#keller when i catch you keller ....
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starkidsimping · 2 months ago
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i seriously dont like Detective Loki's description of Barry having the "IQ of the ten year old" because . dude .
Barry can write, he can drive, he has deep understandings of whats going on around him and i seriously SERIOUSLY cant stand the infantilization of those who are mentally diabled. YES he has declined functional skills mostly regarding verbal communication and socialization ( which wasnt helped by Keller that mf ....... ) but he is literally just autistic . there is nothing in the movie that shows that hes incapable / reliant on anything or anyone and theres nothing indicating that hes "stupid" as everyone thinks he is. hes not a child he is literally just some grown ass dude with autism can we leave this man alone PLEASE 😭😭
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soaps-mohawk · 10 months ago
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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 ->
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“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.  
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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. 
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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. 
Don’t back down. 
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. 
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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 ->
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Taglist Part 1:
@bobaprint, @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10
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headcanonenthusiast · 10 months ago
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COD characters and their opinions on toys
Includes Valeria Garza, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo Parra, Simon Riley, König, Kyle Garrick, John Price and Alex Keller.
All headcanons, besides Valeria's, are gender-neutral.
Ladies, gentlemen and everyone in-between, I got an ask from an anonymous user that gave me an absolutely devilish idea. They suggested a multitude of things, but one thing they requested was another COD characters x reader headcanons, but specifically, how they feel about using toys.
Also, if you've been following me for a while, you'll know that I've never written for Price before. He's literally my grandpa but imma do my best to deliver for you Price lovers 🙏
NSFW under the cut.
Enjoy!
Valeria Garza
-Sooooo, yall know how I said she'd encourage the use of toys when away, but when she's with you she won't let you touch one? She still does that.
-Her view on toys is actually quite positive despite restricting your use of them. She kinda just denies you the right to use any toys she hasn't picked out for you specifically bc it turns her on (and bc she's a bitch ❤)
-If she catches you using a toy that she didn't permit you to use, she'll crank the intensity on said toy up to 100 and basically overstimulate you until you're complaining and crying. (Consensually, ofc. Consent is important y'all 🙏)
-"What did I say about using toys without my permission, hm? That's right-I said not to. But, you didn't listen, did you? No, no, you stop that shit. If you didn't want me to punish you, you never would've picked up that vibrator in the first place."
-Shes absolutely RUTHLESS if you use a toy without her permission.
-But, when it comes to toys she DOES want you to use, she'll either intruct you how to use them or just control the toy herself.
-Personal favorite toy is a vibrator, but she also loves using a strap, but only on you. She'll never let you use any type of strap/dildo on her.
-Will occasionally use a vibrator if you aren't there/in the mood on herself, but will never let you use one on her.
Alejandro Vargas
-If you suggest the use of toys, he'll look at you like 🤨
-"Toys? You wanna start using toys? Am I not enough for you anymore, mi chula/o? (Girl/boy)"
-He'll probably think he's not satisfying you enough if you suggest it, but he's open to trying it after you insist that he's still able to satisfy you.
-When he does try them out with you, they become a staple in your sex life. Specifically a vibrator for each of you to use.
-Does prefer it where it's just you two, though. Sex toys are kinda like a special treat he likes to indulge in on occasion.
-After you introduce him to vibrators, though? He uses them all the time for masterbating.
-May or may not send you videos of him pleasuring himself with the toys yall bought together 🤭
-Also may or may not eventually want to get a vibrator that has his name engraved on it for you, so you can use it whenever he's out on missions :)
Rodolfo Parra
-Kinda like Alejandro, where he only uses them sometimes, but has probably used at least a fleshlight before yall got together.
-He's honestly a sucker for vibrators, but it's become something he only does with you. Won't use them to please himself because he needs to hear your voice for it to feel really good.
-His opinion on toys is more positive as opposed to Alejandro's in the beginning, though. He's perfectly fine with the suggestion and doesn't feel embarrassed when you two (obviously) may not know how to use a specific toy for the first time.
-"Don't worry, amor (love). It's only our first time. If we like it, we'll use it again, and the more we use it, the better it'll feel."
-Very encouraging of you if you wanna buy a new toy. And he doesn't necessarily mind what it is, either. Fleshlights, vibrators, straps, most toys he's open to trying.
-Would totally send you videos (or more so, just the audio) of him using any toys you bought for him. Very vocal about it, too. (I'm a firm believer that Rudy has a voice kink)
-Will occasionally send you links to toys he think you'd like on Amazon or something and be like "if you give me a bj I'll buy you this for Christmas " (you don't have to give him a blowjob. He'll buy it for you anyway)
König
-I feel like he'd be a biiggggg fleshlight enjoyer.
-Would love to use one and pretend it's you when you aren't there.
-He's kinda ehhh about other toys, though. Mostly because his fleshlight satisfies him enough without the addition of others.
-If you wanna use them on yourself, that's fine. König just wants you to be happy.
-But, if you wanna use one on him? May Lord have mercy 🙏
-Will probably manhandle you for the suggestion, pinning you down and punishing you how he sees fit.
-Maybe, when he finally loses all self-respect for himself, he'll try it out.
-"But only once." He says, not willing to admit how much he learns to love vibrators.
-Will totally use one when you aren't home. Wouldn't be caught dead by you with one, though. If he asks you what time you'll be home, there's one of two things going on.
-#1: He just misses you
-#2: He's using a vibrator and wants to know if he has enough time to cum before you get home
John Price
-Not a big toy guy honestly, not even with fleshlights or simpler toys.
-Like...I feel like he'd be okay with trying something like a vibrator or sex doll, but he just won't like it as much.
-"These toys aren't anywhere near as good as you, darling."
-They really just aren't for John, but he doesn't wanna deprive you of using them. Most of the time, anyway.
-Sometimes, he'll catch you with one while he hasn't had the best day and is desperate for you. So, he'll take control of the toy for you, gently edging you before taking you for himself.
-"Can't believe you thought that that little toy could compare to me, love."
-Despite barely using the toys himself, he's the one who insists on washing yours after you use them around him. He knows how sensitive the combination of him and toys must make you, therefore, he doesn't want you to move an inch afterwards.
Kyle Garrick
-He's a big toy enthusiast. Loves them, anything that vibrates in particular. Probably has a cockring.
-Gaz is also more than happy to let you use whatever toys you want. On yourself, on him, he's pretty open to when it comes to the use of sex toys.
-On the occasions where you aren't there, he'll send you a video or picture of him using a toy (Totally not to tempt you home, totally not).
-"Look at what you do to me, baby. Can't keep my hands to myself when you're not here."
-I feel like he'd like mutual masterbation. Just watching you use a toy of your choice is enough to make him cum.
-He'll also place any toys on the bedside table to be washed the next morning (which is important btw❗❗) and may or may not get the biggest smirk on his face seeing whatever mess y'all left behind.
Simon Riley
-Appreciates a good fuck with a fleshlight or pocket pussy.
-But besides those types of toys? Ehhh..
-Not really his thing. Like I said in the Simon specific headcanons, he's not really that crazy when it comes to sex. He's not the type to judge his partner if they use toys, but if they manage to piss him off, I feel like he'd hide them. (Would probably just put it on a high shelf or something if you're shorter 💀💀)
-"You're not getting that stupid toy back. Not till you say sorry."
-Might even tease you with the toy, like drawing it over your dick/pussy and chuckling when you demand he give it back.
-"Oh, you want it back, do ya? No, no, no. Sorry, love, but I think I'd like to see why you like this little thing so much before I hand it over."
Alex Keller
-He loves anything that vibrates.
-Almost as much as he loves you, actually. Uses them religiously whenever you aren't in the mood/there.
-Like Gaz where he likes to use them during sex, but not really with mutual masterbation.
-Instead, he'll have a vibrator or even an anal plug on himself while he eats you out/sucks you off. (Totally moans against your cock/pussy btw, he's fairly vocal 🤭)
-Or, you can use a toy on yourself while you give him a handjob and he'll praise you endlessly for it.
-"Aw, does that feel good, baby? Yeah? Good, good girl/boy."
-At the end of the day, though, he'd much rather be cumming from your touch than a toy. So, he'll put them aside so he can have you all to himself. You're absolutely irresistible to him, afterall. How could he choose a toy over you when you're so perfect in his eyes?
Yall I'm SO sorry that this took me forever. Life has been absolutely slaughtering me, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. Next up will be COD men x male reader headcanons, so be on the lookout for that!
Feel free to ask me what I should do next! My inbox is always open.
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chamomiletealeaf · 7 months ago
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Warnings: sub! Alex Keller, fem! afab reader, dry humping, Alex being touch starved :(
Poor sweet little Alex Keller who doesn’t think you’ll ever notice him since he’s not on the 141 and you spend all your time with them.
Alex Keller who watches you laugh with Johnny in the mess hall and wishes it was him making you laugh.
Alex Keller who rehearses how he’s going to actually talk to you first but never gets the courage to do so.
Alex Keller who one day passes you on base and makes eye contact with you, and is shocked when you smile at him.
“Hey Keller.” You say as you walk past him.
His eyes widen as he whispers a “hi” back and he slows down a bit, watching as you carry on.
How the fuck did you know him? You’ve only met a few times when you trained him? There’s no way you could’ve remembered him?
Alex Keller who fucks up into his fist that night remembering the way you smiled at him and how your hips swayed as you walked, cheeks flushing as he cums all over himself to the thought of you.
Alex Keller who sees you the next day while walking into the gym on base in one of those tight long sleeved zip up workout shirts and a pair of workout shorts and nearly passes out when he catches the smallest glimpse of your cleavage.
“Hey you wanna spar Keller?” You ask him with a smile and his eyes widen while he watches you wrap your hands.
“Uh- yeah. Ok.” He says nervously and you giggle to yourself at how off guard you caught him.
He steps onto the mat with you and after a few rounds of pinning him you pin him to the mat one more time straddling his waist with his arms pinned to the sides of his head.
Instead of getting up you release his hands and sit back on him, still straddling his waist as you cross your arms.
“Y’know I’m starting to think you’re letting me win Keller.” You say with a smirk and he groans at the feeling of your weight on his clothed semi hard-on and instinctively reaches out to grab your hips.
He realizes what he’s done and his eyes widen and yours do too.
“I- sorry I didn’t mean to.” He says and immediately lets go of your hips, slinging an arm over his eyes to hide his embarrassment.
But you smirk, arms still crossed as you lean forward and place both hands by his head, making him moan involuntarily from the friction on his groin.
“Is this why you’ve been letting me win? Huh, Alex? You ask slyly, emphasizing his name rolling off your tongue which makes him whimper and buck up into you, his body betraying him.
“Fuck- I- stop doing that I’m trying-“ He tries to explain himself, his arm still over his eyes but you grab his arm and move it off his face to look at him.
“It’s ok honey, you can be honest with me.” You tease him a little, once again accentuating the pet name, clearly enjoying the effect you’re having on him and he’s never been more embarrassed in his life. You weren’t supposed to know what you do to him, not like this.
He turns his face away from you but you grip it and force him to look at you.
“Y’know, if you wanted me on top of you Keller you could’ve just asked.” You say with a smirk and you feel him twitch under you.
“Mmph.. fuck y/n, please.” He begs, finally giving up and giving in to you.
“Please what cutie?” You ask him and his breath hitches.
“Kiss me. Please. Anything.” He begs and you lean in to kiss him, hand still gripping his jaw.
He moans and his hands fly up to your hips and squeeze while you make out with him and he just can’t stop his hips from bucking up into you.
You grind down on him while you kiss him and go to kiss down his neck.
You kiss down his neck until you get to his pulse point and he moans, loudly, and you smile to yourself at how cute he is, unable to control himself.
You continue to grind down on him as he takes over, gripping your hips so hard they almost hurt and dry humping you, all while you leave hickeys up and down his neck.
“Fuck y/n, mmph, that’s- that’s good.” He mumbles out in a high pitched voice.
“You gonna cum in your pants for me? Huh baby? Poor thing just can’t help himself can he?”
He whimpers at your words and you grind down on him one more time and bite his pulse point.
He grinds up into you faster and harder from your words and pulls you down into him while he continues to thrust up before cumming in his pants from just your weight on top of him and your words, his high pitched moans and whimpers echoing off the gym walls.
You move from his neck and look down at his face, cheeks flushed from cumming and embarrassment.
You kiss him again then lift your hips up to look down at his khaki colored cargos to see the big dark wet spot on them that he soaked through.
You giggle at the sight then coo at him.
“Did so good for me honey.” You tell him as he still continues to catch his breath.
“Maybe next time I’ll let you cum inside me hm?” You ask, and his eyes widen with a smile, already excited for when this “next time” is.
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 1 year ago
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Cod Characters General Dating Headcanons (part two)
+ Random and Some bits of Chubby Fem S/O Headcanons with mentions of different nationality S/O
+ What type of BF/GF they would be
Including Valeria Garza, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell, Alex Keller, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Nikolai Belinski
+ Some Poly! Farah x Reader x Alex Headcanons
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Fem terms and pronouns like she/her are used for the reader
ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ
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My rules for requests and characters I can write for
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Please comment if you want to be added to the taglist, the next part or cod content alone. I also have content for TLOU and Resident Evil, so please specify.
Taglist: @marshmallowinamess
A/n: Hi lovelies! It's me again Lia, currently working on this one while I haven't even posted the other yet because I wanna post early and I love Valeria. Y'all don't got shit on me, I'm writing this shit while I'm in class AHAHAHA. Btw more Resident Evil content soon...
Disclaimers/warnings: Typical Cod things, OOC characters???, Unrealistic, Some suggestive themes and language, I'm so sorry but English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Most of the content I've seen are on TikTok and Tumblr I don't actually play the game but I love the characters so much, same with any other content I have for other video games.
Tiny sidenote: the reader in this has been describe to be shorter than the characters and has been mentioned to have a soft body rather than the muscular type.
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Valeria Garza
ꕥ (Just saying, I'd let her step all over me)
ꕥ The El Sinombre falling in love? No shit she's... semi-normal??
ꕥ Black cat/Doberman girlfriend for sure. She's extremely protective and extremely terrifying when she wants to be. Scary dog privilege if you get it. (Occasionally it's funny to imagine her as a Chihuahua)
ꕥ Dates all kinds of women, body type and other things don't matter to her because she doesn't have a type. If you catch her attention then that's that.
ꕥ Loves spoiling you in everyway possible, just sit pretty for her and she'll take care of everything. Doesn't give a shit on the amount of money she spends on you, you want it? You got it.
ꕥ Loves it when you need her, it's one of the ways she feels loved and appreciated. Would never say it out loud but loves it whenever you show her your appreciation by doing manual labor.
ꕥ The idea of you being her pretty little housewife is sending her to heaven.
ꕥ Spanish pet names galore, culture is something of importance to her so will definitely teach you Spanish if she had the time.
ꕥ Would be interested learning about your culture as well because if you're gonna know about hers then she ought to know what to call you in your language. (Definitely not self-indulgent because I'm Filipina and I know she'd pronounce it somewhat correctly)
ꕥ Doesn't ever let you know about her cartel business. You can never know and she will never allow you to get ever get involved. You're too precious to her and god forbid anything will happen to you, she will destroy the world if she had to.
ꕥ She's more of a masc lesbian, she's the type who likes to be in charge in a "I'm the one who wears the pants in the relationship" way. She's very dominant.
ꕥ Doesn't ever even consider to be submissive, with the amount of shit she's been through. She can be vulnerable with you but in no way, shape or form could you ever top.
ꕥ You're an escape from the life she knew, it was peaceful with you. At first she wasn't used to it, definitely has reoccurring thoughts of something going wrong. You dying, getting kidnapped, falling into the hands of her enemies so constant reassurance.
ꕥ Would absolutely kill for you, no hesitation. The literally definitely of "I would burn this world for you", would absolutely deny it but you know otherwise.
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Farah Karim
ꕥ Tabby cat coded girlfriend, she's down to earth and chill. She's that one neutral person everyone adores, she puts her best efforts into a relationship for sure.
ꕥ Has and will help you do your make-up all the time, doesn't matter whether you asked. She'll observe the specific way you do it and do it perfectly.
ꕥ Sweetest girlfriend ever, she has dominance tendencies but it's mainly because she's quite assertive and often makes the decisions. Can't help it, after all her field of work requires her to one up egotistic men.
ꕥ That being said, I think she's had some mild PTSD about how they treated her. Sure it made her tough and she didn't like to be bossed around (unlike angry Mexican man) but I like to think she keeps you out of it as much as possible.
ꕥ Chubby!Reader headcanon is that she literally would adore you, compliment anything and everything. Insecure? Not on her watch, she just makes you feel so loved.
ꕥ Most definitely has introduced you to Price (I feel like he's everyone's father figure except los vaqueros and characters he hasn't interacted with) and don't worry he's already looking after you as well.
ꕥ Poly! Farah x reader x Alex headcanons:
ꕥ You guys following whatever Farah says, towards relationship decisions anyway because you and Alex tend to be indecisive.
ꕥ Lot's of communication between the three of you even if it's just a small thing, consent is always key.
ꕥ Alex following his two wives around a lot, he's mostly behind you guys all the time.
ꕥ Farah is patient when it comes to a lot of things but especially you and Alex.
ꕥ You get head pats from both of them, Farah is in a more praising manner while Alex tends to be in a comforting manner.
ꕥ You cannot tell me these two won't be down to cuddle in any position because I know damn well they would be. More often it's just Alex wanting to be a little spoon.
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Alex Keller
ꕥ Golden Retriever boyfriend FOR REAL. This man is the type of man to kneel down and clasp the strap of your shoe or heel when he notices it.
ꕥ You know when you pick up something near a corner of a table or underneath it? He's the type of boyfriend to subconsciously cover the edge or corner of that table so that if your head bumps into it then it wouldn't be as painful or even at all.
ꕥ Having said the first one, he also guides your head whenever getting into a vehicle because god forbid you actually hurt yourself. Not on his watch.
ꕥ Understands why you're insecure and definitely offers a lot of verbal reassurance.
ꕥ Is the type of boyfriend to say "Yes Ma'am" when you ask him to do something, doesn't matter whether it's a small thing or labor intensive. It's kinda become your guys' thing now since people take notice on it.
ꕥ Pouty kind of jealous? Not necessarily whiny but makes this sad upset face at you when jealous instead of something like Ghost or Valeria would do where they'd be glaring the person down jealous.
ꕥ Very thoughtful, he pays attention to what you want and what you need and knows the right timing.
ꕥ Forehead kiss giver, you cannot convince me this man doesn't love doing it. Especially when you're shorter than him, loves resting his chin on top of your head or burying his head in your neck.
ꕥ HATES seeing you uncomfortable, absolutely despises it. That's the last thing he wants you to feel when you're around him. Would understand if there's imminent danger around but it would literally being him back to life if you felt safe enough around him even if there was danger because you're confident in his capabilities to keep you safe.
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Kate Laswell
ꕥ (LOVE THIS WOMAN, SHE'S FOR THE GIRLS BECAUSE IT'S CANON. ARGUE WITH THE WALL)
ꕥ She only ever let the TF141 and Nikolai meet you because of course she trusts them enough.
ꕥ They were like "So you're the infamous wife of Laswell huh?"
ꕥ Even before you were married, Kate called you her wife because she was ✨manifesting✨.
ꕥ She loves using it though, sometimes she'd be with coworkers and they'd invited her to go out to pub and drink but she'll refuse saying "Can't, my wife is waiting for me". She'd really rather just spend time with you anyway.
ꕥ Congrats, you made her quit smoking or at least she's trying to. She still does every once and a while when shit gets really bad but never around you because she knows that secondhand smoke is just as bad for you.
ꕥ She doesn't have a type when it comes to people so body is out of the question, if she feels a connection then she feels it.
ꕥ Anything and everything to keep you safe, if something were to happen to you, trust that she'll either get it down herself or if she can't then she'll turn to Price and Belinski for help.
ꕥ As much as possible, she keeps you away from everything. The job she has is just too dangerous and she can't risk you, not when you're one of the only good things in her life that keeps her happy.
ꕥ Definitely a workaholic, something as simple as asking her to eat or rest, maybe take a break. She'll do it, for you and because she knows you care for her.
ꕥ Doesn't half-ass anything, full effort when it comes to you especially when there's a special occasion between you two like holidays, birthdays and anniversaries.
ꕥ Also she loves making you laugh, more often with stories of her experiences with Price and also about how they met.
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Gary "Roach" Sanderson
ꕥ (I CANNOT FIND A DECENT GIF OF THIS MAN FOR THE LIFE OF ME... Here's the credits to where I found the photo)
ꕥ Get this man a makeshift antenna, he would adore it. You made it for him because of his call sign.
ꕥ He sometimes wears it on missions but mostly keeps it so that it doesn't get damage because this man is definitely a horder, not in a bad way just anything you give to him is something worth keeping in his eyes.
ꕥ Gary definitely gives you handmade gifts back, when he knows you'll like something or even if it's at a random, he loves making them for you and he cried when he found out you kept those all in it's own box labeling it your treasures.
ꕥ Very shy and reluctant at first but once he's comfortable, he is tackling you for a hug when he gets the chance.
ꕥ Doesn't talk a lot, (it took me to Google when I saw that many people hc him communicating through BSL) but I like to think he does talk. It's just really selective, like a few words.
ꕥ The first time you heard his voice, you looked at him like "???". He looked at you confused at your reaction and he only realized it when you told him.
ꕥ Think that he'll try to learn sign language within your mother tongue you know, it's too cute not to think about.
ꕥ He gives off soft lover vibes, definitely far more on the gentle side compared to his comrades.
ꕥ Something in me tells me this man rambles but only and I mean only when he's already extremely comfortable around you, not used to using his voice much so expect a bit of stutter. Which by the way, he does this without knowing he's rambling and will profusely apologize with his tone of voice slowly getting more quiet. (This is your sign, comfort this man)
ꕥ Likes to crawl around and climb things for fun, another one of the reasons his call sign was formed. The first time Ghost genuinely screamed was when Roach was stuck on the side of the wall and Ghost saw him there. Kinda like when you see a roach climbing up a wall and it flies straight for you in your direction. (Happened to me by experience when I was taking a shower)
ꕥ He also likes crawling around, like this I mean. Hacker!Reader seeing this on the enemy's security camera while she tries to shut them off is just funny to me idk why.
ꕥ Chubby!Reader? Sign him the fuck up. You once sat down near him and he saw how you thought spread a bit and it was so close to his that he was just resisting the urge to touch. The voice in his head shamelessly thinking of what it would be like if you suffocated him with them.
ꕥ He loves peppering kisses, doesn't matter whether it's receiving or giving this man would straight up take your hands and use them to cup his face, his hands still being over yours and would with wait for you to kiss him or kiss you himself.
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Nikolai Belinski
ꕥ (I have no clue how to write for nik but I'll try my best)
ꕥ We all know him and his jokes about his "wives" which by the way is not true and you know it.
ꕥ He's husband material however he is quite busy, not that he'd barely spend time with you but he is away a lot. There's an upside to this, he constantly calls you (Let's be real, he prefers calls over texts) just to check on how you're doing and he tells you when he's going to come home.
ꕥ Despite all his jokes, he'd never actually make fun of you. Sure he's sarcastic and talks to himself a lot but he'd never go as low as actually making an offensive joke to his lover.
ꕥ Speaking of joking, your laugh is music to this man's ears. Don't matter if you sound like a dying cat, he's still gonna make you laugh.
ꕥ Surprisingly really sweet, people are often surprised to see that man with a lover. He's very thoughtful in a sense that he's observant, sure he's quite absentminded when around you because that's the only space he's comfortable enough to do so but also because he likes listening to you.
ꕥ Does every safety measure in a helicopter possible if he knew you or Gaz would be in that helicopter, he also makes improvements to it and calls it Gaz-proofing because we all know how Garrick fell off a damn helicopter TWICE. (Idk how he does it, Gaz has some serious plot armor)
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crazyk-imagine · 7 months ago
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Breaking Hearts and Making Names
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Pairing: Nathan Scott x Fem!reader
Characters: Chris Keller, Fem!reader, Nathan Scott, Brooke Davis, Peyton Sawyer, Lucas Scott, Marvin "Mouth" McFadden, Antwon "Skills" Taylor, Haley James (Scott)
Warnings: Fluff, one tree hill funsies, chris keller being a punk, reader taking no shit, brooke and reader being bestie's, the girls needing to rope reader in, reader is kinda like a fem wade wilson, this was kind of random but also not, I love making reader besties with Brooke, this has been in my drafts for a bit, happy to have posted it, lowkey a stupid fic but a fun one
Word Count: 676
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You turn the corner when you hear him flirting with another girl and roll your eyes. You walk towards the stairs to Nathan’s apartment and raise a brow.
"How old are you again?" You cross your arms, staring at him.
Chris turns around and furrows his brows, confused as to what you’re getting at. "What?"
"How old are you? You're not in high school and yet you're preying on young girls, under the age of eighteen might I add which I believe would make you a pervert." You turn to the girl he’s been talking to and lean in, “you can go now.”
She nods and scoots around him so she can leave.
He scoffs, rubbing his face in annoyance. “Chris Keller is offended and not a pervert."
You lean in closer to him, "would you really prefer it if I called you a pedo?"
His eyes widened. "Man, you're cold."
Your shoulders deflate as your eyes soften, "aw, Brooke taught me well." You spin around and catch her gaze as she walks closer to you, throwing her arm around your shoulders.
"I did and I'm so proud."
You both throw your heads back and chuckle.
He shakes his head, watching the two of you take the lead and walk up the stairs to hangout in your boyfriend's apartment but not before adding, "I know you're checking someone out, you pervert. I would say kiss my ass, but you can't so, suck a d-"
Peyton and Haley have never pulled you away from the railing as fast as they have in all their lives while Brooke throws her head back and laughs, clapping her hands to where it sounds like she’s smacking her hands together.
-
The guys get out of the car and walk towards the defeated musician. Nathan glances up when he hears your laughter.
He can’t help but chuckle, knowing you had something to do with Chris’ defeated look. "What happened?"
The musician lifts his head, staring at the youngest Scott boy with a defiant attitude.
Before Nathan decided to officially ask you out and not hide his feelings from you, he made sure to put the infamous Chris Keller in his place.
"The one in your hoodie is mean."
The Scott brother's glance at one another and nod.
"Makes sense," Lucas says.
He and Haley always liked your style and the way you carry yourself, which explains why you’ve been friends with them for as long as you have.
It helps him when the other guys on the team want to try and pick on him or if a certain guy who refers to himself in the third person needs to be put in his place. But the downer for those who come across your mean streak is-
"She and Brooke have been hanging out a lot.”
“We've never known someone to have the same amount of brazen personality as Brooke until they met and, as Brooke likes to say, they “clicked”. I’m surprised you made it as far as you have," Nathan adds.
"She hurt Chris Keller's feelings."
"Something tells me, she doesn't care," Nathan tells him before heading up the stairs.
“Tell your brother to control his girl.”
Lucas shakes his head, “I’d rather not. She can get pretty mean if I try to tell her to do something.”
Mouth and Skills chuckle to themselves as they pass him.
“I wouldn’t take what she means to a heart man,” the latter tells him.
The blond pouts. “How would you take it if she called you a perv?”
“I’m not, so I don’t have to worry about it.”
Mouth nudges his friend in the side, causing him to whine. “What he means is, you should watch what you say, or you get the look.”
“The look?”
Mouth nods, “the look.”
The two walk away from him, leaving him to follow behind and see the infamous look that your friend was talking about.
He chuckles and thanks whatever karma was in his side to prevent him from getting a stare down from you. 
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commsroom · 3 months ago
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cutter was born in the 20s, and he'd become "arthur keller" by the early 70s, so obviously pryce's story at the beginning of brave new world can't be taken literally - that's not even an old man, much less "older than anyone she had ever met." it's also inarguable she was an adult already working on her... ideas for the human body when cutter sought her out; "i want you to make a doll for me" and "i found people who had some very bold ideas about how to... tune up the human body [...] i funded their work, and provided them with a willing test subject" are pretty definitely referring to the same events. so, it's fairy tale language, but the question is: why? why frame it this way?
one part of it is the "fountain of youth" in connection to immortality, strength, and health. the implication isn't literally that cutter is very old and pryce is very young; it's that she represents this power, and that he wants her to bestow it upon him: "then you and i will fix the world. i will be young and you will be whole." cutter and pryce choose to look eternally 28, while referring to and conducting themselves as if they're very old: it's not just vanity, it's part of their self-mythology. simultaneously young and old, having overcome the natural order.
that mythology of "overcoming" natural limitations is especially significant for pryce: characterizing herself as a "little girl" within her own story is both self-victimizing and self-aggrandizing. pryce does not see herself as disabled so much as temporarily inconvenienced; even the usual limitations of the human body are something she hopes to transcend. "instead of being wretched or afraid, the little girl decided to be clever." she was put at a disadvantage, but overcame it all by herself because she was smarter and better than other people. by extension, anyone who can't do what she did just isn't good enough, even as she's closing doors behind her and making it harder for others like her. and at the same time: it's an underdog story that requires her to have been an underdog. she hasn't been in a very, very long time, but the power she holds over others remains justified in her self-perception by this image of a sick little girl who was hurt by the world. there's an implication of inherent worthiness, and even a sort of expected assumed innocence in characterizing it that way. the first thing people notice about pryce is her eyes, and... sure, maybe it's the technology, but if cutter can catch bullets without any visible signs, it seems likely to me that, like her age, this is at least in part an aesthetic choice. it intimidates people. she's turned this point of hurt and vulnerability into a power play, and remains attached to it.
and that's the other part of the mythologizing that's going on: presumably, pryce was not the only person who worked on all of this. cutter funded others. but the story retroactively simplifies it, in a childish fairy tale way, and paints an image of them as exceptional, uniquely capable and so uniquely deserving, people.
i think there's something interesting to consider here about pryce in contrast to hera: that pryce is a woman who self-justifies her cruelty via a mythologized girlhood, while hera is a woman who was never a girl, who was never considered innocent or even allowed the same recognition of the ways she's been a victim. pryce resents humanity and all it represents, resents her body and its limitations, feels that being human has only caused her suffering, but still clearly believes that she has more of a claim to humanity than hera does by nature of her biology and upbringing. pryce's "bootstraps" attitude re: disability and her own self-victimization are the crucial things here, but i think that is also particularly interesting if you read hera as a trans woman.
(incidentally, this is part of why i have a particular love for hera designs where she's just a regular woman, more angular, and maybe even older looking - a natural 30-something in contrast to an unnaturally maintained 28 - than pryce. they're both women who have chosen how they want to look, and it highlights something.)
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local-crying-boy · 5 months ago
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ℂ 𝕆 𝔻 𝕞 𝕖 𝕟 𝕙 𝕖 𝕒 𝕕 𝕔 𝕒 𝕟 𝕟 𝕠 𝕟 𝕤
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
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How they are like in a relationship pt2
Characters included: Alex Keller, Philip Graves, Nikolai, Hadir Karim
A/n: I don’t know a lot about other CoD characters that I have not written this headcannon for, so I apologise for my lack of knowledge and that the others are missing <3
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─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Alex Keller
Our little American is the sweetest man here.
He’s one respectful, kind and loving man (not like the others aren’t) but he’s the type who just knows what’s going on with you by a simple look
He calls you names like ‘baby’ ‘sweetheart’
He’s got a list of jokes he wants to tell you, and has told you the CIA one a few times in hopes that it does soon become funny
Loves it when you tell him stupid jokes as well
Phillip Graves
Pet names like ‘sweetheart’ ‘honey’ ‘doll’ ‘baby’. Stupid little ones you expect southern Americans to use (for obvious reasons)
He doesn’t like leaving for missions when you and him got together, he wanted to be with you and give you all the love you deserve
So, since he can’t always be there, he would drown you in gifts and affection the minute he got home.
He usually tries to show this all the time, but you know that sometimes he just simply comes back completely and utterly mentally and physically exhausted.
He can’t say much about what he does, but he can still somewhat confine in you (as much as he insists he’s okay)
Nikolai
King of forehead kisses. You cannot tell me otherwise.
He’s talk asf (well, he’s taller than me and I’m short asf), so he can just tower over you and plant soft kisses over your head.
He’s older too, so he’s screaming major respect and being a decent man that you might not find in younger lads (for example the boys my age -.-)
He was also reluctant at first to be with you, his age was one thing as the age gap between you and him was a little too large for his liking.
However, you heavily grew on this man and he couldn’t help but FINALLY admit his feelings.
RUSSIAN NICKNAMES
Most of the time you don’t know what he’s called you, but, hey-ho, at least it’s something.
Has, at least once, insulted you in Russian without you knowing and covered it up as a pet name (you never heard him call you it more than once)
Hadir Karim
Hadir knows how it feels to loose those who are close to him, he’s practically lost his entire family due to the war going on in Urzikstan.
When he first met you, he wasn’t planning on falling in love with you, let alone date you.
However, one things leads to another and the two of you ended up getting together (yipeee)
His worst fear is losing you, after everyone he’s lost, he doesn’t want to lose another.
If you’re a solider, he’s mostly watching out for you when you’re fighting, waiting for the moment that he might have to jump in and make sure you don’t die.
It’s an extreme, of course, he knows you are completely capable of taking care of yourself, but caution didn’t kill the cat, curiosity did, and he’s happy to admit he’s not curious to see if you could survive the worse of the worst.
Speaks little sentences to you in Arabic, he doesn’t care if you understand or not (he hopes that, one day, you’ll be able to catch onto certain phrases and words)
Masterlist
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soaps-mohawk · 7 months ago
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 18: Don't Let Me Go
Summary: Things have gone wrong in your pack's absence. Can they make it back in time before irreparable damage is done? Can they fix the damage that's already been dealt?
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 10,232...oops
Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, panic attacks, very descriptive scenes of panic and anxiety, very heavy emotionally in the beginning, major invasions of privacy, hurt/sort of comfort, very brief mention of violence and death, and most importantly: fluff
A/N: Yeah, so this one kind of got away from me. It's definitely one of my favorite chapters now, and it's definitely the longest so far. It's pretty heavy, so plan something fun afterwards because it will hurt. I tried to catch all the possible triggers, but of course, if I miss one let me know. I promise things will begin to take a turn for the happier after this, at least for a bit. Picks up pretty much right where chapter 17 left off.
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You’re shaking. Your breaths are coming in gasps as you stare at your open door. There’s no scent in the air, nothing that would give you a hint of who invaded your space, or if they’re still in there. You should leave, barricade yourself somewhere and call Dr. Keller, or even Kate. 
What could they do, though? Your pack won’t be home until tomorrow at the earliest. 
No one can help you. 
You slowly push your door open, ready to run in case someone is hiding inside. You stand in the doorway, scanning the small space, but there’s no sign of anyone. There’s still no scent either, just your own mingled with the slight chemical burn of scent blockers. Your eyes scan the room, looking for anything that might be new, anything that might be missing, anything that might be slightly out of place. 
The clothes on the floor are slightly rumpled, but you’re not sure if you did that in your haste to pull on shoes before you left, or if they’ve been that way since the knock sounded on your door. You lift your gaze to the ceiling, scanning it and that’s when you notice it. The cover over the vent is slightly out of place. You likely wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been paying attention, if you hadn’t looked. 
The thought sends a chill running down your spine. 
You keep your eyes on the vent as you grab your desk chair, kicking clothes out of the way as you move it under the vent. You stand on the chair, reaching for the vent, but it’s not quite enough. You shove the chair to the side, taking everything off your desk before you pull it under the vent. You climb up on shaky legs, your heart thudding in your chest as you remove the vent cover. 
Nausea twists at your stomach as your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp. There, strategically placed between two of the gaps in the vent cover, is a camera. It’s small, and would have been invisible just staring at the vent from below. You feel like you might be sick as you pull it free from the vent cover, staring down into the tiny lens. 
How long has it been up there? 
You drop the camera onto your desk, your fingers shaking and trembling as you feel along the edges of the vent, checking for anything else that might be hiding up there. You replace the cover after you find nothing, a sense of dread filling you. 
Had the guys put it up so they could watch you, make sure that you’re safe? Had they put it up there before you arrived? You think about all the times you’ve changed in your room, your heat. 
You climb down from the desk, tugging it further towards the center of the room before you climb back up, unscrewing the cover off the light. You check the bulb, looking for any cameras or recording devices. You screw the cover of the light back on after finding none, a quiet sob leaving your lips as you look around your room. 
You close the door and lock it before you begin your search, checking every corner and piece of furniture for cameras or recording devices. You empty the dresser and closet, checking every drawer and corner for anything suspicious. 
You pull recording devices from under your desk and the back of your nightstand, the adhesive still fresh enough they pop right off. A cold sweat has overtaken you as you find another recording device and another camera, adding them to the growing pile on your desk. 
A quiet sob of fear leaves your lips as you check the bathroom, tearing your room apart to check every inch. You search up a tutorial on YouTube, using your phone to check for more possible cameras that you might have missed. 
You stare down at the pile of cameras and recording devices on your desk. Someone entered your room and planted them while you were with General Shepherd. It had all been deliberate. Get you away from your room and distracted so they could enter and set up the devices. You wonder if it’s all part of some sick plan, some way to ensure things are going well with your pack. General Shepherd had been very interested in your mark, invading your space without a moment of hesitation to see it firsthand. You would have shown him, had he asked to see it. Instead he’d just done it himself, as if it was nothing. 
Your hands are shaking as you find a ziploc bag in the mess you’ve made of your room, putting the cameras and recording devices into it. You drop it onto the floor before stepping on it, listening to the crack of metal and plastic and glass under your shoe. Tears slip down your cheeks as you pick up the bag of broken pieces, taking it to the bathroom. You hide it far in the back of the cupboard beneath the sink, piling things around it and on top of it to keep it hidden. 
You stand in the doorway of the bathroom, your skin crawling as you stare at the mess. You don’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own space. The thought of someone breaching the sacred space, entering your room without a second thought to put up cameras makes your stomach churn. 
Where will you go? You can’t just leave, find somewhere else to feel safe. What if they did the same to the guys’ rooms? There could have been an entire team of people that came in and put cameras up all over the barracks. A sob leaves your lips as you rush to the door, double checking it’s locked before you shove the dresser against it. You flip your desk up to cover the window as much as it can, just in case anyone tries to climb in.  
You sink to the floor in the middle of the disaster that has become your room, sobbing quietly. You want your pack home, you want to feel safe again. You glance at your phone where it’s sitting on a pile of shirts, afraid to even touch it. That woman could have done anything to it while you were with General Shepherd. What if they’re trying to call you and they can’t reach you? 
You should try to reach Dr. Keller, tell her what happened, get her to check if there’s anyone lurking around the barracks that shouldn’t be. What if they try to attack her, though? Can she defend herself? You don’t know if she can fight or not. What if she gets hurt because of you? She could ask someone else on base to look, but what if they were involved in it? What if it was someone already on base that had done it? The thought nearly makes you sick. 
You’re scared to leave again. What if they’ve noticed you found the cameras and come back while you’re gone? What if they come back while you’re here? 
The tears flow freely as you sob, too afraid to even move. You can feel it, the panic starting to bubble up again, the fear welling inside you. Your muscles begin to tense, shoulders pulling up near your ears as you try to defend yourself from this invisible threat. It’s an easy slope from fear to distress, and there’s no one to help you if you start distressing. You press your palms into your eyes, holding your breath to try and shock your body into something other than panic. 
You bite back a startled scream as a knock sounds at the door, your heart rate spiking again. 
“It’s just me,” Dr. Keller’s voice sounds through the door. “Ready for dinner?” 
You take a deep breath, staring at the dresser blocking your door. You’ll have to move it to get out, which she’ll likely notice. You could lie, you could lie easily, but you’re not sure you could keep it up right now. She’ll notice the tears, the obvious signs of panic and distress. She’ll want to know, and you can’t trust yourself not to spill everything. 
You should tell her about what had happened, but you know she’ll be disappointed. She’ll think you were stupid for leaving, for not even sending her a text. She’ll tell John when he returns, too. He should know about it, but there’s no way a high ranking General could arrive on base without them knowing, especially one that’s their commander. Maybe it had all been a test. Maybe they do know about General Shepherd and just forgot to tell you this was going to happen. 
Maybe Dr. Keller even knew about it, and didn’t say anything because she thought you knew too. 
“I-I’m not hungry.” You say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. 
There’s a pause outside the door for a moment, a beat of silence that’s too loud.
“Is everything alright?” She finally asks. 
“Y-Yeah.” You say, clearing your throat. “Just...not really hungry right now.” 
It’s silent again for a beat, making you hold your breath anxiously. 
“Are you sure? I can come back later, or bring you dinner.” She says. 
“I’m sure.” You swallow the tears welling in your eyes again. “I’ll grab a snack if I get hungry later.” 
“Okay...” She says, and you can almost see the frown on her face. “Text or call if you need anything, alright?” 
“Yeah.” You say, your voice cracking a bit. 
You regret it almost instantly, the urge to shove the dresser out of the way and fling the door open strong as you hear her receding steps down the hallway. You don’t want to be alone, but Dr. Keller can’t give you what you need. The tears start falling again, sliding down your cheeks as you flop onto your back, ignoring the way the edge of a book digs into your spine. 
You just want your pack back. You want John to scoop you up into his arms and wrap you in his warmth and soothing scent. You want Kyle and Johnny to squish you between them, sandwich you so tightly you’re scared you might burst. You want Ghost to wrap himself around you and offer you a blanket of protection against anyone who would even dare cast a glance in your direction. 
You just want to feel at home again. 
You want to be safe again. 
***
The emotional and physical exhaustion pushes you into the state between consciousness and sleep. You’ve moved to your bed, tucked under the covers and stuck between the wall and your giant bear, as if it could offer you some form of protection as you float between awareness and somewhere in the realm of sleep for a few hours.
You’re not sure what time it is, when the disruption comes. It takes you a moment to register why you’re awake. Some deep part of your brain is prickling, sending out warning signals to your body. Something’s happening, something’s wrong, something’s posing a threat. 
You hold your breath in the silence of the barracks, listening to the slow, quiet footsteps making their way down the hall. For a moment you think you might be imagining them, that you’re still asleep and dreaming. Your fingers pinch at your skin, nails digging in to confirm that you are, in fact, awake. This is really happening. 
Your heartbeat picks up, the bitter stench of fear that’s coated your room intensifying as the footsteps pause outside your door. You let out a quiet, shaky breath as you lay there, thinking up every time you checked the door in the last few hours to ensure it was locked and the dresser was still pushed in front of it. 
You cover your mouth as the door handle wiggles, catching on the lock. The whimper of fear threatening to rise catches in your throat as you hold your breath, your body trembling under your blankets. You should reach for your phone, send a text to Kate, call Dr. Keller, do something. Yet, you’re frozen in fear as the handle continues to wiggle before stopping. 
You don’t release a breath until the footsteps fade, a quiet whimper slipping from your lips. Someone just tried to get into your room. 
You’re panicking, breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as you burrow under your covers, barricading yourself between the wall and your bear, hoping you’ll be invisible in case they come back, in case they force their way in. You can’t fight, not after the day you’ve had. The best you can hope for is that your scent is rank enough in the room it’ll deter whoever is trying to get in. 
You need tomorrow to come, and fast. 
***
Daylight doesn't bring any sense of comfort. 
All it does is shed more light on the disaster your room has become, the physical representation of your internal thoughts and feelings. Your face feels puffy from crying, and there’s a bad taste in your mouth. You haven’t brushed your teeth since yesterday, nor have you showered, too scared to put yourself in such a vulnerable position. 
You glance at your phone, checking for missed calls, but there’s none. Dr. Keller will be by soon to get you for breakfast, but you’re not sure you can stand going to the mess. The idea of leaving your room, leaving it empty so anyone could just walk in and bug it or touch your things or hide out so they can take revenge on you for finding and destroying their cameras and recording devices has you paralyzed. 
That must have been what whoever entered the barracks last night had come to do. Maybe they thought you’d spend the night in one of the other rooms and they’d come to replace them. Or, maybe they wanted you to be in your room. Maybe that was the plan all along. 
The thought sends a chill running down your spine. 
You burrow back under your blankets, curling up against your giant teddy bear. You wish it was Price, that his arm would wrap around you and hold you close, keep you safe and protected in his arms. You’d take any of them right now, even Ghost. At least you know he’d protect you, especially if someone tried to enter the barracks without permission. 
You’re still lying there when Dr. Keller arrives. You stare at the dresser still pushed against the door, keeping you from opening it. Not that you really want to. You can’t stop the anxiety from taking over, bringing forward the image of Dr. Keller held at gunpoint on the other side of the door, trying to trick you into opening it so whoever tried to get in last night can finally do what they came to do. 
You know it’s a ridiculous thought. No one would be that stupid in broad daylight, and you doubt Dr. Keller would let something like that happen to her. She’d put up a fight, or at least you hope so. 
You can’t move the dresser without her knowing you’d pushed it against the door, which will only prompt questions. Questions you don’t want to answer. 
She calls your name through the door, concern lacing her voice. “Everything alright?” 
No. You want to scream it, tears gathering in your eyes again. You want to push the dresser out of the way, throw open the door and confess everything that’s happened in the last few hours to her. You want to bring her into your space, keep her there until your pack returns so you can feel even just an ounce of safety. 
But what if she gets mad? 
Leaving yesterday was stupid. Going off with some unknown beta without telling anyone was the dumbest thing you’ve done since your arrival on base. She’ll be disappointed and she’ll tell your pack and they’ll be disappointed that you didn’t say anything to her about it. Even if they knew it happened, they’d still be disappointed that you didn’t think to even question it, that you didn’t think to let Dr. Keller know what was going on. 
You made a stupid decision, and you won’t be able to take their disappointment and anger. Not after everything. 
“Yeah.” You call out, your voice shaking. “I-I’m alright.” 
You can tell she doesn’t believe you, even though you can’t see her. She probably has that look on her face she gets when she knows you’re not telling the whole truth. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of your heart. You’re afraid it might give out after the stress of the last few days. 
“Are you ready for breakfast?” She finally asks, likely giving up on trying to get any more details from you. 
You’re not hungry, and you know going to the mess will not end well. The risk of distressing is high, and the thought that any one in the mess might have been the intruder last night nearly sends you over the edge. One wrong glance in your direction might cause you to do something reckless. “I’m not hungry.” You finally say, pulling the blankets tighter around you. 
“Are you sure?” She asks. “Did you eat something last night?” 
“Yeah.” You lie, trying to keep your voice from breaking. “I had some snacks.” 
Her feet shuffle outside the door for a moment, and you can almost hear her sigh. “If you’re sure?” 
“I-I’m sure.” You reply. 
There’s a moment of silence before you get a response, your breath catching in your throat from the nerves. “Alright.” She finally says. “I got word that your pack will be landing in a couple of hours and we have permission to go out to the airfield and greet them. I’ll come back to get you when it’s time. If you need anything, call me.” 
You listen to her footsteps recede down the hallway, tears burning your eyes. You hate lying. You feel bad for keeping the truth from her, but the shame of revealing what you did is too strong. 
You hastily wipe your eyes, staring at the mess on your floor. You need to get your room back to at least its somewhat normal state, and you need to put yourself back to your normal state as well. If anyone gets any hint that something is wrong, you might crack, and you’re not sure you could handle the repercussions. 
You start with the desk, flipping it back the way it’s supposed to be and positioning it as close to where it was as you can get. You collect the books and other little things that go on it, trying to arrange it as close to how it normally is. You know they’ll notice if any little thing is out of place, if anything looks suspicious. You can blame some of it on cleaning, if they ask. You did some deep cleaning while they were away. That’s one way of putting it. 
You push the dresser back into place next, putting the drawers back in before starting on the clothes, putting everything back where it belongs. You make your bed last, the urge to nest gone completely. You’re shaking with exhaustion by the time you finish, tempted to crawl back into bed, but you know you can’t. Your pack is coming back, and you need everything to look like it’s fine still. 
They’ll notice. They’ll see it, and they’ll ask, and you’ll have to spill everything and face the shame and anger from being so stupid. 
Tears burn your eyes as you slip your desk chair under the door handle, making sure it’s secure before heading to the shower to get ready for your pack’s imminent return. You shower with the door open, getting done quickly to avoid being vulnerable for long. You try to make yourself look as decent as possible, ignoring the fact that there’s broken cameras and recording devices hidden under the sink. Eventually you’ll forget. Eventually it’ll fade from your mind and become nothing more than a forgotten nightmare. 
One of many. 
You toss your pajamas on the floor haphazardly, just to make things look more normal. You know if it’s too clean, that might raise some suspicions as well. You don’t want to give away that something happened, you don’t want to raise any suspicions. You just want things to go back to normal. You want your pack back, and you want to feel safe again. 
At least, until they have to leave again. 
You sink to the floor, leaning up against your bed as you wait for Dr. Keller to take you to greet your pack when they return. 
***
Every minute seems to drag on infinitely as you stare across the tarmac. They’ll be landing any minute. Any minute now the nightmare will be over and you’ll get to see your pack again after days of being apart. Finally, maybe, you can begin to feel safe again. 
You watch the plane as it comes in to land, your hands already trembling in anticipation. There’s a twisting in your stomach, you’re not sure if it’s worry or fear or excitement. They’re so close, so close you can almost smell them. Your omega is scratching at the back of your brain, your muscles twitching as the ramp begins to lower on the plane. You need to see them, you need to smell them, you need to ensure they’re alright. 
You can’t stop yourself. As soon as their boots hit the tarmac, you’re running. You don’t care if you’re breaking rules, you don’t care if the other soldiers get worried, or see you as a possible threat, you need to be in your alpha’s arms again. 
John grunts from the force of you hitting him, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You throw your arms around him, clinging to him as tight as you can. You’re whimpering, the quiet sounds dragging from your lips but you don’t care. You press your face into his chest, breathing him in. He smells like sweat and musk, the sharp metallic tang of gunpowder burning your nose. Yet, underneath it all, you can make out the earthy scent, the petrichor going straight to your brain. 
His arms wrap tight around you, squishing you up against his chest. His vest digs into your skin, but you don’t care. You can’t feel much of anything but relief. His breath fans your forehead as he leans down, his hand cupping the back of your head. He shushes you gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Tears fill your eyes as you cling to him, fingers gripping his shirt tightly like you’re afraid he might disappear again. If it wasn’t for the pain in your chest, you might have thought this was all a dream, that they might disappear suddenly and you’ll wake up alone again. 
“Easy.” John rumbles, gently stroking the back of your head. 
You cling to him tighter as his hand gets close to your neck, the thought of General Shepherd’s hand being so close to your neck where he could scruff you so easily making your insides squirm. 
He’s gone. He’s gone and your pack is here. 
“You’re alright.” John tries to reassure you, squeezing his arms around your trembling form. “I’ve got you.” 
You keep your face pressed against his chest, breathing him in, trying to get his scent to calm the raging storm within you. Your omega is still scratching at the back of your mind, a deep need to claw your way under John’s skin and into his body pushing at the front of your mind. You won’t be safe until you’ve been utterly consumed by him, until you’re safely tucked where no one can hurt you without going through him first. 
“Alpha,” You whine quietly, nuzzling your face against his chest. His clothes are in the way, a barrier against what you need. To feel him, to smell him fully again. 
“Easy.” He says, grabbing your hands as they shift towards the velcro straps of his tactical vest. “Let’s get back to the barracks first before we start that, sweetheart.” 
You don’t want to go back to the barracks. It’s not safe anymore. What if there’s someone waiting there for you to return? What if they get hurt because you don’t tell them what happened? What if you get hurt and cause them pain? 
“You’re alright.” John says, stroking the back of your head as he begins to ease your grip on him. “There’s a couple of muppets here who I think would like to greet you too.” 
Right. You’re so caught up in your alpha, you forgot the rest of your pack. You slowly allow yourself to be peeled away from John, Kyle right there to let you cling to him. 
And so you do. 
Your grip around him is just as tight, ignoring the uncomfortable ridges of his own vest. He holds you just as tightly, projecting his scent just a bit to try and calm you. Someone presses against your back, arms wrapping around both you and Kyle. The scent of citrus lined with beta invades your nose, Johnny squishing you into a sandwich between them. Your eyes squeeze shut as citrus and salty sea air blend together, the beta’s scents reaching deep into your brain to try and ease some of the tension in your body. 
They’re back. They’re safe. You’re safe. 
Now you just have to convince yourself of that fact. 
***
“How was she?” John asks as he approaches Dr. Keller. 
“Held it together longer than I thought she would.” She says. “Things took a turn yesterday afternoon. Shut herself in her room and wouldn’t come out. I don’t think she’s eaten anything since lunch yesterday either.” 
“We’ll get some food in her.” John says. “Thank you, for looking after her for us.” 
“Well, it is partly my job.” Dr. Keller shrugs. “Always happy to do it.” 
“Things will get easier, won’t they?” He asks. 
“Eventually. She’ll learn what coping mechanisms help and she’ll adapt.” 
“Hopefully at least one of us will be able to stay moving forward. I don’t like leaving her here alone.” He grimaces. 
“Separation is hard no matter what, especially with limited contact, on all parties involved.” She gives him a look. “I think the best thing you can do right now is just be together as a pack. Let those bonds heal and let her do what she needs.” 
“Thank you, doctor.” John says, shaking her hand. 
“Call me, if you need anything, as usual.” Dr. Keller says, watching his retreating back before getting into her car to make the short drive back to the medical center. 
John gets into the car waiting to take them back to the barracks, sitting next to Kyle who’s holding you straddling his lap, your face pressed into his neck. “That looks safe.” He remarks, even though they wouldn’t be going very fast, or very far. 
“Couldn’t get her to let go.” Kyle says, tightening his hold around you as the car begins moving. 
“You’re alright, sweetheart.” John says, rubbing your back gently. 
You turn your face to look at him, your eyes red from the numerous tears you’ve already shed, and the ones still trailing down your face. The guilt nearly makes him sick as he stares at you, feeling the slight tremble still from where his hand rests against your back. 
He’d never say it out loud, but he hates the fact they had to leave you, all four of them at once too. He’d fought, argued. He and Simon could have handled it on their own, even him and the two Sergeants would have been sufficient. Anything not to leave you by yourself during their first deployment. 
Despite his attempts, General Shepherd had been insistent that all four of them were necessary for this particular task. 
So, he had been forced to leave you behind on your own. It’s gone about as well as he expected, from the looks of it. He knew the separation would get to you eventually. The stress would grow to be too much. Every day he anticipated the news to come from Kate that you had distressed and your omega had taken over because he wasn’t there to help you. 
Every day he waited for the news that they’d lost you because the brass that put this initiative into place couldn’t understand why taking them all at once was a bad idea. 
Or maybe that was their plan all along. 
He couldn’t stop the conspiratorial thoughts running through his head as their mission dragged on. What if they were doing this on purpose? It wouldn’t be that strange to push the boundaries of what could be tolerated for the purpose of testing just how effective the initiative really could be. But pushing it like that so soon? Sure, he could rationalize it was possible. War could break out at any moment, which would require most military members to leave, to be separated from their packs for months or even years. His own team could be called out at any time for months working to eliminate a target and stop war from breaking out. 
Yet, he can’t help but feel there was something more, something deeper going on. What if they had called away for more nefarious reasons? What if getting you alone had been the reason behind General Shepherd’s insistence that all four of them were necessary for this particular task? He had refused to entertain those dark thoughts for too long, the fear of leaving you alone already itching in the back of his mind from the moment they boarded the plane to leave. 
He hadn’t been able to hide his relief at hearing your voice on the phone. Though you had sounded upset, and rightfully so, his worries had been lessened in knowing you were alright. You would tell them if something had happened. He knows you wouldn’t keep something that serious a secret. If someone had hurt you, or had tried to hurt you, you would tell one of them. 
Even though he trusts you, he does plan to speak to Dr. Keller more in depth later to ensure everything went as fine as she seemed to imply it did. Obviously their absence has been hard on you, but he needs to make sure you really will be alright, that you will be able to come back from the obvious distress this has caused you. 
***
You finally release your constricting hold on Kyle as the car pulls up outside the barracks. Even with them back, it still doesn't feel like home anymore, not after such sacred space was invaded so easily, so nonchalantly. Kyle climbs out of the car, setting you on your feet on the ground. You look between him and John, realizing Ghost and Johnny are still in the car. Your stomach falls as you realize what they're about to say, tears gathering in your eyes again.
“We still have some things we need to do.” John says, reaching towards you. 
You have the momentary urge to flinch from his touch, but you let his hand cup your cheek. “You're leaving me again.” You say, your voice breaking. 
John almost looks guilty. He almost looks upset by your visible turmoil. His hand drops from your cheek to your back, turning you towards the barracks. Your stomach twists as he guides you inside, the fear of someone being inside spiking. You know you're safe with John, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but you'd have to play dumb if they did catch someone inside. You’d have to act like you didn’t know someone had entered before, like you had been unaware of anything going on. That might almost be worse than telling them the truth. 
You inhale as he stops in front of your door, still closed from when you'd left with Dr. Keller. There's no chemical burn of scent blockers, just your scent in the air, and John's scent coming off him as he stands next to you. 
“We won't be long. Maybe an hour at most, and we'll only be across base. We'll come back and we can get lunch before our afternoon meeting. Then we'll just have reports to do, and you can sit in my office while I work on those, okay?” He says. 
Your brows pinch as you try to hold in your tears. You want to tell him, you want to reveal what happened, beg him not to leave you alone here again, but you can't. You can't face that shame, the disappointment you know he'll show on his face at the knowledge that you let that happen. You willingly left with a stranger without telling anyone. You let someone invade your pack's space so easily. They were gone for a week and you screwed everything up. 
“Tomorrow we'll spend the day together. All of us. I promise.” He says wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. 
Even though they're back, you still don't have them. 
You inhale shakily before nodding. “Yeah. Fine.”
John's thumb brushes your cheek for a moment before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 
You watch his back retreat as he leaves the barracks, leaving you alone again. You think back to when they’d left you, watching his back as he boarded the plane to be taken from you. You stare at the door as the cars drive off, a cold chill running down your spine. What if General Shepherd is still here? What if they're going to meet with him? What if he tells them he met with you while they were gone and they had no idea? 
Maybe you should have been honest with them from the start. 
You stare at your closed door, your hands shaking. What if there's someone inside? What if someone is waiting to take their revenge for you destroying the cameras. What if they put new ones up? 
You should have opened the door while Price was here so you could have at least screamed when someone would hear you. You back away from your door slowly, deciding to wait in the rec room. At least there you might have a chance. You could break a window and run, or at least have a higher chance of making it to a door. 
Would anyone help you? Would anyone come if you screamed? What if they’re all in on it? 
You're shaking as you sink onto the couch, sitting so you can see into the hallway. You want to see them coming so you can prepare yourself, or at least give yourself a chance to make an escape before it’s too late. 
You run through all the things Ghost has taught you in your head as you sit and wait, the minutes dragging by painfully slow. You can feel every second, though that may just be the anxiety and fear pulsing within you. You wish you could sleep, you wish you could relax, you wish you could do anything to make the time go by faster, but yet you remain hypervigilant, staring so hard you flinch at every little shadow your brain convinces you is moving. 
You’re not sure how long you sit there, tense and coiled, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. It can’t be more than an hour as John promised, yet it feels like a lifetime before you hear movement. 
You hold your breath as the barracks door opens, boots thudding with every footstep coming down the hall. You nearly whimper when a figure rounds the corner, before you let out a sigh of relief. 
“Ready for lunch, kitten?” Johnny asks, standing in the doorway of the rec room. 
You swallow the lump in your throat, your hands still clenched into fists. You're breathing hard, your entire body tense. You know you're reaching dangerous territory. Any more panic, you may start distressing. What a welcome home for them, coming back to a distressed omega. They're probably exhausted, and here you are making a scene. 
Hands close around yours. Warm, calloused hands apply gentle pressure, slowly uncurling your fingers. Your hands are shaking, trembling just slightly. 
“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, kneeling in front of you. When he moved, you're not sure. 
“I-I'm not...” You start, your voice shaking. 
“Ye need tae eat.” He counters, as if he had read your mind, expected the answer.  
He's right. You're beginning to feel it gnawing in your stomach, something deeper than the anxiety. With all the stressing you've been doing, you know you need to eat something. Being hungry is not helping that any, either. 
“I don't want to go to the mess.” You say quickly, the words almost mushing together incoherently. “Too much.” 
Johnny sits back, staring at you for a moment before nodding in understanding. “Alright. That's fair. I'll let the lads know.”
He stands up, leaving you alone in the rec room again. You listen to his footsteps fade, the door opening and closing for a moment. You hold your breath, practically on the edge of your seat. There's no reason they would make you go to the mess. You've eaten in the barracks many times before. 
You blame your worry on your hunger. You know omegas don't do well when hungry. Omegas don't do well being uncomfortable in general. 
Saying these last few days have been uncomfortable for you is a bit of an oversimplification. 
Footsteps echo down the hallway, a familiar hulking figure approaching the rec room. You never thought there would come a time when you would feel relief upon seeing Ghost. Yet here you are, the tension easing from your shoulders as he steps into the rec room. 
“They're grabbing us food.” He says, moving to sit in his usual spot in the chair facing the door. He sighs as he sinks into the cushions, and you can only imagine how tired he must be. 
And here you are making things worse. 
“You're stressed.” He says, staring at you. His eyes are still painted black beneath his mask, adding to the eerie vibe coming off of him. You're beginning to understand why they call him Ghost. “Stinking up the barracks.” He says, pulling out his phone. 
“Oh.” You say quietly, sinking in on yourself as you sit there. “Sorry.” 
You pick nervously at your sweatshirt as you wait for the others to return, letting out a quiet sigh of relief as they enter the rec room, food in hand. 
Johnny sits you on his lap as you eat, making sure you get your fill, likely aware that you haven't eaten yet today thanks to Dr. Keller telling on you. It's quiet in the room as everyone eats, even the TV off. They all look tired and tense, and you can only imagine what happened during their time away. The things they did, the things they saw. You wonder how much blood is on their hands now, hands that have touched you, hands that are holding you. 
They can just go off and kill people and come back and act like nothing has happened. 
You could almost laugh at how psychotic it all sounds. 
This is your life now. This is your new normal. 
“We have a quick meeting. Shouldn't take too long.” John says as they stand, Johnny placing you gently on your feet. 
You tug at your sweatshirt, avoiding his gaze. They're leaving you again. They won't be far this time, but still. You just want to curl up in bed with them and lay there until you feel safe again. 
Tomorrow, John had said. Tomorrow they will be yours. 
It might have been easier if you hadn't been told they were coming home until tomorrow.
***
You tense under the blanket as the door closes, quiet footsteps approaching your position on the couch. There's a quiet sigh as a figure drops to a knee in front of you, their figure visible as a shadow beneath the blanket. 
“Can you breathe under there?” 
You slowly lower the blanket just enough to peek over the top of it. John is kneeling next to the couch, his brows furrowed in a frown. You're in his office, having shut yourself in there while they went into the meeting. John had made you swear not to go snooping as he’d let you inside. You had promised, as you still feel no desire to dig through the likely classified files that were locked in the cabinets and on his computer. Instead you had parked yourself on his couch, burrowing under a blanket that smelled faintly of petrichor and tobacco smoke. 
“There she is.” He says as you peek above the blanket, gently running a hand over the top of your head. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?” 
“You left me.” You say quietly, trying not to burst into tears and confess everything. 
“I know.” He says, wiping the tear that slides down your cheek. “But we came back, just like we promised.” 
He is right in that regard, yet you can’t help the tears as they slide down your cheeks. The ache in your chest that had started to build over the last few days is still present despite their return. Everything is wrong. They feel too far away, too distant. Nothing is safe anymore, nothing is sacred, and they’re just acting like everything is back to normal. 
“Would you like to kneel for me?” He asks, his thumb stroking your cheek. 
You’re tempted to say no. For the first time you feel wary of your alpha. What kinds of things would you admit in your dazed state? If he questioned you, would you give him enough to put together that something had happened and you’ve been trying to hide it from him? Maybe it would help, though. It would at least ease some of the tension that’s built up. Maybe it could pull you back from the edge of distress you’ve been dangling over for almost two days. Maybe he’ll accidentally scruff you and you can forget the whole thing happened. 
The dark thought sends a chill down your spine. 
“Okay.” You say, pushing yourself up to sit. 
John offers you a hand, helping you up off the couch. You don't want to let go of his hand, you don't want to be parted from him. The omega in the back of your mind is screaming at you to get close to him and stay there for the rest of time. If he leaves you again...you're not sure you can handle it. 
He settles in his desk chair, getting everything he needs ready. He'll work on his reports while you kneel, a familiar position, a familiar situation. You've done this before several times. You're not sure why you're suddenly nervous. 
You set the pillow down, dropping to your knees beside him. The chair creaks as he shifts slightly, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. You fight the urge to flinch, to move away as he gently strokes his hand over your hair. You've done this before, he's done this before. You're not sure why your heart is thudding in your chest. 
His hand slowly moves lower, slipping closer and closer to your neck. You can't help it as your shoulders come up, preventing him from gripping the back of your neck. He moves his hand away as you get defensive, his chair turning slightly as he leans down. 
“It's alright, sweetheart. It's just me.” He soothes you, his hand returning to the top of your head. “I know it's been a while, but I promise I remember what to do.” 
“Sorry, sorry.” You gasp out, trying to relax. “I don't...I don't know...”
You do know. Your brain keeps flashing back to General Shepherd, his hand tugging down your collar, so close to your neck. How easily he could have scruffed you, if he'd wanted to. You would have known if he had, but he could have done anything to you during the time he had control. 
“You're stressed, all worked up.” John says, still stroking the top of your head, trying to soothe you. “It's been a long week for all of us. It was a risk, sending all four of us at once. A stupid risk that shouldn't have been taken.”
You're pulled from your emotional state at the slight hint of anger in his voice. It hadn't taken you long to figure out they likely were all sent in order to get you alone. It would have been impossible to get you out of the barracks and put cameras up with even one of them here. Did he know about Shepherd's visit? Had he put two and two together and figured out they sent all four of them on purpose? You figured he'd be angrier if he knew about what you did, about what they did to you. He would be blazing a path straight to General Shepherd if your alpha knew he got so close to you, put you in that kind of situation. 
At least, you hope he would. There’s still that fear in the back of your mind, that worry that it was all a test and you’ve failed. Would they send you back to the institute? Would they break the bonds and send you to a different pack? Would they send you out on your own, leaving you to fend for yourself until some other alpha crossed your path and decided you were worth it? Does he know you’re lying to him, hiding the truth of what happened while he was away? Is he waiting for you to confess, biding his time to see how long you try to hide it? 
You want to tell him. You really do, but you can't bring yourself to get the words out. You can't bring yourself to confess here on your knees before your alpha. You feel guilty, like a sinner, yet the shame keeps the words trapped inside. 
He continues to soothe you, sliding his hand further down until he reaches your neck. You force yourself to relax, knowing you need this. You need your alpha to take control. You need him to ease the heavy weight on your shoulders, even if he doesn't know what he's lifting. 
You close your eyes as his fingers press into your neck, your brain quieting to a hum as you begin to slip into the back of your mind. You feel the rush of endorphins as your brain begins to calm itself, quieting the storm that's been raging for almost a week. You begin to go numb, relaxing into John's hold as he eases you into a quiet, meditative state. He begins to work on his reports as he holds you, your mind floating off somewhere else, somewhere safer where no one can break in and hurt you, somewhere where the barracks are still secure and safe and your pack never left.
Somewhere where there's no initiative, and your pack picked you because they wanted you, because you were a good omega who did as she was told and didn't make stupid mistakes that put everyone in danger. 
The last of the tension leaves your body, your mind distant from the present moment. You're safe with your alpha. He'd never let anything happen to you. None of your pack would let anything happen to you.
The thought continues to repeat in your head like a mantra as you relax, held up by the strong pillar that is your alpha. 
***
“Report's done, Captain.” Kyle says, placing the stack of papers on John's desk. 
“Thanks.” John sighs, grabbing them. 
Kyle turns to look at you, fast asleep on the couch. “You want me to take her?” He asks, the formality easing between them as they settle into being a pack and not a task force on duty anymore. 
John stares at you, curled up on his lumpy old couch. It’s getting late, or at least it feels that way. You’ve been out, sleeping peacefully on his couch since he eased you out of your kneeling position. You’d clung to him tightly, and for a moment he’d considered holding you, letting you sit with him as you dozed, but he knows he can’t risk you seeing something you shouldn’t. So he’d eased you onto the couch, having to peel your hands away from his shirt. He’d nearly given up and let you keep hold of his shirt before you finally relaxed and released him. 
“Would probably be more comfortable.” He rubs his eyes, feeling the call of sleep himself. He wonders how much you managed to sleep while they were gone. You look tired, though you’ve been looking tired since your heat ended. He needs to rest himself, but he wants to get these reports done so he can keep his promise for tomorrow. “I'll be in there soon.”
“Don't work too hard.” Kyle says, moving to lift you off the couch. 
“No promises.” 
Kyle shakes his head before scooping you up off the couch, blanket and all. You’re still sound asleep as he carries you, pausing in the hallway for a moment. He had just been instinctually going to his room, but would you be more comfortable in your own room? You probably have spent the last week shut inside your space. It might be nice to spend some time somewhere else. 
He takes you into his room, laying you on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable. He needs to shower and throw his clothes in the wash, but he doesn’t want to leave you and risk you waking up without someone there. You’re sleeping deeply, though, not even stirring as he tucks the blanket up higher around you. He doesn't want to crawl into bed smelling like gunpowder and sweat. That might throw you off too. 
He takes the risk, knowing he can do both tasks quickly. No more than twenty minutes to get himself clean and his dirty clothes in the wash, as he prays you stay asleep and won't start panicking if you wake in a strange place. He had sensed how close you had been to distress, how tense you had been when he held you in the car. It’s been a hard week for you, even harder than it had been for them. 
He breathes out a quiet sigh of relief as he finds you still asleep when he returns to his room. You haven't moved at all, still tucked under the blanket from John's office. He gets himself changed and moisturized, rubbing some cream on the bruises that dot his skin. He's going to be sore tomorrow, they all will be, but he knows they won't be doing much. John had already told them tomorrow will be dedicated to spending time with you and helping you recover from the stress of them being gone. He’s silently glad for the break, knowing it could only be a few days before they get called out again. 
John had also told him he’d be pushing harder for one of them to stay whenever he can. He’s not taking this risk again, not if it can be avoided. 
Kyle’s pulling on his sweatpants when you inhale sharply. You're sitting up straight on his bed, eyes wide as you look around in fear. They’re hazy, confusion settling into your mind after going from John’s office to Kyle’s room after kneeling. 
“Hey, hey. It's alright.” Kyle says, moving over to the bed, taking a seat on the edge so he’s in your line of sight. “You're just in my room.”
“Kyle?” You whisper, clarity returning to your gaze as you stare at him. 
“I'm here.” He says. “Just went to take a shower and clean up.”
“Where's John?” You ask, tears gathering in your eyes. 
“Still working on things.” He says, cupping your face. “He'll be in eventually.”
The tears fall from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks. They wet his thumbs as he strokes your skin, your body trembling slightly as you sniffle. 
Something’s wrong. He's known it since you latched onto him on the tarmac. The way you'd held onto him like he might disappear, how you looked almost angry when John told you they still had things to do, the way your scent had filled the barracks, bitter with fear and stress. 
Something’s up, something you're not letting them in on. But, to be fair, they had just left you for a week, up and abandoned you to go play heroes. He wouldn't blame you for not telling them anything. The bonds have weakened. He can feel it, beyond just his natural beta senses. 
“What can I do?” He asks quietly, trying to project his scent a bit to help calm you. He doesn't want you distressing, not after holding it together for so long. 
“I...I need...” You inhale shakily, still trembling in his hold. “I don't know.” You whine, the tears falling faster now. 
He pulls you against his chest, holding you as you cry. He feels the tugging in his chest, sympathy for you and what you must be feeling, along with the guilt of knowing they caused this. They did this just with their absence. 
An idea begins to form in his mind as he holds you, something his family used to do when he was younger. 
He pulls away from you, standing up. “Come on. I have an idea.” 
He strips the blankets from his bed before pulling the mattress off the frame. He drags it to the door and out into the hallway before heading down to John's room. You follow behind him, watching him as he opens the door to John’s room, dragging the mattress in and dropping it on the floor. 
“Stay here.” He tells you, heading back out into the hallway.
“What're ye doin’?” Johnny asks, sticking his head out of his door. 
“Grab your mattress and Simon and meet me in Price's room.” Kyle says as he heads down the hallway, ignoring Johnny's further questioning as he makes for John’s office. 
He doesn't bother knocking, walking right in. John blinks at him from behind the desk, and for a moment Kyle wonders if he'd fallen asleep sitting up. It wouldn't be the first time. 
“Come on.” Kyle says, moving to stand in front of his desk. “Finish those tomorrow.”
“They're important, I have to get them done asap.” John counters. 
“Yeah, well I have something more important.” He leans forward at John's questioning stare. “Your omega needs you.” 
John stares at his beta for a moment, and Kyle can see the gears turning in his head, the debate happening, the conflict in his mind. He so rarely sees his alpha, his captain so indecisive for so long. He's usually so quick to act, analyzing a situation and making a decision in mere seconds. 
If only you knew the things you've done by simply existing in their lives. 
John closes the file on his desk, slipping it into the drawer before locking it. Kyle fights the triumphant grin threatening to form on his face as John stands from his chair after shutting his computer off. Kyle makes his way back down the hallway, John following behind after locking his office door. Kyle stops at his room, grabbing his comforter before heading for John’s room. 
Johnny had obviously gotten the idea of what Kyle had in mind, his mattress and John's laid out side by side so the three make one giant bed for them on the floor. He’s already laid out his own comforter and Simon’s, as well as John’s on the mattresses. They probably wouldn’t need blankets for long with their body heat, but the blend of scents will hopefully begin to ease the tempest raging in your mind. 
You’ve parked yourself in the corner, watching it all happen. You seem so small, so lost, so out of place. It's not all that different from when you'd arrived in their lives. Has being gone for a week really reverted things so drastically for you? Has your stress broken the bonds so much that you feel like a stranger amongst them again? 
Kyle steps over the mattresses, approaching you slowly. You look up from where you had been staring off into space, blinking up at him. Your eyes are still red and watery from crying, your arms clutching one of your stuffed bears against your chest. It’s the one John had scented for you, back when they were trying to get you to nest. He wonders if you’ve nested since they left, if that urge is still there, or if that too has faded. 
Kyle doesn’t often feel angry at his job. Not anymore. He doesn’t often question it. It’s what he signed up for, and he does it because someone has to. He chose this life, so he does his best to be a good soldier, to follow orders. Yet, as he stares down at you, he can’t help but feel anger bristling in the back of his mind. He tries to blame it on his instincts, on the fact that a member of his pack is so upset, so distressed at something that’s happened, and he doesn't know what to do to help. 
Yet he knows they were the cause of it, even if it wasn’t their choice directly. Something happened because of them. He tries to rationalize it. This is an experiment, a test to see how well packs will do with omegas, if it has any effect on how well they can do their jobs, if it makes them stronger, or if it weakens them. Those in charge had obviously put little regard in for how it would affect the omegas. They couldn’t have known how you would react, how badly all of them leaving would affect you. Or maybe they did know, and they simply didn’t care.. Perhaps you weren’t the focus of their study, but you were still a variable, you were still an important piece of this puzzle. 
How can they be more effective if their omega is struggling because of their absence? How can they be expected to function like a team now knowing leaving behind their omega will only cause distress for all of them? 
Kyle takes a deep breath, pushing back the anger and the emotions whirling in his own mind. He needs to focus on you right now, focus on helping you relax, helping you get back to where you were before they left you. He’s doing the best he can do right now for you, giving you what you need, even if you don’t realize it’s what you need yet. 
He holds out his hand to you, staying still as you stare at it. It takes you a moment before you slowly begin to move, slipping one of your hands into his. He guides you to the mattress in the middle, Johnny’s mattress, easing you down to sit on it. You glance around as Johnny and John toss pillows onto the mattresses haphazardly, making sure everything is perfect. It’s not a pretty nest, he’d hardly call it a nest at all, but he knows nesting is not necessarily all about looks. It’s about feeling, and right now, he knows you need to feel safe and secure. 
John quickly changes into more comfortable clothes as Kyle stretches out on the mattress, opening his arms to you. You curl up against his side, resting your cheek against his chest. You press your face into his skin, inhaling for a moment before you settle, slowly beginning to relax in his hold. 
Simon enters the room as John settles on Kyle’s other side, closing the door behind him and locking it, securing the five of you inside. Johnny settles on the other side of you, pressing up close against your back. He pulls one of the comforters up around the three of you before he tosses an arm around you, resting his hand on Kyle’s stomach, sandwiching you between the two betas again. 
Simon stands over the makeshift nest, staring down at the four of you. He’s obviously the most uncomfortable with the situation, and still a bit miffed from your lack of greeting on the tarmac. It was his own fault for being so closed off with you for so long. You had instinctively sought out the members of the pack you felt the most connected to, the most comfortable with in your time of such great stress. 
“Aw come on, ye big bastard, get in the bed.” Soap says, snapping Simon out of his reverie. 
Simon shuts the light off, bathing them in near darkness. You tense for a moment as the lights go off before you slowly relax again. Kyle listens to your breaths even out as Simon gets comfortable on the mattress behind Johnny, the four of them settling in around you. 
It's already warm in the room but none of them would even think of complaining. They’re too focused on surrounding you with their scent and their protection, the very thing you need the most. 
NEXT ->
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hedgiwithapen · 2 months ago
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Leverage: the trampoline job
(Sometimes the titles of these jobs is literal, and sometimes it’s a metaphor… this is the latter. AU of the Big Bang Job!) “There’s just one problem,” Moreau said, the tip of his polished shoe pressed against Hardison’s chair. “I don’t believe you.”
He kicked, sending the chair backwards into the pool with a splash. Eliot kept his face blank, a grift to make even Sophie proud.
“Eliot, you really think I’m that stupid? That I didn’t look for you after you ran?” Moreau chided. “In Serbia two years ago, at that orphanage…Moscow last fall. So I may not know exactly the game you’re playing, but I know you’re no middleman.”
Eliot’s throat tightened. This was why he’d brought Hardison, not Sophie. His plans burned, one after another till he got to L. 
“That’s Alec Hardison,” he said. “And if you’ve ever believed anything I’ve told you, believe that you want him alive.”
He jumped into the water, hoping the intrigue would be enough to stay Chapman’s trigger finger and still expecting a bullet in his back. 
Hardison was sputtering when he got him above water, choking on the chlorine. Eliot dragged him to the side of the pool, using the ladder for leverage to boost Hardison and the chair both out before clambering up himself, keeping in front of his friend. 
"I'm listening," Moreau said. "walk me through why, exactly, I shouldn't let my man here kill you both."
"Eliot," Hardison warned.  Eliot ignored him.
"If you know what I've been up to, you know who he is." He kept his voice even. An act, but one he'd perfected. 
"A hacker," Moreau dismissed. "But one you'd die for."
"Not just a hacker," Eliot said, ignoring the back half of the statement and hating how easily Moreau read it. "The best."
He could feel Hardison behind him, pride and confusion at war. He pressed on. 
"Vector's out, and he was never much of a player. Keller's gone.  They can't hide your money, can't move it either. Hardison can move it like a kid moves checkers on a board. Not a chance anyone catches on, if he's working for you.  You won't have to pay out in bribes, either.  You want him."
"And He came here looking for a job?" Moreau asked. "I find that hard to believe, too."
"He'll do it." Eliot said. The bitter sharpness in his voice isn't all for show. "He's a geek. Half of what he cares about is proving he can do it. The other half is staying alive. He's not stupid. He knows what you can do."
"Yeah, I'm learning all kinds of new things today, traitor," Hardison spit. 
Eliot took the barb like the blow it was.
"Well. Color me intrigued, then." Moreau's smile curdled Eliot's blood, but there wasn't anything for it.  This was why he brought Hardison.
There was always a chance things broke down, and Hardison was the one he could keep alive. Chapman grabbed the back of the chair, dragging it and Hardison through the door the models went through. “Let’s chat logistics,” Moreau said. Eliot eased his heart rate, trying not to picture the look on Hardison’s face. Fury and… god. Heartbreak. There wasn’t another word for it. “Let’s,” he agreed, like it was the easiest thing in the world to say, and not poison in his mouth. 
The team always recovered, bounced back, like Parker on a trampoline. They figured out a new plan, a new trick, something last-ditch and crazy. They'll manage it. Hardison's the one they can get back. 
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la-petite-lapin · 11 months ago
Text
Double the Love | Part Two
Double the Love masterlist
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 2.9k Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+, Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, mentions of poor mental health, injury description, eventual explicit sexual content, polyamory, M/M/F, FMC is bad at feelings
They finally meet
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One year later...
The message comes out of the blue. The first time I've heard from John Price in a whole month, and it's a fucking text message.
I'm watching TV, curled up in a ball on the sofa next to my best friend and flatmate Winslow "Winnie" Sloane, when my phone pings. I think about ignoring it until I catch a glimpse of his name. It's an unspoken rule between the two of us - we never knowingly ignore one another. Obviously, he can't reply to my messages when he's on ops, but that's different - that's not wilful.
I pick it up without hesitation and take a look.
JOHN PRICE: Tali, I need a favour. It's urgent.
My heart drops.
TALIA KELLER: What's happened? JOHN PRICE: Call me. I'll explain.
So, I do. I tap Winnie on the shoulder and rise up to my feet, shuffling off to my bedroom so I don't disturb her episode of Slow Horses. When I'm safely shut behind my bedroom door, I tap on the call button, dreading what's awaiting me on the other end of the line.
"John?" my voice is full of nerves as the call connects, echoing slightly around the room.
"God am I glad to hear your voice, Tali." He sounds haggard, his own voice tired and hollow. It's not hard to tell that he's fresh off an op. I can already imagine how drained he looks; can picture the dark circles shading his eyes and his scruffy too-long beard.
Sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly brave, I try to talk him into leaving the service. I think about Alex and his death, and I hate that John still knowingly puts himself in harm's way day and night. He's the only serving soldier I know now - I never met any of the other members of their unit - and I desperately wish that he'll retire soon.
"How are you?" he follows up, voice puncturing through my thoughts.
"I'm okay. At home with Winnie. How's Marcella?"
A soft sigh leaves him at the mention of his long-suffering wife. I wonder if he's even had a chance to see her yet. "Last we spoke, she was perfectly fine. Misses you though. You need to come over for dinner soon."
An easy laugh leaves me. Winnie and John aren't the only ones who've been supporting me since Alex died. John's wife Marcie has been there every step of the way too, helping me through rough patches whenever John is away on deployments. And Winnie's never been anything but kind and understanding - it's not in her nature to be anything but.
"Soon," I mumble in agreement. There's a sound on the other end of the line in the background, a murmured snippet of conversation and a drawn-out groan followed by a soft shut up. "Not alone?"
"Got some company," John admits. "Speaking of... does Winslow still have that big trip coming up?"
My palms slick with sweat. Yes. Yes, she does.
Ever since her big promotion six months ago, Winnie's job now involves a lot more travelling than it used to. And - because of that - in three days' time, she'll be in France, starting a month-long assignment helping a struggling marketing firm in Paris.
And I'll be alone.
It doesn't bother me as much as it used to, but I've always had this thing about being alone. It's part of the reason why I live with Winnie; why I've been seeing a therapist since I was sixteen; why I struggle to have normalcy. My current therapist thinks that it's a form of abandonment issues from being orphaned at a young age, which has led to my inability to maintain stable relationships. The therapist before that thought it was something completely different; that I seek to form attachments but wilfully don't, self-sabotaging and creating my own permanent sense of loneliness. But, my point is, I don't react anywhere near as badly to it as I did when I was a kid.
I still remember when I was fifteen and Alex left for his first deployment. I was still living with our maternal grandmother at the time, and I completely shut down. I holed up in my room for almost a whole month, refusing to speak and barely eating or sleeping. I could hardly function for worrying about him...
"Tali?"
I snap out of it. "Sorry. Yes."
"Could you... could I possibly bring some of my guys to your apartment? Just while Winslow is away. Our safehouse in the area has been taken out of action and we need somewhere to lay low for a little while."
My guys. The unit.
"What about your place?" My brow furrows. Surely Marcella wouldn't mind a few guests. She's calm and motherly and takes great pride in hosting. I'm sure she'd be in the element with them.
John clears his throat awkwardly. "Not an option. They don't know."
Ah. The brave, almighty Captain John Price still hasn't told his team that he's married. Typical.
I roll my eyes. "Okay. I hope you know that we're coming back to that later." A beat of silence passes. "How many people are we talking, John? Because it's a two-bedroom flat in London. It's spacious but it's hardly the Tardis."
He snorts out a dry laugh. "Only two. One of the lads is local so he's got family around here he can stay with. And there's some stuff I've got to get done, so I'll be hopping from base to base."
"Where are they going to sleep? Are they going to mind sharing a bed? Because the sofa is comfortable, but I know how you army guys are built..."
There's an awkward silence on Price's end as I hear him shifting around. It takes me a second to realise that he's covering his mouth against his phone's microphone. "Yeah... that's, um- that won't be an issue for them."
Oh.
Oh.
"Okay. Cool. I'll take them."
I wince. Why the fuck did I say cool? Of all the ways that I could respond and I choose that. Way to go, Tali.
"Are you sure that you're okay with this, Tali?" Price asks, his voice soft and encouraging. "If you aren’t, we can find something else-"
"Price, I'll take them in. Winnie leaves on Tuesday morning, so just have them swing by around then, okay?"
Favour asked and questions answered, we say our goodbyes and hang up. It takes me a second to gather my thoughts before padding back into the living room. The moment I step through the hallway, Winslow pauses the TV, angling her head up to look at me. A cloud of black curly hair frames her beautiful face, dark eyes wide and expectant. "Is John back home?"
I wince, getting ready to launch into an explanation. "Not quite."
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Tuesday morning rolls around all too soon. By 9 a.m. I'm sitting cross-legged on the foot of Winnie's bed as she packs up her stuff. I can't help but feel a pang of anxiety strike deep in my chest.
"Are you sure that you're gonna be okay?" Winnie asks, almost like she can read my mind.
I meet her dark, knowing gaze and offer her a smile. "Winnie, I'll be fine. You don't need to worry about me. If I need anything, I can call Marcella."
She smiles, running a hand through her freshly braided hair. The pearls attached to some strands clink together softly. "Okay. Good. But you've got to call me once a week at least, okay?" Before I can reassure her that I will, she adds, "And you've got to text me every day."
"Winslow, I will. Stop stressing, please."
A moment of easy silence passes before the laughter starts. Both of us crack up, her eyes finding mine and holding my gaze.
Once we've both calmed down, I take a closer look at her cases. She's packing almost everything she owns. It's a sight that worries me, so I look away, deciding to look out of the window instead.
A loud, firm knock on the front door saves me just as Winnie is packing up her last suitcase. We exchange a look before I'm up on my feet, scrambling to answer it. I can't lie, I'm curious to meet John's friends. But I'm also sad. Because there's a strong possibility that they knew Alex too. That they were with him when he died.
When I open the door, there's two men standing in the hallway, just like John said there would be. The first has short brown hair styled into a mohawk, the sides cropped close to his scalp but the top and back left longer. He's broad-chested, muscular too; built like a grizzly bear. And, even though his complexion has a slightly pallid hue under the overhead lights, it's not hard to imagine that he's usually quite tan.
And then there's his friend. Standing next to the grizzly bear and at least half-a-foot taller than him, he has the expression of a man who wants to break me apart with his bare hands just to see what's inside. I fight to meet his intense gaze, taking catalogue of the features visible under the dark hood of his black sweatshirt. His eyes are hazel - I think - skin tanned from what I'd assume are long hours spent out in the sun, and I can't quite make out his hair colour. He's equally if not more muscular than his friendlier-looking counterpart. My eyes trail down to his mouth, drawn to the scar bisecting his bottom lip. It doesn't draw away from his attractiveness though; just adds to the sense of rugged charm that I'm getting from him.
Not that it should matter. It doesn't. They're here because they need help; not because they want to be ogled by a complete stranger.
"Are you John's friends?" I ask stupidly, as if they could be anyone else.
The grizzly bear nods. "Aye. And you are?"
Scottish. Nice. I've always loved the accent, but his is even better. There's a humour there; something uniquely his. It makes me want to keep him talking just so I can hear it more.
"Tali." I step back so that they can come inside. They hesitate for a second before following me into the living room, the tall, silent one closing the door behind him with a soft click. "Also John's friend."
The grizzly bear plops straight down onto the couch, stretching out with no hesitation and making himself at home. His arms drape over the backrest, a lazy grin forming on his lips as he watches me take a seat on my armchair. The tall one gives him a reprimanding look, hovering beside the window behind him. His light eyes are always alert; darting around the room like something's going to jump out at any second.
"You army?" he asks, expression wary. His voice is all gravel with a Manchester accent.
I offer him a small smile. "Nope." I don't think anyone could mistake me for a soldier. I'm small - short and slender - and skittish at the best of times. "So... what should I call you?"
Hazel eyes narrow at me. "Ghost."
The grizzly bear rolls his eyes dramatically, offering me a wide, disarming grin. It's blatantly obvious that he's overcompensating for him. "Callsign is Soap, but a pretty lass like you can call me Johnny."
My heart flutters.
It takes a second to remember what John had said on the phone. Sharing a bed won't be an issue for them. The awkward, implying tone he'd said it in. In other words, neither of them are meant for me.
Ghost eases away from the window to stand just behind the sofa, drawing closer to Johnny. Johnny, on the other hand, moves so that he's leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees as he cocks his head at me. "A friend of Captain Price, are ye?"
I nod softly. "Yes."
"Funny that," Ghost barks, tilting his head to one side. "He's never mentioned you." Thinly veiled suspicion drifts off of him in waves, and it makes me feel endlessly uncomfortable. His harsh gaze melts through my skin and bones, boring deep into my soul.
I shift in my seat. "He never mentioned either of you to me, so I don't think that counts for much."
Johnny lets out a loud laugh. "I think I'm gonna like ye, Tali. Not many people talk back to 'im."
It's in that moment - as I'm silently praying for the floor to open up and swallow me whole - that Winnie steps out of her room, suitcases in tow. She walks into the living room, depositing them by the front door before coming over to introduce herself, a sceptical look on her face.
She levels Ghost with an icy glare, not looking away from him as she asks me, "Everything all okay here, Tali?"
"Yeah, it's alright Winnie." I gesture to each of John's friends in turn. "Winnie, this is Johnny." He raises his hand and waves, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "And that is Ghost." I point to looming, ominous figure behind him.
"Ghost?" she repeats slowly. I nod. "Okay, well I'm leaving now. Tali, I love you and I'll miss you. Remember to call me." She bends at the waist to hug me, wrapping me up in her warm, vanilla-scented embrace. As she straightens, she glares at each of the men in turn. "And you two - don't give her any shit. If I find out you've made her feel uncomfortable even once, not even John will be able to save you. Got it?"
Johnny stares up at my friend, mystified. His blue eyes are bright as he nods. "Don't worry. We won't be any trouble."
Winnie turns back to face me. "Right, I've got to go or I'll miss my ride to the airport. I'll be back before you even know I'm gone, okay?"
"I know," I say, my voice soft. "I love you. Be safe and text me when you land."
With a nod, Winnie presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head then gets her last few bits together. And then she leaves. Leaving me alone with two complete strangers. Yay.
"So," I grumble, struggling against the urge to shy away from their intense gazes in the safety of my room, "do you want to see where you'll be staying?"
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Later that night, the three of us gather in the living room to watch TV.
The guys didn't have much to unpack. They travelled light so I'm going to have to go shopping sometime soon to buy them some essentials; more clothes and toiletries. Definitely food too. If dinner tonight was any indication, they eat a lot.
I'm curled up in my armchair again, watching something that Johnny chose on Netflix. Every once and a while, I glance across at them. Ghost is sitting upright, legs stretched out in front of him. His legs are so long that his feet are tucked under the coffee table. And then there's Johnny. He's laying on his side on the sofa, his head resting on Ghost's muscular thighs. Every now and then, Ghost's hand runs down the length of Johnny's side, stroking him in soothing, rhythmic motions.
Looking at them, I can't help but feel a sense of longing. Jealousy that they're together and obviously quite happy. That they're comfortable enough around one another for these subconscious displays of affection.
I'll never have that. It's something that I've come to accept. I'm twenty-five now and I've never had a serious relationship. I don't even think I want one. For a period of time in my late teens, I thought that I might be aro-ace, but over time I've gathered that I do feel romantic and sexual attraction. It's just different.
The sad truth is that I don't trust anyone enough to believe that they'd stay with me. Love me. Make me feel safe enough for displays of casual affection. There would always be that looming sense of dread that they'd leave me sooner or later.
In my head, I've justified it. If I don't get into relationships, no one can leave me. Alex's death all but solidified that for me.
The rom-com Johnny picked out gets to a comedic scene - a naked beach fight - and he starts to chuckle. I join him and I swear even Ghost lets out a little snort. We're all laughing until...
"Fuck. Johnny, you're bleeding."
My heart crawls up into my throat. My eyes snap across to them, blatantly looking now. The white t-shirt Johnny is wearing is plastered to his side, a red patch seeping through the fabric, spreading across his ribs.
He sits upright, holding it with one large hand. "Ah fuck. Didn't get any on the sofa, did ah'?"
"Fuck the sofa," I splutter out in a panic. "Are you okay? Why are you bleeding? Should I call an ambulance?"
Johnny looks back at me with a quizzical expression while Ghost just sighs, standing up. He walks towards the bedrooms at an unhurried pace, stopping along the way to press a chaste kiss to Johnny's forehead, placing a loving hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, darling, I'll get the bag." Hazel eyes swing towards me, where I'm still panicking in my armchair. "His dressing just needs changing, and I'll check his stitches. He's fine, love."
I ease back into my seat, heat rushing to my cheeks. "Oh."
Ghost leaves the room, heading into my bedroom to get the aforementioned bag. I've decided to give them my room for the duration of their stay because it has an en-suite. It eliminates the risk of me accidentally stumbling in on them in the shared bathroom that doesn't have a working lock. Overall, it's safer for everyone that I'm staying in Winnie's room.
Feeling more than a little foolish for my outburst, I offer Johnny a weak smile. "I'm going to go to bed now. Goodnight, Johnny."
"Ye sure?" he asks, blue eyes tinted with a hint of... something. Maybe disappointment? I don't know. "The movie isn't over yet. You seemed like ye were enjoying it." His brow furrows. "We could watch something else."
"I'm sure. It's fine; I'm just tired. We can watch another movie tomorrow night if you want."
His eyes light up at that. "Yeah, sounds perfect."
I'm back in Winnie's room by the time Ghost leaves mine. I can hear his footsteps padding down the hallway. Hear their muffled conversation and muted laughter.
As I fall asleep, I can't help but feel a different kind of loneliness. And, as I drift off, my heart aches for what Ghost and Johnny have.
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a/n: guess who's back! so Tali has finally met the boys :) sorry if this part is a little short, just wanted to get something out in time for christmas for you guys - merry christmas and take care of yourselves, lapetitelapin
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bullet-prooflove · 2 days ago
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Pause: Mitch Keller x Reader
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Tagging: @kmc1989 @dolphs-darling @Watermeezer @queenslandlover-93 @redpool
Companion piece to:
Her Name Was Lola - You meet Mitch's wife.
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Lola becomes the third wheel in your relationship. There’s been a war brewing between the two of you since she turned up in Tulsa, a silent one that’s waged every night she steps into the casino and sits herself at the bar.
“Why haven’t you banned her?” You ask, furiously wiping down the counter and Mitch sighs as he adjusts his cap.
“Because Sunny, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.” Mitch explained and you’d clenched your jaw so you didn’t bite back with something truly scathing.
You understand the sentiment behind it, Mitch wants that divorce and he wants it as soon as possible but having Lola here, it’s detrimental to your mental health. Part of you wants to claw her damn eyes out and the other part wants to sob, because the evidence of the promise that Mitch broke it’s staring you right in the face, wearing his class ring.
The only solace is those nights when you’re on stage. You sit up there strumming a tune,  singing your heart out and for a moment Mitch’s entire attention it’s focused on you. You can’t express how good that feels, to be the centre of his world again, the only woman he has eyes for. It’s gone the instant you step off because he’s back to Lola, pleading his case.
“I feel like we’re drifting apart a little.” You say to him later that night when everyone else is gone and the two of you are putting away the glasses. “I feel like you don’t see me anymore.”
“That’s not true, Sunny girl.” He sighs as he places his hand on the bar. “I just want this so badly.”
“Well maybe don’t.” You say, your fingertips hooking on the loops of his jeans and drawing him taut against you. “Maybe just enjoy the time we have together, without her and wait the year it takes.”
“Are you saying you don’t want to marry me?” He asks as he looks into your eyes and you can see the hurt reflected in them as your palms come to rest on his chest.
“I’m just saying put it on pause for now.” You tell him.
“Pause.” He repeats, his hands clasping yours to his heart. “We’ve been on pause before and it damn near ruined us. I want to move forward, I want to marry you-”
“I want that too but this situation, it’s not good for us.” You whisper as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “Mitch, I can’t…”
Your voice breaks and he closes his eyes, his nose bumping lightly against yours.
“Sunny.” He says firmly. “We are almost at the finish line.”
“No Mitch, you’re almost at the finished line.” You say pushing him away. “I fell behind ten miles ago but you’ve just been too focused on the goal to notice.”
“Sunny…” He begins but you’re already drawing away from him.
“I have to go.” You say, picking up your guitar case. “I can’t be here right now.”
You leave then and Mitch, he lets you because he knows better than to follow you when you get that resigned tone in your voice. When he gets home that night the lights are off and there’s no trace of you, he realises there’s clothes missing, the overnight bag you usually take on tour.
It’s happening again, he realises. You’re leaving him because Mitch, he just doesn’t fucking listen. He hasn’t been hearing what you’ve been trying to say to him for weeks, you can’t cope with Lola being in his life, you can’t stand to see another woman with his ring on her finger.
You pick up when he calls, he hears the sound of traffic in the background and he knows you’ve already left Tulsa.
“Where you headed?” He asks despondently as he leans back against the door frame of the bedroom, his gaze fixed on the bed he's sleeping alone in tonight.
“Dallas.” You say softly. “There’s a couple of places down there that will give me a gig. Probably Houston after that, Memphis, Nashville.”
It feels like you’ve plunged a knife into his chest. With each stop you get further away from him and Mitch isn’t sure that you’ll ever come back.
“Will you come home Sunny?” He pleads, his voice breaking as he says the words “Please?”
“No Mitch.” You say, and he hears the resolution in your voice. “No, I can’t.”
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cumikering · 1 year ago
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Alex Keller x reader 2
2.7k | soft smut, subby Alex, thigh riding, mutual masturbation
Alex is a morning person (part 1) (part 3)
Second submission to @glitterypirateduck ’s Alex Keller challenge (don’t look at me like that, if I asked you to stay would you)
You looked up to Alex jerking awake. He had dozed off on your couch within the ten minutes you went to make some tea after your movie date.
You sat on the other end of the couch, comfy in your t-shirt and sweats. “I know you’re a morning person, but it’s not even that late,” you teased, moving your laptop to the coffee table next to his cold cup of tea.
He blinked away the slumber. “Oh, uhh… Sorry, I guess work was extra busy today.”
“You should go. Get proper rest.” You scooted over and patted his inked forearm.
Despite the weight of his eyelids, he wasn’t ready to leave yet. He contemplated asking to stay the night on the couch, but he didn’t want to be too forward, and so Alex accepted his defeat.
He didn’t expect anything from you, especially not this early into dating, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t want it. Because right then, he shamelessly fantasised about taking you home instead, about you in his shirt as you made coffee in his kitchen in the morning sun. He'd wrap his arms around you from behind, greeting you with a kiss on your bite-covered neck.
“I want to see you more often. On the weekdays, even just for an hour or two.”
“I’d love that.” You smiled, getting up and pulling him by the hand. “Okay, off you go now. I don’t want you falling asleep on the way home.”
He followed with a small laugh. At the door, you gave him a kiss so sweet that he couldn’t help but be cheesy and dip you. The gasp and giggle you let out gave him the determination to do just one more thing before he gave in to sleep.
Alex stayed true to his words. Over the next few weeks, a date each weekend turned to meeting at least twice a week. It included picking you up from work to have dinner at yours before leaving with a pout when you told him to go at the end of each night.
That evening when you got in his car, your greeting kiss couldn’t have come sooner. It had only been a few days and he’d already missed you. He stole glances as he helped boil some pasta while you did the chopping, humming along to the low music filling the air. The activity was so serene that his mind floated to imagine more days like so, at his place, which would have been much livelier with you.
You giggled against his lips when he pulled you in for a kiss. He could get used to this.
He volunteered to clean up as you showered after dinner - the least he could do after the delicious meal you’d made. You came out of the bathroom smelling so soft and sweet, wearing a comfortable shirt and shorts.
You plopped down on the couch next to him, your arm over the backrest, propping yourself up as you faced him. “You sure you don’t need to go yet, early bird?” Your teasing smile was back.
He laughed, bringing your knuckles against his lips. “Not yet. Still want to be with you, need to kiss you some more.”
In one swift move, you straddled him. Alex’s heart went from 0 to 100 as you guided his hands to your waist. In awe, he looked up to your bashful smile as your hands rested on his chest. You must have felt the pounding of his chest under your fingertips.
Spellbound, his wide palms travelled down the side and back of your smooth thighs, taut as they held you up. He went back up greedily, wanting to feel every curve as his pants tightened. His fingers slipped under your shorts, revealing more of your thighs, the very thighs he’d spent too many hours thinking of. Catching the hem of your shirt as he went further up, he could feel how impossibly soft your skin was after your shower, how your hips narrowed to your waist.
He made a noise. He didn’t know if it was a moan, but you couldn’t get any more attractive. You’d been such a tease, with your little gasps and playful smiles and the way you held his gaze, that a little strip of your belly was enough to send him reeling.
It didn’t help that your body wash smelt so inviting. His grip on you tightened, enjoying how his fingertips dug into your flesh, hauling you up against him as his warm mouth met your hip. With a gasp, you grabbed the back of the couch, body jerking towards him. His mouth, wet and hungry, travelled up your side, licking and nipping. The sounds of his kisses filled the room followed by your pretty, soft moans. When he looked up, he met your hooded eyes and parted lips.
“God, you’re so beautiful.” He pressed his cheek against your collarbone as he throbbed to your heartbeat. “I’ll never be able to leave. Not when you make me feel this way.”
You let out a sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck. You rubbed your cheek on his forehead, stroking his hair.
His hands gingerly ran down your back, unsure where the limit was. “Do to me what you want. I just want to be yours,” he said, almost a plea.
Your gaze stayed on him as you sat back on his thighs. You unbuttoned his shirt – it was a pleasant surprise that made his breath stutter, but he didn’t resist. His skin burnt the more buttons you undid, his heart swelling in anticipation at the way your eyes darkened.
“Do you think we need to talk about this first?”
“Oh- sorry,” you mumbled, embarrassed. You pulled his shirt close over his chest.
“I just… don’t want to be too forward, or make you do anything you don’t want to.”
“You’re right. I’ve never even asked if you wanted-”
“Trust me. I want to, with you. I’ve fantasised about this so many times,” he said breathlessly.
The glint was back in your eye. “Is it?”
“Way more than I’d like to admit. I love thinking about you.”
“What about?” You ran a finger down his exposed chest.
“Will you be mad if they’re dirty?”
“I’m not sure. You have to tell me.” You continued undoing the rest of his buttons.
“Ok, well…” he trailed off, distracted by how close you were to his face before you finally leaned in, your sweet lips on his. His eyes closed as he sank into the sensation.
“Bed,” you whispered.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Without missing a beat, he wrapped your legs around his waist before bringing you up with him, arms securing your body against his. You gasped into his mouth, the sound excited him further.
He reluctantly broke the kiss as he laid you on the bed, but before he could get on top of you, you took his shirt off and rolled him onto his back.
You climbed over him again, kissing down his neck, along his collarbones and across his toned chest, gripping his biceps. “You’re delicious, Alex,” you said against the other side of his neck.
Your hot breath sent another jolt straight to his cock.
“Come closer,” he huffed as he pulled you down to him.
You hummed when your clothed pussy pressed against his bulge. Could feel him throbbing for you?
He brought your fingertips up to his lips. “You keep doing this to me. You’re my favourite thing to think about.”
You grinded on him with your hands on his chest, head thrown back with your eyes shut. He grabbed your hip, thankful for the rather soft fabric of his pants as his tip rubbed deliciously against your clit. With the gentle moans escaping your lips, he couldn’t help but move his hips up to meet you too.
He groaned in pleasure, now slipping both his hands under your shirt, guiding you by the waist.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed.
You sat back on his thighs, hands trailing down his torso. His hard cock had pushed his waistband off his skin, offering you a glimpse of what was under. You pulled at his belt and pants, revealing a wet patch where the tip of his cock strained against his underwear.
Alex breathed nervously as he watched you. Glancing up at your face, you had your lip between your teeth. You ran a finger down his length over the fabric, sending shivers down his back, before palming him. He sucked in a sharp breath, hips bucking under your touch. You continued as you kissed down his stomach.
“How do you know this is what I like to think about?”     
You smiled against his skin and looked up from under your lashes. “What else do you think about?”
“I’m too embarrassed to say,” he said helplessly.
“I like thinking about you too.”
You pulled his underwear down, freeing his thick cock. Your thumb swiped over his leaking tip and began stroking, eyes trained on him.
“Fuck,” he hissed. He twitched in your hand, the eye contact made him impossibly hot. He gripped your wrist. “I want to make you feel good too, want to make you moan my name.”
“How?”
“Any way you want me to. I’ll do whatever you want. I’m yours.”
“Can I ride you?”
“Fuck yes. Whatever you want.”
You stripped him down before he helped take your shirt and shorts off. Alex watched, biting his lower lip, as you pulled your underwear past your ankles. You left your cotton lounge bra on.
Alex scooted back up against the headboard, a pillow behind him. He wasn’t going to miss the show.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you teased as you crawled over him, your sopping pussy warm on his thigh.
He chuckled, grabbing you by the hips. “Negative, ma’am. You’re my favourite thing to look at.”
He cupped your face as you began rocking and he flexed his muscles for you to grind on. You leaned into his touch with a shy smile when his thumb brushed against your lower lip. You caught his thumb between your teeth and began sucking.
You wrapped his hand around himself and began stroking over it. His breath hitched as the pleasure washed over his body. He continued stroking as you picked up your pace, grabbed the headboard for support.
Your juices ran down the side of his thighs as you continued rocking on him. The sight increasingly sexual as you moaned with his thumb in your mouth, head thrown back. You held his gaze for a few moments at a time before shutting your eyes in pleasure again, but Alex couldn’t take his eyes off you at all. At this point, he was too entranced to continue touching himself.
He could see the slick mess you made each time you slid back. Your loosely tied hair had undone itself somewhere along the way, leaving your hair around your face. He was addicted to the sweet sounds of your pants and the squelching of your folds against him. How your tits bounced with the motion, your hardened nubs visible under the soft fabric, begging to be sucked. You were a feast to his eyes.
“Take it off,” you said between moans.
Alex didn’t need to be told twice. He tossed your bra aside with a content sigh. You were perfect. He brushed away the hair on your face and you hastily put his pointer and middle finger in your mouth, sucking them.
He groaned, your eyes never leaving his. “I want to make you feel good. I want you to moan my name.” He picked up his pace, his fist never felt so good before.
You moaned mindlessly around his fingers.
He replaced his fingers with his mouth, kissing you deeply before grabbing your waist. “What can I do?”
You shook your head, the heat building low in your belly. “Already so fucking good,” you managed to say.
He gripped your hips, kneading, wanting to feel every inch of you as he helped you rock on him.
“I’m close, Alex,” you choked out between moans. With a sharp breath, you bit his shoulder gently to stifle yourself.
“Yes, yes. Please come for me. Come on me. Let me hear you.”
Your moans grew louder, calling out his name, your movements ragged in the urgency. You inched closer and closer to your release before finally coming with rough thrusts, his name still on your lips
“You’re perfect,” he said as you came down from your bliss. He smiled, brushing your hair away from your pretty face once more.
You buried your face in the crook of his neck, lightly blushing. Your heart raced against his chest. “I hope I wasn’t too loud.”
“No, you should have been louder. Fuck, that was sexy as hell.” He took your chin, capturing your lips in a slow kiss.
“Let’s get you off,” you said, scooting backwards. For a split second he thought you were going to wrap your sweet, sweet lips around his aching cock, but they landed on his hip instead. He leaked at the anticipation.
You peppered small kisses across his stomach as it rippled in desire, all the way to his other hip and pelvis. You were so damn close. He hoped he wasn’t imagining it that you leaned in as you looked up, your cheek brushing slowly along his throbbing length. The warmth of your breath made him shiver.
You straddled him again, your soaked pussy pressing against the base of his heavy cock. He could feel the heat, the slick running down his balls. You must have tasted wonderful.
“Fuck,” he pleaded. “I want to touch you.”
“Touch where?”
“Everywhere you allow me to.” He leaned up, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush to him. He twisted your face to the side, giving open-mouthed kisses on your exposed neck.
Alex went up and up, now sucking and licking your lower lip. You let out a moan, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his hot tongue against yours. Your hand slipped between your bodies to stroke his cock that had been begging for your attention.
He knew he wasn’t going to last very long, not when his body felt like it had been on the brink of orgasm since you kissed him on the couch. But he was still going to try to hold on, desperately not wanting the moment to pass.
“That feels so good,” he breathed. “You always make things better.”
Your tongue trailed along his collarbones, making him groan. You nipped at his shoulder, moving up his neck. You caught the quiet moan that slipped from his lips and began stroking faster. Your lips travelled further, kissing and licking at his jaw and up to his earlobe.
His body tensed, chest heaving under you. You didn’t let up as you ran your wet tongue along the cuff of his ear. He let out another moan as your touch got unbearably delicious, bringing him closer and closer to his release.
“I want to make you come, Alex.”
His hips bucked as his grip tightened on you. Your dirty whisper was his last straw. “Fuck,” he grunted, panting.
His cock twitched as he spewed up ropes of come onto his stomach. You kept stroking, letting him ride out his high, slowing down to a stop when the flexing eased.
“Holy fuck,” he said breathlessly. His eyes travelled down to the mess he made on your hand. “Sorry,” he mumbled and straining under you to reach the box of tissues on the nightstand.
You beat him to it and helped him clean up while his eyes stayed on you, at how gentle you were, your eyes soft. He kissed your knuckles as his heart exploded. You smiled at him and he tipped your chin up to capture your lips.
Facing each other, you lay wordlessly on your side, getting lost in his blue eyes as he held your hand against his lips. His finger traced mindlessly over your curves as his eyelids grew heavy, but he forced them open.
“You sure you don’t need to go yet?” you teased.
“I need to, but I really, really don’t want to.”
You cupped his face, thumb stroking his bearded cheek. “If I asked you to stay, would you?”
“Yes,” he answered too quickly.
“Just so you know, clothes are optional in my bed.”
He flashed you a smile. “Wasn’t planning to wear any.”
Taglist: @sofasoap @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot
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multi-fxndom446 · 1 year ago
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You came? You called. Pt3
Scenario: Konig, Keegan Russ and Alex Keller
Final part!!! I was gonna wait till tomorrow but honestly I’m impatient.
Again if y’all want closure or a part 2 or a specific fic for one character pleaseeeee let me know (someone already requested Rudy, love that person with my whole heart)
And I just wanted to say again that I wrote these with the intention that you havent confessed yet or haven’t yet ended up together but take it however you will!:)
Part One Part Two
~~
Konig
Warning: explosion, injury, enemies to…
Dude I google translated for this man and am still not 100% sure it’s right
He didn’t know how it got to this point. It started with a collection of small arguments between you and him.
You usually the one to start it when he did something that would piss you off. Since the beginning he had been underestimating you, keeping you from missions just because he had the authority to do so.
It was safe to say you hated him. After one too many times of him keeping you from doing your job all because he didn’t believe you could.
It’s why you stood here now trying to contain a self satisfying smirk when you were told you would be going on a mission to retrieve someone they had been searching for for a long time.
You were told it was a discreet mission so smaller numbers and you felt pretty happy up until the moment Konig stepped further into the room, his eyes as calculating as ever.
“The colonel will be joining you.” You didn’t even try to hide the frown adorning your face. “A few others will be on standby for extraction.”
Then you were dismissed and you left immediately to get ready and to avoid having another argument with your colonel. It was the last thing you needed right now.
You couldn’t stand him any other time but you were thankful that when it came to missions he entered a zone that completely shut everything else out.
The only thing that mattered to him was the mission.
Konig watched you enter the plane already in the mindset for war. He knew if you could do that then so could he even if the last thing he wanted was for you to be on this mission. Especially with so little soldiers joining but he didn’t have much say.
The mission was going good until it wasn’t. He didn’t know how it got to this point.
He shouted at you, told you to pull back the moment he had the man in custody but you ran into the safe house with the promise of more intel.
He hated you for this, for your need to prove yourself to him. He guessed it was his fault that it was this way. If only you knew you didn’t need to prove anything to him, he already trusted you with his life. He just didn’t know if you trusted him with yours.
“Y/n! Get out!” He shouted into the comms shoving the man he had grabbed into the arms of the soldiers that were there for extraction. “Scheisse!” He shouted when he turned back to the house.
He could hear gunshots on your side but you wouldn’t speak to him. “Scheiße!” He turned back to the men. “Give me your ammo.” He demanded, quickly grabbing it from their hands.
“Konig!” His heart froze completely when finally your voice came through followed by a bomb going off. “Colonel!!”
Any ammo that didn’t make it into his gun or pockets dropped to the ground as he immediately turned and started running towards the house.
You were overrun. You honestly thought you could sneak in and get what you needed but you didn’t anticipate this many men.
You almost felt bad that this probably would ruin the mission but all you could think about was the pain in your leg and the smoke in your lungs as the house started catching fire. Your plea for your colonel falling heavy on your tongue.
You honestly thought he’d leave you. He didn’t like you, he had the man in question so what a perfect opportunity to leave you for dead.
You almost succumbed to the thought of your death when you faintly heard more gunshots and the pounding of feet.
You were clutching your leg and coughing when you finally looked up to see the giant man that was your Colonel. “Konig.” You wheezed out “You came.”
He didn’t even blink just kneeled down next to you to get a good angle at which he could pick you up. His eyes softening in the slightest when you cried out. “You called.”
You could only stare at him in shocked silence as he carried you out of the burning building, past all the bodies of the soldiers he shot just to get to you.
~
Keegan P. Russ
Warning: none really it’s actually kinda cute. Second chances???👀
(I am very sorry if he is more OOC then the rest I haven’t played ghosts yet)
It was a moment of weakness on your part really and you wished instantly that you could take it back.
You had gone two months with no contact and you planned to keep it that way you really did. You wanted to keep it that way out of respect for him but all it took was a few drinks and a lonely night before you were calling his number.
Of course it went straight to voicemail because why would you expect anything less?
You contemplated hanging up as the voicemail message started playing through. The sober part of you told you to hang up, to block him before he saw the notification on his end but the drunk part of you just needed to say something.
You missed him desperately and though you weren’t proud to admit it you left him a voicemail. The words tumbled out of your mouth as soon as the beep sounded. “Keegan.” You sniffed. “I’m so sorry for anything I’ve ever done.”
You don’t remember much of anything else you said by the time you hung up. You vaguely recall telling him you missed him and wished he was there with you but your brain couldn’t even care by the time you made it to your bed and you all but collapsed on it sleep overtaking you immediately.
You weren’t lying you did miss him. He was a good man to you and you knew in the end it was a mutual agreement to end things between you. It didn’t mean it hurt any less, especially knowing the love was still there it was just his job that hardly allowed him to see you.
It was only for that reason that you tried to respect his wishes to keep distance. You knew he was most likely on a mission anyways and wouldn’t hear that message for awhile, so you slept soundly deciding to deal with your decision tomorrow.
Your decision to leave a voicemail came back to bite you in the ass only a few hours later when someone pounded on your door frantically.
You almost ignored it but the person was insistent. So you dragged yourself from your bed and to the door, holding your head that was nursing a new headache.
You opened it without much thought but froze the moment your eyes connected with those striking blue ones you hadn’t seen in months.
“Keegan..you-“ your hand fell to your side as you took him in. It was then your brain finally caught up and the things you said in the voicemail started coming back. “You came.”
“You called.” He stated it as he stared at you as well. He seemed out of breathe as if he ran to your apartment.
You stood in a staring match with each other just taking the other in as memories started to come back to you and your cheeks flared in embarrassment.
Sober you now remembered you apologizing to him profusely, telling him you missed him, telling him you hated him for leaving but loved him all at the same time. You remembered the way you told him you just wanted to see him more than anything.
“I-“ he tried to start but no words seemed appropriate for this situation. His eyes held everything he wanted to say but couldn’t. “I got worried when I heard your message. I thought something might’ve happened.”
It was then you noticed him in his gear still. “Did you come straight here from base?!”
“I came straight here from the mission we just finished.” He explained like it was simple. You whispered his name and he took a step closer. “You said you hated me did you mean it?”
You swallowed. “No.”
“You said you loved me too. Did you mean that?”
“Always.”
~~
Alex Keller
Warning: hurt that’s lowkey it
(This is another Rudy situation idk why I did my man’s like this so I’m hoping someone wants a part two😭)
“I may have someone that can help.” Alex avoided Farah’s gaze as the sentence left his mouth. “If she answers..”
“Who is it?” She asked hesitantly. “Please tell me not an ex.”
“No! No just a really close friend. She just may be a little upset with me.” He uttered as he pulled out his phone to try and get in contact with you. “Maybe a little more than upset.”
He never was able to get ahold of you but he got ahold of Price who went to you and instantly you were loaded into the car with him and Gaz as they headed to where Alex was.
You hated how you would drop anything to help him. You always had.
When you got to the location price and Gaz were the first to get out of the vehicle followed by you when you knew it was safe to do so, also to avoid Alex seeing you for as long as possible.
Farah was the first to greet you as you exited the vehicle. Price and Gaz leaving to go meet up with Alex. “You must be Y/n. Alex spoke very highly of you.” You shook the hand she held out to you with a tight smile.
“I wish I could say I’ve heard a lot about you but Alex hasn’t really said anything to me the last few weeks.” Farah shifted on her feet awkwardly as you realized your words. “I’m sorry, I’m glad I can be of some help to you Farah.”
Farah nodded with a small smile before she looked back at where the captain and Alex were. “I’m not sure what happened between you both but I can assure you there’s nothing-“
“Nothing happened between us.” You cut her off before she could even finish her sentence. You already knew what she was wanting to say but you were telling the truth you were only upset with Alex for leaving you in the dark.
“Y/n!” the man himself called out to you when he finally realized you were only a little ways away talking with Farah.
Farah sent you one last nod. “I’ll leave you two.” Then practically sped walked away to get away from whatever may happen next.
“You came!”
He had a smile on his face one that you were sure couldn’t be dwindled by your less then enthusiastic response of, “you called.”
“I didn’t know if you would come. My calls wouldn’t go through.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly but your frown stayed firmly planted.
“Oh why would you think that? Because you dropped off the face of the earth without a word? Then you call me out of nowhere asking me to come help you and the women you’ve been on mission with this whole time? Someone I’ve heard next to nothing about?” He winced at your words. He knew you weren’t even mad about Farah but about how he’s done this on more than one occasion.
Dropping off the face of the earth only to turn up a few weeks later asking for your help. He knew it upset you because you had basically been partners in crime since joining the military together.
“Y/n-“
“I’ll be honest Alex. I only came because the Captain asked me and because I want to help Farah and her people. But you and I-“ you jabbed a finger in his direction. “Are not okay.”
Alex watched you walk away with a frown. Farah caught his eye from just behind you and she raised an eyebrow at him in a look that felt like she was scolding him before she too shook her head and turned away.
(Alex Part Two here: Pretty like the sun)
~~
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blue-labcoat · 1 year ago
Text
You're not broken
summary: reader and spencer experience a miscarriage due to ectopic pregnancy
genre: angst, 2.3k
warnings: mentions of pregnancy, ectopic pregnancy, miscarriage, ambulances/hospitals, surgery, mentions of infertility
series masterlist here
a/n: me, updating this series after how long?? anyways, this was written with the information i could find on the internet about ectopic pregnancy and recovery, so it may not be totally accurate! read at your own discretion
A sharp pain in my abdomen woke me up. I could immediately tell that something was off - I was lightheaded and the pain in my lower stomach was getting worse.
“Spencer,” I whispered, reaching over to shake him awake.
“Hm,” he muttered, rolling over. I shook him harder.
“Something’s wrong, Spence. I don’t feel good, I think you should take me to the hospital.”
His eyes snapped open. “Are you serious? What's wrong?”
“I don't know. I can just tell that something's wrong, and I - ah!” I gasped out as another bolt of pain passed through my abdomen. “I'm in pain. And I- I don't know. I'm lightheaded. Something's just wrong.”
“Okay, it's going to be alright,” he said, getting up and walking over to my side of the bed to help me out. He pulled the covers off of me to help me get up, and gasped.
"Oh my god," he said softly, worry clouding his eyes. I followed his line of sight down to the sheets. There was a large bloodstain under my hips.
“Is that your period?” He asked. I shook my head, panic filling my chest. “Okay, let's get you to the hospital. C'mon, I'll help you to the car.”
I could hear in Spencer's voice that he was trying to stay calm for my sake, but I could see my own panic mirrored on his face. I stood up, and suddenly the room was blurry and spinning around me. I could feel my back getting clammy, and my heart was pounding in my ears. I fell against Spencer's chest, and felt him catch me and lay me back down on the bed.
I was drifting in and out of consciousness - I heard Spencer talking to someone, then I was somewhere with a bright fluorescent light shining over my head. The last thing I remembered was Spencer leaning over me, tears streaming down his cheeks.
---
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I opened my eyes slowly. “That noise is really annoying,” I muttered, closing my eyes again. It was too bright.
“She's waking up,” I heard someone saying. I didn't recognize the voice. I blinked my eyes open again, squinting so that I could take in my surroundings. I was in a hospital bed, with an IV sticking out of my arm.
“Spencer,” I called when I noticed him standing near the door.
“Hey, baby,” he greeted, coming over to stand next to me. “How are you feeling?”
“I - tired. What happened?”
Spencer's eyebrows drew together with concern, and he pressed his lips together. “The nurse is sending your doctor down to talk to you. She should be here in a minute.” He took my hand in his and squeezed it tightly, leaning in to press a kiss to my forehead.
Not long after, the woman who I assumed was my doctor came in.
“Good morning, Dr y/l/n,” she greeted me. “I'm Dr Keller. How are you feeling?”
“Tired, and confused. And please, call me y/n,” I replied, smiling politely.
“Alright, y/n. Unfortunately, I have some bad news for you. When you came in last night, you were suffering from some very heavy bleeding, and we eventually determined that you were miscarrying an ectopic pregnancy.”
“Miscarry- no, that can't be right,” I told her, shaking my head. “I'm not pregnant.”
“It's possible that you didn't know about the pregnancy - your partner didn't either, obviously, when he came with you in the ambulance. But, the ruptured fallopian tube was what was causing your pain and blood loss. Your fallopian tube was ultimately too damaged to salvage, so we had to remove it along with the ectopic tissue.”
My lip quivered. “I was pregnant?”
She nodded. “I'm so sorry, y/n. We can discuss in more detail what this means for you once you’ve gotten some rest. I’m going to give you two a minute, and I’ll be back shortly in case you have any more questions, ok?” She left, and I burst into tears.
“I know, baby, I know,” Spencer soothed, crawling into the hospital bed beside me. I tucked my head under his chin and wrapped my arm around his torso as best I could.
“I - this is silly of me. I didn't even know I was pregnant, I shouldn't be so upset about losing something that I didn't even know I had,” I blubbered.
“It's okay to cry, y/n,” Spencer reminded me. “It's a loss like any other, and it's important that you grieve however you need to. We need to grieve.”
I cried even harder at his words. We had talked about how we both wanted kids at some point, but we hadn't discussed when. I knew how much Spencer wanted to be a dad. And yet, here I was, missing a fallopian tube.
“I'm sorry, Spence. I-” I paused, not even knowing what to say.
“It's okay,” he said softly, knowing what I was trying to say. “It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault. We don't need to talk about it right now if you don't want, okay?”
I nodded, squeezing him tighter against me.
---
Two days later, I was discharged from the hospital and Spencer took me home. I was supposed to stay home for at least another week, but I wasn't ready to talk about it with Millie yet so I just sent her my doctor's note and told her that I wouldn't be in until I was feeling better.
“Did you want me to stay home with you tomorrow?” Spencer asked while we were eating supper. I shrugged.
“You don't have to,” I replied, looking down at my food and pushing it around on my plate.
“That's not what I asked,” he said gently, reaching over to lift my chin. “Y/n, this is happening to both of us, you know that, right? I just want to be here for you.”
“I know, Spence, I’m sorry,” I replied, finally looking up at him. “I just don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with something like this. And, I know this is hard for you, too, and I want to be here for you like you are for me, but I just feel so… heartbroken. I mean, we might never be able to have a baby now, Spencer. I’m broken, and nothing can fix it.” I set down my fork and willed the tears that were beginning to form away.
“Hey, hey,” Spencer cooed, pulling me into a hug against his chest. “You are not broken, do you understand me? You could never be broken. I know you’re scared, and I know you’re upset, but I need you to understand that this is in no way your fault. I love you no matter what, right?”
I nodded against his chest, wiping my tears away on his sweater.
“Besides, we haven’t even really talked yet about having children yet. I’m not saying that a baby wouldn’t have been a good thing, but it sure would have been a surprise! The other thing to remember too, honey, is that there are lots of different ways to have children. And when we do eventually have a kid together, we are going to love them so fucking much that it won’t even matter how they became a part of our lives.
“Just promise me you won’t push me away because of this, okay? I want you to take the time you need to recover from this, physically and emotionally, but I want to be a part of that recovery. We’re going to get through this together.”
I could hear him starting to get choked up. I lifted my head up to look at him, giving him a weak smile. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” I told him. “I love you so much, Spence.”
“I love you too. Now. Try eating a little bit more, and then maybe we can crawl into bed early and cuddle for a bit before we go to sleep. Sound good?”
I hummed in agreement and turned back to my plate. “You can go to work tomorrow. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I’ll get caught up on my knitting, finish that book… it’ll be good.”
Spencer responded by leaning over and giving me a quick peck on the cheek.
---
The next morning, Spencer left on time, giving me a kiss and gentle hug goodbye and whispering ‘I love you’ while I was still in bed.
When I got up a few hours later, the incision from my surgery was sore. I hobbled to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, and was planning on returning to bed when I heard a knock at the door. Before opening it, I checked through the peephole only to find JJ on the other side.
“Hey, JJ,” I greeted her, opening the door and stepping back gingerly.
“Hi, y/n, is… Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, what do you mean?”
“Nothing, you just… never mind. Um, is Spencer here?”
My instinctual reaction was panic. Spencer had gone to work. He was supposed to be at work.
“No, he left for work at his normal time this morning. Didn’t he show up?”
“He did, but he left because he said that you needed him to come home. He didn’t say why, but he wasn’t at work very long.” She paused for a moment, looking at me closely. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I…” I wasn’t sure if I wanted anyone to know that I had miscarried. I had asked Spencer the night before not to tell anyone, and I wasn’t very close with JJ, but she was a mother. I suppose if anyone was going to understand, it would be her. “Can I tell you something, but can you not tell anyone?”
“Of course,” she replied, brows furrowing. “Did you want me to come in? I don’t have to, but-”
“Yeah, of course,” I interrupted, opening the door wider and stepping aside so that she could come in.
We sat down on the couch a few feet apart. I knew that JJ had been Spencer’s best friend before we met, but I’d never really gotten close with her.
“I had a miscarriage three days ago,” I told her after a short silence, looking down at my hands clasped in my lap, blurry from the tears that were starting to press on the back of my eyes. “I didn’t even know I was pregnant, we- we weren’t even trying or anything. It just hit me kind of hard, and they told me that I might not be able to get pregnant again, and I just… I didn’t even realize it was something that I wanted until I couldn’t have it, y’know?”
“Oh my god, y/n, I’m so sorry,” JJ said, reaching out to hold my hand. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“I don’t think so,” I sniffled. “I didn’t mean to ambush you with this, I don’t even know why I wanted to tell you. I think I just needed to tell someone, just to get it out there?”
“I know what you mean.” JJ gave me a sympathetic smile. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want, but I had a miscarriage too. When I was overseas.”
“You did?”
She nodded.
“If you, um, don’t mind me asking, how did you get over it?”
“To be completely honest, it’s not really something you get over. I guess grief is different for everyone, but I find myself thinking every now and then about who that little baby might have grown up to been, or how my life would be different.”
---
JJ stayed for a few hours, talking at first with me about the miscarriage, but then just chatting. When she left, my mind went back to the hospital, the doctor’s words replaying over and over again in my mind. JJ being here had helped, though. I just had to get my mind of things for a little while until the wound wasn’t so fresh, and I could think through it. I turned on Gilmore Girls and decided to bake some cupcakes.
There was third batch of cupcakes in the oven and I was frosting the first when I heard Spencer’s key turning in the lock. I paused the tv and called out to greet him.
“Hey, honey,” he said, setting his bag down and walking into the kitchen. “It smells really good in here, but are you sure you’re getting enough rest like the doctor said?”
I gave him a peck on the cheek. “I had enough rest this morning. JJ came over and we chatted for a bit, but when she left I wanted to get my mind off it, so I’m making cupcakes. I’m almost done so I can rest after while I’m eating them.”
“I see,” replied Spencer, scooping some frosting out of the bowl and licking it off his finger. “Are you sure you’re okay, y/n? I mean, this was a big deal, and I don’t expect you to just move – ”
“I’m okay, Spence. I mean, not completely, but I’m managing okay and I know that it will hurt less with time. I just need to get there, so,” I gestured vaguely at the kitchen, “Cupcakes.”
“Okay, I’m glad. Promise you’ll let me know if you need anything?”
“I promise, Spence. Now, stop eating the icing and go sit in the living room. I’ll bring you a cupcake when they’re done.”
He dipped his finger back into the bowl one last time, giving me an impish grin before walking over to the couch. “I love you, y/n.”
304 notes · View notes
soaps-mohawk · 8 months ago
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 13: Piece Me Back Together
Summary: Your pack deals with the aftermath of your heat.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, Ghost x Soap
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, handjobs, anal fingering, anal sex, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex irl), spanking (it’s like once), choking (kind of), light Dom/sub dynamics, Johnny's praise kink, excessive use of the word cock, heat cycles, mating cycles, brief mention of blood, brief medical stuff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, and of course a little fluff
A/N: Well folks, we've made it past the heat portion of the fic. Now things can really start moving. Lots of aftercare, some world building, and of course a little spice at the end for you all to enjoy (as if the last chapter wasn't enough lol). I tried to catch all the possible tags for this one but as always, let me know if I missed one. The smut happens in the very last scene, so if you'd prefer not to read it, then skip that last little bit. You won't really miss much. Also, there's a lot of jumping around in time in this one so I tried to mark when things are happening relative to the present moment in the fic.
Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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6 Days Ago
“Looks comfortable.” 
Kyle glances up as Johnny closes the door to his room, blanket and pillow in hand. “Slept on worse.” He shrugs, glancing down at the cot set up in the hallway before looking back up at Johnny. “Moving out?” 
“Camping in Si’s office for the next week. Keep our distance.” He nods at the closed door. 
“Probably for the best.” Kyle says. “Have fun!” 
“Don’t enjoy yourself too much.” Johnny winks at him before making his way down the hallway and disappearing around the corner. 
Kyle shakes his head, starting to sort through the many bags of supplies they’ve stocked up on in preparation for their omega’s heat. They’re well prepared, all of them, for the next week, Kyle especially. He’s spent the last few days reading up on what to expect, how to best help and support his alpha and omega, and what to look out for in case things start going wrong. He doesn’t think they will. He has a lot of faith in Price and he knows Price will take good care of their omega. 
Still, he can’t help but feel a bit nervous. He has a big job to do, even though there’s not much to do until after the heat is over with. He just has to ensure Price doesn’t hurt you accidentally, or maul you to death. He doesn’t think that’s likely to happen, but then again, one can never know. 
Kyle lets out a shaky breath, grabbing the bags with the electrolytes and nutrient bars before heading for your door. 
It’s going to be a long week. 
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Present Day
It’s quiet. Has been for almost an hour now. Kyle rises from the cot, slipping his phone into his pocket. He slowly approaches the door, leaning in to listen for a moment before putting his hand on the knob. He lets out a breath before pushing the door open slowly, slipping in and closing the door quietly. The smells in the room are worse than they had been last night, a toxic mix of omega, alpha, sex, and sweat. He takes a moment to breathe, adjusting to the scent. 
You and Price are spooned together on the bed, asleep, or at least you are. Price had pulled the blankets up around you, tucking you in. Kyle approaches slowly, not wanting to accidentally step on a wrapper and startle either of you and risk you getting scared or Price getting territorial. He brushes the damp strands of hair from your face, your body temperature significantly lower than it had been even last night. He pulls the forehead thermometer from his pocket, taking your temperature quickly before sending a text to Dr. Keller. 
He carefully lifts the blankets, checking beneath. You’re still locked together as he expected, and he lowers the blankets back down, tucking you both in again. He unplugs Price’s phone from the charging cord that he’d plugged in last night, rotating it to your phone. He knew the chances of either of you being aware enough to use a phone for anything would be low, but just in case, he kept them both charged. 
He tiptoes through the mess of wrappers and bottles, grabbing the bag of trash that he had started a couple days ago. He picks up the mess on the floor, cleaning off the nightstand as well before setting out a new bottle of electrolytes and a couple nutrient bars. There’s still quite a few left, but those could be saved for your next heat. 
Price stirs a bit as Kyle sets the bag of trash off to the side next to the bag of things that would have to go to the wash. He hurries over, gently keeping Price from moving too much. 
“Easy. You’re still knotted.” He says, putting a hand on Price’s shoulder as you let out a quiet sound. His skin is warm and sticky from sweat, and probably other things. 
Price rubs his eyes before blinking up at Kyle. “What day is it?” 
“Morning of the sixth day.” He answers, passing Price the bottle of electrolytes. “I think it’s over. Her temperature’s back to normal. Just waiting on Dr. Keller’s opinion.” 
Price hums, unscrewing the cap from the bottle before taking a long drink. “Feel like shit.” 
Kyle grins. “Been a long week for you, Cap. How do you feel?” 
Price screws the cap back on the bottle before leaning over you to place it on the nightstand. “Like I got hit by a truck and rolled down a hill.” 
“Speaking from experience, sir?” Kyle smirks. 
Price gives him a look before closing his eyes again, relaxing against your back. He lets out a groan as his knot deflates, his cock slipping from your folds. “Christ, that's going to hurt later.”
“Let me get the bath started.” Kyle says, going into your bathroom. 
He starts the water, making sure it’s warm enough before he grabs the epsom salt off the counter and adds some in. He leaves the water running as he moves back to the bedroom, helping Price off the bed first. The alpha groans as he stands, leaning heavily against Kyle’s side. Kyle wraps his arm around his shoulders, supporting Price as they make their way to the bathroom. 
“I’ve been beaten, tortured, shot. I’ve jumped out of moving cars, been in helicopter crashes.” Price says, grunting as Kyle helps him down into the bath. “This might be the worst I’ve ever felt.” 
“Not quite as spry as you used to be, old man?” Kyle teases, making sure he’s comfortable. 
“Plenty spry, but god I forgot how energetic omegas can be.” Price leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. 
“Just relax.” Kyle says, turning off the water. “I’ll bring her in.” 
He heads back into your room, approaching the bed. You’re shivering, eyes squeezed closed and eyebrows pinched. Kyle kneels down next to the bed, placing a gentle hand on your arm. You start a bit at the touch, a quiet whimper leaving your lips. 
“Shh, easy love.” Kyle tries to soothe you as you shake. “You’re alright.” 
You let out a whine, seeking out your alpha in your disoriented state. The bathwater splashes as Price shifts in response to your call, his own instincts still on high alert. 
“Let’s get you into the bath.” Kyle says before gently slipping his arms under you and lifting you up. 
You let out a whine in protest, your body sore and aching from the last six days. Kyle quickly carries you to the bath, easing you into the water between Price’s legs. You’re trembling, quiet whines leaving your lips as he eases you back against Price’s chest. The alpha wraps his arms around you, a quiet rumble sounding from his chest as he tries to ease your disorientation and discomfort. 
Kyle leaves you and Price there to soak as he heads back to the room to strip the sheets and start the laundry. Most of your pillows and stuffed animals are stacked in the corner of the room by your desk, spared from the mess that the bed has turned into. The sheets are still wet with a concoction of fluids, and he knows they’ll need to soak for a while. He stuffs them into the bag with your clothes, along with your blankets, before he heads down the hall to the laundry room. 
He checks on you and Price when he returns, both of you content still in the bath. He can’t help but smile as he watches the two of you, pride swelling in his chest at the sight of his alpha taking care of their omega. 
Their omega. 
It seems almost strange to think now. They’d gone so long without an omega, and thought they wouldn’t be getting one. Now, six weeks later, they’ve all fallen head over heels for a little omega none of them even knew they needed. He can’t imagine life without an omega now, how well you fit into their pack, how well you fit with all of them, how you’ve only served to make them stronger and more efficient. 
He hates to admit that perhaps Laswell was right. 
Maybe they did need you after all. 
Kyle bags up the plastic mattress protector, glad to see it did its job. He replaces the sheets and blankets for now, knowing you’ll want to nest once you’re more aware. He checks his phone before heading back into the bathroom, kneeling down next to the tub. Your shaking has subsided, reduced to a shudder here and there as you’ve slowly relaxed in the hot water. 
Kyle grabs a cloth and your body wash, starting to gently clean your skin, or at least get the sweat and other fluids off. Bruises litter your skin and the claiming mark on your shoulder is scabbed and angry. Kyle carefully washes it, not wanting to apply too much pressure as he cleans off the dried blood still stuck to your skin. He knows it’s going to hurt for a while. 
“What did Dr. Keller say?” Price asks as he helps ease you up so Kyle can wash your back. 
“Said if her temperature is normal then the worst is over.” Kyle answers. “She wants to do a check up soon, make sure everything’s alright. Said she’d come here to do it, if that’s alright.” 
Price grunts quietly as Kyle starts to wash his chest. “That’s fine. Easier than going all the way to the medical building. Simon and Johnny?” 
“Fine.” Kyle answers. “Been keeping busy running drills and stuff. Johnny’s been keeping Simon occupied.” 
Price hums, letting his eyes close as Kyle washes his neck and shoulders. “Good.” 
Kyle makes sure to get all of the soap rinsed off before pulling the plug on the water, carefully lifting you up to stand. He lets you lean against him, grabbing one of the towels to dry you off as best he can. Price gets himself standing, drying himself off as Kyle helps you back to bed. Price joins you, wrapping his arms around you tight as Kyle tucks the blankets up around you both. 
“Can I get you anything?” Kyle asks as he sets a new bottle of electrolytes on the nightstand. “Real food maybe?” 
“I’d kill for some bangers and mash, maybe a pint.” Price says, a smile tugging at his lips. 
“I’ll see what I can scrounge up.” Kyle says, glancing at you one last time before he leaves the room. 
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Your body aches. There’s a deep soreness in your muscles, and a painful throb between your legs. Your skin feels raw and tight, and there's a steady pulse behind your eyes. A quiet sound leaves your lips before you can stop it, the sound cracking and broken from your raw throat. There's a desert in your mouth again, your tongue dry and heavy in your mouth.
Your thoughts are dragged away from the agony in your body as a quiet rumbling starts somewhere in front of you, your brain going quiet except for the need to seek it out. You press yourself closer to it, meeting warm skin as you try to get closer and closer. You want to bury yourself in it, seep into its depths until you can feel the vibrations of it in your bones. Arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer until you're squished against a bare chest. 
You press your face against the soft skin, trying to get closer to the rumbling purr vibrating from deep within. You let out another sound, body going lax as the purr lulls you into a relaxed state. The tension leaves your body, easing the ache in your muscles a bit. Not much, but enough to pull a relieved sigh from your lips. 
“Easy, love.” A quiet voice says, another hand touching your back. 
You tense slightly at the intrusion on your safe space, but quickly relax as the hand stills on your skin. The calming scent of beta overtakes you, easing your mind to a quiet hum as your alpha and beta work to calm you. You feel a bit disoriented as reality slowly begins to return, seeping back into your brain. 
You went into heat. 
You remember waking up with the blistering inferno burning hot within you, the insatiable need pulsing between your legs. You remember Kyle being there, the soft scent of him as he helped you prepare, pulling off your clothes and making you drink some of the electrolytes. You remember John entering the room, the way his scent made your brain feel like mush. You remember him sinking his teeth into your shoulder, his knot forcing you open before everything went dark. 
Everything else is a dark blur, wiped from your memory after your instincts took over. 
You shift against the body you’re pressed close to, a deep ache rippling through you. It hurts, everything hurts. Your hips are sore, your shoulder is throbbing, every muscle feels like you just did a triathlon with no training, and there’s a sharp throbbing between your thighs. 
You’re crying before you even realize it, the tears uncontrollable as they slide down your cheeks, the quiet sniffles and sobs aggravating your already aching body. The arms around you tighten, the purring getting louder, but you can’t stop the onslaught of tears. 
You flinch as something tickles the skin of your forehead, chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. You let out a whine as you continue to cry, your mind a swirl of confusion and disorientation as you try to come to terms with everything that’s happened. You don’t know how long it’s been, what day it is. You don’t even know what happened to you in the last week. 
You continue to cry, oblivious to the conversation happening over you, the gentle purring in your ears lulling you into a dazed state as you float in and out of consciousness. The pain of being moved momentarily brings you back before you settle again, laying back against a chest. A baggy shirt is pulled over your head, smelling of your alpha. The fabric feels different than it had days ago when you’d woken up in the throes of your heat. It’s soft, not offending, and it offers you warmth and comfort. 
You don’t want to move, you don’t want to do anything. Exhaustion pulls at the edges of your mind as you lay there, the tears still streaming down your cheeks.
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He hasn’t stopped purring since you woke up. The low rumble in his chest hasn’t stopped, and neither has the ache blooming there since you started crying. Even in your dazed, half asleep state, the tears still roll down your cheeks, quiet shaky breaths catching every so often. He’s not sure what to do, how to help. He’s never been with an omega that’s cried before. Not like this. 
His purring kicks up in volume as you startle awake when the door opens, letting out a broken whimper as your space suddenly gets invaded. He tries to soothe you, his arms tightening around you to try and ground you in his presence. 
“Hi, honey.” Dr. Keller says, kneeling down next to the bed, her voice soft and the scent of beta thick in the air. “Still a bit out of it, huh?” 
“She hasn’t stopped crying since she woke up.” He says, rubbing gentle circles on your arm with his thumb. 
“That’s not unusual.” Dr. Keller says, digging through her bag to pull out a thermometer. “There’s a lot going on right now for her. Besides the exhaustion and the confusion and the pain, there’s a lot of rapid hormonal changes happening. Some omegas can just wake up and hop out of it immediately and be just fine.” 
John frees one of your arms so Dr. Keller can take your pulse and blood pressure. 
“Others might struggle a bit more.” She continues. “Purebred omegas especially have a hard time coming out of it. They’re more sensitive to those instincts and the sudden cut off of them is rather jarring.” She puts her equipment back in her bag. “Her vitals look good, which makes me confident to hold off on any further examinations until she’s more alert and aware.” 
“Are there things we should look out for?” Kyle asks. 
“She’s going to be drowsy and fatigued for a while, but if you can’t wake her at all, call me. If her breathing gets shallow or her pulse weakens or she starts developing a fever again, call me. Also check for blood the next time she uses the bathroom. Her vitals aren’t showing any indication of internal injuries, though, so I think she’ll be just fine.” She pulls a pill bottle from her bag. “I’ve prescribed some muscle relaxers for her. There’s a week’s worth in there. It’ll help with the pain and discomfort, but they will make her sleepy. The best thing she can do right now is rest and recover. Once she’s more aware, you can try some soft foods and lots of liquids. If she’s really struggling, I can set up an IV and get some fluids into her, perk her up a bit.” 
“Thank you.” John says, shifting you slightly so Dr. Keller can look at the bite mark on your shoulder.
“How are you feeling?” She asks him, pulling out a disinfectant wipe.
“Sore.” John huffs out a laugh. “Nothing I can’t handle, though.” 
Dr. Keller hums as she cleans the wound on your shoulder. “I know I’m not here to give you medical advice, but as your omega’s doctor I feel the need to remind you not to ignore your own symptoms. She needs you right now, more than ever. So don’t try to macho man your way through anything. You need to rest just as much as she does.” 
“Yes, doctor.” He grumbles, adjusting your shirt once she’s done. 
Dr. Keller gives him a smile. “You did a good job.” She turns to Kyle. “Both of you. Don’t hesitate to call me. It’s what I’m here for.” 
A smile tugs at John’s lips as Kyle practically beams from Dr. Keller’s praise. He did do a good job. You’re both still breathing after all. 
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3 Days Ago
“I cannae take anymore.” Johnny pants, his breaths near wheezes as he rests his hands on his knees. “Ye said you'd go easy on me.”
“I never promised anything, Johnny.” Simon says, standing behind him. 
“Hell's bells, L.T.” Johnny groans, dropping to his hands and knees. “Gonna kill me at this rate.”
“Don't be dramatic. C'mon, again.” 
“Uh uh.” Johnny says, flopping onto his side on the ground. “Am pure done in! ‘S almost lunch anyway.” He rolls onto his back, looking in the direction of the barracks as he wipes the sweat from his brow. “Think they're havin’ fun?”
Simon looks down at him, looming over him like a shadow. “Probably seems like it right now. Be a different story when it’s done.”
“Sometimes I wish I knew what it was like.” Johnny says, turning his gaze up to Simon's face. He can't see much under the mask, and right now is one of those moments when he wishes he could. 
“You really don't. It's messy and gory.” Simon offers him a hand, helping Johnny to his feet. “Gotta be prepared to pick up the pieces afterwards.” Simon turns, heading in the direction of the barracks. 
“That why you've never taken an omega?” Johnny asks, following him.
Simon stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at Johnny. Johnny's back straightens at the look in Simon's eyes. No, not Simon. Ghost. He's looking at Ghost again. 
“Drop it. Or I'll make you do another lap.” Ghost says, his voice taking on the low rasp he gets when he's shifted into the laser focused headspace of the Lieutenant. 
“Yes, sir.” Johnny says, following after Ghost as they head back towards the barracks. 
Ghost slips into the showers once they enter, Johnny heading to the corner to peek down the hallway towards their rooms. It's quiet now. It hadn't been when they left earlier. He could hear it as they passed the hall to go out the door, the distant sound of moans and the bedframe knocking against the wall. He had fought the erection threatening to tent his shorts all the way to the field. He knows heats are no light matter, but the mental image he's drawn up of you blissed out, mouth open as you moan, back arching in pleasure has been plaguing him for nearly two weeks. He's desperate, practically chomping at the bit to get a chance to see it himself first hand, to see the real thing putting his mental image to shame. 
He makes his way down the hallway, keeping a respectful distance between himself and your room. Kyle looks up from his spot on the bed where he'd been scrolling on his phone.
“How're they doin’?” Johnny asks, wiping the sweat from his face. 
“Alright. Sleeping for the moment.” Kyle answers. Johnny can only imagine the torture of having to sit and listen to nonstop fucking for the last three days. 
“We're gonna grab lunch soon. Want us tae bring ye somethin’?” 
Kyle nods. “Sure. That'd be great.” 
“Ye got it.” Johnny nods, passing a glance at your door before looking back to Kyle. “Good luck.”
“Thanks, mate.” Kyle says, watching his fellow beta walk back down the hall. 
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Johnny glances up from his phone as Simon huffs out what's the tenth sigh in the last three minutes. The alpha is seated at his desk, clicking away at something on his computer and occasionally mashing away at the keyboard rather harshly. Johnny's surprised he hasn't cracked a key yet, or just thrown the whole thing out the window. The beta can see how tightly his alpha is wrung by the tenseness in his shoulders, the hard set of his brow, the set line of his lips, the occasional tick of his jaw. 
“What's got ye all riled up?” Johnny finally breaks the silence, setting his phone aside. 
“Nothing.” Simon grumbles, ignoring Johnny's gaze.
Johnny’s brow furrows and he pushes himself to stand, moving over to Simon’s side. “Doesnae seem like nothin’ to me.” He puts his hands on Simon’s broad shoulders, squeezing them, feeling the tension in his muscles. “Awful tense, Si.” 
“Leave it, Johnny.” Simon grumbles, trying to swat the beta away, but he’s insistent. 
“Wouldnae be a little omega getting you so tense, would it?” Johnny teases. 
Simon turns to him, his eyes darkening. His jaw clenches, hands closing into fists where they sit on the armrests of his chair. “Don’t push it, Johnny.” His voice has that deep rumble to it, the threat of his alpha coming through. 
Johnny stares at him, feeling the danger prickling at the back of his neck, but at the same time, he wants to push that boundary. He wants to see just how far he can push his alpha until he finally gives in. 
“I don’t know why ye keep torturing yourself like this, Si. Ye know ye like her. She’d be more’n willing-” 
“That’s the problem.” Simon snaps, pushing himself up from his seat, forcing Johnny to take a step back. “She’s not doing this because she wants to. She’s only doing this because she’s been told to do it.” 
“She’s an omega. Her whole life was going tae be people tellin’ her what to do and forcin’ her tae do things, even if she didn’t want to. Ye think things would have been different if she’d been put with a different pack?” Johnny doesn’t back down from Simon’s glare, having been on the receiving end of it enough times now he’s almost immune to it. “Things could have been a lot worse for her. She might not have wanted to be here, but she is. Ye can’t change that, Si. No matter how badly you might want to.” 
Johnny can tell by the slow fall to Simon’s tense shoulders that he’s struck home. The situation wasn’t ideal, but it’s what they were dealt. You’re here with them, and he’s going to make sure you feel as comfortable as possible. 
Simon lets out another sigh, turning away from Johnny to crawl into their makeshift bed. He lays down with a huff, closing his eyes. Johnny smirks, slowly crawling onto the two cots pushed together, laying down right next to Simon. He rests his hand on Simon’s thigh, feeling the powerful muscle flex under his hand. He slowly begins to drag it higher, Simon’s eyes opening again. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” Simon rasps, but he doesn’t move, even as Johnny reaches the junction of his hip and thigh. 
“Yer all worked up, big guy.” Johnny says, leaning his head on his hand, slowly moving his hand over Simon’s very prominent bulge. “Thought I’d help ye.” 
“What makes you think I want your help?” Simon says, still laying still. 
Johnny lifts his brows, slowly rubbing Simon through his pants. “This looks rather painful, and I seem to be the only option to help, since everyone else is rather occupied-” 
Johnny’s words are cut off as he finds himself suddenly on his back, Simon’s hand around his throat. The alpha is leaning over him, a deep rumble vibrating through his chest. “You talk too much, Johnny.” Simon rumbles, leaning close to the beta’s face. 
“I’ve been told tha’ before.” Johnny says, leaning up to try and kiss his alpha, but Simon backs away before he can make contact. “By you if I remember correctly.” 
Simon’s fingers flex around his throat, a moan spilling from his lips as Simon grinds his hips against Johnny’s. His cock is hard in his pants, has been for a while. He’s not sure if it’s from the lewd thoughts that have been plaguing his mind since you first kissed him, weeks ago, or if it’s just a response to the knowledge that you’re currently fucking their pack alpha like your life depends on it. 
Johnny lets out a whimper, bucking up against Simon desperately. Simon tuts at him, pressing against his throat to keep him still on the bed as he sits himself up on top of the beta. 
“Naughty little thing.” Simon says, staring down into his blue eyes. “Know you’ve been thinking about sinking your cock into the new little omega for weeks.” Johnny lets out a whine, his cock twitching in his pants. “I don’t think you’ll even make it that long, will you pup?” Simon chuckles. “Gonna cum in your pants as soon as you see her tits, huh?” Simon presses down, putting more pressure against his cock as he rubs it through his pants. “Gonna cum in your pants just thinking about it.” 
Johnny holds his breath, trying to focus anywhere except for Simon’s hand. He squeezes his eyes closed as Simon undoes the button on his cargo pants, releasing his throat to tug the fabric down around his knees. 
“Bloody hell.” Simon says, wrapping a hand around Johnny’s hard cock. “Prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.” 
“I thought Kyle’s was the prettiest.” Johnny says, opening his eyes to glance down at his alpha. 
“Kyle’s just pretty.” Simon says, slowly stroking Johnny’s cock. “You have the prettiest cock.” 
“Christ...” Johnny breathes as Simon continues to jerk his cock, his hips bucking as he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. 
A pathetic whimper leaves Johnny’s lips as Simon pulls his hand away, sitting up on his knees over his beta. He undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor before undoing his pants, pulling them and his briefs down to release his own throbbing cock. Johnny licks his lips as Simon fists his own cock, slowly stroking it. 
“Turn around. Let me see that pretty ass.” Simon says. 
“Yes, sir.” Johnny smirks, wiggling himself until he’s flat on his stomach, pushing his ass into the air as best he can with his legs trapped between Simon’s. 
Simon purrs quietly at Johnny’s response, running his hands over his beta’s pert cheeks. “Prettiest ass too.” He murmurs, gently spreading his cheeks. 
“I’m startin’ to think I might be the prettiest.” Johnny says, gasping quietly as a glob of warm spit hits his hole. 
“Give me a night with Kyle and I’ll get back to you on that.” Simon says, pressing a finger into Johnny’s ass. 
Johnny groans, pressing his face into the pillow. “Fucking Christ.” 
“You can take it.” Simon soothes him, reaching down to fish the lube out of the bag he’d tossed it in last night. He squirts some on his finger before pressing further in, spreading Johnny’s ass open. “Good boy.” 
Johnny nearly melts into the cot, letting out a pathetic sound as Simon adds a second finger. He’s still sore from the last three days, but his drive to please his alpha pushes away any sensitivity he’s feeling. That, and the lust burning hot in him. Betas don’t have heat cycles, but he might as well be in the middle of one with how horny he’s been these last few days. He knows part of it is Simon being worked up by the knowledge that there’s an omega in heat nearby, and his own body reacting to his alpha. He’s never been around an omega in heat, and he doesn’t think Simon has either. 
He’s not sure Simon has ever been with an omega at all before. 
More cold lube hits his hole, a second finger pressing in. He gasps at the stretch, squeezing around Simon’s thick fingers. Simon’s other hand trails up his back, pushing his shirt up as he goes. Johnny pushes himself up slightly, tugging the fabric over his head before he relaxes back down against the blankets. 
Simon presses a third finger in, working Johnny open with what still won’t be enough, but Johnny won’t complain. He’s taken his alpha before. He’ll do it gladly again. 
“Fuck, Johnny.” Simon grunts as Johnny squeezes around his fingers again. 
“Cannae help it.” Johnny whines. “Feels too good.” 
“Didn’t say you could cum yet.” Simon says, removing his fingers. “Naughty pup.” 
Johnny lets out a pathetic sounding whimper, pressing his ass up to try and chase Simon’s fingers. He yelps as Simon’s hand meets his skin, his hips dropping back to the bed at the force of Simon’s spank. 
“Stay still.” Simon growls, the cap of the lube popping open again. 
Johnny does as he’s told, keeping himself still as Simon prepares himself. He groans as the tip of Simon’s cock presses against his hole, his hands fisting the sheets at the stretch. Simon’s hand rubs his back, trying to get him to relax. Johnny breathes, forcing himself to go lax, letting Simon slip in further. 
“Good boy.” Simon groans, bracing himself on the bed as he presses further and further into Johnny’s tight hole. “That’s my good boy. You can take it.” 
“Fuck!” Johnny groans, practically preening from the praise. 
“That’s it.” Simon groans, pressing in until his hips are flush with Johnny’s ass. “Bloody fucking hell.” 
Johnny’s mind goes blank as he’s filled, all thoughts leaving at the feeling of his alpha inside of him. He’s panting already, stretched open around his alpha’s cock. Simon begins to move, rocking his hips slowly, drawing his cock out before pushing it back in. Johnny whines, pushing back against Simon, needing more. 
“Please...” Johnny begs. “Please alpha!”
“Fuck.” Simon grunts, bracing himself further before snapping his hips against Johnny. “Like that? That what you want, pup?”
Johnny almost yelps at the sensation, hands fisting the blankets as his body rocks forward on the cot. “Fuck, yes!” 
Simon sets a brutal pace, hips snapping against Johnny’s ass. Pleasure numbs Johnny’s mind as the sensation of Simon inside of him. His cock is trapped between his body and the cot, dragging against the blankets with every thrust. He’s going to cum soon, he knows that. He won’t be able to hold it, not with how sensitive he already is. 
“Gonna cum, can’t hold it!” He whines, pushing back against Simon’s thrusts for more friction. “Fuck, alpha!” 
Johnny cums quickly with a groan, the blankets getting damp under him as he shakes in his release. Simon doesn’t stop, undeterred by Johnny’s clenching around him in his orgasm. He’s going to ring a few more out of Johnny before he’s done. 
They’re both in for a long night. 
NEXT ->
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