#and ghost files is coming back soon

[thebeetleboy]

you bitches got me back into my hannibal obsessions. ill never forgive you

[dawnwriterimagines]

Traitors among us

Simon 'GHOST' Riley x Fem!Reader Task Force 141 x Fem!Reader (Platonic)

PART 2

Part Three: The Guilty Plea

Part Four: The Verdict Due

Summary: You're a rat, a traitor. At least that's what Task Force 141 believes due to the evidence and claims scattered against you. It doesn't matter what you say, everyone's against you, ready to end you for it...until the truth comes out.

Warning(s): Torture, Heavy Angst, etc.

If you liked this would you Buy my a Coffee?

---

Drip.

Drip..

Drip...

Your shoulders seize up involuntarily as freezing droplets continue to hit your skin, eyes squeezed shut to try to ignore the sound that had been going on for who knows how long.

Another drop of water hits your spine from the faucet placed above you, it's cold as it runs down your bare skin. It feels like ice. Hitting the same spot over and over and over...

Drip...

Not even able to take a deep breath, you release a strained cry, it can hardly leave you, not that you hadn't cried enough already. You could feel the dried blood, tears and snot still on your face and a testament to your torment. You haven't been able to get the metallic taste of your blood of of your mouth since you got in here.

You breathe slowly, trying to relieve the pain in your chest. Body positioned downwards, chest pressed down to your knees, a leather buckle holds you down and over a metal stool. Wrists torn open by old shackles and stretched upwards to connect to the steel pipe in the middle of the room.

The stress position had been Johnny's idea, putting you in it to begin with. The bastard...

Kyle had been in and out to collaborate with Price on the interrogation, he didn't have the heart to do you any harm like his Captain. But, that didn't stop him from stomaching your screams as he turned the handle up, piercing cold crashing down atop you, it beats down on your back, by the time it's done your shaking, and your skin a bruising purple hue. It goes on like that for hours, even as you beg. He reads you the files again.

Price would then take the baton from the corner of the room, the side of your face already swollen from the last strike, you were seeing red out of your left eye and soon you wouldn't be able to see out of it if the swelling continued.

"Please..." you shivered, miserably.

"Over in a jiff, love, but i need somethin' from you, you know that." Was his reply, he tapped the baton against the metal below you, the reverb makes you jump each time, leaving you to stare at it as you watched his boots walk around you.

"Cap'n, It's not...It's not--me..." you tried, breathless. "I'd never.."

The steel baton came down on your shoulder, first. There was an immediate response from your constricted muscles, limbs that had all tensed up at once despite their numbness. Pulling at the shackles that kept you in place, the hit shocks you, nearly silencing you completely, it hurts, then it burns. Mouth open in a silent scream, you squeeze your eyes shut in an effort to block out the pain that crawled through your shoulder. "It's not me!"

You've been suffering from hypothermia for a few days since then. Your shoulder crushed right out of place or just plain broken, you weren't sure. It's not like you could feel much of your arms in this position.

It hurt. Not just the painful strain that this position was currently putting on your muscles, but everything else...

Of course, you've handled torture alike this before. Captured and tortured by enemies, ransomed for pay and fought tooth and nail to live, then found your way from that hell...only for the men who you'd kill for, to do the same thing to you with no remorse.

In the quiet of the empty room, you sobbed in agony. Squeezing your fists, but you couldn't even feel them, as far as you knew your fingers could only twitch in response to your demand.

You weren't sure what you were doing here.

Well, you knew. There was a mole, all evidence pointing to you, whatever it was had completely stunted their mission earlier in the week, left them hiding in a safe house for days until they were picked up by evac. Apparently, you'd leaked mission details to some hostiles over seas, you weren't sure which ones, they were hoping you could tell them. You had absolutely nothing, lost.

Of course, they didn't believe you. Although you expected to have at least a sliver of trust, someone to speak up against these claims and believe you...

It must've been too much to ask.

It came out of nowhere, at first you had been in bed with Simon, your fucking Fiancé, then that meeting with Price, then just...they'd cornered you in that room. Knocked you out without even an explanation, woke you up strapped down, confused, stripped of your uniform and feral as you demanded answers. Nobody listened to you.

That first night you thought you were gonna die. The second night you thought you had. The third night you were just convinced this was your hell.

You were soaked to the bone, and unable to stop shivering. The only sound you could hear was your own chattering teeth in this never-ending void of darkness.

It was so fucking dark in here, your eyes darting around to every corner, hoping for even a measly crack of light that your eyes could adjust to. Every sound, scratch, scrape or click made you jump, you couldn't see shit in here, so just about everything made you hyper aware. You couldn't help your anxiety as the sound of the faucet, the constant drops against your spine, the jingle of your shackles and the whimpers that echoed against the walls as you struggled to comfortably breathe. Maybe it was the thought of a mouse crawling up the stool and along your skin, or someone in here just staring at you in the corner, or the door finally opening for Price to start slicing into you demanding answers you didn't have.

You were on the cusp of losing your mind. If you hadn't already.

But it's been a few hours since then...

Maybe even a few days...

It could even have been a week.

You weren't too sure.

Simon had been the last one in here. He'd pulled the strap loose around your neck, hauling you up to an upright position by your jaw, eliciting a whimper from your lips. Able to breathe a bit easier, your lungs finally decompressing and you gulp down air greedily, "Simon..." this had been the first time you'd seen him since. He wears his balaclava, he is Ghost, not your Simon Riley.

As your bloodshot, swollen eyes raise to look into his cold ones, so unfeeling. You hadn't even realized you were so hopeful for his trust in you until then, looking at you like you were absolutely nothing to him, the same look he always had before pulling the trigger. "Simon, please, stop this..." your words slurred by your shivering, exhausted. "You know me...please."

Your tears slide over the leather of his gloved hands, while he holds tight to your face and cuts your pleads short with a painful squeeze. "Shut up," he says. His eyes are blank, but his voice is low and seething. "Shut the fuck up!" Simon harshly grits out to you, jostling you harshly. You squeeze your eyes shut, weeping miserably, throat closing up to your agony.

He had to know that you would've never done this to him. He should've known that. Given you the benefit of the doubt at least. You'd have never done this to him...

"I'm sorr-" you try, he squeezes harder to silence you swiftly, and snatches a tiny bowl off the tray he'd brought in. Raising your jaw a bit higher, he pours down a chunky broth into your mouth, letting it all just fall down to your throat. It's disgusting. He doesn't ease up for even a second as you toss and turn your head to breathe.

"Don't say a fucking word," he seethes, his hand enveloping your neck and keeping your head raised upward. "As if I should believe you..."

He then takes the next cup to do the same, your eyes bloodshot wide and you jerk away from him as you choke, unable to stomach anything, but he doesn't let you. This time you inhale accidentally, blocking your airway, eyes watering as you writhe for oxygen, your shackles clang violently as you attempt to retaliate, the first fight you've put up in days. His grip doesn't let up, even as you struggle and start to vomit up whatever he decided to shove down your throat.

When he finally lets go, you curve over and heave up whatever's left in your mouth, hyperventilating as you empty your guts on the floor. Hacking up whatever you can, it hurts, your throat burning from the sobs that leave you in between coughs. "If you love me, if you--ever had--" you spat at him. You'd given him everything, every part of yourself, nearly given him your life in the battlefield, and yet...it wasn't enough. "You would fucking believe me!" your voice cracks with the effort it takes to scream at him, to curse him to hell.

"My trust? That's what you want," Hollow eyes stare back at you, his attention flickering around to the uncomfortable shift of your shoulders in those cuffs. Your swollen left eye that had been hit so hard, the white of it had filled with blood. The black and blue littering your sides and your spine, the loss of color in your skin from the stress position and the cold that had you uncontrollably shivering. "You've had it before. You must've sold that to them too."

Your head drops to the stool again, releasing a heavy breath. "It wasn't worth much, if it was so easy to lose..."

Usually it's not very easy to set Simon off, you've known him always to be quite mellow, besides the barely concealed rage he had settled in his chest since you've known him. But, today, you were an exception.

Fisting a hand in your hair, Simon yanks at it, pulling you upwards for your to face him. His other hand coming up to wrap around your throat before your tortured scream can even manifest. In that moment, it feels as if he'd snapped your spine in half, having not used the muscles to stretch that area in over a week. Your shackled wrists shifting in the cruel position.

His eyes are wild and rageful, the balaclava that covers him twists just the same, his grip very telling to his violence as he squeezes down any chance at air or even a sentence. "Easy to lose..." he repeats, spitting in your face as he strangles you. "Easy t'lose your life! If you don't tell me the fucking truth," he pulls out the knife you'd seen him slit so many throats with before, you hear the familiar sound of it first then its cold steel pressing into the side of your ribs. "I'm gonna carve out your heart, and I'll take it real slow, let you feel every little thing I do to you in here," he shakes you harshly as a startled cry escapes you, your tears are burning hot against your cheeks. "You don't get to cry. Or whine. Or beg!"

"Stop--" you try to squirm away from him, to get as far away as possible, from this place, from this moment.

"Just tell me the truth," Simon's face twisted in agony, for just a second, his thumb drags along your jaw, meaningfully. "You'd be doing us both a favor..."

As his vast hand finally loosed around your neck just enough to hold you up, awaiting the bitter truth. Simon's knife catches on the protrusion of your ribs, nicking the skin, drawing blood on purpose. You stare up at the ceiling, the flickering old lights, the dripping faucet that's tormented your already fragile state for weeks now. "The truth..." you spoke, hoarsely. "You've all shown me...it doesn't matter to you. If it ever... Believe what you want--" you close your eyes, you're exhausted. Sleep had evaded you for days. "You and your truth and this team, you can all go to hell."

And finally he lets you go, letting your fall forwards, unable to find the relief of a cold floor but back to the strenuous position you'd been placed in. "AH!" nearly popping your shoulders out of place, or maybe they had, you bite down on your tongue, shaking in silence.

If you could see Simon's face, you could've relished in the uncertainty flickering in his eyes, the sudden doubt that led his knife back in its holder and his nails to bite into the flesh of his palms. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing leaves him, instead he stands there.

You can't say a thing to him now, everything that's happened was just a little reminder that whatever you said, whatever you did, it didn't matter. Their minds had already been made. You really would die here.

Simon stands there a little longer, he doesn't say anything, you're not sure if he stays there to watch your suffering a little longer or to wait to say another heart-wrenching thing. Maybe he's just there to wait for you to die. But, he just watches as you wretch and cry in a ball atop that stool.

He leaves not long after, he didn't bother to strap you down this time. He left the old light on, but it must've been older than you thought.

The single bulb fizzled out completely hours ago. Not unless one of them decided to cut the silence and turn on the light to start another 'questioning', so suddenly being able to see more than darkness wasn't anything to be excited about.

They'd leave you in the dark until then, to await the next moment any of them would grace you with their presence.

To be honest, you'd imagined you'd be stronger than this. But, there was nothing to hold onto, so what did strength matter?

It was too late anyway.

They'd broken you days ago.

---

The truth had come out, two days later.

"Oh god..."

"Oh my fucking God," Simon rushed down the corridor, Price tailing right behind him. "Oh my God!" his normal monotone voice now a mess of fear and panic, breathing harsher, on the cusp of hyperventilating with every stride as he ran faster than he ever had in his life.

Finally getting to the interrogation wing of the department, he bangs his fist on the plexiglass of those silently monitoring the rooms, "Open the fucking door!" he's buzzed in before he can pull on the handle another time.

Rushing down the hall to the now green lit room, lights flickering to life with every step closer down the hall of empty rooms. He nearly rips the door off its hinges as he bursts inside, the lights of the your tiny prison don't come to life as they should. Light spilling into the cell, to hit your limp figure first.

He doesn't deserve to say your name. "(Y/n)," Simon rushes over, to his knees instantly. A puddle of vomit, water and spoiled broth soaks through his uniform.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry," he sobs out his mistakes, unhooking your chains and cutting through your buckles as fast as he could. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" he catches his fiancé as you collapse, turning over and off the stool, your legs having lost all sense of feeling. You fall into his arms, catching you carefully. "Price!" he cries out, desperately.

"They're on the way!" Your captain assures, he sees the medical team rushing down the hallway, a stretcher, a box of medical supplies. Christ.

You're freezing to the touch, your skin a hue of blue, not to mention the bruises, the cuts and the swollen areas throughout your face and spine. You suddenly inhale, sharply, coughing terribly. You're sick, breathing shakily, "Simon...?" you breathe, confused. You can't see. Your eyes swollen shut from your torture at their hands.

"It's me, it's me," Simon assured, although he knew it probably brought you no comfort. He snatches the blanket offered up by Price, your captain a mess of himself, holding himself together at the doorway, nails biting into the steel.

As Simon wraps you in the first glimpse of warmth you've had in days, you ease up a bit, fingers twitching upwards to pull the threads closer around yourself. "It wasn't..." you shiver, Simon listens intently as he rises with you in his arms, running off to meet the medical team halfway. "It wasn't me..." you gasp out. "It wasn't..."

Simon can't say a thing as he hears your tormented voice stutter in fear of him, lips pressed tight together, heart sinking and as the nurses take your body, he collapses to his knees.

Part 2

[bi-writes]

cw: protective!ghost, allusions to civilian!reader being (physically) assaulted at work (18+)

"l-lieutenant?"

ghost is nearly startled by the little voice that practically squeaks behind him. he's been huddled in his office for too long, driving himself mad with paperwork and sergeants too stupid for their own good. he blinks, turning around, and he blinks when he sees you there in the doorway, hands shaking as you try and collect yourself.

when he looks carefully under the fluorescent lights, he can see there are tears in your eyes. it's then that he notices how you look, really look. there's a bruise blossoming on your jaw, the skin swelling a bit where there's a cut on your lip. your shirt is askew, and you're panting and sweating, like you've been running. he's never seen you this way. fuck, he barely sees you at all, except when he goes out during drills, and he's only ever spoken to you once or twice, just to receive some papers or to excuse himself as he tries to get around you in a crowded hallway. you are always quiet, always shy, smiling at him if you are near and trying to keep out of the way.

he doesn't know why it enrages him to see you in this state, but it does.

"the fuck happened t'ya?" he rasps, and he realizes it comes out harsher than he means. he isn't used to being nice.

the slamming of a door against a wall keeps you from answering. just like that, you're moving, about to scramble away, run, when ghost reaches out and grabs your wrist. he tugs you towards him, just quick enough that whoever is coming for you skids into the doorway.

it's a sergeant he recognizes. cocky, full of shit, who never hits his target. he's big, but not as big as ghost. he pauses when he realizes where you are and who you're with, skidding backwards as he tries to contain his anger.

"wot the fuck is goin' on?" ghost snaps, and you sputter, not able to make out your words properly.

"'m sorry, lieutenant," the sergeant huffs. "i'll take care of this."

when he lunges for you, ghost shoves you behind him, tilting his head to the side as he stares down at the little shit.

"did i fuckin' tell ya t'move?" ghost growls. "this how ya answer ta y'r superior, you fuckin' knob?"

"no," he spits back, but his eyes flash when ghost puts a gloved hand against his chest and pushes him back far enough to put appropriate distance between them.

"did y'hit this civilian?" ghost asks, a humorless laugh leaving him. when the sergeant doesn't respond, ghost turns finally, looking at you, and he clicks his tongue to get your eyes on him. "did he put his hands on ya?"

you tremble a little, moving the back of your hand over your eyes before nodding. you don't really register what happens next. you see blood on the tips of your kitten heels one moment, and you cover your eyes the next.

in the bathroom later that evening, ghost is careful as he dabs at your lip gently with a cool cloth. he has taken the gloves off (they were soaked with blood), and you try not to shiver as he holds your face with one big hand and cleans you up with the other. you can see the shadow of tattoos peeking out from under his sleeve.

"why'd y'come t'me?" he asks after a few minutes. you blink up at him, swallowing hard, and he stands back a little to get a better look at you.

"i've read your file," you whisper, looking down, a bit ashamed. "i just thought...you'd understand."

or maybe you wondered what he would do if he found out.

he hums a little, and you miss the feeling of his touch as soon as he lets go of you, washing his hands at the sink. you fixate on his stature, his size. the thick of his thighs, how the holsters there bulge and stretch to try and hold onto him.

just as he starts to leave, you stand from your seat, making your way to him. he hears you, stopping, and you hold onto his bicep gently as you get on your toes to kiss his cheek. he flinches a little, but he relaxes finally, leaning in for you to kiss him there again. when your eyes meet again, you think you see something there.

he kicks the door closed with his boot, trapping you in the room with him. you smile when the lock clicks.

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141 (pt. 4)

You thought it was a mistake when someone called in reserving a party of 14 for a birthday. The voice on the other line assures you it is not, and that they'll be arriving at 7pm. You inform everyone.

"Who wid want a birthday in this shithole?"

Johnny gaffaued, spraying down some dishes.

"Probably just a prank call."

Kyle replied, arms wrapped around your waist and head resting on your shoulders. But it wasn't a prank call. The first half of the party arrive and you and Gaz have to scramble to push tables together. It's overwhelming, everyone is talking all at once, demanding things left and right. Gaz swoops in to help deal with one half the table while you the other. The food comes out, leaving you to be able to sit in the back for a few minutes, talking to the guys about nothing. Walking back out, some older man was snapping his fingers at you, waving his arms as if they weren't the only fucking people in the joint.

"Steaks burnt to hell, remake it."

He slides the plate to you, making you catch it before it falls off the side of the table. You apologize profusely and send it back to the kitchen. Price raises an eyebrow,

"Looks fine to me."

He stares at the piece of charcoal on the plate.

"Fucks sake, lemme do it."

Simon grabs his shoulder and cooks another steak. You set it down infront of the old man, watching him take a bite. He throws his fork down,

"Still burnt. How hard is it to cook a fucking steak?"

You look at the plate, meats still pink in the middle. Apologize again and offer to remake it.

"No, don't bother. Jesus."

He stares daggers into you. You wring your hands nervously.

"Actually, everyone's food was shit. None of us should have to pay for this."

Your mouth goes dry. You look over your shoulder to meet eyes with Kyle at the bar. He immediately walks over.

"Everything alright?"

He puts on his nicest customer service voice and that charming smile that can melt anyone. Except this asshole apparently.

"No everything is not alright, this was the worst dining experience I've ever had! Everything came out wrong, and it all tastes like shit!"

Spit flies out from the mans mouth. Kyle stands between you and the customer, trying to diffuse the situation. And much to your horror, one by one, the table starts to leave. You try to say something but they ignore you.

"Go get Johnny."

You run back, trying to act casual in front of Simon and John while tugging Johnny by the sleeve. He looks down, concerned.

He's on the floor before you can finish telling him what happened,

"Ye'r gonnae have tae pay sir."

His tone is more firm than Gaz, arms crossed and looking down at the old man. You're almost in tears as you watch more of the table file out the door, you turn back to look at Gaz. He frowns, furious. There's a heated argument at the table, the old man is yelling now. Not at Kyle or Johnny, but the only person he wasn't afraid of; you. The commotion makes John and Simon step out. This idiot is gonna get himself killed. You can see the moment when the customer loses the fight in his eyes. Shuts right up as soon as Simon says,

"Problem?"

Like a fish out of water, all the old man does is open and close his mouth wordlessly.

"Grab the cheque."

You don't know who Simon said that to but you and Soap crash into each other turning around and walking to the POS system. Ghost gently grabs the bill from your shaky hands and shoves it into the customers chest,

"Cash only."

"I don't have cash."

"There's an ATM around the corner."

The old man nearly jumps out of his seat,

"Right. Be right back."

He rushes to the door, Kyle and John follow.

"Oh there's no need-"

"Making sure you don't get lost."

Kyle smiles, eyes dangerous. It's about five minutes when they're back, the old man placing some 20s down before complaining under his breath. Then he gets kicked out,

"I need my change!"

He looks over Johnny's shoulder, looking to you for help. You shrug, arms crossed. When the door closes you sigh, running fingers through your hair

"You alright, darling?"

Gaz asks, voice as sweet as ever, gentle hand on your face. You nod.

~

That evening was pleasant. More than that really. They pampered you, cooed and soothed you as you huffed and sniffled. Ran you a hot bath,

"Poor thing, dinnae deserve tha."

Johnny massaged shampoo into your hair.

"Won't let you stay around next time we deal with something like that again."

Kyle kneaded the tension out your shoulders. John sat you in his lap, brushing hair out of your face while saying sweet nothings. You really do enjoy milking this for all it's worth, sad eyes looking up and huffing like you didn't get over that bullshit as soon as that old man walked out the door.

"Pampered little princess, you know that?"

Simon's lips are pressed up to your neck, just under your ear. You just nod, his words rattling around your brain while you got fucked senseless. You're tired, but the boys promised to coax an orgasm out of you. From each one of them. Then another. Well, you're a trooper, so what's one more round? Showered with soft kisses and praise, a foolish smile is painted across your face in a pleasurable state of stupor; Gosh, aren't you just spoiled rotten?

**sorry if it's short! I am on holiday ( ╥ω╥ )**

[kelpiemomma]

Really wish I could let myself cry. Gonna have a soak in the shower and rotate Khan around in my head instead.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Their child calls their emergency line (Dad fluff)

Anon! This idea is so so cute! Don't mind me, I'm just giggling like an idiot over here. I adore imagining these guys as dads, and this prompt is completely indulging me. Thank you so much for sending this in! I had a lot of fun with this one. Enjoy!!

Presented in four drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Content & Warnings: brief swearing, mostly fluff

Word Count: 400

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it. And the phones goes off again.

While Price, Gaz, and Soap all continue their conversation, Simon takes his phone out of his pocket and walks a few paces away.

He glances at the screen and sees his youngest daughter’s name on the screen. It’s their emergency line. Simon answers immediately and brings the phone up to his ear.

“Everything good, baby girl?”

“Can you help me with my math homework?”

Simon sighs. “So there isn’t an emergency?”

“Yes. The emergency is my math homework,” she replies plainly.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny is working late. Really fucking late. He promised Price he’d look at the reports before they’re sent off in the morning. Details are important. Things can’t be overlooked.

His phone buzzes on the desk.

“Hello?” he answers without looking at the name.

“Daddy?”

Johnny immediately straightens, the reports forgotten. It’s his eldest daughter.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

She pauses. “Can you come pick me up?”

Johnny is already out of his chair and grabbing his coat before his daughter finishes the sentence.

“Where are you?”

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs.

“Don’t worry about it, love. Tell me where you are.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Daddy?”

“What is it, baby girl?”

Kyle straightens at the slight tremor in his daughter’s tone. She rarely—if ever—calls him at work. And she knows it’s for emergency purposes only.

“Everything all right?” he asks after a beat.

She sighs. “Could—I—”

“What’s wrong?” he prompts, suddenly nervous.

“Are you leaving work soon?”

Kyle checks his watch. “In about an hour. What do you need?” His daughter mumbles something on the other end. “What’s that, love?”

“Can you grab tampons?” she asks in a rush.

Kyle holds back a laugh. Everything is fine.

“Of course, baby girl.”

John Price

John pinches the bridge of his nose. The file folder before him is just a blur of color.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. John fishes it out. Home, it says.

Frowning, he answers. “Hello?”

“Daddy?”

It’s his youngest, a boy of only six. “Why are you whispering?”

“I don’t want mum to hear me.”

“Why?”

“I want to surprise her.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“Can you get her a gift?”

“Of course, bud. I’ll grab something on the way home.”

“Thank you!” he shrieks, hanging up abruptly.

John snorts and stares down at the blank screen, shaking his head.

taglist:

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[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 2 - Adjustments

Summary: You're struggling a bit in your adjustment to your new life, and you're finding some of them are easier to get along with than others. Luckily you're not in it alone.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Author's Note: I'm so just overwhelmed with the attention this fic has gotten, but not in a bad way I promise! I'm just surprised is all. Thank you everyone that has read and reblogged and commented. I love all of you and so, since I have no self control, here is Chapter 2. Lots more world building and dialogue in this part, but I promise good stuff is coming.

Also I promise Soap will get his time soon. He's just the hardest for me to write, and you'll see why in this chapter.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“She was lying.” 

Price doesn’t bother looking up as a dark figure leans against the wall next to him. He stares out at the empty space between the barracks and the mess hall, not much traffic between the buildings during this time of day. 

“About how she got to the institute.” 

“Or at least not telling the whole truth.” Price says, turning to look at Simon. “Something tells me she’d talk if we asked.” 

“She’s soft.” Simon says, letting his gaze drift off into the distance. 

“She’s a civilian.” Price counters. “The CIA did a little training, but she’ll need some work. We can’t leave her completely defenseless...” 

Simon turns to face him again. “There’s something else.” 

Price pushes himself off the wall, heading back inside. Simon follows, the two of them making their way down the hall to his office. “There’s hundreds of American military bases across the world, thousands of regiments they could have chosen from, and yet, they sent her to us.” 

Simon closes the door behind him as Price sinks into his desk chair. “You think it was deliberate?” 

Price pulls open one of the drawers, pulling out the file Kate had given him. “Laswell said the CIA has had eyes on her for years.” He slides it across his desk to Simon. “There’s a lot of why's in this situation, and a lot of how’s. Like, if what she’s saying is true, how did a Staff Sergeant get his daughter into FIOT practically overnight?” 

Simon glances up at him over the top of the file. “You think there’s something else going on with this Initiative.” 

Price nods. “I do. I think there’s more than one experiment being run, and we’re the guinea pigs.” 

You stare at your reflection in the mirror as you run a comb through your damp hair. You look tired, the dark circles that have plagued your face for the last few weeks looking even darker now. It’s been a long day, so long it’s hard to believe it’s only been a matter of hours since you boarded the helicopter in London. 

Your new pack had made themselves scarce after dinner, leaving you to your own devices. You had been left alone after lunch too, and you had spent that time laying in bed, resting after the overwhelming scenting. 

You’d played back the last few hours in your mind. Leaving London in the helicopter, meeting your new Pack Alpha, Laswell leaving, meeting your new pack, the scenting. You had plenty to think about, to stress over, and you had been surprised when the knock came at your door for dinner. You were equally surprised to see Gaz and Soap waiting for you. 

You’d been sandwiched between them again as you walked to the mess. It was busier for dinner, and the eyes weren’t quite so quick to look away with the alphas missing. You know they have to be curious, with an omega on base following around two members of a SpecOps team, smelling like them. You know what they were probably thinking of you, what they were thinking your presence means. 

You’ve begun to understand Price’s rules a bit more. 

Price and Ghost had joined you as Soap said they would, coming in late from whatever they had been busy doing. You had been seated next to Soap, Ghost taking his other side while Price sat next to Gaz. It hadn’t gone unnoticed to you how close Soap and Ghost sat, and you remembered the look in Ghost’s eyes when Soap had approached to scent you. How his defensive stare had turned icy, threatening even, when he’d gotten close to you as if you were capable of hurting Soap. It had been a silent warning. If you tried anything, you’d have him to contend with. 

Ghost is territorial, more so than most alphas. You had seen it just a bit in Price, but only because you had been watching for it. Ghost was silent in his claim, but his gaze spoke of his territorialism. As you sat at the table with them, you slowly felt the stares lessen, the curious alphas and betas around you slowly turning away from your table until you were left in peace. You knew it was all thanks to a well-pointed glare from the second alpha at the table. 

They’d escorted you back to the barracks before disappearing again, leaving you alone. You’d opted for a shower to try and clear your head, exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs but your mind was racing too much to really get any rest. You haven’t been told what their normal schedules entail or even what they look like, but you expect an early morning tomorrow. Since Price had said at least one of them needed to escort you around base, that likely meant you were going to be constrained to their schedules. 

You know even when they’re not away, their days are probably full of training and briefings, much like yours had been for three months. They’re probably up early, earlier than you’d like to be, and then they go non-stop all day. 

You wonder if they ever get a break. 

Maybe this is a break for them. 

You sit on the edge of the bed after you finish your routine, eyeing the pillows and blankets stacked at the end. They’re military issue, not as soft or as plush as you might have preferred. This is your new normal, though. Comfort isn’t exactly going to be a high priority. 

Tears prick your eyes as you run your hand over the comforter. You know it’s the exhaustion, the stress of the day beginning to weigh on you. You’re worn out, and that’s causing a slip in the tight reins you keep on your mood. Omegas and alphas were both prone to being moody, and those who were unrestrained could lose control quickly. Alphas were quick to anger, while omegas could get depressed very easily. Exhaustion drives both to being grumpy, though alphas will descend into irritability and anger, while omegas will get whiny and weepy. 

You hate it, how easily you can be driven to cry. How easily you can lose control. It makes you feel weak and helpless, but that’s partially by design. It was supposed to be your pack’s job to fix that, to give you that support and take care of you. 

Except you don’t know your pack. 

What would they do if you approached them like this, all teary and needy? Would instinct take over and snap them into their roles? Or would they give you an awkward pat on the back and leave you to take care of yourself? Gaz would help you, you think. He had slipped into that role so easily during the scenting. Your fingers twitch on the bedspread, your mind telling you to seek him out, track him down, even if it’s only to catch a whiff of his scent again.  

Your phone screen lights up where it’s sitting on the nightstand, drawing your attention from the door. Kate had given you the phone just this morning before you left the hotel. It had her number on it, as well as your pack’s. You’d half expected to find messages already from them when you’d turned it on, but there had been none. They had kept that boundary of meeting in person first. 

You pick up the phone, checking the message. It’s from Price. 

Breakfast is at 0700. I’ll take you to see the Omega Specialist after. 

Seven o’clock. It’s not terribly early. You’d eaten around the same time at the institute. You’ll get to meet the Omega Specialist as well tomorrow. You’ve met plenty of them in your time as an omega, but something about the idea of having someone there who knows, who understands is comforting to you. 

You send a reply in acknowledgement for tomorrow’s plan before setting an alarm for tomorrow morning. There’s an uneasy feeling under your skin, a tickling in the back of your mind that you can’t seem to relax. Your eyes are drawn to the desk where the shirts still sit, and before you know it you’re moving to the desk, letting your fingers trail over each one. 

You grab Price’s shirt, taking it back to your bed. You curl up with your back facing the door, holding the shirt against your chest, letting the scent of tobacco smoke and whiskey fill your nose. Silent tears slide down your cheeks, your face pressing into the pillow to muffle your sobs. 

As you try to muffle your tears, you miss the sound of boots pausing in front of your door, the person on the other side standing there for a moment before continuing down the hall. 

You let out a groan as your alarm pulls you from sleep. You had drifted in and out for a few hours before finally managing to get a couple precious hours of sleep. You’d woken when the others got up. You knew they were trying to be quiet but you had heard them shuffling around, talking quietly amongst each other. You’re normally a fairly deep sleeper, but in a new place you always struggle. 

A new place surrounded by almost complete strangers. 

You turn off your alarm, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. They’re burning a bit, the exhaustion still weighing heavy on your shoulders. You pad to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face to try and make yourself at least look more alive than you feel. The last thing you need is them getting worried about you. That’s attention you’re not sure you want right now. 

You blink sleepily at your closet, trying to decide what to wear. Were you allowed to wear anything? You didn’t have much besides the basics, since the only thing you had been allowed to wear at the institute was its uniform and the clothes they provided. Then when you were with the CIA, they had provided clothes for you to wear as well. The things you have now had been bought by Kate before you left D.C. 

Everyone on base wore similar variants of the same uniform. You’re not military, though, so you don’t think those rules apply to you. No one had said anything about your state of dress yesterday. You opt for comfort, knowing you’d likely find out soon if you were going to be forced to dress differently too. 

You’re tying your shoes when the knock sounds on your door. You had heard the others moving around, footsteps in the hallway, opening and closing doors, quiet voices talking and Soap laughing at something. You know it’s one of them, yet the nervous tickle at the back of your head is back. 

Soap is leaning casually against your doorframe when you open the door. His face lights up in a smile as he sees you. “Morning, bonny. Sleep alright?” 

“Yeah.” You shrug. “Tossed and turned for a while.” 

“We didne keep ye up did we?” He asks, his smile faltering just a bit. 

You shake your head. “No, I never sleep well the first few nights in a new place.” 

“Well, our beds are always open if ye need something more comfortable.” He winks at you playfully. 

Your face warms at his words, the double meaning not lost on you. You were right, Soap was going to be the one to push your boundaries the most. 

Gaz elbows him in the ribs as he passes. “She’s been here a day, mate, don’t go scaring her off now.” He leans on the other side of your doorframe, giving you a smile. “Morning.” 

“Morning.” You say, your face still warm from Soap’s teasing. 

“You hungry?” Gaz asks. 

You nod. You do feel hungry this morning, likely a side effect from your emotional night last night. You step out of your room, the two betas stepping back to give you space as you close the door behind you. Ghost is leaning against the wall next to his door, his eyes watching with the typical cautious disinterest that seemed to be his default setting. 

Gaz and Soap sandwich you between them again, close enough their arms brush yours as you walk. It was almost as if they could sense your inner turmoil, the neediness still tugging at the back of your mind. If Ghost hadn’t been trailing the three of you, you might have been tempted to give in and grip their sleeves, or slip your hands into theirs. How would Ghost respond to such a bold move? The mental image of your body flying through the air as he punted you into next week almost makes you laugh. 

Price is already seated at a table frowning at his phone over a cup of coffee. Gaz and Soap load up your tray for you, something you’re getting used to rather quickly. It was expected from the alphas, or at least Price, to coddle you a bit, but it seemed the betas were more than happy to get in on it as well. 

The thought makes something flutter in your chest. 

You’re seated between Gaz and Price again once you reach the table, Price greeting you with a tired smile. “Morning. Sleep alright?” 

“Not really.” You say honestly. “New place and all. I’ll settle in eventually.” 

“Maybe the Omega Specialist can give you some ideas to help.” He glances at his watch before looking at you as you spoon a heaping spoonful of porridge into your mouth. “Take your time. We have until 8.” 

You listen to the conversation at the table as you eat, Gaz and Soap talking about a football game that’s on tonight. You feel eyes on you, your skin prickling a bit. You glance up, half expecting Ghost to be glowering at you again, but his gaze is focused on his eggs. You cast a quick glance around the mess, turning slightly to look behind you. 

Three tables over, you find the gaze of some soldier focused on you. You haven’t paid much attention to anyone else on the base, but then again you haven’t had much time or reason to yet. You can’t read the expression on his face as he stares at you, but you feel a shiver run down your spine as your eyes meet his. 

He stares at you for a few seconds before his gaze moves slightly past you, quickly dropping back to his plate. You turn around, finding Ghost staring just past your head. His eyes are narrowed, his scent coming off stronger than it had been. You can practically see his hackles raised, the warning clear in the air. You feel the urge to curl in on yourself, the threatening aura radiating from him makes you want to cower. 

It doesn't go unnoticed by those at the table either. 

“Easy, Ghost.” Price says calmly, Gaz turning to follow his line of sight. 

“Bloody wanker.” Ghost grumbles before rising from the table. 

You turn back around, but the soldier that had been staring at you is gone. 

You nervously pick at your sweatshirt sleeves as you sit in the plastic chair next to Price. You’re still on edge a bit from what happened at breakfast. It wasn’t so much being stared at that bothered you. After now three meals in the mess, you’ve almost come to expect it. It’s Ghost’s reaction that has your mind still reeling. 

“I’ve always hated the medical center.” Price says with a sigh as he leans his head back against the wall. “It smells too sterile. Makes my nose burn. Reminds me of too many close calls.” 

His words jar you a bit. You hadn’t even thought about that aspect of his job. He’s used to getting shot at, to getting into fights, running head first into danger that would send most running the other way. You wonder how many times he’s been the one with the close call, and how many others he’s had to watch have their own. 

You wonder how many times he’s had to make that trip to tell someone’s family. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts as the door across from you opens. Price pushes himself to his feet, and you follow as a kind looking woman steps out. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief. You don’t have anything against male Omega Specialists, but you were already surrounded by men. Sure you have Kate, but she’s half a world away. 

She’s tall, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Despite being a doctor she’s dressed casually, no white coat or gloves to be seen. Her eyes are light green and crease in the corners when she smiles. 

“Hello, I’m Dr. Keller.” She introduces herself, shaking Price’s hand. 

American. You think, silently breathing another sigh of relief. Kate really had pulled some strings with this one. 

“Captain John Price.” He says. 

You introduce yourself when she turns to you, shaking your hand. Her voice is soft and gentle, the scent of beta coming off her in waves. 

“Come on in,” She says, leading you into the office. “Sit anywhere you like. Make yourselves comfortable.” 

Her office isn’t what you expected either. Instead of the harsh fluorescents, the lighting is softer, warmer. There’s paintings and posters all over the walls, along with several plants. There’s a desk covered in books and paperwork in one corner and a bookshelf with several books packed into it in the other. There’s a couch on one wall, and a couple plush looking chairs on the other. 

You move to one of the chairs, sinking down onto it. It envelops you in softness, and you feel as if you might sink into it and never be able to get out. After a day of hard plastic and stiff blankets, it nearly makes you weep. 

Price takes the chair next to you, Dr. Keller sitting on the couch across from you. The office smells good, a light, neutral scent in the air aside from the pure almondy scent of beta. 

“Alright,” She says, holding a tablet and a stack of files in her lap. “I always like to start by introducing myself and telling you a bit about me, then we’ll get into the important stuff.” 

She jumps into telling you about herself. Where she grew up: California. Where she studied: UC Berkeley. What institute she did her residency at: West Coast Training Academy. Where she worked last before Kate called her in: some poor inner city institute in LA. 

“Now, on to the more important stuff.” She says, turning on the tablet. “I got your medical records yesterday. You’re quite the healthy girl.” 

“Yes ma'am. I have good genes. That’s what my mom used to say.” You respond. 

Dr. Keller smiles. “Hardly even been sick. Your heats are all normal, too, correct?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” You say. “Except for a three month stretch two years ago.” 

“Yes, the heat sickness epidemic that hit America.” She says. 

You nod. “FIOT locked down completely and everyone was supposed to quarantine, but I heard a rumor that it was one of the beta food workers. She snuck out to see her alpha boyfriend and brought it in with her. We only think it was her because she disappeared not long after the first omega got sick.” 

Dr. Keller hums. “I know not everyone was so willing to take it seriously. You made a full recovery, though. No lasting side effects, I’m sure thanks to the state of the art medical facilities that FIOT keeps.” 

“Yes, ma’am. We were lucky it was just a mild case.” 

“That is lucky.” She flips through something on the tablet. “Your lab results all look phenomenal. I like to do checkups monthly, just to ensure everything is working as it should. I know the CIA gave you quite the cocktail of vaccines while you were with them.” She turns her gaze to Price. “Captain Price, I’ve sent in a request for your team’s vaccination records as well. I’m sure you’ve had everything under the sun, but I’d like to ensure there’s no risk of any accidental exposures.” 

“I don’t see a problem with that.” Price says. “If RAMC gives you any trouble, just let me know. I’ll get them for you myself.” 

“Thank you, Captain.” She says. “One last bit in this part and then we can move on. I see FIOT issued an implant before you left, as is standard practice.” 

You nod. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good. You’ve had more than enough time for it to take effect so we won’t have to worry about any accidental slip ups during your next heat.” 

Your cheeks warm at her words a bit. You’ve been trying to avoid thinking about that inevitable side of things. 

“And your next heat is roughly six weeks away.” She says, looking at the calendar. “Don't be surprised if it comes a little earlier now that you’re being exposed to alphas again.” 

Your stomach twists nervously at that thought. It was common for heats to be triggered early after exposure to alphas, especially after such a prolonged period without exposure to them. It wasn’t likely to start tomorrow, but you knew it could jump a week or two due to the natural pheromones alphas put off, and the instinctual call for the alpha/omega bond. 

“You’re planning for the claiming to take place during the heat?” Dr. Keller asks. 

“Yes, that’s the plan.” Price says. 

“That is the most natural time for it.” Dr. Keller says. “Of course, it is always up to omega preference in the end.” 

You don’t miss the way her eyes dart to you for a second. 

“Now that that’s over with,” She says, putting the tablet to the side. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to do this next part with just the two of us.” 

A beat of silence passes before you realize she’s asking you. Her eyes are on you, and so are Price’s. She’s asking you. She’s asking you what you want. 

“I-I guess...yeah.” You stutter over your words, not quite sure how to answer. Is there a wrong answer? Would Price be upset if you said yes? Would Dr. Keller be upset if you said no? Your eyes turn to Price, trying to gauge his reaction. 

“It’s up to you.” He says softly. “We’re here for you.” 

You sit up a little straighter at his words, nodding your head. “Y-Yes. That’s okay.” 

Price pushes himself to stand up. “I’ll be right outside.” 

The air inside the room seems to lighten as he leaves, Dr. Keller reclining back on the couch as the door clicks shut. She pulls out a stack of papers and a pen before she looks at you. Your palms are sweating, and you’re starting to think you’d like the chair to swallow you whole. 

“This next part can feel a bit personal, but I just want you to know that everything you say in here is as confidential as you’d like it to be. Captain Price is right. I am an Omega Specialist, I’m here for you. I’m not just a doctor, I’m here to help you in all aspects of being an omega. I know FIOT teaches a lot, mainly obedience and compliance. I want to make it clear that you can be honest with me.” She holds up the stack of papers. “No one is going to see these papers but me, alright?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” You nod. 

“You don’t have to be so formal with me.” She smiles. “You can call me Dr. Keller, or Doc. You could even call me an evil bitch if you want, it won’t phase me any.” 

You can’t help the small smile that forms on your face. 

“I’ve got some questions I’d like to ask you. They’re a sort of tracker to measure how well you’re settling in and bonding with your new pack. I’d like to meet once a week until your next heat just to see how well you’re settling in. After that we can meet as often as you’d like. Sound good?” 

You nod in approval. It sounds like a lot, but you also know you’re going to have a lot of downtime, even with your pack on base. 

“Alright, let’s get started. How are you settling in? I know it’s barely been a day, but I want to know how you feel here.” 

Your heart begins to pound in your chest. How do you feel here? How do you feel after being pulled from the institute and taken to a training facility where you found out you’d be moving halfway across the world to be a military pack’s omega. 

This wasn’t what you had expected when you reached the age where you became an available omega. Most omegas at FIOT came from rich, powerful, important families and your purpose there was to be groomed into the perfect omega to return right back to that world. 

You thought you would be chosen quickly. You had expected it. With your scores and your high ratings and your status, you were what most alphas dreamed of. Yet, the years had passed and though there was some interest, nothing had ever come of it. You weren’t alone in it. There were others like you, those who excelled at being an omega, but then seemed to stall in the selection once they came of age. 

Of course, now that you look back on it, you can’t help but think it might have been done on purpose. The Omega Initiative was new, you had been told during your first briefing explaining why you were taken to a remote building somewhere outside of D.C. and greeted not by your new pack, but swathes of CIA agents. Military packs were nothing new, but they wanted to utilize the naturally formed packs and make them stronger and more stable by adding in omegas. 

Only highly skilled omegas were considered for the program, but of course you had no say in whether you were going to partake or not. They chose the omegas and they decided where you would end up. 

It wasn’t that dissimilar from being chosen from an Institute. At FIOT there was a screening process packs had to go through to be determined eligible to have access to omega files. Then the pack would have to send a neutral emissary, usually a beta, to meet the omegas in person and choose on behalf of the alpha. Most institutes don’t have that strenuous of a process, and some don’t have a process at all. In some, alphas themselves could walk in and choose an omega without even so much as a background check. 

Omegas never got a say. As soon as you were handed over to an institute, the ability to choose was taken from you. Whoever your caretakers were as a pup signed over their rights to you and the institute became your legal guardian. They dictated your life up until you joined a new pack. 

You had hoped it would be someone rich. If nothing else, you’d get to live a cushy life and you’d never have to worry about anything. When they told you what was really going to happen to you, you had almost cried. You did cry, late at night curled up in your bunk after hours of training and briefings. 

Kate picked you for this pack specifically because she knew them and she knew you could handle them and their world. 

Maybe if you had been worse at being an omega, things would have been better for you. 

Or maybe they would have been worse. 

“It’s...different.” You finally say, picking at your sleeves again. “But in a lot of ways, it’s similar to The Institute. It always takes me time to settle somewhere new.” 

“Me too.” Dr. Keller says, writing some things down. “And with the time change, it’s just so much harder. I feel like I should be in bed right now, but it’s 8 AM. Have you started nesting?” 

You shake your head. “No. I don’t even feel the urge to.” 

“That’s fine.” She says, writing something else down. “In truth, I’d be more concerned if you were.” 

Your eyebrows raise a bit. “Why?” 

“During an adjustment period for an omega, especially in a new pack, there can be something that happens called false instincts. The sudden urge to nest, a drive to bond with pack members too soon, false heats. It’s usually brought on by a sudden change in environment, like when omegas are taken from a place where they’ve spent sometimes years with no exposure to alphas and are suddenly thrown into a space with a lot of alphas. It’s more common in larger packs where you have alphas, betas, and other omegas.” 

“Could it happen in smaller packs?” You ask. 

“It’s possible, though rare. It can cause some serious issues down the line when those instincts are actually supposed to begin to show up, like adjustment sickness. I’d say if you’re starting to feel the urge to nest or bond before the first week is up, then come talk to me, alright?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” You nod. 

She smiles, turning the page. “How far have you gotten with the bonding process?” 

“Just the scenting yesterday.” You answer. 

“And how did that go?” 

You pick at the loose thread on your sweatshirt. “Fine. It was...overwhelming.” 

“They can be.” Dr. Keller says. “The new members of your pack, how are you getting along with them?” 

“Fine, I guess.” You shrug. “I like Soap and Gaz. Price, he’s...he’s nice, and Ghost...” You trail off, not sure how to answer. If she’d asked before breakfast you might have said he doesn't like you. He doesn’t want you to be part of his pack, but after what happened at breakfast...

You can’t be sure he did it for you. He could have thought that soldier was staring at Soap or Gaz or even Price. He could have thought the soldier was staring at him and was annoyed with it. He had scared off the stares at every meal you’d eaten together, but how often did they get stared at? You couldn’t know if that was a daily occurrence and he was just growing sick of it. 

He could be annoyed with you because you’re drawing in the stares. 

“I don’t know what to think about him yet.” You answer. 

She writes something else down, going through a few more questions with you. How is your appetite? How are you sleeping? Are you taking care of your needs? Do you have any concerns? 

Before you know it the hour has passed and you’re walking out the door into the fluorescent, sterile hallway of the medical center. 

“Remember, you have my number. If you need anything, I’m here for you.” Dr. Keller says as you part ways. 

You walk with Price out of the medical center, glad to be out in the fresh air. It’s not particularly warm, and the sun is hidden behind a layer of clouds, but it’s better than the medical center. 

“What do you think?” Price asks as you follow him back to the barracks. 

“I think it went well.” You say, mind still reeling from an eventful morning. You’re beginning to feel your restless night. 

“Do you like Dr. Keller?” He asks, probing a bit. 

You nod. “Yes, sir. She’s nice.” 

“Good.” He says, opening the door to the barracks for you. “I have to leave to oversee training for the next few hours.” He glances at his watch. “One of us will come get you for lunch.” 

You nod. Of course you’d find yourself alone again between meals. You’re beginning to notice a pattern. “Yes, sir.” 

His hand is warm as it settles on your shoulder, squeezing gently. You’re surprised by the touch, as small as it is. Were they too fighting the urge to get close to you, like you had this morning? 

You can still feel the warmth of his hand even after it’s disappeared and he’s gone. You head for the rec room, deciding to avoid the constricting feeling of being shut in your room for the time being. 

The TV is on when you enter, but the room is empty, playing some morning talk show. You move to the bookshelf against the wall, letting your eyes scan the titles. There's a surprising lack of military-based books shoved into the packed shelf. Of course there's a handful of old manuals and handbooks, nothing that you're particularly concerned about needing to read. You let out a sigh, standing on your toes to reach a Brandon Sanderson novel. 

You look around the room but the remote for the TV seems to be missing, and it’s too high on the wall for you to reach the power button, so you leave it on, curling up on one corner of the couch as you begin to read. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed when something moves in your peripheral. The sun has come out briefly, shining in through the windows. You look up from the book, suddenly feeling very small under Ghost’s gaze. His eyes are narrowed as he stares down at you, a thousand things flashing through your mind. Are you in his spot? Is this his book? Had he come to the rec room hoping to be alone and here you are infringing in his space? 

“Come on.” He says, his voice rougher than it had been this morning. “Lunch.” 

He’s already turned and heading out the door as you scramble up, leaving the book on the coffee table as you hurry to catch up to him. His steps are quick and wide, and you find yourself having to almost speedwalk to keep up with him. 

Your thoughts are jumbled as you follow him out of the barracks and off towards the mess. Why would they send him to get you? Was he the only one available? Yesterday they had time before lunch to return to the barracks, or had that only been because of you? Or were they perhaps hoping this might offer a chance for the two of you to bond a bit? 

Or were they entirely blind to Ghost’s disinterest in your existence? 

Perhaps they were used to it. After so long together, perhaps they just thought it was normal. If you were brave enough to bring it up, would you get a “oh that’s just how he is” in response? 

You can’t see the others as you enter the mess, Ghost leading you to the line. He stands behind you like a hulking shadow, his scent covered by the smell of gunpowder and sweat. You fill your own tray for the first time, grabbing things that look appetizing. You’ll have to get used to it eventually, even though the others insisted on doing it for the time being. When they’re not here, you’ll have to do it yourself. 

Ghost leads you to an empty table, and you opt to sit across from him. You begin to eat, taking big bites to avoid the need for conversation, not that you really thought Ghost would strike up a conversation with you. Your eyes flicker around the room nervously, glancing over the entrances time and time again, waiting for the others to arrive. 

“Stop twitching. They’re on their way.” 

The words cut straight through you and you snap your head around to face Ghost. He’s got his mask pulled up to his nose, your eyes immediately drawn to the exposed pale skin. There’s light stubble on his chin. You remember how that had felt on your own skin when he’d scented you. He’s blonde, you think, or at least has light hair judging by the color of the stubble. There’s a scar on his chin, almost hidden by the stubble. 

Your face warms as you realize you’ve been caught in your nervous fretting. Of course, you should have known he would take notice. There’s not a lot they don’t notice, you think. Though, when your survival depends on noticing even the smallest detail of anything or anyone...

You jump as a tray is set down next to yours, your eyes snapping up to see Gaz with a smile on his face. You turn back to look at Ghost, his mask pulled back down but you see a slight shake to his shoulders for a second.

Was he...laughing at you? 

Your attention is drawn from him as Gaz takes a seat next to you, sitting close enough his arm is almost brushing yours. Price and Soap taking their usual spots as well. You’re beginning to pick up on the patterns that existed around them, and their own patterns. Perhaps that will make it easier for you to fit yourself into their lives. You knew from the start they weren’t going to change to fit you into their lives. They couldn’t. You were going to have to find a way to fit into their lives. 

Gaz walks you back to the barracks after lunch, abnormally quiet as he watches you warily. He walks you to your door, leaning on the doorframe as you step inside. 

“You alright?” He asks, big brown eyes shining with worry as he looks you over. 

“Yeah.” You nod, shifting on your feet. “Just tired. I think I might take a nap.” 

He nods, and you’re sure he doesn't quite believe you, but he doesn’t press any. “Alright. Happy napping.” 

You close the door as he leaves, sinking down onto the edge of the bed with a sigh. It’s been a long day and it’s only lunch. Between the probing questions from Dr. Keller and the few minutes you had spent alone with Ghost you feel exhausted. It was good to know you weren’t entirely broken in your lack of nesting instincts, and perhaps your turmoil with belonging in this place wasn’t quite as abnormal as you thought. 

What to do about Ghost.

He’s said more words to you today than he did in the entirety of the previous day. In fact, you think today might be the first time he’s spoken to you at all. You know he doesn’t approve of you, and you’d go so far as to say he doesn’t like you. You can imagine he fought the hardest against you being added to the pack. They were fine without you. It didn’t take a genius to see that. 

You’re an outsider. A civilian. A risk. 

An unneeded disruption to their lives. 

You pull your phone out of your pocket, staring at the dark screen. You know Ghost might never accept you. He won’t want to claim you, he won’t mate you, but...perhaps you might just get him to tolerate you. 

You unlock your phone, sending a quick text to Kate. 

“Can you get a book for me?”

You regret your decision momentarily as you step into the rec room. Gaz and Soap are lounged on the couch, beer bottles open on the coffee table. The TV is playing ads, their attention on each other. You almost feel as if you’re infringing upon a private moment as they laugh, half tempted to race back to your room and hide until your hunger draws you out or someone breaks down the door to get to you. 

“Hey!” Gaz’s face lights up when he sees you, Soap turning to look at you.

“Hey, bonny!” His face lights up with a smile. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” You ask, shifting nervously on your feet. 

“Not at all.” Gaz says, patting the empty spot on the couch next to him. “You want a beer?” 

You shake your head. “No thank you. Never could get past the taste.” 

Soap throws his head back as he laughs, slapping Gaz’s shoulder. “I keep tellin’ ye!” 

“Yet you keep drinking it!” Gaz attempts to defend himself. 

“Cause it’s th’ only thing we got!” Soap argues, leaning around Gaz to stare at you. “So, ye a football fan, bonny?” 

“Well, I watched the World Cup a couple times as a kid.” You say. “My household was more of an American football and baseball household. Two of my older brothers played soccer, though they never were very serious about it. Mostly just did it to fulfill my dad’s physical activity extracurricular requirement.” 

“What did you do to fulfill that requirement?” Gaz asks as he takes a sip of his beer. 

“Softball. I was...not good at it.” You laugh. “I could catch and throw, but I don’t think I hit the ball a single time I was at bat.” 

Both of them chuckle, turning back to the TV as the ad ends. “Don’t worry, we’ll turn you into a proper football fan yet.” Gaz says. 

You watch the game with them, and it doesn’t take you long to realize they’re rooting for opposing teams. They explain things to you here and there in between yelling at the TV and each other. Despite how loud they are, you find yourself relaxing further and further, the tension from the last two days easing away, even as the two betas yell at each other over a soccer game. 

Gaz tenses for a second as he feels a sudden weight on his shoulder. He turns his head slightly, noticing you’ve fallen asleep, your head drooping onto his shoulder. His lips quirk up in a smile as he gently nudges Soap. 

“Wha?” Soap asks, turning to look at him. 

He jerks his head to the side, leaning back just slightly so Soap can see. A grin breaks out on the younger man’s face and he pulls out his phone. “Aww, look a’ that. Think we should wake ‘er and get ‘er tae bed?” 

“Nah.” Gaz says. “Let her sleep for now. She probably needs it.” 

You sleep soundly through overtime, Gaz not moving until the post game is over, letting you sleep as long as possible. He knows you have to be tired, after the last few days and the time difference. You looked tired today, with dark circles and droopy eyes. He hates to wake you, but he knows you can’t sleep on the couch. 

He nudges you gently, trying to rouse you. “Hey.” He nudges you again, your head finally lifting off his shoulder. 

You blink sleepily, rubbing at your eyes. You make a quiet sound in protest of being awake, eyes drooping closed again. 

“Come on, love.” He says, keeping you upright. “It’s time for bed.” 

You cover your yawn with your hand, blinking at him sleepily. “Bed?” You murmur sleepily, Gaz smiling softly at how adorable you are in this state. 

“Yeah, you’ll be more comfortable in bed.” He pushes himself to stand, hands on your arms to pull you up. 

You make another sound in protest, nearly falling against his chest when he gets you on your feet. He wraps an arm around you, letting you lean on him as he guides you back to bed, Soap cleaning up the mess they had made. 

You’re more awake once you get to your door, blinking up at him with bleary eyes. “‘S fun.” You murmur, rubbing your eyes. “Should do that more often.” 

“You’re always welcome to join us.” He says. “Get some rest. You’ve had a long week.” He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Night, love.” 

He waits until your door is closed before heading back down the hallway towards the rec room, a small smile on his face. 

NEXT ->

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[ririblogsss]

Danny the park crazy guy

Ok this follows Danny with him deciding he needs to get out of Amity Park cause he's parents are getting more and more obsessed with catching Phantom. And the plans he'd over heard were sending him into panic attacks. Not only that a new management was placed for the GIW, and with that they had become more brutal and accurate with their capturing. Danny couldn't make sure ghosts were safe and protect civilians, so Danny made a deal with Technus in exchange for most of the tech Danny has made in the past 6 months Technus has to hack into the portals that his parents and Vlad owned and permanently destroy them. Technus also made sure to wipe all the information on how to re-build the portal and planted a bug that will corrupt any file trying to mimic the portals code/mechanics. 

At first Dannys plan was to play the part of the defenseless boy who just witnessed his parents whole life work go down the drain, and pretend that ghost never happened. He's parents were sad (understatement of the century) but they soon found something to hyper focus on, before becoming ecto-biologist, they were trying to find ways to make liquid that would dissolve plastic in a non-lethal and non-toxic way. So after 2 months of not doing anything and only staying in bed eating ice-cream and fudge its like a light bulb turned on onto of their heads, and Madeline and Jack went back to their old selves. They still had moments were they would gaze back at their projects with heartbroken eyes, and Danny could help but blame himself for his parents suffering. 

Its like one day everything was close to normality (as normal as amity park could be) people weren't mentioning ghost in fear that one would appear out of spite. Classes went uninterrupted people were actually happy for that. 

But then the GIW started making moves, as they were getting more and more restless with no ghost sightings in the last 6 months. 

Then 3 months ago everything went to shit......

Danny could only explain it as if the Salem witch trials had started. But instead it was the 21st century and people were being accused of being / cooperating / aiding ghosts. The GIW had stormed into the town hall and had claimed that Amity park was in full quarantine. No one in no one out. Vlad was taken in for 'investigation' accused of working with the ghost because he never helped the GIW or offered funds, hence committing treason the US government. 

After that People would be taken out of their homes and obligated to take tests to prove they weren't with the enemy, if they passed they went back to their homes traumatized. if they failed.... Well no one really knows, but one might guess from all the screaming. 

Ironically. Dannys parents were the fist accused of cooperating with the enemy. The GIW stated that they seemed suspicious from the start as they never truly caught anything. he hadn't seen them since they were drugged and stuffed into the back of a van. Danny was thankful that Jazz (for collage) and Dani (traveling in Bangladesh) were out of Amity, but it wasn't like he could contact them and tell them what was happening. 

The GIW had cut all contact to the rest of the word from Amity Park probably because what they were doing was considered illegal and definitely were crossing human rights. 

Luckily Sams and Tuckers family were able to come to an agreement with the GIW so they could be exempted from the quarentine (buy themselves a way out). Unluckily Danny like most families didn't have those types of resources. 

But Danny isn't a Fenton for nothing, craziness, gull and genius ran through his veins. So every morning when they were obligated out of their homes and made to sit on the grass of the park square while the agents searched for any 'evidence' in their homes. Danny would use his core to emit a frequency that only other ghost and some metas could hear. But that wasn't what Danny was communicating to no. 

He was sending commands to all the animals he had befriended the last 15 years of his life. You see ever since Danny was a kid he loved how one could be able to domesticate any animal as long as you had food. So Danny when he was a kid applied The Operant conditioning to all the animals he crossed paths with. 

A few weeks after his accident (death) when Danny was making his daily feeding times for the animals in exchange for trinkets and money he realized something. He could understand what the animals 'spoke' and the animals could understand him through the vibrations of his core. When he asked CW about it he only told him that ghost speak allowed him to communicate with anything and anyone if he had a close enough relationship towards them. 

Basically this meant that Danny had hundreds if not thousands of animals (rats, street dogs and cats, pigeons, squirrels ect.. ) at his disposal. The only reason he never used them when fighting Ghosts was obvious he wasn't going to risk the life of his friends. 

And right now his friends were making underground escape routes for all of the Amity Parkers. The plan was already being set in motion. Everyone knew their part. 

One group would be distraction, a group of kids would scream and point in the opposite direction of the escape route and say they had seen a ghost and it was trying to hurt them. The GIW would be guided into a wooded area were they would be attacked by the more predatorial animals. Making them call for back up. 

One group would composed of the most athletic adults / young adults would go into the main base of the GIW (check for survivors and help them get out). 

Another group (the elderly) was in charge of checking that everyone was accounted for. 

Mothers, would be evacuated first with their children, they would be the get away drivers. Different drivers would take different routs. Some left the country other the continent itself. Some when to larger cities for hiding amongst the crowd. But the main goal was stick to your family and preferably if you can go alone. The less people the less likely you are to getting caught. 

And the teenagers from casper high, would ensure all their traces were lost making sure all phones and gadgets were left behind, as to avoid getting tracked down. 

And that's how Amity Park became a dead town (pun intended) in less than 60 minutes. 

This leads us to the present. 

It had been 7 months since Danny had left Amity park. he hadn't seen anyone or contacted anyone from there since. The over all consensus was that everyone had to go no contact with one another as to not raise awareness as to why so many people from different places were constantly calling one another. Danny was certain that Jazz and Dani had been contacted by Sam and Tucker about the situation in Amity. What he wasn't sure of is if they knew he was out of Amity or even alive for that matter. 

Danny was not dealing with what happened well. One of the guys who went into the Town Hall pulled him a aside for a second when they were evacuating to tell him. That he had seen both his parents bodies. They had not survived. Not many who were taken against their will into the Hall came out spared. 

Danny was devastated with his parent untimely death, he only hoped they had a humane one. 

So no Danny was not ok. he knew Jazz would criticize his copping methods. But if taking over a park in the middle of a crime riddled city was sooooo bad then why did he have the support of the Bats. (not the vigilantes the actual cave bats). 

Danny had gotten to Gotham not too long ago (about 4 1/2) months, and decided that the GIW wouldn't dare on their life go into a city were the 'wolds greatest detective and most feared man live'. Danny made an abandoned building overlooking the park his own. he quickly became allies with the fauna there and soon his rein over the part began. 

---

It started slowly, honest to god not a single local though anything of the bony kid laughing his ass off as he oversaw birds and other critters alike help him build what looked like a greenhouse. They did what any Gothamite would do mind their own damn business and go on with their day. 

It wasn't unlit the trees and torn plants started to build a wall like structure around the park that they started to think that the kid was going to be the next Poison Ivy. Worst of all they some have speculated seeing Pamela and Harley go in and out of the park... both smiling like proud parents. Some say that the kid was an ex Wayne kid that was sent into an asylum, and was kept quiet. Some speculate that the kids a meta that controls all animals. Some state they saw the kid talk to the animals and the animals actually listened and did word for word what he asked. 

But Gothamites weren't that worried if they were honest. The kid (Danny as he was now known) brought more entertainment (of the good kind) to Gotham he fit right in. The only thing that made him stand out was his mid-western accent. When asked where he was from he would only stare at you while an animal (different every time mostly racoons) would chase you away. Other than that the kid was a sweetheart he would often bring the veggies and fruits he cultivates in the park to homeless shelters so that the residents would have a 'more nutritious and full diet'. 

The kid would send animals to keep watch on kids and be alerted if any were at risk he would drop in and help in a very unusual way. And he always traded money for little things and bottle caps anything handmade (especially by kids) was infinitely rewarded with money and an automatic meal. 

Danny was known as the Gotham parks crazy. But he was their crazy and no government (illegal) agency of a brigade of bats and birds was going to take him away from them. 

(waaa this was way longer that expected I only wanted to write a sentence of local crazy Danny, and I just ended up writting mostly art other stuff)

[ethereal-night-fairy]

Hi this is my first time doing this, I love your Christmas series, I thought of this idea yesterday- pre poly Task force 141 × reader where Ghost, Price and Gaz come to base late at night from a mission while reader and Soap are asleep, they come to base and see reader walking to Soaps room groggy with a pillow, and when asked, they say that Soap snores too loud so they will hit him with the pillow to shut him up.( maybe add a little reaction to them seeing reader wearing shorts and a tank top)

Thank you for sending in this ask. It's such a cute idea!! I hope you like what I wrote.

(Oh btw my blog can be quite dark with my other series, it would be much appreciated if you had 18+ or age in your bio so I know not to block you accidentally)

Sleepy

Pre poly 141 x GN Reader

Warnings: MDNI, fluff, slight ideation to murder soap in his sleep, jealous Gaz, 141 ogling reader in sleep wear nothing too explicit though, sorry if I missed any.

AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Poly Masterlist

Words: 1.5k

The rumble of the engine finally came to a stop. Price, Ghost and Gaz just arrived back on base after an excruciating intel mission. At least it was successful and with minimal injuries. They just needed to shower and decompress for a while in order to recover. Obviously no one was looking forward to the debrief the next morning, it meant they couldn't sleep in. They all file out of the humvee groaning out their grievances to the chilly night air, their breaths condensing into clouds due to the cold.

Price's muscles were killing him after that nasty fall from the second story. But he had wiped their servers of all the information they needed. Which he was happy about. He stretches and groans, hearing his joints pop from sitting in one position too long. He rolls his arms trying to get the knot out of his shoulders, while the other two do the same. They walk the hallways in silence hoping to get to their respective beds as soon as possible. It looked like no one was in the mood to share tonight for obvious reasons.

“It's so unfair that Soap got to spend the last three days with them while we were busting our asses off”, Gaz groaned. He was the most annoyed by the mission arrangement. Especially since he was only just getting closer to you after your near-death experience. He was becoming more and more infatuated with you by the day. So much so that petty arguments were breaking out when one of the other boys spent too much time near you for Gaz's liking. He didn't complain as long as he was paired with you for almost everything.

“You know it's not like that, they were also working whilst we were away. He's probably driving them mad anyway. You know they have a special place for you in their heart”, Price countered. Soap and you were left on base since you two were gathering intel for an upcoming mission. It required a lot of attention so it was decided that you and Soap would stay behind to work on it.

“Obviously I'm their favourite…why wouldn't I be?…I treat them the best..”, Gaz continues to grumble quietly to himself. The other two men can't help but chuckle to themselves. He needed to learn how to share better. Eventually they turn the corner to their private barracks only to find you standing in front of Soaps door in the darkly lit hallway. It was jarring at first since they weren't expecting anyone awake at this time. You almost gave them a heart attack just standing there menacingly. You resemble the ghost with the way your hair was messed up and your clothes were rumpled. Were you sleep walking?

You hadn't noticed them yet, too occupied with staring daggers into Soap’s door while clutching a pillow to your chest. You looked groggy and had your lips situated in an angry pout. Everyone stood not knowing what to do. Price read somewhere you weren't supposed to wake someone who sleepwalks, that it was better to gently get them back into bed. But you looked like you wanted to murder someone. Just as Price is about to move to gently get to you a horrible sound rings out throughout the hallway. A sound akin to jammed chainsaw. A sound that was unmistakably Soaps loud snoring.

“I'm going murder him!”, you shout out, stomping your feet. The men flinch slightly at your outburst but it was a funny sight. Definitely welcomed after their exhausting mission, they try hard to keep their laughter contained.

“Who are ya plannin on murderin?”, you yelp and turn towards Ghosts deep manchester accent, hastily hiding your would be murder weapon behind your back. In doing so your chest gets pushed out slightly highlighting your tight tank top with your equally tight short shorts. The fabric clinged to your figure giving the men quite a nice eyeful as you fumble with your words.

“Y-your back, so soon? W-we were expecting you tomorrow morning. Me? I-I wasn't doing anything. I was just going to have a friendly?..yeah friendly chat with Soap. I-I wasn't going to suffocate him promise!…though I could..I definitely could…b-but I wasn't going to do it..promise..m-maybe just smack him a little that's all. I haven't been able to sleep since you guys left…”

They watch you with amusement as you stutter, getting all your excuses out while the men try to hold their laughter in. Obviously they knew you wouldn't harm him seriously, you probably just wanted to hit him with the pillow to get him to shut up so you could sleep. Such an adorable thing you were with your pillow now clutched to your chest as you mumbles your frustration into it. It was a shame the pillow hid all the things they wanted to see but that was ok, they knew this wasn't going to be the only time they saw you in your sleepwear. Especially since they were growing closer to you. But that didn't change the fact everyone needed sleep right now including you. You looked ready to topple over.

Gaz is the first to move as he laughs openly at your antics. He envelops you in a bear hug while trying to get you out of your sour mood. “Come sleep in my bed. I'll put some white noise on so you can't hear him, I'll even make you some tea so you can settle down”, you whine in his hold telling him you've already tried that. Ghost walks by petting your head suggesting wearing ear plugs but you just shake your head into the pillow as you hear him enter his room bidding everyone goodnight. Another earth shaking snore rings out from Soaps room making you groan out in frustration. None of the other men minded Soaps snoring since they were so used to it. They also had their own methods of dealing with the noise. Ghost wore ear plugs but didn't mind the noise most days. Gaz used white noise and the captain was fortunate enough to have his room further away beside his office for easy access.

“Come sleep in my bed tonight sweetheart, you won't be able to hear him there”, Gaz lets you go to pout angrily at his Captain and lover. Price just smirks at him, it was fair game when it came to you. No rules or boundaries were established yet. He'll have to make it up to him later.

“Really? Is that ok captain…?”, you look at him hopefully with your droopy eyes.

“Of course..I need my soldiers in tip top shape. Run along now make yourself comfortable while I chat with Gaz”, you do exactly that after saying goodnight, probably extremely relieved you wouldn't lose another night of sleep. Gaz continues pouting as Price kisses him goodnight.

“Better luck next time love”, Price chuckles to himself as he hears Gaz groan and mutter to himself as he enters his room.

Walking in Price finds you fast asleep, curled up comfortably in the far end of the bed. You must have been really tired. He smiles to himself as he strips quietly to go shower off all the dirt and grime from the mission. Once he's finally scrubbed clean and smelling like his favourite body wash he gently climbs into bed making sure not to wake you. The soft bed is forgiving towards his sore muscles and even better yet that it has a soft body to keep him warm throughout the night. For a second he watches your gentle breathing before getting comfortable and pulling the duvet over the both of you.

Price is a gentleman..most days.. so he stays by his side but it seems your sleep deprived mind has other ideas because you curl against him the second he's beside you. You were basically treating him like a warm body pillow, not that Price minded. He just needed to not focus on what you were wearing or else he wasn't getting any sleep tonight. You're probably too deep in sleep to realise what you were doing anyway. Such a feisty kitten you were when you were all tired and grumpy. He watches you move and get comfortable by placing your cheek on his chest as he settles into bed properly and wrapping his arms around you.

You'd do nicely as another addition to their relationship. He knew the boys were growing to love you more and more as the days went by. To the point that jealousy was being felt if anyone apart from them tried gaining your attention. The only question was how to approach the topic? You weren't the brightest when it came to things of this nature and they didn't want to scare or pressure you into anything. But that was a problem for another day. For tonight he was going to enjoy your warmth to the fullest.

“Our grumpy little sunshine, we'll make you ours just wait a little longer”, with that whispered into the darkness Price places a gentle kiss on your forehead before falling asleep as well.

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Multiverse Police (pt.3)

JL very soon finds out there's no reasoning or controlling this particular brand of crazy. Amity, as they like to call themselves - 'Because saying Interdimensional Law Enforcement every time is long and ILE is boring', Dani explains to them - do whatever they want and deem necessary, and no one can stop them.

They have bargained with the US government to let their whole town stay for a week in Illinois like one would ask to stay in a hotel room. They have all but swiped all the tech shops in the nearby area, and somehow, they had real, actual money to pay for it, despite not even originating from this dimension. They claimed it was due to the Ghost - or God, the opinions were mixed - of Time making it work. They visited a bunch of people. Heroes, that was.

One memorable visit was one they paid to Flashes. Vlad, the mayor of Amity Park and unofficial leader of ILE, and Tucker, a kid with an insane knowledge on all and every kind of tech, performed a whole lecture to Flash family as well as their friends and colleagues, on importance of safety while time-traveling, the best ways to fix the timelines and even on upgrades to their costumes.

The other important visit was the one they paid to Diana, although that one was not so climactic - Jazz just gave her a bunch of letters and a card with a summoning sigil on it. 'It's for Pandora, she enjoys having a cup of tea with Themyskirians,' the redhead claimed.

Now, it was Batman's turn, it seems.

Danny was standing - more like floating - in front of Red Hood. They were at the Watchtower since Batman did not like Amity coming to Gotham. In his opinion, that would be just calling for trouble, and both Valerie - head of ILE security - and the records of other Batmans said he was not wrong.

"Yeah, this one's fucked up," Danny says after almost three minutes of looking straight at Hood, and the man huffs:

"Thanks, I got that part," he throws back, but Danny just laughs softly.

"No, sorry, I didn't mean it as you personally. Just, like, compared to the other Red Hoods I've met. At least you're not fucked up beyond reason, I can still help you," the ghost boy says cheerfully and claps his hands, "Ready to get rid of the boiling rage in your veins?"

And, before either Hood or Batman can say anything, he reaches his hands inside Jason, and the man tenses up, holding his breath. Batman hovers close - he's read about the same kind of procedure being performed by Danny on other versions of Jason in the files, but reading about it and witnessing it is two entirely different things.

Danny's hands start turning green. The same thing he did with the portal before happens again: glowing, Lazarus green flows up his hands, like veins outside his skin. Only this time, it's not as bright as the portal was. It's murky and dull.

A few seconds later, Danny slowly takes his hands out of Red Hood's chest, and Bruce is really glad he was standing so close because Jason all but falls down to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Batman holds him by the shoulder, keeping him up, but Danny shakes his head:

"No, he better sit down. He's probably gonna feel lightheaded for a few minutes. Oh, and catch," he throws something to Batman, which he catches on reflex. It's a weird, jello-like substance of dark, dirty green color, almost like a stress ball.

"What is it?" He asks, and Danny grins:

"A souvenir. That's his Pit Rage," he nods to Red Hood.

"My what?!" Jason snaps his head to the ball in Batman's hands.

"The parts that made it actual Rage. Think, like, an infection, or a parasite, or just- You know what, it's what you get when some crazy asshole bathes you in ghost sewers," Danny shrugs, completely disregarding the face expressions Batman and Red Hood are giving him. "Speaking of which, do you wanna come with us when we get rid of those Lazarus Pits of yours?"

There's a bit of silence, before Red Hood breathes out:

"Hell, yes."

-------------------------

I'll be writing another part with Amity getting rid of Ra's and Lazarus Pits, yeah. In the meantime, Sam is looking for Constantine to give him a slap on the hand because all the John Constantine's pieces of soul were like a massive jigsaw puzzle to her, considering there's more than one John Constantine and all of them can't stop selling their fucking souls even for a minute and Sam is so done.

Tucker and Tim are nerding out in WE with no sleep or food, Damian gets to play with Cujo, Kon is discussing clones' trials and tribulations with Dani, Jazz is giving Supes a long overdue lecture on how to treat clones, Dan is looking for someone to fight - so far he's found Captain Marvel but he knows he is just a kid so instead of actual fighting they are playing Mario Cart - Val is having fun with Arrows because sharp shooters gotta stick together, and Vlad had abandoned all of his responsibilities and is hiding in Lex Luthor's penthouse, discussing cat breeds and how annoying heroes can be.

Paulina made her way into Gotham without anyone noticing and befriended Harley and Sirens, so Batman may or may not find a particular clown dead when he comes back to his city. Dash is actually not up for trouble, so he is on duty in Amity Park, doing tours for all the curious people who got interested in ghost town and decided to visit. GIW agents are in the process of locating all the Pits, Maddie is elbow deep in a scientific discussion with Martian Manhunter, Jack is upgrading the Amity Ship with all the new tech he's got, and Cyborg is keeping watch on him.

Did I forget anyone? I most likely did.

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Tag list: @mae-mae-mae @okami-love @fantasticstoryteller @ultra-stormsaga

[cakelitter]

Hearts and Badges Rookie! Leon x fem! reader

warning: NSFW, unprotected sex, mastubation, semi-public sex

summary: Rookie cop Leon gets the normal cop life he deserves.

words: 3.1k

Joining the R.P.D you knew you’re going to be up for many tasks, but didn’t expect babysitting to be one of them. Leon S.Kennedy, a new member in your team. Top of his class back at police academy, savior complex, and is following you around the police station like a lost puppy.

Well, he was told to do that anyways. Chief thought you’d be the best to show him around on his first day, as if everything in this department doesn’t get shoved into your lap to deal with. You’re nice, you promise you are. But god, it’s so hard to not lose your shit under the pressure your under. “Diamonds are made under pressure”, your balding at the ripe age of 23.

Showing him around and teaching him how things are done here, wouldn’t be too hard if he didn’t have room temperature IQ. You were explaining to him to how to file reports and submit them on the computer for 15 minutes. And when you’re done with your explanation, you turn around to see if he understood, all you get in return is an empty stare. Not a single thought behind those blue eyes. You’re positive at this point that he uses his maximum brain capacity for his lame ass jokes.

“Okay so, all of your guns and gears are placed in your assigned locker. Yours happens to be 209 right over there” you say the last part while pointing at the end of the row of lockers. His expression looks… is he constipated? Why does he look like he’s holding something back? Is he confused about something but is too shy to ask?

“Is there anything you wanna say?”

He stays quiet for a moment then speaks.

“What do you call a gun that likes to party? A shot gun.”

“…”

It took all of your willpower to not grab your gun from your holster and end it all. There is no way he said that. Your expression remains bland, trying to decipher what was his thought process when he decided to say that. His cheeks heat up with embarrassment as he apologizes under his breath. You nod pursing your lips and move on to the next room with him following behind.

Worst part of it all, is that he’s cute. Dirty blonde hair, puffy lips, sky-blue eyes, and a boy band haircut. All giving a boy next door look to him. He has the girls at the station gushing over him, as if they aren’t pushing 30, and he’s completely oblivious of it all. You had the misfortune of watching Summer the Slut Miller flirt with him, as if fucking the whole station wasn’t enough. Biting her teeth into his neck marking him as her next victim with each hint of hers flying right above his head. Either her tits short-circuited his brain or he’s just that clueless, telling you how nice she was after she left.

Although your task of training him is complete and he graduated from your daycare, he still follows you around. Attached to your hip is an understatement, it feels like he’s riding on your back at all times. “What are you doing?” “Where are you going?” “Can I come with you?” He talks to you so much; you’re starting to hear his voice and stupid remarks even when he’s not there. He’s basically haunting you but the motherfucker isn’t even dead. God forbid he dies, the only thing stopping him from following you home is his morals. As soon as he becomes a ghost, nothing is stopping him.

It’s not like he doesn’t have anyone else to talk to at the station. He made more friends in the 2 months he’s been here, more than the amount you’ve made in the past 2 years. Leon is pretty popular in the station now adays, he’s nice and hardworking, everyone likes him. You are nice too, but instead of being invited to Anderson’s grill party, you get peer pressured into taking on tasks that aren’t yours in the first place. While Leon got assigned the title of the happy go lucky rookie, you on the other hand got assigned the title of… nothing. You doubt anyone other than your teammates and chief know your name.

And as a result of that, here you are sitting at your desk writing another report while everyone’s out on lunch break. The sound of your keyboard keys clicking fills the silent office as you type away. Your eyes are genuinely starting to get fuzzy from staring at your screen all day today. Amidst your endless typing, you hear the sound of boots slowly approaching your desk.

“What do you want rookie.” You say without even looking up. Of course it’s Leon, who else would even bother walking anywhere near their desk during break. Not that your colleagues do much anyways.

“Mike got some donuts for everyone; I brought you one. I got you this cause I’ve seen you eat it before, figured it might be your favorite.”

You look up from your screen for the first time in what feels like ages, and your eyes land at the donut that is placed on your desk, with a tissue paper beneath it, then back at Leon who’s now standing in front of your desk. It was your favorite, and it actually came at the perfect time. You barely slept last night so you could use some sugar.

“Thanks Leon.” You reply with a weak smile and he reciprocates with a smile as well. One that isn’t quite as tired of yours. You take a bite out of the donut then start typing again.

“Spending another lunch break here again?” He asks staring at you then at the cute decorations you have around your desk. You spend more time at this desk than at home, so you might as well make it a bit more pleasant to look at.

You sigh defeatedly and nod, as he leans on the office desk in front of yours. He looks at you and purses his lips together, aware of the bullshit you go through every day.

“Peterson is having a party over at his house this weekend, you coming?”

“Wasn’t invited.”

“Oh.”

You never were, it’s not like you’d go anyway.  Parties are not your thing, especially with this much work load. As soon as you come home you shower before passing out on your bed at 10 o’clock sharp. He starts telling you about some random thing he saw at patrol last night, giving you a report that you hopefully don’t need to type for him as well. You honestly doubt you’ve ever seen him converse with anyone else at the station as much as he does with you. Maybe it’s because you were the first to introduce yourself to him here, or maybe he’s just clingy, or both.

A couple minutes later, you’re finally done with your report and just need to print it out. You press print and wait for the printer at the end of the room to start printing it. But it doesn’t, something’s wrong. You sigh and slump onto your chair.

“I’ll go check” Leon says as he walks over to the device. “It’s out of paper.”

Great, these assholes can’t even bother to refill the paper.

“Where are you going?”

“Supply closet, don’t follow me.”

You say, grabbing your keys and leaving the room. It’s not long before the sound of boots start following up behind you, not surprised. Reaching the supply closet you unlock it and start looking for paper in the dusty and dim place. Crouched down while you look at the bottom shelf, you sense a presence at the door frame behind you.

“What part of ‘don’t follow me’ is difficult for you to understand rookie?”

“…I’m bored.”

“Then at least come here and make yourself useful.”

You hear him approach then crouch down next to you. The sound of the plastic bag covered items rustling fills the tiny space as you both continue searching. Shouldn’t these closets be full with paper anyway? But instead, all you find is old reports and boxes of pens, tape, and paper clips. You mentally cross your fingers and hope you find them here; you’re not in the mood to walk up 2 flights of stairs to the other storage room.

“Amelia asked me out on a date.”

Leon says after a while. Your expression remains the same, that was random, but you’re used to him spitting out nonsense at this point.

“S.T.A.R.S office Amelia or West office Amelia?”

“West office Amelia.” He whispers back.

“What’d you say?”

“I said no.”

Your brows furrow in confusion and curiosity. You don’t know much about her, but heard that she’s sweet. You look over to your side at him. His expression is hard to see in the dim room, but he doesn’t turn around to face you and instead keeps searching.

“Why? She’s pretty.” You reply, as you retract your hands back from the shelf and stop searching.

“Yeah, she is… but I’m just-” He says before he stops himself.

Oh, now you’re interested. Papers and reports can wait, but Leon talking about his love life to you is something he has yet to overshare about.

“You’re…?” You ask, hand rolling forwards gesturing him to continue. He stays quiet for a minute; you doubt he’s even searching anymore but is simply trying to distract himself.

“I’m interested in someone else.”

Your eyebrows raise in shock. Did Summer finally blind him with her ass? No, he’s not the type to go for these types of women. You’ve seen him talk with Emma at the library a few times, and she giggles a little too hard at his jokes. Could it be her? Or maybe it’s someone you don’t know? Either way, you want to know who managed to win over the heart of prince charming over here.

“Who?” Alright, usually you don’t really care when someone tells you life updates or station gossip. But you’re a sucker for romantic drama. A huge part of it is because your love life is as nonexistent as Leon’s ability to take a hint, but that’s besides the point.

The rustling caused by Leon’s hands stop and he turns around and faces you. The light from outside from the hallway seeps into the dingy room highlighting a part of his face. The two of you stare at each other for a couple of seconds before he speaks.

“I don’t think she likes me; it doesn’t matter.”

“How can you be so sure? Tell me and I swear I won’t tell anyone.”

The two of you sound like elementary students whispering about their crushes and pinky promising to keep it a secret. Except you’re not, and you don’t know why he’s making such a big deal out of it. He contemplates for a bit, biting his lip.

…

“I like you.”

The three words slip out of his mouth and you can hear the sound of glass shattering. You? He likes you? There is no way, how can he possibly…

It feels like you got slapped in the face, and the pieces all fall in place. You kept talking about him missing hints and being so socially unaware when you were doing the same thing. You, out of all the women at the station who are fighting over him, he chooses the one that has been barely giving him attention at all. Men are interesting creatures. He notices your silence and starts speaking.

“Your just really cool and hardworking, I couldn’t- I’m sorry if you feel-”

You kiss him.

You don’t even realize what you’ve done till it’s too late. Why did you even do that? Sure, you do find him cute, and his jokes started growing on you, and you’re actually secretly happy that he keeps you company-

Yeah fine, you like him too.

His lips feel soft as they start to kiss yours back, his hot breath fanning out on your skin. He starts leaning in more into your touch, letting out a soft whine doing so. You pull away slowly, as your eyes meet with his once again. He’s shocked? Happy? You can’t quiet pinpoint what it is exactly.

“You al-”

“Shut up.” You interrupt again, pulling him in by his vest and he crashes his lips into yours. His eyes flutter close as the kiss transitions from passionate to fiery, his hand reaches out and intertwines with yours, thumb caressing it gently. While his other hand is situated on the ground next to your hip providing him with support to kiss you even deeper. His tongue nervously enters your mouth and you accept it. Your heart is doing backflips from how fast things are moving, or you’re having stroke.

He helps you get up while your kiss is still ongoing and guides you to stand near the corner of one of the shelves, his hand shuts the closet’s door. You moan softly into his mouth as he grabs your hip. One of your hands is places on his neck, thumb caressing it, while the other is placed on his chest. His dick is pressed up against your abdomen, you can already feel how rock solid it is and you have barely even touched him yet.

Both of your mouths separate and he lifts up your shirt with one of his hands and starts kissing your breasts and your abdomen, grabbing the hair on the back of his head as you bite your lip. His kisses are abrupt, and all over the place almost as if he can’t believe that this is actually happening. He’s clearly pent up, or just really excited to have you like this.

Getting up, and letting your shirt fall back to its place, he leans into your neck placing open mouthed kisses there. Hot shaky breath making you shiver. You feel his hand grab yours and guides you towards his clothed cock before whispering in your ear.

“Please touch me.”

You comply, palming him through his pants as he groans like he’s in pain. Leon S. Kennedy is asking- no begging you to touch him in a staff closet was not on your bucket list for this year.

“Yea- Fuck yeah just like this.”

He ruts his hips into your hand and his eyes lock with yours. He looks like he’s not even with you anymore. Completely blissed out from the feeling of your hand on his dick. The sight alone has slick pooling on the gusset of your panties as he starts kissing your neck again. Your head falls back as he kisses and sucks on the sensitive flesh so desperately.

Your hand abandons his boner and starts unbuckling his belt, the sound of his leather belt coming undone is then followed by his pants dropping to his boots, while your hand slips under his boxers pulling his dick out. So much precums it’s practically dripping. Your hand squeezes the base a bit and starts stroking him as his eyes roll to the back of his head. Skin hot, mouth open, brows furrowed while your hands continue their motion, up and down his length.

His hands fumble with the buttons of your pants and pull them down along with your underwear. His hand reaches for your cunt, fingers running through the slit collecting the fluid on his fingertips, before rubbing your clit. If anyone walks in, you’re both so done for, your hands on his dick and his fingers nearly inside of you.

He removes your hand off him and places it on his shoulder. Grabbing his cock himself, he teases your entrance, other hand grabbing one of your thighs pulling it towards him, giving him better access. His tip nudges your clit a few times before penetrating you. You both let out a whine, before he bottoms out completely. Chest to chest, face to face, your fingers snake up the back of his soft hair.

“Thought about this every day, wanted you for so long.” He confesses under his breath, and you pull him in for another kiss. His hips start moving, the tip of his cock hitting the right spot thanks to the position you’re in. The wet sounds in the closet are then joined with the sound of your colleagues chatting and laughing while walking into the hallway.

“Leo-”

He bullies himself into you once more making you change your mind about ever stopping.

“Please, I need you so bad.” He whimpers grabbing onto you so tight like you might run away, as he keeps drilling into you. The pleasure is starting to get more amplified at this new pace. You place your hand over your mouth muffling your moans and Leon bites your shoulder to muffle his.

The smell of sex fills the small space, hips smashing against yours like your colleagues aren’t a few feet away. Your hand caresses his face delicately as he places his forehead onto yours, tears beading on his waterline as the pleasure gets overwhelming. Your hand drops down to your clit stimulating it, making your peak approach faster.

“Leon, I’m gonna cum.”

He nods eagerly, eyes fixated on your hand and the point connecting the two of you. “Almost there too.”

He struggles to form the words as your heat squeezes him tightly, you can feel him throb inside of you. Seconds later you cum, as Leon’s eyes drink up your blissed out expression. Eyes lidded, head mindlessly moving side to side, body tensing up before going limb. Only for him to follow you a millisecond later, feeling his sticky hot release coating you walls. Babbling nonsense about how good you feel, how hot you are and so on. He continues fucking both of you through your orgasms as a white-ring forms around the base of his dick, that he couldn’t help but admire, taking a mental screenshot.

He stays in you for a moment as the two of you catch your breaths, looking up into your eyes and kissing the corner of your mouth. You smile at him, and he like always reciprocates. Eventually, he pulls out of you and quickly helps put your panties back on before your mixed fluids start dripping out. Soon enough, you both are fully dressed and you decide that its best to wait for everyone to leave before heading out.

“…There are no cameras in here, right?” He whispers looking around the space.

 “Of course there is, there are cameras everywhere.” His face, although you can’t see it well, you can sense it going pale. His mouth opening and closing without words coming you, almost like a fish.

“God, you’re gullible.” You say with a chuckle before opening the door and checking if the coast is clear before you step out. A smile forms on his face in relief, following closely after you. And you both head back to work… Only for you to go back 3 minutes later to grab those papers.

Divider by:2 @superawesomelurkaccount

[rboooks]

The bakery is a front!...right? Part 3

Danny carefully finished the last details on a special order cake done by his newest and likely most crucial customer should the man like his pastries.

Bruce Wayne's butler was to arrive in twenty minutes for his youngest son's birthday cake. It was a staking tower and three smaller stacks, each depicting a cow on a farm, and a cat sleeping with a dog in the middle of a leap. Damian had asked for a cake that showed all his pets but was vegan.

It was an honestly fun order even if he didn't quite understand the special instructions.

"Damian's school friends mention a fun new "suger energy" coming from this bakery. I want him not to be seen as someone out of touch, so please make sure to add that in," Bruce Wayne said over the phone to a shocked Danny a week prior. If he got Wayne's attention, then soon his bakery would be the newest hot spot in Gotham!

It would be the perfect cover for bringing over more funds from his Ghost Vault and expanding. He could help many more people with employment without bringing the pesky IRS on his head for having unexplainable cash.

Sometimes doing everything by the book was a headache and a half, but if there was one thing Fentons knew how to do, was make their business significantly legal. How else would his parents file taxes for "ghost hunting?"

Handsome possible mate is near. Phantom purred in his mind while Danny spun the cake one last time to ensure everything was in order.

Sure enough Alvin appears at the kitchen door, not quite within the room, staring

. Danny has no problems with who is in his kitchen, but Andres insisted only kitchen staff needed to be back here. Apparently, they didn't have enough legroom to add more people, taking up unnecessary space.

And Andres had a strange urge to keep all their recipes a secret. It was not uncommon in Gotham for big corporations to send in spies and cause small businesses to go bankrupt when selling their secerts.

Danny, knows he's a good baker, has since he was a child. Even before his move, he could convince other ghosts Rogues to stop mid-fight for a snack break because his creations were tasty. While his original recipes falling into the hands of greedy rich men made him squirm, it was primarily due to someone taking credit for his work rather than any funds lost to them.

So after a while, he agreed to Andres' demands and promoted him to store manager. It was easier to have someone from Gotham run a Gotham shop. It left Danny with more time to bake and keep a eye on the community's recovery.

He was so happy to see that overdoses had gone down by nearly sixty percent since he opened. The homeless population had decreased by forty percent, and overall crime in his area had been a good twenty percent.

It was good to see how he was protecting his haunt.

"Danny" Alvin called after a moment. "Do you need help?"

Now, Alvin is a great guy, cute too but he couldn't decorate a cupcake to save his life. His bother was a better hand in the kitchen.

Bring him to our nessssstttt Phantom urged with a shocking wave of want, almost having Danny tumble over. Ugh, his mating season is getting out of hand.

He had seen Frostbite last week about it, but the yeti told him it was perfectly natural for ecto-beings. He would start to stabilize soon, and hopefully, Phantom would no longer be tripping over its tail to get a significant other and start a family.

His nesting problem only grew recently. Now Danny owned every building on the block- primarily due to the facilities being old businesses that went bankrupt years ago and made it super cheap after sitting there for years collecting dust. He had realized that kids didn't feel safe with adults, so a new building went up for homeless adults on his other side. Then he realized that they could benefit from a laundry place which happened to be one of the businesses that went under.

He got that remodeled and threw more goons into it. Scarecrow's old goons had gotten the word out that Danny paid well, gave excellent benefits, and working for him had the less likely chance of getting their face smashed in. Then a homeless kid asked Danny if he could borrow his bathroom because the temporary ones in the side buildings were small and cold, and the kid really missed splashing around in a tub instead of a shower. He realized he also needed to offer that. So one of the buildings was turned into a bathhouse, with rentable personal spa rooms for regular citizens. Now a community laundromat and bathhouse were open at all hours, helping stop the spread of diseases with good hygiene.

Of course, Danny had to make it seem like the money for all of this came from somewhere. He contacted Vlad, whose status as a billionaire made it easy to wire him the funds. When asked, Vlad would only mention trying to get into his step-kids good side.

He still had plenty of street kids doing bakery deliveries for him, but now he had more space to give them a actually apartment. He of course never ask for commitment and they never gave it to him.

He had a few families approach him to rest out the other buildings for business and he was excited to see different restaurants and cafes blooming to life around him. This whole street, once a dead sad thing, was becoming colorful because of him.

'I'm fine thank you Alvin" Danny says shooting the younger man a grin. Alvin face heats up and Phantom is practically beating its head against a wall. Screaming, crying as Alvin plays with bit of his hair at the bottom of his neck.

Danny swallows down the urge run his fingers through it, focusing on his human side as hard as he could.

"Is that the cake with the special ingredient? The one you send the street kids on deliverieswith?" Alvin asks after a moment pause.

"Sure is. Hopefully, we can get the Wayne's hooked on it. It'll be great for business." Danny smiles. There is a split second where Alvin's face tightens around the mouth like he's angry before it's gone.

"Yeah, I bet. Though with the help of Masters, we won't have to worry about funds for a while, right?"

Putting his tools in the sink to soak, the baker shrugs. "Vlad will help but only after he sees potential in something. The set up I have going got his attention cause of our special ingredient. He's dabbled with it before, you know? That's how he got rich"

Alvin jerks his head in his direction. "So he's an expert?"

"More than an expert. He's the main reason we have so much of this stuff to push. I wouldn't be able to get it on my own without his help," Danny says, absent minded. He's busy trying to beat Phantom back with a stick as his ghost side whines for a child of their own.

He's not going to date any of his employees. That's a weird power imbalance that Jazz would never approve of.

Maybe he should take some time away from the bakery for a while. Danny couldn't find true love if he was always working. He'll ask Tucker and Sam to come to some clubs or something. It could be fun.

I want a baby! Phantom sneered outrage that his demands have been ignored.

Soon Danny promised I'd eat two whole bagels later in the meantime.

"Masters is our leading supplier, and he just lets us manage his goods without instruction? Isn't that a bit unorthodox?

Danny blinks " I guess? Vlad's always done some unorthodox deals. His giving me complete control will likely keep him out of the picture once someone catches on. Gosh, sometimes I wish I got out of the family business as my sisters did, but one of us had done this, or our parents would be unbearable."

Alvin Draper looks sadden "Your parents pushed you into this life?"

"Raised me in it," Danny corrects "My dad and I made his special Fruge for the first time when I was three. Been hooked ever since."

Just then Peter is there looking horror stuck "Your old man got you hooked at age three?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you keep doing it then?"

"The baking? Well, it's ugh part of me now. I'll die of I stop- er die completely. "

Alvin snatched his hand to tug him close, and wow, he was stronger than he looked for a nineteen-year-old. Phantom woofs as the man practically lefts him off the floor to set him on the counter and stare into his eyes. "You don't have to live like this anymore. Let me help you. Let me protect you"

Both Danny and Phantom chock on their shared spit at the best flirting method anyone could use against a protective spirit.

The promise of protection was like someone whispering sweet nothings in his ear during love making.

"I got to go!" He screams jumping away from the brothers to run out of his own bakery in a panic.

Goodness. I need a vacation. Maybe my sisters would be down for some ectoplasm collecting in the Ghost Zone?

(Jason and Tim take the cake for Damian back to the cave, swearing when the test come back as a regular vegan cake. Had Tim stepped in too early and stop Danny from adding the drug?

Jason was angry that Danny was just another kid the adult around him failed. But now Danny was one of those adults, and it's killed him to admit it, but he would still shoot Danny in order to stop the cycle.

Bruce, after confirming the cake was delicate, shared a slice with his youngest, who adored the flavor. It was the best cake he's ever had. Such a waste of talent on crime.

At least the Bats had a new lead. Vlad Masters and his mysterious rise to wealth. They would get him and Danny off the streets.

Danny is miles away, fanning his blushing face as his sister demands more information of the cute baker boy that knew how to flirt with protection ghosts. )

( Part 1) (Part 2), (Part 4)

[loki-cees-all]

Keeping Score {TVA!Loki x Female Reader One-Shot}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link

Pairing : TVA!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : You’re stressed, you’re exhausted, you’re sick and tired of absolutely everything right now. Loki decides that the best way to distract you from all of that is to make you count how many times he makes you come. 

W/c : 2.2k words

Content / Warnings : Soft Dom!Loki, established relationship, smut, fingering. 

Author's Note : Welp. Since I’ve been just a massive ball of stress and nerves lately, I thought I’d write something about Loki’s lap to help calm me down. (Spoilers: It just made me riled up in a very different way. Oops!) Enjoy! <3

18+ Only - Minors DNI

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

“How many times is that now, darling?” 

Loki’s question sounded like it came from dozens of miles away even though he’d murmured it directly against the shell of your ear. His words sloshed in your head as it lolled back against his broad shoulder, and your shaky breath caught in your throat. Sweat coated your brow, your heart thundered in your chest. Your muscles clenched uncontrollably, and your toes felt like they’d been curled into a permanent and formally unnatural position. Your thighs, spread wide and dangling over each armrest of his tufted wingback chair, trembled and shook helplessly. 

Behind you, Loki’s presence was even, firm, solid. You could feel the steady thrum of his heart against your back, his restrained breath ghosting against your neck in a constant rhythm. Despite the cool aura he normally projected, you knew he was just as excited as you were - from the way his thighs tensed underneath yours, to how his rock-hard cock throbbed against your bare ass from underneath his trousers. His voice was low and hoarse, but still measured, still somewhat under his control - but he was absolutely loving this little game. 

“Well, pet? Are you going to answer me or not?” 

A soft little moan was all you could manage to respond with. You desperately wanted to answer, but right now, you simply lacked the brainpower to give a coherent one. Divine and relentless pleasure still radiated up and down your spine with each featherlight stroke of his fingers against your soaked cunt; he hadn’t stopped touching you since the last one, and you felt like you were liquefying in his lap; maintaining a solid form in the presence of all this ecstasy was just too much effort. 

And that was exactly what you had asked for tonight, wasn’t it? 

Specifically, what you had said was that you didn’t want to be capable of thinking for a while. You wanted to be so very drunk and dumb, from both lust and pleasure, to be so thoroughly touched and explored that the stress of TVA case files and incident reports and the perpetual lies over your very own existence were nothing more than a distant memory. 

Due dates, timelines, the anxieties of life itself, and the horrors of the massive problems the TVA currently faced - you wanted it all to mean nothing to you anymore. Just for a moment, you wanted a tiny flicker of peace inside this wretched little cosmos, and your lover was the only one who could give that to you. 

Loki, of course, had then turned that request into a delightful little game: how many times could he make you come before you simply lost count of them all? 

After your quick and enthusiastic agreement to this evening’s activity, you soon found yourself seated comfortably in the God of Mischief’s lap. His nimble fingers had removed your clothing in a flash, leaving you bare and exposed while he remained in his normal TVA uniform - just the way you liked it. You absolutely loved being naked while he remained clothed; for some strange reason, it reminded you that no matter the problem, that no matter how dire the circumstances seemed, Loki still had everything under control - and that made your lack of it so very comforting. 

Once you were ready, he’d started off by cupping your breasts while he kissed your neck. Both thumbs brushed delicately against your quickly stiffening nipples, and you’d squirmed in his lap while your cunt clenched around nothing. Instinctively, you’d moved to squeeze your thighs together and give yourself some kind of pressure to roll against, but Loki had instantaneously put a stop to that. His large hand had gripped the inside of your thigh and separated it from the other, and you could feel his hungry eyes devouring the sight of your rapidly dripping sex from over your shoulder. 

From there, his other hand snaked its way down, over your ribs and down past your belly to graze your clit. He’d moved slowly, taking his time to thoroughly tease and stimulate the area, caressing gently back and forth with just the barest hint of pressure. On the next pass through, he pressed a little bit harder, collecting your ever-growing arousal and spreading it around with his fingertips. He’d let out a groan of appreciation, so deep and so feral, that it had made you come for the first time tonight. 

It wasn’t a big orgasm, but it was enough to stretch and loosen the muscles of your body, leaving you relaxed, comfortably warm and somewhat limp in his lap; a nice little warm-up climax, Loki had always called it. With a devilish grin, he’d calmed and soothed your mind until it passed, whispering sweet nothings and reassurances while you’d trembled. And once it was over, he’d repeat the process again, upping the ante with each cycle, pressing a little bit harder and moving a little bit faster, cranking the intensity of each subsequent climax higher and higher. 

He’d alternate increasing the speed of his fingers, their angle, and then their depth. The filth he’d whisper as he drew each orgasm out would become even dirtier, and the praise he’d murmured afterwards would somehow be way more celestial and glorious than it had any right to be. The ambrosian tones in his voice rolled in waves, from rough to demulcent, shifting in sync with the euphoric fireworks all bursting simultaneously inside your spine, and then simmering patiently together before the next spark set them off again. 

“Come on, love. Don’t tell me the game is over already…” As his lips grazed the cartilage of you ear, you let out a dazed whimper. The hand gripping your thigh slid up to your throat, and his fingers extended to tilt your chin towards him. He knew full well that the game wasn’t over yet, because your safe word was still tucked securely in its bed - and there was no way you were going to utter it now. 

The blurred angles of your beautiful God danced within your heady vision. Your eyelids fluttered open and closed, trying to will his features to become fixed again so you could admire him fully. Eventually his lopsided brow slowly came into view, arched perfectly over his deep green and wandering eyes. A roguish glint had etched itself deep inside his irises, and his lips were curled in a esurient but disciplined manner. He was gorgeous and stoic, sensual and vivacious, and he could easily do this all night if you had wanted him to. 

A heavy breath tumbled from your parted lips, and your answer was both murmured and dreamy. “No…no, it’s not over yet…”

“That’s good. That’s very good…” Loki hummed his approval, softly dragging his knuckles along your cheek. “But I’m still going to need a number, darling…how many times have you come undone on my fingers tonight?” 

He punctuated his question with a slight increase of pressure against your clit, and you shuddered in response. The backs of your thighs pulled against the leathered armrests of his chair as you shifted in his lap, and your fingers clenched tighter around the straps of his sword holster. Your hips writhed uncontrollably with the circular motions of his fingers, and you moaned out something incoherent, hoping that would suffice for the time being. 

“Such a silly little girl…” Loki teased with a chuckle. His fingers shifted tempo, adding speed along with the increased pressure. “We both know that was nonsense…” 

“Jesus Christ, I - ” Your gasp was cut off by another moan, and your lower half arched itself off from his lap to roll harder against his touch. Another orgasm was building quickly, and you craved it like the sea needed the sky. 

“Close, but that’s not quite my name, nor what I asked for…” Loki tsked. His words oozed elegance and charm, in direct contrast to the image of you spread wide in his chair, your slickened and swollen cunt still begging for even more stimulation somehow. 

“Oh, fuck - Loki!” you moaned as he changed tactics and slipped two fingers inside you. This time your eyes shot open to watch as he buried them, and then slowly drew them out. Arousal coated the digits, sparkling in the dim candlelight of your private quarters, and then he was calmly pushing them back in again. You clenched hard around his fingers and felt yourself growing even more impossibly wet as they curled and effortlessly reached all the right places to make the next orgasm that much more powerful. 

“Answer me, girl,” he groaned, becoming more breathless himself as you became more excited. He pressed his lips against your ear and buried his nose against your scalp. “Give me the number…”

“Six! Five! Seventeen!” you cried out, not caring if any of them were the right answer. Your heartbeat was out of control, your lungs were heaving for oxygen as gasoline filled your veins. Every bit of you was tightened, clenched, stiff and sticky. His fingers were relentless, pushing you to your absolute limits, and you wanted to exist in this blissful state for the rest of your life. 

“Oh, you’re such a dirty, filthy girl. You love this, don’t you?” He slipped another finger inside you. Three of them now stroked you from the inside, over and over again, while his thumb continued massaging your clit on the outside. “You love coming, you love being a mess, you love being so lecherous, don’t you?” 

Your eyes rolled back into your head as his other hand curled around your throat again. The words TVA no longer had any meaning to you. You forgot your own name, you forgot his name. There was nothing left inside your brain, and the pleasure was so intense that you couldn’t even remember why you’d wanted this in the first place. “Once! Twice! 87 times!” 

Loki laughed, and suddenly withdrew his fingers to delicately caress your clit with them instead. “Come now, pet. We both know those aren’t the right answers…” 

The lack of pressure was jarring, and your eyes widened in shock. You let out the most pathetic of whimpers, slamming your hand on top of his in a desperate plea for his previous pace to resume, but it was pointless. He wouldn’t acquiesce. 

“What if I don’t let you come again until you answer correctly, hmm? Would you like that?”

You whimpered again, squirming and shifting to get the pressure back. You turned, nuzzling your face against his without caring about how pathetic you looked. “Please? Please let me come again?” 

Loki groaned, and pulled you back down to sitting. Your full weight was back on his legs and hips, and his cock was somehow even harder than it had even been before. “Fine. I’ll give you a hint, love…Not once, not twice, not three times…” 

His breath was heady and hot against your lips. He was dying to make you come again, just as much as you were ready to explode. That was what separated him from everyone else, and just one of the things that had made you forever devoted to this God of Chaos. 

“Four…” you whispered correctly. “Four times…” 

As soon as the last syllable was uttered, Loki was crushing his lips against yours. His fingers slipped back inside you, and he kissed and fucked you until your fifth orgasm reached its precipice. A bolt of lightning shot up your spine, burning and convulsing every muscle you had as you came again, harder than any other time before. 

In your mind, the seas parted and the clouds disappeared. An aurora unleashed itself between the tendrils of your nerves, and your entire body thrashed in sheer and utter pleasure. Loki held you firm as you spasmed in his lap, wrapping one arm around your waist as his fingers pumped for a few more moments, then slowly withdrew to caress you so very gently in a soothing motion. 

You shivered and melted, moaning and whimpering against his lips as they moved to your cheek and then down to your neck. His heart thundered against your back, and his breath was as shaky as yours while you tried to recover. Your thighs were still shaking uncontrollably when he gently guided them off the armrests and pushed them closed. 

“I love you…” you murmured dizzily as he turned you to nestle back against his chest. He was so strong and comfortable and protective like this, and he smelled like stardust and the deepest, greenest forest. 

Could you actually remember what forests smelled like, or were you just dreaming that you could? It didn’t matter; they were all the same thing, after all. 

“I love you too…” Loki answered softly. His lips brushed against your temple, and his secure arms wrapped tightly around you. 

Loki - that was his name. That was the only thing in your head now. Deadlines and existential dread were nothing more than faint nightmares, long since forgotten. A thing of the past, a thing you’d just made up one night when your imagination got away from you. 

Loki was now the only thing that mattered, the only thing worth focusing on. And that was basically what you had asked for, wasn’t it?

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

Click here to be added to my Loki fic tag list! 💚

[ghosts-bandwagon]

headcanons of the bois+ könig with a reader who is quite young to be at the 141, but they soon realize that they're not as innocent as they look like? i hope this is an appropiate request : )

Ooh! We love a badass 😭❤️ (I wasn’t sure if this was meant to be platonic or romantic but I tried to make it so it can be read as either)

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

Honestly thoroughly impressed

You clicked instantly with Gaz and Soap, and that didn’t exactly fill him with confidence

He’d passed you off as a young and reckless kid, he wasn’t exactly eager to have you in his squad but who’s he to argue orders

(That’s a lie, he voiced his concerns to Price who told him to trust you)

But then he saw you on the field, focused, precise, deadly, and absolutely lethal if you found your back against the wall

After you seeing you take down a group of men at least twice your size and walk away relatively unscathed, he decided to take you under his wing

He’d train with you constantly, on the mats, in the range, in the gym and you’d take his lessons in stride, he’s not doing it to hone you into an even deadlier weapon

He’s sharpening your skills so you can come back to him in one piece

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

When you were first introduced to the team, he had his reservations but took it upon himself to protect you, no matter what

Especially after you so happily laughed at his jokes

So when you were shipped out together and you provided the most excellent cover fire he’s ever experienced, he’s heavily rethinking his initial judgement of you

He’s reconsidering it even more when he saw you single-handedly cleared the floor while supporting him on your shoulder

“Steamin’ Jesus, didn’t see that comin’” not only was he referring to the surprise attach, but to the lethal force you used to handle the situation

“That why you got me, Soap, I’ve got you.” You beamed up at him, and his heart melted.

Bad ass or not, he still vowed to protect you.

John Price:

He’s not as surprised as the rest of them, he read through your file, saw your accomplishments in the academy

He wasn’t as surprised but his expectations were certainly high, that didn’t mean he didn’t feel any less obligated to keep you safe

Still, when you came at your opponents with deadly accuracy and precision he’s only ever seen from Ghost, he’s a little aghast, definitely not in a bad way though

He’s 100% impressed, his expectations were exceeded but now he had a different reason to worry about you

So to help you stay as safe as possible, he paired you with Ghost to strengthen your training, he doesn’t want you to hurt yourself needlessly

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

Absolutely blindsided

If you look babey, and you sound babey, then you are babey

So when Price paired you with him, he definitely had his reservations

But seeing you in action was a completely different story. He honestly struggled to believe that he was watching the same person he’d just had coffee with this morning

You’re telling me this lethal one person army was sharing memes and TikTok’s with him this morning??? Unreal.

At the same time, he’s pretty young looking himself and can relate to being judged because of that. So he feels bad for second guessing your strength

He’s definitely asking you for pointers when you get back to base

König:

Not surprised but still a little surprised, he knows firsthand that appearances aren’t always what they seem, so when he was told you were a force to be reckoned with, he believed it. But still quietly promised himself to keep both eyes on you.

So when you were shipped out together, he was a little too focused on trying to protect you that he left himself open to injury

And then he saw it

He saw every ounce of your prowess. You were on a warpath, doing everything possible, single-handedly, to clear the area so the two of you could leave. You came back to him, breathless, and enchanting. You stretched your arm out to him, keeping an eye over your shoulder,

“Come on, big guy, let’s get you up.”

And here I- agh- thought I’d be protecting you.” He teased, groaning as he accepted your hand and helped himself up. You braced yourself as you pulled him upright,

“Maybe next time, Köni. For now, I’ve got you.” You laughed, flashing him a bright smile. Next time, he’d have your back. He swears it.

[vcnillazelda]

Hi! ^^ I don't know if you're still taking requests. I'm kind of new around here.

So If you can, I'd like to ask for headcanons or a scenario where Ghost / Soap / König has a crush on a recruit girl who is a very skilled sniper, but is constantly underestimated and even excluded by other military personnel for being short and mute?

ghost, soap and könig crushing on mute! recruit! reader

tags: pining, eventual relationship/getting together, confessions, protective! simon, könig’s is really long i’m sorry 😭

johnny and könig under cut

a/n: aaaaa this is adorable

✞———————❖———————✞

ghost

he’s nervous around you ngl

full on like palms sweaty and mild stammering it’s so cute

the fact you’re mute is kind of appealing to him, he likes your company because you don’t bother him like johnny does, you’ll listen if he speaks and offer some communication sometimes albeit his sign language is rusty

the moment he realised he’s in love with you is the first mission you went on. he’s seeking you out, knowing he can’t ask your location because you couldn’t respond. he gets a little anxious due to the lack of communication, it’s what keeps him sane, knowing his colleagues are okay.

he gets you a special radio so you can communicate better, putting an extra button on so you could beep it. one for yes, two for no, three for ‘i’m in danger’, yet simon’s the only one to know about that last one

is extremely impressed by your aim, the moment he saw a sliver of a man in a window you took him down.

back on base, he notices other rookies leaving you out of training, so you’d have no one to train with.

pulls you from that training session and offers private training with him (1. because he wants to help and feels bad you’re being ostracised, 2. because he wants to spend time with you and be close to you).

when he confessed to you and asked if you felt the same he thought it would be the end of everything, but you gave him a kind smile and nodded- simon has never been so happy

he’s nervous about dating, it’s been a long time and he’s not exactly a model lover or a ‘good man’, so you’ll have to be a little patient with him

soon after dating, he sticks around you all the time, hovering in your space whilst you’re practicing longer distance shots

no one dares to leave you out of anything when he’s by your side <3

-

johnny

he immediately befriends you, happily chatting away- he does enough talking for the both of you

doesnt realise you’re mute at first, he starts to think you don’t like him until you give him a note explaining your situation, he’s so relieved

people leaving you out? not when johnny’s here! he’ll argue with people before pulling you from that training group and into his own- he convinced price pretty easily due to your file being full of good comments from higher ups + your aim was incredible

is literally your best friend when you join 141 and then ghost team, he’s all smiley and talks for you

he doesn’t even need to communicate with you anymore to talk for you, he’s got a sixth sense for that type of thing it’s crazy

the moment he realised he loved you was when he was done arguing with someone about excluding you, then when he walked back to you, you had a sweet smile on your face, thanking him

because you’re short, he’ll 100% use your head as an armrest btw

he confesses in a pretty old-school way, a note, flowers and a sheepish grin on his face

when you hug him tight and nod he’s over the moon, scooping you into a bear hug and kissing your cheek

he’s much more straightforward and quick than simon, so if you feel your relationships moving too fast you’ve got to tell him lol

adores you and always praises your aim on missions

will always stick up for you, no matter what.

will want you to meet his family- and he comes from a large scottish family so be ready for that 😭

will get slightly jealous when you befriend his baby brother, agreeing to play games with him- this wasn’t meant to happen, you two just clicked and now johnny’s stuck between you two

gets all clingy afterwards, asking for your attention back- he’s so childish sometimes aidjdifjdfkdien

loves going out to places with you, so 100% your first date is in a nice restaurant tucked away in a nook in his hometown :)

-

könig

when he sees you being openly left out of things he genuinely feels for you, considering he was heavily bullied in school

he even gets left out of things now, and he’s one of the top snipers on the force

approaches you, hoping he doesn’t look to intimidating, and asks if you want to train with him

he’s dreading you saying no, but when you smile and accept he’s quite happy

he’s used to training alone, so there’s not much conversation as the two of you work on your aim

eventually, after a few training sessions, he strikes up a few conversations.

gets extremely anxious when you don’t respond, because he’s too busy looking down his scope to look at you, and drops it

you catch on that he’s put off and give him a small note explaining you’re mute

he’s so happy you don’t hate him because deep down he wants to be friends

soon after becoming friends, you don’t care that you’re being left out of things because you just blow them off and go hang out with your extremely tall austrian friend :)

the height difference between you two is very noticeable so some other operators start calling you two ‘big and small’ 😭

you’re the first person he tells his name to, he wants you to trust him and also wants you to know he trusts you

takes time out of his day to learn sign language so the two of you can talk easier, it’s really sweet to peer into his room and see him slowly practicing hand movements

the moment he realised he loved you was when the two of you were in his room, some soft music playing as you wrote something in your journal- you looked perfect in the lamplight and he wanted to kiss you

gets extremely anxious over the idea of liking you more than a friend, he doesn’t want to lose this friendship and has never actually dated anyone before considering he’s such a loner

he asks you out in a completely different way. leaves a note on your bed but isn’t there at all, doesn’t want to face rejection.

it’s easier on him because if you do reject him he can just pretend it never happened because he wasn’t there

when you sign the note saying ‘yes :)’ and leave it on his bed he’s so happy, immediately running to the practice range and hugging you

people ask what happened because it’s so out of character for him to hug someone, and he’ll just state that something good happened

is a very hands on, clingy lover. he’s never been in a relationship before and he didn’t realise at the time how starved he was for any type of affection that wasn’t maternal (he’s a mommas boy come on now)

speaking of which, if you agree to meet his mother he’s gonna kiss you immediately. is so delighted because off base his mother is the most important thing to him

she’s lovely too, never pressures you to talk despite not entirely understanding why you’re mute. gives you plenty of austrian food you’ve probably never had before and gives amazing hugs, she’s so happy her son found a girlfriend :)

[starsofang]

141 and how they help you

tf141 helping you out due to you having a late/absent parent who wasn’t around to teach you

Ghost, who helps you with anything maintenance related around your house. Broken faucet? Shower not working? He comes by the moment you call, bringing along a set of tools. He shows you each and every one, explaining their purpose. He teaches you how to fix things on your own for whenever he’s not around, but if he is around? He doesn’t want you lifting a finger and expresses his displeasure when he hears about you attempting to fix a broken doorknob on your own.

He’ll grunt in disapproval if he sees you accidentally cut your finger or made whatever’s broken worse, shaking his head and gently pushing you aside to work on it himself.

“Don’t mind teachin’ you how to fix things, love, but I’m goin’ to be the only one doin’ it for you when I’m here, understood?”

Price, who helps you when you’re having car troubles. Doesn’t matter if it’s something small like an oil change, or something big like a broken part. He loves it when you call him, and he never fails to show up right away when you need it.

He doesn’t teach you like Ghost does, and that’s strictly because he wants to be the only one to do it. If he teaches you how to fix it on your own, you won’t need him around anymore to help, and he can’t have that. He certainly won’t let you go to the mechanic, either. Besides, he prefers it this way whenever you come out in the middle of him working on your car with a cold bottle of water and that lovely smile of yours as you thank him for helping you out.

“S’never a problem, love. Better to call me than a mechanic, aye? Got you a nice view, too.”

Gaz, who loves to help you with anything you’re unsure about. Pumping air in your tires at the gas station? Don’t worry, he’ll show you. Oh no, there’s a bug in your house and you’re too scared to kill it? He’s already on his way, leave the door unlocked! Doesn’t matter if he’s halfway across town, he’ll drop whatever it is he’s doing to drive all the way to your place because he can’t have you dealing with it by yourself.

They may be minuscule things you need help with, but he doesn’t care about that. He’s happy to answer your call and be there as soon as possible no matter the request or how silly you think it is.

“You’re not being a burden to me, sweetheart, I’d love to help. I’ll swing around and be there in five, yeah?”

Soap, who loves to teach you about tech savvy things. He knows you’re not the most knowledgeable when it comes to important things like your taxes, but don’t fret, he’ll file them for you as long as you sit with him and watch! He’ll even help you apply for credit cards because he knows you don’t have one, and he doesn’t want you to worry about finances, not when he’s around.

Or if your computer is acting up? Maybe it’s laggy, or pop-ups keep showing up on your screen. No need, he’ll sit for hours if he has to just to ensure that your laptop is safe and secure. Bonus points if he can’t fix it and he buys you a new laptop instead.

“Dinnae worry ‘bout payin’ me back, lass/lad. Ye needed a new one anyway.”

—

had to learn how to pump the air in my tires by myself today bc i don’t have my dad to do it, my boyfriend lives out of state, and had the thought of “man i wish a dude were here to do this for me” which is how this popped up in my head bc 141 would never let me pump my tires alone </3