#hip-hop helicopter

[pixelnoctis]

Black Helicopters

[callofdudes]

Can have funny Headcannons for Ghost, Gaz, Alejandro, and Soaps see their s/o who came back from long mission and they are cover in dirt and mud with very grumpy expression walking pass and saying: “Don’t. Ask. Or Say. Any. Thing.”

Here ya go! 😄

Ghost 💀

Ghost hadn't seen you for a whole month. Your mission was supposed to only have lasted a few weeks, but you were being held up longer than expected and he wasn't getting told why.

Honestly he was a bit worried for you, not having much information on your whereabouts.

Plus this was your first solo mission, it made him even more worried.

He felt relief, utter relief when he was addressed down to the landing strip a couple yards from base. You were on that helicopter. He couldn't wait to see you again.

He waited there, watching the helicopter come in and land, the back ram opening and hitting the ground.

And you came out....

Oh my.

Ghost stared as you tromped down the ramp. Your clothes were ruffled and you were covered head to toe in mud. Sticks in your hair, caked, drying mud on your cheeks. And that scowl. A scowl for the books...

You noticed him and trudged over.

He opens his mouth to speak and you just keep walking. "Don't. Ask. Or. Say. Anything." You hiss angrily.

It didn't take him much time to figure out you had headed straight for the showers. You were in there for over an hour, picking away at the mud and twigs in your hair. Scrubbing yourself clean in every crevice and corner. Shivering when you found leaves and mud places you'd never want it.

Simon looks from you over to some of the soldiers offloading equipment. They shrug, giving him some information and leaving him to his own devices.

He snickered, he could only imagine what happened.

But finally you came out, refreshed and less disgusting.

You redressed in fresh clothes and walked out, spotting Simon leaned against the building entrance. You playfully scowled at him.

"How did it go?" He leaned off the wall and approaches you, slipping his hands around your hips.

You scoff, rolling up his mask and sinking your lips to his, missing him after the exhausting mission.

"You'd never believe me."

He hums, pulling away and kissing your nose. "Try me."

"I'll tell you later. For now, I just need rest."

"Fair enough, I'll let you go then."

"Thank you."

You kiss him again and head off to your bunk to catch some rest. You needed it.

Gaz 🧢

Gaz was excited to have you back. After two weeks finally you were coming home! He was so relieved to have you back it made his heart spark to life.

Unfortunately your trip was delayed so he was waiting out on the tarmac for you a little over 20 minutes.

And then the helicopter arrived. He smiled, ready to welcome you into his loving embrace, kiss you all over and tell you have much he missed you.

His smile disappeared when the lift of the helicopter came down and you walked out.

He most certainly would not be hugging you...

You had an angry scowl, covered in mud and dirt. Some of it still looked fresh. Your gun was jammed and cakes in the stuff.

You walked over when you saw him, face set on one hell of a glare.

"Well-"

"Not. A. Word Kyle Garrick."

Kyle shut his mouth and watched you pass by. Boy, you'd think he was responsible for all that mud.

He wouldn't ask, but he'd help. So he followed you back to the showers at a safe distance - he's not crazy.

You pulled off all your gear and hopped in the shower, growling and whining about all the mud.

Kyle went after you, stepping in behind you and cupping your waist.

"Kyle-!"

"Just miss you." He decides on that, grabbing your shampoo to try and help you wash the mud out. You whine, never able to say no to Kyle's head massages.

"Don't judge me."

"I didn't say anything love." He rinses some mud off your shoulder and kisses it. You sigh, leaning back into him. "Thank you."

Alejandro🎖️

"Anytime love."

"You did look ridiculous though."

You sigh loudly, you couldn't argue that, you probably had.

Alejandro misses you. And you know what happens when Alejandro misses you. He missed his one and only so much. His other half.

But, unfortunately you were out on a mission with Rodolfo. Alejandro trusted his soldiers well, especially you two. Some of his best soldiers, he had no doubt you would do well.

He has gotten word the trucks had picked you up just north of one of the lakes by the building you were raiding. And you were now headed home.

Alejandro was happy to see both of you. To know you were alive and well after four days. (Yes, he's a bit impatient if he isn't on the mission too ☹️)

He was waiting in stance when you both arrived, ready to greet you. He smiles when the door opened. And out stepped Rodolfo.

Oh my.

Rodolfo was absolutely drenched. He was covered in a blanket, his gear stuck with wire and his hair was all out of place.

"Rodolfo." Alejandro greeted him, wrapping his arms around his shivering friend. "What happened??"

Rodolfo shook his head. 'Im sorry colonel, the mission was a dud..."

Alejandro frowned. "Where is y/n, are you both alright??"

Rodolfo nodded.

And sure enough, out you came from the truck. Slathered in mud. Absolutely caked in it. Some of it was still dripping off your uniform. You had a scowl, the scowl Alejandro only saw a few times through your cheery disposition.

You stomped over, arms crossed. Mud all down your body.

"Mi amor-"

"Don't. Say. A. Word. Don't. Ask."

Alejandro shut his mouth right away. You stomped past him toward the showers leaving him a bit dumbstruck.

"Rodolfo, you should go wash up with them, no?"

Rodolfo nodded. "Yes colonel."

Alejandro figured out what had happened from the soldiers and waited till you retired to your room to talk to you. You flopped down on your shared bed and groan, snuggling up to him now that you were clean.

"I'm not mad the mission went bad, if that's on your mind, my little mud monster."

You shake your head. "Just... Hold me. Please?"

Alejandro pulls you into his arms and kisses your head. "Of course mi amor."

Soap 🧼

Today you were back! The sergeant is coming back!! My babe for life is returning!

Johnny skipped along the hallways. After two weeks you were home!! You were home! He'd been worrying sick about you but now he has nothing to fear.

He skipped out across the yard and wandered down to the tarmac where your helicopter was landing.

He couldn't wait to see you again, make out with you until his lips were sore and his jaw locked up.

You stepped off the helicopter and he physically recoiled. It was like he could smell you from there. Oh my goodness you looked awful.

You were covered in drying and dripping mud. You were scowling as you approached him.

"Not. A. Fucking. Word. MacTavish!!" You snap at him.

He blinks at you, whispering, "Damn, you smell bad."

Your eye twitches and you yell in exasperation. Stomping over to the showers. Johnny looks between you and a few recruits who shrugged, too afraid to ask you on the plane.

Johnny falls in line after you and makes a break for the shower where he knows you'll be.

He waits outside for you, smiling when you come out. "Look at you, all nice and clean!"

You roll your eyes and walk over to him, letting his wrap his hands around your waist. "it's good to have my love back, not whatever sludge monster took your place." He grins.

You smack him and press your lips to his, pulling him in. He hums excitedly, pushing for his tongue in your mouth. Lapping and exploring you all over again. He missed you so much.

When you pull away he's panting. "You're so amazing, sludge monster or not."

"Johnny. Shut your mouth and kiss me, I had s long fucking mission, this is the least you could do for me."

"Yeah, you're right." He cups your jaw and begins to kiss you again.

[empresskylo]

beneath the mask ✩ chapter 10 ⬅ch.9

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | violence. sexual assault implications. blood. wc 5.4k ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | hehe enjoy

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

…uzbekistan…

you woke to arabic voices, your eyes squinting open in discomfort. your head was pounding and your stomach thrummed with a wave of nausea. you quickly remembered you had been hit with the butt of a rifle, right beneath your ribs. you leaned over in the moving vehicle and dry heaved. 

“innahā mustayqiẓatun,” she’s awake .

you sat back up, the realization of what had happened hitting you. you went to wipe your mouth and found your hands were bound together with a rope. you groaned and awkwardly carried out the action with your hands linked. 

laswell . you quickly looked around, not seeing laswell in the the truck with you. you were in the backseat beside a man who was speaking hurriedly to the man in front, driving. you looked out the window, the town rushing by. 

“where’s laswell?” you asked, your voice hoarse. the men ignored you. “my friend. where is she?” you said with a bit more force hoping one of them would answer you. 

they continued to talk as if you weren’t there. you ground your teeth together in annoyance. you rested your head against the window, the cold of the glass helping with the tension throbbing in your skull. 

your body was still pumping with adrenaline and you were finding it hard to sit still. your fingers wound themselves together, your leg bouncing up and down. you hoped laswell was okay. you also hoped she was going to the same place you were… you didn’t want to be alone, as cruel as that might be. you were trapped in this truck with three men—three men who kidnapped you. you had no idea where they were taking you or what they were going to do with you. the panic hit you like a slap in the face.

you tried to breathe slowly, letting out low breaths, trying to steady your nerves. it did little to help. 

would the others be coming to rescue you and laswell? surely they would. shepherd wouldn’t let them give up on you two. at least not laswell, she was far too important. and price wouldn’t stand for it. 

they were coming. you prayed to god they were coming. 

“lieutenant. it’s farah. it’s time.” 

“rog. wheels down in one.” ghost voice was hoarse as he answered farah over the comms. “nik, convoy’s inbound. we’re on.”

“copy that,” nikolai responded. “over the hlz now.”

ghost’s heart rate continued to rise the longer you and laswell were kept hostage. he clenched the gun at his hip and patted himself down, making sure he had all he would need to get the two of you back. he also found it hard to stay still, his body flooded with adrenaline. 

“good. set ‘er down and hold,” ghost said. he walked to the door of the helicopter, looking between gaz and soap. “gaz, you stay in the heli on overwatch. we’ll work our way up the line.”

“roger that. let’s thin the herd, get laswell and iaso back.”

when the helicopter landed only moments later, ghost and soap connected fists with gaz as they hopped out. on the ground, dirt whipping around them from the blades of the helicopter, a woman on a rusted bike sat waiting for the two men. 

“hey, lt., sergeant,” she called out, greeting the men. 

“farah. thanks for the assist,” soap replied when ghost didn’t respond, noticing how he had tensed up.

“we share a common enemy,” farah said, nodding at the men.

“and friends in need,” ghost said a bit harshly. “are you ready?”

“all set. see you down the road!” she slid up her mask and pulled get goggles over her eyes. she looked so self-assured, ready to take down men twice her size. ghost thought about how you would have liked her. 

“all stations… we’re on the move!” ghost called as he and soap jogged up to the beige truck waiting for them. 

the two men jumped in the bed of the truck, ghost slapping the top of the roof to let the driver know they were on board and ready to go. 

the procession of three trucks and multiple motorcycles took off down the dirt road. 

“all stations, we’re up—comms check…” farah’s voice rang in ghost’s ear. 

“good copy,” ghost grunted. 

“check,” gaz responded from 30 feet in the air, his sniper at the ready as he pointed it out the door of the helicopter. 

“loud and clear,” nikolai said. 

“the al-qatala convoy just passed us. we’ll be right behind them,” farah urged. 

“copy. nik, use the ravine for cover. we’ve got one shot to rescue them.”

“roger that,” nik responded to ghost. 

“what vehicle are they in?” gaz asked. 

“al-qatala has iaso in a black suv, laswel in the similar one right in front of hers. near the front of the convoy.” farah’s voice echoed. 

“we hit the escort vehicles first. then we secure laswell and iaso before aq can reach the border.” ghost commanded. “soldiers, move in!” 

gaz began to fire shots at aq that were standing in the back of truck beds. ghost gripped his gun as he aimed the barrel toward the aq vehicles up ahead. he was too far back to get a good shot and growled in irritation. 

ghost leaned over the side of the truck, shouting to the man driving, his window down. “get me up beside one of the aq trucks!”

the driver nodded and stepped on the gas. “what’re ya doin’?” soap asked ghost. 

“gettin’ the girls back,” he said before stepping onto the top of the truck and running down the front onto the hood, immediately jumping and landing on the back of an aq truck. one of the men stood and came at ghost, but gaz was faster, shooting a bullet through his skull before he could reach him. 

“thanks,” ghost said.

“don’t mention it.”

ghost’s fist came slamming down onto the other aq, shoving him off the back of the truck. he sheathed his gun momentarily, maneuvering himself over the edge of the truck, his hand clutching tightly to the metal, his other hand opening the driver’s door. the man shouted something in arabic as ghost grabbed the collar of his shirt and ripped him from the truck. the man went tumbling on the pavement, his hands coming up over his head as the bikes raced around him. 

ghost pushed himself into the driver’s seat with a huff. he yanked the door shut and floored it. 

“jesus, lt.,” soap breathed, watching the events unfold. 

ghost would have chuckled at soap’s astonishment, but all that was on his mind was getting you back unharmed. 

of course ghost cared about laswell. he had worked with her for a while now, and he’d never admit it, but he cared about price too. and price and laswell were close. price had been fuming when he found out what happened on this mission—pissed at himself for not being there, as if he could have done something to stop laswell from getting taken if he hadn’t asked ghost to take his position. 

but laswell wasn’t ghost’s main objective. it was you. you were who he was about to slaughter through walls of men for. it was you his heart pounded in nerves for. he felt so sick when he thought about what they might be doing to you that he almost had to lean over to retch. 

and laswell—while out of practice—was a trained killer. you, on the other hand, had only started to take combat training seriously the past few weeks. the thought made ghost’s chest constrict painfully tight. if they put one hand on you…

he let out a shallow breath, turning the wheel to the truck abruptly, avoiding civilian cars while trying to move up the procession of aq trucks. 

soap had an eye on ghost’s truck and saw the way he was swerving between oncoming cars to get closer to the front. soap almost regretted his conversation with ghost earlier. he was worried it had gotten through to him—that ghost was ready to risk his life, acting far too rashly, to clear his conscience. 

ghost spotted the black suv farah had mentioned earlier up ahead. it was pretty far off in the distance and with aq trucks clogging the road, and oncoming traffic coming from the other direction, ghost slammed his hand on the wheel in frustration. it was going to take too long for him to get up close. 

“throwing molotov!” farah’s voice rang in ghost’s ears, bringing him back to the moment. he saw the truck behind him go up in flames in his side mirror. 

“heh-heh… i missed farah,” nikolai laughed. 

the commotion in his ears faded to a rumble. ghost was focusing on how to get to you before it was too late, everything else was just background noise to him. he heard nikolai and gaz yelling in his ears but nothing was getting through to him. 

an aq truck pulled up beside him and ghost immediately pulled his gun and began shooting. the truck stuttered backward before pulling back up and firing at him again. ghost ducked and swerved the vehicle. he slammed the side of his truck into the other, catching them off guard and using that as an opportunity to shoot back at them. before he could reload, the enemy truck exploded, turning into a ball of flames. 

he heard farah laughing over the comms. jesus, she was intense, and ghost was thankful for it. 

the further he drove, the farther you seemed to get from him. civilian vehicles were only getting in the way, the aq trucks swerving all over the road, preventing ghost and his other men from getting past them. 

a car exploded before ghost, making him grip the wheel tightly, trying to turn out of the way. that wasn’t an aq truck…

“they’re taking down civilian vehicles! blocking the roads!”

shit. 

you heard the explosions going off somewhere in the distance behind you. you turned to look out the back window and saw a large commotion, vehicles going all over the road, a procession of motorcycles with riders shooting men in trucks. 

a feeling of relief swam through you— they came. 

you continued to watch, unable to do anything else. you observed as a car that was rushing in the opposite direction blew up, rotating onto its back and igniting in flames. 

“wait… those are just civillians,” you muttered to yourself. “hey! you’re killing innocent people!” you shouted. you couldn’t believe it. they were taking innocent lives, completely uncaring, their only objective was to block the roads. 

you turned to the man beside you in astonishment, ready to yell again, when his hand came down on your face, slapping you across the cheek. your head flew in the opposite direction, your lips parting in a gasp. 

“no more talking,” he said in a heavy accent. 

you gulped, looking forward. you licked your lips and could taste the blood from your busted lip. the other men laughed as they looked at you in the rearview mirror, muttering something you couldn’t understand in arabic. 

you were going to have to be smarter about this. you sat silently in your seat. you began to worry that your teammates wouldn’t be able to get to you in time. there were a lot of aq vehicles trailing behind you. you weren’t sure how they’d manage to get through them all. 

you heard the engine of a helicopter and you turned, looking out one of the back windows again. your jaw dropped. oh my god, was that gaz? gaz was fucking hanging from a rope attached to the helicopter, upside down, continuing to shoot at enemy soldiers. you gasped when he almost swung right into a truck. your heart raced as you watched him. 

a bend in the road cut off your vision and you faced forward again. you didn’t want anyone risking their life for you. as much as you wanted rescuing, you didn’t want it at the expense of others. the image of gaz swinging wildly in the air was plastered in your mind. these men were going to get themselves killed. and it was going to be your fault. 

ghost felt like he was running out of options as you rapidly approached the border. 

“gaz, nik—my spotters are reporting an aq roadblock ahead.” farah’s voice came in through the comms in a level-headed voice. 

“affirm, i see it,” nikolai responded. “you might have to ram through.”

“crash it. kill as many as you can,” ghost echoed into his mic. 

ghost gripped his steering wheel, stepping on the gas as he approached the roadblock. he spotted gaz coming up right behind him in an aq truck. 

both men tore through the aq men, trudging past the trucks lined up to block them, destroying anything in their wake. ghost felt beyond destructive. he felt lethal.

“nik, i punched through,” gaz said as him and ghost got on the other side of the roadblock. 

“be advised. there is a situation up the road.” nikolai’s voice sent a shiver through ghost. he was just waiting for someone to say your black suv blew up, or crashed, or they lost track of it. 

“aq is deploying mines on the highway!”

“these are civillains, nik,” gaz said in anguish. “aq will burn for this.”

“i’ll bring the matches,” farah chimed in. 

ghost managed to weave between the charred cars, praying he didn’t hit a mine. 

further up the road, ghost swung open his door, timing it just right so when an aq motorcycle rode up right beside him, with great strength, he shoved the man off and hopped on. he watched as the truck ran off the road and crashed into a rocky hill. 

ghost revved the bike’s engine, gaining far more speed than he ever could in the pilfered truck. 

he heard gaz and nik conversing, then soap yelling over the comms for gaz to get on board the truck bed he was in. 

ghost floored it down the road, watching as the procession ahead of him split off in two different directions. 

“shit! they’re splitting them up!” soap called out. 

“who do we follow?” gaz asked as he picked up the grenade launcher.

ghost grit his teeth. “soap, gaz—follow laswell. i’ll follow iaso.” 

“you sure, lt.?”

“we don’t have time to argue about this, soap. just go.”

soap and gaz looked at one another before nodding. the convoy split up. soap and gaz followed laswell and ghost went off the road, following the black suv you were trapped inside. the car was going too fast for the others to keep up. ghost was glad he got on a bike, it was the only way he’d be able to get up to you in time. 

ghost’s own words rang in his head, the ones he had said to you in the bar. the words that hurt you. the words he had regretted ever since they left his tongue. you were going to die thinking he hated you. thinking he used you. 

ghost clenched the handlebars to the bike tighter, narrowing his eyes as he hurried behind you. he was going to get you back even if it killed him.

you knew you were going off the road the second the vehicle began to bump up and down. you tried to clutch onto something to keep from falling off the seat, but it was difficult with your hands tied. 

the men in the suv with you were yelling at one another. then the stout man beside you leaned out his window and began shooting. 

you turned to look out the window. your stomach dropped. the convoy was gone. you only saw one motorcycle trailing behind you. the others must have split off. this was their plan. to split you and laswell up, thus splitting up the convoy of rescuers. 

you tried not to let the fact that only one person was trailing you to hurt your feelings. now was not the time to be sensitive. but you couldn’t help but wonder if laswell had the rest of your team following her. it made sense, though. she was laswell… and you were just…iaso.

you yelped as the vehicle took an abrupt turn, making you slam into the man beside you. he shoved you off and rushed to reload his gun. you looked behind you in horror, realizing it was ghost on the bike, finally able to make out his mask as he edged closer. 

the man beside you went to lean back out the window, ready to send bullets in ghost’s direction. you acted before you could think, using your tied hands to claw at his back. you gripped onto the cotton material of his shirt and yanked him backward. he was so caught off guard from the sudden attack that he stumbled and crashed back on the seat beside you. 

he said something in arabic then hit you across the face again. your head flew back and hit the edge of the door. you groaned in pain. you squeezed your eyes shut, your head throbbing. 

they took a sharp turn and you were jostled back, opening your eyes in response. the man in the passenger’s seat leaned out his window now and began to shoot his pistol. you heard him make a celebratory noise and you almost broke your neck turning around to look for ghost. 

ghost’s bike skidded out from under him, sending him crashing down. the bullet had blown a hole in his tire. 

“no,” you said softly. your lips trembling. he was your last hope. 

you watched full of dread as the truck carried you away. ghost sat up and brushed himself off. he looked out after you, standing in the middle of nowhere, at a loss of what to do. 

tears began to slide down your cheek.

“i lost her,” ghost said over the comms in a newfound sense of defeat. soap had never heard his voice sound quite like that. 

there was a moment of silence before ghost heard ruffling and then soap’s voice. 

“come again, lt.?”

ghost was walking back from where he came, following the tracks in the dirt. “iaso. she got away.”

again there was radio silence. 

“im on my way,” ghost heard farah say. 

“farah—”

she cut ghost off. “i started trailing you as soon as we picked off the remaining aq trucks. we’re almost to you. stay put,” she demanded. 

it wasn’t long before farah was riding up with two other men on bikes. “what happened?” farah asked, her bike skidding to a halt. 

“fuckers blew my tire. they still got iaso.”

farah looked at one of her soldiers and nodded. he hopped off his bike and held it up for ghost. farah laughed as ghost looked confused. “get on. we’re goin’ to get her.”

“laswell?” ghost asked, wanting to know if she had at least made it out okay. 

“soap and gaz got her. she’s safe.”

ghost took in a breath before accepting the bike and getting on. “let's go get her back, lieutenant.”

with a new rush of energy, ghost took off, following the tracks of the suv alongside farah and another soldier. 

“she couldn’t have gotten far!” farah called out. 

when the suv came to a stop, you were quickly escorted out of the vehicle. you stumbled, the men giving you no time to right yourself before they pushed you into a wooden building. the men roughly jostled you through the door, your eyes attempting to adjust to the dark. 

you struggled to make out where you were before the man whose hands were holding your arm shoved you into a small room. you fell to the floor at the sudden force. 

the man spat something at you that you didn’t understand then he slammed the door shut behind him. you were left alone in the room and you tried to sit up. your arm was already bruising from where he held you, and you could feel blood dripping down the side of your face. 

you scooted yourself into the corner and hugged your knees to your chest, your wrists beginning to burn as they constantly rubbed against the binding rope. 

you tried to hold back the wave of tears but you failed. you hoped they made it to kate. you hoped she wasn’t going through the same thing you were right now. though, if she was, she was no doubt coping much better than you. 

you looked around the room, trying to clear your vision from tears by blinking repeatedly. the room was mostly empty except for a chair and a lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was an interrogation room. 

the notion plummeted inside your stomach, making you bury your face in your knees. you weren’t going to survive this. you were weak. you were suddenly pissed at price for letting you join his team. you weren’t cut out for this shit. you were a medic, not a damn fighter. 

minutes ticked by and your tears finally dried up. the longer you sat, the more fear was instilled inside you. you regretted cursing price out already, knowing it wasn’t his fault any of this happened to you. usually, you were good under extreme pressure, but that was only when it came to medical stuff. not when you were being kidnapped. 

god, your head was killing you. you hoped you didn’t look as bad as you felt. 

the metal door scrapped along the cement floor as it opened. you looked up in horror as a man stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. he grinned when he looked at you huddled in the corner. 

“you don’t appear to be a soldier,” he said, his accent dripping over every word. 

“i’m a medic,” you said, your voice only slightly wavering. 

the man made a humming sound as he dug around in his pocket. “well, then i’m sorry to have to do this to you, but really, we have no choice.” he gestured around him. the sardonic smile on his face said he didn’t mean any of the words he was saying. he likely couldn’t wait to torture you for information, even when you’d be unable to offer anything useful. he just needed an excuse to hurt someone.

he nudged his head towards the metal chair. “don’t make me have to help you up,” he grunted. 

you quickly got to your feet and sat in the chair, your body shaking with nerves. the man grinned as he dragged the knife he drew from his pocket along your arm. “been awhile since i’ve done this to a woman. i’d be lying if i said i haven’t missed it.”

you swallowed painfully as he trailed the knife up to your neck. “you’re sick,” you spat at him. 

he chuckled. “indeed.”

you knew then that nothing you said was going to help you. this man didn’t care if you knew anything or not. he just wanted to hurt you. you didn’t want to cry, but the tears began to fall again anyway. you tried so hard to keep them in. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

he licked his lips as he watched the tears glide down your cheeks. “pretty thing like you shouldn’t cry,” he said menacingly. 

he took his knife and traced it back down your arm until it reached your hand. “hmm. now, tell me. which finger do you like the least?”

you strangled a sob. he didn’t even interrogate you yet. he was just jumping right to the torture part “please,” you barely managed to get out. 

“oh, i like the way you beg,” he remarked. 

you grit your teeth and pulled your hands away from him. “nowhere to go,” he mocked, using his knife to gesture around the small confines of the room.

“im curious. where have you been getting your intel on hassan’s location?”

you shook your head, pulling back as far away as you could from him.

he tisked. then his hand grabbed your jaw aggressively, making you whimper. his knife came up and slid down the side of your face, this time he applied pressure and you squeezed your eyes shut. the blood wept out from the trail he left and you could feel it slide down your face and drip onto your clothes. 

the man shoved your face back as he let go, flipping his knife in his hand as he watched you with fire in his eyes. “now, i’m going to give you another chance to answer. and trust me, you won’t like what happens if you don’t tell me what i want to hear.”

you opened your mouth but nothing came out. that type of information was classified, so even if you wanted to tell him—which you wouldn’t—you didn’t know. medics didn’t get the rundown of information like that.  

when he realized you weren’t going to speak, he looked you up and down. “hm. you’re not going to be of much help, huh?” he prowled you like a cat would its prey. “how about i get some use out of you before i bloody you up too much, then?”

you didn’t like the sound of that. his knife hooked under the straps of your tactical vest and in a swift movement, he cut it away. the vest fell from you and he tossed it aside to the floor. then his knife was back along the collar of your shirt. he grinned as he ripped through your longsleeved shirt, straight down the center. you silently cried as you felt the air rush to your now exposed skin. the shirt was split down the middle exposing your tank top. 

“please don't,” you pleaded. 

you felt his fingers along the neckline of your tanktop now, his knife slipping under the fabric. you closed your eyes, waiting for the inevitable. 

just as he was about to slide his knife down your shirt, you heard yelling and the sound of guns going off in the distance. the man stopped all movement and turned around. he clearly wasn’t expecting any sort of interruption. without another word, he exited the room to investigate, leaving you alone again. 

you caught your breath, breathing in and out exceptionally fast. you let out a loose breath and looked up at the ceiling, willing your tears to slow. the loss of his grimy fingers on your skin relieved you momentarily.

you tried to calm yourself as you heard more shouting and the firing of weapons. your legs were shaking as you sat there. you tried to use your hands to pull your shredded shirt back over yourself but it was no use. you swore in exhaustion, sinking back into the chair. 

after several minutes, it was finally silent outside the room. your body set in more unease with the silence. 

the door handle shook and the awful sound of it scraping the ground made you wince as the door opened. your eyes immediately went to the door and you kept them locked on the entrance, feeling them go wide as a large figure took up the space. 

you almost choked on your breathing, a strangled sob leaving you as you locked eyes with ghost. you began to cry in relief. in shock. in horror of what almost happened—you were convinced it was really all over for you. that this was it. 

as your body shook, ghost rushed up to you. his voice was hoarse as he said your name, trying to gain your attention. you looked up at him through hot tears and gave a halfhearted smile, your lips trembling. you had held yourself together as best as you could, but now with ghost in front of you, everything came tumbling down. his mask was covered in blood and he seemed to be out of breath.

he tilted his head to the side as he looked at you, his heart squeezing painfully at the sight. your face was bloody and your shirt had been ripped apart. a newfound sense of anger coursed through ghost. 

he pulled out his knife and you flinched, hitting the back of the chair as you created space between the two of you. he took notice but didn’t stop his movements. maybe in any other scenario, he would have tried to calm you down, letting you know he was only using the knife to free you. but just the fact that you shied away from his knife sent him into a fit of rage. he saw that the cut on your face was a long, straight line. he knew then why you were suddenly acting like his knife was the scariest thing in the world. he wished he hadn’t already killed every fucking bastard in there. he would give anything to string up whoever did this to you and give them a slow death. 

he slid the knife between your hands and cut away the rope, setting your hands free. 

you immediately grasped your wrists which had turned red and rubbed raw from the rope. ghost looked down at you, still unable to say anything. your eyes met his again and you took a moment to take him in before you sprang to your feet and wrapped your arms around him. he didn’t hesitate as he hugged you back. 

he felt you sobbing into his neck and his arms tightened around your waist. “you’re okay,” he cooed softly. “you’re safe now. i’ve got you.” his heart pounded harshly in his chest and you could feel it against you.

one of his hands slid up your back and got lost in your hair as he cradled you to his body, your frontside flesh with his, wanting you as close as he could get you. he shut his eyes for a brief moment, letting reality hit him full force. he got to you in time. you were okay. you were going to be okay. 

he sank to his knees in sharp relief with you still wrapped tightly in his grasp. he let you take what you needed from him, his presence bringing you nothing but a sense of safety. he let out a long breath of relief. 

you pulled back slightly, ashamed to look at him. “i-i’m sorry,” you muttered, your hand loosening around him. 

sensing your doubt, he clung to you tighter. “stop,” he said in a voice so soft you felt your heart pinch. “this isn’t your fault.”

you felt like he was reading your thoughts better than you were. his few words hit you harder than he could ever know. you sank back into him, letting yourself go limp as he held you. 

when you both finally separated, ghost helped you to your feet. he appraised your figure and you saw the anger behind his eyes. he moved too quickly for you to take in what he was doing. he slid his vest off and then removed his longsleeved shirt, leaving him in his black undershirt. you watched in astonishment as he pulled the shirt over your head. you slid your arms in as ghost picked up his vest and put it back on. 

your eyes traced his tattooed arm and his scent immediately filled your nose. his shirt was far too big for you, hanging down over your thighs, but you were thankful. you knew it wasn’t your fault, but you were still embarrassed to have your shirt ripped and exposed like that. you didn’t want everyone else to know what happened to you. you almost felt ashamed.

ghost clenched his fist before reaching up and running a finger over the bruise above your eyebrow. “i’m sorry i couldn't get to you sooner,” he said distractedly. 

you looked up at him through your eyelashes. “ghost, don’t. it’s not your fault either.”

he wished you had called him simon. 

before he could think more on the topic and read into your every word, he scooped you up and held you in his arms bridal style. you squealed but settled into his arms quickly. his hand rubbed soft patterns on your back as he carried you out of the building. your arms hooked around his neck, your body shaking less violently, but still shaking nonetheless. 

ghost held you closer and you felt like everything was going to be okay. you rested your head on his chest and let the tears fade out slowly. 

chapter 11 ➡

[writeforfandoms]

State of My Head 3

Find the series masterlist

Here we are folks! The final chapter! There will be a bonus scene soonish, so keep an eye out for that. But this is the last actual chapter, with the promised happy ending. 

Warnings: Canon typical violence, blood, injury, death of a minor character, swearing, shifter behavior, cat behavior, Gaz finally realizes he was an idiot.

Word count: 4.7k

You still hated the helicopter rides. Even though they were necessary. But you still huddled into your seat, holding tight to the grips. At least Gaz and Soap had stopped teasing you, most of the time. 

This op was a little less straightforward. They didn’t have as much intel on this location, which was why Price was sending you in first. There were supposed to be weapons, but there was no clear intel on how many weapons or exactly which kind.

That was part of your job. To find the weapons and report back. 

The heli landed and you hopped out, taking a moment to look around. You’d been dropped off away from the objective - there was a bit of a hike to the buildings. Apparently this was normal for them. 

You were just looking forward to shifting so you could run ahead. 

Price motioned for you to follow him, which you did. By now, this was routine. You weren’t combat trained, so you stayed in the middle of the group. This time, Gaz covered your back. 

Price halted in a good cover spot, and you immediately shifted. 

“Straight back here,” Price reminded you as you crawled out of your clothes, though he didn’t need to and you both knew it. By now, it was just habit.

You meowed softly at him and lifted one paw, tapping his boot twice. And then you trotted off towards your destination. 

The set of three warehouses were a bit removed from the road, big parking lots nearly empty. They had that dilapidated look about them, run down and tagged with spraypaint. They were set outside of town, far enough away that you doubted anyone would be able to hear things going on here. Good for the people of the town, at least. The route from Price’s chosen spot to the parking lots was covered in vegetation, trees growing tall and wild, bushes providing plenty of cover spots. A series of hills rose behind the warehouse, providing further cover. 

It wasn’t a bad location for a secret weapons cache, really. Unremarkable. Isolated enough to operate without suspicion, but still with easy access to a major road. Not bad at all. 

The chain link fencing around the area was new. Still easy enough to squeeze under. Sometimes you were glad you weren’t any bigger. 

The lack of outside lights worked in your favor, allowing you to get close. You paused outside to listen. 

Definite movement inside. Footsteps. Murmuring. The click of a lighter. A side door opened several feet from your hiding spot, letting out a guard, and you held very still.

“Think they’re gonna show?” The guard had an accent, sounded Russian to your ears.

“Boss thinks they will.” A second guard stepped out of the building, lighting a cigarette. This one sounded American. 

“What makes him so sure?” The Russian didn’t sound disbelieving, just bored. 

“Eh, who knows?” The American blew out smoke, rolling his shoulders. “Not like I’m the boss’s right hand man.”

The two both laughed at that, and you tensed. There was something wrong here, very wrong. Who were they expecting? 

A radio crackled on the Russian’s hip. “Got movement from the northwest,” someone reported in, muffled but audible. Also American. Northwest. You froze, not quite sure which direction you’d come from. 

“Guess the boss is right.” The American grinned, teeth very white in the darkness. “We better finish up if we wanna get in on the fun.”

“Assuming the snipers don’t get the bastards first,” the Russian agreed. “But who knows? They are supposed to be very good.”

“It’s the same assholes that blew up the cache two weeks ago. They’re good.” The American sounded almost eager, thirsty for bloodshed in a way that made all your fur stand on end. He put out his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe, free hand reaching over to smack his companion in the shoulder. “C’mon, man, hurry up.” 

You’d heard enough. You remembered the cache two weeks ago - Soap had come back exhilarated and smelling of smoke. 

They were expecting your guys. Somehow, they knew. 

This was a trap.

You bolted, running as fast as you could, no longer quite so worried about stealth. 

But you did pause outside the fence, because they’d mentioned snipers. Okay. Think like Ghost. Where would you set up if you were a sniper? 

A quick look found at least four spots you could check. After you warned the team. 

It took a lot less time to get back to them, since you were less concerned about stealth and more concerned about speed. Consequently, when you arrived in front of Price, you were panting. Shifting took only a moment, leaving you crouched in front of them. 

“They know,” you gasped, not giving them time to ask you questions. “Expecting you. Snipers, guards.” You waved back at the building.

Price’s eyes narrowed. “You sure?”

You nodded rapidly. “Heard two of them talking.” You swallowed against your dry throat, ignoring the chill of the night air against your skin. 

Price blew out a slow breath, gaze flitting between you and the buildings in the distance. The other three all stood still and silent, waiting on his orders. 

“Right. No use walkin’ in to a trap. Get back to exfil.” 

There was a ripple through the group, the tension of a thwarted op paired with the knowledge that they’d been given bad intel. You, at least, couldn’t think for a moment of anything other than the fact that if you hadn’t gone first, they’d have walked blindly into that trap.

You swallowed, glancing between them. Gaz was already reaching for your clothes, Soap and Ghost on alert. Price was not going to like what you did next. 

So you just wouldn’t give him a chance to yell at you.

“Meet you back there,” you said, and shifted. You were gone again before any of them could try to grab you, and you knew they couldn’t risk shouting after you. 

You ran ahead of them and veered off course. It was dark, but your eyesight was better in the dark than any human’s, especially shifted. So you saw the movement of a sniper, likely scanning for your guys. 

You launched yourself at the sniper, yowling. You were no bigger than the average housecat, but you had surprise on your side, and claws. He yelped as your claws dug into his shoulders and arms around his tac vest. A gunshot briefly deafened you, but rather than run off, you lunged for his hand, biting down as hard as you could. He dropped the rifle, swearing, trying to shake you off. 

You let go of him and ran again. You doubted he’d go after you, and you were too small a target to shoot at with any accuracy. Especially as you zigzagged away.

So you went on, following the sounds of a radio and check in calls. Your ears flickered, pinpointing the source of the noise, before you crept up. 

This one was a woman, tense and alert, scanning for enemies. Your tail flicked back and forth as you debated your approach. You could get to her hands first, incapacitate her. But you’d have to move fast, both to catch up with your guys and to not get shot. 

Her radio crackled again and she turned towards the sniper you’d already attacked. 

You leapt at her hands, scratching and biting. You thought it would work.

It sort of did.

She yelled and swore and swung away from you. But she didn’t drop the gun. 

Instead she swung it at the same time you jumped for her.

Pain burst in your side, sharp and sudden. You tumbled out of the air, landing on your feet and howling. For a moment you wondered if you’d be able to move, if you’d even be able to make it back to exfil–

“Fucking animal,” the woman spat, and aimed the rifle at you. You scrambled for cover, the shot so loud it hurt your ears. Warmth slid down into your left ear, muffling your hearing. Another shot and your back right leg buckled under a line of searing heat. 

A third shot. For a moment you expected to feel pain, to keel over. 

Instead the sniper went down, blood and brain matter sprayed across the ground behind her.

One of your guys must have shot her. Which meant they were still here.

Running was immediately out of the question. Your ribs shifted, and that crunching feeling should probably be very concerning. Your injured leg didn’t want to hold your weight. 

Leaving you to limp along on three legs, woozy, struggling a bit to breathe. There was no way this was going to end well for you. 

A soft call of your name had you jerk, swaying a little on your feet, before you looked up at Gaz. He hissed out a soft curse, scooping you into his arms. You did your best to not make pained sounds, and failed. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, holding you securely even as he ran back to join the others. “You could have been killed!” 

“You’re explaining that later,” Price growled, ushering Gaz into the heli before him. “Damned foolish.” 

You managed a weak meow, shaking your head, trying to unblock your ear. Blood spattered across Gaz’s front and the seat, but you could hear better at least. 

“Fuck,” Gaz breathed, buckling in quickly. “Cap, should we–?” 

“I don’t know.” Price sat next to him, also buckled in. A moment later the heli was lifting up, the faint lighting inside allowing you to see the captain’s jaw clench tight. “Not a damn vet.” 

The motors were so much louder as a cat, and you pinned your ears back, still sensitive from the gunshots. And then meowed pitifully at the sharp pain from your left ear. 

Price called your name, and you jerked your gaze to him. Your jaws had parted so you could pant, trying to get more air. 

“Shift back,” Price demanded, firm tone mostly masking his concern. “We can’t help you like this.”

You thought about that for a moment. Shifting was going to suck. Your ribs were almost definitely broken, and would not magically be fixed. Not to mention the sheer strain of shifting that much - coupled with the blood you’d already lost, there was a good chance you wouldn’t be able to stay conscious.

Then again, if you didn’t shift, there was no vet on staff. And it was a lot easier to bleed out as a cat than as a human. 

So you shifted, immediately gasping in pain at the jostling on your ribs, tears springing to your eyes.

“Easy, love,” Gaz soothed, shifting his grip on you to keep you securely against his chest. “What hurts?”

“Ribs,” you gritted out, shutting your eyes. “Ear. Thigh.” Your heartbeat pounded in your head and at your throat, far too fast. It was getting hard to focus. 

“Thigh is still bleeding,” Soap pointed out from across the way, frowning. 

“Yeah, spotted that,” Gaz gritted out. One big hand pressed a cloth down onto the seeping wound on your thigh, hard. You whined, hands scrambling for something to help anchor you. The heli jolted, not a lot, but enough to make you bite your tongue to hold back a shriek. 

It was too much - the burning in your ribs, the ache in your thigh, the pounding of your pulse. Your eyelids fluttered - you knew you should stay conscious. 

But it hurt, and it was hard, and you were less inclined to fight as the adrenaline left you. Shivering hurt, but you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“Hey, hey, don’t you dare fall asleep on me.” Gaz sounded more panicked than angry. Someone wrapped a blanket around you, and you blinked slowly. 

Price nodded once to you, though he didn’t speak, since he was on the phone with someone else. Of course he was on your left - you couldn’t hear him quite right, things still muffled on that side. 

Trying to focus was way too much effort anyway. You just wanted to sleep. 

Vaguely, you could hear Gaz behind you, chanting, “No no no–” But it was too much to keep your eyes open, to ask him what was wrong.

Your eyes closed as everything faded. 

Soft, rhythmic beeping drew you out of sleep. Opening your eyes was a monumental task, one you accomplished in increments until you could see the boring white ceiling above you. 

Didn’t look like your room, though.

Huh.

You felt like you should be freaked out about that, but you felt too weighted down to get freaked out about anything. You blinked slowly, trying to remember what happened. 

The soft breathing in the room finally registered, and you blinked again and lifted your head. 

Gaz was asleep next to you, head pillowed on his arms at the edge of your bed. That looked uncomfortable. No way he should sleep like that.

But parting your lips to try to call to him just made you cough, your throat dry and scratchy as sandpaper. Coughing jostled your ribs, pain flaring bright and sudden, clearing the last of the cobwebs from your brain. With the side effect of tears leaking from your eyes as you tried to calm down. 

Big, warm hands cupped your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over your skin. “Easy, love, easy does it,” Gaz murmured, gaze flitting over you, as if he could do anything to help. “Best thing to do is to breathe normally, yeah?” 

You stuttered through the first few breaths, slowly calming down until you were relaxed again, Gaz still leaning over you. You blinked slowly up at him, lifting one shaky hand to cover his. 

“What happened?” You barely got the words out as a whisper, but you managed. 

“Water first.” Gaz released you with one hand, slowly, as if he was reluctant, and pushed a button to lever the bed more upright. He held the water for you, making it easy for you to just drink through the straw. 

You slow-blinked at him again when he set the water aside. That was better. Not great, but better. You tapped the back of his hand gently. 

“Right.” Gaz blew out a slow breath, gaze darting from you to the side table to the machines next to you. “You’re in a hospital, Price is wrangling the doctor. You remember getting shot, yeah?” 

“Thigh,” you agreed. 

“And the tip of your ear.” His fingers strayed, brushing against the left side of your head, which did feel thick and muffled. Huh. 

“Damn.” You huffed. “Gonna look like I got caught in a spay and release program.” 

His snort was surprised and a tiny bit wet. “That’s what you’re worried about?” 

“Still got my pride,” you mumbled, tipping your head a little to nuzzle into his palm. 

“Yeah, well.” Gaz cleared his throat. “You… almost didn’t make it, love.”

You blinked at him, feeling incredibly slow. “How?” 

“Not sure.” Gaz scrubbed his free hand over his face. “Guess you lost more blood than we thought, or something. But you were struggling by the time we got you here.” He swallowed hard, looking haunted. 

“Too many shifts,” you muttered, trying to grab him with your free hand, and then glowering at the tug and pinch of the IV there. “Must’ve drained me more than I thought.” 

“Have you been hurting yourself to help us?” Gaz sounded a little appalled, his gaze somehow more frantic as he looked you over.

You shook your head a little. “Doesn’t hurt,” you reassured him. “Normally not a problem. Just… takes energy.” You hummed softly, nestling your cheek further into the warmth of his hand, nose near his wrist. He smelled much better than the hospital room. 

Gaz huffed softly, shoulders relaxing again. “You’ve got stitches in your leg,” he murmured. “And a few broken ribs.”

“Called that one.” You fought to keep your eyes open. You didn’t want to go back to sleep, didn’t want to lose the warmth of his gaze, the feel of his skin on yours. Didn’t want to go back to the distance he held you at. 

“It’s okay if you wanna sleep more,” he murmured, leaning in closer. “You need to heal.” 

“Don’t wanna sleep.” You nuzzled into his palm again even as your eyes closed against your will. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Gaz murmured, low and solemn, like a promise. “Just rest, love.” 

As stubborn as you wanted to be, you obeyed, his scent soothing you back to sleep. 

He was still there when you woke next, as was Price. This time, you felt less groggy, but definitely still not normal. 

“We will have a conversation about that stunt,” Price said as soon as your gaze focused on him. “When you’re not stuck in bed.”

“Joy,” you drawled, though you relaxed a little at the knowledge that you weren’t about to be reamed. Not yet, anyway. 

“Another few days here and you should be fine to come back to base.” Price tipped his head, watching you carefully. 

“‘Kay.” You grimaced as you tried to breathe deeper, the ache in your ribs reminding you why that was not a good idea. 

“That’ll take a while,” Gaz murmured sympathetically. “Ribs are the worst.”

“Be easier as a cat.” But you just made a face, displeased with the prospect of months of recovery. 

“After the stitches come out,” Price interrupted, giving you a stern look. “Not before.”

“I know.” You couldn’t help but pout a little. 

Price snorted. “Get some rest,” he ordered, taking a single step forward to pat the top of your feet. He shot a look at Gaz that you couldn’t decipher before he turned and left.

Leaving you with Gaz again. 

“How’re you doing?” Gaz shifted closer to you, his knees knocking into the side of the bed. 

“Okay,” you said slowly, watching him. Now that you were less out of it, the sudden closeness and concern were… odd. You knew it was him, you knew his scent anywhere. Even in your sleep. Had he hit his head at some point? No, Price wouldn’t let him get away with not getting that treated. 

“What?” Gaz blinked at you, gently curling his hand over your free hand. 

“You’re… different.” You stopped yourself from saying more. Kinder. Softer. More like you remembered from the beginning, when you’d decided he was your person. 

He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing, and looked down at your linked hands. “Yeah,” he agreed softly. “I, uh. I’m sorry. Been a real ass.” He rubbed the back of his neck, managing to look up at you from under his lashes. 

You slow-blinked at him again, resisting the urge to headbutt him. For multiple reasons. Not least of which because it would hurt to move. “Coulda been worse.”

“You’re not supposed to excuse my shitty behavior.” Gaz frowned disapprovingly. 

You shrugged and then hissed as your ribs reminded you that yes they were still broken. “It didn’t change anything.” 

Gaz looked at you like you were a little crazy. “What do you mean?” 

“Well.” You licked your lips and swallowed. Your turn to be nervous. “I wouldn’t have… I mean, I still… Hm.” You pursed your lips. Damn humans for being so insistent on words. Any cat would have known by now! 

“You still… what?” Gaz leaned closer, eyes focused on you. 

Soap saved you from having to explain, waltzing into your room with water and pudding. “Price mentioned ye were finally up! How ye feel, hen?” 

“Alive,” you grumbled, tilting your head to look at him. “You brought food?”

“Just some pudding.” He offered it up and even opened it for you. Because he was a good friend. 

“When are these bandages coming off?” you asked in a grumble, already annoyed at the reduced hearing in your left ear. 

Soap shrugged. “Couple more days. Leg will take longer.” He tipped his head. “Why?”

“Wanna see how bad it looks.” You grimaced. You were a cat, after all. You had some vanity. 

“Badass, more like.” Soap reached over to touch you, paused, and redirected his hand to very gently pat the top of your head instead. 

“Not made of glass.” You looked down at your lap, scowling a little.

“Hen. Broken ribs suck. Ah ken.” Soap crouched so he could catch your gaze. “Ye’ll hurt for months. No need to go lookin’ for more hurt.”

You blew out a breath and then winced. Okay. Right. “Good point,” you admitted. 

Soap grinned. “Has this dafty even tried t’ keep ye entertained?” 

You blinked at Soap. “Uh. Define entertained.”

“Means no.” Soap reached over you to swat Gaz’s shoulder. You half-expected them to devolve into tussling - you’d seen it happen before. But they didn’t, this time. Instead Soap snagged another chair, pulling it up to your bedside with a flourish. “Right! Have I told ye ‘bout my sisters?” 

The days passed slowly, but they passed. The hospital was boring. But you did rest, because you were forced to. Gaz was there every time you woke up, even in the middle of the night. Trying to get him to go had earned you the most pathetic puppy eyes you’d ever seen, and you were a bit ashamed of how quickly you caved to him. 

Which was part of the whole problem, really. He was still your person, even if you weren’t his. 

Gaz was the one who helped you from the bed to a wheelchair to make it out of the hospital. Gaz was the one who sat in the backseat with you, helping brace you and talking you through the pain of every bump in the road. Gaz was the one who brought you back to your room, who sat with you and insisted you boss him around telling him what you needed. 

Honestly, it was baffling. Completely baffling. It still felt a bit like he’d been replaced with a pod person, or something. (Except your nose would’ve picked that up.) 

The bandages around your head finally came off, and you examined the rough half-circle taken out of the top of your ear, completely silent, while Gaz hovered over your shoulder. 

“It’s not bad,” you grumbled at last. “Still looks like I got caught by a spay and release program.” 

“Have you ever?” Gaz held your gaze in the mirror.

“No one ever caught me,” you said with a haughty sniff, lifting your chin. “Until you. All. You all.” 

Gaz drew in a deep breath, his hands settling very carefully on your shoulders. “We never finished our conversation.”

“Which one?” You didn’t quite have to feign ignorance - you’d fallen asleep talking to him more than once, recently. 

“About what a shit I was.” He paused. “And why you’re so eager to sweep it under the rug.”

“Oh. That.” You swallowed, gaze skittering away from him. 

“Yeah, that.” He shifted closer to you. 

You hummed a soft note, not quite sure how to get out of this conversation, not sure if you should. Then you sighed softly. “For the record. You are an idiot.” You clenched your jaw and then released it. “If you were anyone else, I’d hold that against you for a long time.”

“What about Price and Ghost?” 

“Trust me, I’ll be reminding them that they hated me and use it to my advantage.” You smirked. “Cats have long memories when we want.” 

“So why aren’t you holding it against me?” 

And therein lay the problem. You fidgeted, making a face. “Alright. So. There is one major way we differ from, say, house cats.”

“Okay…?” Gaz looked bewildered but rolled with the apparent change of topic. 

“We choose one mate for life. Usually the female chooses. ‘S why Mama’s the matriarch.” 

Gaz blinked and then his eyes blew wide as he breathed out your name. 

“I made my choice three days into my stay here.” You forced yourself to hold still, to hold his gaze. 

“You… But… Even when I…?” He looked… a little devastated, a little hopeful. Pained, definitely.

“Yes.” You shrugged carefully. “The whole damn time.” 

Somehow, you weren’t quite sure how, Gaz managed to move around you, getting to your front and kissing you, soft and sweet. His fingers trembled against your cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, moving back just enough so he could speak. “I’m such a damn fool. You nearly died and I–” His breathing hitched. 

“Easy,” you murmured, lifting one hand to cover his. “I’m okay.” You paused. “Well. I will be okay.” 

“Made me realize what an idiot I’d been,” he continued, pressing his forehead to yours. “Made me realize I love you.” 

Your breath caught, your eyes going wide. “You… do?” 

“I do.” He huffed, breath warm against your lips. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” 

“Already forgiven.” You smiled slowly, carefully nuzzling his cheek. “Told you. Can’t hold a grudge against my person.” 

Gaz smiled. "Feel like I should scold you for being so forgiving about this, but it works to my advantage." 

You chuckled and then winced. Right. Ribs. "I'll be happy when those stitches come out," you grumbled, glowering down at your leg. 

"Just a few more days," Gaz soothed. "Are they bothering you? Itching?"

"No. I just want to shift." You made a face. 

"You don't like being stuck, do you?"

You swallowed hard, because that was… a little too accurate. "Right." 

Gaz kissed you again soft and slow and sweet. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing, you'll give me a complex." But you smiled, leaning in very carefully to nuzzle his cheek. "Just don't do it again. My forgiveness has its limits."

"Promise I won't." He kissed you again, apparently unable to help himself. 

Not that you were complaining. 

Your only real complaint was that anything more was out of the question. For the moment. 

Gaz held your hand as the stitches were removed. The on-base medic gave you some advice (that you didn't actually pay attention to) before leaving. 

You waited until the door was shut to shift. It hurt. It hurt more than you expected, left you panting softly. 

But you were once again on four paws. Much better. 

"You alright?" Gaz crouched down to be on your level, concern clear in his eyes. 

You chirped and licked the tip of his nose, smug. This felt much better. 

He chuckled quietly. "Can I pick you up?" 

You chirped again, walking carefully closer to him. Walking hurt, but not as badly as when you were human. 

It took a little figuring out, but Gaz picked you up and cradled you against his chest, one arm securely under your paws. You started purring immediately, rubbing your cheek against his chest. 

The only times he put you down the rest of the day were when he absolutely had to.

Best of all? He went back to hand feeding you, grinning through the teasing from Soap. 

You purred the entire meal. 

Finally, he headed back towards your room for the night. "You ready for bed?" He asked softly. 

You mrrped at him and tapped his hand. He blinked down at you. You looked very carefully down the hall, towards his room. 

"You… want to stay with me?" 

You chirped an affirmative. 

"Well… alright. Just for tonight." He continued down to his room, setting you gently on the bed. 

You gave him privacy to change for bed, padding up to his pillow to lay down next to it. Curling up was a no-go, so you laid carefully on your uninjured side. 

Gaz settled down with you, kissing the top of your head. "Sleep well, love."

You closed your eyes, purring gently. There was no way you were just staying in here tonight. If you had your way, you'd never go back to your room. 

You could be very persuasive when you wanted.

[mr-bas00nist]

Snake x NB AMAB reader idea. Reader completes their first mission and Snake rewards them with his mouth. 😉

LOVE THIS.

Rookies Reward

Venom Snake x AMAB! Reader

CW: Blowjob and praise kink

You were just returning from your first mission for Diamond Dogs. It was a surreal experience, intense indeed. But, it was your first time and it was incredibly successful. You came out with barely a scratch on yourself. The helicopter landed and you hopped out of it quickly. The nylon seats were rough and unpleasant to sit in but they remained you, you were alive.

You let out a heavy sigh as you walked back to your barracks to shower all the dirt and grime off yourself. The sound of distant chatter and the oceans crashing waves was pleasant and it did a great job of grounding you. You opened the door of your barracks as you went to the shower. You turned the hot water all the way on as you showered, relishing in the feeling of hot water soaking your tense and sore muscles.

A knock on your door caught your attention. “Hey, rookie, you in there?” You heard Miller’s voice. A voice you couldn’t get out of your head due to its uniqueness. “Uh, yeah sir, what’s up?”

You turned the shower off as you put a towel around your waist. “Snake wants to meet with you, head down to his office when you’re done in the shower.” Miller spoke in his stern tone. A bit of fear tingled up your spine, was your performance not good enough? “Uh, yes sir..” you spoke nervously.

You heard his footsteps leave the front of the bathroom door as you let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in. You quickly dried your body off as you put your ‘around base’ uniform on to go meet with snake. A few of your comrades waved and said hellos but you couldn’t bother to respond. You were too nervous at what snake was going to say.

You made it to his door as you took a shaky deep breath before knocking. “Come in.” You heard him speak. You opened the door. “You wanted to speak to me sir?” You asked pointing to yourself, he didn’t look up from his paperwork. “Close the door rookie.” He spoke sternly, your lips tightened as you closed the door behind you. Your took a seat in the chair in front of him.

He set his pen down as he looked into your eyes. Your own gaze darted around the room uncomfortable from the intense eye contact. “Your performance on the mission was impeccable.” He spoke with his usual monotone voice. You paused glancing up to him with a soft smile. “Really?” He nodded standing up moving a bit closer. “It’s been awhile since a rookie has done such a good job like you have on a first mission.”

He spoke looking down at you. You felt your skin get warm at the praise as you smiled awkwardly. “Just doing my job sir…” you spoke with a slight laugh. “You did your job but you also exceeded expectations.” He spoke moving even closer. “That doesn’t go unnoticed private, I can assure you.” You shivered as you felt him closer.

He got on his knees as he put his palm on your thigh. “I want to reward you. For being such a good boy.” He praised, your body had a different reaction though. You felt blood rush to your dick as you hardened in your cargo pants. He glanced down to see your growing bulge. He hummed in amusement as he gripped the zipper of your pants.

He pulled it down as he observed the wet spot on your boxers. He looked up at you, a silent ask. You nodded quickly as he reached in pulling your hardening cock out. His eyes were glazed as he stared at your cock. Your hips bucked as you felt his hand touching your cock. He began to slowly stroke your hot flesh.

You let out a heavy groan as you hit your lip. Once he got you fully hard he gave an experimental lick to the tip. “Aren’t you a big boy..” he praised as he admired your cock for a moment. His warm mouth enveloped the tip of your dick as you let out a loud moan. Your hand crashed over your mouth. You heard him let out a little laugh as he sucked your sensitive tip.

He began to get more ambitious, swallowing more and more of your cock. He began to deepthroat you with surprising ease. It made you wonder how the hell he was so good at sucking dick. He looked up at you with his pretty crystal blue eye as he put his attention back on your cock. You continued to cover your mouth not wanting to alert any passersby’s.

You gripped his brown hair as you bucked your hips making him gag around your cock. You began to twitch in his mouth, a familiar coil building up in your stomach as you gripped his hair a bit harder. He pulled off continuing to stroke you. “Close?” He asked breathlessly.

You nodded furiously. He hummed as he dived back down, sucking and licking each sensitive spot of yours he could. Your grunts and groans began to increase in volume as you arched your back. “Cumming-“ you let out a strangled moan as you shoved his head down on your cock as far as it could go.

He choked on you as he teared up a bit. After he swallowed he pulled off with a breath. You panted as you admired him. “T-t-thank you sir….” You spoke tiredly. Your legs felt heavy and you could barely move. He gave a soft smile as he put your dick back in your pants. He stood up dusting himself off as he gave a pat to your shoulder.

“Nice job rookie, really.” He spoke before walking away closing the door behind him.

[cthulhusstepmom]

Soapghost Dancing au:

So I saw this right and it's probably because amazing dancers just have incredible chemistry but it got me thinking.

(in my head Ghost is leading but it's up to your interpretation)

141 is a dance company, they have a few different styles :

Soap-swing, hip-hop, contemporary, doesn't have the patience or the timing for ballroom

Ghost-mainly ballroom, used to do swing but we'll get into that later

Gaz - swing, ballroom, contemporary, hip-hop, ballet, pretty much everything

Roach- ballroom, hip-hop, ballet, has tried others but only really likes dancing other styles with Soap and Gaz for fun

Price- ballroom, and Latin, has dabbled in almost everything but he prefers ballroom

Laswell- West Coast swing, you wouldn't think it but she is incredible she took home a championship title during an improv swing competition when she pulled her wife as a partner.

Nikolai- Nik dances ballroom, latin(only with Price), and Ballet, he was classically trained in St. Petersburg

Alejandro and Rudy- world titled Latin dancers(of course) but they also do ballroom and Alejandro does ballet while Rudy does contemporary, they both do swing as well when they need names on the ballot.

So: what if they're at an improv swing competition and Gaz goes down(Nik dropped him(that helicopter scene will haunt them in every universe)). In order to place in sweepstakes they need a full ballot and both Alejandro and Rudy(their usual backups) are already entered. Ghost is there for moral support and to make sure everyone gets filmed so they can look over it later, Soap is so so close to titling and he won't be able to if the team isn't complete(ik that's not how that works but for the plot). Ghost doesn't do swing anymore, not since an old partner in an old studio sabotaged him and almost ruined his career. But he can't say no to Soap, never could. So he puts his name in.

And as fate would have it.....

Out of a random draw of a hundred people Soap and Ghost get each other.

And this(the video) ensues, or something similar. And Ghost falls in love with swing again.

And maybe something else too...

[smoothielenny]

𝐈’𝐦 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

Lo’ak x Omatikaya!gn!reader

Warning: angst, misunderstanding, good ending

“Norm! I come with you!” You yelled. He looked at you feeling hesitant. He thinks you might get in danger, but you are persistent, you really want to go. It’s been months when your boyfriend, Lo’ak, left your clan for personal reason. You been missing him. Before he left, he promise to come back and be your mate, but your patience has limit.

After persuading him to bring you, he finally agreed. You took your stuff with you, asked your parent for permission, they were hesitant at first, but they eventually allowed you. You hopped on the helicopter and left the forest.

The trip took few days. You experienced different type of wearable while at it. You weren’t familiar about them, often ask Norm what they are. Norm remembered that you only know humid, natural, sometimes rainy, weathers, but never snowy weather.

You finally landed in the island. These new type of Na’vi gathered around. They have a teal color, large arms, and wide tail. Also have different eye color. The three of you got out of the helicopter, meeting Jake who is in worry. Max and Norm followed Jake to a pod. You are left with some Na’vi who are staring at you.

One of them, a boy who has a bun approach you, still staring. You also stare back at him, seeing the difference between you. He then sign a ‘I see you’ and you also did. Then a girl who is shorter than him also sign ‘I see you’.

After a few hours, Norm told you to come with him and see Kiri and you gladly do. You visited the Sully house, Kiri is still laying on a mat while Neytiri is cooing her. You also noticed Lo’ak holding the girl from earlier’s hands. Your chest felt heavy seeing at them, your eyes were about to sweat with tears. Loak then noticed you in the entry, his eyes widen when he sees you, but you couldn’t take it, you left the marui with teary eyes.

You cried you eyes out near the shore feeling heart broken. He lied to you, that what your head is filling up right now, those promise he did, was it all a lie? While crying, a hand on your shoulder made you look at your back, it is Lo’ak. He turn your body to face him and hug you tightly.

“I miss you.” He whispered in your ear. You shake your head off and let go. He saw your face covered with tears. He felt sad seeing you crying and wipe the tears off.

“That girl, you were holding her hand. Do you like her?” Lo’ak frowned his eyes, of course not, he would like any girl, but you.

“No, I don’t like her. (y/n). I only like you, only you. She only hold my hands to comfort me, but I don’t have any feelings for her.” He cupped your face looking at you dearly. He then kiss you gently, you haven’t felt his lips for a long time, the feeling feels foreign, yet familiar. You hugged him tightly as you kiss him. He look at you again with a smile this time, “I love you, (y/n)”

Both of you went back to marui, seeing Kiri finally sitting up and better than earlier. Neytiri saw the both of you entering, Lo’ak’s hand is laying at your hip, he got some explaining to do later.

[geminimoonbeamx]

You can blow what’s left of my right mind(I don’t mind)

A/N: As usual, I'm two days late. But here she is. Writing this his reignited my love for Pedro Pascal in ways that are hard to describe. Please read @allaboardthereadingrailroad sister story and thank her for always dealing with my fuckery. Also GBB: Great British Bake-off. duh lol

Warning: Smut, Oral(femal receiving), Drug use. The very vague, brief mention of homie hopping. Minor mentions of infidelity at the end.

Pairings: Frankie “Catfish” Morales X Plus Sized Reader

Summary: After a shitty date, you fully accept the prospect of being alone forever. One spontaneous barbeque and a joint rolled by the handsomest man you’ve ever met later and you're reevaluating that notion.

You deserve your fate, re-downloading Bumble had been an offense against your carefully routine therapy schedule. 

The date had been trash, but you could’ve guessed that. No need for a crystal ball or the stack of tarot cards that had become a staple party trick of yours in college. Another limp dick banker, six figures and no people skills. Gag. 

You ponder your shitty decision making skills, hand on your hip, as you stare down the long aisle. Fluorescent and distorted, wine or something hard? What pairs well with leftover tiramisu. You reach for your phone as it dings in your bag:

Huh.

Tequila it is. 

-------

Realtor Tom, as he’d been dubbed months ago, had finally closed on the property next door. Condo, beach front, wrap around porch. You have no idea how it could’ve taken it him so long to close on it but as you arrive, you congratulate him all the same- 

Exchanging the crystalline bottle for a heavy plate, steaming, fresh off the fire. 

It’s just something small and intimate, his celebration. 

The porch lights are dim, music hums and the grill is worked by seasoned hands as the moon shines brightly down on the crashing waves in the distance. .

It’s you and Claire and a handful of Tom’s oldest friends, military men. Brothers. All that macho we almost died together and now live in each others back pockets bullshit that you think is just a skewed version of your grandmothers book club. 

The stories they tell almost seem lifted straight off a page, carefully crafted. Pieces clearly cut away for you and Claire’s benefit. The bloody kind, you figure. A shame really, you like your gossip like you like your steak- medium rare. Raw and almost unpalatable. 

Men suck, as a whole. But former military men with jawlines that could cut diamonds? Yeah, you could stomach that. Work with it even.

The golden boy with the right dash of middle america and bright blue eyes, Will- right? He’s your usual type. 

Unfortunately not all that in interested in you though as far as you can tell. 

Pope’s darkly handsome with black hole vortex like charm, a gaping maw with salt and pepper hair. Your daddy issues are screaming-

Claire weaves and bobs through conversation with skill- honed in on a target that you don't think Benny, the little brother who likes to box, has caught on to yet. With his eager eyes and booming laughter he obviously still thinks he’s in the game. 

Her daddy issues are worse than yours.. 

“You wanna hit this?” 

It comes from beside you. Frankie’s hand is outstretched, a freshly rolled joint in between his long fingers.

“Greens? For little ol’ me? Thanks, you’re a real gentleman” You tease, grinning as you take it. It’s clean work, pretty as shit and pulls perfect. You hold his gaze, just for a moment as you suck on the end. 

You hadn't been sure about him, hours ago. Tall, lanky, donned in Hawaiian tropic and a baseball cap.

Catfish, Frankie, is a pilot. Contracted through some government agency since he retired from the military. You think he’d be a great commercial pilot, cute little helicopter flights for rich fucks over the bay, turtle island. His easy humor would win ‘em all over. You’d be his first client, he could take you out anytime. 

“Yeah, you want me to take you flying?” He grins, tips his beer. Entertaining the idea. 

“What girl wouldn't?” You counter “I mean, heights aren't really my thing but if the pilot was good enough, sure. I’d be game” 

He shakes his head, playing it cool. Yeah, whatever you want, just tell him when.

Is there certain terminology for flight head or would that just fall under the blanket statement of joining the mile high club?-

You reach over to hand the joint to Claire, the dim fairy lighting hitting her dark eyes just right. A smug, knowing gleam aimed right at you. 

The night bleeds away and the shots of tequila start to lose their sting. 

Everything is warm, the sticky Floridian heat doesn't dwindle, not at all phased by the mid October time stamp. You glow, alcohol fueled, from the inside out. You know these guys better now, these near strangers feel inner circle close, 

But maybe, it's just because you’re sitting in a circle? 

Or maybe it's because that expensive bottle you’d brought, Tom’s gift, is long gone. The sketchy little decanter Santiago brought- the one with a distended scorpion that came straight from the Motherland is getting there too. 

Clear liquor is thicker than blood, or whatever that saying is. 

Will bows out first which, surprise surprise. Who has to work on a Sunday? Tom soon after, toting a stumbling old country song singing Benny- 

“Last time I let you crash at one of my properties, I was left scrubbing who know’s what the fuck off the the three thousand dollar couch. Get your ass up” 

And then there were four. 

Pope insists that it’s in poor taste not to finish this particular bottle, bad luck. 

You know what else is bad luck- hangovers. You’re out, its been fun and real and real fun. 

You’re not expecting Claire to leave with you, because you know- the daddy issues. And the liquor tolerance of steel. 

You remind her to lock the door when she gets home, she’s on Buttercup duty in the morning too, still drunk or not. 

“I think i'm going to head out, too, man” Frankie announces, standing just after you and your stomach erupts into butterflies. “I’m too old for this shit” 

They, Frankie and Pope, exchange words in spanish. Embracing. Laughing. 

You and Claire exchange words, silently. Telepathically. All eyes and vibes. 

The verdict is clear;

Use protection. 

----------

You’ll walk him to his car you offer and he chuckles, will do you one better and walk you to your door. All of fifteen feet away. 

The night can end here and it still would have been good, beautiful even. Far removed from the horrible date, but you? 

Make bad decisions. Tequila addled or not.

 You reach for his hand, twining your fingers in between his and tugging. Staring up at him with want, bare and vulnerable, written all over your face. 

“Come home with me?” 

Frankie looks like he might say no. Like there's something on the tip of his tongue that you have no desire to unearth, something that should dictate a hard decline. Like he should utter the words that will end the night-

But he doesn't want to. You can tell. 

You tug him all the way up the the porch stairs.

Fumbling not to let go as you fiddle with the key, the moment the door swings open its like a switch has been flipped. He’s turned on. A squeal breaks free as as he crowds you in all body and warmth and close, close, close head spinningly fast. 

He kicks the door shut with the heel of his heavy boot. 

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

You don't do one night stands. 

Not because of morality or maturity or lack- but because they’re unpredictable. The few you;d had had fallen on the spectrum of either holy fuck wow, or never, ever, again, 

Frankie sits in his own bracket-

A peel of laughter breaks out of you as he runs his bearded face across your neck, into the sensitive skin behind your ear.

He’s fun, playful. It doesn't feel like a performance, him touching you. He digs his fingers in to feel. He runs his tongue across what he wants to taste- he’s not against lighting up another spliff.

 The plumes of smoke pass between your mouths in hot kisses and coughed fits of giggles. 

“That did not happen” You accuse, sprawled out on the couch. Your hair fanned across a throw pillow, silky slip of a top long gone as Frankie sits between your bare spread thighs. 

“It did- and that shit’s prosecutable in most third world countries” He informs lightly in all seriousness, the two very different tones existing harmonious as he husks it in your ear.

 Playful, all fun, until he's kissing down your chest. Wet and scorching, 

It feels good, the drag of prickly facial hair over all that soft supple skin. Hypersensitive, you arch into his mouth when his teeth catch on your nipple, just on the right side of pain. He’ll stop, the soothing lave of his tongue makes that clear.

 You knot your fingers in his thick black hair and push him deeper into your chest. 

He’s attentive, so much so that it’s almost odd. He just met you not even six hours ago and he’s treating you so nice- it must be his kink or something. Oral fixations. He doesn't want to pull away, his mouth slams back to yours after every minor disconnection. 

He has to yank his shirt over his head? Kiss- has to shimmy his jeans down his long legs? He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth the moment they’re off. You smile into each one. 

“You wanna fuck me, Frankie?” You whisper into his mouth because he’s so hard and hes rocking into you, nudging against lace“You can have it, what ever you want” 

He’s not a man who needs to be told twice, or so you learn. “Whatever he wants”, you’d offered. Thought he’d slip your panties to the side, pound into you. Condom first of ofcource, youre not that fuck dumb yet- but there he goes with that mouth again. Down, past your sternum and belly button and the round curve of your stomach and oh, there goes your panties- 

Fuck. 

He shoulders his way right where he wants to be, face first between your legs, “Right here baby, keep ‘em right here' ' because hes slim but far from weak and you’re going to wrap your thighs around his ears whether you want to or not.This is the good stuff, the kind of stuff that blocks out all the ugly shit he’s seen and the bad things he’s done. It’s white noise, peace and he goes down you like he’s dying for it. 

Fucks his tongue into you in a way that makes you whine. All men(boys not included) like eating pussy, in theory. Only a select few of them love it, 

Frankie Morales loves that shit. 

Your eyes roll as his nose nudges your clit and what’s that quote about big noses? Its messy, overly wet and yeah, sloppy but who cares. The squelch and slurps make you shiver because what the hell? You were not expecting this. You nearly lurch right off the couch when his fingers join in because wow yeah you knew g spot orgasms were a thing but this is something else completely. 

He doesn't stop until it hurts. Until your muscles burn and his jaw is threatening to lock. Until you're begging him to let you ride him, using the back of the couch to bounce in his lap in a way that's truly impressive. Your pilates instructor would be so proud of your muscle elasticity. 

The two of you are barely human Jell-o after. When you offer your bed for the night, he doesnt have the energy to decline. 

----------

The sun is bright in the sky by the time Frankie gets his shit together, clothes pulled on and out of your wildly comfortable bed. He tells you he’s leaving, kisses your cheek- even when you groan and push him away, burrowing deeper into your comforter. He debates on waking you up, on chicken scratching a note with his information-

No numbers will be exchanged, no promises of next time.

It’s for the best, less messy. He tries to comfort himself with this facts as he trudges down the stairs.

He’s head pounds with the beat of his heart and he could throttle Pope for pressing those last few shots. Too old, not young enough to deal with mornings after anymore- 

“Good morning” 

Claire stands in the middle of the naturally lit kitchen, hair tied up neatly, donned in activewear. Her tawny complexion clear and unblemished. Not a dark circle in sight. 

A panting squirming mass bum rushes him and winds around his feet . Oh, Frankie remembers you putting a dog in their room last night. 

“Good morning, I was just going to head out-” 

“Ill walk you out- we were about to go for a run anyway. Buttercup, leash” Claire’s tone is cheerful, even. There’s no waver, nothing to prepare him for what comes next.

The moment the front door opens, they spill out onto the pristine lawn, and he’s heading for his truck-

“Oh and Frankie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Say hi to your wife for us” 

Read @allaboardthereadingrailroad sister story to find out what happened with Claire, Pope and that bottle: One Night Stand

[mockerycrow]

I need you to look at the screenshots I got from cal of duty celebrating 50 years of hip-hop 

WHY IS PRICE IN THE SAME CAR AS SNOOP DOG AND KYLE IS JUST OVER HERE IN A HELICOPTER WITH  NICKI MINAJ??

THEY ARE BEST FRIENDS ‼️‼️‼️‼️

[omegaremix]

Omega Radio for July 29, 2017; #142.

Velvetian Measures “Kelp”

Ciara “Sorry” (MssingNo RMX)

Yasha “DWM”

Rugby Wild “Topanga”

bobbitopickles “Tookus”

iBenji “Killin’ My Vibe” (Bad Zu RMX)

Bad Zu “KllKllKll”, “God Bless My AK47”

JLin “Nyakinyua Rise”

Estoc & Arca ft. Brandy & Monica “The Harness Is Mine”

Nnamdi Ogbonnaya “Art School Crush”

clipping. “Story 2”

Sir Froderick “Sweeetah”

SEENMR “Love Daddy”, “What Side Is You From?”

Oldbills “smoke.mirrors”

3ndles5 “Polyester”

Sokro “Whip$”

El-P “Stay Down”

Antwon “Helicopter”

WestsideGunn & Conway The Machine “Machine Gun Black”

Harlem Spartans “Hazards”, “Kennington Where It Started”

Grizzy “Mandem Salute”

67 f. Giggs “Let’s Lurk”

Zone 2 “Who’s Badder Than We”

410 Skengdo X AM “Crash”

YGG “Bad”

Stormzy “Big For Your Bootz”

weirddough “So Many Ways”

Algiers “The Underside Of Power”

Ho99o9 “United States Of Horror”

Aqui Dela “Breeze”

Deluxe hip-hop, rap, drill, backpacker, and beat tapes.

[ratmans-notebooks]

not a hip hopped not a heart stopped everybodys gone stone cold crazy like a cherry tree chopped maybe martin scorceses new movie just flopped or maybe some baby in a groovy helicopter we do, we do nothing but hold the window shut to keep the worry out! we never wanna see the daylight fade we gotta masquerade to keep the worry out!

[ladyknightellen]

I would love to hear more about The One Where Henry's Metaphor Is Not A Metaphor or read a snippet from it!

Okay so, little summary of sorts, then I'll give a lil snippet!

-Henry was born with his heart partially outside his body along with some other issues that go along with that condition (the actual condition is called Pentalogy of Cantrell in case you're curious)

-For the most part, it follows canon, but deals mainly with Henry's struggle to find a balance between his genuine medical needs, and the safety precautions that have been imposed on him by his family. Basically Mary is being awful in new and horrifying ways, and Catherine stopped fighting her and became a bit of a helicopter mom after Arthur died.

The party is loud and bright and everything Henry would normally hate since he can’t dance or drink, but the moment he sees Alex, he doesn't really care anymore. The suit he’s wearing makes him look like he stepped off a runway, and Henry is sure his mouth is hanging open.

He can tell that Alex wants to dance, but he stays with Henry and talks with him about anything and everything. When the songs change to some early 2000s hip hop however, Alex can’t seem to help himself and he doesn’t resist when Nora comes and starts pulling him up.

“Come on Henry!” She yells over the music “You come too!”

“Oh no, it’s–” Alex trails off, like he’s trying to decide how to explain things to Nora without actually explaining it to her. He looks at Henry with a look that says ‘help’ and ‘sorry’ and Henry makes a decision that he knows he’s going to regret.

“I’ll join you!” Alex studies him with a concerned expression, and as they walk towards the dance floor, he pulls him aside and gives him a concerned look.

“Are you sure about this? I don’t want you to…umm…” He trails off, and Henry finds it painfully endearing how worried he looks.

“I’ll be fine Alex, remember how I told you that I don’t like people treating me like I’m made of glass?”

“Oh, right, sorry.”

Henry only makes it through one song before he starts feeling dizzy, and Alex follows him when he wades back through the crowd of bodies to find somewhere to sit down.

“Don’t bite my head off for asking this, but seriously, are you alright?” Alex asks. Henry doesn’t try to answer out loud, but he manages a weak nod that does nothing to help the dizziness and pounding headache.

“Do you want me to leave?” Alex asks “Because I don’t think I should, but I’m not gonna hover if you don’t want me to.”

“Stay” Henry says as he leans back against the wall and closes his eyes, willing his body to take in deeper breaths. “I’ll be good– In a second.”

“I’ll believe you when you say something without gasping for air.” Henry cracks one eyelid open and gives Alex a look.

“I told you, I don’t– need you to treat me like– I’m made of glass.”

“Well call me crazy, but I feel like there’s a pretty big gap between treating you like you’re made of glass and just making sure you don’t pass out in the middle of a crowded ballroom.” He’s right, and Henry knows it, and he doesn’t have the energy at the moment to even attempt to protest, so he just nods and waits for the episode to pass.

When Henry opens his eyes this time, Alex is sitting in a chair next to him instead of hovering over him, but he’s still glaring at Henry with an expression that is a mix of worry and exasperation.

“I’m fine now Alex, I promise.” He says, sitting up fully again.

“Okay, see, now I believe you.”

“You can go back to dancing now, I’m fine.”

“No no it’s fine, I don’t mind hanging out with you, I’m sorry Nora dragged you out there.”

“Alex, please, just go back and enjoy your party. You don’t have to sit here with me the whole time, I know you want to dance and have fun. You don’t have to reign yourself in on my account, and don’t say you’re fine and you don’t care, because you are currently bouncing halfway out of your seat to the rhythm of the music. Go enjoy yourself, I’m fine. I promise.” The words come out a bit more forceful than he intended, and Alex looks almost hurt, but after a few more seconds, he stands up and gives Henry an awkward little wave before rejoining the mass of people on the dance floor.

Henry watches him for the next three songs until the DJ starts counting down to midnight. He sees Nora wrap her arms around Alex’s neck as he puts his hands on her waist and pulls her in for a kiss just as everyone screams

“Happy New Year!”

For the second time that night, Henry feels like his chest is on fire, but for an entirely different reason. He’s not sure how he gets outside, but when the cold hits his face, he stops and reaches out to grab hold of the first thing he can find to steady himself. The bark of the tree is rough on the palm of his hand and it’s oddly comforting and grounding.

“Sir, are you alright?” Shaan’s voice startles him, and when he turns around so fast he nearly collapses.

“I–” He starts to say he’s ‘fine’ but he knows Shaan wouldn’t believe that for a second. The only problem is; there’s not much Shaan can do about what’s currently making him ‘not fine.’ “I’m not in need of assistance at the moment.” He says finally.

“Are you certain of that Sir?” Shaan asks, and there’s something in his tone that tells Henry that he’s picked up on what’s going on, or at least grasped that it’s not a medical emergency that’s got him gasping and holding on to a tree for dear life.

“Not really, but there’s nothing that would be in your power to do about my current predicament.”

“Ah, I see.” Shaan says, then waits for a moment, probably assessing if he should stay or go. “I’ll return to the room then Sir, if you don’t require anything from me.”

“Yes, thank you Shaan.”

Once Shaan has left him alone again, Henry rests his back against the tree and slides down to the ground to sit. He tilts his head up to stare at the night sky, the distant fireworks flickering in the edge of his vision, and he wonders, as he often does, if his father is watching him from somewhere in the great beyond.

“Hey dad” He says, feeling slightly foolish talking to the sky, but the words keep coming and he couldn’t stop them if he tried.

[lei-lei-artz]

Blossoms of the deep

Chapter 2?

That kiss had been on Layton’s mind for the next little while and the words he said….

“I’ll see you back at this helicopter later, Layton”

That made Layton feel a little bit more happy, especially since the graveyard isn’t the definition of a “happy” place. Also she was thinking about if that kiss was also too sudden or not because with other past relationships, I took a damn while for a confession to be made or for someone to make the first move.

For the rest of that day she did her job that the admiral had assigned her with, it was boring but it was something. While doing her work she did end up seeing Roland from afar, but he was too busy to notice her.

The sun was beginning to set and Layton figured she should probably go and rest for the night soon but then Roland’s words popped into her mind, she should go meet him at the helicopter!

She immediately began sprinting back to the same helicopter as if she were running in track and field (Layton’s actually a really good runner, taking first during many track meets) when she arrived, she began searching the area for Roland, but she couldn’t find him. She sighed out of disappointment

“Go figure he’d forget.”

Just then someone grasped both her shoulders, causing Layton to yelp and jump back.

“Haha! You dumbass!”

It was Roland, he was there the whole damn time!!

“Of course you’d pull a stunt like that! I swear I could’ve broke your nose!”

Roland was still laughing his ass off as if it were the funniest thing he’d seen in a while.

“Seriously, the way you jumped and screamed was pure comedy gold.”

Roland’s howling laughter began to die down, eventually coming to a stop though it took quite a few deep breaths to do so. Layton still had her hand on her chest and she was still shooken up.

“Never do that shit again, sharkboy .”

“No promises, Lay—don’t call me that.”

“Don’t scare me then.”

Roland put his hands up in a jokingly surrender.

“My bad.”

Layton sat down with her back leaned against the helicopter, looking up at the night sky. Roland shrugged and took a seat beside her.

“The night sky is almost like a pitch black void, splattered with the light of twinkling stars and the colourful explosions that are nebulas and reminiscence of stars, isn’t it?”

Roland stared at her for a second, seemingly confused.

“Damn, you got poetic for a second there but you are right, you can see the sky clearly out here.”

The two of them continued their stargazing, lost in the experience as if the beauty of the night sky was dragging them into a trance. Roland finally spoke up after a while of silence.

“So…should we do something, I’m pretty bored.”

“Someone’s got a short attention span.”

“Oh shut it.”

“Hm…what’re your thoughts on music, like genres and artists?”

Roland thought about it for a moment, he hadn’t really listened to music much but he enjoyed it when he got the chance.

“I really like metal and maybe some rap or hip-hop. Indie rock is okay as well, I guess.”

“I like Indie-pop, indie-rock and metal, but also some pop is nice too. My favourite artists are Foster The People, Metric, Metallica and Taylor Swift.”

“I see you’re a music person, Layton?”

Layton smiled and nodded.

“I actually had a vinyl collection back at home…”

The thought of it saddened her, Roland noticed this.

“What’s wrong, Lay?”

“It just saddens me that I had to leave everything behind when my parents signed that damn order, it’s bullshit.”

“Yeah it sucks.”

Layton leaned her head against Roland’s shoulder, just wanting someone to comfort her after her parents not and losing someone she cared deeply for. Roland wrapped an arm around her and rubbed her arm in a soothing way. Layton moved so she was straddling his lap and she nuzzled her face into his neck. Roland was a little bit surprised by the sudden motion but he didn’t care and just let her do her own thing, after all she needed the comfort.

Roland laid back on the ground onto a more comfortable position. Layton was still nuzzled into his neck, Roland’s arms were wrapped around her, holding her tight. He gave her a quick little peck on the top of the head, taking a moment to just relax and enjoy the moment. Peace was a feeling that neither Roland nor Layton could achieve, especially with all the bullshit that was occurring but this was definitely something related to that feeling.

It felt wonderful, a moment of tranquility for the both of them.

[ecargmura]

Paradox Live The Animation Episode 1 Review - Anime Rapping Show

To be honest, I was never a big fan of hip-hop and I’m still not. However, Paradox Live seems different. Also, the reason why I got know this franchise is that I remembered listening to BAE’s song in the past and was surprised with the sudden usage of Korean. However, what got me hooked into ParaLive was the song “Jumping In To My World” which I’ll link below.

Other than that, I’m not too familiar with ParaLive in general, so this anime might be a good opportunity to see if I’ll get into it or not. Right now, I’m a bit interested. I love the character designs and the choice of voice actors!

So, from what I’ve seen, Paradox Live is about underground rappers who are invited to partake in a tournament in the mysterious Club Paradox, said to have disappeared ten years ago and then reappeared recently with the location and building being the same. Four groups are invited and the anime shows their lives in and out of rapping. Also, what makes this rap show unique is that they use the power of Phantometals. Not sure if they have them right now, but with the way they are described, it sounds like crack but metal.

The main group is called BAE, consisting of Allen Sugasano, Hajun Yeon and Anne Faulkner. They’re all roommates and go to school together. Allen seems to be the leader of the three as he’s the one making music and keeping the team together; he seems to be a music making geek in a way as he’s the one most excited to meet Buraikun. Hajun is the perfect prince—he’s rich, caring towards his friends, a model and tall. I think what makes Hajun super unique is that he’s Korean. Korean characters are rarely featured in anime, so for them to go out of their way to make him Korean and not a bad stereotypical caricature makes me happy. I love that he uses his rich boy privileges to do crazy things like riding in a limo and entering Club Paradox from helicopter. From the research I did on ParaLive before the anime premiere, I am aware that Anne is non-binary, but I’m still gonna call them a queen. I love their design out of the main three. I love that they’re not used as a joke either. I’m surprised Japan is becoming progressive with how they write Hajun and Anne.

There are other rap groups: The Cat’s Whiskers, cozmez, and AKYR. There are so many characters, so for now, I’ll just say my first impression of them. Regarding The Cat’s Whiskers, I was surprised to see a character like Saimon. Usually, I really like ikemen characters, so to see such a refined and elegant gentleman like Saimon made me feel something. Right now, he and Hajun are my favorites but that might change in the future. Other TCW rappers are Yohei, Ryu and Shiki. Right now, I think Ryu stands out the most after Saimon from the sheer fact that he’s a weirdo and voiced by Natsuki Hanae. For AKYR, they’re a big group. I know that the pink haired boy is Reo and he’s voiced by Shougo Yano, who voices Mafuyu from Given. I’m interested to learn more about this group. cozmez is a twin duo group consisting of older brother Kanata and younger brother Nayuta. They both live in the slums and want to compete so that they can live a better life and for Nayuta to get treatment; the younger brother seems to be ill? Anyways, I think their character designs are the best because they’re so unique! This is how you should design twins! Give them two different hair styles instead of having the same hairstyle but in different directions. 

What I like best about this show is that everyone is connected and knows each other’s identities in real life, so it’s not a hush-hush secret life kind of show. BAE are students who attend Saimon’s classes and know that they rap. Shiki seems to know Nayuta. This gives the story opportunities to give each character some spotlight since they’re all interconnected! I just hope that the anime will give me characterization and not just singing/rapping for the next 11-12 episodes.

The voice acting is splendid! They use a plethora of talented voice actors and utaites to make this show work! BAE’s voice actors are Gakuto Kajiwara (Allen), Ayumu Murase (Hajun) and 96Neko (Anne). The fact that they even got utaites for this project really makes it stand out! I can’t wait to hear more from the other characters. Once again, the stand out performance is from Ryu (Natsuki Hanae)’s five second screen time like I mentioned earlier.

The music’s great so far and I can’t wait to hear more! Will they ever perform Jumping In To My World? I want to hear that! The CG’s actually really good! It’s not too stiff and it does feel like the characters are moving flawlessly.

Overall, I’m excited for more! I’m also worried about what Allen’s doing at the end because that does not look pretty at all. I hope he’s alright. What are your thoughts on this anime’s premiere?

[eldritchships]

Selfship-vember 2023 - Decorations + First Snow

Pairing: Flatline & Wheeljack (platonic), ShockLine (implied)

Words: 1856

Author's Note: Barely got this one finished on time, and I'll probably take another pass at it in the future, but I did it! Written for @kit-ship's Selfship-vember. I'm using the "Taking it easy" version of the prompt list, which you can find here!

Dark clouds loomed over the lakehouse, casting a grey shadow over the grounds that suited the frigid chill in the air. All the windows were open, and instead of a door, a massive hole had been carved in the front of the otherwise picturesque building. Consequently, the temperature didn’t budge when Wheeljack stepped inside the home, carrying a chair slung across his bulky shoulder pauldron.

With a grunt, he set it down in the corner, out of the way of foot traffic. Wheeljack dusted his servos off, and then rested one on his hip, taking a look around the lakehouse’s interior. It was painfully empty, short of a few crates and the furniture Wheeljack had already brought in. Walls and the first storey ceiling had been torn down, allowing him to stand at full height without issue. A thin layer of dust covered the floors and windowsills, though disturbed over the last couple hours by the cold wind and two sets of large Cybertronian pede-steps.

Wheeljack’s optics stopped on the other Transformer in the room, and he frowned softly. Flatline pushed another crate to a far side of the house, careful not to break anything contained within it. His pink paint was scratched and dull, the grey metal underneath visible in spots. The helicopter rotor blades on his back were mismatched, jagged from where they’d snapped and broken off. The thought of any Transformer being effectively robbed of their vehicle mode seemed wrong to Wheeljack, no matter their past allegiances.

Flatline turned, and caught Wheeljack watching him. Flatline’s jaw set, expression stuck in a faint scowl as he walked past the Autobot and back outside, all without saying a single word. Not that Wheeljack had expected otherwise - Flatline hadn’t said a word since Wheeljack arrived, hitched to a trailer full of Cybertronian-sized furniture he’d built himself. He’d simply scowled and started to help Wheeljack unload the trailer.

Wheeljack walked back outside, checking his internal temperature gauge. He let his engine run a little harder, hoping it’d fight off the frost. Across the front yard, Flatline dragged out a small desk and placed it on the grass.

“I don’t know if I like the look of those clouds.” Wheeljack commented, looking up to the sky above them. Flatline huffed, ventilation fans whirring from exertion. He didn’t even glance, awkwardly gathering the desk in his arms and walking back towards the house. Back and forth, stalking across the brittle earth as if the bot were on a mission. Wheeljack hopped into his path when Flatline reached the point of passing him, quickly taking hold of the other end of the desk.

“Lemme help you with that.” He offered, even giving a smile to match. Flatline’s servos jerked, almost trying to take it away from him, but he silently conceded, slowing down his march to a more cooperative amble. As Wheeljack watched his footing over his shoulder, he made a contemplative noise in the back of his throat. He’d been expecting…well, he hadn’t known what to expect, really. But he’d assumed an ex-Decepticon would be happy to be out of prison. Especially a bot like Flatline, who responded to incarceration the same way Optimus responded to a lazy Sunday; Flighty at best, but usually actively hostile to the mere concept.

The two of them put the desk down beside the chair Wheeljack had brought in before. Flatline leant on its surface, dragging a servo down his face. Wheeljack raised an eyebrow, taking the opportunity to nudge.

“How’re you feeling, Flatline?” Flatline scoffed, the sound quiet and bitter, but it was a sound at least. Wheeljack tilted his helm slightly, encouraging of any conversation. He tapped a digit against the desk. “I know it’s not much, but this’ll at least give you something more than an empty house. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more before coming over.”

Something about his apology caused Flatline to wince, as if something had stung in the words. Wheeljack blinked in surprise when he received a dirty look. Flatline’s optics were as dull and grey as his paint, but it was very clear in that look that Flatline wanted him to stop whatever he apparently thought Wheeljack was doing. Wheeljack frowned again and shifted his stance, standing propped against the desk as he folded his arms. Flatline clicked his glossa and disarmed the glare, searching around the room before finally setting his sights on the closest crate. Wheeljack remained silent as his helm followed Flatline, watching him cross the room and pry the crate open.

“Optimus wanted to come, you know.” Wheeljack piped up. His voice sounded a little too loud in the empty space. If Flatline heard him, he didn’t acknowledge it. “But, well, you know how Prime can be. He can’t refuse a mission.” From his perch at the furniture pile, Wheeljack saw Flatline roll his optics. Wheeljack snorted. “Not a fan of the big guy, are ya?” Flatline straightened, now holding something. After a moment’s hesitation, he shook his helm. Wheeljack’s own optics softened at the corners, pleased to have gotten something closer to an answer. Flatline fiddled with whatever item he was holding, staring at it vacantly with his lips pulled into a frown. Wheeljack noted that one of Flatline’s servos was oddly shaped - the middle digit was missing. Not modified, not sharpened, but gone. That was…odd.

“I’ll go grab the rest,” Wheeljack said, sounding rather distracted as his optics remained narrowed on the missing digit. He stepped away from the desk and uncrossed his arms, gesturing vaguely, “You sit down and take a load off.”

The air had only gotten colder, and the afternoon sun was suffocated behind the thickening clouds. Wheeljack made sure to unpack the last of the trailer quickly, bringing it all inside before the weather could truly take a turn for the worse.

“Maybe we can close some of those windows now.” Wheeljack thought out loud, speaking over his plating rattling on its frame, and glanced back over to the open hole in the wall, “Of course, we’ll need to do something about a door, first of all.” Another gust of wind blew into the house, and Wheeljack moved further inside, flexing his servos to make sure they weren’t freezing up. He side-stepped everything he and Flatline had unpacked so far - Flatline was at the very back end of the house, so he decided he might as well join him. He was half-surprised to see that Flatline had moved some furniture around already, a table and two chairs, ready and waiting.

Slowly, hoping he didn’t commit another unknown mistake, Wheeljack took a seat. His fans swirled out a heave of air, heated by his internal systems which had been working non-stop for the last couple hours. Flatline was still moving around the place, apparently disregarding Wheeljack’s invitation to take a break. He didn’t seem to want to stop for a moment, aiming to get everything moved in and unpacked in one go. He rifled through the crates, regarding items with some sort of criteria that decided which were put on the nearest table or desk and which were left behind. Only when all of the crates were open and searched did Flatline finally come over and take the empty chair beside Wheeljack. He collapsed into the seat, limbs spread limply. His chin was sunk against his chestplate, optics looking ahead emptily. Wheeljack couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath at the display, but he stifled the noise and leant across in his chair.

“Hey.” He waited until Flatline tilted his helm in acknowledgement. “You did it. I know it’s not easy, but you’ve started to find a place for yourself on Earth - and you will find a place for yourself. I did.” Flatline blinked, but he didn’t turn to meet Wheeljack’s gaze. The scowl engraved into his faceplate sunk a little deeper, becoming more easily apparent. He exhaled, and it sounded shaky and thick. Wheeljack wasn’t sure what was the correct thing to do, so he simply waited; collecting more data, like the scientist he was.

“You didn’t have to do this.” Flatline muttered. His voice sounded hoarse, and unlike Wheeljack’s predominantly chipper tone, too quiet in the empty house. Wheeljack’s lips curved up at the edges, and he shrugged.

“Somebody had to help you settle in.” His helm dipped, casting a look across Flatline’s various scuffs and injuries, “Besides, you looked pretty dinged up already. I thought you could use a break.” Flatline grunted, giving a half-hearted glance across his own body. The cracked pulse monitor on his chest fizzled, occasionally letting out a muffled beep when it could successfully detect activity from his spark. Wheeljack glanced away for a second, and a shadow settled over his expression, words sitting heavy on his glossa. “Look, I know he and I never saw eye to eye, but Shockwave-”

“Don’t.” Flatline interrupted firmly. His helm turned, looking at Wheeljack. His demeanour steeled, even for a Cybertronian, but behind it was an overwhelming exhaustion, born from more than moving boxes around. “Everybody’s tried to give me sympathy, and I’m sick of it. I don’t want to talk about it.” His attention bore into Wheeljack, unblinking and sincere. The Autobot paused, but then nodded, and respectfully fell quiet. Satisfied, Flatline turned forward again, slumped into his chair.

The silence settled over them again for a few minutes. There were no windows up this end of the house, but through the ones that were still open, tiny white flecks started to drift. They mingled with the dust, dotting the floorboards with dirty light grey.

The chair Wheeljack was sitting in creaked when he moved, and he craned his helm downwards, suspecting one of the joints weren’t fixed properly. An idea popped up in his processor, and he eyed Flatline, sitting up properly again.

“Y’know…” He started, a smile creeping across his faceplate as Flatline’s optics shifted back across to him. “You seem like a bot who likes a good project. I’ve done a fine job of these furnishings, but I bet with all the time you have on your servos, you could improvise somethin’ really suited to your tastes.” As he finished his pitch, he studied Flatline’s expression, searching for any reaction. His spark pulsed in its chamber when he saw it - the glimmer of intrigue, of ideas already starting to cook inside Flatline’s mind. Flatline frowned, but then it shrank.

“...That’s…not a terrible idea.” He conceded. Wheeljack’s smile widened.

“G.H.O.S.T. already gave you this house, might as well customise it, right?”

Flatline gave a short hum. He was watching the hole in the wall, watching Witwicky’s first snow of the season invite itself into the house. With a little work, it could hopefully be inviting itself into Flatline’s home.

“Alright, fine. It’s not like I have anything better to do.” Flatline eventually sighed. He averted optic contact, and muttered an added, “...Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Wheeljack replied warmly. Flatline crossed his arms, scowling in a way that seemed more annoyed at his own begrudging acceptance, instead of seeming completely miserable. Wheeljack would happily accept that slim difference.

[suvidrache]

Airplanes In The Night Sky

age in bio when interacting. minors do not interact.

Word Count: 510 | Read it on AO3 | Masterlist

Reno had been at work all day. You wanted to surprise him with a night under the stars. He was always busy with work or surprising you with something. It was your turn.

You grabbed the spare blankets and laid them out on the ground. You grabbed some pillows and laid them out as well.

You sat down and looked up at the sky. It wasn't night yet, but you knew that Reno loved to fly his helicopter. He took any opportunity that he had to drive it to and from work.

It wasn't long before you heard the beating of helicopter blades. You shielded your eyes as Reno landed the helicopter. He turned it off and hopped out. He made his way over to you.

“Hey, have. What are you doing out here?” He asked as he joined you on the ground.

You looked at him and smiled.

“I've been waiting for you.” You wrapped your arms around him, and he hugged you back.

“Well, I'm here now.”

“I want to watch the stars with you and maybe something else…” You kissed his cheek and looked away.

“Huh? Like what?” He asked as he looked up at the sky.

“Maybe we could make love?"

“I'd love to."

You laid down, and Reno laid next to you. You both waited until the stars came out.

You looked at Reno, and your hand slid beneath his shirt. His hand grasped your wrist, and slowly, he lowered your hand onto his hardened bulge. You sat up and began removing your clothes while Reno removed his.

Your hand worked at stroking his length. He let out a moan, and you moved harder and faster. Your other hand worked at getting yourself off. You slid the pre-cum down Reno's length and moved so his tip aligned with your hole. You slid him into you with a moan. You waited a moment before beginning to move up and down. His hands grasped your thighs. His eyes watched your movements. You picked up the pace while Reno moved his hands up your body to your chest. You were both moaning. His one hand was on your chest, while the other grasped your hip. He thrust up into you with a partial smile on his face as he did. He loved to see you like this. You kept going, and so did he.

The stars glimmered in the sky as you both continued your round. Once you both had cum, you moved and laid down next to him.

“I liked that."

“Me too.” You said with a smile as you placed a hand on his abs. He placed his hand on yours and laid there for a moment. When he was ready, he rolled onto his side to look at you. He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him.

“I love you."

“I love you too.” He said, and he kissed your head.

You smiled and kissed his collarbone. You both hardly noticed the chill in the air, still warm from previous actions.

© SUVIDRACHE — do not copy, translate, modify, or plagiarize my work. reblogs are appreciated!

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