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destinygoldenstar · 17 hours

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Ninjago Dragons Rising Season 2 - Is It Good Or Nah?

So, I'm late to the party, aren't I?

Well I've had so much work that I think I'm having an existential crisis. So I had to wait till I had a free day to watch this season because I wanted to watch it with my GF.

We got to Episode 6, and then what did my boss do?

Slap me in the face with long work hours several days of the week.

I feel like I'm in a spiral of work after work after work with no purpose to life besides failure cause I can't trust myself to be capable at anything-

ANYWAY. We finished it now.

You know what the insane part about the season is? That it got the show trending on Tumblr.

That's an INSANE level of hype right there.

So I seriously had to ask myself "What the actual f**k happened in the show that caused THIS much hype?!"

So... here are my thoughts on the season.

SPOILER WARNING

Okay, so this may be a factor of my judgement, but due to my schedule, I was forced to watch only 6 Episodes one day, and then the last 4 Episodes today. Keep that in mind.

When it came to the first half of the season, was it good?

Yes. Obviously.

Was it living up to the insane level of hype?

Uh... not really for me??

Now, don't take that as a negative. This season is still REALLY good.

After the first season took awhile to get started as it needed to set up its characters and this new world, it makes sense for this season to throw the punches immediately.

The season gets started with its main plot right away with Ras immediately putting his plan into action, and by Episode 2, it's very clear the threat level he opposes and it's believable that we should be intimidated by what he wants.

Even though in Episode 2's fight, while AMAZINGLY choreographed, I was just screaming at the screen "HIT THE PERSON HOLDING THE GONG."

Like seriously, more than one of the characters in this fight can use projectiles with their powers AND they have a blaster in the Bounty, and the show never says that Ras has some sort of armor defense preventing him from getting blasted. He's literally standing out in the open. And the gong is clearly what's giving Cinder power. So HIT THE PERSON WITH THE GONG.

GOSH.

Anyway, that's not important. What's important is that this season's fight choreo is genuinely AMAZING. I am obsessed with the way the camera moves with the characters in these fights you have no idea. I was genuinely blown away by the last episode's fight in particular. But more on the ending later.

What also shocked me was how BRUTAL some of the stuff that happens here is, which caught me off guard.

I mean, Episode 2 has Euphrasia getting ambushed and crashed off the Cloud Kingdom with clear injuries, and Wyldfyre getting her leg SHATTERED. Like, WHAT?! HOW OFTEN DOES THAT HAPPEN?!! (Even though the latter's healing was unrealistic. Like, it would realistically take months for an injury like that to heal. Not a critique, just saying.)

Ras body slams Jordanna at one point. He puts Arin in a CHOKEHOLD. And also beats him up so brutally... like OMG this guy does not mess around.

The Fear Cave Trial also REALLY got me tripping. Not only was it such a visually appealing moment, but it also, as the same suggests, showed several character psyches that were insane.

Except Kai for some reason. That's gonna drive me NUTS until I get an answer. WHAT DID HE SEE-?!

Then we get to the dragon mentors, and...

Yeah the season kinda loses me in the middle.

Don't get me wrong, I love the character bits here as much as anyone. But with how dyer they made the threat of Ras before, Ras and his forces take a backseat in the middle portion of the season and we're mostly just sitting at these training grounds talking. And for four episodes of it? It's a little grating, even if it is important.

The middle is mostly where most of my issues with the season stand. And here's where I get all my negatives out of the way:

Like I said, because this season is so long, there's an awkward pause in the conflict on the dragons plotline to learn this Rising Dragon Technique. Which I wouldn't mind if it wasn't FOUR EPISODES of it.

With the exception of the attack at the Land of Lost Things ONCE, Ras's army doesn't go after the ninja at all. I can kinda get the dragons group since they didn't have Bonzle, but he has to know that they ARE a threat, right? They're obviously trying to figure out how to stop you.

And even with the group that has Bonzle, what they NEED, the forces that go after that group is the Administration and the one off magician man villain, the former really didn't need to be in this season even if it was for a compelling Jay cameo, and the latter has overstayed his welcome at this point and I just rolled my eyes when he showed up on screen.

I'm all for Cole being a badass as much as the next guy, but WHY this magician man, who at this point, is so disconnected with the main antagonistic forces that he serves no purpose?

Why not, I don't know, use this screen time instead to explain what in the world happened with Cole when he left?

Seriously, the first season had this huge cliffhanger with Cole's character and him going after Wu's ghost. I wonder what's gonna happen to him and what he's gonna find out-

Oh. He's just back.

That to me is a huge disappointment. What was the point of him leaving the Lost Family in the first place if this journey was basically nothing? He doesn't even talk about it! COME ON NOW.

Also I think Zane should get slay pass on the Administration guy that called him equipment. What do y'all think?

I don't like Egot. Or whatever his name was. He's very condescending and cryptic and talks down to his only hope of the world being saved. But I think I'm supposed to dislike him for it, and there's gonna be more of his characterization revealed later, so don't take this one as a critique. The female one is great though.

The sorceress lady was... a choice in the narrative. My one critique for the ending was the potion shenanigans. Not because they were bad, but because they just felt so out of place among everything else. Like, "Oh, this finale is too dark and intense! We need to occasionally cut to wacky shenanigans with this sorceress's magic to prevent kids from feeling too much dread!"

I don't know, for me, I would've placed this stuff with the Administration instead, and instead have the group fight Jordanna, lose, and have her get away and flow that to Arin getting to her. Especially since the Administration posed such little threat to them and they even say such.

(I also have a theory that this sorceress is Wyldfyre's birth mom. I have no evidence to back this up besides "They both have red hair and similar facial structure")

With Cloud Kingdom getting taken over and Euphrasia captured, I thought she would have more of a role to play in this since this is, you know, her HOME and she's their guardian.

But nope. She does next to nothing up until the very end and plays prisoner and waits for the ninja to save her.

For gosh sake girl, you're the master of wind. FLY.

And finally, my last critique, Cinder.

Yeah I'm sorry, I'm not buying this character so far. Not that I don't think he'll have anything to do in the second part, but for how threatening he was in Episode 2, that threat level kinda vanishes in the middle and only comes back at the end. He does next to nothing and we learn nothing about him other than "He likes power". Jordanna is probably more unlikeable, but at least she has conflict going on with Ras and her magic, and she still serves more of a role in the plan besides being a foot soldier.

And... yep. That's all my critiques for this season. Which all seem pretty minor.

You know what this season is real good at? Characters.

As though that wasn't obvious already.

I did NOT expect Bonzle to play any major role at all, I thought she was just gonna be the dry and cynical side character. But no. She has a history. She has a life. She has emotions. All of which REALLY shine through at the end when you hear her voice have more range in it. The VA killed it. I ended up feeling so bad for her.

Especially considering what happens to her.

They're also not even hiding it anymore with Geo x Cole. They're just NOT. I love them and I hope we see more of their relationship in the future.

I genuinely don't understand the critique of "Geo is so selfish referring to him as Cole's family when it's obvious Cole has other people in his life."

Well no shit, you ever heard of a character flaw?

But it's also a completely understandable flaw. You guys aren't forgetting the part where Geo was abandoned for being a mixed race, right? Of course he's gonna cling to someone as compassionate and encouraging as Cole.

The Jay cameo was nice. I expect him to play no role in this season, but it's really compelling what they showed and I was satisfied with it.

Lloyd's conflict was handled very well in my opinion.

What's it called when it's PTSD, but it's about future events rather than past events? Foresight Traumatic Stress Disorder? FTSD? Yeah let's go with that.

For a kids show that glosses over trauma, (That's not a Ninjago problem, that's a kids show problem), it was really refreshing for them to not do that for once. It's actually explored and talked about and Lloyd is given advice on how to cope with it, and he freezes up in panic attacks when these visions happen and-THANK YOU. THANK YOU FOR NOT IGNORING HOW HARD SOMETHING LIKE THIS IS.

Seriously, as someone who is going through stuff like this, minus the magic element, it spoke to me a lot. It really shows that this show grew up with me, and I both love and hate that.

I do think this sort of arc is going to hit hard for adults much more than kids.

Are kids constantly terrified of the future and getting paralyzed with these fears and finding it difficult to cope with the traumas that is time and human life?

No?

Kai is also a standout in this, especially towards the end. This is by far the best Kai has been in a long time in terms of quality. I love how one of his most significant flaws gets addressed here, that being his overreliance on himself and his own abilities over the others, who he feels responsible to protect.

And the way he grasps with that and learns to let loose like he did as a child back in the old days through what he loves the most, that being his family. And the flashbacks with him and his sister. And the whole sequence of him learning Rising Dragon - AUGH ITS SO GOOD.

How poetic is it that the character most devoted to family since childhood is only cocky and angry because of his own desire to be the one with power to keep them safe, gets power by letting that go, being a kid again, and joining the same roots as his own family?

AND THEN HE GIVES UP HIS LIFE FOR THEM-

And finally, Arin.

Oh you poor sweet, sweet child.

First of all, yes, I am completely subscribed to the theory that the show is building up Arin turning on the ninja and becoming a villain. It's all there. It all fits. The amount of times they say how sweet he is as though that's gonna get lost. The dragons, the creators of the world, the gods basically, telling him he's not good enough. Ras confronting him. Sora's stunt even after she's been the most encouraging of him, like the BETRAYAL there. It's all there. And I will be posting my theory scenario on this don't you worry.

BUT, I don't think that's the route they're gonna go. Kids show and all of that. They wouldn't do that to one of their main characters. Unless you're Star Wars. At most I think Arin will be tempted by Ras's master's power in an episode and even do it, but then with the power of love and friendship, it'll get fixed.

So instead I'd rather say that Arin, by far, has the BEST power crisis arc of the entire show so far.

I LOVE that he doesn't get powers. That's something the original show would've done. I LOVE that he doesn't figure anything out in the end and his inner doubts get proven correct. That's something the original show would not have the guts to do.

I liked Arin in the first season, but he didn't interest me too much. Mostly because Sora had the lion share of focus in the first season. Here though? He might just take the crown for THE most relatable character. And I both love and hate it so much.

Like, seeing everyone else succeed in mastery while you can't even figure out your own thing. You get told you have a natural talent and a lot of potential and that you're good at a lot of things, only for that to be put to the test in the real world and you end up letting everyone down. Even when your loved ones encourage you that you are good enough and you're special in your own way, you can't get those voices out of your head and you mess up again and again and again to try and meet the world's expectations. Then those in charge tell you you're not good enough and wasted potential. Then you try everything out in the real world anyway and you FAIL, and those that doubt you and your own insecurities get proven correct as you're left a broken mess of a young child who doesn't know what the hell they're doing-

I'M IN THIS SHOW AND I DON'T LIKE IT.

I probably love Sora more as a character, but I will admit I grasp towards Arin more right now. Sora's a great trans allegory in a world that hates trans people. But I'm not trans so I relate to it a bit less. Arin's a great autistic allegory in a world that doesn't know how to help autistic people. And I am autistic so I relate to it more. That's just a me situation.

I am so invested in where Arin's story goes from here. Evil or not.

So yeah, the season was good, but didn't completely live up to the insane hype, which, to be fair, is a high bar.

UNTIL THE LAST FOUR EPISODES.

And then all of a sudden, I AM SHOCKED AND SHAKEN TO MY CORE.

These last four episodes are an absolute emotional roller coaster that left me shaking and screaming the whole time.

I actually SCREAMED at multiple occasions.

I actually screamed so many times watching this that I am now HOARSE.

THAT'S how hard it hit me.

The story goes from 0 to 100 the moment the Blood Moon shows up. Which was what the whole season was building up to. And it did NOT disappoint.

The race to try and protect Bonzle. The intense visions and paralysis Lloyd suffers from. Ras and the army coming back to the plot to be absolute powerhouses. The last episode of DREAD the entire time to desperately try to stop this ritual.

HUMAN SACRIFICES?! AM I WATCHING A KIDS SHOW RIGHT NOW?!?!

I was begging for Arin to succeed at getting Bonzle to safety, even though I knew he stood no chance against Ras. "Come on Arin! You got this!! YOU GOT THIS, SWEETIE!!"

And then Ras just goes to TOWN on the poor boy and taunts his utter failure, which HURTS SO BAD MAN.

The entire fight with the army, Cinder, and Ras. The destruction of the mechs which knocks them unconscious for a bit. Kai figuring out Rising Dragon again when his family gets put in danger. The way Nya avenges her brother afterwards.

When Bonzle was getting morphed back into spell form, BEGGING, I was begging too.

But they still do it!

And KAI?!?!

I couldn't even process what happened other than me screaming. From the moment Ras alluded to sacrificing Kai against his consent, I was screaming "NO. DON'T DO IT."

AND THEN THEY SACRIFICE HIM.

LIKE HOLY GOSH THIS FINALE DID NOT MESS AROUND.

I predicted a while back, in the first season actually, that Kai was gonna get sacrificed at some point. Who's laughing now? I DID NOT WANT TO BE RIGHT.

Like, usually in Ninjago the character would be willing to sacrifice themselves for the others. But here? This is without Kai's consent at all. Ras might as well have killed him right here.

It definitely felt that way with the way the others react and BEG for his safety. The way Nya avenges him.

And Kai giving up his shot at escape for the sake of his family? BRO. WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

It hurts even more when you realize that when the Merge happened, Lloyd was ALONE thinking only he survived. He only gained hope again because of his reunion with Kai. His beloved surrogate brother!

AND NOW HE'S GONE.

NYA AND LLOYD LOST THEIR BROTHER.

WYLDFYRE LOST HER SURROGATE FATHER.

THEY THINK HE'S BASICALLY DEAD.

BRO. THAT'S SOUL CRUSHING.

And then Sora?! Why you gotta betray Arin like that?!

The most encouraging friend towards Arin, the person who held onto hope and praises for him the most, betrays that hope and doesn't trust him enough to get the winning blow himself. Then LIES about it.

GIRL. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

That's going to be SO compelling once that gets outed. Like, morally, that was messed up and she was definitely in the wrong, BUT it led to the best possible outcome for them at the moment. They WON because she did NOT believe in Arin's abilities. Which only proves that the doubts about Arin's said abilities are correct.

And I have a gut feeling she's gonna learn Spinjitsu on top of that. And once that happens... double ouch.

Again, Evil Arin Theory.

I really hate to say it, but this reminds way too much of Arcane. If you know what I'm talking about.

I am totally imagining a situation similar to that in my head, that being a rescue mission for Kai, they decide to leave Arin out of it because of the lack of faith in him, he tags along anyway and he ruins their plan and Kai stays trapped there, Lloyd and Sora lash out on him for it, and before they can apologize they get thrusted back by something and Ras and Ras's master find Arin and take him in-

Again, I'll make a post about that.

The finale was by far the best part of this season. It has been a long time since Ninjago has made me HOARSE from being too invested.

That has not happened to me since Sons of Garmadon.

Because, yeah, I actually have NO IDEA where any of this is headed. How are they gonna save Kai and Bonzle? Why did some of Lloyd's visions not come true? What in the world is going on with Ras? Will the Administration help with that? Will the source dragons help with that?

What I probably do know is that Part 2 of this season is going to turn this into the best Ninjago Product since Tournament of Elements. Maybe even top it depending on my rewatches if my problems are still problems.

So... yeah. Good or Nah? Good. Obviously.

The hype is a little overblown to me, but it still deserves the hype.

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tklpilled · 2 years

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i think i like dazai. slightly less after today!

#/j because He Wasnt Serious He Cant Be Right #wait okay spoilers im gonna talk about this as someone who has never read the manga except for that scene today #my knowledge is limited!#but #dazai is genuinely nice to chuuya??#yes he left chuuya alone after the lovecraft fight but tbf he folded up his clothes for him /lh #‘ive thought of many ways to kill chuuya’ as if you havent saved his life? multiple times? willingly?#dazai could literally just leave him if he wanted him dead. there would be nothing else keeping him alive #and being dazai i dont think he’d have a problem with killing someone he hates or leaving them to die #so clearly he doesn’t hate chuuya. and chuuya canonically doesnt hate him either but thats beside the point #when chuuya is using corruption are the most obvious times #but also in dead apple where he says something like ‘i’d rather not help you fight your ability’ while protecting him from the fog #no one said you had to help him! you could just get up and leave!#so i doubt he’s actually leaving chuuya to die this time when he had the chance many other times #not only that but he was totally lying when he said they never had any connection #because immediately before that it showed the moments where they clearly Did #and i dont think dazai is oblivious enough to not realise that #or maybe he is. i dont know #but i don’t think so. how could he go through whatever tf happened in dead apple and not realise they have Something /lh #theyre literally willing to put their lives in the others hands without hesitation #kaz speaks

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shun-nie · 9 months

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SatoSugu x reader

=>They can't reach you while you're on a mission.

—>a little angst to fluff

!!!!!swearing, gn!reader, mentions of death!!!!!

"Why did Yaga-Sensei gave the mission to Y/N anyway?" Satoru said as he frowned, you left early this morning and still didn't came back.

"Because Y/N always finishes their work smoothly, they always thinks logically and moves smart in missions." Suguru replies, he missed you too. He was also annoyed that Yaga-Sensei gave the mission to you but it was understandable why he did that. Suguru sighs, he and Satoru were sitting on a bench, sulking beacuse you're not here.

"I missed Y/N, Suguru. Why haven't they come back yet? The mission shouldn't be too hard for them right?" Satoru whined, it was so boring without you. And you always finished the missions quickly, plus you would call them if you were going to be late. Suguru frowned, what if something had happened to you? Sure you were strong and smart (pretty too) but anything could happen right?

Suguru immediately took his phone out of his pocket, went into his contacts and tapped your name. Satoru stopped whining and turned his gaze to Suguru, watching him get impatient as you didn't pick up. Suguru called you for the second time, after ringing a few times, he heard the message "the person you are calling cannot be reached at the moment, please try again later". Suguru looked at the phone screen, why weren't you picking up?

"They usually pick up the phone even if they're busy..." Satoru said quietly, he was thinking the worst scenario. Did you got hurt? Oh god. What if you did?

Suguru got up from the bench and looked at Satoru, Satoru undertood what he meant even if he didn't say anything. He stood up as well, they both walked off to find Yaga.

[meanwhile]

"Fuck, this shit hurts." you said as you clenched your fists, pressing a cloth over the bleeding wound. The mission went smoothly, there was two 1st grade curses. You got rid of them but then a special grade showed up, and there was a little girl in its hands. You had to save the child first, you did save the child and killed off the special grade but you were injured badly.

"Y-Y/N-san, please don't-please don't die!!!" the little girl cried out, tears running down her face. You panicked a little but calmed down.

"Hey, I won't die. Don't worry. I'm one of the strongests, y'know?" you grinned, you actually felt like shit and your head was hurting, there was a ringing in your ears, your phone was broken, you were bleeding from multiple spots. 'Fuck, I'll probably die.' you thought, guilty that you lied to the little girl.

"W-what do we do?! You'll die!!!" the little girl cried even louder, hugging your body close. Not wanting to let go. You sighed and pat her head, thinking of a way out.

"Say, what's your name?" you asked gently.

"Y-Yume..."

"Yume, that's a pretty name. Just like you." You said and smiled, Yume wiped her tears. Looking at you.

"Yume, can you find me a long stick?"

[...]

"Sensei, we have to look for them!! Let us leave!!

"I said no, Satoru. Y/N is strong, no need to worry about them."

Satoru clenches his teeth, clearly angry. Yaga refused to tell where you are and both Satoru and Suguru were worried about your safety. Sure, you were strong. There is no doubt in that, but you were still human and not an immortal. You could've die while they were sitting on a bench doing literally nothing. Suguru frowned at the idea of you dying alone, he wouldn't want that. You didn't deserve that.

Yaga couldn't reach you too, you didn't pick up his calls either. He was worried too, but he knew you were strong and believed that you would manage to get the work done.

"Sensei, we know Y/N is strong. But that doesn't change the fact they can get hurt." Suguru said, trying to remain calm. Yaga looked at them and opened his mouth to talk but Haibara opened the door harshly, he had a scared look on his face. Satoru and Suguru shared a look before looking at Haibara, Yaga was about to scold him for not knocking but he got silent as his eyes widened at Haibara's words.

"SENSEI!!! Y/N-SAN CAME INJURED, THEY'RE NOT BREATHING!!!!"

[...]

"..-/N...!"

".Y/-....!"

"Y/N!!"

"..The hell do you want? Don't scream in my ear you dumb fuck..." you said with a tired tone and opened your eyes slowly. Blinking multiple times to adjust the lights.

You saw 2 familiar faces when you opened your eyes, then you sense that there are 3 people in the room. All the eyes on you.

"Glad to see you're the same even if you came back from death." you heard Shoko's voice, she sound tired. And her voice was hoarse, did she cry?

You tried to process what had happened for a few seconds, and when you remembered what had happened, you immediately sat up in bed. Your head, throbbing as you did so. Suguru and Satoru were looking at you with concerns, Satoru probably cried as his eyes were red. Oh. Oh shit.

"Yume...Where is Yume? Is she okay?" You asked quickly, turning your gaze to Shoko, she sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, there was not even a scratch on her body. She's sleeping in your room." Shoko said and got silent for a moment before talking again.

"You almost died and you're not even worried about yourself..?" Shoko said quietly. You sighed and let Suguru lay you down on the bed.

"I'm sorry. The special grade just showed up, I couldn't just left Yume to it's hands." you replied quietly, "Sorry..." You said again. Suguru kissed your forehead, he was holding your hand as your other hand was being held by Satoru. Shoko walked over to your bed and kissed your cheek, it hurted to see you in this position.

"Just rest, yeah? Don't worry much about it." she said and walked towards the door, leaving the room to smoke her stress off. You were left with Satoru and Suguru, Satoru was resting his head on your stomach as he played with your fingers. Suguru was stroking you hand with his thumb, probably think of which words he should say.

"Satoru, Suguru. I'm sorry I worried you both." You said, not looking at them. Satoru pulled his chair closer to your bed, kissing the side of your lip softly before grinning. Teasing you about how depressed you sound, you teased back telling he looks as depressed as you. Suguru watched you both and smiled to himself.

He was glad you didn't left them.

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ghost-with-a-teacup · 11 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝(𝐬)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader (Pre-Established Relationship)

Summary: Every so often, Miguel would simply disappear without a trace, getting lost in his own head. This time around you were determined to not let him be alone. Not on a day like today. (Hurt/Comfort)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of loss. A lil angsty but soft (you know me :3)

“Hey, where’s Miguel?” you ask Jess as you walk into the dining hall. “I haven’t seen him all day, I need to go over mission reports with him but he wasn’t even in the monitoring room.”

Jess only shrugs, grabbing a bottle of water.

“Haven’t seen him either, he does that sometimes you know. Just disappears for a little while, he’s never told me why,” she replies. “It’d do you good to leave him alone, he’s been on edge all week.”

You cringe slightly as you think back to Monday when he hurled a mission folder at the wall after a new recruit had messed up, he refused to talk to anyone but Lyla that day.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say with a small smile, but Jess only looks at you knowingly.

“No you won’t,” she eyes you up and down.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” you reply, walking off. “See you later, Jess!”

As you walk through the halls, you begin to wonder what could be up with the leader of the Spider Society. While the two of you weren’t the closest, he trusted you more than he did most people here. Granted a lot of them were new, hell, the society itself had only been created a few months ago so it made sense.

But still.

Pulling out your phone, you glance at the date; ‘June 11th’. All of a sudden your face falls as you recognize the significance of today.

When Miguel had first talked to you about the Spiderverse, and his mission to protect each and every multiverse and its canon events he had shown you the consequences of not ensuring everything progressed as it needed.

He had gotten so mad at you that day because you refused to follow his cause simply because he had told you to. It just didn’t make sense to you how a single event, a single choice could cause the elimination of an entire universe.

That’s when he showed you himself the consequences of those minute choices. You watched in horror as Lyla projected the downfall of the universe he had travelled to. How all those people simply…disappeared without a trace.

At the corner of the screen, a single date; 06/11/2020.

You had to find him.

Finding him was much easier said than done. Clearly, he wasn’t anywhere at HQ so you start looking around his universe, places he mentioned in passing, places you thought he might like. For a few hours you search to no avail, and before long the sun was beginning to set.

The tiredness was starting to settle into your bones. Maybe this was the universe telling you to back off, for your own good.

That was until out of the corner of your eye you see a single blue speck on the edge of the tallest building in Nueva York. Call it intuition, or maybe your spidey sense but the moment you spot it you knew it was him.

Immediately you begin making your way over, slinging across the city, building to building. You never got sick of this feeling; you couldn’t place a finger on what it was. Freedom? Maybe. All you knew was that as the wind whipped by, cities and skylines in your view, that was when you were at your happiest.

But before long you begin to falter.

What would you even say to him? What could you say? ‘Oh hey, sorry about your old universe. Wanna talk about it?’ Miguel wasn’t one to just talk, especially about something as vulnerable as how he was feeling.

But…he also didn’t deserve to be alone either.

Reaching the top of the building, you huff slightly as you try to catch your breath (superhuman powers be damned, you try scaling a building).

There at the top, you see his broad shoulders hunched over, curled in on himself as his legs dangle off the side of the ledge. Then his back straightens as he senses you, whirling around with an irritated expression on his face.

“What are you doing here,” he says sharply, eyes narrowed in your direction. You have to fight the urge to shrink down in your spot under his gaze. “The whole point of someone disappearing without a word is usually because they want to be alone.”

“Or they just don’t know how to ask for help, so instead they wallow in their pain and force themselves to be alone because they think they can’t depend on anyone else but themselves,” you counter.

He only scoffs, turning away from you.

“I didn’t ask for a psychoanalysis, go be a therapist to someone who actually wants one,” he says, but you both knew the truth; he would rather die than depend on anyone but himself.

“I’m just saying,” you mutter, sitting down by his side much to his dismay. “I mean, I would know.” And it was true, you did. Always a listener to everyone else’s problems, the last thing you wanted to be was a burden. So before you could be, you slinked away to hide in the comfort of yourself.

He doesn’t say anything to that, opting to continue looking down at the city below. Softly, you sigh.

“I…I think I know why you’re here,” you say hesitantly, and immediately he visibly tenses before glaring at you.

“You don’t know anything,” he says lowly, daring you to say anything more, and despite everything in you screaming to turn away, to stop now, you continued.

“We’ve all gone through loss here, Miguel…” you whisper. “I understand.”

“You have no idea what loss is,” he says sharply, talons digging into the edge of the roof. “To watch as an entire world, an entire universe fall apart in the palm of your hand.” His voice cracks almost imperceptibly at that, but you notice. You always do.

“You have no idea what it’s like to see the ones you love most disintegrate because of your own actions, so you don’t get to say anything,” he seethes, his blood-red eyes darkened.

“You know damn fucking well we’ve all lost people Miguel, some more than others but the pain of loss accompanies all of us,” you say, feeling the anger rise in you as he blatantly brushes off everything you and the rest of the Spider Society of gone through. What everyone had to go to, to follow the canon he valued so greatly. But you don’t let it reach the edge, instead, you take a deep breath.

“Look, what I’ve been trying to say is that it's difficult to carry the weight of the world, let alone the weight of millions upon millions of multiverses. All I’m saying is that you don’t always have to do it alone,” you finish softly.

Hesitantly, you reach out for his hand with your own, but pull it back at the last second when he glances down at it.

Letting out a sigh, you continue.

“You don’t always have to keep it to yourself y’know,” you urge gently. “I may not have the power to bring them back, or the solutions to your problems, but I am always here to listen. As to whether you are willing to share, well, that’s up to you.”

For a moment he doesn’t say anything, instead only watching the sun as it sets on the horizon. Then, he seems to contemplate something for a split second before he leans his head on yours.

“I know,” he says quietly, and you feel your heart skip a beat, growing steadily in rhythm as something unfamiliar blooms in you.

“…thank you,” he says, pausing as though he was going to say something more but decides against it. Instead, he only looks into your eyes for a moment as you look into his.

What you find are the unsaid words that someday, he might be able to say.

“Let’s get back to base.”

A/N: Hi! Back again, sorry this is so different from my past two Miguel works, but I came up with this idea at work (oops) and had to get it down on paper. Hope you enjoyed~ (And don't worry, more fluff is coming soon :3)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderverse #marvel

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meggtheegg · 6 months

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FNAF Movie Theory...

I'm pretty sure there's still one major plot twist in the universe of the movie that's been set up for a sequel but hasn't actually happened yet. Heavy spoilers under the cut:

After watching the movie in theaters and then revisiting a few scenes on Peacock, I'm still kind of convinced that Mike Schmidt is Michael Afton.

Here's my reasoning. A lot of the characters spend time acting like they know something the audience/other characters don't, and those things are...mostly resolved. But some of them just...kind of aren't.

The main thing that sticks out to me is William's whole storyline. Starting with the scene where he offers Mike the job, his behavior is almost explained by the movie's logic. He sees Mike's name, seems...kind of deeply upset, looks at him very closely, stands to get coffee, and has a moment of visible internal conflict. Then he instantly offers him the Freddy's job. The way the movie frames this, it seems to be saying that he recognized the name of one of his victims, realized this was the kid's brother, and decided to kill him right then and there. Which is passable as an explanation, but it has a lot of holes, if you look deeper.

Why would William so instantly recognize a fairly common last name as the brother of some kid he killed that wasn't even anywhere near Freddy's? Why did he kidnap/kill Garrett in the first place, in some random forest in Nebraska? Why did he see the name on the file, then immediately stop and examine Mike's face so closely, when Mike's memories/dreams pretty clearly show that they never saw each others' faces when Garrett was taken? Why did he send Vanessa to "keep Mike in the dark" if he purposely gave him the job to get him killed? Why not have the animatronics kill him right away? He didn't know that Mike was searching for the man who took his brother, and while he could have maybe guessed he was still actively haunted by what happened based on Mike beating up a guy that he thought was kidnapping someone, it still feels like a weird choice to go and hire him, then just have him do the job with no issue for a few days.

As for Vanessa, we see that she's been cleaning up William's messes for years. Why is Mike the one she changes her mind and stands up to her father for? There's no implied romance between the two and no particularly meaningful connection beyond them both having family issues. I guess she cares about Abby because she's a kid, but kids getting hurt clearly never stopped her from helping her father before.

And, on a more meta level, this is Scott and his storytelling style we're talking about. The man puts plot twists inside of plot twists and everything always ties back into the Aftons, somehow.

So, here's my theory: I think that Mike is William's kid, but Mike's mom left Afton when he was young and remarried the man that Mike thinks is his father.

It seems convoluted and maybe cliche, but if it's true, then suddenly there's an answer to all of those questions. "Michael Schmidt" isn't exactly an eye-catching name, unless you had a kid named Michael and your ex-wife married a guy with the last name Schmidt. Garrett's kidnapping, then, becomes an act of intentional, petty revenge rather than an extremely random coincidence. Giving Mike the job and sending in Vanessa suddenly becomes about piecing together how much he knows and figuring out if he's worth trying to reconnect with or is just a threat that needs to be killed. (It feels worth noting that William is as far as I can remember the only person to call him Michael in the whole film. He also very pointedly never says "Schmidt" until he's decided to kill Mike and suddenly announces his full name out loud. If he went by Michael as a little kid, that is what William would default to calling him, but if he took the new husband's last name, that would be like like salt in the wound that he wouldn't want to voice. By finally saying it out loud, it feels like he's making the decision to fully separate himself from Mike.)

As for Vanessa, if Mike is her brother, it makes sense that he would be the person she'd turn against William to save. It would be weird for her not to tell him, but she could also be trying to protect him, in some way. There's never any mention of her mother, and it seems like it's just been her and William for a long time. Also, ending the movie with her in a coma feels like a strange narrative choice, but it makes sense if she knows information that's purposely being kept hidden for the sequel.

Of course, it could just be that the movie has kind of messy writing and I'm trying to fix it because I want there to be a deeper reason for it. Maybe there is no Michael Afton in the movies, or maybe he's off chilling and doing his own thing somewhere and we'll see him in the sequel. Only time will tell.

#fnaf movie #fnaf movie spoilers #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy's spoilers #michael afton #mike schmidt

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sl-ut · 3 months

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like real people do

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

description: abby is one hundred percent, totally, and completely straight. that is, until she meets y/n.

warnings: UNEDITED, swearing, slight hints of nsfw, alcohol consumption, a hint of homophobia? (not really but just in case)

words: 5.9K

date posted: 08/02/24

The years had not been kind to Abby. By the time that she and her friends were celebrating her twenty-first birthday, the woman had suffered many losses; the death of her mother at a young age, her father’s murder a few years back, and most recently, her breakup with Owen. She was quick to discover that the universe was not exactly on her side.

From her perspective, Owen was not just a boyfriend. Of course, he was hardly even that at most times, but he also represented the time in her life where everything was good; Salt Lake City, spending time in the woods with him and her dad, playing stupid little games to pass the time with him, Manny, and Mel…he reminded her of when everything was easier. She sometimes felt guilty for this, considering that she sometimes couldn’t tell whether her emotional attachment to him was because of how much she cared for him or for the impossible standards she’s always held him to.

Seattle represented a new beginning for her and her friends. They were able to find a new community, stay together, and live a semi-normal life that even the Fireflies were unable to offer them. Things were good there, people generally liked her, and she was quickly making her way up the ranks as one of the top WLF soldiers, though there were certainly some downsides. At the WLF compound, she began to see things in a new light; She was able to focus on herself for once, do the things that she wanted and branch out more than before. She was no longer limited to the small world of the few Fireflies who actually made it out of Salt Lake City.

It’s for this reason that she holds herself at least somewhat accountable for how things ended with Owen. Of course, she didn’t blame herself for his infidelity, nor for him choosing to do so with one of her closest friends, but she knew that it was her distance that caused the rift to form between them. She felt betrayed by them, obviously, but as time passed, it seemed clear to her that she was more hurt by the fact that it was her two closest confidants who had caused the pain, not the fact that Owen and Mel had been sleeping together for months before she and Owen called it quits.

Her saving grace during this period of her life came in the form of someone she would later consider her best friend, despite how offended Manny gets each time she calls her that. Her first interaction with Y/n was the moment that she knew she needed to have her in her life, one way or another.

She hadn’t noticed her right away, but who would? Amidst the thunderous crowd of the cafeteria just before lunch, it would be nearly impossible to notice anyone who she wasn’t directly looking for, which in a way, is how Abby noticed her to begin with. Manny was actually the one to sniff her out first, as he so often did with pretty girls, his midnight black hair standing out against the white fluorescent lighting. She beelined for him, an annoyed expression crossing her features as she figured out the reason why he’d been late for patrol.

“Manny!” She barked, “How many times do I have to drag your ass to the gate before you actually show up on ti–”

Her attention was immediately caught by the figure sitting across the table from him, eyes falling on a young woman with a look of shock on her face, clearly concerned by the large woman who’d nearly pulled Manny out of his seat with only one hand.

“Abby!” He greeted, doing his best to brush it off, “I was just on my way to meet you when I got distracted by this one,” He winked at the girl with a laugh, “Don’t blame me, it’s entirely her fault. Cierto, hermosa?”

Every engorged muscle in Abby’s body had to hold her back from physically gagging at his obnoxious charm, but she was a bit relieved to see that the girl did not seem to be falling for it so easily.

“Whatever,” the blonde shook her head, trying to suppress any of the nerves that seemed to have wormed their way into her bloodstream under the girl’s stare, “We’re late, and I’m not taking anymore shit from Isaac over you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He shrugged, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as he began to head towards the door, offering a short goodbye to the girl before jogging to catch up with the blonde, who’d sped off in an attempt to get herself away from the girl.

“Cute, right?” He asked, a knowing smirk on his lips.

She shrugged, “Yeah, your standards seem to be on the rise, finally. What ever happened to the medic–what was her name again? Ginger?”

“Me and Y/n? In my dreams, sure,” He stared at her with a raised brow, “I’m not exactly…her type.”

Something clicked in her mind, and made the twisting feeling in her gut worsen. Goosebumps prickled at her skin as she thought back on the roaming stare of the girl in the cafeteria–Y/n, as Manny had called her. Had she been checking Abby out? And why did that idea excite her so much?

“Oh,” she hummed.

“You, however… you definitely were. Did you see the way she was looking at you? Like she wanted you to–”

“Shut up, would you?” She sneered, “I’m not–that’s not–”

“I know,” he sighed, though a knowing look crossed his features, “I know.”

A few days had passed before Abby had run into Y/n again, only this time, it was a much more pleasant interaction. Abby had been spending a lot of time in the library, especially since her breakup with Owen and even ended up sleeping there some nights when Manny took the liberty of reserving the room for himself and whatever girl he was dating at the time. She found some peace there, burying her nose into random books from before the outbreak and pretending that, for just a few minutes, she isn’t just the top scar killer in the WLF. There was hardly ever anyone else there, which was a definite plus; She still had a long way to go before she’d be used to all the attention she gets around the arena. This day in particular. though, someone else occupied her usual seat in the furthest corner, by the window.

She jumped in surprise at the sight of another person in her place, holding her palm to her chest to hold in any noise that may have emitted from her throat. The girl raised her head to look over the thick spine of the hardcover book she was reading, surprise evident on her own face as well.

“Sorry,” Abby choked out, “I just wasn’t expecting…I’m usually the only one here.”

“Oh,” Y/n sat up straighter, laying her book page-down on the table in front of her, “Yeah, I usually take the book back to my room, but my roommate is a little…busy at the moment.”

Abby snorted, “I get what you mean. Mine too.”

There was a beat of silence before Y/n chimed in again, “What are you reading?”

Abby glanced down at the book in her hand, eyes scanning over the faded words on the cover. She actually hadn’t known what book she’d taken off the shelf, just slowly making her way through every book in the library, “Uh, Jane Air–Eyre. First one I grabbed.”

“That’s a good one,” Y/n nodded, “One of the classics, I think they used to call them.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Abby mentally kicked herself, of course she would completely blank in front of the girl she’d been thinking about all week (but she was still, totally not into her). “Uh, what about you?”

Y/n smiled, “A Complete History of the Western World. Call me nostalgic, but I like learning about how things were before.”

“Me too,” Abby smiles, “In a way, it’s kinda comforting to see that this isn’t how things always were, you know?”

Y/n grinned, which quickly turned into a frown, “Sorry, I didn’t even…I’m Y/n.”

Abby smiled tightly, cheeks burning red as she reached forward to accept the hand offered to her, “I’m–”

“Abby,” Y/n smiled bashfully, “I know. You’re Manny’s friend, and sort of a big deal around here.”

Abby shrugged, the red of her cheeks now stretching to reach the tips of her ears, “Yeah, that’s what everyone seems to say. Not sure if I really live up to that expectation, though.”

Y/n chuckled before glancing down at her cracked wrist watch, a wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows as she closed her book and stood up from her seat, “Sorry, not trying to run away from you or anything, just lost track of time. Talk to you later, Abby.”

The next few weeks passed with several more interactions between the pair, and Abby would actually consider Y/n to be a friend. They could often be found in the library together, or grabbing a bite to eat with one another and sometimes a few others. Manny often grumbled about Abby swooping in and stealing his friends, but he always seemed to be more than happy to see the two of them together. That strange feeling did not disappear, though, like Abby thought it would. In fact, it got considerably worse.

Instead of having a little bit of nerves around her, Abby was struggling to keep herself from constantly pulling her into her lap, or reaching out to hold her hand across the table, or to tell her how deeply in love with her she wa–except Abby is straight. She likes guys. She dated Owen, and she was deeply hurt by his betrayal, right?

That’s what she told herself. Each longing to touch Y/n was just her own loneliness talking, every time she wanted to be held, it was her basic human need for affection, not because she was romantically or sexually interested in another woman. In fact, she had a little bit of a crush on one of the guys she went on patrol with the other day, or so she told Y/n. She made an effort to make it abundantly clear to the girl that there would be no romantic relationship between them, and was relieved when Y/n didn’t seem to put off by it. She continued to hang out with her, and to invite her to different social events around the arena.

This one was different, though. Abby went, fully intending to spend the night by Y/n’s side, people watching and making fun of Manny as he struck out time and time again. She had arrived to the party with Nora, a bit of pep in her step as she slid into the common area, face falling as she immediately took notice of Y/n on the couch across the room, a soft smile on her face as she listened intently to whatever the girl next to her was saying, her arm curled loosely around Y/n’s shoulders.

Abby felt sick, almost giving in to the instinct to turn and run, and she is positive that if it hadn’t been for Nora being right behind her, she probably would have. She hesitantly stepped further into the room, glancing around awkwardly in hopes of finding someone to hide her from Y/n before she could catch her attention, though it only took a moment’s glance for Y/n to turn her head and shout, waving both Abby and Nora over to where she and the other girl were sitting.

The girl’s name was Samyah, and Abby decided on the spot that she hated her. She hated the way that she talked, the way she dressed, they way she smelled, the way that Y/n looked at her, and most of all, she hated the way that she held Y/n’s hand as she led her out of the common room, hooded eyes making it clear what was about to happen. But it didn’t really matter, because Abby is straight and this wasn’t going to last anymore than one night.

Except it did. Weeks later, Samyah was still very present in Y/n’s life. Abby cringed every time she had to witness them kiss, or touch each other in any way beyond what could be considered platonic. She prayed every night that something would happen, that Samyah would cheat or die out on patrol, anything to have her away from Y/n for more than a few hours at a time, but when it really happened, she couldn’t help but fear that she may have willed it into existence–Abby wasn’t a religious person, but this seemed to be a bit too on the nose for it to not have been divine intervention.

Y/n and Samyah had been hooking up for a few weeks when Y/n turned up at Abby’s room, cheeks glossy with tear stains and eyes burning red. Abby was quick to take her into her arms, ignoring the selfish part of her that was singing at the mere contact. She held her tightly, sitting her down on the edge of her bed and stroking the back of her head soothingly, waiting for her to tell her what had happened.

“Let me know when you’re ready to talk,” She had whispered into her hair before pressing a firm kiss there.

It was less than a moment later when a sharp sniff could be heard and Y/n’s watery voice began to retell what had taken place earlier that evening.

“Samyah has a boyfriend, apparently,” She wept, “She told me she isn’t gay, she just wanted to see what it was like.”

Abby’s entire body burned hot with anger, and then with embarrassment. What would Y/n think if she were to tell her that she’d been wondering the same thing? How would she be able to move forward knowing fully-well that she was no different from Samyah, someone who she had been condemning over the way that she treated Y/n?

But was it the same? Was it really? Since she had met Y/n, she hadn’t even glanced twice at Owen, let alone any other man. She was all she could think about, day and night, and yet she still couldn’t seem to come to terms with the fact her feelings for her might have been more than platonic. It wasn’t as if she were too ashamed or was actually against the idea of her dating another woman, she was just confused as to why these feelings hadn’t come up before. Sure, there were times where she thought Mel was the prettiest girl she’d ever seen, but that was back when there weren’t many other girls around (and she wasn’t screwing her Abby’s boyfriend), and there was once where she’d had a rather promiscuous dream about Nora, but nothing had ever evolved further than that.

These thoughts started to keep her up at night. She liked Y/n, she really did, but was it worth risking her friendship only for Abby to decide that she wasn’t gay at all? What if she was just curious? It was normal for people her age to be interested in exploring these things, only she was sort of stuck in a situation where she was unable to. She couldn’t go to Y/n for help with this, that much was blatantly obvious, but what about someone else? She tried to think of other girls she could go to for help, but there was no one who she could immediately think of that she could go to without also risking her friendship with Y/n; she’d been insistent early on in their friendship that she was not interested in women at all, especially when Y/n made it clear that she most certainly was, and more precisely, in Abby, so what would she think if she found out that Abby had slept with another woman after insisting that she wasn’t interested? That might be more dangerous than going to her for help.

It was getting harder to ignore, as well. Y/n was increasingly dependant on Abby for comfort for weeks after she ended things with Samyah, not that Abby minded, but it was growing more difficult not to hold her to her chest as they share a pillow every night, to not reach out and take her hand every time they walk side-by side, to not push her onto the bed every time she undresses in front of her, to pin her down and–

Then Y/n moved on. She was still quite upset, but she had decided that she wasn’t going to spend any more time dwelling on someone who obviously did not care about her, so she met Reagan. Abby didn’t hate Reagan the same way that she had with Samyah, she clearly liked Y/n and treated her as well as she could, considering that they were in the middle of the apocalypse. She was funny, and she fit in with the rest of their friends better than Abby would have liked; she wanted to hate her so much, but the only reason she could think of was purely out of selfishness, that being the fact that Y/n spending time with Reagan meant that she was not spending time with Abby, and after a few weeks of near constant contact with one another, Abby was sure she was going through withdrawals.

It all came to a head when Manny demanded that she take some time off of patrol. With Reagan always around, she had taken it upon herself to start accepting extra duties to avoid having to spend time with the group, and more specifically, Y/n. He’d made some arrangements and assigned someone else to her shift without even telling her, and all but dragged her down the hall and into the rec room. Y/n and Reagan had yet to arrive, but Abby knew that, if she was going to be forced to sit and watch Reagan practically hang off of the girl that she was probably in love with, she was gonna need a drink.

Abby wasn’t normally a big drinker. In her early days in the WLF, there had been a few times where she’d had more than she probably needed, but it also meant that she didn’t necessarily have the highest tolerance, especially with Manny being the one mixing her drinks. He’d been more than excited when Abby went for her second drink, and decided that they needed to go drink for drink with one another. Needless to say, by the time Y/n arrived, Abby was drunk.

“Abs!” The voice sounded excited as they curled their arms around Abby’s neck from behind, leaning over the back of the sofa she was sitting on to hug her warmly, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

It almost felt like time had stopped the moment her eyes landed on Y/n, admiring the glint of the dim lights on her clean skin. Her hair was still damp, she’d just showered before coming to the party, and Abby couldn’t help but wish she’d also done so by the pooling of sweat on her forehead and palms. She leaned her head back against her shoulder, turning to glide her nose against her neck in a much more affectionate manner than she would have if she had been sober.

“Hi,” She mumbled, “You smell good.”

“It’s the lotion we found on patrol a few weeks ago,” Y/n laughed, “And you’re drunk.”

Abby shrugged, “No, just a little tipsy.”

Nora scoffed out a laugh as she plopped down on the armchair next to her, “Tipsy? Please, she’s been letting Manny mix her drinks all night.”

Y/n pulled away, leaving Abby to let out a small whine of defeat, “Uh oh. Something must be wrong to have you drinking Manny’s concoctions.”

“Hey!” The latino appeared seemingly out of thin air, “You’ve just lost yourself drink privileges.”

She raised her hands in surrender, “Not the threat you think it is, pendejo.”

Y/n threw herself onto the couch next to Abby, settling close enough for their arms to press against one another and sending Abby into what she assumed could only be early heart failure.

“Seriously though, where’ve you been?”

The blonde shrugged once more, “Busy, I guess. Lots of patrols needed to be covered.”

“So you covered…all of them?”

Abby was quiet for a moment, then quickly changed the subject, “Where’s Reagan? Aren’t you two basically attached at the hip or something?”

The smile on Y/n’s face flickered for a beat, and Abby immediately felt a pang of guilt squeeze at her stomach and regret filled her for hurling such a harsh tone at her.

“Something came up,” Y/n turned her gaze to her interlocked fingers in her lap, “She’s not gonna make it.”

Abby recognized a familiar sadness in her voice, one that she had hoped to never hear again, so she dropped the topic and instead found herself falling into a conversation similar to one they would have had before Reagan came into the picture. Things felt right again, especially as Y/n’s hand grasped onto her thick bicep everytime she laughed, and she didn’t push her hand away when she reached over and rested it on her knee–that had to mean something, right?

After Abby finished her fifth drink, things began to get too fuzzy for her to handle, her head dropping back onto the back of the couch with a grunt, her eyes squinting shut in a weak attempt to refocus herself. Y/n glanced up at her, concern painting her features as she reached a hand up to stroke Abby’s flushed cheek.

“You feeling okay?”

Abby grunted in response, leaning her cheek even further into her hand.

Y/n chuckled at her, pulling herself away to stand up and taking hold of Abby’s hand. The blonde’s eyes popped open at the contact, staring up at the girl with hooded eyes as she attempted to pull her to her feet. Abby pushed herself up, forcing her entire body weight into Y/n’s figure faster than she could have anticipated, almost knocking them both to the floor.

“Woah, steady girl,” Y/n laughed, slinging one of her arms over her shoulder, “I think it’s time to get you to bed, don’t you think?”

Abby nodded sleepily, allowing her to pull her along down the hallway, thankfully not having to climb any stairs to Abby’s room with the girl who was 95% muscle on her back. She was able to get her into the room and seated on her mattress with very little trouble–Abby was very compliant with every order that came out of her mouth.

She sat back, allowing her to wipe a wet cloth over her face gently, her eyes struggling to stay open even though she was eager to see her face up close and personal once more.

“Can I ask you something?” She murmured quietly, using every ounce of her strength to keep herself from moaning under Y/n’s touch.

“Of course.”

She paused for a moment, almost like she was thinking it over, though she had no control over the words that spilled out of her mouth, “Do you think I’m pretty?”

Y/n stopped her movements, causing Abby’s eyes to shoot open and fall on the grinning face before her. She laughed softly, then louder until her laughter filled the room and bounced off of the walls.

“Sorry, sorry,” she lifted a hand to cover her mouth to contain her giggles, “That’s just not what I was expecting. But,” Y/n reached around and tugged the elastic out of Abby’s blonde hair, carefully untwisting the braid until her long hair settled around her shoulders, “I think you are very pretty.”

She smiled, mumbling out a quiet thank you.

“I have another question.”

“I think it’s only fair that I get to ask you one first.”

Abby raised her eyebrows, but was quick to nod in agreement.

Y/n leaned back against the footboard of Abby’s bed, setting the cloth aside, “Why’ve you been ignoring me lately?”

“I’m not–” the blonde argued, pausing to compose herself, “I’m not ignoring you. I’m talking to you right now, aren’t I?”

“Abby.”

The blonde girl winced at her stern tone, wary of meeting her gaze, “Look, it’s not like I don’t wanna be around you, it’s just…”

Don’t say it, her very sober subconscious was pleading with her, please.

Her drunk mouth didn’t listen, “Reagan.”

“Reagan?” Y/n frowned, “What about her?”

A small smile appeared on Abby’s lips, “Nuh-uh, it’s my turn.”

Y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes in annoyance, but urging her to ask nonetheless.

“Do you love her?”

“Do I–Abby, why are you asking me this?”

Her bashful eyes fell to her lap, “I think you know why.”

“No, Abby I don’t–”

Her words were silenced, a hum of shock vibrating through her throat as Abby lurched forward, lips pressing sloppily against her own. Y/n froze, neither pulling away nor reciprocating, just remaining in place until Abby pulled away for air.

Abby smiled, resting her forehead against Y/n’s softly. She was drunk, yes, but she had never felt more sober and in-tune with her own feelings as she was then, just after kissing the girl she was so hopelessly in love with for the very first time.

The spell she was under broke the moment her eyelids fluttered open, allowing her to spot the hooded stare and tear-stained cheeks of the girl in front of her.

“Y/n? What’s–”

“You’re drunk, Abby,” she scowled, pushing herself away, “You should go to bed.”

“What? I just–No, please don’t go.”

Y/n turned to face her sharply, “Why? So you can use me for your own pleasure and then kick me to the curb?”

“What?”

“I mean–Jesus, Abby. You were there after Samyah. You were the one who told me she was such a bitch, that I deserved better, but you’re doing the same goddamn thing. Worst of all, you know how I feel about you, but you made it very clear to me that you didn’t feel the same, so I backed off.”

“I love you,” She stammered out, “I-I’m in love with you.”

Y/n laughed bitterly, shaking her head.

“Please,” Abby, fell to the floor as she tried to push her body off of the bed, “I’m telling you the truth. I-I didn’t know before, but I do now.”

Y/n sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose to collect herself, turning to face her once more before fleeing the room, “Go to bed, Abby. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Except they didn’t talk the next day. Or the one after that. Abby basically avoided Y/n like the plague after doing what she did. How could she? Everything that Y/n had said to her was true, she’d known it for weeks. Hell, it was the exact reason why she hadn’t made a move on her sooner.

She knew she couldn’t escape her forever, though. The WLF stadium was pretty big, but they would both be living there for the rest of their (hopefully long) lives and would be bound to run into each other at some point in that time. She was also already in a fairly deep state of depression because of what had happened between the two of them, but also because of how much she just missed having her around.

Which is why she found herself outside Y/n’s bedroom door after returning from a particularly risky patrol that had ended in only four of them returning from a group of seven. Abby was shaky as she made her way back inside the compound, her muscles screaming with every step and her body begging her for a shower and a long sleep, but her feet mindlessly carried her in the opposite direction of her own room. Her fist rapped against the thin wood before she could even process it, but she couldn’t run away now, not when she’d been pinned under a scar only an hour ago with a knife to her throat.

Y/n looked a bit dishevelled as she opened the door, and Abby immediately thought the worst; had she really just shown up at her door at night? What if Reagan was in there? What had Y/n been doing in there when she knocked? Had Abby really interrupted her having sex with someone else?

But the lazy yawn that escaped her puffy lips forced Abby to realise that, no, she hadn’t interrupted her with someone else, she’d woken her up, which somehow made her feel worse.

“Abby?”

“Sorry, uh, is this a bad time?” She shifted her weight back and forth nervously.

“No, I was just–no, it’s not,” Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, “You’ve been avoiding me. Again.”

“I know,” Abby frowned, “I’m sorry. For everything. You have every right to be mad at me–fuck, you have every right to never wanna talk to me again, but I just have to let you know how sorry I am and how much you mean to me.”

Y/n shifted her gaze to the floor for a moment before nodding, glancing back up at Abby and stepping back to open the door wider, “Wanna come in?”

Abby nodded eagerly, stepping inside with caution. She glanced around, taking in the small changes that had been made since she’d last been here. Y/n bedroom was, well, hardly even a bedroom. It was about the size of a large broom closet, just enough room to jam two twin beds and two small dressers inside, though she and her roommate had taken the initiative to make it somewhat cosy inside. Thankfully, the second bed was empty that night, meaning that she didn’t have to hold back.

“Wanna sit?” Y/n motioned to the foot of her bed as she took a seat near the headboard.

“Uh,” Abby glanced down at her dirty attire, “I shouldn't. Sorry, I didn’t even change before I came here–fuck, I’m so sorry.”

Y/n shook her head, “Hey, it’s okay, Abs. We can sit on the floor?”

The blonde’s shoulders loosened at the use of that nickname, almost like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders as she lowered herself to sit directly across from Y/n on the carpeted floor.

It was quiet for a beat, both of the girls sitting in silence as they watched, both anxiously waiting to see who would speak first.

“Did you mean it?” Y/n was the first to crack.

“Did I mean…”

“You know what I’m talking about. You were drunk, but you avoided me like a clicker, Abby, so please don’t play dumb and just talk to me.”

Abby cleared her throat, “Yes. I meant it.”

Y/n let out a heavy breath, and Abby couldn’t tell if she was relieved or even more upset with her answer, “Okay, so you meant it. But why couldn’t you just tell me that? You knew how I felt about you when we first met, but you told me you weren’t interested so that was that.”

Abby shook her head, “It wasn’t like that. When we first met, I was…still dealing with how things ended with Owen. I was angry and hurt, and I really thought I would never get over it. But then, after a little while, I started to realise that I wasn’t heartbroken over him, I was angry that he and Mel didn’t have the decency to talk to me before they started fucking behind my back.”

“Okay,” Y/n nodded, “But after that? Is it some kind of internalised homophobic shit going on? If it is, you could’ve talked to me about it, I could’ve helped you.”

“It’s not that. It wasn’t that I was scared or ashamed of myself, it was that I didn’t even really think about it, I guess. Then, when I finally did, you were with Samyah, and then that ended and you were so upset, and that got me thinking that…I don’t know, what if I was the same as her? What if I was just wanting to experiment? I didn’t wanna talk to you about it because I didn’t wanna lose you, and I didn’t want you to think that I was the same as her,” Abby could feel her eyes stinging from the sudden onset of tears, “And then by the time I realised that that wasn’t the case, you were already with Reagan.”

Y/n opened her mouth to speak, but Abby cut her off.

“I know, you’re with her, and if that’s what you want, then that’s fine. I want you to be happy. But I can’t leave here knowing that I didn’t tell you that I am in love with you, so much that I don’t even know what to do with myself.”

Y/n didn’t answer, not verbally. Instead, she threw herself across the room, clambering into Abby’s lap and messily pressing her lips against hers. Abby was quick to reciprocate, her lips moving against hers steadily and conforming the once sloppy movements into a more slow and rhythmic embrace. Her arms moved to wrap around her waist, palms sliding up and down her back greedily as Y/n gently took Abby’s flushed cheeks into her own hands.

When they finally pulled away, they both broke into wide grins, leaning in to peck each other once more.

“Reagan and I aren’t together. I guess I was just on the rebound and she was looking for a fling, but it’s over.” Y/n whispered, “ I love you too, so much that I do know what to do with myself.”

Abby laughed, eyes trailing down her body and finally settling on the dirt and mud and blood that had transferred from her own dirty clothes to Y/n’s.

“Shit, sorry, got you kinda dirty.”

Y/n glanced down at herself, then shrugged with a sly glint in her eye, “It’s okay. It just means that we’re both gonna have to go shower before bed, right?”

Abby stared at her in awe for a moment, brain finally catching up to her words as she jumped to her feet, hauling Y/n up into her arms as she began a quick march in the direction of the women’s showers, the otherwise quiet hallway being disturbed by Y/n’s squeal of surprise and laughter as the tall blonde carried her.

Though the laughter was certainly more bearable to the surrounding rooms than the sounds that echoed from the showers over the next hour, though Abby couldn’t find a single ounce of concern for the others in the moment, just glad that she was finally able to hold and touch and kiss Y/n, just like real people do.

#reader insert #x reader #imagines #lesbian #abby anderson #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson x you

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tinandabin · 3 months

Text

SAGAU but the the reader is the ACTUAL creator

Thorny love: part 5

Previous part: part 4

a/n: am I back from the dead? I dunno, but yesterday night I felt like writing and wrote another part. so, I decided to publish it here also!

________

"Yo-Your Grace... You are finally here.." Ei spoke, her eyes wide and her legs shaking a bit. It almost looked like she was gonna cry. However, her face hardened up as soon as more people started gathering around you and her. Perhaps, you were the only one to catch a glimpse of her expression. She is an Archon, she too has a reputation to uphold in Inazuma, after all. "Hello, Ei. How have you been?" You smiled at her, hand going up to ruffle her hair. Revelyn still hadn't let go of your robe, her hold on it tightened a bit.

Ei's breath hitched as soon as your hand messed with her hair. "I'm..." She tried to find the right words to express her feelings, but she couldn't. How can she explain that she felt as if a part of her had been torn from her when you left her? It felt as if...she had been plunged into never-ending despair and loneliness. She missed you, very dearly. The place where her heart should have been, felt strangely empty without your embrace, your smile, your eyes, you.

Your hand retreated soon enough, "You don't have to answer, Ei." You gently told her, sensing her inner turmoil. It hurt you to leave your creations suffering and in agony, it truly did so. But some actions are sadly enough, necessary.

Ei smiled and nodded, hand coming to hold yours when she saw another hand grasping your robe. Immediately, she looked at the culprit only to see the face of the impostor. How dare she even show her face here after all she did? The thought made her scoff. She not only deceived the Archons but even you. The nerve of some people.. And now she acts all angelic and needy when you show up? But of course, Ei won't say anything. Not in front of you.

"And who might be the coward behind you, Your Grace?" Ei gestured towards Revelyn behind you. You smiled beamingly, gently prying Revelyn from behind you. "Oh, come now, Ei, you don't remember her?" You asked her innocently, quickly realizing the jab she was throwing towards Revelyn, but brushing it off. You don't wish for an argument to start over here, of all places.

Ei stared at Revelyn for a moment, taking your hint to not taunt her. "I do, Your Grace. How could I not?"

"I'm glad to know so, " You put your hands on Revelyn's shoulder, your touch sending an electrifying shock of pleasure through her body. "Everyone misunderstood Revelyn. She's a very sweet and angelic girl. I'm sure she will fit right back in, hm?"

Revelyn stood awkwardly, clearly wanting to be anywhere but here. She decided to keep up her act of cowardice until you left. "Um.. Hi," Her meek voice spoke up, a slight tremble to it. She batted her eyelashes at Ei, smiling softly. "I'm Revelyn.. Revelyn Aniela. "

The surname struck some nostalgic feeling inside you. You had a brief feeling that perhaps you had heard this somewhere before, that perhaps someone dear to you held the same surname. Someone close to your heart, your mind, your soul- but who? Who was that? You can't recall. Aniela. Aniela. Aniela. So familiar, yet so distinct. Maybe it was simply the name of a friend long gone, you would love to give yourself this benefit of doubt, but you're not the kind of person to do that. You're the Creator for fuck's sake, if you're remembering something, then that must be because it's important! It was of significance, you wouldn't just remember a random surname, right? Right...?

You shook your head, deciding you're indeed giving yourself the benefit of the doubt because you're too old to deal with this detective stuff. Frankly enough, if you think about it more, you'll probably just get a headache. Best to leave it be, now. You'll just ask Seraphina to play detective, like always. You cleared your throat. "So, what are we waiting for? Shall we go?"

Ei nodded right away, grabbing your hand and Intertwining your fingers. "As you wish, Your Grace. "

Revelyn was left behind to catch up.

__________

A few days passed in Inazuma without much commotion. You spent most of the time with Ei, Revelyn of course stuck around so long as you were there. Personally, you were tired of both of them. They need to stop clinging to you like you're their mother. Ei, you understood why she clinged to you, considering she didn't see you for months on end, but Revelyn, who lived with you for like... the past month, it wasn't very understandable. Lile be for real, Revelyn. You not tired yet? Like. Girl. Stop embarrassing yourself and get some self respect and go where you're actually wanted.

So, for both your sanity and their's (Lie), you decided to leave both of them together to socialize and become the best of best friends. (Lie. You just wanted time to yourself and wanted to meet Yae Miko.) Of course, you were, for the first time, surprised to see both Ei and Revelyn unite together. Merely for the purpose of notetting you leave but hey, progress! They atleast united for a common goal, no matter how troublesome that may be for you.

Their combined forces weren't enough to deter you, in the end, you won and they were forced to talk to each other or sulk together, or maybe, a rare possibility, but have a heated make-out session. Who knows. Whatever works, works. They're on their own now and you're on your own, to meet Yae Miko and have a heated make-out session with her perhaps. It won't happen, maybe, but the thought is entertaining though. You're like, 93% certain Miko would agree if you asked. It's not like she hasn't suggested that before. Ah, enough thoughts. You're here.

"Good grace, it's such a heavy task to climb these hills to just be graced by your presence, Miko, " You let out a whine, leaning against one of thr shrine. "You should know my old bones can't hold for long-" A book was placed against your lips and a fluffy, really fluffy and soft, tail caressed your thigh sneakily. "My my, Your Divinity, you ought to know, I don't fancy you saying those words. You look very beautiful, and ravishing, might I add. " Yae Miko said, leaning in close to you with a smirk on her face.

You placed a hand on her wrist, gently removing the book. "I'm happy you think so, but might I say, you look even more delightful, " You replied back with a grin. This flirty playful banter was always your favorite thing to do in Inazuma, apart from watching Revelyn and Ei be at their throats, of course. "Oh please, Your Divinity, you flatter me. But we both know, you're the most beautiful-" You placed a finger on her lips. "Ahhh, shhh. Nothing more to speak of this topic. You can't argue with me on this, you're, of course, the most stunning woman in Inazuma, "

Miko let out an offended gasp, "Inazuma only? Is that my beauty's worth to you, Your Divinity? I'm offended, " She pouted, clearly putting up an act just for you.

"No no, my dear. I meant in whole Teyvat. It would be a crime for me to think your beauty isn't other worldly, "

And this playful banter continued on.

_________

On the other side, Revelyn and Ei were indeed having a heated make-out session. Not the kind you're thinking of.

"Oh, so as soon as my graceful creator leaves, you suddenly drop the act of cowardice?" Ei stared at Revelyn, a cold and unrelenting aura around her.

"Your creator...? Psssh," Revelyn let out a mocking laugh, "Please. Your words are blatantly false!" She glared at Ei, her fists clenching at her sides.

"Shut up, you witch, you casted a spell of sorts on my graceful creator, didn't you? That's why she is completely and utterly fooled by you!"

"Oh? I'll cast a spell on you too and turn you into a monkey if you don't shut up!"

You walked in with a smile. "Guys. I just had a make-out session with Miko-"

________

taglist: taglist: @shizunxie @dearloonies @iruiji @yani-dere @kiraisastay @fauxizs @salvationprodigy @thetruepair @lunalily19 @vvyeislazzy @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @kaveh-is-pretty @plusea @i-have-a-lot-of-ocs @the-real-fandom-person @kunikuzushisbeloved @artwitchh @sadgutaches @irisxiel @atlaincorrect @warcelia @lorkai @muomoii @elakari @burningtyphoonlady @daily-average

@3noa3 @7smexy7diva @5sos-wdw @bre99 @kittieswitheverything @theblueblub @faejvst @ryver8000 @dreamlessnight @bunnyOu @goldenglow149 @callmehnooby

@angelofdarkness2 @anglicascorner

@pinxeajin @avalordream @boycigs @ilovemyhusbandaaravos

a/n: hi! if yr name is cut, then that means I couldn't tag you. if in the next part I won't be able to tag you, then your name will be removed from the taglist. please ask me to tag you again in the LATEST part to be readded to the taglist! thank you (❁´◡`❁)

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

Note

Maybe Ghost Konig and any other cod characters you write for with an s/o who’s very insecure about their stretch marks? Thank you very much

MW2 w/ an S/O who is Insecure about their Stretch Marks

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, No Pronouns used for Reader except for 'You', Implications of Smut, Knife Play, Insecurity, Anxiety/Upset, Minor Implications/Spoilers about Ghost’s Past, Mention of a Strap-On, Brief Mention of Murder/Killing, Angst, Fluff, Possessiveness, Protectiveness, etc.

Ghost:

Has absolutely zero clue as to why you're insecure about your stretch marks.

Genuinely never even thought of them before now, even though he’s seen them many a time.

However, when you expressed concerns over the way you looked - the way you felt - because of these marks, he set about trying to make you feel better immediately.

He’s not the most emotionally mature person; having to grow up as quickly as he did at such an early age definitely stunted his emotional growth, making it difficult for him to feel and express emotions clearly.

But for you, he’ll try his best.

He starts nuzzling into your thighs and stomach more often outside of sex; just tender moments between the two of you, with him showcasing how much he loves you and your body.

He’d try words of affirmation, saying how he thought you looked “Positively spiffing” (he was using the term humorously but meant every word) in your outfit.

Whenever you cracked a smile, he’d feel triumph bloom like solid gold in his chest, casting him in a glow of pride.

Eventually, he’d showcase to you the parts of himself he would never show another soul.

One evening, Simon had his hoodie off, his back and chest fully exposed to you. And all the scars that seared across them. You tracked your finger along them, creeping from one gash to another. All the while, Simon rhymed them off to you: when, where and how he’d gotten them.

You traced one on his shoulder blade. The warm glow of the room belying the horrific means through which the scar was attained.

“Paris, terrorist attack, twenty-ten.”

“I never heard of an attack in Paris then,” you said, tone questioning.

Simon cast a lopsided smile over his shoulder at you. You caught it.

“That’s the point.”

He turned to face you fully, placing a hand on your waist, beginning to hike your shirt up. You placed your hands over his, shaking your head, a wide-eyed expression overtaking you.

“No, Simon,” you said quietly. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. His head tilted.

“Why not?” He said. “Have I done something to upset you?”

At that, your eyes snapped up and found his, dark and gleaming. You shook your head, vehement in your judgement.

“No, God no! Simon, it’s not you, it’s-”

“Don’t say it’s you - don’t you dare say it.”

The authority in his tone made you ache in places you didn’t want to think about right now. You shifted.

“But…it is me, Simon.” You felt your eyes and throat sting with tears. “It’s always me.”

“Love–” Simon’s movements were stutterish as he took your chin in his hand and inched your face up to meet his. You tried resisting, but he wasn’t going to let this rest. “Tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

There lay a desperation in his voice you’d never heard before, and neither had Simon. You sniffed, and, your eyes shimmering with tears, you looked up at him. Only sincerity painted his features, no trace of condemnation or judgement hanging upon a single point. You swallowed.

“It’s just that…I appreciate what you’re doing for me - believe me, I do ! - but…”

“...But…?”

“But your scars mean something; you got them through protecting people, fighting for them - caring for what matters most–” You choked on a sob, tears starting to roll down your cheeks. “And mine are just…” it burned your tongue to say it, “there.”

Simon went quiet for a moment.

“(Y/N)...” His voice was a rumble of thunder, the cleansing storm rising over the tainted hill. He took your hands in his, abandoning your shirt. He rubbed reassurances into your hands, tracing the veins, the valleys of muscle and the alleys of life which pumped through them. His eyes seemed to turn down at the ends, round, doe-like.

“Your marks are not ‘just there’.” He wiped a stream of tears indenting the heather face of your cheek, and his hand remained there, collecting those which followed. “They are evidence of how you’ve lived, how you’ve survived,”

His hand dropped to your chin, bringing your face up to his once more, shining his moonbeams upon you.

“They show how you’ve grown. How you’ve lived and enjoyed a life you made for yourself. Your marks succeed where mine have failed; yours scream life, while mine whisper death - a life loved, and lives taken.”

Your mouth fell open. You were aghast, unable to conjure anything in your vocabulary that was either expansive or emotive enough to convey all that you felt. Your chest broke out into warmth, the dawn of a new perspective shining upon you as Simon did now.

Before you could form a sentence - as blubbering and elementary as it would be - Simon pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips. It was warm, all-encompassing, musical and low in the ringing silence of your desolate ocean.

He parted, cautiously, lips peeling from yours as if you were attached there, and looked upon you. Your cheeks were beginning to sting with the salt of your tears, vaguely chemical against your skin. You clambered into Simon’s arms, wounded and healing, and encompassed as much of him in your arms as you could.

“Your scars are beautiful, Simon,” you whispered into his chest. “No matter what you think - no matter what you say - I’ll always find them so.” You nuzzled into his neck. “I’ll always find them you.”

You heard Simon sniff, felt his chest rise with the sudden influx of air - emotion. You didn’t look up. You allowed him emotional anonymity.

“And I’ll always love your marks, (Y/N),” his voice strained, whispering and wisping. “I’ll always love them on you–” he pressed a strong, permanent kiss to your head, “--I’ll always love you.”

The evening consumed you, whisking you from the mortal coil to that of the metaphysical, that which was hidden to all but you and Simon, where you joined once again, physical bodies bound in a tight embrace, slumbering, dreaming.

König:

You actually came to König, sliding into his lap as he read a book, unable to keep what was eating you alive a secret any longer.

“Maus?” he said, putting Pride and Prejudice down and turning his full attention to you. “Is something the matter?”

You kept your head down and nuzzled into his chest, hoping his shirt would soak the tears staining your cheeks.

König tried to crane his neck down to see your face, but you hid it further into the cotton of his jumper.

König sighed, then began rubbing your back with a large hand.

“Whatever it is, we can fix it,” he said softly, gently. “No matter what.”

Maye thirty minutes passed, maybe it was only five, and König remained quiet for the duration, occasionally squeezing you and pressing a kiss to your head.

“I hate them,” you muttered, voice muffled by König’s chest.

Immediately, his back was up, like a cat’s. If he had the ears, they’d have been pricked.

“What?” he said, voice hard and thin, like a spear. You jumped in his lap and he sank back down, patting your head, a silent apology for his outburst.

His voice sounded as if it were spread thin, trying to conceal something far bigger than itself.

“Who has upset you so, maus?” He was careful with his words, trying to keep the extent of his bubbling anger at bay.

Finally, you looked up into his large, soft gaze. His eyes widened.

Your face was red in places, a map of countries in a continent called Sorrow.

Your eyes glistened, and König’s breath caught in his throat.

Before he could ask what was wrong, you shuffled off his lap and stood before him. You lifted your top and held it in your limp hand.

König’s eyes moved across your body as if searching for an injury, and when he turned up nothing, he looked you in the eyes.

“Maus, my lovely– I don’t understand,” König said as he shifted to the edge of the sofa, ready to jump up at your command.

You sighed deeply. “Don’t you see?” you said, folding your arms across your chest. “Don’t you see them, König?”

“See what?” His tone was becoming gradually frantic.

You huffed. “My marks, König! My– ugly– disgusting–”

“Hey, hey–” he slid off the sofa and enveloped you in his arms, holding you close to him, “--they are not ugly! Just– listen to me, maus–

“How do you deal with them?” you said, quiet as your namesake. Exasperated. “Your scars, Köni…how do you live with them?” Your voice croaked with tears, and the lump in your throat grew, bobbed up and down. It burned, reminded you of why you were here to begin with.

König thought for a moment, going quiet, his arms still wrapped around you. His hand squeezed your shoulder, fingers pressing soft, repetitive circles into your skin, a cycle of comfort. His warmth - his scent of pine - filled your senses, held you as he did now.

“There was a time,” he said, finally, his voice a whisper, “not too long ago, when… they made me hate myself, hate what I’d become.” He took your chin between his fingers and inched your face to meet his. He smiled, eyes crinkling. “But then I met you, and you told me how pretty you thought they were; ‘like tattoos,’ you said.” The memory tickled your mind and you couldn’t help but smile at the image of you sat on König’s chest, trailing a light finger just below his scars, afraid to touch them - their history - for fear it would hurt your dear König. He urged you to feel them, to make himself entirely transparent to you.

“And that’s how I have grown to like - to love - them. Because your opinion means more to me than mine does.”

The stinging sensation in your eyes strengthened, and you couldn’t help but let a tear slip. Though, not of your own despair, but of your love for König, and his apparent adoration for you. König could tell your tears were not of sorrow, and he pressed a slow, light kiss to your lips.

“Unless you’re planning on leaving me for another man, I suggest you only listen to me from now on.” His smile made his cheeks round and full, his eyes turn into half moons.

“And what makes you sure I could leave you for someone else?” you said, speculatively, jokingly. Inquisitively. König gave an honest chuckle, taking your face between his hands and squishing your cheeks.

“With a body like that, you could have any man you wanted.” His tone was light yet held a hidden weight, a seriousness, perhaps an insecurity, he didn’t want to address. “I’m just glad you chose me.”

He punctuated his claim with another kiss, deeper, hotter this time.

Soap:

You were turned over in bed beside Soap, who, despite your best efforts to conceal yourself, heard your soft chokes of tears.

His initial, instinctive reaction had been to envelop you in his kisses, slip his arms around your waist and pull you flush against him, to implore you to tell him what had made you so upset.

But, as he lay on his side of the bed, listening to your silken sobs into your pillow, he felt his chest break out into weighted feeling of dread, tree roots digging through the skin and into his very being, tinging his blood with a most negative sensation of blackened lightning.

Empathy, one might call it. He was feeling what you felt.

He couldn’t take it, your tears, your despair, and so he turned, gently, onto his other side and faced your back.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, and you flinched.

“Oh!” you said, patting your face with your sleeve. “Sorry, Johnny– I didn’t mean to wake you,”

Your voice was deceivingly light, airy - a front to throw Soap off your scent.

Soap didn’t bother with the formalities. His only priority now was you.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” he said. He pulled your shoulder back, willing you to at least look at him.

You didn’t move.

You refused to.

“Nothing, love,” you said, hushed beneath the tension in the room.

You turned, offering only a peak of your facial silhouette, sacrificing it to the sliver of moonlight peeking through the blinds.

It was wet, despite your best efforts to conceal any evidence of your upset.

Soap restrained a sigh and watched you try to burrow your way back into your pillow before he started asking any more questions. Without warning, he forced you to look at him, pulling you so you lay on your back. He sank down on top of you, knees bolted to your sides - one of which sat dangerously close to the edge of the bed, threatening to slip off at any moment.

His gaze was direct and impenetrable as he searched your eyes, hands pinning your wrists beside your head. His strength was unrelenting, unmoving. He wasn’t going to let you off easy on this.

“Now, then,” he said, voice low and dyed an erotic tone of resolution with his accent. “Are ye gonna tell me what’s upset you, or am I gonna have to force it out of ye?”

You knew he was joking, and you shared the knowledge that this was his way of trying to make you feel secure - that you could trust him. But of course, you already knew that.

You gaze drifted down to where yours and Soap’s thighs met, and the weight that had been pressing on you for weeks jumped down onto your chest again, urging a fresh set of tears to emerge. You looked away, off to the side, hoping you could hide the dried streaks your tears had left behind.

“Hey, Sweetie, look at me– look at me.” Soap’s voice grew stern, and, when you refused to cooperate, he took your chin between his fingers and made you look at him, grip decidedly firm yet gentle.

“Angel, baby–” his eyes pleaded with you for an answer. “What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t hold it anymore and burst into tears, trying to keep your sobs quiet. Soap remained atop you, caressing the side of your face. Your tears were thick, almost viscous with all that had caused them, as if they, too, bore the weight of what plagued you.

“My marks,” you said, your voice merely a sound rather than a sentence. Soap’s head tilted as he looked down at you.

“What was that?” he said, unsure as to whether he’d heard you correctly. You sniffed, fortified your voice.

“My marks,” you repeated, clearer now.

Soap looked at you as if you were speaking another language, and you mistook his silence for perhaps the oncomings of a laugh. Or worse yet, agreement.

Soap scoffed alright, but he didn’t laugh. Instead he rearranged so he sat further down your body. He lifted your shirt, which you tried to pull down. He growled and practically tore it off you. And you let him. He stared down at your abdomen, your thighs, and sighed deeply.

“Why on earth are you worried about your stretch marks?” he said, absolute and firm, as if it were the most obvious question in the world. You almost wanted to shrug and apologise for wasting his time, but you remained quiet.

“These marks,” he began, lowering his face to your stomach, “are part of you. You know what that means?” His gaze flickered from your abdomen to your face. When you shook your head, Soap gave a huff of a laugh, his breath hot and circling against your skin.

“It means that they’re not the burden you think they are; they’re not unsightly, or ugly, or anything else you can think to call them. They’re beautiful because they are you.”

Your tears were still welling, and Soap pressed a soft kiss to your stomach. Then another. Then another. He linked a chain of kisses, inching further down your body, reaching the band of your underwear. He looked up at you beneath heavy lids. He dipped his tongue beneath the band, making you jolt. He laughed.

“I mustn’t have been doing a good job of showing you how beautiful you are,” he said, lowly. His hands slid to your hips, hooking his fingers over the edge of your underwear and tugging them down.

“It’s time I changed that.”

Price:

He’d picked up on your off mood every day this week, but he’d wanted you to come to him when you were ready, rather than him chase you up about something you didn’t necessarily want to talk about.

You never cracked, though. Not even once.

You’d kept your thoughts to yourself, yet your body betrayed you.

Whenever Price had initiated something in the bedroom, you’d shied away, putting your hands against his chest and giving a weak, watery smile.

“Maybe another night?” you’d say, and Price respected your wishes.

But, he was growing agitated.

It wasn’t his sexual frustration which urged him to act, but his frustration at himself for not being able to tell what was troubling you.

He was your protector; it was his duty, his pleasure to look out for you in any way you needed him.

And he felt like he was failing.

Eventually, he asked you outright what had gotten you so upset, and when you reluctantly told him it was your stretch marks, Price sat there. Flabbergasted.

“That’s it?” He couldn’t help himself saying. But when he saw how much the topic meant to you after you gave him a stormy look, he changed his tune.

Consoled you well into the night, holding you, burying kisses into your skin, drawing lines against your marks, saying how he found them beautiful because they were “Part of you.”

Never lets you go a day without feeling appreciated - more so than he did prior to this discovery.

“You know, Darling,” Price began, laying in bed with you in his arms, “I can’t remember what my life was like before you came.”

You looked up at him. He nuzzled the tip of his nose against your hair.

“And I can’t imagine what it would be like without you in it.” The smile in his voice was more than a mere tone, but a feeling, deep and sincere, the epitome of love itself.

Your face broke out into a grin, beams shining through the clouded sky. “Oh?” you said, bringing your thigh over his middle. You slid on top of him, knees either side of his waist. You planted your hands on his chest, rubbing slowly. His chest rumbled, the beginnings of a purr. His eyes gleamed, his lips curled up beneath his moustache, pinched as raised theatre curtains

“How about I show you how much you mean to me?” Your request was more foreshadowing than anything else, but, in a plot twist, John gripped you by your thighs and rolled so that he was now on top of you, your wrists pinned beside your head.

He brought his face down beside your head. “Last I checked, that was my job,” he rasped, his beard scratching the side of your face. He slid a hand down to the hem of your night shirt, raising it over your stomach. “And I don’t plan on retiring.”

Alejandro:

Is on the offensive immediately.

Thinks somebody’s said something to you that made you upset.

“Who was it, mi amor? Who do I have to kill?”

It would take all your strength to keep him from storming out the house and popping a cap in the first person he suspected as being the perpetrator.

You’d have to explain to him that nobody’s said anything to hurt your feelings, and that your insecurity about your stretch marks has been with you since you were young.

“It’s just the way I am, Love,” you’d say, casting a diluted smile Alejandro’s way. “‘Ts just the way things are.”

This shocks Alejandro; sends him into a catatonic state, even.

Not once had he even considered your stretch marks a point of insecurity: not for you, or him.

In fact, he thought they were cool, and whenever he’d show you his scars, he’d smile. “Now we’re matching!” He’d say.

After you’d expressed your insecurities about your marks, he’d never let you go a day where he’d remind you you’re beautiful (though, that isn’t saying much; there isn’t a day that goes by where he doesn’t make you feel worthy and loved. He just tries even harder).

Man’s a body worshiper if ever I saw one (and I have seen many).

When you’re laying down together and he has his head on your thighs, he’ll randomly turn around and start kissing your marks.

Only does this in private, and with good reason.

Definitely the type to use tongue, even if it’s on the surface of your skin.

Will not let you leave until he’s convinced you’re feeling better about yourself.

Tells you that his mission in life is to “Make you realise how beautiful you are in everyone else’s eyes, even if you don’t see it yourself.”

You can definitely use the insecurity card to request - ahem - ‘snuggle time’ with Alejandro.

If you say to him in your whiny voice: “Baaabe, I’m not feeling too good about myself today,” he’ll be on you like a rash.

You may think you’ve got one over on him, but don’t be fooled.

He knows what you’re doing, but he’s not going to stop you.

After all, why would he ever pass up the opportunity to show the person he loves most in all the world how beautiful they are?

“There will never be a day where I will not worship you, mi corazón,” he panted, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your thighs. “You are my god - my religion.”

His eyes gleamed as he looked up at you from between your legs. “My life.”

You screwed your eyes shut and whined when he licked a stripe against your underwear, catching you where you needed him most.

“Alejandro,” you whispered, his name a prayer on your lips. “Please,”

“Say it.” He slid a hand over your stomach, feeling your skin, your marks, beneath his warmth. “Say what you want me to do and I’ll give it to you.” There was no hint of a lie in his words, only the inescapable truth of his undying love for you and everything your body had to offer.

Between glistening eyes and an open mouth, you let him in. “You.”

Alejandro left many bruises and bites on you that night, all borne out of love. And, afterwards, as he looked upon your sleeping form, all he could think was of how ethereal you looked, and how lucky he was to have managed to find someone like you.

Valeria:

She simply won’t hear of it.

She’s quite an aggressive woman, and she expresses her love and adoration likewise.

Therefore, when you end up confiding in her that there is even a single part of yourself you’re insecure about, she flips her lid.

Not at you, of course. At who or whatever has made you feel this way.

She throws her hands up and curses in Spanish, saying how only she’s “allowed to make you feel that way.”

And she means it.

She won’t let you feel bad unless she wants you to (and even then it’s because you’ve whined and moaned for it).

Trust that she’s watching you like a hawk 24/7 after that.

If she finds you looking at your marks with anything less than adoration, she’ll drag you into the bedroom and force you to say you do, otherwise she’s not relenting with that ten inch strap-on.

She’s sensitive, however.

When she can tell that a quick therapy session isn’t going to change your mind, she’ll just sit with you and listen, make you a drink and hold you when you cry.

She’ll come up with the idea to name them - so they “feel like friends rather than enemies,”

Places warm, soft kisses along your marks, christening them with her love when you’ve decided on a name.

If you name one after her, she’ll be honoured.

“Now I’ll be with you forever,” she’ll say, wrapping her arms around your waist. “On you forever, I should say.”

Valeria dragged you into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. One of her men guarded the other side, frightening off other club-goers.

Valeria’s eyes were heavy, dark and all-consuming with a feral rage that only occurred under rare circumstances, those being her jealousy. She gave you little time to protest as she hiked you up onto the counter, the tap digging into your back.

“I’ll murder him,” she said, voice rasping with drink and the need to mark you - to take you. “I’ll kill them all - all those bastards that looked at you.”

“Valeria, please,” you gasped when she cut the lining of your jeans open, making the button pop and recede into a dark, grimy corner of the tiled room. Valeria brought the knife to your throat, her voice snarling and serious as death.

“I am the only one who can look at you.” The tip of her knife began its slow descent to the collar of your shirt, which she separated from your body with a long, ripping tear. Now, chest exposed, you yelped. Valeria forced your legs apart and crouched between them. Her knife sat at the waistband of your underwear.

“You’re mine,” she promised. “And if I need to mark you myself–” she trailed the tip of her weapon along the marks on your hips, “–then so be it.”

Gaz:

Will look at you like you’ve just asked him to recite Pi.

What???

What do you mean you don’t think your stretch marks look good?

Gaz thinks they look perfect!

He can’t imagine you without them; he’s genuinely emotionally attached to them.

You should’ve guessed as much when you felt him tracing them as you lay in bed.

Fr though, Gaz understands why you feel insecure, but he doesn’t understand why, if that makes sense.

He knows certain things get to you, thus making it plausible that you would become upset with something you found on your person, but he doesn’t understand why you’re insecure.

He can feel himself getting angry whenever he hears you talking - or even thinking - bad about yourself.

He’s not mad at you! Not at all.

He’s simply aggravated by the fact that something or someone has made it so you can’t see yourself the way he sees you.

To cheer you up, he’ll start relaying extremely specific compliments to you.

“I’d love you if you were a two foot tall worm with a receding hairline.”

“Uuuh…thank you?”

Though, if he found those didn’t work or, God forbid, made you feel worse-

“So you’re saying that you only find my personality attractive and not my body.”

– He’ll find another way of lifting your spirits.

“I would commit arson if you ever tried to get rid of your stretch marks.”

“...Why?”

“Because I love them and they’re my friends 🥺.”

Btw he’s fr about that - he sees your stretch marks as individual, sentient beings.

And he begins to tell you the backstories he’s made up for them.

And you can’t help but get attached to them, too.

“Hold on, why does Antonio get to be seen today and not Felicity?” you asked, holding the sleeveless vest to your torso. Gaz returned, throwing a pile of yet more sleeveless shirts, vests and other variants onto the bed.

“Because I haven’t seen Antonio all week and I’m starting to think you’re playing favourites.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Poor guy’s probably suffocating under all those jumpers you wear!”

“Oh?” You raised and eyebrow, looking at Gaz in the mirror. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Gaz threw you a devilish smile, the corners of his lips pointing up like horns, sharp and curled. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, holding the vest against you.

“Put the vest on and you won’t have to find out.” He pressed a constellation of kisses to your shoulder, up the connecting junction of your neck and shoulder, until he reached your jaw. “Unless you want to.”

Graves:

When you initially told him, he wasn’t sure how to respond.

Genuinely thought money would make all your problems go away.

He threw a wad of rolled-up George Washingtons at you and told you to “Buy something nice - do yourself up pretty.”

Obviously, not the best thing to say to somebody who’s insecure.

And when you didn’t talk to him for days afterwards, he realised where he’d gone wrong.

You wanted reassurance, not a solution.

See, he’s so used to using money to make his problems disappear that he thought it’d be a quick fix for you, too.

Pokes his head round the bedroom door like heeeyyy~ before taking a seat beside you on the bed.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t realise you just wanted to talk rather than have me fix the problem.”

His wording’s still very off, but he’s working on it with gentle guidance from you.

He genuinely never realised your stretch marks were an insecurity for you, though, hencewhy he’s not so good at the whole ‘reassurance’ thing.

He learns quickly, though.

It starts off with small gestures; putting a hand over your marks, looking at them fondly, telling you how gorgeous you were every single day.

And, eventually, when you’re being more…intimate, he’ll refuse to let you cover yourself up (unless you really want to, ofc).

Trying to hide your marks? Not for long - Phillip’s got a PHD in cloth tearing, and you’re his first job.

“I don’t remember telling you you could do that.”

Aggressive love. Full-on laving his tongue over your marks.

“Just markin’ what’s mine, Angel.”

Doesn’t give you even a second to feel insecure anymore.

Encourages you to wear clothing that reveals your marks if he thinks it’ll make you feel better.

Again, won’t force you to; if you don’t like revealing clothing overall, he’ll make sure to find other ways of empowering you.

Gets very territorial whenever he catches someone staring at you because he firmly believes that, 100% of the time, it’s because they’re checking you out.

Will glower at them with his eyes until they look away, cowering.

And all the while he’s looking at you, thinking God damn, I can’t believe I managed to pull you <3

“Love, why did you stare at that man in the bar earlier?” You asked, not looking up from your book. In the dim light of the bedroom, you saw Phillip’s head turn, looking at you. In your periphery, you saw his cheeks lift. He crept closer.

“Ain’t it natural for a man to want to protect what’s his?” His voice carried with it a weight you recognised as rhetorical. You put your book down on the bedside table and resisted a knowing smile.

“I don’t know,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “Is it?”

A sly smile crossed Graves’ face, and, in an instant, he was on top of you, his weight definite and promising of something. He wrangled your arms, pinning them above your head. And you only smiled up at him as he beamed down at you.

“Oh, I think you know it is.” His eyes gave no way to humour or jest, possessing within their oyster shell colour a pearl of the rarest, most valuable material: love.

Graves leaned down, and, biting the shell of your ear, pressing a kiss beneath it, whispered.

“And you know how much I hate sharin’.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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hughes86-43 · 22 days

Note

Jack hughes prompt

"what the hell did you think i meant by that?"

“what the hell did you think I meant by that?”

Jack could never figure out how in the world you haven’t noticed how much he likes you. He’s done everything to make it obvious. He’s gotten you you’re favorite coffee, he’s let you cry in his arms when it was a bad day, he’s given you kisses on the forehead, and he’s practically said it out loud before. Once again, he’s gotten nothing from you that has made it known that you like him or that you know he likes you.

Truly, he was growing tired of waiting, and he was just dying to tell you how he felt. All of his friends have told to just get it over with because of how clueless you are and they are tired of how pouty he is about it.

So, that leads him to where he is now. It’s around five o’clock when Jack shows up to your apartment, tulips in hand (they’re you’re favorite), since he knows you just got off of work. Today was the day that he was going to do it.

Immediately when you open the door, the breath in his lungs is completely gone. You were stunning, even though you’re makeup and hair signaled a long day, you still looked breathtaking to him.

“Hi, didn’t know you were coming over!” You say as you lead him inside. “What’s with the flowers?”

Jack tries get to the words out but he stumbles on them. “I’m sorry, what?” You laugh as you didn’t hear a word he said.

He coughs and finally gets the words out, “Oh, these are for you, tulips are your favorite right?”

You practically melt at how he managed to remember your favorite flower. “Um, yes, tulips are my favorite, thank you! How’d you know?”

He sits on the kitchen stool as you take the flowers from him. “Well, I know pretty much everything about you so it was simple.”

“Oh, do ya now?” You raise your eyebrow up at him at his confidence of knowing everything about you.

He looks right at you as he says, “Yes, I know everything about you. I’ll prove it to you.” He lets out a breath before beginning, “I know you like your coffee iced with just cream and sugar, I know that every Friday after work you go get tacos to complete a long week, I know that you cry every time you watch Marley and Me, I know that you love mint chocolate chip ice cream but you’ll never admit it to someone, I know you love when you get to go to my games, I know that you wished you could’ve played a sport but nothing ever caught on for you.” He stops and takes a moment before saying how he feels. “Lastly, I know that you’re clueless when it comes to knowing about how I feel for you and how much I love you basically.”

You stand there against the counter in complete shock at what he just said. You knew he knew a lot about you, but you didn’t expect him to say all those things, and you especially didn’t expect him to say how he feels. You place the flowers on the counter before walking towards the kitchen island to stand in front of him.

“What do you mean that I’ve been clueless about how you feel about me?”

He gives you a lopsided grin. “What the hell did you think I meant by that?”

Clearly not up for stupid questions with his sarcastic reply. “Okay, you like me?”

“Honey, I think I love you. Honestly, everybody else knows that I do, well expect you it always seems like.” He messes with his zipper on his jacket while he waits for your response.

You wait a minute to reply as you think of what to say. You’ve always liked him in more than a friend, but you have always been scared to admit it. Deciding not to keep him waiting on your response, since he looks like he’s going to throw up any minute now as you make him wait. Clearing your throat to get his attention, you speak your thoughts. “Clearly I need to more aware of things. However, I think I like you a lot too. I think I’ve been to scared to admit it, scared of losing you.”

He rounds the corner of the island to pull you into him. “Honey, you could never lose me. I’ve been going crazy thinking you don’t like me that I’ve been scared to tell you as well. But, since those feelings are out now, I’m going to kiss you since I’ve been dying to for the last three years.”

You laugh and nod, “Please.” At those words, Jack finally leans in to kiss you like his life depended on it.

#jack hughes #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #nhlhockey fic #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey fics

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anyasathenaeum · 9 months

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Not really nsfw but a crack-ish fic where Knives is trying to kidnap/threaten Vash's s/o and they just tell him "I fucked your brother, shitlips" and he starts arguing with them (they keep saying it) for at least 30 minutes until Vash shows up.

A/N: Okay this just made me burst into laughter, what a chaotic idea. I LOVE it. Sorry it's short but it's my first ever crack-fic

Warnings: MINORS DNI, Explicit mentions of sex, This is Absolutely Not Serious™, please enjoy chaos and Knives getting annoyed

"You will obey me, or else, I will-"

"You'll what? You won't do anything because jokes on you, I already slept with your brother," You immediately cut Knives off, grinning a bit maniacally at him.

Knives' eyes widened and he just stared at you for a moment.

"What?"

"I slept with your brother," You repeated, grinning even more maniacally. Despite you clearly being in a position of vulnerability, tied up and restrained, you were loving this and decided if you were gonna be unhinged, you would push the envelope as far as you could.

"You... what?"

Knives continued to just stare at you, confusion and lack of understanding clear in his pale eyes.

You let out a borderline-unhinged laugh, "What aren't you getting here, buddy? I. Slept. With. Your. Brother. I fucked Vash, which was amazing, by the way! I'm really glad we finally slept together, it took FOREVER for him to get the hint!"

Knives just rubbed his eyes with his hand and sighed exasperatedly, trying to keep himself calm and still maintain his intimidating facade, "As I was saying, you-"

"Fucked Vash, you betcha I did! Many times, actually!"

Oh, this was getting fun. You wanted to see how annoyed you could get Knives, partly out of the want to just frustrate and irritate him, and partly because you knew Vash would definitely be on his way to save you.

Knives scowled at you and just looked down at you as he got close to your face, anger clear in his features.

"Would you shut up about-"

"Fucking Vash? Never. And trust me, after the kind of sex we had? I'm NEVER shutting up about it ever again."

Knives let out an exasperated yell, "Are you kidding me?! Stop talking about sleeping with my brother!"

"Four times, Knives! Four orgasms in the span of ten minutes, I mean, what kind of man can pull that off?! It was impressive, I felt like I had no bones left in my body, and-"

"ENOUGH!"

Knives bellowed loud enough to actually silence for you, but it didn't wipe away the grin on your face. You couldn't help but stifle a laugh as you saw how red Knives' face was and how annoyed he was.

"What, jealous you aren't getting laid, Knives? I must say, the whole 'murdering the human race' vibe you've got going on might be the reason."

You couldn't believe you were pushing this far, but all your shame was out the window now - it was all or nothing at this point.

"I swear, if you don't stop talking about- about-," Knives spluttered angrily, but you immediately interjected before he could get too far.

"What? Sex? Are you so shy that you can't even say the word, Knives?" You teased mercilessly.

"Why are you two talking about sex?"

Both you and Knives turned to see Vash standing there, looking extremely confused and a bit of an amused expression on his face despite his gun being drawn.

"Get them out of my sight," Knives immediately snapped, just about throwing you across the room at Vash, "I give up. I never want to see them again, they're useless to me. Both of you, leave now, before they start talking about... about..."

"Sex?"

"OUT!"

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raisedbythetv89 · 26 days

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Listennnnn to be loved is to be seen

Buffy is SURROUNDED by people who project and project and project some more onto her without ever truly seeing her and just trying to force her to be whatever they want/need her to be often leaving her feeling used, abused, and lonely.

And so while yes on the surface the Buffy bot is icky as hell and obviously irl all of us would be rightfully horrified if that happened to us. This is fictional and with a still evil but trying to be good but with no human soul to help guide him on how to be good Spike - who has been rejected and is honoring that rejection and finding a solution to leave real Buffy alone by giving him a place to put all his feelings for Buffy somewhere that isn’t Buffy herself - programs her so well and therefore showing how well he sees and understands her!! NO ONE ELSE could have programmed that exact Buffy that was believable enough to fool her friends. So yes it’s twisted but this is a vampire falling in love with the slayer if you want completely healthy truly go elsewhere lololol but so the bot is used to show just how well Spike truly understands her and more importantly what he loves about her which given the partner she had right before this was Riley who VERY CLEARLY hated how strong she was and that she was the slayer…

spike is like SHE NEEDS A DEDICATED SLAYER FOLDER

HE PUT THE YEAR WILLOW CAME OUT IN HER BIO 😭😭😭😭 angel and riley truly could never in a million years pay close enough attention to the people in her life that Buffy cares about to add info like that

The choice of “make spike happy” instead of something like “pleasing spike” feels significant because it’s able to encompass a wider range of things including her care for her friends since that seems to be the active folder when she’s accessing information on them. Buffy caring about other people makes him happy even though he’s morally grey at best at this moment 😭 AND TWO KISSING PROGRAMS ARE THE VERY FIRST THINGS IN THAT FOLDER 😭😭😭 he doesn’t just “want to fuck her” like people try to claim he wants to love her 🥲 he wants her kisses like I’m gonna throw up from how disgustingly tender and heartbreaking that is

Buffy bot calls both her and Buffy very pretty and tells Giles he “should listen to the other Buffy because she’s very smart”. Spike made sure the Buffy bot was a Buffy that loved herself and valued her intelligence like I cannot even begin to tell you how NONE of this is your run of the mill making just a sex bot of your crush because not being able to have sex with them upsets you. He wants to love her because he knows she needs it as much as he wants to give it to her

We have this moment where Buffy bot has finally found Spike who she’s been looking for and worried about the whole time and seemingly only cares about him and no one else and she sees he’s SEVERELY injured yet when Giles calls for help Buffy bot responds at the same time as Buffy does and runs to his aide leaving Spike like she’s still just so BUFFY at her core even if the superficial aspects have been changed 😭

if we compare this moment to the one in something blue where xander calls out for help in the crypt in an IDENTICAL situation yet ACTUAL BUFFY just continues to make out with Spike when he’s not even injured at all 💀 like Spike didn’t even give Buffy bot the “extra love sick” component Buffy herself exhibits for him on multiple occasions 😭

and of course - WE END WITH THIS KISS AND THE WAY SHE’S FUCKING LOOKING AT HIM BRO 😩 she’s like holy shit he was for real when he said he loved me no one has ever done anything like this for me while simultaneously showing how COMPLETELY loyal and obsessed they are and how well they know and love all of me AND my sister like

‼️I CAN DEPEND ON HIM‼️

So close to death even Xander is feeling sympathy for him yet clocks IMMEDIATELY it’s her and she’s just like hi 🥹 yes it’s me, I really just did that. I see you and what you did for me. HAVE HOPE KEEP TRYING DONT GIVE UP.

If Buffy loves you she forgives you pretty easily and I personally think that’s what we’re seeing here with Spike like kissing him in the same ep she learns of the Buffy bot is low key CRAZY 😹 but truly people who have done less for her have done far worse!!! The bot kept dawn and tara from being taken instead and he proved he would protect both of them with his life and like she already loves him which is why she even went for the kiss she was like REALLY THE SITUATION CALLS FOR IT WHAT’S A GIRL TO DO 🤷🏼‍♀️

#this post all started literally just from noticing the gay 1999-present 💀#spuffy #embarassing freak couple #spike and buffy #spike x buffy #spuffy season 5

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xjustakay · 2 months

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✺ (3/10) ✺ @jegulus-microfic prompt: sugar — 1,146 words (jegulus dads ft. harry; when the five year old is on a sugar high)

Immediately upon getting home from his meeting, Regulus is aware that things have not gone to plan. James was meant to pick up Harry from his mums’, and the two of them were supposed to decide on dinner and their entertainment for the evening. They usually have a movie night together, the three of them, when Harry first comes back to theirs again, but it seems his husband and his son had other plans upon coming home.

Because they’re out in the backyard on the trampoline.

Regulus hears Harry’s loud laughter carrying from the back screen before he even has to check. Setting his keys aside, he makes his way to the door to the backyard. He stands there inside for a moment, helplessly fond as he watches where Harry sits cross-legged, looking up at James, waiting.

James bounces gently in place a short distance from where the five year old sits before launching himself to land on his feet closer beside him. It flings Harry a few inches off the trampoline’s surface, his little limbs flailing as he shrieks excitedly. He flops flat onto his back afterward, lost in a string of giggles that ends up turning into ‘again, again, again!’

Two peas in a pod, James laughs with him, then reaches with both hands to tow Harry back up in his previous position. Before James can properly send him bouncing as he had moments prior, both of their heads whip in the direction of the sliding screen door when Regulus opens it to step outside.

“Papa!” Harry smiles widely, waving over at him with both hands. “Papa, watch this! Daddy can make me fly.”

“Oh, he can, can he?” Regulus smirks, coming off the patio onto the grass near the trampoline.

Harry nods and looks up at James. “Show him, daddy.”

Despite the fact that he’d just witnessed it moments ago before joining them, Regulus plays along, pretending to be awed by the way James jumps and causes Harry to bounce up off the trampoline. Again, Harry giggles for several seconds, cheeks rosy and smile unrelenting as he rolls from being flopped on his back onto his belly.

“You gotta try it, papa,” Harry tells him. “Daddy’s been doing it for ages now and it’s so fun every time.”

Regulus chuckles with a slow shake of his head. “Where’s all this energy coming from, I wonder?”

“Cookies!” Harry answers immediately, squirming up onto his knees.

One dark brow arches, Regulus’ eyes shifting to James who has the decency to look momentarily sheepish under the questioning look.

“Cookies before dinner?” He asks pointedly.

“I can explain,” James starts.

“Mama was making a whole bunch of them and mum sent me here with a big plate to share with you and daddy,” Harry explains for him.

“So, really, that look should be reserved for Pandora and Lily, my love,” James chimes in.

Regulus smiles tightly, head cocking to the side. “I’m sure you’d prefer that.”

James grimaces faintly and clambers off the trampoline, out through the zip-up mesh opening that keeps the edges screened in, to come to Regulus’ side. A large hand falls at his waist, Regulus still managing to look sternly up at him even when James leans down to kiss his cheek. He clearly has been humoring their son for a while, because he’s flushed and a little sweaty, slightly out of breath and so warm at Regulus’ side.

“You know how hard it is to get him to settle down when he’s had too much sugar,” Regulus points out.

“I know, I’m sorry.” James smooths his hand along his lower back in a continuous motion.

Regulus hums, gaze drifting to where Harry half-runs, half-bounces around the full circle of the trampoline. “How many did you let him have?”

“Just one, I swear.” James follows his line of sight, stepping even nearer to him to curl his arm around his waist. “But he did mention that Pandora had been letting him help in the kitchen, and you know that means—”

“Licking all the spoons.”

“And handfuls of chocolate chips. Ah, and some of them are frosted, even, so uh… icing taste tests, too.”

“Great.” Regulus shakes his head. “This has to be some kind of payback for when we brought him and Luna back to theirs after all that cake and candy at Ron’s birthday party.”

James chuckles and squeezes gently at his side. “He’ll crash soon enough, surely.”

“I assumed that’s why you brought him out here in the first place,” Regulus says.

“It was either that, or his suggestion to build a pillow fort pirate ship in the living room. I felt this was less jarring for you to come home to.”

Regulus watches as Harry does a quick somersault only to spring back to his feet, bounce twice in place, and purposely land on his bum with another bounce. He laughs breathlessly, adjusting glasses knocked askew by the impact, and Regulus can’t help but huff a quiet laugh of his own. Hopped up on sugar as he may be, Harry’s joy is never a thing Regulus takes for granted. Even in the silliest of moments —if not especially then.

“You’re going to sleep like babies tonight,” Regulus comments.

“Probably true.”

“After a solid bath time because you’re both so gross right now.”

James snorts, giving a tilted nod of his head in agreement. “Fair.”

“Have to figure out dinner still, too.”

“We could order a pizza to make things easy?” James suggests. When Regulus nods in reply, he nods, too. “I can stay out here and help him run off some more of the sugar high if you want to go ring it in?”

“No, I’ll watch him. You go inside and get yourself some water before you pass out or something,” Regulus teases.

“I’m fine, thank you. I’m in excellent shape,” James scoffs. Lower, just for him, he murmurs, “A fact you’re very well aware of, my love.”

He punctuates the playful remark by nipping gently at the edge of Regulus’ jaw. Regulus bats him away, lips twitching upward in a smile that couldn’t be held back even if he tried.

“Heathen,” He mutters.

“That’s me. Your heathen husband.” James smacks an overdramatic kiss to Regulus’ cheek this time before separating.

Harry hops up closer to the trampoline’s edge, hands braced carefully on the outside net to ask, “What’s a heathen, papa?”

Regulus hears James laugh loudly behind him on his way inside.

He shakes his head, grinning fondly as he looks back at Harry. “Don’t worry about that, darling. Why don’t you show me how your cartwheels are coming, hm?”

Harry brightens immediately, nodding and leaping backward. “Okay! Make sure you’re watching the whole time!”

Nothing else in the world seems more worth Regulus’ time than watching their boy be so happy. Riled up on sugar or otherwise.

#jegulus #jegulus microfic #starchaser #sunseeker #jeggy dads feels never let me down #also brought to you by my 5 y/o niece being so easily amused/distracted by the simplest of things when she’s hyper #+ also how i joke about winding her up on sugar before taking her back to her mom lmao #anyway #love jeggy and baby harry sooo much #sweet little silly loving family<3 #kay’s microfics #kay’s writing #jeggy dads series

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sweetsreverie · 9 months

Note

could you write a drabble where darry’s girlfriend is totally adored by the rest of the boys and she’s almost motherly to them?

bro... thank you for planting this idea in my head ♡︎

pairing: darry curtis x f!reader wc: 972 warnings/notes: none

You met Darry six months ago while you were at the grocery store. You were clearly having trouble trying to reach something on the top shelf and he offered to help you, retrieving the item and handing it to you with a charming, kind smile. The two of you ended up talking in the spice aisle for nearly ten minutes before you both realized that you had places to be. Darry had scribbled his home phone number on your grocery list before leaving. Since then, you mostly saw him on the weekends when he wasn’t working, or on the rare occasion that he wasn’t totally exhausted after work, you would see him for dinner.

It took a while for him to introduce you to his brothers, and eventually the rest of their little gang. But when he did, he came to notice that the boys treated you differently than anyone else. They seemed to respect you, and they didn’t really pick on you or mess with you like they did other people. That was also partially because you seemed to take care of them, and honestly you didn’t even think much of it. You just found yourself doing little things for them here and there. It started with you cleaning up Darry’s work boots one night, and then you ironed Sodapop’s work shirt one day while he was running late for work, and you’ve helped Ponyboy with his homework on multiple occasions when he was struggling through his math homework.

It made Darry’s heart swell, especially when you took care of Ponyboy and Soda. Ever since their mom died, they haven’t had a female, or even somewhat of a motherly figure in their life. Darry could be tough on them, so having your gentle nature around was almost comforting for them.

Today you had the day off of work so you spent some time at the Curtis’ house. Darry was working so you tried to clean up the place to take it off of his shoulders. Besides, you sometimes spent the night with Darry and ate dinner with them, so you figure you might as well pull your own weight and treat the place as your own.

“You know Y/N, this ain’t even your house. You don’t have to clean up after us.” Pony says while he sits on the couch and Johnny sits on the floor near the coffee table, and the two of them were playing ‘go fish’.

“Well- I stay here enough and eat enough of yall’s food, I might as well. And I don’t want Darry to have to worry about it when he gets back from work.” You explain as you wipe down the kitchen table with a damp cloth.

Ponyboy smiles softly at that before he looks down at the cards in his hand. “Well… I know that Darry really appreciates it. He probably don’t show it or say it, but… I know he does.” Pony tells you with a little nod.

“I just know he’s got a lot on his plate, and I don’t see you boys helping him clean up much.” You say, the teasing tone clear in your voice while you grin over at Pony. Pony’s expression turns sheepish immediately, and Johnny even chuckles at your playful scolding.

Later that evening when Darry comes home, you stand in the kitchen with him while you two wait for dinner to finish cooking. After a few moments, Darry turns to you as you’re leaning against the counter.

“You know, Ponyboy told me you scolded him like a mother today.” Darry says, and you groan and shake your head.

“I did not! I was just messing with him-” You insist, and Darry laughs.

“He knows that, doll face. I just… think it’s funny. You really do take care of us.” Darry says with a little smile while he reaches for your hand.

You think about it for a second, and you realize that you really do take care of these boys.

“Well… you’re my boys. And someone’s gotta keep some order around here.” You tell Darry with a grin. You hear the front door open, and you poke your head out from around the doorway to see Sodapop and Steve.

“Aht aht, don’t bring them dirty boots in the house. Leave ‘em on the porch.” You tell the two of them, and Ponyboy laughs as they turn back around and begin to take their boots off on the porch.

When you turn back to Darry in the kitchen, the man is just grinning from ear to ear.

“What were you saying about keeping order around here?” He asks jokingly and you can’t help but laugh.

“Hell, even Dally listens to you. You must have instilled some kinda fear in him or something.”

You laugh at that and shake your head, and you move closer to Darry so you’re tucked in his side.

“But… really. Ever since our folks passed, Pony and Soda haven’t really had… a woman to care for them, or like.. A mother figure. If you know what I mean.” Darry tries to explain, and you nod while giving him a little smile.

“I understand, Darry. Really- and… I’m happy to be that for them. I know I can never replace your mom, and I don’t want to- but… I’m happy to look after them. I know it's hard for you to do on your own.” You explain to Darry, and he lets out a quiet sigh while he looks down at you with an expression of admiration.

“Have I ever told you that I love you?” Darry asks, and you laugh softly.

“Yeah. Once or twice I think.” You tease him lightly before the two of you carry on with making dinner before the boys in the living room start getting too rowdy.

#the outsiders imagine #the outsiders one shot #the outsiders oneshot #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders #darry curtis x reader #darrel curtis x reader

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moonpetrichors-blog · 1 year

Note

can i request for enemies to lovers for neteyam ?? love ur work sm !!

First Impressions

Tags: Neteyam x Metkayina!Reader, Heacanons, Enemies To Lovers, Female!Reader, Anguished Declarations of Love, Reader is Kinda Mean, Forced Proximity

Warnings: None

You are another daughter of Ronal and Tonowari. When the Sully family shows up on your shores, you immediately dislike their eldest son; Neteyam.

Tysm ♥♥ Lucky for you, this was already in a list of things I wanted to write!! Great minds think alike fr 🤝🙄

* ˚ ✦ Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [26/12/22] ❞

He was like no one else you had seen before.

He was a boy from the Omaticaya clan, a foreign stranger who had no business to be seeking refuge on your beaches.

After all, he was clearly suited for swinging in trees, not swimming.

You had heard of the fabled Jake Sully; the Toruk Makto, and as of right now, referred to as a great warrior by none other than Neytiri.

They had travelled a far distance to seek shelter with your people, so that their clan could be safe.

You were against allowing him and his family to hide within the Awa'atlu village. Danger would follow them, and they did not fit in with your people nor the environment.

Alas, you had no power to defy the orders of your father, Tonowari, as he was the Olo'eyktan.

Imagine your surprise when your father, not only simply allowing them to stay, also expected you and your siblings to teach them your ways.

You groaned at the thought, not wanting to spend time with these people or their children.

After their initial introduction, their eldest son Neteyam attempted to get to know you.

However, his kind demeanor towards you quickly turned sour when you made it transparently clear you wanted nothing to do with him.

‘The hell is wrong with you?’ is what Neteyam would think.

You both would want to avoid each other, but unfortunately, that’s not really possible.

He does try to be civil when he can, though. Neteyam has a backbone and won’t let anyone walk all over him, but he’s not like Lo’ak where he’ll freely start fights.

His father warned not to cause problems, and he doesn’t want him to be disappointed in him.

Your sister Tsireya had taken a liking to the younger son, Lo’ak, which meant you were stuck with teaching Neteyam.

So here you were with Tsireya, teaching the two brothers breathing exercises.

You were getting frustrated with Neteyam. His breathing wasn’t on par with your expectations, and time and time again you would smack him (lightly, of course) if he wasn’t doing it right.

“Here, do it like this!” frustrated, you placed your hands on his chest and abdomen. “Breathe like this!”

You took deep breaths through the diaphragm, then gestured your head for Neteyam to do it next.

Well, he wasn’t breathing through his chest anymore, but his heart was definitely going a mile a minute with you being so hands-on with him.

Just when you thought he was finally getting the hang of it, he smacked your hands off of him and said he can do it himself.

You tsked, and decided that if he wants to drown, he can. “Whatever, asshole.”

The next thing you tried to teach him about was riding the ilu and performing tsaheylu with it.

You honestly weren’t expecting much from him, you knew that it would take awhile before he could actually do so.

And you were right. The moment he started gliding underwater, he was thrown off the ilu’s back.

You remained in place treading the water, bursting into laughter at his falling form. This guy really doesn’t know what he’s doing 💀

When Neteyam meets with you again, his face is red with embarrassment. You can’t contain your laughter, and he has to remind himself to stay calm and not yell in a fit of rage.

A few days pass, and Tsireya and Aonung decide to go swimming with Kiri, Lo’ak, and Neteyam.

Tsireya urged for you to come along, and you agreed, because how could you say no to your sister?

As you are swimming, you have to slow down for Neteyam. You were quite irate with the fact that he couldn’t keep up, trading looks with Aonung occasionally.

As you kept swimming, Neteyam was in awe with the underwater scenery.

The schools of fish, bright coral, and the way the light refracted in the ocean made him amazed. He couldn’t believe that he had never seen something so beautiful before.

And then, he looked at you.

The scenery really tied everything together; being surrounded by a vast, blue world, you were like the centerpiece of an artfully woven painting.

It was in this moment that Neteyam really took in your beauty. He thought you were pretty since the first time he laid eyes on you.

But of course, you didn’t like him, so he quickly picked up the memo and forgot all about those thoughts of you.

Almost.

Neteyam was so distracted from daydreaming about you, that he forgot his breathing exercises instead.

You turn around to see him flailing in the water, and start panicking because he’s literally about to drown.

You quickly swam over, wrapped your arms around his waist, and hauled him up to the surface.

You start slapping his face, shaking him by the shoulders to breathe.

He’s coughing and sputtering now, muttering a thank you.

His near-drowning experience is swiftly forgotten when he processes the fact that you basically saved him.

At this point he’s making fun of you because you came to his rescue, and Tsireya and Aonung are not too far behind him either.

Angrily, you shove his head underwater, and swim away.

Later on, when it is well over eclipse, you push a stick through the sand to make stupid drawings.

Neteyam creeps up behind you, and you almost whack him with your stick when he sits down besides you.

“The hell do you want?”

He recoils at your attitude. Neteyam wanted to properly thank you for your help earlier that day, but it seemed now that all hint of gratitude left his body.

“What’s wrong with you?” is what he ends up saying.

You promptly begin to argue. Honestly, you didn’t really have a good reason for being so mean to him all the time.

In all honesty, you did find him kind of cute at first, but worrying about the safety of your clan overpowered that more than anything.

You would never admit this though. Instead, you scoop up a handful of sand, and throw it at him.

Neteyam’s patience completely snaps. He has tried to be cordial with you in the past, but that was it.

He tackles you to the ground, and fighting between the two of you ensued.

“You’re so rude for no reason!”

“What’s it to you?”

You’re both practically yelling at this point as you wrestle on the sand.

Out of sheer anger, Neteyam did something he’s never done before. Make an impulsive decision.

In response to you, he blurted out that he likes you, but you’re such a massive asshole to him that it makes him furious!

You aren’t any smarter than him, and reply with the exact same confession.

You both paused.

Neteyam was leaning over you, hands by either side of your head. All his anger had disappeared. Was this guy smiling??

Your face flushed with embarrassment that you had actually admitted that to him. You wanted the sand beneath you to swallow you whole.

You tried to back up, but found yourself trapped between Neteyam and, well... the sand.

Your about to start yelling again when he places a featherlight kiss against your lips, and that’s when your face erupts into a violent blush.

You can’t hide your face from him, which makes him all the more amused.

“Okay, fine. I guess you’re kind of cute...” you trailed off.

He let out a toothy grin, sharp canines on display. “I always thought you were.”

Okay, now you really wanted to be six feet underground.

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Text

NCIS // Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw knows when his soon to be wife shows up randomly on Friday evening at the Hard Deck it can’t be good. But just how bad could things really be, right?

Warnings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x NCIS reader. Angst, Fluff. A little bit of action.

Word Count: 8.2k

Author Note: I’m glad you all had such a positive response to this idea. Here’s a one shot to say thank you for being absolute legends. Might even be open to doing more if this does well.

“What’s got you all twisted?” Rooster smirked as he watched Hangman glare down the pool table. Missing his shot by a mile. The usual confidence ridden aviator had seemingly shrunk into a hermit style shell for the last half an hour or so. Rooster had walked in half way through the game. Settling into his surroundings with a beer and a side of fries on the way.

Hangman didn’t even bother with a response, simply ignoring the question all together as he lined up another shot at redemption.

“Oh he tried to make a move on the civ sitting at the bar—she really knocked him down a peg.” Javy tried to hide his content. He always enjoyed when his best friend learnt a lesson or two. Not everyone was obsessed with Jake Hangman Seresin—and quite frankly? Sometimes he needed to be humbled. And humble Hangman you did indeed.

“Which one?” Rooster asked as he turned around, his eyes immediately landing on you as you sat by yourself. Content with the beer in front of you. Clearly working a case. “You know what? Never mind—I already have a gut feeling.” Finishing the rest of the beer Hangman had so graciously ordered last round, Rooster really did try and play it cool as he took strides to get to you. Trying to bury the fact if he had to he’d move goddamn mountains to get to you. His best friend. His fiancé. None of the team knew about Bradley Bradshaw's love life. He hadn’t found the right time to introduce you to the squad. His colleagues, friends. He was trying to, honestly. But with your line of work? It was becoming increasingly hard to pin you down.

As Rooster made his way over to you by the bar. Pushing past people who got in his way absentmindedly—you spotted him. Sending him a smirk that he’d missed seeing in person. FaceTime just didn’t do your beauty justice. Looking at your fiancé so helplessly stunned for only a split second before you forced yourself to remain calm. Rooster thought back to the first time he met you.

You hated being on carriers. For an NCIS agent, being aboard was a big part of your job description. It was something that couldn't be avoided, although you really did try. It wasn't that you weren't good on ships or got nauseous from the motion of the ocean, no. It was something far less exhilarating than throwing up at any given moment in front of whoever had fallen victim to the sight of your breakfast, lunch and or dinner making a quick escape.

It was the fact you never knew where on earth you were fucking going. And that really sucked.

Bradley Bradshaw had seen you going around in circles for the last forty five minutes. He’d been watching you from a distance. First he saw you when he was going over his Super Hornet. Checking its systems, the landing gear, the tags. All the good stuff. Then he saw you in the galley, looking confused and almost overwhelmed with the amount of crew that had filled in for dinner. And the last time Rooster saw you before he decided enough was enough? Was when he saw you heading down towards the engine room… What the hell were you doing? Were you–lost?

“Ma’am you aren’t lost are you?” Bradley Bradshaw considered himself a confident man when it came to talking to women, but for a moment you made it hard to formulate another sentence when you turned around to face him. Completely knocking the wind out of him with the way you looked so helplessly stunned. “Because if you are, I'm more than happy to help.” Yep. That was the moment Bradley Bradshaw knew he wanted you in his life.

“I'm good, thanks.” Shrugging the sailor off, it wasn't that you didn't want help. You just had too much pride to admit you were in fact. Lost. Rooster watched with an all knowing smirk as you turned around, heading straight to what he knew to be a deadend towards the laundry room. Unless that was what you had been looking for the entire time? Bradley knew you would have to pivot your way back past him. Opting to stay put, leaning against the hull with his arms crossed waiting for you to make your appearance.

Which you inevitably had to do because you were fucking lost. Sending the sailor with the cute smirk a look when you met him back where he stood originally. Stopping right next to Bradley as he smirked down at you. All Knowing.

“Okay, so maybe I am lost.” He smelt of pear and freesia. The delectable fresh scent that could be bottled and sold. It reminded you of home. “I'm looking for my room, 507.” Bradley raised his eyebrows in disbelief. Had you been wondering the entirety of the carrier trying to look for the dorms and bunks and hadn’t bothered to stop and ask a single soul for help. “The captain said my stuff had already been dropped off but I'm so disorientated.”

“First time on a carrier ma’am?” Rooster asked kindly as he walked with you in the complete opposite direction to where you had originally been going. Huh, you really were lost.

“Would you believe me if I said no?” Rooster chuckled quietly to himself at your response. “No, I do this more often than not, I should be used to this whole, ant hill.” You tried to explain as you walked side by side, not really in a hurry to get where you were going. Rooster couldn't have known you were NCIS. You were just in your blue jeans, white T and oversized corduroy jacket. There was nothing about you that screamed, ‘Hey I’m a federal agent, stop drop and put your damn hands up.’ “But I do prefer frigates, the occasional patrol boat.”

“So what brought you aboard the HMAS Carlton?” Rooster wasn’t expecting the answer you gave him. From time to time the Navy would accompany researchers and scientists to remote islands, he just assumed perhaps you were the latest one. But no.

“Uh, I’m here making sure that Clarence Diver who was stung by that group of Irukandji jellyfish was just that.” There were some suspicious toxins found in his bloodstream. “I’m Special Agent Y/n Gibbs with the NCIS.” Oh my fucking Christ Rooster was sure he was going into cardiac arrest. Why did you have to be NCIS? “Nice to meet you—“ Clearing your thirst as you paused in your stride. Sticking your hand out to shake the sailors hand who’d stopped to help you.

“Uh Bradley ma’am, Bradley Bradshaw.” Rooster stuck his hand out to meet yours. “Everyone calls me Rooster—“ You weren’t sure when Rooster had dropped your hand, or when you had started walking again. But you had. Side by side.

“Let me guess, you some kinda of cadet? A semen perhaps?” This was Rooster's first posting on a carrier. He was fresh out of the academy and had been abroad for six months. You had a glint in your eye, something worth exploring even though the idea of pursuing a Naval Criminal Investigation Agent scared the ever living Christ out of him.

“I uh—I fly an F-18 Agent Gibbs, I’m a Naval Aviator.” He was so proud of himself. I mean who else was around to be proud of him? So he had to be, for his own sanity. Stopping right in front of the door that read 507. “Guess this is where I leave you—“ news flash, it wasn't. Instantly smitten by the way you softly nodded in response. Pressing your lips together with a small frown.

“Yeah I guess it is huh?” Silence lingered for a moment as you worked up the courage to ask Rooster to hang around. Making up a totally fabricated but believable excuse he’d later find out was all so you could spend a little more time with him. “But now I’ve got no idea how to get back to the galley and I seem to have a pretty good tour guide.”

“Special Agent Gibbs, what on earth are you doing here?” Rooster taunted your official title as he slung his arm around your shoulders. Slumped over the bar as your eyes scanned the bar like a Hawk. “Heard you put Hangman in his place?”

“What the hell is a Hangman?” Your hand came up to grab Roosters softly, your thumb softly working to massage his palm. Turning your head to gently leave a subtle yet lingering kiss on his knuckles. “Oh wait—“ You remembered from conversations you’d had with Bradley in the past. “He’s the guy right, the super cocky one?” Clicking your fingers and squeezing your eyes tight as you tried to place a name to a call sign. “Jack, No—Jake!” Beaming, Bradley kissed your temple.

The sight of Bradshaw and you hitting it off so well sent Jake into a fit. Until he realised you must have been the girl Rooster had been talking about after the uranium mission. The one he wasn’t going to let get away.

“Woah look at you go detective, case closed in a whole minute.” Bradley taunted as he stood beside your barstool. “But seriously, as good as it is to see you here—you can’t be here for something good, it’s Friday baby—“ It was true. Usually wherever you ended up in the United States or on any US naval vessel didn’t usually come with good tidings. The Hard Deck in Miramar was no exception to that rule.

“You know that body that washed up about a week ago a few clicks up the beach?” You mumbled into the neck of your beer bottle as you brought it to your lips. Taking a small sip. “Intelligence believes the man responsible for that is here—and of course where else is there to go in Fraightertown but the most popular hang out point?”

“And you didn't bother to let me know you were coming?” Rooster teased as his hand slipped up your side, featherlike. Leaving goosebumps to rise in the wake of his fingertips. “Could’ve used the heads up.”

“Why? Need a change of pants, Lieutenant?’ It was the way you implied you so easily got Rooster where he needed to be that had his head spinning. You weren't wrong and he surely was feeling a little more restricted. But how could he not be when you were looking so fine. “Pretty sure I've got a pair of tracksuit pants in my carry on that might fit–might be pushing it though.” Winking as you took another sip of your beer. “Think they're grey even–” Roosters hand brushed against your hip. His eyes widened quickly at the realisation. Holy shit you were packing?

“You don’t have a gun in here do you?” Patting your shoulders, Bradley let his hands travel down your back, your gun Halsted. “Shit—you can’t bring a gun in here!!” Rooster's eyes bugged out of his head even more as he sat down beside you on the empty bar stool. “You gonna pepper the place or something? what the hell!” Guns always made Rooster a little uneasy and uncomfortable. But you were still caught up on his first statement.

“You know I’m a federal agent right?” Reminding your soon to be husband of your career choice. “I can bring a gun anywhere I damn please—“ Not that you would, but the idea that you could always did something weird to Rooster. Mentally and sexually.

“You scare the shit out of me.” He should have corrected himself, it wasn’t you that scared him. It was your damn job. Everyone he’d ever met had always told him what he did for a living had to be frightening. But you? Something about the way you so effortlessly did your job without a care in the world, blasé and effective? That scared Rooster. That was terrifying.

“Then leave me to do my job.” Rooster wrapped his leg around one of the legs of your bar stool. Dragging you closer to where he sat. He needed to be closer, needed you closer. “Rooster, honey—I’m in the middle of something here.” You played it off that Rooster was being an annoyance, but really? You loved the cat and mouse dynamic you always had. Loved him with all your heart.

“You got back up in here?” Bradley’s voice softened as his eyes trailed from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes. Drinking in the sight of you. It was out of worry that he asked, a deep rooted concern for your well-being. “I’m not leaving this stool if you don’t have back up.”

“DiNozzo is by the jukebox.” Tilting your head Dinozzo’s way Bradley followed the direction you had pointed him in. A small wave of peace lapping at his heart. “I’m fine Roo, you don’t have to worry about me—“ You were about to mention the van out the front that held more agents, but Rooster didn't let you finish before he was interrupting.

“Doesn’t stop me though.” Rooster was quick to quip, leaning in closer to kiss your forehead as you ducked to hide your smirk. Cheeks heating with the love that flooded your system. “Worry about you all the time.”

You and Rooster had been together for a total of three weeks when he first got a real glimpse into just how dangerous your job could really be. How it so easily threatened to take you away from him. He’d been called to TopGun. An elite school for the top one percent of pilots. Its purpose was to teach the lost art of aerial combat and to ensure that the handful of men and women who graduated were the best fighter pilots in the world.

As Rooster went about his day, training exercise after the other—Admirial Bates was calling him down with urgency.

“Theres someone on the line for you calling from the Veterans affair’s medical centre—“ Rooster couldn’t place that hospital geographically until Warlock continued. “Seems as though your a registered emergency contact for a Y/n Gibbs?” Washington, that’s where the Veterans affairs hospital was.

“Uh—yeah.” Rooster couldn’t think straight. “I'm clear for landing?” He asked range control before he made any effort to turn around. With a confirmed green light Rooster headed in. He was in the administration building of the base in no time. His chest panting. A thin layer of sweat on his forehead. Panic rising to the surface as he held the phone to his ear.

“This is Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw—“

“Hi Bradley, I’m just calling to let you know we’ve had a miss Gibbs present to the emergency department with a bullet wound to her left thigh—“ Rooster swore he forgot how to breathe as his knuckles went white as the sheer hip he held around the phone. “She’s had to go in for surgery but we’re incredibly hopeful it’s a set standard procedure, just need to remove some of the shrapnel that broke apart.”

“Can you get her to call me when she’s out?” All he wanted to do was hear your voice. “Is she okay?” When did he start crying? Why were his cheeks wet? Blinking away the tears that still threatened to spill over his waterline.

“Absolutely—” The admin assistant chuckled to herself, remembering how reluctant you’d been. “She walked herself in very reluctantly.” Rooster rolled his eyes at the thought of you not taking care of yourself. Of fucking course you’d shug this off as no big deal. “An older man brought her in, signed as Anthony DiNozzo?” That checked out, he’d been your partner since you transferred to your dads division. “Shes in good spirits and good hands, should be out shortly–ill get her to give you abuzz when she's out and feeling a little less dazed.”

That's exactly what the nurse had done. Once you were feeling up to it you called Bradley from your cell. Sitting alone in your hospital room–they wanted to keep you in overnight for observation. You understood, but home just seemed like a much better place to be. Besides, you still had work to do.

“Are you alright? What the hell happened!?” Rooster bellowed into his phone as he sat on the bench in the locker room, he was just finishing up for the day.

“Hi baby, nice to hear your voice too–” You taunted with a slight groan as you tried to move your leg out from under the lightweight blanket. “Im fine, just need to work on my reflexes a little.”

“You were shot Y/n I think you need to work on more than your reflexes, perhaps your proximity to people who want to kill you?” Rooster didn't mean to snap at you, he was just worried. “Since when am I your emergency contact anyway? I thought it would have been your dad or something?”

“Well I mean if you don't wanna be I can change it?” Your tone had softened as you looked down at your leg, wondering how differently this conversation would have been going if that bullet had hit you somewhere else. Or if this conversation would be happening at all. “I just thought you might wanna be.”

“No I do–” Bradley paused for a moment as he swallowed the lump in his chest. “I just worry about you.” He knew that when he first met you you were only a rooky, that you'd get assigned mundane cases that weren't all that life threatening and serious. Like the Irukandji jellyfish guy who'd been doing drugs onboard the Carlton. But as the years went on and you gained more confidence and experience, the less and less you were assigned the meek role of crossing T’s and dotting i’s. You were a full blown field agent and until the moment Bradley Bradshaw got the call to say you'd been injured? He hadnt really put alot of thought into it. “I guess I just never really thought enough about how dangerous your job had become.”

“Says the one who's currently learning the art of aerial combat and defensive manoeuvres.” Yep, you had him there. Rooster knew his job was dangerous, he’d learnt to accept that a long time ago, as did you. Even when you had just been close friends you had to accept the fact Bradley might get deployed somewhere and not come home. But yours had kinda crept up on him. He’d never had to process that kind of worry before. Never knew how gut wrenching the feeling could be. He now knew what his mother had meant when the sick feeling just never really went away. The constant fear that lived rent free in the back of her mind about his dad, about him. “Listen Bradshaw, I'm fine– you don't gotta worry about me.”

“Doesn’t stop me though.” Rooster was quick to quip, leaning his back against his locker willing the moment he could wrap his arms around you to come sooner. He’s asked Admiral Bates for a compassionate leave of absence to go be with you. But he was told unless someone was dead or dying he could very much forget that he even asked. “I’ll worry about you all the time.”

“I can assure you, I know what I'm doing, Bradshaw.” Sitting back upright as you pulled away, finishing the rest of your beer in one final swig. “DiNozzo I can't quite speak on behalf of.” Your tone confused as your eyes followed the direction he was hastily walking, following a man across the length of the Hard Deck. Hot on his tail. His hand going to ghost his holster as he pushed past people who flocked in his way. “Oh fuck hang on–” Jumping to your feet in an instant as you watched the man DiNozzo had identified as Bodmin wrap his arm around the neck of one of the Naval Aviators sitting peacefully at one of the round tables. Rooster felt sick to his stomach as he stood, unable to comprehend what was going on. What had poor Bob done to be brought into this. Dragged to his feet as his hands came up to grasp the man's forearms. A gun to his temple quickly escalated the situation ten fold. “NCIS DROP YOUR WEAPON!!” Shouting as you drew your weapon from your hoster, holding it at eye height. “I said drop your weapon!!” Jake Seresin had been taken aback by only a few things in his life– this? Oh this took the goddamn cake. Bradshaw with an NCIS Agent? Never in a million years did he think that man had that kinda game.

“I DIDN'T KILL THAT MAN–” Bob swore he saw his life flash before his very eyes as he stood trapped between you and the man who had him by the next with the barrel of his gun pressing against his temple. Fear evident in his eyes. “I DIDN'T HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.” Well of course you did? Why else would you pull a gun out in the middle of a heavily populated bar and take a person hostage? Your inner thoughts didn’t match your next sentence, you needed to gain this guy's trust before there was brain matter splattered across the nice hardwood floor that probably had some historical value to it.

“That's great man, really–why don't we just have a bit of a chat about it, yeah?” Trying to deescalate the situation the best you could as you took a single step forward. Slowly and every so carefully. “I mean if you weren't involved you're pretty much a free man, why ruin that shooting this guy huh?” Rooster wanted to reach out and grab you. Stop you from getting any closer, fighter every fibre of his being that told him to protect you. His eyes welled with tears, mixing with fear and adrenaline as he turned his head slightly to where Hangman and Coyote stood in complete stillness—both trying just as hard as Rooster to comprehend the situation unfolding.

Shit like this didn’t happen at the fucking Hard Deck.

“I don’t fucking trust you!” You could very much tell this guy was losing his mind. Quickly. Making a rash decision to gain his trust immediately. Rooster watched from behind as you put your hands up in surrender. Your finger pushing the safety on your handgun before the clip fell to the ground.

“What about now?” Slowly but surely crouching as you placed the handgun on the ground, your eyes never for a second leaving Bob's eyes.

“Gibbs—“ DiNozzo gave you a warning look. Clearly unimpressed by your actions. Reckless and dangerous. Standing off to the right behind the man who had Bob hostage, his gun still drawn.

“I’m unarmed.” Standing just as slowly as you had crouched. Your hands came back to the height of your head. Palms facing the man. “Let’s talk, but first you gotta let him go—“

“Uh uh, not a chance sweetheart.” Damn. It was worth a shot right? The man, Daniel Bodmin had been identified as one of the men who’d been out finishing with marine Author Avery. He’d washed ashore five days after being reported missing when a storm hit off the coast of San Diago. It seemed pretty set standard until autopsy results came back that Avery had ingested five hundred grams of cocaine in small plastic bags. That mixed with the twenty four thousand dollars sim cash found stashed behind the backboard of one of the seats on the fishing boat made it suspiciously suspect Avery may have been killed. The smell of foul play in the air. “The second I don’t have leverage, you're partner here is gonna put a bullet in my spine.”

“I’m pretty tempted to just do it anyway—“ DiNozzo piped up as he eyes down the suspect. “I’m a pretty good shot.” It was your turn to send him the same warning look he’d given you. Your hands still up beside your head in surrender as you took another slow hesitant step forward. Rooster couldn’t breathe.

“Okay so I’ll make a trade, you let him go—and you take me. That way we can talk, just you and me. Outside.”

“NO!” Rooster shouted as he took a step towards you, his chest pressed against your back before you knew what was happening. “No way.”

“Lieutenant Bradshaw so help me god if you don’t step back this second I’ll have you arrested for interfering with a federal investigation.” It absolutely pained you to say but if Bradley wasn’t going to stand down you were going to make him one way or the other. “Go stand with Jake—“

“Y/n don’t do this!“ Leaning over your shoulder to whisper through gritted teeth, Bradley begged you, the love of his life—not to do this. “I can’t lose you too.”

“I will cuff you to the pool table if I have to—“ It was tough love, sure. But you needed to do your damn job before Bob or anyone else for that matter got hurt. “Go, now.” The tone you used had gone to a new level of seriousness, you weren’t messing around. If need be, you’d cuff Bradley Bradshaw to that pool table and leave him there if that meant he was out of your way. If it meant you could do your damn job.

With hesitance and his tail between his legs, Rooster backed away slowly. Eyeing off the man who had Bob by the next and a gun pressed to his temple. There would surely be an indent by the time he was let go. Hands up surrender style—Rooster made his way over to where Hangman and Coyote stood dumbfounded.

“Are your eyes glued to your head or some shit man?” Javy hissed as Rooster stood beside him. “The fuck is wrong with you!?”

“She’s the love of my life, man.” You couldn’t blame Rooster for acting in your defence. It was in his inherent nature to protect the ones he loved so deeply, tenderly and oh so fiercely. “My whole god damn world.” He’d never been so scared to lose you before this very moment. The fallout of the uranium mission had him racing across the west coast of the country all the way to Washington where you were based. Knowing he came an inch to losing his life. Far too many times to count. On the way back Rooster had confided in Hangman for a brief moment. Mentioning that there had been a girl, a girl so fierce and loving and kind that he couldn't help but to wonder how you'd mourn him. He didn't mention specific things like how long you’d know each other or how long you two had been dating. Rooster didn't mention what you did for work or even how he’d had his mothers engagement ring resized off another ring he’d stolen from your jewellery stand.

Rooster had simply told Jake Seresin that for a moment there if he hadn’t come after him and Pete? There would have been a heartbroken soul at his funeral. A woman so willing to pray for him, take his pain for him, save his soul from himself. Bradley Bradshaw had always been the one left behind, but that day he almost left you. And he wasn't ready to do that without having made it one thousand percent clear that you were the love of his life. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

“Bradley? What–what are you doing here?” You questioned as he came through your front door. The key you'd gifted him nestled nicely in between all his other keys. Standing from your stop on the lounge–Youd been curled up watching Criminal Minds. “I thought you weren't supposed to be home for a few more days?” Taking massive strides to get to you Bradly simply engulfed you in a warm embrace. Hugging you so tightly because there were a few moments there he thought he'd never get to hug you again. Smell your hair, feel how cold you ran against his usually hot self.

“I couldn't wait to see you for one more second.” You could hear it in his voice, fuck. Something had happened, hadn't it. But more importantly you could see it in his eyes as he pulled away to meet your gaze in the dimly lit living room or your modest two bedroom two bathroom townhouse. Big enough for you and big enough for Bradley Bradshaw. With a little extra room for a guest here and there. “As soon as I was dismissed I jumped in the Bronco and headed straight for the airport.”

“That's a pretty long flight –” You were trying to get a read on the situation. What makes a man drive almost the entire West Coast of the United States so pressingly? What on earth was going on inside his head. “Do you want a coffee or something? I can make you a fresh pot?”

“Uh yeah that would be nice.” Bradley replied softly as he brought your forehead to his lips by pressing the palm of his hand to the back of your head. Letting you go as you wondered your way into the kitchen. The kettle already empty and waiting to be filled.

Rooster couldn't wait another second, he had to ask. Following you as he fished the small black velvet box that held his mothers engagement ring out of his pocket. Opening it and he stood behind you. Your hips pressing against the lip of the kitchen bench as you filled the kettle with a soft smile on your face. Bradley's hand came to lean against the countertop as he kissed your neck softly. Peppering small butterfly-like kisses up and down the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

“What do you think you're playing at?” Taunting the naval aviator who you’d missed so dearly as you turned around, leaning against the countertop as you held the kettle now full of water. It wasn't long before it had found its new home on the tiles. Water cascading across the gloss white flooring. Your hands coming up to cup your mouth. Jaw hung slack as a gasp escaped. Eyes wide with pure shock as Bradley Bradshaw trapped you against the countertop and himself. Holding the open velvet box in his hand with a soft smile and watery eyes. “Brad–”

“I almost didn't come home this time.” It was a sentence you never wanted to hear but were still thankful enough to hear him say it. It was and would always be better than the alternative. The home calls all military men and women dreaded. The one where officials inform you of a loss. “And it made me realise that I now have someone to leave behind.”

“Bradley–” You tried to speak as you cupped his cheeks. Pressing your forehead against his as you stood on the tips of your toes to meet his lips.

“Marry me Y/n, marry me.” It was a question you didn't need to ponder or consider saying anything but yes to immediately. Watching as Bradley dropped down to one knee before you. Following him down. “I love you so much and I just–Ican't stand the thought of not having you in my life for whatever time I have here.” It was the honest truth of the matter. “And I want you all to myself, as my wife, my best friend.

“Yes.” It was all you said before you crashed into him. Your arms wrapping around his neck as you both fell to the floor, rooster on his back in the mess of water as you fell atop him. Melting together as your tongues danced and hands roamed. “I love you so much more.”

“Do we have a deal?” Your voice brought Rooster back into the room. His eyes trained on you as you kept your hands up and your eyes on bob. He looked like he was keeping it together. But you knew from experience the second he was let go he could react in all kinds of ways. You'd seen it all. “I said do we have a deal?” You weren't in the mood for this, to play silly games with peoples lives. “Bodmin!”

“Yes yes we have a deal!” He shouted. Accepting your proposal for a trade off. your self for Bob. Slowly making your way over to him, you took Bob's hand in yours. He was shaking something chronic. He’d been in situations where life and death seemed not too far apart but this? He’d never be able to forget the feeling of having his life threatened by another person.

“Floyd?” You said Bob’s last name allowed, committing the name that was proudly displayed on his name badge to memory. “Got a first name?” You vaguely remembered, it was something that started with a B. Bradley had mentioned so many people it was hard to keep track sometimes.

“Bob–” huh, You finally had a face to go with the stories Bradley had told you late at night in the kitchen. One in particular coming to mind, the bird strike. “Robert.”

“Well Bob, today's your lucky day.” You were sure to take your time as the man released Bob from his grasp, pulling Bob towards you step by step. “If you call being held hostage lucky–”

“You don't have to do this, you know.” Bob whispered as you turned around, it was now you who had your back to Bodmin. With a gentle smile you let his hands drop. The barrel of the gun that had once been held to Bob’s temple now pressing against the small of your back. “You don't have to risk your life for me–”

“It's kinda my job.” That was all you really had time to say before you were being marched towards the front door of the Hard Deck. Rooster sent DiNozzo a look as if to ask what the hell was he doing just letting you play self sacrificing damsel. DiNozzo just shrugged, his gun still drawn and locked onto Bodmin's back from across the room. “How do you wanna do this Dan? You gonna shoot a lady in the back? You know thats considered murder right?” It was now that you were getting Daniel right where you needed him to be that you started playing mind games. “If you’re already going down for the murder of Avery you may as well go two for two right?” DiNozzo could hear everything you were saying through his ear piece. When he got the chance? He was gonna slap the god damn shit out of the back of your head for being so undeniably reckless. “You killed him for the money didn't you? You just didn't know where he’d stashed it. So you panicked.”

“What happened to innocent until proven guilty huh?”

“You held a gun to a naval aviator's head–you’re as good as done.”

“Shut up before I put a goddamn bullet in you–” Shoving you out the front door was probably the dumbest thing Daniel Bodmin could have done. Because as you stepped out onto the front deck of the Hard Deck bar? A few dozen of your agents had him surrounded. Within milliseconds.

Bradley's heart fell out his arse when he heard a single gunshot come from outside. Shouting from all over the place ensued as he ran to where he’d last seen you, right out the front door.

“Y/n!!” He was expecting the worst, to see you lying on the ground with a bullet between your eyes. But that's not what he saw. Far from it actually. Special Agent DiNozzo was hot on Rooster's tail. Fuck. This couldn't be happening, this was meant to be a routine god damn op.

To both men's surprise, you had your knee pressed into Daniel Bodmin's back. He was face down on the deck with his hands cuffed behind his back, his gun discarded. Looking up at Rooster with a smirk evident on your face as Daniel squired under the pressure you were forcing him down with.

“Hi fellas.” You beamed like nothing unorthodox had just taken place. “DiNozzo, what the hell took you so long man–?”

“I was trying to listen to what everyone on comms was saying but it got all jumbled.” DiNozzo explained as he holstered his gun. Leaning down to take over the apprehension of Daniel Bodmin. “All I heard was gett him outside then you started going all awol of me like some suicidal maniac.” Pulling the now detained suspect to his feet. “When we get back to Quantico you best believe Gibbs is gonna be pissed.”

“When is he ever not?” You replied with a sigh. Turning your attention to Rooster who stood off to the side. The entire squad looking out the windows, peeping eyes looking over the windowsills to catch a glimpse of the action happening outside. This had been the most exhilarating situation the Hard Deck Bar had ever seen. Penny swore she was about ready to sell the damn place. “I'm sorry I threatened to arrest you, you know I wou–” before you could finish your sentence Bradley’s hands were clasping your cheeks. Pulling you against him as he kissed you with so much love and admiration you could taste it.

“I’ve never been so fucking worried about you—“ Roosted kissed you deeper this time, he knew what he was playing at as well. The whole ‘let me kiss her so she can’t speak’ shtick. Only pulling away with enough time so he could. “You’ve told me this stuff seems so normal to you but I want you to know it’s not—it’s beyond dangerous and I can't believe how easily you put down your weapon.” Rooster was projecting his own insecurities about your job onto you. Placing your hand over your lips as he came back to kiss you. Colliding with your open palm.

“You have a medallion sitting over our fireplace because you defied direct orders and single handedly flew into enemy territory knowing damn well you didn't have the ammunition to fight back–all to save the lives of others.” Yep. You had him with that one. “What is the difference here? Spot it and I'll give you five bucks Bradshaw–” Rooster just pulled you into his chest. His arms wrapping around your shoulders, his chin resting on the top of your head. Looking out as the sun set lower and slower on the horizon.

“I guess there isn't much in it.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Twenty minutes. That how much time had passed since Rooster saw you held at gun point, since he saw Bob held at gunpoint. It was standard protocol, you had Bob sitting at a nearby picnic table outside of the Hard Deck taking a witness statement.

“And you’re sure you’re alright? You don’t feel like you need to get checked out or anything?” You had your windbreaker one. The dark blue oversized jacket that proudly displayed NCIS on the back.

“No ma’am, thanks to you I’m in one peice.” You smiled softly at him, honestly you were just doing your job. “I didn’t know Rooster had a fiancée—“ You closed your little notepad before pocketing it in the back of your jean pocket. “Wish we’d met under different circumstances.”

“It is a little unorthodox isn’t it.” You chuckled, tapping Bob in the shoulder before making your way over to Rooster. He’d been watching you like a Hawk as you did your thing. Told people where to go and who to talk to, lead the investigation as NCIS agents went in and out of the Hard Deck. Talking to other witnesses for as many recollections as possible to aid the prosecution. “I’m thinking of staying until Tuesday if you feel like some company?” You mentioned as you approached Bradley, he stool with his arms crossed over his chest. Just admiring you from a far. He never really got the chance to watch you work. “If not I can always get a room at the motel down the road.”

“Well I usually don’t bring in strays—“ Taunting you as you bumped your hip against your finance’s playfully, your tongue sticking out against the inner part of your cheek as his smart ass comment. “But I’m sure I can make an exception.” You and Bradley had spoken a few times about the possibility of maybe buying a house in Freightertown now that he was there on more of a permanent basis. You’d keep the rental in Washington for convenience—but the idea would eventually see you come to San Diago as well. “You can’t get mad about the dishes piled as high as Everest in the sink though.”

“I’m not gonna say a word—“ Rooster swore he saw your nose grow an inch longer. He knew you’d say something about the mess, he’d let it get a little out of hand this week. He’d been starting early and finishing late—leaving little time for upkeep on the day to day basics.

“Agent Gibbs?” One of your Agents approached you followed by two men you’d never seen before in your life. “This is officer Radavic and Wilcox—NSA.”

“What’s NSA want with our case?” You questioned and the men showed you their badges and credentials. Rooster didn’t know if he should leave or stay. Choosing to stay as you crossed your arms across your chest.

“Daniel Bodmin was a foreign national with information considered a threat to the United States of America.” You couldn't believe what you were hearing. This entire case had been blown way out of the realm of what you originally thought it to be. “We figured we’d jump in, take things off your hands.” With a scoff and a small laugh you shook your head. Kicking your heel in the rough gravel underneath your shoe.

“This case is NCIS jurisdiction–regardless if Bodmin is of interest to NSA—“ Something was off, way off. If NSA was interested they would have made contact way before now. And they’d use the proper channels to do so, not just show up in Miramar unannounced. Perhaps you were too much like your father, or maybe you just didn’t believe the story from the get go.

“Well, I personally believe it would be in the best interest of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service to work with us, after all? We are on the same side.” Yeah, no. There was something incredibly off about these two. “Have you been able to find anything on–” Before the supposed NSA Agent had the chance to finish his sentence you were sending your shine directly between his legs. Pulling his shoulders forward into you as you did so. Immediately he went down like a sack of shit, groaning as his partner went at Rooster. Not knowing he wasn't NCIS.

“Hey woah what the–!” Rooster was pretty quick on the draw, you'd give your soon to be husband that. He didn't need your help when it came to defending himself. His knuckles would surely be bruised up slightly after he was done and the other agent was on the ground. “What are you doing! You heard the guy? You're on the same team?” Roosters eyes were as wide as saucers as he turned back to you, fixing his shirt after having laid the other agent on his ass. Unconscious.

“Im pretty sure he's not NSA–” Bending over to retrieve both their weapons as a few agents rushed to the scene. Taking them into custody.

“Pretty sure!?” Bradley shouted through gritted teeth. “Because you teed off on him like you were kicking a field goal!”

“Rooster, I've got a hunch they're working with Bodmin alright, they might be foreign oppritives—just slow your roll there.” Trying to calm your fiancé down as you dusted him off. Sand everywhere.

“Oh my gosh! Y/n, sweetheart, baby girl no you don't just kick a guy in the junk on a hunch–“ Rooster groaned as he held his stomach. “Gees, sometimes I don't even know you, who does that?” You shrugged it off with a chuckle, intertwining your arm with Roosters as yiu walked back into the Hard Deck—all eyes on you as you looked up. A good set of twelve eyes all locked onto you. “Uh, I think this might be a good time to introduce you to my colleagues here.” Rooster mumbled as he kissed the top of your head. Nodding in response you waved at everyone who just stood stunned, still processing what had happened earlier.

“You must be colleagues huh?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“So how’d you know they were bogus?” You’d all been sitting around the pool table. You’d noticed pretty quickly just how close Bob had stayed to the side of the women who’d come racing to the Hard Deck not ten minutes after you’d placed Bodmin under arrest. When Bradley had introduced you she’d pulled you in for a hug, said thank you for saving Bob's life and told you her name was Nat.

“Theyre accents–” You replied to Coyote who just shook his head in disbelief. God you were cool. How on earth did Rooster manage to find a girl like you?

“Nope, they didn't have accents.” Rooster saw how everyone was looking at you like you were the coolest person they’d ever encountered. Flying high he decided to shoot you down for his own enjoyment. Bring you back down to earth where he and the commoners lived. Standing between Bradley legs as he sat on one of the barstools with your back against his chest. You turned as his arms came down from their home on your shoulders. His hands lingering on your hips.

“Rooster, sweetheart, baby boy.” You teased, knowing exactly what he was doing. “Do you know the difference between French open syllabic organisation and English archaic speech patterning?” Giving him a taste of his own medicine. He didn’t respond—simply smirking as he took a sip of his beer. Eyes never leaving yours. Fucking smart arse.

“What that old chestnut?” Hangman mumbled as he smirked into the beer bottle he held to his lips. The whole crew minus Bob were indulging in a few too many alcoholic beverages. “Nah, what the hell even is that?” Fuck—Rooster could count his lucky stars with you that was for damn sure. “They probably have some diplomatic unity or some bullshit.”

“That's exactly why we threw em in county.” A familiar voice entered the chat. “They’ll be lucky to even get a phone call by christmas. '' DiNozzo snickered as he picked up a handful of the peanuts sitting in a bowl on the edge of the pool table. Looking at him so disappointed and puzzled as to where he’d gone this whole time– He shot you a questioning look back. “What? What's that look for?”

“Where the hell have you been—?” It was a legitimate question you wanted an answer to. DiNozzo just frowned as he took the handful of nuts into his mouth.

“Escorting our perp into county, why? what did I miss?” Looking around, no one wanted to give him an answer. “I'm pretty sure we’re good here don't you think? Besides, I’m gonna head back to the motel and get a good rest in before giving our two NSA impersonators the old razzle dazzle tomorrow–” Bradley chuckled to himself as you lent back to him. His chin resting on your shoulder.

“Just don't let Agent Bradshaw here interrogate them.” You would soon have to get used to that. Special Agent Bradshaw. It sounded funny but in the best of ways. Like a new house. Sure it felt foregin at first but soon it would become a home. Rolling your eyes as you sighed dramatically.

“Why is that?” DiNozzo questioned with squinted eyes. “What did you do–?”

“She kicked one of the guys right in the non day plumes!” Bradley scoffed over your shoulder, feeling you pull away in defeat as you stood with your arms crossed, sending him a glare– telling him to get over it already. God you loved him. So much.

“No–” Anthony played into it. Holding his hands together to cover his crotch. “She didn’t–”

“Yep–Guy didn't even have his weapon out.” You couldn't believe how big of a deal Bradley was making out of this.

“Really!?” DiNozzo was flabbergasted. “Gibbs, that's just outright assault.” You didn't know who to stare at more, Anthony or Bradley as the group watched on with laughter and smirks.

“Mmhmm, right in the cul de sac, kicked him so hard it gave me a stomach ache.” Okay this was getting out of hand.

“So what!” Throwing your hands up in defeat. “Would it have been better if I pistol whipped him across the face?”

“YES!!” Every single man you stood with said allowed in unison. You couldn't believe it. Even Natasha rollered her eyes.

“I'd rather be held at gun point–” Bob pipped up as Phoenix softly slapped him in the chest with the back of her hand. The group couldn't help but to laugh, settling in soon after into their own conversations as you said bye to DiNozzo and turned all of your attention back to Rooster.

“You done?” Questioning his childishness you glared at him yet again with a soft smirk. “Or should I get that hotel room after all?”

“Oh No–” Bradley Bradshaw had never jumped from his seat so fast in his life. Finishing his beer as he did so. “No you're coming home with me.” kissing your cheek as he whispered in your ear. “I specifically remember you mentioning handcuffs and I don't know about you but I'm keen to play cops and robbers.”

Would you like to read more of NCIS Bradley? The series Masterlist is linked here

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