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loveandleases · 2 days ago

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Hi hi~ It's my birthday and I'm running on fumes. So- How would the Ro's celebrate MC's birthday with them if the MC doesn't mind doing whatever/doesn't plan to do anything special? I'm desperate for Ardent... WHO SAID THAT??

Happy Birthday!!!! 🎂🎈🎉 I hope you've had a good one. I'm going to throw it under a cut because it somehow ended up being almost 2k words! Ardent is just as desperate, he's just in denial!

❤️ Cam - First off, would MC mind getting a piercing? Cam would be thrilled to get matching ear piercings with them. But if that’s not their thing, he’d suggest something more subtle, like matching jewelry. Maybe one of those permanent bracelets that are soldered on—a small but meaningful reminder of their bond.

Cam is up for anything, truly. If MC wants to stay in and have a cozy night watching movies, he’s already pulling up his favorite food apps and ordering takeout from three different places. But if MC feels adventurous, he’s all in. One of those indoor trampoline parks? Perfect—just give him a second to grab some Dramamine first. Whatever the plan, he’s ready to make the day unforgettable.

And at the end of the night, Cam has one last surprise: a scrapbook. “Old school, I know,” he says with a sheepish grin as he hands it over.

The pages are filled with his favorite memories. Photos from his point of view, capturing the little moments that mattered most to him over the years. There’s a whole section dedicated to the doggo (because, of course), and even a page or two with G, reflecting the years of shared friendship. And yes, there are even photos of MC with Chris—but Chris has been carefully, and a little dramatically, cut out of every one.

Cam shrugs, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he fidgets with the edge of one of the photos. “I couldn’t just throw them out,” he murmurs, running his fingers along the edges of the picture. His voice softens as he glances at MC, the corners of his mouth lifting in a lopsided smile. “You looked too good.”

💙 G - They never truly enjoyed their birthday, especially since it’s on Valentine’s Day. But MC changed that for them. Even when they weren’t together, MC still made sure to bake G a cake, showing how much they cared and G wants to do the same.

This year, G had been planning it for a while. They wanted everything to be just right—a nice dinner out on the town, the kind of place that serves those tiny, fancy portions. But when they hear MC’s stomach growling later that night, G would laugh and take them back to the kitchen to whip up a big, hearty meal, just the way they like it.

Afterward, they’d take MC on a walk, retracing steps to places they’d always wanted to show them back when they weren’t speaking. They would begin reminiscing about those late-night strolls they used to share in school.

G would have two gifts for MC. The first is something they’ve kept all this time (spoiler, i can't say what it is since you will be able to receive this item and place it in your MC's room). The second is a sweater. Not to replace the one they absolutely stole, by the way—no, of course not. This one is different. It’s a sweater G has worn over the years, one they’ve thought about MC wearing, imagining them wrapped up in its warmth.

And to end the night, G would surprise MC with a homemade cake, the icing meticulously decorated with the image of their dog. It’s not perfect, a tad lopsided, the color a little off.

💚 Kara - Oh, MC is getting spoiled. If they’re down for pampering, then Kara is going all out. First up, the best massage money can buy—only the best for MC. Kara will even attempt to bake them cookies… and we all know how that is going to go. When that inevitably doesn’t pan out, she’ll pivot to taking MC out for dinner. Fine dining, of course. Is a seven-course meal too much? Probably. Should she have asked beforehand? Definitely.

Kara doesn’t have the shared history with MC that Cam and G do, and she knows it. So, in a rare moment of thoughtfulness, she’ll invite Em along, intent on building a better relationship with MC and making the night truly special.

To top it off, Kara would rent a luxurious hotel for the night. Yes, MC can eat the snacks in the minibar—she’s paying. She’d try to whisk MC out of the country for a weekend getaway, but when their schedule doesn’t allow it, she’ll opt for the next best thing: a staycation. A weekend of indulgence, relaxation, and Kara-style bonding.

Her real gift, though, is far more personal: a key to her place, accompanied by a bouquet of flowers. The same flowers she once gave MC years ago—though back then, Chris had claimed the credit. This time, Kara makes sure there’s no doubt where they came from.

💛 M - One thing about Mar: they really like to have a plan. Whether it’s outlining their novel or taking MC out on a date, having a plan helps them prepare for what’s to come. So, if you happen to look through M’s search history, don’t be surprised if you come across things like:

"How to give your partner the best birthday"

"How much tongue is too much tongue? Techniques for French kissing"

And last but certainly not least, “What exactly is Netflix and chill?” (Had to include that, especially with a planned snippet!)

The first thing M can think to do is take MC somewhere special. Not to an anime convention (though they already bought tickets and even wanted to plan couple costumes—they had to talk themselves down from that). Instead, M decides on a place they don’t get to visit often, a place they love: home. And not their apartment, but their childhood home, the house their mothers still own.

M doesn’t get much time away from work or book tours, so this will be one of the few opportunities they can actually take MC. Since MC is up for anything, it doesn’t dawn on M until later that they’re essentially taking MC to meet the parents. Truthfully, M is more nervous than MC. At home, though, M is much more confident—they know what they’re doing and where to go. It’s one of the few times M feels completely sure of themselves. The trip is a success. M had already told their mothers about MC so of course they end up adoring MC even more.

As for a gift, M isn’t sure what to give. They hope that their presence—their trust, adoration, and love—will be enough. But just in case, M has a backup. They pull out their finished novel, ready for store shelves. Normally, M keeps the first published copy for themselves, but this time, they don’t. They want MC to see the first page after opening the cover—a heartfelt dedication, to none other than MC.

💜 Isaac - Isaac has never gotten this far with a partner since their ex. They’ve never allowed themselves to care for someone that deeply, not until MC. So when Isaac finally allows themselves to openly care for MC, they want to make it count. They want to do for MC what their mother used to do for them, even going so far as to bake their mother’s cake recipe. Listen, Isaac can cook—baking, though, is a little iffy. So it won’t be perfect, but it will be made from the heart. Just like the day Isaac has planned: something as simple as running errands, spending time together, sharing quiet moments. It’s something Isaac, admittedly, took for granted early on in their relationship.

Now, they don’t hold back as much. Isaac openly tells MC how they feel, how much they care for them, and shows it as well. The list of people who care about Isaac is minuscule, and they don’t take that for granted. They’re open to any thoughts MC has for the day, any question about Isaac’s past, or their job that they’d kept hidden for so long. Isaac’s willing to share even the details about their parents.

The gift is simple. No, it’s not free reign over Isaac’s car—nice try. It’s a plant, a cat-safe flower because Isaac knows Cupid likes to visit. They’ve taken care of it for a while, making sure it’ll survive before giving it to MC. But the flower itself isn’t what’s important. What matters is the sentiment behind it—the idea of nurturing something so it can grow.

It’s a promise from Isaac, a vow that they won’t stop working on themselves, that they won’t stop fighting for their relationship with MC. It’s the promise of being honest, with MC, with themselves, and accepting just how much they care for one another.

🖤 Ardent - MC would wake up gently, kissed softly on the lips, greeted with breakfast in bed. He’d actually been prepping it since the day before, and when Ardent cooks, he really goes all out. He doesn’t mess around. That means MC’s day isn’t just about breakfast—it’s also lunch, dinner, and his special baklava. There are so many ways the day can go, especially if his uncle tries to rope him into helping close the bar (he won’t, because today is all about MC).

Though MC insists they don’t care what they do for the day, Ardent can’t accept that. He wants nothing more than to make it special for them. Ardent’s life has changed so much since MC came into it. They’ve helped him understand just how important it is to open up, to stop keeping people at arm’s length. He would be lost without them, and he wants to show his appreciation for all they’ve done for him.

He never expected his mom to fly in when he told her it was MC’s birthday, nor did he plan for his cousins or his uncle to join in. He wasn’t surprised when his niece showed up with a handmade gift, though she lied and claimed Ardent got it for MC, afraid that he’d forgotten. He could never forget.

MC gets a big party, and while he knows it might not be their ideal, he apologizes later in the day. There’s one thing Ardent has always wanted to do with MC, ever since that day they rushed Cupid to the emergency vet. He’s a bit sentimental, sure. But he can’t help it, especially when he ties a little note to Cupid’s collar for MC to find late at night, when she curls up next to them.

Who would’ve imagined that Ardent Pine writes love notes? Even worse, he doodles hearts. Yeah, he won’t live that down, but it’s something he’s come to accept. And he’s hoping his gift will be something MC can accept, too. An invitation to become a bigger part of his life and of Cupid’s. The note includes a crude drawing of a cat and a message:

As much as I love Cupid, I never could’ve imagined you’d love her too. That you’d care for her when I was such an as- (the swear is scribbled out) jerk. I never could’ve imagined you’d worm your way into my heart—and hers. So, whaddya say, trouble? Will you have us?

Ardent takes a deep breath, his face looking calm as ever. But MC notices the slight twitch of his fingers in his pockets—something he does when he’s nervous. His eyes meet theirs for a moment, and then he simply says, “Move in with me.”

#love and leases #loveandleases #cam #ardent #g #m #kara #isaac

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wonziz · 2 days ago

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I always loved everything about you

pairings : niki x female reader

Genre: enemies to lovers, angst (?), a little bit of fluff

warnings : childhood trauma, overworking, anxiety, skinship, kissing (lmk if i missed anything!)

- NOT PROOFREAD-

this is for my girlies out there who are struggling with the same thing. Always remember, thing will get easier. Dont always preassure yourseld okay? You can do it!! Im counting on yahhh<3💕 this might be sensitive to something people so if you are not comfortable in reading it, you can always skip, take care💗

𝐿ibary…🖇️

~Currently playing: i bet on losing dogs by mitski~

You have always hated niki to the core. And he hated you too… so as you thought.

- more after cut! -

It was a week after the finals, which means, its the week you got your results back. You were nervous and scared, you always had a fear of failure trying to make everything perfect, trying to always impress your parents. You always overeducated yourself from a young age, pushing yourself more and more. You never did it for yourself but always the people around you.

It was biology, one of your strongest yet weakest subjects. It was your favourite subject but sometimes, you didn’t score as well as you wanted too. You sat in your chair anxiously, waiting for your name to be called out. you watched as your classmates faces filled with joy as they saw thier result slip.

you were called by your teacher, you walked up towards her and took you’re exam paper.

you walked back to your seat, looking at the slip in your shaky hands. An 82 again. You knew you could do better. You knew you could at least have scored a 90 or more. you stared at the piece of paper, regret filling you up. As you thought the feeling couldn’t get worser, your enemy walked up to you smirking, “what did you get huh? Why is it bad? Wow thats a firs-“

You stood up cutting niki off, walking out of the classroom. Niki looked at you shocked, following you from behind.

You knew he was following you but you were angry to even care. You walked out of the school building to a secluded area behind the school. You squat down crying, crumpling the paper in your hand.

Niki stopped in his tracks when he saw you crying not knowing what to do. He walked towards you slowly squatting beside you. “Whats wrong…? Im sure you got a good grade right? Can… i have a look?” He asked gently, putting his hand over yours, taking the crumpled piece of paper out if your hand.

He stared at it in shock, you got an 82. Thats good, really good. He looked at you confused, why were you upset with this marks. Niki puts an arm around your shoulder but you pushed it away, “go away niki. Stop trying to care when you dont. You hate me”

Niki looked at you with in disbelief, him hating you? He had always had a crush on you, but he always pushed thoses feelings away. He cared for you, but was too much of a loser to admit it. He didn’t know you thought of him like that. “Me..? Hating you…? Since when? Y/n, i have always liked you. Since ages. Grades does not prove your worth… its who you are. Your world doesn’t revolve some stupid numbers and studies all the time, its about knowing that you did our best. yes we need to study and get good grades but we need to live a little from time to time. Take breaks and rest.”

you halted up to look at him before crying again. Niki’s heart cracked seeing you so vulnerable and upset. Almost immediately niki hugs you “sshh… its fine, im here… let it all out.”

He stayed by your side, patting your back. You asked, “why do you even like me? Im not a good person, im not even pretty”

“I like every about you y/n. And i mean every single thing. Your laugh, your eyes, your smile, your voice, your determination. You are gorgeous. You really are, Its so okay to fail and make mistakes… we just need to learn from it.”

You look up again, with a small smile in your face. “Thank you niki… i-“ you got cut off when niki cupped your face in his plams then placings his lips onto yours.

“shhh… no need to say thank you..i promise to always be by your side. Always.” he mumbled againts your lips.

the kiss was filled with care and love, and that was all you needed to know

Nanas love note💕 : heyyy<33 Anyways this is probably my saddest work ever. I decided to write this as to express my own feelings, and to those out there who are struggling with the same thing, dont worry, you are not alone. I hope you like it<3 remember you are not alone and if you need someone to talk too… you can always slide in my dms<3 i promise it will be a safe place for you to vent or express your feeling okay? I love you guys sooo much💞

Taglist: @sugarikiz @icyy-hoon @jaysng @amorek1m

@jakesangel @mrjypark @won-k1ss @nxzz-skz

@yuvany @jiiyen (send ask or comment to be added🤍)

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mawlbone · 3 days ago

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MARKED MINES - NIKTO

SNIPPET: The lingering sensation of pain is more than enough proof that you’re human enough to still feel the sharp sting of pain when you feel there’s no one there to hold you in all your numbness.

[CW: gender neutral reader, dom reader, mean reader, kidnapper reader, manipulative reader, insecure nikto, soft sex, dehumanization, stockholm syndrome, dubcon, unhealthy codependent relationship, mention of sh scars and brief vivid description of previous sexual assault and torture (not from nikto and reader), vomit, water boarding, knifeplay, masochist nikto, mild bloodplay, self depreciating thoughts, scarring, degradation, marking, touch-starved nikto, forced proximity, dry-humping, and lots of cuddling and a Kreuger appearance.]

[COMMENT: If you are sensitive to the topics listed above, I recommend you to read my other fics because yes, the warnings are heavy in this one. What is a happy ending is subjective to the reader’s opinion.]

Time touches all that is living. It’s the simplest fact that all men know.

It’s ever so present with the way the young burst into towering adults, the way they mature with fine lines growing onto one’s face, and the greying hair that sparkle onto one’s head once they turn back into little old creatures. But for all what time can touch, it cannot heal all wounds as much as the people like to preach it from their mighty ground that everything will eventually be alright.

Does it truly?

For what the brain cannot remember, the body pays in tenfold.

So it’ll desire a release. A means to end an illness all stuck in your head as a desperate measure to prove it’s all real and still there. Why else would one’s body constantly clutch over in pain trying to piece the fragments of an once clear image? All that stress, all that anger, and all those tears makes a terrible sight for everyone. It’s shameful. It’s not like one can control these emotions, much to the disappointment of the world.

Time comes and goes, and it’ll forever leaves everyone behind in its mess. For time does not heal all wounds. All it does is make you forget in the obscurity of itself.

Maybe that’s why Nikto is so desperate to be around people. People are permanent. People are alive. But why does he always feel so lonely in the company of others, even when he tries to escape it by fleeing to the emptiness of other rooms. Maybe it’s himself that he cannot stand to be around, he thinks as he collapses into the bushes, hissing as he clutched his stomach feeling the bullet inside his flesh. A failed mission, he was left behind. His fault for not paying attention.

It’s fine.

He’ll just make his way back again once he recover, he thinks, just barely dragging his body, following the lights in the woods to a little house hidden amongst the grasping branches of the forests.

Hopefully a good samaritan is nice enough to house him for a little while.

—

You always wanted a pet.

For all your assortment of critters you had over the years, despite all the love and care you can put into ensuring they get the best meals and enrichment. All of them had inevitably die to the hands of the clock and left in heartache.

Your family suggested that you find something else to accompany you instead, tired of you griefing over every animal you ever had. Young and old, big or small, fur or scales.

Animals are not meant for a human lifespan, no matter how long humans tried to domesticate them. So people were naturally your next choice, but a lifelong companion never last long anyways as much as you like to try again and again. Many failed dates, whether through online dating apps or setups from your friends all ultimately failed. None of them were half as loving or loyal as any ol’ hound you had before.

Hell, if anything they were worse.

So when a thump was heard at your door, you can only hold in a squeal seeing a collapsed man at your door. All big and brawny, a perfect pet. How perfect, you thought as you pulled your back to drag the man inside your home and down into your basement.

You don’t receive much visitors nowadays, simply hunting and fishing around the area to occupy yourself. Isolating yourself to the ends of the woods was what you prefer to the bustle of the city life. So nobody should mind if you keep another pet, right?

You got a big enough kennel for him down there, he’ll be all healthy again once you get that bullet sorted out.

—

Like all strays, Maybe you should had expected your new dog to be so reactive once he woke up bounded to your bed, cussing and all as he tugged against the chains holding his ankles back from grasping the bars of his cage. It was fairly spacious, if anything, more than what you’ll usually give, but the whole basement was designed to keep some guy’s exotic pet collection once before, so you suppose this dog of yours still perfectly suits the room’s purpose.

But damn was he a bitch to handle, biting your fingers every time you tried to feed him, barking at you whenever you tried to bond with him and even threating to kill you, calling you disgusting and pervert for keeping him down here. Seething anytime you come down to check on him and saying his men will come find him and torture you for what you done to him.

How mean.

That didn’t stop him from crying though when you held him down to clean him up, too weak to fight back from constantly spitting out your food as he shivered at the cold water wiping away the mess. There’s no bathroom in the basement after all, only a bucket to relieve himself in.

As much as, what your dog, Nikto, which he liked to calls himself, likes to bark at you. You learned he was terribly easy to break, absolutely despising being alone as you watched him from your cameras down below.

The constant whines, the pleading, the lack of time down there made it all too easy within the darkness of the room. You’ll watch him hold himself tight as his arm cling tight around his head or chest to protect himself crying and screaming, demanding you to come down. If you’re lucky enough, you’ll find him whimpering quietly trying to relieve himself to ease his stress.

At first, he’ll turn his back to the camera trying to get off as he whines into the room unable to get his fix. But no longer he cares anymore once you dropped several of your old pillows and blankets to comfort him and watching him snuggle against them, a pillow settled underneath his hips to rut against as he presses into nose to your things.

What a freak, you thought as he watched him sigh and mewl so prettily, even taking a hand back to thrust back into his own fingers. Biting into the blankets to muffle his screams when he finally got his release.

But you’re impatient. You want a companion still.

His reactions were fun for you to bully him with every time you came down to tease him. You made it a routine to drop many of his meals off and leaving for multiple days on end to fuck with his concept of time. Seconds turn into hours, and days turn into months as you lied about what day is it everytime you come down. But eventually it got tiring, you gotbored with the same response over and over again anytime you try to be nice to Nikto.

Perhaps it’s true that you’re not fated for a lifelong companion, maybe this dog is not meant to be yours. So you gave up on him.

Your final test was when you left the cell and basement door ajar, no word directed at Nikto as he whined at you to let him go still. His voice softer, weaker now with the lack of water you give him after splashing his glass onto you. If he doesn’t want to stay here, fine. You won’t keep such an ungrateful thing here anymore if he keeps fighting back at you. You had a work trip to go to anyways back at the city.

He could be freed and gone from your house for all you could care once when you arrived back.

Though the last thing you could had expected was the sight of him sitting on your porch, just like the day you find him, dazed as you pulled into the driveway. Naked with nothing more his briefs and blanket strapped over his shoulders as he stared at you blankly, whining at you once more to ask why you left him as fat tears fall down his face.

You watch his struggle to stand up, wobbling as his hands reach outward trying to grasp you and apologizing for behaving so badly to you.

Oh… He thinks you’re a hallucination, you thought as he cutely stumbles over to you, sniffing in his sobs as he loudly cries your name. Looks like he’s could still be good dog after all, you hummed to yourself as you walked forward to allow him to collapse against you, taking him back to your house once more.

Finally he is properly broken in and all yours.

—

For what little Nikto can remember, between the grasps of many nitrile blue hands clenching his face and the sting of scalpels pushing onto his skin as if he was a human pincushion, he cannot for the life of him remember the faces of the many men that held him in that icy metal chair those long nights once ago.

A blessing or a curse?

He is unsure.

Perhaps he was too preoccupied in that moment taking in the circumstances of his fate as he rattled in those chains hissing from the sharp stings of thin cuts lined across his stomach as he is forced to endure hearing the laughter of the crowd that surrounded his form splashing him with cold water running down his naked form.

In that time, he was a showstopper. Their entertainer for them to please as they push and pull him all around. So it’s no wonder when he had threw up so violently over himself that he knocked himself out once those nitrite blues started crawling down his hips and grasping at his skin to cut further into. He remembers nothing further of that eventful day but the fade of hysterical laughter will always be drilled into his ears.

He doesn’t know who he is without his trauma anymore. It’s almost intimate to him of how he feels reassured with the numerous scars decorating his skin. It’s something that had become whom he is.

Almost a lover.

But, how do you explain that to someone? It’ll seem like to anyone that he doesn’t want to get better but he already lost so much of himself. He had already become so familiar with this sight that its disappearance will toss him further back into the ends of his mind to find himself back. This sight, these scars are what’s left of him, a reminder that’s he’s still undeniably human and one of them, one of you.

Back in the basement, at least you didn’t hit him, taunt him, or stop feeding him.

You’re different. You always allow him to touch you and he’ll feel soft skin, and not latex on his fingers. Instead of drills and mocking laughter, there’s you peering down on him and praising him and giving him easy affections as you pat down and take care of all his wounds.

Maybe that’s what he finds so fascinating about this sight, Nikto thinks as he watches you bandage his arms, gently scolding him after catching him picking his scabs all bloody again in the bathroom that night, deciding to not punish him.

He doesn’t know why he did it.

You two just had a nice romp that afternoon with you spoiling him hours on end. Constantly cuddling and caressing his face, even giving him plenty of attention to his dick, easing him from the mess of his mind. Every sweet croon of your voice as you squeezed him dry had him gasping for air, head too full of that overwhelming pleasure as you bullied him to tears as you pushed him over and over to spill over your hand until he was empty, leaving him fuzzy enough to sleep as you cleaned and kiss his cries quiet. A reward for behaving so well, you said.

So why did he had to go and fuck it all up and ruin all your trust, he was doing so well!

Was it to remind himself that good things don’t last long when he snuck out the bed that hour, that this much happiness doesn’t belong to him, that he needed a relief to remind him of whom he was? What he came from?

He isn’t sure.

None of the rest do either.

Despite your best efforts to help him from his vices, as nowadays, you help him shave after telling you doesn’t trust himself with something so sharp near his face anymore. Sweetly enough, you said you don’t mind him hairy anyways if he so wishes to keep it that way, it’s cute, as you smoothed your terribly warm hands on his chest and patting it like he’s some big dog.

Humiliating.

But damn if he’s isn’t enjoying your attention as you cradled his face, calling him your good boy and how he’s still cute and all even when his face is obscured by his mask and saying it’s little happy hoodie to calm him down, you said once day, dropping multiple pairs on the bed for him to try on. Even allowing him to gather your clothes to sleep with. Compared to before, the comfort of the mattress in your bedroom does wonders to his body compared to the one from the basement, as he rumbles happily as you scratch his tummy and letting him thump against the cushion all tucked up in your lap as you watched some old television.

He’s undeniably warm and full from dinner hours ago, too sated with all the heat surrounding but that didn’t stop his stomach from dropping once you place a knife on his tummy.

Your neck is already littered with his marks: from the long scratches down your back, the cheeky playful nips at your fingers, and the dark bruises littering your throat. You know he likes claiming you. But you always wondered if he would had liked a more permanent mark on him from you.

“Nikto”, he’ll hear you speak ever so softly as you dragged the blade against his stomach.

Your breath is hot and heavy, against the back of his neck. You can feel him shiver at the coldness of the blade against his skin goosebumps arise from it. Your voice is clear as you dragged the sharpened weapon against, he’s deadly still.

“Would you mind if I place my initials here”, as you pointed the tip of the blade just a hair away from piercing into him

Fuck…

Yeah he would like that.

He will really like that.

Belonging somewhere, belonging to you. It’ll means you won’t abandon him. You’re just proving that. Anyone one who can see it will know he belongs to you. You can only laugh at seeing the tent forming in his pants as you pulled his shirt away, ensuring you wipe your hands and his skin clean with an alcohol wipe clean before placing on a glove to ensure his wound won’t get infected.

You’ll be a bad owner after all if he got too hurt.

As you settled better behind him, back pressed your chest, it will be your own little secret between him and you, whenever he can see your initials as you gently press the knife against his stomach, ensuring you are pressing into the meat of his lower tummy. No need to actually kill your doggie by cutting too deep, you’ll be a careless owner then.

Slow and precise, you made sure to keep a hand on Nikto’s chest so he won’t move as your made your cuts onto his skin. One by one, a letter formed onto his skin as Nikto hitched his breath, feeling the familiar sharp stings pressing onto his skin.

Soon enough, you were finished with your work as you wiped away the blood and begin cleaning yourself up as you cleaned the cuts with some alcohol spray and pressing a bandage over it. All while praising your boy for behaving so well as Nikto pants away as he grips onto your arm for comfort.

You’ll laugh seeing the tent in his jeans as you cooed the man for behaving so well, though you had to swat away Nikto’s hands from pressing down on the wound, however assuring him that since it’s only light cuts that it’ll heal soon and he can admire it later. As he lift his head up, you had little moments to prepare yourself as he flipped himself over to tackle you onto the bed, licking your face as he nuzzled into your neck thanking you for keeping him.

Time will touch all that is yours, but perhaps it will allow you to keep Nikto until your eventual end.

How sweet.

Though you will have to do something about that strange little green netted man who keeps popping up in your woods and disrupting your traps.

Maybe you’ll ought to get Nikto a little friend to occupy himself. He did say something about his men finding you.

The more the merrier, right?

#💀…cod #🐾…pet au #nikto x reader #mwii nikto #nikto cod #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #dom reader #mawlbone’s empty pen

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jinxsmascara · 2 days ago

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"Why do you like Silco from arcane SOOOOO much ?"

Well... number one: father figure of a character i KIN

Number two: his back story is the perfect exemple of ascending into...pure rage and unforgiveness like:

WARNING ARCANE S2 SPOILER !:

He was just a guy who worked with his brother in the mines and both were friends with Vi and Powder/Jinx mother (Felicia) ... yes he was a revolutionary , yes he was like "im too punk and edgy and cool for caring about the future ! Lets make Zaun !" Which was understandable i mean you live in a poor shitty undercity and you are looked down by the Pilities who never have to worry while you are in the slums worried if you will even have a tomorrow (lack of food n water / contaminated food n water , live in the streets for the most unlucky ones etc etc) and the Topside wont hear you , if course you go "FUCK IT LETS RIOT !" ... as we all know Silco fought on the bridge with Vander and Felicia (well maybe she didnt wanna fight because she had Vi and Powder/Jinx so maybe she was with them because she had to run from enforcers ?) ... and Felicia died (we dont know if Silco accidentally killed her wanting to punch an enforcer but in his "high" of "OH MY GOD IM PUNCHING EVERYONE !" or she was already dead (i think its the second option because we can see his face drop as he sees Felicia lifeless like "...no no no hey no this isnt supposed to happen !") ..) , Vander saw Silco at the wrong moment wrong time , and decided to just attack him...

Now just imagine that: you are fighting for your life and your people's lives , and you see your bestfriend dead , and you try to process that shit all while you have raging enforcers running at you wanting to arrest/kill you , and on top of that you have no time to explain or you simply cant explain to your brother why and how y'all best friend died ... and this brother of yours decides to attack you and kill you in the worse ways (drowning + gauging your left eye out) ... all you can think about is "i lost everyone... he hates me ! They all hate me! i hate them all ! Betrayers !" , you dont have time to think "its a misunderstanding ... its gonna be okay" ...

Of course i aint condoneing everything , im just stating the facts like...of course he would turn out this way after that crap ! The opposite woulda surprised me !

Also despite his "im a fucking menace" act... you can see when Vander attacks him again in S1 A3 , his first reaction is to FREEZE and have flashbacks of him being drowned again... THAT GUY STILL GETS MF PTSD LIKE DUDE GO TO THERAPY AND CALM YOUR TITS ! (He has to shake himself off like "WAKE UP HE IS GONNA KILL YOU !" to react)

(No i wont mention how...lame the excuse letter was , i mean , I know vander is shit at this (thats what he says in the letter too bwaha) but...he could have maybe asked for Benzo or someone else to help him write the letter for Silco ? Like instead of just "yeah uhm im sorry uhm...find me at the bar eh ?" (Which would have infuriated Silco even more imo , like imagine you get disfigurated and almost killed and the person who did that gives you a poor piece of paper ? He would have gone like "OH YEAH IM COMING TO THE MF LAST DROP AND IM GONNA KICK HIS DAMN ASS !" instead of "...mehhh fine okay") like an actual "lets have a talk...like two adults" one-)

Thankyou for assisting an episode of: Jinx takes a globally insignificant thing too much at heart !

- Jinx out

#arcane #arcane lol #silco #arcane silco #young silco arcane #vander #I understand that motherfucker #anyways he is a hot bastard #and my father figure #i like him #i have daddy issues and idk which one #.

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year2000electronics · 2 days ago

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do u watch the sonic movies just for agent stone and robotnik

i mean... originally i was going to, yeah! the exact moment the first ever trailer dropped (april 30, 2019) i was already enamored with jim carrey robotnik, and ready to accept that even if sonic's design didn't get changed (which, come on, this is hollywood... usually if an adaptation sucks then it sucks til the bitter end. some of us certainly didnt see the redesign coming), this movie would be my cult classic. flop or no flop. ugly or pretty sonic.

i guess because... i saw a lot of myself in the spin jim was putting on the character! eggman had always been the sonic character that fascinated me the most as i played all the mario & sonic crossover games as a kid, but the particular interpretation of this robotnik- flowing black coats with red trim, someone who grew up as a very lonely kid and so now compensates with leaning into the "lone wolf of evil" aesthetic, someone who has a hard time emoting and feels more like machine than a person so compensates with BIG, LOUD THEATRICS, and a BOMBASTIC TONE OF VOICE! i looked at him and i saw me. i know it sounds a little silly and a lot of jimbotnik's traits come from the fact that that's just jim carrey's style of humour and slapstick but he's just always been kinda special to me even from the beginning.

but yknow, then sonic's design gets fixed! exciting! and february 2020 rolls around, the EXCITEMENT is in the AIR. me i was always going to be fine, nothing about rob needed to be fixed, but now people are actually EXCITED for the movie! YAY!! i head into the movie, and robotnik is everything i could have ever wanted and more. he's silly. he's COOL. he has his own DANCE SCENE. but then i keep getting flashbanged by these SCENES where robotnik keeps getting like, really handsy with his little assistant he has? like he's putting his hands in his mouth and telling him to pin himself against the wall? and then this emotionally-constipated MESS of a man shouts "I LOVE THE WAY YOU MAKE THEM???" WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? WAIT WE'RE JUST MOVING ON? ARE WE GONNA GO BACK? NO?! OKAY!!

so obviously im in love with them. with that aspect of the movie. this improvised relationship where both actors asked themselves the question "wait, if robotnik hates humans, why does he keep this one around?" and that question would stick with me for all these 3 movies. it's just so interesting to think about. not to mention how well stone and robotnik just work together as an onscreen duo

but, y'know, then i started really liking the movie's strange, wacky style of storytelling and jokes- i had never seen a cgi animal movie that took the human characters THIS seriously yknow? and by that i mean characters like tom are goofy ofc but it feels like in movies like smurfs they almost want you to not care about the humans, but here, you have stone going from Figurehead for Robotnik's Parade of Black Suits to Guy Who Genuinely Has An Emotional B-Plot In Sonic 3, because of the love fans showed for the character and for how jim carrey and lee majdoub played off each other. even characters like maddie get more in movie 2 because of how tika sumpter said she wanted her character to do more LIKE... LIKE?!

the humour really gets me too, its so strange in a fun way i love. if i was just watching it for rob and stone i wouldnt be watching the knuckles show. ive grown to ADORE the world of the sonic movies, and the actual superpowered animals are cute too! i like their designs, and yknow, this love i have for the sonic movies HAS inspired me to check out more of the games, the shows, the comics, not only to see more of my beloved robotnik (who, yes, i love EVERY version of now. no version of the eggman can escape my love. he is the perfect man) but also to see the other parts of sonic lore because even if it's not like sonic is my fav of all time... i like the storytelling now!!

but stuff like that- my entire lil rant- i think it's why i try not to get gatekeepy when it comes to fandom. because for every series you were there for in the beginning and have an encyclopedic knowledge of, you will have another one where you're only there for a small part or only have a casual enjoyment of. i like to afford other people that kindness because there come times and places when i will be a casual enjoyer of something, and hopefully people will afford that kindness back to me. because even if i do explore other parts of sonic lore and diligently appreciate all parts of the movie, maybe the fact that i'm so robotnik-&-stone centric is still being too much of a casual for some people. maybe i'm only a fairweather fan. even so- even if people think i'm only watching these movies for rob & stone-

i'm having fun!

#mothra answers #sorry for the ramble. jimbotnik really means a lot to me!

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iconicstoner · 14 hours ago

Text

behind the scenes

gn!bau!reader x aaron hotchner (fluff, confessions)

words: 956

summary: Reader and Hotch have been keeping their love a secret, not even willing to admit it to each other, but when the reader starts having some financial issues Hotch knows he has to do something. The reader isn’t willing to take money from Hotch, but they gladly accept a confession of his love.

“Why did you call me into your office, sir?” you ask, closing the door to Hotchner’s dimly lit office. It’s not the first time you’ve been alone together in his office. Despite what you might want, nothing intimate has ever happened, just many late-night talks; venting to each other, telling stories, laughing, and even the occasional card game. You sit across from him as he slides his stack of paperwork to the side.

“I heard you’ve been struggling with money,” he says bluntly, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. You and Hotch had a confusing relationship. It was obvious to most people the two of you were head over heels, but you would never admit, even to each other, that you were in love. So, you were left to steal glances, let your hands linger when passing paperwork, and lean on each other only after everyone else on the jet fell asleep. With this line of work, anything else was too dangerous.

“Sir, you called me into your office to discuss my financial situation?” you ask quizzically. Aaron rarely called you into his office, not wanting anyone to suspect his true feelings, so this was strange.

“Garcia may have let it slip to me,” he responds, clearly taking this very seriously. You internally facepalm, knowing you shouldn’t have mentioned it to anyone.

“Yes, well the rent at my apartment went up, and on top of that I have student loans to pay off, and it’s just been hard to take care of everything on my salary,” you respond awkwardly.

“I see. I can put in a request for a raise for you if you’d li-”

“No, no that’s fine,” you say quickly, cutting him off. “I know the BAU is dealing with enough budget struggles as it is.”

“I could find the money,” he stares up at you, your features dimmed by the low light. He’d be disappointed if he hadn’t already memorized it.

“Aaron, you cannot give me federal funds to pay my rent,” you say in a hushed whisper, shocked that he would even suggest it. He just smiles.

“Embezzlement? No, I’d like to give you some of my money to help.”

“You can’t do that. What about Jack?”

“I promise, Jack and I are doing perfectly fine. He could go to Harvard for free with the money I have saved.”

“With a father like you, I’m sure he’ll get in.”

“You’re calling me smart?”

“No,” you grin, “but you’re in the FBI, so I’m sure you could guarantee his acceptance.”

“Right, with all the government money I’m embezzling,” he jokes. You just smile, taking a moment to look at him. His smile lines. The faint rings under his eyes from long nights at the office. It was all so perfect. “I just want you to know, I’m serious about this offer.”

“Aaron, my financial situation has been better since I last spoke to Garcia. I’m moving soon and I found a roomate.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he says with a small smile, staring into your eyes.

“Will that be all?” you ask, smiling back.

“Yes,” he says reluctantly. “But I have one request.”

“What’s that?” You stand up and Hotch is quick to follow suit.

“You’ll let me visit the new apartment?”

“Of course. As coworkers?” Aaron’s smile fades, his face forming a pensive expression, but he doesn’t say anything. You watch as he swallows thickly, struggling to form a response.

“Yes, of course, as coworkers,” he clarifies. You stare at him, not saying a word, barely struggling to hold your laughter in. He cracks a smile, seeing your expression. “Something to say?” he asks you.

“Maybe you should come over as more than a coworker,” you say slyly, hoping you aren’t pushing the envelope too far.

“I’d like that,” he quickly agrees. Relief floods over you, causing you to smile with glee.

“Is it too soon to kiss you?” You ask playfully, shooting him a wink.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” he says, leaning into you. You grab his tie, pulling him in close. Gently, he presses his warm lips against yours. He kisses you deeper, pressing your back against the office door. His big hands grab your waist, keeping you close. You snake your hands up his chest, wrapping them around his neck. Slowly, he pulls away, leaving you hungry for more.

“We should probably stop, maybe we could continue this when I get the new apartment tour?” he suggests.

“I’d be very open to that,” you reply with a smile. He smiles back, filling your stomach with butterflies.

“I’ll see you then,” Hotch replies, straightening out his suit. You do the same and open the door, revealing Garcia, Morgan, Spencer, JJ, and Emily staring at you with wide grins.

“I knew it!!” Garcia exclaims, high-fiving Morgan as she giggles.

“Never took Hotch for a ladies man,” Emily jokes dryly.

“You must not have been paying attention,” Morgan chimes in, “the guy’s smooth.”

“Right, and I’m sure he learned it from you,” JJ says sarcastically. You laugh at her remark, drawing attention back to you and Hotch.

“Really?” you ask, embarrassed, “even Spencer knew?

“I pick up on body language very well,” he says straight-faced. “Plus, you didn’t think we were all asleep on the jet, did you?” he asks, smiling wide. The whole team playfully laughs and you turn back to Hotch.

“I think our secret is out,” you tell him.

“They were going to learn eventually,” he says with a smile. He cradles the back of your head and gently kisses your forehead in front of the team. Cheers erupt from your friends, causing you to blush, but Hotch doesn’t seem embarrassed, if anything, he’s proud.

#criminal minds x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch x you #aaron hotch fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #aaron hotch imagine

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theheroheart · 1 year ago

Text

As an adult who celebrates (heavily secularised) Christmas, including now actually inviting people over for dinner and stuff, I now understand the reason behind going overboard making the house look nice.

It's not about appearances or upholding tradition or anything like that. We're only inviting people who don't really care, and I only care about traditions that make me happy.

HOWEVER

A) It's fun to decorate and do something a lil fancy once in a while!

B) It's a good fucking excuse to actually make yourself clean the house properly, after putting it off all year.

#real life maybe #i moved back in with my housemates in September #and it's been a slow progress of unpacking while also studying #the living room was so full of boxes stuff for a while #esp since we were also doing a BUNCH of house cleaning and getting rid of a load of things #and then we were getting new closets for storage space #and in general it's been like non-stop low-level chaos since summer #now we've FINALLY got almost everything worked out #and like yes. everything not perfect? it's fine. no one cares.#but it feels so good to get stuff done!!#also pls note that one of us has ADHD and apparently just fucking permanent iron deficiency fatigue (me)#another also has ADHD and is super busy. and the last one is autistic and is disabled with chronic pain #so it's frankly amazing when we do make the house look great

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tinystarbites · 4 months ago

Text

accidents | Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops [5.5k]

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst mainly Spencer doubting himself aww :(, Spencer is PINING for you hard (haha get it), nudes, Spencer loves you so much, pls someone give him a hug, m!masturbation, talk about sex, proofread but prolly not perfect lol, like you aren't probably ready for the amount of longing in this, *slaps Spencer* this bad boy can fit so much pining and yearning

read pt.II here

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Spencer swears it was an accident.

You were all away on a case, somewhere in Florida. And of course, something like that can only happen in Florida, because as much as he dislikes connecting random events with random locations, non-sequitur fallacy and all that, he cannot not say that many of his most embarrassing moments aren’t attributable to the south-eastern state. (He will not elaborate on these moments, he very much likes to keep most of his dignity still intact, thank you very much.)

But his dignity isn’t really the only thing that had been shattered to pieces by… by the accident. Far from it really and it- well, it- God, this really won’t end well for him, will it? He’s well and truly, as Emily likes to say, fucked.

It happened on the fourth day he and the team were cooped up in a small, dingy police station, chasing down an unsub that liked to paint intricate body art on the victim’s corpses as part of his MO. Aside from, y’know, slitting their throats with what seemed to be an old, rusty saw. The paradoxical duality of these two aspects, of the interplay of carefulness and diligence put into the painting process and the absolute careless way the unsub ends his victims was fascinating really – but not as much as it is disturbing, still.

Thus, this case is a very photography-heavy one. Most of the cases they solve involve photographs of some kinds of course, but Spencer has never sat in front of quite as many pictures of art and gore in his life before. It was strange, to say the least, even to him. Strange and annoying, to be honest.

Because Spencer isn’t exactly fond of all things that come with some electrical inner life, i.e. smartphones, his old brick of a phone isn’t exactly helpful for this case. He still feels the need to roll his eyes at Garcia after she, for the umpteenth time, called him an old grandpa and his phone a potato trying to pass as a phone. And failing miserably, especially when looking at the pictures it takes and their quality. Well, Penelope would say “pictures”, because she would also say that a resolution of beneath 60 PPI should be considered a war crime against modern technology, but Spencer doesn’t know and doesn’t want to know what that even means, so. Jokes on her.

Well, actually, the joke is on him. And yes, he knows, the joke is almost always on him, he knows his pipe-cleaner physique and too big eyes and long hair and everything about him really, makes him the perfect target for the occasional bullying he gets still as an adult, but he’s used to that. It’s normal, part of his everyday life. He can deal with that (more or less).

What he so brilliantly cannot deal with however, is having you around him almost 24/7. Because Hotch had had the amazing idea of fixing you to his hip as his personal photographer to circumvent his technological potato-problem. Uh- not that you, that you take pictures of him, why would you ever do that, but more like, taking pictures for him. Of their victims. And the body art.

Spencer was actually waiting for your protest, because there seems to be nothing worse for you than to stay inside the office when you could be out there, on the fields, in midst of all the action. Where Spencer usually isn’t. But that’s fine of course. Completely, absolutely fine. Spencer doesn’t look up every time the door to the tiny room he’s set up his camp in opens to see if it’s you bringing him another coffee just the way he likes, if it’s your smile that will make him feel more energized than any overly sweet coffee ever could. If it’s your voice and smell and aura (Penelope is definitely getting into his head) that for the short while you are there, makes everything seem so much more manageable.

It’s an energy burst unlike any other and Spencer is aware of what that means, so aware his body burns with it sometimes… Often. Okay, fine, most of the time. He just prefers to ignore it and enjoy the precarious friendship he built with you for what it is because he just likes to have you around so very much and – this was so not the point he wanted to make. He’s hopeless, when it comes to you, and it really is kind of embarrassing.

So, this is why the joke is so entirely on him that it’s not even a joke anymore. It’s basically bullying, he feels bullied. Because you actually had beamed the prettiest smile he’s ever seen at him, said ‘Oh finally, I can unpack all the dark hidden talents from within me’ which was so cryptic but so you and then you also winked at him. And well, Spencer has to lie if he were to say that he was being totally normal about this. That you didn’t just upheave his insides like an earthquake of magnitude eight with a single wink. Oh, he’s in so much trouble.

The first two days the two of you work side by side proceed without any unforeseen occurrences. And Spencer is so glad about that he could cry. From the moment you had joined the team two years ago, from the moment he met you, it was an undeniable fact that you were nice. Not only that, but truly, selflessly kind in a way that has left him all too choked up to even speak on multiple occasions now. The team is nice to Spencer, of course they are, they��re his family. But nothing in the entire world could have adequately prepared him to the spring of kindness you so freely distribute to anyone willing to receive it. And god, Spencer is willing. Is it every time you listen to him ramble on and on, unable to really hold his tongue despite the embarrassment clouding his cheeks darker. Is it every time you ask him about the book he’s reading, every time you ask him how his mother is doing and just- all these tiny things that add up and completely smush his brain into a fuzzy mess of warmth that leaks down his body.

He literally could spend every minute of every day just sitting next to you and soak up your presence and he would be the happiest person alive. That’s why he cherishes your friendship to him so strongly, and that’s why it’s the worst thing that Spencer is, well, himself.

He knows that you would probably be too nice to outright state that something he does unsettles you. Changes the way you think about him. Still. There is the worry. Buried so deep in his mind it’s as if he was born with it. And that’s why he’s so relieved that he is keeping the worst of the ‘Reid effect’ at bay while working with you on this twisted painter case.

It all goes well, until it doesn’t. Of course. Good things never seem to last for Spencer.

It’s already later in the afternoon on the fourth day you are working the case, no end in sight, unfortunately. Spencer is bend over the table, hands entwined in front of his mouth as he’s staring down the printed pictures of the unsub’s latest victim from three days ago. The brushstrokes seem remarkably stable, the colours uncannily vibrant. Spencer does not know much about art, but he does recognise talent when he sees it. And this unsub seems to have it in abundance. It’s almost a shame he’s a deranged killer. But oh well.

He jumps in his seat when the door to his room abruptly bangs open and a dishevelled looking you is bustling into the room.

Your expression turns apologetic. “Oh Spencer, shit, sorry. I didn’t wanna startle you, but they just found another victim.”

And oh. Spencer feels his heart sink in his chest. Guilt tugging it further down into the abyss. Why wasn’t he faster with figuring out these paintings?

“Really? Where?”

You immediately launch into a rapid-fire list of details, all in the wrong order because you do tend to be a bit all over the place. Spencer doesn’t mind. Gives him a bit more of a challenge to order the information in his brain the way it works for him. You two work surprisingly well in that regard.

While talking, you round the desk that almost takes up all the little space available in the room. You sit in the chair next to him, so close he can feel the stressed warmth radiating from you and it takes a very good portion of his brain’s capacity to stop his hand from reaching out. Or do something else even stupider. More stupid? Oh hell. It’s a wonder he can talk in complete sentences with you.

He watches you pull out your phone, fingers typing in the passcode he guessed right after two weeks of knowing you. The indignant expression on your face had been adorable. That’s why he still guesses your new passwords weekly, just to mess with you a little bit. Because he’s apparently insane like that.

“Here”, you turn the display of your phone towards him, “Precinct’s out of ink. Do you mind looking at the pictures on my phone until I come back from the store?”

This is where Spencer should have said no. Declined politely, smile on his face. Tell you that sorry, I don’t really get the same detail on screen like on a printed version. Should’ve emigrated to Tristan da Cunha, change his name to Ferdinand. Whatever. Anything, except say, “Oh, of course. That’s no trouble.”

You smile that breathtaking smile of yours, fingers touching his slightly while giving him your phone. Spencer sucks his lower lip between his teeth to keep himself from making any kind of noise at the tingly feeling skittering down his back.

He can’t not smile back at you. It’s one of his many weaknesses. Jello, trying to out-solve himself every day with New York Times’ new crossword puzzles, dairy. Halloween themed socks. Old obscure movies no one has ever heard of. Reading the most difficult books in twenty minutes. You.

Once you left, Spencer starts diligently going through the photographs of their latest victim. Not yet identified white male. Average height, average weight. Short-buzzed sandy brown hair. Striking blue eyes that seem to stare at him accusingly even after death.

He works through approximately forty pictures taken off the intricate and detailed body art. This time, the unsub left many smaller paintings woven in a bigger, overall painting. There’s still one that Spencer hasn’t seen a close up of, that’s kind of hidden behind the victim’s ears. Maybe you saved it to a different folder. He clicks around your gallery for some time, opening and closing folders full of holiday pictures. Pictures of you, smiling, at the beach. A folder full of memes that he doesn’t get but is familiar with because you keep sending them to him anyways. Spencer is aware that he probably shouldn’t have just- perused your gallery like that. But he was in case-mode. Hyper-focused on finding the next clue, on detangling the next hint that would bring them further. That would finally be the key to end this case and bring justice to all the victims.

He isn’t really thinking, when he clicks on a folder titled ‘xxx lol’. Thinks it’s another one full of memes because of the abbreviation, but maybe you accidentally saved pictures of the case in there, wouldn’t be too out of character for you and-

Spencer sucks in a breath.

Drops your phone almost as an afterthought. The noise of it clattering to the table makes him flinch.

It lands display down. Small mercies and all that.

And Spencer is- he is-

… That was not-

Not -

There’s a weird buzzy feeling in his limbs, his chest and head. Like his blood turned into a swarm of bees. He feels like someone dumped a bucket of ice over his head and like he’s on fire simultaneously.

Okay. Okay.

That was not- pictures of the case.

Definitely not.

Oh Jesus Christ.

Spencer was definitely not supposed to see. That. Not supposed to see you- like that. Ever.

His heart is totally beating itself into a frenzy. There are at least two litres of blood rushing to his head. The other four are gathering somewhere down down down and oh. Oh shit.

Spencer is actually fucked. More than that. He wants to get fucked and that’s. Just. Even worse.

He wants to scream.

He ends up biting his knuckles and letting out a frustrated noise against his fingers.

Did he really.

Did he really just see your nudes?

(And yes, he knows that word. Penelope is a bad influence on him.)

His head is kind of a- a mess. More than usual when you are around. And… what. What does he do now? He can’t just- can’t just leave your phone like that. You’d obviously see what he was looking at and that’s just- unacceptable.

But the other option appears just as preposterous. Because, because, he’d have to look at your phone again. At you, like that, again. To get out of ‘xxx lol’. Damn you. Why did you have to be so unserious and name your, uhm, very personal folder like that? And no password-block?

Spencer feels a different kind of warmth enveloping him because it’s just- so you, silly and funny and kind of unbelievable and Spencer is so deeply in love with you that he feels like he’s going crazy with it. Of course, you’d be like that about stuff like that as well. Spencer would give everything to just once experience what it’d feel like to kiss you. To feel your lips twisted in a silly smile against his, flicking a finger at his ear because you would. Do that. When kissing someone. And okay. Okay. Spencer needs to get his shit together, like, yesterday.

You could come back any second now, actually and fuck. He needs to close the gallery app on your phone, asap.

His hands are trembling as they retrieve your phone from the table.

He allows himself a deep breath. And then. With eyes squeezed almost close, he taps the return arrow. Well, tries to. He thinks he managed to escape your nudes-folder without any hiccups but well.

Spencer is freaking inept with technology.

So. He finds himself looking at another picture of you and god, it actually might kill him.

It’s inappropriate. So so so so inappropriate. You would kill him dead if you ever knew Spencer was ogling your pictures like that. Like a perverted stalker.

But. But.

There shouldn’t even be a ‘but’.

But.

You’re just. You’re just- You’re incredible. Not even in a sexual way, just-

You’re so beautiful it hurts.

And call Spencer selfish, a pervert, whatever. Because he knows, okay? But he also knows that he’d never, ever get to see you like that. And it hurts in a different way now, because Spencer just wants. Wants you so much. You and you, just you.

But…he’d never get to have you. Which is fine, of course. Having you as a friend is actually one of the best things that ever happened to him, and he’d never do anything to endanger that-

…Well. He’s not perfect. So, sue him, for only once, giving into his deepest darkest desires. He’s only human. And pathetically in love with you. And attracted to you. Oh, he wants to be with you so badly. Wants to- wants to get kissed and held by you. Wants to make love with you, which just. Sounds so dumb and cliche. But maybe he just is that for you.

Still. He shouldn’t think how absolutely breathtaking you look, sprawled across the white linen of presumably your bed. He knew you worked out regularly, but. Spencer feels hot all over when he thinks how easily you could just. Manhandle him around. To wherever you wanted him. And this is something he apparently likes. (He consciously stores that information away for later. Later.)

He shouldn’t think how you would tease him, how you would make him beg for you before he’d even taken off his clothes. He would. He would beg for you, go on his knees. Everything, everything.

He shouldn’t think how warm and safe you’d make him feel, even after knowing he’s inexperienced in everything. You’d take his face in your hands, smile at him so beautifully he’d cry. Tell that ugly internalized shame to go ‘fuck off to Jupiter’.

Oh, he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. He shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t.

But there’s always so much he shouldn’t do. Friends shouldn’t think of other friends like that. Friends don’t imagine how it would feel to be taken apart and put together again by their friend. Friends shouldn’t want to touch, touch, touch-

Maybe, for once, he just. Has enough of that. Maybe, he could just. Indulge. For a minute. To know what it’d be like. Just. A little.

To know what it’d be like if this picture was meant for him. What it’d be like- Be like to see you. And for you to see him. Like that. What it’d feel like to crawl into your lap, bury his face in your neck. Set his teeth on the gentle skin there and hear you gasp for him. How you’d bury your hands in his hair, and he’d make the most miserable noises until you pulled and-

Something in the corner of his eyes catches his attention and- shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

That’s you. Walking towards the door.

His hands are shaking so badly he has difficulties navigating your phone. But thankfully, this time, he manages to leave ‘xxx lol’ and find his way back to the evidence folder.

Oh god.

Did he actually- He actually-

The door springs open. Spencer startles kind of violently.

(Oh god.)

You have a big grin on your face. Some magenta ink smutched across your left cheek. And Spencer knows what you look like without-

“Heya, Spence, you won’t believe what just happened-“

(Oh god.)

“Uh… you okay there?”

His face feels like it’s on fire. His heartbeat is spiking and, well. He’s never been quite this turned on his entire life. He feels himself hard and aching against his trousers and Spencer wants you to push him down on the table and-

Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god-

He needs to- leave. Right now.

“Fine”, he squeaks, voice all over the place and he cringes, “Just-“

He wags his hands around in a very confusing, general manner. Grabs some photographs.

“I need to- Need to. Bathroom”, is all he somehow manages, photographs surely placed in front of his, ahhhh, problem.

You look at him as if he lost his mind. He probably has. “Oh-kay? Then… go?”

Spencer goes.

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

Spencer can’t stop thinking about those pictures.

He’d known it would come to this. Him, lying wide awake on the uncomfortable hotel bed.

Having an eidetic memory has never felt more like a curse to him as now.

He buries his head further into the pillow. Fingers digging into it. Pulling his legs closer to him and, ah. That. Probably wasn’t the greatest idea of his.

He’s still- turned on. Uncomfortably so.But just thinking of taking care of that. Well. He’s 100% sure that that’s not the way to go about forgetting these pictures.

Also, it’s bad enough already that he even saw them. It would be so much creepier to jerk himself off to them. To you. His best friend. But- ugh.

It’s always kind of uncomfy for him to be away on a case. He prefers his own four walls over anything else, kind of, except maybe the university library. And now, being sexually frustrated away on a case that requires even more focus than other cases do?

Oh, Spencer is so fucked.

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

You notice that something is off with him. It really would have been a miracle if not, because then Spencer would’ve had to question your profiling skills. But even then- he doesn’t think that you’d even need to have these skills to notice him acting off.

Because Spencer is so not the person to play incidents like that cool. He is painfully aware of that, thank you very much.

So, the next day, when you came to say hi to him (“Hey there, Mr. Doctor.”), after he basically ran off the day before, and you, as always, casually put your hand on his shoulder, Spencer, he-

He spit out his coffee.

He could feel you freeze through the hand on his shoulder. Your expression would’ve been comical if Spencer wasn’t dying.

“Uhh… Do you… Do you need a moment?”

Well, that was a freaking understatement. Spencer needs not a moment but all of them to try to get his act together.

…which he didn’t. Not for the rest of that day, and also not for the day after. And the day after. This case apparently will never end. Fucking Florida.

You, of course being the kind soul you are, tried talking to him.

(“Spencer, are you okay? You’ve been acting kinda-“

“What? What do you mean? I’m fine, completely.”

“Uhm… Sure. If you wanna talk about it, you got my number.”)

And well. Spencer feels like he is going insane.

It’s come down to him not being able to spend more than thirty minutes uninterrupted in your vicinity without getting semi-hard, because he knows. Without him almost doing something stupid and drop to his knees then and there and beg you to either forgive him or to please let him eat you out.

Ah, yes, because apart from being so frustrated he could scream, he’s also feeling so guilty it’s slowly killing him.

There you are, still being his absolute favourite person on the planet, unaware of what kind of person you are laughing with. Of what Spencer did. It was an accident yes, but- He should’ve said something. Maybe warned you so that it would not happen again. Ugh, but the more time passes the worse it gets. The more impossible it feels to just- go to you and say ‘ah, uhm, by the way, I saw your nudes and maybe you should put those behind a password block’.

Spencer is just- the worst friend. What friend doesn’t give their friend a heads-up about something like that? He’ so, hopeless, incompetent, and he gets it now why he didn’t have that many friends in school.

It’s gotten so bad so quickly that the others started noticing too, obviously. It really is a curse working with profilers. Spencer should reconsider his move to Tristan da Cunha.

“What’s got pretty boy so worked up, huh?”, Morgan asked him on the day after the incident.

“Did something happen, Spence?”, JJ pulled him aside on the second day after.

“Are they cancelling Doctor Who?”, Emily, on the first day after.

“Kid, you need to eat something”, as Rossi pressed a protein bar into his hands.

Even Penelope texted him.

is it what i think it is? ;))))))

He did not dignify her with an answer.

When Hotch comes to him on the evening on the second day after, Spencer is a mess. He’s practically spent the entire day in some state of fluster. He noticed he’s trailing off when he’s info-dumping. That he’s just- staring off into space more often than he usually does. That he can’t talk to you properly without stuttering, that he avoids looking you in the eyes. So, it really was only a matter of time until their unit chief would scold him. Or whatever Hotch is here to do.

“Listen, Reid”, he says, tone of voice a little too similar to when he is talking to Jack when he did something mildly inconvenient, “whatever it is, and I don’t want to know unless it’s something bad, deal with it. We need you with a clear head here, okay?”

And well, that could’ve gone a lot worse.

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

He still thinks so once he falls into bed that evening. But now-

Deal with it.

How? How should he deal with that? It’s not like he can just press the ‘Delete’-button in his memories. Thanks for nothing, Hotch.

His eyes strain from staring at the ceiling in the dark. Closing them doesn’t really help because all he’d see is you. He’s such a mess.

A pining, pathetic loser mess and he’s so hard again he can’t properly think. It’s just- Spencer has had rather inappropriate thoughts about you before. Has actually spent way too many hours in his apartment just lazing around, thoughts occupied on all the countless ways he’d like you to make him lose his goddamn mind. It had been kind of an accident (isn’t that just the story of his life), the first time it happened.

Spencer had almost been finished with his report, he’d just needed an additional detail from you to finish up. He’d asked Morgan where you were, and this is how he found himself walking down the corridor to Penelope’s ‘Dungeon’. Which, he’d never say out loud because that’s just ridiculous, right?

He saw the door to her office was slightly ajar, a mix of yellowish-red light splitting the hallway in half where it spilled out of the open gap.

There’s a giggle coming from inside the room and Spencer smiles- can’t help it really, because your laugh is just so absolutely ridiculous, a kind of high-pitched screech that ends in airy laughter and he’s so obsessed with it he wants to engrave it on a CD to listen to it again and again.

“No way, gorgeous, I don’t believe that”, Penelope whisper-giggled.

Spencer didn’t realize his steps slowed down, too curious by what you two could be talking about. And also, kind of forgetting that you shouldn’t just listen to other people’s conversations like that.

“Oh yes”, your voice was low, and Spencer would be lying if he said it didn’t send a tingle along his spine, “He broke up with me, but he came crawling back to me not even two months later because I apparently ‘ruined him’ for anyone else.”

Ruined him? What did you mean?

Both Penelope and you were laughing now, louder than before.

“You really, really gotta teach me your devious ways, buttercup.”

You snicker. “I guess it all boils down to making them come so hard they cry and forget their own name, really.”

Spencer didn’t get the detail he needed from you that day.

He’d gotten something much worse and that was curious. From the limited sexual encounters he’s had in his life before (a rushed hand-job somewhen in university in a toilet cubicle by that one other student he was into back then) he couldn’t really imagine something like sexual gratification that made one cry. Sure, getting himself off felt good. Sure, that orgasm had been fine. But… it could feel better?

He kind of didn’t think of that before.

So, when flustered-he had returned to his apartment after that overheard conversation, he kind of… thought about what these things could be that you did, to make others feel so good they lose the basic functions of their memory.

And the rest is basically history.

Of course, he’d never touched himself while doing… research about your techniques. It just felt- wrong. You are his friend and despite of his crush on you, it didn’t feel right.

But now…

He really really shouldn’t. But, he’s just so- desperate. For you and for things to go back to how they were. Without him almost bursting at the seams each time you look at him because before, he never had any problems with categorizing his mind like he does now.

So maybe… Maybe he can just… Do it once? Real quick, to get it out of his system?

The longer Spencer turns the thought in his head, the more… it seems like a good idea. You’d never know. Spencer could forget about- about the accident and move on. Solve the case and finally leave cursed Florida behind. If he just does it this one time, it’s not that bad right?

The fuzzy pleasure that shoots up his spine when he finally, finally presses his hand against himself through his pyjama pants answers him. Yes, yes, it says and more more more-

Spencer has never been good in denying himself things that make him feel good, better than good, things that make him forget about any pain that has nestled inside of his body or mind. Right now, that thing is you. Oh, perfect beautiful lovely you. He can’t stop the way his lips twitch into a smile, almost shy, even though he’s alone. But something about you just-

He gasps, back arching a little when he slides the palm of his hand along himself, still through two layers of fabric.

Something about you just- god, how can he put this into words- something about you just makes him feel- safe. Seen. Taken care of. And it’s just, so foreign to him. Strange. He’s always been looking after himself. After dad left and mom-

He’s kind of addicted to it. To the way you make him feel. Spencer can’t get enough of it, can’t get enough of you. Never never enough.

His fingers trail circles around the head of his cock, light and unhurried, enjoying the shivers of good good amazing it sends through his limbs, to his fingertips. Spencer can feel the tension leaking out of him, can feel his muscles relax and his mind become hazy. He should do this more often, god he always forgets how good it is, it feels.

He almost forgets why he decided to get off right now. It had something to do with you. You. Naked and there, here with Spencer. He whines a little because you aren’t here, why aren’t you here he wants that so badly-

But all he has is the crystal-clear mental snapshot of your nudes. Spencer doesn’t remember ever remembering something with such clarity before. He feels kind of embarrassed by that, how obviously desperate he is for you. How he would do everything for you, with you. But this feels so good that he doesn’t care about any kind of embarrassment or shame that might trigger his self-loathing.

He increases the pressure of his palm slightly, oh god oh oh, it’s so good already and Spencer hasn’t even touched yet, not properly at least, but oh. Oh, he wants moremoremore-

It’s so easy letting his thoughts tangle, mixing old and new. Fantasies and reality. The you from the pictures merges with the you from his daydreams and oh shit. Oh fuck.

Spencer moans, high and needy at the back of his throat and god how are you so beautiful?

Imagined-you has absolutely nothing on the real you. Spencer could have never himself come up with you because he just lacks the imaginative capabilities to conjure the absolute vision you are. The vision you portray on those freaking pictures that have branded themselves into his very neurons. He’s sure, absolutely sure, that he will never get over them. Over you. Doesn’t even really want to.

Because he is quite certain that the sight of you, your stomach your thighs your arms your tits your- oh he forgot where he was going with this.

By now, Spencer’s hand has dipped beneath his pyjamas and beneath his boxers and he moans again, his lips pulled between his teeth and eyes shut because the feeling of good good better more almost peaks when he grabs himself, finally.

His right hand starts an even, slow pace along his cock because if he is only ever doing this once, he is going to make most of it.

It doesn’t take long for him to get close, though. He’s been so wound up the last few days, it really is no surprise. It’s actually more surprising he hasn’t come all over himself already.

Soft, keening noises are continuously spilling from between his lips, hips moving together with his hand because he just can’t help himself. The heat in his abdomen is building and building and he whimpers because he wants it to be you so so badly, his thoughts are a mess, he is a mess and he wishes he could be your mess, yours, yours to make a mess of and oh god he’s going to-

A knock. On his door.

He freezes, blood rushing loud in his ears, heart pounding and his cock hot in his hand and begging him to not stop but-

“Spencer? It’s me, can you let me in?”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

pt. II? 👀

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #tinywrites #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #tinywrites:accidents

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tomboy014 · 2 months ago

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But if Batman won't adopt Danny... who will?

Starfire, and she is all over her new little brother!

Shortly after establishing the Teen Titans, Robin (Dick) introduces “Phantom” to the group, because seriously, he’s not introducing him as “Danny.” Kinda defeats the purpose of a secret identity when you use your name in your superhero moniker. And shows Phantom his room.

Robin’s actual goal is to get Phantom to join the Titans, but even taking short cuts through the Ghost Zone, Jump City is still a good ways away from Amity Park, and he has parents, so… It’s still a nice gesture and all, and Phantom will come visit, but no.

Still, he’s never met other teens who are heroes in their own right like he is, so he’s excited to meet Robin’s new team. The other Titans think it’s a little weird for this not-member to have his own room in the Tower, but the place is huge, and Robin trusts him, so it’s fine. It’s a bit awkward at first as they’re all still getting used to each other, but Phantom quickly makes friends with all of them.

But it’s his friendship with Starfire that grows first and fastest. As soon as he finds out she’s an alien from another planet, he latches on and must know everything. Starfire more than welcomes the attention. While she knows the Titans care for her, they’re not always… receptive to the traditions and customs of her culture. Phantom, on the other hand, is enraptured as she tells him about her culture, her holidays, the planets she’s been to, everything.

So she asks if he’d be interested in learning Tamaranean? Yes! 100%! Absolutely! Phantom picks up the language quickly and returns the favor by helping Starfire with her English. While the ability to absorb language through lips is handy, it’s by no means perfect, and Phantom helps her with things like contractions, slang, idioms, etc.

It also helps that after a couple sparring sessions with each other, Phantom and Starfire realize just how durable their partner is. For Starfire, the people and things on Earth can be so delicate. And for Phantom, if he doesn’t watch himself and hurts a human too badly, it’s just more justification to call him an “evil ghost” that should be ripped apart molecule by molecule. Both are thrilled to finally be able to fight all out again without worrying about the consequences if they lose. And Starfire also uses it to teach Phantom some Tamaranean martial arts for aerial combat so maybe he’ll stop crashing into so many walls.

But what really changes the relationship is the Body Swap incident (not to be confused with the Freaky Friday incident). Similar to what happened with the Puppet King in Switched, Phantom and Starfire switch bodies while fighting an enemy. Unlike what happened in Switched, Phantom and Starfire and two teen powerhouses with green energy powers triggered by emotions. And the emotional triggers they use are in the same ballpark. Starfire’s “unbridled joy of flight” to fly is very similar to how Phantom revels in the pure freedom of flight he feels. Both get angry when they use blasts. It’s very much a “if you believe in it, you can do it” kind of power set. Starfire can’t really figure out Phantom’s more ghostly abilities like invisibility or intangibility, but they very quickly adapt to each other’s shared powers on the fly during battle. But there’s one power Starfire wants to use against the hordes of minions that Phantom won’t share the trigger for: the Ghostly Wail. He tries to tell her it’s not a good move, that it’ll use up too much power, it should only be used as a last resort, it’ll cause too much collateral damage, etc., but Starfire wants to know, and eventually he tells her.

“T-terror… and desperation.”

Starfire rushes to give Phantom the biggest hug ever because those are such horrible feelings, and she doesn’t want to imagine what conditions must have led to him developing such a power because no one should have to feel such feelings. He is right; and that is not a power she needs to use to win this battle. The minions are defeated, the villain is forced into a temporary retreat, and the Teen Titans return to the Tower to regroup and plan.

However, Starfire doesn’t know how to power through and hold onto Phantom’s ghostly form, and as soon as the adrenaline from the fight wears off, rings of white light spread out of her middle, and Phantom turns back into Danny in the middle of the living room.

But more importantly, everyone needs to get out of the way RIGHT NOW because while Phantom can ignore his biological needs for days, Danny can’t, and Starfire has never had to pee this badly ever in her whole life and everyone needs to MOVE, PLEASE! as she rushes into the nearest bathroom.

Phantom/Danny is now panicking, because even as an alien, he’s pretty sure she’s bound to notice that some bits of male anatomy that should be there are… missing. He’s begging her, through the door in Tamaranean, not to tell anyone about his secret. He’s not ready to come out yet, and he’s honestly pretty scared he’s about to lose her friendship, too. Starfire doesn’t really care. So long as you’re a strong warrior, Tamaraneans don’t care what’s going on in someone’s pants, and she’s just relieved she didn’t have to figure out different plumbing while in his body. Starfire opens the door. While she knows that the people of Earth are not always as understanding, Danny need not fear her. She will not tell anyone he's trans until he is ready to tell them himself and supports him and goes in for a hug.

Except you haven’t washed your hands; gross! They both laugh it off, but when Starfire goes to wash her hands, the water freezes. The cold energy in Danny’s core is building, and Starfire doesn’t know how to let it out. They need to switch back to their own bodies soon, or Danny’s body, and Starfire, might not survive. A little more training so Starfire can turn back into Phantom, and the Titans are ready for the final act, take down the final villain and Starfire and Phantom are back in their own bodies.

But after that, Phantom is no longer Starfire’s friend. Danny is her little brother, and she tells him her name is Koriand’r, or Kor’i for short.

<<Prev Next>>

#dpxdc #arkham guard au #arkham guard backstory #trans!danny #danny phantom #starfire #this got long so I'll be splitting it into multiple parts #long post

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gguk-n · 3 months ago

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Daddy Dearest (Oscar Piastri Dad fic)

Summary- Oscar is a girl dad.

There weren't many people who had Oscar wrapped around their little finger, except Amelia Piastri. Almost 2 years old and she could make Oscar dance like a chicken on the drop of a hat.

Oscar had met Amelia's mother and the love of his life, Y/N when they were in high-school. They started dating soon after. The year Oscar was a reserve driver for Alpine; he might not have been busy racing but he was busy with his girlfriend. The whole Alpine-Mclaren fiasco brought us baby Mia. It was a usual Thursday, Y/N had been stressing out about missing her period for the second time this month when she had regular periods since she could remember. A thought passed through her; it had been floating around in her head since last month. What if she was pregnant? Oscar and her had always been safe; but not a single contraceptive was a hundred percent perfect. So, without informing Oscar, she went to the store and bought a few tests. When the first one said positive, she did another and then another. By now Oscar had become aware of his missing girlfriend who was coup-ed up in their bathroom for the past half hour. He was knocking on the door; "babe, is everything okay? You've been in there since you returned" But when no reply came; the knocking became more rapid and worried. "Y/N, are you ok? Please answer. You're stressing me out" he begged. Then the door opened slightly. A tear stained Y/N was peaking her head out. Oscar pushed the door open and hugged her. He was scanning the room as his girlfriend's body shook slightly; that's when he saw it; pregnancy tests. He pulled away to look at her; "Have you been busy taking those pregnancy test?" he asked. "How do you know what they are?" she hiccuped. "I've watched TV growing up" he smiled. She nodded and handed the 3 tests to him. They all read pregnant in bold letters. Oscar was over joyed; "Are we gonna be parents?" he shouted. "You're not angry?" she asked. "Why would I be? I get to have kids with the love of my life. Best thing that could ever happen to me" he stated. For the first time since she got the tests, she smiled. "Aren't we too young though?" she asked. "Yes, but I could take on the world with you by my side" he said kissing her. "You'll be the best dad ever" she told him. "You'll be the best mum ever" he said. The pair stayed in each other's embrace for a long time. Oscar will never admit it but he cried and then went on reddit to research what to do as a first time dad.

Amelia was born the next year when Oscar was busy racing. He wasn't able to be there for the birth of his daughter; he might have called his mother and cried about being a shitty dad from the get-go. But his father later consoled him and told him it would be fine. Oscar flew out the first chance he got to be with his girlfriend who was being taken care of by both their parents. The first time he held Amelia, he had started crying as soon as she opened her big brown eyes and looked at him. She was an exact copy of him when he was a baby, at least that's what his mother said. Y/N had to console him instead of the baby. He was sat there with his arms wrapped around Y/N who held their daughter for a really long time. Y/N had fallen in love with the name Amelia after watching the Princess Diaries growing up and Oscar wasn't about to argue with Y/N about naming their daughter after the Queen of Genovia. That's how she was named "Amelia Opal Piastri"

Oscar kept them hidden from the world after they had mutually decided not to tell anyone except their close friends and family which some how, had now included Lando Norris, much to Oscar's dismay since his daughter from the moment she could speak called Lando her twin; Oscar hated it, he was just dad or daddy when she wanted something but Lando was her best friend and twin. Lando took great joy in having to be able to steal Amelia away. Lando was helping Oscar move since he'd been staying in Monaco longer and moving with a kid wasn't easy. Mia was being very difficult today until she saw her Uncle Lando and jumped out of Oscar's arms running to Lando. "Lan, I mwiss you" she pouted raising her hands as if to signal him to carry her. Lando quickly scooped her in his arms, kissing her cheeks which elicited giggles. She wrapped her arms around Lando's neck and turned to her dad sticking her tongue out making Oscar pout. "Come here, you're my princess" he whined. "NO. I wan Lan" she said and hugged him tighter as Oscar tried to pull her away. "Oscar, behave. We have a lot of work to do. If Lando can watch over her while we unpack, that'll be great." Y/N said kissing her daughter's cheek and giving Lando a hug. Reluctantly Oscar agreed to let Lando play with her while he got the house unpacked.

While the two unpacked, Lando kept their little princess entertained. "Lan, do you vroom vroom fast?" she asked playing with the race cars she had. "Yeah" he nodded. "my daddy, vroom vroom" she paused for a moment to think, "fast more, win, wohooo" she said jumping up when the Oscar car she was playing with won and Lando's car came in second. Obviously, Mia was growing up watching racing; her dad was a F1 racer. Lando laughed when she jumped up; "Uncle Lando won many races too" he said. "My daddy win 2 races" she said looking at her fingers, counting them and holding up 2. She looked proud of herself for holding the correct number of fingers, Lando was proud too.

All that playing had tired her out; she was now laying on Lando's chest mumbling gibberish about how Leo could fly while he patted her to sleep. Oscar came back to find his daughter peacefully asleep. "I hate that she likes you more than me" Oscar stated watching the two. "Who said that?" Lando tried to control his laugh. "You can see right now" Oscar pointed out. "Mate, she loves you so much. All we talked about was how her daddy is so fast and has won 2 races." he added. Oscar smiled, "I'll put her in her room, we just got done with that" he said slowly taking her to her bed.

The house would take a few more months before they would be able to be done completely. Mia was already enjoying her play dates with Leo and Roscoe. Alex and Leo would be over a few times a week since Mia would pester Alex to come over with Leo. Leo loved Mia so much, the two would always be seen rolling around on the floor or running after each other. They never seem to tire out until they did and then they would be cuddling each other in their sleep on the couch. Roscoe was an older dog and he had seen quite a few children, he kept Mia more tame if that was possible. He would look out for her and protect her from harms way. He was very protective of her; it was very adorable to watch.

During the break, Oscar was spending the 3 weeks with his family. Y/N had been taking the bulk of parenting their 2 year old which did make Oscar feel guilty and he would try to give her as much me time when he was around as possible. "It's time for a daddy-daughter date" Oscar cooed at Mia as he carried her to get dressed. "What does my princess wanna eat today?" he asked plopping her on the changing table. "I want dino and fries and juice and white icey and tuddles" she cheered. She couldn't say Vanilla ice cream yet so it was white icey and cuddles were tuddles which Oscar hoped she wouldn't out grow. Oscar changed her into a pink tutu on her request. The two of them sat on the sofa watching Bluey with their dino nuggets, fries and a juice. Once she was done eating, half the fries were in Oscar's mouth but who was counting; he got out the ice cream and this was the one food item she would not share with anyone. The latest episode they were watching finished up and Mia was cuddling her dad. Oscar rubbed circles on her back to help her fall asleep; "I love you my angel" Oscar whispered kissing her head. "I wuv you my daddy" she whispered kissing his chest. She had seen her mum do this a few times and Oscar's heart swelled up watching her imitate her mum.

Oscar and Y/N were busy setting up another room in their house when Mia found Oscar's phone unlocked. No one knew how she got onto Instagram but she did and ended up taking a picture of her face and posting it as a story. Within minutes Oscar and Y/N's phones were blowing up. Y/N saw messages from her friends and family to check Oscar's story; Oscar had already seen what his daughter did. The next race was gonna be so fun trying to explain who that was.

The driver's group chat was going crazy, they couldn't stop laughing about how Mia posted herself. The other drivers joked that she was sick of not being able to attend races so she decided to hard launch herself. McLaren's PR team was making a story up which Oscar shut down quickly. He had been dating Y/N for a long time and had a family with her, he wasn't about spin some shitty tale about it being someone else's daughter. This was the final push that Oscar needed to strike the iron when it was hot. Oscar would propose now; the ring he had bought was burning a hole in his pants for a while now.

oscarpiastri

Liked by landonorris, mclaren and 2,367,458 others tagged y/n.y/l/n

oscarpiastri To a lifetime of forever with the loves of my life💍🧑‍🧑‍🧒

landonorris Mia is so cute in all the pictures, I'm stealing her👀👀 oscarpiastri landonorris NO YOU CAN'T HAVE HER😤😤 alexandrasaintmleux next Leo-Mia playdate when??🥹❤️ y/n.y/l/n alexandrasaintmleux Mia says tomorrow❤️❤️ logansargeant my fav Piastri is growing up so fast😭 Liked by the author mclaren such a beautiful family🧡 y/n.y/l/n mclaren I remember you trying to break it up 😐😐 mclaren y/n.y/l/n I was following orders, I didn't wanna do it🥲🥲 user1 too many things, I can't process it🤯 user2 he has a girlfriend, a daughter and got engaged all in one post🤯😭 user3🤯🤯🤯🤯 user4 Congratulations Oscar!!🧡🧡🧡 lewishamilton Congratulations you two!! ❤️❤️Mia said Roscoe is the ring bearer Liked by y/n.y/l/n charles_leclerc my beautiful granddaughter😭 user5 the Leclerc family is expanding at an alarming rate😱😱 user6 user5 does that make Leo her uncle??🤔 user7 What's her name?? user8 Mia is the cutest name for the cutest baby😍😍 user9 can't wait to watch her become a formula one driver😪 user10 only known her 2 days but if anything happens to her, I’ll kill everyone and then myself user11 the last picture🤤🤤 we might be getting baby no. 2🤭🤣

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lilacgaby · 3 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋ🖍️crayons and connections

pairing: prohero!katsuki x nanny!reader

summary: after a harsh relationship he really didn't want another try at romance for a while. at least, not until he hired you. he thought he loved the way you cared for his kids, but you both knew it was something more.

tags: fem!reader, domestic au, use of pet names, no proofread, fluff, cursing, taking care of kids, a millisecond of angst i swear trust me, comfort

(a/n: i couldn't get this au out of my headdd)

wc: ~3k

katsuki was honestly sick of his wife.

she would nag him constantly, asking for his cards and attention without ever asking about him or how he was doing. everything was an argument now, most of their nights would eventually end up with him on the couch.

the only lights of his life were his newborn son and one year old daughter. he had adopted the 'staying for the kids' mindset, but her skipping out on their shared daughter's first birthday was his breaking point.

who knew 'i want a divorce' would be the happiest words he'd ever uttered such far? watching her cry and swear she'd be better feeding the hole of despair that had opened over their three year relationship, that had only really blossomed because she got pregnant.

he had made her sign a prenup, thankfully, so he got to keep the house. with a payment and some paperwork he was left with full custody of his kids in his house, to sleep in his bed for the first time in ages.

well, only because he hired you.

it was only natural that he needed a nanny, i mean he was gone for most of the day patrols. after taking some in for interviews, he eventually landed on you after some hours of questioning.

he was exhausted, some of these hags were terrifying, both in their practices and appearances. he relaxed a bit at the sight of you. you were really pretty.

"hi mr-- um bakugo was it?"

you and no idea who he was? it kind of hurt but would end up working out in his favor.

"yeah, just katsuki's fine."

"oh, okay! i'm [name], uh-- i have a couple years experience for babysitting and i worked as a nanny for some other families too--"

as you rambled about your past experience and why you were good for the job, katsuki's mind went elsewhere. you looked breathtaking just speaking there, he swore your hair was flowing in the wind and that the sun shone brighter around you.

not to mention you were really sweet, he had saw you making small talk to the hags earlier, which meant you really were a saint.

"so uh-- yeah that's all about me... uh, hello?"

"oh! yes? that was all really impressive [name]. so, would you be available from eight in the morning to about ten at night? those are my current patrol hours, and obviously you'd be compensated for this trial."

"yes, that's perfect for me! when can i start?"

"uh.. tomorrow?"

"okay!" you stuck out your hand, a small smile on your lips. "nice to meet you katsuki."

he shook your hand firmly and you bowed before leaving.

the next day you arrived earlier than anticipated, he was suited up in his heroes outfit, relishing in the moments where his kids were still asleep.

he heard a knock at the door and opened it. it was you, a tiny purse behind you. "hi katsuki! woah wait a minute.. are you like a hero?"

he shrugged his arms. "yeah, you know only like top three, nothing big."

he saw your eyes widen. "oh wow! sorry for not recognizing you, i don't really keep up with all that stuff-- but im sure you're really strong!"

he nodded, "hell yeah i am. anyways, come in."

you were greeted by a large family home. you were sure your apartment was the size of the kitchen alone. huge halls and grand staircases filled the space, lavish chandeliers all shaped as explosions hung from the ceiling. not to mention the crazy amount of trophies displayed.

the rocking chairs and baby blankets scattered about were seriously out of place, making you giggle a bit.

when he looked back at you, you immediately slapped your hand over your face. "something funny?"

"no, no it's just-- your house is so nice!"

"thank you? anyways, i'll take you up to their rooms now."

you followed behind him, even his kids had huge rooms. you were super kind of jealous.

he opened the door and waved you over to see a small, adorable baby boy sleeping in a cot. "this is kei, he's only eight months." he whispered. "he fusses a lot, but he loves music."

he closed the door slowly behind, and walked to the room straight across. a tiny toddler laid in a princess bed, the room drowning in all things pink. "this is kioko, she's a handful. she turned two a bit ago." he whispered, closing the door behind him to give you a basic rundown of the schedule.

"so, they normally wake up around eight. there's a lot of formula for kei in the kitchen, and kioko just likes cereal. kioko can and will play all day, but kei gets real sleepy."

you nodded along making mental notes of everything.

"they eat lunch around three, but a snack before then is fine. dinner is at seven and they go to sleep at eight."

"okay, i think i got it."

he nodded. "i think you do too. there's extra keys in the counter by the door. call my assistants if there are any emergencies, i wrote the number on the fridge."

you nodded again, "kay, i got it. you get going though, it's already eight twenty!"

"fuck. okay, i'll see you later."

"bye katsuki."

the door closed behind him and you were alone. you decided to start prepping a bottle. just as you finished, you heard the wails of a baby ring throughout the halls.

you walked up to the cot, speaking softly. "hi kei, i'm [name]." as you picked him up, he gurgled in confusion. "i'll be taking care of you from now on, let's go eat."

you kept him in your arms. he was looking up at you curiously, making you smile as he touched your face. as you walked to his sister's room, where sure enough she was awake too.

"hi kioko, im [name]. i'll be taking care of you, okay?" you said, reaching out a hand for her to shake it.

she grasped your hand. "okay. go eat?"

"yes, let's go eat. follow me, okay?" she followed after you sleepily, her blanket and stuffed animal in her arms as you led her to the kitchen.

you placed her brother in a high chair first, giving him his formula. "can i pick you up?" you asked her.

"up-up!" she said, raising her arms up in the air. you carried and placed her into one too. "so, what do you wanna eat?"

"cookie!" she pointed to an expensive cereal brand you'd never even seen before. "oh, okay."

you placed a bit in a tiny bowl, adding some milk. they ate relatively peacefully, were they really as crazy as katsuki said?

yes, yes they were. kioko was a ball of energy, walking any and everywhere. she wanted to play every single game known to mankind. it didn't help that hide and seek was hard in such a huge house.

kei clung to you. as you searched for her he never wanted to leave your side, he'd start sniffling when you even left his sight.

lunch and dinner were a blur, you made the food katsuki had told you to on the sticky notes he'd left around. you had a bit too, and man did these kids eat good.

kioko finally crashed, tugging on the back of your pants. "sleepy time." you were washing dishes, so you wiped your hand clean to ruffle her hair. "okay, go wait for me in your room."

you finished up, picked up kei from where he was sat by his activity cube, and walked over to kioko's room.

you read her a book, 'the giving tree.' she fell asleep halfway through, utterly tuckered out from the day. kei fell asleep against your chest, you went and laid him down in his cot.

you looked around the house, seeing the mess. you sighed. "let's do this."

the house was sparkling once you were done, a pot of coffee on the stove as you waited for katsuki to get back. you seriously didn't know how you were going to go back your one-bed apartment now that you've seen how the rich live.

the door sounded, it was katsuki. "hi katsuki! how was uh-- patrol?"

he was covered in soot and dirt from head to toe. you internally sobbed at your hours of mopping going to waste. "oh uh, it was good. caught some guys and shit."

"ah, that's cool!"

he looked around. "did my brats cause you any trouble?" he eyed how clean everything was, from the dishes to the floor.

"they're full of energy, but so cute it makes up for it."

he wore a soft smile. "yeah, they really are."

"you know, they both look exactly like you. it's cute."

he flushed slightly, "yeah?"

"mhm, oh! i had leftovers from earlier? if you wanted some."

"yeah, i'll eat them." she smiled and started to grab her things. "so, does this mean i pass?"

he smiled too. "yes,

yes you did."

days melted into months of your routine with kei and kioko. some days katsuki would come home early, letting you play games all together. you'd cook with him sometimes too, laughing at how precise he was about it.

everything got a bit real the second kei spoke his first word to you.

"mama."

you and kioko got so excited, recording a clip to send it to katsuki immediately.

the entire day you were so happy, treating the kids to a secret extra snack, and letting them beat their favorite baby popcorn.

a knock on the door was heard, you were feeding kei so you walked over to the door with him in hand. you thought it was odd, why would katsuki knock?

except it wasn't him, it was some woman. "uh.. who are you?"

"oh, so he thinks he can replace me so quickly? newsflash, bitch, i'm his ex wife."

"can you not curse in front of the kids?"

"i'll do whatever the fuck i want. you know why? because i'm actually connected to those kids. you're just playing mother, he'll dump you eventually."

she slammed the door behind her. "star her mama?" kioko asked behind you.

"yeah, stranger."

you had gotten a bit weird after that, acting weird about affection and things surrounding it. you didn't know why, but she really did make you question your role in their lives.

you weren't a mother, you were a nanny.

katsuki finally got fed up with your new, odd attitude. he questioned you with a look in his eye.

"why you been acting so weird?" he asked, his mouth full with food.

"huh? i don't know what you mean?"

he pointed his chopsticks at you. "you've been acting all weird 'round 'em. you don't like that they call you mom or something?"

"no! it's just.. don't you think it's weird?"

"no. i'm happy that they like you so much."

"you don't think i'm trying to replace their mom?"

"they never really had one in the first place. she was never around, so if she said some shit to you know she wasn't half the person you are."

"oh.."

"so she did come."

"yeah. she did."

"[name]. you are ten times the person she ever was. you're perfect without trying. actually, you do try. and that's why..

that's why we all love you."

you both turned red, which made you laugh. "thank you katsuki."

you reached out and held his hand.

"seriously, thank you."

he put a restraining order on his ex the next day, also going to get flowers for you as it was his day off.

you'd started to sleep over after that, the affection between the two of you growing gradually.

he gifted you a room in the house, fully furnished with about ten thousand dollars left in one of the drawers so 'you could decorate for yourself.'

that room went mostly unused though, as most nights you'd end up cuddled with katsuki in his bed.

the fridge was filled to the brim with photos by kioko, who'd love to draw all four of you as one big family.

katsuki even asked her for a small one, one that he now keeps in the back of his phone case for good luck.

he asked you out officially with kioko's help, her unwanted help that is.

she snuck out after bedtime where he was speaking to you on the couch, you in his arms as he was mustering up his courage--

"pleaseeee have a play date with daddy, pleasee?" she said, using her puppy eyes.

"we all love you a lot, but he loves you this much!" she spread out her arms to make a point, making you laugh.

"okay! okay, i already said yes kioko. go to sleep, okay?"

"yay!" she ran up to her room and you heard the door close.

"so.. about our playdate?"

he took you out to a fancy dinner of your choice, telling you to order whatever you'd like. his mom was babysitting so you two could relax.

he'd learned a lot about you from his kids, your favorite color, the music you liked, the way you like your eggs, but it was different to hear it from you.

he thought you were so gorgeous and kind, so sweet to him and the lights of his life. who was he kidding? over the last year you'd become a pillar of his life.

he enjoyed going home knowing you were there with his kids, you were there to hear about his stresses and support him.

he was happy to support you, to let you stay in his house. to let him pay for things for you, to let him make you smile.

one 'playdate' turned into multiple, you went out every other week.

he knew he had to do something, a grand gesture to show you just how much he loved you, how he wanted to continue building this perfect family of his forever.

he knew how much you treasured the opinions of his kids, he loved that about you.

so, he got them in on it. kioko and kei each held a gift for you, one of your favorite flowers and the other of your favorite perfumes.

you were at a seriously gorgeous park, streams the only noise you could hear for miles. you saw your two favorite kids sitting on the picnic blanket.

"kioko, kei?"

"mommy!" they ran up to you, kei handing you the bouquet of roses, and kioko handing you a vial of perfume.

"aw, thank you you two. where's your dad?"

"hes waiting for you! come come!"

"come!"

they guide you to a secluded area, with a natural arch of overgrown vines, where katsuki is waiting for you.

"katsuki?"

"[name]."

"what's all of this for?"

"you." he took your hands into his, looking deeply into you.

"you're important to me. you've.. you've become the thing i was missing. the thing i searched for in other people.

and, you've become that to the people i care about the most too.

so,"

he got down on one knee infront of you.

"will you marry me?"

the word yes escaped you before you even realized it. you tackled him into a hug, which prompted kei and kioko to join in.

everything was just so sweet from then on.

kioko was the flower girl at your wedding, kei was the ring holder.

your first kiss shared under the altar was magical, the memory of it forever engrained in your memories, and in your lips.

your honeymoon was bittersweet, as you missed your two headaches. but you and katsuki also enjoyed the private time alone with eachother, embracing and finding comfort in eachother's presence.

when you got home though, your picturesque family was about to have a new addition,

you were pregnant.

whilst everyone was debating whether or not you'd have a boy or girl, to everyone's surprise once you and katsuki cut the slice of cake open..

it had both colors.

you we're having twins.

as you looked over at katsuki, a shocked expression on his face, all you could do was laugh.

laugh because you couldn't have ever imagined a life this perfect for you.

but it was a wax-drawn line of fate that led you to katsuki,

and you'd always be thankful for it.

tag: @kovu-bunnbunn

#i love this au isjsjsjdjd #lilac speaks꧂#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katuski #bakugo x you #bakugo fluff #katsuki x you #bakugo drabble #mha x you #bakugo oneshot #katsuki x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugo mha #nanny!reader #prohero!bakugo

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theostrophywife · 4 months ago

Text

brother's bsf! mattheo who you've had a crush on for years.

but he's only ever seen you as theo's little sister (or so he says).

it doesn't matter that you and theo are only a year apart. your older brother is extremely protective of you and so are the rest of his friends — especially mattheo.

you grew up around the boys, which was a blessing and a curse in and of itself. on one hand, you grew super close to mattheo, but on the other hand, he's seen you through your awkward braces and pigtails phase.

lately though, brother's bsf! mattheo starts to notice you. really notice you.

suddenly, you didn't seem so little to him anymore.

but over the years, your infatuation with your brother's best friend calmed to attraction instead. you've come to accept that while mattheo would always be your first crush, that's all it would really ever amount to. a harmless little childhood crush.

thanks to theo, you hadn't gotten much of a chance to date when you were younger, but now that you were starting uni with the rest of the boys, you were determined to push those silly little feelings for mattheo away and start putting yourself out there.

granted, you had a lot to learn given your sheltered upbringing.

boys had taken a liking to you. why wouldn't they? you're pretty, you're smart, and you're the perfect combination of sweet and sassy, but you were also extremely naïve.

brother's bsf! mattheo had to protect you.

it was his responsibility.

theo trusted him to keep an eye on you. so he did.

・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo glares at any boy that dares to look at you.

・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo revs his motorcycle and comes in hot when he sees anyone talking to you, handing you the pink helmet he keeps on him at all times without a single word.

・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo gives you rides to your dorm and takes you out for ice cream after a particularly hard exam.

it's clear that mattheo has a soft spot for you. no matter how vehemently he denies it.

until the night that everything changed.

it was a chilly friday evening when you happily skipped out of your dorm building, eager to attend your first frat party.

the cute boy in your history class asked you to come with him and you immediately said yes despite not knowing what to expect. it seemed fun and exciting and a little bit dangerous.

as luck would have it, you ran into none other than mattheo on your way out. his sleek black motorcycle was parked on the curb, smoke wafting from his lips as he took a lazy drag of his cigarette. leaning against his bike, mattheo raised a brow as you strutted onto the sidewalk.

"where do you think you're going, nott?"

"to a party, matty."

"with who?"

"a friend."

mattheo narrows his eyes at you. "I know all your friends and they're busy tonight. so which friend is it?"

you sigh in frustration. "just a friend from class. god, you sound like theo right now."

"you're not going anywhere wearing that."

"what's wrong with my dress?"

you smoothed down the front of your red minidress self-consciously, shying away from mattheo's intense gaze. his chocolate brown eyes scanned your body, the heat of his stare dragging along your skin.

"for starters, that dress barely covers anything and knowing you, you'll be cold within the first few minutes."

"I'll be fine, mattheo. I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

mattheo crosses his arms, huffing at your statement. "so you told theo where you're headed off to tonight?"

you shrugged. "what my brother doesn't know won't hurt him."

"yes, but he might hurt anyone stupid enough to ogle you in that dress. as will I. maybe I should tell him what his baby sister is up to. better yet, maybe I should come with you to this party, hm?"

"no please," you pleaded. "I just want one night where I'm not being treated like a little kid. can you give me that, matty? please?"

you flashed your best puppy dog eyes at him, knowing that he couldn't possibly resist when you asked so nicely.

mattheo considers it for a moment before sighing in defeat. "fine, princess. but text me when you get there and call me when you're home. don't even think about turning your location off or else I'll send a brigade after you."

"yes sir."

"good girl."

before brother's bsf! mattheo could think better of it, you kiss his cheek and promise to call him later that night.

brother's bsf! mattheo watches you strut away in your tight little dress with a soft smile on his face, fully knowing that you had him wrapped around your finger.

by the time you arrive at the party, it's in full swing. music is blaring, drinks are flowing, and the frat house is packed to the brim with people.

you send a quick text to mattheo to let him know you've arrived before spotting aiden.

clearly, your date was already a few drinks in. he greets you with a lingering hug before handing you a red cup. "cheers, y/n."

"cheers," you respond, clinking your cup against his and taking a generous swig. the liquor burns your throat and aiden chuckles as you try to hide your wincing.

still, it does the job.

you loosen up after a few sips. aiden introduces you to his friends and you smile politely, trying not to squirm out of his hold as he pulls you in by the waist.

it's fine, he's just keeping you close in such a packed crowd. he doesn't mean any harm by it.

at least that's what you told yourself.

until aiden tries to make a move on you in the middle of the dance floor. you already told him that you didn't want to dance, but he insisted.

you could smell the liquor on his breath as he grabbed your hips, moving them along to the rhythm of the song. you tried to put some distance between you, but aiden didn't seem deterred by it. in fact, his wandering hands slide down to your lower back until they're planted firmly on your ass. you attempted to pry them away, but he slurred "relax" into your ear before giving your ass a squeeze.

that was the tipping point for you.

with all your strength, you shoved aiden off while he cursed after you. the lights were blinding as you made your way through the crowd, fleeing to the bathroom.

you had brother's bsf! mattheo's number dialed before you even closed the door.

surprisingly, he picks up on the first ring.

"hi matty, are you — are you busy right now?"

"I'm with the boys. how'd the party go, princess?"

"um, I'm still here and I just really want to go home."

you hear shuffling on the other end. presumably mattheo finding somewhere more private to speak with you. "I thought your friend was your ride home?"

"well, aiden's drunk and he's been getting a little handsy the whole night so I don't really feel safe going home with him."

"what?" mattheo hisses. "you didn't tell me you were with a guy. I never would've let you go off alone with some random prick."

"please don't be mad, matty. I just wanted to have fun without worring about my brother hovering over my shoulder. don't tell theo, please. I'll — I'll figure it out. I'll find another ride."

"like hell you are! drop your location. the boys and I are coming."

"no, please. I don't want this to be a whole thing. if theo finds out, he'll never let me out of his sight again."

you could feel mattheo grappling with the situation. part of him wanted to tell his best mate, but all he truly cared about was getting to you as quickly as he could. after a few moments, he sighs. "fine, I won't tell your brother, but I'm still coming to get you. stay where you are, princess and don't hang up the phone. I'm on my way, okay?"

"you really don't have to —"

the argument dies in your throat when you hear the sound of mattheo's motorcycle starting up. he wasn't going to let you talk him out of this. mattheo was coming, whether you wanted him to or not.

"too late. be a good girl and stay on the line with me, sweetheart. I'm coming for you."

brother's bsf! mattheo pays no mind to the boys as they joke about him meeting up with a booty call.

the only thing that matters to him is getting to you.

brother's bsf! mattheo weaves through campus, revving and racing his motorcycle as fast as it can possibly go.

it's too noisy to talk while he rides, but he stays on the line anyways, listening through one earphone as you quietly hum to help calm yourself. mattheo smiles to himself. it's one of his favorite quirk of yours. half of the time, you don't even notice you're doing it. but he does. he notices everything about you.

mere minutes have passed since you first called him, but it feels like an eternity to mattheo when he finally pulls up to the decrepit frat house at the edge of campus.

mattheo parks his motorcycle on the curb, glaring at the prying eyes trained on him. it's not every day that the mattheo riddle, resident bad boy pulls up to a party looking like he's absolutely ready to kill someone with his bare hands.

he has half a mind to burst into the bloody house and pummel that stupid prick for daring to touch you, but the sight of you approaching stops him cold.

you look flustered and fearful, lower lip trembling as you spill out into the sidewalk. mattheo instantly sees red. he vows to make that motherfucker pay for this.

"where is he?"

"mattheo —"

"where. the. fuck. is. he?"

"probably somewhere inside drunk off his arse. I don't know and I don't care. can we please just go?"

despite his anger, you don't balk from him. in fact, you've got both hands pressed firmly against his chest to hold him back.

brother's bsf! mattheo grips your hips, your noses pressing together as he carefully inspects you. making sure you were alright is the only thing keeping him from committing violence.

"tell me where he is."

though mattheo's words are tinged with fury, his tone remains soft and sweet. his voice is nothing but a whisper because even at his angriest, mattheo would never raise his voice at you.

“give me a name, sweetheart. just give me his name."

"it's fine, matty. he's not worth the trouble."

“he left you alone, at a party where you don’t know anyone, got too drunk even though he knows he’s your ride home and got handsy with you even though you weren’t into it. give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fuck him up right now?”

“I can handle him later. can we please just go home? I'm tired and I just want to be in bed now.”

the cold air makes you shiver as you mentally curse yourself for picking such a skimpy outfit when hours ago you felt foolishly confident in your dress.

brother's bsf! mattheo softens when he sees you trembling. without a word, he takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. the scent of amber and cinnamon envelopes you all at once, lulling you into a calmer state.

"okay, princess. let me take you home."

once mattheo secures the baby pink helmet over your head, he tells you to hang on tight before taking off.

you hug his midsection, resting your chin on his shoulder as mattheo drives slow through the sprawling campus. the streets are empty, but he drags out the ride, wanting to spend as much time with you as possible.

at the strike of midnight, the two of you finally reach your dorm.

although you insist that you're fine, brother's bsf! mattheo walks you all the way up to your door.

the fluorescent lights flicker overhead as you shift your weight form one foot to the other, suddenly feeling shy.

"thanks for picking me up, matty."

"of course, y/n. you know I'd do anything if you're the one asking."

you smile, trying your hardest to hide the blush on your cheeks. "I hope I didn't ruin your night."

mattheo shrugs. "not at all. before you called, I was watching berkshire stuff marshmallows down his throat while the boys cheered him on. trust me, you weren't interrupting anything important."

"still. I appreciate you coming to my rescue and not ratting me out to my brother."

mattheo smiles. "it's our little secret, princess."

the double meaning of the words causes tension between you and the pull that you've always felt towards mattheo feels stronger than ever, tugging you closer.

maybe tonight is the night that you finally feel brave enough to fall.

"goodnight, matty."

brother's bsf! mattheo watches as you get on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek like you always do. except this time, you lean in for a proper kiss.

as soon as mattheo's lips touch yours, you feel your entire body erupt like fireworks. it's everything you imagined it to be and more. his lips are soft against yours, supple and inviting. the kiss takes him by surprise, but once he realizes what's happening, he groans into your mouth, the sound of it filled with need.

dazed and confused, you look up as mattheo pulls away, his big brown eyes scanning your face. "we shouldn't do this, princess."

despite his words, mattheo's hand rests itself on your hip, his thumb brushing gentle circles against your exposed skin. you gulp as he stares at you, your lips brushing, your bodies gravitating towards each other no matter how hard you try to fight the pull.

"is it because of my brother?"

"no," mattheo growls. "we shouldn't do this because I don't know if I'll be able to stop once we start."

"I don't want you to stop, mattheo."

as soon as the words leave your lips, mattheo is kissing you again, and this time, he isn't holding back. you cling onto his shirt as he kisses you hard, the force of it hitting you all at once. his fingers dig into your hips as you bend at the waist, desperately kissing back.

his head is reeling and his heart is pounding. mattheo is drowning in your taste, your touch, your smell. you're every drug rolled into one; seductive and sinful. he's addicted and he can't get enough.

brother's bsf! mattheo doesn't want to pull away. he wants to stay here and live in this moment forever, but he knows that if he does, he'll end up taking everything.

foreheads pressed together, mattheo leans in for one last kiss. this one is sweet and gentle, enough to satiate him for the moment.

"sleep tight, princess. I'll see you in the morning."

"see you in the morning, matty."

brother's bsf! mattheo can't help but take one last look at you, a soft smile on his face when he sees your flushed cheeks and kiss bitten lips.

in that moment, he knows he's fucked. you're his best mate's little sister. he shouldn't have kissed you. he shouldn't feel this way for you. he should've stopped before it was too late, but you were both way past that now.

now that he's had you, he won't want anything else. it's you he'll always crave. it's you he'll always long for. and he doesn't give a fuck what it takes to get you.

brother's bsf! mattheo won't stop until you're his and his alone. *✧･ﾟ:*

#mattheo on a motorcycle might actually put me in a coma #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagine

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rae-writes · 11 months ago

Note

Firstly, big fan of your poly mc x obey me brothers stuff. Secondly, I'm a bit curious about the dynamics between the brothers and mc (cough three-ways cough). Obviously Beel and Belphie wouldn't mind working together, but do you have any headcanons regarding the other brothers sharing?

threesome parings lets gooo! // nsfw, poly!mc (duh) // dateables and sides next maybe?? ;)

Obvious parings

Beel + Belphie; this one is the most obvious, but it works so well (Belphie likes to say they're the best tag-team). It can leave you reeling because you don't always know what's going on when they communicate with just their eyes. The favorite positions in this team are probably: you sitting on one's face while sucking the other off; riding one while the other fucks you from behind; spooning with one in front of you and one behind you

"Such a fuck-ing slut for us, huh? Our pretty little slut."

"o-oh..yeah, move your hips like that again, please..g'na c-cum-!"

"Please go faster, Mc..uh-huh, like that..a-ah! Yesyesyes, cumming! 'm cumming, oh fuck!"

"Your mouth is always so good...here, do Belphie next. Wanna prep you with my tongue."

"Mmm...slow down over there, Beel. We said we'd go slow...'s still early..'m tired." "Sorry, Belphie, but they feel so good..just listen to them. They need us." "..fine...we're going back to sleep after, though."

Lucifer + Satan; yes. These two. Their synchronized energy is almost on par with the twins (even if it's like a subtle competition the whole time) and they do everything so smoothly and seductively it makes you hot and bothered at a rate that should be illegal. The favorite positions for this team are probably: bent over something, one pounding you from the back while you suck off the other; being held up while they fuck you standing, one in front and one behind

"Come on, you can suck my cock better than that. Don't tell me he's made you dumb already?"

"No, no, no, moan my name. Yeah, that's it baby, let me hear you. Louder."

"I'm cumming- don't fucking move. I don't care if he's close, I'm filling you up first."

"You look so pretty, Mc...so. fucking. gorgeous. Doing so good for us, always do so good."

"Hold it. Yes, you can, and you will." "Don't be so mean to them, Lucifer. I think they've well earned the right to cum, don't you? I wanna feel it. Let them cum." "No. If you keep mouthing off, I'll take them away and you can finish yourself off. They hold it until I say so."

Mammon + Asmo; PARTY DUO! They're so wild and filthy and it's so fun to have both at the same time. Tag teaming you is one of the times they can bounce their energies off each other without arguments. The favorite positions of this team (though they're down to try any positions) are probably: riding one while the other fucks you from behind; train style- fucking one [w/strap or dick] while the other fucks you; both squeezing themselves between your legs to give you oral

"Harder! Yeah, yeah, yeah- like that! Come on, Mammon, fuck them faster, I need them to give me more!"

"Ahh, fuck...you're so fuckin' good t'me, baby. Look so good, you're so damn perfect- look at me, look at me, baby...fuuuckkk.."

"Come on, hon! Spread those legs a biiit wider...don't be shy~ show us your pretty self..gotta give us room to work our magic!♡"

"Rock them hips over me, baby, yeahh..make me feel so fucking good. Takin both of us so well."

"Ooh, turn them around this way!" "No way! They faced you the last time, I wanna look at them this time." "That's so not fair- oh! Aw, just listen to that little whine...you need us that badly, Mc?" "Course they do, you kept us waitin so damn long. Don't worry, baby, we gotcha."

Not-so-common pairings

Asmo + Belphie; little odd pairing here, but Asmo cancels out Belphie's sloth (and even gets him riled up in a way only Azzy can) so once you experience it, it's like the shock of temperature play. The favorite positions of this team are probably: riding Belphie while Azzy fucks you from behind; sitting on Bel's face while sucking Asmo off; getting fucked by one, head hanging off the side of the bed, while the other fucks your throat

"I knew I made the right idea picking this set out for you! You look absolutely gorgeous, Mc! Put on a little show for us?"

"Mmmnn...move faster..yeah, come on..ugh- please? Please, for me...y-yeah! Like that.."

"The way you move your tongue like that has me spinning, darling! A-ah..ah, ah-! I'm gonna cum!"

"No, no, no, look at me. At me, Mc, not at Asmo. I wanna see your face when you cum on my cock- take that pretty mouth of yours off his dick and scream my name."

"Come on, Belphie! You gotta get motivated! Just look at them, laying there so pretty for us!" "I can make them feel good without acting like you, you know." "Not unless you want me to steal them away~ Ooh, there's that competitive look in your eye!"

Lucifer + Levi; not necessarily an ‘odd’ pair, but definitely one we don’t see often. With the elder commanding the room and the younger so willing to follow along, it makes for a smooth combination (and an easy dynamic to settle into). The favorite positions for this team are probably: sucking off one while the other fucks you from behind; bending Levi over and fucking him while Luci bends you over the other and fucks you from behind; sitting on Levi’s face while sucking Lucifer off

"Ah, ah, ah. If I can hear you forming words, it means you're not sucking his cock properly. Doesn't Levi deserve some pleasure, too, hm? Go on, choke on it."

""Nghh! You f-fuck me s'good! Hnn...h-huh? Y-yes...yes, y'r fucking me dumb already- 'm your good boy t-though, please keep going!"

"So willing and obedient...you don't know what you really even do to me, do you?"

"Mmph...love the way you taste..ride my tongue faster."

"You can fuck them harder can't you? If their mouth isn't being forced onto my cock, it means you're slacking again." "S-s-sorry...they just- ah!- f-feel so good...my legs are..are already shaking." "Already? Well, if you aren't going to do it properly, let's just switch positions."

Mammon + Beel; again, not ‘odd’, but more so an overlooked- giving based- combo. They’re pretty much all about you, so it can be a bit overwhelming sometimes (but in the best way). The favorite positions for this team are probably: sitting on one’s face and giving head to the other; laying on your sides, each fucking you from the front and back; riding one while the other feels you up and plays with you

"Aw, why're ya cryin', baby? Yeah? Feels good? Sweet little thing...how bout we make ya feel even better?"

"No, no- don't run away, Mc..not done yet..you can take us both at the same time, know you can."

"Y'look s'good ridin' him like that. Can't wait for my turn, fuck, do you feel what you do to me? C'mon, baby, feel it...s'all for you."

"Make him cum again..I don't wanna stop tasting you yet."

"Beel! C'mon! I wanna taste 'em too! Stop hogging!" "But their taste.." "I know- but look at 'em. They're dying to taste you, too. So give me a turn, yeah? Let 'em get their fill." "Okay...just for you, Mc.."

Levi + Belphie; this one…is interesting. It’s easy to run things because of their natures, but this is the unofficial ‘drastic switch’ team— you never really know what you’re getting with them. The favorite positions for them are probably: giving both a handjob while they pleasure you; riding one and making out with the other; getting fucked from behind and fucking the other

"D-don't stop- hnn..! O-oh, u-uh-huh, make me cum again, don't care if 'm sensitive, wanna cum again for you!"

"Noo! Come back...mmph..mm...don't stop kissing me. Don't care- I'll move your hips for you, don't worry about Levi, just focus on me."

"You look so. fucking. good. bent over for me. Shh, don't listen to Belphie's bitching, he's getting fucked every time I slam my cock into you, so focus on me."

"Pull my hair. Yeah, like that- mm! Let me fuck you harder..please? He won't care, he can take it, I need to fuck you harder, Mc, please!"

"Quit hogging them! It's not fair!" "Is that all you ever say? It's not my fault you don't ask them to give you what you need. I do. So I'm going first." "H-hmph! Mc, Belphie's being mea- oh..oh your hand feels good..yeah stroke me like t-that.."

Other good mentions

Lucifer + Mammon; these two can communicate with just their eyes as well as the twins can, okay, they absolutely have your head spinning— and usually, the eldest is in charge of the whole thing but sometimes his favoritism shows and he lets Mammon take over. The favorite positions in this team are probably: each fucking you standing, from front and back; sucking one off while the other guides the pace; rough makeout session to see who gets to be in charge (and sometimes it’s you)

"It's been awhile, hasn't it, Mc? I can tell by the way you're already drooling for us...all dumb and pretty. All ours."

"Doin' such a good job, baby...uh-huh, bob your head a liiittle faster, like..this. Use your tongue too...hear the way he's moanin' for ya?"

"Don't make fun of me...is it so wrong that I want to feel your touch, too? I love the rake of your nails across my skin..indulge me, won't you?"

"I don't even care if 'm not in charge this time- just don't stop kissing me..haven't felt your lips on mine all day, please, fuck, don't ever stop kissing me."

"Well? What are you going to do now that you're in control this time, Mammon?" "Heh..overstimulate him, Mc. 'n don't stop until he's shooting blanks." "...what? Mc, don't you d-ah! Gr..damnit...fuck, it feels good.."

Mammon + Levi; they might act like it’s a big competition sometimes, but all they really care about is making you feel good, and when their energies are in sync, it’s crazy. The favorite positions of this team are probably: riding one while the other fucks you from behind; getting fucked while fucking the other, spreading your legs wide open so they can both give you oral

"Don't be such a fuckin' sore loser, Levi. Just put your mouth on 'em and shut up..we don't getta talk till their legs are shakin."

"C-can't handle when you s-stare at me like that..m-makes me feel all hot a-and bothered..especially w-when he keeps fucking you e-even closer."

"Can take it- promise I can take it! Don't stop fucking me, need it s'bad!"

"Hah! Look at him! He's practcially in tears from just one orgasm..h-huh? W-w-what are you doing- no, d-don't! You're..going too fast..a-ahhh..c-cumming! N-no..'m not crying..'m not!"

"What'd you say?!" "You heard me! You're not that dumb, are you?" "You little- Mc? Oh, no, we're sorry baby...no, no, we didn't mean to forget you, we'll make it up. Here..put that tail of yours to good use, Levi." "Yeah..okay..we're sorry, Mc. That feel good?"

Satan + Asmo; this pairing can be so softly sweet and so passionately intense, it should come with a whiplash warning (but are you really complaining?). The favorite positions for this pair are probably: laying down while one fucks you from each side, getting fucked while making out with the other, mutual masturbation and getting edged while edging them

"Ah, ah, ah...not yet, love, don't cum yet. It'll feel better if we wait, yeah? Hold it for me...just a little longer."

"You look so sexy, all disheveled like this! Gets me all hot and bothered every time! Hehe! ♡"

"Arch your back for me- just like that. Makes it go even deeper, doesn't it? Just. like. this. Ohh, fuck, make that sound for me again- 'm gonna cum."

"Stroke me faster, baby, please! Uh-huh, uh-huh...mm! Cumming! Yes, yes, yes!"

"Calm down, Asmo. Mc's had a tiring day..let's take it slow and make them feel better, hm?" "Ooh, you're absolutely right! We'll take care of you, hon, you won't even have to lift a finger!" "Relax, love...we've got you."

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soaps-mohawk · 11 months ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful

Summary: You have a long weekend that ends rather unexpectedly. Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, some brief violence at the end.

A/N: I'm in a bit of a crisis so you're getting a bonus chapter this week. It's a beefy one and I wrote like 90% of it yesterday, just had the brain sludge by the time I was close to finishing and decided to rest before I finished and edited. Things are starting to get a big suggestive here, so as a reminder, this fic will have NSFW content in later chapters so please do not interact with it if you are under 18. I'd hate to have to block you.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“How are you settling in?”

“Fine.” You shrug.

“Any instinct to nest at all?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“That’s fine.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down. “It’s only been just over a week. Have you started kneeling for Captain Price yet?”

You shake your head again. “No.”

Dr. Keller tilts her head. “Why not?”

You shrug again. “He hasn’t brought it up.”

“Is that something you’d like to start doing?”

Her question catches you off guard again. You’re not used to being asked what you want, afterall you’re an omega. That’s not important. You’re here to serve. To do as you’re told. You remember watching your mother kneel for your father while he watched TV, her dazed, glazed over eyes staring at nothing as he almost seemed to hypnotize her into the shell of a perfect omega. It was your first taste of truly how much power alphas could hold over omegas. One hand on the back of your neck and it’s over.

“I...I don’t know.” You say, picking at your sleeve.

“You’re allowed to want things too.” Dr. Keller leans forward just slightly, giving you a smile. “I highly doubt Captain Price will make much of a fuss if you ask for something you need. He cares about you. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here alone.” She tilts her head at you, watching you pick at your sleeve. “Is there anything you want or maybe need that you haven’t asked for?”

Softer blankets. A fluffier pillow. Different body wash and shampoo. New clothes. A picture or a poster or something to make your room seem less clinical. Your instincts to finally start kicking in. Price to want you as much as he’s supposed to. Ghost to like you. To go back in time and let Soap kiss you.

To go back in time and never present as an omega.

“No.” You finally answer, shaking your head. “I’m fine.”

Dr. Keller stares at you for a long moment. You avoid her gaze, picking at the seam of your sleeve. “I know you’re going to get tired of me saying this, but it’s important that you understand that this is a safe space for you. Everything that we discuss, everything that you say in here stays between you and me. Doctor-patient confidentiality is something I firmly believe in, even when it comes to alpha/omega relationships. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” You say quietly, still avoiding her gaze.

She continues to stare at you for a moment before she leans back on the couch again, shuffling some papers around. “The two betas, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish. How are you getting along with them?” She continues with her questions.

“Fine.” You lean back in your chair, hoping it might swallow you whole. “They’re easiest to get along with.”

Dr. Keller nods. “Good. I’m a strong advocate for organic pack bonding. Helps avoid any dynamic struggles or false instincts down the line. How are you sleeping?”

“Fine I guess.” You shrug. “I nap a lot.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Omegas need a lot of sleep and I can imagine adjusting to a new schedule has been rough.” Dr. Keller moves the papers to the couch next to her, looking up at you. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

You hesitate, pulling at the seam of your sleeve. It’s beginning to unravel a bit from your nervous picking. You’ll have to fix it. Dr. Keller is right, though. You could just ask for a new one. Price had told you they had a budget for your needs, plus they do get paid well. Anything you needed, they would gladly get for you.

You just have to ask.

It’s the asking that you’re not sure you can do. It feels strange to ask anything of your new pack. They’re supposed to be the ones needing things from you. If Soap had wanted to kiss you, he could have. Instead he left it up to you. He let you decide. You wonder if Price’s hesitation to move forward has been because he’s waiting on you.

They’re all waiting on you, except maybe Ghost. They’re waiting on you to make the first moves, on you to set the pieces on the board. What is the first move? How do you set the pieces? Did you even need to? Would they fall into place organically if you just left them alone? Or would the tension continue to build up, would you continue to affect them until it became too much and the pressure causes everything to blow?

“I’m affecting them.” You say, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Dr. Keller tilts her head as she stares at you. “What do you mean?”

“They’re soldiers. They’re good soldiers with years and years of training, that’s why they're here. But...but I’m changing that. I asked Price if I could go with them and watch them run a training course cause I read in a book that I should get to know them and the things they like and so I was just curious what they do during the day when I’m not with them. He let me watch and he told me their top speeds running the training course but...none of them met those times with me there.”

You take a deep breath, the words pouring out of you easily now. You feel as if you’re not even thinking of them, not even measuring them or using caution as you normally would in any conversation. They’re slipping out from somewhere deep inside and now that you’ve opened that dam, you can’t stop it.

“Price made them run through it five times and they still couldn’t match their top speeds. He said it was a good thing that they figured that out, that they need to know how I’m affecting them and how to adjust to me. And every time they ran through it, I couldn’t stop thinking about...”

You take another breath, the air catching in your lungs. Your fingers are shaking, your body sinking deeper and deeper into the chair, almost as if you’re trying to get it to swallow you whole. As if the chair might wrap its arms around you and pull you into its softness and keep you there until you can’t breathe and it suffocates you.

“What if it was me? What if they were having to rescue me? I know that’s a risk, a low one, but it’s still a risk. The CIA and Kate warned me that I could become a target if the wrong person found out about me. That’s why I can’t know anything about what they do because that puts me at more of a risk, and I could be a threat to them and the entire world if something got out that wasn’t supposed to.”

You’re breathing heavily as the words finally come to a stop. Dr. Keller’s eyes are shining with sympathy as she stares at you. This is the most you’ve ever opened up to her, the most words you feel you’ve ever spoken to her in the two times now that you’ve met.

It feels good. It feels really good to voice your thoughts and your fears to someone on the outside, someone you can trust won’t tell anyone. You couldn’t voice these fears to your pack. They’re used to this kind of thing. They live with the knowledge they could die at any point, that any mission might be their last. How many lives have they seen lost, how many close calls have they had? You’ve seen scars already on arms, hands, faces. How many others are hidden where you can’t see?

How many scars do they have inside, too?

“I want you to know that your fears are very valid.” Dr. Keller says, her voice soft. “Being involved in the military comes with a lot of risks, and then you get to places like this and those risks only get greater and greater. I can’t promise you that something like that won’t ever happen, because we have no way of knowing. The risk is not zero for a reason.”

Dr. Keller stands from the couch, moving to the chair next to you. The calming beta scent washes over you, and you know you have to be stinking up the room. She turns the chair slightly to face you, leaning forward onto her knees. You can see the imprints on the sides of her nose from where she’d been wearing glasses earlier.

“That risk is also only low for a reason. Your identity has been well hidden, just like those of your pack’s. You’re on a well protected and secure military base. This place is a black square on Google Maps. I know, I tried looking it up when I found out where I was being assigned.” She reaches out, squeezing your arm gently. “And I highly doubt your pack would ever let anything happen to you. Packs are highly protective over their omegas. Even bad alphas can’t fight that instinct when their pack is threatened. Your pack would quite literally go to war for you.”

She is right, you know she is. Yet that fear continues to wiggle at the back of your mind. You know they’d never let anything happen to you, but they’re going to start leaving soon. What if something happens while they’re not here? Who will help you then? The other soldiers? The betas that stare and the alphas that catcall you?

“I guess you’re right.” You say, continuing to pick at your sleeve. At this rate, by the time your heat starts, you’ll have unraveled the whole sweatshirt.

The buzz of your phone on your nightstand pulls you from your half asleep state. Your book is on the floor, having dropped from your hands and slid off your bed as you drifted off. Your lamp is still on, casting a warm glow around your room. You prefer the softer light compared to the fluorescent overhead, as most omegas do. There’s something too clinical and sterile about fluorescents.

You grab your phone, pushing yourself up onto your elbow as you try to blink the sleepiness away. It’s not terribly late, but you’ve been feeling the exhaustion all day since your conversation with Dr. Keller.

“Be ready by 0500 tomorrow. Wear something meant for the outdoors.”

It’s a text from Price, your brow furrowing as you read it over. Five in the morning on a Saturday? That’s the earliest you’ve had to get up since your arrival on base. And wear something meant for the outdoors? You can only imagine what he has planned for the day you had been planning on spending sleeping.

You make a quiet noise of indignation as you text back in confirmation, setting an alarm so you can be ready by 5 am. Not up by 5 am, ready by 5 am. You have half a mind to call him, or to text back asking why he feels you need to be up before the sun. You know that’s the normal time they begin their mornings during the week, usually when you hear them up and moving around, getting ready to go work out. That’s usually when you roll over and go back to sleep for another hour and a half before your own alarm gets you up for breakfast.

You pout a little as you set your phone back on your nightstand, reaching down to grab your book and set it next to your phone. You lay back down on your bed, turning off your lamp and bathing the room in darkness. Well, it’s not totally dark. The light from the lamp outside shines in your window, casting cold shadows across the walls and floor. You’ve never been a fan of total darkness. You’d grown used to having some light in the room at The Institute. One of your roommates had insisted on having a nightlight, and there were many nights you were grateful for it as you laid awake at the mercy of your racing mind.

A nightlight.

You add it to the mental list of things you want, but you’ll never feel brave enough to ask for.

Your alarm rings too early in the morning, your hand lifting to silence it quickly. 4:30 am doesn’t feel like a real time as you rise in darkness, hand fumbling for the switch to your lamp. You glare into the dimly lit room, trying to blink the sleepiness from your eyes. How desperately you want to curl back up under the blankets and sleep until someone knocks on the door to check on you because you’ve slept so long into the day.

You don’t doubt Price will knock in about 30 minutes to get you up. He’ll be disappointed if you ignore him, you think. He wouldn’t punish you if you went against his wishes, would he?

You don’t know that.

You haven’t even thought to push that boundary, nor have you discussed it. You don’t want to. You’re a good omega.

You’re a good omega.

You repeat it over and over as you get yourself ready, splashing cold water on your face to wake yourself up. You silently thank Kate as you pull on a pair of cargo pants and hiking boots, assuming that’s what Price means by “something meant for the outdoors.” Had she bought the items in anticipation of something like this happening? You are on a military base. You should have expected you’d be pulled into something like this eventually.

You’re debating on a jacket by the time the knock comes, right at 5 am. You wonder how long Price has been standing in the hallway, or if he’s perfected arriving right on the dot after years of expected punctuality. You decide on the jacket after checking the weather, slipping it on as you open the door. He hadn’t mentioned needing anything, not that you own any sort of supplies for the outdoors anyway.

He doesn’t say anything as you open the door, instead motioning with his head to follow. You quietly close your door, expecting the others to be waiting for you, but their doors are all closed and they’re nowhere to be seen. You feel slightly nervous as you follow Price out into the cold morning air, glad you decided on the jacket as your breath steams from your lips.

Price is dressed in his usual boots and cargo pants with a cargo jacket and a beanie instead of a bucket hat. There’s two packs leaning against the side of the building, Price grabbing one and approaching you.

“What are we doing?” You ask quietly as he helps you put on the backpack, buckling it across your chest.

“Going for a hike.” He says, putting on the other backpack.

“Why?” You ask as he turns on a flashlight, handing it to you before turning on another one for himself.

“I’ll explain when we get there.” He says simply, motioning for you to follow him.

You hesitate for half a moment. A hike in the dark? The base is surrounded by forest, but you sometimes forget due to the sprawling nature of the buildings, and your usual ventures outside the barracks being to either the mess or the medical center, all of which were central on the base.

Why does he feel the need to hike in the dark? Surely it’s more dangerous, especially for someone not quite so physically inclined like you. If he wanted to go on a hike, why hadn’t he just said that to begin with? Maybe he would have, had you asked why last night instead of just immediately agreeing.

Going into the woods alone in the dark with an alpha you barely know.

Anxiety twists in your stomach for a moment before you force your feet forward, walking fast to catch up to him. He leads you down one of the roads on base, your boots crunching as the ground changes from asphalt to gravel. Your anxiety doesn’t lessen any as the trees loom high above you in the darkness, the forest like a black void before you.

Your brain thinks up all the land predators that might exist in England. Do they have bears? You’ve seen Brave, but that’s in Scotland. What about big cats like cougars or mountain lions? Are there racoons in England?

You’re on a military base, you think. Surely they have means to keep out large predators that might be dangerous.

Your pack won’t let anything happen to you.

Dr. Keller’s words float through your mind as you follow Price through the underbrush and into the trees. You’re not following any path, at least that you can see, though your experiences in the outdoors have been very limited since you left home. Your dad liked to camp and hike, and often you and your siblings were subjected to his weekend and holiday trips into the wilderness.

You missed them in the early days at the Institute. You missed a lot of things back then.

“What’s eating you back there?” Price asks as you weave through trees and underbrush.

“There’s nothing...dangerous out here...is there, sir?” You ask, narrowly avoiding taking a branch to the face. “Bears or mountain lions?”

Price chuckles. “The worst thing you might find is a stray badger or a snake that got through the fence somehow.”

“Oh.” You say, shining the flashlight around you. “That’s good.”

Price stops, turning to face you. “You’re fretting.”

“Well, we’re in the woods in the dark at an ungodly hour and you won’t tell me why, sir.” You pout.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, staring down at you with a hard look in his eyes.

You stare up at him, your grip tightening on the flashlight in your hand. “Should I trust you?”

He straightens up a bit, the corner of his lips twitching. “That’s something you have to decide.” He turns back around, starting to walk again. “All I can do is my best to try and prove myself to you. In the end, you’re the one that decides if I’m trustworthy or not.”

You’ve never thought of it that way. He could do everything in his power to get you to trust him, but in the end it is your decision. He hasn’t proven you wrong yet, but then again...it’s only been a week. You’ve known him for a week and you’re following him through the woods alone in the dark.

Your brothers would have a fit if they saw you right now.

“Do you trust me?” You find yourself asking as you continue to trek through the woods, narrowly avoiding hurting yourself on various occasions.

“You haven’t given me reason not to.” He answers, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. “I’d prefer it stayed that way.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, sir. I hardly think I’m much of a threat on any term. Well, at least I don’t think I am. Ghost seems to disagree.”

Price lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head. “Simon...Simon is a unique case. He’s good at his job, but that makes it hard for him to succeed in other areas. I’m sure Johnny has told you how much Simon couldn’t stand him at first. Now look at them.” He chuckles warmly, almost fondly. “He only sees you as a threat in your nature.”

You frown, glancing up at the sky. It’s beginning to turn grey with dusk, the trees seeming to come alive around you in the dim light. “What do you mean by that, sir?”

“You’re an omega. To bond with an omega, there is a degree of vulnerability required by the alpha. Being around omegas requires an openness that can be frightening if you’re not used to it.” He explains. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Simon isn’t the most open man.”

You snort quietly. “Hadn’t noticed, sir.”

Price chuckles at your answer. “You’re threatening to him, because you’re a challenge. Give him time. This entire situation is an adjustment for all of us, just as I’m sure it is for you too.”

You don’t know how to respond to that statement. It is an adjustment. Joining any pack was, but a pack like this...a pack that has you tramping through the woods at 6 am for a reason you don’t even know yet is a major adjustment.

Price stops after the sun has come up, taking a moment next to an outcropping of rocks. He clips your flashlight to your bag before unzipping it, passing you a bottle of water. You take it gladly, your mouth feeling dry after walking for so long.

“How much further?” You ask as he drinks his own water.

“Quite a ways.” He answers.

“Can I know why we’re doing this yet?” You ask as he zips your water back into your backpack.

“Not yet.” He says, continuing onward.

You let out an exasperated sigh, but follow him anyway. You don’t have much of a choice.

Your legs are beginning to get tired, and you’re starting to feel a bit hungry. You’re not sure if you should say anything, or if he’d even stop. You assume he’s packed food, or at least you hope so. You’re going to get grumpy if you’re traversing all over the forest for hours with nothing to eat.

Price slows his pace a bit as you approach what you think is a clearing. You can see a break in the trees ahead, the sun coming through brighter here. You’re sore and tired, your phone telling you you’ve been walking for just over two hours.

How big is this base?

You break through the treeline, finding a small clearing with what looks like a fire watch tower in the middle of it. It’s not what you were expecting, the many scenarios of why you had been dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour and forced to hike through the woods you’ve been thinking up the last two hours, did not end quite like this. You stare up at the tower, your head tilting back to take it in.

“Not scared of heights, are you?” Price asks, standing beside you.

“Maybe.” You answer, eyeing the staircase winding around it to get to the top.

“Come on.” He says, nudging you forward gently. “Up the stairs.”

The last thing you want to do after walking for two hours is climb a never ending staircase, but you don’t think you have much of a choice. Perhaps you can finally sit once you get to the top, and maybe you’ll even get to eat.

Price follows behind you as you take the steps, climbing slowly. Your legs are screaming, your feet aching in your boots. You wouldn’t be surprised if they’re bleeding a little, or if you wind up with blisters. You’re breathing heavily by the time you get to the top, sweat beading on your brow. Price doesn’t even seem winded behind you, and you’re sure he could have jogged up the steps if he wanted to.

The top of the tower is mostly empty except for a small table and two chairs. There’s no windows, the tower open between the railing and the roof. Price sets his bag on the table, unzipping it. You sink into one of the chairs, letting your bag drop to the floor.

“Can I know why we’re here now?” You ask him.

“Drink some water and take a breath first.” He says, pulling a couple packets out of his bag. MRE’s.

You dig your bottle out of your bag, taking note of the other contents inside. A few snack bars, a couple MRE’s of your own, another unopened bottle of water, and a book. There’s things in the other pockets but you don’t bother looking, guzzling down more water.

You stand from your chair, your legs almost buckling in protest as Price gets the MRE’s cooking. You lean against the railing, looking down over the forest that stretches out as far as you can see below.

“Can I know now?” You ask, knowing there has to be a good reason for him to bring you out here.

“A training exercise.” He says finally.

“A training exercise?” You frown, turning to look at him over your shoulder. It wasn’t a training exercise for you, was it?

“Sometimes when we get a specific target on a mission, the only thing we have to go off of is a general location and a scent.” He explains. “We have to be able to track that scent effectively, sometimes for miles. We run training exercises out here to test their ability to track scents to hunt down a target.”

You stare at the sprawling woods, beginning to understand. “So, they’re hunting a scent that will lead them here?”

Price chuckles lowly, his hands coming to rest on the railing on either side of you. Your stomach flutters as he leans in close, his scent strong in your nose as his breath fans your ear. “Technically, they’re hunting you.”

Your knuckles go white as they grip the railing, your blood pulsing in your veins. You’re well aware that some alphas like to hunt their omegas. There’s some primal urge deep within your brains to chase and be chased. You’re well aware of how it usually ends, the thought making your stomach clench.

“You gave me the idea.” Price says, the warmth of his body radiating through your jacket. “When you asked to watch them train, I saw how you affected them, I thought...maybe you can be useful for their training afterall.”

“Do they...do they know it’s me?” You ask as he steps back from you. You fight the urge to whine at the loss of proximity.

“They do now.” He says with a smirk. “They’ve already started, so if they can follow your scent successfully, then they’ll be here in about an hour.” He says, looking at his watch.

You frown a little. “But...we walked for two hours.”

He smiles a little, pointing to a break in the trees below you hadn’t noticed until now. “That trailhead is a 20 minute hike back to base.”

Your frown deepens. “But-”

“We weren’t walking in a straight line.” He explains. “We doubled back and recrossed the trail several times to try and confuse them, just as someone running from them would do.” He passes you one of the MRE’s. “That’s what I want you to do, if it ever comes to it. You don’t fight unless you have no other choice. You always try to run first.”

“Yes, sir.” You say, sitting down again. You don’t think you’d do much damage fighting anyway, but you don’t tell him that.

You open the package, peeking at the contents. Some sort of potato hash, you think, but you don’t really care. You’re so hungry you’ll gladly eat the mystery re-hydrated food. Price sinks into the other chair with a quiet sigh, digging into the food. It’s quiet out in the woods, the only other sound besides the two of you the sounds of birds.

You’ve always loved the woods, the quiet serenity of such isolation. You could imagine Price living in a log cabin miles from civilization, with animals and his own garden, happily living in quiet peace away from the stresses of life and war. You blame the fluttering in your stomach on the lingering thoughts of a chase, of a hunt. The thought of running, trying to evade soldiers who train to hunt others by their scents has goosebumps forming on your skin.

They’re not from the cold either.

The sun has disappeared behind clouds, the grey weather of England quickly becoming normal to you. You haven’t seen the sun much since you landed in London two weeks ago, and you’re sure you’re not going to see much of it for quite a long while.

“What’s got you all twitchy over there?” Price asks, breaking the silence.

You turn to look at him, your mouth open a bit in surprise. “How can you tell?”

“I’ve been trained to notice small details, sweetheart.” He says, grinning at you. “Your fingers always get fidgety first. Like you’re looking for something to do with them. Usually they disappear beneath your sleeves, or you start picking at your clothes. Your scent changes too. Subtly, but still noticeable.”

Oh god. You wince a little bit. He can still smell you, even outdoors in an open area.

“Your eyes start to move, looking all over the place, like you’re searching for something, or trying not to stare at one place too long.” He continues, making you want to sink deeper and deeper into the chair until you disappear. Of course he can read you like a book. They all probably can. “Your breathing always picks up, fast enough it’s noticeable if you’re paying attention. It’s easy to set you off too, sweet little thing.”

Warmth floods your face at his words and his stare, the back of your neck prickling. You meet his gaze across the table, the look in his eyes making you feel like you want to crawl under the table and hide. You hate that he can read you so easily. You won’t be able to hide anything from him.

He probably knows you already have.

You continue to hold his gaze, not backing down despite the intense tickling at the back of your neck. Touch alphas like a challenge, you repeat it over and over in your head.

Don’t back down.

A quiet growl rumbles through his chest, a shiver shooting down your spine so violently it nearly steals your breath. You fight the urge to bear your throat to him in submission, your head tilting back just slightly as your eyes squeeze closed. You’re panting, warmth pooling in your stomach as he chuckles lowly. He’s won, he knows it. You were never going to win. Nature was set against you. Your nature is to submit to him.

“Innocent little thing, aren’t ya?” He says, pulling a cigar from one of his pockets.

You know he smokes, you know they all do. You’ve smelled it on them many times, and it was to be expected. Your father hadn’t started until after he joined the Marines. Your mother hated it. “Dirty habit.” She always whispered as she smelled his uniform and the laundry he brought home from deployment.

He could have had worse ones, you always thought.

You can’t help but watch his lips curl around the cigar, the scent of tobacco permeating the air. His eyes are still on you, your own lips tingling a bit. You think back to how close you had been with Soap, inches from having your first real kiss. You regret it a bit now, not letting him kiss you. He wouldn’t have known he was your first, except perhaps by your awkwardness.

You wonder how many times they’ve all been kissed. You wonder how many times they've kissed each other. You wonder how many barrack bunnies Price has been with, how many other omegas he’s been with. You can’t imagine Ghost being one for barrack bunnies, but then your mind sinks somewhere deeper. Ghost in his mask with an omega bent over the side of his bed, his hand wrapped around the back of their neck...

Another shiver runs down your spine, your lower body beginning to pulse in time with your heart.

“What’s going through that head of yours?” Price asks, still staring at you.

“Soap almost kissed me a couple days ago.” You admit, not trusting yourself not to admit to the other things you’re thinking about.

Price’s brows lift in surprise. “Did you not want him to?”

Want. There’s that word again. You keep hearing it, but you’re not entirely sure what it means anymore. He’s asking to be sure that Soap didn’t force you into anything, even though you can’t imagine the beta doing such a thing. Betas usually weren’t aggressive without good reason, not like alphas.

“Well...no, that’s not it...” You say, your face burning as you begin to regret your choice of topic. “I...I haven’t kissed anyone before...well, not like a real kiss. At The Institute, there was this omega, she was...progressive. Nothing they tried could break her of that and she got into the heads of a few other omegas. One of my bunkmates decided she didn’t want an alpha to be her first kiss, so...I volunteered.”

Price continues to stare at you, a dark look in his eyes. You know some alphas like to watch omegas together. You’ve seen it in movies, things your brothers would put on when they were babysitting, things that would have gotten them hit over the head if your father found out.

“Is that so?” He finally says, flicking some of the ash from the end of his cigar. “Not even a real kiss before you presented?”

You shake your head. “No. I was...the weird kid in school. Most people considered it social suicide to be around me.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “I bet quite a few of them are kicking themselves now.”

“Why didn’t you want Soap to kiss you?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. He’s still wondering if he needs to have a long chat with the young Sergeant, or perhaps take other action.

“Well...it wasn’t so much that I didn’t want it.” You say. “I just...thought you might be upset...if you weren’t my first...” You swallow nervously at his stare. “Since you’re pack alpha...you have the right to claim-”

“I wouldn’t care.” He cuts you off, almost as if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of him having all the rights to claim you. As if he was uncomfortable with the idea of holding a claim over someone else. “If you want your first kiss to be with one of the others, then you shouldn’t keep yourself from what you want.”

His words echo Dr. Keller’s. It confuses you, their willingness to allow you to want. You’re an omega, you don’t get to want. You get told what to do, what to wear. You get told what to want. You don’t make decisions, you sit and be a good omega for your alpha.

“I don’t know what I want.” You say quietly.

“Think about it.” He says, stubbing out his cigar. “I won’t be upset. Makes me feel a little better, in truth. Makes me feel less like an old creep trying to steal your innocence.”

You try not to smile at his words. “I mean...you are, in a way.”

He tsks at you but his eyes are playful as he checks his watch. “You’re trouble. We’ve got a few minutes before the hour is up. Let’s see if they can beat it.”

You stare out at the treeline, taking deep gulps of the cool air to try and calm yourself as you wait for the others to arrive. You’re still tingling a bit from your conversation with Price, that slight tickle still crawling across the back of your neck. You want him to hold you there, feel his calloused skin against yours, feel the strength of his fingers as they press into your skin. You want him to take all the turmoil away, the fear and the insecurity and the confusion.

You want to kneel for him.

You’re saved from your thoughts as a familiar figure breaks through the treeline, big and hulking and wearing a skull on his face. You’ve never seen him in this mask before, only ever seeing him in his balaclava. It’s a haunting image, only his eyes visible as he looks up at the top of the tower. Soap and Gaz appear behind him, the three of them making for the staircase.

Their boots echo on the steps as they race to the top, Soap the first one to appear with a wide grin.

“Aye, we found the target!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you into the air and spinning.

You yelp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hang on for dear life. He smells like musk and sweat, and you can’t help but wonder if they ran here. He sets you back on your feet, your legs aching in protest after sitting for too long. The soreness of your morning hike has caught up to you, and you’ll be feeling it for a few days.

“Not bad.” Price says, looking at his watch. “For the first time with a new scent.” He grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get back and you can have the rest of the day off.”

You let out a whine in protest as Price grabs your backpack, gaining the attention of the four men. “You mean we have to walk back too?”

“It’s not even a kilometer.” Gaz says with a grin.

You pout. “I don’t know how far that is! I already had to walk for two hours this morning. My legs hurt.”

“You didn’t stretch before you started?” Soap asks.

“No! I didn’t know we’d be hiking halfway across the country when I was told to get up at 5 am!” You continue to pout.

“Come on, you’ll survive.” Price says, clipping your backpack across your chest again. “You can sleep for the rest of the day.”

You definitely have blisters, the sides of your feet burning as you walk down the stairs. You’re going to take a very long shower when you get back to base, and then crawl into bed and sleep until someone inevitably knocks because they’re worried about you. You’re still pouting, not having even thought about how you were going to get back to base.

Soap stops at the bottom of the steps, turning to glance at you behind him as he bends down slightly. “Hop on, hen.”

It takes you a moment to conceptualize what he’s doing before you break out in a grin, putting your hands on his shoulders to hoist yourself onto his back. His hands grip the backs of your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on as he carries you piggy-back style.

“I’ve lifted weights heavier than you, bonny.” He says, not seeming to struggle at all with carrying you.

“Well, omegas are supposed to be small.” You say, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Aye, like a wee bairn.” Soap laughs.

He carries you all the way back to base, barely even breathing heavily by the time you break the treeline. The rocking motion of being carried, along with your exhaustion, has lulled you into a daze, your head leaning against his as you desperately fight sleep.

You’re jostled awake as Soap gently bounces you on his back. “We’re back, hen.”

You grumble sleepily, holding onto him tighter. “Comfy.”

“You’ll be comfier in bed, love.” Gaz says, stroking your hair.

“Carry me.” You murmur, both of them freezing.

“You sure about that, hen?” Soap asks. “You wan’t tae let us in your space?”

“Mmm...yeah.” You murmur, nuzzling Soap’s shoulder.

You miss the silent conversation between them in your half asleep state, the way Gaz’s hand hesitates on the knob, their slow, cautious steps into your space. It was a big deal, infringing upon an omega’s space. It’s sacred. One could only enter with permission, or if it was an emergency. Infringing on that space without permission could be detrimental.

Soap gently lowers you onto your bed, helping you curl up on your side. Gaz unties your boots, setting them on the floor next to the bed before pulling off your socks. He lets out a quiet hiss as he spots your raw and blistered feet.

“That’s going to hurt later.” He whispers. “No wonder she didn’t want to walk back.”

“Didnae say nothing either.” Soap says, his fingers trailing your cheek.

“Stubborn little omega.”

Gaz’s words are the last you hear before you’re lost to sleep, your brain forcing you to give in to your exhaustion finally.

It’s knocking at the door that wakes you. You’re not sure what time it is, or what planet you’re on. Your eyes are crusty with sleep, your pillow damp from drooling. You’re in your bed in the barracks, tucked under a blanket. You vaguely remember giving Gaz and Soap permission to enter before you were out again.

It’s still daylight, judging by the light around the edges of your curtains. Or maybe you had slept through the day and it was morning. You can’t tell, feeling a bit like you were hit by a bus and jumped dimensions.

“C’mon lass, ye got tae eat at least one meal today.” Soap’s voice calls through the door.

You let out a groan, pushing yourself up to sit. You haven’t even changed or showered, but your shoes have been removed. You flex your toes, wincing at the sharp pain from them. You pull the blanket off, staring down at your bandaged feet. They must be as blistered and raw as they had felt in your shoes. You don’t want to get up. You’re going to be sore and probably walking with a limp.

You know what they’re going to think.

The stares you’ll get.

Soon it will be for that reason, though, you think. Why not let them think it now? Then maybe by then they’ll be used to it and it’ll be much less mortifying for you.

You get up, padding barefoot to the door. You open it, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?” Your voice sounds rough with sleep, your tongue feeling heavy.

“Almost 1800 hours.” He answers. “Price let ye sleep. He and Gaz already ate. Had something tae take care of.”

You let out a quiet groan as you rub your eyes. You slept all day, past lunch and nearly past dinner. You likely would have kept sleeping, had they let you, but then you’d be up at an ungodly hour having to scrounge for food in the rec room.

“Get some shoes on.” Soap says. “We’ll get food in ye, then ye can sleep more.”

You let out a quiet grumble but do as he says, grabbing your most comfortable pair of shoes before following him out of the barracks. You let your hand slip into his, the base less populated on the weekend. The mess is still busy, though, most of those that stay keeping their schedules even over the weekend.

Soap helps you make your tray before finding Ghost sitting at a table. You deposit your tray across from them before going to grab something to drink. You look over the options, your sleep-drunk brain trying to decide on what you need.

“I recommend coffee.” A voice says behind you.

You spin around, looking up at a familiar face. Your stomach twists nervously, the back of your neck prickling. It’s the soldier that had been staring at you your second day on base, the one Ghost had scared off with his glare.

“You look like you need it.” He says, giving what you assume is supposed to be a friendly smile, except to you it looks like the grin of a hungry wolf in a storybook, and you’re the injured rabbit about to be devoured. You flinch just slightly as he holds out a hand. “I’m Corporal McKinney.”

You don’t want to take his hand, you don’t want to touch him at all. Catcalling you could handle, the stares and the whistles were nothing. None of them have been so brave as to approach you before now, and you’re starting to realize you prefer it that way.

An overwhelming scent suddenly washes over you, the prickling at the back of your neck intensifying. It’s rich and deep, the scent of leather and gunpowder lacing the ozone-like tang of anger, of danger.

“Can I help you, Corporal?” The deep voice rumbles behind you, the warmth close enough all you’d have to do was lean back slightly and you’d be touching him.

The soldier’s eyes lift from you to Ghost behind you, the wicked gleam to them fading as he stares down the giant alpha. “No, sir.” The soldier swallows thickly. “Just thought I’d introduce myself to the new omega on base. Figured we’d be seeing a lot of her around.”

“She’s no concern of yours.” Ghost says, a dangerous rumble vibrating at the edge of his voice. “You were given the briefing.”

He hesitates and you know he’s measuring the risk of staying, of saying something else. It’s not just the threat of a dangerous alpha, but also of his superior. “Of course, sir.” He finally says, eyeing you once more before he turns on his heel, leaving the mess.

“What do you want?”

You turn on your heel, staring up at Ghost. You’re shaking a little, staring up at him wide-eyed. You no longer feel the haze of sleep, wide awake and alert. Ghost is staring down at you, his scent far less prominent than it had been before.

“To drink.” He motions to the selection, waiting on you to answer.

You stare at the options, your brain trying hard to snap back into the present, to comprehend what you’re looking at. You’re on edge, on high alert after that confrontation.

“W-Water please.” You manage to stutter out,

“Go sit back down. I’ll get it.” He says, turning his back to you.

You scurry back to the table, still trembling as you take your seat again. You’re getting stares, likely from the change in your scent. It’s alerting every alpha and beta in close proximity, their instincts reacting to the scent of fear, of an threatened omega.

“Ye alright, hen?” Soap asks, giving you a worried look. The scent of beta washes over you, Soap projecting his scent to try and cover yours and calm you all at once.

You nod, trying to swallow the panic before you alert the entire mess to your current emotional state. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Ghost returns with a glass of water, setting it in front of you before taking his seat again.

“Thank you.” You murmur, taking a long drink of it. It’s ice cold, the sensation shocking you back into reality a bit.

You’re still trembling slightly as you eat, the back of your neck still prickling. You glance around the quickly emptying mess, eyes following every person that walks too close to the table. You know you’re safe. Soap and Ghost would make quick work of anyone who tried anything.

Ghost did make quick work of the alpha that had approached you.

You’re still in a bit of disbelief that Ghost had come to your aid. You remember the anger burning in his scent, the rumble at the edge of his voice. An alpha poised for a fight. Of course, you were being cornered by another alpha. You don’t doubt Soap could have easily won that fight if he had to, but an alpha had the natural advantage in a fight against other alphas. If it had been a beta cornering you, would he have still come to your aid? Or would he have watched and let Soap handle it?

You're drawn from your thoughts as Soap’s phone rings, and he dismisses himself from the table to answer it. You wonder who it might be. Family maybe? Price? You wish you had someone that would call you regularly. You will, once they start leaving you.

You’re left alone with Ghost, your eyes trying to look anywhere but at him. He takes your tray once you’re done, going to dump it before motioning for you to follow. You’re still a bit shaken, though you’ve managed to get your trembling under control, as well as your scent.

He leads you back towards the barracks, your pace faster to keep up with him. Your feet hurt, but you’re eager to get back to the familiar safety of the barracks.

You stop as a whistle sounds through the air, Ghost’s steps faltering as well.

“Gonna go spread your legs for that freak, bunny?” A voice calls out across the courtyard. “I’m sure I could offer you a better time. At least you’ll be able to see my face.”

The smell of ozone washes over you again, burning straight to some primal part of your brain. You’re not sure if it’s the exhaustion, or the emotions still reeling from your confrontation in the mess, but you turn on your heel, stalking over to the group of soldiers. You’re trembling again, but not out of fear. The anger has gone straight to your instincts, burning hot through your veins.

The soldiers laugh as you approach, the one that had spoken grinning vilely at you. “Gonna take me up on my offer, omega?” The sound of your title from his lips nearly makes you shudder in disgust. It’s wrong, it sounds wrong being said in such a way. “I’d love to bend you over and stare at that sweet ass all night-”

It’s not until your hand is throbbing that you register what happened. The soldier stumbles back a step, hand moving to his face. Your hand is balled in a fist, knuckles throbbing from the punch you delivered to his face. The next few moments seem to move in slow motion, your body pushed backwards as a hulking form comes to stand in front of you. The scent of ozone is still burning hot in your nose, anger pulsing through your body. Your ears are ringing, your hands refusing to unball from the fists they’ve closed into. You’re breathing heavily, eyes training on a small speck of mud on the back of Ghost’s jacket.

“-You even so much as look in her direction again, I’ll rip your intestines out, tie them to the back of a humvee and drag you all the way to London, understood?” The dangerous rumble is back at the edge of his voice, his own hands balled into fists.

“Loud and clear, sir.” The soldier spits out, massaging his face from your punch.

A rough hand closes around your arm, making you stumble as you’re half dragged towards the barracks. You’re breathing heavily, breaths coming in gasps as the flood of emotions through you grows to almost be too much. You’re led down the hall towards the rec room, Ghost pushing you inside.

“Sit.” He snaps, pointing at the couch.

You scramble to sit where he pointed, your brain beginning to move in autopilot as you cradle your throbbing hand to your chest. It’s still curled in a fist, the adrenaline pumping through you preventing you from uncurling your fingers. You try to steady your breathing as Ghost digs around in the fridge for a moment. You flinch as the door slams closed, Ghost dropping an ice pack on the coffee table before he takes a seat next to you on the couch.

He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him rather roughly. He forces your fingers to uncurl, his own rough fingers digging into your hand, poking and prodding. He moves your fingers, bending your wrist and moving your arm. “It’s not broken.” He says, grabbing the ice pack and slapping it across your knuckles. “Luckily.”

You’re still trembling, your hand lifting subconsciously to hold the ice pack in place. You feel dazed, not unlike you had earlier when you’d been pulled from sleep, only this time you can feel the emotions still pulsing through you. The remnants of anger, the disgust, the fear both from attacking an alpha, and the reprimanding you’re sure you’re due for doing such a thing.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” You murmur, feeling far away, outside of your body looking in.

“Probably not.” Ghost says.

You turn slightly to look at him, pupils dilated as you simultaneously appear to see him and look straight through him. “Price is gonna find out.”

Ghost nods again, the burn of ozone gone from his scent. “He’ll believe you, though. Anything you tell him, he’s going to believe you over what anyone else says.”

You stare at him, the skull mask from earlier gone, leaving him just in his balaclava. His eyelashes are blonde, you think as you take him in, trying to ground yourself. His skin looks soft, but that could just be the omega screaming at you. You expect him to get up, to leave you alone until you find the will to move, or one of the others finds you. Yet, he stays where he is, eyes focused across the room as you sit there.

“You’re a purebred alpha.” You say, breaking the silence with the thought that had come to mind earlier. You need to keep talking, to keep your mind steady while you relax.

“How did you figure it out?” He asks, not denying it.

“Your scent.” You say, recalling earlier in the mess, the way his scent had permeated your entire body. You hadn’t just sensed it, you had felt it. His emotions, his anger, the hint of desperation for the Corporal to make the smart decision and walk away. “It’s different from other alphas. Price smells good and I’d like to roll around in his scent, but yours hits some deep primal part of my brain.” You say, turning slowly to face him. “Makes sense you’d end up in a position like this. You’re supposed to be like, an apex human.” You laugh quietly. “Just a couple of purebreds. What are the odds?”

“Very high.” He answers.

You laugh again. “Yeah, I know. Both of my parents were purebreds, and my grandparents. Both of them came from a long line of purebreds.” Your brows pinch into a frown. “I didn’t see it in your file, though.”

“I don’t want it to be.” He explains.

“Makes sense.” You say. “If I’d had that choice I’d have it left out too. As soon as someone sees it, that’s how they measure your worth. It’s not about you anymore, it’s your status they want.” You lift the ice, moving your fingers. Your hand is sore, your knuckles starting to swell a bit.

“It’ll bruise.” He says, staring down at your hand.

“‘Spose it could have been worse.” You say, grimacing at the ache pulsing all the way to your shoulder.

“Yeah,” He scoffs. “You could have broken your arm with a punch like that.”

“‘S not my fault the CIA didn’t teach me much.” You murmur. “They mostly made me run.” You remember the hours and hours you spend running circles around the gym. So many circles, over and over again.

Get involved in their hobbies. Your brain flicks through that section of the book, an idea beginning to form in your head. You’d considered it a few days ago, when you first read that chapter. Ghost speaks in violence and warfare, fighting and defending. How do you bond with the apex of humankind?

“Teach me to fight.”

His eyes shift slowly until he’s looking at you. You wish you could see the rest of his face, read his expression. His eyes don't give you much to go off of, something he'd likely perfected over the years.

“Or, at least defend myself.” You continue, fighting the urge to shrink back under his gaze. “I know, Price already told me to run first, but what if that's not an option? Am I gonna throw a shitty punch and hope it works? Aim between the legs and hope I'm faster than they can block? I promise I won't go around trying to fight asshole alphas.”

He continues to stare at you, his eyes locked on yours. Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach twisting nervously but there's no challenge in his gaze, not even a playful one like you'd initiated with Price. He's simply staring.

You wonder what he's looking for, what he's thinking. Will he laugh at you for asking? Tell you to ask someone else? Get Price to do it since he’s actually your alpha?

“Fine.” He grunts, breaking eye contact first as he pushes himself to stand. “We start Monday. Early.”

A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him leave the rec room. You may have just found your way into Ghost’s heart, or at least a way to get him to tolerate your presence.

Monday. Early.

You’ll be ready.

NEXT ->

Taglist Part 1:

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#call of duty fic #call of duty #cod fic #john price x reader #captain price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #a/b/o #alpha beta omega dynamics #omegaverse #x reader

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