#top gun summer there will never be anything like you ever again

[calkale]

every theatre should have a copy of top gun maverick at all times

[crappymixtape]

because of you • part two

PART I • PART III • PART VI • PART V // REQUEST -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+  | ( 3.3k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

B E C A U S E O F Y O U • P A R T T W O 🎶 theatre, etta marcus

❝ IS IT EASIER WHEN YOU DON’T HAVE TO START AGAIN? WHEN YOU DON’T WANNA MAKE AMENDS? ❞

‘Stealing a Winnebago’ had been easier than you’d assumed, but the getaway execution went exactly like you thought it would. Absolute disorganized chaos and the way Steve peeled out of the trailer park dumped you into Robin’s lap for the first mile. Made you even more skeptical of whatever half-assed plan these people had frankensteined together and now? You found yourself browsing the clothing section of The War Zone.

What in the hell were they thinking coming here anyway? From Eddie’s retelling of what happened under Lover’s Lake it sounded like not one of them knew anything about hand-to-hand combat, let alone guns. Couldn’t even land a punch, but thought they could handle this? Walls of rifles on display, rounders full of bulletproof gear and cases upon cases of bullets and god, you wanted to leave.

“Hey,” Nancy’s voice pulled your attention away from the tactical vests you were staring at, her eyes wide and earnest as she looked over at you. “If I go over to the counter, you gonna be okay?”

“Oh, totally,” you lied. “Yeah, was gonna go look over here anyway,” and you thumbed over your shoulder at more vests.

“Okay, good.”

She gave you a small Nancy-Wheeler-smile and left you there alone in a sea of camouflage. In the middle of a store you’d never have set foot in before all this and making you second guess yourself. Second guess what was seemingly more and more a stupid decision to go along with all of this and you huffed a sigh in frustration.

“Should’ve stayed in the trailer,” you grumbled under your breath, fighting the urge to just walk out, but apparently you weren’t the only one wandering around all the puke green clothing.

“Huh, didn’t know you had good ideas.”

The sound of Steve’s voice made your hands ball into fists, nails pressing half moons into your palms.

“Do you ever have anything nice to say?” you sneered and he had the audacity to be so causal. Didn’t even look up from the tactical vests he was flipping through and tossed one into his cart.

“Not to you I don’t.”

Anger rose in your chest like a pot boiling over, so hot it made your cheeks burn as you glowered over at him.

“What’s your problem?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yep,” and still he didn’t look at you. Picked a bomber jacket off the rack and piled it on top of his vest and it was the last straw.

Stalking over to his side of the rounder you got right up in his face, dug a finger into his chest and said, “Liar.”

His eyes flickered at your accusation, sardonic smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he looked down at you and warned, “Don’t say things you can’t prove, Princess.” And he leaned into your finger. Waited for you to fold. Tsked at your attitude and the sound of it triggered a memory so strong you felt like you’d been sucker punched.

Your second ever interaction with Steve Harrington happened the week before summer break.

You heard it while you were walking back to school from grabbing lunch at the diner. A high, sharp whistle followed by car horn and then—

“Owwww, damn baby!”

And you recognized the voice right away.

Tommy Hagan. Leaning out the passenger window of Steve’s BMW. Wolf-whistling at you and being a dick and you tried to ignore them, but then they were pulling up next to you and slowing way down.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Tommy purred at your back, your mouth twisting into a scowl at the sound of Eddie’s nickname on his tongue. “You need a rid–” he started to ask, but his question cut short when you turned around.

Mouth dropped open in shock for a split second as he realized who you were, Tommy quickly recovered and started to laugh. That obnoxious, hyena-like laugh that made you want to punch him and he smiled and whistled again.

“Shit, Stevie! Who knew the freak had an ass on her!”

“You kiss Carol with that mouth, Tommy?” you shot back, Steve stifling a snicker from the driver’s seat.

“Bet you could do for a kiss, baby,” Tommy tsked, pouted his lips at you and grinned, “Always so damn sour.”

“Yeah? Wanna find out why?” you threatened and it made Tommy grin even wider. Shark-like. Predatory.

“Park it, Stevie,” Tommy didn’t bother looking at his friend, eyes locked on you as he opened the passenger door and jumped out of the car while it was still moving. Walked right up and crowded over you, eyes narrowing as he leaned in, “And what if I do?”

Your stomach lurched, heart leaping into your throat as you stood your ground. You didn’t think he’d take the bait, but you also didn’t shy away. God, you wished Eddie was there. Tilting your chin up in defiance you glared him down.

“Tommy, c’mon man. Just leave it,” you heard Steve’s voice from over Tommy’s shoulder, tinged at the edges with desperation as he ran up on the two of you, but Tommy couldn’t have cared less.

“Well? What’re you gonna do about it, toots?��� Tommy pushed again, toes of his shoes knocking against yours as he stepped even closer, towering over you and it hit you like a ton of bricks how in over your head you were.

“Tommy, just leave–”

“I didn’t ask you, Harrington!” Tommy snapped and you took the opportunity.

Grabbing a fistful of his shirt in your hands, you yanked Tommy down into you and drove your knee into his crotch as hard as you could.

“Oh, fuuuuck,” he choked out, folded in half and hands covering his junk as he dry heaved and you took a big step back.

“Coward,” you turned and hurled the word at Steve and watched it land heavy as his face shifted. Brows pinching together and mouth dropped open, but nothing came out as he struggled to say those two little words. I’m sorry. To tell you he wasn’t like his friend, but his silence betrayed him.

“You bitch,” Tommy grunted at you as he tried to straighten up, one hand still over his crotch.

“Don’t move! I’ll–I’ll get you expelled!” you threatened and it made him laugh. A mean, mirthless thing.

“No fuckin’ way. My mom’s on the school board, who’s gonna take your side?”

And you looked back at Steve for a split second, silently asking him to step in and do something, but he stood frozen in place. Still unable to go against his ‘best friend’ and what little belief you had left in him was shattered.

You were done with Steve Harrington.

Shaking your head, you fought back the tears burning at the corners of your eyes and ran up the path to the cafeteria doors. Disappeared behind them with a loud, metallic slam! and left Steve alone to drown in the deafening silence.

Don’t say things you can’t prove, Princess.

It was like no time had passed, like you were still there in that parking lot with Tommy towering over you and tsking at you just like Steve was doing now, but this time you didn't run away.

“Don’t call me that!” you shoved at his chest and he stumbled back a step.

“Don’t call me a liar!”

“All you do is lie, Harrington! Your entire life was built on lies,” you could see his pulse fluttering against his neck. Watched his jaw tick as he clenched down on the words he wanted so badly to throw at you, but you didn’t give him a chance. “Why are you even here? You don’t give a shit about Eddie. You don’t give a shit about anyone, you’re–”

“Enough!” you flinched as his shout drew the attention of a couple older guys looking at the hunting gear. “You don’t know anything about me, okay? Not a god damn thing,” and the second part was quieter, but they way he held your gaze after punctuated it heavy.

He turned away from you, hastily pushing his cart back toward the cashier counter and walked out the double doors, but you weren’t about to let him have the last word.

“Hey, I’m not done!” you shouted after him across the parking lot. Sharp and biting and it made him spin back around, arms flung out at his sides in exasperation.

“Oh, yeah? Fine. What else you got?”

“Well, for one, I’m not going to sit here while you lord around like King Steve. This isn’t high school. No one here gives a shit about any of that.”

He squeezed his eyes shut at his old nickname. Sucked in a breath and let it out slow to try and steady himself.

“I’m not like that anymore.”

“Seriously? Do you hear yourself? You’ve been a dick to me since I set foot in Max’s trailer! And honestly? I’m not surprised! You think I don’t remember all the shit you put me through, put us through in school?” you shot back and he opened his eyes to glare over at you.

“Like I said, Princess–”

“I said don’t call me that!”

“–you don’t have any idea what this is. What we’re up against. None. You’re in over your head.”

“Okay? And what, I’m supposed to sit here on my hands and say, ‘It’s fine! Steve Harrington and all his little friends will fix this’?? You’re out of your mind!”

“And you think you can?” he shot back and your heart rate thrummed heavy in your ears.

“You know, Eddie says he trusts you now, but hell if I will. No fucking way,” and as you turned and cut past him back to the Winnebago he had to jog to keep up.

“Hey! Eddie almost killed me! With a fucking beer bottle!”

You huffed a laugh and kept walking, shaking your head at the accusation and incredulous at the lengths he was going to prove his point.

“Why should I believe you?” you called over your shoulder, “You’re probably just gunning for a headline: Steve Harrington, Hero of Hawkins!”

“Headline?? I–are you kidding me? You think I’d do all this for a headline??”

And finally you stopped at the bottom step of the Winnebago and Steve seized his chance.

“You really think I’m that superficial?” he shot at your back, but you didn’t turn around. Didn’t even acknowledge him and he spent what little patience he had left. “Hey! I’m talking to you!”

But you were already gone. Frozen in place with the world growing dark. Tree line ahead of you blurring. Unfocused and liquid like water and the ground swam under you as a voice echoed in your mind.

I see you.

The sound of Steve still talking behind you turned to fuzz, crackled like radio static and faded away into ear-splitting silence. Deafening and swallowing you whole and then you felt it. The ground falling out from underneath you and you were drowning in the dark and the voice that echoed in your mind pulled you even deeper.

Resisting will only make it worse.

❝ AND I NEVER HAD A TASTE FOR LIARS OR THE UNIQUELY UNINSPIRED ‘CAUSE I DON’T NEED TO BE DESIRED ❞

Steve glared daggers at your back. Anger hot and fuming and fueled by the fact that you had the nerve to ignore him and god, he wanted to prove you wrong.

“Are you trying to piss me off? Cos its work–” but the words died in his throat as he came around to face you. “Oh. Oh, shit,” with a quick glance over your shoulder he saw everyone else finally coming out of the store and he didn’t wait to call for help.

“Munson!! Eddie!” Steve yelled over your shoulder at your best friend before grabbing your shoulders in his hands and squeezed at them. Leaned down to try and meet your unfocused, far away gaze and when none of it worked he felt his chest grow tight.

Not again.

“Hey, hey! Look at me!" panic clawed its way up his throat as he shook your shoulders, "Stay with me! Munson–hurry up!”

Your eyes were glazed over, tears gathering at the corners as your whole body started to tremble. Breathing stuttered and caught in your throat. Lips parted and trying to pull air in, but it wasn’t enough and Steve felt his hand twitch. Wanted to press it to your cheek to try and ground you, reach you and bring you back, but then Eddie was finally at your side and shoving Steve out of the way.

“Sweetheart! Can you hear me? Shit, shit, shit. What happened?? Honey? Look at me!” Eddie cradled your face in his hands. Did what Steve couldn’t. Voice ratcheted up, his usual low timbre a high pitched thing driven by fear and hearing it doused any remaining anger that had settled into Steve’s chest and replaced it with something else.

With helplessness. Regret. Remorse.

With the slow realization that everything he’d just said to you wasn’t worth it. Remembered how Nancy had yelled at him, just like you, outside of the gym. You’re bullshit! And his throat squeezed with guilt for messing it all up again because he was bullshit. He was a liar and you were right. Had he learned nothing?

He looked at you, your face contorted with fear, and he felt something new flicker within him. A feeling blooming at the pit of his stomach. One he was so certain couldn’t possibly exist when it came to you, but as he stood there watching Eddie try to shake you back from the dark he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Steve, help me!” tears cut down Eddie’s cheeks as he called to him and pulled him hurtling back to Earth. Desperate. Pleading. Begging him to do something and it shook Steve back into action.

Heart pounding in his chest, adrenaline coursed through Steve's body and fought off the fear that had threatened to trap him in choke hold.

“Max, gimme your Walkman!” he shouted over your shoulder.

The rest of the group had started running back to the Winnebago as soon as they’d heard yelling and when Steve asked for the cassette player, Max knew time was running out.

“Shit,” she hissed under her breath and broke into a sprint, scrambling to untangle the headphones from around her neck as she hurried to get to you. “Here! It’s still Kate Bush, is that–”

“Doesn’t matter–Munson get these on, hurry!” Steve, snatched the Walkman from Max and crammed it into Eddie’s outstretched hands.

“Please, please, please,” fell from Eddie’s lips, desperate, praying that this would work as he fitted the headphones on and pressed them against your ears, “Please.”

Blinking heavy, you strained your eyes against the black. Against the suffocating dark you suddenly found yourself in. The stand of vivid, green ash trees lining the parking lot replaced by gnarled branches, dark and leafless. Bright yellow buttercups snuffed out by thick, wet vines that snaked their way across the ground under your feet.

You weren’t in the parking lot of the War Zone anymore, not really, and as you breathed in the sickly, ashen air your heart stopped in your chest.

The Upside Down.

“Eddie? Eddie!” you shouted into the dark, red lightening cracking the sky in two, and when no one answered you knew you were utterly alone.

Panic gripped you like a vice as you thought of Chrissy. Of Fred and Patrick and dread filled your stomach. Utter hopelessness and grief and when you whipped around to run you felt something tangle around your leg. Wrapping up, up, up and pulling you down, down, down.

You braced for it, ready to break your fall with your hands, but you never hit and instead found yourself lifting into the air. Unhinged laughter filling your ears as more vines snaked around your arms and legs and you swore you were going to be sick.

It was

Him.

“Why isn’t it working?? God dammit, work!” Eddie was yelling at the Walkman, his composure unravelling as Chrissy’s last moments flooded his mind. “Is she gonna die? She can’t die!” he pleaded and his voice cracked, a sob caught in his throat, “Please don’t let her die!”

“Hey hey, hey! Get a hold of yourself. That’s not gonna happen, okay? It’s gonna work,” Steve gripped Eddie’s shoulders, looked him in the eye and tried to reassure him, but when he glanced over at you he knew he couldn’t make that promise. “Please work,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Where are you going? You can’t leave. Not yet.

Vecna’s voice was everywhere. Flooding every part of you and you feared you would never feel joy again. Would never escape this. Would be stuck here forever screaming into the void, hanging on Vecna’s every whim.

I would like very much to show you where I’m going. Please, take a seat.

And the vines yanked you down, squeezed tight around your wrists and legs and held you fast against the ground, rocks digging painfully into your back.

“Please, let me go!” you pleaded into the dark. “Please, I–” but your mouth went dry as a shadowy figure appeared through the ash. Coming closer and closer in the dark with each heavy step and when it finally stopped, feet at your head, your blood ran cold.

Wet, sinewy skin. Muscles exposed and stretched taut. Eyes that pierced your mind and knew every single one your thoughts. Knew all the dark things spiraling there and made them worse. Clawed at you with spindly, protruding hands and long, dagger-like claws and suffocated you with the smell of something rotten.

Of decay.

Of death.

Reaching a hand down, Vecna held it over your face, inches away from touching you as you struggled against your restraints, but they constricted tighter with your every move.

“Please,” you were crying openly now, tears cutting paths through the ash that had settled on your cheeks, but he ignored you.

I want you to tell your friends, I want you to tell them everything you see. Everything I show you.

“No, please!”

Tell them!

“No, I can’t–”

Tell them everything!

And then your head felt like was being cleaved in two. White hot light fracturing the black sky into thick shards and your screams were the only thing you could hear as Vecna pried open your mind and poured into you his vision for the future...

Hawkins in ruin.

Four gashes in the earth. Cavernous. Hot and angry and full of fire.

Your family. Lying scattered across your lawn. Motionless and still and limbs bent wrong.

Tell them!

Your friends hanging in the air just like Chrissy, Fred, Patrick.

Eyes empty, slack-jawed and lifeless, bones snapped like twigs.

Tell them!

Eddie and Robin and Nancy and Steve and–

“NO!” you screamed, the sound pulled painfully from your lungs as you felt your legs give way and collapsed into yourself.

“Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”

Steve scrambled to grab hold of your shoulder and barely caught you before your bare knees hit the pavement.

You heard birds chirping. Sunlight filtering through the backs of your eyelids as you kept them squeezed shut, but the air was clean. Smelled fresh and as you slowly opened your eyes you realized you weren’t choking on ash anymore.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Steve was still holding onto you, your hands pressed into his thighs as you braced yourself, the feeling of nausea overwhelming.

“I saw him,” you whispered, only Steve could hear you and you started to cry.

“Him?” Steve asked unnecessarily, glancing up at Eddie. Hoping, no praying, if he asked maybe you’d give a different answer. One that wouldn’t involve death and the end of the world and everything hinging on this stupid fucking plan, but he knew.

Everyone knew.

Eyes glued on their feet. Arms folded over their chests and uneasy with the weight that had settled over the group.

“Vecna.”

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART TWO OF A – POSSIBLY – FIVE PART SERIES, PART FOUR AND FIVE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[vintagemulti]

rainfall

pairings: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x pilot!reader

desc: you’ve always had a thing for your best friend. this mission didn’t help.

warnings: this is quite long😵‍💫, swearing, sex references and innuendos, alcohol and drunkness, death and family member loss, dissociation mentions, i know NOTHING about pilots/flying sorry, this WILL be a series !!!

a/n: someone tell me to stop making series. i beg. this is my little writer brain not being able to watch anything without making a character WHOOPS. anyways, i’ve not seen the first top gun. so. cannon? who? we don’t know her. also i hate called bradley rooster i can’t work out why but i’ll only refer to him as it when flying. soz.

series masterlist

masterlist

you had been in bali when you got the call. you and bradley, in bali, relaxing. but who ever said naval pilots get to relax?

it was something you had gotten far too used to, having to pack up your things and get the first flight back to the states. sure, you had been the one to chose this career and the disruptions you faced were consequences of your own actions, but you had really - really, really - hoped that you didn’t get called up when you did.

two weeks in bali with bradley bradshaw, the highlight of your year. it had been planned for almost a year, which was saying something. normally you and bradley would say you’d do something, and it would never actually end up happening. but no - this vacation had went ahead, and you’d had six days of utter bliss before the dreaded number showed up on your phone.

bradley had been phoned right after you, his reaction being about the same. annoyed, upset but somewhat excited. what the fuck was all this about? both you and him being on the same mission?

and so you had packed all your stuff and made your way back to california, dropped your bags off at your separate apartments and rushed to put together an emergency bag, with your uniforms and workout clothes inside.

that took you up to now, sat in the passenger side of bradley’s new range rover, forty minutes into the drive back to the naval base on lake tahoe. it wasn’t far away now - only ten or so minutes, but the sun was beginning to slowly dip it’s head, ever so slightly.

you were still dressed in your summer clothes, a tight, black dress with white lining and held up by a strap around your neck. it was low cut, a little lower than you’d like for the first time meeting your other teammates, but there wasn’t any time to get changed.

bradley was dressed in the same way, tight white tank top covered in a hawaiian shirt, nude-coloured cargos covering his thighs. and, of course, his aviator glasses. was it really bradley without them?

he turned into one of the roads leading to the hard deck - a bar frequented by everyone within a mile vicinity - and you turned to look at him, right as the sunlight hit him. golden rays washed over his skin, his collarbones shining and under his sunglasses you could see his brown eyes - turned like honey in the light.

you thought he looked beautiful, but you’d never tell him.

“this better be good,” he spoke, breaking the moment of silence. “that hotel cost a fuckin’ fortune.”

rolling your eyes, you nodded. “you’re lucky i remembered we get travel insurance. who was it that was determined we didn’t, again?”

“oh, shut up,” bradley said, but you could see the outline of a smirk on his mouth. “no one ever told me we get that.”

“lies!” you laughed. “they put it in the ads, that if you get called up while away, they pay you back whatever you lost.”

it was bradley’s turn to roll his eyes. “alright, miss ‘i always read the fine print’.”

“at least i can read,” you joked back.

electing to ignore the snide comment he made back, you reached into the passenger side compartment, searching for your own sunglasses - feeling nothing. you looked around the car, sighing in defeat as you realised you must have left your pair at home.

spotting another pair of aviators on the dashboard, you picked them up. “can i borrow these?”

bradley looked at what you were referring to, almost laughing when he saw his spare glasses in your hand.

“go ahead, sugar, i won’t need ‘em.”

putting the sunglasses on, you pushed down the butterflies in your stomach that flew around with the pet name.

the hard deck came into view, looking busy already. it was so loud - you could practically hear the music playing from the jukebox all the way out here.

“takes you back, huh?” you asked.

“that it does,” bradley pulled into a parking spot. “feels like yesterday we were here last.”

“wrong,” you undid your seatbelt. “yesterday we were in a five star villa in bali.”

opening the car door, you stepped onto the concrete, your heels clicking against the ground. why did you wear these again? good god, it would be a long night. bradley joined you, walking towards the front door of the bar. it was so loud now - it was like you were already inside.

he pulled the door open, letting you in first. fireworks exploded all over your body as his hand moved around your waist, letting him manoeuvre himself to be standing next to you. you let him take the lead to where the rest of your team appeared to be, and you watched him walk - his swagger that was just so fucking hot almost making you forget you were stood completely still.

most of the faces you recognised - actually, you recognised all of them. pheonix, hangman, fanboy and payback we’re speaking to bradley, and someone you had recently been introduced to was the first person to notice you.

“rainfall! hey, how’s it going?” bob smiled at you, the other people snapping their heads to look at you as well.

“yeah, alright, how’re you?” you answered, him nodding a reply.

“wow,” hangman spoke first. “both rooster and rainfall arrive late, not in uniform? been busy, you two?”

“about as busy as your mum, hangman.” you retorted, those around you letting out a surprised laugh.

“that’s not the most important question,” pheonix tilted her head. “what the hell is this? what can they possibly be trying do here?”

you furrowed your eyebrows, prompting her to go on; “well, we’re the best there is. who the hell can teach us?”

the question took you by surprise - but it wasn’t irrelevant. the only briefing you had was this was a training program for an intense mission, and only those who had came top of the top gun class would be accepted, so, pheonix was thinking right. who could possible teach the best pilots out there?

a bell rang throughout the bar, interrupting your thoughts. everyone cheered, knowing exactly what the bell meant.

“poor guy,” rooster mumbled. “i’m going to the restroom, get me a drink?”

you nodded, walking over to the bar.

he wasn’t recognisable at first - he looked so different. but it was the eyes that gave it away, he was still young behind the eyes.

“it’s you, then.” you mumbled, taking the empty spot next to him at the bar.

maverick looked at you, realisation hitting when he clocked who you were. “nice to meet you, rainfall. i’ve heard lost about you.”

“so have i.” looking at him, he wasn’t the man you had built up in your head. he looked nicer.

sighing, maverick nodded slowly. “i thought that’s who you came in with.”

“he won’t want you to teach him, you know that, right? you… you ruined his life, maverick. his mum’s, too.” you said, although you knew it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard a million times already.

“yep,” maverick clicked his tongue. “i thought that would be an issue.”

“he hates you.”

“i know.”

bradley might have hated maverick, but you didn’t. sure, he was an arrogant ass from what you had heard and he destroyed your best friends family, but you personally had nothing against him.

penny walked over to you, interrupting your conversation with her greetings.

“wow, y/n, you’re here too? damn, what a mission.”

“hey, pen,” you smiled. “i know, i know.”

she raised her eyebrows. “must be serious, huh?”

you raised your hands in defence. “i have absolutely no idea what this mission’s about, swear.”

humming in response, she changed the subject; “what’re you for?”

“uhh, a blue WKD for me and the house beer for brad.”

she nodded, looking at the man next to you. “he’s paying, by the way.”

you almost laughed, turning to maverick. “unlucky son of a bitch. you better take a loan out, maverick.”

“how was i meant to know the rules, huh? i’ve not been here in god knows how long.” he grumbled.

both you and penny chuckled as she served your drinks, taking one in each hand and moving away from the bar, you turned to look at maverick again.

“mav,” you called, and he looked around. “good luck.”

he smiled, nodding. you would admit it would be hard work for him, and it must be difficult to teach the boy who’s father you watched die. but then again, he could have declined the job.

spotting bradley, you walked over to him and handed him the glass of beer. he thanked you, face contorting in disgust as you noticed what you were drinking.

“i don’t know how you stomach that stuff, sugar, it’s all sweetener.”

“says the man who threw up after three of them. they’re only like, three percent as well.”

bradley narrowed his eyes. “all sweetener.”

laughing, you walked with him to join the rest of the group. your feet already began to ache with every step you took, straps digging into your ankle. god - it would be a long night.

-

if you were counting how many drinks deep you were, you’d have used up all your fingers. you’d been here for a few hours, at least, the sun was almost setting now.

you could see it from the small window in the bathroom, the blur effect on the window turning the sunset into just colour. you didn’t need to pee or anything, just a minute. it was a fair assumption to say you were an extrovert, and loved to be around people, but the noise of the crowd in the bar had become slightly too loud, especially as maverick had just been thrown overboard.

the sound of a piano playing came muffled through the door, followed by a familiar singing voice. it made you smile; hearing bradley drunkenly scream out ‘great balls of fire’.

washing your hands and quickly drying them, you walked back out of the bathroom and into the crowd, thanking the girl who had been holding your drink for you. you walked towards the piano, seeing bradley completely in his element.

“kiss me baby, ooh! that feels good, good!” he sang, everyone joining in.

leaning against the piano, you joined in, the lyrics coming as a second language, this song was practically indented into your brain.

as you sang, you watched bradley’s hands hit every note perfectly, his fingers tracing the keys with a gentle-harshness, something that just about set you off. a man who was good with his fingers? lord have mercy.

he looked at you, as if on cue, smiling as you sang out the words. bradley took a spilt second to remove his hands from the keys, gesturing to his lap.

you tilted your head. he can’t be serious, can he?

“sit!” he called, hands going back to playing the instrumental section.

maybe it was the drinks you’d had, influencing your system. but it took you the whole of two seconds to decide to follow his order, slipping under his arm and placing yourself down on his lap. people around you whooped, especially the ones in your team. had this happened before? you couldn’t remember through the tipsy-horny-lovesick haze that had clouded your vision.

bradley’s leg bounced, making you laughing against his chest. when he started singing, you joined in with him, your voice coming out as more of a tuned shout compared to bradley’s angelic singing voice.

“kiss me baby,” you looked up at him. that second you made eye contact - that whole second - felt like an eternity. it felt like no one was watching, thay for once the love that remained behind your eyes finally appeared behind his, too.

or maybe that was the vodka shots talking.

“ooh! that feels good, good,” he sang.

you looked away, staring at his hands once again while you sang the words. if you had kept staring, you would have seen the way he looked at you while he sang; “i’ma tell the world that you’re mine, mine, mine, mine!”

if you had seen that, you probably would have melted on the spot.

the song came to an end, everyone cheering for bradley’s fantastic piano performance, yourself included. you fell against his chest, laughing like a schoolgirl. he laughed too, taking his hands off of the keys to embrace you.

was this normal for best friends, you wondered? did everyone do this when they were drunk? the answer: wait and find out.

“i’m gonna get a drink,” you smiled at him, finally standing up.

“alright, darlin’, get me a beer?”

“god,” you feigned annoyance. “one day you’ll pay for your own beers, bradley bradshaw.”

you walked away before you heard his mumbled comeback; “yeah, our wedding day.” but, even if you hadn’t walked away, what would you have done?

walking to the bar, you leaned against it, ordering with penny for the god-knows-how-many-th time that night.

“thanks,” you smiled.

“is that a tan line i see?” penny asked, pouring out a beer.

“yep,” you popped the ‘p’. “i was in bali with brad, was supposed to be there until next week.”

“oh,” she sat down one of the glasses. “but you got called up?”

nodded, you took a drink of bradley’s beer, instantly regretting it. “fuckin’ hate the navy sometimes.”

penny stopped in her tracks. “oh, y/n, did i just hear what i think i did?”

your eyes widened. “no, penny, please, i’m seriously broke right now, i’m begging-”

the bell ringing cut you off. hanging your head, you felt multiple people clap your back.

“oh, no, what do we have here?” bradley appeared at your side, laughing.

“this one,” penny giggled. “was insulting the navy.”

bradley exaggerated a gasp, putting his hands over his mouth. “no!”

“yep!”

“tut, tut, tut, lieutenant l/n!” he joked.

you raised your middle finger in response.

“honestly, rooster,” penny was half way away, walking to serve another customer. “get your girlfriend under control!”

the heat rose to your cheeks, head snapping up. luckily for you, you were ninety-nine percent sure that bradley didn’t hear her, but when you were sober, you’d have to tell her off about almost spilling your decade long secret.

“my god, brad,” you walked away from the bar. “i’m gonna be so broke tomorrow.”

he giggled, a sound your drunk mind would have registered as the trumpets of heaven, the best music in the world - every lovely sound put together. god, how in love were you?

“come on, rainfall,” bradley led you to the table the group were all sat at. “the night is young!”

-

there’s a saying, if you had a dollar for every time this happened, you’d be rich. well, if you had a dollar for every time you’d gotten blackout drunk the day before the first day of training and had to get up at the crack of dawn, you’d have slightly too many dollars. every time, every single time.

as you sat, shoulders straight and hair tied ever so slightly too tight, the commander speaking about something you weren’t properly listening to - the thought of about seventy aspirin was popping into your mind, almost soothing your headache with the sheer thought of it.

footsteps came from behind you, but you didn’t turn around. you knew who it was. instead, you looked at bradley, who was sat in the chair next to you.

as his eyes fell on maverick, you noticed the way his whole smug demeanour fell - for just a moment. you then noticed how he put those walls straight back up, clenching his jaw and shifting in his seat. he cleared his throat, making eye contact with you and raising his eyebrows.

looking away, maverick started speaking.

you must have been truly hungover, because from the second maverick opened his mouth to right now felt like it went by in a blink - you couldn’t tell if you had dissociated the entire time or if you weren’t interested enough to actually pay attention.

zipping up your flight suit, you smiled to yourself. this was your first training exercise for what seemed to be an impossible mission. getting in and out of a thin passage within a minute and a half seemed unrealistic, but compared with the insanely low hard deck and the pull up? you’d be lucky if you made it out alive.

a few planes were already in the air as you stepped onto the tarmac, helmet in hand. looking to your right, you saw two planes, to your left; pheonix and bob doing push-ups.

the exercise was simple; don’t get caught. if you do, you have to do two hundred press ups.

you had almost laughed when maverick set the exercise, how insanely easy it sounded. unfortunately for maverick, he had never flown with you before - he hadn’t quite learnt the meaning of your call sign.

radio chatter sounded from your headset as you climbed into your plane, spotting bradley on the tarmac as well. everyone had insisted you two went last - the top two of the class. even hangman bit back his ego for two seconds to admit that you had finished top of the class, so you should go last.

that’s right, you came top of your class. one of the best pilots of the last decade, apparently. it had earned you quite a reputation, pilots almost always recognising you wherever you went. you were some kind of a legend.

buckling yourself in and triple checking your belts were secure, you pulled your helmet over your head, and your ears were filled with radio chatter. bradley got into the plane next to you, doing the same thing.

“when are we ready to take off, mav?” you asked, closing the top of your plane.

“any time now, rainfall.” he replied.

it was a feeling you always craved, taking off. as a little girl, you used to love going on holiday, just because when the plane would take off and your stomach would turn, it made you smile. from that moment, and from the moment you saw the pilots in all the different documentaries, you knew you wanted to fly planes.

just in a little more extreme way. a way, way more extreme way.

gaining speed, you clicked the needed buttons and flipped the right switches in order to take off, and the tarmac got smaller and smaller as you flew higher into the sky. hearing bradley take off a few moments later, you knew the game was about to begin.

you knew this would be personal for bradley - getting beaten by maverick. anything maverick did to him, it would be personal. you prayed he would be able to separate the pilot from the person, just for a minute.

“good morning aviators,” maverick spoke. “ready to play?”

“oh you are on,” you smiled, still gaining height. “old man.”

bradley laughed over the radio, making you smile even wider.

“for everyone listening over the radio,” you spoke. “get ready to listen to the best flight of your life.”

down on the ground, the rest of the team laughed.

“ready?” maverick asked. “three, two, one… the game has begun.”

you understood the purpose of this exercise - dogfighting. to watch out for yourself while attacking at the same time. playing both offence and defence.

seeing bradley slip into your peripheral, you looked around for the other plane. still gaining height, you hoped to god that your technique would stay reliable.

everything felt like a blur - you were flying so fast, so high, nothing felt real. keeping your eye out for maverick, you swerved through the clouds.

“all alright, rooster?” you hated calling him by his call sign. if felt so… impersonal, weird.

“all good here, rainfall. you?”

you nodded, even though he wouldn’t see it. “no sign of him.”

looking down, you could see bradley underneath you and to the right. he wouldn’t even notice you, if he hadn’t learnt to always look up.

“oh hello, you,” he said, the smugness seeping through the radio.

“hello, rooster.” you smiled.

as you stared down at him, a second plane came into view, far enough away that bradley wouldn’t notice him.

“rooster, on your left!” you called, swerving away as soon as you said it.

“shit,” he mumbled, and you could see him fly away.

“language, folks, come on.” maverick laughed.

“alright grandpa.” you joked back.

looking below you, you could barely see the two planes dogfighting, but from the small glimpse you got, it wasn’t looking great for bradley. maverick was too fast.

“hurry up, rooster,” you spoke your mind. “he’s faster than you.”

“yeah, thanks for that observation.” he grumbled back.

“cheeky.”

from your point of view, the dogfighting was getting even more intense, bradley constantly being tailed by maverick. you hoped once again, that bradley didn’t take this too seriously.

a dial tone broke your thought.

“and rooster, you are out.” maverick spoke over the radio, making you sigh.

“fuck you.”

and there it was; all of your proof that bradley had taken it personally. fuck, this would be a hard one to calm him down from.

“ready to fight, rainfall?” maverick said, and you could almost see his smirk.

pushing everything else in your mind to the side, you let the calm, slightly arrogant side of you take control.

“do you know why my call sign is rainfall?” you asked, already spotting maverick below you.

“i suppose you’re going to enlighten me?”

you let a beat of silence pass, making sure you were in the right position. it was obvious maverick was looking for you, but you were at least fifty feet above him, slightly in front of him. why did no one ever look up?

“or not?” maverick added.

“because,” you paused, gripping your gearstick a little tighter. “rain always comes from above, and you don’t see it until it’s on you.”

with those words, you descended with absolutely no warning. as you came closer to maverick, he seemed obviously surprised, fumbling for a moment to move out of the way so you didn’t fall straight into him.

“jesus, kid,” he mumbled.

“did you know that i came top of my class?” you pulled back up without hesitation, g-force pushing you back ever so slightly.

“yeah, i read it somewhere,” maverick was flying parallel to you. “i wasn’t too of my class.”

“oh, i know,” you somehow managed to keep your tone casual. “iceman, right?”

maverick hummed over the radio, obviously too focused on getting you out.

but your technique was working perfectly. descend on them, climb up, and when the least expect it….

pulling away, you circled around maverick, seeing the outline of a target appear in your helmet. he hadn’t even realised what you had done.

a dial tone sounded through the radio silence, everyone on land holding their breath - even bradley.

“you,” a voice cut through the radio. “are out. good game, maverick.”

the people on ground cheered almost loud enough for you to hear all the way up in the air.

“what the hell?” maverick was in disbelief. “what?”

“i’ll see you on ground, mav.”

-

the sun was already setting by the time maverick had finished his press ups. he must not have taken in personally, offering to buy you a drink for how well you had flown.

but you didn’t want a drink, you were too concerned with other things. it had been hours since the training had ended, and bradley was still outside, doing press ups.

you walked onto the tarmac, out of your flight suit and in casual clothes, the figure of bradley noticeable - everything still apart from him.

he was shaking, sweating, almost sunburnt. the most noticeable thing was his red eyes, they were so red you thought he must have burst a blood vessel.

“bradley?” you called, getting closer to him. he didn’t answer.

walking right next to where he was, you sat down. sat, right on the hot tarmac - it heated up your legs. “bradley, please,” you called again.

this wasn’t new - for him to do exercise until he just about burst. some people punch walls, some people drink - bradley worked out. maybe it was just as unhealthy as every other coping mechanism.

his arms were so shaky, he almost couldn’t even keep himself up right. you wanted right then and there to take him into your arms, let him cry his heart out and tell him that one day - one day in the future - it will get easier.

as if he could hear your thoughts, he stopped. collapsed onto the ground, arms finally giving in. you could hear him, choking out sobs between breaths - it just about broke your heart.

“come here,” your fingers brushed his arm, and it was like he just needed the instruction to do so, because he moved into your arms and clung onto your shirt, just like a baby.

you didn’t care where you were. no one was looking, anyway. everyone went home or went elsewhere hours ago, you and bradley were most likely the only two people left there.

“what is it?” you cooed, gently running a hand through his hair.

“he- my dad, he- maverick-” and that was all he had to stutter out for you to understand.

“i know, i know,” you bent over him, almost encasing him in your body. kissing his head, you repeated the phrase over and over again.

it was in that moment that for the second time in twenty four hours you thought to yourself - is this normal for best friends to do? it is, right? like, you would do it for any of your other friends?or maybe that’s what you liked to tell yoursef to deny the simple fact;

you were in love with bradley bradshaw, your best friend.

[fastcardotmp3]

stranger things au where when it's all done, instead of the general fandom usual of NDA's and cover stories, those guys at the NINA Project figure out a way to use that same technology that brought El's memories back to instead wipe the memories of anyone involved in saving the world/ anyone who saw anything abnormal and replace them with the mundane.

It's the only foolproof way to make sure that none of That gets out, to make sure that no one decides to go poking around again 10 years down the line or write a book or a song or a movie that hits a little too closely to the truth, and the government loves themselves something that seems like a foolproof plan.

But what does this mean for our heroes? They don't remember the circumstances that brought them together, only the cover memories that were inserted in their place. They don't remember why they care so deeply for one another because a summer scooping ice cream or a walk through the woods or an-- impromptu game of baseball???-- doesn't quite line up with how it feels.

It feels bigger than that. It feels--

There are explanations for Steve's scars, he remembers a big dog and a trip to the ER, he remembers getting in a car accident and the seat belt coming loose enough to get stuck across his throat instead of his chest. He remembers-- blood on his hands, blood on his clothes, the outline of a man torn half to shreds--

He remembers a bad trip with Robin, but sometimes Robin will say something and it's-- when we got drugged- took those- when we uh, y'know tried LSD that time?-- fuzzy because of the bad trip of it all.

It's easy to accept the truth as the truth, because he remembers. It's easy, for years, to let the truth be the truth, to forget entirely that there are pieces that don't make sense, that there's no reason he should be as close with Dustin Henderson as he is because wait how did we meet? over a missing cat? It's easy, to just let it be true, because the love is there and that's what matters.

The love is there for a year and two and five and ten and Steve's life isn't always easy, in fact he's gone through his fair share of therapists for the insomnia none of them can explain, the confusion that both him and Robin talk about sometimes in the dead of night but can't remember talking about in the morning.

Eddie gets medicated for some sort of psychosis for a while because he had years of these intense night terrors that he could never explain to people, screaming at the top of his lungs, but the minute he would try to tell a shaking and terrified Steve or Robin or Nancy or whoever was present what it had been about he would just sob with frustration because he couldn't remember.

Max has a condition which made her lose her eyesight rapidly as a teenager, who has chronic pain that no doctors have ever found a real cause for despite Steve dragging her to appointment after appointment with fierce protectiveness in his eyes and voice, a desperation that there has to be a reason.

It's easy to accept it as the truth, that they all gravitated towards each other because they're all just a little fucked up in unrelated ways. That they connected to one another because oh you get scared sometimes too? scared like I do? scared like no one else understands?

Lucas starts spontaneously sobbing when some Kate Bush song plays on the radio in 1992. Can't explain it except that it hurts.

Nancy goes to a shooting range and feels her hands go steady for the first time in years in '93. She's never shot a gun before.

El Hopper had a traumatic enough childhood that doctors say she likely won't ever remember all of it, that her brain is protecting her, that-- that's probably true. They're doctors. They know better than Steve, they know about everything except why Max's legs hurt so bad she can't move sometimes.

They know everything except why Eddie can't feel pinned down without having a visceral belief he's dying.

They know everything except why Jonathan swears that their old house used to be painted a different color in the living room.

There are explanations for Steve's scars. He remembers a big dog.

Sharp teeth. Snarling.

He's in his thirties when he kisses Eddie Munson for the first time, because they're fucked in the head in the same ways, because no one else has ever gotten close enough to see the scars and hear the screaming and feel the desperation and not suggested maybe you need bigger help than I can give.

He's a grown man, and it's easy to believe the truth of his past, easy to think that growing older means it's supposed to be a little fuzzy around the edges, and that's okay because this feels bright and clear and technicolor, this thing with Eddie who has run away and come back half a dozen times but always does come back.

Whether he goes to Seattle or LA, New York or Boston; whether he and Steve are in the same place at the same time for more than a couple of weeks, he always comes back, they always find their way back to each other no matter where in the world, except--

Except there.

Everyone left that town with a haste-- or was it one at a time? No, it was the Byers first to California, except-- didn't Will graduate from that school? No. Because El went to school in Chicago at the same time that Robin started college there and she helped Will apply to the Arts Institute and--

And it was Max who went to California-- no, she was from there, but she also-- did she go back?

And why does Steve remember the house he grew up in but the minute he tries to step outside the back door onto the patio in his mind, out by the-- with the blue light and--

"Have you ever been back?" he asks Eddie one day, 32 years old and living in Chicago now full-time together. Robin's just down the road, Nancy's at the Tribune, Argyle has been franchising that coffee shop of his, is opening a spot here in town near his friends who he met when--

"Back where?" Eddie trails his hands through Steve's hair, laying half on top of each other on the couch and listening to some old tape of Jonathan's.

"Where we're from."

Eddie's fingers slow to an almost still and Steve props himself up to watch the way his brow furrows in concentration.

"Why would we go back?" he asks, and Steve has this flash-- like they've had this conversation before.

Like they've talked about where we're from before, although the name of the place never crosses their lips.

"I dunno," Steve slumps into Eddie's chest. They're getting older though so maybe just, "nostalgia?"

"Are you feeling nostalgic?" A rediscovered rhythm to gentle nails across his scalp. Soothing.

"It's where we met," Steve says. It feels true, although when he thinks about it-- "remember? How we met?"

"I..." Eddie's jaw clicks. It does that sometimes, on the same side with the scar.

There are explanations for Eddie's scars too-- a drug deal gone wrong, too many guys with too may knives-- or was it broken beer bottles? They used those as weapons, yeah. Tattered clothes and tattered skin and blood on Steve's hands--

No. He wasn't there. Blood on-- it was Dustin who found him? No. Wait, it was Wayne. Wayne found him, yeah, exactly--

"We met there," Eddie's gripping Steve's hair now, by the root. "We met back there. High school. Do you want to go back?

"Why would we go--"

Steve startles himself with the words, like they just-- like they weren't a choice to say, like they said themselves, like--

"Ed."

Breathing is tight. Steve sits up straight and looks at him. Scars on his face. Eyes so big and deep they hold endless histories--

"Eddie, do you want to go visit-- visit, uh, you know?"

"Why would we--" Eddie claps a hand over his mouth and hums out a sound of frightened discontent. "What. What the fuck."

"How did we meet, again?" Steve swallows. Eddie stands up, paces to the other side of the apartment.

"High school."

"How in high school?"

"Steve, I stopped taking those meds because they didn't help, but this isn't helping me not feel fucking certifiable either--"

"Eddie, I don't remember."

"Okay, so we're getting old!"

"We're not even middle aged!"

Eddie stops where he stands, shakes his head, and Steve watches him because it's easy to watch him, easy to look at the life they've lived and accept that they found each other, fell in love, because no one else gets what it's like to be fucked in the head. To know what's true and still feel wrong in that truth.

To believe it and still get lost in it.

Eddie clenches down on the tremble of his jaw and his eyes go big and imploring.

"What's happening, Stevie?"

There are explanations for all of it, but no one has ever been able to explain Max's pain or Nancy's sharp-shooting or Robin and Steve's inability to get drunk without losing it or the color of the paint in the Byers' old living room in that fucking town that Steve can't even think the name of--

"I'm calling Robin," he says, already striding across the floor. "I want to go back."

There are explanations.

Maybe that's not good enough anymore.

[billys-pretty-babe]

The Angel

Pairings : Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : 2 years have passed since Billy was used as a host for the Mind Flayer and as soon as he recovered, he went back to California where he met you.

Picture from Pinterest

Warnings : Swearing, Karen Wheeler mentions

Word Count : 1.2k

A/N : I couldn't find a gif of him on the floor of the sauna but to me it always looked like ripped away angel wings.

You had always noticed the scars that littered his body, especially the identical large scars on his shoulder blades. Billy was insecure around you at first before he warmed up to you and now he's more than willing to take his shirt off around you, hell he hates the feeling of shirts, claims he's allergic to them.

It was summer time in Santa Barbara, the fan in your room on the highest setting and the two of you lounged around. "We should go see Top Gun." Billy looked at you and scowled, "No, you just want to see Tom Cruise shirtless." You rolled your eyes, "I'm sick of shirtless men," you said, poking fun at him.

"Oh really," your boyfriend asked as he flexed and the scars became slightly more prominent. He never talked about them but Billy noticed the way you looked at them, you never stared, you were taught that staring was rude and disrespectful. "I got these in Hawkins." You nodded, "That's the Indiana place right?" He nodded and laid down, resting his head on your black pillow.

"There was creepy shit in that town, like supernatural shit." You nodded and held his hand. "Um, it was during the summer, I can't really remember the date but I think I was fresh eighteen and I was a lifeguard at the community pool." He furrowed his brow, trying to remember some of the details, sure he had been told about things but he still tried to fill in the gaps on his own.

"There was this mom, Karen was her name, I was going to meet up with her one night at a motel six and on the way to the motel, something hit my car and shattered my windshield, it was a spiderweb shatter. I was at this abandoned warehouse and I was dragged down the stairs by this shadow monster thing." He looked at your face, trying to gage your reaction, ready for the laughs, claiming that he was funny for coming up with an absurd story but it never came.

He was met with soft eyes, eyes that were on his face trying to look for any signs of discomfort. "It did something to me, I can't remember, no matter how hard I try. I had trouble going to work because it didn't like the heat and my skin would burn and I'd get these black veins all over my body." He swallowed the lump in his throat and you rubbed his knuckles.

"It fed off energy so I gathered people, um my co-worker Heather, I don't know what happened to her afterwards. The scars on my back are from a fight in a sauna against this freaky little girl, she was friends with Max." You nodded, knowing who Max was. "They never healed, I'm not sure why. July fourth came and I don't know if you ever heard about it, probably not, I doubt it made the news here but the mall burned down." You nodded, "I heard about it, they said there were two casualties." Billy nodded, "Obviously there weren't, actually, I'm not sure about Hopper but that freaky kid, her name's El or Jane, the kids called her both."

"I was going to sacrifice her and she did this weird shit and got into my head and I felt human again for the first time in a while, even before I got turned into that weird monster. I didn't want anything to happen to her so I was going to sacrifice myself, Max was in the mall with her friends. I was horrible to her and I felt like it was the only way to show her that I cared about her. The monster hit me, here, here and here," he said as he pointed to the scars on his chest, sides and abdomen.

"Apparently someone closed the gate or whatever, I don't remember what they called it but basically, the shadow monster wasn't able to penetrate deep enough to kill me, that's how I got all of these scars." You nodded and looked at each one. "I'm sorry," you said and he looked at you. "What're you apologizing for?" You shrugged, "I don't know, I just feel like I should be sorry. Sorry that it happened to you, I don't know." Billy shook his head, "If none of that happened, I wouldn't be here with you so I guess in a way, I'm glad it happened, Just wish I didn't have the physical reminders." You nodded.

You traced some of the scars, "Your back scars remind me of an angel." He raised a brow, "Baby, I'm far from an angel," he said flirtatiously and winked at you making you laugh at him, your cheeks heating up at the reminder of the previous night that was spent with him. "They remind me of angel wings, like they were taken from you." Billy looked at you before laughing, "You're so cheesy." You groaned and flicked his nose and he laughed as he scrunched it.

"Too bad I can't call you Angel since you already call me that." Billy laughed, "Yup, it's taken, can't be used." You both laughed and he opened his arms for you to lay on his chest and you gladly got comfortable on him, putting your head under his chin. "B." He hummed, "Do you wish you could go back to Hawkins?" "No, I'm glad I got out of it. I wish I could see my sister but she'll be eighteen in a few years, she writes to me a lot plus she's coming to visit in July. She wants to meet you." You smiled against his neck, "You talk about me?" He laughed, "Yeah, of course I do, sent her one of our polaroids too. She thinks you're pretty." You smiled.

"She did mention that when she visits in July she doesn't want to hear happy screams. Whatever that means," he said, acting clueless. You both laughed and he held you tightly, you noticed he did that a lot more lately. He yawned loudly and dramatically smacked his lips and you laughed at him. "Wanna stay the night?" "Is your dad gonna try and chase me over your fence? I can't jump over it again, I ripped a pair of my pants doing that." You bit your lip, trying so hard to keep the laugh in.

"He's in Arizona for business. Won't be back until August and mom has the night shift." He nodded and leaned over to turn off the lamp as he pulled the sheet over your body, knowing that if he got too hot, he would start to panic. He felt your hand search for his and he felt you smile against him as you intertwined your fingers. Your breathing evened out and he let out a happy sigh, he was healing, the physical healing was done and over with a year ago but he was mentally and emotionally healing from everything he's ever gone through.

He still hasn't talked about his dad but maybe he will, Baby Billy still needed to heal after all. You held him slightly tighter in your sleep and he knew you were dreaming and he smiled and kissed the top of your hair before shifting a little and falling asleep with the moonlight being the only light in the room.

[romanestuffsposts]

Hi, i love your one shots, could you please do one where little reader is 6 years old and gets kidnapped by the red room,daddies stuckyare destroyed emotionally,but when she is 13 and already has a very dangerous skill set they found her and try to rescue her but like she refuses with a knife/Gun, but they eventually do ,happy ending and fluffy ending, pls your stuff brings me comfort.

Hi there love! 💜

Thank you so much! I'm sorry you had to wait, i hope you like how i write your resuest!

Enjoy <3

****

Warnings : mentions of kidnappings, knifes and guns, red rooms, rescuing, fights, fear, pet names, comfort, kisses, fluff

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : all they ever wanted was to have you back, now they have the chance to get you and they won’t let that slide

****

It was a peaceful summer night, the bird were singing and the sun was disappearing behind the trees, letting out a beautiful colour shining through them.

The night was beautiful, the day went perfectly fine and everything was telling them that the rest of the week would be as perfect as that day.

But once your Daddies came back home from a nice dinner with workers, they weren't prepared for that. The house was a complete mess, the lamp was broken on the ground, the tv still on, the only noises was their own steps and their breathing. The babysitter was laying on the ground of the living room, signs of attacks clearly visible.

Your Daddies immediately went to the tower after checking the house a million times and with the help of Tony, they got a hand on the footage. What they saw broke their hearts. The footages clearly show men breaking in the house and grabbed you.

Natasha said she reconized the uniform, the bracelets and the guns. It was the red room.

They spent lots and lots of time working on your rescue. All days and all nights your Daddies were working their ass off to get you back. They couldn't sleep, they couldn't eat, they couldn't do anything other than working and working.

When they came home, it was quiet, your giggles and footsteps not there anymore. It miss them so much, they miss being greet by you after work, they miss taking you up to a bath or staying in the living room to watch a movie. They miss dancing and laughing in the kitchen while cooking all together, they miss the playful moments you all had.

They miss you. SO much it hurts. That's why they never let you down, they will get you back, it doesn't matter how and it doesn't matter the price to get you back. They will.

~

"be careful, you don't know them but I do. They're unscrupulous" Natasha warns as they wait beside a door, their back against the walls.

"Not as much as us" Steve says in a venom voice.

They decide to just go inside the three of them for now. The rest of them are outside, breaking into their footages and just waiting until somebody needs them inside.

The plan isn't to destroy the red room, they will, of course but not today. They needed a bigger plan which means longer time to get everything ready and they clearly don't have that time. And the last thing they want is to put you in more danger than you already are

"Rogers ?" the headset says "don't go in just yet, there's people circuling in that hallway. I'll tell you when it's clear"

Tony tells them to not answer when he or Bruce talks in the headset because it could be dangerous to speak in there. Nobody knows where the enemy can be.

Steve sighs a long breath of stress through his mouth and rests the back of his head against the wall behind him. Bucky peers at Steve and rests a comforting hand on top of Steve's.

He mouths a little 'It's okay' before kissing his hand. They never, never were that anxious about a mission before, but again, the old missions didn't had anything to do with you.

They felt like they failed you by letting you down. They were sared you would think they won't do anything to get you back to them and just curled more on yourself and just drop your strength.

"it's clear" Tony said through the headset.

Both men open the door and walk through it first, following by Natasha who protect their back. "we had comfirmation that there's a training group in the tird door on your right, right now. We can't have their face though" Bruce informs "so be careful"

Bucky grabs the handle and is waiting for his friends to join him. When Steve and Natasha comes to him, Natasha steps before Steve and nods at Bucky.

This one open the door and Natasha enters, following by Steve and Bucky who are closely behind. Once they're in the room, their eyes gaze everbody in the room in hope to find you but you're not there.

Natasha is on her way back to the door with Steve while Bucky is glued to his spot, looking at all the girls training and acting like robots. Steve looks behind him and takes a double look when he sees Bucky is still far away from the door.

"Bucky" he whispers really quietly "Bucky let's go before they notice us" Steve was scared to bring Bucky with him, because, even though it wasn't exactly the same, he knew Bucky would think about hydra and his years there.

And he can't blame him, everything in here remind him of that place.

"We can't risk to be seen Bucky, think about her. She's waiting for us" Steve says. Bukcy turns his head toward Steve, an expression he can't tell on his face "our girl is waiting for us, Bucky. Let's go get her and bring her home"

He sucks in a breath and nods his shaking head. Steve grabs Bucky's hand and leads him outside of the room. They close the door and go to keep making their way down the hallway when they hear a voice

"I advise you to stop walking and to drop your weapons"

They freeze in their spot. It couldn't.. right ?

Natasha elbows Steve who were beside him, she was the only one who turned around after hearing the voice. Steve takes a breath and turns around, making Bucky turning around too.

"Baby ?" Bucky's weak voice isn't doing anything to you.

You glare at the three of them, a glare empty of emotion "drop your weapons" you order again and they do "baby ?" Bucky calls again

"stop calling me that." you snap "turn around and walk now" you nod at them.

Instead of turning around, Steve takes a step forward "you don't want us to do that" he softly says, shaking his head.

You narrow your eyes at them "walk or I call back up" you warn. He takes a steps closer again "you don't want to do that either. Because you would have done it already either way"

You tight your teeth and swallow. Why does this man has that much power over you ? Why are you listening to him ? You should have shot them already like with the others but.. you can't seems to be able to, why ?

"I got this" Bucky's soft voice sound from behind Steve. You shift your gaze to Bucky who's behind Steve but keeps your gun up, pointing at them and that girl.

He grabs something from his bag and your face fell at the thing he has in his hands "it's.." he clears his throat "it's Bucksie" he softly says, steps toward you too "you remember him ?"

You look at the stuffie and look back at Bucky, a little lost about why you're feeling like this right now

"it's yours, little one"

This name..

"do you remember how you met him ?" Bucky asks taking another step "I was mean to you that night, I gave you a hard punishment you didn't deserved and we gave you Bucksie because I was so scared you wouldn't be near me anymore. I wanted you to have something that remind you of me if I wasn't there because of my acts" he looks down at Bucksie, regrets all over his face "i didn't want you to forget me"

You lower your gun through his talks so now it's on your side as you look down at this Bucksie, he calls. "you used to fall asleep with him all the time, you couldn't lie on the couch without him or closing your eyes if he wasn't in your arms, even though you were in ours" he smiles a little at the memories.

You frown and take it from his hands, making him look up at you with hope in his eyes. You thumb caresses the spot where there's the stars resting on the top of the grey arm, you gaze it absently.

Everything is so weird.

You look back at them with tears in your eyes and Steve immediately reaches Bucky's spot. Natasha stays behind to give you the space you need.

"sweetness ?" he gently calls. You shake your head as tears start to fall down your cheeks "do you remember us ?"

Why is everything feel so loud all of a suddent ? Why is everything feel so overwhelmed when you were feeling empty of emotions seconds ago ? What the hell is happening ?

You sniff and nod your head. Your Daddies goes to hug you but you take a step back, stopping them in their speed. They look at you with confuse eyes as you sniff again "what's wrong ?"

"I can't- What if they're watching ? I- I don't want you to get hurt because of me" you cry "if i leave with you, they'll come back. And I don't want them to come back" You break down

Your Daddies's eyes soften and they come back toward you to hug you, and this time you don't pull back. You let them embrace you with all the love you missed.

"we'll get you out and never, never will let them come back for you, babydoll. We promise you" Your Daddy softly whispers in your ears. Just before hearing people running toward them.

Let's the game begin..

~

The come back was really full of emotions! Just as you step in the jet, everyone came to you and even though you were happy to see them and to have their attention on you it was still very overwhelming.

So when you came home, your Daddies carried you upstairs because they knew you would be really tired. You were happy to see that they didn't touch any of your stuffs, everything is just like before, nothing has change and it make you feel so safe. You didn't realized you needed that.

They spent the whole evening taking care of you, they asked you if you wanted a bath and when you said yes they were careful about being in there with you.

They, of course, asked you if you wanted them to be there and once again you said yes so they came but they were careful to not make you feel uncomfortable.

After that, your Daddy puts your body cream on you, just like before and you couldn't lie, you really missed having this massage every nights before bed. It's so relaxing.

Your Papa helped you putting your pyjama on and then promised you to watch cartoons while you fall asleep. Another thing you miss so much.

They already have an appointement tomorrow with the doctor to check you. When they noticed you were unharmed, from what they could see, they decide to go to the doctor tomorrow and spend the night with you, getting you more comfortable about going back home and making you feel safe again.

"are you tired, little one ?" your Daddy asks as he trails his fingers in your hair. You shake your head but yawn at the same time making him chuckle "it's okay to fall asleep, sweetie" your Papa says with a loving smile.

You shake your head again "don't wanna sleep. I'm scared to wake up and see you're not there and everything is fake. I don't want to go back there when I woke up" you mumble, snuggling closer to them.

They gladly comfort you, they knew you would need extra attention because of everything that had happened and they are more than ready to give it to you.

"Look at me, beautiful" your Daddy gently says, his fingers tilting up your chin "we're not going anywhere, baby. Our place is with your and yours is with us. We'll be there when you'll wake up and it'll be the same for all the other mornings" he reassures you

"just close your eyes, baby" he kisses your nose "and let us take care of you"

[almostgenerallyalways]

tgm fic recs

@stcverogers tagged one of my fics in a rec list yesterday and i thought it was such a good idea, i wanted to share some of my own favs

in no particular order:

* * *

hangman 

one time thing // kiss the sun (fight the fire) // love that’s a real long shot  He nods again like that’s exactly what he expected you to say. “I think you’re wrong. Doesn’t matter now though, does it?” i would rec anything by @callsignvalley but this is probably the series that got me most. i also love tailspin and its rooster follow up steady

california coast in your green eyes // i’ll carry my bags just until i can hold you again (2 different series) Bob’s older sister gets the news that his plane went down during a training drill, and shows up at the hospital at the same time as an arrogant pilot. //  Six months after they break up, Jake shows up at Julie’s Family thanksgiving. A second chance holiday romance with fake dating, family drama, and fall festivities. @theharddeck these fics, esp carry my bags, feel so so real and human to me, i love julie and the characterisation of jake feels so on point i also love her series out of the clear, blue sky as well as kinda might, sorta like, love you a little bit + its follow ups

i’ve been holdin’ out so long (4 part series) You can’t stand Hangman, but your dreams lately say otherwise. He notices. @steadfastconviction i adore Bluegrass and her sass

do not engage (series) You hate Hangman. Really, you do... Or so you like to think, until it begins to seem like that distaste might not be as strong as you’d prefer to believe. @clints-lucky-arrow the entire f&f universe is great but Duchess especially is a badass

afterburn (series) It had been clear from the moment you got inside a cockpit that you were going to be something special. You certainly weren’t the youngest Naval Aviator to be invited to TOPGUN, but you had been the youngest to graduate at number one in more than thirty years. Which is all the more reason why it was so tragic that you would never, ever, be able to fly again. @top-hhun is a master of setting a scene

the off-season (series) It was supposed to just be one summer. But somehow you found yourself living in your grandparent’s Maine vacation house indefinitely. It was quiet when the summer tourists left, but tolerable. That was, until your brother’s friend from college needed a place to crash and he somehow wound up staying in your guest bedroom. Also indefinitely. @ereardon just started this series but i’m so into this world (au) already

fuck (the universe) (series) You’re a Kazansky–Tom “Iceman” Kazinsky’s youngest daughter–and you’ve taken after your father and become a Naval aviator. You finished at the top of your class at Top Gun and have worked diligently and fruitlessly to get to where you are now: North Island. You don the call-sign Wisteria not only because the beauty of the flower but because of its lethal qualities. i mention @roosterbruiser below bc i read landslide first but holy fuck indeed

* * *

rooster 

landslide (series) It’s been almost three years since the accident that took half of her, and Faye “Clover” Ledger seems fine, really. She loves her old house, she has a perpetually expanding vinyl collection, she’s got a job she likes on base, and she is only a short drive from the beach. She’s grounded--literally. @roosterbruiser landslide is one of those fics i have to read in little bits because it’s just too good. beautiful writing that just transports me (and i love faye, she may be the most developed fanfic oc i’ve ever read - and I love her taste in music)

baby let’s play house // pt 2  you got yourself in trouble. bradley has a bit of a savior complex. together, you come up with what could potentially be the worst idea in the longstanding and illustrious history of bad ideas. @seasonsbloom i just really love this fic, it shows all the quietest best parts of bradley

first impressions  at the induction day for the newest recruits of the Golden Warriors of VFA 87, rooster assumes you’re a civilian, instead of, you know, a member of his team? you see how far you can push it before he figures it out.  @ohcaptains‘s pilot in this fic is the badass bitch i wish i could be. as well as fucking funny.

like i can (series) After yet another bad date and tired of swiping on apps, the Dagger Squad steps in to help you out by setting you up on a series of blind dates. Much to Rooster’s dismay. @sometimesanalice perfect blend of cute, funny and heartmelting

* * *

bob 

he’s so pretty (when he goes down on me) // pt 2  things between you and Bob are strictly business: he’s your backseater, and that’s all there is. @seasonsbloom‘s writing is so good it made me want to try writing fic myself

* * *

hangman x rooster

we’re fools to make war In a Walmart at three am, between beef jerky and tortilla chips, with the lights flickering above them like it’s the fucking twilight zone, Bradley wants him more than he’s ever wanted anyone. or: it's a hundred degrees in texas. i can’t find a tumblr link for this but the writer is @baroness-elsa. this is 66k words and i read it in two days which probably says enough. holy shit.

* * *

there are many many more (this fandom is FULL of talented writers, damn) but this already took me an hour so that’ll be part 2 haha

[valhallaas]

Lonely Boy Far From Home

pairing: Bob Floyd x Memphis!reader

word count: 5k

warnings: SMUT (18+ minors dni) some fluff (if you squint), oral (female receiving), p in v, creampie (wrap it up pals)

summary: you danced around the idea for weeks, but now it’s down to one night.

a/n: here it is! the anticipated bob floyd fic! This is for you, @glen-powells​ Godspeed because i don’t want it anymore lmao i hope ya’ll enjoy it and let me know what you think! (I know the gif is Rhett and not Bob, but the cowboy hat is important. Go kick rocks)

What was I supposed to do Standin’ there lookin’ at you

The soft smile never leaves your lips as you glide around the reception. Every problem you and Adam, the best man, take in stride. Today wasn’t about you. Looking over from the bar your eyes latch onto the newlyweds. It’s almost sickly sweet how in love they are, but it is beautiful too. Fingering the sage green of your dress, you sit on a stool, waiting to catch the attention of the bartender.

The Rikki Tikki Special. You’re not sure what’s in it, but it gets you tipsy faster than anything from some fancy bar. You’re positive that it has more to do with Rikki being the drink maker—she mixes with her heart. It’s a warm Saturday night. The slight summer breeze swishing the skirt of your dress, keeping it from sticking to you. Everything is going as planned. You are thankful for the break, these heels are killing you. The music changes and you hear a sharp gasp from the head table. Rikki is up out of her seat, pulling her husband, Ben, with her, while her other hand is clutching her drink. She’s always been handsy when she’s drinking. Always wants to cuddle or hold your hand. You didn’t know how Benny dealt with it. Her hips sway wildly, making you giggle, her drink nearly spilling over the rim. If there’s one way to Rikki’s heart, it’s the Spice Girls.

Shaking your head, you turn back to the bar and take a sip from your drink. It’s a special night. It’s the first time you've been back to Tennessee in years. The Navy lets you travel. Even when you are on leave you still never stop moving. California, Hawaii, Montana. Your lips tilt up thinking of your stop there. Why you never pieced together that’s where Lieutenant Robert Floyd was from, you’ll never know. It was a nice surprise to see him, and made you more sure of your lingering feelings after top gun. Even after the death mission you’d all been called back for. Your fingers trail over your lips, barely a taste was all you got when you said goodbye. But you’re home now and you hadn’t realized how much you’ve missed it. You’d stopped by the family farm. Tummy full of your mama’s best meal, and cheeks tender from your papa’s calloused fingers pinching them. The party goes on without you as you sit unnoticed. One drink turns to two, and two drinks turns to three. You are definitely feeling it. Warm and loose. You really want out of this dress, but that involves walking back to the hotel, and you aren’t ready for that yet. Sitting at the bar isn’t so bad. Not for a people watcher like you. It’s easy to spot your aviator friends among the civilians. Something about the way they carry themselves. Makes you wonder if you carry yourself differently too, or if you blend into the crowd.

Just when you have found someone doing the moonwalk across the dance floor, your drink spills onto your bare legs, as someone knocks into your back.

“Jesus, sorry.”

You turn quickly, eyes catching the familiar blue staring back at you. His gaze widening as he takes you in. You bite your lip watching as a deep blush ran up his neck and invaded his cheeks. It's the sweetest thing you have ever seen. But that’s Bob, he’s sweet. He looks good in his tux—an all black three piece suit. It’s the black cowboy hat that sits on top of his head that really gets you going. It’s like he knows; you watch him take it off, running a hand through his hair before settling the hat back on again. He didn’t have his glasses on either, that threw you for a loop, but you weren’t complaining. Out of all the places to find him standing in front of you, Nashville, Tennessee was not on the list.

“Memphis?” by the complete shock on his face, it’s like you were sitting there naked.

“Hey Bobby,” you smile, reaching down with a bunch of napkins to dry off the fruit punch and vodka now trailing down your bare thighs. He watches as you blotch up the drink before setting them on the bar.

“How do you—how are you—”

“I’m best friends with the bride.” you gesture to the bridesmaid dress you were wearing.

He nods. “Uh, cousin of the groom.”

That makes your smile widen. Of course he’s related to Ben. It only made sense. Sweet, gentle, but you could see it. You could see the mean streak hidden underneath a mile away. While Rikki got to play with Ben’s, you wanted your chance with Bob. It was not something you would be dismissing twice. Your head tilts as you watch him. He’s moved in closer to you—you don’t think you’ve ever been this close to him. No, that wasn’t true. You had clung to him, tried to press him inside your body so he would never do that to you again. You never wanted to feel the way you did when he and Phoenix went down. The knot that had formed in your chest, Mickey had to help you breathe when it happened, half carrying you to the infirmary just to make sure they were okay.

Shaking your head, your gaze lifts from his mouth to his eyes. They’re intense. Desire and lust swirl in the pretty hues. You try to bite back your smile, looking around you. There has to be a way to escape. Rikki would understand, right? Would the newlyweds even notice if you were gone? Sliding off the stool, your hand reaches out for Bob’s arm, making sure your feet are firmly planted on the ground. You wait for the world to stop spinning, a bright smile taking up your face when you look up at him.

“All good,” you say to his questioning gaze.

“Are you?”

“Mhm. Need to pee, though.” He nods and points to the bathroom, but the crowd of people around the bar blocks your view. “I don’t see it.”

“C’mon, follow me.” He grabs your hand, leading you through the crowd. When you get to the single-room bathroom with a ladies sign hanging above it, you thank him before pushing open the door. It’s a tiny room with a toilet and a dirty mirror. You look back at him before closing the door. He’s leaning against the wall, one foot crossed over the other. Waiting, as if you’d lose your way back to the bar.

You don’t have to use the restroom. But you needed a breather. Walking over to the sink you gather some water before dabbing at your exposed chest and the back of your neck. It was more than just the summer Tennessee heat making you feel this way. You haven’t felt like this since the last time you were in Bob’s presence. It made you a little unnerved. It’s soothing, washing your hands, getting the sticky aftermath of beer off your hands. You watch the bubbles go down the drain and when you glance up you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. You laugh at the slightly glossy sheen in your eyes. Goddamn Rikki and her stupid drink.

You huff, turning to grab a few paper towels from the dispenser, but the lever doesn’t give anything when you tug. Staring at it blankly, you grumble a few curses before smacking it. If you were wearing jeans you could’ve simply dried them that way, but as you glare down at your dress it just isn’t a possibility.

The call of your name causes you to look at the door. It sounds like he’s trying not to laugh. You frown, as if he can see you standing there glaring at the paper towel dispenser. “You okay in there?”

“No,” you reply flatly.

You give one final glare to the dispenser before unlocking the bathroom door. Bob gives you an amused look before offering you his hand. When his skin touches yours, there’s an audible gasp and you can’t be sure of who it came from. You squeeze your fingers in his grasp, biting into your cheek when he squeezed back. His eyes are already trained on you when your gaze lifts.

Your gaze drifts to his lips for a beat too long before looking back up at his eyes. You’re very aware of how close his body is to yours, the humor dancing in his eyes slowly melting into something darker as he steps into you.

“You’re drunk, Memph,” his voice is low, nearly a whisper. It sets you on fire as his gaze freely devours your body, taking you in from head to toe.

“Not that drunk,” you defend yourself. “Tipsy, perhaps.”

“You’re only looking at me like that because you’ve been drinking.”

Your heart sinks. Did he honestly believe that? He didn’t know how you felt? All your life you’d always been told that you wore your heart on your sleeve. Your heart had been dragged through the mud more times than you could count. You were on the verge of locking it up tight where no one could ever reach it again when you met Bob. Sweet Bobby, who just..knew. He looked at you and saw someone worth looking at. A heart worth holding on to. How the hell did he not know that in the years you’ve known him that you’ve fallen head over heels in love with him?

“I’m not looking at you like anything.” you stumble over your words, but you know he hears you, his lips lifting at your tone.

“You’re looking at me like you want me to touch you.” He steps toward you. What are you supposed to say to that? Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, catching his attention, and you watch how his eyes dilate. “Do you want me to touch you, Memphis?”

You can’t really hear anything over the roar of blood rushing in your ears, and you stop breathing completely when your back hits the wall. Do you want him to touch you? You look up and meet his eyes. They’re trained on you, waiting. He’s not going to make another move until you give him an answer. It’s obvious, at least in your eyes. You’ve never wanted anything more. When your gaze falls to his hands, your mind is made up. His hands are balled up tightly into fists as if he’s refraining from touching you. All you can think about is how they’d feel on you, touching you, all of you.

“Yes,” you breathe.

He takes a step towards you, close enough that his minty breath hits your cheeks as he lowers his head. Your lips are less than an itch apart, his nose bumps yours as he takes you in. His eyes are hooded, almost in a daze, he places both hands on either side of the wall moving his lips toward your ear.

“You’re drunk right now,” he says slowly, deliberately. The feel of his hot breath sends shivers down your spine. “I will not touch you, sweet girl, unless you really want me to.”

Bob pulls back to search my face, looking for hesitance. He won’t find any. There isn’t any. Just desire, and the need for him. You want to pull back to look into his eyes, but you can’t. You can’t tear your gaze away from his lips which are parted, moist and waiting.

“Memph,” he groans. Begging you to confirm that you want this. You aren’t too drunk to make solid decisions. Not when it comes to this—there is no such thing as crossing any lines.

You don’t bother using any words. Pushing up on your toes you crash your lips into his, and you grin when he instantly responds. His arms wrap tightly around you, swiping his tongue across your lips. You open for him only to have him pull away with a groan. He steps back long enough to lock the door before returning to you. This time his hands grab at your thighs, hoisting you up the wall as his champagne tinged tongue rolls against yours.

You moan at the contact, the skirt of your dress now rucked up to your hips. Leaving nothing but thin lace as a barrier against the pants of his suit. When he rolls his hips you can’t stop the breathy whine that escapes, his hands tightening on your thighs at the sound. Bob breaks the kiss and slides his lips across your cheek to the sensitive skin behind your ear near the edge of your jaw. Your vision goes white for a second when he bites down and sucks.

Holy fucking shit.

“Bobby.” Your body is on fire and you can say with complete certainty that it is not the alcohol. You feel his grin as he sucks and licks his way down to your chest. When he reaches the silky green material, his eyes shoot yours.

It only takes a couple of seconds to slip the thin straps down your shoulders. It’s almost comical how his eyes widen at the sight of your chest. Goosebumps travel across your exposed skin as his mouth explores you.

He delves down, taking a nipple between his teeth while he explores the other, tugging it gently as he rolls it between his fingers. The heat pooling between your thighs ignites as a desperate moan slips from your lips. You tug at his suit jacket, and he pulls away just enough to slip the material off, dropping it behind him. Grabbing his face, you bring his lips back to your own, desperate to taste him again. You part your lips for his tongue, basking in the groan that vibrates in the back of his throat as your hands make their way under his buttoned shirt, nails digging into his back. Bringing your hands around to slide across the hard indents of each muscle on his stomach until you stop at the top of his jeans.

He steps away from the wall, letting you slide down until your feet are back on the ground again. Dropping to his knees, Bob hikes the skirt of your dress up further and loops his thumbs around your underwear. his blown out eyes dart up to meet yours, it’s clear he’s waiting for confirmation. The sight of him— flushed, looking up at you with the kind of hungry gaze that you have fantasized about since meeting him—it shoots a bolt of lightning to your core, making your legs shake in anticipation. The pulsing between your thighs is fueled when he licks his lips, causing you to release a shaky breath as you nod.

He pulls at your panties, helping you out of them before he tucks the fabric into his pant pockets. Gripping your hips, his hold tightens as he slowly takes you in. When his hand trails down your thigh to your knee, he lifts your leg and positions it over his shoulder, pulling you closer. You close your eyes and lean your head back against the cold tiled wall, trying to just enjoy every moment as it comes. You’ve wanted this. God, you want him. There’s a curious part of you, the part that's panting at the sight of Robert Floyd on his knees in front of you, that’s telling you to just sit back and enjoy this.

His hat is knocked off his head so you can thread your fingers through his hair as he bites down on your inner thigh, just inches away from where you want him most, sending shocks of pleasure up your spine as he sucks hard enough to leave a bruise. When he pulls back, he flicks his tongue across the tender skin, but based on the breathy moans slipping from your lips, he knows that you’re desperate for him.

A strangled moan sounds in the back of your throat, and his lips quirk in a small grin as if he knows that you’re practically begging, and when he lifts your thigh a little higher, exposing even more of you to him, his eyes darken.

He lowers his head again, but this time it doesn’t meet your thigh, and when his tongue drags across your center in a long, languid motion, a gasp is pulled from you as every nerve in your body nearly short circuits. He pulls away and licks his lips, already glossy from the contact, and when his gaze flicks back up to yours, you know you’re fucked. His cheek twitches before he dips his head back down, and your hips begin to move with his tongue. When your fingers grip his hair harder, begging for more pressure as the muscles in your legs tighten, the band in your stomach coiling, he chuckles, and the vibration almost makes your knees give out.

Tightening his hold on you, his tongue moves faster, rougher, and your head falls back against the wall as your legs start to shake. He slips two fingers into you, curling them up and hitting a spot that you weren’t sure had ever been reached before, and when he reconnects his lips to yours, your whole body tenses. Your breathing is fast and uneven, and each breath turns into a small moan as he focuses on your swollen clit, licking hard enough to make your entire body go numb as goosebumps break out, spreading like wildfire across your skin.

His tongue slows into a lazy rhythm, a teasing rhythm, and your mouth falls open in a soft gasp as your hips rock forward, pleading with him to keep going. His tongue slows even more, and you don't have to look down to know he's smirking between your thighs.

Your entire body is on fire, electrocuting, searing every nerve.

"Please." You gasp, moving your hips a little more, desperate for contact. You don’t belong to yourself. Not anymore, and if you weren't so desperate, you might have the sense to be embarrassed as you beg him. "Please, god, don't stop."

He pulls back a little more until you can feel his breath on the inside of your thigh.

"Say my name, Memph. I want to feel you come on my tongue while I'm on yours." Your breath catches in your throat at his demand. "Say my goddamn name."

He didn’t have to ask, practically beg. If you had it your way it’d always be his name. A breath of his name—a plea to touch you, to bring you back to that paradise on his tongue, to never stop.

"Please, Bobby."

He grabs your thighs tight, nearly lifting you from the bathroom floor as he pulls you closer, and the echoes of your breathy whimpers move around you as his tongue finds you again, rougher than before. The pressure in the pit of your stomach builds quickly, and suddenly you can't breathe as you bite down to keep the loud moan that's on the tip of your tongue from echoing past the bathroom door.

It happens all at once—every muscle in your body tenses until the pressure in your stomach snaps. A million tiny nerves of rolling pleasure, flooding every inch of your body, blinding you.

You can feel yourself pulse around his fingers as every part of you seems to throb in time with his expert tongue. Breathy whimpers slip through your lips, each one a desperate moan of his name, as every nerve in your body comes alive in a mind-numbing aftershock.

Holy fuck.

Holy fuck.

Your eyes stay closed as you heave in desperate breaths, savoring the peaceful warmth currently flooding through your muscles. Bob slowly pulls away, and you are very aware of the fact that he's fully supporting your weight since your legs gave out a few minutes ago. Looking down at him, still kneeling in front of you, your chest tightens at the sight. This wouldn’t be enough. There had to be more than this.

You want him.

"Fuck, Memphis," He groans, and the rough vibration sparks another flame that heats your entire body like a white-hot electrical shock straight down your spine. Sliding his two glossy fingers into his mouth, his hands move to lift your dress completely off you as you unbutton his pants and tug them down. The large bulge tenting his tight boxers quickens your pulse as you reach to pull them off, but before you can tug them down his hips, the knock that echoes through the bathroom makes you jump.

You look up at him with wide eyes, your slick all over his face. You grin before pulling him into a heated kiss. You catch the dazed look in his eyes when you break away from him.

“Your place or mine?”

**

Maybe it was you, maybe it was me But it sure felt right

You’re not sure how exactly you got back to your hotel. Bob had snagged keys off someone promising the safe return of their car tomorrow. Rikki had seen you exit the bathroom. The shit eating grin that painted her face told you she knew what you’d been up to. If you had to guess, she’s probably the one who banged on the door. Fucking cockblock.

All is well now, though. Your left hand is held tightly in Bob’s as you wait for the elevator. His other hand holds your heels for you and you want to leave red lipstick marks all over his face. Glancing down when he feels you staring, he gives you a bashful smile. Your eyebrow quirks. He can’t be coy, not when he just had his head buried in your pussy. You won’t tease him, not right now. So you simply rest your head on his shoulder.

“You looked real pretty tonight,” he says softly, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“I don’t look pretty now?” You counter.

“I—of course you do. More fucked out than anything, I think.”

“Could always be better.”

The elevator dings, the doors opening up to let you in. Bob moves you so your back is to the wall. A small smirk takes over your lips when you realize all four walls of the elevator are mirrors. You see everything from every angle. Like how the man beside you is staring down at your chest. A giggle bursts out, his eyes snapping to yours.

His mouth on yours shuts you up real quick. Just like in the bathroom your back hits the wall behind you. You gasp for air when he pulls away, your body lurching against his when he slams his hand down against the stop button, the elevator freezing in place. His eyes are dark when he meets yours. You want to smile. You had pulled at something with your comment, and his mean streak is coming out to play.

“Can’t wait, sweet girl, can’t fucking wait.” His voice is thick with want.

You’re shoved backwards, shoulders slamming against the wall causing you to hiss. Fingers trail up your thighs before digging into the muscle, fingers splayed across your skin before he lifts you up off your feet. Instantly, your legs are wrapping around his waist, the skirt of your dress bunched up at your hips. Deft fingers hastily undoing his pants. No clumsiness, you aren’t unsure, there is no hesitance. It’s in that moment that you look up over his shoulder, glazed over eyes meeting him in the mirror. He looks like the goddamn devil. He wants to tear you apart from the inside out.

The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor pulls you back in. Glancing down, your teeth dig into your lip at the sight of him. He’s hot, a pulsing red as he sits heavy between you. He lifts your face so he can meet your eye. You give a single nod before he’s pushing into you. You glance down again, heat hitting your cheeks when you remember he’s been carrying your underwear around in his pocket. Made for easy access. There is nothing small about Bob. He’s big, and thick, and he has your eyes rolling towards the back of your head. The head of his cock snags at your entrance, you breathe in nice and slow, using his shoulders to lift yourself up before resting back down, swallowing him as you do.

“Oh my god,” You moan as his hips roll into yours, you have given him all the permission he needs. He told you he couldn’t wait, so he’s taking it, demanding it–needing it the second he feels the tight velvet of your sex.

“Bobby,” you whine, forehead nestling in against his neck and shoulder.

Bob nods. This was a long time coming. He knows. He knows you need this as much as he does. You're clinging to him, cunt clenching around him like he’d slip free at any moment. He groans when your teeth dig into his shoulder right where it meets his neck. His thrusts are slow and deep, building a fire inside of you. Your head falls back against the wall, eyes opening to watch. You grin lazily when you see him watching you. You draw back, hips moving in a smooth tempo. You hit a good rhythm, letting yourself move with him. It had never been like this with anyone else. Easy, full of complete desire and lust, not just a means to an end. You’re almost where he wants you. He meets your gaze and his eyes hold something akin to mischief. You clench around him and he groans. He thrusts up a little harder than before, causing your head to fall back.

“There you are, my sweet girl.”

You watch each other, a breath apart as you take what he gives you. His hand slides up your front, warm fingers wrapping gingerly around your throat. Your breath catches as he muffles out a curse, his other hand lifts one of your legs higher on his hip so he can reach a deeper angle. His pace quickens, his thrusts are harsher. You’re loving every minute of it. Flexing your cunt, your lower muscles bear down as you grip him. He groans, the sound booming in the tight small space.

There’s pleasure coiling behind your pussy. “Bobby, I—”

“What do you need, Memph?”

“Bobby,” You whine, pulling on his hair. “Please, baby, please. I can’t—I need you—.”

His gaze drops from your face to where he’s burying himself in your tight cunt. He nods before lifting his eyes. “I’ve got you, ready?”

You flash him a grin and he jolts, his cock twitching deep. You cling to him, desperate and a little dizzy. There’s alcohol still in your system. While you’re not drunk, or even slightly tipsy, it’s there to remind you. You moan, he’s so big and you’re so fucking full. He fills you up completely, cock dragging against your walls. You love every minute of it.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise. You lurch against him as a whimper escapes. You lean back against the wall, boneless. You’re lost in the feel of the pleasure, your gaze watching as he pounds into you. His grip is tight, and a little desperate. You’re loose and wet and fucking perfect. His nose presses into your cheek as he grinds into you.

“I love the way you feel when you’re coming on my cock.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him. Steady pants and grunts are heavy in your ear. You’re surprised you haven’t fogged up the glass. It’s a brutal taking, and you are not wet enough. Tears pool in your eyes, threatening to fall with every harsh thrust. You take what you're given, no complaints. You feel him shift his weight, delivering a sharper thrust that nearly has you sliding up the wall. He mumbles apology but his grasp on your waist is unforgivable. You’re bouncing on his cock now, meeting his every thrust. He’s deep, so deep you’re surprised you can’t taste him. You pull his hair, grinning when he hisses.

“Are you going to come for me again?” he asks, practically coos into your ear. “You look so pretty when you do, Memphis.”

You can’t talk. He knows you’re fucked out, gone stupid on his cock. You ask for it, you know you did with your little comment earlier. But you don’t regret it. You shift, opening up your legs a little wider. He groans feeling himself sink deeper into you. You’re swollen and raw and you’re living for it. Nodding, his name falls from your lips, breathless—he’s sending you cloud nine and you aren’t ever coming back down. .

It’s like a volcano, jolting you, overflowing and hot. A scream ripped from your throat and your nails digging into him so hard you can feel when he starts to bleed. Bob is right there. He holds you into place, lips kissing your cheeks. He fucks you through it, jamming himself into your searing overstimulated sex, he meets his end. His grip tightens, a low groan comes from deep in his chest, filling you up. Shuddering he falls into you, keeping you pinned between him and the wall as he gasps for air.  

“Holy shit,” he mutters, breaking the silence.

You fall forward, hugging him tightly to you. You were drunk off of him. There isn’t anyway, ain’t no how he was getting rid of you now. You’re aching and sore but you refuse to move away from him. His eyes are still dark and heavy-lidded as he regards you. You give him a soft smile, a hand pushing his hair back.

“Bob, where are your glasses?”

He shrugs. “In my suitcase. I, uh, didn’t want to wear them.”

You raise a brow. “Why?”

“There was a pretty girl I was trying to impress tonight.”

Bob sets you on your feet as that comment settles over you. You don’t stay standing, though, you sink to your bottom, head tilting up to look at him. Holy fuck. Bumping into you at the bar. The look Rikki gave you. You giggle before smacking a hand over your mouth. It’s really not that funny. Fucking Bob got you. He owned you.

You look back up at him, with a shake of your head. “Welcome to Tennessee, Bobby.”

[kelyon]

Courtship 5: Outfit

Lacey figures out what she's going to wear on her date

Read on AO3

The pile of clothes covered Lacey’s twin bed. She’d spent the better part of an hour matching blouses with slacks with sweaters in a vain attempt to find the magic combination that would make her look less like the president of the student council and more like Mr. Gold’s perfect slut. 

Nothing worked. So far, her best options were to wear her summer sundress in the middle of winter with no coat, or to take a pair of scissors to the long black skirt she had worn to her mother’s funeral. That last one might have been an option, if she had a sewing machine like Mara. But she didn’t, and showing up at Mr. Gold’s house wearing unhemmed rags was probably as bad an idea as showing up wearing pants. If she had a sleeveless top, she might consider wearing the skirt as it was. She could try to go for a sort of hippy, Bohemian look. But the most revealing blouse Lacey French owned had puffed-up sleeves, like a fucking five-year-old. 

Groaning, she fell backwards onto the pile. Some of this stuff she had got in middle school. The fact that they still fit her had been an advantage every time she’d decided to spend her limited funds on books instead of clothes, but it also meant that Lacey had never aged up her personal style. She didn’t have anything that made her look or feel like an adult. 

The purple-blue dress shimmered in her dirty clothes hamper. She had jumped the gun by wearing her only sexy outfit on her first date with Mr. Gold. She had set the bar too high. Now he would have expectations of how Miss French liked to dress. More than that, Mr. Gold in his suits had standards. If she met him looking like a mess, he’d drive off and leave her on the curb.

At least he didn’t seem to mind if she left him looking like a mess. He hadn’t minded bringing her home with a wrinkled skirt and no stockings or underwear. She wanted that to happen again, but before it could, Lacey had to look presentable. None of her clothes were cutting it. She had to take action. 

She pulled a white button-up off the pile and rubbed a smear of foundation over her hickey. Then she went downstairs into the shop. Dad was sitting by the cash register, looking through a faded design book. 

Mom had known all the designs for bouquets and arrangements by heart, but Dad always needed to double check with the book. 

“Anything happen today?” Lacey asked.

He shook his head, didn’t look up.

“We should call up everyone who ordered from us last year and remind them that V-day is in less than three weeks.”

“They know,” he grumbled. “This time of year, no one has any money. The men at Fish King will get paid on Friday, that’s when the orders will start. But they won’t really pick up until the next payday, the eleventh.”

He was right. It happened like that every year. All the orders came in at the very last minute. Valentine’s Day weekend was two solid days of constant work getting everything put together. 

And it was too far away to do Lacey any good.   

“So I’m guessing this is not a good time to discuss the subject of me ever getting paid for the hours I put in?”

Her father looked at her like she had just told an offensive joke that wasn’t even funny. Had his eyes always been so bloodshot? Had he always looked like a sad cartoon dog?

“You keep your tips.” He looked down at the book again. “You have money when the store has money, when we’re not racking up daily fees from that bastard Gold.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Lacey rubbed her hands on her jeans. “Just thought I’d ask.”

Of course Dad didn’t have any money to give her. That was their whole problem. Game of Thorns was a family business, the only income any of them had. For as long as she’d worked in the store, her pay had come in the form of food and shelter. Her reward for helping keep the place open was that it stayed open. It might not have been unreasonable to ask for more, but she knew it was unattainable. 

“Ask again when Valentine’s is over,” Dad said. “We get out of this hole… I’ll try to make something work.”

She’d heard that before. Her father always had all kinds of plans and dreams for when things got better. Not that things ever did get better. Not that they ever would. The only thing worse than knowing that fact would be admitting it. So Lacey gave her father a tight smile and pretended she believed him, just like she always did.

****

She made her way over to Marine Automotive, where her Uncle Manny was locking the front doors from the outside. When he saw her loitering, he beamed.

“Hey! There’s my favorite niece!”

Uncle Manny looked like Dad if nothing bad had ever happened to him. He had the same height and stocky build. He had the same curly hair that was also the bane of Lacey’s existence. But where Moe French was loud when he was angry, Manny French was loud when he was happy--and he was always loud. He wrapped Lacey up in a bear hug.

“How you doing, Ace? What brings you by?”

She cut to the chase. “Are you going to the Rabbit Hole tonight?”

Her uncle wasn’t a huge drinker, but he was the only person Lacey knew who regularly went to Storybrooke's only bar.

“I wasn’t planning on it. They’re aren’t any games tonight. But I take it you need an escort?”

Lacey raised her shoulders in a half-apology. “They won’t let me in without a parent-slash-guardian.”

“Ah, to be young again!” Uncle Manny wrapped one arm around her. “You’ll miss it one of these days, I promise you. But yeah, we can have a night on the town. I’ll even buy you a Shirley Temple.”

“Oh come on,” she gave him a playful nudge. “I am an adult, even if I can’t drink. I should at least get a Coke and Coke.”

“Sounds like a plan.” 

****

The Rabbit Hole was dead. Between the lack of sports on TV and the town-wide lack of money until payday, most people were staying home. The only ones here were people like Leroy Miner, people who had nowhere else to go. Like the old song said, sharing a drink they called loneliness was better than drinking alone. 

Undeterred, Lacey took her uncle-approved non-alcoholic beverage over to the pool table by the fireplace. She took off her hoodie and unbuttoned her blouse a little. This whole thing was a risky move, but it was the best plan she had. Hustling pool paid off more often than it didn’t.  

Eyeing the room, she bent over the pool table, just far enough to get a little attention. She lined up a shot and missed on purpose.

“Oh crap!” she said too loudly. “Must not be my night.”

After ten minutes of staged failure, Lacey let herself land a shot. She squealed when the ball went into the pocket. The sound made people’s heads turn, and she treated them all to a too-wide, too-apologetic smile.

Only one person smiled back. Keith Sherwood turned on his bar stool to watch her. Lacey tried to remember her other encounters with Keith. Did he usually stare more at her ass or her boobs? For safety’s sake, she did both. She leaned far enough over the table that Keith could look down her cleavage, then moved around to the other side for the next shot. She stuck her ass in the air, practically humping the felt to keep his attention.

“Boys always make it look so easy,” she pouted after another ball just barely missed the pocket.

When Keith began to walk over to her, she turned her back to him. That way she could pretend to be surprised by his arrival. With careful concentration, Lacey managed to get a ball a full foot away from what anyone watching would have assumed was her target. It was actually harder to be bad on purpose, but it paid off.

“You having fun, sweet thing?” Keith leaned against the pool table, beer in hand, right in front of her.

Lacey giggled. “It’d be more fun if I had someone to play with.”

Keith chuckled. A lock of his hair fell down into his eyes. “I bet it would be. You had a lot of fun playing with me last time, didn’t you?”

How much money had she taken from Keith the last time she had tried this? Sometimes she got cocky and her marks got mad about being taken. Lacey couldn’t remember if she had ever crowed about fleecing Keith. Unfortunately, he probably did. 

She fluttered her eyelashes. “It was a lot of fun,” she cooed. “I think I got lucky that night.”

“I bet you’re gonna get lucky again.” He was standing too close to her. “I bet your luck will get better and better all night, especially when we start playing double or nothing.”

Crap. She had definitely rubbed Keith’s face in it last time. Now he was wise to her. That was the problem with a small town. Oh well, at least she’d tried.

“So is that a bet?” she said in her real voice. “Do you wanna put money down on whether or not I’m actually hustling you? Cuz I’ll take you up on that one.”

Keith shook his head. He put his hand down on top of hers on the edge of the pool table. He was still smiling.

“You know there’s another game we can play together. It’s a lot more fun than pool.”

Ugh.

Lacey backed away. “It might be fun for you, but I don’t think I’d get much out of it.”

He followed her. “How do you know? Maybe it’d be more fun if you hustled me. That’d make things interesting, wouldn’t it? Twenty bucks says I can make you see heaven.”

She snorted. “Did you just say you’ll pay to screw me?”

Keith kept smiling. “You were gonna screw me all over this table and take my money anyway. I like my version better.”

Lacey’s blood suddenly went cold. This wasn’t funny anymore. It wasn’t a game. This asshole would seriously give her money if she went home with him. It would be so easy to go along with it. Twenty dollars for two orgasms--his would be real, hers would be fake. 

Would that be enough to buy a new skirt? Was she seriously fucking considering this?

She clenched her jaw. 

“I’m not a fucking hooker, Keith.”

He raised his arms in a pacifying gesture. “No harm, no foul,” he said. “I just don’t see how it’s any different from taking a girl to dinner first. Man pays for sex either way.”

Turning away, she slid her pool cue back on the rack. 

“You’re a pig.”

“Go ahead, darlin’, keep talking dirty. See what happens.”

Lacey kept her head held high as she went back to the bar where her uncle was nursing a beer.

“I need to get out of here,” she told him.

“Sounds good.” Uncle Manny took out his wallet and tossed a few crumpled fives onto the bar. “I’ll walk you home.”

****

 Outside, Lacey pulled her arms out of the sleeves of her hoodie and hugged her arms over her chest. This stupid button down was too frumpy to make her sexy and too thin to keep her warm. 

“Pool wasn’t any good for you tonight?” Uncle Manny asked casually.

“No,” she admitted. “Fricking Keith threw me off my game.”

“What do you need money for anyway? That dad of yours not feeding you?”

“I need money cuz I don’t have any.” Lacey kicked at a chunk of dirty snow. “Nobody does.”

“I’ve got a little, for the smartest kid in Storybrooke.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. “You wanna tell me what it’s for?”

Lacey bit the inside of her mouth. She didn’t want to lie to her uncle, but she sure as hell didn’t want to tell him the truth. She walked in silence for a minute. He stayed with her. Finally, she said it.

“I wanna get some new clothes.”

“Like a real coat?”

She shrugged. “I mean, maybe. I could. If I had enough.”

“And this is a sudden yearning that couldn’t wait?”

She shrugged again. There was nothing like being around a parent-slash-guardian to make her feel like a complete child.

“Ace, what’s going on?”

She took a breath. “I… don’t want to tell you.”

He put his hand on her shoulder. “Lacey French, if you’re doing things you don’t want people to know about, then you shouldn’t do them.”

“It’s nothing bad!” Lacey pushed him away. “It’s just… personal.”

“That’s not reassuring,” he said. “What’s going on? What do you need money for?”

“I told you, to buy clothes!”

“Clothes for what? You can tell me, Lacey. I’ll help you out if you’re honest.”

“I just want to look nice on a date!” She shrieked the words out into the night. They hung in the air with the cloud of her breath.

Uncle Manny looked at her, confused and sympathetic at the same time. Eventually, he broke out into a broad smile.

“But that’s great, honey! You should go on dates. Why-- why didn’t you say so to begin with?”

She pulled her hands up through the neck hole of her hoodie to rub her face.

“I’m… It’s because of who I’m going out with.”

Uncle Manny scoffed and put his arm around her as they walked. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of dating someone. Unless it’s someone you should be ashamed of, but then you just don’t date them. It’s not a girl, is it?”

Lacey shook her head, to which Uncle Manny nodded.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that, not in this modern world. You know I’m with you no matter what.”

She nodded. 

“And of course, no boy is ever going to be good enough for you. But as long as he’s not married, or some kind of asshole like that bastard Gold, there’s no reason to sneak around like--Lacey?”

She had stopped in her tracks. She looked up at her uncle and chewed on her lower lip.

Realization dawned. Uncle Manny let out a long breath. 

“Lace.” His voice was rough. “Tell me you’re dating a married man.”

Lips pressed together, she shook her head. “Don’t tell anyone.”

Standing in place, Uncle Manny stomped his work boots onto the sidewalk. The intent seemed to be half to warm his feet and half to cool his head.

“Gold,” he whispered. He pointed in the direction of Mr. Gold’s pawn shop. “That Gold? The guy that has every working person in Storybrooke by balls? The guy who’s practically the reason all of us are living paycheck to paycheck? You’re going on dates with him?”

She shrugged. “It’s only been one date so far, but he asked me to come to his house on Friday.”

“And you said yes? What, does he have something on you? Is that why you need money?”

“No!” Lacey insisted. “I was telling the truth! I just need clothes that are good enough for him.”

“‘Good enough for him?’ He’s not good enough for you, Lacey! That man is a scourge. He’s a parasite. He’s--he’s old enough to be your father!”

“If he was my father, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I’d actually have a good life.”

“You have a good life.” Uncle Manny wasn’t angry anymore. Or if he was, his anger had become still and stern. “Your parents worked every day to give you a good life.”

“And where did it get them?” Lacey snapped. “Where did it get me? Yes, we work hard, but our only reward is getting to work even harder. And I’m so tired.” Her face was hot. God, she was sniffling. “Being with Mr. Gold feels like a break, and that’s all I want anymore. Just a freaking break.” 

Uncle Manny’s arms were around her. He pulled her against his coveralls that smelled like motor oil and sweat. He squeezed her tight and patted her back as she tried to stop crying.

“Sorry,” she sniffed when they broke apart.

“Hey,” he tilted her chin up and looked her in the eye. “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”

Despite her tears, Lacey laughed. It was an old joke for them. She knew what her next line had to be: “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”  

He hugged her again, kissed the top of her head. They didn’t talk until they were in front of Game of Thorns.

“I’d stay for dinner, but I’ve had Moe’s cooking before.”

She snorted at another joke she’d heard a thousand times, then she turned serious. “Um. You’re not going to tell anybody, are you?”

“About your…” he searched for the words, then shrugged, “love life?”

“Yeah. You know my dad will blow a gasket if he finds out I’m even talking to Mr. Gold, let alone--”

“Yeah, I know.” Uncle Manny cut her off. Clearly, he didn’t want to hear what she was doing with Mr. Gold.

“So, please don’t tell him? Promise?”

Her uncle sucked his teeth and slowly shook his head in silence. It took a long minute before he looked at her again.

“Okay,” he said. “You’re an adult. You know your own mind, you can make your own decisions. It’s just--be smart, okay? You are an adult, but you’re also our little girl. Me, your dad, your mom, rest her soul--we don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I promise I won’t get hurt, if you promise not to blab my business all over town.”

“Aright,” he sighed. He pulled her in for a tight hug. “I promise. Just--please, take care of yourself.”

  She squeezed her uncle, then headed for the door. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

****

Lacey spent the entire working day on Thursday psychically willing the phone to ring with orders, preferably orders that had to be filled as soon as possible. Doing a rush job would give them an excuse to charge extra. She wouldn’t wish a funeral on anyone, but wouldn’t this be a great weekend for an impromptu wedding? So many of Lacey’s problems would be solved if just one panicked bride would come in and beg them to fill Dodci’s Dance Hall with centerpieces and garlands, not to mention all the bouquets and boutonnieres and flowers for the church too. Or maybe someone important could get sick and everyone in Storybrooke would send flowers to the hospital. Wasn’t there anyone in Storybrooke who was celebrating anything? Did people not have birthdays in late January? There were so many reasons people could need flowers. But this wasn’t a day when people did.

Hustling at the Rabbit Hole wasn’t an option anymore. If this were any other occasion, she would borrow a skirt from Mara or Janine, but that didn’t seem like a possibility. They wouldn’t take the news of her going on a date with Mr. Gold any better than Uncle Manny had. Mara’s store, where she also lived, was rented from Mr. Gold, and Janine had taken out a loan to pay for her beautician supplies. Both of them--really everyone in Storybrooke--saw him as the enemy. As far as they cared to think about it, he was the reason they were poor. If Lacey told her friends how much she wanted to be around him, they would think she was crazy, or morally degenerate.

Maybe she was. 

Or maybe they were wrong. Had her friends ever eaten at Bella Notte? Had they ever worn a dress that made them feel like sex on two legs? Had they ever watched a hapless waiter get strong-armed into breaking a stupid law for them? Had they ever been inside Mr. Gold’s house? Had they ever taken clothes off just because a man had asked them to? Had they ever known the thrill of promising to do whatever another person told them to do? Had they ever known the peace of being an object, of kneeling silently at someone’s feet?

Could they even understand why that was something anyone would want? Let alone that it was something Lacey craved in a place deeper than her bones? Some dark, hidden part of her soul wanted Mr. Gold, like she had never wanted anything else. 

And not having enough money to buy a stupid fucking skirt might keep her away from him forever. She could not abide that thought.

When Friday was another dud--a few orders came in, but they wouldn’t pay until delivery--Lacey knew that she was out of options. Since Mr. Gold would be picking her up tonight at eight, she was also out of time. So she did what everyone in Storybrooke did when they had nowhere else to go.

She went to the pawn shop. 

****

Lacey had always been intrigued by the phrasing of Mr. Gold’s store. The sign said Mr. Gold Pawnbroker and Antiquities Dealer. Most stores advertised the goods sold inside, but Mr. Gold advertised himself. This was who he was, this was what he did. No one came to this store because they needed things, they came because they needed what only he could offer them. Usually, they needed it enough to pay whatever price he set. 

When it came down to it, Lacey really wasn’t that different from any other desperate soul who came to Mr. Gold. The only difference was what she wanted.

It was three in the afternoon. Not technically her lunch break, but it wasn’t like she was getting paid to stick around the flower shop. Lacey changed into some gray dress pants and covered her work shirt with her least-frumpy cardigan. She stuffed her purse full of old toys and oddities that might--cumulatively, optimistically--be worth about ten dollars. She yelled at Dad that she was going out for a minute and then walked over to Mr. Gold’s.

The bell rang over her head when she walked through the front door. Mr. Gold was behind the counter, writing something in a ledger. He looked up at the sound and gave the slightest grin when he saw that it was her. 

“Miss French,” he said, with just a touch of warmth. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Lacey bit her lip, but forced herself to stay cool. She looked around at the shelves and display cases, slowly making her way forward. Another time, she would have marveled at the art and jewelry and historic do-dads, but now she slunk past them.

“I…” she dragged out the word, unsure of what she was saying as she said it, “was wondering… if you have any clothes for sale.” 

Mr. Gold raised his eyebrows. “Clothes?”

“Yeah.” She stopped in front of a spinning rack of necklaces. She couldn’t look at him. “You know, like vintage stuff?”

He walked over to her, behind the display case. “I’ve got some historic naval uniforms, but nothing that would suit you.”

He was in front of her now, so they were separated by nothing but two feet of glass and gadgets. She didn’t raise her head. Some of these necklaces were really pretty. One gold chain with a mother-of-pearl pendant spoke to her for some reason.

“What do you need, Miss French?”

His voice was gentle, coaxing. He understood how much she hated what she was doing. He probably talked to a lot of people who were feeling what she was feeling. At least he didn’t seem to be enjoying her discomfort.

Lacey took a breath, and looked up at him.

“I need a skirt,” she admitted. “I don’t have anything to wear on our date tonight.”

He blinked. Then his face grew infinitesimally softer. 

“I see,” he said. 

“I brought some stuff.” She set her purse on the counter, began to pull out the junk she’d brought from home. “I thought I might--”

“Please,” he held up a hand. “You don’t need to do that. I’m more than happy to assist you, Miss French.” He turned away from her, went back over to his antique cash register. 

“I can pay you back…”

“Oh you will,” he grinned. He took a bill out of the cash register and set it on the counter. Lacey came closer and saw that it was a fifty. “Will this be enough?”

She fought the urge to snatch the money and run all the way to Modern Fashions. It was the same feeling she’d had when he’d given her the money to tip that stupid waiter. The thrill, the rush, of having cash and knowing she could do anything with it. Fifty dollars was more than she had spent on clothes in the past year. Fifty dollars could cover the bill at Granny’s for her whole family--or at least for Janine and Mara to have real lunches.

Fifty dollars was more than twice what Keith had offered her to have sex with him.

Lacey pulled her hands back. She dug her fingernails into her palms. 

“I… I shouldn’t accept this,” she said.  

“Why not?” Mr. Gold asked, unperturbed. “Are you worried I’ll take advantage of you? Wouldn’t you say that ship has sailed, Miss French?”

She looked down at the dirt-stained sneakers she wore for work. In a resigned whisper, she told Mr. Gold the same thing she said to Keith at the Rabbit Hole.

“I’m not a hooker.”

“Of course not.” Mr. Gold’s voice was smooth and confident. He came out from behind the counter to stand in front of her. Slowly, he raised his hand to cup her cheek, subtly forcing her to look at him. “You’re a woman who knows what she wants and who will do whatever she needs to do to make it happen.”

Lacey’s breath shook. Her eyes were hot and she was trembling.

“What do you want?” he asked her. He really was being very patient. 

“I want to go on another date with you, Mr. Gold.”

“And what do you need to do in order to make that happen?”

“I need--” she stopped. I need a skirt wasn’t the right answer. Mr. Gold had asked her what she needed to do. “I need to get some money, Mr. Gold.”

“Ask me for it.” He gave the order like it was a caress. “Ask me for the money and I’ll give it to you, Miss French.”

 This wasn’t like with Keith. This wasn’t being so desperate for money that she’d have sex with a stranger. This was being so desperate for sex that she’d take money to make sure she’d get it. She’d let Mr. Gold pay her like a whore just to make sure he kept treating her like a slut. 

She swallowed. She had to swallow a few times before she was brave enough to speak.

“Please, Mr. Gold, will you give me fifty dollars so I can have something suitable to wear for our date tonight?”

“I would be happy too, Miss French.” He lowered his hand from her cheek and picked the bill up off of the counter. Gently, he took her hand by the wrist, placed the fifty on her palm, and closed her fingers over it.

He grinned at her.

“Buy yourself something pretty.”

Lacey clenched her jaw. Now he was enjoying this. She bit back words that would make him take the money back. Instead, she said what she knew he wanted her to say.

“Thank you, Mr. Gold.”

“You’re quite welcome, Miss French.”

He turned around then, went back behind the counter. Lacey understood she was dismissed. Facing the door, she took a breath and checked to make sure none of her tears had spilled out onto her cheeks. 

Before she opened the door, Mr. Gold called over to her. 

“Miss French,” he said. “If you happen to buy a red skirt and wear nothing underneath it, I will eat your cunt for dessert tonight.”

Lacey’s eyes went wide. Her shock was less for what Mr. Gold had said and more for his nonchalant tone. He was talking about sex in the same way he would talk about running errands.

“Do you understand me, Miss French?”

What about it did he think she didn’t understand? Then Lacey realized she hadn’t answered him. Mr. Gold expected an answer when he spoke to people. 

“Yes, Mr. Gold,” she said. Shock had made her voice a little breathy. “Thank you for telling me, Mr. Gold.”

He gave her a nod. 

Dazed and excited, Lacey left his shop and made her way down the street to Modern Fashions. She had a red skirt to buy.

[jungle-angel]

Even More Summer Prompts

Guys I’m really itching for some writing prompts/scenarios/blurbs or anything really. I’m dying to write alot but I feel like I’m stuck in a rut, writing the same thing over and over again. Send in requests, come talk, literally anything!!! (lol). Taking requests for Top Gun Maverick, Outer Range, Bad Times At The El Royale, Salem’s Lot, Catch 22 (Hulu) and Press Play. 

1. “It’s too hot to sleep, you wanna go to Wal Mart instead?” 

2. “Shit, the air conditioner broke again” 

3. “Wanna go skinny dipping?” 

4. Watching a thunderstorm roll in on the front porch

5. Inspecting for ticks

6. “You look like you need a cool bath” 

7. Lemonade or iced tea on the front porch

8. Laying in the hammock and feeling the warm sun on theirs and their s.o’s faces

9. Helping their s.o to recover from a sunburn

10. “I’ve got sand in places I’ve never even heard of” 

11. Collecting seashells and driftwood at the beach

12. Fourth of July fireworks

13. Swimming at the lake or the beach

14. “I ate so much at the cookout, I think I’m gonna explode” 

15. Summer at the rodeo

16. Hawaiian shirts

17. Who’s the grill-master? 

18. Summer garden

19. Waking up on a summer morning

20. “You wanna hang out? It’s nice and cool in here” 

21. Summer bonfires

22. Drive-in movie night 

23. Summer fishing trip

24. Ice cream for dinner (sorry I’m craving this really bad)

25. What’s on their summer playlist

26. “We don’t have enough beer.....wanna run?” 

27. Canoe trip

28. Hanging the freshly washed clothes on the clothesline 

29. Their s.o being all sweaty and getting a bath outside

30. What’s on their summer playlist?

31. Sex in the field of wildflowers (Smut)

32. Summer picnic by the lake

33. Making a flower or shell crown for their s.o

34. Pick your own corn from the cornfield

35. Summer farmers’ market

36. Heat wave

37. “Oh God, this rope swing is so old” 

38. “This is the biggest slip n slide I’ve ever seen” 

39. Baseball games

40. Day at the amusement park

41. “How do these smores come out so perfect?” 

42. Stargazing with their s.o

43. Swimming near and under a waterfall

44. Chasing down the ice cream truck

45. Summer camping trip

46. Seeing a rainbow after a thunderstorm

47. Summer road trip

48. Homemade bug repellent

49. Cooking outside during a heatwave

50. Making sure that their s.o is drinking enough water on a hot day

[sheviolentlyher]

hi.

I’ve missed you SO much. i have been thinking of you all day. how I can’t wait to type my thoughts into you— and you sit and take it without breaking eye contact and that gets my train of thought whistling.

westerns have been playing as background simulation in my head today. little pieces of gun smoke, little pieces of Yull - (my cowboy lover)— lots of pieces of rawhide. no denying me my Clint Eastwood 🙂‍↕️✨—-

—- baby you wouldn’t believe it— I felt so stunning today. this morning I was fighting myself— I wanted to go back to sleep- like my energy was on autopilot and but I was present and in my body so i felt that tug. I said NO bitch- we want all the fucking dads at the pool to hide their boners this summer— GO TO THE FUCKING GYM.

— well lookie here— a gym full of —-? Of-_. Yep MEN. fuck my favorite— I’m about to fucking be the adrenaline in their work out. I am about to give these morherfuckers a god damn workout. Hahahaha. I couldn’t look— but I could because not one of them were looking directly at me— they were using their keen peripheral vision. all these wolves and this little lamb. i didn’t do anything sexual whatsoever. I didn’t give a fuck- I just wanted to get the fuck out——- end session— unaware man follows me out of the gym— to my fucking car—- he stood there acting like a little boy with heart eyes— his train of thought made no sense— it was awkward as fuck. 🙂‍↕️

my free spirited glowing, neglected ass just absorbed it because I believe everyone deserves love— remember feminine rage is for lovers—-

I went home and fucked myself in the shower so good— I thought of at an Italian restaurant- like mob style with a very high red pleather backing. and k brought my pocket pussy— with remote control——- but you don’t know — until I handed you the remote and whispered in you ear— bet you can make me cum before he takes our drink order ——- fuck it was so good and suddenly — again— I’m high on fucking life and my existence— and I feel like the most beautiful cunt.

I wore the most beautiful floral top— it was cropped with an olive green skirt that was perfectly bonded to my luxurious curves. —— ahhh I got just what I wanted today— just enough souls of men— you know the broken eldest daughter with daddy issues type bitch. I fed my inner beast today, she rewards me with blood filled cheeks. —- anyways still want to fuck the crossing guard— it will never happen but I like to use that sexual energy selfishly for my fantasies— I decided that I am going to introduce myself the next opportunity—

i had to fuck him today— i mean had to? I didn’t enjoy it and i laid there feeling like a kings sex slave — he needed to cum — use me — whatever— then i just carry on with my life so he will leave me the fuck alone. — i wish i felt those eyes from him— i can never feel him— our energy is not connected— and i have spent years— deeply- severely- utterly— devastated about this— i told him “let’s fuck in the name of Satan” simply because this was a “fuck” not my definition of “sex” — so sin it is catholic boy.

—— i am in my hands now. i am in the hands of the creator. i am in the hands of the devil. i am in the hands of the divine. i am in the hands of existence and i am dancing.

no hate today. just cunty little comebacks and alpha energy. —- I have to remember this — I have to remember how this feels— empowering- healthy— I mean I don’t know— i am just letting things happen— no disappointment that way— plus that is when i am most creative. —-

— ahh okay— my bed calls me— i can hear it— i need sleep— i need a good deep fuck— i need to fall asleep naked— i need to be fucking admired.

— I’m sad no one has ever experienced what dreams i could bring them because i am one loyal kitty— if you admire me i give back tenfold— if you fuck me i give back tenfold— if you love me— i will make an alter in my heart— it’s not the fucking hard for one who can handle it.

—-like knights in shining fucking armor—— but your favorite part about me is that I don’t want to be saved.

-x

[allie-campbell-bradshaw]

Chapter 5: Chesapeake Bay

A/N: Welcome to the fifth chapter of Top Gun: Baby, a love story following Bradley Bradshaw and Allie Campbell. This story is sequential, so if you have not already read the first few chapters, please go back and do so! All links to chapters and their mood boards can be found on my masterlist.This is the chapter where the story really gets going! Some chapters have references to specific songs, visuals, or other miscellaneous things. In order to help you have the FULL Bradley & Allie experience, I will start posting some helpful links under my warnings for chapters that need them. This is the first chapter that has one! I mention this in my notes for every chapter, but just in case you missed it– I do not give permission for my work to be re-posted without credibility. If you do want to post this story to your page, please be sure that you tag my account or at least mention its original source in your post. Again, thank you for being here and I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, Military War Camps, Death, sex (nothing explicit), and swearing (it is the navy after all)

Helpful Links:

Endless Love - Mariah Carey & Luther Vandross (Lyrics) 🎵 - YouTube (Play this song when the lyrics are mentioned later in the chapter)

Chapter Five: Chesapeake Bay

 BRADLEY’S POV

They say that most self discovery happens right when you leave college. You are no longer being told what to do from your parents, professors, classmates. Your day isn’t planned for you. You are now on your own. Completely! Since I was unwillingly pushed into adulthood a little earlier than most, I thought I had it all figured out. I was wrong.

There are four steps to self discovery: self-awareness, awareness of interests, dreams and ambitions, and career discovery. All four of the components were thrown at me during training this summer which forced me to reflect upon them.

The easiest one to answer was my career discovery, which I already had a pretty good handle on at the start of the summer. Naval aviation has been the path of my dreams, guiding me through life for as long as I can remember. Every time I was on a plane, I was home. I was transported to a world of comfort that seemed impossible to find on the ground. The sky was my first love, my true love, and quite possibly, my one and only love.

My dreams and ambitions were also put into fruition this summer. Natasha and I had grown incredibly close, sharing the commonality of aviation. She was the first person I met in this space. She found me, sticking out like a sore thumb on the first day of camp. I always thought I would be happy with just being in the air and serving my country, but she talked me into aiming higher, not wanting to settle for the minimum. While I admit that I was content with reaching the rank of lieutenant by the time of retirement, and partaking in various deployments, I now hold that as the minimum of accomplishments that I want to achieve with the Navy. Now I challenge myself to reach for higher stars, constantly daydreaming of a day where I could attend Top Gun. I too could graduate from that school and be in the top 1%. The odds of it happening were slim, but now I had something to work for that was beyond anything I could ever be in control of. If you reach for a dream that goes beyond the scope of the sky, then being up there doesn’t seem as traitorous. There was something even beyond that sky, something I couldn’t get to on my own, something that I never would have considered if it wasn’t for Natasha.

Self-awareness. This was the hardest one for me. My body was pushed to limits I never thought I could achieve, as evident by the bruises and scrapes that littered my body by the end of July. I was put into a place mentally that made me sympathize with every naval man and woman who was currently battling PTSD. We were put in situations this summer that no human being would find comfortable, reaching a level of stress that would sometimes cause you to black out. Knowing that there were ones suffering beyond that limit in military war camps, tore at my heartstrings. They made sure to tell us that things in the real world could get a lot worse than what we were currently going through. It baffled me at first, as I was sitting in that lecture hall, still shaking from morning PEP and completely sleep deprived. We were all going to go through it at some point, anxiety of being shot down, nightmares of our worst battles, fear of burning in when our jet engines fail. It was going to happen. An inevitable that I would one day have to battle head on.

With my mental capacity now stretched to the max, I had more time to reflect on my strengths and weaknesses. My top strengths consisted of the passion that I had for growing in my career field, always wanting to learn, and never settling for the knowledge that I have already obtained. With that strength came a weakness that I knew I would never overcome–my insecurity and aftermath of shutting people out. Everyone I knew got a taste of what that looked like on the first day of training. I was a perfectionist, and with that came an intense kick in the balls when I made a mistake. When that happened, I shut out, not wanting to be around anyone. Shutting people out was easier than talking through my mistakes. That was the one thing I had to learn to choke down during the summer, because I always had someone in my ear pointing out the mistakes I made.

I had learned how to accept making mistakes, taking the feedback in humbly and honorably, but the sting was still there. The knowledge of fucking up and being called out by my classmates and superiors hurt like a bitch. But I took it! I had no other choice. By the end of the camp, Denzel told me that this was the area he had seen the most growth in for me, admiring my ability to accept my punishments and internalizing the newfound correction. That still didn’t excuse my shutting people out, and the self torment I would undergo in the process of accepting feedback, but it was a way to view this weakness as a positive.

Awareness of interests was the one I had the most fun with. Emmett and I were super close, and always looking for activities to do together. I was lucky enough to find that the rec room had a piano, leading all of my classmates in songs who were willing to stay and listen. We played for as long as we could, belting out anything from Queen or Prince. I took the liberty of learning the piano cover of the songs Kiss and Purple Rain, which served as the campus favorites that summer. Even some of the Officers on base would look for an excuse to come by the rec center during freetime to watch us. Music was my favorite pastime.

***

“Show me again mom.” 10 year old Bradley requested from his mother, who was looking on at her younger brother and his bride with admiring eyes as they glided along the dance floor.

Carole looked over at Bradley, who looked incredibly handsome in his white button down shirt and khaki pants. His suspenders and maroon gardenia boutonniere created the perfect finishing touches on his rapidly growing body. 

“How is he already in 4th grade?!” She thought to herself as her son watched his uncle and new aunt in admiration. He was such a romantic at heart, thinking about his own future wedding as he attended his uncles.

“Alright.” She agreed lovingly, turning to Bradley and holding her arms out. Bradley took hers and rested one of his on her waist and another rested in her hand, which was only a few years away from being the same size as hers.

And I

I want to share

All of my love with you

Carole was swaying Bradley to the music, watching as he started to grasp the concept of the rhythm, stealing glances over at the piano player in admiration. He was always fascinated by bands and live music, but pianos were his favorite.

Carole followed his gaze and couldn’t help but feel a piece of her break as she admitted to herself that he shared yet another interest that Nick had. His eyes were twinkling as the piano player pressed on the keys with such grace.

No one else will do

And your eyes (your eyes, your eyes)

They tell me how much you care

Oh, yes

You’ll always be

My endless love

“What’s wrong mom?” Bradley asked, looking into her eyes that had tears coming down as she stared ahead, thinking of her two favorite boys.

She looked over at him and realized her tears were what he was referring to. She sniffled and brought her hand to her cheek, about to wipe it away when Bradley quickly grabbed her hand and moved it away.

“No mom! You’ll ruin your makeup.” He reached into the front pocket of his dress shirt that was right above his heart and took out his handkerchief, the initials “N C B” were stitched on the corner. It was his dads, one of the many things that he had from Nick Conrad Bradshaw, which were now in his possession. 

Carole let out an admiring laugh as she watched her son, who was focused on her face, dab the stray tears that escaped her eyes. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“Cami showed me this morning when they were getting ready.” Bradley stated, referring to the bride and her bridesmaids, “They were all crying a lot.”

Carole watched as he finished his work and put his cloth back securely in his pocket. “Why did they cry?” He asked his mom, confused.

She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to understand his question, “What do you mean?”

“They were all crying this morning. Does she not want to marry Uncle Paul?”

Carole couldn’t help but let out a laugh when she realized what her boy was asking. “Oh no baby! Those weren’t sad tears. They were happy tears?”

Bradley looked confused, not understanding what she was saying. She went on; “When you love someone so much, or are so excited to do something, or finally get something you’ve worked really hard for, it can make you cry happy tears. It’s how your body reacts to those great things.”

“Were those happy tears mama?” Bradley asked her, referring to her crying from a few moments ago.

“Yes baby,” she said, her heart filling with the same overwhelming expression that caused them to come out a few minutes ago, swallowing hard so they wouldn’t come out again, “They were happy tears”.

Bradley held his arms out to start dancing again, which Carole gladly accepted. He watched as his uncle picked up Cami and spun her around. Bradley lit up at their grace, a smile spread across his face.

His mother let out a laugh and then picked him up in the same way, mirroring her brother’s actions with her own son.

Bradley was beaming and turning red at the sudden movement. “Mom! I’m supposed to do that to you!”

“Save it for later baby,” she said to him as she set him down, “Save it for the woman you marry.”

“Who am I going to marry?” He asked her innocently, not really understanding how all of this worked.

“I don’t know, baby. You’ll meet her one day. When you least expect it. And you’ll make her very happy.”

“I will!?” Bradley asked, with a very excited tone in his voice.

“You will!” She assured him, as they continued to sway to the rest of the music, looking at each other and smiling.

***

Knowing that I had found solace in Emmett’s tomfoolery and having him accept my goofiness right back, it didn’t take long for me to let go of my meekness at the start of the summer. I was shy and reserved because I wanted to make a good impression. Now that I felt like I had, I could let go a little bit, and I did just that!

No one in the dormitories were surprised to see Emmett and I stumbling down the hallway belting out Bohemian Rhapsody in the middle of the afternoon. It had become a daily assurance that everything was running smoothly:

“So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye

So you think you can love me and leave me to die

Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby,

Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here”

Emmett and I were laughing against the wall of the Alpha corridor, looking for Natasha before heading to King Hall for lunch. A few men who were walking out (and we all knew why they were there… ) stopped and laughed at us, clearly enjoying our show.

It was the last Saturday before the start of the school year, and many second, third, and fourth years were moving into the dorms, taking a few of the empty rooms that were in each corridor. There was a lot of traffic, and we were in the way, but we didn’t care!

Since it was the last weekend, the Academy let us have “Open Campus” meaning there was no PEP and we were free to leave as long as we were back in time for our first class, whenever that may be.

I was fortunate enough to have almost the same schedule as Emmett, with the only exception being that I was taking Flight Training I and he was taking Submarine Survival Training I. I wouldn’t be alone in the flight course though, as Javy and Natasha were both in it too.

It felt nice having these bonds, and even nicer knowing that we shared so many commonalities. I knew I would see all three of them again after this. I would see Natasha and Javy at all of the flight schools and trainings we have to go to after this, and I’m sure Emmett would find his way onto a carrier one day. Hell, he would probably bring the submarine up to the surface and come out just to wave at us from the catapult. 

“You two are ass clowns!” Natasha said as she came out of her room, sporting her khaki service uniform.

“Thank you!” Emmett excitedly said to her “compliment”.

“Why are you dressed up?” I asked her, commenting on her uniform. Since it was Open Campus, we could dress down. I was wearing medium washed gym shorts and a yellow, gray, and black designed Hawaiian shirt on a white base. The heat of today made me skip over the A-shirt that I normally wore underneath. Instead, I let 3 buttons hang loose, showing off the small patch of chest hair that I had in between my pectorals. Emmett and I were wearing our new dog tags. Everyone that survived plebe summer got them yesterday. I think we only had 4 or 5 drop outs, a significantly low number compared to other years. I was obsessed with the black tactical military watch that they gave us, which fit perfectly on my right arm, right above my wrist. Emmett had on a navy V-neck T shirt and khaki shorts. His dog tags hanging over his shirt.

“I was going to go to the library,” Natasha answered, looking over at me. “Read up on some planes”.

Emmett acted like he was falling asleep, leaning over my shoulder and closing his eyes. “Jesus Trace, camp is over!” He said over my shoulder.

“And just how are you being productive today Frasier?” Natasha snapped.

“Look Natasha,” He began, standing up tall, but keeping his hand pressed firmly on my shoulder next to him, “This is our first time where we’re able to leave all summer. There’s a beach party at Chesapeake Bay this evening. Do you want to tell your future husband or future smoking hot girlfriend that you spent your newfound naval freedom sitting in Nimitz?”

Natasha looked over at me with an unimpressed expression when Emmett brought up her future partners and never broke it with me, yet still listening to every word he said. I raised my eyebrows and cocked my head at her, giving in to the good point that Emmett had made.

She shook her head at me, unimpressed with the fact that I took Frasier’s side over hers, which was very rare.

She let out a huff and walked back into her dorm room to change, needing no more convincing to go out with us.

__________________________________________________________

All three of us were walking through the sand towards the direction of the other midshipmen and women. Natasha was wearing a gray Guns N’ Roses T-shirt and khaki shorts. Emmett had borrowed my ray bans so he could scour the crowd, not wanting women to know he was checking them out. I didn’t mind. We had been shut up in our dorm for the last 10 weeks, with no contact from the outside world. He was horny, and I’m not going to lie, I was feeling it too. The only difference was I was 23 and he was 18. He was more horny for the experience and I was just navigating through a spell. Shit it had nearly been 3 months already when camp started,  and the adrenaline and confidence that camp gave me led to a new wave. I don’t know... It’s not that important to me. Right now. Give it a few more weeks and I’m sure I will be out scourging too.

“Hey Natasha!” yelled one of the other Alpha girls, waving at Trace who was standing right next to me. The other girl was in an area that had a mix of grass and sand, a portable volleyball net was set up in the center of the area.

Natasha looked over at us so as to say she was going to leave us for awhile. I was surprised to see that there wasn’t a trace of plea or guilt in her face. Almost like she didn’t care that she was deserting us. She turned back around and ran towards the girl that yelled for her, both of them slapping each other's backs as she joined in on the game.

I turned my attention back to the other games that were going on. A few guys were playing tackle football right by the water, an obvious shirts vs. skins game was underway. Of course, the skins were a little bigger in build, obviously fourth years. The shirts were getting creamed, with everyone getting knocked down every time they got the ball. A lot of girls, whom I had never seen before, were gawking over at them to the side. It was clear by their stance and lack of muscle tone that they were not academy students. Okay, so this was an open invitation, not just academy students attending.

A few jet skis were twirling around the water, men steering while women held onto their shoulders, laughing as they maneuvered through the water.

Emmett lowered my sunglasses from his face, eyes wide and mouth wide open, salivating at the amount of estrogen in the vicinity. I let out a wide smile and laugh at his reaction. You would think the man had never seen pussy before. I had heard enough stories about his adventures in high school to confidently say that he was well experienced. Even more than me, but he didn’t need to know that. The funny part was that he asked me for advice, not knowing that my body count was significantly lower. I gave him a few pointers, using them more as an experiment to see if it worked on him before trying them out on myself. I know, I can be a bastard, but little shits like Emmett deserved it!

“Okay,” He said, finally breaking the silence, “Now that visitors can come to campus, I think we should have a talk. Like how to communicate if we have a girl in the room or something, so that way you don’t come home... Or I don’t come home” He quickly added, giving me some representation.

“What did you have in mind?” I asked, a little snarky at this whole thing, but still in a friendly mood. For as much as I thought the whole thing was immature and stupid, he did have a point. I didn’t need to see his dick anymore than I already have to when we’re quickly changing before PEP. And yeah, he didn’t need to see mine anymore also.

“Okay so I was thinking, we could have a secret word that’s like on a sticky note that we put right by the handle of our door. Something that communicates like what we’re doing so we know how long we have to wait. So I could write like “banana socks” on the note and you would know it was just oral, so it won’t be very long. Or “Lionel Richie” to mean that we plan on going all night long, so you may want to stay somewhere else”.

I was pretending to look interested, nodding as I listened to the shit coming out of his mouth, obviously unimpressed. “Or,” I interjected, “You could just text me”.

Emmett froze, an embarrassed look on his face for the moronic thing he just suggested to me, his hands resting on his hips in the way he always does. “Or yeah,” He agreed, “Yeah we could do that”.

I slapped on his shoulder and walked over to the area where people were building a large fire, with sticks at least 3-4 feet taller than me! I saw at least a dozen coolers and helped myself to one that was labeled “Budweiser”, opening the can and taking a drink as I sat down on the log that was next to me.

Emmett had found his way to a group of women, two of them already enjoying his arms draped around them. I knew it would only be a matter of hours before I got a text from him, making a mental note to stay here as long as possible.

The sun was setting right at the line of the water now, causing an orange glow to hit everyone. I loved the sun. And the heat. My dream would be to live in California, but I’m unfortunately in a career field where higher ups would tell me where my ass was going to live…Maybe when I retire then.

I was gazing over at the water when I froze, my eyes fixed on a woman that was sitting at the dock surrounded by two other girls. All three of them were swinging their legs over the dock, resting their weight on their wrists, which were sitting behind their backs.

Her curled blonde hair was swaying in the slight breeze and she was giggling at her friends. She was wearing a red floral sundress, with white flowers printed in the design. Her dress had spaghetti straps which fit snugly over her shoulders. She was far from me, but I could see an anklet shining in the sun that was resting on her right foot.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of her! All I saw was half of her face over my left shoulder, and I could already tell that the rest of her was even more breathtaking. She laughed at her friend, pulling her hand up and running it through her hair. God. By this time, my body was turned completely so I was facing her dead on, instead of over my shoulder.

As she brought her arm up and was halfway scratched through her hair, she looked over at me. Purely by accident, but one that I was not going to complain about. Her smile slowly dropped as she continued to watch me watching her.

I quickly dropped my gaze and looked down at my beer, before looking back up at her. She still had her eyes on me, but looked completely unimpressed, before turning back to her conversation with her friends. She snuck in one more peak, rolling her eyes at me before completely turning her attention to her friends.

I looked over at her friends. One was in a purple sundress and had long deep brown hair. The other was in a green sundress and had beautifully deep skin and very curly hair, I believe it’s called Kinky Hair,  that was tied back in a bun at the back of the top of her head. I took another swig of my beer as I continued to watch them.

Her two friends looked back at me right away, breaking into smiles and giggles as they had their eyes on me. She swatted at the one in the purple dress, causing her friends to laugh loud and then turn back to her. I blushed, knowing that I was the current topic conversation between her and her friends.

I didn’t want to cause any drama, so I turned my focus back to the shirts and skins football game that looked like it was coming to a close. I made sure to always steal a few glances over to the girls that were still at the dock.

Within the next few minutes, the fire was started and I was almost done with my second beer, taking in all of the conversations that were going on around me, yet my focus stayed solely on the girls that were at the dock, who stretched out their limbs after realizing how sore they were. They had been there for almost 30 minutes now.

“Bradshaw!” I heard Natasha yell from behind me.

I stole one more glance at the group and then turned my body to her. She looked over at the direction of the dock and put all of the pieces together. “Is Frasier going to have to stay in my dorm tonight?” she asked, with a teasing tone in her voice, but there was a sincerity to her question.

“No, but I think I might” I said to her, knowing Emmett was off doing something somewhere. I smirked at her as we both admitted the nature of what was happening with Frasier tonight.

I looked back over my shoulder and saw that the girls were gone. The sky was dark now, and the only light was coming from the fire and also the random lights from the beach houses. Regardless, it was hard to look, and I was looking hard to find them. Wanting to see if the one in the red dress went over to another guy or anything.

Eventually, they came into sight through the light of the fire, about 30 feet away from me. I watched them as they walked towards the fire and made eye contact with the red one. She froze in her tracks, meeting my gaze for a moment. Her friends stopped moving as well, looking at me and then turning to her.

I set my empty beer can down next to the log and stood up, making it clear that I was going to approach them. Her two friends moved to the side so as to get out of my way. I made a few steps forward when I saw her run over to her friends and whisper something to them, holding onto their hands as they giggled.

She leaned into them, her back to me. I knew I shouldn’t look at her back side, but I did. Of course, her dress was flowy enough that you couldn’t see anything but the tiniest lump, letting you know that it was at least there. I looked up, running my eyes up her back to her neck when she started to walk in the opposite direction, her back to me and hair flowing as she picked up the pace, making her way to the parking lot.

I picked up my own pace and grazed right by her friends, who had their eyes on me, holding their breath as I took my shot.

“Hey,” I said calmly to her, only a few steps away.

She froze as I reached my arm out, wanting to touch her, to see if her skin

was as smooth as I imagined it was. Nothing too much, but enough to see if there was a spark when our skin touched. Enough to grab her attention and let her know that I was gentle.

However, when she froze, I froze too. Not just my legs, but my arms, my head, my mind, everything! Anything I had planned on doiing now went blank, all cards out in the wind. I had nothing to rely on. 

She turned to me, looking unenthused. “Yes?” she asked, more wanting to know what I wanted than so as to welcome our conversation.

I looked into her eyes, they were a clear hazel color, with a hint of green more than brown. My eyes bounced from one of hers to the other. Now was my chance to take in all of her facial features. She had a light layer of makeup on, not a lot like some of the other girls here. Her eyebrows were a thin brown and her nose matched the frame of her face. Her lips were filled with the perfect amount of flesh, not too thin and not too plump.

I couldn’t hold back my sly smirk as I looked at her features. She brought her head forward, giving it a little shake and raising her eyebrows. “What?” she asked impatiently.

“Take a walk with me?” I asked her. I will admit there was a little bit of a demand in my tone, but it was more of a question. I just wanted to seem a little more aggressive and not as submissive as other people in this Academy. 

“No.” She said as she shook her head a little.

“Um,” I started, trying to find the words to say, closing my eyes and squinting my face. What was she doing to me? “Look, I know what it looks like. A guy you don’t even know staring at you all night, but I had to. I was so attracted to you. I felt like gravity was pushing me towards you”. 

“Is that so?” She asked, raising the tone of her voice a little to show her curiosity, crossing her arms.

“Yeah” I said to her in a quick deep tone.

“You’ve got a little drool there.” She said, raising her arm and pointing to the left corner of my mouth, hers only a millimeter away from mine. Maybe less. I could feel the heat radiating from her finger and I’m sure she could feel the breath coming out of my nose on the tip.

I felt like my heart was about to stop. “Goodbye” she said to me, as she brought her arm back to her others, crossing them again. She turned on her heel and started walking away towards the parking lot.

I was so stunned with our interaction that I just had to give in and not follow her. On any other day, if it was anyone else, I would’ve ran after them. But she wasn’t like them. She was different. She was not someone that threw themselves at me like others that I had interacted with during my dating years. She was sassy, and confident, and beautiful. I didn’t even ask for her name or her number. Nothing. I had never seen her around before and didn’t know if I ever would again.

Shit! This reminded me of advice that my mom would give me, after I was beating myself up for not talking to a girl that I saw in a hotel lobby when we were at a baseball tournament. When we were driving home, she told me that if it was meant to be, then I would see her again, as a way for God to tell us that we were meant to be together. I never saw that girl again, and honestly had completely forgotten about her until now.

This was the logic that would get me through with this girl. If I was meant to be with her, I would see her again. If not, I would forget about her just like I did the hotel girl. I turned around, facing my rejection a lot better than I would have a few months ago. Thank you summer camp! I made my way back to the fire. As I was walking, I saw her friends in my periphery. They had their backs turned and were giggling as I walked away “Oh my God” I heard the brunette whisper to the other one.

I blushed as I kept on walking, making my way to the logs which were now completely filled with students and their dates. They were singing the navy song Anchors Aweigh, very out of tune and barley together, obviously the alcohol was wearing on people. Today was the last day for this. In 48 hours I will be an official freshman at the United States Naval Academy. I will be balls deep in academics and training, preparing for a career that I have had to fight for the opportunity to perform. My life felt like it was falling into place right here in Chesapeake Bay. I cracked open another beer, entering into the conversations that people had around the fire, letting fate take its course with every aspect of my life.

[softguarnere]

Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 11: Gosvnoyi Dvninvi

Summary: Zenie’s throat is dry when she issues the challenge. “Flash!”

A/N: The moment we've been waiting for: D-Day

(I couldn't figure out the Cherokee translation for D-Day, so this chapter title translates to "tonight they are falling to the ground")

Warnings: guns, war, language

Taglist: @liebgotts-lovergirl @latibvles @mrs-murder-daddy @lieutenant-speirs

The skies, 1944

The equipment is weighing her down, slapping heavily against her in some places and rubbing her raw in others as she moves, always upward, upward, upward. No matter how many bends she rounds, thinking to herself that surely this will be the top, Currahee always reveals more of the trail that unravels ahead of her.

The trees are half bare, allowing her to catch glimpses of the blue mountains and sprawling town off to her left. She’s scrambling toward the top, but none of the scenery ever seems to get more distant.

I’ll meet you at the top, a voice in her head promises her.

Sometimes when they run the mountain, Zenie feels like if she could just move fast enough, she would be able to outrun something; to break free from it all. Now, she’s running alone, and it feels like something is after her – perhaps all the things that she’s trying to leave behind are catching up with her.

I’ll meet you at the top.

She rounds the last corner. She recognizes this one. There’s the rock outcropping at the top!

The trail is so steep and her equipment so heavy that Zenie is practically on her hands and knees as she scrabbles up the homestretch.

As promised, a figure is standing at the end of the trail. They’re facing away from her, hands on their hips as they stare out over the edge of the mountain. Even though Zenie is gasping for air and sending gravel spraying from beneath her boots, they never show any indication that they hear her coming. Or maybe they just don’t care.

A few more steps and she’s there. She made it! The top of Currahee welcomes her once again.

Instead of stopping, she pushes herself onward, hand outstretched to the figure in front of her. She’s not sure what comes over her. She grabs the person’s shoulder and turns them around to face her, only to see –

Herself.

She jolts awake. Around her, darkness. The engine of the C-47 roars as they tremble through the sky. Loud as it is, she thinks that she can sometimes hear the whispers of those around her as they cross themselves. Maybe she’s imagining it.

She could be imagining anything and everything. Ever since she took that pill, she’s felt unsteady and a little giddy. The cool night air from the doorway of the plane is refreshing. If she closes her eyes, it’s like being on their first nighttime practice jump.

Across from her, Bill catches her eye. He’s whispering something to himself. Methodically, he thumbs through the beads on his rosary. He nods to her but doesn’t stop. She nods back and leaves it at that.

Her eyes wander back to the doorway. The very doorway she’ll be throwing herself out of soon.

But at the moment, it looks like a portal to another world. Inky blackness forms the night sky, although every now and then there’s a flash of light, like heat lightning flickering over the mountains on summer nights back home. Every now and then she can hear popping, like gravel pinging off the sides of a truck. For a split second, all seems still as history holds its breath.

Everything after that moves quickly.

The red light by the door comes on. No sooner is it washing them in its glow then they hear the call.

“Get ready!”

Zenie still feels icky from the pill, but any giddy or dreamy feelings gained from it are quickly lost. She snaps into action, holding up the hook for her static line just like everyone else.

“Stand up!”

They’ve done this so many times that they don’t even jostle into each other when they stand.

“Hook up!”

All the flashing lights from outside the plane are growing more frequent, the sounds that accompany them becoming louder. The plane shudders as they follow the last instruction.

Hardly any time passes between the call for equipment check and the order to sound off for it. From behind, she can hear the rustlings of fabric on fabric as men pat each other down. She’s jostled as she receives her pat down followed by the cry of, “Seven okay!”

She feels the man in front of her, relying on touch to make sure that everything is where it’s supposed to be. When she yells “Six okay!” she practically screams it, just to make sure that she’s heard through the haze and the noise; she doesn’t want something going awry all thanks to her and her inability to speak up when it counts.   

When the last voice calls out, they all wait for the red light to turn green. The sounds of antiaircraft fire are becoming closer and more frequent. She can hear the telltale sounds of metal on metal as the planes are hit. Is the one she’s on taking too much fire?

The plane shudders in response and pitches to the left, causing all the paratroopers in the stick to stumble as they try to stay upright. The pilots manage to right them, sending them scrambling as they try to keep in line. Even with all the darkness outside, it’s evident that they’ve lost altitude.

A deep moaning sound fills the sky around them. Through the doorway, she catches a glimpse of the back half of a C-47 as it falls to the earth. It looks like a comet streaking through the night sky. The front half of the plane is nowhere to be seen.

“Christ, we gotta go!” Someone yells out.

“We ain’t high enough!”

“The light’s not green!”

If they keep losing altitude, they’ll never get to see the light turn green. They’ll never make it out of the plane. That seems like a worse fate than anything that awaits them in the air outside. Zenie’s heart races as she thinks about pushing past the others in the stick so she can just get this jump over with.

Green washes over them. It’s the moment they’ve anticipated, but for a second, everyone remains still, like they can’t believe it’s actually happening.

“Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!”

One by one, the paratroopers in front of her fling themselves out of the plane. Nothing but a silky stream is left behind them as their unopened parachutes slip out of their packs. A few people yell a triumphant Currahee! or Geronimo! as they go. Some of them just yell.

Laughter almost bubbles up in Zenie’s chest. She’s yelled Currahee! on all their practice jumps, just to take her mind off of what awaits her below. Her friends hardly ever seemed to echo the call. Shifty usually just let out a string a cuss words that always seemed so unlike him. But when you need something to yell, anything will do.

She’s next in line. Her Mae West popped back in England. She can only hope she doesn’t land in water. She can only hope that she makes it to the ground.

She’s in the doorway. “Holy shit,” she whispers as she approaches the precipice.

Before she can overthink it, she throws herself out of the plane, “Currahee!” on the edge of her lips. The night is so loud when she sails through the door that it gets lost in all the noise. She’s sure that she counts the faithful one thousand, two thousand, three thousand, four thousand! before her static line unhooks, but her words disappear into the night. A shock runs through her body as her parachute opens behind her, filling with air and slowing her descent into the madness that is taking place all around her.

Brightly colored tracers light up the night sky like an Independence Day celebration. Popping explosions sound off from every direction. She cringes, hoping they don’t get too close to her. Tugging on her parachute’s risers won’t do her any good if she doesn’t know which way they’re coming from.

A roar like a lion comes from overhead as a plane spirals down towards the earth. It meets the cold and unforgiving embrace of the ground below. An orange glow like a distant campfire lights up the ground below as the plane is engulfed in flames. It’s too far away for her to have to worry about, but Zenie pulls on her risers anyway. To think that only a few moments before she had been most worried about landing in water seems absurd now.

Knees and feet together, just like she was taught, Zenie still topples over when she hits the ground. She frees herself from her parachute before worrying with her weapon –

Which is gone. Her leg bag is no longer attached to her leg. Shit.

Staccatos from the distance grab her attention. Right, she’s got a job to do. But how to do it with no supplies . . .

Luckily, she didn’t land in water. Squinting through the darkness, she can make out the clearing that she’s in. A field of some sort, maybe. Trees and shrubs lie a few feet behind her. It’s too dark to tell if they lead into a denser wood or if they just denote a property line. Either way, they could provide cover, should she need it.

“Ha!” A few feet away, an oblong shape rests in the grass. Wasting no time, Zenie rushes to her bag and rips it open.

Except that it’s not her bag. Nothing inside is organized the way that she packed hers. In her rush, maybe she could convince herself that things got tossed around during the fall. But the rifle inside is distinctly not her M1 Garand – it looks like the Lee-Enfields that she’s seen the British carrying around back in England.

Okay, not her leg bag. But at least now she has a weapon and ammo.

There’s no time to feel bad about taking someone else’s leg bag. Ahead of her, through the darkness, a figure appears. Thanks to Sobel’s night marches, Zenie can usually make out any of the men from her company in the darkness.

None of this figure’s mannerisms are familiar, though. It moves slowly, like it hasn’t seen her yet – or like it’s hoping that she hasn’t seen it.

Zenie’s throat is dry when she issues the challenge. “Flash!”

The figure freezes. No response.

Maybe he didn’t hear her? She gulps before trying again, a little louder. “Flash!”

This time he definitely hears her. He starts moving forward, charging her.

There’s no time to think. Zenie lifts the rifle, aims, and pulls the trigger.

Bang! He stumbles backward. Bang! It’s like watching a puppet get its strings cut. The German soldier falls to the ground, dead. It’s as simple as that.

Zenie lowers her rifle and stares at the motionless figure on the ground. “Oh my – “

“Flash!”

On instinct, she raises the rifle again as she swings around to where the voice came from. In the foliage a few feet behind her, a figure is crouched down, watching her.

“Thunder!” She replies, hoping the night doesn’t swallow up her voice.

The figure in the tree line stands and takes a step forward.

“Shifty!” She starts toward him at the same time. They rush to each other. Euphoria at having found a familiar face in this fearsome and strange place washes over her. It doubles over the fact that it’s his face.

“You got him,” Shifty says. He places a hand on her arm. He’s so close when he whispers, “Are you okay?”

Zenie nods, stepping closer, closing what little space there is between them. Her heart is slamming against her ribcage as it tries to break free. She wonders if Shifty can hear it. She can’t answer over its pounding. And certainly not with the way that he’s looking at her, so full of concern.

Their eyes meet. Her breath hitches in her throat.

The next thing that she knows, they’re both leaning toward each other, her face angled slightly upward while Shifty bends down a little. There’s a second’s pause, like they’re asking each other for permission, and then her eyes are squeezed shut and her lips are crashing into his.

Shifty’s lips are slightly chapped. It doesn’t matter to her. And nothing about hers seems to matter to him. The only thing that matters is that for just a moment, the outside world comes to a grinding halt while they create their own little universe for just the two of them. Philosophers and scientists would marvel at the sweet isolation they’ve created in the midst of this chaos and call it heaven on earth.

When they part for air, they rest their foreheads against each other, even with their helmets in the way. Still, she can see into his eyes. See how they light up the darkness with his smile. He’s smiling – at her! The thought fills her with such giddiness that something between a giggle and a sigh of relief bubbles up in her chest. For so long, looking at Shifty felt like trying to catch a glimpse of the sun; something that could only be done in quick glances. Now, as they look into each other’s eyes, it feels like she’s looking at the moon – something that is possible and familiar and lovely.

“Did we really just do that?” Zenie gasps.

“Lord have mercy,” Shifty breathes.

Privately, Zenie thinks maybe He already has. What, short of a real-life miracle, could have allowed someone as good and as kind as Shifty Powers to look at her in this way?

Are you okay? he had asked her. She didn’t answer his question. What could she have said after having just killed a man? Now, though, she feels more than okay. With him here –

Him. Shifty. Here.

Zenie pulls away and breaks the boundaries of their little bliss and regrets it immediately. But she has to know, to get her bearings. Because if Shifty, from third platoon, is here with her, from second –

“Zena?”

“Oh my God,” she whispers in disbelief as she glances around the dark field. “I’m in the wrong goddamn Drop Zone.”

“Oh.” Shifty looks around, his face falling a bit. “Or maybe I am?”

Despite it all, Zenie finds herself smiling. “Maybe we both are.”

If she has to be lost, she’s glad it’s with Shifty.

“Maybe so.” He smiles back at her. His hand lingers near her elbow and her hand still rests on his chest. He seems reluctant to part from the remnants of their privacy when he suggests, “We should probably get movin’. Try to find some others.”

In the distance, the scattered staccatos of gun fire pop off in the night. The war – the very thing that brought them together – is being waged all around them. It’s ever present and inescapable. They’ve had their moment of peace within it. Now it’s time to get back to reality . . . and to hope it won't tear them apart.

Before they do, Zenie leans in – deliberately this time, to give him warning in case he wants to stop – and kisses him again. It’s quicker this time, and she can feel him smiling into it. When they’re done, she grabs the British leg bag she found, intent on carrying it with them, since its owner clearly won’t be using it. She gives Shifty a nod to signal that she’s ready.

He returns the gesture. Then they walk into the darkness – into the unpredictability of war – side by side.

Together.

[roadtogracelandx45]

Among Angels|1| Top Gun Maverick

masterlist

Iceman head cannon

*author's note* I am actually like this version alot better than Chasing Angels so far. Also the Charlie who is mentioned is the one from the first top gun movie

Second chapter will come next Wednesday

Summer 2005 

Tom “Iceman’ Kazansky wasn’t happy, in fact he was borderline furious, his daughter Bianca had gotten into the Naval Academy and was graduating at the top of her class, co valadicton with Steven Kerner the son of his former RIO and his husband Pete had decided at the last minute that he wanted to take a mission that would put him in the middle of  Indian Ocean for 6 weeks starting the day before she graduated. 

Right as their daughter was getting ready to  graduate and  ready to go to the Naval Academy. He forgave a lot with him, but this was not forgivable .  And Bianca was completely heartbroken about it,  though she played it off much like Maverick would have, cracking jokes and doing stupid stuff it still hurt her. So much so that she told his sister Ana that she only ever felt like she was Ice’s daughter, that when Maverick was around he cared more about Bradley then he did about her. 

And she was  his kid.  

And it had caused a lot of tension between Bianca and Bradley who had been super close when they were growing up, close enough that when he found out that Bianca wasn’t going to her junior prom due to not being asked, left school for the weekend and showed up at the Kazansky’s house and went with her. And for that Iceman would be forever grateful for that.  It made her special and wanted by people other than the members of their family. 

“Hey Commander, got a second?” A small voice came from the entrance of his office on the Naval base. Iceman, having been shaking from his thoughts, looked up and smiled. “For my daughter, I have all the time in the world.”  Bianca offered him a sad smile before she went into the office and folded herself into a ball on the leather couch.

 “Everything okay?” He asked as he got up to join her. Usually she never visited his office, she waited until he got home to talk about what happened at school.  “No.”  He knelt in front of her. “I went home early from school.” Seeing the look on her father’s face, “I wasn’t feeling good, Aunt Ana came and picked me up.” Bianca never skipped school unless she was sick like she was for a week in her junior year, “When we got home, Maverick was there.” 

She never referred to Maverick as her father, it was always Maverick.  That underlying anger that he had in him,  just under the surface, was bubbling up. He leaves for months on end and just shows up and throws everything out of whack. 

 “What happened?” 

“He  didn’t realize it was me.  He thought I was Uncle Alex’s daughter. How can someone forget his daughter? I know you sent pictures to him. I don’t look that much different do I?” 

Recently she and Iceman’s younger sister Ana  dyed her hair a red color which matched her personality well.  In fact it brought it out more.  “No sweetheart. You don’t look any different, just more beautiful.’  A small smile played on the corner of her mouth. 

“Was he always like this? Just up and leaving then showing up again when it's good for him?” He had moved to sit next to her couch and ran his hand over his head, ‘Yeah, he has always been like this.” “Then why be with you and why agree to raise me with you?” 

 “That kid I couldn’t tell you when you were first born, he was home a lot, he brought Bradley to meet you at the hospital. He carted you around more than I was able to. You were the light in a dark time in his life.” ‘If that was the case Dad, why doesn’t he want anything to do with me?  He would rather be around Bradley than me.”

 Ice put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. “I don’t know baby girl. I don’t.” The aide  knocked on the door, “Commander, they are ready for you.” “I should get home. I left Ana and Alex alone with Maverick.” He nodded his head before pressing  a kiss against the side of her head, “I will be home soon.” 

“Yes sir.” She grinned before standing up and brushing  past the aide who turned his head to watch her walk away before he met the Commanders eyes and flushed. “She is 17, and is off  limits to Sanders.”  “What are you going to do sir, when she is in Maryland thousands of miles away.’ 

 The commander smirked at that, he had friends all over the country and the woman that carried Bianca for him and Maverick, Charlie was  at the academy and would keep an eye on her too. She would be covered, but there was no way in hell he was going to admit that out loud.

~*~

The third garage door was open when Bianca pulled into her normal spot and frowned seeing Maverick standing tinkering with the old Mustang that they had gotten her for her 15th birthday. The last real time she had seen or spent time with him. His dark eyes went to her as she got out of the car. 

“Are you going to run away again?” He asked.

 ‘Are you?” She returned twirling the key ring around her finger, “What are you doing here Mav?” “You are graduating in a week.” 

She faked surprise and clapped her hands together, “Wow, I am surprised you knew that.” “I.” He started. “Don’t bullshit me Mav, you don’t remember anything or what to come home for anything . I wouldn’t be surprised if Dad or myself dropped dead that you would come rushing back from the carrier or that god damn hanger in the middle of nowhere.” 

 “How did you know about that?” 

Bianca raised her eyes to the sky and then back at him, “I went through your personnel file. Dad had it open on his computer and I was there working on homework. So I looked. And one day when I didn’t have school, I drove out there and saw you.” 

Maverick felt his heart drop to his stomach. That hanger was his hideaway, the one place he could go and be alone and wallow in the guilt he still felt years later of Goose’s death, of hurting Penny and Ice, hurting his daughter and destroying his relationship with Bradley. No one was ever meant to know about it. 

 “Why start a family Mav, when you really don’t want us? When you really didn’t want me? You were here when Aunt Carole died and stayed until you pulled Bradley’s papers. What did we do to make you hate us so much?” 

“B! Come in here and help with dinner before your uncle burns down the whole house.’ 

“Comin’ Ana.” She called back, “If you stay just don’t hurt dad again. He doesn’t need that. Not with him getting ready for another promotion.”  

“Princess! Let’s go!’ Alex called from the depths of the house. 

 Bianca just glanced at him once  before going into the kitchen, her aunt squeezing her elbow as she passed. “You know Pete, she is right.’ the older Kazansky girl commented as she stepped into the garage, her arms folded under her chest, “Tom doesn’t need  that hurt anymore and neither does that girl. When she found that you weren’t going to come because of that stupid deployment, she waited until my brothers went to bed and she cried herself to sleep. She thinks that you don’t want her, that Bradley is more important to you than her. You have really fucked up Pete.  You are going to have to make this right before you lose both of them for good.  They are your family and just because you are scared of losing them doesn’t make abandoning them okay. Not by a long shot.” 

Maverick felt completely numb as  Ana walked back into the house carrying a bottle of vodka  from the freezer calling into the house for Bianca to gather shot glasses, he knew that he had messed badly and he had for years, but he knew that his daughter would think she meant nothing to him, and that he cared for Bradley more than her.  Too much time had passed and he wondered if it was too late to make it up to not only Bianca but Iceman. 

[kazanskysharris]

Restored Faith

Content warnings:adult themes,cussing,emotional trauma,drunk driving

Summary:When Gabby gets a phone call from her fathers friend she drops everything and runs to help.Not knowing she would run into a old friend who left without saying goodbye.

When you are growing up,you never truly believe when your parents tell you that the friends you have growing up will not always be in your life.Gabby Kazansky was the daughter to Tom and Sarah Kazansky.

Gabby’s father was known as iceman in the line of being a aviator at top gun.Gabby first met Bradley Bradshaw in middle school,when she was introduced to him by her father,Bradley’s dad went by the name of Goose at top gun sense then they had always been attached to each other’s hips.

Bradley had asked Gabby out in high school,but their relationship quickly faded as he wanted to focus more on other things,but that didn’t mean their friendship faded it had actually began stronger.While in high school,Gabby and Bradley met their best friends Lauren and Harris,their group were well known as trouble makers,Gabby though somehow always the one to be adored even when she was apart of it all.

Gabby had been in a toxic relationship her first two years of high school before she met her other two friends,an when she had Gabby slowly fell in love with her best friend Harris.He was the definition of what a man should be,he was kind and honest.Harris and Bradley was the perfect friendship duo,everyone loved.

They would race busses,even to the point they would catch on fire and crash.Saturday was country line dancing at hangout spot they loved,which they all adored.Harris secretly taught Bradley how to dance after he confessed he didn’t know how to but Bradley couldn’t help but start to fall in love all over again with his best friend seeing her dance with Harris,but he couldn’t say anything the way the two looked in each other’s eyes,like the other person was the greatest and the one who hung the moon,even still he protected Gabby because being her best friend would always come first.

Bradley knew Harris’s love for Gabby was real,he defended her no matter what the situation was.While the two talked and he decided to try to bring it up in a teasing way while washing their car,Harris had sprayed Bradley with the hose telling him to never talk about a women like that.Even after Gabby’s ex Adam had came back into the picture for a moment Harris showered her with love and Bradley watched as Harris’s heart broke seeing Gabby’s eye black and swollen,Harris had gently moved hair behind her ear and kissed her for the very first time.

Their senior prom came quicker then ever and that would be the last night they would see Adam,still when he went to start something Harris defended her,but so did Bradley and Lauren.That night would lead to Bradley showing off his moves he took a year to learn,but that would also be the last night everyone would see each other,senior prom was the night after graduation.

Lauren moved to Illinois,Bradley left with no goodbye.Gabby and Harris got in a car accident that would leave Harris dead,Bradley would get the voicemail from his mother but he still couldn’t bring himself to show up to his funeral.Harris was like his brother and he couldn’t bare to see Gabby heartbroken,those two were soul mates.

Years had passed and Gabby had been walking out of a local Casey’s,into the warm humid summer air,as her phone rang reaching for it.The call was coming from Pete Mitchell also known as Maverick,the man she always heard stories from her father who he told could be his wingman anytime.Gabby knew Maverick he had been there while her father trained her how to fly a jet at the age for six,even if she didn’t understand why she the time.

When Maverick asked her for help,she dropped everything she didn’t question him not even for a second,only her fathers voice ringing in her head that if you think,take a second your dead,you leave your friends dead and Gabby couldn’t let more people die as she raced to the deck and getting into a jet.

Gabby took a deep breathe as she felt her hands tremble for a moment as she looked up at the sky,mumbling fly cold,keep your thoughts clear an focus whats ahead.Something her father kept repeating when he taught her at such a young age,she missed him in everything she did but she knew he was still here in a way,watching over her.

Gabby had flew in front of mavericks jet flying off quickly directing the missiles somewhere else as maverick ignored rooster when he asked who that was,until they landed and Gabby got out taking the helmet off her now blonder hair fell and curled around her shoulder just slightly.

“What’s your name?” Jake had asked Gabby as she rolled her eyes.

“That doesn’t really concern you but if you keep that up you will find out but I don’t think you don’t want me as a enemy which you don’t.” She smirked slightly shoving him by his shoulder walking past him over to Maverick hugging him,her blood feeling as it froze as she saw rooster getting out of the jet Maverick had been in.

“Bradshaw?” Gabby questioned if it had really been him,an not just in her head.

“You two know each other?” Hangman aka jake asked rooster.

“Yeah we kinda grew up together” he gave a faint smile as Gabby faintly just nodded.

“Well it’s really great to see you doing well” Gabby confirmed while keeping it short but sweet as her eyes fell down his body seeing how much the Bradshaw had in fact grew up.

“How could you just walk away?” She asked him while everyone stopped to see what was going on as they watched rooster swallow his own spit.

“You may of started to hate me,but Jesus Christ Bradley he was like your own brother.” Gabby yelled at him.”he taught you how to dance,he never judged you no matter what and you couldn’t even show up at his funeral” as tears filled her eyes maverick pulled her away gently to inside as she fell into his arms hugging him.

“Why-why would you have me come here if you knew he was here,you know how much I hate him for what he did-he left without saying goodbye and then he couldn’t even show up to Harris’s funeral” Gabby ranted now realizing she was having a panic attack.

“Hey kid-come on take a deep breathe.it’s all gonna work itself out,I called you because I knew I could count on you like I could always count on your old man” Maverick confessed to her,as it slowly distracted her from the fact she wasn’t able to breathe before hand.

“You really think I’m as great as my dad was?” Gabby asked him,focusing on her breathing as Mavericks had gently rubbed over her back smoothly.

“I really do kiddo” Maverick confessed gently giving her that sort of father figure she secretly was missing after her fathers passing.

“How about you tell me about everything?” He asked her seeing rooster was secretly listening in as he helped her up,making some coffee.

“I’m not sure what’s to tell” Gabby shrugged her shoulders.”we were kids.”

“I’m sure but that doesn’t mean it didn’t leave some scars behind.” Maverick told her as she slowly looked down at the warn olden table.

“I was in this really toxic relationship growing up where all that mattered to him was sex” she hesitated on confessing that part of Maverick but felt relieved seeing more worry then disgust.

Gabby laughed as she thought back on the memory’s.”there was this night I ran into Bradley again after middle school,an I met my best friends Lauren and Harris” she glanced up thanking Maverick as he handed her a steamy cup of coffee.

“It was like this dance in a parking lot,but Adam who was my toxic ex hated that I loved dancing with Harris.We had these races with busses,oh you would of laughed seeing rooster in his overalls” she smiled taking a sip of the coffee watching as Maverick sitting down interested in the story.

“We were as close as it could ever get,our own little family,Harris taught Bradley how to dance and when we went to his barn..” she trailed off smiling as tears filled her eyes feeling childish for still being emotional.

“It’s where I fell in love I think for the first time and knew it was true love,it was the relationship that restored my faith in what a guy should be” she confessed.

“Harris was-“ she smiled looking up.

“The worlds best dancer,an big brother and son”swallowing her own spit feeling like she couldn’t swallow not knowing she was making Bradley cry behind the corner hearing the past in her words.

“He never walked away,he took care of me and his sisters-he loved me and I think he was the first person to truly love me.” She coughed when she took a drink.

“Prom night after graduation where was think drunk driver,Harris didn’t drink and there wasn’t alcohol at the dance anyways but it flipped the car and when I woke up my vision was red I had always summed from my forehead that was bleeding..he was dead before anyone else got there..his last words was that he loved me and to watch out for his little sisters” Gabby confessed as she wiped her eyes feeling like her chest had weights on them.

“I’m so sorry Gabby,nobody should ever have to go through that” Maverick told her as he asked her to stay and that he would always be here for her,in fact tomorrow night was the navy gala and if she wanted she could go with him but she had told him she really just wanted to go get some rest.



[sleptwithinthesun]

i don't really have any specific prompts, but i did just watch top gun today for the first time and i want to say that if you wrote anything for ice i'd love to read it 😊 allergies or cold or even just a plain fic--i really like your writing!

DUDE IT'S SO GOOD. t/op g/un is on my mind all the time i cannot let go i'm obsessed. anyway. this is hopefully good? i really have no clue bUT. if you ever want general t/op g/un recs i'd be happy to talk and share stuff!! i'm really into the rarepairs (h/ollywolf my beloved) lol and i've rambled for too long. onto the fic!

(fill for 🍁 on the fall snz prompts list... written for i/ceman & s/lider. s/lice, babey!! ~1.1K words.)

Slider wakes up, and the other side of the bed is cold.

He rolls over sleepily to remain in his own body heat, staunchly avoiding the area of the bed that once contained his boyfriend, then fights against the comforter as it tangles around his legs. Propping himself up on his elbow, Slider uses his free hand to rub absently at his eyes as he calls, "Ice?"

"hkt'SHHu!"

Slider sighs to himself as he finally opens his eyes, groaning a bit as he's met with the light that streams in from the windows. Ice sneezing in the autumn is never a good sign; the only thing that really gets to him around this time of year is the leftover ragweed pollen from the summer and dust. "Bless you."

"Thangks," Ice breathes, sniffling. His voice is already laden with congestion, Slider notes, and he forces himself to sit up against the headboard, finally getting a good look at his boyfriend as he walks into the room, eyes red and puffy, even from a distance.

"Shit, honey," he blurts, surging forward to the foot of their bed. "What happened?"

Ice's breath hitches for a second before settling back to normal, and he rubs at his nose aggressively. "Ragked the leaves," he explains, and then every piece of the puzzle falls neatly into place.

"I could've done that," Slider protests, brow furrowing. Before he can even finish the sentence, though, Ice is shaking his head.

"You were stdill asleep," he argues, then gasps. "ukT'SHH!"

"Bless you. I still could've raked them, Ice, if you'd just woken me up. You're going to be all sneezy and miserable for the rest of the day." He slides out of the bed, moving to stand next to Ice in his T-shirt and boxers and thumbs at Ice's eyelashes to wipe away an allergic tear. "Your eyes are swelling."

Ice just sniffles, rubbing harshly at his nose again as he presses his lips together. "I kdnow. I jusdt wandted to help."

"Aw, honey," he murmurs sympathetically, rerouting his finger across Ice's cheekbone and towards his sinuses. His boyfriend learns into the contact, posture relaxing slightly when his thumb presses into the side of his nose. "Does that feel good?"

"Yeah," Ice sighs, and Slider starts rubbing in circles, massaging his sinuses gently. "Oh... hold on."

He draws back, twisting away from Slider and pressing his face deep into his shoulder. "kt'SCH! TSHH! h'kSHuu!"

"Bless you, Ice." He kisses him lightly, then goes back to rubbing at his sinuses. "I'm serious, let me do it next time."

"You were sleeping," he tries to argue, but the point is moot.

Slider sighs, then moves to pull Ice's shirt off. He's already covered in whatever shit the leaves have kicked up; there's really no harm in dismantling him so he can take a shower. All the same, it sends Ice's breaths into wild hitches once more, and Slider pauses with the shirt in his hands. "Going to sneeze again?"

"Noht yet..." Ice breathes, shaking his head as if it'll dislodge the tickle in his nose. "Keep goigg. I'll be fide."

"Alright," Slider murmurs, getting it over Ice's head and doing his best to avoid letting it touch more of his body then necessary. His chest is already starting to break out in a rash, just a bit, but it's enough that he's concerned. "Almost there," he soothes.

Ice nods, but ends up brushing his nose against the shirt fabric. Normally, he's not sensitive at all, but when he's already itchy and losing control and the shirt is covered in leaf bits?

It's more than enough to set him off again.

"h'uHD'TSH!" Slider can hear the attempt to stifle in that one, and the way Ice gives up midway through, clearly seeing that there's no point. "ut'SHHH! KSHH! KSHH! huh'SHH-TSHH!" Ice pants for a second, catching his breath, and yanks the shirt the rest of the way off, revealing just how irritated he is. God, his entire expression is still twisted with the need to sneeze, and Slider feels himself melt in sympathy as his breath hitches yet again.

"You're not done, are you," he murmurs, standing and taking the shirt away from Ice before forcing his boyfriend to lean into him, pressing his face gently into his shoulder. "It's alright, honey, I've got you. Just clear all that shit out from your system, okay?"

Ice only gasps and sneezes again, this time, directly into Slider's collarbone. The first one is muffled, but harsh enough that his entire body shakes with the force of it against Slider's. "hmp'TSH! ut'SCH! h'USHH'uh!"

"Bless you, honey," Slider says, pulling away and ignoring the damp spot on the shoulder of his sleep shirt. "Come on, let's start that shower for you." He tugs Ice toward the bathroom.

"I'mb sorry," Ice murmurs, a pink flush beginning to creep up his neck towards his cheeks. Slider only kisses him below his ear, right at the sharp hinge of his jaw, even as he says, "Thatd was gross."

Slider kisses him again, moving a little closer to his mouth. "Don't apologize," he says, "it's normal. And further proof that you should let me rake the yard next time, instead of trying to do it yourself."

Ice laughs a little at that, sniffling while Slider starts the shower. While it looks like he might be done, Slider knows it's only a temporary state; with the way his sneezes have progressed from singles to entire fits, Ice definitely has some left in him.

"Fide," he concedes, although begrudgingly. "You cand ragke the yard fromb now ond."

"Ice, I hate to say this, but I can hardly understand you. Get in the shower once it's ready," Slider says, grinning when his boyfriend only flips him the bird then strips out of his pants and boxers. "I want to take a look at those hives, too, once you're done."

"You're so demandigg," Ice teases, but obliges. Slider leaves to change into day clothes, grateful that they still have shore leave for another week before they head back out.

He can hear as Ice dissolves into another rapid fit while in the shower, this one far less merciful than the last as the steam wreaks relieving havoc on Ice's sinuses. He sighs to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. Leave it to his boyfriend to do something he knows will set off his allergies just to make Slider's day a tad easier.

God, what did he do to deserve him?