#i held a gun to the head of the muse that said 'this is way too short' and pulled the fucking trigger

[ragnarokhound]

((you don’t have to do both if you don’t want to, you can consider this one a back up / alt))

“If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.” 💞

From this writing prompt list i reblogged in...november lmao fljdsjfa

anyway this grew legs and sprinted away the second I picked it up yesterday - clearly it just needed some time to proof lmao. Thank you for the ask, tauria!! From *checks watch* almost 5 months ago fjdslafjsa I will be cross-posting it to Ao3 in my new oneshot collection fic :)

Warnings for: Vague allusions that Ra's Al Ghul is a creep (what else is new), threats of gun violence, canon-typical violence

15. “If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.”

When Tim arrived in Gotham this morning, he had no way of knowing that his day would end in Jason Todd’s bed. 

Frankly, he wasn’t really sure what bed he’d end up in— because his own certainly wasn’t an option right now. But If he had to pick, Jason Todd’s was somewhere near the bottom of whatever list he’d make.

He didn’t exactly plan on this, okay? 

But, uh. Let’s back up a little.

—

Tim knew his day was going to go to shit when he got back from the airport at 7 AM.

He had his driver drop him off two blocks away from his townhouse for the sake of caffeine at the hole in the wall place he likes. Wealthy CEO he may be, but a sixteen hour flight is still a sixteen hour flight and Tim is cursed with an inability to sleep in the air. 

Don’t ask. He’s tried. It doesn’t work.

So he wants coffee, and he wants a shower, and he wants his own bed. In that order.

With the first thing on his list acquired and blessedly burning his tongue, he managed to tug his brain cells together enough to realize that the building they’d passed that had been shrouded in tents and canvas was his building.

"What's going on here?"

The worker outside his building looks up from her clipboard, her face wrinkling into apprehensive confusion.

"Hello, sir. Can I help you?”

He hasn’t slept in roughly seventy two hours. He is not awake or patient enough for this.

“My name is Tim Drake. I own this building. What’s going on here?” He repeats.

The woman raises her eyebrows and looks down at her clipboard again. “Mr. Drake?” She questions, clearly expecting him to look like a grown-ass man and not a sleep-deprived college student coming home from spring break or whatever.

“Yes. Timothy Drake-Wayne. Why are you—” he tries to gesture with the hand still holding his suitcase handle, walking towards the tarps and tents erected around his townhouse with increasing trepidation, “—here?”

“I’m sorry sir, but you can’t go in there. Not for at least forty-eight hours.”

Tim stops in his tracks.

“Forty-eight—?”

“We've been scheduled to fumigate the property today.” She says it like she’s reading it out of a handbook. “It won't be safe to enter the building for at least forty-eight hours. You should have received prior notice. Uh. Sir.”

Tim's jet-lagged brain kicks into overdrive. 

Bruce hasn't made any disappointed noises about Tim’s perfectly normal work ethic lately so it probably wasn't a misguided attempt at benching him. And besides, rendering Tim’s apartment inaccessible is counterproductive on that front. 

Dick wouldn’t. They haven’t been exactly— great, lately but he wouldn’t. Besides, if he wanted to get Tim out of the house more, he’d show up to drag Tim out into the daylight himself. This is a little too roundabout for him.

It’s too much work to be Steph. She would think it’s funny, but there’s no way she’d follow through.

Damian might, but this doesn’t quite fit his preferred methods for making Tim’s life hell. It could be some cloak and dagger maneuver to leave him vulnerable, faking a complaint to the city so he’ll—

And then Tim thinks about the call.

The call he’d brushed off at fuck o’clock in the morning somewhere over Europe, too busy with another project. The call his secretary took for him instead. He thinks about the distracted confirmation he’d given to whatever it was she’d asked him about five minutes later. 

He also thinks about the form he signed about two weeks ago, before this last minute trip to Hong Kong had consumed his entire attention. The one with “Two Weeks Notice” stamped across the top. His stomach sinks.

“Today,” he repeats.

She looks apologetic. “Today,” she confirms. “And we just started about an hour ago. I’m very sorry, Mr. Drake-Wayne but—”

"No it's—" he says through gritted teeth, "fine. I'll just. Make other arrangements."

—

He does not make other arrangements. Though not for lack of trying.

Tim has a handful of safehouses scattered throughout the city. He has options. He gets a taxi to the closest neighborhood, and nearly falls asleep in the backseat. The cabby has to knock on the glass divider to get his attention when they come to a stop. He grumbles and hauls his suitcase out of the backseat, and tips the man excessively.

Shower. Bed. Sleep. He’s so close he could cry.

Except when he finally rolls around the block, coffee half gone and trying to remember if this safehouse is the one with in-unit laundry or if he’ll have to haul his shit down to the laundry room, his building is a blackened husk with police tape all around it.

He stops on the sidewalk. He peers up at the window of his unit, squinting at the peeling black wood and shattered glass. He ponders whether two is enough data points to be considered a pattern. And whether he could get away with napping in the alley on this street or if that’ll end with him stabbed and robbed.

As he’s pondering, he catches sight of a passerby and stops him.

“‘Scuse me,” he says apologetically. “What the hell happened here?”

The guy looks up from his phone and takes in his rumpled clothes, his suitcase, and the scorched remains of his apartment.

“Oh, uh. Yeah, there was a big fire about a week back? Bad fire. Took out, like, half the block. Cops are saying it’s arson.”

“A week ago,” Tim repeats. The guy’s eyes widen.

“Oh shit, bro, did you live here?”

“I’ve been out of town,” he explains numbly.

“Dude, that sucks. And right in the middle of con’ season. Good luck finding a hotel!”

“Yeah,” Tim sighs as the guy walks away. “Thanks.”

—

The next safehouse he tries isn’t in much better shape. 

He remembers hearing about Freeze going on a rampage a few days into his trip, but he hadn’t realized another one of his places had been caught in the cross-fire. The cold burst the pipes, and now the whole place is undergoing renovation.

He hears all this from the crotchety old lady who lives in the next building over (her building needs renovation too, but will the city pay for it? Of course not, they weren’t ‘directly impacted by disaster’ so they won’t see a penny of relief funds even though their pipes are on the same line. Typical) and when he finally extricates himself from the conversation, it’s almost noon, his second cup of coffee is long-since empty and he’s at the end of his goddamn rope.

By the time he sees his next safehouse, he isn’t even surprised anymore.

“Does God hate me?” He asks the boarded up building. “Is this a punishment? What did I do? What the fuck did I do?”

He is 99% sure at this point that someone is burning his bolt holes. There’s a short list of people with the resources and the intel to do it, and while he’s not above ruling out the likes of Damian just yet, he seriously doubts anyone wearing a bat is behind this. 

Besides, Dick would have noticed by now if Damian were sinking this many resources into convoluted covert ops designed to make Tim suffer. Definitely. Probably.

Fuck it.

He goes around the back and hops on top of his suitcase to reach the clunky camera watching the back entrance. This building is on the shittier side, closer to Crime Alley than his other haunts; cameras break all the time around here. He’ll have it replaced after he’s a functional human again.

Reportedly, this building was tagged for ‘high toxicity levels’—  which is pretty typical for any building where fear toxin or Joker gas are found in any amount. They must have found a lot to condemn the whole building, but Tim is confident he’ll be fine. The airborne shit dissipates to safe levels within hours depending on the ventilation. If it was in the air, it’s long gone. Anything else needs to be injected to be effective.

Once the camera’s busted, he kicks out the boards and heads inside.

He drags his suitcase in after him, and mourns the shower he probably won’t be getting. The hall lights are out, and chances are the water’s been shut off along with the electricity. But at this point, he simply does not give a shit. All he wants are four walls and a mattress.

Leaning on the door to his floor to make it open, he stumbles out into the hallway—

And catches sight of the glistening curved dagger stabbed into the wall next to his door, the hilt gleaming green in the sinking sun.

“Nope,” Tim says, spinning on his heel and going back down the stairwell double time. “Nope, nope, nope.”

He is now 100% certain that the League of Assassins has been burning his bolt holes. Ra’s al fucking Ghul can eat his whole ass.

—

Seven blocks away, Tim sits on the sidewalk in front of a bodega and contemplates a third cup of coffee. The shittiest one yet.

See, here’s the thing.

The thing is, he has options.

He could go to the Manor. Or the penthouse. Or to Steph’s place. He’d have to answer some unnecessary questions like ‘Master Timothy, you know you can’t sleep on aircraft, why didn’t you sleep before your flight’ or ‘Tim, why didn’t you come here first, you know you can still come to me if you’re in trouble, right’ or ‘why did you agree to fumigate your fucking house, you loser, lmao’. (Stephanie is not going to let him live this down). 

He is absolutely certain that he would be welcomed in any of these places and after a completely undeserved amount of fussing, he could take a fucking nap and someone else would deal with the League bullshit for him.

And that’s the thing. There’s the rub.

No one should have to deal with the League bullshit for him. This is his problem. He’s not in a hurry to bring them down on anyone. Not even Damian.

With grim resignation, he reaches for his phone to try and find a hotel room (during a con’ weekend apparently, RIP) and maybe get a fucking handle on this whole stupid thing, when he hears:

“Hand over your wallet!”

He lifts his head slowly and finds himself looking down the barrel of a gun. A gun held by some guy wearing a ski mask in broad fucking daylight. There’s another guy next to him who’s watching the street. There’s a third guy somewhere behind him who he can’t see, but he can hear the scuff of his boots.

Sure. Why not. With the day he’s had, this might as well happen. He holds up his hands placatingly.

Tim contemplates his muggers. The guy with the gun is jittery, probably new to this, or hopped up on something. He keeps glancing between Tim and the bodega behind him, so they were probably planning a run on the till. Might have chickened out, or thought Tim was an easier target, an unexpected meal ticket plopped right in their path. Or they were already inside when Tim sat down, which wouldn’t bode well for his situational awareness seeing as he just came out of there himself.

The grinding gears of his tired brain keep getting caught on the fact that this is happening in the middle of the fucking day. Tim glances at the street corner and bites his cheek in frustration. Yeah, he’s smack dab in the middle of the Alley. Figures.

“Are you deaf or somethin’ man?” The guy with the gun is saying. “Hand over your fucking wallet!”

The other guy doesn’t seem as crazy-eyed. He’s nervous, though. He keeps looking around like he’s expecting Batman to materialize, to come whistling down the street like a beat cop.

“Dude, come on, it’s not fucking worth it,” he says, grabbing at the gunman’s shoulder. “We got the money, let’s fucking go.”

The third guy kicks over Tim’s suitcase. “Yeah, come on, Don, let’s just grab this shit and bounce.”

Tim can’t do anything. He’s not Red Robin right now. He’s Timothy Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and he’s getting mugged in front of a bodega at two in the afternoon in a rumpled suit and tie and still toting his suitcase from his early morning flight. 

His hands are trembling from unspent adrenaline, too much caffeine, and not enough sleep. His eyelids are the heaviest they’ve ever been in his godforsaken life. His ears are ringing. He could knock all three of them down in less time than it takes to tie his shoelaces. But he can’t.

“Shut up, Johnny, look at him shaking! What’s he gonna do? If he doesn’t wanna get shot, rich boy’s gonna hand over all his fucking shit!”

“Hey, let’s just—” Tim tries to say.

Stars explode across his vision as Tim takes a punch he genuinely wasn’t expecting. He stares up at the blue sky for about half a second, more confused than anything else, before the gunman grabs him by the front of his shirt and hauls him up to shout in his face.

“What’s it gonna be, pretty boy?!”

Caught on the exhausted edge between vigilante training and the preservation of his identity, Tim is frozen. He doesn’t know what to do. He kind of wants to cry.

“Gee, Donny, what is it gonna be?” A fourth voice says, full of false cheer.

Tim blinks. So do the muggers. 

He knows that voice.

“Who the fuck—?” The gunman drops Tim, spinning around and into a fist. He tumbles down to the ground, out cold.

Everything happens pretty quickly after that.

Jason Todd is in civvies. He’s sporting a worn out looking hoodie and a pair of jeans that have seen better days. But his heavy boots are the same ones he wears for his uniform, and the kick he delivers to Johnny’s face is all Red Hood.

Almost in a daze, Tim watches him fight with the usual mix of seething envy and raw desire that rears its ugly head any time he gets to see Jason in action. He’s fast, decisive. Efficient. Beautiful. Tim wishes he had Jason’s skill. And he wishes— 

Well. He wishes a lot of things about Jason Todd.

Tim is pretty sure he and Jason are friends. Maybe. Probably. They’ve pretty much moved past the whole “replacement”, “zombie-dickhead” part of their relationship and have graduated to occasionally providing backup on ops that overlap in each other’s sectors, ganging up on Dick when they’re all in the same room, and maintaining a surprisingly steady stream of vigilante gossip to keep each other in the loop. 

So, ok, yes, due to the aforementioned, he’s pretty sure they’re friends. And also because Jason wouldn’t have stuck his neck out for him otherwise. He would have just let him get mugged.

Watching Jason fight is one of Tim’s favorite pastimes. But right now, Tim’s usual appreciation is soured by the gut-roiling embarrassment of being caught in this position by Jason of all people. His eyes itch. His cheek throbs. He’s so fucking tired.

“Hey, little stalker,” Jason says suddenly, holding out an expectant hand in Tim’s face. The muggers are groaning on the ground around them. Tim isn’t sure when that happened. He might have zoned out. “Did you know that you had a stalker for a change?”

Tim flushes. “I resent that. I haven’t stalked anyone in years.” He takes the hand. It’s warm, and calloused, and big around his.

Jason laughs at him and yanks him to his feet. “Liar.”

Tim’s mouth twists into a scowl. He tries to glare at Jason, but he can feel himself swaying and Jason still hasn’t let go of him, and it’s ruining everything.

Also, lowkey, Jason is right. But in his defense, it is literally their job to stalk people, so.

“I haven’t stalked you in years then. Just other guys. Bad guys. Not non-bad guys. Fuck. You know what I mean. Whatever.” He pauses; recalibrates. “Had?” He asks.

Jason’s eyebrows inched higher and higher the longer Tim talked. Tim doesn’t blame him.

“Yeah. Had.” 

So much for the League, Tim muses.

Jason gives him a once over before tugging decisively on Tim’s wrist, easily grabbing the handle of his suitcase and starting to walk with both in tow, to Tim’s rising horror. 

“You’re coming with me, shortstack. What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk? You look like shit.”

Tim tries to yank his wrist out of Jason’s grip, but the asshole doesn’t budge. “I’m not drunk,” Tim snaps. “I’m fine. I’m just. I’m just… really tired.”

Jason stops abruptly, and Tim stumbles into his shoulder.

“I can see that,” he says, steadying Tim with an amused but ultimately sympathetic look. He loads Tim’s suitcase onto the back of a motorcycle that Tim literally just now noticed. 

God, he’s fucked. And not even in a fun way. 

“C’mon,” Jason says. “Don’t fall asleep on the way over— road rash sucks ass.”

—

They don’t talk on the way to— wherever Jason is taking them, but once they’re parked in a random garage and walking towards the elevators, the game of twenty questions begins.

“So why’ve you got League assassins after you, anyway? Piss in a lazarus pit? Push over the baby brat on the playground?”

“Ra’s al Ghul wants my body,” Tim says, dejected but resigned to this bizarre fact of his life. “Since I was seventeen, I’m pretty sure.”

Jason wrinkles his nose. “Ew.”

“I don’t think it’s a sex thing? But it could also be a sex thing.”

“Again. Fucking ew.”

“Yeah. Also I blew up a bunch of his shit and I think he’s still salty I got away with it.”

“Is that why you weren’t at the Manor?” Jason asks, herding Tim out of the elevator and down a long hallway. “Or anywhere but a random street in Crime Alley?”

Tim nods. “Yeah. They found all my safehouses, but— my mess. My problem.”

Jason thwacks him upside the head.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

“You’re the dumbest person on the planet.”

“Am not. B is on-planet right now.”

“Then you’re pretty fucking close,” Jason snarks, fishing out some keys and opening one of the apartment doors.

Tim scoffs at him as he’s pushed inside. “Oh, please. Don’t try to tell me you would let Dick swoop in and solve all your problems for you.”

Jason rolls his eyes, stepping into the side kitchen and popping open the freezer door of the fridge.

“Dickiebird can’t even solve his own problems,” he says as he rummages. “But maybe when I’m fucked up enough to let three nobodies robbing a fucking bodega get the jump on me, that’s a sign that, maybe, it might be time to call in the cavalry. Dick isn’t the only person who’s got your back.” He presses an ice pack to Tim’s face until he takes it himself, and keeps steering him through the apartment. “Just saying.”

Tim would protest with all of his very good reasons why Jason is definitely wrong here, but he’s too busy processing the fact that Jason has led him into a bedroom. With a bed. There’s a bed, with a mattress and pillows and blankets. Right there. Tim stares at it with lustful eyes.

Jason catches him staring. He rolls his eyes, but he’s sporting a small smile that Tim has the presence of mind to memorize. He walks over to a dresser and pulls out a big shirt and a pair of shorts that he hands to Tim.

“Look. If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here. No guarantees I’ll be always around, but, yeah. Mi casa es su casa, or whatever.”

Tim eyes him up, clutching the bundle of Jason-smelling fabric in his hands. “And you’d do that for me because…why, exactly?”

Jason flicks his forehead, a stinging reprimand. Tim hisses.

“Because, dumbass, you need help and I feel like it. And you don’t actually suck to be around, so shut up and be grateful.”

“Oh, yes,” Tim deadpans, rubbing at his forehead. “So grateful to be allowed the privilege of squatting with you.”

The thing of it is, Tim is grateful. But Jason doesn’t need to know that.

Jason squawks, and before Tim can duck, he’s snatched Tim around the neck in a headlock. His arm is thick and doesn’t budge no matter how Tim shoves and kicks. The ice pack and the clothes go flying, and Tim just about dies. Jason is warm.

“Jason—!”

“Brat!” Jason crows, not giving an inch. “I paid for this place fair and square— you’re the only squatter here!”

“Blood money doesn’t count as square!”

“Tell that to half of Gotham, kid.”

“I’m trying to, thanks for noticing,” Tim says, finally wrenching himself free of Jason’s grip, stumbling into the bed and giving into its siren song. He sits down heavily on the edge, toppling over sideways and reaching pathetically for the fallen ice pack that’s just out of his reach.

“And don’t call me kid—” he complains, muffled by the pillow. It also smells like Jason. “You’re barely two years older than me.”

The cold ice pack is pressed into his fingers. He cracks an eye open to look, but Jason is just smirking at him, like he’s giving Tim the win. Ass.

“Coulda fooled me, shortstack.”

Tim rolls his eyes, and onto his back, toeing off his shoes and letting them clatter to the floor. He can’t tell if Jason’s bed is the best bed in the world, or if he’s just deliriously inventing things.

Frankly, Jason Todd’s bed is the last place he ever thought he’d end up, this morning or otherwise, so he’s never bothered to speculate. He does not have a contingency plan for this.

“Is there a reason you keep calling me short,” he complains, “Or will I just need to fill in the blanks myself?”

“Can’t help it. You’re just so small,” Jason coos. Tim props himself up on an elbow at that, raising a disgusted eyebrow.

“You don’t hear me constantly talking about how big you are.” 

Jason grins like he just won the lottery; Tim shuts his eyes the second it’s out of his mouth.

“Baby, you don’t know how big I am.”

He does, actually. Not in a creepy stalker way, just— there was this one time. A big rogue breakout at Arkham, all-hands on deck type of situation; Tim, Cass, and Jason were covering Poison Ivy in the park. Acid-spitting pitcher plants were involved.

And look, Jason’s tactical gear is fine in the day to day, but it’s not like any of them had time to prep a neutralizing agent, so when Jason needed his pants off, stat…uh. Well. Tim was right there.

He knows, okay?

“Alright,” he rallies, trying desperately not to replay the memory of Jason adjusting himself through his boxers. All of himself. “I walked right into that one.”

“Oh, trust me. You’ll know if you’ve walked into it.”

Tim scoffs, but he can feel how red his face is.

And the thing is. He says it without really meaning to. 

But he still means it.

“You gonna put your money where your mouth is, big guy?”

The change is immediate. Jason had been halfway out the door, but now he turns to Tim, giving him his full, undivided attention. He looks at Tim, laid out in Jason's bed, giving him a very slow once over. The scrutiny is at once nerve-wracking and thrilling.

“Thought you didn’t want my money,” Jason murmurs.

The temperature in the room spikes. If it weren’t for the slow throb of his bruised cheek, Tim would think that he’s already asleep and dreaming.

But he isn’t. He’s very much aware that he’s wide awake.

Tim swallows. “Well. It’s not your money I want.”

Jason’s grin is electric. 

He stalks over to the bed, and Tim is frozen like a rabbit, waiting to see what he’ll do next. Jason settles a knee on the sheets between Tim’s legs, looming over Tim and boxing him in against the mattress. Tim’s free hand reaches up of its own accord to tangle in the collar of Jason’s hoodie, and the cotton is softer than he expected.

Jason’s eyes rove over his face, dark and heavy. He catches Tim’s face in his hand, swiping his thumb lightly across the bruising hot ache of his cheekbone. He leans in deliberate and slow and—

—and stops about an inch away from Tim’s mouth.

“Get some sleep, babybird,” Jason teases, his breath puffing gently over the skin of Tim’s lips. “You can proposition me again tomorrow.”

“It’s, like, 3:30 in the afternoon,” Tim argues, breathless.

“Yeah, and your body thinks it’s 3:30 in the morning. You’re dead on your feet. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, and go the fuck to sleep.”

Jason moves to rise. But Tim hooks a stubborn arm around his neck and pulls him down that last remaining inch. 

The kiss is— bad. At first. 

Tim basically smashed their mouths together to prove a point, and Jason muffles a surprised sound against Tim’s teeth. He lands heavily on top of Tim at an awkward angle, and he’s kind of crushing him. Tim refuses to let go, but— Jason doesn’t pull away.

Jason gentles the kiss instead, and Tim thrills. He levers himself up onto his elbow, wrapping an anchoring arm around Tim’s back. He finds a home between Tim’s legs, and he lets Tim kiss him until Tim's lips are tingling and his fingers go slack; until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore.

Somewhere between fifteen minutes and a small eternity later, Jason presses one more kiss to the corner of his mouth. He curls around Tim on his side, and Tim turns his face into Jason’s neck with a soft wondering sigh.

“I’ll keep it. Promise. Wait n’ see,” Tim mumbles. Jason snorts, but doesn’t budge, and Tim can hear his smile in his voice, lilted and lulling.

“Sure, babybird. I’ll wait. I got nowhere else to be.”

Tim is already asleep.

#one hundred thousand years have passed #i creak up out of the soil gasping and hacking and coughing #'i lived bitch' #'have some jaytim that grew legs on me' #my writing #asked and answered #jaytim #ladytauria #hurt/comfort #this one is sillier and more light-hearted than the other ones #the hurt is more like 'near tears travel exhaustion' than your typical aftermath of violence lol but it so definitely counts #i held a gun to the head of the muse that said 'this is way too short' and pulled the fucking trigger #i KNOW it's a very fast get together but i did Not want this to become my next 5 digit wordcount fic okay. okay. oka #the bones of a long 'tim and jason vs the league of assassins' fic is hiding here #and if i actually wrote that this would have ended much differently #but i am Not Writing That okay I am Writing Cowboys and also Werewolves Right Now. I Do Not Have Time For This!!!!!! #prompt fill

[roosterforme]

Something to Talk About | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley knew the rumors were circulating. He knew his friends were talking. But he had known you for such a long time, and you were just friends. Because if something was going to happen between the two of you, it would have happened by now. Right?

Warnings: Fluff and swearing

Length: 1900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for a request. And also because mak-32 said Rumor by Lee Brice would make a good fic. Check out my masterlist for more!

"Hey, Bradshaw, where's your girl?" Jake asked with a smirk. "Haven't seen Yankee all night, and it's getting late."

Bradley shot him some side eye from his stool near the pool table. "She's not my girl. And as far as I know, she went out for dinner with some guy she met at the gym."

"At the gym on base?" Nat shook her head and laughed. "You know how those Navy guys are, Rooster. They only want one thing." 

Bradley rolled his eyes. "She can take care of herself."

"Hey, Payback," Nat called out. "Why do you go to the gym on base?"

"Pick up girls," Reuben replied without hesitation from the other side of the pool table. 

"See?" Nat said to Bradley. "And I don't believe you when you try to tell me there's nothing going on with her. She's constantly touching you, and you get a stupid looking smile around her."

"Just friends," Bradley muttered, taking a sip of his beer. He'd known you since flight school in Pensacola. He'd been stationed with you in Norfolk and Corpus Christi. Now you and he were both back at Top Gun. If something was going to happen between the two of you, it would have happened by now. "Just good friends."

"Friends don't undress each other with their eyes," Nat said, batting her eyelashes at him while the guys laughed. 

Bradley shook his head. He didn't undress you with his eyes, but it wasn't his fault that you were pretty. And you most certainly did not look at him that way. "She doesn't even date other aviators. And she once called me an adorable puppy dog of a man. Just friends."

"There she is," Jake drawled, and Bradley's head snapped around so quickly to see you heading their way. "Hey, Yankee, looking good," Jake called out. 

"Shut up, Hangman," you returned as you got close, but you were smiling at them. You always seemed to be smiling, but seeing you dressed up was a real treat. Bradley was used to you wearing flight suits and khaki uniforms every day. 

When Bradley stood, you walked right up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. "How was your date?" he asked quietly, trying to ignore the looks the others were giving him.

"He was so stupid, Rooster. He could barely string a sentence together. Just a dumb jock," you replied looking up at him with wide eyes. Bradley held you a little tighter; so maybe his feelings for you went just the tiniest bit past platonic. 

"Aww, give the guy a chance, Yankee Doodle Dandy. Maybe he's just not used to how pretty you are. Maybe he got distracted." 

You rolled your eyes at him. "You know I hate it when you call me that." But you were still smiling. "Wanna know the funniest part? He actually asked me when you and I broke up."

Bradley's brow creased. "You and I? Us?"

"Yeah!" you laughed. "Apparently there are rumors we're together. Crazy."

"Yeah... crazy," he agreed, rubbing your back through the fabric of your dress. "Why would anyone think that?" he mused out loud as you pressed your cheek against his chest. You sighed contentedly against him, and when Bradley glanced over to the pool table, he saw his friends all scrambling to pretend they weren't watching you together. 

"I have no idea," you told him softly. 

Bradley cleared his throat. "If this guy was no good, maybe you need to reevaluate who you're going out with, Yankee Doodle. That's like five duds in a row."

You groaned. "I hate it when you're right. I'm getting a drink," you announced. "Anyone need anything?"

Bradley watched as you and Fanboy walked away to get some drinks from Penny. But you kept glancing his way while you and Mickey talked. And maybe Bradley shouldn't be surprised that people thought you and he were together. The two of you had always been comfortable around each other. 

"Could the two of you possibly stand any closer together?" Nat asked, drawing Bradley's attention away from your legs in that short little dress that you had wasted on another shitty date.

He just shook his head. "Nah. She treats Mickey the same way she treats me." But Bradley was starting to have a hard time believing that. 

You and Mickey were a few feet apart, and you were smiling as he was talking animatedly with his hands. But you seemed to reserve a different smile just for Bradley, one that would make his heart ache a little bit if he ever saw you give it to anyone else. 

Nat laughed and patted his arm. "Yeah, okay," she said sarcastically. "I'm just saying, if you want these rumors to stop, the two of you are definitely going about it the wrong way. You look like you're already in a relationship."

A relationship. Bradley would know what the press of your lips against his felt like. He would know all about the needy sounds you made in bed. He would know how it felt to hold you all night. But he knew none of those things. Did he want to?

"Here you go." You were holding another bottle of beer out to him, nudging him in the chest with it when it took him a moment to return from his hazy thoughts of spending a lazy Sunday in bed with you. 

"Thanks, Doodle Dandy," he murmured, and the soft smile that found its way to your lips had him thinking about kissing you. He cleared his throat a few times before taking a sip of the beer and sitting down on the stool. "So, was your dinner at least good? If your date was a dumb as you said, I hope you got a decent meal out of it."

And then your smile was gone as you looked into your vodka cranberry. "We got seafood, and it was delicious. And I made sure to stay and order dessert after he made a comment about my size. He said he usually doesn't date girls with big hips, but I had a cute face, so he'd make an exception."

Bradley froze, gaping at you, and when you met his eyes, you looked so vulnerable. You never looked vulnerable. You were a fast talking fighter pilot who never put up with his shit. But you were also a woman with feelings that had been hurt by some faceless asshole who Bradley would gladly pound into the ground given the opportunity. 

"He's wrong, Doodle," Bradley said, reaching for you and pulling you closer. You let one hand rest on his thigh as you stood between his knees. "Well, not about your face. But the rest of it...he's dead wrong."

You shrugged and smiled at him. "Thanks, Rooster. I'll be fine. I realized he was an idiot before he even said that stuff." You sipped your drink while Bradley leaned in closer. 

"I think I have a solution for your problem, Yankee Doodle." His nose was just a few inches from yours, and now you were leaning one of those decadent hips against the inside of his thigh. Your hand slid an inch further up his leg, and he had to stifle a moan. 

"Which problem is that, Rooster?"

"These guys. These shitty guys keep asking you out, but you deserve a good one," he whispered, and your eyes dipped down to his lips. "One who would tell you how fucking perfect you are. You're fucking perfect, Yankee."

"Oh," you gasped softly. "Rooster?"

He smiled at your surprised expression. "Everyone already thinks we're together anyway. I mean, we can shut these rumors down, if that's what you want. Or we could keep everyone talking. You could probably get me to do anything you want, really."

"How.... hmmm," you hummed, rattling the ice in your cup and avoiding his gaze. But you weren't moving away from him. If anything you were creeping a little closer. "How would we keep everyone talking?"

Bradley stroked your chin with his thumb and tilted your face gently so your eyes met his. "I could kiss you... if you want."

You licked your lips and searched his face. "If you kissed me, would you just be feeding into the rumors?"

Bradley watched the movement of his fingers as he let them drift back along your jaw and wrap around to tease the back of your neck. "No, Dandy. I'd be feeding into this crush I have on you. Which is why I've never done it before."

Your eyes drifted closed as you tilted your head a bit, and Bradley's pulse went wild. Every alarm bell in his head was going off, warning him that he'd get his heart broken if you were only going to kiss him for fun. But he couldn't stop you, because he didn't want to. 

With a soft sigh, your lips met his, and Bradley instantly knew you and he should have done this sooner. Your kiss was sweet as your lips gently explored his. He pulled you closer, his firm fingers stroking up and down the back of your neck until your palm rested on his chest. He could feel the prickle of his mustache against your skin as he nibbled gently on your bottom lip. The soft noise you made spurred him on, but now you were pulling away, meeting his eyes with that same tentative look. 

Bradley could feel the cold condensation on his jeans where your glass had come to rest, but everywhere else he was so warm. He took your glass and his beer bottle in his free hand and set them down on the table behind him. "Come here, Doodle," he whispered, now tracing your cheek with his knuckles. 

Your arms went around his neck, and you were pressing against him, tucked snug between his spread legs. "I hate it when you call me that," you whined softly, pressing your lips against his a little rougher this time. It took everything in Bradley not to climb off the stool and push you against the wall when your fingers found their way into this hair. 

"No, you don't," he whispered, breaking the kiss to taste your neck. 

"No, I don't," you agreed. When his mouth returned to yours, you parted your lips for Bradley, and he tasted you there, too. He stroked your cheek, and you peppered his lips with soft kisses before you pulled away a few inches. "I liked that."

"So did I," he agreed with a laugh. "We should do that all the time."

You nodded and kissed his cheek, and then Bradley realized all the other aviators were staring at both of you with varying looks of surprise. Except for Nat. She was smirking.

When you glanced over your shoulder to see where Bradley was looking, you waved at everyone. 

"Are the rumors true then? You two are into each other?" Nat asked, casually sipping her drink.

You turned back and looked at Bradley with hopeful eyes and a grin. "Are the rumors true, Rooster?"

He wrapped his hands around your waist and nodded at the others. "Yeah. Rumors are true." Then he stood and pulled you against him, dipping his head down for another kiss while you smiled. 

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

Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls for putting up with me. And I hope @abaker74 finds a real life Rooster, because that's what you deserve!

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction

[theemporium]

Thank youuuuu for going with my request, loved it soooo much.

Could you maybe do a Daniel x Sunshine set amid Scotty and Chloe’s wedding, and when Chloe throws the bouquet, sunshine catches it, and the entire room looks at Daniel while he blushes.

I saw a reel like this, and i can totally imagine Scotty running up to Daniel and saying “you’re next” lmao😭

So much love~💚

thank you!! and thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

You had never been to Venice before you joined Daniel as his date to his best friend’s wedding.

It was a beautiful city, one that you had seen countless times in videos and pictures and movies. You always imagined it would disappoint if you ever saw it in real life, maybe that was a reason you always held back from visiting in the free time you had between each half of the seasons.

But when Daniel asked you to join him for Scotty’s wedding—someone who you had become close to as well—you had no reason to deny the invitation. And you were glad you did because it was even better than any screen or camera could ever capture.

CLICK!

You turned your head, finding your boyfriend grinning behind his camera as he clicked another picture of your expression before setting it down on the table. He reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers together before pressing a kiss to the back.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Daniel asked, his thumb smoothing over the back of your hand.

“Just thinking,” you murmured with a smile.

He raised his brows. “Oh, that can’t be good.”

You rolled your eyes but laughed. “It’s just…so romantic here,” you said to him with a shrug. “Like, I know people always go on about Paris but this…this is something else entirely.”

He had a deeply contemplative look on his face. “Would you wanna get married here?”

You blinked, almost like you weren’t expecting the question. “I don’t know, to be honest.”

“Where would you wanna get married?” Daniel asked before he flashed you a sheepish smile. “Hypothetically.”

“Jumping the gun a bit there, Ricciardo,” you mused but there was a smile on your face too.

He just shrugged. “I like envisioning our future. I just wanna know what your version looks like.”

“And it’s a wedding?” you asked.

“Our dream wedding,” he corrected as he placed another kiss along your knuckles. “It’s gonna be everything we want and more.”

“And more?” you teased. “You’re making big promises here.”

“And I intend to fulfil them all,” he retorted playfully, his eyes glancing down to your lips. You had forbidden him from kissing you before pictures in case it ruined your makeup. But those were over now and there was no reason he couldn’t—

“BOUQUET TOSS! C’MON UP, LADIES!”

You barely got a chance to say anything as you felt hands pull you off your seat, only having enough time to give your boyfriend an apologetic smile before you were tugged into the crowd of women in the middle of the dance floor.

You stayed back, happy to just observe as Chloe moved to the front, looking like a goddamn Disney princess as she grinned at the crowd before turning her back to everyone and tossing the bouquet of flowers over her head.

You were surprised when you found them heading straight towards you.

You could hear the cheers of the other wedding guests, clapping and laughing as you glanced down at the flowers in your hands, and then almost instantly your eyes went to Daniel.

He was already staring at you, a wide grin spread across his face. He wiggled his brows playfully which only made you laugh with him, despite the heated flush covering your body at all the attention.

Daniel couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as Scotty made his way towards him, throwing an arm over his shoulder and giving him a playful shove.

“Guess it’s you next, mate, eh?” Scotty teased.

Though it seems impossible, his grin widened. “Hopefully.”

.

#daniel ricciardo #formula one #f1 #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one oneshot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

[0and0its0doctor0]

You Belong to Me, I Believe

David Rossi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not smutty but not clean either, CM Violence, Unwanted kissing by unsub

Summary: An unsub gets a little too flirty with you. David steps in.

WC: 1,021

Thank you @my-mummy-dust for helping me with everything and being my muse <3

You and David are sitting in the interrogation room in a tiny police department in Belmont, Louisiana. The unsub sitting in front of you was accused of murdering 8 women with another two still missing. David was asking him questions but he was refusing to answer anything, all he would do was stare at you practically drooling from the mouth. You and David walked out of the interrogation room and you ran a hand across your face with a sigh. It was hot, you were already sweating in your button up shirt and this interrogation was going nowhere.

“I have an idea. Just go with it.” You said taking off your over-shirt leaving you in a tight form fitting tank top and letting your hair out of the scrunchie that was holding it in a loose bun on top of your head. “What are you doing? You aren’t going in there like this.” David said stubbornly. You just looked at David with a raised eyebrow as you walked into the interrogation room. There was a low whistle from the unsub and David wanted to shoot him right then and there. 

You asked him the same questions David asked him and he answered most of them. He flirted relentlessly with you. “I’ll tell you where the girls are if you let me touch her.” He said and David smacked the table glaring at the unsub. “You don’t get to touch her. Only I get to do that.” He snapped, his voice low and threatening. “Let him.” You said stepping closer to where the unsub was chained to the table. You leaned forward just enough for him to run his chained hands through your hair. You were pulled back by a seething David Rossi.

“Get ready.” He said angrily into the radio as the unsub told you where to find the missing girls. Once David gave the information over the radio he pulled you out into the precinct. “What were you thinking?” You had never seen him this mad. “I was thinking we needed to find the missing girls and I was going to do whatever it took.” You folded your arms across your chest. He unfolded your arms and pulled you into a rough kiss tangling his hand in your hair and pushing you flush against his body. 

The kiss was sloppy and heated and angry. His hands were all over you and you felt your cheeks flush bright red when you remembered you were standing in the middle of a podunk police station with your entire team watching with rapt attention. When he finally pulled away you were panting and the color of a cherry tomato. “Do you guys need to go back to the hotel?” Aaron asked with a slight smirk to his face. David looked down at you as you were trying to straighten out your shirt.

“Nope. Just reminding her who she belongs to.” He said casually walking away leaving you there blinking. Emily walked up to you, the biggest shit eating grin on her face. “You have lipstick on your chin.” She said laughing as she walked away leaving you to run to the bathroom to sort yourself out. You couldn’t believe that just happened. Well if the team was going to find out about you and David dating might as well be in the middle of a small police department in Belmont, Louisiana. 

You were both standing in the hallway when the unsub was brought out, they were re-cuffing his hands after un-cuffing him from the table when he got loose and booked it towards you. He wrapped his arms around you pulling you into a forced kiss, the entire precinct burst into action. David pulled his gun pointing it at the unsub who had you held tight against his body. The officers that were originally handcuffing him managed to pry him away from you as you got shoved towards David who caught you and quickly walked you to the other side of the room out of harm's way. You were shaking trying to process what just happened.

“Hey. Are you okay?” David asked, his fingers gently grasping your chin so you were looking directly at him. “I uhm. I wasn’t expecting that to happen.” You said shakily, all of a sudden you were very cold. He leaned forward to kiss you but this time he was gentle and he caressed your cheek with his thumb. “Do not move.” He told you, stepping away from where you were leaning against a desk because you felt like your legs were going to give out. You watched as David walked up to the unsub and decked him. He walked back over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side.  “Come on. We’re done here.” He grabbed your upper arm and guided you towards the waiting SUV’s. “But what about the girls?” You asked as he buckled you into the front seat. “You're the only girl I’m worried about right now.” He got in the driver's seat and took off towards the hotel. 

Once you arrived at the hotel and were safely inside David’s hotel room you sat on the edge of the bed not really sure what to do. “Hey kitten. You’re okay.” He said brushing some of your hair back. You surged forward practically knocking him to the ground as you aggressively pressed your lips to his licking your way into his mouth. He growled and wrapped his hands around your waist walking you backwards till you were flat on the mattress. His lips left sloppy wet kisses across your chin, down the curve of your neck and you groaned as he sucked a bruise into your clavicle. “I love you baby.” He whispered into your ear, licking the curve of it causing you to shudder. “You know I love that.” You said breathlessly causing him to smirk. “My beautiful girl.” He said into your ear before placing open mouthed kisses along your exposed skin. And that was how your bra wound up tossed across the room landing on a lamp.

#criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds gen fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #david rossi x ofc #david rossi x reader #david rossi #drabble #fluffy #fic writing #i wrote this for me #rossi x reader #im going to hell #Rossi fangirl club #thank you #not actually smutty #not actually sorry

[haikyuu-fluff-imagines]

Haikyu accidentally confessing

Tsukishima, Oikawa, Sakusa, Suna, Kageyama, Ushijima, Akaashi

TW: Sexual jokes (like middle school boy jokes) Sorry for any mistakes!

"Ayo-" You started with the overused tiktok sound, causing your friend to push your head forward slightly. You chuckled at his annoyed expression as you opened your locker, getting a few books.

"You start this again and I'll throw a ball at your head." You smirked at him.

"Depends what kind." He gagged but you noticed the telltale sign of him trying not to smile.

"You're gross." He stated, even so, he grabbed two of the books from your load.

"You love me." You sang quietly.

"Do I?" He tilted his head as you two made your way to the gym.

"No.." You said sadly as you hung your head. He knew you were smiling as you did, but he indulged you anyway.

"Oh, no, so sad, I'm sooo sorry. You must be so disappointed." He said blandly, rolling his eyes.

You smiled a bit as he opened the door and held it for you.

"I want a boyfriend though." You stated , making him groan.

"Here we go again.."

"I'm serious, I just..want someone, you know?"

"No."

"Well maybe you'd have a girlfriend if you weren't so mean to every girl who asks you out." You said, hitting his side softly.

"You have to be harsh or they'll think they have a chance. Besides, I already have someone in mind." You gasped.

"Who?!"

"You."

"Ooh- Wait what."

"Ew, it's you." You groaned as you opened your door.

"You invited me, I'll leave." He threatened.

"Mkay." You said, going to shut the door, shutting his foot in the process.

"You and Iwa bully me so much." He whined as he walked in.

"It's payback for all the crap you do." He gasped and placed a hand on his heart.

"Little ol' me?" You laughed loudly as you walked into the living room.

"You're right, it's just fun."

"You know what else is fun?" He wiggled his brows.

"Murder?"

"Um, no- but we'll come back to that." He gave finger guns and I mused at him.

"What movie do you wanna watch?" I asked.

"Mulan, duh." My eyes brightened as I turned to him.

"Really?" He smiled and sat down, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Yeah yeah, put your favorite movie in." He rolled his eyes teasingly, waiting for you to come sit by him on the couch.

"Do you want snacks?" You asked, standing up and grabbing the remote.

"You already have the best one." He said, making a click sound with his tongue.

"In your dreams." You smiled.

"You can only imagine." He said seriously, making you turn to him quickly.

"Huh?"

"Whoopsie!"

"Hi puppy." You greeted your friend as he sat down at the table.

"You did wipe this down right?" You nodded. You two were meeting at your moms restaurant after hours to hang out.

"Hey. Did you read the book I gave you?" He asked.

"Yes, I did, and I have to say I'll never look at my phone the same way again." He chuckled.

"And I guess I'll just have to start kissing people as a greeting."

"Ew no." He scrunched his nose in disgust.

"You can be excluded if you want." You teased.

"Actually, I'd rather be the only one included." You blinked at him a few times, assuming you heard him wrong.

"Cat got your tongue? I can help with that." He smirked, making you shriek quietly and hide your face behind your hands.

"Stop! Who are you?" You giggled.

"Your future boyfriend?"

"Mwah." You kissed your friend on top of his mop of hair.

"What are you doing today?" He asked as you crawled on his lap.

"Eyeliner and brows." He nodded as he gazed over your shoulder, watching the movie that was playing behind you.

"Look up." He obeyed and flinched a bit when you started putting eyeliner on his lower lash line.

"Oh beautiful. Stunning. Runway material." He chuckled as you grabbed your tweezers and started plucking a few stray brow hairs.

"Oww.." He whined, making you roll your eyes.

"You're such a baby." You teased.

"You love me." You nodded in confirmation.

"A lot." He smiled softly and you both made eye contact, and in that moment, you both felt something change.

"Never smile at my little brother again." You laughed, patting your friend on his back.

"I didn't mean to scare him!" He whined. You two were walking to a convenience store before going to his house for a movie night, something you both had every Friday.

"Ah, he's a loser anyway." You shrugged.

"Is it really that scary when I smile?" He asked quietly.

"If people aren't around you all the time, maybe, but when they realize you're just a ball of fluff when your comfortable, then no." He blinked, confused, but shrugged anyway.

"No, it's not, it just surprises new people." He sighed.

"Tobio, your smile's fine." You chuckled.

"Maybe to you, but I'm tired of scaring people because of it."

"Tobio, you're smile, is absolutely, perfect." You said, grabbing his hand, making him pause.

"Especially to me." You confirmed.

"...Why are you staring at me, weirdo." You chuckled, turning around to see your friend laying propped up on your bed.

"I'm waiting for you to start the movie." He blinked.

"Start it without me, I'm going to change into fuzzier pants." He didn't know why he found you so endearing. Your were loud, and clumsy, and you were always late, even for things in your own bedroom.

"Slow poke." He heard you scoff as you hobble back into his view, one leg into your pants, and the other struggling to find the hole.

"Inside out." He noted, without even sparing you a glance.

"Your so smart." You cooed, jumping onto the bed.

"I try." He said, letting you find your spot, tucked right into his collarbone. He knew in a few minutes you'd be dead asleep, and for some reason, it made him smile.

"Why are you smiling so much today?" You asked.

"You." He simply stated.

"Oh. You make me smile too." You answered.

Ushijima smiled again, nuzzling his forehead with yours. Neither of you knew what this new step was exactly, but both of you knew that it was one you wanted to take.

"I hate math." You stated, shoving your math book away carefully.

"It's useful though.

"Keji..Hush." He shrugged.

"There's nothing interesting about it though..It's just numbers and words, and now apparently fucking letters too." He laughed.

"Yeah, I admit, it's not fun, but it's useful." You sighed.

"But I'm boreddd." You whined, sliding you chair over to your bed and jumping onto the plush blanket.

"Can we just watch a movie?" You asked, mustering the best pout you could. Akaashi tried, he really did, but God you were so cute, all he could do was sigh and stand up, walking over to you.

"You're lucky ten teacher moved the test to next week." He said.

"They did?!" You asked.

"What were you doing in class today?!" He chuckled.

"Looking at you, not gonna lie." He blushed and brought on of your pillows up, smacking you with you.

"What? You do it too, and Bokuto said that you once ranted about how my hair looked in the sun, so I don't want to hear anything about it."

"That snitch."

#haikyuu fluff #keji akaashi #akaashi fluff #haikyuu akaashi #haikyuu kageyama #kageyama tobio #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu #hq hcs #hq fluff #tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima kei #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa fluff #sakusa #sakusa headcanons #oikawa x reader #oikawa torū #hq oikawa #suna rintarou #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro headcanons

[ughthisisntright]

This is For Us | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader | Part 1

Summary: A chance encounter.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 2,069

Next Part

Music. Thumping. Pounding. Wasn't much of an older crowd in tonight, hm?

Bradley was stunned to see so many young people around. Could just be spring break or something but he wasn’t sure. He’d been so swept up with his training that the days sort of melted together at this point. Just as they did for the rest of his squadron.

Top Gun was no joke, he found out quickly. Had his father been alive, he was sure he would have gotten an earful about how not to do things. After being with Maverick for all those years he was sure there were some pretty hard and fast dos and don’ts.

Moments like these where he and his buddies could go out and blow off steam were absolutely essential for Bradley. He felt he’d lose his mind if he spent too long on base. He hadn’t accounted for literally everyone else in San Diego being at this bar tonight, though.

The music aside, the game of pool with his friends was going quite well. He leaned over the table and closed one eye to line up his shot just so. He carefully drew the stick back, brought it forward and back a few times to make sure he had everything lined up properly, then hit the cue ball hard. Two balls sank into the pockets and he grinned, mustache twitching upwards with the motion of his lips.

Turning to face some of his buddies, he caught a quick blur of someone brushing past him gently. A small voice rang out a sheepish “excuse me” as the person passed. He watched them the whole way back to their seat at the bar. Instantly mesmerized, he set the pool stick down and leaned against the pool table.

You sat at the bar with what Bradley assumed were a couple of your friends. Unfortunately they looked more interested in the young aviators that sat just a couple seats down from you. You, on the other hand, seemed to just be enjoying being out and about.

And that was every bit true as he’d assumed it was.

Your smile, your head bopping to the music, and the happy little way you sipped whatever it was you were drinking. Your foot tapped the stool to the beat just as your head bobbed along and he took note of the beat-up shoes you sported. Something he found endearing, though, he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

“I’ll be back,” Bradley called over his shoulder to his buddies. He walked up to the bar and decided to order himself another beer, standing ever so close to you that you might have thought he didn’t even see you there. The bartender nods and turns to grab the bottle before handing it to the young man. He then set his sights on you.

“Hey,” he said with a smile, grabbing your attention. “You look like you could use another. Mind if I get it for you?” He gestures to your glass.

You looked up at the man and drank him in - tall, muscular, fluffy brown hair. This man was the definition of golden-retriever energy just based on looks alone. Fortunately, just your type. And to boot - he was in his khaki uniform that screamed “Naval Aviator.” With a small laugh, you hold up your empty glass.

“You must have a sixth sense for knowing when a girl needs a refill,” You mused over the music with a grin. “I’ll take whatever you think I need.”

With a sly grin, Bradley turns back to the bartender. “I’ll also need a tequila sunrise for this lovely little thing.”

He turned back to you as the bartender was mixing your drink, that same grin plastered across his face.

“The name’s Bradley. People call me Rooster, though,” he held his hand out to you to shake which you happily did.

“Rooster? Is that a euphemism for something?” You raised a brow and tilted your head, earning a hearty laugh from the man whose hand you were now holding.

“No! Oh, but only if it was.” His laughter transitioned to a gentle chuckle and he wiped a fake tear from his eye. “It’s my callsign. I’m an aviator.”

You smirked and shook your head at the man. “Like that wasn’t obvious enough?”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Look at you. I wouldn’t choose to wear that much khaki even if someone paid me a billion dollars!” You laughed, not necessarily at him, but you still laughed. The mirth with which you laughed elicited a nervous laugh from Bradley. He brought his hand up to scratch the back of his neck.

“Hey, I’ll have you know that khaki was a tactical choice.” He said matter-of-factly. You shook your head and laughed again.

“And what tactical purpose does khaki serve?”

“Look at us,” he gestured to the pool table where aviators dressed in that horrendous beige gathered - no, swarmed. “The enemy will be so busy saying ‘Holy shit, that’s a lot of khaki’ that they’ll never even see us coming.”

You let out another howl of laughter, your friends turning irritably in your direction and then immediately turning away. They hadn’t even noticed Bradley next to you. Good.

“You’re slick, I’ll give you that. Take a seat.” You pulled the bar stool next to you out for him to sit down. He happily obliged and rested his hands on the bar top, picking at the label on his beer bottle. Soon the bartender returned with your tequila sunrise - what a girly drink. He must enjoy these in his alone time, you thought.

“So, Rooster,” You started with a smirk. “I’m assuming you’re only here for a short while? I know the military likes to jerk you around in every direction.”

He nodded slowly, “I’m currently a student of Top Gun, the most elite fighter pilot school in the world. I graduate in a couple of weeks, actually.” He had an air of pride as he explained this to you. You figured he should be proud - he was at a very prestigious school for aviators.

“Oh, wow, you’re an even fancier naval aviator,” you eyed his khaki uniform. “Just need to start dressing like one.” Your smirk was like art to Bradley. The way it crinkled your nose just a touch and the apple of your cheek growing more supple and kissable.

“Maybe someday,” he replied casually, sipping his beer.

You finally decided to take a sip of this cocktail he bought you. Once the tequila touched your tastebuds, it was game over. You were hooked. It killed you to admit that the girly drink he bought you was actually fantastic. You set the glass down with a smile.

“Alright, Bradley,” you started, crossing one leg over the other on the stool. “I can stay for this one drink. But I have to work tomorrow so you’d better give me everything you’ve got within the next 45 minutes.”

“Everything? In 45 minutes? You drive a hard bargain… I’m sorry I never even asked for your name, did I?” He let out a laugh and shook his head. “You can clearly see where my head’s at.”

You let out a soft laugh and shook your head as well.

“No, no, I didn’t offer it. We’re both the same level of stupid tonight.” You put your hand on his arm reassuringly. You then gave him your name, to which Bradley grinned proudly at.

“Well then,” he offered you his hand, repeating your name. “I won’t waste my time around these parts if I have to impress you in such a short timeframe. The beach is just out back, and we’re going for a stroll.”

You smiled at his confidence and downed the rest of your beverage before standing up. You were about to put some cash down on the bar to pay for your drink, but Bradley beat you to it. He slapped down a $50 bill and took your hand. He then looked past your head to your friends. They still hadn’t noticed what was unfolding behind them, and you decided to keep it that way. You shook your head with a smile and pulled him to the door at the back of the bar that led directly out to the sandy beach. 

-

“Oh my, gosh, you’re joking!” Your voice rang out over the crashing waves with a laugh.

“Nope! Right over the damn thing, I swear.” He chuckled at your laugh, the sound very quickly becoming like music to him.

“And you just decided not to land immediately? I would have broken every protocol just to see something like that up close.”

“Well, hey, maybe someday I can take you to see the real thing. Beats breaking rules, right?”

“Well maybe the thrill of breaking the rules would have made it that much better,” Your voice dropped lower, hand sliding up Bradley’s arm as he told you about his flying stories. You’d been walking on the beach for well past those 45 minutes you’d mentioned. You’d just call in sick tomorrow. This boy was simply too good to pass up.

“You must be thinking of one rule in particular?” He brought his hand up to the side of your neck and caressed your jawline gingerly. He loved the way the sunset made your skin glow. He loved pretty much everything about you so far. Little did he know that one particular rule of yours involved him directly.

“Well…” You looked into his eyes with a sheepish grin. “I’ve got my own little rule about dating aviators.”

His eyes widened, but that expression was quickly replaced with a smug grin. Knowing what you were about to say next, he took a step closer to you, your lips almost touching.

“But for you, I’ll bend my rules just a touch.” You grin back at him. Feeling the moment sweep you up, you closed the distance between your lips and kissed him softly. The tickle of his mustache on your upper lip is nothing compared to the sneaky way he gripped your waist. You felt his fingers dip below the waistband of your shorts ever so slightly and it sent a shiver up your spine. The very thought of going all the way with him had you seeing stars, but you knew now was not the time. He can’t get the wrong idea. So, without giving it to him, you pull away slowly.

“Hey, now…” He grabbed your chin and scanned your entire face. “I wasn’t done with you.” He kissed you again. This time there was more of a purpose behind it, like he was trying to prove to you that he was the one you wanted. You let your guard down just for a moment, enjoying the way his lips molded against yours, and the way his fingers assumed their position below your waistband again. The tingle between your legs was not to be denied, and you weren’t about to. It was only when a small whimper left your lips did he pull away.

“I think I’ll let you keep imagining it, sweetheart,” he quipped with a smirk. Your confused expression spurred him to elaborate further, you thought. “I’ll give you everything you want, everything I want, too. But in due time. I don’t graduate for another couple of weeks.”

You rested your head down on his shoulder, his hand coming to caress your back and fingers to run through your hair. You closed your eyes and let out a soft laugh.

“So this means you’re going to take me on a proper date, yeah?” Your voice was soft but it could still be heard over the crashing waves behind you.

“Yes, sweetheart,” Bradley chuckles as he speaks and kisses your head. “I think… I’ll pick you up tomorrow night. Six o’clock sharp. And I want you to wear something pretty. Gotta show you off.”

You look up at him now with narrowed eyes, but the way he looks at you melts the hard expression you wear into a softer one. You smile and kiss him again, which he happily returns. Then, in a swift motion, he’d swept you off your feet and spinned you in a circle. You let out a laugh against his lips.

This was going to be either the biggest mistake of your life, or the happiest ever-after there ever was.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #rooster top gun #rooster angst #rooster bradshaw #rooster brain rot goes brrrrr #rooster fanfic #top gun cast #top gun fandom #top gun 2 #top gun x reader #top gun fic #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster x reader

[specialagentlokitty]

Quaritch x reader - what I’ve done

A/N: na’vi will be in itialics

You loved Pandora, you loved the scenery, the creatures, the plant life, the natives. It’s what you loved about being a scientist.

“You know we’ve got some new arrivals coming this week.” Grace said.

Looking at her, you nodded your head as you pulled some of their files up.

“Yeah, not a bright looking bunch though. Honestly I don’t think they care who they’re sending up here.” You sighed.

“As long as they can carry a gun they don’t care.” She spat.

You nodded your head because she was right, it was worrying how many soldiers were getting sent up here.

You didn’t like it one bit.

Excusing yourself, you went to find something to eat and to take a small break from your work, so you made your way into the canteen, grabbing some coffee and some food and sat at one of the empty tables.

“Thought lab rats didn’t leave their quarters?” A rough voice asked.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a bit of your sandwich and tossed it at the man standing in front of you, watching as it bounced of him and to the floor.

He rose a brow at you but sat down on the other side of your table.

“What do you want Quaritch?” You asked.

“Ouch, last name, really? You’re still pissed?”

Sipping your coffee, your eyes bore into his, you let your gaze travel the scars along his face before you turned back to him.

“Yeah I’m still pissed. You won’t let me leave the base! What’s the point of having a Na’vi body if I can’t go out like Grace?”

Quaritch sighed a little, running a hand down his face as he looked at you.

“Look, it’s just not safe, and you’re still learning. You need to learn everything before you can go out.”

“Right, the same thing I’ve been doing since I got here months ago? Miles you know I’m ready, I know I’m ready, so why are you holding me back?”

The colonel didn’t say anything in response and you rolled your eyes at him, shoving your half eaten food and now empty cup at him you stood up.

“I’m going out there colonel, with it without your orders.”

With that, you stormed away back towards the lab and you started up one of the link pods.

“Finally got him to agree?” Grace asked.

“Did I fuck.” You scoffed, “let’s go we can beat him. Just a little walk, yeah?”

“Sure.”

You smiled at your sister and you both got into the pods, letting your consciousness change from your human bodies to your Na’vi bodies.

You smiled a little, walking out, shielding your eyes from the sun as you breathed in the na’vi air without a worry in the world.

This felt right, it felt natural, and you loved it.

“You coming or what?!” Grace asked.

“Yeah yeah! Fucking hell.”

Walking after her, you were carefully not to step on anyone walking around, carefully farting around you, keeping your tail held up high so you couldn’t hit any of them.

You knew it wouldn’t take Quaritch long before he made his way outside as well, so you had to act quickly and you and Grace darted through one of the gates and into nature.

“(Y/N)!”

You laughed as you heard the voice shouting your name angrily.

“Run!”

You ran ahead of grace and she followed you.

You didn’t go far, you stuck to the trail and you admired the plants that lined it while Grace was busy taking more samples.

You could feel the vibrations on the ground before you even saw him, so when they stopped you looked up, poking one of the mushroom looking plants making it shrink and hide away.

“You could be reprimanded for this you know.”

You stood up, face to face with the colonel in the robotic body, and you smirked a little, ears flicking, tail swishing behind you.

“Please, you couldn’t reprimand me even if you wanted to.”

“Oh really?” He mused.

Grace made a disgusted sound and stood up as well, making her way around the pair of you.

“You two disgust me, I’m going.”

You waved at her and turned back to Quaritch who was still watching you.

“If you think you’re so big get out of that suit then.” You smirked.

He put a mask on and opened the suit, climbing out he stood on the shoulder of it, face to face with you gently poked his chest.

“Not so big now are you jackass?”

“Someone’s feeling brave now she’s a 9 foot na’vi.”

“I’ll kick your ass 9 foot or not.”

Miles laughed, rolling his eyes at you he held his hand out and you held your out, letting him grab it you lowered him to the ground and you sat down.

“See Miles, this isn’t so bad is it?”

He sighed, shaking his head as he stood in front of you, arms crossed looking up.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt, that’s all.”

“Either way next week when this new lot come I’m going to have to go out, you know that.”

He said nothing and you looked down at him, ears flattening slightly, tail brushing against the dirt.

“Can we talk about this in person?” He asked.

You nodded your head and let him use your na’vi body as a climbing frame back into his suit and you followed him back.

He left once you two were in the base again and you walked to the sleeping quarters outside and laid down on your bed, closing your eyes you woke up in the lab again.

Sitting on the edge of your pod, you looked around before getting up and leaving.

You knew where he’d be waiting for you, so you made your way to your room and he was leaning outside your door.

“About damn time.”

“Oh bite me.”

Opening the door, he followed you in and while you sat on the bed he dragged a chair over and sat in front of you.

“Look Miles, I get it, this world is dangerous okay? I know that, but you can’t keep me here forever.”

“As head of security I can, and I will if I have to.”

“Miles you can’t! Okay?! This is my job, this is what I signed up for, you know this. It’s what you signed up for as well.”

He nodded his head because he knew you were right. It’s what you both signed up for, but he just couldn’t bare for anything to happen to you.

You didn’t need him to say anything to know that, just the look on his face was enough.

Sighing, you offered him a small smile and stood up.

“I’ll be okay? With Grace, Trudy and Lyle? I’ll be fine. You know that.”

Quaritch looked up at you, so many things he wanted to tell you but he couldn’t because he was under orders not to.

He slowly stood up, looking down at you he placed his forehead against yours.

“If you get hurt even once (Y/N) I swear to god…”

Laughing, you hugged him.

“I’ll be fine, okay? I’ll come see you every day if that makes it better? I’ll let you know I’m safe somehow.”

He nodded and hugged you back, resting his chin on your head.

And so he let you go on the expeditions. And you kept him updated on what you were doing and that you were safe.

With tensions getting high you were finding it harder and harder to see him, but you still messaged him regardless so he knew.

Jake was learning to be Na’vi, and you were helping him along with Neytiri, both of you teaching him what he needed to know.

Then when everything was going great, it all went down hill so fast.

You were thrown in a jail cell, they were going to attack the tribe, destroy their home more than they already have, going straight for the heart of their culture.

You were broken out, and as you were helping Jake into the chopper you felt something pierce your side and you gasped a little, looking at the balcony where Quaritch was standing, gun in his hands.

“(Y/N) let’s go!” Norm yelled.

You were pulled up and you were off, you leant back against the wall of the chopper, staring at your sister who stared at you.

“(Y/N)…?”

You pulled your hand away, showing blood, and she did the same making you smile a little.

“Guess I can’t even escape you in death Huh grace?”

She cracked a small smirk, and you reached your hand out, taking her hand in yours as Jake barked for a med kit and norm ran around trying to find it.

They did everything they could to help the pair of you, but you quickly lost consciousness.

Miles never found out who he hit, his vision was blurry since he had to hold his breath, but he was told he hit two people and he considered that a win.

But he was worried about you being out there, in the middle of this attack, but there was nothing he could do, he had orders.

Jake begged Mo’at to ask Eywa to save both you and Grace, to help you both.

They weren’t sure if it would work, Eywa would either save both of you, one of you or none of you.

While Jake sat next to Grace, Neytiri stood next to you, running her fingers through your hair, you slowly stirred and opened your eyes, blurry vision finding it hard to focus through your oxygen mask.

“It’s… beautiful…” you chocked out.

Blood trickled from your lips as you ran your fingers through the grace, enjoying the sensation of it.

“I.. I don’t.. want.. to go…”

“Eywa will guide you.” Neytiri whispered.

You slowly closed your eyes again, and all that flood your mind was memories of your life, memories of everything you did on earth, memories of Pandora, memories of him and what happened.

Then everything was black, you saw nothing.

Jake was furious when neither you or Grace woke up he had one target in his mind, one person who he wanted to destroy.

He stood outside, facing directly at Quaritch a snarl on his lips.

“She’s not in there, so where is she?” Quaritch growled.

“You killed her! You shot and killed (Y/N)!”

Jake lunged at Quaritch and their fight broke out, Jake did everything to stay conscious to bring the colonel down for what he did.

But he couldn’t, so Neytiri did, not only to save Jake, but for you, for grace, for her father, for everyone.

As Quaritch felt the second arrow he lost the Will to fight, all he wanted to do was see you.

As he fell to the ground, he fumbled around, trying to pull something from his pocket and he did, and he held it tightly as his hands went limp.

Neytiri carried Jake out, mask on his face and she showed him Quaritch.

“What’s that?” Jake asked.

Neytiri leant down, grabbing the photo, she held it up to Jake so he could take a look.

Jake pocketed the picture and they left.

You gasped for air, lungs heaving as you acrched your back a little and your eyes snapped open.

Slowly you sat up, and you looked down at your hands.

Blue.

#avatar #avatar x reader #avatar x you #avatar imagine #miles Quaritch #miles Quaritch x reader #miles Quaritch x you #miles Quaritch imagine #Quaritch #quaritch x reader #quaritch x you #quaritch x y/n #Quaritch imagine

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Scarecrow Cave

Characters: Reader, Scarecrow, Jason Todd

Warnings: Language, violence

Inspiration: Season 3

Summary: Captured by a psychopath, you walked a dangerous line to stay alive and bring back Jason.

Crane stood so close that you could practically smell the blood from his open wounds. He grinned like the classic psychopath that he was.

“Batman kept his trophies. Time for me to keep my own.”

“Wow.” You gasped with no excitement whatsoever. “You’re on that next level bullshit.”

Crane winced at your words and, in retrospect, you should have been more careful and attentive to the sharp object in his hands. A blur of silver flashed by your face and embedded itself in your thigh. The cry of surprise that escaped made Jason flinch and coil back for a second.

“Fuck!” Crane shouted to himself and pulled away. He swiped his mouth with the back of his weapon-wielding hand. “See what you made me do with that attitude?“

The madman snapped his fingers to where Jason was watching, visibly shaken. “Jay, my boy. My trophy has a scratch, patch it up will you - I need to take a walk.”

Crane chuckled to himself and then slowly sauntered off towards the exit. He hummed a silly little tune and waved the bloodied blade around like it was a dancing prop.

You felt the pain in your thigh worsening and hoped that the man hadn’t severed a vein in the process. Deep in thought, you hadn’t noticed Jason grabbing the first aid box from the Batcave console and walking up to you.

“Are you insane? Talking to Crane like that, it’s going to get you killed.” Jason chastised angrily. He pulled out the gauze and antiseptic liquid and anything else he could think of that would help not have you bleeding out.

You gave a small musing sigh. “It’s a shitty situation. I’m going to make the best of it.”

“I don’t want you to die, Y/n.” Jason confessed.

Despite all this talk about him being Red Hood and leaving Jason Todd behind, the boy that you knew the longest wasn’t beyond help. If you were being honest, it was the most hope you’d had in a long time. Jason poured the antiseptic fluid over the wound and you turned away instantly to take a deep breath. You then heard him prepare the stitching needle for a few minutes before feeling the prick against your torn skin.

Once you were sewn back up, it was like Crane had timed his entrance.

“Jay, how’d we go?” His voiced echoed before he showed up.

Packing the kit back up, Jason stepped back and nodded. “They’ll live.”

Crane stopped before his captive and looked at your features. He gave a curt nod.

“Good.” He said and then pulled out a gun that was pointed to your head.

Jason jumped forward in a panic. “What the fuck man?! I just stopped them from bleeding out.”

Crane held your gaze before they creased as he smiled and he retracted the weapon. “Only kidding.” He teased and then looked at the young boy. “Lighten up, Jay. They’re all the same. They just let you down.”

You rolled your eyes at the back of the villains head. You’d call bullshit but he’d likely gouge out an eye in a wild retaliation. 

The best way out of this was to stay alive long enough for the Titans to make a move or wait until the cave empire to launch an escape. But judging from the way Crane casually sat back on the chair in front of the large monitor, it was going to be a while.

Masterlist here

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #titans imagine #titans x reader #jason x reader #jason imagine #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #dc imagine #dc x reader #scarecrow x reader

[queermentaldisaster]

“The Hunt Is My Muse”

Finally chapter eight! I'm so sorry this took so long to come out, life and ADHD is honestly what happened. I hope you enjoy!

No cws for this chapter. Chapter under the cut.

“Small Revelations and Friends Coming”

Everything had gone to shit. They'd gotten Alejandro and Los Vaqueros out, and they'd almost made it out…but now they were surrounded. Ghost held his gun, standing back to back with Soap, which sent shivers down Soap's spine. ‘We’re this close…this close…and surely about to die.’ Soap thought. Ghost let out a growl, and Soap felt the rumbles from that growl go through both their bodies. He shuddered, and Ghost’s hand found its way to his waist. He let out a shaky breath, and was ready to accept death as it came when suddenly the nearby wall shattered.

Soap’s head snapped up and he spotted a wild water buffalo standing in the wreckage of the wall. He cackled, spotting a leopard next to the buffalo. “Ghost!” He exclaimed, turning the man around. Ghost saw them and chuckled. Alejandro looked confused. “Who are those two?” He asked, causing Soap to grin. “Gaz and Roach, which means the Cap’n ain’t far behind.” He looked at Ghost and nodded, with that same cocky ass grin he always had. Ghost shifted, willingly, pouncing on one of the distracted Shadows. Soap cackled, shifting as well.

Alejandro just chuckled and yelled something in Spanish as the shifted duo began ravaging the Shadows. Soap’s ears twitched as he heard two separate roars, one of which was Ghost, a rage filled sound, and one of which was Roach, a call to his friends. Soap let out a loud ‘wow wow wow’ sound, even as the carnage continued, letting Roach know he was okay.

It took maybe twenty minutes to dispose of all of the Shadows between the four of them. After Soap shifted back, he was immediately tackled by Gaz and Roach. He laughed, hugging them back. “Woah, ye tryin’ ta kill me?” He joked, and Gaz huffed. “Yeah, I’m gonna fuckin’ trample you, fox boy. What the fuck were you thinking!?” He shook Soap, and Roach carefully pried Gaz off of Soap, who fell back, landing in Ghost’s arms. Ghost chuckled, lifting Soap to his feet and wrapping his arms around Soap’s waist.

Soap felt the heat rise to his cheeks, and he just knew Ghost was smirking underneath his mask. Roach stared at Soap and let out a breath. “I feel like I missed something.” He signed. Ghost’s grip tightened on Soap’s waist. “Oh, not much.” Ghost said, tilting his head to the side.

Soap let out a breath, only to look up when he heard Price's voice ring out from amidst the wreckage. “Boys!?” Price called out, and Ghost let out a roar just as Soap let out another ‘wow wow wow’ sound. Soap pulled out of Ghost's arms and ran towards the silhouette of Price in the distance. Soap ran into Price’s arms, earning a sharp exhale from the older shifter. Price held Soap close, his grip around the younger shifter tight. “So glad you're safe.” He murmured, and Soap smirked. “So ye did miss me?” He let out a yelp as Price lightly slapped him upside the back of his head.

Ghost's head snapped around and Soap heard the growl. Soap looked back at Ghost and shook his head. Ghost immediately calmed down, his shoulders relaxing. Price arched an eyebrow. “I feel like I missed a few chapters.” He remarked. Soap chuckled. “Just a few, cap’n.” Ghost came forward and nodded to Price. “Good to see you, Captain.”

Price smiled. “Good to see you too, Ghost. C’mon, let’s get out of here.” Price turned around and led them to a set of vehicles. Alejandro, Rodolfo, and the rest of the Vaqueros got in one of them, and the 141 got in the other. Roach turned to Ghost as they sat down, Gaz sitting in the driver’s seat. Roach began signing. “You’re a shifter? Why did you never tell us?” He questioned, and Ghost shrugged. “It wasn’t important.”

Roach’s eyes widened. “Not important?! Ghost, how long have you been suppressing your shifts? Do you know the consequences that can come from that?!” He signed hastily and Ghost snarled. “Roach, it can’t be that bad, so shut your mouth and-” Ghost cut himself off, quickly standing up and moving over to the seat where Soap was. They didn’t get a chance to question it before Ghost shifted, leaving this massive black panther curled up in Soap’s lap.

Roach sighed. “This is what I’m talking about. Now you and your panther are trying to reconnect, meaning you’re going to just randomly shift and be stuck like that for a while,” Roach signed, rolling his eyes. “Fucking idiot.” That made Ghost snarl, but Soap lightly tugged on his ear. Ghost chuffed, dropping his head on the seat. Soap chuckled. “Big ass kitten.” He murmured, and Ghost let out a rumbling growl, rubbing the side of his face against Soap’s face. Soap groaned, because apparently his subscription to breathing has temporarily expired. Price laughed, grinning at this.

Soap teasingly flipped him off, grinning back, even though the grin wasn't seen through the Lieutenant currently suffocating him. Ghost lowered his head again, stretching out with a content purr. Soap smiled, rubbing behind his Lt’s ears.

The ride back to the safehouse was quiet, and Soap reveled in the peace, for unbeknownst to him, it was soon to be ruined.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty mw2 #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #shifter!au #kyle gaz garrick #gary roach sanderson #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #captain john price #elo writes

[buckysgrace]

21. Life with You

Part Twenty One of Every Little Thing!

CW: Mentions of guns

“Which color do you think?” She asked, one hand placed on her lower back and the other on her stomach as she looked at the paint tins, “What about a soft yellow? I kind of like green though.” She mused as she looked over the colors again. The current color was a beige, but she’d since decided that she wanted to do a different color for the walls. 

“I don’t know,” He mumbled as he looked over her shoulder, “Why not do a red?” He asked as he scrunched his nose up, looking thoughtful as he moved a few paces away. She thought about it for a moment, then found a new idea forming. 

“Oh my gosh,” She exclaimed as she tugged on his arm, “You know what we should decorate it as?” She grinned as she held onto his arm, smiling brightly as she waited to share her great idea with him. 

“What?” He grumbled, looking a little disgruntled as he set the red paint tin down. He moved his arm around her waist, giving her waist a gentle squeeze as he nestled her full tummy up against him. 

“Winnie the Pooh,” She gasped as she held onto her cheeks, “Oh, think about it. We could do it as the hundred acre woods with all of the little stuffed animals.” She told him excitedly as she reached down to rub at her tummy, sure that at least one of the babies was agreeable by the soft flutters she felt against her skin. 

“I thought you wanted to do farm animals?” He asked curiously as he turned towards her, wrinkling his eyebrows together like he didn’t understand why she was suddenly changing her mind. 

“But don’t you think this would be cuter?” She asked him seriously, feeling like her mind kept hopping between different ideas. She couldn’t decide which one she liked better now. 

“I’m okay with whatever you want.” He said with a brief shrug of his shoulders. She sighed deeply, desperately wanting some of his ideas. She felt like he was letting her make a lot of the decisions, almost like he didn’t feel like his ideas were good enough. 

“Gator,” She whined as she held onto his arm, “I need you to help me. I can’t make up my mind on my own.” He sent her a dry look in response as she began to tug on his arm, holding onto until she got his demeanor to crack. 

“I like the farm animals,” He grinned as he wrapped his arms around her waist, then rocked her back and forth, “Like we already had planned.” He said softly as he nudged his nose against her cheek gently. She giggled at the sensation, shivering a bit from how cold it was. 

“You’re sure?” She asked him as she leaned against him, admiring the way his nose curved. She flicked her eyes over the moles on his cheeks, having a sudden urge to reach out and touch them. She felt lucky. He was so handsome and so very sweet to her. 

“We already got all of this stuff,” He laughed as she kissed her cheek, “But if you really want to change it.” He mumbled as he cupped her chin softly, tilting her face up so he could look at her better. She grinned underneath his touch. 

“Hm,” She thought for a moment as she held onto him, brushing her fingers over his leather jacket, “You’re right. Let’s just keep it.” She replied thoughtfully, feeling like a farm would be a cute nursery theme. 

“Yeah?” He smiled as he rubbed her back gently, “Do you want to stick with the blue then?” He peeped down at her again, tilting his head as he watched for any cracks in her expression. 

“I like the blue,” She nodded her head in confirmation, grimacing as she straightened out her shoulders again, “I wish I could get my back to pop.” She mumbled as she twisted her hips about, feeling like her lower back had never been so stiff before in her life.

“I’d list you but I don’t want to scramble their brains,” Gator teased as he lifted the paint bucket into the cart, “Do you want to look at the wall decorations?” He asked as he linked their fingers together. She nodded her head quickly, wanting to get the rest of the nursery finished as soon as they could. 

The afternoon was filled with decorating and building inside of the nursery. Daphne worked on part of it out in the hallway while Gator handled the paint. She felt a little bad that he had to do so much on his day off, but he insisted on being the one to put everything together. 

“What do you think?” He asked as he shuffled the one crib against the wall. Thus far there was a crib on two different sides, but she was beginning to wonder if they’d need them closer together by the time the twins arrived. 

“Cute,” She smiled as she handed him the mobile that had little sheep and horses spinning around, “Can you hang this up?” She asked gleefully, smiling happily at the little find that she had made. The other one had cows and chickens on it.

“Of course,” He chuckled as he moved back onto his step ladder to do so, “Anything else you need to set up?” He teased her as he worked on setting it up. She smiled sheepishly as she held up the next mobile. 

“Hey, I’m helping,” She laughed, “With what I’m able to do.” She pointed out, remembering how he had specifically told her not to do anything that was too physical. She smiled sweetly, standing on her tippy toes as he reached down to peck her lips. 

“You’re doing a great job,” He smiled as he moved the ladder and began to set up the next mobile, “Are they moving around?” He asked as he glanced down again, looking a little ecstatic at her answer. She shook her head softly, amused at how excited he got at the prospect of feeling them kick. They seemed to be most active when he’d rest his head on her lap and just talk to her bump. It was cute. She liked when he did it. 

“Not right now,” She replied, “We’re going to have to fix their sleeping schedule. I’m pretty sure they’re up when I’m sleeping.” She told him seriously as she rubbed her palms across her tummy. He chuckled softly.

“You make it sound like it’s easy.” He observed as he looked back down at her, gauging her reaction as he let the mobile swing in the air. She smiled as she nodded her head, holding onto his hand as he stepped back down onto the floor.

“I hope it will be,” She said wistfully as she stepped back to admire the little nursery. She’d work on putting up the other little decorations later, glad that at least the hardest part of it was over, “Do you want a snack?” She asked him seriously, feeling like potato chips and ketchup sounded good right about now.

“As long as I get to pick it out,” He chuckled, diminishing any hopes of her eating what really sounded good at the moment, “C’mon.” He tugged her along, taking their time as she walked back down the steps. Going up the stairs was hard and left her out of breath, going down them was just scary.

She wiggled around the kitchen, her taste buds already changing as she tried to think about what sounded best. In the end she decided that toast sounded incredible. 

“What are you eating?” He asked her curiously, raising an eyebrow as he munched down on a pickle. She paused as she leaned forward to grab one from the jar, deciding that a pickle would be a good after snack. 

“Toast,” She grinned as she held it up then licked away the butter that was smeared against the corner of her mouth, “And some bananas.” She decided at last, setting all of her little snacks down on a paper towel before she reached for a banana next. 

“Ah,” Gator grinned as he bent over to kiss the top of her head, “More bananas.” He grinned as he peeled the banana for her. She sat on the stool, pausing for a moment as she tried to get comfortable. She rubbed at her back with one hand, wishing there was a way to relieve the pain. 

“They’re really good,” She grinned as she took another bite from her toast, “What do you want, hot stuff?” She asked, glancing down at Birdie who was beginning to rub the side of his cheek against her toes.

“I just fed him,” Gator pointed out, taking a bite of her banana before he handed it to her. She didn’t mind. She always thought that the ends of the bananas tasted different than the rest of it, “He’s getting fat.” He pointed out, making her gasp.

“He is not,” She said quickly, wishing she could reach down and lift her poor kitty up, “He’s perfectly healthy.” She said quickly, loving him despite all of his little imperfections. Gator snorted as he nodded his head in agreement.

“Whatever you say,” He mumbled softly as he continued to munch on the jar of pickles. He looked at her curiously, watching the way she kept messing with her bra, “What’s wrong?” He questioned her, sounding worried as he peered at her. 

“My boobs hurt.” She whined as she continued to fiddle with the straps of her bra, hoping that she may be able to make herself more comfortable somehow. 

“Do they?” Gator’s features lit up, looking excited as he watched her. She quickly shook her head, watching the way he began to scoot his stool a little closer to hers. 

“Don’t even think about it,” She laughed as she held up a finger, sure that she already knew where his mind was going. He pouted as he sat back in his chair, “You know what sounds really good? Corn Dogs.”

“Corn Dogs?” He looked at her confused, cocking an eyebrow as she nodded her head in excitement. She was sure that nothing else sounded as good as what some corn dogs did. 

“Yeah,” She said eagerly as she munched on the rest of her banana, “Don’t you think?” She questioned him, hoping that he might give into her pleas. 

“I guess,” He mumbled as he shrugged his shoulders, “You sure we don’t have any here?” He made a face, looking like he was less than enthused about leaving the house. She didn’t blame him, but she also knew she couldn’t go the rest of the day without a corn dog. 

“We didn’t get any last time we went in,” She whined softly, “Please. We can just stop by the Dollar General. They usually have some.” She told him, slowly standing as she cupped his smooth face in her hands. 

“You’re killing me,” He groaned, lightly pulling away as she began to pepper kisses along his cheek, “You’re sappy, you know that?” He asked her, his lips breaking into a grin as she kissed the corners of his lips. 

“Mhm, I try,” She grinned triumphantly as she cupped his chin, then pressed a light kiss to his lips, “Thank you, handsome.” She smiled happily, giving his knee a soft squeeze before she waddled towards the foyer to retrieve her jacket and shoes. 

“Here,” He laughed as he squatted on his knees. He gripped her left ankle first, holding onto it delicately before he slid her foot inside, then he took a minute to lace it up before he moved onto the next foot, “All better.” He smiled up at her, his eyes warm as she reached down to jokingly pat the top of his head.

“I’m very lucky to have you,” She told him seriously, holding her hands out so she could help him stand, “And you’re going to be the best daddy.” She said sweetly as she leaned forward to press her lips against his again. He held onto her waist, pulling her a little closer as he dragged his mouth against her own. 

Her body warmed as he rubbed his large palms across her skin, squeezing her flesh softly as he eagerly moved her lips against his. She enjoyed the taste of his lips, how they were just slightly chapped as she held onto him.

“C’mon,” He teased her, nipping her bottom lip as he reached behind to give her ass a squeeze, “Before you get any other ideas.” He smirked, looking a little cocky as she felt her face flush. She’d been more than a little frisky here lately, but she blamed that all on him and his dumb uniform. 

“It’s your fault,” She pointed out, taking cautious steps across the slippery porch before she safely reached the ground. She waddled from there, listening to the way the snow crunched underneath her boots, “This is all your fault, actually.” She pointed out as she looked at him, her lips curled into amusement at the way he smirked in return.

“Yeah, well,” He started as he helped her up into the truck, “I don’t remember you complaining about it before.” He grinned, giving her knee a soft squeeze before he went around to the driver’s side and leaving her with a giddy feeling inside of her chest. 

///////////////////////////////////

She looked of the document a few times, ensuring that everything was correct before she snapped a picture of it and sent it to Gator.

It’s official

She typed it as Ruby rambled on in the background, talking about how fun it would be to have more babies running around again. Daphne appreciated the fact that Gator wanted her to stay home and rest while pregnant, but sometimes she missed working. She felt like her same old routine had grown boring.

Shame. Kinda liked being with a married woman.

She rolled her eyes in response, but was not a bit surprised by it. The divorce decree had come in today, officially diminishing her rushed previous marriage. She’d tried to message Hugh, just to check in on him again but he hadn’t answered. She hadn’t spoken to Oliver too, which was even more upsetting to her. He had taken it personal when she’d gotten with Gator, going as far as to move out of the house and block her on everything. She didn’t see how she’d done something that bad. 

“When are you going to get married?” Ruby asked as he put a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich down in front of Daphne. She stared at it for a moment, feeling her stomach rumbling in response. “Mom,” Daphne sighed softly, “I don’t know. He hasn’t asked me.” She shrugged her shoulders as she stirred her spoon around in the soup, nearly not caring how hot it was. She felt like she was starving, despite just snacking on some ranch and black olives a few minutes ago. 

“Well I hope it’s soon,” Ruby said softly, “I suppose there’s no reason you can’t wait until after the babies now.” She mused to herself, furrowing her eyebrows together as she sipped on her soup. Daphne’s fingers burnt a little as she began to tear her grilled cheese into small pieces, her eyes watching in interest at the way the cheese pulled apart. 

“I’m excited for the baby shower,” Daphne admitted, “And for the little mints. Gator’s excited too.” She said, covering her mouth as she chewed on her food. She wondered how a simple grilled cheese could taste so good. She hoped her kids would appreciate her cooking too. 

“Gator can’t be there, silly.” Ruby laughed as she shook her head, genuinely looking amused as Daphne sat there in confusion. 

“Why would Gator not be involved?” She wrinkled her eyebrows together, sitting back as she brushed her hand over her lower left side. One of them was kicking again. She supposed beating was the right word. Their little girl was still slightly smaller, but her doctor promised it was nothing to be concerned with. They insisted that sometimes it happened that way. 

“Well,” Ruby paused for a moment, “Usually it’s just to celebrate the mom.” Ruby replied after a second thought, but all Daphne could do was shake her head. She felt like Gator deserved to be celebrated too. He didn’t have to do the hard part of the job, but he was still going to help with the twins. That deserved recognition too. 

“That’s not fair,” Daphne pouted, “He wanted to see all the gifts too.” She said as she leaned back in her chair, moving her hands to rest fully on her baby bump now. She was hit with a wave of emotions suddenly, fearing that Gator would feel like he’d be rejected from the whole ordeal. 

“I guess he could come,” Ruby replied quickly, “It’s just going to be with a lot of girls.” She pointed out, raising an eyebrow as if she thought Daphne might change her mind. Daphne thought about it for a moment, not wanting him to get embarrassed again. She paused before she made a final decision. 

“Daddy will come. Roy too, if he wants,” Daphne said at last, “And Oliver and August.” She said firmly as she nodded her head, hoping that Ruby would be able to talk some sense into Oliver. She missed her brother. 

“You know things are tense with Oliver right now.” Ruby said softly as she leaned forward to squeeze Daphne’s hand. Daphne exhaled softly, feeling like he was only being difficult with her. She still didn’t understand it, but she didn’t let herself linger on that thought too long. 

“He’s still my brother,” Daphne replied defiantly, “He’ll come. Even if he’s mad. Just ask him.” She nodded her head, knowing that she would do the same for her twin. They were supposed to be better than this. 

“Okay,” Ruby smiled softly, “I will tell them.” She reassured her, leaving Daphne to fiddle with the rest of her lunch. 

The baby shower was small, but Daphne’s tantrum worked. Everyone but Oliver showed up, which still felt like a punch in the gut. Noelle said he was busy with work, but Daphne doubted that it was true. 

Most of the guys lingered in the back, feigning boredom and speaking to one another. Well, except for Kurt. He seemed to have more baby knowledge than anyone else in the room combined. Gator, as usual, stayed attached to Daphne’s side with one hand firmly on her stomach the whole time. 

“I can’t believe you’re having two still,” Daisy said as she rubbed her palm awkwardly over Daphne’s bump, “Does it hurt?” She looked down with an unsure expression, nearly jolting her hand away at the feeling of one of the babies fluttering near her hand. 

“Not now,” Daphne replied with a soft laugh, “I don’t get sick anymore, so that’s nice.” She told her seriously, glancing over towards where Roy and Gator were speaking in hushed whispers. There was something going on, but he wouldn’t share what it was with her. 

“The babies are actually here,” Kurt said as he moved Daisy’s hand down further towards Daphne’s uterus, “Up here are all of Daphne’s organs. They squish together to make room for the baby.” He pointed out, making Daphne blink as she suddenly became aware of what was happening inside of her body. 

“Thank you for that, Kurt,” Daisy replied as she turned away from Daphne’s horrified features, “Do you mind getting me another drink?” She smiled sweetly, her tone oozing honey and sugar as she looked towards him. 

“They packed up already.” He pointed out as he jerked towards the cleaned off table behind him. Daphne suddenly felt nauseous, wondering if all the baby mints were going to make a reappearance. 

“Ask Gator, he can get me one,” Daisy said with a nod of her head, staying silent until he was out of ear shot, “I’m sorry about him.” She shook her head, blonde curls flying as she laughed softly. 

“I mean,” Daphne paused for a moment, “He’s not wrong.” She said as she wrinkled her eyebrows together, thinking about her textbooks in college that she had read. 

“So will you be in labor longer?” Daisy questioned as she joined her on the bench, “How does that go?” She wrinkled her eyebrows together, her blue eyes inquisitive as she poked a finger against Daphne’s bump again. 

“I don’t know,” Daphne replied as she looked around for her mom, “I think it’s similar to how long your mom was in labor.” She thought about it for a moment, sure that she had heard that from somewhere. 

“Great,” Daisy mumbled as she thought to herself, “Well, I’m still excited to meet them.” She smiled as she looked over, thanking Kurt as he returned with a Coke. Daphne spoke with them for a few more minutes before she hunted down Ruby, waddling towards her with an important question on her mind. 

“How long were you in labor with me?” She blurted out, watching the way Ruby’s eyes widened from the intensity. She paused, looking thoughtful before she answered. 

“Oh not long,” Ruby said gently, “A few hours, six at most. You’ll probably have something similar.” She nodded her head reassuringly, before she gave Daphne a soft squeeze. Daphne tried not to think about how she had been the last born, hoping that reason had nothing to do with the time period. 

“Six hours sounds like a lot,” She breathed out softly as she rubbed at her tummy, “I don’t think I’m ready.” She admitted, suddenly feeling a little more panicked. She was fine with the morning sickness, the constant peeing and the odd cravings. The one thought she couldn’t stand to bare was the actual labor and delivery part. It terrified her. 

“Trust me, you forget all of those worries once you get to hold those little babies.” Ruby kissed each side of her cheek, smiling brightly like Daphne should be more ecstatic. Daphne was excited to meet them, but that didn’t stop the fear either. 

“Still months away,” Daphne mumbled, less than three to be exact, “Not very reassuring.” She nodded her head, suddenly feeling a little warm as she thought about how it seemed so far away yet so close at the same time. 

“Here,” Gator mumbled as he joined her again, “Are you still hot?” He looked at her curiously, tiling her chin up to get a better look at her. She darted her eyes across his features, noting that he had soft bags underneath his eyes. He was working too much. 

“Just a little bit.” She told him seriously, sending Ruby a soft grin as she left them alone. She didn’t want to admit that she had freaked herself out again.

“You look flushed,” He replied as he pulled her hair off of her neck, “Do you want me to get a fan?” He asked as he pulled her hair up high enough to let a little breeze trickle against the back of her neck. She inhaled deeply, trying to soothe her thoughts. 

“I think I’ll live,” She told him gently, “Thank you though. I appreciate it.” She told him seriously, smiling once again as she leaned forward to peck his nose. He always made her feel better. 

She peeked at the clothes one last time before they packed everything into the truck, in awe over the different outfits and blankets and little gadgets they’d received. She thought perhaps her favorite little outfit was a onesie decorated with different colored dinosaurs. 

“Why do you look so green?” Gator asked a second later, knitting his eyebrows together as he hurriedly looked around the room. She figured he was looking for a trash can, but she didn’t need it in that manner. 

“Look,” She replied in worry as she pushed the onesie between her thighs, “Two of them. I’ll be pushing two of these out.” She spoke in disbelief, spreading her legs a little wider in wonder. She had no idea how she was going to manage to do this. 

“It doesn’t look so tiny now, does it?” Ruby teased as she walked by, wiggling her eyebrows before she carried another package of diapers out to their truck. 

“It’s just-,” Gator paused, looking a little squeamish himself, “I’m sorry?” He questioned as he gave a soft shrug of his shoulders, giving her no reassurance as she glanced back down between her legs again. Drugs. She’d need lots of drugs when it came time for it. 

“You best be sorry,” Daphne mumbled as she folded the little onesie up again, “Goodness. I don’t think I want to do this anymore.” She breathed out roughly, feeling a spike in her nerves as she realized she’d be anxiously counting down the next few weeks. She hoped it wouldn’t be painful. 

“I think it’s a little late for that, mama.” He teased as he wrapped his fingers around her chin and then pressed a chaste kiss against her cheek. She lingered against his touch, reminding herself that it would be fine as long as she had him. 

//////////////////////////////////////////////

“What are you doing?” Gator’s voice rang out into the air, making her jolt as she quickly stopped her footsteps. She hadn’t gone far from the house, but she was now on the Tillman ranch although she couldn’t see what the issue with that was. 

“Thought I’d go for a walk,” She said as she buried her gloves deeper into her coat, “I got tired of being so cooped up in the house.” She tried to tease him, but his expression remained stoic. She paused, feeling like she’d done something wrong. 

“Alright,” He drew out slowly, “Let’s just stay away from the windmill.” He reached his hand out, as if she had to take careful steps away from it. She turned away from him curiously, looking back up at the windmill in confusion. 

“Why?” She asked as she wrinkled her nose up, “It’s pretty.” She shrugged her shoulders, feeling like there hadn’t been a lot to look at on her walk. Perhaps it had something to do with the new ongoing investigation, but no one had said that she couldn’t be on the ranch. They were just searching around it. 

“There used to be a sinkhole.” He said quickly, looking a little rushed as she slowly made her way towards him. She tilted her head at his answer. 

“I don’t remember that,” She said in confusion, “Since when?” She glanced around them, trying to find where it may have been. 

“Daphne,” Gator replied in frustration, “Would you just trust me.” He snapped in response, making her eyes widen at his tone. She quickly took his hand after that, letting him drag her away as she tried to think of how to respond. 

“Oh,” She paused for a moment, taken aback by his behavior, “Of course I trust you. I’m sorry.” She said a little softer, feeling bad for getting on his nerves. She didn’t want to make his job any harder. She truly was just looking around. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He sighed a second later, “I’m sorry.” He turned towards her, a regretful expression on his features as if he recognized how snippy his tone had been. She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to figure out what was going on with him. 

“It’s okay,” She replied, blinking slowly as she watched him, “I just get bored sometimes.” She told him seriously, feeling a little sheepish as she struggled to keep up with his long strides. It was like he was trying to put as much distance between her and the windmill as possible. She was perplexed. 

“I get it,” He mumbled, “Maybe you should look into being a Vet. Or you know, posting your songs online.” He smiled a little, making their conversation a little softer as she felt relief spreading over her. He wasn’t really mad then. 

“You think I’d get views like that?” She asked him playfully, sure that no one would actually pay her any mind. It was all just a silly dream. She wasn’t born to be a singer and she supposed that was alright. She was happy with where she got regardless. 

“Oh yeah,” He smiled as he looked at her, “You have the prettiest voice I know.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her closer to him as she moved an arm around his waist. His vest slightly dug into her chest, making it just a little uncomfortable but nothing unbearable. 

“You’re funny,” She nudged him as they walked, “But thank you.” She told him softly, pleased that he thought so highly of her. She buried the growing curiosity in the back of her mind, deciding that it was better to trust him than to question everything. 

He helped her into the tub later that night, sitting behind her and massaging her back as the bubbles slowly died around them. She had her hair pulled into a bun, her knees pressed into her chest as Gator vented about something dumb Nugent had done today. She appreciated it when he spoke to her about work. It made her feel like he really did trust her, like there was nothing wrong. 

“Shoot!” She cursed as she turned away from him quickly, doing her best to rise from the tub as fast as she could, “Gosh darn it.” She groaned, her knees feeling weak and her upper body all too heavy as the water sloshed around them.

“Where are you going?” He asked with a chuckle, his eyebrows crinkled in amusement as his freshly washed hair dangled around his forehead. She weakly rolled onto her knees, trying to push herself up. 

“I forgot about the food!” She protested, “Oh shoot.” She sighed, worried about slipping as reached for the handle on the other side of the tub. 

“I can get it,” He laughed as he gently nudged her back down into the tub, “Don’t worry about it.” He reassured her, standing easily as the water dripped off of his long legs. She huffed, knowing that if it weren’t for the twins that she’d be able to stand a lot easier and faster than he could. 

He came back a few minutes later, the towel still tightly wrapped around his waist as he cheekily held out two hands for her, “Figured you’d still be stuck in here.” He teased as he helped her stand, leaving her mumbling as he handed her the purple fluffy towel that she loved so dearly. 

Once she was dried off and in her pajamas she waddled her way to the kitchen with Gator, trying not to stare too intensely at his chest hair that poked free from his wife beater. She couldn’t stare too long or she knew that she’d no longer be hungry for food at all. 

“What are they investigating?” She asked him curiously once they were sitting at the table. She was quite happy that none of the food had burned, and had just become a nice crispy color. She picked at hers, diving into the cheese right away. 

“Some dumb disappearance,” He mumbled as he stabbed his fork into his stuffed pepper, “They’re gonna search near the ranch.” He clarified, shaking his head like it was a ridiculous thing to do. She thought so too. 

“They think the bodies went missing around here?” She asked, feeling her jaw go slack, “That’s insane. Why would they think that?” She asked him seriously. When he’d mentioned it before, he hadn’t said anything about the disappearances. 

“People are dumb,” Gator chuckled softly, “Don’t worry about it. They’re not going to find anything.” He smiled as he took a swig from his Mountain Dew as she felt her thoughts begin to wander. 

“Still,” Daphne replied a second later, “Obviously nothing is wrong, but it’s like what if they do find something?” She meant it in a lighter manner, but he didn’t seem to take it that way. She thought it would be just their luck if they found some old body out near the ranch. 

“They won’t,” He dismissed her, “There’s nothing to find.” He said shortly, his features tightening up as he stabbed at his food a little harder. She stared at him for a moment, still not used to how snippy his tone could get. 

“Of course,” She responded quickly, “I know that. Do I get to see you on the job then?” She decided to tease him instead, figuring that was better than going into details about what exactly he’d be doing. He didn’t seem to like to discuss it when it came to the ranch. 

“I guess,” He grinned as he looked at her, “Don’t look too excited.”

////////////////////////////////////////////

Doing laundry took a lot more effort as the months to her due date grew closer. Gator went through a lot of clothes because of work and from the days that he helped his dad on the ranch. Which was most days.

She held a basket against her waist, slowly descending sideways down the stairs. She’d tried talking to him about leaving his dirty clothes in the hampers on the ground floor, but he always forgot. 

He had unofficially taken claim over the basement as he had set up a large majority of his posters and pictures of them on the walls. He had Rex’s tank set up down there, along with his video game systems and a locked cabinet of guns that she had no desire to mess with.

“Gator,” She mumbled underneath her breath, sure that she would have to remind him once again that it was very hard for her to bend over at the moment, “Damn it.” She sighed, wincing as she slowly squatted down to pick up a discarded sock. 

She stalled as she noticed a large bag that was hurriedly stuffed underneath the futon. She rested her palms on her knees for a moment before she leaned down, groaning as she pulled the heavy bag free.

She unzipped it, her eyes widening as she looked at what was inside of it. She looked at the heavy materials, unsure of how he had managed to stuff so many inside as she gently brushed her fingers over the zipper of the bag.

She knew that he had guns and that didn’t bother her. Her dad had guns. She’d grown up around guns. But this made her nervous. There were a bunch and they were all semi automatics. She stared at them for another moment before she zipped up the bag, suddenly sure that this had nothing to do with his job. 

“You’ll never guess who I saw today,” Gator spoke as he came inside the house that night, carrying in a gust of later winter wind as he did so, “It was-, what are you doing?” She had the bag placed on the table, had it opened so he could see it as soon as he came in. 

“Why do you have all of these?” She asked him seriously, placing one hand on her hip as she stared at him in disbelief. She watched the way he quickly walked forward, his eyes looking anywhere but her as he placed all the guns back inside of the bag. 

“Where did you find that?” He mumbled as he rapidly zipped it up, “S’dangerous. You don’t need to be messin’ with it.” He glanced at her sternly before he moved the bag over his shoulder, looking at her as if she had done something wrong. 

“I wasn’t messing,” She said in defense of herself, “I was trying to get your dirty socks when I saw it. Why do you have all those guns?” She asked him again, waddling behind him as he began to make his way back down to the basement. She cursed underneath her breath, gripping the railing as she slowly side stepped her way back down. 

“It’s for work.” He dismissed her as he began to open his gun cabinet, exposing the items that she already knew he had. He roughly shoved the bag inside there, then slammed it shut then quickly locked it. 

“Then why are they here?” She asked him in disbelief, unsure of why he’d need his work guns at their house. She shook her head, watching the way his shoulders sagged as he turned his attention towards her. 

“They won’t be long,” He reassured her as he took a step forward, “I’m just holding them for my dad, just for a while.” He tried to brush her off, genuinely trying to make the whole thing out to be no big deal. She knew better than that. She knew him too well. He was trying to avoid the situation. 

“Is this about the investig-,”

“Hey,” He stopped her as he cupped her jaw, squeezing softly, “You don’t need to be worrying about any of this. He just wasn’t supposed to buy those just yet. He’s still waiting for the money to process through the county.” He explained softly, his brown eyes meeting hers in a soft reassurance. She stared up at him, trying to find it in herself to believe him. It made sense, but part of her felt like something was off. 

“I really don’t like you hoarding guns here,” She said at last, “And I really don’t like that your dad asked you to do it.” She told him seriously, in disbelief that Roy would do such a thing. She supposed that might come with his job, but it was still messed up. 

“I’m not hoarding them,” He laughed as he looked towards her, “I just can’t take them in yet.” He replied as he gently brushed his fingers across her cheek. She looked at him unsure, shaking her head softly. 

“But-,”

“You don’t need to worry about it,” He said as he rubbed at her shoulders, “It’s not good for the babies. I’ll get them out of here, I swear.” He promised as he bent down to leave his forehead against hers, quickly trying to shut the conversation down. She paused for a moment. 

“Okay,” She breathed out at last, feeling a little better as he rubbed her shoulders gently, “It just made me nervous.” She told him honestly, feeling worried as she took a hold of his bicep gently. He squeezed her arms gently as she tried to erase the worry that had filled her heart. 

“I know,” He told her softly as he kissed her nose, “Everything is safe. I promise.” 

#gator tillman #Gator Tillman smut #Gator Tillman series #Gator x Daphne #Gator TIllman fanfiction #Dad!Gator Tillman #gator tillman x fem!oc #Gator Tillman x Fem!Original character #Gator Tillman x oc #Gator Tillman x Original character

[credince--writes]

Actual

AO3

Fucking hell.

What the actual fuck?

It felt like he was swimming around in a fishbowl with someone prodding him through the glass.

He knew that feeling.

Morphine.

When Ghost came to, he was on the helicopter. The feeling of the floor vibrating underneath him.

That and the searing feeling of shame in his mind.

He can't remember the last time that he had a breakdown that severe- not that any breakdown of his wasn't. Maybe Jitters emotions had gotten the best of him- overwhelming him at that moment.

But he couldn't deny the feeling of terror he felt as he took a back seat to his own mind.

Eyes locked with the collapsing corpse as Jitters pulled the trigger.

That would've surprised him more if she didn't look so much like her.

Like the raw, searing pain of his past life.

His body was moving- as if his brain had shut off but he was still forced to watch.

Watching as he grabbed Jitters by the throat, pushing her up against the wall.

Watching as he clenched his hands around her throat, hearing the popping of the muscles in the neck protest.

Watching as she fought back, and how in some kind of realization he knew what he was doing.

That wasn't Beth.

And there was nothing that he could do to change the past anyways.

It's when his knees crumbled out from under him.

It's when he watched Jitters scramble, pulling the cord around his neck and pulling so tight he could see the white speckling around his eyes before it went dark.

In a way, he wished he didn't wake up.

It was shameful to him.

To of lost control.

To of let the scales tip.

But the look in her eyes as his hands clamped down.

The look of fear.

Like a desperate animal.

He could've snapped her neck as he held her there.

He wanted to for a moment.

But the look in her eyes haunted him.

It was a distinct feeling of letting her down.

And he never wanted to feel it again.

He sat up, much to the very loud protest of the medic in front of him.

"Jitters." He calls out, looking around the copter for her. One of the medics is pushing down on his shoulder trying to get him to lay back down. A protest in his side agrees- the searing wave of pain digging into his nerves.

Price notices his movement, standing and kneeling next to him. "Kids alright." He reassures. "What happened?"

He brings a hand up to his neck, lifting the mask slightly to reveal a thin purple bruise formed around his neck.

"Got put down for a nap..." He rubs the protesting flesh. "'n got stabbed."

Price dismissed the medics, and with a huff, the pair stood and left.

"Soap said 'e found 'er on your back. Putting ya' down I can assume." Price explains, sitting down next to him on the metal floor.

"Think'n I had a moment." Ghost grunted.

"Probably."

Had a moment.

That was their agreed-upon phrase. For the entirety of the group- made sense the grown men didn't want to say they had seen, heard, or felt a trigger. They were above that in their own minds.

They were soldiers.

Soldiers weren't weak.

That was a blatant display of weakness.

Ghost huffed, scanning the helicopter until his eyes fell on her. He finds her, head resting on Johnny's shoulder. Eyes shut and fast asleep.

"Mah' balls hurt." Ghost groans, laying back down on the cold hard flooring.

Price chuckled. He hadn't heard something to the tune of that from Simon's mouth, in, well, he can remember if it had ever come out of his mouth.

Must've been the morphine.

"Maybe you could go show that medic you fancy- give 'er a look." Price jokes.

Simon did not find that amusing.

The statement was dead in the water before it even set sail.

"You gave 'er a gun." Price stated. It wasn't really a question, more of a statement.

"Yes."

"How'd she do?"

"Better than Johnny." he mused.

That dry, sickly sense of humor.

The kind he would kick puppies with.

"Knew it'd happen eventually. You two been goin' at it when we weren't there." Price agrees.

"That's what happens when you leave me as the babysitter."

"You weren't a babysitter."

"Hm... Where's Lopez?"

"Headed back to the base. Questioning. You two did good work out there- be careful or Soap'll get jealous."

"I'd never replace my favorite cannon fodder."

Price Nodded, making some kind of sound of agreement.

"I don't want her in the field anymore." Ghost said.

Price's glance lingered, before shrugging slightly. "Can't promise that forever, but I'll keep 'er off for a while."

"Appreciate it, Captain."

They kept their voices low while they talked, Price occasionally puffing on the cigar that sat in between his fingers.

...

Soap noticed first, a particular sour turn in Ghost's mood throughout the day. He spent more time alone, in the shooting range, working out, and chewing people out.

And Jitters?

Well.

Jitters was jittering about the place.

She hadn't said much about the mission, and he didn't press. She looked like she was about to pop and commit arson. Soap had mentioned it to Gaz at one point in passing and he agreed.

There was usually a point where they'd go through a hard mission- then two in a row. They'd start burying themselves in work and when they popped it was when it got messy.

Gaz rarely met that breaking point- but when he did he'd take it easier than the others. He'd meet with the shrink, take a few days of leave- sometimes even a month. Come back, and be his normal chipper snarky self.

Soap had a bad habit of throwing himself into the bodies of other women. Maybe it was the mental and literal physical release he'd have, but copious amounts of alcohol and sex on his weeks off kept him off of that teetering point.

Ghost? Soap had never seen Ghost snap. At least not present for the action. Price knew the man from some previous operation- seemed to know him much better than the rest of the lot so maybe he had. He'd never spill even if he did. It seemed as though Jitters had caught him in one of those moments, though.

It couldn't of been a complete blackout.

He liked and trusted the girl, but if any of them on the team wanted to hurt her it wouldn't be that hard.

But Jitters.

She didn't 'hold it in' like they would.

At this point, they'd all seen her ball her eyes out, at least three times.

But there was that look.

The one of someone about to go absolutely nutty.

Half of him wanted to pull up a chair, get some popcorn and start making bets on what was going to happen.

The other half really wanted to avoid it if possible.

He sat at a chair that was too small for him in the corner of one of the interrogation rooms, not his favorite pass time but Ghost had asked him specifically to help with the interrogation of Lopez.

This was one of the more brutal interrogations he had seen Ghost pull off, so that was saying something. He must've been working off steam from the mission still, because he rarely busted out the blow torch unless it was dire.

And usually then, when they saw it they'd crack nearly immediately.

He'd been going at it, for shit, at least forty minutes now.

He was wondering if he'd have to go out and get a new propane tank for the little torch.

The room stunk, and even though he was waiting on the sense of nose blindness to numb the scent of burning flesh and hair from his nostrils, it did little to nothing to help.

Jitters intel had proven to be very useful, but they had used code. Locations were all in code, the same goes for what exactly they were shipping. She'd narrowed it down to a few possibilities, but the difference between rifles and trafficked children was surprisingly large.

Jitters didn't like that joke when Soap cracked it.

So when three sharp knocks at the door interrupted the melody of screams and occasional questions from Ghost, Soap's head snapped up. Standing up, making his way to the door and opening it she was faced with Jitters.

Closing the door behind him, a slight hope of his that she didn't see what was behind the door.

"What're you doin' here?" He asked.

"I have some bartering chips." She said, lifting a piece of paper up and handing it to him.

"Who're they?" He looked down at a paper with a photo of three boys running outside of some building, location unknown.

"His kids." She stated it simply. "I know you guys can't exactly leak the information... But I could. In theory." She rose her eyebrows a little bit, giving her a nervous glance.

"I don't think you should go in there." Soap butts in.

"...Why not." She asks.

"Uh." Soap falters.

"You guys have been going at it for-" She stops, raises her wrist, and looks at her watch. "Four hours. And that's taking on after the last shift of people who were supposed to be doing it."

He stood, mouth slightly agape.

Busted.

"You can't go in there." Soap reaffirmed.

"Does Price know you're here?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"Oh, you're gonna pull the Price card?" He sneers, laughing a little bit. "Firey today aren't ya'."

She sighs. "Sorry."

"Tis fine. Didn't know you had it in ya."

Soap cracked the door open, calling for Ghost.

It took a moment, but he popped out of the door, made eye contact with Jitters, and spoke nearly immediately. "No."

"I didn't even ask-"

"No."

Jitters looked to Soap for some kind of backup, to which is shrugged.

"Sorry. I agree with him on this one."

"So I help capture the dude, and you guys still treat me like a baby?" She asks tone slightly turning to one of anger and annoyance.

"Yea." Soap nods, agreeing.

Ghost doesn't say anything.

"Of course." She mutters, laughing slightly.

"You're being cocky." Ghost says. His voice was smooth, and even. It was the tone he used when he was getting ready to bite off someone's head.

Soap knew that tone.

She was getting on his nerves.

"No. I'm not being cocky. You, yourself told me to do something about it and this is me doing something about it." She throws her hands up in the air. "You drag me out to bumfuck, act like I'm your Soap surrogate but when we get back you act like none of it happened." She seethes out.

"You were a liability." Ghost says again, the words leaving his mouth drawled out slowly.

"Yea?" Jitters voice cracks a little bit.

"This isn't some fun game you just get to run around with now." Ghost started.

"This isn't a fucking game, and I earned my spot here. I've earned it multiple times and I've proven that-."

"You haven't proved anything. You are not a soldier. You are a fake. We are not your community service project or your parole officers. I don't need your falsified pity, or courage for that matter." He spits.

Jitters visibly falters for a moment.

Soap finds himself trapped captive in an engagement he doesn't think he should be there for.

"You. Are a scared, weak little girl."

Her eyes narrow. "Yea, scared and weak like Beth?" She spits it out.

Soap has never seen Ghost ever react in a way to words. He kept his composure calm, and collected. A scary coldness was his forte.

Ghost's hands snapped out, grabbing Jitters by the cheeks and pushing her up against the wall.

"Choose your next words carefully." Ghost replies.

"Ghost-" Soap starts, Ghost turns and shoots him a look. One that causes him to freeze in place from his stare.

"Or what?" Jitters starts.

Ghost pauses, and lets go immediately, before turning and storming off.

"What the fuck was that." Soap breaks the silence between him and her.

She narrows her eyes at him. "Why don't you go ask, you're an actual soldier."

God.

He can't win.

...

It had been a few days. But, time didn't necessarily help her wounds. The emotional ones, that is.

She was angry.

And she thought it was rightfully so that she was angry at this situation.

He couldn't just go from the subtle praises, the quiet dinners where they sat together in the mess, to some angry prick who acted like she had no value.

She was the one that saved his life.

But, she supposes he did the same to her.

It was a shitty situation from both sides.

So when she opted to start avoiding everyone, at least until things started to clear up a little bit in her head, she found herself in silence more often than not.

It was something that was thick and crawled under her skin more often than not.

The silence was like a sludge that crawled up her ankles and pushed itself through her skin and into her flesh.

She hated it.

But, she'd rather deal with silence than be anywhere near the members of the 141 squad, or anyone else for that matter.

She locked herself in her office on the temp base, throwing herself into the work that was needed there. Trying to figure out what exactly was going through on those shipments, and where it was going.

How to stop it would've been nice.

There was a horrible twinge in her neck from her falling asleep at her desk more often than not. Maybe it had been more of a fear of confrontation than wanting to sulk in silence.

She didn't realize how hard she was pulling on that cord. Each morning, she had woken up like a ton of bricks had been well- pushed up against her neck, and held her against the wall.

It hurt to breathe.

To eat.

She hadn't bothered speaking, there wasn't much to say.

The medical team cleared her, sending her off to at least try and get some sleep. It was the middle of the day after she showered, changed her clothes and crashed.

It was a dark, dreamless sleep.

But she was glad.

If she was to exhausted to dream, then, in theory, she would be too exhausted to have a nightmare.

"You. Are a scared, weak little girl."

"Yea, scared and weak like Beth?"

She wasn't stupid- at least she thought she wasn't. She knew that was a dangerous nerve to strike on the man But, she'd be lying if her heart didn't drop into her stomach when he grabbed her and pushed up her against the wall.

There's something to be said about realizing just how small you are in comparison to someone. Realizing they could really hurt you, if they wanted to. Shit, if they didn't want to, they still could.

It was cold, she realized.

She was standing in a field, the sky dark. Not a single star in sight.

She lifted her foot, trying to test the ground- it didn't feel real.

nothing around her felt real.

Lowering her foot, she was met with the disgusting squelching sound of something under her boots. Looking down, but unable to see what exactly she was standing in, she began to move. The more she moved forward, the deeper the liquid became.

It passed her ankles,

then her calves.

Still, pushing forward it reached past her knees, then her thighs.

Wading into it, it was up past her belly button.

A flare shot into the sky, a bright train of light broke the monotony of the dark black sky.

Casting a light down, she glanced, trying to see where she was. Try to figure out what was happening.

Then the smell hit her.

Just as soon as her eyes graced the fluid below her.

She was standing in a pool of blood.

Her eyes opened, immediately flickering out to the desk in front of her. A small trail of drool connected to the table beneath her.

Blinking hard a few times, she looked around.

The light had been turned on in the room, and at the end of her desk, there was a paper plate, with a toasted bagel sitting atop it.

She stared in confusion as if it wasn't real.

This was just going to be another dream.

She's gonna grab the bagel, hold it in her hands, inspect it, and take a bite.

And it's going to be full of-

oh.

It's a bagel.

Just a bagel.

Some butter on top.

It had to be fresh, it was still hot.

The fog of fatigue still loomed around her head. Mind swimming in confusion as she ate the bagel.

She finished it rather quickly, not realizing the hunger that gnawed at her gut while she slept. Standing, not really knowing exactly where she was headed but she could make a guess.

After wandering the halls of their base for so long, she was able to make a general map, and most other bases followed the same structure.

She passed people in the halls, even though the night had devoured the sun, people still buzzed about for their duties.

She was walking up some stairs, then through another small hallway.

Up some more stairs.

More stairs.

And then she found a cess door to the roof.

She grabbed the knob, expecting it to be locked. But as she pushed she was surprised to find it swinging open out into the cold night air.

The air was cold. Unforgiving, but it also had a tinge of cigarette smoke dancing in the air with it.

She glanced to the left, and saw nothing.

Just a railing and the tarmac.

To the right, there was a path. A form sitting maybe 30 feet from where she stood. Laying on the roof with a cigarette in their hand, staring up at the sky.

She walked, before coming up next to Ghost. He still wore the skull, and hadn't acknowledged her presence. She stood there, computing in her head what to do.

She shrugged slightly, before huffing and laying down next to him on the roof, looking up at the sky. Tracing the stars in the patterns they formed as they glimmered into the darkness.

"Thanks." She said, quietly.

"Hm." Was all he huffed out, before taking another drag of his cigarette.

They sat in silence. She watched how the cigarette slowly burned into a stub. He just stared up at the sky.

"I'm still mad at you." Jitters whispered. It wasn't a very convincing tone.

Ghost rolled his head over, and shot her a glance.

It was her turn to keep her eyes locked on the sky.

"You scared me." She said, keeping her voice low.

He didn't respond.

"How's your neck?" She asked.

"Bruised." He spoke. He kept his tone and volume low like hers.

"Sorry." She sighed. "Not for that-" She pauses, sitting up, and turning to point at his neck. "But for the hallway."

"You were angry." He stated.

"Price took me off of the mission- the one I was supposed to leave to a few days ago." She said, sagging her shoulders down. "I think I fucked it all up."

Ghost didn't say anything. He didn't dare spill he was the reason.

"I tried to prove it- and I thought I was gonna be fine. But I freaked out, and was a liability. And then when I shot that woman it just-..." She pauses, trailing off.

"Were you gonna kill me?" She asked suddenly.

"No."

"Sure felt like it." She huffed.

"I was still there, in a way. Holding back." He explained.

"I appreciate it." She laughed lightly, sucking in a breath and stretching her neck.

"It's like losing control for a moment. Realize what has happened but you still don't have your hands on the controls."

"And you have to watch." She added, looking at him.

He made a sound of agreement, leaving them to sit in silence for a while longer.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" She asks, not looking at him.

"About what?" He replied.

"Who you saw."

She didn't look over at him to see his eyes widen.

He didn't respond for a while, letting the silence linger.

Who he saw.

It was such a loaded question.

He had to think about how to reply.

It made that all-familiar tightness in his chest a reason to cinch down.

"I saw a ghost."

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x oc #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish #gaz garrick #john price #Jitters Au #cod mwii #Soap cod #COD #simon ghost riley #Simon 'ghost' riley x reader

[dreamties]

Sissy Slaughter W/ an S/O Who Has Sleep Issues!

A/n- This feels like such a throwback?? I remember writing several sets like this at the start of the blog! <:O Like, all the way back to 2021 I think? Maybe earlier, actually! Hope you all enjoy! I love you all & please stay safe out there! 💗💗💗

Warning for: mentions of pot use, poisoning / knocking someone out??? but it's like. done for sweet nice purposes?, Drayton cameo at the end !!

taglist: @friedwormeater @0ddmia @royalsnowxoxo @lambofjudgement @lizve @urfavsuh @strawberry-moonpies (let me know if you want to be added or removed!! <3333)

I swear I've said this somewhere before- but sissy grows & smokes her own pot <333

I'm not saying she'll suggest that as an option but I'm saying she'll suggest it as an option

If your sleep is more than just cumbersome for you- if it's affecting you physically (beyond exhaustion), affecting your ability to complete chores, etc - she may need to bring out the big guns

She knows what plants are toxic, what plants can kill and torture She also knows ones for healing !! (side thought: she uses this mostly on herself & bubba. She acts like a pain when anyone sides her youngest brother wants her for her useful abilities) And most important in this case- ones that can knock folks out !! <333 with minimal to no damage done to them She only uses plants to knock you out when you're at your worst point. When you haven't slept for days, and your eyes are irritated and red. When you're in pain all over and can barely stand up. You might not always appreciate this method- but it can work wonders <333

On some nights, when it's particularly rough for you, she'll stay up with ya <333 keep you company.

You don't deserve to go through this, especially not by yourself. Despite her poisoned personality, she can be a real sweetie around her favorite folks <33 (you bein one of em :3) Do you get nightmares? Is that the root of your sleepy time troubles? She'll sit up in bed and pull you close to her. Let you lay down with your head in her lap as she touches your hair and quietly sings. Lulls you into a safe, cozy slumber- or at the very least, calms your mind. A few times she's taken you outside to walk along the property . . . She shows you critters that come out at night, takes you closer to where she has the makeshift greenhouse set up- tells you about all the plants she's been caring for, what their uses are, let's you engage on the topic too, even if you don't know as much as her. Anything outdoorsy that she can do to tire you out, in hopes if you're sleepier you might sleep better.

Sissy has far more experience and knowledge than her siblings do, in regards to life outside the farm that is- but even she can be at a loss of ideas.

If she's really worried she might go to Drayton, ask if he knows what's wrong with you. (he grumbles throughout the entire process, things like "never should have taken them in", and "more trouble than they're worth" he mostly doesn't mean that <33 you're part of the family now so :) ) It's almost like you're a strange pet that she's keeping, because of how alien your issues can feel to her and the rest of the family. In general though !!!! All of the youngest siblings will ask Drayton about the things they don't understand, even if he isn't very knowledgeable on it either. Even if they don't get along with him much (which . . . Who does get along with him lmao)

"They seem sick," Sissy muses. She's sitting at the dining table, your body lying limp on the floor, propped up against her legs. Your head held safely in her lap. She had knocked you out with a non-lethal poison, despite your protests against it.

The poison could be helpful in getting you unconscious, but Sissy hated using it so frequently on you, especially since it doesn't appear to solve the root problem.

You're still having trouble falling or even staying asleep, she's worried about you.

"Should've gotten rid of it when we had the chance."

"C'mon, you've got to know something about this, Drayton. Ya better haven't given my little darlin' something they can't have."

Your head lolls against her lap, your ears slowly perking up with the noise. Your chest tickles with a funny, loving feeling. Your heart beats slow, quicker as you wake. Your girlfriend was so sweet to you.

She talks to her oldest brother like he's given the dog chocolate. She's concerned and trying to be patient, despite her immense dislike of him.

She runs her hands, soothingly, down your back. Noticing her sweetheart is beginning to wake.

"Oh, why don't we look at that. All this is waking up my poor thing." She glares at him, unintrigued, upset with him. She looks back to you, your head following the noise and your eyes unlocking, staring back at her with such an intensity. Lids hardly-half open. She pets your hair, hoping you'll just pass out or be quiet or something.

Sissy huffs. "Fine! We'll just figure it out on our own. You hear that, darlin'?"

She smiles at you, so sweetly. Looks at you like you're the only thing in the room. Like you're precious and irreplaceable- which you are, to her. Your smile gleams and your eyes sparkle when you look at her.

She whispers to you, helping you off the floor. "We'll figure this out, don't you worry."

Hey, I didn't say he would actually be helpful. just that they would ask lol

#dreamties rambles #texas chain saw massacre the game #tcm game #texas chain saw massacre #texas chain saw massacre game #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw massacre game #texas chainsaw massacre the game #headcanons #tcm headcanons #txcm #tcsm #txcm game #tcsm game #texas chainsaw #texas chainsaw game #reblogs welcome #reblogs appreciated #reblogging helps others see my work <333 #sissy slaughter #sissy slaughter x reader #sissy tcm #sissy slaughter headcanons

[writtenjewels]

See No Evil part 6

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

There was a tense moment of silence after Nick's declaration. Jason's expression wasn't one of shock or anger but of understanding, like a light clicked on in his head. Before Salim could figure out what to make of it, the look was gone.

“I can't see him, Nicky,” Jason admitted. “When I fell, my eyesight got fucked up.”

“Seriously?” Nick looked skeptical. He held up his middle finger right in Jason's face, which Salim would have found funny in another circumstance. Jason giving no reaction to the gesture must have convinced the sergeant. “Maybe the colonel can figure out something. But what do you want to do with the Iraqi?”

Salim held his breath, heart pounding anxiously as he waited for Jason's answer.

“What happened to the demon?”

“The demon?” Nick echoed in confusion. “It's dead, man. Its body is about two feet away from us.”

“Have him take it back with us,” Jason decided. “The colonel won't fuckin' believe us without a body.”

Nick agreed to that and directed Salim to pick up the demon. The thing was remarkably heavy and Salim ended up having to drag it as he followed the two Americans. He needed to find some way to get Jason alone. Whatever was starting to happen between them obviously wouldn't be addressed near one of Jason's fellow soldiers.

Salim was almost glad for the burden of dragging the demon corpse; it gave him an extra weight, when otherwise he would've felt strangely lopsided without Jason holding onto him. They arrived where the Americans set up a makeshift camp. It looked like someone was there before: there was a very old generator running, a huge tent, and what looked like a World War II era gun. Nick guided them to the tent where Salim deposited the demon.

“What the hell?” Another American soldier gaped at the strange group. The sight of the demon distracted him enough he took a moment to absorb Salim's presence. When he did, he drew his gun.

“Easy, colonel,” Nick spoke up. “He surrendered.”

“All right,” the colonel conceded, holstering his weapon again. “Either of you want to tell me what's going on here?”

Jason was the one to speak up, giving a heavily edited version of events. Though of course Salim didn't blame him for not mentioning the kiss. When he was finished, the colonel-- apparently named Eric-- stepped close and tilted Jason's head back to examine his eyes.

“I can give you a solution in eye drops that should be able to heal it,” Eric judged.

“I want Salim to do it,” Jason said. That caught all three of the other men by surprise.

“The Iraqi?” Nick clarified. “Why?”

“Because Eric should examine the demon and your hands were shakin' like crazy earlier,” Jason answered.

“Jason, do you seriously trust an enemy soldier with your eyesight?” Nick gasped.

“It ain't like he can make it worse,” Jason reasoned. Eric and Nick exchanged glances but eventually decided to go along with Jason's decision. Eric rummaged for the solution and instructed Salim on how to administer the drops.

Here was Salim's opportunity to speak with Jason more privately. He found a place where they could sit apart from the other two. He carefully tilted Jason's head back and started the drops.

“Why didn't you say anything?” Jason demanded.

“I was worried you wouldn't trust me if you knew the truth,” Salim admitted with a sigh.

“Not that.” Jason snapped his head down and Salim had to direct it back up, scolding the marine gently. Jason scowled but held still. “I'm not fuckin' stupid. Your name, your accent, your village… I put the fuckin' pieces together.”

“I'm sorry, I…” Salim paused to let out another sigh. “I just assumed you didn't realize.”

“Because I kissed you?”

“To be fair, I don't think you would have kissed me if you saw my uniform first.”

“I donno about that,” Jason mused. “But that ain't what I meant, anyway. I meant: why didn't you tell me you knew how to kill those demons? We've been sneakin' past 'em this whole time!”

Salim was completely baffled. That was what upset Jason? “I killed one before we met. It was mostly by accident that I discovered how.”

“You didn't think to mention that once this whole time we were together,” Jason spat out. “But two seconds with Nicky and already you're comin' up with this strategy to take one down.”

“Are you…” Salim tilted the marine's head back down to look in Jason's eyes. “Jealous?”

“Fuck you!” Jason retorted, which was as good as yes from him.

Salim set aside his reason and the very real awareness of two American soldiers only a few feet away from them. He pulled Jason's face close to his and kissed him. Jason responded with intensity, hands gripping onto Salim's uniform as he kissed back. Salim felt such relief: Jason didn't care they were supposed to be enemies.

“When we found Nicky,” Jason hummed, brushing his nose against Salim's, “I tried reaching for you, but you were gone.”

“I stepped out of your reach,” Salim confessed. “I wasn't sure how your friend would react if we were close.”

“Don't do it again.” Jason pressed a soft kiss on Salim's mouth. “Don't go where I can't find you.”

“All right.” Salim tightened his grip on the younger man. “Sword and shield.” They exchanged another short kiss before Jason pulled back to a more respectful distance. Salim still had to finish administering the eye drops. “By the way,” he mentioned with a smirk, “Nick stuck his middle finger in your face.”

“That motherfucker!”

#jason/salim #jalim #jason kolchek x salim othman #jason x salim #salim othman #jason kolchek #house of ashes #nick kay #eric king

[babybatscreationsv2]

Thankful ch3 (End)

Marvel | Starker

It's been a few weeks since Halloween and Peter can't say he's over what happened between him and Tony. Tony's usual bullying is now tinged with a bit of flirting leading the school wonder what exactly is going on between them. Peter can't help but wonder the same thing.

Rating: Explicit

Sequel to Ghostface

Forever for and inspired by my muse, H <3

Warnings and tags below

Warnings/tags: romnoncon, gun play, rough sex, overstimulation, fear kink, crying, begging, threats of necrophilia and murder <3

A private driver came to pick them up. Tony was the quietest Peter had ever seen him as they sat in the backseat. He had the unmistakable feeling that he had been invited into something private. He wanted to tease him for this formal, rich boy persona he'd put on, but something about that seemed too mean.

Jarvis seemed nice enough, but he was sort of stiff. And he probably reported everything Tony did to his parents. He asked Peter a few small talk-y questions, but he got the vibe that he was being measured so he kept to the basics out of concern that Tony would be judged by association. There was a reason the boy didn't say much in front of this man and Peter would respect that. For now at least.

They drove past the modest homes on Peter's street and found their way into a neighborhood full of gated driveways and three story houses. He wasn't surprised to see that Tony lived on this side of town, but he was admittedly excited to see the inside of such a big house.

Jarvis punched in a code and the gate swung open. They went up the driveway and a garage door opened to let them inside. Another car was parked inside while the third bay was empty.

"You have three cars?" Peter gaped before he could think better of it.

Tony laughed, but it was surprisingly gentle. "I have all sorts of things you've never seen, Petey."

Jarvis held the door for them as they entered the house. The garage led into a massive kitchen. It smelled like cinnamon and apples. Had Jarvis baked the cobbler Tony brought over?

"Come on. My room's upstairs." Tony passed through the kitchen to the hall leaving Peter to follow.

He gave Jarvis an awkward smile. "Uh, thank you," he said.

Jarvis nodded and gave him a pleasant smile. "You're welcome, Mr. Parker," he said.

Peter hurried off after Tony. He was thinking about how different it would be to grow up with a butler as he made it all the way up to the landing. There was a balcony that overlooked the living room. And way too many doors for a house with only four people in it. No wonder Tony seemed lonely.

He followed him into the bedroom. Tony shut the door behind them and Peter shivered at the click of the lock.

"Jarvis doesn't care how much noise we make," Tony purred. He stepped up behind him, pressing against his back. His hands slid over his waist then around to his belly and up to his chest. Peter could only gasp at the contact, head hazy, craving more.

"You- you bring people home often?"

"Are you jealous?" Tony chuckled.

"I was just wondering if you chase everyone around in a mask."

"Nah. You're special."

Peter turned in his arms. Tony's eyes were dark as they slipped down to his lips. A firm hand tipped his chin up.

"And what about you, princess? Are you blowing all the boys behind the bleachers?"

Peter blushed. "Only the ones that hold me down."

Tony smirked. "Did you run home and touch yourself with the taste of my cum still in your mouth?"

"I..." Peter started. He didn't know which was more embarrassing: if he had or the fact that he didn't.

"I know you still get off to that mask."

"No, I-" Peter stopped. He bit down on his lip.

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Are you trying to tell me you're not touching yourself every day after school, thinking about me chasing you through that maze?"

"It's not-" His face burned. "I do but..."

Tony chuckled. "You can't make yourself cum can you? Not now that you know how good it feels to be my victim."

"Shut up..."

He leaned closer. "Did you even get off after I fucked you in the gym? You must be so pent up." His hand touched his thigh. Peter parted his legs. Tony's hand slid slowly up to his crotch, barely touching his cock through all the fabric but still Peter gasped. Tony smirked as he watched his face. Peter clung to his arms, hips rocking against Tony's hand.

Then he stopped and commanded, "Get on your knees." Peter sank to the floor as he was told. "Close your eyes and stay still. I have a surprise for you."

Peter closed his eyes and Tony walked away. He heard him moving around the room behind him until his ears lost track and it was silent. Anxiety creeped up his neck. He didn't know what Tony was up to, but it was probably terrible and he'd probably love it.

"Open your eyes," Tony said in front of him.

When Peter's eyes opened he gasped. "Tony?" In front of his face, pointed right between his eyes, was the nose of a gun. He looked up at the boy holding it.

"Convince me not to kill you," Tony said. His eyes were dark, emotionless. Would Jarvis come running if he screamed or was Tony being genuine when he said he didn't care?

Peter's skin felt cold. "Please Tony- don't hurt me please," his voice trembled. He made a sound, almost a scream, as Tony pressed the gun against his head.

"You can do better than that. It's not like I can't fuck your ass when you're dead."

"No, please!" Peter sobbed. His whole body was shaking. "Please Tony don't kill me- don't shoot me please-" Tears welled in his eyes. He looked up at him and found his face still as cold as before, completely unmoved.

"You're not trying hard enough, Petey. Do you know how much pleasure I'd get out of putting a hole in your head?"

"Fuck me instead, please! My mouth, my ass, whatever you want. Please, I'll be so good for you." Hands shaking, he slowly raised them up to Tony's thighs. He slid them up to his belt and grabbed the buckle.

Tony sighed in annoyance. "Hurry the fuck up!" he screamed as he grabbed the buckle and yanked his belt from the loops. Peter fell back, but scrambled to get back onto his knees. He worked open his pants to find Tony's cock hard and thick in his hand. He winced at the memory of Tony destroying his throat. And that was when they had the risk of being caught.

Peter didn't wait for Tony to get impatient again. He took his cock into his mouth and went down as far as he could. He tried to fuck himself as roughly as Tony had before, but it was so much harder to yourself and his trembling made it so much harder not to choke. Tony laughed at him.

"You're so fucking stupid." He pressed the gun into his cheek. "Use your hands if you can't fit it all, for fuck's sake. If I wanted a useless hole you'd be dead already."

Peter whimpered and did as he was told. He wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and used the other to balance himself. He risked a glance up at Tony's face and was relieved to see that he looked pleased. Peter shuddered as he ran the tip of the gun up and down along the side of his head. He hoped he came quickly because that gun was terrifying. What if it went off by accident?

He gave it his best, sucking him down as much as he could, stroking him in his fist, running his tongue around his cock. Tony sighed and he thought maybe this was it, but instead Tony pushed him back.

"Get up and bend over the bed," he ordered.

Peter did as he was told without question. He bent over the bed and spread his legs apart. He waited, chewing his lip while Tony came to join him. He hid his face against the sheets in embarrassment. Then a warm wet finger touched his hole and he gasped.

"You're pretty hard for someone who's life is in danger," Tony teased. "Are you that desperate for my dick?" He pushed his finger inside and Peter gasped. He squeezed around it, aching to be stuffed full.

"So impatient," Tony chuckled. "Here, this'll keep you busy. Open your mouth."

Peter did as he was told, not even considering what those words might mean until Tony was stuffing hard metal into his open mouth. He screamed and pulled back, but Tony followed, ramming the gun against his lips hard enough to bruise.

"I don't know where the fuck you think you're going," he growled. "You should be fucking grateful your brains aren't all over my floor right now, don't you think?"

Peter whimpered and closed his lips around the gun.

"There ya go. That's a good boy," Tony purred. He fucked his mouth slowly with the gun while two fingers stroked his insides like he was petting him. As if this situation could in any way be comforting, but maybe Tony was just making fun of him again. Either way, it made his dick throb.

"I think you're finally proving your worth, Petey. Maybe it'll be more fun to use you than to kill you." He took his fingers from his ass and quickly replaced them with his cock. Peter moaned as he was stuffed, legs spreading a little wider. The gun in his mouth was suddenly a lot better to suck on as his mind melted away.

Tony fucked hard and deep, making his guts fucking ache and his eyes water. Peter whimpered as he did his best to keep sucking on the gun until Tony finally took it away.

"Say thank you, Peter." He gripped both of his hips, moving faster, making his toes curl and his fingers dig into the sheets.

"Thank you, Tony, thank you," Peter gasped.

Tony pulled back on his hair. "For what?"

"Thank you for not killing me."

"And?"

"For using me instead," he sobbed.

Tony laughed in his ear. "You're a stupid fucking whore, you know that? At least you know how to spread your legs."

Peter whined. "Please, Tony."

"Please what, slut?"

"Please can I cum?"

Tony laughed. "Already?"

"Feels so good, please," Peter moaned. Tony's cock in his ass and his own dick rubbing against the bed was making it impossible not to hold back. Especially when it had been so long. He hadn't gotten off since Halloween. There'd been nothing but frustrated edging.

Tony fucked him harder, faster, forcing a gasp from his lips with every thrust. "Go on then, cum," he said. It wasn't much of a choice as Tony fucked it out of him until he screamed, tears forming in his eyes. And he kept cumming for longer than he thought he could. And when it finally stopped Peter was left sobbing.

"It hurts," he complained.

"Should have thought of that before you came so soon," Tony mocked. "I'm not finished with you yet."

"Please stop, it hurts," Peter whined. "Please just cum in me."

"Ungrateful fucking whore," Tony growled. "Maybe I should just kill you."

Peter shuddered. "No please!" He sobbed against the bed.

"Then tell me you love it. Convince me or I'll stop and fucking shoot you instead."

"I do! I love it when you fuck me," he yelped when Tony pulled him up by the hair again. "It hurts and I love it, Tony. Thank you for fucking me!"

"That's a good boy." He shoved his face down into the bed, fucking him harder now. Little tears fell from Peter's eyes and into the sheets. He couldn't stop whimpering as Tony fucked his over sensitive and abused ass. He stayed good, crying quietly while he used him. He could hear Tony groaning with effort, like he was desperately holding back, dragging it out to be cruel. When he finally came, he pushed in as deep as he could. He ground his hips against his ass, fucking his cum in deeper. Then he bent over his back and his teeth dug into the back of Peter's neck until he gasped in pain. His whole body was vibrating with sensation.

He sobbed when Tony pulled out. He was so sore, but now that it was done he realized how good he felt. How he'd never been so satisfied in all his life.

Peter crawled up into the bed and curled up on Tony's pillow. Tony scoffed. "What do you think we're gonna cuddle now?"

"Thought you were a gentleman?" Peter grumbled.

Tony lifted the blanket and tucked Peter under it. Peter smirked when he slid in beside him. "Don't get used to it," Tony said.

"Shut the fuck up, Tony." Peter looked at him over his shoulder. He looked stunned for once. Peter gave him a quick kiss before he snuggled back against his chest and fell asleep.

#starker #marvel #thanksgiving #holiday fic

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

warnings: mentions of drugs, contact high, swearing, concert

Taglist: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @freddiefredfive, @writingkitten

“Norman! Otto! Let’s go!” I yelled up the stairs. Emily stood next to me, giggling at our boyfriends tardiness. Otto appeared at the top of the stairs and smiled bashfully as he made his way down to us.

“Norman should be down in a minute.” He told Emily after he kissed me on the cheek. Wrapping his arm around me, I leaned into his soft chest.

“You two are never allowed to complain about us taking so longer ever again.” I teased, resting my head on his shoulder. “Ever again.” I gently poked his cheek when he opened his mouth to argue.

“I’m going to check on Norman.” Emily finally said, climbing up the stairs. I rolled my eyes and leaned into Otto further.

“What is he really doing?” I mused. Otto laughed before leaning over to whisper in my ear.

“He can’t decide what to wear.” I laughed and quickly covered my mouth in case he heard from downstairs. “I told him jeans and a tshirt but he won’t listen.” Otto shrugged.

“If that boy tries to wear a suit to a Guns N’ Roses concert…” I laughed. “And front row seats too. I’d had to think what Duff would. I’d hate to think what slash would do!” Otto laughed along and turned to watch the stairs as Norman finally appeared alongside Emily. “Thank you Emily!” I cheered. Norman rolled his eyes but hugged me anyway.

“Alright. Alright.” He muttered as he led the way out the door and into the car. “Let’s just go to the concert and have a little fun.” We probably annoyed the driver with our excitement but by the time we arrived at the venue, we had already started to sing ourselves hoarse. Piling out of the car, Norman told the driver when to pick us up. “Why don’t you two get in line? We’ll grab something to eat while we wait.” Emily and I nodded as we headed over to the end of the line.

——-Ottos pov——-

“Norman, the concession stand is the other way.” I called after him as he walked around the building. “Norman.” The man in question stopped before looking around.

“I’m well aware of that Otto.” Norman stuck his hand into his jacket and pulled out a joint. “And we will get the food. But first…” he lit the joint and took a drag before offering it to me. “This will make tonight so much more enjoyable.” I shook my head.

“No thanks man.” I held up my hand as Norman took another hit.

“You’ve been high before. What changed?” Norman laughed. I shook my head and looked back to see if I could see (Y/N) and Emily in line. “Oh. I see now.” Norman teased me with a shit eating grin.

“Shut up.” I grumbled. “But yeah. I bought these tickets for them Norman. I want to it enjoy the concert with them. I can’t do that if I’m high.” Norman took a drag and blew some smoke at me. I coughed and waved my hand, making it dissipate. “Norman.” I groaned.

“Live a little octavius.” He teased and did it again. At this rate, I was going to get a contact high. But past experiences taught me not to leave Norman alone while he smoked so I stuck around. When he finished, I knew I was lightly stoned. We got the food and joined Emily and (Y/N) in line.

——-reader pov———

I lit up when Otto returned, handing me a cup of soda before wrapping his arms around me. Propping his chin on my shoulder, he pressed his chest against my back. I hummed as I watched Norman join Emily. She gently smacked his arm when he leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“You two are cheery.” I mused as I leaned back against him. Otto hummed and started to rock us. I laughed and reached back to run my fingers through his hair. He hummed again and leaned into me further. “You need a haircut.” I teased. Otto kissed my neck and ghosted his nose along my jaw.

“I’ll get one next week.” He responded. “If you want me to.” I shrugged and he kissed my cheek. “Norman had weed.” I nodded.

“I know.” I murmured. “I could smell it on you.” Otto pouted. “You could have smoked if you wanted. I know you do when you’re stressed.” Otto sighed and pressed another kiss to my cheek.

“Man do I love you.” He mused. I chuckled and turned my head to kiss him. “I may have a contact high. He kept blowing the smoke at me.” He shrugged. “I wanted to enjoy the show with you sober but I guess that’s off the table.” I smiled softly at him.

“Well while you two were off getting high, it appears that the opening act is stuck in traffic so maybe there’s enough time for you to sober up.” Otto breathed a sigh of relief.

“That’s good.” He laughed and kissed me again. “More time to spend with you.” I nodded and laughed as I saw Norman cuddling up to Emily.

“Oh he’s worse than you!” I gasped out. “And that’s when you are sober!” Otto gently bit my shoulder.

“Shut up and maybe I’ll let you sleep after the show.” He growled. I shivered as a pleasurable chill ran down my spin.

“Yes sir.” I teased as I turned my head to kiss him again, tangling my fingers through his hair.

#otto octavius #otto octavius x reader #otto octavius fanfic #otto octavius fanfiction #otto octavius imagine #alfred molina #alfred molina imagine #alfred molina x reader #alfred molina fanfiction #alfred molina fanfic

[artdecosupernova-writing]

OC Kiss Week Day 6: Reach

WIP: Misfortunate Sol Pairing: Cal x Sol Timeline: an alternate universe version of events. this in no way spoils the real plot. CW: Fire, death, blood, gun violence. it's not that bad but it's better to err on the side of caution Rating: T Words: 2,150

***

Detective Calvin Logan entered the precinct at an unusually early time in the midst of utter chaos. He was so bereft of his first cup of coffee, however, that he didn't even notice the state of the place until he attempted to rectify his delayed caffeine situation.

He grumbled under his breath as he poured already-aging coffee into the first mug he got his hands on—a stout metal cup the police captain had brought in from his time in the war.

Cal looked up and squinted at the cops running around, papers flying, telephone operators being yelled at. He almost didn't catch himself in time before he overflowed the cup and coffee splashed onto the floor at his feet.

"What's goin' on?" he asked Officer Melvin Funkwhistle on his way past at nearly the speed of a barreling train. For a brief instant Cal mused to himself that perhaps the officer was running away from his unfortunate name, and he found he had trouble tamping down the distracted grin that formed on his face in response.

"There's something happening at the Majesty Hotel," Funkwhistle said over his shoulder. "Captain's sending out cars to handle it."

Cal frowned alongside his first sip of coffee and couldn't even enjoy it. "The Majesty? What's happening at the Majesty?"

Funkwhistle was already gone, but Captain O'Reilly stepped into his line of vision as a decent substitute. He tugged at his Sam Browne belt and addressed Cal with seriousness bordering unpleasant at such an early time of day.

"We got a call about an hour ago regarding a possible hostage situation," O'Reilly said, his thick mustache twitching. "We believe the guests and staff are being kept prisoner by an unknown assailant. There's been a fire allegedly set—"

Where the news of a strange person holding the hotel hostage previously did not jar Cal fully out of his bleariness, the news of a possible fire rattled him enough to send a drop of coffee into the wrong pipe.

He hacked around the offending liquid and pounded a fist into his chest. "A fire—Captain?!" He stared with wild eyes at his boss, disposing of his coffee and the cup into the trash can beside him. "I gotta...you gotta let me—"

"No," O'Reilly barked immediately, all but diving into the trash to retrieve the cup. "We have enough cars headed that way now. You'll get a chance when the situation is dealt with—"

All Cal could think about was Solomon Maxwell Iron. If the guests and the staff were being held hostage, that meant Sol, too. The strangeness of having had a heated argument with him the previous night about something trivial—about how Cal couldn't seem to leave the poor man alone regarding the deaths that followed him everywhere—and now he was likely in grievous danger...

"You got this call an hour ago?!" Cal roared suddenly. He felt the color leaving his face as surely as he felt disbelief boiling into rage in the pit of his chest. "And you're just now controlling the situation?!"

"The legitimacy—"

Cal did not think the captain was incompetent. He always respected him, held him in high regard in the day-to-day, which is why this display of suspicion surprised him.

All he could recall of the following sequence of events was grunting something about his acceptance toward being fired later, then tearing down the somewhat busy street in a screaming squad car, his arms burning from the urgency of cranking the siren and avoiding a collision all at once.

His heart leapt into his throat as soon as he careened around the final corner leading to the Majesty Hotel, and it had little to do with nearly flattening the officer directing traffic at that particular intersection.

A plume of thick, black smoke curled up from somewhere on the building, pouring into the sky not unlike Cal's unhelpful coffee into the frazzled captain's war cup.

"C'mon," Cal muttered partially to Sol, who definitively was not anywhere around, and partially to the living obstacles standing between him and the hotel. "C'mon, kid, please make a damn fool outta me."

By some miracle he managed to put the car in park somewhere he wouldn't remember later before sprinting into the gaggle of police gathered across the road from the hotel.

"Get me in there," he demanded, utterly disinterested in having a chance to catch his breath. "If that fire spreads—"

Sergeant Pickering swung around to aim a bullhorn in Cal's face. "The fire brigade is on the way," he said into the device, slowly and with force as if scolding a child for the tenth time in as many minutes, "do not even breathe at that hotel until I have given the all-clear, Logan."

"The fire brigade's on the way, meanwhile a possible mass murderer has a buffet of choice at their fingertips while we stand around waiting," Cal snapped.

"Which is precisely why we are not to rush in without a plan," Pickering retorted, waving some of his subordinate officers away. "This calamity is dangerous and sensitive. We can't risk anything going wrong, here."

Cal dropped steely eyes onto Pickering from his outside assessment of the hotel. He'd never felt this riled up, this feral with fear and determination before in his life. "Where's the assailant?"

"We've determined they're possibly based on the top floor, where the fire is located—"

"Are the elevators operational?"

"No, and furthermore—"

"If I fail, shoot me," Cal said before breaking into another sprint away from the assaulting bullhorn.

Instead of going through the front doors, he veered off to the left, keeping an eye out for the side entrance Sol had thrown him through in his attempts to get the investigations off his back. All of his effort to stop Cal from doing his job.

As he slipped through the unassuming door, the first thing he noticed was that the smell of smoke wasn't very strong in that portion of the hotel yet. The emptiness of the hallways proved eerie, sending a sprout of goosebumps over his arms.

He jogged through the kitchen and eventually the lobby, vigilant for any sign of life, his gun drawn and ready. He ascended the stairs, pausing beside a body laid out face-down on the landing floor.

He peered down at the body and his frown deepened. He didn't recognize him, but he wore a luxurious smoking jacket stained with a massive patch of blood on the back, and his hair was unruly, sticking up and out at odd angles. A guest, it seemed.

Cal's shoulders tensed and he felt a prickle at the back of his neck. Carefully, he turned toward the doors leading to the second floor.

A person wearing a Hallowe'en mask, a piece of leather with holes cut out for the eyes, nose, and mouth, stood at the door with an arm hooked tightly around Sol's neck, the muzzle of a pistol pressed against the side of his head. The masked person was taller than Sol, taller than Cal, and they breathed through their mouth as if the nose hole wasn't sufficient.

Sol coughed hard and regarded Cal with surprise, fingers gripping onto his captor's arm hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. "D-Detective?" he said meekly.

Cal ignored him. Had to. If he thought too hard about the dark, angry bruises around Sol's eyes, the officers outside would have to shoot his corpse.

He shifted his attention to the masked person, hoping the sheen of sweat forming on his forehead would go unnoticed. "...Is this what you wanted? To set fire to innocent civilians?"

"Innocent in what capacity?" they said. "Sapping society of a living? Marring the economy and deepening the Depression? You consider that innocent?"

The question confused Cal for a moment before he realized what was happening. "What part do the hotel staff have to play in that? They're just trying to make a living like anyone else."

"These people are a cancer," the masked person spat, jerking the gun in the direction of the guest's body on the floor. "And the ones working for them are even worse for providing their services. Why don't you understand?" Something dawned over what little could be seen of their face. "...I wish you'd understand."

"Don't," Cal growled in warning as the masked person cocked the hammer back on their pistol and pressed the muzzle once again into Sol's skull.

Cal lifted his gun and fired. The shot downed the person instantly, catching them between the eyes. Sol stumbled, nearly taking a header down the stairs before Cal lunged at him and pressed him backward, away from the bodies.

"Police are waiting outside," Cal said hoarsely. "Where are the hostages?"

"Top...top floor," Sol stammered. He looked at Cal as if seeing him for the first time. "There's a fire up there."

"Get outside," Cal ordered, taking Sol's hand in a firm grip and carefully turning him toward the front doors. "Stay with the cops. Stay safe."

"I won't leave you." Sol's eyes, not as swollen as they could've been, welled. He swallowed thickly. "I...don't want to leave you."

Cal's chest filled with something he couldn't decipher. A feeling of dread, something strong and intense, rotten and sour and warm and wonderful. His brow furrowed and he found his brain wouldn't form recognizable thoughts at first. All he could see when he looked at Sol was the anger and desperation in his face the last time they spoke. Despite their previous lighthearted interactions, Cal suspected Sol truly hated him in that moment, and he couldn't fathom ever seeing the expression of terror and worry on his face that he saw right now.

"I'm sorry," Cal whispered, squeezing Sol's hand. "For everything."

Sol stepped forward and drew Cal into a gentle, tentative, yet irrecoverable kiss. Then another one. But it was all quick, too quick, and Cal used the hand holding his weapon to swipe at his mouth when he stepped away.

"Get out of here before I have to let the cops shoot me," Cal said gruffly. "Will you go if I promise to make it out of here in one piece?"

Sol, fat tears streaming down his contused face and wrenching Cal's heart into a painful twist, nodded. "Go. Be careful."

Cal sniffed and swept through the doors leading onto the second floor, running through the hotel until he reached the blazing inferno on the second to last floor. To his surprise and relief, the guests were already there, hurrying down the stairs and obeying every direction Cal gave them. The group going down ran into the fire brigade going up.

"About damn time," Cal muttered on their way past.

"Wanna deal with the dead people or you want us to do that, too?" the fire captain retorted.

Cal let loose a surprised laugh painted with mild hysteria, ushering the guests and staff the rest of the way down the stairs.

The cops piled in to pull the civilians out of harm's way, ambulance attendants wrapping blankets around them and hurrying them to safety.

Cal pivoted to look back at the hotel, which, from that angle, looked unremarkable and untouched. Only when he backed up could he see the smoke rising from the top.

In doing so, he nearly bowled over Sol, who took his wrist and ran with him across the street, through the park, and under a bridge. The place was empty due to the crowd that had formed at the hotel, and Sol shivered violently under his blanket as he peered up at Cal with big, injured eyes.

"I figured they'd be angry at you," Sol said. "And I'm entitled to be angry at you, too, not just for what you did today, but after this..." He shook his head, gaze lingering on Cal's face. "It all feels so silly now."

"It's not silly." Cal realized he'd been holding the gun up to that point and he hastily opened his trench coat to holster it under his arm. "I needled you for quite a while. I wouldn't blame you for hating my guts by now."

"If something happened to you in that hotel, I wouldn't have been able to withstand the pain." Sol tipped his head, his expression unreadable. "...How could I hate someone who made me want to kiss them goodbye?"

Cal stared down at him, surprised once again. "Would you want to...kiss me hello?"

Sol looked as if he wanted to laugh and burst into tears simultaneously. He reached up to grasp Cal's face and brought him down, locking their lips together in a genuine, tender kiss that jellified Cal's knees and stole his breath from his lungs. Cal reciprocated, holding him close and gingerly as if Sol were fragile, and Cal decided he was very glad he didn't have to be shot by his colleagues after all.

#ockiss24 #Misfortunate Sol #surely not me forgetting the name of the hotel and if I even had one for it yet lmao #it will likely change in any case #I'm in a hurry so while I'm proud of this piece it's not the best it could've been had I been able to sit down and really write this out