#a space to just talk about everything for as long as she wants

[verstappen-cult]

Maybe a lestappen fic were Reader friends are the worst and they comfort her, thank you 💗

You were out with your boyfriends when you saw them across the street, walking out of a shop, talking and laughing without a care. You had texted them yesterday to ask if they were free today to hang out, since you haven’t seen them in a few weeks. The answer? I have to work. I’ll be out of town. I’m sick, just numerous excuses.

Max noticed the change in your demeanor in an instant. “What’s wrong, love?” 

“Oh, I just remember that I need to call mom, or she’ll get mad.” You smile, not wanting to worry him. 

“You can call her once we get home.” He kisses your forehead and holds your hand to keep walking. 

Being around them was enough to make you forget about what you saw and you actually ended up enjoying the day off. 

Until Charles decided that it was time to eat and walked into one of your favorite restaurants in town. A very exclusive but cozy one.

The host just gave your boyfriends a look and it was enough for her to rush to get you three a table. 

“Aren’t those your friends?” Charles asks you, looking behind your shoulders. 

You didn’t want to look but you also didn’t want them to know what happened. So, you simply turned around with a forced smile. 

“Oh, yes! What a coincidence.” 

“You can say hello to them,” Max gives you a little pat on your lower back, encouraging you to go to them. “We will wait for you.” 

You chew on the inside of your cheek before walking towards them. 

You notice the exact moment they see you, because they go from laughing to a complete silence. 

“Hey!” You try not to show how affected you are, how much you want to cry. “I thought you were busy today.” 

One of your friends gives you a once over before leaning closer to one of your other friends and whispering something before laughing.

They don’t even try to pretend. 

“Yeah. This was something last minute.” One girl says, taking a sip of her drink. “We forgot to tell you.” 

“Are you following us?” One of your male friends says, not hiding his smirk at all.

“Oh, no, I’m—” 

“Because that’s sad.” 

One of your friends, one you thought was someone you could trust, bursts out laughing before saying, “Even for you.”

You’re one second away from crying now, so you decide to excuse yourself and walk away, not hungry anymore and just wanting to go home. But Max and Charles are by your side in one second and you’re unable to do so. 

“Max, Charles!” 

Everyone’s expression changes just like it changed when you approached their table. The difference is that this time they’re all smiling, sparkling eyes looking up at them as if you are not even there, standing between them. As if you are invisible.

“Are you waiting for a table?”

“You can sit with us. We can make space for you!” 

It’s laughable, really. 

Charles looks at you, his hand on your waist. “You want to sit here, chéri?”

You avoid looking at your “friends” and Max notices immediately. 

“We just came for take out,” Max explains, a friendly smile on his lips. “she just wanted her favorite dessert and we can’t say no to her.”

Everyone on the table laughs. But it’s forced, anyone would notice. 

“Well, we should plan something, then.” A blonde girl you have never seen before says. She’s twirling her hair and everything, and you would feel disgusted if it weren’t for the situation you’re currently in. 

Max holds your hand, rubbing circles on your palm. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

Silence. 

A beat. 

And then.

“Some friends you are.”

You are out of the restaurant in ten minutes. Charles carries some take out while Max doesn’t let your hand go, at least not until you’re in front of the car. 

“Are you okay?” Max cups your cheeks, and you finally let the tears fall. 

“We noticed things were weird when you stood in front of their table.” Your Monégasque boyfriend says, his free hand rubbing your back. “We just didn’t realize how bad it was until we heard them.”

“How long has this been happening?”

You sniff, feeling the pad of Max’s fingers wiping the tears off your face. 

“Now that I’m thinking about it,” You laugh, closing your eyes, thinking about how stupid and blind you were. “it has been this way since… forever.”

“Oh, baby.” Charles wraps you in his arms, Max joining the hug without a second thought. 

“You should have told us.” Max whispers in your ear, and you nod because he is right. “We could’ve done something.”

Charles rolls his eyes, giving his boyfriend a little push. “You don't need them, okay?”

“You are an incredible,” Max kisses your cheek, “and amazing person.”

“Most beautiful girl in the world.” Charles kisses your other cheek. 

Your Dutch boyfriend gives you a little peck on the lips before pulling away to look directly into your eyes. “Anyone would be lucky to have you in their lives.”

“Their loss.” You groan against Charles’ shoulder. 

“That’s my girl!” They laugh and you feel like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

“Now,” The blonde-haired boy says, opening the car door for you. “Should we go home to eat in bed while we watch some movie?”

“Can we watch Cars?” 

“Charles, she will choose the movie!”

“But she loves Cars too!”

[1for5]

TO ALL THE GIRLS I’VE LOVED BEFORE

paige bueckers x uconn student!reader

with caitlin clark, aubrey griffin, nika muhl, and emily engstler

───────── ⋆⋅🏀⋅⋆ ─────────

PROLOGUE

Y/n’s always been into books, poems, and anything literature. As someone who is shy, the stories she read accompanied her throughout middle school and even through college.

She had a lot of books surrounding her room, and she spent her free time at the library the most. She is now currently at her house, fixing her messy room before she goes back to her college, UCONN, before the school year starts.

Another fact about Y/n is that she keeps everything. All the notes from her friends, all the receipts she’s gotten, she keeps it all in a box. To add, she also keeps her memories of her past crushes safely. Y/n has a box full of letters addressing to her past crushes. She in total has 4 letters, each letter has a different emotion and meaning to it.

The 4 letters are addressed to: (1) Aubrey Griffin. South Carolina Basketball Player. Y/n had Model UN with her in high school, but Aubrey quit to focus more on her basketball dreams. Aubrey had an aura which made Y/n attracted to her during their MUN days. Y/n and Aubrey were quite close, and became good friends when you both learned that you will be going to the same college. She had a good basketball career in UCONN, but decided to transfer to South Carolina. She is still doing great.

(2) Caitlin Clark. Iowa Basketball player. Y/n had a good time with her during their junior halloween party. They both dressed quite silly, which brought them to talk to each other. Y/n felt seen for the first time.

(3) Paige Bueckers. UCONN basketball player.. She was Y/n’s first kiss. Going back to grade 6, Y/n knew her as her (then) bestfriend’s crush, and apparently the whole population in school has been crushing too. Y/n and her (then) bestfriend were invited to their first party and when they arrived, a truth or dare has been going on. When it was Y/n’s turn, Paige’s friend dared her to kiss Paige. Y/n was hesitating, and Paige was the one to come closer to Y/n, closing the gap. Y/n’s bestfriend felt hatred, while Y/n felt something different, which she shrugged off.

And (4). Emily Engstler. WNBA Connecticut Suns player. Her first girl friend, with a space. She is her neighbor, a good basketball player, and her childhood bestfriend, however, things changed when emily started dating Y/n’s sister, Nika. It was a bit of a heartbreak for Y/n, as she liked Emily ever since childhood days, all until up to Y/n just getting over Emily for her sister.

The last fact about Y/n is that—her letters are missing. Gone and out of the box.

“Nia? NIA!” She called her little sister, and asked her if she knew anything about the papers inside of the box.

“No..” she answered. Y/n groaned out of frustration, looking everywhere for her letters. The letters she made had the dorm addresses of her past crushes.

After moments of looking, Y/n was called to dinner. She sat on the table, along with Nia, Nika, Emily, and her dad. Her mom unfortunately passed away when she was little, and they all surely miss her.

As they were eating, Nika shared that she will be moving from UCONN to Iowa. She is an amazing basketball player, along with Emily. Maybe she started your exposure to the basketball players you used to have eyes on.

Emily was surely happy for Nika, but somehow got sad with the sudden decision. Nika then called out Emily and went to the living area to talk to her.

After an hour, Y/N felt defeated, hoping that the letters will come back to you or are in a garbage bag. She got her suitcases ready for her flight back to UCONN tomorrow.

While finishing up packing, Nika knocked on Y/n’s door. “Emily didn’t take it well?” she asked Nika, who replied back with a nod. “I know long distance is hard. I had to end it too. Mom didn’t want specifically me to get a partner while in college, and I really have to focus on basketball now.” Nika gave her little sister a hug. “You what?” Y/n was confused, Nika and Emily were surely so in love with each other. Y/n comforted Nika, and they both slept after being tired the whole day.

The following day, the girls’ dad brought Nika and Y/n to the airport to get ready for a new school year. They all bid their goodbyes, and went to the different terminals as the two sisters are now in separate colleges and states.

While waiting to board, Y/n was listening to songs with her headphones. A tall blonde figure then came into her view. “Emily. Hi.” Y/n spoke. “Hi. Ready for a new year?” The basketball player asked, putting down her personal belongings.

“Yeah. Hey.. even if your trip didn’t end well, thank you for visiting. Hope you have a fun time with Connecticut Suns.” Y/n removed her headphones and had a conversation with Emily.

“Flight to Connecticut, now boarding.”

After the flight, Y/n and Emily bid their goodbyes and gave each other a “good luck.” Their friendship may have faded away due to relationships, basketball, and college, but they will always care for each other, just like when they were 5/6 years old playing with toys.

-

A week later, Y/n was running around the field for her P.E. Class, which she hated the most. As she was running, a familiar face was walking towards her.

“Hey look Y/n uhm. I just got out of a relationship, and..” the figure stated. Y/n felt confused. Why is Paige Bueckers suddenly talking again to her after years of not talking to each other?

“What? What do you mean?” Y/n stopped her tracks. “The letter was nice but, I don’t like you like that L/n.” Paige explained, showing Y/n an envelope addressed to Paige’s dorm.

It all made sense to Y/n now. She didn’t expect for her letters to actually be sent out, and it’s giving her a small panic attack. “Look, you do not get it..” Y/n began to explain, however, her voice stops when she sees another tall blonde figure walking, Emily, holding a letter that is most likely Y/n’s “love” letter to her. Did Emily drove here just to show the letter? Y/n thought.

“Holy shit” Y/n stated, and pulled Paige Bueckers into a kiss. That was Y/n’s first kiss that is not from a party game, and she did not know how to act.

Paige also did not know how to act, and just went with the flow. After about seconds seconds seconds of their small “makeout” session, Y/n pulled away.

“You run not kiss! Why is Bueckers here? And Y/n! Another lap for you.” The P.E. Teacher fumed and rolled their eyes.

“I am sorry.. and thank you!” Y/n awkwardly said and started to run her lap, which left Paige dumbfounded.

[its-avalon-08]

Hello! I loved the seb vettel breathe baby breathe fic! can u make one where seb and y/n are dating and they gte into a really wierd silent flight. they have been super distant for two months now. y/n works as a engineer in ferrari whilst seb is in redbull. they just lost the spark. seb gives one word replies and everything is wrong. one day y/n is sobbing silently in the kitchen and seb comes running. y/n and seb confront eachother. make it majot angst happy ending. thanks!

silence is the killer (sv5)

message from anon - "Hi! Sorry can u change the kitchen to balcony? I want it to overlook the sunset and stuff. sorry for the inconvenience"

The private jet hummed with an oppressive silence. Y/N stared out the window, the clouds mimicking the turmoil in her stomach. Two months. Two excruciating months of strained conversations, stolen glances that held a universe of unspoken hurt, and a gnawing sense of distance that had grown between her and Sebastian. It felt like they were on a high-speed train hurtling towards a destination neither of them wanted.

Earlier, as Sebastian zipped up his duffel bag, a question tumbled out of Y/N, a question that felt heavier than it should have been. "Going out tonight?"

"Party," he replied, his voice clipped. A pang shot through her. He hadn't bothered to invite her. It wasn't like him. They used to spend every spare moment together, decompressing after the pressure of the races, sharing stolen kisses in the motorhome, whispering dreams and secrets under starlit skies.

Their careers had always been demanding, both chasing the ultimate prize in Formula One. But this felt different. The spark seemed to have sputtered out, replaced by a cold, empty space where laughter and warmth used to reside. Every attempt at conversation was met with a one-word reply from Sebastian, punctuated by long, heavy silences that stretched on for what felt like an eternity. It felt like she was talking to a stranger wearing his familiar face, a ghost of the man she'd fallen in love with.

The silence was shattered by a ping from Y/N's phone. A message from Kimi, their teammate at Ferrari. "Big congrats on the promotion, Y/N! You deserve it!" Her heart swelled with a mixture of pride and a deep, gnawing sadness. A promotion – a culmination of years of hard work, a testament to her dedication and talent. Maybe this was a new beginning, a chance for a fresh start in her career, even if her personal life was crumbling around her like a sandcastle under the relentless tide.

Just then, Sebastian spoke, his voice laced with a hint of confusion, a stark contrast to his usual stoicism. "Promotion? How come I didn't know about this?"

Y/N's smile evaporated faster than champagne bubbles. "I told you," she mumbled, her voice barely a whisper. The words felt heavy on her tongue, a constant reminder of the conversations that never happened, the silences that spoke volumes.

Sebastian's brow furrowed. "What? When?"

"Weeks ago," she said, her voice thick with unshed tears. "When you were...busy." The last word dripped with a bittersweet irony, a painful reminder of the long nights he spent training, strategizing, anything but spending time with her.

A flicker of something – regret, maybe, or realization – crossed Sebastian's face. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He blinked rapidly, a sheen appearing in his eyes that mirrored the cityscape lights reflecting in the car windows. Y/N saw it, the vulnerability beneath his stoic facade, a vulnerability that chipped away at the wall of resentment she'd built around her heart. But a bigger part of her was numb. The silence returned, heavier than before, a suffocating blanket that wrapped itself around them, stealing the oxygen from the conversation, leaving only the raw, exposed nerve of their fading connection.

The plane touched down with a soft thud, a jarring contrast to the turmoil within. They disembarked, the familiar routine of retrieving luggage a stark contrast to the turmoil within. Now, they sat in a car, Sebastian driving, the cityscape blurring past the window. Neither of them made a move to break the silence. It was a heavy silence, pregnant with unspoken questions, hurt feelings, and the fading embers of a love that might have been saved, if only they'd spoken sooner, if only they'd fought for what they had. The question hung in the air, a silent accusation: how did we get here?

seb's pov :

Frustration gnawed at me. The silence was suffocating, a tangible entity pressing down on us. Y/N stared out the window, her face a mask of what I could only imagine was hurt. The guilt gnawed at me, a dull ache in my gut.

The truth was, I didn't know how we'd gotten here. Everything seemed to be happening at breakneck speed – championships to defend, sponsors to meet, endless travel. Somewhere along the way, the laughter had died, the late-night talks dwindled, and the space between us had grown wider.

Pulling into the usual spot, I killed the engine. "Lunch?" I asked, the question heavy on my tongue. Y/N shook her head, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

"No thanks, Seb. I have a mountain of paperwork to catch up on."

The dismissal stung. Back in the day, she'd have insisted we grab a sandwich, stolen a moment together amidst the chaos. Now, it felt like every interaction had to be negotiated.

I watched her disappear into the building, my gaze falling on Lewis strolling next to her, a playful jab at her shoulder eliciting a short laugh. It was the first real laugh I'd heard from her in weeks. A strange mix of jealousy and relief bubbled up inside me. Relief that she wasn't perpetually shrouded in sadness, but jealousy that it was someone else who'd managed to coax a smile out of her.

The rest of the week was a blur of meetings and debriefs. There were stolen glances across the paddock, a brush of fingers that sent a jolt down my spine, and the lingering scent of her perfume in the air after she'd left for the day. Every night, she leaned in, a ghost of a kiss landing on my cheek before she disappeared into her room. It felt like a plea, a silent attempt to bridge the growing chasm between us.

One evening, I found myself drawn back to our room after dinner. Y/N sat on the balcony, her phone clasped in her hands, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. My heart ached. I knew then that the distance wasn't just the result of our hectic schedules. It was something deeper, something I couldn't quite grasp.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped onto the balcony. "Hey," I croaked out, my voice thick with emotion. Y/N startled, quickly wiping away the tear.

She turned to me, a flicker of hope sparking in her eyes before fading just as quickly. "Seb," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

We stood there for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. The silence stretched on, threatening to swallow us whole. But this time, something was different. This time, I wouldn't let it. I had to know. I had to fight for what we had, even if I didn't know where to begin.

The dam broke. Y/N's shoulders started shaking, a choked sob escaping her lips. Before I could react, she spun around, burying her face in her hands. Her body wracked with silent tears, the sound echoing like a gunshot through the quiet night.

My heart shattered in my chest. I rushed to her side, panic clawing at my throat. "Baby," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. Tentatively, I reached out, my hand hovering over her shoulder.

She flinched at first, then leaned back against me, the floodgates finally opening. Tears streamed down her face, hot and silent. My own vision blurred as a wave of guilt and regret washed over me. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close, the scent of her shampoo a familiar comfort amidst the storm.

"Y/N," I choked out, my voice raw. "I'm so sorry. So incredibly sorry."

She didn't speak, just clung tighter, her sobs muffling against my chest. In that moment, the silence that had plagued us for weeks was a distant memory. The only sound that mattered was the ragged rhythm of her breathing, the steady beat of my own heart echoing the frantic rhythm of a race.

Holding her felt like holding onto the last shred of something precious. It was a desperate attempt to rewind time, to claw back the moments we'd let slip away.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her sobs subsided into hiccups. She pulled back slightly, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks. Her eyes, red-rimmed and puffy, held a vulnerability that tore at my soul.

"My heart hurts, Seb," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "It hurts so fucking much, how did we get here seb? When did everything go wrong?."

The words struck me like a physical blow. The weight of her pain was a tangible thing, pressing down on me. I cupped her face in my calloused hands, forcing myself to meet her gaze.

"Mine too," I confessed, tears tracing warm paths down my own cheeks. "More than you'll ever know. Please lets just talk about it, don't give up on us baby please don't.."

The unspoken apology hung in the air, a silent promise to mend what we'd broken. We stood there for a long time, two souls battered by the storm, seeking solace in the wreckage. The path ahead was uncertain, but in that moment, we were together. And for now, that was enough.

We clung to each other, the world fading away into a blur of moonlight and the rhythmic chirping of crickets. Slowly, Y/N disentangled herself from the embrace, wiping away a stray tear with the back of her hand.

"Talk to me, Seb," she said, her voice hoarse, but laced with a newfound determination. "What's going on?"

Shame washed over me. I hadn't realized how much I'd needed to hear those words. To finally break the silence that had choked the life out of our relationship.

"I... I don't know," I stammered, my voice thick with emotion. "The pressure, it's been building. The championship fight, the sponsors, everything just feels so overwhelming." My voice cracked, a sob escaping my lips. "I just... I shut down. Pushed everyone away, especially you."

Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. Y/N didn't flinch. Instead, she took my hand, her touch a beacon in the storm. Gently, she brushed away a tear that traced a path down my cheek.

"It's okay," she whispered, her voice surprisingly steady. "Let it out."

And I did. The words tumbled out in a torrent, a jumbled mess of anxieties and insecurities. The fear of failure, the weight of expectations, the constant feeling of being on the edge. I spoke of the loneliness that had gnawed at me despite being surrounded by people, the way I'd convinced myself pushing her away was somehow protecting her.

The entire time, Y/N sat beside me, a silent pillar of strength. She listened with a patience I didn't deserve, wiping away every tear that escaped, her touch a soothing balm on my raw emotions.

By the time I finished, I was drained, emotionally spent. I looked at her, bracing myself for the inevitable storm, for the anger and hurt I knew I deserved.

But all I saw in her eyes was understanding. A soft smile played on her lips, laced with a hint of sadness. "It's not your fault," she said, her voice gentle. "This sport, it gets inside you, twists and contorts everything until all you see is the finish line."

Relief washed over me, warm and unexpected. "You... you understand?"

She nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Of course I do. We're in this together, remember?" Her voice hitched slightly. "But you can't keep bottling things up, Seb. Talk to me. Let me in."

The words were a revelation. The realization that pushing her away had only served to push us further apart settled in my stomach like a lead weight.

"I will," I promised, my voice thick with emotion. "I'll try my best to communicate."

We sat in silence for a while longer, the weight of the conversation hanging heavy in the air. But this time, it was a different kind of silence. A hopeful one, filled with the promise of a new beginning.

As the first rays of dawn peeked over the horizon, painting the sky in a kaleidoscope of pinks and oranges, I knew we had a long way to go. But for the first time in weeks, I felt a spark of hope flicker within me. We were broken, yes, but not beyond repair. And with Y/N by my side, I was ready to face the challenges ahead, together.

We sat on the cool floor of the balcony, the city lights twinkling below like scattered diamonds. The weight of the confession had lifted, replaced by a fragile hope. The silence, this time, was filled with a tentative peace, an unspoken promise to rebuild. Y/N leaned against me while I played with her hair.

"So," I began, my voice rough from crying, "tell me about this promotion. You barely mentioned it."

Y/N chuckled, a fragile sound. "It all happened so fast. They needed someone to fill a senior role, and apparently, my name came up."

I couldn't help but feel a pang of something akin to jealousy. "Why didn't you tell me? We should've celebrated!" The words tumbled out before I could stop them, the memory of Kimi's congratulatory text a fresh sting.

Y/N's smile faltered slightly. "I tried, Seb. But you were always so… distant. Lost in your own world."

Her words hit a nerve, a stark reminder of my own failings. Shame burned in my gut. "I'm so sorry. I was a complete idiot."

Y/N reached out, her fingers brushing against mine. "It's okay. Just promise you'll listen now." Her voice held a note of playful challenge.

I squeezed her hand, the warmth seeping into my cold fingers. "Always."

We talked for hours, catching up on the lost weeks. I learned about her anxieties about the new role, the pressure to deliver, the long nights spent buried in technical manuals. She listened patiently as I recounted the grueling training sessions, the never-ending strategy meetings, the suffocating pressure to win.

"And those parties?" Y/N asked, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. "Stress relief, or just a way to avoid me?"

I winced. "Neither, honestly. Just… a way to escape for a while. I shouldn't have shut you out."

"Well, maybe next time, you could invite me to escape with you," she said, her eyes twinkling with a playful glint.

A relieved laugh escaped my lips. "Deal. But only if you promise to keep me grounded."

"Always," she replied, mimicking my earlier words before leaning in and planting a soft kiss on my lips. It was a simple gesture, but it felt like a spark igniting a long-dormant fire.

"But seriously, Seb," Y/N continued, her voice turning serious. "Are you taking care of yourself? Eating properly? Getting enough sleep?"

The concern in her voice washed over me. "I… I try," I admitted sheepishly. Travel, training, and the constant mental strain often took a toll on my well-being.

She shook her head playfully. "Trying isn't enough. Promise me you'll make an effort. For yourself, and for me."

Looking into her eyes, the love and worry shining back at me, I knew I couldn't refuse. "I promise my love," I said, my voice filled with newfound determination.

The night bled into morning, the city lights giving way to the soft glow of dawn. We still had a mountain of issues to navigate, the road to recovery wouldn't be easy. But with open communication, a newfound understanding, and the unwavering presence of the woman I loved by my side, I knew we could face anything, together.

"There's something else, isn't there?" Y/N asked, her voice gentle as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. The air hung heavy with unspoken thoughts, and I knew she could sense my hesitation.

"It's stupid, really," I mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

"Nothing's stupid if it's bothering you," she insisted, her touch a soothing balm on my conscience. Taking a deep breath, I met her eyes.

"Seeing you laugh with the other drivers," I admitted, shame creeping into my voice. "It felt… strange. Like you were a world away."

Y/N's brow furrowed in understanding. "Oh, Seb," she whispered, her voice laced with a hint of sadness.

"I know it's ridiculous," I continued, my voice defensive. "We're competitive, all of us. But seeing you smile… it just reminded me of how distant we'd become. When Kimi texted you about the promotion, I damn near wanted to strange him. All those time I declined lunch and Lewis came over and made you smile, I haven't hated myself more."

A small smile played on Y/N's lips. "Jealous of Lewis getting a laugh out of me?" she teased playfully.

"Maybe a little," I admitted sheepishly. "But mostly, I just missed seeing you happy, and having it be because of me."

The raw vulnerability in my voice seemed to soften her even further. She reached out, her thumb gently stroking a tear that traced a path down my cheek.

"We were both drowning, Seb," she said, her voice soft. "The pressure, the distance… it took its toll on both of us. But seeing them smile, seeing you smile, that's not a bad thing. It just means we know how to find joy, even when things are tough."

Her words resonated with me. Maybe, just maybe, she was right. Perhaps seeing her connect with others wasn't a sign of her drifting away, but a testament to her strength, her resilience.

"I guess I just…" I fumbled for the right words. "I just want to be the reason behind your smile."

Y/N's smile widened, brighter than the sunrise painting the horizon. "You are, Seb," she said, her voice filled with conviction. "You always have been, and I hope you always will be."

She leaned in then, her lips meeting mine in a kiss that spoke volumes. It was a kiss filled with forgiveness, a promise for a new beginning, and a reminder of the love that had weathered the storm. We might have been bruised, but we were far from broken. And as we sat there, bathed in the golden light of dawn, a new chapter in our love story began.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ avaspeaks - anon ur such a star <3 i hope u enjoy this ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[slayfics]

ive been thinking about a comfort story but instead of katsuki comforting the reader, she comforts him after a long day or struggling with something ❤️

You comfort Katsuki.

1k words

You prepared for an angry Katsuki to burst through the door any moment now. The new hero rankings had come out this afternoon and he had dropped rank, again.

It didn’t take much for you to imagine why. The week before the rankings Katsuki got rushed by reporters. Fresh out of a fight with a villain, adrenaline pumping, they spat out questions pushing for answers.

All the questions they knew would push The Great Lord Explosion Murder God Dynamite’s buttons.

“Dynamite, did you know it was the anniversary of the day you were attacked by the sludge villain?”

“Dynamite, how does it feel being behind Endeavor’s son in the hero charts?”

“Dynamite, can you make a statement about the damage you did to the city in your last fight?”

The list of draining questions went on, all captured on video, as Katsuki quickly lost his cool. Blurting out some colorful words for the reports to, not so politely fuck off.

You heard the keys in the latch and braced yourself for the sight of the angry blond. Yet, such a sight never came, instead, you met with a sight that was much more concerning.

Slumped shoulders, flat affect, vacant gaze. Katsuki sat on the couch silently working at taking off his boots. Not a word spoken to you. No sign of anger.

“Hey,” you greeted, testing the waters with him.

“Hey,” he mumbled without looking up as he tossed his boots aside. Head leaned back against the couch he closed his eyes.

"You want to talk about it?" you asked softly.

Katsuki inhaled sharply and shook his head no without opening his eyes. It was unusual to see him so defeated. Typical fiery ambition completely extinguished, lacking the energy to even be upset, he just sat.

You knew all too well how to extinguish the burning rage inside him, but this? This was new ground.

Your momentary paralysis gave Katsuki exactly what he needed. Space and quiet to just be. Slowly he opened up.

"You think it's because of how I responded to those damn reporters?" He asked.

"Possibly," you hummed. "You're human though Katsuki, all those pestering questions would have got under anyone's skin.

"Yeah but," he sighed before continuing. "You saw all the articles and viral edits. They didn't show the whole video, just the part of me losing my shit. A big majority of people think I blew up at some civilian reporters for no fucking reason," Katsuki huffed. "I don't give a damn about that though; people can think whatever the fuck they want... I'm I don't know," Katsuki paused and you gave him the air to finish processing his thought. "I'm fucking disappointed. All that damn therapy I went through- to still get so pissed at some dumb reporters, I should be way past that now. I'm still losing my temper like a goddamn child," he groaned, the displeasure in his voice weighing heavy.

"Katsuki," you cooed and moved closer to him bringing him into an embrace. Katsuki didn't fight you he welcomed your affection, finding solace from leaning into you. Head resting on your chest you combed your fingers through his hair. "Success isn't linear, and one mistake doesn't erase everything you've accomplished and worked for. It's a minor setback. It's tough but, it's nothing you can't come back on top of," you comforted him squeezing him with one arm and messaging his scalp with the other. Katsuki hummed into your chest taking in your words. You always knew what to say.

"I just fucking hate that I gave those reporters exactly what they wanted. They wanted me to blow up, gives them a good damn news story. Fucking vultures," he scowled.

"Mhm," you nodded. "You did, and you can't change that, but you can change how you're going to react moving forward because we know they aren't going to stop. Especially now that they've seen the effect they've had," you spoke problem-solving with him.

"Tch- yeah. I don't know what the fuck to do though. Walking away has been my go-to when I feel myself about to explode, but- in situations like that I'm rushed and cornered. Can't let out an explosion to fly away either because I'll hurt the fuckers. What's worse is I'm still workin' and trying to get back to the cops and agency to report what the fuck happened with the villain," he replied.

"Maybe you could say that... I'm working please move... or I'm working and cannot accept questions...," You suggested.

"Ha- I don't know about the please but... that's not such a bad idea... I'm goddamn working can't talk idiots," Katsuki huffed then relaxed more into your chest.

You giggled, "That does sound more authentic to Dynamite."

Katsuki nuzzled into your chest, his breaths becoming deeper, and the tension in his shoulders he had been carrying around all day finally easing up. "I shoulda called you right when I found out," he murmured.

"You know I'm always here whenever you're ready to talk... about anything," you answered. "I'm sorry I didn't call right away... sometimes I'm not sure when you need your space to process."

"You ain't got to apologize... I know my temperament isn't the easiest to read," he noted.

"I wouldn't have you any other way," you teased, pulling him up to press a kiss on his nose.

Katsuki clicked his tongue, "Cut that cheesy crap out," he complained the tips of his ears burning hot. "Besides, I still got dirt and shit all over me."

"I don't care," you remarked, giving him another kiss on his cheek.

Katsuki shifted in one swift motion pinning you down on the couch, "I said cut it out brat," he smirked, taking in the sight of you beneath him. "Why don't you come get cleaned up with me instead," he offered.

An offer you happily accepted.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69

[leilanihours]

Hii For nikaaa can you do something really domestic? like waking together making breakfast (forehead kisses alll the fluff)

# UNTIL I FOUND YOU

pairing: nika muhl x gf!reader

word count: 2243

warnings: fluff and like one suggestive line

summary: your perfect girlfriend loves to spoil you with her deep love and meaningful presents, especially on your special day

from lani: this was supposed to be a short blurb while i work on a longer (smuttier 🤭) fic for my girl nika but i got a little carried away ig sooo enjoy! oh also this was not proofread at all bc finals r killing me tbh oops

A BRIGHT SMILE is plastered on nika’s face as she quietly slips out of bed to jumpstart your special day. it was your 22nd birthday, your first one spent with nika as your loving girlfriend. the brunette had been carefully planning this day out weeks in advance to ensure that everything went perfectly.

with both of you having worked so hard at games and practices, she really wanted to make sure that you two had a day to relax and enjoy each other’s company all while celebrating you. nika is a gift giver, she loves curating special presents that she knows people will love. and when it came to you, there was no limit whatsoever.

one week before today, she snuck out of your shared off-campus apartment to pick up a little sundress that you have been talking about non-stop. she knows that you’ve been eyeing it but had to convince you not to buy it - only for her to buy for you herself, of course. and just last night, you and her were hanging out and paige and azzi’s apartment along with the rest of the team. while she went to pick up food for you all, she also bought your favorite flowers and snacks. so it’s safe to say that nika was not afraid to show her love for you.

reaching for the balloons, first round of presents, and bouquet of flowers she hid in the storage closet, she is practically bouncing with excitement at the thought of your reaction. she strategically sets up the gifts on the marble kitchen island so that it would be the first thing you see when you walk out of the room. after making sure the setup has been perfected, she gets to work on making breakfast.

nika happens to be an amazing cook, as her mom was enthused to have her help out in the kitchen when she was a child. so today, she opts for your all-time favorite breakfast meal: chocolate chip pancakes, turkey bacon, and a side of strawberries. however, it must have slipped her mind to be a little more quiet, her eagerness practically taking control of her.

you stir in your sleep as you hear the distant sound of pans and bowls clanging around. you rub your eyes and sit up slowly, still trying to process what was happening. you pat the space next to you, the space where you would usually find your girlfriend, but are met with cold emptiness. you frown at the realization and sleepily get up to brush your hair and teeth, simply assuming that she went for an early morning jog and you were just imagining the sounds. you clearly don’t remember that today is your own birthday.

you rub your eyes gently as you waddle out of your bedroom and into the kitchen, immediately noticing the cluster of adorable gifts laying on the counter. you take note of the flowers: pink and orange tulips paired with a couple of small white daisies - all wrapped together in brown parchment paper and a pretty white bow.

------

you walk hand-in-hand with nika as you both stroll down the fields of colorful flowers. you are surrounded by spring’s beauty, one of them being your girlfriend who is wearing a long, flowy sundress with her hair tied up in a messy braid. her brown strands compliment her skin and eyes perfectly, framing her face as you observe her features closely. her cheeks are slightly pink from the warm sun, adding a natural blush to her complexion. 

she turns her head to look at you, feeling your close stare. “hi,” she smiles.

“hi,” you respond, pressing a kiss to her pink lips. you could never resist the tint and shine of them, as if they were pulling you in like a bee to the pollen of a flower.

she giggles into the kiss before pulling away. you both slow your walk as she kneels down to pick one of the nearby flowers. it’s a tulip of pink and gold, almost resembling a sunset. she hands it to you to place in your shared basket, knowing full well that pink tulips are your favorites. 

you begin to walk ahead thinking she was right behind you, but you turn around to see her back on the ground picking up another flower. this time it’s a small white daisy. you saw it earlier and thought it was out of place amongst the vibrant tulips.

“c’mere, my love,” she says, beckoning you over. you oblige with furrowed eyebrows, confused as to why she would pick that flower out of all the other ones.

your question is answered when she gently brushes your loose hair out of your face and carefully positions the flower in the crook of your ear. you blush at the action as she goes to hold your free hand.

“my beautiful girl.”

------

the stuffed toy: a light brown cake character decorated with white frosting, strawberries, and a candle.

------

“oh my gosh, nika, come look at this,” you call your girlfriend over to your spot on the couch.

“what’s up, y/n?”

you show her your phone screen that is currently playing a video of someone’s jellycat haul. as the creator quickly showcases her collection, you point out how cute each one is - the small feet, cute expression, and pretty designs. you begin to go on a small rant as to why you think jellycats are the cutest stuffed toys, being too passionate for your own good.

however, nika is solely focused on the way your face lights up every time you see one you like. the upturn of your lips as you speak. the shine in your eyes as you ramble about the randomest thing.

the brunette has grown insanely found of your mannerisms, finding solace and comfort in your happiness.

------

the two vinyl records: “lover: live from paris” by taylor swift and “emails i can’t send” by sabrina carpenter - the two albums being at the top of your wishlist.

------

you were currently standing in between nika and paige, waiting to be interviewed by kk for your team’s socials to post for media day. you were all wearing your blue jerseys, hair and makeup done perfectly.

kk walks up to the three of you with a tiny mic in her hand as she makes her iconic “okay so boom” intro to the camera.

“let’s start with you, paige,” she begins, “fans have noticed you putting in extra work this season, you gonna show them that come back they’ve been waiting for?”

“yeah, man, i’m super pumped for the new season and for just being fully healed after warming the bench for so long.”

“maybe that’s just ‘cus you belong on the bench though,” kk jokes. paige fakes a punch to her as you all laugh along.

“okay so boom, moving onto the media’s favorite princess, ms. l/n,” kk teases, “what are your top three songs to get you hyped for game day? the fans seem to love your music taste…for some reason…so let’s give the fans what they want.”

“ignoring that sneak diss,” you say as you jokingly side-eye the freshman, “my top three would have to be the man by taylor swift, diva by beyonce, and feather by sabrina carpenter.”

“there you have it folks, y/n l/n’s pre-game favorites!” she exclaims, “now watch the streams on those three songs go up like crazy after today. okay nika, let’s get it.”

“how you doin’ kk?” she smiles.

“i’m doing great, thank you so much,” she puts a hand on her chest and fakes crying, “see this is what a loving and supportive teammate looks like y’all. take notes,” she directs to you and paige. you both look at each other and laugh.

“man, whatever,” paige waves her off, “she’s just buttering you up so she gets an easy question.”

“well it worked because i already know her answer to the question ima give her.”

“oh really?” nika asks with her eyebrows raised, intrigued by the freshman’s confidence, “hit me.”

“who, and be honest, is your favorite on the team?” she asks before turning to the camera to mouth: “it’s me.”

“y/n,” nika answers truthfully, turning to grin at you.

“yo, wait what? run that back, what’d you say?” kk says confused.

“y/n l/n. number 7. this girl right here,” she repeats as your wraps an arm around your shoulder. you rest your head against hers as you laugh at kk’s disbelief.

“alright whatever, i know you lying so let’s just end the video here.”

“oh one more thing,” nika says into the mic as she pulls kk back into frame, “y/n has better music taste than you.”

“okay, you know what? cut the cameras, cut it all,” she waves her hand in front of the phone as she jokingly storms off at the comment. you lift your head from her shoulder only to bury it in her neck as you laugh at her antics. you completely forget paige is still there with you guys.

“dude,” she says, trying to get your attention, “that was literally just me and kk being third and fourth wheels.”

------

you could tear up at the amount of thought put into these gifts as you distinctly remember having conversations about each of them with your girlfriend, who has now noticed your presence from her spot at the stove.

“y/n!” she yelps and rushes over to you, “you’re awake!”

“that i am,” you smile warmly as she hugs you tight.

“happy birthday my love, you are the brightest light in my life and i love you so so much,” she says, peppering light kisses all over your face.

you giggle at her antics and finally realize the meaning behind today. “thank you, nika, i love you too. did you get all this for me?”

“of course, baby, you know how i love to spoil you,” she winks.

“are you making breakfast, too?” you say, surprised.

“yes, i am. your favorites, naturally,” she grins as she makes her way back to the stove before the food burns.

“can i help?” you ask shyly.

“you’re supposed to be relaxing, baby, don’t you wanna just sit back and watch on the tv?”

“all i really want to do is be around my favorite person right now, but she seems a bit busy,” you tease. you come up behind her and wrap your arms around her waist, hugging her and kissing behind her ear.

“alright, i guess you can help me out,” she rolls her eyes playfully.

you smile into her neck before separating yourself to get the bacon out of the fridge. while you get to work on frying, nika goes to connect her phone to your bluetooth speaker. the first song that plays is “until i found you” by stephen sanchez. it quickly became the theme song of your relationship when you had your first public kiss at one of his concerts. fans went crazy over it once they saw videos and pictures, immediately loving your relationship.

you turn your head to the brunette, grinning widely. you both hum lightly to the music as you resume the cooking. nika occasionally presses a kiss to your temple or slides a hand on your waist whenever she walks past you, the small touches making you blush intensely.

a few songs, spills, and smiles later, nika sets the table for the two of you out on the balcony of your apartment. she put the flowers she gave you in a vase with water, bringing it out to the warm sun. as you bring out plates, cups, and cutlery, she snatches from your hands and insists that you sit down and let her do the work. despite trying to resist her, you cave once you notice the pleading look on her face.

once the two of you have settled into your cushioned chairs, you dig into the warm, delicious food as nika begins to discuss the plans for the rest of the day.

“so,” she starts, “once we’re done here, there’s one more gift waiting for you in the closet that i need you to wear today.”

“don’t tell me you got me lingerie,” you laugh.

“that’s not what i’m talking about!”

“i’m not hearing a denial,” you smirk.

“because i’m not denying it. that’s for later, though, don’t worry.”

you bite your lip in anticipation, already pumped for what she has in store later tonight.

“nika, you know i don’t need all of this to be happy on my birthday, right? as long as i have you next to me, my day is made,” you clarify as you reach for her hand.

“i know, my love, but you deserve to be spoiled and loved and appreciated, especially today, so i really wanted to show out for you.”

“thank you, baby,” you grin as you reach over the table to give her a kiss

“i love you so much, do you know that?”

“always have and always will.”

as the word slip out of your mouth, you warm up at the thought of spending the rest of your life with this girl. all the thought, time, and effort she must have put into making you feel special makes you aware of her undying love for you and yours for her. you never really believed in love, in long-term relationships. until you found her.

[livingdreams97]

Tara Carpenter -- "The lies I keep" (Part 3)

Tara Carpenter x Male reader/oc

Summary: Having a normal life is difficult after the one she considered her best friend tries to kill her and causes distrust in everyone she meets. But something or rather someone manages to enter her heart and hiding that person is the best thing that occurs to her.

Words: 4.194

PREVIOUS // NEXT

Masterlist

POV You

The walk to Tara's apartment happens in complete silence. I can feel my girlfriend's grip on my hand soften the further we walk and the closer we get to her house.

When I can make out the building in the distance, I can't help but a certain feeling of disappointment and sadness invade my body. Because arriving at that place means that my time with my girlfriend is over and I will have to say goodbye to her.

The worst thing of all is that everything was going well, we were having fun and we were together. For once in a long time, I was spending time and having fun with my girlfriend outside of college.

Plus, from the moment Tara told me she was going to the party and that we could be together, I had been so excited. But it was too good to be true.

Y/n: I guess we'll see each other on Monday in class.- I say when we enter the apartment lobby.

Tara: What are you talking about? - She asks me confused.

Y/n: That we'll see each other on Monday in class.- I respond just as confused as she is right now and I see some recognition in her eyes.

Tara: No, silly.- she laughs, pulling my hand towards her. -You are sleeping with me today, one way or another you were going to end up sleeping next to me.- she comments, starting to climb the stairs with me behind her. -And now that everyone knows you're my boyfriend, I don't have to sneak you into the house.- she assures me without importance, raising her shoulders.

Y/n: And your sister will agree? - I ask with some fear, since she didn't even know me and she has already given me an electric shock in my private parts.

Tara: Let my sister say whatever she wants, but after what she did tonight you're going to stay the night. - she assures, considering the topic settled.

I remain silent and decide to continue climbing the stairs with a small smile. Since, in the end it turns out that I won't go to my apartment alone and I will be able to spend more time with my girlfriend.

Once in front of the door of her apartment, she takes out her keys and begins to open some locks. And by some I mean about 3 or 4.

Tara: My sister is paranoid.- she tells me when she opens the last lock.

Y/n: I think she's just cautious, taking into account what happened last year. - I whisper with some insecurity, not wanting to say something that will anger or bother her.

She just gives me a pout with her lips in response and opens the door. She grabs my hand again and guides us through the apartment to her room.

Tara: Welcome to my space.- She introduces me to her room with a shy smile.

I look around the room, seeing the posters, books, plants and other objects in sight. He smiled, feeling the room be a perfect mirror of my girlfriend's personality and tastes.

Y/n: It's very you.- I assure her walking towards the bed, while I take off the gun holsters from my shoulders next to the "bullet" belt and letting myself fall into it.

Tara: Is that a good or bad thing? - she asks me walking towards her desk, taking off her boots along the way and waving her asthma inhaler to take a puff.

Y/n: Anything related to you is good.- I respond with a smile, watching how she uses her inhaler and smiles at me while holding her breath.

Quinn: Hey.- a girl comes in wearing short pink pajamas, who I recognize as the roommate my girlfriend told me about. -I'm sorry for telling Sam about the party.- she apologizes, not realizing my presence and I just watch in complete silence.

Tara: It's okay.- downplays it. -She never leaves me alone.- she assures her, starting to walk towards me and it is at that moment that the red-haired girl realizes my presence.

Quinn: Hello, handsome boy.- she greets me with a suggestive smile and I shift uncomfortably. -I didn't know you had a visitor.- she says to the girl who sits next to me.

Tara: Quinn, meet my boyfriend Y/n.- she introduces us by placing her hand on my thigh.

Y/n: Nice to meet you.- I say politely.

Quinn: Believe me, the pleasure is all mine.- she winks at me without removing the smile from her face.

Tara: Do you need anything else Quinn? - she asks, trying to sound friendly and squeezing my thigh with obvious annoyance.

Quinn: I just wanted to say that I understand what it's like to be suffocated.- she responds walking towards us. -After ah... we lost my brother, my father... he doesn't even let me breathe.- she says with some emotion, sitting next to me and leaving me between the two girls. -He even asked the New York police for a transfer when I started college, what a stalker.- she comments with false humor.

I clear my throat uncomfortably at the information, feeling that it is something quite sentimental and that I, a complete stranger to her, should not be listening to it.

Tara: Thank you Quinn.- she thanks her with a smile and the three of us remain silent for a few seconds.

Quinn: I'll leave you alone.- she says with a smile, getting out of bed and leaving the room, closing the door.

Y/n: That was awkward.- I whisper to make sure only my girlfriend hears me.

Tara: And you haven't listened to her fucking day in and day out.- she assures me, letting out a laugh.

Y/n: Okay, that does sound awkward.- I agree with her letting out a small laugh, amused by the face she makes at my comment.

Tara: You tell me.- she says ironically, joining me and allowing me to delight in her harmonious laughter.

This is something I will never admit to my girlfriend, but one of the few things that can brighten my day in a second, even on the worst of days, is her laugh.

I don't know why exactly, but something about the way she closes her eyes slightly when she laughs, her head thrown back, the way her dimples appear to adorn her beautiful face, the melodic but slightly raspy sound she makes, and the way her face lights up when she laughs makes me feel lighter.

Especially when out of shyness she covers her mouth with her hand so that her mouth cannot be seen and that makes her look even more cute and perfect.

Tara: Hey, are you okay? - she asks me, getting me out of my head.

Y/n: Yes, why? - I ask confused, looking into her beautiful brown eyes with a smile.

Tara: Because you've been staring at me and you've stopped laughing.- she responds with some confusion and amusement in her tone of voice.

Y/n: It's just that I like to see you happy and laughing even if it's only from time to time. - I whisper with sincerity and insecurity, not knowing how my comment is going to be taken.

Because there are precedents in our conversations, where I make an innocent comment about something and she completely changes her attitude in a single second.

I know that many times that reaction is due to the trauma she suffered, but there are times when I am afraid to say something and that she will react in a negative way as has happened before.

Tara: When I'm with you I'm happy.- she assures me in a whisper and I feel my body relax completely at her answer.

Y/n: I'm glad, because the feeling is mutual.- I assure her with a light smile.

She smiles back at me and we stay for a few seconds looking at each other in complete silence. Little by little we unconsciously get closer to each other and I lean forward, but stop when I am a few centimeters from her face.

Tara: Now is when you kiss me.- she whispers amused.

I deny with my head letting out a small laugh, before eliminating any space between our faces and joining my lips with hers in a calm kiss.

One of her hands is immediately placed on the back of my neck, where she caresses the place with her nails and I can feel how her other hand grabs my shirt, pulling at it to bring me even closer to her body.

My hands in response are placed on her thigh, where I can feel the material of her mesh leggings and the warmth and softness of her skin that the leggings leave exposed. While my other hand is placed on the mattress on one side of her body, so that I can have comfortable support and not end up falling on her body abruptly.

Quinn: I left my phone.- We hear after the door opens and we both quickly separate from the kiss. -Did I cockblock you?- she asks with a gesture that's somewhere between regretful and amused.

Tara: What did you say? - She asks her with some embarrassment and astonishment.

Quinn: Cockblock you? I've cockblocked you, didn't I? - she repeats the question several times, causing me to shift uncomfortably in my place and feel the heat rise up my neck out of embarrassment.

Tara: immediate no. - She denies just as uncomfortable as I am.

Quinn: Obviously i cockblocked you.- she nods confidently, alternating himmediate gaze between my girlfriend and me.

Y/n: Oh my god.- I groaned even more embarrassed, covering my face and letting myself fall backwards onto the bed.

Tara: What did you wanted? - she asks himmediate softly, changing the subject.

Quinn: My phone.- she answers and I hear something light move.

Tara: Call next time before entering.- she asks her roommate.

Quinn: Don't worry.- she assures her with a calm tone. -Good night.- she says goodbye and I hear quick movements.

Tara: Quinn!- she whispers quickly and with a nervous tone.

Quinn: I'm so sorry.- I hear her whisper back and I open my eyes to see her leave the room, closing the door behind her.

My girlfriend falls next to me, covering her face with her hands like I did just a few moments ago and letting out a big sigh.

Y/n: What was that for? - I ask a little amused, leaning on my elbow and looking at my girlfriend.

Tara: Nothing. - she denies quickly and I can see the reddish color adorning her cheeks when she removes her hands from the face.

Y/n: Well, tell it to your face, because it's redder than a tomato. - I assure her amused, poking her cheek with my ring finger and laughing when she slaps it away even redder.

Tara: It's not funny.- she denies covering her face with her hands again.

Y/n: A little bit, yes it is.- I assure her with amusement, leaning over her body and trying to remove the hands from her face with my free one.

Tara: Idiot.- she growls at me with amusement, allowing me to remove her hands from her face and looking at me with one of her perfect smiles.

I look at her amused, before leaning completely over her body and joining our lips again. She kisses me back immediately, once again placing one of her hands on the back of my neck and the other on my back under my shirt.

I remain supported on my elbow, while my other hand is placed on her neck and go down until it lands on her waist.

Tara: You're wearing a lot of clothes.- she assures me, separating from the kiss and pulling my shirt so I can take it off.

I quickly break away from the kiss, taking off my shirt in one motion and throwing it somewhere in the room.

Now shirtless, I join our lips again in a kiss that is more needy and abrupt than the previous one. Feeling her nails gently scratch my back and causing my skin to tingle from the action.

With my free hand, I begin to push aside the black vest she is wearing and with her help I take it off. She gently pushes me on the chest to separate me and I do so, looking at her confused.

But my confusion disappears in a second, when she sits on the bed and takes off her white blouse, leaving her in a white lace bra. She throws the blouse somewhere, before turning to me and leaning in to reconnect our lips.

With her hand on my chest again, she pushes me to lie on my back and I do. She climbs on top of me, leaving one of her hands on my chest and moving the other towards my hair.

My hands move to her waist again, where I can feel the contrast between the softness of her skin and the material of her shorts between my fingertips.

The kiss becomes more and more hungry, her body begins to move on mine and both of our hands begin to explore the other's body.

I feel how the hand on my chest descends dangerously, reaching the waistband of my pants and how two of its fingers go inside the material.

My hands run over her back and sides feeling the different textures, before ending up on her butt and leaving a squeeze on it causing a muffled moan from her.

Tara: Pants off.- she orders me with heavy breathing, getting up from above me and lying down on the bed next to me.

I watch as she unbuttons hers, moving to take them off as quickly as possible as well as her mesh leggings and throws them to the ground.

I imitate her action by unbuckling my belt with some difficulty due to nerves, which makes her desperate and her hands begin to help me take off my pants.

But as soon as she starts to take them down, a quick loud knock on her bedroom door scares us.

Chad: Come out now! - he exclaims with some urgency in his voice. -Tara, come to the living room right now, you have to see this!- he exclaims after stopping knocking on the door.

Tara: I'm coming! - she growls annoyed, letting out a big sigh full of frustration and anger.

She lets her head fall onto my chest, trying to relax her breathing and trying to calm down.

Y/n: It seems like this isn't the time.- I comment, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere in the room.

Tara's POV

I can not believe it. They can't leave me alone even in my own room. I'm tired of being watched all the time and not being left alone for even five minutes.

I move away from my boyfriend's chest, getting out of bed and walking towards my closet. I pull out the first thing I see, which is a white long-sleeved t-shirt with black stripes and jeans, and put them on.

I put on a pair of sneakers and notice that my boyfriend is sitting on the side of the bed fastening his belt.

I sigh with some guilt and frustration, feeling that because of me he has already suffered enough tonight and for not being able to finish what we have started. I can still feel his hands on my body, the heat of his body on mine, and the discomfort in my underwear.

But for now I only can ignore it and hope that whatever Chad wants isn't too important.

Tara: I'm so sorry.- I apologize with guilt, letting out a sigh and catching his attention.

Y/n: Why are you apologizing? - He asks me confused, getting up from the bed without a shirt on and walking towards me.

Tara: For everything.- I answer honestly. -But especially because of what has happened in the last few hours.- I comment, unable to look anywhere other than his exposed torso.

Y/n: You don't have to apologize for anything Tar.- he assures me, calling me by my nickname, grabbing my face by the cheeks and forcing me to look at his face gently. -Nothing that happened was your fault, nothing.- he emphasizes, looking me straight in the eyes.

Tara: But Sam and everything...- I try to defend my point, but he interrupts me with a kiss.

Y/n: Nothing was your fault, so don't you dare apologize.- he murmurs against my lips. -So if you don't want me to get angry with you, don't apologize again.- he finishes before leaving another soft kiss on my lips.

Tara: I think it's better that you wear a t-shirt to go out. - I commented amusedly when we separated from the kiss.

Y/n: That's what I was thinking of doing.- He answers, looking at me with half-closed eyes.

Tara: Well, hurry up, before someone else comes banging on the door of my room. - I asks him, leaving a soft slap on his bare chest and separating me from his body.

He searches for his shirt quickly, finding it on my desk and putting it back on. Once he is fully dressed, I grab his hand and pull him towards the living room.

When we get to the living room, we see that my friends and Quinn are watching television with their faces full of worry.

Mindy: Sam is already coming up.- He tells me when he notices our presence and I sit in the armchair without taking my eyes off the television.

On the screen you can see the news of a murder of two Blackmore students. I only realize that my sister has entered through the door, because she enters quickly asking what is happening and that catches my attention.

Quinn: The handsome guy.- points to the boy who lives in front of our building entering behind my sister.

I don't pay attention to him and quickly return my gaze to the TV. I open my eyes in surprise when they announce the names of the victims and they turn out to be Jason and Greg, two students that almost all of us know.

Mindy: Damn, he's the geek in film class.- she comments immediately. -The one obsessed with Argento.- she points out while eating popcorn.

But the worst part comes when they announce that they have found ghostface costumes in their apartment and that makes me look at my sister immediately.

Sam: The suitcases.- she orders walking towards the kitchen. -We leave in ten minutes. - warns bluntly.

Tara: Sam, wait Sam! - I ask walking behind her.

Sam: We're leaving town.- she announces to everyone present, but especially to me.

Tara: Sam, are you kidding? - I asked her in disbelief at her disproportionate reaction.

Sam: We're leaving.- she assures me while she chooses one of the knives in the kitchen and leaves with the knife in her hand.

Tara: Sam, wait.- I ask her without stopping following her. -Let's talk for a moment, because maybe this has nothing to do with us. - I try to convince her so that we don't have to leave and because I have the hope that the same thing from last year won't happen again.

Sam: Are you kidding? - she asks me with obvious sarcasm.

Tara: It's New York, on Halloween everyone wears masks and... - I try to explain but she interrupts me.

Sam: Tara, this is not a coincidence.- she denies seriously. -You knew him.- she refers to Jason.

Tara: Barely.- I defend myself quickly.

Sam: Chad, Mindy back me up.- she asks my friends.

Chad: It is a little bit...- he begins and his sister finishes for him.

Mindy: Close to home. - She shrugs her shoulders when I say it when I look at her wrong.

Sam: See.- she tells me when my friends agree with her.

I quickly think about the situation and how I can find a way so that Sam doesn't go crazy and force me to leave without giving me any other option.

Tara: Quinn, your father is a cop, right? - I ask her, remembering the times he has mentioned it to me. -Well, call him and let him find out what's going on.- I ask my friend with some desperation. -Before you make a lateral decision and make me abandon my college studies, my boyfriend and flee the fucking state.- I turn to my sister at the end with reproach.

Quinn: I'm calling him.- she comments out loud, placing the cell phone to his ear.

Tara: Thank you.- I thank her immediately.

I look over at my boyfriend, who looks at me with some nervousness and some fear from his spot next to Chad. 

I try to smile at him to reassure him, but as soon as we hear the ringtone of Sam's cell phone we all look towards the object and the atmosphere becomes so tense that it is suffocating.

Sam walks over to the cell phone with me behind her and takes it in her hands, allowing us to see the name of the person who is calling her. Gale Weathers. My sister rejects the call and the room is silent again for a few seconds.

Ethan: Why everyone freaked out when the phone rang? - he asks with a small nervous smile.

Anika: You got to keep up, my dude. - she says with a tired face to Chad's roommate.

Quinn: Sam, my father wants to talk to you.- she says approaching us and handing him the phone.

My sister receives it immediately, placing it in her ear and starting to talk to our roommate's father.

They don't spend much time talking, before the call ends and he hands the phone back to the redhead.

Tara: What's wrong? What did he say to you? - I ask my sister, watching as she walks towards the entrance and grabs her blue bomber jacket from the coat rack. -Sam?- I call walking behind her.

Sam: I have to go to the police station, you stay here and don't go out under any circumstances.- she says looking at everyone present. -It won't take long for me to get back.- she assures us, putting on her jacket and walking out the door.

I take a deep breath, trying to think of something and hastily grab my pink bomber jacket and go out after her.

I start to go down the stairs quickly, feeling my heart beating fast in my throat and the fear that something could happen to my sister.

Y/n: Tara! - I hear behind me. -Tara, wait.- he asks me, standing next to me. -Where do you plan to go?- he asks me quickly.

Tara: With my sister as commissioner.- I answer in a simple way.

Y/n: Your sister said not to leave the apartment and I'm sure she was referring above all to you. - she reminds me without stopping following me.

Tara: And when has my sister respected my space or what I ask of her?- I remind him with a frown, seeing that Sam is one floor below me.

Y/n: Well then I'll go with you.- he tells me confidently and I look at him quickly.

Tara: No, you stay here with the rest.- I order him without looking at him and speeding up my pace so that my sister doesn't escape from me.

Y/n: Are you serious? - he asks me with some disbelief. -If you really think I'm going to let you leave alone in the middle of the night and after that news you're crazy.- he lists his reasons for accompanying me.

Tara: Okay.- I agree, letting out a tired sigh, but feeling a warmth invade my chest at his concern.

We continue down the stairs quickly, staying a few meters from Sam just when he reaches the main doors of the building and leaves them.

Tara: Sam, wait! - I call her, leaving the building behind her so she can wait for us.

Sam: Tara, no.- she tells me turning around. -Go back inside and lock the door.- she tells us, walking towards me and pushing me towards the entrance through which I just came out.

Tara: Are you kidding me, now you don't want to stick together? - I ask her in disbelief, ready to defend my position and reasoning for accompanying her.

Sam: Fine, but if I tell you to run, you do it and you don't stop until you reach the police station. - she points her finger at us, before turning around and heading towards the police station with us at her side.

We walk to the police station in complete silence, with me between my sister and my boyfriend. A few minutes after starting the walk, my boyfriend linked our hands and clung close to my body, giving me a feeling of protection.

But our walk stops when Sam's cell phone rings again and when he takes it out of his pocket we both freeze when we see the contact's name.

[bloatedandalone04]

In The Way I Need You | Part 11

Series Masterlist

➪in which clay makes it up to you after you found that now destroyed picture of him and sam, and you confess to what happened after he left jess’.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | THANK YOU FOR 4.7K FOLLOWERS

Today was one of the rare days that Clay got to work with his mom, and of course she was able to tell that something was wrong as soon as he entered the room. 

When he tried to wave it off, she pressured him into going home early and resting - assuming it was something to do with his heart, which was a lot better than her finding out the real reason why he wasn’t his usual self. There was no way he could tell her that he was miserable because he fucked things up with you again.  

He knew you would be there when he got home, and he was almost nervous to face you after this morning. He had the full intention to apologize to you and explain further, but you completely shut him out, and he understood why. 

If you needed space, he’d give you it, but it wouldn’t make him feel any less like an asshole for having Sam’s picture in his drawer, even if he forgot about it entirely before you found it. 

Clay was scared that you’d stop babysitting Joey, and they’d be alone again. You had filled in most of the hole Sam left, which was surprising in itself since you hadn’t been in his life for too long. 

Since he was coming home a bit early today, he was hoping he would be able to talk to you for a bit longer. His mom wouldn’t be back until later tonight, and Clay was planning on explaining things to you when Joey goes to bed. If you even decided to stay that long and let him. 

He got home at around six thirty, and he was up the stairs within seconds when he heard yours and Joey’s mixed laughs coming from the kitchen. The sound was one he wanted to hear all the time, and that just further proved how badly he needed to fix things between you and him. Because Joey loved you. And Clay…well, he really liked you and didn’t want things to end because of Sam. 

Clay entered the kitchen and met your eye almost immediately, and he was forced to watch your smile fade as you set Joey down. He runs over to Clay with a big grin and a laugh as he picks him up, greeting him in the way Clay loved. “Hi, daddy,”

“Hi, buddy,” he said back, kissing the top of his son’s head before looking back at you. “Y/n.”

You seemed to have been frozen before and when he said your name, you quickly straightened up and put down the spoon you were holding. “You’re back early,” you observe and hesitantly make your way over to him and Joey. “I thought you’d be gone another few hours. I was going to clean.”

Clay shook his head and set Joey down. “Don’t worry about it,” he waved you off as Joey grabbed his hand. He looked tired, and Clay knew he needed to go to sleep. So with pleading eyes he said, “I’m going to go get him ready for bed. But I want to talk to you about…everything. Will you stay? Please?”

You bite down on your bottom lip and reach out to run your knuckles along Joey’s cheek. “Yeah,” you answer quietly, meeting Clay’s eyes again. “I’ll stay.”

A sigh of relief left his mouth and he was quickly taking Joey upstairs and getting him ready for bed. Once he was tucked under his covers and holding his teddy bear, Clay leaned down and kissed the top of Joey’s head. “I love you, Joe,” he whispered, then turned and made his way back to you. 

You were sitting on the couch, your leg bouncing a bit as you picked at your nails, and Clay passed by the living room and continued on to the kitchen, where he grabbed a diet coke from the fridge before heading back to you. “Here,” he murmured and held it out to you.

The smile you gave him as you took it had his heart skipping a beat, and he quickly sat next to you. “You know, I got mad at my coworker today,” you say quietly as you run the tip of your index finger along the cold can. “Like, really mad.”

Clay’s lips turned upwards at your choice of a conversation starter and he leaned back on the couch. “You got mad?” He asked with a teasing tone that made your smile grow a bit. “Why?”

You bite down on your lip and lean back as well, looking over at him with a blush coating your face. “Because he’s an ass,” you answer simply, making Clay let out a surprised laugh. “He was. It was right after you left. His name is Miles, and he started saying all this stuff after you were gone and not there to defend yourself, and even if you were there, I know you still wouldn’t defend yourself because you are far too sweet to stand up to someone you don’t know, but I’m not.”

He held back a laugh at that since he knew you were probably right. Clay couldn’t even stand up to his mom or Sam when she was still around, and he knew there was a small chance that he’d actually stick up for himself to a total stranger. 

You, on the other hand…he’d stand up for you, just like how you supposedly did for him. 

“So when you left, I was reading through your texts that I stupidly didn’t answer and then he just had to say something. He said that you were probably some rich guy who’s stuck up and only came to Jess’ to pity poor people like him and I,” you rambled and Clay couldn’t stop himself from reaching over and grabbing your hand. Thankfully you allowed him to and laced your fingers with his. “I went off on him. I was practically yelling at him and telling him to shut up in front of all the customers and on my first day of working there. You and I weren’t even on good terms and I was still acting like we were and I probably totally embarrassed myself in front of everyone there, including my new boss.”

You were beginning to sound a bit breathless, so you stopped and waited for a few beats, and Clay didn’t say a word. 

“But I didn’t care, because he was being an ass and I needed to say something to him about it because,” you stopped yourself short and Clay thought for a split second that you were going to say those three words that had been swirling around in his head for a few days now. It was too early, right? You didn’t feel that way, right? “I like you so much. You’re so sweet and kind and caring and the best dad to Joey. I couldn’t stand hearing him say all these horrible things about you when he doesn’t even know you.”

Clay smiled and felt his body heat up at the way you defended him from the coworker he’d seen eyeing you up the entire time he was visiting you at Jess’. “I don’t know what to say,” he laughed, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand. “No one has ever publicly defended me like that before.”

“Yeah, well,” you laughed, too, but he could tell that you were starting to feel a bit embarrassed. “Maybe it was stupid of me to risk doing that on my first day, but…I just didn’t care.”

Clay’s brows furrowed in concern. “You didn’t get fired, did you?”

“No, no, I just…I told Jess that the hot guy that came in before Miles and I’s argument was my…boyfriend, and how we weren’t doing great at the moment, and she understood for the most part,” you answer with a forced smile. “It just can’t happen again.”

Clay nodded and then when he was sure you were done, he knew it was his turn. “That picture you found, the one in my drawer? Well, it’s in about a hundred pieces right now,”

Your eyes widened and you sat up, setting your drink aside. “You ripped it up? Clay, that was your wedding photo. That day was supposed to be a good memory to hold onto,”

He just shook his head and squeezed your hand. “It’s over,” he whispered. “What Sam and I had…it’s not even a good memory anymore. That picture? It doesn’t mean anything at all to me anymore, and that’s why it’s in pieces in the garbage.”

You press your lips together in a way that told him you were holding back a smile, and he fought one off himself as he continued,

“Sam is just the person who helped give me Joey. That’s all she is to me,” he promised and watched as you nodded. “She doesn’t mean anything, and she hasn’t for a long time. You on the other hand…you’re…”

He stopped talking as he didn’t know where he was going with that. You meant so much to him and to Joey, he honestly didn’t know where he would be right now without you. But it was still so soon, and he promised he wouldn’t rush things with you. It worked so well for him last time. 

“I’m what?” You pressed, leaning closer to him and reaching up to lightly grip his shoulder. 

“You’re everything she’s not,” he replied, sitting up straight. “I mean, Joey is practically obsessed with you already. You’re all he talks about when you’re not here, and he’s attached to you when you are here. He’s like his dad in that way.”

The smile you give him at that could only be described as fucking beautiful, and then you were carefully crawling on top of him and straddling his lap. 

Clay reached up to smooth out your hair. “You’re who I want to be with. And I’m sorry you saw that picture. I thought I had gotten rid of it a while ago,” he murmured, leaning in and kissing behind your ear. “I don’t ever go in that drawer, so I promise, I really had no idea-”

You cut him off with a kiss to his mouth that was pretty effective in getting him to forget about what he was about to say. “Clay,” you mumble when you pull away, kissing the corner of his mouth quickly afterwards. “Stop making yourself feel bad with excuses. I already forgave you.”

Clay smiled, then you were kissing him again. “I missed you yesterday,” he confessed against your lips. “I really wanted to take you out on our second date.”

You whined and pulled away. “Don’t remind me,” you whispered, dropping your head onto his shoulder, your fingers tangling in his hair afterwards. “I feel guilty about that. You were so cute before I found that stupid fucking picture.”

“I’m not now?” He teased and you pulled back to give him a pointed look. “Sorry.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, Clay,” you mumbled, running the tips of your fingers along his jaw. “Maybe I overreacted. But I hated seeing you with her, even if it was through a photo.”

“You didn’t overreact,” he murmured, leaning up to kiss the side of your neck. “That photo shouldn’t have been in there. I promise, you won’t find any more around. She’s out of our lives.”

“Okay,” you trail off, gently massaging the back of his neck. “I missed you, too. Can we spend a day together soon? Or did I blow the one chance we had?”

Clay laughed, already knowing when the next time you and he would be alone together could be, but he decided to keep it from you for just a bit longer. “We’ll have another chance,” he promised and watched as you nodded then looked down at his lips. Without another word being spoken, you leaned in and kissed him softly, your lips barely brushing against his as if you were testing it out. It reminded him of the first kiss you shared, and the memory had him grabbing hold of your hips and pressing you tight against his chest. 

The feeling of your fingers tangling in his hair felt concerningly good, and Clay realized that it had been a while since he felt this comfortable with a woman. Sam did a number on him and he had only let himself indulge in a few meaningless conversations with women before he decided he just wasn’t ready to move on yet. 

That was before, now he was pretty much all in with you. 

You adjusted yourself so you were straddling his lap, your hips pressed to his in a way that had him holding back a groan of want. He would let you decide how far this goes, even if it left him with a killer boner afterwards. “Is this okay?” You asked sweetly, pulling away just enough to be able to look him in the eye. 

“Yeah,” came his strained reply as he leaned his head back on the top of the couch. “It’s okay. More than okay.”

You press your lips together, sliding your hands back down to his shoulders. “It’s not too much?” You asked quieter this time, and he adored the way you were so concerned about doing something that could potentially trigger his heart rate to spike. 

Clay shook his head, bending his legs more so his thighs were a bit firmer. Your lips part in a silent gasp, and it took a lot out of him to not kiss you again as he said, “It’s not too much, baby,”

He knew that nickname did things to you. He caught the way you reacted to it the first time he called you it, and he made a mental note that you clearly liked it. “Oh, God,” you groaned, leaning in and dropping your head to his shoulder. “Clay.”

Ever since the first time he had heard the sweet sounds you make when you get like this, Clay had been determined to coax them out of you more often. It was impossible to not get riled up when your soft moans filled the quiet living room, and it was hard not to notice the fact that he usually spends most of his time in here with you. 

The memory of his first kiss with you flashed through his mind, and he groaned at where that kiss led to. You on top of him, your hands tangled in his hair and your hips dragging against his in a way that should not feel so good. But it was you, and Clay was beginning to think that everything with you felt good. 

Your lips brushing against his in a barely-there kiss got him out of his head and he held onto your waist a bit tighter, leaning up to kiss you properly. You returned it, pulling on his hair as you shifted your body back and forth on his lap. “Do we..” You trailed off, massaging the spot on his head where you had tugged on his hair. “We have time?” You hesitantly asked, slowing down the drag of your hips. 

“I got sent home early,” he laughed breathlessly, watching as a smile formed on your lips. “My mother wouldn’t put up with my pouting.” 

You laugh, shifting so you were higher up on his lap and pressing your chest to his. “This pout,” you murmur, wrapping one arm around his shoulders while the hand of your other came up to caress the side of his face. “It does something to me.” Your index finger traces the outline of his lips as you begin rubbing yourself against him again. 

“At least it works on you,” he teased and you bit down on your lip, leaning in to press a deep kiss to his mouth. 

“So,” you dragged the word out. 

“So,” he echoed, guiding the slow roll of your body. “We have more than enough time.”

You smile at him, picking up the pace again. “Feels so good, Clay,” you whimper, wrapping your arm tighter around him and dropping your head to his shoulder. “Just like how it felt upstairs in the hall.”

Clay groaned, bucking his hips upwards and making a surprised moan leave your mouth. “You sounded so pretty,” he reminisced, bunching up your shirt. “Tasted so good.”

“Oh, my God,” you moaned loudly, moving a bit erratically now. “It’s too much.”

“Are you gonna come?” He asked under his breath, unable to speak any louder than that in fear he’d give away just how much of an effect you have on him. 

You nod quickly, bunching his shirt in your hands. “Are you?”

Clay leaned back against the top of the couch again, gazing up at you with a lazy smile. “Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” you answer instantly. “With me? Please?”

Clay grunted, in a bit of disbelief at how sweet you sounded when asking for something so dirty. He was sure he’d give you anything you wanted if you asked him like how you just did. “Come, baby,” he requested in a raspy voice, and you squeezed your eyes shut as your body shook on top of his. 

He came with you, making a real mess in his boxers that he honestly didn’t care about. It’d been a long time since he was intimate with someone, but you made him feel better than he had ever felt. He was sure it was because it was with you, the girl he’s been so into since the minute he met you. 

Your body stilled on top of his, your fingers trailing through his hair as you came down from your high. “How?” You asked breathlessly, pulling away from his shoulder to be able to look him in the eye. “How do you make it feel so good every time?” 

Clay laughed, smoothing out your messy hair and ruffled shirt before pressing a kiss to your swollen lips. “Maybe I’ll let you find that out next time,”

With that promise, you grinned at him and pulled him down so he is laying on top of you and your arms are wound tightly around him.

-

Next up...some time alone..

Thank you for reading this extremely late chapter !

[ghouljams]

im not super caught up on ur cowboy au (i LOVE goose n ghost, the dynamic of simon being with price's kid who ACTS like she's prices kid tickles my brain so well) and i dont want to come across as rude... but why is bee with konig lmao. ive been reading the recent discourse and if she's a DA survivor, what draws her to him? what could he possibly do to make her forgive and move on from him being such a piece of shit to goose and making such an ass of himself? like, if he calls a woman a whore and a dog because he was butthurt about getting his ass kicked by someone he doesnt respect just bc she's a woman and small, then why would bee think highly of him or even feel SAFE around him? i really don't mean to be rude about this lmao i just wanna pick your brain

as an abuse victim, even after YEARS of 'calm' and 'changes of ways', i would never be able to completely get rid of the lingering fear after seeing something like that. i can't imagine bee wasn't scared of konig in that moment

and as someone from a small town, making an ass of yourself like that will never be forgiven nor forgotten lol. konig will forever be remembered as the lumbering instigator that fucked around and found out, and if bee stayed with him, that reputation would get stuck to her too

again, i dont know bee's character super well (and i support womens rights and wrongs; she can be flawed and choose to look past things other people won't ignore to stay with someone she cares about) but i just wanna know your author thoughts lol these are your boobahs and i like to hear the thoughts. ill have time later today to read through your posts more too, i havent dug into bee's mostly bc i don't care for konig, but if they're all getting interlinked like this id like more context. just a heads up i might come back later and be like "AND ANOTHER THING-" or whatever lol

thank u hugs kisses i like ur cowboy stories :) <3

GREAT QUESTIONS

So I will say that in the overall context of the cowboy au I will be slotting Goose fighting König into the realm of "very dubiously canon" because you're right, there's no way Bee would trust him again after this.

I'm going to attempt to answer all your questions, but please bear with me because I can get long winded.

So to start off I will say that while Bee's backstory has been hinted at, it's never been officially written down. In my mind, the abuse she suffered at the hands of her (now dead) ex husband was mostly mental and emotional, I think if there was physical abuse that was her last straw that she had to get out.

Bee's relationship with König is interesting because I think in her mind, he is a sort of savior figure. He's always been there when she needed him, he never pressured her into anything, he was always kind and respectful, etc. König is big and scary, but he truly has always treated Bee incredibly well, and despite his *ahem* unorthodox methods has always had her best interest at heart. Bee is also VERY recently divorced, and he took EVERYTHING. König has been her rock since she moved to town and she's sort of imprinted on him to a certain extent.

For König... I have talked before about how I think he views women, but I will condense it into how I think he views Goose specifically before/after/during their fight. König has only met Goose once before in written canon and she pulled a gun on him immediately. It's not that Goose is a woman, it's that she is associated with Ghost. That is what I would consider the bottom line in König's thinking. If Goose was just some random woman in town he wouldn't care but she specifically occupies the space of "enemy combatant" because she's with Ghost.

I will say also König already has a reputation as a weird freak in town. People don't really care for him, but now he's also the guy that Goose beat up. So... not great for him. Bee on the other hand is fairly well liked. She's sort of clueless but she's well meaning and generally willing to learn or correct her mistakes. Like I said this fight fic is pretty dubiously canon I don't think it will actually effect the story the way it would irl, but those are Bee/König's standings in town.

As for whether Bee would take König back after watching him go after someone Bee sees as smaller and weaker than him(though König sees Goose as just another enemy to be taken down, women or not)... I don't know. That's why I say this fic is really dubiously canon, because you're right I don't see her taking him back after this. I think this would be the end of it, and I really love the love story I've crafted for the two of them. So it's a big old shrug from me boss. IDK

I think a genuine apology from König to Goose would help a lot. I think König sitting down and explaining his past to Bee would also help. If there was some added context, that it's a long standing beef between himself and Ghost and he made a bad judgement call, then that would be good for getting on the road to healing. Bee would also have to sit down and explain her feelings to König, all in all it would have to be a complete open communication between them, likely with a therapist moderating. But I don't want to write that because I genuinely don't think I would be able to do it justice.

Bee's story is one of my favorites, it's her fairy tale ending, it's her rebuilding her life and finding love despite her trepidation. It's a story of self healing and love, and I don't want to sabotage it with a fight.

[commsroom]

do you have any ideas for what you want for eiffel and hera post-canon?

yes, i do! the answer to that really depends on whether we're talking short term or long term, and what i want vs. what i think will happen is... well, i think they'll be okay. eventually. they'll get there.

i'm firmly in the camp that eiffel gets his memories back (fairly short-term in my mental timeline; given the most likely ways that he could get his memories back, it doesn't make much sense for him to be without them for more than a few months) and that hera gets a body (more complicated, and somewhat more long term), but my reasoning for why i think those things work narratively would be a long post in itself (and i've made multiple posts about those topics already) so i won't get into the why here. just, i think it happens.

the note the finale ends on definitely implies eiffel, hera, and minkowski intend to stick together on earth, and i think minkowski feels a lot of responsibility for them, given everything. so i think they live with her, for the foreseeable future. eiffel's not good at holding down a job, and hera... i think it's important that she gets a chance to try things without fear of failure and to separate her self worth from productivity. eiffel and hera are meant to be minkowski's slacker roommates. hera should be creating unmarketable art.

and the issue of where they live will come up pretty quickly, i think - hera doesn't have any particular attachment to anywhere, except for a desire to see the ocean, but mobility might be a problem. minkowski is a career military woman who's moved around a lot, but her husband worked in DC, so presumably they lived in... probably maryland or virginia? before she accepted the job, and that's a complicating factor if she's choosing who to prioritize. i think eiffel would be pretty adamant about staying in texas so he's at least in the same state as his daughter, even if he can't see her. and as much as i would like for eiffel to be able to be a part of her life again, because i know how much he wants that... i don't think it's very likely. at least not any time soon. and he won't handle that well.

speaking about post-canon wolf 359, i don't tend to get that into potential legal / media circuit stuff because... frankly, i don't think it's that important to what the show is about. i'm sure it will be a scandal, but lots and lots of space-travel-related scandals are going on in that world, and cutter and pryce were very intentionally not the public faces of goddard futuristics. it'll pass. that said, the aspect of that i am interested in is legal personhood - that's going to be a hurdle for hera to be able to live her life, and i think eiffel will worry - even if it isn't totally rational - about whether he'll be able to stay out of prison once no longer legally dead, not knowing exactly what the terms of cutter's arrangement were. being an ex-convict is going to complicate some facets of his life regardless.

there's just a lot of stuff that being on earth is going to bring up for them. and i think they'll be there for each other, obviously - one of the things i like most about their relationship is how much they're able to be a refuge for each other in some objectively horrible situations - but they're both pretty insecure people who feel like everyone is bound to replace them, and earth is going to give hera some serious separation anxiety while she's bound to one location and the others aren't, and those are things they're going to have to work through.

as for what i want for them... well. i think eiffel will give hera a 'promise ring' with a kind of jokey but good natured promise that one day she'll be able to wear it. and she does! but neither of them are sure if that counts as a proposal in retrospect and they dance around it for a while. they get married eventually, and - against her better judgment - minkowski agrees to be both eiffel's best man and hera's maid of honor. and ends up taking on way too much of the wedding planning, even though she said she wouldn't, because they're both super lax about it and it starts stressing her out. she tries to delegate to lovelace, but lovelace just thinks it's all really funny. eiffel gets married in a novelty tuxedo tee and minkowski apologizes to hera, but hera knows the type of guy she's marrying (and isn't concerned about tradition anyway) so it doesn't bother her.

[brittie-frog]

I want to scream about Empanada so much!!!

I've read all the twitter theory threads about her being the eldest and having to put on that strong front and pretend she's fine to protect her siblings on egg island and thats why she acts the way she does with new people and why Sunny and Pepito look up to her so much. Now she's in a new place with 4 mums that say they love and care for her and that this new island is meant to be safe but there's this new enemy they're all stressing about and she's still keeping up that strong front so Sunny doesn't panic and still feels safe. And then when it may have finally come to an end one of her mums is there unlike every other time @v@ has been but its a mum who has a second kid and Em believes that Richas is in need of support more since its his dad so she continues to act fine. It's Sunny that steps up and has to ask Tubbo where Bagi is and stares at her until she comes over because Em wants to act like she's okay with everything and give that space to Richas and Bagi to talk.

And Bagi's new to being a parent, nevermind of two, and doesn't understand what she's doing because Em won't talk about it. It's the sibling angst where they're gonna have to have a sit down talk separately and no side is wrong they all have trauma.

[spaceratprodigy]

the tiny metronome in my brain aggressively ticking back and forth between wanting to make cap and max fluff or cap and max angst

[kuiinncedes]

hehe actually gonna reread candymakers sequel 🥰🥰

[angelicstalker]

I just want to make her feel seen.

[bi-writes]

his phone is ringing. he's startled, because no one calls him. he doesn't think anyone even has his number. when he flips it over, it's just a mess of digits, but the area code is familiar. (18+, kinda dark, mw3 spoilers)

he's curious. too curious. he has to answer it, even if he knows he won't respond. he needs to hear someone's voice because the ones in his head are clawing at the inside of his skull, and he needs to ward them off, even if just for a minute.

he picks it up. and he waits for the greeting.

"h...h-hello?"

it's a soft voice. a woman's voice. he frowns, but he says nothing. there's a gentle sniffle on the other end, and then she talks again, a bit shakier this time.

"h-he...he said you might be like this," she whispers. "said...said you might not talk. but...he said you would answer. said you'd always answer."

his head snaps up. suddenly, he's sitting up straight, at attention, and he squeezes his free hand into a fist and nearly punctures the skin with his blunt fingernails. something sharp hits his chest, and his heart drops into his stomach. he tastes acid.

i guess he was right all along. johnny had a bird. and he left her behind, too.

"i-i...i can't--" you stutter, sucking in a shaking breath, and ghost grunts, biting his tongue, wanting to taste blood. every time he thinks he has found his center, something throws him off. the jingle of his dog tags in the bedside table's drawer. the flash of blue in someone's eyes only to realize it isn't him, he's fucking gone, he's dead and so am i.

the sound of his bonnie lass, soft and sweet as she cries into the phone.

the line cuts. you drop the phone, covering your face with your hands, and you sob into your palms. you haven't moved from this place on your couch. everything reminds you of something that once was, and when you found the number on the back of a worn picture tucked neatly into his bible, you called because he told you if you needed him, he would answer.

it's past midnight when the door opens. you're still in the same place, strewn about the cushions where you've been for days, you think. you turn your head, and he nearly has to duck his head to come into your space. when he steps into the moonlight, you see the skeleton mouth of his mask, and you just blink, watching him come closer.

johnny always told you that if something happened, ghost, simon, whatever the fuck he would be calling himself when he would inevitably show up, that he would support you. but you didn't know how. you didn't think to ask, because johnny was all smiles and warm glows, and ghost is a dark cloud that threatens what grows.

but johnny was right.

he supports you when you climb up over him, settling down with your thighs around his head. he supports you when you bend, dragging your warm cunt over the flat of his tongue and chasing the high that you've missed for so long. and he supports you when you cum, scarred cheeks hollowing as he sucks at the skin of your thighs, following the trails of slick that drip from you, letting it guide him right back to where he belongs, inside of you, around you, making you forget what's missing.

yeah. johnny's always right.

[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.

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“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

[agents-are-dicks]

God what I’d give to be piled up in my aunts bed, in my strawberry shortcake nightgown, staying up way too late watching reruns of The Nanny again

Unplanned rant in tags but I’m leaving it. I’ll probably delete this tomorrow.