#having roo's on their own is fine

[roosterforme]

Go Big or Go Home | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Once your husband gets going, it's hard to reel him in again. Now that you've told everyone that you're pregnant, you realize he's always going to go a little over the top for you and the baby. But you let him get away with it, because nothing feels quite as important as the love he has for you.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, slight angst, pregnancy topics

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You sat in a lounge chair on your back patio, sipping some Gatorade in your oversized sunglasses and watching your sweaty husband doing yard work. He started out an hour ago with a shirt on, but he discarded that in favor of showing off his glistening torso for your entertainment. At least that's what you told yourself. 

"Roo! Come take a break!"

Bradley turned and looked at you as he wiped his brow with his forearm. "Sweetheart. No breaks. I want to get as much done as I can around here now so you don't have to worry about it later."

You sighed. He was going to wear himself out with projects leading up to his deployment. You loved that he wanted to leave you without a dripping faucet in the kitchen and without weeds in the backyard, but sending him off away in a few days if he wasn't well rested was going to spell disaster.

"If I need something done while you're away, I'll call Jake or Cam."

Bradley scoffed but dropped the rake he was using and headed your way in his low slung jeans. "I can't let another man do my yard work. That absolutely goes against guy code." He started to lean down for a kiss, and he smelled so good, you moaned before he even touched you. "Hey now," he said with a smirk, pausing a few inches from your lips. "I have an idea."

"Tell me," you whined.

His smirk grew. "Something that might successfully lure me away from my projects?"

"Yes, we can fuck," you told him immediately, but instead of kissing your lips, he chuckled and dropped to his knees next to your lounger and ran his nose along your shirt. 

"Hold that thought, because we will be doing that later." He nudged the shirt fabric up until his lips met the bare skin of your belly, kissing his new favorite spot on your body. "Hey, little Nugget," he whispered, and your heart melted as you ran your fingers through his sweaty hair. "Think Mommy will go for our scheme?"

You laughed. "You're scheming with the baby? Already?"

"Oh yeah," he told you with a serious nod. "Here's what we're gonna do."

"This should be good," you muttered as he kissed you one more time before pulling your shirt back down.

"How about instead of chores, we spend the rest of the day shopping for baby stuff?"

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly. You were just barely into your second trimester, and it felt early to be buying too many things at this point, but the eager look on Bradley's face had you agreeing. "I'll let you pick out one thing."

His eyes lit up, and you should have known what was coming. "Let's make it five things."

"Bradley," you groaned, and he started kissing your lips in earnest until you giggled. "Fine! Three things! Final offer!"

"Sold."

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

"I love this store," Bradley said as he held your hand and walked around the enormous baby depot.

"You've only been here one time!" you reminded him. "And we were shopping for a gift for someone else's baby."

He recalled that day perfectly. It was when you and he both admitted you wanted kids, and he hadn't stopped thinking about expanding his family with you since then. "I still love it," he said, pulling you toward the baby clothes. He desperately wanted to buy his child their first outfit, but he didn't know what would be suitable. Something told him he'd know what he wanted when he saw it.

The main issue he was having right now was your libido. He'd skipped a shower in favor of coming right here, and somehow you seemed even worse than usual. Even more wound up. "You smell so good," you whispered, pressing yourself against him as soon as he stopped to look around. Even as he throbbed for you, he told himself he needed to stay on task.

"Baby Girl, I will let you do anything you want to me," he swore, and your eyes glittered. "Later. After I pick out my three things for the Nugget."

"Well, hurry up," you whispered, running your fingers low on his abs while he looked at some onesies. "I'm horny."

He kissed the top of your head and guided you along. "I know you are. I won't leave you hanging." And he wouldn't. He'd be gone soon, sent away to some undisclosed location for some undisclosed amount of time where he'd have no access to you or the Nugget. He'd give you everything you wanted and needed right now, but this little shopping trip was something for him. He needed this. There was always the fear in the back of his mind that he might not return. 

"These are cute sunglasses," you mused, still running one hand along his body. "Little aviators."

Bradley felt like his insides were going to melt as you held up the tiniest pair of sunglasses he'd ever seen in his life. "Holy shit," he muttered when you handed them to him. "These are fucking adorable, Sweetheart. Good find. Our baby is going to look so damn cool."

"What did I tell you about swearing so much?" you said as you rubbed your face on his shirt. Bradley knew you were a ticking time bomb at the moment. He needed to make his selections and get you out before you started to whine for him.

"I'll fucking behave," he replied, making you laugh. And that was when he saw it. The perfect onesie. His child needed to have it. He made a beeline toward the shelf and snatched it up as you followed behind him.

"That's cute!" you said, running your fingers along the airplane and the clouds that spelled out Aim for the Sky. The clothing sizes went by months, which was very confusing to him. Surely the baby wouldn't be growing that fast? Needing new clothing every few weeks?

"Just to be sure," he muttered, grabbing the onesie in several sizes. "Okay, that's item number one of three."

"Technically that looks like four items to me, Bradley. Why are you getting so many onesies?"

"In case the Nugget grows at super speeds. I'm going to want to take a million photos of this outfit."

When he gave you his saddest eyes, you groaned and said, "Fine. Nugget's first outfit has been acquired. Pick two more items, and we can go home and get in bed."

With a grin, he started to lead you around the store. He wanted to get the baby a toy, but he wasn't sure which would be the best. Jake had been telling him about everything he wanted to buy for Jeremiah, and some of it sounded fun, but once again, he wanted the Nugget to have something unique. One of a kind. Only the best shit for his kid.

"Oh my god!" he exclaimed, thrusting the onesies and aviators into your hands and running to the end of the aisle. "That's it!" He was hitting the enormous box with his palm over and over again. "Look at this! It's perfect!"

"Roo, it's five hundred bucks, and the baby won't even be able to use it for a few years," you warned, but it was too late. He was already sliding the box from the shelf and carrying it to the front of the store. "Bradley!"

"It's one of my three items! Now help guide me. This thing is massive."

With great joy, he paid for the orange Bronco Power Wheels and carried the box out to his full sized blue Bronco and fit it in the back while you held the bag containing the onesies and sunglasses. "I am so afraid to ask what your third item is going to be," you said as he struggled to make the box fit. But he had an idea. He'd had an idea for ages. It was part of the reason he had been trying to clean up the backyard a little bit more and even out the soil next to the shed.

When he closed the tailgate, he kissed your forehead gently. "There's nothing to be afraid of," he said calmly as he buckled you in the passenger seat and leaned down to kiss your belly. "The Nugget and I know exactly what to get."

You rolled your eyes and then asked what he was scheming up now. You asked the entire way home what he was going to buy, and he was only able to finally distract you once he had his clothes off in the bedroom. "Don't worry about it, Baby Girl. Worry about the fact that you won't be able to walk straight in half an hour."

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

Bradley never told you what else he was going to buy, but later that night, you had the suspicion that it had already been purchased. You spent the evening with him out in the garage, sitting on his bench press and eating a bag of pretzels while he put the Power Wheels together on a tarp on the floor. 

"Can't leave the baby out," he muttered as he screwed the doors on. "Now we all have our own Bronco."

He looked adorable, his hair messy from how you'd had your fingers tangled in it, and the eager look on his face was something you'd desperately miss when he was gone. "The box says ages three to seven," you reminded him before you bit into a pretzel, but he just grunted in response. "And what if the Nugget doesn't like Broncos?" you asked just to tease him, earning a glare in response.

"The baby will have impeccable taste," he muttered, turning the page in the instruction booklet. "Broncos and hot sauce and airplanes."

You waited a few seconds until he looked very distracted, and then you softly asked, "What's the third thing you bought?"

He hummed as he located the set of screws he would need for the hood. "You'll see soon enough. It's being delivered tomorrow."

Tomorrow was Monday. He was leaving on Wednesday. "It's not something big that will need to be assembled like the Power Wheels, right?" He had the guiltiest expression on his face as he turned to look up at you. "Right?" you repeated. "Bradley!"

You got your answer the following morning when you were squeezing into your new uniform pants which were a size larger than your old ones. You were dreading the thought of having to start wearing a maternity uniform to work and went with new pants to buy yourself some time. You froze with your zipper halfway pulled up and called out to Bradley in the kitchen. "What's that sound?"

"Uh... it's the third thing for the Nugget being delivered," he replied, and you immediately headed for your front door and the repetitive beeping sound coming from outside. "Don't freak out," he said as he came up behind you as you wrenched the front door open. 

Bradley had already seemingly moved both Broncos to the street in anticipation of the forklift that was moving wooden pallets wrapped up in plastic onto the driveway. "Do I even want to know?" you whispered as the forklift backed up to scoop another pallet off of the truck that was parked in the middle of your street. 

He wrapped his arms around you from behind and let his hands rest on your bloated belly while he nuzzled your ear. "It's a thirty-seven piece jungle gym playset for the backyard."

"A thirty-seven piece...."

"The Nugget and I both really wanted it."

You pinched the bridge of your nose as your dog plopped down next to your feet, and the three of you watched the forklift make several more trips up the driveway. "Don't you dare try to buy anything else right now. Do you understand me?"

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

Nothing says 'Bradley's child' quite like baby's first Bronco. And he's so precious, he's already built the thing. He's been daydreaming about the playset for long enough that it was bound to happen, too. Let's send him on this deployment and get him back home to his wifey and his Nugget. Stay tuned for more! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster fanfiction #rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #go big or go home

[weirdworldofwinnie]

A Safe Way Out

Jonathan Breech x Female Reader (NSFW 18+ only)

Summary: You're a very shy patient at the psychiatric hospital and the newest inpatient part of the therapy group has to be the cutest man you've ever seen, and he takes an interest in you, but he's not quite as innocent as he looks.

Word Count: ~3,384

Warnings: Smut (unprotected sex), loss of virginity/innocent reader, cum squirting, oral (fem receiving), mental illness, past trauma, talk of depression and suicide, some angst, language

Disclaimer: This just fantasy/fiction, I do not own anything from the 2001 Irish film On the Edge starring Cillian Murphy.

Breech, Jonathan.

He was surely the prettiest person you'd ever witnessed admitted to this institution that he could make both men and even women jealous, even though his pajamas were ill-fittingly too short and he had a cocky attitude that didn't go unnoticed by the staff and other patients, but he wasn't a total asshole... at least you hoped.

At the couple of group therapy sessions he attended he was rebellious, giving the always tired (but very patient) Dr. Figure grief through ample sarcasm that made you stifle smirks, but as usual you never spoke much, being selectively mute unless you were forced to answer a question from Dr. Figure. They didn't give any drugs to dope up; the doctor didn't think you nor the small group you were part of needed them, but sometimes you wished they would so you didn't have to participate in these stupid sessions that went in half-spun circles and could just conk out in your room or outside.

You had been submitted here by your estranged parents after a series of concerning events that you had tried to mentally block out, including attempting to take your own life because of bullying and abuse; you were not able to ever acclimate fully to society because of it, which led you to being stuck in this place, mentally spinning wheels while growing more and more wary of the outside world everyday. Jonathan was the opposite; he had a spark of defiance and a fire you didn't have enough oxygen for to nourish for yourself. He clearly didn't think he really belonged here and in a way, you sort of admired him even if he was a bit strange and potentially dangerous... He was certainly an exciting refresher in such a dull, day-to-day drudgery.

One day after walking out of yet another mildly frustrating therapy session, he stepped in front of you in the hall as you were making your way back to your room alone, a curious light in his stunningly blue excuses for eyeballs.

"Hey, you mind if I join ya in your room?" he asked suddenly and you froze, uncertain of how to react. You only ever minimally interacted one-on-one with people you trusted... Fellow patient Nick kept saying Jonathan wasn't to be trusted, but Nick was also kind of a paranoid weirdo that always was listening to his headphones, so what did he know?

Jonathan seemed to sense your hesitation and he grinned, trying to put you at ease or maybe he was just messing with you. Either way, you had to hide your intrigue in case he was pulling your leg.

"Don't look spooked out, I'm just so fucking bored at this place and you're pretty cute, but you never really talk... I just wanna get to know ya better," he explained sincerely, but you still felt wary.

"Can I see your room at least?" he asked innocently and you finally gave him a shy nod, causing him to smile in broad relief that reminded you of the last rays of sunlight splashing upon the cliffs.

He walked along beside you, swinging his arms back and forth a bit as if he was winding himself up, all the way to your room and past an orderly who gave him a suspicious glance, but you gave the man a thumbs up to let him know it was fine. Security here was surprisingly not as strict as one would imagine for a psychiatric hospital and the younger patients tended to sneak out once a week to the city with minimal repercussions. They always came back anyway.

You reached your designated room and opened the door slowly, and Jonathan strolled in after you, sighing loudly.

"Oh, would'ja look at that - they gave you the fanciest room they've got," he commented sarcastically as you sat down on the small bed, tucking your knees up to your chest and he stood, surveying you and scene for a second and then joining to sit, copying your posture. He fiddled with his slippers for a minute and then turned to you curiously.

"So lemme get this right: You only talk when or if you have ta?"

"Yeah," you mumbled and he nodded sagely.

"That's an interesting way to deal with people. Don't blame ya, lot of wanks out there not worth being spoken to. What's your name - I mean, I know it from the meeting, but can you say it?" he asked, however unlike any doctor, it wasn't clinical or judgmental. He truly seemed interested and so you whispered your first name aloud to the floor.

"It's a nice name. How old are you?" You could hear the smile in his deep voice.

"T-Twenty two," you responded with a slight stutter, too fluttery to be able to meet his gaze.

"Fuck, that's older than me... I'm nineteen, but you know already know that. You ever been anywhere outside of Dublin?"

You looked away, not answering. If you ever had, you'd been too small to remember.

"How long you've been here?" he asked curiously and you splayed your hand, palm up towards him.

"Five weeks or five years?"

"Years," you whispered and he was silent for a few minutes, picking at the hem of his baby blue pajama pants.

"So much for the road to recovery, eh?" he scoffed and you just shrugged.

He put his legs down, feet flat on the floor and crossing his arms tight to his chest, wearing that oversized silly orange patterned sweater of his. He sniffed and bit his lip, glancing up at the bare ceiling as if he would find the answers to existence there.

"Something happened to you, I know. Shit, something happened to us all here. It's okay if you don't wanna or can't talk 'bout it. But I can't figure out if you have the same thoughts me and the others have? You know, what the doc locks us up for... suicidal? Like there's no fucking point to this blip of existence? And they think we're nuts, but we just seein' the truth."

You slowly pulled up your sleeve, exposing the faint scars etched into your left wrist, remnants of cutting attempts to escape life before you had been dumped off in this place indefinitely. You had never tried it since and were now an adult and could seek the means to leave if you truly wanted to, but there was nothing out there in the world for you.

"See this pinky finger?" Jonathan asked suddenly, poking up his baby finger and you nodded, interested.

"I was just trying to get rid of what was left of me old Da and the damn car didn't do the job right. Could've broken neck but all I broke was me baby finger. Least you've got the scars there to prove survivin'." He sighed heavily, almost disappointed, and you spoke the first sentence you had in days, your voice hushed from disuse.

"Why do ya wanna die?"

He blinked, giving you a meaningful glance and his full lips stretched into a tight ironic smile.

"I don't want to die; I don't want to be alive. I'm just a fucking living ghost, we all are... Doesn't that realization scare the wits outta ya?"

He looked away at the wall, blinking as the drippy tears escaped and his mouth quivered in quiet anguish, his dewy face scrunching up. You reached over and touched his cheek, catching a tear rolling down his smooth pallid skin and wiping it off tenderly. He sniffled, embarrassed, and gently took your wrist and whispered emphatically.

"I like you, Y/N. You don't freak out or talk down to me or bitch about your own problems. You're unique, but I'm thinking ya too cute to be truly crazy."

"Cute?" you repeated and he grinned at hearing your high breathy voice.

"Don't be so afraid to talk, you got a pretty voice. Bet nobody be calling ya cute in a long time, right?"

You shrugged sheepishly and he tilted your chin up with his fingers, tracing the outline of your face fondly and you blushed, not used to being touched by anyone like that. It was... comforting, a feeling you had been very numb to for some time. His pinkish lips parted and he tilted his head slightly, mouth gaping in anticipation for a kiss but you froze, unsure and not wanting to take the lead.

"I want a kiss," he murmured and the way he said it made you draw closer, trusting the process. He closed his eyes and blindly groped your lips, sucking, and then his tongue dove in with a surprising force, swirling around your mouth and he gripped the sides of your head in a vice, cutting off any resistance... Not that you were repulsed in any way once the initial shock wore off.

He broke away after several seconds, gasping and licking his lips hungrily.

"Mm, didja like that?"

Your cheeks became pink and he glanced over your head at the windowpanes being pattered with a steady rain and it was growing dimmer outside, evening approaching with a cloaking storm, and it reflected in the dull colors of the room that was becoming muted of natural light.

"Can I show you something?" he asked huskily, shifting on the bed restlessly.

You ducked your chin in affirmative, heart fluttering in uncertainty as he reached to yank his sweater and pajama shirt over his head, leaving him with a bare chest. You stared, fascinated in his anatomy; it had been so long since you'd seen anyone without some clothing on. He grinned, pointing awkwardly to your own chest.

"So, uh, now this... this'll be the part where you remove your garment," he instructed and cautiously, you unbuttoned your pj's and you never wore a bra, so soon he was facing your naked breasts with your nipples hardening from the airy exposure.

"Really cute," he breathed, gently putting a finger to your right nipple and pressing lightly, stroking around the center and then drawing a line to the other breast, doing the same to that one and you shivered, feeling a strange pull in your stomach that was borderline butterflies. He leaned back, bouncing up slightly on the bed and kicking his slippers off to the floor.

"But hold on, there's more to see," he said with a verging mischievous excitement. You'd never seen him look so genuinely joyful and as he tugged down his pj bottoms, you blinked, faced with a protruding bugle in his white underwear.

After a beat, he removed his boxers, springing forth a stiff appendage that you'd never in the flesh on a man, well, in its erect state at least.

"Want to touch it? It doesn't bite," Jonathan joked with a lazy grin and you cautiously extended a hand and put your fingers on the glistening tip. It was definitely moist and firmly solid, and he shuddered through a breath of arousal.

"Wet," you observed and he laughed, scooting closer so his penis was resting in your hands.

"I like it when you touch me there, don't stop," he begged and you felt him up, amused at his reaction.

He twitched in your palms as you ran careful fingers up his fleshy length and to his balls, lightly petting the coarse dark hair nesting around them, and he shivered pleasurably, resisting the urge to already ejaculate.

"Feelin' good?" you asked fondly, seeing his mouth agape and eyes nearly rolling back.

"Too fuckin' good, need to stop before I cum too quick. Wanna enjoy this... Lemme have at that pussy of yours now instead of using me dick, m'kay?"

You could tell it wasn't a question, but you weren't sure what he meant entirely. You eased off his genitalia, cock dripping slightly, and sat back, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Here," Jonathan murmured and his hands went to your waist, teasing down the waistband of your pj's and pushing the pants down your legs, letting you wiggle out and kick them to the floor, along with your slippers. He stared for a full ten seconds at your womanhood, biting his lip and swirling his tongue around his mouth, before he bent down and spread your legs apart. You tried to ask him what was going to happen, but he dove in already, tongue flicking at your delicate folds with attempted precision. You gasped audibly at the new sensation and he clamped hands down on your thighs, clinging on as he maneuvered his thick tongue faster and you grabbed at a fistful of his hair, shaking from the unfamiliarity and equal anticipation as your body seemed to take control of natural instincts and budding arousal grew stronger.

He just wanted to warm you up though, and he withdrew his tongue soon, lips glistening with a tiny smear of discharge. Your bare chest rose and fell in rhythm as he surveyed the fresh terrain, just aching for more. You very well might be a complete virgin and that prospect tantalized him yet also privately frightened him of messing up. Of course he'd been with girls before, but they weren't this sheltered and sweet. He may corrupt you and alter the course of this extremely new friendship, which in his mind was always meant to become more of a relationship; the moment he saw you he knew he needed to get in your pants.

"Eh, give it a go," Jonathan told himself forcibly and his finger jerked onto your entrance, worming in needily and making you squeak in surprise. He shushed you, zipping his lips with his free hand, giving you a clear message that it wasn't wise to make unusual noises. Even though it wasn't like there was cameras in the rooms, one couldn't be too careful. If Dr. Figure found out his newest unstable patient, the same one that pledged not to kill himself before New Year's Eve, was somewhat taking advantage of a virgin he just met in her own room, the doc would be most displeased.

Nevertheless, whimpers escaped from your throat as he pressed further to your clit and moved another finger to join the first, uncomfortably stretching into your walls. Despite the stinging pain, you felt an decent amount of wetness pooling from your vagina, almost like peeing, and clenched reflexively, hitting his knuckles.

"Oh, I'm thinking it's ready," he whispered impatiently, wriggling his digits away with a squelch and wiping your light drizzle of cum on his cock.

Before you could react, he adjusted position and slid on top of you, pressing his body down onto your bare one and rubbing his full cock in-between your thighs.

You gasped when he began to shove in rather roughly, squirming into your tight unbroken hole and you looked up at his face, watching his hair askew slightly and you noticed a scar above his eyebrow you hadn't noticed before. You wrapped your arms around his neck, afraid to get pinned underneath him, and tried to buck and roll with the motion, but it was getting painful.

"Hurts," you whimpered into his ear as he thrusted further.

"Not gonna hurt in a minute, baby," he whispered, too in heat to stop and consider much else and he clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle any more alarming noises.

"C-Can't go-go all the way in," he panted, his skin slapping yours and rocking the whole small bed.

Sure enough, the pain became more bearable though the more he worked you and pleasure eventually overturned it altogether, the bursting bloom of an orgasm that was very likely the best feeling that had ever happened to you. You sank your mouth on his shoulder to stifle a cry, careful to not bite too deeply, and then mewled into his neck, panting heavily along with him and digging your fingers into his brown scrubby sideburns and floppy hair.

"Mm, fuc-fucking good, ya likin' it, eh?" Jonathan choked out in a whisper and you couldn't respond, too taken by this incredible euphoria and the way his cock flexed inside close at your cervix. You weren't sure how long he could stay in without it becoming too uncomfortable, but he lifted up slightly, grunting softly at his own arousal and effort.

He pulled out just in time, finishing outside by squirting hot ropes of milky cum all over your vagina, stomach, and legs. The bedsheets took a few splatters as well and he heaved in relief as you laid there, utterly stunned at his sexual performance. You had squirted a little bit too and it had intermixed with his juices that you couldn't tell which was from whom. It was so intimate and gross and a big part of you absolutely loved it, having never been in such a situation before... It was exciting and playful.

He swiped two fingers through the fluids and spread it on your thighs further, encouraging you to feel it as well and you giggled at him taking your own fingers and guiding them up to his face, dotting his chin with cum.

Jonathan then sat back on his haunches and admired you, catching his breath and listening to the steady patter of rain. You rolled over onto your side and your eyes widened at a couple spots of blood on the sheets and he looked down in causal observance.

"Ah, that'd be normal, don't worry," he assured with a chuckle.

"Though, uh, maybe we'd better try to hide it case they come collect the sheets tomorrow," he realized on second thought.

"I say I been bleeding, on my cycle," you offered as an explanation.

"Yeah, that'd be good cover," he agreed and climbed off, picking up his clothing and shimmying back into the pajamas and sweater.

"Look, I'll get us some towels or somethin' from the bathroom," he said, walking quietly to the door and opening it with a peering glance out, but the coast was clear. Most patients should be in their rooms by now anyhow.

You relaxed in a post-orgasmic trance while he was gone, listening to the dripping weather outside and wondering how you'd be able to be normal around him tomorrow.

The door squeaked open softly a couple minutes later and Jonathan came back inside with a bundle of torn sheets of toilet paper clutched in his hand.

"Couldn't get towels, so I took some shit paper that'll have ta do instead," he announced with dry amusement and he used it to wipe you clean of the wet mess and you thanked him quietly, grateful to be dry again for it had become rather cold and tingly on your skin. You automatically flinched a fraction when he wiped at your folds, as you were raw and sore, but he was fairly gentle. When he finished, Jonathan moved in very close as if for a kiss, but only whispered near to your ear, tickling your earlobe with his warm breath.

"Don't tell anyone about what we did... just a little secret, m'kay? Though I guess you wouldn't be blabbin' to anyone else anyway," he chuckled darkly, but it wasn't mean.

"Maybe we can see each other again?" he proposed as he balled up the soiled toilet paper and retreated back towards the door.

"Okay, Jonathan," you whispered in reply and he flushed at the sound of his name on your lips.

"I think you'll be my new therapy, better than anything that wanker of a Freud psychiatrist can offer." He paused, shuffling his feet and then glanced up daringly, determination in his blue orbs.

"We'll find a way out soon, a safe way out, me and you and Rachel and Toby... and I'll show you how to have a good time at the pub, eh? Like the sound of that?"

You only smiled as he turned to exit, but then abruptly paused and bit his lip as he looked back at you with a yearning, like what the two of you had just done still wasn't enough.

"Abair do phaidreacha agus codhladh sámh," he spoke in Gaelic and you translated back softly with a meaningful smile.

"Say your prayers and sleep well."

With a dip of his head and smug, yet almost childlike smile, Jonathan ducked out the door and was gone for the night.

#jonathan breech #on the edge #on the edge 2001 #jonathan breech x reader #cillian murphy #jonathan breech smut #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x fem!reader #young cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #on the edge movie #irish film #fictional psychiatric hospital #don't like don't read #my writing #winnie's writing

[krirebr]

We Are Vain & We Are Blind

Pairing: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x f!Reader

Word Count: ~9.7k

Summary: When you move back in with your parents after a broken engagement, a drunken dare to visit the scary house on the edge of town changes everything for you. Forever.

Warnings: Please note, these warnings are broad to avoid spoilers. Proceed with caution. Horror, psychological horror (including but not limited to: general mind fuckery, memory loss, nightmares) noncon/dubcon, gore, death (see prompt), violence (mostly offscreen), explicit language, oral sex (f!receiving), me wildly picking and choosing from hundreds of years of {redacted} mythology, All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika

Masterlist

A/N: This is my entry for @the-slumberparty All Hallow’s Tropes challenge. My tropes were The house from all the scary stories; Caught trespassing on private property; and A string of unexplained deaths. I had so much fun writing this one. Thanks so much for hosting Navy and Roo!

I tried out a lot of new things here. Horror! Smut! A ridiculous length! I’d really appreciate hearing what you think, so please drop a comment or reblog if you read it. Or come screech at me about this or anything else in my asks! Thank you for reading lovelies!

Driving through your hometown, you were surrounded by fall colors. It was comforting, in its own way. Just as the seasons changed, so could you. You liked the sound of that, of this being a good change. You needed it. You were ready for it.

You pulled off of the main street and drove the few short blocks to your parents' house, parking on the side of the road. The house was something that hadn’t changed, everything exactly as it always had been. Your eyes drifted to the neighbor’s house, a piece of police tape hanging off the front door. Your brow furrowed in concern. You hoped everything was alright.

You grabbed your duffle from the backseat, deciding that you could wait to bring in everything else. Your entire life fit into your small sedan. You tried not to let that make you sad. This was good. Change was good.

You let yourself in with the key you'd had since you were a child. “Mom? Dad? I’m here,” you called into the house. 

Your mom met you in the entryway with a big hug. “We’re so happy you’re here, honey.” She took a step back to look at you, concern all over your face. “I could kill Andy for what he did to you.”

You sighed, “I’m fine, Mom, really.”

“You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

“I know, Mom,” you said, softly, both touched by her concern and a little annoyed that she was making you talk about it. You shrugged, “It’s over now.” Trying to change the subject, you asked, “What happened next door?”

Her face fell, “Oh, our poor neighbor died. They found him in the alley behind the American Legion. There was a whole investigation, but the coroner finally concluded that it was anemia.”

“I didn’t know you could die of that,” you said. Wasn’t it fairly controllable?

“I guess you can,” she shrugged, “if it’s bad enough and goes untreated.”

“Oh. Well, he must have been really sick then.”

She shrugged again, “Not that I ever saw, but how much can you ever know about someone you just say hello to at the mailbox? He was a nice young man, though.” She gave you another scrutinizing look, then gently patted your cheek. “Andy never deserved you,” she said and then made her way back down the hall towards the kitchen. “Your dad’s in his den,” she called over her shoulder.

You put your duffle down next to the stairs that led up to the bedrooms and moved through the house to find your dad. You found him in his den, sitting on the worn leather couch they’d had your entire life, baseball on the TV. You sat down next to him and he put his arm around you in a half hug. “It’s nice to have you home, sweetheart,” he said, not taking his eyes off the game.

“Thanks, Dad,” you said, appreciating the distance he was allowing you. The past month had been so hard. All the concern in everyone’s eyes, since it had all blown up with Andy, had become really difficult to take. You were happy to just sit here and watch baseball with your dad in silence.

At the next commercial break, he asked, “We have you for the whole night, or are you already making plans?”

You smiled. “I’m getting drinks with Tineka and David after dinner.”

“That’ll be nice,” he said. “Make sure you say hi for us.”

You got to the bar a little late. Your mom hadn’t wanted to give you up so easily, even though you’d be living with them and working from their house for the foreseeable future. You’d been to this bar a few times before, the nights before Thanksgiving when you were home from college, and drinking legally was still so novel. But not in ages, maybe a decade. You made your way through the Saturday night crowd, searching for Tineka before you found her set up in a booth in the back with her husband David, and someone you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

Tineka climbed over David to tackle you with a hug. “Oh my god! It’s been so long. I can’t believe you’re here!”

You returned the hug a little harder than she probably expected. Longer, too. She pulled back and examined you carefully, concern in her eyes. You just shook your head and smiled. “I’m really happy to see you,” you said.

She beamed back at you and then gestured to the last person at the table. “Look who we ran into!”

“Robbie, hey,” you said with a little wave. Gosh, you hadn’t seen him since graduation. You’d been decent friends your senior year and had even gone to Prom together when neither of you had been able to get another date. You’d lost touch when you’d gone away to school, and he’d stayed home to learn the family business.

“We mentioned that we were on our way to see you, and he wanted to tag along!” Tineka enthused, raising her eyebrows at you significantly. You struggled not to roll your eyes at her; it had been the tiniest crush, and that was so many years ago.

“Welcome home,” he said, sliding over to let you onto the bench seat.

You poured yourself a beer from the pitcher on the table, and you all quickly got into all the customary ‘nice to see you again’ questions. Was it weird to be back in town? Did you miss Boston? Did you know this teacher had retired? Or that that store had closed?

The pitchers multiplied, and when you’d lost track of whose turn it was to cover the next one, Tineka leaned forward excitedly, “Oh, here’s some good town gossip! Someone’s moved into the old Thrombey house!”

“What??” you yelled, louder than you meant to. “No way! I don’t believe it.”

“Wait, what’s the Thrombey House?” David asked. He didn’t grow up here with you, only moving here after he and Tineka got engaged, and she decided this was where she wanted to raise a family.

“It’s this old, abandoned house on the edge of town,” she told him. “There used to be this big, rich family that lived there. This was back in, like, the 70s. It was this old, super-rich guy and all his kids and in-laws and everybody. One night, one of his kids–”

“Grandkid,” you interrupted. 

“Yeah, one of his grandkids, he just loses it and sets fire to the house, with everyone inside. They all die, and Hugh Drysdale, the grandkid, just disappears. No one ever sees him again.”

You nod seriously across from her. “And weird shit starts happening on the property. Like animal carcasses thrown onto what’s left of the porch. Or that psychic that went there when we were kids. She said all she felt was pain, and whatever spirits were there had a desperate warning, but she couldn’t get anything beyond that. And then our senior year, that freshman that disappeared around there. And no one’s ever been able to do anything with it. It just stands there, a burnt-out husk. There’s absolutely no way someone’s moved into it.”

Tineka was nodding furiously, but Robbie leaned forward and butted in. “Here’s what actually happened,” he told David. “There was an electrical fire. Everyone died, probably including Hugh.” Tineka took a breath, and Robbie put up his finger to stop her. “They never found his remains because he was burned to a crisp, and there wasn’t enough to identify.” He raised another finger, “It was abandoned long enough that animals moved in and left their prey lying around.” A third finger went up, “All these stupid stories and rumors have made it a beacon for the unwell and scam artists.” Another finger, “That kid disappeared because it’s where all you dumbasses would go to party, and he was drunk and wandered into the woods and got lost or fell or something.” He raised the last finger on his hand, “And whoever’s owned the property over the years probably doesn’t want to be responsible for the cost of demolition, so they’ve just done the bare minimum to keep the city off their backs.”

You turned to look at him, mildly annoyed, “I don’t remember you being this boring in high school.” He just rolled his eyes at you. “Whatever,” you said and turned back toward Tineka. “I still can’t believe someone’s moved in there. They’d have to gut the whole building!”

“All I know,” she said, slurring a bit, “is that someone’s been coming and going, and sometimes there’s a car parked there.”

“What? Have you been staking it out? Says who?”

“People!” she shouted, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Then her face lit up dangerously. “I know! We should go out there right now so I can prove it to you!”

You shook your head. “I walked here from my parents’ house, and I,” you placed both hands on the table to steady yourself, “definitely can’t drive.”

“Robbie can!” You could tell, now that Tineka had the idea in her head, she wasn’t going to let it go. “Right? Please, Robbie!” she whined. 

Robbie, who’d switched to water after his second beer, who knows how long ago, looked to David, who shrugged, and then to you. All you could do was grin at him and nod. You hadn’t done something stupid like this in such a long time. The feeling was a little thrilling.

“This is such a bad idea,” Robbie said. “It’s so dark out. You won’t be able to see anything anyway.” He looked around the table again and then slumped in defeat. “Fine,” he gritted. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be out there too long.”

Robbie pulled up to the entrance of the lane leading up to the old Thrombey house and parked the car. Tineka leaned forward from her place in the back seat and lightly slapped your arm. “Alright!” she said, “this is where you get out! Good luck.”

“Wait,” you turned to face her, “I’m going on my own?”

“Yup! That’s how dares work.”

“When did this become a dare?” you asked, starting to get an uneasy feeling in your gut. “What if I get shot for trespassing?!”

“I thought no one could possibly live there,” she taunted. 

You tried to look to David for help, but he’d fallen asleep next to his wife. Robbie just gave you a shrug. “Fine,” you said, somewhat angrily. “But if I’m not back in 10 minutes, you better come find my body.” You got out of the car, slammed the door closed, and started your walk down the path.

The lane was surrounded by dense trees, and it wasn’t long before you couldn’t see the car behind you. The wind had picked up, blowing leaves in front of you, and you wrapped your cardigan around you as tightly as you could. A few minutes later, the house appeared before you. 

The outside had remained mostly intact, but you knew that it was basically a husk now. Still, it was large and foreboding. Most of the glass in the windows was cracked, and ivy had overtaken much of the siding. As you got closer, you could see that there was, in fact, a vintage beamer tucked against the side of the house. Damn it, Tineka was right. You were about to admit your defeat and go back to your friends when the front door opened. You froze as a man carefully walked out onto the decaying porch.

You could have sworn that a moonbeam suddenly appeared where there wasn’t one before to light him directly. He was dressed in a sweater and slacks underneath a long camel overcoat with a colorful scarf. He looked right at you even though you were sure that the area you were in was too dark to be spotted. “This is private property. You’re trespassing,” he said. Something about his deep voice and insistent stare had you pinned to your spot.

“Um,” you said, trying to look away, but there was something about him that had you transfixed. “Uh, sorry, I just– um, I didn’t think anyone lived here. How– how do you live here?”

He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow at you. Everything had gone completely quiet. In the moonlight, his skin glowed, looked so pale it was almost translucent, and you felt completely hypnotized. He might have been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen.

“Sorry,” you said again, or maybe just breathed it. “We were just– we were drunk and–” You didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Why were you here?

He looked you up and down. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Not tonight then.”

“What?” you asked, even though you were pretty sure he was talking to himself more than to you.

“Not tonight,” he repeated, grinning a little meanly. “I don’t have much of a taste for cheap booze.”

What a strange thing to say. It’s not like you were inviting him for a drink. What did he mean?

His focus shifted to somewhere behind you, and it was like you suddenly found yourself back on earth. The sounds of the forest filtered back in, and you didn’t feel held in place anymore. As you tried to adjust to the sudden onslaught of your senses, you slowly processed that you could hear Tineka calling for you, and the sounds of Robbie’s car quickly approaching.

“Better run, little rabbit,” the man said. “You don’t want to keep them waiting.”   

You turned around to see the car pull up, and Tineka hopped out without waiting for it to stop fully. “Holy shit, you scared the shit out of us! You didn’t come back! This was so dumb, I’m so sorry.”

You turned back to the house, to say what, you weren’t sure. But the man was gone. Maybe he’d never even been there? Maybe you were even drunker than you thought. “I’m not sure what happened,” you said, in a daze, as you let Tineka and Robbie herd you back into the car.

You were awoken the next morning by a knock on your bedroom door. Your mom let herself in without waiting for a response. She was carrying a large vase filled with roses so deep red, they were practically black. 

“What are those?” you mumbled, barely awake.

“How am I supposed to know?” she asked as she placed them on your dresser. “Someone left them for you.”

“Wha?” It was too early for this. You rolled over to look at the digital clock on the bedside table. Oh. It was 11 AM. Fuck. You didn’t think you’d had that much to drink the night before, but you felt incredibly hungover. This was drinking in your thirties, you guessed. “Is there a card?” You finally mustered the awareness to say. 

“Not that I saw.”

“Then how do you know they’re for me?”

She looked around theatrically. “Who else could they be for? Your father?”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for bringing them in, Mom. I’ll be down in a bit.”

She nodded and left. 

You got up and examined the bouquet. They were beautiful, but… dark. There was something about them that made you feel a little unsettled. The vase looked old. Vintage. Expensive. No card. No sign of where they came from. 

You opened your phone and pulled up the contact you’d made for Robbie the night before. You wrote out the text and hit send before you could think better of it.

Hey, weird question. And please know that I’m embarrassed to even ask it, especially if you say no, but. Did you send me flowers?

His response was immediate.

Nope, not me. Aren’t you popular

You cringed and tossed the phone on the bed to create some distance. You hadn’t even been back 24 hours yet. Who could they possibly be from?

Late that night, you were wandering through the grocery store aisles, making your way towards the freezer section. Your mom didn’t keep snacks in the house, and you’d had a sudden craving for ice cream. Just as you were coming up on your prey, someone stepped right in front of you and turned around to face you.

“Well, if it isn’t the little trespasser,” the man from the Thrombey house said. It was startling to see him in the middle of the grocery store. He seemed so out of place, wearing his same overcoat and scarf, which from this distance you could now see was silk. Everything about him seemed expensive, even his smirk, and here you were in yoga pants and a too-large sweatshirt. How did he even recognize you? It’d been so dark that night.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, somewhat bashfully, “sorry again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, with a cold smirk that you were starting to think was just the permanent state of his face. “I kind of liked the novelty of it. It’s not very often that your kind comes right to me, instead of the other way around.”

What the fuck did that mean? Did he mean not wealthy people? Well, you weren’t the one living in a house that was about to fall down. This man was so strange. “Well, anyway,” you said, “I’ll let you get back to your evening.” You tried to step around him to get to the ice cream case, but he followed you there. 

“What’s your poison?” he asked. You grabbed a carton of Moose Tracks and showed him, before trying to walk away again. 

He kept pace with you. “What’s your name?” he asked.  He stepped in front of you again and looked you right in the eye. “C’mon, tell me your name.”

It fell past your lips without you ever making the conscious decision to tell him. He smiled. All of his smiles were a little mean. “You can call me Ransom,” he said. 

You’d arrived at the self-checkout. You were so ready to get out of there. “Well, okay, Ransom. It was nice meeting you, but I’m gonna check out now. And let you get back to your shopping.” You noticed for the first time that he didn’t have a cart or basket with him. And he wasn’t holding any items in his hands. He could have just gotten there, not started shopping yet, but something in your gut told you it wasn’t right. 

He paused at the opening of the aisle opposite you. “Yeah, I think I’ve found what I was looking for,” he winked, and then turned around and finally walked away.

You tried to suppress the shiver that coursed through you. There was something not right about him. It didn’t matter. He was gone. You paid for your ice cream and walked out the automatic doors–

You were sitting in your car. Something niggled at your brain. You couldn’t remember the walk through the parking lot. That was strange, but you were probably just on autopilot. Plus, you were tired. Exhausted, really. You hadn’t realized just how exhausted you were. There was a twinge in your neck. You tried to stretch it out but the skin pulled a little painfully. You looked at the clock. It was later than you realized. You needed to get home, eat this ice cream, and go to bed.

That night, you dreamt of a river of blood and you were drowning in it. You woke up choking on nothing.

In the morning, you still felt tired, but you could hear your parents moving around downstairs, so you got up and got dressed. You put on a T-shirt and jeans, a cardigan, and then found an old scarf that you looped around your neck a few times. 

When you got downstairs, your mom was scrambling eggs at the stove, while your dad read the paper at the kitchen table. He smiled and wished you a good morning, then nodded at your chest. “Is that your passive-aggressive way of telling me to turn the heat up?” He laughed at himself.

“Huh?” you asked and looked down. Oh. The scarf. Was it odd? Now that you thought about it, you weren’t even sure why you’d put it on. It had just felt… important. You didn’t know why. But you also couldn’t take it off. You curled in on yourself, a bit defensively. “I just liked it with this outfit.” 

Your mom came over to the table. “Leave her alone, you,” she said to your dad as she set a plate of breakfast in front of each of you. “I think it looks nice, honey,” she said to you as she sat down with her own plate. “Although, maybe a little warm. It’s cooling down, but it’s not winter yet.”

You fingered the fringe of the scarf self-consciously. “I just like it,” you said, quietly. It was just a scarf. You didn’t know why everyone cared so much.

Your dad was the one to finally change the subject. He shook out his paper as he asked you, “Didn't you go to school with Shannon McCready?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said around a bite of eggs, “She was a real bitch. What? She get arrested or something?” 

Your mom grumbled unhappily next to you about your language, but you barely even noticed because the next thing your dad said was “No, she died a few days ago.”

You couldn’t say what or why, but something inside of you reacted to that. A frisson of fear crawled up your spine. "What?"

"Mhmm, the obituary doesn't say exactly, but it seems like it was sudden."

"Does it say how?"

He shrugs, "Just says natural causes."

"Natural causes? She was thirty-two!" 

He shrugged again and went back to his paper. Your mom blithely ate her breakfast beside you. You couldn't explain why you were so unnerved by this, but something deep inside of you was screaming that it wasn't right. You took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. You barely even knew her. You needed to get logged into work. Focus on something else.

The workday was long and hard. Your exhaustion only built as the day went on and your mind was all over the place. But you finally made it to the end and triumphantly logged off.

You met Tineka for dinner, just the two of you, at a little place right off Main Street. After you’d gotten settled and your drinks had arrived, she’d looked at you carefully. “I didn’t want to bring it up the other night with David and Robbie there, but how are you doing with everything? Really?”

You sighed. “Uh,” you said, “better than I thought I’d be? I mean, everything feels kind of strange, because I was living this whole life, and I just don’t really have any of it anymore? I mean, I was living in Boston with Andy. We had an apartment, a community. We were gonna get married. And now none of those things are true anymore. None of that is mine. That’s strange. But, maybe not bad. I’m realizing that I was kind of unhappy there. More than kind of. But I couldn’t see it until I was outside of it. And, like, moving back in with my parents, it isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t feel bad right now. If feels OK. If that makes sense.”

Tineka nodded. “I think that makes a lot of sense. And for what it’s worth, Andy was a piece of shit and I’m glad you’re rid of him.” She reached forward, cocktail in hand, to clink your glasses together. All you could do was smile. You really had missed her.

Your seat faced the window, and as you chatted, you watched the sun set over the colorful trees outside. It really was pretty here. This wasn’t a bad place to spend the season. 

As you were finishing your entrees, you frowned when you saw Ransom walk in. He noticed you too, and, waving the hostess away, made a beeline for your table. 

“We just keep running into each other,” he said, once he got to you, that perma-smirk firmly in place. 

"It's a small town," you said, nervously. You couldn't explain why this man triggered your fight-or-flight instincts so terribly. You were being ridiculous. He hadn’t done anything. “Oh, uh, sorry. Ransom, this is my friend Tineka. Tineka, Ransom.” 

Tineka looked between the two of you, open curiosity on her face. “How do you know each other?” she asked.

 “New friends,” Ransom supplied. “We just can’t help bumping into each other.”

He didn’t seem to want to talk about where you’d met. That was his business, so you just nodded along.

He stood there for a moment, in a way that was too confident to be awkward, but still had you feeling a little uncomfortable. Tineka, bless her, had the social skills you just couldn’t pull together at that moment. “It’s packed tonight,” she said. “You’re welcome to sit down with us, although we’re probably leaving soon,” she gestured to your nearly empty plates.  

“Thank you,” he said, “I think I’ll take you up on that.” He winked at you as he took the empty chair next to you. Something about it, about him, made you have to look away, focusing on your plate.

“So,” Tineka started, and oh no, that was her casual interrogation tone, “are you from around here? This town is small enough that I’m always surprised when I don’t already know someone.”

Ransom chuckled. “Sort of. I used to have family here, but I haven’t been back in ages. Just in town to collect some things and then I’ll probably be on my way again.”

You could feel him looking at you. His attention was always so much.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Tineka said, giving you a sideways glance you knew meant trouble. “We’re only just getting to know you.”

He laughed. “Well, I’ll admit, I’ve found more here than I expected.” He stretched his arm out and briefly rested it against your chair back. His fingers brushed you between your shoulder blades and you couldn’t help the way you shivered. He dropped his arm back into his lap. When you turned to him, he was looking at Tineka, but you could feel his attention still on you. 

“You said your family’s no longer in the area?” Tineka kept probing.

“No, they all passed a while ago.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. 

“Don’t be,” he said. “It was no great loss, trust me.” There was a darkness in his eyes when he said that that had you swallowing nervously.

“I guess it’s the season for homecomings,” Tineka said, then pointed at you, “she just moved back too.”

He grinned knowingly at you. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” she said, pointedly. “Recovering from a shitty ex.”

“Tineka!” you hissed, but all she did was laugh. 

“Well,” he said, working his jaw, and you would swear it almost came out as a growl, “I bet he’ll live to regret that.” You couldn’t explain it, but at that moment, it felt like a threat. Which didn’t make any sense. He didn’t know Andy. He barely knew you. But the most disturbing thing was the little thrill that rushed through you at the thought. 

While you were having your mini-crisis, he stood up abruptly. “You know,” he said, “it really is busy in here. I’m probably better off getting dinner somewhere else. And I’ve intruded on girls’ night enough.” He then looked right at you and said, “I’ll be seeing you.” That, too, felt like a threat.

As he left, Tineka looked at you excitedly. “He’s hot!” she said, too loudly considering he hadn’t actually exited the restaurant yet. You hissed at her, but she batted it away. “And he’s clearly into you. Seems like the perfect opportunity to fuck Andy out of your system.”

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed and looked to the front to make sure he’d left. “You don’t think there’s something kind of unsettling about him?” 

“What do you mean?”

You paused to figure out how to put it into words. “I don’t know, sometimes, just the way he looks at me, I get this chill down my spine.”

She laughed, delightedly. “Yeah, that’s called ‘he wants to fuck you!’ Seriously, this is good. Great, even!”

“I don’t know,” you said. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on that you just didn’t understand. 

She sobered and looked at you seriously. “Listen, you deserve this. After all that shit Andy put you through – the women. It’s time for you to get yours. I don’t care if it’s Ransom, or Robbie, or whoever, but you deserve this.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s definitely not going to be Robbie.” You couldn’t even imagine that.

“Ok, fine!” she said, throwing her hands up. “Then it should be Ransom!”

You laughed. “Ok, Tineka. Sure.”

A little while later, you left the restaurant together. On the sidewalk, Tineka asked, “Did you walk here?” You nodded. “Do you want a ride home?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not far. I’m good.”

“Are you sure? It’s just so dark.”

“Unless this town really changed while I was gone, I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine. Thanks, but I want to walk.”

“Ok,” she said, but she seemed hesitant. 

You rolled your eyes and she backed down. “Hey,” you said, pulling her into a hug. “This was really fun. I love you.”

“Love you too,” she said and pulled away, starting to head back to her car. “Think about what I said about Ransom!” she threw over her shoulder.

You laughed and started walking in the opposite direction, back to your parents' house. 

A few blocks later, when you were off the main street, you stopped when you heard a noise behind you–

You were half a block further down now. You looked around, confused. What just happened? How– The pain in your neck was back. It was on the other side now, and worse. You were so tired. A little dizzy. You walked as quickly as you could the rest of the way home.

You dreamt again that night. In this one, you sat in the middle of a large field. The sun shone down on you but you were sobbing uncontrollably. Your tears were made of blood.

You slept through your alarm the next morning, only waking when your mom came in and shook you. You were exhausted still, even though you’d slept a solid nine hours. Maybe you were coming down with something. Even though you had no other symptoms.

You went through your dresser three times until you found your one turtleneck. It seemed important.

Work felt impossible. Your focus was non-existent. You just wanted to lie down. 

Late that afternoon, when Robbie texted to see if you wanted to grab a coffee, you logged out early. You weren’t going to get anything else done anyway. Caffeine sounded helpful.

When you met outside the coffee shop, he asked, “Is coffee still ok? I know it’s getting kind of late in the day. We could do beer instead.”

You shook your head. “No, coffee’s good. I’m trying to cut down on how much I drink.” You stopped. You were? When did you decide that? Why? You shoved down the not-right feeling that was crawling up your throat. It was fine. It was good. Healthy. It was fine.

Robbie raised his eyebrows when you ordered a triple espresso, but didn’t say anything. It helped some, but you still felt sluggish. And you struggled to focus on the conversation. 

“Are you doing okay?” he asked after about half an hour.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said, trying to shake your head clear. “I’ve just been a little off the past few days. Probably just everything that’s happened catching up with me.”

He nodded. “I heard about all that. I’m so sorry. I’m here to listen if you ever need it.”

You gave him a genuine smile. “I’m fine, really,” you said, “but I appreciate it.”

A few minutes later, as you were trying to decide if you’d been there long enough to politely make your excuses and go home, he said, “Oh, do you remember Alex Higgins?”

“Uh, I don’t think so?” The name didn’t ring a bell, but you weren’t sure if that was because you didn’t know them or whatever was going on with you.

“He was a few years ahead of us? Friends with my brother?” 

You shrugged and shook your head.

“Well, this won’t mean much to you, then,” he said, “but he died a few days ago.”

Not right not right not right, your gut said. “How… how did he die?” you asked, terrified of the answer without knowing why.

“They don’t know yet. They haven’t been able to find anything wrong with him. They just found him collapsed outside, I guess.”

You white-knuckled it through the rest of your coffee.

Afterward, you lost over half of your walk home. When you arrived, there was another bouquet of almost black roses on your front porch.

Things began to disintegrate quickly from there.

Over the next week, you kept losing time. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, sometimes even more. Once you started paying attention, you realized it was only after the sun went down. But knowing that didn’t seem to help.

There were more nightmares too. There was the one where you were being chased through the woods by something unseen, under a blood-red moon and the trees came alive to trap you. Or the one where you were back at the Thrombey house and it was on fire. The skies opened up, but instead of rain, the clouds poured down blood. The strangest one had Ransom in it. Blood flowed from his mouth as he choked you with his scarf. They all started to blend together after that. Blood. Pain. Terror. 

Even with the nightmares, you slept like the dead. But that didn’t stop you from waking up exhausted every morning. You called in sick to work multiple days. You stopped seeing Tineka or Robbie. What would have been the point? You couldn’t concentrate on anything. You could barely stay awake. And every time you went for a walk in the evening, to try to get some exercise and clear your head, you lost time. Something was very wrong and you didn’t know what to do.

The one person you did see was Ransom. He often seemed to be out and about at the same time you were. The fear you felt for him was still there, but you couldn’t deny that you were drawn to him, too. When he was near. you could feel the chaos that had taken you over the last week finally quiet down. You still lost time with him, but it didn't seem to matter as much. Nothing seemed to matter as much when you were with him. Even if you still felt the instinctual urge to turn around and run away whenever you saw him.

Compounding your troubles, the roses just kept coming. Every few days, another bouquet appeared on your porch. You still had no idea who was sending them. It had occurred to you that maybe it was Andy, trying to fuck with you. As much as you hated him now, that just didn’t seem like him. But you couldn’t think of anyone else who would do it either. You barely even knew anyone in town anymore.

For a reason you couldn’t articulate, you didn’t say anything about any of this to your parents. You couldn’t hide it from them though. They may not have known exactly what was going on, but they knew there was something. You overheard them one night as you came down the stairs to get a glass of water, their low tones coming from the living room.

“She is not okay,” your dad was saying, “and we need to stop acting like she is.”

“She’s been through a lot,” your mom said. “If she wants space–”

“Look at her!” your dad said, trying to keep his voice quiet, but the emotion still came through. “The time for space is over. I think we need to start talking about professional help.”

As quietly as you could, you ran back up the stairs. You weren’t that thirsty.

You spent the next two days in bed. When your mom came in to check on you, you told her you had the flu.

On the third day, you woke up feeling clear-headed for the first time in ages. You were rested. You hadn’t had any nightmares. The fog seemed to have cleared from your brain. When you bounced downstairs and greeted your parents, the relief on their faces made you want to cry. Your work day was the most productive you’d had since you’d arrived at your parents’ house. You finally felt like things were going to be ok.

That night after dinner, you decided to celebrate your good mood with snacks. You got in your car and started driving to the grocery store.

When you parked, you looked up. You weren’t at the grocery store. You were in front of the Thrombey house. You burst into tears. No no no. How had you gotten here? Why was this happening to you? As you were about to put the car in reverse and go back home, the front door opened and Ransom came out. So instead, you got out of the car.

“Trespassing again?” he asked, that smirk always on his lips. Like there was a joke that only he knew about.

   “I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how I got here, I don’t know what’s happening!”

He came down off the porch and walked over to you. He gently brushed a tear off your cheek and looked you in the eye. “Poor little rabb–

You were sitting in your car, parked in front of your parents’ house. The sun was coming up. How? The last thing you remembered, it was evening. It’d been hours. So many hours. The entire night. You let out a frustrated, guttural cry. You checked your phone, certain there must be so many panicked calls and texts from your parents, but there was nothing. Looking further, you found a text from yourself to your mom, telling her that you were spending the night with Tineka. Had you? Was that where you’d been? You thought about calling Tineka to check but one of two things would happen. She’d be confused as to why you couldn’t remember that you’d just left her house. Or, she’d tell you that she hadn’t seen you in days. Both options seemed equally awful and impossible to deal with. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, and looked up at the front door. In front of it, was an ornate, vintage vase, filled with roses, so deep red they were practically black. No. Absolutely not. You started your car again and pulled back out onto the road in a flurry. This was one mystery you might actually be able to solve and you were going to do it.

The only dedicated floral shop in town didn’t open for another two hours. That was fine. You could wait. You sat in your car as long as you could stand it, and then when you grew too antsy to bear, you got out and paced in front of the storefront.

As soon as the door was unlocked, you were inside the shop, frantically looking through all of the roses.

“Can I help you?” an employee cautiously asked from behind you. 

You spun around. “I’m looking for black roses.”

“Oh, uh, so, roses don’t actually come in true black. The closest is a really dark red that looks almo–”

“Yes, I know that!” You interrupted. “That’s what I’m looking for!”

“Well,” they said, a professional curtness in their tone now, “we don’t carry them. You’d have to do a special order.”

That was actually good news. It’d narrow down possibilities considerably. “Can you tell me who’s been ordering them?”

They looked confused. “Like, ever?”

“No! Just in the past two weeks!”

They took a step back. “We haven’t had anyone order them recently.”

You shook your head wildly, desperation taking over. “No, that’s not true! You’ve been delivering them to my house! I just want to know who’s sending them.”

Another employee came out from the back and eyed you carefully.

“Please,” you said, sounding pathetic even to your own ears. “You have to tell me who it is. I have to know.”

“We haven’t had any orders like that,” the first employee said firmly.

“No!” you shouted. “Please just tell me. You have to tell me!”

“Ma’am,” the second employee finally spoke up. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

You stopped and looked around yourself. Another customer had come in. They stood by the door and stared at you. Everyone stared at you.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The first employee looked deeply uncomfortable, but the second just folded their arms and gave you a hard look.

“You’re sure?” you asked. “You really haven’t had any special orders?” You felt a few tears fall down your cheeks.

“Ma’am, if you don’t leave, we’ll have to call the cops.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You left as quickly as you could, trying not to look anyone in the eye.

Once outside and away from the floral shop, you found a bench and sunk down on it, trying to pull yourself together. What was happening? What was wrong with you? 

You heard someone across the street call your name and you looked up to see Robbie rushing toward you. He dodged a few cars and then stepped up onto the sidewalk. “What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You started sobbing at that, unable to hold anything in any longer. He sat down on the bench next to you and tentatively put his hand on your back. He said your name again, softly. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I think I’m losing my mind,” you choked out. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He was rubbing gentle circles now. “Tell me what’s happening. Maybe I can help.”

So you did. You told him about losing time and saying things you didn’t understand, being so tired all the time you could barely get out of bed, the nightmares. He listened quietly to everything and when you were done he just nodded for a moment, then said, “First thing, I think, is that you need to see a doctor.”

You shook your head. “No, I can’t.”

“Listen, I know it’s scary, but I don’t think this is going to go away on its own. This could be a brain tumor or something. You really need to get it checked out.”

“You’re not listening to me,” you growled out, surprised by how upset you were, and how quickly your mood had changed. “I can’t.”

“Ok,” he said, putting his hands up in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m listening. Why can’t you?”

“I just can’t!” you said, standing up. You were jittery. You needed to move.

Robbie reached out a hand, and quietly said your name again, clearly trying to calm you down.

You couldn’t stop shaking your head. “I just can’t, okay? I just can’t. I can’t. I’m not allowed!”

You both froze. “What–” Robbie stopped then tried again, shock clear on his face. “What do you mean you’re not allowed?”

You didn’t know, exactly. You just knew it was true. No doctors. Absolutely not. “I have to go,” you said and turned abruptly to race back to where you’d parked your car. Robbie called after you the whole way.

Your phone buzzed at you the whole drive home. Robbie. He wouldn’t stop. It continued all day. He was worried about you, his texts and voicemails told you. What you said had really freaked him out. Was someone hurting you? He just wanted to help. You hid in your bedroom and buried your phone in your laundry hamper. You could still hear it buzzing away, but it made it easier to pretend that you couldn’t. Finally, sometime after dark, it stopped.

It started ringing again in the morning, just as insistent as before. You dug it out of your dirty clothes, ready to tell Robbie to just forget what happened and leave you alone when you saw that it was Tineka, and she was calling for the third time.

When you answered, at first you just heard her crying. “Tineka?” you asked. “Are you there? What’s going on?”

“Robbie,” she sobbed, and for a moment you thought maybe he’d talked to her, told her who knows what, but then she continued. “Oh god, Robbie. Robbie’s dead.”

A chill whipped through your entire body. “What?” you breathed. Just yesterday– No. Your mind went to all the people you’d heard about since you’d gotten here. The vague reasons, the shrugs given as cause of death. A pattern you’d refused to see until this moment. You had to know if he was part of it. “Tineka, how did he die?”

“Oh god,” she sobbed, “It’s so awful. I can’t– His throat. It was ripped out.”

You felt time stop. Distantly, you could hear Tineka still talking. Going on about animal attacks, coyotes and bobcats, maybe something escaped from a sanctuary or private owner. You couldn’t explain it, you didn’t know why – you obviously didn’t know anything – but you knew deep down in your being that this was because of you. Something was happening.

Without saying anything, you ended the call and left your phone on your bed. You didn’t get dressed, still in the leggings and oversized t-shirt you always slept in. You moved through the house as quickly and quietly as you could, not bothering to stop to look for your parents. The only things you grabbed on your way out were your coat and your car keys. 

As you started driving away, you didn't really have a destination in mind, but once you were about halfway there, you realized that you did in fact know where you were going now. Of course, you did. There was only one place to go. One person to see.

As you pulled up in front of the Thrombey house, it struck you that you’d never seen it in daylight before. The way the sun shone down on it almost made it more eerie. It should not be here, in this daylight world. It was a relic of the night. You shook your head at yourself. Your thoughts had become so strange lately.

You waited in your car. He always heard you and came out, but this time, nothing. You looked to the little driveway at the side. The beamer was there. So where was Ransom? After several minutes of waiting, you got out. You went up to the house, ready to pound on the door until he came out, but stopped at the porch. You could clearly see now how the wood was rotting, the holes that were already there. You couldn’t risk taking a single step onto it. You didn’t know how he came in and out this way.

You looked around, there must be another way in, maybe on the side of the house. As you walked around the corner, you came up short. Lining this side of the house, hidden from the front, was a beautiful, neat row of rose bushes, in such a deep red they were practically black. No. No no no. It couldn’t be. But of course, it was. You were so stupid. So blind. You fell to your knees beside them. It had all started here, at this house. You could clearly see that now, finally. Whatever end came, that would be here too, so you laid down, and you waited. There was nothing else to do.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. You were pretty sure you’d dozed in and out. But at some point, the sun had gone down. Once it was fully hidden beneath the horizon, you heard the front door open and footsteps come around the side of the house.

Ransom crouched down next to your head, his hand gently brushing the hair out of your face. “So you know now,” he said.

It wasn’t a question, but you still shook your head. “No,” you said. “I don’t know anything. I don’t understand.”

He nodded and stood up. You sat up, almost like there was a string in your chest, connected to his. “You know,” he said, looking up at the house. “Ransom is my middle name. I’ve always gone by it, but when they reported on everything that happened here, they used my first name, so that’s the one everyone remembers.”

Of course. “Hugh,” you breathed. “You’re Hugh Drysdale.” You were as sure of it as you’d ever been of anything. Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. He nodded, pleased. “How?” you asked. Hugh had been roughly your age when the fire had happened and he’d disappeared. Almost 50 years ago. The man standing in front of you didn’t look a day over 35.

He crouched down again, so that he was level with you, so that you could clearly see his face in the moonlight. So that you had a perfect view of the fangs that dropped down.

You gasped, wanting to scoot away on your hands, but you stayed pinned in your spot. “No, that’s not– You can’t–” You took a deep breath and gave yourself the courage to say the word. “Vampires aren’t real.”

He threw his head back and laughed. It was wild and loud and cruel. “Come on now,” he said, “I know you aren’t that stupid, sweetheart.”

As you tried to process this, you realized it didn’t actually matter how any of this could be real. There was only one question you actually needed an answer to. “Why did you do this to me?” 

He grinned at you, mean as ever. “Because you came right to me, little rabbit. How could I resist an offering like that?” Tears started to run down your face, and he cooed at you, collecting a few with his finger. “I’ll admit, at first, I’d just planned to drain you, leave your body beside the grocery store for some teenage employee to find the next day.” He smiled at the thought. “But that first taste. You have no idea how good you taste, baby. It couldn’t just be a one-and-done. It was as easy as anything to put you under a little thrall. Compel you to forget when I fed on you, make sure you didn’t let anyone else know. The plan was to snack on you while I was here, and once I had everything I needed, I’d bring you with me, keep you as a little pet blood bag until I was bored and done with you. And torturing you was so fun. It made having to be here so much more bearable. But as I broke you down, brought you to your weakest, it made me realize that I’m desperate to see you at your strongest. See you surging with power.”

There was something in his words, in his eyes, that filled you with panic. But also something else. Want, you were terrified to admit. “What does that mean?” you whispered.

“It means you’re mine, baby, and I’m going to keep you. Claim you. Forever.”

It was the last word you fixated on. That was the word that meant everything. That really said what he meant. You took a deep breath, trying to get the crying under control. “And if I let you do that, this will all stop? I’ll be ok again?”

He chuckled. “Sure, honey. If you ‘let’ me do it, it’ll all stop. You’ll get your mind back. The thrall will lift.”

“And if I don’t?”

He tilted his head to the side. “If you don’t, you’ll still be mine. I’ll just make it hurt. Your friend Tineka sure has a pretty neck. Maybe I’ll rip it out, just like I did to your other little friend. Or your parents. Blood is kind of like wine, you know, gets better with age.”

“No, no, please,” you begged.

“Then give yourself to me, right now.” He leaned forward into your space and you fought the dual urges to pull away and to close the distance completely.

You took a deep breath and blinked the tears away. Your torment would stop. Things would be better. Your family would be safe. “Okay,” you whispered, “please. Please, Ransom.”

Without further ado, he pulled you into a bruising kiss, both hands tightly gripping your face, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. He gave you no choice but to sink into it, his fangs still dropped, occasionally nipping into your lips. When he pulled away, you were left gasping for breath. 

You had no time to recover before he was pushing back on your shoulders and then slipping his hands under your knees to tip you onto your back. You held yourself up, as much as you could, on your forearms, unable to look away from him. Mesmerized by him, as always. He pulled on your leggings until they ripped in two and tossed them away. He crawled between your knees and then did the same to your panties. You cried out at the sting of the elastic breaking. He smoothed a hand over you, fingers moving through the thatch of soft curls, and growled “Just perfect.” Then he lowered his face to your cunt and slowly dragged his tongue along the length of it. You finally gave in and let your upper body fall back, tossing your head to the side, your hands grasping for purchase in the dry grass beneath you, as he worked you over with his mouth. Little mewls escaped you, beyond your control. You wanted to deny how good it felt; he was a literal monster. He had killed countless people. His own family, in this exact spot where he now defiled you. But you couldn’t think about that right now. You couldn’t think about anything other than his mouth on you, the rising heat in your core, the grass under your hands, the twigs poking into your back. The one thing outside of this exact moment that your brain briefly flashed to was Andy. How he had never felt like this. Never given you this. In his own way, he too, had wanted to drain you dry and then he’d left you with nothing to show for it. His promise of forever had turned out to be empty. With Ransom, you knew that word meant something different. Meant something more. Something real.

Your mewls had turned into soft little chants of “Please,” and “Ransom,” over and over. As you reached your peak and were just about to go over it, he removed his mouth from you. You cried out in frustration and lifted your head just in time to see him turn his and sink his teeth into your thigh. You screamed at the pain. The way it mingled with the intense pleasure you were already experiencing, along with the constant fear you’d been in for the past weeks had you hurtling over the edge. You came harder than you ever had before, your body spasming through it, tears rushing down your face, wetness pooling between your legs. Ransom drank from you all through your orgasm and the aftershocks. As you were finally coming down, he released your thigh, quickly licking up the blood that had dripped down your leg. He reached up to your face and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact as he viciously bit into his own wrist. He brought his other hand to the back of your head, grasping it firmly, and then pushed his bloody wrist into your mouth. You flailed, instinctively trying to get away, but his hard grip wouldn’t let you move. You choked as his blood filled your mouth. Your eyes were wide, hands wildly trying to release his hold on you.

“Just drink,” his voice filled your consciousness. “Drink. Take it all, sweetheart.” At some point, your body gave in, no longer struggling, trying to dislodge him. You took what he gave you and swallowed. “Good girl,” he cooed as you continued to drink. “Good girl.” You grasped his wrist, latching on with your mouth, suddenly desperate for more. Blackness was gathering at the edges of your vision. It started gradually and then quickly overtook you. The last thing you heard before you slipped into the darkness was Ransom’s chuckle.

You gasped for breath as you rocketed up to a sitting position. You could hear everything. The birds on the roof of the house. The wind moving in the trees. The ants in the ground beneath you. You could feel everything. The hair on your arms, standing straight up. The grass growing in the ground. The electricity in the air. The one thing you couldn’t feel was your blood flowing through your veins. It was still. You knew it was. But something was pumping through you. Power. You gasped again to feel it. You could do anything now. You were sure of it. You’d been so weak before. But now. Now nothing could beat you. With that power was also the most intense hunger you’d ever felt. You needed something, right now. You needed everything. You needed to feed, you needed to fuck, you needed to drink.

A familiar chuckle interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to see Ransom standing above you. That mean smirk that was always on his face. “Oh little rabbit,” he said, “we are going to have so much fun.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, there's a follow-up! 💜

Don't Touch Me, I'm a Real Live Wire

#ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female reader #dark fic #knives out #ransom drysdale #horror fiction #chris evans fanfiction #navy and roo's sleepover #kris wrote something #fanfic #we are vain & we are blind

[angsthology]

“YOU CAN’T DISAPPOINT A PICTURE” — or an alt title: roo vs. jenson to roo and jenson

from the freezing act and disappearing act to no choice not to act (do i know what i meant? absolutely not.)

a/n yarg hey this is set on 2022 and the rest of 2023, after the events of the great (coming not so soon but im workin on it)

THE KANGAROO VS. THE WORLD

2022

it was her first points. her first points... ever in formula one. she was on… a different kind of high. nothing was going to ruin that moment for her. nothing except one.

as of right now, she was not noticing anything else besides the man in front of her—and even that was debatable.

this time, it was her turn to be catatonic.

daniel, who was one of the blokes lucky enough to witness what was currently happening in front of him could not help but laugh, well, he was putting his entire life into not laughing. but, well, it was hard not to.

he’s—no one, has ever seen her like this before.

she was usually so… either kept to herself or an absolute menace. there was really no in-between. but one for sure thing she always is was functional, even is the function is cracked up to a hundred or zero. so to see her malfunctioning was way funny for daniel.

daniel, still giving his entire life not to laugh, answers the question for her, “of course, she will! right, kid?”

at that, her blubbering stopped and her attention was fixed on the australian—that had betrayed her.

her mind was still reeling in—half present and half out of it, “i—yea—huh?” she looked towards daniel for… anything.

he didn’t respond with anything else and pulled on her race suit that was now unzipped and collecting around her waist down, her top half showing off the crimson-red fireproofs she wore underneath.

her mind was going faster than an rb19 and the next thing she knew she was sitting in the middle of a very fine world champion she was so ready to risk everything for and… and daniel ricciardo.

she was so in her own world, she failed to notice the former calling out her name.

oh my god, he knows my name, she thought.

she cleared her throat, posture changing feigning ‘professionalism’, “what was that?”

“congratulations on scoring your first points today!”

she blinked. she knew what he said. she was just… processing.

truly, she didn’t know how or why it happened or even what had happened at all but she somehow ended up in a finger guns position pointing at her long-time celebrity crush.

she stayed at the end position for quite a while. besides the sound of the track and every other surroundings, it was quiet. jenson was too stunned to speak; roo was berating herself in her head absolutely throwing every curse word in her head—if anyone were to read her mind right now, they would start crying from all the screams and cries of her own stupidity. daniel—now, daniel on the other hand; was having the time of his life. the dam had broken and he was now clutching his stomach besides the girl laughing his ass off.

his—very loud, very distracting—laugh paused her inner turmoil at herself and directed all towards him. her eyes were void of any emotions and her entire look was unpredictable. she narrowed her eyes at the australian before quickly fisting her hand out to hit the man right where he was clutching it, making him grunt in shock and eventually drop to the ground groaning—his laugh somehow still straining behind.

still in pain, from both his laughter and the hit, daniel managed between discomfort, “oh—you’re good, man, you’re good.”

her eyes were still trained down to the rolling australian, giving him her deadliest-calmest glare later on slowly look up to meet jenson’s; completely freezing in her spot once more with eyes wider than max’s winning gap as if his stare was one of medusa’s.

later on, she found herself in the haas—they stopped trying to get rid of her eventually—hospitality with mick sitting on one of the chairs and herself pacing around the room talking his ear off.

“i hate daniel! i hate him! i told him a million times! i never wanted to meet jenson in person! i just wanted a picture! i hate him so much!” she whined, stomping around the room dramatically.

eventually she sat herself down next to mick. not knowing how else to respond, he extended his hand and giving her a few pats on the shoulder.

“you know, he’s probably was very happy to see you too.” he tries.

“don’t.”

he raised both his hands in surrender.

it was an interesting sight to see: britney spears walking and talking with snoopy in the paddocks.

“i just think he’s neat, you know.” she explained with a shrug.

the older man chuckled with a shake of his head, “you do know you’re talking about a cartoon dog, right?”

she gasped, “rude. he is the cartoon dog.” with a hand over her heart, she then continues, “he’s more than that! he’s a pilot, an icon, and most importantly; a best friend.” she paused, remembering a detail she forgot to mention, “—to woodstock. i don’t care about charlie brown, that kid’s an idiot.”

nico made a contemplating face, “you’re so mean to him why—”

she was about to reply until she was cut off by a british accent that made her entire blood run cold and paralyze her nerves, eyes widening slightly—position permanently cemented to the ground where her body jerked to a stop.

“oh, hey, jense!” he greeted back, turning his attention and entire body away to face the blonde getting closer.

to her dismay, he waved the world champion over.

(what is that—what the hell?! I’M SWEATING BULLETS LIKE A FUCKING WATERFALL.)

he was getting closer.

(FUCK!—what do i do?)

closer.

“yeah, i was just here talking to—” nico said as jenson was in easier earshot, his hands already motioning to his side. just as he turned around the moment the brit arrived by his side, he was met with dust. besides that, no other evidence showed there was once a girl in an alfa romeo racing suit next to him. “wha—kid?” he looked around, “where’d she go?”

jenson frowned slightly, “ah. sorry about that, mate. most likely my fault.”

nico turned to him confused, “what?”

he shrugged sadly, “i don’t know. that kid is like allergic to me i think—never got any chance to properly talk to her.”

again nico put his thinking face on and after a good few conversations with himself in his head, his face cracked up with a smile.

he slapped jenson’s back and rest his hand there—shocking him in the process—“believe me, she doesn’t.”

end of 2023

she. was. done.

finally.

this year was definitely not her year and she was glad it was over.

during their final debrief mick was her pillar; she was on her last set of batteries and was about to shut down, the entire time she had her head resting on his shoulder half-asleep. he didn’t complain, thankfully—surprisingly none of her team either.

after they declared dismissed, she was so ready to be hauled—by who, she didn’t really know. but man she wished—back to her bed—did not matter which one but whichever the closest was—and pass out until the next season starts.

unfortunately, it was not that easy yet for her.

the only people left in the room was her, porsche’s team principal, his assistant, her head engineer, and... mikey.

now that she really thinks about it, she doesn’t really know what it is mikey does.

“you look rough.” the man started. “not wearing any makeup today?” he asked genuinely. he knew how much makeup therapy usually improves her mood, which is why it made sense to him seeing her so—gone.

“i am wearing makeup.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

he motioned for her to take a seat, and so she did.

the air was… unreadable. usually it’s pretty light with them, they loved her and she loves them. maybe it was the lack of mick in the room?

she was so tired, she didn’t care for the thick silence in the room, opting to just break it herself.

“am i getting sacked? are you going to make me burn my own contract?”

she was getting dangerous. tired roo means her defense systems are losing charge—if she was a drinker, this would be a glimpse of her in an honest drunk state.

no one really stopped her so her mouth just kept moving, “i mean, i wouldn’t be surprised after the year i had i was kinda shit—i’d be pretty sad, though. i love you guys. i love you,” she looked at her engineer, “i love you,” she looked to her personal trainer, “i love you,” to her team principal. and last but not least, “and i love you.” she looked slightly up at her team principal’s assistant that stood behind him.

“oh good grief, when the hell is he getting here?” the man in the middle whispered under his breath as he rubbed his forehead, in the background the driver still mindlessly listing all the people she loves.

“and i love that guy who always has chocolate for me—oh wait that’s mick again.”

“just got a text from jackie says they’re close.” whispered back mikey.

as if on cue, right after mikey locked his phone, the door opens—thankfully—stopping roo’s listing, catching all of their attentions.

she was still yapping when she turned to the door but came to an abrupt stop when she sees the person who walks in.

the man waved.

“oh no, it’s jenson button.” she says flatly—at this point it was like she was drugged with truth serum; her words held no emotions or feelings whatsoever, but everyone was sure it was all genuine.

she was about to turn back to her team when with no warnings, no wind, no signs, she was hit with a tsunami—not even joking. the moment her head turned her face was splashed with a bucket of cold water.

so. so. cold.

oh that definitely woke her up.

“WHAT THE FU—”

as if she hadn’t had enough thrown at her, a towel was draped over her head before she can finishing cursing out her team. (one, to dry her up and two, to shut her up.)

emerging from under her towel, she looked towards the three culprits’, eyes going from jenson button at the front of the room and back to them, “in front of jenson button?!” she scolded in a whisper.

“it humanizes you,” explained her team principal shortly.

she quieted. sucked in a breath and stare at him flatly, “die.”

mateo—her team principal—was unfazed by it, opting to ignore her comment instead and continue with the business they had originally set up for.

“now that you’re awake,” he started.

“whatever.” she rolled her eyes.

ignoring her, mateo continues, “i’m going to put this in simple words you’ll understand.”

“why do you hate me?”

“i know you don’t like to talk about… whatever the hell this year was, but one thing for sure, we—” he motioned towards himself, mikey, and olivia (her head engineer), “—decided it’d be good for you to have a manager.”

she stayed silent, blinking her thoughts in until she found her words;

“and he is… your best candidate?” she asked stiffly motioning to the british driver that she’s sure can kill her with a stare.

mateo looked anywhere but anyone, slightly dodging the question. he shrugged, “well.”

“seriously?!” commented the world champion. he rolled his eyes and made way to sit on the chair next to hers, slightly making the hair on her arms rise. “look, kid, i know it’s probably going to be hard for you to even be in the same room with me—but i promise, i would not be doing this if i weren’t sure of you. you are one of the best talents i’ve seen in my life and i think i could help you reach a lot more good things.”

she took in his words and she’d be lying if hearing all those things coming out of his mouth didn’t give her a type of sensation—butterflies in her stomach, warmness in her heart, and the burning tears building behind her eyes—and a surge of courageous in her veins.

she smiled, “no, i think you’re right. and, i mean, i’m in the same room as you right now and i’m all fine.”

after that, papers were signed and deals were made, and to her; the rest was history.

(including all her previously embarrassing moments.)

princess (mick) HSAZGFKJSDGS YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE i js died oh my god what did i do

te1enoviyuh 🎵 Simple Minds • Don't You (Forget About Me)

liked by f1porsche, atticusingh, and 4,476,928 others

tagged: jensonbutton

te1enoviyuh mischief not managed zzz

see all 487 comments.

roomcgrittle CONSTABLE REGGIE

buttoncunt JENSON????? kid r u even alive still

dunphyrrari did u fall asleep typing the caption

te1enoviyuh dunphyrrari okay thats funny u deserve a notice

dunphyrrari te1enoviyuh I WON

f1porsche Watch out (the rest of) 2024 they’re coming for you. 😉

selvnika i thought *i* was your manager...

te1enoviyuh selvnika if anything IM your manager. your around the clock arounf the world babysitter

sargeantist selvnika now hold on... back tf UP. WDYM MANAGER??

schupastry sargeantist JUST STAY CALM DO NOT MAKW ANY ASSUMPTIONS.

disneyprincemuke im just here for the ride tbh

bonus

mateo sighs at his phone, his employee no better than before she had management.

“do you ever regret this? ‘cause i do. —kinda.” commented the unlucky woman known as her pr manager (jackie.)

“who thought this was a good idea, again?”

being the self-aware king himself; mikey immediately choked on his water and quickly made his escape.

anyone noticed a cameo? not proofread | taglist; @treehouse-mouse @disneyprincemuke @yansbolobao @leilanixx @judespoision @vellicora @bborra @woozarts crossed out means i cant tag u

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one x reader #formula one #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x female reader #f1 smau #formula 1 smau #formula one smau #formula 1 x oc #tine’s roo vs the world #f1 x driver!reader #f1 x you #jenson button x reader

[vixenobrian]

Seeing Ghosts

This is the first fic I've written here, so I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader

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

"Bradley honey, I'm home!"

No answer.

I sighed, setting down the groceries on the island countertop. I knew he was home, the Bronco sitting in the driveway was a clear indication of that, but I also knew why I had received radio silence.

"How was Mav?" I asked, almost scared of the answer myself.

"Mav's fine hun." Bradley retorted. He must have been upstairs in the bedroom, hiding away from me. I understood how hard this must have been on him, but not seeing my husband run down the stairs and greet me with a kiss when I walked through the door still kind of hurt my feelings. Still, I knew how important his space was after his visits.

"How are you bubs?" I called back. Nothing.

Mav had been in and out of the hospital for months now, more and more parts of his body slowly giving way. For a man who wasn't supposed to live past his 30s, everyone was certainly surprised to see it was in fact old age that did him in. Recently though, it was his brain that was going, and this seemed to be the hardest on everyone.

Bradley had been struggling, badly. Between his parents and Ice, Mav was the only one he had left, and to see him slowly slipping away, losing both his body and mind at the same time? Bradley had barely been able to stand it. Each night he would come home after visiting, crawl into bed, and simply lay his head on my chest and cry. I really wasn't sure what else to do at this point, other than be there for him.

I sighed, grabbing the fancy bottle of wine I picked up from the grocery store, before heading upstairs. We both needed a pick me up, and what better way than a good wine, and a home-cooked meal.

"Roos, darling," I called, slightly pushing open the door to our bedroom. I vaguely caught a glimpse of his figure, but I pushed right past it, wanting to grab the things I knew he needed and was probably avoiding. When he got like this, he tended to neglect his medicine, and I knew if I took a glance at him, I would have too. I grabbed the bottle off of the bathroom counter, seeing it right next to his spread-out shaving kit. I pushed back into the bedroom, finally looking him in the eyes.

"Roos, I have a- oh God!"

Rooster sat on the edge of the bed, his big broad shoulders slumped over in defeat. I could tell he had been crying by the dark red circles around his eyes, but none of this is what concerned me. Above Rooster's top lip laid no mustache, something he had worn with pride for years. He always considered it his best feature and took meticulous care in grooming it. I had never even seen him without it. I knew something had to have been terribly wrong.

I sat down the wine on the dresser, my excitement fleeting with the bottle, before reaching for his face. I brought my legs over him, straddling his lap, before taking his face into both of my heads. Immediately, I began to wipe his tears, while simultaneously peppering kisses to his cheeks.

"Roos, honey, what happened?"

"He called me Nick again."

My heart sank, pulling him fully into my embrace. I felt tears start to fall from my own eyes and the boy beneath me began to sob, shaking in my embrace. His hands clenched the back of my shirt, as I attempted to comfort him in his sorrows.

"Bradley, I am so sorry," I said. I felt guilty. I felt anger toward Maverick, even though I knew none of it was his fault. Still, he had hurt Bradley, my Bradley, and the anger that came with that radiated through me. I took a deep breath, trying to push these emotions down.

"I just want him to see me" He whimpered into my shoulder. My hand found the nape of his neck, slowly playing with his hair there. It was his comfort spot, and I felt him slowly relax into me, letting all of his body weight fall freely as if we were being combined into one. I let him lay here for a few minutes, switching between playing with his hair and rubbing his back, before slowly backing away, and once again taking his face into my hands.

"Bradley, honey, I am so sorry that happened to you, but I need you to know, no matter what happens, Maverick loves you so much sweet boy," I comforted, "and on top of that, I love you so much. So no matter what, you are loved, Bradley."

He pulled me in the back of my neck, planting a sweet kiss right on my lips. The lack of hair felt foreign to me and caught me off guard. I pulled away, still holding his face in my hands, when I noticed his cheeks turning a color red.

"So, how bad is it?" He asked genuinely, causing me to chuckle.

"You are still the most handsome man in the world Bradshaw," I told him genuinely, "but how long before it grows back?"

#miles teller #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw fic #top gun rooster #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw #top gun: maverick #rooster top gun #top gun #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw angst

[melwilson]

flustered and bothered

bradley “rooster” bradshaw x f!reader

rooster can’t help being so attractive and you can’t help but to admire him.

bradley bradshaw was a sight for sore eyes. and most of the time, even before you started dating, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. it didn’t matter if he was cooking, working out, sleeping, or just simply talking- he was captivating like that. and he knew it.

whenever bradley walked into a room, he had your full attention. it was annoying really, how much he had you wrapped around his finger. people would point out his tan skin, or his whiskey colored eyes, or his smile, or his too tight wife beater that left little to the imagination. the physicality that was rooster bradshaw was enough to grab anyone’s attention, but for you it was his presence. knowing that roos was right there with you brought you peace you thought you would never have because of your association with the military.

however, his physical features did play a big part.

like right now.

you’re sitting in penny’s semi-crowded bar with pheonix as she gives you the inside scoop on this weeks edition of navy aviator gossip. you’re supposed to be listening because, truly, you love good drama. however, your pilot boyfriend looks too damn good. he’s at a table with fanboy and coyote, a beer of his own in his hand. he’s wearing one of his dad’s old tee shirts in that dark blue color that seemingly accentuates his tan. his aviators hang loosely on his wife beater, hair perfectly imperfect.

“y/n, you live with that man,” phoenix says in playful disgust. at the same time, your boyfriend sends you a sly smirk holding your gaze as he takes a drink of his beer. damn him. “you could be less obvious in how obsessed you are.”

you shoot the brunette a glare. “i’m not obsessed.”

she scoffs at that. “okay, you’re just overly committed to watching your boyfriend exist.”

you shake your head in disbelief looking over to see that rooster is no where to be found. maybe you are obsessed? “you’re unbelievable, phoenix.”

she smiles. “unbelievably making my exit.”

you furrow your eyebrows in confusion until a familiar pair of hands find your waist.

“ladies,” rooster greets.

“lieutenant bradshaw,” phoenix salutes. “needing a little aloe vera, now are we?” she gestures to the top of his chest, noticeably red.

rooster flips her off, one of which she returns happily before heading over to grab another drink. he spares no time stealing her seat and your attention.

“someone’s being not-so-subtle tonight,” he says tugging your stool between his legs.

you can’t help the embarrassed heat that crawls up your neck and makes your breath hitch. “stop being so damn fine.”

“you and i both know that is an impossible request.”

you groan in annoyance. “i know. i know. it’s just people keep saying i’m obsessed-“

“you are.”

“no, i’m not,” you argue. “i just- i just like admiring you.”

rooster chuckles, leaning over to kiss your pouted lips. “no one said it’s a bad thing, baby. i like having your eyes on me. and you wanna know what like more than that?”

you sigh, gaze on your intertwined fingers. “what?”

“having my eyes on you.”

you scoff, shoving the whiskey-eyed man away gently. “you’re such a flirt.”

“yeah, for you,” rooster teases, “i like getting you all flustered and bothered.”

you roll your eyes for seemingly the thousandth time in an hour. “i hate you.”

“you’re a terrible liar,” he replies standing to his feet. he moves between your legs, hands cupping either side of your jaw to tilt your head back to look at him. your hands instinctively find his waist, fingers gripping loosely at his shirt.

“i know,” you say under your breath. you take a moment to really look at him. his skin is glowing in the yellow bar light and he’s adorning that soft, goofy smile with a childlike glint in his eyes. his lips are a little chapped because he never wears the chapstick you buy him, but you know they’re still soft regardless. “you look really good right now, roos.”

he hums, thumb running along your jawline. “oh yeah?”

you nod tugging him closer. “you gonna stand here and keep teasing me or are you gonna kiss me?”

he shrugs weighing his options. “i don’t know…teasing you happens to be my favorite pastime.” he laughs when you respond with an impatient huff. “i’m kidding. kissing you is definitely my favorite pastime.”

“then prove it.”

so he does. he’s aware of his surroundings and the fact that his fleet is going to be making fun of him the next morning, but that doesn’t stop him from taking your breath away. he kisses you deeply, lips settling your impatience. when he pulls away, you kiss him once more. twice. three times.

and then he says, “just so you know, you make me all flustered and bothered too.”

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #top gun #miles teller top gun maverick #miles teller #miles teller x reader

[ddejavvu]

Rooster w a reader who helps penny at the bar on a really busy night and is a big hit with all the guys, much to Roosters dismay. One time after she is heading back from delivering drinks, a guy from a rowdy table that has been bothering her tries to shoot his shot and grabs her ass but she is having none of it and turns around to greet him with a HARD backhand to the face. Bonus points if the reader is typically super bubbly and flirty with everyone, so this behavior is unusual, and everyone just goes wild😭

Roo would definitely love to see her stick up for herself and the boys def be there to kick the guy out.

There's not even a full second between when the man's hand connects with your ass, and when your own connects with his face. There's two sharp cracks that silence all noise in the bar, and though the jukebox is still warbling, silence is thick and suffocating.

You seethe down at the man who'd recoiled from your touch, now clutching his face with his elbow leaned against the table he's sitting beside.

There's no indication of what had prompted you to slap him until you speak, teeth gritted as you somehow keep balance over your tray of drinks.

"If you ever try to grab my ass again, you won't have hands to try it a third time. Do you understand me?"

The man doesn't bother responding, but you take an empty beer bottle that he'd downed only minutes prior, flipping it upside down in your hold so that the mouth faces you, and the neck is securely in your grip.

"I am not above smashing this into your dick. Answer me. Do you understand?"

"Yes!" The man chokes out, legs squeezed tightly together and a hand over his crotch, "Yes, I understand."

You don't bother gracing him with any further attention, turning sharply away and chucking the empty bottle into a bin behind the counter. Its clatter is everyone's queue to get back to business as usual, and Bradley's already walking towards you when you turn to serve his table.

"Baby," He starts, but you plow past him, taking his hand in yours to drag him along with you.

"Not here," You spit through gritted teeth, "Meet me in the back room."

He follows your instructions to the letter when you drop his hand, quite possibly intimidated by your demeanor even though you'd have no urge to punish him with it. You set the tray down on the table that his squadron has gathered around, passing out drinks wordlessly as they stare.

"Good hit," Phoenix breaks the silence, and though irritation is still stewing just beneath the surface of your skin, you can't be upset with her.

You let your lips twist into a miniscule smirk, lifting barely on one side, "Thanks."

"Penny'll want him thrown overboard," Fanboy muses, "Can I do the honors?"

"I'll join," Jake drawls, and Bob volunteers as third.

"Alright," Your tight smirk fades into a weak smile, eyes downcast as bashfulness takes over, "Thanks, guys."

"Anytime." Payback claps you on the shoulder, thanking you for his drink, "Just stay away from my junk with that bottle, okay?"

"Don't grab my ass," You warn him through a chuckle, "I gotta go."

You take your leave with less anger boiling your insides, but you're still rightfully peeved when you meet Bradley in the supply closet.

"Baby," He tries again, and this time you let him take you by the hips, his worried eyes boring into yours, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," You insist, because the man's hand hadn't hurt as much as it had sickened you, "Just feel gross."

"I'm sorry," He hums, wrapping you in his arms and pointedly avoiding contact with your behind, in case you're more sensitive than you realize, "I'll throw him overboard if you want baby, just say the word."

"Fanboy, Hangman, and Bob are already on that," You admit, speaking into the black fabric adorning his shoulder, "I want you here."

"I'm here," He assures you with no further hesitation, letting you melt into his arms as he presses a kiss to your hairline, "I'm here, honey, you're safe with me."

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw oneshot #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader fanfiction #bradley bradshaw blurb #bradley bradshaw drabble #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster x you #rooster oneshot #rooster blurb #rooster drabble #rooster fanfiction #rooster x reader fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw oneshot #rooster angst #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fluff

[whohasthecards]

Hangman meets this Nick-Goose guy at the bar (not a joke)

Jake rested his chin on his cue stick as he stared curiously at the pair at the bar.

The famous Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson and some skinny blonde guy were hanging around. He never knew that the Admiral could smile. Sure, the guy was fair and respected all around the base, but he was stoic. He shrugged and went back to his game. 

By the time he sunk the 8-ball in, he looked up and the Admiral was gone. He handed the cue stick  to the next guy about to play and went up to the bar, knocking on the counter.

“Ma’am, a cold beer, please,” He said flashing Penny a smile, she rolled his eyes and handed him his drink.

“Stop calling me, ma’am, I’m not your commanding officer, Lieutenant,” Penny grouched before smiling.

“Aye aye, Captain,” Jake said flashing a wink and Penny rolled her eyes in response.

“Damn, Pen, not checking IDs, you’re getting sloppy or soft,” The mystery man said and Jake turned to get a better look at him.

He blinked before realizing that Roo-Roo Bradshaw was somewhere in the Pacific Ocean and a good 30 years younger than the man.

“Shut up, Nick, he’s a grown aviator,” Penny sniped back, hitting the man with a towel as he batted it away.

“Damn straight,” Jake said, taking a sip of his beer.

“Ahhh, so you are getting soft, you’ve always been soft around aviators,” Nick said, giving Jake a wink.

Penny blushed and gave Nick another hit with a towel before another customer called her away.

“Piss her off enough and you’ll get thrown overboard, even if I gotta do it alone,” Hangman said, flashing Nick a sharp grin.

Nick gave a low whistle, “Damn, son, no wonder she’s soft on ya, you probably remind her of me and the boys back in the day.”

Jake frowned at that.

“Nevermind that, I’m Nick or Goose, choose what you want,” Nick, Goose, said, reaching out his hand to shake.

“Jake,” He replied, shaking his hand, looking the guy up and down, seeing the grey on his temples. “You used to be an aviator?”

“Old men, can’t be on active duty?”

“The Navy would be too busy worrying about paying for your back pain.”

Goose honked out a laugh that made his callsign make sense.

“I was a backseater, RIO, then after I left I became a civilian flight instructor,” Goose said. “Single-seater?”

“Yep,” Jake said, finally deciding to sit down beside the older man. “Lucky guess?”

It was Jake’s turn to be scrutinized as he was looked up and down, “Nah, I just know the type, do you prefer Jake or Hangman?”

Jake’s lip twitched down before he settled on a blank mask. He used to have no shame regarding his callsign, so who gives a shit if he misspelled a couple words here and there. Until.

“All you do is leave good men hanging! Goddamn executioner of your own squad!”

“Hangman! Smoke in the ai-”

“Lieutenant Jacob “Hangman” Seresin, you did everything you could, dismissed.”

He took a deep breath that was more shaky than he’ll ever admit, “Jake’s good,” he said, flashing a smirk as he took another sip of his drink.

The older man’s eyes softened and he gave Jake a small smile.

“How about you?” Jake asked, realizing it was polite to reciprocate the question.

“Eh, either is fine, they’re both the same to me,” Nick said, shrugging. 

“Doesn’t Goose remind you of the thrill of being in a jet?” Jake asked, swirling his beer bottle around. 

“Nah, reminds me more of hanging around the boys,” Nick replied. “Still see them, but it ain’t the same as it used to be. Plus, I think I’ve had enough excitement for this life,” Nick said chuckling, leaning back and both men wincing as they heard his spine crack.

“You’re showing your age, old man,” Jake muttered, looking at him worriedly, wondering if he was about to keel over. “You hangin’ in there, gramps?”

Nick chuckled, “Not that old, brat, I have a son your age. He’s 27.”

“How old do you think I am?” 

“Hmmm, 21?”

Jake squawked in offense, “You’re actin’ like this my second time drinkin’ or somethin’!”

Nick raised a brow at him, “Is it not?”

Jake glared at him and all Goose saw was the same pout on his son’s face when he withheld the cookies from him.

“ ‘M 23,” Jake muttered.

“See? Not that far off, no need to get your feathers all ruffled, birdy,” Nick said, honking out a laugh.

Jake grumbled, but Goose could see the smile behind the sip of the beer bottle.

—

“Mav, did the Navy bio-engineer you and Ice’s DNA to create a son we don’t know about?” 

Mav paused, looking at his phone to check if this was Goose he was talking to. “Not that I know off,” he said slowly. “Why?”

“Kid, tall, blond hair, green eyes, naval aviator, technical flying style with some of your style, has your social skills too,” Goose added the last part thoughtfully. 

“Is that a compliment to the kid or an insult?”

“....Anyways, you made sure you don’t have some kid we don’t know about, right? Because if you gave me a nephew and didn’t make me his godfather I will ground you, no jets for a month.”

“Let me check with Ice.”

—

“Hello my sweet-precious-baby-mini-me,” Goose crowed to the phone as his son groaned on the other line.

“Dad, I am taller and bigger than you.”

“You still get your good looks from me, honey, how’s the deployment going?”

“The other pilots are shitheads, the amount of ego here is astounding.”

“Naval aviators,” Goose said, shrugging before realizing his son can’t see that. “There’s never a shortage of ego, say these pilots are younger than you?”

“Some of them are, some of them are older,” Bradley said slowly, wondering where this conversation was going.

“Good, you’ll have enough practice then.”

“Practice!? Practice for what!? Dad?”

“All good things come to those who wait, Brad-Brad.”

—

Hey gramps, I’m being’ deployed to Top Gun, Hard Deck?

Sure, Jakey

—

Gramps flew with pops? Goose and Maverick ejected. Goose got an honorable discharge. Holy shit.

Bradshaw was Nick’s son?

Is that why he was angry?

—

Hangman was face to face with Bradshaw, anger coursing through his veins. Doesn’t he understand? If they couldn’t fly like Maverick, they would all end up dead. Dead. 

Is he angry because of hop 31? Pissed on behalf of his Dad? But, Nick wasn’t angry at Pete, right?

You can find out.

“Come on, take a walk with me, son.”

No. Nick doesn’t deserve that.

“You have a family Bradshaw,” Jake said slowly, watching as Bradshaw’s hackles raised up even higher.

“Yeah, kid is simultaneously too hesitant and reckless at the same time, and I thought my wingman is the reason I’m gray…”

“You’re almost 60 gramps, that’s the reason why you’re gray.”

“Don’t let them lose you because you can’t think straight. Feelings ain’t matter here, not if you want to live,” Jake gritted out, shoulder checking the other man as he left the room.

—

They’re alive.

He saved them.

Thank fucking god because in all the hours he spent on stand-by in his jet, he still didn’t know what the fuck to say to Nick if he came back, but his brother and son didn’t.

A selfish part of him wondered if Nick would still care if they both died.

Probably not. Thank god he wasn’t a complete fuck up.

—

The celebration died down and he was walking back from his long-ass debrief. Getting reamed for launching without orders.

He felt his phone ping with a text.

Come over for dinner when you’re onshore.

Jake gave a small smile at that as he sent back a reply.

—

“Hangman! Hangman! Lieutenant Seresin! Jake!” 

It was the inverted version of Mav calling out for Rooster during that first day in the tarmac. Except Jake was already turning around once Mav said Lieutenant.

“Jesus, Mav, calm down, I hear ya, I ain’t goin’ anywhere yet, pops,” Jake said, raising his hands up as he flicked his toothpick to the side of his mouth. “Don’t stretch your legs too far tryin’ to keep up with me,'' Jake said, smirking.

Mav rolled his eyes upwards as he put his hands on his hips, as if asking god for patience. Heh. 

“I wasn’t able to talk to you one-on-one after the mission, kid, how are you?” Mav said, eyes softening as he looked at Jake up and down.

Jake felt self-conscious, as he straightened up instinctively, which was dumb because surely Mav wouldn’t notice that he was eating less. That he felt more tired each day. That he doesn’t know what kind of man he is.

“I’m fine, Mav, just thinking,” is all Jake could say.

“Don’t think too hard, kid, you might hurt yourself,” Mav said, giving Jake a smile, but there’s a glint in his eye that told him he meant it.

Mav’s an ace.

“Do you think about it, often?” Jake blurted out.

Mav furrowed his brow, “Think about what?”

Killing people.

No, not now.

“Nothing, nothing, sorry, pops, long day, just thinkin’ about how much the big bosses lectures on and on and on,” Hangman said, cringing at the babbling he just did.

Mav frowned, looking unconvinced, but gave a grin when command’s lectures were brought up, “I just learned to tune it out and forget. After you hear the first one, it all sounds the same, anyways.”

Jake barked a laugh at that, “You’re a menace, Mav.”

Mav grinned at Jake’s laugh, shoulders relaxing as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

“Anyways, I’m here to ask if you’re free tonight? My family and I are having dinner together and I want you to join in,” Mav said. “Some of the other Daggers will be there.”

He felt a pang of regret when he realized he’d have to decline, and it must have shown on his face, when Mav gave an understanding smile.

“Have plans, already, huh?”

“Yeah, a,” grandpa, family, mentor, father-figure-, “friend invited me for dinner, I haven’t seen him in a while, and yeah. I wanna hang out with ya pops and the squad, cross my heart, it’s just that I already got plans, and-”

Mav cut him off with a chuckle, “I get it, kid, don’t work yourself up, there will always be next time. Just promise me I won’t have to bail you out of jail tonight and you have fun.”

Jail with Nick? What a joke.

“Aye, Aye, Captain!” Jake said, giving Mav a salute, smirking as Mav shooed him away.

“Yeah, yeah, go on, brat, don’t cause trouble, you hear me!?”

“As if you can talk.”

—

Jake took a deep breath as he turned off the ignition of his truck, grabbing the beers he brought. He ain’t gonna come to a dinner empty handed, and Nick was more of a beer guy, rather than a wine guy.

He went up to the door and knocked.

“Hangman?”

“Mav?” Jake said, blinking his eyes in shock.

“Jakey! You made it, kiddo,” Nick greeted warmly, gently pushing Mav away to envelop Jake in a tight hug. Jake closed his eyes and leaned in, burying his eyes on the older man’s shoulder, trying to reciprocate the hug despite his hands being full.

“Here, let me take that from you, buddy, and you two can catch up for a little bit,” Mav said when Jake pulled away from the hug, taking the beer from his hands.

“It’s okay, pops–”

“How come Mav gets pops, but you call me gramps?” Nick said, pouting as he slung an arm around Jake’s shoulder.

“Because,” Jake said dumbly, still a bit shock at seeing Mav.

“Ahh forgot to tell ya I invited my former wingman, Mav and of course you’ve heard of my son, Brad-Brad,” Nick said leading Jake to the kitchen. “Some other guys will be coming, later, some of them are part of Mav’s squad.”

“We’re well-acquainted Goose, heck, the kid even told me he couldn’t come to hangout with us because he had plans with a friend,” Mav said grinning at the two of them.

“Awwww, so you do see me as a friend, huh, Jakey?” Goose cooed, ruffling Jake’s hair as Jake pushed him away.

“I didn’t know you were invitin’ me to the thing I was already invited to!” Jake protested, blushing.

“Hey Dad, where’s the— holy shit, Hangman, you came?” Bradshaw Jr. said, walking into the kitchen. “Mav said you said no, did something happen?” Rooster asked, furrowing his brow.

Jake finally had a side by side view of the two Bradshaw’s. Definitely related. Should have figured that out years ago. 

“Ohhh good that you’re here Brad, here’s the baby brother I promised you years ago,” Nick said, steering Jake by the shoulders to push him towards Bradley. “You’ll love him, play nice, okay?”

“That is a pain in my ass, grown-ass man,” Bradley said, blinking slowly as if he couldn’t understand what was happening. “How the hell did you two even meet?”

“Oh, I found him in a bar acting like a mixture of Mav and Ice and I just gotta keep him,” Nick said casually.

“Baby brother-?”

“Congratulations, you’re adopted, kid,” Mav said, taking a sip of his beer. “Wait til Ice sees you.”

“Ice?”

“Iceman,” Nick said. “Tom-Tom, Tommy, Tomcat, you will probably be calling him gramps.”

“I am not calling the COMPACFLT, gramps,” Jake said, jaw-dropping.

“No, you will be calling my brother, gramps, Jakey, plus they already expect it, they have heard many stories about you.”

“You talk about me to the Iceman!?” Jake said, his pitch rising an octave.

“And me, and everyone else, I was wondering why I haven’t heard about this aviator kid Goose here was talking about, started thinking he adopted an air force kid or something,” Mav said grinning. “He only really called you Jakey.”

“Or Jake-Jake, Jay, Baby J –” Bradley started, smirking at a flushing Jake.

“THAT’s enough,” Jake said, pushing at Bradley to cut him off, but Bradley just laughed.

“Boys enough. Bradley, stop teasing your brother. Jakey, no pushing,” Goose said wagging a finger at them.

“Yeah, yeah, dad,” Bradley said, rolling his eyes.

“Also, we need to make a custody contract, Goose, I want partial custody of these two,” Mav said looking way too serious as he pulled out a pen and a piece of paper.

“We need to wait for the other boys to show up first, I have a feeling Cyclone or Iceman would be calling dibs,” Goose said grinning.

“What?” Jake said, confused.

“It means, you’re stuck with us now, Jake-Jake,” Bradley said, ruffling the blond’s hair.

—

“You named your kid, Bradley Bradshaw?”

“I wanted a little Brad-Brad.”

#fanfic #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun fandom #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #pete maverick mitchell #mavdad #tom iceman kazansky #bradley rooster bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw #parental nick goose bradshaw #cyclone and ice and the other flyboys are dads here too #i just like the thought of Jake being adopted and be given love #bradley is gonna be a big brother in this one #jake hangman seresin needs a hug

[tobbotobbs]

Ghost and Soap with their little chef!husband. They tried to hide him from their work because he could get into trouble but how much can they do when he is such a lovely person that really wanted to surprise his husbands and their friends after an exhausting mission with a nice meal he cooked?

The Night Family Met Family

It was dark outside, the task force 141 had just came back from another mission. One that wasn't as exhausting as all the other missions they had been on in the last few months. Kyle was flying the chopper while Price was dpzing a little bit on the flight and John and Simon were sitting close to eachother while looking at Johnny's phone. They had been texting their sweet husband of 2 years that they were on their way back to the base right now, reassuring the worrying man that none of them, none of the other 141 boys had any bad injuries. Simon knew you it did little to calm your worries about their being, but he still told Johnny to tell you that they are alright. You always cared so much about them and the whole team, it was very sweet but also stressing you out sometimes. So telling you that they were fine except to a few cuts to calm your nerves should do till you could see them in person and check on them for your own reassurance. It wasn't long until the conversation on the phone turned from worried and thoughtful to cheesy and needy. Soap had started to text you how much you were missed in between his and Simon's arms and that it would be a hard night again, sleeping without their favourite person there next to them. Meanwhile you answered him with a lovely ,,But it's not long till we see us again my love!" and a lot of heart emojis. This made Ghost smile as he read the few words. It really wasn't long till he could hold you in his arms again. Only a few days before they all had a little time off of duty.

His thoughts were cut off by Gaz suddenly talking over the radio with them. ,,Guys we are back home! Tighten your seat belts please so we ain't having a repeat of last time I fell out of this thing", his voice was calm and a little teasing at the end, recounting on the time Ghost flew the helicopter and send Gaz flying out of it, for the second time. Price woke up from his little dozing off like he had a second sense for this, like a dad suddenly waking up when someone tries to get near the remote control while he "watched" something on tv. They all put on the seat belts and waited for the man to carefully land on the big H on the ground for helicopter. After finally getting out of the aircraft, they all made their way over to the barracks. All ready to go change and shower and then do something calmly for the rest of their free time before falling asleep. They all went into the showers nearly simultaneously and also went out again, drying themselves off and putting on the civilian clothes which mostly concluded a simple shirt and joggers or a too big hoodie from Ghost, in Johnny's case. They all were roo tired to notice that they weren't actually alone in the base. And that was something you found pretty amusing. Military men who are always on guard for anything but they simply didn't notice the lights being on in the kitchen while passing it in the hallway or the random car next to their cars. A car that belonged to none of them, not even Laswell.

They all made their way to the common room that was directly connected to the open kitchen when they suddenly noticed the strange atmosphere. ,,Wait...did one of you guys left the kitcheb lights on before we went showering?", their captain asked them curiously. ,,No sir, we all went right away through the halls, didn't even stop to take a piss", Soap answered laughing lightly. ,,Then who the hell is still up and in the god damn kitchen- and why does it smell like this person is cooking food?", Price asked, now a little annoyed that a rookie or someone was still up at this time, which it was 3 am in the morning at this point. They all shrugged at their captain and together they walked into the room. Kyle and Johnny were the first to stand in the room and look at the stranger standing in their kitchen, cooking some delicious smelling food while swinging to some scottish music none of them except for Soap understood. As Ghost entered he stopped right away. That wasn't just any music playing and any random person standing there and cooking, it was you. His and Johnny's sweet husband. You were cooking while playing soaps stupid scottish music playlist on spotify. Hearing them all enter you turned around and smiled softly at them. ,,Welcome back! I hope you don't mind, I cooked you guys something to eat! I just thought that maybe, after this long flight you lot would be a little hungry...?", you trailed of a little at the end. Getting nervous and scared at the way they were all just practically staring into your soul.

,,Who the hell are you?!", Prices voice was raised and he was ready to throw some punches if it was needed. ,,Wowowow! Uh I thought you knew- ah well it doesn't matter nlw does it? Uhm well let me introduce myself, since it seems my Husbands forgot to do so a long time ago", you carried on, seemingly a little displeased that neither Simon nor Johnny had ever talked about you to their friends. ,,I'm sorry- Husbands?", Kyle now asked completely confused. ,,Yes. Husbands. I am Y/n Riley MacTavish", you smiled, now softly again, at the two confused men in front of you. Relieved, John breathed out and turned around to his soldiers. ,,Now you muppets wanna tell me why this isn't in your files? Or didn't got mentioned anywhere. Ever. Hm?", like to scolded boys they seemed to try find the right words at Prices question. ,,Well you see, we requested Laswell to not tell anyone? Because we don't want him to get in danger so...for his own safety you could say?", Johnny found his voice first and tried to explain. Which seemed to be enough for Price. He nodded understanding and turned around again, smiling. ,,Well then let me thank you for cooking for us Sweetie. I'm sorry we didn't knoe who you were beforehand. It seemed those two muppets here care a lot about you lad", he talked in his typical fatherly voice and looked at what you had cooked for them. The whole room got more relaxed, now that Price approved of you and started putting some of the food onto a plate for himself to eat.

They all followed and started sitting and talking like the family they were. Price and Gaz were asking you a few questions about your relationship, how you guys met and since when those two idiots were married let alone in a relationship. You told them that you guys had met in scotland years ago, nearly more than a decade, because Johnny was introducing Simon to his family. Luckily enough you've been the nice cook in the diner they were all going to celebrate Johnny's and Simon's relationship. After accidentally bringing Simon the wrong food, you had scolded the waitress and went out to bring him his actual food himself. With that you had catched the brits eyes and also the scots, who wasn't ashamed to ask you out to a date with them right after that nice and very delightful dinner they had. Of course Johnny had seen the way Simon had looked at you. With longing and want. The same way he had looked at you. It was a little dance between you three for month. Always telling them that you liked them a lot, but never giving them a kiss. Not even on the cheek. You were making them go crazy with this innocent game you were playing. They knew that you dod this just to be 100% sure about everything but they couldn't deny the feeling of being played with because to be honest you had them at your mercy the second you laughed that beautiful loud laugh of yours on your second date because Simon had lost his ice cream while eating it and it fell onto his shirt. And just as they thought you were rejecting them for all, after 11 month of denying you finally kissed them both on your nearly one year anniversary. It shook them both. The two lf them were just laying on Soaps couch in his apartment in scotland when you came back from work, exhausted but happy nonetheless. Walking over to them and just giving them both a soft quick kiss on the lips before turning around and going to take a shower. And now, 10 years later, and 2 of them happily married, here you were. Finally meeting Simon's family and Johnny's second family.

Listening to this Price and Kyle smiled brightly. They were happy their friends had a family to come home to. And also such a lovely good cook as well. They spend the night talking tilm they all got tired, leaving them all going to bed. Johnny was yawning while walking hand in hand with you to Simon's and his room, Simon walking right behind them. When they got there it was quickly gotten rid of the clothes with exception for the shorts and they fell into the actual bigger bed that they had asked Price and Laswell to let them have so they could cuddle and sleep together in it. You were laying there in the middle of the bed, head on Johnny's bare chest and hugging him from the side while Simon was hugging you from behind, head in the back of your neck steadily breathing your scent in and relaxing more and more. You guys were exchanging a few love confessions till you one after one fell asleep in each others embrace. Happy to be together in each other's embrace, to be with your husbands and to be finally able to show each other love again, even if just for a short time.

Hey guys, it's been awhile! So sorry for that, have a lot going on right now sooo yeah. Here a little apology hehe

Damn I've got so much daddy issues in me I would give anything for Price to treat me like one of his idiot sons being in trouble tbh, also soapghost is just the sweetest what the hell????

Anyway, see you all next time, don't forget to reblog and have a good day <3

#male reader #x male reader #gay #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x male reader #male reader insert #cod x male reader #cod mwii #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x male reader #soap x male reader #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #simon riley x male reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #captain john price x male reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw x reader #cod mw x male reader #tobbotobbs is writing #simon ghost riley x male reader x johnny soap mactavish

[nunalastor]

I present unto thee this persistent thought:

Lilith is in Heaven. Not against her will, exactly, but because she needs to know more about Roo in order to protect those she loves. The problem is that what knowledge there is on Roo is limited.

Adam was collecting samples of her power during Exterminations for Lilith to study, but with him dead, the remaining Exorcists are unlikely to assist Lilith.

And now, thanks to Lute, Lilith has to return to Hell and sabotage Charlie's Hotel.

Great.

Only, there does seem to be a potential lead among Charlie's posse: that red deer, Alastor. He reeks of Roo's essence and though most wouldn't notice it, the Queen of Hell can see the chain (no, the barbed shadows) securely wrapped around his neck.

Lilith wasn't even aware before this point that Roo could own souls. Yet here Alastor was; property of Roo, supporting and manipulating Lilith's daughter, and violently flirting (or is that fighting?) with Lilith's husband.

An answer comprised entirely of questions.

Maybe she didn't need Heaven's help, after all.

Lilith also needs to have a talk with Lucifer. Whether they're actually dating yet or not, Lucifer needs to be made aware of two facts regarding his boyfriend. First, the thing that owns Alastor's soul is something that needs to be dealt with for the sake of all of Hell. Second, Lucifer is going to have to learn to share his boyfriend with his wife; Lilith is perfectly fine with their relationship so long as she's included, too.

(Alastor feels a chill run up his spine the next time he makes eye contact with Lilith.)

Charlie would also need to be informed of this development. She would be getting a third parent out of this, after all!

👀

#lilith #alastor #hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #nunalastor asks

[roo-bastmoon]

Let women speak

In my 44 years on this planet, I have lost count of the times a female voice was drowned out or suppressed right in front of me.

In the classroom.

In the locker room.

On the field.

In the workplace.

In the home.

Let women speak.

Let women discuss and analyze and react and soundboard ideas--particularly around how women are portrayed and represented in culture.

You don't have to agree with every take, but everyone gets a take.

Women are not monoliths and fandom is not a cult. We do not have to enforce positivity and consensus in everything.

Fandom online is a predominantly female space. If we cannot make room for women's voices here, then where?

Please don't shut them down by claiming they are "hysterical" or "overly sensitive." And don't infantilize women by calling them "babies" or "prudes" or "dumb bitches."

There's enough of that internalized misogyny out in the real world; we do not need to bring it into fandom spaces.

It's totally fine to disagree with someone's take and push back firmly (in a civil tone). Lend your voice to the discussion!

I say this with love, not anger, but the amount of "Just shut up if you don't like it! You have no say in what he chooses to do!" policing tactics I've seen in the last day or so makes me extremely worried.

No one is trying to control what men (or women or NBs) create. But we are reacting to it once it's released to the public. And that is our right, as consumers and as subjects of the work.

So, no. I will not shut up. I will not hold my tongue if I don't want to. "I am my mother's savage daughter--I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice."

Let women process things by talking about them in their safe spaces. And if you don't want to hear it, you leave. You block. You mute. Go make a space safe for you. No one is forcing you onto our blogs or into our tags. Okay?

Police your own experience, not women.

With sincerest respect,

Roo

#jungkook #3d by jungkook #jikook

[roosterforme]

How Do You Feel About the Parking Lot? (Rooster x Reader)

Part of The What If Collection of blurbs for Roo and Baby Girl. My masterlist. Banner by @mak-32

Warnings: language, drinking, angst, fluff

You were excited at first. Very excited. You showed off your ring to everyone and gushed over the fact that you were engaged. And while you were still wearing his mom's engagement ring, it was becoming obvious to Bradley that things were not quite as they should be.

"Hey," he said softly as he walked into the kitchen. It was exactly nine weeks ago that he'd proposed in the dining room and you'd happily accepted that ring that glittered on your finger right now. But tonight you just mumbled something at him without looking up from your computer where you sat at the island. It was nearly midnight on Friday, and he would have given anything for you to start planning this wedding with him. "Are you coming to bed soon? I thought we could talk about potential wedding dates."

"Oh," you replied without looking up at him. "I'm still putting this presentation together."

Bradley sighed. "Baby Girl, you've been working nonstop for weeks. I just want... a little bit of your time." He wanted a lot of things, actually. Like a long snuggle on the couch while you and he watched a movie, or a soak in the tub together. He'd love a blowjob or pinning your hands above your head while he slammed you into the bed. But mostly he'd love to plan his wedding to you, because more than anything, he wanted to get married this year. And it was already late September. 

You glanced up at him and adjusted your glasses. "How about tomorrow? I really need to get this done before my work trip."

"Sure," he whispered before pecking you on the cheek and heading off to climb into bed alone. 

But it only got worse from there. You worked all weekend. On Monday, you didn't come home until seven o'clock. Tuesday was eight o'clock. By Wednesday, he wasn't sure if you were even eating or sleeping any longer. And worse yet, you were leaving for Annapolis in a few days. Bradley wouldn't even see you for a week. Not that he really saw you now, he supposed. 

He ate a bowl of cereal for dinner before sinking down onto the couch with Tramp and a bottle of scotch. He turned on Real Housewives, but he wasn't really watching it. He took a sip, and it burned. But the next one didn't. And neither did the one after that. He started to feel better. But he'd stop when you got home. 

Another episode started, but it still wasn't holding his attention the way you would have, and that's when he realized it was once again seven o'clock, and you still weren't home. When his phone rang, he sloshed some of the alcohol onto his tee shirt reaching for it, and he was praying it was you calling to tell him you were on your way home. 

He pressed his lips together and then took a deep breath before he answered. "Hi, mom."

"Bradley! I haven't heard from the two of you in days! How's your lovely fiancée? And Tramp?"

The dog must have heard her voice through the phone, because he perked right up. But Bradley couldn't answer with anything other than a raspy, "Fine." 

The line went silent. "Are you sick? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, mom," he lied. "How are you? How's dad?"

"Well, I went to lunch with Brenda, and I got the scoop on all of her kids. And your dad needs hearing aids, but he keeps arguing with me about it. Maybe you can talk some sense into him, if he can even hear you."

"Okay," he replied, realizing the room had started spinning when he leaned back against the couch.

"Bradley, are you drunk?"

How could she possibly tell? His own wife-to-be couldn't seem to see what was going on, but Carole could tell by his voice from almost three thousand miles away. "I'm... fine, mom. I need to take Tramp for a walk. I love you and dad. Bye."

Then he ended the call, because he could feel tears in his eyes. And when you got home at nine, he was already asleep. 

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

You needed to go to happy hour with your boss and coworkers on Friday, but you really didn't want to. You'd been pulling twelve hour days, and you were so exhausted, you just wanted to climb into bed with Bradley and sleep until you left for Maryland on a Saturday night red eye flight. You also really needed to tell him that he had to lay off the wedding planning until you finished this work project. It was just a few months of all these extra hours, and you desperately wanted to be promoted. 

Your plan was to stop home quickly and change out of your uniform before heading back out with everyone to celebrate that fact that you were going to present your research at the Naval Academy. When you pulled into the driveway in your shitty, little red car, the Bronco was already there. But when you looked around the house for Bradley, you didn't immediately see him. But then you heard his voice through the open sliding glass door. He was sitting on the back patio in just his gym shorts with his back to the door and a half empty bottle of scotch set on his knee. 

His voice sounded miserable as he said, "I tried, mom. She just... doesn't seem to want to. I don't know what I did wrong." 

You froze in place. He had to be talking about you. Embarrassment and sadness filled you as you listened to what he said next. 

"I really wanted to get married this year."

You ran down the hallway to the bedroom as you fought off your tears. You had to get changed and go right now while you still could. In another week, you'd have a little more time to talk to him about the fact that you couldn't plan a wedding and get married in the next three months with your current schedule. 

You left the house again without talking to him, but he was still sitting on the patio on the phone. And when he dropped you off at the airport the following evening, he didn't seem to want to let you go as he whispered, "I love you, Sweetheart," and ran his thumb along your ring. 

"I love you too, Roo. I'll be home in a week, and then we can talk about maybe planning a wedding for next year?"

He swallowed hard and nodded. "If that's what you want."

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

When you landed in Maryland on Sunday morning, you were still exhausted and looking forward to crashing until your presentation on Monday. But Carole called you when you were at the baggage claim, and you knew you had to answer. A guilty feeling was about to eat you alive as you put on a bubbly voice and said, "Hi!"

"Have you arrived in Annapolis?" she asked straightaway, and you sighed because at least she didn't sound angry with you. 

"I did," you told her softly. "Still at the airport."

"Perfect," she replied. "I'll leave now, and I'll be there in less than fours hours, and we can go get lunch."

You were so stunned, you watched your bag go past without realizing you needed to pick it up. "You're going to drive up from Virginia?" you asked her slowly.

"Yes. I'm grabbing my keys right now. Bye, Goose! I'll be back later!" You listened to her call out to her husband, and then a few seconds later, you heard a door close and a car start. She was actually going to drive up here.

"Oh, okay," you muttered, pressing your lips together, embarrassed about where you'd left things with her son. "I'll... see you in a few hours."

You managed to take a short, restless nap while you waited for Carole to arrive. You changed into a simple dress and put on some makeup, but you didn't really feel any better until you met her at a restaurant in the city. She rushed down the sidewalk toward you with a bright smile on her face. "My sweet girl!" she called out, wrapping you up in a hug next to a few tables full of people enjoying their lunch outside. "It's been too long." She kissed your cheek and started to lead you inside. 

"Thanks for driving all the way up here," you told her, not bothering to fight the smile tugging your lips. She was absolute sunshine, and it was pointless to try to resist it. "You didn't have to do this."

"Nonsense," she said as the two of you made your way to a booth. "I wanted to see my future daughter-in-law."

You nodded and enjoyed some pleasant conversation. She told you all about Goose's appointment with an audiologist and about Brenda's kids. And after you finished your avocado toast and bowl of soup, she said, "Now, I think we should talk about what's really important."

Her voice wasn't unkind, and she was still smiling softly, but you knew what was coming as you whispered, "Okay."

Carole reached across the table and took your hand gently in hers. "I know you're smart and independent. And I also know that's part of why Bradley loves you so much. You don't need him. He's not offering you anything you can't get on your own or with someone else. You chose him, because you want him." Tears started to fill your eyes, and you had to swallow against the lump in your throat. "And he just wants you to be happy, so he would never tell you to your face that you're hurting him."

You tried to speak, but you just made a pathetic sound and started to sob. "I don't want to hurt him."

"I know you don't," she replied softly, squeezing your hand. "I know you're not trying to. But I think you need to tell him once and for all that you don't want to get married this year so he can finally get used to the idea of waiting a bit."

You buried your face in your free hand. Why were you trying to push it off anyway? It's not like you really cared where you got married or what the two of you were wearing. Planning some sort of huge celebration was not something you wanted to spend your time doing. You wanted to be with Bradley exactly as you were right now, just with two more rings and a certificate involved. 

When you looked up at Carole, you whispered, "I don't really think I actually want to wait. And I don't want you to hate me either."

"No," she gasped, standing and coming to sit next to your on your side of the booth. She kissed your tear streaked cheek and whispered, "I could never, my sweet darling girl. I think you just need to talk to Bradley, okay? Can you promise me you'll give him a few hours of your full attention? And maybe let him know how much he still means to you?"

"Yes," you croaked, and you let her hold you as you cried.

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

The week without you was kind of miserable. Bradley managed to dump the rest of the bottle of scotch at Carole's urging over the phone. And he did notice that she and Goose started calling with a bit more frequency which he didn't really mind. But the best part was that fact that you called him every night before you went to bed. 

Every time he answered your calls, his heart thundered in his chest. And as soon as he called you Sweetheart, he could practically hear you smiling through the phone. "I can't wait to pick you up on Friday," he said over and over. If he just felt like he mattered to you again, then he could wait until next year to get married. That was no big deal in the grand scheme of things.

But when he met you in baggage claim at San Diego International late on Friday night, he was so surprised, he could barely speak. You ran for him with a garment bag in your arms, but you let it fall to the floor when you reached him. "Roo," you moaned as soon as you were in his grasp. "I missed you so much." You kissed him deeply. "I just got off the phone with your mom again. And I didn't tell you before, but I went to see my friend Caleb a few days ago," you said as you smirked.

"The tattoo artist?" he asked as he kissed your cheek fifteen times. When you nodded he asked, "What's in the garment bag?"

"My wedding dress."

"Holy shit." He scooped it up off the floor and held it tight. "You bought a dress?" he asked, trying to hold you and the garment bag both to his chest at the same time.

"Yes," you told him matter-of-factly as you tugged him toward the exit while you kissed his lips. "How do you feel about getting married in the parking lot in two months?"

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

#if you ask emily #is it working for you? #roosterforme #b&bg #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x you

[swallowprettybird]

Hey! This question is from an anonymous..

Who inspires me?

Thank you for this question! I have so much to say 😍❤️

I have so many people's blogs that inspire me. Unfortunately, they won't all fit here, but there are so many wonderful people, know that you are wonderful! 🫶

Too many letters below in random order under the cut 👇

@bakersimmer inspired me so much with her story and legacy ❤️ I love her light and engaging writing and storytelling style ✍️

Saffron is just a cute little devil whom I love very much 😁 and Anselm.. keep your eyes peeled! ehhh my lovelies 😭❤️

Also, her style of screenshots and game seems to be my favorite on simblr ✨

@onestormeynight and Penny, Blair and Rosie life and them story, they're so so cute and warming my heart ☺️ I adore their story because it is full of family love and understanding, it is a wonderful portion of happiness every episode :з

@elderwisp your arts it's something magical!It inspires me a lot, I love this aesthetic, and it hits the heart 100%, your simstyle very fine and sm tasteful 🧡 and tesselate such a goooood story ohmhm my gosh so good 🤌

@youredreamingofroo i love your Roo universe hehe ❤️ I like to discover him every time learning details about his life and character, it seems as if he is another good friend of ours on Simblr 🤭 It's very inspiring to know own characters better too) And of course, I admire your renders, they are very beautiful and high quality!

@kuroashims and her beautiful blog dedicated to One Peece ❤️ 🧭 If you're like me and have never seen this anime, you'll want to know more about it after discover her page, and if you're a loyal fan, you'll love it even more! Her style is unique in its kind, you won't see anything like it in the sims. And the way she conveys emotions and feelings with just one picture without many words is just something beautiful. It is very inspiring. Elfy is also a wonderful person and a so kind warm friend. 🧝 Je t'aime, ma chère ☺️( btw your French vibe is very inspiring too 😍🤌 belle, incroyablement belle 💅🗼)

@changingplumbob and her amazing stories with amazing families. I love each of them. Kirsty plays the game with a huge and contagious passion. Each of her oc's is different and has its own story.

It's touch me and makes root for each character, through victories, mistakes, and life circumstances. She also has a great sense of humor! Her game sometimes throws up such funny situations! In general, Kirsty knows how to turn the usual gameplay into an exciting journey and I definitely recommend you to join. Also, I am very impressed with her playing style. And if I'm ever going to play a ts4 (as gameplay lmao), she'll definitely be the one to inspire me how.

@holocene-sims i love all about Grant and his life. This is such a vital and real, deep story. I love experiencing all the happy and poignant moments with him as well. His example teaches me not to give up and to live in spite of everything, and to be honest, the thought of this sometimes supported me in difficult moments.

I love talking with you about him and the family and about Junga, she's wonderful. 😇 I'm always looking forward to new episodes.

And Ana is my main inspiration for my main story. If you see a new episode of Cursed Chronicles, you should know that part of the gratitude lies with Ana. ❤️

@matchalovertrait and her beautiful lovely sunshine Noemi and her family ❤️ I will love them always 🥹 It seems to be the warmest, kindest and most loving legacy I know) I like to read it at least to recharge my batteries with this wonderful atmosphere and I immediately want to create something cute and wonderful ☺️

btw Dulce and Ángel has grown so charming!

@miralure your sims just incredible and i love your lookbooks ❤️🤌 You inspire me a lot to create and remade my sims and stand at the CAS like never before! looking forward to hearing new posts from you ☺️

@wistfulpoltergeist You have no idea how much I appreciate this person and his support from the very beginning of my blog❤️ Євгенку ну ти справжнє найсправжнє сонечко 🌞☺️🧡He is a real sunshine. And of course, I adore him both as a creator and a storyteller and as a dad/mom of two beautiful cats Aidan and Arvin 😁 this teo boys so lovely and hot 🤌🔥 і я сподіваюсь ще почути від тебе багато історій ☺️❤️

@aniraklova I think looking at her screenshots, you don't have to say anything, do you? This is an absolutely sky-high level of aesthetics 🤌💅 And I admired their work long before I started the blog, becouse all her cc and all art is something very very inspiring, she really inspired me to create some characters and recent cyberpictures :h Карі ти просто крейзі в найкращому значенні цього слова 😘🔥💋

@vermutandherring another wonderful creator who amazes me with her skill and beauty, It's just so gorgeous, this builds and scenes are incredible and everything I see there I dream of either seeing in my game or just admiring endlessly, so talented artist просто золоті руки 😍

@stellarfalls people who I may not follow much, but people who I consider my great inspirations, who make me want to move on, develop and improve my screenmake skills 🧡 at one time she impressed me a lot with her story&creations and I am still impressed, thank you friend ❤️

@aheathen-conceivably I've probably said it before, but you really do inspire me in a very real way, besides the fact that your dynasty is more than sims, it's a whole bunch and a storm of emotions, these are such real, well-developed characters, I almost cried a few times over some moments... for everyone who is not familiar with the dynasty of this wonderful author, I highly recommend you to read it) and besides, your work inspires me to write my own story too :з it really inspired me for some points of the sequel and thank you to your blog for that)

@circusjuney your style and story, are some of my favorites, and Ellie and Max are the ones I'm really rooting for and worried about ❤️ your blog is very inspiring to me in gґso many ways and makes me glad to be here on simblr ☺️✨🫶

@papermint-airplane I may not have known your blog for that long, but I get excited every time I read about Aiden and his friends again ❤️🫶 I really like your writing style, it's engaging, light and catchy, I love adventure, so it really inspires me to write. and I'd like to send you a special hug as a former fan of the TS3 hehe 🫂

I would also note @weirdosalike because I can't help but note that I am fascinated and obsessed by her story, which makes me just as passionate about creating something 😁

I almost forgot about @theosconfessions Scarlet is so gorgeous, you know what inspires me about your blog? your absolute passion for what you do!

.... oh okay i need a chapter 2 😣😖

There are many more authors whose work I am just getting to know, and I really like them ❤️ Sorry if I didn't mention you i love your blogs too 🥹🫶

#ask game

[kuni-is-daddy]

Hear me out- fluffy comfort sex with scara bc y/n's severe daddy issues are acting up and it gets rougher... idk ive just been fantasizing about this 🤭

"For me~"

Tw: daddy issues, Signals of depression.

Scaramouche x GN reader PUREE comfort! :)

1.3K Words

scara masterlistt wanderer comfort

Fluff+smut

MINORS DNI---

Please make sure your taking care of yourself! I might not know you but your a beautiful person inside out who deserves the best and an amazing life no matter your age. Either young or old, things will get better. Have faith in yourself ❤️ I hope scara helps you feel better here💜

Art credit!

Even though scaramouche has a interesting personality. I feel like he truly can relate to MANY people regarding their problems and that's why he's one of my, if not favorite genshin character.

He's on break from his most recent mission in inazuma and treats you out and catch up as another date. He brings you a couple of gifts and some dango he kept cold just for you. "I thought you weren't a fan of dango scara?" "I'm not but.. figured I might as well bring something sweet for you besides myself" you giggled but that soon turned into a sad expression while you played with the box of dango he handed to you. "What's wrong y/n?"

Unfortunately, hearing about what's going on with your father was the last thing he wished to hear. Your his everything and you getting treated or viewed as nothing is something that makes his skin boil.

"tsk, how about I teach that old man a lesson? Humans are all the same. Taking it out on others because they can't handle the fucking truth or their own shit life. Where is he?" Scaramouche stood up from the table and looked at his surroundings.

"S-scara baby please it's fine its fine.." he sits back down. "Being with you already makes my day a blessing." You cup his cheek and he sinks into your warm touch. Looking at your beautiful eyes. He sighs, "you don't deserve this y/n. And..I'm not going to be here all the time for you. Fuck...this is already pissing me off"

"I don't even fucking have a father, but if I did I sure as hell wouldn't let myself get pushed around like this." You frowned. "Hey. Look at me. Your not a push over okay? I-im just saying this isn't right. Your beautiful and deserve the world y/n. I'd give you all of teyvat in a heartbeat" which you assumed he could after seeing the 'Shouki no kami' he and 'the doctor' have been working on. "Is he always home and like this?" "Yeah.. it's just like this when I'm around... So I'd just find something to do to try and take my mind off if it but..it still hurts." He held your hand. "Its going to hurt my love, it hurt when my mom abandoned me as well. Leaving me alone, but you have to find hope. Be it something small or anything. The fatui was.. a revenge thing you can say but. I found hope within you to be different..even if I am still in it. For now." You blushed "wow kuni~ I never knew you could be so nice." And there went his ego, "I just tell it like it is. And like I said, you are beautiful my love. And you certainly are worth it. Every hour, every second and every breath I take by your side."

It grew silent for a couple of minutes. Scara got up and paced back and forth thinking of a way to help you, to make you understand he loves you. He knew that deep in your thoughts we're tragedy and pain, that you we're alone. And he didn't want you to feel how he felt when his life crumbled due to the stoned face of a god.

He wanted to hurt that man, make him regret it. But he knew that wasn't the right way. Sometimes violence isn't always the answer and he learned that from you. You we're the yin to his yang, the beat in his heart. He loved you more than anything and you guided him into the 'happy' man he is today more then anyone could ever hope to become.

He didn't take you home, rather to his own home. It was dark, black painted walls and only 1 or 2 pictures he took with his 'buddy, Childe' and the rest we're all pictures of you. Even in his room he had taped up letters you'd write to him during his abroad trips. "Look. Come here." He was a little stern but you can tell it was because he was angry at how you we're being treated. "You see all of this here? I read these everyday. When I wake up, to be reminded that I'll always have you y/n." He held your hands and sat on the bed while taking his hat off. "I want you too feel the same way, even with that piece of shi- 'annoying parent' around. You don't have to read my letters my love, but please. Stay strong. For me. And for the future we will have together, side by side. Always."

SMUT🤪

Scaramouche laid you onto the bed and let out a groan "god look at this beautiful body of yours. How dare you look at yourself like this.. your fucking beautiful" he rubbed his hands along your body and took licks around your neck "I'm gonna treat you well t'night baby. And tomorrow I'm going to ask that brat Childe to take the rest of my missions for a bit(months) love." "B-but scara then your going to be so busy after-" he kissed you to keep you quiet. "Mmm mmm.. don't worry about that, trust me you'd be surprised to see the things he'd do after I put on a show for him(scara means killing a buncha people. Childe loves that shit😩)

Scara moved down to your private part, licking and kissing it "Scara~ stopp..your tongue~"

"Want me to stop baby? I know you like it." "N-no" you said while rubbing through his hair "you feel so good~" he smirked. "Good you like it. How about my fingers, you want that to?" "Y-yes daddy..wanna feel your fingers." Scara licked at his fingers and put two inside. "Mmm your so tight around my fingers baby..." He took his other hand and held your leg up while biting at your thighs. "Scara~ please~ ah...hah...." biting and sucking on your thighs until you got a hicky "Yes? What does love want." "I- I want you inside." He stopped biting at you and laughed. "Mmm and here I thought you wanted me to be gentle. And cherish your body." "I-i do but... I want more of you scara" "then take what you want of me, my love"

"Oh fuck baby..L-look at you, bouncing on daddys cock so well." Scara's praises made your body heat up. You two interlocked hands as you chased your orgasm "Yes y/n..Fuck yes. i love you. I love you so fucking much, Please cum for me. Let me hear those beautiful moans." "S-SCARA~ OH sHIT~" You cum oozed onto scara as he kept praising you, "Mm..fuck baby you did so well..So fucking well.. lay down f' me." Your body grew weak as your high started to fade and he guided you to the otherside of the bed. Scara licked off some of your cum while cleaning you up. "Shit.. and you taste good too baby." You threw a pillow at him "You pervet-"

You awoke to your boyfriend soundly asleep next to you. Already in his fatui attire. "S-scara...Your still here" He ruffly opened his eyes. "Of course id be here dumass.. But i do have to leave in a bit.. Otherwise how else am i gonna get that ginger idiot to take my work for a bit." You we're shocked that he still committed to what he said earlier, You thought he was just speaking to boost you up but scara was serious about it. You gave him a hug. "Im so glad to have you in my life Kuni. I love you."

"My god, my mother, humans. They've all abandoned me. Because I was 'weak. Not good enough.' But now I understand my love, I don't need them. Or what they say... All I need and want is you. I want to wake up to your beautiful smile. I want while I'm away for you to be happy. So please keep trying, not for those that dismiss you like they've done me. But for yourself and me. I believe in and love you. Just the way you are and the person you strive to be. I love your kindness, the way you smiled even when you we're sad on our dango date and wake up everyday even if it's the bare minimum. Dont hide those emotions anymore my love, When your hurt, Fall in my arms. Please stay, don't listen to that old bastard or the pain in your heart. I love you and I will stay with you until the bitter end to pick you up. Just like you always did for me"

Ps: I will be home Early, Tomorow evening most likely. Apparently, childe sees me as his 'best friend' and is willing to help regardless. What a looser. Anyway, I have to prep up for the fatui's grand dinner. I hope you ate today my love, Farewell until then.

-Kunikuzushi.

#genshin smut #genshin headcanons #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin scenarios #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #scaramouche smut #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scara x y/n #scara x you #scara x reader #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #kunikizushi

[angsthology]

“so much for identity keeping” — or an alt title: roo’s nighttime job

the grid caught roo in a different light, holding a different kind of instrument

a/n the title’s a bit ambiguous but bare with it 😭😭 (bare?? bear?? which one is it i genuinely dk)

thinking back, this is pretty bad so im sorry for that. still trying to get my mojo back.

THE KANGAROO(KIE) VS THE WORLD

“you think she actually hates us?”

the group of men were currently out and about exploring the night life. though, this time they decided to switch things up a little. instead of their usual glamorous clubs, they decided to go somewhere that offered live music. seb described it as ‘a change of pace’ and in return, lando said that his ‘age is getting to him’ (behind his back, that is).

the entire grid was there as they were all invited — except one.

“what? c’mon, why not?” lando made an expression of offense.

“not tonight. any other night is fine, but i already have plans. sorry, lan.” she shrugged before walking away towards where her car was parked.

that didn’t stop him from following her, though. the curly-haired brit fell in step right behind the shorter girl to—well, truthfully, beg.

“it’ll be fun!” he reasoned.

shaking her head, she stopped mid-step and faced the brunette, making him stop abruptly too.

“i’m sure it will. but i’ve had this plan since way before you probably planned yours.”

he pouted. she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his attempt.

“next time, lan. i promise.”

remembering the conversation had lando still coated with bitterness. “not surprised if she does.”

max couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s bitterness. he tapped his back (to which surprised lando), “no she don’t. i’m sure she has her reasons.”

as if on cue, suddenly they hear a familiar voice booming through the speakers.

the men’s heads never turned so quick before.

“oh mY GO—”

max was quick to snap his hand over lando’s mouth. and, on cue, not a moment too soon—

“EW!”

the dutch man immediately removed his hand off of lando’s mouth and wiped it on the british driver’s clothes, all the while holding an (overdramatic) expression of disgust.

he glared at the man and continued to talk (grumble), “if she didn’t tell you — or any of us, for that matter. she probably has her reasons.”

lando blinked. “okay? so?”

“so…” daniel walked up behind his teammate and rested his hands on both sides of his shoulders, “we should sit back, quietly, and watch.” he paused, lando still thinking with furrowed brows, “she doesn’t have to know.”

lando’s face brighten up as he finally catched up. “ah, i see.”

“but don’t you guys think—”

immediately, the older german man stopped his miniature, “don’t even try, mick. you know it won’t work.”

mick was about to say something else when he was suddenly cut off by lando shushing everyone. eventually he gave up trying to reason with anyone and sat down (in the dark, might i add) with everyone else as the stage lightings start to turn on.

there on the stage stood roo on the (audience’s) right holding a sticker-drowned plain white bass guitar. on center-stage stood roo’s friend they knew as daisy-mae holding her own red and white guitar along with an unfamiliar face sitting behind the drums.

everyone was surprised to see the stage lights turn on to a bright neon pink-haired roo rather than her usual hair color.

she wore a sleeveless white top with a big star design in the middle of her chest and a leather skirt paired with a pair of black thigh-high boots.

“interesting…” muttered lando with his chin resting on his interlaced hands. all the while the younger german driver across him tilted his head in an unreadable expression.

next thing they knew a tune starts to play and to their surprise, the once alfa romeo driver turned band geek leaned in the microphone, “angel… with a gun in your hand…”

their jaws dropped at the sound of her voice.

“she can sing…?”

“…she has a life outside of driving?!”

everyone’s heads immediately to the young aston martin driver, all with the same judging expression.

at that, the canadian immediately jumped ahead to defend himself. “what? she’s new! that’s how i thought of all of you when we all first met!” he said defensively with his hands (and voice) going up.

but, in truth was, no one really knew who she was. the closest thing they’ve figured out about her personal life was daisy-mae. and she was way more quiet about it than roo.

compared to the rest of the grid, she was probably the most private person yet. they seem to know so much about her yet also none at all. whether it was because she was new and still hadn’t warmed up to them like that yet or that’s just the way she is and they just haven’t gotten used to it yet. they—the media—would often compare her to kimi but that would just be wrong considering they’re nothing alike besides being tight-lipped.

watching her in another element was a new and interesting experience for them. very interesting. some might even be confident enough to bet it against her racing career.

with furrowed brows, carlos whispers to his teammate, “you think she would ever leave racing for this?”

“we’re not that lucky, mate.” charles mumbled, then shrugging, “plus you’d actually think she would leave mick?”

their moment of entertainment and amazement was cut short when she followed along the lyrics that escaped her lips.

“go on, replace me… when you’re cravin’ something sweeter than the words i left in your mouth… go on and spit me out.”

she. was. shameless.

it was almost as if the girl on that stage was not the same girl they drove on the track with, the same girl they do press conferences with, the same girl that was their co-worker and on-track rival.

that theory only furthermored when she switched instruments with daisy-mae and took over the entire stage with her presence, rocking her own solo riff.

they were seriously doubting this was the same girl as the kangaroo’s grid.

when the last notes were strung and the music died down, the girl walked over to the mic stand that once was occupied by her friend.

she started, “hi, everyone.” she was slightly out of breath — not surprise there — “we are: talking excessively. i’m your bassist slash occasional guitarist: autumn rolfe,”

the men collectively furrowed their brows in confusion, sharing glances with each other with words unspoken.

sure they doubted the rockstar was their co-worker and friend but they knew for sure it was roo. and that was not her name.

“joined by my beloveds—camellia gray,”— she pointed at daisy-mae —“on the guitar holding my bass, and finally our drummer rocky dilltogas.” she pointed at the unfamiliar new character — probably not his real name either after seeing a certain pattern.

strumming a few strings, the girl then continue speaking, “for this next song… i’ve begged and begged dai– cami for so long for us to perform this song. lucky yous, this was the night she finally agreed.” she smiles as she exchange instruments with daisy-mae—or ‘camellia gray’ as she said—once more.

then, an all-familiar tune starts playing. one that completely confirmed her identity.

“stacy, can i come over after school?”

a couple of more songs later (all the while the group of men continue to question their judgement) and the band bid their farewell after finishing their last song.

it was the three past rookies to show themselves — under the light that the girl would definitely notice them.

they saw as the blood draining from her face when she noticed their giggling faces. oh how she hated those three.

roo immediately said an awkward ‘thank you’ hurriedly and basically sprinted off to the backstage, leaving her two bandmates in confusion.

that is, until her best friend spotted the three giggling men. they waved at her happily, feigning innocence as her face dropped knowing exactly that they were the reason.

behind the stage, roo was still in shock, standing like she’s seen a ghost until her bandmates walked over to her.

daisy-mae was the first to walk over to her, a hand on her friend’s shoulder, “it’s fine.”

“i’m going to kill them.” she replied, her expression unmoved.

“i mean that’s one way to do it—”

“what happened?” asked the drummer.

before any of them could explain to him, they were interrupted by said explanation as they all approached them.

her face was almost in a permanent expression, hardening when she saw the three demons that held complete malice in their eyes when instead she was surprised with showers of compliments by her older co-workers.

but still, that didn’t stop the rest from existing and taking the big chance of absolutely mess with her. they would never give up the opportunity to pull a reaction from roo.

“so, autumn rolfe, was it?” george smiled happily with his arms crossed.

“shut up.”

“i think i’m co-workers with your sister: spring.” snickered alex.

“funny. anythin’ else?” she deadpanned.

“yeah—”

but before the mclaren driver could say anything, roo had already had her fingers clasped on his ear—cutting off his shits and giggles.

“what the hell! i haven’t said anything, why didn’t you do it when these guys were talkin’!” he complained.

“you’re the nearest one.”

“you and i are exactly the same distance as you and alex!”

“yeah, but he’s a whole electric pole, you’re a gremlin.”

“just say you hate me the most.”

“i hate you the most.”

he rolls his eyes, grumbling, “you’re not my favorite either.”

“lying? really? you know that’s my thing, right?”

their bantering was interrupted when roo heard her name being called. she turned around to see her bandmates standing behind her with another new presence with them.

her eyes widen and quickly let go of lando’s ear, running off to her friends.

“everyone! since i no longer have any form of privacy, i’d like to introduce you to my friends.” the drivers all crowded the group of four. “you guys know daisy-mae,” said girl waved and a string of familiar ‘hi’s and ‘hello’s greeted her, “this here is atticus,” the boy they recognized as the drummer smiled politely at them. roo then looked at the new girl standing beside daisy-mae, “and uh, this is nika, don’t know when or how she got here.”

“but she’s happy i’m here.” said girl stated happily with a giddy smile.

“sure.”

at her monotonous voice, nika’s smile dropped, rolling her eyes.

everyone then slowly dropped the topic and went on their own as another band take over the stage with their more upbeat dance worthy music.

she was left was now only left with alex, george, and lando. she sighed.

“anything else?”

george shrugged, “but seriously, i think it was pretty cool.”

the girl couldn’t help but feel the heat rushing to her face, she never expected a compliment coming out of his mouth.

“oh. uh, thanks?”

“i mean, by the looks of you i had a feeling you have some sort of hannah montana-esque secret somewhere.” alex mentioned, only making roo’s eyes furrow. “that was a compliment.” he clarified after seeing the look on her face.

then, lando leaned over to her and whispered in her ear, “don’t tell her this but i always thought she was really cool, this was just an upgrade.”

confused, again, roo turned to a goofy-grinning lando with her right brow raised. alex caught her attention when started again, “he’s had a few drinks.”

“well. we’ll see you on the dance floor, i’m assuming?” george asked, sipping from the drink in his hand.

she nodded as the three went on, lando lingered behind with her.

“guess you did ended up goin’ out with us after all!” he said before leaving her with a smile mumbling a ‘yeah’.

roo was about to follow behind him when a certain spanish driver approached her, putting his arm around her frame. he took a sip from his drink before speaking as they walked together towards the bar.

“ever think of performing at birthday parties?”

“whose?”

“mine.”

“your birthday’s passed, nando.”

“incase you didn’t know, they’re a yearly thing.”

she chuckled, “sure thing, pop.”

“oh, and nice hair, by the way.”

“thanks.”

taglist; @treehouse-mouse @disneyprincemuke @yansbolobao @leilanixx @judespoision @vellicora @bborra lemme know what ya think 🥰 & tell me if u want to be added

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one x reader #formula one #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 x oc #tine’s roo vs the world

[solar-wing]

⚣ Cocky Bastard 😡

⚣😡 A/N → My first Hal Jordan post from my previous account. Conner and Hal fics in the works including the third installment for Primal. Since I revamped the first two parts (especially the second), I pretty much had to re-do the entire piece from beginning to end. So that's why it's been taking a little bit longer than usual but it's coming. Anyway, thank you guys for 100 followers and as promised, those fics are coming. WARNINGS: Dub-Con. Coercion, Implied Jealousy, Slight Harassment, etc. Full NSFW version will be posted to Patreon and AO3.

⚣😡 Prompts Used → @cursedspaceofair – "You know you love me." @thelonelyempath – #7 "Be a good boy and swallow for me."

⚣😡 Summary → Hal Jordan has been an annoying little pest and a thorn in your side ever since you joined the Justice League. His over-inflated ego pushes you to avoid him as much as possible, which in turn, only makes the superhero pester you more. So, how do you succeed in getting the cocky bastard to leave you alone?

⚣😡 Words → 2.2k

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💚

⚣ ENJOY 😡

You’d had it up to fucking here with Hal fucking Jordan, the cocky bastard.

Ever since you joined the Justice League, Hal made it his fucking mission to get on your last nerve. Going out of his way with all types of crazy antics to annoy you and get your attention. 

And why was he doing it in the first place?

Cause the fucker didn’t have a life, obviously, and just loved messing with yours!

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Superman said while you and he were walking down the hallway after getting out of a meeting.

You joined the Justice League a little under six months ago after your involvement in helping to prevent the world and reality itself from collapsing on itself. Superman, Batman, Flash, Wonder Woman, and others were impressed with your capabilities, and they recruited you into the organization almost immediately. The pure excitement you felt after being invited into the superhero community was unmatched by anything else you had ever felt.

Upon your initiation and induction into the group of crime fighters, they let you create your own superhero alias and supplied you with your own suit that attuned to your abilities. Apparently, they had a guy who specialized in making suits for heroes, so you were excited to see what he came up with.

All your new comrades were super friendly and welcoming. If you had fanboyed a bit when you met some of your favorite heroes, they gave you the grace of pretending they didn’t notice. Of course, not everyone was open upon the first meeting, but you still got along with them just fine, keeping everything cordial and as professional as possible.

Then, you met Hal.

“You the new recruit?” Hal asked, approaching you in the hallway while taking a break from one of your training sessions with Black Canary.

“Yep, that’s me! You must be Green Lantern. It’s good to meet you. I’m a big fan of your work.” You said with a smile while holding your hand out for a handshake. The green-masked man only smirked back at you, not acknowledging your outreached hand while placing his own on his hips in a semi-pose.

“Of course, why wouldn’t you be?” He replied, the cocky look on his face not doing much to help his first impression on you.

You slowly put your hand down, realizing you were only embarrassing yourself by keeping it up, waiting for him to return your gesture. When you figured there was nothing else to say, you started to make your way back inside the training room.

“Let me know if you want any pointers on combat. I saw you training there, and no offense, but you definitely could use my help.”

The way your body immediately came to a screeching halt was almost comical. You turned around to see him still looking behind you, only now he was dusting and shining his ring. Holding in your temper and the less-than-holy words at the tip of your tongue, you just gave him a nod in return. “Will do.”

You continued into the training room, quickly moving before he could say something else that would piss you off. Black Canary noticed a little more aggression in your combat after that and asked about it, and only had one response in mind.

“I hate cocky bastards.”

Anyways, back to you and Big Blue.

“No, Superman, it really is that bad. I swear I’m this close to punching the dickwad in his dick.” You fumed, barely holding yourself back from creating a hole in the wall.

“Well, what has he done?” The Kryptonian asked.

“What hasn’t he done?!” You exclaimed.

It was true. And though the Kryptonian was feigning ignorance, he could clearly see his comrade in green was purposely going out of his way to irritate the Justice League’s newest member. He wasn’t doing anything to hide it, either. Batman had to say something to get him to lay off for a bit, but this was Hal Jordan we were talking about. When does this guy ever listen to anything that’s not the sound of his own fucking voice?

No, seriously. The dude’s got a thing for hearing his own voice. Cyborg found a folder of voice recordings on his phone of Hal boasting about himself, saying some of the most outrageous things making him seem like the god of all heroes. You’d definitely be holding on to that for blackmail if it got to that point, and knowing this fucker, it would.

First, it was the snarky comments on every little thing you did.

“Wow, the way you just sat there and took that beating. Next time, just call me for help since you obviously need it.”

He almost got slapped for that.

“Seriously, a child could disarm a bomb better than you did. You’re lucky I was here to shield you. Guess that means you owe me one.”

He was really just asking for it at this point.

“Wow, you really must be desperate. You know, just cause most of us do wear skin-tight clothing for our suits doesn’t mean we go around just trying to show our butt to every guy that walks by unless you’re Nightwing. But either way, Superman’s not going to fuck you just cause you’ve got a fat ass.”

Somehow, everyone knew it was you, turning their gazes in your direction when Hal walked into the tactical meeting with a bloody nose and a big purple bruise on his cheek.

But you’d think Hal getting his shit rocked would get him to start backing off and leaving you alone. Again, this was Hal fucking Jordan we were talking about. The man couldn’t recognize a back-off warning if it punched him in the face. Which, you did…hard.

Apparently, that was all he needed to turn up his asshole behavior to another level. 

You’d swear this man was a teenager in high school. He’d hide stuff like your phone or civilian clothes around the Watchtower when you were in the showers after a training session or workout. Always going out of his way to one-up you on missions, proving his ‘superiority’ over you. He took your suit and dyed it your least favorite color (how he knew that was a mystery), making you the posterboard joke of the League for a week until they could get the dye out.

All because you commented how Batman would have a better chance in a fight against Superman than him because he took time to study his opponent and used whatever resources he had on him or around him while Hal was too busy living up his own ass to remember to charge his ring sometimes.

You’d even brought up how Hal got his ass handed to him twice in under five minutes when he met Superman for the first time during the Darkseid invasion.

It was a fair point!

“Okay, I get it. You’re upset. But Hal has actually been quiet lately, hasn’t he?” Clark stated, trying to find a middle ground. He’d been hoping you two would have found a resolution by now while the others made bets on when you would snap and who’d be the victor in the fight that surely would never happen.

Yeah, no. This was more entertaining than some of the missions they went on.

Though, your comrades, including Clark, were not aware of something. Why you were so mad right now was also tied to the reason Hal had calmed down in his routine of making your life hell in front of everyone. Now, he was doing it behind closed doors.

It was last week. You were in the command center, studying over some paperwork Batman assigned to you so you could understand protocols and codes more. It was quiet in the Watchtower, considering most of the heroes were either off on a mission or doing whatever they do in their personal lives. The quiet was enjoyable, or at least it was until a certain brown-haired pest came and disturbed your peace.

You did your best to ignore him, but the motherfucker was persistent. At one point, he’d grabbed the papers you were reading and held them away from you when you tried to get them back. He laughed at the frustration on your face making your fist twitchy again to re-introduce itself to his cheek.

“Hal, give me back those files. I need to finish reading over them before tomorrow.” You demanded, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Aw, does the little rookie have to finish his homework, or Daddy Batman might ground him?” He mocked you in a baby voice. You eyed the papers he kept trapped in a green bubble, moving them away from you anytime you got too close.

The sixth or seventh time he yanked it out of your grip, you were seriously ready to murder this man.

“Oh my god, why are you so insufferable!? What do I have to do to get you to leave me alone?” You snapped.

“You know you love me. Though, it’s hard for me to tell since you’re always spending so much time with Superman and never actually pay any attention to me.” He replied.

You couldn’t believe your ears, “Are you fucking kidding me? You constantly fuck with and annoy me just because you want attention?”

“That’s what I just said, didn’t I?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to hold on to the #1 rule Batman taught you about not killing. Though it wasn’t really working at this moment.

“Hal, have you ever once considered that maybe I don’t want to be around you because all you do is talk about yourself or find ways to insult and degrade others because you’ve got an ego the size of the galaxy?”

“Yes. But, in my defense, I’m horribly insensitive.” He stated with an indifferent expression.

At least he was aware of it.

“Oh, my god. Fine, whatever. If I spend the next ten minutes with you doing whatever you want, will you leave me in peace for the rest of the night?”

His eyebrows shot up in an intrigued manner.

“Whatever I want?” He asked, clarifying your statement.

You nodded your head but suddenly felt like you should have just turned around and left the room when you saw the smile on his face.

“Deal.” He said, holding his hand out for a handshake.

Oh, now he wants to shake hands.

You grasped his gloved hand, feeling the fitness from his grip. You also felt his thumb tracing up the back of your own hand, but you decided to ignore that.

“Alright. Now, what do you want?” You asked after releasing your hand from his.

Without saying anything, he walked around you and sat at the long table, turning around in the swivel seat with his legs open.

“Get on your knees.” He ordered.

Now, your own eyebrows were shooting up.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, get on your knees,” He repeated, the cocky smirk returning to his face, “You’re gonna suck my dick.”

“I’m sorry, do you want me to punch you again?”

“No, I want my dick sucked. Am I not being clear enough? Put your lips around my penis and suck it.”

“Are you actually being serious right now?”

“You said whatever I wanted. Well, this is what I want. Now will you honor that, or will Batman have to hear about your failure in doing your assigned reading?” He said, a cheeky expression in his look towards you.

You considered just walking out the door. But, you also knew Batman would only assign you more reading to do on top of extra training if you didn’t finish this by the morning. So, you swallowed your pride and moved in front of the masked man, getting on your knees.

“That’s a good boy.” He smiled, looking down at you with leering eyes as you began to pull down his pants. You didn’t know you could even do that with his suit. You thought it was all just one piece since it would fully come on or off depending on if he had his ring on or not.

This bastard.

After that, Hal made it his mission to keep pestering you whenever you were busy in hopes he could get another blowjob. Though, it did help in keeping him out of your hair for the most part. Only, he still got extra aggressive a couple of times whenever he knew you were with Superman or even mentioned his name.

“Y/N!” Clark yelled, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Huh?” You asked, coming back to reality.

“I said Hal’s been quiet recently, hasn’t he? He’s been leaving you alone, right?” The Kryptonian asked.

Before you could answer, you looked down the hallway and saw a familiar green mask staring at you. That same dark expression in his eyes, staring at you and the blue and red-clad superhero next to you as you two were talking. Was he there the entire time? 

Before Superman could notice him, he walked around the corner, but not before stopping to grab his crotch, shaking it at you before heading around the corner. You could expect a visit from him later on.

You turned back to Clark, not sure why you were about to lie for this man.

“Yeah, no. He’s been leaving me alone. He’s still a cocky bastard, though.”

☀️ | Hal Jordan/Green Lantern | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

NSFW Version (Patreon)

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