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#Natasha Moustache
atoubaa · 2 months
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Travaye pou Lanmour, Labour of Love, (Seychelles, 2021) - Natasha Moustache
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steveandnatlover76 · 17 hours
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Natasha: Steve!!! What is that?!!!
Steve: What?!!! What???!
Natasha: There is a giant caterpillar or moth under your nose!
Steve: That‘s my new moustache!
Natasha: What? Shave this monstrosity off.
Steve: But…but I thought it might tickle in all the right places.
Natasha: Oh, but, Steve,… Really? Alright follow me to our bedroom, Mr. Tickle. You can shave it off afterwards.
Steve: Yes, ma‘am.
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With thlovk around the corner, how are we feeling about this tweet everyone??? (For reference, this was posted either just before or just after tlfop came out)
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mynameisemma · 2 years
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The Rostovs family via artbreeder
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bruisedboys · 5 months
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bradley bradshaw x fem!reader — you’re worried about what bradley will think of your new haircut.
mutual pining, pre-relationship, fluff (very self indulgent since I got my hair cut this week xoxo)
You were feeling good about your new haircut yesterday, when it was freshly cut and styled and so super soft. Today is different. You know you look different and you can help but think different is bad.
You rake a hand through your short hair. “Does my hair look bad?”
Natasha and Bob both give you twin looks of incredulity. It’s not the first time you’ve asked it tonight. They’ve brought you along to the Hard Deck for a night of drinks with their friends and you can’t stop fussing over your hair. You won’t admit to them it’s because you’re harbouring a massive crush on one of their squad members and you’re worried he’ll think you look awful.
“It looks fine,” Natasha tells you, again, not for the first time. “You look pretty. Right, Bob?”
Bob hums, tapping his fingers on the wooden tabletop. “You look great, Y/N.” He gives you a look from behind his glasses. Confusion, a bit of suspicion. “Why are you worrying so much, anyway?”
Your heart stutters. “I’m not—“
“Phoenix, Bob!” Jake Seresin appears seemingly out of nowhere, sidling up to your table with all the charm of a prince. His eyes land on you and your new hair and he grins. “And Y/N. Looking good, sugar.”
He winks at you. He’s a huge flirt and you’d definitely be into him if it weren’t for another certain aviator.
You smile at him. “Thanks, Jake.”
The others, Payback and Fanboy, file in behind him. They both notice and compliment your hair, which is a good sign. Still, you know who’s coming next and you can’t help but curl in on yourself, taking a sip of your drink so you don’t have to see him as he approaches.
“Hey, guys!” Bradley Bradshaw appears, stupid Hawaiian shirt, sunglasses, moustache, golden skin and all. He’s tucking his glasses into his shirt so he doesn’t see you at first. “Hey— woah, Y/N.”
He stops short when he sees you. You lower your drink slowly, heart in your throat. Your knee bounces underneath the table.
“Hi, Bradley,” you say.
Bradley blinks. Blinks again. “Hi. Hey. I— you cut your hair.”
He says it like he’s never heard of a haircut before. You smile unsurely.
“I did,” you say, pushing a lock behind your ear as if that will help your case. “Is it bad?”
“Bad? No, it’s— it really suits you,” he says. If you’re not mistaken, he’s stuttering. Not only that, but unless you’re imagining it, he’s blushing. He stares at you, completely unaware of anything or anyone else, golden cheeks tinged pink. “You look really pretty.”
Your turn to blush. Heat flares behind your cheeks, burning into your smile. Pretty, he called you. “Thanks, Brad.”
Bradley seems to come back into himself, a lopsided grin creeping onto his face. He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets and smiles at you. “Hey, you’re welcome. Just tell me next time so I don’t have a heart attack, okay?”
What’s that supposed to mean? You open your mouth to say something, you don’t know what, but Jake’s southern drawl interrupts you.
“Bradshaw!” Both you and Bradley turn to see Jake at the pool table with the rest of the boys. “Stop flirting with Y/N and get over here so I can beat you. Again.”
Bradley rolls his eyes. “He’s lying, I won last week. I’ll be back, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”
You weren’t planning to. He flashes you a dazzling smile and then you watch him go, your heart thrumming with the sort of electricity you can’t ignore. You think you might burst. He’d called you pretty, said you’d given him a heart attack. You feel like your own heart’s about to give out, too.
Across the table, Bradley now well out of earshot, Natasha wiggles her eyebrows at you.
“Oh,” she says slyly. “Now I get why you were so worried about your hair.”
You groan and bury your burning face in your drink again. “Please shut up, Nat.”
You have a feeling she won’t.
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gregorycddie · 2 years
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natasha lyonne in that jumpsuit during the monologue 😩😍🥵 and when she's in drag in those later sketches
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alltheswift · 11 months
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Taylor Swift || The Eras Tour || Chicago Night 1 (June 2, 2023)
Photo by Natasha Moustache/TAS23/Getty Images for TAS Rights Management
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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For multiverse Monday
Doctor bradley Bradshaw dating single mom teacher reader andits being rooster first time meet her daughter being super shy and when she meets him " i wike your moustache " while hiding between readers legs maybe
sorry honey i couldn't really think of a good scenario where he would be a doctor and she would be a teacher and they'd connect while also meeting her daughter so i took out the doctor part! this isn't an au anymore, it's reader being an instructor at top gun and having a young daughter. i hope you're not too disappointed! also i know rooster would not have been in a class with the dagger squad during his time at top gun and that most of them only met for the uranium mission but fuck canon actually they're all school friends in a little group <3
--
"For the most part, I thought your simulations were done well. Many of you made rational decisions while considering both your safety and your plane's, and it showed. Some of you-" You try not to look at Hangman even though everyone else already is, "Were more... daring in your hypothetical plans. But that's something we'll discuss privately, when I come around to work through them with you."
Jake's smirk doesn't fall despite the relentless jabs he gets from everyone sitting within his range. You avoid speaking to him first, choosing to target Fanboy instead, who performed fantastically in his work.
There isn't much to go over with him, a play-by-play of his simulation that you agree with wholeheartedly. You only give him one pointer, and it's that he could be a little less cautious if he wanted to be. But you're moving onto his seatmate next, your back turned towards Rooster as you crouch over Payback's desk.
There's similarly minimal work to be done on Payback's simulation. He'd clearly done the assignment thoughtfully, and you're sure to give him a glowing review. When you step up to the side of Rooster's desk there's a lingering smile on your face, that he glances up at and returns with one of his own.
"Lieutenant Bradshaw," You nod, your voice kind, "Your work was done well. I do have a few pointers, though, if you'd let me nitpick?"
"'Thought you would," He admits, chuckling sheepishly, "It's hard to simulate something so unpredictable."
"I know what you mean," You nod vigorously, missing the sound of the door creaking open, as well as the silence that falls around the classroom from your other students, "There weren't any major problems, I just wanted to offer you some advice. I think you could change the way that you operate here," You tap your pen against the printed frame of his simulation, showcasing a maneuver he could have taken, but didn't. The second time your pen hits the page you feel something thud against your legs, and your hands brace themselves urgently on Bradley's desk to stop yourself from falling forwards into him.
"Oh!" You crane your neck backwards to see what had rammed into you, seeing the wispy-haired, pigtailed-head of your daughter.
"Oh, Lizzie," You breathe, laughing bashfully as a few coos are heard around the room. You sneak your hands beneath her arms, hauling her up off of the ground and onto your hip, "You are not supposed to be here, you know that. What happened to your group?"
"We walked by your door." Elizabeth mumbles into your neck, her tiny voice muffled nearly silent, "And I heard you talking. And I heard Phoenix, and I wanted to say hi."
Natasha gives her a sneaky wave from her seat beside the door.
"Lizzie, you're supposed to stay with the group," You try not to chide her, keeping your voice sweet as she flops herself lifeless over your shoulder, "They're going to be worried when they can't find you."
"I'll catch 'em and let 'em know," Bob offers, rising from his seat cautiously, "Probably on their way to the rec room?"
You pinch Elizabeth's side to get her to answer; she nods once into your shoulder.
You flash Bob a thankful thumbs-up as he rushes to catch Liz's daycare group, and you make a silent promise to yourself to get her a backpack with a leash on it.
When you turn back to Rooster, he's staring at your little girl. He's got a sweet smile on his face, something that no one seems to be able to withhold when looking at her tiny face. She's peeking right back at him, and you can feel her smile against your neck when he waves.
"Lizzie," He tests her name on his tongue, then glances at you, "Short for Elizabeth?"
"No," Your little girl pipes up, ready with the joke she's been waiting on (courtesy of her wisecracking grandfather) for two years now, "Lizard."
Bradley blinks.
"Lizard?"
You can't help but laugh, stifling the sound by biting your lip. He looks bewilderedly between the two of you, two giggly girls, wondering if he's crazy for mishearing something, or if you're crazy for naming your daughter after a reptile.
"It's Elizabeth," You confirm, "Her grandpa has a flair for bad jokes."
"Oh," Rooster breathes, face crumpling into half mortification and half relief, "I see."
"She steals all of his favorite ones," You lament, setting her on the floor only for her to smush herself between your legs and keep her face hidden behind your left thigh, "I think one day she's going to tell me she's 'trying to quit' when I offer her a juice box."
He snorts, "That's a good one."
A moment of silence passes between you, but it's not awkward, it's fond. You're almost ready to get back to your review of his performance, but Lizzie ducks beneath the desk to crouch by Bradley's feet. He cranes his head down to look at her, eyes questioning but kind.
"You have a plane in your pocket," She observes, poking at his F-14 keychain, "I sawed those at the gift shop once."
His face quirks into a smile at her grammar, and he tugs the keys out of his pocket so that she can fiddle with the plane.
"My dad gave it to me when I was your age," He tells her, "That's what he flew in."
"Your dad was a pilot, too?" Lizzie squints up at him, face scrunched.
"No, he sat behind the pilot. He didn't feel like driving."
Bradley's jokes seem to go over well with Lizzie, something that makes your heart flutter. She giggles at, her toothy grin on display, "You don't drive a plane, you fly it."
He chuckles, but he doesn't have time to offer her a proper response before she speaks again, still squinting up at him.
"I like your mustache," She blurts, and you're just glad she doesn't reach up to poke it, "It looks like my grandpa's."
"Less grey, though," You reach down to ruffle her hair, giving Rooster an amused smile when he bites his tongue to stop from laughing.
"Wanna know something?" He raises his brows, leaning in like he's telling Lizzie the nuclear codes.
She leans forwards, just as eager.
"My dad gave that to me, too. He just-" Rooster reaches up to tug at one end of his mustache, "-ripped it off of his face and-" He slaps a hand over his mouth, "-put it on me."
Elizabeth roars with giggles, squealing at the image. Bradley digs in his pocket, the one that hadn't held his keys, and comes out with a creased, yellowed picture from his wallet.
"See?" He holds it out to Liz, showing off a man that's undeniably his father, and a bleach blonde child you can't believe is him, "There he is, that's before he took it off and gave it to me. Can you tell it's the same one?"
"No!" She shakes her head, wobbling to her feet and reaching out. He doesn't back away, but your stomach churns awkwardly at her naive forwardness when she pokes at his lip, "Yours is more higher."
"Lizzie," You rush to grab her arm, but Rooster shoots you a soft smile.
"It's okay," He assures you, voice calm, smooth, and adoring, something that only worsens your pounding heart, "She's fine. I think she's right," He sighs, looking back at the photo, "Maybe he shaved it down before he gave it to me."
Lizzie doesn't have time to ponder the possibilities of The Bradshaw Mustache Transfer before the door creaks open again, Bob's hand bracing it open as a caregiver peers inside cautiously.
Her shoulders slump when she sees Elizabeth and she looks equal parts horrified and delighted at the sight of the unscathed little girl, "Miss Y/L/N, I am so sorry, I didn't-"
"She's an escape artist." You wave away the woman's apologies, "Don't worry about it. Even I can't keep track of her. Go on, Lizzie," You steer her away from Rooster, and you only sigh a little bit when she skips over to hug Natasha first, "And no more running off!"
She's not the one that promises you, her caregiver is. It's not reassuring.
"Anyways, I'm sorry about that," You're not sure if you mean for the general disruption, or for your daughter sticking her fingers around Bradley's mouth, but it's curved into a grin when you turn back to him, so you're sure he doesn't mind.
"It's alright," He promises, "She's cute."
"You're good with kids," You muse offhandedly, ducking down once more to peer at his papers.
"I want a few someday," He admits, righting himself in his chair and tucking the photo of his father away, "I guess this is practice."
"You'll be a fantastic father," You gleam, trying to ignore the familiar heart-flutter when his hand brushes against yours reaching for his pen, "And I'm sure your son will love to carry on the tradition of the Mustache Transfer."
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tswiftsedits · 11 months
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Taylor Swift performs onstage during "The Eras Tour" at Soldier Field on June 02, 2023 in Chicago, Illinois. (Photo by Natasha Moustache/TAS23/Getty Images for TAS Rights Management)
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redfurrycat · 4 months
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🤠💔💞🐓Getting Back Together (Part One) Fic Recs🐓💞💔🤠
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Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕
Ao3 Authors: Andthentheybow, Aphroditedany, Astronomical_light, Boobooblue, Cedricslove, Charlie_mou, Cloudburst, Cloudsandstarss, Dalearden, DancingDisaster, Davidbyrne, Drh0rrible, Earthangel_44, FabuMazX, Ginnydear, Greenstuff, Haridwar, Indybob, Iridescent, Kidfromspace, LaceyAmethyst, Local_troubled_writer, Lyonet, Megs_m, Miraculousmultifan, Multifandommonster, Notchka88, Percyjacksonfan3, Piper__b, Ravens_Words, Soisserieux, Takingovermidnight, Tearsricochets, Thewonderzebra, Welcome_to_the_Badlands, Writteninwaves, Zaskiaz.
> Getting Back Together (Part Two)
the beginning, and the middle (not the end) by cloudburst {T}
But hell, he wasn’t about to tell his fellow pilots the good news that Hangman had finally settled down – in a manner of speaking – and finally met the one. That last part not being an exaggeration had him turning mid-air, flown through the jetwash, unrecoverable spin. He couldn’t pull the fucking eject.
If I Go on With You (By My Side) by piper__b {T}
Did Hangman want to continue what they had together? If they even did continue, could it be like the early days? Of course, it couldn’t. They weren’t irresponsible adults anymore. They weren’t looking for someone to relieve stress with. Rooster was in love and he hoped Hangman was too. You can’t go back to “meaningless” hookups after you realize you love watching them smile and you spend every minute you can to make them laugh because it fills your chest with warmth. You can’t go back after you realize that simple touches like holding hands, or kisses pressed to the crown of their head, is the highlight of your day sometimes.
I won't let go 'til the end by cedricslove {E}
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Bradley asked in a gentle tone, hands softly rubbing his shoulders. “Nothing,” he said, unwillingly tensing at his own response, knowing it would give him away. Bradley sighed, “Why do you always do this? You shut me out.” Re-telling of Rooster and Hangman's relationship from Hangman's perspective
higher further faster, baby by lyonet {E}
The thing about Bradley Bradshaw – seriously, what kind of sadist gives their kid a name like that – is that he’s good, he’s really good, but he could be better and that just pisses Jake off. What can he say, he’s a judgy kind of guy, he gets it from his mother. Put that together with the dumb moustache, the sad puppy eyes, the way Bradley reacts to every single jab Jake tosses his way, and, well – was he expecting Jake to be capable of leaving him in peace? Probably not.
Men Like Us by DancingDisaster
Men Like Us {M}
Seresin men love with reckless abandon. It’s put every man before him in the ground. Jake refuses to be buried. He flies like he has nothing left to lose (he doesn’t), a one man army (he is), leaving everyone else in the dust (so they don’t leave him). Admiral Kazansky claps him on the shoulder, says he expects great things from him, and Jake’s smile is feral as the rest of his flight school cohort looks on in disbelief. Hangman, they all say, like Jake’s entire personality was a long con, and he ranks first in class. Rooster doesn’t look at all. (They've got history spanning the better part of a decade and they are absolutely, positively not over it.)
Bowerbirds And Other Mating Displays {T}
“Why does Seresin keep calling you Bowerbird, Bradshaw?” Mickey asks a few days later during their break between training hops. Natasha laughs so hard coffee almost comes out of her nose. Or— It starts, as many poor decisions do, with a trip to Target.
Golden by Welcome_to_the_Badlands {T}
The only thing running through Jake's head was what if. What if he hadn’t reached them in time? What if they had fallen in the ocean, only miles from where Jake had been waiting in his plane on standby? What if Rooster had died not knowing that Jake still loved him so much Jake could barely breathe?
this is why we can't have nice things (darling) by kidfromspace {T}
The events of Top Gun: Maverick except Hangman and Rooster are bitter exes. And then more.
You Broke My Will, But What a Thrill by soisserieux {_}
Bradley shrugs. “No one there knows about us yet. We didn’t really get together until after we graduated, and I don’t know about you, but I haven’t really mentioned to anyone that I’m dating the Jake Seresin.” “Are you trying to decide how to tell them?” Jake asks. Bradley settles back into his chair. “Actually, I was considering what would happen if we didn’t.” “If we didn’t tell them?” A mischievous grin appears on Bradley’s face, and holy shit, that’s another one of Jake’s favorite expressions. “I was thinking about challenging you to a competition.” Jake grins. “I’m listening.”
if someone was going to break me (I’d want it to be you) by tearsricochets {T}
There’s a kiss being placed on his neck, and he sighs when he realizes it was right on one of the multiple marks Bradley had littered him with that evening. “Should I leave?” he asks, while tightening his arms around his waist. (‘Should I leave?’ he asks. Like Jake would ever make him leave. No, that’s Jake’s job.) He doesn’t say that, instead answering: “Ask again in five.” Because he’s weak, and he’s always got to have an escape route planned, a way out of the hole he’s dug for himself once again.
the moon may be high by multifandommonster {T}
The chance to try again, Jake thinks. For all of them— for Bradley and Jake, for him and Natasha, the chance to do it better in the wake of almost losing each other without ever clearing the air. The chance to be better, to want to be better— for Jake to never leave them behind, and for them to stick with him through the mud. His eyes find Bradley’s again and he’s shocked to see the sheen of tears, the strain it must take to hold eye contact despite the vulnerability. He left you, his brain supplies. But he might never do it again.
One More Miracle by FabuMazX {G}
Bradley sees the exact moment that he reads his mind and his smile falls. Jake’s brow furrows slightly and Bradley sees him swallow. It’s not until Payback brushes past his shoulder that Jake blinks, breaking the line between them; then he’s gone, pushing through the crowd towards the door while the others stare and call after him in a confused cluster. So maybe he needs one more miracle. - It takes a suicide mission for Bradley to realise he's not ready to give up on them. Now he just has to convince Jake. That's miracle number one.
Take My Hand and Hold On Forever by Earthangel_44 {E}
It happens again like clockwork. Every new achievement or award that Jake gets pinned to his chest. Every time he went to Afghanistan or flew with the F-151, Jake calls Bradley. Every COMM he receives or shiny new ribbon that is placed on his chest, Jake called Bradley. Or: Jake gets a lot of awards and Bradley rewards him for his good flying.
I Hate The Way I Sleep Better With You by FabuMazX {T}
5 Times Rooster and Hangman help each other through nightmares +1 time they help somebody else.
epic skill displays and their aftercare by boobooblue {T}
So, the plan. The plan consisted of impressing Rooster with his Upgraded Epic Pool Skills™️.
watching, waiting, still anticipating love by iridescent {T}
Bradley’s fingers caress the keys deftly, coaxing a bittersweet melody from the depths of the piano’s body. Then he starts singing, a few lines here and there almost like an afterthought. His voice is low and husky, lends itself naturally to this sort of soppy and overly sentimental love song. He doesn’t seem to notice Jake being there at all. Despite himself, Jake is transfixed. (Or, three distinct episodes in their lives where Bradley plays the piano and Jake listens.)
no need to pray, no need to speak by dalearden {T}
Taking the very last moment he has, Bradley closes in again on Jake but this time it’s so he can rest his forehead against the man who has been his lover and his rival all at once, his heart doing jumping jacks in his chest as he tries to have one more chance to just breathe. Jake matches him, beat for beat, and Bradley has to close his eyes against the tidal wave of overwhelming sorrow that makes him feel, pressing a hand to Jake’s chest as he murmurs a promise he knows he can’t keep but which he feels he has to make all the same because what if, what if…
still got that old time feeling by haridwar {E}
This was where Bradley’s head had been stuck for the entirety of his trip home. Flying in to San Diego from overseas had given him ample opportunity to overthink. Not about his impromptu homecoming though, or the fact that he would be stopping by his childhood home for the first time in well over a decade, or what it would be like to retrace his steps through Top Gun again like the first time around wasn’t difficult enough. No. His mind was stuck inexplicably upon Jake goddamn Seresin, and his goddamn stupid handsome face, and the fact that he still had way too many feelings for a guy who had walked out on him without so much as a backward glance. Or: yet another retelling of TG:M which covers some of the hangster subtext Tom Cruise neglected to include in his movie
maybe the miles can make up for the things you lack (are you ready to start?) by davidbyrne {M}
“Are you sure you want to do that? With me?” There are a million things Rooster could say in response. He could tell him about how the idea of getting a plane, even a commercial one, still makes his blood buzz in the most uncomfortable way, even after all these months. He could tell him about how, when his mom died, she told him to see the world and he hasn’t even been able to see America, except through Navy-mandated stations. He could retract his offer right now, say he’s actually not sure and doesn’t want to spend three months of his life with his ex. He could tell Jake he loves him, still loves him, and beg him to love him back just the same. He says none of that. Instead, he says, “I’d go anywhere with you, Jake. You know that.” Or three months, 48 states, two men, and their emotional baggage
Slow Ride by Earthangel_44 {E}
“Name it, baby.” Bradley’s voice isn’t even recognizable with how low it’s dropped and Jake’s eyes dilate. The flush slowly moves below the collar of his shirt and Bradley’s eyes follow it. “We go by my rules.” Jake says back. His voice lost the authoritative bite and Bradley smirks. “Which are?” Jake swallows thickly and his gaze drags down Bradley’s body. “You have to beg to fuck me.”
Training Montage by drh0rrible {E}
No matter where in the world you found yourself stationed, Navy bars were all the same. It was a comfort really, a nice bit of stability in a life defined by chaos. It starts in a Navy bar, and then another one, and another one. A one night stand, to half a relationship, to exes, to maybe something again. Another history of Rooster and Hangman.
why’d you wait so long (to tell me you need me) by thewonderzebra {E}
“Can you promise me something?” Jake calls into the darkness. Bradley tries to keep his muscles from tensing up at the thought of the broken promises he’s weathered in his lifetime. He slips his hands under the shirt Jake is wearing, palms and fingertips on warm, soft skin acting as a grounding mechanism. “That’s dangerous,” he warns. He knows he would do anything, say anything if it means never losing Jake again. But in their profession, promises are never a guarantee of permanence. Still, Jake seems aware of the danger and is determined to forge ahead, fearless as ever. “Promise me that we’re forever.” OR A retelling of TG:M explaining the background of Jake and Bradley’s relationship, and how it comes to evolve.
wish I knew how to hold you by Ravens_Words {T}
Bradley bullies Jake's flight information out of Javy, and it's much easier than he thought it would be. Probably because he doesn't want his best friend to be alone. "Bradshaw," Javy says before he hangs up, "you- I know he doesn't make it easy, but take care of him, will you?" He hesitates, takes a deep breath, "sure." For the first time, he wonders if he made a mistake, bit off more than he can chew. Jake goes back home, Bradley goes with him. It goes about as well as one can expect.
flames look beautiful (if you forget what they can do) by Ravens_Words {T}
Bradley Bradshaw returns to consciousness with a gasp, hand going to his side, where a searing pain makes itself known. "-ster, hey," Jake snaps, holds his face in both hands and forces him to look his way, "breathe." Bradley does as he's told, as painful as it is, and his vision clears somewhat. Jake's crouched beside him, concern etched on his face, and what happened comes back to him in flashes. The mission going sideways at every possible turn, seeing Jake's plane get shot down in the sky, the less than smooth emergency landing in the woods that followed.
we are tonight, we are forever by thewonderzebra {E}
Jake Seresin is the master of acting aloof, but when it comes down to it, Bradley can read him like an open book, seeing through every wall Jake puts up, through to his vulnerable soul. And right now, the book that is Hangman is all but screaming ‘come and get me’. OR An interlude in the Hard Deck, set during TG:M.
you can't be gone by writteninwaves {G}
It was like they were on a tightrope, carefully tugging on each ends and hoping they won’t fall. No parachutes, no safety nets. Two single pilots. Only thing they had was each other. Together, an unstoppable force. Bradley and Jake, their messes, fights and love, as told through Taylor Swift's 'Haunted'.
all of these games we play (I can't even keep 'em all straight) by tearsricochets {T}
He knows, theoretically, Jake wants some kind of reaction out of him. He’d seen it in the look he’d given Bradley right before accepting the man's invitation, but he also knows that he’s sick of the one having to make all the big emotional moves. He opens his mouth to tell Tasha as much, but stops when he sees a girl at the bar looking at him. She’s a curvy blonde, someone who looks like she was in a sorority in college. Her hair is perfectly curled, and her lips are a dark red color. She’s giving him a very long once-over, and when she meets his eyes again she smiles coyly. (Look, you don’t need to tell him it’s a bad plan, okay? He knows.) (Natasha does not care.) Because she knows the second she follows his eyeline what he’s going to do, and immediately opens her mouth to protest. “Do not do what I think you are about to Bradshaw.” He turns to look at her, the new gaze burning his skin. “Why not? He can play games but I can’t? Please, Tasha, give me a reason not to and I’ll leave it alone. Jesus, tell me what we are doing, at this point that would be just as great.” OR: the one in which they play many games, and then the one time they don’t.
we don’t know how to rhyme (but damn we try) by zaskiaz {T}
Bradley sighs and turns to greet his date, an automatic, if not bland smile plastered on his face. It’s when he makes eye contact with the person that his smile falters and falls as if it was never there to begin with. “You gotta be shitting me,” he breathes, disbelieving, at the same time Hangman hisses, “Oh, fuck no. or, the blind date but they are exes au
miles to go by Notchka88 {M}
Truth be told, Bradley hadn’t been expecting to be team leader. Given Maverick’s continued criticism of his flying and the shit Bradley had said to him—it had startled him to be Maverick’s choice. It had startled Hangman too, judging by the way his jaw had tightened and how he’d looked away, avoiding Bradley’s eyes during the briefing. Bradley should have been ready for Hangman’s reaction after everything that had happened between them, but it had still stung. (AU Canon Divergence where Rooster is Dagger One, Hangman is Dagger Two, and the mission goes as badly as in the movie. When Rooster is shot down, it's Hangman who follows after him.)
gonna let it burn, burn, burn by dalearden {M}
"Bradley still doesn’t really know how it had gone so spectacularly wrong between them but he thinks he might be getting an idea, experiencing now what love seems to mean for Jake Seresin, that it’s basically on the same level as deity worship and it’s all so much, so intense, nearly too much to bear to be on the receiving end of. He can’t begin to what it must be like to feel it if receiving it is like this."
slipped from my fingertips by astronomical_light {M}
“So tell me, Rooster,” Jake says from beside him. Bradley turns and takes him in, the way he’s leaning on his elbow on the bar, chest open towards Bradley as he mindlessly swivels his lower body on the barstool. “Why haven’t you settled yourself down yet?”
Always by greenstuff {E}
Jake meets Bradley for the first time when they're eighteen. This is the story about how they fall in love, break up, and then spend years finding their way back to each other. A modern Persuasion, if you squint a bit.
got to get your lovin' (one more time) by Percyjacksonfan3 {E}
When the first opening for an assignment comes his way he grasps it with both hands. It’s long, it’s far away, and it’s a distraction. It’s that mission that he gets his first and so far only kill, marking him as the only Navy pilot in active duty to have one. A couple of the TOPGUN graduates text him congratulations when they hear. A couple of them don’t. Jake grits his teeth and moves on. It's the backstory breakup fic that I couldn't not write after watching this movie, along with these two figuring themselves out after the events of Maverick to realize they actually did belong together all along. Also Phoenix and Coyote are the best friends two disasters like Rooster and Hangman could ask for, and I love them.
I bet you think about me by miraculousmultifan {T}
Hangman could admit to himself that, although he understood the gesture for what it was, he really didn’t want to attend Bradshaw’s stupid fucking wedding. And he was actually lying about that whole “understanding the gesture” thing. He didn’t understand. It felt more like a “Fuck you!” from Rooster to invite him to the wedding like he didn’t know damn well that Hangman would just be imagining himself beside him. And of course, he didn’t have a plus one because all their other friends were taking their own dates. *** Rooster is getting married, and against his better judgment, Hangman attends the rehearsal dinner with the rest of the Daggers. It goes about how he expected, if maybe a little better?
Left Hanging by takingovermidnight {T}
When Jake Seresin adopts the attitude that later earns him his "Hangman" call sign, Bradley Bradshaw cannot help but feel somewhat responsible.
this love came back to me by miraculousmultifan {M}
"this love is good, this love is bad, this love is alive back from the dead" *** During the mission, Jake and Bradley reminisce on what they had and what they could have had. Until they end up having it after all.
another perfect night to spend wide awake by andthentheybow {T}
After the mission, the team arrives back on land for a week-long leave while the brass decides what to do with them. Two days after they’ve landed, no one has seen Rooster other than Maverick, who’s scarce himself. Hangman and Phoenix decide to do something about it.
'cause you never gave a warning sign by LaceyAmethyst {M}
“Hangman, it’s on fire,” he screamed. “Don’t—” But it was too late. “Throttling up.” “NO!” Bradley screamed, seeing Jake’s right engine blow. His plane started falling, and Bradley couldn’t keep the words in anymore. “JAKE! NO! JAKE!" -- Bradley and Jake broke up in Lemoore, and a year later they’re assigned to the Dagger Squad mission. Bradley thinks he’s got his heart under control, thinks he can handle Jake looking at him like he’s a stranger, like they didn’t mean the world to each-other once. But then a bird strike hits Jake’s plane, and Bradley proceeds to Lose His Fucking Shit.
a dead love's buried beneath the dirt by Ravens_Words {T}
Jake is looking up at the ceiling, trying to find shapes in the mold that litters the walls, when two men walk in. They're wearing masks, and walk towards him with purpose. One of them steps around the chair Jake's in, and the other takes out his phone. He's strapped to the chair with some sort of belt around his chest, his arms are bound to the chair's, and so are his legs, so he can't really move to see what the guy behind him is doing, and against his will, his heart rate skyrockets. A hand darts out from behind, wraps around his neck so tightly he sees stars, and the tip of a knife breaks the skin as it's pressed into his throat. "Admiral Seresin," the man behind the camera says, and Jake's heart sinks right down to his toes, "you have exactly 48 hours to give us back our money, and our shipment, or your son dies."
I never stopped loving you by cloudsandstarss {T}
Jake's been enjoying his vacation, when he gets a call from Bradley.
slow down (you're doing fine) by charlie_mou {M}
"But have you ever thought about what happened after?" Suddenly, Jake felt like the tone alarm was going off and he was stuck in the cockpit with the hydraulics out. "After?" "His dad died before he even turned three. His mom died a week after he turned nine. Have you thought about what happened after?" Or, Seven years after their break up, Jake and Bradley are finally about to admit why it happened. But instead of resolving whatever there is between them, Bradley starts giving Jake heart attacks while in the sky - and Jake has a feeling it's all about more than flying. Going to Maverick for advice might just clear things up for him. (or, I heard 'slow ride' and 'waiting for the right moment' and made it into a backstory for all of Rooster's issues)
As We Go by megs_m {T}
Rebuilding is so much harder than tearing down. He's sure there is something profound about that-but he's too exhausted to care. There’s a maelstrom of conflicting emotions running through him. Elation, guilt, fear, hope, terror, and longing. He feels like he’s seconds from being ripped apart - the different forces are too much for his broken self - he’s already held together with duct tape and hope - he can’t possibly withstand this too.
With His Head Held High by dalearden {T}
Jake was born and raised in Texas and he knows a thing or two about guns. When Hard Deck is raided by a band of thugs and all inside taken hostage, Jake gets his hands on a rifle that Penny keeps under the counter and shows them exactly why they shouldn’t mess up with his Team. And Rooster may or may not get hard by seeing how precise Jake’s aim is.
When The Sky Falls by Welcome_to_the_Badlands {G}
“No one has called me that in a year and a half, and the one time someone did, he almost got a broken nose,” Bradley says, his face still buried in Jake’s chest. Jake sucks in a sharp breath but doesn't say anything. “No one has touched me in about that long either,” Bradley adds after a few seconds.
images of broken light by dalearden {E}
The tears fall freely this time before he can stop them and when Bradley brushes the wetness away for him with the callused pads of his fingers, Jake can feel something in him break. “Come back,” he whispers, a secret plea for Bradley’s ears only. “Whatever happens out there just…please come back.” Bradley’s eyes pool with sorrow, like he already knows what’s going to happen and can’t stop it even if he wanted to but he kisses Jake and breathes a promise they both know can’t be kept into him anyway.
touch you like I do by ginnydear {E}
But now, I have finally seen the end. by Aphroditedany {G}
Sometimes, it's simply love.
if honesty means telling you the truth (I’m still in love with you) by local_troubled_writer {E}
Bradley “I got sent on a suicide mission” Bradshaw and Jake “and I took the ‘suicide’ part personally” Seresin. Aka, the one where they go on the impossible mission, somehow make it out alive and someone confessed some feelings.
riding on waves by writteninwaves {G}
“Maybe in a few years, we’ll be in the same place somehow. If you still want to try then, come find me there. In that somewhere…” Bradley loves the skies and the sea. He loves Jake too but it takes him a while to learn how to love being on the ground for himself, and stop running away. Soft introspective Bradley feels + drives + rain + actual crying that happens in the bronco
We're Better Together by indybob {T}
In the aftermath of the mission, Jake stays the night at Bradley’s to make sure he settles in with the minor injuries he sustained. A nightmare, a late-night conversation, lots of tears, and closure ensue. Or: The mission makes Jake and Bradley realize that they’re still in love and that life is too short to not try again.
from this day to the ending of the world by dalearden {_}
Jake flies the mission instead of Maverick and takes the hit meant for Bradley. The two pilots find themselves stranded in enemy territory battling against the willderness and, in Jake's case, a bullet wound from the guns of a fifth gen fighter. It's the worst possible time for Bradley to realize just how deep his feelings for Jake really run.
I’ve been loving you for quite some time by dalearden {E}
After surviving the impossible, Jake is back where he belongs...being worshipped in Bradley's bed. (A little porny follow-up to my previous story from this day to the ending of the world.)
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stargazing15 · 1 year
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It's in his eyes
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Jake Seresin x Y/N Trace
Summary: you met Jake at a masked party and got lost in his eyes, falling for him, hard. And Jake, well he was a lovesick puppy too after the party.
A/N: just look at the man's eyes, got distracted by the gif everytime I was trying to write. And that cute face
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"Y/N, can you please stop talking about your zorro, I'm actually glad I was sick during the Halloween party, can we please enjoy the beach? I actually want to enjoy quality time with my little sister."
"Sorry Nat, it's just, he was so perfect, his eyes..." and you got lost again in the memory of a couple of nights ago.
You had just arrived in San Diego, following the footsteps of your bigger sister Natasha. You both had the dream to become a Naval aviator, but she was the only one achieving the dream, with your 4'11 you didn't pass the requirements. Still not wanting to bury your dream to work with planes, you became flight technician, the best one existing. So this you got transferred too to San Diego, getting reunited with your sister.
After getting settled in in your shared appartement with your sister she had a week off, starting your quality time with the annual Halloween party at the Hard Deck. Of course Nat being Nat, she got sick on her first day off, something she always had, like her body knew when it didn't need to perform.
Since it was a masked party, she still insisted you to go and have fun. Which you definitely had. Being a part of the Trace family meant the best costumes, or in this case you went as a pumpkin, a cute one. It had a little puffy orange body and the eye mask as the top of the pumpkin.
During the party you had met this Zorro by remarking he was very fake for not wearing the moustache and like that you two got talking throughout the whole night. But your breath got taking away by his piercing beautiful green eyes with this slight darker green shade on the edge. He had also had a good physique, but it were his eyes you got distracted by. Both liking the mystery, talking about everything except your names and occupation.
When you got outside and sat under the light, there was this comfortable silence between the two of you staring in each other's eyes, getting lost in them.
"I can get lost in your eyes" you had blurted out loud.
Jake's POV
"Jake can you please stop talking about your pumpkin, you should've asked her number, idiot. You know there's a big chance you're never going to see her again." Coyote complained to his friend who was whining over and over again about this girl he met a couple of days ago on the Halloween party. Hangman was normally not the type for relationships, but he has never been this head over heels for a girl.
He couldn't get her out of his head, every second was dedicated to her. She was so small compared to him, looking adorable in that cute pumpkin costume, remarking him on his incomplete costume with that sweet voice. And oh those beautiful big brown orbs. She had something said about his eyes, but he couldn't give a compliment back, he felt too lost looking at her, adoring the sight in front of him. So he let his body speak as he cupped her small face in his hands and kissed her softly. He kissed her over and over again in between talking and staring in each other's eyes until she had to leave.
"Jake? Bagman? Hello, earth speaking!" Jake snapped out of his thoughts, "man, you've got it bad." Rooster said while patting him on his back. "But did you see her complete face? Tell me you at least got her name?"
"No" Jake whispered softly "but I can recognise her eyes out of a thousand."
"Do I really have to go with you?" You nagged at your sister.
"Never thought I would say this, but I think you're in love man. Phoenix is lucky she has to miss your whining."
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"Yes, stop being such a baby. You're coming with me, meet my coworkers, maybe you will work on one of their planes in the near future. Stop whining and woman up."
"Okay" you give up, Nat won this battle.
"Jake, shut up, will you!" You hear a male voice say while entering the Hard Deck.
"Didn't miss that while catching up with you," Nat whispered. "Everyone, this is my little sister, Y/N, she just transferred here, she's the best technician existing."
"Wait, there are two Traces? And there is a cute one?" Coyote remarked.
"Coyote! She's off-" before she could finish, Jake had woken up from his pity party he was throwing for himself.
"Pumpkin?" Jake had looked up at the word 'cute' and not believing his eyes that his adorable pumpkin had landed in front of him, like an angel descending from heaven.
"Zorro without the moustache?" You had recognized those beautiful green anywhere, your heartbeat rised with seeing him, felling a little bit dizzy. Within the second Jake had wrapped you in a tight hug, never wanting to let go of you. You wiggled yourself out of the needing embrace to start kissing him. You had missed him like crazy.
"Bagman? What? My sister? Y/N, no!" Both your and Jake's action leaving your sister shocked. She never guessed the sweet man you described was Hangman.
"So your sister is the love of Hangman's life, didn't see that one coming." Rooster said with a small laugh.
Jake had snapped out of the world where only you and him existed and stopped kissing, so he could tug you to your sister. "I'm going to do this the right way. Phoenix, can I take your sister out on a date?"
"What no, stay away from her! You're not gonna corrupt her!"
"Come on Phoenix, Bagman here has been sulking ever since the party. Believe us when we say that he's in love with your sister." Rooster was surprisingly defending Hangman for once.
"Phoenix, look at the bright side, your sister can learn him some manners." Bob added in Hangman's defense.
"No! Go date him yourself, I expected better from you Bob."
"Have you looked at him? Hangman has never been like this for someone, look at the lovesick puppy and look at your sister." Coyote was right, no one had seen Hangman swoon for a girl. The softness appearing in his eyes when he was talking about her, the way he was genuinely regretting letting you go that night. He would have laughed in your face when someone would've said two weeks ago he would be thinking now about buying a house with someone, going on the cheesiest dates, wanting to marry her and having kids with her. And right now he didn't want to think about anything else. If it was possible he would do it all at the same time.
"You have my permission, but don't make me regret this Hangman, she's my little sister."
"Y/N, would you like to go on an official date with me, like right now?"
"Yes, yes!" You were smiling from ear to ear.
"Nat, you said I might work on one if their planes, I guess you were right." You smirked at your sister and running off quickly with Jake to the beach.
Taglist: @mrsjaderogers , @bradleybeachbabe
"Oh my god, Y/N!"
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evermoredeluxe · 11 months
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thank you for this natasha moustache you are everything
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buckyscombatboots · 2 years
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Monstertober Day 3:
The Scarecrow walks at midnight
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Pairing: Scarecrow!Ari Levinson x Reader
Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, serious Non con, death, mentions of blood, asphyxiation/choking, bruises (not the kinky kind), Beefy!Ari (6,8ft), size difference, held down, chasing, p in v
Nicknames: Song bird, birdie
Word count: 2.3k
༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🎀 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺
AN: My apologies that this is a bit late, I had some health issues yesterday which really messed up my whole day. I ended up changing it from Headless horseman!Bucky to Scarecrow!Ari, because I had such bad writers block when trying to write it. I hope y’all enjoy and like all the Goosebumps references ♥︎
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You pull up to The Stanley's farm, you’d know the Stanley’s for a long time. Everyone in this town knew everyone, that’s how it always been. Which is why, when Natasha sent you texts saying to come find her in a corn maze. You knew this was where she was talking about and despite the fact that it was technically closed right now, you knew the Stanley’s wouldn’t mind. You hopped out of the warmth of your car and into the autumn night. You loved the countryside, but you hated the fact that there were no lights. You only had the stars and the moon to guide you as you stumbled across the rocky path towards the corn maze.
It wasn’t far, you could see the sign, but you could also see a foreboding wooden cross standing outside the corn maze that you’d never seen before. You stopped in front of the wooden cross, running your fingers across the red paint chipping off the splintering wood. There’s nails with shreds of fabric still tangled around the posts; there was something hung up here at some point, a scarecrow more likely than not “The shity neighbourhood kids probably ripped it off” you huff “Always ruining everything, they threw paint in the plaza fountain only last week.” You drag your hand to the apex of the cross, it’s warm. Peculiar. You brush it off, despite your uncertainty, and look back at the text Natasha sent you.
I’m in the corn maze
Bet you can’t find me, scaredy-cat 👻🐈‍⬛
She had some nerve calling you a scaredy-cat, who in their right mind wouldn’t be scared to go alone into a bloody corn maze at midnight. It was pitch black, aside from the piercing light of the moon that parted the slate clouds that drifted across the inky, velvet blanket of the sky.
You stand infront of the en tree dance of the corn maze. It’s marked by an ornate metal sign, with chipping discoloured paint ‘Stanley’s Corn Maze’ it said in a faded orange paint. It felt like the beginning of a horror movie. Two friends enter a corn maze at night, now you just need a killer.
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“Natashaaaaa” you sing “where are youuuuuu?” You’d been walking for what felt like forever, your phone was only on 4%. Nerves were starting to prickle in your belly “Come on I can’t find you! I give up okay so let’s go! I wanna watch a scary movie. Oooo maybe we can watch ‘Stay out of the Basement’ that’s meant to be good.” You hear the rustling of the dying corn leaves being pushed aside behind you, but still no reply from Natasha “Nat, if you’re trying to scare me it ain’t gonna work. I can hear you.” You spin around on your heel. It was not Natasha.
It was a man, he looked to be well over six foot tall. From where you were standing he was an Adonis; a halo of blonde hair and bulging muscle. He stepped closer, you remained still.
In the moon's pale light you could see the dirty blonde hair, tousled and scruffy with loose bits of hay and dirt tangled in his locks. He had a thick beard and moustache, but the glow from the moon still allowed you to see his prominent cheekbones. His firm chest strained against the thin fabric of his red, plaid shirt. You could see the contour of his torso and arms, he was covered in muscle and towering over you. As he stepped closer, further into the moonlight, you could see his face clearer; there were two messy stitches on either side of his mouth, clotted blood surrounding the punctures and strands of hay protruding from his skin. As he neared closer. You stumbled backwards. Fresh blood coated his thick, veiny arms all the way up to his sleeves rolled at his elbows, the cloth of his sleeves stained and dripping “Where are you going little bird? I want you to sing for me.” The stitched corners of his lips stretched into a smile as he lunged forward at you, his heavy body's ungraceful movements allowed you to dart past him into the thicket of corn. Your hands guarded your face defensively as you dashed through the corn, the brown, aged husks and leaves whipping at your exposed skin “Birdie! I’m gonna find you!” His bellowing voice pierced through the deafening sound of your blood rushing in your head.
You paused as your foot treads on something squishy, yet firm, you turn your gaze to the floor. Natasha. She’s beaten and bloody, clothes torn and her head appears to almost be severed from her shoulders “Nat…” you whimper, her eyes are still open. You hear the jostling of corn. You have no time to close them as you take off again, the bleak night air drowning you as you gulp it down like a fish. The burning tears dripping from your eyes burn your icy skin, you turn your head back to try to see him. He’s not there. You practically jump out of your skin as you hear a loud crack of thunder rumble around you, then cold drops of rain begin to fall. The drops that sprinkle across your skin send goosebumps across your skin, your hairs prickling to a point as you shiver.
You need to keep running, despite your exhaustion you find it within you to keep going. You can hear the corn rattling around you from every direction, you were so disorientated. As you jogged through the maze you reached down to your pocket to search for your dying phone, that’s when all hope drained from you. You’d dropped your fucking phone. The rain began to pick up, turning from a light dusting to harsh, thick droplets that fell with such speed that it hurt your skin. You came to a halt in a patch of newly formed mud, what were you meant to do? You felt doomed, you could no longer restrain the sobs that left you, lip wobbling as you choked on your sorrows.
One second you're standing, the next you’re tackled to the ground. Your shoulder collides with the sludgy earth and air catches in your lungs as you let out a choked yelp. You smash your hands into the Scarecrow's strong chest as you writhe against his fierce grip, he only needs one of his hands to overpower you and pin your hands above your head. You’re forced to look at him atop of you. His hair is glued to his forehead with sweat and the moonlight causes the thin sheen covering his skin to glitter like tiny diamonds. He bends closer to you, hot puffs of air from his heavy breathing suffocating you. He presses his face into the crook of your neck; the bristly hairs of his beard scratching against your neck as he licks at your neck, he shoved his nose into your hair and takes a long deep breathe in “Smell so good birdie, better than other woman. Ari’s gonna give you pleasure now.” You thrash against him kicking at him, he ignores it and bends one of your legs over his shoulder, “Lie still, Song bird, gonna make you feel so nice.” He grunts as you kick at his face, catches your ankle in his free hand and squeezes. His grip strength is inhuman. You shriek as you feel your bones creaking against the pressure he applies, your bones threaten to snap.
“Stop! Stop! I won’t kick you please!” You scream, the agony sending shocks across your nerves and to your brain, a dull ache lingering in your skull. He lets go of your ankle and lands a powerful punch to your gut, grit your teeth and grunt “Oof!” acidic sickness rising in your throat, you swallow it.
“Other girl wouldn’t stop screaming. Squeezed her too hard. Always squeeze too hard, it was an accident. Not gonna squeeze as hard with you, Birdie, like you, like your voice, like your scent. Want you alive.” His large hand tears your shorts and panties with one pull, the display petrified you but it also made your pussy drip. He ran two fingers through your fold, collecting some of your slick and bringing it to his mouth. He sucked his fingers clean of your cream, releasing his fingers with a loud pop “Taste so good. Need to fuck you.” Ari grumbled, undoing his jeans, releasing his member that slapped against his clothed stomach. It was long and ribbed with a thick purple vein running up the shaft and patch of pale blonde hair dusted his pelvis.
You moved your hips away from him. He hooks his calloused hand under your knee quickly and pulls you closer “No riggling, Birdie. Don’t wanna hurt you.” The fear freezes you in place and he takes the chance to thrust all the way inside you, smashing into your cervix causing you scream out and thrash as his dick crams uncomfortable inside you, he’s too big. You can feel the rubbed texture of his cock as your walls clamp harshly in an attempt to push him out. He pistons his hips without a care, unbothered by your body's feeble attempt at rejection. Your shrieks appear to fall upon death ears until he lifts you slightly by your wrists and then slams you back into the ground. Your brain rattles in your skull as your head hits the floor; a pounding pain throbs across the back of your head, and you look at him with a bewildered expression.
“No, Birdie, you’re meant to sing nicely. No screaming, or I’ll squeeze.” His scratchy knuckles brushes away the tears flowing down your cheeks. You nod and whimper, fighting the pain and letting out soft ‘oh’s and ‘ah’s as he continued his brutal pace, bending closer to you pushing your legs into you, angling your hips so he could thrust even deeper. Spearing you all the way to the hilt of his girthy length, you let out a guttural cry as he grunted and groaned in response to his own wild thrusts. Heat spread across your back as his pelvis rubbed against your clit “Tight.” He growled, pressing a kiss to your temple, he smelt strongly of hay and dirt, but underneath that strong scent of petrichor was a uniquely manly musk. Your pleasure was interrupted as his hand released your wrists, he slammed his fist into the ground, snarling as he thrusted. The hand holding your knee squeezed extremely tightly, you could feel bruises forming under his touch.
“Ow! Ari! Squeezing too tight!” You yowled, he was going to snap your knee. You dug your nails into the back of his neck, his pace slowed; his hips stuttering as he came to a stop entirely.
“Sorry, SongBird. Won’t squeeze anymore.” For a man…Scarecrow who was raping you he was being surprisingly considerate. He rubbed the pad of his thumb against your reddened cheeks soothingly before pulling out all the way to his tip before ramming back into you, hard enough for your body to slide around in the mud below you. Your lungs burn and your throat is raw. You bite back a scream when his bulbous tip collided with your cervix once again “Close. So close. Sing! Sing for me Birdie!” You whimper and let out an involuntary moan as his cock rubs the sweet spot within you. His barred teeth soften into a smile at your moans, his free hand comes to neck and he begins to squeeze. You remember Natasha, the way her head laid in a pool of blood. How you could barely see any remnants of her neck. You began to thrash once again, Ari ignored you, lost in his own pleasure. You could feel his cock twitching inside, in your mind you pleaded for him to come. For it to be over. His thrusts quickened even more, his hips bashing painfully into your ass. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin overpowering the crackle of thunder. He threw his head back and let out a full bodied groan, which resembled a roar as he came inside you. The ropes of his come were cold, just like his whole body-ice cold, the amount of his spend was unrelenting. He released your neck, you let out a series of cough thanking God for answering you as took deep breaths of air. You’d never been so grateful to be able to breathe.
Ari still hadn’t pulled out, he was still hard. Your pussy was rubbed raw from his pubic hair, and your clit ached painful from the force of his pelvis colliding with it. Then his thrusts continued. He wanted to go again. You clawed at him and he pinned you again “Bad Birdie, not done yet.” He murmured. You stared up at the moon as it mocked you, moving so freely through the sky. You curse the moon for letting him come alive. Your thoughts begin to fade as you just gaze up at the moving clouds heavy with more rain.
Resistance was futile. So you just laid there taking it. You close your eyes, your head was heavy from the adrenaline crash. You hoped sleep would take you, and it did.
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The orange, pink tinge of sunset colours your vision as you open your eyes. Your ears are ringing, a piercing static reverberating in your skull. Your eyes sting and your throat is strained and scratchy. You push your hands beside you, they sink into the mud slightly as you sit up. A dull pain radiates throughout the apex of your thighs and legs, the bruises that litter them clear in the garish glow of the orange morning sun. You look around you, there’s hay scattered across the ground and beside you is the Scarecrow, face down in the mud your phone beneath his freakishly human hands. The baritone sound of his voice echoes in your mind as you pull your phone out and turn it on. 1% battery…Better call the right person.
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Tag list: @alina02 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @cevansgurl @getwellsoontana @bval-1 @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @flamefoxxrecs @savstranger @sojuxxi @cjand10 @sweetwrathoflilith @adoreyouusugar
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I Could Keep Your Bed Warm; Otherwise I'm Useless
There’s always been something sacred about them, a certain rooster-and-phoenix-ness that's felt impenetrable. The way they share glances during conversations, brush arms passing pool cues. Jake’s never seen them so much as peck each other on the lips and still, he knows they’ve had their mouths on each other. They read each other too intuitively for people not intimately acquainted with each other’s bodies.
Which Jake isn’t jealous of, alright? He’s not. Despite how much that ridiculous moustache of Rooster’s is just begging for Jake’s thumb to stroke across it, for the brush of his lips. The swipe of his tongue. Jesus, sometimes Jake thinks he’d settle for just watching Phoenix do it. Just to look, if that’s all the universe will grant him, while Bradley Bradshaw gets taken apart.
After the mission, Bradley and Natasha have Jake over for drinks. Jake's feelings get the better of him, but maybe that's okay.
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin/Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Natasha "Phoenix" Trace Rating: Explicit Words: 7,648 Tags: Threesome, Getting Together, Post-Canon, Porn with Feelings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Self-Esteem Issues, Light Dom/sub, Praise Kink, Queer Themes, Queerplatonic Relationships, Fluid Sexuality, Mutual Pining
Read it here on AO3
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oathkeeperoxas · 15 days
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ooh Event Horizon please? for the wip ask game?
wip game ask meme
yesss, the SecNav Ice fic!! I'm trying to only focus on one long fic at a time, but after I finish the omega Ice long fic, this one is definitely next up. There is a LOT going on in this one, and also I made myself care about Bradley during some of the drafting of it, which is pretty funny ahaha. It's set in 2021, five years after TGM, but there are a few changes going on, the least of which is that Ice is still around 👀
There's going to be both Bradley and Ice pov throughout this, so sharing some of Bradley and Natasha since I'm actually quite fond of what I've gotten down for them so far
“Is this Captain Mitchell?”  Phoenix is holding a photo where Rooster must be seven or eight. He’s on Mav’s shoulders, and Mav is grinning at the camera, aviators on, while Rooster has his arms thrown up in victory. He remembers that afternoon – there’d been a race down on the beach for the fastest pair of father and son. Rooster had been sulking because he couldn’t race, because he didn’t have a dad– Mav had grabbed him, tickled him until he’d been crying with laughter, and had swung him up onto his shoulders. “Let’s show them how it’s done,” he’d said, all lean lines and fiercely competitive spirit, and they’d taken their place and they’d crossed the line first. His mother had taken the photo. He’d forgotten the memory, until seeing the evidence of it in Phoenix’s hands.  “Yeah,” Rooster says, reluctantly. “This is his house.”  Phoenix’s eyes whip up to him. “Captain Mitchell’s house?” she asks, and she’s not stupid. Not by a long shot. She looks back at the photos of Rooster’s prom and high school graduation, the beginnings of his moustache on his face even then, and then looks back at the photo she’s holding. “This kid is you, isn’t it?”  Numbly, he nods. What else can he say?
Send me a title from my wip list, and I'll tell you about it!
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bedlamsbard · 2 months
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POV (Natasha POV, if you're amenable?)
I got a little carried away.
*****
Natasha didn’t bother to think, just threw herself down over Steve like there was a chance in hell that her fragile human body could do anything against an Infinity Stone.  He got an arm around her as the power of the Infinity Stones washed over them both, a brilliant wave of blue and green energy with Thanos’s face grinning behind it.
There was a sensation like falling that seemed to go on and on, Natasha’s stomach turning over as she squeezed her eyes shut.  Then, just when she thought she couldn’t bear it anymore, she struck the bottom, Steve heavy on top of her as he rolled to get her beneath him, putting his body between her and any oncoming danger.  Natasha curled herself up, too dazed to do anything else.  Her heartbeat was a harsh, frantic patter that matched Steve’s, her breath a harsh rasp in her throat, and all she could see were coruscating waves of blue and green.  There was a kind of roaring in her ears that only belatedly resolved itself into shouting human voices, though she still couldn’t make out the words.
Steve was off her now, the scuffle of his feet close enough that she could identify it as the sound of fighting.  Natasha stumbled upright, her vision still a wash of blue and green, but she set her back against Steve’s and slammed a punch into the face – or whatever – of someone who tried to grab her, which resulted in a yell of pain.  She swept her batons out of their harness, wanting the extra reach of the weapons; she didn’t want to risk shooting off her bites when she couldn’t see what she was shooting at.  She jabbed one into the gut of someone who tried another grab for her, then another hard blow that knocked him away from her.
The white noise roar of sound was beginning to resolve into words, a man yelling, “Stop shooting!  Stop shooting up my lab, damn it!”
It was a voice she had heard before, but only in recordings.  No, she thought, astonished, even before the speaker went on, “Steve – Steve, it’s Howard, it’s Howard Stark.  You’re okay – you’re safe, okay?  You’re in SSR headquarters.”
As her vision slowly began to clear, Natasha saw that she was in a big brick-walled room with a groined ceiling, surrounded by men and a few women in old-fashioned clothing, even split between civilian clothing and American army uniforms that she had last seen on a History Channel documentary about the Second World War.  There were two men down on the floor in front of her, one in civilian clothes and one with an MP’s white armband.
“What the hell,” she whispered, looking back over her shoulder at Steve.
He was breathing hard, his eyes wide with shock.  He’d acquired a pistol somewhere, probably from one of the several MPs who were groaning on the floor near him, and had the barrel braced on top of his remaining Wakandan shield.  There was a man standing in front of him with his hands up, a dark-haired, clever-faced man with a thin moustache and a very obvious family resemblance to Tony Stark.  His gaze was fixed on Steve, unblinking but with relief so profound that it hurt a little to see.
“Steve,” Howard Stark said, “can you give me the gun?  It’s okay – it’s just me.  It’s just me, Steve.”  He reached out to take the gun from Steve, who let him do it, and passed the weapon back to one of the nearby MPs.  “Steve?” he said again.
“Howard,” Steve croaked, sounding he was on the verge of hyperventilating.
“Hey,” Howard said, his shoulders slumping a little in relief. “You scared the blazes out of us.”  He pushed Steve’s shield arm down gently, his gaze moving across Steve and then Natasha, before returning to Steve.
“Steve?” Natasha said, her brain still scrambling to put two and two together and come up with something other than five.  Or 1945.
“It’s –”  He had to take a moment before he continued. “It’s okay, Nat.  Stand down.”
She hesitated, then slid her batons back into their holster and turned to put her shoulder against his, looking Howard Stark over properly.  She had known it intellectually, but because most of the pictures or videos she had seen had been later in his life Natasha had never processed until just now that he was exactly the same age as Steve.
She could feel Steve starting to shake against her shoulder, his gaze darting wildly across the room and its occupants, but he looked back as Howard Stark said his name again.
“Steve, I’m going to hug you now, okay?”  Howard said.  “Don’t punch me.”
He moved slowly enough that Steve could have stepped back if he had wanted to, but Steve didn’t.  Natasha moved a little to one side to let Steve return his embrace, trying to watch them and the crowd of onlookers at the same time, and saw the way that Howard let his breath out in relief once he had his hands on Steve.  They lingered on Steve’s shoulders as he drew back and Natasha thought, Oh.
Suddenly a lot of things about Tony Stark’s complicated feelings about his father and Captain America had become clear.
“It is you,” Howard Stark said, before he finally let Steve go and turned his attention to Natasha. “Who’s your friend?”
Since Steve still looked like he was going to start hyperventilating at any moment, Natasha said, “Natasha Ro –”
“Rogers,” Steve said before she could finish.
“Natasha Rogers,” she said smoothly, nudging her shoulder against his and not letting herself wonder what the hell he was thinking; they could sort it out later.
Howard’s eyebrows went upwards, but all he said was, “Sounds like you have a lot to tell us about.  Starting with what the hell just happened and how the hell you got in here, because, Steve, a lot of people are going to be really happy to hear you’re alive, starting with me, but what just happened?”
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