out of your waning time together, "You know a lot about that show."

"I do," Your laugh is bashful, and your hands fiddle with the hem of your shirt as you take a deep breath before speaking again, "I was wondering if... you'd want to come over sometime and watch a few episodes? The first ones are a bit shaky but they're totally worth it once you get to the good stuff."

'No' Is on the tip of Billy's tongue. He is not the kind of guy that sits in a girl's living room to watch nerd shit with her. But your eyes are shining at him just like they'd been shining at the movie screen earlier, and the word 'Sure' tumbles from his lips before he knows it's even there.

"Awesome," You gush, your laugh bright and bubbly, "Does five o'clock next Friday work? We can order a pizza."

"Friday at five," He repeats, leaning in to steal one last kiss, "See you then, honey."

The smile you give him as he drives off is just as sweet and sticky as the pet name he'd coined you.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove drabble #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove headcanons #billy hargrove hcs #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove blurb

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wolfjackle-creates · 7 months

Text

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 16

Happy WIP Wednesday everyone! Sorry I missed last week, but I think I should be good to get back on track going forward. Finished making most of the baby things I want to make for my soon-to-be nephew, so I'll be able to spend more time writing than crocheting again.

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.4k

-----

An hour later, all eight of them were ensconced in the theater in Sam’s basement with a few pizzas and salads spread around them. Wulf again refused any and the rest dug in.

“All right, Tuck, we need to figure out what Walker’s up to. Can you ask Wulf?”

Tim watched as Tucker asked and Wulf responded. Then Tucker burst out laughing and slapped his knee.

Tim’s eyes narrowed. He wouldn’t.

Sam scoffed. “You have no idea what he said, do you?”

“Not a clue,” Tucker admitted.

Tim groaned.

Bart cocked his head. “Give me five minutes, I’ll be right back!”

Before Danny could even finish asking, “Where are you going?” Bart was gone.

Conner grabbed another slice of pizza and said, “He’s off to learn Esperanto. Hang tight and he’ll be right back.”

“How can he learn a language so fast?” asked Sam.

Tim swallowed. “He’s a speedster. His normal is faster than our brains can comprehend. He slows himself down so he can interact with us mere mortals. He’ll be back.”

Sure enough, in less than ten minutes, Bart was back among them. He repeated Tucker’s question. This time, when Wulf responded, the ghost was understood.

“So, Walker is pissed at Danny,” translated Bart. “And he totally wants to ruin your entire life and drag you back to his prison in the ghost zone. Apparently he and his guards are overshadowing a bunch of the people you’re close to in the town to trap you in their web of lies.”

Danny groaned and buried his face in his hands. “How do I fight against that? I can’t just soup them all! I don’t even know who all is overshadowed!”

Cassie butt in then. “We know some of them. Dash and your classmates are definitely overshadowed.”

“Your reputation improved thanks to the other night,” commented Conner. “That might help mitigate Walker’s plans.”

“Doubt it,” said Danny. “Most people think I’m a menace. One night of good publicity won’t turn them around. Especially not with my parents there to dirty my name.”

“Let’s prepare a press release,” suggested Tim. “I bet the Young Justice team could get themselves on the local news. And if we speak up for you, it might help.”

Danny exchanged looks with his two friends. Tucker shrugged, “Couldn’t hurt, dude.”

“Fine,” bit out Danny. “What else?”

Conner looked at Wulf curiously. “Bart, does Wulf know how we can get his collar off?”

“Oooh, good question.” Bart asked, but Wulf shook his head as he answered.

“Will he let me look at it?” asked Tucker.

“I might be able to help, too,” added Tim as he stepped closer and reached out to touch.

Before he could actually touch the collar, though, Wulf snarled at him and jumped back several feet. Tim held up his hands in apology and took a step back himself. “Sorry!”

Bart grinned at him. “He said don’t touch it.”

Tim grimaced and nodded. “Think I got that.”

Tucker was already typing away on one of his devices. “I’m gonna try something. Might help.”

And that’s when Wulf screamed out in pain and fell to the floor clawing at the collar.

“Shit!” shouted Tucker as he rushed forward. He managed to plug his device into a port on the collar. Electricity arced back along the connection, causing Tucker to yelp in pain and drop his PDA.

But a moment later, there was a beep and the collar fell to pieces.

Wulf looked down in shock, then up at all of them. “Mi libras?”

“You’re free, dude,” said Tucker.

Bart added something in Esperanto.

Wulf grinned at them, sharp teeth shining in the light. “Mi libras!” Then he turned and disappeared as he jumped through the wall.

Conner groaned and collapsed backwards. “Jerk couldn’t even stick around long enough to help us after everything we did for him.”

Tim sighed and sat down as well. “Well, we’ll figure it out ourselves. Just like we always do. So, operation Fix Danny’s Reputation. We’ll start with talking to the press. What else?”

“Can we write up op-eds describing what really happened in some of his ghost fights?” asked Cassie. “Set the record straight?”

“What if we make you easier to reach?” added Tim. “Get a number the police or the mayor can reach you at so you can show them you’re willing to work with them instead of just on your own?”

“Do you think that’ll work?” asked Danny.

Tim shrugged. “Worked for Batman. Don’t see why it wouldn’t help you.”

Danny sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

“Great,” said Tim. “I’ll send out some emails asking for interviews. And then we can start working on the op-eds. How about we split into three groups, Danny and me in one, the rest of you can split up how we like. Then we can go over the major ghost fights that have happened and write tell-all articles that don’t run the risk of spoiling Danny’s identity.”

Conner shrugged. “Sam, wanna work with me?”

Sam grinned. “You betcha.”

Bart disappeared and reappeared next to Tucker. “Tucker and I will work together, too!”

Cassie moved until she was next to Conner. “I call working with Sam and Kon.”

“Great. Now, Tuck, do you happen to know the best contact info for local reporters?” Tim pulled out his laptop and powered it on as he spoke.

“Give me five minutes and I’ll get it for you.”

Fifteen minutes later, Tim had sent out a dozen emails asking for interviews. As he and Tucker were working, Danny and Sam had gone through which ghost fights would be the best to write about and divided up the attacks between the three groups.

Once he was ready to start on the articles, Tim sat down next to Danny. “So, what are we starting with?”

Danny grinned. “We’re going to go over my first fight. The one with Lunch Lady. She wasn’t bad, but caused a lot of clean up for the school and wasted a lot of resources. Most people still don’t even know that was a ghost attack.”

“Great, let’s get started.”

Tim had heard about most of Danny’s fights before, but being next to him in person definitely made a difference. They were sitting with their arms pressed against each other so they could both see the computer screen and add or delete bits as they went. It was nice.

They’d been working for a few hours when Sam’s parents came down.

“Children!” called her mom.

Tim wasn’t the only one to hide a grimace at the term.

Jeremy Manson continued, “The mayor has instituted a curfew for the city due to all the ghosts. No one is allowed out on the streets after nine PM.”

Pamela Manson giggled. “And it’s nine PM now! So looks like you’ll all be staying here. Tim, dear, be sure to tell your father how seriously we took your safety. I don’t want any of you leaving the house until morning.”

Tim turned on his gala smile. “My dad is in a coma, I’m afraid. But I’ll be sure to tell Bruce just how considerate all the people of Amity have been.”

Jeremy let out a forced laugh. “Of course, our mistake. We wish our best to your father, as well. I hope his prognosis is good?”

Tim blinked at him. “He’s been in a coma for months.”

Pamela giggled again. “Of course, we knew that. Right, dear?” She smacked her husband lightly on the arm.

“Sure did!” he agreed. “Well, I hope to hear news of his miraculous recovery. I’m sure he is getting the best of care.”

“Of course he is,” agreed Tim. “I wouldn’t put up with anything less.”

A few more giggles and well wishes, then Pamela and Jeremy made a hasty retreat.

Once they were alone, Conner looked at him with concern. “Tim—”

“I’m fine, Conner.”

Before anyone else could try and say anything, his email beeped. Tim took the excuse and read it over. The most popular morning radio talk show wanted to have the Young Justice on. Tim grinned.

“We’re getting up early, guys. Radio interview at six AM.”

Cassie laughed. “I can do that, can you?”

Tim shrugged. “I just won’t go to sleep. Easier to stay up that late than drag myself out of bed that early.”

Conner shook his head. “You and your family are insane, Rob.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get back to work.”

-----

This is where I definitely go off the rails of what happened in the show. But that's half the fun of an AU! Hope you like it.

I no longer tag for this fic, but if you want to be notified of updates, please check out the Subscription Post.

Scroll down to the next post on my blog to see the really cool birthday comic @stealingyourbones made for me!

#dpxdc #tim drake #danny fenton #will they be able to repair danny's rep before walker enacts his plan?#wait and find out!#there absolutely wont be any long term consequences to whats about to happen #nope #none at all #*evil laugh*

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sycamorelibrary754 · 7 months

Text

When You Wish Upon a Star

Summary: You and Bucky Barnes have grown close, bonding over sarcasm and shared trauma. You make it your mission to help Bucky experience all the joys of life that Hydra took from him. A little Disney magic is the perfect place to start.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader (platonic)

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: A few curse words and references to past trauma.

A/N: Who wouldn’t want to go to Disneyland with Bucky?

It was always the same. Your eyes shot open as the sensation of falling washed over you. Slowly, you rolled over and lifted your head to check the clock. 3:12 am. Fucking perfect. After a couple of deep breaths, you lifted your tired body off your bed. You throw on your favorite sweatshirt before opening your door and shuffling down the hall.

It was dark, but you knew the way by heart. A frequent late-night visitor to the compound halls thanks to your PTSD. Your nightmares came in bunches, and when they did you needed a distraction when you woke up to keep yourself from spiraling down completely. You reach the kitchen and are just about to open the fridge when you see the outline of James Buchanan Barnes sitting on the sofa in the dark.

“Bucky? What are you doing out here?”

“Moonlighting as a vampire”, he grumbled.

“You know, I usually just take your hundred-and-eight-year-old sarcasm at face value, but it’s late and I’m genuinely curious”, you said, as you sit across from him on the sofa. One leg tucked up under your body and your arms crossed over your chest to keep yourself warm.

Bucky looks over at you stone-faced, but you can tell he’s trying to read you, searching for an ulterior motive. The gears are turning endlessly inside his head. After about five seconds of silence, you decide to return the favor. There are dark circles under his eyes and his disheveled hair is standing on end. You can tell has been up much longer than you.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, sorry. I thought we were having a staring contest”, you said lightheartedly to cover up your attempt at reading him. You can’t help but notice the small smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth, disappearing as quickly as it came.

“Do you ever feel like you don’t matter? Like, despite it all, you’ll never be free of the pain?”

“All the time”, you stated without hesitation.

He turns to you with a furrowed brow and a look of surprise.

“What?”

“Nothing, sorry. It’s just, in the past when I’ve said that to people they usually give me a bunch of hollow platitudes,” Bucky said.

“Well, that’s not me.”

“Me either.”

That was the first time you and Bucky had a bonding moment. Moving forward there were many more late-night talks and quietly waiting up for each other. A movie always queued up to help pull each other back into the present moment after a mission. You could be alone together in a way that you couldn’t be with anyone else. It stumped the rest of the team, to say the least. Two people who would rather silently take in the world around them than be forced to speak had become best friends.

*^_^*

You wiped the perspiration off your forehead, sitting against the wall in the gym after a joint training session. Bucky insisted on helping you improve your hand-to-hand combat skills. He noticed you had gotten a bit complacent in relying solely on your powers. After you arrived home from your last mission with a black eye, Bucky was adamant about training you himself.

Taking a sip of water, you turn to Bucky, “Have you ever been to Disneyland?”

“You ask the most random questions, and no. I remember some of the original Disney cartoons, though. Steamboat Willie, Oswald the Lucky Rabbit. Before we started moving around to different army bases, my parents would give me a dollar and I would walk to the movie theater in Shelbyville, Indiana. They would joke, “Don’t spend it all in one place, James”, he said with a smile that slowly faded. “After my parents died, I stopped going to the movies. And… the Winter Soldier never had a vacation.”

It was only in the last few months you started to notice Bucky differentiating himself from the Winter Soldier. You assumed it was thanks to Dr. Raynor and his pardon-mandated therapy, but he would never admit it was you who was helping him see that the Winter Soldier and James Bucky Barnes were not one and the same.

“Well, something to add to your list then. Come on, dinner is probably ready,” patting his thigh. You mentally file away what Bucky shared for later. There was a whole new life for him to live now, and you were determined to help him do it.

A couple weeks later you and Bucky are infiltrating an old Hydra base off the grid. A simple in and out to retrieve a backlog of digital files, and you were back on the Quinjet within a couple of hours. You offered to pilot the jet home while Bucky took a nap. He awoke a few hours later to you poking him repeatedly on the shoulder with a dorky grin on your face.

“What?” Bucky groaned, wiping his hands over his face. “Are we home?”

“No, we’re making an unscheduled stop,” you said, as the super soldier sits up.

“Where the hell are we?” Bucky walked to the window surprised to find no landing pad, no buildings, no New York.

“Surprise, Buck! We’re going to Disneyland,” you declared. “I cleared it with Fury. We have tomorrow off, and I already sent the files we retrieved to Maria with a written debrief. We’re officially off the clock for the next 36 hours.”

“No, Y/N. I’m too old for this. What if someone recognizes us?”

“First of all, you’re too old for everything, but that doesn’t matter in the Happiest Place on Earth. Second of all, I’ve got that covered,” pulling a change of clothes for him out of your bag.

You both change and are about to depart the jet when you remember one more preventative measure. You grab both your suits and fiddle with them for a second before removing two of Tony’s trackers.

“This trip will be our little secret”, you wink.

You departed the jet and activated stealth mode at the top end of the Mickey and Friends parking structure, away from prying eyes. After a short ride on the tram and walk through security you’re standing at the top of Main Street USA. You look down at Cinderella’s castle as the sights, sounds, and smells of Disneyland envelop your senses.

“Okay, so I thought we could hit Adventureland first. Jungle Cruise, Indiana Jones, just to get your feet wet. Then we’ll do Frontierland and New Orleans Square. Wait until you see Pirates of the Caribbean! Oh, and Fantasyland has the Matterhorn, I have a feeling you’ll love that ride. Then maybe we could grab dinner at the Jolly Holiday cafe and watch the fireworks. That will leave us with Tomorrowland tomorrow, no pun intended. Finally, I thought for shits and giggles we could check out the Avengers campus in California Adventure Land before we leave.” you rambled happily. You finally look up from your park map to see Bucky eyeing you like you are speaking another language.

“Sounds great, but how are we paying for this? I doubt it’s on Shield’s payroll.”

“Ask and you shall receive”, you said with a devilish smirk, as you pulled Tony’s Black Master Card from your pocket.

“Where the hell did you get that?”

“Tony’s wallet. You’re not the only superhero here remember? Plus, Nat has taught me a thing or two about pickpocketing over the years,” you grinned. “Come on James, we’re going to spend it all in one place this time,” linking arms with the super soldier who simply rolled his eyes.

The next day and a half was a whirlwind of Disney magic. You went on every ride you possibly could. (You may or may not have hacked into the fast pass system to make your wait times in line as short as possible). Bucky made you go on Big Thunder Mountain Railroad twice and didn’t judge you for screaming in a way that would be considered very un-heroic by your teammates. You bought him personalized Mickey ears with his name embroidered on the back, and it only took ten minutes of arguing to convince him to wear them in a picture with Mickey. Meanwhile, Bucky took every opportunity he could to capture your Disneyland experience. Discreetly snapping a candid photo or filming as you happily sang along to the music on every ride.

After a good night’s sleep in the jet, the two of you made your way over to the Avengers campus in California Adventure Land. “Well, they got the aesthetics right,” you remarked. Taking in the scenery and park guests clad in Avengers merchandise.

You took a selfie in front of the Avengers campus sign that you immediately made your new lockscreen. It took a couple minutes, but Bucky found a spot for both of you in front of the compound to watch The Amazing Spider-Man! Peter welcomed the guests and conducted various flight tests in his new suit. There were flips, jumps, and web slingers galore. Each move executed smoothly, until he tripped over a few boxes and landed flat on his face.

“Yeah, that’s about right”, Bucky joked as you nod in agreement.

The campus is full of cast members dressed as all of your teammates interacting with park guests, Dr. Strange illustrating the mysteries of the Mystic Arts, and the Warriors of Wakanda demonstrating disciplines of the Dora Milaje. After exploring a bit, you decided to take a seat outside of Shawarma Palace to rest your feet. You both removed your hats and are scrolling through your phones when a curly-haired little boy wearing glasses and an Iron Man t-shirt quietly approached your table.

“Hi”, he whispered shyly.

“Hi, what’s your name?” you smiled. You put your phone down and place your hand on top of Bucky’s hand. The gears turning in his head like the night you found him on the sofa in the dark.

“James”, he answered, swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet. You looked over at Bucky as he visibly relaxed and smiled.

“Are you Bucky Barnes and Y/F/N Y/L/N?” he asked. Pushing his little glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“Why do you think that?” trying to hide your grin.

“I have a poster of the Avengers in my bedroom! You look just like them, and umm, we learned about you at school. Oh, and I had an Iron Man cake for my last birthday. I got a helmet and everything!”

“That’s amazing, James! Iron Man is my favorite Avenger too.”

“Hey?!” Bucky said.

“Okay, original Avenger.”

You look over at Bucky eagerly. He seems to read your mind and nodded in agreement.

“We’ll let you in on a little secret, but you have to promise not to tell anyone,” you whispered as you motion for James to come closer. You hold out your hand and focus as small blue sparks dance around your palm.

“Woah!!” James yelled.

“Shhhh,” you giggled.

Bucky looks around carefully before taking off his glove and rolling up his sleeve to reveal his Vibranium arm.

“That’s so cool,” James said mesmerized.

“We’re here on confidential Avenger business and we must keep our cover. Can you help us keep our identities secret?” Bucky asked as he rolls his sleeve back down and put back on his glove.

“Yeah!” your new friend exclaimed proudly.

“Thank you, James. You will make a great Avenger someday,” Bucky said.

He gave the small boy a fist bump, and you do the same. James walked away proudly, and you can’t help but look over at Bucky. Your eyes shining with unshed tears.

“That’s why you matter.”

For the first time in your friendship, you think he believes it.

The sun begins to set as you both stroll out of California Adventure Land. Bucky is about to suggest walking across the street to wait for the tram when he sees you running back toward the Disneyland entrance.

“What are you doing? We need to get going. I’m sure everyone is already freaking out that our trackers are offline” Bucky shouted.

“There’s one more thing we have to do. Come on!” you yelled, motioning for him to follow you. You lead your best friend back down Main Street USA before stopping in front of the cinema. You waited for him to catch up to you and pointed up at the marquee.

Main Street Cinema Presents:

Steamboat Willie

Plus six great original Disney cartoons.

I thought you might like a little walk down memory lane before the clock strikes midnight and we turn back into pumpkins.”

Bucky stared at the marquee for a few seconds before looking back at you. Before you can ask him what he thinks, he embraced you in a hug. You walked inside and strolled from screen to screen. Taking in the nostalgia of the classic black-and-white Disney cartoons. You reached the last screen just as Mickey began to whistle the theme to Steam Boat Willie. You glanced over at Bucky and noticed his eyes shining with unshed tears this time. You rub gentle circles on his back until the credits roll.

“Thank you, Y/N”, he sighed, wiping his eyes. That meant a lot to me. This trip meant a lot to me. I never thought I’d say this, but I loved it.”

“You’re my best friend, Buck. You deserve to experience all of the beautiful moments in life. It’s never too late. Hell, everyone should have a first trip to Disneyland. I’m just glad I got to do it with you”, putting your arms around him. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Back on the jet, Bucky offered to pilot so you can get some sleep. Fortunately, the night air is calm and clear, so after about an hour he put the jet on autopilot and sat down next to you. The super soldier gently covered you with a blanket before pulling out his phone. He can’t help but laugh at the sight of the two of you sharing a giant Dole Whip or screaming as the train dipped and dove on Thunder Mountain. For the first time in forever, Bucky sees himself smiling and almost doesn’t recognize himself.

You finally stirred when the wheels touched down on the compound landing pad. Bucky had yet to notice you’re awake. Preoccupied with shutting down the jet and grabbing both your bags. You lay there silently as your eyes followed him. You smiled to yourself as you heard him softly whistling “When You Wish Upon a Star”.

Mission accomplished.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #mcu #the avengers #fluff #disneyland #super soldier #super powers #vibranium #white wolf #james buchanan barnes

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uselessmicrowave · 7 months

Text

kinktober day eight

breakdown x reader

tws/content- alt mode sex, casual, public (forest), praise, playful banter, masc reader, afab reader, mentions of kobd x reader, object insertion, sticky ibterfacing

“Breakdown, I’ll get your interior all messy.”

“C’mon, you know I like a little mess.” you can hear the smirk in his tone. “I’m not K.O., and we’ll clean up after.”

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.” you tease, kissing the top of his steering wheel. You instruct him, fiddling with the zipper on your pants. “Need to drive into the forest though, so people don’t see.”

You nearly get thrown into the dashboard because of how quickly he’d reversed. You yelp as Breakdown quickly apologizes. “Sorry!”

“It’s fine, I know how impatient you get-”

“Oh hush, you.” he teases back, stopping and parking when he could no longer see the lights from the drive-in movie theater screen. There’s only the light from his bio lights, faint blue and orange beams illuminate your body. “Never mind, be as loud as you want to.”

You giggle, slipping your pants and boxers off, swinging a leg over to the passenger’s seat. You’re sat on his middle console, now tugging at your shirt. You don’t really care about your fluids getting on the leathery material.

“Primus, you’re so hot…” Breakdown murmurs, the bio lights glowing brighter. Arousal starts to throb and gather between your legs. “Wish you could fit on my spike.”

“I know big boy, I wish I could too.” you swipe two fingers over your tongue, gathering spit and slathering the lubricant onto his gear shift.

“Think you’ll even fit on that? Looks kind of big for you, baby.”

“I can take it.” you take more spit from your tongue, gently rubbing in between your thighs. “I think.”

“Just be gentle with yourself.” you move forward a bit, Breakdown adjusts the seats so that you’ll still be on your knees. His yellow bio lighting illuminates your soft body as you position yourself over the gear shift. It’s cold against your entrance, rubbing the blunt object against yourself makes you gasp. As you lower your hips, you place your hands on his dash board. “Just like that, hm handsome?”

“Hnn… Oh!” you whine, dropping down onto the object. The stretch stings, but the thickness of it presses against a sensitive place inside you.

“Careful, baby.” his voice sends vibrations through his interior, making you see stars and grind down. You moan, sliding all the way down onto the gear shift, your ass against the center console.

You give a careful bounce, whining when the object nudges a sensitive bundle of nerves. Breakdown makes a small, sweet sound when you squeeze and squirm on the object.

“Breakdown…?” you quietly prompt, almost not heard over the blasting air of his cooling system.

“Huh?” he seems flustered.

“You okay, big guy?” you ask with a smirk.

“Mmhm.” he responds shakily, voice tinted by crackling static. His bio lights flicker as he speaks.

“You seem really quiet now, what happened, Breaky?” you rub at his dash, smiling wider and giving him another experimental bounce.

“Nothing… It’s all good, keep going. Please.” he mumbles out quickly, engine rumbling with excitement.

“If you say so…” you give him another slow, gentle bounce, biting your lip to stay silent. Instead of you moaning, it’s him letting out a breathy whine. You smile, about to tease him again when he revs his engine again, the vibrations rattle through your core, making you moan and jump on the object.

“Hn!” Breakdown gasps, revving again. You give him a toothy grin, squeezing and bouncing to make him moan. “Y/n!”

You chuckle, rocking back and forth on his gear shift, his bio lights on his dash flash erratically, he makes the cutest most desperate and adorable noises…

“Ohh…” he gasps, sending more vibrations straight into your body, massaging all of the delicate nerves inside you.

“I didn’t know you could feel that, big boy…” you strain, bouncing again. Breakdown hums, making you squeeze on him. He doesn’t seem to notice your words, only focused on how you look and the sounds you make when you’re on him.

The hotness in the bottom of your stomach becomes more and more noticeable, more easily stirred when Breakdown groans and sends the shaky feelings right into you.

“Primus, that’s… so good…” he whines, stirring up the warmth as you get closer and closer to your edge. Your fluids have dripped down into his cup holders, smearing on your thighs to the leathery seating. “Mmn!”

His increase in noises and responses to your movements skyrockets, he whimpers at every thrust, and he, you think, overloads before you. You can hear his internal systems working overtime, Breakdown becoming more and more vocal before he groans loud and long, quieting to little whimpers as you’re finishing too.

You catch your breath before even thinking of saying anything. “Do you have anything to clean up…?”

“Scrap…”

#tfp x reader #tfp #valveplug #transformers prime #breakdown #tfp breakdown #breakdown x reader #tfp breakdown x reader #breakdown x male reader

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shawtuzi · 1 year

Note

eren being a guest at the playboy mansion, and spending an *eventful* night with a particular chubby bunny.

idk i think its a cool idea :)

OUUUU UR MIND!!!! this just made me so excited omg (i listened to cozy and summer renaissance while writing this heh AND this is set in the early 2000’s!!!!)

this is 18+ mdni obvi///cw include: chubby black fem!reader, little mention of drug use, oral f receiving, mating press, choking, spitting, a little titty sucking, kinda rushed :((

i did a little research and it seems like a lot of actors were guests at the playboy mansion so let’s say eren is a new upcoming actor. he was the main star in a new film that had been doing numbers!!! with the way he can effortlessly display emotions and act his ass off—plus the fact that he has a face that looked like it was carved from the gods it wasn’t hard for him to book jobs.

it didn’t take long for him to get an invite to a party at the infamous playboy mansion and lucky for him he had the privilege to be in the presence of playboys most famous playboy bunny—you ofc!!!

you were playboys first and only plus sized bunny and boy did the public love you. the way you confidently flaunted your curves and gorgeous assets had men wanting you and with your entire career surrounding around body positivity and the way you strived to get plus sized women more involved in the fashion world women absolutely adored you!!!

now these typically weren’t black tie events ppl usually dressed casual so eren decided to pop out in just a plain oversized white t-shirt, jeans that were a little too baggy on him, and a pair of fila high tops. his hair that went just a little past his shoulders was tied half up half down and he made sure to wear his most expensive diamond stud earrings.

upon arriving people were already chatting him up, the most asked question being if he had a lil boo thing to which he replied no. and it was true! sure he’d had a few hookups with people in the business but he wasn’t quite sure he was ready for someone to hold him down. well yk he thought that until he laid eyes on the drop dead gorgeous woman sitting in a gigantic champagne filled glass. you and two other women were the centerpieces of the whole event as you all sat oh so prettily in the glasses—yours being the tallest. after taking a closer look he recognized your face immediately and suddenly lost all interest in the conversation he was having.

eren slowly trailed over to you, his eyes wide with wonder. your legs slowly swung back and forth over the glass as you scoped out the scene when suddenly your eyes landed on the man that looked as if he was in a trance. a smile made it way onto your lips as you beckoned him close with your fingers. you pulled your legs in the glass and slowly moved to sit on your knees and leant ever so gently on the rim of the glass. the faux champagne had your brown skin glistening in the blue hues that shone from the lights above you.

eren was about two feet shorter than the eight foot champagne glass and if he was any closer he might’ve asked you if he could taste the gloss on your plump lips. “you look awfully familiar have i seen you on tv before?” you giggled tilting your head to the side. it took eren a minute to regain his composure before he nodded, “uh yeah i was in this action movie that came out a couple months ago.” you gasped bringing a hand to your mouth, the slightest bit of champagne splashing out of the glass. “that’s where i know you from! i loved that movie i went to see it like three times in theaters! i’m a total sucker for spy movies,” you ran your pierced tongue over your bottom lip before nibbling on it.

“it’s your first time here correct? i’d remember a pretty face like yours,” you sat up straighter and brought your hands to your breasts, squeezing them together, letting the champagne wet them and make them glisten even more. even though you were in a semi engaging conversation with eren you were still on the clock and had to entertain the guests by showing off your goods which eren didn’t mind at all except it did get him a little distracted. “yeah…it’s my first time,” he mumbled bringing his eyes to your breasts before snapping them back to your eyes.

you could see it in eren’s eyes how enamored he was with you and you loooved it. the way he couldn’t keep his pretty jade eyes off you made you wanna jump his bones and that’s exactly what you set out to do. “how about i get down from here and we talk some more hm?” eren didn’t say a word instead he just nodded dumbly.

once you had gotten down from the champagne glass one of your many assistants brought you a pair of heels and a robe, you put the robe on but didn’t tie it up, leaving your body on display. although the heels were a nightmare to walk in bc your feet were wet with faux champagne you still walked like you owned the room, eren trailing behind you like a lost puppy. you abruptly turned around, eren’s chest bumping into your naked one, “let’s talk somewhere quiet this music is a bother.” your smaller hand grabbed onto his larger one and led him through the crowd until you were at the part of the mansion where your room and the other girls’ rooms were.

“holy shit…” eren mumbled as he stepped into your very large room. it was almost as big as the room the two of you were previously partying in and it was very very pink! you kicked off your heels and walked over to eren, you pulled him close by the belt loops in his pants and gave him a sweet smile. your eyes were low and red due to the two blunts you had smoked before the party started. “you know i didn’t invite you in here to actually ‘talk’ right?” as you said those words eren mumbled out a thank god before smashing his lips into yours. ‘strawberry lipgloss’ he thought to himself as he ran his tongue over your glossed up bottom lip.

eren has slipped your robe off your shoulders leaving you in only a pastel pink thong that was practically getting swallowed by your pussy. eren leant down and wrapped his lips around your pierced nipple, moaning around the bud. you were so wrapped in the pleasure you hadn’t even noticed eren had carried you to your california king bed, setting you down ever so gently. in a flash he had yanked your thong off and attached his lips to your soaked pussy.

eren had made you cum two times on his skillful tongue before you were yanking him up by his hair much to his dismay. “we can eat my pussy another time, i need your dick now,” you brought your pedicured foot to the bulge in his jeans and pressed down on it making him groan. “fuck okay you got a condom?” he asked undoing the button and zipper on his pants. you reached under your pillow and pulled a condom, a sly smile on your face.

eren plucked the condom from your hand letting out a tiny chuckle, “oh so you knew you were getting laid tonight?” you giggled giving him a quick nod. “i just didn’t know it was gonna be by my new favorite actor!” you giggled which turned into a squeak when you felt eren’s fat tip tap against your puffy clit. eren ran his dick between your folds before slowly sliding in, “fuuuck,” he groaned, his hand finding purchase on your pretty neck that was decorated w diamond necklaces. after adjusting to his size eren began to move, “m’your new favorite actor huh?” he chuckled throwing your thighs over his shoulders.

you let out a tiny ‘mhm!’ as you grasped onto his shoulders for dear life. eren captured your lips in a nasty kiss, moaning at the way your pretty little pussy gripped him like a vice. “hmm maybe i’ll bring you to my next movie premiere yeah? you can be my cute lil date?” eren pulled out until only the tip was in before slamming his hips back down nearly knocking the breath out of you. “yesss please w-wanna be your date so—ah! bad,” tears were now brimming your pretty brown eyes and it only encouraged eren to pick up the pace of his thrusts.

“s-shit open your mouth,” before you could even comprehend what he said eren brought his thumb to your lips and forced them apart before spitting in your mouth. you swallowed it happily and even stuck your tongue out to show eren—now that had his hips stuttering and his arms feeling wobbly. “m’gonna cum you close bunny?” you nodded your head feverishly your back arching up.

you and eren came together in a fit of groans from him and high pitched moans from yourself. while you were still trying to recover from you earth shattering orgasm eren was eyeing the pretty pink bunny ears that were on your bed side dresser. he reached over to grab them and unintentionally pushed his dick further into your weeping pussy causing you to let out a tiny whimper. “why didn’t you wear these bunny?” he asked holding the bunny ears in front of your fucked out face.

“i didn’t want them to get wet while i was in the champagne glass,” you laughed plucking them from his fingers, “but….i can wear them for you.” you both felt eren’s dick twitch at your words and that’s when you knew you had your answer. “you got anymore condoms?” he asked pulling out to remove the one he was wearing. you gave him a devilish grin and reached under your pillow to pull out yet another condom, “i always keep a second one under because no man can ever go just one round with me and there’s even more in my drawer.” fuck you were gonna be the death of him.

to make a long story short you and eren fucked till the sun came up and you had to postpone your photo shoot the next day bc you could barely even stand on your legs. eren made sure to leave you his number when he left and it didn’t take you long to text him and ask when you could see him again <333

#eren smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut #eren yeager #snk eren #snk smut #aot imagine

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