#sorry if this is overly defensive | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

transxfiles · 2 years

Text

lost phineas and ferb episode where perry is called to investigate what dr doofenshmirtz is up to because carl the intern got ahold of some intel that doof has been seen speaking to lawyers and looking up the endangered species act at internet cafes and as major monogram says, "something fishy is going on"

meanwhile phineas and ferb's subplot of "i know what we're gonna do today!" is that isabella needs her environmentalist fireside girls badge so they start researching which species are in urgent need of help in the tri-state area so that they can use new cloning and gene therapy technologies to bring at-risk animals back from extinction

(yes there is a c-plot where buford and baljeet argue the ethics of this idea, i don't have time to explain it all for you rn)

we cut back to🎵doofenshmirtz evil incorporated🎵where we see perry carefully maneuvering around doofenshmirtz's lab scared he might fall into a trap but he hasn't set off a single booby trap and it's clear something is off

he runs into doofenshmirtz and goes to kick him in the gut action movie style but doof steps back one overly confident and says, "nuh uh uh, you see perry the platypus, you are TRAPPED! by the danville section of the endangered species act of 1973!"

doof goes on to explain his tragic backstory: "you see, perry the platypus, when i was a child my parents did not show up for my own birth! but you know that already, yadda yadda yadda they did not love me and then they loved roger more, ANYways i was raised by ocelots! i had a lovely foster mother who took me in and made me one of the pride, and so you see, perry the platypus, i am still legally considered an ocelot. did you know that there are only 50 recorded ocelots still alive in the continental united states? very sad for me as a member of a near-extinct species. it would be immoral for you to hurt someone critically endangered... in fact, you have made many attempts on my life this summer"

[montage of doof's security camera footage of their battles]

"which is why i have decided to bring you... TO COURT!" we cut back to phineas and ferb's back yard where they've decided to start cloning ocelots in their kiddie pool

candace storms outside enraged and says, "phineas and ferb are you cloning ocelots in my duckie momo kiddie pool!?"

ferb's one line of the episode is "well, i guess it's more of a kitty pool, now"

candace storms away saying, "i'm going to tell mom!" and isabella turns to phineas and says, "oh, does your mom have experience in wildlife conservation?"

we cut back to the doof and perry plotline where the two are now in the danville hall of justice and we learn that doof has spent his monthly alimony check on a defense lawyer and perry turns and sees the lawyer and then vanessa helping her organize her briefcase and perry chitters at her and vanessa shrugs and says, "i'm thinking about going into legal defense. sorry perry."

the rest of the doof and perry b-plot is spent in court and perry is about to ask for a public defense lawyer when carl runs into the room and explains that he's owca's official legal defense and perry looks at him like, "uhhh is that even allowed?"

it doesn't matter because apparently the judge is out sick today but because it's danville roger's the judge now because he's the mayor and everyone loves him.

the court case continues.

meanwhile phineas and ferb have successfully cloned multiple ocelots from the original ocelot dna they had on hand and isabella asks phineas if these clones will experience health problems like premature aging, phineas casually explains that ferb figured out the problem while they were experimenting with stem cell harvesting.

back in the courtroom, doof's ocelot foster mother has been brought to the stand along with an ocelot to english translator. doof gets emotional seeing her after so long. she says that he was one of her favorite child and he was as strong a hunter as anyone else in the family. it's incredibly sweet. the jury's in tears.

meanwhile, isabella has established connections with a group in texas who are going to release the ocelots back into their natural habitat and, using the cloned ocelots to prevent inbreeding, help establish an ocelot breeding program. the group explains that they are going to send a helicopter to retrieve the cloned ocelots from danville and bring them to texas soon.

isabella gets her fireside girls badge.

candace manages to get mom to see the backyard only after the ocelots have been helicoptered off to coastal texas, their primary habitat.

mom makes it into the backyard as phineas stares wistfully over the fence and says, "if you love something, you have to let it go." candace goes, "look mom look look look!" and points at the ducky momo kiddie pool, devoid of cloned ocelots, where baljeet and buford are now chilling out, having settled their philosophical debate about the ethics of animal cloning.

back in the courtroom drama, doof looks like he's about to win when an attendant walks into the courtroom and whispers something in roger's ear.

roger looks up, grinning, and says, "good news, everyone! my attendant here has just enlightened me that ocelots are no longer considered critically endangered!"

this settles the case, with perry being decreed not guilty and the entire affair being called off. the courtroom cheers, roger walks over to doof and personally congratulates him on his species' return from the brink of extinction.

doof shouts, "curse you endangered species classification system!" at the ceiling of the danville hall of justice.

perry arrives back home just in time for mom to say, "who wants pie?"

the end.

#cricket.chatterbox #phineas and ferb #pnf #dr doofenshmirtz #perry the platypus #phineas flynn #ferb fletcher #greatest hits

44K notes · View notes

luveline · 10 months

Note

Hi lovely!

Can you please do one where Hotch and Reader are in a fight and it gets heated and he maybe raises his hand just because he’s shouting and she flinches?

He would be prepared to FIGHT whoever made his honey feel that way 🗣️🗣️

💘

for you my sweetheart. fem, 1k

cw implied past domestic violence

“It was right,” you're saying, on the defensive, your voice molten, “it was the thing to do!”

“It wasn't.” Hotch closes the door. “It wasn't the right thing to do, it wasn't even close.”

You realise, under everything, that he's right, but you couldn't help yourself, you had to try and save the day, had to swerve the SUV. Plus, he's done it himself, and you both know that. “If Monikie got out of that exit we never would've seen her again.”

“There were roadblocks on the I–46, and I don't think I have to tell you that you could've gotten a lot of people seriously hurt–”

“You've done worse,” you deny.

His expression, broadly furious, narrows into something sharper, “And that is my decision to make, but you report to me.”

“You can't seriously want to act like a boss now,” you say.

The room isn't overly large, and so you stand close to one another with no need for shouting, but your voices begin to overlap. Hotch is so angry. It isn't like him to yell at you, his voice strained.

“You can't truly think that the decision you made today was the right one. You need to calm down, and you need to listen to me when I tell you that this was the wrong move. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.”

“You're shrugging me off?” You could laugh. “You can't be serious. Every member of this team has done the same, or worse–”

“But they're not you!” His voice peeks, his hand jolting out in front of his chest, flat-palmed in incredulity.

You're really quite close to each other.

It's not his fault.

You step back, desperate to be away from the movement, the hand, because it doesn't register as his hand, only there's a chair behind you and a table behind that and you bump into the plastic with a creak and screech. You're righting yourself as quickly as you're tripping but Hotch is already moving away. Three steps that feel like a gorge.

Your heartbeat soars.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.

“Of course.” You breathe out funny. It's not his fault, but there's something wired in your brain now, and it knows that the first strike isn't the last. Your hand shakes as you brush at an itch under your eyes.

“I'm not mad,” he says.

“You sounded pretty mad."

“I've changed my mind.” He gives you a long hard look, and then he moves to the office door to open it before returning to his initial position. He's given you an exit route. “I'm not going to hurt you,” he says.

You put your hands on your hips and bend at the waist, breathing out hard. “Fuck, I know that."

“You thought I might.”

“So profile me,” you say, panicking still, face hot and itchy all over. “Tell me why.”

“Someone's hit you before. Enough to anticipate the second blow.”

“But you knew that already, didn't you?”

Your ears get cloudy like there's water in them and you can't stand the feeling of Hotch's gaze on the back of your head. You force yourself into a standing position and try to ignore what happened.

“You're unfairly angry with me,” you say.

Hotch just shakes his head at you.

“It's… It's not a big deal,” you say, quieter. He already knew because of course he did, every member of the team gets checked. You have records, and he's in a position of power unlike most, he could've read them like the morning paper.

“Why would you say that?”

“I can still do my job.”

“I wasn't going to suggest you couldn't.”

Then why… why is he looking at you like that? You're humiliated enough, and his gaze is so… so soft. So sorry. Tears gather warm behind your eyes and your chest aches like you've been holding your breath. You frown, eyebrows lifting at the starts, not knowing if you should beg him to forget the whole thing or finally give in.

“Come here,” he says gently. Completely optional, his fingertips twitching but stationery at his side.

You stare resolutely at your shoes.

“I'm sorry I scared you, it wasn't my intention. I can imagine how it feels. I'm not mad, honey,” he says. His voice drops to a murmur, “Come here,” he pleads.

You take a clumsy handful of steps and he meets you in the middle, arms going carefully over your shoulders. You'd feel condescended by it if it weren't shockingly nice to be considered in such a way, or if the solid mass of his arms around you didn't soothe. You feel protected rather than boxed in, held, and not restrained.

His hand slides open down the length of your back.

“I'm sorry I scared you,” he repeats, for your ears alone.

“It's not like it was really you that scared me.”

The memory scared you. The flinch was instinctive, less to do with Hotch and more to do with the connection between a moving hand and stinging pain.

He hangs his head by your ear until his nose touches your shoulder, and for a few seconds, it's just you and him together, no fighting, and no fast-approaching hands.

“You didn't scare me,” you mumble, hiding your face in his shoulder instead, forcing him to stand tall.

Incoming footsteps cut your embrace short, but he doesn't pull away too swiftly. His hands grave the lengths of your arms, and he gives you a long, loaded look. Before you can calibrate the action to the man, he's chucking you under the chin, a stroke of his index knuckle, a promise of more to say.

He catches Morgan before he can enter the room and directs him back out. “Take a minute,” he advises you.

You sit in a chair and do as he's offered. Memory is a tricky thing.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

2K notes · View notes

strangerstilinski · 24 days

Note

can you pretty please do [intimidation] with eddie

🥺👉👈

[INTIMIDATION] sender, in an effort to frighten the receiver by invading their personal space, sits in their lap to try and inspire discomfort or fear in them.

cw: alcohol consumption, fem!reader, sort of enemies -> lovers (but actually idiots -> lovers), 2.4k

dividers by @strangergraphics

You're blocking the doorway into the Harrington kitchen, shoulder leaned against the wood panelling where you have a good view into the living room. Your unimpressed glare is drawn from the figure currently hogging the sofa when someone bumps into you just as you're bringing the plastic cup in your hand to your lips.

"Jesus, fucking watch it-" The outrage in your tone fades quick when you see who's run into you.

"Sorry." Jonathan grimaces as he watches you wipe a bit of juice and vodka from your chin.

"No, it's fine," You sigh and turn on your heel, following Jonathan into the kitchen as he begins to grab things to make himself a drink, though it appears to be far more lemon-lime soda and grenadine than anything else. "Sorry, I just.. I dunno, sorry." You shrug before gulping down another mouthful of your own admittedly strong drink. You're kind of hoping that once your buzz kicks in you'll feel just a little less like there's a storm cloud floating right above your head.

"What is with you, tonight?" Jonathan asks with an overly cautious smile, "I haven't seen Munson bug you even once, so it's gotta be somethin' else-"

"Nothing," You huff, a little defensive at just the mention of the other boy, "I'm fine."

"Oh yeah, totally," Jonathan chuckles and raises his newly acquired drink in a salute, "You're like a ray of sunshine tonight."

It's annoying as hell, but he's right. You're fuming and Eddie has yet to even speak to you. He's been avoiding you like the plague from the moment you walked through the door, as if Eddie could somehow sense that you were already in a mood, and he didn't feel like getting told off for being the reason that you finally snapped.

Because normally, Eddie would've found at least seven ways he could irritate you by now. He'd have finished the last of the juice he saw you eyeing for your next mixed drink and laughed maniacally when you pouted about it. He'd have pestered you about whether you might want to join in on another campaign, all while making a handful of little comments about just how easy it'll be for him to decimate your character when you do. He'd have watched you shiver while you passed passed a joint back and forth by the pool, and then draped his stupid jacket around your shoulders just so he could roll his eyes and give you shit about not dressing warmly enough.

Eddie was infuriating — And the worst part was that he knew it. The asshole thrived on pushing buttons and testing people's limits, but tonight evidently he'd been able to tell that you were already toeing dangerously close to yours and had steered clear altogether.

You peer back out into the living room now, narrowed eyes zeroing back in on the figure sprawled across the entire length of the loveseat, socked feet kicked up on the opposite cushion where someone else could be sitting if he weren't such a selfish prick.

"God, what an asshole." You grumble, downing the last of your drink and grabbing the nearest bottle to begin mixing another. "I mean, look at him, seriously. Does he have to take up the whole couch?"

Jonathan's gaze follows the path your own had taken moments before, and he snorts in amusement, "Eddie."

It's not a question, but you answer him as if it had been.

"Yes, Eddie." Another quick glance up into the living room has your eyes locking with the man in question just as his name falls from your lips.

Eddie's eyes go wide, his cheeks dimpling with his sudden grin. He jabs his index finger into his chest, lips moving silently around the words, "Who? Me?"

"Uh-huh.. Why don't you go do something about it?" Jonathan teases.

Eddie's attention is pulled away when Gareth says something from his spot in an armchair. Whatever he says it gets Eddie riled up and he's immediately talking animatedly, hands gesturing wildly as he speaks.

"Maybe I will." You're already moving with purpose, halfway out of the kitchen when you hear your friend shout after you.

"I was joking!"

"Well I'm not!" You call back over your shoulder.

It's darker as you step into the living room, overhead lights off in favor of utilizing the warmer glow from the the lamp tucked away in the corner. You have to step over Eddie's discarded shoes at the foot of the sofa, and the boy very nearly knocks your drink out of your hand when you step in front of him, too distracted by his own tirade to have seen your approach.

But his head snaps up toward you as your thigh brushes his arm. Whatever he's been saying, the words cut off abruptly at the realization of who it is standing beside him.

"Well hey there, princess." He shoots you a toothy grin — You assume it's meant to be charming, but it only irritates you further. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"

You ignore Eddie in favor of casting a small smile of apology toward Gareth, "Sorry to interrupt."

"Nah, no worrie-"

"No, no! You didn't interrupt. We were done." Eddie cuts his friend off, "Gareth was just telling me he was gonna go take a piss, actually."

Gareth splutters for a moment, but when his eyes shift from you to Eddie he's suddenly rising from his chair. You watch Gareth shake his head as he steps around you before he stalks off without a word.

"What was that about?" You can't help but ask in curiosity.

"Beats me. Really had to piss, I guess." Eddie says quickly, sitting up a little straighter against the arm of the couch. He throws an arm out to gesture to Gareth's recently vacated chair, "Did you wanna-"

Rather than taking advantage of the empty seat, you plop yourself across Eddie's thighs unceremoniously, feeling oddly satisfied by the huff of surprise that escapes him when your weight is suddenly in his lap.

The way the warmth of his body seeps into your own is near immediate, even through two layers of denim. Your arm presses into his chest as you lean back into the cushion of the sofa, trying and failing to remain unaffected by his proximity. He smells infuriatingly good this close, clean and masculine with just a lingering hint of the weed he'd smoked earlier in the night. It makes your stomach flutter wildly, makes your head swim for half a second before you're lifting your cup to your mouth in an effort to compose yourself.

Eddie huffs softly and his breath fans out over your exposed shoulder, warm and smelling faintly of cheap beer and menthols. Goosebumps prickle along the length of your arm, hairs standing on end suddenly. You wish you could convince yourself that your body's reaction were one of repulsion, but deep down you know that its something far, far worse than that.

"You.. You're just gonna.. sit.. here?" Eddie asks, voice a little wobbly, unsure.

His knuckles brush your thigh, likely an accident, but one sidelong glare has his hand retreating to the relative safety of the couch cushion in a flash.

"Yep."

You can see outside to the patio from your position, and you focus your attention to the group sitting with their feet in the pool. The sheer amount of effort it takes to keep your eyes trained there, rather than allowing them to drift to where Eddie's hand twitches near your knee-

"Do- Did you want me to move my legs? Do you want-" He shifts underneath you like he's ready to pull his feet from the cushion at the other end, but you remain resolutely in place.

"Nope, I'm good."

You have absolutely no plans of moving any time soon. You'd remain seated right here in Eddie's lap until his bladder was ready to burst, until your weight made his legs fall asleep and tingle from lack of blood flow, until he was ready to grab you by your hips and force you into another seat.

He'd learn his lesson. The inconsiderate couch-hogging asshole.

"O..kay." Eddie says slowly, wiping his palm on the side of his own denim-clad hip, as if his hands might've gotten a little sweaty.

Were you making him warm? Good.

"So.." Eddie pauses. You catch a glimpse of his face scrunching in thought at the corners of your vision before he continues, "Any big plans for the weekend?"

With how close you're sat, Eddie is speaking almost directly into your ear. There's no need for him to raise his voice to be heard, and you find that the low rumble of it is nice, soothing almost. It curls around your ears and sends something warm shooting down your spine.

"Killing boys." You return dryly, eyes straining now in an effort to remain focussed on what's going on in the backyard.

Eddie snorts, body jolting underneath you with his amusement — And his almost-laughter absolutely does not make your chest flush with pride. You couldn't care less whether or not Eddie Munson finds you funny. As if.

"Oh, so nothing out of the ordinary for you then."

Eddie chuckles and the tip of his thumb finds its way to the place where your thigh presses into his. You can't tell if it's accidental or on purpose, but the gentle press of his finger maybe kind of makes your stomach flip pleasantly, so you allow it. Whatever.

You hum in agreement, "Yeah, well. There's almost always some boy who deserves it."

"I don't doubt it," Eddie murmurs with a wide grin, his head tipped sideways over the back of the couch, cheek nearly brushing your shoulder now, "Anyone I know currently at the top of your list, madame assassin?"

"There is this one asshole." You pause to take a sip of your drink, fighting off a grimace at the awful liquor to juice ratio. "He's loud. And irritating. Just loves getting on my last nerve-"

"Long hair?"

The interruption has your eyes rolling, "Yep. Walks around looking like some Van Halen wannabe."

"Oh, he sounds cool."

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice now.

"Well he's not." You return blankly. "He's always trying to get a rise outta me, acting like a total prick-"

"Hold on, hold on-" Eddie cuts you off again, "Now I'm not so sure we're on the same page. Thought I knew who you were talkin' about, but-"

"Oh, you know him." You grumble, sinking farther into the plush cushion on the back of the couch with your drink clutched to your chest. "You know him well, trust me."

Eddie shifts beneath you, angling both himself and you until he's taking up more of your line of sight than the patio doors. His big brown eyes bore into you until you crack and flick your gaze toward him.

"Here's the thing.." Eddie starts, the pad of his thumb stroking the seam on the outside of your knee. "Maybe this guy's just pushing your buttons because he likes when all of your attention is on him-"

The arm he has thrown over the back of the couch by your shoulder moves then, brushing your hair back from your temple only to backtrack and trail the pads of his fingers featherlight over the space between your brows.

"-Maybe.. Shit, I dunno, maybe he likes the way your eyebrows come together when you're angry-"

Your heart is beating so loud you can hear the blood pumping in your ears. The urge to fidget under his attention is strong, but you sit at still as possible in fear of breaking the spell. You have to strain to hear Eddie's next words over the dull whoosh of your heartbeat echoing in your skull.

"Maybe he thinks you look kinda devastatingly beautiful-"

"You-" And, fuck. Did your voice just crack? "You're trying to tell me you think this guy is, what? Being a dick because he likes me? Pulling my pigtails on the playground and shit?"

Eddie's grin is less cocky than you've ever seen it. His lips twitch at one side of his mouth. He almost looks nervous.

You take a deep breath as his fingers skim over your jaw on their way back toward your hair, where he pinches a small lock between two fingers and tugs twice, oh-so gentle.

"What if he was?" Eddie asks softly, "Being a dick because he likes you, I mean."

"I'd tell you he's an idiot." You manage, plastic cup crinkling under the increased pressure of your hand.

Eddie winces, but nods and averts his gaze. His arm falls to the back to the sofa again, close enough for you to feel the warmth of it beside your shoulder.

"But.." You have to swallow down a smile when Eddie's wide eyes snap right back to yours. "Maybe this idiot's attraction isn't totally one-sided. So, maybe he should stop being an asshole and try making a move."

Eddie blinks. Once, then twice. He squares his shoulders and leans in like he might kiss you, but then he backs off again and searches your eyes as if he's terrified he might be reading the entire situation wrong.

"Eddie." You whisper sharply, "The idiot is you, asshole."

"Oh, Jesus Christ, thank god."

And then his fingers are curled gently around the back of your neck. His hand is fully grasping your opposite thigh as he tries to drag you impossibly closer. His plush lips are pressing softly into your own, the taste of beer mixing with vodka and citrus.

It's a quick kiss, chaste. Your mouths only remain glued together for all of three seconds before he's leaning back just enough to watch you blink at him from beneath heavy lashes. You can't imagine how stupidly docile you look; brows pushed up your forehead, chest nearly heaving beneath your shirt, jaw slack, lips parted and waiting for more. It's pathetic how he's managed to turn you into this with just one G-Rated kiss.

The hand on the back of your neck moves to your face, fingertips tracing the smooth line of your brow before trailing back down to cup your cheek.

"Yeah.. Yeah, this is nice too." Eddie murmurs, "You're awful pretty when you're mad, but this.. This right here is somethin' else."

"You're so annoying." It comes out airy, absolutely no bite to your words.

"Oh, that's not changing, sweetheart. Matter of fact, I think it's a part of our spark. Gotta keep the fire burning, right? I'll keep annoying you, you'll keep getting angry-"

"Would you just shut up and kiss me again?"

Eddie grins, already leaning in, "Sure thing."

#ah yes a little lap sitting is VERY itimidating 🙂↕️ uhuh yeah totally #this one was very fun to write and i absolutely got carried away but here we are #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson enemies to lovers #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson idiots to lovers #*

539 notes · View notes

0mg-bird · 1 month

Text

Late Night ~ J. Seresin x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Jake had gotten into an intense argument before he went off to work, now it was night fall and he comes home late.

Warnings: language, angry Jake, fluff at the end.

Never go to bed angry. That’s what everyone tells you when you’re engaged. Hold each other in the mornings, kiss each other good night, go out on dates, don’t have boring sex, keep showing up for one another. That’s what all the old ladies say in public when they see the ring.

Here you are now though, staring at that rock on your finger and not listening to any of that advice.

You paced around your home for a while, you made dinner, sat at the table and waited. Your food got cold. You left Jake a plate in the microwave, then cleaned up. You watched tv for a while, the hour of his usual arrival came and went, time kept ticking on. You took a shower, you put on your silk nightgown, you brushed and blow dried your hair and then you sat in bed, getting more and more frustrated.

Where was he?

The fight was ugly, Jake canceled plans yet again and you were overly frustrated. He’s missed dinners, changed multiple plans of going out with your shared friends. He wasn’t in bed most mornings anymore because he wanted to get his day started earlier for work. You were very understanding at first, he was up for a promotion, his job is stressful enough and you understood his need to lighten his load. That was a month ago. He still skipped out on plans, he wouldn’t even discuss a date for the wedding. Slowly but surely, you were losing your mind, your frustration finally spilled out in the morning when Jake said he was going out with the squad after work, making you have to re think your idea of setting up a romantic night in.

It was a perfectly good Friday night and your fiancé was spending it without you.

He had asked you why you were being moody, you told him you were fine but he grew irritated at your irritation. Soon the two of you were calling each other ridiculous and he was slamming the door shut behind him on his way out.

You got in bed and laid on your side, huffing. There’s the distinct sound of his key turning in the front door, you can hear him coming down the hall and the soft creak of the bedroom door opening. He knows you’re not asleep, but you don’t turn to face him as he stands in the doorway.

He comes into the room, shuts the door and goes to his side of the closet. He undresses, goes into the bathroom for a little bit to wash his face and brush his teeth.

“It’s really late, Jake.” You simply say as he comes back out.

He nods even though you can’t see him. “I know, sorry.” He says, then comes to your side of the bed, standing, looking down at you. You don’t meet his gaze, he can clearly see the irritation on your face. “You’re just not even gonna look at me?” He asks in a growing defense.

You finally look into those green eyes you once fell for. “I’m tired, just come to bed.”

“Tired or just still pissed at me?”

So this was the game he wanted to play.

You adjust to sit up, the covers sliding onto your lap. “Both, actually.”

He sighs, taking a seat at the end of the bed, putting a safe distance between the two of you. “The fight this morning shouldn’t have happened.” He says.

“No, it shouldn’t have.” You agree. “And you should’ve called and told me you were going to be late. Actually, you shouldn’t have gone out at all.”

Jake’s brows crease together, you know his features well enough to know he’s slowly growing irritated. “I needed a little space, especially after you created a mess this morning.”

He was an idiot with words.

You take a second to gather your nerves. “I cannot believe you right now. I’m sorry if I blew up at you, Jake, but I didn’t know what to do when you blew me off yet again. Seriously, what is your deal?” You ask.

“My deal?” He scoffs. “I have no ‘deal’. You’re the one who’s making problems where they don’t need to be.”

At his words, you shove the covers completely off of you. Your feet plant on the floor and you put a significantly more distance between you. Jake watches you slowly pace.

“I think I’ve officially lost my mind.” You say, nodding your head. “That has to be the case, right? I’m just a problem starter, I’m too suffocating, just someone you need space from?”

“That’s not what I meant.” He states after realizing how bad it sounds. “It just gets a little hard when you’re being too demanding.”

You pause, looking at him. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it. This was Jake, your Jake. The man sitting in front of you, calling you demanding, was the same man who promised you a great future.

“Tell me how I’m being demanding.” You say. “Am I too much when I ask to eat dinner with you? Is it too overbearing when I just need a night with no interruption, just one night where you’re not focused on work or going out with your squad?”

He stands now too. “You make it sound easy.”

“Because it can be!” You snap. “It can be easy but you aren’t trying! Jake, I need you to try.”

He runs his hand through his hair, groaning before lashing out in his own way. “I am trying, for fuck sakes! Do you honestly know how hard it is to try and balance everything?” His tone is rough and it startles you. You stand, looking up at him. He doesn’t let you get a next word in, he just continues. “So I miss out on a few dinners, there are bigger things I need to deal with.”

You scoff, huffing. “A few dinners? Jake, you’ve been treating me like I’m your casual girlfriend and not the woman you’re marrying. Hell, who knows if we’re even getting married at this point, it’s like I’m torturing you when I talk about it.”

“Of course we’re getting married.” He rolls his eyes, thinking you’re being overly dramatic.

“You could’ve fooled me.” You say, arms crossed over your chest. “Jake, I am your partner, that means something.”

“I know that! I know it means something, you think I don’t feel like shit already? I do, trust me, I know how fucked up I’ve been.” Jake snaps, tone utterly deep and it rumbles from his throat.

“Then why do you do it?” You ask, voice wavering. You didn’t want to cry, but it felt like your heart was breaking.

He clenched his jaw. “I don’t know what else to do, you don’t understand.”

“I could understand if you’d just fucking talk to me!”

You weren’t a very loud person, you were always very calm and collected, but standing in your bedroom, looking at your fiancé who was being far too confusing, all you wanted to do is scream. A thousand thoughts run through your mind, your insecurities rage.

Jake just looks at you, chewing his tongue. His silence makes things worse.

You take in a breath. “Is it…is it really me?” You begin to ask, hand on your uneasy stomach. “Am I so hard to talk to? I feel like I’ve been right behind you this entire time, ready for whatever you need. Have I not made you feel that way? Or-or is it you? You don’t want me by your side anymore?”

His eyes soften, he shakes his head. “No, no.” He mumbles but tears are already falling down your face.

“Is it someone else? Is there someone else?” Your shoulders shake.

He comes forward swiftly, gently gripping your arms. He looks you dead in the eye. “No. Don’t ever think that.”

“Then what’s the real problem? Please!” You plead.

“It’s me!” He shouts back. “It’s my fear, it’s my stress and I haven’t figured out how to move forward withe life and have all these damn changes!”

Your lip quivers, watching him work through his thoughts.

Jake breathes heavy. “I got moved up the ranks, I have all these new responsibilities I thought I could handle with ease but I can’t. I’m st-”

He chokes on the word.

“I’m s-struggling and I hate that.” He steps back, motioning to you next. “And I’m taking it out on you and I don’t know why, it’s like being around you too often reminds me that I promised you an easy life and right now, that’s not what I can offer.”

You soften, still crying but not for yourself. You come to reach up, pushing his hair back slightly.

“I’m not marrying you for an easy life, I’m marrying you because I love you, Jake. That means being the only one you can come to at the end of the day. The stress and fear won’t scare me, okay? What scares me is the idea of you disappearing.” You softly ensure, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

He sighs and pulls your hand away, intertwining it with his. “I’m an ass. I’m a really big ass, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

His other warm hand wipes your face clean of any tears. You smile. “I’ll only forgive you if you promise to talk to me about things from now on.”

Jake smiles, then kisses your forehead. “I promise.”

As the two of you lay in bed, you turn over to wrap your arm around his middle, head on his chest as you tangle your legs with his. His calloused hand slides up and down your back.

“I’d be okay with a Spring wedding.” Jake says, breaking comfortable silence.

You adjust to look up at him. “Spring?”

He nods. “Yeah, I think you’ll look nice next to all those colors.”

You grin and lay your head back down. “Spring time it is.”

#top gun fandom #top gun maverick #glen powell #fluff #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman fic #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #jake hangman x reader #argument

607 notes · View notes

eiightysixbaby · 6 months

Note

begging for some more older! eddie maybe us out late at a bar let’s have him be jealous and mean😈😈

ohhhhh bestie I can do that 👀

18+ only!!! allusions to smut, mean eddie but he’s just worried about you, jealous eddie, mentions of reader drinking alcohol

Eddie spots you the second he enters the bar. The whole place is sleazy, shitty music blaring in his ears as he pushes through the inebriated crowds. He can feel his boots sticking to the floor as he walks and the air feels thick with the heat radiating off of these strangers’ bodies.

You’re leaning against the bar, your elbows propped up on the probably-filthy countertop as you chat with the bartender. You flip your hair slightly, shifting your weight where you stand and wobbling slightly in your high heels. Definitely tipsy.

Your skirt is obscenely short, and the problem Eddie has with this is that you’re wearing it now, in front of these other men, when you blew him off.

Unable to get ahold of you, he’d been an anxious mess at home. He knew you were going out with friends but you’d promised you’d be at his place by 10. It’s 12:15.

His jaw clenches when he doesn’t see a single one of your friends around, and the way the bartender keeps smiling at you makes him want to punch the guy’s teeth in. He stomps up behind you, a firm hand gripping your arm and turning you to face him. Your eyes widen in surprise when you see him, the anger in his face. You’d fucked up, letting your phone die and not getting in touch with him. Staying out later than you’d said you would.

“I think you’re done here,” he says, and it’s not a question or a request or a joke. It’s a command, an order. You are done here, and we’re going the fuck home.

“Eddie-ee,” you hiccup, trying to keep some composure but failing with the alcohol in your system.

“You’re fucking wasted. Are you fucking kidding me, honey? It’s nearly half past midnight and I haven’t heard a thing from you.” His voice is firm, gruff as he tightens his grip on your arm.

“Is there a problem here?” the bartender asks, and Eddie seriously contemplates the consequences of beating this guy’s ass.

“Yeah, you. She’s not interested, pal. And she’s certainly not going home with you tonight,” he barks, yanking you away before the nuisance can respond.

“I’m sorry, Ed, my phone—”

“It died, right? Because you didn’t charge it even though I asked you to fucking charge it before you left,” he grits, and you look down at the floor in shame. He asked you one simple thing, and you neglected to do it. You won’t say it, but he has every right to be upset.

“I’m sorry,” you squeak, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was!? When I couldn’t get ahold of you? Knowing you were out drinking?” Eddie asks, guilt clawing at your insides.

He shoves open the door to the bar, ushering you out into the parking lot. You shiver at the chill in the air, far colder out than it had been when you’d arrived.

“Nothing bad happened, Ed, I’m fine,” you stress, but he’s having none of it.

“But it could have!” he barks, his voice stern and louder than he usually ever speaks to you. “Sure looked like you were having fun entertaining that bartender,” he scoffs.

You grimace, suddenly sobering up rapidly. You hadn’t been flirting with the guy, but it couldn’t have looked good from Eddie’s perspective. You do tend to get overly friendly when you drink, talkative and chipper.

“We were just talking, I had ordered a drink!” is what comes out of your mouth, for reasons unbeknownst to you. You’d meant to quell his suspicions, but instead you sound petulant and defensive.

“Just fucking talking,” he chuckles, albeit humorlessly. “Don’t think he thought you were just talking, sweets.”

He opens the passenger door of his vehicle, slamming it behind you after you get in. The way he forces the key into the ignition and peels out of the parking lot makes your stomach churn. You make it to his place in record timing, the entire ride silent. He doesn’t open the door this time, or help you out of the car. Your feet ache in your heels and your hands wring together as you walk to his front door.

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” you say meekly, standing helplessly in his living room as he regards you out of his peripheral.

You see the way his jaw clenches and unclenches, and he brings one hand up to rub at his chin, the gray and brown scruff that litters the skin.

“You had me worried fucking sick,” he says, emphasizing this. He walks toward you until the backs of your thighs are hitting the arm of the couch. “I need you to follow rules, baby. All I asked was that you charge your phone,” his eyes don’t look away from yours for even a second, making sure you’re listening.

You nod, feeling the heat that radiates off of his body. He smells like his cologne and a hint of tobacco, a scent so familiar and comforting to you. You wonder why you’d wanted to go out tonight at all, when he’s been here all along.

He steps even closer, resting a hand on your hip possessively. “And don’t even think about chatting up anymore bartenders,” he warns, his mouth hovering beside your ear. “Got it?” His voice is gruff, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I won’t,” you agree, knees nearly buckling when an index finger reaches out to stroke your cheek.

“That’s a good girl,” he says. “Now why don’t you take these clothes off and go get on the bed for me, pretty girl. Gotta remind you who you belong to.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #older!eddie munson #older!eddie munson x reader #leah’s got mail 💌

716 notes · View notes