GUESS WHOS BACK?! BACK AGAIN? SHADY'S BACK TELL A FRIEND!!!
It is official I am back from my unfortunately long hiatus that I realize I didn't tell anyone about...sorry about that y'all. But I do want to say a very special thank you to all those who checked in on me, thank you truly...you have no idea how much you aided in helping me get back to a proper mental state.
I will be getting back to posting and being active on this page again now so stay tuned for more posts in the future.
Coming back to binge reading 3 Alec fics was Aaamazinggg thank you!! If anyone wants to reblog or retag me in old fics that were posted during my hiatus that would be greatly appreciated I kinda list track of all the fics I kept telling myself I would "come back and read later" lol or if you just wanna catchup and talk my page is open again (not that it was technically closed lol) but love you guys!!!!
Hello my lovely Paw Prints!!! i suddenly had some inspiration to write something after doom scrolling Biketok at like 2am. So I bring you Biker!Alec x Biker!Reader. Im going to be very honest with y'all, i don't like this. I feel like it's kind of boring and long but i wanted to post it in hopes some of my writing buddies can give me some tips and incase you guys actually like it and im in my head. regardless enjoy!!
Warnings: Out of character Alec. as I have stated Reader is latina in all of my Fics, it's not really present here but if i decide to write a part 2, it will show slightly more. Just wanted to remind you.
It's a calm night in Venice Italy with clear skies and warm breezes. Alec enjoys his night on his bike, a Ducati Panigale V4. A well known and high demand Liter bike that he surprisingly rides responsibly. Alec decides it's time to ride back to Volterra, to the volturi castle. looking down he notices he doesn't have enough fuel so he pulls into a gas station nearby. As he pulls up to a pump he sees three other bikes and smiles to himself. As he is fueling up the three riders of those bikes and one backpack walk out of the small convenience store. One of them noticed Alec and his bike, pointing it out as he and his friends walked up to Alec.
“Hey man, nice bike! Panigale V4?”
Alec flips the visor on his helmet up so they can hear him better. “Thank you. Yes it is, I'm assuming those bikes over there are yours?”
The fellow bikers look over at their bikes and smile proudly. “Yeah those are ours. They’re not Liter bikes like yours but hey, they're still fun.
Alec chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “lower cc bikes aren't inferior in any way. I know there are a lot of stronzos (assholes in italian, I hope) out there that say otherwise but those are the same guys that can't handle their liter bike or one in general.”
The fellow bikers laugh thankfully. “Thanks man. Oh by the way, do you have any plans for the rest of the night? We're all heading to a meet up about 30 minutes from here. You're more than welcome to join us; I know your Ducati would be really appreciated there.”
Alec thinks about it for a brief second. He was supposed to just fill up real quick and head back to Volterra but something about joining these humans actually sounds enticing for once. What is going on with him? “I was just going to head back home for the night…”
Alec doesn't get to finish his sentence when the backpack of one of the bikers interrupts him. “Home?! What? No! The night is still young. C'mon just come to meet with us for a little bit and if you really don't like it then you can go home.” Despite the convincing tone this backpack has, he promised his sister it wouldn't be a late night. Jane has never really supported or accepted this “hobby” her younger brother has come to enjoy. She never understood why her brother would willingly spend the amount of money he has spent on these death machines, despite being vampires and can't exactly be killed on one like weak humans can (her words not his).
“I promised my sister-” He interrupted again. “Cmon man it'll be fun…”
Alec normally has no problem saying no or just not acknowledging requests or humans…or both. However for some reason something is telling him to go with these humans. It couldn't hurt to enjoy one night with his bike and fellow bikers that share the same hobby. “Alright, i suppose this one time-”
“Yes! Cmon let's go before he changes his mind!” The backpack says excitedly. They take a couple minutes to connect to each other's Cardo so that they can all communicate with each other on the way there. As they mount their bikes one of them speaks into the cardo addressing Alec. “Hey man, you should give us a quick rev?” Alec smiles and revs his bike. The group all cheer and he revs his bike again this time louder slowly leading into a strong rev bomb.
Just as he finishes another bike ride down the street and revs as well. Catching everyone's attention with the powerful engine. Alec questions silently to himself “was that an R1?” Needless to say his attention is piqued but he can't catch up to that bike without leaving this new group behind; and he doesn't know where this meet up is oh well I guess. The thirty minute ride to the meet up was rather quick as they arrived smoothly. Alec pulls in and parks his bike next to everyone else. The amount of people here is both nauseating and interesting. He'll admit despite having this hobby with both bikes and cars he never really cared to adventure into car meets. mostly due to the amount of humans and now that he's here he regrets not putting in his contacts. “so much for not needing the contacts. it'll be a quick ride, i should know better.” he mumbles to himself when one of the bikers from the gas station stands next to him “i can tell by your stiff posture you don't go to meet ups very often huh?” Alec simply nods his head in agreement.
“ Oh by the way your contacts are cool!” This compliment catches him off guard.
“your colored contacts? Cause your eyes are red and that's obviously not natural so I'm assuming they're contacts.” right. Maybe he can play this off after all. “ yeah of course. thank you.”.
About 45 minutes go by and Alec is surprisingly enjoying this meet up. turns out he actually likes attention when it's mostly directed towards his bike. He's in the middle of a conversation when the loud roar of an engine is heard with a few sirens not far behind. Everyone's attention turns toward the street. As the bike gets closer it can be heard downshifting, trying to slow down enough. The biker takes the turn aggressively and almost crashes as they enter the meet up and hide in the large crowd. Just then everyone can see Four Police cars racing down the street completely passing the meet up, clearing the biker that what was running. Low and behold its the same bike that passed the gas station alec was at and he was correct it was an R1. Alec watches from afar as everyone is both stunned and impressed with this random Bikers entrance, control, and guts to run from the police. The Biker flips up the visor on their helmet to reveal a woman is the rider of this powerful bike. Alec can't quite pin what it is about this new rider that keeps him from averting his attention. Something in his chest moves in almost a flutter but why? There is literally nothing special about this rider. He clears his throat and forces his attention away just as a beautiful Porsche enters the meet. The distraction doesn't last long as he feels eyes burning into him. He turns his head to catch Reader already staring.
As they lock eyes it clicks, there was a reason he was so easily convinced to join the meet, and why there was weird almost pull-like feeling to you. You're his mate. Well this is going to be interesting…
Neither of you can bring yourselves to break eye contact. You tilt your head and blink, smirking under your helmet. shamelessly you scan your eyes up and down this man's form that is unfortunately hidden under all of his riding gear, you wave teasingly at him. His eyes tell you everything as he squints and smirks. tilting his head up in a flirty nod. Your direct line of sight to this tall stranger is quickly ruined as a group of people crowd around you practically begging for attention with their questions and pure amazement at you and your bike.
An hour goes by and Alec catches himself looking for you again. He'll never admit that he got a little disappointed when he couldn't find you or your bike. Just as he starts to give up and throws a long leg over his bike, turning on his bike you pop up. “leaving already? I figured you would at least want to talk to me after just staring.” You say with a noticeable spanish accent. He smiles and turns to face you.
“Actually I caught you staring first so I think it's only fair I know the name of the creep with a staring problem.” His words catch you off guard. There is no way he just called you a creep with a staring problem. you open your mouth to speak then quickly close it, sucking your teeth and smirking. Well that's the first time a man actually leaves you speechless and without a comeback. “Y/N” You hold your hand out for him to shake. He takes your hand and introduces himself, “ Nice to meet you Y/N I'm A-” “Alec Volturi.” you interrupt him and finish his name for him. “How do you know my name?” You look at him in disbelief. “I mean as if your red eyes aren't a dead giveaway enough that you're not human. If you truly believe there aren't people out there that don't already know of your name or at the bare minimum your reputation? I'd hate to tell you, you live under a rock.” Alec looks at you, this time it's his turn to be shocked. “ Yeah you really should've worn some contacts at the bare minimum. You're just lucky these stupid humans believe anything.” you say with a teasing giggle. Alec smiles proudly and nods looking away.
“Your R1 is really nice. Is it stock?” Alec asks to make conversation. “No…well kind of. I'm slowly upgrading. I just added a new exhaust pipe but when I got it the first thing I did was get it wrapped.” You explain the modifications on your bike with such excitement, Alec can't help but smile to himself. “The original color on this bike was horrendous when I bought it. So I immediately got it wrapped in purple. I still have a list of cosmetic mods I want to get done but all that can be done with time.” You ramble on without realizing. Alec, being the silent observer he notices every twitch and motion. He notices the way your body presents its excitement, despite you trying to stay calm. A major feature he notices is your heartbeat. You have a heartbeat, you’re human. Then he hears the blood running through your veins, and groans mentally. ‘of course she's human. Just my luck I got a human mate.’ He's conflicted on one hand you're his mate; specifically chosen for him (the bike enthusiasm is a dead give away) but on the other hand you are human and he doesn't exactly enjoy the company of humans. Alec is pulled from his thoughts when you start circling his bike. “Your Ducati is beautiful! We should race sometime” You challenge yourself confidently. Alec scoffs, “As fast as your R1 is…respectfuly you're not beating me in a race. The Ducati V4 beats the R1 in raw power.” You smile proudly and roll your eyes “Thats cute you know your bike's stats but see my R1 is tuned with some of its stock features, whereas your Ducat is all stock. I think it's a fair race. I mean unless you're scared to get gapped by me.”. Alec catches your challenge and accepts. “Then let's run it. right here right now.”. Normally you never turn down a race, unfortunately your circumstances out weigh your ability. “I wish I could but I only stopped here to lose the cops that were on me. im actually supposed to be meeting my family for some thing, here in Italy. which reminds me I actually have to get going!” You say in a rush suddenly remembering your family has an important meeting with very important people in Italy. You quickly get back on your bike and rush out of the meet revving your engine a couple times as you say goodbye. Alec doesn't have time to stop you or ask any questions before you're gone. Suddenly his phone vibrates in his pocket with a single text from his sister.
Sister: “Come Back Now!!”
Alec wastes no time in getting back on his bike and heading back to Volterra. When suddenly something pops in his head ‘She's not human. She can't be!’. You knew who he was, mentioned his “reputation”. You knew what his red eyes meant. You know about the supernatural world? But the only way you would know about this is if you're a part of it too…but how? ‘She has a heartbeat. I could hear the blood running in her veins. She can't be a vampire with a heartbeat and blood; but she can't be human and know about us. So…what are you?’
something, something Simon with a woman so soft He is afraid of her.
Tensions in the Riley household were high. It wasn’t because he was aggressive or mean. Hell, he didn’t even raise his voice at his woman. No, Simon was simply scared to death of her.
It wasn’t out of fear for his safety, but rather the opposite. She was precious and kind, and she… cried. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and the thought of being the reason for those tears terrified him more than any fight in a foreign country ever could.
On a quiet Saturday morning, Simon rolled out of bed, feeling the chill from the lack of comforter. He sat upright, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His Bird had always been the type to wake up at the crack of dawn just to have breakfast on the table, despite his typical protests that she needed more sleep. He knew exactly where to find her.
He stood and walked through the small house to the perfectly tidy kitchen, finding her bent over the stove, cooking something that smelled delicious, probably bacon…god he loved bacon.
“Baby,” he rumbled, his gruff voice extra deep given he’d just woken up.
When she turned to face him, his heart nearly sank to his feet. Tears. Why were there tears? No, no, no.
“Bird, what’s wrong?” he asked, quickly crossing the kitchen to pull the sniffling woman against his chest.
His mind raced. He had only just woken up; there was no way he could’ve done anything yet. Except... did he forget to take the trash out? Did he pull away and not cuddle her enough in his sleep? He had half worked up the nerve to just apologize for whatever crime he had certainly committed when she mumbled into his shirt.
“I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed. You wake up too early, Si,” her trembling little voice whispered.
She was crying because she wanted to surprise him. He would forever wonder what he had done to deserve this woman.
“I will take my arse right back to bed then, yeah?” he asked, pulling back a bit to look at her.
She nodded, wiping a tear away. She was too sweet for her own good, her heart too soft for the world he lived in.
“Yeah,” she sniffled.
And so, he did. Simon went and laid back down, all the while wondering how he got so lucky, how he actually managed to pull her, and more than anything, realizing that he could not possibly live his life without marrying her.
CoD Masterlist
An: my husband brought me breakfast in bed this morning, made my celiac ass gluten free pancakes so naturally it gave me a fic idea and I wrote it while I ate..... a round of applause for my husband everyone
Despite all the feral smut, kinky shit i reblog and talk about, I really do love me some domestic fluff. It brightens my day and makes me feel all warm inside.
Credits go to this author for writing an amazing domestic fluffy fic. Much love💕
could we perhaps have more obedient pup!reader and pup!Johnny trying to make them disobey Price?
Ooohhh!!! So [obedient pup!reader] had talked to soap about [disobeying price], right? Well what if he convinces them to try again?.
Soap had laughed when you told him about your attempts to disobey, genuinely fucking laughed. Apparently, you're not supposed to just tell your owner that you're disobeying. "No, I'm serious! I've never heard of a worse brat than you! C'mon, you didn't even try to resist him? Just a little bit?" Soap grins, and well...he is very convincing.
Which is how price ends up finally getting home, only to frown when you're not eagerly waiting at the door for him. Usually you love waiting for pats and kisses. Odd.
Price narrows his eyes when he opens his bedroom door, passing by your suspiciously empty crate.
"Pup...what are you doing?" He asks. You're sat on his bed, back straight and shaking with nervous energy. You had wanted to snuggle up in his scent, something You're not allowed to do usually, but the anxiety of breaking a rule left you waiting in limbo for price to find you.
"..." you don't say anything, soap said good brats resist, right? So...you shouldn't respond to his question?
"...pup. speak." Price crosses his arms, raising his brows in the same way he used to when he first became your owner. It makes your skin crawl because you know you're being bad, and you want to be good, but you also wanted to try being bad.
You settle on shaking your head, but your voice sounds apologetic even when you force out a "...no."
"Oh, I see." Price nods, stepping closer so he can lean into the bed with one knee "Been hanging out with Simon's mutt, huh? Trying out disobeying again?"
He sounds mostly amused now, and you can see hid smile, but you're still being bad. Finally, you let out an apologetic whimper and scamper off the bed. Price steps back to let you kneel at his feet and nuzzle into his shin.
"Aww, I know, I know. You just wanted to impress your playmate, huh?" He coos down at you. Scratching behind your pup ears "I'll find you a better influence later, go to your crate and calm down, pup."
While you settle down and happily rearrange the bedding in your crate, price makes sure to let simon know what a bad pup soap has been. He'll punish you for the disobedience, of course, probably limit your cuddle time on the weekends. Mostly, price is thinking about getting you a new playmate.
Reader who has nearly been punched on mutliple occasions because youre dead fucking silent.
Seriously. Its not a good idea to walk around a base full of traumatized soldiers without not so much as a scuff of shoes against floor. Jumpy, with deadly instincts, it was only a matter of time before you got sent to the infirmary with a dislocated shoulder. Price decides enough is enough, and comes up with a solution.
"A fucking bell? Are you serious?? Do I look like a pet to you, John?"
Kyle opens his mouth to comment but very quickly shuts up from the glare you give him. Price, for his part, stands firm in the decision. Holding up a collar with a cute little bell. It looks like the shit Johnny keeps in a shoebox under his bed. "You refuse to fix your sneaking problem, and my desk is full enough without your medical paperwork on it. You're wearing it."
So now you walk around base with the collar.
Well, not exactly. You wrap it twice around your wrist and wear it like a bracelet. Functionally the same, but far less humiliating. It doesn't stop the comments from your teammates, though, especially when they've got you on your knees.
"Cmon kitty, I've got some milk for you." Is Johnny's favourite line, because he can't take anything seriously. It's not like Kyle or Ghost are better, calling you their favourite kitten while you lick at their cocks. Unable to deny the arousal that pools at the humiliating treatment.
At least price is nice about it, lets you take the collar off because "I'll know where you are anyway, kitty. Now cmon, I have work to do." While he ushers you under his desk to cockwarm him.
SUMMARY: You choose a new pair of alphas over what you've come to know.
PAIRING: Poly!alpha!141 x omega!Reader x alpha!AleRudy
WARNINGS/INFO: 18+ MDNI | OMEGAVERSE AU | female!Reader; angst; a/b/o dynamics; hurt/comfort; cussing; smut; spit kink; bad Spanish translations; bonding; open end
Based on this little blurb. 🩶
You had a feeling it would happen someday if your packmates, the alphas who you’ve spent and shared most of your life with for the better part of the past three years, won’t finally make a move, make you theirs officially—but now that it happened eventually, you’re not quite sure how to tell them.
Perhaps you didn’t do enough? Didn’t make your intentions clear with none of them? The desire to be claimed, to belong, to be loved—always put off by Price, smiled at by Gaz, supported but never pursued by Soap, and straight up ignored by Ghost.
As you follow Simon and Johnny over the busy tarmac, your combat boots begin to feel heavy with each step you take that leads you further away from Alejandro and Rudy, the alphas who are now courting you and currently staying behind by the truck after saying their goodbyes to their foreign comrades.
Even then, you’d wondered if neither Simon nor Johnny found it odd when you chose not to say your own farewells to the other two alphas after finishing a successful operation, but again they stayed oblivious to the bond that has been blossoming between you and the Mexican soldiers since you’ve first stepped foot into Las Almas.
Just last night it was Alejandro who had told you that, perhaps it will be better if you’re the one to break the news to them, though assuring you: “We’ll always have your back, cariño,”.
And now, the harsh tug you’re currently experiencing deep down in your chest cavity, right behind your heart, only puts the last necessary nail in the coffin for you.
You’re staying.
As if on cue, your body works before your mind catches up—still both mentally and physically recovering from the mission—and you freeze in your steps, coming to an abrupt halt that causes Simon to glance over his shoulder, having noticed you in his peripherals like the vigilant alpha he is.
And it causes a chain reaction, when Johnny follows his leader's reaction, stopping dead in his tracks and following Simon’s line of vision until bright blue eyes settle on you, a puzzled look settling on his ruggedly chiselled face.
You speak up before either of them can: “This is goodbye... for now,” you tell them over the loud noises surrounding you on the airfield, and you try to keep your voice firm and steady, but it cracks at goodbye before your throat tightens painfully enough to make your eyes well up with tears.
Simon and Johnny share a long, meaningful look, having a full-on conversation with their eyes in a language you don’t speak like you’ve witnessed so many times before, and then they fully turn simultaneously before approaching you with purposeful steps that make you brace yourself for an argument.
“Whot’s tha’?” Simon asks, towering and gripping the straps of his bulky tac vest while tilting his masked head like a curious puppy. You know he’s just trying to give you another chance to change your words, but this time you won’t.
“Whaddaya mean by ‘goodbye’, bon?” Johnny chimes in, brows furrowed while his gaze flickers between you and then over your shoulder, eye narrowing as they land on their allies—friends—the alpha males still watching the scene unfold with crossed arms and squared shoulders—looking ready to step in any second if need be.
Johnny takes note of the sudden tension and dominance oozing off Alejandro and Rudy, how the comradery and friendliness from before has now seemingly disappeared soon as he and Simon approached you this time—as if they suddenly have a claim on you that your literal packmates don’t.
And just like that, it dawns on them like a physical blow to the chest.
Simon’s jaw clenches as he tries to reign in the rumbling growl building up in his chest while Johnny doesn’t bother to hide the snarl taking over his face, sharpening his features into something feral; both of their scents spiking in intensity, lacing the hot-humid air with sour pheromones, ready to scent mark and drag you onto the cargo plane with them if push comes to shove.
Your eyes widen at once, a deer caught in headlights, staring at the truck coming full speed at her.
“Ye’re comin’ home with us,” Johnny growls, gloved hands balling into tight fists at his sides to keep himself from simply snatching your wrist before Simon’s hand comes up to rest on his shoulder like a physical leash. “Easy there, Soap.”
Neither of them is angry with you, you can tell that much, but judging by their blown pupils and dominant stances, something strange is happening.
“I’m not coming with you. I’m–” Your heart thumps violently and your breath hitches momentarily, making it harder for you to get the words out as both men stare at you intensely, expecting you to make a choice that’d be in their favour.
But you’ve made your decision.
“I’m staying here... with Alejandro and Rudy. I have–I have already informed Price last night and asked for special leave,” you explain, fidgeting with your hands while your pulse thrums in your neck.
A strange sensation goes through your body as you speak those words; a buzzing energy rushing through your veins as you cut those emotional packbonds, now brittle by the years of neglect, to focus on the future waiting for you just a few yards away—a tiny seedling soaking up sunshine for the first time, finally stepping away from the trees who’ve drowned her in shadows, causing harm without even meaning to.
Johnny shakes his head slowly, disbelief settling on his face as the crease between his brows disappears, eyes softening. For a moment, it almost looks like something inside him shatters, as if he can feel it, too.
“No... please,” he breathes, reaching out to grasp your hand while his shoulders slouch. “Ye cannae jus’... do this, bon. Ye belong with us,” he squeezes your hand weakly, “–our wee omega.”
A soft whimper escapes your throat, one that has Alejandro and Rudy perk up with worry despite the distance, and one that makes Johnny’s eyes water—because he knows what it means. Your decision is final and it’s their own bloody fault.
They should’ve seen it coming, should’ve noticed the signs even amidst battle, and yet they didn’t; thinking they still had time.
“I’ll miss ye,” Johnny rasps before pulling you against his chest only to bury his face into your neck to inhale your sweet scent greedily, hoping it will brand itself into his nostrils—one last time. Warm blueberry tarte, honey-soaked linen, and freshly cut grass, a concoction now dulled by sadness, though still perfect, still—theirs. It makes his teeth itch to bite, to mark, and his chest feels heavy, unable to let you go just like that.
“Are ye sure, luv?” he mutters against your skin and his nose presses into your virgin scent gland in a way that makes you shiver. You nod meekly, eyes squeezed shut as you rub your face against his shirt, leaving your scent on him instinctively. Just for the flight home to make him feel better, you think. Always the good omega looking out for her pack.
“I’m sure,” you reply so quietly, you can barely hear it yourself. “It’s been inevitable from the moment I saw them... smelled them.”
You can’t see it, but your admission shatters them; cracks their ribcages open underneath their gear and stabs their hearts repeatedly until there’s nothing left but bloodied, torn muscle and shredded heartstrings—hurting even a cold one.
After another moment, Johnny releases you reluctantly; strong arms flexing with tension as they lower at his sides. He rests his forehead against yours, chuffs low in his throat—a quiet, sorrowful goodbye that rings in your ears until your tears drip down your cheeks.
He pulls back with a grimace when Simon squeezes his shoulder, like separating himself causes him physical pain, and he leaves your tears to be wiped away by your new alphas, though in every other situation, Johnny would’ve licked them off your skin with flagrant reverence.
“C’mon, Soap, ’s time to go,” Simon announces, giving his Sergeant a firm pat on the shoulder while his eyes never leave you. You peer up at him, head ducked with a hint of shame, tendons flexing in your neck at the tension.
Eventually, Johnny turns away with a pained snarl, speeding up the process like ripping off a band aid and pulling off scab, muttering profanities under his breath as he storms off towards the plane that will take them back to the UK—while Simon stays back, still staring down at you with those onyx eyes of his, though now they hold a kind of softness to them that leaves your whole system reeling.
“Lieutenant–” you rasp, and he huffs through his mask, making your jaw snap closed again.
His gloved hands come up to rest on your shoulders, the skeleton prints spanning wide, thumbs brushing your sensitive scent glands with a tenderness you’ve rarely experienced from him as he leans in to rest his forehead against yours, hardshell mask pinching into your skin.
“...’s olways been you, pet.”
Your breath stutters, eyes fluttering as you try to process his words while your fingers tremble to reach out and claw into his tac vest to keep him close—keep his scent near, the one no omega before you has found as enticing as you.
Too much, too rigid, like ice shards and gasoline fumes jabbing into your lungs with each deep inhale, rather warning off any potential mate than drawing them in.
It made you feel safe and that’s all that ever mattered to him.
Simon lets you go with practiced ease, shoves down his feelings even though his alpha is snarling, thrashing and howling behind his mask of indifference, but he cannot contain the sound that tears out of his throat, thank god muffled by the cloth covering his mouth—husky and unpractised like blunt nails scraping over gravel, a puppy learning to communicate—something akin to a whine, a sound you’ve never heard him nor any of them make.
Your eyes widen, synapsis and instincts firing in your brain, hissing at you to soothe and purr for him, for the alpha you’ve dared to hurt—but then the dirt on the tarmac scrunches under his boots as he turns, leaving his broad back for you to look after while a swooping feeling in your stomach makes you nauseous, and you swallow your pathetic whines, having lost the right to call for them.
There’s an invisible snap and you swear you can hear it, like a cruciate rupture knocking the breath out of you, loud as a gunshot and nasty, leaving you behind with a limp and quivering lips as you watch them walk away from you, though you can see the slight hobble in their own heavy steps.
That night, your new alphas make sure to help you—not to forget but distract you from the pain of severing your packbond instead.
Though, it’s hardly merely the bond that has broken your heart.
They bring you to their private quarters, invite you into their den, a ranch house on vast land, many klicks away from Las Almas, and give you time until the sun sets, and nightfall cools the temperature to something more bearable, to settle in and sort out some of the internal chaos wreaking havoc and lacing your scent with a bitter smack of sadness.
It is obvious that you’ve loved them all—all four of them with equal ferocity. You would’ve taken a bullet for each one, you’ve tended to their wounds, the ones you can see and the one you don’t, took care of their emotional needs, made sure your shared nest was always comforting and warm to them—and for what? To be replaced if another, perhaps more beautiful, sweeter, and docile omega comes along to take the place you should have been given freely and with an urgency bordering on alpha possessiveness?
You have loved them in the dark and it was good—until someone else showed you what the light can truly look like.
It’s easy and effortless.
Your instincts are no burden but a relief to them; the fact that you come from the same line of work only fuelling their desire to make you theirs. They’ve shown it with their eyes, in the way their chests puff out as they inhale your scents, two pairs of rough hands itching to grab and grope and keep.
And just as they do in the field, Alejandro and Rudy work as a team to shed you of your material layers first before peeling away metaphorical ones—until they have stripped you naked of both cloth and invisible barriers, leaving you raw and exposed to them as they devour you whole, slow and methodically.
Their scents are strong and unapologetically wild, and it doesn’t take long until it seeps into your pores to stay; engulfing you in a comforting blanket of burnt blue agave, leaving a taste of finely aged tequila in the back of your throat, dried cloves, chili and cardamom, reminding you of a homecooked meal waiting for you, and the promising musk of their heady desires, hidden beneath a touch of violent smoke rising from the end of a gun barrel—a barrel now pointed at you.
“Yes, you should weep for them, querida,” Alejandro murmurs against your temple as he cradles you against his bare chest; all warm skin and chiselled muscles. “Makes it easier to let go and focus on what’s in front of you.”
The white curtains sweep as a soft breeze sweeps through the spacious bedroom, coming through the open floor-to-ceiling windows; moonlight illuminating the room in semi-darkness as you lounge on the bed.
Between your legs, Rudy hums in agreement, trailing languid, open-mouthed kisses up your supple legs while you spread for him willingly, giving him more space to explore.
“Agreed,” he breathes against your dewy skin, feeling your skin pebble with goosebumps under his tongue as he licks a slow stripe over the sensitive scent gland on the inside of your left thigh, so, so close to your glistening sex.
He groans at your taste and starts rutting against the mattress, grinding his hips slowely, breathing out: “Díos.”
Your legs quiver and you squirm in Alejandro’s arms, a mere bunny embraced by two wolfs, though perhaps you’ve never felt safer—more wanted—in your life.
A whimper leaves your lips, perspiration building above your furrowed brows.
“Are you–” you swallow hard, unsure if it’s too soon to ask. “Will you–”
Alejandro kisses your temple, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Of course, we will,” he assures you, nose trailing along your hairline, “–just not tonight. It would be too much for you.”
Before disappointment can settle into your gut like a parasite, like another worry adding to your fragile soul, a petulant pout forming on your lips, Rudy is quick to distract you again by parting your outer folds with deft fingers to expose the little treat resting at the top of your pussy, leaving you hot-faced and gasping.
“Pinche... es hermosa, Ale,” Rudy mumbles under his breath, thumb stroking over your swollen clit with unfamiliar reverence. “Voy a probar un poco.”
Your breath hitches while Alejandro smiles against your skull, strong hands roaming over your torso and settling right below the curve of your tits—squeezing and groping your giving flesh lightly as he feels your thumping heartbeat beneath his palms.
“Mi conejita,” he growls before nipping at your earlobe. “I will fuck you once Rudy has prepared you for my cock, yes? Tell me how much you’d like that, cariño–”
The term of endearment, so cute and innocent, followed by pure filth, makes your pulse spike and your pussy throb with its own heartbeat—and then Rudy leans in with a shameless groan to slowly lick and suck at your clit, and the world tips upside down like your eyes rolling back into your skull.
The night progresses in a whirlwind of earth-shattering orgasms and whispered promises—and they manage to keep your mind off the past, giving you but a taste of your new reality.
Rudy eats your cunt as feverishly as Johnny, though less messy and more precise, like he has all the time in the world to learn and explore—and you realize that he does when his teeth graze over the scent gland of your inner thighs again, scraping the sensitive surface with his teeth and lapping up your essence while Alejandro warns him to slow down, let you breathe.
The second-in-command finishes on the mattress, his tan skin sweat-slicked and panting, his ruddy cock spurting a massive load into the white sheets—simply from licking at your sex.
You coo at him when you catch your breath, fingers tugging at his black, fluffy hair to pull him in for a kiss while Alejandro manhandles your legs, pushes them apart and drapes one thigh over his hip as he shifts his weight behind your back for a better angle.
“That’s it, querida, kiss your man,” Alejandro growls, squeezing the back of your neck while he strokes his own prick from base to tip, exhaling a shaky breath when he coats himself in your succulent slick.
Rudy’s tongue is tangling with yours and you can taste yourself on his saliva; messy and passionate, you suck on his tongue with a sensual purr, half-lidded eyes drinking in his wrecked, pretty face.
Alejandro grunts as he lines himself up with your dripping hole, drooling tip dragging through your swollen folds. “Escupir en su boca, hermano,” he orders, voice rumbling with a growl that has you keening, and Rudy is swift to cup your jaw, keeping your mouth open, all too eager to follow his Colone’s orders.
Your breath comes in sharp pants as you stick your tongue out, a breathy moan spilling out your chest as Alejandro thrusts his fat cockhead past your entrance, sinking in an inch or two only to pull out and repeat, your velvety walls swallowing him up with greed.
“Joder,” he groans huskily, resting his forehead against the back of your head.
“Eyes on me, cariño,” Rudy chuckles, giving your jaw a small squeeze. “Feels good, no?” His tawny eyes crinkle at the corners as you nod with your tongue still out, your eyes nearly crossing from pleasure. “Heh, so cute.”
And then Rudy tips your head back against Alejandro’s broad shoulder, making the other alpha watch with his thick cock now nestled and twitching deep inside of your cunt, as he spits a generous glob of saliva into your mouth.
“Now swallow,” he croons before dragging his spit-shiny lips down the column of your throat, feeling it bob against his nose as you swallow obediently.
Alejandro snarls against your shoulder blade, pupils blown with searing lust and possessiveness at the teasing display between you and Rudy, and his hands settle on your hips, keeping you in place on his lap as he begins to thrust his hips up, driving his throbbing cock into your welcoming heat with unbridled need and liquid fire simmering in his veins, spreading like a wildfire as his balls draw up tight.
So close to your virgin scent gland on your neck, he huffs your sticky skin and bares his teeth while you’re blissfully unaware, making out with Rudy until the latter notices the shift in the other alpha—and he swiftly reaches out to grab a fistful of Alejandro’s sleek raven hair, tugging it back to make their eyes meet.
“Not tonight, boss. Tu mismo lo dijiste,” he reminds the older alpha pointedly.
Alejandro growls, then nods. He feels your walls flutter and tighten around his rutting shaft with another impending climax. They share a look, and Rudy tightens his grip with a curt nod—a silent promise to keep the other alpha from sinking his teeth into your mating gland in his ecstasy.
Not tonight, querida.
On another continent, now separated not only by distance but a broken packbond, Gaz paces inside the Captain Price’s office, deadly like an agitated jaguar in its too tiny enclosure.
“This is fuckin’ bullshit, Cap,” he repeats, snarling for the umpteenth time. “Absolute fuckin’ madness!”
His scent—usually so calm and fresh like mint leaves soaking in spring sunshine and fresh lemonade—has turned the air and atmosphere inside the office sour.
He stops right in front of Price’s cluttered desk, glaring at his trusted superior with blatant fury in his eyes as he braces his hands on the polished mahogany, leaning forward.
“How could you agree to this? How could you allow her to stay over there?! To leave our pack?!”
Behind his desk, John keeps his arms crossed tensely, jaw ticking as he clenches and unclenches it, his tongue dry and thick in his mouth as his mistake dawns on him.
The seasoned Captain made a decision with your wellbeing as his priority—always his priority—and now it’s biting him in the arse, becoming more of a simple graze like he’d expected. No, he can feel you slipping, can feel the bond severing, and it’s making him anxious, sad.
Sad. Downright depressed.
John hasn’t felt anything like this before, but he is still faring better than his Sergeant—who had no clue what was happening until he’d staggered into his office a few moments ago, clutching his chest as if someone had stabbed him with a combat knife, whinging like a pup in distress.
Bloody hell, he can’t imagine how Soap must be behaving right now—still stuck in a plane somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean; having only Ghost to turn to and soothe him. Fuck. It’s a bloody disaster.
“Gaz,” John sighs roughly, tries reasoning, “– it's her decision. I couldn’t deny her.”
“Deny her?” Gaz barks out a humourless laugh. it only agitates the younger alpha more. His eyes widen, his face twists into a dangerous snarl. “Fuck that, Captain!”
John has never quite seen him lose his composure like this. He rises from his chair with a warning growl, towers over the Sergeant and forcing him into submission, pulling both rank and dominance to ease the tension.
“That’s enough, Garrick,” he says, finality lacing his sharp tone. “She asked for special leave, nothing more–”
“We are losing her. Our omega. Our girl,” Gaz interrupts, though his voice has lost some of its burn. His jaw clenches as he grits his teeth, keeping his accusations inside as he regards his Captain with a hint of disappointment and desperation.
He swallows hard, feeling the bond continuing to dissipate; it feels like sand running through his hands and there is nothing he can do to stop it from leaving him. He knows that Price can feel it, too.
“I don’t know about you, but I cannot lose her, sir,” Gaz admits, brows furrowing with a distraught whine. “We were planning to make her ours, didn’t we? Or did that fucking plan change, too?”
There is a tense pause. John’s jaw ticks again and he rubs a hand over his coarse beard, sucking his teeth before he shakes his head slowly.
Omegaverse but instead of like collars or bites it’s anklets. Custom-made anklets that make sweet tinkling sounds?? and they r like an (admittedly outdated but still widely practiced) belief that an omega with anklets = very well loved omega because it means their mates like hearing them and just knowing where they r simply by the sound….
Goodmorning! Back for good 💅 also- in regards to being called a baby. Ty, I'll take that as a cute little compliment. Also also you're like 3yrs older than I am<3 lols
Totally not based even a little off of anything. Reader who was maybe like...an enemy prisoner or something the 141+konig took, and after realizing they weren't gonna be helpful to actually get info out of.. they just keep them all locked up as a pet. But Reader breaks like...sooo fast and Totally gets into it. So they have a pathetic whiney needy but durable, pet.
Again...totally random idea. Not related to anything. Never eveb heard a similar concept before.
-👁👁
welcome back to the land of the awake horny <3 yeah the baby was meant as a compliment <3 ARE YOU CALLING ME OLD (im jk)
also yeah totally random idea, like where did it even come from omg???? who would even think about this concept being applied to themselves🙄
CW: kidnapping/imprisonment, stockholm syndrome (?), pet play, sex
you had been in this damned room for a week now, at least you think it’s been that long, no natural light and hardly any sleep were making your mind fuzzy with exhaustion, you just wanted to sleep, even on this stupid and uncomfortable chair
your captors had tried in many ways to find out who you worked for, what your latest mission was, how to find your group before their next attack but you didn’t know!
you begged them, pleaded and swore that you knew nothing of all those things! you swear! you were one of the lowest in chains of command and you were bad at that too, your own lieutenant had told you multiple times you were a weight, a waste of space, that ‘it’d be better if you were taken or killed’
you had no chance of being rescued, and your captors were getting tired of what they thought was an act of ignorance, you resigned yourself to dying in the hands of your captors, not even trying anymore to deny or answer their questions
they took note of how passive you had become, how your body seemed to lose all the strength and fight it had, shoulders droopy and head lazily hanging down as you let them say and do whatever
it took them one more day to understand that you wouldn’t be useful, at least not for information on your team whereabouts and next missions, and they were discussing what to do with you in price’s office
“should keep the lil’ bird as a pet” soap murmured it completely as a joke, he didn’t think it would be taken seriously, a quiet comment only for kyle, but everyone heard him, and price looked over his boys, considering the idea
they were only men after all, they had needs too, so he agreed, accepting the idea and ordering them to prepare a space for you in price’s room, with a pet crate just big enough to hold you in, and give you a little room for movement, they put in some toys (both sexual and non), two little bowls with your name on it for water and food, and a few blankets
you were exhausted, hungry and thirsty, it was hard to keep your head straight and even harder to keep your eyes open but the door to your prison opening startled you, and when the captain of your enemy team you whimpered, expecting another round of torture and questioning to which you wouldn’t have an answer to even if you tried
now that he had decided to keep you as a pet he did find you really cute, he remembered the way ghost and konig had to fix themselves in their pants listening to the sweet noises you had made during your questioning, and you looked so sinful with tears pooling in your eyes
you were babbling about soaring you, to not kill you please, you’d do anything they asked for but please stop with the torture! your words stumbling over each other, voice high and whiny and wet with tears
he shushed you, stepping closer and leaning down, his hands moving to wipe away your tears, reveling in the way you flinched and whimpered at the contact, waiting for a slap or some other painful punishment
“anything, you say?” he lifted a brow, pleased that he didn’t even have to force you that much to become their pet, even more so when you nodded your head as quickly as you could in his grasp
he hummed, straightening up and moving to grab a piece of cloth to cover your eyes, and you whimpered so sweetly, anxious as to why he would render you momentarily blind, and every touch from him had you flinching, expecting the worst
he tried to be as gentle as he could while removing your restraints, the skin on your wrists all red and puffy, scratched somewhere from how much you wiggled, and then your ankles, in the same puffy and scratched condition
when he pulled you up to make you stand you stumbled immediately, falling into his arms with a pained whimper, knees weak and making you fall, but he held you up, couldn’t let his new pet break too much already, it was barely the beginning
he held you up, walking out of this room and guiding you to his barracks, right next to the ones of his team, and brought you inside, licking the door before guiding you to sit on the end of his bed
you were breathing heavily, the strain of walking so much after all the time sitting on a chair with almost no food or water had taken a strain on you, your limbs trembling
john hummed to himself a soft tune, grabbing the leather collar and matching metal chain he had the boys bring in, stepping over to you and tying the collar on your neck, securing it before giving the chain a gentle pull, a startled noise pushed out of you
“said you’d do anything, ain’t that right, luv?” he murmured, lips just an inch away from yours and breath puffing over your face, and you nodded desperately, trying to convince the man in front of you that you could be useful! you knew that!
“gonna be our little pet, what do you think” it wasn’t even phrased as a question, it’s not like you had a choice in the matter, but he wanted to tease you, let you hope you could pick for yourself
you hesitated too long for an answer and he didn’t like that, so he pulled on your collar, making you fall from the bed to the ground, your knees hitting the soft carpet he put there, and you whimpered, trying to get your bearings without your sight
“i’ll- i’ll be good, please don’t hurt me, please?” you begged so sweetly, voice low and tired, exhausted by all the violence they used against you in the last week, and you could only nod, agreeing with his decision
he held onto the chain, stepping back and pulling on it gently, having you stumble over yourself to hold your body on your hands and knees, trying not to fall on your face, and he pulled and pulled, directing you to your new home
he moved slowly, not wanting you to hurt yourself since your eyes were still covered, and when he got you to kneel inside your crate he closed it, locked the little door and stuck the chain above the top of the crate, making it so you couldn’t move more than a few inches around the cage, and then he removed the cloth covering your eyes
you winced, covering your eyelids with your hands at the too bright light, but when you got used to it you looked around, noticing the crate first, and then looking around the room, a confused look on you
“wha- where am i?” you mumbled, hands lifting to touch your new leather collar as you looked around and at the man, looking up when you felt the chain and the way the collar couldn’t be opened without a key
“your new collar, love, don’t you like it?”
“oh- uhm… no i- i love it, yeah” you couldn’t let him get mad already, he just said nobody would hurt you again, so you needed to be good
“good” he nodded to himself, pouring water in your bowl and some dry crackers in the other, telling you to ‘eat up and go to sleep, you must be tired’
you listen to him, eating slow at first but then desperately stuffing your mouth with the food, after days of receiving just the bare minimum to be kept alive you were starved, and you tried drink your water like a normal person, but apparently the bowl was glued to the floor or something? you could lift it up for some reason, so you resigned yourself to licking up the water, your parched throat winning over your ego
when you were done, stomach full, you felt sleepy, so you laid down on your little pillows, covering yourself with the blankets and letting your exhausted brain finally rest, he said nothing would hurt you, and if he wanted to kill you he would’ve done so already, so you let sleep take you, falling into its embrace for the foreseeable future
do u ever think abt how alec lingers on the past too much ? bc i do . i do a lot . i cry abt how alec’s heart physically fucking hurts when he remembers his mother . and how he blames himself for his & his sister’s deaths , because he had left his sister alone , for the first time in their lives , and when he did she was attacked , and she was forced to attack back .
The year is 2050 and Demetri is in his room pouting because he’s only sent on missions when a vampire misbehaves and turns their location off in Life360, which Aro made mandatory for everyone in 2025.
*Felix knocks on his door* Dem we need you...this guy turned off his location!
*Demetri lights up like a dog with a treat and prances out of his room. When Jane comes* oh- wait! Nevermind...there was a glitch his location is back on. We'll handle it from here thanks anyways though. *and just walks off*
*Demetri is livid and on the verge of a crash out. So bad his eye twitched. Stomps back into his room and continues to pout again*
Lowkey socially inept ghost who has NO CLUE just how horny reader is for him😔
You've pulled out all the stops, complimented his outfits, pointed out how tall he is, how warm he is. Fuck, you even compared hand sizes! But nothing! Ur pretty sure hes just dense, bc its not like hes rejected you yet, just nods along with whatever you say but he doesnt *do* anything!
You learn that ghost has a bad back and send him sex positions designed to reduce back pain, nothing but a thumbs up. Its not even you that ends up telling him, gaz sees you offer chapstick after *just* applying some and he denies it. He cant take it anymore, watching u is becoming actually painful.
"Ghost, mate, she wants to fuck you." He says blunty, dodging the indignant slap aimed at him "preferably sooner than later." Gaz gives you both a firm pat on the shoulder then walks away.
....anyways ghost ends up railing u into the mattress and u learn that u just need to be blunt with him. From then on you either drag him to ur room or say it to his face, only mildly embarrassed abt being so bold but the dick is worth it.
We knew that Aro's army was moving against us. Soon we would face the dark gifts of Jane. And worse, the paralyzing vapor of her brother Alec who could rob you of sight, sound and touch.
