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starkwlkr · 2 months

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bitch, i’m a mother! | f1

female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) the reader is around the same age as daniel. i like that almost every story i read about a female driver her team ends up being porsche and I’m not mad about it :) so for this fic, the reader is driving for porsche lol also I’m just making up names for the engineers and team principal. also because I’m in love with charlie hunnam, my man is gonna make an appearance

part 1 part 3

Y/N BEING THE MOTHER OF EVERY DRIVER IN THE PADDOCK

“Y/n is so great, you’re going to love her. She’s the best.” Oscar listened to his new teammate as they walked into the Porsche hospitality. The rookie immediately felt out of place with him being the only one in papaya colors while Lando was in casual clothes.

“Hey, Lando!”

“Lando! How’s it going?”

“Norris, hey!”

Lando greeted most of the Porsche team with a smile while Oscar nodded at them. “I hang out here sometime if you couldn’t tell.” Lando joked.

“So if I can’t find you in Mclaren . . ”

“There’s a big chance I might be here.”

Oscar nodded once again. “Noted. Where’s Y/n?”

As if on cue, Y/n walked into the Porsche hospitality with her team principal by her side. Once she spotted Lando, she called out his name. As the Brit approached the driver and team principal, he gave her a big hug. It was the start of the 2023 season and they hadn’t seen each in a while, of course he was going to give her a hug.

“I’ll see you around, Y/n. Nice to see you, Lando, and you must be mclaren’s rookie. Welcome to F1, I’m Adam.” The Porsche team principal greeted Oscar.

“Thank you—” before Oscar could continue, Y/n cut him off.

“I’ve heard so many great things about you! And you’re an Aussie too! What is it with Mclaren and Aussies? Whatever, I’m glad you’re here, Oscar. I hope you enjoy yourself. Have you eaten yet? I was just in my way to get breakfast. Let me tell you a secret, the Porsche hospitality has the best food in the paddock.” Oscar instantly felt at home with the female driver. She had a comforting presence that Oscar immediately took notice of.

“Told you she’s the best. Just wait until it’s your birthday. She bakes you a cake.” Lando told Oscar.

The entire grid was together for their drivers briefing early in the morning. After going over every detail of the upcoming Grand Prix, the race director decided to let the drivers voice their concerns.

“Does anyone have any questions?”

Y/n raised her hand. “I wanna know who banned the pit wall celebration.”

“Anyone else?”

“Yeah, I’d like to know as well.” Lewis added.

“We can discuss pit wall celebrations at a later time. Excuse me, I am needed somewhere else.” The race director excused himself.

“Don’t worry, I don’t care about being banned. I’ll be there like a proud mom taking millions of pictures of you when you win.” Y/n whispered to Lewis as she layed her head on his shoulder.

“And I’ll be doing the same when you win.” Lewis replied.

“What about when I win? I also want millions of pictures taken of me and the exact same chocolate cake you baked for me for my birthday a year ago. Extra sprinkles please.” Lando smiled innocently.

“Fine, win first then I’ll bake. Shouldn’t be that hard unless you got a tractor for a car.” Y/n teased. “I love you, Lando. Of course I’ll take millions of pictures of you when you win.”

It was a perfect day to race in Silverstone. Like always, Lando had his family in attendance. He was in the mclaren garage when he spotted Y/n on one of the tvs being interviewed by Lissie.

“Hey, that’s my grid mum!” He told his engineer as if his engineer didn’t already know. His smile quickly faded when a blonde man appeared behind Y/n in sunglasses. Lando then watched as the man’s name appeared on the tv.

Charlie Hunnam, actor.

Who was he and why was he with his grid mom?

“Hey, that’s the dude from Sons of Anarchy! My wife watches that series.” Lando heared someone say. He continued to watch the screen as Lissie asked Charlie a question about Y/n.

“She’s incredible, absolutely amazing. I’m happy I finally get to see her talent in person.” Charlie replied, smiling at Y/n which made her blush.

“He’s British . . ” he mumbled.

After Lissie thanked Y/n and Charlie for the interview, the camera kept rolling on them as they walked away. That’s when Lando saw Charlie hold Y/n’s hand then pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“She’s dating a British man and she didn’t tell me?!”

Lando immediately walked out the garage and straight to the Porsche garage. He had a strong feeling Y/n would be showing her new lover around so he started there. He soon spotted the couple talking with the Porsche team principal, Adam.

“Oh, hey Lando! I was about to look for you. I want you to meet Charlie.” Y/n excused herself from Adam and introduced Charlie to her grid son.

“It’s very nice to meet you, mate. Y/n had told me a lot about you.” Charlie smiled.

“Yeah, I’ve heard nothing about you. Nada, zero, not a single thing, zilch.” Lando then turned his attention to Y/n. “I think we need to talk.”

“Okay . . ” Y/n said confused as she turned to Charlie to tell him she would be right back. Lando took her hand and dragged her to a corner away from Charlie. “Lando! What’s wrong? Are you nervous about today?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”

Oh.

“You always tell me everything and now I kinda feel betrayed. Especially when i also found out he’s British!” Lando said dramatically.

“Lando, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it just sorta happened. We met a few months ago and he’s made me the happiest ever since. I wanted to introduce you properly today.” Y/n explained.

“He makes you happy? Like genuinely happy? Because if he doesn’t I will run him over repeatedly.” Lando warned.

Y/n laughed and brought Lando in for a hug. “I know you would, but there’s no need for that. I think he’s the one.”

“Before you leave, there’s actually one more gift for you and you don’t have to guess who it’s from.”

Logan was confused, but happily accepted the gift. It was the annual F1 secret santa and he had just finished unwrapping his present. A gift wrapped perfectly with a blue bow was placed in front of him. The tag read ‘From Y/n’ in neat handwriting.

“Thank you, Y/n! I don’t even want to open it, it’s wrapped so good.” Logan chuckled.

Every year, anyone who got a nicely wrapped gift knew it was from Y/n. And any year that someone new entered the season, Y/n would give them a gift during secret santa. She did it for Lando, George, Alex, Charles, Yuki and Guanyu when they were rookies and now she was doing it for Logan and Oscar. She had even sent Nyck a present as well, she wished he was in the paddock doing secret santa as well though.

“Okay, I’ll open it, I’m too curious.” Logan finally unwrapped the present and saw it was a Miami Heat jersey singed by LeBron James. Logan almost freaked out when he saw the signature.

“Holy shit! Wait sorry, I can’t curse, but holy shit!” He took the jersey out of the box and admired it. “This is incredible.”

“You love it?” He heard the familiar comforting voice of Y/n from behind him. “I hope it’s the right size.” She joined Logan in front of the camera.

“It is, don’t worry,” he chuckled as he gave her a hug. “Thank you so much, I love it.”

“I think you just adopted another son.” The camera man told her.

“I love all my grid sons equally.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 driver!reader #f1 one shot #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #platonic #f1 x female reader

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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months

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The Better, Hidden Half

Requested Here!

Part 2 Here >

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader (takes place in The Rookie 1x20-2x1)

Summary: Tim doesn't tell just anyone that he's married. When he's quarantined and his life is threatened by a fatal virus, he asks Lucy to call you, and ends up showing everyone what you mean to him.

Warnings: angst, fluffy comfort at the end, spoilers for episodes 1x20 and 2x1 (this is basically a rewrite, but still includes a brief reference to the suicide line from Tim). reader stress cleans?

A/N: The anxiety/stress cleaning bit is completely self-indulgent; sorry. I tried to manipulate Tim's conversations with Lucy to make them sound more platonic (I don't know if it worked though). I absolutely love this idea and had a ton of fun writing it!🤍

Word Count: 3.9k+ words

Tim Bradford is a man of few words, and he keeps his life separated into two distinct areas: work life and personal life. He tried to bring the two together once, but hated the constant worry that someone from his work life would threaten to hurt people in his personal life or worse, act on their threats. For that reason, for his family’s safety, Tim keeps his life separated, and only a choice few have been chosen to be trusted with a glimpse of both sides of Tim. Angela, Wade, and on occasion, Bishop, see a side of Tim that doesn't exist when he's at work.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How is she?” Angela asks, sitting beside Tim for roll call.

Tim rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “I trained her, I’m sure she did fine. Better than your golden boy boot, anyway.”

Angela smiles and leans in to whisper, “Didn’t mean Chen.” She turns her attention to Jackson, calling, “80 might be the passing grade, boot, but if you don’t get at least a 90, you should turn in your badge on general principle.”

Tim leans forward to add, “Officer Chen, I will take it as a personal insult if you get anything less than a 93.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucy answers. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do with all your new free time? Might I suggest a book club?”

Angela elbows Tim under the table, and he glances at her quickly, giving her a displeased stare which only makes her work harder to hide her smile.

“What are you talking about?” Tim asks.

“You know, after I pass, there won’t be any more daily evaluations to write.”

“Whether I evaluate you daily or weekly, I will continue to judge you every minute. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

As Grey enters, Lucy turns to Nolan, who whispers, “I can’t believe he’s single.”

“Tell me about it,” Lucy replies, rolling her eyes. “Evaluating a wife daily would cut into his ‘man of honor’ time.”

They silence as Wade directs the TOs to only take easy calls while the rookies finish their last shift before their exams. When Tim assures that he follows direct orders, he keeps his eyes straight ahead, knowing that Angela and Bishop are ready to tease him the moment he looks in their direction.

✯✯✯✯✯

7-Adam-19, silent hold-up alarm activated at Madame Megan’s psychic shop. 2417 Vine. Code 3.

Tim and Lucy enter the back room, taking control of the situation quickly, and he dials in once again to being a cop. Not a family man or anything of the sort. Just a police officer.

As Lucy walks out, and the (fake) psychic hits on Tim, he can only think of one thing. Excusing himself from the room, with a lack of grace that is unlike him, Tim lets his mind wander for just a moment. He thinks of a promise he made, a vow he took, and then his focus is back on his new case, a missing person discovered by a phony Hollywood psychic.

✯✯✯✯✯

Miles away, you are trying to focus on work, though you find it much harder than Tim to simply push your family and your personal life from your mind at a moment’s notice. Fiddling with your necklace, you refrain from grabbing your phone, wanting to text the only person on your mind. Oblivious to the dangers Tim is learning about from the CDC and Homeland Security, you sigh and clench your hands into fists before attempting to focus again.

Before you make any progress on starting the project awaiting your attention, your phone rings. Tim’s name appears on your screen, and you rush to answer, dread filling you. He never calls while he’s working, and you immediately expect the worst. Surely if it were something terrible, Angela or Wade would call you. If Tim is calling, that means he is okay, he is alive.

“Hello?” you ask, releasing a sigh when Tim says your name.

“Are you alone?” he adds, his voice strained.

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“I need you to stay where you are or go straight home. There’s a terror cell with a biological weapon; we’re doing everything we can to find them, but I need to know you’re safe.”

“Tim- yeah, of course. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I- I really can’t say anything else. Not about what we’re doing. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all, okay?”

“I will. Be careful, Tim. I love you.”

“I love you.”

Your phone beeps as the call ends, and your hand finds your necklace again, one finger slipping into Tim’s wedding ring. He leaves it with you each morning, taking it back with gentle touches and loving kisses when he returns each night. Today, all you can do is trust that he is good at his job and that he will protect you and the rest of LA, and then come back to you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim and Lucy approach one of the possible address in the search for newly discovered members of the terror cell.

“Man. And here I thought that test was gonna be the hardest part of my day,” Lucy muses.

“Best case scenario, it’s tomorrow’s problem,” Tim points out. His thoughts, however, are stuck on you, especially when Lucy asks what the worst case is.

“Took you long enough,” the man, Peter Langston, says as he opens the door. “Bag’s in here.”

“Sir, we’re here about the bus you took from Phoenix,” Tim explains.

“No kidding. I called you about the bag.”

“And what bag is that?”

“I thought it was mine on the bus. I picked it up by accident.” Tim follows Langston into a bedroom as he continues, “Noticed as soon as I got home. Called right away. Still took you guys like six hours to get here.”

“Uh, sir, we’re not here about a bag.”

“So, you don’t have mine? My computer’s in there… I went through this one for an address, and all I found was some weird science equipment.”

Tim glances back at Lucy, who calls for the task force at the mention of ‘weird science equipment.’

“Sir, did you touch anything in there?” Tim asks, pulling gloves on.

“Yeah, I cut my finger going through it looking for an address. Some kind of broken vial.”

Tim’s eyes widen and his breath catches as the man raises his bloodied finger, adding that it hasn’t stopped bleeding since it was cut. Hemorrhaging, Tim knows.

“Everything okay in there?” Lucy calls.

“Yeah. Just stay out there,” Tim demands.

The man coughs, and Tim flinches as blood lands on his neck and up onto his jaw. Looking down at the blood on the man’s shirt, Tim’s mind forgets the divide between work and personal life. He takes the initiative to lock Lucy out, slamming the door on her to keep her safe, but his true concern is you. If something happens to him, who will look out for you? Who will be your shoulder to cry on? In a moment, as the reality of the situation dawns on him, Tim thinks like a husband, and he begins to regret keeping you, his wife, hidden for so long.

“Tim, no!” Lucy yells, but she steps forward too late.

Tim is on the other side of the door, a new division created as others are dissolved.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim finds baby wipes on a nearby changing table, wiping the blood from his skin as he lies to Langston, telling him it will be okay and distracting him with meaningless treatments to combat the “bad case of the flu the police were warned about this morning at roll call.”

Langston disappears into the bathroom in search of cold medicine, and Tim walks to the door to ask Lucy, “Everything all right out there, Chen?”

“Uh, yeah. The CDC’s on their way,” she responds. “Hey, you need to come out of there.”

“That’s not gonna happen. Got to keep this contained.”

“Tim-“

“It’s gonna be alright, boot.”

Tim knows that Lucy is concerned about him, and he is similarly concerned for her. He feels responsible for her safety as his rookie, but his thoughts toward her are completely and totally different from his fears concerning you, driven by love rather than mutual respect and duty.

“You keep your head in the game, okay?” Tim encourages Lucy. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

As Tim looks at the blood-covered wipe in his hand, he thinks of you, and how you’ll respond to the potential notification that he didn’t make it, taken from you by the very thing he tried to protect you from. He turns his attention back to the sick man feet away from him before his thoughts spiral. Tim needs you, so he needs to focus and survive.

✯✯✯✯✯

While the CDC is arriving at the house and quarantining Tim and the infected man, you are pacing in your shared bedroom. Memories of you and Tim exist in every inch of this house, and every moment that goes by without an update increases your worry. Walking into the closet, you find one of Tim’s recently worn shirts, changing into it before picking up the remote to distract yourself. With Tim’s pillow clutched to your chest, you try to laugh at the ridiculous sitcom on the screen, but it doesn’t work as well as you hoped.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Officer Chen, you want to tell me what happened?” Dr. Morgan asks, dressed in full hazmat gear as she enters.

“Yeah, uh, the bus passenger mistakenly grabbed the wrong bag, and the virus must have been in it because he coughed up blood on Tim,” Lucy explains.

“Did you get any blood on you?”

“Uh, no. I was out here. Tim immediately closed the door.”

“Smart man.”

Tim hears Dr. Morgan’s comment and clenches his jaw, knowing you would disagree entirely. At least in this case.

“Hey, doc,” Tim greets, standing against the door.

“How you doing?” Dr. Morgan inquires.

“Fine. But Mr. Langston’s struggling a little.”

“Can you describe his condition?”

“Yeah. He, uh, started coughing blood about 20 minutes ago. Now he’s got a pretty wicked nosebleed.”

“Why aren’t they coming in? Where’s my ambulance?” Langston asks.

“It’ll be here any minute. Just… stay put. Save your energy.”

Lucy interrupts to ask, “Where’s the vaccine?”

“Still in the air,” Dr. Morgan says. “Should land in the next hour or so.”

Scoffing, Lucy argues, “You can’t make Tim wait in there. He might not be infected.”

“Sorry. Quarantine rules exist for a reason.” Dr. Morgan turns to the door and asks Tim, “Officer Bradford, do you mind if I put you to work while you wait?”

“You want to know what’s in the bag?” Tim knows digging through the contents is dangerous, but waiting without doing anything won’t increase his chances of getting home to you.

“Yes, I do.”

“Copy that. Chen, I’m gonna turn on my body cam. You can monitor it from out there.”

“Okay. Please be careful,” she responds.

Tim hears your voice in his mind, telling him the same thing. He trusts himself to listen to you more than his rookie.

“All right. Here we go,” Tim says, using his baton to open the bag.

“Wait. Wait. What is that bottle?” Dr. Morgan wonders.

“Looks like the delivery device,” Tim guesses, raising it carefully from the bag. “It’s a misting fan.”

Dr. Morgan calls Homeland Security with the new information on how the terrorists are planning to spread the virus. As Tim continues searching the bag, failing to find identification or target information, Lucy sees Langston raising a chair in the mirror and yells for Tim just before he is knocked unconscious.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your house is as clean as it has ever been. Using your nervous energy and anxiety-fueled need to move, you clean each room in an attempt to keep your mind from worrying about Tim. You could call someone and ask for an update, but they probably can’t tell you anything. The only comfort you have is knowing that Angela and Wade would call you if you needed to know something. The silence is deafening, but it’s also a good sign.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim? Tim!” Lucy continues, growing concerned at the lack of reply.

Tim opens his eyes, moving backward quickly when he sees a puddle of blood running toward his face. He sees Langston standing across the room, mumbling about needing to get out as he tries to break the window. Tim tases him as he stands, and Lucy’s concerned yells continue. Covering his face with his shirt, Tim handcuffs Langston to the bed, shuffling backward as Lucy demands his answer.

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” he replies, breathing heavily. “Well, that was fun.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tim chuckles. “Kind of depends on your definition of the word.”

While Lucy tells Dr. Morgan to get the vaccine, and the LAPD sends patrol units out to find the other terrorist, Tim keeps his eyes on Langston, but his mind is on you. He should ask someone to tell you and find a way to let you know what is going on, but part of him knows that you are separate from this for a reason. You’re likely worried enough without knowing that Tim’s chance of being infected rises with each moment.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim watches Langston die, unable to do anything as he begs for help and convulses. Imagining himself in Langston’s place, Tim decides that he has to do something. He can’t go out like that, he won’t, but more importantly, he can’t leave you wondering. If Tim dies today, he is not dying without talking to you one last time, showing everyone around him that you are the best part of him.

He leans against the door in silence until Lucy says, “Hey, I, uh- I just checked with Dr. Morgan. The vaccine’s minutes away.”

“You know, you’re good at a lot of things – lying isn’t one of them,” Tim replies.

“You think I’m good at things? Can I get that in writing? … How are you doing? Are there any symptoms yet?"

"I’m sweating like a pig. But it’s probably because it’s 100 degrees in this room.”

Tim sighs just before Lucy assures, “It’s gonna be okay. I really believe that.”

“I’m sure you do. But if it isn’t-“

“Don’t think like that. It’s-“

“If it isn’t,” Tim repeats. “I’m not going out the way my man Pete here just did.”

“What are you saying?”

Tim sighs again, realizing what he said. He would never leave you like that; he’s a fighter. “I need you to do something for me, Chen.”

“Anything.”

“My- my wife is probably worrying herself sick right now. If this doesn’t end like you think it will, can you tell her that I fought to get home to her? Just- just keep an eye on her if anything happens. Wade and Angela, too.”

“Wife?” Lucy asks softly.

Tim smiles, glad to talk about something other than himself or the virus released in the room with him.

“Yeah. We eloped a while back; Grey, Lopez, and Bishop were there.”

“You’ve never mentioned her.”

“I keep her separated. She - everything in my personal life – would be at risk if there wasn’t a divide there.”

“I get that. What’s she like?”

Tim says your name, closing his eyes and picturing you as he tells Lucy how beautiful, kind, and loving you are. “She’s my better half. I don’t- can’t imagine not going home to her.”

“I promise, Tim. I’m confident you will go home to her, but… I promise.”

“Thank you,” Tim says quietly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Please tell me that’s the vaccine,” Lucy says when Dr. Morgan returns.

“It is,” she answers quickly, walking toward the door quarantining Tim. “Stand back, Officer Chen. You’re not wearing protective gear.”

“Yeah.” Lucy steps back, hoping Tim is okay, and that he gets to go home to you.

“Officer Bradford, it’s time to let me in,” Dr. Morgan calls.

Tim opens the door, greeting Dr. Morgan before answering that he’s not feeling too bad. She tells him that she’s going to administer the vaccine. “It’s experimental, right?” Tim asks.

“That’s correct. So, we’re just going to have to wait and see what happens. Maybe nothing. Maybe you grow horns. But for now, I’d say you might’ve dodged a bullet.”

Tim looks at Lucy to ask, “Can you get Lopez? Ask her to call for me?”

Lucy nods, pulling her radio out to contact Angela. She knows that Tim will need you, no matter how the vaccine works… or doesn’t.

“Lopez,” she says, sighing before saying, “Tim wants to know if you can call his wife.”

“Of course,” Angela answers. “She’ll be at his side, even if I have to go get her in the shop.”

Lucy smiles at Tim, and he sighs as Dr. Morgan administers the vaccine. There’s more hope surrounding Tim now, but the fight may not be over yet.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you see Angela’s name on your phone, you consider not answering. Biting your bottom lip to hold your tears in, you answer.

“He’s okay,” Angela begins.

You sigh in relief, a few tears breaking free anyway. “Thank you, Angela.”

“The vaccine is experimental, so they’re taking him to the CDC for observation; you can visit with the proper protective gear. Do you want me to come pick you up?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“See you in a few. And, just so you know, he didn’t call me.”

“Who did?”

“His rookie.”

Angela reminds you that she’s happy to pick you up if you want before ending the call. Tim mentioned me, you think. Then you wonder whether or not that’s a good thing.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, I heard you guys saved the day,” Lucy says, exiting Langston’s house to meet Nolan, Jackson, Lopez, and Bishop.

“It was a group effort,” Jackson corrects.

“Glad you’re okay,” Nolan expresses.

“Me too,” Lucy sighs. “I- I mean that you’re okay, too.”

“How’s Tim?” Angela asks.

“I think he’s gonna be all right. Now, 24-hour observation at the CDC.”

“I’ll bet my pension he just told doctors Tim Bradford does not ride in a wheelchair,” Angela jokes as Tim walks out.

“Only way I’m leavin’ out of here is on my own two feet,” Bishop imitates.

“Don’t you guys have paperwork to finish?” Tim retorts.

Tim looks at Lucy, nodding his thanks before continuing to walk toward the car waiting to transport him to the CDC. He stops suddenly in the yard, growing dizzy before he falls backward onto the grass.

“Officer Bradford!” Dr. Morgan yells.

Lucy, Angela, Bishop, and Jackson run toward him before the CDC holds them back. Someone calls for an ambulance, and Angela backs away to make a call.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What happened?” you ask, answering Angela’s second call.

“Meet us at Shaw instead of the CDC,” she says.

You can hear yelling in the background, and repeat, “What happened?”

Angela says your name, unyielding as she says, “Shaw. I’ll meet you there.”

You inhale deeply, turning toward Shaw. Knowing that you have no chance of beating an ambulance escorted by police cars, you grip the steering wheel, hoping that Los Angeles traffic has grace on you, and you make it to Tim’s side quickly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim better make it,” Jackson says.

“He will.” Angela knows that he’s a fighter, but she also knows that losing him will destroy you. He has to make it for himself, for the police department, and most importantly, for you.

In the ambulance ahead, Tim goes into anaphylactic shock. Lucy helps the paramedics and glances at Tim’s left hand. The line where his wedding ring sits is barely visible, but she whispers for him to keep his promise, to keep fighting.

Once the ambulance and the police cars enter into the hospital parking lot, Nolan notices a woman with a gun, alerting the officers surrounding the ambulance before the firefight starts.

Lucy covers Tim in the ambulance as the paramedics assist him as well as the injured medics. Nolan shoots the woman in the shoulder, but his gun jams as he moves closer to her.

Tim opens the ambulance door, downing the armed woman on a surge of adrenaline. Stepping onto the ambulance driveway, he asks Nolan if he’s okay.

“I should have reloaded on the move,” Nolan mutters. “You?”

“I should’ve taken yesterday off,” Tim answers.

“Alright, Officer Bradford, let’s go,” a nurse says, pushing a wheelchair to his side.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Angela!” you call, jogging to her side.

“Don’t freak out,” she begins, but your eyes widen when you see the bullet holes covering, well, everything.

“Where is he?”

She nods, leading you around her shop. Tim is standing beside Nolan, arguing with a nurse.

“I can walk. Clearly, I’m fine,” Tim argues.

You don’t think about how many people are watching as you walk to Tim’s side. He turns toward you, his eyes softening when he sees you.

“Get in the wheelchair,” you demand.

Tim sighs but does as you say. Nolan and Jackson look at each other in shock, and Lucy smiles as she says, “His wife.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you walk into Tim’s hospital room, he looks like he’s been waiting for you.

“I’m sorry,” he begins.

“For what? Not listening to the nurse?”

Tim chuckles as he raises his left hand, pulling you to his side. “No. I’m sorry for not showing you off more, for never telling people about us. I worried you; I know I did, and you don’t deserve any of it.”

You lean forward, running your fingers across Tim’s jawline as you smile. “You don’t have to show me off. I know why you do it, Tim. Being a secret, being separated and safe, I get it. What I don’t like is not knowing if you’re okay.”

“I don’t want the separation anymore. You are my entire life, and- I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but I’m not risking this again. The idea of not making it home, leaving you alone, with no one knowing you or how much you mean to me… that was terrible, and I’m sorry.”

Pursing your lips, you lean toward Tim and look into his eyes before scanning your eyes over his face.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Trying to figure out where the Tim I know went.”

Tim smiles, moving over in the bed and tugging you against his side. He taps your necklace before raising your hair away from your neck. You unclasp your necklace, sliding Tim’s wedding ring off the chain. Tim lays his left hand in your lap, and you put his ring on slowly before kissing his hand.

“I love you,” Tim says.

“I love you. And I accept your apology, even though I didn’t need it.”

“Ready to meet the rest of my-“

“Friends?” you fill in, smiling.

“Colleagues,” Tim finishes, shaking his head as his arm tightens around your waist.

“Thank you for making sure Angela called me.”

“How clean is the house?”

You laugh, pressing your face against Tim’s shoulder. He knows you well, and though you didn't know what was truly at stake over the last few hours, you did miss him.

“Hey, Mrs. Bradford,” Wade greets, smiling as he leads a small crowd of officers into the room. “I have some rookies here who don’t believe someone would marry Tim.”

“I changed my mind,” Tim replies. “Get out.”

You elbow him gently, smiling as you stand. “It's much easier when he doesn’t tell people. No association to him.”

Tim laughs behind you, and after shaking hands and introducing yourself, you return to Tim’s side: where nothing can hurt you, everything is safe, and you’re the most important thing in the world.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #requests #fem!reader

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bumblebeesfromvenus · 6 months

Text

Everybody loves somebody 🫀

RE6!Leon S. Kennedy x wife!reader

A/N: This is my first time writing for older Leon!! I recommend you listen to 'Everybody loves somebody' by Dean Martin as this fic is based around that song. This is a birthday present for my dear friend @vampkennedy ! Happy Birthday, Raf ❤️

~Fi 🐝

Warnings: so much fluff, it's actually disgusting, so fucking sappy, how dare they be so in love, maybe like a smidge of angst, get your tissues ready

Word count: 2.8k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

🕯°°••°°••°°••°°••°°•🤎•°°••°°••°°••°°••°°🕯

The dimly lit room was filled not only with warmth, but with love. The love you held so deeply in every crevice of your heart, just for him. Your heart and soul were his entirely, there was no power that could change that. You loved him so fully, like you had never loved anyone before. No one could could compare to him, let only the love he had for you, too.

Every moment with him felt like a waltz, a graceful dance through the warmly illuminated walls of the castle that were your bound hearts. You were almost floating, his grip on you never wavering, and neither was yours. How two humans could hold each other so tightly, yet so incredibly lovingly at the same time was a mystery to you- until you met him. He opened doors you didn't know existed, holding the key in his hands.

He made your chest feel tight with the amount of affection and adoration you harbored in your heart. The gentleness he had about him, so soft it made you melt like honey, was only for you. You were the only one to see it, to hear it. To feel it. Leon was a rough man- tattered around the edges, cold and stoic, but he was nothing but warming and smooth around you. Like all of his doubts, flaws, whatever it was, just vanished the second you were in his vicinity.

There was no feeling greater than having him hold you, your head against his chest listening to his heartbeat, while you just lay there in silence. But it was never really silent. Your love was beyond words, no matter how quiet it was, words of praise and affection always lingered. His hand in yours never failed to remind you of your connected souls.

Deeply intertwined, roots tightly woven around each other like an ancient tree that would stand forever more and never falter. You lifted each other up, two forces that couldn't exist without one another. And you never, ever had to. He'd always be with you and you with him, no matter what might come or what challenges you'll face. You were his, and he was yours.

You recalled your years together, a smile sitting on your cheeks. It was your 5 year anniversary as a married couple. Marrying him was one of the best opportunities you'd ever gotten, and you would do it again in a heartbeat. It was a decision you would never second guess, how could you, when you were so lucky? You could still see it- like it had only happened yesterday.

The nervous look in his eyes, the way he fiddled with his hands. The soft and gentle, sometimes awkward, rookie you fell in love with still lingered deep within him, even if he'd never admit it. But once you made your way down the aisle, all his worries were gone. He couldn't contain the tears that cascaded down his face as the reality finally caught up to him. He would marry you. He would be your husband, your best friend, and whatever else you needed him to be.

The truth was, Leon couldn't wait to feel the coolness of your wedding ring against his stubbly cheek or the warmth of you pressed against him in the early morning hours. He couldn't wait to come home to you, his wife. God, that word made him all warm and fuzzy inside. He had actually beaten the odds and got his happy ending. You were his happy ending, and he would be grateful for you until the fates decided his time was up.

And even then, he'd play the role of Oprheus to get you, his muse, his Eurydice, back from the depths of the Underworld. He'd play the fool if he had to, all for you. Always for you.

You stood in the kitchen, the heat of the oven and stove making small droplets of sweat roll down your skin. The dinner that was boiling on the stove enveloped the room in aromatics and savory smells. It was a favorite of Leon's, a little surprise you were preparing. You used to go to fancy restaurants and other over the top anniversary activities, but ultimately this is was where you felt the most comfortable.

A nice candle lit meal in your shared home was more than enough to satisfy you heart. So you stood here, one hand on your hip, the other stirring the pot with a wooden spoon. You were humming a tune- whatever was on the radio at the moment. Still in your comfy clothes, you turned off the heat to let the dinner simmer. You'd planned to dress up a little- just because you were at home didn't mean you couldn't doll yourself up a bit.

You made your way to your shared bedroom, laying out the dress you'd picked and some jewelry. Now that you think of it, you hadn't seen Leon in a suit in a while. He always looked so good, distinguished, put together. It made a small frown creep onto your face. You rummaged through his side of the closet, seeing whether he still had that one suit that you loved.

Sadly, it was nowhere to be found. You figured he probably sold it or gave it to a friend. He never really wore it, after all. You could always buy him a new one, maybe as a christmas gift. There were definitely occasions where a well tailored suit would come in handy, and maybe you could convince him to wear it just a little more often, just for you. He'd do just about anything you asked, which you sometimes used to your advantage.

You'd give this a little more thought another day, for right now there more important things to worry about. Like would he be home in time, or would you have to spend your wedding anniversary alone? Would be hurt, and if so, how badly? You shook those thoughts away. He was careful. He always was, and you assumed he took extra caution for today. He would always come back to you.

You began getting dressed, he would be home soon, you looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled. God, 5 years. What a number. It felt like you've barely been married for more than a week, still in the honeymoon phase, and at the same time you could've sworn you've been together for a lifetime. Time does fly when you're happy. Truly happy.

You heard the jingling of keys and the click of the doorknob turning. Followed by a rustle of various unidentifiable items and heavy steps on the floor. "Honey? I'm home!" rang out his beautiful voice. It made your heart beat higher, just how domestic that phrase was. You walked towards the noise, checking on the food on your way.

You were about to say something, but when you laid eyes on him, all words left you. He stood there, in the suit you had looked for earlier, hair slightly slicked back, with a pretty tie around his neck. "I see we both had the same idea," he smiled, walking over to you and wrapping your still stunned form in a hug. "Happy 5 years, baby." Leon whispered in your ear, then placing a sweet kiss on your neck.

The stubble on his face made a shiver run up your spine when it touched your skin. "Happy anniversary, sweetheart." You replied, gently caressing his cheek. Leon captured your lips in a passionate kiss, pulling you closer by your waist while your hand was on his cheek and your other arm draped around his neck.

"God, you're gorgeous, look at you," he mumbled after pulling away, his eyes looking over you and admiring what he saw in front of him, lips lightly stained by your lipstick. You chuckled lovingly. "Thank you, love. You look so handsome in that suit. When did you have time to change?" You asked, your hand resting on his chest and slightly toying with the lapel of his jacket.

He was at work today, which usually got pretty bloody and grimey, yet he was here looking like a Hollywood star. Clean and smelling of that irresistibly cologne of his. "Well, showers do exist. Not to mention that a quick stop at a motel to get ready for my special lady is 100% worth the ass kicking I'll get tomorrow." He explained with a grin.

"You left early? Leon-" he stopped what was about to be a worried lecture with a finger to your lips. "I won't hear it, not today. Today s'just about you and me, baby." He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You returned an equally soft smile. "You're right, Honey. Dinner's ready,"

"You made dinner too? Here I was, thinking this was my anniversary present," he smirked, looking you over. Playfully rolling your eyes, you plated everything, Leon closely watching from over your shoulder. You'd set the table earlier today, nothing too extravagant, just a simple tablecloth, the fine silverware, and some candles.

"That smells and looks amazing, baby." He muttered, his arms wrapped around your waist. "S'your favorite," you smiled, awkwardly moving around in his arms to get everything ready. "You're perfect." He mumbled against your shoulder, placing soft kisses on your exposed skin. Your cheeks flushed and your heart skipped a beat. Even after all those years together, his compliments still made your heart soar.

You let out a breathy chuckle. "I don't know about perfect-" you were quickly interrupted by Leon gently turning your head and pressing a kiss to your lips. "But I know. You're perfect, end of discussion." He smirked. "Alright, alright, I'll take your word for it." You giggled, continuing with your task. He hummed in satisfaction, letting his lips graze over your hair.

He let go of you at some point, though reluctantly, he seated himself at the dining table as you served dinner. You ate and chatted, laughing and enjoying yourselves. The atmosphere that you two created drenched the room in love and affection, and a heartfelt symphony of your giggles.

"That was delicious, sweetheart," Leon sighed, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Good. I spent all day on that damned chocolate souffle!"

He laughed, taking your hand in his. "It was worth it, but..," he trailed off, making you raise an eyebrow,"I had a different dessert in mind." He grinned, stroking your knuckles. "Oh, don't worry. I'm sure your lovely wife would agree to that if you asked nicely," you smiled sweetly. He chuckled and leaned back in his chair, letting go of your hand. "I'll keep that in mind." He said in a low tone, a certain look in his eyes.

The radio was playing in the background, it was set on an oldie channel that you liked listening to while cooking. The soft tunes of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and The Mills Brothers were echoing through the room, the candles in the middle of the table flickering. "I should get started on the dishes," you said softly, getting up from your seat. Leon immediately leaned forward, quickly grabbing your forearm across the table to stop you.

"No, no, no, sweetheart, sit back down." He ordered gently, pulling you back into your chair. "Honey, the kitchen is a mess-"

"I don't care. It's our anniversary. Relax for once, baby," he asked of you, a pleading look in his eyes, the grip he had on your arm softening. A guilty feeling washed over you. You had the habit of running around like a headless chicken sometimes, trying to get as much done as possible.

"M'sorry. I guess I just want everything to be... perfect." You muttered, avoiding his gaze. His brows pulled together, in worry or out of empathy, you didn't know. "It's more than perfect, Darling. Please just enjoy today. Enjoy us. It's been five years since I watched you walk down the aisle, can you believe that?" He chuckled softly, his thumb stroking over your skin. He couldn't even believe it. How did he get so lucky? It was a mystery to him, but god, he was so incredibly grateful.

He never thought he'd ever have this. And somedays, he was anxious, just waiting for everything to vanish, slipping from his grasp. Nothing brings him more comfort on those days than to hold you and remind himself that you're here, with him because you chose to, and that you would never leave. "God, I know. What a perfect day that was, huh?" You sighed, the corners of your mouth turning upwards. There was shimmer in his eyes, a light of pure joy, just like on that very day. Some things never change.

Leon hummed softly in response knowing that no words would do justice to how he felt back then. You sat in the comfortable silence for a while, occasionally catching each others' gaze, which was then met with a loving smile while your fingertips brushed as your hands rested on the table. The radio was still playing softly in the kitchen, the gentle tunes filling the room perfectly.

You perked up, your brows raising once you heard the fluttering melody of one of you favorites; Everybody loves somebody. In turn, Leon's brows scrunched together in confusion. You got up with a smile on your face, if his face would allow it, his brows would furrow even further as you did so silently. "Honey, what are you-" you interrupted him by pulling him out of his chair wordlessly and dragging him to the middle of your livingroom where your hands settled on his chest.

His expression softened once he realized what was happening. You wanted to dance with him. His heart swelled, to have you wanting to do something so intimate and romantic with him. It was a bit silly since you've been married for so long but you never failed to touch his heart. His hands found your waist and gently pulled you closer to him, but you were never close enough for his taste.

You started swaying to the rhythm, the hands that were previously on his chest now resting near the back of his shoulders. Leon matched your rythym, holding you tightly while moving the both of you to the melody. He looked so good. The dim light of the room hitting his features so perfectly. They way he looked at you so adoringly made your cheeks flush.

"You know, I listened to this song on my 17th birthday, wondering when my sometime and where my someplace would be...," you began softly, the gentle smile on his lips prompting you to keep going," and, well, my sometime is now. My someplace is right here, with you, in your arms. Words cannot describe how much I love you. You make my heart sing, Leon." You smiled, placing a hand on his cheek.

His eyes widened slightly and you could feel him stiffen at your confession, but he never stopped swaying you. The way his name fell from your lips in such a truly loving way made his heart beat out of his chest. A sheen of tears glistened in his baby blues, his brows pulled together and you could feel him lean into your touch.

"I love you. God, I love you so much." He sighed, a slight tremble in his usually so confident tone as he placed his forehead against yours. "I love you more." You whispered, your warm breath fanning over his lips. Your nose brushed against his before you pressed your lips to his in a searing kiss. Your lips set his heart aflame, just like they'd done so many times before.

Although searing, the kiss didn't lack passion. Leon couldn't help but groan against your lips, wrapping his arms fully around you and holding you close. You made him feel so loved, like he never had. God, if he could carve out his lovesick heart and serve it to you on a silver platter, he would. A broken sigh escaped him as he metled into you. The sound rumbled in his throat, sending vibrations through your skin.

You only pulled away when you felt a small, wet drop met your hand. You were breathless, the kiss took all the air from your lungs. Looking up at him, you saw something incredibly precious. He was crying. He loved you so much and was completely overwhelmed by your affection that he was crying. You gently wiped the tear with your thumb before caressing his stubbly cheek. "Don't cry, my love." You cooed, making him let out broken cries.

"Shhh.. I'll kiss all your tears away, I promise you that." You whispered with a small smile, pressing gentle kisses on his cheeks. You could taste the saltiness of his tears on your tongue. "I'll love you forever." He mumbled, brushing a piece of hair out of your face, a small smile tugging at his lips. "So will I." Your head fell forward against his chest, his head resting on top of yours. You closed your eyes, sighing contently. As you listened to his steady heartbeat, one thing became crystal clear to you. You've never been so sure about something.

Now was your sometime, this was your someplace and he was your someone.

This was where you belonged.

🕯°°••°°••°°••°°••°°•🤎•°°••°°••°°••°°••°°🕯

I hope you have a lovely day, Raf!<3

#bumblebeesfromvenus #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil leon #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #RE6!Leon #resident evil x reader #resident evil 6 #older!leon

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punk4ndisorderly · 9 months

Text

waking up in vegas

Y/N just wanted to forget about this week from hell. In Vegas, she forgets just about everything, including her aversion to marriage.

Y/N gets extremely drunk and marries a random man she meets in Las Vegas

absinthe | last name | consequences

warnings: underage drinking, possible innuendos.

"I told you this was a bad idea. Bringing rookies to Las Vegas is bad luck!" Alex groaned loudly, walking back and forth in the suite's sitting room.

"This isn't bad luck, this is Trevor being a dumbass." Quinn corrected from his seat, his eyes glued to his phone. "Well, him and the rest of you jackasses. No offense, Leo."

The rookie looked away from the amazing view to look at the veteran. "None taken."

Trevor sighed, throwing his head back against the seat rest. Quinn wasn't wrong about him making really dumb decisions. He could feel the gold ring burning into his skin as he listened to his friends discuss his latest fuck-up. He had really gone and done it this time, hadn't he?

"First of all, Leo was never here, alright?" Jack asserted. "The only thing worse than getting married when you're one shot away from getting your stomach pumped is to do it with a drunk minor you got a fake ID for in the entourage."

"This is why I don't drink with you guys." Jamie said from the bathroom.

"No, you don't drink with us because last time you did you puked everywhere."

"Guys! Not the time." the blond man intervened, raising his hand in the air, the golden band demanding everyone's attention. "I need to figure out how to undo this."

Everyone looked at each other, no clue what to do next. It wasn't common for a group of men in the 18-24 year-old range to know about legal proceedings or how to clean up their own messes. It was usually all tidy and taken care of before they even realised there was a problem to be dealt with.

"Well, first off, we need to find your wife." Quinn pointed out. "Then, we need to get down to whatever wedding chapel you dumb idiots stumbled into, and ask for an annulment, I guess. Oh, you should warn your agent and ask for a lawyer, too."

"Can you guys imagine Z having to give a random chick half of his money because he got blackout drunk in Vegas? Oh dude, you'd go down in hockey history." Alex chuckled to himself, getting hit with a pillow not long after.

"God, my mom is going to kill me." Trevor groaned, throwing himself on the large, unmade bed he had woken up in with a complete stranger he had decided to marry staring down at him.

"Forget about your mom, Trev. The Ducks are going to lose their shit." Cole mused. "This is terrible publicity."

"There's no such thing as bad publicity, brothers." Jack countered, poking Trevor's back with the remote he found on his dresser. "Get up, dude. Quinny's right. We've got to find your wife and convince her to unmarry you."

"Oh trust me, she doesn't want any of this." he gestured to his body, going limp again after he did. "She ran faster than Bolt when I showed her the name on the ring."

"Yeah, well, we need to get to her before anyone else does and this gets out." Quinn said matter-of-factly, annoyed that, yet again, he has been roped into one of Trevor's shenanigans.

"Does she know who you are?" Jamie asked, propped up against the doorframe.

"Nope. She didn't do the screech and she wasn't taking pictures of me sleeping when I woke up. Last time that happened..."

"This happens regularly?" Leo nearly screeched, looking panicked.

"If you're Trevor, yeah." Cole shrugged. "Never to this extent until today, but... Don't worry, rookie, the fact that you look alarmed already tells us you've got more functional brain cells than he does, you'll be fine."

A sudden knock on the door halted the conversation, prompting Quinn to release another exasperated sigh and answer it. He should definitely stop letting his brother convince him to come on their trips, he already knew he'd be the babysitter at the brink of a nervous breakdown by the end of it.

He opened the door, being greeted by a small woman, backed up by tall redhead, surprise evident on their faces.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah, we're looking for the ass my best friend ran away with and ended up married to last night. You know anything about that, sad-looking little boy?" Y/F/N/2 fired away, pointing at the eldest Hughes.

A cackle came from inside, Cole turning up beside him in the next instant. "I think you're in the right place, ladies."

Quinn rolled his eyes, stepping aside so the two women could come inside, meeting the other men in the living room, who immediately sized them up and down, eyebrows raised, most likely waiting for their reaction.

No reaction. They could not give two shits about them, and the annoyed looks on their faces were proof of it.

"Where's Travis?"

"Trevor." Y/N corrected her friend, using her fingers to rub at her temples. "I'm pretty sure we've got the right room."

"Yeah, you got the right one..." the blond man spoke quietly, probably for the first time in his life, coming from the bedroom. "Wife."

welcome to the ducks, leo! also, i totally made up the "rookies in vegas bad luck" thing. i do it all for the plot!

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras x you #hockey #hockey boys #hockey blurb #team usa #cole caufield #alex turcotte #jack hughes #leo carlsson #jamie drysdale #quinn hughes

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thisismeracing · 5 months

Note

some professors are not here today so I'm free (for some hours at least) and I went through your jb22 tag and!! HUSBAND!JENSON IDEAS FILLED MY HEAD!!

and specially im stuck on the him being married to a woman in motorsport... I've thought stuff for her being either a reporter or an engineer🫣

reporter!yn:

they two would be teasy from the start, way before they started dating. when he first came to f1, it was her first year in the reporting world and my my, they instantly clicked!! he would be flirty mid interviews and she'd blush sooo hard, literally wouldn't know how to act

eventually he asks her out, maybe after a win of his because they had made a bet

"if I win today, you owe me a date"

"guess I'm rooting for your teammate now"

NO HOLDING BACK IN TEASINGS!!! and so they date and after some years, when they get married, they are literally one of the most iconic couples. she's grown more into him, is even more comfortable teasing him in front of the camera and he absolutely LOVES it (I just know he has that silly grin of his every time)

ofc he calls her darling nonstop

"Jenson, comments on [x thing]?"

"well, Mrs Button-"

MRS BUTTON ALL THE WAY

and he's such a romantic

and, lastly, when he retires he joins her in interviews and they are really known as Mr and Mrs Button, THE reporting duo

engineer!yn:

oh god, now this one is a match. it's the way they entered f1 together and they learn together, from each other. it's the way they've stayed many, many nights in the garage together, just to make the perfect car with his needs and her brains. and one of those nights, after 5 years of working together, them being alone there makes them kiss and oh, they are really inseparable now

their first time would be the making love type of thing, with so much longing

it's the "she fell first but he fell harder" for sure!! in every race weekend he'd bring her her favourite snacks while he just stays there and admires her working

small crash tw: in case of a crash, she'd be worried sick, but the moment he'd step out of the car, they'd be hugging nonstop

all that ofc behind closed doors, because he doesn't want people to think that she's where she is now because of their relationship

he wants people to see her worth, he wants to give her space to shine

but one day, he wins and she is up there in the podium with him and they can't hold up and they kiss at LAST

when they get married, before every race, he kisses her hand and specifically her wedding band in the most tender manner

when he decides to retire, she stays in f1 still, though wishing she was still his mechanic, as she was all 17 years in the sport

but then she suddenly sees him in the reporting role and she's like !!!! MY HUSBAND !!!!

and honestly they'd be simply unstoppable, with them exchanging knowing looks and smiling and just remembering all those years back, when they were just a rookie and an engineer

all in all, husband!Jenson, whichever case, is an extremely loving and caring man who would do everything for his wife. he'd always try to make her laugh, whenever she'd feel down he'd comfort her nonstop and he'd be her safe place completely

now now we all know that he's surely also a man that craves for his woman's pleasure and would do pretty much everything for it🫣🫣 can totally imagine after race sex to take out all his left stamina AND to celebrate...

-🌻

reporter!yn

jenson would totally ask about her if its ever a different reporter interviewing him. the two meaning jokes would make her forget what even the interview was about because let's be honest how does one stays chill after jenson freaking button hits on them?

"if I win today, you owe me a date"

"guess I'm rooting for your teammate now" AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA DKGJSDKJGSKHJDSKJHSDH

I think this line is totally something that they would say on camera, live tv, and all, they crossed a line, but everyone loved their dynamic at this point so it wasn't a problem.

engineer!yn

the whole garage roots for them even when they're oblivious to how in love they are!!

I loved this scenario too oh my oh myyyy

asjfkaj after race sex, but also before race sex (its about getting ready and yk he believes that it can give him some luck hehe)

#🌻 anon #millies inbox #thots #jb22 #jenson button #f1 x reader #thirsty

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ryndicate · 1 year

Text

How bad do you want it? ⨳ Ichida Ryuken

"Then you know what to do."

notes: for @semisgroupie 's what's done in the dark collab! I've finally written something for bleach and I couldn't be happier to be writing about daddy Ishida >:3

warnings: uneven power dynamic, abuse of position, reader is given multiple outs aka consent, unprotected sex, public/risky sex

By expanding you are agreeing to viewing adult content and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI

Rules & Main Links

Whispers have been echoing around you since you arrived at work this morning, early but not so bright at a severe three in the morning.

"Have you seen next week's schedule?"

"I haven't had a day off in three weeks."

"At least you don't have four back to back doubles. I've done nothing but work and sleep for god knows how—"

"Ma'am!" The youngest nurse in the lineup, Sachi you think, pops up from her seat after catching sight of you frowning at your boards. You turn to see her pacing towards you and grimace.

You had seen the schedules too and were feeling the drain the same as everyone else. A few staff members from your department had been transferred last month with no replacements in sight.

"Can you please talk to Dr. Ishida," she all but begs you, her voice carrying enough to draw some of the other nurses towards you, their expressions taking on a hopeful outlook. "If anyone can convince him to hire more nurses it would be you."

Too late to escape, you try to ready a smile as the other nurses chorus at you, anxiety climbing.

"He always listens to you! It's probably because you're so good at your job."

"Yeah, I couldn't even get him to order new pens."

"He's so curt with everyone else."

"It wouldn't hurt to try, right?" Sachi throws on her best puppy eyes for good measure and you feel your willpower splinter. "Worst he could say is no?"

"Fine," you sigh, the pulsing of a new headache sounding like the last nails in your coffin. "I'll ask him after my shift today; he's got surgeries for most of the afternoon and a consultation in the evening."

Everyone relaxes measurably, breaking off one by one to get back to their duties and thanking you in hushed tones as the man in question appears around the corner.

Dr. Ishida Ryuuken barely gives you a cursory glance before breezing right past and you stiffen, making a show of studying the papers in your hand until he's gone.

It's right to feel intimidated; tall and fit with vibrant snowy hair and a sharp jawline, he's incredibly handsome, barely looking a day over thirty despite having a teenage son. Quiet and icily strict, he’s a talented and sought after doctor despite losing his wife all those years ago. You could hardly imagine a man as cutting as him to even have had a wife, but you've never married so you guess you don't understand what it's like to lose a partner.

"Wouldn't hurt him to be nicer though." You rub your eyes, mumbling the words under your breath before glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one heard you.

It’s a long day, like always. The work is hard, but in the end it’s good work. Infected stitches, bed sores, endless looping conversations with worried patients… someone has to do it, right?

You’re standing in the nurses bathroom exhausted, starving, and making a small attempt to wash some of the day’s grime away while you work up the nerve to go back upstairs to your department head’s office. This is honestly the last thing you wanted to do today, but you’ve been here longer than the rookies who swarmed you this morning, and honestly? They’re right. If they tried to talk to Dr. Ishida, he would have sent them running with their tails between their legs. You, on the other hand, have a little more backbone than that.

Feet still sore from the day you take the elevator up, thankful to find it empty and silent, and make your way down the familiar path to his office. You pause outside the door at the sound of muffled voices coming through the door. You check your watch. It’s nearly eight; you thought he’d be done with his consultation by now. There’s no way it would have run this long. Listening intently you try to make out the words.

“Sir, it’s the board of directors again. They’re trying to schedule—”

“Tell them I’m not here.”

“They’re not going to believe that.”

There’s a beat of silence and you can almost feel the undoubtedly stormy glare roiling behind his glasses.

“Then tell them to contact me during my operating hours. I’m off duty. They can leave a message like everyone else.”

“Sir, it’s the board.”

There’s more silence, and you step back from the door quickly when you realize their conversation is over, trying to appear unassuming.

Ishida’s haggard looking aid doesn’t spare you a glance as they leave, and suddenly you feel less pessimistic about your own job.

The door is ajar so you tap your knuckles on the door, peeking in.

Dr. Ishida looks up from his desk, eyes still sharp, but some of the severity dissipates as he realizes it’s you.

“What is it this time?” He goes back to the papers on his desk. He’s aloof, bored, but with no direct dismissal you gather your nerves to do what you came for. You leave the door open to make the point that this won't take long.

“The nurses are still having a hard time since the transfers finalized,” you start, haltingly.

There’s several long moments of silence and for a moment you think he’s going to ignore you indefinitely before he looks up, raising an eyebrow at you.

“And?”

The dry expectancy of his tone has heat rising beneath your collar, but you grit your teeth and work up your customer service smile from the days you worked retail to put yourself through nursing school. You never thought that experience would actually be useful, but here you are.

“Well, I understand how important your time is, sir, but we were hoping you might take some time out of your busy schedule to hire some additional staff to help balance the workload.”

As much as you try, there’s no curbing the biting undercurrent to your words. You’ve been in this position too many times to not be tired of it, and today you really just want to go home.

The good doctor turns his chair to face you, and his now piercing stare is enough to whittle away at your faltering confidence shakily propped up by indignance. You find your feet shifting as you try to ease your discomfort as he looks you over.

When he doesn’t say anything you’re getting ready to turn and stalk out of his office, but he finally speaks.

His voice is smooth now, nonchalant. “How important is this?”

“It would really help, sir,” you sigh, meek and defeated as he moves his chair a few feet back from his desk, the wheels giving a light squeak as they catch on the carpet. He leans back in it, crossing his arms. There’s an intensity in his eyes now that's different, an unspoken dare.

“Then you know what to do.”

There's that moment of resistance, there always is, where you simply maintain his stare with the blankest expression you can manage. But you inevitably crumble.

With a silent sigh, you reach for the hem of your scrubs and pull the colored pattern over your head. You're reaching for your bra when you pause, remembering the door is still open.

Your hands drop and you're turning when Dr. Ishida's voice quietly rumbles across the room.

"Leave it." You glare at him and he stares back, immovable. "Unless you're done here?"

There it is, your best chance at walking out. Ignoring his bait you swallow your biting retort and unhook your bra, heat rising beneath your skin as he eyes your exposed tits, already hard from the scrutiny. You don't give him much more time than that, kicking out of your shoes and shoving your scrub bottoms off before coming around the edge of his desk.

You're left in nothing but a simple pair of gray cotton panties. Trying to hide your nerves, you lay yourself over his desk, nipples tightening painfully against the cold wood, hips raised and jutted out, displaying your ass for him.

You inhale slowly as he trails his hand up your outer thigh, skimming over the curve of your ass with such a gentle touch that it’s almost too sensitive. It makes you want to shy away, but you know that would only displease him, so you bite your inner cheek and steel yourself.

“Laundry day?” Ryuuken hums idly, sliding a finger in the band curving your left cheek and letting it go with a soft snap.

“With respect, fuck you, sir,” you sigh wearily, not in the mood for his brand of teasing today.

There’s a single note chuckle behind you, and you hate the way it sears against your skin like a brand, goosebumps rising down your spine in anticipation as you feel him move closer behind you. Instinctively you raise yourself to the balls of your feet as you feel his erection against your ass.

“Good girl.”

He’s amused now and you want nothing more than to hiss at him like a disgruntled cat, but your anxious eyes keep flickering to the open door, the risk of someone walking past keeping you silent.

Ryuuken rolls his hips into your ass a few times and smoothes a palm up your back, apparently content with taking his time.

“Will you hurry up?” you finally hiss, shuddering as his fingers make a third pass up and down your spine. You can feel the uncomfortable wetness growing between your thighs, the damp patch against your entrance sticking to your pussy.

His hand immediately wraps around the back of your neck, effectively scruffing you, and you can’t help but let out a little squeak of surprise. He presses more tightly against you, leaning down to put his lips by your ear.

“Be quiet or get out,” Ryuuken murmurs, soft and dangerous, but the apparent lust roughening his tone is like little sparks bursting in your gut. You go limp, resigning yourself to his petting, arousal building like bubbling pressure in a coffee machine.

You’re a hot flustered mess by the time you hear the clink of his belt, and you can’t help the tiny moan of approval as he finally tugs down your panties. The ache between your thighs has you biting every ounce of self restraint to keep your hips from arching towards him, letting him press on the small of your back and bump your feet into his preferred position like you wouldn’t have done it yourself given the chance.

A mewl is on the tip of your tongue, half choked as you chew your lower lip, at the feel of his fingers swiping through the slick you’ve accumulated. It receives a low hum of approval before his fingers are replaced with the blunt tip of his cock.

There’s a fog swirling over your mind. You can’t remember hearing the sound of a condom, but the heat and warmth of him slowly sinking into you is enough to send any worries of that flying from your mind. Your knuckles are white on the edge of the desk as you chew on a whine; his girth is something you’ve always reluctantly referred to as perfect, just enough to leave you full without making you grit at any pain, but his length always has you holding your breath because it never seems to end. He gives a little sigh behind you that has your mind fill with fluff, crackles of electricity sparking like exposed wires through your nerves.

“Breathe,” Ryuuken instructs calmly, and you hiccup, drawing in air like you just remembered how. “Again.”

There’s tears threatening your lashline as he stills, and you want to growl and posture at this stupid, sexy, rude as hell doctor being kind enough to give you time to adjust, but the alternative isn’t worth it. Knowing him, he’d rub it rather smugly in your face just how much you’re dripping all over him. So you sniffle instead, and tip your hips up just a little more, moaning in your throat as it has him pressing tighter against the front wall of your pussy.

One of his hands is stroking over the fat of your ass almost absentmindedly, as your pussy ripples around him at random, finally growing impatient for more stimulation. As if sensing your frustration, his grip moves to your waist and you curl a forearm under your cheek, ready to muffle any sounds if you need to.

His thrusts are quick and dirty right from the start, and your teeth are making divots in your arm before you know it. You get the sense that you’re not the only one stressed from today’s workload; it’s as if he’s trying to slam every ounce of pent up frustration out through your cunt. The unbreaking pace is mind-numbing and your eyes glaze over as he strikes deep in your core.

Ryuuken’s grunts are quiet but they bathe over your ears, causing your pussy to squeeze down on him, and the hand supporting the brunt of his force flashes back to grab his wrist as you feel pleasure curl so close to the surface that you’re sure you’d crumble if it didn’t peak. He shakes his hand out of your grip and you almost sob, but he’s tugging your hips back further off the desk and reaching under you, the tips of his fingers brushing over your clit and your whole body locks up as your orgasm rips through you.

His breathed curse falls on deaf ears as you ride out the blissful storm, extended by the way he savagely pulls you back on his cock, jerking into you unevenly, frantically, and you taste iron and salt as he sinks deep and grinds.

He’s still for a moment, breathing hard before his cock slips out of your cunt, and you feel warmth spilling down your thighs. One of these days you’ll have half a mind left to pay attention when Dr. Ishida Ryuuken loses his composure, but you’re too preoccupied with riding out the final aftershocks as he straightens his clothes behind you and smoothes his hair down.

Only then does he slide your panties back up your legs, making sure they’re firmly in place. There’s the soft sound of rustling fabric and finally your awareness rouses. You raise your head to see the office door closed, and your discarded scrubs sitting on the corner of his desk.

Ryuuken watches you silently as you redress, offering no words, and you don't need them. You've been here before; you did what you came for, and he got what he wanted. Words weren’t necessary. Words complicate things.

He opens the door for you as you slip on your shoes. “Until next time.”

Something indescribable brightens inside you at Ryuuken’s words, and you give him a searing glare. In return you receive a small smirk, and he closes the door behind you with a light click.

As you walk down the hall, you tell yourself it’s only to gain favor with your employees, to help everyone out. That it’s altruism in its finest for you to pimp yourself out to the head of the department. That it has absolutely nothing to do with how well he fucks you and sends you on your way with shaking legs and a dripping cunt. Absolutely nothing at all.

Sachi is sitting at the nurse's station when you get down there, and you belatedly realize she was one of the nurses working double today.

“Oh, your arm!” She gasps, peeling out of her seat and dashing for the first aid cart. “I hate it when patients bite.”

You look down to see the mark on your arm; it’s bleeding, barely, but the crescent shape is like a ghostly reminder of his smile right before he closed the door in your face, and your heart jumps against your wishes.

Your glare returns in earnest.

Damn him.

#ishida ryuuken x reader #bleach x reader #bleach smut #bleach oneshot #ishida ryuuken #wditdcollab☾

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karatekels · 3 months

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TIGmas Day #9 – Mediation

This fic is dedicated to @thedeadsingforme, and will be posted in at least a few parts (currently 8!) because I got carried away (you’ll likely understand why as soon as you read the summary). This one is going to be interesting, and while it’s a bit of a stretch (more like not compliant with the canon of either movie), I think it’s in a fun (or at least kinky!) way. Hope you all enjoy!

Summary: You are assigned as Terry McCain’s new partner after his previous partner – Cash Ewing – goes to prison for the crimes he has committed. Cash returns to Chicago years later, after his release and rehabilitation, and while he can’t be a cop anymore, he wants to make amends to those he has disappointed with his actions, most of all his former close friend Terry. Terry isn’t receptive to Cash’s attempts at reconciliation, and warns you to stay away from him, having grown very protective of his “work wife.” But you find something of a kindred spirit in Cash and want to help him get a second chance at life, deciding to do what you can to support the man and bring the two friends back together.

Pairings: Reader x Terry; Reader x Cash; … Terry x Reader x Cash

TW (For the whole fic, not necessarily in every chapter): Deception, stalking, sketchy police business, references to crime, flirting, teasing, dirty talk, M/F sex of all kinds (no M/M though)

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Mediation

Prologue: Acclimation

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- 1991 -

Terry's POV:

“No. Absolutely not.”

“That’s funny, McCain – I don’t recall asking if you were okay with it.”

“I don’t work with a partner. Not anymore, you know that. I can work with Dylan and Frankie if I have to, but –”

“How many different ways do I have to tell you this is non-negotiable before it gets through that thick skull of yours?” Captain McLaren bellows, spittle flying past his bushy moustache.

“Do I or do I not get the job done on my own?” Terry asks flatly, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

“That’s not the point, McCain. It’s departmental policy to work in pairs; keeps officers safe, and keeps them from stepping out of line, being rougher with suspects than they need to be,” McLaren replies, his voice think with implications.

Alright, so maybe he had been a little excessive with his use of force lately when handling perps, but so what? He was trying to clean up the city. And it wasn’t as if these people didn’t deserve it; they were criminals, they all did.

“I’d rather take things on alone than have to worry about someone stabbing me in the back instead of watching it.”

McLaren sighs deeply, looking across his desk at him with a weary expression, and Terry stiffens. He was not going to tolerate another unwanted, fatherly discussion about his last partner.

“Officer Y/N has a spotless record –”

“Anyone can be crooked, Captain.”

“Y/N is fresh out of the academy, McCain – no opportunity to go crooked yet. You could make sure she stays that way.”

Terry gets out of the chair, angrily shoving it back into place, his large hands gripping the back of it tightly as he stares down at the older man with a furious expression.

“A rookie?!” he snarls incredulously. “You want me to be a fucking babysitter? Why are you punishing me?”

“Maybe because you’re having a tantrum in front of your superior officer.”

Terry whirls around, having not heard the door to the Captain’s office open; who the fuck had the nerve to talk down to him like this? He lowers his gaze to look down at the short woman standing at the door.

Your arms are crossed and you have an unimpressed expression on your face as you look up at him. His temper is somewhat quelled, and he feels his cheeks heat in embarrassment – his mother would have his head if she knew that he had spoken disrespectfully about a woman, rookie or not.

Terry opens his mouth to speak, but you look past him to the Captain. “I apologize for the behaviour of my partner, Captain McLaren. Hopefully we can settle into our new roles quickly and get to work with fewer disruptions,” you say, your tone cold as you glare daggers up at Terry. Before he can get an apology in, you’ve whirled around, leaving the office and closing the door behind you. Through the blinds of the office windows he sees you take a seat at your assigned desk, right next to his.

A low chuckle from behind him makes him turn around to face the other man.

“What?” he snaps, irritated once more.

“Devlin said he thought L/N might be able to keep you in line. Looks like he was right,” McLaren explains, still laughing.

“So, what? Now I need a babysitter?”

“Don’t be an idiot, McCain – no one is babysitting anyone. You’re partners, you take care of each other. It hasn’t been that long, you still remember how it works, right?”

“Yes.” He gives the answer reluctantly, through gritted teeth. Looks like he wouldn’t be able to get out of this.

“Good. Now go play nice with Officer L/N – I don’t want to hear any complaints about your conduct, understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Looks like she’s rubbing off on you already. Dismissed!”

Biting his tongue instead of responding, he turns and exits the office, resisting the urge to slam the door behind him. Lashing out at McLaren for enforcing a rule wouldn’t change anything, and he supposes that taking out his frustrations on you wasn’t fair either.

He hesitates as he approaches the workstation you two will be sharing, staring at your back. No one had sat at that desk for months; no one had dared to. Seeing you there, taking the place intentionally left empty fills him with trepidation. Would you screw him over too? Show your true colours, abandon him, make him feel like –

“What the hell are you staring at, McCain?” you bark, eyes narrowing suspiciously as you catch him staring. He swallows, trying to tamp down his temper as it threatens to flare up once again, and takes a deep breath.

“Look, I… I just wanted to apologize. It’s not that I have anything against y–”

“You know, the only thing worse than hearing you make assumptions about me before we even met would be you changing those assumptions just because I’m a woman,” you interrupt him crossly, closing the distance between the two of you to avoid raising your voice.

“I get that you don’t want to work with me, McCain – you’re a big, bad tough guy who’s too good for a partner. Well, guess what? I don’t really have any interest in working with you either, no matter how good a cop everyone says you are. So why don’t we agree to just stay out of each other’s way and cut the crap?”

His nostrils flare; you really know how to push his buttons. He wonders what he could have possibly done to Lieutenant Devlin to make him seek revenge by partnering him up with you.

“Fine,” he seethes, scooping up his current open casefiles and looking for an empty interrogation room to work in instead.

---

Reader’s POV:

Your so-called partner Terry McCain had stormed off hours ago, presumably to sulk in solitude, and hadn’t returned since. That was just fine, in your opinion. You doubt he could teach you anything valuable anyway – you’d had enough experience dealing with whiny, temperamental man-children at the academy.

Still, this behaviour is just unprofessional, and certainly not a great start to your career as a police officer. You had overcome so much, earned the respect of your fellow trainees during your training by graduating at the top of your class, making them come to terms with their prejudices and recognizing that they had been wrong about you. You had landed your dream job, working at one of the busiest precincts in Chicago alongside one of its – apparently – finest detectives. But his reluctance to work with you has you feel like you’re starting your training all over again – down at the bottom of the totem pole, judged and looked down upon by all the men.

Your frustration with McCain fuels you throughout the day as you set up your and your computer, intermittently filling out paperwork as it is brought to your desk. You would not be scared off by the man’s childish antics.

The precinct is relatively empty, everyone out working cases or walking the beat, so you don’t feel guilty setting up your radio and turning the dial to your favourite jazz station, the music soothing your bad mood.

“You listen to WNUA?” The speaker’s voice is filled with surprise, and you turn, seeing that Terry has returned from his self-imposed exile.

“Yeah, is that a problem?” you ask, arching an eyebrow challengingly, but the tall man’s lips twitch in an almost-smile.

“Not at all, it’s actually my favourite radio station. I just never met another cop that liked smooth jazz,” he replies, his mouth giving in and stretching into a pleased smile that lights up his face.

“Well… good then,” you finish awkwardly, turning back to your desk. As you root around through the last few desk drawers you have to sort through, you hear him settling in at his own desk behind you, and bite the inside of your cheek. Perhaps there was hope for an amicable partnership after all…

Taking a seat, you sift through the papers, seeing if there was anything you needed to keep. A lot of the documents seem to belong to the same officer, someone named Cash Ewing. Could this have been Terry’s previous partner?

“Did you used to work with someone named Cash Ewing?” you ask, frowning at the thick stack of papers that belong to the man. “He left a lot of random crap in his desk…”

You lower the documents after a moment to see why he hasn't responded and see that Terry has stiffened in his chair, his jaw clenched shut as he glares off into the distance. After a stretch of silence his eyes flit over to you.

“He’s no one. He got fired. I can take those for you,” he says tersely in a hoarse voice, standing up and taking the papers out of your hands, walking out of sight before you can protest. You look after him, your brow furrowed, wondering at what had happened between Terry and this other cop to have him so angry.

Everything within you wants to ask Terry – ask anyone – about what exactly went on with Cash Ewing. You were the type of person that hated an unsolved mystery, possibilities swirling through your head as you try to put the pieces together.

But this man was meant to be your partner, and clearly didn’t want to discuss the topic. Swallowing your curiosity, and resolving to get to the bottom of things without him, you let the issue go for now.

Terry returns some time later without the documents and wordlessly retakes his seat beside you, typing up a report on his computer.

“Hey,” you say softly, trying to rekindle that brief spark of camaraderie you’d had before the subject of Cash had come up. Still, you watch Terry stiffen before he looks over at you with guarded eyes.

“What?” he asks, and you can tell that he’s bracing himself for the questions you desperately want to ask.

“Are there any good jazz clubs around here?” you ask, giving him a small smile. Terry’s shoulders sag slightly in relief at the change in topic, and his gaze is filled with warmth as he looks at you now, returning your smile.

“My friend Jake owns the best in town.”

---

[Future parts will be added here!]

#Thomas Ian Griffith #Cash #Cash Ewing #Black Friday #Black Friday 2007 #The Kidnapping #The Kidnapping 2007 #Terry McCain #Excessive Force #TIGmas #12 Days of TIGmas #Smut #Romance #Suspend your disbelief please and thank you #Cash x Reader #terry mccain x reader #terry mccain x reader x cash

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hoffmanstits-enjoyer · 7 months

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Okay, listen. Just gimme a second here on the whys of William Schenk's introduced persona(enormous case building for a headcanon incoming, be warned!).

We could go on and on about the reason of why William decided to present himself as a married man; in the context of evoking a sense of companionship, there's something to be said about the social pressures and the status of being married. Zeke's quick to talk about what being married means to a cop after all— although it's also curious that he presents himself as happily married, a dedicated father while Zeke himself's going through custody fights and a divorce.

It does make me think of what William wants Zeke to understand about him, ready for serious commitment and sharing responsabilities, he's willing to put in the work so to speak. There's a softer, loving and protective side of him — one he hasn't shared with many ever since his father's death, I bet — that he'll gladly show Zeke(and we only see him talk about his fake family with him).

But that's not enough of a motive, so let's go for the angle of what marriage represents.

Marriage's not just a symbolic, romantic act but the union of two citizens, both Zeke and William giving the impression during Spiral that they do perceive it as something that's supposed to be a conscious choice you make that has value, it's worth it; William could've presented himself as married then not just to show that he's 100% for loyalty and commitment but also that he's not that kid Zeke backstabbed Dunleavy for anymore.

He's not William Emmerson and he doesn't need Zeke to protect him or confuse the child he was to the man he is now(which adds another layer to his relishing of Zeke's anger and acceptance of each blow, the rawness of the moment leaves nothing to interpretation, they are in EQUAL standing—); he's evolved since their last time together. Zeke, none the wiser, eases his worries slightly when dismissing William's comment:

"Hey, man, I get it. I wouldn't want to be stuck with a kid either."

[Zeke stops to really look at him.]

"You don't want to be my partner."

Which he says after probably hearing Zeke's commentary(they weren't really trying to be quiet in there) on showing the ropes to a rookie, saying he doesn't want to be a 'nanny'. A subtle poke to Zeke's apparent expectations of him— testing the waters as if to see how much of a problem this will be. It's not about age though, or really about William in itself(as I've theorized in another post) and William proves himself valuable in the little time they have, as evidenced by Zeke's own words.

"Hey, William. Good work today."

There's the 'easiest assumption' that William really just used it as a disguise for the tattoo of his father's name but there's no logical need for a loving wife there. Or a son for that matter— he could've tattooed the name of a sibling Zeke would vaguely hear about or a nephew; it would still hold the weight of someone that William supposedly goes back to when leaving the job, give Zeke a burden to carry in terms of thinking of a young detective with a family that he couldn't save.

So. It makes me think, that perhaps William just holds in himself so much hope for what they can be. So much faith in their connection, there's no one else for him but Zeke and he has known this for years. William's cunning and confident, he doesn't lie to himself about what he knows to be true but there lies an issue— well, isn't it him insisting Zeke's unfortunate predicament isn't an universal truth of life?

[Chuckles] "Just because you’re getting a divorce, it doesn’t mean that everyone else’s marriages have to end, too."

Which roughly matches their earlier talk, when he interjects Zeke's bitter perspective on it:

"'While it lasts'?"

"Nothing happier than the wife of a new detective, nothing more angry than that same bitch ten years later."

"Maybe it’s ’cause you call them bitches."

The same way William's invested in taking Zeke by his shoulders and shoving him out of his defeated attitude towards the corruption in the system and guiding him to action, he's also prodding at Zeke's waning faith in partnership. It's not because his marriage didn't last that Zeke's never going to find the one person capable of staying loyal to him to the end... that he won't realize what he needs is right in front of him.

William's hopeful, obsessively devoted and has specifically planned his killing spree with luring Zeke, having him by his side, in mind… so, if he presents himself as a married man? If his and Zeke's hands rest close together on the table in whatever place they'd stopped for lunch or at Zeke's desk, when they squeeze next to each other to watch the spiral killer's tape, and their golden bands look just about similar enough to be a pair… it's just bound to be.

#yes. i AM delusional. no i aint stopping #spreading the 'william is a romantic when it comes to zeke' agenda bc i firmly believe it and have no shame <3 #william schenk #ezekiel banks #spiralshipping #spiral from the book of saw #saw franchise #spiralposting #sawposting

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isfjmel-phleg · 4 months

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While researching Ray, I read (most of) Justice League Task Force, which introduced me to a teammate of his whom I was curious enough about to read everything about.

Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to the man who founded the Justice League. It's not who you might think.

...and he's kind of The Worst.

It starts with eight-year-old Will MacIntyre, who has just figured out that his father is a supervillain. Which accounts for a lot. Their family is constantly on the run, Will's mother is perpetually worried, and Will has given up on making friends--no point when every relationship must come to an abrupt end every few weeks. So he's an oddly detached, stoic child, caught up in his own head and full of silent resentment. He doesn't say a word or show any emotion when his father is finally arrested (by Golden Age hero Hourman, of all people) and leaves him with words he'll never forget: "Don't ever be like me, Billy Mac. Ever." Later, Will gets a visit from Hourman, who reinforces this idea; he has a choice of what kind of person he wants to be. And Will decides he wants to be a hero.

Actually, Will's father wasn't a supervillain. He was a small-time henchman. He wasn't cruel to his wife. And Hourman isn't quite worthy of the pedestal that Will puts him on. But this will be a running theme for Will: he develops perceptions of his world that aren't quite the truth and clings to them.

He develops superpowers at puberty--the ability to control electromagnetism. His senses are heightened, he can absorb and project energy, he can manipulate gravity, he can mimic flight and use electromagnetic fields to make himself seem invulnerable--as long as he's consciously thinking about it. So with these new powers, he devotes his life to reinventing himself. He studies science and martial arts and criminology, undergoes physical training obsessively, deliberately isolates himself and neglects his social life. He has a girlfriend at one point, but she dumps him because he's too wrapped up in projects he won't share with her to bother with her.

By the time he's twenty-one, he's a model Silver Age hero: tall, muscular, handsome, powerful, brilliant, and he knows it. He calls himself Triumph.

He then proceeds to found the Justice League. He's joined by some up-and-coming rookie heroes. The Flash. Green Lantern. Aquaman. Martian Manhunter. Black Canary. Superman. Their first mission together is rather rough. Triumph is exasperated with his inexperienced team's inability to keep up with his orders and his grand plans, and some of them take issue with his arrogance. He's very different from, say, Superman, who is notably humble and unassuming; Triumph is Always Right, always several steps ahead of everyone else, and thus is entitled to lead. And he does manage to save the day.

Unfortunately, what he does sends him out of the timestream. When he finally escapes, he hasn't aged a day past twenty-one, but ten years have gone by on earth, most of his JLA team have died or dramatically progressed in their careers, and not a single soul knows or remembers him. He got erased from history for a decade. He returns expecting to resume his former position of prestige without question, but the current heroes view him with suspicion, and fights break out. He manages to prove himself and comes to realize that he needs to work on improving his people skills if he's ever to get anywhere.

To his dismay, where he ends up is the Justice League Task Force, the team for younger, less experienced JLA members, led by Martian Manhunter (J'onn J'onzz). Will remembers J'onn as a peer, someone he used to give orders to, and he's annoyed at being in a subordinate position to him now, but he tries his best to fit in with the team. He starts to connect with Ray Terrill, who's just a couple years younger than him, in particular. Most of their relationship consists of exchanging insults, but they do develop a fondness for each other.

However, adjusting to a world that's gone on without him for ten years is difficult for Will. Grad schools reject his applications because his transcripts are out of date and he lacks the experience they require. He tries to reconnect with his old girlfriend, not to rekindle anything (given what the writer of these stories has said about his intentions for Will's sexuality, the relationship was probably just for appearances anyway) but because he feels he owes her closure. She's in a successful career now and doesn't recognize him (he looks like Will but he's ten years too young to be him!), and he can't bring himself to tell her the truth about himself. But he does find out that his investing in a home shopping TV channel ten years ago (remember, this is the 1990s) has since made him fabulously rich, so he now has the funds to further his career.

His efforts to be Nice and Cooperative don't last long. He clashes with J'onn a lot, questions him, refuses to follow orders. Why should he? He founded the Justice League! He should be leading. So he goes out and buys himself a new team on the side, a group of people devoted to avenging victims of violence. They engage in various Mission: Impossible-esque shenanigans, including Will's insistence on going after his father, newly escaped from prison. His refusal to open up to his team about the reason for this mission, or anything about his personal life, causes some problems. He has to confront his past, but he ends up getting his back broken in a fight and is left alone with no real closure in his relationship with his father.

He doesn't seek medical treatment for his back, just uses his powers to take the pressure off his spine as long as he's awake and can access the electromagnetic field. He doesn't tell his Task Force team about this injury. He refuses to help a desperate Ray who comes to him for assistance with an increasingly severe problem, and as a result alienates his friend from not only himself but the whole team. Triumph has a strategic reason for doing this, but treating his friend like a chess piece backfires. J'onn is not happy and proceeds to first fight and then fire Triumph.

Will refuses to take responsibility for this outcome. It's J'onn's fault that he isn't getting the respect he deserves. With no more team now, he tries to reach out to Ray but gets brushed off. So Triumph doesn't have much left. Lots of money, a broken back that privately causes him horrible pain, damaged relationships with the closest things to friends he's ever had, ten years of his life missing, and no more future with the team he founded. And this is where the demon Neron approaches him with an offer. Those ten years of his life back, in exchange for his soul. He gives Will a candle to light whenever he's ready to seal the deal.

Will agonizes over this choice. He knows he shouldn't, but the power and prestige that he believes is his destiny, his just due, is awfully tempting, and he keeps the candle ready in reserve.

Nevertheless, at Christmas, he turns up unexpectedly at a JLA party, apologizes to J'onn, and tries to make amends. J'onn forgives him, and everything seems fine again--until it comes out that forgiveness doesn't mean restoration to the team. Triumph's pride is once again insulted, and he blows up at everyone and leaves in a huff. Once alone, he's angry at himself for this failure to control himself and is ready to light that candle and start over. One of his Task Force teammates tries to convince him that he's really a good person, because he saved her life once. He counters that he did it because it wouldn't have looked good not to do, but eventually he comes to realize that that act was worthwhile, that his relationships with his friends are something he wouldn't want to give up. He's able to reconcile with them, including Ray, and he decides to abandon the candle and go back to J'onn for another apology.

Just as he's doing this, elsewhere his friends find the candle, mistake it for something else, and light it.

The timeline is reset.

Triumph is ten years older. No one on the JLA remembers him. They're having that party without him. The teammate whose life he saved is still alive even without his having been there. He apparently left no impact at all.

He walks away into the snow, just as the friends he lost are singing "Auld Lang Syne."

That was where his original writer left him, but years later another writer brought him back, soulless and evil, driven by sheer envy, trying to take over the JLA. They take him down by freezing him and keeping him stored away in the trophy room, along with a sign declaring him the founder of the Justice League. He is inadvertently killed some time later when the Watchtower is destroyed.

Not really a necessary coda for him--the story was tragic enough leaving him alone again with the consequences of his pride. But the character was highly unpopular with readers, and thoroughly villainizing him and removing him from the picture must have seemed like the thing to do.

There's really not a lot of material for this character. His solo wasn't very well-executed--tried to do too much with too little space. But writer Christopher Priest has a fascinating analysis that delves into what he had in mind, even though apparently it didn't go down well with a lot of readers, and what he had hoped to explore in Triumph's solo, and that's what caught my attention the most.

Will is so intent on building himself into a hero that he neglects to cultivate what would truly make him one: his humanity. He's so concerned with appearances that there's almost nothing sincere left in him. He's so caught up in his own cleverness and sense of personal destiny (glorious purpose?) that he can't see the people around him as anything other than pawns for him to maneuver. He's so afraid of feeling hurt and powerless again that he won't let anyone in, and it invariably ends with him alone. He knows just what a jerk he is, and he wants to change, but not enough to actually do it and stick to it. The lies he's told himself for so long are too much a part of him to give up. And just when he's finally making a breakthrough and realizing that human connection is worth the existence he considers humiliating--the consequences of his pride and its weakness catch up to him. The original end of his story reads a bit like a chilling reverse-It's a Wonderful Life in which he has to realize how little his existence has meant to anyone. He has gotten his wish, he has become what he has been crafting himself into nearly his whole life...and lost his soul, in every possible sense.

It could have been so different. But he wouldn't let it.

I've been rotating this story in my head all week now.

#comicsposting again #WM: broken bitter and alone #I've finally found a character so obscure that the current fandom apparently still hasn't discovered him #and quite frankly I'm okay with that #also: even though things end with Ray unable to remember Will the impact does remain #the dynamics Ray has with YJ make more sense in light of how he and Will used to interact #and unfortunately Ray takes on something of Will's attitude toward him in his interactions with Bart #and then there's the storyline from Ray's solo about a possible future in which he and Will and Bart as adults are friends of a sort #but that's a whole nother story

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itspdameronthings · 7 days

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Benny the Rookie Cop Pt2

Summary:I know this part is intense. First part is anyway. It deals with Santi going off the deep end. Sorry about that. Fear not! there is a sweet Benny and Grace moment at the end which im gonna write another fic . More like an extended scene.

Meanwhile a few blocks away sounds of restlessness fills Santi’s home. He is on the floor with a bottle of his favorite whiskey. Drinking the numbness he feels. Life hasn't been good for him. Latest relationship has ended. That really hurt him to no end. Thought she was the one. After two years together things were on the up and up till something happened. Coming home to see her stuff was missing. All that remained was a dear John letter. No explanation,but she can't deal with his manic episodes. Then… his baby sister getting married to his best friend. He should be happy for them. Welcome Benny into the family. Resentment fueled his mind. Goal is for others to be shitty.

He hasn't been to work for days. Will was beyond worried. Calls and texts were unanswered. On this night he goes over to see if Santi was okay. Letting himself in with a spare key looking around how messy the place was. Dishes in the sink smells of booze fills the air. Clothes on the floor. Caused Will to go upstairs to see his friend on the floor only wearing a pair of ratted green sweats. No shirt. Unkempt hair ,and matted beard. Kneels down,” Care to explain why you haven't called me?! Was worried that something happened! Had to postpone our presentation to next month! Our ass is on the line?! Gonna lose our important client ?! Are you gonna say anything?!” Santi looks at him whipping his mouth,"Of course I care,but not right now. Leave me to wallow in my misery. Too sick to care about shit. Now leave me alone! Go back to your happy home!” Looks like Will isn't getting through him. Think he needs some help. Thought about calling Frankie,but he is on vacation with his daughter. Benny hates to call him knowing he just got off from work. Taking a breath got out his phone:

Older brother: look bro, hate to do this,but I need your help. At Pope’s he is in a drunken mess.

Sound of a phone going off caused Benny to slowly wake up from sleeping with his beautiful wife. Can't stop holding onto her. Rubbing his eyes. Looking at the message,” Shit! Not again!” Tried not to wake Gracie slowly got up to get dressed, sudden movement stopped him. Small hands on his shoulders stopped him . Soft voice fills the room,” What's wrong baby? Another bad dream? If it is? Let me help.” Taking a breath,” Your brother is drunk yet again. Gonna go to help Will. Wantcha to stay home okay? Can't have my rose hurt. Need ya to keep my side of the bed warm and toasty. “ Gracie not listening. Still wrapped in the bedsheet. Goes to get dressed,” Think I can help too. We are family, remember? “ Benny goes over to her now naked form. Hugs her from behind,” I know darlin. Just trust me okay? Let me and Will handle it. If we need help? I'll call. “ Gracie closed her eyes. Knowing he might be right. Sure both of them had training in dealing with this kind of behavior. This is her brother. Might not have seen Santi like that. Oh the boys have. Soon as her husband leaves. She goes to her nightstand to fetch her phone. Calls someone who delt with this before. Her mother.

Benny arrives at Santi’s . Noise of shouting caught his attention. Sounds of things hitting a wall. Rushed upstairs to see both Santi and Will yelling. Sees a broken bottle on the floor. Goes over to break up the fight. Goes between them,” Enough! Stand fucking down!” Santi not hearing this. Goes to push Benny away from him,” oh look is here! Person who stole my sister away from me! Ordering me around my own place! Why don't you both go home !”Looking into his brother in law in the eye. Not moving,” Not a chance man. You're endangering yourself ya know that?! Need help! Not leaving so tell us what's wrong.” Santi grunts,” Nothing ,and I mean nothing is wrong! Can a person be alone for a while?! That's all I fucking want!! Want to wallow okay?!” Now the plot thickens. Wallow. It's Will who figured it out. Leans against the wall in his signature pose. Arms crossed,” I know why. Chelsea. Left you in this state of misery. Furthermore? Resenting the fact Benny stole Gracie from you! Preposterous! Can't face that she is an adult. She loves you man. Problem is that can't someone else take over. “ Those words cut through Santi’s soul like a knife. Yes he is going through a lot. Feeling like the others never endure that kind of pain. Until he remembers Will went through the same thing. Now he feels like shit. Brothers sat next to him while he cried.

Rosa Garcia rushed inside her son's home. With Gracie in tow. Looking at the state the home is in. Brought back memories of her late husband. Brought tears to her eyes. Her son is going down the same path . She knew he was going through stuff,but never thought he would destroy himself in this kind of matter. Gracie stays downstairs to clean up. Rosa slowly approaches a bedroom to see her son,and her sons in law . Benny, first to see her, goes to hug her,” Mama, Glad you are here. Got him calm ,but.. with all of my trainin in this? Thought could get through him. “ Hugs him tightly,” It would be fine my baby boy. Go downstairs okay? Your rose is there cleaning up. Means you too William shoo!” Will kisses her forehead as he leaves. Santi whimpers,” I'm a bad son Mama! Don't know how I can overcome it…” Rubs her son’s back as he lays his head on her lap. Needs to feel safe right now. Rosie knows that as well. He needs help to cope. Whispers to her son,” I'm here baby boy. You know drinking your troubles away isn't gonna help. Either is being a complete boota to your sister,and husband. Can't you see it's hurting them? Getting dumped hurts I know. Been there honey. Tell you what. I'm gonna move in for a while.help you get through this. First thing first. Go downstairs to apologize to the young couple. Tomorrow? Taking you to counseling.”

Mother and son come downstairs to see his family cleaning up the living room. Gracie is first to see her mom and brother. Not looking at him she walks away. Not before Santi blocks her,” Look here G. I'm sorry. Okay? Never thought my anger hurt you the way it did. Was in a bad place. I'm glad you have Benny. I mean it. I'm afraid that I'm..” Reaching out to hug her brother. So does Benny. Hug him close. Rosa whispers to the young couple,” Go home. We got this. Family dinner is gonna be pushed back for a few days. You two have fun on your days off. Mama’s orders.” Santi watches from afar as his sister and brother in law hold each other close. Try not to fall apart. Will comes up to him placed his hand on his shoulder,” you will find one special man. First thing is to get ya well again. “ Santi takes a deep breath,” Thanks for coming by man.” Will chuckles again,” That's what family does man . We help.”

Young couple arrived home. Exhausted mentally and physically. Benny reached out to hold Gracie who practically held on to him. Breathed in his special scent,” Had to call mama. Had too. Hope you aren't mad.” Kissing her forehead ever so gently, he whispers,” I'm not. Glad ya did. Wasn't getting much lead way until Will figured it out. Now.. how about we go to bed. Hmm? Can cuddle, or watch some trashy show ya like.” Tracing patterns along his neck as he picks her in a bridal position,” I much rather have my rookie make love to me. Followed by some cuddling. Then.. we can stay in bed tomorrow since it's gonna rain.”

Once they get into bed. Benny holds her close to his warm body. Trace loving patterns along her arm. How he wanted to fully fill her first request. Sees her fast asleep in his arms. Making love is the first thing to do in the morning. Holds her close to him. Thinking about how he really needs to protect her even more. Yes, Santi has a long journey ahead. Feared he might have a relapse. Whispers into her ear,” Love you my Rose bud. With all of my heart. Make sure you are safe for what's to come. Pray for Pope’s recovery is a success.”

#triple frontier #benny miller x reader #santiago garcia x reader #garett hedlund #charlie hunnam #oscar isaac

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kamyru · 1 year

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Not a Demon (Daimon Togo x MC) (Scenario)

Summary: People are afraid of Togo "The Demon" Daimon and he knows it. He also knows for sure that no one is going to ask, but if someone does ask him when he has fallen in love with his wife, he has the perfect answer.

Word counting: 1000

Togo was sitting alone at the bar with a glass of orange juice in front of him. He let out a long sigh and continued to tell himself that he was putting up with all the drunkards from his company in such a perfect state of mind only because he was driving. He was already too old for a blackout in front of the people he would see for years ahead and too experienced to have the naivety to think that alcohol would make him forget his worries. Nuh-uh, that wasn't going to happen. Togo Daimon knew that the early 30s was too much to cure anxiety and overthinking with a wild night. Alcohol would make him even more anxious and show him new fields full of undiscovered thoughts.

The architect looked at the liquid and drank it in one gulp as if it wasn't simple orange juice. He exchanged a few glances with the barman.

"Your acidity will rise if you continue drinking plain orange juice," the young man said while pouring water into another glass. Togo rolled his eyes and pointed his thumb at his back without turning to his colleagues, who definitely wouldn't remember the night. At least, it was easier to imagine something alcoholic while looking at the water instead of the orange juice. So, the loop of convincing himself why he didn't touch anything alcoholic continued for the tenth time. However, it wasn't meant to get to the eleventh because a person appeared out of nowhere to bother his peace.

"You know, I think people are wrong," the person finally said in a very soft voice. For a second, the architect doubted that it was addressed to him. There was no way someone would voluntarily talk with him like this. However, when he turned towards the speaker, their eyes met. It was one of the newbies of the company that worked under him. What could he say about her aside from the fact that she was a hard-working newbie with big dreams? She irritated him from time to time with her rookie mistakes, but he tried his best not to show it, afraid to scare her naivety away. "I respect people from our company," she continued when she understood that she got his attention, "and those who named you," MC added barely audible, "but I still think they are wrong."

Togo Daimon turned his entire body towards the speaker. He couldn't smell any alcohol from her, but there was no way someone sober would talk to him like this. There was no way a sober subordinate would be talking willingly to him. So, his interest peaked.

"You're not a demon," the girl continued.

And for a second, Togo Daimon thought that the barman had poured pure alcohol into his glass. However, he checked the liquid and remembered that he hadn't touched it. Was there something in the orange juice?

"You're so kind, understanding, smart, and inspirational that at the beginning, you were the only reason I didn't give up. I cried every night, even if it was my dream to work here, but when I woke up, I knew that I'd see you at work, and it made me keep going. So, I don't understand why you got the nickname."

A tilt of pink colored MC's cheeks. Yet, she was smiling with the purest smile The Demon had seen in years. It made him want to protect this newbie. And right next to her cheek, something peaked Togo's attention. It was a strand of hair that tickled MC's temple. He wanted to put it away and clear his view of the girl's profile. But Togo Daimon couldn't do it. He knew her words triggered something inside him that wanted to make it. And Togo Daimon knew if he did it, the strand would trigger the will to kiss her. But he couldn't. What if she was drunk? He couldn't get so soft only because of a compliment, even if the woman in front of him was extremely pretty.

"You're not a demon. You're just Togo Daimon," the girl continued in such a whisper that the man felt the urge to get a reality check. His name was spoken in such a way by someone like her? There was no way, no way. Togo Daimon felt how all the alcohol the people around him had drank that night hit him. His face was burning, and he couldn't think straight. Moreover, he was sure he wouldn't walk straight either.

"Thank you for everything," MC continued and gave Togo something new - her brightest smile. Now he didn't want to kiss her lips: it would crush the priceless view. He wanted to hug her or kiss her forehead, to give her something as pure as her smile.

"MC!" another voice appeared out of nowhere and put Togo's thoughts in order. "Let's go home!"

The Demon was sure that the woman who yelled after the angel in front of him was drunk enough not to remember anything the next day.

"I'm sorry, I'm the destignated driver today," MC gave Daimon another of her smiles, but it looked more like her professional one. Togo clenched his teeth. He didn't want to be alone again. He didn't want to be without MC. So, he played on his impulses and caught her fragile wrist. When the girl looked at him as if they were at work and he asked her to make something the university didn't teach them, he had to think fast.

"You can't drive under the influence," The Demon mumbled.

"I have never touched anything stronger than a Cola today," the newbie chuckled and showed him the keys to her friend's car.

So, Togo Daimon let go of MC's hand, but that was when he understood that there was no way he would let go of her. Her smile and pure soul had to be protected. And if she trusted him enough to show them, it meant it was his duty.

#oops i said yes #togo daimon #voltage inc

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farfarawaygirl · 1 year

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The Rookie Recap - 5x07

In which I have many questions, several reactions, and get mildly confused. (Also, excuse my typos and formatting, I did this on mobile, and all I can say is sometimes it do be like that.) 🦀🥰😇

Celina and Bailey is the team up of my nightmares. Is anyone enjoying them? Is this an in demand dynamic? If you actually like them please leave me a comment explaining why! I am curious. If you don’t like them, please leave a comment telling me I have excellent taste. 🫣

I am not an astrological person, I respect those that are, but I feel like the show is not treating them kindly? Like, wrapping all mystics/Astro/etc etc believers up in a ball and saying Celina is all of them? These are separate things and really important to some people.

This Wesley/Elijah/Lopez/Grey business is a plot hole built on a dream, all based on us, the viewer, suddenly caring about the lack of continuity we have grown to embrace! Tim can be in the spin team for his wife’s drug deal, but Angela is not allowed to be on the takedown team for a man who is blackmailing her husband? Don’t make the rules messy and then break them. 😤

Elijah: I’m going to hit them where it hurts! I’ll accuse Lopez of using excessive force, and even worse, I’ll stop Wes from getting his *checks notes* cranberry scones.

A dead man is shot? 🧐 this is like an Agatha Christie novel.

Only Thorsen is looking out for this kid. I am shocked that anyone is doing this? Lucy? Nyla?

(Sidenote: the trailer for The Menu ran every break for me, and it looks genuinely like the marriage of a true thriller and gore, and I am equal parts scared and intrigued.)

Why is Bailey bringing all that house stuff to the station, in an episode where they have highlighted the need for separation of church and state why is this allowed? She moved in with none of her stuff? Has no one who works on this show been in a healthy relationship?

Do gangs just have block parties? This seems counterproductive to criminal life.

Lucy was in her feels when Tayvon was beat up - as she should be! Tim should apologize to Aaron, keeping him in was about Lucy’s career and Aaron calling him on it was interesting to see. (Is this maybe why Tim and Aaron are not riding together next week?)

That Mom was exactly the right kind of mad. Shame on that whole team for using him!

An interesting note on Lucy’s makeup for UC, they emphasized her Asian features and did something different with her under eyes. I would love to see the notes as to why. It is hard to guess the reasoning for that direction without explicit comment.

Now Elijah is there bring up Nolan? I don’t even remember if Nolan was on the raid. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Maybe I just wasn’t paying attention- but what does this biker take down have to do with… anything?

The man who was shot, was already stabbed, and was poisoned?

Vena was gorgeous. Too bad she’s a murderer! Do we need to be worried that Lucy has now made and blown like 3 covers in LA? How come Aaron is not recognized more?

If you have made it this far, here’s a quick tip: should you ever be arrested for a murder you did in fact commit, don’t give them a line like, “I was owed at least the life insurance.”

Aaron apologized to Tim? 🫠

If you were a criminal (Elijah) how would someone who worked for the DA saying you deserved a second chance be a win?

Does that ending mean there might actually be another plot line about John and Bailey fumbling towards the alter?

Very Chenford light.

I am rating this episode two birthday cake Oreo cookies out of four, because the points are made up and the rules don’t matter.

How are we feeling, party people?

#chenford #the rookie #Emma shouts into the void #the rookie spoilers #I wish I had a cartoon moustache to swirl a La evil villain but alas I am merely mortal #tim bradford #lucy chen #John Nolan #celina juarez

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jackiequick · 1 year

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Family Reunion | Top Gun Maverick Fic 📸

Audrey Davidson, Tom Kazansky and Pete Mitchell aka Maverick 💨, Iceman 🧊 and Sunset ⛅️

One of the platonic friendships with a long relationship, beyond the years of knowing each other

Mention of the Class of 86’

Kinda short fic

In 1986 a friendship began without a shadow of a doubt, during Top Gun. Sunset already was friends with Maverick and Goose way before Top Gun. Especially with her and Maverick dating a long time, and staying just friends later. But afterwards they met the rest of the 86’ crew, starting a tight unit between all of them. A rivalry between Iceman and Maverick became a longtime lasting friendship, and with Sunset and Iceman becoming closer after Goose’s death. Sunset became the glue that held the 3 of them together, on occasion.

Doesn’t matter how far apart they might seem, they became closer than ever over the years. Hanging out at bars, enjoying a family dinner, parties during the holidays, weekly or monthly calls between the trio and special surprise visits. Which leads us to present day, Maverick was already cooking up a storm with the Admirals after a stunt with the Darkstar project with cause Iceman to save his ass again for the 4th time in the last two months while Sunset filled out a idea for Iceman, a return to Top Gun. Yes, Maverick only stayed an instructor for a few weeks there in the late 80s but this time it would be needed. So Iceman and his daughter, Amber Kazansky, got to work with finding the top notch graduates for the team that Sunset, Audrey would soon title ‘The Daggers’.

Audrey was stationed out in Chicago as a field officer, even though her title was also Captain, teaching fresh faced pilots the basic rules of working together and having them in tip top shape. If not, she working on her personal hobbies of engineering work for fixing up the tail wings of planes or sending out millions dollar planes to be used for Top Gun rookies to learn in. This week, she got Wolfman and Sundown to cover for her as she decides to pay a visit to Ice in the North Island and see how Maverick was doing with the classes. Tom’s wife, Sarah, let her into the household as both woman talked before she sneaked her way down the hallway to the office.

Tom Kazansky had his back turned from the doorway looking at the plenty of framed photographs from over the years of family, friends, accompanied allies and his recorded stories taken place in each picture. He’s been working all day, hearing complains from Cyclone about Maverick’s work and dealing with meetings from other officials for the projects at hand.

He was glancing at a photograph of him, Maverick and Slider mid laugh at a work when he heard a female voice jokingly saying, “You know, you can just tell Mav how much you really care about him instead of looking at pictures frames of him? Then me and Slider won’t have to worry about your longing loving gaze any longer!”

There were a few chuckles and a smile in that voice that can brighten up a little bit of any day. He turned around chuckling and joked back, “You were betting on us? How much money?”

“50 bucks give or take.” She said shrug, playing to cool.

“50 bucks?! Come on, Pretty Mama, you can do better than that!” He yelled walking over to give the woman a hug using his nickname that he made for her, years ago as he hugged him back tightly.

“Shut it, old man! 50 bucks can buy me a decent amount of lunch, maybe even dinner at a restaurant.”

“Yeah, in your dreams probably! I missed you, I didn’t know you were flying back so early.”

“If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?”

“Amber got that from you, you know?”

“I know. I missed you and you need a break!”

“I’m perfectly fine, but I’m open to having fun lunch.”

“Great, my treat!”

The two headed off to the streets of North Land where a small diner near the beach was stated that held burgers and hotdogs along with fries on the side. The pair chatted up a storm discussing the plan for The Daggers, Audrey probably moving back to San Diego, California and how life as been going on general. They were laughing up a storm and retelling stories of their past together, even ones that happened over the last few weeks. Sarah called them a few times but neither one of them until they arrived back at the Kazansky household with her scolding them however she couldn’t stay mad at the pair for too long.

Over the next few weeks Audrey stayed at the Kazansky household working alongside Tom and the others, sharing the load of work with him and heading out to meetings and getting the detailed information from Amber on how everything was going so far for preparations. The moments and days Audrey had no work or breaks, she stayed texting Pete Maverick Mitchell, having a long text chain dating back to 2017 since the pair finally decided to change their phones, moving their database onto brand new phones for the exact year they are currently in. They are classic people with brand new technology, having kept IPhones 5s, IPhones 6s, IPhones 7s and others for years. Pete has teased the idea of Audrey coming down to the beach and watch the new crew, little did he know that she was already driving there and keeping on an eye on him. Since she visited The Hark Deck to keep an watch on Amber, JenPen, him and the new crew of pilots for the mission.

Audrey kept a low profile that she didn’t even let Penny know she was there expect for a few waves and winks from across the bar until day where she headed down to the beachside near the Hard Deck. Audrey packed her bag and decided to wear the coolest outfit she owned for the heat wave of the warm weather as she drove over and once she arrived, the girl heard call the shouts, laughter and smiles in everyone’s voice from a mile away. Audrey ran up the set to the patio where she saw the Dagger Squad grinning and laughing while music played loudly until she heard, “Drey!” She whipped her head around to notice Penny yelling out her name as both woman ran up to each other giving the biggest hug they can possibly master gushing and smiling.

Audrey smiled, “Penny?! Oh my god, the rumors are true!”

“Ha ha very funny! I missed you.” Penny yelled back taking a seat with her near the table, pouring her a glass of lemonade as well.

“Thank you. You shouldn’t be surprised that I’m here, I saw you at the bar days ago.”

“I know that! But still, how are things?”

“Things been fine, aside from work and traveling from different places.” Audrey smirked thinking about something, “What about you? I know Pete is in town!”

Penny blushes and chuckled waving her off, “Oh no, not you too! I still really like Pete and we planned on hanging out together later today.”

“Oooooh! Tell me more!”

“Shut up! How about you, miss single gal? Anyone catch your eye lately or…”

“Take my breath away? Nope! And I have no interest in that, I usually spend time with a guy for a weeks then off to my next destination.”

“I always thought you would’ve ended up with Tom…Slider or even Wolfman..?”

“I-um..Kazansky and I are just friends, yeah sure we had huge crushes on each other in the 80s but it uh, it wasn’t meant to be. Hell, I introduced him to his wife, Sarah, remember?”

“Oh yes I remember! You called Sarah over to meet him at the bar in 1989 but they didn’t date until 1991. But you should try going on the dating scene again.”

Audrey joked, “What? Try online dating with some stranger on the internet?”

“Yeah! I mean, meet some new guys online or speed dating on those restaurants. They are nice ideas!”

“No can do it, Penny! I’ll try and settle down when Pete does finally end up with you.”

“Oh god…”

“Yup! Tick tock we all know you still like each other..”

“Cause it’s true! We do, we are just waiting for the right moment.”

“And it will come sooner than you think.

As if on cue, Pete Maverick Mitchell saw both ladies grinning with pride waving at them before sitting down on the chair to watch his crew keep playing. The girls watched as well as they kept chatting. Suddenly Cyclone’s voice came ringing into her ears, she she whipped her head around to see him talking with Maverick who sat down. The men started having a small conversation as Audrey Sunset knew she had to step in and help out her best friend, she left Penny for a moment greeting Cyclone’s taller figures with a smile as they nodded, shaking hands. He asked the duo, Sunset and Maverick, what the hell are the young aviators were doing and Audrey answered, “Dogfight football.”

“You wanted a team sir, there is your team.” Maverick confidently said smiling then looking up at Cyclone who sighed.

The Daggers kept playing with one another and enjoying their time together which made the duo smile brightly. The Admiral, Cyclone, kept asking questions and even reminding them that time is of the essence and they shouldn’t exactly be playing too many games. They nodded answering his questions the best they can however Pete and Audrey knew that allowing the group to have some fun and keep up a good interaction with one another creates a bond to use later while in the air, a relationship in the skies and the ground. Finally Cyclone left the duo as Pete and Audrey chuckled giving one another the tightness gentle hug they can mange.

Pete yelled, “Mama, I missed you!”

“I know!” She yelled back grinning.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming here, I wouldn’t brought a few more beach blankets and stuff.”

“If I did Mav, it wouldn’t be a surprised. But by the looks of it, you clearly got it covered with the team.”

“I can handle everything just fine. We had a couple of missteps here and there but I handled it well.”

“You mean you and Amber handled it well. This whole thing is a huge team effort honestly and I’ve seen your teaching skills, they’re great!”

He grinned at the compliment and joked, “Oh really? I’ve been told I can hold myself well in the skies or whatever.”

“Yeah hot shot! You can teach it but remember who taught you to keep your calm up there? Me!” She replied grinning proudly to herself.

“Shut up you! I hate you sometimes. ”

“No, you love me. Every time!”

“Hmm maybe I do, maybe I don’t?” Pete said said playfully with earned him a playful nudge and pointed look from Audrey as he laughed, “I’m kidding! I love you!”

The duo stare down watching the Daggers and chatting about their days, noticing the crazy kids having a total blast. Even all gang members tackling Hondo to the ground which caused everyone to laugh loudly as they kept going back and forth on the next set of games. Hell Maverick and Sunset joined in for the incoming rounds ending up wet from failing to keep away from the seawater.

Soon enough burgers, fries, drinks and or just snacks filled up everyone’s stomachs! Time past as all the guys and girls split up to do their thing on the beach or inside. A few insightful moments resulted by the end of the day but overall it was a fun time. Audrey returned back to household after leaving on long lasting conversations with Maverick and Penny.

Audrey entered the doorway that lead towards the living room as she dropped her bag and yelled out, “Hey! I’m home! ”

Tom was reading a book he picked up lately while wearing his reading glasses as she glanced up at her replying, “There you are!”

“Sorry, traffic was a bust. But before that Maverick and I-”

Iceman laughed hearing his other friends name dropped shaking her head, “Say no more.”

“You didn’t let me finish!”

“You said Maverick and we both know where that leads to!”

It was Sunset turn to laugh, “Ok your not wrong! But it was Maverick, me and Penny, I’ll have you know.”

“So it wasn’t total chaos.”

“Exactly.”

The two headed to the kitchen to find something to read, knowing Sarah nor Amber would be home until much later in the day due to them hanging out with friends and family members. Later on they headed down to the office to check over files and check to see if there were any good films to watch in the DVD box usually set in a closet filled with older stuff. Overall it was a nice successful day.

Tags: @mandylove1000 @topgun-imagines @sherlkore @gaminggirlsstuff @happilycameron @t-nd-rfoot @levijeanqueen @rooster-84 @msrochelleromanofffelton @gcthvile @hanlueluver @blackheart-beauty @gcthvile and etc

#top gun: maverick #top gun 1986 #top gun maverick au #iceman top gun #maverick #tom kazansky #pete mitchelll #tom kazansky x oc #pete mitchell x oc #pete mitchell imagine #iceman fic

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kny-stardust · 9 months

Text

Chapter 9 — Approval

Word Count: 3093

Summary: What would you do? After everything you went through, you hadn't thought about the point you were lacking the most. What would you do about it? You find the answer in an old memory, and you find your way to the future.

Urogi had been the one to welcome you that day at the boulder. There was no sight of Sekido or Karaku, which was rare since former never skipped a day and the latter seemed to be joined by the hip with his yellow friend. When you asked about them, he merely said that they had other things to do, so you would have to put up with him, which wasn't hard, since he was a pleasant company, despite him being overly excited all the time.

“What do I want to do?” You repeated his words, unsure of what they meant. He had asked you that after some chitchat, which usually was about anything other than training, so it got you off guard.

“Well, we've already gone through the basic, which was what you were lacking the most. Right now, you should try learning the breathing style, but you said that you weren't able to actually use it, no matter how hard you tried.” He said remember your words from when you two first met. “The breathing style is important, since it's what helps you kill the onis, so not learning one isn't an option. So, I want to know what you intend to do about it.”

“Shouldn't I just learn it either way?” You ask him, a bit doubtful. “I mean, Mr. Hantengu also learned a breathing technique that did not suit him before he made his own as a Hashira, right?” You said, remembering the story you heard, but Urogi got a bit silent, which was unusual for him.

“Was it the old man who told you that?” He finally asked, after a couple of minutes.

“Actually, no. It was his son, Mr. Aizetsu. I don't know if you kno-” You couldn't finish your answer before Urogi bursted out laughing. “Something wrong?” You asked him as you saw him slightly turn his face to wipe the tears out of his eyes. You still couldn't see his face.

“Not really. I was worried that old man had gotten more depressed about his past and wasn't even being honest about himself anymore, but it was just Aizetsu.” He explained, as he turned back to you, his mask back on. “He was the worst storyteller I've ever met, so it isn't surprised that you got it all wrong.”

You couldn't help the confusion that took over your head as you looked at him, as well as curiosity. During all your training, it was clear as day that something happened in Mr. Hantengu's past that shook him personally. The way that he took care of himself and the state that the house was when you and your siblings arrived was worrisome, and he said that he supposedly took care of cleaning up a bit before you arrived. He seemed better after a couple of months of you living together, but you couldn't deny that sorrowful gaze he had when he thought that neither you or your siblings were around. It still haunted him. You remember the old lady who welcomed you and your siblings, saying that he changed after his wife passed and his son's grew distant of him.

Could that it be it? You knew it wasn't polite to pry into someone's past if they didn't feel like talking, but you couldn't help but wonder what happened. Was there something else to his late wife passing? Could she have been attacked by an oni? If he failed to protect her as a slayer, that could explain things.

“Hey, (Y/N). You there?” Urogi's voice takes you out of your thoughts, and the sudden closeness of your face to his made you take a step back.

“Sorry. I was over thinking something. What were you saying?” You apologize, wanting to quickly change subject to get out of this akward situation.

“Well, long story short, yeah, old man was a Hashira, but he became one thanks to his technique. He made while he was still a rookie, if I'm not mistaken.” Urogi said, putting his arms behind his head.

“Really!? He must have been a genius.” You said, which made him laugh again.

“Not exactly. The only thing he was good at was the basics, but he had plenty of knowledge of his master's technique to switch it to something more of his taste, you know?” He said. “I guess his original breathing was Water? Not sure. It's been so long and he had forgotten how to use it by the time he trained me, and he got a couple of other breathings tricks into his own. Either way, what I want to know is if you want to keep on learning his style or you want to make your own?”

“Wouldn't I have to learn his style or his original style to make my own though?” You ask him, holding your hand to a fist.

“Not exactly. You quite a bit of the theory of his technique, so that should be enough for you to make your own based of on his.” He said, and you could tell he should be smiling gleefully behind his mask. “It's like a freestyle dance. You know the basics of others, so you mix them all together and make your style.”

“Dance...” That word stuck with you as you remembered the feeling you had when you used Hinokami Kagura. “Then, could I take a dance and use it as a base to my technique?” Your question must have gotten him off guard, as you saw him flinch.

“Huh... Well... I guess...? Yeah. But, it depends if the dance can fit into sword style.” He said, moving a bit too much to his usual self.

You don't mind this though, as a thought began to take root in your mind. You wouldn't use Hinokami Kagura to fight demons. It was a sacred dance passed generation to generation in your family and you refused to tarnish it for something bloody, even if for a good cause. However, the inspiration was there.

“I guess... I know what I want to do, Mr. Urogi.” You tell him, smiling.

All of this happened a couple of weeks back. You began to develop your breathing technique, but you were doing most of it alone. It was your breathing style, your technique, something that would fit you and you alone. Other people's point of view would only help distracting you and pushing you further of what you were intending to do. You knew that either Karaku or Urogi was always around, watching you develop your style, ready to answer your doubts, to make you company when you got tired and needed to rest. The latter was mostly the reason you called either of them.

It seemed like you had no doubts regarding what to do, like you knew exactly what you would do. You couldn't tell why, but you also had this feeling of familiarity, that only grew stronger as you progressed. It was like you had been tied, blindfolded and silenced by years and you were relearning how to walk, to see and to speak, and speeding up the process as time went on. It gave you the same familiarity as when you danced in the New Years so your father could get some rest when his heath began do decline further, many months before he has diagnosed with just a couple of weeks to live. This familiarity lead you to completing your style.

Once you did that, the very next day, you met Sekido. You hadn't seen him in many weeks, since the day Urogi asked you what would you do from then on. You don't know the reason for his absence, but he seemed to come back right when you said you should try to slice the boulder. Not only that, but he came back with a real staff, a Khakkhara, with sharp tips and edges certainly capable of terribly wounding and possibly killing a person, and maybe a demon.

“Not looking so pathetic anymore, are we? But, have you learned anything in these past months?” Sekido asked, before beating his staff on the ground. “Show me!”

You draw your sword, the very same sword that has been by your side since the beginning, from the person who set you in this path in the first place.

“I'll show you. Today, you'll be the one to loose.” You said, making him scoff.

“Too arrogant, you brat.” He replied.

Today was different from all the other times you fought him. Although too aggressive and violent, what you had was still a spar, where the chance of you getting terribly wounded and possibly killed was low (althought that bastard did manage to to make your arms black from all the beating he gave you). Now, with two real weapons, his intention was clear: it's not long fight, but a short one, where the victory is defined by the quickest strike. Due to his weapon's range and clear experience, Sekido should have the advantage in this situations, but you remember Mr. Aizetsu's words from when he trained with you.

‘Weapons are merely tools to be wielded by humans. Even the strongest sword will be as effective as a stick in the hands of an incompetent master. So, all the advantages a weapon might have will be of nothing if one is incapable of grasping them.’

Sekido was clearly capable of grasping and fully utilizing these advantages, but you were just as capable of overcoming them.

You prepare yourself, breathing in deeply, feeling your body heat up and the world disappear. In this place, there was only you and Sekido. You watch as he begins to move slightly. He was going to crouch and launch himself at you, wielding his staff to thrust the tip against you. It was an habit of his, that you began to notice after a couple beating sessions, that he always started off like that. You knew what he would do, you wouldn't let him however. Quicker than him, you close the distance between the two of you, the sword up your head. You were close, too close for him to do something. His only option was to dodge, but that came too late. You bring down your sword, slashing him. He takes a couple of feet back to back away from you, but his mask falls, hanging around his neck, split in half.

The silence takes over the place as you both stare at each other. Sekido had a shocked expression in his face, stiff and angered, like you imagined he would have if you could have looked to him without his mask. You were equally shocked, not only for managing to pull out an strike on him, which you never did until now, but at the reveal of his face, so much similar to someone else you knew. This feeling of familiarity only grew stronger as his face softened and he gave a small smile, one that gave off pride and a little bit of relief, but his eyes carried a mix sadness and worry. He looked so much like Mr. Aizetsu, a splitting copy even, except for his eyes being red like his mask.

“You actually pulled it off, (Y/N)!” You heard Karaku scream from behind you. You turned to him and saw Urogi by his side. Their shoulders were tense. “Our job here is done. From now on, it's all up to you.”

“Hey, (Y/N). Take care over there, okay?” Urogi told you, his tone nothing like his usual happy careless self. “There is like the real deal. You only got one shot. You either succeed or...” He doesn't finish his sentence, as if afraid to unintentionally put a curse on you. “Anyway! Good luck at the Final Selection!”

Final Selection? You remember Mr. Hantengu telling that after the training, you would have to go throught one final test to see if you could actually be a slayer, but you could only go and take if if he approves of you, and you would only do so if you could split the boulder. You look at the said one, and you notice something. Your sword had almost almost hit Sekido, which he dodged, leading to only his mask being cut, however, your sword hit something else. As you turned, you saw the boulder, split in half, in a clean cut. You stared at the sight in awe, not noticing that Sekido had literally vanished from your side.

You cut the boulder. You did. You actually did it.

As realization came to you, you couldn't help the smile that made its way to your lips.

You had to tell Mr. Hantengu!

You stood up and turned to rush to his house, but as you did so, you saw him standing at the edge of the clearing, looking at you with an expression fo disbelief. Karaku and Urogi were nowhere to be seen. He made his way towards you, in utter silence, until he stopped by your side, but he wasn't looking at you. He was looking at the boulder. He raised his shaking hands towards the perfectly sliced surface before he fell to his knees.

“Uncle!” You let go of the sword, crouching by his side, holding him. “Are you okay, uncle? Are you hurt? What hap-” You began to bombard him with questions, wondering what could have happened to make him like that, but then you heard it: sobs.

When you looked at him, you noticed he was crying, his face twisted with pain and something else, something like guilt. He was holding to his chest as he rested his forehead against the boulder, letting his heart cry freely. You were frozen at the side. You didn't understand what happened. Why was he crying? With how much he was sobbing, you didn't think he would be able to answer you straight away, but you couldn't let him like that either. So, you pulled him closer and hugged him, patting on his back gently.

“Shh.... It's okay... It's okay... There, there...” You told him softly, repeatedly.

It took some good minutes for his sobs to die down, for his breath to even itself, for you to let go of him and see him with just a couple of trails of tears running down his cheeks, already beginning to dry themselves. You waited for him to talk, gently rubbing your hand on his shoulder, reassuring him.

“I'm sorry, (Y/N)...” He told you after some time, but you shook your head, smiling gently at him.

“It's okay, sir...” You told him. “I did have my fair share of just crying and being unable to stop. It's not shameful at all. Father also did that and said it's okay when-”

“That's not it.” He said, interrupting you. You remained in silence at his words, until he sighed and stood up. “Let's go home. I'll tell you everything there. I owe you an explanation, and an apology.”

You didn't understand what he meant by that, but you didn't ask it either. He said he was going to explain it to you, so you believed him. You picked you Mr. Aizetsu's sword you let down and stood up, following him on your way down the mountain, not noticing the dozens of eyes following the two of you, especially three pairs of red, green and golden.

Hey, Nezuko, Tanjiro. I did. I actually did! I cut the boulder, and uncle approved of me!

You can probably tell, but I’m so happy. It’s been a long time. Two years. Two long years. Two painful years. At last, it was all worth it. I made my own breathing style, and I’ll take part in the Final Selection.

Our siblings were overjoyed to hear it. Hanako and Shigeru jumped in me, telling me I was incredible and asked me to show what I could do. Rokuta is still a bit too young to understand, so he’s going with the flow of his older siblings. Takeo seemed happy, but he has become more closed than before, more silent than before, so he didn’t show as much. You know him, he’s been trying to pose as the man of the family whenever Tanjiro or I weren’t around. He still blushes and gets embarrassed when teased right.

Uncle made sure to buy enough food for celebrate my success. The kids were so happy. I wish you two were there, to see their faces, their smiles, it’s been so long since I saw them smile like that. It was beautiful.

Sometimes I wonder, if where would I be if I hadn’t chosen to become a demon slayer. What would have happened to me, to us. I don’t even know, and I won’t even think about it. I learned in these past years to not think about what ifs, and focus on the what to do from now own. And right now, I’m getting ready for the Final Selection. I’ll have to stay away for sometime, the test is long, and hard it seems, but thanks to Karaku, Urogi and Sekido, I feel it. I can do it. Even uncle believes in me.

I know that I had told you that I felt like he didn’t believe in me, but that was not it. He explained everything to me, his reasons, his motives, and even his wrongdoings. He was honest with me.

I won’t lie to you. I was deeply upset by the things he told me. Had he just been honest with me from the start, many things could have been avoided, but maybe I wouldn’t be here. Like I said, I won’t think about the what ifs, but what do now. Besides for every bad thing he did to me, he did a dozen of good ones to us, so I forgave him.

I’ll be going now. I going to leave tomorrow early, and the journey is rather long, so I should get some sleep.

I promise to be back as soon as I can. And I hope you’re awake too.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny au #kny fanfic #kny roleswap au #reader insert #kamado family #hantengu #urogi #karaku #sekido

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liaromancewriter · 2 years

Text

Postcard Memories

Premise: As they spend a day with family, Ethan reflects on how different his childhood was from that of his children.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); Sienna Trinh x M!OC (Max Valentine); featuring OC children Rating/Category: General. Fluff. Words: 3K

A/N: Submission for @choicesaugustchallenge Day 26, Pirates AU. This isn’t an AU per se, but pirates and buried treasure play into one of the scenes.

Ethan Ramsey could still remember when he thought marriage and fatherhood were not in the cards for him. The events of his childhood had taught him a hard lesson. Then he met Cassie Valentine, and fate played a great joke on him by giving him both.

All these years later, as he watched his wife hugging their twin daughters before leaving for a spa weekend in the Berkshires with her friends, he knew he wouldn’t change anything.

Cassie had been excited about the trip for weeks, especially with Sienna joining the former Roomies. He had been hard-pressed to beg her not to go. He loved his children, but a part of him often worried about ruining their lives if left alone with them for too long.

“Alright, girls, remember what I said?” said Cassie, rising from the floor and staring at them intently.

“When Daddy starts panicking, send you an SOS and then call Grandpa Naveen,” Eloise and Sophie chorused.

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose and quirked an eyebrow, his blue eyes narrowing to slits as they met Cassie’s teasing green ones.

“Very funny, Rookie,” he grumbled before adding pointedly. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

She grinned and then closed the distance between them, her hands tugging his head down for an open-mouthed kiss that was as hot as it was brief. Ethan’s arm slipped around her back, keeping her locked against him until he heard two loud sighs.

He quickly let Cassie go, the tips of his ears turning red when he realized the show they’d just put on for the girls. Enjoying his mortification, his wife rolled her eyes and chuckled, blowing him an air kiss before grabbing her bags.

He placed his hands on the twins’ shoulders, connecting them as a unit, and the three of them waved goodbye to Cassie as she stepped into the elevator and turned to face them.

“Oh, Dr. Ramsey?” She smiled wickedly as the doors started sliding shut. “Your surprise should be here shortly.”

Silence settled as the elevator doors closed, and then she was gone. And Ethan was left wondering what on earth that was about. What surprise?

-------------

Max Valentine wanted to roll his eyes at his wife's long list of instructions, but he was a smart man and managed to control himself. Besides, Sienna Valentine (née Trinh) was so darn cute with her schedules and color-coded lists. He often liked to pretend ignorance just to see her in action.

He checked his watch and wondered if he had time to seduce his wife before her friends dropped by to pick her up from their hotel. Sadly, there wasn’t as much time as he would like, but he wasn’t a CEO for nothing. He could improvise.

“I know that look, and it’s not happening,” Sienna cautioned, brows beetled as she shook her head in exasperation. “The kids are right outside, and Cassie will be here any minute.”

“You know I love a challenge,” smirked Max, advancing on her.

She laughed and tried to evade his grasp, but he knew her too well, and it didn’t take long for her to be caught. Giggling, she fell back on the bed, and he followed her; his weight pressed against her, and she moaned, forgetting where they were.

The loud knock on the bedroom door had them cursing in frustration.

“Keep it PG, you two,” they heard Jackie say through the door.

“There are impressionable little humans out here,” said Cassie.

“Adult ones, too,” added Aurora.

His laughing green eyes met Sienna’s mortified ones, a blush spreading across her cheeks as she glanced at the closed door and sighed with relief.

“To be continued?” said Max, his lips hovering above hers before capturing them in a not-so-PG kiss.

“I’m holding you to it,” whispered Sienna when he let go, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

They jumped off the bed and straightened their clothes. With one last kiss, Sienna went to join her friends while Max carried her things out. After a protracted goodbye — the kids, and the dog, refusing to let her go — the door to their hotel suite finally closed behind them.

Max turned around to see three pairs of sad human eyes and one canine staring up at him. Their expressions were a mix of accusation and tears, along with an amused look from their nanny Mrs. Banks who was holding one-year-old Michael.

“Are you sure about this, Max?” she asked, glancing down at the kids’ slumped shoulders and then back at him. “The four of them together is a lot to handle. Plus, Bailey.”

“I’m positive,” he said, taking Michael from her to transfer him into a stroller. “Besides, I’ll have help. Enjoy your day off with your sister, Mrs. B.”

He crouched to lift a morose Amelia into his arms. She hid her face in his shoulder, and her tears dampened his shirt.

He waited for her to raise her head before wiping the tears away and then smiled down at his children with excitement, “Are you kids ready for an adventure?”

---------------------

Ethan might not be a fan of television, but his daughters clearly disagreed. As soon as Cassie left, they’d turned to face him with a glint in their eyes, folding their arms in unison.

“We’re bored,” they said in a tone that implied it was his fault.

“Is that right?” he commented sarcastically, glancing at his watch. “In the two minutes since your mother left?”

It was just his luck to be surrounded by drama queens. Like mother, like daughters.

He tried to get them interested in myriad activities that didn’t include their favorite video streaming service. Of course, they just shook their heads, took hold of his hands, and led him to the family room, where a large TV screen was mounted on the wall.

Eloise handed him the remote with instructions on what they wanted to watch and which service. And, oh, they wanted popcorn with extra butter and a sprinkling of M&Ms and gummy bears because that’s how Mommy makes it.

So now he was sitting on the couch, a large bowl of popcorn on his lap, his daughters on the other side of him. He sagely listened to them explain how the mouse in their favorite show was a ballerina by day, and a superhero by night. And silently worried about all the salt and candy they were consuming.

The sound of the doorbell was a jarring interruption to his thoughts.

“Who is it? Who is it?” The girls cried out eagerly, rising off the couch and running down the stairs toward the front hallway.

Ethan followed slowly in their wake. “Remember, girls. Don’t open the door until we check the security camera first.”

He knew they were smart enough to wait for him, but there had already been a couple of incidents where their exuberance got the best of them. They stared at the security panel video, ready to jump out of their skins.

He braced himself for the screams as he unlocked the front door. And they didn’t disappoint.

Eloise and Sophie rushed into Noah and Isabelle’s embrace, the four of them talking over each other.

“Dad said we were going on an adventure.”

“Belle, we’re watching Wilhelmina!”

“Mom gave me a nail polish set, and Dad said I could bring it here.”

“We have popcorn with gummy bears. Come on!”

Michael, tucked inside his stroller, looked overwhelmed by all the noise his cousins and siblings were making. Bailey stepped forward to sniff Ethan’s shoes and then sat back on her haunches.

Ethan looked down when Amelia clung to his leg. He lifted her in his arms, and her tiny hands wrapped around his neck. He met Max’s amused gaze above the heads of their children.

“Surprise!” He grinned. “I hope you didn’t have a quiet day planned.”

“With this lot?” Ethan quipped. “At least now I’ll have company in the mad house.”

“Are we in the mad house?” Noah asked, confused, staring up at his uncle and father.

“What’s a mad house?” said Sophie, nudging her older cousin.

Max barked a laugh, and Ethan groaned out loud when he realized the kids had heard him.

Just then, Amelia patted his cheeks. “Uncle Ethan, Uncle Ethan. Guess what?”

“What?” He smiled at the familiar refrain.

“I had a bad dream,” she whispered tearfully, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

“I’m very sorry to hear that, Amelia,” he said softly. “Would you like to talk about it?”

She slowly nodded, and he smiled gently as she lifted her head.

Of Max and Sienna’s children, she was the only one with the Valentine looks in spades, including blond hair and green eyes. Amelia looked a lot like Cassie’s childhood pictures, and he had a soft spot for the shy little girl.

They moved out of the hallway and inside the apartment. Sophie and Eloise dragged Isabelle and Noah upstairs to the family room to watch Wilhelmina. Noah complained that he was too old for childish cartoons but followed his cousins regardless.

Bailey padded to her favorite spot near the windows and waited patiently. Max reached inside the hallway closet for the dog cushion Cassie kept for Bailey’s visits and set it down on the floor. Bailey circled the red pillow and then hopped on, resting her chin on outstretched paws.

Max unstrapped a fussy Michael from the stroller and set him down on the floor. Happy that he was free, Michael chortled and was off crawling, ready to explore this new world.

On the other side of the living room, Ethan stood near the kitchen counter, still holding Amelia. He nodded in sympathy as she told him about her dream where a cartoon bear had chased her up a tree. Max had heard it all last night and let his daughter do her thing with her favorite uncle.

A short while later, Ethan returned to the living room after leaving Amelia with the other kids. Right now, they were getting along, but he knew that a squabble could break out any minute once the initial excitement wore off.

Max was parked on the couch, one eye on his phone and the other on Michael. He looked up with a smile when Ethan sat down on the armchair across from him.

“Let’s give the kids another twenty minutes, and then we have to head out.”

Ethan quirked an eyebrow in surprise. “Is this part of the surprise your sister mentioned before leaving?”

Max laughed. “She doesn’t know about this. My dad should be docking his yacht at Marblehead shortly, and your dad is already on his way there. We’re taking the kids sailing, maybe stopping off at one of the small islands for a picnic and a swim.”

“Six kids and a dog on a boat?” Ethan mused and then laughed at the mental image. “Are you sure we’re ready for this?”

“We’re grown men, Ethan. We can handle anything.” Max grinned. “Why don’t you put together a bag for yourself and the girls? I’ll head upstairs and keep the peace.”

It took them thirty minutes instead of twenty to corral everyone. As soon as the kids found out the plan, their excitement went through the roof, so Ethan wished for five minutes of peace and quiet. He had a bag packed with essentials for the day, but Sophie and Eloise insisted on inspecting it. Just in case.

In his infinite wisdom, Max had arranged for transportation for the day. Ethan didn’t think he would have been able to drive with the cacophony of sounds. The children chattered constantly, did sing-alongs to the music playing through the speakers, and made Bailey bark with elation as they teased her inside the travel crate.

By the time they got to the yacht club at Marblehead, Ethan was ready for a stiff drink. He watched all five kids run toward their grandfathers, who stood near a multi-level fifty-foot yacht, arms open to catch them.

Ethan shared an exhausted look with Max. “What were you saying earlier?”

Max shrugged, closing his eyes for a second against the screaming of the gulls and their children up ahead.

“Ahoy, gentlemen,” Robert Valentine called out as they walked over to the boat. “Beautiful day to be out on the water.”

Alan Ramsey took one look at their faces and burst into laughter. “Robert, I think your son and mine both need a drink after that drive.”

“Daddy said we’re a mad house,” Sophie spilled to Alan in a singalong voice before nudging the sleeve of his jacket. “What’s that, grandpa?”

Ethan met his father’s laughing gaze and knew Alan was enjoying himself. Despite all these years, he loved teasing Ethan and watching him stumble along fatherhood.

Robert saved him from further embarrassment by distracting the kids with their planned adventures for the day.

“Who’s ready to see some dolphins?” Robert’s voice boomed.

He chuckled when Sophie and Eloise’s eyes went wide with excitement, and they silently mouthed the word they’d often heard their mother use.

“Are we really going to see dolphins, grandfather?” Noah asked, his voice hopeful.

Robert nodded. “Once we clear the marina and sail past Lighthouse Point into the open. You might see dolphins, a humpback whale, and others. Mostly from a distance.”

“And we’re hunting for pirate treasure,” Max added dramatically. “Ho ho ho, my mateys.”

Everyone climbed on board, and soon they were ready to depart. Ethan and Alan helped the kids and Bailey put on their lifejackets while Robert went up deck to get the engine started.

Max, well-used to sailing with his father, stayed on the dock. He untied the moorings before jumping onto the platform as they pulled away from the marina.

They cleared the entrance leading into the yacht club, passing by public beaches and Victorian-style homes lining the waterfront before crossing over into the open waters. Ethan initially worried about everything, from kids getting seasick to Bailey falling overboard. Then he realized none of the other adults had the same concerns.

He turned when Max nudged his arm with a bottle of beer. “Relax. This isn’t the kids’ first time on the boat. You know my dad is an old hand at this.”

“I know,” said Ethan, adjusting his sunglasses as he raised the bottle to his lips.

Over the years, he had come to appreciate the European brand of beer Max drank and savored the cold liquid on a sunny day as the wind buffeted his hair. He watched the boat's bow gently rise and fall and thought how much he loved being out on the water like this. It was a postcard-perfect day, the cool breeze providing respite from the intense sunshine.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw Noah, Sophie and Isabelle chatting with Alan on the banquette. Michael was strapped in a carrier set on the table; Alan was absently rocking it.

Amelia was crouched near the railing, petting Bailey and whispering in the dog’s ear as they watched the water. Eloise stood beside Robert in the cockpit, listening intently to him explain the basics of operating the boat.

As promised, dolphins swam alongside their boat at one point, keeping pace as they flew in and out of the water. The children were in heaven, running along the deck to keep them in sight, while Bailey kept barking and turning in circles at the strange sight.

He and Max took Sophie, Eloise and Amelia down one level, holding onto them tight as they sat on the swim platform in the stern and held out their hands, hoping to pet them. Isabelle and Noah called out to the dolphins from above, uncertain of meeting them up close and in person outside an amusement park.

Much to the girls’ disappointment, the dolphins kept their distance from the humans. But they did give them a superb performance, showing off by leaping into the air out of the waves. Ethan thought it looked like the dolphins were dancing on the water, making high-pitched squeaky sounds as if performing a cabaret.

“Daddy, look, the dolphins are waving at us.” Eloise jerked his hand eagerly, her mouth open in awe as one of the dolphins wiggled its flipper before disappearing underwater.

Later in the afternoon, they anchored in an inlet off one of the dozens of rocky outcrops and uninhabited islands dotting this part of the Atlantic ocean. Ethan stayed behind to help his father set up the picnic on the beach while Robert and Max took the children treasure hunting.

Ethan could hear the children’s excited screams and exclamations in the distance and shared a disbelieving look with his father.

“Robert stopped off here earlier on his way to Marblehead to bury some pirate coins and other treasure,” Alan explained, laughing at his son’s expression. “You’ve never believed in pirates or lost treasure, have you, son?”

“I believe pirates existed. There is historical proof, after all. But buried treasure?” He scoffed. “No, I prefer reality to fantasy.”

“Well, you might want to pretend for the girls,” Alan advised, shaking his head in amused exasperation. “They’re smart as whips, but they’re only six and want to believe in everything.”

Ethan nodded in acknowledgment and thought Cassie often told him to do the same.

When the girls came running back to show him their loot—as they called it—he admired their treasure, a mix of souvenir shop doubloons and costume jewelry. He nodded attentively as they told him about the treasure hunt and retold the pirate stories they’d heard from Uncle Max.

Later at night, as they drove back to the city, Ethan placed his right arm around Sophie’s sleepy form and his left around Eloise. They were both tired and huddled against his sides, falling asleep within minutes of getting on the road.

On the other side, Max did the same with Isabelle and Amelia, while Michael’s neck lolled sideways in his car seat. At the same time, eight-year-old Noah fought against asleep, his bleary eyes locked on a pocket game device.

Unlike the trip to Marblehead, the return trip was a quiet affair and gave Ethan time to reflect on his childhood. It had been a happy one up to a point until everything changed. He had friends in the neighborhood, but he had also been lonely since he didn’t have any brothers or sisters to share it with.

The one thing he was guaranteed with his own children was that they would never be alone. And he was grateful for that more than anything else in the world.

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