#roll call rescue recruits

[transformers-bold-bright-brisk]

Doing some dum dum homework rn. Enjoy.

[sphnyspinspin]

Wip game

"how to parent a whirl"

Oh my gosh, how I love Whirl and Whirl Jr. lore drama. I may have revamped the plot a bit since I used this title for a different one-shot, but this is a potential storyline, and I was honestly throwing stuff at the wall.

But tbh THIS FIC does this prompt SO MUCH JUSTICE HOLY CRAP! I’m not downplaying my WIP, I’m just saying that this is where the mega-angsty Whirl and Whirl Jr. lore drama can be triangulated.

Basically Whirl Sr. has been psyching himself out, by trying to prepare himself for the talk with Whirl Jr. about his past. She is his family now so she automatically has a right to know how much of a piss-poor example her caretaker was in the far-far past… right?

Time flies by and Whir Jr. continues to see her mentor as this strong, noble, and fun-loving goofy guy who may be a bit of a meanie head sometimes, but means well. Ever since she was a sparkling she looked up to Whirl so much that she took on his name just because she admires the guy.

He may just be a humble clock-tinkerer, but he’s more than that, and she just knows it!

Whirl Jr. was at that stage in every bot’s life where she wanted to do more. Liking helping those you care about in any way you can, just like her mentor always taught her!

And when she got the brilliant idea to become a policebot, of all things, she was surprised at how quickly her mentor shot the idea down.

But that never stopped her from trying. So she persisted and begged Whirl Sr. for a chance to become a “hero of the people” non-stop, until he caved.

Now she has returned home after her second year of being a rescue recruit training at Earth’s, one and only, Rescue Bots Academy.

Whirl Sr. was supposed to tell her last year, but chickened out last minute. He had to tell her now. Or at least until the ‘Welcome Back’ party is over.

Whirl Jr. eventually finds him moping by himself on the rooftop, which transcends into them finally having… the talk.

It went just as expected. Whirl Sr. didn’t spare a single detail about how he lost his limbs. Or his actions while working for the council. Or how he acted during the war.

Suffice to say… Whirl Jr. was in shock, to say the least.

FYI I abandoned this concept and this draft but I still want to do something similar for my AU whenever I do more angst. This is so not revitalized, merely just me typing what comes to mind.

[grandline-fics]

Hear me out please, Cross Guild playing UNO with Y/n? 👀

DESCRIPTION: They underestimate you during game night

WARNINGS:  i don't think any warnings are needed

CHARACTERS: Cross Guild

WORDS: 1,321

A/N: Thank you for this request! I had a lot of fun with this scenarion even though it was something different to come up with something. Hope you like what I wrote.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

————————

These game nights were a relatively new addition to the Cross Guild dynamic, a simple suggestion among some of the lower ranking recruits to pass the time but one made a comment on how it helped enforce partnerships while also being a safer way to get out frustrations of the day. You’d overheard them talking about their more recent game night and became curious, noticing how more relaxed and happier they all seemed between jobs. As you walked by the large set of double doors of the trio’s meeting room you heard the angered conversation and panicked begging from the other side. If anyone needed to get their frustrations out through different means and enforce partnerships it was those three. 

With a sigh you left them to it, having no need to intrude in their ‘meeting’ just yet. After completing your duties you changed into comfier clothes and walked by the large communal lounge to the sound of playful arguing and laughter. Glancing in you saw the groups sat at tables, on floors, or the sofas. Everyone engaged in games or just watching in amusement. You noted even some of the higher ranks were mingling in the groups too. Still no sign of your Bosses though. With a small hum you reached into the cabinet where the games were kept and grabbed the first pack of cards you touched and left the others to their fun. 

You’d made one more stop on the way before you were outside the double doors once again and rolled your eyes to still hear the same muffled nonsense that you’d noticed a handful of hours ago. With a sharp knock you entered. Crocodile and Mihawk glared towards you at the sound of your entrance but held back the beginnings of their yells or threats when they saw it was you. Still they weren’t entirely happy though. Slowly your gaze slid across them and then down at the chopped apart Buggy, meeting his pleading gaze for rescue. “Is there an emergency?”

“In a manner of speaking.” You replied walking towards the meeting table, lightly tossing the deck of UNO cards on the table before carefully setting the four glasses and bottle of whiskey beside it. “Call this an emergency workplace resolution meeting. Game night.”

“Absolutely not!”

“I’m not a child.”

“That’s not going to solve them threatening to kill me!”

“Well then consider this me resignation party.” You said with a simple shrug, silencing their refusals and whining while sliding into your seat, face calm as you poured your own drink. 

Mihawk eyed you carefully for any sign of a bluff but still removed Yoru from its place near Buggy’s nose. Crocodile glared at you, teeth grinding into his cigar and removed his hook from Buggy’s back. With both threats of violence seemingly lifted Buggy gladly reassembled his body and rose from the floor, the only one to openly show worry at your threat. “You’d really leave?”

“What’s to stay for?” You asked, swirling the dark liquid with relaxed ease in the glass while smiling sweetly at the trio. “When I was hired it was to oversee the parts of this enterprise the three of you either lack the maturity or patience or general will to do and I do it exceptionally well. I was promised that I would not be bored in this job but quite frankly the three of you acting like homicidal children with each other is a bore. I’m not your nanny. So what are we deciding? Playing along or saying goodbye?”

Your question hung heavy in the room. None of the men were prepared to lose you. You were far too good at your job and your wage reflected that. They knew no-one else would be able to handle them individually the way you did while also achieving all of your duties effortlessly. The three of them exchanged looks with each other while you sat as relaxed as could be, leaving your fate in their hands. For the first time today the three Cross Guild leaders were unanimous in their choice. Crocodile poured his own glass and grumbled as he took his seat. “Deal the cards.”

“Still, UNO?” Mihawk remarked as he took his chair, reaching for a glass and the bottle once it was free. 

“Like I said, you were acting like children. Needed to see you could handle a child’s game first. We can always move on to something else after?” You suggested with a smirk as you shuffled the deck and dealt the cards. 

“UNO is fairer than other games, less chance for cheating.” Buggy muttered, pulling his cards towards him and the final glass. 

“Aww come on boys, don’t pout.” You consoled the trio with a calm smile as they threw their cards on the table as you won. Again. “It’s just a game.” 

“Stupid game.”

“You thought you going to win that one for sure, didn’t you Croc?” You asked with a growing grin while Crocodile glared harder, wanting nothing more than the skewer the entire deck with his hook. Still he couldn’t deny that this was the longest he’d spent in the same room as Mihawk and Buggy without any real animosity or desire to kill him. You on the other hand, he wasn’t best pleased with. More so because he hadn’t expected you to be capable of beating him like this. While it wasn’t a game like poker or blackjack, it was still cards and it stung a little but he couldn’t bring himself to be truly angry not when you proved your point. If anything he felt pride.

Mihawk was more relaxed about his losing streak, still a bit of a bruised ego but it was going to damage his reputation any. A little card game won out of chance and luck wasn’t going to rattle him. His mood was lighter, enjoying the way you showed a more playful and smug side of yourself now that everyone was getting along. As for Buggy he was delighted to feel safe with Cross Guild’s masterminds, he didn’t care if he was losing the game. In his eyes he was the real winner, that for once Mihawk and Crocodile were at someone else’s mercy for a change. “Another game or have you had enough?”

“It’s late.” Crocodile noted, finally catching sight of the clock on the wall. “We all have work in the morning.”

“Suit yourself.” You shrugged, sitting back in your seat. You would leave after you finished your drink. As you sipped your drink you lazily twirled one of the cards between your fingers.

“Next time we need a better game.” Mihawk stated as he slowly sipped his drink. You felt satisfaction grow as you silently listened to them plan when the very notion of playing a game was  initially so ridiculous. Then the conversation slowed and you blinked to see three sets of eyes locked in on the card still being manoeuvred deftly between your fingers. One moment it was a green 3, on the next twist it was a yellow plus two, over and over it continued, always changing. A small laugh broke through your lips, deciding to finally put them out of their misery and show that you weren’t playing fair.

“Little cheat.” Crocodile chuckled.  Buggy grinned and Mihawk smirked as you drained your glass and rose, setting the cards you’d had hidden up your sleeve on top of the pile of discarded ones. 

“Goodnight gentlemen thank you for a not boring evening.” You thanked them with a smile and a wink and turned on your heel, leaving them with a soft hum drifting from your lips that curved upwards. All three of them watched you leave, each of them now looking forward to the next game night even more although whether they could get along with each other until then was another matter entirely but for you they’d try.

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

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld

[anothertimdrakestan]

Jealous Jason Todd Headcanon

~loooong requested hope you enjoy some brotherly competition~

- jason had no idea he wanted you until dick called "dibs" the first night he met jason's mysterious "friend" and newest bat-recruit

- at first, jason didn't care. like at all. but that never stopped him from being an asshole

- "my brother y/n really? what's there to like? i didn't see you as a musical theatre and dad-joke enjoyer" he'd scoff anytime dick tried to make a move

- that didn't stop richard fucking grayson.

- "hey! y/n! fancy seeing you here!" .. "it's the batcave dick i work here" .. "oh, well are you working all night? maybe we can grab some big belly burger after?" .. "we have patrol together you dork"

- honestly, it was endearing being adored, worshipped even. from handwritten poems, to a little mini batarang necklace, and all the weapons your heart could desire

- and for all his dork-tendencies, dick knew a thing or too about hand placement...

- "put me down richard" .. "you literally fell into my arms" .. "i would've landed on my feet" .. "sure princess, but aren't my arms a little better?" he'd tease, sweeping you bridal style out the back door of the gala you two had just rescued

- it was somewhere in between the gift giving, rooftop dates, and stolen glances that jason realized he might want -slightly, just a tiny bit- more.

- okay; he wanted you all to himself.

- but he's always been shit at explaining it

- where dick was obvious and flirtatious, jason started subtle: always inching closer to you, keeping a longing gaze set on your every move-even if it meant tripping himself up in battles- you noticed he would sooner get shot than let you catch a scrape

- and just like dick's coddling, it got annoying

- "jace i've been on the team for months, i think i can watch out for myself" .. "i know, i protect the people i care about" his response was almost a whisper, and before you could pry further, he disappeared, replaced with a familiar cheesy grin "hi y/n! wanna catch a movie tonight?" .. "uh, one sec dick! i need to check on jace"

- but jason was never anywhere to be found. every time he let you in, he disappeared just as quick.

- when you started toying with new weaponry jason was there, you still got butterflies remembering the way he pressed himself against you while fixing your form, his calloused fingertips lighting fires as he subtly adjusted your grip on your gun

- "jay is this right?" .. "mhm your grip is perfect, but the recoil will get you, slide your leg backwards to brace for the impact of firing" .. the minute his hand touched your thigh a shiver ran across your body, against your shaking will .. "oh, sorry i didn't mean to-" .. you cut him off "no it's good, you're good" but before you could turn around to unpack the cloud of tension in the room, jason cleared his throat and gruffly said "fire" ruining any chance of an emotional conversation. three perfect shots to the targets, and with a satisfying nod he was gone once again

- so when dick asked you out on a real date, to a restaurant whose menu alone gave you anxiety at the thought of ordering, you realized you had to give jason the ultimatum

- but for once in his (second) life, jason was way ahead of you.

- "you said yes to dick?" jason was sitting at your desk when you entered your own room, overly dramatic but it was jason todd after all.

- "do i have a reason to say no?"

- "you hate fancy restaurants. you need like a week to plan what you'll order otherwise you'll just be stressed the whole time"

- you rolled your eyes, but jason wasn't finished: "and you hate movies, sitting in one place watching a film you probably haven't heard of, pretending to enjoy the nuance"

- he wasn't wrong. "whatever jace, that doesn't-" .. "i can tell you what's gonna happen. he'll order a wine too sweet for your taste, and talk to the waiter enough to make you want to crawl under the table. then after a perfectly lovely dinner he'll take you to a rooftop to 'show you the sights' and you'll have your first kiss. but you hate the city skyline, it reminds you you're far from home. you like the sound of the ocean and the rusting of the forest. you like something real."

- your heart was in your throat. but you needed something more: "say it jason. don't tell me the future with dick. fucking say it."

- jason stood up, closing the distance between you, eyes now desperate and wild: "say what? that i've loved you since the minute i lost you? that i feel like ive known you forever? that i don't need to learn to love you like he does, i was built for it? that i feel like i was made for you? how do i put it in a few useless words"

- "you just did jay." you whispered, letting him lock his lips in yours with a smile.

- "please go break richard's fucking heart and come home to me." he grumbled, to which you agreed, letting dick down softly and promising to set him up with one of your friends in return for his kindness- a deal which he wouldn't let you forget

- years later, it was more of a household joke, dick claiming he was the catalyst to your and jason's lovestory. to which jason wholly despised, but you never minded giving dick a little credit

[kallie-den]

Rescue Hound Chapter One

Kione Monax, a mercenary pilot, is hired to rescue the captured, brainwashed Sartha Thrace. But getting her home and healing her mind prove to be very different things - and Kione's feelings for the hero threaten to pull her into the darkness when she discovers just how malleable Sartha can be

A new Warhound story!! The preceding stories can be found at this tag

If you enjoy my work and are looking for more, or you want to support me, I strongly encourage you to check out my Patreon! I  write erotica full-time, which means I need your patronage to keep creating, and my Patrons also get benefits like early access to my stories, extra stories, and the ability to vote on what I write next! So, if that sounds good to you, head over and join the couple hundred patrons I already have :)

---

Nothing makes Kione Monax feel good the way being saddled up in the cockpit of a huge mech suit does.

Cause it pays really, really well. Duh.

Provided you’re the best, of course. Kione doubts any of those fifth-rate Imperial grunt pilots they never seem to run out of get paid more than a pittance—not that they’ll ever live long enough to spend it, if she’s the one they’re up against. But Kione? She’s the best. Nowadays, at least. And that means she can name her damn price and the rebels will pay it, no matter how sour the looks on their faces when she comes to collect.

It’s not all about the money, obviously. Kione would be the first to admit that there is a very clear and distinct pleasure in being the very best. To ruling the battlefield like a queen. To tapping into the merciless rhythm of combat, and feeling the beat change when she decides it’s the moment - the moment to kick her Theaboros’s reactor into the red and soar, allowing herself just a single moment to drink in the stupefied, upturned, defeated faces of her prey before she puts them out of their misery.

Fuck, it’s good. It really gets her hot.

But it’s not better than money, because money was what had bought her the Theaboros and its wings, and its state-of-the-art systems, and its fresh coats of paint—for vanity, although sometimes she lies and calls it ‘branding’���and all the fancy drinks she buys for the very best hookers before she buys them too. That’s what life is all about. Not principles. Lots of people get big, stupid ideas in their heads once they’re sitting behind the controls of a sixty-foot mechanical god. If your ideas are big enough and stupid enough they start calling you a hero, and Kione is very, very determined not to end up as one of those. They always die bad.

That’s how scumbag mercenaries like Kione wind up as the best.

Hey, merc, comes a terse voice over a shitty, crackling radio, just as Kione finishes planting the charges, you better be in position.

Kione sighs quietly to herself before she answers: “I am. Plan B is in place.”

Good, says the girl on the radio. Get ready. And remember: no work, no pay.

Kione rolls her eyes. Why do people always feel the need to remind her? Contrary to popular slander, mercenaries aren’t cowards or turncoats. Any mech-for-hire who pulls that kind of shit just saw their very last payday. And besides, Kione refuses to help out the imperials. Just out of self-interest, of course—there’s no place for free spirits like her in the kind of world they’d like to build. She’s bloodied their noses more times than she can count, and you’d think that would win her some actual gratitude from the rebels she fights alongside.

Hell no. Kione had fought with unit after unit, recruit after recruit, and each one proves to be just as naively idealistic as the last. They all think they’re put here to save the world, and they hate that Kione knows she’s only here to make some hard cash. The girl barking orders at Kione over the radio is one of those. An idealist. A firebrand. She’d flashed Kione a nice, mean look before they’d shipped out. Stars in her eyes, hell on her lips.

Kione knew then and there she’d have to fuck her, once they made it back. It wouldn’t be hard. Girls like that always went for her once they saw first-hand how good she was. She went for them, too. She just loved to make them choke on her.

She’s here. Cut the chatter. Everybody focus.

At once, Kione lets go of her sleazy fantasies and gets herself back in the zone. Not for the first time, she wonders about the targets. How many? How well-equipped are they? Guess she’ll find out soon enough. Not that she can see shit right now, hanging from the underside of this colossal bridge.

It’s a good place for an ambush and a great place to get yourself killed if a thousand tons of reinforced concrete come down on your head before you know what’s happening. That’s why Kione’s there. That’s the truth of mercenary work: you get the real shit jobs. The ones they don’t expect you to walk away from.

Suits Kione just fine. She’ll groan and grumble until they pay her double, then prove she’s worth every penny.

For now, though, there’s only waiting. That gets to Kione the same way it does to every soldier. Eventually, her mech’s sensors pick up vibrations. Footsteps on the bridge above. Another machine. A pretty big one, too—but only the one, which prompts some serious fucking questions. Who the hell are they ambushing here? A high-value target, clearly. Maybe an imperial higher-up. But those don’t fly solo. A pilot, then? Some ace? It’d have to be. Kione can’t think of any other reason they’d pay her fees for a gig like this.

It has to be someone good. Someone only she can beat.

Kione finds herself grinning.

More waiting. The target is moving slow. A nice, steady march. It gets closer, and closer, and closer, until Kione can hear each step; can feel them reverberating through her body. Until the enemy is directly above her. The enemy mech’s footfalls are heavy and almost familiar. Despite everything, Kione is all but bursting with anticipation. She loves getting to put a rival ace in the dirt. Nothing better. But she knows she needs to be patient. She’s not the first wave. She’s the coup de grâce.

The radio crackles again. Now! Open fire!

An instant later, the air trembles with the report of a dozen guns. The rebels scattered themselves across the bridge, each pilot picking their ambush spot to secure kill zones and neutralize cover. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The rebels don’t have a lot of advantages over the imperials, but this is one of them: they’re good at this kind of guerrilla shit. As the barrage wears on, Kione’s grin starts to slip. She’s beginning to think they won’t need her after all.

Then, one by one, the guns go silent.

Kione can pick out each machine as it goes dark, just from the sound. No two rebel mechs are alike; consistent supply and production lines are a fleeting fantasy so each machine is somebody’s pet project, customized according to parts and needs. That makes it all too easy for Kione to count.

One down. Two down. Three down.

What the fuck?

It’s hard to believe, but Kione can hear it happening. Up above, the enemy mech pounds the bridge with its footfalls. That thing must be moving like a hound out of hell, dodging beams and missiles, throwing itself at one rebel after another. Its engine is deafening; an insane scream of tortured metal and unholy combustion that fuels the carnage. Screaming is just about all Kione can hear over the radio, too. The rebels’ comms discipline has broken down. They can’t make sense of how fast it's gone wrong.

Merc! Where the fuck are you?

That’s her cue. It’s the moment—and with a worthy foe, too. Kione can’t stop herself laughing nastily into the radio as she retracts the anchors keeping her attached to the bridge and slips into freefall.

And again, when she punches ‘startup’ on Theaboros’s flight system.

Mechs can’t fly, yeah? Everyone knows that. It just doesn’t make a lot of sense. You want to fly, you get in a plane. You’d need a stupid amount of thrust to get something as big as a mech suit in the air. A big engine won’t help. The tyranny of the rocket equation will murder you. Weight means fuel, fuel means more weight. The aerodynamics would probably be shit too. And that���s not even getting into the economics problem. Nobody can spare that much reactor fuel for just one machine. The best way to square the circle would be to build the entire thing out of some kind of crazy cutting-edge superalloy, but those are hell to get and worse to maintain. No; a flying mech would be a ridiculous vanity project. The imperials would never sanction it, and the rebels could never afford it.

Good thing Kione Monax has never worked for free a day in her life.

It helps that she built Theaboros smart—or at least, paid other people to. It’s a slender beast; tall, upright, almost human-like in its posture. It weighs a fraction of most of its rivals, and so when it spreads the six sleek, silver pinions mounted on its back, Kione can actually feel them catch the air. Every little helps when you’re fighting gravity.

But what really, really helps is the state-of-the-art antimatter reactor surging to life and pumping out a steady stream of anti-Fermion particles that singe the air around her mech a deep, unearthly red as they annihilate and, for just a fraction of a second each, keep the fundamental forces of the universe at bay.

With that on her side? Fuck yeah, Theaboros can fly. And Kione falls a little more in love with it every time.

It flies now, with her gripping the joysticks, gliding the unnaturally nimble machine between cables and tresses as she boosts clear of the bridge’s superstructure and tilts up, pulling a tight loop that brings her down onto the deck, ready to give her target the surprise of a lifetime.

Except, no.

Kione is the one left with her jaw on the floor when she sees who she’s up against. All at once, she realizes she was wrong before. It’s not someone only she can beat, because it’s the one person she never ever managed to beat, in all the long evenings they spent sparring together.

It’s Sartha.

It’s Ancyor, anyway. Or most of it. Actually, it’s more like Ancyor died and came back wrong. The base frame is still there; Kione can tell as much from that dragging, lupine gait as it lurches across the bridge. The exoskeletal armor is the same too. If anything, it looks even more beat to hell than usual. But beneath that, it’s all wrong. The reactor. The weapon systems. The raised, pneumatic hackles that augment those deadly claws. They’ve all been replaced. Upgraded. Imperial tech. It gives Kione the creeps. It’s like someone’s wearing her dead friend’s skin.

Whatever they’ve done to it, it’s clear Ancyor has lost none of its effectiveness. In its terrible, wake, Kione counts four of the mechs she shipped out here with lying in shattered, ugly heaps. They went down bad. Catastrophic kills. If anything, it looks like Ancyor’s pilot took special pleasure in plucking out and crushing each cockpit. That really gives Kione the creeps. Even Imperial pilots usually don’t sink that low.

At least she knows it’s not Sartha in there.

Unsurprisingly, the remaining three rebels have gone to pieces. They’re backing away, giving up the only tactical advantages they have—prepped positions and unit cohesion—and the radio channel is full of little more than panicked screeching. The squad leader, the girl who was barking at Kione earlier, is trying to instill some kind of discipline. It’s not working. She’s too young. They all are.

Take her down, damn it! she yells, when she sees Theaboros land. This is what we’re paying you for.

“You got it,” Kione mutters.

In all honesty, she’s weighing up the pros and cons of simply hitting the bricks and running. But she reminds herself: this isn’t Sartha. Just a pale imitation.

And besides, there’s money on the line. Duh.

In any case, the choice gets taken away from her when Ancyor turns its awful snout in her direction and starts barreling toward her.

“Shit!”

At once, Kione kicks her mech’s flight system into high gear. She manages to get enough thrust to pull up and clear—but only just. Ancyor is even faster than the last time they fought. Kione wheels around in the air to find her target, extending and clasping her long spear in Theoboros’s right hand. Once the weapon is deployed, its tip starts glowing red-hot as her systems reroute surplus reactor heat. Kione would prefer to keep Sartha’s hellhound at a comfortable distance, but CQC is the only good way to finish a fight sure and quick.

As soon as Kione sets her sights, she realizes that Ancyor has already turned to look up at her. Silently, four openings appear in its torso. An instant later, four wire-guided harpoons are coming right at her.

That’s new. Fuck.

Two of them, she manages to dodge. One, she bats aside with the flat of her spear blade. But the fourth, kept on target by tiny thrusters, buries itself in one of Theaboros’s long, slender legs. That’s not good. The damage itself is fairly negligible. What’s not negligible is Ancyor’s massive weight as it pulls the wire taut and starts reeling her in.

And, at the same moment, launches itself into the air with enough force to crack the concrete under its feet.

Kione’s display is filled with warnings she’s pretty sure she’s never seen before. She dismisses them with a furious gesture, but all she sees on the viewscreen afterward is the ruin of Ancyor’s face coming at her at an insane speed. No time to cut herself free, and no aerial maneuver Kione can think of is going to make a damn bit of difference with another mech weighing her down like an anchor.

So, stupidly, she does the only thing she can think of: she points her jets in the opposite direction and blasts herself straight down toward Ancyor.

Fifty feet in the air above the bridge deck, two meteors collide.

Ancyor has sheer mass on its side, but Theaboros has gravity and thrust. Kione is no rookie; getting her head knocked around in the cockpit isn’t going to ruffle her. She’s focused on what counts: getting this damn dog off of her.

It’s not easy. Ancyor is scrambling all over her, its wickedly sharp chain-claws working to find purchase. It’s clear whoever’s behind the controls knows Sartha’s style. They want to keep the two mechs bound together, grappling, where Ancyor’s sheer savagery makes it invincible.

All Kione can do is wield her long, elegant spear like a brawler’s stick, keeping it between them, leveraging them to try and force Ancyor away. Unfortunately, Theaboros isn’t great at this kind of contest of strength. It’s just not built for it. Desperately, Kione uses the flight system’s jets to throw the two of them into a series of loops, heads over feet, hoping the g-forces will destabilize the beast.

Of course, it’s just as likely that what happens is that Theaboros goes down face-first into the bridge.

Splat.

But maybe it’s working. Ancyor is starting to peel off. The harpoon comes loose and one of its arms slips, windmilling through the air. Kione presses the advantage, wrenching her spear around to make Ancyor’s grip untenable. After one last lunge that goes clean past her shoulder, Sartha’s mech is sent tumbling back down to earth where it belongs.

Wiping sweat from her brow, Kione grins. Get down, dog. The sky is all hers.

Then she notices the warning lights. She stops grinning as she realizes that last lunge didn’t go clean past her shoulder at all. It hit exactly where it was meant to. It ripped off one of her goddamn wings.

Ah. Well, that’s really not good.

Theaboros isn’t dead in the air. At least, not quite. But the thing about wings is: however many you’ve got, you probably don’t wanna be on less than that. Lest she choke her reactor to death, Kione is forced to ease off and touch down on the bridge. Once her baby has cooled off, she should still be able to pull off a trick or two.

Merc? You still breathing?

Kione’s glad radio girl is still here. Judging from the guns Kione hears, her surviving squadmates are too. Maybe they can still do this.

“I have a name, you know,” she grunts.

Yeah? Get us back to base in one piece, maybe I’ll think about learning it.

Kione cackles at that. She likes a girl who can keep her head.

“You can buy me a drink instead,” she tells her. “You already know my name. If you’re not careful, I’ll make you say ‘please’ when you use-“

She cuts herself off when she sees what’s about to happen.

Kione never takes her eye off the ball, but it’s taken her a moment to stop seeing white. Now that she has her sights on Ancyor again, she’s realizing it’s not nearly as debilitated by its fall as she’d hoped. It always was freakishly tough. And it’s doing the worst thing it possibly could. Worse even than coming at Kione again while her flight system’s cooling down.

It’s going after the easy prey.

In a single bounding leap, Ancyor hurls itself at the rebel currently spray-and-praying it with ineffective beam fire. The poor bastard freezes up, and Ancyor lands squarely on their shoulders.

It doesn’t need weapons. Its weight does the work. Even Kione flinches from the crunching sound.

No!

It’s radio girl. So much for keeping her head. Maybe she knew them well. Maybe it’s just one loss too many. Either way, because she’s one of those rebel idealists, she’s doing the brave thing. The stupid thing.

Breaking cover. Trying to save her comrade.

Idiot. That’s exactly what a predator like Ancyor wants

There’s some distance between the two of them, but nothing Ancyor can’t cross in the blink of an eye. It’s happening half the bridge’s length away. Theaboros has a rifle, but the stopping power is nowhere near enough. Kione can already see exactly what’s going to happen. Radio girl is going down. No chance her last squadmate sticks around after that happens, which leaves Kione trapped in a one-on-one. Not good odds.

So, the right move is obvious: ditch. Now. The mission’s a bust. Losing Kione’s pay is better than losing her life. As long as she takes off right this second, she should be able to make it out clean.

All she’s gotta do is outrun the other rebel, right?

Kione sighs. It’s an easy choice. But here’s the rub: she really was looking forward to that drink with radio girl.

So much for letting the reactor cool.

As Theaboros throws itself forward at her command, Kione punches the reactor straight back into the red. The thrust alone has her in the air; Kione works the flight system with a master’s touch, pitching her machine slightly off-axis to compensate for the wing she lost. It’s a rough ride. Her baby’s running too hot. The wingtips are starting to disintegrate. Antimatter annihilation’s a bitch. Kione doesn’t want to think about how much the repair bill’s gonna come to this time.

Instead, she just grins.

You thought your ride was fast, Sartha? Think again.

Ancyor lunges. Radio girl is right under its outstretched claw. Theaboros is hurtling toward them at a truly unwise speed. In the cockpit, Kione is rattling around like crazy—but she doesn’t let up. She only has a fraction of a second. No time to shoot, no time to strike, no time to parry. Only time to do something dumb.

Theaboros rams into radio girl shoulder first, shoving her out of the way. She raises her left arm in a feeble bid to fend off their attacker. The impact with the rebel mech wreaks havoc on Theaboros’s frame.

And then Ancyor’s claws rip her arm off.

Shit.

No time to take stock of the damage. No room to get her balance. No heat overhead to spend on a boost. Ancyor just keeps coming. It switches targets to Theaboros without missing a beat. Kione stumbles back just barely out of reach, wheeling her spear in a furious series of parries and ripostes.

Not furious enough. Nothing’s as furious as Ancyor. It matches Kione step for step, blow for blow. Only a matter of time until one of them lands home. Kione grimaces. At least radio girl is free and clear—not that that’s worth much. Can’t get paid if you’re dead, and she’s sure starting to feel dead. Theaboros has taken up too much damage to put up an even fight.

Kione snorts, despite everything. What, is she making excuses for herself?

That’ll look great on her tombstone. Kione Monax: it wasn’t fair.

It stings that it’s not even true. Now that she’s at the right distance to get a good look at Ancyor, it’s plain enough that it took a fierce beating in the rebel ambush. Radio girl’s crew wasn’t so bad after all. They took some mean chunks out of its armor. All over Ancyor, clouds of leaking coolant hiss and exposed electricals crackle. At least one or two major servos are missing. It must be handling like a pig right about now, but it’s moving like nothing’s happened. Whoever’s behind the controls is just that good.

Which begs the question, doesn’t it?

Who the fuck is piloting that thing?

Sartha Thrace is dead. Kione made her peace with that a long time ago, and she has no time for stupid rumors. But now she can’t help but wonder. Who else could handle Ancyor like this? From their sparring sessions, Kione recognizes all the little trademark moves. Hell, the only reason she’s lasted this long is because she has a sense of Sartha’s cadence. It’s like she’s fighting her friend’s ghost.

No, not her ghost. Something worse. Sartha was never quite like this. Never quite so heedless of herself. Never so proud she wouldn’t simply retreat from this kind of ambush. This animal ferocity—Kione has seen it before, but it was always a rare thing. It came over Sartha only when something drove her to her very limit. This pilot? It’s like she’s got all of that side of Sartha, and nothing but. Her rage and violence, distilled. Purified.

A shiver runs down Kione’s spine. It’s so wrong.

Merc?

That’s her radio girl. Kione rolls her eyes. She’d been hoping the rebel pilot would just run. If both of them die trying to save each other, she’s gonna throw up. That’s just too much.

“You clear of the bridge?”

Yeah.

Thank the gods.

Her distraction almost spells her end. Theaboros is driven yet another step backward and almost trips off the side of the bridge. Kione glances behind. She’s out of space. Shit. Shit! There has to be something left. Kione knows it. She feels it. This can’t be the end. Not of her. Not yet. She’s too good. There has to be something.

A plan B.

Oh, right.

Kione checks her reactor. Flight still isn’t on the menu. It’s gonna be ugly.

“Radio girl?” Kione calls out, as Ancyor brings its claws up for an overhead blow. She raises her spear to meet it. Sparks fly as the weapons meet.

Who- yeah?

“Plan B. Blow it.”

To her infinite credit, radio girl doesn’t hesitate, which means Kione only knows it’s happening when the ten thousand-ton reinforced concrete bridge under her feet suddenly isn’t.

In desperation, Kione throws herself over the edge. A drop is one thing. But getting crushed? That’s what’ll kill you. Unfortunately for her, the bridge is already falling. She can’t kick off cleanly. Best she can do is scramble at asphalt and rebar that’s quickly turning into little more than dust while she overboosts her flight system as far as it’ll go.

It’s good enough—almost. For just a moment, Kione thinks she’s threaded the needle. She’s going to glide clear.

Then Ancyor comes flying at her one last time.

How it managed a leap like that, Kione will never know. The way it screams as it comes at her almost stops her heart. It gets close. Way too fucking close. But Kione manages to wheel her machine around, kicking its legs up and out of Ancyor’s reach.

Not the wings, though. It gets another one of those.

That’s bad. Extremely bad. Kione suddenly realizes she ought to have been more appreciative of only being down the one wing.

Mercifully, Ancyor falls away and disappears into the bridge’s wreckage at the base of the valley. That’s a mercy. But Theaboros isn’t much better off. Spitting smoke and almost completely out of control, the best Kione can do with it is a crash landing.

But hey, any landing you can walk away from. Right? And Theaboros can still walk. It just can’t do anything else.

Kione lets herself throw up in the cockpit. That’s a first.

A minute or two later, while she’s slowly picking herself up, radio girl comes skating down the wall of the valley. Her mech is a bit shit—common enough, for rebels—but it looks a damn sight better than Theaboros right now.

Holy shit, radio girl calls out. You’re alive! You… you saved me.

She’s got that naive awe in her voice, like she’s talking to some hero. Kione frowns. Can’t have that.

“Don’t get used to it,” Kione retorts gruffly. “You die, who’s gonna make sure I get paid? Duh.”

She senses radio girl bristle a little, but it’s not quite enough to penetrate that thick coat of rebel sincerity. Thank you, Kione, she replies earnestly.

Even though it almost makes her throw up again, Kione laughs thickly.

“Told you. You already know my name.”

Now she senses the other pilot blushing.

Well, shit, radio girl says after a moment, as her mech’s head turns toward the ruins of the bridge. We really fucked this up. I don’t know how I’m gonna explain this to command.

Kione happens to disagree with the ‘really fucked this up’ part of that assessment. She happens to think she pulled off a goddamn miracle, actually. But then, she still doesn’t know what they were really after. Who they were really after.

Wait, radio girl says slowly. Is that… oh gods, I think that’s her.

Before Kione can ask, she’s dashing for something she’s spotted in the wreckage. Kione makes Theaboros limp after her. When she spots it too, her eyes go wide.

It’s Ancyor.

It’s almost in one piece. Almost. Tough son of a bitch. Kione half-expects it to come roaring at them again, but once radio girl shifts the bridge pylon that landed on it, she sees that Ancyor has finally given up the ghost. It’s not beyond repairs but the torso is cracked open like an egg, leaking oil and worse in a steady stream. Looks like the protection systems deployed OK, at least.

Which means the pilot might actually be alive.

Sure enough, as radio girl peels away one half of Ancyor’s ruined cockpit, Kione sees her—and for the first time, she’s completely and utterly lost for words.

Lying there, battered and bleeding and unconscious but very definitely alive, dressed just like usual except for what looks freakishly like a fucking muzzle strapped to her head—is Sartha.

Sartha Thrace. The hero. Kione’s friend.

“She…” Kione splutters eventually, overcome. “But… how did… all this, just for…”

Yeah, radio girl answers. All this was for her.

There’s something in the rebel’s voice. Something at once sorrowful and unbearably hopeful. Kione has never heard anything quite like it. But, uncomfortably, she realizes it was in her voice too.

She’s the objective. We’re bringing Sartha Thrace home.

---

I would like to express my gratitude for the generosity of all those who  support me on Patreon, and to give a special thanks to the following  patrons in particular for their exceptional support:

Artemis, Chloe, Grillfan65, The Secret Subject, Morriel, Dex, orangesya, dmtph, MegatronTarantulas, Madeline, BTYOR, Sarah, Mattilda, Emily Queen of sloths, Neana, Shadows exile, Abigail, Hypnogirl_Stephanie_, Jade, mintyasleep, Michael, Tasteful Ardour, Chris, Dennis, Full Blown Marxism, Morder, S, Brendon, Drone 8315, Jim, Erin, HannahSolaria, hellenberg, Kay, Miss_Praxis, Violet, Noct, Charlotte, Faun, BrinnShea, B, Foridin, Jennifer, EepyTimeTea, Phoenix, Jim, Sebastian, Joseph, Yaoups, Thomas, Liz, naivetynkohan, Basic dev, SuperJellyFrogEx, Katie, Lily, spyrocyndersam13, zzzz, Mal, Bouncyrou, Nimapode, Kunoichiru, Ash, Artemis, Geckonator, TheRealG, Anonymous, J, nathan, GladiusLumin, Ada, Marina, Space Prius, Alex, Michael, Thomas, Dasterin, Djura, Pluto, Daedalus, Joe, Mattilda, Ana, proletkvlt, DOLLICIOUS, Yodasgirl, Allie~, Cusco-, Griffin, Bouncyrou, Hazelpup, Jakitron, Leah, Alan, ravenfan, Ash, ferretfyre, Christopher

[mackjlee9]

okay so i got another idea with leon 🥴 totally up to you if you're interedted in writing it

i was thinking of something like reader being Leon's bisexual awakening since he was recruted by the government but he has never liked another man before so he literally was kinda clueless until Claire was like "sir the demons you're fighting is bisexuality" and everything inside Leon clicked cuz for YEARS man has been wondering "mhm why do i get this horrendous feeling when some atractive dude is talking to him and why I kinda wanna kiss him?" Until after the infinite darkness shit happens and reader finally asks Leon out and they finally smooch lmao. (I kinda see claire being the one setting them together bc seeing how oblivious both are is annoying.)

This ended up... A little different 😅

Leon Kennedy x Male!Reader [Fluff]

All the timelines in this one shot; after re2, before re4 (+mention of the mission), re:degeneration & re:infinite darkness.

Masterlist.

Resident Evil

Well, that's strange.

Leon just ignored the weird sensation he felt when his eyes landed on (M/n). This was the first time he had seen the man in person after being recruited to work for the U.S Government, however, he had heard a lot about him and he already looked up to him and admired him, of course, he never said that, especially after seeing how some reacted to being called "hero" and such, so he kept his admiration for himself.

(M/n) was known around for working close to the President, for getting his job done quickly and efficiently, and for deciding to stay alone everywhere he went.

With the few people Leon had talked to, that had known (M/n) for longer, they had told him how the (h/c) haired male had remained working without a partner for years, after his entire unit was wiped out when he had barely gotten started as an agent.

For years, Leon has spent every day of his life feeling like he was invisible to (M/n) since he was mostly focused on his task at hand or gone on a mission, but there was the occasional glance at him that would make him flinch and smile, or the rare moments where (M/n) would smile at him and Leon just couldn't hold back the bright smile growing on his face, looking down as his face heat up.

He's so handsome... I wanna kiss-

"Kennedy!" He was interrupted from his thoughts when he heard his name being called, one of his the President's agents was beckoning him to follow which he did, the stoic expression returning to his face, "Come on."

Just then Leon realized he was being taken to the President's office and he wondered what the reason could be. Did he do something wrong? Was he gonna get fired? Or... Terminated?

He was having a full panic attack in his brain but remained with an expressionless face as always, taking quiet steps into the office.

"I brought him over, sir," the President, Adam Graham, who was standing looking out the window, turned around to look at Leon. He signaled the couch for him to sit as he walked over too, sitting across from the blond.

"I have a mission for you, Leon."

Turns out, his daughter Ashley had been kidnapped when she was coming home from her college in Massachusetts and he was the agent assigned to rescue her. Leon itched to ask why him specifically when (M/n) was basically the best agent, and Adam smiled as he held back a chuckle, enjoying the confusion on Leon's face.

"Agent (L/n) was the one that recommended me to give you this mission, he has other stuff to do and apologized for not being able to do it himself, but he said he trusts your abilities," he stood up and extended his hand at Leon, "and so do I."

Leon felt his body getting warmer and he stood up, holding the President's hand with a firm grip, determination shining in his blue eyes.

"I will bring her back safe, sir."

//////

It was only a couple of days later when Leon arrives back home, and observes how Ashley runs straight to her father's arms, crying after everything they had gone through in Spain.

Leon sighs at the sight and rolls his right shoulder, feeling the tense muscles twitching slightly after all the stress he was put through... And now he had to do the paperwork, so annoying... I just want a beer, dinner, and fucking sleep for a month.

While he was debating whether he should silently leave or wait, a hand was placed on his shoulder, its warmth seeping through his shirt.

"Well done, Leon," it was (M/n). Leon turned to look at him, lips parting slightly and cheeks heating up at the sight of (M/n)'s gentle smile.

"I, uh... Thank you, sir," he stuttered for a moment before regaining his composure, talking with a serious tone, and he saw how (M/n)'s nose crinkled.

"There's no need to call me sir, just (M/n) is fine," Leon lets out a deep sigh when he hears the sound of (M/n)'s laugh. And again, he couldn't help but think how attractive the man was.

Leon was so confused and felt strange at these thoughts he kept having- that he always sort of had but were much more often and intense than in previous years, and he wondered why it happened, he just assumed it was the fact that he looked up to (M/n) and thought he was an impressive and very skilled agent, that he did, he really did, but there was something else there.

In the following months (M/n) and he had gotten quite close, and had been assigned partner on many missions.

And now, standing outside the airport and out of hearing range, observing with a confused frown how the woman he called friend was laughing at him.

"Can you not laugh at me, Claire? I'm being serious," the red-haired woman wiped the tears gathering in her eyes and stared into Leon's eyes, releasing muffled chuckles before she could articulate her sentence, "Claire."

Leon was about to leave as he felt like one of the few persons he could trust was making fun of him, but she held his arm as he apologized.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just..." Her smile widened, a painful glint shining in her eyes, "That thing you're feeling is called... Attraction, Leon, you feel attracted to (M/n), even if you're both guys," Leon's frown deepened, crossing his arms over his chest, more confused than before.

"But I'm not gay," Claire looked at him as if he was dumb, which well... He kind of was, but anyway-!

"I'm not saying you're gay, Leon," she placed her hand on his shoulder, "Do you feel attraction toward women?" The blond nodded, fully convinced of this fact and Claire chuckled again, "Do you feel attraction toward men?"

Now it took Leon a while longer to answer, blinking repeatedly every few seconds, searching in his memories if he had ever felt attracted toward a man, other than (M/n), and well... Yeah, he kind of did.

"I think so..." He mumbled, and Claire made eye contact with him.

"That's called bisexuality, Leon, and there's nothing wrong with that," while Claire turned around and started walking away, she glanced over her shoulder and winked at Leon, "Go ask him out, I'm sure he won't reject you anyway."

//////

The only wrong thing was realizing and coming to terms with that for Leon. Even more so because he has found himself staring for longer periods of time at (M/n)'s eyes, lips, neck, chest... His whole body was making him react like a horny teenager and well, he couldn't say he hated it, but he didn't want it to happen as often as it did, especially at work.

Leon just had to live with the knowledge of being bisexual... Which was proving to be harder than he had initially assumed. Feeling internally conflicted whenever he saw (M/n) working out and covered in sweat, or when they both walked into the bathroom to take a shower. Poor Leon, he was down bad and... Kind of horny too.

But now, after being done with a mission in Pittsburgh involving bioterrorism, they were both getting in the helicopter that had come to pick them up after being called on an important reunion with the President, wanting them to arrive as soon as possible.

The ride was pretty much silent, but there was a moment when his mind had started wandering around, the gruesome images they had seen back there flashing in his mind, making him sick to his stomach, and he knew Leon was thinking and feeling the same way with how quiet he was.

Looking at him, (M/n) saw Leon's hand laying still on his lap and he reached over to hold it, effectively catching him off-guard. Leon looked down at their hands before looking up at (M/n), who showed him a reassuring smile while squeezing his hand, telling him a silent 'I'm here'. Leon felt glad at the gesture and wordless reassurance, smiling back at (M/n) and squeezing his hand too.

He could feel how his heartbeat sped up, his stomach getting all tingly, and his face heating up with a blush. (M/n) saw Leon's whole body relax as he took a deep breath, turning to stare out the window again.

The pilot wanted to say something but soon realized he was gonna ruin some sort of moment so he remained quiet, only talking when he was approaching the heliport and required confirmation for landing.

//////

(M/n) almost didn't want to stay locked there until they came back, but the President had asked him to and he couldn't refuse an order from the man, so he did as told.

"Careful out there, Lee," Leon nodded and started running after Jason and Shen May, something wasn't right, but he didn't have the time to think about it, he had to enter the bunker and protect the President- everyone present if needed.

During the whole duration of this mission, (M/n) only craved one thing, being with Leon, and now, as they flew in the President's private jet to Penamstan he couldn't stop thinking about seeing and being with him. Leon hasn't communicated with him yet and even though he tried not to, he was worried, definitely worried about him despite knowing his abilities.

(M/n) followed the President and stood in the crowd, deciding on playing the part of a security guard. He observed Patrick stop Adam before he reached the podium and he told him something, before he resumed his way and stood there, speaking into the microphones. He was not too sure of what Adam had said, and couldn't pay much attention when, right as the President finished his speech, his phone rang in his pocket, taking it out and reading the message that showed on the screen.

"You wanna grab some dinner and a few beers back home?" (M/n) didn't find it in himself to feel mad at Leon when he was being this adorable without realizing it.

"Sure, but I expect an explanation, Kennedy," Leon saw the message pop up and he smiled at it, chuckling to himself and blushing as he walked away and into the elevator, completely oblivious to Claire's sweet smile.

Contacting Patrick briefly, Leon made his way toward them, nodding to the curly-haired male as a greeting, smiling and waving at (M/n) when he saw him walking toward them.

Standing there while they waited, Leon proceeded to explain to them what had happened, besides the brief explanation he had given to Patrick. Hearing everything made (M/n) really mad at himself for not excusing himself before running after Leon to help, he knew he wasn't a damsel in distress but... The thought that something could've happened to Leon and he wouldn't have known...

It was painful. And he realized that... He couldn't keep holding back his feelings for him anymore.

The three of them watched how the President left, and now they had to sort stuff out there, go to the U.S embassy and such, but now, with Patrick saying a quick bye, (M/n) and Leon have been left alone, staring at the sunset.

It was beautiful truly, but (M/n) would rather miss it just to stare at something beyond beautiful, something angelic and close to perfection.

His eyes were only looking at Leon, observing how pretty his blue eyes looked reflecting the warm colors of the sun, and he finally found it in himself to talk.

"A hero, eh?" Leon turned to look at him and (M/n) swears he saw him blushing before he glanced away with a chuckle.

"Is everyone gonna call me a hero now then?" (M/n) only smiled in response, and soon the silence continued, but neither of them minded, silences were always comfortable when they were together.

But there was still this nag in the back of (M/n)'s mind, thinking how everything could've gone to shit, and he needed Leon.

"Leon..." He heard (M/n) whispering his name and he turned to look at him, frowning when he realized the conflict obvious on his face, "Just... Hit me if you don't like it, okay?"

Before Leon had time to process his question, he saw (M/n) getting closer and closer, finally pressing their lips together. Leon was left wide-eyed, but a moan left his mouth at the feeling of (M/n)'s lips on his, lifting his arms and wrapping them around the (h/c) haired's neck, kissing him harder and a little bit rougher.

"I could never hit you," was the first thing Leon said when he pulled back, laughing a bit, "And you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he mumbled against (M/n)'s lips before kissing him again, their lips moving together in a slow pace, wide smiles plastered on their faces.

(M/n)'s hands placed themselves on Leon's hips, and pulled back again, pressing their forehead together.

"Exactly... How long, hm?" Leon chuckled feeling rather shy at the question, but rather more at the answer.

"About a year ago, when... I realized you were my bisexual awakening," (M/n) bit his lip and held in his chuckles.

"Well," he pulled Leon closer to his body, opening his eyes and leaning closer to Leon's ear, "I'll hope I can awaken more things in you, darling."

[barefoothighlander]

Hi! I hope you're well.

I have a request that may not be achievable and thats okay! Really, its just a thought.

What if the reader is a new recruit to the team and has the nickname 'Reaper' due to her skull Balaclava and skill (https://www.tumblr.com/men-wearing-masks/652072573328392192/skull-mask-week-day-47?source=share) from her other teams.

They're mainly a sniper but are amazing at everything. They're smaller than the rest of the team (I'm picturing an afab) but they're silent and bring death with them.

For example; Ghost is noticeable by his naturally intimidating presence but Reaper cannot be noticed unless you're actually looking for them, and when they pass, it feels as if a cold shiver has gone down your spine.

I picture this being a Ghost x reader because they're just as good as ghost, if not better, and everyone teases him about that. Making jokes about how reader is on top because a Reaper is higher up the chain than a ghost. Then I feel like on a mission reader gets sick of it, but in an attempt to be 'part of the team' they make a joke that's sexual in nature about her being on top which just sets ghost off.

If you don't do anything with this, totally understand, hope this wasn't just a silly rant though 'xD

Much love,

🔳

ok, sorry this took me so long to respond to I was trying to flesh it out but I hope it fits what you imagined

warnings: typical violence, death

“Hostiles are taken care of, you’re clear for entry” You call it in through your comms, you’re sat high on a hill, hidden from view by the dark as the team infiltrates.

“Copy Reaper, moving in”

You walk as Ghost and Soap make their way into the building, changing your sight to check in on windows.

“I’ve got eyes on two, south east window”

No response

“Alpha team I’ve got eyes on two, how copy?”

The comms are silent, you don’t think you just move, sprinting down the hill before you’re in front of the target building, you can hear the echoes of gunshots.

“Soap I’m at the entrance, what’s going on in there”

You hear someone inside yell, deciding to rush in to cover, you make your way through the rooms, clearing them before heading up the stairs to follow the noise. You see muzzle flashes at the end of the hallway, you slowly make your way down before turning into a room, Soaps backed against a wall struggling with one of the men, you raise your gun to fire but your arms are quickly pushed away,

“Reaper, on your left”

You struggle against the man in front of you, using your foot you kick at his knee knocking him down, your knife raising to plant in his neck before you pull it out, throwing it across the room, it lands in the shoulder of the man strangling Soap, he screams in pain and Soap is able to push him off to kill him.

“Thanks”

You nod your head, “Where’s Ghost?”

“We split down a hallway, comms went dead a few seconds after”

“Why do these always turn into rescue missions”

“Maybe he likes being saves by you”

You roll your eyes at him, picking up your gun and advancing around the building, there’s no sign of Ghost in the rooms.

“Stay inside, I’ll search the perimeter” You say

“Stick to the shadows” Soap winks

You make your way outside, creeping around the dark spots of the yard as you slice through the few remaining hostiles, you come across Ghost in the garage, he’s focused on some computer as you approach.

“Thought you went missing”

Your presence surprises him,

“Clear the building?”

“No thanks to you”

“I did my part” He gestures towards the two dead men on the opposite side of the room, “Got what we came for, let’s go”

You meet back up with Soap at the front of the house, making your way to the rendezvous point,

"You better thank your God that Reaper was here to save your ass LT"

"I was fine"

"Not counting the hostiles swarming you" You jump in

Ghost glares at you as the three of you make your way onto the heli for evac. Arriving back at base Ghost is practically silent, sparing you few words during your ride while Soap talks your ear off, there's something off about Ghost but you can't place it, you decide to leave it be.

The base is bustling when you arrive, people running everywhere, your attention being drawn all around until Price shouts for you,

"Reaper, need you on the next car out"

"Just me Sir?"

"Just you, need the best" He nudges your shoulder, you turn to see Ghost standing behind you, fists clenched at his side,

"You've got competition LT" Soap jokes running past you, Ghost walks away without a word, leaving you standing alone.

Your mission was a success, in and out, just you with Price covering from the sky. You managed to clear the building without being detected, sticking to the shadows as you dropped hostiles one by one.

Your muscles ached arriving back, simply wanting to shower and sleep except Soap had forced you invited you to join the team for a drink, figuring it was an easy way to fit into the team you accepted.

The team was already a few drinks down when you arrived, Ghost catching your attention as he sat in the corner, leaned back in his chair.

"There ya are" Soap shouts from across the pub, hollering you over to their table, you sit and he hands you a beer, you feel the cool glass against your warm palm, eyes darting around the room.

"So is there something about the masks that the rest of us don't get?" Soap asked, pointing between you and Ghost, you tilt your head in question,

"No, no correlation"

"Just coincidence?"

"Just coincidence" You nod

"Well just seems that LT's been knocked down a peg since you showed up, no longer the scary lad in a mask compared to you"

You glare to your side, you can see how Ghost's face contorts under his mask, fumes practically coming from his face,

"Ghost is just as good as me"

"Ghost can't do what you can believe me," Soap laughs, taking another sip of his drink

"That'll do Johnny" His voice booms in your ears,

"You think you're better than me Ghost?" You say, suddenly filled with courage, he doesn't afford you a response, he simply stares back at your masked face.

"You do" Your words are cut off by Johnny

"Is it that mask?" He turns to Ghost,

"What?"

"S'that why you're always buggin' Reaper, you like them, some sort of mask kink?"

Your eyes go wide at his words, your chest suddenly feeling tight,

"You like a strong woman LT?" Soap laughs

Ghost's next movements are quick, he stands from the table practically knocking over everyone's drinks before his hands are at Soap's throat, Price jumps to pull him off but it's no use.

"Keep your fuckin mouth closed Sargeant"

Soap sobers up instantly, nodding under Ghost's grip before being released, there are murmurs around the pub as Ghost exits, the air is thick with tension.

The rest of the night was quiet, the men keeping their jokes to themselves out of fear of Ghost somehow hearing. The next day on base was even more awkward, strange tension between the team had unfolded as Ghost barely spoke a word to anyone all day.

A few hours later you make your way to the gym, completely surprised to see the Lieutenant there you eye him as you enter, setting up on the large mat in the centre of the room.

You watch as he moves to stand in front of you, his stare pinning you down,

"Ready?" He asks, you nod before lunging at him, your arms wrapping around his waist as you dig your feet into the mat trying to push him backward.

You grapple for a few minutes, both of you refusing to tap out, intent on proving you are better than the other, you manage to trip him and he falls with his back flat on the mat. Your legs move to straddle over his torso, your arms pinning him down as you cover his form, your heavy breaths filling the air.

"Guess I really am on top" You laugh

Without a second thought, he thrusts his hips, throwing you off him so he can flip your form, pinning you against the mat, you're caged under his form as he pins you flat, there's no chance of getting out. You writhe against his grip but he doesn't falter, simply staring you down,

"Give up?"

"Not a chance" You continue to struggle against his grip,

"You're just gonna tire yourself out"

"Using weight against your opponent is cheating"

"It's smart, you're small but quick, and I'm more than double your size"

"Get off" You huff

"Tap out"

"Admit I'm better than you"

He laughs at your words, releasing his grip before standing, he lets you get up, your hands rubbing at your wrists as you move across the room, you turn around and he's in front of you. He forces you back his strides pushing you back until you collide with the wall, you tilt your head from him, his mouth inches from your ear, you can feel his breath ghosting over your skin.

"You may be better in the field" He pulls back to face you, his dark eyes glued to yours as your body stands still, "But I'm always on top" You can see his smirk under his mask as he leaves, you're frozen in your spot, his words replaying in your head.

[torialefay]

☀️ Everyday Idol 🌙 (Chapter 3)

✨ head on over to my masterlist if you haven’t read chapters 1 & 2!

✨possible bangchan x reader (f), possible jungkook x reader (f)

✨wc: 4.3k

✨ friends to lovers? possible love triangle? future angst and smut??? definitely fluff.

✨ summary: JYP Entertainment launches a new show and y/n somehow gets recruited. Even though she doesn’t particularly care about the outcome of the show, she does particularly care about one of the artists she met: Chris from Stray Kids. Does Chris feel the same or will a potential relationship with one of his friends overcome what y/n feels for him?

✨ author’s notes: pls pls pls let me know if you’d prefer shorter, more frequent chapters like this one, OR longer chapters posted about once per week. i’m heavily debating lol

✨ warnings: cursing from time to time.

Previous Chapter Recap:

Dang, another instagram notification. Maybe Jungkook WAS really into you. You tapped to open the chat again.

gnabnahc: Hey! I know this is random, but if you have any time tomorrow, could you meet me in my studio? I’ll be around in the morning and at lunch after hair & makeup. If you have time of course, I understand if not. I just wanted to talk to you about something.

‘Good fucking God,’ your heart dropped. “Anna… I need you. NOW!” you screamed.

——————————————————————————————————

Y/n’s POV:

Anna quickly bolted into the bathroom, thinking you’d accidentally cut yourself shaving or something. She was determined not to let you bleed out. Med student to the rescue!

When she arrived, she was surprised to see you totally fine, but also totally naked, sitting on the lid of the toilet.

“Okay… WHY?” She looked down at you, eyebrows raised.

“Just come here,” you motioned for her with your arm. You extended your phone out for her to grab it.

“This is some Hollywood movie shit,” she laughed, handing the phone back to you.

“This isn’t funny!” you exclaimed. “What in the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Well do you want to see him?”

“Duh.”

“Then you’re going to find a way to see him. Just tell him you can’t in the morning and that you can late into lunch.”

“Yeah, only one problem. I’m supposed to be meeting Jungkook for lunch,” you rolled your eyes, now wondering if she had paid attention at all to your prior conversation.

“Okay, so tell Jungkook beforehand that you don’t have much time because of your schedule, and then go meet Chan. Who says you can’t have it all?” she grinned, raising one eyebrow.

‘Okay, good plan. Solid plan,’ you thought. ‘Unless…’

“Okay but I don’t know how close Chan & JK are. What if JK is telling him that we’re getting lunch together? Then I just look like a two-timing bitch.”

“Alright, and how do you know that JK hasn’t already told him and Chan is going behind his back?” ‘Ain’t no way he’d do that,’ you thought. “I’m just saying, in all of your time with Chan, he never once mentioned JK. In all of our time with Changbin and Felix, they never brought him up either. I honestly don’t think they’re that close. Both of their fandoms would have figured it out by now if they are.”

‘Alright, let’s look,’ you thought, pulling your phone in front of your face again. You went to “X” (you still couldn’t get used to calling it that instead of Twitter) and typed in “jungkook bangchan”. Surely the detectives on here would know a thing or two. You scrolled and scrolled. A few tweets about the same thing- the 97 liners grabbing dinner together, but it was more than just the two of them. Not a single picture of them together otherwise. Not a story about seeing them together either. Maybe Anna had a point.

“Fuck it, I’m gonna do it,” you said, not knowing where your newfound confidence came from. Anna started giggling and took a quick seat beside you on the edge of the hotel’s bathtub.

Your fingers began to type quickly, not allowing yourself time to think. Or rather, overthink.

Hey Chris! I could stop by late after lunch? I’m not sure of a specific time yet, but I can text you later when I find out?

Send.

“Okay, it’s done,” you breathed out… You sat there for a moment, absorbing all of the feelings and trying to get the nerves out.

“Pinch me,” you said to Anna with a huff coming out from your bottom lip.

She reached over, laughing, nipping you in the arm. “I’m so happy for you I could cry,” she continued, keeping that same big smile on her face. “Butttt,” she leaned in closer and began to whisper, “whoever you don’t take, just remember I’m single.” She winked and you started to laugh, pushing her away.

“Whatever,” you said jokingly. “BUT I have to shower. Now I have two guys to impress.”

——————————————

Chan’s POV:

‘It’s alright Chris, don’t be nervous,’ he thought to himself, still planted in his studio chair. ‘The worst she can say is no. Well I guess she could laugh at it and tell all of her friends that you’re whipped. In which case, you’re fucked. But she wouldn’t do that, right?’

Chan’s mind got the best of him and he decided to start pacing. He needed to get his mind on something else… but what? His new song! Yes, his new song. He had been working on a hook and just couldn’t figure out where he wanted to go with it. ‘I need Jisung,’ he thought. He sent a quick text his way to see if he was busy. He couldn’t help but to re-read the message he had sent you. He clicked on your profile to view all of the pictures. Your dogs, your friends, your birthday party. He pictured what he would look like included in each photo. He let his mind wonder, looking at one photo in particular. You had been at the beach. He didn’t stick to that photo because of anything you were wearing. You were fully clothed. There was just something about it. The way your smile was lit up like you had not a worry in the world. The way the sun cast a golden color all over your beautiful face. The fact that the beach was Chan’s favorite. He thought about what it would be like to be there with you. Walking along the shore, getting to know you better. What was your family like? How did you like your eggs cooked? Where was your favorite place in the world? He let himself get lost in the scenario.

*BUZZ*

Your instagram username flashed across the top of his screen. He clicked as soon as he possibly could.

Y/n’s Instagram username:

Hey Chris! I could stop by late after lunch? I’m not sure of a specific time yet, but I can text you later when I find out?

‘Yes Chris, Yes! See, it was just a rumor. A dumb rumor. I mean JK would have told you since you were the reason they had met. He couldn’t possibly be that into her after meeting her for 2 minutes. You worried for no reason.’ He was elated. Ecstatic even. He looked down to his phone, stupid grin on his face.

‘Felix, you’re fucking dead for giving me a heart attack like that,’ he thought.

The little shit quit responding. ‘He’s got about 4 hours to text back before I get home and jump him.’ Chan thought. He sunk down into his chair. All of his excitement was now replaced with confusion. This was gonna be a longggg night in the studio.

——————————————————————

Felix’s POV:

“SUCK ON THAT!” Felix screamed sarcastically. He had spent the last 2 hours plopped on the couch next to Changbin. They made it a point to get together once a week, no matter how busy, to play a few video games together. Today’s choice: League. Felix lowkey kinda sucked, and he knew that. But he didn’t care because Binnie sucked even more.

“No, you suck on this,” Changbin yelled back, putting Felix in a headlock and giving him a noogie.

“Ah! Ah! Ahhhhh!” Felix screamed for help, trying not to die laughing. “Someone help me!” he yelled, while grabbing at Changbin’s arms to rip him off. It was no use. No matter how much Felix flailed his body and thrashed left and right, Changbin’s hold was even tighter. Eventually, he ran out of energy and decided to just lie there. Changbin released him right after.

“So you admit defeat,” Changbin raised his eyebrow. Felix had a dazed look on his face, hair fluffed up from Bin’s relentless hand movements. He was just grappling for his breath back at this point.

“I’ll take that as a yes! Yay, next round!” Changbin said enthusiastically, turning back around to the tv.

‘Brain need oxygen. Can’t form word,’ Felix thought to himself. ‘Lol I can’t believe I just thought that. Felix you so silly.’ He smiled and focused his attention on the tv now too. Well, for a split second. Until Chan came barging in.

“Felix!” he called, like he was a tornado coming through the front door. He walked a few paces before setting foot into the living room. Felix just looked up with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Mate! Why did you do that?!” He walked over and snatched Felix’s controller from his hand.

“Damn, if you wanted to play, you just had to ask!” Felix said back seriously. You could see the annoyance growing louder on Chan’s face.

“Oh my gosh Felix. Your text, cunt!”

“My… OHHH my text,” he smirked while (horribly) trying to look inconspicuous.

“You better tell me what you know right now,” Chan threw his fist down. He was trying to “act” mad, but honestly he was really bad at acting. He actually was mad.

“I don’t know anything,” Felix smirked again. “I swearrrr. Don’t you trust me?” He smiled, squinting his eyes up at Chan with a suggestive look on his face.

“No I don’t, you little shit! Now tell me what you know!”

“Never!” Felix pouted.

“Tell me!”

“NO!”

“Tell me!”

“NOOO!”

“I will break this controller, don’t try me!”

“No you won’t.”

“Yes I will.”

“No you won’ttttt.”

“Yes I will.”

“Bet, do it then.”

Chan lifted the controller in the air and huffed out... “You’re right, I won’t.” He reached it back down to Felix.

Felix, now satisfied, took the controller and happily bobbed his head from side to side. “Thanks Channie-hyung!” he teased.

“Fuck off,” Chan retorted. ‘I hate being a father,’ Chan thought as he turned around to storm out. Once he was out the door, Changbin turned his body around to Felix.

“What don’t you know anything about?” Chanbin laughed.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Felix said with a flirty smile. “All I’m saying is it involved your mentee. That’s all, can’t talk about it anymore! New game, let’s go!” Felix avoided Changbin’s stares at all cost, fixating on the tv. Eventually Bin turned around to face it too, continuing on like nothing ever happened.

‘Fuck, that was close. Felix baby, you’ve gotta stop being so messy… Lmao who am I kidding, I love this shit.’

———————————————————————————————

Y/n’s POV: The next day

You arrived to the JYP building 10 minutes early to your professionalism training. You knew you would be able to see the finalized schedule first thing when you got there. All you knew so far was professionalism training at 9, hair and makeup, lunch, and begin shooting intros for the show. You had no clue how long each would take though.

You ran up in front of the big bulletin board posted outside of the conference room. You saw the agenda:

• 9:00 AM- Professionalism Training; Level 5 conference room

• 11:00 AM - 2:00 PM- Hair and Makeup; Level 7 shooting room; See list below for names and scheduled times

• 11:00 AM - 2:00 PM- Lunch break

• 2:00 PM- Shooting program material with mentors; Level 10 shooting rooms #1-5

• 8:00 PM- Dinner and drinks at Nine Mile Restaurant (see email for location and directions)

You quickly scrolled through the list of names below to see when you’d be scheduled for hair & makeup:

• Y/l/n, y/f/n: 11:00 AM

‘Fuck yeah,’ you thought. ‘Getting hair and makeup done first. It shouldn’t take over an hour, right? Surely not. They have new people scheduled for 12 and 1, so yeah, you’re good. No more than an hour.’ You quickly took your phone out to send a message to the 2 boys waiting to hear back from you.

To: abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz

Hey, I should be good to go around noon today. Do you still want to meet me outside the JYP building?

SEND.

To: gnabnahc

I could meet you around 1-1:30 today? Does that work for you?

You let out a hot breath and headed into the conference room. There, you found Anna who had already walked in while you told her you’d check for both your names on the bulletin board. You saw a couple of other girls you had met as well through the night with Stray Kids. They were Seungmin and Han’s mentees. You had all instantly connected that night and you were excited to spend more time with them.

Once you were settled in, you gave into the gossip that everyone was discussing.

“Yeah, I heard her dad works for JYPE high up in marketing and that’s how she got in,” Sunnie whispered to the group.

“OMG I heard that too!” Anna bounced up and down. “I’m not even sure where I heard it from.”

“Literally same. I also heard that one of the new cast members was,” Kara leaned down low, “hooking up with Jungkook,” she giggled. You had to physically stop yourself from your jaw dropping on the floor. You were not SLEEPING with Jungkook. You hadn’t even had fucking lunch with him yet!

“OMG who?!” Sunnie questioned.

“I don’t know, it’s just what I heard some of the other girls saying. I don’t think anyone knows,” Kara added. “Which meanssss, we’re gonna have to keep an eye out for Jeon Jungkook ladies. See who the culprit is,” she laughed.

You and Anna looked at each other, trying to fake a laugh right along with them. You were sure she could see the panic in your eyes.

Suddenly, you heard a voice come over the speakers and the lights began to dim. ‘Let’s get this training over with.’

———— 3 hours later ————

Abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: Out front waiting on you :) I’ve got on a black mask and baseball cap in case you don’t recognize me. That’s kind of the point haha

y/n: On my way down!

Your nerves were starting to get to you, but you tied them down. This was just two people getting lunch after all. That’s literally it. Plus, why would you be nervous anyway? You were the one that made a great first impression anyway. He was the one who had something to prove.

Plus, not to brag, but you looked damn good. The hair and and makeup department definitely knows what they’re doing.

*DING*

You arrived at the ground floor and quickly made your way out of the main exit. You scanned your head first to the right, looking for a black cap, then to the left. The problem was… There were like 10 of them.

‘Fucking hell, why does everyone have to dress the same?’ you thought. You wondered off to the left, seeing if you could get a better look. Suddenly, a black figure appeared next to you. You turned to see a bright-eyed Jungkook, mask covering the lower half of his face, stood straight and proud with the most beautiful bouquet you’d ever seen. Pinks, purples, blues, greens. All of your favorite colors incorporated into one. Was this a sign?

“Y/n! Hi! I brought these for you,” you couldn’t see his mouth, but by how scrunched up his eyes got, you assumed he was smiling.

“Oh my goodness, they’re beautiful! You didn’t have to do that!” You smiled up at him and went in for a side hug. Surprisingly, it wasn’t even awkward. Jungkook just gave off such a charming, confident vibe.

“I wanted to. I saw them and automatically thought of you.” You blushed down into the bouquet you were now holding.

“You’re too sweet,” you flashed the biggest grin. ‘Okay, so maybe he’s better than I thought.’ “Where do you want to go?”

“How do you feel about bibimbap?”

“I love it!” You’d only had it once, but you assumed you’d still love it. “But just so you know, I really don’t have that much time today. I need to try to be back in an hour or so.”

“I completely understand. I’m just happy you could pencil some time in for me,” his hand grazed the side of yours, sending a shock up your arm. “I was gonna say that my favorite bibimbap place is right around the corner and I’d love to take you there.”

“Sounds good to me! Let’s go!”

He had a smile painted across his face looking down at you with the pretty flowers in your hand. You were just as beautiful as he remembered. “Follow me. And hold on to me if you need to. Wouldn’t want you getting lost in this crowd,” he chuckled, giving you a wink.

Your heart fluttered. Why was it fluttering?

Jungkook turned to lead you around the street. It was pretty packed, but what else would you expect in the middle of Seoul at lunch time. You could tell that JK was looking down slightly, making sure he didn’t get recognized. You ended up actually reaching to hold onto the back of his coat to make sure you didn’t get separated. You weren’t about to fight your way through the crowd to get a view of every Korean man currently wearing a black coat, hat, and mask. It would take all day.

You both made your way down the busy street, finally able to squeeze next to each other and talk about how your day was going so far. You know, all the basic boring stuff that you had to get out of the way. You soon reached a set of narrow, tall stairs almost hidden away.

“This way,” Jungkook said, taking the first step up. You looked down to see how tall the stairs were and mannnn you thought you were going to have to catapult yourself up.

Jungkook saw the hesitancy in your eyes and quickly leaned the upper half of his body down, holding one hand out for you to grab onto. You graciously took it, as he slowly ascended, making sure you followed him every step of the way. Once you reached the top, you finally jumped up onto the platform of the restaurant, now pressed right up to JK. He still had your hand in his.

“Nice job for a first timer,” he joked, squeezing your hand before he gently put it down and let it go. It was one of the most tender things you’d ever felt. He was handling you with such care.

You followed him as he walked a few steps to the door. He opened it for you and let you step inside first. Your eyes took a moment to focus as you acclimated to the new atmosphere. ‘It’s dark…’ you thought to yourself, eyes now tuning in. ‘And damn, it’s NICE.’ You looked around the the swanky bar to the left, wall topped off with liquors you kne you’d never afford in your lifetime- even on a doctor’s salary. Black tablecloths covered each table, with booths being tucked away into walls. Candles were the main source of the lighting and made for a seductive atmosphere.

“Hello, I had a reservation for Jeon Jungkook,” JK told the host at the stand on the right. She was beautiful, in formal all black attire and long, black hair.

“Of course. Right this way,” she stepped out from behind her podium and led you both to a booth at the far back of the restaurant. It was tucked out of the way, no other tables reaching beyond it. No one would have a reason to walk this way unless delivering food to the table directly.

“Will this do?” she looked to Jungkook.

“It’s perfect, thank you,” he smiled as she left.

“Here, let me help you,” he reached out to you, gently taking your flowers and setting them on the far side of one of the booth’s benches. He walked behind you to grab onto one arm of your coat, allowing you to slip out easily. He held onto the coat and placed it next to the flowers.

“Watch out, it’s a step up,” he said, reaching for your hand. What is up with all these steps?

You looked into his eyes, silently thanking him for the thoughtfulness, while taking his hand. He led you over the two steps to the table and held tightly as you took the step up and over. Once you were settled in, he looked satisfied and took his place on the opposite side.

The rest of the meal was a whirlwind. You learned so many things about him. First, that he is an absolute devourer of bibimbap. Second, that he was actually really funny and down to earth… Charming too, but were you really going to admit that? Third, he actually had a super cute, bunny-like smile that popped up every time he caught you staring at him for too long.

You actually got along very well. ‘What a pleasant surprise,’ you thought. Conversation was just so easy with him. Maybe you didn’t get into the deep stuff with him like you did with Chan, but so what? This was only lunch. What did you expect him to do, give you his entire life story? He oozed confidence and playfulness, something you were envious of. Maybe, after more time with him, you thought you could learn to have those qualities as well.

You were both laughing over a story of how you accidentally cursed at someone in Korean on your second day here when all of a sudden, your phone lit up. 1:02 PM. Dang, it went by that fast?

“I think I’m running out of time,” you looked down with puppy dog eyes, motioning him to look at your phone.

“Awww, it’s alright. We better get you back on time though. The last thing I need is someone from JYP on my ass,” he laughed.

A small laugh left your mouth too as you both moved to exit the booth. He helped you put your coat back on and placed the flowers back into your hands. He grabbed 3 bills of 50,000 won out of his wallet, and placed it on top of the bill on the table. ‘Damn, this man’s a good tipper.’

“Here,” you scrambled to grab your own wallet out of your coat pocket. “At least let me pay half,” you started to take some money out.

“No, no y/n,” he grasped onto your forearm for a short moment. “Put your money up. Please. It’s on me.”

“Are you sure? I promise I don’t mind one bit to pay. Let me just-“ you stopped talking as you watched his eyebrows lift and his eyes get wide, small grin on his face as if saying “watch yourself now.” He was still holding tightly to your arm, not letting you lift it.

“Okay, okay,” you smiled, putting your wallet away. “But I owe you!”

He smiled at that. “Come on, let’s get you back.”

——————————————————

Chan’s POV:

He had been a nervous wreck thinking about seeing you. Thinking about what he should say in order for you to be interested in him. He knew through your messages to him that you’d be there closer to 1:15, so he made sure he’d get back in time.

He tried to calm his nerves by going out to grab an iced tea really quickly at a local shop. He couldn’t stomach any food- not right now. Once he finally got the chilly beverage in his hands, he walked his way back out into the cold. Only a couple minute walk from the company building.

‘Alright Chris, pull yourself together. Whatever you say, she’s gonna understand. She’s great, so of course she’s gonna understand. She may even be just as nervous as you, you never know.’ He let his mind wonder. He started to picture a scenario. One of you seated next to him in his studio. He had finally worked up the courage to ask you on a date- a proper date. Maybe he jumbled up the words a little bit, but you found it endearing. You nodded your head excitedly, saying how you’d love to go on a date with him. He would take you somewhere nice, somewhere you would get dressed up for him. You’d drink red wine and talk about anything and everything- what you loved and what your passions were. Your eyes would have a certain sparkle that only happened when you looked at him. By the end of the date, you’d be asking when you could see him again. He’d hold your hand, your warm little hand, as you left to say your goodbyes.

As wonderful as the daydream was, Chan suddenly snapped out of it. He froze, standing rigid, then almost tumbling back. There’s no way.

There you stood in front of him. With all the beauty that you were. But you were with someone. A man. Chan squinted to see what he could make out. Jungkook? Fuck, that was definitely Jungkook.

You were smiling up at him and clung onto him for a long hug. He gave in, leaning his head down to plant a small kiss on the top of your forehead. You giggled, waved goodbye, then ran inside the company building.

With that, Chan felt his heart shatter for the very first time.

Through the building’s glass walls, he watched as you made your way a little further, then stopped to bring your phone out. 10 seconds later, he felt a buzz from his phone

From: y/n’s instagram

Hey, I’m here :) Should I head on up to you?

He wanted to cry.

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

✨ Continue to ➡️ Chapter 4

✨if you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging <3

[simp-ly-writes]

Medals, Meetings, & Contracts

Can be read as a standalone: In my Shadow (pt.2)

Pairing: Commander Philip Graves x Shadow!Reader

Summary: You have became a deeply valued asset as Shadow Company, your time spent with the commander only grows alongside your unknown feelings towards him- yet when a mission arises, what does that mean for your future?

Warnings: mentions of jealousy and light teasing.

A/N: In all honesty, I forgot I started to write this a while back but I hope you enjoy this new part nonetheless! :)

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

In my Shadow Series (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) you are here

↳ Building a new routine in a different organization, timezone, and country entirely was easier and more enjoyable than you expected with your team by your side

↳ Yet your squad had grown as well, you were freshly in charge of five new members, now a nine person strong task force it definitely made the days go by quicker and easier, not everyone had to go on the mission at the same time, you could be working on a mission from various angles within various countries all at the same time

↳ Your management skills from back in Europe were coming into full effect as the officials at Shadow Company could not be happier with your performance in the months to follow since your arrival

↳ You felt nothing but pride swell in your chest as you placed the logo on your gear and headed out of your apartment each morning to converse with the other shadows, hearing their backgrounds, stories, accomplishments and failures alike- it was a productive atmosphere that had you pushing your team towards greatness

↳ And greatness you achieved, the team was a crowning achievement of the recruiting board as your mission success rate pummelled any past records- hostage rescues, check! world-saving documents- stolen, social attacks settled in the dirt with officials safe and sound , back at home

↳ Various commissioners always wrote letters in praise of your teams work- the additional badges on your formal uniforms only became fuller, each beaming proudly in the sunlight

↳ Soon enough you were reporting directly towards the commander himself, you were given weekly meetings with him (as his assistant told you through various passive-aggressive emails and voicemails that you debated bringing up in converastion)

↳ Your meetings were always enjoyable, he usually ordered coffee (or tea) with lunch as you both discussed recent and future missions with a fair deal of light arguing, sarcasm, and a few eye-rolling puns from your end, time would fly-by as you got to know each other more

↳ Soon enough, handshakes were small hugs before and after meetings alongside a hand on your shoulder as he led you out of his office became more apparent in actions as well as to your squad members with raised eyebrows and somewhat sealed-lips as they texted the home-team back in England of your adventures

↳ During one of these meetings, Graves would casually drop that you all would be going on a combined attack with the British SAS as he pulls your chair closer to his, showing you a map on his computer, barley paying attention to the information being displayed in your shock- you failed to hear the commander add he was joining to ensure the success of this mission

↳ A few days later you were picking at your squads uniforms once more as the elevator ascended towards the chairmans office, Graves stood in a suit (much to your distraction), his assistant chatting annoyingly in the corner as she flipped through various documents on her tablet- she kept the type clicking sound on as you bashed your forehead against your team member with a groan as he chuckled and rubbed your shoulder lightly before whispering for you to shut the hell up too

↳ The numbers above climbed as Graves drowned out the various meetings being called, all scheduled with the shareholders before he left with your team, his eyes narrowing slightly at your... unprofessionalism with your squad mate...

↳ ...The elevator dings and Graves is back to facing forwards as he fixes his tie and exits the elevator before trailing down the carpeted floors and up to the commissioners office where a surprise awaited you both

↳ In the room stood Laswell and Price off to the side, observing the world go by through the floor-to-ceiling windows. You stood in the doorframe, shock coursing through your veins- you were supposed to meet them in England not here. Your team mates shove you out of the way going up to introduce themselves as you see Graves walk in front you, pressing a hand in between your shoulders as he introduces you to the commissioner.

↳ Laswell and Price look at each other before looking back at you and your commander opening various folders against the commissioners desk. Your hands slightly float over one another as you both point out to various strategies and points of interest

↳ The meeting goes smoothly as Graves invites the British members back to headquarters for a much needed catch-up as your team cheers out from behind you and demands drinks as well, as you shake hands goodbye to the commissioner, apologizing for your teams rowdiness with a blush-covering your face as you hear the assistant hiss at Graves from behind, he was late to something now apparently as your notes form the desk

↳ Back at headquarters, you are interrogated by Laswell and Price to say the least as they demand to know how the Shadows are treating you- how Graves is treating you and if there is any possible way that you would come back to the SAS

↳ When Graves gets wind of this counter-offer, hells he is stalking up to the meeting room you all are settled into, pulling your chair closer to one he places himself in as he disregards the others in the room and tilting your chair so that your knees are in between his own as he ensures your loyalty to the company. The next moment a promotion contract is being waved in your face before he saunters back out of the room with a mock salute towards Laswell and the Captain with a wink directed towards yourself as the door slams closed and a whistles sounds down the hall

↳ Hiding behind yet another new contract, you blush heavily- very much embarrassed by your commanders apparent outburst, "I guess I'll take that as a no?" Price comments with a light chuckle in his voice as Laswell rolls her eyes and opens her palm, shaking it slightly in a silent demand to read the new contract given

↳ You hand her the document at the request she puts it into your mailbox in the commons building before making your way for nightly PT once more with your team. They all look towards you with knowing looks as you groan out into the night sky- when would you catch a break?

↳ The next morning you were rushing out of bed at the sound of your alarm, falling into the wall as you kicked your boots on and tightened your belt. The rest of your gear would have to wait as you chucked it all into a rucksack and dashed towards the honking truck in the parking lot- it was time for your biggest mission yet.

╰┈➤ A/N: hope you all enjoyed this, I know its a bit different to what I usually write... anyways, want a part 3 or even something else, let me know- I love hearing, or-well reading your ideas :)

In my Shadow Series (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) you are here

[writercole]

A Guardian Angel and Her Knight

Summary: Jake finally meets his match.

Words: 3700ish

Warnings: Fights, blood, unknown collapse (not an MC), toxic masculinity, Jake to the rescue

Credits: I did it all, unbeta’d.

A/N: Happy 2023, guys. We did it. We lived another effing year. We outlived the queen. Maybe we’ll be fortunate enough to outlive the king. And the human cheeto. ANYWAY - here’s the first fic of the year. It’s a 5 + 1 for @resanoona ’s challenge. Five times she shot Jake down and one time she didn’t.

The new batch of recruits were a rowdy bunch, always looking to prove their worth. Penny started to have so many bar fights and injuries that she hired an EMT on the weekends. She knew her Dagger kids would handle the security part of it if she needed. And she always threw a drink or two on the house for their troubles. 

Tonight was the first night the EMT was on duty, sitting at the bar quietly sipping a soda between conversations with Penny. 

“I said, leave me alone,” a female voice carried over the noise.

“Don’t be like that, baby,” a male voice replied.

Penny raised her hand to the aviators hanging out in the corner and signaled for her EMT to be ready. 

“Hey, man, time to go,” a blond man said as he approached the drunken harasser, putting a hand on his shoulder to make sure he was understood. 

“I ain’t done,” the drunk replied, shoving the hand off of his shoulder and turning back to the woman who was cowering away from him. “Why do you have to be such a bitch?” he growled.

“Coyote,” the blond called, his demeanor immediately shifting to a more defensive stance.

“On it,” his friend nodded and grabbed the drunk’s wrist. “I believe the lady doesn’t want to talk right now.”

The drunk tried to lift his arm, held firmly down by the bigger man’s grip. Instead of relenting, the drunk threw his other elbow back, catching the blond off guard, smashing into his nose.

“Seresin, you good?” the one called Coyote asked as his friend pinched his nose and blinked rapidly.

“Oh, I’m good, Machado,” he sneered as he stared at the drunk. “I’m very good.” 

Without warning, Seresin spun the drunk around, throwing two jabs to his nose before landing a right hook to his jaw, the drunk falling slack against Coyote.

“Coyote, Hangman,” Penny yelled across the crowd that had gathered. The men looked up and she pointed outside and then at an empty pair of seats at the bar.

They nodded in understanding and tossed the man out the front door, sliding into the two seats with fresh beers, not noticing the medical bag next to them.

“Okay Coyote, any injuries?” they heard from the side. Both men turned their heads to see a woman in an SDFD EMT tee shirt opening a bag of gloves.

“He didn’t hit me at all but he must have been contagious because I swear I’m looking at an angel right now,” Coyote drawled, sipping from his beer as he eyed her.

“Easy, sailor,” she chuckled. 

“Oh no, sweetheart, I’m not a sailor,” he grinned, a million dollar smile that would have made her melt if she weren’t so focused on her job. “I’m a pilot. But you can just call me Javy.”

“Well, Javy, since you’re okay, can I take a look at your partner in crime?”

Javy turned to look at his friend and swore under his breath. He had a trickle of blood dripping from his lip and bruising forming around the bridge of his nose. Javy stepped behind his friend, letting the new EMT do her job.

“Alright, flyboy,” she smirked as she stepped in front of the blond, “tell me if anything hurts besides your nose.”

“It’s a little hard to breathe,” he replied, his eyes dancing across her face as she cleaned up the blood on his lip.

“Did he catch you anywhere on your chest or throat? Any history of heart problems, anxiety, panic attacks?”

“No, just my nose,” he denied, a smirk etched on his lips matching hers. “It’s only when I look at you that I can’t breathe.”

She rolled her eyes and pinched the cartilage between the bottom lashes of his eyes, eliciting a groan that made his smirk drop.

“Well, it’s not broken. Probably be sore and bruised for a couple of days. Just ice it and you’ll be fine, flyboy.”

“If you’re going to call me a name, call me Hangman.”

“Hangman,” he corrected as she turned to pack away her bag.

“Excuse me?”

“Your parents must have wanted you to go into executions. I think I’ll pass, thanks though,” she shrugged as she shifted her bag to the stool.

“Seresin, stop harassing my EMT,” Penny demanded as she set a round of beers in front of them. “On the house if you keep your mouth shut.”

“Yes ma’am,” Hangman nodded, Javy agreeing, both of them picking up their drinks.

“Stay out of trouble, boys,” the EMT called as they turned to walk away.

“Aren’t you going to tell us your name, angel?” Javy flirted, stopping a few steps from their normal position at the pool tables.

“Not tonight.”

“So you really didn’t tell them your name?” Dawson asked her partner as they pulled up to the scene of a call. 

“No!” her partner laughed, “they insisted on calling me ‘angel’ for the rest of the weekend, too.”

They were laughing as they pulled their bags out of the ambulance, heading towards the flashing red and blue lights of the police cars. 

“Well if it isn’t my healer,” a voice drawled from next to the cop car.

The two women paused and looked over, finding a blond man leaning against the unit, smirking.

“Friend of yours?” Dawson teased with a nudge.

“Something like that,” she chuckled. “Executioner, what have you gotten yourself into this time?”

“That’s Hangman, darlin,” he corrected, grimacing when he tried to flash his award-winning smile.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she flirted, batting her eyelashes at him. “Can I take him, officer?”

“Yeah, I’m done for now,” the officer acknowledged. “Stay available, sir.”

“Thanks. Alright, Executioner. Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

“If you won’t call me Hangman, how about Jake?” he offered as he stood.

“Nah, I like Executioner,” she smirked, walking towards the ambulance, ignoring the feeling of eyes on her, shaking her head and rolling her eyes at the knowledge that it was her partner watching closely. “Sit. Lemme look,” she sighed, gesturing to the space on the bumper.

As he sat, she maneuvered between his knees, tipping his head backwards to get a good view of the wounds on his face.

“Are you going to tell me your name tonight?” he asked while she cleaned the blood from his cheek, hissing when she passed over an open cut.

“That depends,” she replied, her gaze unwavering from her task, “why do you want to know so bad?”

“I need to know what I’m saving your number under when you give it to me.” The uninjured corner of his mouth quirked up as he awaited her response.

She rolled her eyes and swiped a fresh alcohol pad across his split lip, grinning in the pained groan she received until she felt his hands tighten on her hips.

“Easy with that,” he sassed, “I’m an injured knight.”

“Is that how you got beat up once again? Being a knight for another distressed damsel?” she asked, a light smile upon her face.

“Mugger,” he answered simply, his fingertips digging into her hips once again at the stinging burn of an alcohol pad.

“And yet here you are, no better than he, holding onto my hips for dear life,” she bit back, her eyebrows quirked at his confidence.

“I’m sorry, is this distracting you?” he teased, squeezing once more.

“Not as much as the bravery you’re showing by touching a woman without her permission in front of two police officers,” she shrugged briefly, eyeing him curiously as she awaited his next move.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cross a line or something. It was just a reflex,” he rushed out, letting his hands drop to his sides again.

“Well, since you did stop a mugging, I can let it go this time. You’re all done,” she told him as she stepped out of his space.

“I’m done? No stitches, no hospital?”

“No stitches, no hospital,” she repeated as she cleaned up her supplies. “Stay out of trouble, Executioner.”

“Correcting you again would do nothing, right?” he deadpanned, a mischievous twinkle making his tired eyes a little brighter.

“Not tonight,” she grinned before shutting the back doors of the ambulance and climbing in the passenger seat.

Dawson eyed her curiously, a smirk playing on her lips. “He was hot, girl.”

“Mhmm” was the only reply she got.

After a grueling 48 hour shift and very little sleep, she found herself leaning on the bar, fighting to keep her eyes open. The Hard Deck was quiet for a change, just a few sailors and pilots relaxing. She was grateful for the break but she also kind of wanted some excitement, something to keep her awake for the next few hours.

Her eyes had drifted closed during the silent moment, popping open when someone cleared their throat next to her.

“I don’t think you should be sleeping on the job, darlin. What if someone passes out.”

She sighed as she sat up straight, finding the annoying blond pilot that somehow ended up in the same place that she was. “It has been a long week, Executioner,” she groaned, “I’m too tired for your shit.”

“I could wake you up. Got a fool-proof method right here,” he smirked, gesturing to his crotch.

The sound of a bell ringing saved her from answering and made Jake drop his head, fully aware that Penny had heard him.

“Seresin, I told you to leave my EMT alone,” chastised Penny. “Maybe buying a round will remind you how to speak to a lady, too.”

“Sorry, Penny,” he mumbled, his cheeks and ears bright red. “I’ll, uh, I’m just going…good night.”

It took everything she had to keep her composure.

She had finally gotten some rest before a shift at the bar and was happily chatting with Penny when a ruckus from the pool tables drew their attention. They both looked up in time to see Jake push Phoenix out of he way and swing at a man at least six inches taller than him. The man swung back and then swept Jake’s feet from under him.

“Shit!” they both yelled as they scrambled to the fight.

Jake had fallen backwards and hit his head on the edge of a table, collapsing in a heap on the wooden floor. Phoenix and Bob were crouched next to him while Payback, Javy, and Mickey strained to hold the man back.

“Bob, I need you to get some ice and a cold rag,” she instructed, “and Natasha, please go to my car and get the duffel out of the back seat. It’s unlocked.”

“I saw him fall backwards,” Javy explained as he struggled against the guy he was holding. “I think he hit the back of his head.”

“Thanks, Javy,” she called over her shoulder as she checked the back of Jake’s head. She swore when her fingers found a wet spot behind his ear, pulling it back to see blood on her fingertips. Phoenix dropped the duffel next to her as Bob arrived with the ice and rag.

Jake started to stir as she put her gloves on, breathing a sigh of relief when his eyes focused on her.

“What happened?” he muttered as he tried to sit up, stopping when she laid her hand on his chest.

“Guy grabbed my ass and wouldn’t back off,” Natasha explained, “you squared up and got swept into a table.”

“And you need to relax until I make sure you don’t have a concussion, Jake.”

“You called me Jake,” he noted with a soft smile.

“I did,” she confirmed as she checked his pupil reactivity. “Do you know what I usually call you?”

“Executioner,” he answered with a soft sigh. “Because it’s synonymous with Hangman. You said my parents must’ve hated me.”

“I did,” she chuckled.

“And you still haven’t told me your name. I guess I’m going to have to call you my guardian angel,” he smirked.

“Okay, Executioner. That’s enough. Do you think you can sit up?”

Jake slowly rose to a seated position, the crowd around him clapping as he stood, bracing himself on Bob’s shoulder. He swayed a bit and reached out to stabilize with the back of a chair.

“Seresin, you alright?” Bob asked.

“Yeah,” Jake replied, “yeah, a little dizzy.”

“You also have a cut I need to check. Penny’s office.” She grabbed her duffel and followed behind Bob and Jake.

He was silent as she bandaged the cut, almost deep enough to need a stitch. His eyes were focused on the mirror reflecting her working. He made the decision that he had been pushing too hard and that he’d back off, letting her do her job in peace and not try to get the attention of someone who was uninterested.

“Okay, just take it easy until tomorrow and you should be fine,” she chirped, taking her gloves off and collecting her supplies.

“Uh, thanks,” he mumbled. “Listen, I know I can come on a bit strong sometimes and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“While I agree with you coming on a little strong, I was far from uncomfortable. Hell, you weren’t the worst guy I’ve had this year, much less ever.”

“Still, my momma would be appalled. She raised me better than that,” Jake admitted, ducking his head.

“Your momma?” she repeated, turning around with a smirk. “Are you a good ol’ country boy, Jake?”

He chuckled at her teasing, raising his gaze to her, “yes ma’am. Texas born and bred.”

“A true southern gentleman,” she smiled softly. “I’ll tell you what, Jake. I’ll forget all about the past if you promise to stop getting into trouble.”

He returned her smile, dimples popping and eyes crinkling. “Deal. But I’m still calling you my guardian angel.”

“Or you can call me by name.”

Jake was so surprised that he didn’t hear the first time she told him, and the second time, he swore her name was perfect. A perfect name for an angel.

“Possible heart attack,” Dawson relayed as she and her partner navigated the restaurant, heading towards the crowd gathered around.

“At least you aren’t my guardian angel tonight,” Jake smirked from the floor when the EMTs reached the center of the chaos.

“Jake, what happened?” she asked, kneeling next to the man who had become a friend.

“He collapsed on the floor when he was on his way back from the restroom. I started compressions and my date called 911,” he explained as he backed away, letting the paramedics take their spots.

“No medical bracelet, erratic pulse. Dawson, get the defib ready. Something feels wrong,” she detailed to her partner.

They got the man loaded up quickly. When she turned around after slamming the door shut, she was met with Jake standing with his hands in his pockets and a redhead looking on with arms folded across her chest and a scowl on her face.

“Is, uh, is he gonna be okay?” Jake questioned as his gaze wandered to the ambulance doors.

“I don’t know. Something feels weird about this case,” she answered, glancing over Jake’s shoulder. “You should go. Jessica Rabbit looks pissed.”

She turned and climbed into the passenger seat, signaling for Dawson to go, leaving Jake standing in the parking lot with a suspicious and angry date.

Jake was acutely aware of the presence of the woman he called his guardian angel. She must have been off duty because she was sitting with another woman, one he recognized as her ambulance partner, and having a beer. The two of them were talking and laughing, occasionally including Penny in their conversations.

He tried to keep his distance, to forget about her being there and enjoy the night with his friends but his eyes wandered over to her every few minutes. He was aware of the fact that she had worked her way under his skin effortlessly, embedding herself in his thoughts. He also knew that while they were friendly, she really hadn’t shown much interest in him.

Jake glanced up from his game of pool to see Dawson sitting by herself, deep in conversation with Penny. He scanned the bar, not finding the woman he was searching for among the crowd. Before he could jump to any conclusions, he heard his name being called.

“Jake!” Nat yelled from across the pool table, pointing behind him.

He spun around to find his friend maneuvering through the bar, a frazzled look on her face and a man on her heels.

“Phoenix, get Penny,” he demanded as he set down his pool stick and marched towards them.

“I said I’m not interested,” he heard her say.

“Oh come on, sweetheart. You know you want me,” her pursuer sneered.

“I said -”

“There you are, angel,” Jake interrupted, a megawatt smile gracing his lips. “Was starting to wonder where you had disappeared to.”

A look of relief flooded her features as she spied Jake walking through the tables towards her. She slipped her arms around him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. A shock shot through her lips the moment they met his, surprising her to her core.

Jake was unfazed, his arm wrapping around her as he played along.

“My bad, man,” the pursuer said, his hands up in surrender, “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”

“She shouldn’t have to have a boyfriend. She said she wasn’t interested. You should have taken the hint,” Jake snarled.

The sound of a bell ringing echoed through the busy bar followed by loud cheers. Jake kept his eyes on the man, a smug smirk fixed on his lips while his arm tightened protectively around her waist, keeping her back towards the man as Omaha and Harvard escorted him out.

“You okay?” Jake asked as he pulled back, his gentle gaze searching her face for any indication that she was hurt.

“Yeah, yeah I’m -” she sighed, “I’m good.”

“Let me know if you need me again tonight,” he told her, releasing her from his grasp. 

“Actually, Jake, could we, maybe…talk? Outside?”

“Sure. Anything for my guardian angel.” He offered his arm to her and led her to the back porch.

“About that kiss,” she started, halting when Jake held up his hand.

“Trust me, darlin, there’s nothing to apologize for or feel awkward about,” he assured her.

“Even if I want to do it again?”

Jake’s jaw dropped and his hand fell back to his side. “I’m sorry, angel, you’re going to have to repeat that.”

“I know I’ve spent the last few weeks turning you down. I know it’s crazy. But you really do seem like a great, honest guy and when I kissed you,” she rambled, pausing to suck in a deep breath, “I felt something. And it could be nothing -”

She was cut off by Jake’s lips pressing against hers, his hands cupping her face. His lips moved against hers and her eyes fluttered shut, sighing contentedly when his tongue swept over her bottom lip.

He pulled back slowly, leaving his hands holding her face. Their lips were centimeters apart, shallow breaths mingling in the restricted space between his wrists. Jake’s eyes stayed shut for several seconds, savoring the moment.

“Wow,” he whispered as he opened his eyes, watching her lashes flutter.

“I -” she started, her voice barely audible as she searched the eyes of the man who, moments ago, became her personal knight in shining armor.

“So does this mean you’re giving me a chance?” His signature smirk was back on his lips as he let his hands drop.

“That depends,” she replied, looking up at him doe-eyed and fluttering her lashes, “am I giving my knight in shining armor Jake a chance or am I giving the royal pain in my ass Executioner a chance?”

“Darlin, for you, Executioner is dead and buried.”

“Then yes. I’m off tomorrow, too.”

“I will pick you up at seven.” Jake kissed her cheek and walked backwards towards the parking lot, a wide smile on his face.

“Hey Jake?” she called as he reached his truck.

“Yeah?”

“Why not tonight?”

A cocky smile flashed across his face before disappearing, being replaced with a softer, more genuine one. “You’re giving Jake a chance, not Hangman. Jake’s a gentleman, he wants to do things the right way.”

“And how is he going to find where I live? He doesn’t have my address or phone number.”

Jake chuckled as he took a step back. “You are going to go back inside and finish your night with your friend. And if you really want me to pick you up at seven, you can text me in the morning.”

“But how -”

“Trust me,” he insisted as he climbed into his truck and backed out of the lot.

She walked back inside in a daze, confusion written all over face. Siding into her spot next to Dawson, she reviewed the events that had transpired earlier in the evening. A hand waving in front of her face broke her from her trance.

“Where were you just now?” Dawson questioned playfully, a knowing smirk dancing on her lips.

“He’s not what I expected,” she muttered as she leaned on her hand.

“Hangman is a jackass, but Jake…he’s a good man,” the brunette pilot, Natasha, confirmed from beside Dawson. “You have no idea how much it pains me to say nice things about him, either. He’s a thorn in my side at work but every time I’ve been in trouble on the ground, he’s had my back.”

Jake slid between the sheets of his bed just past midnight, hoping for a few hours of sleep. As soon as his eyes closed, his phone lit up. Checking it, he found an unsaved number had sent him a few digits and a street name.

Jake counted his lucky stars and resigned himself to skipping the gym and sleeping in. He had a date to plan, after all.

[transformers-bold-bright-brisk]

Oh my god…

I can’t believe I’m saying this but…

I…I’m considering re-re-designing both RCRR(Roll Call Rescue Recruits) teams. Since I just went nutz with how I drew them in the Zine I took part in. I’m not sure if I should simplify the designs or just draw them with I drew them in the Zine.

Tbh I might do both since I have A LOT of free time now.

[october-writes]

In celebration of passing the 150K word mark with my WIP

Here's another sneak peek of Icarus featuring my baby boy, STARS officer Leon.

---

The STARS Office, Raccoon City, 7th July 1998

‘What gets coffee stains out of a white t-shirt?’

Jill Valentine, his superior and his sponsor in the Special Tactics and Rescue Service, looked at him cock-eyed like he’d just admitted to pissing his pants in the middle of role call.

‘I don’t know, Leon. What gets coffee stains out of a white t-shirt?’ she asked with a vulpine grin like she couldn’t wait for the punchline.

Leon threw himself into his chair and spun it to face her, ‘I spilled coffee on my favourite Van Halen t-shirt.’

‘D’aww. That must suck for you!’ she crooned and shot him an unconvincing pout, ‘But I’m not laying a finger on your dirty laundry, buddy. Nice try.’

Leon baulked, ‘I didn’t mean it like that! I’m asking for your advice.’

‘And you’re not asking one of the guys because...?’ Jill waggled her eyebrows at him expectantly.

Good question.

Oh.

Shit.

He’d offended her.

Until the upcoming arrival of their latest recruit, Rebecca Chambers, Jill had been the only woman in STARS. She wasn’t self conscious about it. She carried herself upright and unyielding like the STARS office had been built around her. But she was young, attractive and a damn good cop. If a guy at the RPD wasn’t crushing on her and trying to angle for a date, he was usually acting out, threatened by her profile and thrown by her blatant disinterest in making nice with the regular uniforms.

Leon respected her. Hell, he owed his place on this programme to her! It pained him to imagine her thinking otherwise.

‘I’m sorry. I only meant...’ Leon sighed and chose his next words carefully like he was measuring them out with a teaspoon, ‘Look, you’re one of the only real adults here besides Wesker, Kenny and Barry. Did you know that Joey just buys new underwear every other week instead of doing laundry?’

Jill’s fake grimace turned very real, ‘Augh! Well, I do now! Thanks for that.’

‘I didn’t wanna suffer alone,’ Leon shrugged cheekily.

‘Speaking of suffering,’ Jill paused to lower her voice, ‘How’s the shiner?’

She waggled her finger at the swollen bruise cushioning Leon’s left eye.

Leon’s smile withered and he felt faintly queasy, ‘How’s it look?’

Jill puckered her lips as she looked him over, ‘Like you picked a fight with your pride and lost.’

He nodded and rolled back to his desk. He was meant to be reviewing some old case files and searching for discrepancies between witness statements following a report of three missing hikers in the Arklay trail.

The Blue Bird nature trails outside the city were award-winning for their biodiversity and their cleanliness. They were beloved by ornithologists, fishermen and campers alike and it was rare to hear of any serious incidents within their boundaries besides a few broken bones or the occasional bear sighting.

The RPD’s Missing Persons Unit had hit a wall, so STARS had been asked to lend an extra few pairs of eyes to the investigation.

At least, that’s what Leon had been told. He’d almost had to pry the case file from Officer Mulligan’s hands that morning. The cop had snorted at Leon’s polite ‘thank you’ before storming off like a castrated bull. Leon had been here long enough to tell when Chief Irons had strong-armed the detectives into surrendering a prized case to STARS.

He’d poured over the files until his sight blurred, but Leon hadn’t found anything unusual in the reports. The RPD’s Missing Persons Unit had been doing a solid job. Besides a few misspellings, he couldn’t find fault with their paperwork. Wesker had asked him to look again, but Leon was beginning to wonder if he was just a pawn in some inter-departmental dick-measuring contest. He didn’t get into law enforcement to meddle in office politics, but here he was trying to play nice with everybody like everyday was his first day at kindergarten.

‘Irons is a bully,’ Chris had told him on his third day on the force, ‘Treat him like a feral dog. Stay out of his way. Don’t make eye contact. And whatever you do, don’t let him follow you home.’

‘I can’t avoid him forever. He’s our boss.’

‘Wesker’s our boss,’ Chris had corrected him, ‘And he kowtows to Umbrella, not to Irons.’

Leon was painfully aware of the pecking order and he was grateful for it. If Irons had had the last word on the matter, Leon would never have been accepted into STARS in the first place.

The door to the office blew open. Chris Redfield and Forest Spayer tumbled in, as always, in mid-argument. Forest was Bravo team’s security expert and lead marksman. He was Chris’ closest confidant and equivalent, but Forest lived to prove himself his best friend’s superior in every way. Each time Forest made an arrest, he slapped an eagle-shaped decal onto the side of his desk. Chris did the same, though he favoured a wolf-symbol.

‘It’s an Air Force thing,’ Jill had explained, ‘Like pilots marking a tally of their confirmed kills on the side of their jets. Trust these two to turn it into something so fucking lame!’

But the stickers were the tip of a very deep, dangerous iceberg. Chris and Forest’s extra curricular competitions ranged from the spirited (rafting in the Circular River in the dead of winter) to the foolhardy (motorcycle racing through the suburbs at midnight) to the downright unhinged. Forest had been hospitalised for a week after he and Chris had held a Ghost Pepper-eating contest at Jack’s Bar. There was a framed photograph in their office, taken by Chris, of Forest making a double-thumbs up in his hospital bed with tubes coming out of his nose.

Chris had tried to recruit Leon in some of his and Forest’s escapades, but Leon valued his limbs and his intestinal tract too much to really commit. He’d already puked his body weight after trying Forest’s special home-brew, so he’d resigned himself to cheering from the sidelines. He felt like a loser every time, like he’d turned down the chance to sit at the cool kids’ table.

‘We’re throwing snowballs off the roof of the clock tower! You want in?’

‘Not tonight.’

‘Why? You got knitting club tonight, grandma?’

‘I have plans.’

‘What “plans”?’

‘Just... regular old plans.’

‘I can’t believe this! You’re blowing me off for regular old plans?’

‘Yeah. Plans that don’t involve getting arrested by the guys in the office next door.’

Chris had grinned like the Devil and thumped the adjoining wall with his fist, ‘Them? Those fuckers are coming with us! Jesus Effing Christ, Leon... Does your head ever get tired wearing that halo around all day? You could use a few bumps and scrapes. It’ll give you some character.’

Hearing that, Leon’s defences had gone up so fast they’d made his ears ring. He’d spent that evening stewing over his paperwork and kicking himself. Weeks later, he’d taken a long, hard look in the mirror and seen the truth staring back at him with terrified eyes; the eyes of a kid who’d been bounced between eight different foster homes before the age of twelve.

He was doing the bare minimum to fit in because, even after passing his twelve month probation, he was convinced all this would come crashing down around him. He expected the walls of his new life to topple over like the cheap set of a cheesy sci-fi serial if he even breathed too hard. Everything he had felt too real and not real enough all at once.

At least as the ‘innocent rookie’ on the team, Leon had a place, an identity, a role. It was minor, but it made him feel seen. Now he’d outgrown it and that part was about to be re-cast with the newest member of the team, Rebecca Chambers. She was an eighteen-year old college graduate with a chemistry degree. She was inexperienced, but she was smart, friendly and eager. She was due to start any day now.

Leon was already getting nervous. Chris was the best shot on the team. There wasn’t a building on the planet Jill couldn’t infiltrate. Barry Burton could handle every type of firearm invented since the nineteenth century. Brad Vickers was a nervous wreck, but he could make a chopper dance in mid-air like a prima ballerina without breaking a sweat. Joey Frost was a hot mess, but he kept their vehicles running smoother than whipped cream. And Richard was such a gifted comms technician, he’d been hacking police radios before he lost his first baby tooth.

But who the hell was Leon Scott Kennedy? He had half a college degree in social work, a respectable score at the shooting range and a handful of commendations already too old to matter anymore.

His team trusted him. After the jewellery store robbery and hostage situation a few months back, Leon knew for sure that he had their respect. But he didn’t know what kind of cop he was becoming. He was too afraid to pinpoint his strengths because what if he didn’t have any? What if, after all that work, he was still ordinary and replaceable; his ‘potential’ just smoke and mirrors? He was a good all-rounder and someone almost everybody got on with, but what if that was it?

It would make for a tepid obituary.

Leon teetered like he was standing on the edge of a great precipice. He could see the stars reflected in the water below. They streaked together to form words, a message: “jump!” He pictured his body dashed onto the rocks below.

Jill looked up from her desk as Chris hung up his leather jacket, ‘You’re lucky Wesker’s in a meeting. He catches you rolling in late again and he’s putting you on traffic duty.’

Chris threw his denim-clad butt onto the corner of Jill’s desk, making her pencils rattle in their holder, ‘No he won’t. He loves me!’

Forest made sloppy kissy noises as he staggered, hungover, to the coffee machine in the back.

‘He wants you taking point on the Atwood case,’ Jill told Chris as she playfully backhanded his hip until he vacated her desk.

‘Aw, come on. No! I thought Atwood was handled,’ Chris seethed, ‘It was a B and E where the perp grabbed some jewellery and an old laptop. Who the heck cares?’

‘Umbrella cares, so we have to,’ she retorted, ‘Atwood’s one of their top execs and that laptop had company data.’

‘It was probably just a junkie who didn’t know what he had and pawned it all the next day. Harry Atwood owns five homes and shits in a gold toilet. He can afford a new laptop and a new pearl necklace for his wife. I think we can say “case closed” with a clean conscience.’

‘You’ve got a funny idea of what constitutes a “closed case”. Where’d you learn to be a cop again?’

‘Same place as you, Valentine.’

She smiled serenely, ‘Please. Don’t remind me.’

‘Aye!’ Forest yowled from the back of the office like he’d just been mugged, ‘This coffee tastes like someone took a dump in my mug! Who made this?’

Barry poked his head out from the armoury, ‘Hey, dick head! I roasted those beans myself.’

‘What’d you roast them in? Cow shit?’

‘Guys!’ Kenneth Sullivan barked from his corner desk, gesticulating with the phone receiver he was covering with his free hand, ‘Is it too much to ask for five minutes of peace? Do I need to start taking calls in the bathroom like a cheating husband, just to get through a conversation without someone having a meltdown over something stupid in the background?’

Leon grinned behind his fingers as he propped his chin on his hand and watched them rile each other up. It had taken him weeks to get used to it; the good-natured bickering, the half-hearted complaints, the name-calling, and the bizarre one-upmanship that only seemed to bring them closer together like a family whose shared veins ran with a heady combination of caffeine and bravado.

‘It’s my turn to do a coffee run anyway,’ he volunteered with an exaggerated sigh.

His ass was barely out of his seat before he was hit with a tsunami of coffee orders. Leon smiled and nodded, not understanding a word as they yelled over each other. It didn’t matter. He knew each and every order by heart.

‘I don’t know how we ever got any work done before you showed up, rookie,’ Barry chuckled as he returned to the armoury.

Leon grabbed his jacket. He felt a tight feeling in his chest as he wandered past Chris’ desk.

‘Hey, uh... the Atwood file’s on Enrico’s desk,’ Leon said to him, ‘But I just ran it through the copier. It should be in the out-tray.’

Chris grunted and pretended to log into the RPD database for the third time. He didn’t even look at Leon.

‘So you’re not even going to make eye contact with me now, Chris? Is that it?’

Chris flexed his right hand, the bruises on his knuckles shinning blue under the light of his desk lamp.

Leon ground his teeth as his next words swelled in his throat. It took all his self-control not to erupt.

‘How much longer are we gonna do this?’ he hissed, ‘I said I was sorry!’

Chris was out of his chair as if the seat had caught fire. He stood tall, glowering at Leon like the headlights of an approaching car. He was playing chicken, daring Leon to jump out of the way.

Redfield was a rooster. He was used to being the leader of the pack, the others falling in line the moment he snapped his fingers or gave a show. But Leon was as gentle and stubborn as a river. He was the steady, constant drip-drip-drip of water than could level mountains if given enough time and Chris knew it.

Behind him, Leon was aware of Forest edging closer, readying himself to intervene between the two officers.

‘Chris, come on man,’ Forest muttered, his hand hovering over Chris’ arm.

Chris shrugged him off. He pushed away from his desk and thundered out of the office. He slammed the door so hard it bounced open again instead of staying closed.

‘Too fucking early for this shit...’ Jill muttered, combing her hands through her hair before going after him.

The room was uncharacteristically quiet for a long beat; it was so silent they could hear the clacking of keyboards in the office next door and the drone of a leaf blower in the courtyard outside. Then Forest inhaled and opened his yapper.

‘I mean...’ Forest whined, forcing the words through stiff lips, ‘I can... see why he’s... yuh know... pissed. You did sorta... make out with his little sister.’

Leon felt his cheeks turn cold like someone had dunked his head into a bucket of ice.

‘What?’ he choked, ‘Who told you that shit?’

Forest puckered his lips, ‘A little birdy named Joey Frost...’

Figures.

‘I didn’t make out with his sister!’

Okay, the thing is that wasn’t one hundred percent true. More like ninety percent on the outside. Lips had connected, sure. But Leon barely remembered the encounter. It had been a stupid mistake, but a costly one.

Besides, it was the confrontation that had happened afterwards that had truly poisoned the air between the two men. Words had been exchanged; ones so toxic that their friendship felt like something you couldn’t approach without a hazmat suit. Leon had apologised for his part in it, but Chris was still attempting to break the world record for giving someone the silent treatment.

Leon scowled at Chris’ empty desk, ‘It doesn’t matter what I say or how hard I grovel. He’s an asshole.’

Forest narrowed his amber eyes before extending his blistered hand and tipping it back and forth like a set of wobbling scales, ‘Ehh. Po-tay-toe, Po-tah-toe! You say “asshole”, I say... “conflicted”.’

‘Conflicted?’

‘I’ve known him since high school. If Chris admits that he over-reacted, he’d have to look into why he over-reacted. And that’s a Pandora’s box I don’t wanna be around when it pops, you get me?’

‘I didn’t want to be in the middle of this.’

‘This is why we stay outta the Redfield family drama,’ Barry cut in with a sympathetic tut, ‘They take other people down with ‘em. No survivors.’

Leon snorted but stayed silent, still not sure if he agreed with them or not. He thought he knew Chris, but this side of him was dark, sullen, resentful; a smudged shadow of the STARS maverick, the bold, confident and irrepressible face of their team.

Forest gave Leon the kind of vacant grin he always made when he was about to say something that had a fifty-fifty shot of pissing someone off, ‘Do you know what you’re problem is, Leon?’

‘Yeah,’ Leon shoved his arms into his jacket and felt around in his pockets for his wallet, ‘He’s got a big mouth and his name’s Joey.’

Forest jabbed the corner of his mouth with his tongue and chuckled, ‘Your problem, rookie, is that you can’t leave things well enough alone. You gotta try and save everyone from themselves. Let Chris be mad at you! Let him get you out of his system like a bad case of diarrhea. Because when he’s done shittin’ his pants, he’ll realise he’s only angry at himself.’

Leon nodded mutely as he slunk out of the office.

He was back at the precinct less than an hour later with an assortment of coffees and a tray of doughnuts; americanos for Kenneth and Barry (extra sugar packets for Barry), a caramel latte with whipped cream for Joey, a black tea with a dash of milk for Forest, cappuccino for Jill, and a cold brew for Chris.

The walk had done him some good, but when he’d arrived back at the office he’d found the mood as low as when he’d left. He knew the source: it was him. He was Ground Zero with legs, a walking reminder that their STARS family wasn’t as tight and happy as the group photo on the wall made them out to be.

Sitting at his desk with so many eyes on him, Leon writhed like an ant under a magnifying glass on a hot summer’s day.

He tried to rub the fatigue off his face. Jill had already left. She was gearing up for a quick recon of the hiking trails. She was taking Joey and Kenneth with her. An RPD pilot, Kevin Dooley, was dropping them off and providing air support.

‘Hey!’ Kenneth bopped Leon on the head with his case file as he strolled past the rookie’s desk, ‘Baking soda and white vinegar. Let it sit for an hour. Then wash on cold.’

‘What?’ Leon blinked up at him.

‘Your t-shirt, bro. The coffee stain. You just gotta be patient. That’s all.’

Leon pressed his palms together in gratitude, ‘Thanks. You’re a good man.’

Kenneth backed towards the door with an expression of baffled amusement, ‘Please! I’m the goddamn best there is!’

Before he’d made it to the exit, Leon sat up at his desk and called out to him.

‘Hey! Is there any room on that chopper?’ he asked, his eyes wide like he was getting ready to duck if the other man shot him down.

The sympathetic look that morphed Kenneth’s features told Leon that he’d heard the unspoken plea woven through the innocent question. The precinct had become stifling. Leon had to be out of here for longer than a few minutes. He needed wide open space. He needed fresh, uncomplicated air. He needed to get out of this office and out of his own head.

‘Grab your gear, kid,’ Kenneth grinned, ‘Wheels up in twenty.’

---

tbc when I actually finish this thing 💀 I think I'm barely halfway through.

In the meantime, you can always read the first fic in this series Pandora, featuring Umbrella scientist Ada Wong.

[lizzieisright]

Avengers!AU as I promised. It's rushed because the movie is fucking 2.5 hours long and I'm not rewriting the whole thing, because this is just for fun. I also didn't proofread it, sorry for mistakes/misspellings.

Cap!Abby x Black Widow!Reader if you squint really hard.

Also I gave the reader Natasha's last name (the proper one, not the weird one, sorry, it bothers me to this day).

So we start with Shield base getting attacked by Jinx (Loki) so she could take Tesseract and destroy the Earth because it's her sister's precious place. Sevika (Nick Fury) gets pissed off at the blue haired maniac of a girl and she loses Manny (Hawkeye) so she is furious.  

You (Black Widow) are somewhere in Russia, in the middle of interrogation, when Maria Hill calls to inform you that your buddy is now a baddie and you kick everyone's asses and immediately get on a new mission. You head off to India to persuade Caitlyn Kiramann (Hulk) to help Shield find Jinx and rescue Manny, promising it's only about her physics knowledge and not about the green giant woman she can turn into. 

At the same time Sevika makes it to Captain Anderson, to persuade Abby to help Shield. Abby, still not really adjusted, still so mad, agrees. (Now can you imagine that scene when Steve is beating the punching bag and you can see his back and ass and biceps? Imagine it with Abby). 

Now Maria Hill has the most insufferable person to recruit: Ellie Williams. The Iron Woman is not someone who'd want to work with Shield, she is not a team player and prone to anger, so Maria just wants to bash her head on the elevator door while she gets to her floor on the Williams tower. Thank God for Dina (Pepper) who can make Williams do anything, because Ellie takes the documents and starts working on it. (She is a little excited: she'd get to work with Caitlyn Kiramann! But she also sees Captain Anderson and rolls her eyes: she heard too much about her)

During the flight to the helicarrier Maria gives Abby her new uniform and Abby politely thanks her while inside she screams in agony: didn't Shield watch the war chronicles? Did they see that this atrocity with a fucking skirt was her performance costume? (I have personal vendetta against Cap's costume in this movie)  

The first person Abby meets on the helicarrier is you. 

"Agent Romanova. Captain Anderson." Maria introduces you to each other and you nod politely.

The deep winter in your eyes makes Abby feel understood. She doesn't know you, doesn't trust you, but she feels like you two have something in common. (It's a trauma and a sense of humour). Her cheerful naive side died in arctic ice, and what was left now found a familiar soul in you. 

"You really revived American patriotism." You chuckle and Abby chuckles too. "I didn't think miracles would still happen in our time, but here you are."

Abby wouldn't call it a miracle, so she stays silent. And then a tall woman stumbles into her, so Abby steadies her by her shoulders. Abby saw this face before: she watched the reports about Hulk. But this woman looks delicate and nervous, and the stark difference makes Abby stop for a second. 

"Doctor Kiramann." You say politely, but Abby hears a small laugh in your voice. It's indistinguishable, but Abby spent enough time around people who didn't laugh to know how it sounds.

"Agent Romanova." Dr Kiramann says with apprehension, like you're scaring her, and it definitely amuses you. "Captain Anderson, nice to meet you."

Abby smiles and shakes her dainty hand - not like the one that crushed buildings.

"The word says you're going to find the cube." 

"Yes. Is it the only thing?" Dr Kiramann asks nervously.

"The only thing I care about." Abby shrugs. It doesn't matter to her if Caitlyn can destroy all of them in a fit of rage - they need to anger her first, and Abby can't think what they will need to do for it. After all, she'll be in a lab. 

"Ladies, we need to move." You tell them and lead them inside while helicarrier gets in the air.

Caitlyn helps locate the cube and you and Abby go to Germany to stop Jinx. You thank God for years of training because when you see Abby in her old uniform it's so hard to not laugh. She looks uncomfortable and you pretend this is perfectly normal and mundane while you pilot the jet. 

"Shield didn't do their homework." You note offhandedly and Abby chuckles. 

"I hope this uniform is stronger than it looks. I usually didn't wear my costume to the battlefield." 

"I'm sure Hill made it bulletproof." Abby knows you're making fun of her and somehow this is the most pleasant conversation she had since she woke up. "Okay, she is there and she is doing some crazy shit." You point at Jinx as you get closer. "Good luck Cap." 

Abby salutes you with two fingers and jumps out of the quinjet while you get your cannons aimed at blue-haired disaster.

Seeing Abby fight Jinx is very satisfying, even if this tank of a woman is wearing a skirt. Actually - it's even better. Captain Anderson is in amazing form for 90 years old.

Hearing AC/DC in your headphones - not as good, you have to admit. 

"Agent Romanova, did you miss me?" You hear Williams' smirk and chuckle. The same annoying cocky clowness as always. 

Well, watching Iron Woman blast Jinx is also very satisfying. 

"Make your move, Smurfette." Ellie says and you snort. 

"Miss Williams." Abby politely nods while they watch Jinx surrender.

"Captain." Ellie decides Anderson is not as annoying as the stories about her. 

Jinx annoys the shit out of you, but she also worries you: she gave up too easily. Captain Anderson looks as suspicious as you are, and three of you have a private moment in the pit. 

"Something is not right."

"You mean that the Fairy with Turquoise Hair let you win? I mean, for a grandma you're pretty fit, but she could have knocked you out." Ellie looks Captain Anderson over and you know she is hitting on Abby. Abby, on the other hand, doesn't know it and just rolls her eyes. 

Then you hear the thunder and you get tense, while Jinx starts giggling. 

"What, you enjoy lightning so much?" Ellie smirks, but Abby is assessing the situation.

"Oh-ho-ho, you're in for a treat, girls." Jinx starts laughing and gets up just in time for the hatch to open and a pink haired woman to come in, grab Jinx by her collar and jump back out. 

"Yeah, no. I'm sitting this one out. " You know Vi, and you don't plan on fucking with her. But those two can try. 

"Williams, where are you going? We need a plan to attack." Abby feels rusty and she doesn't like improvisation, she likes to know who she is against. 

"I have a plan. Attack."

"Cocky motherfucker." You murmur and watch Abby grab a parachute. "Where are you going? They're gods."

"I don't believe in them, ma'am." Abby says and jumps out. 

For some reason your hand finds the cross on your neck. 

(I'm sorry I'm not rewriting the Thor and Loki scene) Vi chews Jinx out for lying and pretending to be dead and Jinx invites her to go fuck herself just before Ellie knocks Vi off. Jinx laughs and sits down, curious how this will play out. 

The three of them beef it out, but only when Vi hits Abby's shield with her hammer everything ends. Abby is tired and wants to fucking strangle Williams, but she resorts to making peace with a goddess. 

"We find the cube and you can take your sister back." 

The escort Jinx to the helicarrier and when she passes the lab where Caitlyn is working she winks at her and makes kissy lips, creeping Caitlyn out. 

Sevika is finally in a good mood as she tells Jinx what will happen to her if she tries to escape. Jinx nods like an A-student, pissing Sevika off. 

 "Ooh." Jinx laughs. "It burns you to come so close. To have the Tesseract, to have power, unlimited power. And for what? A warm light for all mankind to share, and then to be reminded what real power is."

"Well, you let me know if Real Power wants a magazine or something."

Jinx asks for cosmopolitan and a caramel macchiato.

"She is unhinged." Caitlyn says and moves away from the screen. 

"Have care how you speak. Jinx is beyond reason, but she is of Asgard, and she is my sister." Vi says and you look at her. Blissful idiot.

"She killed 80 people in two days." And took my fucking best friend, you think. 

"She is adopted."

"Why is she looking for Iridium?" Caitlyn asks Vi like this golden retriever of a goddess would know. Vi panics, but Ellie saves her. 

"It's a stabilising agent." Ellie looks at Vi in her muscled glory and you want to roll your eyes. "No hard feelings, warrior princess."

Why doesn't Vi hit Williams again is a mystery. 

Ellie and Caitlyn talk about physics and you want to ask for a raise, while Abby looks as confused as you feel. 

"It's good to meet you, Dr. Kiramann. Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled. And I'm a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster." 

Can Ellie Williams meet a woman and not flirt with her? 

"Thanks." Caitlyn even blushes a little. 

Ellie doesn't trust Fury and she is one of the smartest people on Earth, so after she innocently banters with Caitlyn while they work, she bickers with Abby and then she brings up her suspicions.

"You think Sevika is hiding something?" Abby asks.

"She is the spy. Her secrets have secrets."

"You don't find it weird they didn't ask Ellie to work on Tesseract when Williams tower has been running on clean energy for over a year now?"

Abby thinks, but doesn't say anything. 

You are sent to interrogate Jinx, and she looks so happy to see you. 

"You should read this article on skin care, agent Romanova. Would be of use."

"If it's about hyaluronic acid I don't need it." You say and Jinx closes her magazine.

"Soooo. What made you visit me? Wanna braid each other's hair and talk about boys?" Jinx looks as you stumble for words. "Or about the boy."

"Once you win, what will happen to Alvarez?"

"How sweet." Jinx cooes. "Your world is going to be destroyed and you bargain for your little boyfriend. True love." Jinx wipes non-existent tears. "You know what, sweets? Your honeybun is my plaything now. So when I win, and when everything on this pathetic little planet is destroyed, I will make Alvarez skin you and he will be conscious the whole time, and when he is done with you, I will make him cut his hands off for killing his boo. How about this?" Jinx smiles.

You swallow, pale from the horror.

"You're a monster." You say, terrified.

"No-no-no, sweetheart." Jinx eyes are dramatically big. "You brought the monster." 

You chuckle. 

"Oh, so Dr Kiramann is your target. Thank you for your cooperation." You nod and leave, leaving Jinx pissed. 

After that everything goes to hell. Everyone gets pissed at each other, Caitlyn hates your fucking guts for lying, Abby and Ellie almost go out to fight each other when the explosion hits. 

You fall down with still pissed off Dr Kiramann and she is not happy to see you. Her other side is not happy too, judging by her heavy breathing. 

"We're okay. Caitlyn, you're okay." 

She growls at you, and you notice you're stuck under a metal bar. You're stuck under a heavy piece of metal with Caitlyn who is halfway into Hulk territory. 

"I swear I'll get you out of here, whatever it takes." You tell her, but her voice is not hers anymore. 

"Whatever it takes?!" She growls and you get your leg out just in time, because Hulk hates you and she is definitely going to kill you. 

You run with all you have, screaming into your earpiece. 

"Can someone help me out here before Dr Kiramann tears me to fucking shreds?"

"I could take her." You hear Vi answering.

"Great, hurry the fuck up!"

Vi manages to knock Hulk out and give you time to escape, so you hide and try to put yourself together. At the same time Ellie and Abby who hated each other's guts a second ago, work together to restart the engine and not fall into the fucking ocean.

Ellie looks at the engine, but can't figure out what's wrong.

"Joel, run diagnostics." Ellie says and looks at the print of the engine when her assistant shows it to her with all damage on display. It doesn't look good. "I'll get inside and restart it manually." Ellie tells Abby. 

"It will shred you." Abby tells her and rip her skirt off in annoyance, only leaving tights on. 

"That's why you need to reverse it so I could slip out."

"And how do I do that?" 

"Red lever on the wall." Ellie goes inside the engine and starts pushing the rotor arms.

Abby stays by red level. 

Sevika is super not happy: her ship is getting destroyed and right now it's fucking Alvarez who is definitely going to free Jinx. 

"Does anybody copy?"

You swallow the terror and answer. 

"I copy."

If Manny needs his butt kicked he will get it kicked. 

Vi runs to detainer just to get into typical Jinx fog. She stumbles around, trying to find Jinx, hearing her giggles everywhere, but she hears a click and the fog disappears. Vi is in the container, and Jinx and smirking at her across the room.

"You Asgardians are supposed to be invincible. Who do you think will win? You or the beast?" Jinx jumps on the control panel and presses the button. "Boop."

"JINX!" Vi growls as she falls down. 

"Bye-bye sister!" Jinx spits and runs away. 

Abby is under attack, and she fights for her fucking life while Ellie is already saying goodbye to hers as she is simultaneously screaming at cap to PULL THE FUCKING LEVER ANDERSON JUST FUCKING DO IT

"Working on it." Abby says as she kicks the last enemy into the air.

But then she is in the air and she barely holds to some kind of wire while Williams is still screaming at her. Her suit is getting so damaged Ellie wants to cry and Joel is being so annoying by telling her the exact percent of damage. 

"I know man, stop upsetting me." Ellie says when she hits the floor with her chest again. "Cap, come on!!!"

Abby wants to tell her to shut the fuck up as she climbs the wire, but she needs to be quick so she saves time to pull the lever. As she pulls it, there is another gunfire, but Ellie flies in and knocks the man out. 

Jinx pissed everyone off. Everyone who is still on a helicarrier wants to get her head. While Manny is recovering from mind control, restrained, Abby comes to you and you notice that the skirt is gone. 

"Do you think there are any pants I could use?" Captain Anderson asks sheepishly. You assess Abby's size and go to Manny's closet to take a pair of blue cargo pants. 

"Sorry, don't have anything with stripes." 

Abby rolls her eyes playfully and leaves to change. 

"(Y/n)?" You turn around and Manny's eyes are clear. 

"Do I need to punch you again?"

"What did I do?"

"Not important. It wasn't you."

"I still did it." Manny chuckles. 

"Do you want to join our revenge party?" You ask as you let Manny out. "Cap will come here in a minute to ask us to go and fight that bitch."

"Cap as in Captain Abigail Anderson, as in fucking Captain America?"

"You can fangirl later. Yes."

Right on cue Abby appears in her new pants, her ridiculous helmet under her arm.

"She is going to take Williams tower. Are you in?"

"Maybe if I put an arrow through her eye I'd be able to sleep at night." Manny says grimly and you nod to Abby.

"In a minute."

Ellie is so pissed. This blue-haired nature mistake dared to put her portal shit on her tower. On the tower she built for Dina, the best woman in her life, and Jinx wants to parade her alien army from her porch! 

"That device has a shield, don't shoot it, kid." Joel tells Ellie and she rolls her eyes but listens. 

She lands her suit and walks to the bar to find Jinx watching her TV. She is watching The Simpsons. 

"Hello Marge, I'm home." Ellie imitates Homer as she searches for her bracelets. Jinx looks up to her, annoyed at the comparison.

"Oh, iron girl. What, you want to beg me too?"

"Actually I came to threaten you."

"Really? With what? Terrible jokes? I already have an old man to do it, what do I have to fear?"

"The Avengers." It makes Ellie cringe. "It's our little team of heroes."

"Yeah, I've met them." Jinx snorts. 

"Well, we needed some team-building, and you provided it." Ellie put one of the bracelets on. "But let's see. We have your sister, a literal goddess; a living legend who actually lives up to the legend (to my surprise); the kindest woman with breath-taking anger management issues; and a couple of assassins whose body count goes into the hundreds. And you, you've managed to piss off every single one of them." Ellie puts the second bracelet on. 

"I have an army, dum-dum."

"We have Hulk."

Jinx huffs in disbelief and slowly makes her way to Ellie. 

"Well, iron girl, I think your team will be a little busy fighting you to stop me."

Jinx taps Ellie's chest and they both are confused as nothing happens.

"It never happened before."

"That's what he said." Ellie snorts, but then Jinx grabs her by her throat, her chipped nails digging into her skin. "Joel, any time now."

"I will destroy you." Jinx hisses and throws Ellie out of the window. 

"Joel for fuck's sake!" Ellie screams as she falls, but the suit catches her signals and Ellie manages to not die. Again. 

Ellie stabilises herself and looks up to see a bunch of aliens coming out of the portal. 

"Right. Army." 

Manny flies close enough for all you comms to connect and Ellie leads you to a new set of enemies. You shoot all of them before Jinx blasts the jet engine and Manny has to make an emergency landing. 

You exit the jet and the first thing you see is a giant flying slug. You look at Manny and both of your heads have the same thought, and the thought is what the fuck. 

Manny notices people trapped and you both cover for Abby so she could run and give orders to police. You and Manny free the civilians and go back to shooting the alien assholes. 

It's weird, but it also isn't: they are enemies who just look strange, and their weapons are not complicated. You steal one and figure out how to shoot in a second, and these things don't have the bullets to run out, so you roll with it. 

By the time Abby comes back, Vi comes to you too and fries the rest of the assholes. You sigh in relief and put the stick down, listening to what Abby has to say, but just as she opens her mouth you hear a bicycle horn. 

Caitlyn is half-naked, drives the bicycle with one hand while her other holds what looks like a towel or a sheet. 

"I apologise, I had to take public transport." Caitlyn says and everyone stares at her for just a second, mainly focusing on long long naked legs.

Is everyone on this team gay? 

Well no, Manny is still straight. 

"I'm in need of some clothes." Caitlyn blushes and everyone rushes to find something until Ellie sends one of her small bots to Caitlyn. 

"It will stretch, big girl." You hear over the comms.

Caitlyn gets covered by some kind of material and she smiles at you, apologetic. 

"I'm so sorry."

"We could use some of that right now, actually." You tell her and Caitlyn nods, while she puts her long hair into a bun. 

“Dr Kiramann, it’s time to get really angry.” Captain Anderson says, still so delicately polite. Captain America is a sweetheart, and you feel your dead heart flutter.

"I have just enough repressed anger." Caitlyn turns towards the giant slug that Ellie leads to her. Caitlyn’s skin turns green as she grows bigger and bigger, and she becomes 8ft tall, her noodle arms grow muscles that put to shame Abby and Vi combined. It’s not Caitlyn anymore, it’s Hulk, and she is terrifying.

Hulk swings her fist and smashes the slug in the nose, making it flip on itself. You hear Vi gasp just before Abby jumps next to you and puts the shield over your head as pieces of meat fly everywhere. She holds you with her other arm, protecting you.

"Thanks Cap." 

"Ma'am." Abby nods.

By that time Ellie joins you, and all six of you are finally in one place.

"Call in, Captain." Ellie says.

Watching captain Anderson work is magical. Her fighting skills are impeccable, sure, but her immediate assessment of the situation and planning is just… it's nice to have someone so talented to be your leader. You don't argue, you just listen and do what Abby tells you to do. Ellie takes Manny and flies away, Vi flies away as well to fry the bastards as Abby put it, Hulk is just straight up having fun beating aliens up, and it leaves you with Abby.

Fighting alongside Abby is effortless. She is strong and big while you're agile and fast and you work as a team, looking out for each other and the best ways to attack. And while you're a killer, you aim to eliminate the threat, Abby is a protector to the bone and you catch her shielding you a few times. It's strange, but sweet - you’re not used to teamwork, to someone watching your back except Manny. The fighting is exhausting, it’s not your usual gig - you’ll have to hit the gym and not be an embarrassment like this - and you don’t see the end to it.

"You know we can't keep this up. We need to close that thing." You shout as you put more bullets into aliens.

"It has a shield on it." Ellie reiterates in your comms.

"Well maybe it's not about guns, Williams." You sigh. “I need a ride.” You look up at flying monsters. “And I just found it. I could use a boost though.”

Abby looks at you as you gain distance so you could run up, and gets into the position, angling her shield for you.

"You sure about it?"

"It would be fun." You shrug and run at Abby, and she boosts you into the air the moment your boot touches her shield. You catch on one of the aliens and fly to the tower.

Hulk is fighting alongside Vi and she is not happy about their previous quarrel, but Vi is very honourable and takes it in her own hands to make up with the beast. 

"It's my honour to be in battle with you, fair Hulk." Vi says and Hulk grins at her.

"Hulk likes." The green woman roars and they destroy a new slug together. 

"Williams, they sent the nuke." Sevika says and Ellie stops for a second, her little bombs still flying from her shoulders. 

"Are you fucking kidding me." 

At the same time you’ve found a way to stop Tesseract and you hold Jinx's sceptre, penetrating the shield around the cube.

“I’ll close it.” You shout into the comms, not really expecting anyone to protest, but Ellie stops you.

“Not until I get rid of the nuke.”   

Ellie catches the nuke and flies into the portal.

“Dina will kill you.” Joel tells her as he makes a call, but she is not answering.

“Not if I kill myself first.”

The last thing Ellie sees is the alien ship blowing up.

You close the portal when Ellie flies out of it, and all of you are relieved - she made it. Until Vi notices she is not stopping, and she swings her hammer to fly and catch her, but Hulk is faster - she climbs the building, makes a powerful jump and catches Ellie. 

It takes a very loud roar to wake her up.

“Did anyone kiss me?” You hear over the comms and roll her eyes. Everything is back to normal.

Manhattan is ruined, Williams’ tower is left with an a on it, and you all sit at the small cafe eating shawarma. You’re not a stranger to it, but the rest of the team are not as pleased as you are. Caitlyn is wrapped in Vi’s cape because even Ellie’s materials can’t handle Hulk yet, Ellie didn’t get out of her suit for this, Vi has a wound on her side, Manny looks half-dead from exhaustion, you lost your guns and Abby’s face is so dirty you want to clean her up like a toddler.

“Let’s never do this again.”

“Save the world or eat shawarma?”

"Both."

[lady-pug]

if we could wake up

Chapter I of Wouldn't It Be Nice

Summary: You sustain a head injury while on a mission but Whiskey isn’t fast enough to administer the alpha gel, so your memories of your time at Statesman don’t come back. Instead, you only remember up until the day before you were recruited and your memory ends up being reset every night. Jack makes it his mission to make you fall in love with him everyday (50 First Dates AU)

Pairing: Jack Daniels | Agent Whiskey x Reader

Word count: 1,1k

Warnings: major head injury (bullet to the head, but it's reversed using Statesman technology), memory loss

Notes: Hello dearest readers, it is I. I bring thee something that has been sitting among my WIPs for over two (I kid you not) whole years. I’ve had chapters one and two of this story completely ready stored in my files alongside all my other WIPs and simply never remembered to publish it FOR OVER TWO YEARS! Shame on me, wtf. Which makes me quite sad because it was one of my favorites to work on when I first came up with this idea. But anyways here it is.

I distinctly remember having come up with the idea for this after watching ‘50 First Dates’ four times in the same week (if it wasn’t clear by now this is my all time favorite rom-com) and thinking it fit right up with this cowboy right here.

I really hope you, dear reader, enjoy this story, and if you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated.

Reader is female, but no physical descriptions provided

Next part | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Bullets were flying, coming from everywhere. Whiskey could barely look over the cover he was hiding behind before someone was shooting at him.

“Ginger!” he screamed into the earpiece “Cider’s down!”

“What happened?” he heard the static voice of Agent Ginger Ale, or as her friends liked to call her, Elizabeth or Liz, over the comms.

“Dunno. Some goons are shooting at us. She just went down.” he ducked again after failing to locate his partner “Can’t even find her. Probably shot at.”

“Get to her immediately. If she got hit in the head you need to administer the alpha gel as soon as possible!”

“I’m trying here, Ging! Ain’t as easy with twenty guys aiming at your head.”

“Use one of those stunning bombs I made you.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to use those prototypes yet.”

“That’s all you got now!” he could tell Ginger was becoming agitated “Just do it, Jack!”

He did just that. Picking up one of the stunning bombs in his pocket he threw it as hard as he could towards the barricade. A loud, piercing sound erupted almost immediately, hurting his ears even from where he was. Poor goons, he thought. With his ears still ringing, he took off using his whip and lasso to take out the men one by one.

Once the place was clear and no other enemies could be detected, he ran towards the place he last saw you. Where you had gone down. He came to a halt, however, his heart dropping to his stomach when his eyes landed on your slumped form, a bullet hole on your temple and blood covering the ground.

“Shit, Ging! They blew her brains out.”

“Administer the gel, quick! It’s been way too long already.”

He fumbled with the equipment, almost dropping the roll of gel, before he quickly placed  it over your face, making sure to cover the wound.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m here. I’m going to take care of you. Ging is going to fix your pretty little head in no time, yeah?”

The gel inflated and seemed to be doing its job. 

“Ginger, the gel’s been administered. What now?”

“I’m sending a rescue team your way. Try keeping her head slightly elevated.” she said “And Jack? She’s going to be okay.”

Jack nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. He moved around and propped his back against a tree, his legs extended in front of him. As carefully as he could, he dragged your body, laying your head on his lap, running his fingers through your hair.

“You are going to be fine, sweetheart. I promise.”

The following hours were amongst the longest of his life. Jack would even go as far as to say it was almost as long as the hours he went without any news from his wife the day she had died. As soon as the plane landed on the tarmac, a gurney was ready to take you, rolling you to Ginger’s lab.

She wouldn’t allow him to go inside. The machine you were currently hooked onto had nanoparticles working on your brain to regenerate your neurons, astrocytes and neuroglia, or something sciency he couldn’t quite understand. He was in absolute agony not knowing how you were.  

Finally, after what seemed like weeks, Ginger finally walked out of the lab. He scrambled to his feet from where he was sitting slumped against the wall in front of the lab’s doors.

“How is she?” he blurted out.

“Stable. But the damage to her brain was extensive. And the alpha gel wasn’t administered within the correct window of time.”

“Shit, Liz- I- If I had gotten to her quicker…”

“Hey, hey Jack” she laid a hand on his shoulder “It’s not your fault. There were 23 men shooting at the both of you. Our entire elite squad couldn’t take them all out that quick. You did all you could.”

He sighed, only half believing her.

“What does that mean to her?”

It was Ginger’s turn to sigh.

“I don’t know yet. I’ll only be able to assess the real extent of the damage once she wakes up.”

His shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Why don’t you take a shower, maybe try taking a nap? I’ll wake you up if anything changes.”

He nodded, actually wanting desperately to clean up now that Ginger mentioned it, but already knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink until he knew you were safe. 

Jack walked slowly back towards his quarters, almost dragging his feet into the shower. The water seemed to sooth his aches, but not his worries. He couldn’t get the image of your form, suddenly dropping lifeless, out of his head. Everytime he closed his eyes that scene replayed in the back of his eyelids like some sick, twisted film.

He couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t lose another person he- shit, did he love you? You have been partners for years now, always had each other's backs. You were one of the few people he truly trusted, someone he felt comfortable enough to open up and be vulnerable. To be himself. Recently, he’s started feeling something more than just the friendship you’ve nourished for the past years. He felt the urge to protect you, even though he knew for a fact you could look after yourself. He wanted to kiss you goodnight and wake up next to you the following morning. So did he love you? 

Yeah. Yeah, he did. He knew that now. And he couldn’t lose you.

Laying on his bed, his hair was still wet from the shower when Ginger pinged him. He was out of bed and halfway across the base in the blink of an eye. He couldn’t remember running that fast in years. Bursting through the door of the lab, he found you sitting on one of the pristine white beds, Ginger in front of you holding a clipboard.

“Sweetheart…”

Both you and Ginger looked at him with wide eyes. Ginger walked around your bed in his direction.

“Whiskey, wait-” but he didn’t listen.

“Sweetheart, thank all things sacred, you’re okay!” 

He rushed forward, wrapping his arms around you in the tightest embrace you two had ever shared. He pulled back, hardly noticing the way you stiffened in his embrace, cupping your cheeks so he could look into your eyes.

“Jack-” he faintly registered Ginger’s voice behind him, but he didn’t truly care. All he cared about was that you were safe. That is until you opened your mouth to talk.

“I’m sorry,” you smiled politely at him “but who are you?”

[schrijverr]

I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 7

Chapter 7 out of 50

Secret marriage of convenience buddie slow burn AU, where Buck and Eddie have been married for years so Buck could adopt Chris and no one at the 118 knows.

In this chapter, Bobby observes the new probie, curious about this kid as he starts acting out and tossing his career down the drain with stunts like stealing a fire engine or refusing the teen mom access to the ambulance. Meanwhile, Buck and Eddie are both trying to find the new balance of how much they should let go and how much they can still hold on.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (slowburn)

Warnings: insecurity, child endangerment (baby in the pipe call)

~~~

Chapter 7: The Curious Case of the New Recruit

When Bobby offers Evan Buckley a job, he doesn’t think the other will take it. He’s done his training in Texas, broke records there, but not everyone wants to relocate halfway across the country when there are perfectly good jobs nearby. However, Bobby offers anyway, because they can use someone like him on the team. Someone who is younger than the core team they have, still reckless, someone to push them out of their habits and comfort zones.

However, now Buck is here and he’s not entirely what Bobby expected. Sure, he’s hardworking and competent as his paperwork says, also quite impulsive and more than willing to do the crazy rescues, but he has a maturity Bobby didn’t expect and can’t place.

Bobby has observed Buck to be a strange contradiction in a way.

It starts in the first week, Buck has watched Bobby cook a few family meals, when he approaches him while he’s cooking. “Can I help? I’m not an amazing cook, but I know some things and I’d like to get better.”

“You can cook?” Chimney asks skeptically where he is hanging around at the kitchen island, probably hoping to snatch up some snacks as Bobby cooks.

“Yeah, only one in the house that can,” Buck grins as he gives a fond head shake, whoever his roommates are, he doesn’t seem to mind that they don’t contribute to the chore.

Bobby figures that building a good report in the kitchen will be helpful to getting Buck to listen out there, so he happily instates him as sous chef, pleased when it seems he wasn’t lying and is capable of basics such as cutting without it becoming a medical emergency and watching the pans.

The cooking indeed seems to help in Buck listening to him out on the field. It’s a good way to integrate him into the team too, because despite his sociable nature, Buck doesn’t make an extended effort to become a part of the team outside of their job.

Bobby hasn’t realized this, since he tries not to engage with the team outside of the firehouse either, until he hears Chimney say: “He’s doing it again. He always says no or starts tapping on his phone before saying yes. It’s like we’re his second choice and he doesn’t want to come to team bonding drinks.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Chim,” Hen replies with an eye roll.

“Buck doesn’t go out drinking with you two?” he finds himself asking, worried for a moment that Buck might also be in recovery, but too awkward to say, and if he should reach out.

“He does, just says no often enough too and he always has to check before he says yes,” Hen shrugs. “I figure he’s checking if they don’t have a party planned he’d rather go to.”

“Or he has to see if his hook up of the evening is worth it in comparison to us,” Chim grouches. “He probably has enough of them lined up that he can be picky about it, the lucky bastard. You see how they throw themselves at him on calls.”

“But he’s not worrying when you do go out?” Bobby prods.

Hen gives him an understanding look, then shakes her head: “Nah, he drinks a couple of beers, but enough water too. He’s always capable of driving home safely. He drinks pretty responsibly for someone who probably only just tumbled out of party culture and seemingly still lives in a frat house.”

Bobby is glad to hear that and lets it go for now, not wanting to open up himself without it being necessary. Still, he keeps an eye out for worrying behavior, but other than him being too eager to attempt risky rescues and feats of daring, the only thing that is slightly worrying is the amount of flirting he does while on the job.

It hasn’t bled into unprofessional yet, but Buck is teetering on the edge and Bobby is waiting on the moment he steps over and he’ll have to reprimand Buck about it. He wishes the kid would keep it in his pants until he’s off the clock, it’s not as if he has a lot to do then.

Of course, Bobby can’t know that Buck does have a lot to do off the clock.

With Eddie being on the mend and Abuela and Pepa helping, parenting has become easier, but Buck is still part of pick up duty, groceries, chores and family time. He usually doesn’t have to worry too much about it when the others go out drinking because Hen is also on a family schedule, but he likes to make sure Eddie is okay for the night alone with Chris on the days he does want to go out with his team, which isn’t always, since he still loves getting to spend his Diaz boys.

However, Buck has been weaning himself off living that domestic life with Eddie. It’s also the reason he hasn’t mentioned either him or Chris at work, because even if they’re married, he knows it isn’t actually like that. It’s not permanent and being in LA has only solidified that for him.

Eddie is working on regaining his strength, soon he’ll be good enough to apply to the fire academy too, having decided it’s a good sounding job from Buck’s stories and something he actually has transferrable skills for. And he’ll do great. He’ll be a firefighter in no time and Buck knows that Eddie can support Chris from the income, since he himself is doing that right now.

It’s only a matter of time before Buck isn’t necessary as a co-parent anymore. Out here, Eddie can actually meet people he’d want to marry for real and then he’ll divorce Buck and he’ll be just the best friend who babysits sometimes.

Hence the flirting.

Which he does on the job.

It’s stupid to try and preemptively fill the void with flirting, but getting that attention makes him feel better, makes him feel like he could have a life after Eddie – even though he’ll never be able to move on from Eddie – so he basks in it.

But he keeps it on the job, doesn’t take it home. Doesn’t want to miss the time he still has with Eddie and Chris, doesn’t want Eddie to see, just in case, so Buck will always be available to him, should he suddenly fall madly in love with him and want to declare that. Like he said, stupid.

And he keeps checking if Eddie is okay when he is asked to go out with his team, hoping that Eddie will say that he needs him home. Wants him home…

What Buck doesn’t know, is that Eddie has been letting him go, saying yes to him staying out as much as he can. Because he feels guilty, so guilty about keeping Buck there. He can picture him going out, flourishing as a young person in a big city, doing his own thing and not being responsible for a child for a bit.

Eddie wants to hold on, likes the life they have together, but he can’t, because Buck deserves to be a young adult for a bit, to stick around until Eddie can do it on his own and then be free of the harsh truth of being a teen parent, even out of teenagehood.

He doesn’t understand why it’s so hard to let Buck go. Buck was just an easy solution after Shannon left, but he’s made himself at home with Eddie. He has a hard time being around people in general, but being around Buck is so easy. Raising Chris with him is so easy. He wants to keep that, keep Buck, but he knows he can’t keep Buck there either. Not when he deserves so much better than Eddie can give him.

So, he enjoys all the time they do have together, the lazy nights on the couch, the days in the park with Chris, the grocery runs and the chaotic mornings. And when those are over, he lets him go. He lets him go out with the friends he has from work, the work he enjoys doing, even if he started out, because he needed to support Eddie and Chris. He’s not thinking about it. He’s not.

Just like Buck isn’t thinking about how easily Eddie lets him go, more and more as time passes and it goes better and better with him. He’s not thinking about how time is running out. He’s not.

Buck is just maybe also spiraling a little and for him that looks like more and more flirting and a new dating app on his phone. He’s never had the healthiest relationship with sex. And now he’s doing something even more stupid. Stealing a firetruck to have sex on the job kind of stupid.

He knows it’s stupid as he does it and he knows it’s stupid when he comes back, but he’s always been a fake it to you make it kind of guy and these people assume he’s some frat dude, might as well live up to expectations. Buck has always tried to live up everyone’s expectations. Always fucked up too. Bitterly thinks that this is not that out of character for him, being Chris’s papi fits less with his track record than this.

Bobby just thinks he has figured Buck out, when he goes and does this. He knows Buck as someone who cares about his job, maybe a bit more about the thrills than the people they save, but he takes it seriously, even if he can be a little unprofessional when flirted with. To have Buck, who cares so much disregard the job like this is weird and it sets Bobby’s teeth on edge.

And looking at Buck now, shrugging: “Come on, Bobby. See the fire, put out the fire. The rest is blah-blah.” Bobby doesn’t recognize the kid he’s come to know.

He knows that Chimney is correct that he goes easy on Buck, but he can’t help it. Sure, Buck can be a cocky little shit, but not like this. It’s out of character and Bobby feels like he should extend him some grace. Plus, there is just something about Buck that makes Bobby want to help him, especially when this feels more like a cry for help than anything else.

Bobby can’t just reach out and offer help, he is too unworthy to form the connections necessary to do so, but he can go easy on him, can continue to not give up on him. So that’s what he does.

The call they’re on, makes him question if he made the right call. It’s like Buck is a different person as they learn what happened and his compassion for the mom goes flying out the window. Bobby knows calls with kids can be rough and Buck hasn’t been on many yet. Sees in his face that he does not like it one bit that a baby is in harm’s way.

But they’ve been on calls where Buck has been compassionate to people who got others hurt, however, that is gone when he yells: “Is that the mother? No, screw her. Look what she did.”

“She’s a child,” Athena screams back.

“Doesn’t matter, you don’t abandon your kid. You fight for them and you stay. You don’t just leave them, no matter how old you are when you have them,” Buck snarls back, before Bobby can interrupt and force Buck to take the mom too, because he is practically refusing.

In the ambulance he watches Buck with the baby, how much he cares about the little one and how wary he is about letting the mom near the baby. But also how he lets her hold the baby’s hand when she reaches out. It’s as if he wants to protect the baby, but also wants the mother to want the infant.

It strikes Bobby that it may very well be that Buck is taking this call very personally. The words he yelled at Athena stick with him and he wonders if Buck is the kid of a teen mom himself, if he was abandoned and that’s why he is taking this so hard.

Then Bobby realizes he has never heard Buck talk about his parents, or his home life at all. For how open he is about almost everything, he is actually quite the closed book. A mystery. It only adds to his worry about what might be going on with Buck. Because even if that would his explain his behavior on this call, it doesn’t explain the behavior before that.

Again he should be reprimanding Buck, but he can’t bring himself to, he feels too much compassion for the kid. Athena, however, has no such qualms, getting out of her cruiser and storming across the parking lot to confront Buck. “Hey! You do not get to decide who lives and dies.”

“Really?” Buck shoots back, looking cocky, something that is both in character and out of place here. It feels like a mask. “Cause I was under the impression that kind of was my job.”

“That mother was no less of a child than her baby. You’re gonna get someone killed,” Athena tells him.

“She was going to get that baby killed. She had no right to just leave a baby, she could have died in that pipe. You get a kid, you step up,” Buck replies, cockiness falling to reveal anger.

It looks wrong on his face, mentally Bobby adds another point for Buck coming from a teen mom home himself, as he looks at the stranger reflected on the familiar face of their probie.

“That’s not your decision to make,” Athena says, righteous anger in the face of Buck’s attitude.

“Sometimes it is and I know what call I’ll make if it comes to that,” Buck replies, not getting out of her face, but defiantly jutting out his chin.

“And you’ll screw up then, like you nearly screwed up today,” Athena informs him bluntly. “And next time you do that, it’ll be your last.” With that said, she stalks off, clearly done with them, Bobby can’t blame her.

He shares a look with Hen, who is as perturbed by the situation as he is. Buck doesn’t seem to think anything is wrong with how he reacted, despite endangering a young girls life. It’s clear that he thinks he’s right when he says: “What?” when he sees them looking.

There are a hundred things Bobby wants to say, but none of them come out. Buck still looks like that stranger instead of their Buck and Bobby wants to believe that this is a one off that he just needs help and a kind hand. So he just says: “Get in the truck,” ignoring Hen’s judgmental eyebrows about it.

Two days later he truly regrets giving Buck a soft hand. He’d hoped that it would work better with him, seeing how well he does with gentle encouragements in the kitchen, but that clearly hasn’t worked. The teen mom should have been his strike two and stealing the firetruck again to have sex, that is strike three. Buck should be out. Buck is out.

Bobby can’t keep being kind, he has to make the hard choice, has to be fair. He should have said more when Buck flirted with the snake lady, he should have never let it get this far in the first place. He can’t keep covering for Buck’s behavior.

“You’re fired,” he tells him, watching how Buck’s face drops.

“What?” he chokes, voice high pitched. “Wait, that’s not fair. You said I got three strikes.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bobby has decided on his course of action and he is going to stick with it, no more exceptions for Buck even if he looks like a kicked puppy. “You’ve made this choice yourself, and you rubbed it in my face. The same exact infraction two days after I wrote you up. You’re out of line and you’re not taking this job seriously. So you’re out.”

Bobby starts to walk away and Buck feels like he can’t breathe, he’s felt like that since Bobby first told him he was fired, since the baby in the pipe.

He has been spiraling since before that of course, but that call got to him. A kid being abandoned by their mom… He could so easily see Chris in the place of that baby, unwanted by mom. Chris has already been through so much and Buck’s chest feels tight, because at some point he’s going to have to abandon Chris too. He doesn’t want to, but Eddie will divorce him and he’ll go from papi to uncle Buck if he’s lucky and that terrifies him.

So, he spiraled more, internalized it all until he needed something to try and dull the ache. He tried hanging out with his Diaz boys, but that just made him more aware of the count down, the finite time he has left. Which left this as his other coping mechanism.

He is aware that he’s been self destructing, but his self destruction was never – never – supposed to touch Chris and Eddie. Never. And now it has. Buck has fucked it up, screwed up again and now he is going to fuck up Chris’s life early, even though he never meant to do so all.

Before now, he has not felt fear like this and he feels like crying as he pleads: “Wait, Bobby! Bobby, I- I need this job. Please, don’t do this to me. I have people that rely on me and my income, I- I really need this job. At least until the end of my probie year.”

Bobby looks back and Buck looks absolutely devastated. He is again reminded of a kicked puppy and he wants to help Buck, he does. However, he needs to keep his resolve. He can’t keep giving Buck a free pass. Besides, what or who could he possibly be funding?

So, he shakes his head firmly: “No, I don’t care that you can’t fund your little frat house parties anymore, you can find another job. You can disrespect yourself like this, but but you are done disrespecting our firehouse and this fire department.”

“That’s not what I’m funding,” Buck frowns, he looks hurt, though resigned, Bobby vaguely wonders what that is about. “I got a-”

“No,” he cuts him off, “I don’t wanna hear it. I said you’re done.”

And with that he walks away. He drives back in the car he came in, leaving Buck to take down the ladder and drive the engine back to the firehouse. As Buck is doing that, he retreats into his office, not wanting to give the young man a chance to talk him out of it. This is his decision, he should stay firm on it. Though he can’t find it within himself to start on the firing paperwork. Not yet.

He refrains from going out there to watch Buck get changed and pack his stuff, not wanting the other to get a chance to change his mind. Still, he is almost grateful for the call that comes in, giving him a chance to interrupt Hen and Buck talking, wanting to check up on him in some way.

Buck looks defeated. It looks wrong on him. Bobby wants to fix that and that scares him, he has kept to himself for years now. He doesn’t like that he feels responsible for Buck, wants him to do well. Bobby isn’t meant to be alive, to be connected. And he is becoming connected to Buck, feels paternal over him. Cares for him in a way he doesn’t about the other firefighters under his command.

So, he tells himself he made the right call in letting Buck go. He can’t help Buck, it’s not his job and Buck is endangering the people he is supposed to be saving. The ones that will make it right.

Still, he can’t help but ask Hen what their talk was about. Hen shrugs, looking thoughtful. “He really needs his job, says he has people to support.”

“Yeah, right,” Chimney snorts. “Supplying booze isn’t supporting people.”

“I don’t know, he looked serious,” Hen frowns. “He asked how long he’ll keep his insurance, then if he could tell me something.”

Bobby remembers Buck on that roof, saying people depended on him, he’d made the same assumption Chimney did, but now he worries if he was wrong. If there is something more, something to explain his behavior both recently and the maturity he could show that seemed out of place in the rest of his frat boy persona.

He is burning with curiosity about what Buck might have wanted to tell her. But he’ll likely never find out, Buck will be gone when they get back from this call. Life will resume as normal. It’s for the best that way.

Yet, when Hen tells him what she’s done, the second chance she has given Buck on Bobby’s behalf, he can’t help but be grateful.

And he is even more grateful when Athena calls, giving props to Buck for his work. If the woman who was yelling at him two days ago can have a change of heart about him, Bobby has a case to keep Buck there. Then he can justify it to himself.

However, he needs to know Buck has grown from the experience, that he won’t shoot in that cocky, the Devil may care attitude to cover himself. So he doesn’t say a thing and just stands there, watching Buck climb out of the engine.

“I know what this looks like,” Buck tells him. Good, he is aware that what he did is wrong and willing to explain his behavior. Two pluses for Buck.

“Looks like you took the engine out in your street clothes.”

“I didn’t exactly have time to change,” Buck sulks, looking as if he expects to be reprimanded without getting a chance to explain himself. Again.

Bobby feels a stab of guilt and he tries to make up for it by saying: “Sargent Athena Grant called me, wanted to tell me what an asset you are. Told her she was half right.”

“You’re giving me another chance?” Buck asks and he looks so hopeful, so relieved that Bobby can’t help but feel he made the right call. Though the relief niggles something in his brain.

“You’ve used up all your chances,” he still says, watching Buck stiffen, before he adds: “But so have I. Because I have somehow failed to communicate to you how lucky we are to do what we do.”

It makes the most sense to Bobby. Buck is young, this is his first big job, he might not be as aware of what it takes to keep a job and what a responsibility it is. He is sociable and nice enough, but saving people likely isn’t as much of a priority as the thrilling stunts they do to rescue people. He likely only just got comfortable enough here to pull something like this and the fact that it coincided with that baby call is nothing more than a coincidence. But he’s learned from it now.

“You’re wrong,” Buck surprises him. “I absolutely do know what a privilege it is to serve here and I am sorry for not showing that. I love my job and I don’t want to jeopardize it. Ever. I take it very seriously and I will continue to do so.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bobby says, but he knows it’s fond, so he doesn’t look back. “Your shift is not over yet. Go get dressed.”

Then he walks away. Behind him, he hears Buck ask Hen: “Do you think he put in the paperwork yet and I need to be rehired, because that could mess with admin stuff, right?”

“Don’t ask me, only Cap knows that, but I don’t think he filed it yet if he managed to fill it all out,” Hen answers. “By the way, what did you want to tell me, before we got called away?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter anymore now, just wanted to make my case, so you could make it to Bobby, but guess I did that for myself,” Buck replies, cockiness back, but in the usual playful manner of his.

Hen clearly believes him, playfully threatening: “Shove off, probie. You’re still on thin ice.”

However, Bobby isn’t sure if that is the whole truth, the words from the roof and what Hen said in the engine are still ringing in his head, but he doesn’t have any evidence to back it up. Plus, he has no definitive reason to think so with what he has seen in the kid.

Still, it plays on his mind as the two disappear from his hearing range and it rears its head once more when Buck comes into his office a little later, looking a little shy, which is unusual for him. “I, uhm- I wanted to check if you officially fired me or just said it and never got around to it?” Quickly he assures: “Either way I am so happy to have my job back, I just wanted to know if it’ll impact anything, like, uhm- like my insurance?”

As he did to Hen, he is mentioning insurance again. “It won’t affect anything, I never got around to doing the paperwork and I’m not doing the extra work to make a point when you already learned your lesson,” Bobby tells him kindly. To satiate his own curiosity, he adds: “Is there a specific reason you’re asking?”

“Oh, uh, no, Cap,” Buck smiles and Bobby knows he’s lying.

“You can trust me with anything, you know that, right?” Bobby pushes.

Now the smile becomes real and Buck nods: “I know. It’s- it’s private, but it doesn’t effect me in the field. Just want to be on top of everything, you know. Be an adult.”

Bobby wants to push more, get a proper answer, but he has his own skeletons in the closet, he won’t go digging for those of someone else when it doesn’t impact their work. Buck might have a sickly grandma, who raised him or something, that is a dependent. Someone he doesn’t actively care for, but supports financially.

That night, Buck goes home, still shaking a little. Eddie is on the couch, still awake despite it being a god awful hour since his meds make him sleepy so his whole rhythm is thrown off. He smiles when he sees Buck, then frowns when he collapses on the couch next to him, burrowing his face in the couch cushions.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks, sounding a little worried as he prods Buck.

He can never know how Buck almost screwed up. How he almost put them in financial trouble and fucked up their insurance; the exact same thing that forced Eddie to sign up for the army. He can’t let Eddie find out that he’s an irresponsible idiot. Can’t give Eddie a reason to kick him to the curb early.

So, he murmurs: “Long day. Rough,” hoping the muffling of the couch pillow will hide the way he lies.

Eddie’s hand appears on his leg, startling him slightly, before he relaxes into the comforting squeeze. The action fills Buck with both fondness and guilt. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Nah,” Buck says, because Eddie will know if he comes up with something. He does free his face from the cushion and rearranges himself on the couch so that he can watch the telenovella Eddie has on.

“Alright, but you can if you want to,” Eddie offers.

Buck’s heart feels just about ready to burst. “Thanks,” he smiles, selfishly allowing himself to bask in this feeling, ignoring how he nearly screwed it all up and how some day he is going to lose it. He is not going to risk anything like that again. He’ll deal differently.

[guardian-of-fandoms]

So was nobody gonna tell me about the theory that Cody is Onyx Prime Reincarnated

MY MIND IS BLOWN

Like it's absolutely insane but IT ALSO EXPLAINS A TON AND I CAN'T REALLY ARGUE-

Like I love Cody, he's an ADORABLE bean, and probably one of the best human characters in the franchise. he's just a sweet lil bean who genuinely wanted to befriend Cybertronians and managed to single handedly be the ENTIRE reason the team got their act together at all, the ONLY reason Heatwave gave humans a chance, and not only did Heatwave give him a chance, HE BASICALLY FUCKING ADOPTED THE KID.

But EVERYONE I have ever seen is C O N F U S E D as to why. WHY is this Kid gifted with Godly empathy and communication skills that stump and get grown adults and LITERAL ALIENS to change their entire frame of mind, going from ready to fucking throw hands to talking civilly in a matter of seconds!!!! KIDS DON'T DO THAT. CODY IS ONLY EIGHT. YEARS. OLD. AT THE BEGINNING OF THE SHOW, 14 BY SEASON 4, AND PROBABLY 16-17 BY RBA.

.... So here's why I love this theory.

IT. EXPLAINS. THINGS.

(after days of obsessive Onyx Prime research)

-Oynx Prime's main abilities were his communication skills/Empathy, something that would probably carry over in Reincarnation. In fact, I've seen TONS of people theorize that Onyx was Reincarnated as Cody for the purpose of guiding the rescue bots, who would ultimately go on to change the course of Human/Cybertronian relations as a whole!

In fact, Cody has connected with Cybertronians SO WELL, Whirl casually dropped in an episode of RBA that sometimes, THE RECRUITS F O R G E T THAT CODY ISN'T CYBERTRONIAN.

THEY FREAKING FORGET THAT HE'S A HUMAN

.... What if Cody happens to fit in so well with Cybertronians.... Because he has a Spark?????

-Onyx Prime has massive wings. Cody is CONSTANTLY associated with Flight across the show. He wears a Bomber Jacket, uses a hoverboard, briefly used those rocket shoe things, and constantly rides along with Blades and Dani.

-Onyx Prime's Alt-Mode is a Griffin. Not only does the show constantly address the mythology of Griffins (and TFP says Predacons were actually responsible for Earth's mythological creatures in the first place), but the show LITERALLY TAKES PLACE ON AN ISLAND CALLED "Griffin Rock"

Lastly, I'm not sure if this counts,

But one thing about Cody has bugged me literally the entire show. Legit, as long as I've loved rescue bots, this has bugged me.

Cody's blonde hair.

i know this sounds stupid, but... THE KID'S HAIR MAKES NO SENSE.

Charlie has been show to have had brown hair when he was younger. Dani and Kade are both bright redheads, Graham is kinda a reddish brown.

if Charlie had brown hair, then than implies that the mom was a redhead, right???

So where's the Blonde come from????

I'm not claiming to be an expert in either Genetics, Reincarnation, or Onyx Prime.

But.......

This is the only answer I have, so, I'M ROLLING WITH IT

Cody Burns, human with a Spark!