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bunnysdaydreams · 9 days ago

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Autistic femreader!xSimon “Ghost” Riley part1

A/N: I’m writing this from my personal experience of living on the spectrum. Reminder Autism is a spectrum and looks/feels different for everyone.

You worked for a company that had a contract with the military. You lived your life in a world of 0s and 1s. You mostly coded programs to make operations easier and occasionally you were tech support. You had your own office on base and by office it was more of a supply closet. You didn’t mind it though, it just meant you were away from other people and the criminal offensive overhead lights. You had some cool tone soft lights on the walls, the room was never to hot, genuinely people left you alone. It was enjoyable and just what you needed.

Everyday was the same for you. Wake up, yoga to help your joints because of the hyper mobility, eat your banana and peanut butter toast,feed cat, get dressed in your soft business slacks and blouse with your airsole vans, drive to work because public transportation is a nightmare, sign in go to office set your bags down and check your emails before you start working on the current assignment. You have no qualms about your life. You stopped trying to date years ago when people would hear autism and automatically think the worse or just couldn’t hang. You didn’t need them you were perfectly content with it just being you and your cat Pookie for the rest of your life.

This day started out just like any other day then right around 11:30am you get a phone call. No one ever calls. You answer the call and a gruff voice is on the other end. “Hello is this the tech person. I was told to call you for help. One of my sargents opened an email and now all of our computers are down.” Oh no when they opened that email it let in a Trojan Horse virus. Looks like you’ll have to skip lunch, “I can help. What building are you in? Also I need you to unplug everything.”

“We are in building T on the fourth floor. Tell the front that Captain Price sent for you.” The captain hangs up and you grab your laptop bag and head out the door. You walk through the base from building C to building T with your noise dampening ear plugs and sunglasses on. You walk in tell the front desk lady and get a key card up. Wow they must be really important people with really important information for you to need a key card to access their floor.

You walk off the elevator and are greeted by four people. The first person is wearing what looks like a fishing hat, the second person and ball cap on backwards, the third person has a mohawk, and the last person has on a skull balaclava. “Hello, I’m Captain Price and these are my men. Thank you for coming all this way to help us. All the other tech people who are enlisted are currently busy so I was told you would be able to help. It’s very nice to meet you.” You shake his hand quickly out of societal expectation but you look just beyond his head so he thinks you are looking him in the eye.

“So what computer opened the email. That is the main one I need to work off of.” You get pointed to a desk that read MacTavish on the name plate. You sit down and pull out your laptop. You plug in the laptop to the desktop and start to work on getting rid of the virus and rebuilding a much stronger firewall. The mohawk man comes close to you and looks at you working. You understand the curiosity this isn’t something they see everyday. You pick through thousands of lines of code that only make sense to you.

“Cap’n said something about a Trojan. I didn’t know Trojan came in virus form, I’m familiar with their original use.” The mohawk man tries to talk to you, you can see him wiggle his eyebrows on your computer screen. Without looking up from your laptop, “Technically the original use was when the Greeks tried to enter the unimpenetrable city of Troy. The Greeks built this big hallow horse and pushed it to the front gates of city. They said it was a gift to the goddess Athena. When really the horse was filled with soldiers and when the horse was inside the city gates the soldiers hiding inside leaped out and attacked.” You see his face twist in confusion. Did you miss a social cue. You just wanted him to have the proper story of a Trojan. The original use was never a condom but a war tactic. Wouldn’t they fine that amusing?

It takes a few hours but everything is back up and running. You explain to them all to not open weird emails with subject lines that are too good to be true. As you walk to the elevator you notice the one wearing a mask is following you. You press the down button to call the elevator and turn to him. “Did you need anything else before I leave sir?”

“No, but I’ll walk you back to your building. It’s the least we can do.” You nod and turn back to face the elevator. You both enter in and he beats you to pressing the ground floor button.

Simon was intrigued to say the less about you. You walked in and didn’t seemed phased about anything you saw. You didn’t even blush even soap tried to flirt with you. Your long hair was pulled back, you put on your glasses when you used your laptop. You had a tendency to nibble on your bottom lip. The whole time you worked it was like you were in a trance. So focus you didn’t care that they were all watching you work. In the elevator you started to rock on your feet and you shook your hands out like when you were trying to shake water off of them.

As he walked you back to your building he noticed how you would tap each finger to your thumb as you walked and how you always kept on looking around. “My name is Simon Riley but most people call me Ghost.” He decided to speak first. You looked up at him quickly and then back down.

“Ummm ok. That’s a cool nickname I think.” He huffs out a laugh. He wants to correct you but figures it won’t do much good. He hears a grumbling sounds and asks if you are hungry. “My lunch was supposed to be at 12:00 but now it’s almost 16:00. I can’t eat lunch this late or I won’t be hungry for dinner at 19:00. So I’ll just eat the apples I packed.” You have an eating schedule that you abide by. How peculiar? He wants to know more but that is for another day as you both approach your building.

A few days after the virus incident Simon was still having a hard time getting you off his mind. Who was this brilliant woman. He walks to your building and ask around for where you might be. He walks up to your office door and walks in. You are eating your lunch and you look up mid bite and drop your fork. “Is there something wrong Mister Ghost?” You ask him trying to keep your voice even and not seem upset that your lunch is disturbed. He shakes his head and looks around your small office. The lights you have up around the room. Your super organized desk, with strawberry themed desk mat and stationery,the jacket that hangs perfectly by the door that also has strawberry print on it. Actually there are strawberry things everywhere on her desk. What he doesn’t find are windows.

“You write computer code and are a genius behind a computer. Why do they keep you in a closet?” It’s bad enough that the room is so small at least a window would make it seem bigger.

“It was the office I was providing. Also I don’t mind not having windows or over head lights. This room is sufficient to get my job done. Now if you don’t have any technical issues I would like to get back to lunch.” You are already kinda mad that this giant man came in without knocking but now his disturbance is shorting the time you have after eating to read. Your 35 mins of escape before you go back to your computer.

Simon apologizes and walks out. When he gets to the mess hall to meet the others for lunch he realizes that you brought lunch from home and that he has never seen you in the mess hall or around base at all. Now he really wants to uncover the women who doesn’t mind being stuffed in a glorified closet who is obsessed with strawberries.

@hungrysnail69 your post got me to actually want to write this idea finally.

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bunnysdaydreams · 19 days ago

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Collector- Part 2

Summary: If Price is going to get you on the team, he needs to take care of you. Building bonds with dragon hybrids isn't easy, but you're already very attached to them. The team may not know why, but they are loving what it means to be a part of your horde.

"These do not fit." You stuck your head out of the humvee, one of your horns scracthing the paint which causes you to flinch your head slightly.

"What? What do you mean they don't fit?" Price asks in concern as he opens the back door a little further. He'd grabbed Simon's clothes because he could tell you were tall, but his eyes widened when he truly took in your size.

The shirt was almost a crop top, the scales running across your belly were visable, and the pants didn't zip or button, just barely stretching over your legs. You lean back into the car, your head almost brushing the roof even though you were sitting on the floor.

"You're fucking massive, kid." He sighs as he stares at you. Your chest puffs immediately at that, your tail swishing as you let out a puff of smoke.

"Yes, yes, am. You have other clothes?" You ask sweetly as you try to push open the door. Price lets the door open so that you can get out, watching you stand to full height. You were easily a foot and a half taller than Simon.

"We need to special order you some. Let's get you inside."

"How does a dragon horde people?" Johnny wonders out loud for the second time today. "Jewlery and rocks and stuff make sense. They can keep that stuff in their room. But us?" He turns to Simon and nudges him with his head. "What do you think?"

Johnny was a Komodo dragon hybrid, which meant he and Simon often sun bathed together like they were doing now. Simon lets out a low growl of annoyance, cracking open one eye to look at Johnny. He would've gotten up and moved, but Johnny had draped across his back to pin him down.

"I don't know, Johnny... All I know is that they're big as hell."

"Bigger than you, L.T?"

"Yeah. By at least a foot. Price tried to give them my clothes, and it looked like toddler clothes." Simon sighs and lets his eye fall shut again, hoping that Johnny would settle down and go to sleep.

That is until the weight of his compainion was lifted right off of him, his eyes shooting open and going to stand up. A large hand was placed on his lower back, grabbing the back of his shirt and lifting him to his feet.

"Hey! You can't just move us around!" Johnny grumbles indignantly, laying cradled in one of his arms. "We were comfortable." You grunt quietly, an apology as you let Simon's shirt go.

"Too cold." You huff at him as you set him on his feet and lay down on the concrete. You patted your stomach, which was still exposed from the short shirt. "Lay here... Fire makes me warmer." You explain quietly as you pat your scaled stomach.

"Is this part of hording?" Johnny asks, already laying down and resting his head on your stomach. He let out a low groan of content, rubbing his chin against you scales.

"Yes." You're eyes flick up to Simon, letting out a small rumble. "Lie down. Too cold." You grunt, and your tail wraps easily around his ankle. Simon sighs and lowers back down, laying on top of you and Johnny. He lets out a long sigh, body melting over you as your body radiates some warmth. Your tail wraps around them, curling tight to hold them close to your warmth. A plume of smoke happily curls into the air.

"How long were you at that base?" Johnny asks after a few moments of soaking up your warmth, looking at you curiously.

"Don't know. Was caught full form. Stayed full form after. Can't tell time like that." Your speech was blunt and clumsy, and Simon wonders if it's a side effect of being in full form for a prolonged period of time.

"Well, you don't have to do anything just yet except maybe some paperwork and physical exams." Simon explains a hand absently coming up to stroke your tail. "Where are your wings? Don't dragon hybrids keep their wings if they have them?" he asks, having questions of his own.

You let out another plume of smoke. "My arms are wings. No arms full form. No wings this form." Johnny nods against your stomach, which makes you rumble softly.

"Why do you horde people? Do you horde the regular stuff, too?" Johnny asks after another long moment of cuddling. Your eyes were shut, and you didn't respond at first, which made Simon think you were asleep. You wrap your tail around his hand, though, and he feels the tip of it press against his pulse point.

"Don't know. Want people close. Rocks are good. No gold." You wrinkle your nose when you say that as you trail a hand to Johnny's pulse, pressing you thumb over the pulse point gently. Simon felt himself bristling slightly at the hand on Johnny's neck, but you rumble in satisfaction as you release him.

The three of you fall silent, soaking up the sun and the warmth you radiate. Simon was digging through all his dragon knowledge, but he knew that full shifters sometimes had stronger instincts. He notes to himself to check out some information of Wyverns before drifting into a light sleep.

You watch over them carefully, watching their breathing change as they eventually fall asleep. You rumble happily as they do, eyes shutting as well to enjoy the afternoon sun.

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bunnysdaydreams · 19 days ago

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Collector- Part 1

Summary: When raiding a base for hostages, team 141 finds something they didn't bargin for. A dragon hybrid, one capable of shifting into a full form dragon. They plan on taking you back to base and maybe transfering you somewhere you'd be more useful. You aren't getting seperated from your new hoard.

Soap knew this operation was bigger problem then he'd been briefed for when the door by his head shoots straight off its hinges. The metal door, dented in the middle and rattling on the ground, was smoking. Before he could pull back from the now open room, he saw you.

A Wyvern dragon.

You turn your head to face him, smoke curling from your nose as you crawl from the room that once held you. Your winged arms pull you forward, your large maw swinging open like you were going to pick him up in your jaws when commotion down the hall startles you.

"Wait!" Soap cries out, noticing his team behind you with their guns raised. "Don't shoot! Don't!" He shrieks as he scrambles in front of your giagantic body. Your chest rumbles, grabbing hold of Soap's vest and pulling him back toward you.

Price switches his gun out for a tranquilizer, shoot two darts into the side of your neck. You let go of Soap's vest, snarling loudly and stumbling away from the group. You angrily shook the darts off, but the effects were already taking hold. Your body shrank slowly, bones creaking and snapping until you collapsed on the ground.

Much smaller, more human looking, and blessedly unconcious.

"No wonder they guarded this place so much." Price murmers as he studies your sleeping form. He'd managed to lay you down in the humvee, though they'd tied your wrists and ankles together in case you woke up violent. That wouldn't do much if you shifted back to full sized form, but it made them more at ease. "A dragon hybrid. One with full shifting abilities... Why haven't we seen them in action yet?"

"Dragons aren't tamable." Simon pipes up. Being a Drake dragon hybrid, he knew a little about dragon hybrids but he'd never seen a Wyvern before. "No matter how long or how hard you try." Price catches his eye, smiling a little.

Price hadn't 'tamed' Simon. He wasn't stupid enough to believe that he had, but he'd built a respectful, loyal bond with him. "Do you think we could have a second dragon on the team?" Kyle pipes up next, his large heron wings fidgeting in excietment. If there was another winged team member, he could have a flying buddy.

"Laswell might want to transfer them somewhere else. Las Almas might do well with a dragon hybrid." Price hums as the humvee eventually rolls to a stop at base. "I'll talk to her about a transfer-"

"No."

All four men jump at the sound of your voice. Your eyes popped open, body wiggling easily into a seated position. Your body was littered in patches of scales and two horns curve from your temples, pointed backwards. You smile a little, with a few too many sharp teeth, looking at the tall polar bear hybrid in front of you.

"No what, Wyvern?" Simon asks curiously as he leans close.

"No transfer." The zip ties holding your arms were flimsy, and you easily broke them so you could reach up and grab Simons vest. "My hoard."

"You can't-"

"Mine..." Your growl shook the humvee, it was felt more then it was heard, and the men fell silent. There was no more offer of you being transfered, and Price makes you stay in the humvee to get you some clothes.

"Hoard? Like, their dragon collection?" Soap pipes up, Simon staying behind at Price's request. "Simon's never hoarded us before. Are they gonna hoard us?"

"I don't know. I'll ask Laswell for some information. In the mean time, you two clean out a barrack so they have somewhere to sleep." Price orders as he reaches his office, grabbing a spare uniform that looked like it would fit you.

"Yes sir!" The two men agree, heading off to complete their assigned task. Price heads back to the humvee with the clothes in hand. A Wyvern, full dragon shifter... This was going to be an intresting adjustment.

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bunnysdaydreams · 19 days ago

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Monster 141 x Borrower! Reader; Part 3

Gender neutral reader, mouse-like borrowers, reader has a tail, g/t elements, Werewolf Soap, Dragon Price, Wraith Ghost, Harpy Gaz, Sorceress Laswell; Borrowers are minor fae closer to physical spirits; seen as good fortune.

"Easy, easy, I forget not everyone's raised with the Fair Folk!" Soap rumbled, glancing at Gaz and Price as he grinned, his tail thumping against the seat of the humvee at just the thought, "We've got a wee Borrower livin' with us!"

ㅤㅤ"Soap, that... explains absolutely nothing. What the fuck are you jabbering about? Do we need to get you checked by medical as soon as we arrive?" Gaz deadpanned, his talons tapping at the floor of the vehicle, tink tink tink. Soap rolled his eyes, playfully shoving the Harpy and ignoring the annoyed chirp it got him.

ㅤㅤ"Ach, away an' bile yer heid," The werewolf snorted, settling back in his seat. Price, listening in from the driver's seat- the only one that can comfortably fit his wing and tail without smacking the others- glanced back at Soap through the rearview mirror, raising an eyebrow.

ㅤㅤ"What, we got a fairy livin' in our walls?" He rumbled, Ghost chuckling slightly and tacking on, "Should we be expecting a visit from Tinkerbell, then?" making Soap laugh.

ㅤㅤ"Ha, true Folk make Tinkerbell look like a daydream! An' naw, not a faerie, a Borrower! They're ah, closer to mortal than fae if I remember right," Soap corrected, his arms crossing across his chest as his head tilted slightly, "A sub-race if ye will, from bloodlines crossin' with mortal monsters an' humans. They're wee little fae, but still terrifyin' if ye piss em off- move into existin' homes and dwellings, an' as long as ya feed em and treat em nice, they'll keep the house all tidy an' shit! Cute lil' things, too," He had a stupid, almost dreamy grin on his face by the end, thinking back to the few times he'd been lucky enough to catch glimpses of the Borrowers that lived in his family home.

ㅤㅤ"Wait, how small are we talking? I think I'd have noticed if some three-foot elf was doing dishes every night," Ghost grunted, raising an eyebrow under his balaclava.

ㅤㅤ"Smaller than three feet, I can tell ye that much," The Scot snorted, shaking his head and gesturing as he spoke, "They're only a few inches tall, smaller than my hand. And before ye ask, no, I've no fuckin' clue how they clean things, never seen one at work before- wee darlin's are shy, don't like bein' seen. But I've heard they're supposed to look like mice but human-ish- long thin tails with fur at the tip, ears, paws, the works,"

ㅤㅤ"So what do they actually do, other than just clean?" Gaz asked, curiosity piqued. It might've just been the bird hindbrain, but he found the idea of a little mouse scurrying around his living space to be almost cute. "You said they do other stuff too?"

ㅤㅤ"Aye, but part of it depends on level of favors; No Fae deals for free, Mortal-blooded or not. Ye are actually hellishly lucky that our little guest didn't take offense to the mouse traps- Borrowers are luck granters, could've made our lives hell on earth if they'd been even a little less forgiving," The werewolf remarked, pointedly looking at Gaz, who pretended to be fascinated by the scenery outside the window, "But, more things given, more things gained. Before I got rid of those traps, little guest was just living off of scraps and essentially doin' the bare minimum t' make up for stayin' with us,"

ㅤㅤ"And then they started doing more once you began leaving them those plates of snacks," Ghost finished, his jaw shifting thoughtfully, "I knew I wasn't going insane when I kept finding my phone plugged in, or when that email popped up on my computer," Gaz nodded in agreement.

ㅤㅤ"I don't think my room's ever been this clean or organized before they moved in," He mused, resting his head on his palm.

ㅤㅤ"They won't be a risk, will they, Soap?" Price asked from up front, meeting the wolf's eyes in the rearview mirror. His tone was light, but his eyes were steely cold. 'They won't compromise our safety, will they? Will I need to get rid of them one day, to keep you boys safe?' Soap shook his head, having to keep his ears from pinning back at the thought.

ㅤㅤ"Ach, no sir, not at all," He answered firmly, knowing the dragon was just being cautious, "Borrowers are ah, wouldnae say possessive exactly, but pretty damn close." He said with a scratch at his chin, before a chuckle bubbled out of him, "If the wee thing's hung around this long even with traps, I wouldnae be shocked to find peepholes poked in the ceilin' or perches on bookshelves," A moment of silence settled over the car, each of them turning to Price. As much as Soap would love to keep the little one around, it was ultimately up to the Dragon as to whether they'd be allowed to stay. Price thought it over for several minutes, his jaw shifting as he debated the merits of it, each minute that ticked over without him speaking bringing a new level of unease to Soap. Finally, the man sighed, looking in the rearview mirror.

ㅤㅤ"After this mission, we'll have to stop by a shop and get our little roommate a proper welcome present," He chuckled as Soap immediately broke into a cheer, pretending to not notice the small fist pump Gaz gave as well. If the Borrower made the boys this happy, then he'd make sure to keep them around.

ㅤㅤTrue to his word, Price made sure to stop by a few shops on their way back to base, letting the boys grab a few things they thought the Borrower might take a shine to. Small candies (Price), exotic meats (Soap), sample fabrics from the craft store (Ghost)- don't look at him like that, he doesn't fucking know what to get a rat-, and a ball of yarn (Gaz) "Really? yarn? what, are they gonna knit themself a tiny sweater?... that'd actually be pretty cute," "No, it's for if they need materials for a nest!... Oi, mice nest, why wouldn't a mouse-person nest too?!".

ㅤㅤGetting back to base, Soap barely took the time to shower before he was bolting down the hall towards the kitchen, meats clutched in his claws as he rushed to set up a snack plate. He'd asked Laswell to stop by while they were gone and feed the wee darlin, so he was hoping the little one wouldn't be too upset that they'd left, and if they were, that the gifts could get them back into their good graces.

ㅤㅤTail wagging, Soap skidded into the kitchen and immediately started making a snack tray, humming to himself as he went through the routine motions. His ears flicked, and he looked up, just in time to catch a plastic cup as it wobbled itself off the shelf and almost hit him square in the head. Shit, they were mad.

ㅤㅤ"Ach, sorry, m'eudail! We didnae mean to be gone fer so long! I thought Laswell came by to do the offerin'??" He sputtered, setting the cup down. Another one came down, a ceramic mug this time, and he yelped as he barely caught it before it could shatter against the countertop. "Alright, alright! Okay, issue found. Hm." He carefully set the mug down, thinking for a moment. Hopefully they'd be willing to stick around bit more to communicate- this was the most he'd ever seen them outright influence something.

ㅤㅤ"Aight. If yer angry cause of bein' gone, move the plastic one again," Soap announced, tapping a claw against the plastic cup, before tapping against the mug, "But if its somethin with Laswell, move the mug-" The mug skidded across the counter before Soap could even finish speaking, leaving the werewolf a bit baffled. He had very clearly seen it just,,, move on its own. He blinked once, twice, shaking his head and deciding he'd think harder about it later. "Aight! Erm, I dunno how tae figure out what's wrong, but will giving you a warning if Laswell's coming over make ye feel better?" A few moments of nothing, and for a second Soap feared they'd stopped answering him, before the mug scooted back over to him, letting him pick it up and put it away. "Right, that's decided! If we ever need tae have Laswell over, i'll give ye a heads up,"

ㅤㅤThe cups in the cabinet rattled overhead, but didn't fall. Soap sighed in relief, and made sure to add more food to the snack plate. He didn't know what the little one's issue with Laswell was, but he hoped they wouldn't try waging a turf war with her.

ㅤㅤThe new offerings were put out, meats and candies disappearing overnight, making Price puff up in a bit of pride that his gifts had been accepted. Never ones to be left out, Ghost and Gaz set out their offerings next.

ㅤㅤThe yarn strands and fabric squares didn't disappear like the candies did, being shuffled around and arranged in a neater fashion, but the Borrower didn't seem to know what to do with them. Ghost had just huffed and put them out again, not taking no for an answer, setting them right next to the usual offering of fruits and cheeses.

ㅤㅤThe next morning, they too had disappeared, and Gaz's wings had visibly fluffed up when he found the emptied counter, a pleased trill escaping him and earning a knowing side-eye from Price.

ㅤㅤFrom there, as the weeks passed, they developed a schedule of leaving out offerings for their little Borrower, bringing back exotic foods from their trips for the sole sake of leaving them for the little guest and gradually stepping up their gifting game. Ghost had noted that certain areas of the ceiling had small holes, not quite peeping holes but just large enough that someone particularly tiny could put their hand through them. Getting an idea, he skulked down to a local hobby store, dragging Soap along with him.

ㅤㅤIt was... definitely a sight, seeing a hulking Wraith dragging a Werewolf behind him, both having clearly just stepped off-base, carefully meandering through the aisles looking at all the miniature furniture, arguing quietly over what style to get the Borrower- "We're not getting them bloody 'memphis milano' furniture, damn things hurt my eyes just looking at them" "Well we damn sure aren't getting 'em those minimalist shites! Jus' cause ye dinnae have a soul doesn't mean they have tae live in a shoebox!"- before settling on just grabbing a shopping catalogue that had the various furniture sets in it.

ㅤㅤUpon getting back to base and explaining Ghost's idea, Gaz and Price chipped in as well, Gaz finding an ink that was made from natural pigments and was safe to consume- just in case- and Price putting effort into buying a DIY Dollhouse kit and assembling the whole thing, glasses perched on the end of his nose as he squinted and used a single claw to attach the particularly tiny pieces.

ㅤㅤThe catalogue was left on the counter along with a little stamp sponge soaked in the ink, and while it didn't move for the first day or so, by the third day they found handprints stamped alongside some of the chairs and sofas inside it.

ㅤㅤThey all lost their minds.

ㅤㅤThey were just so tiny! Itty bitty five fingered handprints with tiny claws, barely even the size of Gaz's finger pads. It gave them a more solid idea of just how small their little guest was, and it made their brains buzz.

ㅤㅤBefore the day was up, the furniture had been bought and set up on top of the bookshelf in the TV room along with the small dollhouse that Price had built, giving their little Borrower a more them-sized place to rest, with a perfect view of the television from the windows of the tiny house. From there, you'd think they collected the damn things, with just how many small model houses were set up on top of various cabinets and shelves and furniture, one in nearly every room of their section of base, each with a unique set of furniture carefully set inside them.

ㅤㅤThe boys were more than happy to shower their little darling with gifts, and it was clearly showing in their surroundings.

ㅤㅤTheir section of the base had a noticeably different quality to it- laminate floors mopped and shined to perfection, carpets and rugs never stained or miscolored, no hinges squeaked, rooms kept clean, dishes never piled-

The 141 loved their little darling, and from the way they'd come back from deployments to find a tiny indent in their pillow, pillowcase smelling faintly of lemon, rose, and cocoa, their little darling loved them too

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bunnysdaydreams · 19 days ago

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Monster 141 x Borrower! Reader;

Gender neutral reader, mouse-like borrowers, reader has a tail, g/t elements, reader is mentioned to gain some weight in response to having a stable source of food, Werewolf Soap, Dragon Price, Wraith Ghost, Harpy Gaz, Sorceress Laswell; Borrowers are minor fae closer to physical spirits; seen as good fortune.

Since y'all seemed to like this post, have some more, this time from your perspective!

ㅤㅤBorrowers are a small subspecies of fae, often nicknamed "House Faeries" for the way they'd sneak into homes for warmth and food, leaving gifts and favors in return.

ㅤㅤTo have one in your home was considered a good omen- yet a warning to be mindful of your manners at the same time. A happy Borrower is a helpful Borrower; tick them off and you'll find yourself plagued with stupendous bad luck.

_-_-_-_

ㅤㅤYou hadn't expected much after stowing away in that woman's bag, just wanting somewhere soft to sleep, but here you were now, living on a military base of some kind and watching as hulking beasts of all kinds went about their days- Gargoyles complaining about guard duty, Elementals running laps, Humans with magic honing their craft. It was the most eventful place you'd ever lived in, and that was saying something considering you once lived in the ticket booth of a subway station.

ㅤㅤThe most interesting ones, however, were this pack of beings the others kept calling "the 141"- a dragon with one wing, a harpy who liked being on the ground, and a wraith with discipline- and there was apparently a fourth member that you hadn't seen yet. They were all so so very curious, completely different beings working so closely together, but they were also...

...absolutely terrifying.

ㅤㅤStanding at just a measly six inches tall yourself, all three of them were absolutely massive and could easily crush you under boot without even realizing it. You didn't dare go out on the floor unless you were completely sure that they were all asleep. And that was without mentioning the claws or horns or just their hands themselves.

ㅤㅤBut you hated feeling like you were taking advantage of their hospitality by living here and taking from their food- even if they were very rude and put out mouse traps- so you had taken to doing small things to tidy the place up.

ㅤㅤYou sat atop a bookshelf, tail flicking nervously behind you as you peered down into the TV room. The "141" had eaten a meal prepared by the dragon, an aroma of spices and vegetables that made your mouth water, and the others had already retired to their rooms, leaving just the dragon, but he had fallen asleep on one of the seats, plate still in his lap.

ㅤㅤYou tapped your short claws against the wood of the bookshelf- dust free, thanks to yourself- and had several moments of debating, eventually climbing down the shelves once you came to a decision.

ㅤㅤYou dropped to the carpet without a sound, your ears perked to keep track of signs the dragon might wake up as you made your way into the kitchenette, pursing your lips at the mess left on the counters but perking up when you saw the rolls of bread left out.

ㅤㅤYour stomach growled, and you quickly scaled the side of the counter, taking your pick of bread and chowing down, sighing happily once your belly was full. Now, looking around at all the mess, It was times like these you were glad you had tangible magic and not just karmic influence.

ㅤㅤThis was a bad idea, this was a Really stupid idea, but you couldn't bring yourself to leave a job half done.

ㅤㅤGetting to work, you started with getting all the food packaged up and stored in the fridge, heaving the serving spoons to and from the tupperware and jumping on the lids to make them click shut before taking a breath and gently levitating the stack of plastic boxes into the refrigerator, sighing in relief as it settled without toppling over. Next was the dishes, running the tap to rinse pots and pans and set them next to the sink for washing.

ㅤㅤYour tail flicked, brows furrowing as your eyes glanced over the dishes. One, two.. where was the third plate? Frowning, you went and poked your head around the TV room doorway, hoping it wasn't where you thought it was... only to sigh, ears drooping as you caught sight of it on the dragon's lap, the man out cold and head tilted against the back of the sofa as he snored. Crap.

ㅤㅤSo here you were, carefully climbing up onto the sofa next to him, small claws easily able to find purchase in the fabric as you carefully pulled yourself up, swallowing thickly at being so close to him. The scent of smoke and gunpowder stung your nose at this distance, and you carefully shuffled closer, eyeing the plate on his lap.

ㅤㅤIf you could, you'd just levitate it away, but it was so close to his skin that you worried he'd be able to sense the magic and would wake up- magical beasts like Dragons were always more in tune to the forces around them, even if they couldn't see it.

ㅤㅤEvery step was cautious, taking your time as you carefully stepped around his hand- larger than you were tall and eyeing the neatly trimmed but no less sharp claws- and climbed up onto his thigh. You struggled to get firm footing, the muscles underneath you slack and soft with sleep, but you managed to get a hold of the rim of the ceramic, sloooowly pulling it off of his lap, freezing every time the man moved in case he was waking up.

ㅤㅤYou had just managed to get the plate down onto the seat cushion and were about to hop down after it when the dragon's snore faltered- the only warning you got before a hand slammed into your side.

ㅤㅤYou brought the plate back to the kitchen with you, slipping it into the sink and running the faucet to fill the sink with dish water, staying far away from the rim of the basin. Using your magic, you scrubbed the sponge along the plates and pots, humming as you rinsed and set the dishes into the strainer to dry and cleaned up the countertops.

ㅤㅤStartled, a squeak left you as you were dragged up and pinned against the dragon's side, heart racing and roaring in your ears as the massive paw of a hand caged you in and... scratched at his belly, and fell still. The dragon's snoring resumed, but his hand didn't move, unknowingly keeping you pinned in place as you almost fainted from relief, a hand pressed to your chest as you willed your heart to calm down.

ㅤㅤNow that you knew you weren't in mortal danger, it was... surprisingly comfortable. Dim and cozy, the warmth coming off the dragon's body left you feeling drowsy and boneless, the slow rising and falling with his breaths almost rocking you to sleep. But you didn't know what could happen if you fell asleep here, the risk of him waking up or crushing you in his sleep or flinging you off the couch was too large to properly enjoy it.

ㅤㅤBegrudgingly, you slowly slipped up and out of his grasp, the scales on his palm too thick for him to feel your claws as you scurried up and out of his cupped hand, hopping down onto the sofa and sighing in relief once you were a safe distance away and his snoring continued.

ㅤㅤLooking over the now sparkling clean kitchen and content with your work, you climbed the food pantry, slipping up into the ceiling and disappearing back to your little nook of items that you'd taken.

There was food on the counter.

Well, food on the counter was normal, but this was just... sitting there.

ㅤㅤThe fourth creature in the "141" had finally returned from wherever he had been, a werewolf with a strong accent. He was.. odd. He had come into the kitchen and grabbed all the mouse traps and had broken them, bending the metal and snapping the wood to render them useless, putting them in the trash and taking the bag out to the dumpster right after. Then, he had left this food out.

ㅤㅤThe werewolf was odd, you thought, odd indeed, but it was nice to see someone get rid of those rude traps. He had done it on purpose, you're sure. But what was this food for? You peered into the kitchen through the ceiling, tail flicking in thought. The wolf didn't seem the type to do stuff without reason, which is why you wondered if there was something to the food he had left out.

ㅤㅤCautiously, you descended from the ceiling, keeping your ears perked for any sign of one of the 141 coming back as you climbed down to the countertop, eyeing the plate of fruits and meat. Was it a trap? Was it poisoned? You sniffed the air, the scent of the grapes and plums and ham and sausage making your mouth water, but there wasn't any undertones of something foul, just the lingering woodsy scent of the werewolf.

ㅤㅤEventually your hunger won out, and you nibbled away at the foods, flavors bursting across your tongue as you cleared the plate. You saved one of the grapes for later, tucking it into the sling on your back before quickly cleaning the plate and scurrying back up into the ceiling just as you heard footsteps approaching. It was probably a one-time thing anyway.

It was not a one-time thing.

ㅤㅤIt's.. nice, not having to scavenge for your meals from leftovers and forgotten snacks.

ㅤㅤEvery day, food would appear on a plate, the same plate each time but different foods. Meats, cheeses, fruits, honey, oats. Things you haven't tasted in years, just being left out for you.

ㅤㅤBecause it Is for you, you're sure of that now- you don't know how the werewolf knows you're there, but he leaves out the food in plain sight each evening, and each morning he comes to check on it and his tail wags when it's gone, and he doesn't dwell on it or look for you.

ㅤㅤYou haven't been this fed since you were young and still with your parents, warmth and roundness returning to your cheeks, healthy weight rounding out your frame, and you've had more energy than you'd had before. You feel stronger, more confident.

ㅤㅤYou've started helping out your hosts a bit more around the building; Tidying their rooms so when they get back from a long day they can come back to a clean room, finding and returning things they've lost or misplaced, dragging the kettle to the faucet to fill it with water so they can have easy tea in the morning. You'd had a few close calls, primarily when you've snuck into their rooms while they're asleep to make sure their phones are charging- the Harpy, Gaz was his name- had almost woken up and seen you more than once, leaving you to hurriedly duck behind the tissue box on his nightstand.

ㅤㅤLikewise, Ghost- the Wraith- had almost caught you in his office. You'd heard some of the other non-141 people say something about an important meeting that afternoon, and that anyone important was supposed to be there. But when you'd gone to Ghost's office, he had been sitting at his desk still, and hadn't seemed to realise he was supposed to be going to this meeting!

ㅤㅤIt was hard to just sit still in the vent, waiting for him to get up from his computer, but when he finally stepped out of the room with an empty tea mug, you took your chance.

ㅤㅤScurrying down a filing cabinet, you leapt onto his desk, ears flicking as you tried to think of the best way to warn him about the meeting. You could leave a note, but pens were heavy and awkward to write with, and- thinking back to how alarmed he was the first time you tidied up his room- he probably wouldn't like it. You looked to his device, the computer; he had texts and information on there, would he have something about the meeting?

ㅤㅤMind set, you heaved the mouse- an odd name for it, it didn't look like a mouse at all- across the mat and carefully clicked on the little icon that looked like a mail envelope, perking up when it brought up a list of letters that had been sent to him. Scrolling down the list, you found the one that said "MEETING - URGENT" and clicked on it to open it just as you heard Ghost's footsteps outside the door.

ㅤㅤThe knob turned, and Ghost stepped into his office, dark eyes sweeping over his desk with a narrowed gaze. Nothing seemed out of place, but he could just Feel that something had changed.

ㅤㅤCautiously, he stepped further into his office, clearing the rug with just a few short strides, setting his mug down onto the wood of his desk with a dull tink. Ghost's eyes drifted across his drawers and stationeries, narrowly missing the tufted tail that slipped into his uppermost drawer, and landed on his computer monitor with the email pulled up.

ㅤㅤHe checked the date on it, checked the date on the monitor, then checked his watch and cursed, taking a gulp of his tea before setting the mug back down as he turned and hurried out of his office, locking the door behind him.

ㅤㅤOnce his steps had faded into the distance, you poked your head out of the drawer with a relieved sigh, climbing back up onto the surface of Ghost's desk. While you were there, you set a few of the pens back into the pen holder, and straightened some of the papers, your eyes drifting to his mug of tea.

ㅤㅤNose twitching, you eyed the steam coming off of it, glanced at the door, and shrugged, padding over to the mug, climbing the handle to peer over the rim. The liquid inside was a warm deep brown, and looked watery, but smelled like fruit and spice, and you couldn't resist leaning in to cup your hand and take a few sips.

ㅤㅤYou hummed in interest at the taste, deciding that you liked Ghost's tea, and taking a few more drinks from the mug before climbing back down and making your way back into the vents, happy with finding something new.

ㅤㅤYour people were gone.

ㅤㅤYou whined, ears pinned back and tail limp as you dejectedly flopped over a ceramic figurine he had on one of his shelves. Price was almost always in his office, and if he wasn't then that meant the 141 were out somewhere, probably for days. Huffing, you slipped back into the ceiling, making your way to the TV room and kitchen.

ㅤㅤFrowning, upset, and just a little bit pouty, you checked the Dragon's- Price's- office again, as if he'd somehow magically appear in there within the 5 minutes you hadn't been looking.

ㅤㅤStill empty.

ㅤㅤThe other people on base weren't nearly as interesting to watch, always so stiff and formal with eachother, nothing like the casual closeness you'd gotten used to seeing from your pack of people. (And, a bit selfishly, the other people never left you food!)

ㅤㅤArriving at the ventilation shaft that you knew belonged to the Kitchen, you ducked through the ceiling tiles and were about to climb down from atop the cabinets when you froze, seeing a human woman standing at the fridge. Her head rose, and you flattened yourself out of sight just as her steely eyes glanced over your hiding spot, before she turned back to the fridge.

ㅤㅤKeeping your ears flat and head low, you peeked over the edge of the cabinet, watching the human as she pulled sausage and cheese and strawberries from the fridge. She lifted her hand, and without looking, a knife from across the kitchen arose from the block and floated into her grasp, the Sorceress arranging one of the foods onto a cutting board and beginning to slice it into thin chunks.

ㅤㅤSwallowing thickly, you crept away from the edge of the cabinet, debating if you had enough time to disappear back into the ceiling without her seeing you. Sorcerers, in your experience, were Bad News- Most creatures steered clear of the Fae whenever possible, but Sorcerers were one of the few that actively sought them out to try and make deals. For a higher ranking Fae, it wasn't a concern, just curse the mortal and move on, but for a lowly Borrower like yourself? One mishap and you're trapped in a contract, forced to do their dirty work for them.

ㅤㅤSwallowing thickly, you crept away from the edge of the cabinet. Should you stay here? Did you even have enough time to disappear back into the ceiling before she saw you? Did she already sense you and was just waiting for you to drop your guard?

ㅤㅤWho knows what they'd do to you if they caught you?

ㅤㅤFootsteps sounded, heading away from you, fading into the distance, and your ears perked. Did she.. did she leave?

ㅤㅤSlowly, you peeked over the edge of the cabinet, finding an empty kitchen, with food left out on your plate. As you climbed down onto the countertop and nibbled at a cube of sausage, you felt it in your bones that you would have to be more cautious from now on.

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bunnysdaydreams · 22 days ago

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SUPERSOLDIERS | MASTERLIST | main masterlist

pairing: supersoldiers!141 x f!reader | spotify playlist

summary: years after machine soldiers where proven incapable of completing certain tasks because of their lack of purpose, human soldiers are reinserted on field. only, now they have to be experimented on in order to improve their performance.

"[...] although, a rumor that certain soldiers were kept somewhere far away from the city's edges – bordering wild life – started being more and more heard by you as you made your way through military life – two years was enough for you to come across all types of stories. they had too many years of training and became an extension of nature itself – faster, stronger and more willing to be protective towards the things they tend for."

warnings: swearing, barely any angst, smut (marked with *), overall just lots of fluff

wc: 24.087

⤷ part 1 ⤷ part 2 ⤷ part 3 ⤷ part 4 ⤷ part 5 ⤷ part 6 (*) ⤷ part 7 (*) ⤷ part 8 ⤷ part 9 (*) ⤷ part 10 (end)

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bunnysdaydreams · 23 days ago

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What kind of sleeping position does each of the 141 members have? Are they more "Victorian Damsel in Distress" or "A Victorian Child Dying of Scarlet Fever"?

They are all about that tactical bed sharing

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bunnysdaydreams · 27 days ago

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Monster 141 x Borrower! Reader;

Since y'all seemed to like this post, have some more, this time from your perspective!

ㅤㅤBorrowers are a small subspecies of fae, often nicknamed "House Faeries" for the way they'd sneak into homes for warmth and food, leaving gifts and favors in return.

_-_-_-_

...absolutely terrifying.

ㅤㅤThis was a bad idea, this was a Really stupid idea, but you couldn't bring yourself to leave a job half done.

There was food on the counter.

Well, food on the counter was normal, but this was just... sitting there.

It was not a one-time thing.

ㅤㅤIt's.. nice, not having to scavenge for your meals from leftovers and forgotten snacks.

ㅤㅤEvery day, food would appear on a plate, the same plate each time but different foods. Meats, cheeses, fruits, honey, oats. Things you haven't tasted in years, just being left out for you.

ㅤㅤIt was hard to just sit still in the vent, waiting for him to get up from his computer, but when he finally stepped out of the room with an empty tea mug, you took your chance.

ㅤㅤThe knob turned, and Ghost stepped into his office, dark eyes sweeping over his desk with a narrowed gaze. Nothing seemed out of place, but he could just Feel that something had changed.

ㅤㅤYour people were gone.

ㅤㅤFrowning, upset, and just a little bit pouty, you checked the Dragon's- Price's- office again, as if he'd somehow magically appear in there within the 5 minutes you hadn't been looking.

ㅤㅤStill empty.

ㅤㅤWho knows what they'd do to you if they caught you?

ㅤㅤFootsteps sounded, heading away from you, fading into the distance, and your ears perked. Did she.. did she leave?

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bunnysdaydreams · 30 days ago

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So, reader described her ideal guy as a spitting image of ghost without realizing, right?

Well one day while ur out shopping you see the most drop-dead gorgeous guy ever. He's everything you want. Tall, beefy, soft blonde curls atop his head and dark chocolate eyes. You can see just the hint of a tattoo sleeve where his arm cuffs have rolled up, and what looks like a fair few facial scars under the black surgical mask.

Ur about to go up and flirt like ur life depends on it, already planning where you'll take him to eat, when he ducks around a corner. You follow, just a bit dazed by the way his thigh muscles shift beneath his jeans. Except, hes fucking gone??? Like. No where to be seen.

You mourn the loss of ur perfect guy for weeks, regaling soap and gaz about ur white whale in gym. "No, im serious! He was like an angel sent from God, you should have seen him!" Ur explaining desperately, trying to emphasize just how hot this guy's was.

"Soft puppy dog eyes and biceps that could smother a man! I didnt see a ring, dude I have to have him." Gaz seems mildly amused, nodding along. "Plus, get this, I saw him buy my favourite brand of protein bars! If that isnt a sign then what is??"

While you continue to rant and rave, ghost whos overlooking some newbies sparring pointedly does not look in ur direction. The heated flush crawling up his back cant be seen, and thank god for that. He's been blushing everytime he looks at you ever since you saw him in the grocery store and muttered "holy shit hes hot", thinking he wouldnt hear.

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bunnysdaydreams · 2 months ago

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"Let the Hair Be in Peace"

Summary: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish has finally grown out his glorious hair to shoulder-length perfection. But when he casually mentions chopping it off, his wife spirals into mock devastation. Divorce? Maybe. Betrayal? Absolutely. Because how dare he even think of cutting her favorite thing to tug on—especially when he's got his head between her thighs. In the end, she’ll remind him just how treasured those locks really are.

Rating: Suggestive themes, light smut references, hair kink-coded nonsense, dramatic fluff.

Masterlist

---

It starts with scissors on the bathroom counter.

You blink at them.

Then at Johnny—who’s toweling off after a shower, damp strands of gorgeous brown hair clinging to his shoulders like a scene straight out of a shampoo commercial.

"What’s this?" you ask, voice deadly calm.

He shrugs. Shrugs. "Thought I’d trim it. S’gettin’ long."

You gasp. Visibly. Audibly. As if he just told you he was joining a monastery and giving up sex.

"Trim it? Johnny, this is your Roman Empire. This hair is a sacred cultural monument."

He laughs like it’s funny.

It is not funny.

You don’t talk to him for three hours.

You make toast and jam with silent fury.

You post dramatic Instagram stories of his wet hair captioned: soon to be gone 💔 #RIPSoapLocks

You text your group chat: What’s the number for a divorce lawyer again? Asking for me.

Johnny finally corners you in the kitchen, arms crossed, looking amused and hot and so tragically unaware of the war he’s just declared.

"Alright, love. Tell me what’s goin’ on in that pretty head."

You glare. You pout.

"You seriously want to cut the one thing in this house that brings me peace and serotonin?"

He blinks. "It’s just hair."

"It’s not just hair. It’s the handle I use when I’m pulling you deeper, MacTavish. It’s what I braid when we’re watching TV. It’s—"

You gasp again.

"It’s what I wrap around my fist when you’re between my thighs. Johnny. Come on."

He flushes—adorably—scratching the back of his neck.

"I didn’t realize it meant that much."

You step closer, hands sliding into the still-damp mess of waves.

"It means everything."

You tug. Just a little. For emphasis.

He groans.

"Fucking hell. Alright, alright. The hair stays."

You beam.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Maybe I’ll grow it longer. You can braid it like a Viking."

You bite your lip. "...And pull it like a whore."

His smile drops. Eyes darken.

"Get upstairs, wife. Now."

You never see the scissors again.

You keep his hair in messy braids and soft buns and occasionally tie little bows in it just to be annoying.

And when he’s moaning between your thighs, you thank every divine being that you fought for the greater good.

Let the hair be in peace. Amen.

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bunnysdaydreams · 2 months ago

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You think Soap has ADHD energy? Meet the missus!

Everyone knows that Soap gets distracted easily when he doesn't have anything to focus. Outside of missions he gets restless and if he is bored he shouldn't be left without supervision.

They made it to the safehouse, got a good night's sleep and had another day to spend until transport was ready and would be on mandatory leave for the next two weeks. So of course they were talking about their plans.

Price had promised Kyle to show him his cabin by the lake and nobody commented on the faint blush under his beard or how Kyle's touch lingered a bit longer than usual. To be honest Soap and Ghost were betting on who would catch the kissing first.

Ghost didn't have plans so he was actually contemplating taking Soaps offer to stay at his house for a while.

"Honestly, ye should see what ma bonnie made of that place. Real cozy now." Soap was talking away, not noticing the other three staring at him.

"Come again? Your whatnow?" Asked Kyle.

"My Bonnie? The missus? Ma wife? You forgot about my wife?" Johnny seemed to be undecided whether to be angry or confused.

"Soap... You never told any of us. You mentioned a bird now and then. You mean to tell us it was the same one the whole time? You been stable? Since when?"

Now that made Soap think. "Ah mean.. known her forever. Stable for some years now, as stable as we can be. Proposed last summer we just didn't get around actually speaking the vows." He looked a bit sheepish. "Ah never told you? Sure 'bout that?"

Price didn't know how to react, other than: "You better marry her as soon as you are in the same country. If she hasn't left you by now she will never and you need to make sure the paperwork is all set up, just in case."

"And you should probably introduce us, so she won't be scared if one of us appeared on your doorstep." Kyle added.

"Actually, we can do that right now, we have a satellite connection."

Johnny was still trying to remember if he really had forgotten to mention the most important person in his life to the other most important people in his life, so he just acted on autopilot when Kyle shoved a tablet in his hands, starting a video call.

They all gathered around the screen, watching as the lights flickered and a disheveled face came into view, round face, sleepy eyes, hair sticking in every direction.

"Tha' you babe? You alive?" Johnny immediately had a smile plastered on his face. "Alive and kicking, didn't even get shot. Listen, sorry I woke you, wasn't my idea. But remember we planned our wedding to be with all friends and family and my captain could stand in for you dad since he is not invited and all and. Maybe I forgot to tell them.. about you.. like.. ya ken?" He sounded not as nervous as someone should sound who forgot his fiancé as soon as he was away.

You just blinked. "Johnny... Are you serious?" It was hard to tell if you were angry or not. "Okay, I just want to know: Did you forget because you already did it in your head or because you forgot to remember?"

"Bit of both? Bit like you forgot to tell your sister." Johnny admitted, grinning.

You giggled "Oh that was fun. Well, when she talked to me again. Oh, I should call her." You got up, apparently already forgetting you were on a call, looking for something. They could see your bedroom, organised chaos, plants, some pictures of Johnny, all in all a cozy home.

"Have you seen my laptop?" You wondered, confused when you heard a snort from Ghost. "What.. ooh... Hi there. You must be Ghost, yeah? Good thing you wear that mask, I am terrible with faces. And you are Gaz, right? You're pretty. Johnny he is so pretty, why am I marrying you again?"

"Because you love me and nobody else can tolerate either of us so we are stuck with each other?" came the answer like a well used banter.

"True. I do love you. But I also haven't slept for two days because I was building something. A surprise. When are you home? Don't tell me, just text. Please. Bring the boys. Oh, Captain Price, could you marry us? Or is that just a Ship Captain thing? Might be, I never cared, but that would be very practical. Give me a week to get everyone together and we could have the ceremony in the backyard, I can wait with the new greenhouse, so we would have the space." You were making notes on something that looked like a pizza box, lost in thoughts already.

You seemed to have forgotten you were still on the call, writing down things. Until you heard Price laughing, unable to hold it in any longer.

"Oh, I drifted. Sorry, didn't take my meds, I promise I'm better at this when I sleep. So.. are you coming to the wedding or not? And bring my future husband with you, in case he forgets again."

You were not angry at all. One of the reasons they worked was that you never got angry with each other about stuff like that. You knew each other for too long to try and change or 'fix' the other. If there was a problem or hurt feelings you would address it and work on a solution.

Ghost just looked at Soap. "You really found that one girl with even less ability to focus, did ya?"

Johnny just nodded happily, "She is absolutely perfect."

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bunnysdaydreams · 2 months ago

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Bird Watching

Construction Worker!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x single mom!reader

‘Birds of a feather,

We should stick together, I know,

I said I’d never,

Think I wasn’t better alone’

Part one (2.3k words)

Part two (2.4K words)

Part three (3.6k words)

Part four (4.5k words)

Part five (6.3k words)

Part six (8.8k words)

Part seven (coming soon)

‘I knew you in another life,

You had that same look in your eyes,

I love you,

Don’t act so surprised’

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bunnysdaydreams · 2 months ago

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Turning Page

You work at the library Simon and his daughter frequent.

single dad! Simon Riley x librarian! Reader

tags | alpha! Simon Riley, Omega! Reader, a/b/o dynamics, mentions of mating bonds, scenting, fluff, eventual romance, girl-dad, retired Simon, angst

ch. 1 | ao3 | masterlist

There’s cement in his throat.

Stucco lodged thick in his lungs, solidifying and suffocating him in a god-forsaken children’s library. He can’t breathe, heart racing and bleeding all his layers as his world seems to mute around him.

Every blonde little girl looks like her, running circles around him, mocking him for being a shit father, losing his daughter, but none of them are his. She was there, mere seconds ago, tucked into his side as they browsed the books on the shelf.

Fancy Nancy.

Fancy Nancy is the book that distracted her, with her ribbons and glitter, obnoxious curls and neon pinks, but she had asked so sweetly with doe eyes and precious chubby cheeks— please Daddy, can we get the Fancy Nancy book?

How could he say no? He succumbed, walked to the shelf in front of them, and grabbed the stupid pink book. And now she’s gone, wasn’t standing where she was when he turned back around.

His instincts kicked in, analyzing the room as fast as he could with pinpointed measurements, clearing the area like he was on a mission. An automatic routine when his biggest concerns were enemies, how many bullets were left in his mag, and if the knife buried in his leg was down to the bone. Now, he’s clearing a bloody library because his biggest concern is his daughter and which book they’re going to read before bed time tonight— Fancy Nancy.

He can’t smell her, there are too many scents, too many other little pups smothering her citrus smell. His mind is jumping to every scenario, someone took her, she’s too smart to run away from him, he’s taught her better than that. Someone from his past must’ve tracked him down and took the only important thing in his life away. Came to get revenge, retribution for the irredeemable things he’s done.

He’s stomping through the aisles with an unconfined sense of urgency, terrifying the small children with his looming presence and menacing soured scent, but he doesn’t fucking care. Can’t care when they’re not his Clementine.

Until he hears her, an infectious giggle that only belongs to his girl. When he sees her, dirty blonde curls, ruddy red cheeks, and beady eyes perched on your desk in one piece with an adorable smile smeared across her face it’s like he can finally breathe again, like the stucco melted from his lungs and washed away to utter relief.

Even when he can tell she’s been crying, lashes clumped together as fat tears cascade down her shaking chin and pool in the pink Hello Kitty t-shirt uncle Johnny got her, he knows she’s okay. He can tell by the way you’re cooing at her, wiping her cheeks gently, protruding your omega scent to soothe her anxiety.

He can smell it the closer he gets: white jasmine, musky sweetness, warm, gentle, vanilla seeping through the rich scent. Swirls with his Clementine’s citrus.

It rumbles something in him, spinning and tugging at his alpha. Pulling at the strings he folded away in a neat box for Clementine’s sake, or maybe it was his. He doesn’t have time for things such as that anymore, never really did.

Clementine jumps off the table, small feet pattering against the tiled floor when she sees him.

“Daddy!”

Simon captures her in his arms, pressing her into the crook of his neck with a palm on the back of her fragile head. He’s still shaking even though she’s in his arms, hugging her a little too tight to his chest, scenting the side of her neck and forehead probably a little too much.

“Minty, baby,” He breathes the words as a sigh of relief, pressing a kiss against her temple, “Where did you go? I turned and you weren’t there anymore.”

“I couldn’t find you, Daddy!” She explains, pointing a nubby finger towards you, “I came to the desk like you taught me. The pretty lady helped me.”

He follows her point, finding your gaze. You give him a soft smile, crossing your arms behind your back endearingly. He feels it in his chest when you do, an itch flaring in the back of his throat from the whites of your teeth like the cement was bubbling back up. Except, this time it’s not as heavy, only makes his breath stick in his lungs.

It’s a catastrophe that you are pretty, his Clementine doesn’t lie.

“She did.” You nod in agreement, “She was a very brave girl.”

Even more so because you’re complimenting his girl.

Clementine beams at that, tugging on the collar of his shirt to bring his attention back to her, “See, Daddy! I did good!”

He smiles, tenderly, eyes softening at the bundle in his arms, “Yeah, pup, you did. Thought I lost you.”

She shakes her head proudly, curls bouncing around her face, “Nope, you found me.”

“Always will.” He promises, smoothing his thumb against her hair affectionately, and he means it, he’d go to the ends of the earth until his flesh scraped away to bones to find her.

He turns towards you again, “Thank you, for taking care of her.”

“Of course,” You reassure, “It comes with the job. Happens all the time. I’m glad she’s okay.”

He places the book that got them in this situation in the first place on the counter, “Fancy Nancy.”

You laugh, “Our best seller.”

The noise smooths over him, the tension coiled between his shoulder blades loosening slightly because he’s got Clementine safe in his arms and a pretty librarian to thank for. You’re nice to listen to, sweet to the smell, even better to look at. Hair pulled back into a messy tie, cat-eyed glasses on the bridge of your nose, adorned in a sweater vest, and a skirt to your ankles. It’s familiar, homely.

“Really? Despise tha’ book.” He grumbles, a mixture of the book's contents and the culprit that almost made him lose his daughter the cause.

It’s a catastrophe that you are pretty when Simon spots a mating bite on the base of your neck. It’s ugly, taints your delicate flesh with fading teeth marks, like the asshole who left it on you didn’t really mean it. He wouldn’t do that to you.

Though, he doesn’t have much room to speak when he’s got a daughter without a mating bond of his own, when his Clementine doesn’t have a mother of her own.

Your eyes crinkle, a sight he decides he likes, “She’s a bit obnoxious, isn’t she?”

Clementine makes a noise of disapproval, frowning dramatically, “I like her!”

“I know, Mint. You make me read it to you every night.” He deadpans.

She smiles brightly at that, kicking her feet out around his torso as she giggles in acknowledgment.

You slide the book over to them with a shrug, “She’s teaching children to be themselves, self-expression even if they are a little obnoxious.”

“I like her,” Clementine whispers to him, thinks she’s being real quiet about it, but you hear her loud and clear.

You hide your laugh behind your hand, “I like you too, sweetheart. I hope you enjoy your book.”

“Thank you!”

Clementine squeezes herself tight around his neck from excitement as they walk through the library doors, “She’s pretty.”

“Yeah, pup. She is.”

He doesn’t let go of Clementine the entire walk home.

thank you to @lumilily for the name Clementine! & nicknames tiny & mint 🤍

tag list is open! 🎐

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