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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 1 year ago

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Reign down on me - Part 3

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, abandonment

-🐺-

When the three of you left Price’s office, you were still marvelling at your collar. Your hands couldn’t leave the leather alone, stroking it and rubbing your fingers over the ridges of the ‘141’ stamp that graced the side of your neck. It had you smiling even despite the nagging feeling that everything was going to go away; that there was a rug just ready and waiting to be pulled just when you were going to get excited about your future with the team.

You were still holding your new handler tag between your fingers when you finally laid eyes on your Sergeants. They were hanging off the sofa in the break room, shouting and laughing as they furiously tapped at the remotes in their hands and shoved at each other like wild animals. You widened your eyes at the display, watching curiously as the man on the screen in front of them warned that they were running out of time.

“Oi, you two! Pack it in, lads!”

The men immediately put the controllers down and stopped the loud music from blaring out of the TV. They bashfully faced your small group, looking from where Price had shouted and inevitably to you.

Gaz seemed to recognise you right away, his face lit up when he caught your eyes, but Soap didn’t give much away. His lips stayed firmly shut into a cheeky smile and his eyes roamed all about you, eventually catching on the shiny new collar around your neck. Gaz saw it too.

“Good to see you again,” Gaz smiled, nodding his head in greeting. “Reppin’ the team as well - nice.”

You froze for a second, not really used to having someone remember you nevermind say it was good to see you again. Though you soon let your hands drop to your sides and nodded, offering a weak smile.

“Thanks, Sergeant Garrick,” you replied, erring on the side of over-politeness.

“Pft, don’t sergeant Garrick me again, you’re on the team now, it’s Gaz or Kyle, ok?”

Your ears raised in surprise. If you’d tried to call Sergeant Maddox by his nickname you’d have had your back flayed. Though when you thought back to it, Gaz had made a face everytime you addressed him before - he’d even tried to correct you and insist on Gaz a couple times. You’d decided in the past that it seemed like a ruse to make you step out of line, though now you realised he probably did just prefer his nickname.

“Alright, Gaz. Nice to meet you too…Sergeant MacTavish?” You said unsure, trying to gauge if ‘Soap’ would prefer his title or his nickname.

“Soap’ll do fine for me, furball.” He snorted, face cracking into a big grin.

Furball would not do for you. You felt your ears drop and had to will yourself with everything you had not to let loose a growl. It mustn’t have been enough to completely hide your displeasure. Ghost put his hand on your shoulder, forcing a flinch out of you yet again, and squeezed. Whether it was meant to be threatening or reassuring, you weren’t sure, but either way you untensed your body and sighed out the rest of your annoyance.

“Behave, Soap,” Ghost tutted.

“What? I’m just being my charmin’ self.”

“Be someone else for five minutes,” Ghost snarked.

“That desperate to hear my impression of you again, LT?”

“Maybe later, Soap,” Price said briskly. “There’s work to be done. Now that everyone’s on site, we can head over to the training I've set up for the day and we can get stuck in. You boys ready to head out?”

Soap and Gaz nodded, picking up their jackets from where they’d been strewn across the couch and got ready to move. You geared up to follow them, but Ghost put his arm out like security barrier, sending you into a surprised stop as you walked into him with an ‘oof’.

“We’re gonna pick up your new boots first, Pup,” Ghost explained, his eyes twinkling when you tilted your head up at him. “We’ll catch up with em’ in a minute.”

“Pup?” Gaz repeated.

He’d stopped in his tracks as he heard that. From your periphery you could see his eyebrows raise.

You felt your cheeks heat up like tiny furnaces and continued to avoid his eyes, simmering in your own embarrassment. It hadn’t occurred to you that Price hadn’t picked up on it, but now that Garrick had, you felt the full flush of embarrassment hit you in a fiery torrent. Just great, the new team are gonna pick up on Ghost’s babying and have a field day with it, you thought dourly.

“Yes?” you said cautiously, waiting for the jeering snipes to begin.

“Do you want us to call you that now?”

Fuck off.

Get Fucked.

Why don’t I call you that?

Those are the responses that your invaluable years of being taunted within an inch of your sanity suppress. Instead you shrugged lamely, forcing your body to relax and your fangs to unsnarl.

“Call me whatever you want,” you grunted, leaving out the silent ‘most people do’.

You braved a glance over at him and watched as his eyebrows twitched upward. There was a distinct lack of mocking grin and on top of that, he didn’t hit out with a rebuttal. He just tilted his head at you and averted his eyes, silently going off in the same direction that Soap and Price had and letting the door whoosh shut behind him.

“Gaz was just bein’ polite, Pup,” Ghost sighed, squeezing your shoulder once again.

“What?”

“He wasn’t trying to make fun of you. He was just figuring out how to address you.”

You looked back up at Ghost and frowned, feeling your brows sink heavily over your eyes. Was he in your head or something? You folded your arms over each other and huffed out a breath, already irritated that Ghost had been the cause of the situation in the first place with all his coddling and cooing.

“Never said he was,” you answered defensively.

“Your attitude gave you away, darlin’.”

You knew then that under his mask, Ghost’s eyebrows would be drawn upward, enhancing his knowing stare underneath that dark mask of his. It sent your heart hammering and your fizzling mood freezing out with a small dying gasp. You wondered what your punishment for said ‘attitude’ would be.

“Sorry, Sir,” you murmured, feeling your slanted tail awkwardly tuck in between your legs. “Won’t happen again, sorry for speaking to you out of turn.”

Suddenly the collar round your neck felt tighter and the cool tags burned your goosebumping skin. The weight of it felt impossible now that it was tying you to Ghost, now that you knew that you were supposed to be performing to a standard that fit a man like him. You were supposed to compliment him, not embarrass him with your silly antics.

“Hey, you’re fine, alright? I’m not angry with you. I only mention it because I don’t want you to think he’s like those men that were on your old base,” he said gently.

You curled your hands into fists by your sides, willing them to stop shaking now that Ghost was watching you closely. His eyes followed the movement and you gulped, not quite sure how to respond. You’d have had your ass kicked for speaking like that to anyone on your old base, nevermind whoever your current handler was at the time. Now Ghost was telling you he wasn’t mad and looking at you with those big stupid eyes of his.

“Honestly, you’re not in trouble,” he sighed, reaching out and stroking a hand over your head. “If it helps, I can stop calling you pup if you don’t like it?”

“No, that’s alright,” you said a little too quickly.

“You sure?”

You nodded, not wanting to embarrass yourself any further by squeaking out anything else. Or perhaps even admitting that you liked it - that it made you feel safe, like his. It felt like Ghost cared for you on a level no one ever had before, following his kind words with kind actions.

How could you willingly let go of that?

-🐺-

Your parents had already taught you that being cared about was not a luxury that most hybrids were afforded. You remembered what it was like being dropped off at Branhaven that first day, that memory haunted you in almost every nightmare you ever had. You’d been so sure that they meant what they said when they wanted the best for you. It only stung all the more years later knowing that everything they said was just a lie designed to cut you off like a limb gone badly necrotic.

They’d taken you out on a car ride, just you by yourself, and you’d been so excited to begin with. Your little tail wagged so hard even despite being pressed harshly into the stiff leather seats. They never usually took you anywhere alone, it seemed like such a special day at first - Your brother and sister always got fun trips and you always got dropped off at your grandmas and plopped in front of the TV for the day. Now your parents had done the opposite.

It was finally your turn to have a day with them. Or so you’d naively thought. Too young at the tender age of ten to figure out that something out of the ordinary was never a good sign.

They’d been so smiley though, giving each other happy looks as they drove far far away from your little home town, humming along to the radio even. It would never have crossed your mind that that day was going to mark the change of everything. They’d even stopped at McDonalds and bought you a happy meal and let you choose a milkshake to wash it down with. That never happened, you’d only ever gotten to jealously watch on as your brother and sister got nice things like that. It was too good a score to stop and think anything bad about.

But then reality hit after a few more hours on the road. They stopped the car outside of what you thought was a toll booth which presided over a big ugly grey building in the shape of one of your brother’s play block towers. That’s when it occurred to you that maybe you weren’t going somewhere fun, maybe you were facing something of the opposite nature. It didn’t help that the man at the ‘toll booth’ said that your parents were expected, that they were pleasantly on time for their appointment.

“Um…why did we stop here?” you’d asked, your voice squeaking out so timidly as you tried not to upset them.

They never liked it when you talked too much or asked too many questions. Behaviour like that was often met with sighing and temple rubbing and ‘would you just be quiet?’. Though you couldn’t contain yourself then as you looked at the facility in front of you, frowning as you caught sight of a crying kid being dragged through the big metal gates, throwing themselves against the fence in hopes to try and cling onto something and not be lead into the building within.

Was it a doctors office maybe? Some kind of specialist you had to see now that you were a growing hybrid on the edge of…what was the word again? Puberty?

“Well kiddo, we’ve had a tough decision to make,” Your dad had said, placing his big hands over your mum’s.

You tilted your head when you noticed that she was avoiding looking at you. Suddenly they weren’t smiling anymore either. The car felt very stuffy all of a sudden, the smell of the fat and salt from the Mcdonalds was clogging thickly in the air.

“What tough decision?” you asked, feeling your ears slowly pin against your head.

“Well…as you know you were a- a shock to your mother and I. We never thought in a million years we’d have a hybrid child, never knew the- the DNA was in us,” your dad had said, saying that dreaded DNA word in the same annoyed hiss he always did. “And we’ve never been prepared for the reality of it, the challenges that come with having a kid that’s…different. As you get older, that’s only gonna get more challenging for us. You’re going to become aggressive, and you’re going to have mood swings and you’re going to be difficult to control - it's just the way of hybrid kids.”

“You’re going to be a danger to your brother and sister,” your mum said, still refusing to look over at you, instead keeping her sights pinned on the entrance to the building. “To us.”

“Yes, and then what can happen is that you start wandering off, going out and getting into all sorts of trouble like those awful stories you hear on the news. You could get involved with gangs, you could hurt other people and go feral, you could do all sorts of damage and then the police would be forced to hurt you, maybe even kill you if you became a real danger. And you don’t want any of that do you?”

You frowned. Of course not! You shuddered to think that you would ever hurt someone, you’d always been the exact opposite of everything they'd just described. You were a pushover. You were kind to a fault, always trying to get on people’s good side on the off chance that you might receive a shred of their kindness. You’d never dream of being aggressive or of hurting any of your family.

“No, I don’t want that!” you agreed, searching your dad’s eyes and looking for him to acknowledge your plea.

You wanted him to know that you weren’t like that. You hoped he knew that you’d never ever want to hurt him in a million years, he was your dad, you loved him endlessly. Even when he barely showed you an ounce of his own love in the meagre years you’d been alive, you would do anything to show him that you weren’t like those other hybrids. You were theirs, you had their DNA, even if yours had wolf in it, you didn’t think that mattered.

“We know you don’t want that,” your dad said sympathetically, his voice dramatically pitching as he showed his ‘understanding’. “That’s why we’ve made the decision to sign you up for a program that the government recently started. It’s designed to help good hybrids like you, ones that want to grow up to be good people, to become productive members of society.”

You always laughed bitterly thinking back to that now. Member of society - hah! You were made little more than a slave, kept locked away behind fences or escorted around by groups of strange men with guns, and yet that program was supposedly to turn you into some paragon of virtue for all hybrids to aspire to.

“I want to be good,” you affirmed, smiling as your dad smiled back at you.

And you did. All you ever wanted was to be good.

“I know. And we think you’re gonna be so happy here, and you’re gonna do so well with the program! So we’re gonna go in and finish signing you up and you’re going to answer all of their questions honestly and politely, ok kiddo?”

“Oh…ok!” you’d said, not wanting to immediately bother him with your annoying questions. “But um- sorry - can I ask? What is the pro- program?”

Your dad’s mouth pressed into a thin line and you baulked, gulping as you realised you’d annoyed him after he’d just been so happy with you a second ago. Stupid dog! You were immediately frustrated at yourself, getting him worked up just when he was so proud a second ago.

Though you were pleased to see he would answer you regardless, he was just so kind as to explain things.

“It’s with the military, we were told by the helpline that this was the best place for you to go. Since you’re a wolf hybrid, you’ll be happiest here - you can get all your energy out properly and be part of a big ‘pack’ when you get assigned to a unit. They said it’ll be just like school, like a special school just for hybrids! They’ll train you up first and then you’ll begin getting sent out to places around the world where people need help, until eventually you get your very own personal handler who looks after only you and takes you with them everywhere,” your dad explained, his voice slightly strained as he tried to position the job as nicely as he could.

You frowned. You ignored his ‘don’t question me anymore’ eyes. Questions bursting from your mouth before your head could quash them down.

“A handler that looks after me? But you and mum look after me,” you laughed, “Why would I need someone else to do that?”

“Because you’re too old for us to look after anymore, we have to let a professional take over now,” your mum said, finally turning around to look at you, waving off the hard look your dad shot her. “You have to stay here, where its safe for us and you. They’ll know how to handle you properly here. Hey now! No, don’t make a fuss. What do we keep telling you? You’re not a baby, you don’t need to bother with crocodile tears!”

You couldn’t help but get panicked then. Halfway through her speaking you realised that they actually intended to drop you off here and give you away. How could they just do that? You had to be mixed up, you reasoned, you had to be thinking stupidly as usual and you were getting it all wrong.

“B-bu-but I…do I- I’ll get to come home and visit right?” you spluttered, trying desperately to withhold the tears that were streaming down your cheeks, rubbing furiously at the evidence that you were in fact the baby she was describing. “You- you said it’s like school! I’ll get to come home on the weekend then, won’t I? I’ll get day’s off on Saturday and - and Sunday and I’ll get to c-come home, right?”

Your mum was about to speak again, but your dad forcefully dug his hands into hers, grabbing with enough force to shake her, practically baring his teeth at the barest hint of her mouth opening. She shut it promptly again and he breathed out a loud sigh, one that still reached your ears over the frantic rushing of your own blood stream.

“Oh kiddo, you’re getting yourself all upset just before you have to meet the nice people! C’mon now, stop the silly tears. We’re gonna get you inside and you can ask all the questions you need to. In fact I think they’ll be very excited to get to talk to you. Now dry your eyes and come with me, that’s it, just breathe and calm down. No need to be a silly baby, because you’re not a silly baby are you? That’s right, you’re a big strong wolf. Come on then!”

Your mum stayed in the car, offering you a small smile as you went. Though as you think back to it now, you realise it was probably a smile of relief. One reserved only for herself.

Your dad’s parting words were little better than your mum’s smile. He’d said he’d speak to you again soon. That was just before he’d sent you packing into the strange office after signing in at the front desk, escorted away by a big bald man in a crisp green uniform, barely able to turn your body enough in his iron grip so that you could get one last look at your dad. He did a great job of feigning concern as he smiled encouragingly through the doorway. It was enough to help you calm yourself a little, thinking that at least you’d probably see him again on the weekend since he told you he’d see you soon.

From then on however, you weren’t able to ask any questions, it hadn’t gone at all like your dad had said it would. You still weren’t able to confirm if you were getting time off to go see your family again, still weren’t getting to learn what it was you would be doing. You were cut off at every turn.

Your hands were smacked with a ruler when you didn’t give the lady the answers she wanted because you were too busy trying to determine what the hell this program really was. You’d jumped the first time she did it, wailing from the shock of it at first before the burning sting set in. She’d just tisked at you and repeated her last question in a shout, asking you about any possible allergies or health problems.

Little were you to know, you’d face much worse in the years to come.

You tried to do everything that was asked of you just to avoid that horrible ruler for the rest of the day. However it wasn’t enough to make them happy, nothing was. They didn’t smile at you or speak to you encouragingly, their monotonous voices were like sandpaper on your ears. They shuffled you along from room to room, processing your forms and getting you set up with a bunk - in a room full of similarly sniffling hybrid children - before whisking you away to a building outside that looked much like a garage.

They’d thrown some items of clothing at you from off the racks and told you to get changed behind the makeshift curtain they’d set up, ordering you to hand over your old clothes afterwards. The room smelt like stale laundry detergent and bleach. The air stung at your eyes while you changed, biting at your overstimulated senses.

You’d felt all the more inconsolable as you gave away your favourite tshirt, mourning the loss of the happy little cartoon dog as you had to trade him for a plain green button down. You struggled to put it on with your shaking fingers, huffed when you had a hard time squeezing your tail through the toughly stitched hole in the rough trousers. Military issue wasn’t built for comfort, that was one of your first hard learned lessons.

“The fit’s alright,” the bald man had confirmed when you were out, staring at you with a bored look of a man that was going to be doing the same assessment with tons of other hybrids for days to come. “Look after those clothes, you won’t get another set until you progress to the next stage.”

-🐺-

“Pup?”

You snapped out of your thoughts and lasered in on Ghost, suddenly realising how badly you’d zoned out. How long had you been ignoring him for? Fuck!

“Yes,Sir? Sorry, Sir,” you said quickly, trying to rectify your mistake. “I…”

He’d asked you something…

“I asked you if the boots fit alright?” Ghost chuckled, ruffling a hand over your head.

You sighed and looked down at the shiny new shoes, still blown away by how easily Ghost had acquired not only those but also a full new set of hybrid uniforms and underwear. The quarter master hadn’t even blinked at his request, he’d just gotten Ghost to sign a few forms and just like that you had a brand new wardrobe full of new and perfectly pressed clothes.

Normally you were only allowed to replace one new piece at a time, and usually you’d be met with annoyance and huffing at every request. The old quartermaster would drone on about money and what a waste it was to give you something new. This one just smiled as he handed you a bag with all of your fresh new things, telling Ghost to let him know if you needed any new patches for your shirts while you did all you could not to gape at him.

“The boots are good, thank you. They just need broken in,” you shrugged, already feeling them rubbing a little uncomfortably across your left ankle.

“Mhmm, just let me know if they dig too much. I can tell Price if you need a break today. Remember what he told you earlier, we want you to communicate with us, alright?”

“Alright,” you answered, still feeling like you’d landed in some kind of alternate reality overnight.

“That’s my good pup.”

He squeezed your shoulder and led you off to the training area then, his back turned as you stared up at him with big eyes. My good pup. Your spine had tingled so warmly after hearing that, you’d even felt your traitorous tail wag a little before you gripped it tightly in your hand and stopped it.

The whole way to the training area you repeated his words in your head, almost drunkenly swooning over the rumble of his accent. It kept you following slowly behind him, trying to ensure he didn’t see the ridiculous little smile that had refused to leave your face after his praise. Not that it was just the praise itself, of course, no he’d called you his specifically.

It was only when you were met with Price again that you were able to think straight. Your posture went rigid when you met his eyes and noted that he looked serious now. The job was officially starting.

You’d been led into a cavernous building with big bright lights glaring over your head. It’s floors were filled with tall panels of wood that stretched high above you and even over Ghost's towering frame, filling the room with a cheap sawdusty smell. From inside you knew there were men waiting inside the labyrinth that surely lay within, you could hear their heartbeats echoing in the expansive space, you could smell their sweat as they adjusted to the warmth of the blaring overhead lights.

Everything was set up for a simulated mission. You’d done similar drills many times before, your heart was already beating fast with anticipation, base instincts beginning to bubble to the surface. You were ready to run, ready to hunt.

However the nature of your quarry was still to be revealed. That kept your head just human enough to listen to what Price had to say. It never did to misunderstand the mission and run straight into failure, and at that point you wanted to do everything you could to try and dodge any punishments.

“So we’ve got a simple set up for today, this is mainly to get you properly acquainted with the team and get you familiarised with us,” Price said carefully, keeping strict eye contact with you to make sure you understood him.

If you were to hover outside your own body you knew your pupils had probably already dilated. Your chest was probably already noticeably heaving as the wolf inside you seized control over your mind. He’d know you were almost gone, and would need carefully given instruction.You flicked your ears for him, letting him see that you were listening intently to what your new Captain was saying.

Little did he know there was a new part of you now primed and ready to receive his praises, endorphins were ready to fire as you got ready to impress him. You felt like you had a real chance to shine now, to do well for someone other than yourself.

“Basically we’re going to run you through some tracking drills. We’ve got some bits of clothing prepared for you to scent and you’re gonna run through the maze taking down hostiles and securing your ‘hostages’. This is gonna help you remember our scents so that you can find us in the field in future, and it’s gonna give us a taste of what you can do when you’re up against an enemy. You’re gonna start off with Ghost keeping you in a collar hold to start, you’re gonna alert him when you find an enemy or sense a hostage, but we’ll let you do some solo runs as well. Sound good?”

“Yes sir,” you answered in a growl, the wolf inside straining to go.

“Alright. Ghost, help Pup stick their gear on, I’m gonna go up to the stands and get ready to watch.”

With that Price moved up to the metal steps to your left, ascending to the high walkway above so that he could watch over the maze and track your movements. With each thud he made, your heart beat with it. You tried not to wriggle too much while Ghost got you ready, but you did receive a small ‘hey!’ and a tug on your collar when you tried to look past Ghost and toward the course. After giving you a second to calm down, he stuck you in a vest and hooked your comms up to his and Price’s, ensuring he secured a looped earpiece round your ear to hear them with as well.

From then on it was like torture waiting for Ghost to get himself ready, it felt like time was moving at half speed, your tail swished impatiently as he got himself into safety gear and took his sweet time grabbing one of the training guns from the racks. You shivered with anticipation, heavily scenting the air already while you stepped from foot to foot. Your body was burning with energy, your legs ready to pounce.

“Alright I’m gonna get the lights in a second, we’re gonna simulate a city street at night, so you’re going to have low visibility,” Price explained, voice sparking to life through the comms in your ear. “If you walk round to the entrance you’ll see Gaz and Soap’s jackets. You’re gonna get a good whiff of em’ and use that to track em down, Pup. You ready?”

“Ready, Captain,” you answered, already straining in Ghost’s hold.

“Fuckin’ hell,” ghost rumbled.

He’d gripped your collar after he finished sorting his gear and now you were primed to go, struggling to try and pull him forward as you sensed the job was starting. ‘Work mode’ had shuttered off any other thoughts. All that kept you in your spot was the incredibly tight grip that Ghost had on you - that and all the training you’d had not to abandon the handler that was collar holding you. You might’ve tried to squirm free otherwise.

“That’s one strong wolf,” Price chuckled, disappearing as he shut off the lights with a loud click. “Hold on tight, Ghost.”

Your instincts flared ever more wildly in the darkness. The flickering lamplights above were just bright enough to lead you around to the starting gate of the course and to the discarded jackets strewn on the floor.

Ghost took one of them in his free hand and held it up to your face, letting you drink in the scent of it while he kept a firm grip of your collar. Almost immediately you were getting warm notes of aftershave and undertones of rich home cooking. Gaz, you guessed in the back of your mind, vaguely recognising the scent from back in the break room. Ghost lifted the next one for you, repeating the procedure again. Annoyingly that’s when you realised that Soap was an expert in demolitions. You knew that now from the hints of explosive materials that you could sniff out.

You whuffed out an agitated breath and stopped Ghost from taking the jacket away, holding it longer so that you could try to find something to pinpoint Soap properly by. Sniffing out explosives and associating that with a friendly would be a very very bad idea, even with your clouded brain you knew that, so you wanted to establish his scent by something better. You inhaled again and gulped the scent in, holding onto the gentle hints of sage and cigarettes that emanated from below the plastics and frowning when you swore you could detect a familiar hint of spicy citrus peels…

You dropped the confusion as soon as it came, satisfied that you could accurately identify both Soap and Gaz. There was no point wondering why that secondary scent was on there, and now you were far too eager to get started. You rushed forward and had Ghost quietly swearing again as you set off through the wooden course, soon greeted with more accurate building facades as you stepped out onto an almost abandoned city street.

You huffed in deep lungfuls of air, twitching your ears all the while as you listened out for hostiles and tried to scent out your targets. There were so many intermingling scents, so many distractions to sift through. Only a few steps forward you detected something in an alleyway to your left and turned to Ghost, flicking your head in the direction of the possible enemy ahead.

Ghost nodded and flicked two of his fingers to his side, signalling for you to heel while he raised his gun. Luckily your training allowed you to tamp down the instinct to run off and chase the enemy like a snarling beast, otherwise you’d have run off to do just that.

Instead you quietly followed along with your handler while he picked off the hostile with a suppressed shot. Your ears twitched nonetheless when it came, feeling like a fly had buzzed right into it with the noise that it made. The training guns were always too high pitched, never able to quite simulate the real sound of a shot.

“Good,” ghost whispered, just barely enough so that you could hear.

Your tail swished and you smiled to yourself as Ghost took a hold of your collar again, allowing you to lead him further through the street, brimming with pride after being complimented. It took a little time to work your way through the course, keeping yourselves pressed tightly into the shadows. The two of you crouched and ducked through the alleyways, picking soldiers with weapons off one by one and leaving the fake civilians to wander.

When you finally came to a building that emanated with the smell of amber tinged aftershave, you stopped suddenly and perked your ears, alerting that you’d found your target. Ghost made his way to one of the windows and peeked inside, whispering to you that there seemed to be two men, and one was holding a gun to Gaz’s head. He released your collar and swirled his index finger by the door, signalling for you to wait by it and get your orders

“I’m gonna take the man with the Gun out from here. You try to go inside and take the one by the doorway. You can surprise him if you act fast,” Ghost whispered. “On my signal.”

You nodded and primed yourself at the door, ready to fling it open and throw yourself inside. You watched Ghost intently from your periphery, doing everything not to snarl with all the adrenaline that coursed through you. The warm buzz of a mission going well never failed to make you happy, always showing you that you were capable and strong. Something to be feared when out on the field.

Ghost grunted at you to go and just as his shot rang out, you ripped through the doorway and set yourself on the man inside. He screamed loudly as you took him down, a sound like a strangled cat leaving his throat as you swiped at the target pad that had been put there. It always terrified people when you did that, making them realise just how much of a threat you were when you easily ripped the foam and simulated a perfect kill.

In real life that kill would’ve been near silent once their vocal chords had been torn, but the man before you was shrieking as you loomed over him. It was enough to bring his friend rushing out from the shadows, emerging from a room just behind Gaz in a blaze of shock from all the noise.

Just as the man’s trudging steps hit the floor, you leapt from your old target and toward the new one, snarling and growling up a storm. You were ensuring you drew the fire to you and not your hostage, just as you’d been trained to do. Though before he could get a shot off, you were on him, slamming his gun hand to the ceiling above and overwhelming him with a few snaps toward his precious face.

That was usually enough to have people panicking and forgetting all of their training. In this case it was as well. The man screamed and tried to use the butt of his gun to hit you, but you directed his hand away easily and barked loudly in his face. When you bit at the foam by his throat, he screamed all the harder, sending you into a revelry as you savaged the fake target with glee.

By this point your mouth would be dripping with blood, and your teeth practically burned with the lack of wetness there. Your mouth watered at his pathetic cries, jaw working as you willed yourself not to clamp down on him and bite. It took everything in you to remember this man wasn’t actually your enemy, and you’d already ‘killed’ him. You didn’t need to do anything else.

“Oi, shut it!” Ghost shouted, pulling you promptly off of the terrified man while glowering down at him. “You know better. Dead men don’t whine and piss their pants.”

“Sir, I-“

Ghost shot him a warning look, forcing the man to bite his lip and let himself fall back, closing his eyes as if he’d just drawn his last breath. You snickered to yourself and hummed with pleasure as Ghost raked his hands through your hair, roughly petting you with his thick skeleton gloves.

“Good Pup. Price was right, you’re fast!” he praised, working his hand over your vest and giving you a few encouraging pats.

You rumbled out a happy little chirp, already non-verbal as the adrenaline fully set in now. You were deep into the mindset of the wolf, trusting your instincts and training to keep you right. Shut up, focus, signal, bite the foam; your deep rooted commands played like an old mantra.

“We both told you,” Gaz said, “that one’s a beaut in the field.”

You looked over to him then, some of your humanity returning as you realised how embarrassing it was to be petted and cooed over in front of your Sergeant. Though Gaz’s compliment didn’t escape you and, dumb animal that you were, you chirped at that too. He smiled at the sound and shook his head, looking over to Ghost and away from your horrified widening eyes.

“So mister saviour,” Gaz said, fluttering his eyelashes and clasping his hands by his face. “Are you gonna get me out of here?”

Ghost snorted and pulled you close to him, firmly keeping you fixed to his front.

“You wait here while we get Soap. We’ll get you both out at the same time.”

“This Soap guy sounds like an idiot. You should just leave him and take me away,” Gaz grinned, his character voice cracking as he laughed.

“Don’t get too jealous, Garrick. I’ll be back for you soon enough,” Ghost rumbled. “I can take you then.”

You blinked as you watched Ghost wink and felt your cheeks flush. The men had an easy friendship; not the kind you’d seen between the guys at Branhaven that were quick to shout ‘gay!’ If they had to shake another man’s hand. They certainly wouldn’t have pretended to flirt while on a training simulation with the Captain watching.

Speaking of-

“Get on with it,” Price drawled, making you jump as you remembered he was on the comms.

With that, Ghost allowed you to lead the way to Soap while Gaz picked a spot to hide. You made your way easily through the streets, jointly taking down more of the men while they ran around in a frenzy.

After hearing all the gunshots they were like noisy wasps buzzing around, guns pointing out in front of them like angry stingers. They were sloppy though, and loud, easy targets for you both to tear through until you found Soap’s trail and sniffed him out to a fake multi story flat.

You ascended the stairways and took all the men that stood in your way, checking each door and systematically destroying all your opposition until you found the door that Soap was behind.

Sure enough you could sense his racing heart and smell that familiar warp of plastic and Sage and cigarettes. There were other smells there too though. More hostiles. You turned to Ghost and held up 3 fingers, letting him know about the others in the room. He nodded his head and quietly got to work bringing out a camera, allowing you both to see the position of your targets.

Just like Gaz, there was a man holding a gun to Soap’s neck. One other man was pacing the room and the other was facing the doorway, ready to shoot. Ghost sighed out an annoyed breath and retrieved the camera, looking up to the ceiling as he thought about how to go ahead.

“I’ll take out the one facing the doorway first. You take down the one with his gun to Soap and I’ll get the restless one after that.”

“But then Soap’ll get shot,” you murmured, not sure if this was one of the times you should be verbalising.

“We’ll both get shot if I leave someone facing us. Risking the hostage is a move we have to make, not like they’ll be any better off with us dead and one left with a gun in their hands.”

“You can shoot from the side and let me run at the one facing the door. He won’t swivel in time to get Soap.”

That was the kind of plan you were used to. Usually the human soldiers and the hostages took priority, while your life hung in the balance. It was mostly only saved by your incredible speed, sometimes your vest, as you weaved your way forward, bounding toward the enemy with unpredictable animal movements.

“We go with my plan,” Ghost said firmly. “Take down the one by Soap on my signal.”

There was no room to disagree. You readied yourself and waited as Ghost kept his hands primed on the door. You breathed out and listened to him countdown, bolting through the doorway like a bullet when you saw it open wide enough.

You beelined for the man over Soap and threw yourself at him, sending him flying backwards as you ripped into the foam. The man struggled at first, but settled on the ground once he saw the foam torn apart in your teeth and stared up wide eyed and silently.

Your heartbeat thrummed in your ears and you turned then, hurling yourself over to Soap and curling round him with a growl. Your hair stood up on your neck as you looked out for anyone that might crawl out the woodwork to attack him, ready to face a similar scenario just as you’d had with Gaz. Your limbs shivered with anticipation, ready to strike. You snarled out a bark, body expelling every bit of nervous energy it could.

“Woah there wolfie,” Soap laughed, wrapping one of his big arms around your shoulders, curling his hand round your collar in a restraining grab. “You’re good, you got em all. You’ll terrify the shit out of a real hostage makin’ all tha noise.”

You huffed indignantly and settled back, letting your growls die out in your throat as you realised he was right. Ghost shot down the wanderer when you’d taken a protective stance of Soap, and now you were in a silent room with only fake dead men as your teammates stared intently at you.

“Good job though, you really got that guy,” Soap affirmed, petting your head even more enthusiastically than Ghost, sending you grumbling and pinning your ears back as you felt your hair fill with static.

Soap jumped a little as he heard you, reeling back his arm and regarding you with a careful look. You fell silent as you saw him, frowning at his sudden show of fear. He was holding his hand to his chin, pulling it away quickly once he caught you staring.

In the darkness you swore you could make out a scar there. The light bounced off of the ridges and sparkled in his glassy eyes.

“Jesus! Remind me not to cross this one,” Soap said breathily, shooting a nervous smile at Ghost.

“Pup’ll remind you just fine,” ghost snorted, “got a good growl on ya, isn’t that right?”

You shrugged and avoided his eyes, realising that you had been pretty noisy. Though you couldn’t help it when it came to all out confrontation. It made men quake in fear, made them sloppy. It was one of your best weapons, limited as you were to using your teeth and claws and, ever so occasionally, knives.

“Come on then, you two. Best get moving.”

You awkwardly stood away from Soap, trying not to scare him anymore than you already clearly had. Normally you wouldn’t worry about that sort of thing, but Soap hadn’t actually been mean to you yet and you didn’t want to provoke him into behaving that way. You'd already learned from your past mistakes.

Once you’d all left the building, you regrouped with Gaz with little effort and Price had turned up the lights and rejoined you all. He praised you for your skills while reprimanding the others for messing about too much and then said the simulation would reset and everyone would switch a few more times.

The day went on with you ‘rescuing’ the whole team at least once, allowing you to become acquainted with Price’s earthy tobacco and dove soap smell when it was his turn to play hostage. It didn’t take long until you didn’t need to smell their clothing before being sent out into the course. Ghost had had a turn, switching out with Price, and you found him easiest out of everybody, primed to seek out his citrusy orange peel scent like it was a second air source. You hadn’t needed the old balaclava that Price offered, shaking your head as you pulled him toward the entrance.

Price had grunted and swore something awful while he took control of you, sending Ghost laughing over the comms. Ghost was nice enough to stay hooked up so that he could advise Price when needed. He told him to put a little pressure on the scruff of your neck if you pulled too much. He’d needed to do that a couple times as you raced ahead, trying valiantly to get to your proper handler while the Captain fought against your fast pace. You were so wrapped up in the situation, too far gone worrying about Ghost’s pretend capture, to even be scared when Price threatened to get a hobble for your legs if you didn’t behave.

It was a heavy day, by far one of the most intense training sessions you’d had in a while, but one filled with high praise that kept you raring to go. After having enough simulations that you lost count, all the running around and growling had burned your throat ragged and you were truly finished.

Ghost caught you almost doubling over with the effort it took to stay standing after the last bout and stuck his arm round you. He held you firmly to his hard vest as he petted your head and encouraged you to take a few breaths.

“That’s it, take it easy, good pup. You’ve done so well today, you’ve impressed me,” he whispered, leaning down just so that you could hear him. “C’mon let’s get you outta that gear. Time for a break, hm?”

You nodded tiredly and looked up as the others glanced over at you both curiously. You didn’t have enough energy to be embarrassed while they watched Ghost help take your gear off. You just clung to him and groaned when the weight of your vest was removed and you were left in your uniform again. You couldn’t help shivering now that the cold air had started to seep in through the metal walls of the warehouse building.

“Cold, Pup?” Price asked, voice gruff from all his shouting at the soldiers.

A lot of men had had to be reprimanded for screaming and struggling against you; all being told that if they acted like squeaky toys they were going to get bitten like squeaky toys. It certainly felt true as you struggled against yourself with each hour that ticked by, finding it harder and harder to resist the urge to attack. You wanted to do a good job, wanted to end the enemy and protect your pack. It took everything to remind the wolf in you that they weren’t the real enemy and your ‘pack’ were perfectly safe.

You looked up to Price, suddenly very aware that you saw him differently now. You saw each of the 141 differently as you cast your eyes over them - saw them not as your deceptive antagonists, but something new…something you hadn’t encountered before.

“It’s freezing in here,” you huffed, answering Price’s question honestly, without fear that he’d reprimand you for it.

“Here, take this.”

Gaz stepped forward and pulled his hoodie out of his jacket, separating the sleeves before handing it to you. His scent drifted up from the fibres, piercing the cold air with its warmth. You took it gratefully, but tilted your head up at him, confused as to why he’d give it to you.

“But won’t you be cold?” You asked with a frown.

“Nah, I’ve still got my jacket,” he said, wrapping his jacket around his back for emphasis, “take it, it’s fine.”

You bit your lips, mind racing as you lifted it up and wrapped it round yourself, noting how oversized it was as it crept down your legs. The soft grey material hugged the cold from your bones and you smiled, savouring the warmth that it offered.

“Thanks Gaz,” you said, almost groaning as you felt your tail wag wildly from behind you.

Something told you that you were going to be doing that a lot more often now…

#simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #Ghost #mw2 #ghost x reader #Hybrid!reader #reign down on me

1K notes · View notes

harmonicakai · 8 months ago

Text

Be Around Me

Part 1 of the "Love is Embarrassing" series

Pairing: Gyuvin x Reader, Ricky x Reader (one-sided), Haobin crumbs, Jiwoong x Reader teeny tiny crumbs

Summary: Gyuvin is the type of guy to get flustered over everything, but little does he know that you secretly think it makes him even cuter.

Tropes: basketball star!gyuvin, journalist!reader, college AU, basketball!zb1, frat!zb1, secret admirer, fluff, slow burn, crack, unrequited love, mutual pining, gyuvin is a LOSER

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Ricky is annoying lol, mentions of masturbation and sex (mdni!!!)

A/N: y’all will have pry zb1 college basketball au from my cold dead hands!!!!!!!! also for once in my life, y/n is not super insecure we cheered!!

FIC INSPIRED SPOTIFY PLAYLIST <3

“It's obvious she's so out of reach And I'm finding it hard 'cause She makes me feel, makes me feel Like I try, like I try, like I'm trying too hard” —Try Hard, 5 Seconds of Summer

On the court, Kim Gyuvin is the star player of the Wakefield Roses. With his long limbs, he handles the ball with ease, capturing the hearts of everybody in the crowd every time he grins after scoring a basket.

Off the court, he’s an awkward mess. Combine that with the fact that you, the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, are usually the one covering games for the school news, and he’s a goner.

As if it isn’t hard enough for him to make eye contact with the camera, he also has to make sure he doesn’t stare too hard at your shiny hair or glossy lips. His teammates would never let him live it down if he was caught being an absolute creep on video.

What started out as a little crush has grown into a deep admiration. He reads every article that you put out into the school newspaper, sometimes even cutting out the ones you’ve written about him and his team. Everybody makes fun of him for being too scared to just ask you out.

He’s never been one to flirt with girls, but the way you make conversations so easy during interviews, even when he’s stumbling over his words, makes him feel at ease around you. Still, he wonders how much of it is just your journalist persona versus you actually liking him.

Sharing a double with Ricky means he gets exiled a lot in the name of his roommate getting laid. Sometimes, you come back from getting your morning coffee and catch him sleeping on one of the lounge’s couches.

One morning, when your arms are full of pastries that you intend to hoard in your dorm for the upcoming week, you spot him curled up yet again on your way back to your room.

Without much thought, you stop to leave a muffin and a little note next to it on the table in front of him, conveniently forgetting to sign your name.

It began with cutesy but vague things, like “breakfast for a champion,” but quickly escalated as soon as Gyuvin started leaving notes back for you.

After a couple exchanges, he even wrote that you didn’t need to be leaving him food at all and that he just wanted to know who you were. Truthfully, you had a really big crush on Gyuvin, but didn’t everybody?

Despite being a bit camera shy, he was always so sweet before and after your interviews, doing his best to make small talk and smiling his smile that could make anybody swoon.

Plus, you’ve seen how much more comfortable he is with other people, even the cheerleaders, who are all super pretty. He must just be really nice.

So, you continue to leave the notes unsigned, despite each one growing in flirtation. You like the thrill of being mysterious, but you’re mostly just scared of getting rejected since he’s never given you a reason to think he likes you back.

It isn’t until Ricky catches you one morning, a sly grin on his face when he sees you leaving a whole stack of notes on the table.

When you lock eyes with Gyuvin’s roommate, you know the jig is up. Surely, he’ll tell him it’s been you all along.

“Y/N,” Ricky nods when you approach him, his arms crossed. “I have to say, I had my suspicions.”

“Listen, Ricky, I would prefer if we could keep this between us.”

“Gyuvin’s been going on and on about some secret admirer for weeks now. It’s cruel that you won’t tell him who you are.”

“He’s welcome to stop writing back if he doesn’t want to,” you shrug, although it would probably devastate you if that actually happened.

“Oh, trust me, he wants to. Especially if he found out it was you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that every time he finishes an interview with you, he might always run home and lock himself in our bathroom because you get him so riled up. If you know what I mean.”

Your eyes go wide at the revelation. Ricky is surely just messing with you. “That’s—that’s not funny, Ricky. You shouldn’t joke about those kinds of things.”

“I’m not joking,” he chuckles. “Listen, Zeta Beta Omega is throwing a party tonight and the whole team will be there. You should come.”

“I don’t do parties,” you scoff. “Why would you even want me there?”

“Because maybe after a few drinks, you and Gyuvin won’t be so scared to tell each other how you feel. Then you guys can knock off this silly game and he can stop whining about not knowing who his mystery girl is.”

“And go back to whining about how all his roommate does is kick him out every night so he can fuck whoever he lays his eyes on?”

“Exactly. See, Y/N, you get me,” he practically purrs. “So, you show up looking all pretty and talk to my poor, lovesick roomie, and I won’t spill your little secret. Deal?”

“Ugh, fine, I guess. I can’t believe you’re blackmailing me. Deal.”

“Trust me, it’s for your own good, sweetheart.”

You cringe at the pet name. “Is this how you talk to everybody?”

“Yes. Why? Is it working? Are you going to start leaving me notes too?”

“Enjoy the rest of your morning, Ricky. I’ll see you later,” you say, walking past him. Even if he’s annoying, it’s genuinely impressive how he managed to brush off every insult you threw his way.

“See you, Y/N.” You don’t even have to look back at him to know that he winked as he said that.

—————-

Gyuvin knows that staying up all night waiting around for his mystery girl would be an invasion of privacy. At least he thinks the person who keeps leaving him baked goods and notes is a girl. Or maybe he’s just being hopeful that it’s you.

He’s never seen your handwriting before, but he’s been close enough to smell your perfume and he swears he can catch hints of it wafting off the sticky notes.

In fact, he’s started looking forward to Ricky kicking him out of their shared bedroom just because he knows he’ll be waking up to the sweetest surprise when he sleeps in the lounge.

Tonight’s party should be a good distraction from all of the wondering. Maybe, if he’s drunk enough, Ricky will be more embarrassing than alluring and Gyuvin will get to sleep in his own bed. Still, he can’t get this morning’s notes off his mind.

You’ve left him clues, little doodles of your favorite things. Your coffee order, favorite color, favorite animal, and so on. He’s hoping you’ll be at tonight’s party so he can see if you mention any of the stuff drawn out, but you never show up to these kinds of things.

That was before Ricky got involved. You stood outside the ZBO frat house wearing your worst sneakers and a baby pink minidress, as suggested by one of your suitemates.

If only you didn’t show up by yourself. There were a few familiar faces from class, and of course, the entire basketball team, but nobody you were really friends with. All you could focus on was how sticky the floor was and how much you needed a drink.

“Hi,” you say, finally making your way over to the bartender. It’s the team’s captain, Hanbin. “Just give me whatever tastes the best.”

“One rum punch it is,” he smiles, his whisker dimples making your heart flutter. Why was everybody on the team good looking? “Y/N, right?”

“Yep,” you say, taking the plastic cup from him. “You’re Hanbin. You know, I’ve been meaning to interview you, but you always seem so busy with other things at games.”

“Don’t worry about it. It wouldn’t be nearly as cute as when you interview Gyuvin,” he laughs, eyeing the line of guests waiting for their drinks. “I’ve got a job to do, but I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Thanks for the drink,” you say, holding it up in a sort of cheer before walking away. You take a sip and savor its sweetness, the liquor’s flavor blending in perfectly to the juice. Hanbin’s words stick with you. Were you and Gyuvin cute together?

Sure, he’s so tall that he practically towers over you, but he refuses to ever make eye contact and always keeps his replies so short and polite. Then again, he sure seems to write a lot in the notes that he doesn’t know are going to you.

For a second, you start to consider that you might actually have a chance with him, until you spot him with a beautiful girl touching his arm and whispering something in his ear. Before you can mope for too long, someone is tapping you on the shoulder.

“There you are,” a familiar voice calls over the music. You turn to see Ricky grinning at you, his hair looking almost white under the lights. “You look good.”

“Thanks, I guess,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest to prevent him from checking you out any further. He glances past you at his roommate.

“Don’t worry about her,” he assures you. You don’t know whether or not to believe him. “Gyuvin has never taken a girl home from these parties, let alone kissed one.”

That’s a relief. “Don’t you have a hook-up to hunt down?” you ask Ricky. He cocks an eyebrow at you, sipping his drink.

“Oh, Y/N. I keep my girls on speed dial,” he chuckles. You cringe at his playboy persona and for once in his life, Ricky is embarrassed. He shuts his mouth, hoping you can’t see him blush.

“Wow,” you say, tilting your head at him. “Don’t tell me young and rich, tall and handsome Shen Ricky can actually feel shame. I really wish I had a cameraman with me right now.”

“Like I said, it works on most people,” he attempts to reason. “You’re just immune to my charms, I guess.”

“Guess so,” you smirk, downing the rest of your drink. You glance behind your shoulder to see Gyuvin still talking to that girl, then back at Ricky, who’s deep in thought.

“Do you want to meet the rest of the team?” he asks, surprising you. You give a slight nod, and that’s all he needs to see before grabbing your wrist and pulling you through the crowd.

At first, Ricky lingers as you make small talk with Matthew, Taerae, and Gunwook, and explains to you that Yujin is actually at home because he’s still in high school. You feel like a horrible journalist—have you been so preoccupied with Gyuvin that you didn’t notice there was a literal child on the team?

By now, Ricky’s abandoned you to go find something, or someone, more entertaining. He’s dropped you off with Jiwoong, the oldest player, who is as aloof as he is annoyingly handsome. The way he eyes you makes your stomach do cartwheels, and you’ve had enough to drink that you can’t see the harm in flirting with a cute boy.

He’s spewing some bullshit about meditating when you cut him off. “I like your hair,” you blurt out, catching him off guard. He turns and smiles at you for the first time since you started talking.

“You do?” he asks, running a hand through it. “I think it’s a little long. I might get a haircut soon.”

“Keep it like that,” you say, not taking your eyes off of him. “It looks good.”

Jiwoong is grinning now, but he remembers that you’re Gyuvin’s crush, and it would be totally wrong to kiss you no matter how badly he wants to. He eyes the crowd, searching for someone to save him from the tension.

“Hao!” he says, grabbing a boy passing by and pulling him into the conversation. He looks familiar, but he’s certainly no basketball player. “Y/N, this is Zhang Hao. He’s our equipment manager. I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”

“Hi, Y/N,” Hao says, clearly caught off guard. “You’re the one who does the interviews, right?”

“That’s me,” you confirm. Jiwoong’s departure right when you thought he was going to kiss you was beyond bizarre. “I didn’t realize how many people knew me.”

“You’re basically a celebrity to the team,” Hao laughs. “They all think you’re pretty.”

“Makes sense,” you smile, sipping on your third drink of the night. “I am, in fact, very pretty.”

“Agreed. So, which one do you have your eye on?” he asks, leaning in to hear you better. “Or should I guess?”

“Go ahead and guess,” you say, eager to know what he thinks.

Hao takes a second to gather his thoughts. “Well, it’s clear that you’re into Gyuvin based on the way you giggle at his seriously unfunny jokes, but you were also just eye fucking Jiwoong. Then again, wasn’t Ricky dragging you around earlier by the hand?”

“By the wrist,” you correct him. “And yes, I do like Gyuvin. But he’s been talking to some other girl the whole night.”

“He only has eyes for you,” Hao says immediately. This is the second time you’ve heard this tonight, but the first where it’s coming from a trustworthy source.

“And you?” you ask in return, shifting the conversation onto him. “Which one do you have a crush on?”

Hao’s eyes widen. “I–I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not—I don’t—”

“Hao,” you cut him off. “You’ve glanced at Hanbin at least six times since this conversation started.”

He swallows, knowing he’s been caught. “It’s that obvious, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Why don’t you go talk to him?”

“We talk all the time,” Hao mutters, looking down at his shoes. “I’m basically his personal assistant.”

“Do you talk about anything other than basketball?”

“No.”

“Do you even like basketball?”

“...No.”

“Hao,” you say, gripping him by the shoulders and turning him towards the drink station. “Go over there and get your man.”

—————-

As if it weren’t enough of a shock to Gyuvin that you actually showed up to a ZBO party, he’s had to spend all night watching you chat up the entire team except for him.

They’ve no doubt let it slip to you that he has the biggest crush on you on campus, maybe even the entire world. But he’s way too nice to tell one of his classmates, who attends every game just to hold up a sign with his name on it, that he isn’t interested.

That’s how he ended up nursing his drink with a tight lipped smile, listening to what’s-her-name ramble on about things that would be more interesting to probably anybody else, all while keeping an eye on you as you bounce around the party.

Your interaction with Jiwoong made him jealous beyond belief, and he makes a mental note that while he’s made his crush on you very clear to his teammates, you’re technically not his and free to flirt with whoever you want.

He watches as you grasp Hao and shake him, muttering some words of encouragement before sending him over to the bar. Finally, you’re alone again. It’s now or never.

“I have to go walk my dog,” Gyuvin lies, not even bothering to let the poor girl react before making his way over to you. You’re wearing pink, his secret admirer’s favorite color. Surely, it’s not just a coincidence.

“Y/N,” he says a little too loud, startling you. You jump, accidentally knocking yourself into him. Both of your drinks go flying and suddenly, you’re covered in sticky red liquid.

At this point, Gyuvin might as well just die alone. How did he manage to only spill his drink on you and not himself? He peers down at you, guilt written all over his face, as you take in what’s just happened.

“Here,” he says, reaching into his hoodie’s pocket and pulling out wadded tissues. “They’re clean, I promise. I have, uh, I’ve got allergies, so I carry around a ton.”

He unfolds one and gently pats the liquid off of you without so much of a second thought. Your silence makes him panic even more, and he’s so focused on drying you off that he doesn’t even notice he’s basically rubbing the tissue on your cleavage.

Gyuvin freezes once he finally notices where his hand is, immediately pulling away and putting a good distance between the two of you. “I am so sorry. Holy shit, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not a pervert! Please don’t think I’m a pervert.”

“Gyuvin,” you finally say, your voice just as sweet as always. He’s pacing as much as he can with everybody packed in so tightly, his long legs taking tiny steps. “It’s okay. I don’t think you’re a pervert.”

He stops and looks down at you. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“Really,” you reassure him. “Although I might think you’re a klutz. Who knew Wakefield’s star basketball player was so clumsy off the court?”

“Technically, you bumped into me,” he asserts, his smile returning. “But you’re also the one who got soaked, so let’s just call things even.”

“Deal,” you agree. Sure, it’s fun when boys are obviously flirting with you, but the way Gyuvin has no clue what he’s doing is just so charming. It feels natural when you’re with him, a nice departure from the overused pickup lines and generic compliments that are usually thrown your way.

Gyuvin takes in your stained dress, the red punch seeping into the pink fabric like blood. You look straight out of a horror movie.

“Here,” he says, shrugging off his varsity jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders before taking in the sight of you. “Wow. You look so…”

“Silly?” you answer, the expanse of material wrapped around you like a tent.

“Cute. You look so cute.” Gyuvin meets your eyes for a split second before looking away again, his ears now feeling even hotter than when he saw you with Jiwoong. “I can get you a new shirt, if you want. My room isn’t far from here.”

“You want me to go with you to your room?” you giggle, enjoying how flustered you make him. Hearing his teammates talk about how much he likes you has taken a weight off your shoulders, and you don’t know how you ever thought he wasn’t into you before.

“No! Well, yes, but only if you want to. And I’m not using this as an excuse to bring you back to my room. I just know you like pink and I have this one pink shirt that shrunk in the wash and I think you’d look really good in it. Plus, I can start a load of laundry and get your dress all clean.”

This is the most you’ve ever heard him talk, his voice a few pitches higher than usual when he’s rambling. Plus, if he knows how much you like pink, he must be following your clues. “Let’s go to your room, then.”

—————-

While Gyuvin’s side of the room is much neater than you expected, Ricky’s side looks weirdly perfect. Not a single thing is out of place, with every item labeled or color coordinated. You’re shocked that two basketball players can manage to keep such a small room so tidy.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” Gyuvin apologizes, moving to make his bed. “You can sit here.”

“If this is what you think is messy, you don’t want to see my room,” you say, taking in all of the decorations. Usually, when you’re in a guy’s room, it’s all navy blue and manly movie posters, but Gyuvin’s walls are so colorful and covered in photos of his family and friends.

One piece of paper catches your eye—the very first article you wrote about the basketball team. You scan his wall, catching more and more newspaper clippings, all penned by you. Gyuvin’s too busy putting things away and rustling through his drawers to notice you staring at them in awe.

“Here we go,” he calls out, turning and holding up a shrunken pink t-shirt and a pair of sweats. His grin fades as soon as he catches you reading one of your own articles, which have been on his wall for so long that he’s forgotten they’re even there. “Oh. Uh, please don’t think I’m a creep.”

“It’s not creepy. It’s sweet. They’re all about you, anyway,” you say, turning to take the shirt from him. It has a picture of a silly looking greyhound on the front of it.

“Right,” Gyuvin says, shrugging off the interaction. He pulls himself onto the bed next to you, sitting cross legged and making sure to leave a gap between you and him. “That’s my dog, Eumppappa.”

“Eumppappa is an amazing name,” you muse, turning to smile at him. Your faces end up being so close that Gyuvin thinks his heart has stopped beating. In his attempt to scoot back, he ends up tumbling off of his bed.

“Fuck,” he says as he lands on the ground. You peer down from the lofted bed at his long limbs sprawled across the rug. If you didn’t think he was a complete loser before, you probably do now.

“Are you okay?” you call out, watching as he sits up and rubs his head.

“I’m good,” Gyuvin assures you, taking a breather before getting to his feet and heading towards the door. “I’m going to step out and let you change. Let me know when you’re decent.”

“Will do,” you smile, giving him a thumbs up. You strip your clothes off, throwing on the t-shirt and sweats and pulling the drawstring until you know they won’t fall off of you. “You can come back in, Gyuvin!”

He stumbles in, practically waiting with his body pressed against the door for the moment he could see you again. God, could you really not tell how much he liked you before tonight?

Gyuvin eyes you drowning in his clothes and he knows that he’d move earth and heaven if it meant that you’re who he got to wake up to for the rest of his life.

“I’ll go throw this in the washer and then we can head back to the party,” he stammers, snapping out of his daydream and grabbing your dress. Your smile is so pretty right now, even after all of his awkwardness, that it takes everything in him not to get hard just looking at you.

By the time he gets back from the laundry room, you’ve decided you don’t want to go back to the party, especially not dressed like this.

“Oh,” Gyuvin says, disappointed that his time with you has been cut short by his clumsiness. “Do you want me to walk you back to your place?”

“I live down the hall,” you remind him. You hope he doesn’t realize you could’ve just as easily grabbed your own change of clothes.

“Right,” he grimaces. He knows that. He’s always trying to time leaving his room perfectly so that he runs into you on the way to class.

Just like whenever you interview Gyuvin, there’s an awkward silence, except this time it can’t be edited out. He’s back to looking everywhere in the room except at you.

“It’s not even midnight,” you say, glancing at your phone’s lockscreen. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Like, together?” Gyuvin asks in disbelief. You nod, an amused smirk on your face. “Duh, of course you meant together. Yeah, sure, let’s watch a movie.”

Moments later, you’re sitting in the dark with Gyuvin, your legs pulled close to your chest as you watch Amélie projected onto the wall above Ricky’s bed.

Every once in a while, Gyuvin lets himself relax, his arm or his leg brushing against you by accident. After spending half of the film pulling away out of fear that he’s bothering you, he finally settles for having his fingers barely touching yours.

“You know,” he starts, his eyes still locked on the movie. “I kind of have my own mystery going on right now.”

“Really?” you say, feigning shock. “About what?”

“Someone keeps leaving me notes when I sleep in the lounge. Sometimes treats, but mostly notes. They don’t sign their name, but today they left me some little doodles as clues and I’ve been trying to figure them out.”

The way you’re reacting makes his stomach turn. How could it be you when you have a look on your face that says you have no clue what he’s talking about?

“Well, I’ve been meaning to work on my investigative journalism. What if I helped you track your secret admirer down?”

If you aren’t going to fall for him, he’ll at least settle for being friends. “That’d be awesome, Y/N.”

Suddenly, Ricky comes crashing into the dorm room, his lips attached to some girl’s face. He pulls away from her for a second, barely registering that you’re even there, before pulling out his wallet and throwing a couple hundred dollar bills at Gyuvin. “Get out. Now.”

Before you can protest, Ricky’s already unbuttoning his shirt, and you’ll gladly evacuate if it means you don’t have to watch whatever freaky shit is about to go down.

“I didn’t know he pays you to sleep in the lounge,” you laugh, your arms full of Gyuvin’s comforter as you walk down the hall. “With that kind of money, he could just buy an apartment.”

“He could,” Gyuvin starts, holding his pillow in one hand and the stack of notes—your notes—in the other. “But then he wouldn’t get the true college experience. Plus, he only throws money at me when it’s a last minute thing.”

“How much was that, anyway? Like $300?” you ask. He stops and takes out his wallet.

“$400. Pretty standard,” he shrugs, counting the bills. Your eyes widen at the total.

“Are you going to share?” you pout. “I got kicked out too.”

“You can have it,” he says, handing you the money, his brain short circuiting at the way you bat your eyelashes at him. You marvel at the crisp bills. “This is just another Friday night for me.”

“Okay, young and rich, tall and handsome Kim Gyuvin. Thanks for buying my dinner for the rest of the semester!” You don’t know this, but if you asked him to, Gyuvin would buy you whatever you wanted.

Before you can get down to helping him figure out the doodles, or throwing him off your trail, the two of you are fast asleep. Instead of the lounge’s couch, Gyuvin curls up on the oversized bean bag on your bedroom floor. It’s much too small for his frame to actually be comfortable, but he somehow feels more content just being around you.

—————-

Taglist: @orangesodafoam @theresawtf @nerezza123 @gyvnexe @xiurmy-everything @wollycobbl3-blr @cloudgyubi @yunnie-11 @wheatrice

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brodygold · 4 months ago

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The Team Manager

Martin had always hated sports. The sweat, the competition, the loud cheers, all of it was something the 54 year old avoided like the plague. He preferred his quiet life of books, music, and quiet nights in with his small group of friends. So when he received a mysterious invitation to attend a meeting with Richard, the captain of a soccer team he had never heard of called the Golden Army, he had no idea why he even considered showing up. But something about the gold-trimmed letter with the sleek team crest caught his attention. Maybe it was curiosity, or perhaps the strange allure of the name "Golden Army." Against his better judgment, Martin decided to go. What was the worst that could happen anyway?

The meeting took place in a lavish office inside an old stadium. Richard was already waiting for him, dressed in his signature golden soccer jersey. His sharp, charismatic presence was undeniable, and though Martin had no idea what he was doing there, he felt an unusual pull towards the man.

"Martin," Richard said with a calm yet authoritative voice. "I've been watching you. I believe you have what it takes to become something more."

Martin scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I think you're confusing me with someone else. I can't stand sports."

Richard smiled knowingly. "That’s precisely why you’re perfect. You’ve avoided competition all your life, but deep down, you have a drive for something greater. You just need the right... guidance."

Before Martin could protest, Richard’s eyes seemed to shimmer, locking onto his own. There was something mesmerizing in them, a golden hue that flickered like candlelight. Martin’s protests died in his throat as Richard’s voice became softer, more commanding, filling his mind like a gentle tide washing away his resistance.

"Relax, Martin," Richard said softly. "Let go of your doubts. You’re going to help us lead the Golden Army to victory. You’ll become the heart of the team—the manager we’ve always needed."

As Richard continued speaking, Martin felt an overwhelming sense of calm. Thoughts of sports, of his hatred for competition, melted away, replaced by an eagerness to serve, to lead, to belong. His mind emptied, and in that void, new ideas and images began to form. Visions of him guiding the team, organizing strategies, and celebrating victories with his players filled his consciousness. He could see himself now—a proud figure standing next to Richard, leading the Golden Army to triumph.

At that moment, Martin could feel something happening to his body. His grey hair went back to its original brown color and old hairstyle, while his wrinkles melted away into youthful skin, making him look like he was in his late 20s at most. Muscles he had never worked out started bulging from his body, giving him an almost bodybuilder like appearance.

A warm, shimmering light flooded the room, and Martin blinked as Richard handed him a shining gold suit. It sparkled in the light, the material sleek and metallic. He felt a strange compulsion to put it on, and without hesitation, he changed into the suit right there in front of Richard. The shiny gold fabric clung to him perfectly, wrapping him in a sensation of power and purpose. He buttoned up the equally gleaming gold shirt and tied the matching gold tie around his neck, each action feeling like a step toward his new role and self.

"How do you feel?" Richard asked, his eyes still gleaming.

"Ready," Martin said, his voice steady. Any doubt was gone. Now, he stood taller, his chest puffed out with pride. He looked into the mirror, barely recognizing the man staring back at him. This was no longer the shy, sports-hating Martin. This was someone else—someone important. Someone who could lead.

"You’re no longer just Martin," Richard declared. "From this day on, you’re our Golden Manager. You’ll help us rise to victory, and together, we’ll lead the Golden Army to greatness."

Martin nodded, his old self fading with each passing second. "Yes, Richard. I understand."

Richard clapped him on the back, a triumphant smile on his face. "Then let’s begin. The Golden Army needs you, and there’s no time to waste."

As they walked out of the office and onto the field where the team was training, Martin’s eyes scanned the players, dressed in their signature gold jerseys. He was no longer the outsider looking in—he was a part of this, part of the Golden Army. His heart swelled with a sense of belonging and pride, feelings he had never experienced before.

And he knew, deep down, that he would do whatever it took to lead the team to victory as the new manager.

#soccer tf #golden army #thegoldenteam #male transformation #golden team #hypnotised #male tf #jock tf #jockification #suit

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lazybutsmexy · 2 years ago

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NOOO NO NO NO TAKE IT BACK APOLOGY W TEARS RN IM SOBBING CRYING DON'T DO THIS TO ME THIS IS A PERSONAL ATTACK(it was delicious, scrumptious wow i love seeing sadness) MAKE IT BETTER OW OW BRING THEM BACK(it was so good i love your writing eating it up yumyumyum) I crave more of them all being platonic (HURT/COMFORT?!??!) plsplspls begging for crumbs in tears ill do anything

Hmmm... I am a slut for hurt/comfort myself...

Task Force + affectionate reader Pt. 3

Pt. 1 Pt. 2

Warnings: HURT/COMFORT, bit of cursing.

The people who smile the most are often the saddest. The people who share the most love often don't feel any towards themselves.

Or: it's your team's turn to show affection

It was one of those days.

One of those days where you didn't have the energy to care about yourself. You were able to keep up with your little routines around base, somehow. But it was dimmed, a matte finish to what was once all shiny and sparkly.

Because it was one of those days.

You always became like this after taking leave for longer than two days. You'd visit your family during that time - or rather, they would come to you as soon as they realized you were at your place downtown and not the barracks - and bombard you with anything they set their minds to.

No matter how grueling your missions were, your family always managed to make you feel even more drained during leave. Their constant demands and mental games, the guilt-tripping and manipulation, always made you feel as if you were walking on eggshells around them.

Tracking down and dismantling human trafficking rings seemed like a walk in the park compared to dealing with them.

You personally tried your best to keep your personal problems away from your work, greeting everyone around you with the same cheery tone, and going about your little routine with the others as usual.

But they had started to notice how your smile didn't reach your eyes, and how you seemed unable to shake off the frown in your brows.

And to avoid unwanted questions that you were too ashamed to answer, you simply chose to distance yourself.

Price shared a look with Ghost, who stood across the room from him, and he shared the same concern in his eyes as they watched you walk into the debrief room

you sat yourself at the back, whereas you'd usually choose to sit in the middle of your team

they immediately knew what was going to happen, you were about to start isolating yourself.

they were having none of that.

Price had always kept a close eye on the family relations of his team members.

it was a security measure, after all, to make sure that not only they weren't targeted by dangerous people, but also to make sure they were no connected in any way to their missions.

but in your case it was different, he monitored your family to make sure they never stayed close to you for too long.

it seemed it hadn't been enough this time, and he saw your haggard state as the consequence of that failure.

he would definitely fix that

he began talking to both Laswell and his superiors to get you one of the smaller houses within base

even though you were unmarried and didn't have any children, he knew it would be impossible for those pesky family members to get close to your home without permission

your parents had managed to talk your landlord into giving them access to your apartment - that would not happen under Price's watch

he would actually blacklist them if he had the chance to do so

he wouldn't let you know he was trying to get you a house, at first - he didn't want you to feel like a burden

but he was not exactly subtle when he began asking what colors you preferred on your walls, if you minded only having a shower head or if you preferred a bathtub, etc

Soap wasn't subtle at all, oh no

boy got you hooked in a one-arm hug for as long as you'd let him

that could be a few minutes or all day long, he didn't mind one bit

endlessly squeezed and smooched on your hairline whenever he caught you lost in thought

definitely the one to (lovingly) manhandle you into a blanket burrito and snuggle you into his lap to watch movies

surprisingly a great cook, he would go all out and cook you whatever your comfort food was

it didn't matter if it was 3 AM

you would be fed, and you could almost taste the love he poured in it

definitely wore a 'kiss the cook' apron to make you giggle and try to get a smooch from you

Gaz is the king of self care

you would not let your skincare/hair routine go under his watch

he would do it for you if you didn't have the energy to do so

he would just sit you on the toilet and he'd take care of all the steps of your skincare routine

if he didn't have all the steps memorized, he definitely had a bulletpoint list of specific instructions to guide himself

same with your hair - trust this man with your hair, you won't regret it, ever

this man had magic hands for scalp massages fight me if you disagree

if you aren't comfortable being nude in front of him, he would simply put a chair in front of the sink like a makeshift hair wash basin and work like that

if you were comfortable being nude in front of him, he would make it into a full-body wash

after working with your hair, he would scrub your body down

every now and then he would massage your tired muscles while telling you how much he appreciated you as both his teammate and his friend

after shower cuddles were a must

you would very likely doze off in his arms while he held you impossibly close to him

Ghost didn't see himself as a person capable of comforting others

but all doubts flew through the window the moment he saw your downcast gaze and a tired hunch of your shoulders

at this point in time, you had become about 80% of the team's moral incentive

of course he knew it was quite unfair to dump all of that on you, he supposed you would have your down days too

but you were part of a team, and no one fought alone - be it terrorist organizations or their own inner demons

he would work alongside Price to get you a new living place

any person trying to ask you stupid and/or unwanted questions would find themselves at the other end of one of his famous death glares

or at the aim of his fist

when you approached him to pat him on the shoulder like always, pretending that everything was all right, he placed his own hand on your shoulder

he looked into your eyes and spoke to you with such sincerity that you were shaken to the core

"...You know that you are just as deserving of love as everyone else, right?"

moments later, you were clutching his middle, with your face buried in his chest while he hugged you tightly

he didn't mind that his shirt felt a little wetter with your tears

he focused on stroking your hair and rubbing your back, while glaring at anyone who dared to look at you questioningly

he would let you hug him until your arms fell off if that's what you needed

more cuddles!!

...he wouldn't mind it too much either if Soap and Gaz joined in a cuddle pile - he pretended to be annoyed, but he thought it felt nice

imagine how much nicer it would feel for you :)

#ask #answered #anonymous #nonnie ask #task force 141 headcanons #captain john price headcanons #john soap mactavish headcanons #simon ghost riley headcanons #kyle gaz garrick headcanons #gaz headcanons #captain price headcanons #ghost headcanons #soap headcanons #cod mw2 headcanons #cod mwii headcanons #cod mw2 #cod mwii

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7-wonders · 11 months ago

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what if jessamy lived and matthew was brought in by lucienne as extra help and matthew gets a little crush on jessamy and you notice how matthew seems to be strutting around a lot, his feathers are shiny and he always puffs out his little birdy chest when ever jessamy calls him handsome and theres something that seems familiar but you can't quite place it

until you call morpheus gorgeous when you see him in a new outfit and he somehow seems a little taller, his hair is extra fluffy and he has whatever the dream lords equivalent of a spring in his step is

When Morpheus finally freed himself from his captivity, Lucienne had been faced with a decision to make. Her Lord was determined to find his missing tools immediately, never mind the fact that he was still weak and without any sort of help. While she couldn't do anything about the first part, she could certainly assist with the second. Though Morpheus didn't approve (he was still traumatized by the death of Jessamy, but he would never admit it to anybody, least of all himself), he begrudgingly allowed this new raven, Matthew, to travel with him to Hell.

Imagine their surprise when Lucifer revealed they had taken Jessamy's soul for their own in the hopes that they could use it as a bargaining chip with the Lord of Dreams. This was unacceptable, and so a wager had been made. If Morpheus won The Oldest Game, he got his helm...and Jessamy. If Morpheus lost, then the demon Choronzon got...him.

Thankfully, the former had been the outcome, and Morpheus left Hell with his helm and one more raven than he entered with. But to say there had been some growing pains as the two Ravens of the Dreaming adjusted to both being the Ravens of the Dreaming would be a gross understatement.

That was then though, and this is now. By the time you came into the picture, there were hardly any signs at all that there had been animosity between Matthew and Jessamy. They worked together in harmony now, the perfect team. One could even call them friends...even if Matthew maybe had feelings that were a little more than friendly.

You're in the library with your two feathered friends when Jessamy's head perks up, an obvious sign that Morpheus is summoning her via the mental link he has with his ravens.

"That's me, then." She sighs as though it's a chore to have to go attend to Morpheus, but you know how much she enjoys it. How much she enjoys every moment of her second (third, really) chance at life.

"Official raven business?" you ask.

"The most official." She stands and shakes her feathers out, but stops before taking flight. "Matthew?"

He looks at her in surprise. "Yeah?"

"Your feathers look nice today."

"Oh! I—uh, I flew through a waterfall this morning because I wanted to try something new. Wasn't sure if it would work out."

"It certainly did."

Matthew tries to stutter out an answer. You can hear Jessamy laugh as she swoops off to catch up to Morpheus. If Matthew could blush, you're sure he would be.

He's still staring after her minutes after she's gone, and you can't help your amused smile. "You okay?"

"Absolutely." He nods, his chest puffed out in pride. You stifle a laugh and replace it with a hum, pulling your book up past your face so he can't see just how well you believe him.

These instances, of Jessamy playfully flirting with a head over heels Matthew, are not rare. She enjoys doing it, and who knows? Maybe she feels the same. Their routine is rather sweet, actually, but you can't help the weird sense of deja vu you get when you watch those two dance around each other. You've seen this act before, but where?

The next time you and Jessamy are together, you're both in a position that you did not ever think you'd find yourself in: watching Dream of the Endless play fashion show.

Normally, Morpheus just conjures up whatever look that he wants without a second thought. He can change his appearance at a whim, even though he prefers sticking to his familiar, all-black wardrobe. But this week, he's hosting his siblings. All of them, save his wayward brother, are to be in the Dreaming at the same time for the first time in centuries (Morpheus can't say for certain how long it's been, which is how you know it's been a long time). A "conclave of the Endless," he called it.

Weird way to say you're having a family dinner, but whatever.

Though he'll never admit it, he's nervous. Nervous about his siblings being in his realm, nervous about how the Dreaming looks after having spent so long returning it to its former glory prior to his imprisonment, nervous about proving himself and his power once more. This dinner matters to him, and since you can't be there to support him—he refuses to possibly put you in harm's way and/or at the mercy of cunning and powerful beings who enjoy making mortals their playthings, which you appreciate immensely—he's trying desperately to control the few things that he can, including his outfit choice for the evening.

And there have been a lot of potential choices. Seriously, he's tried on so many outfits that you're starting to lose count. Coats and cloaks, robes and rubies, boots and blacks. It's a dizzying blur by now, and Morpheus looks as done as you feel. He's nothing if not relentless though, so the rigamarole shall continue.

He turns to face you when he's settled on a new choice, and you both look at his outfit with the discerning eye of a critic appraising a work of art. After a few moments, Jessamy, sitting on the back of your chair, is the one to speak up first.

"The collar does not suit you, my Lord."

His gaze goes to you, and the helplessness in his eyes almost makes you say that Jessamy's wrong and you like the look. You'd be lying, though, and you like to think that a core tenet of your relationship is honesty. With that in mind, you grimace and shake your head.

"She's right," you begrudgingly agree.

Huffing is an action that's below Morpheus. It's a very mortal thing to do, so naturally the Ruler of the Nightmare Realms does not huff. If he were to pretend to huff, though, the way that he abruptly turns back around and sighs heavily through his nose would be a very good impression. Your lips twitch when you glance at Jessamy out of the corner of your eye only to see her pulling the exact same move towards you, but you stay silent and go back to the watching and waiting game.

About three outfit changes later, something clicks, and you sit up in your chair in excitement. "Ooh, that's it!"

"You're right," Jessamy echoes your earlier words, only this time in a far more positive connotation.

Morpheus raises an elegant brow. "Elaborate, please."

"That's your outfit for tomorrow," you insist. "You're gorgeous, my love."

He stops fussing with his outfit and looks at you through the mirror. "You truly think so?"

"You look so handsome in that outfit. I mean, you're handsome all the time, but c'mon!" You grin, because how can you not? He's one of the most attractive men (-shaped beings, if one were to be picky) you've ever met in your life, and he's yours.

He holds your gaze for a moment longer, as though attempting to detect any deceit from you, before inspecting his appearance one final time. With a nod and a very small, very self-satisfied smile, he says, "Then I shall wear this tomorrow."

"Perfect." Next to you, Jessamy sighs in relief, and you shoot her a furtive thumbs-up for a job well done.

Since your part in ensuring Morpheus has a successful dinner is complete, you leave the Dreaming hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. What this means is that you're expecting to fall asleep the day after the dinner is scheduled and walk into the worst hurricane that would ever be recorded were it in the Waking. Morpheus likes to act like he has no emotions, but the reality is quite the opposite. In fact, he has so many emotions, and they're all so strong. He just doesn't know how to deal with them, and chooses instead to hide them away until they burst.

Instead of the anticipated disaster zone, everything is...calm. Actually, it's a beautiful day. Think of the nicest spring day, and multiply it by at least 10 (maybe more). That's what this weather is. The sun is out and shining, the temperature is warm but not hot, and everything is in full bloom. Hell, there are actual flower petals dancing through the air right now. Flower petals!

You snag one of the petals and hold it gently between your thumb and forefinger, feeling the silkiness against your skin. "What kind of Disney movie am I in?" you mutter.

You feel Morpheus's presence behind you a mere moment before he asks, "What was that?"

Even with the environmental warning, he still makes you jump, and you turn around to face him. "Hi! How did it go?"

"Far better than I could have expected."

There's something...different about him. His hair looks especially messy and windswept (not that you're complaining, you love that), he's still wearing his special dinner outfit, and did he get taller? You feel like you have to look up just a little bit more to truly look at him so yeah, he definitely got taller.

"Good. I knew it would, though."

"You did?" he asks curiously.

"Of course. I had complete faith in you."

Those starry eyes of his twinkle brightly as he smirks at you, and the realization hits you like a truck. Now you know why Matthew's mannerisms have been so familiar! Because you've seen them before, and you're seeing them now. Morpheus thrives off of your compliments. How...interesting, and a theory that you need to test out immediately.

"I'm really proud of you, y'know." His lips turn upwards into something that's almost a smile, so you continue. "I know how hard this was for you, how much you worried, and you handled it beautifully."

The beautiful flowers surrounding you burst into the air, their petals falling down around you in the multitudes. You start to laugh, but Morpheus doesn't let you make another sound, instead ducking down (from his markedly taller height, mind you) to kiss you. Though you're caught off-guard, you quickly get with the program and return his affections.

"I would like to celebrate with you." He says before moving his lips to your ear, even though nobody around can hear him whisper, "In my chambers."

You pretend to think for a moment, because a moment's all you can spare. "I'm certainly not opposed to such plans."

He pulls you to him in a way that suggests you didn't really get a choice otherwise and grabs his sand from his robes. You press your lips together to hide your smile and happily hold onto him. Oh, you are so using this to your advantage from now on.

#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #morpheus imagine #is this good? really not sure

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honey-minded-hivemind · 1 month ago

Text

🐝🍯Escape From The Hive🥚🧪 Daily Antics of the Team, Before They Go Back To The Hives:

(Note: Katydid is Kitty; Nymph is Kurt; Phasmid is Pietro; Reader is Firefly; and Laura is Ladybird)

• The Team sleeps in a cuddle pile. Tails twined, wings overlapping, and bundled under a blanket or two, they stay warm at night and when it's cold

• Katydid likes to try and cook, but she is not a good cook; her food is hard, undercooked, and somehow burning, usually

• Nymph likes to sneak up on others, and sometimes does it without noticing

• Phasmid likes to have shiny, clean scales, and does not like dirt on his claws

• Ladybird is good at hunting

• Reader/Firefly acts older than they are

• Reader tells old stories of what the Team did when they were little dragonets

• Katydid is the oldest of the Team, but not by much; Nymph is second; Phasmid is third; Reader/Firefly is fourth; and Ladybird is last

• Reader likes to pick berries for their small group of friends/family to eat

• Katydid prefers fish over other types of meat

• Nymph likes to try new food and dishes

• Phasmid likes jewelry; so do Katydid and Firefly

• The Team tend to help out their small town at the edge of the SkyWing/SandWing/IceWing borders by catching prey, bringing in fresh berries, and collecting honey to sell at the markets

• The Team's family meals usually consist of: salmon glazed with lemon and herbs + rice pilaf; beef and potato stew; gumbo; applesauce and fresh blackberries or raspberries; roasted chicken with fresh sprouts; and chicken and rice soup with some onions and herbs mixed in

• They like to visit the beach sometimes, playing in the sand, building castles out of wet sand and seashells, playing in the tide pools, and searching for fish and shellfish in the shallow waters

• They sometimes make their own jewelry, paintings, or blankets, and sell them in the markets along with their baskets of berries and jars of honey and honeycombs

• They miss their old friends and family, even if they don't remember them well, or at all...

• Some of them might be related... by blood, or by adoption... but they don't know for sure...

• They make up stories late at night about their old home, and what their parents or friends or siblings or tribe might be like or do daily, and imagine if they're anything like them...

@sugar-soda @ainsellshadewalker @thewickedweiner

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #platonic yandere marvel x reader #platonic yandere xmen evolution #platonic yandere xmen evolution au #🐉🧬wings of fire/xmen crossover #🐉wings of fire au #🐝🍯escape from the hive🥚🧪 au

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starstruckbyacomet · 1 month ago

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On the Break-Up

Tarlos vs Tevan

People had mentioned that Tevan's break-up is similar with Tarlos', which may indicate a reunion in the near future. The only similarity I can think of is that both happened because one half of the pair wanted to move the relationship forward, while the other half was reluctant. On the other hand, I find several differences between the two which are quite alarming:

1)) Rafael Silva was/is a main cast. He wouldn't go anywhere. Lou is just a guest star.

2)) Tarlos is the only queer couple on Lone Star. 9-1-1 OG has already one queer couple: Henren. So far, I haven't found any shows marketed towards the general audience, which have more than one queer couples who got a happy ending.

3)) Both Tim and Oliver agree that Buck is always a bit promiscuous. This trait is even deliberately shown when Buck was tackily eyeing a woman in the middle of his anniversary dinner with Tommy! Neither TK nor Carlos has this trait. During 5 seasons of their up and down relationship, neither TK nor Carlos has ever shown attraction to other people. Tim also posted a video in his Facebook page about how a character shouldn't change so much on a TV show. It could be an indication that he has set Buck as an eternal bachelor, who was destined to always search for love, while bedding multiple love interests until the season finale.

4)) Tarlos' break up didn't feel out of character. Although it happened off screen, and the reason was disclosed much later in the storyline, the explanation made sense. On the other hand, Tevan's break up is out of character for everyone involved:

Tommy used to be very mindful about other people's feelings. In 7x04, he was aware that he had created a wedge between Buck and Eddie, so he visited Buck to clear the air. This Tommy wouldn't get into a relationship, if he knew he couldn't move to the next step.

Buck who had always been clinging and pursuing people who had left him (Abby, Maddie), would not let Tommy go without fighting for their relationship.

Bobby who has said Tommy was good for Buck, and Henren who have questioned Tommy about his intention with Buck, would not standby watching the break up without saying anything to either Buck or Tommy.

5)) Although in the middle of a break up, there was a sense of continuity in Tarlos' love story. We saw both TK and Carlos struggled with the break-up. We saw people around them were concerned and questioning, as if they want Tarlos to be back together. This doesn't happen in Tevan's break up. The only sign that Tommy has been struggling is #TommybubblesBuck. We see mostly only Buck is struggling, while people around him indicate that they want him to move on (by hiding his phone instead of encouraging him to talk to Tommy like an adult!). It feels like the purpose of showing how much Buck has been struggling is to remind the audience that Tommy is as important as Abby for Buck, because Buck was also struggling when Abby left.

6)) Buck didn't even seem struggling while he was interacting with his team or Brad on episode 8x08 "Wannabes". This is different with TK and Carlos who carried their feelings almost all the time during their break-up period.

7)) Overall, the way Tarlos' break up was executed more thoughtfully indicates that it is an important milestone in their continuing love story. Tevan's break-up seemed poorly written and rushly executed, as if just to put a lid on a box. It seemed that the way Tim viewed Tommy is similar like he viewed Gerard and Ortiz: as loose ends from the prior season which need to be tied up asap, before being discarded like used tissues. Tim even preferred to give more attention to Brad Torrence, his shiny new toy. This was not happened in Tarlos break up.

Despite all the discouraging signs, I couldn't put off the tiny hope which is still flickering in my heart. I love Tevan too much, and it feels like I have been fighting more for their relationship than for my own 😅. With all the above signs, I'm afraid that the only chance for their love story to continue is by:

keeping the rating/viewership low until Tevan reunited on screen.

#bucktommy #buck x tommy #buck tommy #tevan #kinkley #tommy kinard #lou ferrigno jr #911 discourse #antibuddie #anti buddie #thomas kinard #tommybubblesbuck

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monodramatic-cannibal · 4 months ago

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Just bought this adopt from @sanssupremacy (ARTWORK DONE BY THEM)

A little bit of lore I've come up with him, I'll edit this post and add more lore as I go along

more info/lore undercut

-Head canon voice: JW Francis - John, Take Me With You

More info on his design/him:

His height is 5’2

25 years old

AroAce, He/Him/They/Them/It/It’s

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His magic:

Due to being half Oni has more base attack/defense than a normal monster, is basically a boss monster.

Has lightning magic Will use this to push his body past what is capable, often to boost his speed able to move in a straight line almost like he’s teleporting.

Or using this magic to magnetize himself, to be able to repel him from something (almost like he’s flying away from it) or to be able to have himself float (though it’s hard for him to control without another force pushing him in a direction).

With this lightning magic he can also shoot lightning from his body, or create a field around his body so if he’s touched it shocks people, e.g. can go through metal to shock people if they get too close to him. He can also put this lighting into objects too, most commonly he will use the lighting with his club/kanabō.

With his magic he can also create a rope/wire (think of a slightly thicker version of Error’s strings), will use this in tandem with his speed, to be able to grapple onto something and make quick turns when using the lighting magic’s speed. Or will use this wire to grapple onto stuff while floating with his lighting magic to fling himself in that direction.

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Younger than a lot of the Sanses. So tends to also be more joyful than other Sanses too, as he hasn't experienced what others have.

Loves any sort of challenges or bets. Can often be swayed to do things if it's under the guise of a challenge/bet. Providing he likes what ever he'd get if he wins.

Loves fighting with a passion, will often jump head first into fights he knows he can win. Loves to start fights either they be physical or verbal. He will often go out of his way in aus to find people who like to train/fight and scrap with them in a friendly fashion. Often then treats them to food he makes as a thanks for training/fighting with him. Is always looking for new methods to fight, is always learning from other people, including how to fight in a team. Can often clash with a lot of peoples personalities due to how much he likes to fight. Especially will clash with people he doesn’t know well, if that person is around him semi often, but never makes an effort to get to know him it pisses him off and makes him often look for a reason to fight them. Mainly for a way to get anything from them.

Doesn't take too many things seriously. Preferring a more leisurely life, often runs away when situations get too serious for him. Very laid back, but energetic. Hates when things affect his ‘happy-go-lucky’ lifestyle, will often forget bad things that have happened/including peoples bad experiences (e.g. their fears and such). Nothing anyone does can really break him out of this mindset, nor will he ever really learn. This method of thinking for him is a coping strategy, since he is unsure on what he’s really doing with his life. So being some carefree idiot is all he really knows how to do, and for him, it's the one thing that makes him happy.

Only really motivated by fighting and food. Any other time he's lounging around. Shiny objects may also get him motivated, providing he deems it worthy of himself. Likes to receive food or anything particularly shiny as gifts, will often hype up whoever gives him things, e.g. calling them awesome and such.

Often seen either fighting, lounging around or cooking. It's pretty rare to see him doing anything else, and can often be seen as out of character for him. Since he hates doing anything else, especially if it's something that requires effort.

A good cook, due to his love of food he's always wanting to learn how to make new dishes. He himself mostly makes anything sweet, and can often be seen making or eating dango. Doesn't have a particular meal he likes. It's just whatever he's craving tends to be ingredients for food which he will then think off any food that has those ingredients in it and decides from there what to make.

Loud, both in his voice and personality. Will try to tone it back if someone asks him too, or he sees he's upsetting someone. But will often forget that he needs to tone it down and will slowly get louder as time goes by. He doesn’t mean anything by it, he’s just loud.

Is a sucker for loud music, or catchy music he can sing along too. Often he annoys people with his music taste, even though he doesn't mean to.

Is a semi-outcode and has a brother. His au was destroyed before the main parts of the au (what takes place in the game) could really happen. He fled to the omega timeline with his brother, but found he enjoyed exploring all the aus, leaving his brother behind with people he trusts. He rarely sees his brother anymore due to his brother not remembering him since he was so young when Tanue started to leave. So Tanue only hangs out with him from time to time.

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Tanue travels around with Nix-Ceto sometimes, often au hopping with him. Tanue doesn't have much of a goal in mind other than getting into battles. He will often cause problems on purpose. Often to annoy whoever is the royal guard captain of the au he's in. He doesn't mean any ill will, it's just most people/monsters don't want to fight just for the love of it.

Since Nix-Ceto can travel au to au without needing the help of anyone else Tanue basically uses Nix as an au taxi. That's mainly how their friendship started at first. But over time the two grew to being close friends, even if Tanue does cause problems for Nix.

Even though he travels around with Nix, and knows of Nix's motivation for trying to solve small problems around the multiverse, he couldn't care less about the Star-Sanses. Sure he respects Nix's adoration of them, but he personally has never met any of them. Plus he thinks he causes too much trouble for the Star-Sanses to like him if they did ever meet. He's fine with that though, as he doesn't care of others opinions of himself.

When traveling around with Nix-Ceto, will often bother him to take a break. Mainly because he wants to stop to make meals that may take time, or him genuinely wanting to hang out in an au, either him hanging out with Nix and whoever they're traveling with at that moment, or him going off to hang out with the inhabitants of the au.

Tends to get along well with anyone who is the au variant of Undyne (either it be Undyne or whoever is filling the role of the royal guard captain). Mostly due to his personality and his love for fighting. When hanging out with them it can get very loud. To add to this, he also really gets along with au variants of Papyrus (or whoever is filling in Paps role).

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Relationships/ (Friendships/etc) with other characters/thoughts on other characters: (will only write about my own ocs here, or fandom characters. Won’t write about others ocs due to not wanting to mischaracterize them)

Nix-Ceto: Tanue respects Nix. Sees Nix as a 'cool samurai guy', despite Nix telling him he isn't of the sort. Is willing to help Nix with any problems they encounter on their journey across the multiverse, as well as cook food on rest stops. He feels it's the least he could do for Nix. Is often the one to tell people Nix isn't as cold-hearted as he seems. Tanue sort of understands how Nix works in terms of emotions. But sometimes they may not see eye to eye, but both tend to work it out pretty quickly. Is often joking around with Nix, has noticed that Nix may stop joking around with him though if they’re near anyone who doesn’t understand/seen that side of Nix.

Yusuke: Doesn’t know him too well. Nix has mentioned him a few times, and he’s seen Nix hanging out with him in a café whenever they stop in the Omega Timeline. But has never interacted with him till Yusuke joined the group/team. Tried to scrap with Yusuke when they first met, thought of it like a friendly fight, but accidentally scared Yusuke, which Nix told him that Yusuke isn’t the fighting type of person, but was actually a super nervous/anxious person. Often forgets this fact and may get too loud around Yusuke. Yusuke avoids him, but he doesn’t mind too much because they can interact whenever he is quiet. Yusuke is nice enough to him and even helps him remember things from time to time. Likes how he can joke around with him.

#not my art #not my artwork #Tanue #ref #oc ref #oc reference #reference #oni #sans au #undertale au #undertale oc #utau #utmv #if the og artist wants me to take this down I will do! As this is their artwork!#also the artist is super nice people should go check them out! :DD #thank you so much to the artist. I hope to treat this oc well!! :DD!! This is the first ever adopt I've bought so I'm super excited #utau oc #ut aus #utau fanart

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pillowbugs · 5 months ago

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was thinking about who else besides emmet would be interesting to drop into hisui, preferably into a different faction from ingo... and then this happened. sorry skyla but i must hit you with the isekai beam

well, time for train man to get a plane rival, except neither of them remember what a train or plane are, so they argue over literally everything else. two old amnesiacs having some of the greatest beef within the clans, which is pretty funny when neither of them were actually born into the clans and they aren't even working in the same area. gaeric and melli are 300% done with their shit. (they're actually besties though)

team notes:

drifblim is a mon that skyla uses in some of the PWT tournaments - went with the shiny because the base colours are similar to swanna, like how gliscor and chandelure are both purple + black with yellow eyes. like gliscor, it is the team ace. (also based on another type of aircraft, in this case hot air balloons)

togekiss is a mon skyla uses in masters. was thinking about making it her ace for that reason (drifblim only appears in super postgame content so it might be more obscure) but remembered that it was already volo's ace.

yanmega kind of looks like a plane if you squint - especially the tip of the tail resembling a propeller.

rotom is a mon elesa uses in masters. skyla's just thinking of her wife here. rotom-fan is often memed for being flying type and having levitate, but 1) this is the game without abilities so the flying type actually helps, and 2) she's a flying gym leader, she's gotta commit even if she doesn't remember. (also propeller blades)

tornadus is another mon skyla uses in masters, in addition to all its other indirect connections to her: first seen near mistralton in bw, pure flying, found in alabaster icelands in l:a. let's just say she befriended it at some point similar to cogita and enamorus, and only unleashes it on people if they really, really want a challenge.

braviary is the noble* she is in charge of here, and the one unovan mon on her team. sorta. she does use a braviary in her PWT teams, albeit the other variant, so she's already experienced in rufflet care. also she flies around on braviary a lot, and tries to remember why soaring across the skies feels familiar.

(yes ik braviary (and sneasler) aren't officially nobles but so many people in the fandom call sneasler a noble that atp it's just easier to call the ride mons that)

#pokemon #submas #my art #pokemon black and white #pokemon legends arceus #gym leader skyla #elesa's absolutely going through it now #her gf and her close friend both got yeeted this time round

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thereareeyesinsidethetrees · 16 days ago

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pokemon teams for the pines family but there’s no way in hell ae’m remembering all thousand+ pokemon and also ae’m just kinda suggesting stuff that could work not necessarily sticking to a strict only-six rule

ford:

-hisuian zoroark. it is violent and aggressive to almost everything, but is extremely gentle and compassionate to those its close to. this is a really good representation for ford, because of his sense of paranoia and distrust and how deeply he cares for his family (ie. stan, mabel, and dipper)

-an eeveelution is a must with the stans. an espeon or umbreon could be really good picks for him (friendship based, either evolved during his time in gravity falls or during his paranoid or portal era). however, we would like to propose: a shiny eevee (cause. silver streak in hair) that, upon returning home, finally evolves into a leafeon, showing how he comes to see the forest of gravity falls as his true home

-stakataka. a creature from another dimension that shares the portal’s color scheme. plus, it has a mobile structure-like appearance, which can represent ford’s wandering across the multiverse, living in countless other dimensions throughout those thirty years

-for similar reasons, poipole would also be a good one for him. a little wanderer far from home

-corsola/cursola. a pokemon he got from glass shard beach, it was originally a corsola. however, upon exposure to the multiverse, it became a cursola. this pokemon is never used to fight, as he’s far too concerned with not letting its health get any worse. its condition improves a little upon setting sail on the stan o’ war ii

-unown because. yeah

-sigilyph. probably a pokemon he found while looking for anomalies in gravity falls’ forest

-chandelure. a ghostly chandelier that feeds off life energy. his used to feed off him just as much as anything else, but over the years they’ve grown closer and it prefers to dine on other creatures before chomping on him. it’s especially happy during their trip on the stan o’ war ii (it gets rewarded for draining fish of their life! how cool is that?). thinking ford got it during his whole haunted cabin escapade

-ceruledge. each stan got a charcadet from melody and soos as a going away present before they set sail. ford’s evolved into ceruledge!

stan:

-wishiwashi. a pokemon that is the weakest of all pokemon when in solo form, but is one of the strongest when in its school form. ae think this one is a good pick because it’s a good representation of the family man aspect of stan. something interesting about him is that he doesn’t fight back as hard when it’s only him on the line, but when those he cares about are involved he will kill the unkillable to keep them safe

-an eeveelution for each stan is a must. for stan, a usual choice is umbreon, but ae’m going to pick sylveon for this one. it’s a friendship evolution plus it’s a good way to show how, despite having a rough exterior and mask, stan is a lot softer when you really get to know him

-salandit. fiery little lizard with a built in bandanna and sneaky lil face. it likes to sleep under his fez while he gives tours. it also likes to sit on his shoulders when he’s not being mr. mystery

-nickit and theivul. yep

-lorantis. plant pretending to be a bug. this one is a double whammy!! its pretending to be something its not, plus plants are generally seen in a softer more gentle way than bugs, which tend to be seen as scary pests. something typically seen as soft pretending to be something more…scritchy-scratchy sharp and tough?

-krabby. a little crab he first got way back at glass shard beach. don’t ask him why it hasn’t evolved he won’t answer you

-clobbopus. beach boxing >:3

-litwick. he doesn’t know where this one came from. he just woke up one day and it was there. conveniently, he leaves out the part where this was only a few days after weirdmaggedon ended

-armarouge. each stan got a charcadet from melody and soos as a going away present before they set sail. stan’s evolved into armarouge!

mabel:

-zebstrika. an electric zebra that looks adorable, but is said to be aggressive. we picked this one because it shows how mabel has spunk and can be fiery, despite how she looks and acts

-ponyta. the only unicorn she likes, a fiery mane to represent her spunk too. it evolves into rapidash post canon, a representation of her accepting whatever the future may bring

-pumpkaboo. a gift from stan. a reference to the ‘pumpkin’ nickname he uses for her. (and, though he won’t admit, a living little reminder that he loves her and wants to keep her safe)

-shiny lechonk. waddles <3

-rowlet. a leafy little bird with smarts and a knack for long range weapons. a gift from ford before the mystery twins headed home. a reminder that mabel is smart and will always be a delight. and also that she should really hone her skills with weapons so she stops hitting things on accident. a message not to lose that spark

-turtwig. a little turtle that could carry the whole world on its back if only it was big enough. a gift from stan before the mystery twins headed home. a reminder that she is strong, to always weather the storm, and to keep that imagination a-flowing. a message not to lose that spark

dipper:

-pikipek! a little woodpecker-like creature to keep him company as he ventures through the gravity falls forest. its wide blue eyes to represent curiosity and wonder, traits it shares with dipper

-icecue. a gift from wendy after their talk where she explains that they can’t be together. the reasoning behind the pokemon? “stay cool, kid”.

-tyrogue. a gift from stan (thinking about the scene in stan’s dreamscape where he talks about wanting to toughen dipper up so he can fight back)

-sprigatito. a magical little cat. a gift from ford before the mystery twins headed home. a reminder that there will always be magic in the world, whether real or metaphorical. a message not to lose that spark

-cyndaquil. a fiery little critter with much potential. a gift from stan before the mystery twins headed home. a reminder that even in times that he feels weak, dipper is stronger than he knows. a message not to lose that spark

annnd bonus! shermie:

-solrock and lunala. these two are here to represent his lost brothers. solrock for stan and lunala for ford (both are very happy to finally meet the brothers they’re named after)

-glameow. he couldn’t save his brothers from having to live with filbrick, but maybe he could at least rescue their little family cat

-two cherrims, one permanently overcast and the other always sunny. to represent mabel and dipper

#ae remembered shiny leafeon with autumn leaf colors #ae don’t know why. maybe cause it’s a far superior shiny to what we got instead #ae’m gonna say that in the gravity falls x pokemon universe its shiny has autumn colors #gravity falls #ford pines #stan pines #mabel pines #dipper pines #shermie pines

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joaofelix70 · 1 year ago

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A CRESCENT LOVE, AN EPHEMERAL PASSION | joão félix sequeira.

summary: you and joão spent all the summer together. you even met his friends and brother. could this be the beginning of a crescent love or just an ephemeral passion? his friendship with his ex would ruin everything between the two of you?

author's notes: after the win against luxemburgo, where portugal national team set the record of goals, his ex just posted "mysterious" pics with floki, his dog. joão was also there, almost hidden, actually. we all know she always does it, never assuming anything maturely, but instigating the frustration of the fans who care about him and to make every gossip website and tv show talk about it, just like a teenager who wants attention would act. basically, this inspired me. i really don't hate anyone, by the way. even thought influencers who don't spread any impactful content and nepobabies with no talent and only standard beauty annoys me, i can't lie.

warnings: bad language (of course it's joão saying the words), chaotically humorous almost all the time, but also involving sadness and angst. implicit sex reference, i guess? maybe?

what do you feel when you hear my name? shame? embarrassment?

does your brain even bring you any sign or memory involving me?

do you ever think about me?

are your moments with her comparable to ours?

can we talk? can we communicate?

is it my fault? do you miss me?

your head was drunk for the whirlwinds of questions that piled up and get bigger, like waves. they seemed to be drowning you. the glowing light and peace of your woody brown gaze gives you triggers. his smile remains embedded, in your heart, an eternal home. the numbness and wrapping of his lips, every inch of his tanned skin and firm muscles being appreciated and admired by you. his hair was shiny, soft and full by the salty waters of the european beaches: always caressed for you. his laughs at you giving him the most silly and lazy hairstyles, with you pretending to be a professional who was filming your customer to tiktok.

“do that pose! yes, your hand against your face! now, give me that playboy eye. just like that! you’re doing amazing, sweetie!”

when you get carried away in the game ‘who am i?’ and tried so hard doing the mimes, jumping excitedly and demonstrating your animation in a loud tone, before covering your own mouth and feigning naturalness, just to repeat the same instant acts.

when you made joão watch your random dances as soon as you won at uno and he’d tell how hilarious you were. when you cooked your regional foods and desserts for félix, his brother who’s hugo, alex — the photographer — diogo from the movemind channel and all of his friends. when he used to hold your face, rest his touch on your waist and thighs. tracing his fingerprints across your scalp, reveling in the ethereal smell of your hair, laying his lips against your entire face and stature, exalting you completely: from your ears, neck, collarbone, belly, legs and even your feet. being a gentleman, joão opened the car door for you, he intertwined the hands of you both in every single opportunity and helped you eat: having the cutlery for you to open your mouth and giving you support with the napkin. when you did his goal celebration. when the two of you invented a handshake, along with various inside jokes. for example, when joão posted many videos of him swimming and playing in the ocean.

“hey, flounder! ‘the little mermaid’? i loved it!”

“why am i not your ariel, tho?”

“why you didn’t say you’d prefer to be eric of the real life?”

“give me some respect, i’m the protagonist of this shit!”

“slay, king!”

you remember singing the songs that played in his car in the most chaotic way, using his hand as a microphone and taking the opportunity to kiss all over it and his fancy bracelets. you offered him affection biting his skin and enjoyed acting like his personal masseuse. you called him ‘my prince of portugal’.

“please, don’t become a stranger.” your last words, face to face. the intensity of the summer weeks of vacation, which were already ending, consuming you.

“you know i’d never do that. look, you’re such a unique person, and even though we’re gonna go back to our busy routines, i still wanna keep you in my life. i still wanna be that close to you.” joão declared and they both found comfort in each other’s arms. his perfume granted the beg leave and penetrated your lungs, giving you life. you felt like you shouldn’t let it go, but there was nothing else to accomplish. you were single, so was he. you ask yourself if everything would be different. maybe if you had tried your lips once again: asking him to give a chance to them, to have more. to not leave what you went through, together, in the box of forgotten memories. would that really suffice, though?

"it's obvious that you’d choose the blonde influencer with light eyes, slender body and member of a rich family. the one who was with a formula 1 racer days before she went to meet you. before you just disappear from my life, without saying anything. the one that doesn't show an ounce of authenticity and, of course, affective responsibility. who am i in comparison to her?! right, joão?" your voice flashed the disparity of fragility and indignation, trembling hands clutching the phone.

“y/n, listen to me. you’d never understand it, okay? you’re not inside this relationship, me and her are. you’re seeing it from the outside, just like everyone else. yeah, she was hanging out and making out with other people. so was i with you. but then, some things changed.” john seemed to be busy. echoes of other people's voices ran through the call.

“nothing has happened between us since the vacation, joão. what doesn’t make sense because i thought you were liking me. i only think about you!” you vented out and received silence. his answers tried to become existent and complete. he stammered, the audible sound of his familiar backwards cap being pulled off and his honey-colored hair being rubbed against his own fingerprints.

“do you think i don’t like you? holy shit, y/n. i even thought we could have so much more. a future together and everything. i think about you and i swear in the name of my family, and i already said that they mean the fucking world to me. the thing is: there’s something that still keep me going back to her. i don’t know if it’s because i’m with her since i was younger, but…”

“joão, this is emotional dependence. i’m sorry to tell you this, however, it’s necessary. i care about you. you’re so internally and externally beautiful, precious, successful and talented. you deserve better!” you interrupted him, stepping back and forth.

“y/n, i love her. when i looked at you…”

“she’s all that you see, right?”

“hm… yeah…” félix found himself in a bind. paralyzed, he remained without an answer for a while. the coldness of the material of his gold necklace touches his tongue: a way to combat the nervousness that generates the gnawed nails.

“my toxic behavior wants to help and fix you so badly, but i know i can’t get more involved than that. i’m not the one for you.” the words reproduced by yourself reinforced the fragmentation of your heart.

“j, baby… are you coming or not? i’m waiting for you, floki is waiting for his dad!” you heard that female voice call to him and realized the way that just this factor made his breathing destabilize.

“i think this is officially the end of whatever we had, joão. goodbye!” your voice was unstable and he realized it: sharp as deep, transparent and suffocating waters.

“i wish you the best, y/n. i apologize for not being what you expected, what you needed, and…”

“caralho, joão! que merda! (holy fuck, joão! what the hell?). come on, give me your phone!” the girl began to rant. her heels against the floor were exclamatory. she was running out of patience.

the call is over. again, you were superimposed on the ocean of blazing tears. you tried to convince yourself that everything went the way it was supposed to be.

but was it for real?

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bardic-tales · 12 days ago

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Title: So This is Christmas?

Pairing: Bianca (f!OC) / Sephiroth (Sephica), Cloud / Tifa (Cloti)

Characters: Aurora (f!oc), Lucien (m!oc), Barret Wallace, Marlene Wallace, Aerith Gainsborough, Zack Fair, Angeal Hewley, Genesis Rhapsodos, Vincent Valentine

Rating: General

Word Count: 1679

Fandom: Final Fantasy 7

Setting: Redemption!AU

Warnings: Mild Language, themes of found family, holiday celebrations, children engaging in festive activities, and moments of warmth and healing. Readers who prefer darker or more action-driven narratives or dislike depictions of happiness and redemption might not enjoy this.

Summary: On a snowy Christmas Eve in the mountains, Sephiroth, Bianca, their twins, ex-SOLDIERs, and the AVALANCHE team come together in a cozy safe house to celebrate the season, sharing laughter, decorating a tree, and finding solace in the bonds of their makeshift family.

Author's Note: My redemption AU reimagines Final Fantasy VII with a canon-divergent storyline set in the author-created town of Rinnos. Sephiroth and Bianca meet as children and endure Hojo's experiments together. Bianca uses her demonic powers to shield Sephiroth from Jenova’s influence, preventing the Nibelheim Incident and shifting the timeline as they join AVALANCHE to fight Shinra. This AU explores themes of redemption, identity, and the power of emotional bonds, featuring altered character dynamics, such as Zack’s survival and a deeper alliance with AVALANCHE, while Hojo remains a central antagonist.

🎄🎅Merry Christmas to all my amazing followers and mutuals! Wishing you a wonderful holiday season (if you celebrate it) and an awesome 2025 filled with love, success, and boundless creativity.

Snowflakes danced in the crisp night air, blanketing the quiet village of Rinnos, high in the mountains between Junon and Midgar, in pristine white. The soft glow of lanterns lit the cobblestone streets. Their warmth reflected the spirit of Christmas Eve in the sleepy little village. Green wreathes hung on the front doors of each home, as the families that dwelt inside celebrated the coming of the holiday and the safety that their unusual mercenary troup which moved in years earlier provided from the monsters lurking higher up in the hills.

Inside a safe house nestled on the outskirts of town, laughter and the scent of mulled cider filled the warm, cozy living room. The holiday was always the same, even more so since the arrival of the twins, as the unusual group of friends and allies celebrated the holiday season together.

A massive fir tree stood proudly in the corner, its branches stretching upward as though eager to embrace the make-shift family gathered around it. The smell of Christmas wafted around the room: cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, vanilla, ginger, orange, wood smoke, and honey drifted from the pot simmering on the stove in the kitchen.

“Mama, can I put the star on top?!” Lucien, Sephiroth and Bianca’s raven-haired, indigo-eyed son, tugged on Bianca’s hand, his small frame bouncing with excitement. As he bounced, his tiny wings covered with black, white, and purple feathers swayed with his excitement.

“Not until we finish the ornaments, cherub,” Bianca replied with a smile, her indigo eyes twinkling from the dim light of the brass lanterns scattered around the room. She adjusted the white ribbon in her wavy black hair and gently placed a glittering silver snowflake on a branch.

“Then I want to do the shiny balls!” Aurora, Lucien’s twin sister, piped up, laughing. Her voice was as bubbly as her giggle. She gripped a red glass ornament in her tiny hands, her feline-like pupils shimmering under the tree lights. Her long, grayish-silver hair flowed down her back, curling around the black Christmas dress with silver angels embroidered on it.

“Careful, Aurora,” Sephiroth warned, his calm voice carrying a note of protectiveness as he crouched beside her. Dressed in a simple black sweater, his silver hair framed his striking face. He watched over his daughter and her exuberance that would even put Zack Fair to shame. “If it falls, it will shatter.”

Aurora pouted but nodded, holding the ornament close to her chest. Nearby, Marlene clapped her hands with excitement, her dark locks bouncing after she dug through the box of baubles. “I found one that looks like a bunny!” she exclaimed, holding up a white ceramic ornament.

“Let’s hang it together!” Aurora said, running over to her friend. The two girls giggled as they carefully placed the ornament on the tree. As the young angel and human girl raced towards the tree, Aurora’s silver ribbon wrapped around her waist fluttered behind her. They carefully placed both ornaments on one of the lower branches.

“Shit.” Across the room, Barret grumbled as he untangled a mess of stringed lights with help from his prosthetic hand. “Damn Shinra can build a reactor that sucks the life outta the Planet, but they can’t make lights that don’t get all knotted up.”

Zack chuckled, his spiky black hair shaking as he crouched beside Barret to help. “Don’t worry, big guy. We’ve got this. Angeal taught me how to handle a mess. Back in the day, he called it ‘puppy duty.’”

“Puppy duty?” Tifa asked, raising an eyebrow as she handed Aerith a box of ornaments. The martial artist wore a red sweater adorned with snowflakes. Her dark hair tied in its usual thick, elaborate ponytail with the strands being held by a red ribbon at the bottom.

“It’s a long story,” Angeal said. He stood by the fireplace, carefully hanging colorful stockings and counting the number of them: one stocking for each member of their family. His calm demeanor and broad shoulders brought an air of stability to the bustling room.

“LOVELESS speaks of this very moment,” Genesis declared dramatically from the sofa, where he lounged admiring the tree with the well-worn book with its faded red cover laying over his stomach. “‘Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess; we seek it thus, and take to the sky—’”

“Genesis, we’ve heard it a thousand times,” Bianca interrupted, though her tone carried a hint of amusement. She turned from the tree and looked to the man who became like a brother to her. “You’re going to scare the children.”

Lucien gasped, his eyes wide. “What’s LOVELESS, Uncle Gen?”

“It’s a poem!” Genesis replied with a flourish, as though presenting a grand revelation. “A masterpiece—perhaps too advanced for you little one, but one day you’ll understand its brilliance.”

Aurora giggled. “You’re funny, Uncle Gen-Gen!”

“Can you teach us the poem, Uncle Gen?” Lucien stared at the red-headed ex-SOLDIER with his puppy-dog eyes and his rosy, cheeks that still were round due to baby fat. “Please.”

Genesis looked to Angeal and Sephiroth, smirking. “At least someone appreciates my talents.”

“That’s because you haven’t beaten it into their heads yet,” Sephiroth scoffed.

Aerith knelt by the twins and Marlene, offering them ornaments shaped like tiny animals. “Here, you can hang these next. Just pick strong branches, okay?”

“Thank you, Auntie Aerith!” The twins chorused, each carefully placing an ornament. Lucien approached the tree, a determined look on his face as he picked the perfect branch to hang the white chocobo ceramic he was given. In that moment, he looked like a tiny, darked-haired Sephiroth with his black dress suit and matching leather boots.

Barret snorted. “Kids are already callin’ you aunt and uncle, huh? Guess y’all really are part of the family now.”

Sephiroth met Barret’s gaze, a flicker of surprise in his cyan eyes. “It’s… appreciated,” he said, his voice softer than even its usual softness.

“Well, don’t get too cozy,” Barret grumbled. “Still ain’t forgiven Shinra for what they did. But I’ll admit. You’re doin’ right by AVALANCHE now.”

Bianca watched the exchange. A spark of gratitude warmed her chest. After their escape from Shinra, she never thought she and Sephiroth would have found a place to call home. Now, they had their friends and their children: a dysfunctional at times family but family, none-the-less.

“It means a lot, Barret,” she said sincerely. “We’re trying to make things right.”

“Mommy, Daddy, look!” Lucien and Aurora exclaimed in unison, pointing to the tree. The lights Zack and Barret had untangled now sparkled across the branches, reflecting off the ornaments with a magical glow.

“It’s beautiful,” Tifa said, her voice filled with wonder, stepping closer with Cloud beside her.

Cloud smiled softly, his bright blue eyes twinkling in the warm light. His usually shy demeanor was absent tonight, the joy of the season evident in the way he watched the children and their excitement.

“Yeah. Looks great.”

“We’re not done yet.” Bianca picked up the shining gold star and handed it to Sephiroth. “Would you do the honors?”

Sephiroth hesitated, his gaze flickering to the twins, Marlene, and then to Bianca. Slowly, he nodded and lifted Lucien onto his shoulders. “Hold on tight,” he instructed, his hands steady on Lucien’s knees as Zack guided the boy to place the star atop the tree.

“I did it!” Lucien cheered as Sephiroth lowered him back to the ground. Aurora and Marlene hugged him. The three children giggled with joy.

Cloud chuckled softly, stepping closer to Tifa. "You think they'll remember this when they're older?" he asked, his voice soft as he watched the kids play.

“I think they'll always remember this night," Tifa replied, her hand resting gently on his arm. "It's a new beginning for all of us.”

Vincent Valentine, standing quietly near the fireplace with Angeal, regarded the scene with a subtle smile on his lips. His crimson eyes, usually so distant and guarded, softened as he observed the laughter, the love, the joy that filled the room. It was a warmth he hadn’t experienced in a long time, and it stirred something deep within him.

His once solitary path, marked by loss and regret, had changed since meeting this group. Bianca, especially, had reminded him that there could still be hope, that redemption was not as out of reach as he’d believed.

“Everything looks wonderful,” Vincent said in his low, gravelly voice, drawing the attention of the others. His presence had become familiar over the years, and though his words were few, they always carried weight.

Bianca smiled warmly at him. “Thank you, Vincent. You’re part of this too, you know.”

The former Turk inclined his head slightly, a small, rare acknowledgment of her words. “I don’t deserve such kindness, but it’s appreciated.”

“I think you deserve it more than you know,” Bianca said, her voice gentle. “You’ve helped us all so much.”

Vincent’s gaze lingered on the children. His thoughts drifted. He had a past of his own, one marked by dark memories of being used as a weapon, of being trapped in an endless cycle of vengeance and mourning his love. But here, in this moment, there was peace. There was a family. He had come to see all of them as his own, especially Bianca and Sephiroth, whose struggles mirrored his own in so many ways.

“You’re part of our family now,” Aerith chimed in from across the room. “None of this would’ve been possible without you.”

Vincent nodded but didn’t speak. His heart was full of something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time. It was a sense of belonging.

“Merry Christmas everyone,” Bianca said, her eyes filled with sincerity.

“Merry Christmas,” the others echoed.

And as the night wore on, with laughter and joy filling the room and the snow continuing to fall outside, it was clear that this Christmas—this moment—was one they would all carry with them. It was a reminder of the family they had become and the love they had found in each other.

tagging some fellow mutuals. Happy holidays. Thank you all for showing interest in my Bianca. I can't wait to see what 2025 has in store for each of you.

@asirensrage @themaradwrites @whatwedointhecraft @serenofroses @megandaisy9

@watermeezer

@seastarblue @prehistoric-creatures @creativechaosqueen

@chickensarentcheap @arrthurpendragon

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