#Dr. two brains x reader

[thewildsophia]

.For When I Don't Rember My Beloved. WordGirl//Dr. Two-Brains

Dr. Two-Brains/Steven Boxleitner x Reader

Word Count: 4130

"Read More" placed due to length

The henchmen Charlie and “Meatloaf” were the first to aid Dr. Two Brains in the cheese-centric havoc he rained over Fair City. Dr. Two Brains was a strange man, to say the least, but he was weird in an endearing way…ehh, kinda. But you must have thought so too since you were soon to join him, being recruited just a few days after them. 

It was strange really. One day you didn’t exist to them and the next Dr. Two Brains was strolling you into the lair stating that you would be his first in command and that they should report to you. Oh well, there's not much they can do otherwise.

At least you were nice enough. You didn’t yell and berate them like the doctor would — quite the opposite. You were kind and reasonable to them, never placing unattainable expectations on them. You were slow to anger, but they may catch you in a foul mood on a particularly awful day. Overall, you were very normal, very sane, and nothing like their boss which confused them so much about your sudden employment. Yet oddly enough you never told them your name, opting to have them address you as “Commander.” They’re not even sure they’ve heard Dr. Two Brains call you by your name either.

They figured the doctor valued you more than the actual henchmen since you were also a doctor yourself. You didn’t speak much about that fact, but the lab coat and PPE you always wore or at least had on hand clued them into the fact that you were probably an associate of his before his accident. When they asked you about what kind of doctor you were, you were very short in your response, only telling them you specialized in cellular biology and worked at the local hospital at one point.

They watched how you interacted with their boss and were shocked at your boldness towards him. You weren’t shy about voicing your concerns with his plans much to the boss’s dismay, frustrating him even more and forcing him to revise his plan twice, thrice, however many times until you were satisfied. Yet despite his irritation with your feedback, he always acted on what you said. In addition, you were the only one he let aid him in constructing his machinery. Your involvement would range from handing him tools to constructing parts of a larger machine depending on how complicated the schematic the doctor had drawn up, often time being tweaked by you before he began construction. You’d even talk to the boss about his health, pushing him to stay active even in small ways and to try and incorporate small items into his diet that weren’t just cheese. You’d even cook for the man!

To the henchmen, you seemed more like a friend to their boss rather than a worker, and they supposed that’s why you were his “First Commander” instead of another henchman. 

Yet Meatloaf couldn’t help but notice the longing looks you would shoot the doctor, an unreadable expression on your face. He listened to how you spoke firmly but gently to the boss, never once raising your voice no matter how belligerent and unreasonable he would become. Charlie saw the lingering touches you would brush against the doctor’s skin, not wanting to pull away yourself yet not having the heart to stand when the boss would inevitably push you away from him. He watched as you would care for him in small ways like organizing his tools or draping a blanket over him when he would pass out on the couch. They both figured you had feelings for their boss as strange as the man was. That would explain why you so willingly allowed yourself to be hired by their insane boss and why you did things that most certainly weren’t part of your job description.

Oh, how close yet so far they were from the truth with this idea in their mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You practically lived in the lair with Dr. Two Brains, so it was no surprise that you were there before Charlie or Meatloaf. What was surprising was that you were nowhere to be found when the two henchmen came in that morning. You’d usually be busying yourself with some minute task in the main part of the lair, yet today you were not there. 

Just a few minutes earlier, right before the two henchmen had arrived, you had been called over by Dr. Two Brains to help in his “office,” which was just a small back room that was mostly stable and had a partially functioning door on it. He said he wanted your input on his schematic for a ray that would turn gold into cheese. You didn’t go to him immediately, opting to finish what you were doing in the front of the lair before helping him. Your concentration drifted from that task when you heard the crashing of books and the scattering of papers coming from his office. 

You’re quick to sprint over to his office, calling out to him in worry all the way there.

“Doc?” You asked, rounding the corner of the hall, “You alright?” 

You peeked your head into his room to see it in complete disarray. Papers fluttered to the ground and the few reference books you had managed to steal get for him were scattered about without care. Your eyes were drawn to Two Brains in the corner, back against the wall, and head in his hands, his mouse brain pulsing.

He groaned as he tried to soothe his aching head, yet the pain would not let up. You slowly made your way over to him, tiptoeing over the scattered papers and open books. 

“I’m here, Doc,” You whispered, kneeling in front of him and placing a hand on his knee. If he knew you were there, he didn’t acknowledge you. His hands gripped his head harder with strands of his white hair sticking to the rubber of his gloves and slipping between his fingers. He muttered something, but you couldn’t understand him.

You scooted even closer and placed your hands on his own before gently pulling his fingers out of his hair, though they would not leave his head. You rubbed his hands through his gloves and softly spoke to him,

“I’m right here for you, Doctor. Just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll help you.”

Dr. Two Brains’ muttering stopped and his movements stilled. His hands gently gripped your own and slowly he let you pull his hands away from his face where you placed them on his knees.

His eyes were irritated and red-rimmed, much more than usual, and tears were caught in his whiskers on their way down his lithe face. His cheeks were flush, most likely from crying so hard and unable to breathe properly. He licked his lips and inhaled a shuddering breath before trying to speak again. He was unable to through his raw throat.

“It’s okay,” You whispered, rubbing your fingers comfortingly on his hands, “Just breathe.”

His dark eyes looked into your own E/C ones and for a moment you saw recognition in them. 

“Y/N?” Dr. Two Brains questioned, and it felt as if the breath was forced from your lungs. 

Eyes blown wide you’re silent for a moment, unable to force even a breath from your body. Your hands grip him harder and you feel your eyes burn from unseen tears and your face warm. Your bottom lip trembled but you forced your jaw to unclench and answered unsure,

“Steven?” And he hummed in response.

Dr. Two Brains, Steven, looked around the room and sniffed before looking back at you. 

“What’s…going on? Where are we?” Steven asked, but you were still unable to say anything in response. In an instance, you moved his knees aside and fell into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. He groaned from the hard impact, but quickly wrapped his own arms around you and rested his chin on your head with a chuckle. 

“What’s wrong, Darling? Why are…” Steven’s question trails off as he wipes the tears off his cheek, “We both crying?” 

You wanted to answer him, but you couldn’t force a single word from your mouth, opting to press your face harder into his chest and hug him tighter. You breathed in his scent, laced with some cheddar cheese but still him, before pulling away to look at him and God…

How long has it been since he’s looked at you like this? 

Eyes soft but still that rodent red, he gazed at you with so much love you felt as if you could just die of love for him. 

You steadied your breath and brought a hand up to cup his cheek, wiping away any remnant of his tears before answering him.

“Nothing's wrong,” You sighed, hands never once leaving his body, “I’ve just missed you so.”

Steven chuckles before kissing your cheek and you shuttered at the strange yet familiar sensation. He pulled you in closer to him, moving you to straddle his thigh that was outstretched in front of him, and pressed his cheek against yours in a movement that you hadn’t felt in so long yet remembered so well. His whiskers tickled your cheek the same way his stubble used to.

“You’re such a sweetheart. I’ve been in my lab the whole time, haven’t I?” Steven chuckled, “Where have I been to you?”

You tilted your head to kiss his cheek, not minding the gentle prodigy of his whiskers.

“I know where you’ve been,” You quickly answered, “I’ve just been busy in my own lab at the hospital.” You lied. You didn’t want to risk reminding him of who he had become. 

“The long hours, plus the strange times I have to work, have completely taken me away from you. I just miss being in your company,” You whispered.

Steven shifted you in his lap, pulling back and cupping your face with both his hands and the rubber of his gloves cooled your flushed cheeks. He peppered your face with light and innocent kisses; from your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, the space between your eyebrows, and finally one last kiss to your lips. You hummed into the kiss, one hand gripping his arm and the other trailing up to brush a few strands of hair out of his face. Eyes closed, he wiped the last of your tears from your face. 

Pulling back, Steven rested his forehead against yours and sighed.

“How did I manage to end up with such a loving spouse like you, hmm?” He questioned, eyes soft and unfocused as he looked at you with complete adoration. Your hands fall to his shoulders and you squeeze them, never wanting to let go of him again.

“No, it’s me who is lucky to have ended up with you, my beloved,” You answered in a hushed tone. You pressed your lips to his in a chaste, sweet kiss, savoring the feeling of his soft yet chapped lips against your own. 

The feeling of his body against your own was one you hadn’t felt in so long, yet it was all too familiar at the same time. Hesitantly you pulled away from him and immediately felt another wave of tears build up behind your eyes. You leaned forward and pressed your face into his neck with arms wrapped around his chest tighter than before. You tilted your face to speak into his neck,

“Please don’t leave me,” You whispered, voice small from the unshed tears that burned your face, “Not again. Not ever.” 

“Ohh, sweetheart…What has gotten into you?” Steven questioned, arms wrapped around your shaking frame, “I’d never leave you. Not now, not ever.”

You tried to wipe the tears that fell from your eyes not wanting to soil Steven’s lab coat, but you knew he never minded. He always said that he could just wash it.

Steven’s hands are gentle as they caress your body, careful not to snag his gloves on your clothes or pull your hair too hard. His touches soon falter before he pushes you away from him slightly and for a moment you’re worried that he would push you off of him altogether. 

With his hands on your shoulders and eyebrows furrowed, Steven finally takes a good look at you, his eyes trailing from your head to your feet, then back up to your face.

“Are you alright?” He asked, voice laced with worry, “You look so much thinner than I remember.” He commented. You tried to shrug off his concern, but he persisted. 

“And your eyes,” Steven began while tracing your under-eye with his thumb, “You’ve got terrible eye bags. Not that you look bad! You just seem…tired. More than usual.”

You placed your hand over top of his on your face and smiled softly, yet you knew you had to come up with a lie.

“If I’m honest, I haven’t been sleeping well lately,” You started, eyes drifting away from his own, “The long hours I’ve been putting in have made it difficult for me to rest at night. And being away from you hasn’t helped.”

You shifted under his gaze uncomfortable at the probing but still managed to finish.

“But I feel much better now that I’m with you,” You smiled, meeting his eyes again, but a frown had etched itself on his face.

“Y/N, please don’t lie to me,” Steven whispered, and you cursed yourself for having been caught, “What’s troubling you so much? Where have I been?” 

You frown yourself, gripping him harder and sniffling. You pulled his hand off your face and rested it in his lap, rubbing the tops of his hands with your thumbs. 

“You’ve just…been away,” You mutter, tears brimming in your eyes, “Away from me. I’ve missed you.”

“But where have I been?” Steven asked again.

“I-I don’t know. You’ve been here, but you just haven’t been yourself,” You answered while using your shoulder to wipe your face, “But you’re here now. You’re yourself now! I just want to stay with you…”

Steven pulled his hands from his lap and held your waist, kissing your cheek and shushing your sobs.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered against your skin, “I won’t leave you. I promise.”

You hugged him, arms wrapping your arms around his back and hooking them over his shoulders, and rested your head on his shoulder. His hands on your waist rubbed you gently and soothed the tension you hadn’t realized had settled there. You exhaled a shuddering breath before speaking up,

“I love you, Steven,” You sighed. He holds you tighter.

“I love you too, Y/N,” Steven responded.

Your right-hand falls from where it was resting and trails down his left arm to his hand. There was still something you needed to know. Slowly, Steven lets you pull the glove off his hand and it falls to the floor.

You feel a sob bubble up your throat as your eyes lay on the simple gold band nestled on his slender ring finger. You can’t help but caress the ring, relieved that he still wore it even when he wasn’t Steven. Shakily, you lifted his hand to your face and kissed his knuckles. Pulling away, you lace your fingers together and smile at him, a smile that he returns. 

Steven’s grasp on your hand falters before his arm falls limp. He looks around the room with furrowed eyebrows and gears turning in his head. 

“Why am I on the floor?” Steven asked, voice hoarse and not the same tone he had been speaking to you with. He shifted back from you and you in turn moved away from him.

“Please, just stay a little longer,” You thought, but you knew your plea would not be answered.

“And why are you sitting on me?” Steven, no, Dr. Two Brains asked, and you’re quick to pull away altogether. The doctor rubs his hand subconsciously and quickly notices his left glove is missing. He looks around panicked before finding it on the floor and swiftly pulling it on his hand and over his elbow. He rubs where his ring is under the glove and glares at you.

“What’s going on here?” Dr. Two Brains asks again, yet you couldn’t come up with a lie quick enough, “Answer me, Commander!”

“I-You fell!” You exclaimed, moving to kneel in front of him, “You fell after you called me to look at your schematics. I was just making sure you didn’t hit your head too hard is all…” Your voice trailed off as determination seemed to die down in your throat. 

Dr. Two Brains glares at you for a moment longer before his face softens, but it’s clear his suspicion remains.

“Right…” He draws out while swatting your outstretched hand away and lifting himself to his feet, “Did you look at the schematics yet?” 

“No, not yet,” You answered, dusting the dirt off your pants and fixing your coat. 

“What am I paying you for then?” Dr. Two Brains groaned while pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut. He opened them a moment later, sighing and looking over to the door of his office.

“And why are you guys just standing around?!” The doctor shouted, drawing your attention to the two henchmen standing in the doorframe. 

“Just how long had they been standing there?”

From the look they gave you, it was clear they had been there long enough.

“Sorry, Boss. We’ll get right back to work,” Meatloaf said before motioning for Charlie to follow him. They glanced at you one last time before disappearing somewhere in the lair. 

Dr. Two Brains turned back to you and just as he opened his mouth to say something he cut himself off, unsure.

“Are you crying?” Dr. Two Brains asked. 

“Were you crying?” You thought as your eyelids fluttered and you tapped your undereye with your fingertip, immediately noting the moisture there. 

“Uh-” You stutter, unsure of how to answer him. You felt that an affirmative ‘yes’ would make things more awkward than it already was.

“Oh, geez. I didn’t think I was that harsh,” Dr. Two Brains said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck, “Was I?” 

“No-” You clear your throat while trying to quickly dispel the discomfort that had gathered between you two, “It’s nothing. Just…allergies!” 

You scrubbed the tears from your eyes roughly and stood up straight, yet Dr. Two Brains was still cautious.

“Um, alright,” He muttered, “Just look over the schematics when you can.” He gestured to his desk before sitting down himself. You’re quick to pick up the offending schematics and scurry out of his office with a teary-eyed smile.

His gaze lingers on you a moment longer than it should have, his hand subconsciously coming up to caress the golden band on his left hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You found yourself on the upper side of the lair on a “balcony” of sorts, schematics long discarded on a table in the main room. You’d look later. You pull the cigarette from your lips in your left hand, exhaling that smoke in one big sigh. 

Bad habit, you know. But sometimes you just want to forget the same way he does.

You hear footsteps approaching you on your left and aren’t surprised to see Charlie and Meatloaf peering up at you, unsure if they were allowed up there with you. With a sigh, you motioned for them to join you. They climb up and rest on the railing on either side of you. Meatloaf clears his throat as you take another drag from your cigarette.

“Sooo…” Meatloaf begins, dragging out his single word.

“Sooo…” You copy, not looking over at him.

“You and the Boss are a thing?” He asked, looking at your face for an answer. You frown and drop your cigarette on the ground, stomping out the few burning embers. 

“Do you two know my name?” You ask, fingers playing with your glove on your left hand.

“No, the Boss just calls you our commander. He never told us your name,” Meatloaf explains. Your eyes remain down as you take a step back from the railing and pull off your glove. You hold up your left hand for them to see the gold band that rests on your ring finger.

“I’m Dr. Y/N Boxleitner,” You said, dropping your hand back down to your waist and placing your glove back on, “Steven is my husband.”

Charlie’s mouth is agape as Meatloaf stutters out a few incoherent words before taking a deep breath and trying again.

“You’re Dr. Two Brains’ spouse?! I had no idea he was married!” Meatloaf exclaimed, and you chuckled bitterly.

“Yeah, he seems to forget that too,” Meatloaf is silent and Charlie places a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to look up at them.

“We noticed…” Meatloaf whispered, trying his best to be comforting. Meatloaf rubbed your other shoulder and looked over to you in concern. 

“We’re sorry about what you have to go through. While Charlie and me don’t know much, we can’t imagine how hard it is for you,” Charlie shook his head affirmatively as Meatloaf spoke. You place your hands on theirs and sighed.

“Thanks…” You muttered out quietly, “It really is hard. After the accident, I thought Steven was dead until I saw the news broadcast about him.” Charlie and Meatloaf nod as you continue.

“In a way, he sort of is. He doesn’t even remember me most of the time,” You lean forward and press your face into your hands, elbows resting on the guardrail, “Everytime he forgets…It’s like losing him over and over again.” 

The tears finally fell freely down your face and the two henchmen looked at each other panicking, not knowing what to do to comfort you. They let you cry while rubbing your back and Charlie offered you a tissue when most of your crying was done.

“Thank you…” You sniffled before wiping your face and blowing your nose.

“Does the Boss really not recognize you?” Meatloaf asked hesitantly. You shook your head.

“Most times, no,” You answered, shoulders slumped and legs tired, “But I took that vow, ‘In sickness and in health.’ How funny…”

The henchmen are silent.

“I mean, really. What horrible act did I commit to deserve this outcome?” The tears were back with a vengeance and you rubbed your eyes extra hard to rid yourself of them, ignoring the sharp sting of your lab coat rubbing your delicate skin so rough, “It’s n-not fair. I’ve don’t nothing but love Steven with all my heart, and when he looks at me-”

You cut yourself off with a sharp inhale, suddenly unable to breath properly.

“He doesn’t even remember me!” You shouted, banging your fists on the railing and noting the small dents in the metal, “It hurts…More than anything, it hurts so bad.”

The henchmen stayed with you for the rest of the night, even helping you cook dinner and having a small sleepover that Dr. Two Brains wasn’t a part of. You looked absolutely tired when the three of you sat down to watch a movie and you ended up only making it half way through it before you were out like a light. The two covered you with a discarded, mostly clean towel that was lying around -- it was the closest to a proper blanket -- before leaving the lair for the night. Charlie glanced at your sleeping form one last time, sympathy for you overflowing, before Meatloaf called him over to the truck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Less than an hour later, Dr. Two Brains made his way into the main part of the lair, finding you passed out on the couch. As he approached, he pulled the towel off of you with a disgusted sneer and immediately noted the smell of cigarettes on you. It was faint even for the mouse nose, but it was definitely cigarettes he was smelling.

Dr. Two Brains grumbled to himself about forcing you to quit while grabbing a proper blanket and pillow from the storage area of the lair. He came back and covered your now shivering body with the thick comforter. There were a few holes in it and it smelled a little funky, but it was better than the damn towel that’s for sure. 

Ever so gently, Dr. Two Brains lifts your head and squeezes the pillow underneath it before dropping you back down. He watched you turn your head in your sleep and sigh. 

The Doctor felt odd as he stared at your face, subconsciously tucking a loose strand of hair out of the way. 

But the longer he looked at you the more you reminded him of his own spouse...

He always did wonder where they went after his accident.

[dearest-painter]

Can I ask headcanons of Dr.Twobrains and Villian reader please

Of course! I went with the non yandere and it did romantic,If you wish to have something else please tell me!

TW/CW:Reader is almost like Twobrains but instead it’s with a ghost with reader,fluff,maybe out of character,Reader is word girl’s cousin so they don’t fight unless it’s playful fights.

-After you both finish your fights with word girl you take care of each other. You two will cuddle or keep adding band aids until you two are basically bandaids

-He always cheers you on as you and word girl fight even if he knows it’s playful,he figured you two were cousin after you two stood together

-He always helps make plans on what you could do.

-When he realizes your almost like him but instead with a ghost he makes sure that you both feel safe. He’ll also find ways that you can use to talk to him when your not in a mood to verbally speak

-You two will randomly cuddle when needed.

-your cousin approves of you two and y’all will babysit her.

I know it was short but overall you two are just wholesome villains in love

[chosonore]

summary: your relationship with aventurine and veritas was easy, a haven of comfort and care - it was one that started gradually but quickly became an integral part in your life. despite your anxities and worries about what people would think about being in a relationship with both of them, you couldn't imagine a life without them

a/n: i haven't written anything in two years :') this is just 1.4k non-coherent word vomit from 3am - i was listening to emei's don't know about the world and it just created this fluffy image in my brain that i needed to get out. i didn't bother proofreading this lol also please don't expect any more or consistent writing, idk how to write anymore

“hey baby, how was work?” aventurine wrapped his arms around you, leaning down to kiss you gently. you inhaled his familiar scent, instantly feeling like you were at home. he swayed back and forth with you for a bit before letting you go, opening the car door for you. “i missed you.”

“i was only gone for a couple of hours.”

“i still missed you.” he gave you a grin before starting the car, driving off to your usual groceries store. it was a routine that you’d gotten used to, one that so effortlessly made you feel safe and loved. aventurine would pick you up from work, you’d get anything you needed from the store before heading home to veritas and your three critters. you’d have dinner together, talk about your day and have a cozy night. 

when you thought about it, you still didn’t quite understand how your relationship came to be. the three of you met at uni and quickly formed an inseparable, unlikely trio. though aventurine and veritas had always been very close despite their frequent bickering, you felt like you just kind of stumbled into this. you felt confusing at first, after all, you harboured feelings for both of them. one kiss had led to another, led to dates and more. it was a relief to know that they felt the same. neither of you had really talked about it as it just gradually grew into what it was now. 

it started with you staying at aventurine’s large penthouse apartment more and more frequently until he finally asked you to move in. then one day, as you were building furniture for your shared bedroom, veritas brought home the three critters. seemingly he had felt pity upon encountering them and couldn’t separate them whatsoever, so he just took them all home. and there it was, your little family. 

you knew you loved them as they did you. but recently, you’d noticed the stares of strangers and in particular your co-workers more. heard some whisperings about your unconventional relationship and it bugged you, even if you tried not to pay attention to it. it was slowly nagging on your soul and heart, making you question the relationship. was it really that odd? or frowned upon? could you really stay in this relationship, grow old and happy together?

“i booked a spa weekend for us at the end of the month!” aventurine’s rambling interrupted your trail of thoughts. he seemed excited as he always was whenever he could spoil you and veritas. “it was about time, both of you have been way too busy. i miss having my two loves all to myself.”

you snorted, taking his hand in yours. the way he incessantly spoiled you had made you uncomfortable at first until you realized that it was one of the ways he liked to express his love. he was happy being able to provide his loved ones with anything they could ask for, so that they would never have to worry about anything ever again. you lifted his hand to press a kiss against it. “i look forward to it.”

as you entered the apartment with aventurine, you were greeted by a rather calm and comfortable atmosphere. soft music was playing and when you rounded the corner, you could see veritas sitting on his armchair with his legs propped on the ottoman. the critters were sitting around him, staring at the book in his hands as if they could read as well. it was an adorable sight, the way their heads moved along with veritas’ hand movements whenever he flipped a page, the way he pet them every now and then. you wished you could secretly snap a photo without him noticing but he always did. then he would scowl and disappear from the frame, grumbling about hating having his photos taken. you never told him that you liked the way his cheeks slightly reddened whenever you did this.

“we’re back,” you called out, placing the bags on the counter before opening your arms and catching a critter that was hopping over to you. it made happy noises as you pet it gently. aventurine put the groceries away, turning slightly to peck veritas’ cheek as he padded over to you. “thought we could make some casserole.”

“we? you mean i cook and you watch,” veritas raised his eyebrows at aventurine. 

he pouted, feigning outrage. “babe, i would never dare to! besides, i know you don’t mind.” he wrapped his arms around veritas, waddling around with him as he watched him cook. veritas would never admit to it but you could tell that he enjoyed himself by the way he leaned to the side to peck aventurine’s lips or absentmindedly held his hands whenever he was monitoring the food. you prepared the critters’ food, smiling as they crowded around you and mewled hungrily. veritas would lean over to spoon feed you every now and then, asking for your opinion on the meal before he finished preparing it. 

after dinner, you spent your evening cuddled between veritas and aventurine as you watched your tv shows together before heading to bed.

aventurine was still showering when you crawled into bed with veritas, yawning tiredly. he propped himself up on his elbow, regarding you with an inquisitive look. “what’s wrong?” he asked pointedly, the kind of tone he used when he meant business and didn’t want any kind of dodging. you knew you couldn’t lie to him, he would see right through you. your first instinct was to say “nothing” but from the corner of your eyes, you could see him raising his eyebrows.

“i’ve just been noticing the looks we get when we’re out together. people stare or give judgemental looks, you know?” you started to explain, fidgeting anxiously. just thinking about this issue made your stomach churn. “then i heard some of my co-workers talk about us, saying judgemental things… some of it was kind of hurtful too.”

you glanced at him, suddenly feeling ashamed that you were even questioning anything. you knew that veritas and aventurine sincerely loved you and cared about you. “honestly, it made me question our relationship. if we can really grow old together like this or if it’s doomed to fail. whether it’s right for me to be with you.”

veritas looked at you as if you just said something unfathomably stupid. “there’s no reason to question what other people are saying. it’s your life to live, is it not?” he retorts and you can tell there’s a sigh in him that wants to escape. “are you happy? with this?” he gestures vaguely between you two and aventurine who just came out of the bathroom and joined you two in bed. “with us?”

“yes? of course i am,” you replied. aventurine glanced between you, trying to figure out what the conversation was about as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him.

“then don’t question it. your happiness is all that matters. why pay any mind to fools that have nothing better to do than talk about you behind your back?” veritas pulled the covers up and gave everyone a quick kiss before reaching out to turn off the lights. his words made you feel more at ease, slowly melting any doubts and anxieties you had been feeling the past few weeks. 

“who hurt you? do i have to make someone disappear?” aventurine asked yawning, placing his head on veritas’ chest. “i love you, always have, always will. what goes on in our relationship is none of their business. i think we’re a good team, aren’t we?”

you knew home was with them - they made you feel safe, loved and comfortable. you couldn’t imagine coming home to only one of them, it wouldn’t feel complete. you liked coming home to aventurine showing you little souvenirs he had brought from his business trips, seeing him play with the critters and the way his eyes lit up with a competitive gleam whenever you tried out new video games together. you liked when veritas sat with you and explained whatever new findings or research he was working on, his well contained enjoyment of being able to share it with you. the way he wrapped his arms around you and placed his chin on your head when he opened up to you and was vulnerable, as best as he could. you knew he didn’t like to be but was willing to in his own way. and you were grateful, for both of them.

when you watched veritas and aventurine bicker about who was hogging the blanket again, leaving the other cold, you knew you wouldn’t change a thing about this relationship for anything in the world. you loved them, with all your heart. there was nothing else you needed from this world - you were happy.

[baeshijima]

it is now officially the 25th which means...

merry christmas everyone !!! regardless of whether u celebrate or not, i hope u all have a lovely day with whoever u spend it with or with urself <33

[sneedlier]

The urge to write some Dr Two Brainz x Reader

[kakusu-shipping]

Not sure if you're still into Inscryption since it's been a while, BUT I just wanted to let you know that whenever I need some comfort, I'll reread "Just say the word and I'll lasso the moon."

It's just such a soft fic. So thank you for writing it 💕

Bestie I am falling apart not only from this knowledge that I've made someone's comfort fic but also because this ask spurred me to go re-read said fic and now I am a pile of mush at 1:30 in the AM over Leshy Inscryption once more.

It was my softest most self-indulgent work I think and I'm so glad other people like it enough to reread it you have made my week homie and I wish you the very best in life going forward

[juice-plums]

Dr Two Brains x reader: Silence

(smutty!!!)

Another night alone in her apartment was perfect for Y/n she watches television on her couch she ate some popcorn while then breaking news came on

News-channel: Dr two brains has escaped and is on the run keep on look out

She gasps as his mugshot was shown Y/n had a forbidden crush on the cheese fiend yeah he steals which is illegal and wouldn’t recommend it there was something about him his white hair or that flirty attitude he had she looked past his red eyes

Y/n bit her lip

She daydreamed about Two brains ramming inside her tight pussy and name calling her bad names like ‘slutty pig’ or ‘My cum dumpster’

she felt her get wet with the sinful thoughts Y/n wants him to pull her hair and smack her ass while she’s begging him to cum

She gets up and walks to her fridge and grabs a decent size cucumber she softly strokes it and walks back to her couch she pulls out a condom package from under her couch and places the condom on the cucumber

she spreads her legs moving her underwear to the side yeah it’s her house she wears no pants or shorts and places the cucumber at the entrance of her vagina and slowly slid it in

She threw her head back hissing the cucumber expanding her vagina making sloshing sounds as she pushes it further in her eyes roll back Y/n hung her mouth wide open Feeling the cucumber kiss her cervix and slowly starts to ram the cucumber in and out of herself

“Gahh~ ooooh~ Two Brains!” she moans squeezing her boob The cucumber hitting all the right places yeah her hands got tired but the sensation was too good she couldn’t stop despite the cramping

Y/n sits up and starts to ride the cucumber which made her crazy she covers her mouth

“Yeah just like that!~” she rides faster she fell off the couch but continues to move the cucumber in and out of her not wanting to lose her climax

“aaah! ahhh!~” She screams squirting on the floor she breaths catching her breath trying to go another round Y/n sits back on her couch legs wide open she was sensitive

A loud smash came through her window a figure stood up they lock eyes she noticed those red eyes from anywhere

the awkward tension she saw his cheeks turn red before he could say anything she rubs her clit she saw his boner grow

Two brains had Y/n’s legs in the air like the mating press as he thrusts into her pussy she made a noise with every thrust he made he was bigger than she imagined

A visible lump was shown through her stomach he groans his raspy voice loving every minute holding her legs like he was gonna break them off slapping sounds filled the apartment pretty sure a broom was knocking on a roof to tell them to keep in down

“Oh yes make me your personal slut!~” she begs holding his body close His hands wrapped around her throat

“Yeah you want that you dirty whore? you want me to make you my own cum dumpster? Well your wish is my command” He thrusts with every word bringing your lips in for a sloppy make out session she loves that raspy voice calling her names

this was even better than I imagined! she thought her still brain dead face as he rams into her hole banging her villain crush She wants his to fill her hole and claim her

“This feels so Good-ah I’m so close!” He rasps she forcefully wraps her legs around his back

“Coat my insides!~ make me yours-aaaaahh!~ Two brains!!” She hollers squirting everywhere Two Brains grunts and strand slamming down and cream pie-ing her insides she lets out a exhausted sigh of satisfaction

as Two brains pulls out some of his jizz went onto her stomach He laughs at her grabbing her mouth to lean in for a sloppy kiss and takes out a pen and paper writing down something

“My number…I want you to call it….I’m free tomorrow and I want you all over again” he places in on her couch then kisses her forehead leaving out through the window

She lays there still in the feeling no doubt about it Y/n will definitely call him tomorrow for another fuck sesh.

[earthtooz]

x : TO LOVE, TO CHANGE: *+ﾟ

in which: you tell veritas you love him. he gets upset with you.

warnings: contrary to what the synopsis implies, it's fluff, i promise. 1k words, first time saying ily, slightly cranky reader, no mentions of reader's gender, dr. ratio being so in love he becomes so soppy and lovestruck. confessions.

a/n: there's a phenomenon that happens whenever i write for dr. ratio, and it's that my heart literally lunges out of my chest and begins typing at the keyboard for me. i should get it checked out. anyways, this is to preemptively celebrate his release!!

“Why- why are you mad?” You exclaim, watching the way Veritas crosses his arms and pouts with the petulance of a child. His gaze has strayed away from your eyes, and all you can do is sit in his lap with your arms hanging at your sides, brain tirelessly racking for all the reasons that you could have angered him.

He doesn’t give you any clues, displeasure brewing in his eyes instead.

“Is it because I said ‘I love you’?”

The purple haired scoffs and sticks up his nose, hair bouncing with his actions whilst you jostle slightly on his legs from the quick action. As much as you love his side profile, you’d love it even more if he spoke to you about what is bothering him.

During this moment, the world stills. You think he’s genuinely mad, and Dr. Ratio’s fury-driven state is not something you should take lightly. Really, you’ve seen it multiple times, and though it has never been directed at you, you hope it never will be. Which is why you sit on his lap now, tensely anticipating his response, and for the answer as to what you did wrong. 

“I was meant to say it first,” he grumbles, losing the arrogance that fills his tone whenever he speaks, air filling with sincerity. 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I was meant to be the one to say ‘I love you’ first.”

Your confusion is tangible at this point. Audible, if you will, because it rings like cicada sing. “Are you being serious?”

“Deadly.”

“You- why, then couldn’t you just have said it?” You sputter, slapping his defined deltoid, concern slowly melting into frustration. “Need I remind you that it was me who confessed to you first as well?”

“Yes, and it was positively the best day of my life.” He says that like it’s a simple fact. No sentiment, no heartfelt declaration, just another logical statement straight from a textbook of his life.

They say to be loved is to be changed, but no matter how much you love Veritas, all he knows is how to be an astronomical pain in your ass. Does he know how scared you were for his answer? You thought you did something unforgivable, or that he didn’t love you enough to respond in kind, or worst of all, that he wanted nothing to do with you anymore?

However, he's acting petty because he was not the first one to say those three words? You frankly don’t know why your heart beats for him as strongly as it does. In fact, you want to whack him over the head with his own codex.  

Placing your hands firmly on his shoulders, you shuffle out of your position from his lap, planting your feet onto the ground. “Oh, you are so infuriating! Pretend I never said anything, I’m going back to my office until you-”

Not even two steps away from him and a hand clasps around your wrist to drag you back to where you started: on Dr. Ratio’s lap. His arms come to wrap around you like chains, leaving no room to wrestle him out.

“I never said you could leave. Especially not after telling me you love me,” he grumbles lowly into your collarbone, breath tickling your skin.

“I’m starting to regret it.” 

“Can’t you at least say it again?”

“I don’t want to,” you grumble, arms snaking up to rest around his shoulders. “You don’t deserve it.” 

“Well, that’s a little harsh. Is this how you treat the ones you love?”

“You haven’t even said anything back,” you pinch his skin. “Talk about harsh.”

“Do you remember the first time we met?” he asks with a fond chuckle, not missing the opportunity to leave kisses in a trail along your skin, making his way up your neck. Then, when his eyes meet yours, you almost crumble in embarrassment at the memory he’s injected into your mind. 

You push him away and raise a hand to shield your eyes from him, clearly reliving a haunting memory. “Please don’t remind me.” 

“Y’know, it’s not everyday someone gets to scold me and be right. If you weren’t so beautiful, I wouldn’t have let it slide, but it’s not everyday a gorgeous genius falls into my lap with guts to challenge me.”

“I was… agitated that day, so stop talking about it, please. In fact, for my sake, please just forget that moment. Completely.”

“Forget about it? Completely?” The scholar asks with genuine shock lacing his tone. “I fell in love with you in that very moment, how can you expect me to stop talking about it? You rendered me a fool in love and expect me to not think about the very moment it happened? Sweetheart, it was a pivotal moment of my life!” 

“Not pivotal enough if you can’t even say ‘I love you, too’.”

“On the contrary, I have loved you longer. I yearned for you in wakefulness and in my dreams. I wished for you to look my way, and when you did, I never wanted your eyes to stray from me. How heartbreaking it was when they did.” His hand has snuck under your shirt now to rub circles on your skin. If he detached from you, he fears you’d slip away from him, and the worst thing you can give him is space. “Do you know how it felt chasing after you because you were the only one out of my reach? For three years, the only thing I wanted was to be yours. You made me an idiot.”

Stunned by his confession and the weight of it, you let him continue, sharp tongue softening. The only motivation you offer is a hand coming to cup his cheek, tucking aside his bangs so you can see his expression in its entirety. 

His gold eyes shine when they look back up at you. For the first time, you feel like you’re seeing the parts of him that Veritas hides from everyone else. 

“I love you.” He continues with heart wrenching devotion. “I’ll continue loving you until the streams stop, the rivers freeze, and the oceans dry. With three hundred thousand, eighty-three thousand, five hundred and seventy-one discovered planets in the cosmos, that phenomenon will approximately take-”

You seal his lips with yours in a gentle kiss, cradling his jaw and swallowing his words. Like wax to fire, Veritas sinks into you, completely helpless against your affections. 

But, oh, you love him, and nothing else in the entire universe matters.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[wrioluvr]

dr ratio x top male reader

this idea came to me in a dream..... dr ratio it seems i've grown quite fond of you. nsfw, gets wholesome at the end

"see, dear, if you insert your cock in me at exactly 67 degrees to the right, we'll both feel the maximum amount of pleasure." dr ratio says confidently as he precisely adjusts your tip at his entrance to his desired position. "are... are you sure?" you can't help but stare incredulously as he treats your cock like it's a mathematical instrument. "don't be silly. i'm always right." lying beneath you, he finally finishes calibrating the angle he wants you to fuck him in. "okay. put it in me now!" he declares triumphantly, clearly proud of his own work. you can't help but shake your head fondly at his antics, his dedication to using his intelligence to "optimise" every situation was rather.... silly sometimes. nevertheless, you push into him slowly, enjoying the sound of him trying the stifle his moan at the feeling of your cock stretching his tight walls. "s-see. i told you so- mmph." his pride meant he'd completely deny this in front of anyone else, the way you'd fucked him like a whore, thrusting in and out of him at "the optimal speed" (according to him), but in private, you were the only one who he wanted to please. increasing your speed of your thrusts without warning, you can't help but smirk at the way he bucks his hips into you, legs shaking and hole clenching even tighter. "you idiot! i told you to follow the speed-" he starts to protest, but he's quickly quietened by your hand over his mouth as you lean forward and whisper lowly to his ear. "you talk too much, baby." he shudders at your words. "need some....stern teaching?" despite the intimacy of the situation, you have to try not to laugh as you repurpose the conversation you had a few days ago to rile him up. hearing you use his own words to tease him, he glares at you, but can't get any words out as his mind is so focused on being pummelled by your cock. it's so pathetic, he thinks to himself. usually his brain is so busy, endlessly pondering, but now he can't think of anything but the way you're fucking him. "shit...i'm gonna cum..." you breathe out as you hold his hips, almost reaching your limit. "do it in me." he says sharply, his attitude coming back in an instant. you have no choice but to oblige, pumping him full as the both of you climax. the two of you collapse onto the bed, a heap of sweaty bodies and unspoken affections. you lie on his chest as he strokes your hair, trying to catch your breath. "well done. plus 10 points." "what the fuck are you saying??" you laugh as you throw the pillow at him. "nothing... just talking to myself." "weirdo."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"you know, you might be an idiot, but you're my idiot." he suddenly says, looking back as you soap his hair in your shared bath, cleaning up from your intense session earlier. his words carry a level of warmth to them despite their bluntness, a warmth he'd never give to anyone else. "stop calling me an idiot." you pout, leaning forward to smack him on the head playfully. "i'm serious! don't worry your pretty head about anything, i can do more than enough thinking for the both of us." you place your arms around him and hug him from the back in a tight embrace, the warm water surrounding you only adding to the romantic atmopshere. "whatever you say, veritas." ♡

omg i based his personality completely off his leaked voicelines and tried to incorporate some of them here hfgdhgd

[pathologicalreid]

nicknames | S.R.

in which you meet the team for the first time, and receive your first nickname

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: reader is referred to as a girl. i have this headcanon where when reid's IQ gets slashed to 60, he'd get so distracted that he'd run on autopilot, hence the willingness to handshake.

word count: 591

a/n: happy finals szn! this fic has been rotting in my brain for weeks and i finally decided to flesh it out. and maybe you should like and reblog this if you enjoy it (no pressure tho)

You were still filtering through your entry paperwork when the rest of the team filtered into the bullpen. David Rossi, who had helped you land this job in the first place, nodded in your direction before disappearing into his office. “Hey!” Someone called from across the bullpen, “Y/N, right?” Emily asked, setting her go bag in the chair at her desk before making her way over to your desk.

Smiling in response, “It’s nice to finally meet you,” you responded, reaching your hand out for her to shake. It was nice to be in the BAU, complete with a promotion from Special Agent to Supervisory Special Agent.

JJ walked over next, waving, and introducing herself as the communications liaison. “I’ve heard a lot of great things from your old CARD team,” she said, “I’m sure your skillset will come in handy here.”

You nodded in affirmation, “That’s the hope!” You answered, smiling at the prospect of your old team singing your praises.

Next, Derek approached, reaching out his hand for you to shake. Of course, you obliged and grinned at him. Part of you felt like you were meeting celebrities, the BAU was a big deal in the bureau. “Derek Morgan,” he introduced himself, “How long were you with CARD?”

“Five years,” you responded, it was a long time for anyone to deal solely with child abduction, but your team had the best rate in the bureau. Besides, you found the work rewarding.

Morgan’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “that’s impressive.”

You nodded, “Thank you. I’m really looking forward to working with you all.”

JJ looked behind her, “Oh, have you met Garcia?” She asked, peeking around the corner to where the technical analyst's office was.

Glancing down at the cat-shaped stress toy that she had given you when you arrived this morning, you smiled, “Yes, she was the first to greet me this morning. I think I’m just missing Dr. Reid.”

As if on cue, the young doctor walked into the bullpen, he had a worn leather satchel over his shoulder and looked like he might be talking to himself, “Reid!” Emily called over, getting his attention, and causing him to change course, approaching your desk. “Come meet, Y/N.”

He adjusted the strap of his satchel over his sweater before you reached out your hand for him to shake. “Oh, he doesn’t…” JJ began, but her voice trailed off when Dr. Reid shook your hand.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Reid,” you said, smiling at him. It felt good to know you had finally met the entire team.

He gave a close-lipped smile in return, “Reid is fine, or Spencer.” He said as you each dropped your hands to your sides.

Noticing everyone looking back and forth between the two of you as if you had already managed to do something wrong, you gathered all of your paperwork in your hands, “I should get this to Hotch.”

The rest of the team got the message and started to disperse to their respective desks, Reid’s being adjacent to yours. “Welcome to the team, pretty girl,” Morgan said to you before turning to his own paperwork.

You hugged your paperwork to your chest as if you were protecting it. Quietly, you muttered, “I really hope that nickname doesn’t stick.”

Across from you, there was a short laugh, almost a scoff. “It will,” Spencer responded in the same reverent tone. For a second, you thought it might be a joke, but you could tell by his facial expression that he was serious.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful

Summary: You have a long weekend that ends rather unexpectedly. Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing. 

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, some brief violence at the end.

A/N: I'm in a bit of a crisis so you're getting a bonus chapter this week. It's a beefy one and I wrote like 90% of it yesterday, just had the brain sludge by the time I was close to finishing and decided to rest before I finished and edited. Things are starting to get a big suggestive here, so as a reminder, this fic will have NSFW content in later chapters so please do not interact with it if you are under 18. I'd hate to have to block you.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“How are you settling in?” 

“Fine.” You shrug. 

“Any instinct to nest at all?” 

You shake your head. “No.” 

“That’s fine.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down. “It’s only been just over a week. Have you started kneeling for Captain Price yet?” 

You shake your head again. “No.” 

Dr. Keller tilts her head. “Why not?” 

You shrug again. “He hasn’t brought it up.” 

“Is that something you’d like to start doing?” 

Her question catches you off guard again. You’re not used to being asked what you want, afterall you’re an omega. That’s not important. You’re here to serve. To do as you’re told. You remember watching your mother kneel for your father while he watched TV, her dazed, glazed over eyes staring at nothing as he almost seemed to hypnotize her into the shell of a perfect omega. It was your first taste of truly how much power alphas could hold over omegas. One hand on the back of your neck and it’s over. 

“I...I don’t know.” You say, picking at your sleeve. 

“You’re allowed to want things too.” Dr. Keller leans forward just slightly, giving you a smile. “I highly doubt Captain Price will make much of a fuss if you ask for something you need. He cares about you. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here alone.” She tilts her head at you, watching you pick at your sleeve. “Is there anything you want or maybe need that you haven’t asked for?” 

Softer blankets. A fluffier pillow. Different body wash and shampoo. New clothes. A picture or a poster or something to make your room seem less clinical. Your instincts to finally start kicking in. Price to want you as much as he’s supposed to. Ghost to like you. To go back in time and let Soap kiss you. 

To go back in time and never present as an omega. 

“No.” You finally answer, shaking your head. “I’m fine.” 

Dr. Keller stares at you for a long moment. You avoid her gaze, picking at the seam of your sleeve. “I know you’re going to get tired of me saying this, but it’s important that you understand that this is a safe space for you. Everything that we discuss, everything that you say in here stays between you and me. Doctor-patient confidentiality is something I firmly believe in, even when it comes to alpha/omega relationships. Okay?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” You say quietly, still avoiding her gaze. 

She continues to stare at you for a moment before she leans back on the couch again, shuffling some papers around. “The two betas, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish. How are you getting along with them?” She continues with her questions.

“Fine.” You lean back in your chair, hoping it might swallow you whole. “They’re easiest to get along with.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “Good. I’m a strong advocate for organic pack bonding. Helps avoid any dynamic struggles or false instincts down the line. How are you sleeping?” 

“Fine I guess.” You shrug. “I nap a lot.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Omegas need a lot of sleep and I can imagine adjusting to a new schedule has been rough.” Dr. Keller moves the papers to the couch next to her, looking up at you. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” 

You hesitate, pulling at the seam of your sleeve. It’s beginning to unravel a bit from your nervous picking. You’ll have to fix it. Dr. Keller is right, though. You could just ask for a new one. Price had told you they had a budget for your needs, plus they do get paid well. Anything you needed, they would gladly get for you. 

You just have to ask. 

It’s the asking that you’re not sure you can do. It feels strange to ask anything of your new pack. They’re supposed to be the ones needing things from you. If Soap had wanted to kiss you, he could have. Instead he left it up to you. He let you decide. You wonder if Price’s hesitation to move forward has been because he’s waiting on you. 

They’re all waiting on you, except maybe Ghost. They’re waiting on you to make the first moves, on you to set the pieces on the board. What is the first move? How do you set the pieces? Did you even need to? Would they fall into place organically if you just left them alone? Or would the tension continue to build up, would you continue to affect them until it became too much and the pressure causes everything to blow? 

“I’m affecting them.” You say, the words slipping out before you can stop them. 

Dr. Keller tilts her head as she stares at you. “What do you mean?” 

“They’re soldiers. They’re good soldiers with years and years of training, that’s why they're here. But...but I’m changing that. I asked Price if I could go with them and watch them run a training course cause I read in a book that I should get to know them and the things they like and so I was just curious what they do during the day when I’m not with them. He let me watch and he told me their top speeds running the training course but...none of them met those times with me there.”

You take a deep breath, the words pouring out of you easily now. You feel as if you’re not even thinking of them, not even measuring them or using caution as you normally would in any conversation. They’re slipping out from somewhere deep inside and now that you’ve opened that dam, you can’t stop it. 

“Price made them run through it five times and they still couldn’t match their top speeds. He said it was a good thing that they figured that out, that they need to know how I’m affecting them and how to adjust to me. And every time they ran through it, I couldn’t stop thinking about...” 

You take another breath, the air catching in your lungs. Your fingers are shaking, your body sinking deeper and deeper into the chair, almost as if you’re trying to get it to swallow you whole. As if the chair might wrap its arms around you and pull you into its softness and keep you there until you can’t breathe and it suffocates you. 

“What if it was me? What if they were having to rescue me? I know that’s a risk, a low one, but it’s still a risk. The CIA and Kate warned me that I could become a target if the wrong person found out about me. That’s why I can’t know anything about what they do because that puts me at more of a risk, and I could be a threat to them and the entire world if something got out that wasn’t supposed to.” 

You’re breathing heavily as the words finally come to a stop. Dr. Keller’s eyes are shining with sympathy as she stares at you. This is the most you’ve ever opened up to her, the most words you feel you’ve ever spoken to her in the two times now that you’ve met.

It feels good. It feels really good to voice your thoughts and your fears to someone on the outside, someone you can trust won’t tell anyone. You couldn’t voice these fears to your pack. They’re used to this kind of thing. They live with the knowledge they could die at any point, that any mission might be their last. How many lives have they seen lost, how many close calls have they had? You’ve seen scars already on arms, hands, faces. How many others are hidden where you can’t see? 

How many scars do they have inside, too? 

“I want you to know that your fears are very valid.” Dr. Keller says, her voice soft. “Being involved in the military comes with a lot of risks, and then you get to places like this and those risks only get greater and greater. I can’t promise you that something like that won’t ever happen, because we have no way of knowing. The risk is not zero for a reason.” 

Dr. Keller stands from the couch, moving to the chair next to you. The calming beta scent washes over you, and you know you have to be stinking up the room. She turns the chair slightly to face you, leaning forward onto her knees. You can see the imprints on the sides of her nose from where she’d been wearing glasses earlier. 

“That risk is also only low for a reason. Your identity has been well hidden, just like those of your pack’s. You’re on a well protected and secure military base. This place is a black square on Google Maps. I know, I tried looking it up when I found out where I was being assigned.” She reaches out, squeezing your arm gently. “And I highly doubt your pack would ever let anything happen to you. Packs are highly protective over their omegas. Even bad alphas can’t fight that instinct when their pack is threatened. Your pack would quite literally go to war for you.” 

She is right, you know she is. Yet that fear continues to wiggle at the back of your mind. You know they’d never let anything happen to you, but they’re going to start leaving soon. What if something happens while they’re not here? Who will help you then? The other soldiers? The betas that stare and the alphas that catcall you? 

“I guess you’re right.” You say, continuing to pick at your sleeve. At this rate, by the time your heat starts, you’ll have unraveled the whole sweatshirt.  

The buzz of your phone on your nightstand pulls you from your half asleep state. Your book is on the floor, having dropped from your hands and slid off your bed as you drifted off. Your lamp is still on, casting a warm glow around your room. You prefer the softer light compared to the fluorescent overhead, as most omegas do. There’s something too clinical and sterile about fluorescents. 

You grab your phone, pushing yourself up onto your elbow as you try to blink the sleepiness away. It’s not terribly late, but you’ve been feeling the exhaustion all day since your conversation with Dr. Keller. 

“Be ready by 0500 tomorrow. Wear something meant for the outdoors.” 

It’s a text from Price, your brow furrowing as you read it over. Five in the morning on a Saturday? That’s the earliest you’ve had to get up since your arrival on base. And wear something meant for the outdoors? You can only imagine what he has planned for the day you had been planning on spending sleeping. 

You make a quiet noise of indignation as you text back in confirmation, setting an alarm so you can be ready by 5 am. Not up by 5 am, ready by 5 am. You have half a mind to call him, or to text back asking why he feels you need to be up before the sun. You know that’s the normal time they begin their mornings during the week, usually when you hear them up and moving around, getting ready to go work out. That’s usually when you roll over and go back to sleep for another hour and a half before your own alarm gets you up for breakfast. 

You pout a little as you set your phone back on your nightstand, reaching down to grab your book and set it next to your phone. You lay back down on your bed, turning off your lamp and bathing the room in darkness. Well, it’s not totally dark. The light from the lamp outside shines in your window, casting cold shadows across the walls and floor. You’ve never been a fan of total darkness. You’d grown used to having some light in the room at The Institute. One of your roommates had insisted on having a nightlight, and there were many nights you were grateful for it as you laid awake at the mercy of your racing mind. 

A nightlight. 

You add it to the mental list of things you want, but you’ll never feel brave enough to ask for. 

Your alarm rings too early in the morning, your hand lifting to silence it quickly. 4:30 am doesn’t feel like a real time as you rise in darkness, hand fumbling for the switch to your lamp. You glare into the dimly lit room, trying to blink the sleepiness from your eyes. How desperately you want to curl back up under the blankets and sleep until someone knocks on the door to check on you because you’ve slept so long into the day. 

You don’t doubt Price will knock in about 30 minutes to get you up. He’ll be disappointed if you ignore him, you think. He wouldn’t punish you if you went against his wishes, would he? 

You don’t know that. 

You haven’t even thought to push that boundary, nor have you discussed it. You don’t want to. You’re a good omega. 

You’re a good omega. 

You repeat it over and over as you get yourself ready, splashing cold water on your face to wake yourself up. You silently thank Kate as you pull on a pair of cargo pants and hiking boots, assuming that’s what Price means by “something meant for the outdoors.” Had she bought the items in anticipation of something like this happening? You are on a military base. You should have expected you’d be pulled into something like this eventually. 

You’re debating on a jacket by the time the knock comes, right at 5 am. You wonder how long Price has been standing in the hallway, or if he’s perfected arriving right on the dot after years of expected punctuality. You decide on the jacket after checking the weather, slipping it on as you open the door. He hadn’t mentioned needing anything, not that you own any sort of supplies for the outdoors anyway. 

He doesn’t say anything as you open the door, instead motioning with his head to follow. You quietly close your door, expecting the others to be waiting for you, but their doors are all closed and they’re nowhere to be seen. You feel slightly nervous as you follow Price out into the cold morning air, glad you decided on the jacket as your breath steams from your lips. 

Price is dressed in his usual boots and cargo pants with a cargo jacket and a beanie instead of a bucket hat. There’s two packs leaning against the side of the building, Price grabbing one and approaching you. 

“What are we doing?” You ask quietly as he helps you put on the backpack, buckling it across your chest. 

“Going for a hike.” He says, putting on the other backpack. 

“Why?” You ask as he turns on a flashlight, handing it to you before turning on another one for himself. 

“I’ll explain when we get there.” He says simply, motioning for you to follow him. 

You hesitate for half a moment. A hike in the dark? The base is surrounded by forest, but you sometimes forget due to the sprawling nature of the buildings, and your usual ventures outside the barracks being to either the mess or the medical center, all of which were central on the base. 

Why does he feel the need to hike in the dark? Surely it’s more dangerous, especially for someone not quite so physically inclined like you. If he wanted to go on a hike, why hadn’t he just said that to begin with? Maybe he would have, had you asked why last night instead of just immediately agreeing. 

Going into the woods alone in the dark with an alpha you barely know. 

Anxiety twists in your stomach for a moment before you force your feet forward, walking fast to catch up to him. He leads you down one of the roads on base, your boots crunching as the ground changes from asphalt to gravel. Your anxiety doesn’t lessen any as the trees loom high above you in the darkness, the forest like a black void before you. 

Your brain thinks up all the land predators that might exist in England. Do they have bears? You’ve seen Brave, but that’s in Scotland. What about big cats like cougars or mountain lions? Are there racoons in England? 

You’re on a military base, you think. Surely they have means to keep out large predators that might be dangerous. 

Your pack won’t let anything happen to you. 

Dr. Keller’s words float through your mind as you follow Price through the underbrush and into the trees. You’re not following any path, at least that you can see, though your experiences in the outdoors have been very limited since you left home. Your dad liked to camp and hike, and often you and your siblings were subjected to his weekend and holiday trips into the wilderness. 

You missed them in the early days at the Institute. You missed a lot of things back then. 

“What’s eating you back there?” Price asks as you weave through trees and underbrush. 

“There’s nothing...dangerous out here...is there, sir?” You ask, narrowly avoiding taking a branch to the face. “Bears or mountain lions?” 

Price chuckles. “The worst thing you might find is a stray badger or a snake that got through the fence somehow.” 

“Oh.” You say, shining the flashlight around you. “That’s good.” 

Price stops, turning to face you. “You’re fretting.” 

“Well, we’re in the woods in the dark at an ungodly hour and you won’t tell me why, sir.” You pout. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks, staring down at you with a hard look in his eyes. 

You stare up at him, your grip tightening on the flashlight in your hand. “Should I trust you?” 

He straightens up a bit, the corner of his lips twitching. “That’s something you have to decide.” He turns back around, starting to walk again. “All I can do is my best to try and prove myself to you. In the end, you’re the one that decides if I’m trustworthy or not.” 

You’ve never thought of it that way. He could do everything in his power to get you to trust him, but in the end it is your decision. He hasn’t proven you wrong yet, but then again...it’s only been a week. You’ve known him for a week and you’re following him through the woods alone in the dark. 

Your brothers would have a fit if they saw you right now. 

“Do you trust me?” You find yourself asking as you continue to trek through the woods, narrowly avoiding hurting yourself on various occasions. 

“You haven’t given me reason not to.” He answers, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. “I’d prefer it stayed that way.” 

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, sir. I hardly think I’m much of a threat on any term. Well, at least I don’t think I am. Ghost seems to disagree.” 

Price lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head. “Simon...Simon is a unique case. He’s good at his job, but that makes it hard for him to succeed in other areas. I’m sure Johnny has told you how much Simon couldn’t stand him at first. Now look at them.” He chuckles warmly, almost fondly. “He only sees you as a threat in your nature.” 

You frown, glancing up at the sky. It’s beginning to turn grey with dusk, the trees seeming to come alive around you in the dim light. “What do you mean by that, sir?” 

“You’re an omega. To bond with an omega, there is a degree of vulnerability required by the alpha. Being around omegas requires an openness that can be frightening if you’re not used to it.” He explains. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Simon isn’t the most open man.” 

You snort quietly. “Hadn’t noticed, sir.” 

Price chuckles at your answer. “You’re threatening to him, because you’re a challenge. Give him time. This entire situation is an adjustment for all of us, just as I’m sure it is for you too.” 

You don’t know how to respond to that statement. It is an adjustment. Joining any pack was, but a pack like this...a pack that has you tramping through the woods at 6 am for a reason you don’t even know yet is a major adjustment. 

Price stops after the sun has come up, taking a moment next to an outcropping of rocks. He clips your flashlight to your bag before unzipping it, passing you a bottle of water. You take it gladly, your mouth feeling dry after walking for so long. 

“How much further?” You ask as he drinks his own water. 

“Quite a ways.” He answers. 

“Can I know why we’re doing this yet?” You ask as he zips your water back into your backpack. 

“Not yet.” He says, continuing onward.

You let out an exasperated sigh, but follow him anyway. You don’t have much of a choice. 

Your legs are beginning to get tired, and you’re starting to feel a bit hungry. You’re not sure if you should say anything, or if he’d even stop. You assume he’s packed food, or at least you hope so. You’re going to get grumpy if you’re traversing all over the forest for hours with nothing to eat. 

Price slows his pace a bit as you approach what you think is a clearing. You can see a break in the trees ahead, the sun coming through brighter here. You’re sore and tired, your phone telling you you’ve been walking for just over two hours. 

How big is this base?

You break through the treeline, finding a small clearing with what looks like a fire watch tower in the middle of it. It’s not what you were expecting, the many scenarios of why you had been dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour and forced to hike through the woods you’ve been thinking up the last two hours, did not end quite like this. You stare up at the tower, your head tilting back to take it in. 

“Not scared of heights, are you?” Price asks, standing beside you. 

“Maybe.” You answer, eyeing the staircase winding around it to get to the top. 

“Come on.” He says, nudging you forward gently. “Up the stairs.” 

The last thing you want to do after walking for two hours is climb a never ending staircase, but you don’t think you have much of a choice. Perhaps you can finally sit once you get to the top, and maybe you’ll even get to eat. 

Price follows behind you as you take the steps, climbing slowly. Your legs are screaming, your feet aching in your boots. You wouldn’t be surprised if they’re bleeding a little, or if you wind up with blisters. You’re breathing heavily by the time you get to the top, sweat beading on your brow. Price doesn’t even seem winded behind you, and you’re sure he could have jogged up the steps if he wanted to. 

The top of the tower is mostly empty except for a small table and two chairs. There’s no windows, the tower open between the railing and the roof. Price sets his bag on the table, unzipping it. You sink into one of the chairs, letting your bag drop to the floor. 

“Can I know why we’re here now?” You ask him. 

“Drink some water and take a breath first.” He says, pulling a couple packets out of his bag. MRE’s. 

You dig your bottle out of your bag, taking note of the other contents inside. A few snack bars, a couple MRE’s of your own, another unopened bottle of water, and a book. There’s things in the other pockets but you don’t bother looking, guzzling down more water. 

You stand from your chair, your legs almost buckling in protest as Price gets the MRE’s cooking. You lean against the railing, looking down over the forest that stretches out as far as you can see below. 

“Can I know now?” You ask, knowing there has to be a good reason for him to bring you out here. 

“A training exercise.” He says finally. 

“A training exercise?” You frown, turning to look at him over your shoulder. It wasn’t a training exercise for you, was it? 

“Sometimes when we get a specific target on a mission, the only thing we have to go off of is a general location and a scent.” He explains. “We have to be able to track that scent effectively, sometimes for miles. We run training exercises out here to test their ability to track scents to hunt down a target.” 

You stare at the sprawling woods, beginning to understand. “So, they’re hunting a scent that will lead them here?” 

Price chuckles lowly, his hands coming to rest on the railing on either side of you. Your stomach flutters as he leans in close, his scent strong in your nose as his breath fans your ear. “Technically, they’re hunting you.” 

Your knuckles go white as they grip the railing, your blood pulsing in your veins. You’re well aware that some alphas like to hunt their omegas. There’s some primal urge deep within your brains to chase and be chased. You’re well aware of how it usually ends, the thought making your stomach clench. 

“You gave me the idea.” Price says, the warmth of his body radiating through your jacket. “When you asked to watch them train, I saw how you affected them, I thought...maybe you can be useful for their training afterall.” 

“Do they...do they know it’s me?” You ask as he steps back from you. You fight the urge to whine at the loss of proximity. 

“They do now.” He says with a smirk. “They’ve already started, so if they can follow your scent successfully, then they’ll be here in about an hour.” He says, looking at his watch. 

You frown a little. “But...we walked for two hours.” 

He smiles a little, pointing to a break in the trees below you hadn’t noticed until now. “That trailhead is a 20 minute hike back to base.” 

Your frown deepens. “But-” 

“We weren’t walking in a straight line.” He explains. “We doubled back and recrossed the trail several times to try and confuse them, just as someone running from them would do.” He passes you one of the MRE’s. “That’s what I want you to do, if it ever comes to it. You don’t fight unless you have no other choice. You always try to run first.” 

“Yes, sir.” You say, sitting down again. You don’t think you’d do much damage fighting anyway, but you don’t tell him that. 

You open the package, peeking at the contents. Some sort of potato hash, you think, but you don’t really care. You’re so hungry you’ll gladly eat the mystery re-hydrated food. Price sinks into the other chair with a quiet sigh, digging into the food. It’s quiet out in the woods, the only other sound besides the two of you the sounds of birds. 

You’ve always loved the woods, the quiet serenity of such isolation. You could imagine Price living in a log cabin miles from civilization, with animals and his own garden, happily living in quiet peace away from the stresses of life and war. You blame the fluttering in your stomach on the lingering thoughts of a chase, of a hunt. The thought of running, trying to evade soldiers who train to hunt others by their scents has goosebumps forming on your skin. 

They’re not from the cold either. 

The sun has disappeared behind clouds, the grey weather of England quickly becoming normal to you. You haven’t seen the sun much since you landed in London two weeks ago, and you’re sure you’re not going to see much of it for quite a long while. 

“What’s got you all twitchy over there?” Price asks, breaking the silence. 

You turn to look at him, your mouth open a bit in surprise. “How can you tell?” 

“I’ve been trained to notice small details, sweetheart.” He says, grinning at you. “Your fingers always get fidgety first. Like you’re looking for something to do with them. Usually they disappear beneath your sleeves, or you start picking at your clothes. Your scent changes too. Subtly, but still noticeable.” 

Oh god. You wince a little bit. He can still smell you, even outdoors in an open area. 

“Your eyes start to move, looking all over the place, like you’re searching for something, or trying not to stare at one place too long.” He continues, making you want to sink deeper and deeper into the chair until you disappear. Of course he can read you like a book. They all probably can. “Your breathing always picks up, fast enough it’s noticeable if you’re paying attention. It’s easy to set you off too, sweet little thing.” 

Warmth floods your face at his words and his stare, the back of your neck prickling. You meet his gaze across the table, the look in his eyes making you feel like you want to crawl under the table and hide. You hate that he can read you so easily. You won’t be able to hide anything from him. 

He probably knows you already have. 

You continue to hold his gaze, not backing down despite the intense tickling at the back of your neck. Touch alphas like a challenge, you repeat it over and over in your head. 

Don’t back down. 

Don’t back down. 

Don’t back down. 

A quiet growl rumbles through his chest, a shiver shooting down your spine so violently it nearly steals your breath. You fight the urge to bear your throat to him in submission, your head tilting back just slightly as your eyes squeeze closed. You’re panting, warmth pooling in your stomach as he chuckles lowly. He’s won, he knows it. You were never going to win. Nature was set against you. Your nature is to submit to him. 

“Innocent little thing, aren’t ya?” He says, pulling a cigar from one of his pockets. 

You know he smokes, you know they all do. You’ve smelled it on them many times, and it was to be expected. Your father hadn’t started until after he joined the Marines. Your mother hated it. “Dirty habit.” She always whispered as she smelled his uniform and the laundry he brought home from deployment. 

He could have had worse ones, you always thought. 

You can’t help but watch his lips curl around the cigar, the scent of tobacco permeating the air. His eyes are still on you, your own lips tingling a bit. You think back to how close you had been with Soap, inches from having your first real kiss. You regret it a bit now, not letting him kiss you. He wouldn’t have known he was your first, except perhaps by your awkwardness. 

You wonder how many times they’ve all been kissed. You wonder how many times they've kissed each other. You wonder how many barrack bunnies Price has been with, how many other omegas he’s been with. You can’t imagine Ghost being one for barrack bunnies, but then your mind sinks somewhere deeper. Ghost in his mask with an omega bent over the side of his bed, his hand wrapped around the back of their neck... 

Another shiver runs down your spine, your lower body beginning to pulse in time with your heart. 

“What’s going through that head of yours?” Price asks, still staring at you. 

“Soap almost kissed me a couple days ago.” You admit, not trusting yourself not to admit to the other things you’re thinking about. 

Price’s brows lift in surprise. “Did you not want him to?” 

Want. There’s that word again. You keep hearing it, but you’re not entirely sure what it means anymore. He’s asking to be sure that Soap didn’t force you into anything, even though you can’t imagine the beta doing such a thing. Betas usually weren’t aggressive without good reason, not like alphas. 

“Well...no, that’s not it...” You say, your face burning as you begin to regret your choice of topic. “I...I haven’t kissed anyone before...well, not like a real kiss. At The Institute, there was this omega, she was...progressive. Nothing they tried could break her of that and she got into the heads of a few other omegas. One of my bunkmates decided she didn’t want an alpha to be her first kiss, so...I volunteered.” 

Price continues to stare at you, a dark look in his eyes. You know some alphas like to watch omegas together. You’ve seen it in movies, things your brothers would put on when they were babysitting, things that would have gotten them hit over the head if your father found out. 

“Is that so?” He finally says, flicking some of the ash from the end of his cigar. “Not even a real kiss before you presented?” 

You shake your head. “No. I was...the weird kid in school. Most people considered it social suicide to be around me.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “I bet quite a few of them are kicking themselves now.” 

“Why didn’t you want Soap to kiss you?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. He’s still wondering if he needs to have a long chat with the young Sergeant, or perhaps take other action. 

“Well...it wasn’t so much that I didn’t want it.” You say. “I just...thought you might be upset...if you weren’t my first...” You swallow nervously at his stare. “Since you’re pack alpha...you have the right to claim-” 

“I wouldn’t care.” He cuts you off, almost as if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of him having all the rights to claim you. As if he was uncomfortable with the idea of holding a claim over someone else. “If you want your first kiss to be with one of the others, then you shouldn’t keep yourself from what you want.” 

His words echo Dr. Keller’s. It confuses you, their willingness to allow you to want. You’re an omega, you don’t get to want. You get told what to do, what to wear. You get told what to want. You don’t make decisions, you sit and be a good omega for your alpha. 

“I don’t know what I want.” You say quietly. 

“Think about it.” He says, stubbing out his cigar. “I won’t be upset. Makes me feel a little better, in truth. Makes me feel less like an old creep trying to steal your innocence.” 

You try not to smile at his words. “I mean...you are, in a way.” 

He tsks at you but his eyes are playful as he checks his watch. “You’re trouble. We’ve got a few minutes before the hour is up. Let’s see if they can beat it.” 

You stare out at the treeline, taking deep gulps of the cool air to try and calm yourself as you wait for the others to arrive. You’re still tingling a bit from your conversation with Price, that slight tickle still crawling across the back of your neck. You want him to hold you there, feel his calloused skin against yours, feel the strength of his fingers as they press into your skin. You want him to take all the turmoil away, the fear and the insecurity and the confusion. 

You want to kneel for him. 

You’re saved from your thoughts as a familiar figure breaks through the treeline, big and hulking and wearing a skull on his face. You’ve never seen him in this mask before, only ever seeing him in his balaclava. It’s a haunting image, only his eyes visible as he looks up at the top of the tower. Soap and Gaz appear behind him, the three of them making for the staircase. 

Their boots echo on the steps as they race to the top, Soap the first one to appear with a wide grin. 

“Aye, we found the target!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you into the air and spinning.

You yelp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hang on for dear life. He smells like musk and sweat, and you can’t help but wonder if they ran here. He sets you back on your feet, your legs aching in protest after sitting for too long. The soreness of your morning hike has caught up to you, and you’ll be feeling it for a few days. 

“Not bad.” Price says, looking at his watch. “For the first time with a new scent.” He grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get back and you can have the rest of the day off.” 

You let out a whine in protest as Price grabs your backpack, gaining the attention of the four men. “You mean we have to walk back too?” 

“It’s not even a kilometer.” Gaz says with a grin. 

You pout. “I don’t know how far that is! I already had to walk for two hours this morning. My legs hurt.” 

“You didn’t stretch before you started?” Soap asks. 

“No! I didn’t know we’d be hiking halfway across the country when I was told to get up at 5 am!” You continue to pout. 

“Come on, you’ll survive.” Price says, clipping your backpack across your chest again. “You can sleep for the rest of the day.” 

You definitely have blisters, the sides of your feet burning as you walk down the stairs. You’re going to take a very long shower when you get back to base, and then crawl into bed and sleep until someone inevitably knocks because they’re worried about you. You’re still pouting, not having even thought about how you were going to get back to base. 

Soap stops at the bottom of the steps, turning to glance at you behind him as he bends down slightly. “Hop on, hen.” 

It takes you a moment to conceptualize what he’s doing before you break out in a grin, putting your hands on his shoulders to hoist yourself onto his back. His hands grip the backs of your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on as he carries you piggy-back style. 

“I’ve lifted weights heavier than you, bonny.” He says, not seeming to struggle at all with carrying you. 

“Well, omegas are supposed to be small.” You say, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“Aye, like a wee bairn.” Soap laughs. 

He carries you all the way back to base, barely even breathing heavily by the time you break the treeline. The rocking motion of being carried, along with your exhaustion, has lulled you into a daze, your head leaning against his as you desperately fight sleep. 

You’re jostled awake as Soap gently bounces you on his back. “We’re back, hen.” 

You grumble sleepily, holding onto him tighter. “Comfy.” 

“You’ll be comfier in bed, love.” Gaz says, stroking your hair. 

“Carry me.” You murmur, both of them freezing. 

“You sure about that, hen?” Soap asks. “You wan’t tae let us in your space?” 

“Mmm...yeah.” You murmur, nuzzling Soap’s shoulder. 

You miss the silent conversation between them in your half asleep state, the way Gaz’s hand hesitates on the knob, their slow, cautious steps into your space. It was a big deal, infringing upon an omega’s space. It’s sacred. One could only enter with permission, or if it was an emergency. Infringing on that space without permission could be detrimental. 

Soap gently lowers you onto your bed, helping you curl up on your side. Gaz unties your boots, setting them on the floor next to the bed before pulling off your socks. He lets out a quiet hiss as he spots your raw and blistered feet. 

“That’s going to hurt later.” He whispers. “No wonder she didn’t want to walk back.” 

“Didnae say nothing either.” Soap says, his fingers trailing your cheek. 

“Stubborn little omega.” 

Gaz’s words are the last you hear before you’re lost to sleep, your brain forcing you to give in to your exhaustion finally. 

It’s knocking at the door that wakes you. You’re not sure what time it is, or what planet you’re on. Your eyes are crusty with sleep, your pillow damp from drooling. You’re in your bed in the barracks, tucked under a blanket. You vaguely remember giving Gaz and Soap permission to enter before you were out again. 

It’s still daylight, judging by the light around the edges of your curtains. Or maybe you had slept through the day and it was morning. You can’t tell, feeling a bit like you were hit by a bus and jumped dimensions. 

“C’mon lass, ye got tae eat at least one meal today.” Soap’s voice calls through the door. 

You let out a groan, pushing yourself up to sit. You haven’t even changed or showered, but your shoes have been removed. You flex your toes, wincing at the sharp pain from them. You pull the blanket off, staring down at your bandaged feet. They must be as blistered and raw as they had felt in your shoes. You don’t want to get up. You’re going to be sore and probably walking with a limp. 

You know what they’re going to think. 

The stares you’ll get. 

Soon it will be for that reason, though, you think. Why not let them think it now? Then maybe by then they’ll be used to it and it’ll be much less mortifying for you. 

You get up, padding barefoot to the door. You open it, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?” Your voice sounds rough with sleep, your tongue feeling heavy. 

“Almost 1800 hours.” He answers. “Price let ye sleep. He and Gaz already ate. Had something tae take care of.” 

You let out a quiet groan as you rub your eyes. You slept all day, past lunch and nearly past dinner. You likely would have kept sleeping, had they let you, but then you’d be up at an ungodly hour having to scrounge for food in the rec room. 

“Get some shoes on.” Soap says. “We’ll get food in ye, then ye can sleep more.” 

You let out a quiet grumble but do as he says, grabbing your most comfortable pair of shoes before following him out of the barracks. You let your hand slip into his, the base less populated on the weekend. The mess is still busy, though, most of those that stay keeping their schedules even over the weekend. 

Soap helps you make your tray before finding Ghost sitting at a table. You deposit your tray across from them before going to grab something to drink. You look over the options, your sleep-drunk brain trying to decide on what you need. 

“I recommend coffee.” A voice says behind you. 

You spin around, looking up at a familiar face. Your stomach twists nervously, the back of your neck prickling. It’s the soldier that had been staring at you your second day on base, the one Ghost had scared off with his glare. 

“You look like you need it.” He says, giving what you assume is supposed to be a friendly smile, except to you it looks like the grin of a hungry wolf in a storybook, and you’re the injured rabbit about to be devoured. You flinch just slightly as he holds out a hand. “I’m Corporal McKinney.” 

You don’t want to take his hand, you don’t want to touch him at all. Catcalling you could handle, the stares and the whistles were nothing. None of them have been so brave as to approach you before now, and you’re starting to realize you prefer it that way. 

An overwhelming scent suddenly washes over you, the prickling at the back of your neck intensifying. It’s rich and deep, the scent of leather and gunpowder lacing the ozone-like tang of anger, of danger. 

“Can I help you, Corporal?” The deep voice rumbles behind you, the warmth close enough all you’d have to do was lean back slightly and you’d be touching him. 

The soldier’s eyes lift from you to Ghost behind you, the wicked gleam to them fading as he stares down the giant alpha. “No, sir.” The soldier swallows thickly. “Just thought I’d introduce myself to the new omega on base. Figured we’d be seeing a lot of her around.” 

“She’s no concern of yours.” Ghost says, a dangerous rumble vibrating at the edge of his voice. “You were given the briefing.” 

He hesitates and you know he’s measuring the risk of staying, of saying something else. It’s not just the threat of a dangerous alpha, but also of his superior. “Of course, sir.” He finally says, eyeing you once more before he turns on his heel, leaving the mess. 

“What do you want?” 

You turn on your heel, staring up at Ghost. You’re shaking a little, staring up at him wide-eyed. You no longer feel the haze of sleep, wide awake and alert. Ghost is staring down at you, his scent far less prominent than it had been before.

“To drink.” He motions to the selection, waiting on you to answer. 

You stare at the options, your brain trying hard to snap back into the present, to comprehend what you’re looking at. You’re on edge, on high alert after that confrontation. 

“W-Water please.” You manage to stutter out, 

“Go sit back down. I’ll get it.” He says, turning his back to you. 

You scurry back to the table, still trembling as you take your seat again. You’re getting stares, likely from the change in your scent. It’s alerting every alpha and beta in close proximity, their instincts reacting to the scent of fear, of an threatened omega. 

“Ye alright, hen?” Soap asks, giving you a worried look. The scent of beta washes over you, Soap projecting his scent to try and cover yours and calm you all at once. 

You nod, trying to swallow the panic before you alert the entire mess to your current emotional state. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.” 

Ghost returns with a glass of water, setting it in front of you before taking his seat again. 

“Thank you.” You murmur, taking a long drink of it. It’s ice cold, the sensation shocking you back into reality a bit. 

You’re still trembling slightly as you eat, the back of your neck still prickling. You glance around the quickly emptying mess, eyes following every person that walks too close to the table. You know you’re safe. Soap and Ghost would make quick work of anyone who tried anything. 

Ghost did make quick work of the alpha that had approached you. 

You’re still in a bit of disbelief that Ghost had come to your aid. You remember the anger burning in his scent, the rumble at the edge of his voice. An alpha poised for a fight. Of course, you were being cornered by another alpha. You don’t doubt Soap could have easily won that fight if he had to, but an alpha had the natural advantage in a fight against other alphas. If it had been a beta cornering you, would he have still come to your aid? Or would he have watched and let Soap handle it? 

You're drawn from your thoughts as Soap’s phone rings, and he dismisses himself from the table to answer it. You wonder who it might be. Family maybe? Price? You wish you had someone that would call you regularly. You will, once they start leaving you. 

You’re left alone with Ghost, your eyes trying to look anywhere but at him. He takes your tray once you’re done, going to dump it before motioning for you to follow. You’re still a bit shaken, though you’ve managed to get your trembling under control, as well as your scent. 

He leads you back towards the barracks, your pace faster to keep up with him. Your feet hurt, but you’re eager to get back to the familiar safety of the barracks. 

You stop as a whistle sounds through the air, Ghost’s steps faltering as well. 

“Gonna go spread your legs for that freak, bunny?” A voice calls out across the courtyard. “I’m sure I could offer you a better time. At least you’ll be able to see my face.” 

The smell of ozone washes over you again, burning straight to some primal part of your brain. You’re not sure if it’s the exhaustion, or the emotions still reeling from your confrontation in the mess, but you turn on your heel, stalking over to the group of soldiers. You’re trembling again, but not out of fear. The anger has gone straight to your instincts, burning hot through your veins. 

The soldiers laugh as you approach, the one that had spoken grinning vilely at you. “Gonna take me up on my offer, omega?” The sound of your title from his lips nearly makes you shudder in disgust. It’s wrong, it sounds wrong being said in such a way. “I’d love to bend you over and stare at that sweet ass all night-” 

It’s not until your hand is throbbing that you register what happened. The soldier stumbles back a step, hand moving to his face. Your hand is balled in a fist, knuckles throbbing from the punch you delivered to his face. The next few moments seem to move in slow motion, your body pushed backwards as a hulking form comes to stand in front of you. The scent of ozone is still burning hot in your nose, anger pulsing through your body. Your ears are ringing, your hands refusing to unball from the fists they’ve closed into. You’re breathing heavily, eyes training on a small speck of mud on the back of Ghost’s jacket. 

“-You even so much as look in her direction again, I’ll rip your intestines out, tie them to the back of a humvee and drag you all the way to London, understood?” The dangerous rumble is back at the edge of his voice, his own hands balled into fists. 

“Loud and clear, sir.” The soldier spits out, massaging his face from your punch. 

A rough hand closes around your arm, making you stumble as you’re half dragged towards the barracks. You’re breathing heavily, breaths coming in gasps as the flood of emotions through you grows to almost be too much. You’re led down the hall towards the rec room, Ghost pushing you inside. 

“Sit.” He snaps, pointing at the couch.

You scramble to sit where he pointed, your brain beginning to move in autopilot as you cradle your throbbing hand to your chest. It’s still curled in a fist, the adrenaline pumping through you preventing you from uncurling your fingers. You try to steady your breathing as Ghost digs around in the fridge for a moment. You flinch as the door slams closed, Ghost dropping an ice pack on the coffee table before he takes a seat next to you on the couch. 

He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him rather roughly. He forces your fingers to uncurl, his own rough fingers digging into your hand, poking and prodding. He moves your fingers, bending your wrist and moving your arm. “It’s not broken.” He says, grabbing the ice pack and slapping it across your knuckles. “Luckily.” 

You’re still trembling, your hand lifting subconsciously to hold the ice pack in place. You feel dazed, not unlike you had earlier when you’d been pulled from sleep, only this time you can feel the emotions still pulsing through you. The remnants of anger, the disgust, the fear both from attacking an alpha, and the reprimanding you’re sure you’re due for doing such a thing.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” You murmur, feeling far away, outside of your  body looking in. 

“Probably not.” Ghost says. 

You turn slightly to look at him, pupils dilated as you simultaneously appear to see him and look straight through him. “Price is gonna find out.”

Ghost nods again, the burn of ozone gone from his scent. “He’ll believe you, though. Anything you tell him, he’s going to believe you over what anyone else says.” 

You stare at him, the skull mask from earlier gone, leaving him just in his balaclava. His eyelashes are blonde, you think as you take him in, trying to ground yourself. His skin looks soft, but that could just be the omega screaming at you. You expect him to get up, to leave you alone until you find the will to move, or one of the others finds you. Yet, he stays where he is, eyes focused across the room as you sit there. 

“You’re a purebred alpha.” You say, breaking the silence with the thought that had come to mind earlier. You need to keep talking, to keep your mind steady while you relax. 

“How did you figure it out?” He asks, not denying it. 

“Your scent.” You say, recalling earlier in the mess, the way his scent had permeated your entire body. You hadn’t just sensed it, you had felt it. His emotions, his anger, the hint of desperation for the Corporal to make the smart decision and walk away. “It’s different from other alphas. Price smells good and I’d like to roll around in his scent, but yours hits some deep primal part of my brain.” You say, turning slowly to face him. “Makes sense you’d end up in a position like this. You’re supposed to be like, an apex human.” You laugh quietly. “Just a couple of purebreds. What are the odds?” 

“Very high.” He answers. 

You laugh again. “Yeah, I know. Both of my parents were purebreds, and my grandparents. Both of them came from a long line of purebreds.” Your brows pinch into a frown. “I didn’t see it in your file, though.” 

“I don’t want it to be.” He explains. 

“Makes sense.” You say. “If I’d had that choice I’d have it left out too. As soon as someone sees it, that’s how they measure your worth. It’s not about you anymore, it’s your status they want.” You lift the ice, moving your fingers. Your hand is sore, your knuckles starting to swell a bit. 

“It’ll bruise.” He says, staring down at your hand. 

“‘Spose it could have been worse.” You say, grimacing at the ache pulsing all the way to your shoulder.

“Yeah,” He scoffs. “You could have broken your arm with a punch like that.” 

“‘S not my fault the CIA didn’t teach me much.” You murmur. “They mostly made me run.” You remember the hours and hours you spend running circles around the gym. So many circles, over and over again. 

Get involved in their hobbies. Your brain flicks through that section of the book, an idea beginning to form in your head. You’d considered it a few days ago, when you first read that chapter. Ghost speaks in violence and warfare, fighting and defending. How do you bond with the apex of humankind? 

“Teach me to fight.” 

His eyes shift slowly until he’s looking at you. You wish you could see the rest of his face, read his expression. His eyes don't give you much to go off of, something he'd likely perfected over the years. 

“Or, at least defend myself.” You continue, fighting the urge to shrink back under his gaze. “I know, Price already told me to run first, but what if that's not an option? Am I gonna throw a shitty punch and hope it works? Aim between the legs and hope I'm faster than they can block? I promise I won't go around trying to fight asshole alphas.”

He continues to stare at you, his eyes locked on yours. Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach twisting nervously but there's no challenge in his gaze, not even a playful one like you'd initiated with Price. He's simply staring. 

You wonder what he's looking for, what he's thinking. Will he laugh at you for asking? Tell you to ask someone else? Get Price to do it since he’s actually your alpha? 

“Fine.” He grunts, breaking eye contact first as he pushes himself to stand. “We start Monday. Early.” 

A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him leave the rec room. You may have just found your way into Ghost’s heart, or at least a way to get him to tolerate your presence. 

Monday. Early. 

You’ll be ready. 

Taglist Part 1:

@bobaprint, @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10

[thewildsophia]

WordGirl//Dr. Two Brains x Reader

A/N: Back on my bullshit again lmaoo. Idk why but my sister reminded me of how 6-year-old me was in love with Two Brains back in like 2010. Anyway, I'm very disappointed by the shattering lack of fanfics for this guy. So, like always, I made my own headcanons for him. I actually do have a full fanfic drafted out for him, but I'm not sure when it will be finished.

A/N pt 2: LMAO I FORGOT TO TAG THIS PERSON. So I got the idea from an ask on @cheese-induced-madness ‘s page about an affectionate reader and wanted to do my own version of it.

A/N pt 3: so apparently it wasn’t cheese induced madness who posted the prompt I was referencing??? I had to search for it again but it was actually by @dearest-painter. Sorry!

Words: 1489

"Read More Link" placed due to length

Dr. Two Brains x Affectionate!Reader

I imagine it’s in Reader's nature to be both physically and verbally kind, but with Dr. Two Brains their affection is multiplied by like 100 lmao.

And Dr. Two Brains LOVES it omg.

Two Brains is also affectionate in nature but doesn’t show it often until you and him become official. I mean, he loves his henchmen but he doesn’t always treat them the best :/

You and him are probably both touch-starved sorry I don’t make the rules. But that’s okay because you have each other.

You would often try to be in physical contact with him as much as possible: brushing shoulders, holding hands, bonking heads, anything really that allows you to touch him. It’s your own brand of affection and he doesn’t mind the unconventional choice of touch.

I feel like he’s also weird with the way he chooses to show physical affection. Like yes, he enjoys hugs and holding hands, but he also gives little love bites while kissing you or he straight up just walks up to you and bites your shoulder. He’s very careful with his teeth tho.

You often try to keep him calm while he’s working on things. Squeaky doesn’t let him rest much, so Two Brains gets antsy when he’s not being productive.

He may have been working on something for hours on end without taking any breaks, so you’ll walk up behind him, rest your chin on his shoulder, and lace your fingers with his, stopping his motions. He’d ask you what’s wrong before you’d hug him, wrapping his own arms around his waist and kissing his cheek. 

He’d giggle at the ticklish sensation of your lips on his skin and shake from being embraced so tightly. You’d whisper sweet nothings into his ear before letting go of him and allowing him to turn around and face you. 

If you told him to take a break, he’d do it in a heartbeat for you. 

You’d cook sometimes for him, and other times he’d cook for you. Most dishes have cheese in them, but occasionally he’s able to eat something small without cheese and squeaky not getting upset at it. 

I could see you two carrying each other around the secret hideout at random times. Like you could be doing your work or cooking and he’s on your back. Or Two Brains may be working on some invention and you’re on his back, arms wrapped around his neck and legs hugging his waist. 

You can’t tell me he doesn’t have the strength to do so. And since I’m tall and strong you’re also strong. Sorry, I make the rules now lmao. 

You also like to carry him with him facing you and peppering kisses across his face and neck, leaving him a flustered and stuttering mess in your arms. 

Sleeping with this man (not like that (¬_¬") ) is so random and never consistent. He sleeps at random times, sometimes late at night, other times in the middle of the afternoon. 

The only consistent thing is how he chooses to sleep with you.

He often begs you to go to sleep with him even if you just woke up. He says that you calm him enough to actually fall asleep and that you keep squeaky at bay. 

If you just woke up you’ll lay with him until he falls asleep and then go back to whatever you do. If you were just about to go to bed then there’s no problem!

I will say that this man is ALWAYS all over you. He often likes to lay on you lmao. Even if he didn’t start off laying on you - like if you two were originally just next to each other - you’ll wake up in the morning barely being able to breathe because this man is laying on you like you’re the fucking mattress. 

Two Brains will apologize with this small voice and it’s hard to stay man at him. 

He also likes to snuggle into you. Two Brains likes to lay his head under your chin and face in your neck where he’ll kiss you while his arms wrap around your waist with legs tangled. 

He likes it when you gently comb your fingers through his hair, being careful of the mouse brains, and whisper quiet words of affirmation to him. He falls asleep FAST. 

Little. Spoon. Fr.

This man just LOVES to be held and you hold him so gently okay??? 🥺

He feels secure in your arms. You hold him firmly yet carefully and he’s never felt so loved than in those quiet moments. 

Two Brains probably gets a little jealous when you also dote on his henchmen. He knows that it’s just your nature to be kind and physically affectionate, so he doesn’t actually get mad when he catches you squeezing their shoulders or hugging the two together. 

He’s just a little jealous that it isn’t him you’re holding (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

He gets over it fast when you run up to his and rest your head on his shoulder. Or better yet you, literally, sweep him off his feet and deposit the both of you somewhere else.

When it comes to dealing with the mouse brain, your verbal affection shines. 

There are some days when Two Brains and his mouse brain disagree with each other, the mouse brain usually berating Two Brains. You’re there to comfort him and get the mouse brain back in line.

Because of that, the mouse brain doesn’t particularly like you. It thinks you're nothing more than an obstacle in the way of acquiring more cheese. When Squeaky took control he forced Two Brains to push you as far away as possible. It hurt, but you knew those weren’t the actions of Two Brains himself.

When Two Brains was allowed to be himself again this man was crying, BEGGING for your forgiveness and him affirming how much he loved you and didn’t want you to leave him.

You told him you were never mad at him and THREW himself at you. Bro had you pinned down on the ground just by laying on you and crying into your chest. He didn’t move for a few hours lmao.

Two Brains gets flustered a lot. He’s not used to much verbal affection considering he’s a villain and all. Even when he was just Steven no one really paid mind to him in that way.

So whenever you say something simple like, “You look handsome today, as you do every day.” or “You’re so pretty <3” he absolutely loses his mind. This man is blushing and stuttering like a little schoolboy omggg.

He also just really appreciates hearing you say kind things about him; Two Brains doesn’t have the best self-esteem. He’s more than confident in his intelligence, but not so much in the physical department.

He knows that he looks…odd. Not many people found him attractive when he was Steven, and even less now as Dr. Two Brains. So hearing you say he’s pretty and that you love him makes his day every time.

But he doesn’t just receive compliments from you; He makes sure to voice just how much he loves you the same way you do. 

He says casual things like, “You’re so sweet.” or “Oh, look how pretty my S/O is.” It’s so cute really, he can’t help but blush whenever he’s trying to compliment you. You just make him so nervous sometimes because you’re so beautiful/handsome (whatever you prefer) to him.

In more intimate movements like when you two are cuddling or just enjoying each other’s presence in the few fleeting free moments, Two Brains is much more confident in what he says. He’s not as much of a blushing mess as when you two are around his henchmen or Wordgirl. He’ll whisper how much he loves and adores you, pressing gentle kisses to your skin in between breathless praises.

However, if you say even the simplest of compliments to him in these moments, all of his previous confidence leaves his body and he’s back to the muttering, stumbling mess he usually is. 

Call him pretty, call him smart, call him kind he absolutely loves every word you say about him. Just be careful with how much you say in one sitting because one complements too many and he’ll start crying from how much he loves you.

Two Brains is a sucker for praise. His henchmen often praise him for his intelligence and ingenuity with his creations, but this man will do anything for you to praise him.

Two Brains will make inventions based on your late-night ramblings or he’ll cook and clean for you; This man would pull the stars out of the night skies as a gift for you if you only said the word.

Dr. Two Brains is completely and totally infatuated with you and he’s so lucky that he’s found someone who is equally infatuated with him.

[dearest-painter]

hey could you do headcanons for dr two brains and a touchy/clingy female reader?? (if not please dont respond this is embarrassing to ask idknwhy😭😭)

Nah it’s good! Sorry for the long wait!

- Absolutely loves it, I feel like he himself is super clingy

- He will make sure you aren’t touching him while he and Word girl are fighting because he doesn’t wanna get you hurt :(

- He will let you hug him

- You Can’t tell me he doesn’t have the body strength to carry you around as you hug him

- When It’s that time of the month he definitely will put everything aside and make sure you are alright as he holds you

- He mostly likes holding your hands as he likes how they feel

[13atoms]

Handsome and a Genius (Spencer Reid x F!Bau!Reader)

Inspired by that one scene in x files where mulder stands like a himbo looking handsome and being the future of beauty. you know the one I mean

Summary: Spencer’s overactive brain draws more attention than it ought to on a case, and you see him in a new light. 3k words.

Contains: hostile witnesses, spencer being clueless (but an absolute babe), friends to lovers. (No offence to Florida im sure it’s very nice, reader is having a bad day, and I am far too British for that kind of heat)

The sticky Florida air had long since plastered your clothes to your skin, leaving you short of breath and with the unpleasant feeling of damp hair against your scalp. The whole team had groaned at the revelation their next case would be in the outskirts of Miami, and as soon as the plane door opened you understood why.

You were hot, and grumpy. The salty, swampy air made you feel disgusting as you approached witness after witness. There was a serial killer operating in and around mobile home parks in the area, with the two most recent murders taking place in Royal Biscayne Trailer Park, both over a week ago. While the rest the team spread out across the other crime scenes, you and your partner had been dispatched to this one.

It was a world away from Quantico: sun-bleached, dense, full of plastic and palms instead of concrete and maples. Nonetheless, the principles remained the same no matter where you were. Take everything in, speak to everyone, suspect everyone. Stepping in and out of trailers gave you very little relief from the heat, although respite from the sun pounding down on you was a welcome break.

Dr Spencer Reid stood a short distance away, shielding his eyes with his hand as he contemplated the sea of trailers around him. He’d stared around as you drove into the park, something faraway in his eyes as he memorised every detail from the safety of the SUV.

Now he stood close to you, heads inches apart as he whispered so that only you could hear. He faced one way, you the other, and you could focus on his words knowing that Spencer was watching your back.

“These things all come equipped with the same locks, at least each model does. If you recognise the trailer home, you know how to pick it. It’s fairly trivial, for someone with some basic industry knowledge.”

You hummed through pursed lips, surveying the small crowd who had gathered to gawk at a pair of FBI officers on their turf.

“And that would be true of all of the trailer parks… we know he’s got a common MO.”

“Exactly.”

“You reckon someone in the industry, then? A salesman? Maintenance guy?”

Spencer rolled his neck, stared up at the sky for a moment. His curls were long at the moment, damp at the name of his neck, a little frizzy in the humidity.

“Not necessarily.”

“It’s quite specific,” you agreed, “anyone operating as a common thief around here would have the knowledge too. We could be talking about a classic escalation – burglar to home invader to murderer?”

His eyes snapped from you to his phone.

“I’ve asked Garcia to check out any patterns in robberies, home invasions… the locks are hardly scratched. We know he wears gloves, cleans his tools. This guy knows what he’s doing.”

You nodded, surveying the street again. The sun was glinting off of white plastic, making you squint. You worried for Spencer, the heat and the light wouldn’t be doing his headaches any good.

“You want me to take that?” Spencer was saying, and you snapped your attention in the direction he was gestured.

There was middle-aged man a little way forward of the crowd, shoulders hunched, hands entwined. Nervous. He had the tan of someone who lived here year-round, not a big believer in suncream, with tanlines when he removed his hat and glasses to speak to you.

“I’ve got it,” you murmured, and Spencer nodded.

It was an unspoken part of your partnership, that Spencer liked when you started conversations with witnesses. You liked that he trusted you, trusted your skills, never questioned whether you’d done the right thing when you spoke to people.

Instead he remained a short distance away, climbing up the front steps of someone’s home for a higher vantage point to survey the place.

“Hello, sir. Can I help you?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. You said you’re with the FBI?”

The man had a tip, and it was an interesting one. A rumour spread throughout the HOA about someone trying the locks at night, the sound of metal against the doorways, silhouettes against frosted glass. A few people even had security camera footage, though nothing identifiable. It was great. You gave him your card, told him to get the footage to you asap.

It must be terrifying, you realised, to hear that kind of noise in the night. To be so close to danger, after a neighbour had been killed. The local sheriff’s department seemed frustrated by the interest the case was garnering – frankly you were amazed the story wasn’t bigger. There was no small amount of comforting involved in the conversation you had with the witness, and soon enough a few more people stepped forwards from the crowd. All seemed middle-aged, likely transplants to the sunshine state, and equally shaken.

When everyone’s stories had finished, they stood in silence for a moment. You frowned, noticing their gazes slightly misaligned.

Spencer.

He was stood at your shoulder, sharp gaze flickering across each face of the gathered residents.

“This is my colleague, Dr Reid. A few of you have already met, I believe.”

“You know,” he began, “the socio-economic factors influencing the way we think about crime in mobile home communities are fascinating. Often trailer parks are stereotyped negatively in the media, and because they are generally cheaper to live in than traditional housing estates, and that can foster a sense of shame or isolation for residents. Transient populations can also make community policing and security difficult, and anomalies in the patterns of everyday life become more difficult for people to subconsciously spot.”

You held your breath, and tried not to look worried at the reaction of the small crowd. Instead, you focused on Spencer. He was speaking with his hands a lot today.

“But I think the assumptions we tend to make about trailer parks completely overlook the very nature of living so close to your neighbours. There is a sense of community in living so closely, as evidenced by the conversations we’ve been having today. I’m not sure whether the killer understands that, or is exploiting the former theory that places like this allow for more deviations from the way we implement traditional security in communities. An unsub might hold some sort of resentment towards trailer parks, or some specific resident in his past, or perhaps he’s simply exploiting how incredibly easy it is to simply walk up to a mobile home and slip the lock open with a humble mass-produced lock pick.”

He was greeted with a sea of blank faces, littered with the occasional frown. Finally he looked to you. You caught the furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders hunched into himself, the clutching of his elbows to his body.

Oh, Spencer.

“That’s really interesting!” you tried to say, but Spencer was already backing away.

“Anyway, I’ll, um, leave you to it.”

“Thank you, Dr Reid,” you called after him, as he fled, disappearing into the shade of a nearby trailer.

 Your heart ached for him a bit, but you pushed that aside. Instead, you had a sea of potentially offended retirees to keep on side.

“God, what I’d give for a brain like that,” your witness laughed, his linen shirt straining under the movement.

You couldn’t help smiling, a little relieved the tension had broken.

“It’s not often someone has a face like that and a good head on their shoulders,” one of the older ladies piped up.

You found yourself looking over your shoulder at Spencer, his profile sharp as he looked down the road, deep in thought.

“He’s certainly a rare breed,” you agreed fondly.

A number of the crowd were following your gaze, and someone in you wanted to snap them out of it. Stop them from staring.

“He actually has an eidetic memory. Once he’s seen or heard something, he remembers it perfectly, forever. It’s incredible.”

“Oh, my goodness! I can hardly remember my own email password!”

“I wouldn’t mind if he hung around me and talked like that all day, even if I didn’t understand a word of it. Though perhaps he could use a haircut…”

There was a chorus of agreement and various coo-ing which seemed to occupy the entire scale from grandmotherly to entirely inappropriate. You couldn’t help staring at Spencer a moment longer, wondering if he was truly oblivious, or simply pretending to be.

A rare breed.

You were certain you’d never met anyone else like him. Certain you felt like a better version of yourself in his company. That you’d trust him with your life, that you searched every room you entered until you saw him. Watched the elevator doors each time they opened, all morning, until Spencer walked in.

You were certain you’d felt giddy the first time Spencer insisted the two of you would work together, alone.

 “Imagine knowing that he’d remember everything, forever…” one of the women was saying, her eyebrows raised in a way you didn’t particularly enjoy.

You cleared your throat, and hooked one hand over the badge at your waist.

“Unless anyone has any further leads, we’d better be on our way…”

The group silenced, and watched you dutifully. You passed out a few more cards, reiterated how dedicated the team was to stopping this killer, and gave out a few promises that there would be a police presence after dark throughout the trailer park.

When the request for any further questions was met with more glances towards Spencer, you thanked your witness, and made a beeline for the car. After only a few seconds Spencer was beside you, jogging to catch up.

“All done?” he asked, and you smiled at the question.

“I think so.”

You started the engine and both waited with the doors open for the car to cool down. The department’s penchant for black SUVs was not helpful when the sun was so vicious. Feeling the heat themselves, the group of residents had dispersed into a few groups, wandering into one another’s homes to continue gossiping.

“God, I’m disgusting,” you lamented, “sorry for the sweat-smell. I might actually take a cold shower when we get to the hotel.”

Spencer was already waving you off, leaning into the car to mess with the AC. Through the open door you saw him groan at the heat, swiping a curl from his face.

“I’m afraid to raise my arms. It’s so humid, I’m not sure why anyone would retire here. High humidity aggravates a number of chronic conditions, especially respiratory ones, which are common in older people. Not to mention the skin cancer…”

“And it ruins your hair,” you teased.

Spencer faked a gasp, and reached for a damp, limp section of his hair.

“I mean, look at it!”

You laughed, and rolled your eyes at him, nothing but fondness settling warm and tight in your chest.

Surveying the road in front of you for one final time you saw a few curtain-twitchers, but no new faces. You climbed into the car, wincing at the heat. The seatbelt buckle was burning hot, and you swore as it burned your fingers.

“I always forget about that,” you grumbled, slamming the car door closed.

“You know, if you fasten your seatbelt after you get out, it stops the metal getting hot and burning you,” Reid offered, and you rolled your eyes at him again.

“Gosh, doesn’t it get exhausting being right about everything?”

Spencer went quiet, and all you heard was the click of his own belt. After a few moments the car was cool and bearable, and your lungs felt like they could finally move again. The sat-nav happily talked away, and you started stealing worried looks at your partner once you’d returned to properly-maintained roads.

“What you said out there was really good, do you mind if we go over it again once we get to the station? I think it’s worth exploring.”

“I shouldn’t have said it in front of them.”

He was right, but you didn’t have to heart to say anything. That was the thing which made your heart twinge about Spencer – he was so insecure, and yet so self-aware, it was the worst of both worlds. Being an expert in body language was a double-edged sword.

“I don’t think they minded. Did you hear those old ladies talking about your big brain?”

Spencer didn’t laugh. He turned himself towards the window, curled up with his hand beneath his jaw.

“They were very impressed. So was I, for what it’s worth. I think we’ll make some really good progress on this profile tonight.”

He hummed agreement. Watched a vista of blurred blue and green and white going past the window. The radio was turned down to a low hum, you could hardly hear it. Silence pierced its way through and sound of mumbled songs and road noise.

“Are you okay?” you asked finally.

“I’m okay.”

You sighed. Tapped the steering wheel. Sped a little to get through an intersection on amber.

 “Spencer…”

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to ruin that for you I just… sometimes I think of things and it’s like I have to tell you.

“Spencer I’m not mad at you! Not at all! I think we’re both just tired, and too warm…”

He didn’t say anything.

“Honestly, I was worried you’d heard what those ladies were saying about you and gotten upset. It was inappropriate of them…”

“I didn’t hear anything. What did they say?”

Your gaze was focused on the road, but you met Spencer’s eye in the rear-view mirror as he watched your face.

“Just that you were a handsome young man. And that they wanted you to get a haircut, which I firmly disagree with…” you teased.

Spencer touched his hair self-consciously. He was still quite curled up, leaning away from you despite his interest in the conversation.

“That’s nice of them, I suppose.”

“‘Nice’ is an interesting way of putting it, but I’m glad you’re not upset about it.”

“When I was a kid, I read a book at the library about how to tell if you’re attractive. It was for women, all about makeup and stuff, but there was a section about what made guys hot. I could never figure it out, I just always thought I looked like an alien.”

The sudden change made you sit up straight, heart in your mouth as you rolled to a stop behind a queue of traffic.

“I think everyone feels like that sometimes. Being a teenager is really hard.”

 “I… yeah. I suppose so.”

“I always felt so jealous of the people who walked around looking perfect every day, confident that they were not. It just never came naturally to me.”

“Really? I assumed you were one of those girls in school who I’d be too afraid to talk to.”

You scoffed, and for a moment were struck by how little you really knew about one another. The way Spencer looked at you, looked it everyone, it felt as though he had an x-ray into every tiny detail of your life. How could he know, though?

“Of course not,” you laughed nervously.

You weren’t sure if you’d prefer Spencer knew the truth, or kept believing whatever he’d made up ini his head. You weren’t sure what any of this conversation meant. Traffic was moving. The precinct was two turns away.

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

He was teasing you. Finally he leant back in his seat, shoulders square to it, legs stretched out in the passenger footwell.

“Either way, I’m glad you can talk to me now. I’d miss it if you didn’t.”

“You might be the only person on this planet with that opinion.”

You took a moment to glance across the car at him, and caught a flash of a smile. He was joking. You released tension from your shoulders you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re a handsome genius, just like Barbara said.”

“Her name was Barbara?” Reid laughed.

You shrugged, and took the final turn into the precinct parking lot.

“I’ve got no idea.”

Even with the SUV in park, the aircon no longer blasting away, neither of you moved. Not for a moment, at least. A moment of peace before the chaos all began again. Just the two of you. Wherever you were, with Spencer was your favourite place to be.

“You’re the same, you know. A genius. And handsome…”

You frowned.

“Pretty! Beautiful. You know what I mean.”

“Handsome?”

In truth, you didn’t care about the words. Not at all. Not when your heart was pounding at the realisation Spencer had his gaze fixed on your lips, his eyes soft and pupils blown wide.

“Beautiful,” Spencer repeated, “You know, in a lot of languages, handsome can be translated for men and women. The word itself doesn’t have a gender. Guapa, for example, in Spanish…”

You let him talk, on and on. You decided you wouldn’t kiss him yet, while your hair was matted in sweat and Spencer’s face was brushed with sunburn and embarrassment.

“Bella is more popular in South America, though, or bonita. My favourite is Japanese, though. Kirei. To be beautiful both inside and out…”

Only a few more moments passed before Morgan arrived and banged on the glass with a wide grin and a sweat-beaded brow, announcing a break in the case. You were sorry for the interruption.

[slightlypossessed]

Synopsis — Spencer's favourite meal (aka dr reid eats pussy)

Who? — Dr. Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

18+ content — MDNI

small drabble post bcs pussy drunk Spencer is on the brain <3

"Spencer," you whine, "no more, please,"

"C'mon, baby," his voice is desperate and pained, as if he's the one who's been mercilessly toyed with this past hour or so. "One for more for me, sweetheart," he licks a long strip along your cunt, "one more."

But it was one more an orgasm ago. In fact, it was one more three, four, five orgasms ago.

Distantly, somewhere in the back of your frazzled and half-mush brain, you wonder if his jaw is sore – if he's really enjoying it as much as his humping and moaning seem to be giving away. Does he really get this much pleasure out of something as simple as eating you out?

But it's not that simple, no– not to Spencer.

For Spencer, it's the concept of your pleasure, the show you unawaredly put on: the hitches in your breath each time he puts his tongue on your clit again, the low moan when he sucks, the breathy please as you beg him to go faster. The way your hips circle and stutter beneath the hold his arms have on them, it's the way you sigh his name – low and dreamy as your back arches of the sheets when he makes you cum.

Spencer enjoys it all – craves it all, always. He's barely even lucid at this point. Your slick a most sweet elixir, throwing him deeper and deeper into a lust-filled haze till he's mindlessly rutting into the mattress and moaning into your core.

He wants to taste you again, taste your sweet liquor as you cum for him, again.

How can he not when your so pretty like this? taste as addictive as you do? make him feel half-insane as you moan out his name and grind your hips down onto his tongue – greedily asking for more, always wanting more, just as he so desperately does. You're the same as him, you want more, more, more – and he'll always so oh, so eagerly provide.

Your thighs are wet and sticky and Spencer seems to revel gleefully in the fact – he's made them like this, he's why your cunt is wet with slick, why your face is covered in tears and few smudges of mascara.

Spencer's mouth is hot on your pussy as he continues his work. He plunges two long and slender fingers inside of your, hooking them up as he moves them in-and-out, all the while sucking on your swollen clit.

"fuck," your back bows off the mattress. You're already so close – was close the moment he put his tongue on you again not even a second after your last orgasm.

"Spencer, please–" you don't know what you plea for – don't know if it's for mercy or for damnation. You're not sure if you should pull his head closer by the hand in his hair, or move away to stave off your orgasm. You're not sure you can handle more, even if you want it, you can't guarantee that another orgasm won't break you. But it doesn't matter, Spencer's movements are relentless, and either way he'll get you there – he needs to make you cum. Your hand in his hair remains neutral.

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you can already feel the familiar sweet, honeyed sensation fill you up. Warmth moving through your nerves and seeping deep into your bones. Your eyes are already closed, eyes sightlessly moving around beneath your lids as if caught in a restless dream — and you almost feel like you are in one: some feverish, psychosomatic sex dream.

Spencer efforts double, almost like he can notice the proximity of your orgasm, telepathically able to predict when the sensation is about to flood you even before you've been made aware yourself. His hips grind down harder against the mattress as he, seemingly unaware, tries to make himself cum to the sweet sounds of your pleasure.

His fingers move deeper, motions precise. The pads of his fingers nudge that soft spot deep in your cervix, and your legs are clamping closed, only held open by his bobbing head.

"Spencer!" you moan, "too much, fuck– please, honey, please," soft words bubble from your lips, your brain too pleasure-frazzled to form any other, more coherent requests.

Spencer's fingers continue their movements, his tongue moves up and down your cunt, before he rips out his fingers to stuff his face right in the centre of you to get a good taste, his nose brushing against your clit as he does so. You reward him with a cry, and he gifts you back his own moans. His sounds pressed deep into your cunt, making vibrations reverberate from your core to your chest, wrecking your body tremors as they flow through you.

He sucks and sucks, drinking your juices like a man depraved and dying of thirst. Spencer's always been an eager lover.

The coil begs to snap, stretched far too taught. His tongue plunges deep inside you, tasting along the spongy walls of your cunt.

All it takes is one simple movement from Spencer. His thumb circles your clit once, twice, his nose nudges your clit closer to his thumb – and you're screaming.

"Spencer!" you cry out as your back arches off the mattress completely. Your hips still held down by Spencer's strong arms intertwined around them, holding you hostage to his pleasure.

Moan after moan releases from your throat, mindlessly spoken words mixing in the middle: some please, some Spencers, a few cuss words in the bundle.

Despite the intensity you feel, the electricity that increases second by second, your hips act on a mind of their own. As every alarm in your friend brain goes off, telling you to stop the stimulation before you go insane, your hips yet continue to move, jerky circles following Spencer's still ongoing torment.

And Spencer's doesn't deprive you of any pleasure – his tongue still rapidly laps at your juices. The movements of his thumb on your clit are gentle, however. Slow, deliberate and soft circles.

Spencer doesn't fully slow down though, and before you can consider pulling him away with your weakened grip on his hair, Spencer's movements stutter. His body wracks with tremors, the movements of his mouth on you spasmodic. His hips thrash against the sheets. Spencer's movements are sporadic and shaky as his own cum erupts through his aching, hard cock.

Spencer's eyes roll far back into his skull, and you lean your head down to watch as his back bows while he whimpers and mewls against your pussy as he ruins the fabric of his boxers.

His hips continue to jerk, and he lays some soft, open-mouthed kisses on you as he rides out the high of a most divine feeling.

When his hips still, and sounds come back into focus, Spencer's hands loosen on you as he begins his ascent up your body, too eager to share the sweet taste of you on your tongue.

"mhmm," he hums against your pubic mound, laying a wet kiss as his handa move up to caress your body.

"you made me cum, pretty girl," he whispers against your stomach, you feel the curve of his lips around every word. "fuck, your sweet cunt and pretty sounds made me cum," another kiss laid higher up, "made me feel so good,"

You hum back in reply, unable to fully form a sentence yet.

"Didn't even need to try," he murmurs, and it's true. Spencer can cum from just looking at you, from your soft sounds and breathy whimpers. It's happened before, and it almost happened tonight when you moaned out his name all dreamy and dainty as he made you cum that first time.

"You sounded so pretty, too," his words carry on as his kisses move higher. He lays a wet kiss on your sternum, quickly darting out his tongue to lick a drop of sweat of your skin.

His big hands move all over you, from your hip to around your waist, then up to caress your chest, thumbs running over your nipples, before Spencer decides to taste them instead.

His hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as he settles himself between your legs.

His takes one breast into his mouth, sucking at the plump skin, head bobbing as he kisses and licks at your chest. His tongue swipes over your nipple, once, twice, three, five times till your hoarse voice whimpers out your pleasure – much to his satisfaction. He moves to repeat the same movements on the other breast.

Once he's satisfied, he releases you with a pop, the sound obscene and loud, contrasting your soft pants.

"Did you feel good, baby?" he speaks the words now against the side of your neck. You nod in response, your jaw softly meeting the side of his face as you do. Spencer chuckles at the contact, and moves out of the cervix of your neck to properly look at you instead.

His brown eyes meet yours. This close, you can make each individual flick of gold in his eyes, each green strand the decorates the brown.

"Tell me," he requests, soft and gentle. He kisses you tenderly on the lips. "tell me how good it felt,"

"So good, Spence," you reply, voice rough with use, whilst you wrap your hands around his neck, one burrowing into his soft curls. His eyes flutter as your nails lightly scrape his skull, and he feels a low buzz at the contact.

"Good," he kisses you again, satiated and satisfied with your answer.

It seems to you like Spencer's gotten his fill, for now. He's only made you cum, what? 5 or 6 times?

He kisses you softly, and you hope that Spencer's settling to rest with you.

He kisses you slow and soft, humming gently against your lips. He lays one kiss on your temple, another on your forehead, and one on each of your closed eyelids as you begin to settle and relax against the pillows, your brain wandering off as you lose time between each kiss and the next; your brain dozes off for half-seconds as the atmosphere quiets.

so calm....so quiet

Your grip on Spencer loosens, the entrancing, post-euphoria haze thickens and stretches time as sounds around you mute and an exhausted smile settles across your face as you give into that weightless feeling and finally rest.

—

Spencer's hands wander downwards, yet again, his fingers settling on your clit as he aligs his once more hard cock with your entrance.

Liked reading this? >> Give this a go

A/N — some late night Spencer thoughts. Been wanting to right for dr. pretty boy for a while now.

+ experimenting with shorter fics now, hopefully I'll write more like this? also it's not properly edited if u can't tell ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙

Feedback is always wanted & appreciated!

Requests are open!!

[sneedlier]

Maybe you can write a hurt/comfort? Like TB recalling his old life while Reader helps him out? Sorry I’m not too good with describing things.

(AN: I'VE ALWAYS WANTED AN EXCUSE TO WRITE SOMETHING LIKE THIS EEEEE!!!

Written in a second person POV so I can avoid using Y/N too much, also this can be interpreted as either a platonic or romantic relationship between TB and reader :))

---

You walked towards Dr Two-Brains' lab, you wanted to check on him as you haven't seen him all evening. As you approached the door, you heard...crying?It was slightly muffled due to the walls but you could hear it.You began to feel anxious and concerned.You knocked on the door. Dr Two-Brains didn't respond. You sighed. You began to slowly open the door, as you did the crying got slightly louder. The noise of sniffles and sobs could now be heard.You peered your head through the door.

"Dr Two-Brains..?" You say softly. No answer again, only soft sobs and sniffles.

You turn your head in the direction on where the sobs and sniffles were coming from. You find a Dr Two-Brains, who was sobbing on the ground, his back pressed into a corner whilst he curled in a ball, his head hiding in his knees yet you could still clearly hear the sobs that were coming out of him. You look beside him and see a picture frame on the ground, the glass smashed as if it was thrown on the ground. From what you could make out, it was a picture of Dr Two-Brains in the past...back when he was Steven. Dr Steven Boxlietner...but the face was scribbled out frantically with a pencil. It clearly didn't work that well as you could still make out the face. Your face began to contour into look of concern and worry for the mad scientist.You began to walk towards Dr Two-Brains, standing beside him.

"Doc?Are you okay?" You ask softly and reassuringly, you crouched down beside Dr Two-Brains.

Dr Two-Brains looked up at you reluctantly as his sobs began to die down, you could see his mouse-like eyes we're more red than usual and were puffy from all the crying. He let out a few choked sobs. He looked down at the ground.

"I'm...I'm..so sorry...I..didn't want this to happen...I don't...remember..I'm..." Dr Two-Brains paused for a moment. He lifted his hands up slightly,ever so slightly closer to his face. He looked like he was thinking deeply about what he was going to say and do. His sobs began to get louder again.

"I..I don't know who I am." He said in a quiet, croaked voice.

Dr Two Brainz suddenly began to break out in sobs again, his hands covering his eyes. Your eyes go wide with worry. With not many options on what to do, you shuffled closer to Dr Two-Brains. You then wrapped your arms around him comfortingly.

As soon as your arms wrapped around Dr Two-Brains, his sobs died down ever so slightly. He removed his hands from his eyes. He sniffles and wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. He began to cry softly on your shoulder and he tightened his grip ever so slightly as he nuzzled his face into your shoulder, searching and looking for comfort and reassurance. You felt Dr Two-Brains squirm and wriggle in your arms whilst he looked for comfort. Once he was comfortable and stopped squirming, you leaned your head against his. You began to stroke his back, letting him sob into your shoulder whilst you gave him the comfort and reassurance he needed.

(AN: OMG I FINISHED THIS IN LIKE, AN HOUR OR LESS??OMG

Sorry if it's corny and a lil short and if Dr Two-Brains is acting outta character, it's 4am where I live and I haven't gotten any sleep so I'm pretty eepy but I really REALLY wanted to write this. But either way, I hope you enjoyed reading!!Requests are still open so feel free to send more Dr Two-Brains x reader requests if you want!! :3)