#but she didn’t do anything to set them up she just made fun of phoenix

[gumdefense]

We have moved past Maya and Franziska wingmanning narumitsu as a society. They would not fucking do that. We need to realise the truth which is that Larry and Gumshoe would try to wingman them and only succeed through failure

[sometimesanalice]

Bad Idea

Summary: After being deployed, all Bradley wanted was to have a fun night out with his friends and let loose. That is until he sees the woman who broke up with him, who he still isn’t over.  At his bar. With another man. And then he is in the mood to make some bad decisions. 

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Warnings: mutual pining, a little angst, smuttt. Minors DNI

Length: 6.3K

After being deployed for three months, Bradley had been looking forward to getting off that carrier and having a night out with his friends. Having a couple more beers than he should, kicking Hangman’s ass at pool, maybe flirting one of the many tag chasers that frequented the Hard Deck.

He wants to let loose a bit. Just for a while. 

The team is scattered around the bar. Some are hovering around the pool table, a few others hogging the dart board. He’s seated at one of the stools around the pool table, half listening to Fanboy recount some of his amusing antics during basic flight training in between lining up his shots, when he feels Phoenix nudge his arm to get his attention.

“Oh shit, is that…” she starts and trails off. 

He turns around in his seat expecting to find some friend from a former squadron or someone they went to TOPGUN with, and instead he sees you. 

The woman that he has spent the last three months trying to get over.

And you’re here in front of him looking entirely too comfortable with another man.

“Is that Zach Collins she’s with?” Phoenix asked pointedly, being decidedly unsubtle as she studies you and your date. 

“Sure looks like it,” he grunts. He lets his eyes linger on you, absorbing the shape of your curves. 

You are just as pretty as ever. The summer had been good to you, all your sun kissed skin was on display in the strappy open back top you were wearing. 

There’s a cluster of freckles on your right shoulder blade, he can’t see them from here, but he remembers their exact placement all the same. 

He feels the low pull in his stomach, not surprised in the least that you still have this effect on him. He wants to trace those straps with his fingers, wants to see if your skin is just as smooth as knew it to be.

You should be here with him.

Collins was fine. 

Bradley had worked with the engineer a few times in the past, and there wasn’t anything wrong with the guy. Except for that one time he asked one of the new female engineers to make the coffee for the team’s weekly debrief, which he was quickly put in his place for.

He was just boring as fuck. 

And apparently somehow lucky enough to have caught your eye.

“Damn, I really liked her,” Phoenix lamented, watching as your date handed you a drink, “What the hell did you do to send her into Collins arms?” 

“Thanks for the support, Nat,” he grumbles, down the rest of his beer in one go. Squeezing the empty glass a little too hard when he sees Collins checking out your ass as you leaned forward to chat with Penny above the noise of the bar. 

“But seriously, Rooster, she was so into you,” she continued as she turned back towards him, looking at him scrutinizingly, “There was no way that she would have been the one to end it with you, so what were you thinking letting her go?”

“Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t just bet on that.” He was regretting downing his beer, he’d need another one if Nat is going to give him the third degree.

“Hold up, she dumped you?” she asks perplexed, her eyebrows pulling together.

“Yup.” The word was flat and hollow even in his own ears.

He’d spent most of his free time during that deployment working off his feelings in the weight room. 

Instead of counting his sets, he was thinking about you and racking his brain trying to figure out what went wrong. Going over the night you broke up with him over and over again. Pushing himself until his arms shook and his legs couldn’t support the added weights. Combing through everything he could think of, only to come up with nothing. 

You hadn’t been dating that long, but you had made him happier than he had felt in a long time. And he thought he had made you happy too.  

He had been so into you.

And now you’re here at the bar he used to bring you to and standing close to Zach fucking Collins instead of being tucked under his arm.

Smiling at Zach fucking Collins instead of grinning at him.

Politely chuckling with Zach fucking Collins instead of unabashedly laughing with him. 

Bradley hated the feeling settling in his stomach as he watched you give Zach fucking Collins your full attention. He can still remember how good it felt to have it directed at him. How warm it made his chest when you turned the full force of your smile on him.

You must feel the intensity of his stare or of his wishful thinking because you turn to scan the bar, and he swears he stops breathing for a second when your eyes snag on his. The smile freezing on your lips as you hold his gaze.

If it wasn’t completely obvious before this, it’s even more clear to him that he is absolutely nowhere near being over you. And with you looking at him now, he doesn’t want to be. 

He can’t quite read the look that’s in your eyes, but it makes his gut twist with longing.

And then Zach fucking Collins is putting his hand on your bare shoulder, pulling your attention back to him. 

All Bradley knows in that moment is that he needs to talk to you right fucking now. That he wants you back.

“I need another beer,” he announces, tapping his knuckles on the table. 

“That seems like a bad idea considering who is currently occupying the bar. How about I go get the next round?” Nat suggested, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Funny you’d say that, since that’s exactly what I was thinking too.”

He had an idea coming together, he couldn’t claim it was a good one, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

“Rooster.”

“Phoenix,” he retorted, “Remember when I covered for you when you were hooking up with that civvy in the barracks? I’m calling in the favor, Nat.”

“Why do I feel like this has the potential to be a bad idea?” she muttered, shaking her head as she slid out of her chair.

As he watches Natasha weave her way through the crowd, he realizes there are a variety of ways this could backfire. But he pushes all those thoughts out of his head when he sees her striking up a conversation with the engineer, providing the distraction he needs to talk with you alone.

He saunters up to the bar, admiring your profile as he gets closer. Raising a hand to flag Penny down as he settles down next to you.

“It’s good to see you, Rooster. It’s been awhile. Another one for you?” Penny asks, and he feels you stiffen next to him. 

“Thanks, Penny. It’s nice to be home. And I’ll take a pint of the Pale Ale too, please.”

Bradley watches as Penny briefly glances at you. He gives her a small nod in confirmation as she grabs the glasses to pour the beers. 

She slides them over giving him an entirely too knowing look before turning to help another patron. 

“How have you been?” he asks as he passes you the beer, noting that your perfume hasn’t changed since he’s been gone.

“I’ve been fine, Rooster,” you say mildly. 

“You look good,” he murmurs softly. 

He’s not surprised when you that, instead choosing to make small talk since your date was conveniently occupied, “So…How long were you away?”

“Three months,” he says leaning a hip against the bar to face you.

He sees as you put it together, that he’s been gone almost as long as you’ve been broken up.

“Well, I’m glad you’re home safe. But you didn’t need to do that,” you say gesturing to the drink.

The one you are nursing is still over half full, but it feels right that he should be the one buying your drinks. 

“What’s one beer between…” he pauses for a moment, letting his gaze playfully rake over you before settling on, “Friends.”

Your eyebrow ticks up pointedly, “My ex probably shouldn’t be buying me a drink when I’m on a date with someone else.”

We don’t have to be.

“Tell me, what’s Collins bringing to the table?” he asks jerking his chin towards the dull engineer. 

He tried to swallow down the flicker of irritation that sparked when he said the other man’s name, but the frustration wells up in his chest.

“Don’t,” you say sharply, your pretty eyes flashing, “You don’t get to act jealous, Rooster. You are the one who wanted to break up with me.”

“What are you talking about?” he presses, feeling his brows knitting together, “You’re the one who broke up with me.” 

“Stop. I may have beat you to it, but I heard you talking to Jake,” your voice had gone tight, and you wouldn’t look at him, “You told him how you wanted to end it, but weren’t sure how to do it. So I did it for you.” 

This conversation was not going the way he hoped it would, and now he was more confused than ever.

“Wait, what?” he asks settling a hand on your waist to turn you towards him. He genuinely had no clue where you’d gotten that from, “I didn’t want to break up.”

“Seriously, Rooster?” Your eyes shoot back to him and he can see your temper flaring there.

Shaking your head at him in frustration, you grab his hand and pull him away from the bar to a quiet corner of the bar. 

He’d be more smug about how you’ve ditched your date for him, if his mind wasn’t all over the place trying to figure out what the hell you were talking about.

“I came out on the patio that night to see if you and Jake wanted another round, and I heard you. ‘I don’t know how to tell her, and we’ve only been together three months. It’s just too much.’ Does that sound familiar?” you questioned, raising your chin at him in a challenge.

Of course, he remembers that night. 

As if he hadn’t played it over and over.  He remembered how withdrawn you had been when he had come back inside with Jake. You ended things with him less than thirty minutes later.

And now he knows why. 

It hadn’t been him. It was a misunderstanding. A conversation taken out of context. The pressure in his chest that had been building up eases.

He can’t erase the last three months, but he can fix this. He needs to fix this.

You look so hurt, and all he wants to do is pull you to his chest. 

“I didn’t want to wait around for you to break my heart, so I made it easy for you and ended it myself instead,” your voice thick.

He is waiting for you to realize that your hand is still in his.

“I wasn’t going to end it,” he promised as he steps closer to you, squeezing your hand, “That night on the patio? I told Jake about my orders, I wanted to ask him how he had navigated the long distance with his girlfriend. I didn’t know how to tell you I was going to be shipped out last minute and gone for basically as long as we had been together.” 

“The deployment you just came back from,” you whisper, as realization dawned on your face.

He nods and searches your eyes, willing you to be back on the same page as him. He hasn’t stopped wanting you, not once since you broke things off with him. 

There is a hopefulness in your eyes for the first time since he approached you at the bar, and he’s encouraged.

And then he sees your face fall.

“I… I should get back to my date,” you mumbled, dropping his hand and looking away from him.

“I wasn’t going to end it,” he repeats firmly, ducking his head trying meet your avoidant gaze.

He needs you to hear him. 

“It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done,” you tell him quietly as you walk back to Collins where he was still wrapped up in whatever small talk Nat had been forcing on him.

“The hell it is,” he says to himself, resolve firm in his chest. 

You tried to keep up with Zach as he chattered away, you really did. But try as you might you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the propulsion system his team was developing. 

You hadn’t been back to the Hard Deck since you ended things with Bradley.

When Zach had suggested bringing you here, you balked a bit at the thought of running into any of the people you had met and befriended through Bradley. 

At the idea of being known as just his ex. 

At the possibility of seeing him again.

It had been three months, you should be over him. Hearing his name shouldn’t still make your heart stutter in your chest. Seeing him in that ridiculous Hawaiian shirt shouldn’t make you long to take it off of him.

He looked so good tonight. 

You didn’t know how it was possible, but he looks even more broad now than he did before.

Bradley Bradshaw’s baseline is handsome, but tonight it’s been a test to keep yourself from admiring the way the cuff on his shirt hugs his biceps. How the ridges of his abs stand in relief against his undershirt. Did his jeans always grip to his thighs like that?

And god, you feel terrible about thinking about him like that when you’re literally on a date with another man. But not guilty enough to stop yourself from checking him out every chance you got.

And there was no avoiding him, Bradley was everywhere. A constant reminder of just how royally you fucked everything up. 

He was already at the bar when you were planning on getting about her round. 

Hovering near the jukebox when you were about to go feed it some quarters to put a stop to the painful and unending Jason Aldean retrospective. 

Needless to say, your glass remained empty, but thankfully someone changed the music and one of your favorite bands was playing over the speakers. 

It is impossible not to feel his presence, his energy. You swear there are times you feel his heated gaze on you, the sensation of it sending pulses of electricity down your spine. 

He wasn’t going to dump you.

Bradley seemed too good to be true, so when you overheard that conversation you’d let your mind spiral instead of just talking to him. Because what else could he have been talking about other than figuring out how to end things with you?

A deployment apparently. 

He had called and texted afterwards, and you deleted every single attempt without looking. Why didn’t you just talk to him?

And you couldn’t see a way to get back to how things were with him, now that he’d seen you self-destruct in spectacular fashion. 

Why would he want to be with you after you dumped him so casually, like it didn’t mean anything. Like he didn’t mean anything to you. 

God, you were such an idiot. 

Zach had been gone for a few minutes. He went to get another drink for himself, and had apparently forgotten about it since he was engaged in deep conversation with someone you recognized as a member of his team from the introductions earlier in the evening.

You’re startled by a warm hand skimming your shoulder. Surprised when Bradley pulls out the chair next to you, his knee nudging yours as he settles into it like he belongs there. 

“How long have you been seeing him?” he asks, leaning in to your space.

“It’s our third date.”

You weren’t sure what he was playing at, but if this was going to be one of the last times you saw him, you were going to let yourself have this. Even if it was a terrible idea.

“How’d you meet?”

“As one does in the twenty-first century, on an app,” you retort, tapping a couple fingers on your phone that is resting on the table.

Truth be told, you had only installed it after a drunken Girls Night a couple weeks ago. Zach was the first person you’ve been out with since Bradley. And you were quickly learning that he had set the bar high.

“Our story is better,” he rasps, there was an unwavering intensity in way he was looking at you. 

“Well, not everyone gets a meet cute, Rooster,” you sigh resigned. 

“We did.”

You can smell faintest hint of bourbon and bitters on his breath. He told you once it’s usually his liquor of choice when he is in the mood to make some bad decisions. And you briefly wonder whether or not that’s the reason why he is drinking it tonight.

“Yes, we did,” you admit softly.

Bradley Bradshaw had literally knocked you off your feet before he figuratively swept you off of them. 

He had been absolutely mortified when he had accidentally collided with you during a game of dog fight football when you had been walking along the beach after brunch with your friends. He had all but carried you up to the Hard Deck to help clean you up and to make sure you were ok.

Concern turned into flirting, “you’re too pretty for a concussion” he’d told you. While the line was cheesy, the snug denim shorts he was wearing were decidedly not. And then flirting turned into an invitation to meet up later that day where he could properly apologize in the form of a great night out and drinks on him. 

And a couple weeks later you were spending most nights in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets and sandalwood scent. 

You feel instantly warm remembering just how good it felt to have Bradley’s strong body pressed against yours.

“Has he made you come?” 

“Jesus, Bradley!” You shoot straight up in your seat, looking around wide-eyed trying to make sure no one overheard that particular comment. Shocked by his words and the way he seemed to know where your mind had wandered. 

“Do you remember our second date?” he questioned, his voice dropping lower. He’s even closer now.

Of course, you remembered. 

There was no way you could ever forget the way he had worked you with his fingers in his Bronco parked at a scenic viewpoint along the coast. How it felt to writhe on his lap with your dress rucked up your thighs as he rasped dirty praise in your ear. 

You had never moved that quickly with anyone. Had ever felt that much chemistry with anyone. Had never wanted anyone as much as you had wanted him. Had never come as quick with anyone else.

You felt hot all over. With confusion. With longing. 

“Bradley,” you warned, it sounded weak in your own ears.

“I wasn’t going to end it,” he steadfastly tells you again for the third time this evening.

“I heard you the first time,” you snap.

You are entirely too aware of how you fucked everything up. It’s been the only thing on your mind all night since he told you.

“You sure about that?” The irritation in his voice, matching the heat in his eyes, “Then what are you still doing with him?” 

It wasn’t fair for him to toy with you like this. He said it was a beer between friends. He hasn’t said anything that makes you think he would give you a second chance. That door was closed, but it didn’t hurt any less. Not when you were still so into him.

“He’s… nice,” you mutter unconvincingly, fiddling with your coaster.

“Nice?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, Bradley. Nice.” You can hear how defensive you sound, but somewhere in the back of your mind realize that you’re having a better time arguing with Bradley than you’ve had all night with Zach.

“Baby, Collins is as bland as that gluten free bread you keep trying to trick yourself into liking.”

You can’t control the laugh that escapes you in that moment. 

Surprised that he remembers that about you, almost as if he knew about the sad sandwich you had lamented over during your lunch break earlier in the day. When you promised yourself that you’d stop buying that terribly unsatisfying gluten free bread.

The heated pressure that has been building between the two of you breaks. His eyes soften and the tension leaves his face as the corner of his mouth twitches up in a half smile.

“I missed that sound,” he murmurs, as he traces a thumb along the delicate skin of your wrist. “I thought about it a lot on that carrier. Thought about how much I missed you. Your laugh. Your smile. The sounds you made in my bed.”

Your breath catches in your throat. And for the first time that night you think there might be a chance.

You don’t know, but you’re desperate to find out. Your heart is pounding, as you open your mouth to ask the question-

“Hey, Bradshaw,” Zach interrupts, returning back to the table with a fresh drink in his hand, “I heard you just got back.”

You jerk back, surprised by just how close you and Bradley had gravitated towards each other during the conversation. How had you not noticed that your faces had been scarcely a few inches away from each other?

Bradley’s unwavering gaze is still on you. You can feel him willing you to ask the question that had been on the tip of your tongue, but you barely knew where you stood with him. 

Could barely think around him when he looked at you like that.

“Do you guys know each other?” he asks curiously, glancing between the two of you as Bradley ignores him in favor of staring at you.

“Uhm, yeah. You could say that,” you hedge uncomfortably, trying not to fidget in your seat.

“Biblically,” you hear him huff under his breath, for your ears only.

“Well, the dart board is finally open. How about we play couple rounds?” Zach suggests, settling his hand on your shoulder.  

You can tell by the way Bradley is flexing his jaw that he wants to say more. And you’re dying to throw yourself at him, to ask him if he would ever want to open that door again. 

But you had read him so wrong the first time, you didn’t trust yourself not to get it wrong again.

So you slide off the stool instead, “I’ll see you around, Rooster.”

Phoenix told him he was watching you with a stalker-like intensity, Bradley argued he was just being observant. 

“And don’t even think about sending me back in to try and distract Collins again. Frankly, I think you owe me a favor now. That guy is painfully boring,” she’d complained.

If you didn’t want him, he hoped you could figure out a way to be friends. Even if you did have history. 

And friends tell each other the truth, like when they’re dating the human equivalent of a rice cake. Or that they should forget about the rice cake completely and come back to him instead.

He noticed when your beer was getting low, and just so casually stationed himself near the bar for another chance to talk to you. But when you didn’t move for a refill, he had to resort to more drastic measures.

It had hurt him to pay for and queue up that terrible country music, but he figured it would be worth it if he could catch you by the jukebox, knowing that you hated this music just as much as he did.

But you when didn’t get up to change it as he expected you to, he’d put on one of your favorite artists instead and made his way back to his friends. Trying to figure out how else he could get you alone to talk. 

Usually he didn’t mind an audience, but tonight he didn’t want anyone else getting in between the two of you.

He thought he would finally have his moment to make you see reason and choose him when Collins had gotten waylaid at the bar, probably talking about math equations or whatever the fuck engineers talked about. 

But that conversation had only left him half hard and entirely desperate for you. And he didn’t feel any closer to getting you back than he had at the beginning of the night.

Having been banished by Jake for being “pathetically sulky”, he was sitting at the bar by himself staring into his untouched Old Fashioned. Which worked just fine for him, he wasn’t in the mood to be around anyone other than you.

Bradley wasn’t ready to be done. 

He could see it in your eyes that you weren’t ready to be done either, but he couldn’t figure out why you were holding back. He thought he had been clear that he still wanted you. 

Now that you knew it had all be a misunderstanding, he’d respect your decision if you didn’t want to be with him. But he needed to hear you say it. To tell him to his face.

You couldn’t actually think that Collins was a good match for you. You deserved so much better than that guy. 

And he wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you turning down the hallway towards the bathrooms, and he struck with another bad idea. Probably the worst one of the night. 

Shooting up from his seat, he catches up with you in a few long strides. And then recklessly, he is grabbing you by the wrist as he pulls you with him into the Hard Deck’s storage room.

You whirl on him instantly, “Oh my god, Bradley! What the hell?”

He knows he had been toeing the line all night, but now he’s made you angry. 

And it shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. The blaze in your eyes, the way your chest is rapidly rising up and down. Even in this dingy, dimly lit room you’re still the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

“Sorry, sorry,” he tries to soothe, putting both his hands up. “But you and I both know we weren’t finished talking before Collins-”

“Enough, Bradley. You weren’t going to end it. I get it, I messed up!” you cut him off, putting a hand to your chest, “You’re already so hard to move on from, but I don’t think I can handle anymore of you dangling what could have been in my face. It’s not fair that you won’t let me try, if you don’t want me that way anymore.”

You turn to leave and his heart squeezes in his chest. This can’t be it. He doesn’t want this to be the end.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he desperately reaches out, pulling you against his chest. You tense as he wraps his arms around the front of you, “What gave you that idea? Talk to me. Please.”

It feels right to have you in his arms again. To hold you. And you fit just as perfectly against him as he remembered.

“I feel like you’re giving me mixed signals. You called us friends at the bar, but then you tell me all the ways you thought about me while you were deployed,” you admit quietly, “I don’t know what to think. And I already ruined a good thing, I don’t want to be wrong again.”

He would prove just how serious he was about you in whatever way you wanted. In words. In actions. Or if you wanted him to fuck some sense into you, he’d happily oblige.

Nothing mattered more to him than figuring this out with you. He wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers a second time. 

“Let me be as clear as possible, I don’t want you to move on from me. Because I still want you,” he murmurs, letting his lips skim up your neck to the shell of your ear, “I never stopped wanting you. So if you want me, baby, you’ve got me.”

“As easy as that?” you ask cautiously, almost disbelievingly.

“As easy as that,” he promises.

“Of course I want you, Bradley,” you breathe, as you settle your hand over his where they are wrapped around you, melting into him, “I didn’t want to get my hopes up, not when I still like you so much.”

“Then I’m yours,” he grins, as he nudges your temple with his nose.

He likes the way your name feels in his mouth, as he kisses your neck and whispers your name against the skin there.

“Bradley,” you whisper. 

“Does it feel like I want to be just friends with you?” he asks, pressing himself more firmly against curve of your ass.

“No,” you moan, as you lean your head back against his shoulder, where it belongs.

“You’ve got me,” he murmurs, as he presses line of kisses along shoulder, “Now show me how you want me, baby.”

Taking his left hand, you guide it up to rest against your chest. He can feel how rapidly your heart is beating under his palm, he thinks his is going just as fast. And with the other, you smooth it down the front of your body until its resting low on your stomach.

You squeeze his hands briefly, letting go of them for long enough for you to unbutton to your jeans, before encouraging his right hand to go lower.

Bradley lets his fingers lightly trail over the top of your panties. He groans, recognizing them by feel alone, “Are these the little blue ones I got you?”

“They’re my favorites.” You tell him as you arch into him, trying to get his fingers to go lower still.

“I’m the only one who gets to see these on you,” he growls as he pulls out his hand to yank down your zipper.

“Yes, only you,” you keen, “There hasn’t been anyone else since you. Only wanted you.”

He feels frenzied now as he shoves your tight jeans down to you knees.

He wants you needy and writhing for him. He wants to feel you wet for him. He wants you to come chanting his name. He imagined taking you so many ways when he was on that carrier, he almost can’t believe he gets to have you this way again.

“You’ve got me.”

It’s a promise. It’s a vow.

He thrusts his denim clad knee between your thighs to hold you open as he slides his fingers back into the pretty light blue panties he bought for you.

You cry out when his fingers connect with your clit. He works you there with deliberately slow circles, satisfied by how wet you already are for him.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he says, resting his forehead against your temple. 

“Me too. Missed you so much,” you murmur as you stroke his forearm, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Bradley.”

He shushes you dropping a kiss to the crown of your head, threading the fingers of his free hand between yours, “It’s all good, baby. We’re good.”

It’s not long before you’re trying to grind against his hand, eager for more than what he is giving you. He wants to draw this out, wants to tease you a little longer.

“Please.”

“Please, what?” he lightly prompts. 

“Bradley, it’s been so long,” your breath hitches when he switches up his movements of his fingers, “Please.”

“I know, baby. I promise I’ll get you there. But you’ve got to wait a little longer,” he croons in your ear, adding a bit more pressure, “Not going to let you come on my fingers when you’re still on a date with another man.”

You whine as he rubs his mustache along your neck, he feels the shiver that courses through your body. Smiling to himself that he is the one who is making you feel good, not anyone else. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says as he tightens the circles he is rubbing on your clit, “You’re going to tell Collins it isn’t going to work out. Then, we are going straight to the Bronco and you can ride my fingers like you did on our second date. And after you come, I’m going to take you home and show you just how much I’ve missed you.” 

The sweet kisses his is placing on your cheek are in stark contrast to his filthy promises. 

“I already did.”

“Say that again,” he demands, slowing down the movement of his fingers. 

“I already ended it,” you repeat with a whine, as your hips roll against him desperate for the release he is withholding from you.  “Told him I wasn’t over my ex. I just want you, Bradley.” 

The zipper of his jeans is almost painful with how hard he is, but he is too absorbed in the feel of you to bother unzipping himself for a little temporary relief. He’d willingly suffer as long as he got to hear your sweet whimpers and sighs at his hands.

He was yours.

“Did you delete that stupid app?” He didn’t consider himself a possessive man, but you made him greedy for more.

“Been a little busy,” you quip breathlessly, as you reach around to palm him through his jeans.

“I want to watch you delete it as you fuck yourself on my cock,” he grunts into your ear.

“Fuck,” you gasp, “Bradley.” Your hand flies up to the back of his neck, nails biting into the skin there.

You are even wetter now beneath his fingers. 

“Tell me you’re mine.” He wanted to hear it.

“I’m yours,” you pant into his neck, licking a stripe up the tendon there, “I’m yours. Now make me come and take me home.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” he promises with a grin as he redoubles his efforts against your clit. 

There’s no teasing in the way he precisely works you. 

He remembers the way you like to be touched. He knows how you’ll sigh when he rubs you up and down. How you whimper when he alternates the circular caresses against your hypersensitive skin. The way you clench when he glides rough figure-eights over your clit.

“I’m so close.” You’re trembling in his arms now.

“What do you need, baby?” he asks, switching his attentions to the diagonal strokes that always gets you there quickly.

“Just you,” you plead into the crook of his neck, “Just you.” 

You take the hand that’s been guiding the motions of your hips against his fingers, and settle it over your breast. Whining as he thumbs at your hardened nipple.

“You’ve got me, I’m yours,” he rasps softly.

And then you’re shuddering in his arms you fly apart for him. Body shaking with the aftershocks he pulls from you as he softly teases you with one gentle fingertip, as he coos sweet praise against the shell of your ear.

Bradley removes his hand from your now thoroughly ruined panties, and you spin around to wrap your arms around his neck. He tightens his hold on you as you come down, letting one hand make soothing circles on your lower back.

After you’ve caught your breath, you pull him down for a kiss. Your tongue languidly sliding against his. He’s missed having your lips on his.

“Can’t believe I got you off on my fingers before I got my mouth back on you,” he mutters against your mouth.

“I liked it,” you smile.

“Good,” he says as he helps you to pull your pants up, “Because we’ve still got a date with the Bronco and my bed tonight.”

You kiss his cheek as he redoes the top button for you.

“How do I look?” you ask as you try to fix your hair and straighten out your top.

You look like you’ve been fucked.

The smirk on his face must give away his thoughts, because you’re lightly hitting him on the chest with a shy smile before turning towards the door.

“Wait a second,” he pauses you with a hand to your wrist, “Your bow.”

You glance over your shoulder at him curiously.

The flimsy strings of your backless top hand managed to come undone. He skims a finger down the exposed skin, like he had been dying to all night, before retying it for you.

“There. You’re perfect,” he says ducking down to kiss your shoulder before opening the door for you.

He was hoping that the coast would be clear for when the made their escape, and instead he sees Nat leaning against the wall at the end of the hall looking entirely too smug for her own good.

“You owe me a favor,” she says pointing at him, before turning that finger on you, “And you, owe me brunch. Preferably with bottomless mimosas. Because I just saved both your asses from getting caught by Penny. And now I owe Jake a favor. So, you owe me big time.” She gives you both a knowing look before walking away.

You bury your face in his chest laughing.

“I’ll make us some reservations for next week,” you call out to her retreating figure, and Nat throws a thumbs up into the air not breaking her stride. And then you’re looking up at him, “Come on, let’s go. Don’t want to be late for our reservations in the Bronco.”

He grins down at you feeling lighter than he has in months as he leads you out of the bar tucked away under his arm.

Just where he wants you to be. 

Just where you’re supposed to be.

We’re saying “Yes to the Ex!”

Thanks for reading! 

You can check my other stories here!

Tag List:

@gretagerwigsmuse​ @sehnsuchts-trunken​ @notroosterbradshaw​ @roosterforme​ @laracrofted​ @bradshawsbitch​ @starryeyedstories​ @top-hhun-main​ @itscheybaby​ @startrekfangirl2233​ @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun​ @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87​ @angelbabyange​ @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye​ @mizzzpink @cornishkat​ @torres-espana @uzumegui​ @dont-talk-me-down​ @fandomunite2107 @alana4610​ @20th-centu-fairy-girl​ @pariahsparadise​ @pono-pura-vida​ @donttouchmycarrots​ @nina-sj​ @eg-dr3amer3​ @whaledots-blog​ @a-beaverhausen​ @misty-inferno​ @angellwingsss​ @hangmanscoming​ @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook​ @lilpeekabooze​ @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry​ @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote​ @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft​ @mandolin22​ @imaginecrushes​ @soleilgrec​ @keyrani​ @chicomonks

[desert-fern]

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

Part 5: Flyboy On My Mind

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?

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

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death (it’s a training exercise, so not really), guns of the paintball variety, 'hostage taking' (Please let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 2.8k

For reference, 2100 is 9 pm to all of you who don't know or use 24 hour time.

Read on Wattpad or AO3

Masterlist >> Part 4 >> Part 6

===

Because Bear was nice, she gave her people the day to complete the intel searches and paperwork that was necessary for the mission. But she didn’t account for the Dagger pilots catching up to them and spending the next hour chatting and exchanging stories. “Bear, you good?” Bug asked, nudging her Commander in the side. 

“Hmmm? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” Bear said, checking her watch. “Just keeping an eye on the time. We have dark training tonight, so I hope that y’all get to your paperwork soon.” She shared a grin with her second, knowing full well how shitty late night dark training could get. 

“Aww come on Bear!” Hangman’s complaint rose above the din of the group. “Let them have some fun.” 

The woman just raised an eyebrow before replying. “Last time I checked, you pilots had paperwork too. Or did you forget?” There was a playful edge to her voice, one that teased yet still commanded. 

“We do, but Mav gave us the day to finish it,” Fanboy chimed in, peeking around Coyote to be seen and heard. 

“Mav also gave permission for you to help us in a few drills over the next few weeks. Ones that require your active participation.” 

A groan rose from the pilots, interweaving with the snickers from her Seals. It made her smile, watching her team get along with the pilots. And if she was being honest, the view wasn’t terrible. The sunlight glinted off of muscular, toned arms and shoulders, and if she was being honest, one pilot was set apart from the others. The light turned his blond hair into something resembling spun gold, green eyes hidden behind sunglasses that had slid down his nose. The man had a reason to be cocky, Bear thought as she stood and observed. But this was not the time, nor the place for that. “Team 3, say your goodbyes. We will see the pilots tonight, at 2100,” she spoke, eyes glinting in amusement behind her own sunglasses. 

Hangman maintained his eye contact with the Seal Team Commander. He’d caught her staring and shot her a wink in response. All the response he received came from a crooked smirk and the woman uncrossing her arms to usher her team away. “Damn…” he muttered as he followed her retreating figure. 

“Like what you see?” Coyote teased, clapping his friend on the back. “You might have a staring problem.” 

Jake huffed. “Can you blame me? Look at her.” 

Phoenix cleared her throat, making Jake freeze. “Really? This woman just handled a meeting like a fucking boss, has excellent control over her team, but is also extremely fair and is genuinely a decent person. And your dumbass is like ‘she’s hot’?” The woman in front of him shook her head in disappointment. “You’re lucky that I found my forever girl, otherwise you’d have some serious competition, Bagman.” 

Bear wasn’t quite out of earshot when Phoenix tore into Hangman, making her snicker. “Take them to the room we’re usually in, Bug. I have a flyboy to straighten out,” she remarked with a mischievous grin.

Her second mirrored the grin. “Sounds good, Bear. Be gentle with his ego.” 

Bear turned to walk back towards the group. “Whoever snagged you is a very lucky woman, Phoenix,” she said once she’d gotten close. 

“Shit…” Hangman exhaled, making Rooster laugh. 

“You're screwed, man,” the older man said with a chuckle. “Bear.” 

“Rooster, give me a moment with him?” 

Glancing at his friend, Rooster gave her a knowing smirk before walking off to rejoin his group, each of them stealing quick glances in her direction, amusement dancing in their eyes. 

“You know,” Bear began. “I don’t mind you looking, but I’ll be damned if my ass is my best quality.” She knew that the look on her face was teasing, but Jake still looked chastised. 

“Well then, Teddy. You should know that it isn’t just your ass,” Jake flirted back. But it was a lot less self-assured than usual. 

A smile crossed her lips. “Oh yeah? Like what?” 

“I don’t think we have enough time for that, sweetheart.” 

“Careful there, Jake. Can’t have someone overhearing you, especially since I outrank you and I’m in charge of our mission,” came her playful reply. But under her sunglasses, her cheeks and ears had flushed pink at his words. 

Jake’s face heated at her words. She never used his name, always his call sign or rank, so it felt like a step in the right direction. “Well you know where to find me when all is said and done.” With one final wink and appreciative glance, he turned and walked back to the group. Jake could feel her eyes burning holes between his shoulders, before she finally walked off. 

“Smooth bastard,” Bear mumbled as she followed after her team. “Making me feel things.” Her blush must have still been present when she walked into the room because a few chuckles sounded upon her entrance. 

“All good, boss lady?” FAK asked. They had a mischievous look in their eyes and from experience, Bear knew that that was just begging for teasing. “You’re looking a little pink there.” 

Bear shrugged. “It’s warm outside. What can I-” 

“You done eye-fucking the walking Ken doll?” Hazard spat, cutting her off. The man looked thoroughly put out by the whole situation. 

Her stare had him backing down pretty quickly. “Watch your tone, Lieutenant. I am your superior, so you would do well to get over whatever prejudice you hold around women in charge. And who I, as you said, eye-fuck is none of your business.” The edge in her tone left no room for argument and the air had quickly become suffocating as Hazard stalked back to his seat, glowering at the floor.

Hazard grumbled something about women and incompetence before Fireball reached over and slapped the back of his head. 

“Well then. That took a turn,” Bear remarked casually. “Finish up the forms, and Flare, send out that message to your contacts for that data, and you all can have the rest of the day to do whatever you need to. I need you back and dressed for night ops training at 2100, sound good?” 

“Yes Ma’am.” 

“Great. Get to work, I’ll be in my office if there are any questions or concerns.” With one final glance around the room, Bear left, shutting the door behind her. Walking down the hall, she had a chance to ponder Hangman’s words. You know where to find me echoed through her head, making her curse silently. That smooth fucker practically had her tripping over her own tongue whenever he was close. It was only thanks to the Bear personna that she had cultivated over her years in service that allowed her to flirt and tease back with minimal blushing. She sat down with a groan, burying her face in her hands as she thought about the mountain of papers to sift through. Guess there was no time like the present to get started. 

===

It was some time later that a knock sounded at her door. Glancing up from her papers, Bear checked her watch before calling out “Come in!” 

“Commander, I was hoping to go over a few things before night training tonight. Just so my people know what to expect,” Maverick said. 

“Of course, take a seat,” Bear gestured at one of the chairs by her desk. “What did you want to know?” 

Maverick nodded. “Just whatever you can tell me. I’ve had nonstop questions all afternoon and didn’t want to send them to harass you. All I said was that you would explain it to them tonight.” 

Bear chuckled “No worries at all, Maverick. It’s a hostage rescue scenario just to test the skills my people already have, basically a refresher course.” She gestured at the stack of folders on her desk before continuing “They will get more difficult as time goes on, but your pilots will likely be hostages or maybe poorly trained enemy forces, it really depends. If I decide on the latter, I will come and meet with your people and give them very basic weapons training.” 

“Are actual weapons being used for this?” 

“Oh god no. Sorry, I should have made that clear,” Bear replied hastily. “We basically have these retrofitted paintball guns that look like our service weapons to use in these exercises. The worst injury you can get from one of those is a gnarly bruise.” 

“Okay good. I was worried. I really don’t need Hangman or any of them really being weapons trained,” the pilot laughed. 

Bear gave him a grin. “That is a legitimate concern of mine too. I just won’t tell them that the skills are applicable to real weapons.” 

“Please don’t. Oh, and do they need to be in uniform?” 

“Nope, civilian clothes will work. Just make sure that they are comfortable and easy to move in.”

Maverick glanced around the office almost suspiciously before stage-whispering “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but thank fuck.”

She laughed. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” 

“I think we’re good to go,” came his response. “I will see you and your team at 2100.” 

“So you will. See you then.” 

He slipped out the door leaving her to the quiet office. It was nearing 1800 and she still hadn’t eaten, so she figured that taking a quick break wouldn’t hurt. 

Stretching as she stood, Bear grabbed her phone, wallet, and keys before leaving, locking the door behind her. The air was still warm when she ventured outside, the setting sun coloring the sky a beautiful orange that bathed the base in swaths of the color. 

The mess hall was quiet. Only a few stragglers remained on base, she noted. It took her no time to grab something to eat and she settled herself at the table in the far corner of the room. Bear hadn’t been there long before a loud clatter rang out, shattering the bubble of stillness she had been reveling in. 

Jolting up, Bear glanced over to watch a new recruit pick up the cutlery that had hit the ground. Willing her heart to slow its frantic beating, she went back to her food. 

Time slowly ticked by and eventually Bear realized that she had to get going, much to her chagrin. The peace had been nice, but she had a warehouse to arrange and equipment to locate. 

===

2100 came quickly. Night had fallen and only a little residual light cast a haze over the warehouse. Dressed in full tactical gear, Bear stood outside the large warehouse they used for indoor raids. Most of her team had arrived, all dressed identically to her in a deep dark blue gear, helmets tucked under arms as they stood and chatted. “Bear!” 

Turning towards the voice, she saw Bob and Flare leading the group of pilots over. They had all dressed in loose fitting, comfortable clothing, making it look like they were ready for bed. “Bob. Daggers. Welcome to your first night exercise,” she said with a grin. “You’re right on time, I was just about to start the explanation for tonight’s proceedings.” 

“Awesome. Glad we didn’t miss it,” Phoenix replied. She was excited for this, ready to see her friend in her element. “Been looking forward to this all day, haven’t we boys?” 

“Hell yeah.” 

“Totally.” 

“Damn straight.” 

“Great. Let’s get into it.” Bear clapped her hands and waited for the pilots to approach. “My people, same teams as last week. Platoons three and four are our hostage takers, the red team. Which makes everyone left to make up our blue team. Pilots, you guys have the honor of playing our hostages. Make sure you grab a vest before heading in there,” she told them, pointing at the pile of vests by her feet. “Hostages, hostage takers, head on in. Check your scenario, make sure you know how this plays out. Daggers, there are cards inside that have ages and certain characteristics that you need to remember. Once you have everything, fasten the card to the vest. I’ll be by in a second. Does that sound good to everyone?” 

“Yes Ma’am.” 

 “Red team, take your prisoners away,” Bear announced with a broad smile. Hangman had a stupid grin on his face, clearly loving the opportunity to get this close to Bear, seeing how she worked. 

Once the group had disappeared inside the building, Bear turned to the remaining platoons. “Alright. You know the drill. Bottom to top. Stick together. Two strategy attempts this round. No heroes, and no killing hostages. The goal here is to get everyone out alive, you know, the usual. I follow Bug’s lead. I know what has to happen, and therefore I make no calls, I follow what she has,” she informed them, glancing around at their faces. “You have until I come back to make a plan.” 

Bear pivoted on her heel and strode into the building, weaving through the maze set up inside to reach the open space on the topmost floor in the makeshift layout. “Flare! You ready?” 

“Hell yeah!” The woman yelled back, head poking out around the corner to watch her Commander approach. “You finally let me be the mean one, not Shrike.” 

“I did, so don’t abuse your power,” Bear laughed. Flare had always had a dramatic personality. It didn’t show much, but when given a role during the exercises, she always made it work. “Or else I’m giving it back to her.” 

Flare let out a feigned gasp. “You wouldn’t.” 

“Oh I would and you know it,” Bear retorted. “Is your team confident with your method?” 

“Yep. We got this.” 

“Great. Let me check in on the ‘hostages’,” Bear told her, throwing air quotes around the last word for emphasis. “Gotta make sure everything is all good on their end.” 

“No worries, boss lady. We tucked them through there,” Flare told her, pointing at the small opening in the corner of the room. 

“Maverick, you guys have yourselves sorted in there?” She called out. 

Silence. Then a small “maybe” sounded making her snort. 

“I’m coming in.” The sight made her laugh and turn away for a moment. All 13 of the pilots were crammed in the tight space, forcing Fanboy to be sprawled on top of his teammates. “Okay. I guess I thought some of you were smaller than you actually are.” 

“Yeah, there is definitely no room in here,” Rooster replied, gesturing with his head as his hands, which, like everyone else’s, were tied loosely in front of him. 

Bear hummed in amusement, crouching down to peer at them. “Before we get started, do you guys have any questions?” 

“Ummm yeah I have one. Why are we tied up?” It was too dark to make out the speaker, but it sounded like Payback. 

“Because you guys are playing your roles, and also you are not allowed to fight back. The bonds make sure of that,” Bear answered honestly. “It’s for your safety as well as ours.” 

Hangman, who was settled right next to the opening where Bear was crouching, spoke up. “You sure it isn’t just because you don’t want to get hurt?” He was looking at her face, but his gaze wandered down, down, down to her legs and how her tac pants were pulled taut across her muscular thighs. His eyes fell to her sidearm holstered to her leg, giving the impression and warning that she was far more dangerous than she appeared. If he wasn’t already turned on seeing Bear in her gear, the gun definitely did it. It finally made sense to him why women (and some men, let’s be honest) were all over the uniform, because if he looked even close to a fraction as hot as she did, it was a miracle any thought happened at all. 

“Watch the ego, Flyboy. Mouthing off might not be the best idea in this scenario. Flare gets to be mean, and she may or may not… react strongly,” Bear chided, but her face split into a grin. She caught his appreciative gaze, especially noting his fixation on her thighs and it made that small part of her brain start whooping and hollering at the fact that Jake had noticed her. 

Phoenix called out from the back of the room “What did the tactic thing on the back of the card mean?” 

“Oh, right. That’s the communication tactic that the rescue team needs to use in order to gain your trust and get you out safely. Some of them should say things like ‘proof of affiliation’, which just means proving who they say they are. Or they might say ‘female interaction only’, that one is self-explanatory. Does that clear it up?” 

“Yep.” 

“Great. I did forget to mention that you guys are allowed to talk quietly, and that live video of our movements will be played on the wall here for you guys to see. Was there anything else before we got started?” Bear asked one final time, standing up to lean against the entryway. “No? Awesome.” The woman gave them a wide smile, so very unlike the demeanor she used when first interacting with Hangman only days earlier. 

He was in for a real treat.

===

A/N: I decided to give you all a treat! Thanks again to @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s and @dakotakazansky for giving me your feedback!

Any errors are mine though 😂

Taglist: @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @dakotakazansky @horseshoegirl @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @lavenderbradshaw @bobby-r2d2-floyd @bradleybeachbabe @twsssmlmaa @roosterforme @footprintsinthesxnd @fandomxpreferences @dempy @gizmodear @fighterpilothoe @eli2447 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @djs8891 @rhirhikingston @sisterslytherinog @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @thegoddessc @sgt-barnesveins @taytaylala12 @urmom-999 @formulapierre @pinkpantheris

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Hell Bent, Heaven Sent

Summary: Truthfully, Jake didn’t like anything that she made him feel. Annoyed. Inferior. Submissive. But she also made his heart speed up and his palms sweat and despite everything, he felt better when she was with him. Natasha Trace made him question everything about himself.

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Natasha Trace (Hannix)

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Language, smut (oral, f receiving, and pv). Kind of a dom/sub dynamic with dom!Nat and a subby!Jake

Notes: Apparently, I write Hannix now. And I have to be honest...I'm not mad about it. This was so much fun. @greatszu submitted a request for my TGM Blurb Party with the following prompt: Hannix, Smut, Desk, "Fuck, harder," and the blurb ran way with me and became whatever this is, lol. I hope you like it, honey!

------

Jake knew if looks could kill, he’d be dead. He could feel Phoenix’s eyes burning into the back of his head and he didn’t have to turn to look at her to know she was glaring. 

He had pushed a little too far this time, and he knew it. Still, though, he wouldn’t apologize. Not until she did first. 

“Do I make myself clear?”

Mav had been lecturing the two of them for upwards of twenty minutes, though Jake had drowned him out after the first five. Still, he nodded his head, replying in the affirmative. He heard it echoed from where Phoenix was sitting behind him in the otherwise empty classroom. 

Giving the two of them a final look, Mav let out an impressive sigh before turning on his heel and leaving the room. The door slammed behind him and almost immediately, Phoenix was rising from her seat and stomping toward him. He cursed when her hand went to his hair, yanking his head back by the blonde strands. 

“What the fuck, Nix!” 

“Let’s get one thing straight, Bagman,” she hissed, and Jake felt a stirring in his khakis. “You are not better than me. And you will never, ever speak to me like that again.” 

Jake’s breathing picked up at her words, each one shooting through him like a spark. He hated the effect she had on him. 

He swallowed thickly, fighting to keep his voice snarky and even - defiant in the way he knew got under her skin. 

“Didn’t know you were so insecure, Tracey.” 

He knew the name would set her off, and he wasn’t disappointed. She tightened her grip in his hair, pulling his head further back. “I’m insecure? Funny, you were the one throwing a temper tantrum and bringing our personal life into the sky.” 

He gritted his teeth, unable to deny that she was right.  “You kissed him right in front of me.” 

“What, you’re allowed to mess around with other girls, but I can’t? You said you didn’t want to be exclusive. I’m just following what you wanted.” 

He doesn’t respond, his jaw aching from the effort of keeping his mouth shut. Phoenix scoffed from her position over him and he felt her release his hair, not bothering to be gentle; she never did, and he hated that he loved that about her. 

“I don’t have time for this. I’m already late,” she told him. He looked up just in time to see an almost cruel look pass over her features. “I have a date tonight. Maybe he will talk to me with a little more respect, or be interested in something serious. Unlike you.” 

Something that felt like devastation curled in his stomach. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and he didn’t like it. Truthfully, Jake didn’t like anything that she made him feel. Annoyed. Inferior. Submissive. But she also made his heart speed up and his palms sweat and despite everything, he felt better when she was with him. Natasha Trace made him question everything about himself. It was for that reason that after their first hook up, when she rocked his world, that he had said he didn’t want anything serious. He had been eating his words ever since. 

Phoenix was nearing the door now, and Jake knew he couldn’t let her leave. Not like this. 

“Please don’t go.” His voice was soft, barely audible, but it was loud enough that it caught her ears. She halted, whipping back around to look at him. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” 

The words, the truth about his feelings and his desperation for her, clawed at his throat. He wanted to confess everything to her, but he stuck with the basics for now. He would lay himself bare to her later, if she let him. “There hasn’t been anyone else. Not in a while.” 

Phoenix scoffed in disbelief, folding her arms over her chest. “I saw you buy some blonde of questionable age a drink last night.” 

Jake shrugged, tracing shapes into the desk in front of him. He can’t bring himself to meet her eyes in his vulnerability. “Wanted to make you jealous. Kind of backfired on me.” 

He doesn’t know if it’s because she can sense how he’s struggling with his feelings, or how hard he’s trying, or maybe she just knows he’s being sincere with his words, because Phoenix doesn’t say anything at first. She lets his words sit in the air and eventually, she walks back over to him. He doesn't look at her until she hooks her finger under his chin and forces his back. He fought back a groan. 

“Make me jealous, huh?” 

“Yeah,” he said. She looked like she was considering him. 

“You haven’t slept with anyone?” 

“No. Not in a while. I tried,” he admitted. He took a deep breath, gathering what courage he could muster. He let his hands go up to settle on her hips, tugging at her belt loops, grounding himself with the feel of her. “They weren’t as good as you. Not after what we did. I couldn’t…you’re better. I only want you, Nix.” 

If she read between the lines of what he was saying, she took mercy on him and didn’t say anything. Instead, she pushed her hands back into his hair. She stared at him for a long moment, so much so that Jake shifted in his seat, nervous and flustered under her intense gaze. There was a shift of tension in the air and Nat took a step back from him and back toward the door. He missed her presence and felt that emptiness immediately, but she surprised him when instead of opening it and leaving him alone, without her, she flipped the lock into place. She doesn’t meet his eyes again until she was leaning against the desk at the front of the classroom. She didn’t need to say a word; he’s on his feet and walking to her just by the way she looked at him.

He reached out to touch her but stopped when she held up a hand. 

“You want to prove yourself? That you only want me?” she asked.  He opened his mouth to respond but she cut him off with a single shake of her head and two words. 

“Show me.” 

Jake’s breath hitched. Nat didn’t stop him when he reached for her this time. He was quick and efficient in undoing her belt and the button and pulling down the zipper of her uniform pants. He groaned at the black lace panties he discovered when he pushed the khaki’s down her smooth, toned legs.  Without a second thought he was dropping to his knees right there in the empty classroom. 

He inhaled deeply as he pressed his face directly to her covered core. It had been over a week since she let him get this close to her and despite his best efforts, he had missed her. He kissed over her warmth, delighted that he could feel how damp the material was and that Nat wasn’t as unaffected by him as she presented herself to be. His mouth watered and he tugged on her underwear, pulling them down and letting them rest off to the side with her khakis and boots. He was nearly panting with how bad he wanted her. 

He moaned loudly as he got his first taste of her. The initial roll of her hips into his face only raised his excitement. Phoenix raised her leg until one was draped over his shoulder, opening herself up for him further. Jake licked at her folds, nearly frenzied by her taste and scent surrounding him. He nudged her clit with his nose as he fucks her with his tongue and delights in the way she keens, knowing that, right now, it’s just for him. 

“Good boy,” she praised. Jake only got harder from her words and it took all his willpower not to reach down and palm himself through his uniform, his cock aching for relief. 

Her wetness coated his face and he gripped her hips tighter, holding onto her so firmly that he knew she’d most likely be left with a physical reminder of this interaction. He twirled her clit around his tongue once, twice, three times before he wrapped his lips around it, humming in the way that he knew would have her falling apart. She squeezed her thighs around his head and he knew she was almost there. He was determined to bring her pleasure, his own nothing but a fragment of an afterthought in the back of his mind. He couldn’t get enough of her. He released her clit and kept running his tongue over her, lapping as much of her up as he could. He whined when Nat pulled his head back by his once impeccably styled blonde hair. 

“Take your pants off,” she instructed him, still slightly breathless from her release. 

He was trembling almost as much as she was when he climbed to his feet, fighting with his belt and zipper until he’s pushing them down his legs. They caught on his boot and he nearly tripped right into her as he tried to shake them loose. He blushed when she chuckled at his fumbling movements, but he can’t let himself get too embarrassed. He’s too eager to touch her again; too eager to be close to her. 

Nat turned to face away from him, the lower half of her body on full display as she leant against the desk and stuck her ass out invitingly. Jake knew better than to think her submissive display meant that she wasn’t still in charge. 

Sliding into her felt like both a gift and a privilege. His whole body shuddered with pleasure as he bottomed out, and he took a moment to revel in how amazing she felt around him. She didn’t let him get away with it for long before she was pushing back into him, telling him what she wanted. 

She was good at that. So good that he could do nothing but obey her. 

Phoenix, his Nix, was everything he didn’t think he wanted in a woman. She was loud and brash and she beat him at almost everything. She taunted him and pushed his buttons like no one else could and truly, it would be easier to hate her. But he didn’t, far from it. She unlocked feelings in him that he found himself craving, and in return, craving her. 

“Fuck,” she panted, throwing her head back and clutching at his hand that he had planted on the desk beside hers, “harder.”

“You want more?” he asked, adjusting his angle. 

“Yes. Give me more, Jake. Be a good boy for me and give me more.”

The words made him shiver, a whimper escaping from his throat. He pressed harder into her and sped up the thrusts of his hips.The sound of his skin slapping against hers as he gave into her demands echoed around them. 

“I’ll give you everything you want,” he promised her. “I’ll be so good for you, Nix.” 

Her pussy clenched tight around him and his hips stuttered as a whimper escaped. He grasped onto his self control as much as he could, desperate to keep from coming before she did. 

“Prove it,” she challenged, echoing her earlier words. Even without seeing her face, he knew she was smirking. “Make me cum, Jake. And then maybe I’ll consider you being all mine.”

-----

Masterlist

Notes: This was something. Let me know your thoughts :)

[tgmsunmontue]

Life is too short to waste time matching socks... (2/?)

Hangster and Bob/Javy/Nat - set post mission with the Dagger Squad having been made a permanent squad.

PART ONE

                “Are our friends hooking up?” Bradley asks, frowning at the message on his phone.

                “Who? Javy and Phoenix?”

                Interesting. He had meant Natasha and Bob, but it makes sense that maybe Hangman just jumps to assuming his best friend is the one dating Natasha. They’re at the restaurant where Natasha had insisted on meeting, something she had wanted to tell them apparently and now she’s not going to get here until much later, if at all.

                “No. Well, yes, But I mean Nat, Bob and Coyote… the three of them.”

                “Huh. You know, you may be onto something. They’ve been looking incredibly suspicious every time I walk into the room, springing apart like they’ve been doing or saying something they don’t want me to overhear.”

                “Yeah, same. Think we need to let them know we’re okay with the three of them being together?”

                “Well, maybe they’re still trying to figure things out?”

                “Huh. True. Not yet ready to tell us maybe?”

                “Or they’re just having fun and it’s not serious?”

                “Not serious? Are we talking about the same people?”

                “Yeah, you’ve got a point. Maybe they don’t think we’d understand?”

                Bradley frowns, because he hopes not. Not that he’s ever been in a polyamorous relationship, if that’s what that three of them are currently figuring out. He gets not wanting other people to meddle or provide a running commentary, but he is a little hurt that she hasn’t mentioned anything to him. He glances at the messages on his phone again.

                Received forty minutes ago.

>>Sorry, running late! Be there soon. Go ahead and order without me.

                Received twenty minutes ago.

>>Okay – just got a call. Let me see if I can deal with these two without going over there in person.

                Received five minutes ago.

>>Sorry but I’ve got to leave you there. Javy and I need to talk with Bob about some stuff. Hopefully get it sorted and maybe still get there for dessert.

                He slides it across to Hangman, offering him to read it, because if they’re going to try and figure this out they both need all of the information at hand.

                “That is… That has to be the three of them having a serious conversation right? I know Javy hooked up with Phoenix years ago.”

                “Really? Because she hooked up with Bob not that long ago.”

                “Go Phoenix… I wonder if Javy knows that.”

                “Surely right? If the three of them are having a serious conversation? Like, serious enough to not be able to leave it to another time. Leaving us unsupervised. Pretty risky move otherwise…” Bradley says, lips twitching with amusement, because their arguing is nowhere near as antagonistic as it used to be. Now it’s got a far more friendly edge, playful almost and if he didn’t know better he’d say it was sometimes flirty. But that’s just wishful thinking.

                He sends a quick message saying that they’re ordering dessert and that he hopes she can sort whatever it is out with Coyote and Bob, and he’s insanely curious, but knows better to ask through a text, because she’ll either outright lie or deflect. He needs to ask her in person where he can watch her micro expressions.

                They both can’t decide between the same two desserts before sheepishly realizing that they can share and place their order, the topic of conversation now firmly circling what they think Coyote, Nat and Bob are up to. He convinces Hangman to send a couple of messages to Coyote to do some delicate fishing for information and realizes that they might need to meet up again to discuss their theories. He doesn’t say anything though, doesn’t want to risk the potential rejection even if he’s not got any intention other than friendship. Mostly.

                They finish up their desserts, eating off each other’s plates easily enough and he hates how much it feels like a date, how much he wants it to be a date. His phone vibrates with another message from Natasha, saying she’s definitely not going to make it and well, it’s far too late for her to join them anyway. The split the bill and walk towards where they’ve both left their cars.

                “Well Rooster, I enjoyed this. We should do it again some time.”

                “How about we do lunch in a week or so? Compare notes? See if we can figure them out?”

                Something in Hangman’s expression changes but is gone before he can figure it out.

                “Sounds good. Have a good night.”

…            …            …

                Javy looks at his phone, a little confused at the stream of messages but able to pick out the general gist of what Jake is trying to say.

                “Okay, that was a bust. Well, they didn’t kill each other, but Jake seems to think Rooster is very uninterested in dating him. Are you sure he likes him? He suggested a date and Rooster turned it into work talk apparently… Told you a dinner date was going to be too subtle for our idiots.”

                “You said no such thing. Anyway, locking them in a room, either a pretend one,” Natasha says, looking at Bob, “or a real one, isn’t going to work either. They need to fucking talk.”

                “They need to uh, fuck, and then talk,” Bob states and Javy concedes that he may have a point. They’re both men of action rather than conversation, although he really thinks they need to use their words. Constructively.

                “We can’t force them to talk,” Javy says, rubbing at his face, because they also can’t make them fuck either. He stretches out his neck, the tension from having to deal with Jake being ridiculous starting to get to him. He barely notices as Bob moves behind him and starts massaging his shoulders, just lets his body slump a little.

                “I’m sorry, but I totally forced them to just spend three hours together, talking and enjoying a meal together. And if you’re giving out massages I want one please.”

                “Sure,” Bob agrees and he doesn’t think he’s ever heard Bob say no to her.

                “Yeah, you did really well with the dinner thing, but…”

                Then there’s a key in his door, it’s opening and Jake is standing there, his face going from sad to surprised and he wonders what sort of picture they make, Phoenix sitting beside him but with Bob behind him massaging his shoulders. God, it’s not like anyone is naked. Jake has seen him in far more embarrassing and compromising situations than talking with two friends, but judging from the look on his face he clearly thinks he’s snapped Javy doing something illicit and he raises an eyebrow.

                “What?”

                “Uh… Javy! Hi. Phoenix. Bob. Hmm. I should have known you’d all be here. Sorry. I’ll leave you to it. Ignore me. I was never here.”

                “What the hell was that about?”

                “I have no idea…”

[bradshawsbaby]

Friends With Benefits

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Natasha “Phoenix” Trace

Author’s Note: I would recommend reading My Favorite Mistake before reading this one!

These two are so fun to write about. Their dynamic is different than what I’m usually used to writing, which has been interesting! This one goes out to all the Hangman x Phoenix shippers sliding into my ask box--I see you!

Warnings: Language, mentions of casual sex (nothing explicit), a teensy bit of angst towards the end.

- It was Hangman’s idea, this little arrangement of theirs.

- “Come on, Trace, didn’t have you pegged for a prude,” had been the words he’d used to set her blood boiling and get her to agree to this ridiculous plan.

- Hungover and sore, though neither of them would ever admit it, they hadn’t even been able to look at each other the morning after their unexpected rendezvous.

- The rest of the team had tactfully avoided saying anything, though they would’ve had to be blind to miss the tension that was practically palpitating between the two pilots.

- Phoenix would have gladly avoided Hangman for the rest of her days, but she had only made it to lunch when he managed to corner her outside the mess hall, that damn smirk plastered across a face more handsome than it had any right to be.

- “Cute hickie you got there, Phoenix,” Hangman grinned, pointing at the small bruise on her neck, which she had smothered in foundation that morning. Leaning closer, he whispered in her ear, “Make-up only does so much.”

- “Get out of my way, dickhead,” Phoenix said, rolling her eyes and trying to push past him.

- “Hmm, that’s not what you were saying last night,” Hangman replied, laughing when she whirled back around with a look of horror etched across her face.

- “Are you crazy? Shut up!” she hissed, grabbing his arm and dragging him into a more secluded corner. “Last night was…”

- “The greatest night of your life?” Hangman suggested with a smirk.

- “A mistake,” Phoenix snapped, trying not to read too much into the involuntary flash of hurt that passed over his face for approximately one millisecond before disappearing once more. “It was stupid. We shouldn’t have done it. Can we just put it behind us?”

- “Hmm, but I rather like the opportunity we have in front of us,” Hangman shot back, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

- “What are you talking about?” Phoenix demanded, barely able to keep the thinly veiled annoyance out of her voice as she crossed her arms over her chest.

- “I’ll give it to you, Phoenix, that you know how to work your way around the bedroom,” Hangman smirked, privately enjoying the way she cleared her throat and shifted slightly in place. “And I know I do. I think we can both admit that last night was a pretty mutually beneficial affair,” he grinned, pulling a toothpick out of his pocket and holding it firmly between his teeth.

- “What the hell is your point, Bagman?” Phoenix growled in frustration, fighting the urge to rip that toothpick out of his mouth and snap it in half.

- “My point, Natasha,” he drawled with a wink, smirking down at her, “is that we could continue this little arrangement we’ve got going. A little mutual pleasure every now and then, a way to blow off steam. No one needs to know.”

- “What, like fuck buddies?” Phoenix asked, raising a skeptical brow.

- “There goes that mouth again,” Hangman shook his head, trying to push the thoughts out of his own mind of what that mouth was capable of. “Let’s call it friends with benefits, shall we?”

- Phoenix hesitated, staring up at him with an unreadable expression. “I don’t—”

- “Come on, Trace, didn’t have you pegged for a prude,” Hangman grinned wickedly, the toothpick wedged between his teeth once more.

- “You’re a dick,” Phoenix muttered, blood boiling. Much as she hated to admit it, though, last night had been good. Really good. Who would it hurt if they messed around a little bit in their free time? “Fine, you’ve got a deal.”

- And that was how Phoenix and Hangman became friends with benefits, as Hangman would say, or fuck buddies, in the words of Phoenix.

- They kept the relationship, whatever it was, completely hidden from everyone.

- As far as they were concerned, no one knew about the quickies in the supply closet or at the gym. No one was aware of the way Phoenix would sneak back over to Hangman’s place after a night out with the guys, the two of them often going at it until the sun came up.

- They rocked each other’s worlds on an almost nightly basis, though neither of them would ever admit out loud how much they enjoyed it, how it was the best sex either of them had ever had.

- Phoenix never stayed the night. Once they were done, she’d always slip away, pulling her clothes back on and calling an Uber to drive her home.

- Hangman tried to tell himself that it didn’t bother him, that he preferred sleeping alone in his bed at night.

- “You don’t always have to run off, you know,” he would tell her sometimes, holding onto her arm as she slid out of his bed.

- She would just smirk in that way of hers and press a kiss to his lips. Her kisses were always softest when she was saying goodbye. “Good night, Hangman.” And then she was gone.

- The longer it went on, the more blurred the lines between them became.

- Hangman told himself that the concern he felt when Phoenix was practicing a particularly dangerous maneuver or flying a mission was the same concern he’d feel for any friend and fellow pilot. Coyote, for example. Yeah, exactly like that.

- Phoenix told herself that it didn’t bother her when Hangman flirted with other women at the bar, when girls practically draped themselves across his lap while they were out. He didn’t belong to her. He could do whatever he wanted.

- There was no reason to feel the way that they did, they both argued with themselves. They were just friends with benefits, after all.

[heygerald]

OLD HABITS DIE HARD - Part 3/8

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x oc

Hangman is utterly and completely full of shit, and Zoe is just about crossing into the territory of having zero shits left to give. When he starts trouble, she struggles to remind herself why she had ever cared about him in the first place.

Catch up here: part 1 / part 2 / ... / *bonus chapter* / part 4 / part 5 / *bonus chapter* /  part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / *say yes*

Top Gun was a fucking mess. 

Egos. Rivalries. Big heads and even bigger jets; a mission that had set everyone on edge with a teacher that didn’t exactly know how to teach as much as he knew how to smirk and smile and poke fun at the aviators. 

Really, Zoe was more surprised that it took this long before a fight broke out.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Rooster had asked, voice rough and gravel and threatening. She had eyed him nervously, gaze leaching over her friend as she tried to figure out just exactly how angry he was. 

But then Hangman had opened his big fucking mouth and when Rooster lunged at him, the entire room got an idea of just how angry he was. 

Furious, more like it. 

And everything went to shit around them.

Rooster was out of his seat before Zoe could even blink, lunging across the room so quickly that she swore he teleported there. Surprise had lanced across Hangman’s face for a moment, but by the time that Rooster had his collar fisted in hand, he had already slung that familiar, smarmy smirk onto his face. Clearly, he enjoyed the reaction he got out of Rooster, and Rooster, clearly, didn’t enjoy being someone else’s entertainment much at all.

“What the fuck did you say?!?”

Zoe wasn’t very big. Hell, the only person smaller than her was Phoenix and, maybe Bob on a particularly skinny day, but she was still strong enough to shove herself between the pair. She got an arm on Rooster and pushed at the same time that Maverick leveraged himself against Hangman’s chest with a glare.

“That’s enough!” he shouted, leaving very little room for arguing. Zoe would have dared a surprised glance at their Captain, standing at a stocky five-foot seven if she wasn’t so busy trying to keep Rooster from slugging someone. She wasn’t sure who he would rather hit right then; Hangman or Maverick, but she knew both would be a bad fucking idea. “Cut it out.” 

“I was just—” 

“I don’t care what you were doing,” Maverick shoved Hangman with another, icier glare. For someone that smiled a whole lot, he seemed to have mastered the snarl fairly well. “Everybody get out. You’re dismissed for the day.” 

No one moved at first. 

“Out!” Maverick barked. 

The room dispersed after that. Slowly at first, then quick. 

Rooster was the first to go, misery nipping hot at his heels prompting him to flee before he did—or said—something that he wouldn’t be able to take back. Phoenix shared a long, hard look with Buzzard. Both of them had known the truth behind Bradley’s past; the truth that Hangman had so dickishly brought to light just to get a leg up. And though Zoe had known longer, had known more, she doubted that Rooster would want anything to do with someone that had actually cared about Hangman at one point in her life. 

Even if it had left her broken for the effort. 

So, Buzzard waved her off with a sigh. 

Phoenix disappeared after Rooster as the others started to amble out on their own. Coyote, Payback, and Fanboy drifted towards the barracks. Bob and Stitch headed for the showers. Yale and Harvard made a comment about the beach as they vanished on the tarmac. 

Maverick stayed behind, head in the clouds. He blinked at Buzzard when he noticed she was still standing in the empty room. 

“You’re dismissed, Buzz. Go home. Get some rest.” 

“It’s the middle of the day, sir.” 

He shook his head at her, mouth tight in an uncharacteristic frown as he turned back to stare out the window. “Then go get a drink. Or go for a run. Just don’t stick around here any longer.”

She hesitated. There wasn’t anything she particularly wanted to say to him, but leaving felt just as weird. 

Mav, noticing her hesitation, sighed tiredly. “Seriously, Buzzard. Get out. Maybe help Bradley get his head set straight for the exercises tomorrow.” 

Zoe relented at that, nodded, swept her gaze over his weary face once more, before making her leave without so much as a goodbye. Her head felt heavy as she exited the room; thoughts in the clouds maybe just as much as Maverick’s had been. The hallway was empty as she walked. She hadn’t realized she had stuck around in a stupor for as long as she had, but she didn’t bemoan the quiet. Just loosened her bun at the nape of her neck before making way for the parking lot.

“There you are,” someone sighed, almost annoyed at how long she had taken to get her head on straight. Immediately, Zoe tensed, eyes darting to where Hangman had just stepped out of the bathroom, looking all too happy for someone who had just gotten the entire class dismissed early due to his attitude. “You want to get some food?”

She scoffed and walked right on by.

“Buzz?”

“Piss off, Hangman.” 

“What?” he asked, as if he didn’t know. She just continued on, ignoring him. Succeeded too as he chased her down the hallway. Until, “Zoe?” 

Real names. 

No call signs to hide behind or codenames to make things easier. Real names that were rarely used unless things were serious. She supposed this was, as she halted to a stop in the lobby, but she was surprised that he had thought so too. His hair flopped on his head when he reached her. 

“What do you want?”

“What?” he scowled. “You’re not talking to me now or something? Just because I made your boyfriend a little upset?”

Anger was quick and hot as it laced up her throat. 

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Seriously? C’mon, Buzz, someone had to say it,” he crossed his arms; immediately sliding into a defensive position as he squinted at the far wall. It was a familiar avoidance tactic of his, avoiding her knowing gaze until he felt like he had something worthy of saying that would effectively shut her up or wear her down. “The kid has an ego and he’s going to get someone hurt if he can’t figure that out. You seriously trust someone like that up in the sky?”

“Rooster has never abandoned me once,” she snarled. “So, yeah, Bagman. I trust him a whole lot more than I would ever trust you. Especially after that stunt you just pulled.” 

His mouth tightened, eyes flinching as if she had hit him.

Good, she thought, let him suffer for once.

“I get that you’re friends or whatever,” he started, almost sounding shy, “but—” 

“There’s no but here, Seresin. Even if I wasn’t his friend, I would still trust him more than I trust someone like you.” 

He swallowed hard. “Someone like me?” he repeated, slowly, with a look on his face as if he had just tasted something undesirable. 

“It’s like I said,” she told him, unimpressed, and furious. “You haven’t changed at all. You still take the cheap shots just to get an extra point on the scoreboard.” 

He winced, pursing his lips while glancing away. “This is different.” 

She scoffed. “Is it? Because from what I can see, this is just you finding something personal to throw in his face so that you come out on top. Again. Not all that different from before.” 

Hangman glanced away, toothpick in the corner of his mouth, eyes drawn. 

And for some reason that made her so goddamn angry. 

“Fuck this,” she said, pushing off the heel of her too-shiny boots to march outside. She wasn’t even sure where she wanted to go; didn’t feel like sleeping or a beer or being around people. She just knew that she didn’t want to be around him. 

His boots clattered across the tarmac after her. “So that’s it? You’re just gonna storm off and make me feel like shit? Real mature.” 

Mature? Fuck him.

Zoe swung around on her toes so quickly that Hangman collided with her chest. He let out a grunt of surprise before a grunt of pain when she shoved her finger hard enough into his chest that it would certainly leave a bruise. 

Chiseled or not, she could spit fire when provoked.

“You should feel like shit. For once in your fucking life, you should feel like fucking shit, Seresin, because that,” she gestured vaguely to the building behind them, only half wondering if Maverick was getting a good view of her berating Hangman before deciding she really didn’t care. “That bullshit was way below the belt and you know it.”

“I—” 

“Shut up, I’m not done,” she poked him again, only continuing when he fell stiff and silent under her stare. “His dad fucking died during Top Gun, in the same jet as our Captain. And yet he still passed through the academy, still earned his wings just like you and I did, and still made it back for this. Rooster is a good fucking pilot and you throwing trauma in his face is nothing but a lame attempt to make yourself look better.” 

He glanced away, the toothpick now still in his mouth, and she caught the flicker of something across his hardened features. 

Guilt? Regret? Annoyance? 

She didn’t know. She really didn’t care for once, either. 

“I was just trying to…” he paused, almost seeming contemplative as he thought about what he was going to say. Maybe because he didn’t have a valid excuse. Or maybe because he wasn’t familiar with being scolded and didn’t like how it dried his throat. Shaking his head, he said, “he shouldn’t be flying this mission if he can’t handle the trauma. Alright? That’s the fact of the matter.” 

Zoe squared her chin at him. “Then why not bring me up?”

His gaze swept from a spot on the distant horizon to stare down at her in confusion. “What?”

“You know my story. The only girl in the family, always trying to impress her parents who couldn’t care less about what I do; two brothers that were pilots before me. You could have thrown my story out to the others just as easily as you did with Rooster.” 

He clenched his jaw. “That’s different.” 

“How? Tony’s dead. Died in an accident over the Pacific Ocean. Andrew retired from flying because it was too much for him to handle seeing as how Tony left behind a family; wife and kids. Mom won’t even talk to me anymore because she keeps expecting that I’ll go down one day too and she doesn’t think she can handle it. That’s my trauma, shit that I deal with every time I climb into the cockpit, knowing that my family won’t talk to me because I’m doing something that they all did first. They just don’t think I’m good enough to manage it without  making some big mistake. If you’re gonna hassle Rooster for not owning up to his, then next time you sure as fuck better hassle me too.” 

She watched something flicker in his eyes. Hurt. She knew it this time. 

“I wouldn’t…” he tousled the toothpick in his mouth before softening his voice. She wondered if it was intentional or not. “You know that I wouldn’t do that to you, Zoe.” 

She blinked up at him, scowling as she did so. 

“Hm,” she smarted. “Because you think I’m a worse pilot than him or because you didn’t care enough to remember that about someone that you used to fuck?”

He flinched at the crude way she described what they used to be. 

But why shouldn’t she say it like that? That was the way he used to say it, afterall. When their training was coming to an end and they were huddled in bed together wondering about what sort of assignment they would manage; her mind drifting to the future while he was steadfast in the present. 

“What are we gonna do?” she had asked. “About us, I mean.” 

Hangman just froze on the edge of the bed, back to her, squinting at the door with something dark in his eyes that she had never been able to place. 

“What do you mean, us?” he crooked a grin. Patting her leg with warm hands, his voice was even but a little bit strained as he shrugged. “We’ll just stop fucking, Preston. It’s not like there was anything else to it than that. Right?” 

And then he let himself out of her room. No glance back, no apologies, no wishes or wants or shared dreams. The only thing he had given her was a brief moment of hesitation with his hand on the doorknob before he was slipping out of her room and her life, leaving a shattered woman in his wake wondering how she had misinterpreted weeks of honest truths and shy moments and them so poorly.

“Well?” she pushed. “Which is it?”

He didn’t have an answer. She hadn’t really expected one. 

Zoe took that as all the information she needed to realize that this was not worth it; this was never worth it if he couldn’t put aside the competition for a single second to realize the people he flew with were human beings beneath it all. 

“You’re the best pilot here, Jake. You were the best pilot at Top Gun too. Maybe for once in your life you should let your flying prove that and stop trying to stab everyone in the back.” 

His frown deepened, his eyes shimmered. 

She didn’t care. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t, maybe. 

So when he remained silent she just shook her head with a scoff, before heading off towards her car. She didn’t have any destination in mind; hadn’t the slightest idea where Rooster might be. Didn’t want to listen to Stitch’s lectures or Bob’s heartwarming Southern manners or Phoenix’s attempts to make her feel better all the while wearing that stupid “I told you so” look. 

So, Zoe just did what she had spent years practicing but always failing at. 

She left Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin in her rearview mirror.

* taglist (thanks for asking!) @luckyladycreator2 

[guardian-of-time-if]

Snippet #2

Here is the second snippet of the week. Happy Valentine's everyone.

Just the smell made my stomach lurch, but I forced myself to push the spoon in my mouth with a straight face. Once the ashy substance that called itself food was in my mouth, I had to force it down my throat without gagging. I pull a nearby cloth to my mouth to him the grimace I’m unable to contain. 

Beside me, Albien places a gentle hand on my knee as he leans in closer. “You don’t have to eat it. I know it’s terrible.”

“I just,” I start, but stop and lean in closer. “Why is it on fire? And why is the fire green?”

“It is a very disconcerting color isn’t it?” he agrees, not really answering my question. 

“Ah, Lady MC,” the voice of our visitor calls my attention. “Is this your first time having your meal roasted in phoenix fire? My cousin tells me you grew up in the Silver Empire, so it wouldn’t surprise me if some of our culture is still foreign to you.”

“Loixa,” Albien cut off using the same tone a parent might use to publicly correct a child. “It’s impolite to emphasize a guest's foreignness during dinner.”

“It’s just us, Cousin. No need to be cross.”

I pat Albien on the arm. “It’s alright. I don’t mind. It is my first time, yes.”

Loxia nods. “If you’re going to keep spending time in Erhdolyss, it would be wise to learn our customs.”

Albien sighs at the passive aggressive tone Loxia uses to address me, but doesn’t say anything else about her behavior. Instead he asks about her children which manages to get her in a much happier mood. I try to eat a little more of the food throughout the dinner, but it’s hard to balance with my stomach screaming in protest with each bite. I feel better when I glance at Albien and realize that he hasn’t eaten much either.  Eventually, Loxia decides she’s done with dinner and leaves. 

As Albien and I leave the dining room, I start to think of some of the snacks I have smuggled in my room that I can use to make up for such an awful dinner. When I go to turn down the hall to my room, Albien pulls gently on my arm. 

“I had an inkling she would ask for that meal, so I had the cook make us something else and set it up in the garden. I would appreciate it if you would let me make it to you by offering a better meal.”

A warmth swells in my chest at his kindness, and the gentle smile he gives me. “I would love to.”

His smile is even brighter now, making his hazel eyes seem to glow. He gestures the way to the garden with the hand that’s not holding my arm, and we start to walk that way. As we walk he lets go of my arm, and snakes his around my waist. I lean into his side, and he lets out a pleased hum. 

When we arrive in the garden I see a small two person table set up with two plates of food, and a candle in the center. Albien pulls one of the chairs out for me, and I sit down, noticing that the candle doesn’t have a pool of melted wax near the wick, and the plates still have steam floating off of them. I breath in the wonderful aroma even as I look at Albien in confusion. 

“How did you time this?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He asks with a teasing smile in a rare moment of levity. “I didn’t really do anything. I have an exceptional staff that treat me far better than I deserve.”

I reach across the table and grab his hand. “And now I know you sure, I’m not in the Empire anymore. No one there would ever be concerned about a servant.”

“I think it's more about the individual than the place, but I thank you nonetheless. Now, you should try this before it gets cold. This is a true Erdholian specialty.”

“Not the green fire?” I ask with laugh as I take a bite. 

“That’s not an Erdholyss thing I promise. It's only done by the regional elites, but my mother was one, so Loxia always likes to make fun of my low tolerance for it.”

We share another smile, and I start to eat faster upon realizing that this might be the best meal I’ve ever had. “What is this anyway?”

Albien’s face twists. “Trust me. It tastes better when you don’t know.”

“Really?” I ask. “Now I have to know.”

“You have some sauce on your lip,” he points out.

“Don’t change the subject,” I object.

Instead of answering, he leans forward and kisses me softly on the edge of lips, in the general area he’d pointed out I had sauce. I feel my face heat up, but I let him. His hand slides over my cheek to keep my face in the right spot. When he pulls away he doesn’t go all the way, he stops at my ear and whispers something that seems random until I glance down at my plate and realize he’d finally answered my question.

“Are you serious?” I ask in shock. 

“I told you you didn’t want to know.”

[parasite-core]

hey! this is chance & here’s the prompt for week 6. what are your oc's bedrooms like? messy? neat? carefully designed? or a collection of their favorite things? you can verbally describe or use photos, whatever you think is best.

Hi Chance! Thanks as always for the fun prompt 😊

I especially like this one because I do think about what a lot of my OCs bedrooms look like but I rarely get to talk about it~

Roland: he created his room personalized when he made his demiplane, the Shining Cathedral, so his room very much reflects his tastes. There’s a large stained glass window of a rising phoenix that opens out to a balcony, a four poster bed with delicate light blue fabric draped from it. The ceiling has a mosaic of another phoenix, set flying against a brilliant sun. He has a desk covered primarily in books and paperwork generally, and a small silver wyvern figurine he picked up in a dragon’s lair during his adventures.

Sai: only recently got a room of her own in Korvosa so she hasn’t had a chance to really personalize it yet. She has a few ragged stuffed animals and dolls she’s picked up during her adventures and patched up, a simple bed, and some animal pelts.

Kiyo: much like Sai their room in the shared home in Korvosa is not very personalized yet. They generally share Lalaith’s room, and keep a few easy to transport alchemical tools there. Their actual home looks a bit like a hoarder’s den due to their century living there and just naturally accumulating things. There’s just a general sense of clutter, at least in the upstairs rooms, they keep the downstairs better maintained as that’s where patients typically are treated. Their bedroom is a bit like Howl’s from Howl’s Moving Castle, just miscellaneous stuff collected from over the years everywhere. Lalaith has determined she is going to help them declutter.

Calio: his room in the Dancing Hut was created to his preferences, so it’s gothic styled with high vaulted ceilings and lit by sconces along the walls that are stylized coming out of skulls. There are large windows covered by thick black drapes which overlook a snowy landscape outside (all illusory since they’re in the Dancing Hut). His bed is extremely large (*specifically* large enough for a winter wolf in their wolf form to fit comfortably with a human also on the bed), it’s a four poster with silky black sheets and an excessive number of black and red pillows. On the wall behind the bed is a large painting of an icy landscape with a full moon and an aurora across the sky. He has a book shelf with reading material and a few trinkets. Most importantly, in the mouth of a skull on one of the shelves is a button that makes the bookshelf open, revealing his hidden alters to Norgorber and Urgathoa.

In Grimm Labyrinthus Calio’s room is nearly identical to his room in the Dancing Hut, except the windows all reveal a landscape from different places Calio has been on his journeys: overlooking Rasputin’s prison camp in Russia with the spectral cathedral finally bound to the material plane, a dark icy landscape with a fortress in the distance that Dragonkin swoop in and out of on Triaxus, the bone covered gateway to Whitethrone where he first met Greta, a clearing in Taldor with a portal looming ahead spewing Irriseni winter cold all around.

Draven: she lived in barracks for the last year so she didn’t have the luxury of decorating, and she had to keep her quarters up to a certain standard. Since retiring with Leto and building their own home together, she’s had to figure out what she likes after years of just focusing on being Iomedae’s sword and shield and little else. She keeps some house plants in their room to brighten things up, although she is not very good at keeping them alive. She and Leto both keep their personal weapons and armor stored close at hand—just incase. Their bed is simple, just a regular bed large enough for both of them, nothing fancy, not a four poster or anything like that. Not that they didn’t at least consider a four poster bed, but Draven might have pointed out she’d probably break the posts during *certain* activities given her let’s say above average strength. Leto has a number of figurines on display—Draven thinks they’re cute (and that Leto’s cute when he gets all info dumpy about them). They also have at least one cat, and have little ledges/shelves built for the cat to jump up onto at various points around the walls.

[ohhgingersnaps]

WDSTF asks: id love to ask the superheroes how they started making their superhero identity and getting their name out there. esp nonny lolll did he just start sending predictions and ppl took him seriously when they notjced they were coming true?

and for the lovebirds (avaseb and abileah) ur fav feature of ur s/o :3

(WDSTF Asks)

[A/N: This got kind of long so I'll be putting everything past the first three entries under a cut!]

how did they start making their superhero identity and getting their name out there?

Ava (Phoenix)

“Dee and I moved to the city right after we graduated college. We both knew we wanted to try dabbling in the whole hero thing, so we formed our own little two-person team. We helped each other pick out aliases.” She laughs. “The first version of my suit was just a bunch of mismatched red athletic wear and a cheap masquerade mask. The leggings were about as durable as tissue paper, and I had, like, this awful cutaway tank with zero arm protection, because I didn’t want to risk setting myself on fire.

“It started as more of a hobby than anything else. We’d do small jobs here or there when we had time, but nothing substantial, until we ended up collaborating with a larger team on one of the bigger supervillain take-downs a year or two in.

“After that, things sort of… Escalated?” She shrugs and waves a hand. “Like, it’s not like nobody knew who we were before then, but we started getting invitations. Other teams started asking if we’d help out with heists or join them on patrols. We got invited to galas and parties. One of our contacts hooked us up with proper, custom-made suits.

“It was great, but also, people started to expect things, you know? It turned to into less of a thing we did for fun on weekends and more of an obligation.”

Sebastian (Memento)

“I wanted to try my hand at grey-hat hacking— just to see if I could do it, because I was getting bored with my regular projects, and it was for a good cause, right? I put out an ad as a hero-aligned merc, but the only person who contacted me was Gladiolus.” He grimaces. “He wanted me to help him with a mission for free, because, and I quote, ‘It will be good exposure.’

“Anyway, I helped him break into a supervillain lair. It went… ‘Badly’ isn’t the right word, and of course Phoenix and I were on better terms by the end of it, but…” The corners of his mouth quirk upwards, and he lets out a little huff of air that might be a laugh. “There are a lot of good ways to meet your celebrity crush. Trapping her in a hallway because she interrupted an opposing hero team’s heist is not one of them.”

Shane (Anonymous Friend)

“I ignored my powers for as long as I could,” Shane says, running a hand across his jaw. “But then I got a premonition about something big, with a lot of collateral damage, and I guess I figured, hey, I’ve got some useful intel. It would be stupid to not to try and help, right?

“So I grabbed a magazine from the recycling and some scissors, and I cut out a bunch of letters. I got the idea from a TV crime serial, or something stupid like that. Anyway, I sent warnings out to most of the major hero teams. Signed it as ‘Anonymous Friend,’ which was meant to be reassuring, but in hindsight, was probably super creepy.

“Only one team took my little arts-and-crafts warnings seriously, but they ended up saving a lot of people. Enough that when I sent out another round of notes, the other teams actually listened.

“I didn’t expect anyone to give me credit, let alone speculate about my identity. Folks actually thought I was an evil henchperson or lower-profile villain who’d done a heel-face-turn, for a while— must’ve put the villains on edge for a bit, hah— but it doesn’t really matter what they thought I was. Good guy, bad guy…” He shrugs. “Whatever. The important part was that fewer people got hurt.”

Harvey (Doc)

“As a healer, I ended up taking a slightly different route than most new heroes. I would just carry around a mask and wait until a fight started nearby, and then rush to help anyone who needed medical assistance. Of course, I picked out my own alias, Eubiostagenic, based on Greek medical terms— “eu” (good), “bios” (life), “sta” (stability), and “genic” (producing or causing)… Took me about a week to settle on it, back in pre-med.” His moustache twitches in what might be amusement. “Of course, everyone ended up just calling me Doc.”

Leah (Morning Glory)

“I didn’t even know I had powers until I started taking my botany classes. And once Kel found out… It’s not like I didn’t have a choice in becoming Morning Glory, but…” She frowns, her mouth pressed into a thin line. “I tried to at least stick to hero-aligned merc jobs, but Kel wasn’t always exactly up-front with me about what type of job we were doing. Sometimes, mitigating the damage after we got there was the best I could do.”

and for the lovebirds (avaseb and abileah) ur fav feature of ur s/o :3 (A/N: I wasn’t sure whether you meant “feature” in the sense of personality traits or physical features, so I answered for both!)

Ava

“Ooh, where do I start?” she asks, smiling wide. “Okay, so like… There’s a lot to pick from here, but I guess my favorite thing about him is that he’s a really steady, thoughtful person? Like, he thinks before he does stuff, and he’s the person I turn to whenever I need a sanity check. I can always trust him to tell me whenever I’m being too impulsive.

“In terms of physical features… Seb’s got really nice hair! And a nice face. And a nice butt. Just, like… All of him is great, honestly.” She waves her hands and shrugs. “But if I have to pick just one thing to be my favorite, it’s probably his hair.”

Sebastian

“My favorite feature? That’s kind of tough.” He thinks for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip. “I think my favorite thing about Ava is how passionate she is. She gets really invested in things, and she just… She cares about what she does, and she always gives it her all.

“In terms of physical features, uh…” He glances away, ducking his head between his shoulders. His face is pink. “Her eyes, I guess?” [A/N: He’s lying. He does like her eyes a lot, but her legs win the Favorite Physical Feature Award by a small margin.]

Abigail

“I like that she’s, uh… Self-assured isn’t the right word. Earnest, I think?” Abigail says. “She’s spent a lot of time thinking about who she is and what she wants to become, and she’s a good person, even if she doubts herself sometimes. She’s strong in her convictions! She’s a complicated person, and I really admire how she works all of the different facets of herself into her art.

“My favorite part of Leah is her hands. I know, it’s kind of a weird choice, but… I dunno, they’re strong! They’re what she uses to express herself!” She giggles. “And it’s always fun to use palm-reading as an excuse to hold one of them.”

Leah

“Abigail is… A very strong-willed person,” Leah says, her voice fond. “She’s determined, especially when it comes to protecting the people she cares about, and she has a strong sense of justice. But she pairs that determination with empathy. Does that sound strange?

“It took me almost a year, after I moved to the valley, to really feel like myself again— to trust people again— and my progress wasn’t linear. But Abigail’s been…” She searches for words. “Whenever I need to step back and process something, she respects my boundaries. I can always trust that she’ll still be there when I decide to come back, but she doesn’t act like I owe her anything.

“She’s determined, but that determination makes her a safe place to land.

“My favorite part of her, from a physical standpoint, is… Probably her hair. It has a lot of interesting movement, and it’s very fun to draw.” Leah thinks for a moment, then grins. “Although I have to admit, her biceps are pretty nice, too.”

[beckwritesfiction]

Slow Ride - Chapter 2

CHAPTER INDEX: X

Notes: x

Summary: Scarlette, call sign Fuse, grew up with Phoenix, who is trying tirelessly to get her to stay away from her ex-boyfriend. Bob falls in love, and does a good job of hiding it.

Word Count: 2.1k

tw: brief mentions of past physical disfiguration

ARRIVAL: SCARLETTE

Whatever the reason she was in San Diego, she didn’t know.  She had been there only a year ago for her graduation from Top Gun. She was top of her class just like she said she would be.  Part of her was happy she didn’t make the cut when Phoenix did.  Had they been in the same year, they would’ve been pitted against one another.  Nothing like that had bothered them before, but Top Gun was their collective dream.  Though she was disappointed, she was happy to wait another year and try again.  She would’ve reapplied every single year until someone told her she couldn’t. Then she would keep trying, anyway.

Late as always, she was one of the last to arrive.  She wasn’t sure if it was even a good idea to go to The Hard Deck.  There were many memories there, good and bad, but it was also the atmosphere.  It had been months since she was in a bar last.  It used to be the place she went to wind down, to celebrate, to cry, and now it only made her think of how hard she’d made her life.  If she had listened, she wouldn’t feel sick walking just walking through the doors.  But she didn’t, and it took months for her to get over the man Phoenix told her to leave years ago.

Rooster played the piano like it was his job, the others gathered around him, singing and having fun. All she could do was watch, not knowing how to jump in the way she would’ve before. Maybe the problem was that when she was having fun, she also had a drink in her hand. None of them noticed her as she watched from a distance. It shocked her that what she felt was relief. She had fought to be like them — a Top Gun graduate, top of her class. And now, with what she’d done with her life, she wasn’t even sure she wanted the recognition she fought so hard for.

“Here I was, thinking you weren’t coming,” Phoenix said, taking her by surprise. The others were still engrossed in the song, but of course, she was the first to notice her. 

“Of course I came,” Scarlette said, avoiding her eyes for a few moments. For once, she was not the more confident one, ready to conquer the room and be the life of the party. “Did you say anything?”

“About what?” Phoenix asked. Her tone was innocent. There was so much that had changed in Scarlett’s that there were so many things she could’ve been referring to. “I didn’t tell them anything because they didn’t ask. All they asked was if you were coming. We’re proud of you.”

The scar on her face felt hot, then. It wasn’t a sensation she liked. She didn’t consider herself a vain person. Yet there she was, worried about reactions. There hadn’t even been enough time for it to fade.

“Nice of you to show up on time,” Hangman said, grouped around the pool table with a few others. 

“There was no set time, so for all I knew, I was early,” she retorted without hesitation. Part of her thought he preferred to argue. And maybe she did, too, before arguing nearly ruined her life.

Coyote was the first to notice. He had something ready, a comment just on the tip of his tongue. But, when she finally turned to face them after she put her bag down on the stool beside someone she didn’t even notice, he hesitated. Hangman saw it, too. Then another guy she didn’t even know. 

“At least now you’re staring at me for another reason.” She thought it was better to address it than pretend it wasn’t there. “Come on, I’m a big girl. Ask what you want. Say what you want.”

“Do you want me to say you finally blew a fuse?” No one laughed at Hangman’s comment, but she smiled. Scarlette wanted them to know it didn’t bother her; but not like that. It wasn’t about how she looked. It was about what she was reminded of every time she looked in the mirror.

Coyote finally spoke. “Do we still call you Scar, or is that off limits?”

“I’m the only one that ever calls her that,” Phoenix chimed in.

“Alright,” Scarlette moved on, not afraid to sound dismissive. She had never been concerned about how she came off to the men who had once thought she was just a pretty face. Even after proving herself, she still saw the way they looked at her. If it wasn’t like they wanted to sleep with her, it was that they weren’t sure what she was going to do next. Most of those looks came from Phoenix. But they weren’t reserved for her. “Anyone know why we’re here yet?“

The speculation relieved her. They were competing for something, and, being among the best of the best, she wanted whatever it was. No matter why they were there, she wanted the distraction. 

When the piano sounds died off and the jukebox music played instead, Rooster appeared shortly after, offering her a drink. She accepted it, but gave it to Phoenix before excusing herself to use the restroom.

Bob watched from his seat next to Scar’s purse as Phoenix’s hand made impact with the back of Rooster’s head. He couldn’t hear the words exchanged, but he could hear what two other recruits were saying.

“I thought she couldn’t fly anymore.”

“Guess she can if she’s here.”

“Think we’ll have a repeat of Vegas?”

“If someone looks at her the wrong way again.”

Then he was distracted by Phoenix. “Just because she tells you to go ahead doesn’t mean you should. Just act normal, because there’s no reason not to.” Hangman waved her off, but when Scarlette returned, the pool game began. 

“Bob, you break,” Payback said, tossing him a pool stick.

Bob caught it as he got to his feet, making eye contact with Scarlett for the first time. 

“Nice to know someone else doesn’t exclusively go by their call sign,” she said.

“Oh, no, Bob is my call sign.”

Scarlette frowned. “Then what’s your name?”

“It’s Bob.”

She laughed hard, surprising herself. As he returned a small smile, she realized she hadn’t genuinely laughed in a long time. 

“You change your mind about that date yet?” Payback asked, nodding in her direction. 

“Of course.” Her response garnered stares and frowns. “I’m waiting for the day you become a better pilot than me. So, maybe not. The answer’s still never, whichever way you frame it.”

When the laughter died down, she sat in one of the chairs to watch. She was good at pool, but that didn’t mean she liked it. Phoenix was beside her in no time, not saying much, but knowing how badly she wanted to prove that she was fine. There was no way people didn’t know there was some kind of accident, and that ate away at her. But, with her best friend beside her, she felt a degree of comfort despite the fact that she said nothing.

When she refused to buy a round, being the only one at the point that hadn’t, she returned to the question that Bob had wondered. He had been watching her but, as no one had been watching him, no one noticed. 

“Where’d you come up with Fuse?” Fanboy asked.

“It wasn’t my first choice. It was given to me.” 

Hangman laughed. “Ever heard of the term short fuse?“

Rooster’s hand found the top of her head, and she slapped it away. “Emphasis on the short,” he said, not discouraged in the slightest.

“You don’t need to be tall to fly a plane,” she pointed out.

“I’ve never seen you drive a car, though. Do you push the seat all the way up, or do you use pedal extenders?” Coyote asked.

“Sorry, didn’t she out drink you? Twice?” Rooster asked. In the frenzy of laughter, no one seemed to notice that Scarlett wasn’t laughing. Not really. Except Bob.

Time moved slower for the rest of the night.  She struggled to readjust to being around everyone again.  The hard part was over; everyone had seen her, everyone knew about the scar.  They also had confirmation that she could fly, despite what some people thought.  Phoenix didn’t tell her, but she knew there were things she left out.  Rumors spread quickly, especially between them.

At last call, there were very few of them that remained.  Phoenix excused herself to use the restroom, and Scarlette took it upon herself to close out their tabs.  As she waited for Penny to run her card, she was lost in the events of the night, playing them back in her mind.  Right when she was wondering if anyone noticed she never got her drink back from Phoenix, she was startled by someone’s voice beside her.  Not having noticed anyone there, she jumped.

Finding Bob looking at her expectantly, she put her hand on her chest.  “Jesus.”

“I’m a stealth pilot, apparently,” he joked.  She laughed, and he was about to clarify that it wasn’t his joke, but Penny returned her card.  He offered her his, and found that she was looking back towards the restrooms. After clearing his throat, he continued, “You’re really good at playing pool.”

“That’s what happens when you spend your entire life in bars.”  When he looked at her for a moment too long, she shook her head.  “Parents, bar people.  Boyfriend, bar person.  Ex-boyfriend, I mean.”

“Does that make you a bar person?”

“Not anymore,” she replied without hesitation.  She didn’t want to talk about it anymore, and Penny sliding his car back over to him gave her the perfect opportunity to change the subject.  As he signed his name, something occurred to her.  “I’m just waiting on Nat and then we're walking back to base.  You wanna walk with us?”  Hangman, Coyote, and Payback lingered in a corner.  It was them, or her.

Phoenix returned shortly after, and they made small talk on the way back to the dorm.  Their room was at the end of the hall, but Bob continued to walk with them.  He lingered then, waiting until they opened their door before telling them to have a good night.

“He’s thorough,” Scarlette said, putting her bag on her bed.  She wasn’t used to men walking her to her door, even if their own was just a few steps away.  

“He’s also kind of funny.  You have to listen for it, though, over all the shouting.”  After opening her bag and rifling through it, she continued.  “I think I’m gonna make something to eat.  Want anything?”

Scarlette released a sigh, thinking for a second.  “No, not really.”  All that was left for her was to shower and go to sleep.  Walking into the Hard Deck was the hardest thing she’d done in months.  Emotionally, she felt drained.  

There were showers running when she entered the communal bathroom, but she found one with the curtain open.  She took her time, listening to the conversations but not participating.  It felt different being around everyone again.  She had worked so hard to be better, and maybe she’d relied on Phoenix too much in the process, but she was someone else now.  It was like she didn’t know how to talk to her peers anymore, or how to completely be herself.

It wasn’t until she exited the shower, going to brush her teeth, that Rooster realized she was even there in the first place.  He looked over at her, and she looked at him.  Neither one said anything at first, but he was the one that eventually did.  They were used to existing in comfortable silences, but he apparently didn’t want to be comfortable.  

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, glad Hangman’s debate with Payback in the showers was loud, and echoing.  

“Yeah, me too.”  She reached for his toothpaste, swiping it across her toothbrush.  

“So, you hate beer now?” he asked, trying his best to sound casual when asking something that actually felt so serious.

Scarlette shrugged, beginning to brush her teeth.  “Maybe I’ve got different priorities.”  He looked at her, scrubbing away at her teeth.  She took it out of her mouth, repeating herself.

He laughed.  “I heard you.”  She went back to it, shrugging again.  After washing her face, she left, heading for her room but stopping when she nearly ran into Bob.  She grabbed her towel as though it was about to fall, even though it wasn’t.  Going to move out of his way, she found that he mirrored her movement.  They both laughed awkwardly before making the same mistake again.  She leaned against the wall then, making a path for him.

“Excuse me,” he said, offering her a smile before disappearing through the door.  

Rooster stood outside his door, his handle on the handle.  He paused before going in, watching her.

Scarlette pushed off from the wall, flipping him off over her shoulder.

[cyborg-franky]

C0m!

Thank you @spitfire-of-the-sea for letting me write your very fun OC and I hope I did a good job <3<3 Coms are open

Ace x OC SFW Word Count: 1,383

Saki stretched out on the tatty sofa, book grasped in her hands as she read, eyes roaming the pages and simply devouring each story with the flick of her wrist and turning of a page. She got comfortable against the cushions, ones she didn’t doubt were older then she was. 

Marco’s pen scribbling against his papers was the only sound in the office, the occasaly shout from outside would sometimes accompany the beams of sun from the outside world. Both her and Marco enjoy the rare calmness of the afternoon.

She was enjoying her day off, just wanting to read and relax, on standby if Marco needed anything, if he got displacement and ended up staring out the window for hours like he sometimes tended to do, she guessed it was part of his ability, being the phoenix he didn’t need to pay attention to passing hours and trickling seconds like the rest of them.

The door opened and Marco pulled his gaze from his work to offer the visitor a smile and a wave. Saki wasn’t even going to sit up until she heard his voice, Ace. He stepped into the room, the thudding of his heavy boots stomping across the deck until he was in front of Marco.

“What can I help you with?” Marco asked, seeing Ace looking a little sheepish, the glint of guilt in his eyes as he played with the beads around his wrist, trying to avoid the question even though he’d charged into the office with purpose.

“I got a bit excited and burned Deuce, we were just messing around and I forgot he’s ah, not so flame retardant and he’s out of burn ointment.” Ace said with a hum before he heard a snort from behind, turning and seeing Saki set her book down and sit up.

“He’s such a baby he should come and get it himself.” Saki sighed, thinking about how dumb the two Spade Pirates could be when left alone with one another.

Marco watched with raised eyebrows as the two carried on bickering back and forth, there was a lot of banter between the lines, the way they talked to one another, the glances they shared. Marco smirked and rolled his eyes.

Oh to be young and in love.

Neither noticed as he got up from his desk, digging around in the many drawers and cupboards he had in the medbay, trying to recall where he’d last seen the containers of ointment. He used to have a lot ready to go when Ace first joined the crew, when he was still trying to kill Pops and everyone who got in his way would end up paying the consequences.

Grabbing one of the pots labeled ‘Ace Cure’ he made a few effortless strides before taking Ace’s hand and slapping the pot down into his palm, Ace closing his hand on instinct, wrinkling his nose and squinting at the label, about to challenge Marco on it before Saki stood up and sighed, heavy, over the top for emphasis.

“You two would be lost without me, I should have joined the second division and never let you out of my sight.” she said with a frown, her posture lacked the fire to back it up her fake annoyance.

She was just messing with him Marco deducted as he sat on the edge of his desk watching the two’s little dance.

“Aww you know you just miss being next to me all day everyday.” Ace grinned and waggled an eyebrow just to get her hand in his face, pushing him away as he laughed against her palm.

Ace waved to them, leaving once more.

“You like him yoi.” Marco said, arms crossed over his chest with a lazy smirk on his face.

“Fuck off.” Saki replied to her boss. “Ho-how do you figure that anyway? Like what gives you that idea?” She asked, stumbling over her words, not helping her case.

“My dear, I don’t even need my observation haki to see what there is between the two of you, the things you’ve been through together, the bonds you have, many pirates have those connections, granted.” Marco watched Saki as she sat next to him on the old oak desk, her legs kicking in the air absently.

“But the glances you share? The way you look at one another? That’s what makes it something yoi.”

Saki opened her mouth but closed it again, she was too dumbfounded by Marco’s honesty, how he’d laid it out completely in front of her like one of his many maps across the desk. She couldn’t reply, she didn’t think there was anything she could say that Marco wouldn’t just tease and tangle and shine a light on, adding the proof, mounting the evidence.

Shit, she was in love with Ace wasn’t she?

“What should I do?” she asked, not making eye contact with him, watching her dangling feet instead.

“He loves you too but the thing about boys, we are idiots when it comes to feelings, he loves you for sure but will he make the first move? No way. Someone like Ace, always hurting, always damaged and aching in his heart, he can’t put himself forward.”

She nodded, all of that made sense, she felt heat rising to her cheeks as she blushed at the implication that yes, Ace did like her back, loved her back. She knew the damage inside him, what he tried to hide from the world. She knew it, she felt it.

And she knew what she had to do.

—-------

She found him sitting with Deuce and Thatch, having a beer in the gentle evening breeze as the world around was dark, the string lights strung across the deck the only light.

“Hey! I was wondering if you were going to join us!” Ace cheered and raised a glass as she stepped into the circle they’d made.

“Can I talk to you? In private.” Saki began and Thatch laughed before downing his beer and reaching for another.

“Come on lass, we’re all nakama here!” He started but the death glare she gave him and Deuce had the grown man, a division commander at that wilt under her gaze and Deuce shivered before they scurried away.

Ace opened a beer for her, passing it to Saki as she sat next to him on the crate.

“What did ya wanna talk to me about in private?” he asked, brow quirked as he sipped his beer.

“I was talking to Marco about things..” she started, peeling the label on the beer bottle, tugging at the paper and chewing her lip.

“About what? Laying an egg? How to eat fruit like an animal?” Ace said with a laugh, an arm around her as he tried to joke, knowing normally she’d crack a smile and make a playful tease back.

“Us.” her voice was level, not giving away the emotions she felt, the nerves she was fighting.

Her hand gripped the bottle, her only anchor in this moment, she took a breath, in time with the lapping of waves at the hull of the ship before she forced herself to look at the freckled face.

“Us?”

“Us,” she said again.

“Ace, I’m in love with you and I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time and… and… I-” she started to babble, her heart running a mile and as she tried to finish her slew of garble she felt lips pressed against hers, she felt a hand in her hair as Ace deepened the kiss and she let him.

The kiss was soft and sweet, it said more than any words ever could, she almost dropped the bottle as he pulled her body against his, soft warm breath brushing on skin as they parted, eyes locked as she felt herself smile.

“I love you too, I think I have since day one, since that bar brawl..” he admitted, his hand on her cheek, warm fingers grazing her blushing cheeks.

“Marco was right,” she said more to herself as she rested her forehead against his.

“Don’t tell him that, he always thinks he’s right.” Ace mumbled though he couldn’t help chuckle, holding Saki tight as they sat there, the stars watching the confession of two souls.

[phoenixrising0308]

Meet the Garcia's: El Otro (Part 2)

Books: The Royal Romance 1-3 to Royal Heir and cross-over characters from other choices universes.

Rating: M (18+) Sexual situation and adult themes.

Trigger Warnings in this chapter: Hazing &  🍋  

Pairing: Liam Rys x Jessica Garcia (MC)

Agent Phoenix Forged in Fire Series premise: This is a canon divergent series set after TRR 3 Tariq is never found. Liam’s duty to his country forces him into marriage. Jessica and Liam enter into a Cordonian arrangement. Both of them wanted to have a life together. However, various obstacles prevent him from a divorce and having the life they both want together. With dreams of a future crushed, Jessica leaves Cordonia. Despite a five-year absence, they are still heartbroken and unable to forget each other and the life they once shared. When Jessica’s career path takes an expected turn, her duty to her country pushes her to Cordonia, back into the society that burned her, and back into Liam’s sights. Will she rise from the ashes or once again go down in flames? Catch up here  

Disclaimer  

*This is a one-shot was created for this ask. Daisy is an OC and her and Leo may or met and the events that occur in this story may or may not occur in the actual timeline.*

Chapter Summary: Jessica secret is exposed to Liam and Daisy and Leo have a fun night.

Word count: 3,500 *please excuse typos and grammatical errors*

Reading time: 10 Minutes

Song inspiration: Smooth - Santana featuring Rob Thomas

The Garcia’s Home - Kitchen

Jessica smiled at Liam and said, “Liam, can I take you somewhere? We are going to meet Daisy.”

“Love, you can take me anywhere.” Liam pulled her close and kissed her on the lips.

Jessica said, “Leo do you want to-”

Leo interrupted and said, “Yup!”

Jessica said, “Okay, let’s go, guys!  She is going to be there in about 40 minutes”

Mateo threw Liam his car keys and said, “Take my car. I want you guys to have legroom. Since you are going to be around, hang on to it. Liam, take care of my car!”

Liam nodded and said, “Thank you. I will.”

Jessica sucked her teeth “A chevy Malibu is not a clown car.  It’s not my fault these two are giants. I didn’t exactly buy my car for potential love interests.”

Liam’s jaw clenched at Jessica’s choice of words ‘Love interests? There can only be one and I’m it.’

—

Jessica, Liam, and Leo walked to the driveway

Liam coldly said, “Is it parked in the street or driveway?”

Jessica said, “Driveway.”

Liam hit the keypad to open Mateo’s black GMC Yukon.

Leo smirked at Liam and jumped into the back seat as Liam and Jesica lingered outside of the car.

Outside…

Liam crossed his arms and huffed  “Love interests? Jessica, are you serious?“

“You seem upset…Liam are you upset?” Jessica arched a bow.

Liam pouted “Of course I’m upset you said love interests. Moments ago a taser was aimed at my crotch, then we just had sex in a treehouse. Refer to me as your boyfriend, your significant other, your soulmate… your man.”

Liam took a deep breath and said “Anything besides 'Love Interest’ J-e-s-s-i-c-a" he said as he enunciated her name, put up air quotes, and furrowed his brows.

“Hmm, my man?”

“Yes, your man.”

Jessica said, “ You didn’t exactly say ‘Jessica be my girlfriend’ or anything.”

'Fuck! Damn! Okay, fix this Liam.’ Liam cleared his throat and said, “It seems as if I have overlooked a major milestone in our relationship. And I deeply regret it.“

“It would appear so. I guess you made this crazy assumption that you didn’t need to ask. So, until that moment happens, you are a love interest.” Jessica teased.

Liam cleared his throat and said, “Jessica.”

“Yes.” Jessica batted her lashes

“Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

“Let me think about this,” Jessica smirked.

Jessica cupped Liam’s cheek “ I just love it when you’re flustered. Yes. I want to be your girlfriend.”

Jessica looked around and bit his ear and said “Solamente mío.”(You are all mine)

Liam blushed and said, “Solo tuyo mi amor.” (Only yours love)

Leo got out of the car first, using his time to make himself presentable to Daisy.

Bronx Botanical Gardens

Liam began to get out of the car and Jessica put a hand on his thigh and said, “I used to think that this was the best garden in the whole damn world … then I saw your mother’s. I know this might be plain, nothing to write home about since you have seen the world, but it’s a piece of my childhood.  I hope you enjoy walking through it with me.”

Jessica and Liam exited the car.  Jessica shouted, “Daisy!”

Leo looked straight ahead and saw her. She had long dark hair with loose curls, she wore tight black jeans, a v-neck blouse, and boots, with a Canon camera around her neck. She waved at them and made her way over to where Liam, Jessica, and Leo stood. Shouting at them as she walked over “Jessie!”

Liam took Jessica’s hand and intertwined his fingers with hers and kissed it. “Jess, I have seen the world, but when I look at things whether they are new or old  reflected through your eyes it’s never plain – it’s always beautiful and exciting.”

Jessica began her walk towards Daisy and the two women held each other in an embrace. Jessica held Daisy’s hand and said, “Liam, Leo this is my cousin Daisy.  She is a photographer and makeup artist from Chicago.”

Liam gave Daisy a hug. “Daisy, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Liam.”

Daisy smiled and said, “Ahhh the boyfriend… So he asked?”

Jessica said, “He just asked.”

Daisy said, “About time.”

Jessica said, “I know.”

Liam looked down at Jessica and said, “Really? Why didn’t you tell me this was an issue?”

“Well, I shouldn’t have to ask BUT you love me I love you and you're my boyfriend.”

Liam smiled and kissed Jessica sweetly “Yes, Yes I am.”

“Great!  Jessie and Liam I’m going to love taking pictures of you two! Just go around doing whatever you want and I will go around taking a bunch of candid photos. I will trail behind you with this handsome guy. Honestly, you both look like you are princes or something.”

Daisy extended her hand toward Leo and said, “So that makes you Leo, the brother?”

Leo was speechless. 'God she is beautiful.'

Jessica let out a whistle and said, “This is the part where you say hi I’m Leo…”

Leo rubbed the back of his neck and blushed and said, “Hi I’m… I’m…I’m-”

Liam smirked it was the first time that he saw his brother awestruck “L-E-O, say it with me hi my name is L-E-O”

Leo cleared his throat and said, “Yes. Um hi, my name is Liam. I mean Leon. Shit I mean Leo.”

Daisy smiled and said, “Okay…now that that settled, let’s make the rounds.”

30 minutes later…

Jessica and Liam held hands as they walked around the gardens with Daisy and Leo trailing behind.

Daisy said, “… It's not a typical 9 to 5. I freelance here and there. Lately, it’s been makeup and styling for ChicagoStyle Weddings Magazine. How about you?”

Leo said, “ Well, I’m taking a break from things. I did Motorcross for a second. I can practice law if I want to. Don’t know if I will go back to it.”

Daisy said, “Why not?”

Leo said, “ I just don’t think I’m really good at it, you know?”

Daisy stopped and took a picture of Liam and Jessica. Liam has his hands around her waist, whispering in her ear as Jessica bit her lip.

*click* *click*  *click*

Leo said, “One time, I made a mistake on a marriage contract. I married one guy to two people so it was a legal mess. The guy is kind of a big deal back home.”

*click*

Daisy continued taking pictures and said, “How did it end?”

*click*

Leo smiled “It hasn’t yet.  If I ever get invited to the real wedding, maybe you could be my date?”

Daisy turned around and looked at Leo and said, “Will I get a front-row seat?”

“I think you will have one of the best seats in the house.”

“Well, I accept your invitation.”

“Daisy?” Leo took a deep breath and said, “Mind if I try?” as he pointed to her canon camera.

“Sure. Why not? I’ll show you.” Daisy walked over to Leo and handed him the camera. He took it from her hands and felt the smoothness of her fingers. They pause, gazing at each other for a minute.

Daisy said, “Oh! Right! Picture.  So you can adjust the lens like this with the button…

As Daisy explained how to use the camera Leo’s mind drifted, getting lost in her brown eyes and how the sun hit her features with just the right amount of light. 'I haven’t felt like this in such a long time.’

Daisy smiled and said, “Now, you try!

Leo took a few steps back and held the camera right to his eye getting ready to focus.

“Sorry!  Let me get out of your way.”

Leo said, “Actually, I wanted to take a picture of this flower. Don’t move the sun is just hitting all the right spots.” *click*

“Oh! Let me see!” Daisy said with excitement in her voice. She walked over and looked at the digital display. Daisy looked at Leo apologetically and said, “Oh, I totally blocked the flowers when I moved. I’m sorry, Leo. Let’s try again.”

“Actually, no I think it’s perfect. I wanted to take a picture of a really stunning flower named Daisy.”

Daisy smiled and said, “ Thanks. I would love to take some pictures of you on a bike. I am trying to build up my portfolio. I want to do other types of photos. I think you, on a bike, would be kind of sexy and I could do something other than wedding-related stuff.”

“You’d take pictures of me?” Leo smiled at her.

Daisy put her camera up *click* *click* “Why not? You are really handsome.”

“Well maybe… I can take you out as my fee for my services as your model. I collect upfront. After that, we can talk about setting up this photoshoot. But, how do we get a bike?”

Daisy laughed and said, “Easy.”

Leo quirked his brow “What do you mean?”

Daisy whistled and Jessica turned and said: “What’s up?”

“Can I borrow Lee?” Daisy asked

Jessica bit her lip and looked at Liam. “Borrow me for what? Like, get something off a high self type of borrowing me?”

“So … don’t get mad,” Jessica said.

“Oh no,” Liam said with a look of panic.

Garage

Liam looked at Jessica and said, “Jessica, I’m going to have a stroke. You know how I feel about this. You broke your ankle and I almost killed Leo over it. You promised you would never get on one again after you laid on the floor at CVS. You told me to move with my life and leave you there because you were tired from using crutches. That was 30 minutes after you were discharged from the hospital”

“I’m failing to see your point here,” Jessica said as she rolled her eyes.

Liam took a deep sigh and said, “Let me remind you a few months ago you recently took out my side mirror and dented the door of a McLaren P1 that was custom made for me. I’m using your words here love, that it was 'Too fast’. How is this any better?”

“Baby, I know. But I came back to the states and I learned.  It’s great! I don’t use it often. When I’m away Adam and Mateo drive it, just like they do with my car, and make sure it’s not sitting around.”

“Can you tell me why you call it Li? You never call me Li.”

Jessica raises on her tiptoes and whispers in Liam’s ear, “Well, it’s Lee, two 'Es’. The instructor said this would be the best ride of my life. So I sort of named it after you. Because this is like the second-best ride of my life.”

Liam stood in silence trying to figure out what she meant and then it hit him “Oh…OHHHH.”

Jessica handed Leo the keys to her Harley Davidson Sportster Iron 883.

“Wow! I can’t believe you, Jessie. A fucken Sportster! Like the one, I have back home– in black denim! Jessie, we have matching bikes.”

Liam began to pace around the garage with his hand on his hip, nodding and shouting “NO! I know where you are both going with this! NO!”

Jessica ignored Liam and said, “Yup. Ain’t she a beauty?” She handed Leo and Daisy helmets and said, “Now, you two crazy kids be careful out there. Take care of my Lee, Leo.”

Liam put his hand on his hip and looked at Jessica and shook his head “Get rid of it.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!”

“Want to bet?”

“Sure, the words are coming out of your mouth! That doesn’t mean I have to listen!”

“Get rid of the bike!”

“Is that your position?”

“You better fucken believe it!”

“Last position on anything or anyone you are taking tonight!”

“Wait…No Jessica let's talk about this.”

Jessica and Liam continued to argue while Daisy and Leo climbed on the bike. Daisy took out her phone, typed in an address, and said, “Follow the prompts. It’s gonna take us to a few places.”

She put her hands around his waist and said, “How long do these fights last?  Jessica doesn’t give up.”

“Liam’s not winning that fight. He lost the minute he told her 'get rid of it.'”

“That’s the start of the fight.” Daisy laughed.

Leo said, “That’s my point.”

—

Leo felt Daisy’s arms around his waist and he melted into it. They hit a red light, right before the entrance of the Brooklyn bridge.

Daisy was a rather impatient girl, which became apparent when she shook his shoulders for stopping a few moments before the traffic light said to. “We could have made it!” she huffed, sitting back up again to look at her surroundings. Leo looked over his shoulder and laughed, shaking his head fondly at her impatience. “You’re right. But what’s the rush? We have all night.”

Leo looked around, impressed by the beautiful sight. It was truly amazing. His eyes lit up at the view. “This is amazing. Woah,” Leo whispered. Daisy puts her hands on Leo and accelerated the bike up a bit. He didn’t even notice at first, but even when he did, he didn’t stop her. They rose above the speed limit, revving up further. Daisy leaned into him when it came to turns, holding him closer. He drove to the first exit, smiling to himself.

When they hit a red light  Leo looked over his shoulder and pulled up his visor and Daisy did the same so they could look at each other. “Daisy, come on, don’t do that.” raising an eyebrow with a smile on his face. He couldn’t stop smiling at her and she gave him a playful smile.

“But the adrenaline rush!” Daisy bit her lip. Leo looked at her amused and she said, “I like instant gratification … get used to it.” Leo smirked.  She poked her tongue out a bit past her teeth when she laughed, a habit that Leo had noticed. She began to shake his shoulders again when they were good to cross, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Leo parks the bike when they arrive at a Greek street fair. He held her hand as they walked toward the fair, the food smell filling the air. Daisy smiled and said, “SO this happens a few times a year. Jessie and I would come to them all the time. A few years ago, we got this crazy idea to go on a cruise and backpack through Europe.”

“Oh, did you ever get to go?”

Daisy smiled, “Yes! It was so beautiful. I didn’t stay long. I wish I could have. Next time I will bring Jessica because she speaks fluent Greek now.”

Leo nodded “Yea, she does.” They walked toward a food stand. Leo gave a friendly smile at the woman running the stand. “Boroúme na échoume merikés keftedakia, favokeftedes, kai tyropita?” Leo ordered with a friendly smile. His accent was perfect. While it was friendly and casual, Daisy felt a bit turned on by it.

She looked over at him fondly, considering asking him to speak in Greek forever. “Oh my God, you speak Greek?!”

“Yes. So does Liam. BUT I’m hoping maybe you could consider me an option for your tour guide.” Daisy smiled. The woman at the counter handed Leo Keftedakia, Favokeftedes, and Tyropita.

They sat down nearby, feeding one another until they had eaten it all. It was undeniably sensual, the tension rising as they eyed one another. “Don’t get too full, we’re not done yet. We’re going somewhere else,” Daisy said, her voice dipping slightly into seduction as she eyed him with a little, cunning smirk.

They make their way back to the bike and yet again she puts in an address and they get back on the highway.  After 30 minutes, they slow down. Now on city streets, they both pull their visors up. Leo began to notice the Italian pride apparel and flags as they went further down the street.  “Welcome to Little Italy,” Daisy confirmed his suspicions, a smile on her face as they went a bit too fast, jostling the both of them when he slowed down. They sailed past the walking crowds, Leo looking at them eagerly. He was so excited to drink up every single sight.

Daisy tapped his shoulder. “We should go there!” she shouted, pointing to a bakery ’Ferrara Bakery & Cafe’. It looked cute and cozy, even while crowded with people.

Leo pulled the bike into a spot and he felt a hand brush up against his. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, he initiated holding a woman’s hand.  Whenever he’s found himself holding a woman’s hand, it was because she reached for him. But now he found himself doing something that he hadn’t done since Katie.

Leo held the door open for her. It smelled great immediately, sweet and savory aromas from the different bread and pastries floated through the air. They got a table quickly, sitting down across from one another. Leo went up to order what they were getting, a chocolate mousse heart-shaped cake. They were quick to receive it, along with two spoons. Daisy took one, digging in. She let Leo have the first bite, putting her spoon to his lips and watching as Leo moaned at the taste. Instead of finding it amusing, Daisy actually found it pretty hot, chewing on her bottom lip as a little smile took over her features.

“That’s really good,” Leo mumbled, looking up at her. He smirked upon seeing her slightly frazzled features. “You alright?” he asked knowingly, taking a spoonful of the dessert and putting it to her lips, making sly eye contact with her as she took it into her mouth. She had the same reaction as he did, a small affirmative moan. Leo seemed affected by this, leaning forward a bit to gauge her reaction further. “That good, hm?” Leo asked, looking at her lips and then her eyes. Daisy nodded, smiling a bit.

“Really good,” the whole conversation had taken a sensual tone, knowing smiles and sexual innuendo passed around the table. Daisy reached over and put her hand on his thigh to gently caress over his leg. Leo was suddenly very thankful for the tablecloth that blocked their legs from view. Daisy gave him another spoonful, watching as his eyes got dark as he took the bite. It was a sudden change of emotion, and it made her shudder. It was like a cold chill had run over her.  The dessert was not the only thing she wanted to sample. Leo fed Daisy in turn, the hand underneath the table moving towards the bulge in Leo’s pants. She moaned, purposeful and hot.

“Daisy, do you–”

“Yes”

Jessica’s Apartment - Garage - the back seat of Mateo’s car,

Leo helped Daisy get out of her jeans and slid down her panties. Daisy got and gasped as Leo kissed her intensely, and she tangled a hand in his hair. Leo groaned against her lips, thrusting his finger in and out of her quickly. Her hands flexed in his hair, halfway yanking it. Leo moaned at that, curling his fingers, he hit her spot perfectly. The precise thrusts to her spot had her whimpering, squirming unintentionally in his grip. Luckily, he kept her rather still with his strong arms, holding onto her waist hard enough that it would probably bruise her pale skin.

“More, I need more,” Daisy panted out, grinding her hips onto his fingers. Leo nodded, indulging her by adding another finger. Leo’s fingers were so big, so much bigger than her own. His fingers reached spots inside of her that she could never reach herself when she pleasured herself.

Leo continued to curl his fingers with experience and mastery, and Daisy was actually coming close to her climax. Leo noticed and pulled his fingers out, mumbling something about how he didn’t want to stop too soon. Daisy panted as she backed away from the edge, nodding in agreement.

Leo unbuttoned his jeans, rubbing over his thick length. Daisy was so excited to have him inside of her, and the anticipation was killing her. Leo spread her legs further, flipping her so she was on her stomach instead. Daisy was caught off guard, but she arched her back for him anyway. Leo moaned at how eager she was, spreading her legs slightly so she could take him easier.

“Ready?” Leo asked. Daisy nodded and he entered her slowly, making both of them moan. Leo began to thrust in and out of her, holding tightly onto her hips.

They moaned together, Leo’s holding onto the front of her thighs as he continued his calculated and quick thrusts inside of her. Daisy cried out, tightening around him and arching her back. Daisy felt so tight and hot around Leo’s length, and it was driving him crazy.

“You’re so fucking tight, it’s unreal,” Leo moaned out in bliss. He wasn’t the only one feeling the bliss, though. Daisy could practically feel Leo in her stomach, and it drove her crazy.

“Fuck, Leo! It feels so good. I love how your cock feels. You’re so fucking big, damn,” Daisy panted. Leo left a quick slap on her ass, making her yelp and rock forward slightly. Leo was quick to hammer her hips back down onto his cock, making her cry out. She’d never felt pleasure like this before, it was almost overwhelming. She couldn’t even wrap her head around how good it was. Her wetness was practically sucking him in as they rocked together, moaning in tandem.

Daisy knew she was getting close to her climax, and Leo knew that too. He reached down to rub at her clit, earning a moan from her. “Fuck!” she cried out, her face pressing down further into the backseat of the car. She let her eyes flutter shut for a moment, seeing white as Leo continued his calculated and quick thrusts inside of her, knocking her forward with each one.

When she did cum, it was intense. It hit her suddenly, catching her off guard. Waves of intense pleasure rolled through her body so strongly that they almost hurt. She gasped, her head lolling to the side as he fucked her through it, chasing his own orgasm. Their loud moans echoed in the backseat.

They laid panting in the back seat of Mateo’s car for a few minutes trying to catch their breath.

Jessica’s Bedroom…

Jessica laid on her side as Liam kissed her shoulder

“Fine. But I have a few conditions.”

“Okay, let’s hear them.”

“You are always in safety gear from head to toe. You use the stuff from the armory. It’s better than anything you can get on the market … Yes, I will get it customized for you.  You’ll have a lighter tint on your helmet, so I know you can see better. You use a bike that I get you and that meets my safety criteria. This also means Drake has to ensure that you are 100% capable of driving it. AND you always tell me when you’re going to use it. You never ride alone; so you are accompanied by either Drake or Leo on their bikes. Lastly, NEVER EVER get on that bike after a fight or when you are upset.”

“Ok. Just to be clear, I’m keeping Lee?”

“Yes.” 'How did we go from Jess I don’t want you to have a bike. To yes, I’m buying you one?’

Jessica rolled on top of Liam and straddled him and aligned herself with Liam slowly sinking into him. She stood still for a second’s and slowly moved up and down his shaft. She tossed her head back and Liam grabbed her waist, biting his lip as he moaned out loudly. He looked up at her and she looked down at him – both looking at each other with lust in their eyes.

'That’s how… she is the best ride I’ve had before. God, I just love everything about her.’

A few days after Jessica leaves for Cordonia

The Garcia’s Home - Driveway

Mateo was cleaning out his car and became absolutely livid when he saw the four open condom wrappers in the backseat of his car. “What the fuck! My fucken car, Liam My Fucken Car! Now I really do have to taser your dick. Four condom wrappers!!”

[stormxpadme]

​Whumptober 2022 No. 25 - Duct tape & “You better start talking.”

Thanks to @sneakymystique for the idea for this prompt!

*

2032

No matter how Scott had managed to piss off one of his enemies this time – in a bad year, it was enough to breathe too loudly certain peoples' way –, this was not how he had imagined his Friday evening to go.

With Ororo and Kurt watching the school, this had been supposed to be the first night off in months, reserved for two far-too-expensive concert tickets and the other half of Katja's and his polycule promising them, they'd be there to get them after the gig for a very special kind of aftershow party in some exclusive kink club. Scott had been fully prepared to wake up from a few hours of fun with the hangover of his life and being sore in all the best places ... But definitely not from a far too high dose of some anesthetic, judging by dull nausea in his stomach, and with whatever damage a too-close enemy encounter would bring this time. For the moment, he was cranky more than anything, opening his eyes to some bright headlight aimed straight at him, silently cursing at a killer headache throbbing behind his forehead. How was this always happening on date night? The odds to make it home anytime soon were frustratingly slim, as became clearer with every second.

  Whoever was behind that new kidnapping – with the X-Men's questionable luck lately, it wasn't unlikely, someone up there in that damn ice dune in Alaska had gotten bored of the still so shaky peace between their groups … They seemed mad enough to want to clear this in private.

  Scott was pretty sure, had seen this dusty interrogation room between half-collapsed rock walls before, though, with the distorting tint of red gone that had colored decades of his life, he could make out a lot more details this time. The sounds of waves crashing against sharp cliffs behind uncovered windows, somewhere far below him, were a pretty unmistakable hint too. Scott's already lousy mood dropped to another all-time low instantly. Yeah, he could have done without ever setting foot on Genosha again in his life. With that damn battery-operated spot on the ceiling right in front of him, stinging uncomfortably in his eyes, as the only source of lightning in a room that had somehow been far scarier when he'd first met most of the Brotherhood here at the age of 17, there was no telling where his enemy was. But suddenly remembering a glimpse of yellow and brown in some stranger's eyes right next to him at that damn garage counter earlier, right before the ground had suddenly come to meet him, the hated sting of a syringe in his neck faster than even an instinctive response of his powers, chased the last of disorientation from his mind.

  It meant, for all he knew, his enemy could be standing right in front of him, her appearance blending in with the wall behind her, or hanging from the ceiling right above him, just waiting for him to do something stupid before trying to run him through with some blade … Only none of this made sense. Not with how comparatively calm and sometimes even mutually fruitful this truce between Westchester and New York III had been so far. Mystique didn't risk her position of power by endangering her city for some petty revenge anymore.

  So maybe they could actually try to talk this out for once. Whatever it was. With an unnerved sigh, Scott stopped trying to free himself from where his wrists were bound behind the armrest of his chair, his ankles fixed to its rusty legs. If a conversation wasn't happening, he would be out of this predicament within five seconds anyway, without even the need to conjure his powers.

  Mystique had apparently been in a hurry, or maybe she was just looking for a good spar. No hostile was usually careless enough to not slap Scott in heavy chains when they actually managed to get their hands on him for once. Which, thankfully, had become increasingly rare since the last Phoenix crisis. "Duct tape, huh? Kinky."

  "If you don't want it on that big mouth of yours next, spare me your perverted fantasies."

  Right behind him but out of reach for a headbutt or for crashing that damn chair into her. What a surprise. Scott made a mental note to cancel all appointments and workouts for at least the next two weeks when he got home. It would have bordered on a small miracle to not get out of this situation once more with half the tendons in at least one knee shredded. That his enemy hadn't actually started yet to use some of these cruel toys littering the room on him, or that impressive strength in her body, might mean, she was indeed in a mood to negotiate.

  Scott supposed he should be thankful she at least hadn't decided to stop by in the shape of one of his lovers earlier, just to fuck with his head. One memory of that kind was more than enough. "You didn't complain when you shoved your tongue down my throat last time."

  "30 years, and you're still hung up on that." A screeching hurt in Scott's ears when Mystique dragged another chair across the uneven, rocky ground to sit down in front of him, still in an angle in the punishing light that made it impossible to make out more than her slender frame, the impatience bounce of her crossed legs. Still no punching though. Something was definitely off.

  "Feels like you're the one hung up on something here. Again. We've talked about the whole kidnapping thing, you know. Etiquette in times of truce and all?"

  "My people being attacked in times of truce wasn't part of the contract either." Mystique was twirling something in her hand that, judging by the sound of it sanding her already far-too-sharp nails, Scott didn't think he wanted to get any closer to. "You're just lucky I got outvoted on pulverizing your house before we know what the fuck is going on in your damn head this time, Summers. You better start talking. Or I promise, Stryker's little visit back then will look like finance inspection to you when my people are done."

  Scott's face hardened immediately, his willingness to settle this without drama rapidly waning, just at the prospect of the students and his family, once more, suffering from one of Mystique's goddamn seasonal depressions. "That settlement paper also said we don't take it out on each other's homes when you and I got a problem with each other."

  "Should have remembered that earlier." His enemy leapt at him too suddenly to call upon a reflective blast in time, her strong knee painfully digging into his midsection, the diamond-sharp coldness of her dagger right against his throat. "But don’t worry, I'll take my time with you first before I think about taking over management in Westchester. If you think I was being harsh in New York, brace yourself. I should try taxidermy on some other part of you this time. Let's see how well your enthusiastic in-house healer is doing with re-growing those for you. If he survives my people going all Marie Kondo on your school, that is. Or do you want to try and explain yourself before the fun starts?"

  Though it became increasingly harder, with that simmering worry for dozens of children and teenagers, for his lovers and his teammates simmering in his veins, Scott shoved that package of distraction where it belonged for the moment, into the deepest hidden corner of his soul, and forced himself to look his enemy straight in the eye, every mild scorn, every exasperation replaced by honest soberness. Something that at least on good days, with a lot of luck, got even through to this woman's sick mind. "I have not the slightest idea what you're talking about, Raven."

  That, she hadn't expected. The blade actually retracted half an inch or so. Not enough to risk an attack of his own yet, sadly, with Mystique's leg only pressing down harder against sensitive body parts, drawing a quiet hiss from his lips. A clear warning to not try and fuck with her – not that he'd ever felt the wish for that on any kind of level. "Is the memory loss of that feral in your house infectious since you guys are fucking? Energy blast to our external main generator mill? Yesterday? Ring any bells? It's the middle of the fucking winter. If I didn't an engineer able to recreate lifeless matter on a cellular level in nanoseconds, you'd have killed half of our population. Do you even realize that?"

  Well, that explained a lot and nothing at all. "And you think I'd do that because ...?"

  That honestly offended tone in his voice must have been convincing enough since Mystique finally withdrew for good, sitting down again. Which was courageous after what she'd just done, but from experience, Scott knew of course that even on such a short distance, that woman could dodge his blasts when it came to it, especially with his head still feeling like being hit by a truck. "Last time I checked, people on your side of the moral high ground don’t need a reason for killing." But that actually sounded more absent than aggressive now; in her head, Mystique was visibly already busy considering whom she could try to pin this shit on next.

  Scott was very much willing to leave her alone with that inspiring task. If he wanted to spend an hour exchanging useless reproaches and bitterness, he'd accept one of his birth family's yearly invitations for Thanksgiving dinner. "Last time I checked, it was the Brotherhood attempting genocide a couple of times, not us."

  Yellow eyes and too-white teeth were flashing at him again immediately, the blade still ready in his enemy's hands. Someone wasn't finished yet seeing ghosts. "And we were pardoned every time, in case you forgot, by the highest powers. So you might want to take these pathetic attempts of vengeance of yours and shove it where …"

  "Pants. Right side. What? I can't exactly get to it myself right now, can I?" Scott added with a grunt when Mystique just stared at him in a combination of confusion and disgust.

  "Fine. Just don't blame me when your wife tries to fry your condescending ass for the whole groping part." She leaned over with tight lips, her dagger held right between them in a warning, making it a point to touch him as little as possible while she pried his phone from his jeans as if she'd not spent the last 50 years or so leaving as much damage as possible on his body in countless close combat duels. "You're gonna unlock it too or do I need to stare at your Spotify playlist for the rest of the night? Jesus, Summers, you have really shitty music preferences."

  "I'm not taking taste commentary from someone who spends his life running around naked." Ignoring his enemy's next scathing glance, Scott forced the faint drawl of his hometown in the north that was left in his speech from his voice, to address, in flawless Oxford English and with the necessary deep cadence, the artificial intelligence from his home network that was always lurking on standby in all his electronic devices, exactly for emergencies like this. "LUCY, activate restricted external limited mobile access. Full lockdown on any X-Men network data and entry gateways. Temporary unlock display, two minutes countdown. Photos." The last order was aimed at Mystique, similarly reluctantly as she was taking it. The fantasies for tonight had not included his enemy looking, among others, on compromising pictures of Scott's wife and him stealing away from yesterday's trip for a few much-needed minutes of adrenaline. Those images had the advantage of showing the Leaning tower of Pisa through the hotel room window in the background though. And the rest of the photo documentary of that little history class trip should hopefully even convince a paranoid mind like his enemy's that Scott had spent yesterday literally on the other side of the world.

  "I did not need to know that." Mystique dropped his phone on his lap as if it had gotten hot, a little too dramatically for his taste but at least finally with most of her aggression gone.

  "Could have fooled me with how often you undressed me in the past," Scott gave back tiredly, more vulnerable for a moment in the middle of a still dicey situation than he'd have liked to admit, mostly from Mystique's so very casual mention a moment ago of what had easily been the worst torture of his life. "Think we can stop the bondage session then? Or are you gonna hit me just out of principle? Hurry up then, I've got somewhere to be."

  "Not so fast." Mystique started pacing the room, increasingly restless. Now that she knew she had fucked up, she was surely impatient to get back to a city that wasn't half as safe and protected without her around as its location in the middle of nowhere usually promised. But before, they should probably both try to find out which instrument was giving off the wrong harmony here. "I've seen the damn footage, Summers. Not a face but I know how it looks when someone uses powers like yours. Maybe it was that batshit crazy brother of yours."

  "Good luck kidnapping him." Scott showed an honest shrug. He couldn't think of a single reason why Alex of all people should try to start a war with the Brotherhood, but he simply didn't know his birth family well enough to rule anything out. And his interest in pulling his little brother's ass out of trouble once more was extremely low. "Usually takes me a year or so to find him. Besides, Havok always announces his arrivals since the Defenders almost knocked Dad and him out of the sky by accident once."

  "Well, if it wasn't any of you ..." Mystique couldn't finish the sentence before a bright glowing energy blast from somewhere by the door hit her entirely unprepared shape, from someone neither of them had even known was on that damn island. The attack sent her flying into a wall so harshly, she blacked out immediately.

  "It wasn't, no. It was me."

  For the first time in this unfortunate situation, Scott's stomach clenched painfully. That dark, sonorous voice, he wasn't hearing for the first time. Well, there went an evening off duty for good. With that damn headlight still blinding him, he could only vaguely spot that certain, ridiculously tall shape, this unnaturally snow-white skin, a menacing red glint of a diamond-shaped mark, when the next enemy dead set on pissing him off tonight stepped closer. Another bright ray of light flashed through the room before he'd even opened his mouth to speak, hitting him right in his solar plexus, and for a while, he couldn't see anything at all.

     *****

    He woke up to even worse headaches than before and his whole ribcage hurting. But both of these sensations were paling immediately when Scott startled up, before even being really awake, trying to summon his gift to blast a hole in his enemy if he was anywhere nearby, only to realize it wasn't there. The unforgiving, thick resistance of an inhibitor collar was choking him, making breathing hard for more than one reason.

  A second one adorned the neck of the woman standing next to him in a ridiculously tiny prison cell, her skin no longer red and blue, her hair a pale, short-cropped blond. But that look of sheer murder was still the same on that human-shaped version of hers. "Well, finally." Apparently, pissing Scott off for no reason was no longer on her agenda tonight, now that they were both in trouble. "Took your sweet time."

  "Didn't realize it was my job to get us out of shit that you people keep on throwing me in," he gave back sarcastically, but too quiet for real bite. Because while they still seemed to be on that damn island, judging by the sight of these disgustingly wet, rotten walls, the lighting was a lot better down here, in what seemed to be a still perfectly good-wired basement. And that meant, Scott had a far better view now than he cared for on Essex standing outside their cell with a broad grin on his lips.

  "It's a pleasure to see you again, Scott." His enemy stretched out both arms as if wanted to pull him close for an amicable hug through the thick prison bars. "Now that I'm back in the world, you didn’t think I would forget our yearly appointment, did you?"

  Right. Must be past midnight by now. Meaning, it was indeed that time of the year again, though thanks to a couple of physical resets, age had started to become a significantly blurry number at this point. Happy birthday to him or something.

  "What charming company you keep," Mystique growled as if it was his fault she'd been stupid enough to fall for this whole trap.

  He huffed without taking his eyes off Essex for even a moment who had needed only split seconds to turn a nerve-wracking misunderstanding into a real huge fucking problem. This time, Scott needed to defeat the asshole if he didn't want to deal with this kind of shit every year from now on indeed. "He wishes. Didn't you notice my fanbase tends to gets a little crazy? Charles didn’t think the guy important enough for me to remember him so we shouldn't overstay our welcome."

  The blood-red color of his enemy's large eyes seemed to glow for a moment, a sight eerily familiar. "One of your old mentor's many questionable decisions, yes. Well, we will have more than enough time to get acquainted this time. Let me thank you for showing me this place, Darkholme. Here, the three of us won't be disturbed for a while."

  "What the fuck do I have to do with your private little war?" Mystique was insufferable any other day too but forced into her human shape and bereft of most her powers, Scott doubted Essex had any idea the world of pain he would be in once she would get her hands on him. She was even mad enough for her bluff to sound too shaky, too agitated, too shrill. Essex was one of the few people who could instill respect even in her. Not least because she knew exactly, she was being one of the keys for that asshole possibly regaining all those artificial mutant gifts that Charles and Emma had robbed him of decades ago. "If you two want to deal with your parental issues, leave me out of it and get me to my helicopter."

  "Funny you would put it like that …" Essex stopped even closer, the self-satisfied grin on his lips growing. "Unlike your cellmate, you will enjoy my company for a while, Darkholme. Once you have given birth to a child for my studies with ideally a gift at least as powerful as the two of you possess, you can go back to your people. It's entirely up to you how long that will take. As you know best yourself, the far more tasteful and scientific plan I originally had to conduct this experiment will unfortunately not work on an aged body like yours. My first attempt at that, while you were out, has proven, you will have to manipulate your cells into being ready to conceive. I will leave it to the two of you to give me what I am asking for the natural way."

  Mystique let out an almost hysterical laugh, maybe for the first time in her life faced with someone whose twisted ideas about how to conquer the world knew even fewer limits or scruples than her own had before the fall of her New York. "If you studied me well enough to be craving an offspring of mine, Essex, you should also know, mind tricks won't work on me. So what exactly makes you think I will comply with anything that is of no use for me?"

  "Two dozen of remote bombs in every corner of both your home bases will be motivational enough, I figure." Pointing two fingers in the air, Essex pulled an ancient but still perfectly working monitor close. With the help of his technical mental powers, he drew up digital maps of both Westchester and New York III, both scarily detailed. The marked spots indeed revealed that even small blasts would destroy the whole area, bringing down every wall, every ceiling.

  For a moment, neither Mystique nor Scott were in any mood to joke or provoke anymore.

  "I will give the two of you the necessary privacy now. You have an hour before I throw a dice about which of your homes to raze to the ground first." Their enemy strolled towards the exit of the dungeon, a cheerful whistle on his lips. "I will keep an eye on you on the camera though. So do yourselves a favor and don't try anything irrational."

  Mystique and Scott stared at the heavy door falling close behind that asshole in utter disbelief and cluelessness. At the first initial shock, the worry about an unhinged psycho like Essex easily going through with a threat like that was too massive a burning hot obstacle of hate probably not only in Scott's mind to even keep breathing, not to mention thinking. They had to get out of here, immediately, stop that son of a bitch, get to their respective homes and make them safe again … Warn the others from something they wouldn't even see coming before dozens – or thousands – of innocents would perish from the moods of a madman. Children, untrained teenagers, babies … Scott hardly even felt the movement of his numbed body away from the cell door and towards the far more substantial obstacle of a wall when it came. His racing thoughts were filled with a blinding red heat of panic that needed an outlet, immediately …

  Before he could unload all this surging aggression on unforgiving rock, a harsh hand grabbed his wrists and yanked him back against the door's bars. "Cut it out, you imbecile."

  Raven had caught herself faster than he'd been able to which was enough reason to do the same, to take a deep breath, and pant out that threatening overload of wrath before it could further hinder his focus. Before it could tempt him into something as stupid as hurting himself and lowering the chances in the upcoming fight when they would both have to function better than ever. Besides, as they'd just been told, they were short on time, so they better got started.

  "No audio," Mystique informed him impatiently when Scott's eyes instinctively wandered to a corner of the hallway outside where he could see the faint glistening of a newly polished camera lens indeed aimed straight at them.

  Trying to use the two of them for his newest patch of his experiments in what had once used to be one of their own lairs of all places was just one of those mistakes out of pride that even a brilliant mind like Essex' regularly made. And this time, it would hopefully be his last.

  Not wasting another second, Scott ripped the mattresses of the two narrow stretchers in the back of the cell out, throwing them on the floor in a gesture of irritation he didn't need to feign for the camera. Let the asshole think they were actually going through with this. Not being on their feet when the bastard came back might cost them a few seconds, but the camera angle wouldn't be worth shit if they were on the ground. And they had stuff to do. "Clothes." Scott had to grimace at his own sober order. No, there was not a single situation he'd ever been able to imagine when he'd want to get naked in front of this woman of all people. But Essex had rid them of all they'd had on them to use, naturally, Scott knew that without checking. At least until they had what they needed, they needed to keep this show running.

  Mystique, less compromising and unfazed with all necessary duties to reach her goal, as usual, was already busy stripping out of some loose, wide shirt and a pair of pants their captor must have found for her somewhere in this deserted hideout of hers that had never been emptied completely. Bared in the cell's now half-dimmed lights, she was ridiculously beautiful in this shape too, Scott found without much surprise. Her cheeks didn't even show the slightest hint of blush when she got down on the makeshift bed, her gaze checking his own unclothed shape in a similar detached examination. "What do you got on you?"

  The forceful focus on the task ahead became a lot harder when they ended up in each other's arms, on their side, to give their enemy what he needed to see and to be able to lower their voices to almost a whisper at the same time, in case Essex was listening maybe, after all. "Explosive Cyanide, right lower jaw. Uh, no." Scott turned his head away with a grimace when his enemy promptly tried to kiss him, a gleeful grin on her lips, and not only because this was still the woman who would have happily dissected him an hour or so ago. "I'm not trusting you with not causing some accident with that tongue of yours, Darkholme. I'll get it out when he's close enough to make that shot. There's also a titanium lingual wire we can use. I can't use my nails on the screw while he's looking though."

  "Leave that to me. And if you don't want him to come to check on us personally, stop acting like a twelve-year-old, Summers." Mystique wrapped her legs around his hips to leave no doubt about what she meant, and pulled him closer, rubbing her just as smooth, cool middle against his hips shallowly enough to ignore the unwanted stimulation. Facts like that the skin of her unnervingly regular, slow heaving chest pressing against his own was entirely, unsettlingly smooth in this hated shape of hers though, not unlike Jean's after her rebirths … Or a faint scent of lilies where Scott had expected copper and gunpowder … That was much harder for someone to ignore who'd been relying for decades on all his senses doing the job for his eyes in far too many situations. But with Mystique's eyes wide open and blazing, showing the same eons of anger as ever, and her wish for revenge, there was no danger of some unwanted body function getting out of control anytime soon. "Wire could work. I've got half a dozen toxic hairpins ..."

  "Thanks for the timely warning." Scott quickly pulled away from where he'd just reluctantly brought himself to bury one hand in those soft, short curls while Raven's soft lips were on his ear, hissing threats and plans and hate into it, for once actually not directed at him.

  And a chuckle he hadn't expected in a situation like this. "Don't shit your pants, Summers. They're right on my scalp. I have a cartridge too that I'll need for a proper tool, but you'll have to grope a little deeper to get to it." Mystique backed away for a moment, without stopping that firm but entirely soulless, mechanic massage of her hand on his behind though, her brow shooting up in provocation, with even more amusement, when Scott paused once more.

  His posture going stiff against hers immediately, his hand stilled where it had only just begun caressing her waist, agitated fingertips tracing those killer abs of hers she had even in this shape, and the three faint but still palpable scars Logan had left on her at Liberty Island. As far as Scott was concerned, that was more than enough effort for a show that was supposed to be over in 10 minutes tops anyway. That he would actually have to touch that woman in a way he'd never wanted to hadn't been in the rulebook. "If this is one of your sick jokes …"

  A snort on her lips, his unwilling partner-in-crime leaned in to get her lips back on his ear, only to bury her teeth harshly in his shoulder next, tight enough not only to almost draw blood but also to send a hard twitch of pain through Scott's body that would hopefully at least make things more believable for a fleetingly watching pair of eyes. "Thinking I'd joke about wanting your fingers in me says more about you than me. Don't be a damn infant. We have no time. Lay back and get to work." Not even waiting for an answer, she pushed him down on the mattress and knelt over him in an unambiguous position with her legs wide spread, reaching for his hand impatiently when he tried to get himself together for another moment too long, pulling it downwards. Only when he very reluctantly put it where it needed to go did she bend lower over him with her mouth back on that spot she'd just tortured, sharp-clawed fingertips wandering over his opposite shoulder, over a couple of muscles there that she'd damaged herself more than once in the course of the decades, a slow caress moving past that damn collar to his jaw, finally coming to rest on his lips.

  Even with Mystique being so clearly all business, it still took some effort, to force himself to trust this woman even for five minutes. But when Scott finally brought himself to open his lips, closing them around these long, deadly fingers, the tip of his tongue guiding them to the fragile tiny lock in question that Hank had put in place many years back exactly for such cases of captivities, it was surprisingly fast and painless. Maybe his enemy was just also very aware that with him having two fingers of his own in a very vulnerable spot of hers right now, she shouldn't try to fuck with him in an even worse way than it was happening right now anyway. Both pieces of metal came free faster than hoped which was just as well because unlike his reluctant bed partner, Scott took no joy in hurting someone needlessly, and there wasn't exactly anything around to lube the way. He couldn't help but notice, it wasn't only his hand slightly trembling when it met Mystique's on the mattress in a short squeeze of comfort, feeling the sturdy long wire she'd retrieved on her part in her palm before he gave her what she'd asked for.

  Just for a nanosecond, there was something like an almost grateful smile on her lips but Scott didn't get a chance to stare at it because Mystique immediately scooted up higher on the mattress to shove her chest into his face next. Her hands where she was bracing herself on her elbows above his head were already busy putting her plan into motion. "Yeah, that should do for the door lock. I could get your collar open too, I think. But for that, I need something more stable than the wire. Something circular, or bent at least, to hook in."

  "You're gonna have to grope a little lower for that." It was his turn to grin when Mystique straightened up again to stare down at him with her mouth wide open, clearly keeping herself with a lot of willpower to stare at his loins just as incredulously and far too conspicuously. When she made a move to scoot down on the mattress, Scott stopped her easily enough with his legs around her fragile-looking waist because there were some lines not even worth crossing in a bad play like this. "Not happening. Use those clever nails of yours again. Carefully, unless you wish me to bite through your fucking jugular."

  "Relax. I'm not going to castrate you, Summers. I need you to get out of here, remember?" The weak grin was back on her lips, followed by a clear shudder that had nothing to do with pleasure though when she was the one reaching down this time. "But – seriously? You realize I'm gonna have to live with his image in my head for the next few hundred years, right?"

  "Near-immortality sucks, I guess," he answered without a lot of compassion but then hissed through his teeth before he could stop himself. Having someone fumble with a modification on a most sensitive spot without them seeing what they were doing was maybe not the brightest idea after all. Not to mention that this certain piece of jewelry had originally not been meant to come off anytime soon. The unexpected soothing caress of Mystique's other hand on his shoulder was a more comforting surprise than it should have been really.

  Once his cellmate had got that last part for her little piece of handicraft too, they were as good as out of here at least. While Scott was making dutifully sure with his mouth back on those soft, full curves that their captor thought them busy with producing his newest test object for him, Mystique was cursing under her breath above him, breaking her nails, scratching and banging noises of parts against the floor to bend them the right way accompanying the next few minutes. Then she was finally pushing herself lower over him again, rubbing her hips against his in a rhythm he might have called sensual with a partner he actually wanted to be with, while Mystique pretended to have her head buried against his shoulder, her lips in truth firmly closed around the lock of the hated device around his neck.

  As uncaring as Mystique had pretended to be the whole time: When Scott closed his arms around her fragile shape a lot firmer then, she startled and stiffened immediately, trying to move away from where their loins were still moving against each other without hardly even touching. An instinct of flight at even a hint of force so deeply ingrained, that for an absurd moment of anger for far too many damn assholes on this world, Scott wished he could blast into pieces whoever had left that kind of fear behind. "What …?"

  "Don't move." More warning, he couldn’t give her because he couldn't be sure Essex didn't have some energy wave tracker on those collars.

  If the bastard had maybe already noticed that one of his beloved torture devices had just come apart, he might already be listening again, or standing behind them in a moment ... If it was to be at all, it had to be now.

  With his temporary partner's head against his shoulder, safely held there and away from his own face with a strong grip of his hand on her neck, Scott opened his eyes wide and let go.

       *********

  It took them a while, but in the end, they managed to find a couple of parts of Essex in what was left of the computer laboratory on the ground floor. Surprisingly, a lot of it, actually, given Scott had blasted his way full force through this damn castle, pulverizing any falling debris, all rock, and metal and furniture threatening to crush his cellmate or him, until the last of tremors in the building had subsided. He tagged some of his enemy's rotting flesh for Hank to take a look at, just to be safe, because his team had already been sure last time Essex was no more, and that guy had more lives than a damn cat.

  With that, they were done here, actually, but as it turned out, that asshole Essex had of course sabotaged the damned helicopter that he'd come here with along with Mystique's. All their cells and communicators had fallen victim to destruction too. But at least in the computer lab, there was still a single, lonely radio left working with enough juice to contact Westchester.

  "I think this is yours." When they were waiting on the unfriendly, sharp-rocked beach outside then, the Blackbird's shape in the distance quickly coming closer, Mystique was already feeling gleeful enough again to throw a certain piece of metal with two barbells on it Scott's way. "Just so you know: I will never. Ever. Let this go. I can't believe you have …"

  "You think we can leave that part of the mission report between the two of us?" Scott massaged the bridge of his nose with two fingertips, feeling a certain headache return.

  He didn't have much hope that Mystique would keep her mouth shut about this thing forever. For that, she loved fucking with his head far too much.

  But since Katja and Scott had only just managed to say goodbye to the subject of jealousy for good, the last thing he needed right now was all three of his polycule members trying to stab someone through the chest without whom he wouldn't be standing here right now, as much as he hated to admit that.

  "Fine. Guess I owe you one for that shot." Mystique sighed, clearly disappointed to be robbed of ammo for one of her beloved manipulations. "That guy?" The grin gone, she thrust her jaw forward in honest-looking aggression. The Brotherhood had done their own share of experimenting on mutants for their goals but nothing on that scale. The last time they'd tried that, it had cost Mystique Magneto, and Scott doubted, she would ever be that stupid again. Yes, that woman had more crimes on her back than he could even come up with enough strength to hate her for sometimes, but Essex represented something they both hated with a passion.

  "Yeah. That guy." Scott looked back over his shoulder at the ruins of the castle, his throat tighter than from that collar earlier. It would have been too tempting to think of this building as of today, as a grave for two and not only one of his arch-enemies. "Might not have been the last time. He's got a few dirty tricks up his sleeve. And with Charles and Emma both gone, there's not many who can stop him."

  "Time to give him a couple of more problems. Send me all you have on him." Mystique just left Scott standing there before he could think of anything to say to that surprising offer. Even in the dark, she'd spotted before he had that two dark blue shapes, almost blurring with the background, had appeared in the distance.

  Whoever was piloting apparently didn't want to waste time looking for a landing space and had rather sent Kurt instead, together with Hank, to make sure there wasn't some medical emergency Scott might only have forgotten to tell his teammates on that short call earlier.

  Kurt teleported closer to them immediately and looked back and forth between them with an expression of pure confusion on his face, at the way they were standing there close to each other, both with stiffly crossed arms and stained, half-ripped clothes. "Well, this is awkward." A broad smile broke on his lips when Scott rolled his eyes at him and gestured him to shut up, his sharp teeth glistening in the dark like pearls. "You know, when I told you, two you needed to stop fighting for custody over me, that's not what I meant."

  "Hey, Elf, think we can postpone jokes about illegal mutant experiments? I would really like to get to my wife right now. I'm already pretty late."

  "Sure thing, Boss Man." Kurt still seemed to think this whole thing hilarious. He kept on chuckling to himself when he gave Mystique a brief, amicable hug and wrapped his tail and arm around her then to get her to the Blackbird.

  "Sure you two don't want to take a swim in the ocean first?" Hank was the next who just couldn't shut up once he came close enough to smell with his enhanced senses, apparently, what had gone down here not too long ago. "Not that I mind Darkholme having a few holes in her body but if we get you to Logan like this, my young Captain, I fear for the Blackbird's safety in the air with all that fighting going on …"

  Scott knew, of course, his friends were mostly trying to make him laugh because he never felt a lot like that after running into Essex … But that couldn't prevent a very healthy color on his cheeks. "If I give you both two weeks off, will you shut up?"

  "No holidays anytime soon," Hank gave back, becoming serious again. "When your powers came back on, Jean could locate your mind immediately, and some of what was going on around you. Essex' telepathic signature was gone from there before you blasted him into parts, I'm afraid."

  Well, it would have been too good to be true. "He can't hide forever. We'll get him. Someday."

  "Leave that to professionals for once, Summers," Mystique repeated, already with enough composure again to be a bitch. "I'll let you know when you can collect his last head for your living room wall. You guys go. I have my own ride." She nodded up towards the sky where there was another vehicle approaching. The X-Men must have sent a message to New York III before coming here. "I'll see you at the Space Council meeting on Monday, Summers. If I can still remember how you look with your clothes on, that is."

  Kurt wisely reached out to grab Scott's arm before he could get tempted to shoot Mystique just on principle and teleported him straight into the Blackbird where he was already awaited sorely by three highly distraught lovers.

  One of them immediately started complaining about a very peculiar smell on him indeed which brought the last of sorely needed normalcy back this night, and suppress what could easily have become days or weeks at the hands of a lunatic once more.

  Given the relief that Scott had luckily escaped that fate this time, not least thanks to a certain enemy leader, he guessed he could live with another stupid rumor on certain mutant influencers' social media channels for a while.

*******************************************************************************

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive​

[callsignmuse]

THE MYTHIC BITCHES

Season 1, Episode 10 -Revelations

Season Finale

Cast: Sadie “Siren” Matthews, Bailey “Muse” Thompson, Phoenix, Rooster, Hangman, Bob, Lauren “Jolene” Bradshaw, Coyote

Warning: 

Summary: The girls set the trap… the only question is will it work?

Author’s Note: I’ve honestly had so much fun writing this! Season 2 coming soon. I love you guys so much! And special shout-out to Siren herself @cherrycola27 for being my wingman

Natasha “Phoenix” Trace:

Today was the big day. After the failure of the amusement park ambush we needed phase three to go off without a hitch. I offered up Hangman since I knew he would never fall into any trap and Siren would probably end up punching Lauren if she even touched Bob. We had been nursing Bailey’s bruised ego since Rooster basically split with her. She had been in hibernation mode for the past few days. She cried a lot in between but today she showed her face. Her eyes had red rims etched permanently around them from the hours she spent crying but today she served as the bait that we needed to catch a Rooster. 

Bailey invited him over to come get a few shirts he had left behind. He wasn’t thrilled about the invitation but he still went. It was Bailey he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to. There was a soft knock at the door and Muse went to answer it. She stiffened as soon as she saw his face. 

“Have you been crying?” He asked almost immediately as he took in her appearance. 

“Nope.” She lied even though it was obvious she had been bawling her eyes out every night. I was hiding in the hallway with Siren. I sent a quick text to Hangman telling him to move into the living room. He was in the backyard with Lauren casually flirting. I heard the back door open. It was time to spring the trap. 

“Jake, I had no idea you were interested. I thought it was just me.” Her voice flowed through the empty living room. Rooster was making his way towards them. He had put up the quiet sign with his finger to Bailey and listened in. 

“Does Phoenix bother you?” Hangman wondered as he placed a hand on her arm. The heat surprisingly didn’t rise within me. I trusted him entirely to pull this off. And I trusted him not to enjoy this too much. Hangman had been known for leaving his wingman, but I knew he would never leave me. 

“She doesn’t bother me, I just want you.” Lauren admitted as she launched herself forward in an attempt to kiss Jake. He pulled back so she would have to chase him. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Rooster made himself known now. 

“Brad! I - it was all Jake!” Lauren panicked and tried to place the blame elsewhere. The fury behind Bradley’s eyes told the truth. He had finally seen what we all have for this horribly extended visit. 

“That’s not what it looked like to me!” He threw his arms up. 

“Dude I was just trying to talk to her and see if Phoenix had been welcoming enough!” Jake threw his arms up playing the most innocent bystander in this situation. He played it well. 

“Lauren what the fuck are you doing?” Rooster was far from happy. Lauren had no answer really. 

“I get that we’re family but this- this is my family and you can’t come in and break things apart. We depend on each other to live when a matter of seconds is life or death!” 

He was pretty on point. There wasn’t anything that I would’ve told him to say differently. 

“I mean I even broke up with Bailey!” He seemed at a loss for words for his actions. 

“She wasn’t good enough for you anyway!” Lauren fought back now. I looked to gauge the reaction on Baileys face and I only saw fire where her eyes should be. Bailey cleared her throat but Rooster held out his hand telling her to cease the hunt before it started. 

“I think you’re the only one not good enough here. Bailey has risked her life to save mine time and time again and she’d do it without hesitation. She has literally flown herself into enemy fire to give me cover. After seeing this stunt I know for a fact that’s something you’re not willing to do. She’s too good for me.” He sighed before turning and facing her. 

“There’s nothing more than I can say besides I’m sorry. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. You know because of-“ 

“Goose. I know but Bradley you gotta remember that we work as a team. I’ve always got your back, I wouldn’t just give you false information because I was jealous.” Bailey stepped forward and tried to get him to understand. 

“And we scared the idea of her reporting your relationship right out of her! You can’t forget that part!” Siren chimed in from the hallway. Rooster hung his head. 

“I should’ve known you were lurking around here somewhere. Come out Siren….you too Phoenix!” Rooster sighed motioning us over. 

“You set me up!” Lauren was shook. Her face was almost comically surprised. 

“We warned you not to mess with The Mythics.” I told her plainly as my hand rejoined itself with Hangman’s. 

“You disrespected this family. You’re going to have to go Lauren. I’m sorry, maybe you just need some more time to grow up before you can come visit again.” Rooster stated as kindly as he could. If this wasn’t his cousin he would’ve already been shouting. He walked over and gave her a quick hug as she wiped some spare tears that fell onto her cheeks. 

“I have nowhere else to go.” She sobbed. 

“Hey party people what we getting into toni-“ Coyote walked in and took in the scene that unfolded before him. His voice trialing off from the excited bellow it was once before. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Great timing as always Coyote.” Jake teased. 

“You can stay in my house, you already have the key to it. Don’t trash it, just promise me you’ll actually work on some things. I won’t be here on base forever and when I see you next I need you to treat my girlfriend and my squadron with more respect.”

“Yes sir Lieutenant sir.” Bailey practically purred. She loved when he took charge. She also thought she could speak quietly. That wasn’t exactly the case and her words caught Roosters ears causing him to momentarily lose focus. 

He was gently walking her out of the house before closing the door on her. She was already on the phone calling her dad. The sound of the door closing was like a sweet symphony. Rooster wiped his face with his hands in his moment of stress. 

“It’s fine babe, we understand, no one’s mad at you. Well I take that back I am mad at you. Break up with me again and you’ll be very sorry Bradley Bradshaw.” Muse warned before pecking his cheek with a kiss. 

“Well I came over for food so..” 

“Sorry Javy I didn’t have time to cook with all the scheming I was doing.” Siren shrugged her shoulders sarcastically. 

“Did someone order some pizza?!” Bob asked as he burst through the door holding a tall stack of large pizzas. Rooster and Hangman could eat a pizza each easily. Every-time we ordered the delicacy, it was always a hefty bill.

“It is so good to have things back to normal around here.” I hummed as I nudged Jake’s jawline with my nose. He instinctively looked down at me with lips pursed. 

“You think I was wanting to kiss you?” I asked. 

“Yeah, well that’s what I wanted.”

I broke out into a smile erasing the serious demeanor I had prior. 

“That’s what I wanted too, I was just testing ya.”

“Oh you think I’m gonna chase after Lauren?” He chuckled holding me tighter in his embrace. 

“You would never, no offense Rooster.” I clarified. 

He put his hands up and leaned into Baileys touch as she rubbed his back in wide, slow circles. It was something she did to show him love but ease her own racing mind at the same time. 

“None taken, one day we’ll look back at this and laugh.”

“Yeah Bradshaw one day far in the future.” Bailey added on. 

“Look at us! This is just how we started this whole mess, sitting around a table eating dinner and talking. Now our course is almost finished. I’m with my Bobby Boy here. And Rooster finally manned up and labeled his relationship. I see growth here.” Siren gave out a round of silent mini claps for the group. 

“Who knows what trouble we’ll get into next.” I said with a wink.

[briamichellewrites]

77

During a phone conversation, Brad asked Mike if he knew anything about Angelina Jolie. He didn’t. Did you see anything about her in your dreams? No. Maybe Bria saw something that he didn’t know about. Ok, he would ask her. What Mike did know was that she didn’t seem like she had good intentions and was a man-eater. He didn’t like to judge people before he met them, that was just the vibe he got from her. Brad thanked him for his honesty.

Bria didn’t see anything, either. However, she agreed with Mike’s assessment of her. If he got too close to her, he would lose Mike. She seemed very manipulative, especially towards men. He would remember that. Thank you. He would consider both assessments when shooting his next movie with her. It was too late to back out since he was contractually obligated.

He would tell her he had a boyfriend he was loyal to. That was the truth. Even though they had just started dating, he felt comfortable with Mike. Enough to call him his boyfriend. He had until January of the following year to come up with something to keep her away from him.

Maybe Mike could visit him on the set. He was busy working on his band’s new album. They didn’t have a date that it needed to be finished, so they were working on writing songs and recording demos. The previous evening, he had fun shopping with Bria at Saks Fifth Avenue. They both went into the men’s department and tried on clothes.

They discovered they were the same size, so they shared clothes. He helped her with pricing and figuring out how much she could spend. She spent more than he did, which was okay. He paid for her dinner, while she paid the tip. They talked about their dreams and compared her net income. Between the two dreams, she would be a billionaire. One of the youngest at that. Maybe she could get a bank statement to show how much money was in her account.

Did she deposit the money Chester gave her? Yes, she did. Then, she should be close to being a billionaire! If not a billionaire already. That excited her! He laughed. Even though they weren’t on a date, it felt great doing something with his best friend. He would have to wear one of his new outfits the next day. His closet was almost full of flannels. That was not intentional.

They were just so comfortable, that he collected them. Phoenix teased him about that one time. He thought Brad would be interested in borrowing something from his closet. They did go over to the women’s department, but she wasn’t satisfied with cut-off shirts or pants that went too far down. Men’s clothing covered what she wanted covered. The next day, Chester asked how their shopping date was. It was awesome!

She spent more money than he did. What did she buy? She bought close to what he did. They discovered they were around the same size. Misty was disappointed that nothing was for her. They laughed. Poor girl. Yeah, it was a fun evening.

Bria was the youngest self-made billionaire at the age of only twenty years old! Her net income was estimated to be around one billion, five million dollars. She made her money from her inheritance, as well as from escorting. The money she earned from selling drugs from Chester was accounted for as money she earned from escorting. She wasn’t a gold digger and her bank account proved that. Despite her wealth, she was frugal with her money.

She didn’t have a private plane or multiple properties around the world. Instead of having an assistant, a personal chef, or a personal driver, she did everything herself. Forbes published an article about her and how she earned her money. They also wrote about her growing up in the foster care system, becoming emancipated at sixteen, and her frugality.

The person who interviewed her found her to be down to earth and humble, with a self-deprecating sense of humor. She could make jokes about herself and didn’t take herself too seriously. Bria could be anyone’s little sister or friend, who just happened to be extremely wealthy. That was how she came across in her interview. Her friends found that to be true. She had a magnetic personality and wasn’t afraid to keep them in line. They loved, feared, and respected her.

“The interviewer asked me what I was going to do with my wealth. My first instinct was to say hookers and cocaine, but then I decided that wouldn’t be appropriate.”

Brad, Mike, and Joe laughed. Brad jokingly asked her what it was like to be the youngest self-made billionaire. She didn’t even know she was a billionaire until Forbes contacted her for an interview! How did she feel about it? She thought it was insane! At first, she thought they had the wrong person. No, they didn’t. Rob was going to help her find a place for her money, instead of having it in one bank account. He thought that was dangerous because she could lose everything in the worst-case scenario.

He was thinking of having her invest some of her money into a company like Apple. Because she had a learning disability, he was going to explain everything in a way she could understand. Mike and Joe agreed he was the best person to talk to about that. He went to college to study accounting, so he would know what he was talking about.

“Apple would be a safe investment because they are constantly growing. Maybe even Disney or Starbucks or Target”, Joe said.

“I live at Target”, she joked.

“There you go. You’re investing in them without even knowing it.”

Mike and Brad laughed.

“I’ll tell Rob that when I see him next.”

The cats came in to see what the humans were up to. They had been taking an afternoon nap when they woke up to hear laughter. Slash was the first to investigate while Mama followed. Slash was a weird cat. That’s what she thought, anyway. He was always curious and getting himself into trouble. She was more sophisticated and careful. But, he was her little brother and she loved him. When she saw Brad, she meowed and pawed at his leg. He bent over, picked her up, and set her on his lap. Mike joked about him spoiling her. She was his girl. They laughed.

Joe asked what her trauma was. She took a moment to think. Besides being in foster care, she was sexually assaulted twice. She was also an alcoholic and a drug addict. That was all she could remember. Who assaulted her? She was only going to name one person. That was Richie Sambora. They were hanging out together at his place.

She slept with him because she felt like she didn’t have a choice. After, she tried overdosing on pills, but she was caught before she could take them. She was hospitalized for seventy-two hours. At the time, she had completed rehab for alcoholism and was in sober living. He invited her over under the guise of wanting to be her mentor. She considered it assault because he never asked for consent. Her suicide attempt was impulsive and not planned out.

Did she want to die? At the time, yes. But then, she decided she wanted to live. Mike remembered that because he remembered being so upset and disgusted by Richie for doing that to her. Her alcoholism started because she wasn’t happy. She was an alternative country music artist, who had everything she wanted but she still wasn’t happy.

How long was she an alcoholic? Five years. She finally got help because she found out that she was at risk of her organs failing. The band and Bradley Cooper, who was fucking awesome had an intervention for her at the studio.

“Bradley said something like ‘You’re better than this. You have so much potential that you can’t even imagine.’ It was at that point that I decided I needed help. So, if I ever meet him in this lifetime, it’s going to be awkward because I already know him but he doesn’t know me. I’m going to have to stop myself from going all fan girl on him.”

They laughed.

“How many cats have you had?”

“Oh my god. Eight. Bon Jovi, Cookies, Cream, Mama, Bert, Ernie, Mama and Slash.”

“You have two cats named Mama”, Brad asked.

“Yeah. The first one was a mother of two kittens, Bert and Ernie. I adopted the three of them because I didn’t want to separate them. Bon Jovi was my first kitten. She died from leukemia.”

It was after her death that she started drinking again. She had been sober for a few months. That was before she went into rehab. She had a lot of guilt as a part of her grief because she was her first kitten. It was in rehab she learned that her death wasn’t her fault. Were Cookies and Cream related? No, she adopted them separately. She got Cream for Cookies after she got sober because she wanted her to have a play mate. Mike asked what her trauma was called.

The name for it was Past Life Trauma. She also had generational trauma from her mother. That was why she was so anxious about being a mother because she didn’t want to continue that cycle. Her mother didn’t have a family support system and neither did she. She looked into the correlation between postpartum depression and drug relapse.

She thought that her mother had postpartum depression, which caused her to relapse back into her addiction. But, she didn’t have any evidence of that. Her previous life, she had been in the hospital for alcohol poisoning. She ended up going into a coma.

During her coma, she got to talk with her mother. At the time, she was dating Brad Delson. She told her how proud she was of her and how much she loved Brad for her. Then, she told her that it wasn’t her time. She remembered going back into her body and waking up at Mike’s house. Why was she there? He invited her and her cats to live with him because she was having trouble with her mental health. How many cats? Just two. They laughed.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia