Today’s thought:
What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas (except for our marriage that part is very much coming home with us) scenario:
Idk, just thinking about the various guys going out to party in Vegas (maybe after a lengthy job being successful, maybe a birthday or something) only to wake up married (like actually legally binding married, not just a joke wedding officiated by Elvis) to the person they’ve been eyeing for a while now, not having the slightest idea what happened the previous night.
-🐸
Also I saw that art, I need yall to know I almost shrieked in the middle of the very quiet lab I work in.
[post writing note: so many words… very sleepy now]
oh, you know I have to include Horangi in a Vegas fic🎲ヽ(´▽`)/🃏✨
Vegas Wedding Bells
what’s the worse that can happen after celebrating in Vegas? going back to spend your honeymoon at base? Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, König, Kim “Horangi” Hong-jin
CW: fem!reader, getting married while intoxicated, suggestive
Simon “Ghost” Riley:
the dull ache in his head was the first thing he noticed as he woke up, bright beams of light aggravating a headache as he groans. the body tucked against him was the second thing he noticed, bare skin warmed by bare skin. that caught his attention
when Johnny decided Simon - the birthday boy - needed to loosen up for his special day he scoffed, “‘M turnin’ thirty-two, Soap. I don’t do birthday parties.”. he thought that all the way to America, grumbling when the team boarded the plane. his two saving graces were getting an aisle seat and sitting next to you
“Ghost, it’s not that bad.”, you chuckle, watching as he crosses his arms - for a man that large and intimidating, he was acting like a pouting child. “Could be havin’ a beer at the pub.”, he remarks, eyebrows knit as someone’s carry-on bumps his shoulder, “Soap’s lucky I ‘aven’t wrung his neck.”
the flight itself wasn’t so bad, no crying children or loud snoring. by the time the flight landed at Harry Reid it was dark out, Johnny dragging everyone towards the hotel. you barely had time to shower and change before you were wrangled out to a casino. “Soap, m’not gamblin’.”, Simon huffed, looming next to the Scot as they passed row after row of slot machines
Simon held true to his word - he didn’t gamble. he got shitfaced
the night went by in slow motion, bleary eyes and drunken laughter ringing throughout the group. Simon didn’t know when it happened - when he got separated from the group, when he took your hand in his and left the building. he didn’t remember whisking you away to the nearest church - a real church, he didn’t remember gruffly asking for someone to officiate the sudden ceremony. he definitely didn’t remember shaking down some poor stranger on the street to be your witness, “Gotta— we gotta ‘ave someone watch… yeah? I’ll uh— I’ll grab someone, lovie.”
but, as you moved in his arms, the glint of a pretty little gem on your finger had his eyes widening. moving slowly, trying not to wake you, he lifts he own hand - a gold band snug against his ring finger. it’s not like you weren’t close to Simon, quite the opposite
he’d been meaning to ask you out for a few months, never quite working up the nerve to. now? he’s cussing himself out in his head - married before the first date, drunken vows. your back is to his chest, arms cradling a pillow as you sleep. it’s only when you yawn and shift in his arms does he completely freeze, your tired eyes looking up at him
it doesn’t help when you snuggle up to him, eyes closing as you tuck yourself against his chest. heart hammering, he wouldn’t be surprised if you heard it. at a loss for words, his gaze travels back to his ring adorned finger - fuck, would you be pissed when you realize? he’s liked you for so long and he blows it by marrying you in Vegas?
“Simon?”, you murmur, turning in his arms, chest to chest - still skin to skin, “What time is it?”, a groan leaving your throat as the sun peaks out from behind his hotel room’s curtains. he can’t bring himself to look down, your bare chest to his. when he tries to shift back a little, aiming to sit up, does he realize a third thing - when had he taken off his mask?
dirty blonde, close-cropped hair messy against his pillow. scarred skin bare for your view. nervous brown eyes looking down at your sleepy form
he doesn’t know what to say, too much information being realized all at once. it doesn’t help when you hum softly, rubbing the corner of your eye, soft-spoken words leaving your lips - his cheeks heating up and hands a little sweaty at your words
“S’not nice to ignore the missus, Simon.”, you say, voice raspy with exhaustion
John “Soap” MacTavish:
it was a short deployment, but it had TF141 scrambling to stay alive - practically a week in hell. a hail of gunfire on Tuesday, a close call Wednesday, the group getting separated for two days. it was a miracle that everyone made it back in one piece with just scrapes and bruises
it was a mumbled joke - you didn’t think it would be taken seriously, “We’re lucky as hell, should take a trip to Vegas, huh?”. despite the aching muscles the group sustained, bumps and bruises, you were swept away to an airport. it was too early for this, but it was too late to back out - Price and his need to get to the airport at four in the morning
“S’not that bad, bonnie.”, Johnny shrugged, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he tucked you against his side. between Johnny and Kyle’s chipper mood, Simon’s grumbling, and Price double checking passports and tickets, you were content to just go along, “Soap, I love you, but it’s too early for this.”
he laughed, a little too loud for the early morning crowd - you didn’t catch the way his cheeks heated up though. “Lighten up, mo ghaol.”, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips when he heard you confusingly mutter, “Mo ghaol?”, under your breath. he’d tell you what that meant in the future
the flight itself was fine, Johnny sat behind you. he made it a little game - passing notes up to you from between the chairs, giving the back of your seat a nudge every once in a while. when he passed out halfway through the flight you caught a couple hours of peace… if you could ignore his snoring
by the time the plane landed and everyone was settling down in the hotel, Johnny was raring to go. quick knocks on your door followed by him calling your name - a little too loud for this time of night
Kyle was busy unpacking while Simon and Price had retired to bed - poor John, all alone and left to his own devices. he already had a plan, taking your hand in his and dragging you out of the hotel. a fun night of bar hopping and getting tipsy, his treat
Johnny was confused when he woke up in a hotel room - definitely not the one either of you checked into with the group— wait, what’re you doing wedged against his side? he tried to sit up, the sharp pain in his temple making him stop. how much did he drink? he was at a bar with you, then he blinked and woke up here
bringing his hand up to rub his face, Johnny pauses when he feels cool metal touch his cheek. pulling his hand back a little, his eyebrows shoot up when he sees the ring on his finger - freezing when he remembers— oh no
he’s sitting up quickly, the pain in his head be damned. looking down at you, oh, you looked so peaceful, his breath hitches. there on your cute little ring finger, a matching gold band with a pretty little gemstone. “Ah— shit.”, he mumbles, mind a little fuzzy as snippets of the night come to the forefront of his mind
married - legally wed at the church around the corner. some dingy little say-the-vows wedding house wouldn’t do for you. Johnny, sweeping you both off in a drunken stupor, insisted that you deserved a real, good old fashioned church wedding… not before swinging into a jewelry shop
sloppy vows and dopey smiles exchanged, he was carrying you out the door. never made it back to the hotel Price booked - he couldn’t remember which way it was. instead, Johnny booked an overpriced honeymoon suite somewhere else - champagne bottle cracked open as he kissed your cheek
and now he’s looking down at you as you stir, tired eyes blinking open. it’s not like he regrets marrying you - he would love to marry you, he just wish he had gotten to the dating bit first. there was an awkward silence as you slowly took in the scene - Johnny, his shirt tossed somewhere in a forgotten corner, seated next to you in bed. an unfamiliar, albeit light, weight to your ring finger
when you finally meet his gaze, his grins - a slight, nervous glint in his eyes as you sit up too. “Ah— we— I mean, didnae think that—“, he coughs, stumbling over his words, trying to find something to say. married to one of his closest friends in Vegas of all places, he’s wracking his brain for a coherent sentence - eyes wide when you look down at your newly gilded finger
“Jumping the gun on getting married, huh?”, you smile, voice sleepy as you glance up at him. pausing, your eyebrows knit slightly as you glance around, “Where exactly are we, John?”
König:
König, for all his cockiness and bravado on duty as a Colonel, was less than thrilled to be flying to Vegas. was he proud of his teammates on their latest deployment? of course, did he want to be crammed in a small airplane seat with no leg room? absolutely not
being flown in and out of deployments is one thing, fitting himself in a seat meant for someone half his size was another. sniper hood replaced with a black medical mask and baseball cap, he was putting up with the flight for his friends - and you. was he going to spend money in Vegas? not if he could help it, “Nein, gambling is a waste of money. You can lose your own savings, Horangi.”, he scoffed, turning down the offer to bet when they landed
instead, König spent a majority of the night in a booth with you - drinking and watching your fellow teammates lose money. it wasn’t long before the multiple fruity cocktails got to König, a large hand on the small of your back as he ushered you outside the casino
the pounding in his head woke him up, throat dry and eyes bleary. the last thing he remembered was laughing with you on the streets of Vegas. as he moved to shift, to tug the covers up and hide against his pillow, he paused - registering the small hand on his chest, the warmth tucked against his side
swallowing, he glances down. he nearly chokes on his spit when he sees you sleeping against him, wedged between his body and the covers. headache suddenly forgotten, his mind swirls with different thoughts - had he slept with you? had you clung to him all night? are you going to be disgusted with him when you wake up? did you always have that ring on your finger—
wait. oh no
gaze glued to the ring on your finger - beautiful gem snug on the band - König’s mind suddenly goes blank. when he raises his own hand only to see a matching ring all those questions flood back as his chest tightens
surely you both hadn’t drank that much. he can barely remember leaving the casino though, he doesn’t remember whisking you away to a church - saying slurred vows and promises to each other. what’s worse? you weren’t together to begin with
sure, König has been pining for you, yearning to call you his and vice versa. to be married now? there’s butterflies in his stomach, but his chest is tight with anxiety. you were close colleagues, closer friends, and he carried you back to the hotel as his bride? you were going to kill him when you woke up, he was sure
when you mumbled something he froze, muscles tense as you hugged him closer. “Mm, König?”, sleepy voice coated with raspiness, it feels like the wind got knocked out of him, “König?”. his eyes darted down to meet yours, hands shaky as they clutch the sheets
“Ah— ja, Maus?”, voice strained, he awkwardly glances away. when he feels you cuddle up to his side, a small peck placed to his chest, he’s sure he’s died - or maybe he’s still asleep, blacked out from the booze. “You’re so warm.”, your voice, small and sweet, has him dizzy before he realizes what you’ve said
dead silent, he can’t help the flustered feeling in his heart, cheeks heating up. maybe everything can be normal? sure, you’re married, but— but what if you just ignored that? yeah, maybe König won’t lose you when you fully realize what’s happened… probably not, but the thought is nice
it’s a few minutes before you speak again, he’s sure the silence is comfortable for you - he’s overthinking what’s happened, what happens next, what happens on the flight back, what happens—
“Can’t wait to wake up every day like this.”, you sleepily murmur. it has König’s mind going silent - every day? you wanted to wake up with him every day—
Kim “Horangi” Hong-jin:
he really shouldn’t gamble. he’s shit at it, he doesn’t want to risk owing more than he can pay, but damnit! it’s Las Vegas - how can he not gamble? the city was practically made for him. lights, dice, cards, cash? like a moth to the flame, can you blame Horangi when he drags you there for his birthday?
sure, he’s been to the States before, but Sin City? he’s never had a reason to go to Nevada, but a weekend get away to celebrate? now that’s an excuse to call and bluff. it was a little hard to get everyone onboard with the idea - as much as the team enjoyed a poker night, flying to Vegas to lose money was definitely… eyebrow raising. but, when it’s for a birthday, they can suck it up and play along
the night went by quick, a mixture of card games and drinking as the group paraded behind Horangi, letting him lead them from table to table. at some point they stopped at a bar, liquor flowing and shots passed out - Horangi could hardly move when he woke up. the hangover that hit him was devastating, an uncomfortable ache behind his temple
grumbling curses as light peaked out from behind the curtains, Horangi found himself unable to move - someone wrapped snugly around him, an arm and leg draped over his body. he didn’t remember hooking up with anyone last night, then again, he didn’t remember a lot after the bar. so, when he looked down and saw you? his heart nearly stopped
“Mavsosa—“, voice strained as he freezes, his eyes flutter shut. you’re warm against him, pleasantly so, but he can’t help the guilt gnawing at his heart. did something happen? how did you two end up in his room?
but, light still streaming in from a crack in the curtains, when he opens his eyes he catches a glimmer on your ring finger. time slows down for him as he swallows - a pretty gold band with a cute little gem. when he eyes his own hand time starts flowing again, heart drumming in his chest. talk about a birthday present, he woke up with a wife
he would have been delighted to wake up as your boyfriend - maybe a tipsy confession after a shot of liquid courage, but waking up as your husband? it has his stomach twisting with nerves, but he can’t help the boyish smile that settles on his face. it seems like a silly joke, waking up wed to you
mind fuzzy as he recalls the chapel he ushered you into, hand in hand with goofy smiles, it didn’t seem too bad in the moment. while he might not be great at gambling, his charisma let him sweet talk the pastor into officiating - not his proudest moment in hindsight
and when you cling to him as you wake up, hand smoothing down his chest, he glances at you. you’ve been solid friends since he started serving, everyone knows that if you’re somewhere the other isn’t far behind. and he loves you, he really does, he just didn’t expect to see that ring on you, shiny band twinkling with the morning light
”Morning, dangsin.”, he quietly says, hoping you’ll be just as happy - maybe a little caught off guard - as him. it’s a gamble, his deep voice dripping with affection as he runs his hand through your hair, “Sleep well?”
charismatic man - while he tends to have terrible luck gambling, winning you over was easier than breathing, “Mhm, s’this our honeymoon, Kim?”, you mumble, eyeing the ring on his hand
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Lmaooo just imagine Y/n being Adrian’s coworker at Fennel Fields, and he has fallen hard for her, like he’s full on in love (she is too but he doesn’t know that) and he always looks at her like this (the whole time they’re both working)-
And while their other coworkers think Adrian is being weird and off putting, Y/n thinks he’s the most precious man to walk this earth (he is) and when she sees him looking at her like this, she walks up to him, kisses him square on the lips, winks and walks away (leaving the poor man in shock shshs)
weird guy
A/n: sorry I responded so late to this babe !! but AHHH this is too cute, my heart!!! i had to write sum
MASTERLIST
“No, fucking- Chase!” Your manager shouted for what felt like was the hundredth time, the poor boy walking in with the look of a confused dog on his face.
“Yeah?” The boy replied, his eyes momentarily landing on you just a few inches away, working away, before turning his attention back to his boss.
“How many times have I told you to mop this damn floor today?”
“I don’t know.” Adrian replied, a small smirk tugging on the corners of his lips when he heard you snicker in the back.
While he was getting scolded, yet again, his mind drifted right back to you, yet again.
“You understand me?” He seethed out after his speech was done, Adrian snapping back to reality and staring at him.
“Uh… yeah.” No. He hasn’t been listening to a single word his manager said. “On it.”
It’s later that night when he sees you again, he’s working a table and you’re behind the counter. He stares at you from across the building, and your eyes land on his when you look up. You give him a small wave and a smile.
He swallows, eyes going wide for a moment before he pretended he wasn’t looking at you, and instead looking down at the floor now.
“Jesus, not him again!” Your friend spoke from beside you, noticing the way you both stared at each other. This had been going on for quite some time.
“What? There’s nothing wrong with him.” You quickly defended, quirking an eyebrow at your friend.
“No… he’s just… weird.”
You’ve heard that countless times, not only from your friend, but from all your coworkers at this point.
You frowned, “whatever.” You murmured, glancing down at the register and back up at the people dining. It was almost closing time, thankfully, you wouldn’t have to worry about it for much longer.
—
You had packed up all your stuff, throwing your bag over your shoulder and walking out the back door. It was then that you realized it was only you and Adrian in the back alley, and that’s when the idea popped into your head.
You walked faster, tapping Adrian on the shoulder, coming up behind him. He jumped, flinching slightly before his eyes were met with the sight of you. He smiled, visibly relaxing.
“Hey. Shit. Sorry, you scared me.”
“Hi. Sorry.” You said with a giggle that caused him to smile.
“What’s up?” He asked you.
You shrugged, “I didn’t want to walk alone.” You replied honestly, soft smile still adorning his face. He nodded in understanding.
“Uhm… well, my apartments right up there. But-“
“5th street?” You asked him, to which he nodded.
“You?” He asked.
“Mines is just a few blocks down from that.”
He nodded again. “Uhm, I can walk you…” he paused. “If you want. Of course.” He quickly corrected. “Just… to be safe.”
“Yeah. I’d like that. Thank you.” You replied, smiling up at the boy. He stared ahead, swallowing and hoping you wouldn’t notice the pink tint on his cheeks.
“Of course, yeah.”
The both of you walked to your apartment in silence, until you knew you had to depart.
“Thank you again, Adrian. I really appreciate it.” You told him, both of you staying in front of your building.
“Ah, It’s nothing.” He waved it off, hand nervously going to the nape of his neck. “I guess I’ll uh… see you around..?”
“Yeah. I guess I will.” You smiled at him, and what you did next was something that he swore would only happen in his dreams. You stood up on the balls of your feet, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion until you planted a kiss right on his cheek.
He swallowed, staring at you in utter disbelief and confusion while you walked away, waving to him with that damn smile on your face.
His hand went to his cheek, and when he knew you weren’t looking, he pumped his fist in the air, smug smile on his face.
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ANOTHER NEW FIC
🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞
YEAH!
129 for 🪞:
---
He asks Angie about it.
He helps her carry Dove from the hospital out to the parking garage and to her car. She’s fast asleep by this point. Buck feels a little bad about it. She’ll wake up in the car and he’ll be gone and he won’t have said goodbye. Then he remembers she doesn’t even know him. It probably doesn’t matter. Buck places the crocodile on her lap and tries not to feel bad about it.
“Hey,” he says to Angie after she shuts the passenger seat door. “Why did the staff keep calling her Baby Girl Florek?”
Angie, a kind woman in her late thirties with big hooped earrings, frowns. “Because that’s her legal name.”
“What?” Buck asks. “What kind of name is that?”
“It’s not a name at all,” Angie explains. She sighs. “That’s what happens when a biological parent leaves without officially giving them one. It’s actually a kind of insane story.”
Buck raises a curious eyebrow. He shouldn’t be nosy, but he wants to hear.
“She was born prematurely,” Angie explains. “Abandoned in the hospital when it was clear she had lung and heart damage from the circumstances of her birth. The nurses in the NICU called her little dove because she made cooing noises rather than crying. That’s where she got the name.”
“Oh my god,” Buck exhales. He feels like he’s going to be sick.
“Probably one of the craziest stories I’ve heard since I started,” Angie says. “I don’t like to judge, but… Her birth mother flushed her down the toilet of her apartment building. Wait, maybe you heard about it? Firefighters had to cut her out of a pipe.”
Buck’s body goes cold. It couldn’t be…
“Did you hear about it?” Angie asks, noticing his expression.
Buck nods stiffly. “Uh, early January of 2018? Like, right after New Years?”
Angie thinks. “Her birthdate is listed as January 3rd, 2018.”
Buck swallows heavily. “Yeah, I… I was there.”
“What?” Angie gapes. “You were?”
“Yeah,” Buck rasps in affirmation. “I… I was only four months on the job. I carried her down the stairs and I… I held her…I…”
He already held her. He held her before today.
Buck looks at the girl in the car, through the lightly tinted windows. He can barely make out her face.
He held her, and he carried her, and he promised she’d be okay. And then they took her to the hospital, and he wasn’t allowed to go beyond the glass doors. He wasn’t allowed to check up on her. And… And she was abandoned. She was sick and had no one. No one even loved her enough to name her. No one has since.
Buck’s eyes start to sting. His throat feels tight
“What an insane coincidence,” Angie says. “Oh my god.”
“Yeah,” Buck breathes. “A coincidence.”
ii.
Dove becomes a sort of splinter in his thumb. Well, not Dove, specifically. But her story. The truth of her. What she means for one of those very first big, important calls in his memory of a firefighter.
Everything about it seems so sour now. So awful. Like he’s done something wrong, even though he never meant to. He just did his job.
He tries to go about life normally, and he can. But he can’t stop thinking about her. She’s stuck in his brain, unmovable. This is nothing new for him. He has always been one to fixate. Grasp with an iron grip. But because of that splinter, the grip aches. And he doesn’t know how to relieve that hurt.
He tells the team. Of course, Hen and Chim remember that day well.
“The day you nearly lost your job,” Hen says.
“That would come next shift,” Chim adds.
“Man, I can’t believe that kid was the Pipe Baby,” Eddie, who has heard the story several times, says.
“You can’t call her Pipe Baby,” Buck scolds. “That’s awful. You know her name is Dove. Kind of.”
“Like the soap?” Chim asks.
“No, man, like the bird,” Eddie corrects. “You really need to take the girls on a hike. Go see some nature.”
Chim scowls at him.
“Guys!” Buck snaps at them, redirecting the attention back to him. “This is serious!”
Hen rests a soothing hand on his shoulder. “It’s hard, what some of these kids go through. I know.”
“No one has ever given her a name, Hen,” Buck says. “We saved that kid and then what? Nobody ever wanted to give her a family?”
“Buck, we can’t be responsible for what happens to every kid that we save after we’re done saving them,” Chim says, tone turning serious. “You know that.”
“I know,” Buck sighs. “I do. I just can’t shake the feeling that someone needs to do something for this little girl.”
“Someone, huh?” Hen replies. “A whole lot of people need someone to help them. Someone needs to step up and do it, or it never gets done.”
Buck blinks. She’s right of course. It’s easy to say that about any problem in the world. If someone doesn’t take ownership and commit to making a difference, who will? And Dove needs help. A home. Someone to adopt her and give her a real name. Buck can help with that. He will just have to find someone to do it. Surely there is someone out there in the world looking for a cute, sweet little kid to complete their family.
Should be a breeze.
“You’re right, Hen,” Buck nods confidently.
He doesn’t say anything more about it that day.
▪️▪️▪️
He calls Angie after his shift. He doesn’t exactly have her number, but her work phone is easy enough to find online.
She answers after so many rings that Buck is almost ready to give up.
“Yes?” She says a little sharply. “God, I mean hello. Sorry! This is Angie Hughes. It’s been a day, I’m sorry!”
“Hey, it’s okay!” Buck answers. “Sorry, is now a good time?”
“Uh, well, no? Who is this?”
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