#drawing pete was ... a challenge

[z0mbatz]

SMELLtingville headcanons because i HATE them,,

i TRIED to make them as greasy and disgusting as possible and somehow they STILL dont look rancid enough????

[golyadkin]

Last night was scary

[oflightningandstars]

They are talking about books!!!

[mewlicks]

A couple highlights of my “Draw Pete White & Billy Quizboy Everyday” Challenge

[nikkotinamide]

last artwork of the year is what my mind's eye pictured reading the VP howl's moving castle AU by @xxhappy-chickenxx I didn't know I needed (macau-cifer is the cutest ever)

edit: close-ups

[rptv-drawings]

Nachtober 2024 Day 20: Pete (Peg Leg Pete)

[ptergwen]

can you do a fic where one of the peters (garfield or holland) is making out with the reader and starts to kiss and bite her neck and the little sounds she makes drives him insane

three strikes

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist

w/c: 655

warnings: making out, suggestiveness

a/n: i went with tasm!peter hehe, def a fluffier approach to it but so so adorable & i hope you enjoy! keep the reqs coming y'all <3

winter in the city is magical. everything in the park is covered in a light dusting of snow, all the stone pathways and the trees, couples hand in hand and kids playing. then, there's peter. he's looking up at the sky with his tongue stuck out. he's so focused on trying to catch snowflakes that he doesn't notice you digging your hands into the snow, collecting a handful.

something hits peter's chest; a snowball. he looks across the way, where you're smiling mischievously. he brushes the snow off his jacket, chuckling. you're already making another snowball.

"i dunno, babe. i wouldn't do that if i were you."

despite peter's warning, you aim your arm to throw.

"you're playing with fire, you know that?"

"no, i’m playing with snow."

"oh, that's cute. really cute."

you promptly hit peter with the snowball. he raises a challenging eyebrow, and you know you're in for it. you start to run away, giggling, peter chasing after you. he's quick to catch up. he grabs your waist and pins you against a streetlight, breathing out smoke into the cold air through laughter.

"you wanna try that again?"

peter's gaze darts between your eyes and lips. you bite back a grin.

"kind of."

"what a shame. it'd be strike three."

"what happens after strike three?"

"you wouldn't get this."

peter leans in and kisses you. you loop your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. he hums in content, hands squeezing your waist and lips trailing over to your cheek. he pecks both your cheeks, your nose, just above your lips, peppering kisses all over your face until you're giggling and trying to push him away.

"no, no, no, stop! that tickles!"

peter kisses down your chin and back up, across your forehead, over to your temple. you grin despite yourself, tugging at his locks that are damp with snow.

"i’m serious, pete! stop it!"

"no can do, babe. can't help myself, you're just too damn cute."

peter pecks your cheek a few times, earning a noise of protest.

"so cute i could eat you up."

"nuh uh."

you pull the zipper of your jacket all the way up so it's covering the lower half of your face.

"yeah huh."

peter leaves big, lingering kisses on your forehead, each one punctuated with a mwah. when you realize he's not going to let up, you finally concede. you uncover your face and capture his lips with yours, the only way to make him stop. your nose nudges his, head tilting to look at him.

"are you done?"

"not even close."

peter kisses you again. you kiss him back, smiling into it. he moves your jacket out of the way and continues his kiss attack, this time on your neck. you let him have his fun, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin. you squeal when he finds one particular spot and nips at it.

"pete! what're you doing?"

"i told you, eating you up."

he playfully bites at your neck between a series of kisses, arms locked around your waist, drawing the most adorable sounds out of you that he can't get enough of. you thread your fingers through his hair.

"don't forget we're in public, mister."

your tone doesn't match your words, unconvincing, and you're resting your head on the lamp pole so peter has more access. he smirks.

"i know, they're just love bites."

he starts to suck at your neck. the pressure is light, but enough to leave a hickey. you play with his fluffy hair, letting out a noise between a sigh and a moan. you feel the vibrations from peter laughing. you feel something poking at your thigh, too.

"and you're telling me we're in public? whew, i think we'd better get you home."

"you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

peter answers by holding you in place and kissing down your neck, making you breathless from laughter.

tags (join my new taglist!)

@mystic-writings @jenoslov @crvshnburnn @starlight-starks @belovasheart @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy @magicalxdaydream @valluvsu @ronweasleysslut @winchestersgirl222 @sunf1ower-vol6 @raajali3 @niktwazny303 @marvelgurl @itsjanedeluca @prancerrparkerr @thollandsgirl2013

[rootedinrevisions]

Top Gun: Maverick Masterlist

Welcome to the chaos! 💫

This masterlist is where you’ll find all my writing for Top Gun: Maverick all in one spot.

So grab a drink and snacks, get comfy, and dive in. Happy reading! 💕

✈️ Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Drabbles (Under 1,000 words)

Such a Tease

Jake is stuck at base for a mind numbing training session while you’re home enjoying a much needed day off. Bored and missing him, you decide to have a little fun by slipping into his favorite lacy lingerie and sending him a few teasing photos.

Pretty On Your Knees

Jake had always been confident, the calm in any storm, but lately, the weight of an upcoming mission had cast a shadow over him. No matter what you tried, his mind remained distant, locked on the challenges ahead. Desperate to help him unwind, you took a bold step, sinking to your knees before him, offering a moment of release from the pressures weighing him down. As his eyes finally met yours, dark with both surprise and need, you knew you had his full attention. In that moment, the tension between you shattered, and what followed was a much-needed escape for both of you.

Five More Minutes

You and Jake are headed to The Hard Deck to meet the daggers, but a few things risk making you late. 

One-Shots

Old Flames, New Wounds

Years after a bitter breakup, you find yourself face-to-face with Jake “Hangman” Seresin at The Hard Deck, reigniting all the anger and unresolved feelings you'd buried.

The First Time

Jake Seresin has been trying to take you home from The Hard Deck for awhile. However there’s always been something holding you back. A secret that you can’t stand the thought of revealing to him. But when he finally gets you to tell him your secret, his reaction is anything but what you expect.

Keep My Hands Off You

You head a Navy bar to meet your Tinder date Jake. What you aren’t expecting is to see him in his uniform khakis.

Beg For It

Jake’s jealousy comes out during a night out at the bar.

Everything to Me

Another pilot says something that bothers you and shakes your confidence. Jake takes it upon himself to make sure you know that you are everything to him. 

Rough Side of Hangman’s Girl

You’ve always been the quiet one. The kind of girl who prefers soft laughter to loud crowds, and gentle touches over wild passions. But Jake has a way of drawing out the side of you no one else gets to see. 

Since Forever

After a harrowing near death experience in the sky when a routine training exercise goes wrong, you and Jake are forced to confront the unspoken tension that’s always simmered between you. With a crash landing and a moment that changes everything, the line between squadmates and something more begins to blur.

Tall, Hot in a Stetson

When a night of playful banter and teasing turns into something far more intimate, you find yourself crossing every line you swore you wouldn’t with Jake Seresin. Between stolen kisses, soft confessions, and moments that blur the line between lust and something deeper, it becomes clear that this isn’t just a one time thing.

Series

Rooster’s Shadow

When Carly Bradshaw starts college near her brother’s Top Gun base, she’s excited for a fresh start. A surprise night out with with her brother introduces her to Jake Seresin, the charming but cocky Navy pilot known as Hangman. As Carly catches Jake’s attention, their undeniable chemistry leads to a series of flirtatious encounters that challenge Carly’s feelings and Bradley’s protective instincts.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Cop Car

Inspired by Keith Urban’s song “Cop Car”. You and Jake enter a restricted area to watch the planes take off. It’s all fun and games until the two of you end up in cuffed in the backseat of a car. Things only get worse when your dad Pete “Maverick” Mitchell arrives on scene.

Part 1 Part 2

Unplanned Journey

You’ve been feeling off. When the realization hits you that you could be pregnant, your world shifts. As you struggle with the weight of the situation, and avoid Jake, the truth becomes impossible to ignore.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Friends (With Benefits) Don’t

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Juice Boxes & Bedtime Stories

When a last minute babysitter cancellation forces you to leave your little girl in the hands of Jake Seresin, you return home expecting chaos. Instead you find warmth, laughter, and a glimpse of a future you never thought possible.

Part 1

✈️ Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Drabbles (Under 1,000 words)

I’m Not Sure I Should Answer That Sir

Bradley gets caught sneaking around with Mav’s daughter.

Just Look So Good in My Shirt

Waking up to the warmth of Bradley Bradshaw between your legs is hardly how you imagined starting your morning—but when your Navy aviator boyfriend decides he can’t resist the sight of you in nothing but his shirt, all bets are off. As desire and playful teasing blend, Bradley shows just how much control he has over your body, bringing your dream to life in the most tantalizing way.

Make It Up to You

After a fight with Bradley, he wants to make sure you know how sorry he is.

Want This More Than Anything

After seeing you interacting with babies at a shower Bradley unlocks a kink he didn’t know he had. 

One-Shots

Washed in You

Bradley returns home from a tough mission which leads to some intimate time together in the shower.

What You Do to Me

Bradley returns home from a deployment and you have a little present in the form of a boudoir shoot you did while he was gone, waiting for him when he gets home.

The Night We Fell

After a night out with friends you find yourself a little too tipsy and in need of a ride home. When Natasha calls Bradley to pick you up, what starts as a simple favor turns into an unforgettable evening.

Rooster Comes Home to His Girls

Bradley returns from a deployment to his wife and baby girl.

To the Sky and Back

After a falling out with Bradley, reader tries to piece her life together, avoiding every place and routine that reminds her of him. But when Bradley faces a high risk mission, a visit from Natasha shatters her fragile peace forcing her to confront the depth of her feelings. 

Let’s Find Out Together

After a breakup, you turn to Bradley, your longtime friend for support. But as he steps in to help you heal, he reveals that he’s been harboring feelings for you all along. What starts as a comforting distraction quickly turns into an intense connection that blurs the lines between friendship and something more.

A Countdown to Us

As the clock ticks toward midnight on New Year’s Eve, the air is charged with more than just the promise of a new year. With every stolen glance, and every lingering touch that could change everything in your friendship. In the midst of the fireworks and celebration, will you take a leap and let the sparks between you ignite? 

Yours, Finally

Bradley and you were never just friends, but you were never more than that either. Caught somewhere between nights together and unspoken feelings, you both built something complicated that neither of you were ready to define. You and Bradley are both left shattered after you breakup, if that’s what you can even call it. When given one last chance by you, Bradley is determined to show you that he can be the man you want him to be.

✈️ Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader x Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Between Us Three

What begins as lighthearted teasing at The Hard Deck quickly ignites into a night of new experiences as you and your boyfriend, Bradley, invite Jake into an unforgettable night of passion, play, and vulnerability.

No Nut November…Or Not

When a harmless conversation turns into a bet about who can last the longest during No Nut November, the stakes are set. They both assume they can outlast the other without breaking a sweat. What they don’t anticipate is you - their mischievous partner - who takes it as a personal challenge to make the month impossible.

✈️ Robert "Bob" Floyd

Everything to Me

You and Bob make the most of your time together after her returns home.

[my-castles-crumbling]

eyeliner - @jegulus-microfic - word count: 440 - NSFW but not explicit (stripper!Regulus, anyone?)

James wasn't sure how he'd ended up here. Somehow, Marlene's entire bachelorette party had migrated to the strip club, where scantily-clad dancers moved suggestively, and Peter had already taken three shots of tequila.

James stared around, eyes a bit glazed from the alcohol, not looking for anything in particular, contemplating challenging Pete to take another shot when he saw him-

An angel.

He moved across the room like he was floating, dark hair falling in loose waves over his kohl-covered eyes, matching black satin lingerie covering perfectly slim milky-white skin scrawled with tattoos.

James reached out to slap his hand against whoever was sitting next to him, hardly daring to look away.

"Ow! James, what?" Dorcas's voice yelped.

"Something to write with. Quick," James muttered, voice rough, eyes still glued.

"Erm...I only have-"

"Whatever you have," James nodded, still craning his neck to stare.

Not bothering to look at the pencil in his hand, he began to move as soon as he closed it in his fingers, chasing the man he set his sights on.

And with absolutely no finesse, he tapped him on the shoulder, nearly choking on his own spit when he realized that he had the most beautiful grey eyes on the planet.

After an awkward moment of silence, during which the piercing eyes looked him up and down, the man asked in a low, bored voice, "Want to dance? It'll cost you."

"No-no. Just a date," James forced out, still begging his brain to catch up.

The man scoffed. "What kind of person do you think I-"

Realizing how it sounded, James corrected himself. "A real date. Dinner. A movie. You- you're lovely."

Thin fingers pushed a strand of black hair away from eyes that stared at him suspiciously. "Yeah?"

"Yes. Please," James nodded. "Can I have your number?" He held up the pencil as he asked.

But the man smirked. "Eyeliner?"

Doing a double-take, he looked at the pencil only to realize it was eyeliner. "Fuck. Sorry, I-"

"No problem," the man replied softly, snatching the pencil from him and holding his hand firmly.

How was it so sensual? Suddenly, the man was carefully, slowly writing on his arm with the dark pencil, the sensation of it drawing goosebumps and fire from James's skin. He almost drooled, watching the way the man bit his lip in concentration as he drew letters and numbers across his skin.

"Call me," the man whispered after a moment, handing the pencil back. He turned before James could say a word, giving him a wonderful view of the g-string he wore.

"Fuck," James murmured, looking down at his skin.

Edit: Marlene and Dorcas are having a joint Bachelorette party, guys. Sorry for the confusion!

[chemevan]

evan don't draw literally everything fob does ever challenge impossible!

[Image ID: a digital drawing of pete wentz from fall out boy. he's playing a blue bass guitar with 8 balls printed over it. he has his tongue out./.End ID]

[sensitive-clothes]

Tried Pete's Draw This In Your Style Challenge

^^^^^^ By @peteculver224416

[upontherisers]

❛ are you wearing my shirt? ❜ for Dora and Rosie . for legal reasons

a/n: this took so long babe my apologizes. cari write established relationship or draw 25 challenge. i'm drawing 25.

It’s hot in the sun, gloriously hot, the kind of hot that seeps right through her bones, the kind that makes her feel like she has dissolved and diffused into the air. The kind that sings her to sleep without any sound, that makes burning feel like a hug, the kind her mother would chase her out of on the grounds of too dark and wrinkles. Sorry, Mama. I’ve always loved the light. The kind of hot that needs no wind, no umbrella, no shade at all – just the clear sky overhead and the laughter of children splashing in the fire hydrant on the street below, shrieking and shouting and ignoring their parents as is their right on such a perfect day. 

The kind of hot that makes her sleepy without ever being tired first and she’s already napped today – Pastor had asked after her absence and Grammy, a quick thinker, had pardoned her granddaughter’s absence. A summer cold, you know how those get. And she has things to do – bring her laundry off the line after forgetting for two days and darn a stocking and do her readings for class tomorrow and review a radio contract offer for the picket – but it’s the kind of hot that absolves her of guilt and the day is about indulgences, isn’t it? She’s sunbathing on her roof, for Pete’s sake.

Besides, Robert’ll wake her up before it gets too late.

She cracks an eye open to look at him seated on the blanket beside her, engrossed in a newspaper. It’s tough to make out the date on the front page as it bends into shadow, but the breeze does her a favor. July 7th, 1943. It’s two weeks old but he’s reading like it’s December 8th, 1941, like he’s going to do something about what he’s seeing. You’re in it now, aren’t you?

“They don’t give you newspapers in Texas?”

His eyes, brilliant blue, as blue as the sky above, meet hers over the headline – 6 JAPANESE WARSHIPS BELIEVED SUNK IN FIGHT, and those crinkles in the corners remind her of the day they met, her confusion over Mildred’s forlorn pining when she learned where Dora had been assigned. Oh, I wanted that desk. And then he walked in and offered a hand and smiled and if she were a different woman – ambitious, romantic, concerned with station, she would’ve gloated. But Dora was new and Robert had only just started and they both needed to see who they’d turn out to be, legal secretary and lawyer.

“They give us Texas papers in Texas.”

“And they don’t have the news?”

He blinks and sets that pesky left brow. “Not the backpages stuff. Nothing about New York.”

“I can send them to you,” she says, “if you want to keep up. They’ll be a week behind but—”

“Do you read ‘em?”

“Yes,” she does, and her panic about welcoming him back into the apartment by daylight is that he’d be able to see the pile stacked on top of the piano, in reach when she’s tucked into the nook of the front window. The ones she managed to fish out of the bottom and shove into the broom closet before he finished giving himself the tour were from March and she doesn’t know when that started, but it surely wasn’t good. Just another thing to add to the list of things he made her look twice at – shoes, streetlights, and newspapers. She could at least get the Great Paper Purge done today. 

The corner of his mouth lifts, the one Mildred swoons over, he snaps the pages upright again. “I’d rather have your summaries. They’re a little more uplifting.”

She’d fret over yet another assignment getting put down in writing if it weren’t for the sun, for the warm stone under the blanket as she rolls onto her stomach, if it weren’t for the reminder that she’s as alive as anything, and she really needed this, didn’t she? She doesn’t know how he knew, but the sun tells her not to get herself into a tizzy over that either, and she slumps into the pillow beneath her chin, checking her watch – 1 o’clock. An hour won’t hurt. She’d pop up at two, take her laundry down, fix her stocking, then bring her books to the roof. Dinner will have to be sorted eventually, but her eyelids are so very heavy and as Robert hums along to Mr. Delaney cranking his car radio all the way up at the end of the block, she feels like she’s floating in water, indistinguishable from the air around her. 

Hell, they can walk to Dean St. and Robert can pay for dinner at Cal’s with his big fancy Air Force salary. She sleeps.

Dora doesn’t snore so much as huff, little bursts of air puffing through her lips with every exhale. It’s sweet, leisurely, and relieving that she doesn’t have to sleep like she’s desperate for it. Shades of the bone-tired woman he had coffee with a week ago still remain – her bleary, addled amazement as her younger sister gleefully announced his arrival at their grandparents’ brownstone, her gentle slump in his passenger’s seat as she quietly watched the city pass by – but she has her light back, the glow that pushes from her as she finds him a file, chats with Mildred and Bob over lunch, sheepishly hops up on stage to play with the Putman house band, and rests here on her building’s roof. 

He abandons his article about illness threats to women factory workers – interesting how the men on the line next to them don’t face the same risk – to watch her for a while. It’s strange that she’s here now, in front of him, after so many months of wanting to see her, of writing down stories that would be easier to tell in person, of picking white and yellow wildflowers on the side of the runway in Tennessee and wishing he could tuck them behind her ear and watch her smile, bright, blinding. He thinks of her more than he knows what to do with. 

Her face is turned toward him, brushed gold by the sun beating down over her round cheek and slight chin, the oval of her pink mouth, the heart of her Cupid’s bow. He’d kissed that beautiful, wide, flat nose, and brushed his thumb indulgently over her soft skin under the cover of night, but the light reveals the best of her. The small of her back, a heart-freckle on her shoulder, the curve of her spine – he wants to touch.

Hesitantly, he traces a knuckle over her shoulder blade and she stirs, but doesn’t wake. One finger, then another, then the rest, then his palm and he listens to her breathing as he rubs her back. It manages to be musical, like everything about her, as it matches the pace of the horns popping in and out of the Crosby tune floating up from the street. With our full crew aboard and our trust in the Lord, comin’ in on a wing and a prayer. He’s never been a fan of Crosby – crooners are killing the art of big band – but he doesn’t sound half bad when Robert can watch Dora’s lashes flutter as she stretches out on the plush, striped wool under them.

What’re you gonna do about that girl, his mother had asked him as he left this morning. 

Jeannie laughed from their dining table. Something stupid.

Something helpful, he insisted. 

Something helpful.

He stops rubbing her back before he really does something stupid – brush away the hair falling into her eyes, feel the freckle on her shoulder with his teeth – and pulls out the note he’d written as she was making them lemonade. Be right back. Standing, he discards his unbuttoned shirt, leaves the note on top, and grabs his edition of the Times before descending the fire escape ladder at the back of the building and slipping into Dora’s apartment. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to adjust, but as soon as he regains his bearings, he gets to work.

Kitchen first. There’s not much to do; he sweeps, collects the sugar that had spilled on the counter, discards the empty lemon rinds, and washes the dishes in the sink. He picks up around the living room, scooping fallen petals from the purple flowers in her windowsill, placing stray records back in their sleeves – not without putting Benny Goodman on first, and he’s in the middle of organizing the newspapers on top of the piano when he flips through a May edition on a whim and his eyes catch black ink in the margins, two words hastily scrawled next to a small article. For Robert. The headline circled, $3,629,000 FOR REFUGEES; Jewish Relief Unit Appropriates Funds. 

He remembers this. She’d written him about it along with assurances that the new Jewish families in the neighborhood were adjusting well. Her Yiddish is rudimentary, her German sparse, and her Polish non-existent, but she made sure to greet them all with a smile when passing by on the street or the bus, and she’d joined an antifascist coalition with her grandparents that had seen her speak in front of jeering crowds at borough council meetings and counter protesters at aid rallies. But they don’t bother me, she wrote.

That’s Dora, kind and fierce. She’s going to make a damn fine lawyer. 

There are a few more of her notes as he skims through the papers and leaves them on top of the piano. He tidies the worn cushions in her window sill and it brings him no small amount of peace to picture her reading there with her legs curled under her, basking in the sun during the day and aglow with warm lamplight at night. 

He goes to look for a duster for the piano and gets lost reshuffling her broom closet for half an hour.

This wasn’t the plan. The plan was to pick her up in Harlem, change into their bathing suits here, and spend the afternoon on Coney Island before coming back to Brooklyn and getting ready for an early dinner at Rosetti’s followed by a show on Broadway. The tickets, nervously purchased over the phone yesterday evening while Jeannie cried with silent laughter and picked up as he drove through Manhattan this morning, sit above him next to Dora in the front pocket of his shirt. They can wait there until Germany surrenders for all he cares, as long as she sleeps in peace. There’s no use in running around the city if she can’t wake up with a lighter heart tomorrow. 

He’s not blaming anyone – there’s a war on – but he likes to think that if he were home, he wouldn’t have let her work herself into the ground. Surely someone had noticed the shadows growing under her eyes, her smile fading as the days went. How could they live without it?

And selfishly, he wanted one last look. Dora had circled the numbers in the papers; twelve bombers lost, fifteen, seventeen, twenty. Whatever that meant for him, a homecoming or a gold star in his mother’s window, he wants to remember what he’s fighting for. His older sister’s incessant teasing; the joy in Mrs. Schuman’s voice when he enters her bagel shop – her son Robert, also a lieutenant, didn’t make it off Guadalcanal; and the way Dora’s little brother protests that he doesn’t need her to adjust his hair and his tie before he goes to lunch at his sweetheart’s place but still lets her kiss his cheek on her way out the door. He’s fighting so that Darren doesn’t have to, so that Jews and Poles and the French get to kiss their little brothers’ cheeks, too, out from under the boot of authoritarianism.

A pair of gloves fall from a high shelf and hit him in the forehead. The Benny Goodman record has ended, and he places the gloves in a box marked WINTER before heading back out into the apartment. One of Dora’s shirts snaps in the breeze through the kitchen window. Laundry, right.

Dora rouses gradually, laying with her eyes closed for a few moments before she notices the quiet, no more children laughing or the radio playing. Rolling over, she opens her eyes. The sun is further across the sky than she’d thought it’d be, and she sits up with a start as she checks her watch – 4:30. Shit, shit, shit. She hops to her feet and sees that Robert isn’t beside her, a note left atop his shirt in his neat, even hand. Be right back. She’ll meet him downstairs; she needs to get out of the heat and get to work.

A cool wind blows, making her shiver and she throws Robert’s shirt on, which matches the light blue of her bathing suit, and her stomach does a funny wiggle. They used to show up to the office in the same colors weekly – it’s nice to know that some things don’t change.

The fabric is soft, well-loved, and as she runs her hands down it, her fingers catch on something in the breast pocket. Looking down, she sees two thin strips tucked in the fabric, and fishing them out, she rubs the sleep out of her eyes to read the print.

Broadhurst Theatre. 44th St. Evening - Sunday. E 19.

Robert Rosenthal, you didn’t.

She yanks the blanket from the ground, grabs the lemonade pitcher, and throws on her shoes – interior soles burning after hours baking in the heat – before leaping down the ladder and taking the stairs two at a time. He’s wide-eyed at her sudden entrance, holding one of her work blouses as she pushes through the window, slightly woozy at the green tinge everything takes coming out of the sun. They’re both frozen for a moment.

“Did you buy these?”

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

“I asked first,” she says, holding out the tickets.

There goes that damn dimple as he smiles softly, not helping slow her heart hammering in her chest. “I, uh, I got us a dinner reservation at Rosetti’s, too.” He folds her blouse over a bare forearm and she’s hit with so many thoughts at once – she doesn’t have anything to wear to the theater; he’s not wearing a shirt and she can see the firm muscle of his stomach and the arch of his hip bones; he’s doing her laundry, brassieres included; she still has to do her readings; he’s not wearing a shirt – that she starts to laugh, heaving, side-splitting guffaws. Of course he did.

This is what he does – waltzes into her life, shows her just how good it can be, just how kind the world can get, then leaves and she’s a better, lonelier person for it. Here he is, in her dead parents’ home, doing her laundry because she couldn’t manage, telling her he planned a night for them, that he chose her over a Yankees’ game or a show at Minton’s or simply an evening in with his darling mother, and he’ll be gone in three days, off to be a shield against evil, off to save the world after watching her nearly fall asleep on her feet in a dirty kitchen and still deciding to come back for her.

She laughs until she wheezes, until she’s folded over and her abdomen cramps, until there are tears in her eyes and she doesn’t know if she’s happy or heartbroken. 

“Dora.” He’s in front of her now, smelling of heat and leather and chlorine like he got the Bab-O out from under her sink.

“What have you done?” she asks as she stands and wipes her eyes. And here she was thinking they might get dinner at Cal’s.

His face falls, eyes turning big and sad like a kicked puppy, his dark brows furrow, and it nearly sends her into another fit but she manages to stay upright. “We don’t have to go if—I thought that—”

She shakes her head vigorously and reaches up to hold his cheeks, his stupid, perfect cheeks. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

His smile is so bright that it beats the sun outside and she gets lucky with where her fingertips have landed because those glorious laugh lines find themselves where she can touch them. He turns his head just so and squints as if he’s listening to a good song and steps into her, setting his hands on her hips. 

This is where they kiss in the pictures, and the thought is so laughable that she chuckles aloud before throwing her arms around his shoulders as his slip around her waist. It’s warm, not sunbathing warm, but good all the same.

“Thank you,” she murmurs in his ear. Tears bite at her eyes.

“You deserve it,” he says.

They stay in an embrace until she realizes that she still doesn’t have anything to wear and they have to get all the way to Midtown in traffic. She stands back with a sniff. “I need to borrow a dress from Jeannie.”

[cherrycola27]

Red, White, and Rooster

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Frenemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part

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

Chapter 20: The First Family

You had thought that getting Bradley elected was going to be the most difficult challenge that you ever faced in your life.

You were wrong. It turns out that parenting twins while trying to get your husband reelected was much harder. You always felt like you were doing too much and not enough at the same time.

Bradley felt the same way. He felt like he spent too much time campaigning and not enough time with Andy and Elle. But then he would feel guilty for not campaigning enough. He couldn't count the number of times he thought about throwing in the towel. But you would be there to remind him that he wasn't alone. You would always be in his corner and support him no matter what.

Thankfully, the two of you had a great support system. Maverick and Penny were staying in D.C. indefinitely. Their daughter Amelia loved the twins and babysat them on occasion. If they were available, Jake and Jaycee were always ready to lend a hand.

Members of your close staff also loved having Andy and Elle around.

You and Bradley figured out a way to make it work. Which sometimes included Bradley giving a campaign speech or addressing his cabinet with one twin strapped in a carrier on the front, and another on the back.

He was determined to be there for all their major milestones, from first words to first teeth, to more recently first steps.

He'd been with you through sleepless nights, fevers, rashes, colic, and changed more diapers than you could count.

Currently, the two of you were in his campaign office waiting for the polls to close. Pete and Penny had the twins while you, Bradley, Jake, and Jaycee were waiting with baited breath for the election results.

As Bradley squeezed your hand, you couldn't help but think about how, four years ago, the two of you were almost in this exact same position.

You couldn't believe how much had changed in these past four years, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

You ran your fingers through his hair and jumped up to wrap your legs around his waist as he held you close. You didn't tell him that you could just forget about it. Instead, you told him to take you to bed.

This time, when Bradley kissed you after he'd been declared the winner of the election, you didn't pull away from him.

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

The halls of the White House were quiet as Bradley carried you bridal style through them. The two of you slipped quietly into your bedroom and locked the door.

You kissed each other with fervor and passion as you rid one another of your clothing.

Bradley gently laid you on the bed and paused for a moment to just admire you. He'd had you bare before him many times, but something about tonight was different. You were practically glowing against the sheets.

He took his time, tasting every inch of your skin before diving into your core. His lips and tongue danced between your folds, drawing out the most pleasurable and melodious sounds he'd ever heard.

Your soft cries and whimpers of his name were his national anthem, and he would gladly lay himself at your feet any day, just to hear you sing it.

After working you over with his lips and fingers, carefully eased your legs over his shoulders and slid into you. He held you tightly as the two of you made love.

He caressed every inch of you, and when you locked eyes as the two of you finished, you swear it was like he was peering into your soul.

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

It was unseasonably warm in D.C. as you and Bradley prepared for his second inauguration.

You'd already dressed the twins, and they were currently being occupied by Jake and Jaycee.

You would get them before Bradley's ceremony and have them with you as he was being sworn in for his second term.

The two of you needed to get going soon, but currently, Bradley had you bent over the edge of your bed as he drove into you from behind. A last-minute, get rid of the nerves romp. You could only imagine what it he looked like, fucking you from behind while wearing his full suit.

After finishing and cleaning the two of you up, he helped you with your necklaces.

"We are going to be late because someone could keep their hands to themselves." You smirked at him.

"I didn't hear you complain." Bradley shot back.

"I never said I didn't enjoy myself, I just wish you would have gotten it out of your system before I showered. I wasn't exactly planning on the extra accessory you left me with," you tell him. You can still feel his spend inside you.

"I revel in the fact that you're going to be standing on the capital steps in your pretty little coat dress, holding the Bible for me while filled with my cum." Bradley whispered.

"Bradley!" You scold him as you follow him into the hallway.

"Make sure you wear those god-forsaken pantyhose today, though. Don't want any photographers catching a shot of it dripping down your thighs. Would hate to cause a scandal." Bradley groaned in your ear before stepping out of the room.

"What? I thought we could make an inauguration baby." He chuckles before lacing his fingers with yours and walking with you down the hall.

The two of you meet up with Warner, Jake, Jaycee, Maverick, Penny, and the twins just in time. If anyone noticed Bradley's slightly askew tie or the way you shifted from foot to foot, or the blush that both of you shared, no one said a thing.

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

"Okay, kids, big smiles for Daddy. Okay?" You tell your twins, as you and Bradley each grab one of them and walk out onto the capital steps. The roar of the crowd stuns Andy, but he smiles anyway. Elle, who definitely had her father's personality, waves to everyone and blows kisses.

To be just under a year old, Andy and Elle are extremely well behaved at the inauguration. In a last-minute change of plans, Jake comes over and hoists Elle into his arms while you grab Andy and hold him. You carefully take one of each of their hands and yours, and together, all three of you have the honor of holding the Bible for Bradley.

He smiles but shoots you a knowing wink just as he finishes the oath of office for the second time.

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

"C'mon, Mrs. Second Lady." You teased Jaycee.

"Would you stop with that?" She shot back as she fiddled with her wedding rings, still not used to the weight of them. It had only been about two months since she and Jake had tied the knot.

"You know you love it, Jaycee Seresin." You continued.

Jaycee wanted to shoot back a witty reply, but she stopped to collect herself. "Still not over that morning sickness yet?" You asked her as she took some deep breaths. "Is it really morning sickness if it happens all day?" She joked before swallowing the anti-nausea medicine her doctor prescribed her.

"The twins weren't bad, and so far, this one hasn't been either." You told her as you patted your stomach. In a twist of fate, you and Jaycee found out that you were both pregnant at the same time and due only a few days apart. You and Bradley were right about them having a baby within their first year of marriage.

"So you still planning on telling Jake tonight?" You ask her. "Yep. You're still telling Bradley tonight, too, right?" She shoots back.

"I am. I'm surprised he hasn't figured it out yet. He even made the comment that he hasn't been this insatiable since my last pregnancy." You laugh.

"TMI, babe. TMI." Jaycee shutters.

The two of you were in your bedroom putting the finishing touches on your outfits for the inaugural ball. Jaycee's shoe strap had broken, so she was currently looking through your shoe collection for a new pair to wear.

After finding a pair of black pumps, she slips them on and adjusts her dress in your mirror. She places a hand over her still flat stomach.

"Did we really both get pregnant on election night?" She laughs.

"Yeah, we did." You snort. "'After the twins were born, Bradley and I made a bet that you and Jake would be expecting before your first anniversary, Bradley thought it would be a honeymoon baby." You tell her. Jaycee stares at you in shock, but honestly, she isn't surprised. She and Jake were just as bad, if not worse, than you and Bradley.

"Okay. I'm ready. Let's go." She states. The two of you loop arms and walk out towards your awaiting husbands.

You enjoy this inaugural ball so much more than the last one. You aren't working, and you are able to be present in the moment with Bradley. He's a sucker for tradition, so the two of you dance once again to "Time of My Life," only this time, your children join you.

Later, Bradley sweeps you away for a dance that's just the two of you. You lay your head on his chest as he hums along to the tune.

"Y/N," He breaks the silence the two of you share.

"Yes, Dearest?" You ask him.

"So, I've been thinking." Bradley starts.

"What a terrifying statement." You joke with him. He rolls his eyes.

"Like I was saying, what if we renewed our vows?" Bradley asks you.

"Why?" You ask him looking at him confused.

"Because the first time we did it, it wasn't for the right reason. Maybe deep down it was, but I want to marry you again. For real this time." Bradley says.

"You're serious? You really want to do that?" You ask him, just to be sure.

"It doesn't have to be anything big, just the people closest to us." Bradley smiles at you.

"Okay. Let's do it." You agree.

"Yeah?" He asks you. "Yeah." You tell him before sealing your promise with a kiss.

"What do you say we sneak out of here a little early, Mrs. Bradshaw? Enjoy some time to ourselves." Bradley propositions you.

He doesn't have to ask you twice. The two of you sneak out of the banquet hall hand in hand, giggling like a couple of idiots. Bradley swipes an open champagne bottle as you steal away in the night.

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

The two of you lay there on your bed in peaceful silence. Both of you are too tired and too comfortable to move. Bradley loosens his tie and drops it to the floor as he kicks off his dress shoes.

Your heels follow closely behind as you shift closer to him. The material of your ballgown wrinkling as you do so.

Bradley takes a long drink from the champagne bottle he picked up before offering some. You politely decline. He shrugs it off an takes another sip.

"I can't believe the president snuck out of his own inaugural ball early." You joke. Bradley wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer.

"It was worth it to spend a few minutes alone with my best girl." He tells you.

You smile up and him and take a deep breath before speaking.

"Bradley." You begin. "Yes?" He hums gently.

"I'm pregnant."

~Fin~

Taglist: @daggerspare-standingby @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @hecate-steps-on-me @roosterscock @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @seresinsbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @xoxabs88xox @avengersfan25 @blackwidownat2814 @loveforaugust @mak-32 @cottagecori @amysteryspot @heyimmadisonn @sunlightmurdock @lewmagoo @cassiemitchell @die-cunt @shipinabluebottle @malindacath @violyn20 @imawkwardlysoc @books-for-summer @blackroseboulevard @recordblues @desert-fern @luckyladycreator2 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @sebsxphia @roosters-girl @diorrfairy @je-suis-prest-rachel @mizzzpink @a-linabean @amklibrary @gretagerwigsmuse @jstarr86 @actuallyazriel @krismdavis @bradshawsbaby @wkndwlff @dakotakazansky @multifandomlover4life @princess76179

[emcscared-whumps]

A lovely little scene from Shifting Phases i drew for a challenge over on WLC last year :) (awh, he hasn't tried to escape yet, how cute <3) I'm usually slow at drawing, but I had my phone, some spare time, and a whole lot of inspiration for the prompts "water" and "bloody surface" lol

How did I not post actual whump art of mine on the tungle?? Who knows lol, not me

Pete Spencer's character profile is [Here]

[tgmsunmontue]

You need to learn how to fall 8/10

Hangster (and IceMav) - Bradley is too tall to be a naval aviator and instead becomes a sky diver, specialising in spin recovery. He is a civilian contractor to the military to teach pilots how to survive parachute spins from ejections. A more in-depth version of this post.

(Likely to be updating this daily now until it's finished, another 2-3 parts max).

PROLOGUE 2003-2006 2007-2010 2011-2015 2016+ ~2019 ~2019 (contd 1)

>>Bradley

>>Jake

(2019 continued - Part 2)

                He’s offered a drink and he accepts a cup of coffee, even if it’s the last thing his nerves need. Maverick is watching him over his own hot drink, and Iceman is quietly sitting there and Jake feels so out of his depth. He’s not familiar enough with the Admiral, but he’s never clocked a wedding ring on Maverick in the last couple of weeks, but there is definitely one there now and the Admiral is wearing one as well. Okay then. A plate of plane-shaped shortbread is on the coffee table and he stares at them, because this all feels a little surreal. Maverick sees him staring at them and pushes the plate closer.

                “You can have some, they’re good. Ice’s favorite.”

                “I know they’re good. Bradley sent me some…”

                “Did he now? Should have known he didn’t eat that many himself…” Iceman murmurs quietly and Jake can hear the underlying amusement and he wonders how Bradley managed to talk all about his upbringing and at the same time completely fail to mention who he lived with. Who raised him. He wonders when exactly Bradley was planning on telling him and he reaches for a cookie. He’s chewing when he hears steps thump up onto the porch and he doesn’t miss the look the Maverick and Iceman exchange.

                “Hey, I’m home! Whose car is in the drive?”

                “We’re through here!” Iceman calls out, and Jake would swear he’s holding back laughter. Then Bradley is standing in the doorway, curls almost brushing the top of the doorframe and even travel-rumpled he looks good. Jake stands, brushes his hands on his pants and is torn between what he should do.

                “Shit. Jake. Hi.” At least he looks happy to see him, grinning and Jake grins back, immediately feeling more relaxed at Bradley’s easy acceptance of his unexpected presence.

                “Hi. Was going to surprise you.”

                “Think he got the surprise though.”

                “Pete, shut up,” Iceman says, and he’s standing as well, reaching and tugging on Maverick’s hand.

                “We’ll leave you to it. Nice to meet you Jake.”

                “And you sir.”

                He turns back to Bradley, who has shifted into the room, letting Maverick and Iceman move past him and he looks nervous now, glancing at where Maverick and Iceman have disappeared to and back to Jake.

                “So. There’s that. Still want to date me?”

                The expression on his face is blank and Jake realizes it’s a challenge, that maybe he thinks Jake will say no because he’s now in the too-hard basket or something. Well, he’s going to learn that Jake never backs down from a challenge, and he’s wanted this for years and he’s not going to let a Captain and an Admiral stop him. Especially as all they seem to be is amused by the whole thing.

                “Yes.”

                “Really?”

                “I mean, I would have liked a heads up, but I –”

                “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for you to find out this way. I wanted to tell you in person, because I know they’re kind of a big deal…”

                “Not your fault, I shouldn’t have just turned up on your doorstep.”

                “You turned up on my doorstep…” Bradley says, and the grin he gives Jake then is bright, fingers are tugging at his belt loops, drawing him close and he can feel the heat building between their bodies.

                “I sure did. Hi.”

                “Not actually his doorstep, his doorstep is next door… It’s A for Admiral and B for Bradley, it’s not that hard to remember!”

                “Mav! For fucks sake, leave them alone. Sorry about him. Though you do have your own place Bradley…”

                “Yeah yeah, going now… I’m just going to go and grab my bag. One second.”

                Then Bradley is going back outside, Jake doesn’t even get a word in, and the Admiral is back, looking at him, and it’s definitely Admiral Kazansky, not Tom or Iceman, expression deadly serious.

                “Lieutenant. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention to anyone what you learnt tonight.”

                “Learnt what? I simply surprised Bradley on his return home sir,” Jake states, because he can keep his mouth shut, especially for this. Also he hates to think about any of the alternatives if he doesn’t. Oh fuck, he can never break Bradley’s heart. He’ll be a dead man. Or permanently stationed in the South Pacific shuttling shellbacks back and forth over the equator, or in Antarctica watching Hercules land and take off and then nothing but darkness for months on end.

                “Good man. Thank you.”

…             …             …

                Bradley leads Jake through to his part of house, shoves the door open and then deadlocks it behind him, dumping his bags and turning toward Jake. It’s still relatively early, they could go out for dinner, if that’s what Jake wanted.

                “Sorry about that trial by fire, I really didn’t mean for you to have to go through that. At least not without me there as well.”

                “It’s okay. Could have been a lot worse. I am very curious as to how you know them though…”

                “Mav is my godfather. My dad knew Tom from flight school, and they were all at Top Gun when my dad died. So I inherited a lot of honorary uncles and all of them fly… jumping out of planes to get away from them was just a coping mechanism…” Bradley jokes, and he doesn’t get much further as Jake’s hand is in his hair, fingers twisting in his curls, bringing his face down to meet his lips with a kiss. It’s gorgeously soft, gentle but with layers of promise and intensity and he lets himself just melt into it; the relief of Jake being completely unworried about Ice and Mav washing through him. He feels Jake’s hand on his hip, bringing him close and he lets himself press close.

                “Welcome home,” Jake murmurs against his lips, and he grins, places another kiss against the corner of his lips.

                “Mmm. Definitely up there with the top five best times I’ve come home…”

                “Let’s take it into first place hmm?”

                “You sure I can’t interest you in dinner, or a shower? We don’t have to, uh, just fall into having sex… not that I have a problem with that either.”

                “All of the above, I could eat, definitely interested in helping you shower, more than interested in having sex. But it’s not just sex. I want to date you…”

                “Yeah… okay. That all sounds great. We’ve been dancing around each other for long enough I guess…”

                “And whose fault is that?”

                “Couldn’t have you thinking I was easy.”

                “Nothing about you suggests that you’re easy. However, everything suggests that you’re worth it…”

                Bradley can feel the flush in his cheeks, embarrassed at the sincerity in Jake’s voice, but Jake is running a hand over his chest, stomach, pressing firmer over his crotch where he is definitely getting hard and he groans, lets his own hand squeeze one of Jake’s ass cheeks.

                “How about we place a food order for something to be delivered in… hmm… ninety minutes. That’ll give us enough time for that shower.”

                “Jesus, how long are your showers?”

                “It’s what comes after the first shower and before the second shower…”

                “I’m an idiot…”

                “It’s okay, I think you might be a little distracted right now.”

                “You’re a menace,” Bradley mutters, ducking his head enough to nip at Jake’s neck.

                “You like it.”

                “I do…”

                They figure out what to order, but the whole time they orbit each other, Jake doesn’t seem to want to stop touching him, like he doesn’t want to risk Bradley disappearing on him and he has no reason not to accommodate it. Let’s him flick the buttons on his shirt out, place kisses on skin as it’s exposed and he returns the favor, undresses Jake with the same level of care.

                “How?” Jake asks, his fingers running lightly over the scars on his chin, jaw, neck.

                “Bad landing. Came in too fast. Broke my arm…”

                “Oh, I watched a video of that.”

                “Really?”

                Jake blushes and Bradley forces himself not to laugh in delight, thinking that Jake is obviously as enamored of him to have looked at old jump videos. He pulls him under the spray of water and lets the warm water fall over them, brings the shower head much lower than he usually has it so Jake can actually look at him without getting a face full of water.

                “Yeah, a while ago now.”

                “Really? How long ago?”

                “Few years. When we first met,” Jake says, head ducking to not meet his eyes, mouth sucking at the skin of his left pec in an obvious attempt to distract him, so he lets Jake get his way. Runs a hand through Jake’s now slick hair, urges him to meet his mouth in a kiss, shifts his body to press against him, lets his free hand run to cup Jake’s growing erection.

                “God your hands… they feel huge.”

                “I’m proportional,” Bradley says, gripping tighter, starting a slow teasing hand job.

                “Yeah you are… holy shit.”

                “Shut up, you’re making me self-conscious.”

                “No wonder your brain stops working, all your blood is needed here…” Jake says, palming Bradley’s cock and he laughs, presses himself into Jake’s hand.

                They stand there, unrushed, hands moving on each other’s cocks, mouths licking over wet skin, back to kissing before exploring somewhere else. The skin over Jake’s collar irritates easily, his moustache making the skin red, and he wonders if it’s going to be a thing all over, scrapes his chin with its stubble over the flesh of Jake’s shoulder and yep, looks like it. He’s achingly hard and a little surprised at it, then realizes it’s probably the weeks and months of flirting, this build-up, the wanting this, gaining momentum with every message and phone call, regardless of the content.

                He feels Jake’s hand slip around them both and he grunts, shifts a little to accommodate the height difference because while Jake’s not short, he’s also nowhere near as tall as Bradley. He lets his hand cover Jake’s, moves with it, catches Jake’s mouth with his own and revels in the little broken sounds they’re both making.

                All his senses feel hyperaware, the smooth feel of Jake’s skin under his fingers as he touches his cock, body pressed against him in other places, Jake’s fingers digging into his bicep, his own fingers in Jake’s hair. The non-taste of the shower water making the taste of Jake’s mouth even sweeter where he can taste the coffee and lemon-rosemary shortbread he’d been eating. There’s no build up of scent, the running water doesn’t allow for it, but he gets little whiffs, sweaty arousal before it’s rinsed away. The sound of water hitting the hard tiles, glass door and skin creating all sorts of different rhythms, slick skin and their shared breath, coming faster as their lips slide in messy kisses.

                The sight though, the sight he’s being afforded is something else again. Golden hue of Jake’s skin turned red in places by Bradley’s own doing, dark blonde hair turned dark under the water, lips swollen, cock disappearing between their joined hands, his eyes either watching Bradley with intensity or squeezing tightly shut as his hips jerk a little into their combined grip. It’s all stunning. He can’t tell if Jake’s close, doesn’t know him like this well enough, looks forward to becoming well acquainted with all his tells.

                “Close, god you’re hot…”

                “Fuck yes, come on…”

                He doesn’t bother holding back, lets his orgasm wash through him, his entire body shuddering with the release and he groans appreciatively. Feels good. So good. Now he can focus on Jake, drop to his knees and suck him off, or keep the hand job going, whatever the hell he wants, Bradley will give it to him. Which is a harder firmer grip on his cock, Jake guiding his hand now. He tightens and jerks quickly, presses his mouth to Jake’s neck and sucks, feels Jake starting to tremble and he moves quickly, letting go for the briefest of moments which still draws a whine of discontent from Jake. Then he’s behind him, his cock pressing against Jake’s ass, but the angle for his hand is imminently better and he can’t kiss Jake easily like this, but he can definitely focus on getting him off and he murmurs words against the edge of Jake’s ear, tells him how much he wants to see him come apart for him.

                Jake shakes and trembles as he comes and Bradley holds him against his chest, his hand slowing until Jake jerks away, over sensitive and he pulls his hand away; peppering the back of Jake’s neck and across his shoulders with kisses before Jake is turning and kissing him firmly, hands on either side of his face.

                “Welcome home. Properly.”

                “Welcome home handjob. That’s a tradition I could get behind…”

                “I aim to please…” Jake says, and Bradley can feel the smile against his chest and he can’t stop smiling in return.

                They dry off and he’s a little disappointed to note that the redness of beard burn is fading already, he goes through his drawers and tries to find something that might fit Jake, their torsos are similarly sized, but his pants are all going to swim on him.

                “Get you something of Mav’s to wear…” Bradley says as he watches Jake pull on a pair of his old pajama pants, rolling up the legs. He looks soft, hair going fluffy, also wearing one of Bradley’s old University t-shirts, which actually fits given how much it’s shrunk over the years. He draws Jake down onto the sofa with him, tucks himself around him and lets himself exhale, feeling warm and content, everything settling around him.

                He can’t believe that Jake’s here, not just here in San Diego but in his home. The warm honey-like joy crystallizes into something harder, colder and he realizes that Jake is here, being trained by Mav for something, because he’d still be having nearly daily phone calls with them while he was away. They’ve become very accustomed at having conversation which speak volumes without giving specifics. He doesn’t have that practice with Jake though, hadn’t thought about getting further information from either Mav or Ice. Doesn’t know if he wants to bring it up but can’t ignore what he knows is coming.

                “So, you’re here for whatever top secret mission Mav is currently working on, the one that is making Ice incapable of sleeping. Potentially a mission that Mav is also going on, which means it’s fucking risky because his call sign isn’t Maverick because he plays it safe.”

                “You jump out of planes for a living.”

                “Yes, and yet there are still less deaths in that then there are amongst naval aviators.”

                Jake lets out a long breath and Bradley waits.

                “What do you know about the mission?”

                “Nothing. Well. Highly classified. Mav having to teach a bunch of young upstarts. I commiserated with him.” Jake snorts and ducks his head, flushes a little and he wonders what else is there that he doesn’t know about. “When do you fly out?”

                “Monday, oh-five-hundred.”

                “Fuck. So a little over two days.”

                “Yeah. You can see why I didn’t particularly want to wait until tomorrow night to see you.”

                “Yeah, I’m glad you decided to come see me tonight… how did you get the address anyway?”

                “You put it on the package of cookies you sent me.”

                “Oh. Right. Of course, makes sense that it was just… not my part of the house address. I do actually have my own front door. You aren’t going to have to go through Mav and Ice each time you want to see me.”

                “I’d do it anyway.”

PART NINE

[rosielovesspence]

I think your requests are open. Sorry if I missed something saying they were closed. But I just finished twdg season 2, and I'm in shambles. I love Luke and definitely looked to him as a big brother figure that I never had. I was hoping we could get a fic or headcanons about him sort of in Lee's place? Like he finds a young kid and takes them in for a while. Yeah, hopefully that makes sense.

Pookie my requests are never closed 🎀 I love him sm, he'd so be a girl dad tbh

🎀 Luke was genuinely terrified when he found you, I mean this random apocalypse starts and you're in the woods.

🎀 He's horrified by the thought of having to kill a kid, and luckily you prove you're not infected and he doesn't have to

🎀 Luke doesn't even have the time to worry about if he can care for you or not before he's got you piggyback carrying you back to the house

🎀 Everyone else is fond of you, but since Luke found you they make you fully his responsibility

🎀Everyone else will kindly offer you things but Luke is much more insistent, whereas Pete would ask "Are you hungry?" Luke is already handing you a sandwich saying, "Eat. You're hungry."

🎀He may seem strict at times but truly he's just panicked about making sure you're safe, he make have small panic streaks and yell if you go somewhere by yourself but he's trying

🎀 If you're on your best behavior though, so is he, carrying you piggyback around the house or letting you do normal kid stuff and paint his nails (the nail polish is probably expired but you have fun so he doesn't care)

🎀 Teaching you how to shoot and stab was another challenge, he didn't want you to have to fight anything but having to teach you things was crazy.

🎀 The hardest part of having you is finding you clothes while you're so small and young. Most of the time he has to find XL clothes and have Carlos use his needle work to crop and shrink them to be your size.

🎀Finding you young was quite an experience when he had to go on field missions and came back with crayons and paper instead of ammo

🎀 Once you became older it's much easier, you're much more mature and attentive but with Luke around you're definitely less mature than the average kid your age

🎀 Eventually when Luke finds Clem you confused her. Since she was raised to immediately meet the scary world, your innocence and joking manner scares her, it's only cause you've been raised getting a kiss on the cheek and hug before bed by Luke

🎀 Everyone can tell you're the most important thing to him, putting himself in danger constantly to protect you, showing you off to the others anytime you do anything good

"Woah! Pete, look, look! Y/n did these!" Luke would hold up a target paper, showing you hit the bullseye and then in the other hand a photo you drew of him and you. "Wow Luke, they've got a good shot, but you've shown me that drawing already, they drew it when they were six." Luke chuckled, "I know but it's just so cute."

🎀 I'm mentioned it before but piggyback rides are an everyday thing with this man.

"Whatcha doing?" Luke walked up behind you on the couch as you played on a small game console you found. "I found this old thing! It's got Zelda on it!" You told him excitedly before shrieking as he picked you up off the couch, sitting your legs on his shoulders and holding you up there. "Put me down!" You yell out while giggling. So he semi drops you so your arms are around his neck. "Much better." He walks you around the house, holding your legs up with his arms as you laughed.