#since we have plenty of helicopters

[heyitsburtburt]

I was curious: are Rupert Price/Prince and Charles/Chester still in your space jail? Have you talked to Charster at all?

I've been talking to Charles a lot lately. Mostly him teasing me about my not-crush on Dave and such... I don't think he understand how I uh... feel... about him... I mean he's cute but... yeah...

As for Robert, I don't think he's gonna crack just yet, but apparently the chief's been talking to him a lot lately. It's very rare for him to go down and talk to the prisoners, so I'm wondering what the fuss is about.

But yeah, I think Charles is pretty much ready to be a Toppat. He seemed pretty tired of the government as it was. Going on about some injury and some other stuff that I didn't really pay attention to. I just hope he doesn't join me in comms.

That's the last thing I need.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 2 - Adjustments

Summary: You're struggling a bit in your adjustment to your new life, and you're finding some of them are easier to get along with than others. Luckily you're not in it alone.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Author's Note: I'm so just overwhelmed with the attention this fic has gotten, but not in a bad way I promise! I'm just surprised is all. Thank you everyone that has read and reblogged and commented. I love all of you and so, since I have no self control, here is Chapter 2. Lots more world building and dialogue in this part, but I promise good stuff is coming.

Also I promise Soap will get his time soon. He's just the hardest for me to write, and you'll see why in this chapter.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“She was lying.” 

Price doesn’t bother looking up as a dark figure leans against the wall next to him. He stares out at the empty space between the barracks and the mess hall, not much traffic between the buildings during this time of day. 

“About how she got to the institute.” 

“Or at least not telling the whole truth.” Price says, turning to look at Simon. “Something tells me she’d talk if we asked.” 

“She’s soft.” Simon says, letting his gaze drift off into the distance. 

“She’s a civilian.” Price counters. “The CIA did a little training, but she’ll need some work. We can’t leave her completely defenseless...” 

Simon turns to face him again. “There’s something else.” 

Price pushes himself off the wall, heading back inside. Simon follows, the two of them making their way down the hall to his office. “There’s hundreds of American military bases across the world, thousands of regiments they could have chosen from, and yet, they sent her to us.” 

Simon closes the door behind him as Price sinks into his desk chair. “You think it was deliberate?” 

Price pulls open one of the drawers, pulling out the file Kate had given him. “Laswell said the CIA has had eyes on her for years.” He slides it across his desk to Simon. “There’s a lot of why's in this situation, and a lot of how’s. Like, if what she’s saying is true, how did a Staff Sergeant get his daughter into FIOT practically overnight?” 

Simon glances up at him over the top of the file. “You think there’s something else going on with this Initiative.” 

Price nods. “I do. I think there’s more than one experiment being run, and we’re the guinea pigs.” 

You stare at your reflection in the mirror as you run a comb through your damp hair. You look tired, the dark circles that have plagued your face for the last few weeks looking even darker now. It’s been a long day, so long it’s hard to believe it’s only been a matter of hours since you boarded the helicopter in London. 

Your new pack had made themselves scarce after dinner, leaving you to your own devices. You had been left alone after lunch too, and you had spent that time laying in bed, resting after the overwhelming scenting. 

You’d played back the last few hours in your mind. Leaving London in the helicopter, meeting your new Pack Alpha, Laswell leaving, meeting your new pack, the scenting. You had plenty to think about, to stress over, and you had been surprised when the knock came at your door for dinner. You were equally surprised to see Gaz and Soap waiting for you. 

You’d been sandwiched between them again as you walked to the mess. It was busier for dinner, and the eyes weren’t quite so quick to look away with the alphas missing. You know they have to be curious, with an omega on base following around two members of a SpecOps team, smelling like them. You know what they were probably thinking of you, what they were thinking your presence means. 

You’ve begun to understand Price’s rules a bit more. 

Price and Ghost had joined you as Soap said they would, coming in late from whatever they had been busy doing. You had been seated next to Soap, Ghost taking his other side while Price sat next to Gaz. It hadn’t gone unnoticed to you how close Soap and Ghost sat, and you remembered the look in Ghost’s eyes when Soap had approached to scent you. How his defensive stare had turned icy, threatening even, when he’d gotten close to you as if you were capable of hurting Soap. It had been a silent warning. If you tried anything, you’d have him to contend with. 

Ghost is territorial, more so than most alphas. You had seen it just a bit in Price, but only because you had been watching for it. Ghost was silent in his claim, but his gaze spoke of his territorialism. As you sat at the table with them, you slowly felt the stares lessen, the curious alphas and betas around you slowly turning away from your table until you were left in peace. You knew it was all thanks to a well-pointed glare from the second alpha at the table. 

They’d escorted you back to the barracks before disappearing again, leaving you alone. You’d opted for a shower to try and clear your head, exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs but your mind was racing too much to really get any rest. You haven’t been told what their normal schedules entail or even what they look like, but you expect an early morning tomorrow. Since Price had said at least one of them needed to escort you around base, that likely meant you were going to be constrained to their schedules. 

You know even when they’re not away, their days are probably full of training and briefings, much like yours had been for three months. They’re probably up early, earlier than you’d like to be, and then they go non-stop all day. 

You wonder if they ever get a break. 

Maybe this is a break for them. 

You sit on the edge of the bed after you finish your routine, eyeing the pillows and blankets stacked at the end. They’re military issue, not as soft or as plush as you might have preferred. This is your new normal, though. Comfort isn’t exactly going to be a high priority. 

Tears prick your eyes as you run your hand over the comforter. You know it’s the exhaustion, the stress of the day beginning to weigh on you. You’re worn out, and that’s causing a slip in the tight reins you keep on your mood. Omegas and alphas were both prone to being moody, and those who were unrestrained could lose control quickly. Alphas were quick to anger, while omegas could get depressed very easily. Exhaustion drives both to being grumpy, though alphas will descend into irritability and anger, while omegas will get whiny and weepy. 

You hate it, how easily you can be driven to cry. How easily you can lose control. It makes you feel weak and helpless, but that’s partially by design. It was supposed to be your pack’s job to fix that, to give you that support and take care of you. 

Except you don’t know your pack. 

What would they do if you approached them like this, all teary and needy? Would instinct take over and snap them into their roles? Or would they give you an awkward pat on the back and leave you to take care of yourself? Gaz would help you, you think. He had slipped into that role so easily during the scenting. Your fingers twitch on the bedspread, your mind telling you to seek him out, track him down, even if it’s only to catch a whiff of his scent again.  

Your phone screen lights up where it’s sitting on the nightstand, drawing your attention from the door. Kate had given you the phone just this morning before you left the hotel. It had her number on it, as well as your pack’s. You’d half expected to find messages already from them when you’d turned it on, but there had been none. They had kept that boundary of meeting in person first. 

You pick up the phone, checking the message. It’s from Price. 

Breakfast is at 0700. I’ll take you to see the Omega Specialist after. 

Seven o’clock. It’s not terribly early. You’d eaten around the same time at the institute. You’ll get to meet the Omega Specialist as well tomorrow. You’ve met plenty of them in your time as an omega, but something about the idea of having someone there who knows, who understands is comforting to you. 

You send a reply in acknowledgement for tomorrow’s plan before setting an alarm for tomorrow morning. There’s an uneasy feeling under your skin, a tickling in the back of your mind that you can’t seem to relax. Your eyes are drawn to the desk where the shirts still sit, and before you know it you’re moving to the desk, letting your fingers trail over each one. 

You grab Price’s shirt, taking it back to your bed. You curl up with your back facing the door, holding the shirt against your chest, letting the scent of tobacco smoke and whiskey fill your nose. Silent tears slide down your cheeks, your face pressing into the pillow to muffle your sobs. 

As you try to muffle your tears, you miss the sound of boots pausing in front of your door, the person on the other side standing there for a moment before continuing down the hall. 

You let out a groan as your alarm pulls you from sleep. You had drifted in and out for a few hours before finally managing to get a couple precious hours of sleep. You’d woken when the others got up. You knew they were trying to be quiet but you had heard them shuffling around, talking quietly amongst each other. You’re normally a fairly deep sleeper, but in a new place you always struggle. 

A new place surrounded by almost complete strangers. 

You turn off your alarm, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. They’re burning a bit, the exhaustion still weighing heavy on your shoulders. You pad to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face to try and make yourself at least look more alive than you feel. The last thing you need is them getting worried about you. That’s attention you’re not sure you want right now. 

You blink sleepily at your closet, trying to decide what to wear. Were you allowed to wear anything? You didn’t have much besides the basics, since the only thing you had been allowed to wear at the institute was its uniform and the clothes they provided. Then when you were with the CIA, they had provided clothes for you to wear as well. The things you have now had been bought by Kate before you left D.C. 

Everyone on base wore similar variants of the same uniform. You’re not military, though, so you don’t think those rules apply to you. No one had said anything about your state of dress yesterday. You opt for comfort, knowing you’d likely find out soon if you were going to be forced to dress differently too. 

You’re tying your shoes when the knock sounds on your door. You had heard the others moving around, footsteps in the hallway, opening and closing doors, quiet voices talking and Soap laughing at something. You know it’s one of them, yet the nervous tickle at the back of your head is back. 

Soap is leaning casually against your doorframe when you open the door. His face lights up in a smile as he sees you. “Morning, bonny. Sleep alright?” 

“Yeah.” You shrug. “Tossed and turned for a while.” 

“We didne keep ye up did we?” He asks, his smile faltering just a bit. 

You shake your head. “No, I never sleep well the first few nights in a new place.” 

“Well, our beds are always open if ye need something more comfortable.” He winks at you playfully. 

Your face warms at his words, the double meaning not lost on you. You were right, Soap was going to be the one to push your boundaries the most. 

Gaz elbows him in the ribs as he passes. “She’s been here a day, mate, don’t go scaring her off now.” He leans on the other side of your doorframe, giving you a smile. “Morning.” 

“Morning.” You say, your face still warm from Soap’s teasing. 

“You hungry?” Gaz asks. 

You nod. You do feel hungry this morning, likely a side effect from your emotional night last night. You step out of your room, the two betas stepping back to give you space as you close the door behind you. Ghost is leaning against the wall next to his door, his eyes watching with the typical cautious disinterest that seemed to be his default setting. 

Gaz and Soap sandwich you between them again, close enough their arms brush yours as you walk. It was almost as if they could sense your inner turmoil, the neediness still tugging at the back of your mind. If Ghost hadn’t been trailing the three of you, you might have been tempted to give in and grip their sleeves, or slip your hands into theirs. How would Ghost respond to such a bold move? The mental image of your body flying through the air as he punted you into next week almost makes you laugh. 

Price is already seated at a table frowning at his phone over a cup of coffee. Gaz and Soap load up your tray for you, something you’re getting used to rather quickly. It was expected from the alphas, or at least Price, to coddle you a bit, but it seemed the betas were more than happy to get in on it as well. 

The thought makes something flutter in your chest. 

You’re seated between Gaz and Price again once you reach the table, Price greeting you with a tired smile. “Morning. Sleep alright?” 

“Not really.” You say honestly. “New place and all. I’ll settle in eventually.” 

“Maybe the Omega Specialist can give you some ideas to help.” He glances at his watch before looking at you as you spoon a heaping spoonful of porridge into your mouth. “Take your time. We have until 8.” 

You listen to the conversation at the table as you eat, Gaz and Soap talking about a football game that’s on tonight. You feel eyes on you, your skin prickling a bit. You glance up, half expecting Ghost to be glowering at you again, but his gaze is focused on his eggs. You cast a quick glance around the mess, turning slightly to look behind you. 

Three tables over, you find the gaze of some soldier focused on you. You haven’t paid much attention to anyone else on the base, but then again you haven’t had much time or reason to yet. You can’t read the expression on his face as he stares at you, but you feel a shiver run down your spine as your eyes meet his. 

He stares at you for a few seconds before his gaze moves slightly past you, quickly dropping back to his plate. You turn around, finding Ghost staring just past your head. His eyes are narrowed, his scent coming off stronger than it had been. You can practically see his hackles raised, the warning clear in the air. You feel the urge to curl in on yourself, the threatening aura radiating from him makes you want to cower. 

It doesn't go unnoticed by those at the table either. 

“Easy, Ghost.” Price says calmly, Gaz turning to follow his line of sight. 

“Bloody wanker.” Ghost grumbles before rising from the table. 

You turn back around, but the soldier that had been staring at you is gone. 

You nervously pick at your sweatshirt sleeves as you sit in the plastic chair next to Price. You’re still on edge a bit from what happened at breakfast. It wasn’t so much being stared at that bothered you. After now three meals in the mess, you’ve almost come to expect it. It’s Ghost’s reaction that has your mind still reeling. 

“I’ve always hated the medical center.” Price says with a sigh as he leans his head back against the wall. “It smells too sterile. Makes my nose burn. Reminds me of too many close calls.” 

His words jar you a bit. You hadn’t even thought about that aspect of his job. He’s used to getting shot at, to getting into fights, running head first into danger that would send most running the other way. You wonder how many times he’s been the one with the close call, and how many others he’s had to watch have their own. 

You wonder how many times he’s had to make that trip to tell someone’s family. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts as the door across from you opens. Price pushes himself to his feet, and you follow as a kind looking woman steps out. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief. You don’t have anything against male Omega Specialists, but you were already surrounded by men. Sure you have Kate, but she’s half a world away. 

She’s tall, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Despite being a doctor she’s dressed casually, no white coat or gloves to be seen. Her eyes are light green and crease in the corners when she smiles. 

“Hello, I’m Dr. Keller.” She introduces herself, shaking Price’s hand. 

American. You think, silently breathing another sigh of relief. Kate really had pulled some strings with this one. 

“Captain John Price.” He says. 

You introduce yourself when she turns to you, shaking your hand. Her voice is soft and gentle, the scent of beta coming off her in waves. 

“Come on in,” She says, leading you into the office. “Sit anywhere you like. Make yourselves comfortable.” 

Her office isn’t what you expected either. Instead of the harsh fluorescents, the lighting is softer, warmer. There’s paintings and posters all over the walls, along with several plants. There’s a desk covered in books and paperwork in one corner and a bookshelf with several books packed into it in the other. There’s a couch on one wall, and a couple plush looking chairs on the other. 

You move to one of the chairs, sinking down onto it. It envelops you in softness, and you feel as if you might sink into it and never be able to get out. After a day of hard plastic and stiff blankets, it nearly makes you weep. 

Price takes the chair next to you, Dr. Keller sitting on the couch across from you. The office smells good, a light, neutral scent in the air aside from the pure almondy scent of beta. 

“Alright,” She says, holding a tablet and a stack of files in her lap. “I always like to start by introducing myself and telling you a bit about me, then we’ll get into the important stuff.” 

She jumps into telling you about herself. Where she grew up: California. Where she studied: UC Berkeley. What institute she did her residency at: West Coast Training Academy. Where she worked last before Kate called her in: some poor inner city institute in LA. 

“Now, on to the more important stuff.” She says, turning on the tablet. “I got your medical records yesterday. You’re quite the healthy girl.” 

“Yes ma'am. I have good genes. That’s what my mom used to say.” You respond. 

Dr. Keller smiles. “Hardly even been sick. Your heats are all normal, too, correct?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” You say. “Except for a three month stretch two years ago.” 

“Yes, the heat sickness epidemic that hit America.” She says. 

You nod. “FIOT locked down completely and everyone was supposed to quarantine, but I heard a rumor that it was one of the beta food workers. She snuck out to see her alpha boyfriend and brought it in with her. We only think it was her because she disappeared not long after the first omega got sick.” 

Dr. Keller hums. “I know not everyone was so willing to take it seriously. You made a full recovery, though. No lasting side effects, I’m sure thanks to the state of the art medical facilities that FIOT keeps.” 

“Yes, ma’am. We were lucky it was just a mild case.” 

“That is lucky.” She flips through something on the tablet. “Your lab results all look phenomenal. I like to do checkups monthly, just to ensure everything is working as it should. I know the CIA gave you quite the cocktail of vaccines while you were with them.” She turns her gaze to Price. “Captain Price, I’ve sent in a request for your team’s vaccination records as well. I’m sure you’ve had everything under the sun, but I’d like to ensure there’s no risk of any accidental exposures.” 

“I don’t see a problem with that.” Price says. “If RAMC gives you any trouble, just let me know. I’ll get them for you myself.” 

“Thank you, Captain.” She says. “One last bit in this part and then we can move on. I see FIOT issued an implant before you left, as is standard practice.” 

You nod. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good. You’ve had more than enough time for it to take effect so we won’t have to worry about any accidental slip ups during your next heat.” 

Your cheeks warm at her words a bit. You’ve been trying to avoid thinking about that inevitable side of things. 

“And your next heat is roughly six weeks away.” She says, looking at the calendar. “Don't be surprised if it comes a little earlier now that you’re being exposed to alphas again.” 

Your stomach twists nervously at that thought. It was common for heats to be triggered early after exposure to alphas, especially after such a prolonged period without exposure to them. It wasn’t likely to start tomorrow, but you knew it could jump a week or two due to the natural pheromones alphas put off, and the instinctual call for the alpha/omega bond. 

“You’re planning for the claiming to take place during the heat?” Dr. Keller asks. 

“Yes, that’s the plan.” Price says. 

“That is the most natural time for it.” Dr. Keller says. “Of course, it is always up to omega preference in the end.” 

You don’t miss the way her eyes dart to you for a second. 

“Now that that’s over with,” She says, putting the tablet to the side. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to do this next part with just the two of us.” 

A beat of silence passes before you realize she’s asking you. Her eyes are on you, and so are Price’s. She’s asking you. She’s asking you what you want. 

“I-I guess...yeah.” You stutter over your words, not quite sure how to answer. Is there a wrong answer? Would Price be upset if you said yes? Would Dr. Keller be upset if you said no? Your eyes turn to Price, trying to gauge his reaction. 

“It’s up to you.” He says softly. “We’re here for you.” 

You sit up a little straighter at his words, nodding your head. “Y-Yes. That’s okay.” 

Price pushes himself to stand up. “I’ll be right outside.” 

The air inside the room seems to lighten as he leaves, Dr. Keller reclining back on the couch as the door clicks shut. She pulls out a stack of papers and a pen before she looks at you. Your palms are sweating, and you’re starting to think you’d like the chair to swallow you whole. 

“This next part can feel a bit personal, but I just want you to know that everything you say in here is as confidential as you’d like it to be. Captain Price is right. I am an Omega Specialist, I’m here for you. I’m not just a doctor, I’m here to help you in all aspects of being an omega. I know FIOT teaches a lot, mainly obedience and compliance. I want to make it clear that you can be honest with me.” She holds up the stack of papers. “No one is going to see these papers but me, alright?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” You nod. 

“You don’t have to be so formal with me.” She smiles. “You can call me Dr. Keller, or Doc. You could even call me an evil bitch if you want, it won’t phase me any.” 

You can’t help the small smile that forms on your face. 

“I’ve got some questions I’d like to ask you. They’re a sort of tracker to measure how well you’re settling in and bonding with your new pack. I’d like to meet once a week until your next heat just to see how well you’re settling in. After that we can meet as often as you’d like. Sound good?” 

You nod in approval. It sounds like a lot, but you also know you’re going to have a lot of downtime, even with your pack on base. 

“Alright, let’s get started. How are you settling in? I know it’s barely been a day, but I want to know how you feel here.” 

Your heart begins to pound in your chest. How do you feel here? How do you feel after being pulled from the institute and taken to a training facility where you found out you’d be moving halfway across the world to be a military pack’s omega. 

This wasn’t what you had expected when you reached the age where you became an available omega. Most omegas at FIOT came from rich, powerful, important families and your purpose there was to be groomed into the perfect omega to return right back to that world. 

You thought you would be chosen quickly. You had expected it. With your scores and your high ratings and your status, you were what most alphas dreamed of. Yet, the years had passed and though there was some interest, nothing had ever come of it. You weren’t alone in it. There were others like you, those who excelled at being an omega, but then seemed to stall in the selection once they came of age. 

Of course, now that you look back on it, you can’t help but think it might have been done on purpose. The Omega Initiative was new, you had been told during your first briefing explaining why you were taken to a remote building somewhere outside of D.C. and greeted not by your new pack, but swathes of CIA agents. Military packs were nothing new, but they wanted to utilize the naturally formed packs and make them stronger and more stable by adding in omegas. 

Only highly skilled omegas were considered for the program, but of course you had no say in whether you were going to partake or not. They chose the omegas and they decided where you would end up. 

It wasn’t that dissimilar from being chosen from an Institute. At FIOT there was a screening process packs had to go through to be determined eligible to have access to omega files. Then the pack would have to send a neutral emissary, usually a beta, to meet the omegas in person and choose on behalf of the alpha. Most institutes don’t have that strenuous of a process, and some don’t have a process at all. In some, alphas themselves could walk in and choose an omega without even so much as a background check. 

Omegas never got a say. As soon as you were handed over to an institute, the ability to choose was taken from you. Whoever your caretakers were as a pup signed over their rights to you and the institute became your legal guardian. They dictated your life up until you joined a new pack. 

You had hoped it would be someone rich. If nothing else, you’d get to live a cushy life and you’d never have to worry about anything. When they told you what was really going to happen to you, you had almost cried. You did cry, late at night curled up in your bunk after hours of training and briefings. 

Kate picked you for this pack specifically because she knew them and she knew you could handle them and their world. 

Maybe if you had been worse at being an omega, things would have been better for you. 

Or maybe they would have been worse. 

“It’s...different.” You finally say, picking at your sleeves again. “But in a lot of ways, it’s similar to The Institute. It always takes me time to settle somewhere new.” 

“Me too.” Dr. Keller says, writing some things down. “And with the time change, it’s just so much harder. I feel like I should be in bed right now, but it’s 8 AM. Have you started nesting?” 

You shake your head. “No. I don’t even feel the urge to.” 

“That’s fine.” She says, writing something else down. “In truth, I’d be more concerned if you were.” 

Your eyebrows raise a bit. “Why?” 

“During an adjustment period for an omega, especially in a new pack, there can be something that happens called false instincts. The sudden urge to nest, a drive to bond with pack members too soon, false heats. It’s usually brought on by a sudden change in environment, like when omegas are taken from a place where they’ve spent sometimes years with no exposure to alphas and are suddenly thrown into a space with a lot of alphas. It’s more common in larger packs where you have alphas, betas, and other omegas.” 

“Could it happen in smaller packs?” You ask. 

“It’s possible, though rare. It can cause some serious issues down the line when those instincts are actually supposed to begin to show up, like adjustment sickness. I’d say if you’re starting to feel the urge to nest or bond before the first week is up, then come talk to me, alright?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” You nod. 

She smiles, turning the page. “How far have you gotten with the bonding process?” 

“Just the scenting yesterday.” You answer. 

“And how did that go?” 

You pick at the loose thread on your sweatshirt. “Fine. It was...overwhelming.” 

“They can be.” Dr. Keller says. “The new members of your pack, how are you getting along with them?” 

“Fine, I guess.” You shrug. “I like Soap and Gaz. Price, he’s...he’s nice, and Ghost...” You trail off, not sure how to answer. If she’d asked before breakfast you might have said he doesn't like you. He doesn’t want you to be part of his pack, but after what happened at breakfast...

You can’t be sure he did it for you. He could have thought that soldier was staring at Soap or Gaz or even Price. He could have thought the soldier was staring at him and was annoyed with it. He had scared off the stares at every meal you’d eaten together, but how often did they get stared at? You couldn’t know if that was a daily occurrence and he was just growing sick of it. 

He could be annoyed with you because you’re drawing in the stares. 

“I don’t know what to think about him yet.” You answer. 

She writes something else down, going through a few more questions with you. How is your appetite? How are you sleeping? Are you taking care of your needs? Do you have any concerns? 

Before you know it the hour has passed and you’re walking out the door into the fluorescent, sterile hallway of the medical center. 

“Remember, you have my number. If you need anything, I’m here for you.” Dr. Keller says as you part ways. 

You walk with Price out of the medical center, glad to be out in the fresh air. It’s not particularly warm, and the sun is hidden behind a layer of clouds, but it’s better than the medical center. 

“What do you think?” Price asks as you follow him back to the barracks. 

“I think it went well.” You say, mind still reeling from an eventful morning. You’re beginning to feel your restless night. 

“Do you like Dr. Keller?” He asks, probing a bit. 

You nod. “Yes, sir. She’s nice.” 

“Good.” He says, opening the door to the barracks for you. “I have to leave to oversee training for the next few hours.” He glances at his watch. “One of us will come get you for lunch.” 

You nod. Of course you’d find yourself alone again between meals. You’re beginning to notice a pattern. “Yes, sir.” 

His hand is warm as it settles on your shoulder, squeezing gently. You’re surprised by the touch, as small as it is. Were they too fighting the urge to get close to you, like you had this morning? 

You can still feel the warmth of his hand even after it’s disappeared and he’s gone. You head for the rec room, deciding to avoid the constricting feeling of being shut in your room for the time being. 

The TV is on when you enter, but the room is empty, playing some morning talk show. You move to the bookshelf against the wall, letting your eyes scan the titles. There's a surprising lack of military-based books shoved into the packed shelf. Of course there's a handful of old manuals and handbooks, nothing that you're particularly concerned about needing to read. You let out a sigh, standing on your toes to reach a Brandon Sanderson novel. 

You look around the room but the remote for the TV seems to be missing, and it’s too high on the wall for you to reach the power button, so you leave it on, curling up on one corner of the couch as you begin to read. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed when something moves in your peripheral. The sun has come out briefly, shining in through the windows. You look up from the book, suddenly feeling very small under Ghost’s gaze. His eyes are narrowed as he stares down at you, a thousand things flashing through your mind. Are you in his spot? Is this his book? Had he come to the rec room hoping to be alone and here you are infringing in his space? 

“Come on.” He says, his voice rougher than it had been this morning. “Lunch.” 

He’s already turned and heading out the door as you scramble up, leaving the book on the coffee table as you hurry to catch up to him. His steps are quick and wide, and you find yourself having to almost speedwalk to keep up with him. 

Your thoughts are jumbled as you follow him out of the barracks and off towards the mess. Why would they send him to get you? Was he the only one available? Yesterday they had time before lunch to return to the barracks, or had that only been because of you? Or were they perhaps hoping this might offer a chance for the two of you to bond a bit? 

Or were they entirely blind to Ghost’s disinterest in your existence? 

Perhaps they were used to it. After so long together, perhaps they just thought it was normal. If you were brave enough to bring it up, would you get a “oh that’s just how he is” in response? 

You can’t see the others as you enter the mess, Ghost leading you to the line. He stands behind you like a hulking shadow, his scent covered by the smell of gunpowder and sweat. You fill your own tray for the first time, grabbing things that look appetizing. You’ll have to get used to it eventually, even though the others insisted on doing it for the time being. When they’re not here, you’ll have to do it yourself. 

Ghost leads you to an empty table, and you opt to sit across from him. You begin to eat, taking big bites to avoid the need for conversation, not that you really thought Ghost would strike up a conversation with you. Your eyes flicker around the room nervously, glancing over the entrances time and time again, waiting for the others to arrive. 

“Stop twitching. They’re on their way.” 

The words cut straight through you and you snap your head around to face Ghost. He’s got his mask pulled up to his nose, your eyes immediately drawn to the exposed pale skin. There’s light stubble on his chin. You remember how that had felt on your own skin when he’d scented you. He’s blonde, you think, or at least has light hair judging by the color of the stubble. There’s a scar on his chin, almost hidden by the stubble. 

Your face warms as you realize you’ve been caught in your nervous fretting. Of course, you should have known he would take notice. There’s not a lot they don’t notice, you think. Though, when your survival depends on noticing even the smallest detail of anything or anyone...

You jump as a tray is set down next to yours, your eyes snapping up to see Gaz with a smile on his face. You turn back to look at Ghost, his mask pulled back down but you see a slight shake to his shoulders for a second.

Was he...laughing at you? 

Your attention is drawn from him as Gaz takes a seat next to you, sitting close enough his arm is almost brushing yours. Price and Soap taking their usual spots as well. You’re beginning to pick up on the patterns that existed around them, and their own patterns. Perhaps that will make it easier for you to fit yourself into their lives. You knew from the start they weren’t going to change to fit you into their lives. They couldn’t. You were going to have to find a way to fit into their lives. 

Gaz walks you back to the barracks after lunch, abnormally quiet as he watches you warily. He walks you to your door, leaning on the doorframe as you step inside. 

“You alright?” He asks, big brown eyes shining with worry as he looks you over. 

“Yeah.” You nod, shifting on your feet. “Just tired. I think I might take a nap.” 

He nods, and you’re sure he doesn't quite believe you, but he doesn’t press any. “Alright. Happy napping.” 

You close the door as he leaves, sinking down onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. It’s been a long day and it’s only lunch. Between the probing questions from Dr. Keller and the few minutes you had spent alone with Ghost you feel exhausted. It was good to know you weren’t entirely broken in your lack of nesting instincts, and perhaps your turmoil with belonging in this place wasn’t quite as abnormal as you thought. 

What to do about Ghost.

He’s said more words to you today than he did in the entirety of the previous day. In fact, you think today might be the first time he’s spoken to you at all. You know he doesn’t approve of you, and you’d go so far as to say he doesn’t like you. You can imagine he fought the hardest against you being added to the pack. They were fine without you. It didn’t take a genius to see that. 

You’re an outsider. A civilian. A risk. 

An unneeded disruption to their lives. 

You pull your phone out of your pocket, staring at the dark screen. You know Ghost might never accept you. He won’t want to claim you, he won’t mate you, but...perhaps you might just get him to tolerate you. 

You unlock your phone, sending a quick text to Kate. 

“Can you get a book for me?”

You regret your decision momentarily as you step into the rec room. Gaz and Soap are lounged on the couch, beer bottles open on the coffee table. The TV is playing ads, their attention on each other. You almost feel as if you’re infringing upon a private moment as they laugh, half tempted to race back to your room and hide until your hunger draws you out or someone breaks down the door to get to you. 

“Hey!” Gaz’s face lights up when he sees you, Soap turning to look at you.

“Hey, bonny!” His face lights up with a smile. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” You ask, shifting nervously on your feet. 

“Not at all.” Gaz says, patting the empty spot on the couch next to him. “You want a beer?” 

You shake your head. “No thank you. Never could get past the taste.” 

Soap throws his head back as he laughs, slapping Gaz’s shoulder. “I keep tellin’ ye!” 

“Yet you keep drinking it!” Gaz attempts to defend himself. 

“Cause it’s th’ only thing we got!” Soap argues, leaning around Gaz to stare at you. “So, ye a football fan, bonny?” 

“Well, I watched the World Cup a couple times as a kid.” You say. “My household was more of an American football and baseball household. Two of my older brothers played soccer, though they never were very serious about it. Mostly just did it to fulfill my dad’s physical activity extracurricular requirement.” 

“What did you do to fulfill that requirement?” Gaz asks as he takes a sip of his beer. 

“Softball. I was...not good at it.” You laugh. “I could catch and throw, but I don’t think I hit the ball a single time I was at bat.” 

Both of them chuckle, turning back to the TV as the ad ends. “Don’t worry, we’ll turn you into a proper football fan yet.” Gaz says. 

You watch the game with them, and it doesn’t take you long to realize they’re rooting for opposing teams. They explain things to you here and there in between yelling at the TV and each other. Despite how loud they are, you find yourself relaxing further and further, the tension from the last two days easing away, even as the two betas yell at each other over a soccer game. 

Gaz tenses for a second as he feels a sudden weight on his shoulder. He turns his head slightly, noticing you’ve fallen asleep, your head drooping onto his shoulder. His lips quirk up in a smile as he gently nudges Soap. 

“Wha?” Soap asks, turning to look at him. 

He jerks his head to the side, leaning back just slightly so Soap can see. A grin breaks out on the younger man’s face and he pulls out his phone. “Aww, look a’ that. Think we should wake ‘er and get ‘er tae bed?” 

“Nah.” Gaz says. “Let her sleep for now. She probably needs it.” 

You sleep soundly through overtime, Gaz not moving until the post game is over, letting you sleep as long as possible. He knows you have to be tired, after the last few days and the time difference. You looked tired today, with dark circles and droopy eyes. He hates to wake you, but he knows you can’t sleep on the couch. 

He nudges you gently, trying to rouse you. “Hey.” He nudges you again, your head finally lifting off his shoulder. 

You blink sleepily, rubbing at your eyes. You make a quiet sound in protest of being awake, eyes drooping closed again. 

“Come on, love.” He says, keeping you upright. “It’s time for bed.” 

You cover your yawn with your hand, blinking at him sleepily. “Bed?” You murmur sleepily, Gaz smiling softly at how adorable you are in this state. 

“Yeah, you’ll be more comfortable in bed.” He pushes himself to stand, hands on your arms to pull you up. 

You make another sound in protest, nearly falling against his chest when he gets you on your feet. He wraps an arm around you, letting you lean on him as he guides you back to bed, Soap cleaning up the mess they had made. 

You’re more awake once you get to your door, blinking up at him with bleary eyes. “‘S fun.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes. “Should do that more often.” 

“You’re always welcome to join us.” He says. “Get some rest. You’ve had a long week.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Night, love.” 

He waits until your door is closed before heading back down the hallway towards the rec room, a small smile on his face. 

NEXT ->

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[rememberwren]

A Girl (Not Mine) || 1

Ghost is a little obsessed with Soap and a lot obsessed with Soap's girlfriend--you.

About this: ghoap/fem!reader, suspension of disbelief regarding anything military related is actually necessary for enjoyment, canon-typical trauma for Simon, intrusive thoughts, slut shaming, voyeurism, fingering, accidentally seeing nudes not meant for you, poor writing unless you squint, try squinting. 4k

-

“I’m so glad I got a girl to think of, 

Even though she isn’t mine.”

-

The first time Johnny mentions you, the 141 is fresh from a month-long leave.

Ghost has a love-hate relationship with time spent off duty. He’d like to enjoy it—to do fuck all, to hike through Clayton Vale twice in a day if it suits him, to drink tea for every meal. But all leave does is remind him of the glaring emptiness in his life, the one he usually fills with violence. So he spent the month climbing up the walls and crawling out of his skin, waiting to be called back like a dog brought to heel. 

Here was his comeuppance for craving something to fucking do instead of relaxing the way Price had told him to do. Now they were on their way to San Lorenzo in Ecuador dealing with Ghost’s least favorite flavor of criminal: drug cartels. 

It’s too close to Mexico. Too close to that which he would forget gladly if it didn’t come with the loss of so many valuable skill sets. He’s crawling out of his skin for a whole new reason, watching the water fly by beneath them, deep in memories. 

Ghost takes all those feelings, fears, remembrances and swallows them whole. Lets them sink to a sour, dark place in his belly. He sits tense on the helo, still except for the rise and fall of his chest, his rifle a familiar weight across his knees. Sometimes he has to shut his eyes, swallowing against the rising nausea. 

He only has half an ear on Garrick and Johnny’s conversation beside him, but it is all he needs to follow along. 

“—lass of my own now,” Johnny is saying around a laugh, his accent thick enough to chafe at Ghost’s skin in a way he doesn’t want to examine, one that leaves him feeling raw but not necessarily hurt. “So no more picking up the barflies back in Hereford.”

“She making an honest man out of you, Tav?” 

“Aye, you could say that.” Johnny sounds proud of the fact. It all is so far from anything Simon has experienced in his life that he feels no distant stirring of empathy, not even a muted sense of familiarity in the words. Honest men do not exist. 

Not to mention, Simon’s never had a woman (willingly) and he never will. 

“You love her?” Garrick asks, earnestly interested to hear the answer. Ghost couldn’t care less.

“Aye. There’s something special about her.” 

“What, she’s cool with anal?”

Johnny crows with laughter, and now Ghost does feel something: annoyance, cloying, creeping up his spine like a spider in a web headed for the wiggling maggot of his brain. 

“Will you two ever shut up?” he snaps. “Not a moment’s fucking peace since we boarded.”

“Sorry LT,” Johnny says, sounding genuinely apologetic. Ghost cuts his eyes toward the other man, assessing for honesty. Johnny’s face is too expressive: brows lifted, eyes wide and earnest, mouth tipped into a tiny grimace, like the thought of irritating Ghost gives him real pain. Between the two of them, Ghost can’t help but think that it’s Johnny who needs a mask if he wants to survive in the world. 

Ghost doesn’t have the energy for this. He goes back to watching the scenery pass by. They are over trees now: thick lush jungle, the scent of which he associates with pain—plenty of which was his own. Plenty of which he caused to others. 

“What about you, LT?” Johnny asks, calling out over the sound of the helicopter blades. “Do you have a woman back home?”

Ghost lets his head turn, slow and dangerous. Johnny’s audacity never fails to surprise him. “What do you think, Johnny?”

“Honestly?” 

“Go on, then.”

“You look like if yeh’ve got a woman, she’s probably locked in yer basement.” 

(right where she’d belong.)

Garrick slaps Johnny’s thigh, his face mottled with panic. He hisses under his breath, something like, There are faster ways to die, Tav! Less painful ways, too, Ghost thinks. He fixes Johnny with a dead stare. The silence stretches, growing long and thin and dangerous, like the blade of a knife, until Johnny looks away. 

“Think less about my private life, Sergeant,” he warns him. 

“Not often you tell me to think less, LT.” 

Ghost just grunts, finished with the conversation, returning his unseeing eyes to the trees and slipping back into his own memories. 

-

That should be—well, not the end of it. He expects Johnny to become insufferable about it; that’s just the other man’s way. Still, Ghost had never expected to see you. 

He’s doing paperwork in the rec room, too stifled by the tiny, enclosed space of his office to remain there. Paperwork and debriefing are always his least favorite parts of an op. Give him a gun with which to kill and he will gladly kill; give him a pen with which to write and he spends half the time thinking about burying it in his own eye. Garrick and Johnny are there nearby fucking around on their phones having finished with their easy portion of the work ages ago. 

A phone is what Johnny thrusts beneath Ghost’s nose. It takes all of his mental fortitude not to flinch away from the unexpected action (or, more likely, not to rip Johnny’s arm off and beat him half to death with it). His eyes flicker down to the screen on instinct and—there you are. 

You have one eye squinted shut, your hand up to create a visor against the overbearing sun. The picture shows you from the bust upwards, and Simon sees it for approximately one full second before he grips Johnny’s wrist in a brutal hold and forces the hand and the phone away. 

It’s already too late. He’s committed you to memory. The way your hair sits, its color in the blistering sun. The curve of your lips (fuckable, he thinks against his will) as you give Johnny behind the camera an exasperated smile. The arch of your nose (images now—fingers pinching noses shut, forcing mouths further down his cock just to watch them choke and struggle)—

“Get that out of my face,” he grits out through his teeth. His thoughts won’t stop, not now that the floodgates have been opened, and it makes him feel like a dog backed into a corner, frightened-violence rising up in the back of his throat like bile. 

—the smooth line of your throat (and his hands around it, choking the light from your eyes just to fuck you when you’re soft and pliable and he doesn’t have to listen to you crying and begging)—shut UP!—

“It’s just my girl, sir,” Johnny laughs, his own eyes flickering back down to your image on the phone, like they are drawn to you. Like it is hard to look away. Ghost doesn’t have that problem—he has some  discipline left. “And it’s not as if she’s naked.” 

Ghost grips the pen in his hand so tightly that the plastic shell cracks. He’s barely keeping it together, sick and afraid and horrified and angry that Johnny has done this to him—has done this to his own girl—

His voice is rough when he croaks out: “What makes you think I care to see her, Sergeant?” 

“‘S it wrong to share the most important person in my life with the other most important people in my life?” Johnny says, eyes too guileless to be taken seriously. 

“Share less,” he snaps. 

“Been saying that to me an awful lot lately, sir.” 

“A good Sergeant would take my words to heart.” 

“A good lieutenant would know a futile lesson when it’s biting him in the arse.”

Ghost’s eyes narrow. “Careful, Johnny. As much as I hate paperwork, I’d write you up—gladly.” 

Johnny gapes. “What for?”

Ghost grins without mirth, mask stretching around his features. Even grinning cruelly like this, his face feels unused to any expression that is adjacent to happiness. He swears darkly: “I’ll find a reason.”

It would send anyone else running. Even Garrick looks fearful, though fascinated: the same look a man wears when he’s watching a car crash in progress. But if sense were dynamite, Johnny wouldn’t have enough to blow his nose. Instead, he just flops down on the couch close enough to flutter the pages in Ghost’s lap. Close enough for their knees to brush. 

“Jesus, you’re a tadger today,” Johnny says quietly, boot knocking against Ghost’s, a touch he feels all the way up his leg. “Shove off some of that paperwork on us. What’s the use of being a lieutenant if you can’t lord it over your sergeants?”

“I’m sorry, us?” Garrick asks. 

“I don’t shirk my responsibilities, Johnny,” Ghost says coldly, gathering his papers. His elbow brushes against Johnny’s ribs, the firm, burning warmth of the other man’s body. He jerks away. He’ll take the stifling seclusion of his office, that makeshift coffin, before he subjects himself to any more of this. “You’d do well to follow my example.”

-

Ghost resolutely does not think of you. Not during quiet lazy moments on base, not during the frustration of training recruits, especially not during the eerie calm of missions. You do not cross his mind. 

His dreams are another thing altogether. 

There are the dreams where he hurts and the dreams where he is hurting, and he doesn’t know which are worse. He only knows that they are made worse by your strange presence: your body bent and being broken in by others; you, bent and being broken in by him. He wakes in cold sweats, jaw aching from gritting his teeth in his sleep. 

He hates himself for this last place where he cannot execute control: his subconscious. 

-

“Mail?” Johnny asks cheerfully at the sight of Garrick seated on the bench outside the DFAC, a stack of papers and letters laying on his lap. 

Johnny is sweaty, gray t-shirt clinging to his toned body as he (for once) keeps a companionable silence at Ghost’s side. They have been training recruits all day—work which Ghost considers far beneath his pay grade, but which he can’t refuse when ops are so slow to arrive and when he is so eager (desperate) to keep busy. Ghost lets himself sit heavily on the bench a safe distance away from Garrick, sweat cooling on his own body. 

He’s not ready to be alone yet. 

He’s allowed to do that. To want company. Of all the people on base, Garrick and Johnny (and Price) might be the most tolerable of the lot of them. During the rare moments when the pitiful piece of humanity left inside him craves companionship, this is the least painful method to mainline it. 

He ignores the lack of letters for him. There is no mail for Ghost—there never is. 

Garrick passes Johnny no less than four envelopes. Johnny’s soft smile as he flips through them speaks volumes. Ghost can guess who they’re from: his mother likely, who writes as often as she can. One of his various sisters, surely. Take your pick.  Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Johnny flip through the letters and settle on one in particular, thicker than the others, tearing it open and tugging the letter out. 

The pictures slip from the folded piece of paper and fall to the ground. 

Johnny dives to grab them, but all it does is bring Garrick’s attention to them more. Even Ghost’s interest is piqued, his dark eyes giving up pretending to watch the recruits limp back to their barracks to shower before dinner and following Johnny’s hasty movements instead, watching the hot flush that crawls up the back of his Sergeant’s neck. 

“What are those?” Garrick asks. 

“No’ a thing.” 

Garrick lights up. He practically tosses his letter to the side. “She sent you pictures?” 

“Possibly,” Johnny says smuggly, the images—old fashioned Polaroids, a nice touch—pressed to his chest. His eyes narrow at the expression on Garrick’s face. “Don’t even think about it, Gaz—!”

Garrick pounces. The two begin grappling, both of their faces split into wide grins. Johnny can only defend himself with one arm, his other protectively clutching the photographs to his bosom. They take each other to the ground and Ghost watches, half interested and half irritated, wondering who will win. 

The pictures go flying—and fate’s invisible bitch of a hand causes them to land at Ghost’s feet. Garrick and Johnny freeze.

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t, the same way he knows that he’s going to. Ignoring their renewed struggles on the ground as they fight to untangle themselves and stand, he leans down and reaches for the photographs.

The white of the Polaroid’s edges contrast nicely with his dark gloves as he gathers the pictures together like a deck of scattered cards. 

“LT—“

They’re relatively tame. Perhaps you knew the high risk of sending them. In one you are kneeling on a bed amongst a sea of mussed, white sheets, wearing nothing but a t-shirt that you have tugged down between your parted thighs to offer yourself some modesty. It is painful to flip to the next one, but pain calls to Ghost, lures him in. In another you’re wearing some strappy lingerie but still covered artfully by the sheets, both hands covering your eyes, a grin on your face like you are mid laugh. Did Johnny take these photos of you himself? Did a stranger? A friend? Another shows your side profile, back arched, topless, every inch of you curved and poised. 

You’re (a filthy little slut) so fucking pretty. 

“Give ‘em back, LT, please,” Johnny asks gently, like he expects Ghost to tear them to shreds. Or confiscate them. 

Ghost drops the photographs to the bench, wishing he could scrub the images of you from his mind. He shouldn’t have picked them up in the first place. It’s adding fuel to the fire of his broken brain, and he knows that he will pay for it dearly. 

Johnny is talking. “—shy, she’d just die to know you saw.”

“She’ll only know if you tell her, Johnny,” Ghost reminds him. His mouth feels numb, his brain the quiet granted by white noise, a conglomerate of screams. 

Johnny frowns. “Suppose so. You alright?” 

“Since Ghost saw—“ 

“No, Gaz.” 

Ghost watches the two of them enter the building. 

His hand burns, where he has palmed the picture of you topless. He stands and slips the Polaroid into his back pocket. It’s on the tip of his tongue to call out for Johnny and give him the picture back—he could find some excuse, and Johnny would believe him, he knows it—but he doesn’t. He makes for his room, feeling sick with himself. He isn’t hungry. Not for food. 

-

Ghost is compromised. 

The thought replays in his mind over and over again as he drives to Price’s house in Solihull. You and Johnny have crawled beneath his skin and infected him, dug your way into his DNA and are affecting everything from his decision making capabilities to his dreams. He knows that going anywhere where you both will be is a mistake, but it’s one he can’t seem to help hurdling himself toward at high speed. 

Nothing will happen, he tells himself, knuckles white against the steering wheel. He only does what he allows himself to do—no more. The others will be there at least, Garrick and Price and Johnny himself. Physical barriers between him and you. Human meat shields, if necessary. Ghost wouldn’t dare to lay a finger on you. (But who would stop him if he tried? Who could?) You are safe, he tells himself. 

He is the last to arrive, dragging his feet up the concrete steps to the two story brick historical home that Price owns. He lets himself in the way that Price told him to and can tell by the eerie silence of the house that everyone is already outside enjoying the well-landscaped yard. Already he sees the evidence of you: a purse (go through it) laid neatly on the dining room table. He sets his keys beside it but does not touch it. 

Ghost doesn’t bother trying to delay the inevitable. Every part of him wants to run, but that’s all he’s ever wanted his whole life. He’s used to it by now, used to being forced to walk toward the thing which terrified him. He squares his shoulders and slides open the patio door, slipping back out into the muggy heat of the afternoon, face mask in place, hood up.  

The landscaping is one of the best features of Price’s house. The privacy fence is tall and appealing to Ghost’s seclusive nature, the lawn neatly clipped. There is a hedgerow running along the southern edge of the fence that is meticulously maintained. Flower beds lined with bricks rest along the house full of geraniums and phlox. The patio is smooth stone with an inlaid fire pit that would be crackling if the weather were any milder. An iron-wrought table sits nearby surrounded by chairs, and seated there are Garrick, Johnny, and Price. 

You are over by the flowers, kneeling in the soft grass, picking phlox just a few shades darker than the sundress you’re wearing, the one that skims your soft thighs. Ghost’s eyes roam over you and away all before your head even turns at the sound of the door opening. 

“LT,” Johnny calls, lighting up. “You made it!” 

“Didn’t think you’d show, Lieutenant,” Garrick says with a smile. 

“As if he’s got something better to be doing than spending time with us,” Johnny crows. 

“Jesus, will you two leave the man alone? Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already regretting coming,” Price says. Ghost inclines his head, grateful for the backup. 

He hears your approach, the soft sound of your flats against the patio stone. You are small (weak) compared to him, craning your head up to look in his eyes. He hates the dark part of his brain that calls you easy prey as he watches you twist the phlox stems between anxious fingers. 

“You must be Simon—” Johnny shakes his head a little, subtle, visible only out of the corner of Ghost’s eye. “—ah—Ghost? I mean—” 

“I don’t care what you call me,” he admits.

“Ghost,” you settle where it is nice and safe. “It’s nice to meet you. John talks about you all the time.”

“Likewise,” Ghost says flatly, hoping you will not mistake it for a compliment. 

Garrick snorts. “Never shuts up about you is more likely.”

There aren’t enough chairs for everyone, so you sit on Johnny’s lap, legs crossed demurely, skirt riding up around your upper thighs. He wonders about the softness of your skin, wonders if his calloused touch would hurt you or if you’re used to Johnny’s by now. He could make it hurt. The thought doesn’t come with any zing of pleasure, just the cold apathy of fact. Has Johnny ever tried that? Has he ever—

Ghost’s gloved hand clenches into a fist, curling around the iron armrest of the chair. He takes a measured breath and holds it until his lungs ache. Those thoughts aren’t his own. They come from the dark part that Roba seeded inside him, that part with creeping vines too deep to root out. That part with thorns. 

He could hurt you, the same way he could hurt anyone, he tells himself. But he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to. 

He does only what he allows himself to do. No more. No less. 

You and Johnny stand, heading into the house to retrieve a round of drinks for everyone. Ghost watches Johnny’s hand dip low on your back to the curve of your ass as he guides you through the open door, shutting it behind you. 

“Are you alright, Simon?” Price asks around a cigar. “I know meeting new people isn’t exactly in your repertoire.”

“Don’t mother me.”

“Don’t have to be your mother to care about you.”

“Garrick—get lost,” Ghost barks. 

The iron chair legs screech against the stone of the patio as Garrick stands hastily. “Had the same thought, sir. Hedges look lovely this time of year.”

When Garrick is properly out of earshot, pretending to find amusement in the neat hedgerows along the fence line, Ghost says: “I shouldn’t have come. I’m… I— can’t be left alone with her.” 

“With—? Soap’s gal?”

Ghost grits his teeth in shame and nods. 

“Do you know her?” 

Ghost shakes his head in the negative, but it’s not necessarily true. He knows a thousand women just like her, soft and unexpecting. The betrayal always cuts deeper than his cock could reach (estoy preso, somos lo mismo, por favor).

He stands, chair legs dragging against the stone. “This was a mistake. I need to leave.” 

“If you say so,” says Price, knowing better than to argue. “Go around the side. You won’t even have to see them.” 

“My keys are inside. I’ll be quick.” 

“Take care of yourself, Simon,” says Price, his eyes dark and lips downturned as he watches Ghost stalk to the patio door and slip inside. 

-

He braces himself to see you and Johnny in the kitchen, but when the door slides open near-silent, neither of you are anywhere to be seen. Like a fool, he considers himself lucky. Quiet as his namesake, Ghost goes to the table and picks up his keys, palming them. 

That’s when he hears it. The unmistakable muted slap of flesh on flesh. 

(Go look.)

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t, but that is his modus operandi these days: failing himself, doing what he isn’t meant to, seeing what is not for his eyes. His feet carry him silently to the door, which is cracked open just wide enough for him to see through into the room. It is a guest bedroom judging by the bland decor, the queen sized bed. Johnny has you sprawled on it, your sundress hitched up around your waist, his fingers buried to the final knuckle inside your cunt. Ghost can hear the way it squelches from all the way outside the door, knows that you must be dripping down Johnny’s wrist. 

“Keep quiet, love,” Johnny pants, one hand over your mouth (he’s not doing it right) to muffle the whines and groans trying to slip past your lips. “Needy little thing, aren’t yeh? Squirming in my lap, making my cock hard right there in front of my Captain, in front of my Lieutenant—“

You whine something back, but it is lost into his palm. 

“Don’t have time to get my cock in you,” Johnny sighs, twisting his fingers inside you, hooking them to press against that tender spot past your pubic bone that has your knees knocking together. He shifts his palm down to grip your neck, your panting breaths filling the room. “But you can bet this dress is coming off as soon as we’re home, do y’hear me?”

“Yessir,” you whisper, and it has Ghost’s cock throbbing. 

This is not for him. He thinks about Johnny’s words from months ago: that you are shy. There’s no chance you would ever want to be seen like this by him. Reaching out, he grips the doorknob and quietly tugs the door closed, til the sound of Johnny’s palm slapping against your clit is muffled behind the wood. 

He takes his keys and is gone before you ever know he was there. 

-

Johnny texts him later that night: 

Why’d you leave early, you numpty? We wanted more time with you. 

Ghost doesn’t respond. He’s too busy spiraling in his own flat, losing control every few minutes and slipping back into that place of pain and blood and dirt. 

An hour later, Johnny ends up adding, My girl wants me to say she was glad she got to meet you. Only Jesus knows why! Ghost definitely doesn’t respond to that. But he doesn’t delete the messages either.

[ily-fictional-women]

Rumors

Summary: A Russian. A cold-blooded killer. An assassin. Or at least that’s what they say about the new recruit in SHIELD. And the worst part is, Y/n will have to work with her without knowing if these rumors are true.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader + platonic!Maria Hill x fem!reader

Warnings: None that I know of but if I should add anything let me know.

Word count: 3526

a/n: Y/n/l is for your last name since y'all voted for that one the most. Also this was supposed to a be a quick one shot but I kind of got carried away. (Reblogs are welcome and critiques/advice are heavily encouraged, but please no translating.)

Y/n lugs her duffle bag over her shoulder before jumping off the helicopter and feeling the adrenaline from her mission finally subside. Already going on autopilot to her bunk, she’s suddenly stopped. Y/n rubs her eyes, “Maria? What do you want? I’m trying to go to my bunk right now.” Maria holds out a file to Y/n, “Fury wants to talk mission prep with you.”

Taking the file reluctantly Y/n gives her a tight-lipped smile, “Thanks Maria.” As Y/n walked off towards Fury’s office she could hear the other woman holler, “And for the last time L/n, It's Hill. Agent Hill.” Y/n laughs out loud, “And last I checked Hill we’ve been friends way before SHIELD.”

Maria slowly follows Y/n with a grin, “Then as your friend, I should tell you that apparently you’re working with the new rookie everyone’s been talking about.” Y/n immediately stops mid-step, turning to face her friend. “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” Y/n groans. “I already don’t like working in teams, but a rookie who’s an emotionless assassin is crossing the line.”

Maria lets out a soft laugh at Y/n’s dramatics. “Just go talk to Fury, Y/n.” Y/n gives her a sarcastic shocked look, “Whoa whoa whoa now. I thought we were on a last-name basis, Agent Hill.”

“Stop stalling and just go Y/n/l.”

Y/n lets out a deep sigh, “Fine”

//

Finally making it to Fury's office Y/n knocks on the open door. “ Agent Y/n/l, good of you to finally join us.” Us? Y/n thinks to herself. Peering her head through the doorway she sees a woman with fiery red hair turn her head to look at her. “Agent Y/n/l stop standing around and sit your ass down.”

Sitting down, Fury clears his throat, “Before we talk about mission work we’ll talk about the elephant in the room. Agent Y/n/l, this is Agent Romanoff, you’ll be working with her on this mission. Now Y/n/l I’m sure you’ve heard plenty about Miss Romanoff, and I honestly don’t care. You two need to work that out yourselves.”

“But I don’t-” Fury cuts Y/n off. “Y/n/l, you’re doing this mission. You gotta learn to work with people.” Out of the corner of Y/n’s eye, she could see the redhead tense up slightly, grip tightening around the arms of her chair.

“Moving on, if you review your mission files you’ll see that your mission is taking place in an underground Hydra laboratory in the White River National Forest. Your goal is to take samples of a new super soldier serum Hydra is attempting to make. Then destroy the lab.”

“And what do we do with the rest of the samples and the laboratory?” This was the first time Y/n heard Romanoff’s voice, she’d heard rumors that Romanoff is Russian but the American accent caught her off guard. “You both will be given explosives with a personal detonator. The faster you get out of there the better. Are we clear on everything?”

Y/n closes her mission file getting up from her seat, “Crystal, sir.”

//

Hearing a quick knock, Y/n opens the door to her room with a yawn, “What do you want, I have a mission tomorrow can’t-” squinting her eyes she realizes it’s Maria. “I was going to ask how the meeting went, as your friend. But I feel like this is a bad time.”

With a huff and another yawn, Y/n pulls Maria into her room before flopping onto her bed. “She’s weird, Maria.” Maria sits next to her on the bed with an amused smile, “And how exactly is she weird?” Y/n throws up her arms dramatically, “She was just so quiet! It was off-putting.”

“That’s not really fair Y/n.” She sits up, “How is that not fair Maria?” Y/n could see a huge grin grow on Maria’s face and already knew what she was going to say. “Rember boot camp? Before SHIELD?” With a dramatic whine, Y/n quickly flopped back down on her back, “I knew it! I knew you were gonna bring this up.”

“It’s a valid thing to bring up, Y/n!” Maria tries to shake her arm to get her attention which results in a quick scowl. “Don’t look at me like that, you know I’m right. You didn’t talk a lot or have a lot of friends then. Now you have me and I can’t get you to shut up.”

“Ha ha Maria. But how is that supposed to help me?” Maria lets out a stressed sigh. “Do I really need to spell it out for you?” Y/n shrugs, “Yeah, please. I’m tired, and I have to wake up early tomorrow.”

“Just try not to treat her like everyone else does. Be nice to her.” Rubbing her face into her pillow, she closes her eyes and lets out a soft, “Okay.”

//

The loud rumble of the helicopter was muted by the headsets Y/n, Romanoff, and the pilot wore. Looking down at the view through her window Y/n could see small flakes start to quickly pile up on the trees below her. “Hey, are you sure it’s safe to fly in these conditions? It’s starting to snow pretty hard.”

The pilot presses on her own headset, “Shouldn’t become a problem as long as there’s no delays, Y/n/l.” With a quick sigh, Y/n presses on her comms headset again, “Copy that Agent May.” It takes another irritatingly quiet silence to land a safe distance from the Hydra base.

After everyone takes off their headsets one by one, Agent May pulls out a tablet with an overview of the base. Turning to face the two she gestures to the defenses of the base. “About half a mile from here is the south entrance, which is closest to the ramp leading to the lab you need to go to. The lab is the most heavily guarded part of the base, so be prepared for that.”

The two quickly nod, slinging the supplies in their duffle bags over their shoulders and trudging through the snow as the helicopter started to lift up into the sky again. Making their way to the entrance, two soldiers guarding the front immediately started firing at the two agents.

Reaching for her sidearm, Y/n manages to shoot one in the shoulder while matching Romanoff’s sprinting pace. On the other hand, Romanoff manages to hit the other guard with a blast from one of her wrist tasers, then sliding on one leg sweeping the guard off his feet. Examining one of the guards' bodies, Y/n pulls off their ID card.

Moving slower and quieter, the two make their way to the ramp leading to the lab– the entrance only being a large cement wall and a steel door with, as predicted, an ID scanner beside it. Y/n begins sliding the ID card but pauses, looking over to Romanoff. “Do you have anything besides those taser things?”

Romanoff pulls out her own sidearm and holsters it, "I’ll be fine Agent Y/n/l.” Sliding the card the rest of the way, the two agents are met with seven guards on the other side of the door. Three on each wall of the narrow hallway and one last extra burly soldier in front of the last door that leads to the laboratory.

One of the soldiers smirks, inching closer to the two and slowly raising his rifle. “Now who let you pretty ladies wander down here?” Immediately Romanoff taps something on her wrist, sending the man into a greater electric shock than the last. Romanoff looks down at him, “We let ourselves in.”

“We?” Y/n asks with a smile, following her lead shooting at the guards.

“That’s what I said,” Romanoff replies plainly as she picks up the rifle the soldier dropped, shooting at the other guards.

Now the only one left is the burly guard who started charging for Y/n. Trying to shoot at him, Y/n’s gun only makes a clicking noise. “I’m ou-'' Before Y/n can even finish her sentence Romanoff taps her wrist again, shooting the man which causes him to immediately fall to his knees and land flat on his face.

Finally taking a moment to breathe, Y/n feels a sharp pain in her shoulder, touching the most painful part and feeling blood. Romanoff looks at her with somewhat of a false calm look, “You okay to keep going?” Y/n nods painfully, “Yeah, yeah. The padding took most of the hit. Just a flesh wound.”

Giving Y/n a hesitant look for a moment she moves forward toward the lab, Y/n following suit. Opening the lab door the two are met with a mess of a lab and an obviously panicking scientist. She immediately breaks a glass beaker, lunging at Romanoff. “Y/n grab the vials!” is the last thing Y/n hears before Romanoff starts wrestling the other woman on the ground.

Searching the tables of the lab, there’s no visible sign of the Hydra super soldier serum. “Agent Romanoff, there’s nothing here.” Romanoff manages to straddle the scientist, slowly inching the broken beaker towards her. “Well then keep looking!”

“I will not have my work seized by some spy scum!” The scientist manages to flip Romanoff over, inching the broken glass closer to her chest. “Romanoff! Catch!” Y/n slides a large sharp piece of glass towards the other woman before getting back to looking for the serum.

With the new shard of glass, Romanoff manages to toss the other woman to the side, stabbing her. But in the process of doing so getting stabbed herself.

“Romanoff! I found some vials! We need to plant the bombs and go-” her voice goes quiet as she notices the wound- “right now. Shit.” Romanoff pulls the glass out of her side, putting pressure on her wound. She grits, “Plant the bombs first, worry about me after, Y/n/l.”

For a second she hesitates wanting to help her, but ultimately she listens to Romanoff’s instincts. Shoving the samples in her pocket, Y/n takes off her duffle bag and begins unloading the explosives. Four explosives, one for each corner of the lab– ensuring that everything is destroyed.

Lugging her bag over her shoulder, Y/n pulls Romanoff off the ground before swinging the agent’s arm over her uninjured shoulder. Hobbling out of the lab, Romanoff groans in pain, “Y’know you don’t need to do this. I can walk fine on my own.”

Y/n manages to let out a pained laugh, “Save your energy and stop complaining, Romanoff.”

Managing to get out of the laboratory is one thing, waiting for extraction will be another thing. Sliding against the cement wall, both Y/n and Romanoff sit down. Looking out in the distance Y/n noticed the snow, there was so much more of it compared to when they first landed.

Pulling out her phone, she called her last resort, Fury.

“Come on, pick up, pick up.”

“Miss Y/n/l, I was just about to call you.”

“Don’t Miss Y/n/l me Fury, where’s extraction?”

“As I was saying Agent Y/n/l, I was about to message you stating that because of an incoming blizzard, it isn’t safe to bring extraction to you. But there’s a SHIELD-owned cabin that Hydra doesn’t know about 2 miles West of your drop-off point. I suggest you start heading there.”

Not having the composure to reply to anything Fury said Y/n just hangs up on him. “Romanoff. Come on, we gotta start walking. Fury said there’s a place we can stay for a bit.” Y/n was met with no reply. Slapping the redhead’s cheek lightly a few times wakes her up. “Good, I can’t have you falling asleep on me Romanoff. Let’s go!”

“The bombs Y/n/l,” Romanoff nearly whispers. “What?” Y/n asks more focused on making it to the cabin. “The bombs,” Romanoff says louder one more time. “Shit, you’re right.” Y/n immediately comes to a stop, nearly causing Romanoff to trip. But with the bomb being set off they needed to move fast.

//

“In SHIELD training there’s similar exercises to walking long distances with partners. What they don’t account for is the snow, injuries, and trees! So many damn trees. I don’t know why I’m rambling, you've probably gone through SHIELD academy.”

Romanoff hisses in pain, “I haven’t, and you can stop complaining about the trees-we’re here.” The outside of the cabin looks practically abandoned, with the paint peeling and wood rotting. When touching the rusted handle though, an automated voice appeared. “Access granted. Welcome Y/n Y/n/l.”

Unlike the outside of the cabin, the inside looked nice. It wasn’t luxurious looking but it worked. And most importantly, there was a fireplace. Easing Romanoff onto a nearby chair gave Y/n a moment to look through the drawers of the cabin. “Matches! Finally.”

Flicking a lit match into the pre-placed pile of wood in the fireplace, Y/n starts rummaging through her duffle bag, grabbing a first aid kit and kneeling in front of the other woman. “Okay, Romanoff this is gonna sound super weird but I’m gonna need you to unzip your jumpsuit.”

“I- It’s too cold.” Y/n stands up, wrapping one of Romanoff’s arms over her shoulder once more. “We are going to sit on the floor in front of the fireplace then, because I can’t have you dying on me here.”

Y/n eased Romanoff on the floor, quickly sitting in front of her looking for the right supplies. “Your shoulder.”

“What about my shoulder Romanoff?”

“You’re bleeding through your jacket Y/n/l.” Y/n shrug,s finally pulling out the right supplies from the first aid kit. “I told you already. I’m fine.” Y/n flashes a quick smile, “Now you need to unzip that jumpsuit so you can stop bleeding. Please.”

With a painful groan, she unzips the jumpsuit, revealing a black sports bra and a nasty wound not so far below it before tying the upper part of her jumpsuit to her waist. “Okay, you shouldn’t need that many stitches. Can you lean back a bit?”

Leaning back, Romanoff could already feel the sharp sting of alcohol. She was in pain, but trying to hide it. “You wanna talk?” Y/n asked, managing to keep her focus on cleaning the wound. “What do you mean talk?” Y/n shrugs, not breaking her focus, “Anything,” she glances up at the redhead. “It usually helps me forget about what’s happening.”

Romanoff lets out a dry chuckle, “I don’t think I’m in a talking mood.”

“What if I ask questions and you just answer them? It’s less effort,” Y/n grins. “And it’s the least you could do for me after I dragged you for two miles in a snowy forest.”

“I told you I could walk fine on my own.”

���Yet you didn’t bother to stop me once on the way here.” Romanoff lets out a deep annoyed sigh, “Fine. Only five questions though.” Y/n glances up at her one more time with a subtle smile, “Deal. First question, what’s your name? In situations like these, I usually like to be on a first-name basis.”

“It’s Natasha, Romanoff.” Y/n pauses immediately, before tossing a cotton ball to the side with a playful smile plastered across her face. “Can I call you Nat then?” Natasha cracks a genuine half smile with Y/n’s being too infectious. “We’ll see, but that does count as one of your questions.”

“All right, all right, fine.” Y/n continues cleaning the wound. “So, third question, your accent, is it real?”

“No, but I’m sure it’ll become real over time.” Starting the first stitch Natasha winces, but Y/n just keeps talking. “So if you fake your accent, is that why you don’t talk a lot? So you don’t slip up.”

“I’m not afraid of slipping up. I think it makes things less complicated. Less questions are asked, usually.” Y/n slips out a loud sarcastic laugh finishing the second stitch. “Wow! I think you just made a joke!” Natasha smiles to herself, “I think I did. But you’re on to your last question.”

“Okay, why did you join SHIELD?” Y/n can see Natasha bite the inside of her cheek, regretting the question. “You don’t have to answer or anything I can-” Natasha stops her, “No, no it’s fine. Um, long story short I was part of the red room. Then I met a guy who gave me an opportunity to clear some red from my ledger and take down the red room. So I took it.”

“Have you thought of reclaiming the title Black Widow then? Maybe clear the red of the title itself, make it something good?” Natasha gives Y/n a mock shocked look, “I thought you agreed to just five questions?” Y/n shrugs with a smug grin, “I mean I finished up when you were talking about clearing your ledger. I figured I might be able to sneak one more in.”

“How about this, you take that jacket off and let me look at your shoulder that’s ‘just fine,’ then I might answer it.” Y/n collects all the bloody materials used to clean up Natasha’s wound, throwing them away. “And I told you it was just a flesh wound, Nat. I’m okay.”

“And flesh wounds still should be disinfected Y/n, sit down.” With a loud reluctant sigh, Y/n sits in front of her, unzipping her jacket and exposing the bloody shoulder with a small hole made by the bullet. After leaning back a little, Natasha Immediately starts cleaning the surrounding area of the bullet wound.

“What about you?” Natasha asks as she continues cleaning the wound. “What about me?” Instead of avoiding eye contact this time, Y/n keeps her eyes on Natasha. “Why did you join SHIELD?” Y/n smiles, “No, nope. You didn’t answer my question first.”

“Fine, I’ve thought of it. Now what about-” Natasha quickly pulls out the bullet in Y/n with tweezers, “you.” Y/n yelps in pain pressing a hand against her shoulder for a moment before letting Natasha get back to work. “Okay, next time give me a warning.” Natasha grins to herself, “You should hope there isn’t a next time.”

“You knew what I meant. Anyways, when it comes to your question I joined SHIELD because my best friend did. Before SHIELD her and I, Maria, we served as Marines together. But Fury realized could do more, be more if we joined SHIELD. And she saved me enough times back then for me to trust her.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Considering you are finishing patching up the shoulder I got shot in, I'd say yes. Not with my life though, yet.”

“Do you plan to trust me with your life?”

“I don’t see why not. Having just one person to trust like that is limiting.”

“Trusting me like that is dangerous though.”

“Sometimes you need to live life a little dangerously.”

//

“That was a good debrief Romanoff, although I think you could have left out the part about me complaining about the trees.” Natasha grins, “Maybe don’t complain about trees the next time we’re in a forest then Y/n/l.”

As Natasha starts to walk off to her bunk Y/n stops her, “Nat, wait.” Natasha has a faint smile visible on her lip. “Did you need something Y/n?”

“Not really, I was just wondering if you wanted to maybe train together sometime. You could even teach me that leg sweep move you did.” Natasha crosses her arms looking Y/n up and down for a second. “Yeah, we could do that. Just prepare to fall a lot.”

“Am I interrupting something?” Both women jump a little, Y/n specifically turning around to see who it is. “Oh! Maria! Ehm um, I mean Agent Hill. Did you need something?” Natasha starts backing away, “I think I’ll leave you two to whatever is going on.”

“Okay, I’ll talk more about that move tonight?” Natasha smiles, “Yeah. That works.” As Natasha walks out of earshot Maria immediately starts giggling. "I told you to be nice to her Y/n/l, but not that nice." Y/n looks at Maria with a slight blush coming onto her face. "Wait, what do you mean by that?"

Maria shrugs with a suggestive smile on her face, "Y'know what forget that, how'd the mission go." Y/n smiles bashfully, "Uh it was good, it went really well actually."

"You like her don't you?"

"W-what no. It's not like that." Maria smiles knowingly, "Oh it totally is like that." Y/n slaps Maria’s arm in embarrassment, "Shut up."

"For what it's worth," Maria glances over Y/n's shoulder, "it looks like she likes you too."

[annionebutme]

Since ao3 is down i gift society this snippet I have.

Potter, I need your help."    

"Bloody hell, Malfoy. You can't just barge into my office whenever you need something."   

"Someone stole my dick."  

Harry stood shocked for a moment, mid indignation, before gathering his wits again. 

"Piss off!" He said flippantly, going back to his book. 

"I'm serious. They stole my fucking dick." 

"You are a fucking dick." 

"Potter!" He squeeked. Malfoy was never this good an actor. Covering up emotions, pretending to be a friend, being "drunk" while he slipped important info, yes. Acting terrified... never. Harry looked at him again. 

He looked like he was about to cry, his hands were gripping his robes with white knuckles, pulling them across himself. Malfoy would rather die than have someone see him like this. 

"Someone stole your dick?" 

"Yes." 

Harry let his Auror traing take over. He was investigating a theft. He just needed to ask the theft questions. 

"Stole?"  

"Yes, Potter." 

"Your dick." 

"Yes! Can we just get on with it?" 

Those were not the theft questions. He needed to ask the theft questions and write down the answers on his nice detective notepad. 

"How?" He asked, it was also not a theft question. Where was his notepad? 

"I don't bloody know, do I? It's gone! I woke up and it was gone!" 

"Your dick."   

"Are you an auror or not?" 

"I-. Sorry, Malfoy. I just- This is... a lot. Hold on." He shoved a few piles of papers aside, finding his notebook. Quill in hand, he felt much better. 

"When did you first notice the... item was missing?" Harry asked. 

"When I woke up at half past six this morning." 

"And when did you see it last?" 

Last night when I went to bed, at around nine. 

"Nine?" 

"We can't all be party animals, Potter." 

"I know but nine? We're not grandparents yet." 

Malfoy rolled his eyes and leant against the door in a false show of youth. 

"Alright so sometime between 9:00 and 6:30. I already know your place is warded up about as tightly as possible, I'm going to need a list of everyone who may have access, and I'll need a description of the item. In the meantime, may I investigate the crime scene?" 

"Item." Malfoy huffed. 

"Yes, well, it's more professional." 

"To ask for a detailed description of my junk." 

"Doesn't have to be detailed. Approximate measurements and any identifying features is plenty." 

"Ten inches." 

"Real 10 or bloke 10?" 

"Real ten, Potter. What am I going to do? Lie on a police report?" 

"You'd be very unsurprised, I'm sure, to hear that people lie to me and my notebook all the time. Has anyone had access to your item?" 

"My wife was just as shocked as I was." 

"There's no one else?" 

"No, I'm not unfaithful to my wife." Malfoy said, standing up straight and puffing his chest. 

"No healers, drunken runs around the Leaky, or being caught in a changeroom at the same time as someone else?" 

"No" Malfoy deflated a bit. 

"I'd ask for anyone with a motive, but I've met you. Anyone in particular you suspect?" 

"No." 

"Right. We'll investigate the scene then. Is now good?" 

Please feel free to take the idea as I'm unlikely to actually do anything with it. I made these idea notes

They are 43. Its 2023  

Kind of auror potter. Gets to work on whatever cases he feels like. He's a war hero let him have fun energy. 

Malfoy a Lord. Someone stole draco dick and balls hes "like that stupid doll the muggles keep prattling about"  down there. He can feel it being messed with they were helicoptering it around earlier. It was stole by a harry potter look alike escort who takes the genitals of their regular clients to blackmail them so they can have enough money for the spells that nake them look just like Harry  at various ages  

[pimosworld]

The ties that bind

Pairing- Dave York x f!reader x Frankie Morales

Series Summary-Dave is a private investigator who tracks down soulmates. He's tasked to find Frankie's, but what happens when he finds you and wants you all to himself?

CW-18+,MDNI, NSFW, Smut,Fluff, shameless flirting, sexual tension, MMF dynamics, MM flirting, oral (f) receiving, unprotected piv, cream pie, aftercare

WC-5.9k

A/N- I’m sorry I made you guys wait so long for this but I promise it was worth it. We just have a few chapters left before I say goodbye to these three and I’m glad they finally figured it out.

[Main Masterlist][Series Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter VI

“I know you’ve explained it already but repeat it back to me.” You bite your fingernails as you pace in front of the couch. 

  “Honey I can explain it to you a thousand times, you’re still going to have to hear it from them.” Alicia says after her attempt at calming you down. The story Santi told her sounded so far-fetched you didn’t believe it at first and then you needed to hear it again to be sure.  

  “I just find it hard to believe they would go through such great lengths for me.” You narrowly miss the pillow she throws at your head from her spot on the couch. 

  “I told you about talking down on yourself.” She points a finger at you. “You’re a fucking catch and you have the upper hand so talk to them and see where it goes.” 

  ****

  It sounds easy enough but you weren’t even sure where to begin. You’re just glad your current predicament didn’t seem to be affecting Alicia and Santiago’s relationship. You loved seeing her so happy and told her not to worry about you. You had plenty of time to think since you spent most nights alone while he whisked her off on dates. 

  You were taking your sweet time responding to Dave and Frankie wanting them to squirm a little after what they put you through. You did appreciate their persistence. The daily good morning texts even with no response from you. Flowers overflowing your apartment and the record store. Your boss had stopped by on a rare occasion and raved about how you’d been decorating the place. You wanted to turn down the money he left knowing how expensive flowers were and you didn’t have it in you to even begin to explain where they all came from. 

  After a week and a half they were slowly wearing you down. Frankie sent you his attempt at a selfie while he was in the helicopter in his aviators. He cut off half his face but it still had you weak in the knees. 

  Frankie: image 

  Frankie: just in case you forgot what i look like 

  You wanted to respond so badly but you opted to just like the photo. 

  Dave:image 

  Dave: thinking of you 

  The extreme close up of the hummingbird practically brought tears to your eyes, but that could also be your hormones. You can see the vibrant colors on its back and the blur of its wings as it feeds from a petunia in the park. 

  It was inevitable that you were going to cave, but you wanted it to be on your terms. Over the course of the next week you spoke to both of them separately. You called them and heard both of their stories…the truth this time. As bizarre as the whole thing sounded you were relieved when their explanation matched up and you could tell they were being genuine. You’ve never heard two men apologize so much in your life. 

  Dave had to return home for a few days and Frankie was busy with work so you decided to meet at the end of the week to all talk in person about what you were going to do going forward. 

  ****

  “You’re gonna be late if you keep fussing with it.” Alicia says perched on your dresser as you fidget with the little black dress she let you borrow. As uncomfortable as it was in the beginning, wearing her clothes always brought out another side of you. 

  “I’m just taking a page out of your book.” You point at her in the mirror. “Fashionably late…plus I want them to squirm a little.” 

  She stares at you with an incredulous look on her face. “What have I done to you?” 

  In all honesty she’s given you a boost of confidence that you sorely needed over the years of your friendship. You’ve learned to ask for the things you want and not take no for an answer. You’d spent years being told you weren’t good enough or didn’t fit the part by your step mom and your ex and ultimately the rejection from your dad had you really believing those things were true. 

  Anyone else may have grown tired of constantly reminding you that you deserve to take up space. She never did and would be there every step of the way to prove it to you time and time again. 

  You suppose that’s why she’s such a good fit for Santi. He needed someone to be his match, to challenge him when no one else would. To show him what it was like to laugh again and enjoy the little things. 

  You put the finishing touches on your makeup as she hops down from the dresser. “You call me either way.”

  “Of course.” You wave your phone in front of her face as she crosses her arms. 

  “Just know I’m extremely jealous of you right now.” She trails behind you as you make your way to the front door a little wobbly in your heels. 

  “Nothing to be jealous of…this could all crash and burn in my face.” A sudden wave of fear waves over you at the prospect but you shove that down. 

  “I highly doubt that hon.” She spins you once and places a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She’s leaning precariously in the doorway as you step out into the hallway. 

  “Would you do this?” You ask sheepishly. 

  “In a heartbeat.” The door shuts in your face and you’re left in the quiet. Only the sound of your heels clicking on the ground echo as you head to the elevator. 

  ****

  “If you’re gonna keep fussing with your tie you might as well not wear one.” Dave says as Frankie pulls uncomfortably at the collar of his dress shirt. 

  They’re sitting in the lounge where you all agreed to meet to discuss things and Frankie hasn’t been this nervous since his pilots exam. Dave is the picture of calm as he relaxes back in the blue crushed velvet seat. 

  “Where am I gonna put it?” Frankie aggressively rips the tie from his neck. 

  “Put it in your pocket or something.” Dave bites out as he leans forward to take a sip of his drink. 

  The two of them probably look ridiculous sitting here bickering. It’s been an uncomfortable few minutes since they finished their conversation about how the night could go. 

  Frankie was preparing for you to tell him that you would need to think things over for awhile since they lied to you initially and he didn’t come to you genuinely and say who he was from the beginning. 

  Dave was prepared for you to tell him that you were obviously going to choose your soulmate and that he was a creep for leading you on and basically stalking you in the process. He seems calm on the outside but inside he’s cursing the thought of returning to his lonely life of helping others find what he so desperately missed. 

  Frankie leans forward as he glances at his watch. “We said seven right? It’s been a little while.” He wrings his hands together nervously. “What if she doesn’t show?” 

  Dave swirls the glass in his hand as he looks over at Frankie. “Relax…she’ll be here.” 

  They both turn their heads as the sound of heels on marble floors sound in the room. 

  ****

  It’s serendipitous walking into the hotel lounge where weeks ago you and Alicia tried and failed at finding love. The very same lounge where you both decided that this was it and you were probably going to end up marrying each other and riding off into the sunset. 

  You see them before they see you. 

  Dave is sitting back in the chair, legs spread wide with a glass of amber liquid twirling in his hand. He’s wearing a fitted black suit with his hair combed back. Frankie looks about as nervous as you feel as he leans forward muttering something to Dave. You can’t hear his reply but he looks unbothered. He’s ditched his signature cap and his loose brown curls are styled somewhat to frame his face. He’s got on black slacks and his white dress shirt is unbuttoned a little so you can see a sliver of his tan chest peeking out. If you were a weaker woman you’d forgo any conversation and ask for Dave’s room key right now. 

  It’s the click.click.click of your heels that brings their attention to you as you approach the table. 

  ****

  “Holy shit.” Dave speaks first and for all his practiced effort to keep it cool his resolve quickly crumbles as he sees you approach wearing  something entirely not you but such a welcome surprise. 

  He would tell Frankie to close his mouth if his wasn’t hanging agape at the short silk, black dress. The barely there straps that he could break with his teeth and the front plunging low enough to see your sternum. 

  You’re standing there expectantly and he quickly realizes neither have them have spoken a word since you waltzed up to them. 

  Just as Frankie is about to speak a waiter appears at your side. “Excuse me miss, would you like something to drink?” His eyes linger over you a second too long Dave’s nostrils flare in annoyance. 

  “Gin and tonic with lime please.” You say politely as you sit in the open seat in front of them. Doing your best to cross your ankles to not give them a view you’re not ready for. The dress rides up your thighs as you sit on the soft velvet seat and Frankie’s eyes flit briefly to them as he clears his throat and adjusts in his seat. 

  You’ve barely said a word and you’ve got both men wrapped around your finger. You’re completely unaware of the predicament you’ve been in since your little stunt at the country bar and this is only making it worse. 

  “So I suppose you both have some things to say before I tell you my thoughts.” There’s a slight air of confidence to your tone as you survey both men. 

  Frankie glances at Dave before clearing his throat. “Listen, I'm sure you’re sick of hearing our apologies.” You nod once before letting him continue. “I still have to say I’m sorry for lying to you. I wrongly assumed you would just toss Dave aside.” 

  “Thanks.” Dave responds dryly and you have to suppress your laugh. It’s obvious they’ve formed some sort of connection that hopefully plays into your favor. 

  The waiter returns with your drink trying to gauge whatever interaction is playing out in front of him. You all awkwardly wait until he’s out of ear shot to continue. 

  “Anyways…everything else I told you was the truth. Including the fact that I think I’m falling in love with you.” The last part is rushed out as your eyes go wide. A small part of you thought you might be moving too fast, but the feelings you were developing for both of them were hard to deny. 

  Frankie wishes the floor would swallow him up whole right now. His practiced speech went out the window when he saw you walk in the room. 

  You take a sip of your drink and direct your attention to Dave. 

  “I don’t regret what I did.” Dave states matter of factly as Frankie brings his head up from staring at the floor. Of all the things you expected him to say it certainly wasn’t that. “If I could do it all over again the only thing I would do differently is tell you who I was as soon as Frankie met you.” His voice is low as he leans in a little closer. “Even if you never want to speak to me again, I’m glad I did all those things for you and I never lied when I said I care about you a lot. So much that it scares me.” 

  You finish the rest of your drink and sit back in your seat. This is really starting to feel like an episode of the bachelor and if they don’t accept your proposal you suppose more than one person is going to get hurt. 

  “Well…” You fidget with your hands momentarily as your voice shakes a little. “I appreciate your honesty…even if it’s a little late. I’m relieved to know that you feel the same way about me that I feel about you.” 

  Frankie feels like he can breathe a sigh of relief that he didn’t just make a complete fool of himself. 

  “I’m not choosing.” You say with finality and Dave raises an eyebrow at you from across the table. “I don’t think I should have to after what you two put me through. So if you want out, now is your chance.” 

  ****

  You’re all three or four drinks deep, now the only ones in the hotel lounge. You’ve been swapping horrible dating stories and they’ve been swapping some more classified stories that you don’t care to remember for fear of your personal safety. These two unassuming and charming men have seen some things in their lifetime that you would never have imagined. It’s thrilling in a way to know how dangerous they are but when it comes to you they’re inculpable. 

  Neither one budged when you told them you weren’t going to choose and now that you’re sitting here a little more comfortable sharing the loveseat with Frankie as Dave relaxes back in the chair next to you it almost seems like this is how it was supposed to be. 

  Frankie’s strong hands rub small circles along the exposed part of your thigh. “So he calls you hummingbird?” 

  “That was our secret.” You say playfully to Dave as he brushes his fingers along your knuckles. 

  “Well, you share the tattoo with Francisco so I figured I should tell him.” He turns your hand over in his tracing the lines of the tattoo on your wrist. 

  “You don’t have to call me Francisco.” Frankie’s breath is hot on your neck as he’s moved a little closer to you. 

  “What if I want to?” Dave’s voice is anything but innocent as you watch a moment pass between him and Frankie. 

  This could work. 

  Frankie leans in whispering something as his lips brush your ear. He has to resist biting it as he sees the goosebumps raise on your skin at the close contact. Something in the air has shifted throughout the night and he’s done trying to overthink it. 

  “Who’s telling secrets now.” Dave grabs your foot that was trailing up his leg, your heels have been long discarded. His hands start to kneed and rub and you have to stifle a moan at how good it feels. 

  “I was just telling her what hummingbird means in Spanish…so we can have our own little name.” Frankie’s feeling bold as he kisses your neck. “Isn’t that right?” 

  You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the sensation of both of their hands on you but a pleasant buzz is running through your body. 

  A throat clears behind you and you lean your head back against Frankie as you lock eyes with the waiter. He looks a little annoyed but straightens up Dave and Frankie put their attention on him. 

  “The lounge is closing for the night so-“

  “Charge it to my room please. Dave York, Capri Penthouse suite.” Dave cuts him off and he’s gone before he could finish his sentence. 

  It’s quiet for a moment as you wait to see who’s going to speak first. You definitely don’t want the night to end yet but you have no idea where their heads are at. You exhale and look them dead in the eyes before you lose the courage to say what you’ve been wanting since they both walked into your lives. 

“I want you both.” They nod at each other but you’re certain they don’t interpret your true meaning. 

“We’re yours.” Dave says genuinely as he looks at Frankie. 

“Tonight.” It’s not a question, more of a statement as they both look at you wide eyed. Frankie tenses behind you and Dave’s shocked expression has you a little worried. It’s bold and so unlike you, you’re sick of doing the predictable thing. You want them and they clearly want you so these are your terms. 

Dave slides forward in his chair. “You’ve been drinking…” he whispers as if you’re not the only ones left in the lounge. “We don’t want to take advantage.” He emphasizes we….assuming Frankie feels the same and he nods at him. 

“We’ve all been drinking… and I made up my mind last night.” You gather your purse in your hand and start to stand. “Unless you don’t want to and we can discuss this at a later…”

“No.” “No.” You have to chuckle at their sudden enthusiasm. 

Frankie’s mind already starts to wander to all the things they could do to you. Things they could show you. All the ways he could make you come apart. Two hands are better than one and four hands….

It’s a little shocking to Dave that this scenario had never crossed his mind but it’s clear neither of them were about to let this opportunity pass them by, if even for one night. 

“I’ll give you two a moment to talk, I need to make a phone call.” You walk just out of ear shot to call Alicia who is no doubt picking up on the first ring.

****

“I didn’t bring a change of clothes.” You can hear her sigh and probably shaking her head on the other end of the line. 

“Clothes!…that’s what you’re worried about right now? I will bring you a change of clothes in the morning if you manage to pull this off.” 

You’re standing at the edge of the lounge door, not wanting to turn around and see whatever heated conversation could be going on behind you. 

“I’m mostly stalling, and mentally preparing myself to call a ride home in case they think this is crazy.” This is crazy right, how was this the next logical step in your brain. It all sounded right bouncing around in your head throughout the week and now your nerves seem to be getting the best of you. 

“Deep breaths…I doubt anyone with two eyes would turn down and offer like this.” Alicia mumbles something incoherent on the other end but you can take a guess as to what she may have said. 

You duck your head as some loud guests enter the lobby heading back to their room after a night on the town. You don’t know why you’re shying away, it’s not as if they could possibly know what’s going on behind you. 

****

“You said this would go one of two ways.” Frankie says as he fidgets with the label on his empty beer. 

“I know what I said…it’s just of course I didn’t expect…do you not want-“ Dave’s brief moment of clarity cuts through the sexual tension. Not even realizing what he’s asking of Frankie who’s already given up so much. 

“No, of course I want this.” His voice is sure and it’s the first time he actually says out loud the thing he’s been thinking since that first day in the coffee shop when he met Dave. Nothing in his wildest dreams would’ve imagined him here in this exact scenario. 

They’re both quiet for a moment, a little hesitant after admitting something that most men wouldn’t be brave enough to counter. It feels like that moment when you’re lucid and you don’t want to wake up because the dream is just too good. The lights in the lounge are perfectly dim casting a shadow along the walls. You’re standing there against the doorway, looking adorable and exposed in your shirt black dress and your heels haphazardly buckled because you didn’t want to walk barefoot away from the proposition you just dropped in their waiting laps. 

“Have you ever?” Dave asks timidly no ridicule evident in his tone. 

“Yes, but I didn’t care about them this way.” Once or twice when he was stationed overseas because Pope wrangled him into it, long before he was married. “I doubt she ever has.” 

Dave surveys you for a moment as you chance a look over your shoulder. “There’s no need to rush this, if this isn’t going to be the only time. I think it’s fair if you take the lead.” 

Frankie should be nervous or anxious at the prospect of your first time together being watched by Dave. There’s something else drumming below the surface as his voyeuristic tendencies start to rear  their head. Frankie adjusts himself trying to hide his excitement as Dave’s eyes linger too long on him. 

****

You’re glad you walked away to give you and them a moment to collect yourselves. You didn’t want to be present for any uncomfortable conversation if either of them decided this was just too much.

You can see it in their eyes as you approach, it’s clear what decision they’ve made. 

“So boys…are we doing this?” 

Frankie stands and takes your hand in his as Dave slides the room key out of his pocket. “Baby…we’re all yours.”

****

“You wore this to talk?” Dave’s fingers lift the strap of your lace bra as he slides down, brushing his thumb across your nipple through the soft fabric. 

“What can I say? I like to be prepared.” You bite your lip as small goosebumps raise across your skin. 

Frankie has to shake his head at the sentiment. The act you put on is not as innocent as he previously thought. Maybe your friend gave you a little push in the right direction. 

He’ll have to thank her later when she doesn’t want to kill him. 

Both of them standing in front of you, patiently waiting for your next move has you feeling a little exposed. 

Dave can sense some hesitation from you, you’re staring anywhere but at them as your hand covers your stomach. 

His hand cups your face, as he brushes his thumb across your jaw. “We don’t have to do this hummingbird.” You can see it in his eyes, how deeply he cares for you in that moment. 

“No, I want to…it’s just. I’ve never done this before.” You gesture between the two men and laugh a little. 

They both hold such serious faces then, not wanting to make a joke of your vulnerability. You are opening this part of yourself to both of them. 

Dave leans in, his lips brushing yours as you melt into the kiss. He turns your jaw slightly and Frankie is at your side, his large palm replacing yours across your stomach and then caressing your hip. 

His forehead meets yours for a moment, just breathing you in before he dives in for a kiss.  It’s like shockwaves whenever you touch him, the feeling skates down your spine into your toes and you’re leaning into his touch. 

Dave presses you impossibly closer, the growing bulge in his pants pressed against your back and the added pressure of his hand kneading your breast. You reach your hand back, reveling in the way Dave moans into your ear as you palm his cock through his jeans. The other hand tangled in Frankie’s hair as he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth. 

“We’re gonna take real good care of you baby, aren’t we Dave?” His breath ghosts over your lips in a whisper. 

Dave just hums in response, he’s letting Frankie take the control. He wants him to have this with you. He’s already been given the world, now's not the time to get greedy. 

“Lay down on the bed.” Frankie hooks his finger around you, making quick work of your bra before he lets you go. 

You haven’t been this exposed for anyone since your ex and he used to look at you in disgust, all the tattoos that weren’t his. 

They’re staring at you now like a painting in a museum. It almost takes your breath away at the thought of him finally seeing his artwork adorned on the body meant solely for him. 

“Jesus…you’re beautiful.” Frankie half whispers to himself as you sit on the edge of the bed, gesturing to their clothes. 

They almost mirror each other as they strip their dress shirts and slacks. You’re practically salivating at the two of them stripped down to their matching black boxers and tan bodies. Dave looks over to Frankie and whistles and you can see the red flush creep up his neck. It’s a relief to know you weren’t the only one this nervous. 

Frankie nods his head and Dave takes the spot behind you against the pillows. He crooks a finger at you to join him and you crawl over settling in the spot between his legs. You lay your body back against him and you can feel his hard cock through his boxers as he adjusts to get you more comfortable. 

“We’ll go slow…this time.” Frankie says as he crawls on the bed, fitting his broad shoulders between your legs. His fingers hook into the lace of your panties as he slowly slides them down your legs. His eyes are dark as he sets them on his prize and you swear you see him lick his lips. 

Your ex would go down on you occasionally but you could tell he was unsure of himself and so you never really could enjoy it. 

Frankie takes his time as he kisses at your stomach and nips at your thigh. Dave’s strong hands knead your breast and you giggle a little as he whispers in your ear that he knows you’re ticklish. The laughter dies in your throat as Frankie licks a stripe through your slit. His groan reverberates through you as you let out a soft whimper. Your senses are on overdrive as Dave’s hands work your body and Frankie’s mouth devours you whole. 

Frankie doesn’t care that he has to share with the way you’re looking at him and the sweet noises you’re making he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. You cry out his name as your hands tug on his curls. He’ll do anything to have you say his name a thousand times over while his face is buried between your thighs. “Fuck…Frankie I’m gonna come.” You pant out between breaths. 

“Come for me hermosa, I want to hear you.” He dips two fingers into your pussy as his tongue works circles around your clit. 

Dave’s not sure how he thought tonight would go. He hoped you would forgive them both and maybe find a way for everyone to get what they want. He didn’t expect to have you splayed out in front of him while Frankie takes you apart. 

He’s always thought himself confident in the bedroom but he may have to ask Frankie what exactly he’s doing to elicit these noises. His cock twitches at every moan and whimper as you squirm against him. 

You arch your back into him and whine, he can tell you’re close the way your whole body shakes. 

“I’ve got you baby, you can let go.”

It has to be Dave in your ear because Frankie hasn’t come up for air. You can feel the coil tighten inside as your fingers grip his hair. He growls as you pull him closer. 

He’s missed this feeling, the craving for someone so bad you can feel it in your gut. 

He can taste it on his tongue, the moment you break and cry out his name. Your voice is hoarse and he’s barely had his fill of you. 

He looks up from between your thighs and locks eyes with Dave. Your chest is heaving as he holds you close trying to calm your breathing. there isn’t an ounce of regret in the way he’s looking at you both. Like this is exactly what’s been missing from his life. 

Frankie rubs his hands down your body, slowly bringing you back to him. He kisses that crease of soft skin before he raises up and captures your lips in his, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “Don’t you taste so good?” He rasps against your lips. 

“Mhm.” Is all you can manage as Frankie squeezes your thigh, dimpling your skin between his fingers. 

“I think Dave wants a taste.” Frankie nudges you back as Dave moves down beside you. 

You can feel Frankie take the spot on the other side as Dave takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Gently holding you there while you catch your breath. When he presses his lips to yours it’s softer than you would imagine. The hard set line of his jaw and his intense stare don’t let on to the tender touch of his hand. 

His hand drifts from your chin to cup the back of your head further deepening the kiss as you both moan at the sensation. He’s achingly hard against your stomach as he rolls his hips into you, pulling you impossibly closer. 

You reach down and palm him through his boxers but he carefully grabs your hand pulling it up to his lips, placing a kiss to your palm. “Not tonight hummingbird.” You tense up at the slight rejection but he’s quick to assure you. “You’ve already made me the happiest man alive, I can be patient and wait my turn.” He looks over your shoulder to Frankie with some unspoken words as they effortlessly roll you to face him. 

Frankie’s hair is a wild mess as you reach over and run your fingers through it. “Sorry about this.” 

Dave laughs as he presses his lips to your shoulder. “I don’t know, I kinda like it.” 

If there was a competition on who could make Frankie blush, Dave would be winning by a landslide. 

Frankie suddenly looks a little shy. “We can stop now, if you want too.” 

“No Frankie…I need you.” You surge forward and kiss him as you feel two fingers dip into your entrance. A small gasp leaves your lips as Dave works your open. Frankie’s pulling his boxers down in one swift movement as you try not to balk at the sheer size of him. 

“I’m gonna go slow okay?” His breath fans across your face as you nod. Dave groans behind you as he pulls his fingers out dragging them slowly up and circling your clit. You whine and drop your head back on his shoulder as he lifts your leg over Frankie’s hip. 

You only let the two of them talk briefly about tonight and yet it’s like they’ve mapped it out for weeks. They have the blueprint to your body’s every need and they work together like they’ve studied you for years. You’re not afraid to call it what it is anymore…it feels even more than love to you the way you all fit within each other. Dave at your back and Frankie at your front, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this world. 

Frankie reaches between you to grip his cock, sliding the tip between your lips as you shudder. He pushes in slowly, experimentally rolling his hips as you grip his shoulders. Dave is nearly silent behind you as he places his hand along your abdomen, feeling the way you breathe. You grit your teeth at the slight pain that gives way to pleasure as he buries himself to the hilt. You wait there a moment, your foreheads pressed together as he tries to catch his breath. 

“Frankie please…” A stray tear rolls down your face as the sensation takes over your body. The feeling of Frankie’s cock inside you has you clenching around him.

“Fuck me…” Frankie hisses and Dave has to chuckle at the sentiment of you fucking him. “You’re so tight baby.” 

Frankie starts a slow agonizing pace and you can feel every ridge and vein as he drags his cock in and out, his eyes flit down to where you’re connected so he can watch the way your pussy takes him so well. He’s not going to last the way you feel right now and the way Dave’s looking at him. You bury your head into his neck, crying out his name as he picks up the pace, his grip tightens on your hips as Dave squeezes your stomach making Frankie jerk his head up to him. 

He can feel him and he knows it, your legs pull him in further as you match his thrusts and he finally locks eyes with Dave. He can see it in his eyes and he hopes he’s not wrong as Frankie leans in kissing him feverishly. He’s dizzy with the scent of you and Dave on his tongue. 

“Oh fuck Frankie.” You’re shaking as you whine into his neck. 

“You gonna come for me?” Dave’s voice cuts through the moans and sharp breaths and Frankie doesn’t know who he means but he’s dangerously close. 

Dave’s hand trails down from your stomach to rub your clit, his hand is pressed between your bodies and Frankie bites down on his lip to keep from coming right then, he wants to wait for you. He has too. 

It’s delirium having them all over you, inside you. You open your mouth as a silent scream leaves it, Frankie’s lips are on yours breathing it in as you come apart in his arms. You can feel his hips stuttering as Dave grips his arm. “Mierda, díme.” 

“English Francisco.” Dave grits out behind you. 

“Come inside me please…” Frankie groans as he pulses hot ropes of cum inside your pussy as you flutter with the aftershocks. You can feel a warm wet spot on your back as you cling to Frankie, his cock still pulsing inside you as you whimper at the overstimulation. 

It takes you all a minute to come down from your high and Dave rolls out of the king size bed to the en-suite bathroom. Frankie’s kissing your sweat soaked forehead as you rub circles on his back, still tangled up in him. 

“Okay lovebirds, I need to clean you up.” Dave says as he dips onto the side of the bed, wiping your back carefully with a warm washcloth. You glance at him over your shoulder as he blushes. “Not a word.” You laugh and mock zipping your lips. 

There’s a moment after he’s done where you’re unsure where to go from here. You can tell Frankie feels the same as he sits on the edge of the bed. 

Dave clears his throat as he takes his spot on the other side of you. “Generally speaking people sleep under the covers.” He pulls them back as you and Frankie deflate, his relieved smile etched across his face. It feels right between them, maybe a little hot at the moment but you know it’s where you’re supposed to be. 

You nestle in between the two of them as your eyes start to drift off to sleep. 

“Hermosa?” Frankie’s sleepy voice sounds from behind you. “You speak Spanish?” 

“In a pinch.” 

Dave snorts into the pillow as you both burst out into laughter. Ya this feels right

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[theshypinkflower]

BUT THATS JUST A THEORY-

Okay as much as I love TPOF and BTD I refuse to believe that the entire game takes place within CANADA (apart from obvi derek’s route)

This theory originated from the bar Vincent’s route take place in is named Route 66

Now I know it’s a fictional bar in a fictional game but let’s be realistic for a second-

Why the hell would CANADA have a bar named ROUTE 66? (For all my international friends Route 66 was basically a highway that went through some southern states)

If anything it would make sense for one of the many states that the original Route 66 cuts through to have a bar named Route 66, namely Texas because of its massive amount of land

BUT, of Vincent’s bar is in Texas, that would imply that the rest of the games have to take place in Texas

When we finally get to TPOF the Texas theory becomes wayyyyy more plausible

In Derek’s route we are shown to be in a desert area, last time I checked Canada has no deserts whatsoever ever so that means Derek had to have crossed borders and to get there

Now we could pull a “Derek is rich he probably has a helicopter or something”, since we know how Derek’s dad is HIGHLY abusive, I really doubt he’d let his son use a helicopter to go on his yearly vacation

Especially since a light sized helicopter can only hold roughly 40 gallons of fuel, I say light helicopter because why would Derek even need a bigger one! That much fuel would not be enough to make the journey from even Canada to Mexico (2,252 miles) without making multiple stops to get fuel. And even if Derek did use that much fuel, he wouldn’t do it again because then Salvatore (Mr. Goffard) can’t write off the fuel expensive as a business expense and it would make a sizable dent in his wallet. And no, Derek could not use a private jet because he’s not a goddamn celebrity, he most likely wouldn’t even own one he’d just fly first class. And the jet would still have be in an airport and that would still mean MC HAVING A PASSPORT. Going by car isn’t that plausible, wherever Derek is going will have to cut into the United States, and the United States is ridiculously strict on border control. According to Quora, if you don’t have a passport you still need an ID and a birth certificate. Which if we’re kidnapped WE WOULDNT HAVE A BIRTH CERTIFICATE. Meaning Fox has to operate IN the United States, better yet, TEXAS.

Texas is a huge state that has multiple terrains in it. Derek wouldn’t even be that far from his nearest desert to take is yearly trip. The trip doesn’t even HAVE to take place in Texas, in take place in New Mexico for crying out loud

But operating in Texas also makes wayyyyy more sense for Mason

A drive from Texas to roughly Colorado (which is where personally I believe the route takes place judging by the trees and bears) is 12 hours nonstop. If MC is heavily drugged out before leaving the auction, 12 hours is he perfect amount of time for them to wake up naturally across state lines. Celia’s route also doesn’t have to take place in Texas, but I imagine it’d be close enough to it. Texas is the hugest state in the US so it makes sense Fox would operate there, LET ALONE THE ENTIRE STORYLINE TAKE PLACE THERE. There’s tons of land Fox could set up his operations at, plenty of wealthy people who can afford to buy his merchandise, and even more people he can snatch off the street to use for auctions and streams.

It also makes sense that BTD would take place in Texas since (this is another theory for maybe another time) Lawrence is able to grow the opium poppies he uses in zone 8 (the growing zone for the Easstern side of Texas).

Also I know about the lore that Vincent is Akira, but frankly that plot makes NO SENSE whatsoever ever and clearly EP used it so he could ship Vincent(Akira) and Sano (NASTY)

I’d like to also point out that Strade is German (no surprise there), Texas has had German history, in-fact there’s plenty of German residents still in Texas. So whether strade was drawn to moving to the United States when he was younger, or straight up was born in Texas he wouldn’t be as much of an outlier due to Texas’s German history

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(GFL Short Fic) Vacation With M4A1

Alternative Title: M16A1 desperately tries to interfere and helicopter M4A1

M4A1 and the rest of AR Team are ordered to take a vacation to an approved city by the Commander due to their constant successful operations on the field. Utilizing this well earned break, M4A1 and her S/O plan to spend lost time together.

Meanwhile, everyone else in the AR Team do their best to hold back the alcoholic sister complex that is M16A1. Word Count: 3.1K Post Edit Note: Okay I think this might be the cutest GFL thing I've written yet. Cinnamon roll deserves it.

M4A1 finished packing her suitcase, taking a deep breath and smiling as she exhaled. She looked at her gun and debated whether or not to bring it.

Deciding against it, she closed her suitcase and looked at the rest of her squadmates in the dorm.

SOPMOD was excitedly blabbering to ST AR-15 who was half listening as she continued packing her own clothes. RO635 was at the Commander's office to discuss what kind of city they'd be in, and M16A1 was relaxing on a couch.

The sight brought a smile to her face as she sat down on her bed, but it was not long before there was a knocking at the door.

(M16A1) "Yo, come in!"

S/O walked through and greeted the team, but their smile formed upon seeing M4A1.

(M4A1) "S/O? What are you doing here?"

(S/O) "Oh, did the Commander not tell you? He said that he wanted me to come with you!"

M16A1 stopped drinking and raised an eyebrow, though S/O didn't notice that as she was behind them.

(SOPMOD) "Great! You're practically family anyway, so I don't see a problem!"

(ST AR-15) "I suppose we do need a human chaperone of some kind."

(S/O) "I promise not to get too much in the way of your all's plans!"

(SOPMOD) "But I know what your plan is."

SOPMOD teased, wiggling her eyebrows as she eyed M4A1.

M4A1 blushed but smiled back at her S/O.

(M4A1) "It's lovely that you're coming too! I was honestly worried that we wouldn't get to spend much time together."

(S/O) "You earned the vacation anyway, I wasn't going to be mad or anything. Let's make sure to have some fun together, okay?"

M4A1 excitedly nodded, M16A1 meanwhile drank her bottle in one go, her eye twitching.

...

AR Team and S/O had gone aboard a flight, it was a privately owned airline by G&K to ensure security, landing at one of their airports inside the city.

The flight itself was quite comfortable and there was plenty of room since there were no other passengers besides them and the flight crew.

RO635 was busy looking at the map to plan for some things the group could do, ST AR 15 was sleeping, and SOPMOD was busy watching a movie in her own system to ensure she wouldn't die of boredom on the way over.

M4A1 and S/O sat together in one of the seats, hands holding as they spoke about nothing in particular, their heads resting on each other lovingly.

M16A1 had a problem with them being so close, and was about to walk over before RO635 held an arm out, stopping her.

(M16A1) "What?"

(RO635) "It's rude to an interrupt a conversation."

(M16A1) "H-Hey, this has nothing to do with you-"

(RO635) "Actually, it does. The Commander ordered that we enjoy ourselves, and I fully intend on every member doing so. Including S/O. Now, let your 'little sister' enjoy herself too."

M16A1 glanced over to M4A1, noticing how peaceful her smile was. She muttered something under her breath as she turned back to RO635.

(M16A1) "This is not over...!"

...

(M16A1) "M4!"

M4A1 turned to M16A1 as she wrapped an arm around her neck.

(M16A1) "Looks like we're going to be roommates throughout the trip!"

(M4A1) "Oh, alri-"

(ST AR-15) "Actually, you'll be rooming with me."

(M16A1) "Eh?"

ST AR-15 held up a piece of paper, indicating who would be sleeping in each room. RO would be with SOPMOD, STAR would be with M16, and M4A1 would be with S/O.

(M16A1) "...Son of a bitch...!"

(ST AR-15) "Speaking of, I think S/O needs your help."

S/O was struggling to lift their luggage, and M4A1 immediately rushed over to help, carrying it with zero issues using her T-Doll strength.

M16A1 shot a death glare at ST AR-15, but she simply shrugged in response.

(ST AR-15) "Commander was the one who organized it, not me."

(M16A1) "What?! But why would he specifically-"

She then remembered that RO635 was the one who went to the Commander about the details of planning the trip.

...

The first night together, M4A1 and S/O held hands as they walked down the brightly lit streets. They passed by many shopping centers and held a few bags in their arms, simply admiring the sights. The clothes they wore were quite modest. At first glance, they were just a normal couple.

(M4A1) "Are you sure you don't mind? The dress was quite expensiv-"

(S/O) "It's all good! I haven't really spent my paychecks much, so coming here and getting to use it is kind of refreshing. Besides, I think I can spoil my girlfriend."

M4A1 bashfully smiled, tightening her grip on their hand.

(M4A1) "...I-I want to spoil you too."

S/O leaned in closer, M4A1 letting a cute gasp escape her lips, feeling their warmth even more than before.

(S/O) "Trust me, you already are."

Meanwhile, M16A1 was listening into their conversation via headpiece in her room. She tapped her finger rapidly against her arm, drinking as she struggled to contain her frustration. M4A1 had told her she was going out with S/O, but she didn't even think to invite her! Who knows what kind of thing S/O was planning to-

ST AR-15 hit her head with a rolled up towel, immediately catching her off guard.

(ST AR-15) "Quit eavesdropping like some kind of stalker."

(M16A1) "You don't understand! S/O could be planning to...To...-Uh..-"

(ST AR-15) "Enjoy their time with their girlfriend? Yeah, I think I understand."

(M16A1) "Hmph, wanna know why you can't get any dates, STAR?!"

That got under STAR's skin as her eye twitched.

(M4A1's Voice) "I don't know about STAR, but I can hazard a guess for you, M16. For starters, you left the comms on."

M16A1 choked on her whiskey and immediately spat it out, fumbling as her eye began changing colors.

(M16A1) "HA-UM...WHOOPS! LEFT THAT ON, LOVE YA SIS, BYEEEEEE!"

...

AR Team had taken a trip to the aquarium, getting to look at many forms of marine life they had never seen before. SOPMOD put her face against the glass and drew some attention, but not too much where it got them in trouble.

RO was barely able to keep her in check while everyone else was enjoying the beautiful blue reflections from the glass. S/O had caught a picture of the AR Team all standing together, smiling as they stood in front of a beautiful coral reef exhibit.

As they continued, they came across a penguin exhibit, which excited SOPMOD to no end.

(SOPMOD) "LOOK, THERE'S A TUNNEL TO SEE THEM CLOSER!"

(RO635) "H-Hey! Don't run!"

(ST AR-15) "Heh, they do look cute..."

(M16A1) "...Why are they walking like that?"

(S/O) "I think it's due to the placements of their legs."

(M4A1) "Is that right? Well if they live in the arctic, why haven't we seen any?"

S/O noticed a plaque containing information about them, leaning in with M4A1 to read it closely.

M16A1 quickly frowned, seeing how close their faces were together. Now, direct intervention was ne-

(SOPMOD) "HEY, LOOK! THAT ONE'S LOOKING AT YOU!"

SOPMOD suddenly dragged M16 by the arm to examine them closer, making her yelp involuntarily as she forgot how strong the energetic T-Doll was.

S/O and M4A1 finished reading the information and were mildly interested.

(M4A1) "Oh, they live in the arctic poles. That makes sense."

(S/O) "Besides, we have enough exotic wildlife to deal with back at base as it is. Don't think we need these cute things to get chased by some of the T-Dolls."

(M4A1) "W-Well...we already have you at the base."

S/O's eyes widened at that as they began blushing, M4A1 on the other hand began cringing at the flirting she had done.

(M4A1) "...P-Please forget I said that. That was terrible."

(S/O) "Hah, absolutely not! That was adorable!"

M4A1 let out a noise that they couldn't tell was a cry or groan.

By the end of the aquarium trip, SOPMOD had a massive penguin plush to carry. But the souvenir everyone treasured the most from that trip, was the picture of the squad smiling together.

...

The next few locations the group visited were many kinds of food stands, trying out all kinds of exotic and homemade dishes.

The curiosity getting the better of everyone, they had found some truly bizarre items.

(Blue haired woman) "It's roasted snake meat between two buns! I call it a snake sandwich! It's a local dish around here, and I can't get enough of the folk food! I guarantee you won't either!"

(S/O) "I-I...I see."

(RO635) "Hah, well you did say you'd try anything."

(M4A1) "I'll try some too, then!"

The two got one sandwich while everyone else had their own. SOPMOD greatly enjoyed it while STAR, RO, and M16 all gave each other a glance after a single bite.

(SOPMOD) "This is really good!"

(M16A1) "...I-I can wash this down with my whiskey bottle, right?"

(ST AR-15) "Oh god, I think I'm gonna need it too."

(RO635) "Per-...Ugh, Permission granted...!"

M4A1 held the sandwich in her hand as she let S/O take a bite.

(M4A1) "How is it?"

(S/O) "...Uh...I-I might need the whiskey as well..."

M4A1 immediately took a bite herself and immediately her expression scrunched up. M16A1 had noticed the indirect kiss they had shared and that immediately sobered her up from the drink and the taste.

(RO635) "...You're going to have a mental breakdown once they share a direct kiss-"

(M16A1) "RO, I WILL SHOVE THIS SNAKE UP YOUR ASS!"

STAR and RO quietly stared at M16.

(M16A1) "...Okay that came out wrong but you know what I mean!"

SOPMOD leaned in with her mouthful, looking at the group.

(SOPMOD) "If you don't want yours, can I have it?"

...

The group sat inside a fancy restaurant, one the Commander had personally picked out for them. They had almost an entire room to themselves, allowing them to be as loud as they wanted.

M4A1 sat next to S/O with M16 on her left side, enjoying dinner with the AR Team.

They all wore a rather fancy dress, with S/O being no exception. S/O couldn't help but admire the dress M4A1 wore, smiling at them.

(M16A1) "Hey, watch where your eyes wander!"

That caught M4A1's attention as she began blushing, instinctively raising her arm.

(S/O) "Oh! Hah, s-sorry, it's just that she's really pretty in the dress!"

M4A1's arm adjusted her hair back bashfully, letting her arm drop again.

(M4A1) "Well, you were the one who bought it for me. I think it's fair you can look."

M4A1 giggled. As M16A1 was about to say something, she felt an elbow suddenly hit the side of her stomach, making her yelp out. The source came from M4A1 herself.

(M4A1) "Now, what we having for dinner?"

(ST AR-15) "Hm...I think I'm going for a steak."

(SOPMOD) "I wanna try eating that fish we saw in the aquarium! What was it called...uh...?"

(RO635) "I think that was a snapper. And I'm taking a roast duck."

(M16A1) "Ah...hm, that's tough. M4A1, help me choose something!"

M4A1 leaned over to the menu and examined with her, as S/O stared at the menu intensely, unsure of what they wanted either.

After placing their orders, the group had a lighthearted conversation of all the things they had seen so far on the trip, and what was on the docket soon. Tomorrow was simply a free day where the group could split off where they pleased before meeting back up for dinner.

As their food came out and everyone began to dig in, M4A1 blushed as she fed S/O with a spoon for only a brief moment, immediately getting teased by her squadmates while it sent M16A1 into an internal screaming fit.

S/O smiled after M4A1's spoon exited their mouth.

(M4A1) "Is it good?"

(S/O) "Delicious! Here, let me do the same."

M4A1 blushed but allowed S/O to do so, trying her best not to glow bright red from the teasing and the fact they were doing this in front of the others. M16A1 desperately wanted to stop this degenerate act until everyone, including SOPMOD concerningly, gave her a glance that said "Don't try it."

(S/O) "Whatcha think?"

(M4A1) "It's really good...!"

Both of them giggled, wiping the crumbs off each others lips with their thumbs.

...

During their free night, M4A1 and S/O stayed inside their room together. They would still be here for a few more days, so there was no rush to go anywhere. Truth be told, they were both tired and just wanted to relax for the evening.

They decided to put on a song in the stereo as they remained on the bed, cuddling. It was some kind of slow jazz, but they were both perfectly okay with the song. It fit the atmosphere quite well.

"How can you say good bye my love? When we haven't even said hello"

(M4A1) "I'm really glad we have this time together, S/O."

S/O hummed in agreement, letting M4A1 move closer.

(M4A1) "I wish all of us could stay in this moment together. It won't be long before we have to go back in the field..."

"I see your face I feel your sadness I feel your pain inside of me"

(S/O) "..."

(M4A1) "A-Ah, sorry. I shouldn't be bringing down the mood-"

(S/O) "No, it's alright. I was thinking the same thing."

M4A1 looked up at S/O with soft eyes, noticing their somber expression.

"Why are you so afraid How can you go on living in the past?"

(S/O) "Everyday I'm worried for you all...I know it's not healthy to think about what could go wrong but...I don't think my heart could take if anything happened to any of you."

(M4A1) "...Me either."

"I see your eyes I feel your pain I feel your sadness inside of me"

(S/O) "Though for right now, we don't have to worry about any of that. Our more immediate concerns should be SOPMOD, honestly."

S/O chuckled, making M4A1 laugh as well.

(M4A1) "Or M16 bursting in here with her gun."

(S/O) "That too. I'm glad she's enjoying herself, though."

(M4A1) "Me too. She can be so protective over me. It's not like I can't take care of myself."

(S/O) "But it just means she cares right? That's not really a bad thing."

(M4A1) "You don't know how many near-death experiences you've had this trip."

M4A1 joked, both of their moods quickly brightening up.

"Open your heart and smile for me"

(S/O) "...I'm glad I met you, M4."

(M4A1) "I...I'm glad I met you too."

Both of their lips met in a soft embrace, both of them sliding into the bed to be in a more comfortable position.

"You are not the only one afraid to fall in love"

When their lips departed, their eyes fluttered open as a blush overtook their cheek's natural color.

(M4A1) "I love you."

(S/O) "...Wanna prove it?"

She would have normally became flustered at the flirting, but it made M4A1 more bold. S/O's smile eased M4A1 before they began kissing each other again.

"Dance with me again, and walk this way Don't be afraid to love again-"

In the other room, thankfully M16 had drank too much and was currently snoring in the room. It did not however stop STAR from blushing bright red, trying to turn up the volume on her TV, as both it and the snoring was not enough to block out the noises coming from M4A1 and S/O's room.

...

M4A1 and S/O sat next to each other in the hot tub. Normally the pair would have been extremely flustered, but they were too worn out to care. Another day of walking around a massive shopping center and everyone buying all sorts of things had drained their mental batteries.

M16 had gotten many kinds of exotic drinks, SOPMOD had an unholy amount of figurine and posters in tow, RO and STAR had bought varying types of clothing, and lastly the couple had bought varying amounts of things ranging from clothes, figures, and some old movies.

M4A1 leaned against the tub as the hot waters melted their exhaustion away. Normally, a T-Doll could not submerge themselves in water for long, but the entire AR Team had switched their normal chassis to endure water in case if some kind of freak rainstorm happened during vacation.

And it led to her being able to enjoy the tub with S/O.

(S/O) "Well, we're gonna have fun packing all our things."

(M4A1) "I feel bad for RO. She's going to have to help SOPMOD pack all those toys..."

(S/O) "Heh, at least your dorm will look pretty."

M4A1 hummed in agreement as she leaned closer into S/O, letting them massage her head as they washed her hair.

(M4A1) "STAR and RO wouldn't agree with that."

(S/O) "What about you?"

(M4A1) "As long as it makes SOP happy, it's alright with me. How about your figures?"

(S/O) "Well, mine are cool, not cute. Though SOP would probably argue that. That reminds me, you know about that whole body pillow initiative Kalina?-"

The couple continued to make smalltalk as the hot water eased their tired bones and servos. Once they were done, they quickly dried themselves and fell asleep together on their shared bed.

...

On the final night before they departed on the plane, S/O had taken another picture of the AR Team together, all leaning down and smiling for the camera. Though the very last picture they took, S/O was with them, M16's arm around their neck as well as M4A1's.

M4A1 fondly looked at the picture as everyone else was asleep on the plane, including S/O.

She exhaled through her nose and put the picture back in her jacket, turning to S/O who was resting comfortably on her shoulders.

(M4A1) "..."

She said nothing as she kissed the top of their head and fell asleep with them too. The trip back was very peaceful, and soon they had to resume their duties.

But the vacation as something that would remain in the AR Team's memory forever.

Inside the AR Team's dorm, M4A1 had a picture of the squad together, and directly next to it was a picture of her and S/O holding each other's waists and smiling at the camera.

...And directly below that picture was M16A1's face crudely drawn with a frowny face, something she vehemently denies was her who put it there.

Because in reality, it was SOPMOD who drew it.

[imtheiliad]

Hi AJ maybe "You never had the best ideas."from the prompt list

hellooooo thank youu for the prompt! <3 this is my first attempt at buddietommy so if it's terrible we can pretend it doesn't exist! anyway here are the three of them planning their "wedding" featuring a glimpse of wedding clipbaord buck

“You never had the best ideas.” Tommy says looking up toward one of his boyfriends, from where he is sitting next to Eddie at their Kitchen table. Well, technically he was one of his fiances, which was particularly relevant at this point in time. 

“And you have, Mr. Sure, I will fly a helicopter into a hurricane?” Buck says with his eyebrows raised, looking over his clipboard. “Okay I admit, live doves is not the best idea,” he scribbles across that idea on the sheet of paper “but this is our wedding I am talking about, we have got to go all out you know?” 

“Wedding” was what they had defaulted to using since “non-legally binding commitment ceremony” became too much of a mouthful every time and it seemed like the law was not going to be catching up any time soon. They would be getting married if they could. 

“I told you before the three of us, and Chris would be enough for me. The one thing we will not be doing is a hospital wedding, one of those was enough.” 

“I think everyone else agrees with that.” Eddie finally pipes up. 

“Do you have any other opinions?” Buck nearly pleads. 

“I am with Tommy, you two are the ones that have never had a wedding before.” Eddie replies, hands raised in surrender. 

They both look at him with skepticism. They've had this “argument” before. Buck and Tommy agree that Eddie's previous wedding barely counts since he was young and wasn't given much choice in the matter. And this one is about them. The past doesn’t matter in that regard. 

“Like Tommy said, you two and Chris are the only people I care about having there.”  

“You two are no help at all!” Buck sighs, dropping his clipboard onto the table. “It is sweet that all of you make this commitment between the three of us is us, but I can't make all the decisions guys." 

Tommy glances at Eddie, “We know baby. We would never ask you to do that.” 

“Then can you help besides shooting down my ideas please?” 

It wasn't that that's all they were doing, they are  helping, this afternoon was just not a good example. Today they were making the final decision on the venue for the ceremony which was proving to be difficult. 

“I do think everyone would also murder all three of us if we did it without them, so it might be best to not do it that way.” Eddie adds with a small smile. “We could do it here? The backyard has plenty of space for family and we could ask Bobby or Chimney to officiate?” He continues. 

“Jee can be flower girl ring bearer, Chris can be a collective best man--“ 

“Maddie is gonna walk me down the aisle, i-is that okay?” Buck is biting the inside of his lip. 

“Of course baby.” Tommy replies gently stroking Buck's forearm. 

“It's not weird that I'll have someone and you guys won't?”

They both consider this for a moment, “We’ll figure it out.” 

[space-for-brains]

UPDATE ON FLIGHT 5342/UH-60L BLACK HAWK & Additional Context

Total fatality count is now officially 60 passengers and 4 crew from Flight 5342, and 3 crew from the Black Hawk. Total 67 dead, with no known survivors. It is now the deadliest crash in the US since November 2001.

The black boxes from Flight 5342 have been recovered. The black box and cockpit voice recorder for the Black Hawk have yet to be recovered. The NTSB, FAA, U.S. Dept of Defense, U.S. Army, FBI, and TSB of Canada have all announced they will take part in investigation procedures.

Air Traffic Control (ATC) was in contact with the Black Hawk within 30 seconds of the collision, providing approval to maintain visual separation from the jet. There were multiple jets of the same make/model flying in the area at the time. Despite the airport being known as a difficult place to fly in (with the Pentagon and Potomac river both restricting available airspace/emergency landing areas and the large amount of both military and commercial traffic) the ATC facility was understaffed.

According to a report from the NYT, this is not uncommon for most of the country's ATC towers. The job is stressful, requires a lot of training, and does not pay well. At the time of the collision, the position for helicopter control should have been covered by two controllers, but only had one.

The CEO of American Airlines (AA), Robert Isom, stated in a video on Jan 30th that a hotline has been launched for the families and loved ones of the victims: 1-800-679-8215 . The pilots were Captain Jonathan Campos, with six years experience at AA, and First Officer Samuel Lilley, with two years experience at AA.

The US Secretary of Defense, Pete Hegseth, stated that the crew of the Black Hawk was participating in a routine annual retraining and we're all fairly experienced. The crew included the pilot Chief Warrant Officer 2 Andrew Eaves, the crew chief Staff Sergeant Ryan O'Hara, and a yet unnamed crewmember of the rank Captain.

The investigation is still ongoing.

The following is additional context I believe is relevant to aviation as a whole, though not directly about Flight 5342.

As I'm sure many have heard, Trump has stated that the true fault of the accident is the fault of DEI. Of course there have been numerous public statements and backlash against this, plenty of Trump admin people are echoing the same sentiment but under the flavor of "needed the best of the best for safety". It is worth noting that during Trump's previous term, DEI initiatives remained unchallenged and his own admin even had a program to train 20 people with "targeted disabilities" to train for careers in air traffic operation. I don't believe I have to tell anyone that BIPOC and disabled people are not the cause of a horrific air collision.

Additionally, the FAA Administrator position is currently vacant. Former admin Mike Whitaker resigned on January 20th. Elon Musk had publicly called for Whitaker to resign on X in September 2024, as well as stating: "The fundamental problem is that humanity will forever be confined to Earth unless there is radical reform of the FAA!"

This sentiment likely stemmed from fines levied against SpaceX in 2023 for an unapproved launch control room that had been constructed, failure to conduct routine safety poll of flight controllers, and using non FAA approved rocket fuel. While Whitaker was not the admin at the time of these fines, Musk still eagerly announced on X that SpaceX would be filing suit against FAA for regulatory overreach. Later, Whitaker did make the following statement to the House of Reps during his testimony: "[SpaceX has] been around for 20 years, and I think they need to operate at the highest level of safety... [Fines are] the one tool we have to get compliance on safety matters." The total amount of fines levied against SpaceX was $633,009.

As Musk is now head of the Dept of Government Efficiency, it's my opinion that this context greatly matters for this accident, and any accidents that may occur moving forward. There is a president who is eager to blame problems on minorities and an oligarch eager to ignore safety protocols in order to further his business ventures.

I fear Flight 5342 may not be the last.

[internetskiff]

Where would you choose to hide out during the Combine Occupation of Earth?

(For the sake of keeping this poll interesting, keep in mind that practically none of these areas are 100% safe, so if you choose Canals or Outlands for Black Mesa East or White Forest respectively, keep in mind that it's practically guaranteed that you will be caught up in the Combine raids that those areas undergo.)

#1: City 17 -You might have your own apartment, but it's unlikely it's even gonna have a door, and heavens forbid Civil Protection decides to raid a block in your neighborhood because that means every other building is probably equally fucked. Could have a decent-ish life if you joined Civil Protection, perhaps.

#2: Canal System -Seems relatively quiet, if you're willing to put up with the odd headcrab shell or helicopter performing a routine sweep. Would probably prove quite a hassle to traverse without transport.

#3: Ravenholm -This place was probably your best bet before it's detection, but now it's practically become a headcrab nest. At least you have plenty of food at your disposal if you know how to cook an alien parasite! You'll probably need a helmet.

#4: Coast -Proximity to Nova Prospekt results in this region having a moderate Combine presence throughout. Still, there seem to be a few pockets of relative quiet if you're capable of staying under the radar. Heavy antlion presence.

#5: Outlands Hard to comment on this area's Combine Presence, since we witness it only after the Citadel's collapse, but it's safe to say the Outlands undergo headcrab shellings and are home to one of the larger antlion nests we've seen. Still, the buildings and infrastructure seem to be impressively intact compared to some other regions.

#6: Quarantine Zone -You are insane and will more than likely fall prey to one of the many examples of xenian fauna infesting this subsection of City 17. It is also quite the hotspot when it comes to Combine activity. If you're itching to be shot, parasitized, eaten, or all of those in that exact order, this is the place for you.

Feel free to elaborate on your choice in the tags, I'm always interested in reading those.

[marshallpupfan]

What’s your favorite paw patrol episode? Mine is all paws on deck!! I love seeing all the pups!

Oh, that's easy; season 2's "Pups Leave Marshall Home Alone"!

There are plenty of reasons why I love this one; for starters, I feel it's a turning point for Marshall. Before this one aired, I feel the franchise didn't exactly take him too seriously. But once he proved he could be relied on, even when he's by himself (in terms of not being assisted by the other pups), and he could even adapt to the situation by using another pups' pup pack, I felt things changed and it showed just the kind of skills he has. It proved that, while he may be clumsy, when he puts his mind to something, he's truly a forced to be reckoned with.

And while some fans have argued this, I still 100% believe this is the first episode in which we experienced something for the first time in PAW Patrol; genuine character development. Prior to this mission, Marshall was afraid of flying, but when he was forced to use Skye's pup pack to save that kitten, he actually got used to it (still crashed at the end, but that's our Marshall). Cut to a few episodes later, and what did we see Marshall trying? Air surfing. Not because he was forced to, but because he wanted to. He became more open to flying! And from that point on, he was less afraid of Skye's helicopter harness, and as we seen in Air Pups, he fully embraced flying and became rather good at it! And in a show where something like character development is practically non-existent, Marshall got to experience some and actually have it shape the way he behaved for the rest of the TV series! Arguably, we've still yet to see anything like this ever since.

Beyond that, there were just so many cute moments, too; Marshall's tumble while playing Pup Pup Boogie, him having so much fun pretending to be Ryder, his interactions with the kitties, etc. Ah, I could go on and on about how much I love this episode... but this post is already way longer than I intended, so I better wrap it up. lol

So... yeah! I, love, love, love Pups Leave Marshall Home Alone. It's such a great & unique episode, and for me, it's still yet to be topped. :)

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

“What is life?” a child asks Oriana Fallaci at the beginning of her great 1969 book Nothing and Amen. As Fallaci wrote, the next morning she flew to the Vietnam War to find out.

I have thought about that question a lot in recent weeks, since arriving in Israel earlier this month to cover the war. I have seen plenty of wars before and they always throw up that question: “What is life?” To understand life you have to understand death, and to understand death you have to try to understand the worst thing that humans can do to each other: war.

Hamas’s attack on Israel on October 7 has left 1,200 dead. Nearly 240 hostages—children, women, grandmothers—were taken to Gaza. Over the past few days, about 81 hostages have been returned to their loved ones during the cease-fire.

I was at the children’s hospital in Tel Aviv when the first children and their parents were released. When the helicopters landed and the hostages got out, IDF soldiers blocked their faces with screens to protect them from the glare of the cameras. But I’d already been sent a single photo taken by the Arab press that showed some of the mothers with their children inside a bus when they were still in Gaza.

The terror on their faces. They looked as though they’d aged by decades.

But at this moment, there was joy. As the helicopters landed, traffic stopped, and people got out of their cars and broke into song. They clapped and their voices rang out as they welcomed back the hostages with songs like “Hevenu Shalom Alechem.” (“We brought you peace.”)

As it happened, 12 of the 13 returnees that night were from Kibbutz Nir Oz, the first place I visited on my trip to Israel. But for every returnee, you remember those still in Gaza. I thought especially of the grandsons of the man who showed me around the kibbutz during my visit. On the morning of October 7, the teenage boys were alone in the house. Their grandfather was on the phone with them trying to tell them how to hold the safe room door shut while avoiding being shot from the other side. The two boys struggled with a wound-up sheet, and held out a while, but they couldn’t fight back against two grown men, members of Hamas. They were taken into Gaza.

So was Kfir Bibas, a baby of ten months. So was his brother. So was their mother. Yesterday, Hamas said that they would not be released because they died in captivity. 

Who knows if Hamas killed them, as they killed so many others, or if they are lying in order to torture those waiting for their return. 

[blinkaftermidnight]

nothing happens

Read on AO3.

It ends quietly. It shouldn’t. Leah thinks there should be more fanfare. Sometimes, late at night, on their island and on the new island, they discuss the possibilities. They talk about being invited onto talk shows across the country. They talk about book deals. Documentaries. Fame. Wealth. Signing autographs and becoming influencers. They’re gonna be the Unsinkable Eight – well, they acknowledge they’ll probably be overshadowed by the boys in the media, as the straight teenage girls drool over them, surely, and all sixteen of them will probably be lumped together – and Gretchen’s ass will end up behind bars, and they’ll see justice.

It feels plausible, at three in the morning, when they’re lying around camp or in the bunker, unable to sleep. Something is going to happen when they get home. Their lives are going to change forever, again. Because this has already changed them all forever. Leah doesn’t know if seeing Gretchen get slapped with a life sentence will bring her any peace, but it’ll be a start.

But it ends quietly. Which is funny, because the night before – that night – is anything but quiet. It starts with an explosion, somewhere not far from the bunker, shortly after sundown. It’s funny that it’s the first real problem they’ve encountered since they were abandoned in the bunker with the boys. The fourteen of them haven’t done much of anything besides inventory their shit and fuck around. What are they supposed to do, anyway? The bunker protects them from the elements, and there’s plenty to eat and plenty of entertainment.

Then there’s the explosion, and it draws fourteen reluctant teenagers out of their respective parts of the bunker, and Leah lays eyes on faces she hasn’t seen in weeks, in some cases, when they gather on the rooftop. It’s strange, how they all look like sorta regular teenagers again, now that their skin’s healing and they’re bathing regularly.

**

“We have to check that out,” Dot says, and though Kirin is quick to agree, everyone else splits.

“You want to head toward a giant fireball?” Rachel questions. “Fuck that.”

Leah agrees with the sentiment. They can see the beach from the roof, can see the ocean in the moonlight, and whatever blew up burns brightly in the sand.

“There wasn’t anything on the beach earlier,” Ivan informs.

“How’d you know?” Toni asks.

“I was up here. Writing,” Ivan replies.

“What if something crashed?” Fatin asks. “Like a helicopter? Shouldn’t we check that out?”

“Maybe not in the fucking dark,” Scotty pipes up. “You really think a helicopter just took a nosedive onto our beach?”

“Crazier shit has happened,” Dot points out. “I’m going. Who’s with me?”

“I am,” Leah says, barely aware she’s volunteering herself.

“If she goes, I go,” Fatin jumps in.

“Me, Raf, and J will go with you,” Kirin says, flashing Dot a smile. “Everyone else stay here and wait for us to get back.”

But they don’t get back. They don’t see a reason to say goodbyes. They’re gonna check out the fireball and come back. If it is a helicopter, obviously that’ll be significant, and as uneasy as Leah feels, trekking through the woods in the dark with Fatin’s hand resting against her lower back, she doesn’t expect anything to come of the trip. She expects to be back in the bunker within a couple hours, expects to spread out across the two beds she pushed together with Fatin’s help weeks ago, so Leah can continue the Uno tournament with Fatin, Rachel, and Martha until exhaustion forces them to go to sleep.

Leah doesn’t think setting foot on the beach is going to lead to anything special.

It is a helicopter, and the pilots are dead, and the fire’s not burning at nearly the same intensity by the time they reach it. It’s fairly dark, and there’s a cold breeze that has Leah zipping her hoodie and crossing her arms over her chest, and as Kirin starts to ask why the hell a helicopter crashed, he’s tackled from behind. He falls dangerously close to the fire, and Leah’s mind rushes to make sense of the scene unfolding in front of her. They’re all accounted for. Herself, Fatin, and Dot. Kirin, Raf, and Josh. Leah doesn’t recognize the guy that Kirin throws off of him, cursing.

But Kirin, Raf, and Josh sure do.

He – the unknown guy – says something about how they can’t get out of here. They aren’t allowed to leave.

X

This was actually two separate parts that I hadn't figured out how to tie together. And I have no idea where it was going. I can't recall writing this lmao.

[actualadvocacybruh]

The Ukrainians continue to be funny in the midst of a war ….

During their special military operation into the Kursk Oblast they are using local stores and gas stations for topping up on supplies and then leaving ONLINE REVIEWS

So you got some Ukrainian tankers buying gas, food and then leaving a positive review on yelp for your shop

We are also seeing them maintain discipline and not abusing civilians or targeting civilian structures so contrary to Russian and Israeli belief you can actually fight a war without doing a genocide against local populations (who knew that was an option)

Plenty of third party footage of relief supplies being sent out to locals in need

Thousands of conscripts have been captured abandoned by their officers with orders to “fight to the last man” allegedly … proving that the fascists don’t even care about their own soldiers enough to evac them with the officers and police forces

We have confirmed capture of at least TWO T90 tanks as well as shoot downs of even more helicopters

Haven’t seen this level of incompetence since the first days of the war

[pocket-lad]

CH 4- Sarah

Prev ● Masterpost

After Ian explained what happened at Hammond’s mansion, the group decided to stake out the new arrivals.

“I mean we kind of have to, right?” Nick urged. 

They started in the direction they saw the helicopters head toward and followed the sound to the best of their ability. For now, Adelaide stayed on Ian’s shoulder, but she kept her head on a swivel.

There was tension in the air and not much to talk about, which meant Adelaide was soon to be the topic of conversation. It was either that or silence, anyway.

“You said you’re a… borrower?” Eddie’s voice rang out directly behind Adelaide, making her jump. She turned around to face him.

“Yeah,” she said tentatively.

“Okay, so what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Adelaide shot for a teasing, lighthearted tone, but it came out harsh and defensive. She felt bad. Eddie wasn’t prying - he was just making conversation, trying to distract himself and probably the others from what they were about to face. “Um…it means what it sounds like. I borrow things. From Beans.”

“Beans-?”

“Don’t get her started on that one,” Ian warned. Adelaide hit his neck.

“Oh. That sounds…. cool.” Eddie didn’t really know what to think. Cool seemed like a decent enough word for it, but he still had a million questions. Few of them could be formed into coherent thoughts, and none of them made it from his brain to his mouth.

“Not really, but thanks,” Adelaide said.

Eddie gave her an awkward smile and nod, and they fell into silence again. Adelaide hesitantly turned to face forward, but she felt his eyes on her back every so often.

“Why?” Kelly asked after a long period of time. She hopped over a log and only glanced at Adelaide briefly, focused on maintaining her footing. It had been so long that Adelaide didn't realize Kelly was speaking to her and almost forgot what they were talking about.

“What do you mean, why?” Adelaide asked.

“Why do you borrow stuff? Why don’t you just ask my dad?”

Ian laughed underneath her. He listened intently, even though he knew the answer. He understood to some degree why Adelaide needed to feel independent, but she knew that he knew she could handle herself. She knew that he didn’t look down on her for asking for help, so Ian didn’t see the point in risking her life for things that were so easy for him to obtain.

“That’s how I was raised. I find my own stuff. Take care of myself. I can’t say I’d be anything more than a pet if I relied on him for everything,” Adelaide explained. She was vaguely aware that everyone listened as she spoke, but she had to focus solely on the person she was talking to or she’d start shaking again.

Three people in the group reacted to her explanation at the same time.

Nick laughed.

“Uh, I want it noted that I do not, um, agree with that,” Ian said.

“So you have a whole family living in the walls with you?” Kelly asked, awed at the image of a whole group of tiny people living in her dad’s walls, likening it to The Secret Life of Arrietty .

Since Nick’s laugh was condescending and since she’d heard Ian’s argument plenty of times, Adelaide chose to answer Kelly’s question, even if it was mildly painful.

“No, no, um… it’s just me,” she said, a hint of that pain peeking through.

“Oh...That sucks.”

Sarah piped up for the first time in a while. “You live in the walls? Like… in Ian’s walls?”

Shit .

Adelaide looked for any way out of this. She couldn’t just lie, though she was very tempted. That wouldn’t do in the long run. After trying to form a sentence multiple times, all that came out was a measly, quiet, “Yeahhhhh…….” followed by a sigh.

“Ian, how long has this been going on? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t - it wasn’t my decision to make,” he shrugged, sending Adelaide into his neck, who punched him back in annoyance.

“As much as I’d love to blame him, it really wasn’t his fault,” Adelaide admitted. She felt herself getting twitchy and weird again, and she still couldn’t maintain eye contact. The best she could do was talk. “He’s been really excited for me to meet you, and I’ve been really excited to meet you too. I just get… nervous around Beans, so I never found the right time.”

“Well, I don’t think you have anything to be nervous about with us,” Sarah said pointedly. This would hopefully ease Adelaide, but let the others know that she was not to be messed with. A small and unexpected blossom of attachment had formed, and that meant Adelaide was now under Sarah’s protection. Maybe it was the way Sarah wanted to study her. Maybe it was the way she saw fear in both Adelaide’s eyes and in the way she held herself. Maybe it was simply the fact that they were both women, and women have to look out for each other in a male-dominated world. It was likely all three of those things.

Adelaide was oblivious to all of these thoughts bouncing around in Sarah’s head, but her shoulders released a hair of tension when she was sure Sarah wasn’t mad.

***

Adelaide was in the middle of borrowing when the front door swung open. She was over by the TV, picking at loose threads in the rug to weave into fabric or whatever else she could think of.

She tensed up, but didn’t make a break for the walls. For the longest time, Adelaide would do that when the door opened, regardless of who was there. Over time, and with a ton of assurance from Ian, she learned that the man rarely brought guests home. If by some chance he did, it was almost always a woman, and they almost always immediately went to the bedroom. So normally, Adelaide didn’t have to worry.

The only recent exception was his daughter, Kelly, but that’s something they’d talked about beforehand and she’d always gotten a heads up when it happened.

It was hard to suppress instinct though, especially after a decade, so when the front door opened, Adelaide’s senses automatically went on high alert. Usually it was useless. She’d calm down, she’d say hello to Ian, and continue on her way.

Never in her life had Adelaide been so grateful for this instinct until today. She heard Ian’s usual rumble, but this time, there was another voice in the mix. She could hardly believe it, so much so that she was rooted in place from the shock. Ian making friends? Unheard of.

Then reality set in. Adelaide had to hide. Fast. There wasn’t any time to speculate who it might be, but she’d find out soon enough anyway. The couch that concealed the closest entrance into the walls was too far away at this point. With so few options, Adelaide bent down and crawled underneath the TV stand.

Just in time, too. Multiple pairs of footsteps made their way into the living room and two giant beings sat down on the couch. Adelaide could only see their feet from her hiding spot, but if she wasn’t mistaken, those were women’s shoes. Great.

Why were they in the living room? Adelaide got the sense that she needed to be literally anywhere else right now, but she was low on options. However, the longer she took to make a decision, the more she realized the two giants were just talking. Interesting.

Regardless, Adelaide didn’t want to eavesdrop, and more importantly, the space under the TV stand was dusty and disgusting. She used to keep it clean back when she was regularly borrowing and Ian didn’t know of her existence. It was a good place to hide, and she’d actually used it a couple times when she was in a bind, but it had been so long since then, so it had plenty of time to accumulate mountains of dust.

“Let me - let me get you something to drink,” Ian said. Adelaide watched his feet and felt the normal shaking of the floor as he walked away. She decided this was an opportunity to take a good look at the woman so, very cautious, Adelaide’s head emerged from underneath the stand.

The woman had long red hair and a pretty face. Her clothes were simple and practical. Not super tall as far as Beans went, and she had a casual confidence about her. She glanced around, taking in every detail of Ian’s house.

That was all Adelaide had time to analyze before she felt Ian coming back. She heard him set two glasses down on the table, and it was then that she knew she’d be here for a while.

Eventually, Adelaide had to lay down, since her neck was getting sore from bending over for so long. The next hour was spent oscillating between guilt and boredom. She tried her best to tune the giants out, but boredom would win over and she’d tune back in. Then, she’d feel guilty for eavesdropping and tune them back out again, and the cycle continued for eons.

Adelaide busied herself with clearing the dust from underneath the stand and compiling it all into one corner so she could at least breathe. After that was done and with nothing else left to do, she begrudgingly layed back down again.

The parts of the conversation she did tune into were pretty interesting. Almost anything was interesting when you lived in the walls, though.

The woman’s name was Sarah. She was able to keep up with Ian’s wit, shooting him down every time he tried to make an advance and returning his snark every time he gave it to her. She asked about Jurassic Park a lot, to which Ian got quiet and uncomfortable.

She gathered that Sarah was some kind of scientist that specialized in dinosaurs. Something about an emerging field that had nothing to do with fossils and everything to do with the real thing. How that was possible, Adelaide had no idea. She thought dinosaurs were limited to that one island. She hoped they were limited to that one island.

Ian even tried his chaos theory bit with her - the one with the water.

“Now, let’s say a drop of water falls on your hand. Which way is the drop going to roll off?”

“I don’t know,” Sarah said. She knew Ian wanted an answer only so that he could prove her wrong, so she didn’t give him one.

Ian let the drop fall, and it rolled off her thumb. He wiped away the water. “Okay, freeze your hand,” he said. “Don’t move. I’ll do the same thing, start with the same place again. Which way now?”

Adelaide was positive he was saying this the same way, word for word, as when he did it to Ellie and when he did it to her. Did he have it memorized? She wouldn't doubt it.

“I don’t know,” Sarah said again.

“Give me a guess-”

“There’s too many variations. You drop the water again in what you think is the same place, but it has to be at least a little bit off. And rubbing the water away changes the landscape of my hand, not to mention the thousands of other things that have changed microscopically in the last ten seconds.”

Ian was at a loss for words. Adelaide nearly cackled, impressed with Sarah’s ability to shut him down like that. She wanted to commend the woman herself.

“Right, yes, exactly,” Ian said as if he was excited by her explanation. As if it didn’t tear his ego into pieces.

At some point, they put on a movie. It was then that Adelaide could no longer hear them, the TV overpowering everything with how close it was. This also meant she was in for at least another two hours. What was even more frustrating was that the Beans were almost definitely not watching the movie, too preoccupied with…other stuff.

Adelaide let out a frustrated growl. She could’ve gotten so much done today, but instead she would spend hours feeling cramped under a TV stand.

She thought about sneaking out multiple times. She was semi-confident she could get past Sarah if she timed it correctly and kept her senses about her, but Ian would see her immediately. He would either send Sarah home or start acting weird, and Adelaide didn’t want to do that to him. Plus, the longer she waited, the worse it felt.

Adelaide listened to the movie, trying to pull any meaning from what she could hear. There were lots of guns and fighting and car noises, and the dialogue was bad and nonsensical, so all her efforts were pretty useless.

The feeling of shoes caught Adelaide’s attention, and the sudden lack of sound meant someone turned the TV off.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Ian asked.

“We’ll see,” Sarah said, and Adelaide could have sworn she registered teasing in her voice.

That didn’t matter, though! Adelaide was getting out! Sarah was leaving!

Excitedly, Adelaide shot up from her sprawled out position on the floor, absolutely banging her head on the low ceiling of the furniture. Her body unintentionally let out a grunt at the impact, and she froze. The room got deadly silent.

Adelaide held her breath, waiting for something to happen.

“Let me walk you out,” Ian said distractedly, and Adelaide knew he knew where she was.

The footsteps receded and the sound of the front door indicated the departure of at least one of the Beans. She debated on sprinting across the living room now, but something about massive feet stomping around in the dark, Ian or not, stopped her.

Only a single pair of footsteps returned. A light flicked on, which did hardly anything from underneath her shelter, and the feet stopped right in front of her.

They were so close! If she wasn’t so eager, if she didn’t sit up so fast, they wouldn’t be in this situation. Adelaide would have waited for Ian to go to bed, then she was free to go home and pretend like none of this ever happened. Alas, she now had to face the consequences of her own actions.

“How long have you been there?” Ian’s voice rang out. He stood, unmoving, so Adelaide stared at his shoes.

Maybe if she didn’t respond, he’d think he imagined it. Houses made noises all the time. Her hopes were dashed when Ian kneeled down. He laid himself flat on his stomach and peered in. Seeing nothing in the dark space, he pulled something out and turned it on.

“Ow!” Adelaide cried when a sudden, bright light assaulted her vision. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered them with her hand. She wondered if Ian killed her and she was now staring at the bright, white light of heaven.

“Ah,” Ian realized. He shifted the flashlight so it was on an angle. It still illuminated Adelaide, but it wasn’t pointed directly at her.

Adelaide blinked her eyes open and spots danced across her vision. The light was still bright, but nothing worse than the average overhead room light. “What the hell?” she winced.

“How long?” Ian pushed. He didn’t sound mad, but he didn’t sound particularly happy, either. Exasperated was probably the right word for it.

“Uh, when did Sarah get here?”

Ian slowly closed his eyes and pinched his brow. “Around seven.”

“Then probably since seven,” Adelaide admitted.

“Can you come out here?”

Adelaide considered it. “No, you’re mad at me.” She didn’t think he would do anything, but after spending hours under a TV stand, her patience was wearing thin and she didn’t want to deal with a lecture.

“I’m not mad,” Ian said calmly.

“I don’t believe you.”

Ian’s face disappeared over the edge of the ceiling, and Adelaide thought he might actually leave her alone. Unfortunately, his face was replaced by his hand, and it was coming directly at her.

Adelaide kicked at the grasping fingers, trying to get him to back off, but they just kept coming. One eventually snagged both her legs, pinning them together, and she gasped. Something about the way Ian couldn’t see her yet still grabbed at her made her nervous. Especially since he caught hold of a really delicate part of her body.

Before she knew it, Adelaide was being dragged backward, unable to stop such a strong force. She clawed at the floor, searching for purchase on anything, but it was hard-wood. Even if she managed to grab onto something, she’d probably end up hurting herself. The fact that her efforts meant nothing was humbling and a little scary.

The world opened up around her, and when the movement stopped, she found herself dangling upside down in front of Ian’s face. It was enough time to register the upset look he gave her, but she was abruptly lowered into his palm.

Adelaide sat there and crossed her arms, her hair disheveled and her clothes rumpled and her eyes still adjusting.

“Why?” was all Ian asked.

“Why? Why did you blind me and grab me and dangle me? Is that what you’re asking?” she clarified sarcastically.

Ian didn’t fall for the bait. “Why were you, um, underneath my TV?”

“Can you put me down?” Adelaide asked. She didn’t like being talked down to. Ian obliged, setting her down next to the TV. She was still below eye level, but much less so. And she could confidently stay standing now that she had solid ground under her feet.

Ian stared at her, waiting for an answer to his question.

“If it’s any consolation, once you turned on the movie, I couldn’t hear a thing.”

He still stared, and she shifted awkwardly. “What was I supposed to do? You came home with someone. I wasn’t near the walls, I had to hide, this was the best option, and I had to wait you out. There’s not really that much to it.”

“Uh, let me know next time and I’ll - and I’ll fix it.”

Adelaide felt like rolling her eyes at Ian ‘I’ll-Fix-It’ Malcolm. “You would’ve been weird about it. I didn’t want to ruin it for you. You never have real people over.”

“I uh, I appreciate the, um…the concern, but I’m a big boy.”

“I swear I wasn’t eavesdropping. Mostly. Believe it or not, I actually don’t want to hear your boring, weird Human Bean conversations……On a completely unrelated note, do we think we like Sarah?” Adelaide had to admit to curiosity. She only knew about ‘dates’ from brief glimpses at the TV back in the motel. Her parents didn’t do dates. Borrowers didn’t do dates. This was a completely foreign concept, and she wanted to live vicariously through the only person she could.

Ian raised his eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t eavesdropping.”

“I said mostly.”

“Yeah, I think…I think we like…Sarah. We’ll see.”

“She’s pretty.”

“Very pretty,” Ian agreed.

“What do you mean ‘we’ll see’?” Adelaide prodded.

“Ohhh, they never last. That Sarah is…that Sarah is smart. She’ll see through me in no time.” Ian said this unbothered, no trace of a negative emotion. He said it as if it were just a fact of life.

“Don’t say that!” He was giving up before he even tried!

Ian smiled at her pitifully. Adelaide was completely oblivious to the Human dating world, and even more oblivious to Ian’s bad habits within it. “You’ll see,” he said. He stood up and reached out to ruffle Adelaide’s hair.

On principle, Adelaide batted at the finger overhead. It always came so quickly and without warning. She spoke up about it a long time ago, telling him how it hurt, so ever since then, he’d been gentler about it. He didn’t realize (or didn’t care) that her gripe was with the fact that he did it to begin with. But since he was gentle and since it no longer hurt, Adelaide didn’t have any ammo to get him to stop.

“You want a lift?” Ian asked, holding out his hand and ignoring Adelaide’s protests.

Adelaide’s grumbling slowly came to a stop. “No, I’m okay, thanks.” She lightly kicked at his hand to push it away. “But you should invite her back sometime.”

“Why? You want to talk to her?”

“Haha, yeah. Really funny. But seriously, maybe she’ll be different. You never know.”

“I always know,” he said cockily.

“Sure, whatever you say, Mr. Chaos Theory.”

Ian looked dumbfounded, and since he didn’t have a comeback, he pointed at her and said, “I’m going to bed. Stop eavesdropping.”

Adelaide could tell he’d lost all power in the conversation, so he put an end to it. She chuckled, happy she had the ability to do that. It was a hard thing to pull off. “Roger that,” she said, and he walked off.

Once he was gone, Adelaide wasted no time pulling out her hook and scaling down the cliff. She wanted to go home as soon as possible.

While she did that, she thought about Sarah. Adelaide just assumed she’d automatically dislike any new Bean on principle, but Sarah was charming. She’d have to do more snooping, and she obviously wasn’t going to introduce herself until way down the road, if Sarah was still around. Strangely, Adelaide found herself hoping she would be.

Adelaide and Ian were on really good terms at this point, he was starting to reconcile with one of his kids, and now it was possible he’d just found himself a love interest. She was happy for him.

All her life, Adelaide was a stickler for routine. It was what kept her alive. But now, with her basic needs provided for and her life changing in so many different ways, she welcomed a little (emphasis on a little) spontaneity into her life. Whether it would all work out in the end - only time would tell, but she was nervous and excited and every other emotion possible for this new chapter in their lives.

.

Next