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sailor-aviator · 10 months

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Two Worlds

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: From a young age, the animal kingdom had fascinated you, and maybe that's why you chose to pursue that passion. You quickly became a force within the field, becoming the leading expert on ape social structures, which is how you found yourself on an expedition into the African jungles searching for a troop of gorillas. What you weren't expecting, however, was to run into the local wild man on one of your excursions... (Tarzan!AU)

Trigger Warnings: Talk of murder, Talk of infant abandonment, Jake and Javy being idiots. Think that covers it.

Word Count: 3k

Series Masterlist || Moodboard 1 || Moodboard 2 || Moodboard 3 || Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw Tag List

The camp was situated in the middle of the dense jungle, various large tents surrounding the edges of the clearing with a couple of makeshift huts standing on the far side. It wasn’t a grand research facility by any means, but you still found yourself excited as you climbed out of the jeep, Jake and Bob not far behind you.

“Ice and Mav are somewhere around here,” Bob muttered, rounding the back of the jeep to grab your luggage.

“Ice and Mav?” You asked him, taking one of your suitcases from him and setting it on the ground.

“Oh, yeah,” he smiled bashfully. “That’s what they go by. Some old college names, I guess. Dr. Kazansky goes by ‘Ice,’ and Dr. Mitchell prefers it if people call him ‘Mav’ or ‘Maverick.’”

“Noted,” you grinned. Bob handed off the last of the luggage to Jake, leading the two of you towards the camp. Each tent seemed to house different equipment, and you could see the various scientific instruments as you passed by.

“We like to keep the work separate from the play,” Bob explained as the equipment tents gave way to what looked like living quarters. One of the tent flaps pulled back, revealing a handsome man with dark skin and hair cropped short. His eyes lit up at the sight of your little group, and a smile tugged on his lips.

“Oh, I guess they just invited anybody to come and work here, huh?” He joked, stepping out and walking up to you. You let out a laugh as you rolled your eyes playfully, quickly wrapping the man up in your arms.

“It’s good to see you too, Javy,” you laughed, pulling away so that he could wrap Jake in a matching hug.

“It’s good to see you, man. How long’s it been?” Jake asked, clasping him on the shoulder as the two broke apart.

“Been at least a year this August. Mike’s wedding, remember?”

“That’s right! Man, that bachelor party was-”

“If you two are finished,” you drawled, crossing your arms and giving them a pointed look. “I’d like to continue with the tour and find out which tent is mine.”

They both gave you sheepish looks before Bob gestured for you to follow. He led you to a smaller grouping of tents that surrounded a fire pit, various pots with pleasant aromas sitting atop the grill as they steamed and bubbled. You spotted two men sitting at one of the tables, and their heads perked up when they noticed you. One was all warmth, his dark hair cut short and blue eyes sparkling as he rose to greet you. The other was more stoic, his own eyes holding a sense of curiosity as they took your group in.

“We weren’t expecting you so soon,” the dark-haired man greeted, shaking your hand before moving to Jake. “Dinner isn’t quite ready.”

“No worries,” Jake shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Boots and I had a late lunch.”

“Boots?” The man questioned, turning a bemused smile towards you. You rolled your eyes and shot Jake a glare before giving him your name.

“I’m the primatologist,” you explained, earning a knowing nod from the man. “And are you Dr. Mitchell or Dr. Kazansky?”

“Well, I’m not technically a doctor,” the man laughed. “But I’m Pete Mitchell. You can just call me Mav or Maverick.”

“Not technically a doctor?” Jake asked, an eyebrow raised as he regarded Maverick.

“I think a lot of people just assume I’ve earned one since I follow Ice over here around everywhere,” Maverick smiled, nodding his head over at Dr. Kazansky. “But I never completed a doctorate or anything. That’s all him.”

“We keep him around to fix the generators and various other gadgets,” Dr. Kazansky chuckled, moving to stand. His grip was firm as he shook your hand, and you got the sense that he was the more reasonable and logical of the two. “We won’t keep you though. Bob, why don’t you show Boots here to her tent and Javy can help Jake get situated. You two must be tired after all that traveling.”

“That would be great, actually,” you smiled, already following after Bob towards the opposite side of the clearing. Another large tent stood a little ways away from everything, but not too far to where it would be a problem if anything were to happen, which you certainly hoped it wouldn’t.

“We figured you’d want some privacy,” Bob explained when you gave him a questioning look, drawing back one of the tent flaps to step inside. You followed suit, gazing around at the open space. A simple twin bed was pushed against the far wall, just sturdy enough to be considered permanent, or at least serve as a long-term accommodation. A desk was pushed on the opposite side of the tent, a simple shelf standing next to it, and you could see the wires running out of the tent to connect with the generator that sat closer towards the rest of the camp.

“I know it’s not much,” Bob said, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked over at you, “but we tried to make it a little nicer for you.”

“It’s wonderful, Bob, really,” you smiled, moving further into the tent to put your luggage down. “It’s more than enough for me. I’m touched you all thought to go this far.”

“It was Ice’s idea, actually,” he admitted. You nodded, making a mental note to thank the older researcher.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Bob hummed, giving you a small wave as he exited the tent, securing the flap open behind him. You made quick work of rolling up the blinds to the makeshift windows of your tent, allowing for the natural lighting to filter in through the mesh screens. You found several tubs for you to place your things in, quickly unpacking and placing them under your bed.

A strange feeling overcame you, like eyes on the back of your neck, and you looked around to see if one of the others had crept up behind you while you weren’t paying attention. You frowned when you saw no one, stepping closer towards the exit as you peered into the jungle. You didn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything there. You quickly pulled the flap shut. Whatever was out there would at least have to try and get at you now.

The sun had set, the fire casting a warm glow of orange around the camp as the generators powered the various lamps surrounding the outskirts of the camp. Maverick was dishing out what looked to be some kind of curry mixture onto different plates, handing you one as you joined everyone near the fire pit.

“It’s not much,” he started, “but I wouldn’t say I’m the worst cook.”

You took a tentative bite, an explosion of flavor bursting on your tongue as you chewed.

“This is really good, Mav!” You exclaimed, shoveling another spoonful into your mouth.

“And that’s the other reason we keep him around,” Ice joked from his spot at the table. You chuckled as Jake plopped down next to you, bumping your shoulder with his.

“How’s your tent?” He asked, a smirk on his face as he took a bite of his food, humming pleasantly at the taste.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged, taking a sip of the water Bob handed you before taking his own seat across the fire. “It’s cozy. What about yours?”

“I’m bunking with Javy and Bob,” he replied, casting you a sly grin. “But if you’re lookin’ for a roommate-”

“Absolutely not,” you snorted. Jake sighed, a look of fake hurt on his face as you rolled your eyes.

“You would really make all three of us sleep in the same tent while you get one all to yourself?” He asked you, mirth shining in his green eyes.

You tapped your chin, pretending to think about your answer.

“Yes,” you nodded. “Yes, I would. Besides, you’d probably just stink up the place.”

Jake let out an indignant squawk as Bob and Javy laughed at him. Bob cast a look over at Mav who was placing the lid back on the pot.

“Are you going to leave any out for Bradley?”

“Who’s Bradley?” You asked, looking between the two men. Mav sat down across from Ice, letting out a sigh as he relaxed into the chair.

“Bradley,” Javy grinned, waggling his eyebrows at you, “is the wild man who lives in the jungle.”

“Be serious,” you scoffed, scowling at him.

“It’s true!” He exclaimed, looking at Bob for assistance. “He comes by the camp sometimes! Think I’ve seen him maybe five times since being here?”

“He’s around a lot more than you think,” Mav smirked, eyes cast towards the foliage of the jungle. “Those are just the times he’s let you see him.”

“Is he dangerous?” You asked, shifting a little closer towards Jake, but all the men shook their heads.

“Nah,” Javy sniffed. “He’s just a loner. Comes by when he wants food or needs stitched up.”

“Why doesn’t he just stay here?” Jake asked. Mav and Ice shared an uneasy look as a moment of silence passed over the camp.

“Because he doesn’t exactly feel comfortable around humans,” Ice offered, and you frowned.

“I don’t understand,” you said. “I thought he was a man?”

“He is,” Bob answered. “He just didn’t grow up around people.”

Maverick sighed, running a hand through his hair. “About twenty-seven years ago, our friends Carole and Nick Bradshaw-”

“The famous primatologists?” You asked, your eyes lighting up in recognition at the names. The two had been trailblazers in the field, their focus being on gorilla social structures. Their deaths had hit the community hard, and their work had been largely abandoned until you picked up where they left off a couple of years ago. It was one of the reasons you had been invited to the camp.

“Yes,” Maverick nodded, giving you a sad smile. “This was their camp originally. They lived and worked here for years, studying the local troops of gorillas. But, as I’m sure you know, poachers came after one of the troops, and the two died in the struggle.”

You had heard about the tragic story of their passing, but the looks on Tom and Mav’s faces sent a pang of sympathy through you.

“What very few people knew, though,” Ice frowned, “was that they had a son. He was only a few months old when they died, and everyone thought that he had died with them.”

“That’s terrible,” you gasped, your hands covering your mouth in shock.

“It was,” Maverick nodded. “But, he didn’t die with his parents like everyone thought.”

“What do you mean?” Jake questioned. “How does a baby survive out here on its own?”

“It doesn’t without help,” Ice stated, waiting for the two of you to catch on.

“Bradley was taken in by the troop of gorillas,” Mav provided when the two of you cast confused looks at them. “They raised him as one of their own. We had no idea he was out here until we reopened the camp ten years ago. We caught him going through one of the tents one day.”

“How do you know that it’s him?” Jake asked. “How do you know it’s Bradley?”

“Because he’s the spitting image of his father,” Maverick answered, earning a hum from Ice.

“I don’t know,” he drawled, scratching his chin. “Carole’s in there too somewhere.”

“So why didn’t he stay?” You questioned. “Why doesn’t he stay with you?”

“He never seemed all that interested,” Mav shrugged. “He’s curious about us, yes, but he doesn’t seem to want to leave the troop behind. He comes and goes as he pleases, and we let him.”

“We teach him what we can, of course,” Ice offered. “He’s a fairly quick learner, and he seems eager to learn when he is here. He shouldn’t give you any problems if he shows up.”

You turned to Maverick. “You said that he’s around more often than we think?”

“I did,” he nodded. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, because,” you hesitated, “I thought I felt someone or something watching me earlier. I didn’t see anything, but the feeling was still there.”

“It was probably him,” Mav nodded, giving you a gentle smile. “The two of you are new, and he’s just gotten used to Javy being around. It’s no wonder he might have been watching.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” you smiled.

“I’m sure he won’t take too long to make an appearance,” Mav continued. “I give it a week before he comes slinking out from behind one of those trees.”

A week had passed and still no sign of the wild man. All of you had developed a comfortable rhythm in the camp. Ice would disappear into one of the tents, Bob trailing after him as they started pouring over the notes on the group of baboons that took up residence nearby. Maverick would go around camp fiddling with the different gadgets sitting around camp. Javy would set off first thing in the morning towards the colony of termites deep within the jungle, and Jake would hike out with him, bringing back plant samples by around midday. You, on the other hand, were stuck at the camp.

“It’s probably best you don’t go out searching for the gorillas by yourself,” Maverick had said. “They’re a hard group to find, and Bradley is very protective of them. He probably wouldn’t let you anywhere near them right now.”

So you were stuck at the camp, trying to find odd chores and jobs to keep you occupied so you felt at least somewhat useful. You had started with trying to help Maverick with his tinkering, but that had quickly become a no as you had little to no understanding of mechanics. You weren’t much help to Ice and Bob, barely able to keep up with their conversations despite your extensive knowledge of primates. You despised the way the termites crawled all over you when Javy went out to observe them, and Jake…well, Jake was Jake.

So you busied yourself with cooking meals and doing laundry, slowly acclimating to the heat and humidity of the jungle. You quickly exchanged your pants and shirts for shorts and tank tops, the combination giving you a slight reprieve from the oppressive combination that kept you constantly covered in a layer of sweat.

The feeling of being watched came and went, slowly becoming a near constant as the days went on.

It was the second day that you realized some of your belongings had been moved. You had set your laundry on your bed, folded into neat piles as you stepped out to go and check on the food for dinner. When you came back, the clothes were scattered on your bed, thrown haphazardly across the sheets.

The seventh day, you walked in to find your shampoo opened, a small puddle of the floral smelling liquid on your desk. You had pursed your lips, but cleaned it up wordlessly, making sure to tuck it securely back under your bed. Your cheeks had warmed the next morning, despite the heat, when you found a bundle of flowers placed neatly outside your tent. You had smiled, gingerly picking up the flowers and carrying them towards the camp where the others were already gathered.

“What are these?” Jake asked, coming up to inspect the flowers. You tugged them back when he reached out to grab one, a scowl on your face as you swatted at him.

“Hands off,” you snapped, skirting around him and towards the table.

“Where’d you get them?” He asked unperturbed, plopping down next to you on the bench.

“They were outside my tent this morning,” you replied, barely catching the look Ice and Mav gave one another. “Aren’t they pretty?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “They’re fire lilies.”

“You just found them outside your tent?” Maverick asked, eyeing the flowers in your hand.

“Uh huh,” you chirped. “I think I’m going to keep them on my desk.”

“Bradley seems to have taken a liking to you,” Ice said carefully. “He brought Javy a rhinoceros beetle when he first got here.”

“I didn’t know it was there until I crawled into bed and it bit me,�� Javy frowned, shaking his head at the memory. You bit back a laugh, hiding your face in the palm of your hand.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to get the flowers?” Jake asked with a frown. “I mean, I’m the one here who’s studying plants.”

“Are you jealous?” You teased, earning a scowl from the blond. “He probably brought them for me because of my shampoo.”

“What do you mean?” Bob asked.

“I came back to my tent yesterday to find my shampoo sitting on my desk. It looked like someone had squeezed some of it out,” you explained with a shrug. “It smells like flowers, so maybe he thought I would like the flowers.”

“Interesting,” Maverick hummed, studying you. You shifted under his gaze, deciding to busy yourself with fixing a plate of food. Once you had settled back onto the bench, Jake turned to you.

“Do you wanna come with me to the waterfall tomorrow? I was going to go collect some samples of the algae growing there.”

You thought over his proposal. On one hand, you were bored to tears just sitting around the camp, waiting for any chance you could get to go try and catch a glimpse of the gorilla troop. On the other hand, you’d be stuck with Jake, and the man could be a tad controlling when in his element.

“Yeah, okay,” you nodded, deciding that dealing with a hyper-focused Jake was better than nothing. He grinned, tossing a piece of banana into his mouth.

“Great! We’ll leave bright and early!”

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lottesreads · 3 months

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Why Me? - Part 11

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Forbidden relationship, ANGST, violence, nightmares, mentions of PTSD, mentions of child abuse, swearing, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, therapy (we love), mentions of death/being sick

Word Count: 12k

Summary: You're still reeling after what happened with Bob, but it all comes crashing down to reality when you go to work the next day. As you reminisce on memories you thought were lost, you make a move you know you should have made a long time ago. Things come to a head with Rooster once more, and you find yourself grieving for something you never had.

A/N: Well hellooo beautiful people!! I apologize for being gone so long, writers block had me in a chokehold and... yeah. But I'm back and I hope you enjoy! I'm not making any promises, but hopefully the next part will be out MUCH sooner than this one was.

p.s. I love every single one of you and comments and reblogs keep me going. That is all.

Masterlist

21 years ago

“Bug!”, Carole yells up the stairs, “We gotta meet your dad and Bradley at the school, we’re gonna be late!” It was only your first week of being back with your dad and the Bradshaw’s for the summer, but it was a busy one at that. Bradley was still finishing up his last week of school while yours got out two weeks ago. And while your dad just got home from a 6-month deployment three days ago, Carole and Bradley were more than happy to make the weekend trip up to Ohio to come get you before he came back.

“Bug!”, she yells one more time with no response. Breathing out a sigh, she ascends the stairs and knocks on your door. “Are you almost ready sweetheart? We’re gonna be late for Bradley’s piano recital” Using two hands to open the door, you stand before her in the frilly yellow sundress the two of you bought while shopping the previous day. “Well don’t you look pretty! Are you all ready to go?” She watches as you shift your mouth to the side of your face. Bending to your level, she moves to push some of your hair behind your ear.

“What’s a matter?” You shrug and look into her big blue eyes. She hums in question as she looks you over. Your lip wobbles as you reach to touch the necklace around her neck, admiring it with gentle fingers. They trace over the silver butterfly pendant hanging just below her collar bone. Something was wrong this time around. You were… different from the little girl she said goodbye to last August. More timid, almost frightened to do anything you would deem as wrong. You weren’t even like this when you spent your winter break with them. It might have been the excitement of the impending holiday that kept her from noticing, but something changed since then.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to run into her arms when you first saw her for the summer, but the way you clutched onto her shirt and wouldn’t let go, so hard to the point that she had to carry you to the car, she knew something was wrong. And now, you’ve been so quiet. So unlike what she’s used to when you’re with Bradley, or just in her presence for that matter. When she got you all buckled in and on the road, it took less than 20 minutes for you to be knocked out completely, like you were finally able to let your guard down and sleep.

“I missed you and daddy. And Bradley.” Her heart breaks as she watches you sniffle. As you let go of the necklace, she reaches forward and effortlessly wraps you in a hug.

“Oh bug, we missed you, too. So much.” Her hand rubs circles up and down your back as she comforts you. “But we’ll get this whole summer together, and we’re gonna have so much fun. Right?” She moves back to watch you nod your head and rub a small fist over your cheek. Instinctively her hands move to replace your own, swiping your tears away with her thumbs.

Your eyes move back to the necklace and she follows your gaze. Without a second thought, her hands move behind her neck, unclasping it as she holds it in her fingers for you to look at.

“Did I ever tell you where I got this necklace from?” Shaking your head, you sniffle once more. “You know how I told you about your uncle Goose? Bradley’s daddy?” You nod as you trace your fingers along the chain. “Well, on our first date we went to a movie, then walked around in this big mall, kinda like the one we went to. We passed a jewelry store, and this necklace was in the window. I stopped to look at it and I told him how pretty I thought it was.” She pauses for one second before lightly pushing on your shoulders to turn you around.

“We went on a few more dates after that. And then-”, the necklace falls into your view as her hands come up to clasp it around your neck, “He finally asked me to be his girlfriend. I asked what took him so long, and he told me he was so nervous I would say no. Isn’t that so silly?” You giggle as she turns to have you look at her once more. “I of course said yes, and then that goof, he reached into his back pocket and gave me a little bag. And inside of it was this necklace.” She pokes the spot where the butterfly sits on your chest, hanging a little longer on your small body than on hers. “In that moment I realized two things. First, was that he bought the necklace still thinking I would say no. And knowing him he would have given it to me either way. And second, was that I was pretty darn sure I was gonna marry him.”

“Do you miss him?” your tiny voice asks as she looks up from the necklace back to your innocent eyes.

“Everyday. I used to wear this necklace to remind me of him, or look at my wedding ring that he picked out all by himself. But I realized I can just look over to Bradley and know there’s still a little piece of him with me everywhere I go.” Her eyes fill with unshed tears, not unlike most times when she thinks about her husband, but she smiles through it like she always does. Her hand smooths over your head as she looks at you wearing her necklace.

“Oh he would have absolutely adored you.” She clears her throat once before changing subjects, “Now whenever you look at this necklace I want you to remember that me, Bradley, and your Daddy are always with you, ok? No matter what.”

“I can keep it?”

“Of course!”, she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world she’s gifting you something that means so much to her. “But you have to promise me one other thing, ok?”

“What?”, you whisper.

“I want you to be brave like your uncle Goose. Because even though he was scared, he asked me anyway. And if he were here, he would tell you it was so worth it. So bug, do you think you can be brave for me?” You silently nod your head at her words, hair falling in your face as you do so. She doesn’t need to push it back for you as you do it yourself this time in order to look at her with your head held high.

“Good”, she whispers with a smile. It falls slightly as she asks you, “Is there anything you wanna tell me?” She holds her breath as you nod.

“Does Bradley practice piano a lot?” She stifles a laugh as her brows furrow.

“All the time, why do you ask?”

“Last time he was playing he wasn’t very good.” Hiding her face, she takes both of your hands in hers, rubbing your fingers.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, he’s gotten a lot better since then. And even if he didn’t, we’d still be front row cheering him on, right?”

“Right”, you say with a big nod.

“Speaking of, we’re gonna be late!” She squeezes your hand as the two of you bound down the stairs and into her car.

“Was uncle Goose good at piano?”

“Oh he was so good at piano.”

“I hope Bradley is, too.” She laughs as she buckles you in the back seat.

“If he’s anything like his daddy he’ll be great. He’ll look like a wild bird doing it, but he’ll be just fine.”

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Present Day

Your dad wasn’t lying when he told you he’d be waiting until you got home. Opening the door, you’re presented with the back of his head as he watches an old rerun of M.A.S.H. The door clicks as you lock it, and he turns off the t.v. at the sound. You give him a slight smile as he rounds the couch. Even though you drove the entire ten minutes back to your house with all the windows down and the AC on full blast, you can still feel a flush taking hold of your cheeks.

“How was dinner at Marcello’s?”, he asks as he folds his arms across his chest, yawning. You search your brain for what the hell he’s talking about until you remember what you told him you were doing.

“Oh yeah, it was good. Sorry it took so long, we started catching up and I didn’t realize what time it was”, you attempt to step past him.

“Who were you seeing again?”

“Just a friend from high school, she was in the area on a work trip”, you lie. It was easier this way. If you told him you were going to Bob’s he might ask questions about him, and it could lead to more invasive things you didn’t want to answer. Making something up completely different was easier than lying about Bob at all. Your dad hums at your answer, and you think he can almost see through you.

“Rooster was there on a date. I’m surprised you didn’t run into him.”

“It was packed for a Wednesday night. And since when does he tell you about his dating life?”

“Oh I don’t know. He called to let me know he had a box of my old things and we just got to talking. You might actually know her, he said she was a friend of Phoenix’s girl.” You stop at the bottom of the stairs, and you can almost feel your eye start to twitch as you slowly turn around. “For the life of me I can’t remember her name.”

“Does it happen to be Emily?” He snaps his fingers as he starts readjusting the coffee table and turning lights off.

“That’s it. You know her?”

“Oh”, you scoff, “Yeah I know her. Rooster knows her very well, actually.” He stops what he’s doing and turns to you.

“What does that mean- You know what? I don’t wanna know”, he decides as he walks over to you, placing a kiss at the top of your head. “Goodnight kiddo”, he says with a yawn. He walks down the hall to his own room, while you remain at the bottom of the steps.

“What an asshole”, you mutter under your breath. For a moment, you aren’t thinking about what just happened with Bob, you’re thinking about just how rude both Rooster and Emily were to him only a week ago. And after Rooster’s “apology”, he is now going on a date with the woman who had the audacity to laugh in Bob’s face? Typical.

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You hardly sleep at all that night. Worried that you might wake up from another dream. Or not wake up at all and be trapped. These are paranoid thoughts, you know that. But all the same, your body will not allow you to relax for more than an hour. It isn’t until you’re sure you’ve fallen asleep for at least 20 minutes that your alarm startles you awake.

Groaning, you get up and head to your bathroom. You can already hear your dad starting his morning routine from his room below yours, and you focus on the noise to distract yourself from what you have to walk into today. Not only do you try and fail to forget how Bob’s hands felt, or how rushed he was just to kiss you, the worst part is that you don’t want to forget. You don’t want to pretend like nothing happened. You want to walk up to him and give him a kiss, ask him how the rest of his night was, if he wants to go see a movie with you on Saturday. But no. You learned from a very young age that getting what you want wasn’t really written in the stars.

However, pulling your hair back into a tight bun, you remember that you do have something that you want. You had to sacrifice a lot for it, but you got it in the end. The career you’ve always wanted, what you knew you were meant for deep down. Your eyes flicker from your hands as they deftly work to make sure not a hair is out of place, and then back to your face. Your hands stop as you stare at the slope of your nose, the shape and color of your eyes, anything that you think reminds everyone else of her.

You shake your head and get back to the task at hand. Once you’re finished, you eye strictly your hair in the mirror to make sure it’s up to standard, and your eye catches on your phone at the edge of the counter. You begin to chew your lip before unlocking it and searching through your contacts. Under Avila Clinic, your finger hovers.

Contrary to what Penny might have thought, you did have a therapist once upon a time. After your first few nightmares at the Academy, and with the support of Phoenix, you started therapy. Your therapist, Mary, was extremely helpful and understanding. You went to her for years while at school, but then deployments started happening and you got distracted. Life started to finally make sense, and your dreams were few and far between. Eventually they stopped happening altogether, and your naive brain thought that meant they were gone for good. Her practice is on the other coast, but you know it’s going to take a while for a new therapist to get your entire backstory to try and help you. You need someone who already knows, possesses the knowledge on how to help you. Someone you are already comfortable with sharing your feelings with.

A knock comes from your door taking you out of your thoughts.

“You almost ready to go?”, your dad asks from the hall. Your stomach flips at the thought of having to go to work, even if you do love it. Things have been… complicated recently. And even if you did pretend nothing happened already, you have a gut feeling it’s gonna be a lot harder than it was at the beginning of the week.

“Yeah”, you respond, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

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

Your father is none the wiser as you walk onto base. Your heart is beating so fast you’re worried he might be able to hear the echo against your chest. While he heads to his office to gather what he needs for the day, you set your things in the locker room. You know he’s going to be in there when you walk in the room. Like he always is. Because he’s always so prepared. Groaning, you shut the metal door to your locker and rest your forehead on the cool surface.

“Everything ok Mantis?”, Phoenix’s voice sounds from beside you.

“Oh everything is fine and dandy.” Her locker closes as she moves you by your shoulders, leading you out of the room and to your anxiety-induced nightmare.

“Ok weirdo. You gonna tell me what’s really on your mind?” She doesn’t stop as she marches you through the classroom where Bob is patiently waiting in his seat. Your eyes meet for the briefest moment before the influx of the rest of the group forces you to move toward your seat.

“Maybe later”, you whisper to her as she sits. Your gut twists as you try and fail to not stare at the back of Bob’s head. Just last night your fingers were running through that same hair, and now you have to pretend like you don’t know what his body feels like against your own. Those thoughts are extinguished rather quickly as Rooster sits next to you. Your body goes rigid as you remember what else your dad told you last night. How dare he? After everything he’s already put you through, he’s so blatantly blind when it comes to other people’s feelings. He must feel your energy or the fact that you keep glaring at him through the corner of your eye. So when he looks up and gives you a small smile, you reciprocate. You’ve learned your lesson on confronting people at work, and if you want to fly on this next mission, you’re gonna be on your best behavior.

You are nothing if not professional in the air. You’re paired up with Phoenix and Bob on your first hop of the day, and if you were an outsider you wouldn’t even know there was something else going on. The three of you successfully pull off each paired maneuver your dad assigned with perfect communication. The entire time you were focused on flying, but Bob’s deep voice through the comm system didn’t help. It was extremely difficult to focus on what he was saying, not how he was saying it, but you did it anyway.

When lunch comes around you walk into the mess hall and sigh. There are two options you’re weighing as you stand near the doorway, clutching your lunch bag in hand. Your “regular” seat sits empty next to Bob and Rooster is still sitting by himself in the corner. On one hand you could pretend everything was fine and sit next to Bob, or you could pretend you’re not mad at Rooster and sit next to him. Rolling your eyes they land back on Bob’s table where Phoenix is now sat across from him. Your hands sweat as you hold your lunch, eyeing the way Bob’s hands wipe the crumbs of chip dust off onto a napkin. Taking a breath, you allow yourself to be sad for a second.

Bob is quite literally the most perfect man you have ever met. He’s kind, thoughtful, and funny. Not to mention damn handsome and from your experience the best kisser. Your heart aches at the thought that he deserves to hear all this praise. He told you some of the nicest things anyone has ever said to you, and what did you do in return? When given the chance to tell him how you felt you reached for the logical side of your brain and refused to. In another life, you tell yourself. If you weren’t restricted by these stupid rules, if you had the courage to tell him how you felt. But here you still stand in the company of no one but yourself.

His head turns suddenly and you’re met with his eyes as he gives you the slightest smile. An invitation to take a seat at his side. But you swallow and tear your eyes away. They land on Rooster instead who is already looking at you, then at Bob. It’s too much as you breathe and choose the secret third option. Turning on your heel, you head toward your dad’s office.

Knocking on the cracked door before entering, your dad welcomes you with a surprised smile. His brow furrows slightly as you take a seat across from him at his desk, but he doesn’t say anything as you start to eat with him. Even just asking him how his day is going, you catch the smile on his face as he looks across to you, and then back down to his desk. You can’t see what he’s looking at, but whatever it is keeps him content until his phone rings.

He quickly apologizes like you were in the middle of a very important business meeting before answering with a, “Hey honey”. And you know it’s Penny on the other end. Smiling, he holds up a finger, telling you he’ll be back in a minute as you watch him leave his office. You turn back to his desk and only see the backs of what look to be a few picture frames littering the top. Funny. You don’t think you saw these when you helped him move his stuff in here a couple months ago. That being said, you haven’t been in here very often.

Turning back to the door, your dad’s voice faintly echoes down the hall with a laugh, and knowing you have a few minutes, you take a seat in his chair. Your eyes roam over his desk, his aviators sit in front of a Navy mug.There’s a few small models of previous jets he’s flown, you take note of the F-14 Tomcat, sitting right in front of a picture of him and Goose. Smiling at the frame of your and Bradley’s dads, your eyes trace to the others. A more recent picture of you at your Top Gun graduation, Iceman and your father flanking your sides as you triumphantly hold the trophy sits next to one of 7-year old you with Bradley at his piano recital. He was a lot better than you gave him credit for that day, and now you know all that hard work paid off. He can practically play any song you ask him to, and he makes use of that talent whenever he can at the Hard Deck. Penny even joked she should put a tip jar out for him.

There’s another picture of the two of them someone must have taken on the carrier right after their triumphant return during the Uranium Mission. Everyone is cheering in the background, and you even have a smile on your face. But you don’t remember feeling happy. You were relieved, of course. But it still doesn’t erase the hour of agony thinking they were dead. You move on to the next picture of yourself in a dirtied softball uniform, clinging on to Bradley’s back like a monkey as he walks you to the car after a long summer tournament. Your feet hurt so bad Bradley had offered to give you a piggy-back ride if you shared your popsicle with him. The red juices melted down your arm and onto his shirt, but he didn’t complain once.

The last picture is of Goose, Carole, and a tiny Bradley. You smile fondly as you pick up the frame and watch their smiling faces. Your dad told you once that it was one of the last pictures of them all together. God, Bradley looks so much like his dad. Your finger absentmindedly traces where Carole stands, and stops at the silver chain around her neck. A small butterfly pendant sits between her collarbones and a wave of guilt washes over you.

You weren’t brave like you promised her. At least you thought you weren’t. You held on to that necklace for the few years that you had it, but ultimately when Carole got sick, you couldn’t bear it anymore. She slept a lot toward the end, the medication making her tired. One night, you crept into her bathroom and put the necklace back in her jewelry box hoping she wouldn’t notice, or wouldn’t say anything to you. She never brought it up, so you assumed it was one of the two. But looking at it now you wish you would have kept it. Kept that little piece of her she so generously gave to you. Maybe that little reminder would have made it easier to keep going after her and Bradley left.

Placing the frame back in its place, you chew your lip. You grab your phone and before you can decide not to, you press the call button. It rings a couple times before someone answers in a cheery voice.

“Avila Clinic, how can I help you?”

“Hi, I’d like to make an appointment.”

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

Bob sits in silence the entire rest of lunch. He thought maybe you two would be civil toward each other. He also thought that last night meant you cared about him, but right now it doesn’t feel that way. The initial sting of you not sitting next to him today is gone. He gets it. But the fact that you didn’t even acknowledge him when he smiled at you? That hurt.

He’s so conflicted as he walks back to the classroom. Maybe you have your own things going on and this isn’t about him. But how could it not be? You two talked last night. You kissed for crying out loud. You asked him to and pulled him against you. God, he literally begged you to kiss him again and now he’s feeling embarrassed. Something he thought you would never make him feel. What hurts most of all is how he misses just being around you. As much as he loved kissing you, he loved being your friend. Listening to you talk, learning about your life. Everything was so easy. You never even had to try to make him like you, it was as simple as breathing.

He decides he can’t take any of this personally. Easier said than done, though.

You don’t look in his direction the rest of the day. He doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head, but if you were looking at him he’s pretty positive he would have felt it. In fact, you’re pretty quiet, too. He’s hardly paying attention as Mav goes over everyone’s flights, but perks up when he mentions your name.

“Alright, Phoenix, Bob, and Mantis.” Your flights are brought up on the screen as well as what maneuvers you were practicing together. “Or as I like to call you guys; The Dream Team.” Phoenix breathes out a laugh to his left as Mav continues to praise you for your team work. Kind of ironic that you work so well as a team together even though he feels like he’s had not only his body, but his head in the clouds all day.

“So you three, give yourselves a pat on the back. Great job.” Phoenix turns to him first to give him a fist bump, then turns over to you. He turns with her and finally catches your eye as your smirk falters. He watches you clench your fist before offering it toward him, and with a forced smile his knuckles tap your own. There was no celebration to be had when all it does is create more awkward tension between the two of you. He used to relish in these little moments the two of you shared, but now knowing that you want absolutely nothing to do with him it only serves as a reminder for what he lost.

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

You’re quiet again as you head home with your dad. Guilt is eating you alive at the way Bob smiled at you today. It’s not real anymore. Nothing about it is genuine, and why would it be? You continue to create situations in which someone’s heart is going to get broken, and it always ends up being your own. This time there’s another casualty and you can’t stand it being Bob. He deserves so much more than that.

Your father is humming along to the radio while you stare out the window when your phone buzzes. AVILA CLINIC flashes on your screen and you’re quick to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Tiffany from the Avila Clinic, am I speaking to Miss Mitchell?” The same cheery woman from earlier asks.

“Yes, this is she.”

“Hi Miss Mitchell. We spoke earlier about setting up an appointment a couple weeks from now on the fourth of October, but your therapist Mary had a sudden cancellation for tomorrow. I know you said you wanted to get in as soon as possible, does tomorrow at 4:00 pm Pacific Time work for you?”

“Yes”, you’re quick to agree, “Yes, that absolutely works for me.”

“Perfect. We’ll email you a Zoom link thirty minutes before your appointment.”

“Sounds great, thank you so much.” Hanging up the phone, your dad clears his throat, expectantly waiting for an explanation as to who that was.

“I have a zoom meeting at 4:00 tomorrow.” His brow raises as he urges you to continue. “It’s a therapy appointment-”, you try to ignore the way both his brows raise at the admission, “And it’s at the house, so I would really appreciate it if, ya know….”

“I get it, I get it”, he waves you off, “I’ll make myself scarce.” A weight is lifted from your chest as he continues driving. You know how men of his generation view therapy, but he himself has benefited from those services over the course of his life. In your own opinion you think he could benefit from some more, but, you really don’t think he’ll go for it unless he’s doing it for someone else.

“Thanks, dad.”

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

You didn’t expect it. You thought you were safe. Especially after last night of nothing, you went to bed naively thinking you could have a peaceful night’s sleep. Awaking with a choked gasp, you reach for your throat begging it to open up. Breath after breath gets a little easier, until the tears start and you just can’t stop. The dark does little to ease your racing mind.

It started normally, just a hazy dream of you walking down the street back in Ohio, stopping at a storefront and staring in the window. Your reflection is what set you off. It was you at first, you were able to identify little features that were your own, but then- It turned into her completely. You ran as fast as your feet would let you, but the only destination was your old house. Still, you tried to get as far away from her as possible, you couldn’t see her, but you could feel her not far behind you. Running up the stairs, you booked it to your room and slammed the door shut, holding your body against it so she couldn’t get in. She banged and screamed as hard and as loud as she could until it finally… stopped. It was silent as tears streamed down your face. Giving you a false sense of security, you stepped away from the door.

Holding your breath, you made it three steps away before the door flung itself open. You were already walking backwards when she pushed you into the wall, and head first you hit it. You must have started choking on your own tears in real time, and you imagine the lack of air is what caused you to wake up.

Even as you sit up in bed now, the thought that it was only a dream does nothing to reassure you. The room is too hot, and instead of making the same mistake of running to your bathroom, you tiptoe down the hall so as to not alert your father, and sit on the back porch. The cool September breeze blows over your sweat slicken skin as you breathe in… and out. In… and out. You’re still sobbing as quietly as you can, and you know it was a dream. Just a dream- this time.

You don’t tell your dad exactly what happened, but he knows. He was surprised to see you outside when he got up this morning, but you just told him you couldn’t get back to sleep so you sat out to see the sunrise. It was when he tried resting his hand on your shoulder and you flinched away that he knew you left some details out. Without him having to say a word, he gave you a look and you reassured him you were fine. You knew you weren’t, really. But the only thing keeping you going was the idea of getting up in the air, and the fact that you had therapy later today.

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

For the first time in a very long time, Bob wasn’t looking forward to going to work this morning. He felt like a kid dreading going to school again. But, he forced himself anyway, and now as he walks the halls, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to face another day where you completely ignore him. This isn’t the best way to deal with… whatever happened between you two, you must know that. Right? In the end no matter what you told him he was still going to be your friend, but you’re giving him the idea that you don’t want that.

He’s surprised to find you already in the classroom, your pen tapping at the sheet of maneuvers in front of you. No one else is there but the two of you, and he takes a minute to breathe in the silence that settles. Your mouth is twisted, you keep switching from chewing one side of your lip to the other. Your brow is furrowed to the point that there’s a sharp knot in your forehead. Whatever you’re looking at can’t possibly be that perplexing. You could fly each of these tasks with your eyes closed, and yet you look deep in thought. He opens his mouth to say something, taking a step forward at the same time, but a hand claps down on his shoulder as he does.

“Morning, Bob, Mantis”, Phoenix greets the two of you. You hum in acknowledgement but your eyes never leave your paper. Bob watches as she taps your knee with her hand. You quite literally jump at the movement, dropping your pen in the process as it rolls under his seat. “Hey, you ok there?”

“Yeah, sorry”, you rush out as your hand trembles. Bob can hear Phoenix ask if you’re sure, while he kneels on the floor to retrieve your pen. When he gets up, he’s still on his knees holding your pen out to you. Your hollow eyes look back at him as the two of you freeze, sharing a moment that feels stuck in time. A shaky hand extends to grab your pen from him, and it takes everything in him not to reach further and squeeze your hand. Letting you know he’s there.

“Thank you”, you practically whisper.

“Any time”, he responds just as softly. The rest of the squad enters the room as you tear your eyes away from his and look back to your papers. He watches as you continue what you were working on when he entered, but instead of your pen, your foot taps the floor.

You walk away too quickly once Maverick assigns you to the first flight of the day, but Bob knows something’s wrong. So he waits until it’s his and Phoenix’s turn, hoping to catch you out on the tarmac as you land, but you’re still in your cockpit as they walk past. He slows, feigning a loose shoelace as he urges Phoenix to keep going.

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

Your flight had done well to get your mind off of last night, but it’s still with a deep breath that you grip the ladder as you descend. Helmet in hand, you turn to make your way back inside and grab a needed drink of water.

“Mantis?” Bob's gentle voice has you looking up at him.

“Hi- Bob”, you respond, a little taken aback he was waiting for you. He keeps his distance as Fritz and Hangman walk past the two of you.

“Are you- are you doing ok?”

“Yeah”, you clear your throat, “I’m doing ok.” It feels like his sapphire eyes can see right through you as you shift on your feet. You can lie all you want, but you know he can tell. It’s his turn to shift on his feet as he blinks rapidly before realizing what he needs to say.

“I know it might be hard, but you can still talk-”

“Bob!”, Phoenix yells from her ladder, “It’s go time!” Lost in his train of thought, He struggles to find the words as he clenches his helmet in his hand.

“Bob, I’m ok.” He’s hesitant as Phoenix yells his name again, pointing at her watch this time.

“If you say so”, he nods as you stare at your feet. With one last look at your shifting eyes, he jogs over to Phoenix who is beginning to grow even more impatient. You watch him climb into his seat before trudging back to the hangar where Rooster waits at the door.

“Don’t say anything.”

“Wasn’t gonna.” You roll your eyes as he walks behind you. He still doesn’t know that you know about his little date Wednesday night. You continue to bite your tongue as you sit across from him in the ready-room.

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

After another lunch-date with your dad in his office, you do your best to avoid both Rooster and Bob. And thank goodness all of you are being let out early today, or you wouldn’t be able to sit through another hour of going over everyone else’s flights.

“Alright, that’s everything I have for today. Depending on weather conditions on Monday, we may not have you come in, but I’ll keep you posted. Stay safe this weekend everyone.” Checking your watch, it reads 3:00, only an hour before your session which leaves you a little anxious. But after last night you are more than ready to get the help you need.

You’re out of the class room before everybody else, and soon enough gathering your stuff from your locker. Phoenix stops you before you can get out the door and to your dad’s office to wait for him.

“Hey! Floyd was looking for you.” You try your best to not look surprised at the notion, but you can feel your face contort in confusion.

“Oh, is he-”, you motion to the door of the locker room, asking if he’s waiting for you outside.

“No, he had to go. But”, reaching into her pocket, she grabs something and holds it out for you, “He did tell me to give you this.” And in between her fingers, Phoenix holds a penny. The sight of an object so abundantly common as a coin has you holding your breath. You have seen so many pennies throughout your life, but who this one came from means so much more to you than any other has. Swallowing, you reach out and gingerly take it from her hands, as if it would break if you dropped it. Strangely, you can feel your face heat up at the notion. That’s what he was trying to tell you earlier. He’s still ready and willing to listen if you need to talk.

“Is this some kind of weird inside joke between the two of you or did he really just owe you one cent?” You grip the copper coin as if it were his own hand reaching out to you, and place it in your pocket.

“No”, you laugh, “it’s just something Bob does.” Her brow raises as she stares at you with a weary eye. Obviously not understanding what’s so funny about it.

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

As if you couldn’t be more anxious for this zoom, your dad was held up by both Cyclone and Warlock when you got to his office. There’s only 20 minutes before your meeting when you get home, so unlike what you had planned you can’t take a shower beforehand. Still needing to change out of your flight suit, you put on a random shirt and jeans that were lying around your cluttered room. You glance at your own watch, 3:55. Before you forget, you run downstairs to find your dad putting his tennis shoes on.

“Hey”, you grab his attention as he looks up from the couch, “I just thought I’d let you know my meeting’s about to start in like five minutes so…”

“Don’t even worry about me”, he reassures you, “I’ll be outside doing yard work the entire time. Might as well do it now before I can’t do it this weekend.” Smiling, he gets up with his sneakers on and gives you a wink before shutting the front door behind him.

Popping your earbuds in, you open your laptop. Your palms are sweating as you click on the link in your email. A blank screen pops up with a small wheel telling you it’s loading, and then you see her. Mary. Your first and only therapist. The first person you ever told your deep dark secrets to. Bob being the second and only other. She speaks your name softly as you smile at the warmness in her tone. It takes you back to when you were only a student, having no idea how to traverse the world without the proper support.

“It’s good to see you”, her honey voice greets you.

“It’s good to see you, too”, you nod. You notice that even through the camera, she’s letting her gray hair take over what was mostly a thick and lucious black when you first met her. There’s a few more crinkles around her eyes that you find when she smiles at you, but it’s still like greeting an old friend.

“So how’s it going, how have you been?”

“Um”, you laugh awkwardly, “Things could be better.”

“Ok, why don’t you go ahead and tell me why you reached out.” Breathing out a shaky breath you start talking. You tell her about the dreams returning, the panic attacks, how you didn’t know where you were when you were gone for hours. She takes diligent notes the entire time, nodding and assuring you she’s listening.

“So let me ask you a question; do you know what triggered these nightmares? Did something happen?” You think back to the night you kissed Bob and before you can even get butterflies, the image of your mother in your dream pops the bubble. Taking a leap of faith and a deep breath all in the same beat, you turn back to the camera.

“This is all in confidence, right?” She sighs your name before answering.

“You know it is. Unless what you did put other people or yourself in harm’s way then we are fine to discuss it without me telling anyone.” Taking out one earbud, you can still hear your dad with the lawnmower, so you continue.

“I kissed someone. Twice. It was after the first time that I had a nightmare.”

“I’m not seeing the problem here.”

“He’s on my squadron. And there is a pretty strict no fraternization rule.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Yeah. So I broke a rule, made him break a rule. And I guess I just feel so guilty about it. And I did something wrong, which is why I had the dream.”

“And you had the second dream after the second kiss?”

“Not the night of. I didn’t get a lot of sleep because I was scared of it happening again. But last night was the second one. It was…terrifying. I didn’t think they were gonna come back. And I just blew up on everyone the first time around. My dad, Bradley-”

“Wait, Bradley as in, the Bradley that you grew up with?”

“That’s the one.”

“And you just see him regularly now? I mean I was looking through all your old notes and you were still pretty upset with him. Does time really heal all wounds?” You chuckle at her sarcasm.

“No, not really. It was awkward at first. But I hardly talked to him while we were working on the special detachment. After it was over, it looked like he made up with my dad, and we were made a permanent squadron. That’s when it started going downhill. Long story short, we were just kind of bickering, not really talking about the elephant in the room. He ended up saying something, I had a panic attack, then I punched him, then he started-”

“Wait, wait, wait- You punched him? I am going to need the long version of the story here. We don’t do short stories in therapy.” So you explain. Everything. How your little comments started to quickly cut deeper, how he told you to be careful before your drinking contest, and all the little warnings after the fact. And then the devastating moment where he betrayed your trust completely, leading to Bob comforting you at one of your lowest moments. And then of course, when you punched him, and how he’s been trying to get on your good side ever since, how he claims he thought you were calling to brag. As if he didn’t know what your mother was like.

“Wow. That’s a lot.” You nod in agreement. “How has it been with him since?”

“It’s so weird. He’s tried to do a complete 180, and claims he’s watching out for me. He was actually at the party, the one where I kissed- um…”

“You don’t have to say his name, it’s ok.”

“My teammate”, you find the courage to finish.

“This is a lot to process in such a short amount of time. How have you been handling it?” You scoff at just how many times you’ve had panic attacks and cried within the last month.

“Not well. Which is why I thought I should reach out.”

“I’m glad you did. I wish that therapy was a one and done kind of situation, but it’s going to take some time. Are you ready for that kind of commitment again? I know it got busy last time, and with deployments it was hard. But are you ready to put in the work?” You sigh and silently nod your head, biting your lip to avoid speaking with a frog in your throat.

“Well I hate to say this, but I think your dreams may be happening for a different reason than they did way back when they first started.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you came to me such a short time after the abuse stopped.” You try not to flinch at the word, but instinctively shut your eyes when she says it. “ When you stopped seeing her you were scared she was going to come back and find you. Now, I think your brain is reliving some memories to punish yourself. Because you feel guilty. And the fact that you see parts of her in you is making you resent yourself even more. Making you push people away before they can do the same to you.” Huh, you think.

“Does that resonate with you at all?” You laugh because it’s the only thing you can do at the moment. She hit the damn nail on the head.

“Yeah. Yeah it does.”

“Next time if you have a dream, here’s what I want you to do: I want you to find at least five things about yourself that are completely different from your mom. It can be little things in the way you look, the way you act, or anything. Because you are different. You aren’t her.” Your eyes sting at the influx of tears, and you lean your head back to stop them from falling.

“Ok, I know this was a pretty heavy session, so I want to end it on a higher note. I would like you to tell me at least three people in your life right now that make you feel loved, special, or wanted.” You shake your head, physically trying to put your mentality in a different spot than where it was at with your mother. Reaching for a tissue, you dab the straggling tears that threaten to fall.

“Um- ok. My dad, my friend Natasha”, you list out, still thinking about a third person. You can’t help that the third person your mind is pushing you to say is also the one person you’ve been trying to avoid thinking about. But it’s true. He makes you feel special and so wanted it’s kind of overwhelming, “And my friend Bob.”

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

With a deep breath you close your laptop and take out your ear buds. Your room feels stuffy all of a sudden, like all your thoughts and feelings are trapped into the sealed box. You stride across the room to open your window, and you hear your dad talking to someone. Then the snap of what you only know as a baseball hitting a glove echoes across the house. Unfortunately for your snoopy personality right now, your window faces the side of the neighbors, so you descend the stairs and look through the window in the living room.

The weather is surprisingly warm and sunny for a day before a storm. Perfect weather for spending outside you suppose. Your dad stands at one end of the yard, throwing the ball as you follow the line to the glove worn by, of course, Rooster. All of these old feelings came to life when you had to talk about him and everything else that has been happening for the past hour. When thinking about everyone who makes you feel loved, special, and wanted, Rooster did not make the cut. In fact, he has made you feel unwanted, unloved, and unimportant for the past 10 years. He threw you away like you were nothing, and even if he did apologize, it doesn’t take away the hurt that he left you with. But here he is. Throwing a baseball around with your dad like he didn’t avoid him for the last 16 years.

You huff out a breath before opening the front door, and plastering on a fake smile. If you were going to talk to him now was as good a time as any. You kind of feel bad for him, he had no idea he was walking into when he came over today.

“Hey dad”, you squint through the fading sun as the two men look your way.

“Oh hey kiddo! How was your… meeting?”

“It was good, very”, you turn and squint slightly more at Rooster who tosses the ball up and back into his hand, “enlightening.”

“That’s good. Rooster here just popped over with a box of some old things, and we found our baseball gloves.”

“I can see that. Mind if I have a go?” He tries not to look as surprised as he feels by your request, but starts taking off his glove as you walk over to him.

“Sure.” You take the warm leather glove, slipping it onto your hand as you adjust to the feeling. Slapping the worn palm, you flap it a couple times in Rooster’s direction as he tosses it at you. Not throws. Tosses. Catching it in your bare hand, you raise your brow at him.

“Really?”

“What?”

“You act like we weren’t taught to throw a ball by the same person”, you note as you hook your thumb to your dad standing just to the side. “Throw it like you mean it.” Rolling the ball a couple times in your hand, you grip it and throw the fading white ball straight at Bradley’s chest. He manages to catch it with little time to spare, obviously underestimating just how hard you can throw. He glances over to your dad with wide eyes as he shrugs back with a smile. A hint of pride in his features. Rooster looks back at you while you open and close your glove a couple times.

“You sure you can handle it?” You roll your eyes at his assumption. Either he thinks too highly of his throwing ability, or way too low of your ability to catch a damn ball.

“Yes. I’ve handled a lot worse that you’ve thrown my way, so-”, you flap the glove once more, “try me.”

Rooster winces at the insinuation. But he gives up holding back, not all the way quite yet, but he throws it back with some of the power he was using with your dad. You continue throwing and catching the ball as your dad watches on with a warm smile.

“Alright”, he comments, “Looks like you two are doing fine, so I’m gonna go finish mowing the lawn.” He heads through the gate to the backyard as Rooster gets finished catching your last throw to him. Rooster takes the ball into his hand to throw back, but hesitates before putting it back in his glove.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know”, he responds as if pondering the question himself, “You’ve just got this look in your eye.” He winds up, and you catch the ball as he throws it at your chest. Mirroring his earlier action, you roll the ball around in your palm as you contemplate your next move.

“I’ve always got that look in my eye. If I don’t have it, that means something’s wrong.” You throw it back the tiniest bit harder, but Rooster does well to mask his surprise at the force. He’s still got that hint of suspicion on his face, but otherwise ignores it and is about to throw the ball back before you speak up.

“Oh, there is one thing”, you laugh without any real humor, “How was your date with Emily?” The ball slips from his hand as he attempts to throw it at you, causing it to fly up in the air before landing and rolling to your feet. His mouth opens and closes before he finally decides to say something as you raise an eyebrow at him.

“It was- it was- Where’d you hear about that?” Stepping forward, you pick up the ball.

“For an old man who means well, my dad can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

“I-”, he stands with his hands on his hips, confusion written on his face. There is no way you were supposed to know about this, and now he’s been caught. It feels good for a fraction of a second. “It wasn’t a secret.” He says as he kicks the grass. He reminds you of that little boy you once knew, getting in trouble and trying to hide his guilt. But before you stands the grown man who still can’t handle the consequences of his own actions.

“I just can’t believe you Rooster.” You throw the ball back to him as he looks up. Hard. It pushes the glove back into his chest and his lips twist into a grimace.

“For what? Going on a date?”, his voice raises the slightest bit as he throws it back to you. Just as hard. The only difference being you were ready for it.

“Not for that you idiot. For going on a date with her!”.

“What’s wrong with her?” Without meaning to, your jaw drops as you look around the street of your neighborhood. Your dad’s lawnmower is still going in the backyard as you turn to him.

“Are you kidding me? Rooster, it was your idea to set her up with Bob, and after she laughed in his face you decided to stick your tongue down her throat in the middle of the party and then what? Ask her out?”

“Ok, she kissed me. And it obviously wasn’t going to work out between the two of them! Why are you so upset about this?”

“Because even if she supposedly didn’t know she was being set up with Bob, you did! I mean, what the hell kind of wingman are you? But you know what?”, you decide as you throw the ball back to him, closer to his face this time, “You two assholes deserve each other.” The ball lands in his glove as he’s quick to catch it just below his chin.

“Whoa. Hold on. You’re kind of being an asshole right now.”

“Are not”, you huff.

“Are too”, he mimics.

“How am I the one being an asshole for trying to defend my friends?”

“Uh-un. Friend. Singular. And you’re being a little too defensive for someone you claim is just your friend.” You swallow, glancing to the gate leading to the backyard, the hum from the lawnmower still going. There’s not a chance he could have heard what he said, but you’re still paranoid nonetheless. Rooster’s winding up as you look back at him, giving you barely enough time to catch the ball right in front of your face. You’d be lying if you said your hand didn’t sting from the force of his throw.

“Keep your voice down”, you grit in his direction. He just shakes his head.

“So I’m right then”, he scoffs. “You just don’t learn, do you?” You snap back to him as his lip lifts. As if he knows something more than you. He couldn’t be more condescending if he tried.

“Learn what?”, you snap, “Don’t act like you’re not doing this for any other reason than to rid yourself of whatever guilt you have left.” You grunt, throwing the ball as hard as you can as he catches it with ease. Almost as if you’re playing catcher, he plays his part as pitcher beautifully, winding up even more than before, throwing the ball back to you almost immediately. The ball snaps in the glove you hold up in front of your face.

“That guilt will live with me for the rest of my life.” The draw of his brows beneath the beating sun tells you he’s angry. Maybe not with you, but it’s still anger either way, and it has to be let out somehow. “So if I can stop you from making a mistake, keep you from breaking your heart even more than I have, I will do whatever it takes.” Oh you’re angry now. You throw the ball with everything you have back at him. You are not some dumb kid like he was when he left. You’ve been through enough to have grown up younger than you should have.

“If you really cared about how I felt- or how anybody other than yourself felt that for that matter, you wouldn’t set someone up with a woman who is so obviously wrong for him. And then”, you laugh, “after she’s embarrassed him you wouldn’t kiss her in front of him and go on a damn date with her!” He only shakes his head at the ground before gripping the baseball in his right hand, rolling it around.

“I set him up to try and stop you from making a mistake. I was doing it to protect you!” The sound of a dog barking has you whipping your head to the street to your left. It sounds almost identical to Sylvia but you can’t seem to find the source of the noise. Your heart beats a little faster at the thought of him taking her for a walk nearby. That would be such god-awful timing. The thought of him possibly walking Sylvia down your street has you too rattled, and you’re slightly disappointed with yourself.

The searing pain hits you before the ball even falls to the ground, as you do with it.

“Jesus Christ!”, you scream as you fall to your back, cradling the side of your face the baseball hit.

“Oh shit! Oh my god- are you ok?”, Rooster appears on his knees right next to you, brown eyes wide as you’ve ever seen them as he grimaces along with you. The glove is just big enough for you to be able to throw it off of your hand, hitting him in the chest as you writhe on the freshly cut grass. You can’t help it as the hot tears slide out of your eyes, the pain too much.

“Hey, hey you’re fine! Don’t cry, please don’t cry!”, he pleads as you try to open your eyes long enough to glare at him.

“You hit me in the face with a fucking baseball of course I’m going to fucking cry!”, you scream. “You IDIOT!”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I thought you were looking!” You glare at him through your uncovered eye as his hands hover over you. “Ok, are you bleeding? Lemme see.” You glare as hard as you can at him as he backs away. The pulse emanating from the side of your face is stopping you from feeling anything else, but you’re pretty sure that liquid sliding down your face are just stray tears that refuse to stay put.

“Ok, that’s fine. Um-”, he panics as you beg yourself to stop crying in front of him. “Alright, I’m gonna go get some ice, stay right here.” And before you have the mind to make a smart comment about going anywhere, your hands reach out and wrap around his ankle. The unexpected movement causes his weight to shift forward, giving him no time to brace himself as he falls to the ground. It doesn’t relieve any pain, but it feels good to watch him face plant onto the grass. There was still so much to say, too much you feel as though you can’t even get out your feelings through your words.

“Hey, what the hell?!”, he turns over as you grab your discarded glove.

“You were protecting me?!”. He does his best to dodge your blows, but it’s no use as he puts his hands up to protect himself and his stupid face. With the glove in both your hands, you whack at his torso. “I have been taking care of myself since I was 12!”, you grunt as you continue to hit him. “I am a grown woman! I don’t need to be lectured by anybody, especially not you!”

“I’m sorry, just stop!”, it’s obviously more of a nuisance than actually hurting him, but you are in so much pain right now you just want to get him back anyway you can. He attempts to crawl away on his back, but you stop him by sitting on his stomach, causing him to grunt at the unexpected weight.

“HEY!”, you pause at the sound of your dad’s voice, arms lifted in the air mid-blow. Rooster is still covering his face with his arms as he turns to look at your dad. “What is going on?!” Your arms are still in the air as the two of you look at each other before attempting to speak over one another.

“He started it!” “It was an accident!”, you yell at the same time. The sound of his voice has you looking down at the audacity of the man you are currently pinning to the grass.

“Why would you throw a ball at someone who isn’t looking?!”

“I thought you were!”, he’s quick to defend himself. You catch his gaze soften as his eyes shift to the right side of your face where he hit you with the ball.

“Inside, now!”, he orders as you and Rooster scramble to your feet. He walks ahead of you as your dad trails behind you. “Good afternoon Mrs. Callahan!” You turn to find your neighbor walking her goldendoodle just across the street, eyeing the state of all three of you that your dad doesn’t try to hide. One of the biggest differences between your parents. Your mother would have walked you delicately into the house pretending everything was under control and just fine. Until she closed the door. Your dad on the other hand, he knows things aren’t under his control and he doesn’t try to hide it. He’s not trying to keep up some image. It’s easy when you don’t care what other people think.

The dog barks once more before your dad ushers you inside.

He urges the two of you to sit on the couch as he runs to grab the first-aid kid, and you take one side begrudgingly as Rooster takes the other. Your face is starting to throb, but once you look down at your jeans you notice the grass and dirt stains on not only your knees, but your hands as well. You’re sure the back of them look the same, as do Rooster’s clothes.

Your dad sits on the coffee table before you, leaning forward as his hand gently moves your face so he can examine it. He tuts as you’re forced to look over at Rooster, who as you expected, is covered in grass stains as he twiddles with his thumbs. You can’t help but wonder why he’s still listening to your dad, it’s not like when you were younger and he was left in charge of the two of you. He can leave if he wants to.

“Well”, your dad starts as he reaches for the gauze, “It’s not bleeding too bad…” Huh, so you guess some of that liquid was blood. “Probably from the stitching”, he talks to himself as you wince from the pressure he’s applying.

“It’s gonna leave a nice bruise, though”, Wordlessly you push his hand away and apply the pressure yourself as he eyes you once before looking at the man on the other end of the couch.

“You ok Rooster?”

“‘M fine”, he mumbles back.

“Good”, he says as he rounds the coffee table. “Cause what the hell is going on? Huh? I left for two minutes!” He takes one hand off of his hips to point at the two of you, ready to go into a rant before his phone rings from where he left it in the kitchen. Glancing between the pair of you and back to the kitchen he slides a dirty hand down his face.

“Wait right here”, he demands pointing at the two of you before locating the source of the ringing. The only thing you can hear is the muffled sound of your dad talking on the phone, and the slight shift of Rooster on the other end of the couch.

“I’m really sorry-”

“Just-”, you cut Rooster off, “shut up.” He’s quiet for a second. Just a second. Before he decides he’s not going to listen to you.

“I got a concussion from getting hit in the head with a ball”, he comments as you roll your eyes. As if you could have forgotten. “Mom took me to the ER just in case, and as per usual, she was right.”

“I know, Rooster”, you interrupt him. “I was there. It was the summer you were on that comp baseball team.”

“I know you were. I just wanna remind you in case you feel like brushing this one off.”

“I’m not-”, you scoff, “What makes you think I’m gonna ‘brush this one off’?” He shrugs and scratches the back of his neck.

“I just remember you always saying when you got hurt that it wasn’t a big deal. Concussions are kind of a big deal.”

“I know- I’ve had one.” His brow furrows as he turns to face you, concern written into the creases in his forehead.

“Wait- when did you have one?” Your face turns hot as you realize you’ve revealed more than you would have liked to.

“I don’t know”, you shrug as you try to avoid his gaze, ”I was like 14.”

“Well what happened?” Taking away the gauze from your face, there’s a small line of blood, but nothing else. You trade it out for the icepack on the table and gently press it to where you’re hurting.

“I fell into a wall”, you tell him as you focus on the sting it brings to your cheek.

“You just fell into a wall?”

“Yeah- I tripped over something in my room.” It’s quiet for a moment as he mulls over what he’s about to say.

“Did you fall or were you pushed?” The color drains from your face as you clench your jaw. How dare he? You turn to face him, dropping both hands into your lap so he has to look at your entire face. Look at what he did.

“No. You don’t get to do this. You don’t just get to pick and choose when you’re loyal or protective. You left, Rooster. You knew what was going on and you still decided to leave. So whatever happened after I didn’t see you for 16 years, you don’t deserve to know.” He’s quiet as his eyes soften at you.

“And as for Bob-”, you clear your throat, “He’s my friend. And I will defend any of my friends. That included you at one point. I did in fact. I defended you when Hangman made his stupid comments, but now you’re the one who keeps running his mouth, and- and hanging around people who think it’s fine to be so blatantly rude. So you know what, Emily might just be perfect for you.” His mouth opens and closes before he thinks better than to say anything.

“As far as I’m concerned, you don’t owe me anything and I don’t want anything from you. So stop thinking you’re protecting me when all you do is keep reminding me of everything I have lost and can’t have.” He’s actually quiet now, you think you have stunned him into a complete silence. This may just be the time for him to listen, so you’re gonna say what you’ve been wanting to say for a long time.

“When your mom died- I wasn’t just grieving for her. I-“, your throat starts to close up but you push through it anyway, “you left. You left and I never heard from you again and I had to grieve for someone who wasn’t even dead. He chose to leave and never come back. And I know that you were hurting, but so was I.” He clears his throat as you listen to your dad finishing up his conversation. The ice pack crinkles as you press it against your face once more. It really does fucking hurt. “So please, just once, think of how your actions affect anybody else but yourself.”

He doesn’t bother saying anything else. What else is there to say? A sorry won’t even make a difference anymore. He’s said it too many times for the words to have meaning when they leave his lips. You watch his adam's apple bob before deciding you don’t want to look at him even more. The only thing you can hear is the faint sound of your dad from the kitchen, tying up the end of his phone call. Then you’re almost sure you can hear Bradley sniffle before he abruptly stands, staring at his hands.

“I’m gonna go. There are a couple things for you in that box”, he motions to the cardboard rectangle sitting on the coffee table. He clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck. “If you keep getting headaches that won’t go away- just please go get checked out. I uh-”, this is the first time in a long time you’ve seen him so nervous he can’t find his words. One of the last times was speaking at Carole’s funeral, and your eyes can’t help but tear up at the parallel. “Mantis- I don’t want to hurt you. But I know I already did, so I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry”, he whispers his apology before heading to the front door. Your dad is walking in just as he leaves.

“Where’s Rooster?”

“He had to go”, you say with a clogged throat. He stands with his hands on his hips, perplexed at the entire situation.

“Well- do I need to talk to him?”

“No”, the words fall from your lips, “It’s fine.” He catches the far-off look in your eyes as you stare at the cardboard box on the table.

“Hey”, he almost whispers to get your attention. You look up with unshed tears in your eyes. “Are you ok?” It hurts to swallow as you try your best not to break the barrier of crying.

“It just hurts”, you explain, not entirely sure what part you’re talking about. He opens his mouth to say something else, but you stand before you let him talk. “I’m gonna go lie down. I’ve had a long day.” With a skeptical eye he lets you go, but not before sending you with the ice pack and letting you know he’d be up to check on you.

Once your back is turned and you’ve made it up the last steps, the first of many tears fall without much trying. You turn the shower on instead of lying in bed, deciding to do something somewhat productive. And once out you try your best not to look in the mirror, but catch sight of your cheek. It’s already swollen, an undertone of purple creeping out from the tiny cut from the stitching of the ball.

After getting into bed you stare at the ceiling, letting the day sink in. You lie there for a moment, trying to quiet your thoughts in order to let you sleep, but they’re too loud. Turning over, you stare at your bedside table. A framed picture you keep of you and Carole sits next to your phone. You can almost hear her laugh through the glossy finish of the photo, but you see Bradley in her smile through and through. A tear slides across your face and lands on your pillow, darkening the fabric. And you let it happen. You let the next one happen, too. And then you don’t stop yourself from crying.

Letting the rest out, you fold your knees to your chest and allow yourself to cry. You cry for Carole, for how much you miss her and how much life she missed out on. And you cry for Bradley. Even if he did hurt you, you cry because you miss him, too. And you cry because you wish you were brave. You wish you had the courage to say something to someone when you were younger. And even now, you cry because you wish you had the strength to look Bob in the eye and say- anything. Get past your own fears of rejection and punishment, and let him know that you see him for what he is. A good person, who deserves everything and more. And you know someday he’ll find someone who is more than eager to give that to him. Even if you already are, it can't be you.

Taglist:

@lemmons1998

@itsmytimetoodream

@theamuz

@harrysgothicbitch

@mygyn

@luckyladycreator2

@marve2014

@wretchedmo

@callsignwidow

@finnydraws

@melsunshine

@jostan456

@okiegirl24

@beebeechaos

@eclecticfashionbookszipper

@hunbomb

@nerdgirljen

@knight-of-the-doctor

#why me?#top gun maverick #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fic #top gun fanfiction #bob floyd x reader #mavdad #robert bob floyd x female reader

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callsign-dexter · 1 year

Text

Light of His Life

Request: Hi I just wanted to say that you are an amazing writer!!!

I recently read the one with Mav and his sleepy toddler at a navy ball and it sparked a new idea.

It said in the fic that the reader was a product of a one night stand so can we have a story on Mav's first time meeting her/ first night she stays with him/his reaction to the mother leaving/ him deciding he is going to keep the reader.thank you for considering and this is 100% your choice!!!!!! :)

Pairings: Maverick x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff

A/N: I wanna say happy birthday to one my dearest friends @maverick-wingman! I hope you have a good one! Love you so much! 💗

A/N Pt. 2: I did everything except the mother leaving. I hope that's ok.

Masterlist

First Installment: Light of His Life

Second Installment: Maverick is a dad?

Third Installment: Crossing Paths

Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell became a father on August 3, 1987. He wasn't planning on having kids at least not yet but when you go around having fun with every lady you see then consequences will catch up. His thoughts of not having kids were changed when there was a knock on the door bright and early Monday morning. He was already awake due to his internal alarm clock waking him up, he didn't have to go to work since it was raining and all jets were grounded until further notice. He walked to the door and opened it to be greeted by a woman in business casual clothing and a car seat in her hand, files in the other, and a diaper bag on her shoulder. She had her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and very light makeup on.

"Are you Pete Mitchell? I'm Avery Timber with CPS." The lady whose name he learned was Avery Timber.

"Yes I'm Pete Mitchell but please call me Maverick. Please come in." He replied and she smiled and stepped through the door.

"Of course. Callsign right?" She asked him.

"Yes that's right. Navy?" Maverick asked her and she shook her head no.

"I'm not in the Navy but my dad is a Naval Aviator." Avery said and that sparked Maverick's attention.

"Oh, what's his name?" He asked curiously trying to be friendly and nosy at the same time.

"Tom Jardian. Callsign Stinger." She replied and Maverick paled but quickly recovered before she notice since she was busy getting everything situated and putting the bag on the ground.

"Oh he was my higher commanding officer. You don't have the same last name?" He asked her she smiled and looked at him and shook her head.

"I got married, and my last name changed to Timber. Don't worry he hasn't said anything about you that will change this outcome." Avery said, and Maverick nodded glad about the part of him not saying anything. "Anyways I'm here because of this little girl." She said and stroked the sleeping baby's head.

Maverick finally got over his shock and nervousness when he looked over at the sleeping baby girl. "Right. Who is this cutie?" He asked now curious of her. He has a feeling of what the answer was going to be since some CPS agent was bringing her to him.

"She doesn't have a name yet. The hospital was just calling her Jane Doe. Her mother, Layla Kyler, gave up parenting rights as soon as she was born. She's a well-behaved and quiet baby." She said and watched Maverick's face fall. "I assume you know her." She continued.

"Yes. I had slept with her one night and left the next morning. We never contacted each other after that." Maverick said looking at the baby and he could now see that she looked exactly like him already, especially with having thick dark locks.

"Well, this makes it a little bit easier. Maverick meet your daughter. She's a week old. She stayed in the hospital so that they could monitor her while we tracked you down, which was somewhat hard to do." Avery told him with a giggle and a smile. Maverick smiled back still looking at the little girl that was now his. "If you don't believe this we can get a DNA test done but that is totally up to you." She finished and Maverick shook his head.

"No, I believe it. She has the Mitchell looks." He said and stroked the little girl's cheek which she leaned into.

"Right. Ok. I'm assuming you don't have any baby stuff." Avery said and Maverick nodded. "Do you need someone to go with you?" She asked and Maverick shook his head.

"No I have a friend that should have some extra stuff available. I'll have them stop by and bring it when we're done here." Maverick said and Avery nodded accepting it.

"Sounds perfect. Here are the copies of when Layla gave up parental rights," she laid a stack of papers in front of her "here is her birth certificate you will need to name her and I'll take it to the courthouse and have them send you a copy" she laid it on top of the stack "and finally papers for you to sign so you have full custody." She finished and handed him a pen which he gladly signed then got to the birth certificate and immediately knew what to name her 'Y/N Grace Mitchell'. After he signed the papers she got up collected the papers she needed and held out a hand for him to shake and they shook hands. "If you have any problems or questions or advice, give me a call." Avery said and handed him a business card.

"Thank you, Avery. Tell your dad I said hi." He chuckled showing her the door and opening it for her. She turned to him.

"You are very welcome, Maverick. I will certainly tell him that. Goodbye, and good luck." She said with a smile and walked out the door, he closed it and turned to the baby who was now awake and looking at him.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Alright, now time to call Carole and Goose and pray they have Bradley's old baby stuff. He took out his phone and hesitated to call but had to get it over with. He dialed her number and she picked up on the second ring.

"Maverick what's up?" Carole asked him when she answered the phone.

"Hey, Carole. Do you happen to have Bradley's old baby stuff by any chance?" Maverick asked. There was a heavy pause.

"We do. Why?" She asked curiously, again another pause.

"I have someone that you all need to meet. But bring Bradley's old stuff. I'll see you when you get here." Maverick said.

"We'll see you soon." She said and hung up.

30 minutes later they showed up and like promised they had Bradley's old stuff including a crib. They knocked on the door and Maverick picked Y/N up and walked to the door and opened it. Everyone was silent.

"Maverick did you steal a baby?" Goose said and Maverick scoffed.

"No Goose she's mine." He replied, "This is why I wanted to see if you had Bradley's old stuff." Maverick said and Carole made grabby hands towards her and Maverick happily gave her over. They walked into the house and went and sat down at the table.

"Well, she's adorable! What's her story?" Carole said while Y/N looked at her through Bradshaw family in curiously.

"Goose do you remember a Layla Kyler?" He asked him and Goose stood there and thought.

"Yea she's the girl you took home 9 months ago and left in the morning...." and when he saw Maverick's face he knew. "No this is her and your kid?" Goose exclaimed.

"Yes and she gave up parental rights at the hospital. They kept her for a week there making sure she was healthy and to track me down." Maverick said.

"So are you going to keep her?" Bradley asked they looked at him and Maverick smiled and nodded.

"I wasn't at first but then I stroked her cheek and she leaned into me I knew right then and there she was staying." Maverick said turning his attention onto his daughter. It was true he already loved that little with his heart. They ate lunch, talked more, held Y/N more, and then Maverick and Goose decided to put her nursery together.

They talked more and Y/N was passed around and even Bradley got to hold her, which she immediately took to. Bradley and Carole stayed with Y/N while Goose and Maverick set up her nursery which should've taken a few minutes but with them two it took several hours.

Finally, after 6 hours, everything was set up. While they were doing that Carole and Bradley put away the baby food and refrigerator baby food as well as fed Y/N. Goose and Maverick came downstairs.

"Took you boys long enough." Carole said in a sarcastic tone and handed Maverick his daughter.

"Well, we had some difference of opinions." Goose said to them.

"Well, it's getting late. We should get going. Maverick you can call me anytime. Everything is put away." Carole said ushering the Bradshaw boys out the door to give father and daughter time to bond. Maverick wanted to protest and started to when she spoke back up "You'll be fine. We're only two doors down." She finished off.

They left and it was just Maverick and Y/N who was looking at him and smiling. Maverick looked at her and smiled back. He truly did love this girl.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

When it was bedtime, Maverick was a nervous wreck. He had called Carole and she walked him through changing a diaper, fixing a bottle, and putting her down. Now when people say some babies are easy, Y/N is the definition of an easy baby. OK.

"Ok Y/N. We're going to have a goodnight and I'll be here the entire time." Maverick said and she just looked at him. He sat in the rocking chair and rocked her she fussed a little bit but fell asleep pretty quickly. While she was asleep he confessed a lot of things. "Listen I know you're asleep right now and you not going to remember or understand this. I love you, baby. At first, I didn't know if wanted to keep you but then you leaned into my touch and I knew right then and there I was keeping you. Alright, I'm gonna put you down and hope you don't wake up. I love you, Sunshine." Maverick poured out his heart. He put her in her crib gently.

Maverick did not get any sleep that night and he slept on the floor so he could check on her throughout the night. She was the perfect angel.

The next morning he was up early and called Viper and Jester and explained the situation and they gave him as much time as he needed. Y/N woke up and Maverick picked her up "Hello there, Sunshine." She giggled back at him and they headed into the kitchen. They each got something to eat and went about their day.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

They got a routine down that they could follow. They had a good first week together. It also helped that he had Carole just two doors down. When he had to go back to work Y/N stayed with Carole and Bradley during the day. Y/N really loves Bradley even if they were 3 years apart.

Maverick was definitely keeping her. No doubt about that. Avery called in to check on both of them.

Maverick finally had sunshine in his life. He was finally whole. Y/N is the light of his life.

Tag List:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

#maverick x daughter!reader #daughter reader top gun #daughter!reader top gun #top gun imagine #top gun x reader #top gun fanfiction

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demigoddessqueens · 3 months

Text

Masterlist 11

Writing Drabbles

Intimacy

avert your eyes

SFW writings

Match up pairings - Valkyrie // Trevor Belmont // Alucard // multi-fandom pairing //

Song 🎶 fics - Vax fic // Percy fic // Grog // Caleb // Cadeuces // Grog - fic 2 //

Song fic: multi-party - Pike/Jester/Laudna //

Pretty Little Liars 💋/Original Sin 🔪- being mouse’s sibling //

Genshin Impact - Neuvillette flirting //

Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon 🐉- aegon + writing prompt // aemond headcanons // incorrect quotes // jock 💪 aemond //

Ewan Mitchell - Martin (in the modern world) //

The Decameron - Dr Dioneo fluff // Dioneo and the artist //

Hades - making out with Moros //

Marvel

MCUniverse - Namor + female general // Paradox ⚡️ headcanons // incorrect quotes // incorrect quotes 2 // incorrect quotes 3 // incorrect quotes 4 // incorrect quotes 5 //

Werewolf by Night - Jack Russell fluff //

X-Men - relationship headcanons //

Bridgerton - Benedict SFW (+ NSFW) //

Fallout - found family + Lucy //

Dune - Chani + sister!figure //

Ultraman Rising - kenji x male!reader //

A Quiet Place: Day One - dating Eric //

Monkey Man - writing prompt ask //

Blood of Zeus ⚡️- ares x Hindu!god!reader // Dionysus with pregnant!reader + twins // hard to get Ares // can’t carry a tune 🎶 // Hermes and Apollo twins // sneaking with Poseidon // childhood friend // rise of Venus 💕 // friends of monsters // plus size reader //

Critical Role 🎲

Vox Machina - thicc thighs // (my darling) yandere // grog + sorcerer!reader // Percy + harpy kiss // yandere Vax and Percy // bard oc + scanlan // kidnapped?! // wild witch 🧙// domestic + affectionate //

Mighty Nein - hold my ale // you get separated // flirting as a bard 🎵//

Bell’s Hells - constellation Druid //

Other -

Dungeon Meshi - toshiro headcanons //

Castlevania/Nocturne 🌙 - once upon a December // Fae healer lover // fall asleep on their shoulder // Trio + modern au // lover’s voice kink // divine paladin, cleric // roasts and insults // richter + elf!reader // sugar 🍬 rush //

Assassins Creed - Kenway friend // drunk Haytham // Connor and author s/o // the cuddling type // gyaru reader // altair and day off // Altair and eagles // Malik headcanons // markings of Eden // supportive Altair //

Codexmonthly prompts

July “magic”

August “rooftop”

September “leap”

Baldurs Gate - linking pinkies // peck 💋 on lips // practicing “I love you” // Gale + insecure!body reader // blue dragon in the rain // too close to call //

Batstarion 🦇 Week 2024 - day 6 // day 7

Star Wars - Rey skywalker + reader with anxiety //

NSFW writings

Twisters 🌪️ - sweet darlin //

Critical Role 🎲

Multiparty - match freak //

Vox Machina - lover & giver // ride of your life //

Mighty Nein - your reward + round 2 //

Bell’s Hells - braius fic //

Castlevania - you taste good (ft C.R.) //

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orion-lake · 2 months

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Hello August 2024!! I present you with my favourite creations for July 2024. If there is any content that is not public or work safe, it will have an *asterix next to it (and tagged in the comments appropriately). Please, take a look and remember to like and reblog any content that you enjoy.

Colin and Pen + wide shots by @ohtendril

@pscentral event 28: throwback (leverage) by @trueloveistreacherous

the hunger games gifset by @kvtnisseverdeen

↳ agrippina the elder by @cesareeborgia

because you’re the mockingjay by @mockingdream-deactivated2014083 (tw: flashing)

COURTSHIP (eloise bridgerton's version) by @cressidascowper

FRANCESCA BRIDGERTON & JOHN STIRLING by @nataliescatorccio

favourite type of outcasts wednesday gifset by @remusjohnslupin

the hunger games gifset by @graciesabram

peggy carter gifset by @userpeggycarter

derry girls gifset by @shaunashipman

btvs gifset by @buffysource

the witcher gifset by @claraswald

little women gifset by @henwilsons

enid sinclair by @wenclairdaily

tangled gifset by @antoniosvivaldi

kanthony gifset by @cal-kestis

katniss everdeen graphic/edit by @hearthorne

polin gifset by @nancyxhardy

Schitt's Creek (2015 - 2020): DavidRose by @rosedavid

Elizabeth Mitchell as Ingrid, The Snow Queen ❄️ by @singinprincess

polin gifset by @crowley-anthony

polin gifset by @agathabridgerton

TAYLOR SWIFT: THE ERAS TOUR (2023) by @breakbleheavens

IN THIS MOMENT ► Sanctify Me by @x--daughters-of-darkness--x

PEGGY CARTER APPRECIATION WEEK 24’ by @malewifesteverogers (deactivated)

#favpost #favs post

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thegigilwriter · 4 months

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11 | “Danger & Star, Rooster & Angel” — Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Mitchell OC

Summary. 26-year-old Lucy Asa Mitchell did not know what was in store for her when she first bumped into Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. After an instant mutual connection followed by a sweet whirlwind romance that swept both their feet, Lucy found herself being immersed deeper into Bradley’s world of the Navy, F-14s, and deployments. What she didn’t expect was finding was the answer to an elusive part of her past — the identity of her long-lost father.

Chapter Summary. After confirmation through her mother’s old letters and their initial meeting at the Hard Deck in Chapter 10 , Lucy is sure that Pete “Maverick” Mitchell is indeed her father. In this chapter, Lucy grapples with this revelation while preparing to meet him once again at Penny’s for dinner with Bradley. She has so many questions. How did they meet? What happened? Why did he leave? More importantly… how will this affect her blossoming relationship with Bradley?

Masterlist

Keywords/Warnings: Romance, fluff, possible inaccuracies of navy deployments

11 | Dinner at Penny’s 🥟

August 27, 2023

Dear Star,

I am writing to you from a cramped bunk bed in the middle of the night in a docked carrier. We have just settled in Yokusaka. I still hate that we had to move away from Atsugi. I donʼt like being far from you. Iʼll be sure to visit you this weekend on my off. Today, I had the little spring rolls that you first made me at your apartment. They were being sold in this little Filipino store at a street corner. It was good, but to be honest... yours was a whole lot better. What do you put in there? I miss you, Star. I canʼt wait to see you this weekend. I just wanna lay in your arms and sleep all day...

How do you react to that? How do you react to the revelation of the identity of your long-lost father? Whose every indication in the course of your childhood was erased? Ever since that night at the Hard Deck, Lucy began to wrack her memory for any instance that her mother, Tala, ever brought up her mysterious father. All those little conversations in the kitchen or late nights in her bedroom. Whenever, Lucy had tried to ask about her about Maverick, she would always give her this look— with those downcast eyes that glistened slightly when it hit the light the right way. Her mother would merely say: ‘thereʼs work to be done,ʼ and cup her cheek before leaving to get her hands busy again. Lucy has always understood that bringing up her father dredged up his painful memory — but she didnʼt understand until two years ago when she first read the letters, the extent of their love, ergo the sadness that it inevitably entailed. But what happened between them? It didnʼt seem that her mother harbored a certain disdain towards him. She was unreadable on the matter of Maverick.

So here Lucy was now, the afternoon before Pennyʼs dinner, rolling lumpia on the living room table with Bradley and Downtown Abbey once again on the screen. Lucy followed the same recipe she has always used — the one her mother used, the one belonged to her grandmother. The one that Maverick had all those years ago in in her small apartment when she lived in Japan. If she was honest with herself, Lucy didnʼt know how to feel. In her mind, she knows that she should dislike him. With everything that her mother has been through — as an immigrant and a lone provider for two children—she should reject the father that turned his back on her and her brother. But in her heart, she so yearned to know him.

“Angel?ˮ She felt Bradley kiss the space beneath her ear. “You seem spacey, you alright?ˮ

Lucy smiled at the sight of him. He was clad in an old Navy shirt and gray sweatpants, with a tousled head of locks. He had on these plastic gloves with meat filling in their crevices.

“Iʼm okay,ˮ she reassured him. “Just a little nervous

“Well donʼt be,ˮ He told her. “Penny already likes you alot, you and Mav have some good common ground, and Ameliaʼs really sweet. Plus... they are really gonna love this...ˮ

Lucy stared at the pile of completed spring rolls, and smiled hopefully.

Bradley wasnʼt too sure why Lucy was so exasperated about this dinner. Of course, a certain level of nervousness is assumed when meeting your significant otherʼs family for the first time, but surely not at the level Lucy was at. He watched silently as she carefully decided between three outfits— in his eyes, she looked beautiful in all of them. He especially liked how her bell bottom jeans complemented... her body. She was so occupied with her decision, that she absentmindedly stepped into the hallway in a lacy wired bra and matching white underwear with a small rose embroidered at the front hem. She was looking at two hangers of dresses, completely unaware of Bradleyʼs grazing eyes.

“Um... Angel?ˮ He said calmly. Face red hot and throat dry. Seeing her in a bikini was one thing, but seeing her in her intimates was another.

“Which one do you think looks better?ˮ She asked him, her head cocking to the side at his flustered expression. “Bradley?ˮ

At that moment, only then did Lucy realize as she looked down on herself. She blushed, using the dresses on the hangers to conceal herself.

“Well...ˮ she blushed, laughing. “Showʼs over!ˮ

Bradley wasnʼt used to this. He normally wasnʼt so flustered by half-naked women. He felt like he was in college — experiencing his first sexual encounter. Itʼs been so long that he had been with someone seriously, that he forgot what it was like before the sex. The romance and intimacy that usually ensued before the physical act. Bradley was once more reminded of his age — by the years that he had just kept it ‘casualʼ — that is until he met Lucy. On that note, Lucy finally reappeared from her room — in a olive-colored blouse, with clunky heels, hair half-up, and donned with her dark wash bell-bottom jeans. Bradley grinned.

Bradley held Lucyʼs hand all the way to Pennyʼs house, drawing circles on the back of her hand soothingly. She kissed his hand affectionately.

“Hey,ˮ Lucy said to him, her eyes kept on the road ahead of them. “Can I ask you something?ˮ

“Of course you can, Angel.ˮ

“Does it bother you that I donʼt have a pet name for you?ˮ She asked him.

“I donʼt mind it all,ˮ Bradley replied. “Why do you ask?ˮ

“I know that there are some guys that donʼt care for it at all, so I was just asking...ˮ

“Well if you have one in mind... Iʼd love to hear it,ˮ he took his eyes briefly from the road to look into hers.

“Well I have two in mind,ˮ Lucy said.

“Fire away.ˮ

“I really like your callsign... so ‘Roo.’ ʼˮ

“I like that too,ˮ Bradley smiled. “And the other?ˮ

“Daddy,ˮ Lucy replied nonchalantly.

Bradley nearly swerved off of the road and Lucy quickly checked on the lumpia in the backseat before laughing breathlessly.

“Jesus!ˮ Lucy chuckled. “I was only kidding, Bradley!ˮ

But deep inside, Bradley wished she wasnʼt. He swears that this girl was gonna put him in an early grave.

Penny welcomed Lucy with a hug the moment she stepped on the threshold of her house. Bradley standing was beside her with a tray of spring rolls; and Maverick and Amelia trailed behind Penny. Introductions with Amelia were made before the party entered the home. Lucy, with her fondness for design, looked around and appreciated the subtle naval and sailor themes along with the cream minimalist color palette that just brought space and light into the room. It was only 6 in the evening, and the setting sun glowed beautifully as it shone through the glass door, windows, kitchen and dining room.

They all sat together on a round, dining room table with Bradley and Lucy sitting side by side. Penny and Maverick were seated in a similar fashion, with Amelia between the two pairs. Penny and Amelia served their homemade fettuccine pasta carbonara and Pete helped with the chicken roast. A pitcher of ice tea sat in the center, and Lucy placed her spring rolls in their aluminum pan beside it. Pete stared for a considerable amount of time at the rolls — contemplating where he had seen them before. The way they were neatly folded and their savory scent were all too familiar... until he finally took a glimpse of the face across from him. It was if he was back in that little apartment 26 years ago cramped on a dining room table — looking at what was the most uniquely beautiful face he had ever seen.

“Gosh Lucy!ˮ Penny sighed. “That smells so good!ˮ

“What is that?ˮ Amelia asked quietly, intrigued.

“Itʼs lumpia,ˮ Pete answered suddenly eyes still fixated on the rolls. Lucy smiled at him, as the rest looked at him with a mildly surprised expression.

“I-I uh,ˮ Pete said shyly and then averted himself to Lucy. “Iʼve had them before. Tala made them for me once and so did her mom when I had dinner with her family.ˮ

“Thatʼs very nice of them,ˮ Penny remarked as she began serving plates of pasta and as Bradley got to work on slicing the roast chicken. “What were thet like, Lucy?ˮ

“Yeah,ˮ Lucy smiled fondly at her memory. “My family likes meeting new people. This is my grandmother’s lumpia recipe actually — in my family it’s traditionally served when meeting new people as a token of friendship.ˮ

“I like that,ˮ Amelia remarked as she began piling his plate with them. “They look like little welcome gifts.ˮ

“Hey, leave some for me,ˮ Bradley said to her.

“Youʼve had enough,ˮ Lucy laughed. “Leave some for Penny and Mav.ˮ

“I had to put them in the serving platter as fast as I could before he could eat them all,ˮ Lucy told them.

“I wrapped half of them!ˮ Bradley argued.

“And you nearly ate all that half!ˮ Lucy chuckled.

“Okay, okay,ˮ Bradley conceded as he held her hand.

“Never saw Bradley back down that fast,ˮ Penny grinned as her eyes quickly glanced at their conjoined hands. “So how did you two meet?ˮ

Bradley recollected the story of how they met at the docks of Umi, spent the day together with Sam and Phoenix, and their sunset stroll down the carnival pier. During all that, Lucy carefully gauged Pete’s reaction to the spring rolls. Did she add too much salt? Was the wrap to filling ratio just right? More importantly, was it just as he had remembered?

“What was that you told me, Angel?ˮ Bradley asked her. “ ‘If someone must have me, he must earn meʼ?ˮ

Lucy quickly returned to the conversation at hand.

“I thought that he was looking for something casual,ˮ Lucy told Penny. “And I just wanted to make my intentions clear.ˮ

“And when I dropped you off at your apartment, I asked you out and you still didnʼt believe me!ˮ Bradley reminisced.

“I still thought you were trying to get into bed with me!ˮ Lucy said. “You were pulling out all the stops!ˮ

“Looks like you damped your success rate with her,ˮ Amelia snorted.

“So what did made you go on that first date, Lucy?ˮ Penny asked her.

A beat.

Lucy shook her head, smiling at the memory of her and Bradley in front of her apartment gate, in the light of the setting Californian sun playing like a movie scene in her head — as if it was that long ago. They locked eyes.

“I told him that I only dated to marry — it was the last thing I could possibly say. He was very convincing....ˮ Lucy chuckled. “And what did you say back?ˮ

Bradley smirked.

“Is that suppose to scare me?ˮ

Penny turned to her daughter, who was silently engrossed with the entire ordeal.

“Amelia Benjamin,ˮ Penny told her quite firmly. “That is exactly how I want you to respond when boys are gonna ask you out in the near future, okay?ˮ

“Mom!ˮ Amelia gasped as Bradley and Lucy broke into fits of chuckles and giggles, amused by mother and daughter.

“I am just saying!ˮ Penny insisted exasperatedly. “If I done that when I was younger...it would have saved me a whole lotta time and heartbreak. So kudos to you, Lucy. Your mother taught you well.ˮ

“Well youʼre quiet Mav,ˮ Bradley noticed as he took a sip from his iced tea. “Those spring rolls that good?ˮ

“Theyʼre just as I remember them to be,ˮ Pete smiled, putting to bed Lucyʼs concerns. “Your grandmother... Mayumi— is she well?ˮ

“She has mild dementia now,ˮ Lucy replied, a little taken with how quickly he remembered her grandmotherʼs name. “Youʼll still enjoy your conversations with her — but the minute next, sheʼs doing something uninhibited.ˮ

“Oh?ˮ Pete remarked.

“Last year,ˮ Lucy said. “One of my cousins brought home her boyfriend and he was Japanese. You see, my grandmother lived through World War Two as a kid during the Japanese occupation. God — the moment she saw him, she got this shotgun that she kept under her bed (that we didnʼt know about) and chased him out of the house!ˮ

“Goodness!ˮ Penny gasped amusedly. “Is he okay?ˮ

“Yes, but he never came back.ˮ Lucy replied as Bradley barked a laughed.

“I remember Mayumi was always a little eccentric,ˮ Pete said. “But she was kind. Your grandfather was the scary one.ˮ

“I never really met him,ˮ Lucy told him. “He died of a heart attack when I was really young.ˮ

“Iʼm sorry to hear that,ˮ Pete replied. “...He was quite the gentlemen, and he only ever spoke when he needed to. I remember... that he was known for being a brilliant doctor — and he also was the only one at the island at the time.ˮ

“Really,ˮ Lucy remarked. “I didnʼt know that. My mom only really shares so much and my uncles never really talks about him.ˮ

“Your family is one of the close-knitted Iʼve seen, Lucy, but Iʼve learned that a lot of them liked to keep to themselves. Your grandfather was hard on all his children,ˮ Pete told her. “And although I saw that he always had a soft spot for Tala, I think he loved them all very much.ˮ

“Thank you for sharing that,ˮ Lucy smiled, keeping her spirits up. “I canʼt believe Iʼve learned more about my family from someone else than Iʼve had from them...ˮ

“Angel,ˮ Bradley drew circles at the back of her palm. “You know you can talk to me about your family, right?ˮ

“Of course I do,ˮ Lucy replied. “And I would love for you to meet them someday.ˮ

“Maybe even Mav can come along,ˮ Bradley suggested.

“How did you get to know Lucyʼs family so well, babe?ˮ Penny asked him.

“After my deployment at Atsugi, I took some downtime in the Philippines with Tala, some other nurses, and some other navy men too. ˮ Pete replied and then turned to Lucy. “Your mother, I believe, was working to get some experience in Japan before she planned to move here — and so she did, it seems. I spent some months in Palawan and I got to know your family there quite well — your six uncles, your grandfather, and your grandmother.”

“How did you meet her— my mom?ˮ Lucy spoke carefully.

“Well...ˮ Pete paused to remember — everything was coming back to him now. Her long raven hair, her tempting eyes, her singing lips and the smell of sweet white flowers. “I met her at Atsugi in this... this local bar over there and she was doing karaoke with some of her other nurse friends...ˮ

Pete could still recall even the faintest details of their first encounter. Swirls of smoke the air, pretty women in pretty clothes, Japanese pop music blared from the karaoke machine. Tala had her hair in an elegant low bun with strands that framed her face. She had on this, gorgeous silky dress that hugged her body just the right way and she was balancing both a bottle and smoke with an extender with one hand as she held the mike so naturally to her lips with the other. When she sang, people watched not only because she sounded so beautiful, but because she looked so effortless. Pete could even still remember their first conversation:

“Mind if I join you, gorgeous?ˮ

“That depends, can you sing?ˮ

“Canʼt I just listen?ˮ

“Absolutely not.ˮ

“So should I just humiliate myself for you, then?ˮ

“Just how willing are you to join me, sailor?ˮ

“...Does she still sing, your mother?ˮ Pete asked her — her exact replica.

“Y-Yeah, sometimes.ˮ Lucy answered quickly, before Penny had averted the conversation to Lucyʼs job as a marine biologist.

Pete stared at her the entire time as she animatedly discussed her job with Penny and Amelia, who also happened to be an aspiring marine biologist. Dinner at Pennyʼs was in full swing. Bradley brought up Ameliaʼs Walstead bowl on the desk in her room and well as Pennyʼs new plans of starting a garden — both of which Lucy knew a thing about. Though Lucy looked much like her mother, Pete observed that she didnʼt quite inherent her particularity for things or her chilly facade. Lucy was warm and made everyone she met feel like theyʼve known each other for quite a while. She wasnʼt quite like her. After nearly spending three hours just talking over dinner, it was now 9 PM and while Amelia lead Lucy to her room to show her Walstead bowl, Bradley, Mav, and Penny started cleaning.

“Hey Bradley,ˮ Penny told him briefly. “Iʼm gonna borrow your girlfriend for a bit before you leave. I want her opinion on that garden Iʼm starting.ˮ

“Sure,ˮ Bradley chuckled as he stood beside Pete, who was drying dishes as soon as Bradley rinsed them.

“I donʼt know how you pulled this one Bradley, but you better not screw up.ˮ Pete teased.

“God I really hope I donʼt Mav,ˮ Bradley sighed. “I really got lucky with her.ˮ

“As long as you remember that — especially when youʼre fighting,ˮ Pete smiled.

A beat.

“Hey Mav?ˮ Bradley drawled. “Can I ask you a question?ˮ

“Yeah.ˮ

“Be honest with me, okay? I promise I wonʼt tell Penny — but... Was Lucyʼs mom... An old flame of yours?ˮ

Pete placed a dish down on the rack and paused.

“Itʼs just that... the way you talked tonight about her and how you look at Lucy — just made me think... that you guys had something real special.ˮ

“Whenʼd you get all so smart?ˮ Pete grinned playfully.

“Cʼmon Mav...ˮ

A pause.

“I spent six months in Atsugi,ˮ Pete sighed. “And for four of them, I did date Tala... As soon as I wrapped up my deployment I went back to the Philippines with her for some months.ˮ

“What happened?ˮ Bradley whispered.

“We didnʼt end on bad terms, we... just had two different paths.ˮ

“Mav,ˮ Bradley huffed impatiently. “I know from my mom that you werenʼt the type to be hung over one girl when you broke hearts left and right.ˮ

“When I met Tala,ˮ Pete finally conceded and talked in a low voice. “Gooseʼs death was still over my head...ˮ

Bradley deflated slightly.

“I drank every night, I didnʼt have the best appetite, and I had... bad dreams. During that time, I felt like I didnʼt belong in the box anymore... so I wanted to hang it up. Tala healed me... She appreciated my ambition and saw the things I could still do — far before Iʼve realized that I can do them. She is… one of the reasons Iʼm still a pilot and why I still choose to be. Had she not insisted that I shouldnʼt stay with her, I wouldnʼt have been here with you.ˮ

“She mustʼve have been real stubborn if youʼre here,ˮ Bradley finally replied after a moment.

“Oh you have no idea,ˮ Pete laughed. “And you know what?ˮ

“What?ˮ

“I have a feeling Lucyʼs just the same,ˮ he grinned.

“Donʼt I already know?ˮ Bradley remarked. “Itʼs one of the things I fell for.ˮ

“Bradley Bradshaw, in love.ˮ Pete said aloud. “Now Iʼm really getting sentimental...ˮ

“And old...ˮ Bradley guffawed. “I thought you were gonna cry over that spring roll.ˮ

Pete smacked him over the head with the dish towel.

After bidding their goodbyes, Bradley drove himself and Lucy to her apartment. He turned off the ignition in front of her gate and held her hand.

“See?ˮ Bradley grinned. “You had nothing to worry about...ˮ

“Iʼm just so happy, Bradley...ˮ Lucy mirrored his smile. “Theyʼre wonderful people. Thank you for this...ˮ

Bradley cupped her cheek and pulled his lips against hers gently. She ran her hair through his honeyed locks, relishing the feeling, and when they could no longer breathe they pulled apart with pink-tinged faces. Lucy checked his dashboard. It was nearly midnight.

“Hey...ˮ she sighed. “Why donʼt you stay the night? You had a couple of beers with Mav, and I donʼt want you driving this late...ˮ

A wide, goofy grin stretched Bradleyʼs lips even further.

“Unless you—“

“Angel stop,ˮ he told her. “Iʼm just glad...ˮ

“Donʼt get any ideas, Lieutenant Bradshaw.ˮ

“Iʼm not!ˮ He insisted. “Iʼm just happy that youʼre comfortable enough to let me stay...ˮ

“Why wouldnʼt I be?ˮ Lucy crinkled her nose. “I only date gentlemen. As mischievous as they can be...ˮ

“Oh?ˮ Bradley smirked. “Who are these other gentlemen? I must meet them...ˮ

“Do you want to come in, or not?ˮ

Lucy waited tucked under the covers of her bed with a book, clad in some old gym shorts and a baggy sports shirt from a swim meet back in her teens. It was faded and distressed from over the years, but it was the most comfortable thing she owned. Her mind then drifted back to those years... to the rebellious, fiery, feminist, young girl she had been. Oh how she would chastise her older self over Bradley — she would have said that she had a promising career in something they loved and that she shouldn’t let any man get in her way. Lucy would bet she would shut up the minute she saw what she was seeing — the fine view of Bradley Bradshaw emerging from the steam of her bathroom, shirtless and wearing a pair of fresh boxers he had packed in a duffel bag at the back of his Bronco. Her cheeks burned pink at his broad, tanned chest and his lean stomach. He dried his moist locks in one of her cream-colored towels and grinned handsomely at the sight of her.

“Angel,ˮ Bradley spoke to her quietly, as he sat beside her on her mattress. “Are you sure this is okay? I can always sleep on the couch...ˮ

“I donʼt want you to sleep on the couch,ˮ she replied shyly, reaching for his big hand. “I want you to hold me, tonight.ˮ

Bradley kissed her fingers affectionately, heart warming at her loving gaze and tender touch.

“Okay,ˮ he smiled. “But I donʼt want you to feel like we have to do anything, alright?ˮ

Lucy nodded pulling the covers away on her right for him to tuck into. Bradley chuckled at her enthusiasm, positioning himself comfortably right beside her and opening an arm for her to tuck into. He propped the back of his head on his hand and used the other to embrace her. Lucy then turned off the bright lamp on her nightstand and turned on a little box-shaped nightlight on her beside table. It emitted a pale blue light, and because of the shape of its container, mimicked the fascinating scintillations of an underwater experience. When she finally settled into his embrace, Bradley pecked her forehead and she giggled.

“That is so cool,ˮ Bradley remarked at the light as he looked above her ceiling. “Whereʼd you get it?ˮ

“Itʼs a gift,ˮ Lucy replied, staring at the lights. “... Ford gave it to me.ˮ

“Heʼs a thoughtful guy,ˮ he hummed.

“When I was little,ˮ she smiled. “I wanted to be a mermaid. If you saw my side of the room, it was basically ocean-mania.ˮ

Bradley chuckled.

“Funnily enough,ˮ Lucy shared. “One of the options I kept open aside from marine biology was the Navy.ˮ

“Really?ˮ He quirked a brow.

“I liked the idea of traveling on the sea, and I admit... I thought I would meet some good-looking men.ˮ

“You would join the Navy for that?ˮ Bradley laughed.

“Iʼve seen your friends,ˮ Lucy retorted. “And youʼre a shining example of that.ˮ

“You find them attractive?ˮ

“I simply think that theyʼre good-looking,ˮ she hummed as she traced the lines across the expanse of his chest and the indents of his scars on his face. “You are the one I find attractive, and Iʼm truly fortunate...ˮ

“Youʼre lucky?ˮ Bradley smirked. “Iʼm the one with the young, gorgeous girlfriend. You got the old-timer...ˮ

“Well... I just happen to love vintage...ˮ Lucy replied impishly as Bradley chuckled.

They laid in silence, and it eventually lulled Lucy to sleep. Bradley could tell the exact moment when her body went limp and when each breath began to even with the rise and fall of her chest. He finally rested his head against her pillow. Her sheets and pillowcases were perfumed in a warm, honey, vanilla fragrance. He smiled at how her lips were opened partly, the way her eyelashes nearly grazed her cheeks, and how her hair cascaded down her chest. Her cold arms brought contrast to his warm embrace and soft sighs were slowly rocking him into his own slumber.

“Angel,ˮ he whispered softly, pressing a kiss on each of her moles — one at the edge of her lip and the other at the corner of her eye. “I love you...ˮ

Looks like dinner at Penny’s was a success! Lucy knowing who her real dad is at this point or her life must be pretty awkward… How do you think Pete will find out that Lucy is his daughter after all this time? Let’s keep this story going! Lots of fluff at 12 | Shark Week!

26 notes · View notes

lostfirefly · 2 months

Text

Well, I don't know why I came here tonight, I've got the feeling that something ain't right

Hey, hey, hey!! I haven't published anything for a long time. The stress of studying took all my energy. Welcome to another fun day for Catherine and Buggy! English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Masterlist is here

Description: Neighbor asks Catherine and Buggy to look after the kids at their birthday party while she goes to get the cake.

Warnings: Fun, fluff, jokes. A composite image of the kids at the party. Sorry in advance for the fact that children swear, but I just thought that they often repeat everything after adults. Small references to my followers.

Words: 5344

Buggy x OC from my “You’ve Got the Same Dream as Me” series.

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots, @hey-august, @yujo-nishimura, @emmiebugz-blog, @mydearlybeloathed

The title is taken from "Stuck in the middle with you" by Stealers Wheel.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“How long are we going to sit like this, cotton candy?” Buggy stroked Catherine's back as she curled up in his lap.

“It's only been fifteen minutes, stop nagging.” She took his ponytail and began to wind it around her finger. “You stayed late at the circus two nights in a row. I missed you. And now I want to spend some time with you in our chair.”

“It’s nonsense, Cathie-pie. We're doing nothing.”

“We’re enjoying each other's company. It's so great and romantic. We're resting, you're hugging me, I feel like I'm in the safest place in the world right now.” Catherine curled up even tighter and pulled the blanket over them. “Let's sit for a little while longer, please.”

Buggy rolled his eyes. “Fine. An hour, ok?” He hugged her tighter, kissed her forehead and quickly wiped the lipstick mark with his fingers. “Why do I always give in to you?” He noticed Catherine start laughing. “What's so funny, little shit?”

“Your nose. It's so funny, it bumps into my head, then my cheeks.” Catherine saw how sad Buggy became. “Oh, don't be upset, my silly clown. I love your nose. It also whistles funny sometimes at night. But I like it, it makes me feel like I'm home.”

“You like mocking me, right?”

“I'm not mocking you! Remember when I went to visit my sister recently? I missed your snoring and whistling, so I had to put a chicken whistle by my pillow and I hugged the teddy bear. It all reminded me of you and our home, my little bear.” Catherine exhaled and started running her fingers around Buggy's arm. “I want you to come to my parents’ house so much. I want to show you everything. My room, photo albums, my favorite places. I was sitting in a coffee shop and thinking how great it would be to sit here with you. Maybe you'll come to Loguetown with me sometime?”

“I don't know, Catherine. We’ll see, ok? Fuck, totally forgot I have something for you.” Buggy sent his hand to the night stand and pulled some box of candies out of the drawer for her. “Here, your favorite nougat ones.”

“Yesterday, you stole blue irises for me. Today you brought me sweets. You're so cute, my Buggy Bear. You bring me candies, flowers, you even started bringing me candles. Thanks!” She kissed him on the cheek and took a couple of candies. “Yummy. Oh! Can I ask you a question?”

“First, Cathie-pie, it's still a terrible nickname. Second, you talked me into staying in this chair and covered me with a blanket with little ponies on it. Me.” Buggy pointed his finger at himself. “A grown man. Do I have a choice to say no?”

“Asshole.” Catherine popped a candy into her mouth. “You know, we've been together for six months now, and I realized I don't know your middle name. Do you have a middle name? Let's say Buggy Eiichiro the Clown.”

“Oh, I know what name I could have.” He grinned. “Buggy “The Best Sex of Catherine Mitchell's Life” the Clown.” He started giggling and winked at her.

“I hate you. Why can't you answer like a normal person?” Catherine gently slapped him on the shoulder. “Now you're punished and I’ll ask another question. Have you ever dreamed of anything? Or maybe you have another dream now.”

“Why are you asking?”

“Everyone has dreams, Buggy.” Catherine ran her finger over his chest. “You talk not so much about your past, I'm wondering what you were like before you met me. So far I only know that you were in prison, hanging out with some kid and are worth a lot of money. But I still think you should cost more.”

“I didn't hang out with the kid! Well... I used to dream of you leaving my life, but as we can see,” Buggy smacked Catherine on the head, “that wasn't meant to happen, and now you piss me off every single day.”

“I'm serious, clown. I told you about mine yesterday.”

“You mean that dream where you wanted to be queen of the gummy worms?” Buggy laughed. “I can't stop imagining this picture. I'm sorry, baby, it doesn't count.”

“I was five years old, you idiot. What could I have dreamed of when I was five? Okay, if you don't want to tell me, don't tell me.” Catherine gently slapped her palms on his chest.

“Fine. Seriously though. Well,” Buggy scratched his head, “I dreamed of being the king of… all circuses. But I had to give up on that dream. I had and have no right to dream about that.”

“Are you sure you're talking about the circus? You have the right to dream, my blue-haired love.” Catherine looked at Buggy, saw that he didn't want to continue this topic, took his hand and started to run her fingers over his palm. “I don't know. It seems to me that you are already the king. Tickets are selling out fast. Your fangirls are sighing for you.”

“I don't have fangirls! Stop mocking me, little shit!”

“No, you have! I saw them. But I won't give you to them.” Catherine poked Buggy in the shoulder. “And I’m so proud of you. Can't wait to see the new show.” She exhaled and gently took the strand of his hair. “We're sitting so well, huh? Thank you for this, I know you don’t like, but I appreciate you suffering for me.” Catherine raised her head. “I love you so, so much, my Buggy Bear.” She gently pulled him by the ponytail closer and touched her lips to his.

(doorbell rings)

“Who is it? Are you waiting for someone?” Catherine raised an eyebrow.

“No. Fuck them! Let's not open the door.” Buggy tried to kiss her back.

(knock on the door)

“Wait!” Catherine gently pushed his head back. “Maybe it's Cabaji? He wanted to come in and ask about how to spend a perfect date with a girl.”

“Why can't he ask over the phone?” Buggy tried to kiss her neck. “Fuck him too.”

“Stop! He wanted to write everything down.” Catherine tried to fight back and slapped him on the back. “I want to help him. He's your friend.”

“He’ll do it later. We’re enjoying each other and to be honest, now I like sitting in the fucking chair.” Buggy tried to kiss her neck again.

“Oh, for Christ's sake, Buggy!” Catherine had a hard time pulling his head off. “Don't touch me with your painted lips. You already pestered me in the bathroom this morning and I said no. What's gotten into you?”

“You were so sexy in the bathroom in your pants with pandas, I couldn't resist.” Buggy took her hand and kissed it.

“I wasn't sexy, I was disheveled and was brushing my teeth.” Catherine grabbed his chin and pecked him on his nose. “Is there something else on your mind, clown?”

“Stop doing this, woman!” Buggy scrunched up his face and tried to move away from Catherine.

“I want and I kiss your nose!” She pecked him on his nose several times. “Love you, my old grumpy boy.”

“I’m not ol-!”

(doorbell rings)

“I'll go open it.” Catherine quickly got up from Buggy's lap, ran to the door, but stopped abruptly at the exit from the bedroom and turned to Buggy. “Oh, no! What if it's not Cabaji. What if it's some man who came to take me away from you.” Catherine winked and quickly ran out into the hallway.

“Hey!” Buggy rushed after her and caught up only at the front door.

Catherine laughed when he grabbed her hand and began to pull her towards him. “You're such a fool. Look at how you're clinging to me. My blue-haired protector.” She kissed him on the cheek and opened the door. “Mrs. Emmie? What happened?”

A short, middle-aged woman with dark hair stood on the threshold. “Hello, Mr. The Clown.” She waved her hand.

“Buggy, actually.” He rolled his eyes.

Mrs. Emmie blushed a little. “Sorry. Mister Buggy, Miss Catherine, I need your help. My grandson is here for his birthday party, his parents haven't arrived yet and I have to pick up his cake. Could you look after him and some of his friends while I go get the cake?”

“NO!” Buggy shouted loudly, not expecting such an intonation from himself.

“Please, Mr. The Clown!”

“It's Buggy, for god's sake!! I've been living here for two years!!”

“Sorry, Mr. The Clown! Well, I went around to all the neighbors. No one is here. Grandson's parents were stuck in traffic and would be here in about two hours. The kids' parents would be arriving, but they would also be arriving in about an hour. The table was already set, with cocktails for the kids and a bar for the adults. Please! I can pay!” Mrs. Emmie looked at Catherine with tear-stained eyes.

“How much?” Buggy crossed his arms.

“Excuse us for a second, Mrs. Emmie.” Catherine took his hand and led him aside. “Are you crazy asking about money, clown? She's asking for help!”

“Not help, cotton candy!” Buggy glanced at Mrs. Emmie. “She's asking to babysit. I'm not going to babysit for free.”

“Perfect!” Catherine fluttered her hands. “And if I asked you to babysit our child, would you ask me for money too?”

“Oh, no, in that case I'd charge you a different fee.” Buggy giggled idiotically.

“You're disgusting, you know that?” Catherine gently stroked his shoulder. “I know, you don't like kids. I'm not a fan of them either. But do you really want to leave me to be eaten by a bunch of children? I will never believe in my life that you would do this. You didn't leave me in that god’s cage.” Catherine hugged him around his waist, placing her chin on his chest. “Will my Buggy the Brave Knight save me again? And don't forget there's free food and free booze there. Then we'll come home, and I promise I won't even drag you out for a walk today. We'll stay home and eat chips and hot dogs like old people.”

“Fine.” Buggy groaned.

“You're my best!” Catherine kissed him on his cheek. “Love, love, love you!” She turned back to Mrs. Emmie, who looked at Catherine with hope in her eyes. “It's okay, we agree.”

“Thank you! Thank you!” Mrs. Emmie hugged Catherine. “You know, Mr. The Clown, even though you grumble all the time, you've become a little bit nicer since that sweet sweetie came into your house.”

“See? I’m sweet.” Catherine playfully poked Buggy in his chest. “And you're nice.”

Buggy rolled his eyes and growled, pushing Catherine towards the exit. “This means I'm changing, and you've come to love me differently.”

Mrs. Emmie led them into the back yard, explaining the rules and restrictions. Catherine memorized them attentively, jabbing Buggy with her elbow whenever he started to grumble. They walked out into the backyard, which was covered with colorful balloons and streamers that said Happy Birthday. Large tables were filled with baked goods, sandwiches, and sweets. The yard echoed with the sounds of children's laughter and whistles.

“Oh, that table over there is definitely for me!” Buggy nodded towards a closed bar with a bunch of drinks and started to walk towards it, but Catherine grabbed him by the pants as soon as he took two steps away from her. “Baby, if you want something from me, just ask.” He chuckled.

Mrs. Emmie and Catherine looked at him at the same time, puzzled. Buggy tensed slightly, looking at Catherine's “i’ll kill you” face.

Mrs. Emmie exhaled and shook her head. “Miles, honey!” She called out as they descended a couple of steps of the large wooden staircase below. “I’m going to get your cake. Miss Catherine and Mister Buggy are going to sit with you while I go away for a while. I’ll be back in an hour. Bye.” She grabbed the keys and quickly ran out of the house.

Catherine took Buggy's hand and led him towards the children. “Hey, guys!” She waved to them as she walked out into the backyard.

“WOOOAAAH!!!” A small, chubby boy with big cheeks, ginger hair and big dark eyes turned to face them. “Look! Guys!!” Miles poked his friends in the shoulder. “This's a real clown!!! Strange.. he's not wearing a costume, he's wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. Anyway!! RUN!!!”

Ten kids jumped up from the grass and ran towards Buggy.

“Hey, hey!!” Catherine stood in front of Buggy, spreading her arms. “Quiet, guys!”

“Can you do magic?” One kid was tugging at Buggy's pants.

“Is your nose buzzing?” The other kids tried to get past Catherine.

“Woohooo!!!” One of the children squealed. “Loook, guys!! I’m flying!!”

Catherine turned around to see Buggy picking the child up by the scruff of the neck and glaring at him. “Buggy! Put the kid down on the ground right now!” She hissed quietly through her teeth.

“He was tugging at my pants!” Buggy turned the child over in his hands. “I don't like it.”

“I don't care, put him down!”

Buggy rolled his eyes and set the child down.

“Alright, kiddos, everyone to the table.” Catherine nudged a few kids in the back. “Who wants cake?”

“Who needs cake when there's a clown here!!” Miles squeaked.

Several children tried to attack Buggy again, but Catherine grabbed him by the shirt. “Na-ah! No attacks on the clown until everyone's had their cake.” She bent down, placing her hands on her knees, and looked at the children. “So. Who wants cake now?”

“WE WANT CAKE!! WE WANT CAKE!!!” All the children, joyfully throwing up their hands, ran squealing to the table in all directions.

Catherine laughed and followed after them, making sure all the kids were seated. She turned away for just a second to pour everyone some juice when she heard a child squealing and an adult cursing.

“I can't sit still!!!” Miles' voice came from behind Catherine. “He's so cool!!!” Catherine turned to see several kids attacking Buggy, who tried to fight off a crowd of screaming children and cursing.

“What the fuck?” Buggy tried to throw the child who had jumped on his back.

“You're sooo funny!! Your nose looks soo real!” The kid started laughing and was about to grab Buggy's nose.

“Hey, get off him!” Catherine rushed to pull the kids off the suffering clown's body. “You okay?” She quickly examined Buggy's face and hands.

“Fuck, no! Catherine, let's go home. They're crazy!! Let them look after themselves!” Buggy tried to take the squealing kid off yourself.

“We can't. We promised to help. Look, they like you.” Catherine giggled as she lifted another child off Buggy. “Okay, Miles! Get off my boyfriend's back!”

“Is he your boyfriend? Wooooaaaah!! You're so lucky!!” Miles looked at Catherine with admiration. “You probably can watch tricks all the time. Is he showing you tricks?”

“Oh, yeah, believe, dude, I show her tricks.” Buggy giggled with a proud expression on his face. “You know, adult ones.”

“What? What do adult tricks mean?” Miles looked from Catherine to Buggy, waiting for an answer.

Buggy crossed his arms. “That means I can…”

“Shush!!” Catherine hissed and whispered under her breath. “Shut up and wipe that smug grin off your face,” Catherine took a small step toward Buggy. “Are you crazy, saying that in front of the kid?”

“What's wrong? He's…” Buggy looked at Miles, who was fiddling with his hand. “How old are you, bro?”

“I'm six!” Miles said proudly, with a slight lisp.

“See, Cathie-pie, he's six.”

“I don’t care. I'm not gonna ruin a little kid's life with your stories.” Catherine nudged Miles toward the table.

“Look, they are sitting, eating cake and don't bother anyone. Let's go home.” Buggy took Catherine's hand and dragged her to the door. “Nothing will happen to them.”

“I can't leave 10 children unattended, Buggy.” She pulled her hand away and glanced towards the children.

“Come on, cotton candy! Their parents are coming in... How long have we been here?” Buggy looked at his watch. “Ten minutes? Fuck!”

“Stop grumbling, clown! Oh, my God! See? One of the kids is eating dirt!” Catherine waved her hands and ran to another chubby kid with dark hair and big brown eyes. “Hey, you! The boy! Stop doing that!” She barely lifted him off the ground. “What's your name, baby?”

“I'm Howl!” The boy, covered in mud, answered with a proud look.

“And I'm Catherine.” She knelt down and started wiping the kid's hands. “Stop eating dirt, Howl.”

“This will make me cool!” Howl shoveled another handful of dirt down his throat.

“Cool guys don't eat that. They eat hot dogs. Do you want to be a cool boy and eat hot dogs, Howl?” Catherine stroked the boy's hair.

“Nope!” Howl grabbed the dirt in his hand and put it in his mouth.

“Dear lord!!” Catherine rolled her eyes. “Oh! I know! See that man over there?” Catherine nodded gently toward Buggy. “See? He’s strong and cool. And you know why? He likes hot dogs! Now do you want to be cool like him?” She saw Howl glance at the clown, then look at Catherine and nod. “Do you want me to get you a hot dog?”

Howl scowled. “Now I want to believe you. And as I started believing you, I want a hot dog!!” He jumped towards the table.

“Thank God!” Catherine stood up from her knees and saw Buggy walking towards her, sipping his beer. “Are you kidding me? While I'm trying to seat the kids, you’re enjoying a beer?” Catherine grabbed her head. “These kids are like ten of you, Buggy. They also sit quietly at first and then bam! They start whining and doing strange things.”

“But see? You're doing great. Maybe I should go home and support you from the couch?” Buggy shrugged and put the empty bottle on the nearest table.

“Oh, go wherever you want, Buggy.” Catherine waved at him. “I was hoping for once in my life you'd help me.”

“Sorry, Cathie-pie. I’d love to make things right but it’s time to exit stage left. Bye!”

“How-- How can you do this to me?” Catherine's eyes widened and she yelled after Buggy, who was walking away. “What? You didn't leave me in the desert, so now you're taking revenge, huh?” She watched how he waved to her. “Go f-- screw you, clown!!!”

“Excuse me, Miss Catherine!” Someone poked Catherine in the arm with his finger several times. “You're swearing!” Miles’ voice came from behind Catherine.

“And what?” She narrowed her eyes and looked at him.

“When my parents argue and use bad words, they put a dollar in the jar.” He pulled out a jar of money and shook it in front of Catherine's face. “Dollar, please.”

“What? I won't pay you!” Catherine squealed, her eyes wide.

“Then I'll tell my parents that you were swearing. Guys! Repeat after me! Screw you! Screw you!!” Miles and Howl began to jump around Catherine excitedly, repeating the phrase after her. Miles stopped and glanced at Catherine. “See, lady? You’ll have problems. Dollar.”

“Do you think you can scare me, little bastard? I jumped off a cliff and live with the clown!” Catherine shifted her gaze to the table and crossed her arms. “Let's do it like this! You sit down at the table, I'll let you have a baby cocktail and I'll tell you a funny story, what do you think the idea is?”

“I don't want the story! Let's do it this way. I'll keep quiet, and you call the clown. I want the clown! Where'd he go?” Miles started to fume.

“He better packs his bags right now to flee to another country away from my wrath.” Catherine muttered under her breath. “What should I do with you?” She scratched her head. “Oh! If you guys don't want a story, let's hit the piñata. There's probably candy in there. Do you guys like candy? You're kids! You should love them!” Catherine looked at them pleadingly in her eyes.

“WE WANT THE CLOWN!!!” All the kids stamped their feet.

“Mother fuc–!” Catherine suddenly covered her mouth with her hand.

“Dollar, please!” Miles picked up the can again.

“Screw you!” Catherine heard the phone ringing.

“Guuuuys!” Miles raised his hand. “Go!” He waved his hand, giving the command. “Mother fuc-! Mother fuc-!” The kids started kicking their feet and merrily repeating after Catherine.

“Screw you all!!” Catherine heard the phone ringing. “Shit! Everybody stay here!” Catherine pulled her cell phone out of her pants pocket. “Mrs. Emmie? What? Are you going to be late? And kids’ parents? Also? Yeah, sure, I'll keep an eye on them. Goodbye.” Catherine put her phone in her pocket. “Yeah, she's got traffic. I bet they're all sitting at the bar drinking aperol right now. Oh my god, the kids!” She watched them all scatter again. “Everybody should freeze now!!!” She barked loudly and abruptly covered her mouth with her hand again. “For god's sake, let's beat the piñata now, eat fries, and then you eat cake, and I'll show you tricks.”

“Hooray!!!!!” All children tore out of their seats and ran toward the big pig-shaped piñata.

They joyfully started pounding the toy until candy sprinkled out of it.

“MY SWEETS! MY SWEETS!!!!” The kids piled on top of each other and started raking up the candy.

“Stop!! What's wrong with you? Stop climbing on each other.” Catherine grabbed her head. “This is some kind of madhouse.” She muttered to herself and looked at her watch. “I've made it through almost an hour. There's still an hour left.”

“Miss Catherine, I didn't climb on anyone and behaved well. Can I have cake now?” A thin voice of a girl was heard. “I'm Hilda.”

“Oh, of course, dear Hilda.” Catherine stroked the girl's head and clapped her hands. “Everyone to the table! Let's have cake and fries!!”

“You promised us magic tricks, Miss Catherine!” Miles mumbled, eating candies and approaching the table.

“Yes, magic tricks! Let me juggle.” Catherine picked up three tangerines and tried to throw them up in the air to catch them, but they all fell to the ground. “Okay! That was a practice run. Let's try again!” She tossed the tangerines again, but they also fell to the ground.

“You're a bad juggler! Why are you ruining my party?” Miles began to sob.

“Oh, well, I'm sorry I'm such a fucking clumsy person, okay? I can't juggle!” Catherine angrily threw the balls on the ground.

Miles started whining and all the children began to repeat after him.

“Oh, stop crying! Bunch of..” Catherine rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault that your paren-”

“I’ll tell my mom that you spoiled my party, and you swore!” Miles wiped his nose. “I want to see you juggling!! YOU CANNOT JU-UGGLE!!”

“Because she doesn't know how to do it. Right, Miss Catherine?”

“THE CLOWN!!!” Miles, Howl and other seven kids, except for Hilda, jumped to their feet.

Catherine turned to where the children were pointing and saw Buggy gesturing to them to calm down. Catherine tried to hold back a smile, but she wasn't very good at it. “You're back!”

“Yes, and I hate myself for that.” Buggy shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets.

“I always knew you were a good person.” Catherine started stroking his hand.

“And for that, I hate you.” He shifted his gaze to the kids. “So. What's going on here?”

“They're crazy, Buggy. And that kid Miles. He’s a little evil. He tried to swindle money out of me. It feels like the only calm person here is that plump blonde girl named Hilda, and only because she eats all the time.” Catherine buried her head in Buggy's shoulder. “I wanna go home. But we need to entertain them somehow, because they'll continue squealing and destroying everything when they finish the cake, because they saw you. Buggy, please! Help me!” Catherine was practically breaking down into tears.

“How about I show them a couple of chop chop tricks?” Buggy placed his hand on her back. “They're kids, right? They love it when clowns do funny things. And by the way, not only kids love that.” He giggled again in a stupid way.

“Shut up, you pervert.” Catherine raised her eyes. “And no chop chop in front of these kids, please. I don't know who they are, or who their parents are. What if they come after you later? I don't want you to get hurt.”

Buggy snapped his fingers. “Are there any ribbons or scarves around here?”

“I saw some. Wait.” Catherine quickly ran to the table and came running back. “Here.” She held out several colorful chiffon scarves to him.

“Okay, kiddos. Who wants tricks?” Buggy tucked the handkerchiefs under his sleeve and headed toward the kids.

“WE WANT TRICKS!!!!” All ten little bodies stared at Buggy in admiration.

Questions were constantly heard from around the table. “Is your hair real? Or is it a wig?”, “And where did you buy such a natural nose? Does it honk?”. The children shouted their names randomly, trying to get Buggy's attention.

“Either you calm down now or no tricks!” Catherine barked, glared angrily at the children and plopped down on the chair. “I can't!” She drank the juice from the nearest glass in one gulp.

“Hey, Miles!” Buggy said quietly, adjusting his sleeves. “I heard it's your birthday.”

“Yeah! Yeah!” Miles started stamping his feet on the spot. “My birthday, my party!”

“And I also heard you were picking on that beautiful girl.” Buggy pointed at Catherine and clicked his tongue. “Not cool, bro.”

“Tattletale!!” Miles whispered to Catherine and showed his tongue. “I didn't mean to, Mister the Clown.” He pouted. “Sorry, miss.”

“I guess she's not mad at you anymore.” Buggy winked at Catherine. “And I also…. What's that?” He pointed somewhere behind the kids.

Everyone at the table, including Catherine, looked around.

“Where? I can't see anything!” She tried to figure out where he was pointing.

“TA-DA!” Buggy's voice was heard.

Catherine and all the kids turned around and saw him start to take out handkerchiefs from his sleeves. The children froze for a second and then suddenly burst into laughter, squeals and applause.

“Best trick ever!” Catherine started clapping. “You're the best clown I've ever seen in my life!”

Buggy began juggling tangerines, but he was also not very good at it. Then he started showing card tricks, he was a little better at this. The children squealed, shouted and stamped their feet at his every mistake, thinking it was part of the act.

“Now I'm going to ask my lovely assistant to help me.” Buggy held out his hand to Catherine.

“Who? Me?” She leaned closer to him. “Will you pick one of the children?”

“Nope.” Buggy winked at her. “Will my cotton candy help me?”

Catherine blushed, giggled and squealed quietly at the same time, and extended her hand to Buggy.

“Mister the Clown, can you make us a balloon dog? I'm Arthur, by the way.” A skinny, fair-haired boy covered in cake asked from the end of the table.

“Hello, Arthur!” Catherine said and bowed slightly. “Of course he will make an inflatable dog. Give us one minute!” She ran away for a second, picked up a sausage-shaped balloon and ran back. “Please, Mr. the Clown.” Catherine bowed like a true circus assistant, handing the balloon to Buggy.

“Cotton candy, I have no fucking idea how these dogs are made!” Buggy whispered quietly.

“Think of something. I don't think they care what the outcome is. I think they just like you.” Catherine glanced out of the corner of her eye at the excited children.

Buggy groaned and tried to bend one part of the balloon to make a tail, the other part of the balloon to make a head. He twisted something resembling a twisted sausage in his hands for a long time.

“Something like that.” He showed this balloon misunderstanding to the children.

18 eyes looked at Catherine and Buggy, with the exception of Hilda, only blinking back.

“What's going on? Why are they silent?!” Catherine looked from the children to Buggy and took a step back just in case.

“I don't know.” Buggy nudged Catherine behind him. “I don't like this. I don't like it even more that they're looking at us the way you look at me just before you start squealing and jumping on me.” He nudged her back another step.

At that very moment the children burst into squeals and jumped up from their seats, running towards Catherine and Buggy.

“Get back! Get back!” Buggy shouted at Catherine and took two big steps back.

“Hello, kids!” Mrs. Emmie's voice was heard and the children immediately ran to her. Several parents also came into the yard.

“Am I alive? Or were we trampled?!!!” Catherine was ready to cry with delight, hugging Buggy. “Are you ok–?”

“Miss Catherine! Mister Buggy! Hello! We are Miles' parents. Auggie and Trevor.” A short, stocky man with dark hair and grey-blue eyes, a tall, thin middle-aged woman with blue-black hair and blue eyes came closer to Catherine and Buggy. “Emmie said you helped us out. I hope the kids didn't torture you too much. Our son can be naughty sometimes.”

“Sometimes? Are you fucking kidding me?” Buggy barked. “Your kid–!”

Catherine kicked him in the leg. “It's okay, Miss Auggie. Miles's cute.” She giggled slightly.

“Let me thank you with a cocktail!” Auggie invited Buggy and Catherine to the bar, where she poured them each a Long Island. They were talking when Miles approached his parents and tugged at his mother's dress.

“Mom, where's my scooter? Daddy promised me a scooter!” He looked around.

“Honey, you don't need a scooter yet, we bought you a kick scooter.” Auggie patted Miles on the head.

“But I wanted a real scooter!” Miles stamped his foot.

“Hah, you don't always get what you want, kid. I dreamed of being queen of the worms, but you see, my dreams were never meant to come true.” Catherine took a swig of her drink.

“Screw you!” Miles stamped his foot and stuck out his tongue to Catherine.

“Miles! What kind of words were you saying?!” The boy's mom's eyes widened.

“She said that bad word!” Miles pointed at Catherine.

“What?!" Auggie looked at Catherine blinking. “Are you out of your mind?”

“It's time to go home, cotton candy!” Buggy threw Catherine over his shoulder and was about to run towards the door.

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” Catherine grabbed four bottles of different alcohol and managed to grab a tray of snacks. “We dese-e-eerve it!!” She screamed as Buggy raced towards the apartment with her.

Buggy reached the apartment in seconds and closed the door.

“Lock it all up! Lock it all up!” Catherine laughed, putting the bottles on the table. “God, I hope they don't get too mad at us.”

“Fuck them!” Buggy leaned his back against the door and looked at the large bottles of alcohol. “How did you even grab all that?”

Catherine shrugged, came closer and hugged him around the waist. “You hear that?” She chuckled. “Silence!” Catherine raised her head and looked at Buggy's tired and at the same shocked face. “Thank you! I couldn't have done it without you. You see, we have proven once again that we are a strong crew.” She kissed him on his nose. “And my silly clown..”

“I’m listening, my Cathie-pie.”

“Don't get me wrong, I love you.” Catherine started stroking his head. “But from today on, I won't let you touch me without… well.. you know. I'll tell you more, you'll put on every single.. well, you know.. in the box on your little Buggy.”

“Hey! He's not little!” Buggy kissed the top of Catherine’s head. “But for the first time in my life, I’m not gonna argue with you, cotton candy.”

18 notes · View notes

mitchelladkinsapologist · 7 months

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I know we don’t really see Mitchell much in the first book, I hope that changes moving forward, but it makes it so easy for us to forget what he’s going through. Everyone around him is worried about his relationship with Miss Perry, but he must’ve been so scared and confused too. He wasn’t trying to do anything wrong, he just wanted to be loved and to be told he was doing something right.

#books #home of the Brave 🏳️‍🌈#lgbt books #lgbtq community #Mitchell Adkins #August Navarro #Billie Adkins #Elizabeth perry #Sandy brave #Henry brave #Hayden Jones #Levi Huu #Raymond Howard #August X Mitchell #mitchgust?

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usafphantom2 · 1 month

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The North American B-25 Mitchell took its #firstflight on August 19, 1940. Here are three B-25s captured at #OSH24 by Al Sauer: Panchito, Devil Dog, and Miss Mitchell. Which is your favorite B-25 still flying?

@EAA via X

#b 25 mitchell #north american aviation #bomber #usaaf #aircraft #ww2 #aviation

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endless-ineffabilities · 2 months

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chemical override (6)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: I hope you all have found ways to cope after the breakup, but here all your questions will be answered on what went down pre-August! Special shoutout to @just-fics-station @thepurplecrown @clarkysblog @hotdismylife and @sprinklesprinkle888 for sharing your ideas and indulging me with the lovely, crazy discourse!

To everyone, I am so chuffed at how this has become OUR story - our lil self-indulgent Ewan Nation production. You all are aces <3

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

In the aftermath of the breakup, the reader and Ewan throw themselves into their work, trying (and failing) to avoid any trace of the other. Will they remain this way - former lovers doomed to drift in each other's orbit?

Some time before August

New York City

The lush office was laden with expensive wooden antiques, one side with built-in shelves displaying film awards and plaques of varying degrees of prestige. A full glass minibar occupied the other side.

The casting director introduced himself as Bruce, insisting that Ewan call him by his first name and not any of that "sir or similar stick-up-the-ass names". Ewan can see him as a mentor or maybe even a friend, Bruce insisted.

After all, they were going to help each other out a lot.

The discussion was straightforward enough, never mind the saccharine tone Bruce seemed to be so good at. Aimed at making Ewan feel welcome, coddling him, remarking with awe at his projects thus far. But there was a fakeness to it. Ewan steeled himself, trying to adapt to the style of conversation. After all, if he is in this for the long haul, then he would have to get used to these situations.

Bruce appraised him, leaning back on his leather swivel chair. "How are you with the fantasy genre? All that YA, lovesick stuff the kids eat up so eagerly nowadays? Personally, I haven't got the taste for it, but it always makes bank, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, well, I'm a fan of all movies. I definitely see why the fantasy genre has made such an impact on audiences, especially with the romance element, you know, I get the appeal."

"Well, son, we've got a solid franchise in our hands here. Some adaptation of an elf-human love story, mind you, it sound ridiculous, but you know how it is. And the team seems to be in agreement - you fit the bill for the male lead. The male elf lead - " he almost guffawed at the thought, then collected himself " - hope you don't mind my saying that you've got elvish features yourself. Long nose, long jaw, lanky. The teens are going to eat you up."

"Ah," Ewan smiled curtly, nodding. There was a backhanded compliment if he ever heard one. "Well, sir, I've read the script - at least, the bit that was sent to me - and it looks quite promising. I'd be honoured to - "

"Of course, of course!" Bruce exclaimed in pleasure, cutting Ewan off mid-sentence. "And there's the case of your leading lady, and this all boils down to chemistry as you know. Our top contender is that Jenna Ortega girl from the Netflix show, you know her?"

Ewan nodded, well aware. He's seen her work, and thinks that she is a top actress of her generation, but leave it to Bruce to reduce her to being that girl from the Netflix show.

"Yes, she's a very talented actress," Ewan replied.

Bruce hums in agreement, head bobbing as a smirk materialises on his face. "Think she's a looker?" he said openly, without shame.

Ewan laughed nervously, his words caught in his throat.

Bruce, characteriscally oblivious to the discomfort of others, carried on. "I only ask because we're going to need you two to be pretty chummy with each other when you jump on this project. It's kind of a condition of the whole thing, but really nothing to concern yourself with." He waved a hand in the air, his proposition barely carrying any weight in his mind. But Ewan was catching on, and he started to develop a dislike about the whole deal.

"What do you mean?" Ewan asked.

"It's pretty common in this business, son. There's a reason why young, new actors like yourself opt to remain unattached so to speak, so they're always open to a PR arrangement or, you know, just so their - your - hoards of fans would think they got a chance with you," Bruce explains lazily. "In this case, since you and Ortega are, as I said, unattached, getting you two together would fuckin' do wonders for our movie."

Our movie, he said, convinced that Ewan was all in, because why would any young actor refuse such a golden opportunity? Franchises like this can set up an entire mainstream Hollywood career.

Ewan thought that he wasn't unattached. Granted, his date with you was yet to happen, but he already felt bound to you. He wished you were the one tapped to be his love interest. Very little acting would be needed there. Maybe he might even be inclined to go along with the idea of selling the relationship, using it for publicity for the film, but even that made him uneasy.

The industry offered a lot of privileges, but more often than not, they come at a cost.

"Sir, I - "

"Bruce."

"Right, sorry. Bruce, I have to tell you that I'm not exactly unattached."

"Got a partner?"

Ewan actually found himself smiling at the thought of you being called his partner. His first easy smile since entering this office. "Yes, she's an actress herself," he agreed.

"I heard of her?" Bruce asked with obvious disinterest. You were but a wedge in his flawless plan.

"She's kind of a new talent like me, but she's brilliant. She plays Alyna Rivers in our show."

"Ah her," Bruce loosened up a little. "I get it, she's a piece."

Ewan cleared his throat loudly, his jaw clenching on instinct. "So, like I said, I'm with her. I'm sorry but this whole PR arrangement with Jenna wouldn't work."

"Look, kid, I want my movie to do well, alright? I got a lot invested here. This PR thing has proven to be highly bankable time and time again. If you don't trust me, I can ask the team to show you the data on all that. It's a lot of boring numbers, but shit, the numbers are never wrong."

"I don't need to see - "

"If you wanna be with your girl, you can, but you just gotta learn to hide it. Sweep it under the rug, you know. Don't canoodle in public, you crazy kids," Bruce offered, like that made things any better.

"You want me to hide my relationship?"

"Hey, now, come on. Word gets around. Isn't your girl also doing this exact same thing with Jacob Elordi?"

"Not anymore, I don't think," Ewan clarifies, "and that was... that was hardly anything. They weren't obligated to do it. It just worked by chance because they were both single for a time."

"Po-ta-to, po-tah-to." Bruce clicked his tongue before making his next point. "So you see how it works, your thing with Ortega won't be any different."

"Do I have a choice?" There it is, the defining factor.

Bruce smiled slowly. The calculating and menacing air about him intensified, and it was obvious he was not there to be Ewan's friend.

"It would be stupid to refuse something like this, kid."

Ewan's blue eyes flashed in return. None of this was ideal, but his nan raised him well, and he knew better than to falter on his values in times of trial.

"Sir, what's stupid is if you ask me to hide my real relationship for the sake of mere publicity for a film."

"Stupid you say?" Bruce sneered, having already discarded Ewan in his mind, his fragile ego bruised. "What a shame."

There wasn't much to say after that. Bruce was clearly not disinclined to reveal the ice that settled in his veins, and it dawned on Ewan that it had always been the case. There was no true hospitality here.

For bigwig casting director-slash-execs like Bruce, this was a transaction. And Ewan was not about to put what he has, or what he could have, with you on the line.

There has to be another way to advance his career. If not bigger productions, then at least those with less domineering producers.

"That is a shame," Ewan said, getting up from his seat. "I won't waste any more of your time, sir. Thank you for considering me."

Bruce's eyes darkened even further. "You're actually refusing me? For some girl?"

Another genuine smile formed on Ewan's face at the thought of you. Some girl.

But you're not just some girl. He nodded without a trace of doubt in his mind, before reaching out to shake Bruce's hand. "If you don't mind, sir... I have to go and see my darling."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Near the end of August

Los Angeles

The modern space sported a minimalist yet rustic feel, the interiors a blend of sterile white and sleek wooden surfaces. Very LA, as they say. The windowed walls offered plenty of light, as well as precious views of the valley below.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Donna," you greeted Ewan's publicist as she ushered you in her LA office.

"No problem at all, sweetheart," she said. "Please, have a seat. Would you like some coffee or tea? Ewan always has his coffee with way, way too much sugar. Mind you, if that kid wasn't active and boxing all the time, I'd be worried for his health."

You smiled fondly at her genuine concern. "Don't even mention the cigarettes."

"Oh, yeah," she scoffed, settling down on the chair across from you. She could have sat down at her desk, making the meeting more official, but Donna's always had a friendly and open way about her. "So, my sweet, how's your new movie coming up?"

You respond eagerly. The dialogue flowed freely, talking about your film and the lukewarm reception of season 2 of House of The Dragon. And finally, Ewan.

"I really thought he would get the Greta Gerwig film," you said. "Everyone said he was perfect for it. I think Greta herself had nothing but praises for him when they met on Zoom."

She sighed thoughtfully, "I thought so too. And, theoretically, he did have that one almost booked up. But there was an issue with one of the producers, which - I don't even want to get into that."

You shook your head, catching on whom she hinted at. "Donna, I heard... well, it didn't go too well in New York, didn't it? Ewan told me about it but... if you can tell me more, I just want to understand why - "

"Sweetheart," she offered a smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes, "you should talk about this with Ewan."

"I tried. But he wouldn't budge. Mallory told me... that it might have been because of me that he didn't get the role? And also why he's struggling to get roles now? Donna, I... I can't have that."

It took some time for her to formulate a response. She didn't want to step in something that's none of her business. Your relationship with Ewan is yours. But when his career is on the line, she supposed that she needed to have some say in that.

"He met with this top producer in New York. This real old money Hollywood guy. For decades, he's built careers for the greats, you know - Pitt, DiCaprio, Theron, and whatnot. There was a franchise project practically offered to him on a plate, but Ewan refused, because a non-negotiable was that he would have to hide you in favour of a PR arrangement with his leading lady."

You swallowed, the weight of the truth making itself clear. "Couldn't he have just done the movie without that?"

"You would think," she grimaced, "but some producers... when they want something, they have to get it. And well, Bruce wasn't lying, that would have sold the movie well."

"I thought we were past this," you expressed sadly. "I understand how PR relationships work. Just recently, I found myself kind of in the middle of one. But there was no pressure, it wasn't forced on us, and it was meant to be all in good fun."

"I know, sweetheart," she insisted, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "Bruce is an outlier now. Most of the time you do get lucky, with an all-around supportive production team, just like with your project with Elordi."

You hummed in agreement on that positive note, but your mind kept drifting back to Ewan.

Donna continued, wrapping up her story, "but Bruce is still here, and he still has a lot of power. But you know, it'll be fine. Ewan's got such a huge fanbase and so much talent that it'll only be a matter of time before something else knocks on his door."

You wanted to share her sense of optimism, but something ate at you. What else will Ewan have to sacrifice just to be with you? This was his dream, his one dream, and you were standing in the way. How much longer before he is offered another project but he refuses to take it for your sake? Your thoughts blurred together, bordering on irrational, but you couldn't help it.

All you could picture was the unabashed sincerity on his face, that sense of wonder, when he told you that acting had always been his dream.

Being tied down to you, this early in his career, would surely only hurt him. And you don't think you're worth it.

"Ewan loves you, sweetheart. Anyone with eyes can see that," Donna said after a while, heeding the storm brewing in your expression.

He loves you. It was true.

Less than a month in, and you've already found yourself with a love that you've never felt before. And perhaps never will again.

And that was the problem.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Late September

The podcast moderators are overly welcoming, if not a little loud for Ewan's taste.

The BBC podcast is called Loose Ends, and it's one of the first things Ewan agreed to take on upon returning to England.

He had wanted to head straight home to Derby, to bury himself in his heartache and bitterness, but the team for the show tapped him for a couple more promotional stints, riding on the high of the season finale. And who better than Ewan to offer to the media, the undeniable fan favourite.

Clad in an old gray shirt and blue jeans, people would think he just rolled right out of bed. He didn't really have the motivation to put in more effort. The only striking thing about him is his newly bleached head of hair, supervised by his stylist for a photoshoot a few days ago.

It was ironic, the timing of such a change. Ewan knew that if word got out that you dumped him, he would never hear the end of the joke of that being the reason for his hairstyle change, typical of all heartbroken sods.

Everyone bursts into laughter when he tells them about his mum's reaction to his nude scene. It feels like going through the motions, and he must have been so out of it, so forlorn, that his team prepared an outline for him prior to the interview. The questions and answers all pre-agreed.

Make them laugh. React as required. Remember to speak when spoken to. The mantra goes on in his head.

And don't think about her.

An impossible task, worsened when a moderator goes off script and asks, "Now it wasn't me who saw this, as I'm not on social media myself, but one of our interns did mention that you ventured into Instagram recently? Is that true?"

Oh fuck.

"Mmm, yeah, I guess," Ewan laughs nervously, his hand massaging the back of his neck in a self-soothing motion.

"And your first post went viral? What can you tell us about that? Our listeners would love to know."

"Uhhhm - " He remembers that the broadcast is live, and he can't exactly ask them to edit this part out, so he quickly settles for something indirect. Inconclusive. Safe. " - did it go viral? I'm not too sure how that thing works. I haven't used any kind of social media before."

"Apparently it did! And it had to do with the subject featured in that photo, Ewan. Your costar - "

"Mmm," Ewan stops him there, "didn't you say that you don't use Instagram?"

"No, I think I'm too old!" The moderator laughs.

"It's insane, that whole thing," Ewan shakes his head. "I don't know how to handle it. I'm logged off most of the time."

"Oh, you log off?"

"Yeah, yeah, helps me keep my focus, you know. Keep calm and all that."

"It can get frivolous, can't it?"

Ewan hums in agreement, and thankfully, the moderator moves on to his last question. One that does not breach the subject of you.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Another day means yet another media stint for Ewan, this time for Now TV.

Still in London, his stylist Davey and the rest of the team prepare him for a day of brief interview clips, to be posted on the social media pages of the company.

Davey had half-joked about Ewan needing even more concealer than usual, the shadows under his eyes having significantly deepened after the breakup.

Some of his team have gotten wind of what happened. They would curiously ask about you, how often Ewan keeps in touch with you while you're on set...

You must be on FaceTime everyday!

Is it hard to be doing long-distance so soon?

Do you miss her? Is that why you're not getting any rest?

...but Ewan would only laugh uncomfortably, dismiss it by bringing up another topic or shifting the attention to someone else, or excuse himself to go for a smoke.

He'd been drowning himself in cigarettes and caffeine during the day, pint after pint in the nighttime. Aimless.

He is coping. He knows how it must look, but he deserves this. He deserves to drift for a while. It's the only thing he can do to keep himself from jumping on the next flight to Atlanta and begging for your hand back.

You said you love him. You did. He hangs on to it like a beacon in a storm. No matter how pointless it may seem, with you choosing someone else over him.

Work is becoming something of an anchor, something that keeps him from spiralling. He's an actor, and he has always wanted to be an actor. People now have expectations of him, and he will answer the call.

The interview session begins with generic questioning, stuff he's answered before on several occasions.

How special is the bond between dragon and rider?

What is a funny moment from set that you can share?

How similar are Aemond and Daemon?

All safe. He's proud of himself for not breaking mental clarity thus far. You're in the back of his mind, dormant as a memory, and not something looming darkly over him. For a while, at least.

But then he is asked, If you could invite any 5 people to a Ewan Mitchell dinner party, who would you pick?

"Matthew McConaughey - "

You.

" - Bruce Lee. I think they could strike up an interesting conversation - "

Your name echoes in his mind, and he can't control it.

" - Andrea Riseborough. She's just a chameleon, like in any role she undertakes -

You have great taste. Even if you would make him eat spicy food again, he'll take it. He'll endure anything for you.

He's stumped for a second, lump in his throat, and his effort in avoiding you leads him to mention someone who will always be a comfort to him.

" - Maybe my nan, because I miss her -

Your name. He has to say your name. Who else? Think of someone else.. but who else? Who would be better?

" - and then, another person. Let's make it from the show... it would be Alyna Rivers."

"Oh really?" The interviewer asks. She's not really meant to respond in this instance, but she knows that the fans would go crazy about any mention of you or your character, so why not jump on this opportunity? "Can you tell us why you chose her?"

"Uhhm, well, she's just an amazing character, you know, fiercely loyal, beautiful, tenacious," Ewan replies easily, "so yeah, she would make for good company."

It is obvious that he is describing you just as much as he does Alyna Rivers, and no doubt, the fans will catch on to this detail.

Later, he's asked about his favourite part about season two, and he duly answers, "Seeing more of Aemond and Vhagar's bond and how that perhaps have gotten stronger. Aemond has definitely reined her in, after the accident at Storm's End."

Then, "There are some new additions to the show. Do you have a particular favourite?"

Another obvious piece of bait. And he takes it, he doesn't care anymore. What's the use of denying the truth?

"A favourite new character? Oh, well, uhmm... I really do like Alyna, and I think I've said before that Aemond and her are quite similar in a sense that they both know what they want and how to achieve it. It's just a shame they're on opposing sides, because if those two get together... " he trails off, leaving it up to the audiences to fill in the rest of the thought.

And they eagerly do. The clips where Ewan mentions Alyna get the most traction, flooded with comments that more or less talk of the same thing -

We know why you chose Alyna, Ewan. We know your ways.

He could have said Alys. Or Gwayne. Or even the ghost of Daeron ffs. But nooooo.... it's Alyna Alyna Alyna 😮‍💨

I wonder if she's there behind the scenes

yeah shes definitely lurking in the background!

Aemond and Alyna better have at least a scene together in season 3!!!!!

Someone kidnap Ryan Condal and make him write this

Ewan doesn't see any of it. Not that he's missing out, because he soon feels the need to call his younger cousin to ask her how to turn off his notifications on Instagram.

Day in and day out, his one single post gets dozens of new comments and likes, a brutal reminder of what he's lost. He could just delete it, and get rid of his profile entirely, but he hates to imagine the discourse that would follow.

All the invasive allegations and rumours. So he leaves it be. It makes no difference to him now. Let people believe what they want.

To his chagrin, he finds himself scrolling on his home page once in a while. The addictive element to it was true, and for him, it's exacerbated because the things he sees are often related to you.

Photos of you from fanpages and news accounts. Ones where your friends have tagged you. It's a toxic habit, looking through it all, but he can't help himself.

Then one day, as he's slouched on the seat in his London apartment, phone propped on his knees, he sees a cutout photo of his face on the corner of the screen. He clicks on it, and it's an image of him interposed among different posts. Posts which he apparently liked.

"Oh for fuck's sake," he cusses at himself, reading the caption.

Boyfriend lurking? - Ewan Mitchell may play a formidable TV villain, but in real life, he's just like us. Click on the link in bio to see his series of liked posts!

Dread takes root in him, followed by self-loathing. Why couldn't he just keep off this bloody thing? He takes to the comments to see what he has allegedly liked on accident and it's predictably photos of you - you at a premiere, stills of you as Alyna, and even, heavens fucking forbid, a behind the scenes shot of you getting pretty close with Jacob Elordi on the set of your film.

He vividly remembers seeing that last one, because he went on a bender after coming across it.

Cursing himself and his wayward, sticky fingers, he exits the app and deletes it from his phone.

Whatever goes on there, whatever people might leave on his profile, he washes his hands of it.

He calls up several of his mates, asking them if they want to come over for a few drinks.

"Again, Ewan?" one of them exclaims. "C'mon, you gotta take a breather, mate."

"I don't need a breather." I need her.

"Ewan - "

His composure breaks, all his damned frustrations rising to the surface, and he confesses, "I wonder if she thinks about me."

"Hang in there, mate. We're coming over."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

October

The director finally yells a satisfied, "Cut!"

It's only taken a good twenty-something takes for you and Jacob to nail a challenging scene. You had been on a roll since the beginning of the shoot, the last few weeks seemingly a breeze on paper, though it's a constant struggle to keep it together.

You've had to quell your internal dialogue so it does not stray to him. His smile. The feel of his skin against yours. His way of subtly picking up on details, and doing sweet things that surprise you as a result.

But you received word just before the scene that a few of your friends have come to visit, waiting back at your trailer - Phia, Fabien and his girlfriend, Bella.

And so, as if on instinct, Ewan is all you can focus on, every repressed memory of him rushing in like a tidal wave.

Do they know? What could you possibly say to justify what you did? You can only hope he took on that project, to give you a bitter sense of vindication.

It's the only thing that keeps it all the bay, the only thing that keeps you from jumping on the next flight to England and grovelling at his door.

Phia has her arms wrapped around you the moment you open the door to your trailer, loudly squealing, "I missed you!"

You sink into the hug, comforted by her presence.

As well as the fact that she represents some connection to Ewan.

Phia, Helaena. Helaena, Aemond. Aemond, Ewan.

It's a sick game to play, but it's what you have.

"Hey, yous," you hug Fabien and Bella in turn. Not long after, you're all lounging on director's chairs right outside your trailer, enjoying a bit of sun.

"How's our big Hollywood star?" Phia quips, her lips curling in her trademark pleasant upturn.

"Hardly a star," you shake your head fondly. "More of an indie darling."

"Of course, of course," she relents, before going on a monologue about how she's been keeping tabs on your project, how she just adores the costume designer whom she spoke to at length while you were working, and how the rest of the cast is rooting for you.

The rest of the cast.

"Ah, are they?" you ask, making a conscious effort to not simply blurt out his name. What does he think? Has he mentioned you at all?

Do they know?

Do they secretly hate you for what you did?

"Mhmm, right Fabs?" she says.

"Oh, definitely." Fabien agrees right away.

"How's your film? Are you done shooting in Philly?" you ask him.

"Just about done, but I think we're doing some final reshoots next week. I'm just glad my girl's here to visit," he slings an arm around Bella, who smiles and leans closer to him.

You smile at the sight, but it visibly falters. Ewan could be visiting you on set right now, just like Bella with Fabien, if you hadn't fucked it all up.

They notice.

"Love," Phia sighs, her tone softening. "I just want you know - we want you know - we're here for you, okay? No matter what you went through with... " A pause. Like saying his name would open up the floodgates.

Your gaze falls to your lap in shame. You pick on invisible lint on your trousers. Bite your lip. Breathe deeply.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

"So you guys know, huh?"

"Well, more or less," Phia says. "I just spoke with... Ewan... recently. He's back in Derby for the time being, and he's - "

"He's a bit rough," Fabien says firmly. He's not taking sides here, but he's heard from Ewan, and he feels the need to have his mate's back. "Look, I don't want to pry, but what happened? It seemed like you guys were doing so well together!"

"You don't have to tell us," Phia adds, shooting Fabien a look. "But if you want to, we're here to listen. We love you both and we just want to help, love."

You feel your eyes welling up. Leave it to Phia to be oh so sweet. You can't lie to them, you don't want to. Even if you did, they would see right through it.

Your friends know you too well.

"I... I miss him."

Phia squeezes your hand, and the whole story is about to spill out of you when you hear your name being called.

It's your assistant Clara, letting you know you're needed back on set.

You swallow back tears, standing on your feet, trying to maintain enough composure so you can grant yourself access back to your character.

"Go do your thing, superstar," Phia smiles comfortingly. "We'll be here when you're ready."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

November

"I'd like to propose a toast," Tom declares out loud in the empty pub, "to Ewan, Hollywood's new elf... Lord? Prince? Ah sod it, cheers!"

Round the table, Ewan, Fabien, Luke and Elliott all raise their pints with a collective, "Hear, hear!"

The pub has been cleared out for the lads, thanks to a favour called in by the twins, with the owner being their gym buddy and good friend.

"Thank you," Ewan replies, smirking. "I am your new elf prince, address me as such."

"Your ears have never been pointier, mate," Luke quips.

After a month of moping back home in Derby, or recovering as Ewan prefers to put it, he got a call from his manager telling him that the offer from Bruce still stands.

Apparently, the production team for the movie still had him tapped as the prime choice for the lead. After observing his audience metrics and overall viability, they decided that the movie would fare the best with him in it.

They had planted some half-baked announcements in the media, stating that it was Ewan against Joseph Quinn and Manny Jacinto for the role, and the fan reaction veered in Ewan's favour by a landslide.

Even though Bruce had an unsavoury word or two to say about him, he was willing to work past it, so long as Ewan would be more amenable to his demands.

After careful deliberation, Ewan chose to throw caution to the wind, and accept the role. So what if he has to pretend to have a real-life romance with Jenna? This is what you wanted.

"I'm glad you finally came out to see us, mate," Fabien says. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, fuck's sake. Remind us never to break your heart! That was tough to witness, you hunkerin' down out there all mopey and whatnot," Elliott laughs.

"Mmm." Ewan takes a swig of his beer to hide the wince he couldn't hold back. His friends, and most of the cast know by now, not in too much detail, of what went down between the two of you.

A typical short-lived romance of two actors. A summer fling. Most of them would look back and only see it as that.

Even though it was so much more. Even though Ewan still recalls how warm and soft and beautiful you felt as you whimpered underneath him, the loss of you as painful as getting hit by a freight train.

The liquor helps. Burying himself in work helps. Denial... well, that certainly helps the most.

When he goes out to the back garden for a smoke break with Fabien, he tricks himself into believing it's mere curiosity that compels him to say, "Phia mentioned that you guys went to Atlanta."

Fabien is rendered off guard, because he knows what's coming. "Yeah, we did. Bella came with us too. She was visiting me on set," he says, measuredly.

"Mmm." A long drag, a flick of ash towards the ground, an unaffected shrug - and eventually, with as impassive of a tone as he can muster, Ewan asks, "So how is she?"

Fabien smiles knowingly. "She's doing great. Her film's looking pretty good." He's privy to the truth, after he and Phia managed to gently coax it out of you over several martinis at a hotel bar in Atlanta. But he doesn't think it up to him to reveal that to Ewan, out of respect for your privacy.

While he might not share your sentiment, he thinks it's not in his place to tell Ewan that you basically lied for his sake.

But that doesn't mean he won't drop a helpful nugget or two.

"You know, I don't exactly know what's going on... but her and Jacob came across as nothing more than friends."

Ewan's hand freezes mid-air, the cigarette inches from his lips. He loathes the sense of hope that immediately bloomed in his chest. He's so bloody easy. One miniscule hint, and his delusions break through the wall of indifference he worked so hard to build.

"She said she has feelings for him," Ewan stresses, trying to convince himself. What was the fucking point of all this... this pain... if you never did?

"Hey, mate, I dunno," Fabien puts his hands up, "just telling you what I saw."

"It doesn't matter." It does. "She ended it." He wants you back, he will always want you back. "It's better this way."

"Is it?"

Ewan doesn't answer. He doesn't know how to, without grossly embellishing the truth.

Fabien watches his friend, sensing his hesitation as he averts his gaze. One thing becomes clear to him - you and Ewan are far from being over.

So he says, "She misses you, you know."

Ewan regards him with a stony look, one that slowly softens to reveal the broken boy inside. For but a moment, before he clears his throat and throws the butt of his cigarette on the ground.

"Let's head back inside."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

December

You're back in London, as production for your film is paused for the upcoming holiday season.

Work is supposed to be the last thing on your mind, but it just so happens that your manager has you booked for a chemistry read for a yet undisclosed film.

Phia came over to your apartment, insisting that she help you get ready. When you asked how she found out about your audition, she was quick to say that she was up for the role as well but didn't think it was right for her.

"Why not?" you ask, as she hovers over you, patting blush on the apples of your cheeks.

"Oh, you just get a feel for these things."

"Phi, it's just a chemistry read," you say, when she reaches for the mascara. "I don't need to get all dolled up for this."

She gasps, "Oh, but this is showbiz, darling. We always have to put a face on."

"Fine," you relent. "Do your worst."

The makeup she ends up doing on you is minimal, but it enhances your features just the right amount. You rush through your final preparations, folding up the script sample you were given and stuffing it in your purse.

Phia stands out on your balcony, in the middle of a call. The window screen is slightly open, so you hear snippets of the conversation as you walk by.

"Is he ready?" she asks. Who's he? You assume it's the guy you are doing the read with.

You don't know about him, but you are ready, so you stick your head out to say, "I gotta go, Phi."

"Oh!" She startles a little, angling her phone away. "Already?"

"Yeah, the read's at 4, I believe. Just lock the door when you leave, 'kay?"

She hurriedly whispers something to her phone, presumably ending her call. "I'll actually head out with you," she grins. "My work here is done anyway."

"Any plans for the night?"

She shrugs, "Might meet with Tom and Martha."

"Oh, why don't I meet you guys after my thing?"

"Uhhhm," she chews on her lip, thinking. Under her breath, you barely hear her mumble, "... hoping you'd be busy."

"What?" A restrained chuckle escapes you, confused as to why she's being so coy.

"Nothing," she tilts her head. "We can meet if you'd like."

The weird exchange is out of your mind when you arrive at the casting agency. You run the scene through in your head as you walk in the building, up the elevator, down the long hallway.

It's a heartfelt scene, if not a little tense, a dialogue between reunited ex-lovers.

Your manager Polina and publicist Mallory greet you at the doors, swiftly briefing you before directing you in.

"They're waiting, just walk right in, doll," Polina says.

"Okay, wish me luck!" You have your hand on the door handle when Mallory strangely remarks, "Don't hate us, sweetheart!"

"Why would I - "

"Go, go," Polina guides you in, then shuts the door behind you.

The office sports an spacious and open layout, with plenty of natural light streaming through large windows. The primary workstation is partially hidden behind a subtle partition. You see silhouettes of a few people behind it, so you walk down that way.

The figures reveal themselves soon enough - the casting agents you recognise as Patrick and Amie, sitting in front of the actor you're meant to read with.

A range of emotion washes over you, but you don't even have time to reckon with them. The casting agents divert your attention from Ewan, as they approach you with wide smiles in greeting.

"So nice to finally meet you!" Amie croons. "Take a seat. You two already know each other, of course. Between us, there won't really be a question of chemistry here."

"Right?" Patrick adds, looking between you and Ewan. "The fans sure think so, and we have to say we already agree."

"So just give us a minute to set up," Amie says. "Then we'll start."

You smile stiffly, settling down on the opposite end of the couch. You keep your gaze straight, trying to keep your attention on Patrick as he sets up the camera. Your heartbeat races the entire time, and you feel your hands getting clammy.

"They're all in on it," you hear Ewan say, prompting you to finally look at him directly. You take him in hungrily, admiring his outline, ever so handsome with his Targaryen-blonde hair and black leather jacket.

A weak "Mmm?" is all you can muster.

"Our teams, Tom, Phia... they set us up. Tom came over and I overheard him on the phone with Phia."

"Oh," you mumble. He doesn't even spare you a glance, leaning on the armrest on his side of the couch. He looks as if he'd rather be anywhere but here, next to you, and it hurts.

It's what you deserve.

"Is this not a real chemistry read?" you ask meekly.

"I suppose it is," he laughs humourlessly, "but it's not a coincidence that you and I just happen to be the only ones scheduled for today." He turns to you, giving you a critical sideways glance. "Didn't see that coming, did you?"

"I... I can leave if you want - "

"Mmm," his brows furrow, "you do seem to be good at that."

You look away. He is not being fair, but you weren't neither, that wretched night back in September.

And he is making you pay for it now.

But then you hear him speak in a softer tone, "Stay."

Stay. When you look at him once more, his attention is entirely on you, arm outstretched on the couch like he just tried to reach for you but decided against it.

Stay, he asked. So you do.

It's what you should have done, months ago.

"Okay, guys. Whenever you're ready," Amie says. She and Patrick take their seats in front of you, with the camera on a stand between them.

The script crinkles on your lap as you hold it with shaky fingers. "It's been a while," you read out your opening line.

The dialogue plays out twisted and ironic, now that you know who your scene partner is.

"Hardly," Ewan responds in character. "I feel like no time as passed."

"Feels like a lifetime."

He pauses, then sighs, "Do you even miss me?"

"How... how can you even ask me that?"

"How can I - "

"Why didn't you... why didn't you fight for me?" your voice breaks, the lines hitting a bit too close to home.

"You're a fucking hypocrite," he spits with venom. "You weren't exactly giving me anything to fight for."

"I did it for us. I did it all for us." If you didn't feel like crying at the weight of the scene, you would have rolled your eyes at the similarities.

"Like I said - nothing to fight for."

"Nothing? So you're telling me I was nothing to you."

"No," he levels you with an icy look, "you were everything to me. Everything. But you left me behind, and for what? So you can run off with the rebel sect?"

"The mission needed me. You wouldn't understand." You feel a sense of relief when the sci-fi elements roll in, otherwise you might have given in to your emotions and sobbed right there on the damn couch.

"I needed you," Ewan says, eyes not leaving yours. "I needed you and you abandoned me, just like that."

"And are you not better for it? When I left, did they not make you General?"

"See, that is the difference between you and I," he says coldly. "I wouldn't have traded what we had for anything - no position, no amount of wealth, no glory... I would have chosen us every time."

"Aaand cut!" Patrick jokes, effectively breaking the tension.

The two of you have unconsciously drifted closer, now only a foot part. Ewan does not drop your gaze, watching you closely. You see his eyes flit down to your parted lips, and he leans in almost imperceptibly.

"Alright, how about we go one more time?" Amie says, diverting your attention. "Give us a different take, and then that's it!"

Ewan settles back on his end of the couch. When he reads his lines again, his tone is harsher and he no longer meets your eyes.

Patrick and Amie commend you both afterward, singing praises about your acting abilities. Ewan is polite as always, blushing and grateful, but he practically dashes out of the door when the meeting finishes.

You're left standing with Amie, as Patrick has taken to his laptop to file the footage.

"The way he looks at you," she sighs dreamily, referring to Ewan. "You'd think the sun shone out your arse, doll."

"He... he was just in character," you disagree. "He's a good actor, as you know."

"Yeah, I mean, he nailed the part's rancour perfectly. But his eyes - oof - you've got a good one there."

Oh. Of course they would still assume you and him are together.

How desperately you want it to be true.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

An hour later, you've just sent Phia a text saying - You owe me. Where do I meet you guys?

But you hear a knock on your apartment door. If you didn't buzz anyone in, it can only be a neighbour or someone the doorman recognised.

Someone familiar to you.

And it's him.

"Ewan?"

"I need to speak with you."

You step aside so he doesn't linger at your doorway. He walks past you, a welcome if not unexpected presence in the room.

You can't decipher his expression, his gaze angled downward as he leans against your kitchen counter.

When the silence becomes almost deafening, you laugh awkwardly, about to make some silly remark on whether he is still in character. But he doesn't let you diffuse the tension.

"I want you," he blurts out without warning. "God help me, I still want you. I think I might have a fucking problem because how can I... after what you did - " A momentary glance of betrayal, but you see the spite clear in his eyes. " - but I do. I can't get you out of my system."

"I'm sorry - "

"I don't need that," he says sharply. "I don't need your sorry. I need you. I need to have you, and maybe this way, I'll satisfy whatever pointless desire I still have in me."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying - I'm asking - will you let me have you?"

"Ewan, I don't under - "

"I'm saying that we should sleep together," he says bluntly, and it feels like the rug has been pulled from under your feet, "but only just. You won't be mine, and I won't be yours."

"You're kidding."

He shakes his head, before adding, "Don't worry. It'll be our little secret. To the rest of the world, I'll have a different girlfriend anyway."

His words register, along with the bitter ache at his words, that you won't be his, he won't be yours. This is purely for pleasure. There used to be love here, and now he just craves the comfort your body allows.

You'll be using each other.

You should refuse. This is not healthy; this is not how you move on. Can you even go back to being good friends after this? But also - what have you got to lose?

What, except for him, and for good this time?

What, except everything?

"So what do you say - " He closes in on you, and with every bit of malice intended, the name no longer possessing the sweetness it once held, he sneers, "- darling?"

💌 next chapter

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @onlyrealjoy (continued ... )

Some notes in the margins...

Well well well... the transition from friends to lovers to strangers to angsty FWBs sure is a slippery slope!

The time jumps are so we get through the moping quicker! It's mostly back to the regular shenanigans in the next part. Only, you know, angst-ridden. But you hurt Ewan, reader. *wags finger* Don't say you didn't expect this switch! Tsktsk

So what now - will you accept this arrangement? Will things ever be truly okay? Part 7 is going to be hot and hilarious and stupid and messy, just as the doctor ordered.

Let's hash it out in the comments, shall we? 🗡💕

#ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell imagine #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #chemical override #hotd #aemond targaryen x reader

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