How Agents York, North, South, and Connecticut behave in committed relationships.
York: Bad jokes bad pick-up lines bad puns. His partner gets the worst of the worst at all hours of the day. No place, and no time is sacred. They’d be filthy rich if they got a penny for every time he ruined the moment. Has a latent possessiveness that doesn’t come into play very often, but still very much exists. Means well, but takes a lot of things at face value, and has misunderstood his partner’s actions and feelings plenty in the past. Otherwise, he’s very accepting, and very rarely judges (if ever). He’s the type to feel loved when spending quality time with you, and he rarely if ever turns down an opportunity to do just that. In fact, it doesn’t even matter what you do together-- just that it’s together.
North Dakota: Ridiculously lovey-dovey, ESPECIALLY in public. Doesn’t stop no matter how long you’ve been together, even decades down the line. Gives you all the attention you could possibly need, and then some. To say he’s a bit of a nag is an understatement. Worries like a momma bird, and will go into disapproving big brother mode whenever you’re doing something he deems unhealthy or dangerous. Likes picking you up and carrying you, and is strong enough to bench-press you no matter how big you are. He’s the one in the relationship who remembers all the important dates, including all your friends’ and relatives’ birthdays. Definitely remembers anything and everything that has to do with you: allergies, what you like and dislike, and that one offhand comment you made once about needing to get a new wallet soon. Overprotective, and gets jealous easily.
South Dakota: Also strong enough to bench-press you, and often does so. Again, doesn’t matter how big you are. If you thought her temper would decline--or even vanish--around a romantic partner, you’d be wrong. It’s still as explosive and unmanageable as ever, but if you’re visibly cowed by her yelling and hitting things, she starts being more conscientious of it-- and at the very least, puts physical distance between the two of you when she’s in one of her moods. As your relationship progresses and her feelings deepen, you become her rock. The person she trusts to hear her out and help her come back down. When she’s calm, she’s a total showoff with the biggest smirks and grins, and says the dirtiest things. Making you blush is one of her absolute favorite pastimes. Like North, she’s prone to jealousy, but even more so. Don’t tell her I said this, but she’s pretty clingy too...
Connie / CT: Connie is a complicated woman. She has many, many secrets, and you know barely a third of them. According to her, you’re safer that way. The secrecy can put a strain on your relationship, but she does her best to make up for it in other ways. She’s not only a great listener, but she's the person who gets angry on your behalf, and raises the standard for how people are allowed to treat you. If someone’s giving you trouble and she finds out about it... well, she deals with it, but once again you’re safer not knowing how. Just as it’s important to her that she have your back, it’s important she knows that you have hers, too. You’re the only person who’s still allowed to call her Connie. She makes you keep a single bag packed with essentials at all times just in case she needs to spirit you away in the middle of the night without explanation.
Can you do the ladies of PFL with an s/o that is just a civilian but is impossibly durable? Like if they got shot by a bullet it wouldn't go through them/barely would or if they got run over by a tank they'd get out mostly fine except for maybe a sprained or broken limb, not an absolutely crushed one. They could probably take a point blank explosion and walk away with only slight burns and minor pain from impact.
Tex actually really appreciates how durable her partner is. She's used them as a meat shield before in a pinch, but she doesn't like making a habit of it, and generally doesn't involve them in her business to begin with. She likes that she can wrestle and be rough with them and they can take it like a champ, even with her enhanced strength. She does get a little huffy that she can't leave bite marks and hickeys on them that easily, but she doesn't dwell on that. She gives them affectionate punches in the arm as often as kisses.
Carolina is honestly a little disturbed whenever she bears witness to her partner's freakish durability, but seeing them survive is still more of a relief than anything else. She feels guilty about it, but she's used them as a meat shield at least once. It's on instinct! Somewhere along the way, some wires got crossed, and she subconsciously put them in the mental basket Maine used to inhabit of being the bulwark at her back. The absolute last thing she ever wants to do is make them feel like she doesn't care about their well-being, though, and the shame makes her get defensive and try to hide. She always comes around in the end though, with apologetic kisses and some kind of present.
South ABSOLUTELY uses her partner as a meat shield-- but never in combat. She just goes out of her way to instigate things, so she can dive behind them with a cackle. She's like a kid with a toy that doubles as a stress ball. Whenever she's in a good mood she'll give them a few punches, whenever she's antsy she'll given them a few punches-- she'll gnaw on them, wrestle them, pick them up and toss them around like a beanbag. Maybe lay on her back and treat them like she's rolling a barrel with her feet whenever it's leg day. It gets pretty excessive, but she'll stop and pout if they get annoyed and tell her that's enough. They're her hyper-durable teddy bear, and she falls asleep squeezing them more often than she'd care to admit. Having them on hand relaxes her.
Connie is nonplussed. She's the only one of the PFL ladies who has never used her partner as a meat shield even once. It was a shock the first time she saw them survive something crazy, and she questioned them thoroughly--ex-SPARTAN? Another unethical UNSC project to try and win the war?--before she added the new information to her mental dossier, and continued on as if nothing happened (although that's not true at all. She's still to this day digging into their background and family history in her spare time trying to figure out where they got it from, to find out if there are any unpleasant side-effects to watch out for down the line). She's relieved they survive what they do, but plans meticulously to keep them out of harms way all the same. The fact that they're a civilian is never forgotten.
479er goes from a verbal "what the fuck?" the first time she witnesses her partner survive an explosion, to thinking it's the absolute funniest shit ever. Whenever company's around and she's had a few beers, she wants her partner to do stunts to show it off. She cackles at all the shocked expressions. Otherwise, it doesn't really come up, beyond her insisting they be the one to climb ladders, and stick their hand down the garbage disposal to fish stuff out whenever she's home. She hasn't needed to use them as a meat shield before, but absolutely would without a second thought, if it ever came up. Don't look at her like that! Some of us are ordinary, non-bulletproof humans, okay?
Howdy! So, I was thinking,, hear me out, lmao; Felix taking care of a drunk reader.
Felix thinks you’re hilarious, first off. He eggs you on too. Every time you say something, he goes “oh yeah?” and waits to see what you follow up with. He keeps his arm around you the whole night. Kissing your cheek, and chuckling whenever you get flustered. You don’t have to worry while he’s around, he keeps an eye on you and makes sure nobody tries anything funny. He buys your drinks too. By the end of it, he gets you to down at least one glass of water, and takes you home for cuddles. He made out with you a little bit at first, but huffed and backed off as soon as he realized just how drunk you were. He gives you his favorite hangover remedy in the morning.
Felix: Likes to show off. His way of showing off usually ends up being both violent, and some shade of distressing: like jumping out of moving vehicles, or blowing up natural gas deposits without warning you ahead of time (it doesn’t usually occur to him that it might freak you out-- he’s just so excited to show you). Gives lots of presents he stole/picked off of dead bodies. Also gives lots of expensive presents that weren’t stolen, and likes to show you off and talk you up to anyone and everyone to make them green with envy. The only person he ever actually gets jealous of you being around is Locus, although he hides it semi-well (and it’s difficult sometimes to tell who he’s jealous of). Says tons of shitty things to you in private that he doesn’t actually mean, and causes tons of fights. Basically 90% of the time, the fight/argument is his fault. Doesn’t know how to not throw more fuel on the fire, and there’s no way to really know for sure if it’s on accident, or on purpose to get a reaction-- but either way, he tries to apologize after the fact (more often with gifts than words, or actions. “Everyone has a price”). There’s usually a crisis with him, and when there’s no one around but the two of you, its usually him freaking himself out over actually caring about you-- and then him trying to convince you both that he doesn’t, really. It takes literal years for him to get over this on his own. He is basically a total headache and a mess, 24/7. Otherwise: it’s the two of you (and Locus), thick as thieves, vs the world-- and NO ONE gets away with messing with you.
Locus: Starting out, he near constantly disapproves of the things you do. It takes him a while, but he eventually fully realizes that you’re his romantic partner, and not beholden to him-- aka, not his subordinate, or a certain unruly business partner. He recognized your strengths and weaknesses early on (whether or not you yourself were aware of them), told you about them almost immediately, and plans around them whenever he can. He doesn’t rationally see a point in forcing you to do something you can’t do easily, when playing to your strengths is less time consuming, and leads to better results. He will give you opportunities to overcome your weaknesses if you want them, but otherwise, he feels that is very much your business. He is a very private person, and NOT okay with PDA. Refuses to share any personal details about the two of you with anyone (except Felix). Denies physical contact almost completely when around others, and gets annoyed with you any time you try to initiate anything beyond holding onto his arm. In private, very cuddly. He’s a romantic at heart, but very awkward when it comes to expressing it. Has two left feet when it comes to dancing, but tries anytime you ask him -- provided you two are alone -- and somehow knows all the steps. Gets jealous easily, but handles it fairly rationally-- aka, by telling himself how irrational and ridiculous it all is, and making a very unsuccessful attempt to ignore it. Wonderful at analyzing his partner and figuring out what they’re feeling, but usually has a hard time figuring out why. Has absolutely no idea how to even be in a relationship, and is super nervous around you most of the time. Types his hearts like this: ε>
Sharkface: In the beginning, there’s tension between you two that’s thick enough to cut with a knife. Basically anytime he sees you, he’s going to get a good bit closer than is strictly necessary for whatever the task at hand, and touch you whenever he doesn’t necessarily have to. Initially feels like he has to make some sort of claim, and looms around you looking intimidating whenever there are other people around (he calms down and gets more comfortable after a while. Still looms occasionally when he doesn’t like how someone’s looking at you, tho). Oh, he trusts you, he just doesn’t always trust other people with you. Never really stops flirting, even if you’ve been together for years. INCESSANT teasing, ESPECIALLY if you get embarrassed easily!! You’re so cute when you get flustered. Fairly rough around the edges, but he’s a genuinely cool guy who’s surprisingly laid back for someone who seems like he’d have a short temper. Humble, too, and everyone in your life either loves him or hates him. Most of them are wondering if you’re going through your badboy phase. He always enjoys watching you getting excited about things and trying your best. Always gets very excited and proud whenever you succeed at something! Goes out of his way to be easy for you to talk to, and always tries to approach anything you tell him with an open mind (admittedly, he has some hangups and prejudices he can’t quite get past). There are several things about himself he’d rather mention once, and then never again.
Idk if requests are open, but if they are do the ladies of PFL act any different while their S/O is out on mission? Can be during or after PFL if it makes any difference.
Yeah, requests are open!
Alright, so the ladies are all professionals, and they know the drill. They’ve been doing this for a very long time and aren’t overly concerned. None of them are the type to really worry while their s/o is away. There’s always the chance someone won’t come back, but they try not to dwell on that fact. It can also depend on how capable their s/o is (or at least, how capable they think their s/o is).
Tex treats you like you can handle yourself, even when you prove you can’t. The words she gives you are always unconcerned, but confident. “What, those scrubs? You can take ‘em.” Deep down… she worries. Often times, she’s ended up working in the shadows on the same mission pursuing her own secret objective, and she’ll find herself checking in on you… making sure you’re not in over your head. Always ready to come charging in and pull you out of the fire if things are looking dire.
Carolina has faith in your abilities. She only ever gets concerned when you end up in the medbay, and even then, she doesn’t doubt you (unless it’s your own damn fault you’re there. Then you get an earful). The majority of her concern for your safety actually comes out in training. She pushes you. Needs to make sure you’re at the top of your game and can handle anything that comes at you!! That’s why, if you were to die on the field… she’d blame herself first before anyone else.
South aggressively tries not to think about the fact you might not come back, but she still makes jokes before you leave to not get shot up too much. When you do get shot? She’s scared and angry, and will often try and start arguments with you to cover up the fear. She always inevitably falls asleep in the medbay. When the mission lasts longer than expected, she loses her appetite, paces, and has an even shorter temper than usual.
Connie worries more and more as time goes on, and she starts to see the project’s true colors. She’s afraid they’ll start to intentionally send you on missions you can’t handle… or get rid of you the moment you’re no longer useful, like the MIA triplets (she still doesn’t know what happened to them). There’s always a thought in the back of her mind when she sees you off: will this be the one? She tries not to show a lot of concern in public, but the second you’re both alone behind closed doors… hug time.
479er usually has faith, but still sometimes drums her hands on her pelican’s dashboard while she’s waiting for that evac request. Every time she’s told there’s wounded, she grits her teeth, and tries not to wonder who it is. It’s always a fight to resist the urge to glance back over her should and see if you’ve made it into the hold before she takes off. Every day, she curses herself for being dumb enough to take up with a freelancer.
If it’s not too much trouble, may I have a headcanon for C.T that hasn’t seen her s/o for a long time. Then to find them as a sim trooper during her training?
Connie’s shocked into silence when she finds you. It’s been years, and here you are: right under her nose. Not only that, but you’re a sim trooper. When the shock dissipates, it leaves cold dread in its place. She thought you were safe and sound back home this entire time. She has to get you out! Sim troopers aren’t treated like people, and the death rate…
Earlier on in her PFL career, when she still thinks they’re honest, she pulls strings to get you moved onto the MoI as staff. There, at least, she can keep an eye on you and you won’t be used for PFL’s sadistic training experiments. Once she realizes PFL’s up to no good… she knows with a cold certainty that she has to smuggle you out at any cost. She gets you out first, promising to join you soon…
You’ve come down with some kind of illness, and Doc’s here to nurse you back to health. Spoiler alert: You survive.
The whole thing took you completely by surprise.
Yesterday you felt perfectly fine. You had “patrol,” made Caboose PB&J for lunch, took part in a small firefight with the Reds. At the closest approximation of 3AM on a planet that experienced eternal daylight, you and Tucker sipped expired fruit juice on the battlements together in the hopes of somehow getting drunk, and had another round of bullshit!philosophy hour while Church and Caboose took their turn sleeping. He made up something at one point that sounded vaguely nihilistic, to try and convince you to make out with him. You laughed harder at him than you had at anything in years.
The next morning though, you felt like absolute shit.
“I called your boyfriend,” Church said pitilessly. He was leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.
“No!” You groaned. You were sitting up in your cot, dazed and bleary-eyed, with blankets pooled around your lap. Not too dazed however to forget that getting Doc involved could possibly kill you. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, here's the thing: I know he's utterly useless and infuriating, but I also know I'm sure as hell not nursing you back to health.”
“Yeah, fffffuuuuck that!” Tucker loudly agreed from the other room. The fickle, traitorous bastard.
“You don't even have to take care of me, though!” You pleaded. “I'm, I'm not even that bad! You can just... just have Caboose bring me a glass of water every hour, or something! I'll get plenty of rest, and I'll be all better in no time! No nursing necessary.”
Church forced out a brisk, humorless “ha.” Then, “Yeah no. Don't think so.”
You glowered at him, and flopped back down onto your cot with a huff. Instantly, your head swam from the quick movement, and you groaned pitifully.
“He should be here soon.”
You groaned again—louder this time—and rolled over to face away from Church and the doorway he stood in.
After a minute, you heard him step away from the doorway and leave. You kept your eyes trained on the featureless wall across from you as a muffled conversation started up in a nearby room.
You were too busy frowning, that you didn't notice yourself nod off.
You came to with a start. Strangely cold, and with no concept of time.
You'd managed to kick the blanket off of your cot while you were asleep. You tried to sit up and reclaim it, but a fit of dizziness forced you back onto your pillow.
Your head was fuzzy—like it was stuffed full of cotton. Thinking felt like slogging through water.
You rolled onto your stomach and tucked your arms under your body in the hopes that would warm you up some. After a few minutes, you drifted off again.
Your brain slowly swam back into consciousness along with the room around you. It was fuzzy at the edges, and it took you several seconds of confusion to recognize it as your own. The world felt strange—you felt strange. For a minute, you thought you could see a figure milling about in the doorway.
“Keep your distance, Caboose.”
You heard Church's stern voice coming from the other room. It sounded muffled and warped, like you were hearing it from underwater.
“You hear me? One sick idiot's enough. I don't wanna have to deal with two.”
You missed Caboose's response as you sank back into a warm, murky sleep.
At some point during that third nap, you had a fever dream. Over a dozen tiny, purple Churches climbed in through your window (even though your room had no windows, and was also underground). They cackled maniacally in concert, lifted you out of your bed, and attempted to carry you out the window. You tried to fight them, but you felt too weak and could hardly move.
When you woke up, Doc was picking your blanket up off the floor.
“... Frank?”
“Hi, sweetie.” Doc sounded distracted. He shook your blanket out, then carefully draped it over you.
“I had the weirdest dream just now...” You muttered dazedly.
“Really?” Doc answered pleasantly while tucking you in. Going slowly, so he didn't leave even the smallest part of you uncovered. “What about?” When he was finished, he patted your knee gently. You vaguely noticed he wasn't wearing his gauntlets right now.
You squinted at the ceiling, blinked, and tried to recall your dream. The more you focused on it, however, the quicker it seemed to escape you-- like sand slipping through your fingers. “I don't... remember.”
“That's fine. If you remember any of it later, I'd love to hear it.”
Without further preamble, Doc began scanning you.
Your eyes lazily followed the green glow as he passed it from your toes up to your head. When he made a thoughtful noise, your eyes flicked back to his helmet in curiosity.
“Hm... looks like your temperature's at 105.”
“What?!” Your presence of mind returned in a landslide. You shot up, and instantly regretted it as you were hit by a wave of pain and dizziness. Spots danced in your vision as you slumped back onto your pillow. You felt like you were going to throw up.
“... Or that could be your blood pressure...”
“Oh my god.” You whimpered. Your boyfriend was going to kill you.
Not seeming to hear you, Doc made another thoughtful noise. “Ah-- you know what, 105 isn't bad for either of them. I'm sure it's fine.” He laughed good-naturedly, setting his scanner aside to start tucking the edges of the newly disturbed blanket back under you.
You almost wanted to cry; but you were too tired, too feverish, and felt too done with life to bother. Instead, you let your body go limp, and stared blankly at the ceiling.
“Based on Church's description, you weren't this bad earlier...” Doc said thoughtfully.
After a moment, you made a soft, non-committal noise that sounded like agreement.
“Have you been staying hydrated?”
You slowly turned your head to look at him, and blinked.
“I'll take that as a 'no'.” Doc picked up his gauntlets from your bedside table. “Be back in a jiffy!”
You returned your gaze to the ceiling as he left the room. This was a terrible idea. Calling your boyfriend was a terrible idea. You loved him, but he was going to try to solve the problem by rubbing aloe vera on your neck, or sticking your feet in a bucket of... of... quinoa, and then your ridiculously high fever was going to kill you.
Distantly, you hoped that your funeral wouldn't be shit. You were there for Church's funeral, and Tex's funeral, and those funerals were shit-- and actually, come to think of it; didn't you, Tucker and Caboose leave Church's body to rot up on the cliffs originally? You hoped Church didn't remember that-- or didn't hold a grudge, at the very least.
Distantly; you realized you were screwed.
Doc returned while you were in the middle of a fever-fueled existential crisis.
“Alright-- I'm going to need you to sit up, if you can. I'll help.”
When his words registered, you propped yourself up on your elbows partway. He slipped one power-armored arm through the newly freed space, and delicately hoisted you up into a sitting position.
Your head swam at your new vantage. You felt something cold and metallic press against your lips, and realized Doc was holding a canteen up for you to drink from.
Gratefully, you parted your lips, and cool water poured in between them. It splashed down your sore throat, and soothed some of the swelling.
Doc waited for you to drink your fill. He closed the canteen and set it aside. “Feeling any better?”
You weakly raised one arm, and gave him a thumbs up. “Mmf.” You let your head loll onto his shoulder.
“Wonderful,” Doc said warmly. “Staying hydrated is always important, but the absolute best cure for an illness--” He trailed off as he wrapped both arms around you, and hugged you gently to his chest. “Is a hug.”
You frowned up at his visor in confusion. Wasn't he going to catch what you have?
Even under your scrutiny, Doc continued to hold you. He shucked the gauntlet off of one hand and petted his bare palm soothingly over the crown of your head.
Despite the relative uselessness of the gesture, Doc's power armor and dry palm both felt comfortably cool against your feverish skin. The petting as well felt surprisingly good, and your eyelids drooped closed more and more with each stroke of his hand. “Mmmmmm...” You hummed in pleasure.
Doc chuckled at that. “See? You feel better already.” He smoothed the sweat-damp hair off of your forehead, and kissed your brow. “I'm sorry your team doesn't have very good bedside manners. Now that I'm here, we'll have you back to normal in no time.”
Doc's calm, even tone comforted you. But there was still something bothering you. “... Won't you... get sick, too?” You muttered.
“Hm?...” Doc paused as what you said registered. Then a moment later, his hand continued its gentle petting. “Oh, there's no need to worry. Now that the symptoms are showing, you shouldn't be contagious anymore. Assuming, of course, you even were to begin with.”
You hummed in dazed thoughtfulness. Was that actually true? It was always hard to tell with him.
Doc pressed another kiss to your brow, then rested his cheek against the crown of your head. He rocked you gently. “... You should come with me this time, when I leave... it feels like I only ever get to spend time with you when you get hurt, and that happens way too much for my comfort.”
“... My team...” You muttered.
“They're not very nice. They don't take care of you at all. They just left you in here with no food or water all day and all night.”
You hummed softly.
“And there's no way they'll let me stay for too long... think it over, ok? If you ever want to be around someone who actually watches out for you. The offer's always open.”
You didn't want to think about it right now. But the thought of getting to be held like this all the time was appealing. The rocking, actually, was putting you into this weird hyper-calm state where your thoughts flowed by as a distant stream.
“... We could have a vegetable garden...” Doc began softly, after a little while. “Grow all kinds of things... maybe Donut would want to stay with us, too. He grew up on a farm. He'll know how to grow any kind of plant we want. That'd be nice, wouldn't it? Just the three of us?”
Doc's voice was so calming. You felt yourself drifting off as if he were reading you a bedtime story.
“Grow our own food, so we don't have to rely on rations and junk food from the city all the time. Give you all sorts of healthy things to eat...”
Doc's voice was steadily growing farther away.
“Keep you from getting sick... from getting hurt... won't be people arguing and yelling around you all the time...”
After a while, you couldn't tell what he was saying anymore. His voice devolved into a soft, pleasant, wordless murmur as sleep swallowed you up into heavy thoughtless oblivion.
