#this happened in the hangar guys i was there

[toytulini]

i do love my car it is the perfect car aside from the. imperfections and frequent problems,

[classicjdiesandgoestohell]

my first exposure to homestuck was in 2014 as an 8 year old when my best friends older sister would show us comic dubs, amvs etc. i was obsessed with them and always wanted to go over so she could show me new ones 😭 i thought that blue lips was written specifically for homestuck until i found regina spector on my own when i was 11 and promptly was like OH YEAH!! that comic i tried to read when i was 8!!! then i read homestuck for realzies and ive been trapped ever since. im 18 now also.

bonus: there was that one gamzee fan song (little clown) that i found so terrifying in 4th grade... me and my friend would lock ourselves in seperate rooms with the lights off until one of us got so scared we'd go get the other LMFAO

the youngest i've seen was a 12 year old girl who joined a homestuck discord server i was in, i think most of the fanbase are adults who got into hs as teens but there are always new kids + teens getting into it as well

[magics-neptunes-things]

Private Practice

Hi guys!

It’s a new one-shot for my series "Lia & The Firefighter", but like the others you can read this one without having read the others.

It's from a request here and I already have another one for this serie and that makes me very happy because I like this one :)

TW : None, I think?

For once, saying goodbye to Lia for your double shift wasn’t too hard. You knew that her and the Arsenal’s women team would come at almost the end of your shift to the fire station. After what happened to Frida during the finale for the ContiCup, Arsenal’s staff decided to organize a formation about first aid.

You have been with Lia for almost three years now, so the team heard about you several times and they all know what you are doing for a living. That’s why they decided to contact your fire station, after asking Lia if she was okay with that.

She was and you were too, of course. You love your job and being able to talk about it is always something you find great. You weren’t in the stand when Frida went down, but you are secretly relieved to know that people around Lia will be more aware of what to do if something happens to your girlfriend while you are not around.

Your shift was pretty calm this time, of course you had emergencies, but nothing was too complicated. You even had time to eat sitting on a chair, which is something you sometimes can’t do.

Before they come, you take a shower and wash your hair, wanting to be as prepared as possible. You help your Commander to prepare the things you will need for the course and write some reports to pass time.

“Y/L/N, they are here!”

You smile while you finish writing your last sentence before getting up from your chair. You know that you won’t be able to kiss Lia like you do when you go home but seeing her when you aren’t supposed to makes you happy.

You, your Commander and two other firefighters are present for the course. The girl and the team are already here when you join them in the hangar, where the trucks are parked.

You can’t help but look at Lia, who is beautiful as always. She calls you cheesy when you swear that you don’t even look at other women since you have her in your life, but it’s true. No one can fight with her. She’s your perfection.

“So, Y/N, which one am I not authorized to flirt with?” teases one of your colleagues.

“No one, if you don’t want to explain to your wife why you have a broken jaw.”

It makes him chuckle, but he stops really quickly when he sees your burning gaze. You are overprotective with Lia, it’s not something new for anyone. You never let her carry anything, you always cook when you can and you insist that she rests when you are both at home, pushing her to lie down on the couch while you are cleaning or doing the laundry.

But since you saved Alessia from that stupid man in a nightclub several months ago, you also started to go out more with them. They slowly became your friends and you have the tendency to protect your friends too. Nothing to do with how you behave with Lia naturally, but Alessia still started to call you her bodyguard since that day.

You address a wink at your girlfriend when she looks back at you, standing between Steph and Leah, before going back to your work face. Arms crossed on your chest, you listen to your Commander talking about how the emergencies are working. You already know that of course. But you are still listening, giving your Captain the attention he deserves from you.

“How do you let her leave the house when she’s dressed like this? She’s so hot” Kyra whispers in Lia’s ear.

Alessia next to her giggles and even if she slaps Kyra’s arm, Steph can’t hide the smile on her face.

You are not wearing all your uniform, only your fire pants and your navy polo, with your black boots.

“Leave her alone” Leah whispers, passing her arm around Lia’s shoulders.

Leah knows how secretive and prudent Lia is about your relationship; you are still a secret for the rest of the world. Only your friends and family know about you. You have to admit that it works perfectly for you too.

“Thanks” Lia mumbles to Leah.

“She’s right, though. This uniform is something else” Leah smirks.

Lia rolls her eyes and smiles too. Even if your job scares her to death sometimes, she’s still proud about you.

After those explanations, your Captain separates the team into three groups. You are assigned to the cardiac massage, while another group will go to theory and the last group will have false emergency scenarios to work on.

You greet the girls with a smile, you know them pretty well now. Caitlin and Katie are in this group, and you can’t help but smile when you realize that they manage to be together for that too. You know that Caitlin is Lia’s ex, of course. But you never had any problem with her, Caitlin always has been respectful and her having her own girlfriend now put an endpoint about any rivalry who might have existed.

Katie is in fact one of the girls you get along with the best. She teases you every time about your relationship with Lia, but she’s very fond of her girlfriend too. So, you don’t hesitate to tease her back and you always have fun together.

But today you are very concentrated, and the girls all have a little reminder about how impressed they were by you. Now they know that your closed face is a barrier to the world and that inside you are as soft as a marshmallow. And that you are wrapped around Lia’s little finger.

The second group includes Kyra with Kim and Steph, and you wonder if they put the young Australian with the two other women to make her behave. She’s in fact very concentrated too and is one of the best at cardiac massage.

“Pretty impressive” you say to Kyra after having checked the consistency of her massage.

“Thanks” she answers proudly before sticking her tongue to Steph.

You roll your eyes and smile, for the first time since you began the course. Seems like she can’t stay serious for too long anyway.

The last group comprises Leah, Alessia but especially Lia. You are eager to have your girlfriend next to you, even if you have to stay professional. Which you do very well to be honest, if the others didn’t know you were dating, no one could have guessed.

“Hi” you smirk at Lia when it’s her turn to do the cardiac massage.

“Hello” she smiles back.

Just like the others, you look at Lia working, telling the things to change when needed. You take on yourself not to look at her with your habitual loving eyes, keeping it professional once again. Even when her perfume tickles your nose and the fact that you could completely let your gaze go on the southern part of her anatomy.

The tiredness you usually feel when you are at the end of your shift isn’t here today either, thanks to your girlfriend and her friends.

After all the girls and the rest of the team have passed, you meet one last time in the hangar. Once again you listen carefully to what your Captain is saying. You just look quickly at the clock on the wall, happy to learn that you only have twenty minutes left before being authorized to go home.

Several minutes later, Arsenal’s team is leaving. Not without having a paper signed by your Captain.

“Wait for me?” you whisper to Lia when the girls come to thank you.

She smiles and nods, before leaving with the others. You look at her leaving, before turning to your colleagues.

“Nice of you to have kept your hand for yourself” one of them teases again.

You frown and open your mouth to answer but your Commander, still in the room, doesn’t hesitate to intervene sharply.

“I think there are still trucks that need to have their equipment updated. It will maybe be more interesting than gossip.”

Your colleague blushes but nods before leaving the hangar. You don’t flinch when your Captain turns in your direction.

“Y/L/N, you’re dismissed.”

You nod and hide a smile, thanking your Captain before leaving. You hurry to change and freshen up a little, before almost running out to find Lia. She’s waiting for you, standing in a corner of the yard. You can’t hide the smile this time, happy to finally have her for you.

“Hi Beautiful” you smile, passing your arms around her waist.

“Hi”

You sigh of well-being by feeling it against you, closing your eyes briefly. You missed her during those last two days, even if you were able to exchange some messages during this time.

“I missed you” you mumble, your face in her hair.

You let her cup your face between both of her hands, looking at you for several seconds before talking. You let her do it. You hated that when you started dating, but now you’re much more comfortable when she does it. It feels like she’s scanning your soul.

“How tired are you?” she finally asks.

“I’m okay. Why?”

“Would you mind showing me around the station?”

You hesitate for some seconds, before nodding and taking her by the hand. Lia never came inside the fire station, even if she has already picked you up from work several times.

“I need to ask my Commander before” you inform Lia while entering the fire station.

You don’t let Lia’s hand go when you enter it, going right to the office where you know you will find him. You wait politely for his authorization to enter after you knock, entering discreetly into his office.

“I was wondering if you would allow me to show Lia the station, my Commander” you ask, standing straight.

He gives a big smile to Lia. He always has loved her; you don’t know why. He even menaces you to kick your ass if you do something bad to her. But there is not a single chance in the world for you to do that. You haven’t told him that way, but Lia is the love of your life.

“Sur. Just be careful not to disturb your colleagues who are still working”

“Of course, Sir. Thank you very much”

You nod and offer him a smile, before grabbing Lia’s hand again to drag her outside the office. You hear him adding something just before you close the door.

“It was a pleasure to see you again, Lia.”

Lia giggles and the sound alone makes you smile. You take her against you to kiss her cheek, now you are alone there is no one to tease you. You can see her smile under your lips. She’s bashful about your relationship, but the tenderness between you is here at any moment of the day.

You take your girlfriend to visit the different rooms of the fire station. On the ground floor there are different garages and a changing room with some bathrooms. On the first floor, there are the different classrooms that Lia already knows because that’s where the Arsenal’s girls have spent their last hours. There is the cafeteria too and what you all call the living room. In this room there is a TV, a baby-foot table and some comfortable couches.

And on the last floor, there are bedrooms, showers and a balcony. It’s where you finish your tour, letting Lia look at the view. It’s not very amazing to be honest, the station is in the city. So, it’s basically buildings and cement.

“So? What do you think?” you ask your girlfriend after some minutes.

You smile when she turns in your direction again. She’s wearing her Arsenal’s outfit, but you love it inside. You can’t explain why you find her in a kit particularly sexy. She’s wearing a jogging today though, but she’s amazing anyway.

“It seems great” Lia smiles. “But I think I understand even more now why you crave a bath when you come home after your shift”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. Having a bathtub was one of your criteria when you were looking for an apartment. You told Lia once and she keeps teasing you about it. But she’s not wrong, you usually go straight for a hot bath when you come home. If Lia can be inside the water with you, it’s just like heaven.

You made her swear to keep your obsession for Lush bath bombs secret, though.

“Are you ready to go home?” you ask Lia.

“I am” she smiles.

She’s the one who takes your hand this time, but you follow her without any doubt. You just go to the changing room to grab your things before going to the parking lot to find your car.

“You are coming to mine, right?” you frown suddenly after having started the car.

“Yes, unless you don’t want me there” Lia smirks.

You don’t even respond, you just snort. If you could, you would probably spend every second of the day with her. And it seems to be a good enough answer for Lia, because your girlfriend only smiles and looks through the window.

A comfortable silence begins after that. And, just when you take a look at your girlfriend, you can only feel relaxed. There’s no place you’d want to be but here. You know you will have an amazing evening, with a bath, a homemade poke bowl just like Lia proposed to cook for you and definitely cuddles in front of the TV.

Once again, you couldn’t ask for more. Or better.

[ivybucky]

First Time - b.b. x gn!reader

Summary: You have a habit of calling people by cute nicknames or monikers, and Bucky isn't sure why it made him feel so good.

a/n: I'm breaking my hiatus finally!!! this is just a cute lil fic somewhat based on first time by hozier without the thought-provoking underlying angst. 1.9k

Content/Warnings: tfaws!Bucky, fluff, pining, tfaws fight scenes, zemo mention, multiple Sam appearances, references to fights/violence, use of y/n, use of the nickname doll when referring to the reader, friends to lovers? (let me know if i'm forgetting anything)

Masterlist

Believe it or not, Bucky Barnes tried to not think about his past. 

Though his efforts to make amends were a work-in-progress, and his name was brought up in the press more often than he preferred, Bucky Barnes tried to think about his past as little as possible. 

The first time you called him James was the first time he had liked the way it sounded. You had smiled at him, sweet and welcoming, as Sam introduced the two of you.

“It’s nice to meet you, James.” God, did it fall off your tongue in the nicest way. “Thank you for looking after birdbrain over here.” You giggled at Sam’s distant-sounding protest.

Bucky cracked a sideways smile, not being able to stop himself. “You can call me Bucky, doll.”

Your smile morphed into a sort of smirk, cheeks warming at the nickname he gave you. “Is that what you prefer?”

He hadn’t given it much thought anymore. He knew James as the person who enlisted in the military, the person who fell from the train following Captain America into the throws of war. James was the person who was Hydra’s plaything, the assassin, the monster he was so desperate to forget. Bucky was the charmer, the best friend of Steve Rogers, the swing dancer who had a habit of punching bullies(justified obviously). 

Now, he didn’t feel like either. Going by Bucky was the easiest option, since it was the part of him he was desperate to gain back. Talking to you however, he didn’t think he cared what he was called anymore. 

He gave you a soft grin, one that may have held a bit more meaning than flirtation. “I don’t mind either, you can call me whatever you want.”

—

The first time you called him by any kind of nickname was the day they went to Madripoor.

“Sammy! Buck!” You called their names as you waved big at them from the small airport hangar. 

Bucky tried to slow his heart as the pair walked closer to you. Sam let out a chuckle next to him, a teasing smile thrown his way. “Hope you don’t mind the extra company, Buck.”

With a frown and a grumble, Bucky widened his gait, the toe of his shoe catching on Sam’s, causing him to trip up momentarily. “Don’t call me that.”

He reached you first, allowing his smile wider further than before. “Hi Y/N, what’re you doin’ here?”

You placed a gentle hand on his left shoulder, rubbing back and forth. “It’s good to see you too,” you chuckled. “Sam told me what you guys are doing with Zemo. He thought I might be able to provide some kind of help, right Sam?”

Sam walked up with somehow both a smirk and scowl on his face and pulled you into a quick hug. “That’s right, though I might’ve invited you along so that I’m not the only one putting up with his old ass.”

Bucky scoffed, trying to ignore the lack of warmth from your otherwise occupied hands. “Are you sure about this, doll? This is probably gonna end with all of us on a watch list.”

You nudged his shoulder, your own smirk gracing your features. “As if I wasn’t on one already.”

The boys both chuckled, before Sam spoke up. “Speaking of watchlists, he’s here.”

Boarding the private jet that Zemo just happened to have, Bucky tried to keep his eyes on you the whole time, even as you sat in the leather seat between him and the window. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just fascinated by this - I don’t know what to call it,” your brows furrowed at the sentence, at the faint smirk that rested on Zemo’s face. “But this part seems important. Who is Nakajima?”

Bucky was out of his seat in an instant, metal fingers gripped tightly around his throat. Zemo’s face wiped itself of any amusement. Bucky spoke into his ear low and gruff, but it could easily be heard throughout the plane cabin. “You touch that again and I’ll kill you.” 

He snatched the notebook back into his and heavily sat back down into his seat, hand wound tight around the small journal

Your fingers reached across his lap and wrapped around his clenched metal fist, thumb rubbing soothingly over the back of his hand. “Just ignore him, sweetheart. You and I both know nothing that man says is worth anything.” 

Bucky looked down at your joined hands, then glanced up at you with a small smile. He gave your hand a couple of squeezes, and tried to focus back on the words being said throughout the rest of the plane ride. 

—

The first time you called him “baby” was during their fight with John Walker. 

Madripoor and Latvia had been filled with silent stares, small smiles, and soft words . Fleeting “friendly” touches ensued as well - Bucky’s hand on your back drawing small circles, your gentle grasp of his hand or arm when he clenched his fist.

Bucky talked to you about Yori, about his too soft mattress, about his too shitty of a therapist, his want to get a cat. You told him about meeting Sam, your agency background, your agreement that he should totally get a cat. And now, you just wished you could have that again.

Walker was too strong, landing solid hits on both Sam and Bucky that could easily start slowing them down. He had lifted the shield over their bodies too many times, clearly holding on to the same psychotic fury he had when he killed the Flagsmasher.

To this point, you stood frozen in watch. You weren’t there when the fight started, and between Sam and John’s current focus on Bucky, you weren’t sure which side needed the most aid.

John had flung Bucky into a nearby metal utility pole for Christ’s sake, and a cry wretched itself from your lips. You ran to his side as he laid on the ground unconscious, metal arm cackling with untamed electricity. 

“Bucky,” you murmured as you checked his spine for any breaks. You could hear his breath, as shuddered as it was after an impact like that. You moved him to lay on his back, palm pressed to his cheek. “Bucky, honey, come on, wake up.”

You tapped his cheek a couple of times in slight panic, other hand unconsciously combing his hair back. A couple of moments passed before he groaned and huffed out a cough. “Bucky,” you sighed a breath of relief, eyes near tearing up as the tension left your body. “Are you hurt, baby?”

He sat up with a grimace, another groan leaving his lips. “What the fuck?”

“He took the serum,” your hands had yet to leave his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He looked up at you with a wincing smile, still bright enough to make your heart stutter. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” The red gracing your cheeks could be easily based on the intensity of the fight, but it was unsaid knowledge that wasn’t the case. He touched the hand holding his cheek as you swept a thumb back and forth. A grunt from the fight crashed them both back to reality. “He’s gonna kill Sam.”

You stood up, pulling him with you by his metal arm. Bucky swung his arm around to recalibrate before jogging forward. “We gotta get the shield. Be careful, don’t let him pin you.”

____

The first time you kissed him was in Louisiana. 

You giggled from the picnic table as you watched Bucky dodge Sam’s nephews, cake in hand, as they tried to tackle him for his arm, as well as when several of the children pleading to hang off of it.

He sat next to you on the bench of the table, shoulder pressing into yours as you basked in Sam and Sarah’s storytelling. Bucky shared some bittersweet stories about Steve, drawing smiles from everyone listening. Each laugh had you leaning into him a bit more, but a complaint could not be heard, especially when your hands brushed under the table.

The evening continued on like that into the early night. Bucky entertained the masses, looking a lot like the charmer he used to be. Sam reminisced with his community, taking many photos with his local family. 

You sat on the pier, leaning back against the wooden bench as the sun set over the water’s horizon. You could faintly hear laughter behind you on the dock mixed with the sound of the stereo’s music drifting over. A smile grew on your face as a presence made its way towards you, shoes scuffing against the wooden slats. A soft hand rested on your shoulder and sent warmth through your body. “Care for some company, doll?”

You flashed Bucky a smile that had him weak as you turned back to him and patted the space next to him. He sat down close, thigh pressed against yours, shoulder to shoulder yet again. 

“What’re you gonna do now, Buck? You think you’re gonna stick around?” 

He sighed, staring down at his metal hand in contempt. “I don’t know,” his hand clenched in his lap. “I’ve been following orders for a long time now. Might be good for me to work with someone, not for. Even if birdbrain has a habit of getting on my nerves.”

You reached across his lap and gently unfurled his fingers. He wished the pressure he felt against the metal was more tangible for once, more definitive. “You should do whatever makes you feel the most free, sweetheart.” You slipped both of your hands around his, rubbing small circles with your thumb. “Whether that be with Sam or doing something else. You deserve it.”

Bucky’s eyes drifted over your face and observed its features - the small smile that curled around your lips, the kindness in your eyes. “And what about you?” he spoke softly. “Will you stay?”

You looked up to him and searched his eyes with a hopeful grin. “Are you asking?” you chuckled, using one of your hands to comb his hair back behind his ear, thumb resting on his cheek. “If I’m needed, I’ll stay.”

Bucky puffed out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. “Well ya know,” he threw a bright smile in your direction. “Sam’s gonna need you here so he doesn’t lose his mind.”

You chuckled, leaning a little bit closer.  “And you? Do you need me?”

Bucky took in the space between you, the way your breaths mingled, foreheads near touching. “Yeah, baby,” he allowed himself to fully lean in. “I need you.”

You kissing him was like coming up for air, or finding water in the middle of the desert. It was salvation, it was required for him to have in order to survive. Your lips were soft, tasting faintly of the beer you had earlier. His mouth moved against yours like a magnet following them wherever they went. His hand drifted to your waist, moving you somewhat into his lap as you both smiled into the kiss. When you finally broke apart, it was only for the need for oxygen to fill your lungs. 

You giggled from above him, heads pressed together. Your hands locked themselves around his shoulders in an embrace that forced him to stay where he could feel the pant of your breath across his skin, not that he was complaining. “I guess I’ll stay then.”

Please reblog and comment! It's my first fic in *two fucking years* and i need to know that this is still good lol

[traveler-at-heart]

Brave

Summary: The sudden loss of someone in your family leaves you broken. Natasha tries to help.

A/N: Special thanks to @happychopshoppenguin for helping me to sort out ideas for this plot.

It was a regular day for the Avengers.

Mission, explosions, fighting some bad guys and then fly back in the Quinjet.

“Fury’s gonna be mad” Clint taunts, looking at you.

“He didn’t say how to stop them from sharing the drive with the Chinese” you smile, thinking that blowing up their entire control room was a bit much. But, you were in a hurry to finish the mission and go home.

Clint rolls his eyes and steers the Quinjet.

“Alright, it’s gonna be at least seven hours. Go get some sleep, dynamite. Tasha, you ok?”

Natasha had been quiet, which was nothing new around you. To most people, it was probably the contrast in personalities; while the Russian was reserved, you were very outgoing.

You’d hope it was just that, and not that she disliked you. After a few attempts at conversation that turned cold, you decided to be cordial, but give her space.

Right now, she’s sitting in the back of the Quinjet, no visible injuries. But still, her hand is over her ribs, and she seems to be deep in thought.

You know what’s happening and that she’d never ask for help.

“Do you need to clean any wounds? I’ll take over the Quinjet while you do” you offer to Clint and he shakes his head no. Walking to the first aid kit, you pull out a bottle of water, painkillers and a pack of ice. You’re about to walk to sit next to Natasha, when you bring a hand to your forehead.

“Great. Blood and sooth. I must stink” placing the first aid stuff next to her, you mumble to yourself about taking a quick shower.

By the time you come out, Natasha has already taken a pill, and has the ice pack over her bruised ribs. Her eyes are closed, and much as you’d like to stare, you go sit next to Clint, hoping to get home soon.

—

Maria is waiting on the hangar when you land.

“Told ya” Clint mocks and you turn to glare at him.

“Did you snitch on me, Barton?”

“Y/N” Maria says, and her tone alone erases your smile.

“What’s wrong?” you say, going over every possible scenario. This is your last mission before a two week break to go back home. “Is it…?”

Your mom was supposed to have surgery. But she was fine. It couldn’t be…

“I’m sorry”

It’s as if a bucket of ice cold water was poured over your head. Your hands are so numb, you can’t feel Natasha taking one of them, her arm around your shoulders.

—

It’s been a week. Natasha tries not to think about you, mainly because there’s nothing she can do to help.

And it’s none of her business when (or if) you come back. Still, she feels a certain heaviness in her movements as she makes her morning coffee.

You always made enough for the two of you. And it tastes so much better than the one Natasha makes.

“Is Y/N around?” Maria walks in, looking for you.

“I thought she was still with her family”

“She came back earlier. It didn’t… it sounded bad. Like a family disagreement had happened on top of everything else” Maria sighs.

“Do you know what it was?”

“All I know is that her mother’s condition had been bad for a while… and then they did emergency surgery but her heart was too weak”

Natasha nods in silence, imagining how hard it must be for you. How your mother always sent something she knitted for everyone on the team on their birthdays, or how your parents would fly to visit at least once a month.

“If you see her, will you let me know? I just want to make sure she’s alright”

“Of course”

—

No one saw you, not even for movie night. It’s not like the team was expecting you, but it was quiet as the movie played on the screen, and only Sam seemed to be paying attention.

Natasha looks at the table in the middle of the room.

You always got her Dr. Pepper. Her guilty pleasure, a little indulgence in her life of strict physical activity and healthy meals.

This time, there’s only beer that no one bothers to drink. A headache threatens to sour her mood even more, but the cupboard with medical supplies is almost empty.

That’s how everything feels without you around.

Natasha had hoped you’d be at the staff meeting next Monday, but everyone took a seat, your chair remained empty.

“We have to do something” Steve says, looking around. His eyes meet Maria’s.

“Well, she’s been going on solo missions”

“And you think that’s a good idea?” Barton challenges, clearly annoyed. Would it be so hard for Fury to give a damn about his team?

“Listen, any one of you is welcomed to join her but I don’t think…”

“I’ll go” Natasha says.

“Good. Maybe she needs some… girl talk” Steve says and everyone laughs for the first time in weeks.

“Yes, we’ll braid our hair while we wait for the bad guys, Steve” Natasha mocks.

“Nice one, Capsicle” Tony says.

Truth be told, Natasha wasn’t expecting such a strong reaction when you saw her at the hangar.

“I’m on solo duty, Natasha” you say without looking at her, getting inside the small aircraft.

“Fury’s orders” the redhead lies, following you. She almost crashes against your back as you stop and turn around.

“If you’re coming, I don’t want to hear any scolding or complains. I’m running this operation”

“That’s fine by me”

Either way, from what she read on the file, it was only information extraction. And yet, you were gone for thirty minutes, after she successfully hacked into the database.

“Where the hell have you been?” Natasha scolds, forgetting about her previous promise.

“Can you get us on the air? I’ll take over in a minute” you answer, your face evidently beaten up, as one of your eyes was starting to swell.

Natasha is torn between concern and anger, but she figures it is better to talk to  you once they’re away from the enemy. With a sigh, she starts the engine and sets the coordinates of the Compound.

A spot on the floor catches her eye.

Blood. A lot of it.

“Y/N?” she stands up, looking around. Following the trail of blood, she opens up the door to the small bathroom. She sees you, your uniform torn around your thigh, a gash exposed. “Oh my God!”

“Ever tried knocking?” you say, without looking at her. Next thing you do is use the surgical stapler to close the wound, not caring to use anesthesia.

“You need stitches”

“I’m fine” you stand up, taking off the top of your uniform. Natasha spots bruises that are just starting to heal.

Maybe that’s why the medical supplies were gone the other day.

“Y/N…”

“If you’re not gonna fly, I’m taking over” you walk towards the cabin, and she stands there, looking at all the blood that you left behind.

What the hell is she gonna tell Maria when you come back?

There’s a moment of silence as you land the Quinjet. You hope that Natasha will not even start about your injury, so you wait for her to leave.

“Y/N?” 

“I’m fine, Natasha”

“I’m worried” she admits in a low voice, which catches you off guard. You’ve never thought she cared enough, not about you at least.

“I’ll stop going on missions until I’m better”

She wants to tell you it’s not enough, because an injury isn’t the issue here. But Natasha also recognizes when she’s about to cross a boundary. 

So, she just nods and leaves the hangar. The feeling of defeat comes with her as you’re left alone on the jet.

—

Another Monday, another staff meeting. 

To everyone’s surprise, you’re the last through the door. Steve sits up, but the rest of the team just looks at you, afraid that saying anything else might scare you away.

For your part, you ignore everyone but Natasha, placing a paper bag from her favorite bakery in front of her. 

She smiles at you, because it’s something you always do on Monday meetings. This time, you don’t mutter your usual excuse of being around the bakery first thing in the morning. You do give a little smile in return, and Natasha tries to ignore the warm feeling she gets from the gesture.

“Everyone, have a seat” Maria says, trying to pretend she isn’t surprised to see you as well. “We have word of a HYDRA base storing potentially dangerous technology. It’s big enough to send the whole team”

“Surely some of us could stay behind if we’re not up for it” Barton says, avoiding your eyes. He’s the only one that knows about what happened on your mission with Natasha. 

“It’s not ideal, but if anyone wants out, speak now. Very well”, she continues after a beat of silence. “Here’s the map of the facility. You leave in an hour”

—

The mission was completed. 

Barely. 

You’re holding a gauze against your side, to stop the bleeding from a bullet graze. Fury’s been called to go over what happened. 

He doesn’t seem pleased.

“You better do something about her” Tony says, his finger pointing at you.

“Stark” Barton warns but you don’t even react to his confrontation.

“No, I don’t want to hear it. If she wants to go and get killed, that’s her deal. But we were just about done with the mission when she decides to fight a dozen HYDRA agents on her own”

“We need to calm down” Steve says.

“No, there was a town a few miles south and HYDRA had nuclear warheads. Have we learned nothing? This could have been catastrophic” 

“But it wasn’t, so…”

“If you have some mommy issues to deal with, do it on your free time. I’m not gonna burden myself with civilian deaths over your trauma” 

“Tony!” Steve reprimands, standing up. They’re so busy facing each other, they never see you approaching. You throw a punch that hits Stark square in the eye, followed by another one that breaks his nose.

“Say that again, you fucking asshole” you shout, throwing a kick that never lands. It takes Steve and Bucky to hold you back. “Talk shit, Stark, see what happens” 

“That’s enough. You’re suspended, effective immediately” Fury says.

“I’ll do you one better. I quit” you push Rogers and Bucky away, not bothering to look at the rest of your teammates. 

It’s better this way.

—

It’s not hard to find you. Being a professional spy works in Natasha’s favor, but you’re basically bouncing from your apartment to the bar around the corner.

Sit and drink.

That’s all you do from the moment you walk in, around noon and then you leave past midnight. Before going up your apartment, you stop by the bodega to get another bottle of whatever cheap booze they have and call it a night.

Natasha looks from across the street, debating between going inside and talking to you or just going home.

What can she tell you to make it all better?

That’s the question she asks herself all week, and come Friday Natasha still doesn’t have an answer. 

The bar is crowded and the redhead figures it’s safe enough to go inside without being spotted.

You’re in your usual spot, leaning against the bar while sitting on a stool. The loud music and conversations make you dizzy, but you still ask for another scotch and drink half of it in one gulp.

“Are you moving anytime soon?” a twenty something year old pops out of nowhere and you don’t even look his way. “We want to sit at the bar and watch the game, I’m sure you can go be a sad drunk somewhere else”

“Fuck off” you say after finishing your drink and asking for another one. When they give it to you, the idiot knocks it from your hand. 

“You have ten seconds to apologize or leave” you rub your temples, thinking how much worse your headache will be after kicking his ass.

“I don’t think so” he says, throwing a punch at you. Even with all you drank, you’re able to avoid his fist, knocking him down in one swift motion.

“Crap” you kinda forgot he was not alone. Three more guys show up, and while you’re busy blocking some kicks, one of them manages to punch you in the face. You fall to the ground, feeling a kick to your side and a fist that connects with your nose.

At this point, you give up, thinking that getting your ass kicked in a bar is just as effective as drinking the day away.

But the next attack never comes. In fact, all three men are down.

“Get up” you hear someone say. 

It sounds like Natasha.

You try to stand, but there’s a pain in your side. Before you can collapse on the ground, arms go around your waist and help you stand, walking side by side all the way to your apartment.

The lavender scent and the gentle touch confirms it’s Natasha, and you try not to think about how much you’ve missed her.

The redhead opens the door to your apartment, letting you down on the couch. You grunt as you sit, blood running down your nose and temple.

Yeah, this is going to be the worst hangover of your life.

“Where’s your first aid kit?” Natasha says looking around the place. 

You really did miss her and the thought finally breaks you.

“What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?” Natasha kneels in front of you the minute you let out a sob, tears mixing with the blood.

“It’s not worth it, Nat. I’m not worth the trouble. You should go” you plead, overwhelmed at the guilt that’s been consuming you for weeks now.

“What are you talking about?” 

“She kept asking for me. When they were at the hospital. She wanted to see me, she was scared and in pain and I wasn’t there. My mother died and I didn’t get to say goodbye” 

“Y/N…”

“What kind of person does that? How can you fail so badly to the people that loved you?” 

“You didn’t fail”

“Yes, I did” you say, struggling to breathe.

“You didn’t. It’s ok” Natasha tries to calm you, her hands going through your hair until your breathing evens out. 

The rush of adrenaline leaves your body, and pretty soon, you’re slumped against the couch, Natasha’s hands still in yours.

—

There’s light. And pain.

A different kind than the one you’ve had. As you sit up, you feel your bruised ribs and when you grimace, the split lip reminds you your face didn’t fare any better during your fight.

Natasha…

“How are you feeling?” you turn to find the woman standing in the middle of your kitchen. 

“Like shit” you reply and she chuckles.

“There’s some coffee. It’s not as good as the one you make, but it will do. I should go” she sets her cup down, sighing.

“You don’t have to…” you want her to stay. But you don’t know what will happen if you ask her.

“I do, actually” she walks towards the door, but you endure the pain to meet her at the threshold. 

“Nat”

“No” she shakes her head, without looking back at you. “You have no idea how hard it is to watch someone you love hurt themselves”

The word love echoes, making you take a step back.

Natasha turns to look at you, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“I guess you were bound to find out eventually”

“Natasha” you plead, not knowing what to say.

“No, I don’t want to hear it. I won’t go into this when you’re going through hell and all i’ve done is watch you from afar. I guess I just want you to know…” she wipes the tears and looks at you. “You buy my favorite brand of peanut butter. You wake up one hour before I do, but the coffee is done only when I’m up. My water bottle is always full and cold before going to the gym. You charge my phone when I forget to, and when it’s late and I’m still working you stop by and tell me you made too much pasta just so I eat something…. You’re not a bad person. You’re wonderful and I wish I could have told you sooner. I’m sorry” Natasha turns around and leaves.

You don’t stop her this time.

—

It’s been three days and Natasha hasn’t heard from you. To be fair, she said a lot of things and didn’t wait for you to reply, so that might have been a bad idea.

Talking to Clint might be the only solution and she’s looking for him when you leave the conference room, followed by Maria and Steve.

Tony approaches you from the other side and Natasha waits around the corner.

“I’m sorry about what I said” Stark says and you nod.

“Fair enough. Not sorry about punching you, though”

“Fair enough” he repeats, smiling.

When they all leave, you turn back, your eyes meeting Natasha’s.

“Hi” you approach her, hands inside your pockets.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sober”

“That’s good”

“Mhm” you nod, holding her stare. Your eyes travel to her lips and you sigh. “Can we talk?”

“We don’t have to…”

“I wanna show you something. It won’t take long, I promise. What do you say?” you offer your hand and she stares at it for a second.

When Natasha nods and takes it, you hold her tight, leading her out of the Compound.

—

“She loved Central Park” you remember, walking around the benches, Natasha’s hand still in yours. “The whole city, really”

“She liked it because you live here, I think” Natasha says and you nod.

“Well, that and the pizza”

“Right” the redhead nods. You find a bench and lead her to it, pointing at the plaque.

Love is only for the brave, followed by your mother’s name.

“Is something she said often. Figured it might be nice to have it here, for people to read and gather courage”

“That’s a beautiful way to remember her” Natasha nods, aware that you’re moving closer.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you what I thought back at my place, Nat” 

“You don’t need to explain anything” she interrupts, giving you a way out.

“I didn’t think you liked me that much. And I absolutely thought I was being more discreet about my feelings for you” 

“It’s hard for me to think that love makes you brave… or strong” Natasha says, taking a step forward so you’re inches apart. 

“I know. Please let me show you?”

“I think I’d like that” she nods, leaning forward until your lips meet in a short kiss.

When you break apart, you remember that time your mother visited. How she insisted Natasha looked at you in a special way. 

“What’s so funny?” Natasha asks against your lips when you smile.

“I love you” you say and she pulls you closer.

Everything will be ok, as long as you have each other.

[hardly-an-escape]

for @bucktommypositivityweek Saturday 8/17: nicknames and terms of endearment | naming conventions | 1300 words | rated T

Tommy wasn’t much of a nickname guy. He shortened names, of course – he wasn’t the kind of asshole who insisted on calling Hen Henrietta or Eddie Edmundo – but Howie was almost always Howie, not Chimney, even after they reconnected, and the handful of other firefighters they knew with goofy monikers were still almost always referred to by their given names.

Buck had asked him about it, once; he’d assumed that an Army pilot would have been all in on nicknames and callsigns. But Tommy had simply shaken his head and said something about how, in his experience, they always came from negative moments.

Haven’t you ever noticed that? He’d said. They’re almost always based on something bad. A mistake or a close call. I don’t know, I just don’t think people should be known for something they fuck up when they’re a probie, or a raw recruit. When they’re still learning.

And Tommy wasn’t wrong; most nicknames did stem from some kind of fuck up. Usually something funny or ironic, but not always. To Buck it seemed almost like a kind of hazing ritual – maybe rite of passage would be a kinder term – like, can you really join the club if you can’t handle a little joke? But Buck also saw Tommy’s point. Saw how the loss of a name could mean the loss of agency, loss of identity, loss of control over one’s own person in a context when so much control had already been willingly given up. To service, whether that meant the military or the LAFD or just being the guy always willing to step in and do something.

Buck saw that, even if he didn’t feel it himself. For him, getting a nickname had been freeing – had been an opening up, a door to an identity he’d wanted for a long time without being able to name.

Becoming Buck instead of Evan had been – it was hard to describe. He’d always secretly wanted a nickname, wanted something cool and casual and jocular, something to show that he belonged somewhere. But Evan didn’t exactly lend itself to shortening or rhyming, and nothing he’d done in his youth had ever set him apart. Not in a way that mattered; not in a way that stuck.

He’d lived more than twenty five years of his life being Evan and feeling vaguely uncomfortable about it – until the fire academy, when someone had called him Buck and he’d just run with it, made it happen, finally carved out his own little niche in this world that suddenly meant so much to him.

And that’s how it had been – he’d just been Buck – until Tommy came along.

He hadn’t meant to introduce himself as Evan, when they met in the hangar. In fact, he hadn’t introduced himself at all; Chimney had been the one to make introductions. “Tommy, allow me to introduce you to your flight attendants for this evening’s little jaunt: Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz. Boys, this is Tommy Kinard, formerly of the 118 and currently probably regretting picking up my calls.”

They’d all shaken hands, faces serious. The weight of the moment and what they were about to do was heavy on their shoulders, despite Howie’s wisecracking, and it hadn’t even occurred to Buck to throw out his usual line about his nickname. And later, during his tour of Tommy’s station, it hadn’t really registered for Buck until they were halfway through that the other man had exclusively referred to him as Evan. It felt too late to correct him by the time he’d noticed.

And besides, he’d realized – much later – how much he liked the sound of Evan coming out of Tommy’s mouth.

Neither of them were big on pet names. Tommy would throw out the occasional sweetheart, which always made Buck melt a little inside, but it wasn’t a regular thing. Buck sometimes went for baby in intimate moments – babe, with what Tommy called “a tone,” if he was being a bit of a brat – but it was often as much for comedic effect as anything else.

They mostly just stuck to names. For Evan, the novelty of murmuring Tommy as he kissed his boyfriend’s Adam’s apple or his stubbly cheek or down the line of his happy trail never seemed to wear off. The masculine body under his hands and lips. The masculine name on his tongue.

He asked Tommy, once, after explaining his own weirdly complicated history with his name – and his parents, and his dead brother, and his long unwitting search for an identity – why he went by Tommy, not Tom or Thomas.

“I guess it sounds a little juvenile, doesn’t it?” Tommy said. “For a guy in his forties.”

“I mean, I don’t think so,” Buck said. “I think – I don’t know, I think it fits you. Like, I’ve heard other people call you Tom, but if I called you Tom, I feel like that’s a different person, almost. Someone I don’t even know.”

“I feel the same way about Buck,” Tommy admitted. “Hen says it, I don’t even blink. I know it’s you. But if I say it? It’s like, who is that.”

“Yeah.”

Tommy shifted a little on the couch. Plucked at his jeans, wrapped an arm around Buck’s shoulders and then immediately shifted again so he could run his fingers through Buck’s hair.

“I’ve told you a little about my dad,” he said eventually. “About how we don’t… get along. Never did, really, even when I was just a kid.” He paused, for long enough that Buck looked up enquiringly, only to see Tommy staring off into the middle distance.

“But I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned that I was named after him,” Tommy continued eventually.

“Wait, really?”

“Really. I am technically a junior. Thomas Edward Kinard, Jr. He actually wanted my birth certificate to say “the second,” but my mom put her foot down.”

“Wow. I had… no idea.”

“I stopped using the junior a year or two into my stint in the service. Dropped it completely when I came out to Los Angeles. Changed my driver’s license and just… didn’t put it on the paperwork. I’m sure that won’t come back to bite me in the ass someday.”

Tommy laughed, short and sarcastic, and Buck frowned. He’d only heard that laugh a couple of times, but he didn’t like it. He wormed his way out from beneath Tommy’s arm so he could take one of his broad hands between his own, petting over hairy knuckles and a calloused palm.

“Have you ever thought about changing it? Choosing something new?” he asked hesitantly.

“No. Never. He took enough from me, over the years,” Tommy said harshly. “He doesn’t get to take my name, too, even if it did come from him. Besides, it pisses him off enough that I went by Tommy past the age of sixteen. Changing my name would feel like… would feel like giving in.”

“I get that,” Buck said thoughtfully.

He squeezed Tommy’s hand one more time, then put it aside and climbed carefully into his boyfriend’s lap. Tommy let out a soft grunt of surprise as Buck wound his arms around his neck and tipped his face up for a kiss.

Buck obliged him. “Well, for what it’s worth,” he said softly, lips brushing against Tommy’s, “I love your name. I love how it sounds when I say it. Tommy,” he murmured, and Tommy swallowed hard. “It fits you. I don’t know how else to say it. It’s you. And I – I love you. So I love your name.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d said those words, but it was still new enough that they tasted fresh and exciting.

“I love you, too,” Tommy said quietly. “Evan,” he said, and kissed him again.

this was supposed to be something fun and silly based on this post but then it developed emotions and that's why it's a day late.

[bloatedandalone04]

Crossing that Line

➪the one where you and bradley drive each other crazy in more ways than one, but would do anything for each other, and all it takes is one confession to solidify your places in each others lives.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, swearing, fluff, hint of angst, pining to the max, a whole lot of smut tbh

Word Count: 6.1k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | Happy Birthday, Rooster !

The relationship you had with Bradley was…a weird one, to put it simply.

He pisses you off more than anyone you’ve ever met, and you drive him up the wall nearly every day, but you also couldn’t stand to be away from one another. He was your person, and you were his best friend; you would do anything for each other without an ounce of hesitation. 

It was stupid, how hard you found yourself falling for him. The guy who had more confidence than he should, the guy who’s saved your ass more times than you can count, and the guy who’s taken hits for you during training, just so you wouldn’t have to hear about it later from the other guys. 

The only thing is; you had no idea how he felt about you. He was cocky, confident and hid his feelings annoyingly well, you had no clue if the shared stares meant the same thing to him that they did to you, or if you were mistaking his comments for shameless flirting. 

You couldn’t lose him, so you kept it bottled up for the last two years, and it’s been complete and utter hell. But you’d keep doing it. Because there was no telling what he was thinking sometimes, and if he was thinking about you. 

The day was slowly coming to an end, and nearly everyone was heading to the barracks, but not you. Instead of going to your room, you made your way to the hangar, knowing who you would find in there. You turn the corner and lean against the wall, crossing your arms as you watch Bradley mess around with his  F/A-18. 

You tried not to focus on the way the muscles in his neck flexed with every move of his arm, the small amount of oil littering his skin making him shine a bit as the sun set behind you. “Hey, Bradshaw,” you greet before he could turn and catch you staring at him. “Nice flying today.”

You could see the way his body shifted in recognition of your voice, and when he turned to glance over at you, he was smirking. “Hey there, Y/n/n,” he said, wiping his hands on his flight suit. “Nice to see you haven’t crashed and burned yet.”

Shaking your head, you ignore the fact that it was just you and him left in the hangar now. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

Bradley shrugged, grabbing a cloth from off a table and wiping his hands. “Could be kinda entertaining,”

You gasp, placing your hand over your heart. “Wow, ouch,” you mumble. “And here I am thinking I’d probably be heartbroken if the same thing were to happen to you.”

He laughed, turning to face you. “Please, we both know you’d be the first one to poke fun at me for crashing,”

You press your lips together and shrug. “Yeah, probably, but I’d also be the first one to make it over to you,”

Really, you’d probably die of a broken heart if something were to happen to him, but he didn’t need to know that right now. Or ever. 

Bradley’s smirk softened and he looked down at his boots. “I know you would,”

And now you were picturing what it would be like to live without him, and you could feel yourself beginning to panic a bit. 

Smiling, you shake your head again before giving him a conflicted look, wanting nothing more than to walk over to him and press the neediest kiss to his lips and tell him you were so fucking in love with him. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Bradley,” you say quietly, watching as his brows furrow.

“Wait,” he said, making you hold off on leaving just yet. “Something on your mind?”

“No,” you say too quickly for it to sound true. “Nope. I’m fine, Rooster. I’ll leave you alone now.”

His eyes narrow and he throws the cloth somewhere behind him as he steps towards you. “Why are you lying to me?”

You let out a surprised laugh, pushing yourself off the wall. “I’m not,”

“Uh huh,” he hummed, moving so he’s standing right in front of you. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Your face heats up and you quickly look away, squinting as your gaze meets the bright sunset. “Okay,” you trail off, glancing at him one last time before stepping away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bradley.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, maybe continue to call you out on your awful attempt at lying to his face, but his shoulders dropped slightly as he nodded casually. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, moving away from you and back towards his jet. “See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

Oh, how you loved and fucking hated when he called you that. It made you crave him even more than you usually do, and it also made you want to punch him square in the face for having such a strong effect on you. 

“Don’t overthink too much,” he added, glancing back at you with a teasing smirk. 

“I’ll try,” you whisper, and no more words are shared as you leave the hangar and quickly walk across base and towards the barracks. 

-

Bradley knew you weren’t telling him something the second he saw your conflicted look before you tried playing it off right after. He wanted to push you on it more, but wasn’t sure if he even had the right to since it was pretty rare for things to become serious like that between the two of you. 

He was still in the hangar, the arms of his flight suit now tied around his waist as he finally decided to stop touching his jet and leave it alone for the rest of the night. Like usual, his thoughts were taken over by you, and he wondered what would’ve happened if he didn’t let you leave so easily earlier. What could he have gotten you to say? Why did you suddenly become so closed off and serious in the middle of your usually playful banter? 

He almost didn’t want to know, but he also kinda wanted to know. 

It was late, but not too late for it to be deemed unacceptable for him to stop by your room before retiring to his for the night. So instead of taking the first hallway in the barracks corridor, he went past it and turned left a few feet down the hall, instantly recognizing your room without him even meaning to. 

Bradley debated on whether or not he wanted to intrude on your night or save it for tomorrow, but with you he often found himself saying fuck it and hoping for the best. So he knocked.

After waiting for only a few seconds, the door opened and you poke your head out with guarded eyes, your gaze softened once you saw that it was him. “Bradley?” 

He smiled, crossing his arms and leaning against the frame, mirroring your stance back in the hangar. “Hey,” he greeted. “Hope I’m not bothering you too late.” 

You shake your head and smooth out your messy hair, and he knew you were probably in bed, trying to sleep but failing miserably to do so. During one of your thousand talk sessions, you mentioned how much you hated sleeping in the small, single beds here and couldn’t wait to start looking for apartments in the area. Bradley hated them, too, not because he couldn’t fit properly in them, but because whenever he laid down for the night, he was reminded of just how fucking lonely he really is. “No, you’re fine,” you give him a tight smile, one he knew was played up. Still, it was a pretty one nonetheless. “What’s up?”

Bradley’s gaze raked down your body, subtly checking out your attire of a loose, long sleeve button up and leggings. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You seemed off the last time we talked,”

“What, a few hours ago after a day of being in the air?” You laugh, running your hands down your face as you avoid eye contact with him. Now he knew you were hiding something for sure. “Yeah, I’m good. Great, even. I’m great.” 

Bradley raises his brows, a huff escaping his lips after. “You are such a terrible liar,” he grunted, watching as you immediately looked down to the floor. “See, you can’t hide anything from me, sweetheart. Just tell me what’s up.”

You looked up at him with an expression he’s never really seen on you before, and it had him straightening up a bit. “You’re really not going to drop this, are you?”

“No,”

You glance down at the floor, pulling at the sleeves of your shirt. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier,” you confessed quietly. 

Bradley’s gaze softened and he tried to get you to look at him, but you weren’t letting up. “What part?”

You shrugged, keeping your head down. “About how I would laugh if you crashed and burned,” you whispered. “I wouldn’t laugh.”

Bradley tenses up a bit at the sudden change in tone and atmosphere, looking around your small and neat room. “I know you wouldn’t, I was just messing with you,” like we usually do.

“No, Bradley,” you mumbled, still not looking at him. “I mean it. I’d be devastated if that were to happen to you.”

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching over to gently grip your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I know…I know. I was just messing around…I didn’t expect…” He trailed off, suddenly aware of how close he had gotten to you. He had never touched you like this before, only ever going as far as a quick hug after a risky mission or a dangerous stunt in the air. 

You furrowed your brows as you met his gaze with guarded eyes. “Didn’t expect what?” 

Bradley inches even closer. “I didn’t expect that you’d care this much,”

Your eyes widen a bit as you look up at him. “Of course I care,” you gasped in disbelief, laughing after and breaking eye contact again. “Maybe too much.”

But he didn’t let your eyes wander far as he still had a hold on your chin, and he guided your face back to his. “What do you mean by that? ‘Too much’?” He asked, his eyes wide, any traces of his earlier teasing gone. 

You give him a pleading look. “You know what I mean,” 

Bradley held your gaze, noting your frustrated expression. “Maybe I do,” he murmured, caressing your jaw with his thumb. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“I can’t,” you shake your head and he could see the way you played with your fingers out of the corner of his eye.

“Why not?” He pressed, invading your space with another step. “What are you so afraid to tell me?”

You give him another pleading look, but he doesn’t step away. “I’m afraid of putting something out there that I can’t take back,” 

When you moved to step away, Bradley’s hands reached for your hips, anchoring you in place. He had never been this close to you before, never touched you like this before, and it was driving him insane. “Tell me,”

“Bradley,” 

His gaze intensifies, his head dipping down closer to yours. “Say it, sweetheart,”

Your eyes were wide with anxiety as you parted your lips to speak. “I…I’m in love with…you,”

Though he had a small feeling that he knew - or maybe hoped -  you were going to say that, his breath still got caught in his throat. His heart was beating loudly in his ears, and his skin was on fire. No one had ever made him feel this way with a single sentence, and he wasn’t all that surprised that it was you. “You’re in love with me?” He asked, needing to hear it for confirmation. 

A blush takes over your face as you shake your head and step away. “I-I didn’t…fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t-” you stuttered and he could see the tears gathered along your eyes. “I just messed everything up. I knew I would.”

Bradley’s eyes widen at the sudden loss of contact, and he shakes his head, too. “No, no, wait. Don’t…don’t apologize,” he rasped, running his hands through his hair. “Don’t be sorry. It’s…it’s okay.”

You stare at the floor and nod. “Okay,”

Your heart was on your sleeve now, and he knew he had to be careful. “Sweetheart…look at me,” he softly demands, stepping towards you and closing the distance you created. 

“Can’t…I can’t,” you quickly shook your head but he lifted your chin with his fingers. 

“Please,” he whispered. “Look at me.”

Slowly, your teary eyes met his and you looked like you were already building walls up to protect yourself from him, and that was the last thing he wanted. Seeing your eyes glazed over like this was damn near enough to break his heart, and Bradley took a step closer to you. 

“There you are,” he whispered, gently stroking your chin with his thumb. He held your gaze, a mixture of embarrassment, vulnerability and uncertainty. “You have no idea.”

You furrowed your brows, trying to blink away the tears as you trembled in front of him. “No idea about what?” You asked, your voice barely above a murmur. 

Bradley kept his eyes locked on yours, ensuring you knew just how serious his next words are. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited and wanted…hoped to hear you say that to me,” he confessed, watching as your eyes widened. “I never thought you felt the same way, so I never let myself think about it too much.”

Your breath audibly caught in your throat as you stuttered, “W-what?”

He smiled, his usual cocky and confident facade fading as the seconds went on. “You’re the one person, the only person I could never figure out fully. I could never tell if you wanted me as badly as I wanted you, or if you just saw me as the guy you bickered with all the time,” he continued. “You’re the one person who doesn’t care about how full of myself I am sometimes, you called me out on it. And ever since then, I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

“Bradley,” you gasped quietly, and he could see your walls starting to come down again, so he pushed further, 

“And hearing you say that…that you’re in love with me…” he trailed off, moving his fingers from your chin and tracing them along your jaw. “It felt like I could finally have the one thing I thought I never could.” 

You swallow hard, your eyes wide and vulnerable as he closes the distance further, leaving a few inches between the two of you. His fingers curled around your jaw and his thumb tugged at your bottom lip, his gaze flickering down for a few seconds. 

“God, baby,” he whispered in disbelief. “Hearing you say that…it’s all I ever wanted. You get under my skin like no one else, and you make me want to pull my hair out, but I can’t fight the way I feel about you anymore. Not after this.”

“Bradley,” you say again, at a loss for words as you reach up and grip his wrist, leaning into his touch. 

“Sweetheart,” he murmured. “Will you say it again? Please?”

He couldn’t believe he was begging to hear your words again, but the way your expression softened had him not giving a single fuck. “Bradley, I’m in love with you,” 

His skin heated up as you repeated your words, and his control finally snapped. “Fuck…fuck,” he muttered, not wasting another second as he leaned in and kissed you. He poured all the nights he lost sleep thinking about you into the kiss, all the times he held back his own confession after your usual playful banter turned serious, all the times he thought about doing just this with you. 

You kissed him back desperately, a soft moan escaping your throat as you gripped his wrists tightly. Bradley wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body right up against his as he deepened the kiss. He walks you backwards until your back hits the wall opposite from the door, pinning you to it as his hands roam all over your body. 

He couldn’t believe, after all the nights he spent fantasizing about this, that he was finally touching you like this. Your quiet gasps against his lips had his touch growing more possessive as he felt your hands slide up to grip his shoulders. His palms were flat against your body, feeling the heat of your skin through your clothes. “God, baby, you taste so good. You feel so good,” he murmurs once he breaks the kiss and begins trailing his lips along your jaw, his body pressing yours closer to the wall. 

“Oh, my God,” you moaned, your breath coming out heavy and uneven. “Bradley.”

He always knew his name would sound beautiful coming from your mouth like this, but actually hearing it was something else entirely. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he growled softly against your collar bone, his fingers lifting your shirt up so he could feel the smooth skin of your hips. “I’ve thought about this…about you for so long.” 

Your fingers moved up to his hair, where you pulled gently. “You’ve thought about me?”

“Yes,” he answered, burying his face against your neck as his hands inched further up your body under your shirt. “I think about you all the time. I tried not to, but I was fucked from the second I saw you.”

The surprised laugh you let out had his touch growing more urgent, the only thing on his mind being more ways he could get you to make those pretty sounds again. “Why didn’t you do anything about it?” 

Bradley lets out his own laugh, lifting his head from your neck as he raises a brow at you. “I could ask you the same question,” came his teasing reply as his hands slid up your back. “But really…you terrified me. I didn’t want to ruin things and mess up our friendship if you didn’t feel the same way.”

“So,” you trailed off, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. “What does this mean for our friendship? For us?”

He lifts a hand to your cheek, his thumb brushing against your bone as he answered, “It means that I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want you. That I don’t need you, sweetheart,” he leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours. “It means we’re not just friends anymore.”

The smile you gave him had goosebumps forming on his skin and a wave of relief washing over him. “We’re not?”

Bradley shook his head. “No, baby, we’re not,” he confirmed, pressing his hips against yours as he placed a soft kiss to your lips. “You’re mine now, and I’m never letting you go.”

Your smile grows as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Bradley…I love you,”

He wraps his arms around your waist again as a warmth spreads all throughout his body. “I love you, too. So fucking much,” he mumbles before capturing your lips in another desperate, needy kiss. His tongue pokes out and nudges your lips apart, a deep groan leaving his throat as you pull at his hair. “Fuck, baby…been dying to taste you like this.” He breaks the kiss just long enough to whisper against your lips before going back in, his fingers moving to the buttons on your shirt. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” you say against his lips. “This is happening, right? This is real?”

Bradley pulls away to be able to look you in the eyes. “It’s real, sweetheart,” he said softly before beginning to unbutton your shirt. “I can’t believe you feel the same way about me.”

“You can’t believe I love you?” You tease, biting down on your wet, swollen lips. 

His gaze darkens as he gets the final button undone, and then he lets the fabric slide off your shoulders. “Yeah. Been wanting to hear you say that for years,” he grunted, sliding his hands up your bare arms. “Been wanting to touch you like this.”

“And now that you can?” You asked in a breathless voice, staring up at him with a look he knew would be permanently burned into his mind. 

“Now that I can,” he started, his hands tracing the curve of your hips as his eyes raked over your chest. “I’m going to do everything I've been dreaming about doing to you...and then some.”

You moan, nodding quickly and making his lips turn upwards into a smirk. 

His hands move to the front of your leggings, his fingers teasing the thin fabric as his tongue runs along the smooth skin of your neck. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this...about having you like this,”

“I think I might have an idea,” you mumbled, tugging at his undershirt. 

Bradley grinned, feeling that warmth return and take over his body again. He pulled away to tug off his shirt and toss it to the side, then he was close to you again. “Yeah? Have you thought about me, too, baby?”

“Nearly every day,” you confessed as his hands moved back to your hips, his thumbs slipping past the waistline of your leggings as he slowly pulled them down. “Nearly every night.”

He groaned at your confession, helping you kick off the flimsy fabric before he was grabbing your hips again. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’ve been driving me crazy for so long,”

Your head tilts back and rests against the wall as his lips pepper kisses all along the base of your throat. “You’ve been making me go insane for years, Bradley,” 

“You’re not the only one who��s been losing your mind over this,” he laughed, sliding his hands up your body until he was caressing the underside of your bra. “I hoped that this would pass, but it never did. The more time we spent together, the more impossible it became. I had this burning need to have you, touch you, taste you.”

He emphasized his words by gripping your hips and spinning you around so your back was pressed against his chest. Your gasp had his boxers tightening, his tongue tracing random shapes onto the skin behind your ear. 

“The way you smile, laugh, and those fucking looks you give me,” he ranted, his breath fanning across your neck. “All the time we’ve spent together, I had to stop myself from taking you right then and there.”

When his hands slid down your body and pulled you closer to him, you moaned loudly, leaning your head back to rest against his shoulder. 

“The sounds you make for me, fuck,” he moaned, tugging on curve of your ear with his teeth. “All I’ve been wanting is to see you fall apart for me, to hear you scream for me…beg for me.”

 “Bradley,” you moaned again, leaning into his touch as his hands found the fabric of your bra, his fingers toying with the straps. 

“I’ve needed you so badly,” he rasped, pulling the strap off your shoulder before leaning down to kiss the newly exposed skin. “I finally have you all to myself. I’m never letting you go.”

“Don’t let me go,” you begged, gripping his forearms tightly. “Please.” 

“Never,” he said in a deep voice. “You’re mine now; mine to taste all over, to make scream.” He grabs your chin, gently turning your head so he could place a firm kiss to your mouth.

You moan, reaching behind you to tug on his hair as you pressed your body against his. “I want that,” you whine and he kisses you deeper, brushing his tongue against yours. 

His fingers played with the clasp of your bra, and soon enough he had the lacy fabric sliding down your arms and landing on the floor. “I need to see you,” he nearly begged, breaking away from your lips as he groped your breasts with dark eyes. 

“Well?” You asked, breathless from his touch as you rolled your hips back against him. 

“Damn, baby, you’re so beautiful,” he commented, leaning down to suck a mark onto the side of your neck. “Been dreaming about how gorgeous you’d look all bare for me, how sweet you’d taste and how pretty you’d sound.” His thumbs slid over your nipples, the devoted attention he was giving them making you whimper. 

“Oh, God,” you bit your lip to stifle the sounds that were coming out of you more frequently now. 

“Don’t hold back, baby,” he mumbled, softly pulling at your nipples with his thumb and index fingers. “I wanna hear all those sounds you make for me.”

You oblige almost immediately, moaning as he continues to worship your chest. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this,” 

“Believe it,” he grunted, smoothing his palms over your hardened nipples as he placed open mouthed kisses on your neck. 

Your body started to shake against his, your perfect lips parting as you let out a string of whimpers. “Feels so good,”

“I’ve barely started,” he cooed, pressing his hardness against your lower back. “You feel perfect in my arms, baby.”

“I want you,” you whined, squeezing your legs together. “I want you so bad.”

“I want you, too,” he groaned, slowly rolling his body into yours, his cock growing impossibly hard. “So badly.”

His hands caressed your breasts in a feather light touch, and he felt goosebumps against his palms as you gasped. “Your hands…I’ve always wanted to feel them on me,” 

“Yeah?” He teased, tracing his fingers around your nipples again, slowly but surely working you into a whiny mess for him.

“Yeah,” you huff, shaking even more. “Holy fuck, you feel so good.”

“So do you,” he growled, pinching your breasts before sliding his hands down your body. “I love touching you like this, but I need to feel more of you.” He murmured, turning you around in his arms so he could get a good look at you.

The way you were pressing your thighs together and the lust he could see in your eyes had him biting down hard on his lip, the sight of you only in a pair of lace panties doing things to him. “Please,” you whined, guiding his hand down your body. 

His eyes rolled back slightly as he leaned his head down and began kissing your shoulders, his hand sliding down your damp panties. “You want me to touch you here?” He asked, knowing damn well what your answer is. 

“Yes, please,” you gave in so sweetly, kicking the ruined fabric aside as you stepped back into his arms. 

He presses kisses to your shoulders as his hand reaches out, his fingers running along your core. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet,” he groaned, his cock throbbing as he felt just how worked up he made you. 

“All for you,” came your instant reply. Bradley’s eyes darkened as he circled your clit with his middle finger, the way you were trembling against him being the hottest sight he had ever seen.  “Oh, my God, yes.”

“There you go, baby,” he praised, sinking his fingers into your heat. “Give it to me, let me hear you.”

You let out another loud moan, reaching for his flight suit and practically shoving it down his legs. “I need you,” you said desperately. “I need you so bad.”

He could tell. Your wetness was dripping onto his hand as you spoke. 

Bradley kicked off his boots and added his suit to the pile of clothes on the floor, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs as he picked you up and carried you over to your bed. He set you down on your back, his lips pressing to yours as he rolled his hips. “I need you, too,” he promised, pulling away from your lips and settling his head in between your legs. “But I need to taste this pretty pussy first.”

Then he was licking a stripe up your folds and making your back arch off the bed. “Fuck!” You called out, the slick sound of his tongue against you bouncing throughout the room. “Oh, my fucking God, Bradley.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he slid his tongue inside your wet walls, his eyes rolling back at your taste. “Goddamn, sweetheart,” he moaned, sucking and licking at you like a starved man. “You taste so fucking good, baby.”

“Bradley,” you moaned loudly. “Please, fuck me. I need you…right now.”

His eyes darken even more as he crawls back up your body, and you push his boxers down quickly. You wrap your legs around his waist, bucking your hips up so your core brushes against his aching cock. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” 

Your brows furrow as he grips his base and guides himself inside you, your back arching again as you wrap your arms around him. “I love you,”

Bradley groaned, your wetness allowing him to sink all the way inside with one thrust. “God, I love you so much,” he said back, holding you against his body as he began to rock his hips against yours. “So much.”

He moved deep inside you, the feeling of skin on skin with nothing in between making his head spin. He hadn’t even asked if you wanted him to use a condom - and he knew it would’ve been a hard task to tear himself away from you and go to his room to get one, but he would’ve done it willingly - but you both seemed too lost in each other to think about it right now. 

You felt so good. Bradley has never been this hard in his entire life, and he knew it was all because of you. “You feel so perfect,” he praised, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt you clench around him. “So tight…fuck.”

“Bradley,” you moaned, wrapping your legs tighter around him as he slowly fucked you against the matress. “You’re so big.”

Your words went right through him, a sense of pride filling him as he looked down at you with lust filled eyes. “You’re so tight,” he echoed his previous words, fucking into you harder but still keeping his pace slow. “So tight for me.”

Your eyes widened and you dropped your head against your pillow. “My fucking God, Bradley,” you gasped, shifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “Yes.”

“Say my name again,” he softly demanded before leaning down to suck a mark onto your neck. “Tell me who’s making you feel so good right now…who’s stretching you so good right now.”

“Bradley!” You cry out, pressing your chest right up against his. “I’ve wanted this for so long…knew you’d feel so good.”

“Baby,” he rasped, fucking into you faster. “You feel so much better than I could have ever imagined.”

Your arousal was dripping onto his thighs as he fucked you harder, his hips hitting yours harshly as he let all the pining and desire he’s felt for you pour out of him. “Don’t stop, please please please,” you begged for him just like he wanted, your hands pulling at his hair. 

He grunted, his eyes flickering down to where you connected. “I’m not stopping, sweetheart, I can’t,” he huffed, watching the way his cock became more and more coated in your wetness with each thrust. “You feel too good, I need you.”

“Yes…yes,” you cried, digging your heel into his lower back and driving him even deeper inside you. “Oh, fuck.”

“Say my name,” he mumbled against your skin, not caring that the walls were pretty thin and anyone who may be in the hallway would definitely be able to hear you. “Say it again.”

“Bradley!” You moaned, scratching your nails down his back. 

His movements were fast, uneven and uncontrolled now as he hiked one of your legs higher around his waist, angling his body so he could push himself impossibly deeper. “That’s my girl,” he cooed, feeling the way you clenched around him at his words. “My girl.”

“Your girl,” you repeated, looking up at him with hooded eyes. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, leaning down so his lips brushed against yours. “My girl.” 

He kissed you deeply, fucking you hard into the bed meant for one person, the sound of your muffled moans filling the room. “God, Bradley, you feel so good…so full,”

Your words were slurred as if you were drunk, but both of you were completely sober right now as you gave into your need for one another. “You feel so good, too,” he mumbled. “So perfect…so tight and wet for me.”

His words were as equally as filthy as yours were, and he couldn’t remember the last time he let himself get this lost in someone; to the point where he couldn’t care less about how dirty his mouth was. 

“I’ve never felt anything better than you, baby,” he swore, reaching down to rub your swollen and puffy clit. “Nothing compares.”

Your jaw goes slack as you let out moan after moan, his words clearly having an effect on you. “I’m so close,” 

“Yeah, I can feel it,” he groaned, rubbing and fucking you harder. His voice was rough and thick with desire, his breaths coming out ragged and uneven. “I want you to come for me. I need to feel you come.”

“Bradley! Right there,” you nearly screamed, clinging onto him with a death grip. “Right there.”

He hummed, “Just like that, baby,” he circled your clit faster, watching as you began to shake. “Come for me.”

Your body jolted and trembled under him, your release flooding around him and soaking his cock. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!” You cried, squeezing your eyes shut as you dug your nails into his shoulders.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he cooed, kissing all over your face as he felt his own release creeping up on him. “God, I never want this to end.”

You whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck and messily kissing him. He could feel you shaking still, but you didn’t ask him to stop or pull out, instead you just pulled him closer to you and whined against his lips. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, kissing you softly as he got closer and closer. “So perfect.”

“I want you to come for me,” you mumbled in between kisses. 

Bradley groaned, licking along your lips. “I want that, too,” he said. “I wanna come for you…only you.”

“Only me,” you whispered with a lazy smile, slowly rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.

He nodded, his eyes nearly shut as he managed to ask, “Where? Where can I-”

“Inside me,” you answered, your heel on his back keeping him from pulling out too much. “I want it inside me.”

Bradley’s eyes squeezed shut as he felt his control snap. “Fuck…fuck, I’m coming, baby,” he groaned deeply, fucking his seed into your abused core. You moan quietly, running your fingers through his sweaty hair as his body shakes from the intensity of it all. He had never come that hard before, and when he slowly came to a stop, he could feel it seeping around him and dripping out of you. He also never came that much before. “That….that was-”

“I know,” you beamed, kissing him softly as you kept your legs wrapped around him. “I love you so much.”

Bradley smiles down at you, kissing you back. “I love you, too,” he promised as he rolled you onto your sides, still buried inside you. 

“Stay with me?” You asked as you kissed along his salty skin. 

After years of wanting to experience this with you and have you all to himself, he was finally able to, and he wasn’t planning on ever leaving your side again. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,”

You smile, trailing your hand up and down his back. “So…what does this mean for us?”

Bradley tangles his fingers in your hair, holding you close to him. “I want to call you my girlfriend, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Will you let me?”

You close your eyes, letting out a quiet groan. “I want to be your girlfriend so badly,”

“Then it’s settled,” he stated, pulling you even closer as a grin tugged at his lips. “You’re my girlfriend.”

Your hands slide up to his shoulder as you kiss him. “And you’re my boyfriend,”

Bradley smiled as he kissed you back. “And I’m going to make sure I’m the best boyfriend you’ve ever had,”

“You better be the best and last,” you warn playfully, laying your head on his chest. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he laughed, running his hand along your lower back. “You’re stuck with me.”

A blush takes over your face as you kiss the scar on his neck. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” 

-

They fucked again after that btw. Happy Birthday, Bradley Bradshaw!

[torchflies]

Hi TG Fandom!!!! 

(Climbing out of my work cave with this little AU, since I haven't had any free time to write BUT I did get some snazzy new forearm crutches to use when I teach and give lectures so this dude is winning at life tbh). 

Weird stuff starts happening when they're about a week into Top Gun. 

All the flyboys are trying to befriend Maverick, but he's making it impossible. That, or the guy just has selective amnesia. 

Wolfman tries to talk to him in the lunch line, but the sleep-deprived Maverick in front of him just walks right past him… in the wrong uniform? Is that a priest’s collar?

Hollywood has something similar happen to him, when he goes on a jog and bumps into Maverick pushing a baby in a stroller. A sleeping baby with a red pacifier in it’s mouth and a small girl with pigtails skating beside him. And is he wearing rollerblades too?? Hollywood tries to stop him in surprise, but Maverick shoots him a dirty look and keeps skating, tugging his kids closer. Rude.

Slider and Ice have their own trippy experience when they have to go to medbay because Ice twisted his ankle again — the man refuses to tape it properly — and another doctor pops in to grab a chart and it’s Maverick???

“Mitchell, what the hell?” Slider snaps, neither of them thinking Maverick was old enough to be double-certified. 

But Maverick looks stunned and very confused. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I needed this?” 

He keeps that weird look on his face as he ducks out the door and when they ask him about it in training, he just gives them the same weird look! 

It comes to a head when Chipper and Sundown see Maverick talking with another officer and walking down the hall one minute. Then, they duck into the hangar and Maverick is sitting right at his desk, chatting to Goose. 

It has to be a massive prank, it has to be!

Until they finally confront Maverick and Goose about it, and Mav turns bright red, while Goose can't stop laughing to save his life. He's honking and wheezing up a storm. 

“Oh God,” Goose finally gasps out, “The boys are never going to let you hear the end of this. You forgot to tell them!”

“Well, it wasn't the first thing that jumped to mind! Teddy isn't even Navy!”

Goose thwacks his pilot upside the head. “Lynds, Mal and Kiff work on the same base as us!” For the greater flyboy population he finally adds, “Identical quintuplets.”

Yessireee, five whole Mavericks, exactly what the world needed. 😂

[starberry-cupcake]

This is a one chapter update because this chapter was 25 years long and I don't want my post to be also that long, even though you're all being super nice about it (thank you ♥).

previously, in harroweena the ninth:

this happened

now, chapter 6:

harrowbean wakes up and is taken somewhere in a wheelchair

we get no sleep in this ship

we get no face paint, no black robes, no sleep, no security from people who wanna suffocate you in your sleep, no explanations

lyctors need a union

as in unionization, not as in a combination of people, that they did when slurping their cavaliers

the person carrying her is very upset at everyone

turns out, she's a lyctor

her name is mercysomething

we have an ortus 2, a mercysomething and an augustine

harrow mentions eyes again and says that Lyctors "kept their own faces, but the eyes they stole from someone else. You had been lucky that your own transition was not as startling"

Lucky, you say...

I don't know about that

anyway, this mercysomething is supposed to be the saint of joy

I'm assuming lyctors are given their names through the ancient art of sarcasm

on that note

harrow: "if you had not of late become the Saint of Emesis"

me: wait, I gotta look something up real quick

me: yeah, that's funny

mercysomething is angry and in a hurry

a bunch of time is spent with mercysomething being angry and treating people like crap and being unpleasant

she's arguing with everyone she comes across and takes harrow to a hangar

yandere twin is sitting on a crate watching a necromancer make a ward with blood and bleeding to death in the process

harrow sits next to her and they are like sportscasters of blood-painted wards

according to the necrocasters, it's a ghost ward

yandere twin updates harrow on the fact that they're at war and they've been attacked and they're down to three Old Lyctors and two Baby Lyctors

it would explain why mercysomething is upset all the time

mercysomething wants to take the emperor somewhere else and the guy commanding the ship doesn't want to let him leave

emperor guy comes in and kind of does this to mercysomething

yandere twin and I are LIVING for all this pute/salseo/gossip/however you wanna call it

harrow isn't as interested

I complained in gideon because gideon wasn't interested in things I wanted to look into and now I'm gonna complain about harrow not being interested in Drama

emperor the fool says: "I know exactly who is behind this terrible blow, and they were fools to show their hand"

yandere twin and I

when emperor guy sees the necromancer bleeding out he goes "for fuck's sake"

it's a quote, not me being funny ha ha

remember when I said this guy is a mess?

that's becoming exponentially more evident

I want to punch him in the face at all times

I don't know how people can be respectful to this dude

the reason there isn't any face paint for harrow in this ship is that the emperor uses it every morning to paint on his clown face

they've been alive like 1000 years or whatnot and they're all a fucking group project going off the rails

so emperor guy, mercysomething, not!dulcinea (now in a coffin package), yandere twin and harrow get in a ship inside the ship

a smaller ship inside the big ship where the emperor has been for the past bunch of years

the small ship has the blood ward for the ghosts

but, before going in, emperor the fool fixes the necro that's bleeding to death

I honestly think she would have preferred to just die

which, same, if he was my boss

necros also need to unionize

cavaliers more than anyone tbh

if cavaliers unionized, idk if there would be any lyctors

emperor guy and mercysomething argue about people they know and we don't yet know

and mercysomething was telling harrow previously that the former ninth was prettier than her (anastasia, heart don't fail me now, courage don't desert me) and telling yandere twin the former third was prettier than her (cyrus? cyril? something like that)

which, absolutely juvenile behavior for someone who's like a 1000+ years of age or whatever

why would we care who she finds prettier????

ANYWAY, throughout this I was once again thinking

nobody here has G & P initials

it's been driving me mad this whole time

gideon and harrow found that former lyctor quarters

and it said "ONE FLESH, ONE END. G. & P."

that was before the note with gideon's name in it was read

and all this time I was thinking those were a set of necro-cav from the previous lyctors

but nobody here has those initials

the only P is the cavalier of Ortus 2 and there's no G

which is DRIVING ME MAD

if the G is the previous Gideon, the one not!dulcinea mentioned, it would explain why there was a note that mentioned a Gideon in the quarters

it would not, however, explain who the fuck that other gideon is, who P is and why they aren't in the list with the other combos

augustine is a former fifth because his cav's last name is quinque

mercysomething's from the eighth because her cav's last name is oct, and because she's annoying to be around

ortus 2 is from the second, because his cav's last name is dve

cyril cyrus whatev is from the third because the cav is trinit and mercysomething mentioned him to yandere twin, who is from the third

ulysses is from the fourth because the cav is tetra

not!dulcinea is seventh because the cav was heptane and because it was a very important thing in the previous book, as we've established

anastasia (dancing bears, painted wings) is from the ninth because the cav is novenary and she was mentioned to harrow

cassiopeia must be sixth, because it's what I have left, but I don't recognize the root of the last name to make a clear parallel from the top of my head

the emperor's guardian is A.L.

I'm taking note of an emperor's guardian who isn't around anymore

could it be ice cube barbie???? idk fam, she's looking at him a lot

giving me magic knight rayearth vibes again

this but with backstabbing instead of love

ANYWAY, all of this to point out that there's no G & P and it's driving me up the wall

now, to a very important thing

VERY IMPORTANT

for me, maybe it's just me

the enemies or whatever are called "remnants" and their leader apparently has been gone for "nearly 20 years"

this is me desperately making timelines with gideon's mom and gideon's birth and the 2 details I know about gideon's mom and her birth

you know what, I'm gonna quote, since I went to fetch it

"One day eighteen years ago, Gideon's mother had tumbled down the middle of the shaft in the drag chute and a battered hazard suit, like some moth drifting slowly down into the dark. The suit had been out of power for a couple of minutes. The woman landed brain-dead. All the battery power had been sucked away by a bio-container plugged into the suit, the kind you'd carry a transplant limb in, and inside that container was Gideon, only a day old."

I'm gonna just...put a pin on that that in the cork board

I don't know you guys, I'm just gonna

let me pin that

I'm probably being wrong a lot more than what I'm getting right but I'm just telling you what goes through my mind, if I'm making a fool of myself, it's too late to act like I'm not a fool

I am also putting my clown paint on like the emperor

MOVING ON

harrow thinks the emperor talks in plural about her at one point and idk if that's the case tbh

we then get emperor guy explaining how they need to go to their safe space base with a name I can't remember

a fancy name very lord-of-the-rings-y

let's call it emperor's mojo dojo casa house

and to get there as quick as they need to, they have to cut through the River

the one with the ghosties and ghoulies

that's what the ward was for

if they went through regular means, it'd take too long and, doing it this way, they could be there super fast, but they need to get in the River and come out the other way in the right spot

and intact

so it's this situation

so, in order to do that, they have to hold on to their souls and their cav souls and whatever they've got using the skills from the first test

I want to point out, once again, WHO PLANNED CANAAN HOUSE AS A TOOL TO GET LYCTORS TO LEARN THINGS?????

THEY WERE NOT DOING ALL THE TESTS

THEY WERE FIGHTING FOR THE KEYS

SOME DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THERE WERE TESTS TO BEGIN WITH

JUDITH WAS LIVING IN LAW AND ORDER

we didn't even get to all the tests, people started dropping like flies

because the emperor had one loose lyctor who thought she was in a telenovela

ANYWAY

the point is, if they drift too far while crossing the River, something else can come into their bodies

we did learn that, because it happened to duracell bunny nephew back in canaan house

but we learned it because mayonnaise uncle thought he was tough shit and ruined it, not because of the tests

harrow, doing her best, thinks "you felt alone in your head"

WHICH IS GREAT for our gideon notes

also, no camilla mention or appearance in this one

(I'm having a lizzie bennet theme going on for Reasons for the time being)

so, we're leaving harrow and yandere twin trying to learn for the first time how to not die by crossing the River because the emperor plans things terribly and mercysomething is too preoccupied being upset at everything all the time

[usafphantom2]

Most impressive thing I ever saw in two years adjacent to Kadena.

Quiet afternoon. Then the guys with the guns step aside and the hangar doors open.

The SR-71 slides out, dark as night and all business. There’s no waiting, it’s straight to the runway, a brief pause, and then- thunder, crazy acceleration, and it’s airborne. And in, what?- a minute and a half total?- it’s gone. Just gone.

You look back and the hangar doors are closed. The guys with the guns are standing motionless. It’s like nothing ever happened.

And you’ll never forget it.

@Habubrats71 via X

[rootedinrevisions]

Rooster's Shadow: Part 4

SUMMARY: Carly, Rooster, and others start to notice a change in Hangman. But now Hangman, Rooster, and Carly have to deal with the weight of the upcoming mission looming on the horizon.

WORD COUNT: 3.6K

WARNINGS: None.

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3

The sun was starting to sink below the horizon, casting long shadows over the tarmac as the last two aviators lingered near their jets. Most of the team had already headed back to base, but Rooster and Hangman stayed behind, caught in the silence that always followed a hard day of training.

Jake tugged at the collar of his flight suit, glancing sideways at Rooster as they began the long walk back to the hangar. Rooster’s face was unreadable, but there was a heaviness to his steps, a weight that Jake could feel in the space between them.

Neither had spoken since they’d landed, and the tension that always existed between them hung thick in the air. It was different now, though. There was no animosity or cockiness—just something unspoken that Jake could sense coming.

Rooster finally broke the silence, his voice low and steady. “You and Carly… you’ve been texting?”

Jake nodded, hands slipping into the pockets of his flight suit. “Yeah. Been taking it slow.”

Rooster gave a short, almost approving nod, but his gaze remained fixed on the horizon. “I haven’t seen you flirt with anyone at the bar in days,” he remarked, his tone neutral, but with a slight edge of surprise.

Jake smirked, though it lacked his usual swagger. “I told her I’d stop, and I meant it.”

Rooster stopped walking, turning to face Jake directly. His eyes, usually filled with irritation when he looked at Jake, held something different this time—something more serious. “Look, Hangman… I still don’t like you.”

Jake raised his brows but remained silent, waiting for Rooster to continue.

Rooster crossed his arms over his chest, his expression hard. “And if you hurt Carly, I’ll kill you. You know that, right?”

Jake swallowed, nodding. “I get it. You’re her brother. You’re supposed to protect her.”

“I’ve spent her whole life protecting her,” Rooster said, his voice low and tense. “She doesn’t deserve to get hurt by someone who’s just going to leave. She’s been through enough already.”

Jake’s eyes softened, understanding the depth of Rooster’s protective nature. “I’m not going to hurt her, Bradshaw. Not this time. I swear.”

There was a long pause, the silence heavy as Rooster studied Jake, looking for any sign of insincerity. After what felt like an eternity, Rooster exhaled slowly, uncrossing his arms.

“You seem different lately,” Rooster admitted, his voice quieter now. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ve noticed a change in you. At the bar, in training... you’re not the same cocky asshole I used to know.”

Jake looked down at the ground, the weight of Rooster’s words sinking in. He wasn’t sure when exactly the change had happened, but he felt it too. Carly had done something to him—something that made him want to be better.

“I don’t want to be that guy anymore,” Jake said quietly. “I want to be better for her.”

Rooster nodded slowly, but his expression grew serious again. After a moment of tense silence, he finally spoke again. “Does Carly know about the mission?”

Jake stiffened, the mention of the mission bringing a cold chill to the air. He shook his head slowly. “No… I haven’t told her.”

Rooster’s gaze hardened, and he took a step closer to Jake, lowering his voice. “You should tell her. She deserves to know.”

Jake swallowed hard, his chest tightening. He knew Rooster was right, but the thought of telling Carly made his heart sink. There was a strong chance he’d be selected for this mission. And there was an even stronger chance that someone wouldn’t make it back.

Rooster’s expression softened, but only slightly. He knew what Jake was thinking, and he didn’t envy him for it. “If you care about her like you say you do, don’t leave her in the dark.”

Jake met Rooster’s gaze, the weight of his words heavy between them. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. But in that silence, there was an understanding—a recognition that, for all the tension and rivalry between them, they were both thinking about Carly.

Rooster finally broke the stare, turning to walk back toward the hangar. “Just… don’t mess this up, Hangman,” he muttered over his shoulder.

Jake watched him go, the words still hanging in the air as he stood alone on the tarmac, the weight of the conversation pressing down on him. He knew what he had to do, but telling Carly about the mission… that was going to be harder than any battle he’d faced in the skies.

Jake stood outside Carly’s apartment, hands shoved deep into his pockets. His heart raced as he ran through the words he had to say, but nothing felt right. The mission had been moved up, and with that came a cold reality he couldn’t push aside any longer. He had to tell her.

He took a breath, knocking lightly on her door. Moments later, Carly opened it, her face lighting up as soon as she saw him. "Hey, you," she smiled, stepping aside to let him in. But the second Jake crossed the threshold, her expression faltered. Something was off. She could feel it.

“You okay?” Carly asked, leaning against the armrest of the couch, her brows knitting together in concern.

Jake stood in the middle of the room, his posture tense as he rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s something I need to talk to you about,” he began, his voice low. Carly’s stomach tightened.

“Okay…” She crossed her arms, taking a seat on the couch, her eyes locked on his.

“The mission…” Jake paused, then took a seat across from her, leaning forward. He rested his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together. “It’s been moved up. Tomorrow.”

Carly blinked, absorbing the information. She nodded slowly. “So… that means we’ll have to reschedule our date. That’s no big deal. We can do it when you get back.”

Jake smiled faintly at her attempt to keep things light, but the weight of what he needed to say was too heavy to let him follow along. He lowered his head for a moment before meeting her eyes again. “Carly… there’s more.”

Her breath caught, the seriousness in his tone making her heart pound. She stayed quiet, waiting.

Jake took another deep breath, his blue eyes locking onto hers. “I can’t give you all the details, but I need to be honest with you. There’s a good chance… it’s either going to be me or your brother flying this mission.”

“Jake…”

“And there’s a chance…a strong chance,” he continued, his voice steady but his eyes filled with the weight of what he was about to say, “that someone doesn’t come back.”

Silence fell between them. Carly could hear her own pulse in her ears, the weight of his words crashing down on her like a tidal wave. She tried to wrap her mind around it, but the thought of losing either Jake or her brother made her chest tighten painfully.

“You—” she started, but the words stuck in her throat. Her mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything he’d said. She’d known, on some level, that the danger came with the territory, but hearing it like this… so blunt, so real—it was different.

Jake watched her carefully, giving her space to process. He hated doing this to her—hated the way her face had gone pale, the way her hands were gripping the edge of the couch as if it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

After a long stretch of silence, Carly finally nodded, though her voice was barely above a whisper. “And there’s no way to know who it’ll be?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Jake shook his head. “No. We’ll find out tomorrow.”

Carly swallowed hard, her hands falling into her lap. She stared down at them for a while, her mind racing with thoughts of Jake, of Rooster, of the dangers they faced every day without her knowing. And now it was all crashing into reality.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she looked up at Jake again. “Can I spend one more night with you?” she asked softly, her voice laced with vulnerability.

Jake’s heart clenched at the request, but he nodded without hesitation. “Yeah,” he said, his voice just as soft. “Of course.”

Carly stood up, crossing the room to stand in front of him. Without a word, she reached out, taking his hand in hers. Jake squeezed it gently, pulling her close until she was standing between his legs. He rested his head against her stomach, wrapping his arms around her waist.

They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them heavy with unspoken fears. Carly gently ran her fingers through Jake’s hair, trying to commit this moment to memory. She didn’t want to think about tomorrow—didn’t want to think about what might happen. She just wanted to be here, with him, in this fleeting bubble of peace before the storm.

After a long pause, Jake finally lifted his head, meeting her gaze. “Do you want to stay here tonight? We can just watch a movie or something,” he said.

Carly shook her head slowly. “No,” she whispered. “Let’s go to the bar. I just… I want to be somewhere with you, around people.”

Jake nodded, standing up and pulling her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head before leading her toward the door. As they stepped out into the cool evening air, Jake slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as they walked.

Neither of them said much as they made their way to the bar, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a shared understanding—a mutual desire to make the most of the night, knowing full well that tomorrow could change everything.

The soft hum of the bar’s music floated through the air as Jake pushed open the door, Carly’s hand clasped firmly in his. For the first time since they’d been coming to The Hard Deck together, there was something different about the way they entered—together. No casual flirtation, no distance between them. They were unmistakably a couple tonight.

Carly glanced up at him, a soft smile on her lips as he squeezed her hand. He returned the smile, though a subtle tension lingered in his eyes. She knew he was thinking about tomorrow, just like she was. But tonight, they had agreed to push it aside—to focus on each other, on the people they cared about, and to enjoy the night while they could.

As they made their way through the crowd, the familiar faces of the squad came into view, laughing and clinking glasses at their usual table in the back. The second Rooster spotted Carly, his face softened, and she broke into a wide smile, letting go of Jake’s hand to rush over to her brother. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, holding on just a little longer than usual.

Rooster's brow furrowed as he hugged her back, and when she pulled away, he gave her a knowing look. “So… he told you, huh?”

Carly nodded, her lips pressed together in a small, tense smile.

Rooster let out a long breath, but then he placed his hands on her shoulders, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t think about it tonight,” he said quietly, his voice steady but kind. “We’ve got tonight, okay? Let’s make the most of it.”

Carly smiled softly, feeling the weight of her brother’s words sink in. For tonight, she’d try to forget.

Rooster’s gaze drifted over her shoulder to where Jake stood, watching the siblings’ exchange from a few feet away. There was a flicker of something between the two men—an unspoken understanding. For tonight, they’d call a truce.

Jake gave a small nod, and Rooster did the same, their silent agreement hanging in the air. Carly, sensing the tension ease, turned and walked back to Jake, slipping her hand into his. The warmth of his fingers wrapping around hers was reassuring.

The rest of the night unfolded like a dream. They found themselves laughing with the rest of the team, teasing each other like old friends. The usual dynamic was different—Jake, for once, wasn’t throwing out flirty comments at every woman who passed by. He stayed close to Carly, his hand on her waist or his arm slung around her shoulders. It wasn’t long before the teasing began.

Phoenix grinned across the table, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, well, looks like Hangman’s been tamed,” she teased, nudging Fanboy, who snickered in response.

Jake shot her a mock glare. “I haven’t been tamed,” he protested, though the soft smile that tugged at his lips betrayed him.

“Oh, come on,” Coyote chimed in with a laugh. “We all know Carly’s got you wrapped around her finger now. You can’t hide it.”

Carly laughed, leaning into Jake’s side as the team continued to rib him. “Don’t listen to them,” she whispered with a grin.

“Don’t worry,” Jake said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’m used to them by now.”

The mood lightened even further as the night went on. The bar filled with the sound of laughter and music, and soon enough, a few members of the team dragged Carly onto the makeshift dance floor. Jake stayed at the table for a moment, watching her spin and laugh, the weight of tomorrow temporarily lifted from her shoulders. Her happiness was contagious, and he found himself smiling at the sight of her.

Rooster leaned over from his seat next to Jake, clapping him on the shoulder. “You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “she doesn’t do this often. Let loose like this.”

Jake nodded, his gaze never leaving Carly as she danced, her laughter ringing out over the music. “I know,” he said, his voice thoughtful.

Rooster glanced at him, his expression softening. “You’d better take care of her.”

“I will,” Jake promised, and for once, there was no cocky smirk, no joking around. He meant it.

As the night wore on, the teasing continued, though the mood stayed light. At one point, someone found an old guitar behind the bar, and Maverick, of all people, took it upon himself to lead a round of singing. The whole team joined in, belting out old tunes, Carly included. Jake watched her, leaning back in his chair with a content smile on his face. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine more nights like this—more moments of laughter, of ease.

The rest of the night passed in a haze of joy and music, the bar a bubble of warmth and camaraderie. Carly found herself smiling more than she had in weeks, forgetting—if only for a little while—about what the next day might bring.

When the night finally started to wind down, Carly sat beside Jake at the table, her hand resting on his knee beneath the table. She leaned her head against his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh. “Thanks,” she whispered.

“For what?” Jake asked, glancing down at her.

“For this. For tonight. For making me forget.”

Jake smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head. “I’d do anything to make you forget tomorrow,” he murmured.

But tomorrow was coming, whether they wanted it to or not.

As the night drew to a close, the bar slowly emptied, leaving only a handful of stragglers and the soft hum of quiet conversation. Carly and Jake lingered longer than the others, the weight of the evening catching up to them. The stars above flickered faintly through the windows, casting a soft glow over the emptying room.

Outside, the ocean breeze was cooler than it had been earlier, the salty air wrapping around them as they stepped into the night. Carly’s hand was still tucked in Jake’s, but her grip tightened as they walked toward his truck. She hadn’t let go of him all night, and now, with the looming uncertainty of what tomorrow would bring, her chest felt heavy.

They stopped by the truck, the soft sounds of the waves crashing in the distance. Jake paused, his eyes scanning the horizon for a moment as if searching for the words he wanted to say. Carly could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his usual confidence seemed to falter under the weight of what was coming. Her heart tightened at the sight of him—this man who was always so sure of himself, now carrying a burden she could only begin to understand.

Carly broke the silence first, her voice soft and hesitant. “Jake?”

He turned to face her, his green eyes softening at the sound of her voice. “Yeah?”

She looked down, gathering the courage she needed to ask him what was weighing on her mind. “I… I know you can’t give me details about the mission,” she started, her voice catching slightly. “But I need to know—do you think…do you think you’ll…” She hesitated, not wanting to finish the question, the thought of it too painful to voice.

Jake’s expression softened further, and he reached out, cupping her cheek with his hand, his thumb brushing against her skin. “Don’t talk like that,” he murmured gently, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ll see me again. I promise.”

Carly nodded, though the lump in her throat grew tighter. She wished she could believe him—wanted so badly to believe that everything would be okay. But she wasn’t naive. She knew the risks he was facing, the danger that came with every mission. And she also knew that promises, no matter how heartfelt, couldn’t change what might happen tomorrow.

Her eyes lifted to meet his, and the words slipped from her lips before she could stop them. “Kiss me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “In case I don’t get to later.”

Jake’s breath caught in his throat at her words, and for a moment, neither of them moved. His hand lingered on her cheek, his thumb still tracing gentle circles against her skin. He could see the fear in her eyes, the vulnerability she was trying to hide beneath her strength. And even though he hated hearing her talk like that, he knew the truth of it, knew better than she did what tomorrow might bring.

“Carly,” he started, his voice strained. “Don’t—”

“Please,” she interrupted, her voice breaking. “Just… kiss me, Jake. I need this.”

Her plea tore at him, and he didn’t hesitate any longer. His free hand slipped to the back of her neck, pulling her closer until their lips met. The kiss was slow, tender, but filled with all the emotion they hadn’t spoken. It was a goodbye, though neither of them wanted to admit it—a kiss that carried the weight of everything unsaid between them.

Carly melted into him, her hands clutching at his jacket as if she could anchor herself to this moment, to him. She didn’t want to think about what tomorrow might bring, didn’t want to imagine a world without him in it. All she knew was that she didn’t want to let go.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, both of them breathing heavily, their hearts racing in unison. Carly’s eyes fluttered open, tears brimming at the corners, but she blinked them away quickly, not wanting him to see.

Jake’s hands slid down her arms until they rested on her waist, holding her close. “You’ll see me again,” he repeated softly, though the crack in his voice betrayed the fear he was trying so hard to keep hidden.

Carly swallowed hard, nodding even though the words felt like a fragile hope. “You’d better make it back alive,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Jake chuckled softly at that, the sound rumbling in his chest, though there was no humor in it. “I’d hate to miss out on whatever’s next.”

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab

[anonymityisfunwriter]

angel eyes.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x Reader Summary - There's a price for those few months of paradise, a price for allowing yourself to be hypnotized. You'll never be the same, but you're not sure you'll ever regret peering into those angeleyes.

a.n. - day 4!!! hope you guys are enjoying! i swear i do not hate steve. i promise i love him. i'm making it a goal to write something nice about him. probably. at some point.

Steve Rogers Masterlist | AnonymityisFun’s SongFics Anon's Birthday Celebration

"I'll see you later," you chuckle against his lips. You lightly push him away with a snort, "Go. You're gonna be late."

"I'm going. I'm going," he laughs. He pulls you back by your waist, "But maybe just another kiss. For good luck."

"Go!"

"Fine," he dramatically sighs, refusing to drop your hand. "If I have to."

"You have to."

He spares another tender kiss, gripping the back of your neck, "I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Can't wait."

You watch him walk down the hangar to the Quinjet where his team waits for him. You can't help but wonder how you got so lucky, how you had earned the privilege of looking into those angel eyes.

"It's the eyes, you know."

You jolt at the familiar voice. "Sharon..."

She offers an apologetic smile, as though she knows the last person you want to see is Steve's ex-girlfriend. "I'm just - it's the eyes. It's a game he likes to play. Don't look too deep into them."

"Sharon, I..."

She sucks in a shaky breath, her eyes once bright and determined, now tired and almost... lifeless like she'd been burnt out and drained dry. "I wish someone would've warned me. I swear I mean you no harm. Just be careful."

Her words echo in your mind until Steve returns later that night.

It eats as you. Don't look into those angeleyes, she said. Those eyes you had the privilege of peering into day in and out. The eyes that you loved so deeply. How could you ever stop gazing into them?

"Steve?" It falls out of your mouth as you sit before empty plates, the meal you home cooked for him now cold. "What happened between you and Sharon?"

His eyebrows furrow, clearly thrown off by the question, "Sharon?"

"I guess I'm just curious."

"Did she say something to you?"

"I saw her earlier. She told me to be careful."

"To be careful? What, with me?"

You shrug, keeping the details of her warning close to your chest. "I don't know. Maybe."

He scoffs, "She was just - she was high maintenance. She wanted more than I could give her."

"Like what?"

He lets out a huff of air, his eyes rolling, "Like everything. It wasn't enough for her. Nothing I ever did was enough for her."

"Oh."

"Just don't listen to her. Okay?"

You nod, "Okay."

"That's what I love about you, you know." He stands, rounding himself to stand behind your seat. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. "You're not like other girls. You don't ask for too much. You're okay with keeping things casual."

"Casual?"

You only wish you would've listened to her warning. You wish you wouldn't have dismissed her as Steve's heartbroken ex.

It was so dream like. You're not entirely convinced you weren't hypnotized by those angel eyes. You fell face first into his paradise.

Dreamy nights spent with him whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Lazy mornings spent in his kitchen.

You didn't see the mask slip until it was too late.

Not until you're the one asking for too much.

Not until you're the one he can no longer maintain.

Not until you're exactly like Sharon Carter.

Long after he discards you, you happen upon him one night. You're simply taking a late night around the perimeter of the Compound, one of the few bits of peace that you have in the aftermath of Steve Rogers.

And there he is. Standing there with a younger girl.

The look he gives her sends shivers down your spine. It's the way he used to look at you.

It occurs to you that she is you. The you from months ago. The you that fell into a blind paradise with Steve Rogers.

It's hopeless against those eyes. Against that perfect smile. Against him. One look and you're hypnotized. You know firsthand how easy it is to fall into the trance.

It's only in retrospect that you realize why his eyes were so angelic. Why they were so bright. Why they were so full of life and hope. It was the same reason that Sharon's eyes were so dull. Why you could hardly recognize yourself anymore. Because Steve Rogers is a man who takes. He takes and takes until there's nothing left.

You should warn her. You should offer her the same kindness Sharon Carter offered you. Maybe she'll use the wisdom better than you did.

The moment he leaves her standing alone in the pale moonlight, it's your one and likely only chance.

You approach her. As you gently touch her shoulder, you briefly wonder if you like exactly like Sharon Carter did when she warned you. Did your eyes look as lifeless and burned out as hers did? Did Steve's eyes glow even brighter because of it?

"Don't look too deep into those angel eyes."

Steve Rogers Masterlist Anon's Birthday Celebration

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064 @michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @withyoutilltheendoftheline @the-photo-hoe @rae-nna @sarachabeans1@double-shot-of-tequila @spookyparadisesheep @lunaalovesyouu @daisy-loves-bucky@roseproseposts @theoraekenslover@king814318 @maybesomedaytho @carlie-babes99 @sunshinechikin @as-white-as-snow-love @melala1030 @badasswlthafatass @armystay89 @multiversefanfics @cherrysscinema @breathlesspieceofdeath @ravenn-darkholme @bxckybxrnes24 @guiltyasreid @bellabarnes1378 @blithecapricorn @mrsnikstan

[korpuskat]

Spectrum

[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader Rating: Mature (sexual content referenced, but not explicit) WC: 2,918 Warnings: None Sequel to In A Different Light -----

The lackey behind the counter hardly looks up, barely says anything as they pass you the repair request forms. It's fine, you get it. Menial labor, repetitive office bullshit, dealing with the guys who walk their mechs into walls when training while trying to avoid the higher-ups gaze. Normal Talon stuff. This is perfectly true until he asks you what floor of the barracks you're on, what wing.

And suddenly the lady behind him perks up. She doesn't even try to hide how she looks you over, making some unspoken assessment, then grins and returns to her tablet.

The barely suppressed smile infects his voice with excitement. "Don't suppose you're in 1813, are you?"

Oh. Fuck. "Yeah, I am."

"Kinda wondering when you'd make it down here." He says, typing in your information. "If you would."

You shouldn't say anything. You really, really shouldn't.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Oh, you know." He grins at you, fucking winks like you're in on the joke. "There was a pool if you'd be here or the infirmary first."

The infirmary? Why would you- actually, he did break your bed and leave a hole in your wall and you have had this peculiar ache behind your belly button and you definitely have huge purple splotches over your hips where he'd grabbed you, so, okay, that's fair.

"I guess you won then." Is the light-lipped answer you come up with, unsure how to explain that you really don't want to be part of this conversation anymore. Please, just fix your bed and wall. Gossip when you're not around.

The guy opens his mouth- and you feel it before his expression changes. A cool wind brushes against the back of your neck, down your spine, over the backs of your arms. Sickly, somehow, like the air itself clings to you, crawls on you. Everyone behind the counter looks away. His joy is gone, but the fear is carefully masked. "Reason for repairs?"

Behind you, boots stomp by. He doesn't leave, from the sound, from the way nobody exhales. You don't look, keep your eyes trained on the counter, on a little fleck where the linoleum is peeling away. He's somewhere in a corner, waiting for something. "Accident."

The lackey visibly cringes. Suddenly he, too, doesn't want to be in this conversation. "Gotta be more specific."

Fucker. Your voice is barely restrained as you bite out, "Sparring accident."

Behind you, the Reaper snorts.

When Ramattra returns to your base, perhaps only two weeks later, you really expect him to just proceed as business as usual. Like nothing had happened; he'd sated his curiosity, you're off his radar. Figuratively. You do not, under any circumstances, expect to be pulled off regular duties to be part of his temporary squadron.

It's a formality. He doesn't need one. He's here to inspect an airship, to discuss modifications to be made before it goes into mass production.

With an irritated sigh and wave of his hand, he summarily dismisses the entire squadron as soon as he sees them waiting in the hangar. The rest leave. You should join them. It's so... presumptuous, to think he thinks about you, that he even remembers you. He's leading a revolution for his people and you're a grunt he fucked once. But your boots may as well have been glued to the floor, no matter how much you want to scream at yourself to move, to turn away, you can't.

And his gaze settles on you.

And he nods towards the airship's ramp.

You follow behind him.

It's the first time you watch him leave. Every time before- three, now, not that you're counting- he's quietly departed your quarters. After making sure you're well cared for. That part had always confused you- left your chest aching in a way completely different than your hips.

But this time, you're not left alone in your mattress working up the courage to go file a repair request again. No, as part of his squadron you get to see him off this time. It's all a show, Ramattra had complained about it before- serves nothing but to boost their little human egos. He wasn't wrong, there's no need for you to be here. In fact, you really don't want to be here.

You've never seen Doomfist in person, but he personally escorts Ramattra to his shuttle. He speaks confidently, but quietly enough you can't make out what he's saying, even as he gestures broadly with his cybernetic arm. Even seeing him content makes your stomach flip uneasily, not wanting to be around if something does go wrong.

Ramattra... looks different. It's hard to believe how quickly you've become used to seeing him relaxed. Not just when he's moving in you- no, even when he sits with you, walks about the base, he never looks like this anymore. All seriousness and focused, the weight of the world back on his shoulders.

They speak a moment more, then Ramattra bows his head and turns towards his ship. He stops-

and across the launch bay, Ramattra's faceplate turns towards you. He pauses. Says nothing, hardly moves- but you know. He's looking directly at you. You stare back, unsure why you have his attention now- and ever so slightly his head dips. A tiny nod goodbye, just for you.

Your chest aches.

You smile slightly and nod back- and he's gone, entering his ship and flying away.

You don’t know who finally made the call to assign Ramattra temporary quarters at your base, but you would love to have seen that conversation. Because Ramattra’s voice is perfectly neutral as he comments that his quarters had not only a heavy duty, solid steel bed frame to support his weight- nevermind that he doesn’t sleep- but also reinforced walls.

They knew, of course. But the fact that someone high up enough knew to make the recommendation is what really gets you. Because nobody has said anything to you. Maybe they’re smart enough to- you doubt Ramattra would be particularly pleased with you being public knowledge.

And, well, not saying anything has ended up being your approach with Ramattra so far, too. Despite the frequency that he’d return to your doorway (and now you to his), or the repeated repair requests and occasional trips to medical and skeptical looks in return, you’d never explicitly asked what was going on. What exactly you were to him.

And normally that would be fine! Soldier’s bond or whatever, some bullshit to say “logistically and emotionally easiest lay.” It’s common enough. But you’ve never laid in a squadmate’s bed hours after, never dozed lightly in someone else’s blankets as they work at the desk a foot away- and never felt that perhaps that was still too far from you.

It’s the latter right now that sits heavy on your chest.

You shift beneath his sheets- a silky, deep purple that ripples with every moment. You watch, silent, as he turns some kind of device in his hands, taps it occasionally with an electric soldering iron. You sit up slowly, lean into his pillows. Even the pillowcases match. Probably actual silk knowing Talon’s propensity to keep their board members happy. Fuckers. He doesn’t even meditate on the bed.

“Ramattra,” The question bubbles out of you before you can stop it. “Can I… kiss you?”

He stills. But here, you must acknowledge how close you’ve gotten- because you can tell. Where someone else may feel that pang of fear, that his quiet is a wind-up to rage or impatience or condescension, no, you can read his shoulders perfectly. He’s genuinely contemplating the request.

He looks to you, and he doesn’t need a face for you to feel the incredulity in his voice. “You do understand I do not possess a mouth, correct?”

“I know.” You stand and sweep one thin blanket with you as you move to him. And here- he turns away from his project, sets his iron down, opens his arms for you. When you settle into his lap, he supports you- and when you reach for his face, his jaw, he lowers his head into your touch. You sweep a thumb across the lowest part of the white composite, feel the little crease between it and the purple of his jaw plate. “But I could still kiss you..”

His whole face rumbles into your palm as he hums, considering this. “Alright, though I do not understand what you would gain from this.”

And that is a lie, though you’re not sure who it’s for. It’s fine though, you don’t call him on it. Instead, you guide his head down as you stretch up- until your breath ghosts against him, leaving little puffs of foggy condensation. And you kiss him. Right across the seam between his plates, your lips squishing into the gap, flattening against his metal.

And it would be like kissing a training bot, all cold, motionless metal against your lips- and that must be what he expects you to feel, his disbelief you’d get anything from this. It would be, except for everything else about him. His hands come up to the curve of your spine, to the back of your head, cradling you so gently- and even with such a small display, his fans kick up, a quiet hum purring a hair louder from his chest. Without a mouth, he’s hardly unaffected- and against his faceplate you smile and pull away. His optics cannot, by design, be half-lidded and glazed, but you think they would be if they could.

“Did that… satisfy you?” He rumbles lowly.

“For now.” You grin and tuck yourself deeper into his lap. When he realizes you have no intention of returning to his bed, he makes a show of sighing and adjusting the stolen blanket so you’re well-wrapped and all the ends are tucked safely away before he returns to his work.

"Can I ask you a question?" You murmur, eyes still closed. He's foregone the blanket this time, holding you right up against his chest; you had curled up with him so quickly he hasn't even had time to put his paneling back on. The spars of his ribs are a little uncomfortable, but he's still so warm that you can't complain.

"Of course." His systems have already refreshed, perfectly capable of going on with his day. Unlike you, you're still wavering and floaty and in need of a shower. He's used to it. Being able to hold you afterwards is... enjoyable. He allows himself to trace shapes over your skin. He had noticed, once, how you smile softly when he does it.

"It's personal."

Ramattra's head shifts, looks down at you slightly. He's told you about himself. About the times before he was himself, about the Shambali, about the slave shops he's destroyed, about London. About Lanet. What could you possibly ask that you felt the need to warn him about first? "Go on."

"Who did you make your dick for?" Oh. He shifts awkwardly, ceases the motions of his hands. When he doesn't answer you continue, "You told me you didn't make it for humans, so, I dunno. Was just curious."

It takes several moments before he can manage to put together a stilted "Does it matter?"

You hum softly and lean back against him. "No." You swap the places of your hand with his, sweeping your thumb across the purple plating. You really didn't want to upset him- the likelihood his previous relationships have ended particularly badly is ridiculously high. "It's okay, you don't have to tell me about your exes. Like I said, just curious."

Ramattra has never quite understood the desire to grimace until now. It's not important, and yet... that annoying little whisper has returned to his circuits, prodding at his runtimes until he's forcing the words through his synth. "I don't... have any... 'exes'."

This makes the gears turn in your head. There's no way. "Like... you just didn't stay with any of them?" Even as hectic as his life has been, you cannot reconcile how tenderly he's holding you with him previously being a smash and dasher. It would make sense logistically- no danger of loss or being tied down and losing focus on his work, but… there’s just no way.

"No." He all but squirms. "I never used it before you."

"What?"

"I designed it for..." His voice cuts out as his vocoder fights him again. "...a particular omnic. To their model's... specifications. But I never used it."

You twist around in his arms, as much as he'd prefer you didn't. It's uncomfortable enough without having to see your face, without his still-not-put-away dick pressed between your bodies. "But... you told me you'd fucked before."

Around you, Ramattra bristles, his fans ramping up, his hands firming where they touch you. Too far, you did upset him. "Omnics do not need things as crude as genitals to be intimate."

The pieces come together. Not an ex, they'd been intimate, enough that he'd designed a dick just to hope, but never used it. He wanted more. You slide a hand around Ramattra's neck, over the dark plating his cowl usually hides. Normally, when you slide your fingers around the chunky cables of his mane, he'll purr or at least relax- no such luck. "Sorry," You murmur, and trace a finger along the long line of his jaw piece. "Thank you for telling me."

It takes a few moments, but eventually a soft stream of hot air slips from Ramattra's vents and he sighs. You take the cue and curl up close to him, wrapping your arms around him as best you can with his wide chest. When you think he's calmed enough, you do tack on one last comment. "I am glad you made it, though."

Thankfully, Ramattra laughs softly at that.

Ramattra holds white papers in his hand, carefully held between the rubber pads there, delicate as to not crease them before you can read them. His other hand twitches as his side, then balls into a fist. He does not meet your gaze when he enters his room. He stands there, just past the doorway, clenching and unclenching his fist, his fans slowly amping up.

"Rama?" You prompt him when he still doesn’t say anything, already scooting to the edge of his bed.

"I have to attend to the construction of a titan in person." It's flat, a statement, no particular inflection in his voice where you're clearly expecting something else. "I won't be able to return here for several weeks. At minimum."

Now it's you who looks away. It's a disappointment. You knew it was coming, three days together was already an incredible luxury. "Ah, I see." He's busy, you know this. Lots of hard work running an entire revolution almost by yourself. And you can't fault him for it- can't ask him to postpone. It's important work. "When will you have to leave?"

"Five hours. I'm also chartering transport of supplies. My omnium is short on copper wire, of all things." He says- and his focus shifts from the floor to the paper in his hands. He rubs it, watches as the paper flexes and bends, then returns to normal. You, too, observe his fidgeting and wait for the shoe to drop. You've always kind of waited for it.

"Are you- " He starts- and his synth immediately fizzles. The hand at his side tightens in frustration as he reboots it. "Are you pleased with... this?" The paper flops in his hand as he gestures vaguely between you.

This.

Never did have that conversation.

You bite your tongue, chance looking at him. None of the strain in his vocoder has made it to his faceplate, forever stuck in that passive, almost angry expression. "Yeah." If he wants to kick you out, that's fine, but you aren't going to lie about it. His visits to your base have easily become the best part of your job, the occasional message of where he is, of when he can make it back to you- it's completely different than anything you've had before. "Yeah, actually."

Ramattra's shoulders drop. "You are sure? Genuinely?"

You nod. And he holds out the paper. You don't even unfold it before he's explaining. "It's a reassignment order. Production of Null Troopers is increasing geometrically; ideally I would oversee all production lines directly from here on. It would be... advantageous to have someone else coordinate with Talon on my behalf while I am engaged with this.

"I will be very occupied. This is a critical period of staging. And I would be relying on you." Ramattra says, and there's a sternness laid over top. He wants it to sound like a job offer, to sound serious. It is, to some degree. But more than that-

"You..." The top of the paper is printed with Talon's logo, a big block of text follows, beneath is a signature line. Your eyes skim the page again- and read the most important line. Relocate to meet the needs of Null Sector. "You want me to come with you?"

A breath of silence takes the room, until he steps closer and takes one of your hands in his. So gently, he drags the rubber pad of his thumb over your knuckles. His faceplate focuses there, on the delicate bones of your hand, your wrist. "It would... please me greatly to keep you near."

The ache in your chest blooms out, spills over your cheeks.

[callsign-dexter]

My Brother's Wingman 18+

Request: Ok... I debated with myself, but... I'm gonna be a selfish bitch now and some idea in as a Bday present for me (even if its still coming on friday) and I hope you dont mind <3 

So I'd have MAJOR Rooster feels, you cant imagine! Thats why I thought about something with him, where she's Jake's sister and they have some kind of secret affair, as Bradley is slightly scared of what would happen if Jake finds out. Soo they sneak around for some time until one day you're both at Mavs hangar working on a plane (while he's gone with Penny and let's you over) and you get really turned on by Bradley being sweaty and covered in dirt, soo you somehow end up sleeping there together but later Jake comes there as he was looking for Bradley and catches you both, so you have to explain everything and Bradley fears the worst. Luckily Jakes cant do much against true love and finds his peace with it ? 

Omg does that makes sense? I'm also so so sorry it's gotten so long :O

Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x Seresin!Navy SEAL!Reader, Jake Seresin x Navy SEAL!Twin Sister!Reader

Warnings: fluff, smut

A/N: Happy belated birthday to the anon that sent this in and I'm sorry that it is late. I hope you enjoy! Also @talesofreading and @imagine-all-the-fandoms prepare yourselves it gets steamy!

Jake Seresin had a twin sister, you, that was almost a female version of him but could bring him down back to earth when he got too high and mighty. You both knew how to push each other’s buttons and you both did it out of love even if it seemed like you both were harsh to each other. You were a Navy SEAL and loved it, you really thought about becoming a pilot like your brother but you loved being on the ground more and plus you got to deal with guns and more combat.

You had been stationed at Naval Amphibious Base, in Coronado which was only 28 minutes away from where your brother was stationed now. Occasionally you would go down and visit him and go to a bar called The Hard Deck and have a few drinks with him and his new squad and you liked them all but one in particular caught your eye. When you saw him, he always had a Hawaiian shirt on with a white shirt underneath and form fitting jeans that hugged him everywhere and in all the right places, he also had this mustache that you could only imagine all the pleasure that it could bring you. It seemed like you had caught his eye too because he had been looking at you nonstop and you would only know this because you had been looking at him nonstop as well and throwing your signature Seresin smirk his way.

——————————————————————

You had just arrived at The Hard Deck after your brother practically begged you to come and you finally broke down and said yes. You had just gotten back from a deployment and were more than eager to blow off some steam. You walked into the bar and looked around to find it filled with civilians, aviators, and tag chasers. You hadn’t come in your uniform because you didn’t want to be in it any longer even though you absolutely loved being in it but not at this moment. You immediately saw the blond haired, cocky, and full of himself aviator that was your brother. You walked over to him and pulled the pool stick from his grasp and took the shot yourself and sunk the ball and you smirked as you came up. “Hello, sister.” He said and you turned around to him.

“Why hello there, little brother.” You said he rolled his eyes.

“By one minute.” He said but pulled you in a hug and then you pulled away and looked at everyone who was silent and stunned.

“Aren’t you gonna introduce your sister to us, Hangman?” A guy a Hawaiian shirt and a mustache said and when you said that he looked good, he really looked good enough that you wanted to pull him inside the bathroom and do him right then and there. He had yet taken his eyes off you and you and you didn’t mind at all.

“Rooster this is my twin sister-“ Jake began

“Older sister.” You said smirking and looking at him for a second and then your eyes were back on Bradley and again he rolled his eyes.

“By one minute. As I was saying this is my twin sister, Y/N ‘Bullseye’ Seresin. She’s a Navy SEAL and off limits to anyone.” He said and you rolled your eyes.

“Well Y/N it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Bradley Bradshaw.” Bradley said and sent a smirk of his own. Everyone went around and introduced him themselves with their names and their callsigns. You also learned that he was your brother’s wingman.

“Bullseye. How did you get that name?” Bob asked and you smiled at him.

“It’s because I never miss my target that I’m aiming at.” You said and Bradley could’ve sworn he was falling more in love and that his jeans were becoming a little tight. “I’m gonna get something to drink. Anybody want anything?” You asked and they nodded and told you what they wanted as you were walking up to the bar Bradley stopped you by the wrist.

“I’ll help you.” He said and when you looked over to your brother, he had this look on his face but you just smirked and dismissed it and headed to the bar with Bradley. You arrived there and Bradley flagged down what looked like to be the owner. She walked over and smiled.

“I haven’t seen you around before. I’m Penny.” She said and smiled a sweet smile that reminded you of a mother.

“I’m Y/N Seresin I’m visiting my brother.” You said and smiled and she nodded letting you know that she knew him.

“Ahhh so you’re her. He’s told us a lot about you.” She said

“All good things. I hope.” You said and she nodded.

“What can I get you two?” She asked

“Another round for the group and whatever she is having.” He pointed to you.

“I’ll take what my idiotic brother is having and put it on his tab.” You said and she nodded and chuckled and got to work.

“So how long have you been a SEAL?” He asked you and you turned to look at him.

“For as long as Jake has been an aviator. We went into the academy together and then we split paths but still stayed in touch with each other.” You said and he nodded

“Have you always wanted to be in the Navy SEAL?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yea I have. Mostly to get under my parent’s skin but it really spoke to me.” You said and he nodded and about that time Penny came back with the drinks and then you walked back over to the group and they took their drinks. The rest of the night was filled with drinking and getting to know each other and getting the chance to knock Jake down a peg and embarrass the shit out of him which you did with a smirk. After the embarrass the shit of your brother came to an end and everyone went to their other activities you slipped outside to grab some fresh air and look out over the ocean. You weren’t out there long when you felt someone slide up next to you. You turned and looked at the person and saw that it was Bradley and you smiled.

“Needed a break?” He asked and you nodded

“Yea, it was getting a little hot in there.” You told him you both looked at each other for a minute and then you both were leaning in until your lips touched and the sparks flew. You pulled away when air was needed.

“I really like you.” He said and you smirked.

“I really like you too.” You said and then you both leaned back in and the rest was history.

——————————————————————

You and Bradley had been dating for 3 years and somehow managed to keep it a secret from your brother, and that was amazing because you were either there in San Diego on the weekends and would visit your brother or Bradley was at your place in Coronado. It had been your weekend to stay over at Bradley’s, he told you that he was going to be staying at Maverick’s, you had met him during your time visiting your brother and now boyfriend and you both really hit it off, hangar so he could work on a plane that he and Bradley had started to restore. You and Bradley have agreed to meet at his home and then he would drive to the hanger in his Bronco and grab some food on the way there. You both had just arrived at the hangar and after some making out you both got out and headed into the building it was late when you got there so you both figured you would eat and then he would work on the plane while you watched.

The next morning you both slept in but not for long because of your guys’ internal alarm clock and you both were up and heading out of the trailer. Bradley made you breakfast and as you both at cuddled up to each other you both enjoyed the comfort of each other. “Have you thought about telling my brother?” You asked him as you both had finished eating and you put your plates on the table in front of you.

“I’ve thought about it but scared about his reaction.” He said and you nodded “You?” He asked.

“I thought about it but I like keeping it a secret. He knows I’m seeing someone but he doesn’t know who and it’s driving him insane and I love it.” You said looking up at him and chuckled.

“I have to admit it is fun. He also knows I’m seeing someone but doesn’t know who.” He said and you chuckled. You both talked for a little bit and then you sat back and watched him work the plane and looked at the pictures and other things around the hangar. Every now and then you would look over and watch the muscles in Bradley’s back flex and it was slowly turning you on. He would occasionally turn around and look at you and you could see the dirt and grease smeared across his forehead and the sweat that was covering his forehead. You bit your lip as he turned back around and continued to work. You pressed your thighs together just thinking about him taking you right then and there all sweaty. It wasn’t long until you couldn’t take it anymore and slowly made your way to him and slid your hands up his back feeling his muscles work and then around his waist. He stopped what he was doing and turned his head where you captured his lips into a fiery passionate kiss, he brought his arms down and turned around dropping the tool he had in his hand neither of you caring. He brought his hands to your waist and slowly backed you up until you hit the shelf.

You looped your finger through his belt loops and tugged him closer enough to feel his erection through his form fitting jeans. He licked your bottom lip and you opened your mouth and his tongue slid into your mouth and your tongues battled for dominance until his won. You only pulled away when air was needed. Bradley’s pupils were blown with lust to the point where his irises weren’t visible. “You’re so sexy.” You said and that seemed to do something within him because he was attacking your neck in and you allowed him access he sucked and bit to the point you knew there was going to be hickeys. He trailed his hands down to the back of your thighs and patted them lightly signaling you to jump and you did so. This wasn’t the first time you both had sex together and each time you did so it felt like the first time and it was always so fiery and passionate but rough at the same time and you loved it and so did he.

Bradley walked towards the trailer and blindly opened it and then walked to the bed and then gently threw you onto you which made you squeal but then he climbed up and attacked your neck again which made you moan. “Bradley.” You moaned out and he slightly rubbed his clothed erection on your clothed core and you moaned again. He let up and smirked and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I love it when you moan my name.” He said and then he was quick to shed his clothing and then he helped you get rid of yours until both were naked in front of reach other “Absolutely beautiful.” He said and your thighs clenched together around nothing. He brought his hand up to your soaked core and ran a finger up and down your folds “So wet for me.” He said and you nodded and moaned.

“You’re the only one.” You said and moaned when he slipped a finger in and rubbed your clit at the same time. Once he felt like you were ready, he pulled out and you whimpered at the loss of contact. You didn’t have to wait long until you felt him slide his erect cock up and down and then you both moaned as he slid into you. Your hands went his shoulders and dug your blunt nails into his shoulder blades as he set a slow and steady space. He put all of his weight on his elbows and continued a slow and stead pace. “Faster.” You moaned out and he did as you asked and picked up his pace.

“So tight. Always so tight when I fuck into you.” He said and moaned out he hit all right places and knew exactly where to hit to find your g-spot and when he did you felt the rubber band in your stomach tighten.

“Bradley, so close.” You said and he nodded.

“Hang on baby.” He said as he picked up his pace he started to sweat more and you had started to sweat as well. His thrusting was starting to get sloppy. “I’m close, baby. Cum with me.” He said and then he changed his angle to thrust deeper in you and that what made you come undone and you came hard as he came painting your walls white. He stayed put catching his breath while you caught yours. He slowly slid out of you and then laid beside you.

“That was perfect. Just like all the other times.” You said and turned your head to him and kissed him.

“You’re perfect.” He spoke. Both of you laid there for a few minutes and cuddled until your stomach growled and you both laughed. “I’ll go and get some dinner started.” He said and you nodded and laid there basking in the after sex high. Once you felt like you could walk you got up and put on your jeans and his shirt. You joined him and watched him cook and when he was done, he handed you your plate and then he sat down beside you on the couch that Maverick put in not that long ago and you both ate dinner and then headed to bed. Bradley closed the hangar up making sure everything was secure and pulled The Bronco inside. The both of you headed inside of the trailer and headed to bed.

The next morning you woke up after Bradley and your hand went to his side but you felt it was empty but still warm this confused you but you didn’t have a long time to be confused because you heard what sounded like your brother’s voice.

“Hey, Rooster! Maverick told me you were going to be here.” The voice said

“What’s up?” Bradley asked

“I needed the plans for the new Top Gun class that’s coming in on Monday.” He said

“Yea, they’re in The Bronco. I was gonna work on them this weekend but got distracted.” He said and they both headed to the car and that is when you decided to make your presence known. You got up and luckily was still dressed and walked out of the trailer.

“Jake?” You asked and he turned around not expecting someone else to be there as you walked closer to him.

“Y/N/N?” He asked and then Bradley turned around wide eyed. “What are you doing here?” He asked and you didn’t speak but then he turned to Bradley and he had a look of a deer caught in headlights. Jake went back and forth from you to him and then he took in your clothing. “Is that Bradshaw’s shirt?” He asked and again he got no answer.

“Jake.” You began “We can explain.” You said and he nodded and then you looked at Bradley and walked over to him and stood next to him and Jake turned to look at you both. “We’ve been together for 3 years. We both had fallen in love with each other 3 years ago when I met you down at The Hard Deck.” You said expecting him to be mad and lash out as you leaned into Bradley and he put an arm around you but he didn’t.

“I’m not mad.” He said and you made a face of shock and so did Bradley.

“You’re not?” You asked and he shook his head.

“No. I’m surprised you kept it a secret this long but I can’t be mad at true love.” He said and both you and Bradley sighed in relief “Besides I had my suspicions especially since Rooster kept disappearing every other weekend up close to your base and when you came down here to supposedly see me.” He said with a smirk “I’m happy for the both of you and I’m happy it was Rooster that you had fallen in love with.” He said.

“That means so much to us.” Bradley said and you nodded.

“Now those plans.” Jake said and Bradley nodded and grabbed them and the three of you headed over to the table and couch and you sat quietly thinking as they worked. You smiled watching the two people you love work together and get along, any other boyfriend would’ve only lasted a week around Jake but he was just being protective of his twin sister. You were just happy to finally have someone that loved you just as equally and maybe a little bit more than your brother. You knew everything was going to be fine and nothing in the world could split you apart from the two men you loved and held so close to your heart.

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[in1-nutshell]

I would like to request Fearless getting a trip to earth, finally being able to meet up with their crush.  Only for the lost light to be completely obvious in their spying.  The two of them are out at a cafe, the same sports car has driven by several times, two ‘grandmas’ are at another nearby table, who happen to have exactly the same wigs and comically cartoon looking nightdresses because that's what grandmothers wear right?  Someone is watching the two of them from over a newspaper.  That baby has a fake mustache.  There's a pair of binoculars popping out of a bush.  The crush is completely oblivious to this while Fearless is feeling fear for the first time.  And finally, Whirl appears in his holoform.  “Fearless, is this a friend of yours?”  “He’s my… sister.”  Who knows where Megs is or how hes actually handling this.

Now some Fearless fluff to balance yesterday's angst.

Hope you enjoy!

Fearless meeting their crush in person

SFW, Platonic, Hinted romance, Familial, Human reader

MTMTE

Fearless’s superiors had called in and had scheduled them to come to Earth for a couple of days.

They were lucky that the Lost Light managed to travel close to Earth on time.

There was a good number of bots excitedly talking about sight seeing and talking about old stories about their time stationed on Earth.

Fearless was just happy to be on Earth for a bit.

It certainly would be a good change of scenery.

Upon landing in the base, Fearless was already walking down the platform with an away bag.

Rodimus looking at the bag. Rodimus: “What’s with the bag?” Fearless: “I’m staying at a friends place for the time being.” Several bots look at Fearless in surprise. Tailgate: “Does that mean you won’t be coming back to the ship?” Fearless: “It’s not like I’m never getting back on the ship Tailgate. My friend just offered to let me stay for the few days we’re going to be here, nothing more.” Chromedome: “Who’s your friend?” Fearless: “Just a friend.” Rewind: “That still didn’t answer the question.” Megatron: “But you will be on base at the end of the day?” Fearless: “Megs my friend has nothing to do with my job.” Megatron: “You still didn’t answer the question.” Fearless: “I’m not staying on base Megatron. I’ll still be coming back for work, but—” BEEP! BEEP! A smile appears on Fearless’s face as they race to the sound. Fearless: “Bye guys! Be good! And tell Whirl to stay away from the electrical lines!”

The bots just watched their little human run to the direction of the car honk.

Out of pure curiosity, some tried to go see who was picking them up.

Put the hangar door had closed before they had the chance to see.

The next few days ended up in a pattern of sorts.

Fearless would come in for the morning, stay for the meetings, make sure the bots were doing okay before spending the rest of the day out.

Many bots tried justifying their behavior.

They had been gone from Earth for a while and just wanted to get in as much of their planet before they had to leave it.

It seemed to do well with most of the bots…

And then there were the outliers of that group.

Fearless was in a coffee shop waiting for their crush to return with the orders. They looked around and for a split second thought they saw a familiar-looking orange vest. Brushing it off as soon as their crush sat down in front of them. ‘Crush’: “Here you go.” The crush gives them their cup. Their fingers brush. Their crush looks behind them a bit confused. Fearless: “What it is?” ‘Crush’: “There’s this lady doing some Victorian era cosplay near the napkins. Fearless stops mid sip. ‘Crush’: “And she also has a little kid with a fake mustache.” The crush laughs a bit. ‘Crush’: “I should go ask what convention they are heading to.” Fearless quickly grabs his hand before he starts to get up. They quickly scan the room. Sure enough, the lady in purple and the baby with the fake mustache where by the napkins. A table away was another familiar pair. Two blonde men with grandma hats. One of them with a large camera and the other had a familiar looking tie. Fearless grabs their crush’s hand and their drink and starts heading out the door. ‘Crush’: “Hey you, okay?” Fearless suddenly makes eye contact with a woman with purple top and Autobot insignia on her belt. Fearless slightly sweating: “Peachy. Let’s just go!”

Fearless was now hyperaware of their friends holoforms around.

And actively following them!

They swore they even saw Magnus’s holoform in an alley.

They were not ready to have their crush meet them yet!

What if they ran away?

What if—wait they weren’t even dating yet! Why were they so worried?

Fearless knew exactly why.

It was hard enough to find someone outside work to hang out with.

Much less someone who made them feel good.

They were not going to risk it, at least not yet anyways.

Thankfully their crush didn’t seem to be bothered about suddenly moving from place to place without a clear direction.

Eventually Fearless managed to lose the group near a park.

They sighed in relief before noticing that they were still holding their crush’s hand.

Fearless quickly let go spouting out apologies, but quickly stopped when he grabbed their hand and carefully laced his fingers in their hand.

He gave them a sheepish smile and quietly stated he liked their hand in his.

Fearless swore they melted a bit inside.

Fearless’s crush pointed to a swing set. ‘Crush’: “You want me to push you?” Fearless smirking playfully. Fearless: “As long as I return the favor.” Their crush gently pushes their shoulder. The pair reaches the swings when they notice a girl sitting on them. A girl with teal hair… in pigtails… and was that an eye patch? Fearless starts sweating more when the ‘girl’ turned to their direction… and started walking to them! Whirl: “Hey Fearless, missed you today at the meeting.” ‘Crush’: “Uh, you know her?” Fearless: “I… babysat her a couple times. A chaotic little fiend, aren’t you?” Whirl just puffs her chest a bit. Whirl: “Only doing my best.” Fearless: “Hey do you mind waiting a second? I need to remind this young lady that her new babysitters are looking for her now.” Whirl: “No they—OW! Fearless!” Fearless grabbed Whirl by the ear and walked a few feet away before whispering harshly. Fearless: “Whirl?! Are you kidding me?! What are you and nearly half the ship doing here?! I think I saw Magnus in an alley way!” Whirl: “Sightseeing… Magnus took a wrong turn.” Fearless: “You gave him those direction, didn’t you?” Whirl: “Maybe…” Fearless: “Back on topic, why, oh so conveniently, are you all ‘sightseeing’ in places specifically I go to? I don’t think that a coincidence.” Whirl: “You’re a smart Fleshy you figure it out.” Fearless: “Primus, Megs is going to have a field day when he hears about this.” Whirl just gives them a cheeky look. Fearless pauses and looks at Whirl mischievous smile more closely. Fearless: “Whirl… where’s Megs?” Whirl: “As much as I’d love to tell all about our plan—” Fearless: “Whirl…” Whirl: “I might be worried about your little boyfriend over there.” Fearless: “He is not my—wait what?”

Whirl just points behind them.

Fearless feels all the blood from their face drain.

Their crush was talking to MEGATRON!

Fearless never sprinted so fast in their entire life.

They were red in the face, they didn’t know if it was from anger, embarrassment or from being flustered.

When they got back to the ship, they were going to be EVERYONE’S problem.

Their crush waves at them. ‘Crush’: “I didn’t know your dad was cool.” Fearless: “I’m so sor—did you say cool?” ‘Crush’: “Yeah, we were talking about human poetry and what writing styles we liked.” Fearless gives Megatron a look. Fearless: “Was that all… Dad?” Megatron: “Besides an introduction to your male companion.” Fearless looks at their crush who just smiles and nods in agreement. They look down at their phone and notice the time. Fearless: “Well, we got to go now. Gotta get dad his pills on time.” Megatron: “I don’t—” Fearless giving him a side glare. Megatron sighs and begins to walk away. Fearless: “…Was that really all you talked about? There was no threatening or anything?” ‘Crush’: “Nope, nothing weird.” Fearless looks down a bit. Fearless: “Sorry that our last day was all…this.” Their crush gently takes their hands in his. Fearless is fighting a blush best they can. ‘Crush’: “We can’t plan everything right? I’m just glad I got to spend it with you.” They get pulled into a tight hug. It lasts a minute before they both let go. ‘Crush’: “Give space a taste of Earth Fearless!” Fearless waves back and starts jogging to catch up with Megatron. They don’t see their crush’s image sigh, flicker and disappear.

Fearless on the inside with their crush.

[pygmi-cygni]

Lucky Number Seven (2)

goin' strong, y'all. woohoo.

cw: arguing, flashbacks, Angst

pt one here

He was fine. Somebody dragged him to a tent and gave him some water. You, however, were thrown into a room with a scowling officer who had some choice words.

Harassing a senior officer....stepping out of line...acting like a fucking child...your skin crawled with the urge to deck him too.

After your reaming was complete, you stomped back to the main area for a debrief.

And found this.

Rage burned your toes numb. You felt so overwhelmed with adrenaline, your physical body started to melt at the edges. If this was what exploding felt like, you were a supernova.

Poe's mouth was moving a mile a minute but you were having none of it. Famously verbose but equally as arrogant, Black Leader plowed through a hack-job retelling of your arrival. He wanted you gone within the day, he demanded, to the stoic chagrin of the answering Sergeant.

There were three other pilots in the tent, exchanging embarrassed glances. You'd felt shame, initially, before realizing what was happening.

"Sergeant, if I may," you seethed, cutting off another bout of complaints. Dameron's gaze lasered into your temple.

The flickering holograph raised his eyebrow.

"Whatever Dameron is upset about," your words sliced like blades through the smog, "is not in any way relevant to the current mission. We have a personal history and this issue does not extend beyond those limits. None of this impacts my work-"

"I don't know what this officer is referencing-" Dameron barged in, cutting off the snickering behind you.

"Enough."

Leia's face replaced the Sergeant's, looking steely-eyed and determined. The tent fell silent, everyone's faces drawn and hesitant. You swallowed down the tail end of your outburst, patting away the flames. Anger still smoldered, but you could keep it tucked away.

"I don't care how you feel, Poe," she said, with the sternness of a mother, "nor you, cadet," her gaze flickered to you. "I have assigned everyone in this program for a reason, and unless you are calling my judgement into question, I want to hear nothing about it."

Nobody dared speak. Nodding primly, she murmured a farewell and the tent was thrown into cavernous silence.

The tension was palpable. The sludgy ground had glued you in place, iron rods replacing your bones. Dameron burst out of the meeting as soon as it was adjourned, leaving you to fend off stares alone.

Personal history was a bit of a stretch, and perhaps conveyed a sultriness that was far from the truth. Tumultuous history might be a better term, one that conveyed the friction rife between you. It was a thorn you'd nursed for years, and one that never seemed to leave.

It never ceased to confuse your crew. Everybody liked Dameron. Truly, you saw the appeal - looks, charm, easy smile. And he was by definition, a good guy. But everybody had somebody to poke at, and for him it just happened to be you.

well, that wasn't the whole problem.

You tried to fade into the background of the gathering crowd. Any hopes of anonymity were shot dead in those few minutes online. The quizzical stares burned familiar scars in your back, until you collided with a bony face.

"Oh shi- you okay?" You righted Tonks, seconds from biting it. They chuckled, shoving you off.

"Yeah, yeah. What's up with Dameron? You guys seemed-"

Speak of the devil, he'd climbed atop a stack of crates, tablet and holopad in hand.

The debrief had begun.

The mission was 'simple:' have a few posing smugglers get a lay of the land whilst the home base soldiers mapped out the Imp hangar hidden a few clicks away. Once all the intel had been gathered, you'd reevaluate the plan and move in. No prisoners, no hostages.

Thirteen groups total (a number that made your stomach twist) and every group had a 'sister' group they were to be in contact with all the time.

"This is to ensure safety and support," Dameron explained, "no group gets left behind."

Ha fucking ha. You tried not to let your gaze burn his hair off.

Groups 1-4 were going to be the smugglers, a total of eleven people. 5-11 were tactical, and the last two were strictly intelligence and communication. You let out a sigh of relief when Tonks raised their hand for twelve. That was probably for the best.

Dameron's cold gaze flickered over you for a moment as he listed off your group - seven, how funny - and you were dismissed to brief with your groups.

Seven...tactical?

"Wait a minute, I'm intelligence division," you called out, "I'm not supposed to be tactically assigned-"

"Do you have your field training?" One of the superior offices looked you up and down.

"Yes, but-"

"Then you're qualified for tactical. Alright, quickly, let's get this done!"

Confused, you were swept into a tactical suit, headset, and gear pack and bunched with eight other people you'd never met in your life.

A harsh, muggy rain had begun to fall. Several tents were sinking into the mud and more than a few people were having difficulty digging their boots out of the slop. You held a booklet over your brow to stop any mudfall into your eyes.

"So," the head? Superior? Leader? of your group shouted over the din of thunder, "We're gonna chart the geography around the hangar, and then find the best entrances and exits. Once the undercover operatives we have get back, we'll send them off with a coupla you's to go and lay the explosives. Got it?"

A chorus of agreement, which you begrudgingly followed along with. Something distinctly sour was clouding the back of your mouth. One of your strengths was cartography and surveillance, but Dameron or whoever was running this shitshow had specifically pulled you out of the surveillance group and into...whatever this was.

Six hours until the first checkpoint. Teams 2 and 3 would be comming in with an update, and you needed to be at your post by then.

Perfect. Just enough time to beat Dameron's ass.

He was eating soup out of a tureen when you threw open the door to his tent. You didn't miss the tightening of his jaw when he turned to stare at you, eyebrow raised.

"Why the hell am I on tactical?" You hissed, ripping off your headset, "you know that I'm the best fucking spy on this crew, and I'm stuck on tactical?" The set made a satisfying thunk against the holoprojector as it toppled into the mud.

Poe leaned back, folding his arms. "Leia-"

"No. No, no, no, this was not Leia, this was you, Black Leader. You fucking put me there."

The muscles in his jaw were working overtime. Your steely gazes met in a clash rivaling Jedi battles. If he dares, I'll kill him. He'd better not even try.

"Well," he began slowly. "You can't deny the last time. How it...went."

He did.

The fucker.

"What?" You exploded, hauling him up by his collar, "What, what did I do? How did "the last one" go? Huh? Were you there? That one mission three fucking years ago that had a screwy plan and yeah, okay, something went wrong,and we lost some people, I'm sorry, but you weren't there, you don't get to tell me how it went!"

Your shouting had attracted a crowd outside. Poe winced when you pressed on his sore cheek, eyes aflame.

"Cadet," the word stung your heart, "why don't we continue this conversation later, okay? I've got a crew to run," he whispered, teeth glittering in the dingy light.

For the second time that day, you watched the retreating form of your Commander with a sense of defeat souring in your belly.

T-minus five hours.

That smell, what was it? Expensive, yes, but astringent. Burning roses, sickly sweet and singed with ash. It grew stronger every minute, as did the red glow under the door. Your hands were sticky with a thick crimson paste. Blood. It had been blood, which had been a body, who had been-

no. not them anymore. just sticky.

Hot. Your shirt was soaked to your skin with sweat. An orange light blinked on your radio. SOS. Help.

No response.

You watched the door shimmer and wriggle in the rising heat. Fire. And screaming. Who was screaming? Tell them to cut it out, it’s too l-

The shutter flicked, and you jolted awake. A deep, cavernous feeling of terror flitted through you so intensely your teeth rattled. Once the essence of paranoia faded, you huddled deeper in your jacket. It had been a while since your mind had slipped back into memory. You didn’t miss it.

The blinking holopad said three hours had passed. On autopilot, you packed your things, hands robotically cataloguing everything in its place. The safest thing to do right now was shut your brain off and let instinct do the talking. Wallowing would do no good in the field.

Your tent shuddered with the movement of somebody crossing the threshold. You were dimly aware of this but paid it no mind, focusing only on the rough fabric under your palms.

“Hey.”

Barbs littered your skin, raised and ready for battle. Steeling yourself, you turned to face him.

Poe, to his credit, stood a respectful distance away and met your gaze with patient neutrality. He took in your defensive scowl and the tension in your shoulders and held up a hand.

"I kinda screwed that up earlier," he said, with a strangely forced tone. "My apologies. I understand the last situation was complicated. But I can only access what's in the mission report, so-"

"So you just skipped the parts that didn't fit your narrative? Fuck off, I've got a crew to run." You shoved past him and rejoined your new squad. Poe yelled something after you, but you ignored it.

Thankfully the other members caught the drift, and you were on your way without a single glance back.

The moment your boots left the ring of lights surrounding the base, swampy smog enveloped you like a fist. It was hard to see in front of you, and you appreciated whose idea it was to clip fluorescent bulbs onto the back of your helmets.

In total there were eight of you, but the only names that stuck were the cartographer - Hana - and the weapons expert - Duke. There was a mute comms officer, which would have made for a great stand-up skit, but his searing gaze prompted no joking. You made your silent acknowledgements of each other and moved on.

As you hiked, a thrilling shiver ran down your back. It felt like a layer of bacta, soothing away the sore spots of your heart and returning a fire to your veins. Any distractions of the day melted away and left your mind startlingly clear. This was where you were supposed to be. You'd been folded for too long, crammed in the protective womb of drills and safety checks. You longed to stretch your fighting legs and run.

There was a reason you were the best on the team. Nothing Dameron said could change that.

The dark undergrowth of the swampy jungle slowly calibrated to your eyes. Snapping twigs sounded like gunshots and your hair prickled with caution. A certain air of insignificance swept over the group as you waded through marshes deep enough to swallow you whole. You kept that feeling close to your chest. Best to be aware of your weakness than to let it blind you. A common mistake, assuming you were the top of the food chain.

Though you’d never stepped foot on the planet before, the terrain seemed almost familiar. Nal Hutta’s geography wasn’t complicated. Hilly but nothing unclimbable, and the same marshy consistency across the surface. It was easy to get lost with nothing memorable to mark.

Hana quietly recited the map as you went, annotating any notable regions. It was a quick journey, relatively speaking, and you soon found the cleared-out trench designated for the first stop. As instructed, a few soldiers dug up the cargo hidden in the brush. The canvas bags contained kilos of explosives, which Duke took gingerly from their hiding place.

A shiver ran through you at the sight.

Fire, hot and stinging. Red cloth burning, the smell of roses-

You blinked rapidly and took a swig of water. Not now.

The comms officer spoke quickly and quietly into the accompanying receiver, jotting down whatever Poe was communicating on the other line. You felt strangely affronted, irritated that you couldn’t listen in. It was a strange sense of paranoia that made your throat close up. You forced yourself to step away, peering into the shady woods.

A cough behind you grabbed your attention. The comms officer looked up, receiver in his hand. It took you a moment to realize he was handing it to you. Dread settling, you took the device and held it to your ear.

“Yes?”

“New plan,” came Poe’s voice from the other end. He sounded strained, and you realized the change wasn’t going to be good. “I need you to go in.”

“What?”

A crackly sigh. “I need you to go in and get the access key by yourself. The security is tighter than we expected and a crew this size will be suspicious. You’re….the one with enough experience.” A resigned edge laced his tone. This wasn’t an easy admission.

You’d be glib at the compliment, but in truth the idea filled you with terror.

You hadn’t done it since. This was the first time you’d gone alone, and the thought of last time made you nauseous.

“Still with me?”

“Yes,” you said hoarsely, clearing the tension from your throat. “Yes, yeah, I’m…I’m here. That’s fine, but…”

“But?”

“Nothing. I’ll proceed.” You wanted to cry.

“Copy. And, cadet?”

You wiped your eyes, hiding from the rest of the group. “Mhm?”

“We’ll be in your ear the whole time.”

Your fist clenched around the comm long after he disconnected, knuckles paling.

Burning roses, singed cloth, screaming-

auck I hate the exposition chapters.

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