#darlin’ 2019

[horrorlesbians]

Darlin’ (2019)

[sesiondemadrugada]

Darlin’ (Pollyanna McIntosh, 2019).

[fanofspooky]

Darlin'

2019 • R • 1h40m

Found at a Catholic hospital filthy and ferocious, feral teenager Darlin' is whisked off to a care home run by The Bishop and his obedient nuns, where she's to be rehabilitated into a "good girl" as an example of the miraculous work of the Church. But Darlin' holds a secret darker than the "sins" she is threatened with, and she is not traveling alone. The Woman who raised her, equally fierce and feral, is ever present in the shadows of Darlin's psyche and is determined to come for her no matter who tries to get in her way.

[splatteronmywalls]

[abs0luteb4stard]

● W A T C H I N G ●

[hoodietypinggg]

Shiu kong x reader x Toji Fushiguro

A/N: pffffffff last time i tried writing was like in,,,,,,,, 2019-2020 please go easy on me. Shat this at ass o'clock when i felt particularly very much single, barely proof read HAHA iss v self-indulgent. Probably most likely ooc.

Enjoy

-Fluff-

Imagine feeling the bed dip and covers rustle around you through the haze of sleep, eyeballs rolling around but lids kept shut with the weight of dreams. A light kiss is deposited on you cheek. It's Shiu sliding in for the night after having finished whatever was on his tasks list of the day, bringing icy fingers and the familiar scent of cigs and woody cologne into the little cocoon you've made for yourself.

"Sorry darlin', didn't mean to wake you up", he huffs with an audible grin when you let out an airy whine. You jolt at the feeling of his cold hands grip onto you as he moves you gently.

The man maneuvers as quick as possible to set you on his chest, your ear next to his heart and limbs and body comfortably settled to be his personal weighted blanket; your usual sleep setup. The covers are pulled up and over your back once again and one big paw of a hand cups the back of your neck to keep you close. A sigh of relief is felt at the top of your head as Shiu nuzzles into your hair and muscles visibly relaxing under you. Warmth increases under the blanket with the addition of another body on the mattress; for some reason, Shiu runs hot like a furnace but has colder extremities than Jack Frost.

You glance with blurry vision at the alarm by the bedside table, the red digits telling you that it's one of the rare nights where at least one of your boys gets home before the clubs down the street close. A yawn is pulled from you at the slowing rise and fall of Shiu' breath. Legs gently tangle together and you nuzzle closer into the crook where his chin and neck meet.

"Fancy to see you 'round here so 'rly," your voice crows and slurs with sleep still threatening to pull you under.

"Well lucky you, been missing m' pretty baby too much to accept another round of mahjong with the boys," Shiu chuckles. His hand at this point has warmed to a comfortable degree from your combined heat and he slides it down to your back to give you gentle rubs, "now go back to sleep."

Not much was needed to lull you back down, with the rumble of his voice purring out his reply and comforting arm weighting down on you, you were already halfway to dreamland.

.

The second awakening of the night is far less tender, as the last of your trio literally lets himself dogpile onto your sleeping forms. A wall of muscles comes falling down on your back, covering you up so much that anyone would've thought that there was just Shiu and Toji on the bed.

You startle out of your flowers and stars filled dream as the yelp you released gets cut silent from the sudden rush of air out of your lungs. Instincts kick in and you attempt to curl into yourself like an armadillo, only to drive your knee up into Shiu's unfortunate family jewels from your entangled position. The man's painful choke and tightening grip around your waist is enough to inform you of his misery. Contrasting those motions are the rhythmic contraction and release of Toji's abdomen from his silent laughter. His delight is also felt in the light shaking of the entire bed as he affectionately rubs and nuzzles his face against the back of your shoulder and nape.

"You're getting too lax shiu. Sleeping like the dead, wouldn't be able to protect our sweetheart from sneaky rats" Toji snickers, arms slowly tightening the hug he has you trapped in. You faintly feel him grin, imagining the slight stretch of his scar from his pleased expression.

The handler wheezes and lets out a cough at the comment.

"Fu-*cough*-fuck you, holy shit. Would've shot you if I didn't know better, you dick," true to his words, the heartbeat next to your ear is drumming away and shiu has his finger wrapped around the trigger above his head. "Besides, who else could get me passed out like this if not darlin'?"

Toji hums as if in agreement, though not stopping the affection he's been showering you, now adding kisses and nibbles wherever he can reach. They make you lightly giggle from the ticklish feeling. Your airy sounds of happiness fills the otherwise quiet room and the two men simply relish in it. Content of this little piece of heaven bestowed to them in the pits of Hell they call Earth.

"Nobody does it better than sweetheart."

Once finally satiated, Toji quickly removes his t-shirt and changes out of his day pants before slipping his way under the covers too. He pulls you from draping on Shiu to only half lying on your side and slides a hand up your sleep shirt to rest on your stomach. the press of his front to your back cements your spot between the two men and Toji takes the opportunity to litter more kisses on the back of your neck.

"Soft as a bunny and cute as a button, we're keeping you here fer sure," Shiu grunts as he rolls in a bit closer, delivering a peck of his own on your forehead. Toji expresses his agreement with a mean nip to the junction of your shoulder and neck as if marking their property.

"Fuck it, we're sleeping in," you barely hear your partner behind you mumbles, eyes already shut tight.

It's okay, tomorrow's a day off anyways.

[g0ry0re0]

"Dessert For Breakfast", Billy (Burn, 2019, Directed by Mike Gan) - Imagine

Description: [18+ MDNI!!] AU where Billy survives the film's events and is on the run with you, basically just one big cross-country road trip. Getting ready in the morning becomes very intimate. / Billy x AFAB!Reader

General Notes: Pure Smut, Established Relationship, AFAB Reader (no use of Y/N, reader does not wear a bra or binder, no mention of the reader’s chest at all actually), Second Person POV, Use Of Gender Neutral Nicknames (darlin', my love, pretty thing, honey, love), Use Of Curse Words (asshole, fucking, fuck, goddamn, dick, cunt (yes, in reference to the reader's vagina!)), Dom!Billy, Sub!Reader, Brief References To The Film (mention of bikers and his outfit), Fingering (reader), Oral Sex (reader), Penetrative Sex (reader), Spit Play, Tied To Bedpost W/ Belt (reader), Neighbors Complain At One Point, Creampie

Author's Note: Second time ever writing smut! I normally prefer to do a gender neutral reader, but I wanted to do something different this time. Let me know how I do! Any/all feedback is genuinely appreciated. As always, this was proofread by @anal-spaghetti-monster (basically my collaborator at this point). Also, give some love to @freak-accident419 since they instilled the "blueberry pancake" thing in my mind with their Billy fic, lol. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2,870 Words

Getting ready in the morning always felt rushed as of lately. Bouncing from motel room to motel room in several different states never got any easier. Quickly packing bags, getting in a short shared shower, barely eating breakfast. Even trying to get a little personal time always made the mornings go by extra quickly. And, sure, the long car rides may seem like personal time, but they mostly consisted of sleeping for the passenger and mind-numbing driving for the other. This morning, though, you took your time. You both got up late, enjoyed your own separate showers, and got to get ready leisurely. It was nice. Things were finally beginning to feel safe again.

You stand in front of the sink, brushing your teeth. Soft music was coming from your phone when Billy walked in. He beams at you and puts an arm around your shoulders, standing by your side and looking at you in the mirror.

“Ready to go soon?” He asks, kissing the corner of your mouth.

He wipes off excess toothpaste from his lips with a slight frown. You let out a muffled laugh, spitting out a mix of saliva and toothpaste before rinsing your mouth out with some water. You turn to him.

“Yeah, I am.” You say, returning the kiss on his cheek.

His smile grows softer, turning to you and placing his hands on your hips.

“What sounds good for breakfast?” He cocks his head, inquiring.

He tenderly slid his hands up from your hips to your sides underneath your shirt.

“Hmmm…” You hum, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer.

“Blueberry pancakes,” you place a hand on his chest, “bacon… and some strong as hell coffee.”

You smile back, running your hand along his chest, mirroring his actions along your waist.

“What were you thinkin’, cowboy?”

He slowly moves you both so that you’re now pinned against the counter. You look up at him knowingly.

“I was thinkin’ of something a little different.”

He lifts you by the hips and places you on the counter, inserting himself in between your legs and pulling you to the edge, closer to him. He leans in and captures your lips in a fiery kiss, immediately running his tongue along your bottom lip and squeezing your hips. You break away briefly by pushing him on his chest.

“A little eager this morning, aren’t we?” You smirk as you speak against his lips.

He doesn’t respond before kissing you again, hungrier this time and trailing his hands down from your hips to your thighs. He runs his hands over the top of your thighs before moving one of his hands to your inner thigh, ghosting his fingers over your already pulsing core. You gasp into his mouth, allowing him to finally slip his tongue between your lips.

“So greedy…” You whisper as he finally breaks free to breathe, a trail of spit connecting the two of you.

He smiles and moves a hand up to swipe his thumb along your bottom lip, wiping away any saliva pooling there.

“Can’t help myself when you’re looking like that, darlin’.” He says, causing you to roll your eyes and playfully smack him on the chest.

He snickers and rests his hand where your thigh meets your groin, teasing his thumb over your mound again. He gently and broadly rubs your clit through your jeans, the little bit of stimulation through the dense cloth making you squirm. Your hips twitch against his thick fingers as he breathes hotly against your lips. His other hand reaches for the buttons on your pants, popping it open with a flick of his wrist and pulling your zipper down slowly, teasingly. You give a short whine and he smiles again.

“A little eager this morning, aren’t we?” He mimics your words, mocking your exact tone from earlier.

You scoff and he abruptly stops his actions, bringing his hand up to grip your chin.

“What was that, my love?” He asks teasingly.

You shake your head as much as you can in his grasp and he loosens his hand slightly.

“That’s what I thought…” He hums, softly running his thumb along your lips before moving his hands down your body.

He curls his fingers into the belt loops of your pants and you lift your hips off the counter, allowing him to gradually slip them down before tossing them somewhere on the bathroom floor. He pulls you even closer to the edge of the sink before placing open-mouthed kisses up your leg, licking his way from your ankle to your slick heat. He places a chaste kiss to your knee before making his way up to you completely. Billy leaves little love bites along your inner thighs, spreading you wider with his large, rough palms. You can’t help but pant and run a hand through his hair, tugging lightly on his roots and trying to pull him closer to your core. You can feel him grinning against your sensitive skin as he continues to mark you, biting and littering your thighs with what are sure to be red and purple spots.

“You- “

“Shh.” He commands softly against your skin, rubbing his hands soothingly along the marks he made.

He looks up at you and grabs a hold of the sides of your underwear and you lift your hips again. He yanks them down with more force than before and tosses them onto the cold linoleum floor. Billy looks up at you one last time before finally dragging his mouth to your sopping folds, licking a stripe up your slit, and then taking your bud in his mouth. You tug even harder on his hair, letting out meek moans as the pressure inside your stomach already starts to build. Groaning his name, you buck your hips up against his mouth, setting a consistent pace.

He trails his right hand up your leg again, pushing your legs further apart before ghosting his fingers over your skin, almost tickling you as he teases. His right hand moves further up before finally making its way to your heat. Running his middle and ring fingers through your lips, he gathers your wetness before slipping his fingers slowly into your entrance. You gasp as he pumps his fingers a few times, getting a feel for you. Curling his fingers upwards slowly but repetitively, all the while his mouth is still wrapped around your clit. He hums against you as you put a leg over his shoulder, wanting him even closer. You lean back against the mirror behind you, feeling the chilly glass press against your heated skin, cooling you down slightly.

Goosebumps litter your skin from the combined pleasure and the cold mirror. Whimpers fill up the space of the tiny bathroom, as well as the wet sounds of Billy’s mouth against your core and his fingers inside of you. The noises only served to fuel the fire in the pit of your stomach, Billy’s too. You look down and see Billy shaking lightly, he needs you so badly. Your hand tangles in his hair tighter at the information as you whimper. Billy moans against you again when his fingers increase their speed against that spot inside of you.

You can already feel your orgasm bubbling up, your muscles tensing as he brings you closer and closer. You moan loud enough to know that the neighbors will be upset, but you don’t really care anymore. With a final curl of his fingers and one last hum against your clit, you come undone. Squeezing your thighs around his head and throwing your head back against the mirror with a soft, faint “thump”.

“Billy!” You cry out, tugging on his hair.

He guides you through it, slowing his relentless abuse to your bud and gently taking his fingers out of you. He presses one final kiss to your sopping core before coming back up. Licking his fingers clean and placing his free hand on your waist, he smirks knowingly. The cocky asshole knows exactly what he’s doing. He brings his fingers out of his mouth with a “pop” and places his other hand on your waist as well. You could feel the spit on his hand, once again cooling down that one area of skin on your body.

“How ‘ya doin’, pretty thing?” He inquires with a sneer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You respond by wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer and down for a passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, adding to the heightened sensual air about the both of you. You moan into his mouth and Billy bucks his hips against you. The feel of his jeans on your clit drives you crazy, almost to the point of pain. You tug on his shirt, trying to pull him even closer but he pulls away, chuckling.

“Seems like you’re doin’ pretty well, then, huh?”

He grabs your hips and slides you off of the counter, walking backward as he tugs you towards the adjacent bedroom. You groan, sitting down on the bed as he takes your shirt off.

“We were supposed to leave soon, Billy…” You whine, lifting your arms and watching as he lowers your shirt onto the carpeted floor.

He smirks, taking off his jacket and gently dropping it near your shirt.

“Yeah… but we got time. I don’t see any stupid fucking bikers around, do you?” He responds, unbuttoning his shirt as you crawl back on the bed.

You roll your eyes, seemingly annoyed at his callousness, making him laugh a bit. Billy tears off his shirt before crawling toward you as you lay against the pillows. He slots himself between your legs and hovers above you, resting his arms on either side of your head and looking down at you, smiling back. You don’t even give him a chance to think about his next move before you reach down and start unbuckling his belt, a little too eagerly. This makes him laugh again and he begins to help you with his belt, sitting up to tear it out of the belt loops. He roughly grabs both your wrists and affixes them to the headboard with his belt, tightening it once your hands are secure. You look up at your hands in a slight daze as he leans down to kiss along your jaw, making his way to your mouth.

Once he finally does, you immediately give in, moving your mouth slowly against his and taking as much as he was willing to give you. He seems to kiss back just as eagerly, though not wanting to show it outwardly too much. You fight against the belt restricting your hands, wanting to be able to touch him. You wanted to grab him by the shoulders, his biceps, rest your hands on his soft stomach, follow your fingers along his happy trail. Billy notices your struggle and starts unbuttoning his pants. He pulls off his jeans and boxers at the same time, throwing them somewhere on the motel room floor before inserting himself between your legs again. He grabs your hips and adjusts the both of you a bit until he’s lined up with your entrance.

“You good, honey?” He asks, running his length through your folds teasingly.

You whimper, bucking your hips up in an attempt to meet his but he rests a hand on your stomach.

“Patience is a virtue, darlin’,” Billy leans in close to your ear. “And we both know you need some more of that, don’t we?”

You groan and try bucking your hips up again, stopped repeatedly by his hand which has now slipped down to the top of your mound, his thumb close to your clit. He “tsks” at you, bringing his thumb down to your nub again as he slowly enters you. You both moan out, your mouth dropping open slightly as you look up at him in desperation. The exertion from your previous orgasm causes you to pant a little and makes it extra hard for Billy to remain in control.

“F- fuck… every time…” He chuckles weakly, staying still for a while.

You yank against the belt with a gasp as he finally starts to move, pumping himself in and out of you slowly with ease. He uses his thumb to rub against your clit again, matching the circling with his pace. The sound of his hips slapping against yours and the wetness continuously gathering in between your thighs was driving the both of you insane. Your plush thighs wrap around his hips, making him go ever so slightly faster.

You throw your head back, closing your eyes. Billy sees this and immediately grips your chin again, just as hard as the first time causing your eyes to snap open, pleading. You weren’t entirely sure what you were begging for, you just knew you wanted- no, needed more. Billy looks at you, sensing your need, your craving. He holds your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger, still delivering a steady pace of thrusts to your core, and gently coaxing your mouth open. Before you know it, he lets a glob of saliva drip from his mouth, letting it fall into your ready mouth before he kisses you roughly. Spit was slightly spreading between the both of your lips, building up before dripping down the side of your face and falling onto the pillow.

“Jesus, that’s so good,” he slurs against your wet lips. “ That’s so fucking good. You’re doin’ so good for me.”

He groans into your mouth, increasing his pace. The hand from your chin trails down your body, pinning your hips down with a steady force. His other hand keeps a steady pace on your clit. Your eyes start to roll into the back of your head as you feel your orgasm building again, an orgasm way more intense than you’ve ever felt before. Billy, constantly changing his mind, takes the hand attached to your hip and he grips the headboard near your hands, causing it to hit the wall repeatedly. The creaking bed, Billy’s grunts of exertion, your weak noises with every thrust, it was almost too much to bear.

“Goddamn- “ He pants, cutting himself off. “God- you and this tight fucking cunt are gonna be the death of me.”

You could almost hear a muffled “shut the fuck up” on the other side of the wall in your trance, but the words go unacknowledged by the both of you. Billy seemingly makes his noises more apparent now, out of spite or pleasure, you’re not sure. Your feeble noises of ecstasy get louder with every thrust as you pull even harder against the belt around your wrists. Your sopping heat only seems to suck him in more and more the closer you both get, Billy starting to gasp slightly now from the labor. You look up at him, absolutely wrecked. Strands of his once gelled-back hair were falling in front of his face, spit was glistening against his lips, and his cheeks were flushed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone look so fucking hot in your entire life. Little did you know, he thought the same thing about you looking so wrecked, just for him.

“You gonna cum for me, honey?” He grabs your wrists. “You gonna squeeze my cock so fucking good, right?”

That was the last thing you heard before coming undone, faster than either of you anticipated, you tightened your legs around him. You ball your hands into fists while screaming his name again. Billy’s thrusts falter as he comes undone with you, feeling you pulsing around him as he lets out a guttural moan. He continues to move inside of you, pushing his cum deeper, though stopping his relentless abuse to your clit the more you become sensitive. He eventually slows his thrusts as well before pulling out of you. You whimper slightly at the loss and the feeling of your mixed releases dripping out of you before Billy plops down tiredly by your side.

You stop pulling on the restraints in your weakened state, doing what you can to catch your breath while Billy does the same. You lay in silence for a few minutes, the sound of your breathing and the faint music coming from the bathroom the only noise being heard in the cramped, dingy motel room. You could almost hear a muffled “finally” coming from the other side of the wall as well, making you laugh softly. Eventually, the smell of sex invading your senses, you find the energy to pull on the belt again. This jerks the headboard and makes Billy jolt against the pillows, lulling him out of his sleep.

“You dick!” You gasp, “You were just gonna leave me here?”

He gives a frail laugh, loosening his belt and tossing it somewhere on the old carpet. You rub your wrists.

“I wasn’t, love. I was just…” He pauses, snaking an arm around your waist. “Resting my eyes.”

You scoff, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him closer while you run your other hand through his sweaty hair. “Sure, love. Sure…”

Masterlist Link

Divider: saradika and saradika-graphics on tumblr

Gif: lomapacks on tumblr

[persephone11110]

rain is a good thing

Jake‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader

PROLOGUE

warnings: breaking up, asshole jake seresin, pre-tpg.m, past child abuse, hurt people hurt people—NOT DEFENDING HIM, lack of communication skills, both oc and jake have self esteem issues, hurt no comfort, bradley is mentioned , mentions of alcohol->drinking and being slightly drunk, set in 2018-2019

author note: prologue and unfortunately please expect spelling errors, I want to make sure everyone knows that the prologue m is set atleast 2yrs before top gun maverick and the actual of chapters are before and after the uranium mission . Also i might tweak the ending a lil bit i cant tell If i I like it Thank you for reading— enjoy :)

WC: 900

Next

Series Masterlist

–

“I’d never a break promise darlin, especially not to my girl”.

You sheded more tears than any human ever has, you sat at the table watching the clock on the stove hit 11pm. The candle you once had lit was now out along with the patience you had for Jake this was the third time he’s broken his promise, he assured you he’d be home three hours ago for the nice meal you made.

The two of you would finally have the chance to just be girlfriend and boyfriend. The worry about work and stress would be put aside for once, Jake even promised you he wouldn’t bring up Bradshaw and how much he hated him.“Fucking hate him”.

You tried to not doubt your boyfriend word, you knew how much Jake worked and you knew he deserved the biggest break. Yet you couldn’t help but realize how much time he’s been spendin at the hard deck instead of the apartment you both shared.

Was this Jake way of telling you that he didn’t love you anymore, you tried to think of a time were theres been so much distance between you and him, and you couldn’t think of one.

Maybe your mom was right, maybe you weren’t destined for the love.

Why didn’t Jake Seresin love you anymore?

You were to busy wiping at your face to hear the door slam or him slurring your name. “Y/n I’m home!”.

You were ripping clothes off the hanger throwing them into a bag you found on the floor. You really thought he loved you—you should’ve know better a man like Jacob Seresin doesn’t love, he just takes and takes until the shadow of what used to be you is left lingering.

“Baby you okay?” he startles you out of a bubble of self-pity. “Y/n we can eat now…I’m home”. He goes to wrap his arm around your waist and you move from him.

His eyes widened at the bag of clothes on the bed.“What are you doing baby, are we going somewhere?”.

He’s looking down at you and your staring at those piercing green eyes that made you falling in love him in the first place. The green eyes he used to get himself out of trouble with.

“I’m going somewhere not you”. Already turned around you miss the way his mouth replicated a fish blowing bubbles.

“C’mon baby just let me heat the up food and it’ll be fine”. He trys to touch you again on but on your shoulder, and again you jerked away from him.

Drunk or not Jake realized you weren’t happy with him again. “I’m really sorry Y/n my phone died while I was there”. He throws a lame excuse at you hoping you take it like you did the last two times.

You pressed your tongue into side of your cheek. Not wanting to cry again, you shrugged him off instead. “Its okay Jake Its just I can’t keep doing this with you.”

He nose wrinkled in confusion,“Y/n what are you talking about you can’t keep doing this?”.

You let the shirt fall out of your hand before turning back around to him. “All I asked for was a dinner with the man I loved, I didn’t ask for a luxurious gift— I didn’t ask for a expensive vacation— I just wanted to be with the man I loved”.

The color drained out of his face.

“Y/n you can’t walk away from me just because it got hard”. His voice laced with anger,“Look I’m sorry I’ve been stressing over being a possible candidate for top gun”.

You frowned instantly,“I’m not walking away because it got hard, I’m walking away because you already walked away first from the relationship Seresin”.

“Y/n please….”. You already made it up your mind that Jake didn’t deserve a chance to explain more.

“I thought you be different— you promised me you different from the men that hurt us”. tears filled your eyes,“You just broke my heart in a way I didn’t think was possible”. You watched the sadness appear on Jakes face.

“Y/n please let me make it up to you I know the last two times I’ve broken my promise but give me tonight and you can watch me choose you”.

You stared at him as he put your bag at the edge of the bed. You allowed him to drag into the bed you both shared, “I love you Y/n please forgive me”. He whispered in the dark.

You were up before him, staring at him as he slept.

Jake how no idea what he was expecting when he woke up the next morning. Reaching our for you he felt a crinkly paper -he also noticed your bag wasn’t were he put it last night. “I’m sorry Jake looks like we both broke a promise”.

The rain hitting the windows lulled him back to sleep as Jake cried, he just lost the girl he loved and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

You laid on your ole crappy couch with Jakes Texas sweatshirt in your arms. The smell of him lingered around in your apartment, the sheets and the comforter, and now the sweatshirt you accidentally stole from him.

Watch me lose you.

[glennk56]

Jeff Pope

Jeff Pope is a big ginger bear. His film career started in 2005 with a small role in Hustle & Flow. (no photo) He has played a wide range of characters and started getting better roles when he got heavier. He is proof that a full beard can determine the character.

Here is Jeff Pope playing an angry homeowner in 99 Homes in 2014.

Jeff Pope in fake beard in Action/Drama/Comedy film Bad Asses on the Bayou in 2015. That is Keith Loneker on the left.

Jeff Pope in Return to Sender in 2015.

Jeff Pope in NCIS: New Orleans 2;11 (Blue Christmas) in 2015.

Jeff Pope in TV Series Hap and Leonard in 2016. Jeff appeared in 4 episodes in season 1. Here his character loses his pants to the mud.

Jeff Pope as a policeman in Assassination Nation in 2018.

Jeff Pope as a pharmacy manager in the Crime/Thriller Back Roads in 2018.

Jeff Pope as the moderator in a Comicon event in Action/Comedy Supercon in 2018.

Jeff Pope as a clown in the Horror/Slasher film Darlin' in 2019.

Jeff Pope as a foreman in Crime/Drama Into the Ashes in 2019.

Jeff Pope as high school teacher teaching about STD in Eat Brains Love in 2019.

Jeff Pope as clerical police sergeant in Mindhunter 2;8 in 2019.

Jeff Pope in 2020 in American Reject about an also ran in an American Idol type show.

Jeff Pope in the 2021 mini-series The Underground Railroad as an enforcer.

Jeff Pope as William Howard Taft in Brazilian Mini-Series O Hóspede Americano (The American Guest) in 2021.

Jeff Pope in TV Series Interview with the Vampire in 2022.

[coconutcordiale]

“If I could stop loving you, I would.” With any of the pilots

love that's a real long shot

pairing- hangman x pilot!reader (callsign violet)

synopsis- you and jake keep running into each other over the years and jake just can’t seem to let you go

warnings- fwb! happy ending!!! angst! 18+ for slight smuttiness (if you read my normal stuff this is extremely tame comparatively - just want to manage expectations 😉) light enemies to it’s just sex to pining to lovers. naval inaccuracies but it's my pretend world y'all just live in it, sad jake's pov but he's pretty he'll be fine

length- 7.7k

an- companion piece to this 0.6k drabble one time thing but that is not required reading - pretty much all of ott is revisited in this fic

i really, really don’t know how I feel about this one but i've been tinkering and agonizing over it forever and i have to be done so LOL here ya go

credit for the cs violet goes to my soulmate @justfandomwritings thank you for loving angst as much as i do, thank you for being brilliant

title courtesy of it ain't over - the black keys

tagging those that were upset with me for the ending of one time thing - @unstablecaffeinatedmind / @ahopelessromanticwritersworld / @gigisimsonmars / @flashyourgreeneyesatme / @forever-sleepy-sloth / @gingerbreadandpaper / @lovingjakeseresin

also - @mandylove1000 ily

Virginia Beach, 2019

Jake’s glad the packed bar gives him enough cover to stay hidden when he overhears Bradshaw asking his new roommate if she’s interested in him.

He bites back a huff of annoyance, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He talked to her for all of five seconds before mustache boy strutted up to make it very clear his friend was off-limits, was barely even flirting with her. Charming smiles are basically a reflex of his at this point.

“That man has never given a girl an orgasm.”

Jake rolls his eyes but keeps his mouth shut. It’s categorically untrue, but who cares what Bradshaw’s roommate thinks?

Your back is to him too, but he hears you hum in agreement, stifling a laugh. Jake’s hackles suddenly raise, and he briefly wonders why it irritates him so much that you seem to agree with that statement.

Rooster chokes on his beer. “Excuse me?”

She shrugs, fidgeting with her drink. “You were asking if I was into your friend – Hangman, was it? That should be enough of an answer.”

“I don’t really want to think about Seresin’s like in bed.”

“You’re breaking my heart, little bird,” Jake drawls from behind Rooster, figuring he should let you guys know of his presence before you get any further. “And here I thought we had something special.”

You roll your eyes before pushing your stool back. “Well, that’s my cue to leave.”

Jake immediately wonders what the appropriate amount of time is before he can excuse himself too.

+

“If you wanted to know what I’m like behind closed doors, you could’ve just asked, darlin’,” Jake murmurs from behind you, having found the corner of the bar you disappeared to. “I’d be happy to give you a lesson. I’m very hands-on.”

“Hard pass, Hangman.”

He smiles lazily, turning the charm up to full wattage and leaning on the bar next to you. Not close enough to make you uncomfortable, but enough to make you avert your eyes from his bicep and shift a little in your seat.

“I have a pretty good idea already.”

His smirk goes a little sharp around the edges, a predator locking in his prey. “That so? And what idea might that be?”

You raise an eyebrow. The derision you manage to convey in one unimpressed glance goes straight to his cock.

His eyes flash, fingers clenching around his beer, but he makes sure the infamous smirk stays put. “Think you’ve got me figured out?”

You shrug. “Guys that look like you are rarely anything more than a disappointment in bed.”

He smiles at that, leaning towards playful instead of goading, wondering if you’ve realized what you just admitted. “I think you’re pretty too, sweetheart.”

“You’re intelligent enough to know what you look like. It’d be stupid to pretend otherwise.”

He rolls his beer between his palms, gaze far away and calculating.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” He asks, feigned innocence taking over as he brings his eyes back to you.

“Stop thinking about how you’re gonna get me to sleep with you.”

The problem for you is, Jake sees the way you look at him. And it’s nothing like the polite boredom he’s witnessed you grace guys with when they truly don’t have a chance with you.

“Tell me one thing, Violet,” he says, your callsign rolling off his tongue like honey. “Why is it that you’re so nice to everyone else, but so mean to me?”

“Maybe I just don’t like you that much,” you answer, but the barbs in your words are undermined by the way your eyes dart to his chest. He wants to pat himself on the back for going home to change out of his flight suit and into a threadbare grey t-shirt before coming out tonight.

Jake purses his lips, nodding like he’s seriously considering your words, leaning in, and lowering his voice. “Or maybe, you like me a little more than you’d care to admit.”

You shoot him a dirty look for invading your space. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?”

Your thighs press together, almost imperceptibly. If he wasn’t completely attuned to you, he probably would’ve missed it.

Bingo.

“Tell me to fuck off and I will,” Jake rumbles, mouth ghosting over your ear now, too close to be played off as a joke. “Or let me prove you wrong.”

When you lift your eyes to meet his, refusing to shy away from him towering over you in your seat, there’s something dark, something glazed taking them over.

“A one-time thing and I’ll never bring it up again,” Jake promises. “I have new orders for Lemoore anyways; I leave in two days.”

“Fuck,” you whisper. “Take me home before I change my mind, Seresin.”

+

You’ve been gripping his hair for what seems like hours, thighs still shaking where they’re bracketed around Jake’s head.

“What was it – I’ve never given a girl an orgasm?” He asks smugly. “I must be some kind of prodigy, then.”

“Don’t ruin my afterglow,” you manage, voice hoarse. You’re still far too coherent for his liking, and Jake ducks his head back down, savoring the broken moan that rips from your throat.

He doesn’t stop until the only word you can form is his name.

North Island, 2020

“Look who showed up,” Jake calls from across the Hard Deck, eyes running down your body. He shifts, adjusting himself as subtly as he can. “If it ain’t Violet.”

As generic as your uniform is, all he can picture now is the body he knows lies beneath it.

“Hangman,” you say, not quite able to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Glad to see we have a runner-up for the TOPGUN trophy.”

You look almost, dare he say, fond? “Your ego hasn’t dimmed a bit, has it Hang?”

Jake gives you another obvious once-over, smirking to balance out the warmth he can’t keep out of his voice. “Good to see you, sweetheart.”

+

Jake’s skin has been buzzing all night, high off his win, drunk off being within inches of you outside the Hard Deck after thirteen weeks of having you just out of arm’s reach.

“Congratulations,” you say, and you don’t even seem that sore about it. Your eyes linger on where his shirt has slowly been coming unbuttoned as the night wears on when you add, “Can’t believe you beat me for first place.”

“An inevitability, darlin’.” Jake leans in, pleased to see your mouth part in his proximity. “Don’t tell anyone, but I might’ve worried you were gonna give me a run for my money for a second there.”

You scoff, but don’t move away, if anything you sway closer. His fingers twitch at his sides, fighting to pull you against him, aching to run his hands up your bare legs and under your flimsy sundress, to see if you’re as wet as the heat in your eyes suggests.

You turn to face the ocean, which just pushes your hips in closer to him and makes Jake’s mouth water. “Obviously. You barely won.”

He winks, knowing you’re keeping tabs on him from your periphery even as you pretend to study the crashing waves in front of you. “That’ll be our secret. Care to congratulate me in private?”

“Thought you said that was a one-time thing, Seresin.” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice and in that moment, Jake knows he’s won for the second time today.

“Shut up and meet me at my truck.”

You smirk, turning on your heel without another word.

Jake doesn’t take his time with you this time. Only immense self restraint and the threat of being slapped with a public indecency charge keeps him from bending you over in the parking lot of the Hard Deck.

It doesn’t help that you seem less than willing to wait too, running delicate fingers along the inseam of his jeans, letting your skirt ride higher and higher as you shift in the passenger seat, giggling as he swerves when he catches a glimpse of red lace between your thighs.

By the time you reach his house you’re practically dragging him up the stairs by his belt loops, looking like you’re heading for the bedroom before he pushes you back up against the front door and takes you right there.

The second round you only make it as far as the couch, but he at least manages to get your clothes all the way off.

When you finally end up in his bed you’re both still panting and spent, Jake curling around you even though he’s tacky with sweat.

“I’ll be in Lemoore, now that I’m done with TOPGUN,” you whisper when you’re forming coherent sentences again, so quiet he can hardly hear you over the wind whipping against his bedroom window. “I think it’s short term, but we’ll see.”

Something warm lights up in Jake that he doesn’t want to examine very closely. “Good, everyone there is shit at pool. I’m in need of some actual competition.”

You smile against his skin and he drops a kiss to the top of your head, wondering if you can feel his heart speeding up.

Lemoore, 2021

You’re tracing mindless shapes across Jake’s chest, playing with his chest hair when you rip the rug out from underneath him.

“Got my new orders.”

It’s always amused him how fond you are of his chest hair, so it takes a few seconds for your words to sink in. When he does, his entire body flashes hot, then cold. He hopes you don’t notice the rigidity suddenly running through him. “When do you leave?”

Your face is blank, frustratingly neutral. “Tomorrow.”

Jake takes as deep of a breath as he can manage without being noticeable. Which given your proximity to his chest, is not very. He wants to be mad you didn’t tell him sooner, but the rational part of his brain reminds him he has no right to be.

“Where to?” He asks after a few beats of silence when he’s pretty sure it’ll come out even.

“Fallon.”

The scoff he lets out is genuine, at least. “Gross.”

Your indifference breaks as you giggle against his skin at his derision and he forgets that this is the last time he’ll get to have you like this. For now, at least.

“Are you spending the night?”

Jake doesn’t know why you ask anymore, in the last year he’s said no to sleeping in your bed zero times. He's turned down the opportunity to save you from sleazy guys hitting on you in dive bars even less than that - which is to say he does it without being asked and without even checking if you want his help anymore. Tact really is his middle name.

But like always, you ask and like always, he fights to keep the eagerness out of his voice. He’s fortunate to have decades of practice of keeping his tone level under his belt. “If you want me to.”

“I do,” you whisper, face still tucked into him, but he manages to see your lips purse, looking like you want to say more.

You don’t, though, and Jake hides his smile in your hair rather than commenting.

“Good. Wanna wake you up with my mouth on you,” he murmurs, trailing said mouth against your soft skin. He wills himself to say something else, to tell you he’ll miss you, that he doesn’t want whatever this is to end.

But his tongue stays stuck, arms tightening as his body says what his lips can’t.

North Island, 2022

Jake’s fists are clenched by his side, nails digging into his palms, pinpricks of pain the only thing keeping him from seeing red.

“I’m sorry?” You look confused. Scarlet edges into the corners of his vision. “That I didn’t tell you they sent me back to TOPGUN too? I haven’t seen you in almost a year, Jake.”

“Don’t act like we haven’t talked since then.” Jake doesn’t want to know what his face looks like, his normally careful façade shattered in favor of quiet outrage. “I think you know you were supposed to mention it.”

You had talked. Mostly sporadic, surface-level texts. Memes of an exasperated Chris Pine on his press tour he knew you would get a kick out of. In return, he received a graph detailing Leonardo DiCaprio’s age versus his girlfriends’, noting a clear age limit. You kept your jokes about him being a future Leo to a minimum, at least.

And on one memorable occasion, you called him drunk, and he got to talk to you for an hour after you snarkily admitted to missing him.

Neither of you mentioned it the next day.

You deflate. “Maybe. I don’t know what you want from me. We were always playing by your rules here.”

Jake’s mouth forms a tight line. “Right. My rules.”

Some bullshit he said, before Lemoore, way back in Oceana. Before you’d slept together, before TOPGUN, before he’d gotten to know the real you, before you’d gotten under his skin.

“Let’s just get through this mission, it’ll be easier if we’re not fighting. You do enough goading with Rooster.”

Jake’s so caught up in his own head that he doesn’t even bother to protest about Rooster. He’s grinding his teeth, jaw clenched so the rest of his body can remain still. He knows, on some level, that he’s probably overreacting. But he mentioned this return to TOPGUN to you last week and he can’t help but feel like he’s playing catch up when suddenly you’re here too.

If there’s one thing Hangman doesn’t allow, it’s being left behind.  

He doesn’t know why this is on the laundry list of things you refuse to talk about. That’s probably the most frustrating of it all. You’ve always been the puzzle he can’t quite figure out.

“We’ll stay out of each other’s way,” he finds himself saying, mask slipping back into place. “Focus on the mission.”

“Yeah, focus on the mission,” you echo, and Jake wonders if it feels hollow to you too.

+

Your head is on Jake’s chest again, bare legs tangled with his and the tension is finally bleeding from his body.

“Don’t like fighting with you,” you mumble, muffled by his arms wrapped around you.

“Ended well,” he jokes, magnanimously gesturing to your naked state just barely covered by the thin sheet. “Gave us a vigor we haven’t had in a while.”

He feels your cheeks grow warm where they’re pressed against his skin, clearly thinking back to the adrenaline laden, ‘thank God we’re alive sex’ that lead to the casualty of at least one lamp.

Jake silently thanks Maverick for being such a hot mess that the Navy is unlikely to worry about a few broken items in his bunk.  

He smirks at your embarrassment, as if falling into bed together is anything new. It’s the post-orgasm glow, he knows it is, but Jake feels the truth bubbling to the surface. Wouldn’t it be so easy not to let this end?

“Yeah.” You sigh, not meeting his eyes. “I don’t know. All the arguing, then making up so we can fool around. It’s time for us to grow up, don’t you think?”

Jake lets the words die on the tip of his tongue.

“Probably,” he manages.

He kisses you deeply, saying what his lips won’t. He doesn’t mean for it to turn heated; he just can’t bear to let you go yet.

Making love is the only way to describe what comes next. You’ve been at this for a long time, going on three years, and you’ve fucked; hard and fast and fiery. You’ve slept together; gentle and languid and easy.

It’s never felt quite like this.

When he slides into you for what he knows will be the last time, he tries to memorize every line of your face, every gasp from your parted lips, every flutter of your lashes. It’ll be months before he forgets the soft, unguarded shine of your eyes, the way your fingers feel tangled on the nape of his neck.

It feels like goodbye.

North Island, 2023

Your name is out of Jake’s mouth before he can stop himself, longing bowling over his reasoning abilities. Every urge to text you that he stomped out over the last year shows itself as a waste since any sense of self-preservation goes out the window once he lays his eyes on you.

It doesn’t hurt any less to see you without warning in Coronado, but at least this time he holds onto the reigns tightly enough to keep his tone level.

Your voice is happy when you turn towards him, and Jake tries not to outwardly react. “Hangman, hi.”

He wants to rush over, grab onto you, and never let go. Wants to tuck his nose into your hair, smell warm citrus, and have that niggle in the back of his brain soothed.

He waves as you stride towards him instead, boots cemented to the floor. “Back in California already?”

You chuckle, the adorable, lyrical sound raising goosebumps on his arms beneath his flight suit. “Thank God. Fallon’s a shithole.”

Jake’s mouth is open to respond when he clocks someone with curly dark hair behind you, moving forward decisively to your side.

“Babe,” the guy says, and Jake’s spine stiffens, noting the inch or two he has over this mystery guy out of reflex. “Hope you weren’t waiting long.”

There’s a split second where your expression shutters, where Jake thinks the fight or flight thrumming through him might not be necessary.

But as quickly as it shows up it’s gone, and he finds himself hoping the boom of jets taking off covers up the sound of his chest cracking open.

“Brandon, this is Hangman. We were in the same class at TOPGUN.”

Jake’s mouth is dry, tongue glued to the roof of his mouth as he internally winces at the obvious reduction of your history.  

“Riot,” Brandon says, sticking his hand out to shake. Jake tries not to crush the bones in his fingers.

Riot and Violet, he thinks sarcastically. How cute.

“You’re with the Eightballers.” Jake glances at his patches, making sure to keep his tone neutral.

Helicopters. He wants to roll his eyes.

Riot nods and you grin, letting it light up your whole face. “His friends can’t believe he ended up with a jet bro. Can you imagine the shit I have to endure, hanging out with these helo knuckleheads?”

You're unmistakably fond, and Jake feels bile rising in his throat. Mercifully, he’s saved from having to answer by a group of pilots trying to get your attention.

“It was good to see you." Your smile softens as you turn to leave, the sun shining around your head, painting you in gold.

He nods. “I’m sure I’ll see you guys around.”

Jake doesn’t sprint to get away from you, he’s too calculated for that, but it’s a near thing. If his strides are just a touch longer than normal, no one has to know.

North Island, 2024

“It’s nice, what you guys have,” Jake's mouth is saying outside the Hard Deck, celebrating your fucking engagement, of all things. The words taste like acid on his tongue.

“Don’t tell me, eternal bachelor, Jake Seresin is thinking about settling down. The women of California will be knocking down your front door.”

Jake wants to laugh, that that’s still what you think of him. But knowing it’ll just come out thick and wet, he keeps the noises to himself. He hasn’t done much in the last year to combat that reputation – Coronado’s smaller than he’d like and you’ve never seen him with the same girl twice because he hasn’t been with the same girl twice.

What’s that they say about old habits?

He takes another sip of his beer instead. “No.”

The teasing is still lighting up your features, barely visible in the moonlight. “Just an introspective mood then, huh? Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Thinking about what it might’ve been like.”

“What?”

“To be with you.”

You blink.

“You never gave me a shot,” Jake continues. He can’t help himself. “You were always convinced I wouldn’t pull the trigger.”

“I don’t think you would have.”

“I think you’re wrong. Doesn’t matter now though, does it?”

Jake tries to smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. He can’t help but reach out for you, squeezing your wrist one last time, studiously avoiding looking at the diamond on your other hand. “I’m happy for you, sweetheart.”

It’s only partially a lie.

+

Jake wishes he could say the noise wakes him up, but he’s already busy staring at his ceiling fan and its endless circles when he hears the pounding on his front door.

He knows it’ll be you before he finishes rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes.

“What the hell is your problem?”

Jake scrubs his hand over his chin, nose scrunching. “Sweetheart, it’s the middle of the night.”

You glower at him in response.

Whether it’s for the term of endearment or the fact that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut in the face of your blinding diamond ring or some combination of the two, he doesn’t know. What he does know is that you have every right to be mad at him, after spilling secrets he’s held close to his chest for years.

He sighs, wishing he could say the timing was an accident, but he can’t lie to himself quite that well. “Come inside at least, so the neighbors don’t call the cops.”

Apparently, your earlier question was rhetorical because the moment the door is closed, you’re rambling, talking at him, really. After a couple of minutes of watching you spew a bunch of nonsense to skirt around the issue at hand, with no end in sight, Jake sighs again and moves into the kitchen to pour himself a drink.

The wooden chair creaks as he settles his weight into it, sliding a glass over to you wordlessly. He’s not even sure you’ll notice it’s there, but you pick it up and gesticulate wildly with it before taking a sip. He’s somewhat impressed you don’t spill a drop.

You haven’t sat down, can’t seem to stop moving and Jake wishes he had a toothpick.

“We were so chaotic, Jake. We wouldn’t have worked.”

You finally look at him, taking a deep breath. Jake wonders about your lung capacity since you clearly haven’t breathed since barging into his off-base housing.

“I’m not arguing.”

You’re pacing back and forth, frustration bleeding from every pore. “What do you want me to say?”

Despite everything, Jake manages a smirk at that, albeit dimmer than normal. “I haven’t said anything for, like, ten entire minutes.”

The scowl he gets for that little comment is unbearably cute. He tries to ignore the tightening in his chest, stay in reality. “Is that what you stormed over to my house in the middle of the night to tell me, that we shouldn’t be together?”

You visibly deflate. “I don’t know why I’m here.”

There’s an inkling in the back of Jake’s brain that says he does, but he tells it to shut up.

You do not have a history of sticking around when it comes to verbal confrontation, and he’s painstakingly aware that one misstep could have you sprinting out the door.

It was something that worked well with you two, at the beginning, when everything was easy and fun. Blowing off steam with the competition, neither of you had ever been any good at talking so you figured why bother?

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Why now? Don’t you think your timing sucks a little bit?”

“I don’t know.”

It’s a lie.

He knows. As much as he’d like to tell himself he was overwhelmed, seeing the ring on your finger, watching everyone congratulate you and your fiancé, deep down he knows that’s not true.

Like everything he does, it was deliberate. There was something telling him this was his last chance. Is his last chance.

“If I could stop loving you, I would.”

You drop down into the chair across from him, stalling as your brain clearly restarts.

“Loving, present tense?”

There’s a weariness to your voice that he doesn’t like one bit, which makes his heart drop into his stomach as he’s reminded of the risk in telling you this. A calculated risk, but still a risk. One where he’s already bet big, his chips all in, but the river is flipping over, and his gut tells him before he sees it that it’s not the card he needs.

He takes a sip of his Balcones, hoping the burn scorches the rampage building beneath his ribs.

You purse your lips, waiting for a response.

Jake shrugs, but he’s aware it doesn’t have the effect he’s going for when the tension refuses to bleed from his shoulders.

You look like you’ve forgotten how to breathe and will pass out any minute now. Jake debates the merits of passing out to get out of the hell that is this confession.

He avoids your eyes instead. Coward, his brain screams at him, willing him to look up at meet your gaze. “I’ve tried to stop.”

Hangman makes strategic withdrawals. When someone can’t be needled into responding, he pulls back. This is different. He’s never backed down from confrontation out of fear and he hates it, like he’s just discovered his skin doesn’t quite fit him.

Your mouth opens and closes several times without a noise leaving and it frustrates him to no end. When he grits his teeth, he doesn’t know if it’s to hold back the pleading and desperation or frustration at having flayed himself open only to receive silence. “Say something.”

“I’m shipping out,” you tell him as if that’s any sort of answer. “On Monday.”

Jake blinks. That's only three days from now, he wants to say. Opens his mouth and closes it, once, twice. Doesn’t bother with a third time. It won't change anything.

Maybe that is his answer. Let this go, this hope he’s carried onto multiple aircraft carriers, through several states, across endless miles of sky.

This is you telling him to let you go. To start over.

Hawaii, 2025

Some things have changed in 2025. Jake’s ability to control his mouth at the sight of you is not one of them.

“Where’s our helo hero?”

He feels pretty good about that one. As hard as it is to see you, as much as his entire being aches to touch you, he’s going to be normal with you and your fiancé. He owes you that at least.

Unfortunately, for him or for you – he doesn’t know who suffers more at this point – normal includes the patented Hangman barbs he just can’t seem to let go of.

“Seresin,” Phoenix whispers harshly.

Jake immediately thinks he’s missing a puzzle piece, that he’s flying blind, making a drop decision without a laser. Unwilling to admit anything he does what he always does; he rolls his shoulders back and smirks.

You shift from on your feet, clearly uncomfortable. “He’s not coming.”

He can’t resist the jab, but it feels sticky in his mouth. “Aw, come on, the rest of us managed to sync up our leaves, but helos are just too important?”

Phoenix pinches the bridge of her nose, scowling at him, murder in her eyes. “Hangman, shut up.”

He tries to pretend that look doesn’t send chills down his spine, but he’s man enough to admit that Natasha Trace could put the fear of God into just about anyone.

You cough, shifting uncomfortably on your feet. “Uh, we broke up.”

Jake looks around, sure the world is suddenly tilting the wrong way on its axis. Fortunately, the rest of the group seems to be trickling in, so you and Phoenix don’t detect his crisis.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs quietly while Phoenix is distracted by Bradshaw strutting towards them. “I didn’t know.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile, a mask so familiar he feels like he’s staring into a mirror. Jake’s seen this cover before, it’s fight or flight. In the next few seconds, you’ll either be pretending he doesn’t exist, or you’ll be cutting through his armor with a few well-placed, very specific remarks.

You angle away from him, surveying Fanboy and Payback to your left. “All good, Hang.”

Guess it's flight.

+

Several bars and a few too many shots later, Coyote elbows Jake in the side. “What’s up with you tonight?”

“Just bored of beating y’all in darts,” Jake insists with a cocky grin he knows doesn’t reach his eyes. He just hopes no one notices.

Luckily for him, the only person that always sees straight through his bullshit smirks is you. And you’re at the bar, waiting patiently for the bartender, politely making conversation with some cheesy tourist.

A guy in an atrocious Hawaiian shirt (that he probably bought yesterday at the nearest ABC store, his internal monologue snidely adds) is clearly hitting on you and Jake forgot what it’s like to watch this. Because it’s been years since you were single, he forgot how it feels with sharks circling in the water around you, seeing you make small talk with strangers who have no reason to stop because you’re so goddamn kind and there’s no boyfriend for you to mention that will abruptly end their interest.

There’s a chance you actually want to talk to this chump, but Jake promptly tells that line of thought to kick rocks.

He kind of wants to throw himself into the ocean and drift away from this stupid vacation he should’ve never agreed to. Mrs. Lee will be fine watering his plants if he never comes back, right?

Because once upon a time, in a shitty bar in Lemoore, he’d save you so you wouldn’t have to turn anyone down and he’d tease you, that no one that’s seen you in the air, so quick and decisive and cunning, would ever believe you’d need a knight in shining armor to keep the creeps at bay. You’d tell him to shut up before dragging him out of there by his belt.

He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the memory. As it stands, the ocean is probably his best bet.

“Pool?” You ask when you return with a fresh mojito, sans cheesy Hawaiian shirt, and everyone rolls their eyes.

“Miss the Hard Deck already, Vi?” Fanboy teases.

Even though the ice between you hasn’t completely thawed yet, Jake ignores him in favor of getting up, making his way toward the table in silent agreement. He figures it’ll give him something to do besides staring at the side of your head.

If his mid-game trash talk is a little pointed, a little too on the nose; well, that’ll stay between the two of you.

+

Jake tenses as he hears the back door of the bar swing open behind him, footsteps heavy and likely belonging to a number of people he doesn’t want to explain his sour mood to right now.

“Surprised you and Vi aren’t still going at it at the pool table, thought it was about to be a rematch of TOPGUN in there,” Rooster says.

“Couldn’t beat me then, can’t beat me now." He chuckles out of reflex more than anything, but it feels hollow and forced. "Sometimes I just like to rile her up, get her out of that shell she always wears on the ground.”

Rooster hums in agreement. “Better than the last time I saw you two together. You barely looked at each other then.”

During the Maverick mission, Jake hears lingering in the silence in the humid Hawaii air.

“Sure,” the blond says, willing to agree to anything that stops this train in its tracks.  

“There a story there?” Rooster asks slowly, careful as ever.

“No,” he answers, but it’s rote, automatic. Even Bradshaw isn’t dense enough to miss the friction between you two, Jake knows that.

Rooster raises an eyebrow and Jake pointedly ignores him in favor of pulling a toothpick out of his pocket.

“How’s your girl, Bradshaw? Are you guys ever going to stop living in sin and tie the knot?”

He doesn’t comment on the abrupt change of subject, shrugging. “We’re happy. She’s pretty focused on her career right now. But when she’s ready.”

“I guess when you start fucking your roommate it’s nothing but sin from there on out, anyways, huh?”

The other man grins. “Jealous?’

Jake can’t help the way the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, an admission in its own right. Just not for what Rooster's implying. “Maybe.”

“Planning on coming after my girlfriend? Gotta tell you, Hangman, back in Virginia she was never very impressed by you.”

“She’s not my type. Any girl that’s into that atrocious caterpillar above your lip clearly has impaired vision.”

The other man brushes aside the dig easily. “That’s right. You only had eyes for Vi back then.”

Jake fights a full-body cringe, blaming the fact that he just walked straight into Rooster’s trap on the shots he took with Javy earlier. “What do you know? You hated me in Oceana.”

“Who says I don’t hate you now?”

“Touché.”

Rooster sighs, long-suffering like he can’t believe he’s the one that got saddled with the job of making sure Jake isn’t gonna lose it and ruin their vacation. “Seresin, you’re not the only one who notices things.”

Jake doesn’t need to dignify that with an answer. He’ll turn in his wings the day Rooster is more observant than him.

“Seems like forever ago, now, but I always thought she had a thing for you too.”

“I don’t know where you got that from, she was always arguing with me.”

Rooster waves it off. “Pulling your pigtails. Sound familiar?” He shoots him a knowing look that Jake pretends he doesn’t see, which unfortunately just gives mustache boy the idea he should continue.

“Yeah, sure,” Jake agrees, not without an air of sarcasm. Rooster may be right but it’s not like he’s going to genuinely admit that.

“D’you ever play Sudoku? My mom always loved it.”

Jake tries not to get whiplash, schooling his face into something neutral. He doesn’t know the ins and outs of Bradshaw’s childhood, but enough to know the other man’s putting a lot of faith in him by bringing his mom up at all.

“Did she?” he echoes, for lack of anything better to say.

Rooster nods, eyes far away, unfocused. “The thing about Sudoku is, you have to think about where you’re placing the numbers, so they don’t interfere with numbers in other boxes and lines.”

Jake barely bites back the word obviously, accompanied by a roll of his eyes.

“When we started dating, things weren’t always easy. We went from zero to sixty at the beginning, already living together.”

“But your mom loved sudoku,” Jake says, albeit dryly. “So, you knew to look at the puzzle as a whole.”

Rooster knocks their shoulders together in agreement, now you’re getting it.

“We had to slow down, take a look at what we were doing, where we were going, talk so that we didn’t fuck it up before it could even start.”

The blonde sighs. Leave it to Rooster to use some convoluted metaphor for Jake to parse out when his brain already feels like it’s been muddled alongside the mint in your mojitos.

“M’not the guy you should go to for relationship advice, normally.”

Jake snorts. “No shit.”

Rooster shoots him a bit of side-eye for that but nonetheless barrels on. “But I’ve known you and Vi a long time. For the better part of a decade.”

And isn’t that a thought, that Bradshaw of all people would be the one to know you and Jake better than anyone else?

“Is this your long-winded way of saying Vi and I need to slow down?”

He shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not. Just gotta figure out the key. Whatever that looks like for you guys.”

Jake turns it over in his head a few times, pushing down his every instinct to blow this off, to make a joke that breaks the intensity that’s thicker than the Hawaii humidity.

“Patience,” he mutters, because of course it would be that for Bradshaw. “Trusting you’ll get there when you get there, not letting the pressure get to you guys.”

“Hm?”

“That’s your key.”

“Yeah,” Rooster nods, before taking a pull of his drink. “But maybe our puzzles are different.”

Jake scrunches his nose, so unused to metaphors and convoluted thinking. His head is still a jumbled mess, unpacking everything he’s learned in the last twelve hours.

“Sometimes you have to drop down and take the shot. Don’t pretend like that’s not in your wheelhouse, Seresin. You’ve always held back with her. Too scared she’s the only one that can keep up with you, maybe. That she's the only one you won’t shake off your tail.”

Rooster is frighteningly insightful tonight. Jake resolves to switch to whatever he’s drinking the moment he goes back inside.

“What would you have me do?” He asks, maybe a little more abrupt than Rooster deserves.

“Basic, normal, human communication would be a start.”

Jake flips him off.

“Not letting her go again, would be the next.”

+

It only takes Jake one Dark ‘n’ Stormy (of course, Rooster's drinking something that Jake feels like an idiot ordering) to build up the courage to follow you outside.

“You called it off.”

It’s not what he planned to say when he saw you sneaking out the back door of the bar. He was going to let you bring it up, maybe goad you into telling him what happened.

But he’s starting to realize his puzzle is less of a Sudoku and more of a jigsaw. He doesn’t know all the steps to complete the goal and won’t know until he’s in the middle of it. Each step comes up when it needs to, and he’ll have to figure it out then.

At least, he thinks that’s the point Bradshaw was trying to make. You two have to talk about something real, at some point, but patience hasn’t gotten him anywhere with you in the last six years.

You nod, staring into the distance, eyes focused on the water ahead.

“When?”

“Right before I deployed.”

Jake balks. He’s not sure what he expected your answer to be, but it wasn’t that. “And you didn’t think that was something you should tell me?”

You look down at your hands. Jake suddenly feels like an idiot, for not thinking anything of your bare ring finger. He should’ve known. He just assumed you’d become one of the many pilots that’s allergic to wedding rings.

“I wasn’t—I didn’t know what to say.”

There’s something working its way into the edges of his earshot, a timer dinging, the buzz of the right answer chiming. He laughs but there’s no humor in it. It’s only because otherwise, he’ll scream, as the puzzle pieces finally fit together.

“That was almost a year ago,” he mutters because he’s a glutton for punishment.

You continue staring at the water, still refusing to meet his gaze.

And he remembers, you’ve never been good at saying the hard things. As fierce as you are in the air, you temper your words on the ground, too wary to cut someone to the bone.

Shrinking violet, he thinks, wondering who was even well-read enough in your first squadron to know that reference.

He takes your silence for the answer that it is, nodding curtly and squeezing your wrist before turning to go back inside, a mirror of the last time his chest felt like candy glass, just waiting for the director to start the next take so it could have its turn to be shattered.

You finally turn to him, eyes glassy with tears. “Jake, I…”

He can’t wait for you to finish, doesn’t want to hear an excuse. Patience has never been his strong suit.

Jake shakes his head, biting his cheek to keep the tears at bay. You’ve never seen him cry and he’ll die before he lets that change on the back patio of this kitschy tiki bar. “Message received, Vi.”

Fucking Rooster. This is why he put this off for so long. It’s excruciating.

“No, Jake—that’s not what I—”

“Loud and clear, Violet.”

“I didn’t know if you’d feel the same way once I was single,” you say suddenly, and it stops him in his tracks. “You seem to forget you never said anything until I was supposed to marry someone else.”

“Then why?”

“Why what?”

Jake wants to pull his hair out. “Why did you call off the fucking wedding? Because it sure as shit wasn’t for me or you would’ve mentioned it sometime in the last ten months.”

“I was with him for two years, Jake. That doesn’t just go away. I didn’t want to tell you before I knew where my own head was at.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Silence.

He turns to leave again, knowing the panic is showing itself in his shaky hands and uneven voice. Desperately, he wishes he had a toothpick or a beer label, something to tear at so his expression could remain carefully blank, tone collected.

When you finally speak again, your voice is thick and heavy with emotion, muffled by unshed tears. “Because.”

Jake raises an eyebrow, not bothering to figure out what expression is playing itself out on his face.

You clear your throat. You play with the hem of your dress. You look anywhere except his eyes.

Fight or flight, he says silently. What’s it gonna be, Vi?

He hopes to God it’s fight.

“Because you don’t marry someone when you’re in love with someone else.”

It takes a few seconds for the meaning of your words to register. He feels like he’s underwater, slow and sluggish, when he finally asks, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Takes more than love to make a relationship work, Jake.”

It’s funny, how you choose the words Jake has repeated to himself in his weaker moments. When he wondered if loving you was enough, if it could overcome that you two are so much more similar than anyone would guess. You might have a reputation for mincing your words, but he’s the only one that takes that for what it is – a mask. He’s spent enough time underneath one to recognize it when he sees it. It’s your way of keeping people at bay, staying in control, not letting anyone climb those walls you’ve spent so long carefully building.

Someone would have to take their hands off the controls, even for a second. Neither of you knows what it’s like to rely on someone else. To not take the lead. To let someone else have your back.

“You have to be able to give me a chance sometime,” he counters, as gently as he can manage. “Let go of the reigns enough to let me try. Trust me to take the shot.”

“I’ve never been very good at that, especially with you,” you say, nodding and Jake’s chest is getting lighter by the second, that you've thought about this. “But I also knew it was going to take me time, to work through ending things with him. I couldn’t ask you to wait.”

“I did anyways.”

You raise your eyes to him at that. “You did?”

“I told you if I could stop loving you, I would have already.”

You exhale shakily, fingers twitching like you want to touch him, but just falling short in the air between you. “I didn’t – By now I thought you would’ve – fuck, Jake. I didn’t think you meant that. Thought you just needed time to get over me.”

He wants to laugh, feels it twitching at the corners of his mouth. “In less than a year? Have you met you?”

You grin at that, rich and bright and open like he hasn’t seen in far too long, and there’s something loosening in your defensive posture. “A lot of people would say ten months is a long time.”

Jake feels fuzzy, from his chest to his fingers as he reaches to pull you into him. You fold back against him, and he ducks his face into your hair, nudging around to get his lips on your jaw, letting his words get muffled by your skin. “Ten months is a blip on the radar.”

He feels you melt into him and finds the courage to lay the rest of it on the line.

“Doesn’t matter anyways because it hasn’t been ten months. It’s been six years. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”

“Sorry, I’m so slow. Hard to keep up with the infamous Hangman. I hear he flies like his ass depends on it.” The teasing is back in your tone, and it spreads warmth all over him.

You reach up to where his forearm rests on your collarbones, where he can’t bear to loosen his hold on you, his fingers twisting in the strap of your tank top.

The entire line of your back is touching him, his nose tucked into the crook of your neck smelling citrus and vanilla and home, but it’s still not enough, as far as Jake is concerned. Too many years spent apart, too many moments with you just out of reach have him itching for more.

“It’s okay,” he breathes against your neck. “As long as we get here in the end.”

“I trust you,” you whisper. “You know that right?”

He nods, fighting a shiver as your hand drifts across from his elbow to his hand. You run your thumb across his pulse point, fingers encircling his wrist. You squeeze, and he feels your promise.

This time he gets to start over with you.

"because you don't marry someone when you're in love with someone else" was stolen from michael westen in burn notice, episode 2.15 sins of omission (fantastic show!) although i changed the wording a little bit

thanks for reading!

[texaschainsawmascara]

Darlin’ (2019)

[lovelytsunoda]

baby, it's cold outside // daniel ricciardo

summary: daniel and his wife celebrate his first christmas without f1 with their daughter while they reminisce on how they got there.

pairing: daniel ricciardo x wife! reader

warnings: just family holiday fluff : )

author's note: why do so many of my christmas collection stories involve kids?? ( george, daniel, charles )

it was bright outside when daniel ricciardo woke up, the bright australian sunrise streaming through the blinds as he stirred in the king sized bed, pulling his wife closer. she hummed in contentment, turning over to nuzzle her face into daniel's warm, bare chest.

"morning, darlin'" the former mclaren driver chuckled, pressing a kiss to y/n's forehead. "how did you sleep?"

"fine." she hummed, eyes still closed as y/n ricciardo absorbed her husband's warmth.

the couple were spending christmas in perth with daniel's parents. y/n had always loved the ricciardo family farm, and she knew that it had always been daniel's happy place. it was a place filled with love and laughter and it had meant even more to them since they had someone else to share it with.

their little girl, cadence elizabeth.

it was march of 2018 when y/n found out she was pregnant. the couple had been married for just under two years and had been casually trying to get pregnant, and daniel would have been lying if he said that news of his daughter's impending arrival hadn't been a big factor in his inevitable move to renault. they'd tried to shield their little bundle of joy from the media for as long as they could, protecting her from the horrors of the world while she was still too young to understand.

as if on cue, the door to the guest bedroom creaked open, floorboards bending under the weight of tiny feet. daniel and his wife giggled, trying to hide further underneath the blankets as they felt the mattress dip under the weight of their new guest as she jumped up and down.

"mommy! daddy! wake up, it's christmas!" cadence elizabeth ricciardo shouted with glee, a stuffed giraffe tucked underneath her arm as she jumped up and down, her parents giggling as daniel sat up and pulled the girl into his arms.

"good mornin' kiddo." daniel laughed, pressing a kiss to his daughter's forehead as cadence giggled. "let's let mommy sleep just a little longer, okay? we'll go find grandma and grandpa and make some breakfast, what do you say"?

"and then can we do presents?" cadence begged, eyes wide and pleading.

y/n laughed, the top of her head sticking out from underneath her blanket cocoon. "eat your breakfast first, cadence. and then we'll open the presents with your grandparents, okay?"

daniel got out of the bed, lifting cadence up so that the four-year-old could sit on his shoulders as he left the bedroom. y/n watched them go with a smile, her heart filled with love for the man she married, and the bundle of joy that they created.

life hadn't always been easy. cadence had been born in january of 2019, and while daniel had been able to take the rest of the month off, he eventually had to go back to work, flying to england to help renault prepare for the season. some of the hardest moments of those first few months had been hell for y/n, having to weather it on her own as daniel travelled the world.

and it hadn't always been easy for daniel either. he had missed cadence's first steps, her first words spoken over a video call.

y/n and cadence had been in the paddock a few times before the 2019 season ended, but never for very long before she had to leave cadence with daniel's pr rep, not wanting the noise and the energy levels to upset the poor darling.

twenty-twenty had been considerably harder, but at least daniel got to spend some of it at home, making up for all the lost moments as cadence reached her first birthday. because of covid logistics, y/n and the baby hadn't been able to come to any of the races, out of concern for cadence's fragile infant immune system.

and daniel thinks that might have been when he first started to consider settling down, slowing his life down a bit. he'd always wanted a family, and now he felt like he had been neglecting the ones that he loved the most.

so when it came down to it, looking more and more likely that he was going to be ousted from mclaren, the driver wondered if it might be for the better that he took some time off to reevaluate his career and spend more time with y/n and cadence.

y/n carefully tip toed her way down the large staircase that opened up into the main floor kitchen, sleeves of her sweater pulled over her fingertips and arms crossed over her chest as she stood in the doorway with a content smile on her face.

christmas carols played on the radio while daniel stood in front of the stove, dancing subtly as he fried up some eggs. cadence was sitting on the bar stool in front of the island, grace ricciardo braiding her granddaughters hair as cadence laughed at her father, a plate of scrambled eggs in front of her.

“merry christmas, candy.” y/n giggled, pressing a kiss to her daughters head. “did you sleep well?”

cadence grinned, looking up at her mother. “look, mummy, santa was here!”

“oh, wow!” y/n played along, looking over at the sparkling christmas tree. part of her surprise was genuine, as she didn’t expect grace and joe to have bought cadence so many things. “I think santa is spoiling you.” she grinned, with a knowing and pointed look at grace, who just shrugged.

“my granddaughter has been very good this year.” grace smiled, pinching cadence's cheek.

"you spoil her." y/n mouthed with a laugh before walking the perimeter of the island so that she could stand behind daniel, wrapping her arms around his midsection and resting her head on his cheek. "merry christmas, baby."

"merry christmas, hon." danny smiled, kissing his wife on the nose before extricating himself from her hold and sipping around to face her.

the radio next to the stove was playing softly, and when the song changed, the australian couldn't help but grin as he started to sing along, taking her hand in his.

"i really can't stay, baby it's cold outside."

its the same thing every year, a family tradition if you will. that family tradition being daniel's terrible singing and a dance with his wife, who will usually humor him and join in with the singing. every time the song came on the radio, they had to stop and sing.

despite all of it's controversy, it had always been y/n's favourite christmas song, partly because for twenty-seven years of her life, she had never seen snow before. the year after they started dating, daniel had helped her make that a reality by spending christmas in austria.

"my mother will start to worry." she couldn't stop the smile spreading on her face as daniel spun her around the kitchen

"beautiful what's your hurry?" daniel sang into the whisk that he was holding while grace and cadence clapped int he background, the younger girl still attempting to teach herself the words

"my maiden aunt's mind is vicious." she sang sweetly, looping her arms around daniel's neck as he pressed a kiss to the side of her head, his baritone voice churning out the next lyric.

"gosh your lips look delicious."

"well, baby it's cold outside!"

grace and cadence clapped, and joe looked very confused as he came back inside from tending to the farm.

"what did i miss?"

"how about we start opening presents now that grandpa is back?" daniel suggested with a laugh. "cadence, why don't you go with your grandparents and pick one out. your mother and i will be in there in a minute."

"okay! come on, grandpa!" cadence laughed, running across the room to launch herself into grandpa joe's arms.

y/n laughed thoughtfully, looking at her daughter and her in-laws. "wanted some time to ourselves, did you?"

"wanted to give you something." daniel hummed, taking a small box out of the pocket of his sweatpants.

"daniel joseph ricciardo!" y/n rolled her eyes. "we talked about this! i told you not to get me anything. i have you and cadence, i don't need anything else."

"you say that every year."

"danny."

the driver laughed, passing her the box. "babe, just open it."

rolling her eyes again, y/n slipped her fingernail inside the seam of the box, opening the lid before taking in a breath. inside, on a fine satin pillow, was a pair of earrings. a pair of pearls stacked on top of each other to make little snowmen, with tiny diamonds for eyes and strips of silver for arms.

"daniel, they're gorgeous. thank you." she said softly, one hand on his cheek as she pressed up on her tiptoes to kiss her husband. "i love you."

"i love you more. taking time off from the track will be good for me. i can't wait to spend all of next season by your side, watching our little girl grow up."

"mommy! daddy! hurry up!"

the couple laughed, y/n's head still resting aginst daniel's chest as he kissed the top of her head.

"come on, let's go see what your parents bought her this year."

Tags:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @sidcrosbyspuck @daydreamingleclerc @flannel-cures @mignonricciardo

[imaginewarehouse]

Human!Sheriff x Reader x Human!Doc Hudson || Drabble

Plot: Flo's diner on Friday Night's is always a lot of fun- there's good food and drink (Which is not out of the ordinary, admittedly), good company (The whole town ends up there at some point in the night), and theirs dancing. You're determined to get the hot old men to dance with you.

Warnings: Age difference I guess but its not a focus point.

I have had this fic in my drafts, finished and all, for years. Since like, 2019-2020, but since I wrote it just for me (Also the reason for the fist person perspective), I had never bothered to edit it- well I finally did and I think its kinda cute ^^

🔆🔆🔆

“What are you two doing just sitting around and drinking over here for?” I ask Doc and the Sheriff, as I sweep off the dancefloor in exhaustion and rest in the chair beside Doc (The material of his blazer grazes my bare arm and I get a little jolt from the innocent touch). Mater’s a sweetie pie, and a great dancer but… boy, does he have more endurance than I do. After I take a second to gather my exhaustion and banish it, I turn to the two men and flash them a smile. “It’s fun out there!”

“Hmm, your exhaustion and the sweat completely bucketing off of you is especially encouraging.” Doc rolls his eyes, and turns to look back at the dancers. Ramone and Flo are dancing smoothly in the middle, like they’re practised, like they do it at home because they just love each other like that- unsurprisingly. Then Sally and Lightning are there, too, Mater’s found a new partner in Guido while Luigi laughs at his friend’s expense off to the side, and Lizzie's talking on happily to Red off to the side. A soft smile rests on my lips, until I turn away from the scene and back to the two men I’m sitting with. Sheriff’s already looking at me, which makes me smile wider.

“Being tired and sweaty is a good sign!” I exclaim, winking. “Sheriff, what about you? Fancy a round with me?” How many innuendos can I make with these men and get away with it? How many until they get it and take me? I’m not saying take advantage… because neither of them would do that- but at least recognise what I’m trying to get at here and ask me about it!!

He chuckles, moving in his bar stool chair to be more comfortable. “That’s a lovely offer, darlin’, but I’m afraid I’d probably just slow you down. I’m not as young as I used to be!”

At this, an opportunistic light switches on behind Doc’s calculating eyes, swivelling on his stool ever so slightly in order to turn that piercing stare on the sheriff. “Yes, he’s missed his last 3 check-ups, Y/N. Anything could be wrong with him.” Sheriff bristles and his expression dissolves into guilt, as he refuses to look at Doc who’s smirking. “Damn hot rods not allowing you a single day off to visit the office, right Sheriff?”

“Uhuh, ri-right.” Sheriff quickly clears his throat, straightening in his chair now to look around at anything other than Doc. As he does that, Dr Hudson glances to me with a quiet, conspiratorial look before taking another drink from his mug, making me giggle quietly.

In a moment, I raise my eyebrows at him. “Why don’t you take a dance with me, then? You must be at the height of health, ey Doc?”

A grunt is his response, as the amusement leaves his blue eyes and he looks away again.

“Come on, one of you? Both of you? I’m not picky- I’m desperate! Mater’s got a new partner and… “I risk a glance at the tow-truck owner and can’t stop a laugh from bubbling up to the surface. “Guido’s a hard act to beat! He’ll never want me back. I’m dying to get back on the floor, though!”

“Guido’s seemed to have transformed miraculously into a sack of potatoes.” Doc states in that slow, gravelly drawl, assessing the dancing couples as well. And it’s true, making me really chuckle this time at his analogy. Mater is just swinging the little Italian around at this point, with absolutely zero help from Guido himself. Guido’s toupee keeps bopping around and slipping out of place.

I stop my chuckling by biting my bottom lip, and scraping it through my teeth as I turn back to them. Sheriff’s stopped avoiding Docs gaze now and is looking at me with him like they’ve won- like together they can ward me off- Oh, ho, ho, though. These two think they’re so clever and victorious. But they haven’t gotten out of this. No, no. I’m determined; I’ll get one of them to dance with me tonight, even if it takes begging!

“You’re right.” I admit, then lean closer into the table pleadingly. “But I don’t want to dance with Mater, I want you two! Come onnnn,” I whine, looking as pleadingly as possible to them.

Doc sets me with a firm, straight lipped look. “And you’ll continue to want me.”

Well, that’s that then.

I turn from him, to Sheriff. When Doc’s mind is set, he usually will never change it. Sheriff, though… he’s a bit more lenient. A softie. A sweetheart. That’s one of the things I really love about him, in contrast to what I really love about Doc; his cleverness, his sternness. Unbelievably sexy qualities.

And I’m right, too. The Sheriff’s looking at me a with worried frown under that moustache and thoughtful deep, dark blue eyes. Oh lord, these men and their blue eyes. They had me my first day here in Radiator Springs.  

I offer my hand across the table to him, and up the ante with my cute pleading look, which I hadn’t even known was possible. I do so by adding a little pout, and it does the trick. Sheriff heaves a great sigh and drops his large hand into mine, getting out of his chair. He rolls his eyes. “Hot damn… “He mutters something about the lord saving him, as I get up from my seat with the biggest beam on my face and springing into place next to him like a slightly overexcited puppy, before returning his gaze to me. “Remember what I said, I’m not as springy as I once was. And, I was never a very good dancer in the first place, so- “

“Let’s go!” Now that I’ve got him up, I’m not about stand here and listen to him talk himself out of this again, so I take us off to a spot on the floor. When I turn back to him and let go of his hand, I flash him a bright grin and think out loud in anticipation as the song ends and we wait for the next one to play. “Besides, the point of this is not to look good, it’s to have fun! Wanna have fun with me, Sheriff?” Okay, so I might have gone a little far with that last comment as the poor, sweet man goes a little pink, but I pretend not to notice that and just listen out for the first few beats of the next song. Before I can make the first move and pick up his hands again, as the song’s a bit boppy and perfect for twirling, he takes up mine first and then, before I know it he’s dancing with me. It’s so much fun!, he’s not half bad at dancing like he let on- there’s a little bit of funk and we slip out of time every now and then but that just makes us laugh. And he twirls me!! He twirls me!!! I’m also starting to think he was just being modest, with all that ‘I’m not as springy as I once was’, crap. Sheriff’s in shape! We’ve been dancing for the past 8 songs and he has not once needed a break or looked like he would be needing one any time soon.

It’s so much fun that I nearly forget to want a drink, or a break myself. The music is so hillbilly it’s fun, the laughter is elating, and the company is addictive. Every time a song ends, he’ll dip me and I’m not afraid that he’ll drop me; he’s strong, and his grip on me is firm. I laugh quite a bit when he does that, and when I get to twirl, and at some point he throws his hat off to Doc, and I’m surprised there’s still a Ford-Pines-Tom-Sellick-level head of hair there. Man, does this place know how to grow ‘em…

We go on like this for a few more songs, until he reminds me to get a drink and a rest for a moment and see how Doc is doing. “Hey Doc, I don’t think you should be worried about Sheriffs health, he’s fitter than me!” I exclaim elatedly as I collapse back into my seat beside him, exasperated but not really. Tired, yes, but annoyed, not at all.

“Hmmm,”

“Still don’t wanna get a dance in before the night’s over Doc? It really is fun!” Sheriff pours us both some water from the jug Doc ordered for us, laughing a bit because of the left-over endorphins, and I nod along intently.

“Yes, the offer’s still on the table until the last song ends. So, keep that in mind.”

“Sure.”

I giggle, widening my eyes exasperatedly at Sheriff over my cup as I take a sip, before Doc starts up a conversation about Chick’s latest Lightning slander in the news.  

6 songs later, and the night’s about to end, sadly. I watch, quietly and honestly tired, as Ramone goes up to Red and requests a certain song, quietly. I guess it’s something special between him and Flow, but as the slow song starts to play, Sally and Lightning dance too- and I’m actually perfectly content and happy in just sitting by and watching, when a shift beside me catches my attention and I look to see Doc getting off his stool and stretching his back. “Ah… this is much more my speed. Y/N?” He raises his hand in front of my face without looking back from the dance floor, and I raise an eyebrow.

“Yes?”

“You said the offer to dance was on the table until the last song. I believe this- is the last song.” A slow grin spreads across my face, and I cautiously, tiredly hop off my own stool, taking his hand in the process.

“Sure is!”

“Now, Doc, I’d’a thought you’d be up for something faster!” The Sheriff teases after us, with laughing eyes as he sits comfortably still in his seat.

A tiny smile graces Doc’s face, making me feel squirmy like it always does. “Yes, but my physical ability extends only to the minimum of what a driver’s required to be. Dear, now shall we?”

“Mhm, yeah, we shall!” I agree, grinning cheekily at him and waiving quickly to the Sheriff as Doc walks me onto the floor and swings me around to face him. The song, slow and easy, plays on around us as he fixes his hands carefully on the okay zone around my waist and mine find his shoulders. As we sway around the floor, I wonder; Will I ever get to do this with them as my men? Go out dancing as a date?.. Will these two ever realise how much I really like them?

When Doc grins again I wonder, if he actually already does know.

[floredaqueen]

A Bud In The Gun(2)

Gator Tillman X Fem!OriginalCharacter

Enemies To Lovers

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Writer(?)'s Note: This chapter was actually super hard for me to write, but I hope people actually like it. Took me forever to gain the courage to even continue it because it felt so late. I just hope that people like a different type of love story. Please enjoy.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

⚠️WARNING⚠️

MINORS DNI 18+, Cursing, Threats, Insults, Chrys being a little private investigator, Gator still spying on Chrys, description of fighting, description of sexual content, description of past SA (Trigger), description of assault, mentions of self harm.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Pinapples (3), Grapefruit (3), Bananas (6), Strawberries (2 1LBs), Raspberries (3 1LBs), Blackberries (3 1LBs), Green Apples (5), Grapes (2lbs), Kiwis (6), Grapefruit Juice (2 5.9 oz), Lemonade (2 5.9 oz), Orange Juice (2 6 oz), Apple Juice (2 6 oz), Cranberry Juice (2 5.9 oz)..

... This was the kind of food Chrysanthemum was used to throwing into her cart at this point. When she began her job as an exotic dancer, more than a few of the girls told her that her new bread and butter were fruits and salads. The nutrience would be her best friend. They were right. Now, it's all she would eat. Chrys could still eat other foods, but at this point, it didn't go down her stomach the right way.. in fact, she often coughed it back up.

As she stocked up on her nutritious must haves, she contemplated her plan of action. Her beloved father and brother. She was sure about how she would go about it, but she knew damn sure that all bets were off. Especially when it came to law enforcement in this Godforsaken town. She could've sworn she overheard Sheriff- Gag- Roy Tillman justify a man raising his hand to his wife. It was fucking 2019. If a man had ever threatened or committed violence against her she would kill him. If she allowed to happen even once, Chrys would kill herself. She was just getting more and more reasons to set this town a blaze.

It wasn't long when she finished up, counting her spending and then heading to the checkout bag. Although, no matter how goregous and sharp her eyes were at any other time in the day, there was no getting past the fact that she was as blind as a bat in the early morning. That was her inner dialogue for why she was always bumping someone. The someone she inconveniently bumped into this breezy morning had to be the slick back haired douche seemed to follow her everywhere.. otherwise known as Gator Tillman.

"Careful, darlin'. I could've knocked you over," He'd say in that slightly southern accent, which didn't make much sense considering they were in North Dakota. Chrys rolled her eyes, rolling her shopping car full of sweet and acidic goodies. Gator took a gander as the pretty woman swiped and checked and swiped and checked. Even while doing something so mundane, she looked good, the deputies eyes trailing downward to that juicy peach she called her backside.

"So this is how you keep yourself.. petite.. you need help, lil' lady?" Tillman questioned while he gawked at her smooth and lithe frame. It only got a quick laugh out of her. She looked back when she finished the juice and moved on to the salad.

"Tillman, the only thing this is keeping me from getting is arrested because I kicked your ass." Chrys sneered, getting a chuckle out of him. Soon, he was leaning over, his big hands hovering over her worked, tiny waist appreciatively as if he wasn't about to say something to set her off.

"I'd love to see you try darlin'.. the only thing you could probably do is dodge–" His eyes widened when her gaze met his. They were still piercing right through him as if she were looking at a mirror. He felt like he could feel her lips on his even though her nose almost touched his.

"I assure you.. you don't wanna find out what I can do." Those were fighting words, Gator all the more riled up to start something with his more than eager opponent who couldn't stop poking at him with her long, black painted fingernail. Even if she was dead serious, he couldn't wait for the chance to really demonstrate how they were two completely different levels.

"What if I do..?" Gator would question, only to find himself more and more smug as while her irritation sat like chili on the stove.. at a low boil.

"Go fuck yourself," Chrys decided that was enough indulging Gator for one day, finishing up the scanning of her items before paying and leaving.

"Or you could fuck me yourself," He continued, strolling after her as she pushed the cart now full of bagged fruits and whatever else she decided to stock up on.

"That's not clever.." She added, walking faster until she got to her car while he just stood there. He silently observed Chrys bend over just to put her eatables in the trunk of her Lexus. His head lowered itself, slightly tilting to get a better view of the way her ass curved as while she busied herself.

"Says who?" The agent of "justice" raised an eyebrow playfully, only to get scrutinized by the auburn haired woman. She even scoffed as she pusted a group of others she eyed while she walked to her car.

"Says me. Now instead of following me, go do your fucking job-" She'd say abruptly before hopping into Corey and driving off. She'd barely made out the words Gator decided to speak before she took off.

"Be seein' you, darlin," ..

Yeah.. he definitely would be.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It wasn't only a few hours before Chrys had driven back out, finding herself subconsciously eyeing the scenery. She kept thinking to herself about how it was a different time. It's not simpler but different. When she had reached a familiar looking ranch, her mind flashed, and all she saw was her father and much younger self. She remembered that day.

The day her dad finally caved in and taught her how to ride a horse. He himself was a horse wrangler, but even then, he taught his children that there was way more to life, partially because of the way he was treated. He wasn't the only horse wrangler, but he was the only black horse wrangler. And with that fact known, he had to seek out issues with his ranch, his horses, and money in 'different' ways.. more difficult ways, as if it wasn't difficult enough.

That day was wonderful, though. It was hard, fun work, picking a pony small enough for her young, petite stature. The riding process was terrifying, Chrys remembering how scared she was to even have the horse move and not hold onto it for dear life. She got over her fear, though, following her father to the ranch every Sunday after church to go ride that damn horse.

On the third day of practice, she named her. Like an idiot, she named her. Her name was Posey. Her mane and coat of fur all black. She was feisty and sassy. But not to Chrys. Chrys was the only one who could tame her. But she wasn't too stubborn to call a quits. Before Chrysanthemum went off to college, Posey passed, having to be put down because her joints were weak. After a while, they were weak enough to break.

Chrys was there when her right back leg broke. She was riding Poesy one last time, not even aware of the pain her horse was going through. A loud crack was heard, both Posey and her younger version screeching in horror as they both fell.

Chrys tumbled off of the black beauty bestowed upon her at a young age, shaking off her twisted ankle and wrist to see what happened. And then the real screeching happened. The one where she called out to her father as blood poured across the ground from the very messed up bone. But when he got there, it was too late.

...There was something significant about that day. About the day she watched the animal, she stupidly named implode on itself. She found it symbolic. And she vowed never to let herself get that far.

Easier said than done when she was planning a massacre.

To be quite frank, she didn't know what she was doing, the vengeful woman ending up tramping in the trailer that was her home all those years ago; a taser in her back pocket and a thigh holster, keeping her 9 millimeter close. The place was abandoned, not even given up as collateral or sold to a new home owner. The furniture and electronics were gone.. probably stolen. Food? Rotten, Chrys finding a particularly rancid smell from whatever mushy and rotten substance that barely held its shape in the fridge.

As her hazel, dull green orbs slowed around the double-wide, something distinct was absent. The pictures. Where were they? She rummaged around through the cabinets, messy drawers along with the rest of the vandalized furniture. She only found 2 photos by the end of her salvage. One of them all together, stained by a little bit of mold, and the other of her when she was younger, when she didn't look so exhausted by the wear of college, work, and whatever she called this.. grieving..? For her, it was.

There used to be substance here. This used to be a decent home, filled with the overbearing love of a 3-person family. It used to be filled with laughter, longing hugs, friendly competition, reassurance.. love. Real, gut-wrenching, admirable love. Something Chrys has been longing for ever since she got here. Now.. the place was just an empty, moldy depiction of what laughter, board games, and lessons her family endured together. Together, they were no more.

Her yearning was shortly interrupted by the small sound of leaves being crushed under a boot. Immediately, her head spun around around see what -or who - made the noise, only to find nothing but the wind and what was previously still behind her to be present. What made it worse was that she still felt the eerie present behind her.

The feeling persisted all week. At her apartment, at the grocery store, at the familiarity of a strip club, when she went back to the abandoned trailer. It just wouldn't go away. That is until she decided to figure out what was making her feel such a way.

Later that night, Chrys found herself in her closet, her pupils small and sharp in focus despite the heavy bags under her eyes. She wasn't going to sleep, not until her intuition got to the bottom of what was unsettling her. Not 20 minutes later, she heard a creak at her bedroom door. She would've assumed it was the air conditioning if she didn't see a grown ass man stomp his way into her space. She stilled, her bulbs following his every move.

His gloved hand placed itself upon every surface it could before he realized she wasn't soundly sleeping on her comfy mattress. She wished that she was, but the intruder made the simple action quite difficult to achieve. When he headed to her bathroom, she stepped out of her small storage unit, it now visible that her hand was gripping a metal baseball bat.

Her smaller frame snuck behind the bathroom door, and then behind him when he returned to the bed. The first time she swung, he dodged it just in time to see her. The second time, he wasn't so lucky, the sound of the hallow pang ringing in his ears as he felt the harsh connection against his right temple. His body fell against the flush of her silk covered mattress, yet he was still conscious. He considered enough to grab the bat before she couldn't hit him again with it, only for her to use the hard edge of her elbow as her next weapon. She still didn't know who it was, the perpetrator hiding his face with a stupid Halloween mask. She would've broken his face in if it wasn't for the disguise. Still, though, it was lights out for him, Chrys not taking any chances or giving mercy. Her funny bone was on fire as the weary girl nonstop plowed against his nearest pressure point.

When he was finally subdued, Chrys pulled off the mask, throwing it in annoyance as she realized who was stalking her. With his hair grossly slicked back and his nose protruding a little too high, she already knew it was the son of a bitch, Gator Tillman.

'Kill him,' was her very first thought. 'Kill him and send his severed head without the skull to his no good father as a warning.' She could easily find the tools, and she was sure he wouldn't be looking for him.. but then a better idea came to mind.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Ringing. During the time he sturred back awake, Gator could still hear the ringing in his ears from the harsh hit to the temple he endured. Cautiously, his eyes found the smooth of slim, chestnut color legs standing in patience for his consciousness to return. When her raging expression met his line of vision, he rolled his eyes with a straining groan.

"Fancy, seein' you here, sugar," He smiled wickedly, the young woman crossing her arms in obvious annoyance.

"Why are you stalking me?" She questioned , only getting a snort out of the dirty cop. Her eye twitched as she watched his range of emotions. His anger that he got caught, his annoyance that it was by some chicken, his aloof thought process on how to escape. It was all clear to Chrys.. that is until he turned his attention back to her.

A smoldering expression took form on his face, one that confused her for a moment. She almost slapped the expression off of his face, that is, until he gave it up. Did he think this was fucking Tangled?

"Just wanted to know why you came back," He finally answered, Chrys biting the inside of her cheek to stop her from injuring him further.

"You know why I came back.."

There was a quick silence between them both after that. It was enough time for Whitlock to remember as well. She allowed her anger and grief to fill her once more with determination. Her hands reached for her 9 millimeter, cocking it back before almost capping one in his head. It just grazed his left ear. It was enough to take a portion of the shell of.

By then, she had the deputy yelling profanities, the very small wound just a warning for he could really experience.

"You bitch," He growled in exhaustion, only getting a small chuckle out the mentally wounded girl.

"Probably," She answered with an eerily warm grin. She watched him suffer just a little more, allowing him to fully curse her out just a little longer. A few "Fucking cunt,"s and "stupid slut,"s later, she finally began to bargain for what she really wanted.

"Listen, as much as I'd love to hear you call me every name under the sun, there's a reason I haven't killed you yet."

She sat her piece back down on the kitchen counter, pushing her to be up by her arms to plop her ass on the counter as well.

"I know your dad knows something about what happened to my family.. and I can't just go up and ask him. He'll blow my head off.." Chrys trailed off for a moment, her eyes fluttering to his in a motion that was all too familiar to him. When she hopped off the corner and onto his lap, it was clear. Gator only tensed up when she settled fully,

"I need to infiltrate from the inside.. and you'll be my perfect cover.." A soft smile came to her face, Gator face contorting into a heavy bit of confusion..

"The hell are you on about..?" The deputy asked until he was shushed by the carress of her stiletto painted fingers tips.

...

Sunday seemed to come quick, Chrys finding herself being greeted into the Tillman household by a taller woman. A brown Bob framing her face with eyes desperate to rain happy.

"Hi! I'm Karen. You must be Gator's fiancé!'' She exclaimed, seeming to be happy there was another woman in the house. A warm smile came to her face the, but the sound of girlish giggles followed along by the feel of tiny hands and arms wrapping around her frilly clothed waist. When her eyes peered down, they found two blonde twins, around 7 or 8.

"Oh.. And who might you two be, hm?" She asked with a slightly teasing voice. When they giggled once more, Karen huffed slightly.

"Girls, where are your manners?" The pale woman snapped, shooing the girls away before turning back to the exotic-looking woman.

"I'm sorry about them! You know how it is," Chrys didn't hear the explanation tangent Karen had gone on, too busy looking at all the furnished wood and marble that made up the walls and furniture a like.. until her peridot colored irises landed on the scorn of the Earth, standing there with his burly arms crossed and his greying hair freshly cut.

This.. was gonna be harder than she ever anticipated.. especially with Roy breathing down her neck every second he got.

[missprincesse345]

He’s my rough rider

Summary: being ringside for hangman’s match against swerve during full gear and helping him even the odds. Headcanon au

Hangman adam page x wife reader ( former wwe wrestler)

Y/n’s face claim

Her outfit:

Let’s begin shall we!!!

• First of all let’s talk about when y/n and adam

• The two of met in mid 2019 at a party through Britt baker whose been friends y/n since college. At first Adam was hesitant because his fiancé had cheated months prior but all of his sudden hesitation went out the window when he saw.

• hangman recognized her from her time in wwe as Domino banks ( her wrestling style is a mix of Naomi,chyna and Rey mysterio my wrestling faves💕)

• “ Adam this my friend y/n” Britt smiles “ hi nice to meet you Britt told me a lot about you” y/n giggles holding her hand out, oh yeah everything was going to be just fine “ nice to meet you darlin” he said shaking her hand smirking a little as she blushed.

• After that night the texted,FaceTime,meeting up and just overall getting closer not making their relationship official until mid 2021 then married 2023.

• they both have a baby boy named Cairo

Hangman and Swerves feud

Lawd Jesus take the wheel cause man this feud was something else!!!

• 9/06/23 Aew dynamite is when it all happened y/n was back in her and adams house in Virginia taking it easy since her due date was very close, she smiled softly watching her husband on tv with a proud smile that was until swerve walked out.

She got worried cause from what everyone else has told her he was a real piece of work biting her lip watching Adam and swerve go back & forth, y/n let out a breath of relief as Adam left the ring only to gasp as swerve made crude remarks about her and their unborn child baiting hangman back into the ring only to get attacked by Brian cage.

•she immediately called the young bucks and thankful when Matt answered the phone “ He’s okay but livid y/n where so sorry we had no idea swerve was going say what he said” Matt told her on the phone feeling extremely bad which made her smile appreciating the kind words happy that adam had friends like them in his corner. “ thank you Matt I appreciate the kind words…can you guys make sure he gets home safely?” She said more worried about her husband than what she she’d had just seen.

• One private jet ride home courtesy of the young bucks and Tony khan Adam made it home safely around 1:00 in the morning once he walked into the house quietly and locked up behind himself, he was surprised to see y/n was awake before he could ask why she was up she hugged him tightly which made him realize that she must’ve seen his segment but smiled softly as she hugged him tightly “ thank you darlin” he whispered kissing her head holding her close letting her warmth comfort him.

• a week later admits what happened between the two men Y/n had given birth to their beautiful Carmel drop baby boy Cairo page who was a perfect mix of her and Adam despite the craziness hangman was extremely happy for this moment. Not just for their newborn child but also Y/n she was truly his rock before & during the pregnancy she was his light & protector not letting him doubt or harbor himself but now he has to lights of his life Her & his child.

A few months later

• Just when Y/n thought things were going to calm & subside between her husband & swerve she was wrong things just kept from bad to worse from confrontations to brawls it was getting out of hand. She even noticed how Adam would be more feral at times which concerned her but she couldn’t even blame him cause what swerve was doing was not okay at all,especially after Cheating and beating Adam at the wrestle dream ppv via interference to which she was present for backstage since giving birth.

• But on unfortunate night of Dynamite 10/25/23 in Hangman’s hometown swerve took things extremely too far Y/n was in her and hangman’s bedroom breast feeding Cairo when heard the front door downstairs open and voices that weren’t adams or the elite. As she slowly got out of bed holding the infant close to her chest she froze hearing swerve and prince nana how the hell did they find their house ? in that moment she was shuddering with disgust but quickly locked the door and hid in the closet with Cairo who whimpered feeling his mother’s distress “ shhh it’s okay it’s okay little one”. She said soothing the infant before looking at her phone as Brandi and the rest of the Aew roster sent her texts Warning her what she had already confirmed but what made her blood run cold is seeing it was being broadcasted on dynamite knowing good and well Adam was watching, quickly she called her good friend and former wwe coworker Aj styles who lived near by and came to her rescue scaring off swerve and nana.

• A few hours later and some speeding tickets Adam rushed to aj’s house where Y/n & Cairo were staying thankful for the wwe stars help “ Baby Girl…” He said hugging her tightly his heart breaking feeling her Trembling despite her being strong willed this moment really shook her “ we’re okay…we’re okay just hold me please” her voice cracks as he squeezes her tightly not letting go Vowing to make swerve pay for what he had done.

• a week later since the whole break in Y/n found Adam outside in the backyard on the patio drinking a beer staring off into space knowing he was replaying everything had transpired leading to this vile act. Careful sitting on his lap she cradles his bearded face in her hands looking deeply into his blue ocean eyes before squishing his cheeks getting a chuckle out of him, she leaned in kissing him deeply yet softly as if she silently was telling him they’re okay… she’s okay and their baby boy is okay to which he completely understood holding her close as they both watched the sunset knowing that he gained more than what swerve could have.

FULL GEAR TIME ⚙️ ⚙️🔥🔥

• It was the time everyone was waiting for and boy nobody was holding back Y/n was watching backstage in her cowgirl boujee attire on the edge of her seat watching her husband going apesh** on swerve months prior before the ppv she had been helping Adam both mentally and physically preparing him, for whatever swerve had up his sleeve and the rest of the roster was more than happy to help which he was thankful for.

• Throughout the match it was getting gut turning and stomach turning practically murder between hangman & swerve both men pulling out all the stops not giving up, which worried and made Y/n terrified of her husband’s safety especially after his concussion scare in the ring but she knew it was his fighting spirit that kept him going.

At one point towards the end match Y/n headed towards the tunnels after having Brandi keep an eye on Cairo so the infant wasn’t exposed to the bloody violence, giving the sound guy’s the 1…2…3 she ran out as her entrance music “Monster by Kanye west”blasted through the arena.

• every one went crazy despite loving the warm welcome she had made a b line for prince nana attacking him repeatedly as Adam catches his breath smiling big watching his badass wife, which gives him the perfect time attack swerve while he was distracted.

“Buckshot!!! Buckshot!!!” The commentary said as everyone was going crazy as hangman hit his finisher on swerve and went for the cover finally ending swerves reign of terror,Y/n screams happily proud of her tears of running down her cheeks as hangman hugged her tightly once getting out the ring all his nights of anger and frustration was finally over.

Hope you guys enjoyed!!!❤️❤️

Y/n’s entrance music

[hornetsbeyondhumancomprehension]

you're coming back and it's the end of the world

we're starting over and i love you darlin'

and i am done, here

euphoria (2019)//i want you - mitski