#mave speaks

[themagical1sa]

My brain won't stop playing PANDORA on loop. aaaaaaaa

Call me MAVE:, catch the wave! We'll rewrite history!

Stream PANDORA (and the Extended ver. too)!

#[ 🗣️ | the magical girl speaks ] #ft. my brain #MAVE CATCH THE WAVE #mave: #pandora #mave: pandora #kpop

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Hello! Could you please write a stubborn, jealous hc for Miguel o'hara? Thank you!!

I had the brainworms, so I hope this is what you were looking for! Thanks for the ask <3

Jealous!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: jealous!Miguel O'Hara x reader

summary: stubborn HCs for jealous!Miguel O'Hara. 

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble and i basically wrote a full fic. i have zero self control lmfao

warnings: smut (fingering, f receiving oral, slight brat taming, etc) right at the very end, 18+ from then onwards, the rest is more pg-13

wc: 3.5k ish

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

Long story short: he's a stubborn little shit.

Pig-headed as fuck and it shows up in little things. 

Let's say you first met as coworkers, and you were a lab technician at Alchemax. 

Think: unstoppable force meets immovable object. He likes his labs just so, with very specific equipment in a very specific configuration. 

It drives you crazy, regularly having tiffs outside the labs; much to the chagrin of your coworkers. 

"Jesus." Your coworker mutters, wincing at the seemingly heated argument by the water cooler. 

"Ignore it, Maeve." Another coworker rolls their eyes, nudging Mave with a snort. "They're at it again . S'pose they'll tire each other out by the end of the day."

Not that they were wrong. But this time, it wasn't your fault: dealing with O'Hara's bullshit had really taken it's toll. He was insufferable, prone to nitpicking and just plain mean. You could hardly be blamed if you gave him some of your own choice words. 

"My notes were basically paint-by-fucking-numbers!  How could you mess up a simple distillation? When I specify precision glassware , you don't think that's fucking important?" 

"Your notes ," You draw air quotes pointedly at him. "-are illegible, you fucking cretin! Maybe if you didn't write like a goddamn pre-schooler-"

"- preschooler? Oh , fuck you!" 

"Get your nose out of that highschool Chem textbook, O'Hara, this is a fucking job."

"Yeah? Stop using it to wipe your ass and you might learn a thing or two."

"Oh , so that's what we're doing?" You laugh in his face, so angry your hand curls into tight fists. You get close, staring him down as you look upwards through your lashes. His own face is contorted into a grimace; bushy eyebrows furrowed into deep shadows around his eyes. You can feel his steady breathing before he speaks, low and rumbling. 

"I could do this all day, princesa. " 

You scoff, ignoring the way his words weaken your knees. The one time you asked for a break during a long lab and he won't stop calling you a spoilt princess. His laughter then stings in your ears now, the ghost of a smirk on his face as you storm off. Miguel O'Hara: smug bastard. He would be the death of you, you're sure. 

~~~

You spend many a late night with him, unwittingly, and find out he's more than a stubborn little shit. 

You find out he's funny, and shares the same anti-Alchemax tendencies you do: both preyed upon by the company immediately after graduation, young and naive. 

He's kind, even though he'd never admit it, often finishing up the lab notes and doing more than his fair share of work so you can go home at a reasonable time. 

You both still butt heads, but it turns into a tentative friendship - coffees in the morning hidden as blaise convenience, covering for each other at work, and defending the other when office gossip goes too far. 

That's why when he comes back to work after a week-long stint away - something about a blow up with the boss, an issue described as 'miscommunication, promptly smoothed over' by anyone official - you notice… something's different about him. 

You first noticed something was off when he walked in without a snide remark. You left a mug overnight at the counter, something that would usually draw a sarcastic comment at the least , but he gives you… nothing. Blank, glassy eyes as he opens up his workstation - clicking away at the keys without so much as a glance.

"O'Hara?" You call, but he doesn't even look up. You walk to his workstation and knock at the desk. He jumps. God, he looks worse for the wear. Heavy bags under his eyes and a bruise blossoming under his collar. 

"You okay?" 

He rubs his temples, eyes flitting up at you.  "Yeah, just…. just a long week, s'all." 

You put a hand on his shoulder, and you swear he leans into your touch. "We can reschedule, tonight. The calculations can wait, Miguel."

He gives you a weak smile, but a smile nevertheless. "S'okay. Need to make sure you don't fuck it up."

"Don't push your luck, O'Hara."

~~~

As you get closer, you notice just how stubborn he is to admit the growing tension between you two. 

Late nights at the lab turn into takeout at your place, morning coffee turns into a pleasant 20 minutes on the rooftop away from the hustle and bustle - just you and Miguel, talking and joking with a cup of shitty coffee in hand. 

Wholly, he seems more assertive at work, not as quick to roll over. 

It's hot, you have to admit; watching him fight with someone else other than you. 

You're at work drinks with the other technicians and engineers, nursing a watery beer when another colleague makes small talk with you at the bar.

You’ve never been that close to him, and the conversation is amicable enough, but you’re almost bowled over when you see Miguel, in the corner, staring straight at you with a stormy look.

You suppose it's a little pathetic, getting all dressed up for a casual drink. Lips shiny with gloss and gently powdered with makeup, you feel a little out of place. For all your talk at work, actually being here was another thing. Suddenly, your blouse is too tight and your skirt too short. With a manicured finger, you trace the lip of your glass filled with watery beer. You sigh. You don't want to admit it, but you were only here because of Miguel. He said he would come, and now you're sitting on a barstool counting the chips in your glass. 

It was probably for the best. You sink into the absentminded chatter of your colleagues around you, until there's a tap at your shoulder. 

"Is someone-" He clears his throat; a tall man dressed in a sharp suit nodding gracefully towards the empty chair. "-is this seat taken?" 

You shake your head, grateful for the company. He's handsome, sharp features curving into a wry grin as he calls for a drink. 

"...and something other than shitty beer for the pretty girl, too." It makes you laugh, light and lilting in the bustle of the bar. 

He stretches out his hand, and you take it. 

"Eddie Crouch. I work in marketing."

Eddie…. as in… head of the most profitable division of Alchemax? Your eyes widen involuntarily and you try to clamp down your immediate shock, somewhat unsuccessfully. He narrows his eyes as you tumble over your words. 

"Y-Yeah, same! I mean, not same , I just work in the l-labs and I thought it was just for us guys, working behind the curtain, y'know? Not that we're not thrilled to have you here, because we a-are." You spill out, wincing. "....Is this about the performance reviews? Because I know output was down this quarter but our projections are-"

"I'm not here to talk about work." He chuckles. You squint, not convinced. As if to alleviate your concerns, he loosens his tie and undoes his top buttons with a flourish. 

"Can I tell you a secret?" He leans in, and the air becomes thick with expensive perfume. He twirls the signet ring on his finger, a ring probably worth more than your monthly paycheck. 

"Your boss invited me," Discreetly, he stretches a finger at your boss; a man ruddy cheeked and red-faced with alcohol. "Guess he thought it would boost morale. He's a fucking idiot if he thinks having me, the one guy that could fire your entire department without recourse, exchange empty platitudes would boost morale. But, I digress. So here I am, dragging my feet to this bar, thinking I'm gonna get in, read the lines and get out. But then, " He pauses with dramatic effect. "I see the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, just sitting by the bar. Like everyone isn't already falling over themselves to talk to you."

The irony is palpable. It's sickly sweet, and a line that wouldn't usually work on you. But usually, you weren't pining over a man so prickly and stubborn, you shouldn't have feelings for. Here you were, bright cocktail in front of you and a moderately attractive man by your side. He wasn't quite Miguel, but in the words of one of the greatest thinkers of the past age: country girls make do. 

And so you make lazy conversation with the man. So lost in a tipsy haze, you barely notice Miguel walk in; dark jacket on his shoulders and deliciously loose slacks. You're drawn to him, his eyes seemingly searching the room, and you sigh into your drink. Technically, he looks like shit: eyes dark-rimmed and sunken, a cut at his brow. You think he is gorgeous, eyes tracing the slope of his nose and plush lips. Like he can sense it, he glances over in your direction and you look away hastily. He's watching , you can feel its burn as you turn, pretending to listen to the man besides you. A little cruelly, you lean into him, not breaking eye contact and curling a hand around his arm to laugh at a stupid joke. Eddie laughs with you, oblivious, as you glance behind him. 

Miguel stands with a drink thrust into his hands, looking straight through him, eyes low and gazing at you. 

~~~

He insists on walking you home, a steady hand on the small of your back as you stumble through the streets of Nueva York.

You make light conversation, tipsy and giggly from the alcohol. Miguel seems a little more put together, but his chest still creaks with rumbling laughter.

He definitely walks on the side of the pavement nearest the street, because he thinks it keeps you safer. 

He walks you up the stairs and by the door of your apartment, like a gentleman. You watch him get nervous suddenly, and he hesitates, stubbornly digging in his heels and pausing you from opening the door and coming in. 

You don't want it to end, opting to take the walk up the stairs as opposed to the lift. It's one of your more questionable decisions as you stumble up the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. Miguel is quick to catch you even though he was just as drunk. Arm around your waist, he leaves searing touches to your hip. You giggle despite yourself, and he can't help but smile at your clumsiness. 

"If you break your legs I won't carry you, princesa ." A lie and you both know it. He would carry you to the ends of the earth like a blushing bride, if you asked him. 

You both stagger to up the stairs and through the corridor until you reach your front door. You rummage around your bag for your keycard, it's contents click-clacking in the quiet of the hallway. Miguel watches, quieter than he was in the journey. If you looked up now, you would see something else behind his eyes - a storm of apprehension and tension. 

You find your keycard, and look up to find Miguel placing a careful palm on the door. He's surprisingly still, eyes on your lips as he steps closer. You look everywhere but to meet his eyes, tracing the curve of his collarbone, the slope of his exposed forearm, and the tempting juncture of his strong jaw. You watch it tense, as he brings a gentle hand to your chin. His thumb swipes over the fat of your lip. 

"Got somethin' right… there." He mumbles, before tucking his hand away. You can barely breathe. Without thinking you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together like a gentle hug. You bring his hand to your waist, and he squeezes, ever so gently. Your hand drops and he moves his slowly, knuckles dragging along the smooth silk of your blouse, and then sending shivers when he reaches your bare neck. 

He has to bite down the plethora of things running through his head - his drunken brain threatening to spill all his thoughts. You are so beautiful and soft it makes him short-circuit, desperate to pull you close. Instead, you do: hand inching up his chest and laying to rest on his shoulders. 

He kisses you, finally ; a little messy and impossibly soft. Like his lips on yours would shatter you both. You deepen the kiss and wrap his arm tighter around you, angling your chin to drink up even more of you. You both come up for air, panting in the heat of one another. Miguel's eyes are full of lust and blown out. 

"Do…do you want to come in?" You whisper. 

Something catches in his throat and his expression changes, like he just woke up from a dream. Do you just want to sleep with him? He's not built for one night stands, can't do just sex, especially if it's you. No matter how much he wants to, he can't, he won't, "....I shouldn't."

The disappointment on your face is palpable. You want to ask why - after he kissed you like that - why doesn't he want you? Instead you nod dejectedly. He gives you a chaste kiss on the forehead, lingering, and a shaky smile. 

You open your door with a buzz, and slam it in his face. 

~~~

It takes Miguel some time to properly put a name to what you two have: not knowing if the kiss was a drunken mistake, animal attraction or something more. 

He's not a grand gestures kind of person, he believes in action rather than words. 

Which is why it takes so long for him to admit just how in love with you he is. 

He steals glances at you all the time at the office, and tries to anticipate  all your needs. 

When you stretch and yawn in the morning, he happens to pass by your favourite coffee place and happens to buy one too many cups of your go-to order. 

So imagine his shock when he arrives from his lunch break, churros and coffee in hand, and there's one of the top brass from the night at the bar perched on your desk - 2 polystyrene cupfuls of something half drunk on the desk. 

He's never been insecure, but he can't help but feel possessive, something tense and tight growing at the base of his stomach. 

"What was it you wanted to talk about?" You step into the equipment cupboard, Miguel close behind you. You rub your temples, anticipating an argument. "O'Hara, if this is about my calibration tests this morning, I swear to God -" 

"No, no , nothing like that." He's quick to say. "They were… okay." He strains. 

You raise an eyebrow. Okay? Since when did Miguel pass up an opportunity for a mindless fight? Your mind races with his actions of the past few days. He has been different since the night at the bar, a little nicer, sure, but nothing this out of the ordinary. 

"That guy you were talking to. I saw him at the bar, and now here. Who is he?" 

Your eyebrows shoot up. "You do not have the right to ask me th-" 

"Are you fucking him?" A pause, and you study his expression, deducing that he is completely fucking serious . 

"Are you insane? You definitely don't have the right to ask me that." You make for the door, and he steps in front of it, blocking it with his body. 

"I need to know. Tell me and then I'll leave you alone, I promise." His voice is low and thick with something. 

You step closer and he wraps his hands around your waist absentmindedly. The pressure feels good, and makes your brain fog up. 

He repeats himself, softer. "Are you fucking him?" 

You look at him for a moment, before shaking your head. His facial expression  is steady, just as unreadable. 

"Do you want to?" 

You hesitate, wanting to be cruel and say yes, just to see his reaction. Perceptive, he sees your hesitance and says something that almost knocks you over. 

"I could fuck you better than he ever could," He kneads your thigh now, lips close to the shell of your ear in the tight space of the cupboard. " Princesa , look at me." 

You look at him, almost whimpering and putty in his hands. He's like a siren and you are lost in the pull of his gaze. It may be the proximity, but you swear you see a tinge of red in his eyes, like deep pools of lust. 

"Will you let me fuck you?" He pulls you closer so the meat of his thigh presses against your clothed cunt. Your stretchy pencil skirt rides up suggestively, and you rock your clit against him, searching for sweet pressure. You nod. 

Miguel titters softly, a hand on your chin pulling your lips to his. You moan into his kiss, body aching. It's hot and heavy like the kiss outside your door, but he swirls his tongue around yours and expertly nips at your lower lip. He guides your hips to rock against his thigh, tensing to make sure it's corded muscle hits the right places. He wants to break you apart, leave you so cock-drunk, you wouldn't think of even glancing at another man. 

You separate and he dips a hand under your skirt. He pulls it up and places a big palm at your pussy, with a well timed slap. You bite into his neck with the pressure. You definitely don't expect it when he rips open your stockings like they were paper. 

"Fuck, Miguel." 

"It's okay, baby, I'll get you new ones." Your eyes roll back as he slips aside the gusset to run a finger through your lower lips. Shamelessly, he slips a finger in, then two, basking in the wet squelch of your heat. You claw at his forearm, as he curls them into that sweet spot. 

You press your forehead to his shoulder, chasing his fingers with your hips. His sharp eyes watch every movement, every stutter and start that his fingers pull from you. He's practical, a man of action, and he is desperate to show you how much he cares. 

"I've thought about you… about this." He hisses as you cover your mouth to dampen your moans. 

"Wanted you for so long, princesa. Want to know how you taste, what this beautiful pussy feels like. What you look like when you cum."

His wrist aches with the back and forth motion but his pace barely faulters. 

" M-Miguel …"

He applies pressure to your clit, and watches in awe as you spasm, nails digging into his forearm. 

" Oh, there it is. Right there, hmm? Does that feel good?" 

You nod frantically with a stifled sob. 

"Not quite, baby. Need to hear you say it. Or I won't let you cum."

"...fuuck you."

" Oh, you'd like that. Still not what I want to hear. Tell me how much you like it when I fuck you with my fingers."

"F-Feels good." You stutter. He stops, wrenching his hand out of your pussy to leave you clenching around nothing.You almost scream.

"You're being a brat, not my princesa , hmm? Only good girls get to cum."

" Miguel , please. I'll do anything." He guides you along his thigh, still lodged between your legs, and licks up your wetness on his other hand. "You m-make me feel so good. So good. And I want you so much it hurts, sometimes. I just want to cum, don't even need your cock. Fuck me with something , please." 

"Miguel? Not asshole? Or fucking idiot, this time?" 

"Please, Miguel ." Your pleas go straight to his cock. He throbs with need, cock rock hard under his slacks. 

He relents, not able to bear your dopey puppy-dog eyes for much longer. He slips three fingers in, without bothering to prep you. He hisses at the tightness of your heat, pounding into you and knuckle deep with his fingers. Shamelessly, you fuck yourself back on them, hips rolling over his thigh. He can't tear himself away from the sight, palming himself through tented trousers. 

You kiss and nip at his neck, as he whispers obscenities at you under his breath. 

"Can you cum for me, princesa? Cum f'me, and I'll take care of you, I promise."

You clamp down on his fingers and moan into a kiss as you ride out your orgasm. It's intense: leg-shaking and leaves you shuddering in the aftermath. You were rusty, sure, hadn't had sex with someone in a while. But Miguel made you cum so hard you saw stars, with only his fingers. Your chest heaves with the thought. 

You thought he would leave you, torn stockings and all, in the little cupboard. But he stays, to sink down to his knees and lap at your folds. You rest a hand on a shelf for purchase, head back in bliss. You cunt is still sensitive, throbbing at the orgasm he's just given you, as you licks you clean. He's taking care of you. You card your hands into his hair, tugging gently as he moans into your pussy. 

He gives your clit a gentle kiss, and swipes up a trailing tear that rolls down your inner thigh. You watch as he pops his fingers into your mouth, cleaning off the cum. Your cum. 

Miguel gives you a lazy grin in the bare bulb of the equipment closet. He seems completely unfazed by the fact his fingers were in you not a moment ago. 

"Are you free after work?" He asks, and it takes a moment for you to process. 

"Uhhh… s-sure. Probably?" 

"Let me take you for dinner, somewhere nice."

All you can do is nod, dumbly, ripped stockings still around your ankles. 

"And then I can fuck you properly, princesa." 

_

_

_

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #light angst #kat_writes😼 #miguel o hara x reader #headcanon #miguel o'hara headcanons #jealousy

[desert-fern]

A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader

Part 13: I’m Not Gonna Lose You Now

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

*Image is not mine, found on Pinterest*

Chapter title from Lindsay Sterling and Mako’s song Lose You Now

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Warnings: blood, death, kidnapping, murder, guns, knives, fighting, straight angst people

Word Count: 2.3k

Masterlist >> Part 12 >> Part 14

===

Numbness was a funny feeling. Bear could feel the sand under her palms, the tears running down her face, but not the stillness that had worked its way into her body, sitting on her chest and making it hard to breathe. Yet somehow, through the gaping hole that seemed to have opened in her chest, she still found enough strength to stand. “…ar? Bear? Can you hear me?” FAK was crouched in front of her, their hand waving in front of her unfocused eyes. “Bear?”

“Yes,” she rasped out. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Yes, I can hear you.”

FAK nodded, hand rifling to find the penlight they kept in their bag. “Just a bit of a bright light here,” they began, going to shine it in her eyes.

Bear batted the medic’s hand away. “I’m-I’m fine. Just…just stop.” But her tone was hollow and empty, much like how her heart felt at this particular moment.

Her comms were a mess of screaming pilots all demanding orders for something, anything they could do. “Daggers. Return to base. Now,” Bear managed to say weakly.

“Bear, he could be hurt!” Halo argued. She and the others had done their last drop and were now trying to frantically locate their wingman in the darkness.

“No. This is a direct order.” Her heart broke even more at these words. His team wanted to find him, they were demanding that they help her. But she wouldn’t risk it. She couldn’t risk it. She had already lost one of her men, and now Jake. No one else was dying tonight. Not if she had any say in it.

“Bear…please,” Coyote tried, his own voice thick with emotion. “You have to let us help find him.”

“I said no, Coyote,” Bear replied in a voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not losing anyone else.”

The comms fell silent. No one wanted to leave Jake behind. Hangman was gone and the world seemed darker for it. He might have been a cocky shit, but he was their friend, their teammate, and someone they had all trusted with their lives. And now, in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

“Maverick. Alpha team 1, 2, and 4 returning home,” Bear spoke tearfully to the older pilot, who sat in stunned silence, staring at the table in front of him. “Alpha 3 shot down by enemy ground forces. Presumed KIA.” Her voice shook, emotion making it hard to speak those last two words. The confirmation of what had just taken place was too much to say aloud, and Bear let out a muffled sob, trying her best to stay professional.

Overhead three planes flew by, each carrying pilots quietly mourning a man whom they all admired in secret, but had never told that to his face. The same could be said for those left on base. Rooster sat in stunned silence in the cockpit of his jet, mind blank. Everything he had said to Jake before, if only he could take part of it back. If he could just tell him that he admired him, or that Jake was-. The ‘was’ threw him. One minute he was there, grinning and teasing, the next, he was gone. He was reduced to past tense in a matter of seconds.

Bear, like Rooster and Maverick, stood in silence. Each one mourning the man they knew. Maverick mourned a young pilot, mourned for him like he had mourned for his own RIO 40 years ago and still did today. Rooster and the Daggers mourned a friend, a teammate, and a damn good pilot, leaving Bear to grieve in silence for the man she had slowly and suddenly fallen in love with.

The world was quiet. Everyone around Bear was eyeing one another, unsure on how to proceed. They had never seen her like this before, quiet and still. That wasn’t their Commander. But Bug quickly took charge, directing everyone to pack up the evidence found and place the remaining bodies in their bags, being careful to do so out of Bear’s line of sight.

The woman in question stepped away from the crowd of people, trying to give herself room to process. Nothing could have prepared her for this moment. Laughing darkly, Bear brushed her tears away. “Someone is having a fucking field day now, huh. Guess this is karma for being too scared to make a move,” she spat, her pain turning to anger. And she was furious. They took him from her. They didn’t give her a chance to say goodbye. And now Bear was left standing alone on the sand, struggling to comprehend everything.

But what she didn’t know was that way back by the compound stood a group of men, watching her with poorly concealed humor in their eyes. “The mighty Bear brought to her knees because a man died,” one of them chuckled. “Guess Miller was right. Saif’s intel was good.”

“Watch it,” hissed another. “Bug is getting close. I am not going to prison because one of you couldn’t keep your mouths shut.”

“Shut the fuck up, you dick. This was your idea. If anyone is going down, it’s you.”

A few more hushed words were exchanged before they dispersed to “help” with the clean up. In reality, photos were being secretly taken and would be sent to al-Hameed’s spy network, who would take this information to the IJU and use it to plan attacks in the name of their fallen leader.

All was going according to plan.

Except for Flare racing over to Bear, her eyes wide. “Echo 5 saw a chute, he must have ejected!” the woman cried out.

Bear froze. Just like that, a burst of heat flared open in her heart, filling the once gaping void with hope. “FAK, get your gear. You, me, Chip, Daisy, and the Tweedles are going after him. Bug, you are in charge until I get back. If anyone has a problem with that, then too bad. Am I clear?” Bear ordered.

“Yes ma’am. Bring him home.” Bug nodded, whistling for the others to continue what they were doing as Bear and the other piled into a helicopter, following the directions of Echo 5 who had eyes on Jake.

Bear’s hand was shaking the entire time they were airborne. She and the others scanned the desert for any sign of the truck that had shot Jake down, but to no avail. Nothing moved in the desert below them, and once again, the not knowing made everything ten times worse. The pilot flew them out past the watch of the two other Echo teams, Bear having to turn at the sight of the debris casting blacker shadows on the ground in spite of the just barely rising sun. She swallowed back the bile rising in her throat, everything felt off. She was shaken and in no condition to lead her team, but she had to try. Jake needed her, would need her if he was indeed alive, and she had to stay strong for him.

She sat stock still, the terrain below blurring together until Chip shook her gently. “We’re here ma’am,” he told her quietly, breaking through her thoughts.

Bear nodded. “Toss the ropes down. Maxwell, you can land a little ways off. We will need you for the ride home,” she informed the man in the cockpit, who gave her a thumbs up.

The ropes went down and down slid the rescue team, Bear bringing up the rear, weapon raised and ready should it be needed. She kept her head up, not being able to handle accidentally catching sight of Jake’s body, should he not have made it, but a shout from FAK had her hurrying through the sand.

Laying half-tucked in the shell of his aircraft, was Jake. He lay hidden in the shadows, curled around himself with one hand out-stretched like he had been reaching for something. The sight of his pale face was enough to still her every thought.

Bear let out a strangled gasp, hand coming to cover her mouth in shock and horror at the sight of the shrapnel caught in his leg and the cuts across his arms where blood had turned his khaki flight suit a copper brown.

FAK sprang into action, immediately sinking to their knees and checking for a pulse. The group was silent, waiting with baited breath for the proclamation of his life of death and it was a heartbreaking silence. Finally, after a minute or two, FAK turned to Bear, eyes shining with tears. “He’s alive, Ma’am,” the medic said, their voice shaking just a little as they watched Bear crumple to her knees, overwhelmed with emotion at the news. “We need to get him out of here. He will bleed out if we don’t get him airborne and back to base immediately.”

Daisy and Chip nodded, each moving to support FAK but quickly stopped when the unconscious man’s hand twitched. “Bear,” Daisy said. “Come here.”

And she did. Crouching next to Jake, Bear picked up his hand, holding it in hers as FAK and Chip made to stabilize the piece of metal in his leg. She stared down at his face, taking in the smoothness of his features. Even on the brink of death, he was beautiful. “We’re ready to move him,” FAK said softly, placing their hand on Bear’s. “I need you to let go.”

Bear nodded, but she hesitated, glancing down one final time to see those green eyes she loved so much staring up at her. “Teddy…” he slurred, making to reach for her face before his hand slumped back to the ground and his eyes slid shut once again.

“We have to go. Now,” one of the Tweedles spoke as he ran over to where the others were huddled. “Three trucks approaching quickly.”

“What?” Bear stood, hurrying over to look for herself, and sure enough, there were three trucks barely a minute away and gaining on them. “What the fuck? What happened to the comms?”

“I don’t know, they aren’t working. We can’t get through,” he told her, eyes fixed on the vehicles.

Bear whirled around, the anger she had doused rearing back once more. Jake was alive. For now. And she would do everything she could to keep him that way. “FAK and Tweedles, get him to Max. Daisy, Chip on me, we buy them time. Move!” Bear ordered, picking up her rifle from where it hung over her shoulder and opened fire.

Bullets ricocheted off the paneling of the approaching trucks, a few finding their marks in the men on board. Their yells only increased her fury. The mask of impenetrable calm descended and she felt it settle as she ducked behind a large piece of a wing. They wouldn’t be taking him from her again. Not if she had anything to say about it. Nearby, Daisy and Chip had drawn fire from the other two vehicles, picking off their occupants one at a time until they heard FAK scream at them to move.

Bear turned just briefly, reeling back as a bullet flew past her face. “Go!” She yelled at Daisy. “Get back!” Daisy did just that, she dropped her weapon and took off across the sand towards the ready helicopter only a little ways back.

Working together, Chip and Bear had created enough space for one of them to make a break for it. “Chip! Go!”

“Not without you!” He yelled back.

Bear growled. “Go! You have a kid waiting for you to come home. Move your ass!” The look in her eyes must have contained hellfire itself because all it took was one glance at her face and Chip was racing across the sand.

She was now holding all of the enemy’s fire at her position, gritting her teeth as she loaded her last clip into her weapon. Bear vaguely heard Daisy and Chip open fire from the helicopter that had begun to take off, a rope ladder dangling from the side. “Bear!” Without a thought, Bear sprinted from her hiding spot, her weapon slapping into her thigh as she ran as hard as she could across the sand.

Not even ten steps from the ladder, a hand wrapped around her arm and yanked her back. Bear swore, whirling with her knife in hand, stabbing and slashing at anything that moved. But it was futile. She could see it on FAK’s face as they swore and began CPR. Bear had to make a choice. Save her team and doom herself or save herself and lose Jake.

It was an easy choice.

“Go!” Bear screamed at the helicopter. “Go! Leave me here!”

Daisy shook her head, eyes wide. “We don’t leave Seals behind!”

A blade slashed Bear’s arm, spurring her on to redouble her fight against her attackers. “Save him!”

Her team screamed at her, their begging and pleading falling on deaf ears as Bear slashed and stabbed. But each attacker that fell dead, another seemed to appear. It finally took one of the men opening fire at the helicopter for the message to sink in. The helicopter had to leave now, else its occupants would be killed.

It was only when her team was far enough away that they couldn’t be harmed, did Bear stop fighting. One final man fell dead at her feet but the remaining seven stared at her with contempt, and all it took was a kick to her stomach to make her double over.

The man spat something at her in a language she couldn’t understand over the pounding of her heart in her ears, and it was at this moment that it sunk in. Jake was safe. She saved him. Whatever happened now, he was safe. That was all that mattered in the end.

So Bear lifted her knife once more and plunged it into the chest of the man that had kicked her, driving it in deep. “Hope I don’t fucking see you in Hell,” she hissed. “You’d be the only man in history to die twice.”

Then a blinding pain erupted from the back of her head, and it all went black.

All she remembered was being dragged through the sand when she awoke in a cell little bigger than a closet in a building she didn’t recognize.

===

A/N: Again, I'm sorry. Thank you to @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s and @dakotakazansky for yelling at me and helping me out with words.

Taglist: @horseshoegirl @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @lavenderbradshaw @roosterforme @bobby-r2d2-floyd @bradleybeachbabe @footprintsinthesxnd @twsssmlmaa @fandomxpreferences @dempy @gizmodear @fighterpilothoe @chaoticassidy @eli2447 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @djs8891 @rhirhikingston @sisterslytherinog @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @sgt-barnesveins @taytaylala12 @urmom-999 @formulapierre @pinkpantheris @havlindzk @a-beaverhausen @killcomet @buxkybarnez @topgunruinedme @hangmanscoming

#a gun amonst daggers #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #bear and hangman #jake seresin imagine #controlled chaos squad #callsign bruiser #fern writes #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #hangman fanfiction #top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick x reader #hangman top gun #top gun maverick imagine #jake hangman seresin x oc #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x fem!reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin x female reader #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin series #hangman angst #<- again sorry…

[janicho88]

I Got You- Chapter 1

Pairing- Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Female!Reader

Word count- 963

Warnings- Some language, mentions of domestic violence, and abuse, abusive boyfriend, hurt reader. If I missed something please let me know.

A/N- Birthday post 2. This one has been sitting in my WIP since last fall. First Jake story, I hope I can do him justice. The first few chapters will be a little heavy, but we will move past that.

Summary- When you have finally reached a breaking point, you call the one person you trust for help. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, but he is the person you know you’re safest with.  It’s been months since he has had so much as a text from you, but Jake Seresin would do anything for the Navy princess he met years ago.  The pilot knows she means more to him than he ever will to her, but he will do anything for her

Series Masterlist

After a long first day of being back at Top Gun, Jake is sitting at the bar of the Hard Deck nursing his first beer of the night.  Some of the other aviators from this detachment are by the pool table, after spending the day around them, he isn’t inclined to head over right now.  The bar itself isn’t crowded yet, the night’s still early. 

“I don’t usually see you sitting at my bar by yourself, you alright?”  Penny questions as she wipes down the empty bar around him.

“Yeah, just been a long day Penny.” he returns with a slight smirk.

“Are you sure that’s all?”  The bartender remembers Jake from his first go around at Top Gun.  Maverick’s Goddaughter brought him in on his first night in town, and introduced Jake to Penny.”

“Yes, ma’am.”  The pilot is staring at his beer before he speaks again.  “Did you know the man we threw out last night was a Captain, and an instructor at Top Gun?”

“Oh God, Pete’s your instructor?”  Much to Jake's frustration she laughs.

“Sure is, not really the best first impression one wants to make.”

“Don’t worry, that man has made much worse first impressions.” 

“Doesn’t really help me now, Penny,” Jake responds with a shake of his head, and takes a drink of his beer.  He has every intention of leading this mission, and last night’s little incident isn’t the best way to make that happen. 

“There’s a blonde over by the wall who's been staring at you for a good ten minutes if you’re looking for company to take your mind off Mave,” she teases as she moves to help another patron. 

Shaking his head once more, Jake’s attention goes back to the beer in front of him. It isn't long before his phone rings and he pulls it out of his pocket, not bothering to look at the caller ID before answering.

“Hello.”

No one responds, but he can faintly hear breathing on the other end.

“Hello,” he tries again with a little impatience in his tone. 

“J..Jake?  Where are you?”

He pulls the phone away from his ear and looks at the caller ID.  Seeing the number he assumes his eyes are playing tricks on him.  He hasn’t heard from you in a few months. 

“Are you there?  Please…I..”

He can hear the desperation in your voice now.

“I’m still here princess, little surprised to be hearing from you though.  What’s going on?”

“Are you in Lemoore?”

“No, I’m actually…” he’s cut off by your sob.

“What’s wrong?  Talk to me Y/N,” he pleads, turning away from the bar.

“I… I… need help,” you finally whisper.

“Where are you?”  Jake stands and throws some money down to cover his drink and tip Penny before hurrying out of the bar.

“I’m in L.A., but if you’re not in Lemoore…”

“I’m at Top Gun, I’m on my way.  What’s your address?”

He puts it in his GPS as he speeds out of the parking lot and toward the highway determined to get to you as quickly as he can.  He keeps you on the phone the entire drive, but here isn’t much said between the two of you.  Jake does his best to console you over the phone as he listens to your tears.  When he asks if your boyfriend is around, you just start crying harder.  The urge to punch someone or something growing inside of him.  Pushing the speed limit the aviator gets to your apartment in just under 2 hours, you buzz him in and he’s running up the stairs to your apartment.

Still on the phone with you, Jake lets you know he’s outside your door.  The man is slightly confused when the door opens and he doesn’t see you.  Carefully walking inside he looks around the room and quickly turns when the door shuts behind him. His longtime friend is standing behind the door with her head down and hair covering her face, he slowly reaches out to lift her chin and push the hair back. Jake can’t help the gasp that escapes as he takes in the sight in front of him, as she recoils from his touch.

“Y/N, princess, what happened?  Who did this?”   

Unable to answer Jake’s question, you return to staring at the floor.  Maybe you shouldn’t have bothered your friend, but you didn’t know what else to do.  You knew if Jake was still at Lemoore he would help you.  Tonight was the worst it’s been and you were terrified of what the next time would bring. 

“Sweets, did Josh do this to you?”  Jake is seeing red, trying to rein his temper in for your sake.  He never cared for your boyfriend, and if he finds out this is that man’s doing, Jake won’t be holding himself back next time he sees him.  There are bruises forming on your left cheek and chin, and dried blood near your nose. Your left arm has some cuts he can see from the ripped sleeve of your shirt. 

The only answer he receives is a slight nod of the head.

“Where is he?”  When you don’t respond he tries again.  “He isn’t here right?”

You shake your head no, before finding your voice.  “Probably at the bar getting drunk and finding a better girl to go home with,” you mumble.

Jake can’t keep himself away any longer he comes and slowly wraps you up in a hug holding you close to him.  You are tense when he first touches you, but slowly melt into his hold. This spurs on another round of tears, you can’t believe you still have any left.

“Okay, we need to get you out of here before he comes back.”

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 2

Tagged-

#jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #tw dv mention #tw injury #tw abuse #jake hangman seresin

[bluexiao]

omg your requests are open? i’d love to see fatui boys (tartaglia and scaramouche) reactions to reader like gushing about them to other people? i feel like they’d both have really interesting yet different reactions

#when you gush over them

–fluff; scara being the douche that he is (not to you ofc) 

Pretty short my allergies are attacking me rn,, also my laptop is fixed miraculously idk how but yeah! 

SCARAMOUCHE

Would be so embarrassed. 

But contrary to anyone’s belief, he would not try to stop you. 

He is no fool, of course. If it doesn’t hurt his ego, then he won’t. Most likely, it even boosts it the more you gush over him in front of other people or even to just other people when he’s not around. 

He’s embarrassed that you’re doing this to him… but he also feels a sense of pride wash over him over the fact that you feel this way towards him and you did not care about what anything or anyone else would say. 

If anyone would judge you for doing this, however, let’s say a subordinate of him, of course, he would not let it slip. They judge you, you judge him. 

“Lord Harbinger… Are you sure… Y/n…” 

“What?” He raises a brow, passing him a narrowed look that could most likely be a glare that could pierce like any dagger would, “What seems to be the problem for you to call my Y/n’s name oh so casually, Agent?” 

Knowingly, the agent trembles from where he was, stuttering with “N-nothing, m-my lord. Y/-I mean, the lord Y/n very well praises the lord Harbinger, and it is good for your reputation, that’s what I meant…” 

“Did I say you could speak?” 

“I-“ 

“Throw him to the dungeons.” 

“Lord Harbinger! Have mercy!” 

TARTAGLIA / CHILDE

Would be so proud he’ll probably gush over himself more than you. 

“Hear that? They’re really proud of me, aren’t they? I mean, why would they not?” He’d say with a smug smirk whilst his subordinates listen to his nonsense with a forced smile. 

At first, you both will gush over him together but he gets pretttyyyyy annoying about it that you'll most likely get so sick of it halfway through the day. 

After you have gotten sick of it though, he will be pretty whiny. 

“Why had you betrayed me like this? I thought you really like me?” Somewhere along those lines. He’s such a dramatic man istg. 

Well, to be frank, he is indeed genuinely saddened over the fact you’ve gotten sick of gushing over him—maybe you’d gotten sick of him?! Already?! Ah! No! 

So do try to gush over him the next day or reassure him that everything is fine and there is no need to worry, he is easily pleased with anything you do or say. 

Reblogs and comments are very appreciated~

TAGLIST (fill the form to be added/removed) 

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#genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #childe x reader #scara x reader #tartaglia x reader #fatui x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin kunikuzushi #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #blue's works

[incorrectmahabharatquotes]

What really makes me laugh with sadness is rhe Fact that I'm a dravidian and trust me when I say that there is like a clear cut division between how we think about the Hindi speaking (coughs cough) belt heh.

Like I'm seeing their thoughts behind Ravana and I'm like lol he was a brown dark skinned king

Like these basic af people can't even bring in the nuance - from my perspective, and from many dravidians perspective, Rama the person was a colonizer + imperialist lol

He travelled from place to place disrupting the people around him and didn't understand different cultures and they have literally demonized the dark skin of the dravidians

They are not going to learn until it's too late

((I'm willing to come off Anon if the these people attack you))

Exactly!

I've always had this question about how all these aesthetics and shit never really had much in the way of festivals like Onam. Because Onam is a festival that throws a spanner in Hindutva canon. Its a direct opposite to idk, Vamana Jayanti or whatever bullshit that has been invented to counter the significance of Maveli (or Mahabali) coming back to earth.

Also like yeah! The Ramayana continually refers to people of the south as animals and uncivilised beings. Like even if Kishkindha was referenced as some civilisation, if you notice the way Sugriva and Vaali, and that whole civilisation was portrayed, you see more of this disgust for their hedonistic tendencies from the narrative. Which, according to the 'civilised' Ayodhyavasis, is absolutely disgusting.

Seriously, people need to put some brains into the epics they love. Whenever we bring this kind of discourse up, Dravidians only ever get stupid responses like 'India is one country lol'. So? One country means we all have to forget our own cultures and line up to whatever single idea of India these Hindutvavadis have? I urge people to think a little, geez.

-Mod G

[xiaosenthusiast]

5. reminisce

“i’m better than you!”

“no!! i got 100!”

“i got 101!”

i pouted my lower lip as i turned away from xiao and started walking away, “you are a big meanie!”

i ran over to fei and sat down next to her. she turned and tilted her head, “do you want to read with me?”

i smiled at her and moved closer, we stayed like that while fei read out loud to me. it was quiet until i heard crying.

“YNNNNN”

i turned and saw xiao standing next to me while wailing my name. he clung to me as i tried to pull him off. “get off of me you big bully!”

“oh dear, it looks like little xiao likes yn!”

my mom leaned her head into her hand while she contained some chuckles.

“yanfei come on, it’s time to go home!”

“okay mama!”

yanfei closed her book and got up to go, “bye yn! bye xiao!”

“bye fei!” waving at her i forgot about xiao clinging to me by the waist

“come on xiao it’s time for us to go too.”

“but i want to stay here with yn!”

“nooo! get out of my house!!”

i whined as i tried pushing xiao off of me(while not really trying)

“actually can i speak to you before you go, guizhong?”

“oh, sure. xiao stay here for a little more, mama’s gonna go talk to yn’s mom a little bit more.”

“yayy!”

he only clung tighter to me as my mom walked into the kitchen with his mom.

“xiaooo! get off of me!!” i tapped his arms on my waist, not really caring if he let go or not.

“but i don’t know when the next time i’ll visit is..”

huffing i closed my eyes, “i’ll see you again tomorrow..i think…”

his grip on my shirt loosened and i could feel his calm steady breathing on my face, opening my eyes i was face-to-face with a sleeping xiao.

“you dummy.” my eyes started closing as i hugged xiao back, moving closer to him.

—

“why am i thinking about this now..have i lost my mind? AHHHHHHHH” i hit my head against my desk earning me a scolding from my mom and a bump on my forehead.

fun facts!

xiao has 4 siblings! and they were all adopted, bosacious and indarias are the only two that know.

bosacious is in his last year of highschool and indarias is in her second year of highschool. bonanus and menogias are in middle school.

when xiao and yn were fifth graders they usually bickered with each other. yanfei just watched from the sidelines, she prefered not to get mixed up with any of that.

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if your blog is in green then that means i can’t tag you due to your privacy settings !

#fake it till u make it — series #genshin x reader #genshin x you #adeptus xiao #modern au #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #xiao smau #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact #genshin smau #social media au

[vigilante-izuku]

Nevarro is sweltering, so opposite to the green and crips air of Naboo.

It’s a blossoming city, still sitting under the radar and you see it as yours. You picked Nevarro because it is growing and you could slip into the waves of new comers wandering in and out.

Here you are just a floral shop assistant. You find peace within the beautiful blooms you tend to and love joking with the older shop owner, Mave, who has welcomed you into her business with open arms.

Here you are not the missing and runaway Naboo Queen.

It’s why you so freely give your name because no one back home saw you as a person. No one besides those in the inner circle knew of your identity. You were a figure head and now with the amount of assassination attempts against you could not live in constant fear.

So you shed the ornate gowns and the detailed facial paints for top soil and the sweet giggles of a green baby.

“You better not be trying to eat those purple ones mister.” You don’t even have to turn around to know he’s there. Grogu’s giggle comes so quickly and you can’t help but turn to find him grinning at you so innocently.

You had found this mischievous little green sprout in your shop months ago trying to grab at the large sprouting ferns.

Now he is a constant presence in your life.

Him and his striking sight of a mandalorian father.

Your heart jumps thinking about Din. The absolute force of a warrior who you had only heard whispers about even growing up in the palace and now here he was just as constant a presence in your life.

From the bashful father like apologies he gave for his son sneaking into the shop to simple pleasantries, to finally learning his name “Din, call me Din,” this mandalorian is a quiet beautiful breathe of fresh air.

Din makes the layers of training and etiquette and royal pressures all peel away, leaving you, just you. No royal tied to anything, just a flower shop keeper.

Din stays late into the night when you close up the shop. He even waits until you walk upstairs to the living quarters above the shop and you think he is like something out of a romance tale standing in the moonlight a shining beskar star.

“That Mando is in love with you.” Mave snickers and you roll your eyes but you pray it’s true because you are halfway in love with him.

You learn he likes a certain type of bantha meat broth. He can’t understand binary but has slightly hinted at wanting to maybe learn. He hates sweeter treats and chides Grogu who happily devours any of the cookies you bring to their home on the outskirts of the city.

It is a beautiful soft carved out existence, whatever this is you have with your two boys.

You start leaving ferns and in Din’s homestead. When Grogu wander into the shop you let him draw scribbles on the orders board. Din begins dropping off any items Mave now happily tells him she’s needing much to your chagrin.

This existence, this dream, is yours.

But like a dream, you have to wake up suddenly.

Mave vibes you the night off early and in the warm dusk you head from the shop straight to Din’s. Him and the baby would be back from their simple trip to Tatooine he mentioned days ago. But as you wander through the shopping district, this is when you spot her.

Your old and closest friend, a fellow senators daughter. She was the only one you saw on the night you left. You both cried in each others arms and with a goodbye to her, you ran.

And now here she is with two Naboo guards in everyday clothes helping them blend in. You don’t move fast enough. After she finishes speaking with a booth worker, her eyes snap to you and her face falls recognizing you right away.

Yes, Nevarro is yours, but it would never have you. Because you still belong and maybe will always belong to Naboo and a dream is so nice to have.

But reality is always there to wake you up.

When you turn and run, you run without thinking even as you hear your name get yelled out in the streets. You run and run into your body collides into something hard.

The collision knocks you breathless until Din says your name and reality smacks into you harder.

Din. He’s here.

“What’s wrong?” He’s so concerned, already pressing one hand to you shoulder and Grogu starts whining at how visibly upset you are.

“I-I have, I have to go-” you tell him.

“Wait. Why? Tell me what’s wrong I can help protect you-”

Your full given name is screamed out and fear chokes you. You can’t run away more. There behind you stands destiny here to collect you.

Until Din without hesitation, son in his arms, steps between it and you.

“What business do you have with this shop keeper?” He asks demanding fierce and protective. It sets your soul on fire.

In this moment reality might be here to take you home, but you can thank it for giving you this dream of a mandalorian and his son.

Because for your boys, this dream even as short as it was, was worth it.

(Or aka this is bcs our runaway Naboo Queen reader x Din has consumed me and here is my humble offering)

I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU DROPPING FICS IN MY INBOX I FEEL SO LUCKY AND BLESSED

THIS IS SO SO GOOD !!! IM OBSESSED WITH NABOO QUEEN READER X DIN !!!!!

i know we discuss about naboo queen returning to naboo and din and grogu coming with, but do they STAY ??? do they go back to nevarro eventually...erika i need answers !!!

#eri's answers #din djarin x reader #tw: gendered language #erica but with a k #YOU'RE MY NABOO QUEEN

[callsigndragon]

A Rebel in my Soul [2023 ver.] | Ch.3: Like a Mitchell

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!pilot!reader (Call sign: Rebel)

Word count: 4k

Warnings: swearing, dogfighting exercise, worried Jake (that deserves a warning), mutual pining (even tho nobody seems to notice duh), alcohol consumption, and maybe i'm forgetting something.

A/N: things are starting to heat up a bit! more changes from the original version starting from this chapter hehe

Tagging the usual people, if you want to be added, comment down below!

Masterlist

Rooster ends up flying up there on the first team. You stay with Phoenix, Bob, Hangman, and the rest, listening to the radio in the officer’s lounge and hearing how things are going up there. You just hope that Rooster doesn’t get distracted by the past and that he can actually prove to Maverick how good he is.   

“Good morning, aviators. This is your captain speaking. Welcome to basic fighting maneuvers. As briefed, today’s exercise is dog fighting. Guns only, no missiles. We do not go below the hard deck of 5000 feet.”  

You take a seat next to Hangman because that’s the only available seat in the room. “Yeah, sure, like he’s not down there already.”  

“Howdy, Rebel. Want to tell us how you know so much about him?” Hangman turns around an F-18 model that he found on the table. He’s trying to tease you, and that’s evident, but if he doesn’t start being careful with his words, he’s going to end up in trouble.

“He’s a legend,” you reply, going with the evident answer and the only reasonable excuse. “Everybody knows him and his tactics.”  

“You think I’ll be as famous as him someday?”  

You scoff, taking the F-18 from his hand. “Keep dreaming, Hangman.” 

“If I shoot either one of you down,” Maverick keeps explaining the rules of the exercise. “you both lose” 

Jake looks at the radio, shaking his head in disbelief. “This guy needs an ego check.”  

“You’re one to talk, Hangman.” You mumble, rolling your eyes so hard that it physically hurts. “But actually, and I can’t believe I'm gonna say this, you’re right.” 

“I can shoot him down. Maybe even you can.” He looks at you, whispering so nobody hears him. “Show him how good you are.”

One thing about Hangman is that if you’re a good pilot, he will say it. He respects it. He messes with Rooster because he’s cautious, and in a way, you think he’s trying to push his buttons to make him snap, and become the best pilot he can be. 

Rooster has always been too careful when flying. Maverick once said that he wasn’t ready to leave the book behind and start doing things his own way. As much as you hate to admit it, he was right. Rooster is an excellent pilot, but he follows every single rule in the book.

It didn’t take a therapist to know that this was the result of his dad’s death. It has turned into a trauma for Rooster. He’s always trying to keep control of the aircraft, flying fast but not too fast. 

He’s too cautious, and you’re too reckless. If you were paired together, you would probably make the best team.  

Right now, Rooster is doing exactly what he’s not supposed to do. He is too slow, and Payback and Fanboy are almost smoked, but Rooster gets in the middle to save them. He always makes sure to bring the whole team back home.  

One after another, all your team goes up there, but none of them is able to get Maverick. Not even you; he tried to make conversation with you several times, but you weren’t having it. Phoenix and Bob were surprised to hear Maverick’s interaction with you, denoting a closeness that you two didn’t have. He kept talking and ended up frustrating you so much that it was impossible for you to get him. You had to do 200 push-ups. 

The second time you’re up there, you have Hangman as your wingman. Which actually means that you’re flying alone, because he’s going to leave you behind as soon as he sees Mav’s aircraft. 

“So, Rebel, mind if I ask you a personal question?”  

“You’re gonna ask it anyway,” you say while looking around, trying to find Maverick. He’s not on the radar, but he’s not far away either. 

“What’s the story with you, Rooster and Maverick? It seems like it has you both a little rattled. I mean, I kinda know a bit, but... I want to know the whole story.” 

You turn your head in his direction, glaring at him to shut up. If he keeps talking, people will know that he’s your father. And you can’t allow that to happen. “That’s none of your business, Hangman. Where the hell is he?” 

“Been here the whole time,” says Maverick, appearing from below your aircraft. He moves and turns his aircraft until he’s inverted over your F-18.  

“Holy shit!” exclaims Hangman. You’re not actually surprised. He’s that type of person.  

“You see me now, kid? Come on, let’s get it over with.” He tells you, looking directly into your eyes.  

He thinks that he can just pull out of nowhere, after what he did to you and Rooster, and solve everything with a dog fight? Just old Maverick behavior. If he wants to fight, you’ll give him war.  

“Fight’s on, old man!” You howl, turning your aircraft.  

“These two are going to get themselves killed,” Hangman says, moving his own aircraft to follow you around.  

You both go down, spiraling around each other, with the sky and earth spinning around you. You keep falling. Neither of you is going to pull up soon. This is dangerous, to say the least, and once you set foot on the ground, Rooster is going to scold you for your actions. You said that you wouldn’t let Maverick get to you. But he has a talent for making people angry.  

Cyclone is going to give you an earful for this, too.

“All right, you put us here. How are you gonna get yourself out?” He asks you, always with the teacher's tone. Maverick should know by now that there are only a few things left that he can teach you. He raised you; you learned everything he had to teach. 

You are just like him when it comes to flying. 

“Already wanting to leave, old man? You can bail out anytime.”  

He breathes heavily, not tearing his eyes away from yours. “How long you want to go, Rebel?”  

“I can go as low as you, captain! And that’s saying something.”  

“What’s past is past. For the three of us.”  

“Wouldn’t you like to believe that?” you sneer. He really is something else. He comes here, trying to make you and Bradley forget every single thing that happened, believing, as always, that he was doing the right thing. Only what Maverick does is right. The worst thing is knowing damn well that he’s not even going to offer an explanation.

“Hard deck is 5000 feet, fellas. You are running out of room,” says Hangman through the radio.  

Altitude. Altitude. Altitude.  

The automated voice is warning you. You’ve broken the hard deck. You’re still going down, approaching the ground faster by the second, but you cannot look away from Maverick. The first one that pulls up loses. He knows it. You know it.  

And a Mitchell never loses.  

“Your strategy is about to run us into the ground. What’s your move, Rebel?” 

Altitude. Altitude. Altitude.  

You look at the numbers on your screen. They're going down really fast. You want to pull up. You need to pull up. But you can’t lose. You can’t let Maverick win. Not this time. 

Not again.  

Pull up. Pull up. Pull up.  

“Rebel, pull up!” shouts Hangman, his voice piercing your eardrums through the comms. 

Maverick pulls up before you. You smirk and follow him, knowing that this time he’s not going to win. He’s going down, flying low, as if that could scare you.   

“Come on, Rebel. You got him!” says Hangman, and while you want to know the reason behind this sudden change in behavior, you’re currently really busy trying to beat your old man’s ass. 

You drop down, flying right behind Maverick, and try to mark him.  

“Come on, come on, come on.” You keep repeating it like a mantra, as if that is going to make it work faster.

Tone. You get a tone. You got him.  

“Whooo! Attagirl, get your ass up here before you crush.” Hangman is being too nice. Is he trying to be nice in front of the teacher, aka your dad, to secure a place on the final team?

You move your aircraft to be next to Maverick’s, watching as he takes off his oxygen mask. “Remember, old man. 200 push-ups,” you say, turning to leave with Hangman right behind you.

Once you’re back on the tarmac and your feet touch the ground, you see Hangman waiting for you, arms crossed over his chest. “Breaking the hard deck, insubordination… You really live up to your call sign,” he jokes with a friendly expression that surprises you and scares you at the same time. Does he actually know how to be friendly? But the important question is, what the heck is wrong with him today? 

“Want something, Bag man?”  

“C’mon, Reb. What’s going on?” He sounds sincere, not even a trace of humor in his voice. He really wants to know. Should you really take the bait? Should you really start sharing personal information with him? He knows more than you’d like about him.

“Why do you care so much?”  

“Cause I’ve seen you fly before. You’ve always been reckless. But this? This is something else.”  

You stop walking and turn to look at him, but this time you pay special attention to his features, finding out if he really means his words or not. His usual cocky smile is gone. He’s looking at you, eyes full of concern. He is worried about you. You look away, unable to keep watching those beautiful green eyes that take your breath away.  

“I’ll see you at the Hard Deck. Buy me a drink, and maybe I’ll tell you.” Why did you just offer to hang out with him? Did you hit your head with the canopy while dogfighting with Maverick? Something is really wrong with you. 

Hangman smiles a little. A different smile from the ones that you have seen before. Did he hit his head too?  

“I’ll see you there, then,” he says softly before leaving. You remain there, speechless, trying to understand what’s going on in Hangman’s head. 

And in yours.

You enter the Hard Deck, watching Hangman wait for you at the bar, beer in hand. He looks good out of his uniform, wearing some old jeans, a white t-shirt and his aviator jacket. His hair is loose, giving him a more juvenile aspect. You wouldn’t mind seeing more of this side of him.  

He takes a sip of his beer, his eyes scanning the door to see the incomers. When he sees you, he raises his beer as a greeting. You smile a little, walking towards him.  

“Hangman.” 

“Rebel,” he welcomes you, looking at Penny. “Can you get me two more? Thanks, dear.”  

“So, you’re really gonna get me a drink.”  

“I keep my promises. You get your beer; I get to know what is happening here.”  

“I never thought Hangman was an old gossiping lady.”  

Penny puts the beers down in front of you, smiling, before leaving to serve more drinks to other clients. The place is relatively quiet, but it won’t be like this for long.  

“Darlin’, I was born and raised in the south. Of course, I gossip,” he admits, raising his beer. “Cheers.”

You mimic his actions, drinking the cool liquid. If someone had told you three days ago that you'd end up drinking beers with Hangman, you would have laughed. 

“So what did good ol’ Maverick do to get on your bad side?” 

“He tried to pull my papers at the Naval Academy,” you admit after swallowing the drink.  

Hangman chokes on his beer. You grab a napkin to clean the drops of golden liquid that have fallen on his jacket. He looks at you, his eyes completely wide in shock. “Excuse me, are we talking about the same Maverick?”  

“Yeah. The man, the legend.”  

“But why would he do something like that? He is really proud of the Navy and what it represents. Why didn’t he want you to become a fighter pilot like him?”  

“I used to think that he was trying to protect me,” you admit, your eyes focusing on the beer in your hands. You twirl it around slowly, not really interested in drinking it. Hangman takes off his jacket and moves his stool closer to you. His hand brushes yours innocently, but it makes your skin burn in delicious way.

What are you, some kind of teenager? Having fantasies with someone’s hands? 

“You thought your father could do something like that?”  

“I thought he wouldn’t dare. I thought I knew him,” you admit, taking a big sip of your beer.  

Hangman glances at you for the nth time today. It’s like he has looked at you more times today than all the years you’ve known each other. There’s a shadow in his eyes—a feeling that you cannot identify. At first, you think it's sympathy. But you’ve seen the pity in the eyes of the rest of the world every time they knew who your father was. That’s not sympathy. He blinks a few times, making the shadow disappear. 

You know that look is going to haunt you in your dreams tonight.

“Are you late because Rooster reprimanded you?” mocks Hangman, a small, devilish smile adorning his features.  

You let your head fall to the bar with a groan, causing Hangman to burst out laughing. Of course he did. He lectured you for thirty minutes while reminding you that it was your life you were risking when doing “bullshit like that”. His words, not yours.  

"I’ve always said he's like my big brother, but he took it personally," you mutter, your voice muffled by the wood.  

“Oh, he did. When we met at the academy, everyone thought you two were dating. And then one day, we were here playing pool, you went to the bathroom, and he said, and I quote,” he clears his throat before speaking in the most ridiculous sound-alike Rooster voice you’ve ever heard. “If one of you idiots tries to get in my little sister’s pants, I will kill you with my own bare hands.”  

“Please tell me it’s a lie,” you beg him, not wanting to believe his words but picturing at the same time the whole scene in your head.

He leans closer, his breath warming your cheekbone. His cologne fills your nostrils and makes your heart skip a beat at the sudden proximity. “He even said that to Phoenix,” he declares, a laugh following soon once he sees the mortification in your eyes.  

“Oh, my God. I’ll kill him,” you whine, putting your hands on your face to shield you from Hangman’s stare.  

“Honestly, it was for the best. There were a few guys interested in finding out if you were as good in bed as you were in the sky. Assholes.” He finishes his beer and turns on his stool. “Pool?” 

“Sure,” you say, getting up and taking your beer with you.  

You play for a while, opting for small talk rather than important conversations as before. There’s something inside your brain—a tiny little voice screaming that you should leave. It’s true that you don’t understand why he is being nice to you all of a sudden, but you know that he means no harm. He’s egotistical, arrogant, and a complete idiot when he wants to be. But you’ve seen him be a good teammate when the occasion required it. You don't know what is behind this change of behavior. But there’s nothing wrong with hanging around long enough to find out.  

“So… what’s the story with your dad?” You test the waters, sitting on the edge of the pool table. You’ve told him about your past with Mav, it’s only fair that he reciprocates it somehow. 

He sighs, placing both hands on top of the pool stick. “That’s… a fucking long story.” 

You look at your watch and then glance at him. “I have a few weeks.” 

Hangman snorts, placing his chin over his hands. “Then we’ll have to meet up another time so I can tell you ‘Jake’s sad story part 2’”

At that, you frown. He’s not one to whine about things, but the wording he chose sure makes you feel like this is not an easy story to tell. “Hey, if it’s gonna make you feel bad, you don’t need to tell me.” 

He shrugs, not caring about the consequences of remembering his own story. “My dad is a politician. You know that, right?” 

“I’ve heard things over the years, but I didn’t think you actually were a famous politician’s son.”

He nods absentmindedly, his eyes focused on the Navy logo stamped over the pool table. “He said if I wasn’t going to follow his steps, he would never admit he has a son.” 

“The fuck? Just because you wanted to be a Naval aviator rather than a politician?” 

“Every single male in the Seresin family has been a politician. I was the first one who didn’t want to follow the path. I didn’t want my life to revolve around meetings, campaigns, and elections.” 

Just the idea of living a life like that makes you want to throw up. Sitting all day in an office chair, wearing dresses and high heels? No, thanks. You’d rather wear your flying suit. “I would have chosen the Navy, too.”

“Well, it’s easy to say. But I had a family to lose if I chose the Navy.” He explains, resuming the game. 

“Did you lose your family?” 

“I think that’s a story for another day,” he states, knowing that this conversation has officially ended. 

Hangman keeps playing and you have to admit that every time he leans over to aim, you look at his hands. There’s something about them that drives you mad. Strong, calloused hands that make your imagination go wild. You find yourself thinking about how those hands might feel between your legs.  

“Hangman.” You blurt before you can even think about what to ask once you have his attention. You just need to keep your head occupied and stop thinking about his hands.

He raises his head, giving you his full attention. “Yes?”  

“You called me during the dogfight.” 

“Did I?” he tilts his head, feigning ignorance. At this point, you can tell when he’s lying and when he’s not.

“Yeah, you told me to pull up. Were you worried about me?” You tease him.  

“Oh yeah. If you crash and burn, the mission will be over. And I really want to know what this is all about,” he says, his cocky smile present again. Back to lying. Why is he being nice and honest one second and hiding behind his stupid Hangman persona the next?

You shake your head in disapproval, feeling like you have lost time with him.. “And here I thought you were being friendly.”  

Hangman’s smile drops instantly, as if he has just realized that he’s done something wrong. He is about to say something when you feel an arm on your shoulders. 

“Rebel! You didn’t tell me you were gonna be here.” Rooster says, appearing behind you and almost giving you a heart attack.  

“Jesus, Rooster. Don’t scare me like that.”  

“C'mon, I want you to meet some people.”  

You give the stick to Hangman. “Thanks for the beer.”  

He nods and remains silent while you leave. You don’t notice, but he watches you move away with a glimpse of sadness in his eyes. Hangman pays for the drinks and leaves the Hard Deck without saying goodbye.  

Jake leaves the Hard Deck, trying to identify the feelings that cloud his mind. Why is he feeling bitter? Is it because Rebel chose Rooster? Of course, she will always choose him. He and Rebel are not friends. How is he even going to be an option? 

He gets in his car but doesn’t turn the engine. He remains there, looking inside the bar. She is smiling at something that Rooster is saying, her big, shiny eyes full of adoration for the taller man. Jake has never been jealous of anyone. He's got the looks, he's got the skills, and he is better than the majority of the pilots on the base. But yet, he’s not enough for her. And he feels jealous of Rooster because it doesn’t matter how much he messes it up—Rebel will always be there for him. 

Why are these feelings and thoughts materializing right now?  

Maybe it is because she almost killed herself.  

That dogfight with Maverick was dangerous. When he saw Rebel breaking the hard deck without caring about her own security, he felt the need to go after her. But he didn’t. How could he? It was impossible to stop her when she was flying. He knew, though, that if anyone could beat the old timer, it was Rebel. That girl was made to be an aviator. But she needed someone to stop her from pulling these stunts. It's funny how he’s the one saying that. 

He thought that maybe, if he opened up a bit to her, he could at least gain her friendship. But it’s hard to open up when you have been hiding yourself all your life. 

Recently, everybody has been talking about the Mitchells. Not around Rebel or Rooster, of course, but they’ve been talking. The way they talk to each other is really suspicious. Fanboy said that maybe Rebel was his wife, hence the name. Nat smacked him in the back of the head. 

Obviously, Rebel wasn’t married. Maverick was her father. Everybody knew, but no one said anything out of respect for the pilot. And he wasn’t going to confirm their suspicions, either. 

It didn’t look like you two had a great relationship.

Jake was ready to say something during the exercise. Being just the two of them up there, maybe he could ask why she and her father were strained. But when he saw the turn of events, he knew that if she wanted to talk about it, it wouldn’t be with him. Now he knows why their relationship is completely broken: Maverick tried to pull her papers. 

He doesn’t know, though, why Rebel trusted him with such an important secret.

He had been a dick with her since the first day. How could he expect that Rebel would tell him something so personal? He was out of his mind. And yet, she did... Why? 

But what he really wanted to know was why the heck he cared about a nepotism baby. Her father is one of the most famous legends at Top Gun, and she’s here. Did her father’s name open the doors of the academy for her? 

No. Jake knew that was bullshit. Not only was that bullshit, but the fact that her dad didn’t want her in the Navy proved to him that all she has is earned. There’s no way she could have benefited from her dad’s name. If there was anyone on the team who really deserved to be here, it was Rebel. 

She’s a hell of a pilot. Jake remembers the first day that he saw her at Top Gun. He couldn’t understand how someone like Rebel made it into this world. Shy, quiet, and always hidden behind Rooster. Maybe that was one of the reasons why he was always a dick with her. He wanted to get her out of her shell. He wanted to break down her walls to see the real Rebel. 

If she was there, she was good. She was part of the 1%. Then she proved to be better than everyone at the academy, and nobody could believe that the shy girl was a menace in the air. She became confident, brave, and a force to reckon with. Rebel found her voice, and she stopped being the quiet girl in the back of the room. That's when the troublemaker appeared. And she gained her call sign.  

Jake gave it to her.  

He remembers the exact words that gave inspiration to the team. “You’re a rebel in disguise, Mitchell. And someday your actions will have consequences.”  

That was the day Rebel was born.  

He turns the engine and leaves the parking lot with thousands of unanswered questions in his mind and your laugh echoing in his heart.

@xoxabs88xox

@pono-pura-vida

@shrimping-for-all

@purplevortexx

@dempy

@elijahmikaelsonbitch

@blueoorchid

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[an-unknown-writers-world]

Where The Light Meets the Sea

Where The Light Meets the Sea

Warnings: Death – no way around it. There is no explanation of how the death occurs.

Pairing:  Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader! Mitchell Niece

Characters: Brief mentions of Admiral Solomon “Warlock” Bates, Warrant Officer Bernie “Hondo” Coleman, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell and Penny Benjamin,

Summary: Hangman dies on a mission. Part of this is the death notification, the rest is reading of the death letter- the letter military members write in case they die on deployment.

Word Count: 1,606

A/N: This was written from inspiration from the Brett Eldredge song Where the Light Meets the Sea. It’s beautiful, if you’ve never heard it, you should definitely give it a go.

Eight Days Ago-

You were sitting at the kitchen island drinking coffee while looking through your planner to see what was on the schedule for your day. The team was due back from their latest mission in two days, and you wanted to get as much done as possible before your husband came home. 

The ring of the doorbell pulled you from your focus.

Looking at the clock, you were thrown off by who it might be; it wasn't even nine o'clock yet. You wrapped your cardigan tighter around yourself before opening the door. 

"Admiral Bates," You spoke, surprised by the man standing in front of you. "Hondo," you barely whispered. 

A thousand thoughts flashed through your brain as you looked at the men in front of you. The air in your lungs felt like it was on fire as you exhaled.  

"Hey, kiddo," Hondo spoke softly, sadness seeping from his voice. 

"Come in," You stated out of muscle memory. You stepped to the side to give them room to come in. You were trying desperately to keep it together, thinking of all the reasons a commanding officer would be at your home. 

Hondo closed the door as they stepped into the entryway. Suddenly you felt like the entire weight of the world sat on your chest, unable to breathe in or out. 

"Mrs. Seresin, I wish I was here under better circumstances." Admiral Bates stated. This was the first time being called Mrs. Seresin that didn't make you smile. "The commandant of the Navy has entrusted me to express his deep regret that your husband, Jacob, was killed in action on the third of March. The commandant extends his deepest sympathy to you and your family in your loss."

You stared at him in disbelief. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. Looking at Hondo, you sickly hoped this was just a terrible joke. 

"I don't," Words finally started to come out, "I don't understand. Jake is fine. I'll call him. You'll see." You tried to sound strong in your belief. "Jake is fine." You repeated to yourself. 

Another knock came from the door behind Hondo. No one moved, but the door opened. For the briefest moment, you hoped it was a joke and Jake was coming through the door. But it was your uncle's girlfriend, Penny. She lived across the street and probably saw them pull in.

"Hondo?" Penny spoke with a question in her tone.

Hondo's face twisted up and he shook his head at Penny. She looked between him, Admiral Bates, and you. She came to you and pulled you into her chest. You buried your face in her shoulder and began to sob hysterically. It wasn't a joke. Your husband was really gone.

Today- Hours After the Funeral-

"Are you ready for this?" Mave asked, holding an envelope in his hand. 

You nodded. It was the death letter. Jake had spoken to you about it a few times. Explained that it had evolved over time and promised he wouldn't ever make you read it. In reality, it was a silly promise; he had no control if you had to read it. But you made him a promise; if he died while in the line of duty and you received the dreaded letter, you would wait until after the funeral. Wait until all the public grieving was over, and you could finally take the time to yourself. 

"This came with very specific instructions," Mave explained. "The note said to give it to you after the funeral and send you to his favorite place to read it." 

Penny handed you the keys to the bar, "Just lock up before you leave. If you need a ride, text me." She smiled solemnly.  

"Thank you," You mumbled back. "Really, I don't know how I would be making it through this without the two of you."

Mave pulled you into a tight hug. You knew this was hard on him. He'd already lost his wingman once. Sadly, he knew the steps you'd need to take and held your hand through the process. When you let go, you wiped at the tears pooling under your eyes.

"I'll see you guys in a while." You spoke again, softer this time, trying to keep your voice from breaking. 

Penny kissed your temple and turned away. When you and Jake first started dating, she always ensured you knew this was possible. The job was dangerous, and death was sure to follow them. 

It was a short drive from the house to The Hard Deck. You were thankful for that since the further you drove from the house, the more tears welled up in your eyes. You pulled into the parking lot at the bar and took a deep breath. You knew he wouldn't answer, but you just wanted to hear his voice, so you picked up your phone and pressed the icon with his face. 

"It's Jake, you know what to do. Probably won't call you back, so save yourself some time and call my wife." You chuckled at how accurate the statement was. 

You opened the car door and stepped out. The thick scent of salt water and the cool breeze overtook your senses. You passed the bar and headed straight for the beach behind it. You were thankful that it was secluded and only open to military personnel. It meant you were less likely to get caught bawling your eyes out by a passer-by. 

You kicked off your shoes when you got to the edge of the sand, picking them up in your hand to carry with you. When you made it to the edge of the water, up just enough that you wouldn't get caught in the waves when the tide came in, you sat down. You had on Jake's favorite Navy sweatshirt and yoga capris. A soft breeze kicked up, tousling your hair and wafting the scent of Jake that still lingered on his sweatshirt. 

Without another thought, you opened the dreaded envelope. 

My love,

I hope this letter never makes it to you. I hope you never have to read this or feel the heartache that comes along with it. The first time I wrote this after we got married, I swore that I would do everything in my power to be sure that you never had to read one of these. But if you did, by the end of it you wouldn't doubt for a second how much I love you.

The letter should have been delivered with specific instructions, so you should find yourself where the light meets the sea, at Breakers Beach. It was my favorite spot to visit, even before I met you. Though I never thought I could love the place more, you said yes to my proposal there, and became Mrs. Jacob Seresin in that exact spot. That's when I realized heaven could be a place on earth.

You smiled to yourself, remembering the first month after you married. Jake refused to call you anything but Mrs. Seresin. You belonged to him, and he wanted the whole world to know it. You didn't mind, each time he said it you would smile like a giddy schoolgirl and beam with pride. 

By now, I imagine my voicemail is half full of hang-ups from your calling. I wish that I could answer when you call. 

I know that we had big plans with life and I'm confident that I won't be able to find the words to express the pain it causes me at the thought that we won't be able to do them together. I hope you know you are not alone just because I may not be physically by your side. I'll watch over you no matter where you go or what you do.

Words have always failed me when it comes to telling you how much I love you. From the first time you beat me in a game of pool at The Hard Deck, I knew that my life would never be the same. I would either love you or be pining for you until the end of time. With the whispers between Phoenix and Penny, I thought that you would never give me a chance. There's no easy or less cheesy way to say this – but you changed me without even trying. I wanted to be a better man to be worthy of your attention. When you refused to go out with Hangman but accepted a date with Jake, I knew I could never go back to the man I was. 

He wasn't wrong; Penny and Nat had both spent countless hours telling you all the horror stories of Hangman. The one constant that you found was that none of the stories were about Jake. You played hard to get for a while before you agreed to go on a date with Jake. 

Your ability to call me on my bullshit with just a look or the way still to this day that my heart flutters a little when you say my name. I'm not sure I'll ever understand what I did to redeem myself and make myself worthy of you.  

I hope every time you hear the air cracks of a jet engine or see a contrail in the sky, you smile and think of me. I'll paint you pretty sunrises and sunsets every chance I get. 

I hope you know that I didn't want to leave you. But I'll always be here, in this place, where the light meets the sea.

I love you, always and forever. 

Yours,

Jake

 A/N: If you’ve made it this far - thank you so so so much for reading! My Masterlist can be found here. All work is also available on AO3  

#Jake Seresin x Reader #Jake Hangman Seresin x Reader #Hangman x Reader #Jake Seresin Reader Insert #Hangman reader Insert #Jake Hangman Seresin Imagine #Hangman Imagine #Jake Seresin Fan Fic #Hangman Fan Fic #Jake Seresin Fanfiction #Hangman Fanfiction #Top Gun x Reader #Top Gun Imagine #Top Gun Maverick #Top Gun Maverick Reader Insert #Jake Seresin #Hangman

[aestheticsuwu]

Blurrin' the lines between real and the fake

Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell

Mafia x Hitman/FBI Au

(Click pic for better quality)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~💸💎💸~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

IceMan ; One of the top most wanted criminal in the world. Known for the successful running legacy of being the coldest and feared mafia boss in Russia and now expanding his name in United States in all its glory.

Each day theres a different price for his head. The reward get higher by the second but the task becomes harder to accomplish. After all no one has seen his face, and the ones that do , Are now 6 feet under the ground.

The overachiever hit-man Pete Mitchell, ‘Maverick’ ,that has been hired by Charlie Blackwood an FBI agent, takes on the task thinking of it as a challenge . What he doesn’t know is that Ice is always 2 steps ahead and is already waiting for him.

Ice is not going to get wiped out in his watch, especially for his youngest sister Carole wedding .

—————————💸💎💸———————

“Behave.”

Maverick wanted to bite his hand , wants to scream and disrupt the guest but he knew better and having the man hand squeezing the back of his neck in warning made him clamped his mouth shut . Maverick still threw him a hard glare.

A young women , dressed in a floral white dress, shoulder length blonde hair and a big smile on her face spots them and comes running towards them. She screeches when she sees Ice. She throws herself into his arm . Ice twirls her around making her squeal and sets her down.

“Tommy , You promises not to bring none of your boy toys . It’s my engagement dinner.” The blonde woman whines , her arms crossed on her chest with a frown adorning her beautiful face. Her kind blue eyes flicker to his and he wanted to protest . He was not a twink nor Ice boy-toy but Maverick just averted his eyes down to his boots and stayed quiet. Biting his tongue . Tom. The long mystery of the real name of Iceman. And all for what. He might never get to tell anyone.

The poor woman was about to get scolded , she didn’t need Mavs.

“Carole , This one special. “ Ice brings back his hand to Maverick neck . Maverick can taste blood from how hard he’s biting his tongue.”Didn’t i promise you that I wouldn’t work or do anything that will prejudice your wedding. Aren’t I a man of my word“ Ice spoke gently and in a tender voice . It gave Maverick goosebumps. It was like a different person in contrast to Ice, the man holding him hostage and holding his neck like he was some damn puppy( and threaten to kill him once his baby sister has gotten married .

“You did gave me your word and in writing.” Carole sunny smile appears making Ice content .

“Where’s Nick ?” Ice smiles proudly , looking around for the man.

“I will go get him. Oh - I forgot where’s my manners. I’m Carole , soon to be Mrs.Bradshaw” Carole waited for his response but Maverick was having a quick debate in his head.

He didn’t know if he was allowed to speak but if the pressure of Ice thumb on his jaw making his sister wait was anything. Mav wasn’t sure what to say , does he say Maverick or Pete Mitchell?

“Im Pete Mitchell but your brother likes to call me Mave-rick , Nice to meet you . Congrats on your wedding .” Maverick mimics the way Iceman pronounced his name. He decides to be honest. He doubts Carole will try to search him up and look at his background. Besides he has a feeling Slider had already wiped his info off the system by orders of his boss. He gives her his best smile which she returns . She looks like a sunshine compared to this cold criminal man beside him.

The last name spiked a curiosity in him, he knew a Bradshaw but it couldn’t be the same person , Goose was dead. He’s snapped out of his thoughts when he feels Iceman press behind him.

“See,” Ice deep voice has Maverick nervous “It wasn’t that hard to be a good boy”

Maverick hates himself for his body reacting to those words. It send a shiver down his spine. He just hope Iceman didn’t see. Iceman goes to take a seat , front and center, assigned for him only. Maverick stands there dumbly not knowing what to do. “Sit” Ice pats his thighs with an amused smirk . This was embarrassing. He refuse to do it. He silently glares at the man making Iceman lose his patience. He moves forward and speaks lowly just enough for both of them to hear,”I wasn’t asking. Sit now. “ Ice tone of voice left no room for discussion.

Maverick balled his fist . He was fuming from the inside . He swung his leg over and sat down on the mans lap. He felt the blondes large hand grab his hip and pulled him closer. Maverick could feel the eyes of everyone on him making him flush down to his neck. He turns to his right, ‘Slider’, Iceman’s right hand and bodyguard ,snicker at him making Maverick feel embarrassed .

Carole comes back with a drink on her hand , vodka on ice , and on the other, a man. A man that makes Maverick go pale . He was dead. How could he be here? Goose?

The man hasn’t notice him yet. He sees his lip moving and feels the rumble of Ice voice against his back . He look exactly like him. The eyes, the height and the stupid porn mustache . It was him. His only family he had left. Here he was marrying the sister of a cold hearted criminal . Nick Bradshaw.

Slider stands up and put his arms around Goose and Carole and begins flirting with them both. Something that looked like something they did . He’s saying something along the lines that he wouldn’t mind being part of the wedding. It’s kind of mushy in his brain, he snaps out of it when Ice laughs at his friend. He doesn’t know why , but he hands go straight for the hand on his hip , needing the reassurance he wasn’t hallucinating . Ice goes rigid behind him.

Maverick takes a strong grip on Ice fingers . He feels eyes boring holes to the side of his face . His breath quickens , he feels like his heat had leapt out of his chest. He hears a glass clink against a surface , then suddenly he feels three cold fingers on his jaw making him face Ice. Who looked laser focused on him, his brows furrowed and eyes high on alert.

Ice opens him mouth to ask him something but Goose beats him to it. “ I didn’t realize you brought someone new. Let me introduce myself I’m Goose .”

“I think he’s shy . “ Carole says making Slider snort at the ridiculousness .

Ice has gone deadly silent and still holding his jaw . His blue eyes flickering all over his face, trying to read him. Suspicious on what was going on, he turns to Goose . With a sharp smile he answers for him, “This is Maverick. Why don’t you say hi , Sweetheart.”

Maverick turns around and faces Goose. Now is his turn to look like he just saw a ghost. Ice clenches his jaw , not liking the situation , He looks at Slider, whose already catching on , and gives him a sign to take Carole and Goose away. They had to deal with this later .

“I was promised a dance . Shall we ?” Slider doesn’t let them answer and is dragging them away . Maverick just listens to Carole laugh and watched Goose look over his shoulder with a fallen expression.

“Mitchell, Your dangerous , and I can’t have you going around behaving like that. Can’t have you snooping around in my business .In the meantime , your going to keep that pretty mouth shut and be on your best behavior until I decide how to get rid of you. Got it.” Ice says in a cold tone , a void of emotions. Like he was randomly talking about the weather.

“What if I don’t . Your going to kill me? I’m not scared of you …Iceman.” Maverick is not backing down. They stare at each fro way too long. His chest is still heaving and Iceman is just calm and collective . It made him tick.

Ice moves his hand up to Maverick face with a mocking smile. The man was hard to read but clearly he was angry.

“You should be , Baby.” Ice thumb touch Maverick’s bottom lip, slightly pulling it down making Maverick freeze , his greens eyes widen. “You’re in enemy’s territory. No one’s going to help you, Not even …Goose.” Ice chomps the air showing perfect rows of teeth. The man still remained dispassionate and composed like he didn’t just threatened to end his life .

The words felt like a slap to his face. He wasn’t expecting the chomp , the action reminded him of a feral dog wanting to bite him. Wreck him. Ice picks up his glass , the one Carole had give. him , and takes a huge gulp trying to shoo away the migraine that was try to creep up on him ever since Maverick appeared. Ice smiles at Carole who’s looking at their direction as Slider twirls her . He keeps his smile when Goose make eye contact with him, he looks away when Slider is trying to get his attention .

“Smile. Everyone’s looking.” With no other option , Maverick smiles that doesn’t reach his eyes . He really wants to kill the guy. Right about now. Like if he was devil , the man mutters, “Keep those thoughts for later , Nobody is dying today. What your pretty little head should worry about is that your sleeping in my bed tonight.”

———————————-💸💎💸———————

Sidenote: okay so I saw in a fic where Carole is Ice sister, so I had to use this opportunity to add it in here. Goose and Maverick were best friends and worked together until one day a mission goes haywire and Gooses is presumed dead. But In reality , Slider finds Goose in the middle or fight with another drug lord and Slider gets injured and Goose helps him. Making Slider feel gratitude towards Nick , he takes him in and does everything he can for Ice to let him (Goose thinks Mav is dead too)

The FBI thinks they have a lead on Ice and know who it is , (they think it’s Slider ) Charlie knows Mav (they’re dating or hooking up or whatever ; either ways Mav still ends up with Ice) and she gets him on the deal .

Ice gets all the information back to him. He done his research on Mav by the time he has him close. Ice can’t kill him yet since it’s Carole wedding . He decides to have him by his side 24/7 to keep an eye on him. Literally. And uses this excuse to have Mav sit on his lap like all the time. (Slider sighs because the one time Ice is acting like love sick fool and it’s for the idiot that they’ve taken hostage. He rants about to Goose and Carole )

Maverick is just trying to find ways to escape but at the same time he struggling from keeping himself from throwing himself at Ice.

(Also if anyone writes a fic , can you guys write a scene where Maverick is lying in thousands of dollars and Ice is just having his brain go offline. Mavs wants to have sex on the money even though the money is dirty.)

#icemav #icemav au #tom kazansky #tom iceman kazansky #pete mitchell #pete maverick mitchell #mafia au #mafia au moodboard #hitman au #moodboard #carole bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw #goose #ron slider kerner #ron kerner #nick bradshaw #in this au Carole is related to Ice #tom cruise

[themagical1sa]

kpop fandom stop calling mave: an "artificial intelligence group" challenge (difficult)

#[ 🗣️ | the magical girl speaks ] #mave: #they're VIRTUAL FICTIONAL CHARACTERS!! not artificial intelligence!! there's a difference!! #aespa's æ-avatars are a.i. because they were based on the members' uploaded data on the internet like selfies and posts on social media #mave: is literally whatever k/da and vocaloid had going on. #stop interchanging a.i. with virtual fictional characters 😭 some o' yall haven't heard of vocaloid and it shows #also!! the members have voice providers!! they're not a.i. i'll tell you that much #if they were deepfaked a.i. voices they'd be a lot like ETERN!TY but. those vocals are sooo not deepfaked #these girls have voice providers and they are the girls who literally went thru vocal training to become singers #at least they'd have some privacy and avoid controversy by debuting with virtual characters for idols #anyway my point is– #saying MAVE: is A.I. discredits the voices behind the girls and the studio that wrote designed modeled and animated them #sorry not sorry i'm just a tired multimedia artist and fictional character enjoyer

[first-edition]

Breaking Seasons

New chapter update every Teusday Thursday 

HELLO and welcome to the book before we begin this is a Spencer reid x y/n reader book. She/her pronouns however you can change thing to your liking.This book is based in the land of criminal minds so if you've watched it some things hit hard just be aware. Chapters containing graphic info such as smut or active severe violence will be labeled as such.If you want short blurbs or story's please feel free to follow my tumblr page where more content for you to read will be. You can also view this story on my Wattpad for more dexterity.

https://www.wattpad.com/user/JelsaSnowflakes1

Thank you and i hope you enjoy!

Cw- violence, mature language and speak, gore, eventual smut, fluff, angst, abuse, childhood trauma, sexual themes, vewier discretion is advised. 

Summary- When y/n takes her sick friends criminology class to take notes in the winter, she meets the guest speaker, BAU-FBI agent Spencer reid. After getting to know more about each other due to a college school related case, that ends up involving y/n herself, they naught just have each to keep warm.

Story begins under cut. Chapter 1

                                      ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 Icy and winter day last nights snow fall taking a toll on the campus. Cars covered in blankets of white powder, other students and member slipping and spilling their morning Starbucks, and student being late to class as the outside campus dorms were snowed in. But in your case attending a class for your sick friend. You enter the room sitting where she would normally sit. 

"Please please please take my criminology classes for the week there's a guest speaker from the fbi and I need the notes" she begs you coughing up a storm after making you go soft and say yes. 

Waiting for the class to start your phone buzzes. A text bubble from your friend that reads,

'Thank you so much! I owe you one' 

Causes you to roll your eyes. 

The door of the room open and the so called "guest" walks in along with two other agents and what you assume to be the usual professor. All the girls gasp a fawn of the African American man who's beefier than the long term gym teacher and what seems to be the entire team.

"Hello everyone my name is SSA Derek Morgan, and this is SSA Jennifer Jareau, And that there is Dr. Spencer Reid. We're ver pleased to be here to talk to you about the BAU and what we do as profiler accept reid here will do all the talking."

Derek steps back as him and Jennifer wave and leave along with the professor leaving some girls sighing in disappointment.

"hi I'm Spencer readier you can call me doctor, or dr Reid, or Dr Spencer, or um...anyway I'll be teaching your class for the next week. I started the Bau when I was 21 although I wasn't aloud in the field until 22, I'm currently 25 and I live by myself in Quantico Virginia, I have an eidetic memory and can read 20 thousand words per-minute so if you could go around and tell me your names, age and major that would be great." He smiles putting his hands together.

A guy named Matt goes first and the train begins for a god 5-10 minutes leading up to you. You debate on telling them your real name or using your friends name but it doesn't take long before all eyes are in you and your snapped out of your thoughts by the person next to you nudging your leg.

"And you are?" Spencer asks looking up moving his hair behind his ear.

"I'm y/n l/n I'm 23 and my major is astrobiology." You answer 

Spencer frowns. Confused as everyone else before you had said criminology or something to do in the subject of Fbi workings.

"Astrobiology? The study of stars and outer earth?" He asks baffled somehow.

"Yes. Oh I'm not actually I'm this class I'm just attending for my friend, Mave Donovan she's majoring in biochem and forensics she's sick so I'm here taking notes until..she um recovers." you suddenly set conscious as everyone stares at you.

"It's nice to meet you" he says you nod the next person goes releasing some stress.

The entire class you took notes barley looking up and just listening when it came time for classes end you collected your belongings and got up following the others out unknowingly leaving your book behind. Most days you watch tv or play games in your phone or iPad but you picked up a book at the library one days and now you can't put it down. 

Half way across the campus to your car you feel a tad bit empty. Looking around yourself and in your bag, 

"Shit." The word leave your mouth ushering you to leave with urgency back to the room. Rushing back  to the door it opens abruptly. You step back quickly slipping on stray ice only to be grabbed back up into the Dr Spencer reid. 

"I'm sorry!" You both say

"Sorry I didn't realize anyone was out here." 

"Yeah no...I left my book I just came back to get it."

"You alright?" He asks 

"Slippery." You reply and pull back from him.

"By any chance is this it?" He asks holding up the copy of Romeo and Juliet. 

"Yeah, yes thank you." You say taking it and placing it in your bag. 

"Romeo an juliet Hm?" He says 

"Yeah I'm not actually one for reading but I saw it in the library and couldn't resist." 

"It was among Shakespeare's most popular plays during his lifetime and, along with Hamlet" he says 

You smile awkwardly and nod.

"Good to know" you reply.

There's a small shared silence between you two before you speak up at the buzz of your phone. 

"Sorry I'm gonna get going I'm parked at the quarter lot it's a bit of a walk." You say 

"M-mind if I walk with you I've parked there as well." He replies. You shake your head No and begin your walk with him to the lot once again. 

"So what exactly does the bau do?" You ask 

"BAU stands for behavioral analysis unit we used to be the BSU behavioral science unit but not anymore, its part of the ncbac the National center for analysis of violent crime which is also part of the cirg, critical incident response group, and um..im r-rambling I'm sorry."He apologizes and rubs his nape. 

"No, it's alright, it was interesting." You reply which makes him smile.

"U-um im a profiler. I profile people based on what murder they commit. I can see things others can't or would like to see. I study their patterns, behavior." 

"You can tell everything about someone by looking at them then" you say

"N-no well hmm?" He thinks you giggle 

"Do me." You say and stop. He turns to you. 

"Well then doctor...profile me." You reply holding your bag strap. 

"Mm well i'm not as good as Arron hotcher, my boss, but um...i can tell you have a cat by the fur on your scarf." He says 

"It's too easy to guess something else." 

"Okay by the way you wanted to get back to your car so quickly before I can tell you don't live on campus or in a dorm and you probably own a car that is on the more expensive side." He says. You nod and smile.

"And yet I can tell that you have no pets although you wish you wanted one but you can't because of how often you travel." You say 

"Well done." He smiles "you could be a profiler."

You shake your head no and look back up at him once again looking down again. 

"Again but try harder." You say he nods and observes you as your foot moves around in the snow below you. 

"Alright...you live alone, and you have for 4 years, your drawing in the snow with you foots which means you have siblings and played with them every winter, your not fond of eye contact because you keep looking down, it's due to a previous relationship between a parent who abused that privilege to look you in the eyes. By the way your phone is buzzing and you keep ignoring it. I assume it's a significant other...or ex that you don't want to see or talk to." He says waiting for your response. 

You chuckle. Beginning to walk again. 

"So...that's what you do." You reply 

He frowns. 

"You talk a lot," you smile at him. 

He chuckles and you continue your walk to the lot. After reaching it you find that you're conveniently parked next to each other. His a Prius yours, a GTR. 

"You were right Dr Reid about the cat, the car, the parents, the ex." You say. 

"What about siblings?" He asks you to press your car key to start it up to make sure it's warm. 

"My sister...passed away when we were 14." You reply. 

"Sorry." He says you shake your head. "It's alright," you say, putting your bag in your car. 

"Will I see you monday?" He asks 

"I have to take notes." You say and get in, putting on your seat belt and driving off.

View chapter 2 here

#spencer reid smut #spencer #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #Crimnal #minds #Bau #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid book

[thesecretcornerintheroom]

You didn’t ask me…

Pairing: Jackson Marchettie x black female reader

Warnings: Smut. (18+) Dirty talk, Angst, praise kink.

The plot: You go to a party to get over Jackson but you didn’t know it would be at his house….

Hey y’all long time no see😊 here’s a imagine for y’all I know it’s random but I was inspired this morning to write it.

Now y’all…This one is nasty

Oh my god, you know what's terrible? Have a callus test I didn’t study for said Aimee as she yelled at me with her breath, wreaking off whatever concoction was in the punch. “Right, well, I’m pretty sure you meant calculus, and don’t worry, Mr. Brown, postpone it till Monday,” I said, yelling over the loud music. Mave and Aimee said I have been more distant than usual. This is true between studying, my job after school and trying to forget about him…I’ve been occupied. So they decided to drag me out on a school night to a party, and they also decided to dress me and this dress, oh don’t get me started on the dress. OH Y/N, Mave says, running over giggly, “that guy over there keeps looking at you, and I overheard him say something about you, the dress being well fit.”

Even though those are words every teenager would love to hear at a party, not me, I was forced to come here and listen to music. I’m not particularly eager to tolerate people wreaking liquor, weed, and body fluid poring through their pores. “Lucky me,” I responded cheaply. “You know you got to get out of this rut. I understand you and- before Mave could finish the sentence, I cut her off. “Look, I told you I didn’t wanna come tonight, I told you I wasn’t ready, and the fact that I went to this party knowing it was going to be in his house makes me, even more, the bitter, okay” I said with a snappy and tight voice. Mave looked at me with sadness in her eyes “oh y/n we didn’t even think about that” she said looking at Aimee for a confirmation. “It’s fine, speaking of Calculus,” I told Aimee. “I need to go get something.”

As I make my way upstairs, away from all the drunk bodies and loud music, I feel a calming sensation run over me. I know exactly where I’m going. I’ve been here enough time to know which room is his. “Once u get upstairs, it's the second door down to your right,” was the instructions now engraved in my head. As I approached the door, I expected a lot of things. I expect him to be on the other side cause I haven’t seen him at his party. I expect to go in there and cry from memories that serve my heart no purpose. I also expect the door to be locked cause it is a party happening. But no, as I opened the door, I saw his room in typical shape, not too clean but also not too dirty signifies that someone is living there and using this room. The space was empty, so I decided to be quick about what I would do.

Walking over to his backpack, I picked up his bag, and Doug through it, looking for my Calculus book. I found it in my red notebook with the word I hate math written on top. And his drawing of a smiley face. I let him borrow the notebook two weeks before we split. Now I’m regretting it cause I have to cram and study for a test cause I haven’t asked for the notebook back. As soon as I turned to leave, I heard, “You know you just could’ve asked me, right.” This made me freeze. “I just needed my book to study, and I have nothing to say to you,” I said, trying to walk past him and avoid eye contact. “Nice dress. It’s not your vibe, though, is it?” He said, leaning against the doorway with a calm voice. I wore a long fitted dress that stopped at my ankles, with lace in it, and a slit that stopped mid-thigh. I will admit this dress is charming and did compliment my figure well. It just wasn’t my speed; I preferred sweaters and skirts and loafers. Mave made me wear it, but we comprise, and I put a white short-sleeved top under it.

“Wanted to try something different,” I said, still not looking at him. I feel him staring at me, though, soaking me up for everything that I am. “Y/n can we talk, please,” he said. I snapped my eyes up at him furiously, finally looking him in the face and looking him in the eyes those grayish brown eyes that I’ve looked at a thousand times before. “Talk about what, Jackson,” I say, his name with so much stiffness. I haven’t said his word or looked at him in weeks. When I’m at school, I avoid him and every spot I know he’ll be at.

“We have nothing to talk about. You told me that you needed time for yourself, that you felt like you were moving too fast and didn’t feel well, and how can I be mad at that? At least you were honest, and I understand that the last two years were rough on you, so I get that. So how can I be mad? How? I said words vomiting my feelings, my chest tightening and my voice shaking. I knew it was time to go before I started crying.

“It's okay to be mad at me, y/n” replied. Jackson, “you aren’t perfect, and I’m not perfect, and if this situation were simple, we wouldn’t be arguing right now,” said Jackson. With every word he says, he’s getting closer to me as I stand in the middle of the room, clenching my book for dear life. “I told you I wasn’t ready because I’m not,” he said with a quick breath. “Because when I still have these panic attacks, and I still find myself wanting to be isolated when it all becomes too much, so I’m not ready for someone like you who is strong and patient and willing. It would be wrong of me to ask you to endure that with me,” Jackson said, searching your eyes with his glossed over, hoping you would understand, and you know Jackson better than most. “The problem is you didn’t even ask me,” said y/n knowing that those words were as robust and one of the scariest things she could say. She was saying that she would take on his heartaches, and his burdens, while also being there to support him through his happiness and his celebrations.

Before y/n could even process the emotions she saw on his face, she felt a hand meet the back of her head, and his soft lips touched her. He was kissing her so softly, like he was afraid she would run away from her. But y/n had more to fear at this moment. She knew Jackson felt more scared than ever. Right now Jackson was like Bambi. He felt small and skittish. So y/n grabbed his wrist and kissed him back deeply. The kiss was soft and strategic, and they poured confirmations into each other without saying anything. Before she knew it, y/n panties were on the floor her dress was rising as the back of her knees connected with Jackson's bed. Jackson was now on top of y/n, taking his hands from her knee to her hip and bunging her dress up to her hips.

“Y/n,” Jackson said, nipping at her neck and hearing a moan release from Y/n. “Jackson,” she moaned as she felt everything around her slowly becoming undone. Her dress was now scrunched up on her hips her shirt and bra were somehow removed. “Jackson, Jackson, Jackson”where all that she thought could, which was linger his name as she felt herself come undone like a button. Her core was getting wetter and wetter and was throbbing. Her dress now not covering anything on her body but her waist and her breast exposed to the air in his room. Jackson stood up and undressed himself. At that moment, all y/n could do was admire him. How beautiful and rigid he looked and soft all at the same time. Once fully undressed, y/n grabbed him and pulled him back onto the bed. He spoke No words, but Jackson knew what he wanted to do. He put her on her back and connected his hips to her nipple while teasing her fold with his thumbs. He moved his finger to her clit. He wasted no time running it back and forth. This ignited something in y/n, making her gasp and arch her back while she had one of her hands grabbing his hair and the other one holding the sheets.

“Don’t hold back on me, okay” he said with his voice a little rougher than usual. He starts to finger her, not wasting any time spoiling her and her cunt. Going in and out of her making her body tense up. Y/n could feel herself being invaded, her wetness pooling onto his hands, the stickiness between her thighs. She couldn’t help but moan. Uh, she moaned, grabbing his wrist and making him go deeper she could feel his fingers inside her, his knuckle grazing the outer side and his finger curving to her insides. Oh fuck please she said, her hips tensing up. While her hand held his wrist, helping him with the motion, she enjoyed it so much. Jackson was in awe. He loved seeing her fuck herself by using him. His dick was hard against the bed, but he could wait cause this wasn’t about him right now.

Curving his two fingers just a Lil more, she moved his wrist faster. He felt her jerk. He grazed it, that spot. Before he knew it, he grabbed his wrist with his other hand and pinned it down, and started to go back and forth, hitting that spot. From his view, it was Lovely seeing her cunt swell and her getting wetter and the build-up of her cum on her thighs and it dripping from her. He was in absolute paradise. “Oh fuck please she said, her mouth gapped open, her hips spasming while her legs were wide open for him. As y/n felt herself coming undone again. She felt the feeling building in her core. “Let it go, my love,” Jackson said as he started to suck on your clit while fingering you. Your body was in overdrive now and was sensitive. You jerked at the feeling. “Oh fuck” you said. Jackson held you down with one hand on your lower stomach. You don’t know precisely what it did. You don’t know if it was the fingers, the sucking, or the pressure, but you came. The release left your body, and you were shaking.

As Jackson rose from his position, his chin glistened and his dick hard panting. “Here, let me help you get yourself back together he said, trying to find your bra. Over…this isn’t over. It’s his turn now. You suddenly realize that you are still in his house, and a party is still going on downstairs with over 100 occupied bodies. Even though you were weak, your body was eating the high. You crawled to the edge of the bed and said, turning to grab his dick, causing Jackson to moan, “Y/n wait” Before you could register, you stopped. “Are you sure your body has been through a lot and”-Fuck that You thought, grabbing his dick and licking his head made Jackson's knees buckle.

As you took him in, as far as you could, you started to play with his balls. You noticed that Jackson now had his hands on your shoulder, squeezing them tightly as you sat on the edge of the bed. You look up to see him with his head back, Addams apple Bobbing. Realsing my mouth from his base, I tasted the salty pre-crum swelling at the head. I worked my way down to his balls and licked and teased them as my hand grabbed his base, and my wrist engaged in the motion, causing his body to cleanse and his grip on my should to tighten. This made me giggle. I grabbed his hands and put them on the back of my head. Jackson looked down at me and shook my head. He held his dick and placed it on my lips, waiting for me to open my mouth.

As I opened my mouth, I felt his hand grab the back of my head and push me down slowly. As I look up, he’s looking at me in all my glory, titties out, mouth stuffed, and my lips moving back and forth on his shaft. He let out a strangled moan “shit, y/n, we can’t be up here all night,” he said breathlessly. His statement made me suck harder cause, yes, we can. His eye snapped open, and his hand started moving my head faster. I feel his vein throbbing on my challenging I see his stomach tightening. The saliva and pre cum are all over his dick, glistening. As he moves his hips in my mouth, words and moans fall from his lips. “You make me feel so good, and I’m sorry for- the words were interrupted by a deep and rough moan due to me playing with his balls and sucking harder. I don’t want to hear any sorry I want you to come undone.

His hip where now moving erratically, his hip moving more sloppily now his dick was wet and covered and cum, and the vein that was throbbing on my tongue was now realizing the salty/sweet taste in my mouth and down my throat. His dick left my mouth with a pop. And his body flopped on the bed. He was lying beside me, breathless, tired. I laid back on the bed beside him and looked at the ceiling, and said, “I know you're sorry, but when I said that your pain is my pain as well as your joys and pleasures, I meant that” as I turned to him on the bed looking him in his eyes, his eyes low and his breathing slowed. “ I forgive you,” I said, looking into his eyes, making sure he understood me. “Now,” I said, standing up, fixing my dress, disregarding my undergarments, and placing the dress back on me nicely while checking myself in the mirror and throwing Jackson his underwear. “Let’s get back to the party.”

#jackson marchetti imagines #sex education #sex education imagine #y/n #reader

[baylardo]

miscellaneous threshold au halfbaked thoughts bc idk ive been playing sims and frying my brain

had another CAPTAIN philippa arc thought about her becoming a wanted criminal by starfleet, framed for whatever reason,,, its vague in my head but im always looking for an excuse to explore trekverse outside of starfleet haha. her just out in space trying to clear her name. would not have a cringe court scene of people backing her claim. i would die.

was thinking that philippa as a field medic might be more prone to being stationed on PLANETS rather than ships for long periods of time, just helping out in planetary warfare.

with that ^ i was thinking about her helping out during a pandemic and her hyperevolved human blood helps find a cure in some way. was thinking id situate this around the time that shes a commander serving underneath Moidrah, her captain kinda 👀s her after discovering the cure with her DNA.

feel so sick in the head looking at irish girl names for a hypothetical peppa daughter but im not set on anything NOT CANON but i have a feeling ill be indulging in Sims lmao so im looking 😞😞😞 Mave/Mavis sticks out to me

was talking with tardi about maybe Liam and Jace flying planes together on earth seeing as theyre both kinda grounded there together. have a unique little telepathic sign language hybrid way of speaking with each other.

ALSO was thinking that maybe Liam would have a unique little padd that he carries around that writes out what people are verbally saying when hes younger and doesnt have lip reading down?? idk on that one haha i was trying to think of more “futuristic” ways he could seamlessly exist around so many different alien spoken languages. was wondering about the visuals of mouths moving, how the universal translators are an Audible adjustment, how itd maybe be unable to help with how aliens are Actually talking and moving their mouths speaking their native tongues. my thought was that Ed would help put all these languages in his lil padd device and it translates it all into written english (or whatever humans speak, Standard??? idk i feel like it has a name)

wanna work with amelia and ed during Protectors more,,,, QUITE HONESTLY a lot of the chakotay plot was just them talking,,,,, from what i remember lol its a blur. but i was yearning thinking about the end of that book when theyre on the ark planet with all the Protectors and theyre all helping to grow stuff and Liam (O’Donnell) in particular is playing with the Protectors hehe,,,, anyway thinking about amelia and ed being down there with their papa, particularly Ed being around weird animals. maybe Ed hangs out with ODonnell as hes analyzing the planet’s animals for those few chapters,,,,, i forget what all the other characters are doing during that book tbH,,,,,,,, i just want them to be equally having done stuff during those four months of Protectors yknow;)

#threshold au #i havent read book in a minute ive been playing house in sims lololol #living my hallmark movie single kathryn having triplets cursed dreams 😞👍

[tinypockett]

welcome to my blog!!

if your wondering who I am and what I do , lemme introduce myself, I'm tiny, I'm a self taught digital artist who never went to art school so pls understand that I'm not good at anatomy, I sometimes change my art style so expect changes here and then, I refuse not to tell my date of birth, I was born in August 29th, I always have back pain from drawing for you guys and I'm always moody and sleepy. I make pics, arts, comics, and ect, I mainly do art tho.

PLEASE DONT STEAL ART! IT IS COMMON SENSE IN THE ART COMMUNITY

( I really don’t care if you trace me as tracing is common for beginners artist at this point but pls heavily credit me and please note I’m a self taught artist and I such at anatomy )

🎨My oc emayris "bia" Everly

Bias first introduction

🎨Soap x bia

🧼Soap x bia masterlist 🐿️

all my art!!!!! 🖼🎨🖌

General

●I'm self taught so please understand that not all my art will "be good" so don't expect all my art post to satisfy you, if you hate my art I really don't care nor have time to care so please bare with me

●I've been drawing for as long as I can remember

●my English is not the perfection

●I'm hispanic and I have both spanish and English speaking family

●I love making comics :)

●I ship my oc with soap so if you dont like PLEASE CLICK OUT MY BLOG . ***CLICK OUT IF U HATE OC SHIPPING!!!!!!***

❄️Fandoms and my interest❄️

●call of duty (no dip) I mostly lik3 mw2 og and also cold War

●overtime

●DEMON SLAYERRRR

●tv girl (the band)

•Lucifer the Netflix show

•overtime

•Detroit become human

Not interested in :T

●furrys

●therians

(Sorry, no hate for furrys or therians I'm just not into those stuff)

●politics

●all forms of negativity

●bullying

Disclaimer!!

●I read all your comments!! And dms!! But due to academic reasons I might not respond quick SOMETIMES

● you can use my art as icons and pfps but pls keep my name @tinypockett

● pls don't hate on me, I have way to much crap going on, my shoulders hurt from lifting heavy backpacks, my back hurts for drawings for you guys and due to not having a chair, since I live in a small house and can't fit a chair in my room, I'm always tired due to waking up 6 in the morning everyday and in weekends I draw my butt of for you guys for hours and wake up early to deal with my cats and sunlight since I don't have a very good blinds or window shields (idk name) so I don't get enough sleep. And more problems so please don't bother making it worst :(

● I'm never going to do art commission for money nor will I except one so pls don't ask for a commission or ask if I do bc I don't. Mavee I'd do fanart FOR FUN AND TO MAKE PEOPLES DAY.

●idk about art collaborations I most likely won't do those

●I never did a art trade but I'm going to consider doing art trades if you want!

"Can I draw your ocs? Or make fics about them?"

Of course no need to ask at all!! I absolutely love fanart it makes my day and of course make fics! Just no sexual abuse or r**e in it

"How long does it take to make a art project?"

Easy: 30-45 mins

Average: 1-2 hours

Med: 4 hours

Hard: 17 hours

References: too long.

**Please don't use my art and claim it as your own!!**

(tracing is somewhat okay just don't don't claim it as your own and please heavingly credit me if not I'll call you out and ask you to delete. It's common sense not to steal art so please dont.!

not that you know everything and what I do please enjoy your stay and I hope to make new friends and supporters thank you !

#welcoming #enjoy life #Enjoy your stay #About me #Learn about tiny #introduction #intro post #Blog #Welcome to my blog #Pinned post #Artist #learn about me #Learn about the artist