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bunji-enthusiast · 11 months ago

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One Whole, Became Two

Note || this took me so long to write, but I love this stupid idiot platonically. Chapter three my sleep-deprived folks 👍🏻

WC || 3,312

<(part 1)><(previous part)><(you are here)>

Sypnosis || you bring back a dear old dead heart to a wounded dog.

If someone ever told you that you would’ve come back to a desolate factory full of death and damnation you would tell them that in what world in which would that happen? You never would’ve heeded their words.

Oh, how wrong you were.

You hated being wrong.

Yet, many things may have happened, some of which allowed you to get in some exercise… you also gained some new friends. They are very near and dear to you, despite the small numbers you retain in your ragtag group of allies. You preferred the terminology friends, you’ve gotten close with Kissy Missy and Poppy, even DogDay too!

Speaking of which, this accursed Playcare was still a little too dark for your liking. You needed more power, more light to go the right way necessary. A light chuckle breaks you out of your thoughts, “A-angel, do you need some help?” DogDay inquired, watching as you had tried to remember which way he had pointed to the medical station.

You shook your head egregiously, trying to affirm your belief as you spoke, “I got it… I swear I know which way it is!” Your shoulders slumped as you let out a defeated sigh, having to hate asking him for help.

Asking for help wasn’t necessarily your most favorite thing in the world, in for the most of miniscule of things. You thought it was ridiculous, insipid to do, in no way would you ever ask for said help unless you really were struggling.

Apparently as of right now, these were one of those moments that you were truly struggling, and it was with directions as well. You couldn’t be any more ashamed, “Could you m-maybe tell me where it was again?”

DogDay let out an amused bark, not merely in making fun of you. He thought you were just cute, the way you were embarrassed, though DogDay will never actually admit this feeling to you. “Okay, Angel, you see that sign over there? It points to the direction of the medical station.” Your large companion points to the sign in question, you sorely cannot miss it no way, his paw was big. Actually, it’s nearly the size of your head.

“Ah, focus!”

The pathway was riddled with broken cobblestone and dirt, but do-able to make your way through. You just hated broken paths, no trouble still.

You nod to let him know you saw it, walking over to the sign that was now a few pacings away from you. The silence had now settled in place for the lack of conversation, it was seemingly getting awkward enough as is. Suddenly, a new voice interjects on the radio of your walkie-talkie.

“Oh there you are! I wasn’t able to connect to you on that side of the dome!” His light voice carried an undercurrent of worry. “No ouchies or lost body parts?”

DogDay raised a brow as you two had continued making your way to the medical station. You nodded your head curtly, as if angling your head to signify you’d explain the kid on the radio at a later time. You spoke out in reply, knowing full well you weren’t in any real danger at the moment, “I’m uh, I’m fine Ollie. Just taking care of a friend, they got hurt… real bad.” A wince left your throat at the tone you carried within your words, you didn’t expect that.

A thought rushed into your head, “Why’d I word it like that? I guess I’m just worried about revealing DogDay to Ollie just yet.” DogDay patted your leg as to reassure you, eyes gleaming as if they were smiling down upon you.

“Alright, you can introduce me later,” Ollie paused, as if he were hesitating to get the words out of his mouth. As if something was holding him back from doing so, “Take care of them first then I’ll tell you what to do next. See you!”

Then, the radio was now silent. You let out a breath you held in your lungs, sometimes forgetting to breathe reminds you to even breathe manually. An odd habit but nobody will nitpick that for the life of all there is to know and exist.

An abrupt cough shocked you out of your thoughts, you immediately became concerned for DogDay who had been patiently waiting for your dilemma and conversation to end. You knelt down and checked over his body, “No need to worry.” You lodged his resistance in the back of your head, looking for any external wounds beside the most obvious ones.

“I shouldn’t have stopped.” You murmur, gently picking him up. There was no way you’d let him drag himself along the floor, not until he was in a better state.

“We’re alright Angel,” DogDay sputtered, you were unimpressed, not phased by his words. “Really… but who was that if I may ask?”

Steadily, you continued walking–the stupid medical station finally in reach. “Ollie, apparently sometime after I dropped down here he told me he was an ally of Poppy.” You then trailed off, not sure if you wanted to mansplain the entirety of the story down right to when you came across DogDay. Sighing, you begrudgingly open the door to the station.

The room was messy, akin to the state of many other locations in Playcare. But in your modest opinion, you truly did not care about that. You just really needed to fix up DogDay, and he was the focal point of your attention right now. “Angel, you seemed to be incredibly bothered.”

DogDay shifted on the weight of his body as you began setting him down, if you were being truthful, you couldn’t refute that very fact. Yet you felt too angry to get the words across, “I know, I.. I guess this stupid factory just has me all on edge.”

Then a silence settled into place, as neither of you were unsure of what to say next. Everything and nothing was happening all at the same time. You walked over the ruined carpet, it looked as if it was made in the 1980’s. Some doors seemed to be torn off of it’s hinges, but at least the supplies were barely stolen. There was enough to treat DogDay properly, as much as you can manage within your knowledge anyway.

The hard part would be treating DogDay, (as you unfortunately didn’t have enough knowledge medically) and getting him his legs back so he could walk on his own as well.

Gently, you opened a door to a closet, full of bandages and gauze.

“Perfect timing, guess I didn’t need to look that hard.” You thought to yourself, your hands already grabbing the bandages and gauze. A small smile graced your cracked lips, carrying a genuine air with you, “Hey, DogDay I found some supplies. Looks like they left this place pretty untouched.” You waved at him, holding the aforementioned supplies in hand.

DogDay perked up from where he had been looking at some stray medical papers, most likely files of every patient to come in and out of the station. “Oh!.. Thank you greatly. You really are an angel my friend.” You become bashful at his words, an embarrassed chuckle leaving you as you scratched the back of your head. Standing up you walk back over to the large dog, motioning for DogDay to position himself to where you can get to all the spots correctly.

You sighed, having to take a moment in order to set yourself into focus, this was important. You didn’t want to screw up something so crucial to DogDay’s health, “Ok, This might hurt a little so bear with me.” You warn, crouching down as you laid out the supplies.

“I have no doubt you will do fine!” DogDay encouraged you, settling down to be calmer for you. Fine, yes you can do fine. Okay well enough maybe, you just need to be careful!

Why was this so difficult?

“Stupid brain, Stop giving me all these thoughts!” You groan lowly, setting into place to mend his more major wounds with a contemporary suture. First off, you needed to clean the suture, to which you had quickly done.

You gently pressed a wet rag to the most prominent area, cleaning it out of any debris that might be left behind in the wound. DogDay was simply listening and quiet upon your actions, clearly a little too impressed for your liking. You swabbed the wound with water then threw away the rag a few meters from you, you internally winced at that.

Injuries are a major case for you ever since you stepped foot into this factory, you just never expected to be having to treat another person (or toy for that matter).

“Angel?” You let out a hum in reply, suturing the wound as he spoke. “You seem… incredibly bothered, maybe you should try to talk about it.” DogDay shifted slightly, wincing a little as he had done so. Concern washes over your expression as you went to hold him, he held out a hand to reassure you he was fine.

“Well.”

You sat back on the heel of your foot as you thought about it for a moment, your brows knitted together. It was practically hurting your head, giving you a headache to be thinkin about every little thing that was running through your head.

Your lips pressed together in a thin line, unsure of whether or not to air your concerns. But it seems you weren’t gonna have any other chance to talk about it then right now, you just didn’t wanna dump everything on DogDay all at once.

Practically would seem like a lot. Far too much to say and too little to be sure of.

“I guess I’m just concerned over whether or not I really can trust Poppy,” You signal, having a habit of talking with your hands. “And this, Prototype guy… didn’t you say CatNap worships this thing like a god?”

He nods, “Yes, I didn’t join the Prototype. Which is why he had deemed me a heretic.” You frown at his words, nobody deserves that type of treatment. Making it even worse, you would assume the two used to be very good friends.

“Oh dear,” You echo, recoiling suddenly in embarrassment for voicing something you didn’t realize slipped out of your mouth. DogDay laughs at this, waving his hand as he sits himself upright so as to not slip onto his back, “You are very much correct Angel.” He nods, “If anything, he’s no longer the old CatNap I’ve come to know him as.”

You shrug, a little unsure of the situation right now. Then a thought you finally needed ran across your mind, “Hey, would you happen to remember where your legs are or if… any spare ones laying around anywhere?” You motion around the room as you spoke, voice trailing off as you sat back, and awaiting DogDay’s response. He appeared to be deep in thought, clearly thinking about your question.

“I believe they have some spares in a storage room at this station,” DogDay gestures at the specific door he thought of in mind. “But Angel, I might be wrong. Don’t trouble yourself for my sake beyond this.” His voice strains, as if pleading.

You chewed your lips, nodding your head once more as you headed to the door of origin. You quietly crept into the room, seeing how dark and dank it was. Slowly but surely your eyes had adjusted to the light.

“Now, where are you… stupid legs.” You mutter, taking notice of some poppy gas that laid in wait in the corner, not to mention how badly scratched this room was in particular. Probably the work of CatNap or some other toy. On instinct, your legs drove you forward as you stepped into the gas with a gas mask inset upon your face. You certainly didn’t feel like dying from the gas, or passing out for that matter.

You had a debt to pay.

Your eyes wandered aimlessly as you palmed around for the supposed legs, feeling around for each and every inch possible that you might miss.

Suddenly you felt a fuzzy feeling run up across your arm, you jostled in surprise, a happy squeak leaving your throat when you pick up the legs. “Thank you, sweet baby jesus.” You huff in reprise, feeling accomplished at the place of convenience.

If you could laugh right now, it would be possible, heaven sure as hell wasn’t a place for angels anymore. Not even you, but you still had to follow through, you came here in the first place anyway.

A small sigh left your esophagus as you turned, walking back through as you made careful note not to trip walking back too.

Something had your mind occupied, demons infested this place. Elliot Ludwig had created this place, and if he so proclaims to want to bring joy to thousands upon thousands of children around the world then why would he permit the experiments. All those children and the elderly… your heart couldn’t help but ache at the mere thought.

You shake your head to get your mind out of the unilluminated gutter, DogDay lit up upon seeing you in his sights once more. “Angel, you are alright.” He mentions, paw held to his chest as if he were breathing a sigh of relief.

Your nose was scrunched as you gutted a snort, “You say that like it’s so surprising DogDay.” DogDay shrugs, as if he was now expressing the vulnerability of being embarrassed at the prospect of his own words.

“Ah I’m just joking with you,” You wave him off, DogDay remains silent at this, not having any thought at what to say back to you. You were right though, he shouldn’t be doubting you for what even anyone in particular is worth. Being freed for what feels like the first time in forever had been leaving him with brand new thoughts, even though he had been thinking and left well alone for nearly over a decade now.

One door closes, infinite more are open. One must beware the foreign class, otherwise you may as well see yourself dead.

“I truly do apologize for Poppy’s actions… we all mean well.” DogDay begins, trailing off into nearly an inconceivable silence. You set down the legs, to which DogDay is delighted at this brand new aspect, yet still left without room to be uncouth. You didn’t speak at all, pressing between the fine line of the truth and his own words.

“We must, break the circle.”

What?

“Angel?”

“You all are chained, if whatever happened all those years ago were true…” You sigh, rubbing the nape of your neck as you find yourself in an air of awkwardness. “Then I am also at fault for the way you guys are right now.”

DogDay’s brows drew together, upset that you feel guilty for the entirety of this fortnight. At least it had felt that way for you, you sincerely had lost track of time since your watch had gotten destroyed. You tried keeping up with the time on the clocks you pass by, but you just generally had lost the energy and motion in doing so.

“Hmn.” He muttered to himself, then got up to hug you, which had clearly surprised you as you felt yourself being enveloped and wrapped in a very fluffy hug. You sigh and decompress after a few moments, the shock finally leaving your body.

“Thanks… DogDay,” You motion, patting the fluff resting upon his chest. “I actually really needed that, hugs are a rarity.” You admit, blush burning on your cheeks as you look away from him in a manner of speaking. You hear a chuckle interrupted by a cough, “Don’t thank me, you seemed to really need it Angel. Being exhausted is one thing, but no hugs?”

DogDay drew a paw to his chest as he spoke dramatically, “That is absolutely unacceptable!” Your hand crossed over your mouth, trying to stifle a laugh at what a drama king DogDay was posing as at this very moment.

“You kinda remind me of someone I know.” You motion, then sat on the heels of your feet as you immediately went back to work in fixing up DogDay.

“How so?”

“You're pretty bright, act like a drama king sometimes and you even can be a little mean…” You wag a finger as you see him begin to protest at the mean comment, “I don’t mean like in a rude manner, just like in a brotherly way. You kind of act like a big brother sometimes.” You shrug with a hint of finality, fixing up his other injuries and repairing them with a gentle hand, even if the suture seemed to betray the tremble displayed.

After silence had continuously settled in once again, you sigh, angling at the fact on what to do in order to mend DogDay’s very obvious injury with his lack of legs attached at the bottom of his torso. For a moment, you meander with the decision.

“Right, I’m gonna try my best to reattach them to you.” You spoke with a benign tone, more so displaying your own distrust of yourself. You hated that, you practically hated everything so why is this any different.

You just have to do it scared.

Familiarity reigns over your heart as you see his large paw lay over your own hand, you sigh, sensations shuddering your body as you keep yourself calm. You silently thank DogDay as you gesture that you were okay now, you can be fine on your own.

You push the legs to his upper half, just barely enough that it would appear as if the legs were there and back again already. Your hand wanders over to the middle line, your eyes glaze over with forlorn worry taking your very worried brain. You sigh as you begin stitching, taking careful caution as you notice him flinching quite a few times throughout the process. At a leisurely pace, you notice by the influence you had made by taking care of him how much better he looks physically.

Soon enough, you manage to completely stitch his legs back to right where they belong. “Well done, I knew you could do it Angel!.” DogDay shook with excitement, reassuringly glad at the prospect of being able to actually walk again. You swear you could collapse at the relief, you hold out a finger before you let him get excited any further, “I still need to bandage it all together, extra precaution if you catch my drift.”

Your large dog companion nods in understanding, shifting about so his body parts don't get sore from sitting in one place for too long.

From before, grace was high in patriarchy, now then you were sure it was something high to fall from. You could climb to the top (bottom to be literal) and rip the Prototype off of his high horse, and free all the surviving toys.

You shook your head, trying to calm yourself at the buzzing excitement that had resonated deep-seated into your heart. You quickly went to work on bandaging the middle line of his torso, carefully curating it enough so the bandages would cover the stitches completely.

“There, now we are done and good to go!” You look up at DogDay, offering him a soft smile. “Angel really… thank you so much.” He gestures for you to come closer, so you oblige and go in, suddenly you feel yourself being hugged by unabashed warmth. You yelped as air bloomed across your skin, seeing as you are now in the air quite a few feet off the ground.

DogDay really was hugging you with the whole of his heart, so you melt into his touch, relenting as you found defeat–yet also peace with your furry friend.

#dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime dogday #DogDay #x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

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Monster, Inc.

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is an asshole, you know this. But what happens when he turns his wrath upon you? (plus!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, this reader is known as Missie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

You sweep in with an armful. Two! You push through the door with your ass and barely keep from falling onto it. As ever, you enter in a whirlwind of to dos and currently being dones. You breeze over to your desk and carefully lower your load, blowing out through your lips. Whew.

You peer over at the office door. The place is desolate. You’re always the first in, the last one gone. You can blame your boss’ high standards but that’s not fair. You put just as much pressure on yourself.

You unlock Mr. Hansen’s office door and set about sorting through your list. You hang his suit jackets that you picked up last night and put the new pair of Prada loafers he ordered on the little rack across the bottom. Then you bring in his usual coffee in the gold insulated mug engraved with the company logo. Then you set out that special little treat you spent your morsel of free time baking.

You carefully place the numbered candles on the mini cheesecake and stand with a proud smile. You never forget to dot and i or cross a t. You think that’s why you’ve lasted longer than any other PA under Hansen’s wise guidance. You anticipate his needs before they even come up.

You hear him coming and light the candles before you rush to the door. You swiftly step outside and out of his way as he shoves his briefcase into your arms and tosses his jacket at you. You catch the latter and wait for him to enter before you trail after him. You put his briefcase on his desk as he goes around the other side and swiftly hang his jacket with his freshly cleaned suits.

He noisily flicks back the lid of the travel mug then let out a hum. You know that hum. He’s not happy. He hasn’t even tasted it. What’s the problem. You turn and smooth the ruffles of your polka dot skirt.

“Sir? Is the coffee not hot enough?”

“What the fuck is this?” He stares at his desk with a sneer.

“Sir?”

“What the fuck!” He raises his voice.

“Oop! Happy birthday, sir!” You trill and come closer, peeking past his iMac at the flickering flames on the 4 and the 6.

He snarls at the candles and picks up the waxy 6. You blink, surprised by his reaction. You don’t understand. It’s a nice birthday surprise.

“Sir, It’s tiramisu cheesecake. I know you like the stuff from down at White’s but--”

He throws the little candle at you and the melting wax drips on your ruffled collar. You cry out and catch it as the flame goes out. He does the same with the other and scalds your inner arm. You cradle the candles as he takes the cakes and tosses it like a frisbee toward the door. You gulp.

You’ve seen Mr. Hansen angry before. It’s his favourite emotion but it’s never been because of you. His blue eyes narrow at you and he curls his lips.

“I don’t need some young fucking bimbo like you reminding me how old I am,” he snaps and picks up the travel mug, slurping loudly, “get the fuck out of my sight. And clean that up.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I thought--”

“You thought?” He barks, “not hard enough, hips.”

You wince. His little pet names aren’t as sweet as they might seem and he rarely hurls them at you. No, he calls the women in the copier room sugar tits and baby, but not you. You look down at your skirt, the frills don’t make you seem any less wide. His reminder of your size stings, not that you hate yourself, but he can be so nasty.

“Yes, sir,” you answer brightly.

He sighs and falls into his large leather chair. He mutters into the cup as you go off to grab paper towel to clean up the desecrated cheesecake. You return with the wastebasket from beside your desk and set to wiping up the ruins.

“You really need to make those things look any bigger? I should send you down to HR,” he snips.

You look up, confused. You shake your head as you put another clump in the bin, “Mr. Hansen?”

“Whatever that is...” he gestures to his collar and you look down at your ruffly collar, “it’s not doing you any favours.”

“Thank you, sir, I’ll donate the blouse,” you agree.

“Even the poor idiots down at Goodwill don’t deserve that,” he scoffs.

He’s in a mood. You’re not prepared for it. You assumed his birthday would be a happy day. It’s your own fault for trying to predict him. He’s hard to account for.

You finish up and grab the roll of towels and the bin. You stand and something flies over your shoulder. You flinch and turn to look down at his golden pen. You stare, perplexed.

“Well, pick it up, hips.” You shrug and obey. As you bend over, he chortles, “damn, wide load.”

You snap up, embarrassment singing your neck and cheeks. You turn and hurry over to place the pen on his desk. You dip your head and quickly retreat.

“Ah, cheeks, don’t be so shy. Some guys like the extra cushion,” he snickers.

“Sir, can I get you anything else?” You stop by the door. It’s better not to feed into his little game. This is fun for him.

“Some fucking peace and quiet. Get out.”

You don’t hesitate to do exactly that. You shut the door and cross to your desk. You put the bun down and swerve towards the break room to put the towels away. You return to your desk and sit, recentering yourself as you ready yourself for the daily rundown. Before you can open up the calendar, a notification pops up in the corner.

Mr. Hansen?

You click on it and revealed in the chat is a picture of your ass as you bend over to grab the pen. You cringe. He can see that you read the message. The little eye icon pops down beside the picture.

‘Cancel my nine o’clock’ his next message pops up.

‘Yes, Mr. Hansen,’ you type back.

His dot turns to red. Unavailable. Right. He is bristly this morning, it’s best he doesn’t have anyone else around to provoke him.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #series #drabble #monster inc #the gray man #au #bad bosses

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iid-smile · 4 months ago

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can't get rid of me , fushiguro toji

sent straight from... hell, with a cigarette in hand , chapter two

the series masterlist. | previous | next

cw: smoking, profanity, money talk, odd conversation, just a lot of smoking

author's note: its hard trying to build on a characters story when you havent got it written out on paper (like me) lol font make this mistake because building as you go is painful

at last, night was just around the corner.

you put megumi to bed as soon as you could, despite the high risk that he'll be the one waking you up in the morning and not the other way around.

you're well aware you should quit smoking, for your sake and his, but you just can't. it takes so much weight off of your shoulders, even if it's just for a few hours, or maybe even minutes. it brings peace to your mind, but it's more like you can't think at all rather than having the negative thoughts pushed out.

and here, you find yourself around the back of the slummy apartment block, holding your last three cigarettes in your hand. multiple times have you peered up at your floor, checking through the window that the light to your son's bedroom remains off. you know that he's well-behaved, but sometimes kids just get up to the oddest things when their parents aren't around; if you even consider yourself worthy enough to be one.

the only lighter you have seems to have enough fluid, but it's hard to say when there's little to no lampposts in this area. on top of that, it's windy, so if the flame keeps blowing out... you're doomed.

and wow, would you look at that! every time you press on the pusher, the little beam of joy that sprouted out just had to be blown out. better yet, it's completely dead now. there's no store within a walking distance that you could reach in time, and you sure as hell don't want to be knocking around on doors when your neighbours know you have a kid.

addiction sure is scary.

"bloody hell..." you mutter, your head throwing back onto the concrete wall behind you. it hurt, but the rising irritation burning up in your throat was worse. way worse. perhaps this is a sign..?

"need a light?"

one of your eyes open and gaze off to the right, only to see a tall-ish silhouette of a man. your eyes squint, and a scowl quickly overcomes your face, ready to scare him off if need be. "who are you?"

"just call me..." the mystery man hums for a moment, hands in pockets as he steps closer to you. "kong. mr kong." you can tell he's got a smile, or what you'd (not) like to think is a smirk, and he comes up to lean against the wall beside you.

automatically, you shift over to create a wider gap between the two of you, and you cross your arms in defence. "well, mr kong, i don't appreciate you approaching me in the middle of the night."

"and i don't appreciate your attitude either, missy. for someone who looks so distressed, you really don't seem to want what you're craving, do you?" he says, his tone awfully amused.

is that a threat? sounds like a threat to you. and it definitely sounds like it's got multiple layers to it. "i don't want shit from you." you bark back.

"oh, really?" in the corner of your eye, you watch as he takes out a cigarette box, placing one in between his teeth. "then, don't mind me." he turns his head away from you, and a quiet flick flick commences. the thick gust of smoke wafting into the air was only a dream for you at the moment.

this guy... this mr kong guy... he's teasing you. he dares to come into your personal space, and rub it in your face that he's got a lit cigarette and you don't. something bubbles in your throat, like you're salivating at the thought of your mouth running dry. you have to. "wait, actually—"

"exactly." the tab in your hand was tightly pinched between your middle and index finger, and he takes it upon himself to press a fire against the butt. "let's handle this like adults, yeah?"

as anticipated, your face immediately lights up. this is a sign! weird strangers that approach you in the middle of the night are the best sources for a light! and he's got money too, you can tell by the design. chic and sleek, black, gold accents. rich guys usually go for things like that, right? with no ring on his finger, you're going to try butter him up.

you gaze at him, trying to find anything to talk about, but you could only notice his appearance. tall, stubble, suit. the surname kong doesn't really sound japanese... maybe he's not from here. that would be disrespectful to ask though. the sound of his sighs and mumbles catches your attention, and you immediately pounce at the opportunity. "are you stressed?"

"definitely. got a man-child on my hands. will not stop whining about how much he misses his wife." mr kong groans again, his free hand coming to loosen his tie.

you tilt your head more at him. "and the wife in question is...?"

"no, it's him that's away. locked away, to be precise." he's staring off at nothing, mindlessly repeating his actions. "he's always visibly disappointed when it's me visiting and not her. it's not like she ever will anyway, so he should give it up."

rapid fire questions are the way to go. "what did he go in for?"

"a lot of things." another pause as he takes a drag, sighing again as he takes a glance at you. "something a woman like you shouldn't hear." ...rapid fire was cut short.

rude and assuming... also, that's the second time kong guy here has said something suspicious. you can't even be mad, not when you want to milk some money out of him. hell, even that little light he gave you could've cost a whole ten thousand yen note. you've got nothing else to ask.

"got kids, by any chance?" he asks inquisitively, or maybe trying to fill for the silence, a question for you.

"a little boy. well... he won't be so little anymore soon." your eyes drifts down to the ground, and you fiddle with a little strand of hair that was within your sight. "he's only got me, i've only got him."

"and the father?"

and tell him that your ex-husband also coincidentally went to prison for bad things too? yeah, no. "...gone."

"unfortunate." mr kong seems to be trying to find something else to look at, having used up all of what was in front of him. "you live here?"

"yep." you shouldn't even try to deny it. surely he saw you glancing up at the windows multiple times, even before he came up to you. there's no point in lying.

when he turns back to you, his eyebrow raises; he's amused again. "you really make me pity you, missy. it's not often that i feel that way."

now he's looking down on you?

it's like as soon as you heard that word pity, you saw dollar signs blinding your eyes. "...think you could help me out? some bills and stuff?" shit, you're asking too early! so shameless about it too.

not only was your kiss ass attempt obvious, you're asking a random man that you don't even know for financial help. you're seriously vulnerable to scammers.

"sure."

"what?"

"i said sure."

"but i didn't even—"

mr kong chuckles, mockingly too. "money always comes with a price. just be ready for it." with that, he stomps out his used up cigarette, walking off as he lights himself a new one.

he's too trusting, or you're signing yourself up for something dangerous. either way, it's like he was aware you would accept no matter the conditions. does this guy know you already or what? and when the hell will you be able to see him again?

no... he's familiar.

taglist: open!

@iheartlinds @ssetsuka

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wosobrainiac · 5 months ago

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Shelter

Pairing: Alessia x Leah x Pet!reader

With most of Arsenal rescuing pets, Leah and Alessia get talked into saving a traumatized pet from a shelter.

Warnings: This work includes Pet!play, and has themes of trauma and trafficking though nothing is explicitly stated. There will also be no sexual activities between the pets and the non-pets. Theres also nothing sexual in this fic. Its kinda cute if i do say so myself.

The univese is based on the Widow au universe found here

This is a side blog because I'm too nervous to post this on my actual blog. Please enjoy and let me know if you have more requests for this universe.

Alessia and Leah had never really considered getting a pet (human or otherwise) until their teammates started rescuing them.

First was Steph and her partner, who rescued a former pleasure kitten, Bella. She was surrendered when her CEO owner upgraded to one of the newer HFeline models with upgraded sexual proclivity when he lost interest in her.

Now she got to spend her days in a far too expensive cat tree, sunning herself and eating exotic treats from around the world.

Next were Viv and Beth who saved an adorable pup named Lady from being a bait dog in a dog fighting ring. Caitlin and Katie soon followed with a hulking retired HK9 named Jax, who begged for scraps at every meal and was a sucker for belly rubs. Kim rescued a bunny, Peaches, from a cosmetic company and Lotte had gotten a pup of her own, Brownie, who was also a pleasurehound for a major network, rejected when he no longer drew high ratings.

Arsenal was slowly becoming a zoo, filled with barks and purrs. Their team group chat had turned into a pet helpline filled with adorable pictures of the shenanigans

And while Leah and Alessia had come to love the new additions to their team, the pair still had… reservations.

Sure, the practice was widespread, and hardly considered controversial. And yes, some people willingly signed up to be pets when they turned 18. But many were surrendered due to debt, chose it over jail or were kidnapped and forced.

It didn’t sit right with them.

Not until they saw how their friends' pets were thriving after being treated properly. Not until they saw that they could offer the ability for pets to choose. The ability to show preference and desires and to have them honored.

Plus, Beth and Viv had made a fair point. Rescuing a pup was different than ordering one from one of the many Labs, Tech Companies or suppliers. It meant taking someone who had been in a crappy situation and offering them a new beginning. One that would be a vast improvement.

They could show them love, and give them dignity, something that was blatantly lacking from the pet trade.

That’s how they ended up at a pet shelter on one of their few Saturdays days of trailing after two attendants, Kara and Lexa, as they introduced them to each pet and gave them a short description of their personalities.

It was a nice way to do it, she thought.

It made each of the pets seem like more than just… objects. It made sure that they found the pet that fit them best. One they would click with.

She also realized it let Kara and Lexa make sure that her and Leah would be good owners.

Kara’s questions were subtle, asking about their jobs, the amount of time they could devote to a pet, what kind of home they lived in and what traits they valued. Lexa was more direct, point blank questioning them about what their plans were, and making sure that both of them agreed that many of the practices in both the pleasure and security sectors were despicable and not to be replicated.

“And who is this?” Alessia asked as they moved on to the next kennel, her fingers trailing along the tall black bars that made up the space.

Kara smiled widely, flipping the lock on the cage door and easing it open. “This is Missy,”

She reached up to scratch behind the kitten's dark hair, as Leah followed her.

“Hello Missy,” The blonde defender said, also reaching to pet the kitten, even as Alessia hovered by the door.

The kitten batted at her hand, trying to catch it, earning a fond smile from the defender. “You’re a spicy one, aren’t you?”

“Missy is quite playful, and absolutely loves attention,” Kara hummed, scratching the kitten under her chin. “And cooking shows, or anything with fish on the screen really,”

“She does prefer elevated spaces,” Lexa added, gesturing toward the tower of platforms the kitten was laying on. “And will get depressed if she has to stay at ground level,”

Alessia made a low noise, as Leah scratched gently behind the kitten’s ear, her eyes wandering down the line of kennels. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the kitten or any of the other pets they had seen, but she hadn’t felt that connection yet.

Still, there were so many kennels left.

It was heartbreaking how many of them were full. How many had little faces pressing against the black bars, trying to attract a potential owner?

All except one down at the very end of the hall.

She tilted back, trying to get a better look at what lay behind the bars, but all she could make out was a blue lump in the corner.

She couldn’t deny the pull she felt towards the cage.

“What about the one down there?” She asked, already stepping towards the dark metal bars at the very end of the hallway.

A pained look crossed Kara’s face as she followed Alessia’s gaze. “She’s one of our newer arrivals,”

“Why is she all alone?” Alessia asked as they passed empty kennels on either side of the ones leading up to the one at the end of the hallway.

“She’s having a hard time adjusting,” Kara explained, as Lexa walked in front of them. Leah trailed after them, looking much less enthusiastic.

The tattooed handler grimaced as they got closer to the cage. “Given her circumstances, she might not be the best fit for first-time owners,”

Leah silently agreed based on the giant orange sign taped to the black bars of your area that read:

Possibly aggressive

Two handlers are required during feeding

“Less, what about Missy? We don’t want-” Leah suggested, catching the forward's arm. Alessia glared over her shoulder, effectively killing any further protests on her tongue.

“The sign is just precautionary,” Kara said as they got closer, pausing at the door of the kennel. “She hasn’t been very interactive since she arrived, and we don’t have a good idea of her temperament yet,”

“And she hasn’t seemed interested in food, or treats, so we require two handlers in case there’s a trigger there we don’t know about yet,” Lexa continued, unhooking her keys from her waistband and with a jingle.

You pressed yourself into the far corner of the kennel at the sound, curling into a tight ball against the white bricks, and hiding your face from the group under a small blue blanket.

Alessia couldn’t stop the coo that left her lips at the sight of your nose just barely peeking out from underneath the small blanket.

“What’s her name?” She asked, shifting closer to the now open door, keeping her voice very soft.

“We don’t know. Her previous owner only identified her by a number, and she hasn’t responded to any that we’ve tried,” Kara explained, her voice going very soft. “The only thing she’s liked since she got here is the blanket,”

As if you understood that they were talking about the thin fabric covering you, your fingers wound tightly on the edge like you thought they would take it away.

All the movement did was shift the blanket to reveal more of your skin, littered with thick lines and yellowing bruises.

“We suspect she was training to be a fighting dog and failed during one of the final checks,” Kara explained softly at their collective intake of breath. “She was in rough shape when they brought her in,”

Leah made a low noise of agreement, her eyes trailing the thick line of gauze that peeked out from the small flannel blanket you had tucked around yourself. It spanned from your too-skinny side, across your ribs, and to your back, where Leah was sure she could count each of your vertebrae.

It made her sick that someone could do this to another creature. “Final checks?”

“They put them with a bait dog to test their prey drive,” Lexa explained, easing the door to your cage open. You made no move to greet them. “From their records and the amount of titanium modifications they made, they thought she would be very… lethal,”

Leah made a low sound in the back of her throat.

She knew about… modifications that people made to pets. The inhumane surgeries were considered upgrades.

It made her sick that not only had you been physically abused, but you had also been surgically altered for someone else’s purposes.

“Viv and Beth’s pup was a bait dog. She's such a tiny thing,” She murmured, thinking of how your scars mirrored those Lady bore.

“They’re purposefully kept weak so the fighting dogs can beat them and gain confidence,” Kara said, stepping just inside the kennel and to the side so they had a clear view of you.

Leah’s nose scrunched, thinking about how sweet and tiny Lady was, always rubbing up against legs and asking for pets and scritches. “Nasty stuff,”

“Indeed,” Kara agreed, crouching and leaning against the bars. You just curled tighter into yourself, shifting the blanket to cover more of your back. It slipped higher, revealing the thick scars on your legs just above your ankles.

The place where your tendons had been cut to prevent you from standing on 2 legs.

Alessia frowned, crouching next to Kara in the kennel entrance. “But she didn’t pass?”

“No. Their notes said her prey drive was too low, and unfortunately, that’s all the information we have besides the condition she was in when their compound was raided,” Lexa sighed, rubbing her forehead. “It appears that they were trying to enhance her hunting instincts with bearings and starvation,”

Alessia hummed, stepping into the cage beside Kara and squatting so she didn’t intimidate you.

“Hey pretty girl,” She said gently.

You peeked up at her, blinking slowly, most of your face still hidden, meeting her blue eyes. She could see the terror in them, masked only by the deepest sense of anguish.

She made a cooing sound. “It must be scary in here, huh?”

A low whimper left your lips, and you shifted towards the door, and Alessia, dragging the blanket with you.

The three women behind Alessia froze, and Lexa and Kara shared a look.

“I think that’s the most I’ve ever seen her move,” Kara murmured, reaching into the fanny pack around her waist and pulling a small slice of sausage out. At the same time, Lexa put one hand on the spray at her hip, and gestured for Leah to get low like Alessia and Kara were with the other.

They didn’t think you would snap, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

She followed Lexa’s instructions, kneeling and placing a gentle hand on Alessia’s shoulder.

“Try this,” The blonde kennel attendant kept her voice low as she passed the piece to Alessia, neither of their eyes leaving your timid form. “We haven’t had much luck getting her to eat, but maybe you can,”

She held the sausage out to you with a flat palm, and all four women held their breath as you scooted forward, and stopped, watching them with wide, terrified eyes.

“It’s ok, sweet one,” Alessia said, her voice soft, reassuring. “You can take it,”

You glanced from the treat to Alessia’s face and back, your nostrils going wide as you sniffed in the new scents, sliding just a bit closer to them.

You didn’t reach for the treat, instead you ducked your head and very gently raised it to touch the back of Alessia’s hand.

She moved slowly, taking the treat with her free hand and flipping her palm over to gently scratch your head.

You practically melted, pressing more of your head into her hand. Her nails ran over your scalp, and a sound that was cross between a purr and a growl fell from your lips.

Leah couldn’t hold in her little awe.

“She’s adorable,” She mumbled, inching towards you and extending a hand to join Alessia’s. She picked a spot just behind your ear, gently stroking the place where your skin and hair met.

You paused as you registered the new sensation, your body contorting like it didn’t know if it wanted to lean in closer or pull away.

“It’s ok. It’s just Leah. She won’t hurt you,” Alessia murmured, though she could tell you didn’t quite believe her.

She gently nudged Leah with her free arm, a silent order to say something that wouldn’t break the tenuous truce you had developed.

“You’re ok,” Leah murmured, gently scratching behind your ear. “Less is right, you are quite cute,”

You made a groaning sound in the back of your throat that was a mix between a grumble and a purr.

It pulled a smile from her lips. “You don’t like being called cute?”

You made the grumbling sound again, shrugging to displace Leah’s hand behind your ear.

The defender chuckled. “I see how it is,”

Alessia dragged her nails more deeply against your scalp, turning your grumble purr into a straight up purr, a wide smile pulled across her lips. “I want her,”

Leah hummed in agreement.

You were clearly attached to Alessia, and she trusted that - despite the large orange sign on your door- that you wouldn’t hurt the forward.

You were just scared and hurt, and you deserved a chance.

“Kara can get you set up in a room so we can fill out some paperwork and go over some of our suggestions, and I’ll get this one set up with a nice new collar and a muzzle,” Lexa said, pushing herself to her feet.

You flinched at the movement, causing the blanket to fall from your back.

“Shh pretty girl,” Alessia soothed you gently. “You’re ok,”

Leah frowned, gesturing towards where you were practically melting at Alessia’s touch. “Why does she need a muzzle? She hasn’t been aggressive,”

A pained expression crossed Kara’s features as she also pushed herself to her feet, more slowly than Lexa had. “The muzzle is just precautionary. We’ve had her isolated since she’s been here, and we don’t want an incident if she gets overwhelmed,”

Leah sighed, she had to agree.

The last thing she wanted was for you to lash out because you got frightened.

“I don’t want to leave her,” Alessia murmured, and you nuzzled deeper into her hand.

She took that as you saying you didn’t want her to leave either, but she knew she had to.

“They’ll only be a few minutes,” Kara promised.

“And I’ll take good care of your pretty girl,” Lexa added, smiling genuinely at them.

Alessia’s fingers dragged through your hair one more time, as she released a long breath.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes alright?” She said, giving your one last scratch before she pulled away.

You pouted as she stood, making a low, upset sound.

“I know,” She repeated. “Just a few minutes, and you get to come home with me and Lee,”

You huffed, turning away from them, grabbing your blanket between your teeth and heading for your little corner.

Alessia frowned, but didn’t stop you.

She knew it would take a lot to earn your trust.

“It’ll be alright,” Lexa said as she closed the door of the kennel. “We’ll come find you guys as soon as I got her all set up,”

OoOoOoO

“She’s had all of her shots, and her medical paperwork is in the file. The first issue we should discuss is her temperament,” Kara began, sliding a stack of papers across the table for them to read, pointing to the first page that listed dietary suggestions. “I would suggest hand feeding. It’ll help her learn to trust you,”

“You said she hasn’t been interested in food,” Leah said, looking down at the page.

Next to likes and dislikes almost nothing was checked. There were no notes.

All except a little star next to the line that read Peanutbutter.

“No,” Kara agreed quickly. “But that could all be down to stress. Variety will be your best friend in the beginning. Stick with finding foods she’ll enjoy first, and then we can worry about meeting her required macros later,”

Alessia nodded, her mind already working through the foods they had in the cabinet and the ones they would need to buy.

The Arsenal meal team had done well to provide the growing zoo within the team with foods that fit their preferences. If they could grill Jax a T-bone steak for lunch every day, then surely they could grill whatever food you latched on to.

It would just be at home they would need to worry about.

“I’m also going to suggest obedience classes,” Kara continued, flipping the packet of papers to show them a flier. “We offer one three times a week that I think would help both of you and your new pup,”

“This is the one Lotte takes Brownie to,” Alessia noted, taking the flier.

Leah hummed. “Beth and Viv took Lady last week too,”

“Friends in class are good,” Kara nodded. “It will help her to be around the same pets, and she should feel more comfortable,”

Alessia and Leah shared a look.

Making you comfortable was their number one priority.

“We’ll be there,” Alessia said, only looking away from her girlfriend when a light knock sounded G the door, and it slowly swung open.

Lexa peeked her head in, before she looked behind her. “Alessia and Leah are in here, don’t you want to say hello?”

They waited another long second, before your face very hesitantly appeared beside Lexa’s leg in the doorway.

“Hey pretty girl, you’re ok,” Alessia said, breaking into a smile.

You perked up considerably at her voice, looking up at Lexa as though you were asking for permission to actually enter the room.

“Go ahead,” Lexa smiled down at you, reaching down to unclip the leash from your collar. “I think they’re excited to see you too,”

You waited a long second before you eased your way into the room, your blue blanket tied around your collar so it fell around your back like a cape.

“Come here sweetheart,” Alessia cooed, drawing your wary eyes away from Lexa and Kara towards her and Leah.

It took you another long second to make your way over to her, gently nudging her leg with your head.

She reached down to scratch the sensitive spot just behind your ear, over where the straps of the leather muzzle landed.

“Are you sure she needs that?” Leah asked, watching you carefully paw the material that covered your mouth.

“It’s just precautionary,” Lexa repeated, taking the seat beside Kara. “She’s not aggressive, but fear can provoke a reaction bite. I would suggest she wear it when you’re going to be around people and other pets, just until she’s socialized and loses that fear response,”

Leah and Alessia shared a hum, though Alessia didn’t look thrilled with the suggestion.

They understood, yes, but it felt… dehumanizing. You were a person after all, despite what you had been conditioned to believe.

At the same time, they both knew they couldn’t risk you biting someone, even out of fear.

“We just need a name for her to complete the paperwork,” Kara said, flipping the packet to the last page. “You can use pretty girl if you like,”

Leah and Alessia shared another look.

While pretty girl was a nice nickname for you, they had something different in mind for your actual name.

“Let’s go with Y/n,” Leah said, looking back towards Kara and Lexa.

You hummed contentedly at the name, leaning into Alessia’s fingers.

“I think she likes that name,” Alessia cooed, digger her nails under the straps of the muzzle, making sure none of your hair tangled in it.

You made another sound of contentment as Kara finished filling out the papers and slid them to Leah and Alessia.

“Just sign on the dotted line, and she’s all yours,”

It only took them a second to scrawl their signatures on the indicated lines, and then Alex’s was passing them your leash.

“Enjoy your new super pup,” Lexa said, winking at you. “And treat her well,”

“We will,” Leah promised.

They would take care of you, and fix the damage that had been done if it was the last thing they ever did.

OoOoOoO

Getting you back to their apartment had been… interesting.

You had not been thrilled about the chest harness they strapped you into, but you hadn’t minded the car ride, even enjoying it when Alessia opened the back window for you.

It was fine until they pulled up alongside a car that also had a pup in the back. You had pulled away from the window immediately, nearly jumping into the boot of Leah’s jeep before he started barking.

By the time the light changed and Leah eased the car forward, you were shaking like a leaf. It struck both of them as slightly off considering you had been trained to be a fighting dog.

You had been very hesitant as they got you out of the car, your eyes swiveling around as they led you into their apartment and showed you around.

Since then you had been curled up on the soft pet bed they had stationed in the living room, not even letting them close enough to you to remove the muzzle.

They knew it would take time for you to settle. Their friends had all warned them of that already, so they let you be, flipping through channels until they got to a shark documentary that seemed to catch your attention.

Alessia was thankful that the kitchen was connected to the living room so she didn’t have to leave you as she made dinner. Not that she didn’t trust Leah to watch you, but she didn’t want you to think she had disappeared.

The first step to building trust was to show you that they were there, and you were safe.

She stuck with simple foods, chicken and rice, partially because Leah didn’t like anything remotely adventurous and partially because she didn’t know what you would enjoy.

She and Leah ate first, sharing worried looks when you didn’t even patter over at the smell of food.

After their meal was cleaned up, they turned their attention to you.

They started by sitting on the floor in front of their couch, a good distance from your pet bed, with your food bowl.

“Hey pretty girl, are you hungry?” Alessia asked gently, holding the bowl out for you to sniff. “If you come a little closer I can take your muzzle off and you can eat,”

You didn’t lift your head off of hand, or make any move to approach them.

Your nostrils didn’t even flare out to smell the bowl.

It sent red flags spinning in their brains.

They shared a look before Alessia passed the bowl to Leah and scooted closer to you, to the edge of your bed. “Ok pretty girl, will you let me take the muzzle off?”

Your eyes flickered away from shark show and towards the blonde briefly, before your head tilted minutely.

She took that as the ok to reach for the buckle on the leather contraption attached to your face, carefully easing it open and sliding it off of your head.

You yawned wide as soon as it was removed, scrunching your nose adorably.

Alessia passed the leather contraption she never intended to use again back to Leah, and the defender passed her the bowl.

She reached into the bowl and pulled out a piece of chicken, carefully holding it out to you with a flat palm. “Eat for me, pretty girl,”

You huffed.

“Please,” Alessia said, her voice edging on pleading as she offered you the piece again.

You sighed, clearly unhappy, but you leaned forward and took the piece of chicken from her gently, chewing and swallowing.

“Good girl, Y/n,” The forward hummed, reaching into the bowl and pulling out another piece.

You let her feed you a few more bites before you buried your face in your bed, clearly signaling that you were finished with your meal.

Alessia sighed again, looking back at Leah who could only shrug.

She turned back to you and slowly extended her hand, scratching behind your ear. “You can be done,”

You made a groaning noise that sounded like relief.

Leah snorted, pushing herself to her feet and grabbing the half-filled bowl of food from Alessia. “I don’t think I ever per a pet who was happy dinner was over,”

“Y/n is one of a kind,” Alessia agreed, her nails dragging pleasantly against your scalp.

OoOoOoO

Bedtime was relatively easy.

Alessia and Leah went about their normal routines, only adding brushing your teeth and showing you where there was a second bed for you at the base of their bed.

This one had a fluffy red blanket and a stuffed dragon.

You had been… hesitant at first to get into it, looking at the door for the blue bed that existed in the living room.

You chose to sit just in front of it, curling in a little ball that didn’t look comfortable, and draping your favorite blue blanket around you. (Alessia longed to fix it since it was bunched and only covered half of your body).

Again, Leah and Alessia let you be.

Lights were turned off as a stupid show played on the television as all three of you wound down, and before you knew it, a silence had settled over the room. It was broken only by the sounds of breathing and the occasional shift on the bed.

It was… uncomfortable.

You weren’t used to it being so… quiet.

You were used to the sounds of barks, and chain link shifting lulling you to sleep. You were used to a corner you could curl up in.

You weren’t used to a bed, and you wanted to lay in it but you were sure it was a… trap.

Just like you had thought the chicken Alessia tried to feed you was a trap.

It had always been a trap before.

You huffed, shifting next to the pet bed.

Maybe if you slept in it, but woke up before the two women who had adopted you, you would be safe.

It was soft, and you would be warm.

You shifted again, freezing at the sound of someone moving from on the bed permeated the room.

You had woken them up, and now the other shoe would finally fall.

You curled tighter into yourself and waited for the pain that never came.

Instead, there were only soft footsteps.

“Trouble sleeping?”

Your eyes blinked open at Leah’s soft question, meeting her blue eyes in the low light of the television.

You nodded hesitantly.

“Me neither,” Leah agreed. “Let’s go get a midnight snack,”

You padded after the defender as she headed towards the kitchen, stopping by the island near the stove as she headed for the cabinet by the fridge.

She grabbed a brown jar with a teal lid, setting it on the counter before rummaging around in the drawer below.

“Ah ha,” She cheered, holding up a spoon victoriously, grabbing the Jar, and turning to face you.

Your head tilted to the side at the object.

“I think you’ll like this,” She said, unscrewing the top and dipping in the spoon.

When she pulled it out, the most delicious-smelling substance you had ever encountered coated it.

You watched with rapt attention as the spoon disappeared into her mouth and came out clean.

Your mouth watered.

“Peanut butter?” Leah asked, tilting the jar your way.

Your head tilted, and you just barely leaned forward on your knuckles as your nose flared, trying to catch more of the scent.

Leah’s lips tilted up at how adorable you looked, as she dipped the spoon back in the jar and then held it out for you. It was just out of your reach, closer to her than you had ventured yet.

You had an immediate connection with Alessia but were still incredibly wary of her for some reason, she tried not to let it bother her.

You were hesitant to take the step forward.

But it smelled so good.

Your tummy rumbled, and your tongue darted across your lips.

Leah stayed perfectly still, watching you with bated breath. She knew this was the only way to build trust with you. To show you that they wouldn’t hurt you.

You very slowly took a step, tilting your head towards the offered treat, your eyes moving rapidly between her and the spoon.

Your tongue carefully made its way between your lips and licked the spoon.

Your eyes went very wide at the taste, and you quickly leaned closer to take the spoon into your mouth.

“Good right?” Leah asked with a chuckle as the spoon came out of your mouth, completely free of peanut butter.

You woofed softly, using your nose to nudge the now empty spoon back towards Leah, eyeing the jar on the counter.

She followed your eyes, shaking her head. “How about we try something else?”

Alessia would kill her if she found out all you had eaten was Peanut Butter when you hadn’t been interested at all in dinner. She would point out that you needed carbs and protein to help you get to a healthy weight while being healthy. Neither of them liked how… skeletal you were, and any food was good really, but so was balance to give you the most sustainable energy they could.

Leah searched the counter, looking for something to pair with the only food you seemed to like.

“What about some banana?” She asked, grabbing for the fruit.

She opened it and broke off a piece, offering it to you.

You leaned forward to sniff it and pulled back in disgust.

“What about if we add some Peanut butter?” She asked, digging the spoon back into the peanut butter and sticking the pale yellow slice on top.

You stared at her skeptically, sure that the fruit would ruin the delicious brown treat underneath.

“It’s good, trust me,” Leah promised when your eyes flickered back up to her.

You huffed, scrunching your nose up at it, and then flinching away when you realized what you had done.

“No pretty girl, you’re ok,” Leah said, dropping her voice and immediately sinking down so she was on the same level as you. She didn’t want to frighten you. “You’re allowed to not like things,”

You curled into yourself, tucking your body as close as you could to the island.

Leah wondered idly if Alessia would have elicited the same reaction from you. You seemed to trust the forward more for whatever reason.

She gently pulled the banana bit off of the spoon, popping it into her mouth and offering the peanut butter to you once again.

You sniffed, barely peeking out at her.

She understood now why peanut butter was the only food on your list at the shelter.

It was the only thing besides Alessia (and maybe your blue blanket) that you would risk coming out of your shell for.

“You can have it,” Leah assured you, keeping her voice soothing and calm, ignoring the soft sound of padding feet coming down the hallway from their bedroom. “You’re ok,”

You sniffed again, wishing you had brought your blanket with you on this excursion. Bad things always happened when you forgot it.

You wanted to trust Leah, and the peanut butter did smell amazing.

Very slowly, you leaned forward towards the spoon, making eye contact with Leah before you took it back into your mouth.

She kept still as you licked it clean with a satisfied sigh, and pulled away.

“Let’s go to bed,” She said, slowly pushing herself to stand, placing the spoon in the sink to be dealt with in the morning, and putting the jar of Skippy back into the cabinet.

You woofed again softly, padding after her once she was done.

Maybe things would be good here.

#woso x reader #engwnt x reader #woso imagine #lionesses x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #Alessia Russo X Leah Williamson x Reader #Sheltered!universe

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dragonbleps · 4 months ago

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Lizzers 🦎

#missy rambles #reptile #lizard #anole #brown anole #bark anole #i really gotta figure out distinguishing features between brown and bark

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adamstnheights · 2 years ago

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Stitches - Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Summary: You’re the newest recruit to 141 and still trying to figure out your intimidating, mysterious lieutenant. Being assigned as his partner on the field for the first time on a sniper mission, you’re unsure exactly how to act around him, especially when he has such an… effect on you. But when you both get caught in the crossfire, you’re forced to take cover with him and mend his wounds, much to his (begrudging) appreciation.

An alternative take on the Recon by Fire mission in MWII. Also based loosely around the Simon Riley ASMR video by Jim ASMR on YouTube because it was just so cute :)

Reader’s callsign is Zero (iykyk)

Content: Reader uses she/her pronouns, Sniper Reader, Reader used to want to be a medic, Military Inaccuracies, Medical Inaccuracies, Gunshot Wounds, Ghost being super soft, You taking care of Ghost, Ghost taking care of you, Gentle touches, Needles, Bandages, Stitches, Developing feelings, Ghost trusting you, Flirting, Fluff, Ghost is a cat person (REAL)

Word Count: 7.4k

“Ghost and Zero, you’ll station up at the top of the hill and see if you can take any of the cartel guards out from a distance,” Price ordered over comms. “When the path is clear, Gaz and I will move into the hatchery and clear them out, looking for any evidence of the missiles. Laswell will be out on the water on overwatch. If we need her, she can get to shore and join us in the hatchery.”

Usually, you would be standing in the debriefing room to hear your instructions for a mission, but because of the short notice and urgency, you were listening to Price’s voice over comms in the back of one of the task force’s vans. While Price continued to speak, you slowly let your gaze move over to where Ghost was sitting across from you in the back of the van, only for your whole body to seize up when you realized that he was already staring at you. And of course, you couldn’t tell what the hell he was thinking—basically his whole expression was covered by his mask. It frustrated you to no end. It felt like he always had the upper hand, not allowing the enemy or opposition to get a read on his face, which was understandable, but you wanted to know. You wanted to be able to know what he was thinking. In comparison, it made you feel extremely vulnerable. Maybe you’d look into getting your own mask.

Being the rookie made you feel extremely out of place. It didn’t matter you had five years of being a sniper under your belt; you’ve only been with them for six months, so to the rest of Task Force 141, you were still the newbie. Talk about your skill had been passed around by word of mouth, and soon Captain John Price had approached your former unit and proposed a deal to you that was too good to pass up. So a few months and a location change later, you were the newest addition to 141, thus securing your label as “the rookie.” There wasn’t really anything you could do about it.

Luckily, the guys in the unit welcomed you with open arms, although the kindness did come along with a fair share of humorous and flirtatious remarks. Soap and Gaz basically took you under their wing immediately, taking pride in teaching you new things and showing you the ropes of 141. They urged you to join in on their game nights and when they would go out to the bar after a hard day of training or a rough mission. You felt at ease around the other men, too, for the most part.

Ghost was another story. From the first time you met him, you were intimidated. He had a towering, large figure that could speak for itself, but also his voice was deep and gruff, especially when he was barking out orders. You weren’t scared of him, per se, but you were cautious. From the interactions you’ve had with him and the way you’ve observed him on missions, you definitely wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. He was mysterious—the mask and skull cover showed that the most, but on top of that, you noticed the way he expertly dodged any prying questions that Soap would ask him over comms during a mission. When you and the rest of the crew got drunk and began spewing out stories from your former lives, you noticed how Ghost would simply sit back and listen, observe, but not provide any stories of his own. You were sure he had his reasons for being closed off, but you couldn’t help but wish that he were… more approachable. Especially now that you were on your first mission with just him by your side, you felt like you knew him the least out of the other members of 141.

The van slowly and quietly came to a stop towards the top of the hill. Ghost opened the back doors and jumped out onto the ground and you followed, rifle in hand.

“Zero, on me,” Ghost said, nodding his head his way.

The fog along the coastline was thick—good for the enemies not spotting you, but not as good for you spotting the enemies. You stationed yourself about forty yards away from the edge of the uppermost hill, where the grass was thick and high. The outline of the hatchery could be seen far, far in the distance, right along the edge of the land. From where you and Ghost were crouching, you could see below where a dirt path winded slowly down the hills. It would take some time and patience to fully push forward and make it safe enough for Price and Gaz to breach the buildings down below. But you were ready; more importantly, you were counting on this mission to prove your worthiness to Ghost. It was kind of pathetic. You knew you were a damn good sniper out on the battlefield, and yet, ever since Ghost’s intense, unreadable gaze landed on you, you’d felt determined to do whatever it took to get his approval. It didn’t help that the way he looked at you kind of really made your heart race, in the most confusing way, and the periodic sarcastic jokes he would make over comms made him more endearing.

Still, you didn’t want to push your luck. The last thing you wanted was for this mission to bring you back to square one in terms of your reputation on the team. In front of you, Ghost crouched even lower to the ground, pointing his rifle outward and looking through the scope. You fell back slightly behind him, also crouching in the grass. After a few moments of silence, you furrowed your brow at him, unsure whether he was going to say something or if he was just trying to act like you weren’t even there. Maybe he was annoyed by you, annoyed that out of everyone else on 141, he was stuck with the rookie.

Finally, he nodded his head forwards, motioning you to follow him. Both of you crawled through the grass until you reached closer to the edge of the hill. You both got down, fully lying on the dirt. Through the fog, you could now make out the wire fences around the hatchery, where cartel were guarding the entrances and walking along the dirt paths surrounding it.

“I can see about ten of ’em, all ’round the entrance fence,” Ghost finally broke the silence.

“We need to take our time,” you said, “They’ll spread out, into groups of two or three. Then we can take them out.”

“I’ll follow your lead,” he replied, “Let me know who to take out.” Normally, he would be argumentative to a new recruit taking the initiative, but there was something about you that fascinated him. He didn’t mind hearing your voice walking through the plan and telling him what to do. Price had told him about your skill; he knew that you knew what you were doing.

You readjusted your rifle just so, looking through the scope.

“On top of the building, two snipers,” you announced, “Do you see my laser on your thermal?”

You could hear Ghost repositioning his rifle a couple feet away from you in the grass. “Affirmative.”

“Go.”

You pulled the trigger, hitting the sniper on the right. Mere seconds afterwards, you heard Ghost’s rifle go off and through the scope you could see the second sniper’s body fall over.

“Got ’im,” he said. “On the right side of the fence, near the blue shipping container, there’s two.”

“I’m on him,” you said, lining up your shot next to his.

Ghost shot first this time, you followed him. The two men by the shipping container dropped to the ground. You continued scanning the area.

“Three more, below, closer to us, walking by that white van,” you flexed your hand and regripped the trigger.

“I’ll get the stray,” Ghost said.

“Copy that.”

You lined up your shot to the guy furthest to the right, watching as Ghost’s laser appeared over the man next to him. Again, seconds after you shot, Ghost followed, taking out the other. He quickly readjusted his hold on the rifle to focus in on the third one of the group. As you watched through the scope, the third man immediately went onto high alert, pointing his gun around him. Ghost wasn’t worried though as he lined up his shot. Poor bloke; unlike the first two men, this one would spend his last living seconds in panic mode.

Unfortunately, in the few seconds in between, the third man shouted and seemingly alerted someone else. Immediately after Ghost shot him down, two more men came running into view, shooting upwards towards the two of you. With a few uncoordinated shots, you and Ghost took them down quickly, but the not-so-subtle gunfire from your direction gave away your position. Before you could even think about moving, a bullet sped right past your view and into Ghost’s arm.

“Fuckin’ hell!” Ghost grunted, sucking in his breath in pain. “Where the fuck—?”

You were frantically scanning the area for where the shot could have come from when another bullet came speeding towards you, and you felt a sharp pain searing through your own arm. Furrowing your brow, you struggled to look even harder through the scope. “Shit—!” You winced.

“Got ’im,” Ghost announced, pulling the trigger, “To your left, on top of that small shed. There was another one.”

“Fuck.” You noticed two more men emerging from behind the shed. Both of you quickly took them down. “We– We need to push forward, we don’t have the best view from here. I can’t tell if we cleared the whole area.”

“Copy that.”

You began to crawl forward, the pressure of leaning on your right arm not helping the gash there. Before you could crawl even a foot you felt an unfamiliar touch on your forearm. Ghost had placed his gloved hand there, and you turned to look at him.

“You okay?” He asked lowly. You nodded your head, too shocked to speak.

You and Ghost quickly moved forward, onto an area of grass a bit lower down the hill than where you were before. You could see a bit closer now, and from the new angle, you could make out the rest of the area below. There were a handful more men on guard around the building, and you gripped your rifle hard in an attempt to distract your body from the pain. You monitored Ghost’s laser and helped him take out the men accordingly. Barely any more gunfire was exchanged.

“Price, Gaz—we cleared the outside surroundings of the buildings. You should be good to go in now,” he directed over comms.

“Copy. Good work, you two,” Price replied.

You met Ghost’s eyes from between the blades of grass and you could tell that he was intentionally not letting Price know that you two got hit. You could have spoken up yourself but you had successfully eliminated everyone and neither bullet seemed to have hit anything critical. Giving the lieutenant a knowing nod, you scanned the area and noticed a stream of water by a small stone building. It wasn’t really a building, more like a small hut. Ghost saw where you were looking and nodded his head towards it, giving you the go ahead.

Crouching slightly, you both quickly snuck towards the stone shack. Ghost positioned himself to cover the rickety wooden door, which you kicked in, instantly holding your rifle up to clear the inside. He followed you close behind, checking all corners of the worn-over room. Everything inside was covered in moss or other overgrown plants.

“Clear.” Ghost stated, lowering his gun. You were already sliding down against the stone wall towards the corner of the room, grasping the side of your arm. Ghost rushed to your side, sitting next to you. “Here,” he went to look at your arm, but you expertly reached for him first.

“Show me yours first,” you whispered, “Mine’s just a graze. Yours is worse.”

“Are you defying your superior?” He asked. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

“Yours is worse,” you repeated, shaking your head, “The bullet lodged in there. I need to take a look.” You were staring at his left bicep, where the layers of jacket and shirts were ripped into by the bullet. The hole in Ghost’s skin was large, bleeding profusely.

“It’s nothing,” he grumbled, “I’m more worried about you, Zero.”

Your eyebrow raised and you tilted your head up to look at him. Behind the mask, you could see his eyes clearly. They were hazel, and for probably one of the first times since you’ve known him, they looked soft and genuine. Up close, you could see little spots where the black paint smudged and his skin was peeking through. His eyelashes were blonde, slightly covered by some black face paint, but definitely blonde. Suddenly, you were trying to picture Ghost’s blonde hair under the mask and balaclava. You weren’t as intimidated by him anymore as you were intrigued—deep down, you wished you could see more of him.

From what you’ve observed of him (plus things Soap and Gaz have said), you knew he wasn’t really as big and scary as he seemed to be. He cracked jokes over comms during missions. During downtime on base he’d join the rest of the group playing cards or drinking, still wearing his balaclava obviously, but without the skull cover and only minimal black eye black on, so you could see more of his face clearly. You would never admit it to the rest of the guys, certainly not Soap, but you found Ghost to be quite handsome. (You could just hear Soap teasing you: You don’t even know what he looks like! He could be ugly!) Between his deep voice, towering figure, and the way his hands worked around his rifle (you have stared too many times to admit), he was… hot. What more could you say? It felt like a silly high school crush; he was your superior and you barely knew anything about him. But… you wished you could learn more. You would, if he’d let you. You would.

And now, with his face only inches away from yours, his eyes looking at you intently, you felt determined to take care of him. You wanted to see that softer side of him, and you also wanted an excuse to dote on him. Already, he was acting a bit more flustered than usual with you trying to defy him. You wondered how long you’d be able to keep it up for.

“I’m not taking that for an answer,” you insisted. “Yours is worse, so we’re taking care of you first.”

Ghost raised his eyebrows, his mouth partly open in shock of your defiance, but his lips spread into a smirk, amused by your determined edge. He was intrigued by you, so he’d let you win this argument. He didn’t say anything more as you inched closer to him. He sat with his entire back against the wall, facing forward. You turned your body towards him, sitting cross-legged as you placed a hand on his arm where the bullet wound was.

“I… think you’re going to have to take this off. The jacket, at least. Sorry, Lieutenant,” you said.

“You can call me Ghost, you know,” he said as he leaned forward to unclip his tactical vest and shuck the jacket off.

“Sorry,” you said quietly, “I was just trying to be polite, I guess.”

“Don’t need to be polite with me,” he smirked.

“Okay… Ghost,” you smiled. You took off your own tactical vest and rummaged through the back pockets, pulling out your first aid kit. You opened the kit and took out the tweezers. “Sorry if this hurts.”

“S’alright, not the worst thing I’ve endured. And I haven’t had the privilege of such an… assertive patching up,” Ghost could feel himself blushing behind the mask. He was glad you couldn’t see.

First, you inspected the bullet. It had implanted inside his arm, making it impossible for any kind of extraction, especially under conditions like these. With only minimal shattering, the pieces embedded into the muscle, there were no critical places hit or at risk. Your main goal was to stop the bleeding so you could stitch the wound closed.

“It seems like… most of your muscle absorbed the bullet. No bone damage or critical areas hit, so… all I’m gonna do is stitch you up,” you explained. You held back a giggle, pushing away the urge to squeeze his arm; you weren’t entirely sure if he’d like that very much (you were almost positive he’d kill you). “When we get back to base, the nurses at the infirmary can keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn’t get infected or anything, and if not, then it’ll just heal over.”

“Aw, no trophy for me to take home?” Ghost asked.

“You still get to take it home,” you replied, taking your two fingers and tapping his arm above the wound, “just in here. Hey, now it’ll always be with you.” He shuddered at your touch.

You began cleaning around and in the wound, earning a sharp hiss from Ghost’s mouth as you wiped the area off with a small rag and some water from your hydration bladder. You poured some water slowly onto the wound, trying to flush out any dirt or debris, before placing some gauze over it and applying pressure to slow the bleeding. While your one hand was pushing against his arm, you reached your other hand back into the first aid kit, fishing around for your stitching tools. You took out a needle with thread, along with a needle driver. You placed the needle driver on your leg for the time being.

You dug into one of your pockets, brandishing a small square alcohol wipe package, which you promptly ripped open with your teeth so you wouldn’t have to set the needle down. Ghost practically had to hold back from choking on his own breath, the way you were so focused and determined was certainly making him feel some unfamiliar type of way. He had barely gotten a chance to hesitate or argue against you patching him up, he was too mesmerized in watching you and you were already grabbing a hold of his arm again, sending a tingle down his spine as you cleaned his wound.

Then, with one hand, you pierced the skin on one side of the open wound with the needle, then the other side. Your other hand held the needle driver, which you used to grip onto the end of the needle, pulling the thread through the newly made holes. With an even amount of thread left on either side of the wound, you wrapped the thread from the left side around the needle driver twice, then grabbed the other end of the thread with the driver. You pulled from both ends gently, making a first throw of the stitch. You did it again, looping the one side of the thread around the driver, grasping the other end, and pulling it tightly to make the knot. Ghost watched, almost in awe, at your expert handiwork. You made it look so easy.

“I... wanted to be a nurse, or a medic, or whatever, you know,” you rambled as you moved up the wound a few centimeters, piercing the skin to start another stitch, “I made it through undergrad and then… shit just didn’t really work out. But hey, I found out I was a pretty good sniper. So I’m good for somethin’, at least.”

Simon felt his whole body heating up from the way both of your hands were making contact with his upper arm. One hand was gently pressing down on his bicep around the wound while your other had the needle held in between your fingers. The gash you were closing up on him was large; it was certainly going to leave Ghost with a jagged scar. But for once, he felt at ease.

In all his years in the military, the marks and scars that have riddled his body only brought him more shame and discomfort. Sure, there were a few scars that were his “go-to” to talk about when the other guys began showing off about past endeavors (This one here, knife fight. I grabbed the bloke from behind and stabbed’im in the neck, but not before he got one in my side). Other than that, most of the bullet holes and jagged lines where his skin couldn’t fully heal only reminded him of the horrors and the pain. Now, though, the thought of having a scar on his arm from a wound that you took care of, he couldn’t be more elated. A mark on his body, stitched together carefully and gracefully by you. A secret moment—a memory—that only the two of you shared, forever imprinted into his arm; a scar that no one else would know the backstory to, unless he decided to tell it (he wouldn’t—he didn’t want to share this moment with anyone else).

Okay, so maybe some sort of feelings were blossoming in the cold, cold heart of Simon Riley. You didn’t have much of an idea about it, and honestly, neither did Ghost himself. Soap had teased him multiple times about a supposed “crush” that Ghost didn’t fully realize he had. But the sergeant certainly had. Soap teased him about how he always insisted he didn’t want to play cards with the rest of the team, only to grab a seat next to you and strategize how to beat everyone else. Was it an excuse to sit real close to you and exchange whispers and laughter? Soap would never get an answer because Ghost would tell him to fuck off, but he already knew the answer anyways.

Ghost’s heart was racing, suddenly and somehow nervous in your presence.

“Why do they call you Zero?” He asked abruptly, a random question spilling from his lips. He just wanted to keep hearing you talk to him.

“Isn’t that like, impolite to ask?” You smirked.

He laughed—a genuine, full out laugh. Your eyes brightened. “I’m only curious,” he said softly. “Jus’ tryin’ to make conversation.”

“Well, why do they call you Ghost?” You shot back playfully.

“Now that’s classified, love.” His eyes immediately widened as the endearing term slipped from his lips. He hoped you didn’t catch it; meanwhile, you were going to think about it for the rest of the week. You grinned to yourself, and he looked down at his hands and focused on how your needle pierced his skin—a certain amount of discomfort, but something that felt good knowing that you were right there next to him. He didn’t want to get into his callsign; however, he was willing to give you something else. “My name—my real name, I mean… It’s Simon.”

You stared at him, wide eyed. You almost couldn’t believe that he told you, you hadn’t expected him to want you to know something like that. “Simon,” you repeated, watching as he nodded his head. “That’s a nice name. Simon. So… am I allowed to call you Simon now?”

Ghost looked past you at the wall for a brief moment, thinking. “Not on the field,” he stated, “But… when we’re back on base… sure. Yeah. Call me Simon.”

You shivered at his deep voice. Simon, Simon, Simon. You wanted to say it again and again. And he wanted to hear you say it. He would like his name a thousand times better if it was coming from your mouth.

“Simon—”

“Hey.”

“Sorry. Ghost,” you giggled.

Three stitches down. You kept working, quickly and efficiently. Ghost kept watching you, wondering why Price hadn’t brought you onto the team as a medic. Not that your sniping abilities weren’t needed and greatly appreciated, but Ghost selfishly thought about how from now on, if he got so much as a small scrape, he’d go to you for help. Soon enough, you were finishing the last throw on the fourth stitch. You moved onto the next one, lacing the thread through the needle to start again.

“Don’t know how to use half the shit in the first aid kit,” now it was Ghost’s turn to ramble, “Usually just slap a bandage on ’n hope for the best. I mean, I’m not stupid, I don’t leave my shit untouched to get infected or anything. I just… don’t really follow up on any of my doctor’s appointments. But I’ve made it alright so far.”

“You should let yourself be taken care of more often,” you said softly. Your face grew hot when you realized the way that could have sounded and you added, “When you get hurt like this. You don’t have to always put on a brave face and grit through the pain. You need to take care of yourself.”

Ghost scoffed almost instinctively, but his heart swelled at your concern for him. He admired you for being so caring, not just to him, but to everyone on the team. Despite not always showing it, he cared deeply about all of the other guys on 141, he would die for any of them. He didn’t have a family, but 141 was the closest he had to one. The way his team interacted with each other was important to him, and watching how you melded with everyone else over the past couple of months, he felt happy, content. Your kindness only intrigued him more; he wished that he could be the only recipient of your sweet words and attention.

“Well, I– I don’t usually trust anyone to patch me up,” he attempted at some sort of compliment. Your eyebrow raised and you looked up at him.

“Hmm. So… you trust me then?” You asked cautiously. You heard stories about how Ghost hardly trusted anyone, and your heart began to beat faster at the implication that you had somehow made it on the list of those he did.

“You could say that,” he said. He cursed himself in his mind for not knowing how to properly talk to you, how to make you feel cared about the way you made everyone else feel cared about.

“And what’s that supposed to mean exactly?” A smirk spread across your face.

“Fuck’s sake, just take the compliment, will ya?” Ghost practically grumbled, sounding like an annoyed child.

You let out a soft laugh. Ghost put the sound of your laugh into the back of his mind, for safekeeping. “That’s your way of giving me a compliment, huh?” You teased.

“M’not very good at it, am I?” He sighed into a small laugh.

“Just a bit rusty,” you tilted your head up at him, your faces somehow closer than you had remembered, “But you can get better with practice.”

“Practice, hm?”

“Uh-huh. You can feel free to practice your compliments and pick up lines on me anytime.” You were too shy to make eye contact with him after that; you began to focus extremely on his wound.

Ghost’s right eyebrow raised slightly, unable to properly register whether you were genuinely insinuating that you would enjoy it if he flirted with you. As if he even knew how to. Suddenly, he felt embarrassed that he had no idea what to say. He thought about Johnny, and how his downright stupid pick up lines he used on people at the bar usually actually worked. There was no way Johnny would let him hear the end of it if he approached him for help with flirting, but Ghost wondered who else he would want to confide in when they returned to base.

“Almost finished,” you announced, finishing another suture. The skin was carefully pulled back together, only needing one or two more stitches. “I am fairly confident that this will heal very quickly and very nicely. Well, granted that you go back to the infirmary and get yourself followed up on.” You raised your eyebrows at him expectantly.

“Do I have to go to the infirmary when we get back?” He complained. You laughed at the way he practically whined.

You looped the thread again with the needle driver and began the last suture. In a matter of moments, you’d knotted the thread three times over and secured the suture flat to the skin. You moved your head closer to inspect your work, nodding and looking up at him.

“Well, I’m done stitching you up. And yes, you do, because you need to make sure your wound doesn’t get infected,” you said, half sternly. Soap told you probably hundreds of stories about Ghost refusing to get proper medical help after returning from a mission, and your fleeting former life as an almost-nurse made you feel very strongly on the topic. “Please, after all I did to stitch you together, won’t you make sure that it heals alright?”

His heart swelled. As much as he tried to push down feelings like this, he knew that he’d do anything for you. And you asked so nicely. However, he had a negotiation in mind.

“Well… What if I get checked up on by you? When we get back to base? You know, instead of going to the infirmary?” He raised his eyebrow and watched the gears turn in your mind. He prayed that his message would come across properly: I’d rather see you. I trust you more.

“Don’t go getting too attached to your medic, now,” you fake tsk-ed at him, but you were smiling, too. Ghost laughed. Too late for that.

“You can give me a once over when we get back. Vouch for me so I don’t have to go deal with the other doctors,” he pushed.

“You’re very difficult, Ghost,” you tutted. “But… I’d rather be the one to make sure you’re alright. That way I can ensure you’re following the proper recovery routine.” You reached into your kit again and got out a bandage roll. You reached out for his arm again, beginning to wrap the bandage gauze around his arm.

“And what kind of recovery routine would you want me to follow?”

You clicked your tongue, thinking. “You have to let me eat dinner with you in your room. And then after, I can check your wound,” you decided. Luckily, the words coming out of your mouth were far from Go on a date with me, but it was certainly the closest you’d get. Ghost hardly ever ate dinner in the common area with the rest of the task force, you assumed mostly because eating would involve him having to pull his mask up. Remembering this fact, you quickly added, “I won’t even look at you while you eat. I just… thought maybe you’d like some company.”

He stopped himself from blurting out something inappropriate, a dumb teasing line about you just trying to make up an excuse to get into his bedroom. His usual confidence to say whatever dumb, crass joke he wanted disappeared with you so close to him. He was more nervous than anything to scare you away, to say something that would make you not want to be around him.

“I’d accept that,” he finally said. “And… you wouldn’t need to do that.” He could feel his heart pounding out of his chest. “You’re allowed to take a look at me while I’m eating.” He smirked as he saw your cheeks grow red.

“I— I mean, I didn’t mean I wanted to like, stare at you while you’re—” you tripped over your words, stopping to take a breath and collect your thoughts. Slowly, you opened your mouth again, “Well, I mean, I am curious… I guess…”

Ghost was smiling proudly under his mask, finding it incredibly endearing the way you admitted your curiosity. He always stuck to his secrecy behind the mask for the most part; he was sure that the other guys had seen his jawline and mouth from the times he ate or drank around them, but they never made too big of a deal (besides Soap, who would use the mask as a prime source for his teasing). More often than not, on base, he’d retreat to his room to eat simply to avoid any annoyances around lifting the mask up and back down over and over. But now, really thinking about it, he realized he wouldn’t mind at all if you saw him eating. Maybe, just maybe, he would enjoy your company for dinner on a daily basis. He wouldn’t jump to that conclusion just yet, but in the back of his mind, he already knew.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Ghost said, “I’d rather be able to look at you and talk to you while we eat.”

“So you’re taking my offer,” you beamed.

“That I am. Now let me look at you.”

The lacerations along your own arm were stinging and bleeding, but somehow the high of the lieutenant caring about you overrode that pain. Still, you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to have Ghost dote on you, although you had a feeling he wouldn’t be as gentle as you were with him. Either way, you let him help you take your jacket off and you shuddered at the few moments his bare hand brushed against you. He placed his hands on either side of you, on your shoulders, turning you more towards him, closer to him. He looked at your arm.

“Look, we have matching wounds,” he said, raising his own arm up next to yours. You let out a small laugh, not expecting him to say something like that. It was sweet.

“We both have something to remember this day by.”

“You want to remember this?” He asked, as if he weren’t going to think about the way you gently stitched him up and took care of him for the rest of his life.

“Of course,” you replied, “We completed our mission, quite well, I might add, and I think we make a good team. Plus, you told me your name. So of course I want to remember this.”

Ghost blinked at you, trying to decipher any evidence of disingenuousness in your face, only to be met with the exact opposite. Your expression was soft and genuine. Your eyes shimmered for him. Ghost wasn’t used to hearing such nice, kind things towards himself, and you could tell he wasn’t used to it by the way he remained silent, not even coming up with a dry joke to change the subject. You wondered how many times you would have to compliment him before you could really get through to him.

“You’re staring, Zero,” Ghost’s deep voice brought you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, “Can’t help that you’re nice to look at.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, trying to ignore the way his cheeks were flushing again. His hands were slightly shaky as he took your arm, closer to him this time. He shifted his whole body so he was completely facing you, ready to patch you up.

You had only been grazed by the bullet, but it still hurt like hell. Your whole right arm was burning up with a searing pain, not the worst you’ve ever felt, but it definitely wasn’t comfortable. The skin on your arm wasn’t torn open the same way Ghost’s was, with the bullet embedding inside, but it was like the edge of the bullet tried to scoop into your skin like a shovel into dirt. It didn’t go through or below the skin, but it was deep enough that blood was trickling down your arm. You were so focused on taking care of Ghost that you had barely noticed it.

“Fuckin’ hell, Zero,” Ghost said, his eyes widening in concern from seeing your wound more clearly. “You’re lucky the bullet didn’t lodge in ya.”

He reached next to him and grabbed a wad of gauze, dampening it with some water and placing it over you. His large hand placed pressure on you to stop the bleeding. You tried not to think about his hand pushing against you in a different context. His hands were warm on you and you couldn’t help but shiver. You hoped he didn’t notice the goosebumps along your arm.

After a few minutes of applying pressure to your wound, Ghost lifted up the gauze, inspecting you.

“Looks like the blood mostly stopped,” he told you, putting the wad of gauze next to him on the ground. He took out his own alcohol wipes, holding them up first as if to warn you This might hurt. He held your arm with one hand and wiped the wound with the other. The alcohol stung but it didn’t matter. Ghost was taking care of you. “Hold still.”

As he sanitized your wound, Ghost would wince whenever he heard you suck in a breath or make a small, pained sound from the alcohol. He didn’t want to hurt you. He wanted to be gentle with you like you were with him. Sure, maybe he wasn’t very good at all that, but he’d like to try, for you. His fingers brushed against your skin as he ran the alcohol wipe over the scrapes a few times, sanitizing the area and wiping away the blood.

“Don’t have any antiseptic,” he mumbled.

“Wait, I do,” you speak up, taking out a small tube of antiseptic ointment from your kit. Handing it to him, he put some on his pointer and middle fingers, gently making contact with your skin. He patted the ointment into the wound and the skin around it, his expression deeply focused to make sure he wasn’t hurting you. He wiped the excess on a small square of gauze and looked at you, as if waiting for approval. You blinked at him, smiling sweetly, and he turned away, always nervous when you smile at him, to reach for the bandage roll.

“I, uh, used to have a dog. German Shepherd. He got his back paw caught in a chain fence once and I had to bandage his leg and everythin’... Guess that’s the closest I ever got to bein’ a medic,” Ghost chuckled softly, unraveling the bandage and holding the end of it in place over your arm, using his other hand to begin wrapping it around you.

“A dog, hm?” Now that piqued your interest. “I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be a dog person.”

He shook his head. “Not really. More of a cat person, actually.”

“You’re joking,” you gasped. You tried to imagine Ghost with a cat cuddled up on his lap or chest.

“Cats get a bad rep,” he said. “I like that they’re independent and do their own thing most of the time. But they’re still sweet, they’ll still rub against you when you pet them and curl up next to you on the couch. They’re more stand-offish and brooding than dogs, I guess. But what’s so bad about that?”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” you whispered. Ghost locked eyes with you, and you could tell that his eyebrows were raised. He wasn’t sure whether to be offended or not. You continued, “But don’t worry. I really like cats, too. Misunderstood creatures. And cute.” You smiled at him, hoping to God he understood that you were trying to flirt with him. It was hard to tell, but you assumed by the way he chuckled softly and moved even closer to you to continue patching you up that he got it.

He placed his hand on your arm and ripped the bandage, placing the rest of the roll back into his kit. He repositioned the ending of the bandage so that it stuck on top of itself, keeping the wrapping in place without any need for medical tape. When his hands left your arm, you had to hold yourself back from frowning, already missing the skin-to-skin contact.

“Well, I think tha’ll do ya good, a’least until we get back, yeah?” Ghost said, leaning back from you a bit. Still, you noticed that the way you were sitting, your legs were still touching.

“Thank you,” you placed your hand over the bandage, moving and flexing your arm to see how it felt.

Ghost got up from the ground and began putting his jacket and tactical vest back on. He walked a few steps across the room where he had leaned his rifle up against a dusty table. Rummaging through his vest for some ammo, he began reloading his gun and humming ever so softly to himself. You watched him, your cheeks tingling with warmth. As much as you wanted to get back to base, you also didn’t want to leave this moment. You doubted that anyone else had the privilege to see him like this. In Ghost’s world, watching him reloading his gun was probably the most domestic thing you would ever be able to watch him do. When he finished, he turned and looked at you, completely catching you staring. You saw slight motion under the mask—he had to be smiling. The thought made your heart race. But you cleared your throat and scrambled to your feet, turning around to pick up your jacket and tactical vest off of the ground. You zipped up your jacket, half turned away from Ghost, but feeling his eyes on you.

“Zero.” His gruff voice sent shivers down your spine. You turned around and met his gaze. Those hazel eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Glad you’re safe.”

Your heart raced. Ghost’s heart softened.

———

The flight back to the base landed in the early hours of the morning. The sun had barely started to rise, the sky a deep pinkish red as you and the rest of 141 walked back into the building. Gaz and Price had successfully breached the hatchery, clearing it out and finding evidence of tunnels underneath the lighthouse on the island. Laswell would talk to Shepherd and figure out a game plan, but at least for one night, you would be able to relax.

As soon as everyone reached back to the barracks, everyone scattered into their rooms to clean up, unpack, and get some shut eye. Despite it being early in the morning, everyone on 141 hadn’t slept for at least 24 hours. You took a quick shower and changed into something warm and comfy, falling asleep in your bed without any tossing and turning. You awoke later in the afternoon, around four o’clock, stomach grumbling. Your face lit up, remembering your arrangement with Ghost—Simon.

You put some shoes on and freshened yourself up in the mirror, suddenly feeling nervous and yet you were so excited. Walking into the common area, you opened one of the fridges and took out a pasta dish you had made the other day. You split the leftovers in half, putting it into two bowls and microwaving them. Humming to yourself, you realized that you were actually getting the thing you’d been wanting ever since you met him: true, one-on-one time with the brooding lieutenant. Since yesterday, your feelings towards him had only blossomed further, and from the way he had looked at you and leaned close to you, you had a little bit of hope that maybe he could feel the same. You felt like a giddy highschooler as you took the bowls out of the microwave and quickly grabbed some utensils from one of the drawers. When you spun around, you almost crashed into Price who was entering the kitchen area with Gaz.

“Oh, sorry, Captain! Didn’t see you there,” you apologized but swiftly moved past them, barely paying either of them any mind.

“Where’s she going in such a hurry?” Gaz asked, raising his eyebrow as you continued down the hall. Price gave him the same puzzled look back.

“Hey, Zero!” Price called. You spun around. “Where are you off to?”

“Oh, I’m just bringing some dinner to Simon’s room!” you lifted up your hands with the two bowls of food to show them. Price and Gaz nodded slowly, and you were clearly in a hurry because you hardly waited for either of them to reply before you turned back around.

You turned the corner at the end of the hall out of their view. Both men were still staring at where you were standing seconds before.

“I didn’t know he let people into his room,” Price said, grinning ear to ear.

Gaz stood frozen in place, “I… Did she just call him Simon?”

Price choked out in laughter.

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #simon riley fic #mwii #my stuff

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sosa2imagines · 6 months ago

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Broken Hearts. Part 16

Warning- Fluff, failed attempt at seduction.

“What the hell?” “Y/n, I'm pretty sure it is not what it looks like.” “Lloyd would never do this to you.”

Excitement and eagerness mingled together as you prepared for your date with Lloyd. You were ready by 6:55, an hour before the scheduled time. Amidst the excitement, there was a hint of nerves, a flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

The sound of a knock on your door interrupted your thoughts, and you saw Jake standing there, observing you as you paced back and forth.

Jake leaned against the doorway, his cheeks blushing slightly as he took in your appearance. “You look beautiful.” he complimented with a sheepish grin.

“Thanks, going out with Lloyd...” you replied with a hint of giddiness in your voice.

Jake raised an eyebrow and chuckled, “How do you handle him?” You chuckled back, “Oh come on, he's so easygoing.”

Jake rolled his eyes, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “Easy for you to say. Try working for him, constantly barking orders behind your back.”

You smiled apologetically at Jake's complaint.

Jake shrugged, his expression softening. “It's alright. I know he can be a handful.”

You nodded, a glint of affection in your eyes as you thought about Lloyd.

“Alright, but I want all the details, missy,” Jake teased, his curiosity piqued.

You chuckled and replied, “You bet.”

Curiosity getting the better of him, Jake asked, “Where is he taking you?”

“I don't know,” you answered, a coy smile on your lips. “He's going to call the driver, and we'll leave by 7:30.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Why don't you just go surprise him?” he suggested.

A playful grin spread across your face, entertained by the idea. “I don't know where we're supposed to meet!!!” you protested, though the thought of surprising Lloyd excited you.

Jake smirked, seeing your excitement. He puffed out his chest with a cocky grin, boasting, “Are you challenging my powerful abilities to track him down?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, amused by his overconfidence.

He quickly swiped your phone, his fingers dancing across the screen as he set to work. Within five minutes, he had found Lloyd's location.

“Show off,” you teased, shaking your head.

“You are welcome.” Jake replied, his smirk growing wider as he handed your phone back to you.

You looked at Jake with excitement in your eyes. “Let's go.”

“Where?” Jake questioned, confusion evident on his face.

You smirked, a playful glint in your eyes. “Lloyd...” you answered, excitement building within you. “Come on, let's surprise him just like you said.”

Jake's eyes widened in mock fear, but you could see the playful glint in his eyes. “You go,” he protested, “It's your date. He'll kill me for tracking him down.”

Ignoring his protests, you grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the car. “Get in!” you commanded, already giving the driver instructions to head towards Lloyd's location.

Jake sighed, feigning reluctance, but the eagerness in his expression mirrored yours.

Jake's anxiety was evident as he nervously clutched your arm.

“Oh come on, he won't do anything to you. Relax!” you reassured him.

“Easy for you to say,” Jake groaned, still worried. “He will kill me.”

Suddenly, your phone buzzed with a text from Lloyd. “Y/n, change of time. The driver will pick you up at 8:15. Okay, see ya soon.”

You pouted, expressing your disappointment. “That sucks,” you said, Jake looked at you confused. “What?” he asked, curiosity piqued.

“Lloyd just texted...” you explained. “He said to leave at 8:15.”

Jake furrowed his brow, thinking. “Maybe he's still preparing?” he speculated, trying to find a reason for the delay.

“Hmm...” you mused, contemplating your options. “Well, I'm all prepared, and we're far away from the house.”

“We can always turn around.” Jake suggested.

You shook your head firmly, determination gleaming in your eyes. “No!” you declared. “We're going to surprise him. Check his location.”

Jake obeyed, pulling out his phone to track Lloyd's whereabouts. “He's still at the same place.” he reported.

A satisfied smile graced your lips. “Good.”

When you arrived at 7:45, you noticed that the restaurant was unusually empty. It turned out that Lloyd had booked the entire establishment, just for the two of you.

As you and Jake entered the restaurant, you were blissfully unaware of the scene unfolding before your eyes.

You eyes were wide, sitting on a chair, was Lloyd, being seductively approached by none other than Peggy Carter, or as Lloyd referred to her “Piggy.”

Your whisper was laced with disbelief and anger. “What the hell?” you hissed under your breath.

“Y/n,” Jake whispered back, trying to calm you down, “I'm pretty sure it's not what it looks like. Lloyd would never do this to you.”

You scoffed, your eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before you. “Of course, it's not what it looks like!” you exclaimed. “That's the most pathetic attempt at seduction I've ever seen!”

Jake's eyes widened in surprise at your response, completely blindsided by your reaction. “What?” he exclaimed, taken aback.

You continued to watch the unfolding scene, your expression a mix of irritation and disbelief.

You turned to Jake, frustration evident in your tone. “Lloyd is not even turned on!” you scoffed.

Jake raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. “And that's your problem?”

You nodded vigorously, a hint of anger in your eyes. “No, I'll kill Peggy. But it's obvious she's purposely trying to seduce him.”

Jake's expression turned serious as he understood your perspective. “You mean they knew?” he asked, realization dawning on him.

“Oh my god,” you exclaimed, “Steve had promised me, that Lloyd would cheat on me and that's what's going on.” you finished in a whisper, your voice filled with disbelief and shock.

Jake's eyes widened, his protective instincts kicking in. “Lloyd is lucky.”

You couldn't help but chuckle as you watched Peggy's failed attempts to seduce Lloyd.

“She's stupid...” you whispered to Jake, shaking your head in disbelief. “Who wears such a tight dress? she can't even sit on his lap. Watch, she's going to fall again.”

Peggy attempted to sit on Lloyd's lap once again, but this time, she stumbled and fell to the ground with a thump. You snickered, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

Jake chuckled softly beside you, clearly amused by the scene unfolding before you.

“Seriously,” you muttered, glancing at Jake, “She has no finesse whatsoever. It's like watching a clown trying to juggle knives.”

Jake stifled a laugh, nodding in agreement. “I know, right? It's hard to believe she thinks this is seductive.”

Lloyd's face bore an expression of annoyance and mild anger as he watched Peggy's continued attempts to seduce him. His patience was clearly worn thin, a vein in his temple pulsing with irritation.

"Are you done playing Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall?" Lloyd snaps, while you and Jake struggle not to laugh out loud.

Peggy almost slipped again, hearing his comment but still tried to seduce him.

Lloyd sat stiffly in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, a glare fixed on Peggy's clumsiness. He muttered something under his breath, clearly fed up with her persistence.

Peggy leaned in closer to Lloyd, her voice dripping with sultriness.

“Oh, Lloyd, you're so turned on by me. I can feel your hardness.” she purred, trying to sound seductive.

You rolled your eyes, completely unimpressed by her lack of finesse.

Lloyd, however, seemed to have reached his limit. "Humpty dumpty!” Lloyd snapped, his irritation evident in his voice. “Look at what hardness you're feeling.”

Peggy's eyes widened as she realized that she wasn't feeling his hardness, but his gun.

Peggy's eyes further widened in shock as she stared at his grip on the gun.

You try to stifle your laugh and Jake was trying to look anywhere except you, Lloyd and Peggy.

You turned to Jake, a sly grin on your face. “In case you're wondering why I'm so easily believing Lloyd...” you began, “he's never changed plans via text. And since when did he start calling me by my name instead of 'Sugar?'”

Jake pondered your words for a moment, his mind processing the information. “That's true!” he admitted, realization dawning on him. “Lloyd would never change plans unless necessary. He'd either go ahead with it or say 'fuck it.' And he wouldn't text you using your name.”

“Exactly.” you agreed, your smirk widening. “It's not like him at all. And the text, it's all off.”

“Holy sweetness...” he muttered, his eyes narrowing. “That bitch!”

You squared your shoulders and took a deep breath, determined to save Lloyd from Peggy's relentless advances. “I'm gonna get him out of his misery.” you declared to Jake. “Meanwhile, you feast upon the awesome food available here and do some research on the unsuccessful seductress.”

Jake smirked, clearly amused by the situation. “Of course, with pleasure,” he replied. “But you sure you gonna be okay?”

You smiled confidently. “Don't worry,” you assured him. “Lloyd is here.”

With that, Jake headed off towards the food, and you steeled yourself before making your way towards the scene unfolding before you.

“Are you done?”

Peggy smugly looked at you, her smirk suggesting she believed she had won this little game of seduction. However, Lloyd's serious expression remained unchanged.

Standing behind him, you clutched his shoulders as you leaned down to his ear. In a sultry whisper, you addressed him by his nickname, “Lloydy Bear.”

As soon as the words left your lips, a wave of relief washed over Lloyd's face. He grabbed your hand, pulling you onto his lap, a silent message of gratitude for your unwavering trust in him.

Peggy stood there, her mouth agape in disbelief, struggling to process the scene before her. You, on the other hand, wore a proud smirk on your face.

“Hardly been a few seconds, and you're already turned on by me?” you whispered to Lloyd, a hint of playful sarcasm in your tone.

Peggy, still baffled, huffed in annoyance. “You bitch!” she muttered. “That's his gun, not his cock.”

You chuckled, your smirk growing wider. “And you, blind fool, can't you see he is pointing his gun at you and his other hand is on my stomach!”

Lloyd shot Peggy a withering glare, his expression a mix of irritation and amusement. He kept his gun aimed at her, while his other hand rested possessively on your stomach, a clear sign of ownership.

Peggy scoffed at your claim, skeptical and unwilling to believe her failed attempt at seduction had been for naught.

“You're lying.” she retorted, challenging you to prove it.

You stood up from Lloyd's lap, walking over to allow Peggy to see that you were, in fact, not lying.

Lloyd watched you with a proud smile on his face, clearly pleased with your determination to assert your claim on him.

Once Peggy's doubts had been dispelled, you made your way back to Lloyd, and he promptly pulled you back onto his lap, his arms wrapping possessively around you.

Peggy looked at you with a mix of confusion and disbelief, still struggling to grasp her failed attempt at seducing Lloyd. “But how?” she protested. “I've been trying to seduce him for over an hour!”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your amusement. “Idiot...” you replied, a hint of mockery in your tone. “You think wearing a tight dress and red lipstick straight out of the '40s will seduce him? You're so mistaken.”

Lloyd raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your confident demeanor.

Peggy looked flustered, still determined to justify her efforts. “But you were supposed to be angry,” she exclaimed. “Thinking he is cheating on you!”

You shifted your gaze towards Lloyd, giving him a playful wink. He smiled at your boldness, finding the entire situation amusing.

Peggy stood there, bewildered, as you looked her straight in the eye and asserted, “You see, it will take more than a text and seduction for me to assume my Lloyd is cheating on me. I can tell by looking at his face, that he's zero seconds away from putting a bullet between your eyes.”

For not doing it sooner, you subtly rubbed your ass against his crotch, causing him to groan in response. “Sugar!” he exclaimed, his annoyance mingling with amusement.

You simply smiled back at him, enjoying the control you had over the situation.

You fixed Peggy with a firm gaze, your voice laced with authority. “You see, Piggy,” you began, a hint of irritation in your tone. “Just because Steve said Lloyd will cheat on me and you're actually trying to help him prove his point, doesn't mean I'll believe it. So I suggest you leave, if you know what's good for you.”

You paused for emphasis, then added, “And a suggestion…be careful of Steve. He's not one who he claims to be.”

Peggy, still trying to maintain her bravado, responded, “Are you threatening me?”

You stood your ground, unwavering. “Think whatever you want,” you replied, “but you're wasting your time here. Now shoo, go away.”

Lloyd's voice cut through the tension, his tone authoritative. “You heard my Sugar,” he repeated. “Go away before I make you leave this world.”

Peggy paled, clearly sensing the danger in Lloyd's words. Without another word, she promptly fled the scene, desperate to escape the situation.

You broke into a fit of laughter, amused by her panicked reaction.

Lloyd smiled gratefully, as you both stood up, his hands instinctively finding your waist, pulling you closer. “Thanks for believing me.” he said sincerely.

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with trust. “Lloyd...” you replied, your voice soft. “I know you would never hurt me.”

He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against your lips.

“Hmm, how about we skip dinner and head home for dessert?” you suggested, in a sultry voice.

Lloyd raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider the idea. “But what about our date?” Lloyd asked, his grip on your waist tightening slightly.

“I'll text Jake to call his girlfriend here...” you answered decisively. “They can have their date here. Our treat. And the house is empty anyway... Nick has gone out for some work.”

Lloyd chuckled, amused by your determination. “Text Jake now,” he commanded. “We are leaving.”

You didn't hesitate for a second, immediately pulling out your phone, you tapped a quick message to Jake, then shoved it back you’re your purse.

In a swift motion, Lloyd grabbed your hand and practically dragged you out of the venue.

The ride home was filled with a palpable tension, both of you eagerly anticipating the privacy and intimacy that awaited you. Lloyd drove with a sense of urgency, breaking a few traffic rules along the way.

Part 15- Part 17

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan @emerald-writes

@redbloodedgurl @cjand10 @chemtrails-club @slutforchrisjamalevans @gracescor3

@ghostlythinggoingaround @princezzjasmine @3xclusivemariii @ephemeral-oasis

@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

@whore-for-chris-evans @caplanreblogsfics

@pono-pura-vida @renegadesgirl1991 @iwudbutnah

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princessbrunette · 1 year ago

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the way i imagined it is that his girls just in a moody shes huffing shes pouty just being a little brat and he cracks a joke like “i think i gotta put you over my knee and straighten you out” and gives her a little swat but then she whimpers and squeezes her thighs together and he realises maybe that IS what he has to do - 🐰

ugh ok this yes i love this .

i see it as you and jj at the chateau. john b’s in the shower, and the two of you are on the porch seats— ready to head to a party on the beach. but you just don’t wanna go, those parties always get too wild— everyone gets too drunk, kooks show up and make the vibe all weird, girls throw themselves at your boyfriend and you’re too shy to do anything but cling onto his arm, the blonde oblivious as ever. you’re straddling his thigh front on so you can lay against him, arms wrapped around his neck.

“dont tell me you’re tired already mama, you got a loooong night ahead of you. promised you’d do a shot with me, remember?” you can hear the gleeful grin in his tone as he squeezes your hips and you snuggle down further, not sleepy just stubborn.

“dont even wanna go to this stupid thing.” you mutter, bordering on childish.

“damn, we got little miss moody today. someone woke up on the wrong side of the chateau.” he teases, pinching your waist making you squirm.

“shutup.” you grumble and he smirks, staring at the sunset over the water.

“wow. got a real attitude today, missy. am i gonna have to put you over my knee n’ straighten you out?” he threatens lightheartedly with a big smile on his face, lightly swatting your ass with a dramatic ‘wshhhh’ sound made with his mouth. you tense up, legs tightening around his thigh as the words settle in deep in your stomach, the idea sprouting dampness in your underwear. after a moment, you sit back so you’re sat up on his thigh, hands on his chest with the sweetest, unsure expression.

“d’you mean that for real, JJ?” you ask. he smiles reassuringly, cupping your cheeks with both hands.

“nah, baby i’m just playing.” he chuckles, now noting the way your shoulders drop in disappointment.

“oh.”

he watches you for a moment, frozen — before sitting up a little, eyes dropping to your mouth for a moment. “why? you want me to?”

you give your answer by staying silent, just exhaling shakily, his mouth so close to yours he feels the sigh. “wanna be put in your place or somethin’?”

you close your eyes, nodding a little. “mhm.”

“mhm?”

he’s about to kiss you, when you hear john b’s wet feet slapping the floor of the chateau walking from the bathroom to his room with a towel around his waist.

“alright give me ten minutes, then we can leave i swear — oh wow, are you two boning on the porch?” he calls out and you sit up suddenly, glaring at him through the window.

“no.” you bark, making the blonde beneath you snicker.

“good, those porch seats are a pain in the ass to clean.” he disappears into his room.

“as if you clean your seats!” JJ laughs.

the moment may have passed, but you spend the entire night at the party desperately horny, clinging to your boyfriends arm just counting the seconds ‘til you can leave and have him to yourself again :(

#🐰 anon #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank drabble #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank smut

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thebiggerbear · 1 year ago

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"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that." - Alec McDowell Prompt Response

Summary: You're looking for a way to set yourself up and blend in after breaking out of Manticore. Having heard the rumors, you seek out Max for help. In doing so, you come across someone you had never thought you'd see again.

Pairing: Alec McDowell x Female!Reader; Alec McDowell x Female!Transgenic Reader

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). I have been in love with the world of Dark Angel and Alec ever since the show aired. To me, it's completely fascinating, and I really wish it had continued. (I was a big Malec fan back then btw; Lomax just wasn't my thing) There's so much to explore, especially with Max herself and how the transgenic community was going to move forward now that the public was aware of them. And of course, Joshua, OC, and Alec. Great stuff. Originally, I wasn't sure what scenario would best suit Alec based on this prompt line but I knew it would definitely be something that would apply to him. As far as It's A Wonderful Life, I was listening to the Christmas radio show they aired back in the 40's as I was outlining this one and the idea sort of came to life on its own. Hope this one's alright.

This is meant to take place mid-s2 and I did use events from the Berrisford Agenda episode (2x11) as inspiration for the beginning. 😉

Thanks to my beta @rieleatiel for her services. You rock, girl!

Warnings: implied violence; implied murder; mention of fatal injury; implied sex

Word Count: 8419

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

Alec Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You can also read on AO3

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Jason version ✨ Tom version ✨ CJ version ✨ Rachel version ✨ Anael version ✨ SDV Leah version

You made your way into the bike messenger shop, glancing around despite the busy, distracting din. Rumor had it that a transgenic named Max had a sweet hookup here, something a fellow transgenic like yourself could use, being on the run and all. You could get a job, make money, and more importantly: blend in; not to mention it would teach you the layout of the city, the ins and outs, and provide you with legal documentation to let you past checkpoints in case Manticore ever came looking.

So far, you hadn’t spotted the dark brunette you had been told about, and you didn’t sense any of your kind here. While a few people either walked past you, giving you a once-over as they did or stood there staring, all of them appeared to be human. Everyone else was milling to and fro, and you wondered if perhaps you’d been given wrong information. It had happened before so you were used to it, but this one you had really been hoping would turn out to be true. You could use a lucky break.

A man was barking out orders to a group of messengers before they dispersed, and his eye landed on you once they did. “You need something, Missy-Miss?”

You assumed the crankpot was the boss so you carefully approached him. “Uh, yeah, I was looking for—”

You were interrupted by yells coming from your far left. Your head snapped in the direction of the sounds and your eyes widened at what you saw.

There was the transgenic X5-494 backed up against the lockers, holding his hands out in a ‘whoa’ manner and giving the women in front of him his most charming grin; by the looks of their faces, it wasn’t working. “Ladies, ladies. No need to fight.”

“You didn’t tell me you were already seeing Lena when you asked me out!” One woman seethed.

“He asked you out?” Another woman, who you assumed was Lena, demanded. “I bet it happened right after we slept together, didn’t it?”

“He slept with you?” A third woman blanched.

“Tell me you haven't been making the rounds through the entire company,” another woman scoffed in disgust.

You shook your head, watching the show. Typical 494. Even out here he was still getting himself into trouble. By the sounds of it, he more than deserved the wrath of the women he was currently faced with, but you were still taken aback by his sudden appearance. Just when you thought you’d never see him again…

Before you knew it, the older man you had been talking to made his way over. “Alright, break it up! Break it up!” He forced his way next to 494 and glared at the ladies. “Shouldn’t you be working? You want your paychecks? Packages need to be delivered on time. Get going.”

The women grumbled and began to disperse, glaring in both men’s direction. “You just wait until later, Alec! This isn’t over!” 494 gave them all a sheepish smile while the other man scowled.

“Okay, okay! You’ve got deliveries to make. Packages don’t deliver themselves so let’s go, keep it moving!”

By the time they had all left, 494’s smile dropped and he seemed to deflate, gratefully clapping the man’s shoulder. “Thanks. I think they were about to eat me alive,” he laughed.

“Not on my watch,” the other man promised. “How’re you feeling, champ? You okay?”

“Yeah, no, I’m good. Just, you know…” He gestured to where the women had disappeared and bugged his eyes before letting out a nervous chuckle.

“You should’ve let them take a swing at him,” a brunette woman suddenly threw at them as she approached her locker, which was near the two men. “It’s not like he didn’t deserve it.”

494 let out a huff. “Thanks, Max,” he mumbled.

That name caught your attention—so this was Max. It had surprised you to see 494 here of all places, but it made sense considering what X5-452 had set up here.

“Don’t be like that, Missy-Miss,” the older man warned the woman. “There’s no reason to have that kind of attitude.”

Max shook her head and discreetly rolled her eyes, zipping up her backpack. “So what have you got for me today, Normal?”

Normal held out two packages for her to take. “They need these by noon, not one second later.”

Max snatched the packages and nodded. 494 stepped closer to her. “I’ll come with you,” he insisted, still seeing some of the dirty looks he was receiving from girls coming to and fro.

She made a face at him which clearly said that wasn’t going to happen, and before she could voice that, Normal cleared his throat. “Not a bad idea. You could show him the ropes on that side of town and keep him from the estrogen mob looking to burn him at the stake. He’s got that raw animal charisma working and it’s causing trouble.” This time you made your own face of disgust. And this guy’s name was Normal? Far from it.

“Whatever,” Max snapped and shoved a package into 494’s chest, hard. She turned and was about to leave when you stepped forward.

“Max?” You called.

Her eyes snapped towards you as did 494’s and Normal’s. “Yeah?” She asked, seeming unsure.

You knew she was sensing who you really were just like you could sense her and 494 across the way, even if you hadn’t just been watching them. You ignored 494’s eyes widening at the sight of you and the sudden tension in his body, making your way closer. “I was wondering if we could have a word.”

Max’s brows furrowed and Normal glanced between you, holding up a finger. “No visitors at work, Miss. You know the rule: packages need to be there by noon. Make it quick.” He turned and walked away, completely uninterested in whatever conversation you two were about to have.

Max stepped over to you, studying you intently. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours. What do you want?”

494 was standing right next to her, his eyes never leaving you. The surprise was still evident in his expression along with something else you couldn’t quite put a name to.

You glanced around, making sure no one was paying attention to you, before turning and lifting your ponytail from your neck, letting her see the barcode tattoo you had. After a moment, you spun on your heel to find her appearing a little more receptive to what you had to say. “So, you got somewhere we can talk?”

She nodded and glanced over at 494 before inclining her head in a direction she expected you to follow her in. You obliged, your eyes briefly flickering to 494’s, before he followed both of you.

Once you were outside in a semi-private spot, Max turned to you, her arms crossed. “So, who are you really?”

“X5-498,” you answered.

Max glanced over at 494 before addressing you once again. “How long have you been on the run?”

“Since you destroyed the base and helped 494 escape.” You nodded in his direction. Yeah, maybe you were still a little bitter about that. 494 looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“I didn’t help him do anything,” Max insisted, her nose scrunching up in what appeared to be repulsion at the very idea.

494 ignored her and trained his gaze on you. “I thought you were dead.”

You smirked over at him and crossed your arms. “Sorry to disappoint.” You noticed his jaw tighten and his eyes narrow at the jab.

“You two know each other?” Max was looking between you but neither of you looked away from the other.

“She was my breeding partner,” 494 informed her.

Max’s eyes widened and turned on you. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “He wouldn’t have been my first choice, either.”

He snorted and the amused smirk you were more than familiar with began to appear on his face, yet he didn’t say a word.

“Oh-kay. That’s not super weird or anything.” She turned to 494. “You had more than one breeding partner? Were you Manticore’s stud horse or something?” She looked grossed out at the thought.

494’s eyes briefly flickered over to her. “498 and I were paired off long before you got there.”

“But then, if you were already paired off, why were you paired off with me, too?” Your gaze snapped to Max who looked genuinely confused for a moment before realization hit her. “Oh, right. It was all part of your big plan to get me to trust you so I could accidentally kill Logan. Got it.”

494 shrugged unapologetically. “Pretty much.” He turned back to you. “Renfro gave me the mission and told me if I didn’t succeed, then that’d be it for me. I was already on thin ice with them. So, she assigned me to you, Max, and I did what I had to do.”

“And he left me to die,” you supplied, gracing her with your smirk.

His jaw dropped before he closed his mouth and pressed his lips into a thin line. “I didn’t leave you there to die,” he protested.

“Leaving me there to burn to death constitutes as leaving me to die,” you countered. He glared at you but you ignored it. You noticed Max’s eyes constantly moving between the two of you and you decided you’d get to the point of why you were here. “452, I’m here because word on the street is that you have a way of helping fellow transgenics like yourself.” You motioned towards 494. “I was hoping you might be able to help me as well.”

She looked taken aback. “I don’t have anything set up like that. As a matter of fact, Alec here only got the job because of Normal’s weird worship of him.” 494 gave her a smug smile which made her roll her eyes. “But as far as other transgenics go, I don’t really have anything in place to help like you’re thinking. Sorry.”

You nodded, figuring as much. You thought it had been unlikely but you had hoped anyway. All you could do now was remain on the run until you could find a place where you could seamlessly blend in. “Thank you for your time.”

“Just hold up a sec,” 494 entreated you, but you ignored him.

You turned to leave when Max’s voice stopped you. “Wait.” You glanced back and found her watching you, compassion twinkling in her eyes. “Maybe there’s something we can do.” She quickly glanced at 494 who was giving her a look. Max rolled her eyes at him but lifted her chin when addressing you. “I wouldn’t put you with this one because it sounds like you’ve been punished enough already.”

494 shot her a glare to which she only smirked. You couldn’t help but smile yourself; perhaps you would like this 452 after all.

“But I think I have an idea of where you can stay. It’s temporary and you’d have a roommate, but we can see about getting you a job and getting you set up properly. Logan can help, too, with papers. If you’re serious and you plan to stay, that is.”

494 watched you intently. You thought it over for a moment. This proposal was better than anything you had going for you right now. Hell, you would have even stuck yourself with 494 again if it meant you’d have a place to sleep and something to eat, safe from Manticore for a while. You gave Max a nod. “Thank you.” To your surprise, 494 seemed to relax a bit at your response.

She smiled and turned, indicating you should follow. “You’ll be with Joshua for the time being. He’s pretty easy to get along with,” she assured you, her tone softening a bit. You could tell she was fond of the guy she was mentioning.

“Joshua?” You questioned, looking from her to 494.

494 stayed in step with you as you all made your way out onto the street. He shot you a smile as Max retrieved her bike. “You like dogs?”

Joshua did indeed turn out to be a decent roommate. He was kind and thoughtful and actually a little funny. Truthfully, you hadn’t been prepared to find a dogman as your new temporary roommate, but once you found out about his history, you found yourself feeling compassion for his situation. You were glad he had managed to escape the destruction of the base that night.

Max kept her word and set you up with a job as a bike messenger at Jam Pony (apparently a couple of the girls 494 had been involved with decided to up and quit for some strange reason), which gave you access to all of the legal documentation you’d need to get past certain checkpoints in the city. She’d introduced you to her friends Original Cyndi and Sketchy, who would also turn out to be your coworkers. Normal viewed you as another hooligan he was forced to pay for standing around and not doing your job just like the rest, though despite his warped assertions, you actually did get your work done. You ended up going on runs with 494 and Max to get to know the ins and outs of the job. Outside of work, you kept your distance unless your help was needed. Max and OC had invited you to Crash a couple of times, but you bowed out, especially when Sketch seemed a little too invested in your joining them. You also met Logan and Asha, neither of whom you cared for very much; still, they were important to your fellow transgenics and Logan was helping you, so you kept your thoughts to yourself. All in all, you were settling into life in Seattle and beginning to blend in. And you avoided 494 like the Plague despite his couple of attempts to approach you and strike up a conversation, so everything was going pretty swell.

You had even found a new place you liked to escape to every now and then. You knew the Space Needle was also Max’s favorite spot—she had told you as much—but after a long day, you liked to get to the highest point and look out over the city you now were beginning to call home.

It was one such peaceful night when 494 found you.

“Thought I’d find you here.” He carefully lowered himself down next to you.

You didn’t respond and instead focused on the feel of the cool breeze gently blowing through your hair.

“I’m glad you made it out,” he admitted.

You shot him a look before returning your attention to the city.

“I am.” He rested his forearms on his knees and looked out towards the city skyline. “I know what we had wasn’t of our making, but it wasn’t all horrible, was it?”

You let his question hang in the air. No, it hadn’t been all horrible, but it was still a messed up situation you both had been thrust into. Based on what you’d learned about his sessions with Max, copulation hadn’t needed to happen due to the background plan. You and 494 weren’t so lucky after a while, just like every other pair of breeding partners in the facility. By the time Max was recaptured and brought to the base, Renfro and company were already starting to side-eye the two of you and wanted to know how you hadn’t gotten pregnant yet. Almost every other pairing had been successful or reassigned if they weren’t; you were arousing too much suspicion by your constant failure to report an impregnation despite your successful copulations. The truth was that you and 494 did what you could to prevent it from happening. You had no desire to add to the ranks of Manticore transgenics and neither did he, something you both had been on the same page about since the first night you’d been thrown into a cell together.

You hadn’t fooled yourselves. This wasn’t about love or any attraction you had for one another, nor was it even a fun roll in the sheets; you both would not have chosen each other if you’d had a say in any of it. This was all about science and genetics, and it was purely clinical. That didn’t mean that there weren’t a few moments here and there that you snatched for yourselves: a laugh here, a tender moment there, a camaraderie forged between you in flipping off the organization that had created you and controlled you since your first breaths. So no, it wasn’t all horrible.

Which is why you didn’t protest or move away when you felt him subtly shift a little closer to you. You nearly smiled at the action; 494 had always sought a connection between you, something that superseded the physical. You couldn’t count the amount of times after your sessions that you had both held onto each other: you still remembered how he would wrap his arms around you and pull you close, letting out a content sigh as you ran your fingers through his sweaty hair, scratching at his scalp in the way you knew he liked. And he would make sure every inch of him was still touching you on the uncomfortable cot suspended from the wall, before the guards were due to come back and retrieve him. How he would chatter away about different subjects, doing his best to engage you.

“I went back for you,” he murmured.

Surprise ran through you as you turned wide eyes on him.

“Once they revealed the base’s location and I was able to get free, I went back for you.” He stared at you, swallowing compulsively. “But by the time I got there, it was too late. I thought you were gone.”

You could see the truth of what he was saying in his green eyes, but you refused to give in that easily. You huffed out a snort and turned back to the view. “More like you were hoping.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him shaking his head. “I never wanted you gone.”

You ignored him and continued your ritual of observing the city, allowing silence to fall between you. Only when he slowly took your hand into his did you turn a glare on him and finally speak: “I hate you, you realize that, right?”

“You have a weird way of showing that.” He nodded his head towards your intertwined fingers.

You rolled your eyes but you didn’t pull away. “Don’t you have a harem to get back to? Or what’s her name…Asha? Now that you’re free to choose who you want to copulate with. You didn’t seem to have any issue finding willing partners before I showed up.”

This time, he was the one who snorted. “Just passing time.”

You finally did pull away, grimacing. “Ew.”

He let out a nervous-sounding laugh. “I just meant it’s all been casual. Nothing serious.”

You side-eyed him. “Good luck with that.” You got to your feet and were about to leave when he grabbed your hand to stop you, forcing you to look down at him.

“Y/N,” he murmured, using the name Max had picked out for you. It wasn’t your favorite, but you needed something to go on the paperwork for Jam Pony and the papers Logan was acquiring for you, so you figured it would do. Perhaps you’d even grow into it and it could be a decent identity for you.

“494?”

He shot you a glare. “Alec.”

Right. Max had named him, too. That was something he’d mentioned on one of the runs you, he, and Max had gone on. You had smirked at Max’s explanation of that choice while 494 had rolled his eyes.

“Okay then. Alec?” It felt weird to call him that yet at the same time…it felt like a good fit.

His thumb tenderly stroked against your skin and he watched you. “Just wanted to see how it sounded. Using our names instead.”

You nodded. You could understand that. All of this was new and…fragile in a way. Any moment you could be found, you could either be killed or worse — brought back to another base. However, from what you’d heard, the former was more likely to happen these days. Max had encouraged you to start thinking about what you wanted out of life, and so far, freedom was certainly at the top of your list. You might be free right now, but you weren’t really free, not with your captors still out there who viewed you as their property, to apprehend or destroy at will. You had a feeling that Alec knew that just as well as you did, no matter the optimistic picture Max tried to paint for Joshua or any other transgenics she might come across.

He tugged on your hand to urge you to sit back down next to him. You resisted for a moment but then decided to oblige. What did a few minutes more matter in the scheme of things? He snuck an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer. Had it been anyone else, that arm would have been ripped from its socket by now.

Alec gave you a small smile and leaned down to press a kiss to your hair, flooding you with memories of every time he’d done just that. Other memories made appearances, too: his sharing with you about his side hustle of trading things with guards for certain comforts, something he actually used on your behalf a few times; his laugh and kiss to your head when both of you had gotten a little too much into one copulating session, almost making the two of you forget to take your usual precautions; his promise of getting you both out of there together if you could hold out just a little longer; his expression when he told you that he thought Renfro had a mission for him that would keep him out of your barracks for the next few nights but that he’d do his best to see it through quickly and return; the last time you’d seen him when he’d exchanged a look with you across the yard before you and your unit were led away for more drills and testing, you thinking back to the worry you’d seen in his expression and since you didn’t know the cause, it created your own set of worries — 494 never let it show if he was ever worried or scared.

You weren’t sure how to feel about any of this. Yes, you and Alec had history but it had been forced upon you. Although you had forged some sort of connection during it all, it didn't mean that either of you were looking to continue that or see where it went on the outside—especially now that you were able to choose for yourselves. Still, that connection hadn’t simply ceased to exist just because you wished it would… Especially not when he was trying his damndest to restore some piece of it, right here and right now.

He lowered his head to meet your eyes and you could feel something familiar inside your chest squeezing a little bit. You told yourself that it had to be heartburn from the chicken stew you’d eaten for dinner earlier, and not anything to do with him at all. “I’ve missed this,” he quietly admitted. “Just talking and being together. Didn’t you?”

You gave him a look of disbelief mixed with amusement. “I don’t really think we did all that much talking as I remember it.”

That cocky smirk of his was back. “True.”

You rolled your eyes and he laughed. You enjoyed the familiar sound that caused more memories to wash over you. You would never admit it but the bond you’d shared had actually been the only good thing to sustain you when you were running after the explosion. You’d hoped that wherever he was, he had gotten away and was safe. You knew he hadn’t been in his barracks; you’d checked amidst the chaos.

Thinking back to that night, you rested your head back against his shoulder and stared out into the night. His lips tipped up in a small smile and he laid his head up against yours, following your gaze. You both stayed like that for the next hour until he murmured to you, “Come back with me?”

You turned to frown up at him. Was he for real? “Really?”

“No, not that, I just meant…” He ran his free hand over his hair. “I didn’t think I’d see you again and now you’re here. I didn’t really know how to ask you before without it sounding like that. But I want to show you my place.” He gave you a bit of a proud smile.

You considered it. It would be interesting to see what kind of setup he had going for himself. That had been something you had talked about back in your bunk at the base as he held you to him, his hands roaming your bare back. “You sure Alec’s groupies won’t mind?”

Alec smirked and shook his head. “I don’t have any roommates or regular visitors if that’s what you’re asking.”

You smirked right back and leaned in, making his eyes drop to your lips. “I wasn’t,” you whispered before dropping his hand and getting to your feet.

He got up as well, grinning over at you, that familiar fire lighting those sharp green eyes. “Just think: no guards to bribe, no need to keep it down, no time limit, no metal cot we both have to try to fit on…”

You snorted. “So you really are asking me to go back with you for that reason.”

“No, I really do want to show you the sweet setup I have.” His smile then turned wicked. “But if that were to happen, I wouldn’t exactly be against it.”

“Uh-huh.” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, looking away from him. You did your best to hide your own smile when he wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his lips near your ear.

“So what do you say? Let me show you my apartment. I got a couch, a bed, a tub…”

“Ooh, a tub?” You pretended to be impressed though you weren’t pretending too much. If a tub was considered a luxury before the world went to hell, then it was an even rarer commodity now.

“Yep,” he huskily whispered as he brushed a kiss to your ear lobe. “All the hot water and soap you could want.” He trailed his lips down your neck, making your eyes shut halfway. “And I’ve got glasses, plates, a coffee table… I even have a stereo.”

You dug your teeth into your bottom lip when he found that spot on your neck that he knew you loved. “A stereo?”

“For music,” he explained, pressing a kiss to your jawline. “And I even managed to score some whiskey from years back, pre-pulse. You’ll love it,” he promised before nuzzling your cheek. “Come home with me.”

You stared out over the horizon, unsure if you should give in to what he was tempting you with. Before, at Manticore, the sex had been clinical and while there was a connection between you, given the circumstances, it made sense to stick together like glue. But now… “I don’t know if I should. We’re out now and everything’s changed.”

He spun you in his arms, his brows furrowed as he cupped your face with his hands. “Not for me. I meant what I said to you in there, we were gonna get out together, find some place to blend in, and make it work.”

“But we didn’t get out together,” you whispered, gently removing his hands from you before stepping around him towards the door.

He grabbed your hand. “Y/N.” You glanced back at his earnest expression. “I did come back for you. When everything exploded and I didn’t hear or see any trace of you, I thought—”

“I know. I went to look for you, too, once I managed to get out of my barracks.” His eyes widened slightly in surprise. “That guard, Hayes, he let me out. He said something about a deal you had in place with him if things went wrong while you were away on your mission.” You dropped your gaze. “It must’ve really cost you, so… Thanks for that.” You squeezed his hand before letting it go and making your way inside the abandoned building.

You didn’t look back; there was no point. When you thought back to that night, you remembered Hayes sneering at you as he opened your cell door, spitting something about telling 494 that he owed him something better than cigars and the usual contraband this time. You didn’t bother thanking the man who treated you and every other transgenic on the base as nothing more than freak science experiments that were less than human, and you booked it towards the male barracks, fighting your way through when you needed to. You would never forget the relief you felt finding the specific bunk you were looking for empty, that was then followed by the feeling of betrayal, which quickly shifted into acceptance. You hoped he was alive out there somewhere, whether he had made it out before you got there or he had already been out in the world on his mission. You had chalked up your time together as a weird yet not so bad interaction and kept running. You’d even seen Hayes’ dead body on your way out, his throat torn apart, almost as if that too was closing the book on this messed up chapter of your life.

And that’s what you’d done: closed that chapter of your life and attempted to move on, to do what you could to figure out your own life. You never expected to see 494 again, let alone find him living his life, a harem of women around him. It had stuck a finger into that particular wound for a moment before the blanket acceptance was back in place. Your relationship was exactly as you’d thought it had been for both of you: something that had been forced upon you by your creators and you both had tried to make something good out of it (just not the child Manticore had wanted). And now, it was over. You both were on the outside and it was time for you both to go your separate ways, figuratively if not literally. He’d done right by you in that last moment and you’d escaped, gotten free, and lived. What more could you ask for?

You were just about to scale down to the next level when his hand landed on your shoulder, making you look back at him.

“Y/N, come back with me to my place. I want to show you something.”

You gave him a look. “494—”

“Alec,” he corrected. “I’m not talking about sex, though if you wanted that at some point, like I said, I’m more than willing.” He lifted his hand to cup your cheek and he stared into your eyes, willing you to agree. “I really want to show you something.”

His thumb tenderly ran along your bottom lip in a familiar gesture that had always preceded a kiss before he left you for the night. A part of you hoped he would repeat the action but when he didn’t, you were more relieved than anything. Your body yearned for his—the familiarity, the comfort—but you still didn’t think you should fall back into old habits—it could only end badly, whether he ended up getting bored or one of you (or both) were found by your enemies. You felt incredibly torn. Truthfully, you weren’t quite sure what you wanted when it came to him.

“Please,” he added. “Come over.”

He looked so determined, so earnest, that you found yourself slowly nodding in agreement.

His handsome face lit up with a bright smile. “I promise, you’re really gonna like it.” He urged you to follow him, scaling to the next level down with you right behind him. You hoped he was right, and you also hoped you would finally get some sort of answer for yourself on whether to explore this new great unknown with him with the former Emerald City as the backdrop in contrast to your cramped cell or to close the book on him for good.

You had to admit, Alec had a nice apartment. It was bigger than you’d imagined and he had told you the truth: he had glasses, plates, a coffee table, a couch, a bed, a tub, the so-called stereo (which he turned on for a minute to show you how it worked), and the whiskey he’d promised. As you drank from your glass, marveling at the taste, you glanced around, nodding.

“Nice,” you complimented.

“Thanks.” He took your hand and led you to a corner of the living room where a box sat tall on some sort of stand. He released you to go over and stand next to it, turning to beam over at you. “What do you think?”

Your eyes roved over the box with a glass front, confused. “It’s…great?”

He gave you a look as if you should know what it was before smiling wide again. “It’s a TV,” he crowed.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “TV?”

“Yeah, you know, to watch movies and TV shows, that kind of thing.”

You peered at it, wondering just how it worked. You’d heard of movies of course, but you’d never seen one. Did the images just appear on the glass when you turned it on? Was there something that needed to be selected or perhaps inserted somewhere?

He proudly laid a hand on top of it. “I managed to get ahold of it after one of my customers I’ve been selling synthetics to heard about some old lady dying nearby who had one. I headed right over to her place and got this beauty.” He smiled down at it.

“You’ve been selling synthetics?” Of course he was still hustling, even out here. In Manticore, it had been a necessity; out here, if it helped him get nice digs like this and set him up, you had to give him credit for keeping it going and getting creative.

“Among other things. Oh, and look.” He gestured down to another smaller box sitting in front of it. “I was also able to get a VCR. It took me a few months to get a lead on one of these, but I got it.” He chuckled and turned a wide smile on you.

You returned the smile, still unsure of what a VCR was.

“And the best part,” He took your glass from you and placed it on top of the TV before he grabbed something from behind it and shoved it into your hands. You looked down at the rectangular object and spied a familiar image you had only seen once before, when you were on the run from Manticore the first time. Your eyes widened; something you had told Alec about one night after copulating a few times and he was falling asleep, him tiredly rubbing your shoulder as you laid your head on his chest, one of the nights he’d bought more time for you both… The sight made the corners of your eyes sting, yet you forced yourself to keep the tears at bay. He had heard you that night even while nodding off and he’d— he’d managed to get his hands on it. “It’s that movie you told me about,” he began. “It’s—”

“--A Wonderful Life,” you finished in an awed whisper. You reverently traced the picture you’d seen a hundred times before Manticore caught you. You ignored the rips and stains surrounding the rim of the image and focused on the man who’d caught your interest in the first place. He looked happy, staring down at his wife, the two of them surrounded by their children, one hoisted up behind him and holding onto him for dear life. They all looked happy, which was something you’d never had or known. You’d never had a father, never knew your mother, and you’d never had a family, not like the one portrayed in the picture. Sure, you had dozens of brothers and sisters, but you weren’t a family. Manticore would punish you if any of you had even uttered the word. You were soldiers in training and that was it.

Still, this image piqued your interest and many nights, you found that you couldn’t stop staring at it. It was in an old theater, a place you’d managed to find while running the first time—the same place you took shelter in and eventually turned it into your own setup. There were other people throughout the theater who’d had the same idea, but they pretty much left you alone once you’d fought off the biggest guy in the group who had stupidly tried to take your food from you. Once you’d seen that poster, it created a yearning in you for something you had never known, something you never imagined wanting. You didn’t need parents and you didn’t need siblings, but you did crave family… Something that became more and more apparent the more you studied the image, imagining what that life would be like.

Which is why it was so cruel when Manticore recaptured you and immediately thrust you into its breeding program. Not only had they taken your life from you since conception, viewed you as their property that they were determined to see some sort of return of their investment on—now they wanted to take whatever life you could create from you and control it, too. You weren’t going to let that happen. As a matter of fact, you’d fought 494 off the first night they sent him into your cell. It had taken him by surprise because he’d thought you both were on the same page: you had orders. But he’d quickly learned that you’d rather die than follow those particular ones. He’d maintained his distance until a guard came to retrieve him, and as he’d glanced back at you one last time as he stepped across the threshold, you knew then that you were marked for death. A soldier refusing to obey and follow orders was no good to the organization and more importantly, of no use. Thus, it took you by surprise the next day when 494 confirmed the success of your copulation the previous night to your superiors which led to him being brought back to your cell later that night to continue.

From there, even though it took a little bit, you’d both talked and began getting to know one another. You’d learned that he didn’t want to spawn any kids for Manticore anymore than you did. Eventually, a bond began to form between you and of course, so did an attraction. The night you got hit with your first heat since being recaptured—thanks to a splash of feline DNA in your system, something you’d always been able to manage on the outside before—things had changed between you, and 494 no longer had to lie when reporting that copulation had been successful. Nonetheless, the entire time you’d been back in Manticore’s hands, you’d never forgotten about that picture and what you truly wanted: your freedom, a life, and eventually, family—happiness. You wanted to be happy just like the people in the poster.

And now here you were: on the outside, free for the moment, attempting to build a life, and this picture had somehow made its way back to you, right into your very hands, real enough to literally touch. “How did you get it?”

“One of Max’s fences gave me a line on where I could find one.”

You glanced up to find him watching you intently. You gave him a small grateful smile and you could see relief flood through his expression before he covered it with a smile of his own.

He cleared his throat. “I got it before you showed up, but…I never watched it. I couldn’t bring myself to. It felt wrong to watch it without you, especially after how you talked about it, so it’s been sitting in that case for months. I hope it still works.” He let out in a quiet chuckle.

You placed the box down on top of the TV and approached him. He watched as you cupped his face with your hands and pulled him down to you, your lips meeting for the first time since seeing him again. That all-too familiar feeling flooded you and this time, you didn’t fight the smile that made its way to your face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” This time, he was the one initiating a kiss, and he snaked his arms around your waist, pulling you into him.

Only when you both needed air and he pulled away to trail kisses down to your neck did you tease into his ear, “So exactly how many girls have you shown this movie to?”

“None,” he breathed, nibbling on your earlobe. “I told you, I didn’t want to watch it without you.”

“You expect me to believe that you haven’t shown the TV or the VCR to any other girls?” You chuckled.

He pulled back to meet your eyes. “Okay, yeah, fair enough, I’ve shown them both of those, but not that movie, I swear. That was always yours.”

You knew you should be disgusted—not only that he had been such a callous player in your absence but also because he had used similar moves on you—but right then, you decided to throw all caution to the wind, even if just for one night. Seeing the movie picture again had reminded you that you needed to take happiness wherever you could find it, because thanks to your life, who knew how much longer you had?

“So,” you whispered huskily as you ran your fingers through his hair. “What were you saying about a bed and no time limit…?”

His eyes lit up with that familiar fire and he smirked. “Oh, hell yes.” He kissed you harder than before and picked you up, making you laugh into his mouth, as he used his transgenic speed to get you to the bedroom.

You watched the images on the screen in awe. You and Alec were sharing a blanket to keep your nude bodies warm as you sat in his embrace, the only light in the place coming from the TV. He had his chin resting on your bare shoulder, watching the movie intently with you. The man from the movie poster, George, was telling the woman, Mary, how he was going to travel the world and he was listing off his dreams right before she threw a rock at the abandoned house they were facing. When they started singing, Alec began to frown, but you? You were completely enraptured. You’d never seen or heard anything like this before.

In the beginning, the tape had seemed like it didn’t want to work, black and white tears in the image as it played, but thankfully Alec knew what he was doing with the equipment and how to get it working. Ever since then, your eyes hadn’t strayed from the screen once, even when Alec had tried to get a second round going, promising you he could pause the film and you could finish watching it later. When he’d failed to garner your attention, he’d pressed a kiss to the back of your head and settled behind you, letting out a quiet sigh of contentment as he’d burrowed into your neck before rejoining you in watching the movie.

When George told Mary that he’d give her the moon, Alec rolled his eyes and dropped a kiss onto your skin. “That’s lame,” he muttered.

You turned to look at him. “Why? Because he wants to give her anything she wants?”

“No. Because he’s going to lasso the moon. Lasso the moon? Really?”

You laughed and he smiled, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Alright, sure, it’s cheesy, but the message isn’t.”

“It’s not?” Alec moved to kiss your ear.

“No. He likes her that much, he’d do anything for her. Kind of nice actually,” you ended in a whisper as you turned back to the screen. You let out a soft chuckle when the old man interrupted the couple and told George that he talked too much and he should kiss Mary already.

Alec, who had glanced back at the screen to watch that part of the scene, turned an affectionate smile on you before leaning in to nuzzle your cheek. “Stay here tonight,” he urged.

Your eyelids dropped halfway when he moved his lips to your neck and you dug your teeth into your bottom lip. “I can’t. Joshua will be worried.”

“The big guy will be just fine, trust me,” he promised, his lips gliding back to your shoulder. “I want you to stay.”

You thought it over. You both had reacquainted yourselves earlier quite nicely so that wasn’t an issue. Just like Alec had said, it had been amazing to be in a bed for once, not under the pressure of a timeclock or having to worry about prying eyes and listening ears milling around. You didn’t have to separate soon after you were finished if the guards Alec usually bribed weren’t on shift that night. Here, you were free to just be and let things take their own course and that had been a phenomenal feeling. As for what came next… you weren’t too sure about that. You hadn’t done a lot of talking since Alec carried you into his bedroom and playfully dropped you on the bed, knowing it wouldn’t hurt you. You had let out an incredulous laugh and he mirrored your grin before he’d been all over you.

You watched as he pressed tender kisses to your bare skin before glancing up at you hopefully. You took his face into your hand and he leaned into your touch. Seeing that, you decided to state your one condition if he truly wanted you to stay. “No more girls.” You refused to look away as you threw down that gauntlet. While he never said he wanted anything more than tonight with you, you needed him to know that if this did somehow go past that, you wouldn’t be wondering just who he had in his bed or on his couch a few hours before you would arrive at his front door. Or who he might bring back to this apartment to show his TV and VCR to.

He stared at you for a moment until the corner of his lips tipped up into a bit of a smug smile. “No more girls,” he agreed.

You tilted your head at him, studying his expression.

“What?” He laughed.

“Just like that?”

Alec’s smile grew and he leaned in to place a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Just like that.” You weren’t the least bit surprised when he suddenly turned you around in his arms to face him, one hand keeping the blanket over you, cocooning you both. He wiggled his eyebrows playfully at you before covering both of your heads with the blanket and leaning in for the kill.

“What about the movie?” You laughed as he began to kiss your neck.

“That’s the great thing about tapes. We can watch it again anytime we want,” he murmured, his hands starting to roam your body insistently.

“So we can watch the lasso the moon part again?” You teased.

He groaned into your neck, making you laugh. “Yeah, we can, if that’s what you want,” he grumbled, sounding like he was going to majorly suffer when you watched it again.

You pulled back, smiling, and cupped his face. “I want you,” you told him earnestly. And you did. You wanted more nights with him like this, you wanted what you two had managed to create back in your cell. Studying him now, you could see the man who had become almost everything to you back then, who’d kept you going during the rough moments, who ended up looking out for you even though he usually lived by the unwritten rule of only ever looking out for himself.

His eyes stared into yours and a small smile began to form on his face. “Then stay,” he urged.

You pretended to think over it for a minute and when you grinned over at him, his smile was already mirroring yours. “Okay,” you answered playfully, as if he had only posed a simple question like asking you if you wanted a drink or not. You moved up to kiss him and bury your fingers in his disheveled hair. “No lassoing the moon required,” you murmured to his lips.

He rolled his eyes and quickly maneuvered you onto your back with him right on top of you. He smirked down at you, leaning in to kiss you. “I’ll give you something better than the damn moon,” he mumbled into your mouth, making you laugh.

You didn’t want the moon or the stars (except the ones Alec made you see exploding behind your eyelids from time to time) or anything else that grand. What you wanted was simple: everything right here in front of you at this moment. A life that was your own, a job that helped keep money coming in, a roof over your head that offered protection from the cold, the wet, and intruders, while offering you a safe space to rest your head at night; food in your stomach, clothes that fit, and the feelings that coursed through you every time Alec kissed you.

Post-pulse Seattle might not be Bedford Falls and you might not be George Bailey or even Mary for that matter, but you were free, you were building a life, and you were happy. And someday, if you lived long enough, you might even get that family you’d been yearning for. From the look of things, between Joshua, Max, and now Alec, you were hopefully already starting to form something akin to the idea. And really, what more could you ask for?

dividers by @firefly-graphics

#alec mcdowell x reader #alec mcdowell x female reader #alec mcdowell x y/n #alec mcdowell fanfiction #thebiggerbear writes #i hate you you have a weird way of showing that

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tkthrilla-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Oh Way Down We Go

An Alastor x Host!Reader that is set in the early days of their contract making, set while reader is in college

______________________________________________________________

“The fucking audacity! I swear if there is even a God- somewhere! Anywhere!” she shouted and screamed, her hands holding tight onto the bars, “Get me out of here!” she continued to yell out in her jail cell.

“Shut up already!” the police officer just outside her cell barked back, having had enough of her tantrums.

“I don’t even know what the hell happened and why I am here! Just let me go!”

“Not until your papers have been processed missy!”

And with a sigh of exasperation, she hit her head against the bars, “great,” she wallowed out, “now my future is ruined.”

“It’s your own fault for being at the crime scene and not cooperating!”

“But I didn’t do anything! I don’t remember anything,” she continued to bang her head on the bars a couple more times before giving up and heading over to the semi clean corner of the jail cell that did not smell or stink of piss. Leaning her back against the wall, and sliding down to sit on the floor in exasperation.

She wasn’t sure how long she had stayed there, could’ve been minutes or hours, people passing by giving her smug looks as if she was the guilty one and she wasn’t getting away with it. All she knew is that this situation revolved around a murder, while she did have an idea as to who committed the murder, she was telling the truth on not know what happened. It’s not like she was awake or anything during the whole thing, and quite frankly, when Alastor takes over their body, he really takes over! While she does get an inkling as to what is happening, unlike Alastor who is there in the back of her head while she is in control, it’s as if she is in a deep sleep.

So you can imagine her ‘waking up’ in the middle of the street to police cars surrounding her, and cops pointing their guns at her while two people tried to drag her away and stuff her into the car! Her head was probably bruised because she was sure one of them knocked her head into the car door! And don’t get started on how they treated her in the interrogation room, literally only screaming and shouting right at her face for a murder that had just happened, five blocks away. She wasn’t anywhere near the scene of the crime! But no, she was the only one closest to the crime scene! It had to be her!

To top it all off, it was supposed to be her day today, and all she wanted to do was stay in and study! But nooooo, Alastor had to be a smartass and take over for the day, despite him know they have an exam in a couple weeks!

Why was she surrounded by idiots and assholes? All this demon was doing was making her life miserable, more so than it already was. With how badly he treats her, like a toy! Did she sell her soul to him? Sure she did. But he was supposed to help make her life better, not ruin it by sending her to prison!

At this point it started to feel like an eternity with how long and how board she had started to get. Till finally a cop showed up and actually started to open the cell, “Come on! You’re being bailed out!”

“Uh ok,” she said, pretty sure she looked dumb and stupid at the notion of her scrambling to get up from the floor, till she questioned, “by who?”

“By me,” a tall and tanned figure appeared in a white dress shirt and brown trousers to match. He wore only what she could describe as a very annoyed smile, his eyes showing no interest whatsoever, as if he would rather be doing anything else and be elsewhere rather than here. Which the feeling was mutual. “Come along… darling…” he held his smile, although that sounded a lot like a sneer. Ok now this guy was about to get on her nerves, but she wasn’t about to push her luck and miss a chance of freedom.

Dashing behind the tall gentleman while being sure to stick her tongue out at the cop, out of pettiness and extreme annoyance. Something the cop visibly reacted to what only could be described as the Beifong look of insult – you know the one.

The two kept silent as they both walked past the office booths full of police personnel, till they reached the reception area full of either visitors or people waiting to be transferred to a different department, more cops filtering in and out of the crowd while they we just two normal people walking out a building… well, almost normal.

The moment they had pasted the main door to go outside, down a couple of stairs, the ever so kind gentleman started to spazz for a second or two, “Uh you ok?” the human who had just got out what could be a prison sentence spoke up.

“Never better!” the gentleman replied annoyance becoming more evident the more his head started to twitch and bend to what should not have been humanly possible.

“Great! Now who are you and why’d you bail me out?! As far as I know I never made a call!” and so the tirade began, the frustration of today and what essentially could ruin an entire life still weighing down heavily.

“Must you be so dense darling?” darling having the main emphasis sounded quite condescending and quite frankly insulting, as the strangers smile started to grow even more annoyed.

“OI nobody calls me darling you creep, now come on answer my question!”

“Really? Nobody!” the man how just fizzled out into thin air, leaving the “darling” in question heavily confused, only finally clicking in a second later when a wave of immense exhaustion came crashing in, nearly knocking her down the stairs as her knees started to buckle. Luckily she caught herself just in time before taking a nasty fall to the head. Great! First jail time with a record and now a whopping hospital bill, what a great way to end the day!

“Al….” she sneered.

“Darling….” He sneered back.

“Since when could you come out of my body and look human you demon?”

“Since those of are the rules of contracts with mortal denizens who are ALIVE,” he placed great emphasis on the word alive, “only able to do so for a few minutes at a time and takes great energy to make it work.”

“And now we are both exhausted and have a don’t know how long walk back home! Something that could’ve been avoided if you didn’t take over today!” Starting to walk down the stairs and struggling to march over to the bus stop that was thankfully conveniently placed infront of the police station.

“Excuse you! Where is my ‘thank you?! I’m the one who got you out!”

“Right after you murdered someone and put me in there in the first place!”

“First of all I unfortunately take no credit in that, although the circumstances were quite humorous! Second, you should be thanking me for erasing records of your involvement and getting you out!”

“Wait you did what?”

“I will not repeat myself dear,” the hmpf in his speech could be heard at the end, making the dear host of the demon just be startled in confusion, climbing up the bus that had arrived and would take them hopefully close to home, paying for the ticket fare.

“Why?” she finally asked after a couple of seconds of silence hung in the air, having finally sat down on something relatively padded and resting for a bit. The exhaustion of Alastor entering her body after he took his human form was weighing more than heavy on her nearly making her pass out on her seat. Only thing that kept her awake was the conversation they were semi-having and the fact that this part of town was not familiar to her so she needed to be aware and pay attention to her surroundings outside of the bus.

“Well I did maul it over after the lad insulted the way we dressed, however there were witnesses and it was broad daylight. Oh the irony of someone else getting to murder him!”

“No I mean, why? As in why erase my records and get me out?”

“Well it would do me no good in having my host behind bars where we would be unable to roam free and cause chaos and madness.”

The pause was evident between the two, leaving them hung in silence. The sun shining bright creating shadows to pass by on the humans face, the tiredness kicking in and making her lean on the bus window. The vibrations from that were making the emerging headache bearable.

“Doesn’t change the fact that it was supposed to be my turn today. Why’d you take over I thought you said you had more important business to take over than make sure a human is peak condition and fit for hurting others,” the sadness hung heavy in what they said, especially after they thought this whole taking over randomly fiasco was over and they finally settled on a schedule.

“I was but business finished early, thought I’d drop by and take over after you mauled at those books of yours for hours. A nice stroll would’ve done you some good!”

“Stroll or hunt for victims?”

“…. Failure,” Alastor retorted, feeling both insulted and called out on his other agendas.

“Dead,” she countered, making a face as she realised she said that out loud of the mental conversation that they were having.

“How dare you?!” he cried in offence.

“I dare,” she retorted, removing her head from the window, the vibrations becoming too much and starting to make said headache get worse.

Alasator let out a Tsk at the sweet and daring audacity his darling host had.

“Thank you.”

“For what exactly?”

“I aint saying anything else! If anything you still owe me!” continuing on with their back and forth banter and shenanigans till they arrived home.

“Speaking of which,” his host started as soon as they returned back into the cramped-up dorm, it was just a small room with a bed, desk and bathroom, but it was cosy enough for one person – well… one person and their radio demon, who turned on the radio amidst the messy pile of books on the desk to fill the background with classic 1920’s music, “I thought you agreed on that schedule, thought I was finally going to have today, or do we need to fight again before we settle it,” the curtain on the window closed as clothes started to be flung all over the place, the human now more than ready to take a long shower to get rid of the smell of rotting hopes, crushed dreams and prison sweat.

“Honestly my dear how lowly do you think of me in this arrangement?”

“Just answer the question Al,” the exasperation could be heard with every word, now entering the bathroom and stopping to look into the mirror to see the dishevelled hair, bloodshot eyes, and dark circles getting darker if that was possible. Plus it was easier to talk to someone who is in your head when you can at least see another person.

“I do not know what to tell you or what it is you wisht o hear, this is my body after all, and you do not do a very good job at taking care of it –“

“You mean my body!”

“My contract, my host, my rules. Therefore, my body! You take these humanly affairs and books too seriously! It is good to pursue knowledge, I do encourage that! But what I do not encourage is this body of MINE to be in poor shape when it gets down to hell!” he continued, wispy and shadowed antlers starting to appear in the mirror, perfectly placed up on the head nearly like a thorny crown, radio static starting to fill the air and drown out the music playing in the background.

“Charming,” she says breaking eye contact with the person in the mirror in favour of getting in the shower. At least she can somewhat count on him to take care of her and get her out of prison before going straight to hell.

#x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #alastor #demon #contract #soul contract #contractor #charlie #vaggie #husker #angel #angel dust #nifty #host au

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bitchesuntitled · 2 months ago

Text

This is Halloween

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader Summary: Frankie can't stand zombies but Nora wants to watch a scary movie. Warnings/Tags: Parents to Lovers universe but can be read as a standalone, Nora's a little shit, cussing, zombies, Frankie may be a little paranoid, Frankie hates zombies, scary movies, Goober gets her own Halloween costume, Humor, teensy bit of fluff, I think that's it. If I'm missing anything let me know! A/N: Everyone thank @whocaresstillthelouvre for letting me steal her idea. She unleashed one sentence and my brain went "OMG. NORA AND FRANKIE!" Thank you @beefrobeefcal for your eyes and for making me a moodboard! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

Masterlist||Parents to Lovers||AO3

divider by @saradika-graphics

Goober perks her head up from your lap, hearing the garage door open.

“Are they home?” You ask her, scratching behind her ears. She gives a soft bark before using your thigh as a backboard to bounce off the couch to the back door, meeting the girls as they enter.

“Mom!” Nora says excitedly, digging into her bag, “Look what we found!” She pulls out a costume, proudly showing it off.

“A zombie?” You ask, “Since when do you want to be a zombie?”

“Since she saw it at the store,” Missy laughs, “She had to convince my dad to buy it.”

Nora having to convince Frankie of something isn’t anything new, but a halloween costume? That’s weird.

“What’d you get, Miss?” You ask, waiting for her to dig into her bag to present you with her costume.

“Beetlejuice!” You laugh, clapping your hands together, “That’s amazing!”

“Dad’s gonna be Bob!” Missy giggles, admiring her new costume.

“Oh Goober!” Frankie sings, laughing wickedly as he enters the living room, “We got you something!”

Goober wags her tail, listening to Frankie talk, flopping onto her side, showing him her belly.

“Missy wants to be Beetlejuice and then said I should be Bob,” Frankie says, kneeling to scratch Goober’s belly, continuing to talk to her like no one else is in the room, “And then guess what we found, Goob!”

Frankie looks to Missy who pulls out a Lydia dog costume.

“Poor Goober!” You groan, “You’re seriously going to put her in that?”

“Duh,” Frankie snarks, “That’s the whole point of buying it! Speaking of which, you need to think of a costume too!”

“I’ll go as a pregnant lady,” you huff, sticking your tongue out at him, rubbing your hand along the prominent bump of your belly.

“No!” Nora wails, falling to her knees, gripping her costume in both hands, shaking it, “You can’t just go as yourself!”

“Yeah!” Missy agrees, eyes widening with an enthusiastic nod, “You gotta dress up for Halloween!”

“I know!” Nora shouts, scooting towards you on her knees to the couch, “Frankie we should go back to the store and get Mom some of those fake zombie bite things and she could go as a zombie like me!”

“A pregnant zombie!” You laugh as Frankie stiffens beside Goober, “I think I’ve seen some of those costumes online.”

“Please Mom,” Nora begs, clasping her hands together and poking her lower lip out.

“Fine,” you smile, poking her nose, “Just for you, kid.”

—

“What do we wanna watch?” Missy asks, trading Nora the remote for the popcorn.

“What about this?” Nora asks, stopping her scrolling on the tv to some zombie movie.

“What’s up with you and zombies now?” Frankie huffs, laying his arm around behind you on the couch.

“What’s up with you and zombies?” You ask, smirking at his hesitance.

“Nothing.” Frankie quickly protests, shrugging, “I just think they’re dumb.”

“Dumb?!” Nora shrieks, whipping around to glare at him, “You’re dumb!”

“Nora!” You scold, “That’s not nice.”

“Yeah,” Missy scowls at Nora, “My dad’s not dumb.”

Things between Nora and Frankie have been less tense and they’re more civil now but they still have their moments. Nora’s sass and Frankie’s stubbornness like to buttheads every once in a while.

“Sorry,” Nora mutters, gently handing the remote to Frankie, “Here. You pick.”

“Thanks.” Frankie mumbles, taking the remote and scrolling through the selection of movies, “Any suggestions?”

“Maybe we should watch something scary.” Missy comments shyly, “It is close to Halloween.”

Frankie lets out a breath, “Okay.” He scrolls back to the zombie movie that Nora had found. “Do you guys really want to watch this?” He asks, clicking on the title to read the description.

“It’d help me and Nora know how to be zombies,” you nudge him with a small laugh. Nora nods her head looking at Frankie with those big round eyes of hers.

“You’re not gonna get scared?” Frankie asks, tapping against Missy’s shoulder with the remote.

“Nah,” Missy shrugs, “Zombies aren’t real.”

“Alright,” Frankie sighs, pressing play on the movie.

As the movie plays out on the screen, you can’t help but feel Frankie tense up every time a zombie is shown. His leg bounced as the growls and groans of the zombies intensified.

“You okay, babe?” You whisper in his ear, rubbing your hand on his thigh.

“Yeah,” he grunts with a nod of his head, leg stilling instantly, squirming as he watches a zombie bite someone, “Peachy.”

When one of the main characters of the film gets bit, Nora lets out a little cheer.

“That guy was mean!” She explains, when Missy gives her a funny look, “He deserved it,” she adds with a shrug of her shoulders.

—

Frankie jumps awake, breathing heavily. He glances over at you lying peacefully asleep, taking a deep breath. It was just a dream, he thinks, rubbing his palms against his eyes trying to rid himself of the images of you and the girls being torn apart by zombies.

He’s been on several tours fighting alongside his friends in wars he didn’t want any part in, seeing first hand what the government is capable of. His friends think he’s crazy for thinking the possibility of a zombie apocalypse happening is real.

He fucking hates zombies. Unpredictable, terrifying bastards. It’s the worst kind of horror Frankie could imagine. The helplessness on what to do, keeping the girls safe, keeping you safe, the list goes on.

The red numbers on the clock read 12:30am when Frankie glances over. The beating of his heart was not settling anytime soon. Half asleep despite what his heart decides to do he decides to get up and go get some water, making his way to the kitchen, he hears noises. Ticks of the clock on the wall, the breeze outside, Goober snoring from her dog bed, and a weird scratching.

Frankie grabs a cup from the cupboard, filling it with water before leaning against the sink as he takes a drink of the cool liquid. His heart rate starts to settle as he focuses on his breathing and drinking more water.

“Fraaaankie,” he hears a soft growl coming from the dark corner.

“What the fuck?” Frankie murmurs, squinting his eyes to see what’s there, the moon casting shadows in through the window of the kitchen, a lone figure is standing in the corner. His heart rate speeds up again, what the fuck is that. A snarl comes from the creature as it reaches its hand out.

Frankie lets out a high pitched scream, dropping the plastic cup in his hand to grab the towel laying next to the sink, throwing it at the creature. Goober starts barking and howling, hackles raised, with all the commotion in the kitchen. With the towel lying beside the creature on the floor, it starts to let out an ear piercing giggle.

“What the fuck?!” You boom, waddling into the kitchen, flipping on the light, “What the hell is going on?!”

Frankie stands next to the sink trying to catch his breath, while Nora continues to laugh, dressed fully in her zombie costume. Goober looks relieved as she registers it’s Nora, tail between her legs as she walks closer to her sniffing the fabric of the costume.

“Mom,” Nora laughs, “Did you hear his scream?!”

“Nora,” you yawn, trying to catch up on what possibly could have happened, “What did you do?”

“I thought it’d be funny.” She shrugs, taking a breath to try and calm herself, “Didn’t know he’d be such a baby about it.”

“I am not being a baby,” Frankie says, glaring at her. “I was half asleep and you scared the shit out of me, Nora.”

“What’s going on?” Missy mumbles, coming behind you, “I heard someone screaming.”

“I scared Frankie with my costume,” Nora giggles, twirling around so the ripped fabric of her costume flew in the air around her.

Missy starts to laugh, “That was you?!” She asks, looking toward Frankie. His ears and cheeks turning a bright red.

“Alright, everyone to bed,” you announce, ushering the girls out of the kitchen. Goober quickly followed behind.

“I cannot believe that happened,” Frankie admitted with a shake of his head, bending to grab the cup off the floor and swiping the towel over to soak up the water he spilled.

“It’s okay, baby.” You smiled, gently rubbing your hand between his shoulder blades, “Everyone’s scared of something. Yours just happens to be zombies.”

Frankie stood rolling his eyes, “Yeah, fake things that aren’t real.”

“Mmm,” you hum, making a face, grabbing arms to loop around your waist, “I don’t trust it.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, giving you a cautious look.

“You don’t think something like that could happen?!” You ask, flailing your arms.

“You think it could?” Frankie asks under his breath, squeezing your waist.

“Duh,” you laugh, “Anything could happen!”

Frankie smiled, leaning in to pepper kisses along your face as you let out soft giggles, he knew you were the one for him.

Tagging some people who I know like the series if you don't wanna be tagged just let me know!

@jay-zzle @soft-persephone @casa-boiardi @pastelpinkflowerlife @amyispxnk @desuidesu @yxtkiwiyxt @pinkypromisepascal @merz-8

#fic: parents to lovers #bitchesuntitled #pedro pascal characters #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales fanfic #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you

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