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spctrsgf · 11 months

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morning banter

summary: something about you and marc? he wakes up early, and you most certainly do not.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: language, my shitty spanish (i’m trying okay)

a/n: took a quick break from b+h for a lil marc spector drabble!!! hope you all enjoy

Es tan temprano para esta mierda, Marc. Jake’s annoyed Spanish drawl smacks into the side of Marc's head. The combination of his drowsy, slow mind and that Marc knew next to no spanish caused the said man’s eyebrows to crinkle. “What the fuck did you just say?” He can barely hear his own voice, but he knows Jake can.

Don’t worry about it.

“Jake.”

Marc. Only Jake would pitch up his name in a high voice: it’s a mimic.

“Hey! I don’t sound like that.”

Yeah you do.

“No, I don’t! Back me up, Steven.”

Don’t bring me into this.

C’mon, Stevie— Jake cuts off abruptly, probably the doing of Steven.

“Jake,” Marc resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just tell me what you said.”

Go to sleep, puta.

“Okay, I know that one,” Marc hisses, toiling you in closer to him. “Rude.”

You deserved it.

“You wanna know what you deserve?”

Oh, yeah, Jake taunts. What’s that?

“A fucking pun–”

His voice goes legato as soon as he senses you moving, causing him to fall silent. You curl tighter into a ball, spiraling the covers more into your fists and tucking them again beneath your chin. Jake, by some miracle, also goes quiet, as if somehow his words could expel themselves out of Marc’s mouth and to your ears.

But, the soft exhales are the only noise you left out, and if you heard them, you didn’t show it. Marc’s shoulders roll back from where they were hunched, surely Steven’s gentle gesture to the position he hadn’t even realized he’d been in.

Would it kill the two of you to just be nice to each other? The Brit muses.

Absolutely. Jake’s response is automatic.

“One hundred percent true.” Marc chimes in.

HAH! Steven ejects the exclamation in triumph. Now I got the two of you agreeing.

“Sure, whatever.”

Only time we agree is when you finesse us into it, hermano.

Marc slides his arm out from where it was wrapped around your waist to give the two a thumbs up in agreement with Jake, reluctantly.

Or, he tried to.

“Noooooo…” You groan groggily, tightening your hold.

Marc freezes. “Baby?”

“Mmmmm?”

“I- I didn’t know you were aware.”

“Well,” you snuggle closer into his chest, his warm embrace. “You ‘n Steven ‘n Jake aren’t exactly quiet when you argue.”

He sighs, guilt pooling in his stomach. “Listen, ‘m sorry. You know how we can be.”

“Yeah, I do. And I love you all,” you reach back, squeezing his bicep reassuringly. “But I also love my beauty sleep.”

“You don’t need to sleep to be beautiful.” He ducks his head to place a featherlight kiss to your neck, savoring the sigh you let out in return.

“You’re sweet, but we both know that’s not true.”

“Do we?”

“Mhm,” you turn, nudging Marc’s arms off of you as you face him. “‘M a menace without it.”

“That’s true,” he chuckles when you slap his arm, letting out an effortlessly beautiful smile. “But it’s nothing a cup of nice, warm coffee can’t solve.”

You giggle softly. “That’s true.”

“C’mon, sleepyhead,” He moves to slide you both out from under the covers. “Let’s get going.”

“Nope.” You let him go, rolling to burrito yourself in the covers again.

“Nope?” He inquires, rounding the bed to stand over you.

“Nope.”

His shadow covers your shut eyelids and you know he’s bent over your face. “I’ll make you coffee to apologize for waking you up, baby, I promise.” You scrunch your nose. “Tempting, but no.”

“Not even because I’m asking you?”

“Not even if you were on your knees and begging.”

“Oh?” The sentence your half asleep brain had kindled clearly took him by surprise.

You huff, flipping over in the bed dramatically. “Go away, I’m tired.”

“What’s so great about this bed that I can’t give you, huh?”

“Well,” You take a deep breath, and some small, rational part of your brain tells you that maybe the spew of words about to come out of your mouth is what he wanted to happen all along. “The bed is warm. It’s cozy. The covers are just the right heaviness and just the right thickness to provide optimal warmth and the right amount of pressure to keep me sleeping like a bear in hibernation. ‘Nd my pillow is the right firmness, but has my desired amount of sink to put me out as soon as you turn off the light and wrap your arms around me. Even though that only happens sometimes.”

Marc huffs in frustration. “Hey!”

“Yeah, Marc, my bed is always here on time. It never goes anywhere, and the only life it’s saving is your sorry ass right now.”

“Uncalled for.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“Thought you liked a bit of banter.”

“I like a kick or two,” He leans over and pulls your shoulders to level on the bed and your eyes to meet his own. “But not at eight in the fucking morning.”

“Neither do I,” You reach up, pulling his face in for a kiss.

He gives in almost immediately, setting a knee on either side of your legs and scooping his arms underneath your body to pull you up.

“Nuh uh,” you pull away and unwrap his arms, flopping back onto the bed. “Sleepy. Time to sleep.”

“You can't leave me hanging like that!”

You yawn, pulling the covers up to your chin again. “I can and I did.”

For a second, a naive, small second, you think he’s going to leave you be. Your brain relaxes, you feel yourself on the precipice of sleep, the hypnotic, rich swirl of unconsciousness sucking you deeper into its whirlpool. But then you feel the covers lift, and Marc’s— frighteningly cold— fingers are dancing along your sides to a tune you illustrate with laughs. You slap his hands away, reaching out towards the lure of sleep that now sneaks away to taint another victim.

“You ready to get out of bed now, sweets?”

You groan, turning to face him in defeat. “You fucker.”

He throws his arms mockingly. “What’d I do?”

“You manipulated me! I hate you.”

“I did no such thing. What are these accusations?”

“You knew I would get worked up,” you sit up in the bed now, and Marc shrinks ever so slightly under the weight of your deadly stare. “You knew that would wake me up.”

“Hey, let’s calm down–”

“You knew that if you pushed the right buttons, you would get what you wanted.”

Marc’s face is ghastly, and he looks two steps away from summoning his suit and flying away.

“I warned you earlier about this, Marc, were you listening?”

He nods frantically. “Of course–”

“I’m a menace when I get woken up early.” You launch off the bed, and you might as well be Moon Knight yourself with your accuracy.

The takeaway from this event? For Marc, it’s to never try waking you up before you’ve recharged fully, or to have some coffee made ahead of when he was to attempt it. For you, though?

It’s that Marc shrieks like a little girl.

translations (HELP I FORGOT):

es tan temprano para esta mierda - it’s too early for this shit

puta - bitch

i felt very fancy using these

#moon knight #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #steven grant imagine #jake lockley imagine #moon knight tv #marvel #marc spector fluff #marc spector x you #oscar issac #oscar isaac hernandez estrada #oscar issac x reader

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lexosaurus · 11 months

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Ok, listen. I know, I KNOW that "Phantom Planet's Not Canon Fuck You." Okay?

But just. Hear me out for a second.

Do Halfas Need To Breathe In Ghost Form?

Okay so this is a really lowkeye "debate" (I say that in quotes because it's more just that people have different headcanons and tbh this is the best way anyway because, you know, fuck canon death of the author and all) as to whether or not Danny needs to breathe in halfa form. And while I, like most people, just sorta decide whether or not he needs to breathe based on whatever my fanfic plot needs, I actually think, canonically at least, there is some solid evidence that no, actually, they don't need to breathe in ghost form.

There's a few times in canon where Vlad is choking Danny mid-fight and Danny looks more mildly annoyed than seriously panicked about it, but you can largely chalk that up to Kid's TV Screening Filters, so I don't put much weight on those.

However, there are some moment that sticks out more than the rest. And that's when Danny and Vlad are in space.

Yeah, uh, I'm talking about Phantom Planet.

(I'm sorry)

So initially, both Danny and Vlad are shown to be wearing helmets that presumably have oxygen filtering through them. Now now, I know what you're thinking: Lexx, wouldn't this mean that they do need to breathe in ghost form?

My theory isn't that they can't breathe in ghost form, my theory is that they don't need to breathe in ghost form. There's a difference.

I also think that they probably don't exactly want to test the theory if they have to breathe or now. Better safe than sorry, so let's wear helmets!

(Also, side note, this furthers the other lowkeye "debate" as to whether or not they get seriously cold in their ghost forms because, uh, they're in space with no spacesuit)

But I digress. Here they are shown with helmets, suggesting that they do have some breathing capabilities, even in ghost form.

But at the end of the episode, we see Vlad here chilling on a space rock, no helmet in sight, looking perfectly fine albeit disappointed and bored.

This, obviously, suggests that halfas do not need to breathe in ghost form. And I think Vlad literally just discovered that as soon as he was ejected to space sans helmet.

So my theory is, while Danny and Vlad have the organs required for breathing and do breathe as a reflex automatically, when put in situations like outer space where oxygen is not available, their ghost half takes over a little more and they stop breathing. I think this is such an automatic thing that when this change happens in day to day life (like Danny being choked by Vlad mid ghost-fight), that like how us humans don't actively think about breathing, we just kinda do it, they don't really notice it either.

So that's my theory. I'm so sorry for needing to cite Phantom Planet here. I'm sure there's other things you can pull from canon too, but this was just the most obvious. Again, headcanons ftw, okay peace out ✌️

#danny phantom #canon analysis #ghost lore

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blueberrypancakesworld · 5 months

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My Angel - Submissive Coriolanus Snow

warning : o sex (m reciving), no use of Y/n, fem reader

They both knew that the door was locked so that no one could enter the lecture hall. But she knew that his bright eyes kept going back to the large double doors. It was his thoughts that kept him from intimacy.

Her fingers stroked through his light soft hair and he looked back at her. ,,My angel," his girlfriend murmured and pulled him into a deep kiss, feeling his tension melt away as he leaned back in the professor's chair.

The red trousers of his school uniform were off and only the light blue shirt and the pretty red skirt were on his body. He liked the nickname, she knew it flattered him.

Her other hand traveled down his torso, feeling his light muscles under the soft fabric of the shirt before tracing small circles on his thighs. ,,Shall we... really," the blond handsome mumbled, still unsure if it would mean his ejection.

But they both knew that with their money, they could settle anything. Yet it was he who had suggested this little game. His girlfriend just wanted to do him some good after he had learned so much.

Engaging him in another kiss, she signaled to him that this was exactly what she wanted and that it was fine. ,,You deserve it my snowflake," she whispered to him and her hand, which was resting on his thigh, moved to his middle.

She smirked, feeling that he was already slightly hard and the evasive look let her know that he felt the same. ,,Just relax," she murmured and moved down from his lap onto the floor in front of him.

Pushing up the red skirt, she squeezed his hand lightly and told him to hold it lightly in case he wanted to see her.

She knew he liked it when he could see her in all her intimate moments, he wanted to see her lust. While she wanted him to see her angel blossom.

She ran her fingers over the bulge in his underwear a few times and heard the soft sigh as he began to lean back in the chair.

The leather of the chair held him and made him comfortable. ,,That's it," she whispered to him and pulled down his white shorts knowing that when she looked up Snow would have his eyes closed. Putting her hand around his hardened shaft she gave him a few thrusts.

She felt his hips automatically try to match her rhythm. ,,Someone is impatient," she realized with amusement and looked up at him, seeing the rosy cheeks flushed with shame and excitement. Coriolanus looked so pretty, she didn't call him an angel for nothing.

Before she ran her tongue over his length he almost made a surprised noise and his hand tightened on the arm of the chair. She repeated the movement a few times before she slowly began to take his length into her mouth.

She felt his hips move again, the slight choking sound coming from her as she got used to his length too quickly. ,,S-Sorry is...only so good," she heard him mumble as his hand caught tighter in the fabric of the skirt and gripped the backrest. But a small chuckle came over her lips, she loved seeing him like this.

Apologetic pink cheeks and slightly tangled hair. It was beautiful. She ran her hands soothingly over his thighs, leaving light kisses on them that made him whimper.

He's so sensitive, she thought as she took his member back into her mouth, finding a rhythm that didn't make her jaw ache. He relinquished control and she knew he wanted more knew her rhythm was too little.

Which is why shortly after she heard the first whimper, her eyes looked up at him and she felt the tingling in her belly. His cheeks darkened a shade and his eyes tried to focus on one spot as light tears began to form.

She wrapped one hand around his cock while the other remained on his thigh. She could already feel him tensing slightly again, the lust had clouded his mind and the thought of someone discovering her was long forgotten.

She sucked in her cheeks every now and then and he couldn't hold back his moans as they faded into the large room and she continued. ,,Mhh-fucking good," he mumbled, his hips continuing to move, the slightly stifled sounds and his moans echoing in the room.

She tasted the first drops of pleasure on her tongue and knew he was getting closer to orgasm, his muscles tensing and relaxing. She tried to take him a little deeper, running her hand firmly and lightly over his cock.

He drew in his breath as his hand leaned off the chair and into her hair. He guided her lightly as he wanted it, only for her to push it back onto the backrest with her free hand.

She let go of him for a moment, hearing his almost pathetic whimper as she reminded him that she was the one controlling him. His mumbled apology was interrupted by tears and a near yelp as she took him in her mouth again.

She felt the movement of his hips become more erratic, his noises increased and the twitching of his cock. ,,I dear...I please-need to" he begged she knew what he wanted to say she took his length one last time and his throaty moans went through the room.

She tried as best she could to swallow it all and slowly pull away from him. She heard his heavy breathing and his eyes closed, but she couldn't stop herself from smiling. Even now, he was the image of an angel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas #tom blyth

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astrophileous · 6 months

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ANYTHING with jealous Reid <33333

HI ANON ty for the request! I hope you'll like this one 🥰❤️

Warning(s): gn!reader, profanities, jealous spencer, that's it rlly this is mainly just fluff 💞

This blurb has a part two.

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Supernovae had always been known for their extremely high temperature. Nearing the end of its life, a mature star would go through an explosion so stupendous, it would eject almost the entirety of its mass. During this stage of a star's life cycle, the core temperature of a star could potentially rise to be in the billions of degrees Fahrenheit, making it appropriate for a supernova to be credited as the hottest object ever known in the vast universe.

But as Spencer sat on the chair behind his desk, his fingers tapping impatiently on the surface, he was certain that not even the temperature of a supernova could rival the heat rising steadily inside his chest.

The flame raged unlike anything he had ever known. It flourished with every second Spencer spent staring at you from across the room. You were laughing at something your present company had said, and Spencer instinctively gripped the arm rest of his chair as the fire in his ribcage roared even wilder.

Spencer was on the edge of his seat, ready to prowl at any second, when a presence unexpectedly slid right next to him.

"What are you doing?" Emily Prentiss asked, perching herself on the edge of Spencer's desk without a care in the world.

"Nothing," the young man answered distractedly. "Can I help you?"

"I was wondering if you still had those ginger candies you shared with me last week?" Emily wondered as she began to rummage through his drawers. "Where do you keep it?"

Silently, Spencer opened his bottom drawer, pulling out a tin box where he stored the sweets Emily was looking for.

"You're an angel on earth, Dr. Reid." Emily grinned, popping a candy into her mouth. "Are you okay, by the way?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you've been throwing daggers at (Y/N) and Anderson for the past three minutes."

"I have not."

"Yes, you have."

"You're mistaken. Maybe you were just seeing things."

"Reid, you're literally glaring at them right now as we speak." At Emily's observation, Spencer begrudgingly tore his gaze away from the two people across the room. "Wanna tell me what's going on?"

"Nothing's going on. I told you," Spencer insisted, his eyes once again returning towards the pair on the other side of the bullpen. "Hey, do you know how (Y/N) and Anderson became close like that?"

"Haven't they always been friendly?"

"Friendly? Yes. But not like... that." Spencer pressed his lips, trying to contain the scowl when he saw you grip Anderson's forearm as you beamed at the other agent. "Since when does (Y/N) laugh like that with him?"

Emily flicked her eyes repeatedly between yours and Spencer's face. A smirk emerged on her lips when understanding finally dawned on her. "Oh my God, you're jealous."

Spencer didn't think he ever whipped his head so fast in his entire life.

"You're jealous of Anderson. Holy shit, that makes so much sense! You're actually jealous."

"What are you talking about? I'm not—I'm not jealous!"

"Of course you are. Why else would you get so hostile at the mere sight of those two talking?"

"I was just... asking a question. I wanted to know why they suddenly seemed so close, that's all."

"Of course you did."

"I'm telling the truth!"

"Right. Of course you are." Emily snickered. She got up from his desk and started walking away, all the while belting out a ridiculously jesty song she obviously just made up, "Spencer is jealous. J-E-A-L-O-U-S! Spencer is jealous. J-E-A-L-O-U-S!"

The young Doctor frowned at Emily's teasing. He glanced towards where you had been standing only to see you sauntering towards his direction. Spencer automatically busied himself with the random papers on his desk, acting as if he had only noticed your presence as you sat down on your desk right across from his.

"Working hard, Doctor?" you quipped jubilantly, rearranging the case files on your desk as you hummed an unfamiliar tune under your breath.

"Something like that," Spencer replied, closing the documents he wasn't even reading as his full attention landed on you. "What did Anderson want?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing. He was just asking if I was free this weekend, that's all."

Spencer unwittingly clenched his jaw at your reply. "What's this weekend?"

"A cricket game. Apparently, Grant has always been a big fan, so he was very excited when I told him I used to play back in college. Too bad I can't come to the game, though. I promised my mom I would visit her this weekend."

Spencer could merely nod at your explanation, pretending like his brain hadn't short-circuited when you referred to Agent Anderson with his first name. The fog in his head only started to dissipate when Derek called for the two of you from the bullpen doors, asking if any of you would like to join him for lunch.

"You coming, Doctor Reid?" you asked as you stood up from the chair, pocketing your phone and wallet in the process.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. I'll be right there. You guys just go ahead."

You flashed him one last bright smile before skipping all the way towards where Derek was waiting. A sense of calm washed over him when he saw you glancing back, offering a small wave in his direction. Spencer could feel the smile blooming on his face before it was soon chased away by the sight of Anderson standing by the door, holding it open as you laughed gratefully at him.

Fuck it.

It looked like Emily was right after all.

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multiverse-sparkles · 1 year

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Loving him was never enough — B. Barnes.

summary: you allow yourself to feel the loss and the hurt of his betrayal— but after this, you promise yourself; no more. this time, you leave bucky barnes. this time, you put yourself first.

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: cheating, ANGST, more angst, allusions to pregnancy, cursing.

part 2 to this

the party was in full swing downstairs; another celebration for a reason you no longer bothered to remember. from the third year of your marriage, banquets and gatherings were a part of your week, either with your husband's business associates or simply just friends getting together for the sake of appearances, it was a chore itself to try and keep up with the latest reason for a celebration of such caliber.

yet you have always played your part well; smiling, cheering, and raising toast when needed be. you've also perfected the charade of a loving husband and wife, sharing ocassional whispers and laughter, perhaps even a lingering kiss; and sometimes, they were welcomed. sometimes, you do feel the tenderness as he gazes at you. you feel the butterflies whenever he would whisper something cheesy on your ears. even the touch of his lips upon yours were enough to renew hope, until, come another day.

but recently, you've only ever been feeling the heavy weight of dread on the pit of your stomach. something ominous, something akin to resentment ; an emotion you've never entertained, despite his numerous indescretions. his blatant disregard for the sanctity of your marriage has finally caught up with you.

bucky finally exhausted your love.

because as you stared at him, in his act of something so sinful, molding his body with another woman, fucking into her with wild abandon; it was like a bucket of cold water has drenched you.

you were suddenly all too aware of your surroundings, and your grip on the knob loosened, only enough to close the door back again.

the frames rattled, the occupants of the bed stilled, and only the patter of drifting footsteps filled the silence.

the same time bucky's blood ran cold in his veins.

you slept in what felt like, the best ten fucking hours of rest; awaking with the bright sun peaking from the spaces of the curtain, even the birds chirping happily, and for the first time in a really long time, you woke up with a contented sigh.

you were back in your old home, it's much smaller in size, and comparatively less luxurious than the estate you lived in, but it was home. and it was yours. something that could never be tethered to the man you called your husband.

automatically, you checked your phone for emails; several missed calls and text messages from bucky himself were what welcomed you, yet you opted to ignore them, instead checking in with your close friend and one of new york's finest; andy barber.

barber: will you be free to come to the office at around ten? i can discuss your options, and we'll have to go through the paperwork to sort out whatever you need to do.

barber: also, while we're at it; i'm proud of you.

for what felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than ten minutes, you thought back to your back and forth correspondence the night prior— thinking, had you really made the decision to leave him? was it real this time?

could you live without him?

you'd pondered about the prospect most of your marriage, ultimately coming to a conclusion that it was difficult to eject james out of your system. he was your entire world and existing without him was a thought that couldn't even exist in your orbit. and ultimately; can you really live the rest of your life, chained to a man so warped up in his own selfishness without making the effort to actually consider what you may be feeling?

can you continously gaslight yourself into thinking that he loved you; in his own, twisted way. that he was only so weak of a man to deny the temptations and wants of his flesh— were you not so tired, and broken down by his false promises, that you ache, deep in your soul.

when will you realize that the only person who deserves unlimited forgiveness was yourself, and not the man who promised you forever; but stomped and ran over the tattered pieces of your heart.

your hand touched upon your stomach, a protective instinct blaring noisily in your head; you have not only yourself to think about now.

years of trying had not once bore to fruiton until now— you wipe the hot tears streaming down your face, a sob echoing in the stilness of the room. why was your love so cruel to you? why was it that you had let things go this far with a person such as james?

you cry out. torn and heart wrenching cries as you let yourself feel the years of betrayal, and heartache, promising yourself that this will be the last.

soon.. you hope; soon, you will no longer cry for him.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes

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noneorother · 4 months

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Furfur has two photos because he has two cameras

The madness continues I guess? This is Fufur's camera(S) from the x-ray content on Amazon prime. They said it actually worked on the day, which is a little crazy for a few reasons... most notable of which, is that this is not one camera. It's two cameras.

The bottom one is a heavily modified 70's sx-70, probably with a front that has been covered in black pebble grain leather to hide the viewfinder and logos in the front. It's also upside-down, so that the polaroid comes out the top of the camera. I've drawn the shape hidden inside the steampunk accessories

That photo that comes out during this shot is from the sx-70 with the Mirage 28mm macro lens attached to it (lol wtf. That is extremely funny if you know anything about photography). The second camera is an original 1948 95 model land camera in black. These were originally portait or vertical, aned flipped out with a stand as the cover. Here they've added a barrel lens and taken the front cover stand off.

They've also combined the viewfinders to be up top beside the flash. These older models didn't have an automatic film ejection. You had to rip the film out of the back after opening it. The film was also slightly different sizes than the polaroid you've probably seen before. See below.

The one is Furfur's camera ejection is wider than the smaller, more close up shot in Crowley's hand later in the dressing room. Because the images tracked on to the film in the theatre were 100% done in post (no polaroid film develops that fast), it could just be a small inconsistency. It would make sense. But why go through all the trouble to build a double polaroid camera for Furfur to use? And if there are two polaroids, where's the other one? And why does Furfur not seem to have it?.

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Thanks to @kimberleyjean @thebluestgreen and @embracing-the-ineffable as always.

#good omens meta #good omens 2 #art director talks good omens #go season 2 #good omens season two #go meta #good omens season 2 #furfur #good omens #good omens analysis

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topguncortez · 7 months

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Truth Hurts || Whumptober Day 1 - J. Seresin

whumtpober masterlist || whumptober taglist form

synopsis: You never imagined sharing your deepest darkest secrets in front of two monsters and your best friend. Loosely based on the book “Still Beating” by Jennifer Hartmann.

@ailesswhumptober whump prompt: drugging @ailesswhumptober

word count: 4.5k

warnings: kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse, physical abuse, mentions of miscarriage, murder, character death, truth serum, drugging, forced proximity.

You liked to think that when you were to die, it would happen quickly.

A car accident, a gunshot wound, a failed ejection, ingesting too many sleeping pills.

You wanted it fast. You didn’t want to suffer. You didn’t want your death to be one that would be talked about twenty years from now and people’s eyes would automatically fill with tears when it was spoken about. You didn’t want to meet the same fate as your husband, Bradley, had met nearly a year ago.

It’s funny how things don’t seem to work in your favor.

Six days. Six long, excruciating days of pain, starvation, and abuse. That’s how long you had been locked in this dungeon of horrors, alongside your best friend, Jake. You always thought that these sorts of things only happen in the movies. You didn’t think that you would be dumb enough to fall for a woman on the side of the road who claimed her baby was choking. You didn’t think that you would be dumb enough to make Jake stop the car so you could run out and go help her. You also didn’t think Jake was dumb enough to get out of the car and try to rescue you from the man dressed head to toe in black who held your passive body.

But, here you were. Chained like animals in some psycho couple’s basement, waiting for them to come down and do whatever horrible things they had on the dockette for the day.

“They’re probably sending out a search party,” Jake said, from across the room in his own cage. Whoever had taken you had done this before. They had a whole set-up down here with chains and cages that resembled jail cells. You looked over at Jake, giving him the same glare you had been giving him every day since day one. He, somehow, was hanging onto his optimism, while yours had left almost instantly.

That’s how Jake has always been. He’s always been this bright light in your life, and you should appreciate it. You really wish that you could appreciate it, but something had died inside you a year ago when you had buried Bradley. You weren’t the same happy-go-lucky girl who grew up with an amazing family and got to do the coolest job in the world alongside her husband and her childhood best friend. Instead, you were just the shell of the person you once were.

“I-I know they are. I know they would have the best-”

“Jake,” You sighed, closing your eyes. He knew better than to continue on. He had never been on the receiving end of your anger before being trapped down here. You could be volatile, and spit venom when you needed to. You had already apologized profusely for the words that you had said to Jake after what was now probably the worst day of your life, but Jake forgave you.

The silence between you stretched on for a moment, the only sound being the steady tapping of dripping water from the leaky faucet in the corner of the basement. You had never been so envious of concrete before.

“Do you miss him?” Jake asked quietly. You turned your head over to him, raising your eyebrows in a silent way to tell him to elaborate, “Bradley.”

Your eyes went from Jake’s forrest green ones, down to your dirty feet.

Of course, you missed Bradley.

You missed everything about him.

You missed his laugh. His horrible dad jokes. His honey-brown eyes. His loud, off-key singing. His sunkissed, warm skin. His awful dancing. His soft and sweet kisses. Hell, you even missed yelling at him about leaving the toilet seat up.

But most of all, you missed his strong, comforting hugs that could make a grown man cry. Bradley Bradshaw had always felt like home to you, and you missed your home.

“Every single day,” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke.

Every single day, you wished that you could turn back the clock. That you could’ve been the one who was at home that night. The detective told you that it was a “home invasion gone wrong”. A horrible case of wrong place, wrong time. But you always believed that there was more to it. That the detective with the large belly and graying hair just wanted to move on to a bigger, worse case than this. You had pushed and pushed them to look at the case just a little bit more.

“Sweetheart, no one would want to kill one of America’s finest. The case is closed. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

But he wasn’t in the wrong place at the wrong time. You found his body in the kitchen of your shared home. Those words bounced around in your head on the darkest nights, as you sat on the ground in the room that was supposed to be a nursery. Bradley had been so excited about starting a family with you. The way his eyes lit up every single time he’d see a baby on the street or would look at baby clothes at Target. All you had wanted was to be able to give him the child he longed for.

“I was going to tell him,” You said, leaning your head back against the cold cement wall. Jake looked up at you. Your face was dirty, and the grime of being without a shower for nearly a week starting to show. Your eyes, the ones Jake used to think resembled the earth, were dark. Your hair was limp and greasy around your shoulders, “I was going to tell him that I. . . That I was pregnant, that night.”

Jake sucked in a breath and looked down at the ground. He had been with you, cramped in a small bathroom at the post exchange on base as you took the pregnancy test. You had been so happy, he swore he had never seen a brighter smile on your face before. Jake held you tightly as you cried tears of joy, and immediately called your mom to tell her.

Jake had also been by your side, picking you up off the ground as blood ran down your thighs, just a mere days after Bradley’s death. He never wanted to hear the sounds of pure anguish again. The sound of your wails as you stood in the kitchen, haunted Jake at night. The sight of all the blood made him sick, and the scent of copper was forever engrained into his mind.

“He would’ve been so excited,” Jake said, looking up at you.

“I imagine it was a girl. He was always meant to be a girl dad.”

Bradley had a small pocketbook that he would keep with him, jotting down names that would come to him throughout the day that he liked. They ranged from names of famous rockstars to biblical names.

‘What do you mean Jebbidiah isn’t a good name?’

‘Jeb Bush. . .’

‘You got a point.”

You chuckled at the memory, shaking your head lightly. You and Bradley had narrowed his list of nearly a hundred names down to at least two, one for a boy and one for a girl.

“Lennon,” You smiled, “Lennon Dhani Bradshaw. Dhani, spelled like how George named his son. You know how much I love-”

“The Beatles, I know,” Jake nodded.

You gave him a quick glance and then went back to your little glimpse of happiness, “My favorite song was-”

“Here Comes the Sun and In My Life, I know,” Jake said again.

The silence stretched back over the two of you. You used to mind the silence between you and Jake. Before, it was that comforting silence that signified the strong bond between the two of you. You used to be able to sit in the same room, on opposite ends of the couch, reading books or scrolling through your phones, neither one feeling the need to fill the air with conversation.

Now, you feared the silence.

You let out a sigh, before going to speak, “Jake, I-”

The sound of the large door at the top of the stairs cut you off. The sick feeling of dread filled your body, as thudding footsteps made their way down the crikey wooden stairs. Your body started to tremble as your kidnappers came down for their daily routine.

Bonnie and Earl, are two odd, sick ducks that somehow, some way met each other and fell in love. Bonnie had gone on and on the first night, while Earl acted out his vile assaults on you, about their “love” story. Apparently, it was love at first sight, and the two got married within a month of knowing each other. They also kidnapped their first couple within that same month.

“Rise and shine!” Bonnie’s chipper voice sounded out like nails on a chalkboard. Your throat felt tight as Earl’s eyes locked directly on you. Bonnie walked over to you, grabbing your chin with her cold, dainty hand, “Are you ready, Bunny?”

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked in her cold blue irises. After the first night, you had hoped to maybe reach out to Bonnie, to break through to her and get her to let you go. What sane woman would be okay with the monstrosities her husband acted out on women? Apparently, Bonnie.

“Too bad,” Bonnie chuckled, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you up to stand. Earl replaced Bonnie by standing in front of you, his hand already down his pants, jerking himself off. At this point in time, the routine was basically burned into the back of your eyelids.

Earl takes Bonnie’s spot. Bonnie undoes Jake’s cuffs. Bonnie sits Jake down in a chair across from you and Earl. Jake hurls insults and threats at the two of them. Earl commits his heinous crimes. Earl and Bonnie leave the two of you alone in complete silence.

You were starting to wonder if it would ever end.

— — —

“You know hanging is the worst way to go?” Jake said, cutting through the silence.

It was day twenty-one, and you had officially lost hope of ever making it out alive. Bonnie and Earl had been feeding you less and less, only a sandwich every two days instead of every day. You made sure that when you brushed your teeth, you took extra gulps of water, savoring the taste of it down your throat.

“You don’t die instantly,” Jake continued, “You struggle, your lungs aching for air, you know what’s going on until the moment your neck snaps.”

You looked over at him, seeing the dull look in his eyes as he stared off into space. You knew Jake started to come to terms with your current state. It made your heart ache to hear and see the optimism slip from his body. You weren’t sure when it happened, probably after day fourteen.

Day Fourteen.

The second worst day of your life.

First, was losing Bradley.

Second, was watching as your friend stood defenseless and was forced to commit an act he’d rather take a bullet for.

You had hardly ever seen Jake cry, but as he stood in front of you, emptying himself in you, he had broken down, whispering apologies into your dirty skin. His light green eyes had grown dark and dull as he was dragged away from you, leaving you cold and broken. Jake had refused to even look at you, turning his body to face away. You had told him several times throughout the night that you weren’t upset or mad, that you understood what he had to do.

“I’m not mad at you. I understand it, I do. You did it to survive, Jake. I forgive you.”

You thought for sure that you were going to lose Jake after that. He didn’t speak for a whole day. After twenty-four hours in silence, the only sound was the occasional creak of the floorboards and the drips from the leaky pipe. You thought for sure that you would wake up and see Jake’s lifeless body on the floor. But instead, you woke up to his gentle, soft voice, singing.

‘In My Life… I Love You More…’

“I’d say being stabbed to death is worse,” You said softly, “Yes, hanging is awful, but it only lasts a matter of seconds. Being stabbed? Can last for hours. Painful, agonizing hours, where you lie alone in your own blood, and can’t do anything but wait for someone to either find you or for the reaper to take you.”

Jake felt a sudden rush of nausea run through his body at your words. His body felt hot as he looked over at you, sitting on the ground, absent-mindedly moving your foot back and forth over a crack in the cement. You always used to be the one who got sick at even the thought of blood. Now, to hear you talk so frankly about death, made goosebumps arise on Jake’s skin.

“You think he struggled?” Jake whispered.

“He fought back,” You sniffled, “The detective said he defense wounds on his arms. He always said he’d find a way to come home to me.”

Jake could remember sitting in the stale, white-walled room with you as the detective handed you the manila folder that held the official autopsy report. Why you wanted to read it and see the photos of Bradley’s mutilated body, was beyond Jake. It was bad enough that he had to see the blood trail and stained red hands. But you stared at the pictures for hours. The pictures of the man you loved and the house that was now an active crime scene.

The morning faded into day, as the shadows of the sun coming through the basement windows began to move. On day three, Jake taught you how to estimate the time by the position of the shadows on the cement wall. He guessed that the house faced towards the west, and every night as the sun began to set, your hair would have a certain warm glow to it. The two of you were playing your usual game of twenty-one questions, trying to pass the time until the inevitable happened.

You were trying not to think of whatever horror could unfold today. It seemed that on every seventh day, something worse seemed to happen. Day Seven was the first day you were assaulted. Day fourteen was the day Jake was forced to hurt you. And now, you were waiting to see what day twenty-one had in store.

Every time the sound of the basement door would open, a cold shiver would go down your spine, and you pulled your knees up to protect yourself. It was a futile chance at hopefully keeping Earl and Bonnie away from you, but it never worked. There seemed to be some charged energy between the two of them as Bonnie happily skipped down the stairs and stood outside of your cell as if you were an animal at the zoo.

“Today is gonna be great!” She cheered, a sick smile on her face, “I want the girl first, baby. I know she’s got secrets to confess.”

“Anything for you, honey bunny,” Earl cooed at his wife and placed a kiss on her lips. He then turned, digging the keys to your cell out of his pocket, “You must be waiting for today, bunny,” Earl said to you, a sickening smirk on his face. He undid your cuffs like he always did, and led you over to the open space between yours and Jake’s cages. Instead of chaining you up to the post in the middle like he usually would, he sat you down in a chair. He chained your cuffs behind the back of your chair and chained down your ankles.

Earl took a step back, admiring you like you were some type of animal he had just hunted down. You felt bile rising in your throat as he stepped towards you, his disgusting scent invading your senses. He smelled of sweat and blood, and his hands were dirty as he grabbed your chin in his hand, “You’re so beautiful, you know that, bunny?”

You clenched your jaw tightly, keeping your eyes down at the floor, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of looking at him, “I bet that’s why that boy of yours loved you so much.”

You snapped your head up, “What?”

Earl roared with laughter as he let go of your face and took a step back, “That’s what got your attention! Whew, and I was here thinking you were an idiot.” He wiped a tear from his face, stepping back to you and running a finger down your face, “That boy, what was his name? Bradley, was it? Handsome young man, so sad what you did to him.”

“You know nothing,” You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Everyone will know all, very, very soon, bunny. . . hold still.”

“Wha-Fuck!” You cursed as you felt the pinch of a needle being injected into your neck. Your heart began to race as you looked in terror at Earl and now Bonnie who stood in front of you, “What did you do? What was that!?”

Bonnie giggled and held up a vial in her hand, “Truth Serum. Made it myself!” Earl put his arm proudly around Bonnie, her face resembling a kid who just had sugar for the first time.

“Is that going to kill her?” Jake yelled at Bonnie, who simply shrugged, “Hey! Y/N, look at me!” Jake rattled the chainlink that had been keeping you apart, “What the fuck did you do?!”

It felt like you were being suffocated as you looked over at Jake. Your head began to swim, and your limbs felt like you could hardly hold yourself up anymore. Your body began to feel warm and tingly as a thin layer of sweat started to cover your body. The only thoughts in your head were that this was it. This was the moment in which you were going to die. In this dirty, dingy basement with your kidnappers watching and your best friend trying to fight his way towards you.

Then, everything seemed to change. Every muscle started to contract, making you shiver violently. Every fiber of your being felt like it had been lit on fire, and a small scream left your body at the pain. You were scared your heart was going to explode from the sheer force of it beating in your chest.

“It hurts!” You cried, pulling on your cuffs, “Help! It hurts!”

“It’s working,” Bonnie clapped her hands in excitement, “Ask the question!”

Earl chuckled, holding his wife against his front, “Not yet, sweets. We gotta start off slow. First question, bunny, have you fucked anyone else since your husband?”

The words felt like hot lava trying to escape you, but you fought against them, pushing them down in your body, “No.”

Earl’s eyes narrowed at you, “It’ll feel better if you let the serum do its thing. Keep fighting, and it’ll kill you.”

“I’d rather die,” You grit your teeth, your nails digging into your palms.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I can make that happen,” Earl said, “Now answer the question, have you fucked anyone else since your husband?”

You shook your head, scared that if you were to open your mouth, the truth would come spilling out. You never knew that the words “truth hurts” could be real until you found yourself in utter agony trying to hide the truth. Bonnie had her jaw clenched tightly as she watched you fight off her experiment. You wondered how many other people had been in your position. How many other people tried to fight and ended up dead? Or worse, ended up dead before they even got the chance to fight.

“I love him,” You choked out, “I would never hurt him.”

Jake shook his head, a scoff falling from his lips. Earl looked over his shoulder at him, a smirk forming on his lips, “You know something.” Jake instantly went quiet, not daring to look at you, but his body language was enough of a giveaway. You looked up at Jake, tears in your eyes as you begged him not to say anything. But Bonnie always prided herself on being a problem-solver, and a gasp fell from her lips. She waltzed her way over to Earl and whispered in his ear.

Earl stood up tall as he looked at you with a menacing smile on his face, “You cheated on him, didn’t you,” You groaned in agony, tears streaming down your face as you tried to fight off the effects of the serum. Earl huffed as he pulled the gun out of the waistband of his pants, and pointed it at Jake’s head, “Answer the question you fucking bitch! Or, I’ll blow his brains all over the wall!”

“Y/N. . .” Jake called out softly as you let out a scream.

“I cheated on him!” You admitted. The feeling of sweet relief filled your body, as the words came tumbling out, “It was a mistake! A total and complete, stupid mistake!” You cried, tears and snot running down your face as you looked at Jake, “I-I. . . it was stupid! And I told him, I know we promised no one would know, but I couldn’t lie to him. I felt awful. It was killing me!”

“And he forgave you?” Bonnie asked, letting out a guffaw, “What an idiot!”

“He loved me!” You snapped, pulling on your chains, “He forgave me, and it made us stronger.”

“So you don’t love, puppy over there?” Earl asked, turning to glance at Jake like he was fresh meat.

You clenched your jaw, feeling the painful truth rising up in your chest, but you fought it. Your nails dug into your palms as you shook your head, and you willed your voice to stay calm as you spoke.

“I don’t love him.”

Earl chuckled, walking up to you, and undoing your chains. You fell into a heap in his arms as he helped walk you back to your cell. You felt utter disgust as he ran his hand over your filthy hair, whispering how good you did in your ear, but your eyes never left Jake. His jaw was clenched tightly as Bonnie grabbed him and pulled him over to the same chair you were just chained up to. His green eyes bore into yours as Bonnie injected the same truth serum into his neck.

The serum felt hot as it made its way through Jake’s body, making his nerves tingle. It was a dull ache that he felt and did his best to remain upright on his own two feet. He wondered to himself if you wouldn’t have fought so hard to hide the truth it wouldn’t have caused you so much pain. He could feel his heartbeat start to rise in his chest, and sweat pool on his brow. Taking a deep breath, Jake looked over to Earl and Bonnie;

“Do your worst,” He sneered.

Bonnie shrieked in excitement, “Finally!”

Earl shushed her with a grin on his face, “Since the bitch won’t tell the truth, I guess the puppy will. . . You fucked her, didn’t you?”

“Several times,” Jake’s face was stoic as he answered truthfully. The guilt in your body seemed to weigh you down like cement stones. You hated what you did to Bradley, and the lies that you kept from him, but you couldn’t help your attraction to Jake, “And she loved every moment of it. Even begged me for more.”

“Whew! So she is a slut after all!” Earl looked over at you with that disgusting hunger in his eyes you’ve seen before, “I knew it. So tell me puppy. . . did you feel bad about it? What was it that she said? Oh, did you think it was a mistake?”

Jake clenched his jaw and looked over at you, “Never.”

“And why’s that?” Bonnie asked.

“Cause he was screwing someone else,” Jake admitted.

You gasped, holding your hand to your mouth, “That’s not true.” Bradley would never hurt you the way that you hurt him. He loved you too much to do that and it killed you to know how much you had hurt him.

“It is! I saw him, Y/N!” Jake yelled, “I saw him with that girl at the bar. Do you remember the one he told you was some annoying junior pilot with a crush? He was screwing her,” Jake spat. You shook your head, eyes wide, refusing to believe the words that Jake had just spoken.

“That’s a lie. He would nev-”

“It’s the truth, Y/N. They were doing it everywhere. At work, at the Hard Deck. . . at the house. Remember when he went to Virginia for a week? He went home with her to meet her family.”

“No!” You screamed, “He wouldn’t do that to me!”

“So what did you do?” Bonnie asked. Jake’s eyes bore into yours as he took deep breaths. Bonnie looked between the two of you, before yelling, “Say it!”

“I killed him,” Jake whispered.

“What? What was that?” She instigated, leaning into Jake and holding her hand to her ear.

“I killed him.”

“Louder! I can’t hear-”

“I killed him!” Jake yelled, his eyes never leaving yours, “I. . . I just wanted to scare him, to let him know that I knew what he was doing, and to get him to either come clean to you or stop. I-I don’t know what happened. But he. . . he started fighting back and I just. . . I lost control.”

“It felt great didn’t it?” Bonnie asked, walking over to Jake, putting her hands on his shoulders, and running them down his chest, “You felt that release. That sweet, sweet release,” You wanted to kill her as she placed kisses up and down Jake’s neck. He couldn’t help but flutter his eyes closed at the gentle feel on his skin, “You let out all that pent-up need that someone was depriving you of. It felt like the best orgasm ever, didn’t it?”

Jake looked away from you, guilt swimming in his eyes. You let out an anguishing cry as you collapsed to the ground, sobs racking your body as you dry-heaved. All Jake could do was sit in the chair and watch you. Earl walked over to you and picked up your body as if you weighed nothing. You thrashed in his arms as he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at Jake.

“You’d do it again, wouldn’t you?” Earl asked. Jake was silent as he looked down at the ground. “Answer me!” Jake looked at him, still keeping his mouth quiet. But you knew. By the look on his face, you knew what he was fighting.

“Answer him, Jake,” You said quietly, “You’d kill Bradley again, wouldn’t you?”

Jake couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face as he looked at you, “I would kill anyone who hurt you, sweetheart.”

taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @seitmai @cassiemitchell @topgun-imagines @xoxabs88xox @sarahsmi13s @els-marvelvsp @ohtobeleah

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ladyofpembroke · 1 year

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Idk I don’t think Shiv was actually drinking this episode, you saw her raise her glass to her lips but in the scene with whiskey she never tilts it back enough for the liquid to reach her mouth (at least from the side angle it looked that way). I don’t think we see her with an empty glass either. Just like with the coke how she fumbled with it until Matsson was distracted enough for her to put it down, I think Shiv is very aware of needing to keep up appearances and that saying no to alcohol or drugs with make her seem stand-offish and possibly alert others to her pregnancy which would get her an automatic ejection from the boys club

#succession #succession spoilers #shiv roy

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mellowsadistic · 2 months

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The Magician's Game - Chapter 9

The morning after Katherine’s ejection from the competition, Becky woke up to find her diaper soaked to the brim. It was absolutely drenched with wee-wee, and when she slipped out of bed and got to her feet, it hung so heavily between her legs that she thought the tapes holding it in place might snap. She looked down at the soggy thing in disgust, but the feeling of pee sloshing about in her pants was nothing compared to what happened next. Standing up was all it had taken. Becky’s bowels lurched into life. She barely had time to do more than squeal in shock and dismay before she was doubling over and filling her nappy with yet another enormous, yucky mess. She grunted loudly as she packed her Pampers with poo-poo, feeling the now familiar rush of shame as she automatically compared herself to the stupid little toddlers she had to take care of every day at work. She knew she must look exactly like them, squatting down and making a smelly mess in her own pants.

After she finished pooping herself, Becky burst into tears, as she so often did since her continence had been taken away from her. She mewled and whimpered, stepping from foot to foot almost involuntarily, as if she was trying to get away from the heavily sagging seat of her diaper as it swung between her thighs. She had to win this evil game and get back to normal! Struggling to supress her sobs, she forced herself to waddle out of her room to go and search for the Magician, trying to ignore the mess pressed against her bottom. If she was lucky, he might change her before the other girls got up, and she wouldn’t have to endure their looks of mingled pity and disgust again. Then she could sneak back and get dressed, and the other two might not even know what she’d done in her overnight nappy.

Meanwhile, Abby and Madelyn were both relieved to find that they hadn’t woken up in wet beds again (or in Madelyn’s case a wet nappy). It seemed that their bedwetting episodes had just been a result of the breastmilk they’d been forced to drink the night before last. Abby breathed a sigh of relief as she got up and started to dress. She’d never be able to sleep with another man again if she was stuck pissing herself in her sleep! Her string of bachelors and married men would take one look at her in a night-time diaper and dump her immediately, and Abby depended on their infatuation with her, their gifts and generous allowances, to fund the luxurious lifestyle she’d gotten used to.

Fully dressed in skinny jeans and a tight tank-top, she stepped out of her room at almost the exact same time as Madelyn toddled out of hers, the bulk of her nappy pushing her legs slightly apart. Abby had to supress a laugh at the sight of her oversexed bimbo body crammed into a stupid little girl’s dress, canary yellow this time, with a matching bonnet. She’d actually been nervous of Madelyn at first, but now the empowered feminist lecturer was just some big-titted skank dressed up like a two-year-old. She’d be too busy moaning like a pornstar and jiggling her boobs to be much of a threat in the competition. And Becky was nothing but a big, smelly baby. Sure, Abby herself had peed or pooped her pants every day since the competition had started, but that was different. Becky was actually incontinent. The girl couldn’t even change her own nappies – she was a total freak! Abby almost felt a little sad for her, since she knew that she, Abby, would be the one to win the Magician’s twisted game. She had to. And that meant Becky would be spending the rest of her days squishing around in loaded diapers, begging people for changes. Maybe Madelyn could get a job as a truck-stop whore or something. The two of them headed towards the dining room, Madelyn lagging behind because her new stripper-tits kept putting her off-balance. They didn’t speak to each other as they walked, and when they arrived they found Becky and the Magician already seated at the table, eating their breakfast.

Becky was picking at her food mournfully. She was hungry, but she knew that whatever she ate now was sure to come out not long afterwards, and she’d only just gotten a change. She was sure the Magician wouldn’t be willing to wipe her butt for her again so soon. She doubted he would’ve given her one in the first place if it wasn’t for the way she’d pouted and looked up at him like a tearful little girl. She hated his stupid smirk, and the way his eyes glittered with malice whenever he saw her, or any of them, degrading themselves like that. But she hated sitting around in full nappies even more.

Abby and Madelyn took seats at the table and started helping themselves to breakfast. Madelyn’s new plumped-up, pouty lips were very ill-suited to eating. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to stop making herself look obscene as she tucked into her bowl of fruit. She let out breathy little gasps and moans every time her sensitive lips so much as touched a strawberry, and when she tried to take a bite out of a banana, she felt an uncontrollable compulsion to shove it deep into her mouth. Abby shot her a disparaging look as she let out a loud moan.

Other than that, they ate in silence, until at last the Magician got to his feet, his dark eyes glittering once again. “Now that your cute little tummies are full,” he said, “it’s time for me to announce my third little challenge. You’ll be taking part in an egg hunt! Now I know it’s not Easter at the moment, but I just can’t waste an opportunity to send three pretty little girls toddling around the garden looking for chocolate. I’ll set you loose in the playground behind the house, and your task will be to collect as many chocolate eggs as you can before I announce that time is up. You’ll be trying to find more eggs than your fellow contestants, but you’re not allowed to steal them from each other, is that clear?”

They all nodded.

“What happens to the person who gets the least amount of eggs?” Becky asked nervously.

The Magician grinned. “The loser will get the full adult baby treatment,” he said. “Diapers and incontinence, baby clothes, thumbsucking, messy eating, cribs and naptimes, reduced emotional control, increased immaturity. The works.”

Abby felt a knot of anxiety tighten in her stomach. That sounded like the worst punishment so far by a long way. She glanced at the other girls’ bottoms, Becky’s puffy nappy bulged out from underneath her jeans, and Madelyn’s was hardly covered at all by the ultrashort hem of her frilly little baby dress. She couldn’t wear something like that. Her life would be ruined! Let alone having to suck her thumb and sleep in a crib and lose the ability to act like a mature adult woman!

“Well, there’s no point in wasting time,” the Magician continued. “It’s a beautiful day outside. Perfect for big babies to run around in!”

He led them out of the dining room and through a door they’d never used before. As they walked, Abby glanced again at Becky’s bulbous diapered bottom. Her nappy forced her to waddle almost as badly as Katherine had been doing, but it didn’t seem as though she’d dirtied herself yet. Abby supposed she’d pooped her pants already that morning, the disgusting girl. Abby wrinkled her nose, then she looked up as warm sunlight hit her face. The Magician had taken them outside. A beautiful lawn stretched before them, dotted with numerous flower patches and fantastically trimmed hedges. Taking centre stage was an enormous playground, complete with swings, climbing frame, a set of plastic tunnels, and an elaborate spiralling slide.

Madelyn scowled at the scene, looking utterly ridiculous with her plumped-up lips forming a juvenile pout. Was that monster really going to make them run around on a playground like a group of four-year-olds? She wanted to protest, but she wasn’t sure she trusted herself to open her mouth without moaning. The stupid udders on her chest kept rubbing again her frock, and her pussy was getting wetter and wetter inside her soft, fluffy nappy. “You can’t…” she began to squeak, her voice breathy and high-pitched, but a silly little moan cut her off. “Ooh! You can’t… You can’t make us do dis! We’re not your pwayfings!”

“Don’t take that tone with me, young lady,” the Magician said sternly, raising an eyebrow at Madelyn. “You most certainly are my playthings, and you’re going to do as you’re told. If you keep being fussy, I’ll have no choice but to tug you over my knee and turn your naughty tushy bright red. Is that what you want, Maddy?”

Madelyn whimpered and did a little tinkle in her nappy out of fear. Her face reddened. Had the Magician given her bimbo body a weak bladder too?!

Becky and Abby were given ridiculous frilly bonnets to match the one Madelyn was wearing, pale blue for Becky and pink for Abby. “To keep the sun off your pretty little heads,” the Magician explained as he fastened them beneath their chins. Then he stood back to admire the effect, smirking. “Such pretty babies!” he cooed. “Who’s ready to show Daddy how many eggs she can find?” All three women were glaring at him, but their obvious displeasure only seemed to make him happier. “Alright, little ones,” he said, handing each of them a little wicker basket to put their eggs in. “Time to begin. And remember what will happens to the girl who finds the fewest eggs.” He grinned wickedly. “Off you go!”

They hurried off towards the playground. Abby ran fastest, as she was the only one not taped into a bulky disposable diaper, and she reached the playground first. She immediately grabbed a shiny green foil-covered egg from the base of the climbing frame and popped it into her basket, feeling elated. She was going to win this! There was no way she was going to let herself be turned into some absurd adult-sized baby. And she definitely couldn’t let herself be voted out. She thought of all the other punishments the Magician had inflicted so far. A daycare worker who hated nappies stripped of her potty training and forced to wear them full-time. A girl desperate to escape her tyrannical mother sent back to live with her and made to obey her every command. A proud feminist lecturer turned into a busty bimbo in baby clothes. A fashion model robbed of her ability to dress herself and forced to wear ridiculous toddler outfits. It was pretty clear the Magician enjoyed inflicting their very worst nightmares onto them. Abby shivered. What would he do to her if she lost?

She still had her backup plan, she reminded herself. She’d never yet met a man who’d been able to resist her charms, not when she really wanted to seduce them, and for all his otherworldly powers, the Magician was clearly still a man with a sex drive – even if it was a horribly twisted, nightmarish one, it was still something to work with. But if she could just win the competition, that would be much safer.

Madelyn’s brain became a ditzy fog as she ran across the grass, her tits bouncing about wildly inside her dress and sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body and into her nether regions. She focused as hard as she could. Eggs. She had to find eggs. She couldn’t lay down and start rubbing her tingling pussy. She couldn’t just sit on the grass and play with herself, imagining a man bending her over a bed and thrusting himself deep inside her, taking what was his… No! Focus. Focus…

She toddled over to the swings, already panting a little in the heat of the sun. Her formerly tight, athletic figure was no more. Her new body was soft and curvy, poorly suited for anything other than decoration and sex. She inspected the seats of the swings and felt her heart leap when she saw a blue egg sitting in one. She snatched it up and dropped it into her basket. She could still win this. As bad as it was being trapped in baby clothes and a stupid bimbo body, things could get much worse if she lost this round.

Becky was waddling around underneath the slide. Her tummy was starting to feel rumbly, and she couldn’t tell if it was because she was just hungry, or if there was another messy accident on its way. Then she spotted it – a pink, foil-covered egg tucked away at the point where the underside of the slide touched the ground. She bent over and grabbed it, a jubilant smile spreading across her face. But at that moment, her stomach lurched into action once again, and her grin turned into a look of surprise as a yucky load pushed itself into the seat of her nappy, making it bulge out through her jeans. Her mess was followed by a long rush of pee that soaked her diaper so thoroughly it was almost as wet it had been when she’d woken up that morning. Tears welled up in her eyes again, but this time Becky didn’t start wailing. She couldn’t help stomping her foot in frustration, but all that did was make the contents of her nappy shift around unpleasantly. Taking a deep, steadily breath (trying to ignore the smell of her stinky pants as she did so), she forced herself to calm down. She’d found an egg. She could win this challenge, get through the final one, and wish herself back to normal. She hadn’t given much thought to what else she might wish for. At this point, she wanted nothing more than to be a regular young woman again, one who’d never have to see another dirty diaper for as long as she lived. Her resolve steeled, she went back to hunting for eggs.

The three girls continued to hurry around the playground and the surrounding flower beds, occasionally finding an egg to add to their growing collections, and spying on the others’ baskets whenever they passed to see who’d gotten more.

Abby clambered up to the top of the slide, and froze. There was an egg, golden-wrapped and shining brightly in the sun – but Madelyn had got there first! She was standing over it, reaching down with one hand and groping her chest through the front of her baby-doll dress with the other. Her basket was on the floor next to her, and Abby felt a thrill of fear when she was what was inside. Madelyn had five eggs! And the one in front of her would make six! When she’d last seen Becky, toddling around with an obviously full nappy, she’d had five. Abby herself had five too. This was too close. Far too close. She felt sick when she thought about what losing this stupid egg hunt would mean. It would be even worse than anything either Becky or Madelyn had yet experienced. From the sound of it, the Magician intended to turn the loser into an overgrown baby in almost every way. The Magician had told them they couldn’t steal other people’s eggs… but he couldn’t be omniscient. Could he? At this rate, there was a good chance that Abby might lose. Becky was bound to have found another egg by now, and the Magician could call an end to the game at any moment. While Madelyn was distracted picking up the gold egg and playing with her oversized melons, Abby snuck out a hand and snatched a purple egg from her basket. Then she slipped quietly down the slide. Madelyn was gasping and moaning to herself too loudly to even hear her. Abby reached the bottom and sprinted away towards a row of hedges in case she was seen.

The three girls wandered around for a minute or two more, until the Magician’s voice rang out across the garden. “Alright, little ones!” he called. “Time to come back to Daddy!” And with a snap of his fingers, the three of them appeared suddenly in front of him. “Well,” he said, looking at them with hungry eyes, “I hope you all enjoyed your little egg hunt. Now it’s time to see who’s got the most… and more importantly, who’s got the least.” He grinned horribly, his handsome features twisting in anticipation, and stepped forwards to inspect their baskets. “Let’s see. Five for little Becky. And five for little Maddy too!”

Madelyn looked down in confusion. Five?! She thought she’d found six! Had she somehow miscounted?

“And how many does Abby have…?” the Magician went on. Abby could feel her heart pounding in her chest as he peered into her basket. “One, two, three, four, five, six for little Abby! So, it would appear as though we have two losers today.”

Abby breathed a sigh of relief.

“No!” Madelyn squealed, pulling her thumb out of her mouth desperately. “I had six! I swear! I must have dropped one or something!” She felt her thick, crinkly, but dry diaper rub against her thighs and imagined having to actually use it. Worse, she imagined the Magician getting inside her head, giving her even more babyish behaviours to accompany her thumbsucking.

Becky looked just as horror-struck. “Please!” she begged, tears filling her eyes again. Her lower lip trembled. She didn’t know how long she could keep it together. She thought she might go insane if she had to live like a baby as well as wear nappies like one! “Please don’t!”

“But,” said the Magician firmly, cutting them off, “things aren’t always as they appear.” His eyes moved onto Abby, who felt her blood turn cold. “One of you has been very naughty,” he said, and there was a terrifying happiness in his voice. He tutted. “Such a naughty girl, Abby, stealing one of little Maddy’s eggs!”

Abby felt frozen in place. He knew!

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” said the Magician, not sounding sorry at all, “but Daddy did tell you that stealing is a no-no. I’m afraid I have no choice but to disqualify you from the third challenge. And that makes you the loser.”

Abby could only stare at him, her mouth open, her eyes wide and terrified.

The Magician’s eyes glinted. “Time for someone to get her penalty.”

#mellowsadistic

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foxigemini · 7 months

Text

Comfort

Pairing: Recom!Quaritch x Recom!Female Reader

Synonym: Quaritch comes home after a mission and needs your comfort.

Warnings: Nsfw, Smut, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

"Mmhmm."

You watched as Quaritch slumped down on the armchair, your gaze automatically dropping to his spread legs.

"C'mere, darlin'," he said, patting his thigh. "I need you. Been a rough day."

Biting your lip at the surge of arousal shooting through your core at his voice, you walked over to him and sat down across his muscular thigh. He took your chin between his thumb and index finger, turning your face to him. His yellow eyes looked into yours, his gaze full of hunger as he pulled you closer and pressed his lips against yours. You moaned at the contact, his tongue demanding entrance to your mouth. You gladly gave it, tingles running through your body as his hand slipped underneath your t-shirt. Quaritch pulled you closer to him, deepening the kiss, his arms around your frame and sliding up the side of your hips, his touch rough against your skin. He pulled you in, claiming your mouth deeper, hungry, and intense. He shuddered and there was a sound from the back of his throat, something between half a growl and half a moan that sent a jolt of arousal through your lower belly.

"Take off your clothes for me," he commanded as he pulled away from the kiss, his voice barely a husky mumble.

Meeting his gaze, you stood up at his command, your face flushed with heat as his eyes studied your every movement when you started to undress. He sat there quietly, silently watching you. Your pulse quickened as piece by piece of your clothes fell to the floor and you finally stood there naked before him. Quaritch took your hand and pulled you down across his lap, his mouth engulfing one of your tits. You gasped, moaned as he sucked on your sensitive nipple.

"Oh, Miles...," you exhaled softly and started rubbing your pussy against his thigh. You wanted him, needed him inside you, the erotic contrast of your naked body against his fully clothed one making you tremble in his hands.

Quaritch growled, his hard dick twitching at the feeling of you rubbing against his thigh. He opened his pants without effort, his hand giving your ass a gentle slap, silently ordering you to lift your hips.

"Gonna fuck you real good, princess. Fill your pretty pussy with my cum," Quaritch muttered as he wrapped his hand around his cock and guided it to the wet entrance between your thighs. His other hand grabbed a handful of your ass, lowering you down onto his dick. The head popped in, both of you moaning as you lowered yourself onto him.

"Fuck, Quaritch," you gasped and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You feel so good, baby. So fucking wet and tight..." he rasped as you started moving up and down his cock, your perfect pussy engulfing him so deeply he could feel himself throb and shiver every time the head of his cock pushed against your g-spot.

You let out a soft gasp when Quaritch suddenly lifted you up with ease. Wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, you moaned as he started thrusting up into you, each thrust of his cock sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck!" you moaned at every thrust against that sweet spot deep inside you that he pleasured so perfectly.

"Yeah, you like that, don't you, baby?"

"Yesss," you gasped and wrapped your arms tighter around his thick neck. "Please, fuck me harder, Miles. Make me come all over your big cock."

"Fuck," Quaritch grunted and clenched his jaw as he upped the speed, pounding you like a jackhammer until you both came, his cum ejecting inside your fluttering, clenching pussy.

Gasping for air as your orgasm slowly subsided, you giggled softly and rested your forehead on his shoulder as he slumped back down on the armchair.

"I love you," you said out of breath as you lifted your head and smiled down at him.

"I love you too. And you're mine. Forever," Quaritch hummed as he placed a possessive hand around your throat and ran his thumb across your bottom lip.

Smilingly, you leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "Forever."

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blubushie · 1 year

Text

DEAR ARTISTS

(Cheers to @kreidxpriz for asking this in the replies of my other post!)

Many people don't actually know what a bullet is.

These are not bullets. These are cartridges.

THESE are bullets.

Bullets go into the casing to make a cartridge. Inside the cartridge are what the bullet needs to operate: gunpowder and the primer. The primer pushes inward, strikes one side, and that ignites the gunpowder which explodes and propels the bullet out of the barrel of the firearm.

This is what they look like separate. (Those coloured tips on the bullets are polymer points that assist in cutting through the air which lessens the amount of tumbling and also with penetrating the target. The colour isn't important and is often different depending on who manufactures the bullets.)

That piece on the bottom is calling the casing or shell. That's what ejects from the bolt of a firearm when you cycle it. Some firearms cycle automatically (the automatic family of weapons which includes automatic and semi-automatic, where pulling the trigger will fire a bullet, eject the spent casing, and automatically chamber another round), and some have to be cycled manually (bolt-action rifles, where pulling the trigger ONLY fires the bullet and you have to pull back the bolt to eject the spent casing and allow another round to move into the receiver, then pushing the bolt forward chambers that round).

Why am I explaining this to you? There's different between a bullet and a cartridge. So, dear artists: YOU NEVER PUT A BULLET IN YOUR MOUTH. Many bullets do NOT have metal jackets, meaning the bullet is not fully encased in metal, most commonly copper. The casing is usually brass. Why encase the bullet to start with? Inside the bullet is usually lead. Lead is soft and doesn't penetrate very well, so full metal jackets (FMJs) and total metal jackets (TMJs) are used for better penetration. Because the lead is encased and doesn't "fold," they also have much better trajectory and strike more accurately. Point is, don't put a grey bullet in your mouth unless you want lead poisoning.

Additionally, holding a bullet in your mouth will bugger up something we call ballistics, which is how the bullet travels through the air on its path to its target. Any scratching on the surface or minute dents from your teeth that you can't even see will effect the aerodynamics of the bullet, causing the round to tumble. This throws off accuracy and affects how the bullet strikes.

On that similar note: PEOPLE DO NOT CARVE ANYTHING INTO BULLETS UNLESS IT'S ON THE BASE OF THE BULLET. That's this flat part. (Note that this is a TMJ. An FMJ leaves an exposed bit of lead at the bottom of the bullet.)

The flat part is the ONLY part on a bullet that isn't influenced by aerodynamics, so it's the only "safe" place to carve. That said, it's a small bloody space, so good luck carving anything into that. TMJs are VERY difficult to carve and can only be effectively "scratched." FMJs are easier to carve thanks to their exposed lead, which is a much softer material. VERY rarely you'll see people carving an "X" into the very tip of the bullet so that it fragments better, but this takes time and buggers up the accuracy so it's very uncommon (and when it is seen, it's usually only in handgun-calibre rounds where you're not firing over long distances).

What people DO sometimes do (if they have a real grudge) is scratch into the CASING of the round. Some places even imprint them for mementos. This has no real effect on the round or how it fires, so it's safe to do.

Point here is that people don't hold bullets between their teeth. If they're holding anything, it's the cartridge. When I need to reload quickly, I hold the cartridge between my LIPS with the primer against the flat of my canine tooth or incisors so it doesn't get tapped by accident.

That's all and happy drawing!

As always, if you have any questions feel free to send me an ask!

#art tips #not tf2 but whatever #bushman #blu pew

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whohasthecards · 10 months

Text

Injured and Alone

Jake ejects on a mission for a different deployment and gets injured, and since he's on assignment and his emergency contact is his immediate CO, Mav/Dagger Squad doesnt find out and stuff, and so they lose contact with him for a couple weeks as he recovers and Mav starts to get worried but hangman comes back in contact when Mav said he would do something abt it and he scolds hangman a bit but lets it go and hangman feels smad because Mav or the daggers didn't notice he was gone, the daggers didnt notice he was gone, and they didnt really care and he still has injuries and eventually he still hangs out but with walls, but then Ice founds out in one of the mission reports and mentions it to Mav like how's Jake, is his injuries gone? And Mav is like stitches!????? And goes on to dad Jake.

The stuff I wrote below is like a word vomit mess, I kinda want to add more to it, but here is what I have for now.

---

Jake muttered a curse as he hid behind the trees. His comms were not working properly. He could barely hear anything, and he was pretty sure the enemy was able to get into the comms.

He was stuck on enemy territory, he was grounded, no plane, lacking supplies, he had to get out. He had to march to the nearest base or else he was done for.

He turned on his comms for one last message, “This is Hangman, I’m going dark.” Afterwards he crushed the comms and left covered in dirt as he marched forward.

—

It took days. He fought through the wilderness. Hid from enemy patrol. Eliminated–, fought against other soldiers.

There was so much blood.

—

He woke up to the sound of machines beeping around him, the smell of antiseptic in the air, and the feeling of a dry-fucking throat.

What does a guy gotta do to get some water around here?

He opened up his eyes and saw a button by his bed and slowly inched his hand forward to grab and press it. His limbs felt so heavy, must be the good meds.

But hey, at least he wasn’t handcuffed to the bed. That’s a good sign, right? Meant he wasn’t being a complete incoherent shit head, or that he wasn’t in the enemy’s hands.

Yay, progress.

—

“-- The Navy thanks you for your service Lieutenant Seresin,” Jake snapped back to attention as his current CO filled him in on what happened. The older man was just droning on and on, but his limbs still felt heavy and there was a constant ache in his body. At least he could still lay in his hospital bed. “We’ll do a debrief once you're discharged. However, there is one more thing before I leave, Lieutenant.” The admiral paused as if choosing his words carefully. “It is stated in your file that your emergency contact would automatically be your current CO, which is me at the moment, is there anyone you would like me to contact, son?”

Jake paused and thought back to his last posting with the Dagger Squad. How they started having group hangouts, meals, and sleepovers during their break, continued whenever one or more of them were on leave and hanging around Miramar. He thought about how he had to drag himself up to his apartment and clean his wounds, how that would take forever, and how nice it would be to have someone– No. Most of the Daggers were on deployment last time he checked, the ones who were on leave didn’t deserve to have to deal with him. Mav is a permanent instructor in Top Gun, now, they won’t have time for him.

They were all he had and they deserved better.

“No, sir.”

—

It took more than a week to get himself settled in on his dingy base housing. He was at medical, flew stateside, medical again, and all that fun stuff.

He sighed as he laid down on his freshly made bed. Everything ached, his stitches felt like they were being pulled apart, and he was pretty sure he had a headache coming in. Wonderful.

He decided to open his phone to see what he missed.

He wondered if anyone messaged him.

Not really. It seems like it’s been more than a week since someone actually messaged him. And when they did it was to respond to something he sent to them. The Daggers group chat was going strong though.

He shouldn’t be surprised, they don’t even know the mission he’s been through. They don’t even know he’s back on the west coast.

But by god did it hurt that not even one of them bothered to send something in his more than 2 weeks of radio silence.

(He knew he was being irrational, they were all adults with busy lives. Hell, one of them could have been through something like he just went through and he and the others wouldn’t know. Right?)

—

He hissed as he disinfected his stitches and wounds, slowly wrapping them up in bandages. It’s okay, he’d be faster at doing this in a couple of days.

—

He felt his stomach rumble as he stared at the boiling pot of pasta. He forgot to cook earlier, well he was too tired too, and his stomach was paying for it. Maybe he should have just shelled out money for that pizza. Heck, he forgot to buy some kind of fucking sauce for the damn thing.

He’s usually too stingy to Doordash shit, but with how fatigued he felt every time he had to move, he was considering ordering groceries to be delivered at his front step.

—

While he was curled up in bed, everything was aching, his head feeling light. He felt his phone ping and he opened up the Dagger’s groupchat seeing the group talk about something so fucking stupid.

He couldn’t help himself.

He roasted the shit out of them.

His phone was bombarded with notifications as his squad digitally squawked back in offense.

He smiled and put his phone down, for a minute he felt normal.

—

He wasn’t physically cleared for active duty, or to fly yet. He had to go through PT, training, counseling, evaluations, bla bla bla, the whole nine yards.

It was a pain, he missed being behind a stick. Missed being fast and bursting through the clouds and just watching the sky change colors.

Instead, he had to keep his feet on the ground as he went through fucking paperwork at Top Gun.

He gets surrounded by cocky-ass rookies, but he can’t school them.

It was horrible.

He looked up when he heard a knock at his door. “Hey, kid, heard we got a new Lieutenant coming to assist on base, didn’t think it was you, buddy,” Mav said smiling gently from where he leaned on Hangman’s door frame. “When did you get here?”

Hangman smirked back on the older man, slowly leaning back on his chair as he hid a wince from his stitches pulling. “Today's my third first day back at Top Gun, pops, just doing some paperwork.”

“Surprised you’re not out there flying, scared to lose to these rookies,” Mav teased sitting in front of his desk.

“Please Mav, I’m not like you, I’m here to be a good boy and not steal any multi-millionaire jets,” Hangman smirked. “At the moment at least.” Hangman said, flicking his toothpick to the side.

Maverick huffed out a laugh, “How was your last deployment, kid? I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” Mav said, face turning serious. “Did something-?”

Hangman felt his heart clench, this is what he wanted, right? For the others to care, to notice, but why does it feel so wrong to admit-?

“Nah, Cap, I’m good, too good to be true in fact that I’m back here, now,” Hangman said leaning forward in his desk and giving Mav a disarming wink.

Mav gave him a once over, before sighing and shaking his head as he stood up.

“Come over for dinner on Friday, some of the others are still on deployment or with their families. Heck, Bob, Fanboy, Coyote, and Bradley are on a road trip right now, they left a couple days ago, if they knew you were here they would have waited a while for you to come with them or something,” Mav said.

Jake shrugged, he knew about the road trip. He’s been back stateside for more than a week. His body would kill him if he came, though.

“Nah, it’s fine, pops, they probably already got it planned out, anyways, plus,” Hangman gave Mav a mischievous smile. “I get you all to myself for dinner, isn’t that a treat.”

Mav rolled his eyes as he walked to stand beside Jake’s chair. “Shut up, you brat, you just want to send pictures of my cooking to the squad to make them jealous,” Mav said as he ruffled his hair and slung an arm around the boy’s shoulders to pull him in a side hug. “It’s good to have you back, son.”

Jake turned his head to bury his head on the older man’s stomach for just a minute. “It’s good to be back, pops.”

—

“MmmMMm, this is the best fucking thing I’ve tasted in forever,” Jake groaned as he shovelled another bite of the steak. Mav was surprisingly talented behind the grill, and apparently the best mac and cheese was Ice’s personal recipe.

“I’m glad you like it, kid, make sure to eat your greens too,” Mav said smiling as he handed Jake the serving bowl of salad.

“Come on, Mav, let the boy enjoy his steak, he just came back from deployment,” Ice said grinning as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin.

Mav rolled his eyes upwards, “and people call me the irresponsible one.”

“Well, your Navy track record proceeds you.”

“As if yours is as clean as they think it is.”

“I’m better at not getting caught, also, which one of us actually remembered to do groceries this morning, love?” Ice said smirking and giving Jake a wink, making Jake remember to actually put the steak in his mouth as he watched the two banter.

It was surreal to see his Captain and the COMPACFLT in such a domestic situation.

Mav pouted and looked at Jake, “See what I have to deal with?”

Ice chuckled and gave Mav a small peck on the cheek, “You’re what I have to deal with. Forever.” Mav eyes softened at that as he intertwined their hands on the table.

“My wingman for life.”

Jake decided that he was being too nice and fake gagged, “you both our sickeningly sweet, there ain’t supposed to be anythin’ too sweet' with the steak, but you all decided to add too much sugar that ‘m growin’ cavities.” Jake said, narrowing his eyes at them.

“Too much sugar, hmm?” Ice said, raising a brow as he rested his chin on his fist. “So I suppose you don’t want the carrot cake I baked for dessert?”

Jake frowned, “Hey, hey, hey, I ain’t sayin’ that, carrot cake is good and healthy, I want some.”

Ice grinned wider, “What’s the magic word, Jacob?”

Jake rolled his eyes, “pleeaaaasseeee?” He drew out.

“Ah, ah, ah, no sass, young man,” Mav said, raising a fork at him as he stood up to presumably grab the cake.

Jake crossed his arms, “You can’t talk, Mav.”

“I can talk in my own house, kid. Remember, nobody likes a smartass.”

“Then why did Ice marry you?”

“My dashingly good looks, of course,” Mav said flashing a hollywood type smile as he grabbed the cake from the fridge.

Jake squinted, “I don’t see it.” Ice huffed out a laugh at that one as he started cutting up the cake. Jake perked up as Ice put down a big slice for him.

“Thank you, Admiral Kazansky,” Jake said, shoveling the cake in his mouth.

“What did I say about calling me admiral in my own home, son?”

“Not to do it because it makes you feel old, Ice.”

“Good job, now by the way, how are you Jake? Have your injuries healed nicely, or are they still sore?” Ice asks, for the first time looking at Jake seriously dead in the eye.

Jake froze and he felt ice go down his spine as he paused looking up at Ice wide eyed. He thought he got away with it, but of course, this is fucking Iceman, the commander of the Pacific fleet.

“Injuries? What injuries? Jake?” Mav said looking confused as he looked back and forth between the two.

Ice frowned at Mav, “You didn’t know? He didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what, out with it, you two,” Mav sternly said.

Jake forced himself to give a small chuckle, “It’s nothing, pops, just a bit of a scuffle in my last deployment, nothing serious.”

He was in the sick-bay for more than a week.

Mav narrowed his eyes at Jake, “Uh-huh, does nothing serious cause you to be back stateside when your previous deployment was supposed to end in 3 months?”

Well, Mav didn’t make it this far for being dumb.

Jake poked down on his carrot cake, “I’m fine, pops, it’s nothin’, really.”

“Jacob Seresin, look at me.” Mav ordered, making Jake tense.

“It’s none of ya business, it’s my private file, you don’t need to know shit,” Jake growled, standing up, good mood ruined.

Jake felt his heart thump against his chest. They shouldn’t know, they can’t know. Why can’t they know? Because they’ll see you as weak. No they won’t. Yes, they will. He wanted them to be there, they can’t they won’t, stop being a bother, stop being a whiny--

“Jake, look at me,” Mav ordered again, albeit in a softer manner, Jake slowly met Mav's eyes, again. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I-I don't know," Jake softly admitted.

He wanted them to find out for themselves, but he could have told them himself. He wanted them to be there sooner. And now that they know even though it's late. It was never their job to know, it was Jake’s job to communicate as a fucking adult.

“Do you really believe that we wouldn’t care?”

Jake shrugged in response. None of them noticed he wasn’t responding to messages for a couple of weeks.

Mav gave out a sigh, making Jake shrink on himself. “Is anyone helping you with taking care of your injuries, bud?”

“Nah, I’m good, pops, takes me a while, but I could figure it out on my own,” Jake said, sighing.

“You shouldn’t have too, son, come on, you need to tend to them before you go to bed, right? How about Mav will help you,” Ice said standing up. “I’ll get the first aid kit, Mav go settle Jake in the guest room.”

“That’s not necessary, sir-” Jake started, eyes wide.

“We know, but we want to help you, Jake,” Mav said gently clasping a hand on his shoulder steering him towards the room.

Jake could have fought, but he didn’t want to. He just nodded as they walked towards the room.

Mav made him sit down on the edge of the bed and ordered him to strip down to show the stitches, and Jake, too tired to argue just silently complied, unbuttoning his shirt to unveil the bandages wrapped around his torso and the patches of bruises scattered all around.

He looked up when he heard Mav take a deep inhale of breath, seeing the pity in the old man’s eyes, making him scowl and look away. “I don’t want your pity.”

“I’m worried about you, Jake,” Mav said, softly. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“How’d ya know if I told someone?”

Mav gave him a look.

“My commanding officer is my emergency contact, he was the only one who needed to know,” Jake said, running a hand through his hair. “Shit, I don’t know why I’m here, I can do this on my own–”

“At ease, Lieutenant Seresin.” Ice sternly said as he came in with a very big med kit. “Let’s clean up your wounds first, then we’ll talk, alright?”

“Unless you’re really uncomfortable with us helping you,” Mav said, looking sadly at him. “We’re not gonna force you to do anything, buddy, but it would ease our old hearts to see that you’re okay.” Mav said, forcing a smile that just looked sad.

And didn’t that make Jake’s heart clench.

“Fine,” Jake muttered, shifting forward and started removing his old bandages.

Mav gently took over, asking Jake to put his arms up so that he could get to them easier. Mav slowly removed the bandages, making sure skin wasn’t pulled, maneuvering Jake, so that his boy would be as comfortable as possible.

Ice crouched down in front of Jake and showed him the assortment of antibiotic ointments and creams, Jake nodded in consent, pointing out which ones he usually used. Ice nodded as he pulled them out and slowly moved his hand closer to Jake as he worked in tandem with Mav, both of them treating Jake with so much care.

When he let them help him, he expected it to be painful and much longer than if he had done it. That’s usually what happened anyways when he had to rely on others.

He was wrong.

They were slow, but steady, steady made their actions smooth, efficient, fast.

Ice let Jake lean forward, his forehead resting on the older man’s shoulder as the man quickly ran a hand through his hair before dabbling antibiotic cream to the wounds on his back.

Jake swore he just closed his eyes for one second.

“Buddy? Come on Jake-y, wake up for a bit, then you can go back to sleep, okay,” Mav said gently, nudging his shoulder.

Jake grumbled and felt Ice chuckle as he helped the younger man sit up, again.

“Come on, little prince, hands up, please,” Mav murmured, helping Jake into a big hoodie. “Can you change into sweatpants?”

Jake nodded as he clumsily complied, afterwards he blinked and suddenly Mav and Ice were tucking him in the guest room bed. Someone turned the lights off, and the two older men were saying their goodbyes when Jake tugged on Mav’s shirt.

“Mav? I’m sorry I didn’t tell ya, I-I don’t know why exactly I didn’t,” Jake said frowning looking up with half-lidded eyes. “W-wanted ya’ll to be there, just, hard,” Jake muttered.

He felt the bed dip beside him, a calloused hand cupping his cheek, “It’s okay, little prince, I understand, we’ll talk about it more once you rest up, okay?”

“We’ll be there for you when you wake up, son, and we’ll always be there for you when we can,” Ice said, reaching over to stroke Jake’s hair.

That was enough for Jake to let himself rest.

—--

("I didn't finish my carrot cake," Jake muttered against Mav's chest.

"It's okay, we still have some more, and how about Ice makes you some chocolate cake tomorrow, buddy?" Mav softly said running a hand through Jake's strands, smirking as Ice scowled at him.

“Didn’t you just bitch about how Jacob here needs his greens, and now–”

“Please, Pa?” Jake said looking up. “I mean the carrot cake is delicious and I love it, so if you’re busy, I get it–”

“No, son, I can make the cake, I’ll just have to use my husband for some logistics help, okay?” Ice said, cutting off his rant as he rubbed Jake’s back.

“I-If it’s okay with you and pops, I don’t want to be a bo-”

“You’re not a bother, plus we were already planning on making chocolate cake for a while, you just gave us an excuse to move up our plans, and have an early cheat day,” Mav said, wagging his eyebrows with a wink.

“More like permanent cheat week,” Ice mattered.)

—

(“Put me down as your emergency contact, please.” Mav said as he squeezed Jake tighter, to make sure the boy won’t have to see the tears building in his eyes. “Please, son.”)

—

(Imagine what happens once the Dagger Squad finds out what happened to Jake.)

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #fanfic #mavdad #pete maverick mitchell #top gun #top gun fandom #top gun maverick #tom iceman kazansky #hangman angst #angst #hurt/comfort

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