#so they get new bunkmates for the first time that year

[the-terrible-theys]

(trans!)zach and aviva were bunkmates at science camp. i know because i was there

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field X

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.1k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: hi all!! i have some slightly annoying news (I'm so sorry) but i think i have to close my taglist for this fic and for other coryo stuff (which i am working on bc I've seen the requests!!) bc its gone up almost 150 people and i can only tag 50 people per post and it is SO much work to tag everyone individually even after i paste them in and i don't want to have to reblog it 2 or 3 times to tag everyone :(. I'm so sorry like i said ik its annoying but if you'd like to be the first to know ab new parts and you're not already in my taglist, feel free to turn on my post notifs!! that way you'll also see everything else including my asks ab the fic where i answer more questions and we talk theories and all that fun stuff :)

next part

Coriolanus was having a hard time adjusting to the life of a peacekeeper, but he was getting there. He sent off that letter for you almost as soon as he arrived, but was yet to receive a response so that seemed like an answer enough. He had to forget you, especially if he wasn't going back to the Capitol anytime soon.

He was homesick, to say the very least. Both of his bunkmates were out, likely working, but he didn't care much to know exactly where. He was just relieved to have a moment to himself to wallow in his self-pity, chest constricting tighter and tighter with every breath.

A door slammed shut down the hall, followed quickly by his own door opening- at which he held his breath. He had to get it together.

"Is this bunk taken?" Someone asks, a voice not belonging to either of his bunkmates, but he recognizes it nonetheless.

He shot up straight, taking in the appearance of the boy in front of him. "Sejanus!" He had never been happier to see his classmate, hopping out of his top bunk to quickly give him a hug.

"This is a surprisingly warm welcome for someone who almost got you killed." Sejanus chuckled, hugging him back.

Coryo laughs slightly, pulling away and grabbing his shoulders. "Oh, no. Quite the opposite. What are you doing here?"

"About the same as you." He shrugs, sliding his things under the bed below Coryo's. "They were going to expel me, but my dad paid them for my grad certificate and let them send me here. They got a new gym on the condition that they let us both graduate."

Coryo should be relieved, but a graduation certificate doesn't matter much if he's stuck here for the next twenty years. "And Y/N/N?" He asks.

"Y/N?" Sejanus asks, lifting his head back in confusion. "What about her?"

"Did she graduate too?"

"I... I don't know, I didn't know she was in trouble. We were told she was sick."

Coriolanus's stomach drops. That's a story he'd certainly heard before, and he didn't like at all how that ended. He swallows, nodding a little bit as he looks at the floor. "So you didn't see her at all?"

"No... Not since the last time I saw you." Sejanus states. It had been a few weeks now. "But, her mother came to our door a week or so ago, real early in the morning. Ma shooed me away but I heard them talking, it seemed like she didn't know where Y/N was either. She was looking for her, wondering if any of us had seen her."

Again, this is what Coryo had seen before with what happened to Clemensia. Her parents weren't allowed to see her at all while she was in the hospital. "I think she's dead." He admits.

"What? What makes you say that?" His friend gasps.

"I... I heard her screaming when I left our meeting with Highbottom." Coriolanus explains. "At first it was normal Y/N screaming, you know, but then it got worse and worse until it just... stopped." He hoped Sejanus would change his story, that he would remember seeing you at school or on the streets or at one of your parent's obnoxious parties, having a good time, and being yourself. That maybe he had just forgotten, but the look on Sejanus's face tells him that didn't happen.

It was Sejanus's turn to look down now, giving a solemn nod. "I mean, no." He laughs suddenly, shaking his head. "They wouldn't kill her on campus- if you could hear it, she's not dead. They wouldn't kill her just like that, right?" He says, trying to convince himself of that truth. "Surely she's just sick. Maybe grounded, or something."

"Yeah, yeah. Probably..." Coriolanus concedes, hoping that somehow Sejanus was right.

Simultaneously, you were adjusting beautifully to life in District Twelve. You got in the habit of borrowing Lucy Gray and Barb Azure's clothes, and they let you sleep on the floor between their beds. For the first time in your life, you were free. No one knew you, no one had a single expectation of you besides Tam Amber appreciating your help with the goats and occasionally going to the market with Lucy Gray and Maude Ivory to get food. It was refreshing, to say the very least. Everyday you felt yourself unwinding more and more.

"Do you play any instruments, Y/N?" Maude Ivory asks you, skipping to catch up to you as you hike down a trail out to the lake with the rest of the covey.

"I do, actually." You nod at her, a small smile on your face. "Try three."

"Three!" She claps excitedly. "What do you play? You'll have to perform with us! Do they have different instruments where you're from?"

"Not really." You giggle, putting your hands in the pockets of your bright red skirt. "I play the piano, and the violin, which is just like Clerk Carmine's fiddle, but much more boring, and a harp, if you've ever heard of that."

"You play the fiddle?" The young girl smiles.

"Not like he does." You smile at the boy as he walks ahead of you, not paying any attention.

"I'm sure you're just as well." Lucy Gray interjects, bumping her shoulder with yours as she walks next to you. "Maude Ivory, you should hear her projection. I'm yet to hear her sing, but boy, can she yell."

"I can't sing." You laugh, shaking your head. "Back home you don't sing unless you're training for the opera, and you have to start that around the same time you learn to walk. My parents would rather me learn the piano."

"Then why am I the one yellin' at all our shows? You should step up." Maude Ivory giggles, and you just shake your head, ruffling her hair.

"I definitely couldn't do it nearly as well as you." You insist. "Besides, I have stage fright." You joke, mostly to get her off your back.

She laughs as she fixes her hair, running to catch up with the kids in front of her.

"She just adores you." Lucy Gray smiles. "It's nice to have a new face around."

You smile, watching Maude Ivory collect flowers from the side of the road. "She reminds me of my brother. They're about the same age."

"Right, you lent me his guitar." Lucy Gray says, a particular sadness in her tone tipping you off that she believes you should be upset about leaving him. You miss him, sure, but he's better off now with you gone. Besides, he couldn't be any worse than you. Your parents have always doted over him, and there's no doubt in your mind that now that you are gone, it's multiplied.

"Yes. That's him." You reply, accompanying a moment of silence between the two of you.

"Do you miss him?"

"Sure." You nod, kicking a small stone down the path in front of you. "But he's better off without me there. That brings me enough peace to sleep at night."

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot." You smile at her, grateful for the change of topic.

"What happened to Coriolanus?" For the first time in weeks, you feel a pinch of discontent in your gut at her question.

"I don't know." You lie, shrugging your shoulders. You don't even know why you felt the urge to lie at all, you knew he was here somewhere but you hadn't seen him once. Out of sight, out of mind is what you have been trying to convince yourself. "He's alive, I'm sure. Peacekeeping in one of the districts probably."

"Oh, I was hoping you would know more."

"It would be nice." You agree. "But he's not exactly in my good graces at the moment."

"It feels so out of character for him to betray you like that, doesn't it?" Lucy Gray asks.

You laugh, shaking your head. "It was unusual. That's what I thought, anyway." You sigh, giving a slight shrug. "I haven't told anyone, but we had... I don't know, a moment, a few weeks ago. During the games. Just a couple of days later and he's throwing me under the bus like I meant nothing to him. We've been friends for years- I thought everything was about to change for the better, and then..."

"That's cruel." She says disapprovingly. "I bet he's sorry now that you're gone with the wind. He's regretting it. I promise you that much."

You smile slightly at the thought, allowing yourself to entertain it, if only for a moment. "He better be."

"Is that for me? Oh, c'mon y'all, you know that I gave up drinkin' when I was twelve..." Lucy Gray says, taking a sip out of the clear liquor bottle someone in the audience handed to her. "Oh, It's to clear my pipes, just to clear my pipes." She clarifies, tossing the bottle back into the audience.

Coriolanus watches leaning against the side wall of The Hob. He's happy to see that Lucy Gray is back to doing what she loved, and she made it home alive and well. He's also more than pleased to finally get off the barracks for something other than work. "Now, who's ready for a song, huh?" She smiles, looking down off the stage to her right. "Okay, comin' right up. First, I'd like to introduce to the stage with a big welcome, a grand ole friend of mine, The lovely Sage!" She says, giggling at her rhyme as another girl climbs up on stage, giving Maude Ivory and Lucy Gray a quick hug each.

Coriolanus looks away as the crowd cheers, scanning the crowd for Sejanus who had just excused himself to grab a drink a couple minutes ago. He's wondering where his roommate could have disappeared to when Lucy Gray's friend starts speaking.

"Well hello, everyone, so lovely to meet you all! I have never felt so welcome anywhere." His head snaps back to the stage. He'd know that Capitol accent anywhere, even as you pause to allow any cheers to quiet down. "I mean that." You grin, hands clutched to your chest. "And that feels so good, considering Lucy Gray all but forced me up here." You laugh, draping an arm over her shoulder, letting her take back over. How could this be real? Coryo is tempted to rub his eyes or pinch himself to make sure he's even awake. He was so sure you were dead, but despite the different name and completely different clothes, he was positive it was you. The pang in his chest made that obvious, along with the wave of surrealism that suddenly surrounded him so all he could see was you.

"Now, my beautiful girl Sage here will be taking over for our friend on the fiddle, we'll give the band a quick break, and we're gonna have a bit of a change of pace while she's lending us her talents." Lucy Gray says, and Coriolanus watches as you take the beat-up violin from the young boy gratefully. He knew you played, but he hadn't heard it for years. You looked so calm, something he wasn't sure he had seen in public since you were young. He can't pull his eyes from your figure as it graces the stage with your presence, lighting up the room even if it was only for him.

A small smile grows on his face as you start to play, several whistles echoing through the room before Lucy Gray even joins in with her singing. He wants to scream, to cheer and clap and yell and tell everyone in this dark, rundown building that this 'Sage' was his. Inarguably and undoubtedly his. Coryo's pride is only curtailed when he recognizes the song; it was the ballad Lucy Gray played in her interview on your brother's guitar.

The sophistication your violin playing brought to the piece almost made it sadder and infinitely more haunting. It's beautiful. Now with your classical touch, the song sets a pit of guilt in his stomach. That somehow, even without you singing, it's now a ballad from you to him.

"Just let me remind you what I am to you..."

He makes eye contact with Lucy Gray as he shifts his gaze away from you. She pauses for only a moment, hands still moving rhythmically over the strings of her guitar. She smiles and nods at him, jaw slightly agape as she glances back at you to see if you noticed him. When it's clear you haven't, she gets back on track with the words within only a moment.

"'Cause I am the one who looks out when you're leaping. I am the one who knows how you were brave..."  Your lips turn up in a small smile as she sings, eyes still shut while you focus. Even though he's sure you're thinking of him, it doesn't bring him much consolation. Well, at least you were thinking of him. He would take it.

The song ends as quickly as it starts, and despite the slower tone, the audience is still excited. More so as the band returns to the stage and you return the violin to Clerk Carmine before turning back around to give a bow. You wave out to the audience, reveling in the whistles and praise before reaching out for an extended hand, accepting it as its owner helps you down. "That was stunnin', where'd you learn to play like that? I've never heard anything quite like it." The man asks, still holding your hand out in between you.

"Oh, thank you. I've been playing my whole life." You grin as the music picks up again.

"Can you dance like you can play?" He asks, lifting your arm to spin you.

"I can certainly try." You laugh, going along with it as he pulls you into a more open space of the crowd, and to Coriolanus, it seems like you're taunting him. You're dancing like you don't have a care in the world, dressed in a skirt that looked like it was made out of a red bed sheet cut up and stitched back together in half-hazard squares, and what looked like one of your t-shirts cut up into a tank top that exposes most of your stomach and back. Appallingly too, a smile present on your face that he had dreamt of seeing again one day but was certain he never would. The only problem is that you're dancing with someone else. Not that he was much of a dancer, but he could try if he had known that's what you wanted.

He's planning his method of attack. He can't leave without speaking to you, because he doesn't even know if you'll be back here the next time he gets a day off. Though, based on your appearance and newfound carelessness, it's likely.

His urge is just to kiss you, but the only thing holding him back is that it could set you off. If you hadn't heard his apology from miles away, would you still be angry at him? But actions speak louder than words. He knows that physicality works with you, and it was hard to deny that he hadn't dreamt of how soft your lips felt on his for weeks. One time was just simply not enough for Coryo.

Coriolanus scowls as the man you're dancing with spins you again, making you laugh as he drapes an arm around your waist.

Maybe he should get Sejanus, see if he's seen you yet.

Another spin, and a hand sliding lower down your bare back as the man pulls you closer, his fingers landing on the waistband of your skirt. When was the last time that scumbag had so much as washed his hands? Coryo wonders to himself, rage boiling up under his skin.

Kiss her. Definitely kiss her.

But if the song choice was any indicator, you definitely weren't pleased with him. It couldn't be, though, because how would you know he would be in attendance? Coryo finds his feet carrying him through the crowd, pushing past a dozen carelessly drunk people in his effort to get to you before he's even thought it all through.

Your brow furrows as a body forces itself between you and your dancing partner. "Hey! What are you-" You cut yourself off, hypnotized by the cold blue eyes staring down at you.

That's my girl. Even though you're angry, Coriolanus is grateful to be the object of your gaze once more.

"'Scuse me, man, do you mind?" The man says, making an effort to push Coryo away. He turns, and before you can intervene he's swinging his fist right at the other guy's face, finding its target in a fraction of a second.

He stumbles back, grabbing his face as it immediately drips blood from his nose onto the floor. There are gasps in the crowd as it disperses around you.

"Hey, settle down, settle down now." You hear Lucy Gray call out amidst the music playing in the background while you grab the back of Coryo's shirt, pulling him back before he continues to beat up your dancing partner.

"Coriolanus, what are you doing here?" You shout over the music. He shakes out his fist, turning back to you now and grabbing your face, pulling you closer to kiss you instead of dignifying you with a response. His actions would certainly speak louder.

You want to be angry, but that falters as you feel his lips on yours again, his hands planted firmly on either side of your waist as he holds onto you so tight you weren't sure breathing was an option- even if you could. You followed him here, of course you wanted to see him, but how could he betray you so easily and expect forgiveness in a kiss?

It takes you longer than it probably should to build up the courage to place your hands on his chest, shoving him back. "What is wrong with you?" You spit, looking him up and down in the blue uniform signified of a peacekeeper off duty.

"What's wrong with me?" He asks, looking around and gauging how many people were even taking notice. "What do you mean, Y/N/N, I wanted to-" Clearly you hadn't heard his silent apology, or it just wasn't enough.

"Hey!" You hiss, jumping at him and attempting to cover his mouth at the use of your nickname, and he quickly swats away your hand. "Let's go. Outside, now." You shove him back by his chest, pointing towards the exit.

You look up at Lucy Gray on stage, still singing as she watches you nervously. You give her a nod and a small reassuring smile before linking arms with Coryo and guiding him toward the door. Just like old times.

taglist: @keziahcore, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world @nan-nie, @shakespearseclipse, @iovemoonyy, @notyoursweetheart-honey,  @xyzstar, @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland, @queenofshinigamis, @elodiebeau, @soulessjourney

i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just cant tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!

[hyperfixiation-station]

Hi!!

I am totally obsessed with your fics!!! Your writing 🤌💕

I just wanted to request a fic where the reader is new to the task force but she's experienced and tough. Vibez similar to Ghost to elaborate she's more scary than Ghost cuz of her past maybe she was experimented on or trained brutally....

Reader is working hard to prove herself even if everyone knows she's the most lethal person. So one time she gets injured badly while protecting someone from the 141( probably Ghost 👉👈) and she wakes up has an emotional moment Ghost comes know about her Trauma . More like hurt/comfort....

Happy Writing 💝

Guilt-Tripped

CW: Mentions/references of kidnapping, torture, canon typical violenece Part 2, Part 3 Hiii Anon!! First off, thank you! Secondly, I am so, so, so sorry for how long this took😭 I did make this a two parter, the first part is kinda like backstoryish and the second part will be the actual story. I was gonna wait until I finished both to post but you have been waiting for way to long so I'll give you the first part now instead of waiting, again I am so sorry! I hope you like it :)) Summary: F!Reader was a part of a special program(LMK if you can guess what it is) and once she was released she joined the military.

WC: 1467 As always, I didn't proof read so lmk if there are any mistakes :3

Life had not been kind to you. Ripped from your family at a very young age, you had never known the type of love and safety a nurturing home could provide. Instead, you grew up in the confines of a Russian base, with cruel instructors and a dwindling group of girls as your only companions.

From the moment you could walk, you had been told you were a weapon. A lethal force to be honed and trained, nothing more than a tool for others to use to further their games. Brainwashed, tortured, and trained into submission, a perfect puppet. Both your brain and body were sculpted into absolute perfection, a rigorous process most people did not survive. By day, they trained to be a lethal force, an unstoppable, unnoticeable, killing machine. At night, you were handcuffed to your bed, listening to the screams of students who did not make the cut.(to this day you sleep handcuffed)

You watched, at first in horror, then with a sense of detachment, as your friendsrivals bit the dust, unable to keep up with what the program demanded of them. It got better as you got older, less girls died from their tasks. But in some ways it got worse. It was a competition now, a fight to see who would remain victorious, to see who would come out on top. It was not a place for friendship and comradery, and you learned that quickly.

You stopped trying to make friends with the other students when you were forced to shoot your best friend in the head after giving her some of your dinner when she was being punished. You were 8. And you stopped trying to even just be friendly with the other girls at 10 years old, when the instructor broke every bone in your hands after your bunkmate framed you for something you didn't do. To this day your hands are not the same, always hurting and forever scarred.

Your world was kill or be killed, and you'd be dammed if you didn't come out on top.

And come out on top you did. You graduated top of your class, a position you had fought and killed for, won through bloodshed and pain. If you had a conscience, it would have been screaming at you for the things you had done to get to the top(You laid awake every night consumed by guilt and grief)

The program was disbanded(re: destroyed) when you hit 18, just two weeks after your 'graduation'. You were given two options: Join the American military, or face a life sentence in prison. 

You had a lifetime of sins to atone for, and knew there was only one way to even begin to ease your guilt. Two days later your background was sealed up and you were shipped off to boot camp. 

And you excelled. This was nothing to you. What was a six mile run when you used to run until you passed out, then wake up and keep going? What was surviving on four hours of sleep when sleep deprivation had been the norm your whole life? What was any of this compared to what you had been forced to do everyday since you were five? 

You scared your instructors. And the other recruits. And everyone else you came into contact with. And you were fine with that. You didn't like when people got close to you anyhow.

Love got you nowhere in the world. It was a lesson you learned hard and fast. You did not care for others, they did not care for you. And you liked it that way. Until you met the 141.

A woman named General Laswell came to you one day with a job offer. Well, not a job offer exactly, but more of a…transfer of positions. A small, (mostly)four-man team that she oversaw.

You had gotten disciplined for beating the ever-loving shit out of a recruit the week before, and Laswell had watched it all unfold. She went back to her office, read your full file, and decided you would make a good fit for John's team.

You took a look at your bunk, at the trunk that held zero worldly possessions, realized there is nothing for you here, and said yes. 

Price had not wanted a new recruit, and told Laswell as much. She simply said he had a penchant for picking up strays and left your file on his desk. It took him a week to actually get curious enough to read it. A paper copy, the only one in existence that had your full, undisclosed background. He pretended he didn’t see her smug grin when he hit accept on your transfer application. 

You had been trained since youth to fight and to kill, yes, but your true purpose was espionage. You were trained to study those around you, to lie, to mold yourself to the expectations of those around you. You excelled at fitting into your surroundings, at assimilating perfectly with your peers. It was all you were good for, in your opinion. So you asked Laswell for files on your new teammates. And she gave them to you. They were full of gaping holes and redacted information, but there was enough there for you to profile them. 

Soap would be the most receptive to you. He most likely would also be the one to not give up in trying to get you to be open with them. Gaz would be receptive as well, but you know that your sealed background would put him on edge, Ghost, well…Ghost was a lot like you from what you could piece together. Yet another person who learned that the world was cruel and unforgiving, who had learned the lesson that love does nothing but hurt. And because he was like you, you knew he would trust you the least.

You felt a small pang in your chest when looking at this masked photo that you hadn’t felt in years. Not quite sadness, but…pity? No. It was different, it was sympathy. It weirded you out. 

It was hard at first, joining the 141. You had court-mandated therapy you had had to attend, and you had slowly come to realize that some trust was good, necessary even, for life. You knew you wouldn’t be able to open yourself up to them, that you would never be able to feel the sense of brotherhood you had seen amongst other soldiers, but you wanted to try. 

It was harder than you thought it would be. Hard joining men who already had comradery, who had a bond that had been forged with blood, sweat, and tears. men who weren't sure how to fit another person, much less a female, into their group. 

As you suspected, Soap was the most receptive. He was fun, you thought. His Scottish accent and affinity for filling the silence made him a very pleasant conversationalist. You didn’t have to do any of the talking.

Gaz was wary of you, but did a good job of not showing it. As you suspected, he stopped inviting you out after you said ‘no thanks’ for the third time. 

Ghost didn’t like you. You could see it in the slight tensing of his muscles when you walked in the room, the way his eyes pinched when you spoke. 

It was a rough, rocky start, full of distrust and misunderstandings. Everything about you set his senses on high alert. They way you could sneak up on him completely silent, the way you could hold your own when you sparred with him, even the way you moved had his hair standing on end. It wasn’t until a mission that would have ended with Soap's death if you hadn’t risked your life to shove him out of the way that Ghost began to trust you. 

And then he began to notice something else about you. And the more he noticed, the more concerned he grew. He noticed the way you threw yourself into battle, what little regard you held for your own life. He noticed how you never instigated conversation, never gave away the slightest bit of information that could be used against you. Noticed that you always wore gloves. In fact, he's never once seen your hands.

His constant observations of you had an unintended side effect. The longer he watched you, the more he realized you were a lot like him, the more he was drawn to you. And vice-versa. 

You found yourself willfully seeking Ghost out, willingly sharing information with him. Nothing about your past, no, you would never tell anyone the things you had done. But little things, how you liked the food served this week, how your mission went, that your new pants were really itchy. And he told you things too. Told you really bad jokes, told you Soaps stupid Scottish saying of the week. And slowly you branched out, agreeing to go to the bar the next time Soap asked you, telling Gaz that you liked his new sunglasses. 

It was nice, having people who looked at you like you meant something to them. Having people who didn’t know what you’d done, people who didn’t look at you with disgust and distrust. It was nice to have…friends. 

So of course everything had to go downhill from there.

End scene :3 let me know what you think!!6 and be on the look out for pt.2, I hope you're ready for a buttload of angst >:) Also requests are open <3

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 1

Masterlist |-| Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18

AO3

Summary: As Frankie reaches the end of her second week at Thorpe Abbotts Airfield, she begins to find her footing among the men of the 100th Bomb Group

Warnings: Excessive alcohol consumption, language

Word Count: 4k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee

The setting sun cast a golden blanket over Thorpe Abbotts airfield, basking everything in an idyllic, orange glow that was almost beautiful enough to distract from the heady stench of motor oil that lay thick on the air, permeating hair and clothes so thoroughly that anyone who spent even five minutes in the place would carry it with them for the rest of the day.

Frankie Bevan clamped a flashlight tight between her teeth, the narrow beam of light illuminating the underside of the B-17's gun turret as she surveyed it for any cracks or gaps in the glass that could compromise its integrity. The rest of the ground crew had called it a day almost two hours ago, but the Yanks always did prefer to work in the daylight. She was nearing the end of her third year in the Women's Auxiliary Air Force, and after so many nights spent running the airstrips in the darkness for the RAF, Frankie was well accustomed to toiling away into the night.

Thorpe Abbotts was new, and yet much the same. It was only her second week here, compensating for the Americans' manpower shortages. The job was always the same, no matter where she went or what planes she worked on - checks, fixes, refuelling, over and over again - but thus was the nature of a mechanic's job. What she was not yet quite used to was the Americans themselves. Loud and brash and self-assured, Frankie was sometimes glad they worked different hours.

Taking note of a few cracks in the glass panelling, she reached up to swipe the torch from her mouth, offering a satisfied nod as she completed her checks for the night. All that was left was to pin her list of concerns up on the board inside the mechanics' Nissen hut, and then it was off to the pub for her.

Once she changed out of her oil-stained coveralls, that was.

"They're working you like a dog down there on the strip," Georgina, one of Frankie's bunkmates, pointed out, flipping nonchalantly through a magazine as she lounged on her bed.

"Someone's gotta do it," She shrugged, kicking off her coveralls as she rummaged in the shared wardrobe for the correct service uniform. "Some of the mechanics they've brought over are practically kids, not sure I'd trust 'em to fix my plane if I was going up there."

"You'd better show 'em what for, then," George smiled, glancing over as Frankie finished buttoning up her blouse, reaching for the navy blue jacket.

"You coming for drinks?"

"Uh, nah - I'll go tomorrow. Sandra thinks we'll be starting early tomorrow so I wanna get a decent night's sleep."

"Ooh, luxury," Frankie teased, shimmying her shoulders as she made her way to the door of the hut. "Alright, see you later."

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The pub was crammed from door to door as she forced her way inside, the sound of chattering overpowering the music blaring from a radio in the corner. The American invasion of Thorpe Abbotts had well and truly been successful, scarcely a flash of RAF blue visible amongst the sea of khaki as Frankie burrowed her way through the crowds towards the bar.

"Pint of Guinness, please," She called over the din, the bartender offering a friendly nod of affirmation as she felt the crowd behind her push her body further into the edge of the bar.

"There y'are, love," The man nodded, placing the pint glass in front of her as she smiled her thanks, foam lining her top lip as she took her first sip. Frankie barely had time to wipe it away, turning to take a step back from the bar, before another body collided with hers. She gasped as the beer she had so looked forward to sloshed over the rim of the glass, pooling on the floor and staining the front of her uniform, as the other man's drink did the same.

"Woah, careful there!" The man cried, flicking a few stray droplets of spilt beer from his hand onto the floor. A deep frown creased her features as she peered up at him. The soldier was so tall that the tip of her head didn't quite pass his shoulder, and yet the irritation in her expression was so palpable that he took a full step back.

"Oh, that was my fault, was it?" Frankie tutted.

"Well, sweetheart, maybe if you'd been looking where you were going-"

"Maybe if you bloody Yanks gave us some room to breathe in here we wouldn't have a problem!"

There was an easy smile on the man's face that struck her as distinctly annoying. Discarding his now almost empty glass on the bar, the man put up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Look. We're not gonna agree on this, so what d'ya say we settle this with a little friendly competition?"

She raised a brow. "What sort of competition?"

"Uh... how 'bout a drinking contest?"

Frankie let out a guffaw so forceful that the man's confident smile disappeared, and a few nearby airmen turned to watch the scene unfold. "Y'know what? Yeah. You're on."

With a nod, he turned away, marching towards the closest table. "Alright boys, gimme some space, I got a contest to win against half-pint over here."

She approached the table, sitting down opposite the soldier, smirking at his arrogance. The airmen he had kicked out of their seats were lingering to watch the spectacle unfold, and it was clear their bets were on her opponent.

"Now," He sighed, taking a seat. "In the spirit of good sportsmanship, I oughta introduce myself. John Egan," He said, reaching a hand across the table.

"Frances Bevan. Frankie," She nodded, shaking his hand.

Egan nodded. "So, normal rules apply. No spilling, no vomiting, gotta drain the glass. Still wanna do this?"

Frankie nodded firmly. "I'd never pass up such a wonderful opportunity to humble you Yanks," She grinned.

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Egan was turning red, his smug smile long since vanished, the motion of his arm slowing as he reached for the next shot glass, glancing across at her with a slightly nauseated expression. The crowd surrounding them had long since grown since they had begun, although how long ago that was she couldn't quite remember. The huge pile of empty shot glasses in the centre of the table did nothing to jog her memory.

"Oh, come on, Egan, you've gotta do better than that," Frankie teased, reaching forward and downing her next shot. In fairness, she too was beginning to feel light-headed, but it never showed on her face, her demeanour as cool and collected as it had been when she first sat down.

"I thought... I thought this would be easy," John complained, grimacing as he brought the next glass to his lips. "You're so small, where are you storing all this liquor?"

"I'm British - pretty sure it's in our bloodstream," She teased. Egan's eyes narrowed as he weakly upturned the contents of his glass into his mouth, screwing up his face as the liquid ran down his throat.

"I really like her," John admitted, letting out a long sigh as he drew a hand over his eyes. A few of the airmen laughed, clapping him over the shoulders.

"I think we're done here," Frankie chuckled.

"You forfeit?" He asked hopefully.

"No, I'm saying you're about to. That or you're gonna throw up - either way, I win."

"Nuh-uh," Egan shook his head. "Not gonna happen," He fought to suppress a burp, and the room seemed to brace itself for the inevitable vomit that would follow, letting out a collective sigh of relief when he swallowed his nausea back down. "...Yeah. Ok."

She clapped, throwing up her hands in victory as a couple of the men standing behind her cheered. "Well, it's been a real pleasure doing business with you Major," Frankie chuckled, fighting through the splitting headache that was growing in her temples as she rose from her seat, offering him a hand to help him stand.

John batted her away, but stumbled as he got up, one of his friends pressing a firm hand on his back to keep him upright. She smiled. "I'll help you get him back since it's my fault. Gotta get back to the huts anyway."

The airman accepted, each of them slinging one of Egan's arms around their shoulders as he tilted haphazardly over to one side, struggling to prop himself up against her due to her height. Trailing towards the door, a few of the men let out celebratory whoops at her as she passed, praising her victory.

"Thanks for the night, gents - I'm here all war," Frankie called over her shoulders, a cheer erupting from the crowd as they dragged Egan sideways out of the door.

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It was growing difficult to see as they marched John back to the huts, the street lights growing more and more sparse the closer they got to the airfield. "You gotta teach me how to do that," He slurred, tilting his head down towards her, the smell of liquor thick on his breath.

"You gotta get more practice in - you Americans with your 'no alcohol until you're 21' rule never stood a chance, we've just been in the game longer."

"Ah," He nodded, pausing for a moment. "Hey, why'd you call yourself Frankie?"

"Because Frances is a terrible name," She scoffed.

"Can I call you Fran?"

"Only if you want to die."

"Fair enough."

As they reached the end of the row of men's huts, she shrugged his arm off of her shoulders, relinquishing custody of John to the other airman, who thanked her for her help.

"See ya 'round, Shortcake!" Egan called as they trailed away, grinning proudly to himself at the nickname. Frankie scoffed, rolling her eyes and massaging her temples as her headache steadily worsened.

"You look like shit," George whispered as she wandered back into their hut. She had rolled her hair up into pin curls, protected beneath a headscarf, and was reading a copy of Wuthering Heights in the dim light of her bedside lamp.

"Got into a drinking contest with one of the Americans," She shrugged, tossing her beer-stained blouse and jacket into a crumpled heap at the foot of her bed, a reminder to wash them tomorrow.

"Did you win?"

"Of course."

"Shh!" One of the other women hissed from the opposite end of the room, shrouded in the darkness. Frankie pulled a face at her scolding, dragging a brush through the knots in her dark brown hair as George stifled a laugh, discarding her book and turning off the light once her friend had changed and gotten into bed.

It was silent for a while as she lay beneath the blankets, staring up at what would have been the ceiling if not for the complete absence of light. Her alcohol-induced headache thrummed behind her eyes, a constant, dull pain keeping her from sleep.

"George?" She whispered.

"What?"

"Do you have an aspirin?"

The sound of quiet rummaging was audible in the stillness of the hut, and she struggled to suppress a laugh as she felt the tube smack her in the face, a result of Georgina tossing it blindly in the darkness.

"Thank you," She giggled, trying not to gag as she took the pills dry, lying back and waiting for the pain to subside as she thought back on the night's events.

I'm not that short.

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The blinding morning sun was unwelcome the next day as Frankie made her way to the airfield from her hut, bike resting against her hip as she made a momentary stop to fix her hair for the day ahead, hair tie held between her teeth as she scooped it into a ponytail. Most of the women she shared the Nissen hut with had left over an hour ago, hurrying to the flight tower in anticipation of the arrival of yet more American pilots, but her job didn't begin until after the planes landed, so fortunately for her, she had been afforded a little more sleep, her headache now more or less dissipated.

A loud honking startled her, the hair tie slipping from her teeth and falling to the floor. As she bent to pick it up, a jeep rolled to a stop in front of her, the horn parping once more.

"Fuck's sake, what?" Frankie muttered, glancing up to see the cheery grin of Major John Egan smiling down at her.

"Mornin'."

"Are you even fit to drive after last night?"

"Fifty-fifty. Hop in, throw your bike in the back."

She frowned as she noticed the pile of bikes already forming in the back of the car, but stacked her on top all the same, sliding into the passenger seat beside him. "Starting a collection?"

"Won them in a bet, night before last. Got one for me and my buddy Buck, he's arriving today."

"Is that Major Cleven?" She asked.

"Sure is," John nodded as the engine roared to life, taking them sailing along the road towards the airstrip, the wind ruining her hair before she even had a chance to finish it.

"So..." He began, swerving slightly to dodge a few maintenance workers on bikes. "Where ya from, Frankie?"

"Stratford."

"I... do not know where that is."

"I didn't expect you to," She chuckled. "Grew up with my dad working his garage, that's what got me into it. Always preferred planes to cars, though."

"You and me both," John nodded, slowing as they neared the landing strip. Up ahead, the flight crew were beginning to disembark, and Frankie's eyes narrowed as she noticed one of the airmen carrying a large dog.

"If they let that dog shit in the plane, I'm not cleaning it up," She stated. "You've heard me say it, that's on the record now."

"Yes ma'am," Egan affirmed, pulling to a stop, a grin spreading across his face as he got close enough to recognise his friends.

As he clambered out of the car, stepping forward to greet his comrades, she climbed out of her seat, wandering around the back of the jeep to disentangle her bike from the pile, tugging it free as the sounds of wind and aeroplane engines overpowered the men's voices.

"Oh, and, uh - This is Frankie Bevan," John called, guiding Cleven towards her, speaking louder so that she could hear. She raised her hand in a somewhat awkward wave, almost dropping her bike on her foot as she hauled it off the back of the jeep. "Best damn mechanic we've got, she's holdin' us together, that's for sure."

"Ma'am," Cleven greeted her with a tilt of his cap.

"He's never seen me work," Frankie shook her head, stepping forward to shake Cleven's hand. "We only met yesterday, he's just being nice in the hopes I won't tell you about how I drank him under the table last night."

John scoffed. "That is not what-" She raised a brow and he stuttered. "Yeah, that - that did happen."

Cleven laughed, squeezing Egan's shoulder. "Well, I'm sure glad he's had someone to keep him humble before I got here. Thank you for your work, ma'am, I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot more of each other soon."

She nodded, grinning at Egan's embarrassment. "How was your flight?"

"Smooth sailin', not sure there'll be anything to fix up this time."

A soldier she had heard John greet as Demarco spoke up from where he was stood, scratching his dog's stomach. "The dog dropped a deuce in the cockpit."

Clicking her fingers, she pointed to Egan. "She's not doing that!" He called, craning his head over his shoulder as Demarco put his hands up in surrender.

"Well, that works wonders," Frankie chuckled, lifting her leg to straddle the seat of her bike. "Now, if all you gents have planned is standing around, I've got work to do."

"Bye Shortcake," John grinned as she pedalled the bicycle into motion, ringing the bell and offering up a middle finger as she left. He chuckled, feeling Cleven clap him over the shoulder again.

"She's interesting... nice," His friend began. "Bucky, I know you're sick of Marge tryna set you up, but she is definitely-"

"She's definitely my friend, Buck. Besides, I could never date a woman with a higher alcohol tolerance than me. That's just embarrassing."

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The wind whipped her hair this way and that as Frankie hammered at the pedals, gaining speed faster and faster with each second until the rolling fields beyond the airstrip were little more than a green blur. She'd always loved to cycle, preferably as fast as she possibly could. Her father used to say she should try racing, but his ambition curtailed rather when she got in trouble for almost taking out a couple of tourists outside Shakespeare's birthplace on her way home from school. Besides, she'd never quite had the discipline for sports.

Her breaks squeaked noisily as she rolled to a stop outside the mechanics' Nissen hut, stationed just beyond the main runway. They had been given a single hut for all of their operations, much to the chagrin of many. The back end was an orderly pile of spare parts - buckets of rivets, piles of sheet metal - but someone had supplied them with a table and chairs, and the recent addition of a gas stove and kettle had proved a huge hit.

Ken Lemmons was sat at the table as she wandered in, glancing at the corkboard by the door where she and the others posted notice of anything in need of urgent repair.

"A couple of the guys replaced the glass in the gun turrets earlier - thanks for the shout," Lemmons spoke up.

"Ah, good," Frankie nodded, taking a seat opposite him. As much as she bemoaned her younger, American co-workers, she had grown fond of Ken. He was sipping a cup of coffee, and by the look on his face, he was not enjoying it. She tossed the paper bag containing her lunch onto the table, retrieving a cucumber sandwich - meagre subsistence, and a sight that made the boy frown.

"I think I'd actually murder someone for some Hershey's right about now," He remarked, grimacing as he took another sip of coffee.

"Hey, we make do with what we've got," She shrugged, attempting to devour the sandwich before the cucumber could soak through the thin slices of bread. "I know one of the girls in the Land Army - I darn her jumpers in exchange for a bit of her extra cheese ration."

Lemmons chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "I miss good chocolate. I can't get used to... Cad-berry's?"

"Oh, that's sacrilege," She laughed, tossing a slice of cucumber at him, which stuck to the breast pocket of his coveralls. "If you'd come a couple years ago when they were still making Dairy Milk you'd've thought you'd died and gone to heaven."

"I'll believe it when I see it," He grinned, plucking the slice off of his clothes. There was a pause before he spoke again. "One of the fellas says they're actually taking off later."

Frankie nodded, lifting a hand to cover her mouth as she spoke around her food. "Oh yeah? This gonna be your first proper go at it?"

"Yeah..." Lemmons admitted, looking momentarily nervous. "You?"

She snorted back a laugh. "Nah. I've been in the WAAF nearly four years - moved around a bit, but whether it's Attlebridge or Docking or Thorpe Abbotts, it's all the same gig. You stick with me when the planes start coming back down and you'll be fine."

The corner of his mouth tilted upwards in a smile. "You're gonna babysit me?"

Frankie grinned, standing up to reach across the table and ruffle his curls. "With a cute little face like yours, who could help it?" She teased, laughing as he batted her away.

"Get off, I'm serious," Lemmons chuckled, but the smile never faded from his expression.

Ken's buddy hadn't been wrong, per se, but his fabled mission had come not hours, but days later, with a hammering knock on the door to her hut, the women stirring from their sleep in a wave of disgruntled moans.

"What time is it?" Frankie whined as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, resisting the urge to burrow her head beneath the pillow and block out the relentless knocking outside.

"Four thirty," George groaned, frowning vindictively at her watch as she put it on, as if time itself had caused her personal grievance.

"They're flying today, get ready!" A young male voice bellowed from the other side of the door, clearly too shy to bare his face to a room of half-dressed, irritated women.

"Fuck me, I'm coming," She muttered, brushing her hair with one hand as she buttoned up the front of her coveralls with the other.

"Spot me! How's my lipstick?" George called, and Frankie leant across the bed that separated them to wipe a stray smudge of red away with her thumb.

"All good."

"Right," Her bunkmate huffed. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

"See you later," Frankie affirmed.

"I'll join you for drinks this time if all goes well!" George called over her shoulder as she scurried towards the door.

"I'll hold you to that!" She replied, smiling as she laced up her boots.

The planes left and returned in mere hours, but the in-between had felt never-ending as the ground crew waited in tense anticipation to see how many would return and in what state. Frankie had sent Egan away to the flight tower after his nervous hovering had started to get on her nerves, and she had since spent the last half-hour sitting in the grass beside the runway making daisy chains with a few of the local children as a way to pass the time.

"Frankie! They're comin' in!" She heard Lemmons yell from across the airstrip. Hurriedly sending the children back to their parents as the sound of plane engines grew steadily louder overhead, she scrambled to her feet, grass stains streaking the knees of her coveralls as she jogged over, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as the planes began to descend towards them.

"...10, 11, 12..." Frankie muttered, coming to the slow realisation that many of the men they'd sent away that morning had not returned. But that loss did not negate the importance of the work they had to do now. "Ok, let's go," She patted Lemmons on the shoulder, and they reached for the bikes they had discarded on the ground nearby, pedalling hard towards the landing strip.

From the second they arrived, she was surveying the damage, scanning the planes for the areas that would need the most attention. It was impossible to pick just one.

"There's a reason we go at night," She muttered, so softly no one else could hear over the din of shouts and dying engines. The mechanics weren't emergency staff, but she'd seen a fair few planes come in either on fire, half-collapsed or both over the years, enough to learn it was best to get in as soon as possible.

"Shit," Lemmons huffed beside her, staring up at a huge, jagged hole in the metal of one of the plane's wings.

"Send a couple of the boys back to the hut - tell them to bring a car back with all the sheet metal they can put in it. Oh - and get me a welder!" She called to him, and the young man began barking orders at the other mechanics, the crew erupting to life around the plane as they began to fix the mess that had returned.

"Frankie!" Egan's voice rang from down below as she climbed up onto the top of the plane, marking out the areas of the body that needed replacing. She looked down at him as he yelled again. "You need anything?"

"Nope, we're good here!" Frankie replied, holding up a thumbs-up in case the wind drowned out her voice. Looking down at the work to do below her, it was as if she could map out every fix in her mind, envision every action in order, play it out in her head until the beast was as good as new. She smiled to herself. "This is what I do."

[bradshawsbitch]

flightless bird | bradley bradshaw x reader

masterlist | ko-fi

hehe, happy valentine's day! surprise! it's a bradley-tastic holiday with lots of smut. this is part two to my fic songbird.

summary; after spending a week in a snowy cabin, rooster finds himself deployed over the holidays and well in to the new year. with the help of nat, maybe he can still make your valentines memorable?

warnings; 18+ explicit smut, afab!reader, she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, songbird universe, yearning, frantic, pussyjob, cockwarming, unprotected sex, creampies, dacryphilia, dom/sub dynamics, shower stuff, fingering, l-bombs, food mention, dd/lg(?), sleepy sex, pussy spanking, choking, hair pulling, cunnilingus, blowjob.

word count; 8.3K

tagging people who might like; @mak-32 @roosterforme @roleycoleyreccenter @theharddeck @lt-bradshaw @rhettabbotts @hangmanbrainrot @laracrofted @mothdruid @notroosterbradshaw

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The week spent in the snowy cabin with you before the holidays had been just what Bradley had needed. A week where he could curl up in front of the fire with you, stay in bed during cold mornings watching snow whirl outside the windows - nights spent hearing his name sighed from your lips as he loved your body.

It felt extra special seeing as Bradley had been called out on his first out of the country mission the day after Christmas. For once, he had requested to not get put on lengthier operations, and had asked to spend the holidays state-side. However, as it was, not all requests could be accommodated - and he knew that after the dagger squad was formed, many of their new found skills in the air were coveted. 

Which meant that his contact with you had been minimal. He managed to snag a video call for New Years, his eyes raking over your dolled up form as you blew him kisses, a tear rolling down your eyes as you smiled and said you missed and loved him. But other than that his superiors were quite strict about contacting home.

It was now the beginning of February, and Bradley was starting to lose it just a little. He would spend hours in the gym, enjoying the distractions they could provide him, letting out the steam that his mind plagued him with. It felt like every time he closed his eyes, the image of your blissed out form on top of his abs softly mewling his name played again and again. His gruff groan resounded in the small gym as he lifted the weights with more force than before, needing to shake the image from his head before he lost it. 

It felt weird, spending so much time in such a cramped space again. The body and mind quickly got accustomed to space and the luxuries of being on land - and his claustrophobic little bunk didn’t exactly give him peace of mind to… take care of his problems. Especially not when his bunk mate, Growler, most likely had freaking sleep apnea or something. Damn the man snored loud. So now, after six weeks of grueling night flights, paired with snoring bunkmates and the tantalizing thought of your voice, your face, your embrace and body - Bradley felt like he was on the brink of insanity. He needed to come home to you. He needed you. 

Sighing heavily, he trudged through the narrow corridors of the ship he was on, making his way to the small space reserved for showering. He’d spent the whole night in the cockpit, navigating as the stars twinkled happily back at him. Some constellations reminded him of you, in the way they would form a particular shape that would remind him of one of the scars or spots he’d loved during your time in the cabin.

Bradley knew you’d strangle him with your bare hands if he ever confessed that he thought of you when he was supposed to be focusing on navigating his jet. The thought made a small smile quirk on the corner of his lips. He could almost hear your scolding voice, reprimanding him and saying something along the lines of ‘keep your eyes on the road, Bradshaw! or… well, the clouds or whatever it is you watch!’ 

Even imagining your voice sent a stitch of longing through his chest. Seeing as this was not a ‘long stint’ as one admiral had expressed (Bradley had grumbled below his breath at that), he hadn’t heard your voice since New Years, and that was the longest Bradley had gone without hearing your sweet voice saying his name since he met you. It felt like torture, and he had been working since mid January to make it possible for him to deliver a surprise to you. 

Bradley was relieved that during the time that you’d been in a relationship, you and Phoenix had found a friend in one another - often spending nights gossiping and painting your nails or whatever girls did together when Nat was home. It made it easier for her to help him arrange this surprise for you.

Stepping under the spray of lukewarm water, Bradley groaned softly, letting his eyelids flutter shut as water ran across his face. He couldn’t wait to stand under the warm water at home with you. Sighing heavily, he finished up his shower quickly heading off to get some sleep. Soon, he would be putting his plan into action.

Natasha had been absolutely relentless all week. You had suggested that maybe the two of you could spend Valentine’s together, but she just shook her head, revealing that she had a date with a pretty girl she had met at a cute little coffee shop in downtown San Diego earlier this year. She had, however, spent the day before the fourteenth going to different lingerie shops with you - hinting at sets you could buy for when Rooster made it home. The notion just made you feel a sad, longing ache for your boyfriend. Shaking your head, you told her that maybe you’d get a set when the time for his homecoming was a bit closer. 

“C’mon, doll” Nat had taken to calling you many of the terms of endearment Bradley did when he wasn’t around, knowing you missed hearing them when he wasn’t home. “Maybe Roos will be able to sneak in a little video call during the day? I would hope his superiors aren’t completely heartless?” Natashas raised brow and tilted head had you furrowing your brows slightly. She was right. What if Bradley managed to get a video call slot? The thought immediately brought a smile to your face, and giddy excitement filled your every pore. 

“Nat! Wouldn’t that be amazing?” you didn’t want to get your hopes up, but if he did manage it, you sure as hell wanted to treat him with a mighty fine visual. You had honestly had such a hard time ever since Roos had left - your fingers and toys just couldn’t compare to him, and more often than not your tries would only end in frustrated tears and unsatisfied feelings. 

Phoenix smirked softly at you as you dragged her along now, looking at different bras and sets of various intricacies. Licking your lips you looked at a fairly simple set - Bradley was a simple man, and you knew that more than anything, he just wanted to see your body. You weren’t too comfortable wearing too many garters or complicated get-ups with ribbons twisted all around your body. In the end, you chose a simple red bra and panty set that looked good against your skin, cute little red hearts dotting it. 

The rest of the day was spent plotting with Nat, giggling and speculating as to what would happen on her date tomorrow, and if Bradley would be able to call you. Going home and going to bed that night, you felt warm and happy for the first time in a while, the set sitting ready for you to wear tomorrow - not knowing what time Bradley might be able to get a call in, you figured you’d just wear it for the duration of the day. 

As darkness fell, you sat by the kitchen table, a small pout on your lips. You knew you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up, but Nat had been so convincing in her ideas about Bradley calling you. Stomach growling, you just sighed softly - you didn’t really feel like cooking today, perhaps you’d just have a sandwich and go to bed. Just as that thought entered your head, your doorbell went off. Furrowing your brows, you went to open the door. A man stood outside the door, a large bag of food in his hands. 

“Delivery for you, ma’am,” he spoke, and you shook your head. “I think you have the wrong house, I haven’t ordered anything.” the man only smiled.

“Nope, got clear instructions from a Natasha Trace that this was the right house, and she said you might be a little confused,” that made you laugh softly, accepting the bags from yours and Bradley’s favorite restaurant. As the door closed again, you couldn’t help the tears that accumulated in your eyes - Nat was truly the best friend a girl could ask for. She knew you so well. 

Unpacking the bag, your eyes widened at the sheer amount of food. Both yours and Bradley’s favorite dishes, along with a bottle of wine, and chocolate covered strawberries. Furrowing your brow, you reached for your phone, about to text ‘Nix and ask her why on earth she had ordered for a whole army, when you heard keys being inserted to the door that you’d just locked.

“Natasha? Aren’t you supposed to be on your date? If this is you coming over to confess your undying love for me, I’m sorry but–” your tone had been teasing, a smirk playing on your lips as you made your way towards your front door to greet her - seeing as she was the only one with the spare key to yours and Bradley’s home. 

“Happy Valentine's Day, doll,” you stopped dead in your tracks, a gasp tumbling from your lips as your eyes widened in shock. 

“Bradley?” your voice quivered, along with your lower lip as you took in the form of your boyfriend, standing in your hallway, his khaki uniform stretching deliciously over his upper body. It was not that tight when he left, and the thought of your boyfriend’s body getting even more toned had your insides buzzing with need. 

“Hey, baby,” he smiled softly, it looked as if his whole body had relaxed as he heard his name rolling off of your lips. His arms had spread wide, inviting you into his embrace. You didn’t need any more convincing, and you surged forward jumping into his arms, soft happy noises leaving you without you being actively conscious you were making them - Bradley’s name falling from your lips over and over again as you kissed at his face. A low, rumbling groan resonated deep within Bradleys chest as he wrapped his strong arms around you, one hand cradling the back of your head as he squeezed you tighter.

“God, baby… I’ve missed you,” he groaned, burrowing his face into your neck and inhaling deeply. 

“How are you here right now, Roos?” your legs were wrapped around his waist now, and Bradley’s hands had settled underneath your thighs to hold you in his embrace. Your hands had found his face, cradling it as your eyes roamed happily over his beautiful face, taking in all of his features greedily. 

“I pulled some strings, contacted some people,” Bradley joked, smirking softly up at your elated face. 

“Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw…” you spoke jokingly, almost reprimanding in your tone, and to your surprise Bradley groaned deeply, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Don’t say that to me right now, doll,” he growled, surging forward to attach his lips to your neck. A breathy moan rolled past your lips as your fingers moved to tug at the short hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Bradley,” you spoke breathlessly as his lips left kisses and licks to your exposed throat “food, Nat—” Bradley broke away from your neck, smiling that lopsided smile you loved so much “I know baby, I had her help me make sure you were home,” blinking a couple of times in disbelief, laughter bubbling in your throat, and the way Bradley smiled at you like you hung the moon had your body heating up slightly. 

“Rooster,” it seemed as if you couldn’t get enough of saying his name, almost wanting to make sure he was real - his name carried such emotion as you uttered it, tears gathering in your lashes, threatening to fall as you took in the adoration in Bradley’s amber eyes.

Slowly, he released the hold he had on your thighs, gently letting your body slide down his own until your feet were planted on the floor again. His large hand moved to cradle your cheek, his thumb slowly soothing the tear stained skin.

“I missed you,” you whimpered, and Bradley nodded, furrowing his brows as he leaned down, his other hand swiftly moving to your neck before his lips connected with yours in a searing kiss. Bradley inhaled sharply, a soft moan slipping out as he moved his lips against yours, his tongue eagerly licking at your lips - loving the way you yielded to him, his tongue stroking languidly against yours.

Your hands, that were planted on his chest, fisted the material of his uniform in your fingers - tugging slightly as Bradley pulled whimpers and moans from you as his tongue caressed yours, as he pulled your bottom lip into his mouth, as his teeth gently nipped and tugged at it. 

“Fuck” he swore, voice raspy as one of his hands moved to grip tightly at your hip, the other reaching into your hair. A breathless gasp left you, knowing what was to come. Rooster pulled away from you slightly, smirking at your obvious reaction before his fingers slowly closed around your strands, enjoying the way your breathing instantly picked up in anticipation. 

“My pretty baby,” Rooster cooed as he finally tugged softly at your strands, and the desperate cry that spilled from your parted lips made a drawn out groan rumble deep within his chest. “Bradley,” you whimpered, eyes filled with desperation as you looked up at him - you needed him, needed to feel his skin against yours, needed him to hold you, to make you feel safe. 

“I know, baby,” he murmured softly, tilting your head back to let his lips attach themselves to the sensitive skin of your throat. “I know,” he mumbled again as you gasped at the sensation. “I haven’t been–” you struggled to get the words out, your whole body felt like it was on fire at your boyfriend's touch “You–” licking your lips, you tried to gather your scrambled thoughts.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” Bradley murmured, letting his thumb stroke along your jawline, up to your cheek and then settling on your chin, his large hand holding it gently, tilting your face up to gaze into your starry eyes. “What’re you trying to tell me, sweet baby?” his voice was like honey, dripping over your senses and making your mind hazy. 

“I– they– my,” you whimpered, frustration filling you and tears rolling down your cheeks as you struggled to find the words to express how much you needed him “Aw, baby” Bradley cooed as his large form towered yours “Are you trying to tell me your small fingers haven’t been enough, hm?” your eyes widened at his words, nodding eagerly, a soft whine leaving your throat as you pawed at his chest, needing to get this stupid uniform off of him. 

A soft chuckle made his chest move slightly, making you feel all the more how much more defined his pecs were. Your fingers moved to work at his buttons, and he smiled fondly down at you as you fumbled a little in your eagerness - finally managing to get it undone enough to tear it over his head, exposing his broad shoulders and large, muscular arms to you. Before you had a chance to let your hands roam over his warm skin, Bradley had once again scooped you up into his arms, walking towards your shared bedroom.

“As much as I would love to ravish you where we’re standing, I plan on taking my sweet time with you baby - I’ve missed you too much,” he grunted, kicking the door open more before entering with you cradled in his arms. That promise made a small smile appear on your lips, and you hummed in pleasure at the thought of being able to feel your boyfriend's warm body again.

The soft light from the bedside lamp had Bradley’s skin looking all the more warm and tan, the shadows accentuating the dips of his collarbones and his defined muscles. He had placed you gently in the middle of the bed, making quick work of his pants and undershirt, leaving him in his black boxers. Seeing his almost naked body had your breath hitching in your throat, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth as your eyes roamed over his defined abs. 

“Like what you see, baby girl?” Bradley smirked, once again gently grabbing hold of your chin, his thumb resting against your lower lip. You nodded, eyes locked with his as the motion made his thumb drag your bottom lip down slightly.

He slowly swiped it back and forth across your plump skin, and you opened your mouth eagerly, brows coming together slightly as his hungry eyes took in your obedience. Slipping his thumb between your parted lips, it softly moved to press down against your tongue, and your eyes fluttered closed in relief as your lips closed around the digit, suckling softly at it, small mewls leaving you sporadically. 

“Fuck, baby - I’ve missed your pretty little sounds so much…” Bradley groaned, letting his body cover yours, grinding his hips into your still clothed thigh, and the feeling of his rock hard cock against you had your eyes flying open and a muffled whimper coming out around Bradley’s thumb. 

 Releasing Bradley’s thumb, he leaned down, nudging your jawline with his nose before placing a kiss below it - alternating between licking and sucking marks into your skin. His hands trailed down over your collarbones, a soft groan leaving him as his large hands covered your breasts.

You had worn a white top, cut so that your decolletage was visible, your new bra pushing your tits together to create a nice visual of the swell of your breasts. Bradley moaned at the feeling of your soft flesh once again in his palms, kneading and massaging them carefully, letting his thumb stroke over your hardening nipples. 

“Bradley, feels so good–” you moaned softly, letting your fingers tangle into his slightly curled strands, scratching your nails lightly against his scalp. He hummed softly, not wanting to leave the comfort your skin provided him.

Kissing down your chest, he soon reached your breast, his mouth tonguing at your hardened nipple over the white fabric, wetting it and sucking at it - drawing soft whimpers from your lips as your thighs clenched together. His other hand had slipped under your top, letting his fingers pinch slowly at your nipple over your bra. 

As he drew back to take in his work, he raised his brows as the dampened white material gave way for red to shine through. “Baby… what do we have here?” you smiled bashfully, heat filling your body as Bradley removed your top, leaving you in the bra that you and Nat had picked out the day prior. 

“Did Nat tell you I’d come home?” he seemed a little sad at that prospect and you shook your head, “She made me buy one because she said you might be able to video call me, and that it would be a nice treat for you,” your voice was small, your fingers now tracing over his exposed collarbones, over his shoulder and down his flexed bicep. 

“Thank fucking god for Natasha fuckin’ Trace,” Bradley groaned, his forehead falling to rest in between your breasts as he kissed and laved his tongue all over your skin, one hand running down the length of your abdomen to undo your jeans. As his large hand splayed on your lower abdomen, he inhaled deeply, reigning himself in slightly to place a soft kiss on your lips.

“Hi, baby,” he spoke softly, making you smile softly as he gazed down at you “Hi,” you whispered back, stroking his cheek lovingly. “Would you stand up for me, love?” he continued, moving so that you could stand. As you shimmied out of your tight jeans, Bradley sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread, showing off his muscular thighs. 

As you stood in front of him, in only the red set, he smiled softly at you. “Would you give me a twirl, doll?” he never wanted to take his eyes off of you, you were a vision in red, and the tiny hearts that scattered across the fabric honestly drove him a little insane in their cute sensuality. 

“Look so beautiful… I’ve missed you so much,” Rooster confessed as you stepped in between his legs, his hands immediately coming to rest against your hips, slowly moving further back until he was kneading your ass cheeks, his face scattering kisses across your abdomen. Letting your head fall back, you gripped tightly at his hair, every move of Bradley’s making your knees grow weaker and weaker “Roos,” you moaned, about to warn him - but he already seemed aware, and gently guided you to sit on his lap. 

“My pretty, pretty girl,” Bradley cooed, holding you close to his body, finally feeling your skin against his own. Sitting on his lap, you wriggled closer to him, nuzzling your face into his neck, letting your lips kiss and suck at the junction, moving further down to his muscular shoulder where you nibbled and suckled softly. Bradley moaned softly at the sensation, hands gripping your hips as you started to grind them down against his cock. 

“Bradley,” you whined against his skin, his cock dragging deliciously against your clit, the sheer fabric of your panties only heightening to sensation. “I know, doll, I know,” he rasped, arms wound around your midsection as he rutted against your wet core, one hand splayed on your lower back to press you harder into his clothed cock. 

“I need you,” you whined softly, followed by a harsh whimper, teeth biting down on his skin to keep you in the moment, to not slip away entirely. 

“How do you need me, baby?” Rooster spoke gruffly, gripping your jaw firmly to make you look at him, the sting of your bite still felt in his shoulder. At his rough movement, your eyes rolled back slightly, craving this type of touch so badly. Breathing labored, you couldn’t get the words out until his fingers wrapped around your throat.

“Answer.” he commanded, and a soft mewl left your mouth before you began to beg “I need you in my mouth, please - please, want your cock in my mouth so bad, Roos,” Bradley hummed softly before releasing his hold on your throat, letting the back of his hand stroke along the side of your neck “Good girl,” he whispered, placing a kiss to your jaw. 

“Get on your knees then, sweet girl” he murmured, stroking your cheek before spreading his legs further, so you could sink to your knees between them. Shuffling, he removed his boxers and tossed them aside before turning his attention to you. You looked like a dream, sitting back on your heels, waiting for him, putting your trust entirely in his hands as you gazed up at him with your hands folded in your lap. 

“God, you’re such a good girl,” he praised, letting his palm cradle your cheek, loving the small smile that appeared on your face as you nuzzled into his palm. “What did I do to deserve you, huh?” he murmured mostly to himself, his other hand reaching down to stroke his cock languidly. He looked on as you blinked slowly, biting your lip as your eyes followed his every movement. 

“Please?” you breathed out, glancing up at him. “Come, baby,” he motioned you closer, and without prompting you eagerly let your tongue run along the underside of his dick, moaning at the feeling of his soft skin. You took in every vein and ridge, kissing and licking along his length over and over again, relishing in hearing Bradley’s every soft moan and grunt. Licking at the tip, you felt yourself moan softly at the taste of his precum, letting your tongue swirl around the tip, your lips only ever so slightly wrapping around the very edge of him every now and then. 

One hand held the base of his cock, squeezing slightly as the other rested against his thigh. Finally, you took him into your mouth, eyes fluttering closed as you felt his heavy cock rest against your tongue. Arousal flooded your entire body, feeling yourself get more wet by the sounds Bradley was making as you took him further into your mouth.

Soft whimpers were muffled by his cock, and you felt so deliciously dizzy at the feel of him stuffed deep into your throat. Your nose was almost down to his abdomen, his pubic hair tickling your nose as you inhaled his heady scent, another muffled moan leaving you as you felt him twitch against your tongue. Hollowing your cheeks, you managed to suck on him as you let up a little. 

Bradley had been leaning back on his hands, his head tilted back at the sensation of you taking his cock so well into your mouth. Small gasps and moans leaving his parted lips as he felt your tongue swirl and suck at him.

You slowly dragged your tongue along the underside of his cock as you pulled away, licking at his tip before you inhaled deeply, one hand pumping his hard dick in the absence of your mouth. Looking up at him, you whimpered at the sight. Bradley’s broad chest was heaving slightly, his abs slightly tensed as he sat leaned back, fiery brown eyes gazing down at you - a thin sheen of sweat covering his upper body. 

Breaking eye contact, you had to feel him heavy on your tongue again, and you moaned as he entered your mouth, letting it rest heavy in your mouth. Bradley’s large hand came to rest at the back of your head, looking down at you with a soft smile playing on his lips as he let you take what you needed from him.

His palm slowly stroked over your hair, and the feeling of your muffled whimper had his cock stirring against your tongue. With his hand on the back of your head, he gently rolled his hips, fucking into your eager mouth, cursing softly at the sounds you made as he slowly sank deeper into your throat.

“Look so pretty warming my cock baby, doing so well,” he murmured as his hands tangled into your strands. He knew what it would do to you if he tugged ever so slightly, but he had a feeling you wanted it as much as he did. How much you needed it. Your soft moan and the way your body shivered and twitched slightly let him know he was right. 

Feeling Bradley slowly fuck his cock into your throat, you let your eyes flutter shut, eyes rolling back slightly at the feeling of his hand resting heavy on your head, letting saliva slip from the sides of your mouth down onto Bradley’s abdomen. Swallowing involuntarily around your boyfriend’s cock, you were rewarded with a throaty moan and the softest of pushes against the back of your head, paired with Bradley’s hips rolling ever so slightly, stuffing your mouth so full of him.

Tears rolled down your cheeks from feeling him so deep in your throat, and the lack of oxygen, but you loved it - loved how hard and silky he felt in your wet mouth, loved the way your lips were stretched to accommodate his sheer size.  

“Fuck, baby,” Rooster growled, tugging at your hair to make you ease up. As much as he loved having your lips wrapped around his cock, he needed to be inside you - had waited so long to feel you and hear you fall apart on his cock for him. You took a shuddering breath as Bradley easily maneuvered your body so that it was splayed out for him on the bed.

He had you on your stomach, face pressed into the pillows as he kneaded at your ass cheeks again, “Such a fucking lovely ass,” Bradley groaned, gripping the globes of your ass hard, separating them and letting spit drip from his lips down to your holes, making you moan loudly at the sudden sensation. 

His hands gripped your hips, pulling them back slightly so that you were rested on your knees and with your face still pressed into the mattress. “Mm, and this pretty fucking cunt,” he continued, letting his fingers slide between your soaked lips, gathering up your slick in his hand, loving the needy sounds you were making. 

“Who’s pretty little pussy is this huh?” Rooster teased, letting his finger softly grace your clit, your moans only getting louder as you gripped the sheets. A harsh slap made a strangled cry leave your lips, eyes flying open in surprise at the fact that Bradley had slapped your puffy cunt with his fingers. 

“Yours!” you cried out with a sob, squirming against the sensation of Bradley circling your sensitive clit again. Bradley hummed deep in his throat as he settled behind you, his breath hitting your clothed cunt before he harshly pulled them down to your thighs, not wasting any time before his mouth was all over your cunt, his skilled tongue laving over your clit, fucking into you, swirling around your wetness like a man starved. 

Your cries of pleasure only seemed to make him more eager, and you soon found yourself grinding your hips back against his mouth as he gripped your ass in his hands, letting his thumb rest over your sensitive hole. That, along with the quick flicks of his tongue against your clit had you tumbling over the edge, crying his name over and over again. 

Bradley wasted no time in flipping you over, slotting himself between your thighs, leaning down to kiss your swollen lips, letting you taste yourself on his lips, the scent of you lingering on his mustache. His cock, now aching from how hard it was, was leaking precum onto your swollen clit, and the sensation of his hard, silky cock so close to where you needed him had you mewling softly. 

“You like that, baby?” you could only nod feverishly “Like feeling my cock against that wet cunt of yours?” you nodded again, whining slightly as he let his cock drag between your folds and up to your clit again. “Please!” you whined, canting your hips towards him, wanting him to slip into your warm heat. 

“Please what?” Rooster murmured into your ear, repeating the action of letting his cock grind and slip just out of reach of your weeping hole, letting the tip tease at the entrance when he drew a particularly loud moan from you. 

“Please, please– fuck me, oh god, fuck me,” you chanted, squirming underneath him, breath coming in short spurts, your whole body feeling like it was on fire. “I need you so bad, fuck, I need you, need you to fuck me, please, please” you sobbed, wanting him to understand that you needed him to fill you, needed to be one with him again. Bradley loved when you begged for him, it didn’t happen too often, as he would feel too bad to tease you for too long, but right now he couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful.

The red tip of his cock slowly circled your clit, and your panting increased, more whines and mewls falling from your lips as tears once again burned in the corners of your eyes “Please! Please!” your words were turning into cries, soft and drawn out, chest heaving slightly. 

“What do you want, baby?” Bradley smirked, letting his tip sink slightly into your needy hole before withdrawing again, making you sob out right. “I need your cock, I need you to fuck me– please! Please! Please!” 

At your words, Bradley let his cock sink deep into your cunt, the sensation so overwhelming he almost spurted his cum instantaneously into your core. You were moaning loudly, the sound almost echoing in the room as you babbled “thank you, oh god - feels so good, fuck, wanted to feel so full, missed you,” Bradley groaned, rutting into you slowly, relishing in your cries as his tip massaged at that sensitive spot within you. “Missed you too, pretty baby, feel so damn good around my cock”

Pulling down the cup of your bra, as he took one of your nipples into his mouth, Bradley started to thrust hard into you, needing his release so bad after being apart from you for so long. His other hand snuck down between your bodies, drawing tight circles on your clit. As you fell apart on him, he groaned deep in his throat, spilling all of himself into you. 

“Fuck,” his voice was strangled as he collapsed on top of your body, chest heaving as he felt his cock pump the last of his seed into you, your soft moans gracing his ear as he kissed at your neck. 

“You okay, baby?” he murmured, rising up on his elbows to look at you. Tears were streaming down your face, but a smile was on your lips as you sniffled “I missed you so much, Roos,” your voice was small and vulnerable, and Bradley’s heart clenched. “I know, I’m so sorry, baby, I’m sorry,” he let his arms wrap tight around you, cradling you in his arms as he laid down on his back, taking you with him to rest on his chest. 

“I love you,” he continued, pressing kisses all over your face as more tears fell from your eyes. You nuzzled your face into his chest, kissing softly over his heart “I love you too, Bradley. I’m so happy you came home to me,” 

He smiled down at you, his hand drawing soft circles on your back. “You have no idea how happy I am to have you in my arms again,” he murmured lovingly, letting his nose rub softly against yours.

“Want to take a shower with me, baby? I’m Navy gross,” Rooster joked, kissing your lips softly. You nodded happily, placing soft kisses against his jawline before moving to stand up. Bradley kept close to you as you padded into the bathroom, always having a hand lingering on your skin, or his arms wrapped around you as you waited for the shower to turn warm, his lips attached to your shoulder and neck, pulling soft sighs of content from you. 

Warm water engulfed the two of you, and Bradley sighed deeply as he felt his muscles relax gradually under the steam, low moans rumbling in his chest. “Are you hurt?” he looked down at your concerned face, and he smiled reassuringly “No, sweets, not hurt - just been crammed into the cockpit a lot,” he mumbled against your lips, letting his lips linger against yours, letting you take the lead this time.

Your arms wound around his neck, stretching your body out against his. Your tongue gently prodded at the seam of his lips, and he let you softly caress your tongue against his. At one point, the tip of his tongue fell between your plump lips, and you were quick enough to give it a soft suckle before letting it go - that drew a low moan from him, cock stirring again at the sensation.

“God, I’ve missed my beautiful girl,” he sighed softly as you broke away, still leaning your naked, wet body onto his as your fingers played with the wet hair at the nape of his neck. His hands caressed your sides, gently grasping at your tits every now and then, earning soft mewls from you. You kissed him lazily, feeling your body react to his touch so easily - he’d made you cum less than five minutes ago, and you were already feeling your core slick with arousal again.

“Please, baby,” Bradley pleaded against your mouth “Can I make you cum again, pretty girl?” nodding, you kissed him again, as he pressed your back into the cold tiles of the wall. His hand left it’s perch at your breast, caressing one of your thighs softly before hitching it over his hip, letting his thigh help support you as he used his other hand to cup your sex. 

“Wet for me again, baby?” he cooed, smiling softly as he planted an open mouthed kiss against your mouth “Yes, all for you,” you sighed, feeling your body relax as he let his index rub slowly against your sensitive cunt.

“Have you missed my fingers, doll?” he hummed, letting one of his large fingers sink into you “Yes,” you mewled, letting your head tilt back against the tiles “Haven’t been able to get myself off since you left, Roos,” you pouted “couldn’t work myself with my fingers like you can,” you whispered, and Bradley groaned “Baby,” he moaned “you haven’t cum since I left you?” you shook your head, still pouting as that reality settled in. 

“My poor baby,” he murmured, kissing at your neck, letting his finger sink in and out of you, your soft moans like music to his ears. “I’m home now, baby - I’ll take such good care of you, okay?” he reassured you, kissing your forehead, looking into your eyes, that held so much love and trust for him. You nodded mutely, and he knew you were thankful he was home, not only for him to take care of you like this. 

“Feels so good when you touch me, Bradley” you moaned breathlessly as he added a second finger, the heel of his palm giving your clit just enough stimulation so it wasn’t overwhelming. “I always want to touch you, sweet girl,” Rooster replied, placing another sweet kiss to your swollen lips. As his pace picked up, you wound your fingers around his neck again, keeping his forehead pressed tight against yours as you felt that familiar tightness in your stomach. 

Needy whines and whimpers fell from your lips as your breath stuttered and you tensed under Bradleys fingers “Shh, baby - it’s okay, let go for me, I’m here - I’ve got you. Give it to me, pretty baby,” he whispered against your lips, and that’s all it took for you to reach that high that had been building and building until it now finally snapped. 

A long, drawn out, relaxed moan echoed over the sound of rushing water as you came on Bradley’s fingers, who were still pumping them slowly through your orgasm. “God, you’re so beautiful when you cum for me baby,” Rooster smiled, pecking your lips. You smiled, a little dazed from the high he just gave you. Bradley only smiled, slowly pulling you under the stream of water again, washing your body and hair with the products he knew you liked. 

He made quick work of washing himself before he stepped out of the shower, retrieving two towels, quickly patting himself off and slinging the towel around his hips, before he gently wrapped the fluffy towel around your form as you exited the shower after him. He gingerly dried you off, taking his time to peck your lips every so often. 

“C’mon, honey - should we heat up some food?” 

As night fell, you found yourself perched in Bradley’s lap, talking softly about your time spent apart, eating the food Natasha had made sure you got, slowly sipping wine and sharing soft kisses. 

“I love you,” Bradley mumbled for the umpteenth time, and still, your heart fluttered helplessly in your chest “I love you, too,” you smiled, placing a lingering kiss on his lips. Your hand was resting on his neck, sporadically stroking the hair there, alternating between small tugs and soft caresses. Reaching for a strawberry, Bradley slowly held it up against your lips, a small smile on his face that told you to indulge him.

He traced the strawberry slowly across your lips, pushing it between them, letting you nip the top off, before he brought the rest to his own mouth, biting off the rest. Reaching up, his lips captured yours in a kiss after he swallowed, tasting the sweet juice that lingered there. 

The two of you sat cuddled in each others embrace for a long while, not wanting to succumb to the exhaustion that trickled into your minds - wanting to stay with each other. But ultimately, after your fifth yawn, Bradley slowly steered you towards the bedroom. 

Climbing into bed, you whined at the loss off contact as Bradley rid himself of the robe he’d put on earlier, he smiled as he too climbed under the covers, turning the lights off before he quickly made his way over to you, letting his arms drape over your form. 

“Please, don’t leave me,” you murmured sleepily as you snuggled into his embrace, and Bradley felt his heart lurch “No, I’m home now, sweetheart - I’m not leaving,” he kissed the top of your head softly, settling into the embrace and letting himself drift off to sleep. 

It was one of those nights where neither of you got much rest, waking every so often to share soft sleepy kisses and whispered words of love. Sometimes you’d wake and find you’d rolled over to your side of the bed, and you’d have to seek out Bradley’s arms again to settle down, and likewise Bradley would find himself waking up every once in a while a little cold, seeing you sprawled out of his arms. 

As moonlight filtered in through the windows, Bradley woke up once again, now spooning you. He blinked slowly, inhaling the scent of your hair before gingerly brushing it to the side to place soft kisses along the column of your neck. Your soft noise of pleasure told him you were in between sleep and consciousness too, and he gently sucked at the warm skin beneath his lips. Your hips instinctively canted backwards, your ass pressing into Bradley’s crotch, where his cock was already half hard from feeling your soft forms under his hands. 

“Bradley,” your sleep ridden, needy whine had him groaning with pleasure “Yeah, baby?” his sleepy rasp shot straight to your core, and you licked your lips as his hand sneaked up to squeeze your tit. “Need you,” you confessed breathlessly, once again grinding your hips into his erection. 

“Fuck…” his fingers pinched at your hardening nipple, drawing soft mewls from you as you ground your soaking cunt into him. Bradley’s lips ghosted over the bare skin of your shoulder as his fingers reached down to your pussy, spreading her open with his fingers to gather the slick there with his middle finger, circling your clit slowly as you moaned for him. 

As a finger sunk into your wet core, you whined in frustration, brows furrowed and a pout forming on your lips “What’s wrong, pretty baby?” Rooster murmured against your skin “You okay?” you whimpered, needing something else, needing more. You squirmed a little as his fingers stilled “Do you want me to stop?” he kissed at your shoulder. 

“No,” you felt petulant, almost, but in your sleepy state it was hard to pinpoint what it was. “Okay, baby” Bradley mumbled patiently, letting his fingers continue dragging against your slick walls, his thumb lazily circling your clit as you gathered your thoughts. “So pretty for me like this,” he spoke softly against your ear, catching your lobe in between his teeth, licking gently - making you whine again. “My pretty, pretty baby,” he breathed out, his fingers working in and out of your weeping cunt. 

“Daddy,” you whined hesitantly, reaching your hand up to his hair, rocking yourself against his fingers. A drawn out moan flowed from Bradley’s parted lips, his body relaxing even more against yours, burrowing his face into your neck as he grunted, pressing his cock harder into your backside. His chest felt like it was exploding, his feelings catching in his throat, overwhelming him. 

“Yes, daddy’s here, pretty baby, daddy’s got you,” Bradley’s voice was raw, his grip on you tighter as his fingers sank into you again. A soft sob tore from your throat as you cried out for him again “Daddy!” tears flowed freely now, and you were desperate to turn around, to see him. “I’m here, baby, I’m here,” Bradley cooed “Daddy’ll take such good care of you,” you nodded, a soft noise of agreement leaving your throat. 

Your mind felt fuzzy as you relaxed in his strong arms, mewling as he cradled you, one hand softly massaging your breast, and the other slowly fucking into your pussy. His hand slowly retracted from it’s spot between your legs, before he pulled you up with him, settling you between his spread legs as his back rested against the headboard, and your back against his chest. Large hands graced your inner thighs, spreading them and splaying them over his own, kneading lovingly as your head fell back against his shoulder. 

His fingers sank into your core again, his other hand tweaking your nipples and groping at your breasts. “Daddy,” you whimpered softly, squirming in his embrace “Hmm?” he tilted your head up towards his face, his fingers resting against your jaw as you moaned softly into him. He captured your soft lips in a slow kiss, swallowing all of your soft noises. 

“Tell me what you need, sweet girl,” he whispered against your lips, his fingers still leisurely pumping in and out of you. 

“Need you,” you licked your lips, nudging his nose with yours, needing to be so much closer to him. “You have me,” he smiled, placing another kiss to your parted lips. “Need you to fill me again, daddy,” you whimpered, clenching around his fingers at the thought. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, letting his fingers slip out of your slick heat, your legs still spread over his own. He held them up against your lips, and you eagerly sucked at his two fingers, swirling your tongue around them. 

“Good girl.” Rooster praised, low in his throat, and he relished in the soft moan it pulled from your lips. Gently, he pulled you off of his chest, lifting you so you were facing him instead, guiding your legs apart with his own so that you were straddling him. 

“You want daddy’s cock, is that it?” you nodded eagerly, licking your lips. “Want daddy to fill you up so good you forget your own name?” you closed your eyes and whimpered at the thought “Yes, daddy, please” you sounded so sweet for him, and he groaned softly. Taking his hard cock in his hand, he pumped himself slowly before helping you position yourself over him.

“Go on, sweets, take it,” he encouraged you as he lined his cock up with your entrance. Your smaller hands settled on his broad shoulders, and slowly you sank down on his length, moaning at the stretching sensation. 

As he bottomed out, you felt so stretched out, so filled to the brim by Bradley that you could barely think - your heart was pounding in your ears, breathing a little shallow as you took in the sensation of Bradley’s cock so deep in you, his pubic mound rubbing against your clit as you rutted your hips ever so slightly. The shooting pleasure made you shudder, and a small cry of ‘daddy’ left your lips again. You had slipped so quick, and it had been so long, you couldn’t quite grasp what to do to scratch the itch that you needed.

“C’mere, sweet girl, daddy’ll do the work,” Bradley rumbled, sitting up slightly, letting his arms circle your waist, hand splayed on your ribs as he slowly fucked into you. “That feel good, baby?” he murmured and you nodded “Uh-huh” biting your lip and squeezing at his shoulders. 

“My little baby feeling so good stuffed full of daddy?” he was smiling, and it felt so good to see him smile at you, you were doing good. You nodded again, mewling softly and sighing in pleasure every time he bottomed out in you. 

“Missed you, daddy,” you mumbled, letting your arms wind around his neck, his smile and his voice helping you out, your hips now moving in time with his thrusts. “Fuck, I missed all of you, fucking… beautiful girl, I love you,” Bradley moaned against your skin, overwhelmed by the emotion, overwhelmed that you gave your trust and love to him so quick, so freely after he’d been gone for so long.

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he confessed softly, moaning as you pulled his face closer to your chest, letting him lick at your nipples as you rode him. “S’okay, daddy - I’m close too,” you murmured, tugging at his hair, the friction of his body against yours enough to have a slow heat flowing through you. 

“I love you, daddy,” you moaned as Bradley rutted into you, his cock twitching as your core clenched around him “Fuck,” his voice sounded strangled as his hips stuttered, emptying himself into you for the second time that night. At the feeling of his hot seed coating your insides, feeling his cock so deep in your cunt, you came with a soft cry as Bradley held you in a tight embrace. 

As you caught your breath, Bradley managed to scoot down so that he was lying, with you curled on top of him, fingers tracing sleepy patterns on his chest. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Bradley,” you sighed softly, kissing his sternum, and Bradley chuckled softly, humming slightly as he traced your spine with his fingers. “Should probably let you sleep,” he murmured and you nodded, already drifting off a little. “C’mon, should we clean you up?” he suggested but you shook your head. Morning would be here in only a little while. “Stay with me.” you said sleepily. “I am here, baby,” 

“Sleep.” you mumbled “In me.” you pressed another kiss to his chest, laying your head down, letting your breathing even out. Bradley chuckled again, letting his hands rest on your back as he too closed his eyes.

“Whatever my pretty baby wants.”

[daughter-of-melpomene]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆… 𝐌𝐘 𝐌*𝐀*𝐒*𝐇 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐒𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐀 𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐒

❝ When Sophia had first signed up to be part of the USO, one of the many pretty girls singing and dancing on tiny stages to give the brave boys fighting in Korea some much-needed cheering up, she couldn't have imagined wanting to do anything else. After all, she'd been trying to get in as a chorus girl on Broadway for years, intent on pursuing her childhood dreams of dancing and singing under the blinding lights of the Great White Way, but as a poor kid from Washington Heights who was more often than not deemed too “exotic” for your average Broadway ensemble, she figured working in the USO would be the closest she could get. Besides, volunteering for her own kind of service overseas was also a perfect excuse to escape the recent breaking-off of her engagement and the whispers of her social circle surrounding her and her ex-fiancé, so she really couldn’t have imagined a better opportunity to have presented itself at that particular time.

But when, only a few months into Sophia’s USO tenure, the Army sends out a call for more nurses for their M*A*S*H units, she decides to do some good that doesn't involve singing the same old tired standards, putting the hours she'd spent watching her tía work as a nurse to good use by volunteering to become one herself. Granted, she doesn’t have one lick of actual practical experience beyond occasionally helping her tía with a home birth in tiny Washington Heights apartments, but Sophia likes to think that the same good memory that has allowed her to remember hundreds of song lyrics and dance steps has also allowed her to retain proper first aid techniques and which surgical instruments are the correct ones to hand to the surgeons when they ask for them. And either way, the Army is low on nurses and surprisingly willing to overlook a lack of an actual degree to get them - and so, after only a few months as a USO girl, newly minted Lieutenant Sophia Ramos breezes into the M*A*S*H encampment serving as her new home armed with her trademark collection of brightly-coloured dresses, red lipstick, and charming wit combined with a sharp tongue, feeling prepared to take on any challenge that this new profession might throw her way.

But nothing in the world could prepare her for what she experiences when she's assigned to the 4077th - two chaotic doctors who love nothing more than getting a rise out of their stuck-up bunkmate (whom Sophia befriends almost immediately), a bumbling commanding officer who usually leaves his psychic clerk to run the camp, a corpsman whose taste in dresses is almost as good as hers... and a sweet chaplain with cute glasses and a sweet smile, who brightens up Sophia's world in ways she'd never imagined could be done. Father Mulcahy is gentle, compassionate, and the perfect dose of calm to Sophia’s usual bright tornado, and despite the way Sophia has settled into the 4077th since arriving, becoming liked by everyone (except for one Frank Burns, but really, who cared what he thought) and even striking up an unlikely friendship with the camp’s strict-minded head nurse, all it ever takes is one late-night conversation or shy smile from the chaplain to unsettle her in a way she isn’t entirely sure she doesn’t like.

The Father - or Francis, as he eventually insists Sophia call him - is Sophia’s perfect man in so many ways: understanding, attentive, and unlike so many men she has met, sharing a disinterest in the kind of intimacy Sophia has never been willing to give. Yet due to their respective positions and the vows he made years ago, actually confessing how she feels to him feels all but impossible, especially when Sophia is convinced that the God she has also been raised to believe in will ever forgive her for the love she feels for a man He has already claimed.

Little does she know, Francis feels the exact same way about her, and has been having similar worries about what the Holy Father might think about these feelings. But eventually, attractions are confessed and the two enter into a secret, deeply loving and caring relationship… and eventually, they both have to wonder whether the two of them meeting and falling in love with each other, two stars passing in orbit at exactly the right time, was not part of God’s divine plan after all. ❞

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @auxiliarydetective, @foxesandmagic,

@artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs, @endless-oc-creations, @stanshollaand,

@ginnystilinski-reblogs, @luucypevensie, @ginger-grimm, @oneirataxia-girl,

@arrthurpendragon, @fakedatings, @gabbysdawsons, @dancingsunflowers-ocs,

@eddysocs, @lucys-chen, @manyfandomocs, @ocappreciationtag.

[bitchymanlet]

Safety Net

Chapter 1: The Plan

🔞MINORS DO NOT INTERACT🔞

Pairing: Levi x Fem!OC; Sub!Levi x Domme!OC

Tags/Content Warnings: canon compliant; problematic; pregnancy; baby trapping; porn with plot; explicit sex; angst; obsession; jealousy; age gap (both are adults); losing virginity; secret relationship; power imbalance; superior and subordinate romance; D/s dynamic; BDSM (FYI, these tags cover the overall story. No sex or kink in this chapter.)

Word Count: 2,491

Summary: Ambitious Scout Emmy Bohn, member of the elite Captain Levi's Special Operations Squad, finally brings her dream to fruition by means of deceiving the one who she holds most dear, her own Captain. However, it's not all smooth sailing from there. She must grapple with the possibility that the life of peace she's meticulously crafted in her mind over the years—the control that she so desperately craves—may always be a mere fantasy.

A/N: This is my first fanfic I've ever published. Hope you enjoy.

Levi shuffled into the Commander’s office with a despondent look etched onto his stony-face. He kept some distance between himself and Erwin’s desk, yet far enough away from the door to prevent anyone outside from eavesdropping.

“Levi.” Erwin perked up, giving the Captain his full attention.

Levi rips off the bandaid. “I’m in deep shit, Erwin... Emmy’s pregnant,” he paused, putting his hands on his hips and sighing, “and it’s mine.”

Erwin eyeballed Levi, waiting for an elaboration. “Care to explain?”

“It’s been so long since you got laid that you forgot how pregnancy works? We had sex.”

Erwin shut his eyes and released a long, weary sigh. “You’re not making my job any easier, Levi.”

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” Levi deadpanned.

Erwin stared at nothing as he put on his signature thinking face.

Levi spoke up, “Nobody knows. Except for Dr. Sieger at the infirmary. Emmy just found out today and came straight to me with the news. So…” Levi shrugged, crossing his arms. “Any ideas?”

Erwin thought about it. If the doctor had confirmed it, then there’s little chance that she’s lying about her pregnancy. Nor would it be feasible to assume the doctor would tell anyone, that’s a small relief to Erwin at least, since Dr. Sieger is under oath to keep patients’ medical confidentiality.

“There’s no certainty that the child is yours.”

Levi scowled. “Are you really suggesting that Emmy, the one without so much as a speck of dirt on her record, is actually a slut?”

“You cannot be certain that there is no possibility for her to have gotten pregnant from someone else.”

Levi’s scowl faltered slightly. He had only slept with Emmy once, and in that single time he had worn a condom. Shit happens, a broken condom isn’t unheard of. Sure, there was a possibility that Emmy could’ve seen someone else around that time… He scoffed at such a bullshit notion. She was a virgin right up until they had done the deed. But that’s none of Erwin’s business.

“You know Emmy’s reputation. And you know damn well how easily word gets around. Petra is Emmy’s bunkmate, she’s got the bottom bunk and she’s a light sleeper. If Emmy snuck off to go fuck somebody, Petra would’ve found out, and she couldn’t keep it secret–that girl wears her heart on her sleeve.” Levi glanced off to the side. “There’s no doubt about it… it’s mine.”

Erwin stared at Levi. “By your logic, Petra would know about Emmy sneaking off to see you. She could be a witness.”

“Petra doesn’t know because Emmy didn’t sneak off. I gave Emmy a late night assignment… As far as Petra knows, Emmy was busy following orders,” Levi muttered.

Erwin folded his hands together over his desk. “This was no accident, I see. This was premeditated.” He nodded, gazing at his hands before looking at Levi. “You realize that fraternization is prohibited? This is grounds for dishonorable discharge.”

“I’m well aware,” Levi answered dryly. “What’s the point in telling me this? You’re gonna give us the boot? Okay, thanks for dragging me out of that shithole, my six years as a Scout have been a blast, good luck with saving humanity, Commander.”

Erwin let out a wry chuckle. “You know that I would never give you the boot. Emmy is another story…”

Erwin considered the possible outcomes. If the child was indeed Levi’s, according to the military code, that would mean both Levi and Emmy would have to be dishonorably discharged. Booting Humanity’s Strongest Soldier from the Survey Corps would be shooting himself in the foot at best and damning the fate of humanity at worst. Although, if he kept their affair under wraps, Emmy’s pregnancy would eventually become a problem. He wasn’t so much of a monster that he would put a pregnant soldier on the front lines. Emmy is a very capable soldier in her own right, but so were many others. Nor could he make her take the fall for this either–it would ruin her.

“Her squadmates are aware that she is sick,” Erwin said. “I could formally put down that she has contracted a severe ailment and give her medical leave. Perhaps it was a flare up from some chronic illness that she had under control, until now. She can return at her own discretion.”

“Beats a dishonorable discharge, but… then she’d have to report for duty after her leave. What about the kid? She doesn’t have a family to take care of it, they're all dead,” Levi said in agitation.

“Then her duty won’t be on the field. She could transfer to office work, again, on the grounds of her documented chronic illness.”

“Then who would take care of the kid?”

Erwin narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t we ask her?” He stood up from his desk with an air of nonchalance. “Bring her here.”

Levi clenched his jaw and left to fetch his pregnant subordinate.

~~

When Emmy entered the Commander’s office, none other than Commander Erwin himself was seated on his small, professional-looking sofa.

“Hello, Emmy. Have a seat.” Erwin gestured for her to sit on the other side of his sofa.

Emmy stood frozen in place while Levi walked past her and plopped down in a chair.

She quickly nodded. “Yes, sir,” she said, quiet as a mouse, then she rushed to the sofa and sat down.

She held her trembling hands together on her lap. It wasn’t often that she had the chance to speak directly to Commander Erwin. Despite only having eyes for the Captain, even she couldn’t resist his charming aura.

But she had to keep it together. This is the moment of truth. She cannot screw this up.

“How are you feeling?” Erwin asked in a low tone of voice.

She cleared her throat. “Uh-I-I’m, uh, fine… sir.” She didn’t have to act here. Her anxiety was so real, her voice went up an octave higher without even trying. She gulped, hoping she wouldn’t throw up all over his nice rug.

“Captain Levi told me the news; that you are with child. Congratulations.”

Emmy glanced at Levi, who had a somber look in his eyes. She then lowered her head, saying nothing.

“Perhaps a ‘congratulations’ is not very appropriate, for the circumstances in which you find yourself are anything but.”

Emmy bit her quivering lower lip. She let out a whisper of a noise, trying to find the courage to speak. This was supposed to be the easiest part, yet here she is, all choked up in the Commander’s office like she’d just seen a titan for the first time.

“Nevertheless, I haven’t summoned you here for a reprimanding. I must ask you, what course of action would you prefer for yourself? I suggested that I give you a medical leave for your chronic illness, and that once you have recovered, you may return to do office work. Captain Levi, however, doesn’t like this plan.”

Emmy lifted her head up, widening her eyes at Erwin.

“I’m not getting punished?” Emmy’s high-pitched voice shook.

“No. This is… a special case, let’s call it that. Now, your thoughts?”

Her heart raced in her burning chest, in any moment her stomach acid could come up, further stripping her of her dignity before her two heroes. How she loathed making herself appear meek. Subordination was one thing, for she would gladly accept the command of a worthy leader. Meekness made her stomach twist in knots.

This is just a means to an end, she reminded herself, fidgeting with her hands all the while Erwin’s and Levi’s eyes locked on her.

Her eyes filled with tears. “I… worked so hard to get to where I am, sir,” her voice cracked, and she blinked her tears free. “To think that… after all this time, my-my career is…” She hiccuped, her voice caught in her throat.

Levi stepped up to her, pulling his handkerchief out from his breast pocket and handing it to her before retreating back to his chair, draping his left arm over the back.

Emmy whined at the kind gesture, her Captain always did have a keen sense of compassion. She gingerly wiped her tears on Levi’s divine handkerchief, almost as soft and silky as his skin. What a shame that her nose was too snotty to be able to smell it.

How despicable this was, and she knew it. After all the times she had been praised for her diligence; for her bravery, even from her beloved Captain Levi.

“I’m not fighting for humanity anymore…”

She never fought for humanity. She fought for herself. For this one goal.

“I’ll just be a mom,” Emmy heaved. “If I did office work, then there wouldn’t be anyone to care for my baby... My family died in the Titan invasion of Shiganshina five years ago!”

“Levi told me the same." Erwin’s eyes bore into her own with intensity, she hadn’t even noticed him blink yet. "What should we do instead, Emmy?”

She blew her nose into the Captain’s handkerchief, sullying the precious thing with her filth.

“Maybe… a medical discharge would be most ideal…?” her voice cracked.

Erwin quirked an eyebrow, and Levi leant forward in his chair.

“A medical discharge?” Erwin broke his gaze away from Emmy for a brief moment as he sat up straight and tilted his head. He then looked at Levi.

“That way,” she continued, “I could stay home to raise my and Captain Levi’s child, without being called into duty,” Emmy said in a lower tone, closer to her natural speaking voice.

The room fell silent. Emmy clutched Levi's soiled handkerchief, her eyebrows knit in worry. This was it. All the Commander had to do was approve. If he doesn’t, then these past five years would have been for nothing.

She would rather kill herself than succumb to a titan. If she had no control over how she could live her life, then at the very least she could control how she would die.

“Emmy… Do you love Levi?”

“Why the fuck would you ask her that?” Levi’s expression twisted into a grimace.

“Well, I’m curious.” Erwin glanced at Levi before turning his body over to Emmy, staring into her eyes again. “Why not one of your fellow squadmates with whom you spend more time in the day getting intimately involved? Why Levi, your superior officer?”

Levi gripped the back of his chair.

Being asked that so suddenly brought on a wave of heat over Emmy. She had a lot to be ashamed of, but there was no shame in loving the man who gave her a purpose for living. If this would help to convince the Commander of going along with her plan, then so be it.

Her breath hitched, her face flushing as she raised her shoulder in a bashful manner. “I do. I am in love with my Captain, sir. I have a close relationship with each of my squadmates, and I do care for them deeply, but the Captain…” Emmy continued with her shaky voice, “There’s no one in the walls who I admire more...”

She winced, dropping her head in embarrassment at admitting this to the both of them, and her eyes had again filled with tears as she bit into her stupid quivering lip. Her stomach gurgled in the silence.

Levi squinted his eyes; a pained, sympathetic look to his face. He’s heard her say it before, but now, he can’t quite shake it off as easily as he once had. This crush of hers that he foolishly fed into led to all of this. He can’t shake off the fact that he’s going to be a father. Father to a child growing inside of his most dedicated subordinate who will lose the career she fought tooth and nail to attain, all because he didn’t keep it in his pants.

Erwin scrutinized her reaction for an uncomfortable length of time.

“Very well, you shall have your medical discharge. Consider this matter settled.”

Emmy released a puff of air as Erwin stood up from his sofa and went over to his desk. “You’ll get lump sum payments for the two years you have spent in active duty. No retirement benefits, I’m afraid, but name one Scout with that privilege.”

Erwin opened one of his drawers and looked through his files. “You have served us well, Emmy… You are dismissed.”

In place of relief, she felt a pang in her heart and cringed as she held herself back from gagging.

“Thank you, Commander Erwin,” she said in a choked voice and leapt up on her feet. She saluted Erwin then glanced at Levi for a split second before turning her head guiltily. She hurried out of Erwin’s office, clinging Levi’s delicate handkerchief to her chest, feeling like the most revolting human being who had ever lived.

Levi sighed from his nostrils as he squeezed the back of his chair so firmly that the wood made a creaking sound. He glared at Erwin, who seemed unfazed.

“Oi. Blondie. Did you have to get so weirdly personal there?”

“I was determining her motive.”

Levi scoffed. “Now you’re calling her a liar? I know her better than you do.”

“There’s no need to get defensive. I granted the woman her wish, did I not?”

“Yeah, but why did you ask her that shitty question?” Levi stood up and strode over to Erwin’s desk. “You had to twist the knife in her wound?” Levi spoke with a harsh, gravelly voice.

“Think about it, Levi. You know who you are.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “I don’t give a shit what her motive is. She’s my comrade in arms. I’ve saved her life, and she’s saved mine. And she didn’t use mind control to get me into bed, I made the choice to fuck her.” Levi leant his fists against Erwin’s desk. “Fact of the matter is, I knocked her up. This is my responsibility, Erwin. End of story.”

Erwin hummed. “That is your prerogative, Levi.” Erwin found what he was looking for, and took out a medical discharge document before sitting down. “Even so, ‘taking responsibility’ here entails that this will remain strictly confidential. I am effectively sweeping this under the rug. If there is any documentation of you and Emmy having an intimate relationship, that could be held against me as Commander.”

“I get it. I’m not marrying her.”

“And you must make it clear to her that any sexual affiliation she has with you is not to be shared with anyone. In your heart you can claim it, though, legally, that child is not yours.” Erwin dipped his quill into ink and began writing onto the document. “She was diagnosed with a debilitating chronic illness and is hereby found to be medically unfit for duty. If perchance anyone discovers her pregnancy, it is nothing more than a subsequent occurrence of her early retirement.”

Levi’s knuckles still against the wood, his jet black fringe curtaining over his aggrieved, downcast face.

“I’ll be sure to spell that out for her.”

~~

Join my taglist @sixpennydame

[hepbaestus]

Egg Camp Day 1 - Arrival

I can't draw for shit but I can write! So here's my egg Ping's first day at camp (@which-qsmp-egg-would 's wonderful egg camp event. I hope I wrote your eggs' well @semifontos and @grapesintomatosoup)

Put under a read more because it's like 1k words and I don't want to clog up people's dashes :)

(It is also not proofread, so please ignore any glaring errors . It is almost midnight as I'm writing this)

He’d enjoyed the bus ride to the camp, albeit feeling a little nauseous from the bumpy dirt road that the minivan had driven down to get to the camp. The sounds of birds chirping their songs, and grass swaying in the wind attracted Ping’s attention as he jumped from the last step to the ground. He gripped the straps of his penguin backpack tight as he did, it had been a gift from his grandparents at the announcement of his trip, they had wanted him to enjoy his time without worrying about the goings on at home.

It was his first time at any sort of camp so he looked around for someone who looked like an authoritative person, they saw the others who’d been on the bus milling about underneath a wooden arch, with beautiful engravings carved out, which stated that he was at ‘Camp Egg’. It was a gated area surrounded by lush tall trees of heights he’d never seen before, having lived in the bustling city where nature was not so lustrous.

Guided to the central point of camp, where in the distance a river could be seen, they were greeted by a stage where seven figures stood, smiles on their faces. Ping stuck to the back of the group, lagging behind slightly as he took in the sights. Egg Camp was a place he’d wanted to go for years, finally being allowed to go after much begging and negotiation on completed chores. 

“We here at Camp Egg aim to provide a place of fun, entertainment, learning and community,” the white figure with a brown moustache spoke as they moved towards the front of the stage, commandeering the arrival’s attention. Ping, lost in their fascination, did not face the stage with his head, still in awe at the shades of colours he’d not seen in such vast quantities.

“There will be many opportunities here at Camp Egg, however, since it is your first day, you will spend the day moving into your new cabin room.” The evident leader spoke, finally gaining Ping’s attention at the mention of moving into cabins. It was something that he’d fretted over, back at home, as he hoped his cabin mates would like him. 

The names of camp counsellors were announced, as with their assigned campers. Groups of three were guided towards their cabin, all walking quickly to learn about the space they’d be sharing for the foreseeable future. The white figure spoke once more, with the rabbit man standing by his side, followed by the sound of two pairs of feet shuffling their way out of the now dwindling group before the white figure spoke once more, 

“Ping. Is Ping present?” He’d been shaken out of his stupor, it having been clear from the figure’s voice that this was not the first time his name was announced. The rabbit man looked across the crowd as Ping awkwardly lifted his hand and was gestured by the rabbit man to stand with his bunkmates to the side of the group.

The two he’d be sharing a cabin with looked sweet, one with shaggy white hair and white wings and the other shorter, and certainly more nervous as she was tightly clutching a bunny plushie to her chest. His shoulders fell from their tightened hold in anxiousness as he walked towards them,  releasing the breath he’d held. He would have a fun time, he would just have to remember that there were likely people more nervous than he was and that he’d need to tread lightly so as to not destroy any chance of making friends.

They were led away from the group and to a building of white quartz with a bamboo roof. The entrance was raised, with bamboo railings for safety, they followed the rabbit to the entrance. As Mr. Rabbit, as he’d introduced himself on the way up, opened the door, the sound of a loud horn disrupted their movements. They all turned towards where the sound had originated, with the sounds of birds fleeing their nests in fear overhead, as the blank smiling figure announced once more, “Welcome to Camp Egg.”

Mr. Rabbit turned to face them once more, before detailing who he was and what he expected of the three. It was nothing too exciting but Ping paid close attention, not wanting to miss out on important information. As Mr. Rabbit spoke, he reached behind him and twisted his bag so that he could unzip it and grab something. He quickly lifted his hand back out, clutching yellow squares of decorated fabric.

“This needs to be visible at all times,” Mr. Rabbit spoke while separating the squares from one another before handing one to the tallest of the three, “this is our cabin’s signature bandana. It isn’t there just to be soft and pretty. It’s there in case any of you get lost and are stranded with another cabin.”

He hands a second bandana to the nervous child as the taller one tightly secures theirs around their arm, “It’s there so that any of the other cabin leaders know to call me if you get stuck with them,” he chuckles to himself as he holds out the final bandana to Ping.

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

With the bandana he’d been given as Mr. Rabbit departed inside, he tied it around his forehead, holding the hair up minutely. He’d been the last to receive his cabin signifying item, with a gentle scolding about paying attention, he walked through the doors.

The inside decorations of the cabin could only be described as warm to Ping, with earthy wooden tones to compliment the yellow appointment of the cabin. There was a small bathroom to one side, a door with a small sign stating that it was Mr. Rabbit’s room and a door slightly ajar with rustling sounds coming from it. He explored some more, quickly placing his bathroom items in his labelled basket, before heading to the bedroom.

As he entered he was greeted once more by his bunkmates, with the winged one half leaning half sitting on one of the beds and the other hurriedly searching her bag. For the grandeur of the cabin’s exterior, the bedroom was rather plain, with both single and bunk beds and a framed bandana above the door frame.

He gently placed his rucksack and bag on an unclaimed bed next to a window. It had a nice view of the landscape that surrounded the camp and it would hopefully help them sleep in the first few days of getting used to the routine he would learn. Sitting on the bed, with one leg dangling slightly above the floor, he gently rested his penguin shaped backpack against the pillows and lifted his main bag onto the duvet.

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

The three bunk mates spent the next several hours talking amongst themselves, getting comfortable sharing each other’s space, unpacking their belongings and learning about the places in which they’d grown up. All three came from starkly different places but they found common ground in the things that made those places home; the people, the sights, the smells, the things that gave them comfort. Though different for each person, each of them could relate to those feelings and places to their hometowns.

[skymaiden32]

A Different Life

Read on AO3 here

Fandom: Thunderbirds

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn @idontknowreallywhy (Please ask if you would like to get alerts when I update or post new stories.)

Thundertober Day 5: Pilot

Scott’s memories of his last day in the Air Force.

Continuity: TAG

------

Scott breathed a sigh of relief when he was finally able to collapse onto the hard mattress of his bunk, careful not to injure his broken arm as he fell any further. His bunkmate, Alex Birch, sat on a nearby chair, raised an eyebrow. “How’d it go with the boss?” 

“I don’t know, Alex…” He sighed, running his uninjured hand down his tired face. “I don’t know what to make of all of this. I just feel so…” He paused, trying to find the right phrase. “...jumbled still.” 

It had been just a week since Scott’s miraculous return from the brink of death in Bereznik. Not long enough, if you asked Alex’s opinion. Between Scott losing Greg Hodge, his navigator, in the crash, being held prisoner and tortured, and somehow crossing the wilderness back to base after escaping on his own without help…

It was too much. “No wonder you feel that way.” Alex commented, not ashamed of the sadness in his tone. “You’ve been through hell and back.” He chuckled humourlessly. “I’d be a bit jumbled too.”

Scott sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “The Commander outright ordered me to leave today. Take a break. Said he wouldn’t be surprised if I quit completely. Even offered to give me an honourable discharge if I did.”

“And?” Alex probed, turning his chair so he was facing his friend on the bunk. He immediately took notice of how exhausted Scott looked. “What will you do? After your leave I mean?”

His friend sat up slowly, staring ahead at the wall. “I… I don’t know.” He admitted. “A part of me wants to call it quits and stay safe for my family,” Scott explained. “But the other part of me loves flying more than anything.” He finally looked over at his friend. “Even after all of that, I can’t let it go just like that.”

“I know, Ace…” Alex smiled sympathetically, reverting to the squad nicknames for some sense of normality. He hummed. “Doesn’t your Dad’s company specialise in aerospace? Maybe you could get a job as a test pilot there?”

For the first time in what felt like years, Scott smiled. “The whole reason I signed up to the USAF in the first place was to avoid leaning on the family name, Spins.” He chuckled.

“I know,” Alex smirked, laughing. “Just throwing the idea out there.” He sobered up, looking seriously to his friend now. “But whatever choice you make, whatever path you’re on, I’m sure it’ll be your true calling in life.”

“Yeah…” Scott replied. “I guess it will be.”

------

He broke out of the memory, now staring focussed at what had reminded him of that fateful day. The base he had once been stationed at, now closed down due to ground subsidence in the area. International Rescue had been called to get to some officers who had been swallowed up by the very earth beneath their feet. On his right, Virgil stood faithfully, looking worriedly between Scott and the dilapidated base. “Are you okay, Scott?”

“Yeah.” He breathed out, a little too quiet for his brother to hear. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He repeated, louder this time. “The rescue’s over now, anyway…”

“Then,” Virgil began, puzzled. “Why are we still here?”

“The Commander of the base is Alex Birch, right?”

“According to John, yeah…” The pilot of Thunderbird 2 answered, before his eyes widened in realisation, watching the crowd of officers part to reveal the Commander himself, walking towards them. “Wait, wasn’t he in your-”

“My squadron? Yep.” Scott replied. “He was also the one who helped me the most after…” He paused, drawing himself back from those painful memories. “You know…” Virgil knew. He always did.

Alex stopped in front of the two brothers, giving Scott a respectful salute. One that Scott was all too happy to return. “Commander Tracy.”

“Commander Birch.” Scott replied. “I’d like you to meet Virgil, my brother.”

Alex’s eyes lit up in recognition as he shook Virgil’s hand. “Ah, so you’re the one I’d heard so much about from Ace here back in the day.”

Virgil chuckled. “In that case, I hope I lived up to expectations.”

“More than that.” Birch smiled at him. “You knocked them out of the park with that rescue. I can see Scott’s heroism truly is a family trait.” The grin turned melancholy. “You keep taking good care of him, you hear?”

“As much as I can at least” The younger of the two Tracy’s laughed. “He’s always going off somewhere…”

“Hey!” Scott frowned, but the little twinkle in his eyes still remained. “I don’t go AWOL that often.”

“Sure you don’t.” Alex commented.

“I don’t believe it either.” Virgil agreed. Scott groaned. “I’ll leave you two to chat for a bit while I finish packing up.” And just like that, Virgil was off back to Thunderbird 2, leaving the two men to catch up. Scott watched his brother go, smiling in fondness.

Alex’s voice broke into his thoughts. “I told you so.”

Scott looked at his old friend questioningly, although he already knew exactly what he was talking about. “What do you mean?”

“That you’d find your calling…”

Thunderbird 1 caught his gaze, gleaming a bright silver in the setting sun, a symbol of everything Scott Tracy was and what he worked for.“I did, didn’t I?” Scott answered, looking between his brother, his ship, and Alex. “It sure is a different life, but it’s one I wouldn’t change for the world.”

[kay-elle-cee]

@jilytoberfest 31 Prompts: Day 26 || 891 Words || Read on Ao3 I took a lot of liberties with this one lmao —

Taking great care not to snap any twigs, Lily slowly makes her way from her troop’s cabin to the dying campfire, sitting on a slightly damp log and wiping again at the residual tears leaking from her eyes.

She knows she’s not supposed to be out after curfew—if one of the camp counselors were to find her, she’d be in big trouble. But the nightmare that startled her awake was also preventing her from falling back asleep, and she wanted to deal with her embarrassment alone and away from her bunkmates should any of them wake up.

What kind of twelve-year-old has nightmares at sleepaway camp? 

Her eyes stare fixedly into the dim embers of the fire as she wills any negative and scary thoughts to burn with them. After a few moments, the oppressive weight of the dreams begin to lift just in time for a rustling on the other side of the campfire to douse her in new terror.

I’m sleepwalking, she thinks, immediately latching onto the excuse should one of the counselors emerge and begin to scold her.

Only it’s not a counselor who emerges from the treeline on the other side of the campfire, but a boy. A boy who looks around her age—with wildly messy hair the color of the night—whose eyes go wide in surprise behind his glasses.

“Oh!” He glances behind him nervously, and Lily uses this opportunity to wipe the last bits of moisture from her cheeks. The last thing she wants is to be made fun of after trying so hard to be alone. The boy looks back at her, and she realizes instantly that she hasn’t done a good enough job at hiding her sadness. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” she answers with a nod, dropping her eyes from his to stare back into the dim light of the fire. “Just needed some air.”

“This is a far way from the girls’ cabins.”

“It’s midway through camp, so I guess I could say the same thing to you.”

“Oh, well…” the boy looks behind him again, almost in contemplation, before turning and smiling at her excitedly. “Can you keep a secret?”

Lily doesn’t know why she does it, but she nods, something about the boy’s excitement easing that terror that’s gripped her since she woke up. He takes a few steps towards her, throwing one last look behind him before focusing on her.

“We’re going to scramble all the signs around in the common areas!”

Her brows knit together. “Why?”

This seems to have taken some of the wind out of the boy’s sails. “What do you mean why? It’s funny!”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I guess that could be funny.”

The boy blinks, shifting his weight between his feet. “Are you sure you’re alright? Why’d you come out here, anyway?” Lily’s opening her mouth to parrot her earlier answer and he holds out a hand to cut her off. “And don’t say you needed air—you could’ve just stayed by your cabin for that.”

Well crap. She hesitates, eyes flitting between the boy, the dim fire, and the sliver of moon visible above the treetops. Finally, she sighs, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I had a…nightmare.”

The boy doesn’t tease her, as she finds herself expecting. Instead, his brows furrow and he nods understandably. “Oh, yeah. I used to get nightmares all the time. Don’t have them as much anymore, but some of the boys in the cabin woke up the first few nights here.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Yeah. The rest of us got up and turned on some loud music to drown out all the bad thoughts. Some of the boys just jumped around to shake out the feelings, and then after about five minutes we went back to sleep.” Tilting his head to the side, he considers her. “Have you tried that?”

“My whole cabin’s asleep…I can’t really…” her face reddens again, and she’s thankful for the cover of night to hide it. “I don’t want them to make fun of me for having bad dreams.”

The boy looks at her thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t think they’d make fun of you, but if you’d rather do it here, I’d be happy to help you.”

Her face is absolutely scarlet now. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“There’s four of us—I can show up a little late.”

She considers it. Considers jumping around to non-existent music in the smothered light of the campfire with this boy she doesn’t know, who’s looking at her hopefully, like he can fix what’s wrong with her.

She almost says yes.

Instead, she shakes her head, an embarrassed smile curling her mouth up. “No, I should get back before anyone notices I’m gone.”

Shrugging, the boy grins. “Suit yourself. But if you change your mind, you can always come looking for me.”

Lily can’t help but to laugh quietly. “Change my mind? We’d be skinned alive if anyone knew we were out this late! Besides, I don’t even know you.”

“Oh right. Name’s James.”

“Well, Name’s James, thank you, but I think I’ve got it under control.” Lily takes a few steps back in the direction towards her cabin before stopping to look over her shoulder, where she sees James watching her with a funny kind of smile. “Thanks again, though. And good luck with your prank.”

[yunhoszn]

but i like u

pairing kim minjae x f!reader word count 2.8k genre fluff﹒slight angst warnings mature language, camp counselor au, forced proximity lol, enemies to lovers (?), a cliffhanger bc im evil like that

summary despite being calm and collected most of the time, minjae’s patience can’t help being tested when you’re around. what’s he to do when unforeseen circumstances have you stuck bunking together for the rest of camp?

more omg fawn comeback??? and with a xikers fic??? who are they 🫢 LMFAOOOO anyway i had a lot of fun writing this and i have few things planned for the future so pls stick around <3 i would like to once again thank @/bro-atz for enabling my journey into roadyism and also beta’ing this fic and helping me with its development,,, ily the mostest <3

@bro-atz @yessa-vie

as a kid, minjae couldn’t give less of a fuck what others thought of him. 

sure, he appreciated the validation here and there— especially when it was very well deserved— but for the most part, he was content as long as he was happy with himself. if he came in second place for anything, it honestly wasn’t a big deal. if he couldn’t get the hang of something, he’d move on without dwelling on it. he was the definition of nonchalant and carefree; with his picture right next to the word in the dictionary. 

but then he grew up, and he learned that the saint-like patience he wore was actually pretty thin. 

at least that was the case when it came to you, the one person who always seemed to get right under his skin. you didn’t even have to try, you just knew exactly what ways you could irritate minjae— unintentional or not.

the two of you had been camp counselors together for the past three summers, and you were reaching the end of your fourth and final. saying that it was an experience for him was an understatement. he’d spent most of that time competing with you during activities that were hosted and the kids you were tasked with looking over teased you both for your silly rivalry. but he just couldn’t lose to you, especially not this year. he had to go out with a bang. 

“what the hell do you mean i have to share a cabin with her?”

minjae gapes at the camp director, who didn’t seem to see a problem with this unexpected arrangement. she wraps her hair into a bun and sticks her pen through it to hold it in place, shrugging and not at all phased by his reaction. “sorry minjae, but y/n’s was flooded during the storm last weekend and with the amount of campers, we can’t afford to only have one counselor.”

the weekend before, there was a pretty nasty storm and for the safety of the campers, everyone got sent home. today was the first day back. kim minjae didn’t consider himself a bitter person, but the sight of the camp director and her stupid coveralls was pissing him off. why did he have to share his personal space with you? she could’ve easily put you elsewhere, like any of the other ten cabins on the campgrounds. 

“does she know that we have to bunk together?” he breathes, jaw clenching to keep his composure. you were running late, again, so it was just him and the director in her office before the campers arrived. he feels his blood pressure skyrocket when she shakes her head ‘no’. 

“i was hoping you’d break the news to her. what better way to bond with your new bunkmate?” she smiles and ruffles his hair, side-stepping so she can head out to the main part of the campgrounds. minjae stands like a fish out of water for a few seconds, taken aback by the director’s obvious attempt to kill him. 

she knew that you didn’t get along with one another, mainly because your competition was so over the top that even the most oblivious person could tell. you were essentially the human equivalent of fire and gasoline, interchangeable. 

minjae thinks his hair is about to fall out from how stressed he is, walking out to the central area where a good amount of campers have begun to congregate. as much as he dreaded working alongside you during the summer, he felt like he was actually going to miss being a counselor here. he has a lot of pleasant memories at this place, some including you. 

almost as if he summoned you with his mind, you come jogging towards him, your bags practically weighing you down. he doesn’t know why, but he examines your figure as you do; noting how you’re dressed in jean shorts and a t-shirt that looks oddly familiar. it’s a little big on you, so you have it tied into a knot in front of you. his eyes narrow as he tries to figure out why it feels like he’s seen the shirt before. 

you pause beside him, out of breath and winded from what he assumes was the run from the parking lot to here. your hands rest on your knees as you hunch over to regain your sanity. “fuck, i should’ve— i shouldn’t have skipped out during p.e. in high school.” 

“you’re late every time, y/n. i don’t know why you’re so surprised,” minjae sighs, shoving his hands into his shorts’ pockets. “anyway, i have to tell you something and i don’t think you’re gonna like it.”

“okay, but do i like anything that comes out of your mouth?” you raise an eyebrow, finally standing upright. he hates that you’re right, but he’ll give credit where it’s due. 

“touché,” his lips purse and he turns away so he’s not making eye contact as he relays the awful update. “basically, your cabin got flooded over the weekend and there was a lot of water damage, so now they’re sticking you in mine… with me.”

you blink at him, as if the words he’s saying are so unbelievable that doing anything else would wake you up from a dream. (nightmare? same thing.) his expression remains stoic to prove that he’s not lying, and that he’s just as ticked off by the situation, if not more. you open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. minjae can’t help but feel confused, head cocking to the side like a puppy. 

“w-we can’t do something else? do i have to share a cabin with you?” the desperation in your voice is a little bit heavier than he would’ve expected. 

“do you really think i didn’t try to argue my way out? it’s non-negotiable apparently.” 

you both leave it at that and head into the mess hall where the campers have all gathered. the camp director is standing on her soap box spieling about how excited she is for the duration of the retreat. she reminds everyone of the areas that are off limits and then sends everyone on their way. for the second opening night, it wasn’t as eventful as the first. minjae could only hope that the rest of his time here is the same, relaxed.

because he was so punctual, minjae had arrived an hour early and already put away all of his things. since you were late, he had to make a few new accommodations. the cabins were actually supposed to house two people anyway, and usually there were four total counselors each summer. however, this year only yourself and minjae came back, which is why you had your own cabins. this would be worse if he had to share a bed with you.

he grunts as he drops your heaviest bag on the bed he hadn’t claimed. there were only a couple weeks of camp left, what could you have possibly brought with you? he truly didn’t understand girls and their need to overpack for everything. he stumbles towards his bed and collapses onto it, throwing a hand over his forehead. the back of his mind is still itching to figure out why the shirt you’re wearing seems so recognizable.

”thanks for that. i could’ve carried them all myself.” 

“you may annoy the fuck out of me, but i’m still a gentleman.”

you snort at that, beginning to put some of your clothes away. “that’s not what yunhee told me last year.”

that has him sitting up quick. he had a very brief fling with one of the other counselors last summer, but it didn’t work out. while it was fun, he just couldn’t keep seeing her knowing that he held almost no romantic feelings for her. isn’t it better of him to call things off rather than string her along?

”what did she say?” he’s curious. he didn’t even know you and yunhee were close aside from sharing a cabin last year. what could she have possibly told you that potentially villainized him? you turn to him with an unreadable look in your eyes.

”that you ended it with her because you didn’t really like her like that. there wasn’t a nicer way to phrase it?”

”no, there wasn’t,” he deadpans. “if i was an asshole, i would’ve kept fooling around with her despite the fact. that’s not who i am, so i was honest with her instead.”

“i don’t know, if that’s really true, wouldn’t she have come back this summer? think about it, minjae, if she thought you were this sweet, thoughtful gentleman, she wouldn’t be avoiding you like the plague.” you go back to your clothes and miss the way he all but twitches out of aggravation.

“i wasn’t aware that you were suddenly best friends. and what does it matter what happened between me and her? you’re in no position to be judging when you did the exact same thing to junmin.” he states matter-of-factly. he wasn’t making things up, you really did pull practically the same stunt on the former counselor. the only difference is that they actually were friends. 

“i’m not the reason why junmin didn’t return, though. we ended things mutually. you and i are not the same.” you stop unpacking, whipping around to glare at him. 

“that’s not what he told me,” minjae uses your own words against you, a small smirk of satisfaction pulling across his lips. “apparently you really broke his heart.”

“you know what, fine. i’ll tell you why i ended it with him. it’s actually because—” you’re about to minimize the space between you, but you’re interrupted. 

your mouth snaps shut before either of you could continue the petty argument, minjae’s walkie talkie going off. he grabs it and calls out to whoever’s on the other line, which happens to be the camp director. she sounds distressed, and that’s a shocker considering she was one of the most calm people he knew.

”one of the campers is missing! i need you two to help me find him!”

”shit,” minjae curses under his breath. “we’re on it.”

this wouldn’t be the first time this has happened. at least once a year, one of the campers decides they’re brave and wants to impress their friends by venturing off into the woods— an off limits area. you put a pin in your conversation for the time being, traversing to the suspected spot. the sun was beginning to set and with the canopy of trees blocking out most of the remaining sunlight, all either of you could rely on was your knowledge of the campgrounds. 

“shouldn’t we have brought a flashlight?” you ask, eyes trained on the ground to avoid tripping over a tree branch or a root. 

“why didn’t you grab it? it was on your side of the cabin.” minjae throws over his shoulder, not really in the mood to argue when you have more pressing issues right now. 

“well sorry if i’m not familiar with your cabin, wise guy. it’s almost like i just got here!” the sarcasm in your tone is enough to wear down his already weak restraint, but even then, you have to keep adding onto it. “you know, i’m starting to get real sick of your attitude, minjae.”

this has him halting his steps, spinning around to face you. caught slightly off guard, you nearly walk right into him. “you’re sick of my attitude? how do you think i fucking feel? all you do is test my patience, starting problems for no reason. like bringing up yunhee.”

“you brought up junmin!” you exclaim. minjae can’t help but scoff.

”again, because you brought up yunhee,” he crosses his arms over his chest. “this entire thing wouldn’t have happened had you just kept your thoughts and opinions to yourself.”

“i brought it up for a reason,” you frown, the conversation steering off the original path. “i actually had something i wanted to tell you about the whole situation.”

“like what? y/n, i’m tired of this cat and dog game. i’ve spent the past few years fighting with you more than anything else and for what, some personal vendetta you have against me? i don’t even know what i did for you to—“

”god, minjae, you’re so fucking stupid.” you laugh to yourself, the heel of your palm coming up to the space between your eyes. his brows furrow together, thoroughly puzzled by your comment. he knows you aren’t necessarily the fondest of each other, but damn, did it warrant such a mean response?

“i’m— what?” 

“i don’t have a personal vendetta against you,” you start, hands resting on your hips as you look away to hide the embarrassment flooding your features. “this whole rivalry or whatever we have going on has never been serious for me. sure, competing with you is fun, but that’s not why i do it. the truth is i’ve had the biggest crush on you since we first became counselors together. that’s why i broke it off with junmin. i couldn’t tell you, because it was just easier for me to be irritating than to be upfront with my feelings. bullying is one of my love languages, i guess.” 

okay. so maybe minjae is so fucking stupid, because his brain is not comprehending a single thing you just told him.

he’s staring. he knows he’s staring, but he can’t think clearly. words aren’t wording. how does he respond to that? you start fiddling with your fingers and he realizes this is the shyest he’s ever seen you in the four years he’s known you. he nudges himself out of his shellshock when he notices you kicking at some rocks.

”can— can you please say something?” you ask as if you were shrinking in on yourself. 

“y/n,” he says, taking a step closer to you and putting his hand on top of yours, pausing your fiddling. “do you know how much time and energy could’ve been saved if you told me this so long ago?”

“i know, i know,” you sigh. “i was just scared? if you rejected me, it would make things awkward. it was just simpler to have you hate me instead.”

“i don’t hate you,” minjae shakes his head. “i’ve never hated you. yeah, you made me want to ram my head through a brick wall every now and then, but i’ve never hated you.”

the small smile that graces your lips has his heart rate increasing. and then you make it worse. 

“this is your shirt, by the way. i may have stolen it last summer, but only because you forgot it here and i had to do a cabin sweep after everyone left.” you admit sheepishly. well, that explains it. it drives him a little insane, actually; the sight of you in his clothes. he doesn’t know why, especially because up until right now, you’ve been the object of his aggravation. 

“can i ask you a question,” minjae swallows, a breathless laugh escaping him when you nod. “is it weird that i kinda wanna kiss you?”

he watches as your eyes widen, and suddenly he can see the stars they hold. he’s never paid close enough attention to notice them before, always too mad to examine each and every detail of your face. you were right. he is fucking stupid. you’re the most beautiful girl he thinks he’s ever laid eyes on, and he can’t believe he’s spent all this time ignoring that. 

“not at all,” your fingers slip from his grasp, tip toe along his arm and then bury in his hair. “i kinda wanna kiss you, too.”

minjae takes that as his cue to lean in, nose just about to brush your own when—

“ew! what are you guys doing?!” 

you pull back from each other swiftly, nearly dying from cardiac arrest after the jump scare. the kid who had gone missing earlier that evening is peeking from behind a tree trunk, the most appalled look on his face. minjae’s ears tint a deep shade of red and you stare at your feet to maintain your own sanity.

oh yeah. the whole reason you were out here in the first place.

minjae collects himself before assuming his role as a counselor once again. “you almost scared us half to death, kid. c’mon let’s get you back to your cabin before the director calls your parents.”

the little boy’s shoulders sag in disappointment when he realizes he’s been caught, but he follows you nonetheless. he pushes him along towards the main campgrounds and you walk beside him, hands laced behind your back. you glance over at him, lip between your teeth. “well, this sucks.”

he hums, sending you an unfamiliar smile. “we can continue this later.”

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[bts-hyperfixation]

Finding Solace in Uniform

A hoseok X reader fanfiction

Summer Madness 6/10 Chapter 1 of 3 or 4. Hoseok has been struggling with adjusting to military life. Foreign soldier Y/N takes pity on the poor guy and tries to help him out. Slow burn, strangers to lover, military life

You watched as the pathetic-looking recruit pushed his food around his plate for the hundredth time. His food had turned into mush more than substance with all the mixing he had done. Someone across from you was talking but none of it was going in. You were more concerned about the look in this man's eyes. He looked haunted, his tired eyes fixated on the table as his leg vibrated under the table. 

Others in the room seemed to be avoiding him and you couldn't quite work out why. He seemed friendly, offering a smile to those around him, and he had a few friends from his trainee days that you saw him around the base with on occasion, but he seemed to be receding in on himself.

"Would you stop looking at him, you're going to get in trouble." Your bunkmate, Alyssa, scolded. 

"What? Why?" You asked.

"What do you mean why? You know we aren't supposed to treat the idols that end up here any differently." She says as if it's obvious. 

You glance back at the man, more subtle this time. You would never have put money on him being an idol. Sure he is handsome, but he doesn't have the same spark the other idols you've met seem to have had. 

"Is he from a group? Or a solo artist?" You ask, interest piqued.

Alyssa just rolls her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief.  You notice a few others at your table have also begun to resemble goldfish as they tune into your conversation.

"I'm not sure I want to humour you with an answer to that." Alyssa scoffs. "But I will if only to keep you out of trouble. That's Jung Hoseok, or,  J-Hope of BTS, the biggest K-pop group on the planet, also known as the group that makes up most of the South Korean economy. It's a travesty you've ended up posted here without knowing that"

"Right, okay, so big deal then. Got it." 

You give her a somewhat sarcastic thumbs up, it seems as though she might be being a tad dramatic. Of course, you've heard of BTS, you lived on an Army base, not under a rock, you just never bothered looking that deep into them. Then the conversation begins to shift into who is and isn't on duty for the next shift, and you keep eating your meal, checking out 'J-Hope' from the corner of your eye every so often. 

____________

Three days later and your lunch times align again. You haven't been able to get the defeated look in his eyes out of your brain since. You collect your tray and glance between where Alyssa is sitting waving at you, and where Hoseok is sitting, the space across from him free. 

You decide to just go for it, plopping yourself down across from the idol. 

He seems briefly surprised by your appearance, but he doesn't mention it. He just smiles politely and shuffles a little uncomfortably before turning his attention back to his meal. 

"Hello, I'm Y/N." You introduce yourself.

You can see a fair few people watching you curiously. It seems ridiculous, you know you aren't the first person to have talked to him, and you certainly wouldn't be the last. But some people on the base were very wary of mixing foreigners and Korean personnel. For a foreign woman to approach an idol would seem ludicrous to some. But you couldn't watch him clearly declining for the next year of his mandatory service. 

He swallows a bite of food and eyes you up and down. Now it's your turn to shuffle uncomfortably. Normally you are a very confident person, but it was starting to feel like maybe you should've left well enough alone. 

"I'm Hoseok." He finally responds. 

He places his chopsticks down and extends his hand towards you to shake. You take it gladly and he seems to relax a little. 

"How are you finding military life?" You ask, getting straight to the point.

"It's different, very different...I guess it's just very new to me" He responds.

"You get used to the restrictions after a few months, you've just gotta roll with it. Eventually, everything becomes second nature." You shrug.

You stab your chopstick into a piece of meat you'd originally been chasing around the tray. He stifles a laugh at your ineptness with chopsticks and it eases you into a friendly silence for a while as you eat. It doesn't take you long to both finish your meals and part ways. 

The next day he joins you at your table when he walks in. You're all a little surprised when he walks up, having to jab Alyssa in the ribs to get her to close her mouth. You make room for him next to you and again you eat in a comfortable silence. However, this time when he finishes his meal he turns to you to speak.

"How long have you been on base?"

"I've been here for around two years now I think." You answer, mentally totalling the months. 

"Do you like it?" 

"Most of the time yeah." You shrug.

His eyebrows knit together like he is thinking hard about something but then without really saying much else he excuses himself and returns to his duty. 

Your friends all give you questioning looks when he is out of sight but you're just as confused as they are by the entire interaction. You tidy up your cutlery and make your own way back to your post to finish out the day, thankful for the upcoming weekend. You had planned a hotel weekend to get some time to yourself outside of the bunks. 

Of course, the day dragged on as you thought more and more about the free time coming your way. Others asked about your plans as you asked about theirs out of politeness, You all knew you were all doing as little as possible this weekend after a long stint on duty. The most you were likely to do was roll out of bed to go to KBBQ and then roll back again. 

Your stuff is already packed and waiting for you hidden under your bunk to maintain the uniformity of your bed. 

You sign out of the barracks at 18:00 hours and breath a sigh of release as your kakao taxi pulls up to whisk you away to your wonderful solitude. 

_________

You lie within the fluffy white sheets, losing yourself between the pillows as you flip through channels aimlessly. You scroll through your social media channels and connect with family for a little while. Eventually, your stomach groans in protest, and you relent to having to drag yourself out of the soft bed at nearly midnight to run and fetch food from the corner store. 

For a couple of minutes, you search for your headphones in the bottom of your backpack, strewing all of the items you packed across the chair and desk. You told yourself you'd tidy up when you came back, but even then you knew it was a lie. Triumphantly, you find the earbuds tucked away in a bottom corner and finally head outside. 

Luckily the corner store is less than a five-minute walk down the road. There was a small shop in the hotel itself but they only seemed to have snacks and you fancied something more filling.

You purchase ramen, ttokbokei, and a drink from the bored-looking kid behind the register. And set your things down on the bar across the window. Your headphones are blaring music in your ears and you dance around heating up your ramen and pouring your drink over ice. Eventually, you turn back around to go and sit down to eat your meal, only to find someone had set up shop next to you. 

You slide awkwardly into your seat, hoping the stranger hadn't watched you lipsync into your straw. In your defense it was well after midnight, you should've been alone. You glance at the man, trying to gauge whether or not he had seen you, only to lock eyes with Hoseok. 

He has a baseball cap pulled low over his face, and a black face mask hangs around his chin - A staple look for an idol in disguise. 

"Hello Y/N." He says, smiling cheerfully. "I saw you walk in, I hope I'm not bothering you."

You slide your earphones out of your ears and put them away. 

"I didn't think I'd see anyone from the base out here." You comment.

You had chosen a place you knew people rarely visited on their weekends for the best chance at maximum privacy. However, you find yourself not minding Hoseok's sudden appearance. Perhaps you get the chance to satiate the bizarre curiosity the man inspired in you.

"I like this side of town... it's quiet." He shrugs.

"Yeah, me too."

You offer him some of your rice cake and he passes you part of the bread snack he had purchased. Once more you find yourselves eating together in peaceful camaraderie. 

When the food is gone neither of you moves to leave. So you decide to try and get a better read on the man 

"Is base life getting any easier?" 

He thinks about it for a moment before he responds. 

"I'm not sure I'm ever going to adjust fully. It's vastly different to idol life. I guess I miss performing." it feels like he cuts himself off.

It's not surprising that he might not want to go into detail with a near stranger. You can't even begin to empathise with the things he is going through, but you do find yourself wanting to help him somehow. 

"It must be quite a big switch from stadium tours to military barracks... That's got to be hard regime change" 

"If anything the training for military life was a lot less strenuous." He laughs  "At least I knew what to expect each day, and the creative energy is minimal."

You're about to press a little further when he suddenly jumps up like the chair bit him. 

"Oh shi..." He groans.

He pulls the mask over his nose and grabs your hand, yanking you into the aisles of the minimart. You look at him like he has gone insane just as the bell on the door chimes. You glance over the stacks to see a woman with a camera in her hands searching around the premises. Catching on to the fact Hoseok was clearly hoping to avoid being caught in public you slip your hand away from his and walk towards the woman.

You 'accidentally' block her way around the store a few times, allowing Hoseok the time to escape through the front door. You can see him opening the door carefully out of the corner of your eye, only to be betrayed by the bell as he rushes out. You successfully counter the girl's movements twice more until she gets exasperated and just moves you out of the way. You hope it's enough that Hoseok has managed to disappear.

The girl walks outside of the corner store and glances all around, clearly grumbling to herself when she comes up empty.

You smile to yourself, a little bit proud to have helped him evade whoever that was. 

You tidy up the mess the pair of you had left in your haste and then set about walking back to the hotel for a good night's rest.

You don't get very far before you are pulled into an alleyway. Immediately your hands fly up to attack whoever had grabbed you, just to be met once again with Hoseok (Admittedly this time he is less smiley and more terrified of the way your fists are raised). He backs away with his hands up and you lower yours sheepishly.

"Sorry... I think she was Dispatch." He explains

"They are paparazzi right?" 

"Yeah, they are. They are always everywhere." He shakes his head frustrated. "That's something I really don't miss when I'm on base... Did you see where she went?"

"She headed down the street across from the store."

"Wonderful." He sighs sarcastically. "That's where I parked."

"Ah, not good. Do you have any other way to get to where you are staying?" 

"No, no I do not."

"Guess you're coming with me then" You shrug. 

You begin to lead the way out of the alley, looking both ways to ensure the photographer has in fact gone. You get a couple of metres down the street before you realise Hoseok is not following. 

You retrace your steps to find him standing in the same spot looking a little shellshocked. 

"Are you planning to stay here all night?" You raise an eyebrow at him. 

He stammers a little, looking more flustered than you thought possible. It is then it occurs to you that you just invited a near stranger into your bedroom in the middle of the night. Something that is odd in your own country, let alone in Korea.

"To hide from the photographer... My hotel is literally around the corner. Nothing nefarious, I promise." You hold your hands up in surrender.

"Right," He clears his throat. "Of course, I knew that."

He fiddles with his mask, not so subtly checking the heat in the tips of his ears. Luckily for him, it's too dark for you to see how pink they've become.

This time he follows you, hanging back a little as you check around for anyone else hiding nearby. By the time you reach the lobby of the hotel, it seems he has become more comfortable with hanging out alone with you. You slide him a key as subtly as possible so you don't have to walk up together and risk being caught, then you hang back and purchase some snacks from the little store in the back of the lobby.

He is standing awkwardly in the middle of the room waiting for you when you enter. 

"Did you not want to make yourself comfy?" 

"The only option is the bed..." He points out.

You glance at the desk chair that is covered in all the stuff you'd pulled out of your backpack earlier. You scan the visible items, suddenly exceedingly glad your change of underwear was buried beneath somewhere. 

"Then sit on the bed... It's big enough for us both to sit with your modesty completely intact if that's what you are worried about." You joke, hoping it'll lighten the weird heavy atmosphere that had descended upon you both.

Thankfully, he seemed fine with the idea. He slid off his shoes and jumped onto the less rumpled-looking side of the bed. You throw the snacks towards him and join him on the opposite side. 

"Wanna watch TV?" You ask handing him the remote. 

He flicks to some superhero movie and opens a bag of snacks offering the first one to you. As the movie drones on and you both get a little bored he starts to ask you questions. 

You tell him all about your experience in the military so far: how it had been difficult to uproot your life, especially being older than most when they first leave home, how you miss your family, how it was one of the most eye-opening and wonderful experiences of your life (Even if it was also exceptionally shit at times.)

You asked him questions in return and he really started to open up.

He talked about his bandmates and how he missed them. How sleeping in the bunks was actually weirdly comfortable to him, reminding him of early idoldom. He also shared some insecurities, like wondering if his fame would wait for him and what it means if he doesn't exactly miss all of the aspects of it. Turns out he is quite a private person and being without cameras for the first time in ten years had really given him time to breathe.

Turns out that talking to an almost complete stranger in the early hours of the morning had both of you opening up more than you probably should've done. Still, you could tell he was holding back, a youth spent not knowing who to trust would probably do that to a person. His eyes were still filled with that lost expression, but he looked a little lighter for having talked about it. 

It's four AM by the time either of you suggests checking to see if the reporters are gone. Though neither of you actually moves to do so. He watches the credits roll on a movie you guys definitely didn't see a single scene of. You watch him. 

His eyebrows knit together, the way you've learnt they have when he is considering his options. 

"I don't think they will have gone." He admits. 

"We could see if there is another room available here?" You suggest.

He nods and picks up the phone from the bedside table. It's a brief conversation spoken in Korean a little too quickly for you to fully grasp but the consensus seems to be there's no room until after 11 am. 

Hoseok sighs defeated and begins to get up.

"Guess I'll just have to risk it." 

"Or you could stay? Isn't it going to be more suspicious to see you randomly leaving a hotel at this time in the morning than it would to leave at a reasonable hour?" You reason.

He grumbles and sits back down, running his hands down his face. 

"I don't want to interrupt your chance for alone time... And the fact that I'm already here is bad enough."

"But you're already here so you can't make it worse." you point out.

He smirks a little at that, knowing you're right. 

"Fine, I'll take the floor."

He picks up a pillow and dumps it unceremoniously at the foot of the bed. 

"Don't be stupid that can't be comfy..." You say

You take one of the other pillows you don't need and lay it down in the centre of the large bed.

"Look now there's a wall, might as well be two twin beds." You smile smugly.

He shakes his head but he is smiling and doesn't fight you. He grabs the other pillow back, adds it to yours in the middle and lies down on the bed. 

"Good night Hobi." You say testing the nickname.

"Good night Y/N-ah" He says turning out the light.

Ask Box - Please send me thirsty/funny/angsty bts thoughts

Masterlist

Summer Madness Masterlist

[snakebites-and-ink]

Chapter 4: First Days

Masterlist

CW: Institutionalized slavery, controlling environment/organization

Nolan groaned as his alarm sounded and the lights came on automatically. 7 am on the dot, like any other weekday morning here. He could still be ready in time if he slept a half hour later, but Westwater wanted him up at 7, so he woke up at 7 whether he liked it or not.

The first couple of mornings he had tossed a blanket over his head to try to block out the light, and his bunkmate had to pull it off, saying “they won’t like it if you’re not up when you’re supposed to be.”

This time he forced himself up on his own and tried to rub the bleariness from his eyes. The other guys were already up. They’d been here longer than Nolan so they were already adjusted to the schedule.

Nolan went and pulled out a uniform. He didn’t need to think about what he was wearing today, because it was always the same thing. Which was boring, but at least it was easy.

When he was washed and dressed, Nolan went down to the cafeteria and handed them his student card. The cafeteria was…weird. There was never a menu up, and everyone was given different things with no rhyme or reason that Nolan could discern. It didn’t seem to make a difference what window you got your food from, you just went to whichever line looked fastest. And apparently there was a rule against trading, as if they were still in elementary school where kids couldn’t be trusted not to feed each other allergens.

Nolan had never been served anything he particularly loved here, but he didn’t get anything he really disliked either, so he wasn’t complaining.

Tray in hand, Nolan joined a group that included Augustus and a handful of other people in their year. His other roommates weren’t there: they were in their second year, and everyone in Westwater seemed to socialize with people who’d been there a similar length of time to them.

Augustus was complaining to the others about a number of the training institution’s traits. He asked Nolan if he was wishing he hadn’t signed now that he was here.

Right now his only regret was that Westwater turned out to be a place run by morning people. “I just signed myself over, man. Give me a little time before I start stewing in regret,” Nolan said tiredly.

Augustus looked a bit disappointed, but dropped the issue and turned back to his food.

Classes were also kind of weird. It was like an odd hybrid between college and high school. Nearly everyone there was an adult, so a certain level of maturity was expected from them, but at the same time, they weren’t given as much autonomy as independent adults. Their schedules were determined for them, and missing a class was not tolerated without an excuse from one of the institution’s health professionals or other authorities.

Quiet time and a soft lights-out started at 10pm. The hard-enforced lights-out was at 11 so they could get a full 8 hours sleep before waking on time the next morning. Then it all started over again with the new day.

Taglist: @whumped-by-glitter, @catnykit, @scoundrelwithboba

[jeanie-g]

nicojack 12 or 31 🥺🥺🥺

sorry for the delay! but i didn't forget about you 🫶 kinda took liberties w the prompt BUT i had a lot of fun w it. also it kinda evolved past the bullet format lol. hope you like it!!

#12. "You can't tell anyone. Seriously. Even them."

Nico always loved summer camp. It's a place away from his parents (whom he loves, sure, but could be just a bit stifling), where he can make friends with other boys his age, and do manly things like camping and kayaking and peeing outdoors (the counselors always yelled at them for doing that last one, but a dare's a dare).

And this year, Nico's finally 12, which means he's finally graduated from the Mighty Mooseheads to the Daring Devils cabin. He knows it's just a title, that both cabins are pretty much the same size-wise and everything, but it's the principle: he's basically a man now. Hear him roar, or whatever devils do.

What nobody told Nico, though, is that among the four usual suspects of his bunk mates—Jonas, Akira, Timo, and Jesper—there's a new kid—one who's two years younger than the rest of them. Something about the camp overbooking and maxing out the Moosehead cabin, and the Devils one being the only building with an extra bed, but Nico doesn't care about logistics.

Whoever this kid is, he can't just up the ranks without paying his dues. Nico played by the rules; he served his nickel as a Moosehead—it's not fair that this kid gets to waltz in and just skip all that. He's 10, for Pete's sake! He's basically a toddler.

So, Nico doesn't hide his distaste when he walks through the door and spots a short boy with cropped brown hair arranging his stuff all over one of the beds by the windows. Nico smirks, an idea popping into his head.

"Hey," Nico says, and the boy nearly jumps right out of his skin.

He turns around, big, blue eyes bugging out in surprise. "Oh, hi."

"That's my bed," Nico states plainly, and it isn't—they can only claim beds when they get there, but the boy doesn't know that.

"Oh," he sputters, eyes bugging out further. "I'm sorry, I didn't see a name."

The boy starts to gather his things—a small knapsack bulging with contents, his pillow, and a blanket with some sports team logo splayed all over it—and in his haste, drops them all on the floor. He bends over to pick them up, muttering under his breath, and suddenly Nico feels a pang of guilt.

Memories pop up from several years ago, when the Devils at the time used to make fun of Nico and his friends—the time they stole a postcard mailed from his sister in Switzerland and tossed it right into the campfire, and Nico had to hold back his tears.

"Wait," Nico says before he can stop himself. "It's okay. You can have it."

"Really? Are you sure?" The boy asks. He sounds like he's begging for pennies in front of a rich man, and that makes Nico feel queasy. He doesn't have to like the kid, but he doesn't have to be cruel.

"Yeah. 'Course. Consider it a housewarming gift."

The boy flushes. "Thanks."

Nico picks the bed diagonal from the window, flopping onto it. The springs creak with age, and it fills Nico with nostalgia.

"I'm Nico," he announces, looking up at the ceiling. When he hears no reply, he sits up, leaning on his elbows. "This is the part where you say your name."

"Oh, right." The boy flushes deeper, if that's even possible. Nico distantly wonders how easily he sunburns.

"I'm Jack," he says. "I'm, uh, new. Obviously."

"Obviously," Nico parrots, but he offers a small smile.

Jack's shoulders relax ever so slightly as he smiles back. It's a nice smile, Nico notes. Friendly, and maybe he's not so bad after all.

⋆｡°✩

It's hard not to observe Jack over the first few days of camp. They're bunkmates, after all. Jack's an early riser, which is immediately at odds with the rest of the cabin, who are all night owls to their cores. Still, he's quiet as he moves about, always careful not to wake anyone up, which is smart.

But aside from their first conversation, Jack rarely talks. He's not trying too hard to make any friends, that's for sure, which Nico finds sort of counterproductive. They're at camp—it's the whole point to make friends. He sits alone in the mess hall, keeps to himself before bed or at group activities, and when they have downtime—instead of horsing around by the lake or sneaking into the kitchen to find the counselor's reserve of cookies—he's always reading.

And it's not anything cool like Ripley's Believe it or Not or Goosebumps. They're all these hockey books. Nico swears that's what took up that knapsack—all those books. Hockey's not even a cool sport, like baseball or soccer. One, they do it in the winter (and Nico hates the cold), and two, they do it on skates. There's nothing girlier than skating—well, maybe gymnastics.

But whatever. Jack's not bothering him, so he won't bother Jack, even if he does read girl books.

But there's only so long he can ignore him.

⋆｡°✩

It's a normal afternoon, two weeks into camp. Timo's doing that thing with the orange slice in his mouth that never gets old, when suddenly a voice rises up a few tables away.

"And what do you think you're doing, pipsqueak?"

And Nico'd recognize that voice from anywhere. He's one of the former Devils (now Brave Bears) who went after him and his friends. It's Taylor Hall, who was Nico's idol in his first year at camp. Too bad he's a prick.

Nico turns his head towards his voice, and his eyes grow when he sees Taylor crowding around Jack, who's holding out his meal tray in front of him, looking absolutely terrified.

"I'm—I'm sorry," Jack stutters, and it's then that Nico sees the turned over milk carton and the small stain on Taylor's shirt. They must have collided.

"This was my favorite shirt!" Taylor cries incredulously, obviously playing on Jack's fear and hamming it up for his audience.

And it works, as more and more heads turn towards the scene, and the chatter minimizes around them.

"I—I can get you a new one!" Jack tries, and a few tables laugh. Nico's eyebrows pinch, something unpleasant roiling in his stomach.

"I have a better idea," Taylor says, plucking the bowl of rice pudding off of Jack's tray, that sludge that the mess hall workers always put on their trays even though it tastes like sweaty socks. No one even eats it—everyone usually just puts it on their hands and waves them around to gross out the little kids—and Nico's eyes go wide.

He knows exactly what Taylor's going to do. He did the same thing to Akira years ago when he accidentally closed a door in Taylor's face. He was picking rice from his hair for days afterward.

Nico doesn't quite know where it comes from, but suddenly he's standing and shouting "Hey!" All the heads turn to him now. "Leave him alone!"

Taylor and Jack's heads turn last, and Nico feels their eyes on him like a spotlight.

Taylor's grin widens. "Oh, isn't it little Nico Hischier? Come to save your boyfriend, are you?"

Half the room snickers, and Nico flushes scarlet. He plows on.

"No, actually I wanted to join you."

Jack's face screws up in confusion and hurt, but Nico's got a plan.

Taylor laughs. "Really?"

Nico nods. "Yeah. We're bunkmates, and he's always waking us up for stupid stuff like Colors. It's time he got a little payback."

Jack quirks an eyebrow; they both know that's not true. Nico flashes him a quick look, and realization blooms on his face.

Taylor considers him for a moment, and then smirks. "Huh. Maybe you're less of a fairy than I thought you were." He holds up the bowl of pudding. "Care to do the honors?"

"Nico, what are you doing?!" Jesper whispers beside him, but Nico ignores him.

"I'd love to."

Nico slowly approaches and accepts the bowl of pudding. He holds it above Jack's head, but then he looks at Taylor.

"You know, it never felt like an insult when you called me a fairy or a nitwit, because you're the biggest airhead of all."

And in a flash, he throws the contents of the bowl in Taylor's face, and the mess hall lights up with raucous clamoring and laughter.

Taylor's face heats up like a tomato even under all the muck. Nico hears Jack let out a surprised laugh, and he realizes it's the first time he's ever heard him laugh. Nico turns to him and winks, and Jack smiles, confused but relieved and a little bit impressed.

"HISCHIER, YOU LITTLE—" Taylor roars, and Nico knows it's time to split. He grabs Jack's tray and drops it on a nearby table. Then he takes his hand and rushes him out of the mess hall, the cheering of half the tables acting like an orchestra as they push open the doors and run into the sunlight.

⋆｡°✩

Things change after that. And maybe it's because after the altercation in the mess hall, Nico sees a tiny bit of himself in Jack, or maybe he has a good streak he's not even aware of.

Anyways, Nico starts to go out of his way to talk to him or pair up for sports with him or eat meals with him, and Jack starts to open up in a way Nico didn't allow him before. And as they talk, Nico sees a whole new side to him. He's hilarious, first off, and wicked smart—probably because of all the books he reads. He's also obsessed with hockey, which Nico learns is a lot less girlish than he presumed. He had no idea, for one, that fighting wasn't just allowed, but encouraged! You can't do that in baseball.

Jack is easy to talk to, not like anyone Nico's ever been friends with. And he loves the boys, but they're just not like Jack. He pays attention; he observes, and though he's smart, he can still be pretty stupid—like the time he thought that if it was cloudy outside, you can still get sunburnt. He's also insanely competitive, if their intense games of Uno are anything to go by. The kid can be downright harsh if you cross him the wrong way.

Jack's also kind. He lets Nico go on and on with stories from home—how much he misses Switzerland ever since he moved to the States—smiling as Nico recounts the food and landscape. Jack's a great listener, and he remembers the things Nico tells him—even little things like his favorite color or ice cream flavor (purple and strawberry). He's a morning person, as aforementioned, which means he's basically useless once the clock hits 8pm. His favorite meal is pasta bolognese and his favorite movie is Air Bud, and he has two siblings, just like Nico does, except Jack's the middle child and Nico's the youngest.

The bottom line is, Nico loves being with Jack. Talking to him, listening to his stories, pranking the other boys in the cabin with him. They're very different, certainly—but on some basic level, they're the same. Curious young boys determined to find their place in this big, confusing world that seems to have had it out for them from the get-go.

⋆｡°✩

As the days and weeks go by, they find themselves staying up into the late hours of the night, giggling and being hushed by the other boys when they get too loud. (Nico's now conditioned him to stay up past ten.)

It's one of these nights where Nico realizes something.

"You know, I've never had a best friend before," he confides.

The both of them are eating Nutty Buddies under the covers of Jack's bed, flashlight sitting between them to illuminate their faces. They're alone in the cabin—the other boys out making s'mores with the counselors still—but there's something still nice in pitching a private little cave.

"Really?" Jack asks.

Nico shakes his head. "Nope. I have friends, of course, but I don't think I've ever had a best one."

Jack looks down, suddenly shy. "I don't have many friends back home. I mean, I try to make friends with the boys on my team, but they all pick on me because I'm too small to play hockey."

Something ugly settles in Nico's stomach at that. How many Taylors has Jack had to deal with?

Jack wipes his hand under his nose. "But I love playing. I just hope one day I get to prove them all wrong."

"How?"

Jack smiles, eyes lighting up. "Going 1st overall at the NHL Draft."

Nico frowns. "I...don't know what that means."

He's afraid he's going to hurt Jack's feelings, but then he does something unexpected: he laughs. He holds his stomach as he falls backwards on the bed, pulling the sheet with him.

"Hey!" Nico cries, but just as he's about to yank the sheet back over his head, his eye catches on something tucked under Jack's pillow.

"What's this?" He asks, already reaching for it.

"Huh?" Jack sounds from under the covers. And then, "Wait!"

But Nico's already tugging on the mystery object and dropping it in his lap, and it's—

"A stuffed penguin?" Nico lets out a joyous laugh as Jack untangles himself from the covers. "You still sleep with a stuffed animal? That's so—"

Nico smile drops the second he sees Jack's face. Even in the low light of the cabin, he can see the embarrassment on it, the shame. That ugly feeling in his stomach rears up again, except now it's aimed at himself.

"Cool," he quickly amends, turning the penguin around in his hands. "Penguins are cool."

Jack doesn't buy it, face screwing up in pestilence. "You can quit it, Nico. I know it's a baby thing."

"No it's not!" he cries, even though it very much is. "I have a stuffed dog at home; his name is Barkley."

Jack crosses his arms. "Yeah? And you still sleep with him?"

Nico smacks his lips. "Well, no. My mom actually sold him in a garage sale. But that's not the point!"

"Then what is the point?" Jack huffs.

"Just because you like kid things doesn't mean you're all kid."

"What does that even mean?"

Nico sighs. "It means... I don't care about all that when it's you."

And when Nico says it, he finds it's really true. If it was any other kid, he'd probably be running for the hills to go tattle on him, but there's something about Jack that makes him want to stay right here. Maybe that's what that feeling in the mess hall was. He wants to protect him.

"Really?" Jack asks, expression filled with hope.

"Yeah," Nico says, offering a smile.

A twig breaks outside, disrupting the moment.

"I've gotta hide him before the others come back," Jack says.

"The guys?"

"Yeah. I'll never hear the end of it." He looks at Nico with a spooky kind of seriousness. "You can't tell anyone," He warns. "Seriously. Even them. No—especially them."

Jack visibly shivers at the thought, and yeah, Nico can't argue with him there. He's never been the best at keeping things close to his chest—intentionally or not—but with Jack, he'll try his darnedest.

Nico holds up his pinky. "Your secret's safe with me."

Jack lets out a relieved breath, and twists his pinky around Nico's.

When they pull away, Nico picks the penguin back up and turns it over in his hands. "So, what's his name?"

Jack goes pink. "Sidney Crosby."

"Who's that?"

"He's...my favorite hockey player," he starts out nervously. "He's the captain of the Pittsburgh Penguins." As he continues, though, his excitement ramps up. "Me and my brothers—we met him once actually, after a game. I got a signed stick and everything—the one he used to score his hat trick! It was totally awesome."

Nico understood maybe 40% of any of what that meant, but he nods along like he does. Jack might as well be speaking Greek, but Nico can't hold back his smile at seeing the way Jack lights up like a Christmas tree talking about pucks and goals and stuff.

Jack eventually tires himself out, and he glances down at his digital watch. "We should probably go to sleep soon, huh?"

"Probably."

Nico hands Sidney Crosby over to Jack and climbs out of his bed.

"I'll see you in the morning then?" Jack asks, and Nico nods.

Except when he stands, Nico doesn't move to get back in his bed. He's suddenly so nervous, which is just crazy. Talk about the shoe on the other foot, or whatever.

"Are you okay?" Jack asks, and Nico says it before he can psych himself out.

"Do you wanna be my best friend?"

Surprise flickers across Jack's features for a couple of seconds before settling into a smile—one that reaches his whole face.

"Yeah. Do you wanna be mine?"

"Yeah," Nico replies. "I do."

"It's settled then."

Nico meets his smile, feeling that uncomfortable twinge in his stomach finally settle. He thinks back to when he first met Jack, timid and wide-eyed. He looks at him now, warm and smiley, swaddled in his blankets, penguin in his arms.

His best friend.

And yeah, whatever that backend error was that plopped Jack into the Devils cabin...

Nico's grateful for it.

[sweetlittlegingy]

So because this beautiful person, is feeling down, here’s something I’m making up on the fly that can go with Better Man Universe;

It was a lovely Sunday Morning in sunny San Diego. The lights were streaming in through the curtains. Natasha “Phoenix” Trace was currently curled around her favorite man. She snuggles closer into her husband, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. As the light gets stronger, she shifts and wakes up. “Mmm. Bradley. What time is it?” She asked as she shifted awake in his arms. It felt so good to let her hair out for the day.

Bradley let out a deep groan as he stirred to check the clock. “It’s 10:15 AM baby.” His voice was deep and husky of course. He chuckles and kissed her jaw before getting up of course. He wrapped a blanket around his waist and went to pee smiling. He looked at his wife and smiles. “Just as gorgeous as the day we met.” He cooed to her.

~flashback 4 years ago, Hawaii~

Bradley Bradshaw was sitting in a bar off the base in Hawaii. Being set back had taken a tool so he went to go grab a drink. After sitting at the bar he growls at the dark haired woman before he sighs. “I’m sorry for that behavior. I’m Bradley.” He said to her. “Natasha.” She replied and smiles politely at him. “You aren’t used to it yet are you?” She asked him. “Not really no. I got held back. But it’s not ok for me to dump my life story. I at least owe you dinner.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, sick of men hitting on her. But for once, the cheesy 70’s porn mustache and Hawaiian shirt kinda worked. He apologized to her and offered her food. Why not? He was cute. “You are on.” She smirks.

~flashback ends~

Bradley smiles as he looks at Natasha remembering how they met for the first time. He thought she was too hot for him and look what happened. When he saw his wife’s soft gaze, he smiles at her. “God I am so glad I met you when I did. You fixed me Tasha. And I’m thankful everyday.”

Natasha laughs and smiles. “I’m glad I could change your life my darling husband.” She smiles and also laughs as she drinks her coffee. “I’ll never regret ever saying yes to you. I love you Mr. Bradshaw.”

“And I you, Mrs. Bradshaw-Trace.” He smiles and leans forward kissing her. If only they knew that the ghosts of Carole and Nicholas Bradshaw were watching them. They were proud of their son and all he had, friends, family, and a love like theirs. That’s all they wanted. Today was a good day. One of the best Sundays to date.

#natasha trace X bradley bradshaw

My goodness, my sweet! Thank you so much. You've really been there for me these last couple of weeks and I can't thank you enough 🤍. This just adds to the list of sweet things you've done for me and I absolutely love it.

But have I ever mentioned how much I love "Better Man" Nat and Brad Brad. They are just adorable and I know not everyone likes them together, but in this series, they are fucking adorable. And the fact that you've added to their story 😍😙!

...

Okay, but not only is Brad upset by being set back a couple years, but he's at a new base in Hawai'i which should have been heaven. But the poor man was severely jet lagged and hadn't been able to get a good night's sleep during this first week.

His bunkmate snored horribly and that was on a good night, on a bad night the 20-something man talked in his sleep. While it had been funny the first and maybe second night, by the third Brad was over it and truthfully he had made his way to the beachside bar just so he didn't have to see the guy any sooner than absolutely necessary.

Now the fact that the bartender had slipped right on past Brad twice for the pretty little thing down on the far end of the bar, even after Brad vocally asked for another instead of the small tip of an empty beer bottle he usually had to do. Left him pushing off from his current position and heading over to her side of the bar.

The site of Brad's face must be grim as the bartender straightens up from his relaxed posture chatting up the woman. His elbow knocks against the poor girl's arm as he tightly demands the refill. His head dips only popping up at the sight of the woman shifting, gazing at him with a harsh look of distaste.

The sight of her watching him makes his cheeks flair and he can't help but to feel like an absolute dick. How had the first interaction he has with a beautiful woman in Hawai'i been on that he made himself look like a complete ass?

“I’m sorry for that behavior." His hand rakes through the unruly curls, before he gives her a sheepish smile. "I’m Bradley.”

She glance's from his eyes to his open awaiting palm, before sighing with a smile and settling her hand in his. “Natasha.” She replied and smiles politely at him.

She does a quick sweep of his figure taking in the pristine uniform and the tired look in his eyes could only mean one thing. A small laugh slips past her lips as she gives him a cheeky smile. “You aren’t used to it yet are you?”

Her tone is teasing and it takes her eyes flashing down to his wings before Bradley realizes just what she talking about. A small grin that's finally at ease settles on his face as she hides her smile behind the beer she sips on.

“Not really no. I got held back." His tone drops and he coughs lightly in hopes to not lose the flirty banter that had been passing between the pair.

"But it’s not ok for me to dump my life story." She nods in agreement, taking that cue that he was trying to lighten the conversation again.

"You most defiantly shouldn't be doing that," she smiles again at him her tone airy and before slipping the aviator glasses from the breast pocket of his shirt.

The sight of her cheekily grinning at him, has Brad moving that inch closer that causes Nat's head to dip back to follow his eyes. She leans into him slightly, hand settling on his chest as a smile laugh falls from her lips and causes her head to dip back even farther when Brad winks in the most exaggerated way.

His hand finds home against her cheek, and his thumb rubs against her cheek gently. Before popping the glasses off the bridge of her nose and settling them back on his.

"I at least owe you dinner.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, sick of men hitting on her, used to their hump-and-dump tactics. Though some about the one in front of her has her regular decision wavering. The cheeky grin that he gives her seals the deal and for once, the cheesy 70’s porn mustache with the faded Hawaiian shirt worked.

He was cute and he apologized to her. While adding on the offer her food. Why not? Even if he did turn out like the others, at least she was getting dinner out of it. “You are on.”

She smirks, slipping from the bar as she makes her leave. Bradley stumbles over his words momentarily watching as the woman he thought was gonna be it for him, leaves after she had just said yes to a date.

A small laugh falls from her as he gets more flustered, and her dress flares out around her as she turns. Though before she leaves, she gives him a final glance over the shoulder and a wink of her own. "Don't worry flyboy, you'll be seeing me sooner than you think."

...

Thank you so much for this babes! I really needed this and I just, thank you. You have a piece of my heart 🤍 (so do Nat and Brad now too!)

[daughter-of-melpomene]

For the faceclaim and fandom ask game: Ariana DeBose + M*A*S*H, please??

@dancingsunflowers-ocs ✨💛✨

Alexandra, you have officially contributed to the birth of an actual new OC that I’m gonna do something with, thank you so much!! <3

NAME: Sophia Ramos.

LOVE INTEREST: Father Francis Mulcahy.

SUMMARY: When Sophia had first signed up to be part of the USO, one of the many pretty girls singing and dancing on tiny stages to give the brave boys fighting in Korea some much-needed cheering up, she couldn't have imagined wanting to do anything else. After all, she'd been trying to get in as a chorus girl on Broadway for years, but as a poor kid from Washington Heights, she figured working in the USO would be the closest she could get. But when the Army sends out a call for more nurses for their M*A*S*H units, Sophia decides to do some good that doesn't involve singing the same old tired standards, putting the hours she'd spent watching her tía work as a nurse to good use by volunteering to become one herself. But nothing in the world could prepare her for what she experiences when she's assigned to the 4077th - two chaotic doctors who love nothing more than getting a rise out of their stuck-up bunkmate, a bumbling commanding officer who usually leaves his psychic clerk to run the camp, a corpsman whose taste in dresses is almost as good as hers... and a sweet chaplain with cute glasses and a sweet smile, who brightens up Sophia's world in ways she'd never imagined could be done.

OTHER INFO:

Yes, yes, I know, forgive me Father, for I have sinned... but it's Mulcahy!!

Anyways, Sophia only comes in at the start of season three and it there for the rest of the show, and I can only imagine that she'd be a fan fave (in the modern fandom, anyway), if she were canon.

She becomes besties with Margaret right away, to the shock of pretty much everyone; they enjoy talking about skin care routines and how stupid men can be together, and Sophia is often a buffer between Margaret and the other nurses when they disagree.

Also definitely besties with Klinger; they swap dresses and accessories all the time, since Sophia's always in one of her dresses when she doesn't have to be in uniform, and Sophia always sticks up for him when Frank gets on about him being "sick" or "a pervert".

Obviously she can Mulcahy keep their relationship very secret, and there's a lot of feeling bad about it on both sides, but they're honestly perfect for each other! They bring out the best in each other, and since Sophia is an asexual bean who nonetheless is used to men fawning over her and wanting to "have some fun" with her because of how she looks and dresses, it's really nice for her to be with someone who doesn't expect that at all.

send me a fandom + faceclaim and i'll make an oc!!

(Also gonna tag @eddysocs since she also has a Father Mulcahy OC!)