#pa kyle

[stilldemonwolf]

Let's Play Dress Up

@gotwoode

This kid could be trouble. One voice message was all it took to get the alpha back into the loft. It was where his sexual side had waken up from its slumber. They had so much sex. So much amazing sex. Kyle had not been joking about his stamina. It was impressive. It was breathtaking. Those lips on his. That strong, yet soft body under his hands. That voice echoing in his ears. That ass on his cock. He wanted it all again and he expected it to get it soon after his knocks on the door.

[temeyes]

pov: ur skater boi-core sergeant of a boyfie picks you up after work

[nocternalrandomness]

"Drunk guy steals Piper at airshow"

[bumblekastclips]

KYLE CROUSE: Here's one from Lord Van Oskuro! "Marine is revealed to be a relative of Dodon Pa, cousin or niece. How do others react, in particular a certain princess?"

IAN FLYNN: Uh, I think everyone would have a kind of collective, "How does that work?" But... y'know... she is crazy inventive for a six year old, building all sorts of vehicles... [is corrected from someone off-mic] Seven year old, whatever. KYLE: Tails is supposed to be eight, right? IAN: Eh, he was, but now we don't see ages anymore if you check the Sonic Channel profiles, so, uh... KYLE: Nope... IAN: Who cares about numbers! The point is, she's very young, and... but he's decidedly a tanuki, she's a raccoon. Unless she didn't know she was a tanuki... KYLE: Ba-dum-tss! [chuckles] IAN: I don't know, I think there would more ge- a more general sense of surprise. "How does this work? How does the owner-slash-ruler of an entire auto industrial planet lose his kid on a different dimensional planet?" But then again, he'd probably go, [Dodon Pa voice] "Oh, sorry, I fired up an experimental engine and lost my child through time and space." KYLE: Well, she's not actually his child. 'Cousin or niece,' so... IAN: Oh, that explains the accent, then. KYLE: Related, but not, y'know... IAN: [Dodon Pa voice] "Banish my Australian brother to another dimension! This might backfire, what-what?" KYLE: [laughing] IAN: I don't remember Dodon Pa sounded like. KYLE: [laughs] I don't either. That's good enough!

----- TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: Please remember that nothing that is said on BumbleKast is canon! It's just some guys and their opinions occasionally spitballing ideas. If you don't like an answer, you don't have to take it as Word of God or anything like that. It's all just for fun! ----- This question was requested by @askthemagiccuddlybunnysworths! Do you want a specific question transcribed and posted? Send the question and the episode date to my ask box! Or if you just want questions about a certain character, send me their name and I will see what I can do!

[m3tth4ws]

[this-is-a-name-dont-worry]

j’ai tellement trop d’idées autour d’Hero Corp dans ma tête et il y a personne qui est là pour les écouter et c'est ça ma malédiction.

[norrisainz33]

Party time || ln4

☆ summary: y/n throws a end of season party party and the grid find out ln and y/n have been keeping a little secret

☆ pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader x platonic!grid

☆ fc & warnings: slightly suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: nope! this has been in my drafts for months

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynleclerc has made a post

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ynleclerc: waiting for everyone to get home from this triple header so we can celebrate like …..

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arthur_leclerc: i’m literally sitting next to you do i mean nothing

ynleclerc: uhh yeah you’re not alex or rebecca or carmen or lily or lily or kika or leo

arthur_leclerc: blocked

charlesleclerc: wow leo gets a mention and not me?

ynleclerc: oui

alexandrasaintmleux: leo and i miss you. we’re counting down the days 🤍

charlesleclerc: mon amour 😫 don’t encourage her

ynleclerc: f off charles! that’s my girl!

user1: the leclerc’s and their beauty needs to be studied

scuderiaferrari: you are always welcome to join us y/n 🤍

ynleclerc: merci admin 😘

user2: is the sun bothering you queen 🔫

landonorris: perhaps you should just come to abu dhabi?? ever think of that!

ynleclerc: omg no never thought of that once!!!

landonorris: y/n/n

user4: is it wrong to say i ship these 2

user3: y/n really said i’m bored pay attention to me and she’s so real for that

ynleclerc has posted to their private story

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logansargeant: who is on this private story?? need to know who is invited before i even consider showing up

ynleclerc: just abt the whole grid, my favorite girlies, kyle, patito, and bunch of my other friends - some you know !!

logansargeant: i’ll only go if kyle goes

yourbff: i can’t wait!!!!!!

ynleclerc: me either bestie i miss you

alexandrasaintmleux: i am so excited! i got the finishing touches for my outfit today 🤭

ynleclerc: yessss i can’t wait to see it!! you’re going to look stunning 🤩

alexandrasaintmleux: so are you gorgeous girl

charlesleclerc: Puis-je te convaincre de changer de tenue ? [can i convince you to change your outfit?]

ynleclerc: absolument pas [absolutely not]

charlesleclerc: mais mes collègues vont te voir et je ne peux pas les laisser avoir des idées [but my coworkers are going to see you and i can’t have them getting any ideas]

ynleclerc: tant pis pour toi 😘 [too bad for you]

landonorris: are costumes required for this party?

ynleclerc: no but wouldn’t be a problem because you’re already a clown?

landonorris: and ya know what i hate you

ynleclerc: no you do not muppet

georgerussell63: we’re all going to need this after the season 😫

ynleclerc: no doubt georgie especially bc you were stuck in that tractor

georgerussell63: 💀

iamrebeccad: carlos asked why he’s not on the invite and i said it’s because you love me more and now he’s pouting

ynleclerc: a big big baby he is

iamrebeccad: the biggest

charlesleclerc has added to their private story

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ynleclerc: you may as well have been!!

charlesleclerc: oh so you missed me?

ynleclerc: yes i don’t want to deal with arthur alone anymore

charlesleclerc: i knew it

carlossainz55: wow she didn’t show up to greet me like this???

charlesleclerc: you know the only reason she came to pick me up is because alex and leo were involved

landonorris: where tf was my invite

charlesleclerc: don’t think i don’t know about your little crush on my baby sister

landonorris: gonna have to have a chat w carlos huh

alexandrasaintmleux: my baby girl

charlesleclerc: yes yes you love her i know

arthur_leclerc: she’s so dramatic and for what

charlesleclerc: yes but she is our sister so we must be nice

arthur_leclerc: 🤓☝🏻

iamrebeccad: my two most favorite girls

carlossainz55 has posted to his private story

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ynleclerc: surprised you know what a grwm is

carlossainz55: i’m not that old hermana

charlesleclerc: how are you the favorite friend ?!

carlossainz55: my charm and overall superiority

charlesleclerc: 🙄

landonorris: sooooo carlos… you told charles about my thing for y/n??????????

carlossainz55: what? no i did not!

landonorris: but you’re the only one i told!!!!

carlossainz55: … i may have told rebecca and she may have told alex who may have told charles

landonorris: mate 😭😭😭

carlossainz55: i’m sorry

landonorris: do you think charles knows the full extent?

carlossainz55: rebecca doesn’t think he does

landonorris: great so i can at least keep some of my dignity 😔

alexandrasaintmleux: eeek so cute

arthur_leclerc: you forgot to actually mention that you’re on set up duty not grwm duty

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user2: omg it’s annual end of year party time im so sat i hope the drivers are there and get messy

user3: bisexuality is truly a beautiful thing

alexandrasaintmleux: 😫 mon amour you are stunning

ynleclerc: i love youuuu

landonorris: i’m gonna miss you when i scroll……

ynleclerc: 🤭 good thing you get to see me in real life so no need for missing me

landonorris: so true y/n/n. see you soon 😉

yourbff: i’m foaming at the mouth

patriciooward: 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

ynleclerc: so excited to see you patty

user16: god ur perfect

user22: screw your brothers, i want you

carlossainz55 has posted to his private story

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charlesleclerc: that little gremlin better not be with my sister

carlossainz55: 💀💀💀💀

arthur_leclerc: trying the insta story means he must have really disappeared

carlossainz55: i can’t find him anywhere in this house

yourbff: i can’t find y/n/n either

carlossainz55: charles is gonna have a fit

iamrebeccad: hehhe i think i found him

carlossainz55: oh mi amor where is he?

iamrebeccad: he is with y/n

carlossainz55: where?

iamrebeccad: you can’t get mad at him

carlossainz55: it’s not me you should be worried about

iamrebeccad: they snuck out to get pizza and go to lando’s

alexandrasaintmleux: i may have kept somethings from you and charles 😔

carlossainz55: alex what do you know

alexandrasaintmleux: y/n/n and lando have been seeing each other on the down low for a couple weeks now

carlossainz55: mi amiga 😫 you better butter up charles or his head is gonna explode when he finds this out

ynleclerc has posted to their story

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user2: Y/N THIS IS UR PUBLIC STORY

user3: screaming y/n what is this

charlesleclerc: y/n y/m/n leclerc - this is your public story. where are you both right now?

ynleclerc: OOPS!!!!!!!!

charlesleclerc: yeah oops for sure… where are you??

charlesleclerc: ma sœur stop leaving me on read

lilymhe: ARE YOU BOYH AT THE PIZZA SHOP RN HAHAAH

ynleclerc: Y E S!! i wanted pizza and lando was kind enough to take me

lilymhe: so is this like a thing now?

ynleclerc: i think so yes 🤭

lilymhe: omg you’re an evil, sinister, orange girl now 😭

ynleclerc: SCREAMING

user4: y/n it’s 3am what are you two doing rn

carmenmundt: baby what is this

ynleclerc: 😔 i tried to simp on private but messed up

carmenmundt: obsessed but also how is this how i found out??

ynleclerc: i tried to tell you at the dior show but got scared. this is all so new

carmenmundt: no need to be scared darling!! i am very good at keeping secrets but you let this cat out of the bag it seems

user7: omg are you guys together???

user8: drunken hard launch? girl i love you so much you’re my idol

user9: raw! next question

alexandrasaintmleux: hehehe tea

ynleclerc: is charles breathing still?

alexandrasaintmleux: oh don’t worry about your big brother. he’ll be fine. tell me about LANDO

ynleclerc: he is a dream alex 😭😭😭😭

ynleclerc: we made things official 🥹

alexandrasaintmleux: YESSSSSSS LETS GO ITS ABOUT TIME

user5: y/nlando truthers are UP rn

georgerussell63: laughing hysterically at this

ynleclerc: george shut up

georgerussell63: never

user6: guess your party is going well 😂😂😂

[this post has been deleted by user]

landonorris has posted to his private story

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carlossainz55: mate why won’t you respond to your texts

landonorris: i’m sorry im sorry got a bit caught up

carlossainz55: are you having fun?

landonorris: yes 🥹 we got pizza and she admitted she liked me a lot and wanted to make things official

carlossainz55: why didn’t you tell me you two had been hanging out for a while now???

landonorris: i didn’t want to 1) jinx it or 2) put you in an uncomfortable position with charles 😭

carlossainz55: gracias for thinking of me but i’m always here for you cabron

charlesleclerc: no funny business lando or i’ll run you off the road

landonorris: wouldn’t dream of any funny business charles

lilymhe: i hope yall remember this in the morning 💀

landonorris: actually ☝🏻 we are basically sober

oscarpiastri: you stealing the host of the party to take her to get pizza then to your house is crazy work mate

landonorris: i didn’t steal her 😭

oscarpiastri: then why she not at her own party bro

landonorris: bc she wanted pizza

oscsrpiastri: yea so you stole her

landonorris: 😔

maxfewtrell: get that girl 😤

landonorris: i did mate 🤩

danielriccardo: and who is this?

landonorris: y/n leclerc

danielriccardo: a leclerc?!

landonorris: the leclerc yes

danielriccardo: good job kid

ynleclerc has made a post

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ynleclerc: happy new year from me and mine 🥂✨

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iamrebeccad: stunning 😭

user14: don’t think we don’t recognize those curls on the last slide y/n

georgerussell63: i’m still laughing btw

ynleclerc: and what if i said i hate you

georgerussell63: i’d know you were lying 😘

user23: y/n, alex, rebecca and carmen doing everything together is so important to me you don’t understand

charlesleclerc: wow i made the cut?

ynleclerc: *leo made the cut

charlesleclerc: a brother can dream huh

user45: i love how we are swiftly moving on from that story and back to our regular programming 😭

landonorris: yours you say?

ynuser: perhaps 🫣

alexandrasaintmleux: tea

user47: how am i supposed to be normal about this

user81: don’t edge us omg

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charlesleclerc: please don’t post things like this with my sister

landonorris: i have to show her off charles. she’s too pretty to not be posted 🥹

charlesleclerc: you got me there but i don’t like it mate

landonorris: i’ll treat her right - i promise

oscarpiastri: i’m so glad i don’t have to hear you cry about her anymore 🧡

landonorris: you’ll still hear me crying osc dw

user4: HARD LAUNCH CITY

ynleclerc: you’re so cute im obsessed with you

landonorris: i am the luckiest man on earth

ynleclerc: lando 😭😭

user10: you calling her a gift is sickeningly cute

alexandrasaintmleux: be good to my girl ok? leo and i both will kill you if you hurt her

landonorris: i will! i promise! she is everything i have ever wanted and more and im not going to give that up any time soon

alexandrasaintmleux: music to my ears 🤍

user87: BOTH! i want you BOTH

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[reveluving]

Ok, so Soap and shy wife. We all know he's the definition of sunshine/happy puppy and has the energy of an entire class of kindengarden. Imagine when they first meet the couple and he's all loud and jolly, and wife quietly shakes their hand and says "Nice to meet you" and he INSTANTLY quiets, because he's proud of his Darling to meet his friends/family, also because they're all wondering how she puts up with him🤣❤

LOSING MY MIND AT "they're all wondering how she puts up with him" BECAUSE THAT IS BASICALLY THEIR DYNAMIC 🤧💗💗

Includes: tooth-rotting fluff!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

You just know this man does not shut up about you every time he meets up with his team for work. 

And then, one day, he surprises them with a “she’d love y’all to come over one day.”

“Didn’t you say she’s a lil’ shy?” Kyle voiced out everyone’s thoughts, so to be offered not by the man himself but the meek lady in question was a little surprising, to say the least.

“She is, yeah, but she’s open t’meeting a few pals o’mine.” Johnny meant it to sound casual, but with his mates knowing him for a long time, it wasn’t hard to catch the hint of care in his voice.

And, well, it would be rude to decline a lady’s generous offer, now, would it?

Johnny’s hyped, no doubt, his friends—no, brothers, and his other half finally meeting in person. They didn’t even have to ask, just by the way he was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel or the way he hummed to the radio, likely a playlist the two of you shared.

And with the boys holding some sort of gift for you, just as a thank you for the invite, you greet them by the door as soon as your husband announces his and his friends’ arrival. 

With Simon physically being the closest to you, you wiped your hands on your apron before holding your hand out. Simon nearly struggled with his strength, not expecting your lack of hesitation to greet him, out of all of them.

You introduced yourself, “It’s nice to finally meet you guys.”

Ah, such a sweet voice. So sweet that had Johnny not gone on and on about your shyness, they would’ve thought you were scared of them. But, you weren’t and the proud smile on Johnny’s face says it all. 

Why wouldn’t he? With your warm smile and even willingness to shake Kyle and John’s hands as well. Albeit, you had a habit of looking down every once in a while, especially if they tried to show their respect, i.e. complimenting your cooking, the decor or you in general, it was hard not to find you endearing.

But God knows how you, of all people, manage to put up with his nonsense. 

In the words of Johnny; “Opposites attract, after all.”

And seeing it now, to say Johnny was whipped…. Was putting it lightly.

It’s funny to see Johnny trying his best when it comes to lowering his gruff voice for you, even if you loved it just the way it is.

Though he has a lot of things to tell you, so much love to give you, you have his full attention the moment your lips part.

Each time you open your mouth, he closes his. As if fearing that one word from him would mean talking over you entirely, and he couldn’t bear the thought of that. The hearts in his eyes were tough to miss. He’s expressive, too, hanging on your every word like you were giving him a task when it was just you talking about how you learnt to make the lasagna you served for dinner.

‘SHUT UP, MY BABY HAS SOMETHING TO SAY’ type of beat, but it’s the man who’s saying it that has the loudest voice (and the gentlest heart).

But they’d be lying if they said they didn’t enjoy listening to the stories of how you met and how emo Johnny gets when the dates or outings don’t go his way, even though it all went well in the end.

Why wouldn’t they enjoy seeing his soul leave his body when you mentioned his baby pictures that his mother not only showed you but gave some to you as well?

“Johnny, c’mon, now, she’s a part of the family! She’ll need some photos o’you for when you move in together soon.” Says his mother, gifting you probably a stack of them, as if unfazed by the sight of you and Johnny covering your faces, the temperature of your body heat rising that even you feared you might pass out right then and there. He couldn’t even find the energy to stop his sisters from teasing him.

But besides allowing you to embarrass him a little, even if it wasn’t your intention, your home is another.

A small unit, located on the second floor. The candlelight colour, the cute indoor plants in each room, and the seats. 

Oh, the seats.

John nearly passed out just moments after he sat on it. 

Just by the way you maximized the apartment space, it’s no wonder Johnny always looked forward to returning home. Not necessarily the apartment, but to you. 

Dare they say, the visit felt like a ‘cultural reset’ (is that what the kids are saying these days?). Largely because one; they were able to finally confirm that Mrs MacTavish is a real person and two; one cannot simply ignore the dynamic you and Johnny have. It may be eye-roll-worthy to some, but Johnny learns it isn’t something worth fighting about. So long he has you, those people can yap and nag about it all they want. 

Bonus: John’s definitely the type of person to tell Laswell about it like it was some kind of a mission—like it was almost unbelievable to see you, well, you!

“M’tellin’ ya, Laswell. As soon as his wife had something t’say, he shuts up faster than when I tell him to.” He chuckled before taking a sip of his drink.

“Sounds like a keeper to me.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[onnahu]

So I was just thinking about how most of Jason's non-canon ships are just a big fuck you to his family, and I needed to compile it. It just became funnier with that.

Disclaimer: I do not include batcest, but beside that, it's not about what ship is good and what not. You don't ship it, that's okay. I don't ship or loke some of them either. It's just about hillarity of it all. Be respectful.

JayRoy - steal your brother's ex-best friend (or even funnier, steal your ex if we want pas DickRoy)

JayKori - and I know it's canon they have a romance/something but it's still funny in the context of Jason being a steal your ex guy fpr Dick.

Joyfire - steal your brother's ex-best friend (or ex-boyfriend if we want) and ex-girlfriend/fiance

JayBabs - also sem-canon, but is it really... Do I have to say it again? No. But I will anyways. Steal your ex guy.

JaySteph - steal your other brother's ex (althought personally I'm a fan of Jason and Cass being a steal your ex duo)

JayKon - ✨️steal your best friend✨️

Jayde - when you get together with your ex's (a firiend I guess) father and your brother's worst enemy. Hillarious. (Beside, I like to think Rose would try to get revenge by seducing one of his brothers or, even better, getting with one of Jason's exes. I just think Rose, Essence and Artemis should meet.)

JayKyle - that one is the least fuck you, but like... Kyle's a green lantern, so i'll take it as a win.

[charliemwrites]

Gaz loves his Alpha.

He didn’t think it could be like that - a thief in the night after his heart. A silent creeping fog of devotion and affection, filling his lungs and clogging up his head.

From the stories his parents told - a beautiful Alpha/Omega pair, perfectly mid-spectrum that bore two pups - love is wildfire. It sparks, catches, spreads. Heat and light, it burns sometimes. Unmistakable, though, as it consumes.

It wasn’t like that with Saint. Like the Alpha themself, the love trickled in unobtrusive but steady, a dawning of new emotion, forging bonds like bands of sunlight cresting the horizon. Not a crackling blaze but a warming light. Until all at once it was day; it was love.

Saint, patron of devotion.

They’re sleeping under Gaz right now. Long, deep breaths that raise him with each inhale, a slight purr on each exhale. Content with his company even when unconscious.

Their eyes are closed, head lolling to reveal the strong column of their throat. The edge of their scent gland peaks past their compression shirt, a fresh smear of neutralizer over the bruised skin.

Post-Rut Saint is delicious. Lazy and slow as they recover energy and spent calories, napping in long shifts. Languid, relaxed, effortlessly Alpha.

They shift as the scent of Gaz’s arousal tickles their nose, tongue peaking out to swipe over the sharp curve of their fangs. Muzzle on again, of course, but one with bars instead of grid, easier to see their pretty mouth. Gaz is in no condition for another round, not after the thorough three days of fucking he and the other Omegas received, but the thought still makes his gut flip pleasantly.

He churrs, just to see what Saint will do, still mostly asleep.

The Alpha churrs sleepily back, the big hand curled around his thigh flexing.

Always so responsive, his Alpha, now that he knows what to look for. Saint never ignores them, never dismisses them. They’re always attuned to the Omegas, listening, ready to provide. Indulgent, even. Gaz and the others are spoiled - not that anyone would get away with saying so.

“Alpha…” he coos, nuzzling under Saint’s chin.

He does it because he can, and it’s still a novelty. An Alpha so extreme on the spectrum, yet so tolerant of vulnerability and all the liberties he and Soap take. Licking and nipping at their throat, scenting them on a whim, leaning and tugging and pressing close all the time. Not even a grumble for their trouble, just slow blinks and chuffs of amusement.

Alphas usually don’t let anyone but mates or pups near their throats, the submissive subtext and dangerous position grating on their instincts. But Saint has always let Gaz shove his nose against their jugular, or that tender spot beneath their ear, or the hollow where their purr sounds best. Even now, only just stirring, they tilt their chin back to grant him access.

“Omega,” they rumble, and a shiver wracks Gaz from head to toe.

Saint is rare with their voice. Saves it for the field or private moments; the subharmonics are intense, dominating. He barked at an Alpha recruit the other day, a touch less patient in pre-Rut, and the kid practically threw himself to the ground, belly up and whimpering submission. The other recruits dropped their knees and eyes, shying away from the Alpha’s correction.

The response that voice garners in their Omegas is different. Yielding rather than submitting. A happy, gooey melt rather than a brutal breakdown. For Gaz, it sounds like safety, protection, care, leadership. He still gets goosebumps remembering the first time he heard it, during a long-awaited Heat.

“Kyle.”

He jerks a bit, realizing that the voice isn’t just in his memory. Saint is waking, roused by Gaz’s incessant poking and prodding. As always, they don’t seem bothered. Their thumb caresses the back of his neck, sweeps along his hairline, soothing him.

He sits up a bit, anyway. Saint blinks at him through heavy-lidded eyes, obviously not quite with the program yet. That subsonic hum of an Alpha entreating their Pack member to stay, settle, sleep is still vibrating in their chest. Kyle chirps in return, a greeting and assurance in one.

“Time to eat, Alpha.”

Saint blinks twice more, takes a more deliberate breath in. Coming alive again. The subtle shifts in muscle beneath Gaz are enough to obsess over. He’d love to know what they do in that Alpha gym every day, they’re a work of art. Type of body that could go on the cover of porn magazines and Heat partner sites.

Saint yawns, big and wide, teeth on display. Shakes their head a bit to dispel the last of the cobwebs.

“Mm.”

That’s his cue.

He clambers off the Alpha, stretches out long and lithe, maybe showing off just a little. His effort is rewarded with Saint following, nuzzling his hip with an appreciative purr, before standing. They pop their neck with a quick jerk of their chin, before turning to Gaz. Always waiting, always ready.

“The others said they’ll meet us there,” he explains, heading for the door.

Like Alphas of old, Saint always stays at Gaz’s elbow. Easy to speak to, but clearly following the Omega without inciting the sense of being hunted. (Not that Gaz would mind Saint hunting him… not at all.)

“In the usual spot?” Gaz asks, pointing at the 141’s table. At Saint’s nod, he adds, “I’ll get you a tray if you want to go change into the bite guard.”

They hesitate for a moment, considering. Then nod, brushing their wrist against Gaz’s shoulder. He beams, swipes his jaw against Saint’s shoulder, before sauntering to the line.

It’s rare that Saint will wear any less than a muzzle, especially somewhere public like the caf. But post-Rut has them ravenous and slightly less reactive, lowering the bite risk in conjunction with their already iron-clad control. Enough so that they for once feel comfortable settling for a bite guard.

Gaz happily loads up their plate with their favorites, glancing around every once in a while for his other Pack members. Ghost and Price had paperwork to catch up on and Soap switched recruit duty with Gaz so that he could rest a little longer after that final round. They must not be done just yet - no surprise there, they’ve timed it to avoid the worst of the meal crowd.

As Gaz steps out of the line, a tray in each hand, he’s surprised to find the table absent of his Alpha. Saint’s adept with their muzzle and their bite guard, it hardly takes them any time at all to place or remove either.

Then he spots them by the water fountain. They’ve clearly gone to grab an extra cup, dehydrated from Rut. But they’ve been held up by someone.

Gaz recognizes them as a recent transfer, an Omega operator with a decent record. He has no opinion about them one way or another, hasn’t had much chance (or reason) to work with them.

Or at least he didn’t have an opinion until right this moment.

Because they’re not just talking to his Alpha. They’re leaning into Saint, tilting their head just so to show off their pristine mating gland. They’re peering at Saint through their lashes, swishing their hair to release their scent.

And that would be fine and good. At a cafe, a bar, a club, the bloody grocery store - hell, even here. It would be, if they were acting that way with anyone else. Gaz would even cheer them on.

But that’s Saint. That’s the 141’s Alpha. Their Alpha that they’ve built a bond with, that takes care of them, that they love.

And Saint is treating them the way they do every Omega. Calm and stoic, head tilted in non-threat. Listening to what this Omega could need of an Alpha. Only the subtle clench of their jaw and stillness of their chest indicating that they’re even remotely uncomfortable. Speaking to a strange Omega with no muzzle on, post-Rut, in a crowded place.

“Look like you’re about to explode, what’s got you burning pheromones?” Ghost asks.

Gaz didn’t even hear him approach but he’s too busy wrestling down his less flattering instincts to be startled.

Omegas don’t usually have the territorial edge to their protectiveness that Alphas have. Usually. Not never.

“Look,” Gaz growls, jerking his head.

Ghost follows his piercing gaze. “Ah.”

There’s a beat of silence as the Omega sways closer, obviously purring even if they can’t hear it at this distance.

“Well?” Ghost prompts.

Gaz takes a couple steps forward before he even realizes it. Pauses when Ghost’s hand lands on his shoulder, staying. Right. Best not to cause a scene, even if obscene instinct is demanding he climb Saint right there.

Instead, he clears his throat.

“Alpha!” He barks. Not needy or wanting. Demanding.

Saint’s head whips around, silvery gaze locking on Gaz instantly. They don’t look away as they dip their head politely to the other Omega, a silent goodbye, and stride across the room in a handful of long strides.

The rolling chur they let out is questioning, surprise in the arch of their dark brows when Gaz shoves his face in theirs. Scenting them there too, where the skin is so rarely available for it.

“You're irresistible, Alpha,” Ghost chuckles.

Saint grunts in distracted greeting, still looking confused. A big hand circles the back of Gaz’s neck, not quite a scruff.

“Settle,” they murmur, ducking their head to kiss his temple. “Eat.”

And Gaz would be more ashamed of how loud he instantly starts purring - if not for the way Saint’s eyes soften and the corners of their mouth curl slightly up, fond.

“Same to you,” Gaz huffs, tugging their belt loop.

Most Alphas would take at least mild offense, would tell him to watch it, only half joking.

But Saint chuffs in acquiescence and sits, leaving their own Omegas to stand over them - even if momentarily.

Ghost and Gaz settle in, just in time for the Johns to step out of the chow line as well.

“What did that bird want?” Ghost asks as he digs in.

Saint doesn’t take their eyes off their last two pack members. They shrug.

“Looked like they were chattering up a storm,” Gaz notes, only a little tart.

Saint flicks him a devastatingly attractive smirk. “Couldn’t hear them over you.”

And Gaz doesn’t need to hear them say it, to know that Saint loves him just the same.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Hi, your last post about reader not knowing that it was sa, I saw that and I wanted to request something. What if reader knows that she have been through it but she mentions this as a joke, she says it and just keep going like she said something silly. How would the boys (141 + konig) react?

(I do this sometimes and I don’t like it, but it feels like some kind of copying mechanism)

I’m sorry if this was too much, do not feel that u need to write this.

Anyway, thank u so much and take care

Honestly I make out of pocket jokes about my own trauma all the time, so I feel this

tw: mentions of trauma, brief mentions of sexual assault- nothing graphic or descriptive, humor as a coping mechanism, comfort

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

Whiplashed so hard his neck is broken

“You bein’ serious?”

You explain what happened but you’re a little too blasé about it, he understands humor as a coping mechanism but this is a little serious

And by ‘a little’ I mean very

“Love, you can’t just drop a bomb like that.” He tries to soften his tone but his rage at what you’ve just told him is starting to seep through

He doesn’t realize he’s being a little hypocritical, we’ve all heard his “army humor” so he really doesn’t have a lot of room to talk. But the fact that it happened to you has blinded him to that fact. It’s not that you can’t make jokes, it’s that you shouldn’t have to because it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.

He doesn’t even let you apologize before he’s pulling you into his arms, hands shaking, doing his best not to imagine what kind of sick fuck would do that to you

“Simon, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” His tone is firm and he’s refusing to let you go, so instead of arguing, you opted to melt into his embrace. Hands running up and down his back and as he’s kissing the crown of your head he’s wondering how worthwhile it’d be to give the fucker a visit. Maybe teach him a lesson or two.

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

Laughing with your joke at first but then it hits him like a ton of bricks

“Beg your pardon?”

You explain the joke and the context with a dismissive laugh before going back to what you were doing and he’s just frozen in place

Someone… hurt you… in one of the most awful ways imaginable, and you’re laughing it off?

He’s not sure if he should be in awe at your resilience or concerned at your choice of coping mechanism, so he takes a gentle approach

“Bonnie, you know you can talk to me, aye?”

“I know, I just… don’t want to burden you with it. I mean, it’s not like it’s your fault it happened.” He’s holding your hands in his, gently massaging the space between your thumb and your index finger,

“Aye that’s true, but it’s you. And I love you, good and bad included.” He gently held the back of your head and kissed your forehead,

“Anytime you feel like talkin’ I’m here. Copy?”

He doesn’t usually bring work jargon home but he knows it gets a laugh from you, and sure enough your little giggle proved him right

“Copy.”

John Price:

The whiplash also broke his neck

“Sorry, what?”

His heart broke when you explained yourself and whined that the explanation ruined the punchline

“Sweetheart, that’s no laughin’ matter.” His tone was gentle as he approached you, hands hesitantly coming to rest on your hips, suddenly unsure of himself

“Honey, I’m fine. It’s how I cope.”

“I know, and there’s nothin’ wrong with that. Just, maybe, talk to me about it instead, yeah?” One of his hands came up to cup your cheek and you closed your eyes and leaned into the warmth of his palm, trapping it between your cheek and your shoulder

“I don’t wanna be a downer, John.”

“Never. I’m more concerned for your well-being than bloody mood. Am I clear?” As you looked in his eyes, you saw nothing but honesty and genuine concern, so you nodded

You closed your eyes and kissed his palm before he pulled you in to a tight embrace.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

He heard you say it and weakly laughs before stopping as he chews on the words a little more

“Wait, what was that?”

And when you’re passively explaining it to him in the same way you’d talk about the weather he is in shock

He’s not sure if you’re trying to put on a brave face if you’re as nonchalant as you seem. He’s inclined to believe it’s the former.

“Babe that’s no joke. That’s kind of serious.”

“Don’t sweat it, Kyle. It’s how I’ve dealt with it. I’ve got it.”

He’s unsure but at the same time if it’s really worked for you so far then there’s no harm in letting it continue right? Wrong. He’s a little uncomfortable but it’s more so because it happened to you, someone he loves so deeply and he can’t fathom the idea

“Well yeah, I get that. But maybe we can talk about it when you feel like joking about it?” He shrugs, his words cautious and carefully chosen as he makes his suggestion

“I just want you to be alright. Ok?” His arms are rubbing yours before he’s pulling you into a hug, “I’ll always be here for you, babe.”

König:

Not a single chuckle from this man as he’s chewing over the words in his head

“Schatz, what’d you just say?”

When you explained what happened with a shrug and an all too casual tone, he’s tasting iron in his mouth from how hard he’s biting his cheek

He doesn’t want you to think he’s angry at you, never in a million years, but jesus christ schatz, surely there’s no way?

It’s not that he doesn’t believe you, he just can’t believe it happened to you, you’re the light of his life, his reason for existing, you’re the morning sun and the midnight moon, he’s truly in shock

“König?” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts and in two short steps he was in front of you, sinking to his knees and hugging your middle. He’s buried his face in your shoulder as your arms wrap around his shoulders and you run your fingers through his hair.

“Liebling, please don’t make those jokes anymore, ok?” His voice is so small and fragile, you almost felt like it was a child talking instead of the 6’ something behemoth at your feet, “I can’t stand to hear that you’ve been hurt like that.”

“König it’s ok, really. Humor is how I cope.” You kiss the crown of his head and your chin against it,

“I know, liebling, I know but I’d much rather you talk to me ok? Please? For me?”

[stilldemonwolf]

@gotwoode​

Ever since he got the penthouse back, with the help of Xanthus, Deucalion had busied himself in actually making the place livable. Who would have thought that interior design would be so exhausting? He had taste, so his new home required to reflect it. However, he also needed to be outside. He needed a break. He needed a drink. A restaurant seemed to be the perfect combination of all of his needs. He had his dark glasses and cane. He knew it was wrong, but extra pampering was a necessity, so enjoy the host taking him to the table and carefully describing some items in the menu.

His ears caught the attention of a young man who seemed to be prey on by someone. He did not want to get involve, but was not in the mood to have creeps in his time of leisure. He excused the server and slowly walked to both young man. He created a story right away as soon as he placed himself between both men. He turned his wrist and pressed the length of the cane on the fan’s abdomen. “Son! There are you are. How rude of you to leave your blind father looking for you in this place. Good thing my ears are still good enough to recognize your voice. The young lady got us a table. .”

[rosiehrs]

roster | mikha lim.

part one of three.

summary ; excitement was something she was missing and you provided it for her. she thinks you're clueless, but she doesn't know that every move she's made has already been played by you.

pairing ; mikha lim x fem!reader

content ; mikha goes to admu, reader goes to up, mikha volleyball player, BABAERO CONYO MIKHA!!!, hookup culture, half smau...., suggestive, read to see ^-^ !!! taglish w eng translations!

genre ; fluff, angst

wc ; 3.8k

playlist here !!

a/n ; thank u @heybeautifulstranger for helping me translate hehe labyu

mikha loved volleyball. without it, she was nothing. at least, that's what she believes.

she put all her time and effort into the sport, disregarding everything else to improve herself. she was already the star player; every young person in the country was familiar with the name ‘mikha lim’. although the girl was incredible at her sport – that wasn’t the reason why she was so well known.

mikha was attractive. she knew that and apparently everyone in the country did, too. people came to her games to watch her play, but not watch her play. mikha wished people focused more on her performance as an athlete, but she wouldn’t lie and say she didn’t like the attention. support was still support.

“huy, friday night na at nagpapractice ka pa? late na, mikhs. umuwi ka na. (it’s friday night and you’re still practicing? it’s late, mikhs. you should go home.)” her coach advised, putting equipment away. mikha laughed, gripping the ball she held. “not yet, coach. may energy pa ako. (i still have energy.)”

“baka namimiss ka na ng jowa mo. (your girlfriend might miss you already.)” she teased, earning another laugh from the star player. “i don’t have time for a relationship po.”

“oo nga, baka magalit ang mga fangirls and boys mo. (that's right, your fangirls and fanboys might get mad)” she joked, mikha rolling her eyes playfully. she threw the ball over to her coach, deciding to pack up for the night. “i can’t have a jowa when i’m supposed to be the nation’s girlfriend!” she grabbed her bag and water bottle, turning to her coach who was clearly amused by her answer. “i’ll go home na po, night, coach! see you next week.”

“bye, mikhs.”

she gets into her car, checking her phone for the first time in hours. dozens of notifications flooded her phone as soon as she changed her focus from do not disturb. ranging from message requests sent by ambitious and confident (delusional) fans to thirsty comments on her posts to getting tagged on edits, and so much more.

she ignored all of them and immediately checked her messages.

when she said she had no time for relationships, she meant it. but that didn’t mean no time for some fun. she drove home to freshen up and get ready to meet up with her friends.

the loud and busy atmosphere always amuses mikha. while some people enjoy quiet and intimate places, mikha enjoyed the club. 

“lim! over here!” kyle, one of her friends, calls out. she made her way past the sea of dancing drunks and sat with her group. “get me a drink, kyle.” she said, making the group laugh. “wow, hello to you, too.” he sassed before getting up to get mikha’s go-to. “sinong target mo today, mikhs? (who's your target of the day, mikhs?)” evan asked with a smirk on his face. “kakarating ko lang, van. (i just got here, van.) let me drink first, then that question will be easy to answer.” 

kyle shortly came back to the table with mikha’s drink, sliding it over to her excitedly. “thanks, kyle.” she dragged, taking a sip from the glass. “okay, you drank na. who’re you going after?” evan pushed, causing the group to laugh. “what if you just sit and relax, mikhs? it won’t hurt to go a night without sleeping with a random girl.” aiah suggested, foolishly, mikha thought. she scoffed, shaking her head. “ate aiah, where’s the fun in that? besides, i’m not in the mood to sleep with someone tonight.”

“then?”

“baka make out lang... (probably just make out...)”

and that’s exactly what she did.

as soon as she got a little tipsy, she moved to the dance floor and picked a girl up without even trying. she pushed the girl against the wall, her lips on hers and hands on her waist. mikha had no idea what her name was or where she came from. they made small talk before, but mikha didn’t bother listening. she knew where this was gonna lead and she didn’t want to waste time remembering details about someone she was never going to see again. 

she pulled away from the girl, who’s eyes twinkled with excitement. “this was fun, thanks…?”

“jen! my name is jen! but it’s okay if you don’t remember! you wanna get out of here? we can get out of here!” she asked, eager to spend more time with mikha. she slowly let go of jen’s waist, squinting her eyes before shaking her head. “nah, i’m good. you have a good night, though.” and with that, she left the girl alone in the bathroom stunned and embarrassed. 

she made her way back to her group’s table, all eyeing her with amusement in their eyes. “what?” she asked, grabbing a fry from the basket they were all sharing. “who was it?”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” she shrugs, grabbing another fry to try and end the conversation.

“maybe you should check your hair and makeup before you leave the bathroom, lim.” kyle teased, catching mikha off guard. “shit, is it bad?”

gwen laughed before passing her a wet wipe. “nakakatawa ka, mikhs. (you’re funny, mikhs)”

“i don’t even remember her name. it was like jane something..?”

“jen?! jen santos?! you made out with jen santos?!” evan yelped, letting out the biggest laugh. “what’s wrong..? she was pretty.”

“yeah, she’s pretty. but she’s like.. obsessed with you. i heard she’s been trying to catch you at one of these things so she’s gone to every club in the area.”

“are you being for real..? what if we’re talking about different jens?” mikha suggested. but evan was quick to whip his phone out and show her jen’s account. “is this her?”

“oh..”

evan let out another laugh, causing kyle to laugh with him. “she’s just gonna keep coming here now! we need to find another place!” they joked, earning an eye roll from her. “she’s probably not that bad, you’re just–”

“mikha!” a voice calls out, catching everyone’s attention. it was jen. she walked over to their table a little too excitedly, standing over mikha and placing her hand on her shoulder. “i think you should rethink your decision, malapit lang ang place ko! (my place is near!) we could dip right now.” she offered, trying to be seductive. “ah.. i’m good, jane.” mikha replied, removing her hand off of her shoulder. “it’s jen, pero okay lang! (but it’s okay!) you wanna sit with me? nakaupo lang ako doon. (i’m just sitting there)”

“i’m good.. i’m here with my friends. you have a good night, though.” she smiled politely, trying her best to send her away. “oh, okay! i’ll catch you mamaya (later)! i’ll get your number or something.” 

mikha simply nodded as the girl walked away, extremely giddy from the interaction. “shit.. no wonder why it was so much easier.” they all laughed at her, echoes of various comments following. “this is why you should’ve listened to me and stayed still.” aiah joked, but meant it.

“next time, i won’t even look at a girl.” her friends snickered knowing that would never be possible.

you were a casual sports enjoyer, being in a sports enthusiastic school – you couldn’t escape it. everyone would go to all the games, basketball, volleyball. it was one of the few things that brought everyone together, but it never came above your academics. 

it wasn’t like all you did was study, you liked to think you had a healthy school life balance, going out with your friends whenever they wanted to hang out, seeing some people here and there. you were able to maintain a good social life with good grades and that was more than some people could wish for. 

and your unexpected ‘attention’ really did help you get through a lot. it all started when you helped your best friend, jay, out with his band, x:o’s set at a local event. they were starting to become popular, their songs being played across the country. they were heavily praised for their good music and well.. good looks. 

x:o consisted of five members, jay, jake, stephen, ricky and evan. they were indeed a group of attractive young men and managed to put out really good music. after the gig, the group’s account dedicated a post thanking those who helped out and you managed to catch the eyes of a lot of fans. 

after the post, your social media accounts started to gain traction, earning a few thousand followers in the time span of a week. you appreciated the attention, but with your focus on school, you were never really active on social media, only posting a few pictures and a few tweets here and there. the attention only grew from there as more and more people started to approach you, later sharing on social media how kind and down to earth you were or how pictures didn’t do you justice. jay teased you for it all the time, joking about how he should be your manager since he’s the reason why all of this started. 

your entire friend group has never missed a gig of theirs, but people only ever pointed you out. you and jay started to gain attention as a pair, people getting suspicious by how close you were, eventually leading to them thinking that you were dating. both of you never made an effort to shut the rumours down as you simply didn’t care. (and it helped jay a little with the people who would flirt with him)

your group would laugh at the posts knowing that you looooved women. you were jealous of jay because of the girls that would approach him; some very attractive girls. ‘i should’ve joined a band’ you would joke whenever a girl would speak to him.

x:o landed a gig at the vault, a very popular club in the area. every weekend this place was crowded, which is why this gig is a big deal. jay was setting up with his band while the rest of you (except angelo) had started drinking. “thanks sa food, ate jho! (thanks for the food, jho!)” sheena shrieked, stuffing her face with the food jhoanna bought for her. “wala yun… dapat magpasalamat ka kay y/n kasi treat niya ‘to. (it’s nothing, you should actually be thanking y/n since this is her treat.)” she glared, causing you to laugh. “okay lang yun, jho! libre kita next time, bribe lang kasi ‘to. (that’s okay, jho! i’ll take care of it next time, this was only just a bribe.)”

“ang daming tao rito, mga walay batasan. (there are so many people here, people with no manners.)” colet commented, kissing her teeth and subtly glaring at everyone she saw. “yun oh, yung naka green, suntukin ko siya, beh– (that one, the one wearing green, i’m gonna punch her–)”

“nakarating pa lang natin, may suntukin ka agad? (we just arrived and you’ve already found someone to punch?)” 

whilst your group started bickering about colet’s impulsive (and violent) thoughts, the nation’s girlfriend had arrived with her group of friends. “guys, we were just here last week.” mikha complained, getting dragged by kyle. “since when have you ever been against clubbing?” kyle asked, “besides, we’re here for evan. supportive friends tayo diba? (we’re supportive friends, right?) our little rockstar, performing at our favourite club. full circle moment na ‘to, guys. umiiyak na ako. (this is a full circle moment, guys. i'm crying now.) ” the girls rolled their eyes at his drama, hitting him with teasing comments about how lame he was.

your two groups were together more often than anyone realised. despite having friends in the same band; your friend groups never came in contact with each other. jay was familiar with evan’s friends and evan was familiar with jay’s friends, but their friends knowing each other wasn’t the case.

mikha slid over to the bar, smiling at the bartender as a non-verbal order. she was here all the time and was very familiar with all the staff. while waiting, she looked around to observe the crowd and her eyes landed on an unfamiliar face. she stared at you for a few seconds, growing more and more curious as she watched you from a distance. feeling someone’s gaze, you turned to the side and locked eyes with the particular redhead. the both of you held eye contact until a glass was placed in front of her. she turned away from you to thank him and immediately turned her head back to your direction, but to her disappointment; you were gone. 

she brought her drink over to their booth, everyone curious about her expressions. “nangyare? (what happened?) you good?” gwen asked, concerned. “yeah, i just think i found my girl for the night.”

“ayan ka na naman. (here you go again.)” aiah sneered, shaking her head. “sino ba? (who is it?)” 

“i don’t know yet eh, but i’ll find out.”

you got back to your group with snacks in hand, sitting down next to sheena. “nakita ko yung atenean na volleyball player (i saw that atenean volleyball player). the redhead.” 

“ah, mikha lim? nandito siya? (she’s here?)” jhoanna asked. “is that her name?”

“yeah, kaibigan ata siya ni evan. bakit? (i think she’s friends with evan. why?)” gelo replied, throwing a peanut into his mouth.

you shrugged and took a sip of your drink, “wala lang (nothing), she’s pretty.”

“her fans call her the nation’s girlfriend,” gelo added, making sheena giggle. “seryoso! (i’m serious!) babaero yan. (she’s a player)”

“ang corny, (how corny)” she added. you rolled your eyes at her, although you did agree. but you did see why they called her that. you only needed one glance to see that she was attractive. 

as time went by, more drinks were bought. kyle was already failing to stand up straight and the band had yet to start. both groups made their way to the front of the stage, cheering as the much anticipated band started preparing for their entrance. “the vault, let’s make some noise!” cheers erupted as the five members walked onto the stage, all their faces laced with excitement and determination. “are we ready to have some fun tonight?” jake beckoned with his bass guitar in his hand. the cheers grew louder, all of you grinning at jay as you saw the excitement on his face, “this is ‘looking for somebody (to love)’, hope you enjoy!”

the familiar guitar melody started playing, jay and stephen immediately getting into it. everyone in the crowd started dancing along as jay started singing the first verse. mikha coolly bopped her head to the music, trying her best to avoid contact with random strangers. you were on the other side of the stage as she caught your eye, her red hair made it easy for her to stick out in a crowd. you admired how elegant her small movements managed to be, smiling briefly as you watched her dance with her friends. coincidentally, she looked up and locked eyes with you once again. a small smirk crawled across her face, pleased with the fact that she had your attention in this crowd. you sent a small smile her way before turning away to dance with jhoanna. she couldn't tear her eyes off of you. she needed to have you.

a few songs after, the crowd seemed to quiet down. “should we slow it down a little? gusto niyo ba? (would you guys like that?)” jay asked, playing with his earpiece.

“this is fallingforyou.”

What time you coming out? 

We started losing light

mikha turned to find you, seeing you leaning on colet. you felt her gaze on you, tilting your head as your eyes met once again. she was amused, but she didn’t know why. there was something about you that was so alluring. she moved to face the band before turning back to look at you, but you were gone. again.

“uh, guys, i’ll be back.” she said, eyes searching through the crowd to find you. “yeah, yeah. have fun, mikhs.” they replied, knowing what she was leaving to do.

she pushed past dozens of people on the dance floor, relentlessly trying to find you. after getting past what felt like hundreds of people, she finally found you standing against a wall near the side exit with your arms crossed. 

“eager, are we?” you asked as she walked towards you. “no.. not really. i mean, you must be though, right? leaving the crowd to wait for me here?” she grinned, standing over you. “who says i’m waiting for you?”

“your eyes are telling me everything i need to know.” she mumbled, hand travelling to your waist. “everything? really?” 

And on this night and in this light

“am i wrong? do you have something else to say to me?” 

you hummed, pretending to think, letting her pull you closer towards her. “bilisan mo na. (hurry up.) i’ve been thinking about you for almost an hour now. my patience is running out.” she complained, ducking her head into your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo. your breath hitched as her face moved closer to yours, “can i?”

you replied by grabbing her neck and placing your lips eagerly onto hers. mikha let out a breath of content, pleased with the contact you two were finally making. she gripped onto your waist, soothing you with caresses every now and then. 

I think I’m falling, I’m falling for you

your lips moved against each other with vigour, pouring out all of the lust and need you managed to have for each other in a short period of time. for the first time in forever, mikha was excited. she loved the feeling of your lips against hers, the faint scent of your shampoo, how you felt in her hands. she didn’t want to stop kissing you.

you pulled away briefly, placing your head on her shoulder, trying to catch your breath. “you.. i...” she began, unable to form words. you laughed and patted her cheek, not bothering to speak as you knew you’d go through the same struggle. “you wanna get out of here?” she managed, looking down at you with lidded eyes. “i’d love to, but i’m here with my friends.” you answered, the taller girl clearly not pleased with your answer. “please,” she whined, wrapping her arms around your waist to bring you into a hug. “i don’t even know your name, i can’t leave with you.” you laughed, hugging her back regardless. “my name’s mikha, can we go now?”

you laughed once again against her shoulder, shaking your head. “well, mikha. i still can’t leave with you.” 

“thank you all so much! we’re x:o, we hope to perform for you guys again soon! mag ingat kayong lahat! (take care everyone)” you heard from the speakers, causing you to fix your posture. you slowly let go of mikha, getting an annoyed groan out of her. “i have to go, it was nice meeting you, though! mag ingat ka, ha? (take care of yourself, okay?)”

“wait, what?”

“i’ll see you, mikha.” you smiled, locking lips with her once more before you ran into the crowd to find your friends. 

“wait! i don’t even know your name!” 

mikha groaned, throwing her head into her hands. who cares if you were with your friends? she could take care of you (in more ways than one). she stayed there for a few minutes, trying to fight off the warm feeling you left her with. she made her way back to her friends shortly after, evan finally joining them. “mikhs! i was wondering if you were gonna come back. you okay?” aiah asked as she sat down next to her. mikha defeatedly dropped her head onto aiah’s shoulder and sighed, “yeah..” was all she let out.

she felt frustrated, you brought her so much excitement and even if she wanted to do it again (which she did); she wouldn’t be able to. this was the first time she wished she made some sort of small talk before, because other than the taste of your lips and the scent of your shampoo – she knew nothing about you. 

you rushed back to your friends, blindly trying to fix your appearance before reaching them. you saw colet waiting besides the door that led backstage. “well, well, well.” colet began, “nakakatawa ka talaga, beh. (you’re really funny.)” she laughed before dragging you inside. “look who i found. bumalik siya, guys. (she came back, guys.)” you rolled your eyes at her before hugging jay, “good job, jayboy! you did great tonight.”

“eh, pano mo malalaman? nawala ka bigla. (how would you know? you just disappeared.)” sheena joked, sticking her tongue out at you. “i heard the entire set! ano ka ba? (what are you saying) i was just doing something.” "right.. right.. you should fix your makeup, y/n. that something didn't really hold back."

“what?!” you asked, grabbing the mirror jhoanna was holding out for you and immediately turned around in embarrassment. you quickly tried rubbing the lipstick marks off your face as your friends laughed at you.  

“whatever, guys. basta (anyway), good job, jay.” 

he laughed but was thankful for the support. "it's okay, y/n. it's a club! i encourage this behaviour, in fact - i endorse it." you rolled your eyes at him as he slung his arm around your shoulders. "let's go na? back to mine? we can get food and drinks on the way." he suggested, wanting a more intimate celebration. "paano ang mga bandmates mo? celebration niyo? (how about your bandmates? your celebration?)" angelo asked. "we had our little moment na after the show. bukas yung celebration namin. okay lang. ready na ba tayo? (we'll have our celebration tomorrow. it's okay. are we ready?)" you all agreed and hurriedly made your way out of the venue. 

mikha spent the rest of the night trying to find you, not knowing you left from the back exit.

“god, mikhs. who the hell did you hook up with? you’ve been so out of it since you came back.” kyle commented, evidently noticing her friend’s odd behaviour. “i wish i knew, i literally don’t know what her name is. i feel like an idiot, i begged her, for fuck’s sake. i don’t beg.” she complained, taking another sip of her drinking, causing aiah to take it away. “okay, that’s enough for tonight. lasing ka na, uminom ka na ng tubig. (you’re already drunk, you should drink water now.)” mikha groaned at her but listened anyway.

“can you describe her?”

“ganda. pretty. cute. ganda. hot. pretty. gwapa. i don’t know,” she slurred, slamming her head down on the table dramatically. “whatever, i don’t even care.” she continued.

mikha got over you the next day, but slowly, a week went by and you still occasionally managed to cross her mind. she still wondered about who you were and unfortunately still wanted to see you again, but there were plenty of fish in the sea and you know, it wasn’t that serious.

– hope u enjoy..... @yumtooki :3

[soullessdianthus]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 | 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐱 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠)

Summary: During your stop at the abandoned building a shootout with the enemy begins. You cross your paths with injured König who needs your help.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏

A/N: I'm here to feed you all, because you asked so nicely. ♡ This part contains POV of the Reader and König's. Also, starring Gaz, he deserves more recognition! Y/C ━ Your Codename Poorly translated German ━ correct me if needed!

Warnings: dark humor, reader is eastern european coded, desc. of blood & injuries, mentions of unalived bodies, sexual pictures taken, perv!König?

Word count: 3.2k oops

The night had fallen quickly. Faster than one might have thought. During the sunset, when the crickets hidden in the tall grass were the only sound, the manhunt began. 

Task Force 141 and KorTac had to stay for the night at the abandoned factory of sorts, near the forest bordering the village and Austrian mountains – a fortress with many rooms, staircases, exits.

You were slowly getting ready for the confrontation with the terrorist group, the one you’ve been “tracking” for the last couple of days. You sat on the second floor, cleaning your M4 rifle while listening to another story of Gaz. Some of the KorTac soldiers were also following the Britishman's captivating telltales. It was then when you heard the first report of strangers passing by through the radio. Then you heard the shooting. 

Everything happened quickly, the situation was getting worse and progressing too fast. How could they sneak up on you like that? The enemy came to you first, this shouldn't have happened.

You stuck to Gaz as you gathered your weapons and began moving towards the staircase. The sounds of gunshots filled the building and the ground surrounding it. Your mind had to stay highly alert, focused on a few simple tasks – push forward, leave the factory and get to the cars. It seemed like there were too many enemy’s forces. 

Well, at least that's what you thought, so it was hard to estimate the numbers.

It wasn’t possible to count the time that had passed since you gathered your rifle and followed Gaz’s lead. With his help and the Captain's instructions you managed to get to the ground floor, two of KorTac soldiers joined you on the way.

Three bodies lay limp in a puddle of blood underneath them, corpse’s hand gripping their rifles tightly. You took a quick look at their vests, or rather lack of them, and only then you were sure.

━ He hired mercenaries. ━ You stated quietly to your companion, having in mind the man liable for the terrorist group, as Kyle carefully peeked through the closest corner. 

━ Cannon fodder. 

His harsh answer was followed by a dead silence. Even the crickets went quiet as something loomed in the air. 

━ Gaz, Y/C, still on the way? ━ Ghost’s voice called out for the two of you through the radio. 

━ Almost there, sir. ━ Dark skinned sergeant stated, having an eye on the meeting point ahead of him. 

Gaz would take the right side of the van, two KorTac soldiers would worry about the left, while you had an eye on your backs. Seemed easy, seemed to be a quick job. 

When all of you got closer to the vehicle, holding your weapons high and looking out for any danger, something rolled down on the ground. Almost like a metal bin got under the car’s chassis. 

━ Grenade! 

There was too little time to react. Your legs pushed off the ground with all of their strength, your body directed at the building. However, you weren’t fast enough. So were not your companions.

Explosion illuminated the area and the fire consumed the military van in its flames. The recoil threw you a few meters away from the place of outbreak, knocking the air out of your lungs.

The squeak. 

That fucking squeak. 

The agonizing sound was probably the only noise you could hear at the moment as you saw the tongues of fire dancing in the corner of your eye. Right then, your body was reacting and operating on its own. 

Some barely palpable thuds made you realize you lied with your cheek in the gravel and dirt. 

You didn’t know exactly when you grabbed the M4 into both hands or when you stood up on your shaking legs, slowly heading inside the building again. You cursed in your native language, when your head hurt like it would explode on its own. 

There was an exchange of bullets somewhere near you, but still, dazed you couldn’t precisely determine – where and how close.  You continued to run towards the building bent in half. 

Then suddenly you felt a strong grip tightening around your vest’s strap on the shoulder. A pull so powerful that made you turn around and fall onto the brick wall behind your back. 

━ Gaz? ━ You heard the ringing of your own voice, echoing inside of your eardrums. Wait, did you even say his name out loud? Maybe you just imagined you did?

When your back clung tightly against the cold wall (as much as it could, due to your gear), you tried to take a deep breath in. 

First, then the second one. A cold, night breeze filled your nose. Only then you felt like you finally could think clearly again. 

━ Stay close. We’re moving. ━ The strong accent helped you realize it was König who took you out of the ambush. Now that you knew that, everything made sense – the force he pulled you with? Yeah, the Austrian colonel was like a wild bear.  

Quickly you checked your rifle and reloaded it. Your head nodded towards the colonel and he began clearing the way to the nearby staircase. You were going up again, side by side with an Austrian soldier. Well, that probably wasn’t the image of you that your grandparents had in mind. 

You were supporting him from his behind, constantly checking the back. The adrenaline from the explosion made you feel painful tension in each limb. It felt like muscle sores after a rough day at the gym. Or sparring session with Ghost.

There was no option to go back and search for Gaz or two KorTac soldiers. If they survived the explosion, they probably escaped into the forest and were fine. Right?

With each powerful yet quiet step he took, another enemy’s soldier got terminated. With your help König cleared the pathway and led the two of you into a more secluded area. A room, your hideout.

You pushed some old, wooden furniture resembling a cabinet over the doors, so no one uninvited entered. You and the colonel had bored up to wait for the reinforcements. The hooded soldier took a peek through the cracked window as you squeezed the radio’s button.

━ Bravo 0-7, do you copy? 

Thankfully the silence didn’t last long.

━ Y/C ━ Ghost spoke through the radio. Only you knew that he was in distress, because of his voice. Him and Price probably heard the blast from the other part of the building. ━ Fuckin’ Christ, what was that?

━ They blew up the car. Gaz and I got separated near the tree line, I don’t know where he is. ━ You explained as simply as possible. Eventually your eyes noticed the drops of blood on the old floor. It was fresh. Were you bleeding? 

━ Where are you? 

Your boyfriend’s voice ripped you out of the deep thoughts. And at that point you understood that it wasn’t you, who was bleeding. 

━ In the left wing, second floor. Doors locked. Colonel König saved me from the fire. He’s with me.

Austrian man thanked the fucking heavens he had his face covered by the dark hood. Because the moment you called out his name, his heart skipped a beat. Your pretty eyes under the long eyelashes were locked on him. 

━ Stay there until we arrive. Over and out. 

When Ghost's voice vanished into thin air, there was a moment of silence between the two of you. He could feel how warm it got in there. Because it was a hot, summer night, right? 

━ You’re bleeding ━ you acknowledged, pointing his left thigh. ━ It’s your happy day, colonel. You got stuck with a medic. Sit down and let me see. 

Oh, it was a happy day for König for more than the reason he came across a medic while in need.

Because he came across you. 

━ I don’t think it’s an emergency, schatz. 

━ Your pants are soaked with blood. Let me see. 

You put down the weapon and reached out to grab his. He obediently gave you his rifle and sat down near the wall, slowly sliding on its surface. When the emotions began to cool down, his mind began to race. How could he let that happen? How could he, the king, let the bullet of some mercenary damage him? 

You kneeled next to the colonel and placed the “first-aid” bag on the floor. At first you tried to take a look at his wound, but a gap the size of a bullet was just too small. 

━ I have to slightly incise the pants, I can’t see th–

━ Ja, it’s okay. 

König said in a single breath, doing everything in his power not to stare at you for too long. But it was impossible. The way your hands gently inspected the wounded area. The same palms which not so long ago were squeezing the M4 rifle until the knuckles turned white. The same fingers that were holding a child so cautiously a few hours ago. 

You grabbed the material of his beige pants and slightly tore the opening. 

Unknowingly you tilted your head to the side, assessing the situation. König now knew that he was right. Your touch was as gentle as he had imagined it to be.

━ Hm, I won’t lie, this doesn’t look good ━ you retraced your hands from his leg and began preparing the essential tools. ━ The bullet didn’t hit the artery or veins, but it’s stuck in your muscle. I have to take it out and stop the bleeding, sir. 

━ It’s alright, I’m in the good hands, ärztin.

━ I don’t know what that mean, sir. ━ You confessed, a polite smile twisting your dusted cheeks, when you heard unknown German word.

Did he make you blush or was he dreaming? If the colonel was a believer, he would swear to the God he saw you blushing. 

━ A doctor. You’ll learn more German during our… ━ now it was him, searching the right word ━ cooperation, would you like that? 

His blue eyes roamed over your expressions, changing during the seconds passing by. It was bold of him to ask, too fucking bold perhaps. But he had you within his reach, right under his nose. He couldn’t let you slip so easily. 

━ That would be useful, thank you. Now, brace yourself. Take a breath in.

With a pair of gloves you dipped your pointing finger into the wound and scooped the bullet out in an impressive timing.  

━ Scheiße! ━ Colonel cursed, clenching his teeth. During his military career he got shot, burned, bones broken, skin cut, hurt too many times to count. Nonetheless, it hurt like a bitch each time he got his wounds patched. 

━ I know, I’m sorry, sir. I’m almost finishing. 

You took a brand new packaging of gauze and unwrapped it. Swiftly, you inserted the sterile material into the shallow wound with your slender fingers, until the crimson liquid stopped pouring all over his thigh and crotch. 

━ Don’t apologize, schatz. You’re doing a good job here. 

It was a second, less perhaps, but you looked up at the colonel when he praised your work. And under that hood? He had the smuggest grin ever. 

Finally, you tapped the outer side of his thigh, asking him to slightly raise the limb, so you could wrap a bandage around it. You leaned over his lap, two of your hands brushing against his massive legs. 

The voices, the fucking voices, made of him a real disrupted man. 

König had this impossibly stupid idea of sticking his head out just to get shot, so you could patch him up. You would be his favorite nurse and caretaker. If you happened to find yourself in his arms, we would never let you go. 

━ All done. There’s no need to cut the leg off, sir. ━ You jokingly said, leaning back on your knees. The dark humor and sarcastic jokes were your favorite. 

His thigh was bandaged, the bleeding stopped, but he needed a stiching, which you could not perform in the middle of a shooting scene. The big man will survive until then. 

━ Oh, that’s a good news, doctor. Thank you. 

His bright eyes loomed over your figure – neatly sitting on your own knees, clean hands (as you took the bloodied gloves off) resting on the thighs, head facing him. A single strand of your hair that slipped from the braid was stuck to your slightly sweaty forehead.

━ Come here ━ he told you, curling his pointing and middle finger in your direction. The gesture itself meant he wanted you to come closer. So you did, barely narrowing your brows. ━ You have soot all over your face. ━ His giant palm reached your cheek and rubbed the dust and dirt away.

König was used to most of his colleges, if not all of them, being much smaller than him. But it was the size difference between you and him that had his stomach curling with excitement. 

━ Danke [ger.: thanks].

━ Bitte [ger.: please]. 

The moment you two shared was interrupted by the loud steps coming towards the room you’ve been hiding. Without second thoughts, you helped the big bear stand up and handed him a rifle. You quickly pointed at the door and you waited. 

You sucked a breath in. Hold. 

━ Y/C! 

━ Here, sir! ━ You stated, releasing the air with a loud sigh. 

The familiar voice of Captain Price eased the tension. There was no need to continue fighting. Both you and König lowered the weapons and the colonel moved the cabinet aside allowing the team to open the doors.

And there was a group of your saviors – Price and lieutenant Riley at the front. Few soldiers in dark suits followed behind them.

Captain of TF 141 moved aside to allow you to leave the small, secluded area. All of you gathered in the corridor, before leaving the building. 

━ Thanks for saving our girl. ━ Price said in a lower tone to the colonel. To the Austrian man who outstanded everyone else in the room.  

━ We’re a team on this one, aren’t we? 

König’s blue eyes met the cold, death stare of lieutenant Riley. It didn’t sit right with Britishman that he was alone with her. With his girl. Simon didn’t care about the context of the situation, he had a childish problem with the colonel of KorTac himself. It was about his attitude towards you.

Perhaps you didn’t notice that and if you did, you saw nothing bad in König’s behavior. But the lieutenant did and it gave him weird feelings. 

━ Is Gaz okay? ━ You asked Ghost full of concerns, because Kyle wasn’t present with the rest of the team. 

━ Slightly cooked, but he’ll be fine. 

“Shit” you thought. First, there was a little accident involving Soap and broken ribs and now poor, smoked Gaz. Your teammates hadn’t have much luck lately. 

Perhaps, if not König saving your ass, you’d be wounded badly too. 

━ Medevac took care of him ━ Price meddled between you and lieutenant, wanting all of you to gather up and move. ━ We’re headin’ back to regroup, those bastards are gettin’ on my nerves. Also, Laswell’s on the line, waitin’ for report. 

His statement was followed by a quick ‘yes, sir’ and the group of survivors moved through the now secured area. König talked with one of his sergeants, trying to assess how many people he lost that day. 

Ghost was right behind you all this time, almost like a shadow you cast yourself. But you loved your grumpy shadow with your whole heart. 

Without any more issues you got to the untouched by the gunfire cars and left the abandoned factory behind. You took the last glimpse at the building and the lifeless bodies laying around the area through the vehicle’s window. 

It was ironic, as a medic you were supposed to save lives, not to end them. And yet, you were surrounded by bones and corpses. 

When you came back to the base – a part of the building KorTac company lent to Task Force 141, most of you were dismissed to get some rest before the departure at noon. But not the colonel of KorTac.

The Austrian man visited the doctor who stitched his wound up. Medic praised how well the bleeding was stopped, but König wasn’t surprised at all – he saw how skillful your hands were. 

Only if he could feel them on his skin again. Such delicate fingertips sneaking under his shirt, running over his muscles and old scars. But for now, it was only his imagination giving him the wrong ideas. 

You were taken, ja? It was wrong to want you for himself. 

After the stitching, he had to fill out some documents for his superiors – those on a computer and on paper. It wasn’t much, but it took around an hour or hour and a half. When he was finally done, König walked through the empty hallways towards his own quarters.

He locked the room from the inside and neatly put his combat shoes near the entrance. At least he could have some rest. Or so he thought. 

His phone’s screen illuminated the dark room as a notification popped up. The number was unknown. But the moment König tapped with his finger to read the message, he instantly knew who it was from.

His stomach dropped and his jaw slightly opened. The message was a picture with a signature saying “see, how well she’s taken care of?”. 

The photo was a visual of your bare upper half pressed against the masculine torso in the way that covered most of your breasts. Your hand was splayed over Ghost’s chest as his muscular arm hugged you from behind, pulling closer. In bed.

The frame did not catch the lieutenant's face at all, but it showed your flushed (or maybe rather: fucked out) face and eyes pressed shut. You still had the remains of dirt on your face, that’s why König  knew it’s a recent photo.

The Colonel could not help, but feel how his pants got uncomfortably tighter than before as he sat down on his bed. 

König felt the throbbing of his heartbeat in his ears and he pulled the hem of his hood over his nose. He had to breathe. “Take a deep breath, soldat” he kept telling himself.

But his hand unbuckled the belt and trousers on its own and when his heavy cock sprung free from its confinement, König knew there was no way he could stop now. 

He began to pump his fist fast, biting on his lower lip, blue eyes glued to the dirty picture of you on his phone. The Austrian man would never get rid of that photo. Never.

Oh, how he wished it was you who helped him calm down after such a mission. 

Ghost could never imagine that his text message would bring the opposite outcome of what he intended – to scare the colonel away.

It only fed König's delusions. 

TAG LIST: (apologies if I missed someone) @nijiru @squidsal @thefightingdragon @emily-roberts @btszn @ladymacbeth1987 @kingjulian0o9 @leonasbunny @bladedriot

A/N: Obviously the ending was heavily inspired by this imagine → | X |, although I planned it to be a picture before. I can't get enough of perv!König and protective!Ghost. OhmyLord~ Thank you for all your notes, reblogs and nice comments! It means a lot to me! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

[rampurrsszn]

Ghost meets Gaz’s newborn and she’s so teenie and he’s helping Gaz out since he’s a single dad.

She’s sleeping on his chest and he’s so in love he basically becomes her second dad right then and there. Gaz and Ghost have this weird coparenting situation where they’re too busy with her or work to actually sit down and have a conversation about their relationship.

Ghost moves in, they sleep in the same bed, call each other pet names, the baby refers to them as “pa” and “da”. They make love to each other sometimes and almost had another baby on the way before Soap sat them down and asked them when they’re getting married as a joke and they full on seriously said “we’re not even dating”

Soap made them have the talk that day. Gaz became Kyle Riley a couple of months later, and his daughter was officially adopted by Simon.

[the-californicationist]

Pas de Deux

For @glitterypirateduck's May 2024 Ghost challenge (item #100)!

I don't write Ghost, but I love Duck too much to pass it up. <3

You invited your brother, Kyle, to come and watch your performance as Odette in Swan Lake. He makes it to the theatre, but he brings his friends. That's when you fall head over heels for Simon Riley.

You’d begged your brother to come to your final performance. You needed him there, needed to feel him in the crowd, even if you couldn’t see him out there. Kyle promised he would be there, and as you went through your pre-show routine, you hoped he would be true to his word. 

You knew it was difficult for him to get away from work. You’d left him with four tickets, asking him to invite his mates, if that would make it easier. You remember seeing his soft smile as he fanned out the bright gold tickets, inwardly laughing at you for not understanding the contrast between your world and his as he commented,

“These blokes aren’t really keen on ballets, Duck.”

He’d always called you by that stupid nickname. Well, the longer version had been his favorite as a teenage boy: the Ugly Duckling. But, it was fine. You’d called him Vile instead of Kyle most of his life, so you felt like it was an even score. 

“It’s important to me,” you’d insisted. 

“I know,” he nodded, conceding, “I’ll try.”

So, as the lights were warming up and you were applying your third layer of powder, praying for a smooth night, your heart stretched itself out, begging not to be broken, the whining strings of the cellos and violins in the pit below your feet made the sounds that your heartstrings were feeling — too quiet, too off-key. 

“Hey, babe,” one of your fellow dancers hissed at you from behind the backstage door, “Why didn’t you tell us you had a hot brother with a bunch of hot friends?”

“What?” You asked, confused, shaken out of your mental focus.

Then, over her shoulder, you saw Kyle’s face. He beamed at you, giving you a little wave. You leapt up from the floor where you were stretching, not yet in full costume, wrapping yourself in a warm wool sweater, rushing to greet him.

“You came!” You smiled up at him, wrapping him in a big hug. He hugged you back, full of his immense strength. You stood back to get a better look at him. He was all dressed up, and you couldn’t believe it. Someone behind him cleared their throat, getting your attention. 

“Oh, right. Duck, these are my mates,” he pointed them out one by one, “Johnny MacTavish, John Price, and Simon Riley.”

When he pointed to the last one, you felt your breath catch in your throat. It felt as if he was the one who caught it. He was a tower of a man, and his broad, muscular shoulders dwarfed his big friends, making the dancers who were rushing by him back and forth to the stage seem so small. Unlike the other two, his face didn’t light up in a warm smile. His bright eyes simply took you in, drinking you like a long draught, swallowing every piece of you. He studied your makeup, your neck and your shoulders, all the way down your legs, scanning you like he would be given an exam. 

“Nice to meet you. Thank you so much for coming, seriously. I’ve been trying to get Kyle to show up for months.”

The stocky man with the beard smiled back at you warmly, 

“We love a good ballet, don’t we, lads?”

You didn’t miss the way his elbow jutted out to stab Simon in the ribs, prompting him to speak. 

When he did, his voice was quiet, and although he had a thick Manc accent, his tone was controlled, measured, even, 

“Aye. Big fans.”

“Oh, well,” you couldn’t stop staring at Simon, so you pinned your eyes to the floor instead, “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Drinks after, yeah?” Kyle said, rubbing your arm supportively.

You nodded, watching them head back to the main auditorium. 

A few friends, dancers and stagehands alike, rushed up to you as they left, gushing about how attractive they all were. 

“Who was that bloody blond giant? Dressed in all black. He was lookin’ at you like he was hungry.”

“I want the Scot with the mohawk. I’m not takin’ no for an answer, girlie. Oh, my God. Did you see his kilt?”

“Your brother is so damn fit! What the fuck, babes?”

“I liked the scruffy one the best. Bet that beard feels good between —”

“Okay! It’s almost showtime. Let’s circle up,” you escaped from the prop room, scurrying back onto the main stage, trying to get your head back in the game. 

You went through your warmups with your dancers, and you let your costumers fit you into your opening dress. You needed to think about your work, but you couldn’t get Simon’s sharp gaze out of your mind. He did, in fact, look hungry, and the way his eyes raked over you made you feel every bit like a hot meal. 

As the music began, your mind went blank, blissfully quiet and clear. Your muscle memory took over, and you powered through the motions, enjoying the feeling of your blood rushing through your veins. You trusted yourself to get you through the first act, hitting all of your marks and expecting nothing less than perfection. 

It wasn’t until you put on the black mask for Odile’s dance with the prince that you began to lose your concentration. There was a wildness that took over you when you played the black swan, a ferocity that your studio director gushed about to the press and to anyone else who cared to listen. 

“She’s like an animal! It’s to die for. You must come and see her on stage. It will change this ballet forever!” 

You weren’t sure you appreciated being referred to as an animal, but you had to admit that there was something beastial about your transformation. The mask made you feel like you were a new person. It gave you the ability to become someone else, something else. You were sexual and aggressive, dominant and fearsome. It was just what Odile needed, and you delivered. 

Except, when you put the mask on tonight, you caught a glimpse of him from backstage. He was sitting in the box that you had bought for your brother, and one of the spotlights’ films had lit his cheek. It was a soft light, but it was enough. As you took your first steps on stage, you couldn’t help but look up towards him, and the flash of hunger in his eyes was still there. So, you decided to give him your animalistic side. 

You’d never danced the way you danced that night. The crowd was roaring, and your costar whispered to you,

“Go off, queen. What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered back, lying through your teeth. 

By the time you left the stage, daring to look back over your shoulder, Simon hadn’t taken his eyes off of you for one moment, and his nostrils flared, breathing deeply, trying to calm himself from your display. 

Before you knew it, the curtains closed, and you were bowing, dodging thrown roses and teddy bears, elegantly taking your leave. Your body was dripping sweat, and you rushed over to your bag, scarfing down some power gels and cracking open a nutrition bar, hurrying to bring your body back to normal after its ordeal. You’d be expected to pose for some VIP photos in just a few minutes, so you touched up your makeup, but there was only so much you could do. 

“My star!” Your director burst through the back door, “Beautiful! You were incredible tonight. Bring your masks. I have some people who want to meet you.”

You nodded, scooping up your masks and giving your bag to one of the other dancers to take back to the barre room. 

You schmoozed for a bit, but something itched at the back of your mind. You felt like you were being watched. Then, just while you were taking a photo with someone’s eager six-year-old, you spotted him. Simon stood behind Kyle, staring at you without shame while the other men laughed and joked with a gaggle of dancers. They had swarmed them, fluttering about, insisting to be invited for drinks, and Kyle was eating it up. You didn’t care, though. There was only one thing you wanted — aside from a hot bath and your comfy bed — and that was to enjoy those things with Simon Riley, if he agreed. 

“Excuse me, Madame Savoie. I’m exhausted, and my brother is in town. May I take my leave for the night?”

“Of course!” Your director beamed at you, “After that performance, you can take whatever you want.”

She laughed. Her rich friends laughed. You didn’t, but you managed a smile. 

You made your way through the crowd over to Kyle and broke the news, 

“Kyle, I’m not going to make it to the pub. I’m beat. I think I’ll just walk home.”

“You can’t walk home by yourself, Duckie. You live in bloody Soho.”

“I’ll be alright. I’ll just —”

“I’ll take her,” that Manc accent oozed its way through the din, and almost everyone turned to look at Simon as he offered his services. 

Kyle made a face at you, his arms wrapped around two dancers, one on each side, and he shrugged, 

“Alright, Duck. Tomorrow for breakfast, though. No excuses.” 

You watched as your brother untangled his right arm from one of your swans, and stuck out his hand for Simon to shake. You saw Simon pause, making clear eye contact with your brother, and extending his wide, pale hand. 

You weren’t exactly sure what weird sort of ritual you were witnessing, but it seemed like the two men had an entire conversation in just that short span. Then, Simon’s attention was turned fully back to you. 

“C’mon, then. I just need to get my bag.”

He didn’t say anything, but he did hold the door for you, and his huge stature did help part the crowd like some sort of biblical sea, making sure you had easy access to the exits. 

The barre room was a bright, white open space, and the wooden floors popped and creaked as you walked across them. 

Your impromptu bodyguard followed close behind, but he paused near the door when he was presented with the huge room.

“I’d hate to meet that ballerina,” he chuckled. 

You turned around, confused by his comment, 

“Which one?”

“The one who hit her head on the ceiling to make them build it this bloody high.”

You looked up to where he was pointing, laughing at his odd joke,

“It’s for the piano,” you explained. 

“That’s even scarier,” he grimaced, staring up at the high ceiling as if pianos would start falling from it. 

You laughed harder, then, imagining a flying baby grand. 

“No! No,” you caught your breath, “The sound. It helps us hear the music.”

“Ahh,” he nodded knowingly, conceding to you, “I see. That makes me feel safer.”

You knelt down and started to pack your back, changing your shoes and slipping out of your outer costume, laying the pieces out like you had been trained to do.

“So, which one do you like better?”

“Hm?” You looked up at him, and he bent his knees to squat down in front of you, plucking your white swan mask out of your bag and touching the fine silk bow with his thumb. 

“Which swan?” He asked, his eyes staring at you carefully. You got the sense that your answer really mattered to him.

“Well,” you said carefully, “Every girl wants to be Odette. She’s the star. It’s her story. And she gets to fall in love with a prince. But… once you play Odile, I think you realize that there’s… well, there’s something to be said for falling in love with yourself, too.”

You smiled, grabbing your black mask by the nose and holding it up to your eyes, glaring at him to make your point. 

“Same person on the inside, though,” he commented, looking down at the white mask in his hand. 

You stood up, and you grabbed his hand to help him up, 

“C’mere. I’ll show you.”

“You’re not going to find a tutu that fits me, love.”

“No tutus for you, I promise. Just… stand here. Like that. Put your hand out like this. Good.”

Once he was in position, you grabbed the white mask from him and tied it around your face, willing your sore body back into position. 

“This is Odette,” you said, making your hands and feet flutter to life. You spun into his hand, letting him feel the weightlessness of your body as you moved against him, the soft silken rustle of your leotard against his huge, callused hand. Eventually, you came to rest facing away from him, your thigh brushing his hip in a long, extended arabesque. His hand never moved from your waist, and you leaned into it, letting him balance you, his palm warm against your belly through the thin fabric. 

“And this…” you replaced the white mask with the black one, changing yourself for him, metamorphosing right before his eyes, “...is Odile.”

This time, you challenged him, making him feel your muscles and bones with each spin, pushing against him like a threat. You could feel his uncertainty, but he naturally steeled himself, grabbing you with more power, trying to harness your energy. But, you knew he couldn’t. He didn’t know what do to. All he could do was stand there and feel you as you moved against him, aggressive and virulent. 

As Odile, your final arabesque pressed into him lustfully, translating that fiery rage, your thigh slammed flush with his body, your hips forcing his hand to grip you to keep you from pushing him backwards. 

Then, you stepped away, removing the mask and doing a little bow for effect. 

“I see,” he murmured, seemingly unphased. But, even though he tried to hide it, his slight adjustment in his black dress pants did not slip by you. He stalked closer to you, closing the space that you had opened. His thumb came up to rub your cheek, right at the edge of the black mask, “Does the mask help?”

You dropped your volume to match his, still catching your breath a bit from the turns, 

“Yeah, it reminds me that I can be someone I’m not.”

“Or maybe you can finally be someone you are,” his thumb traced your smooth skin down to your mouth where your lipstick stains and cracked powder were surely a right mess. But, he didn’t care. He pressed the pad of his finger to your bottom lip anyway, moving so carefully and deliberately you felt like you were under his spell. 

“Maybe.” 

“Hm,” he said noncommittally, backing away from you, releasing you from his invisible hold. 

You finished packing, and you made your way into the dark night with him, walking quickly to get out of the spitting rain. He kept his arm around you, wrapping you in his warmth, shielding you from passersby. 

Your mind was racing. You had taken this stranger home with you, no questions asked. It was a risk that you just didn’t take. When was the last time you even had a bloke in your flat, much less one that you desperately wanted to snog? At least you had cleaned yesterday. It was too small of a place not to pick up at least a little bit each day. There was no room for you to be messy. 

“This is me,” you jingled your keys and pointed up to the tall, modern apartment building, gleaming in glass and steel amidst the historical Soho houses and businesses. 

Every floor was the same. It was all modern and white, almost sterile. You felt like you lived in a museum. 

“Mm, posh,” he commented, a little disgruntled. 

“Free,” you rolled your eyes, “The ballet company houses all of us here.”

“Why can’t my free accommodations ever look this good?”

You cracked open the door to your flat and let him inside. Your cat, Mustard, immediately began her figure-eight dance between his legs, her favorite hello to every person who dared enter her domain. 

“What do your accommodations usually look like, then?” You asked, pouring out some kibble for the cat and hanging your bag on its hook.

“Usually a tent, sometimes a cave. They even gave us a house once, no windows in it, but hey. You win some, you lose some.”

“I worry about Kyle, you know. You lads don’t have an easy job.”

“He’ll be alright. He’s a good one.”

“I know,” you smiled softly, staring up into Simon’s eyes, then you remembered your manners, “Can I get you a drink?”

“No, I’m alright,” he smiled back, turning his head to look around your flat. 

You gave him the short tour,

“Bathroom’s in there, and here’s my bedroom slash office slash den… Only enough room for the bed, really. I’m not here very much.”

“And…” He spoke slowly, carefully, no joviality in his tone this time, “Is it alright that I’m here, love?”

He eyed you cautiously, moving toward you, towering over your small frame, his hulking shoulders curling in on you, casting dark shadows across your vision, keeping you from the light. 

You peered up at him, ignoring his question,

“Do you want to shower with me? I’d fucking murder someone for a hot shower.”

“Yeah,” he said softly, bending forward so that he could press his soft lips to your mouth, kissing you as gently as you’d ever been kissed. But, you could tell, just by the way he moved his jaw, letting his tongue lazily trace your bottom lip, there was so much more fervor under his skin, waiting to be unleashed. Right now, he was Odette, on his best behavior. 

But, you wanted to see his Black Swan. Where was the beast that you knew must lurk within?

He pulled away from you, smiling a bit, and you giggled softly, dragging him along by his wrist, ducking into your spacious bathroom. It was the one thing you loved about this place. There was no living room to speak of, but damn if the bathroom wasn’t perfect. The huge glass shower was enough for a party of four, and the dual shower heads made you feel like some sort of royalty. You couldn’t wait to let your muscles soak under the cascade. Maybe tall, blond and handsome could put those strong hands of his to work and rub you down. 

You stood in the mirror together, looking at each other, and you started to undress. He twisted a finger under the collar of your sweater until he could feel your skin. Then, he slipped it off of your shoulder. You dropped your arm, letting it slide to the floor. Then, as slowly as he could, you watched as he writhed his finger under your leotard’s strap, pulling it down your arm. When it got to be too taut, you helped him, removing your arms and rolling the soft nylon down your aching body. 

Your wig was still on, but you weren’t about to wear it to bed, so you took it off in front of him, running your fingers through your short curls, letting your close-cut fingernails scratch your scalp.

Now, as you stood in the low light of your bathroom mirror, you were naked in front of him, standing with your back to him, covering your breasts in the mirror. Simon bent his head down so he could kiss your neck, and you felt him wrap a big hand around the nape of your neck, holding you in place. His kisses felt hot, and they were deeper than before, more hungry, pressing into you with more power. 

You sighed, enjoying his mouth as it worked on you, but well-aware of just how caked on the sweat and the makeup were after a show, making excuses for yourself,

“I’m sweaty,” you whispered.

“I know,” he smiled, sticking out his fat, pink tongue and licking his way up to your ear, just to make his point. 

He wrapped his arms around you, retreating for a moment, looking at you in the mirror. Then, when he saw you covering yourself, he gently pushed your arms away, making you reveal your bare breasts to him. 

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he praised you, kissing your scalp chastely. 

You turned your back to the looking glass to face him, and you tangled your fingers between the buttons of his dress shirt. You weren’t in any hurry to peel him apart, but as you did, you saw more and more evidence of his hard life. His enormous muscles were inked with old tattoos, war scenes etched into his creamy flesh in black and gray. But, carved across his skin were tens of deep, jagged scars, standing as proof of the cruelty he’d endured. 

You let your mouth fall to his chest, kissing him indiscriminately, licking when you wanted to, nibbling when you wanted to, giving in to your hedonism fully. 

He untucked his shirt for you, peeling it off of his shoulders, and you watched as his muscles rippled and bent around his bones, stretching under his will. You worked on his belt, and he watched you take him apart, both of your heads craned down, staring at your hands as you freed him from his trousers. The zipper fell smoothly, and all that was left were his boxer briefs, underneath which hung a very girthy cock. 

You touched him through the fabric, and he let out a shuddering sigh of relief. 

“You’re a big man, Mr. Riley,” you teased, playing with his head through the thin fabric, meeting his gaze and finding him fully unraveled. His eyes were hooded and lustful, and it made you wonder how he liked to be touched so you could keep him like this, under your spell.

He tucked his thumbs in his pants and pulled them down, bare with you, and he held your body flush to his in a warm hug. You could feel his cock trapped between you, wet and warm on your belly, and his big hands came down to grab two handfuls of your ass, prying you apart so that the cold air of the room would hit your pussy and tell you how wet you were, enjoying the feel of your meat between his fingers. 

“Good thing you’ve got a bloody big shower, love. Might actually be able to stand under the tap, me. Can’t believe it.”

You watched him step into the large glass box and turn on the stream, the heat making him sigh. You joined him, jealous of the feeling, and let your own shower head beat your muscles into submission. 

You hissed in pain and he heard it, snapping his attention to you like a dog with a bone.

“What is it?”

“Sore. End of the week is hard.”

He poured some of your soap into his hand, way too much, but you didn’t correct him, and he commented as he bathed you,

“I read about it before we came, you know. Read about the story. About what you have to do to be the star. Hard work, that.”

“There are harder things,” You said in a low voice, tracing a particularly suspicious-looking wound in the shape of a bullet on his right hip.  

“Not many. Turn around,” he commanded. You were pleasantly surprised how much you liked it when he took control. 

Here, in the warm nest of the shower, you gave him your weakness and let him take care of you. He massaged your shoulders and your back unprompted, rubbing slick suds all over your skin, and he washed your hair. You moisturized on your own, letting him smell all of your tonics and potions, washing your face as he fondled your ass again, enjoying you fully. 

You felt like time had stopped. 

You washed him, letting your hands roam, caring for him as he had cared for you, and when you were both clean, you couldn’t help but linger on each other a bit. He reached between your legs and explored you for a moment, swiping his huge finger through your curls. When he found your warmth, so different from the steam of the shower, and a different wetness, too, he sighed. 

“Is it alright if I stay the night?” He asked. 

It surprised you. You assumed that getting naked and showering in front of a man who would be immediately boxed up and shipped back to Khandor on the next flight out would have stayed without asking. He would have assumed that his presence was his invitation. 

You nodded, 

“Please stay, Simon.”

He touched your breast, plucking at your nipple softly, seeming like he was uncertain despite your answer. You pried,

“Are you worried about Kyle? Did he say something —”

“No,” Simon smiled, “He knows you’re a big girl. It’s just been awhile… for me.”

“If you want to go…” You let your hands spread wide across his chest, purposely avoiding his cock, not wanting to sway him in a covinous way. 

He shook his head,

“No. I just want you to be sure. I can’t… We leave again, and I can’t make promises.”

“No promises. I know what you do. I know who you are because I know who Kyle is. You aren’t misleading me here, Simon. But, if you don’t take me to bed, I might lose my bloody mind.”

The smile that spread across his face then was a true one. It couldn’t hide. It squeezed his cheeks up into his eyes and wrinkled their edges like a paper fan. His full lips pulled tight across those white teeth, his incisors long like fangs and just as sharp. And he blushed, that pale skin giving away his feelings to you. 

He kissed your forehead and turned off the taps, retrieving two towels and bundling you in one, on your way back to bed, you snatched your lotion and started to put it on in a half-assed way, hurrying for his benefit. 

“Hey, stealin’ my duties?”

Simon plucked the lotion out of your head and nodded to the bed. You lay down for him, waiting for what he had in store. He pumped the lotion into his hand, less this time, you noticed, and began at your thighs. His wide palms rubbed and massaged you until he had covered you, paying attention to your hands and feet, before commanding you again:

“Flip over, love.”

You gladly did, sighing and moaning shamelessly as he rubbed lotion all over your back and legs. When he got to your round, plump ass, he took more of his time. 

“Watchin’ you move up there on that stage, tryin’ to seduce the bloody prince, fuck… it made me feel like you were dancing for me. The way you move… your body… I’ve never seen anythin’ like it.”

“I was,” you confessed. 

“What?” He stopped massaging you, putting the lotion on your table and crawling into the bed with you. 

You waited until you were under the covers with your head firmly planted on his chest before admitting it to him, 

“I was dancing for you tonight. When I saw you with my brother… you were all I could think about. I could see you in the box, when I was Odile, and I wanted you to look at me.”

“I couldn’t stop looking at you.”

You weren’t sure who kissed who, but you were now trapped within each other, sucking at each others’ mouths, moaning and writhing in each others’ arms. Snogging like you were dying. 

His cock was already hard, but you felt its smooth, silky body pressing and throbbing against your belly as he held you close, hungry for your wet hole, eager to be the one to fill it. 

You let your hand fall between you, jerking him off, rubbing slick circles around his head until he had to break your kiss to cry out for you. You raised your leg over his hip and moved to put him inside you, but he shook his head and started chanting in short, breathless whispers,

“Wait, wait, wait…”

Then, he disappeared, leaving you at the top of the duvet alone, licking and sucking his way down your body until he reached your pussy. As he began to eat you, he also spread you apart. You’d never felt so exposed before, but he wanted to lick your petals, slurping them into his mouth like the lobes of a sweet orange, one by one devouring you in your sensitive state. 

Your hands scratched at his scalp, which he seemed to enjoy. You watched his eyes flutter with pleasure after a particularly vigorous passthrough. 

“Taste so fuckin’ good. Gimme that come, baby,” he growled, gently circling your entrance with two thick fingers before fitting them into you with a wet, slick sound. 

“Oh!” You called out, staring down at him as he planted his mouth over your clit, suckling at its swollen body, razing your nerves to ashes. 

It didn’t take long before he had you coming for him, and when he felt you tense up beneath his hands, that true smile was back. He sat up on his knees and helped you come back down, slowing his movements just enough to calm your breathing, but keeping you precariously balanced on the edge where he wanted you. 

“Turn over on your belly, love.”

For some reason, it made you feel incredibly vulnerable to have him behind you, and your body shivered from the tension. He noticed, and he lay himself over you, soothing you, whispering right into your ear,

“I’ve got you, love. You wanna stop, we’ll stop. No problem. That clear?”

You nodded your head, and he met your eyes, making damn sure. Then, satisfied, you heard him digging around in his discarded dress pants, the crinkle of the foil condom, and then the slick roll of the barrier slipping over his head. 

“Thank fuck for condoms,” he laughed, “Might give me a chance to last more than a few minutes in this pretty fuckin’ cunt.”

You laughed with him, shrugging,

“You come, we try again. I’m not bothered.”

“Mm,” he nuzzled your ear, laying his body over yours and letting you feel his weight. His cockhead was tickling your entrance, but he didn’t go any further, saying, “This must be my white swan I have beneath me. Sweet on me, huh?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, reeling from the sensation of his tip rolling around your hole’s entrance, desperately grinding for more. 

“What would the black swan say to me, huh?”

You looked over your shoulder at him, meeting his eyes, and just like you had in the barre room, you showed him your other side. When he saw the flash in your eyes of your wildness, he knew he’d gotten his wish. You shoved your hips down, spearing yourself onto him before he was ready for you, making him gasp as your pussy slaked over the first few inches of his cock. 

“Give me your cock, Simon.”

He recovered, biting his lip and thrusting into you, stuffing himself inside of you deeper and deeper, 

“There she is. My girl…”

The power that he used to fuck you was beyond anything that any other man had dared give you. You didn’t know this was a possibility. Your whole body was trapped beneath him, being kissed and crushed and fucked into a wet, submissive mess. His arms were planted beside you, pinning you in, and honestly, you had never felt so safe. 

You could smell your coconut body wash on him, mixing with whatever it was that made him a man, musky and dark, a hint of his Camel Blues. You wanted to bathe in him, just as he had washed you with his hands. Instead of soap, you wanted it to be him, smearing himself all over you, caking you in his essence. 

“Fuck, you are so tight. Squeezin’ me. Fuck…”

He was off of you in a flash, and before you knew it, he’d flipped you over. He spread open your legs and played with you for a moment, trying to stop himself from coming. His cock was in his other hand like a vice, and you watched him struggle with no small sense of pride. 

You decided it was your turn to lead this dance, and you sat up, kissing him full on the mouth, letting your tongue loll against his, sensuous and warm. Then, you wrapped your knees around him and shoved him back toward the foot of the bed, riding him down. When you caught your balance, you reached behind you to feed him into your pussy again, pressing into him with your weight. 

“Wait! Oh, fuckin’ hell.”

Simon’s hands went to your hips and then immediately to cover his mouth, stopping himself from gasping from the sensation. You ignored him, bucking against his huge cock, discovering you could take him even deeper. As you began to grind against him, you let your hands play in your folds, vibrating your clit and driving yourself wild. Your other hand went to his balls, rolling them gently in your hands behind your back.

“Ungh… You are gonna make me come, love.”

As soon as you heard his confession, you released him from your hand and paused at the top of your thrust, hovering on his tip in midair, teasing him ruthlessly. 

“Oh… you —” Simon never finished his sentence because he grabbed you around your hips and dropped you back to the bed, prowling over you and huffing like a stuck bull. You were laughing in gasping breaths from the shock of his strength, and you almost missed the moment when he began to press his swollen rod back inside of you, spearing you mercilessly. 

You whimpered, wrapping your hands around his neck like a lifeline.

“Mmm,” he purred proudly, “She needs me, now. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, letting him kiss you languidly with soft, pliant lips.

“Needs me like this, huh? Tell me.”

“I need you, Si—”

“Tell. Me.”

“I need you so bad! Please, please… fuck me like this. Fuck —”

He covered your mouth with his own and chased down your orgasm like a thief, watching as your eyes got wide, pulling away so he could hear you keen. 

“Yes, yes, yes…” He chanted in your face, not moving away for a second, unwilling to miss even one moment of it. 

“Simon…” You whined, feeling the shock of your release and the afterburn of your pleasure as it flooded through your core, messy and salacious. 

“Feel so good, baby,” he was barely speaking above a whisper, sounding like he was drunk, struggling to keep his rhythm.

“You gonna come in me?”

Hope and bliss flashed across his face, and he kissed you again, pressing his nose right beside your nose and muttering into your mouth, 

“Fuck yes, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

As he came, he held his breath, locked, frozen in time, his eyes wrenched shut and his mouth wide open in a silent scream. You held his head in your arms, keeping him close to you, keeping him safe like he had kept you.

When he finally took a breath, it was ragged and gravelly. He panted like a tired hound, sucking in air and leaning against you to recover. For a while, you just lay together, his big body draped over yours, healing in you, using your wet come as a salve. 

Then, he slipped away, leaving you bereft at the loss. 

He pulled you into his arms, making sure you were covered and warm in your bed, finding your eyes and kissing your cheek, wordlessly thanking you for what he had done to you.

“Do you want me to go?” He whispered, his eyes closed as if he couldn’t face the answer.

“Please, stay. Don’t leave me, Simon. Not yet.”

“C’mere,” he sighed, curling his body around yours, securing you in his arms, breathing with you until you both tumbled into a deep, dark sleep.

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