It’s been done in every which way but Eddie being in an accident of some kind that leaves him paralyzed, but his doctors believe he could walk again with intense physical therapy
He’s stubborn and absolutely hasn’t dealt with any of the trauma of the accident and takes it out on his physical therapist, Steve, who is used to patients being pretty angry about their situation
He always meets Eddie where he is though, tries to keep a smile on his face and joke when appropriate and even shares his cookies from his lunchbox with him
Eventually, Eddie starts making some progress, but instead of being happy about it, he panics and cancels all his PT appointments for the week
Steve tries calling, texting, emailing, doing everything he can to encourage him to keep going, but it all goes unanswered until Gareth, one of Eddie’s closest friends, calls him on Eddie’s phone
He’s depressed and he won’t get out of bed, he’s given up. He’s tired of being in pain and having to try to so hard just to move his damn legs a little
Steve isn’t usually this personal with clients, and tells Gareth he can’t discuss anything medical with him due to patient confidentiality, but insists he should try to drag him to the office the next day before it opens
And somehow, probably through guilt, Gareth manages to wheel a very sullen and grumpy Eddie into the side door entrance to the office at seven in the morning
Steve tells him to come back in an hour to pick him up and Eddie ignores the goodbye Gareth says to him
And Steve pretends nothing is wrong at all, goes through the usual temperature and blood pressure check, asks how he’s feeling and gets a grunt in response, asks if there’s any pain and gets an eye roll
But Eddie met his match in Steve because Steve then pushes him to the center of the workout room, where a large mat is out and a walker is set to the side
“What’s that?”
“Your walker.”
“I don’t need one seeing as I can’t fucking walk.”
“You are today.”
And Steve knows he’s pushing and he hates being pushy
But he knows what his clients are capable of, and he knows without a single doubt in his mind that Eddie is ready to use the walker for five to ten minute increments. He has the leg strength and the stubbornness, he just needs the belief in himself
“Do you want me to hurt myself worse?”
“Of course not. And if you get tired, the seat on the walker is right there. But you can walk and you will walk.”
“And if I call Gareth to come get me right now?”
“Then I don’t believe my services are of value to you anymore and I’ll wish you the best.”
It pained Steve to say it because he knew he was fucking good at what he did, maybe the best in town. His clients often had to wait for his availability to open for weeks or months at a time because of how many people were referred to him
But he said the right thing because Eddie huffed, groaned, and cursed under his breath before wheeling himself to the edge of the mat to hold onto the walker
He pulled himself up
His legs were shaking from not being used for the last few days more than the bare minimum, but his determination was clear
Steve slowly pulled the chair away as Eddie unlocked the brakes of the walker and glared at Steve as he took one step, then two
Sure, he was relying pretty heavily on the walker, maybe more than Steve would’ve liked to see, but he was moving
He made it across the mat and then locked the brakes, sat down on the pad on the walker, and gave a sarcastic grin to Steve
“Happy?”
“Are you?”
And maybe Eddie wasn’t ready to be asked that because he was suddenly sobbing, covering his face as tears flowed down his cheeks
Steve gave him a few seconds before moving to kneel in front of him, pulling his hands away
“You deserve to have your life back, Eddie. You’ve been lucky to have the chance to walk again. Let’s not waste it, okay?”
Eddie spent the rest of the session walking across the mat and taking breaks every two minutes or so
It was better than Steve even expected, but he reminded Eddie not to do too much at once
Eddie didn’t miss any more appointments with Steve, and every appointment, he seemed to be more charming and flirty, more like “the old Eddie” according to Gareth, who drove him most days
Steve never admitted it out loud, but he knew what he felt for Eddie was different from other clients. It felt more personal, and it felt like it could be more someday
When Eddie graduated to a cane, Steve’s services were officially no longer needed
And Eddie decided that he should probably take Steve out on a date
“Since I can walk and hold your hand now,” he winked.
Steve should say no, but he doesn’t
Because holding Eddie’s hand feels even more right as his boyfriend than it did as his physical therapist
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Babe congrats on quitting!!!
I live coworker!James sm he is so lovely and i cant heló bit asking for more
R having a bad day and James doent know until he teeases her and she just like opens up to James a bit more?
thank you!!
You can’t escape Remus’ sweet questions of concern, though he’s tactful. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Remus asks, James a haunting somewhere near the customer complaints desk.
“I’m fine.”
“You really don’t wanna come to dinner with me?”
It’s a nice offer, but Remus is part of a package deal, and he’s the only one of the three who isn’t exhausting; Remus’ boyfriend Sirius is well meaning but so beautiful and so alarmingly aware of it, while James is all those things too, but much less subtle about it. “I’m too tired for the walking, thank you. I’m just gonna stay here and eat my sandwich in slow bites.”
Remus laughs, wrapping his scarf tight around his neck. He doesn’t tuck it under his coat. Sirius will do that for him. It’s heartbreaking to see every day, a reminder of real love in the world that will seemingly never touch you, but it’s cute too.
James rockets back to his desk. He’s always in a hurry. Half-frantic, he pulls his rucksack from under his desk and unzips the main body. To your horror, he unveils a large Tupperware of white rice, asparagus, and what looks to be chicken thighs. Next comes his portable knife fork.
He notices your watching. “It’s just rice and chicken,” he says defensively.
“No, I’m not–” You shake your head. “Not about what you’re eating. Eat what you want, James.”
“Don’t I always?” he asks. “Not about what I’m eating. Your general look of disgust and disdain is to do with something else, then. Did you accidentally look in the ladies bathroom mirror again?”
“It’s nothing.”
James tucks his chair in, face paused, hands hesitating at the sides of his dinner and then flat to the desk. “Hey, is something wrong?”
Maybe his comment before struck a nerve. Maybe you’re having a terrible day, and everything’s piling up, and you can’t be expected to keep in your feelings forever. Or maybe you’re dumb. “Guess I did look too long in the mirror,” you say.
“You’re upset?” he asks, startled.
You shake your head vehemently. Slow. “I’m just having a bad day.”
“What happened?”
You stare at him for a moment, take in the concerned twitch of his brows as they pull down and in, the set of his nice mouth, remarking to yourself on how the snarky sarcasm erases itself from his expression so quickly, leaving behind a boy with a very sweet face.
His hand curls into a loose fist. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“I don’t know if you ever get this, but sometimes I,” —your face goes white hot suddenly, an acknowledgment of the powers over you you’re giving him in needing reassurance— “look at myself and I feel a bit off. And I thought if I had lunch by myself I’d have time to not be looked at? Um. Which is why I was unhappy. Not because of you.” You frown at him. “You do make me unhappy, though.”
He pretends to laugh at your weak insult, which is generous. “So you actually did get upset looking in the mirror? Shortcake, I was kidding about that, it's not like it makes any sense.”
You frown at one another. “Why not?”
“Because you’re nothing worth being upset over?” James suggests. “You’re pretty. You know you’re pretty.” He points at you with his fork. “You do know?”
“No,” you mumble.
“I’m not telling you again,” he says, looking strangely as though he’d quite like to tell you again.
“I’m consistently below average.”
“Where? Do you have an address? I must go to this place where you’re the standard.”
Something weird and queasy summons to life in your chest, before levelling into a surprising pleasure. That was definitely a compliment, and from James, though annoying he might be, it means a lot. He’s outrageously good looking, after all, and especially when he smiles, which is nearly constant. He’s smiling now with the fondness of someone who knows you better than he actually does.
He ruins it rolling his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. Which I’ve come to expect!” he says, sliding a thumb under the clasp of his Tupperware. “Why would you think you’re not lovely? To look at, that is. You’re a huge pain otherwise.”
“That’s uncharacteristically mean, even for you.”
“I’m balancing it out. Want some asparagus?”
You excuse yourself for a quick trip to the bathroom, where you mouth questions at your reflection of the puzzled variety. Has James been replaced by a body snatcher? Or are you finally seeing the version of him everybody else in the office seems to know?
When you get back to your desk, your figurines have been upended by a ‘freak earthquake’. He’s back to normal.
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I Promise
Han Jisung x Reader
▹Genre: Angst - the type that makes you shed a tear
▹Summary: Jisung finally realizes what he's been putting you through and he vows to fix it.
▹Word Count: 1.8k
▹Warnings: Description of a panic attack
▹This One shot was Inspired by the song Til u say i go by NIve
✧ Masterlist ✧
“Stop saying that. Stop saying that this isn’t working, why are you giving up so easily?” The vase of wilted roses on the dining table shook as Jisung’s tightly closed fists banged lightly against the mahogany. You feel something like the roses in front of you, what was once a beautiful and vibrant gift from the lover sitting across from you is now a wilted reminder of what once was. You’re tired, burnt-out.
“You think this is easy for me? This is the hardest thing that I’ve ever had to do but I’ve had more than enough time to think about this. I’ve had more than enough lonely nights to know that I am sick and tired of this desolate feeling in my chest.” You rise to your feet quicker than you intended, you turn away from the man in front of you as tears well up at your waterline.
“I’m doing what I can, you know that I’m doing what I can. You knew how this would go, you knew that I’d be busy, that my schedule would be packed. I promised you that I’d come home when I can and I have kept that promise -”
“ - you’ve been at the dorms more than you’ve been in this kitchen. You’ve slept there more than you have ever slept here, I’m sure that you have more clothes in your closet there than you do here, so are you really keeping your promise?” The exasperated sigh that falls from Jisungs lips as your feet lead you through the threshold leading to the living room is all the answer you need.
“You’re not being very fair. You know how busy it’s been, I only just got back to Seoul today, we’ve been all over the place, I’ve been all over the place.” He stares at you from the same threshold that you crossed moments ago. “I wasn’t aware that you felt so…”
His wide eyes meet your glassy ones as you allow the tears that you’ve been holding back to spill over your puffy lids like a glass filled to the brim. He steps towards you and with each pitter patter of his bare feet against the hardwood you feel that overflowing glass inching closer to the edge of shattering.
“Tell me.” You allow him to cup your cheek, the rough pad of his thumb wipes a stray tear as he continues to whisper. “Tell me everything that you’ve been keeping in there.”
His other hand rests over your heart for just a second before the palm finds a home against your other cheek. You can feel his faint trembling against you and it’s only now that you notice the erratic pattern of his breathing.
“Do you know how long the nights feel when I’m in that big bed all by myself?” Your lids flutter shut at the sound of your own whisper and you can feel it all coming up, word vomit with an untitled emotion, it's right at the back of your throat. Too thick to swallow. “I’ve stopped making the bed at this point, I stopped buying groceries to accommodate your presence because you’re never at the dinner table anymore.”
Your voice starts to settle into a steady yell as you continue but you can’t stop it. Everything's coming up at once. All of the nights sleeping alone, all of the tears you’ve shed, all of the times you’ve needed the support of a partner that is never there, that can rarely ever pick up the phone. It all comes pouring out in shouting syllables that leave Jisung stumbling back with tears of his own trailing down his cheeks.
“I called you, I called you last week and I needed you, I needed to hear your voice but all I heard was your voicemail. I didn’t even get a text from you that night, I waited hours for you to call me back. I waited and I waited but there was nothing and here we are six days later and you still haven’t asked me why I called.” You choke on your own shout as you take an inhale so sharp that it could’ve cut your larynx. Your throat tightens at the memory of last week. You sat in front of your phone for as long as you could just waiting, just hoping that Jisung would return your call but he never did. You waited and waited until the face that reminds you of him everyday pulled you out of your haze.
Just as you fall to your knees in a choked sob that very face emerges from the dimly lit threshold, Jisung hears the tiny footsteps and swiftly shields your body from her line of sight.
“Mommy, why you cry again?” You sob harder at the sound of her small curious voice. This is all enough to break Jisung, the anxiety in his chest is quickly boiling over into self hatred. The palpable pain lingering in the air is all the proof that he needed to know that you’re right, he didn’t keep his promise. “Appa, is mommy okay?”
“Mommy is- mommy is going to be alright. Appa is trying to fix it, okay?” The brown hair girl hugged her stuffed animal closer to her chest as she took a step towards her father. Jisung was fighting for his life as he did his best to hold back the sob that was rattling against his ribs.
“Come on, let's go back to bed so that I can help mommy, okay?” Jisung’s voice is barely above a whisper but it was enough for the little one in front of him to agree as she held her arms out towards him. He scooped his daughter up and held her close as he made his way down the dimly lit hallway, leaving you and your sorrows to seep into the dark wood beneath your knees. He could nearly hear the heavy tears spilling onto the flooring, he’s sure that the residue of your deep despondency will stain the flooring. His heart aches with sadness and regret as it all sinks in and he swears that what ‘s left of his resolve breaks when his daughter grabs him by his face and kisses the tip of his nose. A sweet whisper leaving her lips as her hopeful words loomed over his head.
“Please fix momma.” That’s when he knew that he would never be able to make things right. Once he heard the latch catch on your daughter's bedroom door the latch holding the emotion trapped in his chest broke open and he sobbed so violently that it made no sound. All that he could hear was panicked ringing as he sunk to the ground and hung his head. His tears soaked into the soft denim of his jeans as all of your words echoed through his head.
His breath caught in his throat and his hands raked through his hair aggressively until they grabbed at the roots and pulled as hard as they could. Time seemed to slow down as he realized what’s been happening. While he’s out in his own world the one that he built with you is crumbling. He got too comfortable, he allowed a thick frost to cover his lens and when he couldn’t see through them anymore he filled in the blanks with the answers that he wanted. He told himself that you were fine, that you’ll understand and that he was barely even missed. That frost was so thick, so blinding that he fooled himself into hurting you.
“Han.” Your hoarse panicked tone is what snaps him out of his thoughts. He blinks a couple of times, trying his best to clear his blurred vision and concentrate. “Jisung, breathe, please.”
It’s only then that he notices the burning in his chest, he sucks in a harsh breath but it’s not enough. He coughs before trying again, the feeling of your soft hands rubbing against his clothed thighs grounds him quicker than he could manage to do by himself. Before he can fill his lungs completely his arms are around your waist. He pulls you into him as he rests against the pale painted wall of the hallway, you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him against your chest as he struggles to regulate his breathing.
“I’m so -”
“- I know, Ji.” He takes a deep inhale and your soft scent makes his muscles tense before relaxing a bit too much. He’s missed this, he’s missed you.
“I- I know that I hurt you. I haven’t been here for either of you but if you please, just please give me a chance to fix this. I’ll take time off, I’ll adjust my schedules and I’ll come home no matter the time. I’m sorry, I’m sorry that I’ve been so absent I didn’t think that-”
“And what happens when you run out of days off? We’ll be a happy family for a month or two and then I'll be sleeping alone again?” He pulls away from you, watery eyes staring into yours with so much sincerity, so much passion.
“I won’t leave you alone again, I’ll do what I can, I’ll do more than they let me. I’ll find a way, if you just let me stay, if you let me try again I promise that I will make up for this pain for the next million years, Jagi, please.”
“Ji...Jisung if this doesn’t work then -”
“Then I’ll leave, I’ll pack my stuff and I’ll give you anything that you need to live a comfortable life without me but that won’t happen. If you give me this chance I will stay by your side until you tell me to leave. I’ll stand by you every day until you scream and yell and beg me to go but please give me the chance to fix what I’ve done.”
“You can’t promise me that everything will change.” Your eyes wander down his frame, a forlorn glint in your eyes. Jisung’s hand takes its familiar position on your cheek, pulling your attention back to him as he takes a rigid breath.
“I can and I will.” His eyes search yours as he tries to grasp onto the hope that’s flying away from you. Maybe he’s making a promise that’s bigger than himself, maybe he can’t do it, maybe he can’t fix you and he’ll break his daughter's heart but he has to try. He has to.
He leans into you and you welcome the feeling of his exhale clashing with yours, his blushed lips brush against your soft ones before he presses the softest kiss to them. It’s loving, it’s hopeful, it’s Jisung and you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. He whispers against your lips between kisses, his words are airy and desperate but he means them and they mean everything to you.
“I promise.”
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Cash Slave, reporting in...
Good morning, master. State Trooper Hernandez reporting!
I hope you're doing well since the last time we saw each other. Again, I can't apologize enough for pulling you over on the highway. I had no idea you were such an amazing hypnotist. Thank you again for letting me get off easy and only making me taze myself twice! I was paralyzed in that muddy ditch for awhile, but you could've given me a helluva worse punishment!
Your instructions aren't negotiable, so I made sure to snap a photo before I started my shift today. As you suggested, I've been eating a box of donuts every morning, and I've packed on a hefty 30 lbs since I've started. My wife has complained, but I know you want me to look more like a cliche of law enforcement!
I'll stop by your house to drop off my paycheck tonight after work. I won't forget to pick up some pizza for you and your friends on the way: extra sausage, just like you said!
See you tonight, master!
Hello sir.
It's been a week since you came into my shop, and I've followed everything you said. I didn't agree with it at first, but you convinced me with that little pendant.
You were right! I really am beneath powerful men like you. Filthy blue-collar workers aren't worthy to lick the dirt off your shoes. You were right to point that out, and you were right to tell me to embrace it. When the world looks at me, they shouldn't see a man. They should see a grease monkey at the bottom of society.
That's why I haven't showered or changed in seven days. My BO is uncomfortable to work in, but I know it's just a reminder of what I am. I used to be proud of my job. Ha! I used to look down on suits like you, but I'm nothing in comparison; just a tool at your disposal.
Anyways, I cleaned and waxed your old car as fast as I could. I know I lent you my convertible, but you're welcome to keep it. I put a lot of sweat and blood in fixing her up, but like you said, fancy cars are meant for you to drive and me to maintain.
Stop back in my garage anytime. White-collar men like you get free service here! It's not the place of any lowly laborer to get in the way of what you want.
Thank you again, sir.
Hello boss.
Just started another long day of window washing! It's another hot one, but I'll keep my head down and sweat through it like usual.
I've gotta say, it's days like this that make me miss the comforts of my old corporate desk job. I'd kill for some AC right now, but I remember how much you made me realize I hated that career. Like you said, I'm much better suited to a life of mindless cleaning.
It turns out you're the real one with a knack for business strategy because all of your advice has been genius! The income is dependent on the hours I put in, and since I'm working for half the price of all competitors, I've gotten a monopoly on the market! I've fully booked all seven days for the next five or so weeks, so I'll be washing windows non-stop!
The business is already booming! I've been billing customers to your bank account, so you should already see all the profit in there!
Later today, I'll make a note of the minimum I need to replenish the cleaning supplies I'm running through. I'd also be grateful if you loaned me a bit for personal use, but it's understandable if you can't spare any! We agreed that I wasn't working for a salary, and I'm fine with that! I've been sleeping in the company van the last few weeks and it's more than good enough for me!
Don't worry, boss. I'll get back to work!
Tell my wife hello for me, master!
Working on a rig has been isolating. The job is brutal, the days are long, and every night I head back to our bunks covered in oil. I thought I'd at least get to bond with the other guys, but most of us are too tired to do anything but eat and sleep after our shift.
The only thing that's getting me through it is thinking about you. I know I also have a girl at home, but you were the one that gave my life purpose. I was never going to make money as an actor, and you helped me see that! You were the one that convinced me to go for this ridiculous job in the middle of the ocean, and now I'm making a ton of money!
You deserve it all.
I wouldn't have seen any of this cash if I hadn't stuck around after your stage hypnosis show. I still remember the wild look in your eyes when you came up with this idea for me. I also remember that hungry look you had when you saw my wife. It was impossible to say no.
Oh, and thanks for keeping my wife company while I'm gone. A man like you deserves her attention more than I do. Like you said, I doubt I was pleasing her to begin with. The only thing I'm good for is earning money, and I hope you're enjoying it because it sure isn't easy to earn!
I gotta get back, but I wanted to let you know that I signed up for another six months like you suggested. It's lonely, but I'm happy to do it, master!
Son, or should I still call you 'sir'?
I'm not sure if I your new title applies through text as well? Being your dad and your servant can be a bit confusing, but I don't mean disrespect you! Just let me know.
My workout is done and I'm headed back to your house. I signed the deed over to you this morning, so you officially own it now! Like usual, I'll clean the place from top to bottom. I've got all the mops and cleaning supplies in my van and ready to go. Since it's Friday, I'll start on the weekly yard work; mowing, weeding, etc... I don't want to bore you with the details, but it'll take the majority of the day to keep your place in tip top shape!
As I understand it, you are having friends over tonight, so I'll prepare a three course meal for eight. I ironed my apron this morning so I should look like a more presentable waiter than last night when I served your food!
As always, please let me know if there's any other way I can be of service today or tonight.
I'll be awaiting your return, sir.
Hey little bro,
I just finished my workout at the gym with dad. We're both hitting PRs and we're really starting to see some results! Still can't believe you hypnotized his dumb ass to think he's your butler! That man looks so stupid changing from gym clothes into a bowtie and gloves. He's constantly calling you 'sir' too, even when you're not around.
He's such an idiot.
Anyways, I'm all dressed and ready for my new job. You were totally right. I'm going to be so much happier as a clown instead of a wrestler. I'm about to head out to my first gig; a ten year old's birthday party. I think he's the kid of someone I used to compete with. It might be a little awkward, but it won't affect my routine. I've got an afternoon of pies in the face and self-deprecating humor ahead of me.
I made sure to tell the guy who hired me that I'm willing to stay after and clean up. Kids make a huge mess after all. I just hope he won't be too weird about me being a clown at his son's party. We may have been rivals in the past, but that was back when I wrestled. Now I'm just a joke for hire. He's technically my boss for the day, so I'll have to get used to taking orders from him.
Wish me luck, bro. I'll give you the money after the dad dismisses me. Let's hope I make a good clown!
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scary dog privileges — python333
— — — —
synopsis ur super duper scary to almost all 141 soldiers, but to price soap ghost and gaz ur just the sweetest little thing ever :3
relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.
characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.
word count 4.6k
warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], no usage of c/n [call sign chosen for this fic is 'Cerberus'!], might sound kind of rushed/shitty :{
note normally i try not to rush fics BUT i started this at like 12 pm and as im typing this out its 11 pm and ive only written 2285 words so im kind of rushing this so i can keep up my little posting daily thing!! this idea has also been rotting in my brain for a while, so i might make a hcs thing from it, idk, but for now its just this fic!! also, thank you everyone who gave reblogged my last fic, reblogs are the best sorta motivation for a reader and i absolutely appreciate all of them :> anyway this is all fluff + comfort no hurt and has some soft!ghost in it because hes my dad and i love him so enjoy!!
The Private in front of you may as well have been pissing his pants with how scared he looked. His commanding officer, and one of your closest friends, Soap, had reported him to you for ‘insubordination’. He’d said, verbatim, when telling you about him, “I’d deal with him myself, but I’m too tired to,” so now you had to deal with one of his subordinates.
You sighed through your nose as you looked down at the Private in front of you, the latter comically small compared to you, both physically and mentally.
“Well?” You ask expectantly, raising an eyebrow at him, “Are you gonna tell me what happened?”
The Private shakily nods and you can hear him gulp, “Right, yeah, so basically, it was earlier this morning and I was following orders and everything, doing what I was supposed to, then I accidentally interrupted Soap while he was giving me orders, which I didn’t mean to do, I swear, I just wasn’t thinking and it happened and I just— I didn’t mean to do it. And then later on, we were both—me and Soap—talking with a few other people who I guess were some higher ranked soldiers from different tactical operations and I accidentally interrupted some of them. It was—”
“I’m sorry, hold on,” You put a finger up to silence him, to which he responds with immediate silence, letting you talk, “You don’t accidentally interrupt someone. Either you do it or you don’t. You don’t just slip up and interrupt your CO in the middle of him giving you orders. Secondly, always refer to Soap as ‘Captain MacTavish’, or ‘Captain’ if that’s somehow too hard for you, don’t act like you get to talk about him like you’re both all buddy-buddy and—”
“Okay, but if you’d just let me finish—” The Private tries to interrupt you, making you draw your eyebrows together in confusion.
“Excuse me?” You ask, mildly offended that he had the audacity to interrupt you, “Did you just interrupt me?”
The Private stays silent for a moment, looking up at you, wide-eyed. His whole face looks even more stupid like this—like he doesn’t even know what he did.
“I asked you a question, Private,” You remind him, leaning down a bit, tilting your head to the side questioningly, “Did you just interrupt me?”
“Right, yeah, I did, sorry about that—” He tries to apologize, “Didn’t mean to. Swear.”
“Right,” You narrow your eyes at him, standing back up straight and crossing your arms, “Remember what I just said? About not accidentally interrupting people?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Could you say ‘Yes, Lieutenant’ instead of that?” You ask, “This isn’t a casual conversation. This is one of your superiors telling you that you can’t blatantly disrespect your commanding officer, so act like it.”
“Yes— Yes, Lieutenant,” The Private stammers, which really shouldn’t make your lips twitch at the corners but it does, and you have to fight off a smile, pursing your lips instead.
“Like I was saying earlier,” You continue your words from earlier, “In conversations like these, when you’re not out doing an assignment, I don’t want to catch you referring to Captain MacTavish as just ‘Soap’ ever again. And you don’t want me to catch you doing that either, you understand?”
“I understand, Lieutenant.”
“Good, good,” You nod, before gesturing for the Private to keep giving you his side of the story, “Continue telling me what happened then.”
“Right, so, after that, Captain MacTavish gave me some new orders, and I felt like I had a better idea of what to do than him because I’d thought of something that makes more sense than what he told me to do, so I told him as such, and he acted all shocked like I didn’t have a really good idea, and told me that I was to follow his orders not the ones I tried to give to myself so I told him that mine were better and—”
“Have you read the military regulations and codes of conduct? Ever?” You interrupt, making the Private shut up almost immediately and hesitantly nod his head affirmatively. “I really don’t believe you. Everything I’ve heard so far is a direct violation of it, I just—” You pause to give a small, humorless laugh, “You have me speechless here, really.”
The Private watches nervously as you struggle to find the appropriate words to say, before you finally come up with, “Is there more that you need to tell me about?”
“… Yeah,” The Private answers sheepishly, making you sigh through your nose and gesture for him to tell you the rest. He clears his throat before starting up again, “And then he said that he’s the commanding officer for a reason and that what he says goes so I said okay and did what he told me to do. Then after that whole thing, he told me to go to your office and tell you what I did.”
Why do I have to do all his dirty work? “… Okay then,” You look up at the ceiling and try to think of what to do, before taking a deep breath and looking down at the Private, muttering, “Well, I appreciate that you didn’t go into my office without my permission, at least you know not to do that.” You clear your throat before speaking louder, “Let’s head into my office instead of just standing out here. This is probably violating some sort of code…”
The Private nods and lets you unlock the door to your office that’s just a few steps away and walks in after you, being sure to close the door behind him. He automatically sits at the chair across from your desk and you sit down at your own chair behind your desk.
“Right, okay, let’s see…” You dig around the drawers of your desk, before letting out a small ‘ah-ha!’ and pulling a corrective action assignment form out of one of the small drawers of your desk and setting it onto the top of your desk. You grab a pen from the small cup by your desk and write down the date on the form in your usual neat handwriting.
You read a question on the form and look over at the Private, “Could you give me your full name, please?”
“John— John Williams,” The Private stammers again, making you raise an eyebrow.
“Your name is John-John Williams?”
“No, just John Williams, Lieutenant.”
“M’kay,” You write down his name and fill out a few more things on the form before signing it off with your name and looking over at the Private once again, folding the paper in half as you do, “I’m gonna trust you to bring this to Soap, and tell him that it’s from me. You think you can do that?”
“Yeah, of course,” John breathes out, grabbing the paper from you as you hand it to him.
“Yes what?”
“Yes— Yes, Lieutenant.”
“There we go,” You sigh and lean back in your chair, “Go on and pass that to him. And tell him to send anyone else who’s being insubordinate to Ghost or something, anyone but me.”
John simply nods and gets up, walking out your office door and making sure to close it behind him. You cap the pen you’d used and put it back in the cup where the rest of your writing utensils are, before yawning and leaning forward to rest your head on your desk when suddenly there’s a sharp knocking at your office door. You muffle a groan and wait a moment before calling out, “Come in!”
You watch as your door slowly opens, making a creaking sound that hurts your ears a bit, and much to your annoyance, yet another Private is standing in your doorway, looking just as sheepish as the last.
“Oh my f— you know what?” You stand up and take a deep breath to momentarily calm yourself, “Who sent you? Was it Soap?”
“… Yes,” The Private answers, their voice shaky as they speak to you, the whole thing only making you more annoyed.
“Where is he right now?” You ask, walking towards the door and opening it wider, towering over the much smaller Private in front of you.
“The— the training facility.” You blink at the Private and you take another deep breath to calm yourself.
“Yeah, no sh— ugh, you know what? Thank you. Just—” You look up at the ceiling and tell yourself not to snap at this poor rookie, and look back down at them, “Just follow me. I have to go yell at him.”
“What?” The Private asks dumbly, their eyes widening a bit in surprise.
You don’t bother to look over your shoulder and check that they’re following you, instead just walking out of your office, somehow hearing their footsteps even with the thundering stomping your boots made as you walked.
You eventually made it to one of the training facilities, the only one that currently had anyone in them, and opened the door louder than you meant to. You walked in, the shaking Private behind you as you walked up to Soap and took several deep breaths to calm yourself, ignoring the several rookies that stared at you as you walked over to him.
You could hear small whispers forming amongst Soap’s small platoon of soldiers, but ignored them as well, simply walking up to Soap, who finally noticed you. He turned to you and gave you a knowing grin, like he knew exactly why you were here.
“Hey, L.t—”
“Why have I had two Privates coming into my office telling me you sent them because you couldn’t do your damn job?” You question him immediately, ignoring the small gasp from the Private behind you, “Do you know how many CAA forms I have left? Three. Three forms. Because you can’t deal with your own rookies. If I wanted to be dealing with them, I would’ve let Price make me a CO. You know what I said when he asked me to be one? Fuck no. I said it for a reason.”
“… Sae ye din’t want me tae report onyone else tae ye?” Soap asks, like the little shit he is, in a teasing tone.
“Absolutely not.”
“Noted,” He nods, as if he understands, and gestures for the Private he’d sent to you to come back over to him, “I actually got yer message a minute ago from Williams. I think he almost shat himself.”
“I’m kinda happy about that, honestly,” You mutter, “Everything he told me was like… a direct violation of the code of conduct and was just so stupid.”
“I ken!” Soap agrees, “I swear, naebody reads the code ‘o conduct ony mair.”
“I asked him if he did, and he said yes, but I know he’s lying,” You roll your eyes before adding on, “And you know what? I’ve only had issues with British people ever since you and Gaz started reporting people to me. I think that they’re just the issue.”
“Jesus, I ken,” Soap mutters, “Fuckin’ Brits.”
“Fuckin’ Brits.” You nod in agreement, before sighing and looking over at the rest of Soap’s platoon. You look back at him, “I also told Williams to actually refer to you as ‘Captain MacTavish’, so… there’s that.”
“Guid, guid,” Soap nods, before clearing his throat and continuing,
“So did ye only come here tae yell at mae?”
“Yeah.” You admit, making Soap laugh lightly.
“And yer done now?”
“… I guess,” You mutter, making him chuckle and pat you on the shoulder.
“Guid,” He says, looking over at his group of soldiers he’s meant to be training, “I think yer scarin’ my soldiers more than mae.”
“How can you tell?” You ask sarcastically, following his gaze to the rookies that were trying their best not to look like they were eavesdropping when they clearly were. “They don’t even know we’re talking right now.”
Soap huffs out a small laugh, “Right, o’ course.”
“I’m gonna head back to my office and take a quick nap,” You let Soap know, “So don’t send me anymore people. They’re stinking up my office, it’s ridiculous.”
Soap raises an eyebrow at you questioningly, “Why don’t you just go to your sleeping quarters?”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
Soap raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, then.”
You huff out a tired breath and say, “So if anyone asks where I am, just let them know that.”
You don’t wait for a response before you walk away from Soap and immediately hear whispers starting up again, but you ignore them as you walk out the door, sort of used to them at this point.
You didn’t know why you were so scary to some of the lower-ranked soldiers (and even some of the higher-ranked ones), considering you never intentionally did anything to scare them. Sure, you were taller than most of them, and maybe just a bit quicker to lose your temper with people, but it was never that bad.
You vividly remember Gaz and Soap when they both found out a majority of the soldiers that were apart of the 141 were afraid of you or at least intimidated by you, the two had said that they wanted you around more often, just hanging out with them, so that they wouldn’t get bothered as much by people for unnecessary things.
Scary dog privileges, you remember they’d said, laughing as they did. It’s actually where you’d gotten your call sign, Cerberus.
It’s not that you hated it at all, in fact, you didn’t mind being a little scary if it meant people were less likely to bother you, it’s just that it makes it a hell of a lot harder to actually talk to people without them starting to stammer or shake.
It was one of the reasons you turned down being a commanding officer—you didn’t really like the thought of commanding a platoon of soldiers that cowered in your presence. Plus, it was getting really annoying, not being able to talk to another soldier that wasn’t Price, Soap, Ghost or Gaz without them looking like all they wanted to do was leave the conversation.
You finally make it back to your office and let out a sigh of relief as you open the door and walk in, closing it behind you, not even bothering to lock it as you immediately walk over to the chair behind your desk and sit down in it.
You reach below your desk and pull out a nice, fluffy blanket and a fluffy pillow to go with it that you always kept in your office—just for times like this, when you felt like going to sleep in your office, for whatever reason.
Were you supposed to be napping at all? No. Would your superiors let you anyway because you’ve somehow managed to get emotionally adopted by both Price and Soap? Absolutely.
You move some of the papers cluttering your desk out of the way and set down your pillow, as well as wrapping yourself in the blanket, and sigh happily as you lay your head down onto the pillow.
Just as you’re getting comfy, you hear a knock at the door. No. You don’t get up to answer it. You just sit there, head on your pillow, nice and comfy. In fact, you refuse to answer the door, because you’ve opened it for two other people already, and God knows who you’re gonna snap at once you open that door.
Another knock—you ignore that one too, knowing full well you told Soap to tell anyone who was looking for you that you were in your office but also knowing that you never said you’d open the door, you just said you’d be there.
You bury your face into the pillow and scream into it, knowing the scream wouldn’t be too muffled with how loud it was, but doing it anyway. You then take a deep breath and call out, unenthusiastic and tired, “Come in!”
You watch the door open and see Ghost step in, and you’re silent as you watch him close the door behind him and walk over to you, his century old shitty laptop in hand as he sits down in the chair in front of your desk and sets down said laptop.
You pay no mind to it, deciding you’d rather take a nap, and set your head back down on the pillow, pretending that you can’t feel Ghost’s eyes on you.
“… Are you okay?” He asks, sounding a little concerned as he looks at you bury your head into your pillow, before his concern turns into confusion as he asks, “When did you get a pillow in here— you have a blanket, too?”
“Mmph.” You don’t respond with actual words, even if you did they’d be muffled beyond relief by your pillow. You can’t see him but Ghost raises an eyebrow at you and his lips twitch into a small, amused smile.
“What, you’ve just had those in here?” Ghost asks, knowing he’ll get nothing more than a muffled hum from you.
“Mmph.”
“Alright, then,” He mutters, “Keep your secrets.”
“Mmph.” You feel too tired to bother responding with anything else.
“I feel like you shouldn’t sleep in your office, considering you have your own sleeping quarters you can sleep in.”
“… Mmph.”
“That’s fair,” Ghost nods. You hear him opening his laptop and you hear it crack when it opens, the noise making you huff out a small laugh into your pillow. God, that thing is so old, it’s ridiculous.
“What’s so funny?” Ghost asks as he types in his password. You don’t say anything in response, which doesn’t shock him in the slightest.
You feel yourself start to get closer to sleep, but can’t get quite there, instead sort of just hanging right on the edge of sleep.
You quietly grumble in frustration and shift a bit in your seat, not knowing what the issue is. Ghost notices this and raises an eyebrow at you, but doesn’t do anything about it just yet, instead getting back to his work. Why’d he have to go into your office to do his work? Who knows.
You shift again in your seat and Ghost knows that he’s not gonna be able to focus if you keep shifting—why wouldn’t he just go to his own office?—around, so he sighs and picks up his laptop and drags the chair in front of your desk with him around to behind your desk where you are.
You lift your head up to try and see what he’s doing, confused, and see him putting his chair right next to yours and setting his laptop down onto the desk.
Before you can ask anything, he gently puts a hand on the side of your head and guides it to rest on his shoulder, and—oh. This is much better, somehow.
He seems to know that it’s that much better, too, because his eyes crinkle a bit, giving away the fact that he’s smiling. However, he stays silent, and keeps his hand on the side of your head for a moment before letting it fall down to the side of your forearm, his thumb gently rubbing soothing circles into your skin.
He opens up his laptop once again and types in his password with one hand, the typing going by significantly slower than it would’ve if he used both hands, but he decides against keeping his hand off of you, seeing as it assists in helping you go to sleep.
Are you supposed to be asleep right now? Definitely not. But like mentioned before, Price wouldn’t mind. And you’d probably laugh if Soap minded, because even if he’s a Captain, he’ll always act like a little shit. Ghost knows this too, and with this information, he figures that he might as well help you sleep, since he knows exactly how to help you sleep.
One too many nights spent pacing in your room, which eventually woke Ghost up, which led to him helping you sleep, so that he could sleep too, You sleepily remember, He always said he was annoyed by the pacing, and that’s the only reason he helped you sleep. But now, seeing what’s happening now, makes you question that a bit. Was it his annoyance, or something else? Or am I thinking too much about this?
Cutting off your train of thought is another knock at the door, and it’s not loud enough to completely snap you out of your drowsy haze but it’s enough to make you a little more aware, and for you to readjust your head your head so that your face is practically buried in the crook of Ghost’s neck. His thumb stops rubbing against your forearm, and he glares at the door like it was the door’s fault it got knocked on.
The knocking persists and neither of you say anything, just waiting on whoever it is on the other side to give up and go away, but whoever it is must be feeling pretty determined because even louder knocks sound at the door, making you and Ghost sigh in unison.
You both continue to stay silent, hoping that whoever was on the other side just goes away, but they don’t. You don’t hear any footsteps retreating, and the knocks keep coming.
“Hello?” You both hear Price’s voice on the other side, “Cerberus? You in there?”
“Say no,” You mutter into Ghost’s neck. He nods and clears his throat.
“Nope!” Ghost calls out in response to Price’s question.
“… Ghost?” Price’s surprised voice comes through, “What are you doing in there?”
“Say this is your office,” You murmur, making Ghost huff out a small, amused laugh and nod again.
“This is my office,” Ghost responds, “Why wouldn’t I be here?”
“What? No,” Price’s voice becomes confused, “This is Cerberus’ office.”
“No it’s not,” Ghost denies, lying straight through his teeth. You laugh quietly against his neck.
“Uh… but it is?” Price argues, “It has their name on the front.”
“No it doesn’t,” Ghost blatantly denies, continuing his thumb’s slow circle movements on your skin, the soothing action making you hum contently. You don’t know how, but somehow your humming is loud enough for Price to hear. Does he have his ear against the door or something?
“I can hear Cerberus in there,” Price argues again, “Don’t lie to me.”
“Sorry, lamb,” Ghost apologizes to you softly, tone significantly more soft than it typically is, “I think he’s caught onto us.”
“… I guess it’s fine for him to come in, then,” You mumble against his neck. He responds with a nod.
“Come in!” Ghost calls out, and almost immediately you hear the door open and Price’s loud footsteps walking in. You can’t see him, but he opens his mouth to say something, when his eyes catch on your face buried in the crook of Ghost’s neck.
He looks questioningly at Ghost, the latter simply blinking over at Price, daring him to comment on it.
He doesn’t, and instead closes the door behind him and walks up to the desk.
“Cerberus?” He asks. You hum offhandedly, and he takes that as a sign to continue, “You okay?”
“Mhm.”
“You know you can sleep in your own sleeping quarters, right?”
“Mhm.”
“And you’re choosing not to?”
“Mhm.”
Price blinks at you for a moment before muttering, “Alright, then,” under his breath and turning to Ghost, “And you’re here because?”
“Felt like having some company,” Ghost answers simply, watching as Price glances at his thumb rubbing circles into your forearm, and continues to watch as his eyes slowly make their way up to the way your face is buried in the crook of his neck.
Price looks at Ghost, mouthing the words, ‘I’m telling everyone about this,’ to which Ghost mouths back, ‘Don’t you dare.’ Price grins at this and opens his mouth to say something else before there’s another knock at the door.
“Are you always this popular?” Ghost asks you, sounding both mildly annoyed and amused.
“Mhm.” You hum affirmatively.
Ghost sighs and he and Price call out in unison, “Come in!”
The door opens and you temporarily readjust your head so that you’re just resting your head on Ghost’s shoulder with your face facing the door, and you watch as Gaz enters the room and his neutral face turns into one of both surprise and confusion.
“Were you lot having a party in here, or something?” He asks, closing the door behind him.
“Not originally,” Ghost deadpans, watching as Gaz walks over next to Price and leans against your desk, “What’re you here for?”
“Needed an extra corrective action form,” Gaz answers. Ghost looks down at you for permission to rummage through your desk drawers and you nod.
“Second drawer to the right,” You mumble, and Ghost opens that exact one up and pulls out a CAA form, handing it over to Gaz, who takes it with a ‘thank you’ and folds it in half, stuffing it into his back pocket.
He looks between you and Ghost questioningly, and opens his mouth to say something, before Ghost gives him the same look he did to Price, and Gaz immediately snaps his mouth shut.
“If you’re tired, Cerberus, you should go to your sleeping quarters,” Price comments, tone worried. You look over at him.
“What if someone needs me, though?” You ask, slowly blinking at him.
“Kid, I don’t think anyone would get any good help from you with the state you’re in right now,” Price says honestly, ignoring the small glare you send him. “Anyone who needs you can just refer to someone else.”
You hum neutrally and sigh before muttering, “Fine,” and tentatively take your head off of Ghost’s shoulder and unwrapping the blankets you’d wrapped around yourself earlier, bundling it into a little ball and putting it into the box under your desk, putting the pillow in there as well.
You crack your knuckles quickly and get up from your seat, quickly putting your hands on the edge of your desk to steady yourself, standing up on slightly shaky legs.
“I can help you get over there,” Price offers, frowning a bit when you shake your head negatively. Ghost lets out a sigh and stands up, closing his laptop before quickly walking over to you and wrapping an arm loosely around your side, over your arm, pulling you closer to him and helping you stand up a bit straighter.
Gaz observes all of this with a raised eyebrow but otherwise says nothing, instead watching with Price—who watched this with disbelief in his eyes—as Ghost walked with you to the door wordlessly, opening the door and walking out of it with you, not looking back as he closes the door behind him.
“You think everyone’s gonna think Cerberus is all scary after they see them leaning on Ghost trying to get back to their sleeping quarters?” Gaz asks Price, staring at the closed door.
“Somehow, yeah,” Price says after a moment, still caught up in his disbelief, “That is… the strangest thing I’ve seen all day.”
“It’s only thirteen, Captain.”
“I don’t think anything’s gonna top that.”
“Top what?” Gaz asks, a little confused, “Seeing Ghost helping out Cerberus?”
“Yeah.”
Gaz huffs out a laugh and pats Price’s shoulder, “Jesus, man. I’m surprised that’s the first time you’ve seen that.”
Gaz ignores Price’s confused look and walks towards the door, opening and closing it as he walks out, leaving Price dumbfounded in Cerberus’ office.
“Huh?”
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