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Momentarily stopping, you kept your journal close to your chest, hiding its content from his view. He whined, finally deciding to leave you be, choosing instead to go slump on the opposite couch, while making it known just how unfair and mean you were for refusing to get him out of his lethal boredom.

Your morning training flight had ended thirty minutes ago, and Maverick had needed to attend some last minute meeting with Cyclone, leaving you in the briefing room, waiting for his remarks on each of your flying. Everyone had found a way to occupy themselves, except Mickey, who kept bothering everyone, trying to find something that he’d deem amusing enough to focus all his attention on.

He’d already gone to Natasha who had quickly sent him packing, choosing this rare free time to catch up on some paperwork the base’s administrators had been begging her to send for three months.

Bob had been kind enough to propose to share his book with him, but he refused, claiming it was too boring. And you suspected that he had actually found something to do, and that that thing was simply to annoy all of you, who were calmly waiting for the return of your instructor.

His next victim had been you.

You should have guessed it, truly. Peacefully sitting on the couch, tracing lines in your drawing notebook, eyes flicking discreetly every so often to the pool table, where Reuben, Javy and Jake were engaging in a pretty wild game of table football.

“Can I just look at one page, please ?” Mickey tried again, putting on the best puppy dog eyes he could conjure.

“No.”

No one had ever even glanced at your drawing notebook. Even though you’d always carry it around, whipping it out if you had a rare moment of rest during your busy life on base, everyone had learned to respect that boundary, no matter how futile it seemed to some.

“Leave her, Fanboy. She just doesn’t want you to see the naked men she draws in there,” Jake snickered from his spot at the table football.

You simply flipped him off, not even rewarding him with a stare.

Despite your notebook being so firmly guarded, everyone knew you drew beautifully. If they were honest, beautifully wasn’t even cutting it.

While your notebook was strictly off limit, you’d let them see when you’d lazily and mindlessly let your pencil graze the paper of a torn up blank page. They never ceased to be amazed at your ‘talent’, and they’d always let you know whenever they had the chance. Which, it’s not that you hated it, but the word ‘talent’ rubbed you the wrong way. This was no talent, it was years of hard work and practice, none of this had come your way the first time you had grabbed a pencil, and yet, the squad always made you out to be some kind of prodigee.

Everyone knew you drew portraits the best.

The first time it truly hit them was during one particularly boring meeting where Cyclone was just up everyone’s asses and complaining about how none of you ever bothered to do the administration work you were required to do. His scolding wasn’t new, you’d at least get one of these meeting every month, so it wasn’t something you all took too seriously. After a few minutes of sketching you passed off as pretending to take notes, you elbowed Natasha, snickering a bit as you showed her the piece of paper on which you had made Cyclone’s angry face come to life.

But the chuckling you had expected never came. In its place, Natasha’s eyes were wide open, in complete awe of the pencil sketch you had presented her. She quickly, and the more discreetly she could, passed it around the table for everyone to see, pointing to you in pride when the other members of the squad would look, equally as amazed as she was.

Ever since that day, Mickey had begged you to draw a portrait of him. You had always refused, not exactly knowing why, maybe simply for the pleasure of seeing him pout at your constant refusal.

He had been greatly offended when one night you had casually handed Penny a sketch of her you had quicky drawn at the Hard Deck.

“She gives me free drinks,” you had justified, a small smirk pulling at your lips.

“I have your life in my hands every-time we’re in the air, is that not enough for you ?”

One year, for his birthday, you had finally decided to grant him the one thing he kept begging you for. Mickey had literally screamed, yes screamed in sheer excitement when you had handed him the portrait you had drawn of him. It now stood proudly on his bedside table, adorned by a beautiful frame.

You drew beautifully, there was simply no other way to put in.

“Please, Lightning, I’ll do your paperwork for a month if you let me see,” Mickey had resorted to bargaining.

“No.” You said again, firmly camping on your position as the movement of your pencil grazing the page could faintly be heard.

“Good morning aviators.” A booming voice made every single one of you jump out.

And then immediately salute when you realized it was your commanding officer. Mickey nearly toppled over from how fast he stood up.

“Captain Mitchell has some other matter to attend to. I reviewed all of your flight footage so I’ll be the one debriefing you today.”

You swore you audibly heard Reuben swallow next to you.

Your commanding officer wolfishly grinned, a terrifying indicator that this debrief wasn’t really about to go as smoothly as when Maverick was directing it.

“Let’s move to briefing room three, shall we ?” He smiled, seemingly impatient to share his mind about the way you all flew.

Reluctantly, you all followed with a dutifully soldier step, though not without dread.

“You’re gonna get chewed up, man.” Javy whispered to Jake, snickering.

And he did. After absolutely destroying him, Maverick would have at least, discreetly, praised the risky maneuver he had pulled off.

But commanding officer Whitman was nothing like Maverick. After words that were anything but kind about his flying style, he was sent back to the main briefing room, like a child sentenced to think about his behavior.

Jake guessed he had maybe grown too accustomed to Maverick being somehow of an older and just as reckless version of him that he had forgotten that most of the moves he pulled could get anyone not only written up, but grounded, for good.

Jake sat down with a sight, the feeling of having been scolded like a child, something that hadn’t happened since the Naval Academy, sitting heavily on his chest. He groaned when he felt that he had carelessly sat down on something, the futile action only serving to upset him more after what he had endured a few doors down.

But all irritation suddenly vanished when he lifted himself to glare at the object daring to pester his sulking.

He froze.

Lying there, rarely unsupervised, was your drawing notebook, Sitting neatly where you must have dropped it when Commander Whitman had walked in.

The light green cover was a little worn out from you carrying it every where you went. He gently picked it up, took it out from under him so he could sit down again. His fingers hesitantly toyed with one corner, debating on opening it.

Why were you so adamant about no one looking through it anyway ?

While he mainly joked about it, Jake was convinced you were actually drawing naked people in there. What other reason would there be for your constant refusal ? You were talented as hell, wouldn’t you want to share that with everyone ?

Jake spent more time than he’d like to admit just watching you, nose buried in that stupid notebook, sketching away God knows what. The little furrow in your brow when you seemed to draw something just a tiny bit difficult, though he knew without seeing it that it’d look effortless no matter how much of a struggle you seemed to display.

His stare was fixed on the notebook in his hands. There would be no way for you to know he had gone through it if he put it back in the same spot, right ? He would just have a quick, harmless look. Besides, it wasn’t like he would be reading through your diary, it wasn’t anything too imitate.

And besides, he figured that if you did find out, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. You’d scream at him, sure, but again, it wouldn’t be different from any other day, no matter how hard he wished it wasn’t the case.

Still, he found himself still hesitating. Even if you never found out, it was basic respect to honor a boundary you had made abundantly clear throughout the years. But just as he was about to, though not reluctantly, put the precious notebook back down, curiosity with a mix of self deprecation, knowing that at least now you’d have a real reason for disliking him, made him open it.

And—

Well.

To say that it was underwhelming would be a tremendous understatement.

The first page greeted him with the beautiful sight of a Lily. Though, perfectly drawn, it seemed to be taunting him. Was this really what he had defied your prohibition for ?

Why would you even hide this ? Oh, what, did you think the flower was out of proportion ? Embarassed because you hadn’t drawn the petals as accurately as Mother Nature had carefully crafted them ? He had a little chuckle to himself, yeah, that was probably why. You thought your work was shit even thought it looked straight out like a Lily seed had been planted in your pages and you had dutifully took care of it to grow it into the beautiful flower staring back at him right now.

Pages after pages, he was met with objects from your daily life, drinks from the Hard Deck, a sunset at the beach, flowers that grew behind the base... One particular drawing of your F/A-18 that looked like one of the engineer on base had themselves drawn it had him staring a bit longer. And he found himself wondering just how many hours you had put into this, into all of this. How many years did it take for you to master life around you so effortlessly ?

He continued to turn the pages, snatched away by the beauty of your work. Jake was almost halfway through it when he suddenly froze.

A mirror was his first thought.

It felt like looking in a mirror.

His own face was staring back at him on the page, the only difference was the serious air he was harboring on the drawing, a huge contrast to his jaw hanging open at the sight of it.

He didn’t even have that fleeting second of astonishment, of doubt, of ‘oh my god is that me ?’. Because there was no place for doubt. It was, undeniably, him.

After the moment of shock had passed, his heart began to pound in his chest to the point it was almost painful. His eyes flicked to the page right next to it, him again. A small smile stretching his lips and a toothpick in between his teeth.

Jake stayed in what felt like a long time just staring at the perfect pencil drawing of his face. The knowledge that you had been the one to delicately trace every line of his face was spreading a warmth all throughout his body. He felt a flush bloom from his neck all the way to his ears and he laughed slightly, embarrassed by his own reaction.

Jesus, these were only drawings, he tried to reason himself. You drew people often, hell you had even drawn Commander Whitman in various state of fury a dozen of times, though his pounding heart didn’t seem to agree.

Willing himself to move on, he turned the page—

His breath got caught in his lungs.

The next page showed three little sketches of him, all different emotions that somehow covered a good part of the wild range of his personality.

On one he was harboring his usual cocky expression, smirk stretching his lips wide, eyebrows slightly raised in a defying air, and there even was a teasing and arrogant twinkle in his eye that made the drawing seem all the more alive.

The one right next to it showed his profile, head looking down at what he guessed was a pre flight checking list. Expression closed, focused, like every pilot ought to be while checking the plane that would bring them up to fifty thousand feet in the air.

The last of the three little sketches showed his upper half, a cue stick in hand, a genuine smile, staring off into the distance, where normally the Hard Deck pool table would be. But there was no scenery, only him. Happiness and relaxation evident in the way he held himself.

His heart wasn’t exactly beating the way it should, a weird mix of a flutter and a stutter that made his whole chest feel tight.

Jake felt seen.

And seen by your eyes, you, was the greatest honor he could think of.

His eyes widen when he saw the next page. Taking up almost the entire paper, he was drawn down to his midthighs. Swimsuit sitting low on his hips, Adonis belt on full view, abs carefully defined, puffed up chest, a grin illuminating his face and sunglasses to hide his precious green eyes from the sun.

Jesus fucking Christ, you had even gotten the mole on the left side of his hips. His flush only worsened, made him feel like his whole body was on fire. The harsh fabric of his flight suit suddenly feeling like too much on his feverish, sensitive skin.

Jake exhaled shakily. It felt overwhelming, and overwhelming wasn’t even cutting it.

His hands acted on their own as he continued to turn the pages. Each filled with images of him. Because to him, they were images. Not drawings. Images you had wanted to capture, keep a piece of. Stolen moments you had wanted to keep ingrained on paper, had wanted to keep him.

Almost half of your notebook was of him. He got to the last page you had drawn on.

A close up on his face from his neck. The brightest smile illuminating his features, the kind that allowed the creases near his eyes to make an appearance. A glint in his gaze that made him look warm, loving, almost tender like.

Writings at the bottom of the page caught his attention. The date was marked, like all the other drawings, he realized.

He frowned reading it.

The date on that last drawing was marked from the day before… which was a Sunday.

….You hadn’t seen each other on Sunday.

Something short circuited in his brain and in his heart.

Did that mean you were able to draw him by memory alone ? That you had every crease, every hair, every mole, freckle, every line of his face so deeply ingrained in your brain that you were able to render them that faithfully without even looking at him ?

It felt dizzying.

Eyes still transfixed on the drawing, steps coming from the hallway got him out of his trance and without thinking, he shoved the notebook into his flight suit.

“How did it go ?” He tried for casual as the rest of you walked in.

“Listen man, he even gave me shit,” Mickey complained, seeming still offended by what had happened, “I don’t even fly the goddamn plane !”

By the look on all of your faces, Whitman didn’t have anything nice to say to any of you.

Jake felt his heart stutter when his gaze shifted towards you, who were engrossed in a conversation with Natasha, most likely bitching about the debrief. It felt weird, to see you like that, knowing how you carefully sketched him every change you got.

You caught his gaze and frowned.

“What are you looking at, Hangman ?”

He smiled, and he wasn’t exactly sure if it turned out like a smirk or a genuine one.

“Nothing, darlin’.”

You rolled your eyes and Jake could decipher the smallest quirk of your lips, the lightest blush on your cheeks and wondered if it had always been there but just been too blind to see it.

You didn’t say anything about your notebook, didn’t seem to notice it was missing, too distracted by the morning’s event.

That night, Jake went home with the notebook. He didn’t quite have the heart to let go of it yet. Lying wide awake in his bed, with what had become a precious artifact, open, he kept staring at that very last page. Carefully, he’d trace the lines out with his fingers, in adoration of the way you saw him. Touch over every brush of the pencil you had evidently, carefully thought about.

He struggled to find sleep, whenever he would finally turn off the light, it would only take minutes before he’d turn it on again, grab the notebook and flip through it. He felt like his insides were melting every time his eyes raked through the pages.

Knowing he had been your secret muse all this time was setting a new desire alight in his chest, burning as fiery hot as a SuperHornet engine. Jake wanted, almost foolishly, to pose for you. Look into your eyes as you’d trace every single line of his face, body and soul, knowing you wouldn’t even have to stare at him to get him perfectly, down to every detail.

When he finally managed to fall asleep, you visited his every dream, and being haunted had never sounded so delightful.

“Where the fuck is it,” you grumbled under your breath, frantically moving the couch cushions around.

It was only when you were already at home that you noticed the very unusual absence of your drawing notebook. The realisation that you had forgotten it on base was scary. But the realisation you had in this instant, as you had come earlier than usual to look for it, that perhaps you hadn’t simply forgotten but downright lost it, was terrifying. You trusted your squadmates enough to believe that they would respect your boundary even without yourself present to firmly remind them of it, but what if any other people found it ?

God, you’d actually have to transfer base.

“You looking for something ?”

You jumped and grabbed at your chest where your heart had a similar reaction as you turned around.

“Jesus Christ, Seresin ! Don’t sneak up on me like that !”

“If I really wanted to sneak up on you, sweetheart, I can assure you I wouldn’t have announced myself quite this loud.”

Your eyes rolled automatically, a reflex you had taught yourself a long time ago whenever Jake spoke.

“Yeah, right, thank you, you can leave n—“

You stopped dead in your tracks. Eyes fixed on Jake’s right hand and what it was holding.

Jake saw you freeze and suddenly he lost the cocky edge. He cleared his throat.

“I think you forgot this yesterday.” He now held the notebook in both hands in front him, but not quite holding it out for you yet.

You didn’t dare to meet his eyes, because you knew, without even him saying anything, you knew. He had gone through it. Mortification couldn’t even begin to describe the feelings going through you as you stayed there, just staring at your notebook in his hands. Somehow, despite this situation being your worst nightmare, in the back of your mind something told you that in between Jake’s hands, the notebook felt at its right place. The muse holding close to him every piece of art he had inspired.

You knew. And Jake obviously knew you knew.

“You’re very talented.” He finally said, trying to break the silence.

“It’s not talent it’s—“

“Hard work,” he finished with a small, endeared, smile. “I know. And it shows, how hard you work I mean. It’s beautiful.”

You gulped. “What is ?”

“All of it.”

A pitt was forming in your stomach. You hated how he was dancing around it, hated how careful he was around the subject and a small part of you wished he could have just laughed at you, made some cocky remark, at least that way you’d have gotten some reaction out of him. You didn’t truly understand his behavior, did he think he was showing you mercy after going through the most intimate item in your life, one that was practically a pathway into your mind and heart ?

You cleared your throat, knowing you’d have to be the one to address the obvious elephant in the room.

“Are you not gonna ask why I draw you over and over again like a maniac ?” You asked, trying to sound jaded and uninterested despite the beating of your heart.

The smile that stretched his lips was soft.

“I don’t need to.”

Something in you bloomed at the way he looked at you.

Jake finally handed you the notebook, which you took with shaky hands that you struggled to hide.

You both stood in silence for a few seconds that felt like an eternity. Dancing on your feet, you chewed the inside of your cheek. What the fuck were you supposed to say ? This felt like too big of a conversation to have at six in the morning just before the morning flight.

“You—“ you immediately cringed at the way your voice was strained and cleared your throat, “do you wanna take one ?” You offered, eyes looking everywhere but directly at his eyes.

His eyes seemed to widen in barely hidden shock before he schooled himself.

“Of course I do, you know I’d never missed an opportunity to have my own face hanging around my place.”

You chuckled, feeling at ease by the way he lifted off a bit of the emotional tension. You handed him the notebook back, him holding it didn’t look as terrifying now.

“Here, choose and just rip it out.”

You’d thought he’d take some time to think about it, ponder about his decision, but no. Jake opened your notebook with a speed and ease that suggested he knew exactly what he was looking for, and he did, landing at the last page. Jake showed it to you.

“Can I ?”

You nodded, temporally surprised by his overly respectful behavior. He laid the notebook down on the nearby table and began to carefully rip the page.

When he finished, he handed it back to you, keeping the page he had ripped for him.

“Thank you.”

Silence filled the room again. And when you finally dared to lift your gaze and look in his eyes, it almost took your breath away. How gently, how patiently he was looking at you, a small, almost encouraging smile on his lips. You realized that he was waiting for you to talk, allowing you to take that next step and you guessed it was only natural. You were the one drawing his face everywhere in your notebook like a psychopath. He didn’t need to ask, he had said. Didn’t mean that in his heart he wasn’t dying for you to say it out loud.

You took in a big breath, and took a step towards him. A small physical reconciliation that you hoped you’d be able to morph into an emotional one.

“Listen, Seresin, I—“

The sudden boom of the door bursting open made both of you jerk back from each other.

“Damn,” Mickey whistled, “you’re here early.”

The rest of the squad followed close behind him, and most of them were barely able to hide the small, knowing smile pulling at their lips. Mickey seemed to be the only one confused.

“Hey, did we interrupt somethi—“

Bob elbowed him before he could finish his sentence, and he only shot his friend a death glare when he loudly exclaimed his pain and whined about ‘what was that for ?!’.

You hurriedly scurried back to your usual spot on the couch, feeling caught red handed even though you had only been standing in front of one another. Jake, much more relaxed than you, settled down next to Javy on the other couch, across the room and facing you.

You feigned a normal behavior by opening your notebook, about to pretend to draw like your world hadn’t shifted on its axis just a few seconds before.

Right as you opened it, something fell right from between the pages and into your lap. Frowning, you picked it up. It was a folded piece of paper, you carefully opened it and felt your heart stutter in your chest.

On the paper were drawn two very simple stick figures. Though, simple, they were very recognizable. It was you and Jake. The fucker had drawn himself with an eight pack and it tear a quiet laugh from you.

The two stick figures were holding hands and their mouth lines were quirked up in happy smiles. Objectively, it looked bad, primary children level. But it was his. He had drawn that while thinking of you.

Warmth bloomed throughout your body and you looked up, searching Jake’s gaze. You didn’t have to search long because he was already looking at you, awaiting your reaction. Truth be told, you don’t exactly know what you did, perhaps you bit your lip, shyly smiled, or even simply stared at him in astonishment, whatever you did, it seemed to please him.

Jake smiled. And he suddenly looked exactly as you had drawn him on that page that now had found a new place in the front pocket of his flight suit. A sight that would have blinded you had you not learned to love its brightness.

And without thinking, almost on instinct, you picked up your pencil.

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Author’s note : omg it felt like such a long time since I’ve written for my babyyyy !! Just some little fluff, hope you like it !💞💞

Also is this projection about me wanting to be any good at any sort of art ? Yes it might. And the title sucks because I couldn’t, for the life of me, find something else.

Alsoooo, I feel like lately my fics have been having very little dialogue and a lot of internal thoughts about feelings and stuff ? Is that annoying to read ? Please be honest guys

The second time, he brings it up sideways.

"You get good ones today?" he asks, later, cleaning his rifle with the kind of focus that means he isn't actually thinking about his rifle.

"Some."

"Of the Captain?"

"Some of those too."

He glances at you like he's doing math. You go back to your film log and don't help him with it.

By the fourth time it stops being subtle, mostly because he starts finding excuses to be near you when you've got the camera out.

He’s leaning over your shoulder under the guise of checking the light, angling himself into whatever frame you're setting up until you have to physically nudge him with your elbow to get him out of it. Which defeats the entire purpose, since half your rolls now have Bucky cropped at the edge of every photo like a stray thumb.

"You're in my shot," you tell him, not for the first time.

"I'm helpin'."

"You're not."

He grins like that's the correct answer.

It's Dum Dum who says it out loud, which is somehow worse than if Bucky had figured it out himself. They're passing your contact sheets around the fire one night, the ones you'd printed back at base and never quite gotten around to filing.

Dum Dum holds one up — Bucky mid-laugh, head tipped back, off to the side of a frame that's supposedly about morale on the front lines — and says, "Sarge, they've got a whole gallery of just you," and cackles like it's the funniest thing that's happened all war.

You don't deny it. There's no version of denying it that doesn't sound worse than the truth.

Bucky goes very still in a particular way.

It’s like his whole body just hit a wall it didn't see coming, and then he laughs it off too loud and changes the subject to something about the rations. You let him, because you can see the exact moment it lands behind his eyes. Plus, you're not cruel enough to make him sit in it in front of everyone.

He waits until the fire's burned down and the rest of the squad's peeled off to sleep or pretend to.

It's just you and him and Dernier's terrible homemade liquor. It’s the same recipe that smells like it could strip paint — Bucky's been sipping like it's punishing him for something.

"So," he says at first simply.

He's got the tin cup turned in his hands, not drinking, just turning it. For a man who talks for a living he's suddenly having real trouble finding the next word.

You wait. You're good at waiting — it's half the job, sitting behind the lens until the actual moment arrives instead of the one you expected.

"The pictures," he tries again, and stops.

You watch something in him short out completely — the cocky tilt of his shoulders trying to hold and failing, colour climbing up his neck in a way no amount of nonchalance is going to cover.

He opens his mouth like he's got a whole speech loaded and what comes out instead is: "Why me?"

You could make him work for it. Some evil, self-preserving part of you wants to. Instead you just shrug, easy, like it costs you nothing, even though it costs you a little.

"There's enough cameras on the Captain."

It should be a joke. It sounds like one going out.

But Bucky's face does something complicated when it lands — like he's trying to file it under bit and it won't fit, like some part of him already knew and hearing it said plain just confirmed the math he'd been too chicken to finish.

He opens his mouth, then sharply closes it.

Pride hits him first, fast, his chin lifting before he can stop it. Of course, look at this handsome face. Then the crash — mouth open, nothing there, hand to the back of his neck. You want pictures of me?

You watch, unhurried, camera loose in your lap because for once you're not interested in capturing this. You just want to see it happen with your own eyes.

"...Oh," he finally says. One syllable, and it costs him visibly more than the whole sentence before it.

Then he grabs Dernier's cup and drains what's left of the moonshine in one go, throat working, eyes watering instantly. Even Steve — six feet away, half-asleep against his own pack — cracks an eye open and goes a quite pale just from the smell of it.

Bucky doesn't say anything else. He sits there coughing, eyes streaming, ears red clean past the collar, looking like a man who just survived something far more dangerous than the front.

You lift the camera and take the picture anyway.

this is how ur sneaky self is looking btw bc of the goddamn flashbulbs

$ tag @twentytomidnight @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @froggibus

"Friend alright, statement." Rocky pulls back from the xenonite as he awaits confirmation.

"Yes."

Visibly relaxing, "Grace so dramatiiiiiic—" Rocky drawls, and you're sure if he had eyes, he would be rolling them. "Grace is bad pilot. It fact. Friend try. See if better than Grace. Rocky thinks so. Grace worse than average."

"Mary! Back me up, please?" Grace looks to the ceiling for any kind of support.

"Dr. Grace has no previous records of pilot training received." Echoes from Mary's speakers, dealing the final blow as Grace purses his lips in a pout.

In Mary's defense, that does contribute to his argument. He can get better if he trains a bit more, but alas. The delivery of the line has comedic timing too good to ignore.

"Oh my God—" you cackle, snorting to catch your breath, "Let him live, both of you!"

"Rocky is no threat to Grace. Grace live. Odd human expression, question?"

Nodding, you manage to choke out a sound resembling yeah, wiping your eyes. As if remembering something, Rocky turns to you, and uh-oh, looks like you're next on the chopping block as the finger-like appendages meet into a point to gesture to you.

"Friend also! Inefficient human design. Leak for everything! Disguuust! Make Rocky worry. Apologize, statement."

Shaking with laughter, you lean against the xenonite, wrapping your arms around it in a hug. It's not like you can be mad at him for worrying about you, even though the things that worry him come with human anatomy itself. "Sorry for being human, buddy."

"Acceptable."

Rocky rolls next to your bunker when you're cleaning up your space a little.

"Friend. Time good, question? Rocky have question."

"Sure, hun. What's up?" you settle down to get comfortable. Rocky usually doesn't have simple questions, especially when seeking you out in private. If you're not the readily available human to ask in the first place, the reason why he seeks you out is to either get a second opinion (or confirm the information previously provided), or that he has not been able to get a satisfactory answer out of Grace.

"What word mean, question?" Rocky echoes, tilting his head, tapping a claw twice on the xenonite floor.

"Oh," This might be the first time you call him that petname, actually. "It's short for "honey", — a sweet subtance for consumption. It can also be used as a term of endearment for people who are close to you."

"Do not consume Rocky. Will not digest." You're still amazed at how well the humour carries on despite the translation device. "Eridian term of endearment not have "sweet" substance for consumption. We have ♫𝅘𝅥 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮♩ ♪___♩. ♪ ♬𝅘𝅥𝅭 𝅘𝅥𝅮 ... But not same word."

"Do you want me to add it as a word?"

"No. Rocky think for more similar word. Question, now. Statement," Rocky tumbles closer, "Rocky observe. Friend no touch Grace. Hand up," he raises a claw, acting as if he's going to touch his another claw, then suddenly puts it down and slumping in place. Putting a show for your dumb little brain, as Grace would say. "Then change mind. Display intention, but no act. Why?"

"That's a loaded question, bud," A long sigh leaves you before you can stop it. Shrugging, you opt for a mild; "I don't want to cross any boundaries, you know?"

"Rocky not know. That why Rocky ask."

Oh, great.

"Boundaries, Rocky knows." Rocky supplies after a brief moment of silence to prompt you into talking, "Grace has explained before. When Rocky first arrive on ship. But you Grace same. Species, same. Mission, same. Same same same. Why boundary, question?"

"... Humans are—" you start.

"Stupid. Statement." Rocky finishes your sentence for you.

"I was going to say complicated, but you know what? You are absolutely right."

Rocky makes a satisfied noise, "Rocky always right." There is a dolphin-like sound you pick up as Rocky shakes up and down, laughing. You think he's being smug about being right until he adds; "Rocky is favourite. No boundary. More hug. Friend love Rocky more than Grace."

"Hey, now—"

"What counts as human mating behaviour, question?"

Unlike Grace, you live to yap with Rocky about the differences in species, perhaps owing to a personal interest in anthropology.

"Ooh, very sudden but flavourful question," grinning, you tap your chin in thought, "Do you mean like, courtship, or behaviour displayed exclusively between mates?"

"Second."

"You first, then. Just to provide an example."

Rocky gives a contemplative hum, one claw fluttering over the turquoise mark along his arm. "Mating mark, here. Rocky have Adrian mark."

"It's beautiful..." your eyes graze over the mark. Even with the sentimental meaning aside, it does look like something precious, like a gem or mother of pearl. "A little similar to that, humans have tattoos. We, uh... force ink under our skin to create patterns we like. But it's more of a personal expression, and not exclusive to mates, even if you get matching tattoos with another."

Rocky thrums, and he's definitely judging. You can tell.

"Otherwise, off the top of my head? Kissing, but... on the lips. That's exclusive to mates, I think. Kissing the cheek or hand for example, are not, and can be a display of affection or even respect, depending on the culture."

"... Matching patterns not sign of mate. Touching mouths is sign of mate." Rocky makes an exaggerated motion with his body, displeased at the mere idea, though before he can comment any further, you jut your hands out in a panic;

"We have wedding bands!" you blurt, pointing at your ring finger, "It's when you — supposedly and arguably — commit to your mate for life. You take a vow, and the collective recognizes you as a pair. Traditionally, you wear matching rings made of precious metal to signify the "unbreakable bond" or something."

"... Are you explaining the concept of marriage to Rocky?" You whip around to see Grace leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and with an amused grin on his face.

"Help," Pleading, you reach out for him, and surprisingly, he takes your hand momentarily as he sits down.

Unnecessary physical contact.

You might, in fact, be so touch starved that you classify the action as flirting before you bury it deep down.

"Rocky no understand. Do puppet show."

Both you and Grace blink.

"For... for what..?" Grace asks, putting the glasses hanging off his chin back on his nose bridge.

"For everything! Rocky study Earth culture. Do puppet show! Grace and friend as puppets for better understanding, statement."

Rocky opens and closes his claws in a very enthuastic display of jazz hands.

".... I can narrate." you offer dumbly, the mere thought of close contact with Grace frying your mind, "We both can, actually. ... Shall we?"

The two of you get up, casting one last awkward glance at each other before holding hands and interlocking fingers.

"Why does this feel like explaining reproductive biology to middleschoolers..." Grace sighs, and you bark out a startled laugh.

"Ryland Grace!" you squeak, putting on your best scandalized form, swiftly delivering a light smack to his bicep, "We're not procreating! Certainly not in front of Rocky!"

"Would procreate if Rocky leave room, question?"

"Don't even, Rocky." Grace raises his pointer finger at him, brows raised as the ultimate warning.

After a getting past the initial awkward phase of trying to talk through scenarios and where to put your hands, you realise both you and Grace have a knack for acting.

It starts off with showing Rocky an initial meeting, mostly consisting of explanation and dialogue. Then come the dates, with a lot more props involved, like a makeshift wheel made out of a large valve as Grace pretends to pick you up from your home. It's like a dam has been broken with how many ideas flood the two of you.

Neither of you comment on how you're essentially acting out on your fantasies.

You act out a fancy dinner date, blundering through explaining why mood lighting in the form of candles is so important. Then, a more causal dinner date, something like a diner; showing classic things like sharing a milkshake with two straws, and somehow it's cute and playful to steal fries off of your lover's plate.

Moving rooms, you start getting more specific.

Acting out beach dates and swimming together, and at some point the conversation derails so bad that Grace ends up having you sit on his shoulders while he sits on his knees, and;

"It's played with two pairs. The one on the bottom is usually the stronger out of the pair, both to be able to carry the other and to have a strong foundation so the other pair can't push you off that easily," He keeps a hand on your thigh as a safety measure while he gestures to his waist with his free hand, "You would be in the sea water waist-deep at the very least, though going higher is usually preferred. And then the ones on top try to topple each other, and the pair who stays standing wins."

"It's a bonding activity for all parties and induces some friendly competition," you add, a hand resting on Grace's head, absentmindedly noting how soft his hair is before you pat the crown of his head to signal you want to get off.

"Display of strength. Rocky understand."

Then come the cinema dates, and Grace, of course, does not miss out on the opportunity to show the classic "pretend-yawn-and-embrace" move, to which Rocky visibly looks confused at, and Grace covers all his bases as he mentions cuddling is much more common in more private viewings, like at home.

"Okay, and then— again, traditionally," Grace shoos you a few steps ahead before tapping your shoulder, sinking to one knee as you turn around, bringing his hands together, then opening it as close to a ninety-degree angle as he can, pretending to open a ring box. "The male gets down on one knee to propose."

"Propose what, question?"

"Marriage, Rock."

"Oooh. Ceremony, question? Knee down also part of propose?"

"Eh," Grace makes a small, non-commital noise, "Pre-ceremony, more like. As for the kneeling, yes, but I'm not sure of the reason."

"I heard it dates back to knights." Avoiding his gaze in favour of looking at Rocky, your hands cup his, "Like, bending the knee to take the chivalric oath, or to swear loyalty to their chosen Lady. Haven't checked my sources, though, so don't quote me on that."

"That... makes so much sense, actually."

"Ceremony over when knee down, question? Proposal just gesture?"

"Oh! No Rock, you actually give a speech," Grace tilts his head like a cat, "Let me think, uhh..." A short sniffle out of reflex, "Something like..." gears in his head turning, he takes a moment before clearing his throat, fixing his posture before looking into your eyes, a hand resting over yours, "I, Ryland Grace—"

No matter how nervous you feel, you must not flex your hand, he will feel it. Pull it together, deep breaths. Deep breaths.

"Promise to love and cherish you for all my days. I promise to be true to you in good times and the bad, in sickness and in health,"

Can he feel your pulse from your wrist? God, you hope not. It feels like your heart is trying to beat itself out of your ribcage.

"Will you marry me?"

Time stops.

Something in his gaze is different. You look for any semblance of humour or pretend, just something to let you know that he is doing this for the sake of the puppet show, and find... none.

"Yes," you manage to breathe out, the sound barely audible.

Grace— Ryland? Even if it was an act, you just proposed, and accepted the proposal respectively — does not take his eyes off yours as he rises, leaning a bit closer, breath mingling with yours, and—

He bypasses your face entirely, opting in for a hug.

"Couples usually kiss after that, since it's a happy event." He presses you closer to him, talking to Rocky over your shoulder.

You don't mourn the fact that you cannot see his face when you can feel his heart beat is just as thunderous against his chest when you're so close you can feel the heat emanating off his skin.

Each time the front door gave way to a sudden rush of wind, you glanced up, observing, picking apart. There was the civilian, whose wide eyes flickered like he'd stumbled into a place twenty miles from where he was actually meant to be. Then came the couple—definitely military—who sidled up to the counter and rattled drinks off like a maintenance checklist, like they couldn't quite shake off work. 

The worst ones were the slim-bodied, khaki-clad aviators, who sauntered in with the confidence of a vain peacock, laughter as vibrant as the attention-grabbing feathers adorned in deep blues and verdant greens.

Hangman leaned against the counter with that perfectly, frustratingly charming grin of his. Your name rolled off his tongue, laced with shallow affection. A light-hearted flirt fest was all. "How've you been, sweetheart?"

"You're a few hours from Lemoore," you said. "Both of you."

The corners of Coyote's lips flipped up. "Missed us?"

"Terribly." Sarcasm dripped from your tone. "What can I get you tonight?"

Amber beer bottles scraped against the counter. Hangman winked as he threw a few dollar bills down—a hefty tip, as always—and you blew a meaningless kiss in the air that sent him and Coyote away. 

"Your dad know you're flirting with his men?"

You turned slowly in hopes that you could rein in the widening stretch of your mouth in time, but a full-blown beam glimmered beneath the dim bar lights as you met the familiar raised eyebrows and knowing green eyes that had watched you—and seen past your innocent eyelash batting—through nearly every stage of life.

"I was wondering how long it'd take before you showed up here," you said, cheeks flushed with remnants of a passing youth. You rounded the bartop, two strides becoming one, feet light like the floor was made of springs. 

Maverick barely twisted in his seat in time for your embrace, his shoulder digging into your sternum as you flung your arms around his neck. He shifted, winding his grasp around your ribs, unable to hide his smile as your sweet laughter echoed in his ears like a bright sunny day. "Hi, kid."

"Hi, Mav. It's been a while. I missed you."

"How'd you know I'd be around?"

You were behind the bar again. "All this time, and you're still asking."

Maverick's lips thinned. Of course. "How is he?"

A sharp breath inflated your chest, your gaze falling to the lemons yet to be cut. You picked up the knife. "I don't feel like crying on the job today," you said with a slight tremble. You made one slice before putting the knife back down and forcing your chin up. "You should go see him while you're here. I'm sure he'd appreciate it after all the strings he's pulled for you."

"You're making digs at me now?"

"Only fair for all the teasing you've put me through as a kid." Your gaze slid to the door as it swung open. Just another group of civilians. "Look," you propped your forearms on the counter, "I'm not supposed to know anything about this, but you know my dad has never been able to keep things from me, especially not about..." You paused when Maverick's expression wavered, then cast a glance over your shoulder, toward Hangman and Coyote by the dartboard—the only kind of people you'd come to know throughout your life. "I know Bradley got called back here. Are you ready to see him?"

Are you? came close to slipping out of Maverick's mouth—a quick rebuttal he'd slammed down with teeth grinding together, just short of painful. The sting eventually shot through his jaw when he noticed the threaded bracelet looped around your wrist, weathered and stained as time frayed the edges. You and Bradley had matching ones. He remembered that. He was there when you made them.

And the shirt you were wearing—a deep blue with the University of Virginia insignia printed in the middle—was loose around the collar, nearly sliding down your shoulder, sleeves scraping past your elbows. It was almost comically oversized. If he had to guess, he'd say it was Bradley's, somehow in your possession over the years—years he'd lost with him, but years you hadn't.

Those aviators, too, roosted atop your head, clearly forgotten to take off before the start of your shift, looked an awful lot like the ones he'd gotten Bradley as a teenager. You must have been the recipient of them after their relationship had plummeted into the seventh circle of Hell.

Money not wasted, he supposed. 

But his question would've been a stupid one to ask.

You were nearly doused in Bradley Bradshaw, and instead of the tumultuous ball of dread cradled in his stomach, your heart was probably jumping for joy at the very thought of seeing him again.

Something in his chest clenched as the mission loomed over his head. You. He had to think of you, too. He couldn't afford to blow this.

"Get back to work," he finally said.

Your gaze flitted over his face—steely, calculating, like you were dissecting every thought that passed through his brain, paired with a cocky edge that pushed your head atilt, obnoxiously chomping on the stale piece of gum in your mouth. God, you were every bit Iceman's kid when you did that. 

Maverick wasn't sure if he found comfort in that.

"Fine," you relented. "We'll do it your way, Uncle Pete." You pushed away from the counter. "But you owe me dinner."

You returned your attention to your job, mentally preparing for the moment this bar would be turned upside down and inside out as the clock struck closer to midnight. The limes and lemons were cut into wedges, and you'd wiped down the counter more times than truly necessary, and really, you should be switching out the kegs, but Maverick looked pathetically lonely as he nursed a pint, and you'd run your luck—and a keg—dry the last time you tried to do it, so you remained at your station and hoped someone else would do it for you.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." Penny froze, a crate of freshly washed glasses and schooners perched on her hip. "You know about this?"

You bit back a grin, innocently shrugging. You could feel Maverick's disbelief burning into the rear of your head as you attended to a new patron. Then another. And another. Until the bell clamored beside you, a jingle that coaxed cheers from everyone but the reason behind it.

"Tough night, Mav," you said over your shoulder, but your amusement trailed off when Hangman's voice ricocheted like a jet engine.

"What do we have here?"

With Payback and Fanboy flanked behind her, Phoenix strolled through the front door—just three. Your stare lingered on the closing gap as the door thudded against the frame, trying to keep the small puff of dejection from blowing against the bottle of vodka in your hand.

He'd be here soon enough.

Hangman eventually found his way back to the bar. "Penny, my dear."

"Yeah?"

"I'll have four more on the old-timer."

Your lips slanted. The slight tilt of Maverick's head was meant to snuff out your impending rib-aching, tear-filled laughter, but your smirk only deepened. "You gonna be able to buy me dinner after this, old man?"

"You're trouble," said Maverick. His gaze darted to Penny, long enough for you to understand that he had meant more than just the fun you were poking at. 

All you responded with was a wink.

Hangman beckoned you over with his fingers. He leaned down, his voice a quiet hum against the ruckus flowering around you. "I'm not one to judge, but he's a little older than your usual target, ain't he?"

You ducked your head, hiding the way your face twisted in all the wrong ways and swallowing down the retch shooting up your throat, before the coquettish mask returned. "My usual target's not here."

"Will he be?"

"I don't believe I'm at liberty to tell you, Hangman."

His eyes crinkled. "Well, if you're looking for a new one," he said, "you know where to find me."

You snorted. 

"Bradshaw!"

Your head whipped toward the door.

Amidst the throng of people pouring into the Hard Deck, you spotted the familiar sunkissed skin swathed in a loose, unbuttoned shirt, jeans mapping out the creases in his muscles, and those sunglasses you'd talked him into buying one day. Your mouth had tipped up in a smile before you even realized.

Hangman sighed. "And there goes my chance."

"Like you ever had one." Penny slid in beside you, putting down four beers in front of Hangman.

"I'll let him know you're here."

Your gaze followed Bradley as he bounded past the bar and toward the pool tables, joining the growing group of aviators. "No, you won't."

Hangman flashed another one of his charming smiles. "Much appreciated, Pops. Hey, sweetheart, what song are you feeling? I was thinkin' Slow Ride." He scrunched his nose when you fixed him with a dry and hardened stare. "Offer's still on the table."

"Keep dreaming, Seresin!" you exclaimed to his back.

Maverick handed his card to Penny to close his tab. His gaze was heavy on you, tracking the way your giddy grin faltered as a new song danced into the air. Hangman's laughter was a beacon within the crowd, as though he knew you were rolling your eyes at him. You hadn't even followed through when you drifted to Bradley again, like a compass needle always finding true north.

Yeah, his qualms with this mission went beyond him and Bradley. He definitely needed to think of you.

"Why'd you pull his papers, Mav?" you asked softly, a quiet hum that was nearly lost in the flood of commotion warming the room up. It felt misplaced for a place like this. But you asked anyway. 

"He wasn't ready."

You slipped a lemon wedge against a glass. "Neither was I, and you and my dad hadn't made a sound when I put my application in. I think that only pissed him off some more."

"You weren't going in to be a pilot."

"Bullshit, and you know it. If my eyes hadn't shit the bed, I'd be in that cockpit." You handed the drink off to a waiting sailor. "I know it's different—you and him, you and I—but at the end of the day, he still made it here. Was it really worth losing him over it?"

The muscles in Maverick's jaw ticked. He shook the distant fog in his eyes away. "Do you always have heart-to-hearts with your customers?"

"Only the ones I grew up with."

Penny put Maverick's card down on the counter. "It's been declined."

Disbelief warped his face. "You're kidding."

Penny didn't pull her attention from him as she told you, "Why don't you take your fifteen?"

You didn't stick around. You didn't want to. You'd seen Penny and Maverick dance around each other for as long as you could remember, spanning since before you were born. Whatever unresolved tension hung between them was something you did not want to be trapped in the midst of.

Hangman wooed. "I knew you couldn't resist, sweetheart."

But his words fell on deaf ears as your hand glided up Bradley's arm and across the expanse of his back. His skin didn't twitch, and there wasn't a flicker of surprise in Bradley's eyes—not at the sudden warmth encasing the scars littered on his neck that traced the path of your touch, not at the brush of your thumb against the hairs on the back of his head, not at the comforting press of your body against his, not at the weight of your stare that seemed to settle his entire soul. 

No, of course not. He would know you even if his memory were wiped.

Bradley snaked his arm around your waist, meeting your eyes with a face-splitting grin. A sweet mix of seasalt, wood, and sweat encircled you as his body draped over yours, the tautness in your shoulders dissipating with a slow exhale that would make the next few hours of fulfilling drink orders worth it. You weren't sure if the shivers prickling your skin were from the ticklish brush of his mustache or the gentle kiss on the curve of your neck.

"Watch the hand, Bradshaw," you warned when his palm ventured low over the curve of your spine, skimming the top of your jeans. His chest trembled with laughter, and yours followed as you pulled away—a sound so attuned to his, a familiar beat you'd grown up with, one your heart had learned to mimic. "Hiya, you big stud."

"You look good," he said, kissing the side of your head. "Always do."

A satisfied hum rippled in your throat. You remained nestled against Bradley, but turned to Hangman with a sugary sweet smile. "Oh, I'm sorry, Seresin. Did you say something?"

Hangman rolled his eyes as laughter erupted around you.

Bradley's lips grazed the shell of your ear, breath warm. "Unplug the jukebox and meet me at the piano?"

"I was getting sick of this song anyway." You slipped from Bradley's grasp, even as his arm seemed to contradict his words and tightened around you.

Groans weaved between patrons as you yanked the plug from the outlet, slicing through the song that Hangman had selected.

Bradley held his hand over his shoulder, waiting patiently to feel yours slide against his before pulling you onto his lap. "How long do I have you for?"

"One song," you said, taking his folded sunglasses from the collar of his white vest and resting them back on the bridge of his nose. "Make it a good one, hot stuff."

"Yes, ma'am." His fingers dexterously tapped along the black and ivory keys of the wooden upright piano, quelling the complaints around them. 

Something warm wrapped around you, memories infiltrating your mind of late summer nights in high school, and endless karaoke nights he'd back you up with, and ballads after your first heartbreak, and thunderous thrumming that kept the party alive, and relaxing Saturday mornings as the waves crashed into the nearby shore, and stories you'd heard from your dad and Maverick over the years, and behind each one, you could hear Bradley pressing one key after another.

There was nothing quite like it.

The bell rang again as a distant echo in your head. You managed to catch the moment Hangman, Payback, and Coyote carried Maverick out of the bar by his limbs. Overboard. Briefly, your eyes connected over Bradley's shoulder, and you picked out the subtle shift in his expression, like he, too, was caught in a memory. A very different one.

Then, he was gone in a blink of an eye.

Maverick left your mind just as quickly as he'd gone as the first few notes of Great Balls of Fire played out. Bradley had told you about the fading recollection he had of him perched on a piano while his dad belted out the song. He also spent hours teaching you to play it. You were sure Carole would've been sick of the song by the time you'd figured it out if it didn't remind her so much of Goose.

"You shake my nerves, and you rattle my brains," Bradley started strongly, his voice rasping with charisma. His mouth was hot against your ear. "Too much love drives a man insane!"

Laughter shook your chest as you joined in, your head bobbing to the rhythm. You didn't care for the way his body jostled, or his head bumped against the back of your shoulder as he damn near shouted the lyrics for everyone to hear.

It was fun. Being with Bradley was always fun.

Whether it was doing fifty push-ups in the kitchen together because your dad thought he was standing too close to you, or helping you with the infinite mountain of paperwork you needed to fill out during your tenure in the Navy, or grocery shopping with his mom before she passed—all of it was a zing of adrenaline and a rush of dopamine when it was with him.

You were out of breath by the time the song ended, throat scratched raw from belting out the familiar song. Ecstasy leaked into your exhale, trembling yet light, and your lips remained pinned up as Bradley squeezed your waist, his arm winding around securely, a comfortable heat seeping past the fabric of your shirt.

It took everything in you to peel away from his grasp.

"What time are you off?" he asked.

"You've got an early morning," you said. "Don't do it to yourself."

Bradley twisted around as you disappeared through the sea of people. "But I want to!"

The rest of the night had stretched long and strenuously, incessantly churning out drink orders, wiping down sticky counterspace, and restocking bottles. By the time the last drunk-to-high-heaven person had ushered themselves out, you were ready to collapse behind the bar and call it a night.

Penny had to pull you off a stool before your eyes fluttered shut until daybreak.

Hauling your bag over your shoulder, you shouted goodnight to her on your way out. The chilly coastal breeze beyond the front door did enough to revive what little energy you had left, bones chattering beneath your pebbled skin.

A startled gasp cut past your lips when you found Bradley leaning against your car, sunglasses askew on his nose and one sleeve of his loose, unbuttoned shirt sliding down his arm. Somehow, he still looked more put together than you. "I thought you left with the rest of 'em."

His head snapped up, a slow grin stretching across his face. "You wouldn't tell me what time you got off, so I waited."

"And now you need someone else to get you home," you said, recounting the drinks you'd served him (and cut him off from for his own benefit).

Bradley dug his keys out of his pocket, the matching bracelet you had with him hanging off the keychain that glinted beneath the exterior lights of the Hard Deck, and handed them to you for safekeeping. "Yes, ma'am." He watched you haphazardly stuff your things into the backseat of your car. "D'you know why we got called back?"

A teasing spark shined in your eyes. "Should've known you just wanted to use me."

Something akin to a wounded noise escaped Bradley. "Baby, no." His hands clumsily cradled your jaw. "I would never."

"What about the time you tried to make Vanessa Torres jealous?" You pushed his sunglasses into his hair.

"That was one time. Almost twenty years ago."

"So not never." The amusement on your face faltered, easily wiped away as time plunged deeper into the night. You curled your fingers around his wrist, his radial pulse gently beating beneath you. "I don't know what the mission is," you conceded quietly, swallowing thickly, "but whatever it is, promise me you'll come back."

Bradley's eyes flickered between yours. You had probably done this a million times by now—made him swear that he'll return. That he'll return to you. Alive. And each time, he felt the weight of his career compressing his bones until he was about ten inches shorter. Was this what his dad felt? He wished he could ask him that, see if it got any easier.

"Haven't I always?" He hoped you wouldn't notice the slight crack in his voice.

You gave a short hum, as though you could see right past him. He doubted that the lingering alcohol coursing through his system was any good at keeping a mask up; then again, he was never very good at hiding things from you to begin with.

"Get in the car," you said softly, pulling your face away from his hands. "We'll grab your Bronco in the morning."

"Can I get a kiss first?"

That got a quiet little huff of laughter from you, swelling when he pulled you even closer, his arms tightly looping around your waist, like the very notion of space between you was inexcusable.

"Kiss me, baby," he sang like he was behind the piano again. Quieter this time—a personal serenade.

"You're something else, Bradshaw." You pulled him down for a surprisingly gentle kiss, a delicate pressure that sent a quiet, warm ripple straight to your chest. You hated to pull away, even as your heart rapped against your ribs and your lungs heaved for air, but you couldn't stop the giddy stretch of your lips as age-old butterflies erupted in your stomach. 

"Ooh," Bradley shivered, "that feels good."

"Yeah?" You notched an eyebrow. "You gonna love me like a lover should?"

"Oh, baby, I'll do a lot more than that." He nuzzled his face against your neck. "I'ma tell this world that you're mine, mine, mine."

"Good." You stole another kiss. "Now get in the car."

“Maybe we should’ve picked a closer coffee shop,” you pant. 

Leaning his bike to one side, Ryland sighs. “Yeah…not our greatest idea.”

Studying somewhere farther seemed fine. Better than the lobby of your shared apartment complex, or the university library you’ve been jailed at recently. But since neither of you own a vehicle, the boulevard stretch ahead – devoid of cars and lined with trees – feels daunting. If only you could move faster. 

Suddenly, you bite back a smile.

“Let’s race to that stop sign,” you declare. 

“Race? Why?”

“Why not? It’s safe. And judging by the size of your helmet, Ry”– you giggle –“I think you’d survive a fall.” 

“Thanks,” Ryland deadpans. But he’s chuckling. “You know…I’ll take you letting me win in a race as an apology for that.”

“Fine. Deal.”

He beams. “So when–”

You don’t even let him finish. You’re off. “Now!”

“Hey!”

As you gain speed, the wind whistles in your ears – but you still hear Ryland’s playful shouts from behind. Even though you can’t see his face, you know his gray eyes are crinkling at the corners, and his glasses are slipping down the bridge of his cutely crooked nose. 

Your heart pounds from adrenaline. Nothing more. 

Shaking those thoughts away, you reach the sign and skid to a halt. “First!”

“No – fair!” Ryland laughs breathlessly, bike wheels clicking as he comes up next to you. “You got a – head start!”

“You can’t – prove that.”

“I can!”

“How?”

You make eye contact at the same time. 

Ryland grins. “Rematch?”

“Oh, it is on.”

Well, the work will get done eventually.

For now, you’re allowed to race aimlessly up and down the boulevard together. You can savor the laughter in your chest and the sight of Ryland’s blush-tinged cheeks. You can hold on to that feeling.

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆

✮ main taglist! @iristheplanet16

✮ ryland grace taglist! @devisedplan

dc heroes

First Dates to Forever by @lechelovestoyap featuring Clark Kent/Reader

This is a lovely commission that I asked Leche to write for me and she absolutely delivered; this fic has me smiling every time I go back to read it. I guess I’m just in love with Clark Kent again all over again :]

Starving by @kryptidfiles featuring Clark Kent/Reader (18+)

Jae has me out here folding for bro……..unbelievable……..this is an INCREDIBLE smut fic with apologetic, horny Clark and I’m on my way to re-read it right now lol

The Puddle Predicament by @iridescentlightshow featuring Jon Kent/Gn!Reader

I adored this fic with the touching affection that is captured in every line of this fic. Give it a read!

Class Is In Session by @bat1nsignia featuring Kara Zor-El/Reader

This one is so very heartfelt and loving and there’s such a darling, beautiful atmosphere to this fic—give Insignia’s fic a read!

Good Boy by @frostedpinkicing featuring Bruce Wayne/Reader (18+)

Absolutely delicious fic featuring Bruce with a mommy kink…….something I never realized how badly I needed…..WHEW

Conspiracies, Conspiracies by @batslvrr featuring Vampire!Bruce Wayne/F!Reader

This was so lovely and intricate to read, everyone please go give Nor’s turn a good look and give her all the flowers for this one!

He Swears His Life To You by @bloomcissa featuring Knight!Bruce Wayne/Reader

Now this is some real heat…….need me some him Cissa…….or at the very least a few thousand more blurbs of this………

Rooftop by @spectorgram featuring Dick Grayson/Villain!Reader

OOOOOOOO the dynamic and the detail in this one is top-tier……….I love the gradually building tension and banter……give Nove’s fic a read!

Dick Grayson Getting Cucked by Wally West by @nagumolvr featuring Dick Grayson/Reader/Wally West (18+)

Pretty much everything that it says in the title but oh my god…….sometimes seeing is believing my friend. 100/10

Risk by @lushberrys featuring Bodyguard!Jason Todd/Reader

This is an ongoing multi-chapter fic that Lizzy is cooking up that makes me want nothing more than to have that big beefy man protecting me with those strong arms of his…….is it getting hot in here? That just me???????

Color Me You by @luviery featuring Jason Todd/Reader

The way that I would best describe this delightful, wonderful story is a warm hug that envelops you with the growing radiance of the sun. You gotta read this multi-chapter fic by Luvie I beg of you.

Pawns by @skeeets featuring Jason Todd/Reader

Kim really wrote a masterpiece with this absolute banger of a fic that hews to the angsty side and is brought to life with the beauty of her words—go read it NOW!

Simple Things by @filmcamerasanddice featuring Jason Todd/Gn!Reader

There’s something really special about the way that Reg writes Jason and his protective nature, so you’re doing yourself a disservice if you don’t go and read this fic right now!

One Night Only by @infinictus featuring Jason Todd/Reader

You ever sit on the edge of your seat just absolutely immersed in tension? Well, I owe Anx money now because DAMN this one had wondering will they…..WILL THEY…………oh man I love me some Todd…….

Distraction by @kqinoraswrites featuring Jason Todd/Reader

There is something so genuine and touching about this fic and it really just invokes this warmth every time that I read it. :)

This Seal’s Got Attitude by @fanfictionwarrior-chills featuring Tim Drake/Selkie!Reader

This fic truly defies description—it is a masterclass in building emotions, romance, and it’s everything any Tim Drake fan could ask for; PLEASE go read it.

My “Husband" by @inkievoid featuring Tim Drake/Reader

Miscommunication leads to some goofy, endearing shenanigans between you and your man Tim Drake. This fic gave me a big ol’ smile on my face after I read it and it will for you too….PROMISE

Letting Her Cut Your Bangs by @kooriandr featuring Stephanie Brown/Reader

Len does some amazing fics and this fic recommendation is a plea on my hands and knees begging her for more Stephanie Brown fic because every time she does it you can feel the absolute love, the tenderness the EMOTION that is evoked………Len please one william dollar

Fade to Black by @pixelbfs featuring James Gordon/Gn!Reader

The way I’ve been looking high and low for a James Gordon and Neil scratched that particular itch so well……if you don’t give me that dilf……..WHEW

Gal Gardner Picks You Up At A Party by @kaydekarios featuring Gal Gardner/Reader

Ugh…….WOMEN……….GAL GARDNER……….I will be off in the corner rereading this fic an approximate 49734302143789021 times

Hiding Behind Your Hands by @luvmailing featuring Guy Gardner/Reader

Val captures Guy’s character so well and I’m always in love with him whenever I read one of their fics. Justice for Guy Nation is always served well here hehe

Weight Gain by @gothamcitypublicworks featuring Guy Gardner/F!Reader

Sheev holds up Guy Nation in a noble cause and this fic is such a delightful, sweet treat of a fic that I always grin at reading whenever I come back to it :)

500 Miles by @kitkatscabinet featuring Hal Jordan/Reader

You like pain? You like getting your heart ripped out? GO READ THIS, I’m busy lying on the ground staring at the ceiling for the next few hours……catch you later……

Construction Work by @weeniesausage featuring Hal Jordan/ConstructionWorker!FtM!Reader

This fic has such rich detail, such lingering emotion, such evocative emotions that it invokes of two people falling in love……oooh I love this one so much :)

Trial and Error by @froggibus featuring Wally West/Reader

I love me some delicious delicious angst mixed in with a heaping serving of yearning and love that makes you hurt so bad you’re in pain…..and boy does Froggi deliver with that one here. Two words: OOF OUGH. Three more: READ IT NOW

Secret Recipe by @gglouise23 featuring Wally West/Reader

You ever eat something that just floods you with that sweet rush of affection from head to toe? This is the visal, readable version of that. Please go check it out!!!!!!!

Bleached Beard by @gr0und-zer00 featuring Oliver Queen/Wife!Reader (18+)

ZERO BRINGS THE PEOPLE WHAT THEY NEED: MORE OLIVER QUEEN!!!!!!!! absolutely delicious smut that I have had the privilege of reading wih my own two eyes and I will read again and again :)

The Muse of Venus by @bonesofapoet featuring John Constantine/Artist!Reader (18+)

How do you condense poetry into prose in such few words, featuring our snarky resident magic user? You read this incredible fic by Kas and you come back and let me know how much you adored it just like I did. :)

Genie in a Bottle by @wonderrheartt featuring Roy Harper/Reader/Wally West (18+)

GODDAMN this was some absolutely delicious food. I love gingers I love men I love this incredible fic!!!!!!!

dc villains

Tear You Apart by @colonelfish featuring Eobard Thawne/Reader (18+)

Now this one is a special, wicked, nasty dirty fic featuring that rotten scoundrel Eobard Thawne…..and I LOVED every word of it HEHEHEHE

Manila Envelope by @batwngs featuring Talia Al Ghul/Reader

Z is a real wordsmith and every time you read her stories you just can’t help but be immersed in the absolute delight it is to watch her way with words; this fic is no exception!

marvel heroes

I Dare You To Try by @batsycline69 featuring Steve Rogers/Reader

Mags really knocks this fic out of the park; there’s something so inherently soft and lovely about this fic and I just adored reading it, give it a looksee!

Fell in Love With A Stripper by @c-nstantine featuring Steve Rogers/Black!Stripper!Reader

Athena is doing the lord’s work with this fic of having Steve Rogers fall deeply, insatiably in love and I cannot emphasize how much I adore this fic!!!!

Touch Starved by @biglychee featuring Bucky Barnes/F!Reader

The biggest Lychee always delivers when it comes to a Bucky fic and you are doing yourself a favor by reading this delicious fic about a subby Bucky and dom!reader…….DAMN

Triple Beds, Triple Disorders by @devisedplan featuring Bucky Barnes/Reader

The same bed trope never ever ever ever gets old and I can’t help but love Devised’s excellent take on this one with a certain surly soldier……..HMMMMMMMM :)))))

Nightcrawler Headcanons by @sagebrush-and-sadness featuring Kurt Wagner/Reader (18+)

I cannot emphasize how Veta has such illustrative way with words and undivided devotion to our fuzzy Blue Elf Kurt—this is a masterpiece of a headcanon fic.

The Very Injured Caterpillar by @vigilantekisser featuing Matt Murdock/Kindergarten Teacher!Reader

As a teacher this story hit very close to home and also felt very realistic and grounded while also maintaining a healthy amount of humor and romance; Joey does an excellent juggling job of putting them all together and having me walk away well satisfied from this excellent fic!

Matt Finds You All Tied Up by @cerenawoe featuring Matt Murdock/Reader (18+)

This is so deliciously dark I can’t help but come back and reread it for the same rush of endorphins I had the first time I read it. >:)

Carried Away by @lilacst4rs featuring Johnny Storm/Reader (18+)

This is such an excellent take on a softer side of Johnny that isn’t just for show, and I truly enjoyed reading about him in this exemplary fic. Give it a read!

Safe and Starry-Eyed by @wordbunch featuring Ben Grimm/F!Reader

Ben Grimm is a man who deserves a soft love, a happy ending—and Ana provides it all AND MORE!!!!!!

X-Men Headcanons by @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger featuring X-Men Angel, Rogue, Cyclops and Wolverine

This is so indulgent and lovely to hear Dreamer’s take on such beloved characters and did I have a big ol’ smile on my face reading this? YEP and you will too if you read it hehe :)

Sharing a Bed With Fem!X-Men Members by @stanbullseye featuring Rogue, Jean Grey, Emma Frost, Madely Pryor, Sue Storm

We don’t get enough for the gals and this one certainly filled the thirst I needed to slake for the wonderful Marvel women………give it a gander my friends

marvel villains

Shhh! by @halfofmysoulsblog featuring Venom/Black!Reader (18+)

Oh this fic is so fucking hot it steams; all I have to say is that were it me……welll………….I would be certainly blessed indeed…….

Benjamin Poindexter Headcanons by @hypnospatron featuring Benjamin Poindexter/Reader (18+)

Dex is a nasty, shameless man and this fic by Hypnos is just such a beautiful demonstration of the wicked man that I would let tear me apart. 100000/10

When You’re Lost In the Dark by @futuremrscameron featuring Bob Reynolds/Reader

Seeping with broody atmosphere, with delicious detail that makes you feel as though you’re actually walking down darkened city streets, with such poignant emotion, Courtney really kills it with this and I need her to write more PLEASEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!

Worst Time To Start Your Period by @haljordansnumberonefan featuring Bullseye/Reader (18+)

Aehtlama is a pro at writing for this devious man and this fic certainly demonstrates her incredible writing skill………give it a look my friends…….

resident evil

Househusband by @slowerghost featuring Leon Kennedy/Reader

Now this fic is an absolute ray of sunshine that shows how wonderful it would be living with Mr. Kennedy. Big fan of this fic and you should be too!

Cracking An Egg With Chris by @starberrymatcha featuring Chris Redfield/Reader

This is a cute adorable warm blanket of a fic featuring some objectification of Chris Redfield…….not that I’m complaining……..SHEESH

Nemesis by @gilverrwrites featuring Nemesis/Reader (18+)

Val wrote a fic that I’ve been silently dreaming of for forever……please enjoy this while I go beg her for more……

Secret Service by @theebladestar featuring Ashley Graham/F!Reader (18+)

Goddamn BladeStar always cooks with whatever fic that they cook up and this smut is so fucking perfect.......need me some Ashley Graham bad..........

supernatural

Sam Winchester With The Tongue by @pittsick featuring Sam Winchester/Reader (18+)

I love me a flustered Sam Winchester and this fic delivered everything I could have wanted. Absolutely delicious serving of a fic and I humbly request more.

His Lips by @cherryvvave featuring Dean Winchester/Reader

It’s been a long, long time since I’ve looked at Dean Winchester like this but Cherry really has re-opened my eyes…….and brother they ain’t closing after I read this one……….MAN

the pitt

Touchstarved by @stargirlfics featuring Michael Robinaitch/Reader

Amalia has me folding for another white man because this fic had every detail sizzling off the page. MAN

Too Sweet by @novatheory featuring Brendon Park/Reader

Nova wrote such a lovely and heartfelt fic with just a vulnerable tenderness lingering in between the lines; I absolutely loved this. :)

I Can’t Believe You by @ficdelusioncore featuring Jack Abbot/Reader

There is something so healing, so romantic, so cathartic, and so beautiful about this fic about someone who refuses to see love right before their very eyes.

invincible

Like A P%rn Star by @sobbingscripter featuring Omni-Man/Reader (18+)

I come back to this fic every so often just to imagine……..just to indulge in this fantasty……….Nolan just one chance PLEASE

When Did You Get Hot? by @queen-of-gotham featuring Mark Grayson/Reader (18+)

Am I really going to watch this show in record time just for all of these attractive men? YES and now everyone can say thank you Gotham and go read this fic immediately!!!!!!!

Remnants of Privacy by @splodencible featuring Rex Splode/Stripper!Reader (18+)

Good lord……..good lord Maddie………….all the blood in my body………another nail straight into the coffin for me to devote a few days to watching this show……….MAN

outlast trials

Pusher by @doqt33th featuring Pusher/Reader (18+)

This is the very fic that made me fold for Pusher single-handedly and I need you all to join me in love forthis freak. good LORD

Operant Conditioning #2 by @acapelladitty featuring Dr. Easterman/Reader (18+)

Ditty had an integral hand in helping me fall head-over-heels for this manipulative bastard with a receding hairline……soooooo fucking good my friends…….SO GOOD

transformers

Singularity by @doqt33th featuring Mirage/Reader (18+)

Holllllly fuck this fic is an absolute banger. No words can possibly edscribe this you just gotta read it yourself my friend

You Knew I Loved You, Right? by @t-a-a-1 featuring Optimus Prime/Reader

Now this one absolutely hangs heavy with angst and unrequited love……oh man is this one a masterpiece…..

Everything Is Alright—Scenario: Pretty by @revelboo featuring Shockwave/Reader

A very cute blurb of married life……or uh something humorously close to it. Love this one!!!!

star wars

Lovesick by @petalonthepavement featuring Din Djarin/Reader

God this fic had me with my hand clapped over my mouth with a smile on my face, waiting to see what would happen next………..please please read it for some delightfully poignant fluff!!!!

When the Rain Falls by @starburstbarnes featuring Luke Skywalker/Gn!Reader

I think when you’re lucky enough to find excellent, detailed and such romantic fluff like this fic displays, you never let it go. Please check this out!!!!!

team fortress 2

7 Minutes In Heaven featuring the TF2 Squad by @finniestoncrane featuring the TF2!Squad/Reader (18+)

Finnie paints such a delicious steamy picture and man do I need me some THEM ALL AT ONCE DIABOLICALLY DELICIOUSLY AND DEDICATEDLY

Dating Headcanons with Engineer and Pyro by @eatfeet69 featuring Engineer/Reader, Pyro/Reader

Nate always serves some of the best TF2 content on this app and this lovely fic is no exception—especially when it features two of my favorite mercs HEHEHE :]

YKMET & the price of flesh

What a Ride by @rotrabbitrot featuring Strade/Reader

This fic Neo wrote had me on the edge of my seat in the best way possible and wanting more…….you gotta see this deliciously evil fic as soon as you possibly can I BEG of you!!!!

Step on Me by @danishpastri featuring Derek Goffard/Male!Reader (18+)

Holy……..words defy how delicious this multi-chapter fic is. You gotta read it and………let me know what y’all think because it’s a TREASURE hehehehehe

"I'm sorry to inform, we only have one room left available," The front desk employee regretfully stated with an apologetic expression.

"Does the room at least have two beds?" You swiftly asked, praying you won't end up having to share a bed.

The lack of speech from the receptionist was all the answer you needed. You thanked the receptionist in mild disappointment after retrieving your cards, stooping as you headed to the elevator.

"I can take the floor," Bucky finally spoke once you both step foot into the elevator.

"Really?" You snickered, pressing the floor button where your shared room resides.

Bucky's first reacted with a stone-face. Eventually, he faltered — unable to keep up his act and let out a soft chuckle.

"Yes. Is it that hard to believe?" He replied in a ribbing tone, displaying his signature smug smile.

The elevator halt with a faint ding. In reply, you pushed him playfully forward out of the lift.

"What was that for?" He chided facetiously, a feign scowl appear on his face.

You gave a cheeky grin before walking past him as if nothing happened. He let out a snort, following after you with a slight smile on his lips.

"I can hear you getting weird ideas, Barnes," You squinted your eyes suspiciously to him while unlocking the door of the room.

"I'm not," He replied with an amused sigh.

The door to your room finally unlocked. It took less than a couple of seconds for you to suddenly still, staring into the room while your hand was still on the door knob.

"You good?" Bucky asked, frowning at seeing you standing like a mannequin.

Suddenly, your lips pulled inwards, upper body shaking slightly as you attempted to not burst into a fit of giggles. Bucky couldn't help but move to look into the interior of the room.

Oh.

Joining you, he shut his eyes — crinkled lines formed at the edge. A deep baritone belly laugh erupted from him when his gaze landed in the room.

"I thought... they said..." You covered your mouth, trying to control your laughter.

"At least we have more than enough beds," Bucky replied, chuckling along.

The two of you walked in, placing your respective bags on your chosen bed. You two were still amused at the revelation — tickled at the sight of the three twin size beds.

"I'm sorry. I have to take a picture and text Sam," You giggled, taking out your phone to snap a photo. After sending the text, you put away your phone, jumping on your back to the bed.

"Do you snore?" You tilted your head to face Bucky.

"Not that I'm aware of," He replied, sitting by the foot of the bed while unpacking some of his items.

"I might," You warned him with a cheeky smile.

"Got any ear muffs?" He poked fun at you with a vexing grin.

You hurled a pillow in his directions — to which he managed to dodge with ease.

"Damn quick reflexes," You playfully rolled your eyes, earning a small laugh from him.

Once you had settled down — excusing yourself to shower and change into a fresh set of clothes — you announced you were going to turn in for the night.

"Sweet dreams," You said, sighing a little as you got comfortable under the bedsheets.

Bucky nodded in acknowledgement, preparing to head to bed as well. In his case though, that meant 'attempt' to fall asleep. It didn't take long for you to succumb to a deep slumber. He chuckled to himself when he heard the faint snores emitting from your side.

Taking the pillows, he fluffed them before placing it on the floor beside the bed he was supposed to lay on. As the temperature of the room was set neither too warm nor cold, he didn't use the covers as blanket. His body always ran hot anyway.

It felt like hours for Bucky as he stared at the ceiling above — unable to sleep.

He was about to close his eyes when he was made aware of how quiet the room went. He sat up, turning his head, only to rub his eyes when he realised something felt amiss.

Didn't they sleep at the bed furthest from me? Bucky thought to himself, an incredulous expression visible on his face.

He shook his head, chalking it to fatigue. The both of you had been travelling for hours after all. It was barely a few minutes he laid back down when he heard what sounded like shuffling. Confused, he slowly sat up again only for his eyes to be as wide as saucers. There you were, on top of the bed he supposedly slept on. He blinked for a good second before rubbing his eyes once more.

"I'm not dreaming am I?" He murmured to himself. He slapped a hand over his face before laying back down on the makeshift bed he had made on the floor, choosing to ignore you.

At first, it was fine. You weren't bothering him so he let the strange encounter slide. He nearly jumped up, startled when he thought he heard you speak his name.

"Buck.... Hungr–...." You murmured softly from above.

Bucky immediately stood up as quietly as he could before leaning over to look at you.

Are they sleep talking?

A few incoherent words escaped your lips, eyes still closed. Out of nowhere, your stomach growled. Bucky had to hold his laughter in order to not wake you.

How cute. He thought to himself before immediately shaking the intrusive thoughts away.

Deciding to let you be, he made himself comfortable on the floor once more — strangely finding your quirks balming to make him doze off. For once in a long time, Bucky was able to rest with a small smile etched on his face.

The second your eyes flutter open the next morning, you were greeted with a shirtless Bucky talking to someone on the room's phone. It took you a few more seconds before realising where you woke up. You looked down in a flash, sighing in relief when you saw that you were fully clothed.

"Did you carry me here as a prank?" You accused him almost instantly, perplexed at how you no longer was on the initial bed you slept in.

"I believe there's something you should be informed of..." He said almost grimly, his eyes casted down to the floor, shoulders hunching.

You gulped, fearing the worst, hand ready to smack the living day out of him if he attempted anything 'funny'.

"You don't only snore. You talk in your sleep and walk too."

At the disclosure, your jaw dropped.

"Wha-What?!" You replied in disbelief.

Bucky only nodded to confirm his earlier statement with an infuriating smile.

"I also ordered us some room service. I am sure my ears picked up on a certain someone who went to bed with an empty stomach," He added with an impish grin.

As if on cue, your stomach growled.

"Wow..." You scoffed playfully, feigning annoyance.

"You're lucky I'm in a kinda good mood," You pointed your index finger at him, flipping him off jokingly with an eye roll.

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