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awaywith-thefaeries · 1 year

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YOU MIGHT WANT TO STEP ASIDE | j.seresin

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x floyd!reader

summary: two times your boyfriend and twin brother had to stand up for you, and the one time you shocked them by doing it yourself

warnings: anxiety, shy reader, protective Hangman, protective Bob, insecure reader, self doubt.

a/n: this idea came about when @cherieann-2001 and I were discussing the dagger squad with twin siblings, and we came up with Bob’s twin sis. @cherieann-2001 i’m sorry this took me so long! I hope you like 😊.

word count: 4K

masterlist

the time where your brother introduces you to his friends…

The noise coming from the beachfront bar makes you pause as you follow behind your twin brother. Your hand reaches up unconsciously to grab at the back of Robert's uniform, tugging just hard enough to make your brother pause and turn around to see your eyes shooting from side to side, one of your clear tells when you're nervous.

"You're ok, y/n/n," Robert says gently, bringing his hands up to rest on your shoulder's, knowing from experience that the weight of it brings you comfort when you start to get anxious.

"I...I d....don't think I w...want to g...go in there, Robbie," you say, tripping over your words as your breathing starts to get heavy.

"It's gonna be okay, y/n/n, you're gonna be just fine," Robert says again, pulling you into a tight hug in which you manage to get your breathing under control, "it's just gonna be Nat and some of my squad, we'll have our own table and you don't have to talk to anyone else for the entire night if you want."

Robert can see the exact moment when you make the decision to come into the bar, the spark of curiosity lighting in your eyes at the mention of your brother's co-pilot. You had met Natasha "Phoenix" Trace shortly after your brother's squadron had been permanently assigned to the San Diego base, where you had been working as a kindergarten teacher for the on-base school for the past two years. Being so close to your brother again has been so fun, with the two of you hanging out in every spare moment you had.

The two of you had grown up very close, with Robert being the protective older brother (by three minutes, you had always been quick to whisper sarcastically under your breath whenever he had tried to pull rank) to your quiet, unconfrontational manner.

"Are you ready to go in, or do you need a minute?" Robert asks, hand coming up to rest on the top of your head.

"I...I'm ready," you say, reaching out to tug on your brother's arm and follow after him as he puts his arm around your shoulders and steers you toward the entrance to the bar, under the shining sign reading THE HARD DECK.

Immediately, the noise of the bar makes you flinch and Robert's arm around your shoulders squeezes slightly, and you turn to look at him, finding him already looking at you, asking you if you're okay with his eyes.

You nod at him and tap on his hand, which he lets fall off of your shoulder as he nods towards a booth near the back of the bar, situated right by a pool table. You drop slightly behind him as you follow, preferring to take in your new surroundings from your slightly hidden vantage point behind your brother.

"Bob!" A voice calls from the direction of the table, and you peek slightly around your brother's shoulder to watch as a tall blonde man with the most beautiful smile you've ever seen saunters up to Robert and swings an arm around his shoulders, pulling him forward into a light headlock. You watch, slightly frozen as your brother laughs and fake punches the new man in the stomach, causing him to release Robert, and take a step back, hands going to his hips, stance relaxed as he smiles.

You're so entranced with watching your brother and his pretty friend that you don't notice Natasha coming up on your right, holding a glass of sparkling water in one hand.

"Hey, Y/n," she says softly, just loud enough for you to hear, but not so loud as to startle you.

You turn to look at her, and the first real smile of the night graces your lips.

"Hi Nat," you say, voice quiet as she smiles. She gently holds out the glass of sparkling water to you.

"For you!"

You look down and take the drink from her, thanking her shyly as she smiles at you and tips her head towards the booth, inviting you to go sit with her.

You glance at your brother, finding him already watching you, the tiniest gleam of pride in his eyes as he nods encouragingly. You smile and as you’re turning back to Nat, your eyes meet those of the man who had greeted your brother. He’s looking at you, not staring so much as just observing, and you shiver a little under the the intensity of his green eyed gaze.

Taking a tiny leap of faith, that has your stomach whooshing from the unfamiliarity of it all, you shoot the stranger a shy smile, before quickly ducking your head and sitting down next to your friend.

Much later, you’ve loosened up enough to laugh a little with Nat, who has been sitting with you at the table since you’d arrived. You have even met some of your brothers other pilot friends, including the first guy who had approached the two of you. You’ve learned that his name was Jake, but everyone calls him Hangman. You haven’t had the courage to ask why they call him that, but you noticed your eyes straying to the tall blonde more times than you care to admit. He just has this aura around him that makes you gravitate towards him, although your anxiety won’t let you do more than watch from afar.

“Hey, I’m gonna run to the ladies room, are you good here for a bit?” Nat asks you, scooting out of the booth and standing, waiting near the head of the table. You smile, nodding as you wave her away, scooting out of the booth as well.

“Yeah, I’m gonna g…go get another drink, I think,” you say and Nat nods, before heading towards the back of the bar.

You watch her go for a second, then glance around to spot your brother in the middle of a game of pool with one of his friends, Coyote, you remember.

You steal yourself and then make your way through the crowded space, ducking between people until you stand at an open space at the bar.

You watch as the pretty bartender, smiles at the brown haired man she was talking to, who you remember is called Maverick, before making her way over to you.

“Hey, can I grab you a refill?” The woman asks, nodding to the empty glass in your hand.

“Um y…yes pl….please,” you say, stuttering through your words.

The woman’s smile puts you a little bit more at ease, as she asks what you’re drinking.

“Just sp…sparkling w….water.”

The woman nods at you and takes the cup from you. As she uses the soda spout to refill your glass, she introduces herself as Penny, the owner of the Hard Deck.

“We don’t usually get a lot of new customers this time of year,” she says, pushing the newly full glass back towards you, “are you new to town, or just passing through?”

Something about the way she seems so at ease puts you immediately at ease, and you only trip over your words once as you answer, voice getting a little stronger with each word.

“I live about t…ten minutes away, and my brother is in the Navy, he was just recently assigned here. I don’t usually go out by myself, but he asked me to meet some of his friends here tonight.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, who’s your brother?” Penny inquires.

“Um Robert Floyd? You’d probably know him as Bob.”

You wave a hand in the direction of your brother. Penny nods, turning back to you with a smile.

“Well you are always welcome at the Hard Deck! I didn’t catch your name, dear.”

You give your name, and Penny smiles at you once more, before heading off to help another customer.

You look down at your glass to hide the small smile that plays across your lips at the idea that you just met someone without the buffer of your brother.

You’re so caught up in your own head as you make your way back through the tables, you don’t notice the man until it’s too late.

A body slams into yours from the front, causing your water to splash over your hands and down your front as you stumble backwards. Just as you feel yourself falling, a warm presence appears at your back, steadying you with an arm around your shoulders as another pushes out in front of you. The tan hand shoves the man who had hit you, sending him away from you with such a force that he staggers before righting himself.

You look up at the person who saved you, only slightly surprised to see Jake already staring down at you, concern apparent in his gorgeous green eyes.

“What the fuck man?!” The man who had shoved you says loudly, causing you to jump slightly and subconsciously move in closer to Jake’s side.

“Watch where you’re going!” Jake’s voice holds the slightest hint of anger and you instinctively deflate a bit as you open your mouth to apologize.

“Not you, sweets,” Jake says, unknowingly making your heart flutter wildly in your chest at the name, “you did nothing wrong.”

Jake’s hand smooths over your shoulder, as he glares at the other man. The guy scoffs and looks around, as if making sure he doesn’t have an audience, before swinging his glare back to you and Jake.

“Um, I didn’t do anything wrong here! She was the one not looking where she was going!” He accuses, gesturing at you and making you shrink even further into Jake’s side, shame rising when you feel your eyes start to burn with tears.

“You’re gonna want to watch how you speak to her, jackass.”

Jake’s voice is so hard that the guy visibly blanches, and not so subtly takes a step back and away from the angry pilot at your side.

“Apologize to her for spilling her drink, and then fuck right off.” Jake commands, and the guy mutters the quietist apology you’ve ever heard and then disappears into the crowd.

Jake’s hand strokes over your shoulder one more time and then it’s gone. You turn to look up at the man who had come to your rescue, and Jake gently smiles down at you.

“You alright, y/n?” He asks, gaze sweeping quickly over the front of your dress, clearly soaked through from your spilled water, before flicking back up to your face.

“I….I’m o…okay,” you stutter, shame rising at the idea of this handsome man seeing you so humiliated, “th…thank y…you for rescuing m…me.”

“It’s no trouble, sweets,” Jake says easily, swinging his big green jacket off of his shoulders and draping it over your form.

“What do you need?” He asks, once you’ve settled into the material, hiding your soaked dress, noticing your eyes darting around quickly.

Jake’s niece is a shy little thing who has many of the same tendencies that Jake has recognized in you throughout the evening as he watched you sitting with Phoenix. He saw the way your natural tendency is to roll your shoulders forward slightly and curl in on yourself, your hair falling forward to hide that beautiful face from the world.

You stand staring at him in shock for a few seconds, before mentally shaking yourself.

“I’m o…okay, just maybe to sit back down,” you say, and Jake nods, guiding you back over to the booth.

“Wait right here, I’m gonna go grab you another soda water, and then we’ll just sit here until everyone’s ready to go, okay?” Jake asks as you sit down. You nod at him, playing with your fingers as you wait. Once you hear him walk away, you glance up and survey the bar, spotting Nat and your brother engaged in a pool game with Coyote and Rooster watching on.

You shuffle yourself a little deeper into Jake’s jacket, and close your eyes for a few moments, breathing deeply to let the shocking encounter roll off your shoulders.

“You doing okay, y/n/n?” Robert asks as he slides into the booth next to you. You smile up at him, letting your head fall on his shoulder as his arm comes up to rest over your shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You feel your lips pull up into a smile as you watch Jake lean against the bar and chat with Penny and Maverick, while Penny pours another sparkling water.

“Good.” Your brother is smiling at you when you turn your head to look at him. You grin back, and then let your head drop back onto his shoulder, waiting for Jake to come back with your drink and letting yourself relax into the evening. You might have been anxious going into this evening, but you feel perfectly at ease right now, with your brothers arm around your shoulders and your new (and ridiculously handsome) friend sinking down into the other side of the booth and sliding a fresh glass across the table to you, eyes bright as he settles into a comfortable conversation with your brother.

✯✯✯✯

the time where someone makes the mistake of cutting in front of jake’s girlfriend in line…

The sun is glistening brightly over the ocean as you sit back against your boyfriend’s chest, a soft beach towel beneath you and a book in hand.

The waves lapping against the sand, and the familiar feel of Jake’s fingers combing through your hair lull you comfortably towards sleep, and you close your book, setting it beside you on the towel as you lay your head back against Jake’s shoulder. You eyes are closed as you feel your boyfriend’s arm come up to drape across your chest, caging you into his embrace.

“What are you doing, sweets?” Jake’s voice brings you back from the edge of sleep, his lips brushing across your forehead as his arm across your chest squeezes gently, his fingers drawing small nonsensical patterns on you collar bone.

“Just taking in the moment,” you sigh, shifting to meet his eyes, head still resting on his shoulder. His green eyes gleam with mischief as he meets your gaze.

“But I want to know who she picks,” he says, gesturing to the novel you had put down.

Embarrassment flushes through you as you think about the romance book you had been reading, with its drama filled love triangle.

“Y…you were r…reading it?” You ask, tripping over a few of your words, face burning as you turned your head back to the ocean, away from Jake.

“Hey,” Jake drops his face to your neck, nuzzling you and pressing kisses to the sensitive skin there, “don’t be embarrassed. It was quite an interesting story.”

“Y…you really think so?”

“Of course, y/n/n! I like everything you read.”

“O…okay,” you smile, getting distracted by the attention your boyfriend is lavishing on your neck. You squirm in his grasp as he blows into your neck, causing the two of you to start laughing, as you shake him off and then immediately curl back into his chest, yawning as you snuggle into him.

“What do you wanna do for the afternoon then, Sweets?” Jake asks, fingers going back to trace across your collarbone.

“I don’t know, but I know I’m going to need a coffee for it if it involves being awake,” you say, the heat of the day and the general sense of comfort you feel around your boyfriend contributing to your sleepiness.

“Alright then, baby, let’s get you caffeinated!” Jake says, putting your book into the tote bag lying next to him, before helping you up and shaking out your towel, “Call me selfish, but I’m definitely gonna be wanting your sweet company for a lot longer today.”

You giggle as you hold the bag open for him to deposit the now folded towel in, grinning as Jake uses the opportunity to brush a kiss over your nose. He grins back at you, taking the tote from your hands and slinging it over his shoulder, crooking his elbow so that you can hold his arm.

You snuggle in as close to his side as possible while walking, letting him lead you toward the beaches parking lot and his truck.

You climb into the passenger side after Jake opens the door for you, settling into the well worn leather seat, as your boyfriend starts the engine, pulling out of the beachside parking lot, through a neighborhood, and onto the little high street of your seaside town.

A few minutes later, you’re standing in line outside your favorite coffee truck. Jake has run to the restroom in the shop across the street, leaving you to keep your place in the line, which due to the popularity of the truck, wraps quite far down the sidewalk. You are standing quietly, content to just observe the going’s on of the little high street, when you feel more than see a body push in front of you in line, knocking you back and off balance. You stumble, bumping into the woman behind you, who kindly steadies you, smiling as you stutter out an apology, face flushing in embarrassment.

“No worries, my dear, it wasn’t your fault,” she says, shooting a dirty look over your shoulder at the line cutter, before smiling at you once more and going back to reading the magazine she’s holding.

You turn back to face the man now standing in front of you, as if he’d been waiting in line like the rest of you. You start to think about just letting him stay in the line in front of you, before thinking fuck it and clearing your throat loudly.

The stranger turns around, and the look in his eyes makes you wish you had just let him cut the line. But you’ve come this far and you can hear your brother’s voice in your head telling you to stand up for yourself and not let anyone push you around, so you lift your chin, and ball your hands to stop them from shaking.

“Yes?” The stranger grunts, glowering at you as if you were the one in the wrong.

“Y..you just c..cut in the line. It actually starts b..back there,” you say, pointing down the sidewalk to where the last person in line is standing. You’re trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, wanting to believe that he had just accidentally just into the line.

The guy just stares at you for a long moment, and you grow more and more uncomfortable by the second. You eventually drop your arm, and wait for him to step back out of the line.

“I…i…i…is it r…r…really,” he scoffs, exaggerating the stutter he puts on as he takes a step closer to you, staring down at you with a mena glint in his eye. “What are you going to do about it, huh?”

Your stomach drops as he crowds you, eyes welling with unwanted tears, which you try furiously to not let escape. You take a deep breath, something which he notices and smirks at, eyes portraying that he’s fully confident in his victory.

Just as you open your mouth to say something, you feel a familiar presence at you back, as your boyfriend slings an arm around your chest, pulling you back into his.

“Here’s what you’re gonna do, buddy,” Jake’s voice is all authority, as he stares down the other man, while simultaneously providing you comfort by letting his fingers stroke over your shoulder as his arm across your chest acts as a protective, comforting barrier, “you’re gonna back the fuck off from my girl, you’re gonna apologize, and then you’re gonna march yourself right to the back of the line and wait, just like everyone else is.

The two men seem locked in a stare down for a few tense moments, as your hands come up to grip Jake’s forearm. The line cutter holds strong for a solid five seconds longer before blinking and taking a step back.

“Fine, whatever.” You and Jake watch him as he walks away, not even in the direction of the end of the line.

You feel Jake’s arm tighten briefly across your front, before it fell away, one hand gripping your hand, spinning you around and into his arms. You hands land on his chest, and you stare up at him, struck breathless from the clear adoration in your boyfriends eyes.

“You okay, Sweets?” He asks, on hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah,” you sigh, and he searches your eyes for a few moments, no doubt making ure you were being truthful, before dropping his head to brush his lips against yours.

“Well aren’t you two just the sweetest.”

You pull away from Jake and look towards the voice, seeing the woman who you’d stumbled into. She was smiling, the skin around her eyes crinkling as she does. You smile back, slightly apologetically.

“I’m sorry again for knocking into you,” you say, still feeling guilty despite knowing that it hadn’t really been your fault. The woman waves you off.

“It’s no problem at all, dear,” she says, before glancing between you and Jake. Jake nods at her, silently thanking her for helping you out. She smiles back, eyes glazing over for a second.

“You two have a beautiful day, alright,” she says, before gesturing to the coffee truck’s open window, which you hadn’t even realized had gotten closer, till you were the next people in line.

“You too, Ma’am,” Jake says, hooking an arm around your waist, “now, let’s get you caffeinated, baby.”

✯✯✯✯

the time where someone makes the mistake of hitting on Jake in front of his girl…

🎶Slow Ride. Take it Easy🎶

You laugh, bright and open as you and Jake walk in to THE HARD DECK to the first strains of “Slow Ride” coming from the jukebox in the corner. When you look over towards the music corner, you laugh even harder as you spot your brother and Rooster grinning back at you, and the man next to you.

“Of course, it was them,” Jake laughs, and guides you towards the group of pilots who had quickly become your friends after Bob introduced you that first night at the Hard Deck.

When you reach the table, you sit next to Phoenix and Jake scoots in after you.

“How has everyone been?” You asks, shifting into Jake’s side as his arm takes up its usual spot around your shoulders. Your brother scoots into the booth across from you, and pushes your favorite drink towards you.

“Thanks Robbie,” you smile, raising the drink to your lips and taking a sip.

Much later, you and Natasha are coming back from the bathroom together, where you both had been freshening up after an intense match of darts between Jake and Bradley had left you both crying with laughter, which subsequently caused your mascara to run.

“Omg, look y/n/n,” Nat says, pointing towards the bar, where a fake busty blonde is currently trying to shove her boobs into your boyfriends face.

“Not again,” you complain, which causes Nat to laugh and loop her arm through yours, as you make your way through the throngs of bar patrons to your table. You keep you eyes on the blonde currently chatting up your Jake, although he remains completely un-responsive to her advances.

It’s only when she starts to brush her hand along Jake’s arm, and leans in the closest she’s ever attempted that you and Nat both stand up, and Natasha looks to you for a moment.

“You want me to deal with her?” She asks, rolling her shoulders as if preparing to physically remove the woman from the bar. You love your friend for being so ready to come to your aid, but based on the fact that regardless of Jake’s repeated dismissal of the blonde, this is the third week in a row that she has tried, even you and your non confrontational nature are getting frustrated. Natasha and Bob have dealt with distracting the woman away from Jake every other time she has attempted to put the moves on, but this time, you shake your head at your friend and motion for her to sit down again.

“No, thank you Nat, but I think I’m going to go over there tonight,” you say, the two drinks you had had earlier giving you a courage you normally didn’t possess as you push your hair away from your face and turn to walk over to the blonde to hopefully, finally get this woman to back off from your man, leaving Nat cackling gleefully in your wake.

Meanwhile, Jake drums his fingers in a nonsensical pattern on the bar as he keeps his gaze firmly off of the woman on his right, currently crossing her arms under her breasts, so that her tiny top strains to keep her breasts in.

Penny smiles at him as she slides his beer over to him.

“There you are, soldier.” She says, and Jake laughs at her, shooting her his signature grin as he lifts the pint to his lips ad takes a swig.

“Thanks a million, Penny Pie,” Jake says, jokingly using the nickname that the squad had given Penny when she and Maverick had announced to them that they were getting married.

As Penny walks away, the blonde, Jake thinks her name was Jessica?, moves closer to Jake, brushing his arm with her chest and blinking her heavily lined eyes up at him.

“Oh, the bartenders taken, stud,” she says, in a tone which suggests she thinks that she is saving Jake from a horrible heartbreak. He shifts away from her again and is about to ask her to please leave him alone, when someone beats him to it.

“So is he.”

A grin immediately finds its way onto Jake’s face at the sound of your voice and he turns around, immediately spotting you a few feet away, arms crossed over your chest, eyes glaring at Jessica and an adorable pout on your lips.

“Hi, baby,” he says, opening his free arm for you. You move towards him and wrap your arms around his middle, leaning against him. You kept your glare on Jessica, as the blonde looked between you and Jake, mouth slightly agape.

“Really?” She asks, tone biting and frankly mean, “this is who a stud like you is with?”

Jake frowns, arm tightening around you, as he opens his mouth to defend you. But again, for the second time that night, you beat him to it.

“Yeah, I am,” you say, smiling at the blonde who glares back at you, “and I’m also the person who he’s going to continue to be with, so you might wanna step aside and take your desperate attempts elsewhere.”

You flick your hand at her, still riding the high of your drinks from earlier and then once she leaves, you turn your head you look up at your boyfriend. Jake is gazing down at you, the look in his eyes heated.

“Baby…” he trails off, hand coming up to brush across your cheek, “that was…”

You smile a little sheepishly up at him.

“A little out of character I know,” you say, feeling a little dramatic and self-conscious for what you just did.

“…extremely hot.” Jake finishes his sentence, grinning as he brings you in for a kiss.

“I love you, Jake,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you too, baby.”

a/n: thank you so much for reading! My requests are open, so if there is anything you’d like to see me write, please check my rules and feel free to ask! I should be able to get to a lot more because I’m free from college for the summer! I always love to chat and appreciate every reblog, comment and like. Happy Reading!

#hangman x reader #top gun fanfiction #hangman x you #jake seresin x reader #fanfiction writer #awaywith-thefaeries #jake seresin x you #Floyd!reader #bobs twin sis #protective Jake #protective Bob

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birdy-bat-writes · 1 year

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You've Got the Real Thing Right Here

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

A/N: I kid you not, I wrote this in 30 minutes in a Gatorade-induced, TikTok-fueled romantic fit of filthy feelings. So…it’s probably not edited well and I’m so sorry haha. But I hope you like it:D

Summary: You come across a scene in a book and wonder, is this really attractive? Luckily, your boyfriend is there to show you that it really is.

Content Warnings: almost smut, really borderline smut, fluff, Jake being a sweetheart, Jake being way too hot to handle, and some swearing. Let me know if I missed anything :D Minors DNI!!!!

Word count: 1047

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You didn’t usually get many days off, so today was a rarity. Your boss left for a personal vacation and since there was nothing to do at the office, you were told that you simply didn’t have to come in. It was impromptu and random, but you knew exactly how you were going to spend it. There were only 8 more chapters left in your book, and you’ve been dying to find out of the two love interests finally get together.

It was a little cold out today in San Diego, another rarity. After a warm shower, you slipped into some cozy leggings and your favorite of all your boyfriend’s sweatshirts; a gray and burnt orange Longhorns crewneck subtly scented with his cologne, your perfume, and the smell of brownies from your shared baking excursion last weekend. You opted out of wearing anything under the sweatshirt because why not? It was your day off, after all. With a cup of hot chocolate, you sat down by a window and opened your paperback to its little crocheted bookmark and let yourself sink into the story.

You didn’t realize how much time had passed by the time you closed the book and placed it on the coffee table. You started at 10:00 am and now it was 3:00. Emotions were swirling within you, and you couldn’t help but twirl around your living room, smiling. They finally got together! Oh god, that was so cute—and a few pages later, so hot. Still grinning like an idiot, you decided to head on over to the kitchen and grab lunch. You microwaved last night’s leftovers and let your mind wander. Every romance book you’ve read has the same scene; the guy leaning on the doorframe and looking down at the girl. What’s up with that? It makes you feel warm every time, and you just know that whatever scene comes next is bound to be good but what the heck makes a doorframe attractive? It’s just leaning; something you do every day.

Your thoughts were interrupted by keys jangling at your door. Jake was home! You leant over in your chair, putting yourself in his line of sight. “Hey, Babe, welcome home.” Jake could hear the smile in your voice.

“Why, thank you, Darlin’. What’s got you in such a good mood?” he asked, walking over to you and placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“Nothing much,” you replied as he walked to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Gatorade. “How was work?” Jake started talking, and you’re sure you heard some of it but from here on out, another thought consumed your mind entirely. Jake isn’t that much shorter than your kitchen door….

“…so I told him that was crazy. Right?” Jake looked to you to find you absolutely spaced out. “Y/N? Everything okay…?”

“Uh, yeah! Sorry, what were you saying?” Jake grinned, amused at the light blush that was dusting your cheeks.

“No, no, what’s got you so distracted?”

“Nothing, I promise.” You insisted, standing up to join him in the kitchen entrance.

“Sweetheart, you’re great at a lot of things,” he started, putting his hand in yours, “but you’re a shit liar.” You giggled with him and looked down.

“Okay, okay. Can you do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“Alright, uh,” you didn’t expect to suddenly get as shy as you did. “Could you just put your hand up here, on the doorframe corner and like, lean over a little?” Jake, with his Gatorade still in hand, looked down at you, confused, but still did it anyway.

“Like this?”, he asked.

“Yeah! Now, bend your elbow a little. Lean naturally into it.”

“Is there a reason for this or…?”

“Satisfying my curiosity.”

“Gotcha.”

“Okay, perfect.” You took a small step back, one hand still on Jake’s chest to get a look at the full picture and…woah. Okay, now you get why curiosity killed the cat, and why every book had this scene. It was freaking hot.

Jake’s green eyes were darkened by the shadows of his lashes and his lips had the slightest shine from the Gatorade. God, you bet he tasted like lemon-lime right now, and his posture…you knew he was tall, but did he really always tower over you like this? His biceps were on full display along with the tan skin of his neck and, god, he was so close, and so big and his cologne was intoxicating. You felt hot.

Jake saw it immediately. He knew that look; he saw your lips part and the way your legs squeezed shut. Oh. He took a long drawn-out look at your figure up and down and he knew you were done for.

Smirking, he asked, “Y/N, Honey, you okay there? You look a little red.” A teasing tone lacing his voice. He reached toward the coffee table to put down his Gatorade and he saw it. It’s that book you’ve been reading. There it is. Jake curled his hand around your waist, snaking it under your his sweatshirt, making you shiver as he pulled you close. His fingers were icy against your hot skin from holding the cold bottle. You gasped when he pressed you flush against his chest. “All this because of a book?” he took his other hand down from the doorframe to place it on your cheek, stroking it softly with his thumb. “Baby, you’ve got the real thing right here.” He whispered, lips ghosting over yours before pressing into you for a rough, heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around his waist while his fingers pressed into yours. He peppered kisses along your jawline, feeling the warmth of your skin on his. The sensation of his stubble on your neck went straight to your core and made you whimper, an act that tore down what little resolve Jake had left. He pulled away and took you by the hand out of the kitchen.

“Jake, why’d you stop?” You uttered, breathlessly.

“I didn’t. Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“The bedroom. Oh,” he took two steps back to the coffee table and reached for the bottle of Gatorade. “Better take this. You’ll need it by the time I’m done with you.”

Moral of the story? Read books, stay sexy.

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vivwritesfics · 16 days

Text

Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash

Chapter Four

Summary: Being a Verstappen means realising that you'll never be as good as her brother. She knew it. That was why she ran away to California. Of course, she's gonna fall for the older, naval aviator. And, of course, it pisses her family off.

Bradley Bradshaw x F1!Driver Reader

Warnings: Allusions to smut

1.8K

Series Masterlist

"Rooster."

"You've been spending far too much time at The Hard Deck."

The moment he said it, she let out a laugh. But he was right, she'd only started calling him Rooster because of Jake.

Bradley had been a little afraid for her to meet Jake. If anybody could turn her head away from Bradley, it was Jake. The way he sauntered in, oozing confidence, he caught her eye. And Bradley couldn't blame her; Jake was a pretty boy with kills under his belt. He didn't run out of fuel.

Jake noticed her, too. But that also didn't come as a surprise. Bradley knew she was gorgeous, knew his fellow aviators would have their eyes on her if he took her to The Hard Deck. But he'd wanted nothing more to see her in his spaces, in the places he frequently.

She held her hand out, offering Jake her first name only. He took her hand, introduced himself and shook it. And, in that minute, a beautiful friendship was born.

It took three days of Bradley being jealous and grumpy before he realised there was nothing going on between her and Jake. Not that he had any right to be jealous. What were they doing but sleeping together?

"C'mon, Roos," she said down the phone. She sat on the bed of her shitty motel room, towel head against her body. "I need your help."

Rooster rolled his eyes. It wasn't malicious, more endearing. "What do you need, Princess?"

The nickname wasn't serious, she would have hated it if she was being serious. No, it was something he used when she was being just that, a princess. Like when she wore those stupid shoes she'd bought and spent the night complaining at Bradley. He'd carried her shoes in one hand and carried her out to the Bronco on his back.

He'd called her princess just the night before, when she'd been on her knees, pouting with her fingers wrapped around his cock. Bradley had pulled her up after that. Threw her on the bed and buried his face in her cunt.

Whatever she wanted, Bradley knew he was going to give it to her.

"Can I come and use your shower?"

The sigh he released from his lips was entirely superficial. "I'll be there in five minutes," he said and ended the call.

And, five minutes later, she watched from the window as the blue Bronco pulled up outside of the shitty motel she'd found herself in. She grabbed her bag from the bed (she was rather particular with her shampoos), walked out of the motel, and towards the Bronco.

When she tried pulling open the passenger side door, it didn't budge. "Roos, c'mon!" She called as she kept trying the door. But, still, it wouldn't open. "Let me in! Rooster!"

He opened the window slightly. (It was almost as if he knew she'd reach in and open the door herself if he opened the window fully. Two weeks and he knew her so well). "Go back up to the room and get the rest of your stuff. You're staying with me until you leave San Diego," he said.

A grin lit up her face. Rooster unlocked the doors and she threw the bag full of her toiletries into the back of the Bronco. Bradley's watched, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, smile beneath his moustache, and she went back to her motel room. She shoved the clothes she had brought with her into her remaining bags and ran down to the office.

She checked out of the motel and left her key on the desk. Returning to the Bronco, she threw her bags into the back and climbed in beside him. "Seriously," she said as he began driving away, "thank you.”

"Don't worry about it, stinky," he said and she pulled a face at him. "Let's get you home."

It did make sense to have her in his home, though, didn't it? She spent so much time with him lately that the McLaren had been parked on his driveway for the last week. All Bradley needed now was to have her soaps and shampoos in his shower caddy.

It was odd, wasn't it? His life had been overflowing with tragedy. He'd lost his father so young and his mother too soon after. And then he'd had the man he'd once loved like a father pull his papers and set him back four years.

Things had gotten better since Maverick had come back into his life. They were a long way away from being normal, but things were better. Still Bradley had been searching for some sort of solace in his life.

He didn't expect to find it in a twenty-four year old woman. A sports star, at that. Bradley hadn't wanted to seek such comfort from her, he was just looking for somebody to ride his cock for the night. He didn't expect to want her to stick around.

He carried her bags into his house. It had always felt too big for just one person, and having somebody else's stuff in his place felt right. "D'you want dinner?"

"Please!" She called as she ran towards his bathroom, her little bag full of toiletries held between her hands.

Bradley wasn't exactly a brilliant cook. Carole had tried to teach him, but, and I quote, he always had his 'head in the clouds, just like his father'. But still, he could cook and that was far better than she could do (not that Bradley was aware of that).

So, as she turned the knobs to start the water in his shower, Bradley began preparing food. She waited, hand under the gentle stream of water as she waited for it to warm up. As soon as it was warm, she stripped off her clothes and stepped under the water.

A content sigh left her lips as she moved Bradley's loofah over her skin. She'd been in his shower before, always using his soap. As much as she loved smelling like him, it was lovely to have her own soaps scrubbing her skin.

She washed her hair, nails dragging against her scalp as she rubbed the shampoo in. Ever since the first time she'd used Bradley's shower, she'd wanted to shower with him. But it would have been a tight squeeze (and neither of them would have minded).

Stepped out of the shower, she looked around for a towel. A towel that wasn't there. "Bradley!" She called. "Have you got a towel I can use?"

Bradley came running when she called. "Shit, sorry!" He called as he walked past the bathroom. She didn't know where he went, but a few moments he was back at the bathroom door, knocking.

She hadn't bothered to lock the door. Why would she? What hadn't Bradley seen before? Keeping her feet planted firmly on the bathmat, she pulled open the door, letting Bradley into the bathroom.

Again, he'd seen all of her naked body plenty of times over before. But he still shielded his eyes as he passed her a towel. "I hope you like macaroni cheese," he said as she wrapped the towel around the body.

"Macaroni cheese?" She echoed as she patted her body dry. "I haven't had that in years." A smile graced her pretty face as she took the towel from around her body, wrapped it around her hair and strode towards Bradley.

When her fingers touched his shoulder, Bradley looked up. A hiss left his lips as his eyes moved across her body. "Holy shit," he said. And she just laughed at him. It wasn't a sweet little giggle, but a full on laugh. And Bradley loved it.

***

"Phone," Bradley said with a sexy, groggy, morning voice. His body was pressed against her own, morning wood and all. His moustache tickled the back of her neck, waking her up, but he kept his grip on her tight.

"I got it," she mumbled, barely opening her eyes as she grabbed her phone off her nightstand. Not paying much attention, she swiped her finger across the bottom of the screen and pressed her phone to her ear. "Hello?"

There was a beat of silence. And then, "Holy shit," came an American voice. "I didn't think you'd pick up."

Suddenly, she sat up. "Huh?" Bradley mumbled. But he stayed laying beside her, nose pressed against her hip and hand on her thigh, fingers moving across her skin like they had a mind of their own.

"Logan," she began, somewhat breathlessly. "I, uh..."

Truthfully, she hadn't meant to pick up the phone. She saw all of the phone calls she'd been getting while preseason testing was going on, but she hadn't picked up. Hearing how good the RB car was, the car that was supposed to be hers was, it would have been far too painful.

But it was the day before the very first race of the season. She'd completely lost track of the days, or she would have had her phone turned off.

"I miss you," Logan said. "We all do. It's so weird not having you here for the season opener."

She shook her head. "Logan, stop. Please don't do this," she said quietly, fingers moving through Bradley's hair. He let out a satisfied hum, but she didn't hear it. "I can't hear this right now."

But Logan kept going, pretending he didn't hear her. "How quickly can you get to Bahrain?" He asked. "And, where the hell are you?"

A sigh left her lips. "I can't go to Bahrain, but I will tell you where I am. As long as you promise not to tell anybody!" She hissed down the phone. Bradley pinched her thigh suddenly, so suddenly that she jumped.

"I swear down, I'm not gonna tell anybody."

"Not even Max," she insisted, Bradley's fingertips moving higher. She batted his hand away.

Logan let out a weak laugh. "You haven't even told your brother?" He cried, but the noise she released from her throat had him promising to tell nobody.

"Fine," she breathed, scratching at Bradley's scalp. "I'm in California ."

There was a moment before Logan responded. "Wait," he said, voice lowered to just a little more than a whisper. "If you're in the States, will you come and watch Miami?"

"I think about it," she said.

That was good enough for Logan. "I got to go," he mumbled.

"Good luck, Lo," she said quietly. "And, for what it's worth, I really do miss you." She ended the call after that snuggled back down beside Bradley.

He squeezed her hip and moved his body on top of her own, cock pressing against her clothed cunt. "Who was that?" He asked, his morning voice still groggy and sexy.

She tugged at his hair, a lazy smile crossing her face. "Nobody," she said and pulled Bradley's face down to her own.

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asteriismos · 2 years

Text

closer - ben hargreeves

PAIRING ◆ sparrow!ben hargreeves x umbrella!reader

WARNING(S) ◆ SMUT, rough sex, choking, me losing my sanity, unedited, piv sex, unprotected sex, fingering,

SUMMARY ◆ instead of luther getting held hostage by the sparrows, it’s you, and you and ben do not get along. hate sex basically.

WORDS ◆ 3.9k

NOTE ◆ . . . i have nothing to say tbh. this is justified in every way.

»»————-　✼　————-««

It was unlike you to get yourself into these types of situations.

If anything, you thought that you were one of the more responsible members of The Umbrella Academy. You didn’t get yourself into harm's way like your other siblings did and you were notorious for being the one with your head on your shoulders, even throughout the mess of the apocalypse – or both of them, for that matter, as your family seemed to be stuck in the sticky situation of constantly saving the world.

You thought that you were finally done with all of this. Five had finally figured out a way to get you all back into the future, away from Dallas, and back to the way that things were supposed to be without the apocalypse. You could finally go back to your normal life and maybe make something of yourself. But things were never that easy and when your family made their way back to the future and back to your childhood home, you were met with the same house, the same absent father, but a different group of superheroes. As if you thought your father couldn’t get any worse, he hated you so much in Dallas that he adopted a whole other group of children, and renamed them The Sparrow Academy. And to make matters even worse, they were a bunch of assholes.

Your siblings and you had gotten beaten to a pulp by them less than a day ago, and no one seemed to be doing anything productive. Allison wanted to get back to her family, Diego wanted to start a new life, and Five seemed like he was ready to leave and start his so-called ‘retirement.’ And to be honest, that didn’t sound half bad. You thought that maybe it was time you did the same thing, since there seemed to be nothing wrong anymore.

And that’s exactly what you tried to do, you really tried. You were minding your own business, walking through Central Park when you were taken by The Sparrow Academy. You couldn’t put up much of a fight either, since that floating cube of whatever (who they called Christopher, but you were still confused as to how it was an actual person) was able to lift you up and the one who looked like Ben but wasn’t actually Ben put his foot straight to your face, knocking you unconscious. That had been three days ago, and since then, you weren’t really being treated like a hostage – but you were one, in your own home. Well . . . was it your own home if you technically don’t exist in this timeline? Seemed like a question you should ask Five, if he was here with you.

The Sparrows weren’t actually half bad. In some ways, they reminded you of your own family. They grew up the same way as you, technically, but they didn’t rebel against your father like you had. They liked being the center of attention of the city and they liked being a part of a team. You could respect that, if only all of them were nice like Sloane or Alphonso and not the raging cunt that Ben was.

It was hard for you to believe that Ben in this timeline was such an ass, because the Ben that you knew was nothing like that. He was kind, always there for everyone, and the glue that really held the whole family together. There was always the notion that if Ben hadn’t died, there was a chance that the Umbrella Academy would still be together and things wouldn’t have gotten so messed up. But the Ben in this timeline wanted nothing to do with you, and he was an overzealous ass that only cared about himself, it seemed like sometimes he didn't really even care about his own family. And he wanted nothing to do with you, but always made it a point to give you a hard time, no matter what you did, he always found a way to be a bitch to you.

He had yet to show up to dinner, where you're at the table despite being a hostage. Oh well, it was better than being locked in some type of cellar handcuffed. And then you heard the door open and it took everything in you not to groan out, and instead you rolled your eyes to yourself and waited for him to sit down next to you, which he always did. Ben found every way to get on your nerves.

Ben walked over in his usual fashion, which you deemed as strutting, but others didn’t see the humor in it. Maybe it was just because every time he was even in the same room as you, you felt the need to insult something about him, you had to keep him grounded, right?

“Good evening, Y/N.”

“Oh, it was,” you said to him, glancing in his direction and then instantly going back to your food. from the corner of your eye you could see as his face feigned hurt, then he immediately went to talk with Fei about some mission that Reginald had assigned them on a while ago. It was something that they had been working on before you and your family had shown up and ‘ruined everything’ as Ben liked to say. You wanted to quip that you found it funny that he still listened to the orders of his father, being old enough to go on his own and take lead if he wanted to, but you didn’t want to get into a fight at the moment. Your position here was complicated anyways.

Dinner was, for the most part, uneventful. The only thing that happened was Ben threatening to throw his chicken at you because you rolled your eyes at one of his comments, which didn’t end up happening because Sloane gave him that look and a stern ‘Ben.’

For the rest of the night you retired to your rooms, telling your captors that you would meet them in the morning, as if you had a choice on that matter.

You sat at the edge of your bed, kicking off your shoes and stretching your arms up. You set your phone (that seemed to not work no matter how many times you called your family to come and get you) down on the small nightstand you had and got dressed in something more comfortable for sleeping. The sun was fully down now, and the only thing that lit up your room was the tall lamp in the corner of your room and the distant lights of other buildings through your windows.

As you slipped into bed under the covers, you allowed your mind to wander. First, to your family, where you silently went over the details in your head to make sure you had them all memorized for when you came back to them and could tell them all you learned from being in the same home as your newfound enemies. Or were they frenemies? And the more you pondered, the more they landed on Ben.

It was strange, thinking of him. Typically you would be cringing at anything that included anything to do with Ben Hargreeves, but this time you allowed your mind to expand instead of bringing up the protective barriers like you always did. The calming effect of finally not clouding all your judgment with anger was almost enough to lull you to sleep.

That was until you heard a whisper, just the faintest, tiniest little sound that you were almost uncertain that you had even heard anything at all.

Your eyes stayed closed. There was a presence there, just on the outer barriers of your mind. There was silence, complete and utter silence and you were about to call it a night when-

You’re thinking about Ben?

You jolted up to sit, eyes snapping open and your head getting dizzy from the sudden shift in position. It was Fei’s voice, clear as day in your mind, that was what you were hearing. You heard the noise of a crow cawing from the corner of your room and your head turned, seeing that you were face to face with one of Fei’s crows, a bright, glowy aura presenting off of it. You knew that she was powerful, and she definitely could sense that you were thinking of Ben. The crow cocked its head to the side and you scowled.

And the worst thing was that she was still there. You could feel it. you put your hands on either side of your head and closed your eyes, opening your mouth and saying, “I was not.”

It was the weakest lie you had ever made in your life.

You’re such a liar, Fei chided. you could practically feel her smirk. Just admit it.

You groaned to yourself, feeling a bead of sweat drop down your face from the focus. “Goodnight, Fei,” you said to the crow and then reached to the bedside table and threw a book at the crow, which made it squawk and disappear into thin air.

Now you were wide awake, you were sure that there was no way you could get any sleep after that. You weren’t even angry at yourself for doing that, but more embarrassed that your thoughts had been exposed to Fei and there was no way that Ben wouldn��t find out - because you were thinking about him and he would take the opportunity to use it against you. You knew there was no way you were getting out of this tomorrow.

You busied yourself by looking through the room that they had given you, seeing if you could find any lore or information that would be of use, trying your best to basically bore yourself to the brink of sleep. And just as you thought it was beginning to work, you heard a knock on your door. Glancing at the clock, you saw that it was a little bit past midnight. Who the hell was at your door at this hour?

For a moment you stilled, thinking that perhaps it was a mistake and they would leave then you could finally try and sleep, but there was again another knock a few moments later. You finally stood up and made your way to the door, opening it and being greeted by none other than Ben. He was dressed in his comfort clothes and his hair was messy, like he had been awake for way too long.

He didn’t give you any time to say anything, instead pushing his way past you into your room. Your eyes widened and you took a peek outside into the halls to make sure that no one saw that. Luckily, the halls were dead. Closing your door and turning the lock, you faced him and stood there deadpanned, waiting for some kind of explanation.

“Well, don’t act all happy to see me,” he said sarcastically.

You laughed. “I'm not. What are you doing here? Do you understand what could happen if someone sees you and me in my bedroom alone?” There would be rumors spreading like wildfire, something that you definitely didn’t need to be confronted by the Sparrows or your own family. You hated to admit that you knew the exact reason he was here - because Fei seemed to spare no time in telling her brother what she had witnessed. But that still begged the question as to why he cared so much about it in the first place.

Ben rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair. You took a second to look him over, seeing that the black shirt he was wearing was sheer enough for you to know what he was hiding under it. You shuddered, coming to your senses again and frowning. “You were thinking about me, and I think I deserve an explanation,” Ben told you, shrugging his large shoulders and cocking an eyebrow up. “You were thinking so loud. At least, that’s what my sister tells me. You know you should learn to know when crows are in the room. She’s always watching”

“I wasn’t trying to, I was trying to go to sleep.” you countered.

“You think of me while trying to sleep?”

Damn. Wrong thing to say. and now he was giving you a look, one that you’ve never seen before from him. His eyes were almost dark, filled with lust. You felt like your fucking legs were going to give out at the look that he was giving you. it was enough to make your face heat up and clear your throat, not having anything else to say, there really wasn’t anything to defend yourself with.

And it all happened so fast. One second you were both standing there, staring into each other’s eyes, and the next you both were walking towards each other and colliding your lips onto each other. The kiss was hot and searing, instantly making your head go dizzy at the feeling. His lips were soft, albeit a little harsh as his tongue forced its way into your mouth and prodded against your own. Ben’s hand came to grip your jaw, the other on the small of your back.

You attempted to grab onto him, get your hands on him as much as his were on you, but he didn’t let you, using the hand on your back to pull you closer to your bed. You were still kissing, lips starting to swell with the aggressiveness of the kiss.

You still hated him, you had to keep telling yourself that, even though just by kissing he was making you feel so good. No attachments were to be made, this was purely just acting on normal human instincts, right?

Soon enough the backs of your legs were hitting the edge of your bed, Ben pushed you down onto the bed like it was nothing and you were silly putty molding in his hands. He fell on top of you, instead of kissing you on the lips, he went for your neck, one of his hands came and grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked it down, exposing your neck for him.

And he made sure that you would have to somehow cover all the marks he was making, because his teeth seemed to graze over every inch of your skin and lightly nip anywhere he wanted. And you felt dirty because you let him. You would let him do whatever he wanted to do to you.

Ben pulled away from you for a moment to pull his shirt off, discarding it to the floor and helping you to do the same with your shirt. You took a moment to look him over, seeing that his body was practically sculpted and personally handcrafted by the gods themselves, basically knocking the breath out of you. He noticed and you didn’t even care, instead of cringing at his smirk, you found it incredibly hot.

Your hands came to his torso, wrapping your legs around his waist as his mouth began kissing along your chest. You pressed your hips up against him, trying to get friction against your already wet core. Sadly, it wasn’t enough and you were left with whatever he decided to give you.

“Ben, please,” you whispered out towards him, looking down to watch him slip one of your nipples into his mouth, your mouth hung wide open. He came off of it with a ‘pop’ and tilted his head, waiting for you to finish whatever you were going to say.

“Please what?” Ben asked, going back to kissing your chest until he landed on your stomach and started painting masterpieces on your skin.

You made the tiniest sound, feeling sparks send right down below. “Just touch me already,” you stated, putting your hands in his hair and giving the locks of hair he had a good tug. He groaned against him, the vibrations going through your entire body. Ben came up face to face with you, pressing yet another kiss against your lips and pushing down your pants and underwear to the ground. You were now all exposed to him, while he still wore half of his outfit. You pouted at the unfairness but you knew it would get you nowhere now.

He held his hand out in front of you and for a moment you looked at him confused. He sensed this and said blankly, “spit.” You did what he asked and spit into his hand, watching as he took that same hand and touched your clit, feeling the wetness of your spit and your own mixing together. Your mouth hung open as he rubbed his fingers around, experimentally pushing the tip of his finger into you then immediately pulled it out.

You felt yourself almost whine, needing him to give you more or you felt like you would simply die on the spot. Right as you were about to say something, Ben’s other hand came and grasped onto your neck, his fingers digging into your skin and putting pressure on your throat.

Holy fuck.

Typically, you would be angry with how much control Ben had over you right now, but now you were just giving into it, liking that he was being rough with you. It was like a form of argument without the words and you were becoming addicted to it. He was able to make you feel so good and you were completely in his power.

Finally, as if he was putting some pity on you, one finger slipped into you, curling up and hitting a spot inside you that made you moan loudly. The hand choking you became stronger against your neck, his mouth coming to your ear and whispering, “Be quiet, you don’t want anyone to hear us and have this be over too soon, do you?” He was looking for an answer.

You shook your head, understanding that this would not be the best time to get caught by anyone else. You tried your best to keep yourself quiet as one finger pumped in you, the thumb of that same hand pressing against your clit and making your toes curl in pleasure. You could feel how hard he was against you and that made the fire in your stomach ablaze, nearing that edge desperately wanting some kind of release.

As soon as you felt yourself getting higher to that point, his hand came off your throat and his hand stopped moving, your eyes opened up and looked at him, who was busy pulling down his pants and grabbing his cock with his hand.

It didn’t take long for him to position himself at your entrance, his tip teasing you by rubbing it up and down against your slit. “Is this what you want?” Ben asked you, his other hand tracing down your body and coming to grip the side of your hip.

You nodded your head fervently. “Yes, Ben, please just fuck me already,” you said to him.

And that was all he needed before he was ramming himself into you, giving you no time to adjust, which was expected. You took the pain that came with his harsh motions, both of his hands gripping your hips with such force that you were sure that you were going to have bruises there in the morning in the shape of his hands.

Ben pounded into you, your voice was already hoarse from his choking and you made as quiet sounds as you could. All that anger you had for each other had bubbled up onto the surface and there was only the desire left, the sickly sweet feeling that you had only dreamed about with Ben in your deepest and darkest fantasies. You could never get tired of this, perhaps you should’ve initiated this sooner, or pushed his buttons so he would take it out on you this way.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” Ben said in that deep, gravelly voice that basically sent you into orbit the second that it came past your lips. You were so far gone, head empty of any incoherent thought other than Ben Hargreeves. And he continued to move into you shamelessly, neither of you caring about anything in the world except this feeling both of you were chasing.

You were close, you could practically feel the tidal wave starting to form inside your stomach. His pace would not let up, practically tearing into you with all the energy and stamina that he had from years of training. and Ben looked so good like this, his mouth hung open and sweat forming on that tanned brow of his. His muscles worked overtime and flexed with every single movement he made. And his eyes, which were so dark and intense, were staring right into your own, almost like they were telling you to give everything to him.

You were so worked up, that it only took his hand to come down and rub down against your clit, the pressure enough to push you over the edge. It was like a firework went off inside and the scream you wanted to make died in your throat, wishing that you could be as loud as you wanted. Your back arched up and your hips faltered against his own, cumming around him and squeezing, earning a moan from his lips as well. You looked so good coming undone that Ben basically was just sent into fucking orbit with no trace of coming back down.

The second you regained your composure and came down from your own orgasm, you watched as Ben hit his own, hips shifting and releasing right inside of you. You felt him fill you up to the brim, Ben falling down with his chest pressed against your own. The room smelled of sex and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The only thing was the sounds of your pants throughout the room, and soon enough Ben was pulling out of you. You frowned at the sudden loss of not being filled up anymore by him. Just a second ago you felt like you were on fucking cloud nine and now you were crashing right down to reality at what you had done, and whom you had just done it with.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching as Ben pulled his pants back up and started gathering the rest of his clothes in his hand. He was still shirtless, about to go towards the door when you said, “Are you seriously going out there half naked?”

“No one is up this late, trust me,” he said back.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Well I don’t know about that after all the noises coming from here.”

“That wasn’t me making all the moans,” Ben says in such a casual way you stare daggers back at him. He stifles out a laugh and then turns, leaving the room and closing the door behind him. you can hear his footsteps recede from the door and you are left here alone, thinking about what the hell you had just done.

Once you regained your composure and felt like you could walk, you stood up on your wobbly feet and made your way to your small mirror. the second you got there, you gasped at your appearance in the mirror. Hair all messed up, marks all along your neck along with bruises from his hands, and the bruises on your hips. And to top it all off, you could feel what he left in you trickling down your thigh.

That may have just been the best sex of your life. But you still hated the new Ben Hargreeves…

… right?

#ben hargreeves #ben hargreeves smut #ben hargreeves imagine #ben hargreeves x reader #the sparrow academy #The Umbrella Academy #the umbrella academy imagines #the umbrella academy fanfiction #luther hargreeves #Allison Hargreeves #five hargreeves #diego hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #klaus hargreeves

4K notes · View notes

doctorsiren · 7 months

Note

I’m kinda curious about Godot in your monster AU. Is it a situation like Phoenix where he was ostensibly Just A Guy before Dahlia pulled a Dahlia? The people need to know (and by people I mean just me)

Just gonna repeat what I said in the tags of one of the first SLMAU posts

Godot is a dark elf, whereas Diego was originally a wood elf. The poison / potion that was supposed to kill him put him in a coma and worked against his determination to live, turning him into a drow. This also explains why his hair is white bc dark elves have white hair

And also in D&D lore, they come from the Underdark and Godot is always talking about how he came back from Hell, so it fits

Anyways I’m accidentally causing Godot/Diego brainrot in my head and I have to do something with the ideas I have

#doctorsiren #ace attorney #ace attorney au #diego armando #prosecutor godot #ace attorney fanart #silly little monster au #art #digital art #my art #fanart #procreate #his vest reminds me of the hershey’s symphony chocolate bar wrappers (i love those sm)

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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months

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When parties fail, movements step up

This Saturday (19 Aug), I'm appearing at the San Diego Union-Tribune Festival of Books. I'm on a 2:30PM panel called "Return From Retirement," followed by a signing:

https://www.sandiegouniontribune.com/festivalofbooks

Does anyone like the American two party system? The parties are opaque, private organizations, weak institutions that are prone to capture and corruption, and gerrymandering's "safe seats" means that the real election often takes place in the party's smoke-filled rooms, when a sure-thing candidate is selected:

https://doctorow.medium.com/weak-institutions-a26a20927b27

But there doesn't seem to be any way to fix it. For one thing, the two parties are in charge of any reform, and they're in no hurry to put themselves out of business. It's effectively impossible for a third party to gain any serious power in the USA, and that's by design. After the leftist Populists party came within a spitting distance of power in the 1890s, the Dems and Repubs got together and cooked the system, banning fusion voting and erecting other structural barriers.

The Nader and Perot campaigns were doomed from the outset, in other words. Either candidate could have been far more popular than the D and R on the ballot, and they still would have lost. It's how the deck is stacked, and to unstack it, reformers would need to take charge of at least one – and probably both – of the parties.

But that's not cause for surrender – it's a call to action. In an interview with Seymour Hersh, Thomas Frank (Listen, Liberal) sets out another locus of power, one with the potential to deliver control over the party to its base: social movements:

https://seymourhersh.substack.com/p/ordinary-people-by-the-millions

It's been done before. The parties are routinely transformed by power-shifts within their internal coalitions: since 1970, corporate Dems have consistently pushed the party to the right, making it the power of white-collar professionals and relying on working people showing up and marking their ballots with a D because they have "nowhere else to go."

Bill Clinton was the most successful of these corporate raiders, delivering the parts of the Reagan Revolution that Reagan himself could never have managed: dismantling tariffs and bank regulations, passing the crime bill and welfare "reform." He came within a whisper of (partially) privatizing Social Security.

This set in motion the forces that made Trumpism possible: when Dems told deindustrialized workers to "learn to code" and blamed them for the destruction of their communities, it opened a space for Make America Great Again, the (empty) workerist rhetoric of the GOP. The Dems' plan of putting "really smart people" in charge and letting them run things was a (predictable) disaster. "Really smart" isn't the same as "infallible" and really smart people can be spooked or bulled into doing the wrong thing – like Obama "foaming the runways" for the banks with the houses of mortgage holders, and leaving the bankers responsible for the Great Financial Crisis unscathed:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/15/mon-dieu-les-guillotines/#ceci-nes-pas-une-bailout

"Really smart people" can't get us out of this mess. Instead, we need the kind of muscular political action – the "whirlwind" – that characterized FDR's New Deal: "complete reformation of the banking industry.. just about every other industry as well. Regulation. Social Security. Public works. Antitrust. Soil conservation."

FDR got there by alienating his former classmates and refusing the go-slow entreaties of his cronies. He got there because there was a mass social movement that made him do it ("I want to do it, now make me do it"):

https://humanizingthevacuum.wordpress.com/2014/09/16/i-agree-with-you-i-want-to-do-it-now-make-me-do-it/

Every time in US history where one of the political party duopoly listened to its base, it was because of a mass social movement: the farmers' movement (1890s), labor (1930s), civil rights and antiwar (1960s). As Frank says:

Social movements succeed. They build and they change the intellectual climate and then, when the crisis comes, they make possible things like agrarian reform or the New Deal or the Civil Rights acts of the 1960s.

Today, we see the seeds of those social movements: the new union movement. Black Lives Matter. Neobrandeisians with their "hipster antitrust." These are the movements that are creating "ideas lying around": ideas that, in time of crisis, can move from the fringe to the center in an eyeblink:

https://doctorow.medium.com/ideas-lying-around-33a28901a7ae

They are setting in motion another transformation of the Democratic Party, from its top-down, "really smart people" model to a bottom-up, people-powered one, kept in check by movements, not party bosses. As Frank says, "They require the mass participation of ordinary people. Without that, I am afraid that nothing is possible."

I'm kickstarting the audiobook for "The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation," a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and make a new, good internet to succeed the old, good internet. It's a DRM-free book, which means Audible won't carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/17/popular-front-of-judea/#speaking-frankly

#pluralistic #sy hersh #theories of change #third parties #us politics #thomas frank #unions #labor #organized labor #civil rights movement #black lives matter #dinos #entryism #occupy democrats

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moonacrefarm · 2 months

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anticipating love

summary: your parents marriage didn’t survive the test of time and neither did you first love.

contains: childhood friends to lovers to strangers, second-chance romance, angst, hurt/comfort, slight miscommunication, fluff, 18+ series, mentions of stalking, mentions of cancer, no mention of y/n

authors note: so...uh, here it is :D

series masterlist

next part | 02. never hesitating

01. watching, i keep waiting

It felt like clockwork. An annual phone call from your estranged father, asking for a few life updates before awkwardly ending the call. This time, the silence hung in the air longer than the usual three minutes, a quiet hesitation you stuck around for.

Beau "Cyclone" Simpson was known for being a stickler for the rules; strict and to the point. He wasn't a natural-made family man; your mom accused him of hiding in his work and neglecting his duties as a husband and father. It was the last argument they had before she stuffed you in the backseat of her car.

They hadn't seen each other since.

However, this time, the anxiety could be felt through the phone, "Dad? Is there something else you need?" You inquired.

He sighed, "How… How's your mother?" The edge that settled in his voice finally clicked. He knew. A few deep breaths later and you gathered the strength to speak.

"She's…getting better. The doctor said there's hope." Silence followed again. It felt as if time slowed before he spoke again, “There’s a doctor here in San Diego who can treat her. We never divorced so… if she wants to I can…” He went quiet for a moment. “I know the move would be taxing but you guys would be closer to family and—”

“I'm not sure if she would want that, dad.” You spoke softly, gently cutting him short. “I've tried to convince her to take the recommendation, but…you have to speak to her.” Further silence followed. You could almost hear his heart hammering over the phone.

Your parent's relationship was a mystery to you. They’d never divorced but you were uprooted and planted halfway across the country when they separated. Your father didn’t fight and your mom didn’t have it in her to keep up with him. He’d prioritized his career over his family, and you knew he regretted it following your and your mother's departure.

Sure, you’d seen him sparsely throughout the years, receiving birthday gifts and visiting for holidays, but the damage had been done.

"Alright. You're right. I'll try to talk to her as well." He conceded. You didn't respond, whispering a soft goodbye before pivoting towards the window.

Observing as your mother tended to her garden, humming along with the radio. You had made a home in Virginia, but was it home? Both of your mother’s and father’s families were on the West Coast and the state held bitter memories after a failed engagement.

She'd always been stubborn, and while you weren't your father's advocate, you couldn't lose her. You understood this was her best option, yet she refused to take it.

It felt like days they spent speaking over the phone. Your father fighting tooth and nail to match your mother.

“You can’t honestly expect me to move halfway across the country for a maybe.” She spat. You couldn’t hear your father’s response but whatever he said softened her, wilting as her eyes filled with tears. She glanced at you. “Fine. We’ll see you then.” Her shoulders slumped as she made her way towards you, plopping on the couch and leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Pack your swimsuit. We’re going home.”

Phone calls had been made, flights booked, boxes shipped and suddenly you were standing in your childhood room. Not much had changed, except for the piled-up boxes that had been pushed into the corner. Memories hung around like outdated decor, a bitter taste filling your mouth.

A light knock jerked you out of your stupor.

“I didn’t know what to do…so I left it as it was.”Your father stood at the door. His frame taking up most of the space.

You inhaled a shaky breath, “Do you think it will work?” The fragility in your voice was noticeable as he inspected your face with a crease in his brows, lips pursed. “I hope so.”

Not much else was said as you continued to unpack. Mentally running through your to-do list for the next month and a half. Your mom had a doctor's appointment set for next week, and all you could hope for was promising news in the meantime.

Your mother's illness put a hiatus on your life. Her diagnosis turned your axis on its head; stability gone in a wink. Now you were unsure. Unsure of your future, of time, of her future. You decided to take time off of work and dip into your savings, this move wouldn’t strain you. If you were lucky, you’d be able to find a job near base, hopefully in some clinic. You couldn’t focus on patients when you’d see your mother in everyone. Time lost in your career wouldn’t compare to the time you valued with your mother.

While strolling through the house, you noticed your old family photos hadn’t been moved. Not a speck of dust to be seen in the home as you glanced at your parents in the living room. The tension was easy to notice. It permeated the air and left a heavy feeling in your lungs.

Words were waiting to be said you didn't want to be around for the aftermath. Not only to spare yourself from the debris of their approaching fight but also to give yourself the freedom to reset. Your emotional turmoil was eating you alive you needed some time to breathe.

“I’m gonna go visit Penny, she said to head down the bar once we were settled.” A swift kiss on your mother's cheek while she murmured, “Send her my regards.”

San Diego was a time capsule, the neighborhoods aging while the city was ever-changing. Familiar streets diverging off to ones you didn’t recognize. It’d only been a few years since you’d last come down and somehow that was enough time to reinvent the city.

Hard Deck itself had seemed the same, the amiable environment and ocean breeze skimming your cheeks. You’d arrived before the pub opened, approaching with excitement and allowing the bell to signal your arrival.

“Here I thought you were gonna stand me up?” Penny glanced over you with shining eyes, “Looks like at least oneSimpson can keep a promise.” A grin filled her face as she embraced you, her hug providing the warmth and consolation you needed after a massive move. “Where’s your mother?”

“Having it out with my dad” She winced.

“No wonder you got here before the bar opened.” You two shared a knowing look. You knew Penny had questions. Your mother was private about her sickness and never disclosed details. She even attempted to keep things from you. “Mom is down to see a doctor who might be able to help. I don’t know how the hell dad convinced us to share a roof but here we are.” You shrugged, wrapping behind the bar for a waist-apron.

Penny understood, bouncing her head as she gave you a gentle smile, “She's a determined woman. I believe she'll beat its ass before it even thinks twice about getting her.”

A faint huff came out of your mouth, “You know, you’re not wrong…” Before you could continue, Penny chimed in.

“There's a reason they referred to her as Hurricane, not only to piss off your dad but being an admirals daughter made her tough. Hell, your grandfather could barely keep her in check. He said he could control your mother or do his job.”

Laughter filled the bar, resounding through the empty building. The two of you calmed down, and you nodded your head in mortification, arranging some of the spirits as she continued.

“Hey, there's a reason we call you a little spitfire. Your dad and your mom? Of course, they'd create a vixen.”

A delicate smile graced your face, "I missed you, Penny." You admitted, "And I you. It’s not every day I get to see my favorite niece.” She tapped your nose as she turned to clean the bar top.

“Penny, I’m your only niece.”

“Details, details..” She hitched a tub of glass cups on her hips, waving you off, “If you aren’t gonna get to work, I’m gonna have to throw you overboard. We got a boat docked today.” You giggled at your aunt’s antics, appreciating her ability to keep the conversation light.

Penny glimpsed at you curiously, “Have you talked to….anyone else since you got back?” You understood what she asking without having her clarify. “Just some family members.” She gave you the eye, “But no. Haven’t spoken to Bradley in eight years and counting.”

“I thought you guys reconciled after you both graduated?”

“Not really. We talked sure, but we hadn’t spoken between then and when we finally did, things went to shit.”

Penny bobbed her head in understanding. "Stick jockeys… the only thing that keeps them grounded is insubordination." A huff fell off your lips as you got busy moving between tables. The crowd came in all at once, hordes of uniforms tottering in, some with arm candy, others eyeing for arm candy. This kept you in constant motion; gathering up drinks, bringing refills, making cocktails, and dancing around the jukebox.

The throng kept you light-headed, and you were thankful for it.

Groups of locals, navy sailors, and aviators cheered, drank, and sang. You were grabbing a refill for someone at the bar as Penny flirted with someone who looked vaguely familiar; he flashed her a warm smile as you tried to place him.

The distraction was short-lived when you took a pool stick to the hip. Your tray tilting into the hands of an arrogant aviator, his grin cocksure as he glanced you up and down, “Sorry dove,” He started, restacking the glasses, “I didn’t—”

“Careful.” You warned. “Disrespect a lady and get the bell.” Your finger pointed as a mischievous smile graced your face, “I think a pool stick to the hip is reason enough, no?” Your hands had been itching all night to ring the bell, it’d be a while.

“What if I help you carry this tray of glasses to the bar and work on an apology for you?” His green eyes filled with mirth, both of you enjoying this small pissing match.

“Much obliged.” You dumped the tray in his unsuspecting hands and he stumbled to keep it upright. Some of his fellow aviators cheered you, amused by the exchange. You made your way behind the bar as he handed you the tray, “Sorry for sticking it ya...” He pondered off, massaging the back of his neck, “Didn’t know you were behind me, I wouldn’t have gone so far back if I did.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“If I ask for refills would that ruin the apology?” He grins sheepishly.

You barked out a laugh, “What if I charge you double for your beers and consider it even?”

“Sold!”

He skimmed you over one more time. “Can I get your name on the side?” Silence fell between you two as you reached for the beers. He leaned on the bar, relaxing as he drew everyone's gaze towards him.

You let out a small laugh, deciding to toy with him a bit. "Callsign?" He knotted his brows together, "Hangman." You bobbed your head. "Top Gun graduate?" He nodded once again. You leaned in next to his ear, your voice quiet, "Piece of advice, Lieutenant….” You glanced into his eyes, whispering, “You might not want to hit on the daughter of the vice-admiral."

You didn't typically pull out your dad's rank, but this time it was worth it. His mug slipped, paling slightly. "They call me little Simpson. But hush,” You dragged a finger over your lips, “This is a secret between you and me.” You gave a small smirk. "Here are your beers sir," He didn't say another word as he toddled back towards his table, his crowd hollering at his stupefied disposition.

The sun had just started to set, disappearing behind the horizon and you called Penny for your break. You tucked away your apron as she took over, pumping cocktails and drinks out with ease. “I’m heading down to the shore for a bit, I missed California sunsets.”

“Remember, I need you back in 15!” She called after you, too occupied flirting.

The sand was warm and the breeze was gentle. Allowing yourself to unwind as you sit in the sand, resting your head on your knees, you listened to the hustle and bustle of the bar in back of you. Your aunt had run the bell and someone just got thrown overboard. You watched as the same aviator from before was one of the few that carried the old-timer out.

You still couldn’t place him but decided to let it go. You could ask Penny about it later.

A familiar tune of piano keys causes your spine to straighten. Nausea twisted itself in your stomach as goosebumps peppered your skin. You stood up, listening for his voice as he started singing, still incapable to believe it unless you see him.

You peeked, treading cautiously towards the window.

And there he was.

Sitting at the piano bench, singing the same song Carole hummed in the kitchen when she babysat you. His fingers danced on the keys as he commanded the room, bobbing his head as he sang. He had a fuller build, aviators sloped on his nose with an open Hawaiian shirt. The same one Carole said he could wear once he was old enough for it to fit him.

Dread spread through your limbs as time stalled. Penny would understand if you left now. You’d just have to run in and grab your things. You’d be gone before he noticed you.

The hesitation only worsened when he raised his eyes and that confidence was taken over by surprise. It was only a second but it was enough to jerk you into action. Descending into the crowd, you concealed yourself between bodies as you escaped towards the back to grab your keys.

The song wasn’t quite finished yet. He kept up his performance and you didn’t have it in you to match him today. “Penny—”

“Go. I know now isn’t the time.” You embraced her tightly, swearing to drop by tomorrow and complete your shift, but right now you needed to go, and having a face-off with the man who broke your heart isn’t what you needed. Maybe later, but not now, it would be too much.

The air hit your flushed cheeks, catching your breath from the sudden intrusion. You glanced up one more time before trekking to your car, watching him bask in the ambiance of the crowd cheering him on, arms spread out to take in the energy. It didn’t last long before his gaze set itself on you, making his way through the crowd with a smile. Anyone would miss it, but you weren’t anyone. His face was tight and he walked stiffer than his usual gait.

You hadn’t seen Bradley Bradshaw since you were 26, and before that, since you were 18. You’d been raised together since you could remember.

It was now or never, you could spilt at the last moment and very evidently run or you could hesitate and let him catch up to you.

Whatever options you had evaporated as the door opened. It moved slowly, and you held your breath.

In that moment you felt foolish, why did you need to hide? He was the one that left you that morning. He was the one that didn’t answer your phone calls and refused to reach out. Outrage simmered in your throat as you felt it flush in your ears. Why hide when you could bury the hatchet here and let him have it?

He slowed as he got nearer as if he could never reach you no matter how far or fast he walked. He dangled his aviators on the neck of his tank, gathering himself. His gaze followed you up and down, leaving a burn wherever you felt his stare.

“Bradley ‘The Brave’ Bradshaw.” You spat.

He winced narrowly at your tone. Wonder steeling his bones as he was rendered speechless.

“How was the last…what? Decade? It’s been almost a decade since I’ve seen you. Phew time just flies. Doesn’t it?” You folded your arms over your chest, standing at attention as he just stared.

He didn't talk for a while. Breathing as he thought, chewing his bottom lip, just like he always did when he was unsure what to say.

“Good talk.” You headed for your car before he grasped your wrist, a gentle tug but one loaded with desperation. “I…” He paused again.

"Fuck, I don't know what to say." He rubbed his forehead, taking a swig of his beer. "I mean, I didn't have time to prepare a script and all." He motioned around, catching his failed attempt at a laugh.

"I'm sorry." He blurted. You both stood dumbfounded, just in surprise at each other's company. "I should've written, or texted, or emailed. I shouldn't have…." He trailed off as if shame carried his voice away.

“Oh wow. He thinks too. Isn't that convenient?” Your biting remark was followed by a snort, “Apology not accepted. It was shitty of you to leave me like that, knowing what was going on and deciding I wasn’t worth even a goodbye. You didn’t even say goodbye Bradley.”

Tears lined your eyes as bitterness warmed you, “I thought I wouldn’t be so mad at you after all these years. Believed that if I ran right now I could put it behind me but no…the years we spent together meant nothing when you left like that.” Your voice hardened with your resolve.

His grasp slackened on your wrist, “Then why did you come back? Thought you would’ve had the wedding by now.” He cocked his head to the side, aggravating you in the process.

“No.” You spit the words out, “Called the engagement off when he said my mother’s illness wasn’t worth the trouble.” Bradley stood dumbstruck, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. It wasn’t often Bradley lost his composure, he had to be able to keep his head on tight if he was flying a jet. In this moment, he felt ill. He didn’t even know.

“She’s…She’s sick?”

You puffed out air, understanding that while you may seething, Bradley still cared for your mother. She took him in when Carole passed and Pete left him with nothing but a dim future. As much as you hated him, you understood that hearing about your mother's illness hurt. He loved her like family and he didn’t have much of that left.

“Bye Bradley.” You shook him off as he trailed after you, this time a bit brisk.

“What do you mean she's sick? Is it a cold, is it the flu?” Panic rested in his eyes as he scrutinized at you. Scanning your face for answers.

Your eyes bore into the asphalt. “It’s stage four Bradley.” You said feebly, the topic weighing you down as if sandbags had been placed on your shoulders, “The doctor said there might be a chance but we don’t know yet.”

He stood rigid, processing this information as grief seized his throat. Squeezing tight until he could barely speak. “I-I didn’t know or else I would’ve…”

“Would’ve what? Finally, called? You cut me off and I made do with it, but my mother? She loved you like one of her own and you just left.”

He rubbed his face. Palms shielding his eyes as he took a few breaths in, “At the time, I couldn’t have stayed. You may not understand why but I couldn’t stay.”

“Or you just didn’t want to.” His eyes shot up towards you, “You know that isn’t why I left. You know damn well.”

“No, I don’t. I woke up the next morning with nothing but your old pair of aviators and some dog tags. The bed was cold and I was alone.” You both had a stare-off, clearly oblivious of what the other was thinking.

You just puffed and watch as Bradley stood there, in all his aviator glory, allowing the anger that filled your body to tide you in. Electricity pooled into your palms and you tried not to slap him, all you could process was that anger, just anger anger anger. It was all you had that wasn’t grief.

Whether he was here or not, it didn't matter. You were too cross to articulate any of it. Years of bottled emotions popping open before you could process them. Stillness suspended itself in the air again, gripping both of you by the neck.

“I need to go.” You said firmly, “I just… I can't handle you right now. Not now.”

Slipping into your car, you give him one last look. He was impassive, closing himself off so he didn’t have to process it.

It wasn’t your problem anyway, you just needed to get home.

#bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rocky’s masterlist⚘#bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine

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