#Reuben fitch x reader

[dearsnow]

“I beg you, don’t embarrass me, motherfucker” but it’s you pointing menacingly at your top gun fav after the people in your life told you not to marry into the navy

[translatemunson]

save the date

top gun pilots x female!reader blurb cw: mentions of a dress. i believe this can be read as any of the daggers, minus nat (i'm writing something special just for our girl); lmk if i forgot anything.

You’ve gotten the ‘save the date’ months ago. The invitation only came through the mail a few weeks back, but it was 100% set in stone: you were attending your best friend’s wedding with your aviator boyfriend as your plus one. What you forgot to take into consideration was deployment.

It was like playing in a casino: you could get lucky and he wouldn’t be called for a mission until the wedding, or he would be god knows where doing whatever mission the Navy had for him, and you’d be missing him during the wedding.

And since you were never the luckiest person in the room, he got deployed. For six weeks. One month before the wedding date. Good luck telling all your friends you didn’t get dumped, it was just that your boyfriend was government property and they needed him overseas doing some good for the country. It was honorable, but still: you wanted to walk around the venue with a pretty aviator by your side.

It didn’t help that his internet access was limited, nor that you were having second thoughts about attending. Well, if not having someone with you was a problem, he told you he could get one of his friends to take care of you — just so other guys wouldn’t take a chance on his hot girlfriend. But it wasn’t just the lack of your boyfriend that was undermining your presence at the wedding.

One week the dress wasn’t good enough. The next one, just before his deployment, you weren’t sure about the tickets and hotel you booked — he said to keep them, even if he wasn’t going anymore, because you could use the extra space on the plane and the bigger bed. Your first email to him, while deployed, was about how nerve wrecked you were feeling now that your bestie asked you to do a speech. A few days later, you went through it with him, and he reassured you were doing amazing. 

“Gosh, this would be so much easier if you were here,” you admitted on your phone call.

“I know, baby. I promise to take you to a fancy event as soon as I’m back so I can have the chance to see you in that pretty dress.” He was trying his best to cheer you up.

But a phone call across the ocean wasn’t enough. You needed him there, with you, saying you look pretty even though your make up is nowhere near as done. Or telling you look like those old Hollywood stars when your hair was still on the hair curlers. Or saying you need to hurry up before it’s too late to get a nice parking spot at the venue. Or checking if you need a drink or something else during the reception.

You looked down at your phone, hitting “send” on another email, with pictures you took from the party. The whole place is covered with flowers and fairy lights hanging from the trees and ceiling, and you miss him so much it hurts more than your high heels.

You gave your speech minutes ago, and had one of your friends filming it for you. It was a nice piece about your best friend, how she was always the one saying you were gonna be married first but hey, look at you, alone at her wedding. Of course you made fun of the lack of a plus one, but it was fine. You brought back a few embarrassing memories, also spilled some tea on the fact that she had a list with the names for all of their babies. And if one of those names was not inspired by yours, you would be seeing her in court.

“Hey, do you wanna grab another drink with me?” Your friend nudged your arm. “I hate seeing you down.”

“Can you call the Navy and file an official complaint for me? I’ll give you his full name and call sign, so then later I can show up to the courtroom and use those as proof.” You threw your cell phone inside your bag. “Sorry, I’ve been under the weather since the news broke.”

“I know, babe, and I don’t blame you.” She gave you a soft smile. “I think a drink might help you. And maybe I can convince that waiter I’ve told you about to sneak a few sweets for us.”

“Just one more drink, then I’m going back to the hotel.”

“You’re no fun, you know? Maybe something good is happening tonight.”

“Unless you have a teletransportation machine here somewhere to bring me my boyfriend, you can’t trap me for another hour with the promise of good booze alone.”

At the bar, you got yourself your favorite drink. It would be better if he was there, his hand on your waist, making comments about the party or asking you the little details about the people there. It would be his first time in your hometown, getting to know the place you were born and raised. You loved San Diego, but a piece of you would always love your hometown.

“I just wished they had decent Wi-Fi at the ship,” you murmured. “I’ve sent like a hundred pics since I’ve arrived, but still no reply. I can’t believe my own boyfriend is going MIA on me.”

“Hey, maybe it’s just bad connection. And based on what you’ve told me, I bet he’s pissed he’s somewhere in the ocean instead of by the side of his gorgeous girlfriend.”

“Please plan a wedding in the next few weeks so I can attend one with him.”

“Why don’t you plan your own wedding?” She turned the idea around.

“And throw a surprise wedding? I’m crazy, but even I have limits.”

“Well, I hope it doesn’t take him too many deployments to pop the big question.”

“I might have to ask him to divorce the Navy before we can get married. Sorry, but I won’t be the mistress in this,” you laughed.

Halfway through your drink, your friend ended up going to talk to one of your colleagues from high school, and you went back to your table, staying up and trying to swing your body in the rhythm of the song — just to get your mind off of things.

You checked your phone, one notification from your email’s app. You clicked on it as fast as you could, blowing out in frustration when you saw it was just a marketing email.

You saw someone approaching from your peripheral vision, and you heard “Tough night?”

“Don’t even get me started.” You pushed your face into your hand.

“Try me, honey.”

You turned your face. And, magically, your boyfriend was there. You blinked a few times, not believing he was really sitting next to you, in a suit. You held tight into his arm, and he said “Did she let you have way too many drinks?”

“No. I mean, are you real?”

“Yes, baby, I’m real.”

“How?”

“Finished the mission early, called in for a few favors, got on the first plane here, and asked your friends to keep it a secret.”

“Oh my, you’re really here.” You threw your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. The last time you were this close, it was the morning before his deployment. You always took the days up to the deployment as a chance to spend all the time together. Ok, you had to work, and the house chores wouldn’t magically disappear, but as soon as you were both at home, you’d stick to his side as glue.

“Sorry I missed your speech,” he hugged you back. “I’ll watch the footage later.”

“That’s ok. I’m so happy that you’re here,” you kissed his cheek.

“C’mon, let me take a look at my stunning girlfriend,” he took a step back and, with your hand in his, made you spin on your toes. The flowy dress and high heels were far from your daily clothes. “You look better than in the pictures, honey.”

Your cheeks blushed, and you could bet even the make up wouldn’t be able to hide it. “Thanks.” You took a look at him, finally noticing how good he looked in a normal suit. The color suited him like a glove, and you were considering finding a good excuse to see him wearing it again. You kinda begged him to attend in those pretty white suits the Navy had, but he was always saying those were only for special occasions.

“Should we take a picture?” He rested his hands on your waist.

“Sure!”

Now that you officially had your arm candy with you, it was time to walk around the party introducing your boyfriend to your friends. They were all very friendly and excited to meet him, but also kept the Navy related questions to a minimum. He was all smiles and handsy, keeping you close to him as much as possible.

You got your picture, on the balcony, with the gardens as a background to your affection. Your friend convinced one of the photographers to take a few official pictures — she used the “He’s Navy and flew all the way here to be with her!” card. On the first pic, you were close, side by side, smiling but keeping your hands to yourself.

And then the photographer asked you to look each other in the eyes, and it was like your lips had a magnet of some sorts. He pulled you closer, and gave you a quick kiss on the lips. “Hold her like that!” the photographer said.

Once you had the pictures taken also on our phone, he took you to the dance floor. A slow song, something your parents would play in the car when you were younger, was telling the steps you were taking. Swaying slowly in the middle of the small crowd, soaking in that moment. You snuggled in closer to his chest, leaving him to lead you. 

“I’m so happy you’re here,” you confessed.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t say anything before.” He pressed his lips on the side of your head.

“That’s ok. You know I like surprises when they come from you.”

“I know. And I like being with you.” Another kiss on the side of your face. “And I love you.”

You  tilted your head back, connecting your eyes, “I love you too."

[eternalsams]

probably won't lead to anything but I made moodboards of the daggers for rom-com AUs

if anyone wants to use them for their own writings, tag me. otherwise, don't repost

How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days | Jake Seresin

Notting Hill | Robert Floyd

The Proposal | Natasha Trace

The Holiday | Mickey Garcia

The Notebook | Bradley Bradshaw

Love and Other Drugs | Javy Machado

Pretty Woman | Reuben Fitch

[vivalas-vega]

will you marry me? // dagger squad x reader

howdy y'all !!! this was a random idea I had well over a year ago that I never actually finished and just found when clearing out my wips and thought it would be a fun little thing to post, so please enjoy the dagger squad and what engagement ring I think they'd pick !!! I didn’t even intend for it to be a recurring thing that the proposals don’t go to plan or are silly but I guess it’s just on brand for them lmao

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

this man is all about the classics - I mean, look at his bronco... he wanted to get you something simple with a bit of a modern twist. he's also a very sentimental man. he'd play it casual all week leading up to date night but surprise you by taking you to where you had your first date, whether that's a restaurant or a bar or the beach, and after the most perfect evening he'd propose with his mom's ring. because he's bradley and incredibly thoughtful, he'd also want you to have a ring that's only yours and I think he'd surprise you with that one randomly -- maybe after celebrating the engagement in bed that night, or the next morning over breakfast. you end up wearing Carole’s ring on your right hand (sometimes putting it around a necklace of hers Bradley also gifted you when you want to keep it extra safe) and your new ring on your left.

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Jake is all flash, but that doesn't mean he lacks substance. he scours your pinterest board for weeks and asks all your closest friends for their input, but at the end of the day he trusts himself to get it right because he knows you like the back of his hand. you deserve only the best, and he wants you to park your pretty butt on the beach when he's flying by and to be able to catch a glare from the rock he put on your finger. he'd either propose in the ice cream aisle at the grocery store (which surprises him as much as you) after watching you hem and haw over which flavor to get and deciding to get all three - or, he'd go all out and plan the perfect vacation to a destination that's been on your bucket list and research the most romantic spot in the whole country and really there's no in between.

Robert 'Bob' Floyd

our sweet man of few, but impactful, words. his ring choice and proposal is no different. he wants to get you something beautiful and unique, but neither one of you are known for being frivolous. he picks something modest that shows how well he knows you and how much he loves you. something about him screams christmas proposal - either at his family's snowy farm early in the morning before anyone has a chance to sweep you up in the festivities or in your shared home before heading to Mav and Penny's holiday dinner. either way, its just the two of you wrapped in your own bubble and you tease that Bob should be writing the proposals for hallmark movies because what he says is so perfect. you'd open a suspiciously wrapped gift you think is the worlds lightest pair of shoes but to your shock you find a ring, and Bob always regrets not setting up a camera to capture the priceless look on your face.

Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace

Natasha never thought she was one for marrying until she met you, and she'd definitely get you something beautiful and intricate without sacrificing delicacy. she'd plan the perfect evening in and cook your favorite meal, but absolutely ruin your favorite cookies and while she's flustered and panicking over a sheet of what looks like coal you're just laughing and gazing at her with this dumbstruck look that translates to you're such an idiot and I'm so in love with you and when she catches it she can't help herself and it just flies out, really she nearly yells and you're just standing watching her fumble to get the ring out her pocket not realizing you'd already said yes before you even saw it.

Javy 'Coyote' Machado

Much like Jake, he wants to get you something flashy but he was drawn to this one in particular because the band reminded him of airplane wings and he liked the idea of you not only having a token of his love on your hand every day he's on deployment, but one that has a little piece of his second love too. I think he'd definitely plan a big elaborate proposal but Jake's got a big mouth and didn't know you were at the bar and asks if he popped the question, only to see horror on Javy's face and you standing right behind him so he was really forced into it but of course you said yes because it was chaotic and imperfect and everything you could ever want.

Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia

Mickey would definitely want to get you something a little funky - neither one of you are known for being super traditional, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want you to have the perfect ring. true to his nature as soon as it's in his possession he's a little too excited to wait to plan something out and while you're all snuggled up watching star wars for the hundreth time he just blurts out that wants to marry you and when you look at him in shock he thinks he's ruined it and offended you by not doing it properly but once you get your wits about you all you can say is 'of course I'll marry you, you big idiot'

Reuben 'Payback' Fitch

I think Reuben leans more towards the classics as well, but with a little something extra. your relationship has always been sweet and fun and lighthearted, and your proposal is exactly the same. he takes you to the putt putt course you had your first date at and proposes in front of the windmill, and you can't keep it together long enough to say yes because he dropped the ring in the hole and even when he retrieves it your 'yes' is hard to decipher around all your laughing.

[darksparklesficrecs]

Legitimate question, but in the Top Gun fandom, why not use the term “tag chaser” for the military groupies?

Badge bunnies is the correct term for groupies of cops and firemen, tag chasers are the ones who go after individuals with dog TAGs.

[moonlight-prose]

THE DAGGERS

➢ AN ANTHOLOGY OF STORIES

a/n: this started out as a biker!mickey one shot i was writing, but eventually it just became something bigger. so rather than make this a whole series and drag it on (and possibly never finish cause let's be real it's me), i figured it would be easier and more fun to write small one-shots for each character. below is the masterlist. enjoy!

each fic has their own warnings, but they are all 18+ only!

INSPO TAG | PLAYLIST

BRADLEY "ROOSTER" BRADSHAW

Thieves & Kings | {COMING SOON}

summary: he's the heir to the throne, the would be king. only he doesn't want it - but that's before he meets his queen.

JAKE "HANGMAN" SERESIN

Let It Burn | {COMING SOON}

summary: two households both alike in diginity...is where we meet our lovers. where hatred burns deep and rivalry is worn like a second skin.

JAVY "COYOTE" MACHADO

A Star In The Dark

MICKEY "FANBOY" GARCIA

Tu Corazón Es Mío

REUBEN "PAYBACK" FITCH

Motorbike

NATASHA "PHOENIX" TRACE

Nothing Breaks Like A Heart

ROBERT "BOB" FLOYD

The Sweetest Thing

BILLY "FRITZ" AVALONE

Reckless Driving

[kyber-crystal]

2.7k followers!!

thank you thank you THANK YOU SO MUCH for all your continued support despite me not being as active anymore. it means the absolute WORLD to me : ')

i want to save the bigger celebration for 3k (if i ever hit that milestone haha, but who knows) but in the meantime, feel free to send requests!

here's who i'm willing to write for atm:

star wars: obi-wan, han solo, poe, cassian, luke, anakin, din top gun (1984 AND 2022): iceman, maverick, rooster, hangman, coyote, fanboy, payback, bob mission impossible: ethan, benji, august (maybe...?) mcu: steve, bucky, sam, peter

for reference, here are my faq + request guidelines

[lives-in-midgard]

Maverick: I keep a picture of all of us in my wallet. Whenever I face difficulties, I take it out and stare at the picture.

Dagger Squad: Awwww-

Maverick: And I tell myself "If I can deal with these idiots, then I can deal with anything."

Dagger Squad: Oh.

[callsign-mayhem]

heaven is a place on earth (b.b)

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female!Reader Word count: 4.6k CW: Smut and swearing. MINORS DNI.

A roller rink with the Daggers, a bet with Bradley Bradshaw, and a photo booth that’s about to get way too hot. Lose the game, make the move—neither one of you is backing down, especially when the stakes are so high.

Rollerskating was—of course—Mickey’s idea. Who else, at the ripe age of 32, would suggest it when faced with the question of what to do on a Friday night?

It had come about earlier in the week when Javy complained that he was bored of spending every Friday at The Hard Deck. At first, you were shocked to hear it, but the more you thought about it, the more you realised that you felt the same. The Hard Deck was great and would always be the Dagger Squad’s designated hangout spot, but you could do with a change.

Everybody agreed, but by Thursday night, there was still no plan for the following evening. Jake had suggested a country bar in the city, which you and Reuben had liked the sound of. Turns out, you were the only ones.

Natasha had suggested sushi, but you weren’t a fan and Mickey didn’t think it was exciting enough for your first Friday adventure away from The Hard Deck.

You were getting ready for bed when the text came through to the Dagger Squad group chat.

And that’s how you found yourself lacing up the old pair of skates you’d dug out from the back of your closet.

‘Since when do you own rollerskates?’ Jake retorted.

‘Since college.’ You replied. ‘I got a lot of use out of them. I had a friend who loved skating, and she forced me to buy a pair.’

Jake raised a brow. ‘Doesn’t match up with the version of you I have in my head.’

‘You’re just annoyed ‘cause I’m gonna show you up. Bet you’re shit at skating.’ You smirked.

Bradley, who was lacing up his own skates next to you, huffed a laugh. Jake’s shit-eating grin faltered. He was getting that look he always got when he challenged someone.

‘How hard can it be?’ He asked, full of fake bravado.

‘It’s harder than it looks.’ You told him.

‘Ten bucks says you fall on your ass before I do.’

You looked up at him and smirked, reaching your hand out so you could shake on it. ‘Oh, you’re so on.’

‘Material Girl’ by Madonna blasted through the overhead speakers, and disco lights spattered the rink with colour. The neon-coloured seats outside the rink were shaped like giant blobs of paint, and the Daggers were spread across three of them, getting ready to make total fools of themselves.

Bob shifted uneasily as he eyed his feet, trying to figure out how to stand up without sprawling flat out on the ground. You stood up easily and glided over to him, earning you a whistle from Reuben.

‘You okay, Bobby?’ You asked, even though you already knew the answer.

He offered you a weak smile. ‘I’ve never skated before.’

‘That’s okay, I’ll help.’

You held out both hands and he took them tentatively. His palms were slick with nervous sweat, and you had to swallow a laugh. It would only make him more nervous if he thought you were making fun of him.

‘Alright, on the count of three. One…two…’

And then you pulled him up. He couldn’t straighten his legs at first, and he wobbled a bit, but after a couple of seconds he was standing up straight and steady.

‘There you go.’ You praised. ‘Easy peasy.’

Nat, who was leaning against the edge of the rink waiting for everyone, clapped.

‘Now you’ve actually gotta move, Floyd.’ She called out.

Bob glanced at her nervously.

‘Ignore her. You fly in multi-million dollar jets every day, Bob. You can get yourself from here to the rink.’

Thankfully, this turned out to be precisely the right thing to say. You held on to one of his hands, and the two of you gently edged over to Nat. It took longer than it should have, but he was still upright by the time he got there, so you counted that as a win.

‘Well done.’ You beamed.

You were about to step out onto the rink when Mickey called out your name.

‘Can I get a ride, too? I’m stuck!’ He yelled.

You rolled your eyes. ‘This was your idea!’

‘Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I know how to skate!’

You whizzed over to where Mickey was standing. He smiled sheepishly as you took his hand and repeated the same steps you’d taken with Bob. Mickey almost fell over, but he was right by the rink by that point, so he grabbed the edge to stop it from happening.

Effortlessly, you spun around. ‘Okay, anybody else?’

Bradley rolled over almost as effortlessly as you had. He was wearing one of his more ‘out there’ Hawaiian shirts, and the pink flowers seemed to glow in the dark. Honestly, you were a bit gutted that he didn’t need your help—it would’ve been a good excuse to hold his hand.

He leaned down so you would be able to hear him. ‘Hangman needs help, but he’s too proud to admit it.’ Bradley murmured, his breath warm against the side of your neck.

You hoped he didn’t notice the goosebumps that broke out across your skin.

‘I wouldn’t help him even if he asked.’ You retorted.

Javy and Reuben managed to get over to the rink's edge without much trouble, but Jake was checking his phone one last time and ensuring it was secure in the pocket of his jeans.

‘What’re you waitin’ for, Hangman?’ You shouted.

He rolled his eyes, and you and Bradley both laughed.

Jake on roller skates reminded you of a baby deer that hadn’t learned to walk properly yet. You suspected you would be ten bucks richer in the next five minutes.

Madonna gave way to ‘Take On Me’ by Aha, and Bradley nudged your arm with his elbow.

‘I love this song, let’s get out there. Hangman will catch up.’

His smile and joyous energy were infectious, so you followed him onto the rink without a word, and without looking back at poor Jake who was stuck behind a group of kids who were skating better than he was.

‘It’s the carpet.’ You heard him say. ‘I’ll be fine once I get off the carpet.’

Reuben, Coyote, and Nat were right behind Bradley and you. You mistakenly thought it would be a while before any of them could catch up on you, but then Nat glided past you, her dark hair billowing out behind her.

‘Whoa, Phoenix! I thought you couldn’t skate!’ Bradley exclaimed.

She spun around, so she was rolling backwards. ‘I never said that. There are plenty of things you don’t know about me!’

She sped off. Reuben and Javy tried to catch up, but their glides weren’t long enough, and they wobbled a lot.

‘You’re shuffling, not skating.’ You instructed. ‘You need to push the tips of your toes into the floor and then push forward.’

They wore matching confused frowns, and you huffed in annoyance. ‘It’s hard to explain. Just watch my feet!’

When the song's chorus kicked in, you pushed off and started taking long strides across the rink. When you got close to the edge, you leaned to your left to get around the corner, and then picked up your speed. It felt like being 21 again, carefree and full of boundless energy.

By the time Mickey, Bob and Jake finally joined the rest of the squad on the rink, you'd done three loops.

Reuben and Javy watched you closely; before long, they were building their confidence. Bradley was skating next to them, watching you with an impressed smirk.

It was easily the most fun you’d had in months.

Especially when Jake got too cocky, sped up and went straight into the barrier around the rink. You felt it in your body when he smashed into the floor.

You got to him quickly and helped him back onto his feet.

‘Are you hurt?’ You asked.

‘Just my pride.’

You grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘In that case, you owe me ten dollars.’ You said, and then you were on your way again.

Nat was teaching Bob and Mickey the same technique you’d taught Javy and Reuben, who were now racing each other around the rink. You’d slowed down next to Bradley to watch the commotion that was sure to end in tears.

Not five seconds later, the same group of kids that had gotten in Jake’s way were right in their path. The pair of them were going way too fast to stop, and before you could shout, the whole lot of them were in a pile on the floor. Both you and Bradley doubled over in hysterics, unable to breathe properly.

You were laughing so hard that you almost fell over. Bradley grabbed your waist with his big, strong hands, steadying you immediately. The warmth of his touch through the skin-tight fabric of your tank top was something you doubted you’d be able to forget anytime soon.

‘Easy, sweetheart.’ He said gruffly.

Your heart pitter-pattered, loud and fast enough that you were sure he could hear it over ‘Heaven Is A Place On Earth.’ Your mind wandered to the other places you wouldn’t mind those hands being, and you were nearing dangerous territory. Like, not-being-able-to-look-Bradley-in-the-eye-without-kissing-him territory.

But then Mickey rolled up beside you, the rest of the Daggers in tow, demanding your hand. Apparently, there was a first time for everything, because suddenly, you’d all made one long link. A friendship link, as Mickey had so gleefully yelled. You were skating around the rink in one long chain, laughing and singing along to Belinda Carlisle. It was a neon-coloured, cotton-candy scented dream.

Nearly two hours passed. The time flew by so quickly that when someone announced over the intercom that the seven o'clock group had only 5 minutes left, you were genuinely gobsmacked.

‘There’s no way we’ve been here that long already!’ Mickey exclaimed.

‘I know right,’ you said, pretty bummed out. ‘We’re gonna have to come back, I really enjoyed tonight.’

Nat looped her arm through yours. ‘I think even Hangman enjoyed himself towards the end.’

Jake was in front of you, trying to learn how to skate backwards with Bradley, who kept catching your eye on purpose.

There had always been chemistry between you, but nothing had ever come of it. In actual fact, tonight was the most obvious the two of you had been about it.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have time to dwell on this too much, because you had to get off the rink. The group chatted happily as they removed their skates and put their shoes back on. Everybody else had rented skates, so you went outside to wait while they returned them.

After two hours of skating, the fresh air was a relief. Your skates were tied together, slung over your shoulder, and you closed your eyes and lifted your face to the sky, breathing deeply. A night with your squad always left you feeling whole in ways that alone time didn’t.

‘Y/N!’ Bradley called.

You turned around to find him standing in the doorway holding what appeared to be two beers.

‘There’s an arcade upstairs, and bowling. You comin’ back in?’

This wasn’t part of the plan, but you were happy that the night wasn’t over yet.

‘What, so I can kick your ass at every game?’ You teased.

Bradley cocked a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching as he suppressed a smirk. God, you wanted to kiss that stupid mouth.

‘How about we make a bet of our own?’ He said, watching as you strolled over to him.

You didn’t stop until you were right in front of him, close enough that if you stood on your tiptoes just slightly, your lips would be touching.

‘What do you have in mind?’

He stared at you intently, eyes dark with lust. His brief glance at your glossed lips was a dead giveaway. ‘First one to lose a game has to make the first move.’ He rasped.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, and he released a short, exasperated breath.

‘Deal.’

Reuben, Javy, Bob and Mickey were locked into a serious game of bowling. You weren’t sure, but you thought they were playing for money. Nat and Jake were playing air hockey—rather viciously. After dumping your skates, you and Bradley set about choosing a game to play.

Mickey had really lucked-out by finding this place. The arcade was chock-full of different games and amusements—so many that you were overwhelmed by choices.

Bradley suggested Mortal Kombat, to which you politely declined. You counter-offered the race car sim, but Bradley wasn’t feeling it.

After playfully debating pros and cons for most of the games, the pair of you found yourself in front of Dance Dance Revolution.

There were so many pros for this one. For one, you kicked ass at DDR. For two, you would be in close proximity the entire time. You could accidentally trip him up or something.

Bradley shook his head slowly. ‘Uh-uh. Nope.’ He made a point of popping the ‘p’.

‘Why?’ You whined. ‘Please, it’ll be fun. Besides, I suck at this game so I’ll probably lose anyway.’ You lied.

Bradley eyed you suspiciously. Then, he got distracted and he trailed over your entire body. You might as well have been standing naked in front of him, for the way it made you feel.

He licked his bottom lip and you shivered. ‘Fine. Dance battle it is.’

You stepped onto the DDR platform, rolling your shoulders as the neon lights flickered over the screen. Bradley took the spot next to you, cracking his knuckles like he was about to go into battle.

He glanced over, that cocky smirk already tugging at the corner of his mouth. ‘Think you can keep up with me, sweetheart?’ He teased, nudging your shoulder.

The machine beeped, the song selection flashing across the screen, and you scrolled through the options with deliberate slowness, dragging out the moment just to watch him fidget. His hands settled on his hips, chest rising and falling as he exhaled through his nose. Oh, he wants to win. Badly.

But when you finally picked a song and stepped back, Bradley leaned in—just enough for his breath to ghost over your cheek—and murmured, ‘Hope you don’t get too distracted.’

The countdown ticked down, and the first notes of the song exploded from the speakers. The arrows rolled up the screen, and you both moved in sync, feet tapping out the rhythm like it was second nature. You were laser-focused—at first. But then you glanced over, and Bradley was watching you, not the screen.

He was still nailing every step, his body moving effortlessly, but his eyes? They flickered over to yours, his smirk widening when he caught you looking. Oh, he was playing dirty.

‘You’re slowing down, sweetheart.’ He taunted over the pounding bass, his voice smug and dripping with amusement.

You gritted your teeth and snapped your gaze back to the screen, doubling down—faster steps. Perfect timing. Your score started climbing, matching his. But then—distraction struck back.

Bradley suddenly rolled his hips with the beat, his arms lifting slightly like he was actually dancing instead of just playing, and your brain stuttered.

‘Oh, come on.’ You huffed, missing an arrow.

His laughter was rich and victorious, but you didn’t have time to glare at him. The song kicked into high gear, the steps coming rapid-fire, and you forced yourself to focus, willing your feet to move faster, faster, until—

The screen flashed.

PLAYER TWO: GAME OVER.

Your heart sank as you realised what just happened. One tiny misstep, one moment of distraction, and—

Bradley whooped, punching the air. ‘And that, sweetheart, is game.’ He crowed, stepping off the platform with the swagger of a man who knew exactly what was coming next.

Your stomach flipped as he turned back to face you, grinning like the cat who got the cream. ‘You remember the bet, don’t you?’

Oh, you remembered.

And from the way he was looking at you—his lips slightly parted, his hands twitching at his sides like he was holding himself back—so did he.

You’d felt pretty confident up until about five seconds ago, and now the rug had been ripped out from under you. The DDR machine was in a poorly lit corner at the back of the arcade. Panicking slightly, you scanned your surroundings, trying to devise a plan. What if someone saw you? Were you supposed to kiss him?

Then your attention was snagged by the photo booth against the opposite wall. It was nestled between the back wall and a claw machine full of Jellycats. If this next part went well, you made a mental note to bring Bradley back here and make him win one for you.

Now you had a plan, your confidence was slowly trickling back in. After one more glance around the space to make sure none of the Daggers were watching, you grabbed Bradley’s hand and pulled him towards the photo booth.

‘Romantic.’ He quipped, a shit-eating grin to rival Jake’s plastered on his face.

If you thought DDR was close quarters, this was something else entirely. The bench was just big enough for the two of you.

You pushed the button to start it up, and prepared to pose for the first picture.

You knew the first one would be cute, because you and Bradley were both grinning like lovesick fools. As the countdown began for the second picture, your confidence finally hit max capacity…

Without giving yourself time to back out, you put your hand on the top of Bradley’s thigh and just before the camera snapped, you (not so) gently grabbed his dick. Now you were the one sporting the shit-eating grin, and Bradley’s head snapped towards you. That move had made him practically rabid.

You stared each other down, the countdown totally forgotten about. It didn’t matter, anyway. You were perfectly on time without even trying.

One minute, you were staring, and the next, Bradley was on you. Your hands were in his hair as he pulled you onto his lap and let both of his hands rest on your ass. The kiss was sloppy and frantic; you didn’t dare stop even though you were breathless. You’d been waiting a long time for this. You silently thanked your past self for choosing this little white tennis skirt. You could feel Bradley’s hard-on through your underwear.

His hands, which were on top of your skirt, now reached under so he was touching bare skin (another thank you to your past self for the pretty white thong). This only seemed to intensify the moment, because his lips moved to your neck. It was your turn to make noise when he began sucking on the sweet spot just below your earlobe. Honestly, you hadn’t meant for the moan to escape you, but it had, and he’d definitely heard it.

Bradley stopped only to tease you. ‘Oh, you like that do you?’

‘B-bradley.’ You breathed.

‘Okay, okay.’ He whispered. ‘I’ll carry on.’

And he did. You became a squirming, writhing mess on top of him, and he was eating it up. You’d lost the bet and you wanted to take some control back. While he was busy kissing your neck, you undid the button and zipper on his jeans, and reached in. You were sly and quick about it, and he barely had enough time to register what you were doing before you were palming his dick over his boxers.

Bradley’s breath caught in his throat as he tilted his head back up to look at you. His eyes were all pupil, and his cheeks were as red as the photo booth curtain. How was it possible for a man to be so fucking sexy and so adorable at the same time?

You had him right where you wanted him. Or so you’d thought. Stupidly, you found yourself getting distracted by the size of him, and that’s when he took two fingers and slipped them underneath the wet fabric separating you from him. All he had to do was make one stroke, and you were mewing in his lap.

‘Unless you want me to fuck you in this photobooth,’ you snapped. ‘You better cut that shit out.’

A deep, husky chuckle rolled through him, vibrating against your chest. You were half-joking, but he took your threat seriously. Adjusting slightly, he pulled his jeans down so they were at his knees, and then let you resume your former position. If you shimmied forward slightly, you’d be sitting directly on his dick, just his boxers and your flimsy underwear between you. Luckily for you, you didn’t have to decide whether to do that or not, because Bradley gripped your thighs and pulled you forward.

Dizzy with lust, you reached around and pulled his length from his boxers. Following your lead, he pulled your thong to the side, and slowly pushed two fingers deep into the heat of you. You bit back a moan that would have been far too loud, and his smirk was so frustrating that you had to cover his mouth with yours to hide it. He licked your bottom lip, and you let him taste you. It was a good distraction from the noises you were thinking about making.

‘I don’t have a condom.’ He whispered against your lips.

You were in such a state of ecstasy that you could barely get two words out. You just about managed to say one, which was simply ‘pill.’

He chuckled darkly again, and you tightened around his fingers. ‘Can you give me a full sentence, pretty girl? I need to make sure we’re both on the same page.’

He was being genuine, but he also couldn’t help himself. He added another finger and watched your eyes roll into the back of your head.

‘Sweet girl?’ He prompted.

You had a death grip on his bicep. ‘I’m. On. The. Pill.’ You said through gritted teeth.

‘See,’ he whispered, positioning himself beneath you. ‘That wasn’t so hard, was it?’

‘I’m gonna get you back for that someday, Bradshaw.’

‘I look forward to it.’

His tip pressed against your entrance. Briefly, you wondered what would happen if one of the Daggers, or some random stranger, came down to this end of the arcade. But then you were sinking onto Bradley’s cock, and the worries just melted away. As he gripped your hips and to help you get a rhythm, the phrase ‘rearrange my guts’ took on a totally new meaning. You groaned, and Bradley captured your lips in a brief kiss.

‘Quiet, sweetheart.’

Something about his commanding tone made it harder to keep quiet. You bit down on your lip to keep from shouting his name at the top of your lungs.

You were having sex. With Bradley Bradshaw. In a photo booth.

If Bradley hadn’t suddenly grabbed your hips, lifted you slightly, and started thrusting up into you, you would’ve laughed.

‘Fuck,’ he stuttered. ‘You feel so good.’

You were close. You tightened around him and he groaned again—it was your new favourite sound.

‘I’m-’

‘Me too.’

And then both of you were coming. Hard. His head rolled back as he tipped over the edge and spilled into you. It felt like someone had used your nerve endings to light a match.

You rode out your highs together, and when you were spent, you let out a long, shaky breath.

‘Holy fuck.’ You said.

Bradley ran a hand through his hair. ‘Well, I hope you like souvenirs, baby, ‘cause we’re keeping those pictures.’

You laughed. ‘We should probably get out of here. We’ve been missing a while.’

He kissed you again, for good measure. ‘I need to ask you something.'

You cocked your head. ‘What?’

‘Was that a one time thing?’

‘I really, really hope not.’

Back at the bowling lanes, Jake and Nat had joined in the fun. When you and Bradley appeared, everybody turned. Jake grinned wickedly. You locked eyes with Bob and he diverted his gaze very quickly. Nat was glaring at Bradley like a disappointed mother. Mickey and Reuben both handed Javy twenty bucks. All of this happened over the course of five, extremely drawn-out seconds.

‘You two were gone a while.’ Nat pointed out, folding her arms.

You and Bradley glanced at each other, unsure how to approach this situation.

‘We were playing Dance Dance Revolution.’ You told her. ‘I lost a bet.’

‘Really.’ She droned, sounding almost bored.

Oh, she knew alright.

You scrambled for something to say, tried to ignore the heat of everyone’s eyes burning into you. It was like they could see your sinful act written all over you.

And the ground might as well have opened up and swallowed you whole when Nat said: ‘Take any nice pictures?’

A/N: Just a little one shot while I try to motivate myself to finish my WIPs. This is my first time writing smut, so if it sucks, go easy on me.

[sometimes-i-write-good]

Handling It

Top Gun: Maverick - Fanboy x f!reader [no use of y/n]

7.2k | Fanboy couldn’t remember the last time he punched someone square in the face. Today seemed as good a day as any. He’d forgotten the way pain blossomed behind his knuckles and webbed its way up his arm. Assault and battery charges were the last thing on his mind. Honestly the only thing on his mind when he threw that punch was you.

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Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

CW: Mentions of Abuse and Stalking, Breaking of Restraining Order, one-sided bar fight, insults and confrontation by a past abuser (there is no mentions or illusions to physical abuse, but please handle anything to do with emotional/mental abuse, stalking, and breaking of restraining orders with care. If this story isn’t for you, that’s okay. Just be safe <3) 

Author’s Note: I’m a sucker for the ‘who did this to you’ style fics or any kind of ‘you came? you called’ - also, sorry to any Brent’s who caught a stray today. || cross-posted on ao3

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“I can’t name just one thing.” 

Mickey laughed over the lip of his beer bottle.  A quick sip to, hopefully, mask the pink gracing his cheeks, even though he knew the effort was futile at best.  “You know that.”

Reuben wouldn’t listen.  He never did.  It was one of the many qualities that made him such a great friend at times, and such a frustrating one tonight.  “One thing you like about her,” Payback pushed for an answer.  “It’s not that difficult of a question, Mick.” 

But it was. 

They went through this once a week.  Minimum.  He and Payback skirted off base early - easier to secure a spot at the bar before the crowds rolled in - all to sip a few beers and lament over the fact that they both missed the clause in their kickass fighter pilot careers where it stated relationships wouldn’t fall into their laps.  If anything, their chances at love were as out of reach as the horizon in front of them.  They could speed towards it all they wanted.  The line would still always be there, a hair’s breadth away. 

Reuben often started.  Making sure to take his time in overanalyzing every interaction he had that week with the woman who worked in the control tower.  Fanboy could agree she had the voice of an angel.  Payback’s infatuation was completely warranted.  Even before they found out she also looked like an angel, Mickey could tell she was a good fit for his wingman.  Reuben would flirt relentlessly and she, ever professional, would instruct them with a smile in her voice.  Occasionally she’d joke around, but not enough for a week by week breakdown.  Her clearing them for landing wasn’t the easiest thing to warp into a ‘dude, she likes you. You should totally ask her out.’  

Creating a conversation around you took no effort for Fanboy at all. 

“She’s like no one else I’ve ever met, Reuben.” Once Mickey got started, he couldn’t stop.  His callsign hadn’t exactly spawned into existence because of his cool, detached, and nonchalant approach towards anything he remotely liked.

“I know what you mean,” Payback said.  

He motioned to the bartender for another beer.  Mav and Penny had a date tonight.  Precisely why he and Mickey were sitting belly up to the bar so early on a Thursday afternoon.  No eavesdropping from Penny.  She was known for meddling if any of her regulars were remotely interested in each other.

“Day,” Payback sighed, “she has the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard.  You know what she did last week?” 

Fanboy arched a brow.  He did know what she did last week.  The past few months of being stationed here sat in his mind, carefully cataloged away.  From the batting eyelashes to the extremely obvious attempts to get Reuben to ask her out on a date.  Mickey knew Day’s entire day all thanks to Payback’s crush.  At this point, he felt like he knew her well enough to consider her a friend despite having never held a conversation with her. 

Payback could easily do the same.  There was one memory in particular Fanboy would break down again and again - Reuben truly had the patience of a saint. 

“Does your mother call you Garcia?”  You asked the first time he took you out for drinks.

The rest of the Dagger Squad milled about the bar.  You all had shown up together, along with some of your fellow TOPGUN instructors, but somehow Mickey paid for everyone’s drinks that night.  The two of you ended up tucked away in a booth by yourselves.  He couldn’t help but to think of it as a date.

“No, she doesn’t.”  He remembered how to form words somewhere between watching you polish off your drink and feeling you lean in closer to show your interest.

“Does she call you Fanboy?”  A sheepish grin and a small shake of his head.  “So what does she call you?” 

He leaned closer to you, stopping just before your noses could touch.  “She calls me Miguel.”

You tested the word out for yourself.  Reuben swears that was the moment Mickey fell in love, and he wasn’t entirely wrong.  Fanboy melted when he heard his name on your lips.  This shift in power felt dangerous.  At any point you could have this man in a puddle at your feet, willing to do anything for you.  Yet, Mickey felt nothing but trust.  You had never been one to abuse power - unless, of course, it was to give Hangman shit or get Payback back for something.

“But I can call you Mickey?”  You smiled one of the most stunning smiles Fanboy ever saw out of you.  How could he say no? 

And that’s how you wormed your way into a first name basis.  On top of becoming a featured subject for their Friday debriefs.  If Payback took a shot every time Fanboy asked “Do you think her asking to call me Mickey was her way of hitting on me?” he’d have alcohol poisoning. 

“Mickey!”  

His head snapped towards the sound of your voice like a moth to a flame.  Icarus to the sun.  Maverick to bad decisions.  Hangman to asshole comments.  Thousands of similes all as timeless as the way his heart ached in your presence.  A romance for the ages.  

He only wished it could get off the ground.  

Reuben slapped him on the shoulder.  He passed Fanboy a tequila shot saying, “You need to make a move tonight.” 

You moved towards the pair, splitting off from your friends.  Surely that was something Mickey could overanalyze later tonight.

“Yeah,” he answered absentmindedly.  “Sounds good.”

“Hi, Reuben.”  You saddled up to the bar.  Payback crushed you in a hug, and Mickey couldn’t ignore the jealousy flickering about in his chest.  When would he build up the courage to greet you with a hug?  Why couldn’t he approach anything that had to do with you with the same surefire confidence he could impart towards flying?

You squirmed in Payback’s grip.  “Too tight,” you playfully choked out.  “I’m dyin’ here.” 

Payback released you, taking care to carefully shove you closer to Mickey, and laughed.  “Good to see you too, Einstein.” 

Both you and Mickey shot him a look.  You’d been through your fair share of shitty callsigns. Mouth, which finally got axed after filing enough harassment claims, started because you’d mouthed off to your superior once during Plebe Summer and had your whole squad in the doghouse for two months.  It took another two months for the disdain to finally drop off whenever someone called you.  By then, though, people had been shifted around, and most at The Academy (those with extreme insecurity) didn’t appreciate having a woman attempting to be a future TOPGUN flier.  

Needless to say, Mouth in the hands of young men with sexism at the forefront of their minds quickly became a problem. So the remainder of your time at The Academy, and sometime after, marked you as IKEA.  I Know Everything Anyway.  Not nearly as cool as Maverick, Slider, or Iceman, but you’d rather be known for your brain than your hotheadedness. Talking over everyone simply had to happen in class.  Otherwise you weren’t going to be heard at all. 

Einstein came later; from Iceman himself.  He came to personally congratulate you on your perfect score.  “You’re a regular Einstein, aren’t you?”  He’d said, and it stuck.  Sometimes spoken in awe, sometimes with disgust, but mostly in a playful manner like Payback always managed. 

“Watch yourself, Payback.”  You plucked the shot from Mickey’s fingertips.  It was gone in a flash.  “Can I have another round, please?”  You asked the bartender, then turned towards Fanboy with a grin.  “You’re having one with me, right?  And one more, probably, to make things even.”

The one thing Reuben asked about earlier came to mind.  Your refusal to take shit.  That would have to be his favorite thing (in this moment because Fanboy knew he truly couldn’t choose a single aspect) about you.

“What’re you starin’ at?”  How you tilted your head to scrutinize him reminded Mickey of his childhood dog.  A stray his mother swore up and down would never come in the house, only to end up sleeping in bed with her each night.  Kind of like you - except you snuck your way into his heart rather than his bed.  “Are you okay?”

Mickey could feel the heat radiating off his face.  In comparing you to his childhood dog, he had gotten the image of you in his bed stuck in his mind.  What a dream, and not even in the typical horny way people used the term ‘in bed.’  Fanboy’s fantasy consisted of being able to hold you, talk to you for hours in the early hours of the morning, and revel in the knowledge that out of anyone in the world you could choose, you chose him.  Anything more that came with a domestic love like that would be a bonus. 

Of course, you weren’t a mind reader.  Thank god for that.  No stumbling apology would ever be enough to save Mickey from the embarrassment of daydreaming about you while you were next to him.  This crush steadily reached towards schoolgirl doodling your joint married name in a notebook levels of delusion.  Whoever said be friends with your crush never mentioned the crushing anxiety of ruining that friendship with any given misstep.  When did Mickey know it was safe to take the next step?

“Hmmm?”  The tips of his ears grew hot as you stared.  Somehow he managed to grasp every chance to make a fool of himself around you.  “Yeah,” he breathed, acutely aware of Payback’s smirk off to the side, “I’m fine.” 

“Are you doing a tequila shot?” 

“I don’t know about Mick here-” Reuben brought a hand down on Mickey’s shoulder- “but I will definitely be having one.”  He turned his attention to the bartender pouring the shots.  “Lime and salt too, please.”

Your eyebrows practically shot to your forehead.  “You can’t handle a tequila shot?  I would not have guessed that about you, Payback.” 

If only she knew how Reuben truly partied.  Fanboy knew him longest out of anyone on The Dagger Squad; they'd been a pair for most of his career.  

Payback brought a hand to his chest.  He gasped dramatically and Mickey rolled his eyes.  “We call him Payback because of all the shots I paid for that he promised to pay me back for.”

“I did pay you back!” 

“When?” 

“How many times have I saved your life?”

You laughed, doing nothing for the heat still trapped in Mickey’s cheeks.  “Isn’t that your job?”

“I could be shit at my job.”  Payback shrugged.  He shifted his position to reach for the salt on the table.  All the confidence of a man who didn’t own this tab - Mickey, unfortunately, would be paying for more of the squad’s drinks tonight.  “The lime and salt,” he explained, “are a part of the experience.  There’s a comradery to a ritual done together.  After this, we’re bonded for life.” 

Long ago Fanboy used to be envious of the way people flocked to Payback.  This simple act transformed into a performance.  Storytelling was an art, and Reuben perfected it.  He even had you succumbing to the supposed weakness of using a chaser.

To not stare you down while you licked your hand, Fanboy busied himself with the salt.  However, his eyes flickered to you for the briefest of seconds.  Right as he dragged his tongue over the fleshy part between his thumb and wrist.  The want must have been apparent.  He had always been the type to wear his emotions on his face.  

But you weren’t.  So when your eyes widened, Mickey paused.  A horrible thing to do considering his current position.   Your chest stilled for a second, eyes trained on him, and time stopped entirely.  The knowledge that you might just want him too sent Fanboy crashing back to reality.  He salted his hand with as steady a hand he could manage.

“A toast!”  You cleared your throat, eyes darting around before settling pointedly not on Fanyboy.  He could see your desperation for control.  “Payback?”

Payback lifted his shot glass.  The two of you followed suit.  “May it always be the other guy who says 'This drink's on me.’”

Between Fanboy’s annoyance and your giggle Reuben licked the salt, threw back the shot, and grabbed a lime wedge to bite down on.  He grinned around the peel.  “I win.” 

The competitive nature of fighter pilots took over.  Mickey completed the sequence with ease.  His bank account wouldn’t appreciate the smooth taste of the liquor but nearly dying those few months ago made him realize two things.  One, he really didn’t want to spend all his time pining over you - he’d rather be with you.  Two, he was getting too old for cheap liquor.

“That’s really- hey!”  You felt around blindly on the counter.  “Mickey, that's so not fair.” 

He brandished your lime slice.  “You’re supposed to do the shot, then complain about Payback.  Everyone knows this.” 

You stuck your bottom lip out in an overdramatic pout.  “I wanted that.”

“Oh, yeah?”  Sure, Fanboy may have deepened his voice slightly.  He might have seized the opportunity to slide forward, closer to you.  What was he supposed to do?  Ignore your blatant attempts at flirting because someone else was standing right there?  He’d been doing that for the entire time he’d known you.  At some point the third wheel needed to read the room.

Placing the lime wedge between your lips helped Payback do precisely that.  His gaze flicked back and forth between Fanboy and his thumb gently pushing the fruit to your mouth.  “I, uh,” Reuben fumbled for words, “I’ll go over there.” 

No one acknowledged his departure.  Fanboy kept his eyes locked on yours.  After all, you were the whole reason he was at the bar in the first place.  You pulled the lime into your mouth, and he let his thumb linger on your bottom lip for a moment before leaning back on the bar stool.

“Done pouting?”  

You popped the lime out of your mouth.  “I wasn’t pouting.”

Being a gentleman became so much harder when you ran your tongue over your lips to lick up all the juice.  The movement killed Fanboy’s ability to speak entirely.  Your smirk confirmed what he already knew.  You were well aware of his weaknesses.

“So, Mickey…”

Like the sound of his name falling from those very lips.

It had been a while since the two of you talked about something other than work.  Hell, Fanboy couldn’t remember the last time you and him were one on one.  A lie.  Payback debriefed that last one on one conversation with Mickey a few days ago.  He couldn’t help it.  Every day you were gentle on his mind. 

“What have you been fanboying over recently?”  You toyed with the citrus peel.  Focused intently on pushing the thing around the counter.  “Anything interesting?”

“You mean other than you?”  

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.  His eyes locked on yours.  Widening by the second with embarrassment.  “I mean-”

A shy smile played on your lips.  You looked pleased with yourself as you said, “Yeah, other than me.  I try not to talk about myself too much.  Don’t want to be Bagman Jr.”

Oh, Mickey could kiss you right now.

“Then what do you want to talk about?”  He asked.  Straightforward in the hopes of appearing more confident than he felt.  Fanboy could face certain death, he could face Cyclone, and he could face Bob in poker.  Your pretty face on the other hand almost always left him flustered.

You tapped a finger against your chin.  Faking a deep concentration to pull a smile out of Mickey.  “What was that TV show you’ve been dying to get everyone to watch, again?”

He instantly perked up.  “You sure you want to open that door?”

“You’re right.  Let’s have one more shot first,” you teased.  Your hand rested on Mickey’s forearm.  He tried hard not to stare at the headliner for flirty behavior and focused on your beautiful smile instead.  The whole time his heart threatened to beat out of his chest.  “I’m sure, Mickey.  I like listening to you talk.” 

And, damn, did Mickey talk.  Somewhere in the midst of laughter, finding excuses to touch one another, and conversation the two limes turned into seven.  The liquor worked any and all tension from Mickey.  Tipsy - maybe leaning more on drunk - confidence coursed through him.  Any flirty freudian slips he took in stride.  

Tequila made a new man out of Fanboy.  A closer version of himself, might be a better way to look at it.  How he normally attempted to pick women up at bars.  You weren’t any woman.  Precisely why so many shots were necessary in the first place.

“Is it Thursday today?”  You slurred your words together ever so slightly.  The drinks brought a warmth to your cheeks that hadn’t been there earlier.  Fanboy resisted the urge to reach out.  Scared the slightest touch would shatter the illusion.  “Thursday is darts day.” 

“Thursday is karaoke day,” Mickey corrected, his sentence also fuzzy around the edges.  “ ‘s why Coyote’s not here.” 

He focused on the concentrated furrow between your brow.  An expression that only ever came out when you were drinking.  Sober you calculated everything immediately.  A beer or two in a loading screen appeared while you clicked the pieces into place.  “But Bob’s here.” 

Bob and Javy often skipped Thursday’s at The Hard Deck.  Karaoke was bad enough with sober people who couldn’t sing.  Adding drunkenness to the equation ended in certain disaster.  Case in point - Javy “Coyote” Machado almost became Javy “Wolf” Machado because of all the drunken howling he did onstage instead of singing.  

He hadn’t shown his face at karaoke since.

“Bob is here at Phoenix’s request.”  That request being he lost a bet, but semantics were lost on the squad.  “My guess is she gets him to sing ‘Sweet Caroline.’”

“All that attention on him?  He’d melt.” 

Fanboy shook his head.  Bob was shy, sure, but he could handle the spotlight with enough time to prepare.  “No, but Rooster is absolutely going to take the next three slots after to prove he’s the better singer.”  

You laughed, and Fanboy could have sworn you used that as an excuse to lean in close and squeeze his bicep.  “Oh, I’m telling him you said that.”  You swung around in your stool, using Mickey’s arm to stabilize yourself, and searched for Rooster in the sea of people.

In your time surveying the crowd, Fanboy traced the rim of his empty shot glass and reveled in being your rock.  Could this be your future together?  Inside jokes over drinks.  Innocent touches with serious potential to transform into something more.

Tonight everything became clear.  All questions would be answered - good or bad - Mickey decided.  You were the brains.  IKEA.  You could tell him if you knew your feelings for him.  If this pipedream had potential or would swirl down the drain.

Nails pricking skin pulled Fanboy from his thoughts.  Your grip went stiff along with the rest of your body.  Any traces of a buzz disappeared entirely in this strange rigid poster.  He carefully pried your hand off him.  “What is it?”

“Brent.”  Your voice escaped you in a panicked whisper.

The name registered with Mickey briefly after wracking his tequila soaked brain for a moment longer than necessary.   A few weeks ago, during downtime between practice hops, everyone traded stories about the worst ex they had.  Payback shared his egregious tale about a girl he dated in high school stealing his dog when he didn’t ask her to prom, Phoenix told everyone how her blind date ended up storming into the kitchen of the restaurant they were at to cook his own meal, and Mickey gave the pared down version of his longest relationship ending when she moved halfway across the country to reunite with her… other boyfriend.

No one had anything nice to say.  Except for you.  

Your most recent ex, it seemed, had boundary issues that couldn’t be solved in a relationship with someone in the military.  The constant reminders and communication simply weren’t compatible with where you were at in your career.  Always moving around from base to base, fully prepared to be whisked away on a secret mission without a word of warning, didn’t bode well for the two of you.  So, you split.

Everyone - Hangman - blatantly accused you of still having feelings for this man.  Mickey couldn’t help but lean forward with interest, waiting for your answer.  He prepared himself for crushing disappointment.  You simply dismissed the notion with a gentle, “He’s not bad people.  I wish him nothing but the best, and I hope that best for him is far, far away from me.” 

But your body language conveyed the opposite.  You stood, swaying on your feet, and shook your head. Mickey was immediately off the barstool.  Buzz be damned.  He let himself assume the worst and boost some adrenaline into his system.  Overpowering the effects of the alcohol with stress always pulled Mickey’s mind back together.  He called a constant state of anxiety home.  Fight or flight was where he performed best.  Fanboy had medals to prove it. 

“Einstein?  Are you okay?”

One arm wrapped around your waist.  The look of shock on your face had Fanboy scared your legs would give out from beneath you at any given moment.  His earlier thought of being your rock solidified in this storm.  He wanted to be your constant, a source of comfort. 

If only he knew how to help you.

For a second you didn’t answer him.  Your eyes were locked on the man who had just passed through the threshold of The Hard Deck.  Then you nodded.  “Yeah.”  You sounded far away.  “Everything’s fine.” 

Fanboy followed your gaze.  He wanted to know exactly which man you side-eyed.  

Smaller and skinnier than a lot of the men in the bar, expected from someone who wasn’t training with the Navy seven days a week.  He appeared unassuming.  Still, you knuckles were turning white from where you were gripping the counter.  Unassuming didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of harm. 

“What do you need from me?”  He asked.

You swallowed, and your eyes finally met his.  Mickey could have cried.  You looked… small.  The feared Naval aviator he knew so well had been replaced with someone else.  Someone hurt, clearly because fear wasn’t an emotion you willingly showed.  In all of a few seconds you’d become human.

“Einstein,” he repeated in a slow, gentle voice.  “What do you need from me?”

“I have a restraining order on that man.”  Shame, which Fanboy couldn’t comprehend why, lit your eyes.  You turned back towards the bar.  Eyes trained on the pile of lime peels.  “For stalking.”  

Boundary issues seemed like a serious downplay.

Mickey slid behind you to shield you from view of anyone approaching.  He brought an arm around to rest against the bar.  To anyone else, this would look flirty, but really Fanboy wanted to give you the ability to whisper to him without anyone else overhearing.  “We should get you out of here.”

You shook your head.  “I don’t know where he is.”  The way your voice broke, broke Mickey’s heart. What did he do to you?  “I don’t want to move if I don’t know where he is.” 

“Okay.”  Mickey nodded.  “If I tell you where he’s at, then we’ll figure out if we’re using the back door or the front door.” 

He keeps his eyes locked on yours, searching your face for any sign that you heard him.  Gears turned behind your eyes.  Emotions clicked away, compartmentalized to deal with later.  You were using your training.  Adrenaline killed if not dealt with effectively.  

“You okay?”  He whispered.

“I don’t want you to look away.”  Selfishly, Mickey nodded.  He didn’t want to look away until he felt confident he wasn’t leaving you to drift about in your anxiety alone.  “I have to… to get myself under control.” 

The bartender passed by without a glance in their direction.  Conversation around them continued loudly.  As far as Mickey could tell, no one paid you two any mind at all.

“You’re doing a great job.”

You closed your eyes.  “Thank you, Mickey.”  When you opened your eyes, any trace of fear vanished.  Einstein, the Navy’s top aviator, would do what everyone else on a particularly traumatic mission did - deal with the emotional shit later, and eliminate the threat now.  “Ready to go?”

Right now?  He shouldn’t be shocked.  When you were in action, you didn’t hesitate. 

Mickey nodded.  Now was as good a time as any.  He held out a hand and helped you step around the barstool.  You clung to him, the only impression that Brent’s appearance still had you rattled.  It didn’t seem like a good time for Fanboy to peel himself away from you.  Having a hand on you might be smart anyway.  You wouldn’t get separated as you made your way through the crowd.

“There you are.”  

Brent stood an uncomfortably close foot away.  His teeth weren’t sharpened fangs, but his smile cut Mickey to the core regardless.  This was worse case scenario - coffin corner.  “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, but my calls go straight to voicemail.” 

Hands still clasped, the two of you turned to face him.  You stared straight past him, right over his shoulder.  Only when it became clear you couldn’t pass by without him being able to lay a hand on you did you acknowledge him.  “Brent.” 

The grin grew.  Mickey straightened to full height.  He wished he had the intimidating extra few inches most of the others on Dagger Squad had.  Brent’s eyes slid Mickey’s way, down to your enjoined hands,  but snapped back up to Einstein quick.  Like you’d vanish given the slightest opportunity.

“Please move.”  Your voice gave no room for further conversation but Brent made an attempt anyway.

“Went by your place, but your windows were dark.”  

A pit of unease grew in Mickey’s stomach.  Einstein had been going through this all on her own.  None of them knew the baggage she carried.  Some squad they were.  He glanced your way, but you had the same blank look on your face.

Brent barreled on.  “Key didn’t work in the lock.  The one you kept under that stupid garden decoration was gone.”  His eyes bore into your face.  Too aggressive to be considered making eye contact.  Fanboy had only ever seen a power display like this in interrogation training.  “Did you move or something?”

You lifted a shoulder in a noncommittal shrug.  “If you’d like to contact me, you’ll have to do so through my lawyer.”

The mere implication Brent was breaking his restraining order changed the set of his jaw.  Muscles feathered and he pressed his lips together.  “But,” he said around a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “I’m here now.  Look.  This is the last time, I swear. I just need closure.” 

“If you’d like to contact me, you’ll have to do so through my lawyer.”  You gripped Mickey’s hand a bit tighter and moved to step around Brent, but he sidestepped in your way.  “Please move.” 

“It’s a public bar, darling.  I can stand wherever I fucking please.”  All attempts at playing nice slowly started to drip away.  “You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

Darling.  Mickey’s stomach rolled.  He felt your hand jerk backwards but neither of you could back up without the bar digging into your back.  Brent seemed well aware of such a fact.  He took a lazy step forward.  “Whenever you want to ditch this one-” he spoke about Fanboy without sparing him a glance- “I’d like to talk to you.” 

Enough was enough.  Fanboy stepped forward with intent.  What exactly said intent was he would figure out halfway through the confrontation.  He wasn’t exactly known for his foresight in his personal life.  The only thing that stopped him was you tugging him back.

With one small squeeze, you removed your hand from Mickey’s.

“You can talk to my fucking lawyer.”  You used the same sickly sweet voice Fanboy heard you use on higher up’s that refused to take you seriously.  “Until then, you need to move.  Now.”

“Can we just talk outside?”  Brent asked.  He reached out to grab for your arm, but you dodged his advances.   

“Please, do not touch me.”  Your words were firm and flat.  “I don’t want you touching me.” 

“You owe me the courtesy of a conversation.”

Mickey never wanted to white knight on your behalf, but there wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to let this douchebag get anywhere near leaving his sight with you let alone get all the way to the front doors.  He could handle you being mad at him for fighting a battle for you.  He couldn’t handle what would happen if you took on a fight like this by yourself when you didn’t have to. 

“Can we talk outside?  Or are you going to keep letting your friends gaslight you into thinking I’m always the bad guy?”

When you failed to answer, Brent rephrased his question.  It seemed your lack of emotional response wormed its way under his skin in a way he couldn’t hide. 

“Can you stop being such a bitch and answer me?”  He asked, reaching out once again to put his hands on you.  A mistake.

Everyone in the bar fell silent at the dull ‘thack’ of your fist connecting with Brent’s cheek.  Somewhere in the wide arsenal of cinema there was a scene just like this that ends in an all out brawl.  Here Brent’s head snapped to the side thanks to the sheer force you packed in a single punch.  He blinked in disbelief.

Mickey, on the other hand, saw the first forming a while ago. He wasn’t one for violence, but watching you remind everyone you weren’t one to take shit always made his mouth water. And watching you throw a punch may just be the hottest thing he’d seen all week.

Excusing, of course, the fact that your creep of an ex boyfriend still stood there in front of you with a dumbfounded look on his face like he had no clue what he could have done to deserve that.

You cleared your throat.  “I asked you not to touch me, please.” 

Fanboy grew tired of the niceties.  The second you looked towards him for help, he was telling Brent to fuck off and he wouldn’t give him any choice but to listen.

Payback paced behind Brent.  He inched close enough to catch Fanboy’s eye.  Mickey and Reuben could always reasonably assume the other’s thoughts without words.  Half the time they only talked because they liked to hear themselves speak.  One look from Fanboy said everything, though.  His wingman was headed out the front door on the phone with the cops in an instant.

All Fanboy had to do was keep things from escalating. 

Brent straightened, eyes shifting around to all the Navy’s finest, and brought a hand up to where you punched him.  For a second, Mickey foolishly thought he would swallow his pride.  Brent looked ready to tuck his tail, turn on his heel, and run out of the Hard Deck.  

No one said anything while they waited for Brent to respond.  If he left, no one would bother him too badly.  If he didn’t take the warning punch seriously, Mickey could almost bring himself to pity the poor fool.  Almost, but not really. 

Creepy smile devoid of emotion in place, Brent reached out politely once again and, this time, caught ahold of you.  “I’m not leaving until I get what I came for.”     

At the sight of Brent gripping your arm, the sound of your first name falling from his lips, Fanboy’s self-control snapped.  This thin string holding himself together split.  

His fist flew up faster than he could process.  Brent’s teeth clacked as his jaw came together.  Fanboy clipped your ex’s chin in the perfect uppercut, and he dropped straight to the floor.

Unconscious.

You, who talked so highly of this ex those few weeks ago that Fanboy convinced himself you were still in love with him, turned to Mickey with panic written across your features.

“You punched him!”  You shouted to Mickey, eyes flickering between your ex on the floor and Fanboy.  The angle wasn’t the slightest bit flattering for the poor guy.  

Fanboy couldn’t remember the last time he punched someone square in the face.  He’d forgotten the way pain blossomed behind his knuckles and webbed its way up his arm.  Assault and battery charges were the last thing on his mind.  Honestly the only thing on his mind when he threw that punch was you.

“You punched him first.”  Mickey shrugged.  He shook his hand out in a gesture he hoped passed as nonchalant.  Pain lingered, though, and he couldn’t help but grimace when he flexed his fingers.

“I had a reason.” 

“So did I.”  You crossed your arms and arched a brow.  Mickey sighed and stepped over Brent’s unconscious body.  “He didn’t respect you clearly stating you didn’t want to be touched.” 

“I was handling it.” 

“I know,” he said, and shrugged.  “I just handled it with you.” 

You opened your mouth to argue, but, when your gaze moved from Brent to Fanboy one more time, he could see gratefulness.  “I have to call my lawyer.” 

—

Those bright red knuckles of yours had yet to fade.  From the sound of it, Mickey could guess you’d hit his cheek bone and would be sporting some nasty bruises for a while.  He didn’t bother to look at his own hand.  It throbbed to an annoying degree.  The chances of his knuckle being split was exceptionally high, but your well being in the moment mattered far more. 

Neither of you wanted ice for your hands.  Fanboy hoped it would make him look tough.  You had been more preoccupied with leaving a voicemail explaining Brent had broken his restraining order and the police had been called and “to please call me back as soon as humanly possible.”

Then you both collapsed in a booth in the furthest corner possible of the Hard Deck because you wanted to see when the cops walked through the door rather than tuck yourself in the back.  Fanboy refused to stray far.  You hadn’t asked him to leave, which he took as a good sign.  At least you weren’t too mad at him for stepping in.

“That’s one hell of a right hook you’ve got there.”  

He hoped to ease the tension with a teasing joke.  In classic Fanboy fashion, he misread the timing. 

“My lawyer is not going to like this one bit.”  You dragged a hand over your face.  The one with the angry knuckles.  “She told me, ‘If he breaks his restraining order, you can’t just punch him.  As much as he might deserve it.’”  

Mickey smothered a grin.  He wanted to throw out a joke about you being the only one to find a lawyer who talks like Bob, but instead he motioned for your hand.  

“Here.”  A towel of half-melted ice sat next to him, waiting for the opportune moment for Mickey to refuse to let you suffer any longer.  You extended your hand across the table for him to grab.  He set the ice down gently, muttering a soft “sorry” at your hiss of pain.  “You handled yourself pretty well out there.” 

You made no move to take the ice pack or your hand away from Mickey.  So he sat there, icing your hand, and watched you wrestle with your reaction.  Fear, anger, grief, aggravation.  They all shuffled over your features like Payback trying to pick a song from the jukebox.

Eventually, you settled on a classic.  Humor as deflection.  “I think I’d feel better if my punch was a one and done.” 

He lifted the makeshift ice pack and made a show of inspecting your knuckles.  “I’d say you packed a pretty good punch.” 

That same shy, flirty smile from earlier came back.  “Thanks, Mickey.”

“Of course.”  Any attempt to appear cool shattered the second he saw the gratefulness in your eyes.  “I hope I didn’t overstep.  I’m not really up to date on the laws surrounding restraining orders or stalker exes.” 

You shook your head with a self-deprecating laugh.  “I don’t think you would be.  You don’t strike me as someone who would ever turn out like Brent.” 

“If I do, you have full permission to punch me.  Whether your lawyer advises it or not,” he teased, and relief flooded him when you laughed.

“It isn’t self-defense to punch someone violating their restraining order.  No matter how scared I was seeing how he found me.” 

The tone in the booth shifted towards seriousness.  Any trace of a smile on your face vanished, and you curled your fingers around Mickey’s hand.  “I used to live out in Texas.  Stationed there so often, I rented out an apartment because living on base didn’t feel permanent.  I wanted a place to call my own.” 

Mickey glanced out towards the bar full of the Navy’s best.  Payback stood watch over Brent, who had finally come to and was arguing with the wall that was Rooster, Hangman, and Bob.  

“He followed you from Texas?”  He asked.

You nodded.  Whatever you attempted to say got lost in the tears welling up behind your eyes.  “Sorry.”  You swallowed and blinked rapidly to clear the emotion from your face.  “I saw him around town a few times, but this was the first time I felt like he actually knew where I was.  Like it was more than a coincidence.  When he talked about coming around to my place… there’s this part of me that can’t tell if he was talking about back in Texas or where I live now.  It’s terrifying.” 

Fanboy hoped the cops would hurry up.  The sooner Brent could get out of here, the better.  One punch suddenly didn’t feel like enough, and if Mickey threw another he didn’t think he’d be able to stop.

“And there’s a good chance I’ll be charged for assault.”  Your laughter was ice cold.  “I shouldn’t have reacted like that.  I know better- god, I’m so fucking stupid.” 

Mickey squeezed your hand, drawing your attention back to him, and shook his head.  “You are not stupid.  He put his hands on you.” 

“That’s not self-defense either,” you sighed.  “He wasn’t attacking.  The cameras are going to show him reaching out with a smile and he’ll, at most, get a slap on his wrist.  I’m screwed.” 

“He was attacking.”

“Did you not hear what I just said?  He wasn’t attacking.” 

“He.  Was.  Attacking.”  Fanboy emphasized every word, then gestured to the bar you were in.  “There’s at least 20 people I can count who will give that same story without needing to be asked.  I’m sure Phoenix and Bob are already out there waiting for the cops so they can be the first to let them know what he did.”

You turned to look at the crowd of people, mouth quirking up into a smile when you spotted the rest of the squad keeping Brent on the other side of The Hard Deck.  Fanboy watched your gaze lock onto the camera capturing the man acting like a saint for the sake of the security camera in the corner of the room.  

The smile faltered.  “You really think so?”

“You’re one of us, Einstein.  We don’t care what base you’re coming in from.  You’re assigned to our squad and we take care of our own.”  

Mickey moved the ice pack and released your hand back to you.  “Don’t worry about the security cam footage, either.  The cops tend to take our word at face value.  Plus, Penny’s got a good reputation for not calling unless it’s warranted.  There hasn’t been a single bar fight she hasn’t sorted out herself..”

“That feels…”

“Like how Maverick would handle something?”  He supplied.

You nodded with a laugh.  “Exactly.”  Your eyes traveled over Mickey’s face.  “I appreciate you handling things with me today.  I’ve been dealing with this on my own for a few years now.  I forgot what it’s like to know someone has my back on the ground instead of only in the sky.”

“I’ve always got your back, Einstein.  Ground, sky, and all areas in between.” 

The opening practically presented itself to him in the way you smiled at him.  

“Look, I know this might not be the best time or anything…” Mickey trailed off.  He cleared his throat in an attempt to keep his nerves at bay.  What kind of moron decided to ask someone out immediately after an incident like this?  “But, after all the statements are taken, would you, maybe, want to take a walk along the beach with me?  Just get out of here, get your mind off everything?” 

You sat up straighter in the booth.  For once, Fanboy wished he wasn’t alone with you.  If Payback were here, he could confirm if your eyes actually lit up at the proposition or if Mickey’s wishful thinking clouded his mind again.  

“Are you asking me out on a date, Mickey?”  You asked.  His name passing over your lips, over the teasing smile spreading across your face, rendered him speechless.  

He cringed.  “I’m an idiot, right?”  Nervous laughter escaped him.  “I mean, I planned on asking you out tonight anyway.  If that changes anything.  I don’t want you to think I’m, like, stepping in to take advantage of a bad situation.  You can tell me no, Einstein.  I know it’s been a… I mean, the past hour has been a lot.

“But I don’t want you to be alone while you’re dealing with all of this.”  He turned in his seat to glance around for Phoenix.  “Should we call Nat over here?  Would you rather talk to her?  I’m serious, this doesn’t have to be a date.  I didn’t mean to overstep… What?  Why are you laughing at me?” 

You sat across the seat, hand smothering the giggles slipping through your smile.  “Am I rambling again?”  He asked, and you nodded.  “Sorry.  I’m usually better at dealing with emotional situations like this.” 

“I’d say you knocked it out of the park today,” you joked.  Fanboy could only groan at the pun.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit.  Mickey hoped the flush on his face appeared to be alcohol induced rather than his lapse of judgement.  Your phone sat between them, screen still black while you waited for your lawyer to get the voicemail and call you back. 

“It took you long enough.”

He tilted his head.  Much like how you did when you first walked in today.  “What?”

“Asking me out,” you clarified, “that took you a while.” 

“Is that a yes?”

You threw your head back and laughed in a way Fanboy never heard you laugh before.  A mix of elation and pure joy.  Maybe the sound of your voice saying his name could be his second favorite sound.  That laugh needed to be bottled away in his memories forever.  “Yes,” you said.  “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“I really like you,” he said, then, after a moment’s consideration, he tacked your first name at the end of the sentence.  It only felt fitting.

[kelltonic]

Defences ★彡

Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia x Reader

Description: While at the hard deck with the other daggers, Mickey - your boyfriend - get’s heavily flirted on by a stranger when you’re not around, and he is never more committed to shut someone down.

Warnings: Alcohol/Drunkenness, very light sexual harassment (fem on man). Canon-typical asshole Hangman. I love Reuben. Fanboy is a sweetheart. Other than that it’s just an established relationship and fluff. No use of y/n.

WC: 1,500

A/N: Guys if you want more Mickey (or any top gun) PLEASE request - I have been struggling for ideas lol - even if it’s just another version of an already made fanfiction with a different character, or a headcanons prompt!! - ALSO for anyone who read my prev a/n on my other fanboy ff, I GOT 100% ON MY ENGLISH EXAM!!! I actually started tweaking out (it was creative writing). We don't talk about my other exams though.

“Oh come on!” Mickey groaned while throwing his arms in the air, physically complaining over the miss he just hit in pool. “The tables gotta be uneven or something.” He said, mostly jokingly.

"Don't be bitter that I'm just better." Reuben shrugged, flashing a cocky smile to tease his best friend with.

After a long day of flying, most of the squadron retired to the most familiar place on base, the Hard Deck. A comforting yet bustling bar that welcomed naval aviators with open arms.

"Now that's funny-" Fanboy was about to start, but was quickly cut off by that oh so familiar southern drawl.

"Boys, boys, let me show you how a real man shoots." Hangman mocked, condescendingly snatching the pool cue out of Fanboy's hands while simultaneously shooting a wink to one of the many attractive women scattered around the bar. Payback's face formed a frustrated expression as he leaned back to watch what Hangman would do. Hangman did this more than anyone would like. Preferably, he'd never interrupt the games for some silly flirting exercise, but something about Jake couldn't live without the thrill of the tease.

Fanboy was about the opposite, despite what his callsign may allude. Sure, before he met you, he would throw around a few pick up lines and enjoy the spotlight whenever a pretty girl noticed him. But now? He is duller than a rock if someone tries to get a piece of him. You're his favourite person in the entire world, and he makes sure you know it - as long as you promise not to tell Reuben. He can't have another passive-aggressive flight because Reuben decided to teach him how significant of a role he plays in Mickey's life. He would rather jump out of his plane mid flight than let you think you meant anything less to him.

So when the girl Hangman had been flirting with had finally approached him with her friends who had been giggling like hyenas at the squadron the entire night, he just went to get another round.

He looked back from the bar to see the girls clinging to various daggers while waiting for the drinks, chuckling at the sight of Reuben getting surrounded. He didn't think anything of it until one of them separated and began approaching him.

But he didn't want to assume anything, she may just be coming to do the same thing as him.

"Hey handsome." She giggled, leaning against the bar next to Fanboy. Welp, there goes the lack of assumption.

"Hi." He responded bluntly, giving a brief polite yet not hinting smile. All that warranted was a giggly and flirtatious response.

"Come here often?" She said, clearly a little tipsy if not anything further. She scooted closer to him, practically brushing him. As much as he wanted to make space between him, the bar was particularly crowded and he honestly didn't want to bother the aviator directly behind him.

"Yeah a bit, most of us frequent this bar the most." He said with a dry sigh, averting eye contact. He couldn't help but wish Penny sped up with the drinks, but he would never in any lifetime say that to her and face her (and Maverick's) wrath.

"Come on pretty boy, loosen up." She giggled while gripping his arm, trying to push their bodies flush together.

"Okay no thank you." He quickly spoke, lightly pushing her away. He was uncomfortable, and couldn't help but feel guilty despite the fact he had done nothing wrong. "I have a girlfriend." He stated, easily plying her hand off his arm.

"Is she here?" She said while staring into his eyes playfully, unbothered by the physical signs he was presenting.

"No?" He said, puzzled by her persistence.

"Then she doesn't have to know." She responded while trying to close the distance again.

"Here ya go." Penny interrupted with a small smile, placing a tray of various alcoholic beverages in front of them before dashing off to another patron. all Mickey could think was 'oh thank goodness' as Penny saved him from this uncomfortable and awkward encounter.

He grabbed the drink tray and flashed the girl a small, awkward smile as he sped walk to the full group again.

"Ayy!!" Reuben and various others bellowed, grateful to see another wave of drinks. "Our saviour." He joked, taking a beer.

"On land and sky." Mickey responded, placing the tray down while grabbing himself a beer. It only took a few awkward shuffles from Mickey for Reuben to detect something was off, despite his current state.

"You good?" He asked with a smile, tilting his head as he carefully watched Mickey's reaction.

"Yeah, yeah, I just feel... dirty." Mickey murmured, the guilt of another woman's attraction to him weighing on him like an elephant.

"Dirty? Or like.. dirty." Reuben repeated, shifting from a playful to serious tone.

"Dirty." Mickey echoed, reaching for his phone in his back pocket. "...One of the girls was flirting with me. Hard." He elaborated.

"Since when was that a bad thing?" Reuben scoffed, before a wave of realisation hit him. "Ohhh... right, okay." A neutral tone flowing through his voice. It only took a second for a puzzled expression to take over his face. Mickey had to admit one thing, Reuben was one of the most expressive people he's ever met.

"So... why do you feel bad?" He mocked, a slight laugh leaving his mouth. "You didn't flirt back.. right?" Reuben questioned. He knew how utterly enamoured Mickey was with you, he had to get his callsign from somewhere. But he couldn't help but seek clarification.

"No!" Mickey swiftly reacted after taking a gulp of his beer, a frankly offended expression covering his face.

"...." Reuben just stared, a little dumbfounded at Mickey's loyalty policies. Despite a hint of respect also developing, he couldn't help but laugh at Mickey's commitment to you. And his standards for what counts as something he should feel guilty for or not. However, Reuben was also observant. Even if he wasn't, it would still be easy to tell how sad the thought of someone else flirting with Mickey made him. Someone other than you. But his trance was interrupted by an exaggerated sigh.

"Okay, look. I'm only ever going to say this once, so listen up." Reuben began, placing his beer down as he forced eye contact with Mickey. Landing a hand on his shoulder, he groaned as he realised what he was about to say and the possibility of Mickey never letting him live it down. "You're attractive. Really damn hot, man. Both physically and personality wise. You have good energy and people are naturally drawn to your confidence and kindness. So you're gonna have to get used to the idea of people, women included, approaching you and flirting." Reuben stated, more teaching than hyping.

Mickey was conflicted between smiling and teasing Reuben. "Come on man, that's the nicest thing you've said to me." He said with a chuckle as his shoulders dropped and his gave Reuben a quick hug before he potentially got bitch slapped by him.

"Okay off." Reuben scolded, pushing Mickey off of him with a forced groan.

"...I'm still gonna call her though." Mickey quickly ushered while typing in your contact on his phone, which just elicited a 'why do I even try' motion from Reuben as he walked away.

Your phone rang a couple times before you got the chance to pick it up, busy with an email.

"Hello?" you spoke seriously, forgetting to check the caller ID.

"Babe!!" Mickey spoke, excited to hear your voice. He always sounded ecstatic whenever you two spoke.

"Hey baby, what's up?" You spoke warmly, a complete shift from your initial greeting.

"I just wanted to tell you I love you more than anything in the entire world. Even flying." Mickey spoke quickly, not for a lack of authenticity.

"I love you too... why are you calling to tell me this?" You said with a small chuckle, it wasn't uncommon for Mickey to randomly declare his love, especially over the phone due to distance. It was however rare for him to do it at this late hour.

"Some girl was flirting with me. BUT! I didn't at all entertain it for a second." Mickey emphasised, he was only slightly tipsy but the honesty made you giggle. You would never in a million years have to worry about his loyalty, and this is one of the reasons.

"Well I appreciate that." You responded softly, the yearning for his presence briefly satiated by his voice. All you could hear on the other end of the line was a low giggle, as far as you could tell he could very well be twirling his (non-existent) hair and kicking his feet.

"I miss you sweetie." You whispered with a gentle desire from the heart.

"I do too, but you'll never guess what Reuben said to me." Mickey said with a chuckle, you could practically hear his smile, and his longing.

A/N: Bit of a corny ending but I didn't know what else to do lmao.

Started: 12:00am Sunday 22nd of June Ended: 8:00pm Thursday 26th of June

[theclassifiedfan]

HI TOP GUN FIC WRITERS!

So I’ve got some inside knowledge on the workings of Top Gun or more so the military in general (specifically SD military) as I’ve been lucky to work at both Miramar and North Island as well as been deployed on a ship. So thought I’d share for anyone writing their stories and wanting to use it when thinking of ideas or even getting into the writing phase:

DISCLAIMER - I am a civilian and I mostly worked with the marine corps, but I’ve got 13 years with the USMC and 1.5 with USN along with a lifetime of San Diego Navy Brat in me. While I would love to think I’m an expert always feel free to fact check some things.

I’ve made sure all information shared below is public information to not allow for any CUI to be mistakenly released in accordance with OPSEC.

Use what you want & ignore what you don’t want, love reading your stories either way you creative people!

MIRAMAR INFO

Quick History:

Formerly NAS Miramar (est. 1952) and now MCAS Miramar (est. 1997), this is the main hub for Fighter Jet aviation in the San Diego area but strictly Marine Corps Aviation now. Of course some branches touchdown and fly through but there are no active navy squads. This base is relatively close to the water cause it’s San Diego but it’s 4 miles inland so it is land locked and depending on traffic about 30-45 minutes from NASNI (not 4 hours like I read somewhere once). This is the OG Top Gun base, a lot of the places in that original movie are still there but VERY different because it’s been updated quite a bit and the marines own it now.

Their aircraft on base are:

F/A 18 Super Hornet - Very cool, TGM jets

F-35 B&C Lightning - EXTREMELY COOL JETS, these babies are very top secret but are publicly known for their vertical landing capability. Can technically takeoff vertical (but limited in that aspect)

KC-130 Hercules - big support planes used for aerial refueling and other support missions

CH-53E Super Stallion - Awesome Cargo helicopters that move large loads and equipment

MV-22 Osprey - If a plane and a helicopter had a baby! These incredible fixed wings use tilt rotors to vertically take off/land and then tilt those propellers forward for flight (If you haven’t seen one transform check it out they’re amazing). Used for troop transport, special operations, and humanitarian aid.

NAS NORTH ISLAND INFO

Quick History:

Commissioned in 1917 and recognized as the birthplace of Naval Aviation in 1963 it’s a beacon of navy pride. Now, time to mess with some Top Gun Movie canon: this base has never had USN Strike Fighter Tactics Instructor Program (aka Top Gun). Maverick was filmed here, but the program lived on Miramar when it was founded in 1969 and then was relocated to NAS Fallon in 1996 (shoutout Fallon, and they filmed out there BUT Nevada is boring why base their story out there when it could be based here). NASNI is now a master helicopter base, there are no active fighter jet squadrons on north island - but I believe they host them across branches here and there!

Their aircraft on base are:

MH-60 Seahawks - Incredible helicopters that are used in so many missions such as anti-submarine warfare, anti-surface warfare, vertical replenishment, passenger and cargo transfer, and search and rescue capability

V-22 Osprey - the same the Marines use but now being adapted into North Island. Again very cool aircraft with the best (and worst) of both worlds as a fixed wing and a rotary.

Learjet 35 - comfortable transportation aircraft

C-40A Clipper - basically a military 737

NAS LEMOORE

I won’t put too much info in here because I know it’s not the “cool canon movie base” but I will note this is the navy’s west coast Master Jet base since its commission in 1961! It’s in Kings County/Fresno County.

OK NOW LET’S ‘FACT CHECK’

Again take what you want from my ramblings these are just some things I notice in fics that contradict actual military policy and life. But even the movies don’t follow that, so just take these as tools for writing ideas!

Navy = Sailors (Pilots = Naval Aviator)

Marines = Marines

Army = Soldier

Air Force = Airman

Mix these up and someone could get annoyed with you and they’ll often correct you on the spot. Think of the branches like fraternities or sports teams - yes they’re playing the same game but they love to compete against each other. Plus they’re high key frenemies.

There’s a strict dress code on base including in the Gyms

Attire should be conservative and modest, with no revealing clothing, undergarments visible, or items designed for undergarments at all times. For the girls it’s even more rules because of course it is so no mini skirts, no cleavage, no crop tops. Some bases take this more seriously than others and you can get in trouble for it.

In the gym you have to have shirts on at all times, no booty shorts, absolutely no wearing only sports bras, no stringer tank tops and all that jazz.

Beach is fine though cause it’s the beach, and don’t worry I get it people wanna like good in their fics so slay away lol

Fightertown is not an actual town

It’s also not north island, it’s still Miramar. That was the nickname for the base itself so it stayed there with the marines that took it on in 1996. Plus a good way to keep the history of Fightertown united and in its OG place.

You cannot be permanently stationed anywhere in the US Navy.

You go where they want and need you. Some fics talk about the daggers becoming a full time squadron which honestly could happen, as squadrons come and go all the time however from my experience pilots have to move every 2-3 years and the daggers would be changed out. There’s some cases where they can request to “fleet up” to stay in that squadron or even bounce to another squadron and stay in the same spot but that’s a wish that cannot always be granted.

Dating in your squadron has consequences

In the U.S. Navy, while dating another sailor in your unit is generally not prohibited, it could potentially lead to a transfer or other issues if certain conditions are met. There’s a very strict fraternization policy which prohibits relationships that compromise the chain of command, good order, and discipline.

One aviator dating another aviator sounds fine because they’re two officers who tf cares, but there’s a very high chance one of you will be sent away if they feel it risks the unit/squad. Note how I say if they feel, you might be fine with it and it might be you two get along great but if a higher up says no - someone’s gotta go.

Also no officer enlisted, there’s technically ways around this like if they were married before or dating before but in the same command? Forget about it. BIG no. Could be a cute Romeo and Juliet thing forbidden love - this is just talking on the reality of it.

Civilians are not allowed on base

Unless they are directly being escorted on base by a service member or they are a dependent/civilian employee with their own credentials they are not coming on base. Even if they ask nicely and say you know so and so, this has been even tighter since 9/11 but in the past few years it’s gotten much more strict. There are Air Shows on bases which open them to the public but without that there’s pretty much no chance you’re getting on base. If you did then someone is getting their ass beat.

The Hard Deck is based on the I Bar

While the Hard Deck is fictional (although the set they made which is very real and somewhere locked away on north island) the I Bar is very real! Amazing place and they have someone who’s their version of Penny and has been working there for a very long time that the aviators love along with their other awesome bartenders.

Those rules in the bar are pretty close to the real ones which are:

“He who enters covered here buys the bar a round of cheer” (you aren’t supposed to wear a uniform cover or hat anywhere inside although some places let hats slide not here though they will ring you)

No phones on the bar

No hats/covers on the bar

Don’t touch the planes! It’s in the movie as well but the real bar has authentic donated model planes that they added this rule to make sure they live a long life without being broken.

There’s no official “disrespect a lady or the navy..” but it’s unspoken - the guys in there will call you out and there’s some very high ranking people who go frequently and you don’t want them catching you pulling that in their bar.

Now another new thing is that they can’t “make you pay” anymore so if you violate a rule they’ll ask if you’d like to. That being said they added this rule because of the influx of people wanting to see the bar because of Top Gun but the pilots HATED THIS and you will piss off a lot of aviators for not following their traditions. But if you do pay up? So many new friends lmao

Used to be an officers/aviators only bar, but it’s open for everyone who has access to the base.

North Island is not its own Island

NAS North island is a base located on the island Coronado. It’s a navy heavy island mixed with a lot of very rich people. Houses are not cheap and neither are apartments, so there’s not a high chance you’ll see anyone O4 and below living on the island unless they have roommates or they’re a chief that’s been in the navy for a long time. They’d probably live downtown or off island if they wanted to live alone or TRY to buy a home. (Houses here sell for at least around a milly in most places)

There’s some bars on the island as well including one bar called “Danny’s” which is a well known Navy Seal bar because there’s a Seal Base also located on the island more toward the long strip that connects the island to Imperial Beach.

The Naval Academy is not where pilots are made

I’ve found a few fics where they talk about Bradley going to UVA and then the Naval Academy but the USNA is a college in itself. It’s not typically transfer in type of school because if you go that route you start from the bottom as a freshman.

But to be an aviator you do not need the academy. There’s two other routes to becoming an officer which is ROTC and OCS:

The way I suspect Rooster went is to go to a normal university that has an ROTC program and complete it which leads straight to commissioning right-after graduation.

OR graduate any school like normal and then apply to officer candidacy school (OCS) where if accepted you’ll do an officer version of basic training. Which to be fair if that’s the route he took I’d be pissed at Maverick too because that means completing school in 4 years plus whatever amount of time it takes to apply to OCS with the preference of aviator (which is super compact) and can take anywhere from about a year to multiple vs into the academy and good to go.

Once they complete one of the three and are qualified via testing to be an aviator they’re off to flight schools, of which there are many to come.

(Also you could make it to flight school and get dumped out because of maybe not hitting the mark, or even medical stuff that they missed/skipped before - then get transferred to a different type of officer job)

Gold Star kids - AKA Rooster

Gold star kids are those like Bradley who lost a parent due to death during their service, and they do not get to stay on base once their loved one passes. They’ll have a certain amount of time to find a home then move off to make space for another active duty family. BUT the surviving spouse if they’re civilian usually (I believe) retain their benefits for the rest of their life. Not the kids though they get kicked off healthcare at 21 unless they’re still in school enrolled full time and their parents are more than 50% financially taking care of them. It’s all kind of intense and very sad but it’s true.

Dependants are not all nice

NOTE HOW I SAID NOT ALL. There’s some fantastic people but it’s not all sunny and perfect. I’ve worked in the recreational, support, and retail aspect of military bases and the horror stories I could tell you about certain military dependents. Crazy, some of them are literally insane. But could be used for some interesting dramatic aspects of your stories. I’d put examples but I have too many to name.

Pilots don’t fix their planes

Yes they have to learn the ins and outs of their planes and they’re absolutely tech savvy as well as extremely smart. BUT you will not see a naval aviator working on a plane, they have enlisted sailors who work hard and go through a lot of training/school to do that and they deserve their roses. They’d probably kick their officers ass if they saw them taking a wrench or tool of any type to those planes. Pre flight inspections are different to maintenance. That reminds me…

ENLISTED SAILORS EXIST IN AVIATION

I feel sad that fics/stories leave them out in the workplace. They have really great bonds with pilots because pilots can’t fly without them and put all of their trust into them. The sailors and chiefs are the best in their fields and often are credited for being the ones who teach officers because it’s true - think like this:

An officer commissions to O1 (ensign) after earning a bachelors degree which is on average around 21/22. Depending on how they commissioned they may not have worked any college jobs (some have never worked a job at all) so this is their first job and they are in charge of people plus millions of dollars worth of equipment. That’s not including the 2-3 years it takes to pass flight schools.

Enlisted sailors can start service at 17. They’ve been in their jobs going to schools and mastering their trade for a hot minute. They’d often can be the same age of their officer (let’s say 23 for an aviator who went through flight schools) and have 6 years of service in their belts, they know the game.

The best leaders I’ve met in the military know how to be that leader while also learning from their sailors. That bond of trust both ways is crucial for success.

Some ships have WiFi

But it can be limited, it also can get turned off for any reason at any time if it means keeping the ship safe. So could they text and call/FaceTime? On a carrier for sure UNLESS they’re in need of turning it off for a while. Super great for sailors to stay connected honestly wish they’d had that when my dad was in.

Call signs often are not a cool brag

Usually it’s from a time you fucked up and now it’s stuck with you so everyone can have a laugh. You can’t change it and you can’t pick one yourself. That’s not to say that can’t be from cool moments but the ones I’ve met it’s been from funny moments with their squad.

I think the only way it could get changed is if it was really bad like one you couldn’t say in front of an admiral without getting in trouble. I think they usually change those to ‘redacted’ or try to make it an abbreviation so it’s not immediately obvious it’s a fucked up nick name. The ones from back in the day were super messed up. Or maybe you ranked up high enough to change it cause who’s going to tell a Captain what they can or can’t do.

ADDED FACT CHECKS:

It’s Naval Air Station (NAS) North Island NOT Navy Air Force Base/Station North Island/North Island Air Force Base/Air Force Naval Base

Two different branches completely. I do understand why people would put this and this is not me attacking people but I would very much suggest not combing the two because a naval aviator is capable of something Air Force pilots aren’t:

Landing a plane/helicopter on a ship in the middle of the ocean.

They train like crazy to have this skill and let me tell you landing on that thing is no easy feat. Naval Aviators (and Marines they get qualified in this too!) deserve that hype because the risk that takes comes from so many people in a plane and on deck to succeed in? INSANE. I’ve been in Tower (primary flight control or ‘pri-fly’ for short) and there’s so much that goes into this process including collaborating with the people driving the ship. I wasn’t even in an active combat zone so idk how this legends do it with people shooting at them.

All love Air Force Pilots, they could probably be trained to do it - however they aren’t soooo… FLY NAVY 😈

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

Oh man that was A LOT of info. If you’re reading this? How’d you make it this far? Also hope it helped in someway or another to spark some ideas. I’ve debated writing some kind of story haven’t gotten the courage up but YOU ALL ARE AND YOU ARE AMAZING AT IT!

[jasperhaleluver]

fanboy smut?

Yesss I've been waiting for this one! I've only ever written smut like once so I'm sorry if this is bad. I hope you guys enjoy!

Mickey fanboy Garcia x reader smut!

author's note: hi guys! I hope you enjoy this any feedback or requests are welcome. Thank you!

warnings: MDNI! 18+, mentions of alcohol, squad gets drunk, making out, smut (p in v) semi-unprotected sex? just not super reliable protection, fingering, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), aftercare, overall just smut!

no mentions of y/n, no word count, not proofread. sorry about any typos.

You were out at the hard deck with the crew, it was passed 10:30 pm on a Saturday night. You and Phoenix are sitting in the corner eating some chips and salsa while the guys are playing their hundredth round of pool.

Your phone chimes and lights up, you pick it up and see a text from your roommate. "At Jack's tonight. There's pizza in the fridge, get home safe." Ugh, of course. Sadie is your roommate and she's always spending the night at her boyfriend Jack's house.

Well it's nice to have the house to yourself, the silence is really comforting. And you can just walk home it's not too far. But you just were unsure of tonight. You sigh and set your phone down and watch the guys play their game. Gosh they are all over the place, Hangman and Rooster are singing their hearts out, Payback and Coyote are trying to keep playing but they can't even hold themselves up from how drunk they are, but then there's Bob and Fanboy. Sober and just enjoying the night.

You think fanboy is so damn cute, you've had a crush on him for a while now. You've been friends for a while and you guys are actually really close. You've even slept in his bed, not like that of course but there's been nights where you guys just hangout for so long that it gets late and he somehow convinces you to spend the night. But he would never think about you in that way.

"You're staring" Phoenix says kicking your foot to snap you out of your thoughts. "Oh." You can feel your cheeks heat up from embarrassment and you wipe your face. Phoenix chuckles and stands up. You look over to the bar and see Penny cleaning up, so it's about time to leave. You go around the pool table and the stools, you're picking up all of the empty beer bottles. They clatter together as you walk to the bar and throw them in the trashcan by the bar. You grab a rag and walk back to your area and you wipe down the messes.

"Oh hey thanks you didn't have to clean up SOMEONE's mess." Bob chuckles as he eyes down the four drunk guys. "It's no problem really, I've got no rush to get home." You return the rag and see that fanboy and Bob are struggling to get the drunk ones out to their cars. You and Phoenix go over and help them, you take rooster from fanboy so he can handle hangman.

"Woahhhh who is this pretty ladyyyy." Rooster slurs as he stumbles out the door with you and he moves your hair out of your face. "Bradley, stop it." You say and his smile fades. Everybody knows that if you're not called your callsign then you need to knock it off. Especially when it's with you. Fanboy helps hangman into the backseat, he shuts the door and opens the door on the other side for you to help rooster in.

You give fanboy a smile and help rooster in, he hits his head on the way in and hangman starts laughing. The two guys start bickering about random shit and you shut the door on them. "Have fun with these two." You laugh as you walk back inside to grab your phone. You say goodbye to Penny and walk back outside to see that Phoenix has already left with Coyote and Payback, Bob is just leaving the bar too. "Need a ride?" He asks walking towards his car. Fanboys window is rolled down and Bob sees his facial expression indicating that he was gonna ask you. So Bob doesn't insist when you say you're fine to walk. He tells you to be safe and he drives off. You noticed fanboy still hadn't left, you imagined he's just trying to get the guys settled.

You start walking as you put your hands in your pocket, it's kind of chilly. You reach the end of the parking lot and fanboy drives up to you. "Hey let me take you home, it's 11pm you're not walking home alone." He says "it's okay really, I enjoy walking." You say starting to walk away. "Fuck." He mutters, he looks around and turns on his emergency blinkers and he gets out of the car. He grabs you by the arm "seriously, you're not walking home." He looks you straight in the eyes. God he looks so good.

"Okay, fine." You give in and let him walk you to the passenger seat, he opens the door for you and shuts it too. He gets in "you can help me walk these to their front doors too. God forbid Carole thinks I did something to her baby boy, it seems more trusting if she sees you too." he laughs nodding towards the two in the back. You look back and see the two sound asleep.

You guys arrive at Hangman's house first, fanboy walks him all the way inside since he lives alone. He takes a hot minute inside, seems like he's probably tucking him into bed.

"He really likes you." Rooster grunts as he sits up straight. "What?" You turn to look at him. "Yeah I mean the way he looks at you- uh it just.. yeah-" rooster manages to say but falls back into his deep sleep. "What the fuck" you sigh and lean your head on the window.

Fanboy is finally back and you guys are back on the road, you eventually make it to Rooster's house. Both you and Fanboy get out of the car, he helps rooster out as you make it to the front door. All of the lights are still on so Carole is definitely still up waiting for him. You ring the doorbell and she immediately opens the door. "Hi sweetie!! What's happened?- she asks but cuts herself off when she sees fanboy with roosters arm over his shoulder. "Bradley Bradshaw! What has gotten into you!!." She yells in her mom voice. "He's in good hands Mrs. Bradshaw, we made sure to get him home safe" fanboy says letting go of rooster. "Get inside" she sternly says. Rooster stumbles inside and Carole thanks the two of you and follows rooster.

"You ready?" Fanboy says heading to his car, you hum and silently follow him. Again the gentleman opens the door for you and shuts it after you. You guys drive off on the way to your house now. He makes small talk on the way there, nothing fancy. He pulls in to your driveway and sees that it's empty.

"You alone tonight?" He asks. You start grabbing the door handle to get out as you mutter out a small "yeah".

"I don't know if it's a good idea for you to stay alone." He says, you get butterflies at the idea of spending the night with him. "Can you stay?" You ask. Before even giving you an answer he takes the key out of the ignition and says of course.

You two walk up to the front door, your hands shaky and sweaty as you shuffle your keys to unlock the door. You walk in and fanboy follows you in, he goes and sits on the couch. You hang up your keys and sit by him. The silence is comforting but a little bit awkward. You sigh and lean against the backrest of the couch.

"Well tonight was eventful." He says also leaning into the couch. "Oh it sure was." You chuckle. He suddenly sits back up like he just thought of something. "I need to tell you something." He says looking straight at you. "Okay..." You say looking up at him admiring him. "Okay I don't know how to say this. So I'm just gonna- he leans in just centimeters from your face. You can tell he's about to kiss you. You break the gap between you two and you lean in for a kiss. He grabs your face and kisses you deeply.

His hands snake down to your waist pulling you closer to him, he sits back, bringing you closer. You bring your leg over his and straddle him not breaking the kiss. His hands go further down and his hands are all over your lower back and your thighs. You reach down to the hem of his shirt and you swiftly take it off of him. He puts his hands back where they were, he goes a bit too low causing your hips to buck upwards basically grinding on him. You can feel how hard he is under you.

You keep slowly moving your hips causing a groan to leave his mouth. Your lips trail off to his neck, your hands are all over each other as you nip and suck at his neck. You get even lower passed his chest, your hand lands on his belt buckle. You look up to him for reassurance and he just nods his head. Your hands shuffle to take his belt off and unzip his jeans. You palm his bulge from over his boxers.

He helps you bring his boxers down and his cock springs out. You bring his tip to your mouth giving it a small lick as you feel him shiver under you. His hand is on your head as you take all of him in your mouth. You move your head sucking him off. His tip touches the back of your throat causing you to gag and your eyes get watery. "oh-it's okay baby." he moans as he caresses your face. You move your head faster, making him a moaning mess under you. "fuck. fuck oh my god you're perfect baby." he pulls you off of him, his cock falls out of your mouth with a "pop" sound.

Not letting himself cum, he brings you back up to his lap and connects his lips to yours once again. But this time, not breaking the kiss he stands up and carries you down the hallway. You can feel his hard cock even over your jeans. He opens the door to your room, holding you with his other hand.

He sets you down on your bed and he starts kissing at your neck. His hands snake down your waist and get to the bottom of your shirt. He slides it off, revealing your red bra. He puts his hands on your chest. "Can I?" He asks going for the straps of your bra. You nod and sit up for him to unclip your bra. He takes it off and as soon are your breasts are free, his mouth immediately latches to your chest while he plays with your other boob.

"God you drive me crazy." He says kissing down your body. He reaches the button on your jeans and you lift your hips up to help him take them off, revealing red lacy underwear that match your bra. "Well somebody had plans for tonight." He smirks. You let out a shaky laugh and you slide out of your underwear.

He continues kissing down towards your thighs. He taps your thighs signalling you to bring them up, he puts them over his shoulders and keeps kissing in between them. He slides his fingers through your folds. "So wet just for me baby." He says as he suddenly sticks his finger inside of you. His tongue latches onto your clit at the same time

"Oh!" You moan at the sudden feeling.

He adds another finger, curling them at a faster pace and sucking your clit. Your hand is on his head for something to hold onto. (His curls aren't grown out so you can't pull on them.)

You can feel yourself nearing your climax, you pull his hand that isn't inside of you off of your thighs and pull him up towards you.

"I want to cum with you inside of me." You say kissing his neck. "Yeah baby?" He says kissing you.

He gets off from on top of you "Do you have condoms?" He asks. "Fuck, I don't but I'm on the pill it's okay." You say bringing him closer. He sits back leaning on your headboard and you get up on top of him. You stroke him a few times before aligning him to your entrance, your free hand is on his chest as you sink down onto him. "Oh my god." You moan as he stretches you out.

He leans his head back as he grips your thighs. "Oh baby you feel so good." His hands are all over your thighs and your ass. You start rocking your hips as he still holds on to your thighs. You love seeing him like this, his mouth open, his eyes closed, and his eyebrows knitted together.

You keep riding him and you're kissing down his neck, the burning sensation in your legs hurts so good. You stop for a second to relieve the burn but he grabs your thighs and starts pounding up into you.

"Oh! God mickey! Ugh!" You moan as you bury your face into his neck. "Ugh. Oh God " he moans. The sound of moans and your skin slapping fills the room. You can feel yourself about to cum.

"Mickey I'm gonna cum!" He's still pounding into you "Let it go baby. Cum for me princess." He says. You moan loudly as you ride out your high, he still doesn't stop as he's nearing his climax too. He lets out a load moan as he cums inside of you.

You ride out your highs together as he still holds you. He stops moving into you and just holds you for a second, still inside you.

"Oh my god, you're perfect." He says moving hair out of your face. You lean up and kiss him. He lifts you by the waist so he can pull out. You both moan as he pulls out. He moves to grab his t-shirt from the floor to wipe off your inner thighs. He cleans himself up and lays back down by you.

"Come here." He says bringing the covers over him. He opens his arms for you to lay on him.

"I really like you." He says putting his hand on your head. You're laying on his chest with your arms around him. "Really? I didn't know." You chuckle. "Well I really like you too." You say sitting up and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Be my girlfriend." Mickey says looking straight at you tucking your hair behind your ear.

"Of course." You smile and lean in to kiss him.

Okay guys I hope you liked it!! I'm not sure how good this is but any feedback is welcome!!

[missmarveledsblog]

it's fate ( Bradley Bradshaw x reader )

Summary : from a young age carole bradshaw always told her son meeting his father was fate , it was like she knew he was the one from her , now older bradley starts to think of fate when he see's a beautiful face everywhere until one night she comes to the hard deck and well fate can be funny .

warnings : none , some fluffy goofy fun with the hawaiian shirt wearing aviator

Since he was a young boy to his earliest memories , his mother told him of soulmates and fate the way she met his father. even after his fathers death when love wouldn't be the first thought , yet Carole bradshaw told her son of true love instilled the idea into the young boys head . back then he told her girls were gross and yucky , then he got older he didn't see the fate or true love so he just put it down to his mothers love stick and broken heart rambles . his whole life he never thought of fate or true love well that was til her. He didn't know her name , nothing and yet when everywhere he went she was there .

At first it wasn't anything yeah he thought she was hot at a glance but never thought he would see the pretty stranger again . how wrong was he everywhere he went she was there . when he was entering the gym she was leaving , when she was entering the cafe he was leaving . Not once did he speak to her nor did she speak to him but this had to be something more ,he saw her more to point he was completely and utterly enamoured. the words his mother spoke finally making sense and for once in his life bradley felt shy almost unsure how to approach a woman like it was something he's never done before .

His friends the fellow members of the dagger squad were honestly over it , they heard of the mystery woman one times too many . How he was sure she was next mrs bradshaw he just needed to find the right way about it .

" what if the last time you seen her was the last time? Or what if she's a stalker " fanboy questioned .

" or if she exists i'm starting to think the g's are getting to you chicken , i doubt she'd be stalking him c" jake snided barely breaking his glance from the game before him to know he was irriatating the hell out of his friend.

"she's real bagman nat's seen her few times" .

" back of her head if that counts but she real" nat mused .

" and you rooster who probably only one of us who slept with the same amount of women as bagman hasn't done a thing about it ?" payback asked .

" next time i see her because well it's ... " he started .

" FATE" They called in unison .

" well i'll make a move " he smirked and sort of new found determined to prove them right.

" yeah or i'll show her a real man" jake snickered ignoring the glares being sent his way .

in all the talk of fate it seemed to be knocking as the bell above of the door rang out and it was like it called to him . when he stared in disbelief as he watched her walking in the doors . he couldn't believe they couldn't deny it now not when it was so obvious.

" there she is the next ..."

" do not finish that sentence chicken " jake stood only to see the woman in question eyes hit his .

" JAKE SERESIN YOU DUMBASS" she yelled the whole bar going quiet as she stormed pass.

"mrs bradshaw? " bradley whisper watching the girl he been pining after heading toward his friend , enemy it was a day to day thing between the two .

" i would ask if you were dropped on your head as child but i'm starting to think momma played basketball with that big ass head of yours " she growled.

" what i do now ?" he asked trying not to glare and feel sort of sick knowing this was the woman bradshaw was moping about .

" well one sleeping with my coworker she won't talk to me now and the fact you keep stealing my keys" she huffed.

" lets talk outside" he groaned watching . " don't need my little sister yelling all over damn bar".

" ohhh .... OHHH" nat eyes widened at sudden realisation of the scene before her.

" hey you look familiar" she stood looking directly at rooster only for jake to push he out to the door before another word could be exchange.

" so hangman's sister is your future wife man this fate stuff is absolutely amazing " nat broke out laughing as the other joined in .

" is really fate if she was there to see hangman like the gym and stuff" javy snorted.

" well fate is funny isn't alway cut clear but that was the future mrs bradshaw i am telling you guys and you all gonna look dumb at our wedding shit" bradley mumbled slightly questioning everything in the moment .

" you ain't marrying my sister chicken , she is off limits ... even to fate " jake huffed sitting back in his spot.

......

he tried to stay away really he did he pretended not to see her going as much to cross to the other side of the road . well it lasted one day but hey he tried or so he could tell himself that. standing in the bakery , his day well wasn't going to plan , the new recruits were dumber than a box of rock . it was one of those morning where if he wanted to go left he'd end up somehow going right so instead of going to the canteen for lunch he decided to enjoy his own company one where he wasn't listening to his fuck ups that were oh so hilarious to his friends . standing in line ready to order his pick me up when he heard that voice. one that had him cursing his mother in a busy cafe queue.

" iced caramel latte and ohh one of those brownies thank you" her voice god dam it was like some milk of magnesia sort of shit so smooth and calming and yet a little husk to it pair with the accent he hated to hear from bagman yet suddenly was loving the way it came out of hers .

" americano shot of espresso and three brownies thanks " he nodded trying to talk lowly.

" hey don't i know you" the voice called. yet all he could think was " wanna know me" but instead he just said:

" i was there when you yelled at bagman" a smile and his eyes soften instantly turning.

" yeah not first or last time .. looks busy in here tables filling fast i'll save you seat.. ?" she smiled brightly waiting for him to tell him his name.

" brooster...wait no it's radley .... am i having a stroke shit my name is bradley bradshaw" he felt his cheek heat up and his brain screaming at him calling him a dumbass.

" well bradley brooster radley .. names y/n seresin i'll see you over there" she laughed god even her laugh made his knee week and she didn't run from his clear frazzled brain moment and secretly thanking his mom in the line of a coffee shop .

he was almost begging his body not to trip or fall and make himself look like more of an idiot then he already did . she wasn't lying when she said it was busy and moment he walked to the table already staring down the man who was going to make his way over.

" well brooster you got enough brownies " she giggle as he place the small tower on the table .

" hey im a growing boy it's needed" he winked .

" do y'all ever grow up?" she teased.

" i'm more grown than your brother i would never steal your keys".

" why would you have them ?" she smirked .

" i was just erm ... god my brain is out for me today" he laughed breathlessly .

" i'm kidding so what brings you here .. other than its best place in this state" she asked softly.

" well it's my favourite spots , the coffee isn't watered down and it got a warm feel to it like cosy god i sound like a hallmark card" he sighed only for her to giggle he was never tired of hearing it , honestly if it got that reaction and sweet sound he was going to make more of an idiot of himself. the two talk away , talking about her work as a kindergarten teacher , he would talk about being in the navy . it was perfect once he got over the weird start . he was having so much fun he barely notice the time slip away til his phone began dinging away .

" shit i better get going but this .. this was cool" he stood .

" yeah it was .. maybe you would like to do it again" she smiled softly holding out her phone instantly he took it putting his number in watching as he called himself the two walked to the door only for her to be heading to same way .

" i swear i'm not following you look see the corvette that's mine" she snorted seeing how it looked .

" you like vintage cars?" he always yelled in disbelief .

" i do jake calls them flintstone mobiles " she rolled her eyes.

" well not to brag or anything the bronco beside it well that's my baby" he smiled proudly.

" well look at that looks like fate i met you today radly brooster bradley" she called out heading to her car . " i'll call you later" .

" well i'd be a sucker to turn down fate" he winked watching as she drove off . " yep that my future wife" he shook his head knowing he was going to have to deal with hangman sooner or later .

part two

A.N:Let me know if you want a part two but this was fun to write .

[munsster]

the dagger squad as love island tropes

A/N: guess who is hooked on the new season of love island usa. guys i know it’s not as good as last year. and yet, here i am, 10 hours deep and still going strong.

Pairing: Dagger Squad x GN!Reader, Love Island AU

Jake “Hangman” Seresin

The Lone Wolf

a tease off the bat. finds a way to make out with all the ladies in the villa within two days. keeps his options and his mind wide open. everyone knows he’s trouble, and he loves a flirt (someone who can dish it right back). deep down, he is looking for a true connection, one he had a hard time finding elsewhere. he’s the most judgmental bitch on the island, and he knows he’s found the one when you can talk shit together. he’s also hesitant to close off his coupling too soon because of the nature of the game, but he shares a moment with you in soul ties that could have him changing his mind.

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

The Husband

knew the second he saw you that he’d end up with you. and yes they are that annoying ass couple attached at the hip from day one. in it 10000% for love and devotion bordering on obsession. everyone’s like “don’t you think it’s a little soon to close off?” but he thinks it’s very normal to be exclusive after three days on the island. doesn’t care what people say or what bombshells try to distract him, he’s absolutely hooked and has no plans to leave this couple. has a hard time curbing his jealousy when someone goes in to kiss you during a challenge. but it’s all part of the game, and you remind him that whatever happens, you’ve got each other.

Javy “Coyote” Machado

The Bombshell

he’s one of those bombshells who is truly not afraid to “step on everyone’s toes”. is not fucking around about this game, but also genuinely looking for a connection and someone he can laugh with. all the boys are intimidated by his charm and his looks when he first enters the villa. takes a while to find his groove but eventually meets the partner of his dreams. loves flirting over a game of table tennis. prefers cuddling to kissing, but loves to sneak pecks when nobody’s looking. has a hard time getting over his nerves at first, but realizes he is high value once he’s finally appreciated and loved by his partner.

Natasha “Phoenix” Trace

The Confidante

plays it confidently and strategically. becomes the closest with the rest of the ladies, she’s the one everyone goes to after every kiss/fight/breakdown/etc. she’s reliable and good for a secret. she uses the information to her advantage where she needs to, weighing her romantic options wisely based on what she knows from the rest of the players. keeps her options open while still relying on her original coupling. she knows she made a good choice and decides to trust her original instincts. finds someone who she can trust to share information and secrets to. she’s reliable sure, but she needs someone else to rely on sometimes, too.

Reuben “Payback” Fitch

The Wildcard

he’s reserved and in it to win it. takes his time to really get to know everyone but always has a trick up his sleeve. nobody knows what to expect after a few challenges reveal juicy truths about his personal life no one expected. doesn’t have a problem being single and is comfortable going with the flow, playing the game how it’s meant to be played. brings all the singles breakfast (and flowers!) regardless of whether or not he’s planning to couple with them. ends up having really deep conversations with his top choices and is always honest about his openness. knows friendship is the foundation for every great relationship, and finally settles into the coupling that he feels the most natural with.

Robert “Bob” Floyd

America’s Sweetheart

truly in everybody’s corner. he gets really shy for the camera at first, but everyone adores him (even ariana). he knows how to make everyone laugh and finds his hidden talent in pep talks and cheering people up. every new bombshell is obsessed with his sweetness, and all of the originals always speak so highly of him. while he’s not as outgoing as the other guys, he’s not too worried about ending up single. he knows he’s met some really great people on the island and made memories he never would have gotten to. of course, when he finally does meet his person, it’s instant. you are intelligent and quick and witty, and he’s speechless. it all comes together so naturally, he feels utterly complete with you.

Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia

The Accidental Love Triangle

does not know how or why this happened to him, but it’s definitely keeping him on his toes. right from the beginning, he was excited to fall in love. he adores both of his options for different reasons. in the end, he has to choose who he sees a future with. he’s in it for love, and a partner who is going to see him through. understands that this game is about more than physical attraction. he’s loved actually getting to know the person he eventually ends up with. feels devastated for the other person, but it all ends up okay when they’re met with a new bombshell who sweeps them off their feet. and he’s ecstatic with his choice, it’s cuddles every night and soul ties every day.

top gun masterlist

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

The Island: Entry 1

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

A Lost AU

Mood Board

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Gore, Violence, Swearing, Death, Alcohol, Plane Crash, Various Inaccuracies

Authors note and TW: This story does depict a plane crash in quite a lot of it so please be aware 💛 especially now with all of the recent accidents worldwide, just wanting to put an extra precaution out there so as not to surprise or upset anyone!

——————————

18+ Only

——————————




A roaring sound roused Bradley from a dream, a dream where he was souring through the air in his favourite F/A-18, the sunset beautifully cast along the ocean below, someone behind him lovingly squeezing his shoulder, someone he longed for but whom didn’t know yet.




The roaring sound blared loudly even from far away, and Bradley strained to open his eyes, the bright light burning his sensitive retina. He covered his eyes as he sat up, his bed hard and lumpy, and he blinked several times to adjust.




Suddenly he realised his bed wasn’t a bed after all, but a stony jungle floor, matted with rotting leaves and sand and soil.




Bradley looked around, confused and dazed and trying to find the source of the horrible noise. He was surrounded by trees and the stark stench of leaf rot, the faint smell of the sea and… jet fuel.




He realised suddenly that the roaring wasn’t even that, it was a whirring, the sound of a jet engine struggling to keep itself in the air. But was it in the air?




By the volume and steadiness of the sound Bradley could only think the engine was no longer in the sky, and he scrambled to his feet as vague memories began to come back to him.




His leg was badly bruised and he thought he may have a broken rib or two, but he scrambled through the jungle as fast as his body would take him, the noise growing louder.




As he neared, he began to hear screaming, so much screaming, now just audible over the jet roar as the thick of the jungle turned to sparse bush, and Bradley fought to keep himself composed, braving himself for what he might see.




The beach was long and windy, blue ocean stretched on for what seemed like forever, and Bradley quickly realised he wasn’t on any sort of mainland. Bodies littered the white sand and the front of the plane, pinned onto its side by a boulder, sat ablaze, towering, the engine angrily trying to keep itself alive.




Bradley took but a split second to take in the damage, panic so close to taking hold, when he spotted Jake Seresin crawling out of the sea, coughing and spluttering as he collapsed to the sand.




He ran over to him, quickly helping his friend further up onto the sand and away from the water.




“Hangman…” was all Bradley could get out.




Jake coughed again, taking deep, painful breaths as he lay on his back. “Where’s…” another cough, “where’s everyone else?” He just barely murmured over the noise.




Bradley knew he meant the rest of the boys they had been travelling with.




Bob, Javy, Reuben and Mickey.




“I don’t know… I’ll be back.” Bradley left Jake to gain his strength as he stumbled to his feet, wincing at the pain in his side.




He took a second to watch the chaos, people screaming over lost loved ones, running to get as far from the wreckage as they could before it inevitably exploded, others helping the injured, or rescuing suitcases from inside the burning hull.




He walked closer to the plane, hoping to recognise someone, anyone, when the sun glinted against a familiar pair of glasses.




“Bob!” Bradley cried hoarsely.




Bob couldn’t hear him, too close to the engine, helping a woman free her leg from a heavy metal beam.




“Bob!” Bradley called louder this time, “You gotta move!”




Bob lifted his head and relief washed over him as his eyes landed on Bradley.




“Help me move her!” Bob called, and Bradley hesitantly eyed up the wing of the plane that hovered and bowed treacherously over Bob’s head.




“Fuck.” Bradley mumbled to himself as he limped quickly towards Bob, dropping to his knees with a wince once by his side.




After a quick assessment of the situation, the leg pinned and pierced to the ground, Bradley grabbed Bob’s shoulder.




“We gotta dig her out, and we gotta do it quick, this thing’s about to collapse.”




Bob nodded and the pair began to dig into the sand beneath the woman’s injured thigh, little by little lowering her leg out of the bar that pierced through it.




The wing groaned under its own weight and the breeze that tormented it, threatening to snap off at any second, the sound mingling with the woman’s agonising cries.




“Faster!” Bradley grunted as he cupped the sand and threw it to the side with a speed that left him dizzy, the movements worsening the pain he was in.




The woman screamed as her leg slid off the bar and blood sprayed out, covering Bob and Bradley. They hooked their arms in hers quickly, shuffling backwards in the sand to pull her to safety.




Barely out from beneath the shadow of the wing, a large creak and snap echoed across the beach as the wing buckled under its own weight, plummeting with a deafening crash onto the ground below.




Bob and Bradley watched in horror mere feet away. Even a couple of seconds more and they would have met their untimely end.




Bradley was having a hard time coming to to grips with the situation, barely even able to remember what had happened before the crash, and he felt dazed.




“Rooster, Bob!” Another familiar voice rang out, Reuben.




The pair sighed with some sort of relief as the tall man helped them to their feet, pulling them in for a hug.




“Shit guys, I thought you were gone.” Reuben’s voice cracked, audible even over the chaos.




“We… we need to move her to the shade, see if there are any doctors or…” Bob stopped to wipe blood from his face, staring at his hand in shock.




“Yeah, help me move her.” Bradley winced as he bent down to hook his arms under the unconscious woman’s armpits. Bob carefully hooked his arms under her good leg and they haphazardly carried her to the trees.




Placing her gently down, Bradley left Bob with her so he could try and find someone who could help.




Bob was already prepping a tourniquet with some fabric and a stick, and he spotted Jake and Reuben by the shore, turning bodies over and trying to separate the dead from the living, helping where they could.




Javy and Mickey were nowhere to be seen, but there were so many people, dead and alive, scattered across the sand, that it would be difficult to differentiate faces, especially in the state he was in.




People screamed through the pain of broken limbs and burns and cuts and his eyes drew him across the beach, scanning over as many faces as he could, and that’s when he spotted you, down in the distance.




You were beautiful but frantic, hair a mess and clothes bloodied, as you tied a piece of ripped fabric carefully around a little boys arm to stop him from bleeding.




You winced as the boy cried, Bradley couldn’t hear you but he could see you apologising, telling the boy you had to tie it tight for just a little while.




Without realising he was moving, Bradley began to stumble over to you, stepping over discarded suitcases and debris, the deafening sound of the engine mangled painfully with the agony in the voices of people crying for help in the jungle and at the shore.




“You’re gonna be okay… you’re gonna be okay.” You mumbled, unsure of yourself, as you stroked the little boys head, “I’m gonna find your mom, you just need to stay here. Okay? By this tree.”




The boy wailed inconsolably, dirty face streaked with tears.




Bradley winced as he knelt down next to you, forcing a smile at the little boy, “Wow, look at you! You’re so brave, you’re gonna have a cool scar to show off to your friends real soon.”




The little boy slowly stopped crying and looked up at Bradley curiously. You did the same, taking a second to breathe as he spoke.




“You can tell people you fought off a tiger.” Bradley winked, and the little boy began to giggle.




You eyed Bradley up suspiciously but we’re also relieved to have some help.




“Hey, you stay here, I just gotta borrow your friend for a moment okay?” The boy nodded and Bradley struggled to his feet, clutching briefly at his side. You looked at the blood on his t-shirt, wondering how badly he was injured.




“Oh… it’s… it’s not me.” He winced again, one eye closed as he fought through a wave of pain, “There’s a lady up there with a through-and-through pole wound to her leg, there’s a lot of blood but one of my guys has got her in a makeshift tourniquet. I guess I was hoping you’re a doctor?” He asked anxiously.




You nodded, “Well… not a people doctor, I’m a Veterinarian.” You had been in practice for 5 years, but you were still always unsure of yourself.




“That will be fine, we just need someone with more experience than we do.” Bradley nodded, hands on his hips. In the chaos, you and Bradley stood just staring at one another for a moment, almost relishing in the brief peace it brought.




“Well… I’m gonna need to find a sewing kit, I reckon a lot of these people will need it.” You made a start towards the blazing hull where the scattered suitcases lay a strewn. He followed you, hoping you’d give him instructions or tell him to do anything that would make him feel less lost.




“Anything else?” Bradley rose his voice as you and him got closer to the whirring engine.




“Any medicine you can find, even if it belongs to someone, we can divvy out important meds later, but we need a stockpile of antibiotics and anti-inflammatories.” You were using your logical brain now. You knew even if you were going to be rescued, it would likely be a few days, if not longer before anyone came, and people were going to get sick or infected. “And alcohol… lots of it.”




“Okay… Wait, what’s your name?” Bradley called out as you walked away.




You turned and gave him a soft smile, something steady in the chaos, “Y/N, but you can just call me Doc. What’s yours?”




Bradley grinned through the pain, “Bradley, but my friends call me Rooster.”




You chuckled, “I won’t ask.” And with that you turned to find a sewing kit amongst the debris.




Bradley was sure his heart was racing because of the agony he was in, not because of you… he was sure of it.




—————————




*Flashback*




“Sorry, excuse me.” You pardoned yourself as you shuffled past rows of seats with your clunky carryon, trying to make your way through the busy airplane isle to stow your bag above your seat.




You had gotten an earlier flight home from Sydney than expected, the job interview you had been so excited for having not gone to plan. You were frustrated and irritable but in a way you were glad to be going home.




You stowed your carryon above you seat, and plonked down heavily, a deep sigh as you relaxed into the cheap fabric. You hadn’t had much sleep since arriving in Australia, which you wanted to chalk up to jet lag, but surely that would make you want to sleep more? It was likely the anxiety of the looming interview, and that if you got the job you’d be uprooting your entire life to move, but it would have meant big things for your career.




You were beyond disappointed when you showed up and the owner of the practise turned out to be a pervert. You had never felt like you’d wanted to crawl out of your own skin until that day, when he implied on several occasions during your interview that you’d need to keep him happy to get anywhere in his workplace, and to put the icing on the cake, his hand found your rear end shamelessly as he showed you out.




“I do hope you’ll accept our offer and join us, sweetheart.” He’d winked at you as you left, his beady eyes grotesquely eyeing up your behind.




You’d immediately booked your flight home, feeling as though you’d wasted a trip but desperately wanting to get out of there, despite how beautiful the country was and how you longed to spend the week on a beach.




You closed your eyes as the flight took off, hoping for sleep to find you.




You must have dozed off, because before you knew it you blinked your eyes open and the plane was darker, cosy ambient lighting dowsing the whole cabin in soft orange. You closed your eyes again, body stiff but eyes heavy, keen on getting a few more hours sleep.




Your throat tickled, and you coughed softly into your arm to clear it, settling back and stretching, trying to find a comfortable position.




The scratchy feeling continued, and you tried to discreetly clear your throat without making too much noise, but you couldn’t, so you opened your eyes and took a sip of water from your bottle.




A few others coughed, and your first thought was that someone had brought a cold onto the plane and you groaned internally. You swallowed to try and coat your dry throat, but you began to cough more, alongside almost everyone on the plane.


Suddenly there was a commotion at the front of your section and someone jumped out of their seat.




“Fire! There’s a fire!” The man shouted.




You realised with horror that the soft orange lighting was not ambient LED strips but rather a fire in the hostess kitchen, and you coughed on the smoke that began to fill the cabin.




You unbuckled your seatbelt quickly, standing at your seat and readying yourself to help extinguish the flames if it came to it, blanket at hand.




The air hostess’ rushed to the kitchen and were quick to put the fire out, apologising to the passengers as they passed by and wafted the thick smoke towards the vents in the ceiling.




A few seconds later, interrupting the distressed murmurs of the stressed out passengers, the beep of the intercom sounded and the captains voice echoed throughout the cabin.




“Sorry folks, it appears there may have been a small fire in the hold caused by a faulty wire, which had spread to one of the hostess kitchens, but the fire has been put out and there does not appear to be anything other than superficial damage. Complimentary drinks will now be served as an apology. Please rest assured everything is-“




Before he could finish his sentence, the plane jerked violently, sending several hostess’ into the laps of passengers and a collective yelp sounded.




You quickly sat back into your seat, your heart in your throat as you fumbled with the buckle. “Shit, come on.” You mumbled as the buckle kept slipping out, refusing to click into place.




Another violent bout of turbulence sent bags flying out of the stow holds, knocking some unconscious in their seats. People began to scream and you continued to fumble with your seatbelt.




“Everyone please get back to your seats!” An air hostess tried to instruct calmly, “It’s just a bit of turbulence as we go over the pacific-“




Another big bump and she went crashing backwards, hitting her head on the wall and she fell unconscious to the ground. It was now full blown chaos, people screaming and clambering over seats, buckling in unconscious loved ones, trying not to fall over as the turbulence grew more and more violent.




Your seat belt was not playing nicely, it had finally clipped in, but now the tightening buckle wasn’t holding in place, causing the belt to slip. You pulled the belt tight and held it in your hand as best as you could, hoping it would be enough to pin you to your seat.




You could feel the plane plummeting, and your bum lifting off of the seat as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to drown out the screams of panicked passengers.




Suddenly there was deafening snap and your breath was sucked out of you, as the side of plane tore off. Your eyes shot open in terror and you caught a brief glimpse of blue and then green before you blacked out completely.




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- Entry 2 Here -

Taglist:

@randomfangirlof @scarletseresin @halflifejess @bradshawbaby