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feelmyskinonyourskin · 1 year

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Fight Club

Pairing: Matt Murdock x (AFAB)Reader (with platonic Frank Castle x Reader)

Summary: @hellskitchenswhore is killing it with the prompts lately. Per her request: Matt's freaking out thinking you might be cheating on him because for the last few weeks, you’ve been coming home smelling like Frank. What he doesn’t know is that you asked Frank to teach you how to fight and didn’t tell Matt.

Warnings: 18+/SMUT. No use of Y/N. Female/AFAB reader (use of terms like girlfriend and female anatomy.) Established relationship. Brief mention of an active shooter at an office, Frank and Matt using pet names like sweetheart, mentions and accusations of cheating but no actual cheating, Unprotected sex, Fingering, P in V, Creampie, and Possessiveness from our dear Matt. Sort of getting caught after the fact.

Notes: I started taking kickboxing like three weeks ago, so I like to pretend that qualifies me to know what I'm talking about (It doesn't lol). So apologizes if I got any of the terminology wrong. UPDATE DEC 2023: I wrote an alternate ending to this fic that ends in a threeway with Frank that you can read here

WC: 5,000

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

“That’s it sweetheart, last round I promise.” Frank encourages you as you take swings at the bag in front of you.

You’ve been at this for at least an hour and your arms feel like jello. You can’t remember the last time you were breathing this hard that wasn’t from Matt bending you in half. Jumping directly into the Hudson would have kept you drier than the amount of sweat currently pouring down your face and exhausted body.

“Atta girl, atta girl!” Frank praises as you take your last few swings, arms too weak to make any real movement of the bag

“Alright, you’re getting the hang of it now. Few more sessions and you’ll be out there with Red every night.”

“Pfft I don’t know about that, Frank. I’m just trying to make sure I can protect myself is all.”

“So remind me again why you didn’t ask him to teach you this?”

It started last week. One of your favorite coworkers was going through a bitter divorce and her estranged husband decided to confront her at the office and pulled a gun. You heard two shots ring out from your desk and feared the worst - all the active shooter situations you'd seen on TV were happening live in your life. Fortunately, as you fled for safety, Jerry from accounting was able to disarm and tackle the guy before he could hurt anyone thanks to his black belt in Jiujitsu.

Even though the incident ended okay, it had spooked you enough to get yourself some defense classes, for all those times when your vigilante boyfriend was too far uptown to protect you at a moment’s notice and Jerry wasn’t around to save the day.

Matt was always overprotective of you and you hated to think how he’d react to the incident, so you hadn’t told him. When the story hit the news, you lied (via text so he couldn’t detect it) and said it happened on a different floor and you didn’t even notice.

You also didn’t tell him about your decision to learn self-defense. Matt was more than qualified to teach you, but for some reason, you just didn’t feel comfortable asking for his help with this. Maybe it was his propensity to throw himself into helping those he cared about, you especially, that gave you hesitation to give him another thing to prioritize over himself. Maybe it was just how good he was at fighting that made you not want to “be a beginner” in front of him (not that Matt would ever judge you about anything.)

In fairness to you, you hadn’t intended to learn it from his frenemy and former client, but you’d showed up at the boxing gym near your work and the gruff men inside intimidated you so much, you bolted out the door before signing up for a class, tears welling in your eyes when you quite literally bumped into Frank on the street.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, nodding towards the door of the boxing gym

“I thought… Look I want to learn how to fight. Or at least how to defend myself. This place is close to work but um… might not be the right fit for me.”

“Why don’t you just ask Red?”

“It’s a long story,” you replied with a sigh “but I really don’t want to ask him. Or for him to even know about it. So can you please not mention you saw me here or we had this conversation?”

“Okay, can I ask why not?”

“You can but I’m not gonna answer.”

Frank chuckled and shook his head

“Well if you want to learn to fight, this isn’t the best place. I know Vinny the owner and he’s a shit teacher. But if you want to learn for real, I’m happy to teach you.”

“What? Wait really? Wait, Frank you know how to fight?”

“Sweetheart, I was a Marine for over 15 years, ‘course I know how to fight.”

“And you’d do that for me?”

“Course. You’re Red's girl. What times’ he leave for his little night job?”

“9:00”

“Great, meet me here at 9:30. Tonight.”

And that was how you ended up here, collapsing on the gym mat beneath you with a groan.

“Not bad for your first time. We just gotta get you in the habit of resetting your hands after every hit, and you’ll be golden” Frank praises again

“Oh yeah, I forgot, always protect the face so I don’t end up lookin like you.” you jest

“Ouch” he feigns hurt with a smirk on his face “Red teach you to swing low like that?”

“Nah Castle, that’s all me. It’s part of why he loves me. Same time tomorrow?”

“Sure. See you then.”

By the time Matt returns home, you’re showered and in bed, sore muscles pulsing every time you twist and turn in your sleep. Between the smell of sweaty clothes in the hamper and the scent of your freshly washed skin rubbing against silk sheets, plus the heat radiating off your sore muscles as he crawls into bed silently beside you, Matt figures it out pretty quickly.

‘She started going back to the gym. Hmm. Have to ask her about that in the morning.’ he thinks as he drifts off beside you.

You awake in the morning to gentle hands rubbing at your back.

“Mmm morning Matty” you mumble, still pulling yourself out of sleep

“Morning sweetheart.”

“What are you doing?” you ask as he works a little lower down your spine

“Giving you a massage. I can tell you’re sore. When did you start going back to the gym?”

“Just yesterday. And you’re right I’m super sore. Thank you, this is a nice way to start my day.”

“Of course sweetheart. What gym did you go to? Did you have fun?” he inquires

His innocent prodding has you waking fully quickly, trying to cover your tracks without outright lying and getting caught.

“Oh this gym near work. Couple people in the office recommended it. And yeah I had fun.”

All truths.

“That’s nice. Mmmm do you want to start the coffee or shower first?” he asks, seemingly letting the subject go

Perfect.

As you rush around to get ready for work, Matt grabs the laundry hamper from the bathroom, walking it over to the washing machine. Your dirty workout clothes from the night before sit on top, now less potent that they have completely dried. But he can’t help but feel like something smells off.

Sure it smells like you - natural scent mixed with your fading sweat, but there’s something else. Something familiar. A very subtle hint of spiciness mixed with… is that gunpowder?

‘Weird’ Matt thinks to himself, but brushes it off a moment later, the smell not strong enough to really garner more than a passing thought.

But three times he does the laundry in a row, he smells it. It’s so subtle, he might not even give it another thought, but it’s just so damn familiar.

It takes another week for him to ask you about it.

“Hey sweetheart, you’ve been going to the gym a lot lately,” he mentions over dinner

“Mmmhmm. Yeah, can you feel my muscles growing? I’m feeling stronger.” you reply

“Yeah. What exactly are you doing at the gym? It’s really working.”

“Oh a little cardio, a little strength, you know…” you skirt around, being intentionally vague

“That’s good. Is it like a class or?”

“Um sort of. Just this guy at the gym, he’s been helping me. You know, walking me through the exercises.”

Also technically the truth.

“That’s good. Well, I’m glad you found something you like.”

‘Okay, so that guy must smell like this. She’s close enough to him in a warm sweaty gym, so there’s a little bit on her clothes. Makes sense.’ Matt thinks to himself. But he still can’t shake the feeling that that smell is so familiar.

Two weeks later, Matt is out on patrol when he hears a familiar heartbeat on the fire escape a few floors down from where he’s perched.

Frank.

“You just gonna sit there all night, listinin’ Red?” Frank asks

“Very funny Frank.” Matt says, hopping down to Frank’s level

“Haven’t seen you in a while” Matt comments

“Been busy. Madani’s been usin’ me more.”

“Oh don’t tell me you’re going legit Frank.”

“Not a shot in hell, Red. But gotta pay the bills somehow.”

And then a strong breeze blows. Frank’s signature blend of sweat, aftershave, and metallic mixed with gunpowder from all the weapons he handles overwhelms Matt’s nose. Matt cocks his head in confusion. It’s so damn familiar. But of course it is, it’s Frank. How many times has Matt been on a rooftop with him like this, bs-ing the night away while monitoring the city?

After catching up for a bit, they go their separate ways, the rest of Matt’s evening turning uneventful.

He returns home to you shortly after 3 am, your soft breathing as you sleep calms him as he strips off his suit.

You hadn’t met with Frank tonight. He said something about following a lead and you were perfectly fine with that, you needed an off day.

Matt curls up in bed beside you, resting his head on your back and falling asleep quickly.

The next night, Frank is really putting you through your paces and you swear you’re ready to collapse when he finally calls it for the night.

Per usual, Frank offers to walk you home when you’re done and for the first time since you started coming here, you accept the offer since you stayed a bit later than usual tonight. At least until you can make it to Hell’s Kitchen and within range of Matt.

You and Frank make small talk as you go and eventually, the chill of the autumn air has you shivering in your still-damp-from-sweat workout clothes.

“Here sweetheart,” Frank says with a lopsided smirk, slinging his worn jacket over your shoulders.

“Thank you Castle. Always a gentleman.”

“Course, ‘specially for Red’s girl.”

You make it to 35th and 10th, close enough to home and hand his jacket back to him, parting ways with a nod and a polite “goodnight.”

The later hour coupled with the particularly intense session has you collapsing into bed without even removing your shoes, let alone your gym clothes.

When Matt returns a few hours later, the smell hits him like a truck.

‘I swear to god Frank, if you’re bleeding on my couch again…’ Matt thinks to himself.

But when he enters the apartment the only heartbeat he can hear is yours. He inches slowly toward the bedroom and rolls the door open gently. He reaches down to feel the soft lycra of your leggings on your body, careful not to stir you from your slumber. The smell of your sweat clinging to your clothes fills his senses, way more potent than normal plus that other scent you’re bringing home from the gym. Matt pauses to wonder why he thought Frank was here but then it hits him.

Oh my god. The mystery smell from the gym you’ve been bringing home is Frank.

But how could you smell like…

And then the gears in his head start turning. And he feels like a goddamn idiot.

You had been going to the gym. But not to work out. You were cheating. With Frank of all people. And you’d made the critical error of not showering when you got home.

Matt begins to pace the apartment, rubbing at his chin as his thoughts move a million miles a minute about what to do.

Did he confront you? Did he confront Frank?! What should he even say?

The sun rises and he’s still pacing and contemplating when his alarm rings out. He shuts it off before it can wake you too. He needs more time to think about his next move. He gets ready for work quietly and slips out the door before you awake.

You find it odd you haven’t heard from Matt all day. When you woke up you saw his Devil suit in a heap in the living room and there was no damage to it or blood on it. So you knew he had come home and was relatively okay. But it was so odd for him to leave without a goodbye kiss or go this long in the day without so much as a text. But he had been busy with a heavy caseload lately. You finally break shortly after lunch and text him first.

“Hey Matty. Know you’re busy but I miss you and I love you. Dinner tonight?”

“Can’t. Working late. Don’t wait up.” He responds

That was… oddly curt. But again you figure he’s stressed and busy.

Matt on the other hand has been wracked with stress all day. It only took an hour of his constant pacing and fidgeting for Foggy to break and finally ask.

“Matt. What’s up?”

“I think… I think I’m being cheated on.” Matt confesses. He leaves the Frank part out of the equation, wanting Foggy to be as objective as possible about his response.

“What could possibly make you think that?”

“She’s been going to the gym like every night for a month now right when I leave for patrol and she came home last night smelling like… another man. And she’s been smelling like it a little the whole month but last night it was all over her”

“So did you ask her?”

“Well no but…”

“Matt you are literally a human lie detector and yet here you are jumping to conclusions instead of doing the rational thing and just asking her.”

And maybe Matt would have taken Foggy’s advice if he thought you were just cheating with your gym trainer. But this was Frank. And that made it all the more complicated.

Matt decides finally what he’s going to do. He’s going to follow you tonight, catch you in the act and confront both of you together.

Matt still hadn’t come home when you depart for your nightly workout session, but little did you know he’s there. Pacing on the roof, waiting for you to leave. As soon as he hears the lobby door shut behind you, he springs in to action, taking the stairs two at a time into the apartment and changing out of his lawyer suit and into his devil suit as quickly as possible, making sure not to lose your heartbeat now a block and a half away. He makes up for the lost distance quickly and is practically on top of you by the time you enter the gym.

“Hey Frank” you call out as you enter

“Hey. I’ll be over in a second.” he replies from the locker rooms

Matt crouches down by the side of the building, just close enough to the windows to hear everything going on inside.

You’re almost done wrapping your hands when Frank emerges from the locker room.

“Alright let’s start with our usual, then you can have a go at me again.”

“I don’t know Frank. You really wore me out last night. I woke up still in my clothes and shoes.”

Matt knew it. He fucking knew it.

“Tough shit sweetheart,” Frank responds with a chuckle. “And what did your boyfriend think about that huh? He got any idea what we’re doing here yet?”

“Honestly I don’t know. I didn’t see or hear from him at all today. Which is weird even for him. And no I don’t think he’s figured it out yet.”

“You’re gonna have to tell him eventually”

“No, I don’t”

“So what you’re just gonna keep sneakin’ around, becoming a prize fighter without him gettin’ suspicious? Shit even a regular guy would raise some alarm bells by now, but especially Red and all his … shit”

“Frank, I am not here trying to become a prize fighter. I’m just trying to get strong enough to defend myself if he’s not around to do it. That’s all”

Matt’s heart drops.

How could he possibly think you were cheating? And with Frank of all people. He felt like an idiot. Like a total asshole. Sure you had lied, well, technically withheld the truth and he’s sure you’ll explain why. And he’s hurt if you wanted to learn to fight that you didn’t come to him. But this was not nearly as egregious a stain on your relationship as he thought it was.

“I don’t know. Think you should tell him. Show him your moves. Shit, you’ve gotten a couple good hits on me these last few days I’m sure you could give Red a run for his money.”

“I am not fighting Matt, Francis.” You say with an eye roll

Matt listens for the next hour as Frank talks you through a few hitting drills, then the two of you sparring. Frank is clearly taking it easy on you, but Matt is still impressed by what he could tell of what you were doing. He absolutely would need to take you on to really gauge your skills.

Franks's phone rings out just as you’re cooling down with some stretches.

He answers and speaks for a few minutes.

“Alright sorry to jet out of here but Madani has somethin urgent for me. You good to get home alright?”

“Yeah, thanks Frank. See you tomorrow.”

Frank gives you a fist bump and then disappears through the front door. Matt uses the opportunity to sneak in just before the door slams closed behind Frank.

You’re sitting on the floor undoing your wraps as he finally speaks up.

“If you wanted to opportunity to hit Frank, I’m sure I could have arranged it some other way”

Your spine goes icy cold at the sound of the voice behind you.

“Matt… I” you stumble to explain.

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Matt says, hands up in surrender before reaching up to remove his mask

“What are you doing here?” You ask, ready for him to chew you out for your little secret.

“Alright if I’m honest, do you promise you’ll be honest?” He asks

“Yes.”

“I followed you here because I thought you were cheating. With Frank. And I know now that’s not what’s happening. And I’m sorry for not just asking you.” He confesses with a sigh

“Oh Matt. I’m so sorry that I did anything to make you think that. That’s not at all what’s happening here.”

“I know. Been listening all night so I know. But I have to know why. Why are you doing this and why didn’t you tell me? And Frank? Really?”

“It’s a long story. Can I tell you while we walk home?”

And so you do. By the time you make it home to your apartment, you’ve come clean about the incident at work and running into Frank and how he’d been coaching you the last few weeks, and why you were so hesitant to ask Matt to be the one to do it.

Matt is oddly quiet through your explanation but nods as you speak. He finally speaks up just as you’re unlocking the front door.

“I forgive you. And I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t ask me. But now that I know, I am curious…”

“You want to see how much I’ve learned?”

He nods enthusiastically

“Fine. I guess since now you know you can join us tomorrow. If you want.”

“Perfect, I’ll be there”

He tucks you in to bed with a gentle kiss before heading out on patrol again, no longer clouded by doubts about your relationship.

—

When you arrive at the gym the next night, Matt is already there, looking extra adorable in his gray sweatpants and messy hair.

It’s all so familiar to him - the buzz of the fluorescent lights, the smell of sweat and heat, the gym mat sticking beneath his bare feet with every step. Just like Fogwells when he was a kid. He feels at home here.

“Hey sweetheart” he greets you with a kiss

“Hey Matty” you can’t help but smile whenever you see him after a long day “Frank texted me, he’s running late, but um do you want to help me warm up?”

Matt’s face lights up with excitement. “Yes. Okay. What does Frank normally have you do?”

“Two rounds of jab crosses on the bag. Three minutes each.”

“Okay, have at it”

You wrap your hands and begin hitting the bag. Not even thirty seconds in, Matt speaks up.

“Woah woah woah. Frank has been letting you hit like this and not correcting your form?”

“Yes. Wait, what the hell is wrong with my form?”

“You’re too far away from the bag. I can hear your shoulder joint rubbing every time you jab, which means you’re over-extending that left arm. Makes you put way too much energy into each hit, you’re gonna wear yourself out way faster. Here. Step closer.”

Matt moves behind you to help you correct your position, then lets you take a few more punches.

“See? More power, less effort.”

“Yeah. Any other pointers?”

Matt places his hands on your shoulders and places his feet right beside yours, pressing his body tight against your back. You never thought of boxing as particularly erotic, especially not with Frank teaching you. But with Matt’s breath against your ear, you can’t help but feel a chill run down your spine straight to your core.

“Go ahead, gimme a few more, I want to feel how your body moves. See just what else Frank has been teaching you wrong.”

“Matt…” the words die on your lips. You want to speak up and defend how kind Frank has been these past few weeks to spend the time to teach you, but Matt’s sweet whisper of encouragement has you forgetting anything else but him.

“C’mon sweetheart, don’t get all shy on me. You hesitate like this for Frank?”

“N..no.” you stutter, then weakly throw out a few more punches

Matt chuckles, knowing just how much he’s winding you up with so little.

“Put a little more power behind them. Don’t let me being here hold you back.”

You try to do as he says and throw some real hits, but Matt is still pressed right against you.

God, his body is warm usually, but being flush behind you as you move and hit, he practically feels like white-hot iron against you. Your heart is thumping out of your chest, and it’s not just from the few minutes of warming up you’ve done. You know Matt can hear it and is going to play you like a fiddle. His own wicked form of punishment for not telling him about your training.

His hands drop from your shoulders, running down your back lightly and coming to rest on your hips. He plants a soft kiss right under your ear.

“You’ve been working hard. Maybe Frank does know what he’s doing.”

He places a second kiss a little lower down your neck.

“You throw any actual punches at him yet?” he asks

“A few. Landed some of them too.”

A third, fourth, and fifth kiss down your neck, working his way toward your shoulder. His stubble is coarse against your skin, sending goosebumps across your flesh, your toes curling into the squishy mat beneath you.

“Mmm that’s my girl.” he says, as he begins sucking on your neck, his right hand snaking around to your front, tickling at the top of your leggings.

“Matty” you chastise

“What?” he feigns ignorance

“Matthew. Do not start something you can’t finish. Frank will be here any minute.”

“You said he’d be late.”

“His text said ‘a few minutes’ and that was already several minutes ago.”

“Well I can’t hear his heartbeat yet, so we’ve got at least five.”

You want to protest more, you really do, but you just can’t resist Matt.

Laughing low, he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his steady breath against your exposed skin a stark contrast to the growing labor of your exhales. You spread your legs a little wider. He takes the invitation and reaches his hand fully into your leggings, using a finger to circle your sensitive bud.

You throw your head back onto his chest with a moan, his name falling from your lips in a breathy whisper.

He continues to suck on your neck as works at your core, finally sliding a finger inside you, then another.

You reach forward to grab the boxing bag for stability, Matt’s touch causing you to writhe enough that you’re not sure you’re able to stay standing without it. As you thrash against him, he inhales deeply, a mix of your natural scent and your arousal consuming his lungs.

In order to get you exactly where he wants you, he keeps a quick pace, knowing he does not have a lot of time. His rhythm never falters, stroking you over and over in that perfect spongy spot inside you. It’s not long before you're coming apart with a cry of his name.

Just as your head stops spinning and you’re returning to earth, Matt is turning you around and connecting his lips with yours. So hungry to have you, he guides you back a few steps, never breaking his lips from yours, and pushes you against the wall behind you.

His kisses grow more and more desperate, sending an electric tingle down your spine, though that could also be because the wall behind you is made of mirrors and the glass is cool against the heated skin not protected by your sports bra.

As soon as you make contact with the wall, his hands are back on your hips, pushing your leggings and panties down in a heap on the sticky mat beneath you. His clothes soon follow.

You throw your leg up and around his hip, opening yourself to him. An offer he quickly accepts. A soft gasp simultaneously escapes both your lips, the relief between the two of you as he guides himself slowly into your wet and eager core until he’s fully sheathed inside you. Restless fingers reach down to wrap your other leg around him, now fully holding you in the air against the mirrored wall behind you.

He repeats the pace of his fingers only moments ago and slams into you harshly and quickly, over and over again, desperate to feel you release around him again, knowing Frank could appear at any moment.

God, your familiar warm heat is absolute perfection, he thinks as he continues to bury himself into you over and over again. You’re still incredibly worked up from your previous climax and it takes just a few thrusts for you to be close again. The way your body is clamping around him and tensing lets him know just how close to ecstasy you are again.

Matt leans forward and you can feel his quickening breath against your ear once more.

“Damnit sweetheart, you scared me so bad. Made me think I was sharing you with someone else.” he grunts as he continues to drive his hips against yours.

“No Matty. I’m yours. Only yours — oh God. I promise.” you whimper back, arching into him further.

“Good. But to make sure you don’t forget, I’m gonna cum inside you, right now and every single night before you leave. So I’m dripping out of you after every hit, every kick. No matter how much Frank trains you. So you remember exactly who. You. Belong to.” he growls lowly against your skin, pushing you even more firmly against the cool glass with every thrust.

“Yes. Please Matt — Fuck. I’m all yours. I promise. Please.”

He thrusts one more time before he cums with a rumble of your name, his arms tightening around you, holding you impossibly close as he releases inside you just as he promised.

As he grinds against you in just the right way to hit that perfect spot one more time, your own orgasm sweeps over you. Your nails dig into his back, holding on to him as you let go, his harsh thrusts now slowed just enough so he can keep the both of you upright.

He feels you release, causing a final low groan from him, slowing down his pace, as your molten pleasure fades away. Still consumed by him and the feel of him holding you close, you lean your head back to rest against the mirror behind you as you catch your breath. Just as you feel like fully slumping against him, he sets you down gently.

You don't even really register him pulling away from you until he speaks.

“Might want to put your pants back on. Frank’s a block away and I don’t think you want him to know how I warmed you up before he got here.”

You open your eyes and see that Matt is already dressed, a smirk painted across his face as he listens to you scramble to put your clothes on.

Just as you’re adjusting your leggings back in to place, Frank and his large frame enter the gym.

“Hey –” he pauses at the sight of you and Matt in front of him, both sweaty and still panting a little.

“Hmmm. Guess Red knows now.” Frank grumbles

But then his eyes go wide.

“You wanna tell me what that’s about?” he asks with a point of his finger.

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you turn behind you to see what he’s asking about. The mirror is covered in smudges that look vaguely like the outline shape of your body.

“We don’t talk about what happens at fight club…” Matt jokes as you bury your face in your hands in embarrassment.

My Masterlist

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #frank castle #frank castle x reader #charlie cox #nmcu fic #mcu fic #daredevil fic #matt murdock x you #marvel daredevil #daredevil imagine

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topgunruinedme · 4 days

Text

I Got Dreams But I Can't Make Myself Believe Them

Word count: 7.5k

Parings: Rooster & Maverick, Rooster & Iceman, Iceman/Maverick

Summery:

'Hey it’s Mav, leave a message. And no Ice whatever they’re accusing me of, I didn’t do-' He jabbed his finger on the screen again. Tears in his eyes. It couldn’t end like this. It just couldn't...please... It rang. Once Twice- “Hello?”

His face hurt. Pulsing with a vigour that he knew he should take his pain med and yet…he hadn’t. Because he deserved this pain. He deserved this.

This aching, the dagger-like sensation deep in the muscle when he tried to move. Still, it was not even close to a fraction of what he made them feel. So, he deserved this.

The pain. The punishment. They always did tell him he was a masochist. Fretting over his father being gone, whether Mav missed him, why he didn’t miss him. Worried about his mother's health, if they would lose the house, why wasn’t she smiling anymore. Would Mav stay or would he leave him without his favorite Bradshaw's; after all Mav wasn’t his babysitter. Was he going to be stuck alone in this world struggling to finish high school with the crushing debt of his mother's hospital bills and house lines that he discovered showed under her bed two days after the funeral. Was he going to die hungry or cold? And his newest one, would anyone care if he burnt in?

At least he had an answer to the last one. No. It was so painfully clear now, he had pushed too far and they had given up on him. The phone calls and messages left unanswered, the lettered read tearfully and shoved in a box under his bed that stayed with him religiously through deployments. The Admirals who bumped into him occasionally in deployments which he knew was their way of checking on his health after all files can only offer so much.

Yet…no one had come when he called. When he had laid on that hospital bed terrified out of his mind, cold, bloodied and half the mind that either he was Nick Bradshaw or he was seeing him. And no one, had come.

His NOK. His dad. He called.

No one.

No one cared anymore.

He remembered the nurses holding him down as he screamed out in short panic bursts as what he now knew were cold induced hallucinations raged through him. He remembered managing to grab a nurse's arm and begged them to call his father. Begged. Over and over again, demanding she keep trying until they sedated him somewhere between the forth redial.

No one came.

His dad didn’t care anymore.

He had gone too far and they had given up on him.

He pressed his face into the tattered plushy pushing down the whine of pain as it agitated the stitches on his chin tugging at the cuts. He curled around the soft toy in the limp bunk at his base housing trying to breathe through the pain. Wheezing as the position put a strain on his already sore ribs, bruised but thankfully not broken, but there was only so much they could do about the bruising caused by the harness. They marked up his chest, around his shoulders and down his back, making him look like a mummy who went through a fight and became a kickboxing victim. They weren’t pretty overall. He certainly wasn’t going to be winning any medals any time soon.

It was strange what near death situations did to a person. Twelve hours ago he was filled with such hurt, such hatred towards Maverick's actions, not him as a person but hurt about how he went behind his back and stopped him from succeeding…he just couldn’t see why they couldn’t have talked about it. Now. After spending all those hours alone trapped in a hospital wing, half aware of reality, strapped down to his cot like some dangerous criminal. All he wanted was to hold his father's hand. All he wanted was to go home.

But the question stood, did he even have a home to go back to now?

He remembered the crokard post box from that time Mav had tried to teach him to drive and he accidentally mixed up his accelerator and brake. But despite the years, Ice never fixed it. Maybe he was also a sucker for memories.

He remembered Ice’s fond smile as he helped apply the coloured paint to his hands after he insisted on putting their handprints on the mailbox after watching the new Disney movie UP. Ice had simply shaken his head, dug out some paints from one of Maverick's abandoned side projects and let himself be dragged out to the front lawn laughing all the way.

He remembered the loose and wobbly handrail to the stairs in the hallway that always made Ice sigh and roll his eyes anytime he heard it creak, yet he never got it fixed even when Ron apologized for being too careless while roughhousing with Wolf and offered to fix it himself.

He remembered the way Maverick would be waiting for him in the kitchen every morning before school. Chiding him to get dressed as he snagged a piece of bacon from the pan while Ice wasn’t looking only to complain that it was hot, when he himself was bare chested new and faded marks across his chest with low sweatpants on his hips, bed hair wild around his head.

The way every Thursday without fail their house would be filled with his uncles, spread out around their living room in various stages of a food coma, gorging themselves on the sweets Mav would spend all morning making with a pleased smile. He always had been his happiest providing for other people, seeing they were happy.

He remembered the board game night, the nights they would spend curled up on the couch together with some nonsense show that no one was really watching, and the nights they sometimes spent out watching the stars.

He remembered them cheering at his little league games despite being tired from a long day at work or having just returned from a deployment, which he now knew they would have been dead on their feet just wishing for a bed. He remembered their concern muttering when he was sick and their fingers through his hair. He remembered Ice’s mother's lullaby that the man would hold him through the wee hours of the morning and hum under his breath when they thought he was asleep.

He wanted to go home, he wanted it all. But he had lost it all when he cut off contact. And he was half terrified that they were angry at him, every time he sat there and thought about calling, about turning up on their doorstep to ask for forgiveness he would just stare at the number of missed calls, he would think about the hundreds of voice messages. He’d feel the burning of the box of letters all unanswered under his bed as he laid down and hugged his goose plushier that they had given him all those years ago. No doubt abusing Ice's powers to discover his address when he heard that he was in hospital in his junior year of university. The seams were now ratty from how often he ran his fingers over them, the fur carefully taken care of but despite his efforts the old plushie was dying, and unlike everything else in his life it was leaving him too. He could no longer preserve the memories within it.

He bit his lip only for the sharp pain that shot through his head to remind him why he shouldn’t do that. He winced, not from the way the fur rubbed up against the fresh stitches, although it wasn’t comfortable, but over the fact that Maverick was right. His heart jumped in his throat. He wasn’t ready.

Because Maverick had almost just lost him like he had lost Goose.

He had been reckless, and arrogant; he had been a kid thrown into a jet and told he was good, his ego was inflated and he hadn’t been ready.

And he had fallen out of the sky. He had burned in. And he was damn lucky he didn't take anyone else out in the process.

He had paid his price, and it had almost been his own head.

A few more seconds… the doctor's words ran through his head like a gunshot echo, warning him of the tragedy that could have occurred.

What will you tell their parents when they don’t come back? When they come back in a casket. What excuse will be ready then Lieutenant… His commanding officer lecture piggybacking from his nightmares, what excuse will be acceptable then?

There wasn’t one. This was his fault, his own failure. What would they have told them if he died?

You have my condolences Mr Kazansky, Mr Mitchell. However, your son has died in a training accident - having not even made it out of Top Gun - by his own stupidity!

Yeah, he could see that going over well.

He ran his thumb over the screen of his phone nervously, should he call? He had called- the hospital had called. But maybe they don’t answer unknown numbers, old people were like that… right? His fingers felt clammy as he took a shaky breath, whining quietly as he thumbed through his contacts to find the right number and listened to the phone ring quietly.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Each ring felt like a bullet in the chamber, he could hear tone ringing out around him as tears welled in his eyes, a sob building in his chest as the phone clicked, the call unanswered.

Too close, switching to guns.

'Hey it’s Mav, leave a message. And no Ice whatever they’re accusing me of, I didn’t do-'

He jabbed his finger on the screen again. Tears in his eyes. It couldn’t end like this. It just couldn’t…please…

It rang.

Once

Twice-

“Hello?” A croaky voice answered, indubitably not Mav.

"Ice?" His voice shook, "Pops?"

“Shit ” . Something rustled loudly over the phone and he could almost see Ice scrambling to sit up on the bed. A bitten out swear carried lowly over the line and it almost made him smile as he heard something clatter to the ground with a thud, no doubt the older man knocking something off the bedside table in his haste to grab his glasses and slide them on his nose to look at the phone. “Bradley?”

He sounded so hesitant as if he was afraid he was hearing things. It pained him to wonder how often his Pops had woken in the middle of the night hearing his voice and wondering if it was real or a sleep deprived hallucination. How often it left his Pops laying in his bed curled up with his hands over his ears trying to ignore his imaginary self calling for him for help, and not being able to help the man come back to earth. How many times had his Pops suffered silently and alone and he hadn't even known about it.

“Pops” he sobbed, chest aching from the force of his whine and the pang of his heart at the thought of how many times he had been the reason for his parents to cry, the cause of his parent's pain over the years.

“Bradley baby. What's wrong? Come on baby bird, I need you to speak to me”. Ice’s familiar level tone sounded unusually anxious, “Come on daring, you can do it. Take some deep breaths for me”.

He hadn't even realized that his panic induced sobs had pushed him into the dangers of hyperventilation. His gaps of breath between his chest shaking sobs became shorter and more panicked as he acknowledged the lack of oxygen.

“Breath,” Ice pleaded. “Baby please”.

“He didn’t answer” he gasped out, whimpering “He wasn’t there ”

“Bradley, honey what-?”

He could hear Ice’s underlying confusion as he whined in pain hissing behind gritted teeth as he burrowed his face further into the soft teddy irritating his stitched cuts. “Mav” he whined, his voice muffled as he pressed it further into the soft fabric, ashamed of his clingy neediness for his parents despite being 25. The mortification of crying out to them over a little crash. He felt like a kid creeping into his parent's rooms during the night after a nightmare, sweat still clinging to his brow, stomach rebelling as he hovered by their bedside unsure whether to wake them or not. But despite the early hour they had always opened their arms to him, shifted and made room for him between them on the bed. Always. Maybe…after all this time, just maybe Ice could spare a little room to allow him a few moments to recuperate and shuffled away in shame.

Realistically he knew that Ice couldn’t see him. He knew that Ice wouldn't care, that the man would simply look at him with pursed lips, his brows furrowed in concern and coo quietly as he gathered him in his arms, careful to guide his face over his shoulder to prevent him from aggravating his wounds further. Despite what many people thought Ice had been more of the mother hen type than Maverick. Mav had been the cool uncle, then he became the serious dad he needed to be but Ice, Ice had been the cool dad. Ice had been the one to take on his missing mother role, the man had melted into it without blinking. Always making sure that someone was there to kiss his brow and tuck him in at night. Who made him breakfast in the morning and took time out of their day to help him with homework when Mav got sick of trying to help him and stomped off frustrated. He was the person who would stand on the guidelines of his games with a cooler of drinks and bulled him into letting him apply sunscreen while he ate the sandwich he had been prepared for lunch while Mav got into an argument with the couch. Ice was the one who would smile at him empathetically holding him when he cried over a crush. Who gave him his talk and he was always there a hand away to allow him to crawl into his lap no matter how old he got to comfort him.

Mav may have been his dad. But Ice had been his Mum, his Pops. He knew that Mav loved him in his own way, but he also knew that he was partly there for his guilty hand in his father's death. He also knew that Mav had promised Carole he would be there for him (Hospital walls are not as soundproof as you think Mav), that he would take his Godfather duties seriously. Whereas Ice, he never had to stay. He knew they were wingmen and they tackled problems together but Ice never made him feel like a problem. He always made sure he was included, he never pushed him. Ice never has to stay, and while the man harboured his own guilt over Nick, he never pushed it, never brought it up. They spent his memory day sitting on the patio in the backyard and drank Kool-Aid with him silently. Ice didn't have to step in but he did, he didn't have to stay but he chose to.

He didn't think he could have a mum again after Carole but he did. And that was partly the reason he couldn't bring himself to hang up. Because despite his shame, the agony of his embarrassment and fury at Mav. Cutting Ice out had been the hardest decision of his life and now hearing the man's voice he couldn't find the strength to hang up. Not when he was so close, his smooth voice in his ear begging him to stay.

“Baby” Ice cooed in concern, it was soft and familiar. It reminded him of the warm feeling of home, the same tone Ice would use as he sat on the edge of his bed letting him climb onto the man's lap clinging to him when his mother was in hospital, not caring that he was far too old to be doing so. He could almost see the soft frown and those gentle eyes staring down at him, and feel the carding of the man’s fingers through his curls. “Baby, are you looking for Mav? He’s out at the hangar tonight. The idiot forgot his phone. I promise he didn’t ignore it on purpose sweetheart-“

“The hospital called” he choked out “I know. I begged them too”.

“Hospital?” Ice sounded alarmed “Bradley-“

“I asked them to call and he didn’t come ”.

“Bradley Bradshaw”. The soft tone shifted to a firm disciplining one, one he didn't often hear coming from Ice’s lips. It was rare to see him step up into the role of the displeased parent, but that didn't mean it hadn’t happened. Like when the man crossed his arms across his chest with pursed lips and a disapproving look when he caught him sneaking into the house at the early hours of the morning when he had been specifically grounded, or when he went drinking for the first time while underage or when the older man had caught him clumsy stubbing out a weed join on his windowsill eyes wide in alarm. This doesn't sound like Ice was disciplining him, no it sounded panicked as if Ice was trying to hold himself together and keep himself from panicking him further when his breathing had just started to slow to a reasonable speed.

“Bradley baby, why were you in the hospital? Are you ok? God- please be ok” Ice sounded desperate. And for a moment it warmed his chest, the next it made his stomach clench uncomfortably.

He had always taken Ice’s compassion for granted and he had used it against Mav more times than he could count to get what he wanted. He had been a spoiled brat and at the time he hadn't cared about what it would do to the two wingmen. And the worst part about it was that while Ice picked up on it he never made him stop even when it led to the two wingmen arguing or sleeping at different houses. But he always came back. It made him feel sick because fuck Ice really did care about him and he still cared about him. Even after he threw him to the curb, after he chewed him out, cutting away their bond and years of love with a rusty knife in hopes it would rot away and get infected. Even after he ignored every call, deleted every message and refused to read the letters and cards the man sent. Even after that horrid ceremony; after he so blankly disregarded Ice’s rank and achievements in front of everyone . Ice had still stuck by his side. Because despite his 7 year long temper tantrum, Ice had stuck by him faithfully. He had respected his wishes and avoided getting the same posting as him, doing his maternal duty to send him away if he was anywhere close to them even if he couldn't prevent himself from sending someone to check up on him occasionally to settle his worry. Even if he couldn't prevent himself from sending cards, or from sending him letters each deployment knowing he wouldn't read them just to remind him that someone would care if he burnt in.

“Today was hop 31” he whispered out with a croak, the demons that accompanied the words settled on both of them, however, there was an unusual heaviness to his. As if more weight had been added on in an attempt to make his knees buckle and maybe there ha d. Every time he closed his eyes it was no longer the spinning of the Pacific ocean around him as he was strapped into the jet, he no longer heard his dad's voices calling out in a panic, he didn't hear the sound of his father's neck snapping against the canopy or the rough tug of air as it detached. Now he heard the panicked voice of his wingman. He heard Hangman scream out of him “Roosters heading out to sea! I repeat Roosters going out to sea! Permission to follow-” “Denied Lieutenant''. He now saw the stomach clenching sight of mountains dropping around him as his jet dipped dangerously out of the training zone towards the sea where their adjective had been. It had been simple: fly through the terrain, don't get hit, and get back to base. Where had it gone wrong? When had Hangman’s taunts turned into fearful screams, when was the annoyed fighting turned into the sound of his jet screaming at him to pull up?

He let the line fall silent, taking a shaky breath trying to pull away from the shaking of the jet, the sharp tug of the G-force and the claustrophobic feeling of the canopy closing in on him as the piercing scream echoed in his head, his death sentence.

“Low Altitude, pull up. Low Altitude, pull up- ”.

He could hardly hear anything but if that was the gun cocking then it was Hangman's fearful cry that was the bullet, “Rooster-!”

He squeezed his eyes shut and instead let Ice do what he did best and allowed the man to gather his evidence and piece it together himself.

“I’m not Goose” he rasped out, barely, when the response took too long. Reminding the man of his hand in one of the worst mistakes of his life. But it was necessary as much as he hated it because he knew Ice, unlike Mav who blamed himself publicly not afraid to attempt to redeem himself for his hand in it, Ice suffered silently letting his mind run over the scenario looking for a way they could have saved Goose, looking for a scenario that didn't exist. Ice loves to torture himself, and like him, Ice was a masochist. “It was fine. I was on my way in and an engine blew. I couldn’t- I went into a flat spin and collided with the ocean” he continued and let out a humorous snort “I burnt in Pops”.

“Christ kid”, Ice's voice sounded suspiciously wet.

“I’m ok” he mumbled, “I wanted you there.” He tugged the plushy tighter to his chest, closing his eyes as he listened to Ice shift the sheets and audibly stood up from the bed hearing the man mutter to himself quietly as he began to move around the house. There was the recognizable creak of his childhood stairs then a door shut and the phone clicked falling into a vain eerie silence. Had- Had he been wrong? He bit his lip shoving down a sob, his lips wobbled, his eyes squeezing shut.

Had Pops- he hadn’t hung up had he? He wouldn’t leave him, right?

Pops loved him…he wouldn't leave him. He wouldn’t, but he wouldn't blame the man if he had. It’s not like he had done anything to instil confidence into the older gentleman. He had brushed him off, thrown his offers back into his face, disgraced the man's title in front of the brass and thrown more venom at the man in the last 7 years than he had shown love.

He let out a wounded noise sob ripped from his lips, teeth chattering as his chest tightened. Ignoring the taste of blood in his mouth as he curled around the plush, squeezing it so tightly it made his shoulders ache and wrist click in protest. No longer making a conscious effort to keep the blood from smearing on the white fabric.

“Bradley?”

His breath hitched eyes, snapping open, tilting his head back to look at the phone that had fallen from his grip to rest on the mattress to his left as he curled onto his side, the line was still connected.

Ice's worried voice wobbled through the line. “Baby bird can you hear me?”

“Pops! You- you-“

“Deep breaths honey” Ice reminded him gently.

“You didn’t leave ” .

“Never” Pops promised firmly. “I’m sorry darling I should have warned you, I forgot there was a lag when the phone connected to the car”.

He blinked and swallowed thickly, reaching up to rub the thick tears from his face sniffing snotty with a grimace as he used his sleeve to rub the evidence from his skin,. His voice clouded with tears as his still scattered brain tried to process the information “Car?”. His head was still pounding and the impromptu crying was not helping in the slightest but the nurse had told him he would be sluggish for the next few days until he healed, then again she had also told him to avoid phones and screens for the next 72 hours. Of anything it was their own fault for allowing him to talk his way out of having a supervisor to watch his every move. Telling him not to use a screen was like telling a pilot he couldn't fly when the new F-25 was sitting right in front of him.

He was going to do it. He would do anything he had to at this point to hear his Pop’s voice, even if he had to fly to DC and burst into his office himself- that is if they are still posted there. But no, he remembered the creaking of the stairs, the sound was seared into his brain. They had to be down in Miramar, they had to be…right?

That was home. They wouldn’t change that.

“Yes sweetheart, we’re going to go find that idiot of a father of yours” Ice chuckled fondly.

“Why-“ he stuttered hesitating as he worried the words around in his brain for a moment before finally dragging the dreaded question he's been worrying about since he stomped out of their lives 7 years ago from his lips, “Why isn’t he with you? Did I-''. Had they separated because of him? Why weren’t they living in the same house, they had lived together for as long as he could remember, they all had.

“No Bradley. You didn’t do anything. He’s just at the hanger, said he needed to do some work on his baby” Ice soothed apparently knowing him too well, perhaps it was a leftover skill from having to learn how to predict his mood swings as a teenager but Ice had always had the knack of knowing what he needed in the moment. He had been so sure on more than one occasion that the man could secretly read minds, but maybe he just knew his thought patterns too well.

He frowned in confusion, “He has a hanger? Like…his own?”

“I was not impressed” Ice huffed in assurance with a heavy put on sigh “If anything he certainly topped the retriever incident, I think he was trying to win some obscure challenge. Then again I wouldn't mind so much if he was actually home more and cared for it”.

“Retriever?”. His stomach clenched as he blinked away tears as he listened to Ice smile fondly as he recounted his wingman's antics. He bit his lip subconsciously. How much had he thrown away?

Listening to the fact that their lives continued on without him hurt but deep down he knew he hadn't really expected the world to stop spinning. He hadn’t expected for them to stop living their lives just because he had left, but to hear confirmation that they moved on, just as he had…it hurt.

How much had he missed?

“I came home from a meeting a couple of months ago and Slider was supposed to be watching him but apparently he got distracted ”. He let out a wet laugh as Ice drawled in an unimpressed tone. A woman then, they had always been Uncle Si's weakness. One he had seen the others exploit many times to win bets or escape babysitting duties. It was almost a game within the group, or at least it used to be. He could almost hear an Ice smile behind his grouchy tone “Anyway I got back and there’s Mav, dozing away on our couch with a baby golden retriever on his chest. She’s the cutest little thing” Ice cooed only to fall into a brief moment of awkward silence when neither men knew what to say before Ice broke it gently, “We named her Rooster”.

He felt like he was going to be sick. Even after all this time, after all he put them through they still wanted him just as much as he did.

“Pops,” he cried wetly.

“I'm here baby bird” his Pops promised “Now. Tell me about what you’ve been up to in the last few years since we’ve seen you”.

“You're an Admiral, shouldn’t you already know that? I know you help keep Mav updated” The tone wasn’t accusingly just…tired.

“I do,” Ice said quietly, not bothering to do anything to hide his involvement, “But I want to hear it from you”.

So he told him. He started by explaining how he had driven to the edge of town and checked into a motel after he stormed out of the house, how despite having sent Mav away with his tail between his legs he couldn't stand staying in that house anymore knowing Ice would come home and convince him to stay. So he did what he did best, he fled. He told him about how he called up admissions to California University and reversed his refusal; one of the conditions of a bet he lost to Slider a few years ago that he would apply to the same university that his uncle had graduated from, at the time it hadn't meant anything to him a mere joke. He explained that the university had been surprisingly accommodating once he spun a tale about a Navy relocation that was changed last minute allowing him to attend the university, a lie that Ice lowly chastised him for over the line. How he packed up his limited belongings that night with only his broncho, a few hundred dollars in his account and a quickly put together duffle to his name and left that night to drive all the to California. Driving from dawn to dusk trying to sober up from his 7 hour drive huddled up against the window of a coffee at 5am in the morning curled around a cup of coffee trying to stay awake long enough to get his keys from the rental company and crash into the first empty bed he saw.

He laughed about how he met Jackson for the first time. How his roommate had been allegedly studying at his desk reading through the textbook for their economics and aerodynamic classes when the door of their dorm opened, but before he could greet him apparently he had chucked his bag, letting it fall to the ground and stumbled towards the only undressed bed in the room. Jackson had told him he looked like a zombie dragging himself around dead on his feet, bags under his eyes slurring as he muttered to himself, practically throwing himself halfway across the room at the chance of a wink of sleep, only to misjudge the distance and land half on the edge of the bed and roll off with a startled shout. Jackson had told him after laughing so hard he ended up tilting off his chair and joining him on the floor that he had just stared silently at the ceiling blinking slowly with a confused look as he registered falling off the bed.

He confessed how he spent that first night laying awake (of course that was after his frankly illegally long nap, if you could call it that) unable to sleep as he tapped his fingers against his phone that rested on his stomach, fully aware of the missed calls and messages from his uncles, his parents. But the burning need to respond just hadn't been enough to rival the flames of fury curling around his heart like barbed wire. He spent the whole of his first night conflicted, wondering if he should give up and change his mind and go home, that he should beg for Mav to tell him why he did this, why he wasn't good enough. Surely there was a reason, something he would fix to make Mav love him again. The memory of Mav recalling in on himself, jaw flexing as the words left his lips leaving a cold grip around his chest as Mav turned on his heels and walked out of the house.

Go away and never come back old man. I don’t want murderers in this house!

He told Ice about how he powered his phone off and got a burner phone for the first few months, unable to look at it with the burning anger that made him want to throw it at a wall hoping it would break. Knowing he wouldn't be able to resist the temptation to reach out if he saw the calls waiting for him. Knowing that he needed to do this, that he couldn't give in yet, that he needed to fight for this. For him.

He told him about how he got a job waiting tables at a nearby mum-and-pop dinner run by an elderly couple, who reminded him of frighteningly grandpa Viper. About how the older couple had stepped in and who took care of him when he was struggling. How they bullied him into staying after his shifts for dinner or pushed hot chocolate onto him and waved away his money when he tried to pay, and how inventive he had to get to hide his tips around for them to find, knowing they would pull his ear like Uncle Wood used to with an exacerbated fond look.

He relaxed back into the mattress smiling as he recounted his subjects and the people he met. Even going as far as to admit that he found most people his age immature and recounted some of the drama and frat initiation he had witnessed. He had never really gotten along with them, instead he chose to hang out with Jackson most days. Unlike him Jackson wasn't heading for the Navy, the man was instead aiming to work as a consultant for the Pentagon. The man loved aerodynamics but the man had admitted that flying made him queasy, and he very much preferred to keep his feet on the ground.

He whispered out the painful admission of returning home for the break not having the will to go anywhere else for the holidays only to book out a hotel room and hide out there afraid of running into any of them. He recounted the nights he had sent in the cold bundles up in his truck outside their house watching the lights go off, unable to take the step of actually knocking on the door. Trying to ignore Ice’s sharp inhale pained with the knowledge that he had been so close.

He talks about how Jackson and he lost contact after graduation both being busy with their new jobs as the man moved out to Texas and as he himself , moved to Annapolis after finding someone who allowed him to enlist and how he got accepted into the academy. He talked about how he was the oldest kid there and the prejudice he faced from the other recruits due to it. How he was dismissed by the teachers and scrutinized by instructors who urged him to find a new career that suited him better. About how he graduated second in his class only beaten by one person, Jake Seresin.

He discussed his frustration and rivalry that bloomed and continued through their deployments only to pop back up, like the leach he was because Seresin was a damn cockroach, as his competitor when he was accepted into Top Gun. How it was only due to a surprising friend from the academy popping back up, Natasha Trace, who kept him sane (and likely from being discharged from punching the man's perfect teeth in) and later became his best friend (one who was very unhappily to find out that they were being separated after graduation, she was being stationed out at Hawaii, hours away from his station in Japan). He talked about how close the points were, about how their rivalry seemed to fizzle out in the moment his jet tipped to the side unresponsive and the man cried out for him. How in that moment, the trophy didn't feel like it mattered anymore.

“They always did put too much focus on that damn trophy” Ice muttered, “The point of Top Gun used to be about being the best, as a team. Now… we’ve lost too much with the encouraged competitiveness”.

He hummed limply as the conversation fell into a sort of lull as he realized how long he had been talking, it was almost 1:23am, almost 2 hours since the call started. And Pops was still here, listening. Who had recognised his distress, and had woken up at an ungodly hour to go and drive out to wherever Mav had boarded himself up for the night simply because he needed him.

“Hey Pops”

“Yeah, kid?”

“I'm wearing your hoodie”. Part of him knew he should be embarrassed at the admission, he ran the cuff of the old faded grey hoodie between his fingers finding comfort in it even though he could no longer smell Ice’s expensive Italian cologne clinging to it. But he couldn't bring himself to be. Sitting comfortably on the centre of his chest covering his sternum was a dark blue and red image, a familiar image, a dark blue circle surrounding a white F-15, marking his chest with his destiny. The words that had been engraved in his mind long before he had ever set foot on the ground before him; United States Navy: Fighter Weapons School.

“Your Top Gun one”. It had given him a connection to them all, being so far away from them, wearing it was the only time he was able to scratch at the nauseating homesickness that rocked his whole being. It had given him a homestead, the name printed across his shoulder blades connecting him to his lineage and the bond connecting his family together.

Kazansky. Graduate of Class 1986, Top Gun.

“I know,” Ice said quietly, “I noticed it was missing not long after you left. You know…there's a photo of you in it up on Penny's bar, at the Hard Deck” Ice corrected before chuckling lightly, “You've grown into it well, I remember when you were a scrawny kid and it just dwarfed you but you refused to wear anything else”.

“I used to take it when you were deployed,” he swallowed, “It was stupid but it made me think that you would come back for it”.

“Brad's,” Ice sounded wretched, “It was never the hoodie I came back for, it was you”.

“I know. I know that now. But…it reminds me that maybe one day…you'll come home again”.

“Bradley-”

“How is everyone” he interrupted sniffing and swallowed down his regret. There was a pause, clearly Ice contemplating chasing up the chain of thought before the man sighed reluctantly submitting to the change of subject.

“Well, you have two new nieces and nephews. Wolf and Wood adopted a little boy three years ago, and Sunny's wife had a surprise kid a few years ago while he was out on deployment, surprising them both” Ice commented dully.

He frowned in confusion, “But I thought Anna was infertile?”

“So did we” Ice hummed but slowly allowed them to fall into the comfortable lull of the conversation as Ice updated him slowly with everything he missed, careful to add in details he thought were pertinent; like Slider retiring from being an Admiral and becoming a commercial pilot, apparently the man was much happier now. Or Wood and Sunny who had co-opened a bakery and coffee store that they had named ‘the smiley shorts’ which honestly didn't surprise him as much as it should have. Or about how Cougar was working in a hospital under his wife who had been promoted to the chief of surgery. And slowly he started to mend a little more.

“Bradley baby, you still with me?”

He blinked tiredly not realizing that he had closed his eyes at some point, he tried to shake sleep from his limbs as it attempted to claim him. He yawned, jaw cracking in the effort as he rolled onto his back tilting his head back towards the phone where it sat on the mattress next to his head. “Pops, right here” he mutters in confirmation, “On your wing”.

“That's right baby bird” Ice let out a small chuckle “Right on my wing. Talking about wingmen. We’re about to find one”.

“Mav?”

“Yeah, darling”. The engine spluttered in the background, and he heard the keys jingle as Ice muttered lowly ‘It's too damn cold for this’ . He listened trying to picture where Ice was as he heard a door opened then the crunch of dirt under boots. He frowned, brows pulling tensely as he tried to picture a desert, or somewhere with a vast amount of land that would allow Mav his solitude but was dry enough to crunch this time of year. He jolted slightly in confusion at the sound of old metal banging against something with a clatter and the loud noise of something heavy rolling.

He almost wept hearing a tired confused voice, “Ice? Honey what are you doing here? It’s almost 3 am”. Mav sounded the same, that lovering concern that he had been on the receiving end of all those years ago and he could see the way Mavs eyes would be pinched in the corner, lips tilted down as he studied them for any injuries, trying to figure out what had happened before they could form a warped lie.

“I have someone who wants to talk to you”, this time he could see Ice's smile, the one that bloomed behind his closed eyelids, the small jump in his lips that bloomed into a gentle smile as the phone travelled hands.

“Uh-hello?” Mav asked, sleep still evident in his voice and he slivered at the flash of memories of seeing the man stumble into the kitchen wrapping his arms around Ice’s waist as he pressed a sloppy kiss to the man's check knowing he would swat him for it as he did every day with a grumble only to pair a cheeky grin to Ice’s unimpressed loom. How he would stay attached to Ice for the rest of breakfast swaying with him a step behind the blond seamlessly ducking out of the way without needing to be asked, passing along ingredients to distract Ice from the wondering fingers trying to snatch a piece of bacon front he pan before it was plated only to end up with a lecture and a wooden spoon to his hand. He remembered Mav’s pouting only for him to turn with a wink as he used to stick his tongue out to tease them.

“Dad?” His voice trembled faced the fact he was speaking to his father for the first time in just under a decade.

Mav hailed sharply, “Baby?” Mav sounded awake, startled by the concern that dragged into his voice. He sounded happy , shocked but happy.

“Dad” His heart slowed his chest aching but relieved as the sense of home finally settled over him.

Home.

“Bradley honey what’s wrong?” Mav asked worriedly.

“He said the hospital called you but you didn’t turn up” Ice rumbled in the background quietly allowing them to have their own moment, no doubt the man had led Mav to sit down holding him close, tugging him into his side.

He could go home.

“Shit, I didn’t have my phone- I didn’t realize until after I got here-”

“Dad,” he interrupted the man's panicked rambling with tears in his eyes as he looked down at the goose in his arms that had offered him so much comfort in the last few years but dispite the memories it carried, it was nothing to rival Mav’s hugs, or Ice’s kisses. It wasn't like curling up with Mav on the couch or being tucked in by Ice. It wasn't home.

“Yes, baby?”

He took a deep breath trying to push back the emotional overload that once again threatened to overtake him, that clung to him weighing him down in the ocean dragging him further underwater like a parachute filling with water with no tactical knife to free himself with forced to watch the rope tangle around his body trapping him as his body jolted at the lack of air. His voice trembled, breaking as the tears became evident in his voice, “Can I come home?”

“Of course, baby” Mav sounded choked up almost as if he was crying as well “God Bradley, of course, you can come home. You were always welcome home”.

And for the first time in years he took a deep breath and his heart felt weightless and he smiled and thought of home, only this time, it was closer than he thought.

#Title from 'Homesick' by Noah Kahan.#top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun fandom #top gun maverick #top gun headcanons #pete maverick mitchell #icemav #bradley rooster bradshaw #reunion #Rooster comes home #the mavdad and icepops of it all #mavdad #icepops

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drghostwrite · 4 months

Text

Snowed in

Pairing: Arizona Robbin’s x preg!reader

Summary: After all they went through Arizona and her wife finally get their baby, but what happens when the due date is approaching and a blizzard blows through Seattle.

******************************************************** “We expect for atleast 12 more inches of snowfall before 9pm tonight, to make matters worse roads are becoming extremely dangerous due to black ice, and snow drifts. We encourage all to stay inside and all necessary personal to stay safe and warm as it is going to be a long night in Seattle.” You stood in your living room watching the live emergency weather forecast.

“Ugh…” you groaned to yourself, you could hear your wife moving in the kitchen and decided to go see what she was up to. Walking in you saw her moving around your stove.

“Arizona?” You called. She turned with her signature ‘light up a room’ smile holding two mugs in her hand. You smiled lovingly back at her in her pajamas making you hot chocolate because you were both stuck here with nowhere to go.

“We’re snowed in… and that calls for hot chocolate!” She said excitedly walking a mug over to you and you stood at the end of the island, farthest away from the stove, she ran her hand along your lower back as she stood facing you.

You stared down into the cup of warm brown liquid, “Y/N is everything okay?”

“for now…” you said quietly, though you were happy to be with her you couldn’t say that you weren’t slightly worried.

“what’s on your mind?” She asked as you turned to face her, you mustered up a smile.

“it’s nothing, it’s just…” you shrugged and laughed a little as to ease her worrying about you.

“Is it the baby?” She asked a hand coming down to feel around your very swollen baby bump.

“no no baby’s okay.” You smiled.

“Okay, look if it’s this weather I promise you it’ll be okay… I’m not going anywhere I already told Webber that I’m staying with you in case anything were to happen… not that it will, cause our little one has got a couple more weeks to go.” She said calming your nerves. She ran a very soothing hand along your bump, one of the only people other than you that could calm your baby when they decided to do kickboxing with your internal organs. You absolutely loved how she would talk to your bump, one time in the OR your baby decided to give you a little scare and she was there at your side in mere seconds talking to your bump, calming your baby while you held a human heart in your hands. Another time you got stuck in a 16 hour trauma surgery and your muscles had locked up, as soon as it was over she was right next to you doing her best to work them over as you let tears fall over how sore you were never once leaving you alone.

“hmm…” you said leaning forward to rest your head on her shoulder wrapping your arms around each other, your bump pressed firmly against her, she could feel your baby kicking. You decided it would be best to pull an early night and around 9 you headed to your bed letting a movie play on the TV not that you paid much attention to it bc Arizona had got the lavender oil out and was giving your muscles a much needed massage, lulling you into a much needed sleep, she knew you were absolutely exhausted and so she pulled the covers up wrapping her arm around you running a hand over you bump and softly whispering making sure to calm the baby so you could sleep.

Well that was until 3 hours later…

she turned over and found you no longer in the bed next to her, she slowly sat up seeing a very dim light seeping through the crack in the bathroom door.

“Y/N?” She called out.

“I’m okay just go back to sleep.” You responded, you lied to her, you thought you were feeling cramping but unsure so you didn’t want to worry her. You waited holding your breath until you didn’t hear any stirring in the bedroom. Assuming she had fallen back to sleep you let out a sigh, hands on the counter you leaned trying to stretch. You returned to the bed crawling in next to her watching her chest rise and fall softly, rubbing soothing circles on your bump as you tried going back to sleep.

It only lasted 20 minutes before you were back in your bathroom, leaned on the kitchen counter one hand gripped to the sink while the other pressed firmly into your lower back, “Hhhnahh…” you let out a stressed breath, you took some deep breaths, you thought you heard footsteps and looked out into the darkness of the room through the crack in the door, you could see the moonlit outline of your wife still in bed.

“Oh god…” you said feeling another cramping sensation. This time you didn’t hear her call your name as you were focused, you didn’t realize she was up until she was standing in the doorway eyes squinted at you taking in your distressed form.

“Y/N, baby are you okay?” She gently made her way to your side.

“I’m not sure…” you said looking at her letting the demeanor fall.

“Okay let me feel…” you slowly nodded as she put her expert hands on your bump feeling for any signs of distress from baby. That’s when she felt it the muscles tightening against her hands, “Y/N how long have you been feeling this?”

“a couple hours maybe.”

“okay, well you’re definitely contracting.”

“what, no, Arizona I can’t.”

“why?”

“cause it’s to early, an-and we’re stuck here what if something happens?”

“okay it’s okay, we’re both trained for this first of all, I can get Addison on the phone, and we have all the supplies we need.” She said holding your hands, before you could continue you felt a contraction coming in this one stronger than the others.

“okay…” you nodded resting your head on her shoulder leaning into her, she moved quickly after that, prepping all supplies and calling Addison updating her on what’s going on, she also called Bailey to see if they could get anyone there but everyone was having trouble in the weather. You were in the bathroom leaning against the sink again when you felt it, the liquid running down your thighs onto the floor creating a small puddle around you.

“Arizona?” You called and she was at your side in seconds.

“yea love?”

“um…” you said looking at your feet.

“oh okay, your water broke…” you weren’t moving so she wrapped an arm around you one hand under your bump, “it’s okay, just means baby is on its way.”

“I-I can’t do this…” you said still processing as she helped you out of your now soaked leggings.

“yes you can, you’ve got this, soon we’re gonna meet our beautiful baby…” she smiled at you and for a moment everything seems to melt away.

——— time jump———

“Gaahhh…” you screamed feeling baby drop.

“okay baby it’s okay.” Arizona ran a hand up and down your leg, as her other held your hand.

“Y/N deep breaths, Arizona how’re mama and baby doing.” you found yourself on your bathroom floor leaned back against your bath tub, Arizona was monitoring progress between your legs with Addison on the phone trying to get to you ASAP. You didn’t want to do this on your bed and the idea of a water birth was annoying you so this was your best option and Arizona was going with it.

“We’re close to crowning I can just barely see baby’s head.”

“Okay that’s good, you know the drill, just have her push when her body feels the need and watch for tearing.”

“Nnghh… God this hurts.” You gritted out.

“I know baby.” She squeezed your hand tightly.

“Y/N I’m ten minutes out, trying our best to get to you.” Addison explained.

“I’m not sure this baby’s is gonna wait.” You said out of breath already, another contraction cutting you off and you pushed.

“Yea Addison this baby is not waiting, another push Y/N…” you pushed through another contraction.

“mmm it burns, Arizona… God it burns.”

“Ring of fire…is she fully crowning?”

“Yea, I can see the top of baby’s head.” Arizona let out a breathy laugh, tears filling her eyes threatening to fall.

“Okay just breathe, Arizona just talk me through it...” Arizona lifted the towel over your legs, checking progress again.

“Addison the baby is right there, I can see it… come on Y/N you’re so close.”

“okay mama on this next contraction I don’t want you to push, it might help if you take quick small breaths almost like you’re panting, let your body do the work.” You heard Addison through the phone, you let out a long groan in protest before you felt another wave coming.

“Ariz-oh god…nnghh.”

“Breathe baby, pant, like this” she rubbed up and down you leg and started panting showing you what to do. You squeezed you eyes tightly feeling your baby move down. “Okay Y/N big push on the next contraction.”

“Whoo…” you pushed air out, moaning through the breathing, you squeezed your eyes shut tucking your chin to you chest pushing hard, your lips parted as you gritted your teeth.

“okay heads out, our baby’s head is out...” she let another small laugh under her breath, slow tears fell as she watched your baby made it way into the world.

“Arizona I’m on my way, I’ll be there soon…” she heard the dial tone as the phone hung up.

“Okay, one more push… just one more big push.” You nodded at her, tears of exhaustion and desperation to hold your baby fell down your face. You gritted your teeth, letting out one last moan of desperation as you pushed feeling your baby slide into your wife’s arms.

You listened as your baby’s cries filled the room, opening your eyes you saw as tears rolled down Arizonas cheeks as she held your baby who was softly wrapped in one of your towels. “It’s a girl… we have a baby girl.” You smiled softly at her trying to will your very sore muscles to move, before you could say anything you heard footsteps and saw as Addison turned the corner coming into view. She took in the sight before her you leaned against the tub Arizona still between your legs holding your baby, she walked in touching Arizonas shoulder letting her know she was there. She quickly shifted in next to you handing you the baby, you looked down in awe and to Arizona who leaned in placing a kiss on your lips, she reacted her head on the side of yours as you both looked down at your baby.

“Addison, I have a baby girl.” You looked up and smiled tiredly at the redhead.

“I see,” she said running a comforting hand over your leg, “Y/N I’m just going to check and make sure you’re okay.” You grimaced and nodded giving her permission. She lifted the towel one hand slid under placed on your lower belly, she looked up at Arizona who was watching you hold your baby, she looked down confused making eye contact and Addison nodded.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yea?”

“We need to get you to the hospital.”

“Um okay… and the baby?”

“she’s coming with us.” You nodded slowly. The other two women nodded to each other and quickly helped you out to the car, Arizona with the baby and Addison helping you up, you all climbed into your suv knowing it would do better in the snow.

5 minutes later and you were very slowly on your way to Grey-Sloan, Addison was driving next to you as Arizona sat in the back holding your baby in the carrier. You groaned shifting in the passenger seat, feeling your muscles tighten again. You were groaning and it went on for 15 more minutes progressively getting worse before you spoke up.

“Arizona…” you reached a hand back and she took it quickly, “right here I’m right here.”

“it’s coming again.” You grimaced letting out a small whine, your eyes were closed as you fought the exhaustion.

“what… what’s coming again?”

“the contractions.” You said swallowing hard letting your head fall to the side your hand still in hers. She looked up at the mirror meeting Addison’s eyes, Arizonas mouth fell open. You felt as Addison quickly pulled the car over, she came around to your side of the car opening your door and unbuckling you, “Y/N I want to get you in the back seat.”

“But…”

“Y/N please just trust her.” Arizona said sliding into the drivers seat placing the carrier next to her trying to keep your baby calm. Addison helped you into the back seat, you reached grabbing the handle above the door leaning forward one hand wrapped tightly under your still swollen bump, Addison slid in next to you rubbing your back.

“Mmhhh… Addison, another one, it hurts.” You said gripping her hand.

“Okay I need to see what’s going on, come here.” She helped you shift putting your back on the door and lifting your legs you pushed one against her hip as she sat between them, she quickly took her jacket off putting it over your exposed middle, looking under her jacket she saw it, you were crowning again. She looked up rubbing a hand on your knee.

“Twins, and it looks like baby number two is ready to make their entrance.”

“baby number two?”Arizona looked back in the mirror.

“you didn’t know?”Addison asked.

“twins… we’re having twins…I found out last week, I was gonna surprise you.” You said through gritted teeth.

“Right now that doesn’t matter this baby is coming, Arizona I need you to stay calm I don’t wanna have to explain to Bailey why three of her surgeons were in a car accident.”

“it’s coming…” you groaned out you pushed feeling the baby shift lower.

“Okay we need to do this quickly… Y/N I know you’re tired but I need you to give it everything.”

“it hurts.” You let out a small whine.

“I know but you can do it.”

“come on baby I know you can do it.” Your wife encouraged.

a couple pushes later and you pulled up outside the ER doors, your car door whipped open revealing a very concerned Bailey, Jo, Grey and Kepner waiting with a gurney. Addison got out holding one baby while Arizona had the other, Bailey helped you onto the gurney pulling the white sheets up over you, Arizona stepped in next to you walking with the gurney.

“Hey…” you smiled softly at her.

“Hey, love it’ll be okay, you’ll be okay.” You nodded. You heard as Addison gave report to the others, Jo had an OB team ready to treat you and Bailey had a team ready to take care of your babies, Kepler and Grey were there to keep other at bay.

“Looks like you have two beautiful healthy babies, but let’s get in here and get you checked out.” Bailey said wheeling the gurney.

“Whatever you say boss.” You chuckled as they got you in to be checked out.

#x yn #pregnancy #greys anatomy #arizona robbins x reader #giving birth #arizona robbins #greys abc

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oreosmama · 1 year

Note

Hey I was just wondering can you do yandere garou x pregnant reader

oof i just posted itty bitty bits of this with the metal bat and garou thingie but i could put some more random ass thoughts here

garou is a total sweetheart

yandere garou is a fucking monster

which makes him hot

how he would be great with a pregnart reader, im not so sure. but i shall try

certainly he's possessive af, which would provide you with moments like "you're not leaving the fucking house, stay right there and protect my baby"

but when you just scoff and walk past him, he'll groan and follow you. keeping you cooped up when you're on raging pregnart hormones is hard.

so he'll drag his feet after you all the way to the grocery store, and the second you step inside his alarm bells are going off and an arm latches around your waist not unlike that of a metal bar. and he'll yank you closer and haul u around and growl at other customers and shit bc this is a manchild that you are in love with congrats--hope you can handle two babies at once

lil pussy-whipped yandere garou just graduated into baby-whipped garou, so this mf levels up his AUDACITY.

suddenly you can't take care of yourself, apparently. you're not going to cook, you're not going to work, you're not going to take a piss without a safety escort and an ID scan. these are the rules

that's his baby, and you're his baby.

nothing will happen to you.

hands and lives will be taken if anyone touches you.

also daddy garou loves his baby so much omg its adorable the cheek squeezes and the gushes and the actual tears when this motherfucker feels the baby kick for the first time and goes "garou jr will be a kickboxing champ, maybe I can train him in the womb"

strap in, it's gonna be a bumpy ride

#yandere garou #yandere garou x reader #garou x reader #garo x reader #yandere opm #yandere one punch man #oreosmama talks

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zaceouiswriting · 14 days

Text

A room never changes

Character: Theo Raeken x male reader

Universe: Somewhere in Teen Wolf

Warnings: Sad, mentioned death

With a heavy breath stuck in your throat, you slowly opened your boyfriend's bedroom door. It hadn't been long since you were there last, but this time was different. His mother stood behind you, her aura heavy and her features tired. She doesn't seem to have slept in days, maybe weeks. How could you blame her? You didn't have either. The two of you had searched for your boyfriend for days without sleeping, only to find him in a way neither expected. No one else wanted to help find him because he hadn't been the nicest to many people.

His mother and you stood in the open doorway, looking into Theo's bedroom. His bed was immaculately made, just the way he liked it. His room was perfectly organized. When you first saw him in the middle school hallways, you thought he was a typical boy who was disorganized and lived in filth. But he was a neat freak, not to a problematic extent, but he did use your dirty clothes to sleep once, just to make his point clear. You wouldn't say it helped really, but even in a moment like this, it could bring a smile to your face since it was the first time you'd seen dirty clothes on his floor.

You stretched your hand out to take the clothes far into the room but found yourself unable to step inside as you realized that wholesome moments like him making such a stupid point wouldn't happen again. Not because you suddenly became a neat freak though.

To your surprise, his mother encouraged you by gently placing her hand on your shoulder. You looked at her and placed your hand on hers. You always had a silent understanding with each other. However, she was initially disappointed that her only son was more interested in boys than girls, or rather, more interested in you than girls. She changed her mind when she met you and not only saw how fantastic a fit you were for her son but also brought out the best in him.

With the woman's encouragement, you finally exhaled. You had no idea how long you had been holding your breath, but it felt like you had released a chain holding you in place. With a single step into the room, you were immediately confronted with Theo's strong scent, deep as wood and sweet as a rose. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes.

As soon as you stood in the room, you heard the door close behind you and an almost silent sob that distanced itself from it.

There were so many memories in this room, the posters on the walls, of cars, and the collage of pictures of your best moments with your boyfriend. You still fondly remember making fun of him because of it. At school he played the big bad boy, sometimes flirting with people just to piss you off, and yet in private he was a total sucker for you. Everything he did was about you. Whether it was about the songs he wrote in his little book or the pictures he took with his camera. Everything was about you as if you were the center of his universe.

You walk towards the single bed and place a hand on it. It's as soft as ever. Endless days of cuddling will never fade from your memory. The times you wordlessly placed your books on his muscular torso and lay between his legs while you worked on your homework you will always remember fondly. The first few times he was so confused about it looking at you like a beaten puppy, but you never told him why you did it. Maybe he realized that you could concentrate better when you touched him when you suddenly started becoming a perfect student, not getting a grade below an "A" since you started studying like that.

Theo was always your safe place. You knew, as long as he was close, nothing could hurt you. He had learned several martial arts since childhood but was best at boxing and kickboxing; his punches were hard enough to knock down veterans in the sport, and he was agile enough to rarely get hit.

Sitting on the bed, you let yourself get lost in the memories of his fights and how powerful he looked while fighting. His face was always contorted in concentration, while his entire body was tense. Even at a time like this, when sadness was overwhelming you, your body couldn't contain itself, remembering his wonderful body.

But the illusion of that memory shattered as the image of that day returned to your mind. All the subtle happiness disappeared. You remembered his empty hazel eyes that once could have illuminated any moment at any time of the day or night, full of life, love, and mischief.

Your body felt heavy, as did your soul. The salvation of both of them was no longer there, gone like the leaves of a tree in autumn, only he would never come back. His life was pointlessly wasted.

The tears you managed to hold back finally broke free from their bonds, followed by quiet sobs. At that moment, your eyes turned back to the clothes on the floor. He had been wearing one of these items, a black hoodie, late in the afternoon when you last saw him. When you picked it up, you thought you could still feel his lingering warmth, but you knew it was just wishful thinking. You took it in both arms and pressed it to you, Theo's intense scent wafting straight into your nose. You were astonished to find the origin of his heavy scent in such a small object. It overwhelmed you so much that you fell onto the bed, as all energy had left you.

Lying there, all you could do was cling to Theo's hoodie. Even though you tried to stay quiet as you mourned the love of your life that you lost in such a freaky accident, you couldn't. As you remember all those good times, sobs broke through your lips like water cascading down a cliff and breaking loudly on the ground. You sobbed and cried into the only part of him you had left, and when that wasn't even enough anymore, you screamed. you yelled and screamed some more. Until your voice failed and your body collapsed, right on the single bed, you and Theo had your first time on, your first kiss, and even your first fight, which was nothing more than a disagreement over whether or not Theo looked hot boxing. He was perfect for you and you for him. His loudest cheerleader and most loyal companion, while Theo was your protector, loyal lover, and idol.

You felt yourself falling asleep after exhausting yourself, only to be woken up by a rough but warm hand. The same one that had awakened you many times before. You didn't want to admit that it was probably just an illusion, but you refused to open your eyes because you didn't want it to end. But you could still hear a small, deep chuckle, the same one Theo let out every time you pretended you were still asleep even when you had already met his eyes.

The illusionary Theo didn't mention anything about it, just like the real one had. Instead, the same voice that proclaimed his undying love for you many times did it again, almost making you open your eyes. But knowing there was no way for him to be there, you held back, not wanting to wake up.

It wasn't until he mentioned loving his truck and asked what someone does when they love an object too much.

You suddenly woke up, bathed in sweat, and a shiver running down your spine. Glancing at the window, you saw that it was night and the moon was helplessly trying to shed some light in your dark thoughts, but all you could do was run your hands over your face, sighing heavily. You sat back up on his bed. As you placed your feet on the ground, you felt something strange. Looking down, you found a piece of paper you were sure wasn't there before. To your shock, it looked like a password. Your eyes subtly wandered to Theo's computer and wondered if that could be the case. You stood up and activated it. As you typed the words on the paper, the computer opened.

As the dream was fresh, you searched for anything related to his truck. You searched through all of his folders but couldn't find anything. It wasn't until you accidentally found a steamy folder of him and your activities in his truck that you saw something you'd never thought of before. Zooming in, you could read a name on the small object. When you typed it into the search machine, you realized it was a small camera, and as you investigated further, you found out it had a shared cloud. You didn't think you would get access, but you tried anyway. When it opened with the same password though, you could only roll your eyes, since Theo was always preaching cybersecurity but was doing stuff like that.

But that wasn't the point. Instead, you watched the videos. You saw him driving around with a big smile and singing along to one of your favorite songs. It was wholesome until he stopped the car at the side of the road, why you couldn't see, until he stumbled back into the car, fear and desperation in his eyes, as blood was all over him. A gasp escaped you as you watched what happened next. Thanks to your endless crying, it was too quiet for anyone else to hear.

“Those motherfuckers,” you muttered so angrily that a plan quickly molded in your head. “I will avenge you, Theo, my love. Even if it costs me my life, these bastards won't get away with it!" You swore to yourself and your love if he was there. "I will kill them all!"

You made as many copies as possible, sending some to your email address and others on USB sticks Theo had lying around that were empty or filled with useless junk. You chose not to show it to his grieving parents for now because you wanted to enact your revenge before anyone else knew about it.

They should never have fucked with you or your love. If they really thought Theo was the dangerous one, they've never known you.

A sinister grin grew on your lips. As you licked your upper teeth, you felt your mind slipping. No one but Theo knew about your dark side - he helped you calm your murderous tendencies. One day - a few weeks after you started dating him - you just snapped and killed your bully in a nearby forest. Somehow he was there. Theo, instead of snitching on you, helped you get rid of the body; no one had found it until today. A few months later, you found out why, as he showed you his dark side. It was true; he tried to kill Scott through Liam and even instigated Stiles to kill someone even if it was in self-defense, but in your opinion, that didn't give them the right to take your love away, especially since there was no evidence that Theo tried or helped with any of this. He was too clever for this.

But you will ensure that they regret it, including their families. They will all see!

[Masterlist]

#male reader #x male reader #male reader imagine #teen wolf x male reader #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #theo raeken #theo raeken x male reader #sad

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abbysdruidess · 11 months

Text

『★』construction worker!Abby headcanons - nsfw『★』

wc: 0.7k

a/n: praying this doesn't get shadowbanned🙏

❦ serious case of BDE, knows she oozes sex and loves to reap in the benefits of her hard work at the gym. Walks in every room like she owns it, manspreads like there’s no tomorrow. Whenever you two go out in the town she’s always packing, and on the drive home she always links her palm around yours and brings it down her crotch. Can’t help but grin as you let out an audible gasp as you feel the size of the strap that’s going to tear into you later.

❦ comes home from work dirty, muddy but still ready to fuck you in a moment’s notice. During the initial stage of your relationship, she’d make sure to always shower thoroughly before slithering into bed with you for some afternoon delight. Until that fateful day you came home from work all frustrated and pent up, striding to the door and begging for Abby to take you right there and then. Of course, she wouldn’t say no to you; she lifted the skirt of your flowy dress and proceeded to fuck you on the hall floor, bent over the couch arm, front facing the wall, back facing the wall, anyway she could give her cock to you. By the end, your body is covered in dirty handprints and damp with the mixture of your sweats.

❦ needless to say, Abby makes a point of leaving her handprints everywhere she sees fit, has a preference for your love handles and your ass. You love how primal it feels, as though she’s staking her claim on you - not that she hasn’t already. In public, she’s always sneaking an arm around you possessively, bringing you closer to her so that you’re attached to the hip. Keeps you especially close whenever you’re meeting her coworkers, knowing just how brash and forthcoming they could be.

❦ owns the company she works for, she’s too abrasive to work for anyone else. And really, does she love to brag about it, her headstrong attitude in combination with her cocky manner can be a real panty dropper. Has no qualms about fucking you within an inch of your life when she fed you her strap for the first time. It’s a turn on for her to see you limping out of her room in the morning.

“Damn baby, something wrong?” She was slipping on a white wife pleaser while eyeing you from across the room, trying to reach for your red cocktail dress that she threw across the room the previous night. She walks over to you to wrap an arm around your waist, leaving butterfly kisses on your bare shoulder. “You’re walking all funny.”

You couldn't help but groan at her shit eating grin, the way she seemed so pleased with herself as her fingers grazed the smooth skin of your tummy.

“You know exactly what happened to me Anderson” you murmur, knowing that the sleep deprivation was gonna hit later in the day and make your job harder than it already was. “We’re stopping at Starbucks on the way to work, by the way.”

Her hand around your waist completely disappears, reaching behind to gently pat your ass. “Whatever the lady wants,” She shrugs.

❦ her wardrobe consists of cargo pants, Timberland work boots and cut off tank tops to fit her enormous biceps. She attends the gym religiously, and all those hours lifting weights and doing kickboxing have basically paid themselves. Flexes her arms at random times just to get you giddy and blushing.

❦ drives a white pickup truck, and lives in a rather desolate area of the suburbs to avoid complaints about the decibels. Probably got evicted out of a few houses in her early twenties just because the pretties she brought over to crack the shutters with could wake up the dead with their moans. Abby found moaning to be the most natural thing in the world, a passionate proclamation of the overload of pleasure a person was experiencing, and she’d rather commute to the city center every morning than to keep quiet. Grips the headboard like she’s gonna drive it across the wall, because if there’s anything that she’s learned from her job is to always keep a steady hand at your tools.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson headcanons

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rozcdust · 2 years

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Mockingbird

Pairing: Shinichiro Sano x F!Reader

Genre: Crack, fluff

Word count: 1K

Warnings: Canon divergent, OOC, accidental punching, Shin is insufferable

You were born rotten, but he had a chance.

pt. 1 | previous | playlist

Shinichiro waited on you to close the tattoo shop, patiently leaning on the wall of the building opposite the tattoo shop, smoking, running his fingers through his hair every once in a while as he tapped his foot on the concrete, waiting.

Wakasa already left, after getting strict instructions on aftercare and a promise from you that you’ll skin him if he fights before the tattoo heals, and he did not lose any time mocking Shinichiro for deciding to wait for you.

Shin merely shrugged, grinning wildly.

He thought it’d be cute to surprise you, maybe take you out for a drink if you had time, or to just go for a walk.

He missed his girlfriend, after all, even if he just spent 5 hours casually chatting with you.

Were you even his girlfriend? There were no labels established yet, but he chose to call you as such in his mind, sue him, he’s weak and you’re pretty.

He straightened up when you exited the shop, your bag slung over your shoulder as you barely even glanced around you, letting out a long, exhausted sigh as you fiddled with the keys.

Thoughtlessly, and with a large smile, he approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Hi bab- OW!”

Before he could finish his sentence, your elbow connected with his face.

“Ow. That hurt.” He stumbled back, rubbing his now aching jaw, looking up at you with betrayal.

“Shin, what the fuck?!” You fumed, the look in your eyes turning to worry as soon as you saw him staring at you like a puppy.

Cursing softly, you stepped closer, cupping his face in your hands as you observed the spot you hit, softly passing your thumb over it.

“I’m starting to think beating the shit out of me is your love language.” Half joking, half serious, he wiped the tear forming in his eye, riveting in the feeling of your warm, soft hands on his face.

You softly laughed, standing on your tip-toes to gingerly kiss the angry mark on his face, nuzzling your nose into his cheek.

“You know, you’re right, it was my fault for sneaking up on a karate and kickboxing champion.” He shook his head, wrapping his arms around your waist, “This is what I get.”

“Correct.” Nodding, your hand sneaked to his chin, softly tilting it downwards.

His heart raced as you kissed him, sweetly and slowly, smirking into the kiss.

“Apology accepted.” He murmured against your lips, his eyes still closed as he leaned his forehead against yours, and you merely rolled your eyes.

“You are so fucking stupid.”

He grinned.

“I know.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute. With your hair down, that is. When it’s up I just wanna punch you.”

He laughed, shaking his head as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Walk me home?”

“Sure, baby boy, just let me lock up the studio.”

He waited a couple of seconds as you did, turning back towards him with a smile.

“Ready?”

He nodded.

Without thinking, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, grinning as you kicked and trashed.

“SANO! PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW!”

“Nuh-uh! I’m stealing you.”

“SHINICHIRO!”

He eventually did put you down, in front of his damn house, grinning ear to ear as you jokingly punched his shoulder.

“That was horrible.” Shaking yourself off, you crossed your arms, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

“Oh come on, you love me.” He grinned, planting a soft kiss on your temple.

“Blink twice if he’s blackmailing you.” A new voice called out, and you peeked over Shinichiro’s shoulder to observe the speaker.

It was the same tan, white-haired teen you saw cosplaying as a jungle gym for those kids weeks ago.

Shinichiro flushed, annoyance appearing on his face.

“‘Zana! How hard it is to believe someone would date me?!”

“Oh, not at all, we just assumed it’d be Takeomi.” Shrugging, the teen entered the gate to the house, leaving you be.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Guess that’s how you meet my chaotic little brother.” Shinichiro sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

You snickered, glancing back at the house.

“He’s adorable. Looks like a little angel.”

Shinichiro scoffed.

“Izana’s anything but an angel. If nothing, he’s a fucking menace,” Glancing back to find Izana peering through the window, Shin flipped him off, his face softening, “He’s our grandpa’s pride and joy though, always so hardworking, a smart little creature too. Grandpa has a dojo, and Izana is very skilled in martial arts. Don’t tell Mikey that though, he’ll probably try to break Izana’s legs.”

You let out a surprised laugh, smirking.

“Your family sounds like fun.”

“Shut it.”

“No, no, it’s cute that your brother ships you with your best friend.”

“Please, be quiet, I beg.”

“Grandpa, Shinichiro’s girl is outside!” Izana called out as soon as he stepped into the house, taking a few seconds to take off his shoes and leave the jacket by the door.

“SHE IS?!”

Izana didn’t know his grandfather could move so fast.

“SHINICHIRO! WHY ARE YOU BEING SO RUDE?! INVITE HER IN!” Sprinting, an old, seemingly frail man stopped at the gate, taking a long breath as he glared daggers at Shinichiro’s skull before taking a few purposeful steps towards you, taking your hand into his and shaking it, slightly bowing, “Pleased to meet you dear! I’m Sano Mansaku. Come in, come in!”

Awkwardly bowing, you smiled, trying to not burst out laughing as Shin stood behind his grandpa, wildly gesticulating a cutthroat motion with a panicked look on his face.

“I would love to sir, but I haven’t brought any gifts, it’d be terribly rude of me.”

The man shook his head, smiling.

“Please, Mansaku is fine, and no need to bring anything! You should write down dating my grandson as charity enough!”

“GRANDPA!” Offended, Shinichiro scoffed, only to promptly shut up when his grandfather’s face turned serious, glaring.

“Come on in! Anyways, I hear you’re a karate champion, but also trained in other martial arts, I coach judo personally.“

You politely smiled, nodding.

“Ah, yes, I was trained in karate, kickboxing, muay Thai, krav maga, taekwondo and Brazilian jiujitsu. Never got to judo, unfortunately.”

Shinichiro’s face fell just as his grandfather’s lit up, and Shin trailed behind you and his grandfather, noting down the date as the day his own family will replace him.

. . . next

🔖Taglist (open):

@1818cigarettes @nana-phobia @dilf-city @wakasa-wifey @rinsie @kisekihany @missarabellla @bajifairyy @cryszus @r-xochitl @levistiddies @graythecoffeebean @yukihime-mikeys-girl @mukounisuru-gashadokuro @sunahyejin @yamaguccitadashi @minoozi @trashmemebitch @frogtits1 @sup-zfam @whydohumansss @xashiui @bontens-whore @nqctre @lumi-does-some-stuff @hana-patata @hxked @erza-uzumaki @sh4nn @sisnot @soushswag @kneeapartman @anahryal @reiners-milkbiddies @satsuri3su @aretheea @bluerskiees @galactict3a @bontensbabygirl @somniari-94 @astropheia @rgtgt @bubble-dream-inc @princesshaitani @luvjiro @inurmom00 @secretanimesimp @sweeneyblue1 @ameliabs-world @levii-s

a/n: updating this in the club, someone come and save me 😭 also, forgot to mention in the last chapter but y/n’s tattoos represent her and kazutora respectively. hers are black and grey and a rotting skeleton because she sees herself as such, while kazutora’s is colourful and depicting a tiger roaring (yes y/n has like 4 tiger tattoos, she loves her lil bro very much)

#tokyorev #tokyo revengers #shinichiro sano x you #sano shinichiro x reader #shinichiro x you #shinichiro x reader #sano shinichiro #shinichiro crack #izana kurokawa

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spones-in-my-bones · 2 months

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I had a dream where I was watching "the man trap" but instead of the salt monster coming onto the ship, apparently McCoy got "possessed" by the salt monster and when he was possessed he had a jersey accent and a jean jacket (that just magically appeared) and he was like.... Kickboxing Kirk and Spock to fight them.

But the possession was somehow also tearing up his body from the inside out the longer it lasted so there was some nice good whump in there too of Kirk and Spock trying not to hurt McCoy while also fending him off and McCoy just coughing up blood a bit more and more as he's fighting them.

#bless my weird dreams #i may draw this mccoy cause theres s bit more #but its hard to describe #personal #star trek #leonard mccoy #dream #weird dreM

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sorrinslays · 9 months

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My Craig's gang headcanons

Craig is a mama's boy, sorry, I don't make the rules

Clyde definitely has broken at least onε 3DS in the dumbest way possible, like crying and the tears messing up with the machine or by bragging that his 3DS is indestructible, ending with Cartman sitting on it and crushing it in the process

Tolkien's favourite movie is lion king, don't ask, I have no idea why I thought of that

Jimmy reads those "how to be professionally funny" books religiously

Tweek tried a monster once and nearly had a heart attack from stress because he mentally convinced himself it's stronger than the coffee he normally drinks and his body is going to explode from all the caffeine intake

Craig and Clyde have secret hang outs that they (Clyde) named "best bros date" where they talk about their favourite things (space, dinosaurs, race cars etc.) and watch their favourite cartoons

Tolkien for Jimmy's birthday bought him a microphone so that Jimmy can have improv comedy sessions whenever and wherever he pleases

Tweek had to go throught 'trials' to join Craig's gang. Nothing serious, just normal fourth grader stuff, like having him climb the monkey bars in under fifteen seconds or something like that. Needless to say, the poor boy almost had a panic attack and jugged a whole ass pot of coffee and climbed the bars in one millisecond

Craig and Tolkien go to the bookstore once a month and get a book. It's their way of motivating one another to read more

Clyde and Jimmy once (in their late teens) got super wasted and made a youtube video where they told really bad jokes. It blew up and they woke up to a bunch of analyses video talking about how they are the next big step in making comedy better. They remember nothing and only learned what happened through Craig who found it very entertaining

Tweek accidently ate a small rock once and was freaked out for a week straight thinking he's going to die. The fourth grade ended up playing 'funeral' with everyone having different roles. Tweek was the dead guy

Whenever Craig and Jimmy are left alone unsupervised they go to Craig's basement and make videos in which they just talk for hours about the people they hate and they managed to gather a small cult following by just hating on people

Tolkien and Clyde once crashed a car

Tweek wanted to continue boxing after his and Craig's fight but was scared and nervous to enter a club alone. At some point once he becomes part of Craig's gang, he tells that to the guys and, in order to encourage him to join, all of them (-Jimmy because he's in the comedy club) join. Craig and Tolkien go for kickboxing and Clyde and Tweek go boxing

Craig is the kind of person who knows a lot of random stuff and skills that he never mentions unless it's brought up. He's like that one guy on Tik Tok who knows the bird language, the OwO language, the cat language ect. His friends never know and anytime he's like "oh yeah, I know how to speak Latin, don't worry I can talk to this demon to leave us alone," the guys are like "HUH"

Clyde has the entire Dinosaur wiki memorized

When Tolkien first joined the group he spend days researching everything he could find about the others' interests out of fear he won't be able to participate in conversations or something. After a few one on one conversations Clyde and Jimmy figured it out pretty early own because it was pretty obvious, but Craig never did and still thinks Tolkien is genuinely interested in space and Tolkien doesn't want to break the illusion so he keeps researching and talking about stars and planets and everything else for hours with Craig

Jimmy knows Portuguese, I don't know why or how but it seems like something he would do

Tweek and Clyde weren't on the best terms at first because Clyde was kinda spooked of Tweek's tics since he didn't understand them, but overtime he learned that Tweek is a pretty cool dude

Craig loves to cook and clean, it's relaxing to him because he can just go through the notions and end up being productive. His friends have tasted his cooking multiple times and love it.

The whole gang has at some point worked in both Tweak.Bros and mr Donavan's shoe store

Tolkien's place is where they usually have their sleepovers. If for whatever reason they can't go to Tolkien's, then it's Craig's basement cause his parents are pretty chill and nice. They almost never go to Tweek's because his parents freak out the gang

Jimmy once wrote his final exam high on mushrooms and got a perfect score

Tweek never got a driving license because he's too scared of cars

#south park #sp craig tucker #sp jimmy #sp clyde #sp tolkien #sp tweek #craig's gang #craig tucker #clyde donovan #tolkien black #jimmy valmer #tweek tweak #headcanon

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pancrasefighter69 · 3 months

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Two young, tough, muscular kickboxers trying to kick the crap out of each other. The level of aggression and intensity is phenomenal.

These young studs are really tearing into each other with brutal force and vicious striking. Got to admire teens and young fighters who fight all-out to win. These studs will be sore after this savage fight.

#kickboxing #kickboxers #ring fight

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lunapwrites · 4 months

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So I've got a story about chork.

What the everliving fuck is chork, you ask? Well, let me explain.

Be me, having a casual conversation with my partner about dinner options. Realize in the midst we need to go grocery shopping, and start rattling off various meats we're out of: "Ground beef, chicken, chork--"

Record scratch. Partner turns to me, utterly delighted. Oh no. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

I am melting into the stairs, I'm trying my best to deflect from my word soup, and my partner is not having it. He keeps pushing - teasing, with love - and I'm fully cackling. After a few pathetic attempts, I finally manage to squeak out "Chork?"

"Ohhhh okay." He is struggling to maintain a straight face, and he's normally the king of deadpan, but I'm laughing the kind of laugh that catches, so he's fucked. "And uhhhh what's that look like?"

At this point I've lost the plot. I'm literally in a fetal position on the staircase, tears running down my face and laughing so hard I can't breathe. "Like a pig with chicken legs," I choke out. I did mention I've lost the plot, yes? Stay with me, it gets worse.

My partner is doing that weird snorty noise you do when you're fighting for your goddamn life not to laugh. "A pig with chicken legs, huh?" His voice gets really high at times like this. It just sets me off worse.

"S'got wings!" I wheeze, barely, praying I don't piss myself (a greater feat than ever before, thank you.)

"Yeah? What's it doing with those?"

"Not a whole fuckin lot!"

And that was it. That's what broke him. Me, delivering that strangled one-liner through the railing as I'm laughing so hard I sent myself into a coughing fit and sending a tiny thank you to the Bean for not choosing that moment to kickbox my beleaguered bladder. We're both cackling like we've lost our minds, tears streaming down both our faces, and the dogs both start barking for good measure because "noise?? We're making NOISE??? I CAN MAKE NOISE!! I CAN MAKE THE MOST NOISE--"

...Anyway, what I meant to say was pork.

#silliness #bean posting #technically lol #good relationship vibes #look if you can't laugh at your own word salad #you're going to have a bad time #especially if you (like me) do it a lot #and tbh I'd rather have a lot of laughter #and my partner is good for that #lp talks

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bluejaysandblackbats · 2 months

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To Touch Fate

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Jason attempts to settle down in Southern Italy and live a civilian life.

Chapters: 13/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Original Character(s), Bruce Wayne, Terry McGinnis, Matt McGinnis

Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Character(s)

Additional Tags: Angst, Jason Todd-centric, Jason Todd is a Father, Terry McGinnis is Batman, Retirement, Future Fic, Major Original Character(s)

Chapter Thirteen: Four Years Later

Noemi returned to work after a year on sabbatical; from then, time sped by —four years to be exact. Angelo started school in the chemistry program a year prior. Domenico quit ballet and took an interest in swimming and gymnastics. Cecelia started taking singing lessons on top of ballet, while Katerina put all her time and effort into ballet and kickboxing. Dario took to reading, but he only spoke when prompted. And Claudia. Claudia had Jason and Domenico wrapped around her little finger. Noemi didn’t mind it, though. She smiled every time she caught Jason and Domenico sneak an extra candy to her or read her another story past her bedtime.

Angelo spent most of his free time at the community center’s gym, reading to Dario or visiting Noemi at work, so he rarely had time for Domenico. Domenico struggled with his brother’s newfound busyness. He turned all his time and attention to Claudia, who seemed to cherish every moment they spent together.

Dario seemed to withdraw from the world at a young age with little explanation. Jason didn’t push him or pry for an answer, but he knew something was wrong. Jason spent most nights curled up in Dario’s bed, and when Dario slept alone, Jason had nightmares of his own. Noemi would wake him if she were home, and sometimes Angelo or Domenico would creep into the room and lay beside their father until he calmed down.

This night was no different. Jason lay in bed, tossing and turning while Noemi was away. He started having nightmares about Bruce. Domenico woke first, gently opening the bedroom door as he climbed underneath the covers. ”Papá?” Domenico whispered. Jason didn’t stir.

“I’m sorry… Bruce,” Jason mumbled.

“Papá,” Domenico repeated in a slightly louder voice. Jason turned on his back, clutching his chest, startling Domenico and bringing him to the brink of tears. “Papá!”

Jason sharply inhaled as he saw Domenico’s tear-filled eyes in the dark. He sat up, pulling Domenico into his arms. “I’m sorry, Dom. I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jason apologized profusely. He rocked Domenico. “Papá, are you sick?” Domenico cried as he held onto Jason’s arm. Jason shook his head.

“No… No, I’m not sick. I’m worried about something, but don’t let my worries become yours. You can go to bed if you want. You don’t have to stay with me —.”

“I want to, Papá,” Domenico reassured him. Jason loosened his grip on Domenico. “I’ll never leave you. No matter what.”

Jason choked back a sob. “Dom, your life is yours. I’m here to love and guide you. I know you love me, but it’s okay if someday when you’re grown up—. It’s okay to leave home. You wouldn’t be abandoning me or your mamma,” Jason explained.

“I don’t want to leave. I’m going to stay forever… Even when I’m grown,” Domenico replied. Jason lay beside his son, collecting himself. “Are you worried about Darius?” Jason nodded. “It’s school. He doesn’t like it.”

“How do you know?” Jason asked.

“He told me. Darius is worried you won’t let him sleep with you anymore if he tells you,” Domenico explained, “He has nightmares about you and Mamma leaving him at school and not returning.” Jason frowned.

“Dom, you know you guys will never be too old to do anything with me, right?” Jason asked. Domenico nodded. “You’ll always be babies to me.”

Angelo knocked and entered Jason’s room. “What’s wrong, Angel?” Jason asked.

“Papá… I can’t go to school tomorrow. I’m sick,” Angelo whispered. Jason motioned for him to come close while he took Angelo’s temperature.

“You usually don’t like to tell me when you’re sick… What’s wrong?” Jason asked. Angelo sat on Jason’s other side.

“I’m dizzy,” Angelo whispered. Domenico stormed out of the room. “Dom—. Papá, he hates me.”

“No. Dom doesn’t hate you. Dom adores you,” Jason corrected. Jason sat up while Angelo lay on his lap. Jason slipped Angelo’s bonnet off and touched his scalp between his braids. “You’ve got a high fever. Are you achy?” Angelo didn’t answer. “ Achy… In pain. Are you in pain ?”

“A little. Papá, I didn’t—. No, you don’t understand. I said something hurtful to him, but I couldn’t—. I can’t take it back,” Angelo explained.

“What did you say to him?” Jason questioned.

“I told him he could never understand how I feel because he looks white,” Angelo confessed, “He’s not going to forgive me.”

“Wait, what happened that prompted you to say that?” Jason asked. “Is something going on at school?” Angelo didn’t answer. “You don’t—. Angioletto, if you don’t tell me... I’m going to find out. You have more control over the outcome of a situation when you can communicate how you feel. I’d rather let you be an active participant than go behind your back.”

“Papá, it was one bad day—.”

“That’s all it took to put a rift in your relationship with Dom. Was it a kid or an adult?” Jason asked. Angelo closed his eyes.

“Nico,” Angelo answered. Jason nodded. “Don’t—.”

“I won’t make a scene, and I won’t threaten him… Outwardly,” Jason interrupted. “I’ll be civil… But I need you to fix things with your brother. Explain why you said what you did. Tell him you love him because I know you love Dom.”

“I will, Papá,” Angelo replied.

“Thank you… And I was hoping you could talk to me when things bother you. I may look busy, but I’m never too busy to talk to my children. Don’t ever forget that. I’ll let you sleep right now, but I want you to remember that I’m your papá before I’m anything else,” Jason reminded him. Angelo didn’t say anything else. He lay still until he fell asleep, while Jason sat up, thinking about his sons’ troubles. He texted Noemi about Angelo’s temperature. Angelo jerked awake, and Jason shushed him, carefully slipping Angelo’s bonnet over his head. Jason’s phone vibrated, and he answered Noemi’s call.

“Is he asleep?” Noemi questioned.

“Yeah… Did you know about his problems at school?” Jason asked in reply.

“What problems?” Noemi asked.

“I’ll talk to you when you get home… But I want you to come with me when I handle it,” Jason whispered, “How’s work mia amata?”

“Saved a little boy tonight. I lost him for ninety seconds, but we got him back… So, I’m having a great night,” Noemi replied, “Are you alright? Still having nightmares?”

“I’ll be fine,” Jason answered.

“Dolce metà,” Noemi whispered, “When I get home—.”

“Child in the room,” Jason interrupted.

Noemi groaned over the phone. “I’ll make you some tea when I get home in an hour?” Noemi offered.

“Okay,” Jason whispered, “Emi, you don’t have to worry about me… It’ll pass.”

“I don’t worry about you… I love you. There’s a difference. I know you’ll be fine, but I’d rather see you comfortable. Do you understand what I mean?” Noemi asked. Jason stared at the ceiling, smiling at Noemi’s words.

“Emi, I love you,” Jason whispered, “Everything wonderful in my life exists because of you. I don’t—.”

“Giasone di Giovanni, if you say you don’t deserve me, I promise you you’ll live to regret it,” Noemi interrupted.

“I was gonna say I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Jason chuckled. Noemi laughed.

“Save a kiss for me,” Noemi replied.

“They’re all for you,” Jason grinned, “See you soon, mia amata.”

“See you, dolce metà,” Noemi whispered before hanging up. Jason didn’t sleep. He watched over Angelo, repeatedly checking his temperature and pulling the blankets up as Angelo kicked them off.

“Angioletto, why are your fevers always like this?” Jason mumbled.

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ms-revived-frogs · 2 years

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Andrew Tate Rape Culture in Schools

Hey gyns, just wanted to share this article.

Teachers, girls call out Andrew Tate influence as rape threat revealed.

Girls as young as 10 are being subjected to daily sexual harassment in schools, with one group reportedly offered cash to make porn films.

Female teachers and girls as young as 10 are being subjected to daily sexual harassment in Sydney schools, with some teachers so frustrated they're considering walking off the job.

As leadership in some of Sydney’s private boys’ schools warn parents about the dangers of their sons watching internet personality Andrew Tate videos, young girls are being joined by female teachers in speaking up about shocking sexual harassment.

Some teachers have reported being called a “c**t” on several occasions, while others have had been told sexual explicit jokes by boys as young as 10.

The alert has been sounded by schools after The Daily Telegraph revealed a misogynistic, homophobic and anti-Semitic chat group created by a group of Knox Grammar students.

Tate, a controversial international influencer and former professional kickboxer, has been criticised for his views on women, including that they should “bear some responsibility” for being raped.

In videos shared rampantly on TikTok, which thousands of Australian children have access to, Tate espouses that women “belong in the home”, “can’t drive”, and are a “man’s property”.

He was banned from Facebook and Instagram, where he had racked up five million followers, in August.

Scots College’s head of students James Bowles warned parents about Tate’s viral videos that had clocked up billions of views on TikTok in a newsletter to parents last week.

He cautioned that students were at risk of being influenced by Tate’s rants advocating violence against women, the illegitimacy of depression and “a slew of other insensitive and uneducated opinions”.

Trinity Grammar deputy head Bradley Barr also issued a warning about Tate, saying his “reach probably extends into many of your homes and to the social media feeds of many of your sons”.

Collective Shout movement director Melinda Tankard Reist, who has been talking to students and teachers in public and private schools across Australia over the past decade, says the stories are getting worse and the children are getting younger.

Along with female students as young as 10, Ms Tankard Reist said female teachers were reporting disturbing sexual harassment from young boys, with some being brought to tears.

The speaker, writer and media commentator said female students were in “deep distress” over Tate’s influence.

“For the last few months around the country, without exception, they will ask me: Will the boys be spoken to about the influence of Andrew Tate?” she said.

“They want to know what’s been done to expose his harmful teachings.”

Girls are reporting that boys are treating them “more harshly, more aggressively,” she said.

“They’re expecting that they should be able to, quote unquote, put girls in their place, that girls are lesser than them and don’t deserve to be treated,” Ms Tankard Reist said.

“I have girls telling me that boys expect to be able to show constraint and strangle them.”

Ms Tankard Reist has no doubt the problem is getting worse.

“So what grades 5 and 6 girls are telling me used to be what the senior girls told me,” she said.

“They’re telling me that boys are threatening to rape them.

“Three girls, two weeks ago, told me – they were all 14 to 15 – that boys have threatened to rape their mothers and sisters if they didn’t send naked pictures.”

She also reported that a group of year 7 girls were offered cash by their male peers to make “porn films for them and their mates”.

The women and girls advocate said other female students had told her that they had been subjected to sexual moaning, grunting, groaning noises boys make in class, in the schoolyard and on the school bus since they were in grade 2.

“This turned into female teachers describing being subjected to these noises as well and I’ve had more female teachers this year tell me they’re leaving the profession because of this,” Ms Tankard Reist said.

“Two weeks ago, I was in the Maitland region. They were telling me that every day they are subjected to being called the C-word by boys.”

Another teacher told Ms Tankard Reist that she overheard a 12-year-old boy ask another boy, ‘How do you know you’re having sex’?

“The other 12-year-old boy replied, ‘When she starts to cry’.

“I’ve had young female teachers in tears telling me what it’s like to be propositioned by boys,” she said, reporting that one teacher had caught boys trying to take photos up her skirt under the desk.

The teachers said they were having difficulty punishing students for this behaviour, reporting a lack of backing from the education department.

“I’ve had school principals, one of whom came out of the Defence Force and went into teaching, tell me that he found teaching harder than when he was working in the Defence Force because he said even when students are in danger, he’s not allowed to suspend or expel them,” she said.

Some of the stories Ms Tankard Reist and her team have recorded from female teachers are posted on the Collective Shout website.

“I’ve been sexually assaulted by two male students, one in grade 10 and one in grade 11 in my second year of teaching (I was 25),” one teacher said.

“It was an awful experience and I didn’t feel supported by the all-male leadership team at all.”

Another reported that a boy in year 6 class began humping the floor and moaning, with the deputy principal dismissing the behaviour as “age appropriate” and “normal”.

“It infuriated me that the behaviour was considered ‘normal’ and was thus not dealt with by leadership,” the teacher said.

“In my opinion, we’ve done these young boys a huge disservice by not addressing and redirecting these behaviours.”

Another woman, who was contemplating moving into the profession, amid massive shortages in the industry, says stories like this have deterred her.

“I thought leaving a construction industry (dominated by male egos, gender pay gaps & gendered promotions) would mean my dignity and sexual harassment would be less of an issue,” she commented.

Ms Tankard Reist said teachers feel “hamstrung” about reporting sexual harassment, with some considering leaving the profession because of the lack of protection.

“I’m not blaming the boys. My view is that a sexist culture grooms sexist boys, and Andrew Tate is part of this grooming process,” she said.

Ms Tankard Reist said the most popular type of porn videos and content shared among young boys was “rape porn, torture and sadism”.

“And then everyone’s surprised at the behaviour of these Knox boys,” she said.

“Why are you surprised?

“The global porn industry is that the biggest department of education in the world.”

The expert has also joined a growing list of psychologists and educators calling out platforms like TikTok as dangerous entities, saying they’re “fuelling violence against women and girls”.

“They bring together boys, they encourage boys into this herd mentality, this pack mentality, they give them a sense of belonging,” she said.

One ballooning online phenomenon that has come under criticism recently is the “incel” or “involuntary celibate” community, a subculture of people, mostly men, who define themselves as unable to attract romantic or sexual partners and express their anger and frustrations online.

Ms Tankard Reist called the growing community “both a repository of these harmful ideas … they broadcast these harmful ideas and draw more boys in, especially disenfranchised boys who always are looking for a tribe”.

“We are struggling to raise happy, healthy, resilient, emotionally literate, empathetic, young people,” she said.

“We're driving the empathy, especially, out of boys.”

Reading through this just made me depressed. And of course the article focuses on the boys, and not the girls who are literally going through human rights violations at prepubescent ages. It seems every time women make some steps, they’re rolled right back. Roe v. Wade being overturned, Andrew Tate being a rulebook for young boys. Every time I feel like maybe boys and men might respect us, I’m let down. It’s apparent now that men might never really respect us, seeing as how easy it was to have even the younger generations turned against girls and women - all with the power of social media. It’s also apparent that for true gender equality, boys need to be kept under strict regulation on what they watch. Lord knows the type of men these boys will grow up to be.

#my post #rape culture #misogyny #andrew tate #sources

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