Latest Posts by starfulhabitz - Page 3
Nothing Comes Close to the Golden Coast
Description: You're on the beach because it's what your little sister wanted for her bachelorette party. One day, you can manage, right? You're not expecting to stumble right into the woman who could can change your outlook on beaches that day. But with Natasha Trace, maybe you're starting to see nothing comes close to the golden coast.
Warnings: Female! Reader, Flirting, Beaches, Mild Cursing, Natasha is too flirty for words and possibly a little dangerous
A/N: Hiya lovelies! This is a fic I wrote for @bellaireland1981 's 1K Pool Party celebration. Congratulations on 1K followers Bella! It's my first time writing a long form Phoenix x Reader fic and I hope I did Nix justice. All my love to @horseshoegirl for beta-ing this fic for me and making sure I wasn't 1) using too many commas (yes I have a problem) and 2) that this fic was flirty and fun and summery enough!
Word Count: 3617
Cross-posted to AO3 here!
Cross-posted to Wattpad here!
You like going to the beach as much as any other girl. But unlike other girls, you tend to prefer quiet, calm, clear beaches to lie on. The kind of beach where you can hear the tide coming in and the seagulls wheeling in the clear summer sky. The kind of beach where the sand is clear, and you never have to fight to find a spot to lay down your towel and where you can read without a beach ball smashing into your face. Of course, finding the clear beaches you love is far from easy. It seems like the minute the calendar hits Memorial Day, everyone in the Greater San Diego area books it to the beach for the summer. You’ve even seen people taking meetings out on the beach. But to put it bluntly, you're not one of those people.
So why are you out on this congested, loud beach today? There's only one reason: your baby sister's Bachelorette party. It was an obligation you couldn’t get out of. You love your sister, but you’re less than happy to be spending time with her and her friends. When it’s just the two of you, it feels like you’re the closest pair of siblings on the planet. But when she’s with her friends, it feels like there is a colossal, ever-widening, yawning gulf between you. Everyone calls her the pretty one while you're the practical one. In the eyes of your entire extended family, it is one of the many reasons why she's getting married at 22 when you're still single at 28. To keep the peace, you’ve been pasting a smile on your face and literally grinning and bearing it for everything she’s asked of you. Because you love her and in only a week’s time you can get a bit of a break from her (or really, from her best friend).
To make matters worse, you’re the only girl in the group wearing a one-piece suit, something flattering yet mostly covered, without showing off your cleavage or too much of your ass.
“God, do you have to wear that old lady suit?” She'd scoffed when you walked out of your house that morning, a sunhat on your head and a sarong tied around your waist to complement the deep maroon one-piece you’d pulled out to wear. “Please tell me you have a bikini you can go wear instead. If you'd told me, I would have brought you one of mine!”
As if you'd have ever worn a bikini of hers. Your younger sister is thin, model thin, with a narrow waist and perfectly perky A-cups, which look fantastic in the hot pink bikini she's wearing today. She's got the physique that makes men look a little stupid. Already, there is a pack of unfairly pretty men who have gone a little cross-eyed when your sister and her friends walked by. In contrast, you're shorter and curvier, your hair dark where hers is blonde, and the ultimate introvert to her bubbly extrovert.
You aren't even her maid of honor at her wedding - that particular honor belongs to her best friend - yes, the aforementioned obnoxious Sally herself. It's not as if anyone has even noticed you're not having the time of your life in the water. After all, why would they? Who wants the babysitter hanging around you when you're trying to have fun? It's the role you've been playing since your sister was born, and you're sure you'll play it again once your sister has kids. For now, all you can do is stay secluded under your umbrella and try to read a little despite the noise. At least it is a little emptier on the beach now as the sun sinks slowly across the sky.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
The voice is male, filled with all the surety of a man who knows what he wants and has never failed to get it. Your eyes are rolling before your head rises from your book. Your sister and Sally are under the umbrella next to you, and unsurprisingly, that comment was targeted at the two of them. You're pretty sure they are two of the group who were tossing around not one but two footballs on the beach.
“Two pretty things like you look like you could use a drink.”
It's the blonde, tall with green eyes, and a shit-eating grin, who makes the offer. And to your disbelief, it looks like your sister is going to take these guys up on their offer.
“We'd love to!”
Is she thinking at all? Before you can stop yourself, you're speaking.
“Can I talk to you, Vicky?”
“The fuck do you need to talk to her for?”
Sally's growling at you, her arms crossed under her chest in a way that accentuates the cleavage already threatening to break free of her string bikini. Your cheeks flush as the two men glance between you and her, discerning gazes flip-flopping between you and her at heated words.
“You're her sister, not the fucking morality police. We're having drinks with them. Either you can join us, or you can glare disapprovingly. But don't you dare tell us what we can and cannot do.”
“You're such a fucking stick in the mud. I don’t get why the hell you came with us. Why are you always coming out with us, anyway? I mean, I’d have had a life by the time I was your age, but well, I guess you're even too boring for that.”
You're left gaping at Sally and your sister as they walk away. The words don't hurt, not really. You've been hearing a version of them for years, ever since Sally and Vicky decided they didn't like having you shadow them. Of course, they don't believe you when you say you'd rather do anything other than join them while they get up to all the bullshit they do. Once upon a time, Vicky used to defend you. Obviously, those days are long gone.
It doesn't mean you won't still watch out for your sister, though. Call it some sort of sickening nostalgia for the days when you and her were close once, chasing each other around playing unicorns in your backyard. Call it affection for the little girl who used to follow along behind you, repeating everything you said with a lisp. Call it love for your sister who you would once do anything for - would still do anything for.
Of course, you immediately realize the situation is far different than you thought it would be. Because there aren't just two incredibly hot men, but ten. Before you can blink, they're all over Vicky, Sally and their other friends. Somebody has sparked up a bonfire, and you gravitate to the hot flames despite yourself. You're a little chilled after being out in the hot sun all day. As the sun sets over the sea, one of them nestles a Bluetooth speaker into the sand and turns the music up.
California Gurls, we're unforgettable,
Daisy Dukes, bikinis on top
Whoever made this playlist needs better taste in music. Or at least they need to pick something which you haven't heard on the radio every day of the summer in 2010. As it is, it will be stuck in your head for days.
“This song sucks, huh?”
You jump at the voice near your ear, stumbling and nearly face-planting in the sand. You have the kind of face which shows your emotions plainly, you've always been told so. Now someone has noticed, and you hope this person won’t throw you under the bus like all of Vicky’s friends. You pretend it’s just the song as you turn around with a smile pasted across your face.
“It's the worst!”
You're sure you have other things to say, but they disappear from your head like smoke when you see the woman who is talking to you. She's gorgeous, whiskey eyes flickering gold with the bonfire's flames. She's absolutely beautiful, and it feels a little like you're in an alternate universe. There's a cool breeze coming off the water, and in addition to the salt from the sea, you can smell hibiscus in the air. It has to be from her perfume, you note vacantly.
There's humor in her eyes as she stands beside you, surveying the others around the bonfire just like you are. You can see your sister in the distance, dancing with the blonde who asked if she wanted a drink. She looks like she’s well on her way to becoming completely drunk, but you don’t care. Vicky’s an adult. She made her own decisions, and she can stand by them. All of your attention is on the brunette in front of you. She holds out a bottle to you, condensation dripping over her fingers.
“I thought you could use a drink.”
“Thanks.”
The drink in question is a bottle of soda, ice cold.
“I, uhh…” She looks a little sheepish, some of her confidence draining away as you look inquiringly at her. “I wasn’t sure how else to get you to talk to me.”
“W-why wouldn’t I talk to you?”
She grins ruefully, “Because you've been glaring at Bagman and your friends since you walked over here?”
“And, you don't look like you're having much fun.”
“Fun…” You sigh, "is a word for it. And we're not friends.”
“Younger sister?”
You laugh, “Is it that obvious?”
“You're a good sister, coming out with her and her friends like this.”
Her innocent words touch your heart a little bit.
“I've got two just like her. They're so sure they're grown up, but they could still need somebody to watch out for them.”
You turn excitedly, “Yes! Yes. That’s it! She's getting married next week, but there's still so much she doesn’t know yet! And she and her best friend hate that I'm here. Call it her need to be seen and treated like an adult. I'm in her bridal party and she doesn’t even want to celebrate with me. Guess everybody would pick Bagman over there over me.”
“I don't hate that you're here, you know?”
You startle a little at the frank openness of this beautiful stranger's voice.
“Why not? You don't know a single thing about me.”
“I know you’re a big sister. I know you hate Katy Perry’s California Gurls, not because the song itself is horrible, but because you’ve probably heard it a million times.”
She tugs at your hand, and you follow her as she leads you away from the bonfire, the song still blaring away. You shouldn’t follow her, you know you shouldn’t. But despite yourself,you’re curious. There’s something about her you need to know more of. Away from the bonfire, the air is cool, and crisp. The beach feels swept clean the further you walk.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you planned this.”
You crack open the soda and take a sip, pretending not to feel dark eyes on the side of your face.
“I didn’t plan it.” She chuckles a little, playing with your fingers. “All I wanted was to keep talking. I think I owe you a few more things I know about you, anyways.”
Your heart warms as she shrugs out of the hoodie and lays it over the sand. She sprawls down with a grace you couldn't emulate if you tried, all long, lean muscles exuding strength and power. You feel awkward in contrast, self-conscious as you try to sit on as much of the hoodie as you can without sprawling in her lap in a way that would have you mortified and her uncomfortable. But you can still feel her, warm and solid, as she retakes your hand. It’s comforting, the light touch, the calluses at her fingertips making goosebumps rise over your arms. Her perfume smells different this close, the light scent of summer hibiscus melting into roses and morning dew. It’s addicting.
“Y-you mentioned there were a couple more things you knew about me?”
The words leave you in a whisper, tripping over each other as they drop off your tongue.
Her laugh is husky and warm, and for one moment, all you want is for her to make that wondrous sound again. But you quell that particular impulse. After all, no matter how weak you are for this woman, you barely know her. You won't be making a fool of yourself tonight.
“I think you're smart, smarter than anyone gives you credit for being. You're strong and single-minded.” She leans in conspiratorially, a smirk on her lips. “Some people would call you stubborn, but I think they're just afraid you'll leave them behind in your quest for world domination.”
“How do you know I'm gunning for world domination?” You're smiling from ear-to-ear as you ask the question.
“All the prettiest girls are. Especially the girls who bring a book to the beach for family when they'd probably rather be curled up on a window seat with a cup of tea handy.”
Your cheeks have to be crimson by now. Of all the days for an unfairly pretty woman to come up to you and flirt, she has to pick today. She’s so confident, so pretty and vivacious and all the things you never could be. In comparison, you just feel dull, like a piece of fabric bleached by the sun, until there are only the faintest hints of color left. It’s also been a really long time since anyone’s even looked twice at you.
“I-I do like reading at a window seat while it rains.” Your smile is halfway genuine now, you think. You can’t keep volunteering bits of information about yourself without getting some info from her in turn.
“What do you like doing in your spare time?”
Maybe you picked the wrong question to ask because her easy smile drops faster than you can blink. The small wrinkles at the corners of her eyes flatten out, and the dimples are so deep you’ve been wanting to kiss them since you saw them disappear as her smile does. The silence between you isn’t comfortable anymore. It’s awkward, a discordantly awkward tone spoiling the harmony of the moments before.
“I don’t have much spare time. Or hobbies.”
“I’m sorry.”
You’re babbling before the apology has left your lips, mind speeding at a hundred miles per hour at the thought you’ve somehow managed to insult the one person who’s wanted to talk to you all night. You’re standing and turning to head back to the bonfire before she hops up next to you.
“Whoa, whoa.” Her hands are hot as they make contact with your upper arms. “I’m not angry at you. I dunno if you heard what those meatheads were saying when they were posturing to your sister and her friends earlier, but I’m a Naval Aviator.”
“It doesn’t leave a lot of time for hobbies.”
“So, what do you do with your free time?”
She’s so close you can feel the heat of her skin.
“Most of my free time is spent at the gym. It takes hard work to look this good.”
You giggle a little as she tugs your hands until they’re flat against her toned stomach. The muscles twitch under your fingers a little, and you feel light-headed. Is she really flirting with you? You?
“Not everyone can read books and look as good as you do.”
“What else do you do?” Your voice is weak, barely audible over the rushing waves, but she hears you anyway.
“Sleep. Try to read. Though it’s harder to concentrate when you’re surrounded by hundreds of lonely, horny men than when you’re sitting in a window seat.”
She smirks a little, leaning closer then.
“And I definitely spend a lot of time daydreaming about a pretty bookworm in my bed to keep me warm at night.”
“O-oh.”
Your face has to be crimson by now. It feels so hot. The dark ocean seems way too alluring, if only for a cold reality check. There’s no way this gorgeous, smart, sexy woman is hitting on you. There’s no way. Maybe if you keep saying it over and over, it will be a reality instead of what your delusional mind is coming up with.
“Sadly, there hasn’t been a pretty bookworm in my bed in a while.”
The smile on her face falls, the motes of color swirling in her hypnotic eyes, fracturing into crystals at the words.
“None of them can take the long days away, no dates, little contact. Maybe one day I’ll find the right bookworm for me. Unless…”
Her arm has found its way around your shoulders, the warm lines of her body searing into you.
“Well, this is a silly question, but would you maybe like to grab a coffee sometime? Get to know each other better?”
You want to say yes. More than anything you want to. But you can’t bring yourself to accept her invitation, not when you have more questions than answers.
“W-why me?”
Her lips are warm even through the material of your half-damp swimsuit as she presses a kiss to your shoulder.
“You’re different from the other girls I talk to.”
You’re unsure how to respond, half afraid she will go on and on about how boring and dull you are. All of the others you’ve dated certainly have. They expect one of the standard sexy-librarian types when they meet you and find out you like to read. They’re always disappointed when the truth they come to see couldn’t be any further from what they imagine.
“You’re so beautiful,” she sighs. “I swear I nearly got hit on the head with one of the footballs when I saw you walk out onto the beach and sit under your umbrella.”
“You missed it, I'm sure, but those goofballs in my squadron were laughing at me for hours.”
There's a slight pink tinge to her cheeks as she leans back. You miss her the minute you lose her warmth.
“I um…” She runs a hand, long-fingered and pretty (why the hell are even her hands so pretty), through her hair. “I'm pretty sure that's why those two walked up to your sister and her friend.”
“They wanted me to come to the bonfire tonight?”
You're pretty sure your mouth is wide open at this point.
“Yeah. Though I should say, I wanted an excuse to talk to the prettiest woman I've ever seen. And maybe flirt with her a little. And maybe get her to agree to go out with me.”
“How is this clever plan of yours working for you?”
Your voice is a whisper again as you peer over your shoulder at her.
“You don’t know my name. You don't even know if you're my type.”
It takes every bit of courage to banter lightly with her.
“I think it's going pretty well. After all, I've got you sitting here with me instead of out there with those idiots. And I'd very much like your name.”
You smile despite yourself as you tell her your name, getting hers in turn: Natasha Trace, callsign Phoenix. Her callsign fits her fierce and confident personality.
“So what do you say about getting coffee with me sometime?”
Just before you're about to respond, you hear your name called from the bonfire. It's one of Vicky's friends calling for you and pointing at your sister. She's drunk, and you can tell she's minutes away from courting an indecent exposure charge. She's sitting on Bagman's lap and doing her best to eat his face right off. He seems like a more than willing participant. Your concerns have more to do with how her bikini is moving, how she’s only moments away from an indecent exposure charge.
“Fuck.”
You turn to Natasha and smile. “I'm really sorry, but I have to…”
You make a vague gesture in your sister's direction.
“I understand. She needs you right now.”
You nod and begin to walk away, pulling your coverup out of your bag. But your feet don't let you move very far. What kind of person would you be if you let the best thing that's ever happened to you slip through your fingers so easily? You can't let her slip away. So you rummage in your bag for one of the notebooks you always carry with you and scrawl your phone number down on it, ripping the page away.
She looks surprised to see you again when you catapult yourself into her arms and kiss her soft lips. She tastes like the beer she was drinking earlier, and as her arms wrap around your waist, you sink into the kiss a little bit more. You feel like you never want to leave. Yet you know the longer you stay here kissing Natasha, the more time your sister has to make situations worse. Her friends may be cheering her on, but her fiancé won't be quite so magnanimous.
When you pull away, her cheeks are the same pink as earlier. Her lips are kiss-swollen, and her eyes are bright. You're sure yours are the same.
“Let's get that coffee, Natasha.”
You press the paper into her hands and hurry back up to the beach to take care of your sister. In the hilarity of pulling her away from Bagman and wrestling her into your coverup, you can feel eyes on you. They track you until you drive away.
There's a text on your phone when you get home.
Let's get that coffee tomorrow morning. Do you know Madison's Cafe? I'd very much like to kiss you again.
I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.
Taglist:
@desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @chaoticassidy @kmc1989
Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Latina Reader
Blurb: You were once the best female pilot at Top Gun. That was until a mission ended very badly. Now, 3 years later, you're somewhat healed and dating a man who takes advantage of your trauma. Now, you work at Hard Deck, the closest you could allow yourself to Top Gun, when your old friends come back... including a new guy you don't know; and to say he's intrigued by you is an understatement. But when your boyfriend decides to lay hands on you in front of him and your friends, all hell breaks loose.
Contents: Domestic Abuse, Swearing, bar fight, some fluff(??)
(Title pending! Let me know if you have suggestions!)
Word count: 3,160
I hope you all enjoy! I'll try to update it as much as I can.
Chapter 1
You never thought you would step foot in Hard Deck after everything that happened two years ago, never mind work there. It was oddly comforting and your therapist said it could help with the trauma you endured. So when Penny gave you a job as a bartender and server, you jumped at the opportunity.
Anything to be close to something you once loved.
You’re in the middle of cleaning out the dirty dishes bin when you hear the creaking of someone walking into the bar.
“We’re closed,” you say. “Come back at 8.”
“Oh, I’m not here for a drink,” a man’s voice says. “I’m here to see Penny. Is she in?”
You turn toward the voice to see a man in a leather jacket with multiple patches usually worn by naval aviators. His dark hair is perfectly styled and when he takes off a pair of aviator glasses, he exposes his hazel eyes.
“You must be Pete,” you said with a smile. “She told me you’d be coming around. She’s in the her office if you wanna go back there.”
He nods and makes his way toward the back of the bar. He stops at the entrance before turning to face you with a soft smile. “I’m glad you’re back, Y/L/N.”
Startled, you ask, “How do you know my name?”
“I work at Top Gun. I’ve heard stories and seen your pictures all over the place.” Pete smiles before turning serious and adding, “I really am glad you’re back. Admiral Simpson told me a lot of great things when he was your instructor.”
You take a deep but shaky breath before nodding, lips pulled tight before you say, “Thank you.”
You eye his jacket to see his rank and frown. “Captain?”
“Yeah, Captain.” Pete nods. When your brow lifts, he adds, “It’s a long story.”
“I’ll look forward to hearing it,” you smile.
“I have a new class starting up today, maybe you’ll see some of my guys,” he says. “You may see some familiar faces.”
And with that, Pete walks into Penny’s office, leaving you reeling and wondering who you’ll see later.
* * *
Later that night, Hard Deck is packed with Naval Aviators and civilians. It’s loud, chaotic, and joyful for the most part. People are playing pool, throwing darts, and having a great time getting drunk.
It reminds you of the good old days, back when you weren’t traumatized and living with an abusive man.
You’ve just finished putting a couple of beers in front of a group of civilians when you hear someone call your name.
“Y/N!”
You turn just in time to see Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, smiling ear to ear with his signature mustache sitting on his top lip.
“Rooster!” You exclaim. “I can’t believe you’re here!”
“Yeah, I’ve been assigned here for the next couple of months, some sort of mission. You know how that is,” he drawls, smiling to himself. He looks you up and down before saying, “You look good, y/n.”
You’re wearing a simple black, V-neck shirt with a pair of jeans and Converse. The compliment makes you smile and wave his comment off. “I’m sure you tell all the girls that.”
“Nope,” he smiles. “Just you.”
“So what’re you having, and how many?” you ask.
“I’ll have seven of your lovely beers,” he chuckles. “You should come over to the pool tables, Phoenix would love to see you.”
“My girl is here?” You ask excitedly.
“Of course. I’ll send her over for the next round,” Rooster says, watching as you expertly open all six of the beers quickly. “What time are you off?”
You check your AppleWatch before saying, “In about two hours.”
“Come meet us over there when you’re off,” Rooster smiles, pointing at the pool table across the way. “And Y/N, I’m glad you’re back in some way. We’ve missed you.”
“Thanks, Roo. I guess I’ve missed you.”
You watch as he walks off, noting the people he approaches. Phoenix practically breaks her neck looking in your direction, Coyote, Fanboy, Payback, and Bob smile and wave; and there’s another guy there you don’t recognize. He has sandy blonde hair, tanned skin, and an award-winning smile. From the bar, you can see his green eyes sliding over your body, checking you out. You cross your arms over your chest and cock a brow in question. When he waves at you with a cocky grin, you have to fight a smile from forming on your face.
It was cute but you’re taken.
Unfortunately.
You’ve been dating Nick Abernathy for the past year or two and while it was very fun and loving in the beginning, now you can’t stand to look him in the eye.
Not after what happened the last time you were at Top Gun. And especially not after how he reacted and treated you everyday after.
Speaking of the devil, you hear your boyfriend, call out your name to the left. “Y/N!”
You turn to see Nick, the man you once loved so much, smiling down at you. He’s all blonde hair and dark brown eyes, broad shouldered, and muscules; a naval pilot.
Your type. Again, unfortunately.
“What’s my favortie lady doing looking at those aviators?” he asks. To the untrained ear, it sounds like he’s being playful. But you know the truth, and you know you’ll hear–and feel–it later.
“Just some old buddies of mine,” you tell him.
“Right,” he says, eyes narrowing. He moves a hand, reaching out to grip your wrist. “I’ll be waiting to take you home after your shift.”
“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him, smiling sweetly to hide the growing dread in your chest.
“What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t drive my girlfriend home?” Nick seethes, looking beyond you. “Besides, I don’t like the way those aviators are looking at you.”
You turn your head toward where you know Rooster and the rest of the aviator group watch the interaction. Their faces are all hard, ready to defend at your ‘okay’. You send them a small wave and reassuring smile before turning back to Nick who is now practically red in anger.
“They’re just friends,” You tell him, fear begins to prickle all over your body. “I met them when I was at Top Gun.”
Before Nick can say anything, Penny comes into view, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Hey, can you stay another couple of hours? Pete wants to take me out and I can’t close early tonight.”
Relief fills you immediately when you reply, “Yeah, I can stay until closing.”
“Good,” Penny smiles. Then, as if seeing Nick for the first time, says to him, “Don’t worry about picking her up. I saw her drive here.”
Nick’s jaw clentches before he smiles, drops your arm, and responds, “Oh, I must’ve gotten confused.”
He turns to you before saying, “I’ll see you at home.”
Penny stays by your side until Nick finally leaves before turning you to face her and saying, “Go clock out. I’ll take it from here.”
“I thought you were–”
“I told him that so he would leave you alone,” Penny states, rubbing your shoulder. “Go catch up with Rooster and the gang. Just stay until closing so I can follow you home.”
“Thanks, Penny.”
You turn to leave, smiling to yourself and looking at the ground, when you feel someone’s eyes on you again. You glance in the direction of where Rooster and the rest of them are to find the green-eyed aviator that was checking you out before, staring.
Creep.
You clock out before grabbing a beer from Penny and making your way toward the group.
“Hey!” Phoenix exclaims at the sight of you walking closer. Then, pulling you into a bear hug, says, “Come here, Bullseye! I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, Nat.” You smile, smoothing her hair when she pulls away.
“Bullseye?” the green-eyed aviator asks, Texan accent drawling and sending shivers down your spine.
“You’re looking at the most badass female aviator I’ve ever met,” Phoenix tells him. “The best at shooting too.”
“Is that why your call-sign is Bullseye?” he asks you.
You square your shoulders before smirking and replying, “Yes.”
“I’ll spoil it for you,” Rooster laughs. “She’s terrible at darts.”
“First of all, I was drunk!” you exclaim with a laugh. “I would’ve gotten that bullseye if you hadn’t bumped into me!”
“Mhmm, blame the alcohol,” Rooster teases.
“So, Y/N, who was that guy you were talking to?” Coyote asks.
“Yeah, didn’t look like a good conversation,” Bob adds.
“Um, my boyfriend, Nick,” you respond, feeling Green Eyes stare at you. “Soon-to-be ex.”
“Why soon-to-be?” Fanbooy asks.
“Just,” you trail off. “We fell apart.”
“Didn’t look that way from our angle,” Green Eyes mutters.
“I’m sorry,” You say, turning toward him. “Who are you?”
Green Eyes grins before outstretching a hand and saying, “Jake Seresin, Hangman. You can choose what you call me.”
“Hangman?” you ask, quirking a brow. “Like the game?”
“The one and only,” he responds coyly.
“You’re looking at the only naval aviator with one confirmed air-to-air kill,” Phoenix tells you. “He’s also a dickhead.”
“Oh, stop. You’re being too sweet,” Hangman grins. He turns toward the bar and frowns. “Isn’t that your soon-to-be ex?”
Your spine stiffens. You don’t have to turn to know that Nick is standing at the bar, eyeing you from one of the barstools. Your eyes widen when you see him throw back a shot of what you know is whiskey. He turns aggressive when he drinks so this should be fun.
“You okay there, Y/L/N?” Phoenix asks.
“I have to go,” You say, starting to walk toward him. However, you feel a hand on your arm and turn to see Rooster looking down at you, concern written all over his face.
“You’re not going over there alone,” he tells you. Turning to the group, he tells them, “We’re with her, I don’t like the way he grabbed her the last time he was in here.”
The group give affirming nods, all except Hangman.
“I’ve got this,” you tell Rooster. “He’s harmless.”
You knew it was a lie as soon as it left your lips and so did Rooster. His dark brown eyes narrow on you before he takes a swig of his beer and says, “We’ll be close by.”
You curtly nod before cracking your neck and handing Phoenix your beer. So much for relaxing.
You make the short walk to where Nick sits at the bar, feeling Penny’s eyes half on you and on another customer. Behind, you can feel the gaze of your friends as they watch you stand before Nick.
“What’re you doing?” You ask.
“I was about to ask the same thing,” he says. “See, I called the Hard Deck line and they told me you had clocked out. But I remember Penny telling me that you were staying until closing.”
“Nick–”
“Don’t,” he orders. “We’re going home. Now.”
“I don’t think so,” You boldly announce.
You’re just as surprised as Nick by the looks of it, so when he aggressively grabs your jaw and brings you close, you lock up completely.
“That wasn’t a request, Y/N,” Nick tells you darkly. His face is hard, you glance down at his hand by his hips and see that it’s clenched tightly.
“Nick,” You start. “Let’s just go. Let’s not do this here.”
“Why not? You don't want your buddies to see how much of a cunt you are?” he spits. “Let them see what happens when you try to act like you’re single.”
“You’re hurting me,” You softly say. Nick scoffs before frowning at something behind you.
Not something, but a couple of somethings.
“Let her go,” you hear Hangman say. His Texan charm all the way off and threatening.
“This has nothing of concern to you,” Nick spits.
“How about you let her go, and we won’t beat the shit out of you,” Phoenix says, her hand on your lower back in comfort.
Nick obeys, pushing you to the left and into the bar top harshly before taking a few steps toward Phoenix. You turn, watching as Phoenix stands her ground, not flinching when Nick tries too scare her by flinching forward. Rooster comes between the two of them, almost touching Nick’s nose with his own. The bar falls silent, all eyes on the interaction.
“Roos,” You start. “It’s fine. I’ll go home with him.”
“No,” Rooster says to you, eyes glued on Nick. “You’re staying with Phoenix until he leaves your apartment.”
“Rooster, I can–”
“That wasn’t a request, Y/n,” he booms. To Nick, he says, “Here’s whats gonna happen. You’re gonna leave and start packing your shit. When she comes home tomorrow, and we’ll be there to confirm, you’ll be out of there and her life for god. Got it?”
Nick smiles before tapping Rooster’s chest, hard. “So you were the one she used to fuck when she was an aviator. Tell me, Rooster, do you think she’ll open her pretty legs for you again?”
Rooster only smiles back before turning to his left where Fanboy and Coyote stand near you. “Get Y/N to the pool tables.”
Before they can grab you, Nick reaches out and squeezes your wrist tight before pulling you close to him. “You’ll have to peel her off me.”
“Let her go, I’ve called the police to remove you,” Penny says from behind the bar. “Your Captain won’t be happy to receive a call from jail.”
Nick clenches his jaw before slowly letting your wrist go and pushing you an arms length away. Before you have time to run into Coyote’s arms, Nick’s fist is flying toward your face in slow motion. When it finally makes contact with your cheek, you stumble, falling into someone’s arms and being dragged back before all hell breaks loose.
The bar is filled with shouting and the sound of glass shattering. And yet, all you can focus on is the way Rooster, Coyote, and Payback block Nick from rushing toward you. You’re so engrained on the commotion before you, you don’t hear when Hangman calls out your name.
Jake was a lot of things, but a hero was not on his roster. As soon as he saw Nick hit you, he went into full-on hero mode, pulling you into him and rushing you both to the pool tables. The look of shock paints your face as he watches you stare at the commotion before you.
I’m in deep shit if she wants to go over there because I’m not letting her out of my arms.
“Hey,” Hangman soothes. “Y/N, was it?”
You snap your head toward him and he has to fight to keep from sucking in a breath. Up close, you were gorgeous, even with that shiner growing on your left eye.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine,” You say, realizing who you’re sitting on and then standing from his lap. “I have to get over there.”
Hangman knew you’d say that so he stands with you, and shakes his head. “No, I don’t think Rooster would like that very much.”
“Well, it’s a good thing Rooster isn’t here,” You tease before breaking for a sprint. Only, you don’t go far because Hangman has his arms around your waist in seconds.
“You’re a slippery one aren’t you?”
“I just want to get Nick out of here,” You whisper.
Hangman searches your eyes, sensing every ounce of truth radiating from them. Matching you, he whispers, “Rooster’s got it handled.”
“Are you okay, Y/N?” You both hear Rooster say it but you don’t dare turn your heads toward him. Hangman’s eyes search yours again, wanting you to say something.
“I can take you to my apartment if you’d like,” Phoenix says to you.
You finally turn away from Hangman’s intense gaze and push away lightly. “Yeah, I think that would be best.”
“Penny said to leave your car here by the way,” Bob says, looking between you and Hangman.
“Sounds good,” you respond, turning to walk away with Natasha, arms linked. Before you both completely walk out of Hard Deck, you turn around to see Jake already staring with longing eyes.
Something about it makes you shiver and pull Nat closer.
* * *
Jake watches as you turn back around and smile at something Phoenix said, wondering what it was that made you smile. He turns to Rooster, who’s givinghim the most sly grin he’d ever seen.
“You like, Y/N,” Rooster states.
“You’re not wrong,” he admits. “She seems so familiar. Have I met her before this?”
“You’ve probably seen her picture all over Top Gun,” Coyote tells him.
“Wait where?”
“Oh, you know, the main entrance,” Bob says. “Literally in the classrooms… do you not pay attention to the walls?”
“She’s been through a lot,” Fanboy mutters before taking a sip of his beer.
“What do you mean by that?” Hangman asks. When he sees the others give warning looks, he adds, “What happened?”
Rooster sighs before taking a swig of his beer. “You remember that aviator that went missing a few years back?”
“The one they found half dead?” Jake asks. “Yeah?”
“That was Bullseye,” Bob quietly tells him.
“She was–” Jake had to stop himself from speaking. Anger and sadness filled is chest at the thought of what may or may not have happened to you.
“Yeah man,” Payback says, clapping Jake’s shoulder. “That anger you feel right now? That was us when we found out it was her.”
“She’s never told us what happened, not even Nat.” Rooster tells them. “It’s like she just shut that out. What we do know is that she never stepped foot on a tarmac ever again.”
“She couldn’t bear to sit in the box again either,” Coyote adds. “She had a full panic attack as soon as the glass went down. Rooster here had to carry her out.”
Rooster nods. “So whatever you’re thinking of doing with her, don’t.”
At that, Jake recoiled and frowned. “What makes you think I wanted to–”
“C’mon, Jake. I saw the way you look at her when she and Phoenix walked out,” Rooster drawls. “Y/N is the closest thing I have to a sister, so just please. If you do try to get with her, don’t. And if you manage to actually succeed, don’t push her. She’s strong but she can only take so much.”
Jake only nods.
His mind is swirling with questions he’s too afraid to ask.
What happened to you that made you so terrified to be in the box? Why were you with that asshole if you had so much trauma? Was Nick just a coping mechanism of sorts?
When was he going to see you again? And why does the though of seeing you again make his heart warm?
Hangman didn't know the answers, but he damn sure wanted to find out.
False Confidence Masterlist
Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader
Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe
Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?
Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, anxiety, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.
A/N: This is a partial repost and continuation of my series False Confidence that originally started in March 2023 and was lost when my blog was deleted.
Main Series
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Oneshots
Nothing here yet!
Blurbs
Nothing here yet!
Oh this eats 🧎
bad dreams
PART ONE: some people are ghosts before they are dead. pairing: jake "hangman" seresin x f!reader next part a/n: it's been two years! the words don't come as easily anymore but i'm still trying! i hope yall enjoy!!!
Sometimes a drink isn’t just a drink.
Sometimes quiet isn’t quiet enough.
Sometimes an ache of something — too raw, too familiar — echoes in your gut and leaves you with no choice.
They’ll never believe you, you remind yourself, sometimes over and over and over again. They’ll never believe you when you say you had no choice.
But sometimes you just don’t.
Sometimes the pangs of sadness reverberate so violently through your chest that you shake into a shape that can’t even be termed human. Sometimes the claws of darkness climb up through your throat and speak for you in a voice you don’t recognize. Sometimes your feet move, step after step, carried by a will you don’t know as your own.
Sometimes you end up at a bar, ordering a drink you hate, and feel your mouth salivating for it as your stomach churns.
Penny slid the amber-colored liquid across the length of the counter, sloshing the drink up the sides of the tumbler but never past the rim. Her eyes carefully scan up and down your form, and even as you drop your head away from it, you can feel the weight of her concern settling on your shoulders.
“Haven’t seen you out and about in a minute…” She said as she accepts your card across the counter, as much a statement as it was a question.
But you didn’t have any answers for her.
With a brief shrug, you finally looked up to meet her eyes. “I had some leave.”
“Do anything fun?” Bless her heart for asking.
“No… just caught up on some sleep, that’s all.”
You could see in the gentle lines creasing on her forehead that you weren’t getting that one by without suspicion, but if she had any plans of stopping you before your first sip, she didn’t show them. She grabbed a bowl of peanuts, set them on the counter in front of you, and gave you one last smile. “Always glad to see you.”
For the first time in a long time, you looked around a cloud of unfamiliar faces and believed her. Maybe you recognized a few buzz cuts here and there, but the majority of the excitement rattling around the old beach shack bar came from groups of sailors you had never seen. There must have been a recall on pilots, surely something you had received a memo about at some point in the last few weeks, but checking your email hadn’t exactly been top priority.
Turning back to Penny, you pulled your cigarettes from your pocket and offered her what you could manage of a half smile before pulling your drink from the bar and wandering toward the back porch.
The sun had only just set as you settle into one of the deck chairs out back, thankful that the few pairs wandering around you pay you no more kind than you pay them. It isn’t silent, certainly not as the waves continue to pound the shore line, but it is quieter and that would do for now.
You manage to take your first sip when a rowdy group of pilot-types begin ascending the back stairs, tripping over themselves to make it out of the sand. You manage another as they quiet themselves down and make it to the back door and another when the tall blonde at the back of the group met your eye with an appraising look. He doesn’t seem to mind when you return the look, in fact, if it were possible with an ego as large as his already seemed to be, he continued into the bar with his head held a little bit higher.
You should’ve known that was a mistake then, but your mind was elsewhere as you worked your way to the bottom of your glass.
You knew for sure that it was a mistake when he walked back out with a two drinks in hand.
“Hey.” It was a smooth offer, even you’d admit that, passing you the drink in his hand and giving you a similar, yet far more in depth, look up and down.
There were still a few sips left in the glass in your hand but you accepted the drink and set it carefully down on the table next to you. As his eyes scanned you, you downed what was left in your glass and reached for your new drink. “Hey yourself…”
“Do we know each other?” There’s a quirk in his eye as he asks. Something almost playful, something almost fun.
It takes you about a second to complete your read on him, and another half a second to accept that this is what your next few minutes looked like.
“Yeah, I’m the woman of your dreams or something I’m sure.”
The laugh that bellows from his chest seems to catch him off guard. Any drop of composure, anything he put on just for the approach, washed away in an instant as the true laughter breaks through.
“I was being serious,” he sighs at the end of his laugh. “You actually look familiar.”
“You don’t.”
“Well, I just got back.”
You should’ve ended it. You should’ve known right there and then that it wasn’t worth your time. Other pilots were never worth your time.
Then he smiles again and you just couldn’t help yourself. “Trust me, we don’t know each other.”
“You’re sure?” His smirk curved up at the edge, a challenge.
One pointed stare and a mirrored raise of your brow was all it took and his hands shot up in a playful dance of surrender. His bright smile accompanied it and you swore you felt something far too light bubbling the darkness sitting heavy on your chest.
This was a mistake.
“Hangman.” He extended his hand your way, offering a shake as he laid his call sign on the table, confirming what you already knew his day job to be.
You didn’t take it, sipping at your drink instead, watching as he bit back laughter and pulled his hand back. He had pulled back just enough to offer you a way out, you could tell that was his intention at least. He was giving you space to tell him off entirely, and everything about him, from the perfectly manicured hair to the broad shoulders to the boots on his feet, told you to back out now.
But his smile was telling you something else entirely. And you met him there.
“Is it a good story?”
He tried to hide his satisfaction with the question, doing his best to hold something else in as well as he turned his head to the side and shrugged in a play at indifference that just didn’t suit his ego. “Depends who you ask.”
The porch had emptied out as the sun set completely, leaving just the two of you. So when you leaned your head from left to right and shrugged, he nearly lost it laughing again. “I guess I’m asking you.”
“I’m very quick.”
“Aren’t all of you very quick?”
“They’re quick, I’m very quick.” He gets one laugh out and swallows the rest. “Quite a few have been left behind when they can’t keep up… or so the story goes.”
That almost makes you laugh. Almost. “Not a very good story.”
“Well, no one asked you.”
How long had it been since a smile bubbled to your lips so naturally? It was barely there, and you certainly did your best to hide it with your drink, but it was a real smile. A natural smile.
He must have seen it too, offering you yet another chance to meet him halfway. “I didn’t get your name…”
Your smile isn’t fading. “I don’t have a name.”
“No?” He laughs.
“Nope.” Another sip of your drink brings you painfully close to the bottom.
“You work on base?” He tries a new line of questioning, anything to get more than a few words in a row out of you.
Your head feels a bit heavier than it should as you weigh it back and forth before offering a non-committal hum. He repeats it back to you in question and you sigh, offering him an answer. “Yeah, sometimes.”
“Sometimes? You don’t look like a civilian?”
Part of you can’t help but wonder what that means you do look like, but you don’t bother. Shaking your head, you answer, “not a civilian, just complicated.”
“I can do complicated.”
That seemed to be whatever you needed to push you the rest of the way over the edge. A reminder from the echoing voice in your head, from the clawing darkness in your gut.
This was a mistake.
He didn’t know who you were, he didn’t know what he walked himself into. This wasn’t fair to him.
And it certainly wasn’t fair to you.
Pretending was fun. In some of these darkest moment, distraction was the only thing keeping you sane, but it would never last. You knew it could never last.
You came for a drink, something to wash the bad taste in your mouth away long enough to sleep through the night. You didn’t come to ruin someone else’s night. It just wasn’t fair to either of you.
“I’m sure you excel at it, Lieutenant.” You mock with a heat you hadn’t been able to muster when he first gave you the chance. “Look… this has been a fun few minutes but if you’re looking to have another fun few minutes tonight, you’re wasting your time with me.”
“I disagree.” The offer on the table wasn’t there anymore. He gave you a chance but you were in it now, you could see it on his face. That smile. He was feeding off the back and forth. He liked this.
Fuck. This was a mistake.
“Well, I’m glad I can be a source of entertainment but I’m serious.” Additional heat but his smile never melted. He didn’t just like this, he liked you.
“Serious is a strange name for a woman as pretty as you are but if that’s what you go by…”
You couldn’t help the small turn of a smile this time, you beat it down with heavy fist but he could still pull it out of you like it was nothing.
“Should I try guessing your name?” He’d give anything to keep your smile going. Anything he could. “Normal name? ’parents tried to be unique’ name? you kinda look like you could go either way.”
And as much as you knew you should back out, something light, something you barely even recognized in your chest, kept beating and you kept going. “Well your parents named you Hangman, so I don’t know if you’re really allowed to talk.”
He’s halfway through a sip of beer and sputters at your words. As he catches himself and wipes his lips, he smiles again, “it’s Jake, actually.”
“Jacob or just 'Jake'?”
“I don’t think parents name their kids just Jake-“
“Yeah, Jake is a pretty stupid name.”
“I meant just 'Jake'-“
“I honestly can’t tell anymore if your name is Jake or Jacob now-“
The rumble of laughter is cut short, like wind to a flame.
A group of sailors roll out the door, drunkenly hanging off each other and locked into the chorus of whatever song had been playing through the walls just a minute ago. The three of them barely notice the stairs they’re falling down, so for a few seconds, your heart stays where it is in your chest. But the seconds fall quickly through the hourglass when the taller of the group stands to full height and a roughly 15 degree angle and turns back to where you and Hangman are sitting.
A mustache and a face you know right away.
“Holy shit, Ghost?”
Now silence and the crashing waves is all you can hear.
Jake’s head turns in realization, matching your face, ever so slightly older, to the pictures of previous top gun classes they had been scanning through just days ago. Few are lucky enough to hold the title of best of the best, and you were one of them. Or you had been.
All Jake knew now was that you didn’t fly fighter jets anymore. “Shit.” He says almost silently.
It was a mistake. At least you could leave knowing you were right about that now.
“Bradley Bradshaw…” you hum, taking the last swig of your drink and finding your feet. “Now that’s a pretty unfortunate name.”
Jake wants to laugh with you as you pass by, but you aren’t laughing and when he notices how quickly you’ve abandoned your smile, he can’t find it in him to laugh again.
Rooster musters up a half-hearted and mostly drunken apology that you wave your hand at, figuring he’ll forget he ever saw you by the time the sun re-emerges. He tries again as you step past him but again, you dismiss him. “Don’t worry about it.”
It isn’t until you find the stairs that you turn back to find Jake’s waiting stare. “Thanks for the drink.”
He nods, unable to find any other semblance of words.
And you carry on, hoping the bottle of liquor in your nightstand can calm the nerves boiling under your skin at the mere mention of your call sign.
Omg y’all this writer right here??? The fics are so freaking done well !! The writing style is so nicely done! The way she writes is like—so addicting?? The plot pulls the reader in so nicely, and the detail is so freaking magnificent !!
Right now I’m reading the “Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw”
And Jesus it’s so good??? The cliffhangers leave you on the edge of your seat !! And the relationship between Bradley and the reader—and the kids! 🥹🥹🥹 ugh it’s so wholesome !!
Ive also been reading the beer boy series omg??? I can’t wait to sit down and read more honestly !!
1000/10 would recommend reading any of their fics really!
All Bradley Bradshaw, all the time. 18+ only.
Welcome to my masterlist! I’ve got a little bit of everything TG:M around here from short one-shots to long series. I mainly write for Rooster, but the other Daggers have found their way here as well. Take a look around below the cut!
Keep reading
Heavily recommended writer 🧎
Ereardon Masterlist
Masterlist
Jake “Hangman” Seresin
You Again [Miniseries]
It’s been five years since you last saw your childhood best friend and first love Jake Seresin. But fate, or coincidence, has you back in Jake’s life and he’s desperate not to lose you again.
Slow Burn [Full length series]
After a one night stand with Hangman disrupts the fresh start you were looking for when moving to San Diego, the unexpected pregnancy forces you and Jake learn how to live with each other and tolerate one another. As the months go by, you slowly get to know the real Jake beneath the facade he puts on, but when old flames and work obstacles threaten to topple everything, your new relationship is put to the test.
As It Was [Full length series]
When Jake Seresin calls to tell you he’s accepted a permanent position at Top Gun, you’re elated to finally be living in the same city as your best friend. But everything changes when Jake tells you his news — he has a new girlfriend, and he’s serious about her. And while you want to like her, for Jake’s sake, something about her feels wrong. Jake’s arrival in San Diego also puts you in the direct path of Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, who has set his sights on you despite being Jake’s sworn enemy. Every move Rooster makes, Jake intercepts. What game are these two playing, and why is Jake more concerned about you moving on with Rooster than he is about his own relationship?
He’d Let Her Go [One-shot]
Jake meets the love of his life in college, but after years together he realizes the best thing he can do if he really loves her is to let her go.
My Girl [Full length series]
Jake Seresin could be the answer to all of your dating woes. He’s the full package: steady job, mature, dependable, attractive to a fault. The polar opposite of every guy your age and he’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner. But there’s one roadblock: he’s a single father to four-year-old Ellie. Jake is looking for a level of commitment you’re not quite sure you’re ready to give, and he’s not willing to bring someone into his daughter’s life who isn’t there for the long haul. And even if you are stepmom material, is Jake ready to let someone back in his life while still mourning the recent loss of his late wife?
Robert “Bob” Floyd
One Night [One-shot]
You have your eyes on Bob at the Hard Deck, but have to shoot down Jake Seresin first.
Gas Station Tears [One-shot]
After your boyfriend dumps you, your car stalls out in a gas station parking lot. Luckily, Bob Floyd happens to be there to fix your car. Can he fix your heart, too?
It Was Never Him [One-shot]
You catch your boyfriend Rooster making out with a girl at the Hard Deck and only one person can comfort you in the aftermath: Bob Floyd.
What Are You Thinking? [One-shot]
Bob Floyd is a quiet man. Sometimes you have to ask him what he’s thinking just to know what wheels are turning inside of his head. He always gives you a response, until one day, years into your marriage, he turns the question on you.
Friends Don’t [Full length series]
Bob has been your best friend for almost a decade, ever since he quietly volunteered to tutor you in college. The two of you have spent years chasing each other around the globe – Bob as a WSO, you as a travel blogger. You’ve always been the anywhere-but-here girl, and he’s been your rock. But when a surprise diagnosis threatens to crumble your picture-perfect life, you’re on the first flight back to San Diego, desperate to put down roots for the first time. Will Bob finally have it in him to admit that you could be the love of his life? What will he say when he finds out the secret you’ve been skillfully hiding from him? Or worse, what if he doesn’t find out until it’s too late?
Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw
Come Back [Full length series]
Eight years ago, Bradley Bradshaw was just a college boyfriend who broke your heart. Now, he’s back in your life after a coincidental reunion, and he’s adamant about starting up a friendship. Will it be possible to be just friends with Bradley, or is he inevitably going to end up ruining everything you’ve spent the better part of a decade rebuilding?
Too Far Gone [One-shot]
Your life changed forever the moment you fell for Bradley Bradshaw. But his life wasn’t an easy one to fit into. He had more baggage than lost and found at JFK airport. You were always one for a fixer upper. Bradley could be your ultimate passion project. But was he too far gone for you to save him?
His Best Friend’s Wedding [Two-part series]
Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw has been your best friend for a decade. He’s also your fiancé’s best man. So when he shows up at your hotel room the night before your wedding, it’s just because he’s your friend, right?
Rhett Abbott
A Place Like This [Full length series]
Rhett Abbott has never met a girl like you. You’re a corporate city girl in Wabang on borrowed company time — he thinks there’s no way you would waste it on him. So when you fall for the local bull rider, you’re both a little surprised. What will it take to get Rhett to realize he can give you everything you’re looking for? And will Rhett be able to reconcile the fact that your job is literally to dismantle Wabang and break apart the only place his family has ever known?
Other writing
I ask him for stories
Heat
Gonna post the rest tomorrow I think! If you guys have any request for Top Gun or really anything— lmk! Aha!
Sneak Peak of Upcoming fic!
at a Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x reader Smutty Fic🧎 because I’m too hyper to not share !!
A/N ; Please do not input my work into any ai along with Poe and C.ai! I also do not consent to my work being published on different sites without my consent! I also do not want my work translated without my permission! Ty!
I also have some stuff of Fanboy as well! ^^
NSFW UNDER THE CUT !!
He can’t help how he bites his lip, drawing a bit of blood as he holds in soft pants and whines. He’s sitting on the edge of the couch in your living room. His shirt unbuttoned and messy, his pants already off and littered on the floor by the couch. His eyes closed as he took in the pleasure. It’s been months since he’s had your touch, since he’s tasted you, since he’s breathed in your perfume that defined your scent so nicely. It’s all so overwhelming in such a good way that he can’t help but take it in. His cock twitching in the underwear he still had on.
You’re sitting on his lap, softly kissing up his neck and grinding down with soft movements. His hands are rested on your hips, kneading your soft plushly flesh in his hands, scooting you closer as a whine escapes his mouth. Your shorts hike up your thighs, and your shirt off. “Love you Robby, love you s’much” you mumble with each kiss you leave on his neck. Sucking and nipping along with kissing his flesh. He can’t help but gulp nervously as his eyes flicker open. Lidded they were, filled with love for you. His hair was messy and his glasses were barely holding on, inches away from slipping off his flustered face.
“Honey—B-Babydoll—“ he tries to speak, his voice stuttering within his mumbled tone. Your lips were too intoxicating to him. “Robbyyy” he could hear you whine out to him, your hips continued their actions. Your voice was filled with lust and need. “Sweetheart just—let me have more of you please—“ He couldn’t help but trail on a whimper. Begging to get more of you than kisses on his neck. His hands were still gripping on to your hips, but slowly starting to trail to your ass—yet his hands cradled and remained on your thighs for a good amount of time. The more he spoke, the more his little accent drawl spilled through.
Pausing for a moment, your lips unattach from his neck as you pull away gently. Your eyes flicker open, admiring the scene in front of you. Bob breathing heavily, his mouth now open. His head tilted just a bit back as it gave you access to his neck that was now littered with wet kisses and hickies—bite marks galore—and you loved it. “Look at you Robby, looking so sweet~” you teased, a soft lustful smile adorned on your face. At your tone Bob couldn’t help but groan in pleasure as a response. Your voice, your body that was already up against his—it was almost too much—he loved every second of it. In his tight pants he could feel his cock twitch again.
Sneak Peak of Upcoming fic!
at a Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x reader Smutty Fic🧎 because I’m too hyper to not share !!
A/N ; Please do not input my work into any ai along with Poe and C.ai! I also do not consent to my work being published on different sites without my consent! I also do not want my work translated without my permission! Ty!
I also have some stuff of Fanboy as well! ^^
NSFW UNDER THE CUT !!
He can’t help how he bites his lip, drawing a bit of blood as he holds in soft pants and whines. He’s sitting on the edge of the couch in your living room. His shirt unbuttoned and messy, his pants already off and littered on the floor by the couch. His eyes closed as he took in the pleasure. It’s been months since he’s had your touch, since he’s tasted you, since he’s breathed in your perfume that defined your scent so nicely. It’s all so overwhelming in such a good way that he can’t help but take it in. His cock twitching in the underwear he still had on.
You’re sitting on his lap, softly kissing up his neck and grinding down with soft movements. His hands are rested on your hips, kneading your soft plushly flesh in his hands, scooting you closer as a whine escapes his mouth. Your shorts hike up your thighs, and your shirt off. “Love you Robby, love you s’much” you mumble with each kiss you leave on his neck. Sucking and nipping along with kissing his flesh. He can’t help but gulp nervously as his eyes flicker open. Lidded they were, filled with love for you. His hair was messy and his glasses were barely holding on, inches away from slipping off his flustered face.
“Honey—B-Babydoll—“ he tries to speak, his voice stuttering within his mumbled tone. Your lips were too intoxicating to him. “Robbyyy” he could hear you whine out to him, your hips continued their actions. Your voice was filled with lust and need. “Sweetheart just—let me have more of you please—“ He couldn’t help but trail on a whimper. Begging to get more of you than kisses on his neck. His hands were still gripping on to your hips, but slowly starting to trail to your ass—yet his hands cradled and remained on your thighs for a good amount of time. The more he spoke, the more his little accent drawl spilled through.
Pausing for a moment, your lips unattach from his neck as you pull away gently. Your eyes flicker open, admiring the scene in front of you. Bob breathing heavily, his mouth now open. His head tilted just a bit back as it gave you access to his neck that was now littered with wet kisses and hickies—bite marks galore—and you loved it. “Look at you Robby, looking so sweet~” you teased, a soft lustful smile adorned on your face. At your tone Bob couldn’t help but groan in pleasure as a response. Your voice, your body that was already up against his—it was almost too much—he loved every second of it. In his tight pants he could feel his cock twitch again.
Fellow Top Gun Bob Floyd Enjoyers,, I got something cooking up Fr🧎 and I really hope you enjoy it when I post it tonight 🫣
Very tempted to give a sneak peak—
Stop for a while. do not cross . My name is Amna from Gaza. We lost everything, home, dreams, and everything that gives life. My children are living in bad conditions. I ask you to help me for the sake of my children, for the sake of humanity. Those who cannot donate can share the post and link
@occupationsurfer @northgazaupdates @nabulsi @elierlick @evelyn-art-05 @soon-palestine @fairuzfan @bibyebae @riding-with-the-wild-hunt
A FEAST
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x Reader // has female parts !
A/N; okay so! This is a small Drabble so it’s like—cut short a bit? Along with this is a Drabble and uses female parts! Short word count! Also I’m still getting used to writing so I apologize if this is messy (┳◇┳) I will edit when I see fit for myself aha!
NSFW under the cut!
Gaz doesn’t know how he found himself in this position. His head full of lust, his tongue sucking up your lower lips. Your plush thighs on the side of his head, caging him in. And your soft mewls of pleasure make him twitch in his pants. He just came back from deployment—unlocking the doors of the shred house just to find you dressed in beautiful lingerie. And he couldn’t help himself. You were wrapped up like a present, from him to unwrap over and over again. And he loved it. His mind is fuzzy as he finds himself kneeled, while you’re laid on your back on the edge of the bed.
He eats you out like a starved man. Your plush thighs over his shoulder, while his hands rest under your upper thighs. His hands knead your flesh while his mouth slobbers against your wet slicked folds. He hums in delight as your taste fills his mouth. Your whimpered moans make him hard, but your lower lips make him harder. He’s still clothed in his shorts, yet he has no shirt. Your body lays naked on the bed. Sweat trickling down your forehead.
“Fuck love..” he whispers as his licks over your clit. The sounds of wet slurping noises follow after, sending waves of pleasure up and down your spine. He doesn’t speak to you—he speaks to your pussy. “So wet for me. So so fucking delicious.” He mutters, downright pussydrunk as his lips smack, covered in your juices.
His tongue is buried in your hole but peaks out to lick and feast more. Every time you try and squirm away his hold on you locks down. Forcing your body to push back up against his mouth, his nose, his face. His nose brushes up on your clit, officially making the majority of the bottom of his face wet with your slick.
His eyes close for a split second as he groans in pleasure. Inhaling your sex scent like it’s a new perfume. Slurping down your juices like a forbidden drink that’s supposed to be out of reach.
“Gaz!—Kyle.! Oh!” Your voice is hoarse as it calls out his Call Sign then his real name in pathetic mewls of pleasure.
One of your hands finds his head of hair, gripping it and making him grunt out. Your other hand trying to muffle your moans, yet proving unsuccessful as Gaz purposely trails up and down your wet folds and nips at your clit teasingly. Your body twitches in delight, his movements are so overwhelming. You can feel the knot in your lower belly. The way his tongue moves and explores your lower wet cavern. The way he doesn’t stop as he can feel you clench down on his tongue, only making him continue on more. He can taste you. He can feel you as you get more wetter under only his tongue and soft peppered kisses on your wetness.
Dripping, he thinks. You’re absolutely dripping. Soppy and wet and you coat his face so nice. His eyes peek open to look up. Your eyes are shut in pleasure and your mouth open as it produces those beautiful noises. His mouth leaves your soppy and quivering cunt for a moment, peppering wet kisses up your thighs. He can smell your scented body wash—inhaling it so nicely. But he cut himself short as his wet lips found your clit, his tongue teasing so nicely.
🚨Help save my DISABLED Grandmother and my family from Gaza
I am Hamsa Mohammad, a 24 years old Engineer, I just graduated when the war occurred ! My mother and I were very lucky and escaped 5 Months ago .. but we left our hearts in Gaza! We didn't mean to leave them behind .. we feel guilty every single day that we're safe while they're not ! We tried everything but couldn't collect the funds, my mother is a single mother and we are barely managing to cover our expenses and sending them as much as we can to help them survive in Gaza . Until a friend I met here in Cairo, told me that hopefully you will help us ! 🙏🙏🙏 Help Me Rescue my Family of 4 from Gaza : • MY 83 years old DISABLED GRANDMOTHER (ستي فوزية) right before this war she suffered from a broken pelvis and a broken left hand, and she cannot walk or even go to the bathroom. She also suffers from severe heart muscle weakness and needs many medications, diapers and a urinary catheter ,they can't even find or afford proper drugs and painkillers , everything is extremely expensive PLEASE WE NEED TO GET HER OUT ASAP !! • MY SISTER AND HER FAMILY - Lamis and her husband Malik (29 and 32 years old) They're both sick and suffer from Hepatitis type A.
•Karma 3 Months Old: She is 3 months old , she was born through this terrible war in a tent .. She is malnourished , gets sick ,intestinal catarrh and fevers all the time ! •Ghaith 3 years old: He suffers from severe allergic reactions and he vomits, get sick all the time from polluted water and bad food They're all cramped up in a tentwith other people .. Please I PLEAD to you help them escape
PLEASE SAVE HAMSA'S FAMILY FROM GAZA PLEASE HELP US !! Donate HERE SHARE AND DONATE AND MENTION IF POSSIBLE !!
Donate HERE
EVERY € COUNTS !!!
We need the money for :
Travel arrangements to Egypt ( $5000- per person) for 4 family members.
Urgent Medical Treatment and surgery for my Grandmother( $3000-$5000).
Housing expenses.
Living and transportation expenses during the initial period of travel.
Food and medical expenses.
VERIFIED FUNDRAISER BY @nabulsi
A FEAST
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x Reader // has female parts !
A/N; okay so! This is a small Drabble so it’s like—cut short a bit? Along with this is a Drabble and uses female parts! Short word count! Also I’m still getting used to writing so I apologize if this is messy (┳◇┳) I will edit when I see fit for myself aha!
NSFW under the cut!
Gaz doesn’t know how he found himself in this position. His head full of lust, his tongue sucking up your lower lips. Your plush thighs on the side of his head, caging him in. And your soft mewls of pleasure make him twitch in his pants. He just came back from deployment—unlocking the doors of the shred house just to find you dressed in beautiful lingerie. And he couldn’t help himself. You were wrapped up like a present, from him to unwrap over and over again. And he loved it. His mind is fuzzy as he finds himself kneeled, while you’re laid on your back on the edge of the bed.
He eats you out like a starved man. Your plush thighs over his shoulder, while his hands rest under your upper thighs. His hands knead your flesh while his mouth slobbers against your wet slicked folds. He hums in delight as your taste fills his mouth. Your whimpered moans make him hard, but your lower lips make him harder. He’s still clothed in his shorts, yet he has no shirt. Your body lays naked on the bed. Sweat trickling down your forehead.
“Fuck love..” he whispers as his licks over your clit. The sounds of wet slurping noises follow after, sending waves of pleasure up and down your spine. He doesn’t speak to you—he speaks to your pussy. “So wet for me. So so fucking delicious.” He mutters, downright pussydrunk as his lips smack, covered in your juices.
His tongue is buried in your hole but peaks out to lick and feast more. Every time you try and squirm away his hold on you locks down. Forcing your body to push back up against his mouth, his nose, his face. His nose brushes up on your clit, officially making the majority of the bottom of his face wet with your slick.
His eyes close for a split second as he groans in pleasure. Inhaling your sex scent like it’s a new perfume. Slurping down your juices like a forbidden drink that’s supposed to be out of reach.
“Gaz!—Kyle.! Oh!” Your voice is hoarse as it calls out his Call Sign then his real name in pathetic mewls of pleasure.
One of your hands finds his head of hair, gripping it and making him grunt out. Your other hand trying to muffle your moans, yet proving unsuccessful as Gaz purposely trails up and down your wet folds and nips at your clit teasingly. Your body twitches in delight, his movements are so overwhelming. You can feel the knot in your lower belly. The way his tongue moves and explores your lower wet cavern. The way he doesn’t stop as he can feel you clench down on his tongue, only making him continue on more. He can taste you. He can feel you as you get more wetter under only his tongue and soft peppered kisses on your wetness.
Dripping, he thinks. You’re absolutely dripping. Soppy and wet and you coat his face so nice. His eyes peek open to look up. Your eyes are shut in pleasure and your mouth open as it produces those beautiful noises. His mouth leaves your soppy and quivering cunt for a moment, peppering wet kisses up your thighs. He can smell your scented body wash—inhaling it so nicely. But he cut himself short as his wet lips found your clit, his tongue teasing so nicely.
LOVERS CREEK
John Price x chubby Reader // prologue
A/N; this is my first time actually writing a story for any fandom really. And I’m gonna try and be consistent as possible! This story will have multiple parts—so please be warned of that! The story also switches from past to present a lot and I don’t usually use first person so! This will also be uploaded on my AO3 !
Please note I do not allow my writing to be translated, published anywhere else that isn’t me uploading it, and I would not like it on any Poe AI or any of the sort without my permission, or acknowledgment ! I’m still learning as I go about c.ai and Poe so! Also I do not own any of the call of duty characters used in this story! I really “own” the y/n ( reader ) !
Story Summary: You and Price are childhood best friends, and almost Highschool sweethearts. But unlike a cliche, you both hold feelings in for years, even after graduating. Communication between you too soon diminishes as life after graduation gets busy. Price has succeeded in hiding his feelings, until he gets a letter at base. It’s a letter from you. And it’s about your wedding..
Dear John,
I hope this letter finds you well! It was hard finding anyone in the area that was still mutual with us to know where you were. But I took a trip to see your mother and she filled me in plenty. I didn’t know you were still doing that military job of yours, figured you’d find a steady life after. You always talked about a lake house you wanted to buy after your military duty.
But enough with miscellaneous talk—I plan to do that later with you— I’m inviting you, John Price, My best friend, to my wedding which will be hosted at the Saint Crossroads Church. The same church our mothers would force us to go to on Sundays. I remember how you always itched to take that tie you always wore off, but your mom would slap your hand away just in time. You’d sit next to me in the first row as the pastor would preach his word.
But now, on September 17th of this year—and next week!—, he will be my officiant, marrying me off to my soon to be husband. And I hope to see you there, in the front row like old times.
Sincerely,
Your Best Friend
His eyes read over the letter multiple times. His rough hands held the delicate letter with such softness that he barely touched it.
He wasn’t expecting this. John could feel his heart race, pounding and trying to leap out his chest. You. His best friend that he hasn’t forgotten was getting married. There was denial sprouting in his head. You can’t be getting married right? He thought to himself, but the fancy yet simple letter that laid softly in his head showed him more than the truth. It showed him the harsh reality. He remembered how your mom and his bonded—making you guys best friends as well. He remembered how the both of you would stick together around primary school, all the way to secondary school. He could remember his hidden feelings for you—he hid them so he wouldn’t ruin the friendship.
A conflicted sigh left his mouth. His rough hand put the letter down on his desk as his other hand shagged through his hair. He knew he had to go. A no show would break you.
And he’d love to see you again..
A/N ; just the prologue! Nothing too big but a bit short! I’m really just testing if anyone wants to read this aside from my friends aha!!
TagList ; @jenniferpendragon
I think one of the kindest things you can do for people with various mental health struggles is just... let people back into your life after they've been absent for a while.
Making friends as an adult is so fucking hard already and isolating yourself from other people is a very common symptom of depression, anxiety, burnout, ocd, trauma, grief, etc. Which means that someone will do the hard work of recovery/healing and resurface back into a world where their previous friends have written them off because they stopped showing up.
So if you know someone where you're like "yeah we could have been better friends but they fell off the map a bit" and that person suddenly reaches out, or starts showing up to events even though you kind of forgot they were still in the group chat... well they may have been Going Through It and you don't actually have to punish them for their absence you can just be glad that they're back.
STOP. DON'T SCROLL. READ THIS TO SAVE LIVES IN GAZA. Below are some VETTED campaigns to support Gazans. These people have been experiencing an active genocide for almost a full year. Donate and share widely.
(may 27th)
Save a displaced Gazan Family (@ranibra) - Rania is married with five children, her husband needs medical care. She is now responsible to save her children. Help them evacuate.
Support Fahmi and his family (@fahmiakkila) - Fahmi's life has been turned completely upside down, and he now finds himself responsible to save his parents, sisters, & brothers - 7 members.
Save the Maliha family (@dinamaliha) - Dina wants to save her mother, two sisters, and three brothers. The family lost contact with their father when the genocide started. They desperately need to get to Egypt.
Save Firas' family (@firassalemnewacccount @prosolitudeeee) - Firas is a father of two children, a 10-month-old boy and a two-year-old girl, who are in need of safe haven in Egypt.
Help Husam and his family (@husamthaher) - Husam desperately needs to save himself, his wife, and 3 young children.
Help Nader's family to evacuate from Gaza (@nadershoshaa) - Nader and his family, consisting of six members, are currently displaced in the south; help them evacuate and survive.
The Shamaly family wants to survive (@daee571989) - Help save 15 kids and their family, who are living a horrifying active genocide.
Ahmd needs urgent evacuation (@ahmd-iyd) - Ahmd has lost his livelihood to this genocide, and needs funds to help his family evacuate and rebuild their life.
Help evacuate Hani's family (@skatehani) - A dear friend, and a Palestinian skater trying to evacuate 10 members of his family; he has lost his father to injustice.
Help Iman’s family find safety (@imaneyad) - Iman has a family of 7 who need to find safety.
Help save Youssef's family (@bba3lo @mahmoud7878) - Ahmed Baalousha wants to save his wife, his two sons, his daughter, as well as his parents and siblings.
Support Ruba and Amal's family's urgent evacuation (@rubashaban @amalshabn) - Ruba and Amal's family are lacking the basic necessities of life; they have an elderly father who desperately needs to be evacuated for medical care.
Save little Yusuf and his family (@ahmednabubake) - Yusuf is in an intensive care unit fighting for his life in Gaza; he needs urgent evacuation alongside his family.
Help Omar evacuate (@omarsobhi) - Omar is a 20 year old Palestinian student who wants to save himself and his family from this genocide.
Help Belal and his family to evacuate from Gaza (@alaajshaat) - Belal has lost too much to this war and needs to support himself and his family.
Do not scroll past this list without contributing. This list makes it easy for you to find a fundraiser to support. Choose at least one. Your contribution will save lives. If you cannot donate, share these campaigns.
FIND MORE CAMPAIGNS HERE
LOVERS CREEK
John Price x chubby Reader // prologue
A/N; this is my first time actually writing a story for any fandom really. And I’m gonna try and be consistent as possible! This story will have multiple parts—so please be warned of that! The story also switches from past to present a lot and I don’t usually use first person so! This will also be uploaded on my AO3 !
Please note I do not allow my writing to be translated, published anywhere else that isn’t me uploading it, and I would not like it on any Poe AI or any of the sort without my permission, or acknowledgment ! I’m still learning as I go about c.ai and Poe so! Also I do not own any of the call of duty characters used in this story! I really “own” the y/n ( reader ) !
Story Summary: You and Price are childhood best friends, and almost Highschool sweethearts. But unlike a cliche, you both hold feelings in for years, even after graduating. Communication between you too soon diminishes as life after graduation gets busy. Price has succeeded in hiding his feelings, until he gets a letter at base. It’s a letter from you. And it’s about your wedding..
Dear John,
I hope this letter finds you well! It was hard finding anyone in the area that was still mutual with us to know where you were. But I took a trip to see your mother and she filled me in plenty. I didn’t know you were still doing that military job of yours, figured you’d find a steady life after. You always talked about a lake house you wanted to buy after your military duty.
But enough with miscellaneous talk—I plan to do that later with you— I’m inviting you, John Price, My best friend, to my wedding which will be hosted at the Saint Crossroads Church. The same church our mothers would force us to go to on Sundays. I remember how you always itched to take that tie you always wore off, but your mom would slap your hand away just in time. You’d sit next to me in the first row as the pastor would preach his word.
But now, on September 17th of this year—and next week!—, he will be my officiant, marrying me off to my soon to be husband. And I hope to see you there, in the front row like old times.
Sincerely,
Your Best Friend
His eyes read over the letter multiple times. His rough hands held the delicate letter with such softness that he barely touched it.
He wasn’t expecting this. John could feel his heart race, pounding and trying to leap out his chest. You. His best friend that he hasn’t forgotten was getting married. There was denial sprouting in his head. You can’t be getting married right? He thought to himself, but the fancy yet simple letter that laid softly in his head showed him more than the truth. It showed him the harsh reality. He remembered how your mom and his bonded—making you guys best friends as well. He remembered how the both of you would stick together around primary school, all the way to secondary school. He could remember his hidden feelings for you—he hid them so he wouldn’t ruin the friendship.
A conflicted sigh left his mouth. His rough hand put the letter down on his desk as his other hand shagged through his hair. He knew he had to go. A no show would break you.
And he’d love to see you again..
A/N ; just the prologue! Nothing too big but a bit short! I’m really just testing if anyone wants to read this aside from my friends aha!!
TagList ; @jenniferpendragon
Here's a website where Palestine GoFundMes are vetted and shared that you can send out to people. The url is gazafunds.com
Easy to use and simple. Just share the site whenever someone asks for GFMs for Palestine.
So random, but any Gaz lovers out there??? I need a beta reader for something I’m writing smut wise 👨🦯👨🦯
I have two beta readers but they usually beta read for smth else jdjjd so—if anyone wants to be a beta reader in general it would be greatly appreciated LMAOOO 🧎🧎🧎feel free to message if you’re interested
Along with having moots,,,I’m new to this if u couldn’t tell 🧎
NAVIGATION
ABOUT ME
ETC
Hey hey first things first ! On here I would like to be referred to a Beau! I’m a fanfic writer for a few fandoms in which you can find on my masterlist as well!
Down Below the cut is my MasterList to the things I write! So far there’s only COD stuff cause majority of my friends enjoy that 😅
I do want to put a trigger warning on here! And I will also put trigger warnings on the writing themselves! I tend to write a lot of angst and smut because I’m very bad at coming up with full fledged out plots sometimes but aha! Oh well—
MasterList
Call of Duty
- John Price
LOVERS CREEK ; click here !
- Simon Ghost Riley
- Kyle Gaz Garrick
- Johnny Soap MacTavish
MORE TO COME..
Ask box is open!
You can only reblog this today.
Sooooo, guess who’s writing a John Price x Reader where they’re childhood friends that love each other but won’t admit it! And years go by with communication that seems to diminish. Only for price to get a letter that he’s invited to a wedding…your wedding .! He doesn’t know how to feel, but he knows his heart pounds once again as his long lost love for you entere his mind….
There’s already two chapters in progress and my beta readers are helping out ! :]
The youngest Palestinian journalist is a 9 year old girl.
Her name Lama Jamous.
Lama has been reporting on tik tok what has been happening in Gaza. Her father is a journalist working for Al Jazeera and is trying to get her out of Rafah.
Link to the gofundme from the video
Please share her story.
Loving it so far 🫶🏽✨
Lost & Found
Parental!DogDay & Child!Reader
A/N: Hey there! First post, I know, but I couldn’t help but share this. A friend of mine encouraged me to, so I hope other people like it as well! This is only the first part and I have much more planned for this story, I hope you enjoy! I know this ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, but that may or may not be intentional.
Spoilers for Poppy Playtime Chapter 3: Deep Sleep!
Warnings: Mentions of character death, blood, gore, and the like. Child experimentation will also be mentioned. This story will contain references to the information in the game as well, if uncomfortable with any of those topics then please proceed with caution.
________________________________________________
DogDay and the others knew well that something was amiss in the building, several of the Smiling Critters had sought him out due to the fact that he was the leader. CatNap was the only one that had been distant for a long time now, becoming something that he couldn’t recognize.
And then it happened. The Hour of Joy. The metallic scent of blood was something he could never rid his nose of, his ears still rang from the sound of screaming from both children and adults. The Prototype had clearly been convincing the cat of the Smiling Critters, for nothing but praises fell out for the creature amongst that dreaded red gas that poured out of his perpetually gaping maw.
DogDay had been able to reach the others first, encouraging them to not stand idly by and follow something as monstrous as The Prototype and his newly fashioned pawn.
It ended poorly, their rebellion was met with nightmarish hallucinations and a set of claws that sliced their bodies to ribbons.
Even they were not impervious to the red gas that covered the ground like a dense fog, announcing CatNap’s presence before he could be seen. Few of them remained, far less than what once was. They rotated hideouts regularly, knowing well that they had to keep moving to avoid CatNap’s patrols.
Currently, the place they had sought refuge in was some long abandoned room of the orphanage. Those that remained were silent.
CraftyCorn was frantically drawing something on a dirtied sheet of paper, the colors bleeding against her hooves as she struggled to keep a steady grip.
Bobby BearHug was huddled in a corner, clutching a blanket that was shredded in places and nearly fell apart as she held it to her chest, her body shook from silent sobs or perhaps fear of what would come.
DogDay himself was solemn, resting on the floor with his back pressed against the wall. They had just lost Hoppy days prior, or at least it had seemed like days. Any semblance of a concept of time was lost in this pit of despair, the inability to even catch a glimpse of light that wasn’t artificial was disheartening and disorienting. The others in the room were in no state to actively patrol, their minds in shambles and in various states of decay.
There was no optimism to be found, he knew that. Any attempt to even lighten the mood would be met with dismay and the kind of disgust that caused nausea to wash over oneself and clouded any other senses. They had lost far too many for any form of joy to be found.
CatNap may have been the one to end their lives, following the guiding hand of The Prototype, but their blood was also on his hands. Their screams kept him awake, the fear in their voices as they called out and weeped for help kept him going.
Slowly, he rose from his seated position to his feet, the sun pendant that hung from his zipper clinked against the metal with the motion and swung gently before resting against his chest. It was enough of a sound to draw the eyes of CraftyCorn, to which DogDay gave a dip of his head. “I’m sorry to startle you, that wasn’t my intention,” he started, voice rough and scratchy from disuse as he met the eyes of the other.
“I’ll take the first watch, be safe and try to get some rest, please.” The please sounded pathetic in his own ears, a sign that despite his attempts to remain strong for the other survivors, he was suffering from the grief and loss of their shared companions.
The idea of losing them too was something he refused to linger on, a small sliver of hope remained in his heart despite the horrors that threatened their very lives.
CraftyCorn didn’t seem to mind the interruption, even going as far as lowering her hooves as she looked over at him, the red crayon in her grasp rolled to the floor with a quiet thump. “Be careful, DogDay.” Her voice was soft, it was a comfort in this trying time. As gentle as the very petals of the flower she once smelled like, an extension of her kind yet hardy nature.
He wanted to reassure her, to give her some hope that he might return. But that wasn’t a guarantee, he knew that.
Regardless, he nodded before approaching the door, opening it slightly before listening carefully for any sounds. Relieved to have been met with relative silence, he crept through the door before shutting it behind him. Complete silence was impossible for him to achieve, given his size and the overall state of the orphanage itself.
His movements were slow and deliberate, each placement of his hand or foot was mindful of the debris that lined the halls. Shattered picture frames with glass littering the floor and various toys that had once belonged to the children here were a common item to stumble across. There had been moments when the odd toy activated or some rotting piece of wood snapped under the pressure of a bed that rested upon it, but it was silent other than that.
His ears were active in keeping note of his surroundings, as his nose focused on the horrible scent of lavender and the intensity of it. It stuck to every crack and crevice of this building, yet it was relatively faint at the given moment, a positive in an otherwise grim situation. His eyes swept every open door that he passed by, peering into the room for several moments before moving on. To say he was tense and alert was an understatement, every fiber of his being stood on edge as he patrolled the halls.
He froze in his tracks as a sound caught his attention, a sound that he hadn’t been expecting to come across. It had been a sob, a shuddering and weak sound that left from an open door in front of him. Had he not been focused as intently as he was, he could’ve missed it. DogDay stayed in that position as he listened further, making sure that he hadn’t been imagining such a sound. His doubts were shattered as he heard the sound repeat, the fear in the weeping was unmistakable.
The thought didn’t even cross his mind that it could potentially be a trap, that some sick monster would be willing to mimic such a heartbreaking sound.
me: i love reading angst
me reading angst:
me, a supposed writer, when i can’t find the very specific scenario i made up in my head in any fanfic: am i- am i supposed to write it myself??
repeat after me
I WILL FINISH MY WIP
I WILL FINISH MY WIP
I WILL FINISH MY WIP