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angelfoxx · 8 months

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┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° “…US?”

…in which their feelings for you become apparent.

FEATURING: simon “ghost” riley, john “soap” mactavish, & keegan p russ I AM SALIVATING

WARNINGS: suggestive, but nothing nsfw. yet 😇 also so sorry i write k**gan’s name and i just get fucked up. i just can’t behave myself. so i lose my mind a little in his section eek

NOTES: excuse my rather small starting lineup; i’m still new to the game and all of its lore and i’d rather get to know the characters first rather than make horrible headcanons based off of their fanon interpretations. you know, like making a six foot ten war criminal dresses in a fucking executioner’s hood a little uwu baby

— SIMON “GHOST” RILEY.

✧ Everything I see on TikTok regarding this guy makes him seem like a fucking demon in the sheets. I really don’t get that vibe. Especially not at the start of a relationship.

✧ The first time you meet, he thinks you’re attractive. And then he pushes that thought aside, because he’s a soldier. He’s actively at work doing a high-risk, high-stress job. You’re attractive, yes, but he’s not going to pursue you. This is not the right time for that.

✧ Things develop after…like, a long ass time. And it’s not sexual in the start. It’s, like…you’re cleaning your gun down after a mission, and you get a clean rag thrown into your lap. You look up into those hollow soulless fucking eyes and Ghost just shrugs, not meeting your gaze but instead just vaguely gesturing at your gun. “Your rag’s dirty. You’re rubbin’ dirt int’a the thing.”

✧ It’s small things like that. Things that are helpful but always laced with a comment that could be considered sort of rude or abrasive. He doesn’t notice; he only realizes that he’s coming off as rude and probably pushing you away after he makes a comment on your form being lazy and Price, sort of quietly laughing, asks why he’s so insistent on snarking on you. He replies that mistakes like yours could get you hurt. Which, they could. But so could everyone else’s, and he doesn’t make comments about them. So…?

✧ Phase two of him trying to…hit on you? Exist with you? Who fucking knows. Anyways, he just stops talking. He’ll still throw you clean rags, but he won’t make a comment about how using a dirty rag is ruining your gun. He’ll still make a point out of sweeping fallen food and shit off of your spot at the table after you eat, but he doesn’t grumble and scoff at you not to waste anymore. He resorts to silent acts of service to the point where it gets annoying. He’s always quiet, but now he’s unnervingly quiet and honestly, is it still him if he doesn’t catch you for random things every now and then?

✧ The silent stage can go on forever, so a catalyst really saves you. The catalyst comes when a new recruit gets a little too aggressive; a small argument about your ability on the field turns into a minor brawl. Aforementioned brawl immediately ends when the recruit dares to put their hands on you and shove you and Ghost, like some six-foot-one demon cast from the pits of hell, appears behind you and gets very up close and personal with them. Asking what the hell they think they’re doing, asking if they think that’s a good way to have a team on the field, et cetera, et cetera. Basically, he makes the recruit feel like absolute shit. Oh, and he doesn’t look at you the entire time.

✧ So, obviously, now you have a weird situation at hand. You’re getting ready to go to sleep and everyone’s sort of looking at you funny, because there’s no reason for a fucking lieutenant to jump in and break up an argument like that—pulling people apart, sure, but not so suddenly and not so aggressively. The recruit hasn’t spoken to you. Ghost hasn’t spoken to you. So, anyways, you pay him a visit.

✧ You go down to say thanks, and for some fucking reason, the guy can’t take a compliment. Or gratitude. He says you were slower than the other recruit, that it’ll get you killed on the field, et cetera. He can’t just shut up and take the thanks.

“I’m telling you, I…I came down here to thank you, of all things. Can you cut the criticism one time and accept it?”

Ghost stiffens. It’s not a thousand-yard stare anymore. It’s just a wide, pissed-off glare. For a long minute, he’s silent. And then…

“Welcome.” His voice is grumpish. “Happy?”

“Sure.” You manage a little smile. It’s sort of funny; he can’t just take your thank you and drop it. “It’s improvement.”

Ghost nods once, albeit stiffly. “Okay.”

“…so, you gonna tell me why you did it?” You ask it as a joke. You aren’t dumb. You know he wants you gone. You’re expecting a harsh “get out” or something of the like. You aren’t expecting an answer.

“Disrespect makes ignorance. Ignorance makes casualties.” Oh. An actual real, reasonable answer. Surprising. Ghost himself seems a little surprised; he blinks owlishly again, and he doesn’t say anything else. He’s just a big guy standing in a little room with a skull mask on.

“Oh.” You swallow. “That’s…rational.”

“Were you expecting irrational?”

“No. I wasn’t expecting anything.” You scoff. “You’re not exactly chatty.”

“I don’t waste words.” Ghost’s eyes narrow. “I’m not dumb.”

“I didn’t call you dumb.” You shrug. “I’m just surprised you gave me an answer that wasn’t bitching at me.”

“I don’t bitch.”

“You do.”

“I’m not a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl, recruit. I don’t bitch.”

“Even Price thinks you bitch. At me, at least. All the time.”

✧ Price thinks he bitches at you? And he’d told you? Oh, no, no. Externally, Ghost is stiff and stoic. Internally, Ghost is shitting bricks. Price had told you that? Straight-up told you that? Oh, no. You and Price talk and he comes up in conversation? Oh, no, no, no.

✧ He addresses this with Price, obviously. Storms in all puffed-out and pissy and asks what the hell he’s doing gossiping about his soldiers and Price just sort of laughs him off, asking what he’s talking about and then why he’s so upset that he’s bringing up one of his best men to one of the recruits.

✧ Oh.

✧ Ghost swears up and down it’s not like that. He swears and he bangs the side of his hand on the table and he curses on his own heart that it’s not like that but the whole time Price is laughing because in all of the years that he’s known Simon, not once has Simon broken through Ghost. But now, he has. The stumbling over words, the defensive aggression, the way he’s pacing so furiously—oh, Simon Riley is melting down inside that big mask and it’s equal parts heartbreaking and hilarious.

✧ Cue Price becoming a wingman. Ghost swears he’ll kill him every time he puts you two together to spar or puts you two on cleanup duty or god fucking forbid you’re in the doghouse doing some foul task and Ghost has to watch you. God fucking damn the captain, because he knows Ghost will grumble and complain but with you, he’ll eventually stop that in favor of helping you. And it’s sort of heartwarming for him to do his nightly rounds and it’s all quiet but there’s voices coming out of the kitchen and he can hear Ghost in that gruff, grumbly tone telling you how to mop and you snidely telling him that if you can’t do it right, then maybe he should do it instead. And he objects, of course, and then within ten minutes Price watches Ghost’s shadow come up to yours and he hears the mop change hands.

✧ It takes you a long time to realize that you’re really being assigned to Ghost’s side for every fucking thing you do. It takes you an even longer time to realize that Price tends to pass by you two on occasion, and every time he does, he’s smiling. And it takes you a ridiculously long time to realize that Ghost isn’t always radiating heat; whenever he takes the mop from you or takes the gun you’re cleaning from you, whenever he finishes off a task that you’ve started, it’s not that he’s always that hot. It’s that, under that mask, he’s flushed.

✧ It takes you a very, very long time to realize that the legendary Ghost has taken an actual liking to you.

— JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH.

✧ Thank fucking god this guy is next. Slow burn ass Ghost makes me want to rip my eyes out. Just have passionate angry sex and talk about your feelings after. Christ.

✧ It’s not exactly a secret that the minute you arrived on base, you gained an admirer.

✧ Soap isn’t someone who rarely gets hooked on someone else. The guy’s a walking heart eyes emoji. The difference with you was that it wasn’t the kind of attraction that had him sweet-talking you over drinks that night.

✧ This was different. Rather than chase, Soap wanted to impress — and, well, he tried. He tried his fucking hardest. He tried so hard the other higher-ups noticed. How embarrassing.

✧ Every time you’re in the room, he somehow gets even chattier. His voice drops. If he’s working out, he starts loading weights onto the bar he’s using to an almost comical degree. He loses his fucking mind. It’s like he short circuits. Which is ridiculous, because he’s a fucking soldier. What the fuck is he doing trying to lift five hundred pounds on a Tuesday morning? Why is he freaking the fuck out?

✧ The thing is, right, is you’re not exactly hovering over the guy. You have your own agenda to adhere to and also, it would be really weird if you just started laying praises on him, so you go about your day as regular and poor Soap is left heartbroken and also achy-armed because you literally could not care less that he’s lifting double, triple his body weight.

✧ Literally every higher-up notices. They make jokes about it and he borders on threatening friendly fire. It’s just a little crush. That’s all it is. Yeah. And so when you’re all doing team sparring and you keep winning, he’s just watching you like a lovesick puppy because it’s just a little crush. That’s all.

✧ Price can’t have his soldiers slacking off. Of course not. He can’t have them getting lazy — so he orders Soap to go up against you. Because, you know, he seems out of it and you’re the best of the recruits, so you’ll go against someone better. Yeah. That’s why he calls him out.

✧ God bless the poor guy. He panics for like three seconds and then makes a very thickly-accented taunt about how it’s unfair to you to go up against him. You, of course, in the spirit of good fun, reply to his taunt and tell him to prove it.

✧ He goes into the circle with you. He goes into the circle with you and he fucking falls apart.

You’ve quickly learned that talking is Soap’s weakness. If his mouth is moving, his feet fall behind.

“Get enough sleep last night, MacTavish?” You dodge a flying fist. “You look a little sleepy.”

“Got plenty.” A wry grin crosses his face. “Don’t worry about my beauty sleep.”

“I have reason to. You need it.” You wrinkle your nose. “Bad.”

Soap’s jaw drops slightly, and — there! — he hesitates. Probably out of surprise, but it’s enough. Deftly, you lunge in at his knees, swipe them out, and…hm. Simple. Almost too easy, actually, to pin him.

Soap’s heart is pounding under your hand. His chest is flat against the ground, but you can feel it through his back, which is wild in and of itself. He grunts when his cheek hits the ground; he mumbles something akin to “bloody hell”, but you can’t quite make out the words.

Grinning, you sit back and kick your heel up against his neck, keeping his head pinned down. The cheering you receive mostly comes from recruits who are impressed with your skill.

The minority is higher-ups, exchanging amused glances. They seem awfully humored with the sight of one of their own being pinned so easily by a new recruit. Hmm…

✧ From that point on, Soap somehow manages to watch more of your sparring sessions. He usually just watches, rather than critique; if you ask, he’ll just say you certainly seem to be doing fine. If you ask for help, though, he’ll help you. Christ, he’ll help you. He’ll genuinely spend time assisting you on whatever is troubling you.

✧ Eventually, after a long training day, you decide to ask Soap to join you in the ring. You genuinely just want to see how you stack up to a “better” opponent; you’ve apparently pushed beating him to the side. Or you just want to do it again. He doesn’t think of that, though.

✧ He’ll come in (after teasing you just a bit) and he will spar with you, just giving you advice and pointers mid-action. He’s whipped, but he’s also still a trained soldier. He knows what he’s doing, and once he gets through the brain fog you seem to weigh down onto him, he is genuinely helpful.

✧ Still, after you’re both hot and panting and finished and resting on the sidelines, you have to ask him why he helps you so much. You have to ask if it’s because he thinks you’re lacking, or bad, or if it’s some sort of personal vendetta for that one time in front of the recruits and the higher-ups.

✧ Soap just laughs and, rather awkwardly, rubs at his neck. He avoids eye contact, and he bites his lip, and he tilts his head around before he dares answer you, tone sheepish. “Consider it a, ah, personal interest.”

— KEEGAN P RUSS.

✧ SHITS MYSELF VIOLENTLY. SO SORRY

✧ i love this fucking man so very much and i don’t know jack shit abt him because i need to play ghosts and get the first hand experience like I don’t want to spoil his character but I URRRGHHGGGGG

✧ imma try to do him justice but sorry if im missing on important lore

✧ He’s not as uptight as Ghost, but he’s not as whipped as Soap. He’s somewhere in the middle; he’s aware that you’re attractive but he does push it aside. He’s working. You’re working. He doesn’t have time for that, and it’s also a safety concern. He remembers what they did to Ajax, and god fucking forbid they try to pull that shit with anyone else to use as bait.

✧ When he’s at base, he’s busy. He’s devoted to his work and he doesn’t cut corners to chit-chat. The most social he’ll really get is at dinner; he’s the kind of person who will eat with the group, but rather than talk, he’ll really just listen. he’s me fr fr

✧ Getting to know Keegan is sort of awkward because he’s just not super outgoing. He’s attractive (if your radio is on and you don’t buckle at the knees the first time you hear his sexy deep pantywetting voice over the thing, are you even real?) and he’s got the whole mysterious quiet guy thing down, and yet when you approach him to try and strike up a conversation with a simple question (“So how was your day?”) he’s prone to just looking at you and raising a brow and answering sort of flatly. (“Same as every other one. What, did something happen?”)

✧ Most of your bonding actually occurs when it’s just the two of you. You’ve bumped into him late at night before — sometimes he’s at the range shooting targets and fiddling with a variety of weapons, or sometimes he’s in the kitchen scouring the shelves, or sometimes he’s in the gym working out when nobody is there to bother him and ogle his fine ass fucking body holy shit his thighs. He’s a little easier to talk to at night, actually. Maybe it’s the lack of a crowd, but the first time you stumble into him making himself a pot of fucking tea at damn near midnight, he actually seems friendly.

“What are you making?” For a moment, you panic, thinking that you might’ve just scared the shit out of poor Keegan by speaking so suddenly and from behind where he’s standing beside the sink, a little humming kettle in front of him. His shoulders god his fuckinf shoulders i want to lick them don’t so much as twitch, though — and then you remember the guy’s entire job is stealth and observation. Hell, he probably heard you across camp.

“Tea.” Yeah, he couldn’t sound less concerned. His voice is as low and gravelly as usual; he sounds a little more relaxed, actually, not so brash and shout-y. “Chamomile.”

“Sergeant Russ drinks chamomile tea?” You laugh a little, sort of tentatively. You two aren’t strangers, but you’ve only had a few conversations…if you can call brief exchanges conversations, of course.

“…yeah?” Keegan actually sounds confused; it’s dark in the kitchen, but you can make out the outline of his head turning over his shoulder. “What, you got a problem with that?”

“No. No, sir. No problem.” You shrug. “I just didn’t peg you to be the chamomile tea type.”

“Didn’t you?” The short scoffish bark Keegan lets out is a brief laugh. “What did you peg me for?”

“Dunno. Black, I guess.”

“Are you calling me boring?”

“No.”

Keegan hums in response to that. He busies himself with pouring his tea and thank fucking god your eyes have adjusted to the dim light in here because god, his fucking hip to waist ratio under that gear is something wicked and you let your conversation slip. You’re in here for a snack, but you don’t want to bother—

“You come in here for somethin’ other than staring?” Oh. Good. This is the Keegan you’d expected after hearing him sass half of his team on comms. You can hear the edge of a grin in his voice; there’s a shuffle as he turns around and then a wooden groan as he leans against the counter. A short second later, you hear the almost exaggerated slurp of tea.

“Crackers. I’m hungry.”

A wooden scrubbing sound. He’s moved over, presumably to let you open the cabinet housing boxes of sort of dry, not particularly good crackers. He doesn’t say a word; he just keeps drinking his tea and pretends to ignore you as you make your way over, crouching down to fumble for a bag of crackers. Pretend, because you can feel that he’s watching you. His presence on the field is invisible; his gaze in the kitchen is not. Still, he doesn’t bother you; he lets you get your crackers and retire to the edge of the counter across from him to snack, and he doesn’t say a word.

“Are you always so quiet?” You gesture vaguely at the slight shape of him. “Is it just part of the job?”

Keegan laughs, more to himself than in response to you. “Sure.”

✧ He is, generally, pretty quiet. His usual demeanor is laid-back and observant; if he’s not under stress, though, and you start talking to him, he’ll respond almost always with something mildly sarcastic. You come to learn that he isn’t actually boring. He’s got a quick sense of occasionally-dark humor. Sometimes he laughs at his own jokes—usually after he’s started to walk away from you. He’s fiercely protective of the Ghosts and any recruits training near or with them. He also doesn’t seem to mind you.

✧ You’d hesitate to say you two were friends — it always seemed like there was something in between you, though you couldn’t name what — but you were friendly, and it was nice.

✧ During group dinners, he’d stand against the wall behind you. Or across from you, though usually doing that meant that he’d make a game out of trying to get you to squirm under his constant staring. He’d run into you late-night in the kitchen and make casual, not uncomfortable, small talk. Hell, at one point he offered you a drink post-training and made a sort of point to always offer you one whenever you had returned to base and were lingering around in the later hours.

✧ After a particularly long day, you find him in the kitchen, just drinking straight from the bottle. He offers you the thing — he seems more than a little tipsy, but when you decline (he’s been drinking directly from it, and…the fuck does army hygiene look like?) he sort of half-laughs and says, sarcastically, “What d’you look so horrified for? Too good to share a bottle, princess?” and then he immediately excused himself afterward.

✧ You know that saying, “drunk words are sober thoughts”? Yeah. Yeah.

✧ i need the fatty part of keegans thigh in my mouth right now i need to bite it i need to bite it and go rrrrrahrhrahrah like a fucking rabid dog

#cod smut #cod x reader #call of duty smut #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod soap #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan x reader #IIIII NEED HIS HANDS IN MY MOUTH #IIIII NEED KEEGANS HANDS IN MY MOUTH NEEEEOWWW

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skylarsblue · 1 year

Note

this isn’t really a request or anythin’, just a thought. 141 havin to deal with a southern team member who only gets progressively more accented the more they get mad.

100% projecting here

pretty unaccented, American, whatever —> ✨ anger ✨ —> Memphis called they want their “oo-ol” back (translation: oil).

i have no idea if they’d be annoyed, charmed, or just confused.

✦141 + Los Vaqueros With A Southern!Teammate✦

(My first C.o.D request and it's for pEOPLE LIKE MEEEE, southern traassh! This my shit. Fair warning, I've never played one of these games cause I don't have a console, so if they're ooc, please tell me how I can improve writing them!)

✦Random headcanons, Southern slang, GN!Reader, Race neutral as well but American, implied to be Oklahoma/Texas style southern, aggressive cursing because I have the mouth of a sailor, a bit of Google Translated Spanish(forgive me), Rudy doesn't have a color cause I ran out I'm so sorry precious boy✦

✧Simon Riley✧

He's not real fond of Americans, admittedly. He's got a little voice in the back of his head that automatically associates Americans with betrayal, but he'll keep quiet.

He cringes at your accent at first. He's not fond of Americans, even less so of most American accents. It's a very thick drawl and after being in the team for a while, he'll tease you about it, telling you to "Speak English" like he does with Soap.

He shuts up when you bring up his Manchester accent being illegible sometimes. It's all in good fun though!

After proving you're trustworthy, he'll basically call you his "special American", to show you're an exception. He will never stop poking fun at you though, just as you do to him. Particularly when you say something intensely American.

"Look at her ass, out here pitchin' a bitch fit with a tail on it." "...What in the hell is that even supposed to mean?"

He'll give you one thing, you treat beef well, which he appreciates. Given he used to be a butcher's apprentice. Americans from the southern states know how to make a hamburger and we know how to cook a steak, that's like...the one thing we can brag about.

If you're like me and you dunk on your own country, he thinks those moments are really funny. Especially when you sound so American.

He probably enjoys you being angry the most. He loves it so much, he thinks it's extremely entertaining. Especially if you're a more small, non-intimidating person on the surface.

"Fuck off! Out here makin' a damn mess of the place, runnin' around like a chicken with its head cut off, wrecking my shit! I outta whoop yer ass!" "Should we step in?" "No no, let it go on a little longer..."

Probably tries to make your call sign something heavily American stereotypical, in a funny way. (ie. Bald Eagle, Stars(JILL!), Shotgun, etc.)

A bit hypocritical but if you have a farm with cows on it, he doesn't really wanna see them. His first thought his how to butcher them from years of training, and if they're not butcher cows, he feels kinda bad for thinking it.

Congrats! You're the only American Simon likes, aside from maybe Alex but I don't know for sure.

✧Johnny MacTavish✧

Laughs when you first speak. He apologizes but like, he laughs at you, I'm sorry.

Definitely asks if you have a cowboy hat, and he will lose his fucking mind if you do. The more cowboy shit you own the more he's entertained, especially if you wear them around base/on field.

He understands you super well but no one understands how or why. Johnny explains that it's just because he's good with accents. He'll hear weird euphemisms and, though it may take a second, 9 times out of 10 he'll get it.

"Fucker's so cheap I bet he pinches quarters til they scream." "What?! What does that mean!?" "Means he's a penny pincher! He's cheap. C'mon, that one was obvious, keep up, yeah?"

If you're a woman/female leaning, he'll call you cowgirl. If you're male/male leaning, you get the nickname cowboy. Non-binary/Genderfluid/Etc.? He calls you partner, and he'll always say it with a shitty imitation of your accent.

Asks you a buncha questions about American-Southern stereotypes to see if they're true. If they are, he gets really giggly about it.

If they ever have a mission in America, he'll insist you lead them everywhere. He likes seeing how you interact with people, especially if you're in a big city where some nutsos are. This man would have a blast watching you in a Waffle House. It's the only time he likes seeing you yell in public, thinks it's hilarious.

If you have any farm experience he's gotta see it. He needs to. I don't care if the farm is your great grandpa's and you haven't been there in a decade, you better take him to see the cows and tractors right now, immediately. Especially if there are chickens. He loves chickens.

He makes fun of your accent but he thinks it's really hot sometimes and he's very annoyed at himself for it. Particularly when you speak softly, trying to console/comfort him, slipping in a typical southern pet name.

"You alright there, sugar? Took quite a hit there. You need anythin', sweetheart?" "...I uh, uhm, ahem. N-no, no I'm alright." "Are ya sure, sweetpea? Your face is goin' redder than a tomato."" NO, I'M GOOD."

Manages to get the entire team to call you a southern callsign, whether you like it or not. He'll force it to stick. Most are animal-based too. (Cowboy/Cowgirl, Chick/Rooster, Bull/Heffer, Big Tex, etc.)

Your accent grows on him significantly. While he thinks you're very sexy when you're angry, he's really affected when you're soft and sweet. (bonus note; if you're faux sweet when you're mad? The whole "Oh...bless your heart" type thing? He's prolly gonna pop a boner, not gonna lie.)

✧John Price✧

He's not American but there are a lot of American things he likes, admittedly. Specifically, old western stuff, horses, ranches, etc. That whole aesthetic is something he's always enjoyed. He won't say it, but he has a particular fondness for your accent when he first hears it.

Doesn't understand you when your accent gets super thick but he thinks it's entertaining nevertheless. Unlike Ghost or Soap, he doesn't comment on it, because he doesn't think he has room to talk. Maybe he'd do it once and then you'd throw it back at him and he'd realize that...yeah he has no room to talk.

He's a calm individual but he will yell when necessary. But, what he finds admirable is when you jump in and yell for him. Like you can read his mind and he can save his throat, watching the people who were pissing him off jump back at thick southern curses being yelled at them.

"I outta jerk a damn knot in your fuckin' tail, ya fuckin' dumbass! Didn't ya momma ever teach you respect?! You ain't ever gonna talk to my damn captain like that again or I'll skin yer fuckin' hide!" "Ahem, thank you, sergeant, that's enough."

Buys you a cowboy hat if you don't already have one, for sure. Whether you take it as a genuine gift or you take it as a light jab at your roots, he'll get a lil' dopey smile if you decide to wear it. Gaz definitely makes fun of you two. Soap points out that Gaz also wears a hat religiously and he & Ghost start callin' you the hat trio.

Man melts at southern-drawl-spoken pet names. He truly does. Much like Soap, there's something about it that makes the tension leaves his body, though he's not really sure why.

"You alright there, Cap? You're lookin' bout ready to drop..." "I'm alright soldier, just need to finish this." "Captain, it'll be there in the mornin'. How bout a nap instead, huh? You can't go workin' yourself to the bone, hun. It ain't healthy."" ...oh alright, just for a bit though." "Sure, sugarcube, just long enough to have some tea."

He'll probably pick up on a few pet names and call you them. Whether you wanna take it as platonic or not, it's really just a sweet gesture that he wants to return. Pet names are kinda just...a staple of southern slang. It's part of the accent that he really enjoys, therefore he wants to return it.

If he ends up helping you with a call sign, it's going to be a really sweet & nice one. Or perhaps something that's from an old western he's seen. Probably based on something you've said before. (Sugarcube, Lasso, Hun/Hunny.) Bonus points if you get a super sweet name that doesn't match your stature, he thinks it's funny if it throws people off.

Piggybacking off the last one, I think it'd be real funny if your call name was "Sugarcube" and you're like...a 6'0"+ buff dude with a deep voice. That shit would be funny. Anyway!

If you own/live on a ranch or farm in your off time, he'll feel honored if you invite him to see it. Don't worry, he won't laze around and just appreciate the cute animals. (Looking at you Soap) He's got a little bit of experience with cows & horses, so he'll do his best to help you move the hay and such. Don't let him drive a tractor though, it's one of the few things he just can't do.

John doesn't play favorites, he's fair and precise to his entire team. But...off the field? ...you might get a little favoritism, he's got a weakness for bein' sweettalked through southern drawl. Don't let that go to your head though!

✧Kyle Garrick✧

Kyle doesn't care too much, he thinks every country has shitty stuff and cool stuff. He's a pretty big believer in silver linings. While America is far from his favorite country, and he knows the common trope of uh...less than tolerant people from the south, that doesn't affect how he sees you at all.

He does snicker at your accent sometimes, but only when you say something really aggressively southern. Especially making up random southern phrases that he doesn't understand at all. He finds it endearing.

"We just gotta haul ass and go tear shit up, run through like a buncha Tasmanian devils, right?" "...I understood...some of those words. Uh, sure, right." "We need to move our asses and fuck shit up." "Ah, okay. Could've just said that, but alright."

Thinks you're kinda scary when you're mad. He'll be the type to try and calm you down, but he understands if it's someone who deserves it. Not that he doesn't find your drawl fun to listen too, especially if someone was being an ass, but he doesn't like seeing you upset.

If the person you're yelling at was being a real big ass, he'll let you yell for a little, but step in. However, if you're doing condescending rage? Oh, go for it, do it all you want. He thinks it's hilarious.

Finds it particularly sweet if you're angry on the teams/his behalf. He can fight his own battles but he thinks it's a big sign of trust, friendship, etc. that you feel the need to defend him.

"Bless your heart, your brain ain't firing off on all cylinders is it, hun? Tsk, that's a shame..." "Excuse me?!" "You're excused, sweetpea. You're not gonna talk to my team that way, but you can turn your happy ass around and walk away. I ain't gonna have you disrespectin' the people who've been fightin' the good fight. Have a lovely day!" "How can you sound so sweet and yet so angry at the same time?" "Southern livin', sugar. Southern livin'."

Gaz is a bit of a foodie type, he likes trying cooking from any area he can go to. Southern cooking would...it'd be a new weakness for sure. A lot of it is unhealthy, yes, but he doesn't give a shit. It tastes good. Sometimes he thinks American food is an absolute sin and a disgrace, and he'll state it as such. Usually, it's stuff you agree on. Like bacon-covered donuts or fried butter. That shit's egregious. But things like southern-style chicken or rib-eye on a grill? You're gonna make him swoon with them roasted vegetables. Cooking for him is a surefire way to make you an unapologetic favorite in his book.

He won't say anything at the little jokes that people jab at you for your accent, but he will tell someone off if they say something that's clearly not funny and upsets you. Like trying to imply you're stupid because you come from Texas. (Speaking from personal experience) He thinks it's such a dumb thing to give someone shit over and he won't hesitate to say they're an idiot for trying to use it against you.

Hates sweet tea, I'm sorry. It's just tea but he can't stand it. He'll drink the unsweetened tea you make, but he'll make a dramatic face if he mixes them up. Something that you always laugh at.

He's great at driving basically any vehicle. Helicopters to mini coopers. He's never controlled a tractor before, but if you sit him in one and tell him the levers, it'll take him like...three minutes to get it down perfectly. Definitely gets a smug ass grin if you show you're amazed.

If he helps get you your call sign, he won't necessarily make it based on where you're from, it'll probably be based on a nickname, skill, or crucial event in your career. (Crash; you were thrown through a window, Hotshot; skill for sniping, etc.) But if he were to have one based on your southern ways? Sweet Tea, both for the fact you make it and the pet name you sometimes call him. (sweet pea)

✧Alejandro Vargas✧

Like Ghost, he's not super fond of Americans. His experience with most Americans are annoying tourists and Graves, leaves a pretty bad impression. He comes across unintentionally snappy when he first meets you, but Rudy will point it out, and he'll correct himself.

You aren't the annoying people he's dealt with and he knows it's not fair to say you are. Definitely talks shit on America though, and he'll honestly give you respect if you do the same. Since he's used to the kind of Americans that think being American give them a right to treat others like shit. He hates entitlement.

If you speak Spanish, he's gonna try really hard to not laugh at how your accent affects some words, but it's really hard. He means it in kind and if you're still learning when you meet him, he's proud when he hears you doing well in comprehension and sentences. Still, sounds just a lil silly.

He loves when your accent gets thick from rage, but he his favorite thing is if you speak Spanish in a rage, with your accent on top of it. It's a combination that fills his brain with serotonin.

"Eres un maldito idiota. ¡Tan útil como las tetas de un toro!" "Wha- Haha! What does that mean?!" "Did they say some super weird analogy?" "Si! They did!" "Yeaaah, they do that a lot."

He's notorious for having a naturally flirty personality, it's just how he's always been. Hence why not much phases him, but he does get a quite wide & genuine grin if you flirt back, making your accent extra intense. Especially with the pet names, another man who likes sweet words.

Thinks you having a southern call sign is really cute, especially if it's something your team calls you exclusively. He thinks it shows your endearment to your team. However, if your call sign is something you insist is only for friends, he'll get super giddy about being allowed to call you it.

If he were to pick? (Belle; Like southern belle whether you're fem! or not, Rodeo, and he might call you Americano- but like, in the coffee way. Like it's a sweet nickname, not just him saying your nationality)

Southern hospitality is something he is not used to. Again, bad experience with Americans. So if you explain all the various manners and nice gestures that are considered expected in your home state? He's completely confused, wondering why the Americans he's met don't keep that attitude up when they leave home.

Again, really likes it if you use southern pet names. Especially if you're trying to console him after a really tough day/mission. For some reason it really helps, like a cup of warm coffee on a cold morning.

"Aye, don't stress yourself over it, darlin'. Bad things happen that we can't control, you did everything you could and you were great at it. Don't let it eat at'cha, honey-bun." "Gracias, Bella. Lo necesitaba…" "Anytime, big guy. Now, you wanna see me try and fail again to open a de la Rosa without breaking it?" "Aha! How about I show you a trick to do it instead?"

Again, like Ghost, you're his special American. Gaz calls you his emotional-support American once and he thinks it's really funny, he'll call you as such every now and then.

✧Rodolfo Parra✧

Sweet darling man. He has nothing against you being American, nothing. But...he cannot understand anything you're saying. He's doing his best but he really doesn't know. He can feel his brain frying every time you bring up something super southern, trying to understand.

He'll have to lean over to your team to ask for a translation, anyone but Soap & Price will tack on an "I think, I'm not sure" at the end of their explanation. If he hears you use a phrase more than once, he'll add it to a little list of notes with the translation underneath it. Treats it like a whole different language. It's adorable.

Like Alejandro, he thinks it's funny if you speak Spanish with your accent. He'll keep a straight face because he knows you can't help it, but man is it fun to hear.

He's not very fond of a lot of yelling if he can avoid it, Rudy prefers disputes to be handled with calm words if possible. But he understands that sometimes it's necessary. Still, he'd want to try and calm you down if you're yelling. But, if you're just acting sickeningly-sweet, kind words that are clearly dripping with venom? He'll just watch. He thinks that shows you handle yourself very well and it's pretty attractive to him, not gonna lie.

"Awww I'm so sorry you're upset, poor thing. God bless you, sir, you have a lovely day. I hope that stick up your ass doesn't hurt too bad." "¡Soldado! No digas eso…" "Shh, sugar, it's fine. He wants to be rude, I can be rude back. An eye for an eye. Don't worry your pretty lil' head bout it, sweetheart." "Dios, a veces me asombras y me aterrorizas."

He's really hesitant about American food. It smells great sometimes but all he hears about American food is that it's greasy, or too salty, etc. Still, he won't deny any meal you make. He thinks it's rude to deny food unless it's something you're allergic to.

He ends up liking a few things, but he is biased to his home cooking. But if you start making his favorite foods, or somehow combine the styles in an honoring way? Oh, those are his favorites. He's particularly fond of American sweets though!

Please bake for this man, bake for him, I beg. Apple pie is an American staple for a reason and he'll jokingly claim he'll move to America if it means he can have apple pie every day.

"Rudy, that's your fourth piece! Ahaha, if I knew you liked it so much I woulda made ya more." "Ay, please do! ¡Fue enviado desde el cielo!" "Alright then, hun, I'll be sure to make you all the apple pie ya want."

Rudy really likes if you wear stuff like a cowboy hat. He's not really sure why, he just thinks it's really cute. If it's a staple of your whole look(like John's hat), seeing you protective over it, he thinks that's really cute. If you're protective of your cowboy hat but let him hold it/put it on his head to hold it, it's gonna fluster him. Even if your guy's relationship is completely platonic.

If you live near the border of Texas & Mexico, it makes visiting you pretty easy, so he'll have no qualms about going back and forth when off duty. He'll be more comfortable in his home but he won't turn down the offer to see your home, especially if it's a ranch. He's got a soft spot for farm animals. (Particularly goats)

If he has any control of how you choose your call sign, he'll likely pick something the same way Gaz does. But, if you have a thing about what certain people call you - like how only Ghost can call Soap "Johnny" - He feels really warm and fuzzy if he gets a special privilege.

(Translations; "Eres un maldito idiota. ¡Tan útil como las tetas de un toro!" - "You're a fucking idiot - as useful as a bull's tits/about as useful as tits on a bull!" "Gracias, Bella. Lo necesitaba…" - "Thank you, bella/beauty. I needed it." "¡Soldado! No digas eso…" - "Soldier! You can't say that..." "Dios, a veces me asombras y me aterrorizas." - "God, sometimes you amaze and terrify me." "¡Fue enviado desde el cielo!" - "It was sent from heaven!")

#call of duty mwii #call of duty x reader #call of duty #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #rodolfo x reader

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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 1 year

Text

Wild Horses

Part 4

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Doctor!Reader, other characters x reader

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

A/N: I hope y’all like this chapter and I apologize if it took long! Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated, I love hearing y’alls thoughts. Don't be afraid to stop by and say hi and if there are any ideas you guys would like to have in this story, just let me know! And as always, I hope you lovelies have a beautiful day! 💜💜💜 Also I apologize if some of the tags don't go through, I make sure to add each and every one of you lovelies but the tagging system here sucks ass.

Story Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.

Chapter Summary: 🎶Don't be suspicious.🎶

Warnings and notes: language, violence, blood and gore, fluff, angst, slow-burn, mentions of sexual themes

(Quick Disclaimer: I am not a doctor nor have any professional knowledge or experience involving surgical procedures. I am just a student studying in the medical field who has just started taking courses that are more degree-related. So I apologize if some of the stuff may be inaccurate.)

🍂Simon Riley. Simon MOTHERFUCKING Riley. The only man to exist that has managed to accomplish aggravating you in every possible way imaginable. For a woman known to have a great deal of patience, he sure as hell didn’t even need to lift a finger to break that record. Might as well put him in the Guinness Book of World Records for ‘The Most Stubborn Asshole Man Alive’ because you’re pretty sure if you looked up the words stubborn and asshole in a dictionary, his face would pop up.

🍂All you did was help stitch him up from a gunshot wound that could’ve gone way south if not done correctly. And when you tell him to come to you if he has any injures or illnesses because you want to help him, what does he do? What does this asshole of a man do? Insults you! Right to your face! I mean sure it wasn’t a direct insult nor were any of his words particularly insulting, but it was still rude and it offended you.

🍂“Meh don’ bother. I’m a big tough dummy and I eat rocks and tea for breakfast. I don’ need your help.” You mock with a shake of your head and a widened stance, mimicking both the voice and stature of the masked English soldier. The little ‘altercation’ had left you nearly fuming, pushing you to go outside to get some of that chilly night air in order to cool off. “I bet you use Gorilla Glue on all your wounds and call it a day.” You scoff, returning to your original posture. You better pray Ghost isn't lurking around somewhere unless you want your ass beat.

🍂Your dad had always taught you kindness and patience, being the down-to-earth soul he was, but boy was this man absolutely testing the everlasting shit out of you. You almost had to mutter out a small apology in your father’s honor for the obscene and colorful language that fell from your lips. But the more you thought about the absolute 6'4 idiot of a man, the more you became frustrated over it. All that body mass and not a single ounce of a brain. How he has managed to come this far without dying of an infection, you have no clue.

“Hope you like that fucking sour apple Dum-Dum you lollipop thief. You’re lucky I don’t dye your stupid mask pink.” You don't know what came in you in that heated moment but next thing you know you were practically planning your funeral and writing a will of your inheritance for your cat back home. Because if there's one thing you shouldn't do, it's kicking a random metal can just lying around on the street. Let's just say you were fucked because the sound that came out of you was equivalent to the screeching of a dying narwhal. The way the throbbing in your big toe had you clutching the wall and wheezing like a fish reeled right out of the water begging the creator for mercy was enough to produce some sweat out of you. And just your luck, as if the night couldn’t get any worse, Price had heard the noise and went to investigate it. Shouldn't this man have better things to do?

The face you pulled would have risen some concern from your colleagues back at the hospital in the states, a widened smile and pain-filled eyes, and you can’t help but to thank the poorly lit lamp streets for obstructing it. You swear you feel like your head is about to explode from the way you tried to keep it all together. But as Price asked if you were alright, looking over your stiffened and awkward stance, one hand out on the wall and your injured foot crossed over the other, all you could do was nod frantically and let out a wheezed ‘Yup. Finer than frog hair split four ways’. You pray that he doesn’t think you’re constipated or something from the strain in your voice. Coward. I would have faked a fall and had him carry me over the threshold.

Price of course doesn’t get American lingo and has no clue what the fuck you just said but takes it as a yes. Just you wait till he goes back in and tells the others what he heard. The man practically opens up the computer and searches up the phrase that you uttered just to find the meaning, all while the others crowd around. And after scrolling through a bunch of different articles involving different American slang, they collectively decide to learn a bunch of them in order to communicate with you. I lied. Because literally from this day forth, they randomly spit out different words and phrases just to tease your American accent. Actually Soap is the only one who does that………….just Soap.

Anyways……..

When Price finally closes the door behind him, you’re back to gritting your teeth and cursing at the pain in your toe and blaming it for your misfortunes, waiting a couple minutes so as to not run into the captain or the others before hurrying limping back into the building and into your room.

What did I tell ya. Should have just asked for Price to carry you back.

After inspecting your toe as what felt to be broken, you were glad to find out that it was just a grade 1 sprain. As painful as it was, for a successful recovery all it needed was some ice, taping, drugs, and a lot of rest. Rest......right. Like you were gonna get any of that.

Should've just reported it to Price.

Guess you can add one more injury to your list of things that are in the process of healing. The men come back from the mission bloodied and bruised with gunshot wounds, and you…….well you sprain your toe from trying to kick a can of beans or whatever the hell that stupid metal cylinder was filled with.

As if you weren't stressed enough before. Now you had to worry about hiding this tiny injury from the rest of the team to prevent them worrying about you. Also because you don’t want them to start asking questions about how it happened in the first place and find out that a can of beans was the culprit behind it. Hm, sounds a lot like someone else.

When you finally laid in bed that night, drugged out on melatonin and pain killers and wearing an oversized tee and a pair of shorts, you couldn’t stop drumming your fingers against your stomach, your injured foot propped up on a pillow with your big toe wrapped and taped up looking like you borrowed Fred Flintstone’s foot. Now just how were you going to hide that? It’s not like you can just grab a pair of those circus clown shoes or an orthopedic boot or some crutches and hope no one notices. And while you stared up at the ceiling, the drumming of your fingers coming to a stop as you contemplated on the idea while waiting to crash out from the melatonin you took, there is only one thing left that came to mind. So, in one swift motion, you grab the spare pillow closest to you and scream into it. A really long, really shrill scream that would have put the banshees to shame. Yup. You can now say you had officially reached your breaking point.

And what happens when you’re stressed? You have strange dreams, like really strange dreams. I’m talking weird vivid outlandish shit that feel too real kind of dreams. Because when you wake up the next morning, sweat beaded at your forehead, you can only think about the very explicit dream you had last night. The one involving you and the team and a series of very……………how can I say this, rated porn shit. It all felt real, too fucking real, because when you move your legs over to hang off the side of the bed, there’s a tenderness there and well………….everything else that comes with it.

“Yo what the actual fucking shit.” You groan, resting your elbows onto your thighs as you shove your face into your hands and rub at your forehead and cheeks.

How the hell were you going to face the team after waking up from something like that? You could almost paint a picture of the entire sequence as if it just happened, and boy was the image going to be burned into the back of your mind like the searing of a branding iron.

You were embarrassed just thinking about it. Every time you closed your eyes, you were reminded of the way their hands and lips roamed every inch of your body, the way their skin almost burned against yours, the stubble of their facial hair grazing against the sensitive skin that lined your inner thighs and the wetness of their tongues, the sounds of their low grunts and moans that escaped from deep within their chests that mingled with your soft ones as their heated breaths fanned your neck, the sharp smell of metal that paired with the rhythmic swaying of their dog tags as they dangled above you with each movement, and the pulling sensation in the pit of your stomach after reaching your high with each of them.

And then there was Ghost, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, the way he looked you over with disgust while you were on your back when each of them hovered over you. And when he finally stood in front of you, when there seemed to be no one else, glaring down at you from under that mask of his, and uttering one single phrase, 'you harlot of a tart', you woke up. Typical ole Ghost. An asshole in reality and an asshole in dreams.

You needed air, a shower, and a change of clothes, desperately. Price had given you the day off when you finished patching the men up last night. And that is exactly what you were going to do. But first you needed to clean yourself up, preferably with holy water if there was any, and then........well...you needed to get out of this building and get some fresh air because what in the 60s psychedelic orgy was that.

Lazily getting up from your bed, you quickly tie your tangled hair up in a simple bun and slide on a pair of slippers over your fuzzy socks, throwing on your plush Grogu and Mandalorian patterned robe over your sleeping clothes and pulling the hood of your robe over your head to provide extra warmth. Today was a much needed day off after the shit storm that was yesterday. As part of your regular morning routine on the days you didn't work, you grab your other mug that you finally found after rummaging through your things; the one shaped like the head of Kermit the Frog and decide to make yourself a cup of coffee to wake yourself up first and foremost.

Making sure to balance your weight on your uninjured foot, you wobble over to the kitchen, your empty mug in hand and your bottle of pain pills in the other that rattled slightly every time you dragged your feet across the floor. Your eyes tear up as you let out a long and dragged out yawn, squinting in the process which prevents you from seeing just what you were walking into as you place your mug on the countertop with a high-pithed clink.

If you thought today was going to have some mercy on your poor soul........................well you're wrong. Because while you have your back turned to the dining table behind you as you try to start up the coffee machine, you had forgotten that the thing was still broken in the first place, and also the fact that you live with five, now six, other men, and their eyes were now all on you. Girl if you don't turn your ass around-

"Mornin-"

"Sweet baby Jesus!" You nearly jump a foot into the air, spinning around in a frenzy with a wild look to see that the whole crew had been at the dining table the entire time and that you weren’t the only one scared out of their wits.

Did you just say ‘sweet baby Jesus?’ They haven’t heard that one before.

You stare wide-eyed in fright at the men seated at the table, your hair a mess and your heart so close to bursting out of your ribcage you swear you'd have to chase after it as you clutch the counter behind you.

There is an obvious awkward silence in the air as everyone stares at the inharmonious mess that is you and your startled state, curiously eyeing the large Grogu ears that were attached to the sides of the hood of your Star Wars plush robe and your bare calves that peeked out from underneath the hem down to your fuzzy socks that had cats all over it. You're practically following their eyes as they look over to your bottle of pills and your Kermit mug on the counter beside you before looking back at you. Oh to be able to read what went through their heads.

Despite your clashing wardrobe that made him question your taste in attire, there was one thing Ghost had focused on more, one that was obvious to those who knew it, a dainty tattoo of the unmistakable silhouette of a rose along the side of your calf. Was that the same rose off of Depeche Mode's 'Violator' album cover? It sure was, because right in the center of the stem where the rose was cut off, were the words 'violator' in cursive. Be still his heart. Is this man planning a proposal and your entire wedding? He was almost curious to find out what other bands or artists you listened to. Maybe he'll sneak a peek at your playlist-

"Howdy! You eh...........ya look worn slap out......I reckon." Soap smiles, trying to mimic the southern American accent but failing miserably, which only earns a round of groans of agitation at the table as the team roll their eyes. All but König of course, he's just as clueless as you are. He wasn't there when the team were searching up American slang.

You-what? The hell is this man on about?

"Jesus-" Price rolls his eyes at Soap's antics as he goes to take a sip of his coffee.

"......................" You're still mute. Your eyes dart between each of them, your thoughts only replaying the pornographic images of your dream as this sudden irrational fear begins to develop that they might be able to get a glimpse of your thoughts. Make a run for it-

"................Ye awright there wee lass? Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally." Soap's smile drops.

You're lookin a bit what?

"Mate, shut up." Gaz whispers to Soap after noticing your disconcerted expression. It was making him nervous, no doubt, and the fact that you weren't saying anything only made it worse.

The whole team were practically waiting for you to say something, but all you could do was stare. Girl either you say something or just take your clothes off and let them have you right then and there on the dining table, bandaged toe and everything if your dream distracts you that much-

"Guten morgen schatz (good morning love)." König sent a wave in your direction to try to ease the tension only to drop his hand back down after seeing that you did not respond. Poor dude is worried you’ve fallen ill and is practically sitting on the edge of his seat, analyzing every detail of your body language and ready to leap to your rescue in case you show any signs of falling unconscious.

Even Ghost couldn't stop the annoyed sigh/huff that escaped, shaking his head at the uncomfortable and nuisance of a situation as he took a sip of his tea, the motion catching your attention. That is when you first noticed that he had the lower half of his mask lifted up to his nose. Was this the first you had seen of part of his face? You found yourself tracing over the outline of his jaw and the cool-toned, medium blonde stubble the color of pale sand after a storm that lined the skin there, following along the curves of his lips and noticing the small scar that traveled down until his words from your dream echoed in your head, the same lips that said to you 'you harlot of a tart'. And as you lifted your gaze to his eyes, you found them narrowing at you. Shit.

"There's uh.......there's a cuppa coffee for you in the fridge there." Price nods towards the fridge near you, hoping that would snap you out of whatever trance you are in. I mean if you don't want it, I'll take it.

"....................." You had this overwhelming urge to puke and the last thing you wanted was to unload your stomach's contents of microwaved pasta right in front of everyone.

"Eh....estas bien amor? (you alright love?)" Alejandro's words pull you out of your thoughts. Oh what I would give to have this man ask me if I'm alright-

Bitch just say something-

“Блядь (fuck).”

Wha-what? That’s not what I meant-

The men quickly give each other a glance from the side of their eye. Did you just blurt something in Russian?

".................sorry what?” You squint with a scrunch of your nose, pulling the collar of your robe over your braless chest as a faint heat rose to your cheeks, utterly terrified to look them in the eye lest you'd get flashbacks. Should've just made a run for it when you first saw them-

More silence, nonexistent chirping of crickets that makes you want to crawl into a hole and decompose. Then there is the sound of someone slurping. Who-NOW WHO'S SLURPING?

"Sorry." Gaz utters a quick apology, dragging his tongue over his lips as he places his cup of tea down on the table.

"The coffee machine is broken love." Price adds.

"I know that." You state with a blink, startling the men on how quickly you suddenly respond as if nothing happened as you shove your bottle of pills in the pocket of your robe before unplugging the machine from the wall and tucking it under your arm.

The team can't help but watch as you leave the area with your mug in hand and the coffee machine in the other, each of them as confused as the next. What in the-

"What the bloody hell was that?" Price blurts out.

"Don' know. Anyone know what's the matta' with her?" Gaz watches you go with concern in his brow.

"Ah dinnae ken." Soap shrugs as he takes a sip of his coffee. "Ah think some nugget-lavvy-heid meid her up tae high doh."

"Mate," Gaz rubs his face. "English-"

"Ah said." Soap translates. "Ah think some eejit has riled her up."

The way Ghost nearly snaps his head to glare at the Scot. Why does he have a feeling he was talking about him in particular? There's absolutely no fucking way-Wait. The lollie. The fucking sour apple lollie. Was that some kind of an insult?

"Well that's a load of rubbish." Price comments. "If ye ask me, she's just knackered from mending yer sorry arses up."

The way Soap, Alejandro, König, and Ghost glare at him.

"Yeh but......why'd she take the coffee maker?"

"She's prolly gonna give it a fix." Gaz answers Soap's questions with a shrug.

Soap sits back in his seat with a pause, pondering on what Gaz had just said before turning to him with a confused look. ".................but ah thowght she's a doctor."

"Fuckin' hell Soap."

By the time that you return to your room, slamming the door behind you, you're already cussing yourself out for acting the way you did back there. Now they definitely were going to think that something was wrong with you. And if they did, what would you say? That you had a dream y'all were playing multiplayer adult twister? No. HELL NO. You'd almost prefer them to think you were a spy and take you out-and I don't mean take you out as in dinner, I mean take you out as in a firing squad take you out. All the waterboarding and the fingernail-pulling in the world could not pry that info out of you. If only that dream did not affect you as much, if only.

Hm. You know what, maybe Ghost IS to blame in all of this. You only get wacky dreams when you're stressed. After all, he was the one who got under your skin, not Soap, not Gaz, nor Price, definitely not Konig, and not even Alejandro.

There was only one other person who ever managed to get on your nerves the first time you got to know them, only one person who never failed to make you roll your eyes every time they opened their mouth: your ex. But even then, at least the two of you got along no matter the snarky comments you made towards each other. And as annoying as he was at times, he always found a way to bring a smile onto your face no matter how hard you tried to hide it. Ghost on the other hand, well…….he’s something else alright. This man literally has you wanting to rip your own hair out and hike to the Himalayas to seek some kind of therapy yourself.

"God I'm such an idiot." You growl between clenched teeth, tossing the coffee machine into the trash before limping around your room with your hands on your hips. You definitely needed to get out of the building or else you just might go mad. And with the men there who just witnessed you at your most vulnerable and natural self, the last thing you wanted was to be within their vicinity. Changing out of your sleeping pajamas, you threw on an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweats, grabbing one of your beanies and tucking your hair into it before throwing on a pair of sneakers. You’re already cracked out on pain meds so you might as well run a few errands while you're out, as well as grab a new coffee machine because god knows that's the only thing that keeps you sane these days. You’re so caught up in the process of rushing to get the hell out of there that you fail to notice the masked soldier standing right beside your door a foot away.

“Holy fucking-!” You jump in your skin, hand clutching your chest once you notice Ghost leaning against the wall in the same exact stance like in your dream. Jesus fucking Christ. “Ghost! I uh did not see you there. You nearly had me rushing to the hospital for heart failure haha.” You laugh nervously through your teeth, trying to maintain your polite manners as to not anger the contracted killer. What the hell is he doing here and what does he want? Sending the man a polite smile in hopes that he would just go about his business, you pull your keys out of your pocket, the jingling of the metal making up for the extreme silence that filled the dusty air between the two of you.

“………………………”

Jesus fucking christ. He's just standing there isn't he-

"Uh. Can I help you?” You ask, turning to the man who only stared in your direction, as still as an unused puppet. Only he seems to ALWAYS have something up his ass. At least a puppet talks.

Damn that fuckin politeness of yours, Ghost thought to himself. “......................You're bein’ dodgy." He did not like the way you were acting back there. It was as if you were hiding something. And being the person he was, he found it suspicious.

Oh if he were to see the reason behind it. You're pretty sure it would make his mask blush.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You press your lips together, fixating on your keys in your hands as you try to lock your door.

"Your behavior. You're up to something."

Ah yes. Good ole Ghost. Trusting no one but himself, the little shit-

"Says the one standing right outside my room." You mutter to yourself, cursing under your breath at the way you fumbled your keys and were unable to lock your door due to how he glared at you as if you had put salt instead of sugar in the queen's tea. You bet your bottom you probably looked like a shmuck struggling with something as simple as locking the fucking door. If this dumbo doesn't scram-

"Come again?"

This man was really starting to get on one of your last nerves. “What? Didn't anyone ever tell you it’s rude to lurk outside a lady’s door? You can get your ass tased for some shit like that.” You snark before letting out a quick breath of air at finally getting your key in the lock. One step closer to getting the hell out.

There it is, the real you. Ghost almost can't help the way a slight amusement builds within him at watching you get riled up like this, the faintest hairline of a smirk begging to pull at the corner of his mouth. But despite his little fragment of entertainment from the show of emotion he had managed to string out from you, he had to remind himself the real reason he was here. “The hell are you up to?”

“Nunya.”

“Nunya?” Ghost narrows his eyes, not sure what you were getting at and at the same time not liking where this was going. He swears if this is one of your little tricks-

“Nunya damn beeswax that’s what.”

“What-“ Ghost straightens himself off the wall, hands lowered to his sides. Okay now you were just annoying.

“How was the sour apple lollipop?” You remark, not being able to hold back the snide comment that slipped from your lips. You prayed he would get the meaning behind your little 'token of gratitude' from last night.

You should not have said that-

Bitch I’d become a track star in the fraction of a second-

“You-“ Ghost takes a step towards you but stops from the way you whip your head towards him.

“I know you did it, you little burglar. What, you think I wouldn’t notice that some fish-and-chips-eating crackpot was ransacking my lollipop stash?”

Da foq did you just call him? Ghost is stupefied as he stands there blinking at you, hands ever so slightly tensing. How the bloody hell did you find out? Did you know about the apples as well? Please don't know about the apples- And as he tries to open his mouth to say something, you don't even give him a chance.

“You know, for someone that is known to be stealthy and whatnot, you sure do leave a mess of your Sephora eyeshadow everywhere.”

Oh now you’ve definitely popped a nerve.

“What? You gonna stab me?” You quirk a brow at watching him tense up. “Please, be my guest. Just make sure it’s quick and that I’m officially dead so my student debt disappears.”

Bitch don’t give him a reason tf-

Jesus you talk a bloody lot when you’re nervous, Ghost looks at you confused as he cocks his head back. Well he sure didn’t expect that answer. Doesn't change the fact that he's pissed though.

“You know, you should be glad I didn’t write your Skeletor ass up for not only neglecting medical treatment but also stealing my damn treats.”

“Ye’ve got some nerve ye little tosser-“ Ghost grabs you by your upper arm and yanks you to him as he glares down at you.

Your poor toe-

“Ow! Someone outta teach you some manners.” You sputter, surprised from his sudden and forceful movement. And yet, you can’t help but find yourself flustered at being manhandled no matter how much you tried to preserve your vexation towards him. Ohhh, were you attracted to this? Wait, am I attracted to this???? Nah-

“Yer a real pain in the arse you know that.” Ghost can’t help but to roll his eyes, knowing damn well he did not handle you that roughly to begin with, despite your reaction.

But you and I know it’s just your toe-

“Yeah no shit. I’ve been told.” You roll your eyes in a dramatic manner. “But if you wanna be real, you’re like a bad hemorrhoid if we’re being honest.”

Did you just-

“Whot the bloody hell did yuh just call me?” Ghost snarls as he yanks you even closer to him, your chest bumping into his. Did you just call him a fucking hemorrhoid?

The jerky movement elicits a small gasp from your lips, pried right out of your lungs before you glare back at him with as much as you can muster; your jaw clenched, brows drawn together, and your eyes shooting straight up into his even more menacing ones. You try not to think about those nonexistent slander of words he uttered to you. Dream or not, that shit hurt. And as you think back to the dream you had, you were swiftly brought back to the circumstance right in front of you, immediately aware of the lack of distance between the two of you and the way your chest was pressed up against his.

A heat starts to form in the pit of your stomach, slowly making its way from your core and unfurling out to every inch of your skin, like being brushed over with a velvety feather under the warmth of the sun. His grip on your arm is almost revering if it weren't for its threatening nature as you stare up at him, and you swear you could feel the subtlest shift in his fingers through the thick fabric of your hoodie from the way his thumb ever so slightly grazes across. Your sharp gaze softens, admiring the way the sun's rays from the nearby window lit up his lashes like wisps of gold, like the feathers of an oriole bird soaring over the deep brown valleys that resemble his eyes.

He smelled like last night’s whiskey, a hint of the cigarette he smoked this morning, and his cologne that smells of sandalwood and pine trees. It’s almost refreshing. And in this moment, you don’t even care that you literally look like a teenage boy with your hair tucked into your beanie, wearing a pair of converse and your vans baggie hoodie and sweats. There was only one thing on your mind, one thing only.

“Let go of me.” The only words you managed to breathe out.

“Or what?"

“…………..I’ll scream.”

*cue Princess Leia's theme*

Kiss him. *insert Emperor Palpatine voice* Do it-

You found yourself burning for this innate desire, this need for him to push you against the wall and have his way with you, to have him lift the bottom of his mask and feel his lips on yours, traveling down to the angle of your jaw and your neck and just about everywhere there was you, all of you. Simon had noticed this sudden shift in your demeanor, the way your biceps loosened under his fingers through the course fabric of his gloves, the way your lashes fluttered against the ridges and deep ravines of your irises as you stared up at him with a far-off look that yet seemed so close. Were you-no, can't be.

The way you looked under him appeared to lure him in, not to mention your scent, that same perfume that seemed to have dug its claws into him since the moment he first met you. His eyes now lowered to your parted lips as he found himself focusing on their shape and the short shallow breaths that drifted through, wondering about how they'd feel, their softness, their taste. And as his head lowered just the smallest inch towards you, he noticed once more the small circular scar on the side of your neck. Only this time, he was finally able to make out what it was, and it reminded him too much of his own past. How that scar came about to form on your skin, he had no clue. But it was none of his concern, he had to tell himself. Clenching his jaw, Ghost drew himself back, once again returning to that cold and forbidding presence that was there before.

Actually it’s a good thing you didn’t try to score a smooch. You’d probably just get WWE body-slammed-

“Can I go now?” You clear your throat. “I’ve got chickens to tend to and errands to run.”

"What errands?"

"Why? You gonna help me pick out some zucchinis?" You cock your head back. "Now if you could release that lego grip of yours I'd appreciate it."

Ghost lets out a hmph, the only thing he can do despite his frustration as he loosens his grip just as you tear your arm away from him.

“Thank you." You give him a condescending smile before reaching into your tote bag to grab something while Ghost watches you intently, hoping it’s not another lollie. Lies. Y'all know he wants one-

“Here are your blood results by the way since you refused to stop by my office to go over them.” You slap the papers onto his chest, which earns you another glare from him. “So don’t come whining to me when you don’t understand a thing it says on there.” You snark one last time before heading off to the front entrance.

"Oh and another thing." You turn back around. "I'd cut down on the smoking and drinking if I were you."

All Ghost could do was watch you walk off with the slightest stomp in your step before breathing out a “Fuckin h-“

“Goddamn son a bitch.” You grit your teeth, stuffing your hands in the pocket of your hoodie once you step out of the building. You swear that man goes out of his way to annoy the everlasting shit out of you. “Fucking shitbag cumguzzler ass-OH MY GOD!”

You stop suddenly at the sound of a small animal, your eyes wide and mouth hung open as you look towards the ground to see a tiny tabby kitten trotting in your direction from the bushes, it's tail fluffed straight up in the air as it was excited to see you.

“Hi there little guy.” You coo at the small ginger ball of fur making its way towards you before bending down and reaching a hand out. "What're you doing here all by yourself huh?"

The kitten stares at your outstretched hand, giving it a sniff before finally rubbing its head against your palm with its eyes shut. You almost had to bite your tongue from the squeal that just ripped out of your throat. I lied. You did squeal.

“Ahhh omg." Your smiled, your heart swelling at seeing the kitten warm up to you as it came up even closer and lifted its tiny paws to rest up on your bent knees. It was as if you had completely forgotten the mayhem that was today, as if it was just you and this tiny kitten and no one else.

"Oh you’re coming home with me.” You carefully pick up the kitten with both your hands before cradling it against your chest, stroking your tired fingers through its soft and yet dusty fur.

“Mew.” The kitten let out another meow, the small rumbling in his chest vibrating against yours as his pupils widened, nearly blackening out his pale yellow irises as he stared up at you.

“You know what." You gasp. "I shall call you Spot." (Kudos if you know where the name is from.)

“Mew”

“You don't have any siblings hiding out in the bushes ready to jump me and steal my credit cards do ya?"

“Mew.”

“Shit.” You mutter out, your smile dropping as a realization comes to you. How the hell were you going to hide the kitten?

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shoukiko · 3 months

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MORE SIMON GHOST RILEY HEADCANONS!!!! PT. 2!

HIIII IM BAAAACK, I didn't know what to write;; I've been kinda busy with comissions and uhhhh playing video games lolz

Anywayyyysssss I hope you enjoy!

This man can eat!!!! He eats soooo much!!! The first time you see him it you' have no words because holy shit. He eats like he hasn't eaten anything in weeks.

Stubble!!!!!!!! :DDD He face so scratchyyyy, sometimes if he's nuzzling into your neck you complain about it being itchy, he just nuzzles into you more.

Of course he's not huge on PDA, but he still tries to show that he isn't embarrassed to show love to you when you're not in private.

Holding your hand, maybe grabbing your thigh if you're sitting next to him.

Always looking at you, no matter if you're talking to him or not, his eyes are on you. Completely enamoured with your beauty.

Making myself blush over here lmao

I was using this in my OC's story (Sneak peek :3) but I think it could be used here too

If you ever text him, he will answer immediately. If you need help, he's already on his way. Maybe he can misinterpret a text and think you're in trouble, but that just means he cares.

He doesn't praise you a lot, but when he does he puts a lot of thought into what he may say.

"Dove" "Love" "Lovie" "Baby" Are the main names he uses for you, but I just know that if you used "Pookie" he'd say it back as a joke.

Only for you to constantly ask for him to say it again and again and again.

He'd take random photos and send them to you with the message "Thought of you"

He's just the biggest sweeheart to you

He loves making you laugh, it's his favorite sound

hE'D LET YOU DRAW ON HIS HAND CUZ I SAID SO

He'd let you paint his nails too, maybe not overly girly or whatever, but he'd be good with plain colors I can't think of anymore atm, but I will make more when I think of em

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goodday-goodmorn · 4 months

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Rahhhh it’s Christmas and i’m back! Today’s feature (feature? Should i start calling them that? Sounds kinda cool-) is the amazing @charliemwrites, specifically a little drabble (unedited as always), based off of their Keeper/Kept AU. Not thier most recent stuff- (I think it’s Neighbor Johnny or the Woof Woof series-) You know what? Just- Here. Everything they write is gold <3

Anyhow, i present: Domesticity and Devotion

“Oh to be a wild bird…”

You sigh, chin in your palm as you leisurely stare out at the window.

“Or a stray cat.” You muse, watching as one of the kitties of the neighborhood walks along outside.

“Those fuckers have it good. No shitty job. No rent to pay. Just free pets and wandering the world… and if someone’s being a dick they can hiss and bite all they want.”

You hum, reaching for your drink and sipping on it leisurely.

“I don’t think I could survive in the wild though.”

You say after a moment, realizing how you’re cuddled up in your blanket and sipping on your wendy’s lemonade, the TV playing some random comfort show and your laptop open as you halfheartedly play Papa's freezeria.

“Can barley survive in domesticity.” You mumble, glancing towards the envelope on the kitchen counter that you got this morning about a rent increase.

You sigh.

“Maybe in my next life i’ll be lucky enough to be reborn as some rich white ladies cat. Those fuckers are livin’ better than me that’s for sure.”

————

This is not what you meant.

When you wistfully wished to never have to step foot into the capitalist hellscape that was life again- that was not an open invitation for you to be whisked away against your will.

Apparently though, the 6 foot giant of a military man named Simion Riley, heard it as one.

Because now here you were, pampered and cared for like a bloody sugar baby or pure breed persian cat. Kept at some random location and fed and groomed and meticulously attended too.

All against your will, mind you.

However it’s hard to complain because well- you’re living life good. This realization, of just how good you have it- hits you when you feel yourself getting genuinely angry at the shitty romance novel you were reading.

The Male lead was treating the MC like shit- and the MC was letting him get away with it!

You feel your face physically grimace. To calm yourself down (because you are getting genuinely heated when she lets him shove her to the damn floor over asking him for a drink-), you set your i-pad down.

(It had been a gift; something sort of like a kindle, where you could only read books and listen to music. You weren’t sure what Simon did to it exactly- but it wasn’t just published books you had access too, comics, original works, poetry, you could get all sorts of reading stuff on here.)

“This mother fucker-“

You mumble to yourself in disbelief, shaking your head before huffing and picking the device back up. You’re close to cheering as you read the MC’s internal dialogue about wanting to bite his ass- (Truely an MC after your own heart- they were one of the main reasons you were still reading this shitshow-)

And yet, what does the main character do?

They get the drink for themselves and then let him snatch it from their hand and down it.

Nope. You’re fucking done. You’re fumin’ now, irrationally angry on the MC’s behalf because they’ve been putting up with this guy for fifteen chapters now.

The audacity of men- oh my god. You can’t believe this guy.

“Who does he think he is?!”

You grumble and then just for your own purposes you yell—

“Simon!”

Predictably he is at your side in a moment, dropping everything for you.

You have your arms crossed, as you say, “Go get me a drink.”

He tilts his head slightly, eyes crinkled just a tad at your strange mood but doesn’t deny the order. Simply asks,

“Cold or hot?”

“Cold.”

And with that he’s gone, returning with a fresh glass of ice cold lemonade, complete with a little lemon slice on the rim of the glass. You sip it, set it aside and cross your leg, tapping your forehead.

“Give me a kiss.”

He doesn’t hesitate for a moment, gently kissing your forehead.

“Kneel.”

His eyes are crinkled now with a bit of amusement, but he drops to his knees easy. Gently holding onto your soft thighs. (Always so gentle with you.)

“Course, pretty.”

He mumbles low, head tilted up to you in a question, “Need me to take care of you?”

You hum, absentmindedly messing with his hair and ignoring the way the question sends a slow pool of warmth into your tummy.

“No.”

It’s decisive. You’re practically preening with satisfaction at his actions.

“You can go now.” You say and like that, he gets up. Not a complaint on his lips even when you notice he’s got a raging boner.

“Wait!”

You call and he pauses, looking at you with a questioning hum.

“Kiss me again.”

And he does so, this time a soft gentle kiss on your lips. When he pulls away he mumbles an ever softer-

“Dinner will be ready in 10.”

You nod and pick up your tablet with satisfaction curling low in your gut. (For the duration of your reading all you can think about is how Simion would never.)

————

“And another thing-!”

Simion is absentmindedly (as absentmindedly as Simion of all people can get anyway-) rubbing circles into your back as you rant. You’re sat in his lap, coaxed into sitting there after he asked about your day.

So obviously you started to babble about the book you were reading, which turned into a whole rant session about how stupid the Male lead was.

“That stupid idiot- that moron- you wanna know what he does simion?”

He knows it’s a rhetorical question. You’re gonna tell him anyway. Still he hums to show he’s still listening.

“This bastard shoves them into the ground. To the ground! Can you believe the it?”

He shakes his head lightly with a tsk.

“Exactly. God and then when they get the drink he has the audacity to snatch it from their hand and down it in one gulp before they can even say anything.”

You shake your head, so far into your little rant you don’t realize how much you’ve made yourself comfortable. Sitting in his lap fully, ranting to him like he’s an old friend. Your tongue is loose with comfort right now. And that must be what possessed you to say—

“Me personally? I could never. If you ever pulled that shit— God i don’t even know what i’d do but it would not be pretty

You close your eyes with a nod to yourself at your own words. Not aware of the way Simon’s eyes seem to soften. Not until he gently kisses the top of your head.

“Never.”

He says it so quietly you almost miss it. (Feverintly. Reverently. Like the very idea is absurd.)

“If i ever do something like that you run and break into my gun cabinet and bloody shoot me.”

And god his voice- he’s 100 percent fucking serious. Suddenly you feel warm and small in his lap, utterly tiny compared to the sheer size of his devotion for you.

It’s all you can do to mumble out a weak.

“Good.”

And the rest of the night is spent with you reading the rest of the book together. When the MC finally is able to get rid of the Male Lead, it is a joyous occasion that ends up with her absolutely clocking the guy in the face with a champagne glass. Which then leads into a curious conversation with you and ghost about how much damage that would actually do.

It’s a good day.

#fanfic #cod fanfic #fanfic of a fanfic #(?) kinda #reader insert #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #Look at Charlie’s blog right now.#Specifically obsessive Johnny because when i tell you i was-#GAGED #Jaw dropped #Charlie’s got such good characterization #In the case she sees this-#…did you like it?#also hello

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codfanficedits · 3 months

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Before the mask - Part ten.

Pairing: Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Because Simon wasn’t born as Ghost.

Wordcount: 2479 | Rating: E! (18+ only!)

Warnings: Angst.

A/N: Simon would be around 22/23 in this fic, so it would be set around 2015 ish?

Skipped my classes to write this <3, anyway this is what I think having a functional, loving family is like.

A feeling of dread washed over you as you watch Simon walk away. His movements are stiff, muscles tensed, as if he was seconds away from exploding.

And all you can do is feel guilt.

You’ve done this before, shutting people out whenever you felt overwhelmed, and he would be the first person you lost because of this. Your whole life you had tried to be strong, to be independent, and it had lead you to a path of being unable to ask for help, to accept help and to let people in.

You didn’t mean to push him away, you just couldn't really cope with the constant stream of information being thrown at you, but instead of communicating, you had shut him out.

Your throat starts to get dry and you really want to reach out, but Simon was gone before you could fully react. Your feet feel heavy as you open the door to your quarters.

It had started to be such a lovely day, and now it had all gone to shit, you could feel the tags on your clothes, the music was too loud, the lights too bright, and on top of that, you couldn’t really shake the awful feeling this whole interaction had given you.

Though you had this every now and then, you would be overwhelmed, to the point that you really couldn’t stand have anyone, or anything around you. In response you close your curtains, making your room a whole lot darker, next to go were your clothes, the feeling of the fabric on your skin just felt too much, and you needed to get rid of it. Sliding under the covers was the best solution right now.

Maybe it wasn’t the best thing to take a nap right now, but you knew that if you tried to talk to Simon at this moment, it would just be a whirlwind of emotions. Neither of you would benefit from it.

Not that you could sleep much, you could hear his door slam shut, and all you could do was toss around, switching from your left side, to your right side, trying to sleep on your back. Nothing seemed to work, every time you closed your eyes, you saw his face again. The initial disappointment, the anger, the insecurities, and it made you feel like shit.

After what felt like hours, you couldn’t take it anymore, and your kicked your blankets off yourself, putting your clothes on once again. Even though you hadn’t been able to sleep, just trying to rest, with little to no stimulation, had calmed you down immensely, your clothes didn’t feel suffocating, and when you opened the curtains again, you could actually stand it to look at the world again.

Now would be the right time to talk to Simon, so you went to his door, politely knocking once, twice, three times, four times.

Fuck.

That awful feeling you had, came right back to you, your heart pounding in your chest. Was he ignoring you, or was he really out and about? How could he be out and about while you felt so awful, did he really care so little?

Without making a fuss you return to your own room, slamming the door shut as you drop yourself to your bed again. There is only one person who could help you right now, and it’s your dad.

You know it is expensive to call overseas, but you really need to hear his voice today.

Holding in your breath you wait for the phone to connect, and just when you think he won’t pick up, you hear the familiar voice of your father.

“Sweetheart! Everything alright?” Of course he is worried, getting a random call from a soldier never meant good news.

“No.” You couldn’t remember the last time your voice sounded this soft, this insecure. “I need your advice dad.”

“Hmm,” He wondered what would make you this distraught. You were usually much more cheerful in nature. “About?” He enquired after a moment, wanting nothing more than to reach out to brush his thumb against the side of your cheek, if he would’ve been here, he could’ve comforted you through his touch, but your father couldn’t, and it was killing him.

You sat down on your bed. "I've been dating Simon for a little while now. You've seen him once, and you like him too." You began, hoping he would get the hint. "But he wants to spend so much time together, and when I asked for some time apart, he got quite upset."

“I see,” He furrowed his brow, an all-too-familiar frown marring his features. You were growing up, becoming an adult. No doubt you’d find yourself in situations where you’d need guidance. He was ready.

“What did you say to him, if I might ask?” he enquired, his tone measured as he waited for you to answer.

"Okay, so." You began. "We had spent nearly the whole day together, and then he asked if I would sleep over at his quarters, or if he would sleep over at mine." You explained.

"So I told him I hoped we could sleep at our own quarters and that I needed some peace and quiet."

“And how did he react? Did he get angry?” Your father inquired, his brow furrowed even further. In his mind, there was very little cause for you to be upset. Your boyfriend had acted as he should; it was typical in relationships for couples to want to see one another, and your father knew about your tendencies to shut yourself off completely.

"Well, not angry. Just disappointed." You responded. "As if I was rejecting him."

You let some silence linger for a brief moment. "And then I may or may not have called him dramatic." You admitted. "He just, turned around and said we needed some space, and now I’m worried I’ve shut him off completely."

“I see...” he replied, letting out a breath of disappointment as he pinched the bridge of his nose. So it was just a miscommunication. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed. Your father wanted to say more to you, to offer you some of his advice, some of his experience, but he was interrupted by the voice of a woman.

“Let me talk to her!” The voice of your grandma was evident on the background. “She needs some advice from a woman!”

You didn’t have to be there to know what type of scene was unfolding. Your father holding up the phone a little too high for your grandma to reach, and her not giving up until she got what she wanted. It brought a smile to your face.

The amount of distortion on the background indicated that your grandma had won the battle. “That man doesn’t know what he is talking about.” She huffed, the moment she got her hands on the phone.

“Tell me what is wrong sweetheart.”

You straighten your back and you tell the story again. You needed some space, Simon reacted to that, and you called him dramatic.

“Hmm.” Your grandma stays quiet for a second. “I need some wine for this.”

You hear a faint protest on the background. “You can’t have alcohol with your blood pressure medicine!”

But by the Gods, your grandmother is a stubborn woman. “I’ll take a red, please and thank you.” And you know your father will fold for this.

“You know, sweetheart.” She speaks to you. “Your grandpa used to be the same. He would spent hours in his shed when he was overwhelmed. I hated it in the beginning.”

“You did?”

“Of course I did, I was madly in love, I finally had my soldier back with me, and then he went to spend his whole evening in his shed after we had done something together.” She explained, sipping on her wine. “It caused all of our arguments in the beginning.”

“How, how did that happen?” You bring out.

“Well, I didn’t manage to tell him what disappointed me, and your grandpa was horrible at managing his energy, mostly his social battery, so I would drag him along to something social, a party, a dinner, we could go out to dance, and he wasn’t able to tell me when he needed to unwind, so he shut me out and isolated himself. Drove me mad.”

It feels like a breathe of fresh air, of course you weren’t alone in the world, of course you weren’t the only one who experienced this, but it was nice to hear that someone from your direct family suffered from this and that very same person was loved all the way to after his dead.

“How did you two manage to deal with this?” You ask her.

“Well, first, I need to tell you, that just because it worked for us, might not mean that it works for you and your soldierboy.” Your grandma began. “But, I had to work a little on myself first.” She continued.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I reacted very strongly whenever he told me he needed his space, no matter if he said it very bluntly, or if he said it more, sophisticated, I would always feel this surge of anger, disappointment run through me.” Your grandma said.

“Why?”

“Well, that took me a little while to figure out. But, all my life I had been told I was too strong willed, too loud, too unlovable, and every time your grandpa told me he needed some peace and quiet, I took that personally. I took that as a personal rejection. I realized I was so afraid I was really unlovable, that the idea of him not wanting to spent his time with me, gave me the worst feelings of panic, and those feelings of insecurity, made me lash out horribly.” She explained.

And you stay quiet, not once had you thought your grandparents went through the same thing, they even managed to beat it!

“But.” She continued. “That didn’t mean that your grandpa was without blame. He could spend the whole day being with me, and all of the sudden he would drop a ‘I’m tired and I need some space’ bomb on me.”

“Oh.” You have to swallow the lump in your throat, that had been exactly what you had done. You had ignored every little thing that would indicate you were getting overwhelmed and you only put up your boundaries when it was already too late.

“You’re just like him, you know? You do the same things, being a stubborn little shit, who doesn’t want to accept any help, because you’ve been told that you need to be strong. So you ignore your own boundaries until you can’t take it anymore, and then you shut out the people who love you.” Grandma wasn’t holding back, instead she gave you the reality check you needed a while ago.

You swallow to get rid of your dry throat. You wanted some words of comfort, not your grandma ripping open the oozing wound, and forcing you to look at the issue, instead of ignoring it. “But.” You protest. “It is not like I can prevent it.”

“You can.” Your grandma retorts. “And even if you couldn’t, it is an explanation for your behaviour, not a free pass. Try to let him in, ask him for help, and for gods sake, learn to regulate. Tell him when you’re starting to feel overstimulated, tell him when you feel like it will all be too much. Because if he truly loves you, the only thing he wants to do, is to help you.”

She was right, and you hated it, you had been shutting him out, regarding that subject that is, and why? Because you felt like you had to carry the whole world on your own shoulders? Where had that gotten you? Not that far it seemed.

“Right now I don’t appreciate your words.” You tell your grandma. “But I’m sure I’ll find some truth in to them when I’m calmed down.”

The little cackle on the end on the line almost sounds endearing. “I know you don’t like them. Your grandpa hated it when I held a mirror out in front of him in order to make him look at his actions, but just promise me you’ll let those words sink in, okay?”

You knew she was right, and you also knew those words would make sense once you had thought about it for a little while. “I promise.”

“Good. Now, I’ll have to go, I have to wrestle your father for the remote, Judge Judy is on and he won’t let me watch it.”

Before you can even say a thing, your grandmother ends the call, and you stare at your phone for a second. The moment you realize the call is ended, the tears begin to flow.

It was all too much. Your argument with Simon, the self-reflection you had to do. The realisation that your family was at the other side of the globe. It hurts.

Your pillow gets used as a plushie and as a tool to muffle the sobs that leave your lips. Worry clouding your mind, your grandparents had managed to survive their hardships, but could you and Simon?

That cry felt good though, everything that had bothered you, was set free, and after a couple of minutes, the tears started to stop, your breathing started to regulate, and you even stopped the soft sniffles.

As you got up from your bed, you pass a mirror. You’re a goddamn mess, eyes red and puffy from crying, the skin on your cheeks wet. But despite all that, you give yourself the peace sign before you clean yourself up a little bit. A few deep breaths before you splash some cold water against your face.

You needed to talk to Simon, you needed this to work out, even if that meant biting the bullet. You had heard his shower, which meant he was back into his room, all you needed to do, was go over to his door, knock, and apologize. Easy peasy. Just follow the script.

Go to his door. Knock. And apologize.

Door. Knock. Apologize.

As you swing open your door, he does the same, the both of you stepping out of your quarters at the same time.

Door. Knock. Apologize?

An awkward silence followed as the two of you made eye contact. What could you even say in a situation like this? Should you apologize already? Tell him about the conversation you had with your grandma? Just.. What could you do? Maybe it would be best to start casual. The whole script you had made up, was blown to smithereens and you had some trouble adjusting to it.

“Hi.” The word leaves your lips, as he begins to speak too.

“We need to talk.”

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gen0c1de · 7 months

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Can you do a HC of Soap, Ghost, and König reacting to a GN S/O who has weird and random facts about any animals? Any random animal facts you have! Thanks! 🫶

I have a bit of a hyperfixation on random animal facts, so yeah!

I won't talk about the dolphins though... or the manatee that Cristopher Columbus found...

Requests are open!

TW: Animal facts!

John "Soap" MacTavish

This man doesn't know much about most animals.

Never really cared to learn.

But if he has any questions, he knows he has his own human "Google" specifically for animals.

Will ask you to tell him something you know about any animal or insect you see during missions.

He knows he's supposed to be quiet and focused, but seeing your face light up at a chance to talk about them? He's more than willing to completely blow everyone's cover.

When you go on a whole spiel about one specific animal, then it somehow reminds you of something about another one, he will place his chin in his palm and nod.

God knows he probably won't remember what your saying, but you look adorable and hearing your voice is another added bonus to the mix.

Sure, you scare the absolute shit out of him when you suddenly gasp at a memory of an animal you have knowledge on, but once his heart stops hurting he will ask you about it.

He bought himself some books on animals in an attempt to teach you something about an animal.

You most likely already knew the fact, but you pretend you didn't because it's cute that your little Golden Retriever boyfriend is trying to impress you and indulge in your hobbies.

Takes you to a Zoo or Aquarium so you can teach him something about the creators.

Sure, he could read about it where it has information TO read, but he claims he learns better when YOU tell him.

Just because its an excuse to hear you talk with a bright smile on your face and that sparkle of joy in your eyes, doesn't mean anything.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Doesn't know anything about animals except some are prey and others are predators.

He only knows that because its how he describes what its like on missions.

Doesn't care about animals, wanting to focus soley on his job.

Won't shut you up when you rant about them though... the sound of your voice distracts him from his mind.

Does actually find it cute when you see an animal outside the base on calm days and you talk about them, joy in your eyes.

If you see an animal on the battle field and rant about them... he will glare at you and tell you to shut up.

If he hears you in comms he will say your callsign and order you to shut up and focus on the task at hand.

Later, after the mission, he will nudge you and ask about the animal you had seen and wanted to talk about.

When you compare him to different species of an animal or a new animal he will act annoyed at it, but thinks its adorable that you think of him as something like that.

Will gift you a notebook or something like that so you can write down any and all facts you have.

When you tell him a really weird fact, he looks at you concerned about how you would know something like that.

You confuse and concern him, but he also loves you dearly.

Konig

OH THIS SWEET BABY

In the beginning of your relationship he would fall head over heals at the sound of your voice and the excited look on your face.

Does he hear what you're saying? Yes.

Does he panic when you ask him if he was listening and he forgets everything you said up to that point? Also yes.

Does it make him feel like a terrible boyfriend? Another yes.

Make sure you comfort him because now he feels bad.

A little further in the relationship, as soon as you start talking about animal facts, he records it.

Why?

Because he wants to write it all down in a journal he just bought that reminded him of you.

Why is he writing it all down in a journal?

Because he wants to give it to you as a present! Duh!

On missions, though, he doesn't pay attention to what you say at all unless its important for the sake of the mission or the teams help.

He loves you and your voice, but he's trying to focus on surviving and completing the mission.

If you call him a nickname based off an animal, he will ask why, and when you talk about how he is similar to the animal...

Be still his beating heart...

You're adorable.

He loves you so much.

When you tell him weird facts, he will be curious as to how you know, but also kinda doesn't want to know because the answer may be weirder than the knowledge you have.

#cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare 2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty headcanons #cod headcanons #cod mw2 headcanons

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dogmomwrites · 1 year

Text

15 Questions, 15 Mutuals

Got a couples tags for this one, so thank you, @andromedaexists, @eli-writes-sometimes, and @mariahwritesstuff! I'm gonna pass it on with soft tags to @axl-ul, @zoya-writes, @traveler-of-realms, @littlepatchofhell, @magic-is-something-we-create, @penspiration-writing, @thetruearchmagos, @witherednightmare, @zmwrites, @writingpotato07, @regalserpent, @fearofahumanplanet, @pluttskutt, @smzeszikorova, and @the-finch-address, as well as an open tag in anyone wants to join in! I'm well aware I'm a bit behind on this one lol

Since I had multiple tags, in addition to my own answers I'm gonna answer half of the questions for an oc and the other half for another oc. I'm gonna use the brothers Riley and Jimmy from my unnamed WIP (and it's unnamed sequel! *sob*)

⚠️ really long post, sorry! ⚠️

My answers

Are you named after anyone? Not to my knowledge. My mom was pretty random about names—my oldest sibling wasn’t named after anyone at all whereas my second oldest sibling was named after two different people

When was the last time you cried? I genuinely do not remember but I know it was a really long time ago

Do you have kids? No, thank goodness, because while I’d be a better parent than most parents I see in public, I very very much do not want that. I get worn out by nothing, I really could not handle a whole actual human child

Do you use sarcasm a lot? Yes. I’ve been told I have a dry humor (to which I responded “well, yeah, I grew up in a landlocked state.” He laughed the whole way back to his office lmao)

What’s the first thing you notice about people? Whether they seem happy or not

What’s your eye color? Dark blue, but I have sectoral heterochromia in my right eye! The different color is brown, and there are three sections of it, so it looks like I have a brown star in that eye! My heterochromia and my hair have always been my favorite things about myself lol

Scary movies or happy endings? This is circumstantial for me. I don’t really have a preference betwixt these options on their own. Curse of the Black Pearl scared the shit out of me when I was…however young I was when it first came out, I don’t remember and I don’t wanna math my age, but—it scared me then (that was before I learned I have severe kinemortophobia; I can handle CoBP skeletons now) and now it’s one of my all-time favorite movies. Alternatively, Return of the King technically has a happy ending cuz they succeed at destroying the Ring, and that is also one of my favorite movies of all time. I would need more info about the movie to make my pick, but I do prefer action and comedy, so happy ending? Most labeled scary movies are really dull to me and only rely on jumpscares (which annoy me illimitably). Anyway, I’ll shut up about this question cuz that ended up really long; sorry!

Any special talents? Uhhh rambling, I guess lmao

Where were you born? Arkansas, although I have never actually lived in that state. I am grateful for that

What are your hobbies? Writing. Reading. Games—video, board, card, outdoor. Procrastinating writing 😔

Have you any pets? Yesss! I have always had dogs and sometimes cats, and as of now, I have two buppy and the dumbest kitty I’ve ever had. She will literally run face-first into the wall and doesn’t always catch herself when you slowly lower her to the floor in that sliding motion, like you’re pouring water from your hands. She has landed on her face—multiple times!!—from that because she apparently doesn’t think landing on her paws is important. She's so dumb, it's great

What sports do you play/have played? Softball when I was peewee. Since then, I haven’t been on any actual teams, but I have dabbled with mini golf and yard football (I have a good spiral but I do not have the yeet)

How tall are you? 5’8, close to 5’9 I think?

Favorite subject in school? English cuz I got good grades in it lmao outside of quizzes and tests, I always loved reading about biology and I really enjoyed my psychology classes

Dream job? Writer tbh, with like a side gig at an animal sanctuary or smth

For Riley. He’ll take the odd numbers

Are you named after anyone? When his biological mother was young, she had a dog that she loved more than anything; had it throughout her teen years and even a couple years into her twenties. It was rough on her when the dog passed, but not long after that, she had her firstborn with her husband. She never considered any name other than what her dog had been called—Riley Zeke

(3) Do you have kids? Yes, although that’s a very sensitive topic for him

(5) What’s the first thing you notice about people? Behavior and how they communicate with those around them

(7) Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings. He was a big fan of scary movies when he was a dating teen tho lol

(9) Where were you born? Alabama, although when his biological parents died, he and his brother were moved up north to their paternal grandmother. He had a bit of an accent when he was first moved, but it faded

(11) Have you any pets? No, actually. While Riley has never had a pet of his own, there were many a dog and cat brought into their house during his younger years; however their mother drew the line when a nest on baby squirrels was brought inside

(13) How tall are you? Riley is 6’2, and stopped growing somewhere in his late teens

(15) Dream job? All he knows is soldiering tbh it was his dream ever since he was five years old. He does love being the center of attention though, so something to do with a stage would be pretty good for him

For Jimmy, who gets the even numbers

(2) When was the last time you cried? That’s a tough question. I know of a couple times he’s cried, but he doesn’t cry very often

(4) Do you use sarcasm a lot? Oh yeah, he uses sarcasm a lot

(6) What’s your eye color? Jimmy has dark green eyes. No heterochromia for him tho (RIP)

(8) Any special talents? Quite a few, actually. For starters, he’s not the best musician in the family, but he does know how to play three instruments, he can control lucid dreams, he can roll multiple coins across his knuckles at the same time, he knows a few magic tricks, and he can juggle just about anything—if he has four or fewer items, he doesn’t even need to pay much attention to what he’s doing. Lots of things were broken during his practicing years for that

(10) What are your hobbies? Nonsense, shenanigans, and a little dabbling in tomfoolery

(12) What sports do you play/have played? Jimmy was probably the laziest of his siblings tbh he didn’t care much for sports. Tried most of them out but never committed to them beyond the season. He didn’t even finish the season for soccer. He doesn’t like running

(14) Favorite subject in school? Science. He’s always loved doing the experiments himself, and science is the perfect scapegoat for when something gets set on fire, as it is more than just an excuse, it is a reason!

#15 questions 15 mutuals #tag game #open tag #open to everyone #my oc #original character

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justan-0-t-h-3-r · 2 years

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NEW THEORY:

Max is possessed by Billy's ghost which is why she wanted to see Steve's hairy chest.

Billy: C'mon, Maxine...What kind of a host are you if you don't let me see his hairy chest?

Max: No, Billy! That would be super weird. Shut up.

Billy: *falls silent*

Max: *under her breath* Fine. You win.

Gimme them. Let me have a look.

Billy: *humming and nodding in approval*

#billy hargrove #stranger things #harringrove #steve harrington #riley writes random shit because he can #stranger things season 3 #stranger things season 2 #stranger things season 1 #harringrove imagine #harringrove aesthetic #stranger things season 4 #billy and max #maxine mayfield

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f1nalboys · 2 years

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GOING GHOST HUNTING

heres a self-indulgent and wonderful little thing for some of the characters i write for because im hilarious and i want to ghost hunt with these mfs (affectionate) no i cant spell no idc deal w it yall should know this by now also is this a safe place to admit that i used to have a massive crush on zac bagans or no……

mentioned: jd, ian mckinley, randy meeks, tatum riley, sidney prescott, billy loomis, stu macher, mickey altieri, derek feldman, hallie mcdaniel, erin ulmer

Randy Meeks, Ian McKinley, Jason Dean, Erin Ulmer

ok so me and tatianna made this trio up and im in love w them so bare with me while i go feral. <3 ANYWAYS so all three of the boys simultaneously believe and don't believe. they're the type to be like "that shit is SO FAKE!" but the second they hear a sound they start throwing up. Ian is super into paranormal shit and has a big bucket list on where he wants to visit eventually. JD is the one who will antagonize the spirits by making fun of them and being disrespectful but the second he feels a breeze he's sobbing and asking for forgiveness. Randy is the most vocal about not believing until he actually shows up and then he's all about being respectful and not doing anything to piss them off lmfao. He's also the most afraid and will genuinely believe he's getting possessed LMFADBGJBSB Ian will have to calm him down and JD is there with a straight face but internally he's trying to remember that quote from the exorcist heheheh basically i love them it would be so easy to scare them when they're actually somewhere but just being like 'omg i see something...' erin is CONSTANTLY scaring them SJGBSHBGH its so funny she disappears in the place and just screams bloody murder, will jump out of random hiding spots, even throw random stuff to get the guys freaked out. she is the only one who is remotely calm the entire time and has, on many occasions, had to hold one of them who fucking scooby doo jumped into her arms yes it was ian no he wont talk about it he feels safe in her arms i would like to have sex in a haunted location with them all.

Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Mickey Altieri

ASSHOLES! they do not take it seriously in the slightest especially not Stu. he goes around and messes with stuff, jumps out to scare you, fucks with the oujia board if you're using one, shit like that. he's also not easily scared, if something happens he finds it fucking awesome, so just work on your acting bc if you start crying and saying you're seeing stuff he will go fucking bone white LMFAO. Billy is just like "this is so dumb ghosts don't exist you're an idiot are so are the fake spirits" the entire time. he will never ever admit if something creeps him out so he'll just use that energy and accuse you of being scared hehe. Mickey might be the better option out of them because he'll TRY to take it the smallest bit seriously for you. think shane madej type shit LMFAO he's talking with the ghosts and teasing them but if you're actually freaking out he'll still laugh at you but he'll lay off a bit. i would like to have sex in a haunted location with them all.

Sidney Prescott, Hallie McDaniel, Tatum Riley, Derek Feldman

best group ever ever ever <3 they all take it seriously, won't fuck around and be purposely disrespectful but also don't take it TOO seriously if that makes sense??? like they'll all lighten the mood with a few jokes and will occasionally scare the others when they can hehe. derek is the best if you're genuinely afraid of this shit, he'll be around you the entire time and try to calm your fears as much as he can. he'll even offer to take you home and leave early if you're not feeling it. hallie is the bona fide ghost hunter, has all the latest gadgets and knows all the rules she'd fucking buy night vision goggles if given the chance. she really wants to catch a ghost on camera and gets so excited at the slightest bit of activity, her energy and excitement are SUPER contagious. sid and tatum take it a little less seriously and mainly humor hallie when they tag along. tatum will be the type to come up behind you and go 'boo!' in your ear LMFAO. sid wants to play scary games like the hide and clap game but in complete darkness LMFAO. the bravest one too, will sit in complete darkness by herself and ask the ghosts questions. i would like to have sex in a haunted location with them all.

sorry guys something hacked me i think ignore the crossed out sections they mean nothing.

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gothamsglam · 3 years

Text

Can I have Your Name? (a SamBucky ficlet)

for @samshield hope you enjoy 😘

(also on ao3 under @/the_fifth_marauder101)

---

“Thanks, can I have your name?” asked Bucky with a charming smile on his face, pulling out a sharpie. However, instead of writing on an empty class as the poor customer thought, he scribbled down “Tony” on one of those ‘Hello, my name is…’ stickers.

“That’s a wonderful name by the way,” Bucky compliments, because fck you Steve, he can be polite.

He fcking told Steve going into customer service was a great idea. Idiot wanted to continue doing door to door shit, or, even worse, mope around forests for wandering travelers. He told him it wasn’t the 1400s anymore, and to grow up. Damn the supernatural council and their ‘hunt in pairs’ rule, he will go rouge and leave Stevie, he will do it.

“I’m this close,” Bucky had hissed, holding his fingers in the air so Stevie could see,

“Your fingers are touching,” Steve deadpanned.

“Exactly.”

The man doesn’t look up from his flurry of typing, “Thank you, it’s a family name.”

“Sure,” Bucky replies quietly “Alright, your order will be right out,” Bucky grinned, replacing his name tag with the new one without looking away from the brown-haired customer. The second the tag sticks to his shirt, he feels a refreshing rush of energy. Kind of like what he imagines those ‘caffeine/sugar rush’ those damn teens keep harping about.

“Thank y—” The customer—Tony—looks up from his phone to flash him a grin, only to have it fall from his face when he sees the name tag.

This was the fun part. Bucky didn’t break eye contact, maintaining it with the same smile, only now he could tell it felt eerie to the human. Like something wasn’t right.

The man’s brown eyes flitted up and down between Bucky’s face and the name tag, before he surged forward, “What di—”

“Have a good day,” Bucky bit out, still keeping the smile and cheery customer service tone. His eyes were blank, he made sure of it. Honestly, this whole song and dance was unnecessary. Stevie usually just wrote the name tags, and then stuck them on as he was making the drinks. Their shop was typically slow enough that there wouldn’t be people behind to question why the tender had a new name. But Bucky loved to fck with humans. What the hell else was he supposed to do? He’s been alive for 70 generations, let him have his fun.

However, today was a bit different. Another two walked into the shop, Bucky didn’t see it as much as he felt it. Bucky kept his back turned, hollering “Welcome to Stars and Stripes, I’ll be with you in just a moment,” over his shoulder as he made the three drinks. What asshole ordered three drinks?

Bucky’s question was answered when he saw the two men walk over to Tony’s table. One of them kissed Tony on the cheek and the other just faux-gagged before giving Tony a hug as well. Bucky called out the order, eyes tracking the way Tony mumbled something to the two men and both reacted oddly, as they probably should. Bucky would expect no less.

Apparently, he jinxed himself, because the man who hugged Tony came to pick up the drinks.

“Nice name,” said the man.

“Thanks,” Bucky flashed his uncanny valley smile and offered nothing else. The man winked and then walked back to the table.

Bucky did not look at his ass, he didn’t.

---

The next day, the man comes in. Not Tony, but other guy. The cute one.

“Hi my name’s Jacob, how may I help you today?” Bucky asks politely.

The man, to his credit, didn’t bat an eyelash, “Hi I’ll have three—” And he rattled off the same order that Tony had. Bucky resisted the urge to frown, maybe it was just a two-time thing? This group has only come into their shop once before, what are the odds of it happening again, for a third time?

“Perfect,” Bucky slid the receipt across the counter, “Can I have your name?” Bucky asked, as he reached for a pen.

“Nope,” the man replied.

Bucky froze in his moments, “What?”

The man shrugged, face showing nothing but politeness, “I’m the only person in this store, you’ll be able to find me.”

Bucky was stunned as he watched him walk back to the spot the trio was in the other day. As he sat down, the man gave a nod of acknowledgment to Bucky, who was still staring.

His brown—almost hazelnut with the light of the sun—eyes stared into Bucky’s own, and in them all he saw was mischief.

Fck.

---

For the next two days, Bucky kept a—subtle, he wasn’t obsessed or anything—watch out for Tony or The Man. And for those two days, he didn’t see hide or hair of them. Bucky figured they must have been college students from nearby campuses, wandering in when Starbucks was too full, which happens often enough. Then on the third day, he returned.

“Hey, Jacob” greeted The Man, his smile so bright—so bright that Nat would have burned like she does under the sun and threaten to bite the man in the jugular. Bucky, who was too gobsmacked to even deliver his customer service opening, stared at him.

“Not Jacob,” Bucky said, his voice strangled.

The Man chuckled, his eyes sparkling with the same look from the first day he ordered, “Ok ‘Not Jacob’, may I have—” And repeated the same order from the last two times.

“Um, right, uh” Bucky stammered, face growing hot as The Man raised an eyebrow at him smugly, “Can I have your name?”

“Put Redwing,” The Man said, shrugging. The corner of his lips pulled upwards into a happy smirk—how can a person have a fcking happy smirk?—, not that Bucky was only looking at his lips or anything.

“Redwing?” Bucky asked, stupidly. Because why ask, idiot, why ask for clarification? He read somewhere that the psyche is powerful enough to make the body do things, like fake pregnancies. Whether that’s something only reserved to humans is up for debate, but maybe, if Bucky doesn’t ask and lives in blissful ignorance, he can feed off of a fake name. But no, because he’s a bloody fool, he asked.

“It’s my pet’s name,” The Man answered, then looked tilted his head, giving a sheepish smile, “Or at least, that’s what I want to name a pet, I don’t have one.”

“Right,” Said Bucky, suddenly feeling empty in ways that have nothing to do with hunger, “Your order will be right out.”

Their conversation was longer than normal, so when the man went to sit down, the couple came in moments afterward. All three sat in the same place as before.

‘Oh no,’ Bucky thought in dawning horror, ‘Regulars.’

---

“Falcon,” grins The Man, now foregoing any attempts to be subtle and simply being a little shit.

Bucky looked at him, face void of any amusement. At this point, he’s shucked the polite customer service voice and snarked back and forth with the regular like there’s no tomorrow—only in this situation, there is a tomorrow, there always is tomorrow.

Their staring contest probably goes on for a bit too long, judging by the way Tony and his boyfriend—Bucky can feel comfortable calling the two a couple, based on how disgustingly affectionate the two get in the cafe—walk in.

The Man flashed a smile and turned away to greet the couple. An audible ‘Rhodey!’ reached Bucky’s ears. Now, finally, he has a name for one of the dark-skinned men, the one who kissed Tony’s cheek and was currently walking in with said Tony, arm around his shoulders. Only Bucky doesn’t feel that familiar warmth pool in his gut, refreshing his energy levels.

‘Oh,’ Bucky thinks, and watches as the man—his regular—laughs with his friends but also how his eyes flit back to peek at Bucky as names are spoken. ‘oh, loopholes.’

Bucky is so screwed.

---

The names his regular gives become increasingly goofy, and Steve teases him about how flirty they get—Bucky absolutely didn’t have a favorite, and it absolutely wasn’t Angel. But Bucky only believed Stevie when he got a number instead of a random moniker.

“What?” Bucky short-circuited.

The man just sighed, “Come on, I gave you my number, work with me here.”

“You finally did it, huh, Sam?” Tony called out from where he was typing away on his computer, which rested on Rhodey’s legs. Rhodey, who was sprawled out in one of their chairs, nudged Tony with his foot, “Shush, let them have this.”

‘Sam,’ Bucky thinks, and all he can come up with in his blue screened mind is, ‘Perfect’.

In his phone, the name Sam’s contact is under is ‘Angel’.

Steve heckles.

---

“How did you know, Angel?”

Sam looks at Bucky, and Bucky’s struck into silence, The whole world falls around them in muted sounds and lights fade into balls of blurry color, because as they lock gazes all Bucky can notice is Sam’s eyes. Sam’s eyes—his wonderful, soul-deep eyes that shine with mischief and laughter, that glow so bright and rival the heavens when the sunlight reflects off it just so—are sad.

“My friend,” Sam says quietly, “Riley. He was one of yours.”

Bucky nods, and reaches out with his metal hand—an injury from decades ago and a gift from a shapeshifter who hissed that his debt was repaired before slithering off into the night—pulling Sam closer to him. They watch the sun go down from the top of the roof, the stars revealed one by one, twinkling against the darkness of the dusk.

---

(One day, Bucky will ask for Sam’s name again, specifically his last name. Only then, will Sam reply honestly.)

---

AN: This is a more bastardized version of faeries/fae, I just made up my own creature for what Bucky and Steve are. Simply because I just wanted to write a little ficlet about SamBucky and didn’t do much research. Don’t think too hard about it :)

(and the link to the Tik Tok I saw on tumblr that inspired this is also linked on my ao3 fic)

Hope you enjoyed!

-vix

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daincrediblegg · 2 years

Note

Virgin Bruno anon back again bc I don't know what that anon was on about. I think it's a great pairing, and it's not even the most random one I've seen on here.

I know the post was about you as the vee to a threesome with both of them, but I too got musings on Bruno/Fr. Paul (gotta complete that poly triangle) and it straight CONSUMED my thoughts overnight. Fr. Paul has SO MUCH love to give and Bruno is so starved for it and thinks he doesn't deserve it. Imagine him getting totally overwhelmed with love when bring worshipped by you both. Mentally ill? More like mental therapy, thank you for coming to my TED talk.

Anyway FUCK that anon, you're a highlight of my dash errday.

#1: virgin bruno anon? I fucking love you. Highlight of the ask box. Decadent. Shit makes me so dopey and horny I explode and can’t even write back. Thank you for your service.

#2 LMAO god 😂😂😂 I don’t even have any idea if that anon was serious or not but it made me die laughing anyway that has GOTTA be the funniest most stereotypical hate anon I’ve ever gotten like you’re telling me to touch grass…😂😂😂😂 OVER PRIEST FUCKING AND INSERTING BRUNO INTO IT WHEN MOST OF THE FANDOM HAS ALREADY DONE THAT MORE THAN I HAVE??? Lol all right. Need to catch my breath jesus christ 😂😂😂😂

#3 😳 BRO. YOU. GET IT. Thats it. Thats the connection. Like??? Can you imagine him guiding bruno through it all??? Reminding me of his scenes with Riley a bit like (OH GOD ANOTHER THRU LINE)… holding him by the shoulders and offering every reassuring word he has in the book and telling him he is loved not just by god but by us- in the flesh and in the heart too. And that he’s free to accept this love as much as he’s already embraced god’s love because in His eyes that cannot be a sin… and he is no sinner either. He never was. We can give him that. And God knows we will 🥰🥰🥰

#anon really throwing around mental illness like its an insult to me lol like CLEARLY but I’m having fun what are you doin???#maybe have some hot catholic sad boys whisper their desires to you in a confessional and maybe you’ll calm down #and it’s very funny that I’ve become also a priest bruno hub like 😂😂😂#Y’ALL HES COLUMBIAN OFC HES CATHOLIC YES I KNEW WE WERE GONNA PLAY WITH THAT A LITTLE BUT Y’ALL WENT WHOLE HOG #I DIDN’T EVEN HAVE THE CHANCE TO DO ANYTHING AND HERE WE ARE 😂😂😂😂😂#incredible #anyway. ily virgin bruno anon you understand me #bruno madrigal #encanto #father paul #midnight mass #virgin bruno anon #you get yourself a tag

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cruecifymesixx · 4 years

Text

Love and Leather /part eighty two/

Word Count: 6k

A/N: sorry it took so long! enjoy! feedback is always appreciated

Warnings: language,semi fluff

Taglist: , @aryssav , @miserablecunt , @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @fandomshit6000, @anntheboneless, @justjodeye, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @thatbandchick39, @awkwrdcait, @countrygirlswonderland, @awesomealmostdopestudent, , @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @terror-triplet, @shouttatthedevill @beachystars, @rodriguez025, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie, @anxious-diabetic, @awkwardblackgirls, @rockersbox, @shamelessobsessions, @jerseytaint, @lilytalebi, @criminalyetminimal, @motley-queen, @trapt-in-a-dream, @broke-n-bitchy @thanks2pete, @lovesick-heart0, @keepcalm-and-beyou, @miriampraez, @teenwolflover28, @lilyhw1, @motherloovebone, @random-internet-user-4471, @falcon-arrows, @talranocchia2001, @waywardprincess666, @iluvmesomemarvelndc, @zoenicoles, @vamprlestat, @supersoldierballerina, @primal-screamer @electradestiny, @marshbev, @n0-sh0rtage-0f-faults, @cruebaby, @ggorehorror, @valentines-in-london, @miss2001babe, @nassauartist @cmft-jr-winchester, @bokkie92, @notworthyofyou1120 @xrosegoldwolfx, @lauravic, @mgkobsessed, @chaoticvybe, @kellysimagines @thoughtsoftheantagonist @marvelismylifffe, @sleepyjunhong @meetthesixxter @sparxx27 @gingerspicetalks @kaitieskidmore1 @unknownoblivion @nevergoodenuffbutokaaayyy @sublimeprincesswasteland @kylieinwonderland @haileynicoleseavey17 @lavendersoundbarrier @youretheonlyonewhomakesme, @xxisxxisxxis, @dogmom2014, @cruesixxlover1991, @xpoisonousrosesx, @m0rnlngstar, @findingmyths, @i-want-to-shoot-myself, @arianareirg, @fentitrbl, @motleycrueprincess, @redlipscrystalskies14, @samanthadegaro @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @thechangingme, @makaelahdelvalle, @oskea93, @idkmanhereisshitilike, @patheticgay69, @chefwaitertable, @love-struck-aries

*flashback*

~October 1st, 1990~

I carried the dirty cups and bowls from my bedroom down to the kitchen and placed them in the sink before washing my hands. I patted them dry before grabbing a bagel and tossing it in the toaster.

I exhaled deeply as I looked around my moms house, the pristine white marble counter tops reflecting the sunlight shining through the windows to make everything seem brighter. I glanced at the pile of mail on the island as a sunflower yellow envelope caught my eye.

My eyebrows furrowed together as I stepped over and shoved the bills and fashion magazines to the side and grabbed it. My eyes widening as I saw 'N. Sixx' in the top right corner and it was addressed to me. I frowned, my stomach becoming overrun by a wave of nausea as I ran my thumb over a smudged blue ink finger print.

"Shit." I tossed it down when I smelt the bagel burning. I quickly grabbed it and winced when it burnt my fingers.

"Oh wow, you're up early sweetie." I turned around when my mom came in with a paper bag of groceries and placed her Louis Vuitton purse down on the counter.

"Early? It's two in the afternoon." I reached for the jar of peanut butter and container of cream cheese from the fridge.

"Well you've been sleeping till about four since you got here a month ago..." She spoke softly as she started taking out fresh produce and putting it in the fridge.

"I'm tired." I shrugged my shoulders and smushed together the bagel and took a bite, "Do you need help?"

My mom glanced at me, "No, it's just this." She smiles before she examined me, "When was the last time you showered? Or took your hair out of that bun?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. Can't remember." I leaned against the counter as I watched her slip on her glasses to read through the mail, tossing bills to the side as she threw away the magazines. I stared mid bite as she picked up the envelope and scoffed.

"This is trash too." She shook her head as my eyes filled with tears as she tossed it in the garbage.

"Don't!" I shouted before grabbing it and holding onto it, "It's my mail." I told her as she came over and tried taking it from me.

"Vanity, give it to me. You don't need to read whatever bull crap he sent. Give it, now." I shook my head as she held onto it and tried tugging it away, "Do you want to keep crying over him or do you want to move forward?"

"Let me have it, please!" I began sobbing as my mom sighed and let go of it before wrapping her arms around me and running her hand through my hair.

"Sh, sh. It's okay." She pressed a kiss to my forehead, "I know it hurts pumpkin. But you can't keep holding onto him, you gotta let him go honey." I couldn't control my breathing as I clutched my chest and leaned into her. Mom gently took the letter from between my fingers, "He is just trying to tell you how sorry he is. If he was sorry he wouldn't have done it in the first place Vanity. There's no reasonable excuse for cheating."

"It doesn't make sense mom. Why would he do this to me?"

*end flashback*

"For our next exercise, I want you to hold hands and look into each other's eyes."

Nikki and myself both rolled our eyes as we sat in two chairs facing each other. His hands found mine first as I sat forward just a bit more, "You're hands are cold." He observed as we waited for the next instructions.

"Cold like my heart." I quirked an eyebrow as he chuckled and gave my hands a light squeeze.

"I want you to two focus one one another. Really look at each other's features. Look into each other's eyes, Vanity what do you see?"

Is this really suppose to help us? Or is she just bullshitting at this point?

"His eyes are a bit more grey today. I think it's because his shirt is a dark blue. He hasn't shaved in a few days either so he has some stubble. His eyebrows need to be plucked-hey you're wearing rings that hurts! I was just answering the question." I winced when he squeezed my hands again and the bulky rings pinched my fingers.

"Look beyond the physical aspects, Vanity. It's not always about looks." I rolled my eyes at her words.

"I know that, can't help that he's pretty and I like to look." I wiggled my eyebrows at Nikki as he blushed a bit.

"Shut up."

I exhaled and looked into his eyes, "I see warmth and protection. I also see pain and his eyes look tired...he usually has a sparkle to them." I glanced over at Crystal as she was writing something down.

"Why do you think they aren't sparkling?" Crystal questioned as I looked back at Nikki and shrugged.

"Dunno. He probably wishes we were better and didn't have to do this. Or that I was better and would just be with him, I don't know."

Nikki remained quiet as his thumb absentmindedly went back and forth over my hand, "Yeah, it's probably that."

"Back to the exercise." I sighed and looked at him again, "Tell me one of Nikki's flaws, but address him when you say it."

I shook my head and ran my tongue over my bottom lip, "I wish you didn't expect things to be perfect all the time. Wether it be yourself, me, our our relationship or the band."

"Nikki? Any comments?" He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out, "Okay, now something good about Nikki."

"I like how passionate you are about everything you do. You always put 110% into everything. So I think that also falls into your perfectionist thing as well."

"Thanks..." He smiled a bit and brought my left hand up to his lips for a kiss.

"Very good, Nikki your turn."

I could see the wheels turning in Nikki's head as he stared at me, his eyes darting to every point on my face, "Her eyes are golden today, full of life like always. Even on her worse days they're still like that. She however, just got her eyebrows done the other day so they look good. Even and perfect and pristine, just how she likes them. She always has a look in her eye like she's up to something, uh mischievous I guess you could say. It's not a bad thing. It's just Vanity. I see that underlying anger though, it's always there. I think of it as a warning and her self defense mechanism...that enough?"

Crystal nodded, "Yes, but can you tell me about Vanity's anger a bit more?"

"It's explosive. It's not the little things that make her loose it but a build up of a lot of big stuff. Unless someone really got under her skin. She can be violent but I know how much she regrets it once she calms down. She's out of breath, exhausted. Her hands shake and her voice trembles and her words will cut you deep. I've been on both ends, receiving it and watching her dish it out to someone else. I know she's been like this since she was a kid though. She just has anger issues."

I exhaled deeply as I let go of Nikkis hands but he quickly grabbed them again, "Can you give me a flaw of hers?"

Nikki cleared his throat and looked at me, "I wish you didn't run when things get rough or hard or it doesn't go the way you want it too. I think a lot of our fights could be prevented if you just stayed and talked to me."

We looked at one another, "Yeah....I know." I breathed out when we let go of each other's hands.

"Nikki, you called and said you wanted to bring something to give to Vanity? Do you have it?"

I watched as Nikki went to the coat rack and grab a yellow envelope out of the pocket of his leather jacket. He came back and sat in front of me and handed it over to me after a few minutes.

"I didn't know we had homework." I chuckled a bit, feeling Nikkis intensity pouring out of him as he just stared at the envelope in my hand.

"Babe-" I looked at him, and he had that fucking look in his eye that I hate. The one where he's gonna deliver me bad news. That look, "You know how I told you I wrote you a letter after you left?" I nodded at his words and he glanced down at it before looking at me again.

"Oh..." I flipped it over to see my name written with my moms address and a stamp with planes in the right hand corner. The envelope was starting to fall apart as it was crumpled and ripped with water spots on it.

"Do you mind reading it out loud Vanity?" Crystal asked, giving me a reassuring smile."

"Okay." I cleared my throat, a heavy feeling in my chest as I opened it up with my nail and pulled out yellow lined paper that was folded up:

9/23/90

Vanity,

I can't even put into words how sorry I truly am. Please, you have to believe me, this was never my intention. I just don't know what happened, or how I could even let this happen. It killed me to see the look and tears on your face that day back at the house, and it ripped my fucking heart out when you took the ring off and left it on the table. I thought getting sober would make me a better person, but clearly, I was wrong.

It's 3AM and I can't sleep. I didn't think having you by my side every night would be so relaxing and calming and much fucking needed. Sometimes I'd just listen to you sleep when I woke up in the middle of the night. I'd wrap you up in my arms and pull you closer to me mainly because I was having nightmares for a while after we moved into the house together. I never told you because I didn't want to worry you when I knew you were already worried about me. But I also did it because I love how you feel and fit into my arms and the way you curl up against me. How I fucking wish you were here.

I go back to touring in a few days and I am dreading it. The guys won't even fucking look at me. And I can't stand the shitty papz right now. Are they giving you issues too?

Doll, you have to believe me, Brandi was a god damn mistake. She, in no fucking universe can compare to you. She isn't even remotely half the woman you are. You're out of this world, Van. I've never met anyone like you. And I think, truly from the bottom of my heart, you're the only chick I have ever loved. That I have ever wanted to be with, to be married too, to have children and a future with. And now that's gone and I just have to accept the cards I hand drew.

If this is the end of the line for you and I, please just do me a favor. Take care of yourself and always remember who the fuck Vanity Blackwood is and stands for. If it ain't gonna be me, I want you to find a good guy that's up to par for you. I tried being the best man I possibly could be for you, but I couldn't live up to my own expectations and I am sorry for that.

I'll cherish every moment and memory I had with you for the rest of my life, and into the next life as well. Maybe in another universe we'll meet again and I'll do things right the first time. I love you.

Forever yours,

N. Sixx

I wiped my eyes as I stared down at the journal paper, blue ink now smearing as much tears hit it. I re read it in my head, twice, three times, four times before a sob escaped my mouth and I leaned over in emotional pain, crying with my face in my knees. I felt Nikki's hand on my back as he got off the couch and crouched besides me, his knuckles rubbing up and down my spine.

"I just wanted you back Vanity." Nikki mumbled to me, "I wanted to fly to Dallas and talk to you but Mick, the wise one he is, told me that wouldn't be one of my best ideas.."

"My brother probably would've shot you." I side eyed him, a lopsided grin plastered on his lips.

"I figured as much. He kinda pinned me against the wall when they came to get your stuff."

"What do you think of the letter, Vanity?" Crystal questioned as I sat up and reached for a tissue and patted my eyes. Nikki sat in the chair across from me, keeping his hand on my knee.

"Makes my heart ache knowing he was going through the same emotions I was going through, if not worse than I was. That he already had that much guilt on his conscience only a few weeks after the fact. I could see why you fell off the wagon for a bit. You were hurting just as much."

Crystal eyed me, "Did you not think he would be? Is that why it's such a shock to you?"

I breathed out a long sigh, "I don't know. I-I just didn't think he gave a fuck anymore. He didn't care to stay loyal to me so why would he care about the outcome and how I felt?"

"Well, clearly you see that wasn't the case now was it?" Crystal smiled at me and looked at us, "Valentines day is coming up. Do you two have plans?"

"Other than getting Valentine's Day cards and heart shaped cookies for Arianna's class, no I don't." I laughed a bit and took a sip of my watered down ice coffee.

"No, guess not." Nikki breathed out as he took his hand away from me.

"Have you two considered maybe seeing other people in the mean time? To figure out if this-" she motioned to us, "Is what you really want?"

What?

I scratched the top of my head and glanced at Nikki, his jaw clenching as he glared at her, "No. We have not considered that and we aren't." He snapped at her as she smiled and nodded.

"Okay. Too bad, it might help. You know, distance making the heart grow fonder?. Anyways, I'm seeing a little progress and I like it. How did the activities go? Did you two do that?"

"We went to the beach, it was Nikki's idea and he took pictures. We also had lunch too, he packed a picnic. It was really nice, I enjoyed it a lot actually." I expressed with a smile

"And what did you plan for him?" Crystal asked as I stared and glanced at Nikki. I haven't even thought about doing anything with him.

"Uh...we've been busy with Arianna but I know Vans planning something fun for us to do. I think mini golf was one idea and going to the Griffith Observatory is another."

Dr. Peterson eyed me as I looked past her and at the abstract painting on the wall, "Very well then. I look forward to speaking with you two again soon."

I folded the letter back up and placed it in its envelope as Nikki shook her hand first, "We'll make an appointment up front." I smiled at her as she nodded.

"I want to hear about the activity you chose to do with Nikki next time, Vanity."

"Yeah, yeah." I waved her off as Nikki held the door open for me.

When we were back in the car, I buckled up and turned up the radio before backing out, "So you really don't want to do anything for Valentine's Day?" Nikki asked as he changed the station I had on and turned it to the local rock one.

"Nikki, you buy me nice things and profess your love for me all the time. We don't need to do anything for Valentine's Day, it's okay." I reassured him as I reached over the console and patted his knee.

"Is this a trick? You saying you don't want to do anything but then Valentine's Day comes around and you get mad at me because you actually wanted me to do something even if you did say no? I know how women work Van."

I laughed, "What!? No! No! Nikki, I promise you we don't have to do anything okay? we can just hang out at home or whatever. I don't care." I shrugged at him as Nikki chuckled.

"Alright, princess. Whatever you say. So uh, you wanna go out to dinner tonight with the band? And Clementine? To celebrate the album being complete?" Nikki questioned as a light gasp rolled past my lips, my eyes glancing to him as my hand smacked his chest lightly.

"No way?! You guys are done!? You haven't even brought home the tape so I can be the first listener and yeah of course I'd love to go to dinner with everyone. When is the album going to be released? I'm so proud of you guys." I smiled at Nikki, hand reaching over to touch his cheek.

"Thanks Van and next month I believe. The team is working on getting us booked with MTV and some radio stations so we can get one of the songs out before then. We're still trying to decide which one would be good. Maybe you can take a listen later tonight after dinner and help me pick?" Nikki spoke contently as I glanced at him.

"Yeah, I know you talked about that when we went to the beach. I can at least listen to a little bit, I have to be up at five for my shift at the diner so you'll also have to get Arianna to school."

"No problem." He chuckled, "It's a piece of cake to get her up. I don't know why you have such a big deal."

I scoffed at his words, "That's because you promise chocolate chip pancakes with extra syrup and no fruit for breakfast." I put the car in park as we arrived at Arianna's school, "And plus, I'm not a morning person either."

*A little while later*

I pulled up the driveway, a white Mercedes Benz convertible was parked in my spot, "Whose car is that?" I questioned Nikki as he pulled his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose and glanced.

"No idea. How'd they get in? Not everyone has the code to the gate." Nikki explained as I saw the drivers door opened and gasped.

"Mom?" I stuffed the keys into my purse as I got out of the car, "What are you doing-" I stopped talking when my brother and sister also got out of the car, "...here."

"Grandma!" Arianna ran time her as she picked her up and held her tight.

"Oh my sweet angel! I've missed you so much! I have some gifts for you." My mom devoured her cheeks with kisses as Arianna giggles.

Nikki came up to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder and turned us around to face the yard, "So, I maybe forgot to tell you they called while you were getting your nails done last week...don't yell." He gripped me tighter when I tried pulling away from him, "It just slipped my mind, I am sorry."

"Nikki are you serious? You forgot? That's like me forgetting Deanna is gonna stop by for dinner one night." I stared up at him, "And I know that's a dramatic comparison so don't look at me like that. It still would've been nice to know."

Nikki groaned, "Van, I forgot! I'm sorry."

"Yeah, yeah and it's fine. But how do you forget something like that. Didn't our therapist want us to communicate?"

We both turned around when my mom cleared her throat, "Arguing already?" She had a disapproving look on her face as she glanced at the both of us.

"No mom. Just talking about where everyone is gonna stay. One of the rooms are unfurnished now and the other is Nikkis painting studio." I spoke quickly as she eyed me.

"How was your flight?" Nikki smiled at her as she looked towards my siblings and rolled her eyes.

"Our flight was fine. We can stay at a hotel if it will be an issue for us to stay here, Nikki."

He shook his head, "No ma'am. It's not a problem. Greyson and Sage can take the couch. We just have to put sheets on the bed downstairs since Clementine moved out."

I deeply sighed and called for Arianna to come inside with me. I didn't want my family staying here even if it was just for a few days. It just gives them the ability to nit pick everything that is wrong with myself and Nikki.

"Aw, that's too bad. I know Vanity has always had a hard time keeping friends that were girls. She's always been one of the guys." Greyson butted in as Sage made a blow job motion near her mouth.

"Both of you shut it." I rolled my eyes, "She's living with Tommy and I see her a lot still. Her and Nikki just didn't get along." I glared at the both of them as they laughed and gave each other high fives.

My siblings and I are only a few years apart. Me and Greyson being only four and Sage being only six. But that didn't stop them from acting like fucking teenagers again.

Arianna came over to me with a piece of paper, "What did you make for me today baby?" I chuckled and played with her hair as I unfolded it, a wide grin playing across my lips, "Is that all of us?"

Arianna nodded, "Yes! Me, you, daddy and Anarchy! Do you like it?!"

I bent down and kissed the top of her head, "Of course I like it! Go show daddy and then put it on the fridge okay?"

"Dad!!!" Arianna went running and screaming for him.

"She's gotten so big Vanity. I think the last time I saw her she just starting to talk." Greyson expressed as he plopped down on my couch and kicked his dirty converse up on the coffee table.

"Yeah and she hasn't shut up since-"

"Talk? I haven't seen her since she was still in diapers." Sage retorted as I looked at her.

"You were in college still but you were also more than welcomed to come to New York to see me." I told her as she rolled her eyes and sat down.

"Yeah, well you coulda came home too. You always do this."

"Do what?" I questioned, looking at her confused as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"This. Always get distant from us and then we have to come see you. When was the last time you even called mom?" Sage ridiculed me as she shook her head.

"Sage, I've been busy. Arianna takes up a lot of my time and the cross country move-"

"...Wouldn't of had to move if you didn't just up and disappear from him."

I scoffed, "What is this? A come to California to make Vanity feel like shit trip?" I rolled my eyes, "You know why I left Sage and-"

"Yeah and you're right back here with him. Whose to say he won't do it again?"

"He won't."

"How do you know that?"

You know, I am trying my hardest to trust Nikki again. To be patient and let us go with the flow, but it's difficult when someone puts a sliver of doubt in my mind about him and us. I knew Nikki wouldn't, or I should say I hope he wouldn't ever do something like that again.

"I think what Sage means is that we just care about you and we don't want to see you get hurt for the umpteenth time by the hands of Nikki." Greyson spoke softly as he looked at me. He spoke like our dad did. Always level headed with a calm, almost soothing tone to his voice.

"And if he does, that's my business and nobody else's." I glanced at the both of them, "Alright? So can we drop it? He's trying and I'm trying too. And Arianna's happy and that's what matters. Okay, so can we please just...drop it."

"But are you happy?" Greyson questioned as I chuckled a bit and shook my head in disbelief. I hate when they gang up on me like this and back me into a corner. I know it’s because they care but it isn’t needed.

"So uh...I'm gonna order some Thai for dinner. I called and told Tommy who will tell the others that we can just do dinner at a later time." Nikki announced his presence as he came into the living room, "What are we talking about?" Nikki questioned as he glanced at the heated cheeks and hurt expression on my face.

I shook my head, "Nothing." I got off the couch and patted his chest, "I'm gonna help Ari with her homework before she gets to distracted by everyone being here."

*Nikki's POV*

I glanced back at Van as her hand left my chest and she walked into the dining room before calling for Arianna, "Is she okay?" I looked at Greyson and Sage as they glared at me.

Ah. I see the issue now.

"I think she's just overwhelmed we're here. I guess you didn't tell her we'd be coming." Sage spoke bitterly with a sour look etched on her face.

"Yeah uh, I've been real busy finishing up the album and it just completely slipped my mind." I smiled at her as she rolled her eyes and reached for the tv remote, completely ignoring me.

"So uh...how's school Sage? You're still in college right? Texas University right?"

Sage stared, her eyebrows becoming scrunched up, "I've been out of college for three years Nikki."

I chuckled nervously, "Right sorry...I've kinda haven't seen you since uh-"

"...Since we came and got all of Vanity's stuff after you cheated on her." Her mahogany eyes were dark as she continued to glare at me. I understand that they are also upset with me. That they just care about Van and don't want to see her get hurt. But I wouldn't do that again, I wouldn't ever think about it.

"Yeah, that was pretty nice of you." I smirked as her stoic expression softened, "What are you doing now then Sage since you aren't in college?"

Sage huffed, "I'm a veterinarian in Houston. I have my own office and on the side I perform in plays."

"Oh! If you want to become an actress, I could get you in contact with some managers or get you a break in Hollywood." I glanced at her as she chuckled.

"I don't want to be big and famous. Little shows here and there is perfect for me, but thanks."

It's funny seeing her like this, because I still remember her as the 17 year old that was up Vanity's ass when we stopped in Dallas on the last leg of the theater of pain tour. I remember her bratty attitude that she clearly never out grew, the wire framed glasses and the reddened cheeks and googly eyes she got when Vince had pretty much only said hello to her. Do kids really grow up that fast?

I glanced over at Greyson, he had a tattoo of roses and a dove on his forearm with the word 'Dad' written plus some dates underneath it. He also had a small beard and was no longer the jacked up football player. I mean, he could more than likely still rip my head off my shoulders but he'd probably get winded doing it, if you know what I mean. I saw he had a gold wedding ring on his finger, "Oh...congrats man. When did you get married?"

Greyson side eyed me, "Fall of '92. Her names Melanie." He took out his wallet and showed me a picture of a blonde, "We're expecting in a few months. It's gonna be a boy."

"Oh, wow. She's pretty. Congrats man and being a dad is really fun. Do you know what you're naming him?" I questioned as he put his wallet away.

"Liam Ryan Blackwood. Melanie's due date is around June 8th. So, we're excited. I know Ari's excited Mel told her on the phone a few months ago when Van called." Greyson chuckled, "I'm scared though. But Vanity did it by herself so I can do it too."

My expression dropped as a frown played on my lips, "I'm sure you'll do great Grey."

Greyson smiled just a bit, "Thanks Nikki. Are you and Van gonna have anymore kids? Or is Arianna it?"

I chuckled and shrugged my shoulders man, "I-I don't know, man. That's up to her really. We're just taking it one day at a time at this point with therapy and everything, I think it's helping us."

"Therapy? You two are going to therapy? Like together?" Greyson snickered as I nodded, "Wow, who woulda thought. Good for you two, though. Maybe it will work out after all."

*Vanity's POV*

"Mom, we are trying-"

"Vanity, he didn't even tell you we were coming. How can you even expect to have a relationship with him when he's hiding things from you already?" My mom berated me as I watched her chop up onions and mince garlic.

"Oh my god, mom do you hear yourself? Nikki's just been so busy with the new album and Vince leaving and finding John-"

"Well his band shouldn't take priority before his own family."

I rolled my eyes, "Mom it isn't like that at all. He just forgot. Nikki has a lot on his plate right now. I'm not mad about it and you shouldn't be either, you're here ain't you? So can you please let it go?"

My mom sighed as she dumped everything in a pot and began cooking, "I just worry about you Vanity. You never call home and it was like that in New York too even more so when Nikki's in the picture."

"I'm sorry I don't call, I'll try to call more okay? Nikki has nothing to do with me not calling. I-I just forget sometimes. I get so wrapped up in what's going on that's all." I picked at the grapes out of the fruit bowl, "Please don't look at me like that.."

"Like what? I'm not doing anything."

"That's your, 'I know what I'm talking about but since you're your own person I'm gonna let you figure it out yourself' look. You give it to all of us when we're doing something wrong." I clarified as a small smile formed on my moms lips.

"I just worry about you Vanity, that's all. I know you're the oldest and you're more than capable of taking care of yourself. But I also know how you are in relationships, you've always dive head first without thinking. You did it with Julian, and then all the little relationships after him and then Nikki. You hardly talked to us when you first got together with him. You moved straight into this house with him without testing the waters even with the chaotic history you have with him. I know you can be very...persuaded sometimes Vanny. Can you see a future with Nikki?" Mom spoke softly as she came over to the island bar stools and sat down next to me.

"Y-yes. Yes, yeah I can." Mom raised an eyebrow, "Mom, I can see a future with Nikki."

"And what does that future look like?"

Jesus Christ. I groaned and rolled my eyes, "I don't know. Why do I have to think about the future now? Why can't I just deal with it when I get there? I know I want to be with Nikki because I can't picture myself ever being without him. You don't know how hard it was in New York without him-"

"Well no one told you to move all the way across the country, Vanity." My mom said in a matter of fact type tone as she took a sip out of her glass of wine, "But fine, I will leave it at rest if you are happy."

"I am happy mom."

*A few hours later*

"Are you sure you'll be comfortable? I know it's not the microfiber pillows you usually like.." I stood at the guest bedroom doorway and watched my mom inspect the bed.

"It could be better." My mom eyed me with a smirk on her lips, "Yes Van, it will be fine." She chuckles as she came over and gave me a hug and moved pieces of hair out of my face, "My baby.."

"Mom..." I groaned and pushed her hand away, "I have a shift at the diner tomorrow morning so I leave around five and then Arianna is up at six but Nikki will get her ready and off to school and I should be home around noon or so."

"I'll probably go out and go shopping for Arianna. Get her some cute new outfits and toys with Sage."

I chuckled, "Yeah, okay but don't let Nikki know. He's not a fan of spoiling her excessively. But goodnight mom, I'm happy you're here."

"Goodnight sweetheart."

I headed up the stairs after making sure Greyson and Sage were okay on the couches. I walked down the hall to Arianna's room seeing Nikki in her princess bed reading a story to her as she laid on his chest. I listened to him changing his voice for each character as I picked up clothes and toys from her bedroom floor. I sat on her bed after, seeing her eyes flutter as she fought hard to stay awake, "...And we can finish it tomorrow." Nikki gently pulled her away from him as he pulled the blanket over her, "Night princess." He mumbled and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"And I'll see you after school. We gotta trip to the doctors tomorrow but we'll get a happy meal after okay?" I told her as she nodded and reached up to touch my face, "Goodnight Ari." I spoke softly with a light laugh and bent down to kiss her.

"I have a photoshoot with the band around four tomorrow so I won't be able to get to her appointment and I think your mom wants to go out to dinner tomorrow night too." Nikki explained as he followed me into my bedroom. I hopped up on my bed and laid down, patting the side next to me.

He chuckled and crawled beside me and laid down on his side facing me, "What do you see our future looking like?" I questioned, throwing my thigh over his hip and scooting closer to him.

He propped himself up and stared at me, his knuckle brushing over my cheek "Well, I see us out of therapy, thriving and being happy with one another. We'll be able to have a disagreement without it turning into world war three and we'll be good for one another, for Arianna and...others.."

I chuckled and raised my eyebrows, "Others?"

"Yeah, you know...others. Like uh...kids." Nikki mumbled as he stared at me, waiting for a reaction.

"Kids?" He nodded, "That's plural."

"Well someone paid attention in English." He chuckled and lowered his head to kiss me when i shoved his chest.

I licked my lips when he pulled away from me, "You want more kids with me?"

He nodded with a tight lip smile, "One day, when we're better."

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lozzypoz321 · 4 years

Text

Word count: 3.8k!

A/N: this is one of my favourite things I’ve ever written and I’m super proud of it, also the biggest word count I’ve ever done, hope you enjoy and pretty please leave feedback!! <3

Warnings: brief mentions of underage sex, calling of child services, brief mentions of an anxiety attack

Avengers college AU

Bucky: Guys I’m really desperate

Bruce: what?

Steve: wdym?

Bucky: does anyone have the first period free tomorrow? Can’t afford a babysitter for Riley :/

Tony: nah can’t, I’ve got a busy schedule

Clint: economics man

Bruce: science m8

Nat: same as Clint I’m afraid Jamesy

Clint: wbu Steve?

Steve: library club and I can’t skip

Bucky: >: I

Bucky: I think I may be having a midlife crisis.

Tony: okay 1. You’re 20 and 2. You shouldn’t have gone an’ knocked up a woman at 17

Nat: Tony!

Bucky: You’re acting like you didn’t get some at 17 Tony

Bruce: he has a fair point.

Nat: and anyway Riley’s too pure for your insults Tony

Bucky: uwu

Tony: you have officially turned into every teenage girl Barnes

Nat: anywayyyyyyy, Thor how’re you coping with your brother’s “phase”

Tony: I am starting to think Loki’s goth phase isn’t just a phase Natalie, I caught him walking around in a skull T-shirt with chains this morning

Clint: oh daym

Steve: what are you going to do?

Thor: I am going to show that I respect him by buying him some flowers!

Clint: What abt a chain tho?

Nat: wait, does anyone wanna go to laser tag at some point?

Tony: oooh yes!

Bruce: yeah I’m down! :)

Steve: I’ve got time yeah thanks

Bucky: I never back down from a laser tag game

Nat: great! I’ll book it with Tony’s card

Tony: wait what?

Bucky: oh shit, I’ve gotta go, Riley’s just run away somewhere brb

Clint: oh damn.

Bucky shoved his phone hastily into his pocket and looked around, desperation filling his eyes as they searched for any sign of his daughter. The bushes swayed with the evening breeze and very few people strolled around campus, either going on a walk, meeting up early with friends or getting food. The young adult heavily sighed out of relief when he caught sight of Riley, excitedly chatting to a man, who James quickly identified him as one of his other friends, Sam.

Braking out into a light jog, he made his way across campus to the pair while also trying to avoid bumping into the other students that were now staring at him, in college he was basically known as the fuck boy. Not that he was, the only reason behind it was that he had a daughter at 17 and everyone apart from his friends never saw past that.

“What’re you doing here munchkin?” He asked the small girl who was now shyly smiling at her father. Sam chuckled at the duo and turning his attention away from Riley, “wasn’t her fault dude, just telling me how she’s going to chemistry class tomorrow, can’t wait to see that” he said with a sly smirk on his face.

Bucky mentally sighed, yes it was going to be very tough tomorrow. Not only was she very restless, but she also was very talkative and wouldn’t put a filter on around people older than her, which most of the time could be very offensive. “Yeah! I promised him I’ll be good!”

“Oh really? Well I kinda hoped you’d have something to say to Professor Demon”

“Sam,” he groaned and ran a hand through his hair “his names Damon, if he caught you sayin’ that then we’d get suspended so quickly dude” Riley giggled and looked up at her dad innocently “and then we’d go poor because you suck at getting jobs”

“He sucks at everything” Sam mumbled, earning a glare from the other man. “We better go get some food now, there’s literally nothing in the fridge except a can of tuna, some ketchup and packets of sour sauce from takeout awhile ago”

“Oof man”

The walk to the diner that he had decided on going to after he couldn’t be bothered going grocery shopping was a long one. Riley insisted on stopping for every dog they saw, to ask to stroke it. “Ri’ baby, we can’t keep stopping, we gotta get back to the dorm before it’s your bedtime”

The pout she sent him instantly melted his heart before he realised she knew exactly what she was doing and he readjusted his grip on her hand so she didn’t end up running away again like she did earlier.

“Ri’ what do you want?” He asked the child once the waitress had come over asking for their orders. She gave a nonchalant shrug and turned her attention back to the video that was playing on Bucky’s phone that he had given her for the wait. “M’kay so, can we get a,” he took a pause to take a quick glance at the kid’s menu on the table “chicken nuggets and chips please with… chocolate milkshake?”

Riley nodded and the waitress, who from the name tag on her apron, was named Elizabeth, began to write down both his and her order but halfway through gave a quick glance up to Bucky, but when he caught her cheeks flooded red that made his daughter snort.

“Is that all sir?”

“Riley shut up” he quietly told the girl as Elizabeth walked away with her head down. “She was flirting with you dad” she laughed making him jokingly nudge her across the table “Oi, and anyway she’s not my type munchkin”

“Well don’t be too loud, the creeps staring at you dad”

He didn’t mean to, but without thinking his head whipped round to instantly make eye contact with the woman who was biting her lip, her eyes now as big as plates. His cheeks heated furiously as he immediately turned back around to face his adorable giggling daughter. “You better like those chicken nuggets munchkin cause I’ve got to go through this to get them”

“I will dad, I like chickens”

“Riley, come on you gotta get some sleep” he groaned once she’d slid onto the sofa where he was writing his assignment last minute for the fifth time that night.

“But dad,” She whined and pulled on the sleeve of the college logo sweater he had pulled on without even thinking about it once they’d got home as he had only just realised he had a paper to write, “I’m not tired and I don’t want to be alone”

His eyes softened at the pleading look on her face that would get him to do anything she wanted him to “m’kay baby, how about we go into into the bedroom and you try to get some sleep while I finish this up”

She nodded enthusiastically and he picked up the study books and paper in one hand and Riley in the other, deep eye bags could be found on his face from the lack of sleep that he had spent pulling all-nighters working on college work and began to make his way into the small room that had a single bed pressed up against the wall with a mattress next to it, an abundance of blankets on both.

He set the small girl onto the single bed and lowered himself down into the smaller one, using the bed frame to press his back against and using a hardback book underneath the paper to rest on.

“Why do people stare at you?” Bucky only just heard Riley mumble as her eyes struggled to keep open. He stopped writing but kept his hand in the same place while grinder his teeth, wondering what to say. “Cause baby… people don’t really think that I should have you this young,” he struggled to find the words as he felt his daughter roll onto her back to listen “but they don’t understand that I love you a lot, don’t I munchkin?”

Riley giggled behind him and uttered a small yes. “At least they haven’t tried to take me away again”

The young man's breath hitched in the back of his throat at the memory flashed through his mind. They’d been watching a movie with Steve after their classes and a knock had sounded on the door.Apparently, Child services had been called by one of the students and they tried to take her away but he wouldn’t let them, they had threatened to take him to court because the living settings were not meant for a child but 17-year-old Steve had calmly spoken to them outside the room while James had been on the edge of a panic attack inside.

“Yeah, scared me Ri’” his horse voice answered back making her eyebrows scrunch in confusion “I’m not going anywhere dad. Well, unless I die but y’know”

He sent her a bitch face look over his shoulder which made her uncontrollably giggle. Bucky chuckled and set his attention back to the essay while absent mindedly talking to her about random things.

“Is Loki gonna be at the laser tag place?” She asked and added on excitedly “oooh can I come dad?!”

“Sure doll, let me tell the guys”

Buck: we got plus ones on this laser tag thing?

Bruce: whyyyy??

Thor: oooh if that is the case I would very much like to take my brother!

Nat: oh are you bringing Riley then?

Buck: yup

Steve: I don’t see why not

Tony: I’m off to speak to this really hot girl

Clint: what that spice girl?

Buck: do you mean pepper?

Clint: ah yes!

He chuckled at the screen and chucked his phone to the side while looking up to his daughter on the bed above him, going to tell her they approved before stopping and smiling to himself as he caught sight of her peaceful, sleeping form.

Without waking her up, he got off the mattress and tucked in the blankets, quietly laughing as he retrieved the earbuds she had borrowed in the diner from her pocket. “Night munchkin”

Bucky groaned as the ringing of his phone awoke him, the technology next to his ear from when he had fallen asleep sat up. “Wha’?”

It was so early in the morning that he didn’t even have the energy to think of a proper sentence, never mind say one.

Steve: hey guys make sure your ready, it starts an hour after school

Clint: Steve. School. Finishes. At. 6. Pm. What. Tf. Do. You. Mean. It. Starts. In. An. hour. After.

Nat: we thought you could do with a late start

Tony: fuck you Romanoff

Clint: ten bucks says she’s smirking rn

Buck: ughhh

Bruce: I feel exactly the same way

Buck: no you don’t. I spent up until 6 am doing that English essay I forgot about

Tony: oof

Bucky: I will physically be running on caffeine this morning so be ready

He took a look around the messy room before deciding he would clean it another day and raised himself onto his feet before making sure Riley was still on the single bed asleep. He made his way to the tiny kitchen that held a mini-fridge, microwave, kettle and an oven with two counters on one side to make himself a cup of coffee that he was depending on if he had to spend an hour of his day running around in sweaty gear and a fake gun while making sure his daughter didn’t run away to get some sort of snack.

“Fuck” he mumbled as the loud whirring of the kettle started, sure to wake Riley up. “I’m tired” he heard a voice groan behind him, making the man whirl around, instantly making eye contact with his daughter. Sighing out of relief and returning back to the drink he was previously making. “So am I doll, yet you can’t have coffee”

He made her go get dressed and brush her teeth while he had a mental breakdown over what he was going to do about the paper he didn’t manage to finish before he fell asleep last night.

“Dad,” Bucky looked up to find Riley once again dressed in a pair of Joggers and a baggy T-shirt that she’d dragged out of the very few clean clothes in her draw “someone’s messaging your laptop”

She struggled to hold up the open device that showed multiple emails from one of his professors questioning his performance in class for the recent weeks. He inwardly cursed and took the laptop from her to begin emailing her back, choosing to ignore the insults she had thrown at him and his daughter in the middle of it.

“She is so full of-“ he stopped halfway through the sentence, noticing that Riley was sat next to him, quietly playing a YouTube video on his phone. “Whatcha watching Ri’?” He asked, his attention still focusing on trying to be professional in the email back. “c- c-“ she struggled to pronounce the word so she passed it to him.

“Commentary channels?” The man asked with a laugh, thinking about how most parents wouldn’t even let their 4 child near a video like that but yet again he wasn’t like most parents. He was 20 and had to do this alone.

“Oh yeah”

“Come on munchkin, we gotta get to first period before we’re late” he told her and grabbed his backpack to quickly shove his college things in before glancing at the digital clock on his phone and scooping Riley up so they could get there quicker.

Halfway through the panicked running across campus, the small girl decided she needed a nap and fell asleep against his shoulder, making Natalia laugh as they passed.

As soon as he arrived in the classroom he knew it was a bad idea when 11 pair of eyes fell to his, heavily panting and holding an asleep 4-year-old.

“Sir he’s late” a girl, younger than him moaned to the teacher who was now shrugging his shoulders “I don’t care”

“But professor, why’d he bring the baby?”

Bucky had enough of everyone staring at him, he readjusted the bag on his back before making his way to the back of the class, sitting in an empty seat in between Sam and Tony and placed Riley on his lap.

“That’s a good question Jaimee, Barnes?”

“Couldn’t find anyone to look after her professor” he mumbled in response, making sure to be loud enough to hear. “No babysitter?”

“Can’t afford it sir”

He didn’t once make eye contact with anyone in the room, instead putting his attention on the books that he was bringing out of his bag. “You alright man?” Tony whispered across the desk and flicked a pen at him, “Oi” Bucky hissed as the metal came in contact with the side of his head making Sam laugh loudly at him.

“Dad,” a mumble was heard quietly, making the older man look at his daughter, eyes that were previously closed were now looking up at his wide with pleading “I’m hungry”

If he was anywhere else in the world he would have sworn loudly, but right now he was in a class with 10 other students and his daughter. “Okay baby, but you're gonna have to wait for a while, we’re in my class but I’ll get you something after okay?”

She nodded and rested her hair back against his chest, making him smile slightly as he went back to taking notes of the class. “I’ve got skittles,” Sam held out the family-sized packet of sugary sweets making Riley do grabby hands towards it. Without asking Sam gave her it, earning a goofy smile from the girl. “Thank you dude but she’s literally gonna get the biggest sugar rush possible now”

“Aha, can’t wait to see that”

By halfway through the period Riley was already rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, on the spot next to Bucky’s chair, his hand holding hers to make sure she didn’t run up to the front and distract everyone. “Dad, are you going to work tonight?”

“Yeah munchkin, not for long though, you can stay with Stevie. How about that?”

“Yeah, m’kay”

Suddenly the professor spoke up, directing his attention to Bucky “Barnes, the symbol Sb stands for stibium or stibnite. What is the modern name of this element?”

“That doesn’t sound like English dad” Riley loudly whispered to him, making the class laugh, “and what do you think the answer is?”

The girl pondered for a second and looked at her dad with seriousness drawn upon her features “...tell me,”

“Laser in the house!” Clint exclaimed in excitement once everyone had found their way to the front of campus where they’d agreed to meet.

“I like lasers,” Riley gushed while smiling brightly making most of the young adults chuckle, Loki however, did not. “Why did you have to bring me?” The man grumbled, sending a death glare towards his brother.

“Why are you dressed like that?”

“Riley no-“

“Did you go through childhood trauma to endure this?”

“Ri’ you can’t ask-“

“Why is there a child?” Loki asked as if he had only just noticed she was there. “She is Barnes’ daughter brother” Thor said and gently patted her head, making her scowl.

“You have a daughter?”

“I’ve had her for 4 years dude”

“Oh”

Steve grabbed his phone from his pocket and glanced at the time “guys we’ve gotta be there in half an hour we better get goin’”

“Alright Rogers, you really do like to keep track of time don’t you?” Tony asked and rolled his eyes making Nat nudge him in the ribs. “Tony, I’m not that old”

“You're 21, everyone else is 20 punk” Bucky teased him but stopped when he sent him a death glare. “Erm, I’m not 20.” The young girl pointed out while everyone else started making their way to the entertainment place. “Smart girl Ri’”

“Wait, do we need to decide the teams?” Bruce asked everyone once Bucky and Riley had caught up with the rest. “Ooooh,” Clint exclaimed with wide eyes “dibs on Natasha! She’s got good aim.”

“I’m gonna stick with you. Power team” Bucky whispered down to the stupidly smiling girl as she nodded furiously. By the time everyone had chosen their teammates and managed to agree, the group had arrived. “This’ll be great” Bruce sighed once they’d caught sight of the room of light-up vests with attached laser guns.

“Rules,” a middle-aged man who looked like he’d given up on life, walked into the room with a clipboard in hand “No Running, No Physical Contact, Hold Laser with Both Hands, No Climbing, Players must be careful when manoeuvring around interior arena walls, Please let us know if any of your guests suffer from the following: Asthma, epilepsy or suffer from seizures caused by fog or strobe lights.”

Everyone was quiet for a second before Steve quietly spoke up with a blush “I have asthma, sir.”

The worker took a pause and pondered for a moment, as though this had never happened in his whole 68 years of working there, “just… don’t start a fire alright?”

They all nodded in agreement, just happy that he’d been let in, and began to enter the massive room where the game was about to take place. “Right, so, let’s not rugby tackle people like you did last time,” Steve said and mostly directed it to Thor who smiled sheepishly “cause- err, there’s a kid, yeah, Riley, that’s it”

Bucky chuckled and picked up the fake laser gun as the lights began to darken, “let’s get this party started”

As soon as the words left his mouth, chaos ensured, young adults setting off running to find a place to set-up camp. As he wanted to be fast, Bucky quickly picked up Riley and began to run towards a pillar so he could hide behind it, so he’s able to get a good view of people.

“How does it work?” Riley whispered from the spot of her back pressed against his chest so she could also see and indicated towards the gun. “Gotta put your finger on the trigger” he instructed and took ahold of her index finger and brought it over to the weapon, placing the rest of her hand on the handle while her other one held the underneath of the top part, trying not to drop it.

The whole room was silent for a good 5 minutes before Bucky decided to make a move, taking hold of the collar of her jacket to gently pull her up with him. Not holding Riley’s hand as she would have ended up dropping the laser gun if she didn’t have two hands on it.

The two of them scouted out the place trying to be quiet so they didn’t get caught. Suddenly, making them jump, a loud zapping sounded in the distance, indicating that someone had found an enemy. He began to run away from the sound, after making sure his daughter was following and attempting to find somewhere to hide again but this time he didn’t find a deserted place.

“Aha!” Nat yelled and jumped out from behind a pillar while aiming the laser at Bucky’s chest. His panicked yelling and screaming filled the air as he made a run for it, completely forgetting about his teammate left behind and the rule “no running”. Suddenly, before he could brace himself his body went flying, his foot getting stuck on a stray shoe that belonged to Thor. At the same time Steve had jumped out, meaning to get the man in the chest, but instead Bucky had landed on him, using him to muffle the landing, earning an “ow man...” in return.

Bucky wanted to move, he really did, but he just couldn’t. He was in a trance, his and Steve’s baby blue eyes made eye contact, without knowing what he was doing, Steve’s body involuntarily leant up: closer to the younger man. His lips never looked more inviting, but all of a sudden a yell broke out in the room.

“Dad! Help! Nat nearly got me!”

The father scrambled up off the floor, his mind going a million miles an hour about what just happened and why it was wrong. He was his best friend. He should only see him as a friend.

Without meaning to, he ran away from him, not bothering to even spare Steve a second glance in search of his daughter, who was now cowered in one of the room's corners, trying not to get shot. Bucky chuckled slightly at the tactic and crossed the room, luckily not being noticed by Tony and Nat who were having a shoot off at each other from their opposite ends in the room.

“Nat nearly got you Ri’?”

“M’ yeah and you weren’t there.”

Guilt coursed through the mans veins as he remembered that he’d left her, but before his mind could go wondering to the events after it, he stopped himself, “sorry munchkin”

“Is’ okay, just don’t do it again dad”

He silently laughed at the sincerity in her voice and grabbed her hand to lead her away from the battle scene so they could get somebody else in the laser tag game. In quiet discussions they settled on Bruce, the one who was most likely to not be paying attention, and if he was it would still be easy to take aim without him seeing.

“Come on Ri, we got this.”

@donutloverxo @xolovegrace @rooskaya-yelena @deephideoutmilkshake @kidney9-9 @marvel-ous-hobbit @snarky--starky @rae-is-typing @stargazingfangirl18 @canadianhufflepuffavenger @herecomesthewriterwitch @every-marveler-ever

#bucky x oc!daughter #bucky x oc #bucky x daughter #Avengers college AU #college au #bucky barnes x daughter #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky oneshot #bucky barnes x oc

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