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clockwayswrites · 7 months

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A Broken Sort of Normal, Part 14

WC: 2416, Masterpost CW: Panic attack

Endless, convoluted Uno games aside (really, who added tarot cards to Uno?), getting to know Wally’s friends was good. Danny liked them and hanging out with them was easier than he thought it would be, but he felt a little bad every time. Whenever he was there they had to keep masks on and that had to suck. They started dressing down, like Wally did, but it was always masks on for the heroes that wore them. They insisted it wasn’t an issue, but Danny made sure to sometimes have obligations that came up at the same time. He wanted to give them the chance to hang out together as themselves, without the hero suits.

Danny knew how important that was.

After several months and a bit of stumbling, it all found a rhythm. Danny had date nights and nights with the Titans. He also had nights out with coworkers or at the game store. That wasn’t to say it was all easy. Setting up the Justice League Response Team was hard, sometimes impossible seeming, work. There were arguments and issues and more red tape than Danny thought possible. His real job was also exhausting at times. Being a field medic meant dealing with injured and dead which never got easier, though he was grateful to have Wally to go to on the worst days. And then, of course, there was the lightning incident.

It really wasn’t his best moment, in his opinion.

Wally was so excited.

“Come on, come on!” he said as he dragged Danny by the hand. He had been lying in ambush to snag Danny right outside of the door of meeting room B3, otherwise known as the Response Team Lair. (They had been encouraged, repeatedly, to stop calling it a lair. Apparently that a bit too villainous for the comfort of some heroes.)

“What’s the hurry?” Danny asked, purposefully dragging his feet a little just to watch Wally bounce up and down impatiently.

“I’ve been working on a new power! I’ve really gotten it down and I want to show you. So come,” Wally pulled at Danny’s arm, “on already!”

Danny laughed and stopped fighting Wally, who almost stumbled with their sudden movement forward.

“Are we going to a training room then?” Danny asked. While over the months, the main response team planners had gained a lot of freedom throughout the Watchtower, there were still a number of areas they either weren’t allowed or weren’t supposed to go without supervision and the training rooms was one of those. Danny had been a few times with the Titans, but usually it was just to grab someone for a game or a night at Wally’s place.

“Yep! No one is stupid enough to risk the Big Bat’s wrath practicing powers like that outside the training room and this is a new power. I’m going to keep you in the observation room and everything just to be safe.”

“My hero,” Danny said with feeling.

“Always,” Wally replied with a grin. “And speaking of heroes, N is going to be there running the sim for me. Are you up to a meal after? Just something casual at my place with the usual peep?”

Danny thought about that honesty. He knew that Wally was asking because he actually wanted to know if Danny could handle being that social tonight. It was still hard sometimes. “Yeah, it would be good to see them. It’s been a few weeks with how busy things have been.”

“More like several.”

“Several?” Danny asked. He felt chastised even though he knew that’s not what Wally was trying to do. “Well, then definitely yes. I hadn’t realized it had been so long.”

“It’s okay, they all understand. You’re really in the thick of it trying to get the last things done for the response team. We all get being busy.”

“Yeah,” Danny said and let out a huff of air. “I guess you would. But a nice night with friends sounds good. Just please tell me there have been no more rules added to Uno.”

“I can make no such promises,” Wally said with a grin as they stepped through a door. “Nightwing! I have your observer for you.”

“No, not the Danny Fenton? I must be seeing things! Flash, take me to medical, have me tested,” Nightwing said, swooning into Wally’s arms.

“Yeah yeah, I get it, it’s been a little long since we saw each other,” Danny groused, but he couldn’t help the smile at the dramatics.

“It has,” Nightwing said from where he was still draped in Wally’s arms. That really couldn’t be comfortable, but Nightwing looked just as at ease as if he was standing normally. “But are we on for dinner tonight?”

“We are.”

“Yes!” Nightwing said, springing up. “Okay speedy, let’s get this show on the road! I’ll message the others while you warm up. Just signal to me when you’re ready.”

“Sure!” Wally chirped. He pecked Danny on the cheek before he sped off.

In a, well, flash, Wally was on the other side of the thick, blast proof window and stretching.

Danny shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I haven’t ignored him too badly, right? I’ve just been so caught up in finalizing everything. Not that that’s an excuse. I can, like, set alarms for myself. My days have been all thrown off not going to my actual job this last bit…”

“Hey, Danny, no,” Nightwing said. “Would he like to have seen you a little more? Probably, but it’s not like he hasn’t and you two text plenty. He gets that you’re busy, we all do. He’s been good, really.”

“Okay, good,” Danny said, making sure to smile for Nightwing. “I just… don’t want to do wrong by him, you know?”

“Why do you think we all like you so much?” Nightwing teased and bumped their shoulders together. “You’ve been good for him.”

“He’s been better for me, believe me.”

“Luckily not a competition,” Nightwing said. “You really good for a dinner with the group tonight? If you need some time alone with Flash, I can’t say the others are busy and make up an emergency.”

Danny shook his head. “No, dinner with everyone, well, everyone who can make it really does sound nice. They’re making us take the weekend off anyways, so I can just stay over and spend tomorrow with him too..”

“He’d like that I’m sure,” Nightwing agreed. He pulled out his phone typed for a bit until Wally’s voice came through the intercom.

“All good here!”

“You still want the Sigma B pattern?”

“Yeah! That let’s me build up best.”

Nightwing nodded and pulled some things up on the computer before counting down for the training to start. It was fun to be able to sit back and actually watch Wally in action for once instead of having to work. The other really was something.

“The regular training bots have to be taken out in certain ways. Flash is going for pressing one of the buttons,” Nightwing explained. “Training for precise hits helps us heroes who use hand to hand not use too much force on regular people.”

“And keeps the repair budget down?”

Nightwing laughed. “That too. Okay, so he should be getting close now, watch the sphere on the wall there.”

“Close to wha—” Danny swallowed the last part of his question as his mind blanked.

His head banged against something metal and cool. A locker. He was in the locker room. When had he gotten into the locker room?

Someone reached for him and Danny jerked back again, pressing into the little gap between the metal locker and the wall that he had squeezed into. Wally, Wally was paused, hand outstretched. Wally was, Wally had— Danny squeezed his tightly closed so not to see the look of hurt on Wally’s face. It was just that… he swore he could feel still feel the electricity buzzing along Wally’s fingertips.

Wally had shot lightning out of his hands.

“Just… I don’t… don’t touch me right now, please?” Danny whispered.

“Okay, I yeah, okay babe,” Wally said. He sounded heartbroken.

There was some shuffling, footsteps heading away, and the whoosh of the door.

Danny bit his lip to choke back the noise wanting to pull its way out of his throat, but that only served to make his breath catch and stutter in his chest.

“Hey, Danny,” a new voice said later; an hour, a minute? Danny didn’t know. It took Danny another moment to place it as Nightwing. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to try to touch you. I’m just worried about your breathing there. If I count, can you follow along with me?”

Danny didn’t have it in him to nod, but did what he could to follow along. The logical, trained part of his mind knew that even if he didn’t feel like he could breathe, he had to try for even breaths. It would get easier, nothing was actually wrong with his lungs.

“There you go. Do you think you can open your eyes now?”

Spots bloomed across his vision from how tightly he had been squeezing his eyes shut. Danny blinked them away.

“You’re doing so good. Can you talk?”

“Sorry,” Danny rasped.

“Hey, no apologizing. I want you to just keep breathing. I know you’re with me now.”

Danny managed a nod, let his eyes close again as he focused on breathing. When he was feeling a bit more stable, he moved out of where he had tucked himself away.

Nightwing smiled at him. “How about we get you out of here?”

Danny gave a hysterical little laugh. “What, no breakdowns in the Justice League locker room?”

“Oh, no, we’ve all had breakdowns in the locker rooms,” Nightwing said. He got an arm behind Danny and pulled him up. “But that’s how I know it’s not that comfortable. Are you up to Zetaing?”

“As long as you don’t expect me to think,” Danny said as he leaned, helplessly and heavily, into Nigthwing’s support. “Fuck I hate panic attacks.”

Nightwing easily took the weight and started them moving. “The adrenaline crash after them is really something, huh?”

“Yeah, hate it,” Danny agreed. He was aware of them moving through the halls of the Watchtower, but everything was still a bit of a blur.

They stopped near the Zeta tubes where Nightwing grabbed a little bundle. Danny frowned at the earplugs he was handed.

“Your senses are going to be off and the noise of the city might trigger you again. Put these on,” Nightwing said, settling sunglasses on Danny’s nose, “and the earplugs in.”

Danny gave a little nod and did as he was told. Then he obediently tucked into the hoodie he’d been handed. He tucked his nose into it. It smelled like Wally. Nightwing tugged the hood up and moved them to the portal. It wasn’t until they were piling into a taxi that Danny realized that Nightwing put clothing over his suit too. Danny glanced away from Nightwing’s face, now clad only in dark sunglasses.

“Wally’s place?” Danny asked, finally realizing where they were when Nightwing opened the door to the apartment.

He shrugged. “I don’t know where you live and I figured you’d be comfortable here. At least I assume the freak out wasn’t about about Wally as a whole person?”

“A— gods no,” Danny said. He set the sunglasses on Wally’s little side table inside the door. The earplugs got stuffed in a pocket before he rubbed at his face as he made his way to the couch. He felt more terrible every passing moment. “How upset is Wally?”

“He’s not upset at you.”

“Yeah, but…”

The couch dipped on the other side. “Pretty upset. He hates that he hurt you.”

“He didn’t hurt me. I just,” Danny dropped his hands with a sigh and was left blinking at an unmasked Nightwing.

“Hi, Dick Grayson.”

“Oh great, now I know more heroes’ secret IDs. Is Batman going to come and boomerang me for this?”

“Baterang.”

“Baterang, really?”

“I was nine,” Dick said with a little shrug.

Danny snorted. “Don’t pretend you still don’t think it’s a great name, Dick.”

“I can’t tell if you’re insulting me or calling me my name.”

“Can’t it be both?”

Dick chuckled and finally sunk back into the couch. “Good to see this hasn’t slowed down your sass any.”

“I’m told it’s one of my best features,” Danny said with a laugh. The sound was still slightly unhinged sounding, he knew, but he was settling down at least. “Thanks for, you know.”

“It’s no biggie, really. We’ve all had them. Is having Wally close going to set you off again or…?”

“No, I don’t think so? I should be good?” He hoped he would be at least.

Nightwing, Dick, eyed him for a moment before texting something on his phone. A second later Wally was standing in front of the couch.

“You’re not supposed to use your powers out of uniform,” Danny reprimanded on instinct.

“Yeah, fuck that. Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about the lightning freaking you out because of your accident. That’s what it was, right? Babe—” Wally reached out for him and then pulled himself back.

Danny smiled, sadly, and held open his arms. Wally basically tackled him in a hug.

“I am so, so sorry.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Danny said, tucking himself against Wally. “I mentioned what the accident was, what, once? Months and months ago? Of course you didn’t think about it.”

“I should have.”

“You can’t remember everything, Wally.”

“I can if it’s about you.”

A flash of a camera went off. Dick lowered his phone unrepentantly. “You two are such saps. Should I call off the others, order you some food, and get out of your hair?”

Danny knew they would, they would all change their plans if they thought that’s what he needed right then. But… “No. No, I think… I think people would be good right now. Better than quiet and getting in my own head, you know?”

“Yeah, I do,” Dick said with far too much familiarity.

Danny felt his phone buzzing with the group chat messages Dick was sending. A little smile tugged at his lips, despite everything. He tucked his face into the crook of Wally’s neck.

“You going to be okay?” Wally asked, voice barely a whisper.

“Of course I will. I have you, hero.”

---

AN: He has Wally, everything will be okay, right? 🥺

I know I know, every identity reveal comes after a panic attack. That's just Danny's sort of luck in this fic! But hey, he's got some good friends out of it!

Hope you enjoyed it and stay delightful, darlings!

#dp x dc #abson #quick death #danny fenton/wally west

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sucroseswife · 7 months

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Seriously, don’t break the law

Wriothesley x gn! Reader [part 1]

Wriothesley with a reader who keeps breaking the law on accident, continuously getting multiple small sentences. Despite being a relatively good citizen, your run ins with Furina’s more obscure laws repeatedly lands you in the Fortress.

It started off small. Wriothesley didn’t pay much attention to your first arrival, as he receives many criminals every day. You were in for the small offense of naming your dog “furina”, thinking it would be cute.

He got a good laugh out of reading your trial record though. You had no attorney and no defense other than demanding why such a stupid rule was even in place (“it’s not even offensive!” You had cried to the court to no avail)

Poor Neuvillette said nothing, sentencing you to 2 nights at the fortress of meropide with a sigh

(He had found you later, offering a small apology and suggesting you read up on Fontaine’s… stranger laws to avoid such accidents again.)

During your two night stay, you only met the duke once—

You peaked your head into the infirmary, subtly trying to check if this was the right room. The cut on your hand throbbed with pain but you ignored it the best you could. Those machines were more dangerous than you thought. Inside were two figures, one significantly shorter than the other.

…was that a kid? You honestly couldn’t tell, but she looked no older than 11. Perhaps she was the child of that much taller figure who was- quite good looking, actually-

“Gonna stand there all day?” The good looking man asked, raising an eyebrow. Fuck.

“Sorry!” You said, rushing in. “Are you, uh… the nurse?”

Before he could respond, your attention was drawn to the smaller figure who swiftly took your hand, an expression of concern on her face.

“I am the head nurse, Sigewine. Please have a seat and I’ll start treatment right away!”

You couldn’t help but swoon over how cute the little melusine was, her professionalism contrasting her appearance. As she ran away to fetch some gauze, your eyes trailed back to mr. Tall Hot Man. He was observing you silently. When you met his gaze, he smiled in a wolfish manner.

“You’re y/n, I take it?”

You nodded. “And you are…?”

“Wrioth-” “He’s the Duke of the fortress of meropide, Wriothesley!” Sigewine butted in, beginning to clean your wounds. You paled. Had you really been thinking about your warden like a piece of meat? …maybe you were a criminal after all.

Wriothesley looked mildly annoyed at being outed as the Duke, but quickly let it go. His smile returned.

“I’ve read your file… seems you’re only with us for another day. We don’t usually see such short sentences around here.”

“Oh, yes… well I hardly committed a crime at all!” you said, anger and indignation returning to you once more.

“Hm…” he said, pretending to consider. “breaking the law is breaking the law, I’m afraid.” Wriothesley took great satisfaction n the way you spluttered, rushing to defend yourself.

“No really, what kind of laws are these?! Even the Iudex couldn’t explain— and the legal codex he gave me… ‘ketchup shall only be used as a condiment and not consumed by itself’? Are you serious?”

Wriothesley wanted to laugh at the image of the overworked Chief Justice having to enforce Furina’s questionable laws, but held back. Sigewine had finished her work, patting your hand gently.

“Y/n, please use this medicine to clean your wound twice a day. And don’t forget to change your bandages.”

You nodded. “Thank you, miss Sigewine. Am I all set then?”

She nodded happily. “Yep! Stay safe please!”

You smiled at Wriothesley, slightly sheepish after your outburst. “Sorry, please don’t extend my sentence for yelling.”

He didn’t look like he was going to extend anything, though. His expression was one of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite place. Before you could leave, he gently took your injured hand in his, inspecting the cleaned and covered wound. He made a small noise of disapproval before speaking.

“If you ever end up back here— which I hope will not happen… there’s no need for you to work at the production zone. Just find me and I’ll figure something out.”

You blushed slightly before nodding. “Alright”

Was that normal? Didn’t all prisoners have to work?

Well, it didn’t matter. Not like you were planning to get arrested again. You said your goodbyes to the very beautiful and generous duke before leaving the infirmary.

Sigewine immediately knew something was up. The girl is an expert in reading human emotions

From the moment you had stepped in, your eyes were practically glued to Wriothesley, and his glued to you

Not to mention how the duke’s demeanor had softened considerably as he continued talking to you… and his suggestion at the end?! She had never seen him offer anything like that before.

Yes, there was no doubt in Sigewine’s mind that his grace was more into you than he was letting on

It’s such a shame you would be released the next day, never to come back to the fortress again!

…or so she thought

Unfortunately for you, your bad luck with Fontaine’s law had only just begun.

Notes: I want him sooo bad omg. Ignore the fact that neuv would probably never sentence someone to meropide for a crime this small it’s for the plot ok

#wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #fluff #comedy #crack

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

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NCIS // Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw knows when his soon to be wife shows up randomly on Friday evening at the Hard Deck it can’t be good. But just how bad could things really be, right?

Warnings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x NCIS reader. Angst, Fluff. A little bit of action.

Word Count: 8.2k

Author Note: I’m glad you all had such a positive response to this idea. Here’s a one shot to say thank you for being absolute legends. Might even be open to doing more if this does well.

“What’s got you all twisted?” Rooster smirked as he watched Hangman glare down the pool table. Missing his shot by a mile. The usual confidence ridden aviator had seemingly shrunk into a hermit style shell for the last half an hour or so. Rooster had walked in half way through the game. Settling into his surroundings with a beer and a side of fries on the way.

Hangman didn’t even bother with a response, simply ignoring the question all together as he lined up another shot at redemption.

“Oh he tried to make a move on the civ sitting at the bar—she really knocked him down a peg.” Javy tried to hide his content. He always enjoyed when his best friend learnt a lesson or two. Not everyone was obsessed with Jake Hangman Seresin—and quite frankly? Sometimes he needed to be humbled. And humble Hangman you did indeed.

“Which one?” Rooster asked as he turned around, his eyes immediately landing on you as you sat by yourself. Content with the beer in front of you. Clearly working a case. “You know what? Never mind—I already have a gut feeling.” Finishing the rest of the beer Hangman had so graciously ordered last round, Rooster really did try and play it cool as he took strides to get to you. Trying to bury the fact if he had to he’d move goddamn mountains to get to you. His best friend. His fiancé. None of the team knew about Bradley Bradshaw's love life. He hadn’t found the right time to introduce you to the squad. His colleagues, friends. He was trying to, honestly. But with your line of work? It was becoming increasingly hard to pin you down.

As Rooster made his way over to you by the bar. Pushing past people who got in his way absentmindedly—you spotted him. Sending him a smirk that he’d missed seeing in person. FaceTime just didn’t do your beauty justice. Looking at your fiancé so helplessly stunned for only a split second before you forced yourself to remain calm. Rooster thought back to the first time he met you.

You hated being on carriers. For an NCIS agent, being aboard was a big part of your job description. It was something that couldn't be avoided, although you really did try. It wasn't that you weren't good on ships or got nauseous from the motion of the ocean, no. It was something far less exhilarating than throwing up at any given moment in front of whoever had fallen victim to the sight of your breakfast, lunch and or dinner making a quick escape.

It was the fact you never knew where on earth you were fucking going. And that really sucked.

Bradley Bradshaw had seen you going around in circles for the last forty five minutes. He’d been watching you from a distance. First he saw you when he was going over his Super Hornet. Checking its systems, the landing gear, the tags. All the good stuff. Then he saw you in the galley, looking confused and almost overwhelmed with the amount of crew that had filled in for dinner. And the last time Rooster saw you before he decided enough was enough? Was when he saw you heading down towards the engine room… What the hell were you doing? Were you–lost?

“Ma’am you aren’t lost are you?” Bradley Bradshaw considered himself a confident man when it came to talking to women, but for a moment you made it hard to formulate another sentence when you turned around to face him. Completely knocking the wind out of him with the way you looked so helplessly stunned. “Because if you are, I'm more than happy to help.” Yep. That was the moment Bradley Bradshaw knew he wanted you in his life.

“I'm good, thanks.” Shrugging the sailor off, it wasn't that you didn't want help. You just had too much pride to admit you were in fact. Lost. Rooster watched with an all knowing smirk as you turned around, heading straight to what he knew to be a deadend towards the laundry room. Unless that was what you had been looking for the entire time? Bradley knew you would have to pivot your way back past him. Opting to stay put, leaning against the hull with his arms crossed waiting for you to make your appearance.

Which you inevitably had to do because you were fucking lost. Sending the sailor with the cute smirk a look when you met him back where he stood originally. Stopping right next to Bradley as he smirked down at you. All Knowing.

“Okay, so maybe I am lost.” He smelt of pear and freesia. The delectable fresh scent that could be bottled and sold. It reminded you of home. “I'm looking for my room, 507.” Bradley raised his eyebrows in disbelief. Had you been wondering the entirety of the carrier trying to look for the dorms and bunks and hadn’t bothered to stop and ask a single soul for help. “The captain said my stuff had already been dropped off but I'm so disorientated.”

“First time on a carrier ma’am?” Rooster asked kindly as he walked with you in the complete opposite direction to where you had originally been going. Huh, you really were lost.

“Would you believe me if I said no?” Rooster chuckled quietly to himself at your response. “No, I do this more often than not, I should be used to this whole, ant hill.” You tried to explain as you walked side by side, not really in a hurry to get where you were going. Rooster couldn't have known you were NCIS. You were just in your blue jeans, white T and oversized corduroy jacket. There was nothing about you that screamed, ‘Hey I’m a federal agent, stop drop and put your damn hands up.’ “But I do prefer frigates, the occasional patrol boat.”

“So what brought you aboard the HMAS Carlton?” Rooster wasn’t expecting the answer you gave him. From time to time the Navy would accompany researchers and scientists to remote islands, he just assumed perhaps you were the latest one. But no.

“Uh, I’m here making sure that Clarence Diver who was stung by that group of Irukandji jellyfish was just that.” There were some suspicious toxins found in his bloodstream. “I’m Special Agent Y/n Gibbs with the NCIS.” Oh my fucking Christ Rooster was sure he was going into cardiac arrest. Why did you have to be NCIS? “Nice to meet you—“ Clearing your thirst as you paused in your stride. Sticking your hand out to shake the sailors hand who’d stopped to help you.

“Uh Bradley ma’am, Bradley Bradshaw.” Rooster stuck his hand out to meet yours. “Everyone calls me Rooster—“ You weren’t sure when Rooster had dropped your hand, or when you had started walking again. But you had. Side by side.

“Let me guess, you some kinda of cadet? A semen perhaps?” This was Rooster's first posting on a carrier. He was fresh out of the academy and had been abroad for six months. You had a glint in your eye, something worth exploring even though the idea of pursuing a Naval Criminal Investigation Agent scared the ever living Christ out of him.

“I uh—I fly an F-18 Agent Gibbs, I’m a Naval Aviator.” He was so proud of himself. I mean who else was around to be proud of him? So he had to be, for his own sanity. Stopping right in front of the door that read 507. “Guess this is where I leave you—“ news flash, it wasn't. Instantly smitten by the way you softly nodded in response. Pressing your lips together with a small frown.

“Yeah I guess it is huh?” Silence lingered for a moment as you worked up the courage to ask Rooster to hang around. Making up a totally fabricated but believable excuse he’d later find out was all so you could spend a little more time with him. “But now I’ve got no idea how to get back to the galley and I seem to have a pretty good tour guide.”

“Special Agent Gibbs, what on earth are you doing here?” Rooster taunted your official title as he slung his arm around your shoulders. Slumped over the bar as your eyes scanned the bar like a Hawk. “Heard you put Hangman in his place?”

“What the hell is a Hangman?” Your hand came up to grab Roosters softly, your thumb softly working to massage his palm. Turning your head to gently leave a subtle yet lingering kiss on his knuckles. “Oh wait—“ You remembered from conversations you’d had with Bradley in the past. “He’s the guy right, the super cocky one?” Clicking your fingers and squeezing your eyes tight as you tried to place a name to a call sign. “Jack, No—Jake!” Beaming, Bradley kissed your temple.

The sight of Bradshaw and you hitting it off so well sent Jake into a fit. Until he realised you must have been the girl Rooster had been talking about after the uranium mission. The one he wasn’t going to let get away.

“Woah look at you go detective, case closed in a whole minute.” Bradley taunted as he stood beside your barstool. “But seriously, as good as it is to see you here—you can’t be here for something good, it’s Friday baby—“ It was true. Usually wherever you ended up in the United States or on any US naval vessel didn’t usually come with good tidings. The Hard Deck in Miramar was no exception to that rule.

“You know that body that washed up about a week ago a few clicks up the beach?” You mumbled into the neck of your beer bottle as you brought it to your lips. Taking a small sip. “Intelligence believes the man responsible for that is here—and of course where else is there to go in Fraightertown but the most popular hang out point?”

“And you didn't bother to let me know you were coming?” Rooster teased as his hand slipped up your side, featherlike. Leaving goosebumps to rise in the wake of his fingertips. “Could’ve used the heads up.”

“Why? Need a change of pants, Lieutenant?’ It was the way you implied you so easily got Rooster where he needed to be that had his head spinning. You weren't wrong and he surely was feeling a little more restricted. But how could he not be when you were looking so fine. “Pretty sure I've got a pair of tracksuit pants in my carry on that might fit–might be pushing it though.” Winking as you took another sip of your beer. “Think they're grey even–” Roosters hand brushed against your hip. His eyes widened quickly at the realisation. Holy shit you were packing?

“You don’t have a gun in here do you?” Patting your shoulders, Bradley let his hands travel down your back, your gun Halsted. “Shit—you can’t bring a gun in here!!” Rooster's eyes bugged out of his head even more as he sat down beside you on the empty bar stool. “You gonna pepper the place or something? what the hell!” Guns always made Rooster a little uneasy and uncomfortable. But you were still caught up on his first statement.

“You know I’m a federal agent right?” Reminding your soon to be husband of your career choice. “I can bring a gun anywhere I damn please—“ Not that you would, but the idea that you could always did something weird to Rooster. Mentally and sexually.

“You scare the shit out of me.” He should have corrected himself, it wasn’t you that scared him. It was your damn job. Everyone he’d ever met had always told him what he did for a living had to be frightening. But you? Something about the way you so effortlessly did your job without a care in the world, blasé and effective? That scared Rooster. That was terrifying.

“Then leave me to do my job.” Rooster wrapped his leg around one of the legs of your bar stool. Dragging you closer to where he sat. He needed to be closer, needed you closer. “Rooster, honey—I’m in the middle of something here.” You played it off that Rooster was being an annoyance, but really? You loved the cat and mouse dynamic you always had. Loved him with all your heart.

“You got back up in here?” Bradley’s voice softened as his eyes trailed from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes. Drinking in the sight of you. It was out of worry that he asked, a deep rooted concern for your well-being. “I’m not leaving this stool if you don’t have back up.”

“DiNozzo is by the jukebox.” Tilting your head Dinozzo’s way Bradley followed the direction you had pointed him in. A small wave of peace lapping at his heart. “I’m fine Roo, you don’t have to worry about me—“ You were about to mention the van out the front that held more agents, but Rooster didn't let you finish before he was interrupting.

“Doesn’t stop me though.” Rooster was quick to quip, leaning in closer to kiss your forehead as you ducked to hide your smirk. Cheeks heating with the love that flooded your system. “Worry about you all the time.”

You and Rooster had been together for a total of three weeks when he first got a real glimpse into just how dangerous your job could really be. How it so easily threatened to take you away from him. He’d been called to TopGun. An elite school for the top one percent of pilots. Its purpose was to teach the lost art of aerial combat and to ensure that the handful of men and women who graduated were the best fighter pilots in the world.

As Rooster went about his day, training exercise after the other—Admirial Bates was calling him down with urgency.

“Theres someone on the line for you calling from the Veterans affair’s medical centre—“ Rooster couldn’t place that hospital geographically until Warlock continued. “Seems as though your a registered emergency contact for a Y/n Gibbs?” Washington, that’s where the Veterans affairs hospital was.

“Uh—yeah.” Rooster couldn’t think straight. “I'm clear for landing?” He asked range control before he made any effort to turn around. With a confirmed green light Rooster headed in. He was in the administration building of the base in no time. His chest panting. A thin layer of sweat on his forehead. Panic rising to the surface as he held the phone to his ear.

“This is Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw—“

“Hi Bradley, I’m just calling to let you know we’ve had a miss Gibbs present to the emergency department with a bullet wound to her left thigh—“ Rooster swore he forgot how to breathe as his knuckles went white as the sheer hip he held around the phone. “She’s had to go in for surgery but we’re incredibly hopeful it’s a set standard procedure, just need to remove some of the shrapnel that broke apart.”

“Can you get her to call me when she’s out?” All he wanted to do was hear your voice. “Is she okay?” When did he start crying? Why were his cheeks wet? Blinking away the tears that still threatened to spill over his waterline.

“Absolutely—” The admin assistant chuckled to herself, remembering how reluctant you’d been. “She walked herself in very reluctantly.” Rooster rolled his eyes at the thought of you not taking care of yourself. Of fucking course you’d shug this off as no big deal. “An older man brought her in, signed as Anthony DiNozzo?” That checked out, he’d been your partner since you transferred to your dads division. “Shes in good spirits and good hands, should be out shortly–ill get her to give you abuzz when she's out and feeling a little less dazed.”

That's exactly what the nurse had done. Once you were feeling up to it you called Bradley from your cell. Sitting alone in your hospital room–they wanted to keep you in overnight for observation. You understood, but home just seemed like a much better place to be. Besides, you still had work to do.

“Are you alright? What the hell happened!?” Rooster bellowed into his phone as he sat on the bench in the locker room, he was just finishing up for the day.

“Hi baby, nice to hear your voice too–” You taunted with a slight groan as you tried to move your leg out from under the lightweight blanket. “Im fine, just need to work on my reflexes a little.”

“You were shot Y/n I think you need to work on more than your reflexes, perhaps your proximity to people who want to kill you?” Rooster didn't mean to snap at you, he was just worried. “Since when am I your emergency contact anyway? I thought it would have been your dad or something?”

“Well I mean if you don't wanna be I can change it?” Your tone had softened as you looked down at your leg, wondering how differently this conversation would have been going if that bullet had hit you somewhere else. Or if this conversation would be happening at all. “I just thought you might wanna be.”

“No I do–” Bradley paused for a moment as he swallowed the lump in his chest. “I just worry about you.” He knew that when he first met you you were only a rooky, that you'd get assigned mundane cases that weren't all that life threatening and serious. Like the Irukandji jellyfish guy who'd been doing drugs onboard the Carlton. But as the years went on and you gained more confidence and experience, the less and less you were assigned the meek role of crossing T’s and dotting i’s. You were a full blown field agent and until the moment Bradley Bradshaw got the call to say you'd been injured? He hadnt really put alot of thought into it. “I guess I just never really thought enough about how dangerous your job had become.”

“Says the one who's currently learning the art of aerial combat and defensive manoeuvres.” Yep, you had him there. Rooster knew his job was dangerous, he’d learnt to accept that a long time ago, as did you. Even when you had just been close friends you had to accept the fact Bradley might get deployed somewhere and not come home. But yours had kinda crept up on him. He’d never had to process that kind of worry before. Never knew how gut wrenching the feeling could be. He now knew what his mother had meant when the sick feeling just never really went away. The constant fear that lived rent free in the back of her mind about his dad, about him. “Listen Bradshaw, I'm fine– you don't gotta worry about me.”

“Doesn’t stop me though.” Rooster was quick to quip, leaning his back against his locker willing the moment he could wrap his arms around you to come sooner. He’s asked Admiral Bates for a compassionate leave of absence to go be with you. But he was told unless someone was dead or dying he could very much forget that he even asked. “I’ll worry about you all the time.”

“I can assure you, I know what I'm doing, Bradshaw.” Sitting back upright as you pulled away, finishing the rest of your beer in one final swig. “DiNozzo I can't quite speak on behalf of.” Your tone confused as your eyes followed the direction he was hastily walking, following a man across the length of the Hard Deck. Hot on his tail. His hand going to ghost his holster as he pushed past people who flocked in his way. “Oh fuck hang on–” Jumping to your feet in an instant as you watched the man DiNozzo had identified as Bodmin wrap his arm around the neck of one of the Naval Aviators sitting peacefully at one of the round tables. Rooster felt sick to his stomach as he stood, unable to comprehend what was going on. What had poor Bob done to be brought into this. Dragged to his feet as his hands came up to grasp the man's forearms. A gun to his temple quickly escalated the situation ten fold. “NCIS DROP YOUR WEAPON!!” Shouting as you drew your weapon from your hoster, holding it at eye height. “I said drop your weapon!!” Jake Seresin had been taken aback by only a few things in his life– this? Oh this took the goddamn cake. Bradshaw with an NCIS Agent? Never in a million years did he think that man had that kinda game.

“I DIDN'T KILL THAT MAN–” Bob swore he saw his life flash before his very eyes as he stood trapped between you and the man who had him by the next with the barrel of his gun pressing against his temple. Fear evident in his eyes. “I DIDN'T HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.” Well of course you did? Why else would you pull a gun out in the middle of a heavily populated bar and take a person hostage? Your inner thoughts didn’t match your next sentence, you needed to gain this guy's trust before there was brain matter splattered across the nice hardwood floor that probably had some historical value to it.

“That's great man, really–why don't we just have a bit of a chat about it, yeah?” Trying to deescalate the situation the best you could as you took a single step forward. Slowly and every so carefully. “I mean if you weren't involved you're pretty much a free man, why ruin that shooting this guy huh?” Rooster wanted to reach out and grab you. Stop you from getting any closer, fighter every fibre of his being that told him to protect you. His eyes welled with tears, mixing with fear and adrenaline as he turned his head slightly to where Hangman and Coyote stood in complete stillness—both trying just as hard as Rooster to comprehend the situation unfolding.

Shit like this didn’t happen at the fucking Hard Deck.

“I don’t fucking trust you!” You could very much tell this guy was losing his mind. Quickly. Making a rash decision to gain his trust immediately. Rooster watched from behind as you put your hands up in surrender. Your finger pushing the safety on your handgun before the clip fell to the ground.

“What about now?” Slowly but surely crouching as you placed the handgun on the ground, your eyes never for a second leaving Bob's eyes.

“Gibbs—“ DiNozzo gave you a warning look. Clearly unimpressed by your actions. Reckless and dangerous. Standing off to the right behind the man who had Bob hostage, his gun still drawn.

“I’m unarmed.” Standing just as slowly as you had crouched. Your hands came back to the height of your head. Palms facing the man. “Let’s talk, but first you gotta let him go—“

“Uh uh, not a chance sweetheart.” Damn. It was worth a shot right? The man, Daniel Bodmin had been identified as one of the men who’d been out finishing with marine Author Avery. He’d washed ashore five days after being reported missing when a storm hit off the coast of San Diago. It seemed pretty set standard until autopsy results came back that Avery had ingested five hundred grams of cocaine in small plastic bags. That mixed with the twenty four thousand dollars sim cash found stashed behind the backboard of one of the seats on the fishing boat made it suspiciously suspect Avery may have been killed. The smell of foul play in the air. “The second I don’t have leverage, you're partner here is gonna put a bullet in my spine.”

“I’m pretty tempted to just do it anyway—“ DiNozzo piped up as he eyes down the suspect. “I’m a pretty good shot.” It was your turn to send him the same warning look he’d given you. Your hands still up beside your head in surrender as you took another slow hesitant step forward. Rooster couldn’t breathe.

“Okay so I’ll make a trade, you let him go—and you take me. That way we can talk, just you and me. Outside.”

“NO!” Rooster shouted as he took a step towards you, his chest pressed against your back before you knew what was happening. “No way.”

“Lieutenant Bradshaw so help me god if you don’t step back this second I’ll have you arrested for interfering with a federal investigation.” It absolutely pained you to say but if Bradley wasn’t going to stand down you were going to make him one way or the other. “Go stand with Jake—“

“Y/n don’t do this!“ Leaning over your shoulder to whisper through gritted teeth, Bradley begged you, the love of his life—not to do this. “I can’t lose you too.”

“I will cuff you to the pool table if I have to—“ It was tough love, sure. But you needed to do your damn job before Bob or anyone else for that matter got hurt. “Go, now.” The tone you used had gone to a new level of seriousness, you weren’t messing around. If need be, you’d cuff Bradley Bradshaw to that pool table and leave him there if that meant he was out of your way. If it meant you could do your damn job.

With hesitance and his tail between his legs, Rooster backed away slowly. Eyeing off the man who had Bob by the next and a gun pressed to his temple. There would surely be an indent by the time he was let go. Hands up surrender style—Rooster made his way over to where Hangman and Coyote stood dumbfounded.

“Are your eyes glued to your head or some shit man?” Javy hissed as Rooster stood beside him. “The fuck is wrong with you!?”

“She’s the love of my life, man.” You couldn’t blame Rooster for acting in your defence. It was in his inherent nature to protect the ones he loved so deeply, tenderly and oh so fiercely. “My whole god damn world.” He’d never been so scared to lose you before this very moment. The fallout of the uranium mission had him racing across the west coast of the country all the way to Washington where you were based. Knowing he came an inch to losing his life. Far too many times to count. On the way back Rooster had confided in Hangman for a brief moment. Mentioning that there had been a girl, a girl so fierce and loving and kind that he couldn't help but to wonder how you'd mourn him. He didn't mention specific things like how long you’d know each other or how long you two had been dating. Rooster didn't mention what you did for work or even how he’d had his mothers engagement ring resized off another ring he’d stolen from your jewellery stand.

Rooster had simply told Jake Seresin that for a moment there if he hadn’t come after him and Pete? There would have been a heartbroken soul at his funeral. A woman so willing to pray for him, take his pain for him, save his soul from himself. Bradley Bradshaw had always been the one left behind, but that day he almost left you. And he wasn't ready to do that without having made it one thousand percent clear that you were the love of his life. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

“Bradley? What–what are you doing here?” You questioned as he came through your front door. The key you'd gifted him nestled nicely in between all his other keys. Standing from your stop on the lounge–Youd been curled up watching Criminal Minds. “I thought you weren't supposed to be home for a few more days?” Taking massive strides to get to you Bradly simply engulfed you in a warm embrace. Hugging you so tightly because there were a few moments there he thought he'd never get to hug you again. Smell your hair, feel how cold you ran against his usually hot self.

“I couldn't wait to see you for one more second.” You could hear it in his voice, fuck. Something had happened, hadn't it. But more importantly you could see it in his eyes as he pulled away to meet your gaze in the dimly lit living room or your modest two bedroom two bathroom townhouse. Big enough for you and big enough for Bradley Bradshaw. With a little extra room for a guest here and there. “As soon as I was dismissed I jumped in the Bronco and headed straight for the airport.”

“That's a pretty long flight –” You were trying to get a read on the situation. What makes a man drive almost the entire West Coast of the United States so pressingly? What on earth was going on inside his head. “Do you want a coffee or something? I can make you a fresh pot?”

“Uh yeah that would be nice.” Bradley replied softly as he brought your forehead to his lips by pressing the palm of his hand to the back of your head. Letting you go as you wondered your way into the kitchen. The kettle already empty and waiting to be filled.

Rooster couldn't wait another second, he had to ask. Following you as he fished the small black velvet box that held his mothers engagement ring out of his pocket. Opening it and he stood behind you. Your hips pressing against the lip of the kitchen bench as you filled the kettle with a soft smile on your face. Bradley's hand came to lean against the countertop as he kissed your neck softly. Peppering small butterfly-like kisses up and down the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

“What do you think you're playing at?” Taunting the naval aviator who you’d missed so dearly as you turned around, leaning against the countertop as you held the kettle now full of water. It wasn't long before it had found its new home on the tiles. Water cascading across the gloss white flooring. Your hands coming up to cup your mouth. Jaw hung slack as a gasp escaped. Eyes wide with pure shock as Bradley Bradshaw trapped you against the countertop and himself. Holding the open velvet box in his hand with a soft smile and watery eyes. “Brad–”

“I almost didn't come home this time.” It was a sentence you never wanted to hear but were still thankful enough to hear him say it. It was and would always be better than the alternative. The home calls all military men and women dreaded. The one where officials inform you of a loss. “And it made me realise that I now have someone to leave behind.”

“Bradley–” You tried to speak as you cupped his cheeks. Pressing your forehead against his as you stood on the tips of your toes to meet his lips.

“Marry me Y/n, marry me.” It was a question you didn't need to ponder or consider saying anything but yes to immediately. Watching as Bradley dropped down to one knee before you. Following him down. “I love you so much and I just–Ican't stand the thought of not having you in my life for whatever time I have here.” It was the honest truth of the matter. “And I want you all to myself, as my wife, my best friend.

“Yes.” It was all you said before you crashed into him. Your arms wrapping around his neck as you both fell to the floor, rooster on his back in the mess of water as you fell atop him. Melting together as your tongues danced and hands roamed. “I love you so much more.”

“Do we have a deal?” Your voice brought Rooster back into the room. His eyes trained on you as you kept your hands up and your eyes on bob. He looked like he was keeping it together. But you knew from experience the second he was let go he could react in all kinds of ways. You'd seen it all. “I said do we have a deal?” You weren't in the mood for this, to play silly games with peoples lives. “Bodmin!”

“Yes yes we have a deal!” He shouted. Accepting your proposal for a trade off. your self for Bob. Slowly making your way over to him, you took Bob's hand in yours. He was shaking something chronic. He’d been in situations where life and death seemed not too far apart but this? He’d never be able to forget the feeling of having his life threatened by another person.

“Floyd?” You said Bob’s last name allowed, committing the name that was proudly displayed on his name badge to memory. “Got a first name?” You vaguely remembered, it was something that started with a B. Bradley had mentioned so many people it was hard to keep track sometimes.

“Bob–” huh, You finally had a face to go with the stories Bradley had told you late at night in the kitchen. One in particular coming to mind, the bird strike. “Robert.”

“Well Bob, today's your lucky day.” You were sure to take your time as the man released Bob from his grasp, pulling Bob towards you step by step. “If you call being held hostage lucky–”

“You don't have to do this, you know.” Bob whispered as you turned around, it was now you who had your back to Bodmin. With a gentle smile you let his hands drop. The barrel of the gun that had once been held to Bob’s temple now pressing against the small of your back. “You don't have to risk your life for me–”

“It's kinda my job.” That was all you really had time to say before you were being marched towards the front door of the Hard Deck. Rooster sent DiNozzo a look as if to ask what the hell was he doing just letting you play self sacrificing damsel. DiNozzo just shrugged, his gun still drawn and locked onto Bodmin's back from across the room. “How do you wanna do this Dan? You gonna shoot a lady in the back? You know thats considered murder right?” It was now that you were getting Daniel right where you needed him to be that you started playing mind games. “If you’re already going down for the murder of Avery you may as well go two for two right?” DiNozzo could hear everything you were saying through his ear piece. When he got the chance? He was gonna slap the god damn shit out of the back of your head for being so undeniably reckless. “You killed him for the money didn't you? You just didn't know where he’d stashed it. So you panicked.”

“What happened to innocent until proven guilty huh?”

“You held a gun to a naval aviator's head–you’re as good as done.”

“Shut up before I put a goddamn bullet in you–” Shoving you out the front door was probably the dumbest thing Daniel Bodmin could have done. Because as you stepped out onto the front deck of the Hard Deck bar? A few dozen of your agents had him surrounded. Within milliseconds.

Bradley's heart fell out his arse when he heard a single gunshot come from outside. Shouting from all over the place ensued as he ran to where he’d last seen you, right out the front door.

“Y/n!!” He was expecting the worst, to see you lying on the ground with a bullet between your eyes. But that's not what he saw. Far from it actually. Special Agent DiNozzo was hot on Rooster's tail. Fuck. This couldn't be happening, this was meant to be a routine god damn op.

To both men's surprise, you had your knee pressed into Daniel Bodmin's back. He was face down on the deck with his hands cuffed behind his back, his gun discarded. Looking up at Rooster with a smirk evident on your face as Daniel squired under the pressure you were forcing him down with.

“Hi fellas.” You beamed like nothing unorthodox had just taken place. “DiNozzo, what the hell took you so long man–?”

“I was trying to listen to what everyone on comms was saying but it got all jumbled.” DiNozzo explained as he holstered his gun. Leaning down to take over the apprehension of Daniel Bodmin. “All I heard was gett him outside then you started going all awol of me like some suicidal maniac.” Pulling the now detained suspect to his feet. “When we get back to Quantico you best believe Gibbs is gonna be pissed.”

“When is he ever not?” You replied with a sigh. Turning your attention to Rooster who stood off to the side. The entire squad looking out the windows, peeping eyes looking over the windowsills to catch a glimpse of the action happening outside. This had been the most exhilarating situation the Hard Deck Bar had ever seen. Penny swore she was about ready to sell the damn place. “I'm sorry I threatened to arrest you, you know I wou–” before you could finish your sentence Bradley’s hands were clasping your cheeks. Pulling you against him as he kissed you with so much love and admiration you could taste it.

“I’ve never been so fucking worried about you—“ Roosted kissed you deeper this time, he knew what he was playing at as well. The whole ‘let me kiss her so she can’t speak’ shtick. Only pulling away with enough time so he could. “You’ve told me this stuff seems so normal to you but I want you to know it’s not—it’s beyond dangerous and I can't believe how easily you put down your weapon.” Rooster was projecting his own insecurities about your job onto you. Placing your hand over your lips as he came back to kiss you. Colliding with your open palm.

“You have a medallion sitting over our fireplace because you defied direct orders and single handedly flew into enemy territory knowing damn well you didn't have the ammunition to fight back–all to save the lives of others.” Yep. You had him with that one. “What is the difference here? Spot it and I'll give you five bucks Bradshaw–” Rooster just pulled you into his chest. His arms wrapping around your shoulders, his chin resting on the top of your head. Looking out as the sun set lower and slower on the horizon.

“I guess there isn't much in it.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Twenty minutes. That how much time had passed since Rooster saw you held at gun point, since he saw Bob held at gunpoint. It was standard protocol, you had Bob sitting at a nearby picnic table outside of the Hard Deck taking a witness statement.

“And you’re sure you’re alright? You don’t feel like you need to get checked out or anything?” You had your windbreaker one. The dark blue oversized jacket that proudly displayed NCIS on the back.

“No ma’am, thanks to you I’m in one peice.” You smiled softly at him, honestly you were just doing your job. “I didn’t know Rooster had a fiancée—“ You closed your little notepad before pocketing it in the back of your jean pocket. “Wish we’d met under different circumstances.”

“It is a little unorthodox isn’t it.” You chuckled, tapping Bob in the shoulder before making your way over to Rooster. He’d been watching you like a Hawk as you did your thing. Told people where to go and who to talk to, lead the investigation as NCIS agents went in and out of the Hard Deck. Talking to other witnesses for as many recollections as possible to aid the prosecution. “I’m thinking of staying until Tuesday if you feel like some company?” You mentioned as you approached Bradley, he stool with his arms crossed over his chest. Just admiring you from a far. He never really got the chance to watch you work. “If not I can always get a room at the motel down the road.”

“Well I usually don’t bring in strays—“ Taunting you as you bumped your hip against your finance’s playfully, your tongue sticking out against the inner part of your cheek as his smart ass comment. “But I’m sure I can make an exception.” You and Bradley had spoken a few times about the possibility of maybe buying a house in Freightertown now that he was there on more of a permanent basis. You’d keep the rental in Washington for convenience—but the idea would eventually see you come to San Diago as well. “You can’t get mad about the dishes piled as high as Everest in the sink though.”

“I’m not gonna say a word—“ Rooster swore he saw your nose grow an inch longer. He knew you’d say something about the mess, he’d let it get a little out of hand this week. He’d been starting early and finishing late—leaving little time for upkeep on the day to day basics.

“Agent Gibbs?” One of your Agents approached you followed by two men you’d never seen before in your life. “This is officer Radavic and Wilcox—NSA.”

“What’s NSA want with our case?” You questioned and the men showed you their badges and credentials. Rooster didn’t know if he should leave or stay. Choosing to stay as you crossed your arms across your chest.

“Daniel Bodmin was a foreign national with information considered a threat to the United States of America.” You couldn't believe what you were hearing. This entire case had been blown way out of the realm of what you originally thought it to be. “We figured we’d jump in, take things off your hands.” With a scoff and a small laugh you shook your head. Kicking your heel in the rough gravel underneath your shoe.

“This case is NCIS jurisdiction–regardless if Bodmin is of interest to NSA—“ Something was off, way off. If NSA was interested they would have made contact way before now. And they’d use the proper channels to do so, not just show up in Miramar unannounced. Perhaps you were too much like your father, or maybe you just didn’t believe the story from the get go.

“Well, I personally believe it would be in the best interest of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service to work with us, after all? We are on the same side.” Yeah, no. There was something incredibly off about these two. “Have you been able to find anything on–” Before the supposed NSA Agent had the chance to finish his sentence you were sending your shine directly between his legs. Pulling his shoulders forward into you as you did so. Immediately he went down like a sack of shit, groaning as his partner went at Rooster. Not knowing he wasn't NCIS.

“Hey woah what the–!” Rooster was pretty quick on the draw, you'd give your soon to be husband that. He didn't need your help when it came to defending himself. His knuckles would surely be bruised up slightly after he was done and the other agent was on the ground. “What are you doing! You heard the guy? You're on the same team?” Roosters eyes were as wide as saucers as he turned back to you, fixing his shirt after having laid the other agent on his ass. Unconscious.

“Im pretty sure he's not NSA–” Bending over to retrieve both their weapons as a few agents rushed to the scene. Taking them into custody.

“Pretty sure!?” Bradley shouted through gritted teeth. “Because you teed off on him like you were kicking a field goal!”

“Rooster, I've got a hunch they're working with Bodmin alright, they might be foreign oppritives—just slow your roll there.” Trying to calm your fiancé down as you dusted him off. Sand everywhere.

“Oh my gosh! Y/n, sweetheart, baby girl no you don't just kick a guy in the junk on a hunch–“ Rooster groaned as he held his stomach. “Gees, sometimes I don't even know you, who does that?” You shrugged it off with a chuckle, intertwining your arm with Roosters as yiu walked back into the Hard Deck—all eyes on you as you looked up. A good set of twelve eyes all locked onto you. “Uh, I think this might be a good time to introduce you to my colleagues here.” Rooster mumbled as he kissed the top of your head. Nodding in response you waved at everyone who just stood stunned, still processing what had happened earlier.

“You must be colleagues huh?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“So how’d you know they were bogus?” You’d all been sitting around the pool table. You’d noticed pretty quickly just how close Bob had stayed to the side of the women who’d come racing to the Hard Deck not ten minutes after you’d placed Bodmin under arrest. When Bradley had introduced you she’d pulled you in for a hug, said thank you for saving Bob's life and told you her name was Nat.

“Theyre accents–” You replied to Coyote who just shook his head in disbelief. God you were cool. How on earth did Rooster manage to find a girl like you?

“Nope, they didn't have accents.” Rooster saw how everyone was looking at you like you were the coolest person they’d ever encountered. Flying high he decided to shoot you down for his own enjoyment. Bring you back down to earth where he and the commoners lived. Standing between Bradley legs as he sat on one of the barstools with your back against his chest. You turned as his arms came down from their home on your shoulders. His hands lingering on your hips.

“Rooster, sweetheart, baby boy.” You teased, knowing exactly what he was doing. “Do you know the difference between French open syllabic organisation and English archaic speech patterning?” Giving him a taste of his own medicine. He didn’t respond—simply smirking as he took a sip of his beer. Eyes never leaving yours. Fucking smart arse.

“What that old chestnut?” Hangman mumbled as he smirked into the beer bottle he held to his lips. The whole crew minus Bob were indulging in a few too many alcoholic beverages. “Nah, what the hell even is that?” Fuck—Rooster could count his lucky stars with you that was for damn sure. “They probably have some diplomatic unity or some bullshit.”

“That's exactly why we threw em in county.” A familiar voice entered the chat. “They’ll be lucky to even get a phone call by christmas. '' DiNozzo snickered as he picked up a handful of the peanuts sitting in a bowl on the edge of the pool table. Looking at him so disappointed and puzzled as to where he’d gone this whole time– He shot you a questioning look back. “What? What's that look for?”

“Where the hell have you been—?” It was a legitimate question you wanted an answer to. DiNozzo just frowned as he took the handful of nuts into his mouth.

“Escorting our perp into county, why? what did I miss?” Looking around, no one wanted to give him an answer. “I'm pretty sure we’re good here don't you think? Besides, I’m gonna head back to the motel and get a good rest in before giving our two NSA impersonators the old razzle dazzle tomorrow–” Bradley chuckled to himself as you lent back to him. His chin resting on your shoulder.

“Just don't let Agent Bradshaw here interrogate them.” You would soon have to get used to that. Special Agent Bradshaw. It sounded funny but in the best of ways. Like a new house. Sure it felt foregin at first but soon it would become a home. Rolling your eyes as you sighed dramatically.

“Why is that?” DiNozzo questioned with squinted eyes. “What did you do–?”

“She kicked one of the guys right in the non day plumes!” Bradley scoffed over your shoulder, feeling you pull away in defeat as you stood with your arms crossed, sending him a glare– telling him to get over it already. God you loved him. So much.

“No–” Anthony played into it. Holding his hands together to cover his crotch. “She didn’t–”

“Yep–Guy didn't even have his weapon out.” You couldn't believe how big of a deal Bradley was making out of this.

“Really!?” DiNozzo was flabbergasted. “Gibbs, that's just outright assault.” You didn't know who to stare at more, Anthony or Bradley as the group watched on with laughter and smirks.

“Mmhmm, right in the cul de sac, kicked him so hard it gave me a stomach ache.” Okay this was getting out of hand.

“So what!” Throwing your hands up in defeat. “Would it have been better if I pistol whipped him across the face?”

“YES!!” Every single man you stood with said allowed in unison. You couldn't believe it. Even Natasha rollered her eyes.

“I'd rather be held at gun point–” Bob pipped up as Phoenix softly slapped him in the chest with the back of her hand. The group couldn't help but to laugh, settling in soon after into their own conversations as you said bye to DiNozzo and turned all of your attention back to Rooster.

“You done?” Questioning his childishness you glared at him yet again with a soft smirk. “Or should I get that hotel room after all?”

“Oh No–” Bradley Bradshaw had never jumped from his seat so fast in his life. Finishing his beer as he did so. “No you're coming home with me.” kissing your cheek as he whispered in your ear. “I specifically remember you mentioning handcuffs and I don't know about you but I'm keen to play cops and robbers.”

Would you like to read more of NCIS Bradley? The series Masterlist is linked here

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @auroraboreallisfine @tigerfan24 @atarmychick007

#top gun bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x f!reader #ncis imagine #top gun fandom #bradley bradshaw one shot #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction

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idkfitememate · 4 months

Note

I must say that the best way I can describe tiger creator it would be just this image

Plus I wanna know how tighnari would react to the large killer cat acting like a kitten tehe~

“So you’re telling me… you were working one day… turned around… and just. Found a completely tame Risboland Tiger behind you. And your first thought, was not to run oh no of course not, but to PUSH IT DOWN AND SLEEP WITH IT????”

Kaveh winced at Tighnari’s tone.

“In my defense… I was tired.”

“YOU WERE TIRED?!?!” Tighnari screeched.

He had seen a lot in his day. He had seen so many stupid people in his time as a ranger. Eating mushrooms they couldn’t and touching flowers they shouldn’t. But to be hearing this out of someone who he considered a pretty decent person? Maybe even a friend (if he strained the term)?

Was absolutely ridiculous!

His gaze was then sent to the Tiger in question who was… reading a book? It’s claw tracing gently down the page as if not to ruin it??

His confused gaze must’ve been noticed by Kaveh because the man then looked in that same direction.

“Oh yeah… they like reading. They’ve even begun to write!”

THEY CAN READ???? THEY CAN WRITE??????? A RISHBOLAND TIGER??????????

Tighnari looked incredulously at his friend(?), jaw hanging open. His entire body was shaking in disbelief at the wild peice of information the blonde in front of him had dropped. This animal that has shown nothing but hostility to humans and hybrids alike… WAS READING AND WRITING???

“Oh and if you think thats neat they can even cook and clean!”

Kaveh was going to be the death of Tighnari.

“They even cooked a fourteen course dinner with one dish and one dessert from even nation because I had finally gotten a commission! Isn’t that just so nice of them?”

Yep. Tighnari had to be dead.

I hope I did the ask Justice and also the image is hilarious. Tighnari’s pulling out his hair as you and Kaveh cuddle it up! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ ᰔ

#asks <3 #Tiger!Creator

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sc0tters · 7 months

Text

Teach Me | Mackie Samoskevich

summary: when Mackie learns of your struggles he finds a way for you both to win.

request: yes/no

trope: lessons in bed

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (fem receiving), swearing.

word count: 1.76k

authors note: first off kei thanks for helping with this and I’m sorry that I didn’t do it justice. This piece just didn’t click with me tonight but I really wanted to get it out for you all. So thanks for reading as an build the celly up.

Mackie knew that it was wrong.

The way he thought about you as his room went dark each night, how your laugh made him feel. But worse of all how Mackie let out a cheer when he realised that Spencer was being sent to the AHL. Yes all of it was wrong.

But as your boyfriend left you in the state of Florida with Mackie as your next door neighbour, he couldn’t help but feel like the universe was on his side.

You two had grown close, the daily dinners together helped that bond grow. By the end of October Mackie was your favourite person in the state.

So naturally he was the man who eventually heard about the struggles you didn’t want to share with your boyfriend.

Spencer was a great guy, don’t get you wrong. But he was as vanilla as they came, especially when the distance came into play. Phone calls about your days ended in ‘I love yous’ and you knew you should have been happy about it.

Yet you wanted him to tell you how he pictured his hand around his cock being your mouth instead. The two videos you had tried to send Spencer with you wearing nothing in them it only had your boyfriend requesting that you stopped sending those to him.

To say that you were a mess of horny nerves was an understatement “you okay?” Mackie asked snapping his fingers in front of you.

You had taken him up on the offer of going to the gym in your apartment building together, ironically the offer came up minutes after your vibrator decided to stop working “yep.” No you weren’t. Mackie was in his compression shirt and some shorts that left little to the imagination.

His curls stuck to the top of his forehead “you know you can tell me the truth.” Mackie smiled putting his weight down to crouch between your legs as you were still sat on a weight bench.

It made you feel guilty how you enjoyed the way his eyes looked at you “I miss having someone between my legs!” You blurted out quickly slapping your hand over your mouth feeling grateful that nobody else was in the gym.

Mackie’s eye almost popped out of his head “you’re going to need to elaborate f’me princess.” His voice was soft as he pulled your hand away from your face so that he could hear you again.

The gesture calmed your nerves “you promise you won’t judge me?” You were dangerously close to telling him everything at its most unfiltered “I promise.” The hockey player moved to your side joining you on the bench.

You sighed fiddling with the ends of your braid “Spence seems like he’s no longer sexually attractive to me and my vibrator decided to break this morning-” your cheeks reddened as your ramble worsened “did you finish?” Mackie crossed his arms.

“What?”

“Did you finish?”

All you needed to do was shake your head to make him smile “even when I do it’s not the same.” The feeling of someone’s cock in your cunt was truly never going to be replaced by the device that you now swore hated you “do girls like being gone down on?” Mackie’s question was genuine causing you to hold back a laugh “have you never gone down before?” He shook his head staying quiet until it seemed like he had a light bulb go off above his head “I think I have an idea that could help us both.”

You practically followed Mackie downstairs to his apartment like you were a lost dog as you followed him back “what do you say?” His suggestion made sense to you, you got your release and he got the practice.

The environment was safe, you two were comfortable and you both needed this. All signs pointed to yes “what about Spence?” Sure you knew your thoughts about the boy in front of you weren’t pure but you still loved your boyfriend “what he doesn’t know won’t kill him.” Mackie shrugged causing you to nod “let’s do it.”

His room had a similar layout to yours. It smelt of smoke oak and a candle you swore you had given him “you sure you’re okay with this?” Mackie watched as you sat on his bed.

You smiled at his care “c’mere Mackie.” You held your finger up at him motioning for him to come over to you.

The hockey player smirked as your cool fingers ran up the inside of his shirt “shit baby.” The American groaned as he leaned down.

Kissing you was everything he thought it would be. His lips were rough against yours his tongue slide over your lip making you gasp.

He pulled away to look at you “won’t make you wait for this.” Mackie smiled shifting his attention to your leggings “your ass looks so fucking good in these.” He confessed making your cheeks redden “Mackie-” you groaned feeling his hands run up your now bare thighs.

Mackie smirked “tell me what you want?” His lips pressed against your skin making you forget how to speak English “your tongue.” You begged watching as his fingers hooked in your waistband of your panties “where baby?” The boy watched as you grabbed at his sheets.

Your bare cunt faced him making him lick his lips “on my cl-clit.” Your voice was shaky as he wearily ran his tongue over the sensitive nub “fuck!” You groaned almost jumping in the process.

Mackie was quick to pull away as he thought he had done something wrong “go softer,” you pleaded sticking your tongue out in the way you want him to do so. The hockey player nodded repeating his actions with your instructions “right there.” You nearly melted into his mattress as he watched you silently taking that as approval.

His tongue lay flat against your slit “use it like your fingers.” You remembered that you were meant to be teaching him “fuck my pussy.” You instructed him wrapping your fingers in his hair.

You gasped feeling his tongue thrust into your cunt as his nose hit your clit “Jesus Mackie!” You cried feeing his fingers move to your pussy “you liking that baby?” Mackie cooed focusing his tongue on your clit once more.

This allowed him to thrust his fingers at a quicker pace drawing louder noises from your lips “y-yeah.” You nodded bringing your hand to cover your mouth “let me hear you.” The hockey player clicked his tongue as he focused on getting you close.

As your thighs wrapped around his head Mackie couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t done this before “I’m gonna come.” You announced not even caring about how quickly you grew close to your high.

Mackie continued to suck at your clit occasionally laying his tongue flat causing you to arch your back “don’t stop.” You begged driving your hips into his face as your body shook letting pleasure wash over you.

The boy didn’t stop his movements until you were pulling his face up to yours “fucking hell,” you mumbled not wasting time to kiss him.

Mackie enjoyed how your release tasted on his tongue “so sweet,” his voice was soft “you’re a good listener.” You were quick to compliment him letting your eyes flash down to the bulge in his shorts.

It seemed that the boy want get all embarrassed but you stopped him “think you deserve a reward.” You mumbled bringing him onto the bed with you.

In that moment he swore he was in heaven. Watching you let his cock go free from his pants only really bringing him back to reality when you let your cunt sink down on his cock “you’re so big.” You were both far too focused on the pleasure that soaked the room to care that he was fucking you raw “oh my god.” Mackie groaned watching you pull your shirt over your head leaving you both naked now.

His eyes stuck to your nipples particularly the one highlighted with a titanium bar “been hiding this beauty.” The hockey player didn’t waste time bringing his lips to it.

Your head fell back as your eyes screwed shut “making me feel so good.” You gasped occasionally hitting your clit against his torso as you rode his cock.

The room began to feel sticky as your hands went to his chest softly running up his abs “you like them baby?” Mackie smiled kissing up your neck as he held back a smirk at your responsiveness.

The two of you had been quiet for the most part as you enjoyed the peace that you got. Softy savouring each and every second of this like there was a small part of you that knew this couldn’t happen again.

A cry left your lips as you brought your hand down to rub your “you feel me in there?” Mackie’s hand pressed against your stomach making you nod “yeah.” Your mouth formed an o.

Now just because Mackie wasn’t used to eating girls out it certainly didn’t mean that he didn’t know that face, you were close.

Which was a good thing because the way your cunt squeezed his cock he was not far behind you “I know baby you can let it go.” The hockey player’s words seemed to let you drop your face into the nook of his neck.

His fingers dug into your hips as you whined finally coming for the second time in the night “oh my god.” Mackie had to held guide your body as it shuddered above him “holy shit!” The boy let out a grunt as your cunt clenched around him causing his cock to throb as he came.

Mack used his fingers to brush your hair out of your face “you okay?” He asked with his chest still heaving as he recovered from his orgasm “never better,” you nodded sending him a smile before you kissed his lips.

12 weeks later

You knew something was off, you hadn’t felt well and all of the possibilities of what could be causing this you had crossed off.

Well all but one. Your period had yet to come and was now eight weeks late.

So there you sat on the floor of your bathroom waiting for the alarm to go off.

It pulled your attention away from your gaze as your alarm went off.

Pregnant

Yet the thing that made you feel worse was that tonight was your first time seeing Spencer since he got sent to the AHL.

#ambers 500 celly #Mackie Samoskevich smut #mackie samoskevich #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #imagines #oneshots #hockey smut #nhl smut #amber writes fics

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wolfjackle-creates · 6 months

Text

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 17

Damn, how did this get to a part 17????

Here's the promised WIP Wednesday (on a Thursday)!

I had a lot of fun writing this part. The words just flowed so easily.

If you didn't notice, I now have the first arc posted on AO3. It covers the first three parts I've shared here along with some extras that I never did.

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

Part 1, Previous

Word Count: 1.9k

-----

By the time morning had rolled around, Tim had also signed them up for a 7:30 AM and a 6 PM TV interview. Hopefully they could do enough damage control to mitigate the worst of Walker’s bad PR, whatever that turned out to be.

Tim nudged everyone awake at 5 AM. Conner and Cassie got up the easiest.

“Morning, Rob,” Conner said through a yawn. “Time to prepare for our interview?”

“Yep. We’ll be going in uniform since this is an interview for the Young Justice.”

“Great,” said Cassie. “We’ll be ready.”

Tim went to Danny next. “Hey, Danny.” The boy didn’t move, so Tim shook his shoulder slightly.

“Wha…?” Danny blinked his eyes open. “Wha’s goin on?”

“Me and the others are going to our interviews. We’ll be back in a few hours, kay?”

Danny just blinked at him and Tim laughed fondly.

“I’ll leave a note.”

Tim skipped breakfast on their way out, though Bart offered him some breakfast bars.

“It’s too late to be up,” Tim yawned.

Conner laughed as he hugged Tim and wrapped him in his TTK. They rose several feet into the air. “You should not have pulled that all-nighter.”

“How else was I supposed to be awake in time?”

Tim could feel the way Conner shook his head. “Just tell me where to go. I’ll get us there.”

Tim pointed to an area in town. “It’s over that way.”

Bart grinned. “I’ll meet you three there!”

“We won’t be long,” said Cassie.

With the benefit of flying, they were at the radio station within fifteen minutes. Sometimes being friends with metas made life so much easier.

As soon as they entered, a team of people greeted them.

“You were actually serious!” exclaimed a tall, white man. “Thought for sure it was a joke when I got your email last night. I’m Steve and I’ll be your interviewer this morning.”

Tim shook his hand. “Good morning, Steve. Robin at your service, and these are Superboy, Wonder Girl, and Impulse.”

Then they had to be introduced to all the producers, sound engineers, and assistants. If it hadn’t been for his parents’ gala training, Tim was certain he would’ve forgotten all the names instantly.

The employees knew how to do their jobs, however, and despite everyone wanting to meet the heroes, in less than twenty minutes, they were set up in the recording studio.

“So,” said Steve. “I just want to make sure I get this right. You, Robin, have been friends with Phantom for a while now and wanted to tell our listeners the truth about him. That he’s actually a hero and not a menace.”

“That’s right, Steve. I knew him before… Well, he’s a ghost. You know what before implies. He was there for me when I first became Robin. Now I want to be there for him when he’s dealing with similar struggles.”

“That’s not what any of the experts believe.”

Conner snorted. “The so-called experts in this town want to completely destroy any and all ghosts. Don’t think they’re unbiased.”

Bart nodded. “Yeah. We may not have known Phantom as long as Robin, here. But he’s a good guy. Helped us out when we got stranded here.”

“Stranded, eh? Mind if I ask you more about that on air?”

Tim laughed. “You can ask whatever you like. But I can’t guarantee we’ll answer everything. Secret missions and all that, you understand.”

Steve sighed theatrically. “It was worth a shot. Now, we’ll be going live in about five minutes and we’ll have three segments of eight minutes separated by two minute ad breaks. For a total of thirty minutes in the studio. Anything in particular you want me to ask?”

Tim pulled a sheet of paper out of his utility belt. “I wrote some down, if you don’t mind. They should be engaging and broad enough to please your audience and personal curiosity.”

“I won’t ask only from this list, you understand,” said Steve as he took it.

“Of course not. The first three are ones I do request that you ask, however. Beyond those, they’re just suggestions.”

Steve skimmed the list and nodded. “I can work with this.”

Beyond the window, the sound technician made a signal.

“All right, everyone. That’s the one minute mark. Let me introduce you before you say anything, capiche?”

Tim gave a thumbs up and the others added their assent.

The “on air” light turned on and Steve spoke in a voice much more performative than the one he’d been using. “Good Morning, Amity Park! This is Steve Boyce here to help you bring in the day. How are you early birds doing? Have I got a treat for you today! So last night I got absolutely no sleep because at nine thirty, shortly after our newly implemented curfew, I got a surprise email. From no other than the heroes who helped us out the other night when we were attacked! That’s right! The one and only Robin from Gotham emailed my and asked to come on my small, local show. So he and the Teen Titans are here with me. Let’s give them a warm Amity welcome, what do you say?”

Cassie laughed. “Thanks for that introduction, Steve. I’m Wonder Girl and I’d like to clarify one point. The former Teen Titans have kept the name Titans even if they’re no longer Teens. So we’ve decided to go by a new name.”

Bart nodded. “Yep. We’re the Young Justice now.”

Steve laughed. “Looks like I’ve already put my foot in it. Let me correct myself, let’s give the Young Justice a warm Amity welcome.”

Tim put on the happy gala voice his parents had drilled into him. “Not at all! It’s a new change and we’ve never really operated out here before. Even back home in San Francisco or Gotham we get called the Teen Titans more often than not. We’re just on a crusade to get the name change to stick.”

“Well I’m sure all of my listeners will be sure to get it right going forward. Now, let’s get down to business. We’re all thrilled that you were around to help us out the other night, but what brought you to Amity to begin with? Mayor Montez has publicly stated he never even had a chance to reach out for help before you were on the scene.”

“That was all Robin’s doing,” said Conner. “He’s friends with Phantom, you know.”

“Yep,” agreed Tim. “We were in the area when our transport broke down. Impulse figured out where we were and I knew of Amity due to my friendship with Phantom. Since we weren’t on a time limit, we decided to pop into town for a visit. Imagine our surprise when our very first evening here, we experienced a ghost invasion!”

Cassie laughed. “Oh, come on, Rob. With our lives, it really wasn’t that surprising.”

“Yeah,” said Bart. “We’ve totally had weirder things happen to us.”

Steve leaned forward and pitched his tone lower as if conspiring with them. “Well, I’ll definitely be asking for some of the details on what those might’ve been later. But first, I have to ask. Robin, how did you meet Phantom? He’s that ghost in the black-and-white jumpsuit, right? As far as I know, he’s only ever been seen in Amity. And you’ve certainly never been here before.”

Tim took a breath, this was the moment. “Yep, that’s him. And, well, it may be strange, but I knew him before he was ever Phantom.”

“Before he was Phantom? Do you mean…” Steve let his voice trail off.

Tim let out a low sigh and closed his eyes. He really had to sell this. “Yeah.” He made sure his voice was rough. “Yeah. I knew him before he died. He was one of my best friends growing up and we’ve known each other for years.”

Conner put a hand on his shoulder. “Rob…”

When even Steve needed a second to figure out how to reply, Tim figured he did a good enough job. “So you know him when he was alive,” Steve said. “Who was he? Where did he live?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that,” said Tim. “He was young when he died and his family don’t need people harassing them. They’ve been through a lot. And I know Phantom’s reputation isn’t the best.”

Steve let out another put-upon sigh. “And there you go being reasonable when all I want is the hot gossip. Fine, no questions about who Phantom was. I’m sure you were thrilled when you found out he came back as a ghost, though.”

Tim laughed and was glad Steve was able to change the mood of the interview so quickly without him doing anything. “Oh absolutely. I near about had a heart attack when he called me up out of the blue to say he was a ghost now! This was my first opportunity to visit him since, you know.”

Conner nudged him. “So he brought us along for the ride.”

Steve hummed. “So for the rest of you, this is your first time meeting Phantom?”

“Yep,” said Bart. “I like him. He’s cool.”

“So, Impulse, you think he’s trying to help us. Because it seems like whenever he shows up, things get broken and we have to spend days or weeks and tens of thousands on repairs.”

“Robin knows more about it than I do,” said Bart, “but I guess what let Phantom cross back over to Earth is allowing other ghosts to cross back over. Phantom just wants to spend more time with his living family and friends. The others ghosts…”

“They want more than that,” finished Tim. “Phantom’s explained it to me a bit. They all have something driving them that can only be fulfilled on Earth. And they don’t care what they have to do to satisfy that drive. So Phantom steps in to try and prevent them from causing too much damage or hurting anyone. Then he forces them back to the dimension they come from.”

“In fact,” added Cassie. “We spent all night talking with Phantom and we got his side of the story on several of his fights since he first came to Amity. We’ve written it all up and submitted them to the local paper, so look in the OpEds over the next few days if you want to know the truth.”

“Oh, well now you’ve definitely got me intrigued! I think I will. Anything you'd be willing to share with us now?”

“Do you remember how a month or two ago, a giant robot was seen in Amity?” asked Tim.

“Not something I’m likely to forget!”

Tim laughed. “I’m sure! Well, what you don’t know is that he crossed over to Earth from the Ghost Zone about three or four days before you ever saw him. Phantom kept him from gaining a physical body for days before Technus was able to get past him.”

“Really? So you’re saying that without Phantom, we would’ve been dealing with that robot for a lot longer?”

“Yep.”

Steve asked several more questions about Phantom. Some serious: How does he plan to decrease property damage going forward? We’re coaching him on how to move a fight and deescalate conflict. And some light hearted: So I heard he’s a dog person? Oh, absolutely. A ghost dog adopted him a few weeks ago.

Then the questions turned more personal as he moved on from Phantom and asked about their lives and exploits. And before they knew it, the interview was over.

“Thanks for reaching out,” Steve said as soon as they left the recording studio. “You are by far the biggest guests I’ve ever had on.”

“Thanks for agreeing to have us on so last minute,” said Tim.

“How could I possibly say no?”

-----

Hope you enjoyed the interview! I probably won't go into detail for the TV one since it'd just be rehashing the same information.

I no longer do tag lists, but I do have a Subscription Post if you want to be notified of updates.

#dpxdc #tim excels at interviews #his parents trained him for it from the cradle #and the rest have done them before #and they actually care about making danny look good #so theyre gonna behave #steve didnt sleep a wink before this interview #he got the email and was half convinced it was a prank #had a backup show planned and everything #the staff totally made copies of this show #and everyone took home a tape #(management turned a blind eye though thats usually discouraged)

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empressgeekt · 7 months

Text

batfam meets the justice league fic idea, where Nightwing convinces the JL that the batfam is the last of the race Gotham bat demons...

made on moble so sorry in advance.

Okay so it starts with Batwoman and Nightwing hanging around the watchtower. Eventually someone (most likely either hal or barry) asks how they are related to batman. Batwoman claims to be his sister, and Nightwing obviously says he's his son. When the question of who Nightwing's mom comes up (along with some of the league thinking that Nightwing was an accident, cause they can't see bats settling down), Batwoman simply says, "he doesn't have one."

The convo sudden shifts to the topic of the 'history' and 'biology' of the bat demon race. How they were nearly eradicated by a war with the Amazon's, and Atlantis, only a few really surviving and finding refuge in the caves below Gotham. Hwo they used ancient forgotten magic to remove all memories of this 'war' to keep themselves save. And finally how they reproduce asexually, by reviving the souls of children who were wrongfully killed. Taking the weak dead spirit and carrying them in their own soul until it could put itself back together.

When asked if this was how Nightwing was born, they confirm it.

BW: oh yeah. Actually 'wing was kind of a surprise you could say.

Hal: surprise?

N: YEP! You see I was kinda of dad's first so he really didn't know what he was doing...

BW: and it ended with bossy big brother screaming his head off in an emergence of a batling that he didn't know he was carrying.

Barry: screaming his head off?

N: oh...well the process of soul splitting, emergence, rebirth, whatever you want to call it, includes the host's soul breaking down enough to allow the younger newly revived soul to detach. It's very painful, So I've heard.

BW; so you've heard? Kid please I know you've heard your father when it came to your siblings rebirth.

Needless to say everyone (especially hal and barry), look at Batman the same way for the next few days.

when Bruce confronts his son and cousin, he honestly can't say he hates the idea. UT would throw off any suspicions sound hus true identity. Not mention give him a new way to mess with hal.

The rest of the batfam (let's say standard webcomic cast, with Terry and Matty McGinnis [time traveled/dimensionhopped], along with flashpoint!batman, because they deserve to be in the safe place rhay is the batfam too, for funies), also find this cover story hilarious, and spend all of dinner adding to the bat-demon mythos.

Thomas would've been the last surviving member of the demon army, who retreated and sought refuge in Gotham, along with his human turned immortal companion of Alfred. Bruce, Kate, and Luke (batwing) would his 'children'.

The normal children would all still be Bruce's. Inculding spoiler, as why she claims she isn't Bruce's daughter, she isn't passing up the chance to mess with the JL.

Eventually the idea gets suggested that they should trick the JL into believing that Batman is pregnant with a new batling. The prank idea slowly snowballs from there and Bruce is unable to stop it. So he agrees to join in, ans rhe prank planninf begins. Matty immediately volunteers to be the new batling, because he technically the youngest and doesn't have a vigilante alter ego yet.

The prank starts out slow. Batwoman and Nightwing increase their visits to the watchtower? Specially when batman is there and they are usually in the same room as him.

Bruce pretends to be more tired often, even pretending to take a nap, where the JL can find him. He also fakes head aches.

Eventually Clark asks him if he's alright. And Nightwing responds with

N: of course he's not. He's working too hard.

B: Nightwing...

N: there's a reason me and aunt BW following you, and it's so you don't over do it!

B: nightwing...

N: even grandfather is worried.

B: Nightwing. I have been through this 8 times already. I think I know my limits. Besides your grandfather has always been worried over the thought of a new spawn in the house.

Clark: !!!!

Once more things around batman grow awkward for the next few weeks.

The end of the fic would be the JL visiting the "bat domain" to meet Matty dressed up in a mask and brightly colored suit. And finding out about the literal small army that batman's been building. Not to mention cameo of Thomas in his bat suit scaring the living crap out if the justice league, and having the time of his life.

Edit: Alright its official, this is going to be my holiday special for this year. So, around Christmas time I'll post a link so yall can read this.

Edit 2: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51963331/chapters/131402920

Happy holidays! hears and early present!

#justice league #batfamily #humor #crack fic #Justice league meets batfamily #batfam #batdad #batkids #I don't know why my brain came up with this #thomas wayne #terry mcginnis #matt mcginnis #flashpoint batman #Let these guys be a happy family that enjoys screwing with their dads coworkers

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eiightysixbaby · 1 year

Note

“this is a one time thing” and “tell me what you want” for the sentence prompts please and thank you my darling 🤗

girlllll i hope i did this justice for you!!! lmk what you think 😚

18+ please (cw: mention of masturbation, oral f receiving, thigh riding)

“-Fuck! Stupid thing, are you kidding me…”

You’re sprawled out on your bed, legs spread, panties around your ankles. You found yourself with some alone time seeing as your roommate was at work, and, shit, you were gonna take advantage. You’d grabbed your bright purple vibrator out of the drawer in your nightstand and had been putting it to good - no, great - use, getting yourself so so close to blissful release, when the battery died. Because of course it did.

Grumbling, you sit up on your bed and open the nightstand drawer once again, rummaging through it for the toy’s charger, but coming up with nothing. After completely tearing apart your room in your search, y’know, like any normal person would, you sit back down on your fluffy mattress with a frustrated huff. The charger was nowhere to be seen, and even if you did find it now, Eddie was sure to be home from work any minute anyways.

You liked living with Eddie, loved it, honestly. Introduced by a mutual friend, you guys formed a strong bond and ended up moving in together to gain some sense of freedom in your small town. But, Eddie was nosy - not in a bad way - it’s just that whenever he’s home, he likes to see what you’re up to, wants to talk or watch a movie or play a game. You loved living with your friend, but it left you with very little, ahem, self-care time.

You’re laying on your bed, legs dangling over the edge of the mattress, mourning the loss of the orgasm-that-got-away, when you hear the sound of keys turning in the lock, and the door to the apartment swinging open. You begrudgingly sit up and pull on some sweatpants, opening your bedroom door and being met with the smiling face of your curly headed roommate.

“Hey, sweet cheeks,” he grins, setting his keys on the counter and coming over to ruffle your hair.

“Hey, Eds,” you return, watching him as he gets himself a glass of water.

“You okay? You look…. frazzled,” he eyes you suspiciously, awaiting a response.

“Me? Y-yeah, yep, I’m good,” you mentally smack yourself as the words come out, way to sound convincing.

But miraculously Eddie doesn’t pry, just moves past you to exit the kitchen, his hand ghosting along your hip as he skirts past you. The small touch gives you goosebumps, and your mind goes to the ache between your thighs. Get it the fuck together, it’s Eddie, for God’s sake.

He walks past your room, pauses, and walks backwards till he’s back in your doorway. Doing a double take. You furrow your brows in confusion before you realize. There, resting on your comforter, plain as fucking day, is your vibrator. Might as well have put it in a display case in the living room with an informational plaque.

Eddie turns to look at you, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Eddie, don’t-”

“Ohhhhh-ho-ho, what is that!?” he laughs, craning his neck to get a better look. “No wonder you seem so off, is that what you were doing before I got home?”

Your face is beet red, and you know Eddie’s living for it. No point in lying to him, he’ll pry it out of you.

“It’s what I was doing… until the stupid battery died,” you grumble defeated, hiding your face in your hair.

“Aw, poor thing,” Eddie coos mockingly, poking your cheek with his index finger. “Her sparkly little toy died, what a shame,” he tuts, stroking his chin as if contemplating how bad he should feel for you.

“Shut up, Eddie…” you groan, throwing your head back against the door frame. “Can you like, leave again for 20 minutes? Go sit in the hallway? ‘M all pent up now,” you’re half-joking, and he laughs.

“I mean, I could leave…” he starts, “-ooooor, I could help you out.”

Your eyes almost pop out of your head as you look at him.

“What? I’m just offering. I think I can work you better than a piece of plastic,” he smirks at you as you playfully slap him on the arm.

“This isn’t funny, you asshole!” you try to sound frustrated but a laugh pokes through, giving you away.

“I’m not being funny! I’m serious. The offer stands.”

You look at him in silence for a moment, really trying to get a read on his expression. His eyes flit from yours to your lips and back up again. Shit, he’s serious.

“Fine. Okay, yeah,” you give in, telling yourself it’s out of desperation but really, you’re just curious what he’s like. Eddie was hot, after all.

He doesn’t even hesitate, just pulls you into his room. He sits on his bed, motioning for you to join him. You straddle his lap, a little unsure at first, but his hands find your ass and squeeze, making the ache between your thighs grow stronger. He cups your face in his big hands, pulling you in to kiss you. His lips are soft, so soft, and you find yourself melting into it way easier than you thought you would. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, tasting you.

You grind your hips down on his thigh, aching for friction of any kind as your mouths move together. Eddie’s grip on your ass returns, you rut your hips against his thigh once more and you feel him smile into the kiss. He moves down to kiss your jawline, your neck, your ear, all while you’re basically humping the poor man’s thigh. Whimpering pitifully as your hips rock against him, you can feel the wetness pooling in your underwear. You need more, need a release so so badly, but you’re too embarrassed to make the next move. Eddie senses your neediness, your whines increasing in pitch and your movements growing more sloppy.

“C’mon baby, getting yourself all worked up. Use your words. Tell me what you want,” his voice is right in your ear, breath hot on your skin.

“Want more, Ed,” you pout, trying to wiggle your hips but he holds you in place.

“What do you want, sweetheart? Have to tell me.”

You roll your eyes, and the look on his face suggests that you shouldn’t do that again.

“Want you to make me cum, Eddie, please. I need it,” your tone is desperate, voice whiny and pitiful.

He’s smirking at you, and you wanna wipe the smugness off of his face. Heat pools between your thighs.

You point a finger at him as if in warning. “This is a one time thing, Munson. Got it?”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” he gives you a lopsided smile before laying you down on the bed, stripping your bottom half bare.

Eddie works to unravel you with his face between your thighs, licking and sucking your sensitive clit. You feel like you really should care a little more about the fact that this is your roommate doing this to you, but you certainly can’t find it in yourself to get him to stop. You’re completely at his disposal as his tongue searches your folds, unrelenting in his mission to get you off. With how pent up you are, it doesn’t take long.

“Fuck, Eddie, feels so good,” you’re moaning out, hands tangled in his hair as tips you over the edge.

His tongue doesn’t stop its ministrations until you’re physically flinching away from him, too overstimulated to let him continue. His chin is shiny with your release as he pulls away to look up at you, grinning something stupid.

“What, Eds?” you ask him, breathless as the words come out.

“Y’sure you want this to be a one time thing?”

I guess one more can’t hurt.

If you spent the rest of the night with Eddie’s face buried between your thighs, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you, well, that’s between you and him.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson blurb #leah’s got mail 💌#my mutuals 🫶🏻#ashley 🦄

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spider-jaysart · 1 year

Text

Bruce and Clark bringing both baby Damian and Jon to a JL meeting for the first time:

The Justice League members: Talking to eachother about something important

Clark and Bruce: Walk into the place

The Justice League Members: Stop their conversation and turn around to see who it was that came in, seeing that it's just Clark and Bruce carrying their two new babies in a baby carrier on their chest

Also the Justice League members: Quickly light up in excitement and joy as they all immediately go to greet the two heroes adorable babies for the first time

Diana, happily: Are these your new babies?

Clark, with a smile on his face: Yep! This is Jon!

Bruce: This is Damian

Dinah: So that's who Damian and Jon are. Hello, cuties! (happily waves at the little two as they both giggle and try to wave back to her in response)

Hawkgirl: Cutie pies!

Diana: Ohhh and just look at their cute little cheeks (goes to lightly pinch their cheeks)

Baby!Damian: slaps her hand away

Diana: Awww and he's a little fighter too! How adorable!

Dinah: Maybe they can have playdates with our son Conner sometime

Clark: Sure! That sounds like it could be fun for them

Hal: They're both little cuties! They look just like you guys!

Clark, playfully ruffling Jon's hair: Thanks! He really does, doesn't he?

Bruce: Damian may be cute but... he can also be very feral

Barry, getting a closer look at Damian: Aww but he doesn't seem so scary to be around, he's adorable!

Baby!Damian: Some how jumps out of his baby carrier and jumps at Hal's face

Hal, falling back: Ahhhhhhh! Help! I'm being attacked by an angry baby!!!!

Barry, immediately while Bruce just has a blank expression: I'll save you, Hal!

Oliver, to baby Jon: Awww, do you want to see me be cool and shoot some arrows? Oh, yes, I bet you do!

Baby!Jon: Happily giggling and clapping his hands in response

Arthur: Oooor maybe he would perfer to see me do some really cool tricks with my triton instead

Oliver: No, he obviously wants to see me be cool, which is something you definitely aren't, Aquaman

Arthur, offended: You take your cruel word's back!

Oliver, glaring at Arthur:..... No

Bruce, annoyed: Shouldn't you all be focusing on more important things? Like League work?

Diana, playing patty cake with Jon: Oh, c'mon, Bruce. We're just trying to get to know the little two

Bruce, grabbing Damian off of Hal's face since Barry failed to do it himself: And you already did, so it's time to get back to work

Baby!Damian: Begins to cry

Bruce, pinching his nose due to being able to smell Damian's diaper: Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go change Damian's diaper and when I get back, I want to see you all getting busy with your work

The League members watching Bruce as he walks away: .....

Also the League once Bruce is gone: Immediately go straight to interacting with Clark and Baby!Jon again

Later, after changing Damian's diaper:

Bruce, comes back with a clean diaper hanging on his head that Damian threw at him as he sees the League still cooing over Baby!Jon: Ahem!

The League: Turns to look at him

Hal, as if he and the rest of the group are being interrupted: What?

Bruce, annoyed, as he throws the wasted diaper off of his head: Can we get back to focusing on our work already? We have important things to do

Soon, Bruce and Clark put both baby Damian and Jon in their baby gate so that they can play with eachother while they work

Baby!Jon, as Bruce and Clark go to have their League meeting at the nearby table: Tries to grab a toy from Damian's side

Baby!Damian: Hits Jon's hand to say no, sadding the little half Kryptonian after he does

Meanwhile, with Clark and Bruce:

Clark, after Bruce hit his hand: Hey! Rude!

Bruce: That's my pen and whenever I let someone around here use my pen, they never give it back to me, so don't even think about touching it

Clark: Okay, jeez, Grumpy

Baby!Damian, after standing up: Does a literal flip that he learned from Talia to get out of the baby gate

Also Baby!Damian as he's walking away from his baby gate: Quickly waves over at Baby!Jon to follow him

Baby!Jon: Tries to his best to jump outside of the baby gate a couple of times but fails and begins to float in the air instead to escape with his best friend

Damian and Jon both then runaway together to go have some fun in the League base

Meanwhile:

Diana, with shopping bags on her arms as she's holding two fluffy teddy bears in her hands: Hey, can I give these to Damian and Jon? I just bought them

Clark, confused: Wait- huh? You just went out shopping in the middle of the meeting? How did I not see you leave-

Diana, cutting him off: Can I give this to them, yes or no?

Bruce: Only after it's passed inspection

Diana: What?

Bruce, grabbing the teddy bear that's meant for Damian as Clark simply takes the one that's meant for Jon: You never know what crazy villains may be disguised as some Toy shop keeper and could be selling you things that you don't even know are secretly dangerous

Diana: .... They're just teddybears

Bruce, about to cut open the teddy bear to make sure it's safe: Not to me, until I know that for sure

Diana, seeing this: Hey! I paid for those!

Clark: (Quickly grabs the teddy bear away from Bruce, earning a glare from him) Uh, hey, you don't have to do that, Bruce. You could just put it through the X-ray scanner here and see it, you know?

Bruce, still glaring at him: Right, cause you just know everything, don't you?

Clark, as him Bruce both walk past Damian and Jon's baby gate to go scan both bears (to calm Bruce's paranoia): (Gasp!) Bruce! The babies! They're gone!!! We have to go find them!

Bruce: (Drops Damian's teddy bear) We need to go search for them! Now! (Runs to go look for them with Clark following him from behind)

Back to Damian and Jon in the weapons room:

Baby!Damian: Happily playing with one of Diana's old swords

Baby!Jon: Giggling while throwing one of Oliver's extra arrows at the wall

They soon see a hole being created in one of the walls there

It is soon revealed to be the Joker who's breaking into the room through the walls as he's covered in armor and has some Kryptonite tucked away in his belt as well. He was planning to steal some of the Leagues weapons and use it against them

The Joker, bending down to Damian and Jon's very small height to get a better look at them: Ooooh, and who are these two little beans just sitting around?

Baby!Jon: Begins to cry after seeing the Joker's terrifying face very close in front of him

Baby!Damian: Gets mad that his best friend is crying and stands up in front of Jon, glaring at Joker

The Joker, amused by his young bravery: Oh, what are you going to do? Fight me?

Baby!Damian: Angrily pulls his nose

The Joker, in pain: Ahhhh!

The Joker, as he angrily grabs Baby!Damian and glares at him: Why youuu little-

Baby!Jon, in defense, Lasers the Joker's shoes, burning his feet with hot heat (but not enough to lit them on fire or laser them off)

The Joker: (Drops Baby!Damian and immediately grabs his feet in pain as he begins to hop around the room) Arrrggggh!!!

Baby!Jon catches Baby!Damian and helps him stand up

They both each grab a weapon from the room

Baby!Damian grabs one of Diana's old swords and swings it at the Joker, making him quickly move back

Baby!Jon, with one of Diana's old shields, throws it at the Joker's direction, knocking him down to the ground

The Joker then tries standing up, about to pull out the Kryptonite from his belt

Baby!Damian: Turns on a switch on one of the rockets that Cyborg created, making it quickly turn on and and fly in Joker's direction, knocking him out

They both then throw a random net on top of him and happily high five eachother and crawl out of the room through one of the vents there

Back to Bruce and Clark and the rest of the League who are looking for Damian and Jon:

Superman, using his x-ray vision everwhere: I can't see them anywhere!

Bruce: Keep looking!

Clark: Wait! I can hear something!

Bruce and the rest of the League listen with him in silence

Bruce, taking out a Batarang: In the vents! (Throws it at the vent, slicing it open as Damian falls out of it and falls safely into his arms giggling)

Clark then lasers through the vent, letting Baby!Jon also fall safely into his arms with a smile on his face as he joyfully claps his hands

The League members quickly surround them both, happy that Damian and Jon are okay

Hal, behind them: Hey guy's, you won't believe this! But... The Joker is knocked out in the weapons room!

Minutes later:

Diana: How did he get knocked out when no one was around to fight him?

Barry: What an idiot, he must've gotten himself knocked out while walking around in this room

Oliver: What do we do with him now?

Bruce, with a smile as he hugs baby!Damian who's in his arms, as Clark is also hugging Baby!Jon: We send him back to Arkham, but the most important thing here though is that these two are safe

Jon and Damian both happily giggle at the warm hugs from their Father's and soon fall asleep in their arms after the fun day they had together as the young Supersons

(I just wanted to do something silly and cute :) )

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astrophileous · 1 year

Text

Love Bugs (Pt. 01)

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

Synopsis: You and Derek Morgan have an arrangement. At work, your relationship is strictly business. Under the sheets, it's all about pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. Until, of course, your feelings start to get involved. Your situation is complicated enough without the unexpexted predicament that suddenly befalls upon you. But with a maniac serial killer on the loose, will you ever get the chance to make everything right?

Warning(s): 18+ NSFW SMUT, oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talk, slight mdom/fsub dynamic, praise kink (?), dubious consent (only because both of them are kinda drunk), alcohol consumption, cursing (a lot of it)

Word Count: 3700-ish

Author's Note: sooo I used to write for law and order svu a long time ago on my old account, but I haven't really picked up fanfiction writing for a long time now, but this is definitely a first time for me writing smut so pls keep that in mind lol. that being said, I was absolutely APPALLED by the lack of derek fanfics on this platform, hence why I decided to take matters into my own hand and wrote this little piece right here :) this fic is gonna be divided into several parts and I'll try to post an update asap. the tw will be adjusted accordingly on each part of the fic. I'll also be making a masterlist for the whole series hopefully sooner rather than later. in the meantime, I hope you enjoy the story below and don't forget to drop a like/comment/reblog xoxo

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Since the first time you met him, Derek Morgan was never less than 200 pounds of danger and charm, and he wore that fact with immense pride.

"I'm Derek," he offered smoothly, palm extended to shake yours the moment Hotch introduced you to the team.

"Nice to meet you," was your reply. His hand felt sturdy against your clammy one. "You can call me (Y/N). Or Beetle. Whichever works."

"Beetle?" Someone in the room interjected. You were pretty sure her name was Emily. "How'd you get Beetle from (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?"

"It's a childhood nickname. Kinda stuck." You shrugged. "It's a long story."

That was how everything started.

Flirtatious was Derek's second nature. You convinced yourself not to be swayed by the sweet nothings he kept on dropping wherever he went, especially when you began to understand more about his dynamics with Penelope Garcia. You were just another side quest in his little game, and Derek was merely eager to be the number one top player in the leaderboard.

But your heart, unfortunately, had always been much more vulnerable than your head.

And Derek Morgan, as you came to find out, was its biggest kryptonite.

"Hey, Bug." Derek had approached you after one particularly grisly case. The nickname he had chosen to adopt for you after a couple of weeks being on the team dripped easily from his tongue. "Drinks afterwards?"

"Sure. Who else is coming?"

"Just us two tonight, sweetheart." He winked.

You should have seen it coming.

You should have known that getting drinks late at night with Derek Morgan--alone--was going to be the start of your rapid downfall.

Derek Morgan was the kryptonite to your heart.

Yet then again, you always knew you were secretly a masochist.

"Okay, okay, back up a minute," Derek choked out in between laughter. "That's how you got the nickname Beetle?"

You were quite enjoying the sight in front of you. Twinkled eyes, carefree Derek, who was finally able to let himself loose thanks to the alcohol in his system. The smile lines on his face miraculously made him appear younger, and you could almost catch a glimpse of the young, ambitous football star he once had been before he began pursuing the life of law and justice.

"Yep." You nodded sheepishly, stirring the remaining liquor in the glass in front of you. "I didn't know, okay? How was I supposed to know that beetles can reproduce and multiply that much in the span of a couple of weeks? And frankly, I blame my teachers for failing to satisfy the curiosity of an eight-year old me."

"Alright. Blame the underappreciated heroes of this country, then. How were they supppsed to know you'd actually manage to cause a beetle infestation, Bug?" He pointed an accusatory finger at you. "Please tell me you got punished."

"I did. Mandatory volunteer work." Derek stared in disbelief at your answer. "Well, they wanted to suspend me, but my mother could be very persuasive."

"Meaning, she threatened to sue the school?" Derek raised an eyebrow, remembering the one time you told him that your mom was a lawyer before she passed away.

The rest of the night unraveled similarly. With more anecdotes shared and less sobriety kept, conversation with Derek flowed effortlessly. It felt like a swimmer being back in the water after a year-long sabbatical. Before the two of you realized it, hours had passed since you and Derek first stumbled into that bar, and the finale of an exhausting day had at last morphed into the premiere of a better one.

At Derek's insistence, he accompanied you on the taxi ride back to your apartment, ignoring the constant protest that you kept voicing out loud during the entire journey.

"This is absolutely unnecessary. I told you I'm fine," you grumbled as you staggered from the taxi towards your apartment bulding.

Derek caught up with you easily despite having to linger back to pay for the taxi fare. You stopped on the steps leading towards the front door, too busy fishing for your apartment key to notice that your balance had started slipping from your state of inebriation.

You laughed drunkenly when you felt yourself fall into a pair of strong arms. "Whoopsies. Sorry."

"Careful, Bug. Don't hurt yourself," Derek muttered softly.

Your whole body shuddered at the sensation of his breath on your ear. Derek had never felt this close before. Not even when you hugged each other goodbye or when you embraced one another after a close call in one of your cases. This time, his arms around you felt intimate. That fact alone managed to sober you up even if only for a fraction.

"Okay. I'm okay."

You scrambled out of Derek's firm but gentle hold, finally producing the offensive key from your purse before inserting it into the key hole.

"Thanks for taking me home. You didn't have to."

"I know." Derek raised his fingers, pushing away the strands of hair that had fallen over your eyes as a consequence of the passing wind. "I wanted to."

You stood there under the darkness, body nailed in place by a force far greater than anything you ever knew. Derek was looking at you with an unidentifiable gaze. One that seemed to burn brightly beneath his eyes, but warm and tender once they fell upon your skin.

The intensity was new. Overwhelming. It struck your core, stripping you bare of any defense left in both your body and soul.

Perhaps, that was exactly why the next words even managed to leave your mouth.

"You're pretty."

And God, he really was.

Derek Morgan was beautiful. All six feet and two inches of him. He looked pretty in the mornings when he slid a warm cup of hazelnut latte across your desk, and he looked just as pretty in the evening under the delicate strokes of moonlight.

At the sight of his amused beam in response to your sudden remark, you began to contemplate why anyone hadn't tried to claim him as the eighth wonder of the world.

"I'm pretty?"

"Very."

"I think you're prettier."

"Hm?"

Derek took another step forward, closing the distance between the two of you until the air you exhaled became the very one he breathed in.

"Good night, (Y/N)." The rare sound of your name out of his mouth made you shiver.

Derek exterminated the remaining gap between the two of you. For a second, your entire nerve endings stood in anticipation, waiting for the moment that his plush lips would touch yours.

They never did.

Instead, his kiss had landed on your cheek, viciously close to where the line of your lips started that you could almost picture how he would taste when you closed your eyes.

Derek started to pull away, but he never got further than a mere centimeter before you decided to take matters into your own hand and pressed your own lips to his inviting ones.

He tasted of alcohol and mint. But most importantly, he tasted of Derek. A distinctive sweetness that erupted the dormant butterfiles in the pit of your stomach. They began to soar freely inside of you under the influence of Derek's touch.

Your entire being was on fire. What started as sweet and alleviating soon turned into a contest of desperation. Before you knew it, you somehow had managed to unlock the front door and moved inside, all the way to the door of your own apartment.

When he nipped your bottom lip, you couldn't help but moan into the kiss.

"Fuck," Derek murmured against your lips after hearing the needy sound you just made. "Fuck me."

"I'm trying to," you said impatiently, scrambling to get ahold of his collar and brought his lips back to where they belonged.

Your ministrations screeched to a halt with Derek's hands around your wrists. "Hey. No, Bug. Stop."

Derek took a step back then, letting your hands fall back to your side. He never strayed far from where you stood against the wooden door, but even that tiny bit of distance was enough to make you crave more of him.

You needed to feel his body pressed up against yours, to have him incredibly close that you had no idea where he ended and you began.

"Derek, please..."

You should have been ashamed by how wretched your voice sounded, but you didn't care. You wanted him past the point of caring.

His smile was gentle and forlorn at the same time. "No, sweetheart. Not tonight."

Just like that, your heart plummeted straight out of your chest. "What?"

"Go inside, (Y/N). Get some sleep."

"No!"

Had it been any other day or any other person, you would have chastised yourself for your lack of propriety. But it wasn't any other person standing in front of you. It was Derek. Beautiful, kind, and courageous Derek. Your friend. Your kryptonite.

The oblivious owner of your heart.

"Don't go," you whispered. "Come inside. Stay with me tonight."

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

Your gut churned with dread. "Y-you don't?"

"Christ. I didn't mean it like that. Hey, look at me." He tugged a finger under your chin, forcing your eyes to stare into his dark ones. "You have no idea how much I want to. But you're drunk."

"So are you."

"Exactly my point."

"Derek--"

"I'm not gonna have you forget our first time in the morning just because you were too drunk to remember it, Bug."

The urge to chortle was almost unbearable.

Derek seemed to notice the comical mischief shining in your eyes. "What?"

"It's funny that you think I would ever forget the first time we fuck."

A breathy laugh rumbled out of his chest. "You're a menace, woman."

"A menace who wants you. Please, Derek," you started to whine. "I'm sober enough to give my consent. Hell, I could even recite the entire FBI oath to prove it if you want. You wanna see? I, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), do solemnly swear that I will support and defend--"

"Bug--"

"--the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic--"

"(Y/N)--"

"--that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same--"

You never did finish reciting the remainder of that oath.

The taste of Derek's lips on yours was an interruption you'd gladly welcome at any time of day. Through some sort of miracle, you managed to drag the two of you inside the safety of your apartment without ever breaking the kiss.

When it was time to come up for air, Derek's voice was raspy in your ear, "Sweetheart, I think--"

You didn't give him a chance to protest.

The kisses you peppered started on his neck. When your teeth gritted over his pulse point, Derek let out a low moan that vibrated through your entire being.

"Oh God..."

You continued showering kisses down his body, enjoying the way Derek had been bespelled by the magic of your touch. The buttons of his shirt came undone, and when you finally fell to your knees in front of him, you sucked hard on the skin where his abs met his pelvis.

"Shit. (Y/N), you don't... we don't have to--"

"For God sake, will you shut up?" You chuckled. "Did you not hear anything I said? Or should I just demonstrate how badly I want you right now?"

You took Derek's lack of further objections as permission to go ahead.

His buckle and pants came off pretty quickly. The next to go was his boxer, and the sight that greeted you afterward had your most intimate part gushing in excitement.

You wrapped your fingers around his hardening length. Tentatively at first, but the blissed out look on Derek's face only spurred you on even further.

"Is this okay?"

Derek gulped down before answering, "Yes."

You began to move your hand up and down, feeling Derek going stiffer and stiffer in your hand.

"Holy fuck," Derek cursed when you took his tip in your mouth.

He tasted divine on your tongue. It took a little while for your muscles to fully relax around his impressive size, but when they did, you began to bob your head back and forth, moving in tandem with the hand still wrapped around the rest of him that you couldn't fit entirely in your mouth.

"Yeah, just like that, pretty bug. You're doing so good," he panted.

Derek continued giving his praises, his words--along with his fingers in your hair--doing things to your body that had your thighs clamping down tightly. You began rocking in rhythm with the pace of your head and hand, trying to put pressure against the pulsing need inside your warmth.

"Fuck. Trying to relieve yourself, sweetheart? Sucking me off gets you all hot and needy, huh?" Derek moaned at the sight of you on your knees, teary eyed and full of him, writhing from the budding heat in the pit of your stomach.

You gave him one last suck before he pulled you up to your feet.

"Come here," Derek ordered before kissing you fervently.

He maneuvered the two of you from the doorway, following the direction to the bedroom that you had vaguely gestured at him. Once inside, Derek pushed you towards the bed while he threw his shirt onto the floor.

"You're naked," you mused in between giggles.

"And you're overdressed," he retorted. Your hands began to undo the buttons of your shirt before Derek's hand stopped them. "Let me."

He discarded your shirt in no time, your bra following not far behind.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered before leaving feathery kisses across your collarbone.

He started sucking on your nipple while fiddling the other one, enjoying the way your body reacted to every stroke of his tongue and every pinch of his fingers.

"Derek, please. I want to... I want--"

"Hm?" Derek paused his ministrations, keeping his hand busy by running it up and down your side. "What do you want, pretty bug? Tell me."

"I want you to touch me."

"I am touching you."

You whined. "You know what I meant."

With a chuckle, Derek left one last kiss on your breastbone before continuing his erotic journey southward. After sucking a mark underneath your belly button, he started fumbling with the button of your slacks.

"Fucking hell, sweetheart. You're soaked," he mulled out loud once you were free of the confine of your pants.

Even with your panties still standing as a barrier between Derek and your mound, you could feel every breath that Derek blew against your most sensitive part. There was no doubt surrounding the truth behind Derek's words. You could feel your wetness dripping down your thighs. It didn't exactly help that Derek had begun littering tiny kisses around your hip and pelvic bones.

When his lips made contact with your clothed core, the strangled moan you let out almost sounded animalistic.

"You taste so good," Derek said before diving in once again. "I could spend an eternity between your legs and die a very happy man."

"That's nice, but I don't want you to die just yet."

You tugged at his neck to bring his face back to yours, pressing both of your lips together in another heated kiss that had your toes curling inward.

"No more playing, please. I need you inside me right now," you rasped desperately.

"I still need to get you ready for me, sweetheart." Derek pecked your lips once more. "Why don't you lie back and relax, hm?"

Gingerly, you followed Derek's instruction. He made a quick work of removing your panties before his deft fingers began exploring your folds.

"So wet for me."

He inserted one finger at first, two, and then three inside your pulsing channel. It was a bit of a stretch, tight but not uncomfortable. Derek slid them in and out of you until you turned into a panting mess underneath him.

"Derek--"

He shushed you gently. "I know, Bug. I know."

He worked as if he was a musician and you were his favorite piece of instrument. The heel of his palm found solace on top of your bundle of nerves, drawing circles over and over again to the rhythm of his fingers inside of you.

Before long, you could feel the coil inside of your body snapping, sending your whole entire being shaking as you fell to the edge of a newfound ecstasy.

Throughout all of it, Derek kept his fingers sliding in and out of you, helping you ride your orgasm until your body had finally stopped spasming.

When you opened your eyes, you were welcomed with Derek's awed smile and warm eyes.

"Hi, gorgeous," you murmured breathlessly, still floating along the aftermath of your earlier pinnacle.

"Hey," he whispered back, kissing your temple with the most delicate of touches. "How are you feeling?"

"Blisfully sated."

Derek laughed at your overtly honest answer.

"Are you tired?" he then asked. "Because we don't have to do anything else if you feel--"

"Derek Morgan, I swear to God. If you try to talk me out of this one more time..."

His responding grin was mischievous. "Yes, ma'am."

After one last kiss to your lips, Derek started lining himself up with your entrance. The sensation of his tip pressing against you awakened the momentarily satiated hunger inside your lower belly. And when he finally entered you--slowly but surely--you could physically feel the air being punched right out of your lungs.

"Oh my God," you breathed out once he had filled you to the brim. "You're huge."

"And you're so fucking tight."

He pulled out his length until only his tip was left inside before driving back in with enough force to shatter your entire world. In no time at all, Derek had finally found a steady rhythm. Moving in and out of you while his lips and hands paid attention to the other parts of your body.

"Derek, Derek, Derek," you moaned his name endlessly, relishing every drag of his member against the pulsating muscles of your inner wall.

You could feel every ridge of him inside of you, along with every brush of kisses that he scattered all over your skin, every lazy drag of fingers on the curvatures of your body. All of your senses had been heightened around the presence of him.

"So fucking beautiful. Fuck. Such a good bug for me, hm? So desperate for my cock that you couldn't even wait to sober up."

The heat of Derek's words fueled your fire even further. You began to writhe underneath him, scrambling to make sure that every inch of you was touching every part of him.

"Tell me how good I'm making you feel," Derek ordered between his thrusts.

"So good, Derek. Oh God, you feel so good inside of me. Please, please, please."

Your desperation was the motivation he needed. Derek shifted you both until he was on his knees and your body lying halfway across his lap. When he continued to move again, the vigor of his pace nearly had you seeing stars.

"You feel like heaven, pretty bug. So tight and warm. Bet no one can fuck you as good as I do."

"No one, Derek. No one."

"Are you close, sweetheart? Hm? Tell me how close you are."

"I'm close. So close," you cried out. "I'm gonna... Derek, I'm gonna--"

As if he was reading your mind, Derek brought down his fingers and started drawing tight circles on your clit. All the while, he never relented the pace he had set inside your pussy.

"You wanna cum?" Derek groaned as he continued to nudge you further towards the edge.

You blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over, nodding your head frantically.

"Use your words, Bug."

"Yes, yes. I wanna cum. Please, Derek, make me cum."

And just like that, Derek sent a powerful thrust that had your toes curling, ears buzzing, and body shuddering.

Your second orgasm washed over you in big, tidal waves. A silent scream broken into desperate pleas and moans as you rode the high with Derek still inside of you. It didn't take long for him to follow behind. The sensation of you cumming around him became the very thread of his own undoing.

He spilled everything he had inside of you before his spent body fell into your arms. The air was heavy with the smell of sex and the panting of both of your breaths. You reveled in the aftermath of what just transpired, running your hands up and down the muscular back of the person responsible for your satisfied smile.

When Derek finally lifted his head up, he was adorning a smile identical to the one you had.

"That was--" you started, but struggled to find the right word to say.

Fortunately, Derek knew exactly what you meant. "Yes. Yes, it was."

He left a single kiss, then two, and three under your breast, before resting his chin back on the soft cushion of your abdomen.

"Derek?"

"Hm?"

You smiled at his tired hum. "You're sleepy, aren't you?"

"No," he replied, betraying the slight droop in his voice.

"That's okay. Go to sleep, baby."

You weren't even sure that Derek had heard your last statement, because not even two seconds later, he had started snoring softly against your skin.

Slowly as to not disturb the sleeping giant on top of your body, you pulled the comforter and tugged the edge across Derek's shoulders. Before long, you, too, were slipping into the deep slumber with Derek's steady intakes of breath as your lullaby.

Derek's weight on top of you was an anchor, one that you could have never dreamed of physically having outside of your hopeless fantasies. But Derek was real, and he was there with you in the comfort of your bedroom.

For a moment, everything was alright with the world. But then again, this was only the beginning of an unforeseen end. And as much as you wanted to convince yourself otherwise, you knew that inevitably, something was bound to go wrong.

You just hoped that when it did, you would have the strength to make it all right again.

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