umm not sure if i like this but omegaverse kinda-neglected reader! x tf141 (ghost focus), angst, good ending, gn!reader, SFW
You’re a beta. That should come as a relief, many tell you every day they wish they were your designation instead. No heats, no ruts, not even stinking up a room when you got a bit too overwhelmed by an emotion.
Just in the middle: a nice calming scent, a decent paying job— never too high, a beta CEO wouldn't be able to control anything— and the lack of any crazy season that would get you all flustered. Your sense of smell was incredibly different to theirs, but you werent given much chances to complain considering all they went through in heats.
So naturally you were taught your life revolved around alphas and omegas, all the way from secondary school when you were sat next to the reactive Alpha’s to “try and make them behave better”. In biology class your designation was skimmed over very quickly in favour of understanding how to react to their emotional changes and the like, and anything else you had to figure out for yourself.
It’s not like getting out of school into the workforce was much better. Omega’s rights had changed greatly in the past century, and no one would bat an eye at them being in most jobs— so applying was even more impossible. Even when you did get into the workplace, it was like alpha’s would immediately stop listening when there was an omega in the room, or vice versa. Truthfully you were jealous of their natural pull to each other, like the relationships you’d read in books or see in swoon worthy movies.
“There’s all sorts of jobs— chefs, mechanics, cyber analysts, engineers, dont just have to be a soldier.” The army recruiter outside your local supermarket rambles, clearly trying to get at least one recruit today at the minimum. Otherwise he’d definitely get in big trouble. “And you’re a beta, so you can do both work with Omega and Alpha jobs! You’ll be fine!”
“What?” You look at him, that mention perking you up and he looks at you with glee. You were only listening in hopes he’d get you off his back, but that was certainly news to you.
“I bet you’re sick of fighting with even more people for jobs now, huh? In the military omega’s and alphas are kept very seperate, even so, they’re required to be on suppressants so everything’s very easy.”
—————
So, that’s how you ended up here, bullied and forced into the shape of a soldier, something you still feel fake about even after countless deployments. It’s quickly forgotten though when you have the thrill of finally finding your place in society.
Your first team was mostly alphas, a beta here and there, but it felt great to have them treat you equally, slapping a hand on your back and grinning at a job well done. The omega team wouldnt even bat an eye when you were assigned to them, just as welcoming. Truly the best of both worlds, you could be anything you wanted in this system— it was like it was built for you to thrive.
Then the taskforce got established, and by a stroke of luck, you got transferred on. “You always run this early?” A hand lands on your shoulder, and you jump just to meet Sergeant Mactavish’ grin. After completing your demolitions course with flying colours, you soon got assigned under him. His hair is wet, mohawk flat for once, and you can only assume he just washed off. Still, his scent washes over you, easing your momentary shock and you nod, smiling. “Yeah, isn't the water too cold this early?”
“It’s alright. C’mon, let’s go meet the others for breakfast.”
You follow him, the faintest happy scent trailing off of you as you do so, and spiking just the miniscule amount when you sit down at the table.
“Please please give me your bread roll, i love the jam they use for it.” Gaz pleads, clasping his hands together and you can't help but roll your eyes, letting him trade it for his fried egg. “I love you so much-“ He mumbles, already taking a bite out of it that Price rolls his eyes as he takes a seat.
“Almost thirty years old...” He mutters and you giggle, eyes moving to where Ghost comes with his tray, sitting next to Price.
“I saw you on the track, you looked tired.” He says, giving you a pointed look, and making your cheeks flush. Oh, right. The night prior you’d been suddenly awaken to help deal with a feral omega, forced to give up hours of sleep to soothe them to submission..
“Just didn’t get the best sleep. I’ll feel alright after a coffee.” You give him a small shrug, eating more of your food. His eyes linger on you for a moment longer before nodding and carrying on.
The sergeants were more than happy to include you in all their plans, barely batting an eye when your scent wasn't as strong as theirs or in combat training you couldn't hold as much of an intimidating presence. Nor did the Captain and the Lieutenant care either, always praising the fact you could slip by unnoticed, with no chance of wavering from the other two designations and such.
It felt almost like a pack.. and it was perfect. So perfect.
“Johnny, just spill it!” Gaz groans as the Scot dances around the subject for the tenth time that morning, making you all roll your eyes at the breakfast table.
“I got an omega!” The whole table falls silent, and then Gaz lets out a low whistle patting him on the back whilst the Captain nods approvingly.
“And you wont show us a photo?” Ghost chimes in, making Soap stumble to get his phone out, excited as he passes the phone around. A sweet, soft omega. Round cheeks, a bright smile, hanging off his arm like it was the key to her heart. A perfect match to him.
“She looks perfect with you, good on you, son.” The Captain says, giving him a gruff smile and Gaz snickers at his father-like praise. Then they turn to you, as you sit in shock, fork gently clattering on the plate.
Your jaw hurts from how you physically have to force a wide enough smile, standing up and coming around to congratulate him properly. It’s even worse when Kyle insists he should show more pictures and so you stand there between them, making fake ooo’s and aaah’s in hopes it would hide the slightest change in your scent.
It changes everything.
“Soap, me and Gaz are going to the pub later—“
“Ah… cant, omega wants me to watch a movie with her. What about friday?”
“Oh— do you mind if we do some sparring today?”
“Uh.. okay, sure. Just gotta finish up this text to my omega. Ye know she’s getting stronger by the day! I’ve been helping her keep fit, yknow, to stay safe and all.”
“Do you want to go grab lunch?”
“Oh— sure. Feels like i havent seen you in forever.”
You smile wide when he finally agrees to hang out with you again— after all, it’s not like he was acting like this with Kyle. So you both enter the mess, going to grab your plate.
“Ahh.. the ‘mega loves chicken like this, makes hers a bit more seasoned though. Bloody good.” You smile weakly, trying to start your own conversation about work, and the mission you’ll be going with him on.
“Oh ye havent heard yet.” He falls quiet and you tilt your head in confusion, about to place the dish on your tray.
“Havent heard what? Was there a new brief?”
“You should talk to the Captain.”
Confused, you do stop by his office later that evening, gently tapping on the door with your knuckles and announcing yourself. With a weaker scent, he couldn’t tell you apart from the alpha’s across base with their scent blockers on, unlike the rest of the taskforce.
“Come in.”
“Soap said i havent heard something about the mission im going with him on soon? Did something change?”
“Ah, right. You dont need to go anymore.”
You blink in surprise, suddenly really confused by all of this and you step forward a bit more, scent souring. Not that he’d pick up on it.
“He’s a claimed alpha now, there’s no need for a beta to mediate.”
You stand there, the contents of your stomach in your throat as you process his words. Mediate. You werent there because of skills.. the CO who encouraged you to take a demolition course didn't even think you were good at it either. They just needed a beta to mediate in a field lacking them.
“Oh. Right.”
A month passes by of you watching Soap slip away from you, barely talking to you if not about his omega, never joining you on a morning run until you’re sure he’s forgotten about you altogether. At first you had chalked it up to him just being busier with mated life. After all, you’ve witnessed the pull of an omega first hand many times, how it makes them change. Though, his relationship with the alphas didn't change in the slightest.
With his protective instincts he was drawn to the alphas more now, always hanging around Gaz and and Ghost when they weren't busy, beelining straight past you unintentionally. You cant really blame him either, no one remembers the beta’s faint scent.
It was Gaz next. One evening you were leaning against him on the couch, unable to hide your despair and luckily he’d been nice enough to let you sit there without explanation. It was nice, you thought that if you had no Soap, at least you had your other best friend. He always made you smile, and he was the reason you even got a slice of attention from Soap these days.
And then it came.
It started small, just hanging around Soap more often than not. Really you hadnt thought much of it, but it did feel rough when you sat also on the rec room couch just to watch them fully invested in something you could never join in on. You figured it was about Soap’s omega again, not something you particularly wanted to hear about.
Then it turned into turning down bar nights altogether. They would both cancel, Gaz excusing it with ‘plans’ whilst Soap was always honest. Sure you had the whole team, but being in the vicinity of four alphas in an alpha only bar was enough of a scent overload to give any beta a headache.
Then you saw his lockscreen on accident, just wanted to check the time really. It was unmistakably obvious though, the smiles, calmer than Johnny’s one, but just as gorgeous and adorable. A real treat for the eyes.
“Congratulations.” You mumbled when he came back to the couch with his can, raising a brow at you.
“What..?” He knew, of course he did. You knew his lying look.
“Got yourself an omega, when are you gonna tell the others?”
He seems embarrassed, quickly grabbing the phone off of you, cheeks burning. “How did you see that?!”
The next morning he announces it to the team and you join in with congratulating again, only too aware of the cycle that was soon to repeat. Only, it wasn't too bad with Gaz. You were grateful, so grateful when he still would spend a lunch or two with you, or even just talk to you.
“Hey, we going on our usual grocery run this week?” You two were put together on the rota for stocking the rec room and so you both head out, riding shotgun in Gaz’s car.
You both had a copy of the list, walking around the store together, until you eventually got them all. “Oh! Just a second, need to grab some scent stuff.” In the small beta section they allowed, there were really good products to clear out scents from others that’d stick to betas and linger around. After all, you had a keener sense of smell, so being around the taskforce meant it racked up pretty fast on your clothes and on your room.
Kyle was the first you confided in after you suddenly fainted once, at a bar, the scents too much for you to handle. Though you managed to quell it pretty quickly with these. Some you could just spray in your nose and go— perfect for getting rid of the oncoming dizziness.
“You know you dont have to get the fanciest things, just get the base ones. It’s at the back of the store and they’re expensive.”
You pause, he never questioned this before, not even the first time you had nervously told him— afraid to be undermined.
“There’s no base ones..” You say with a raised brow, but you cant bring yourself to be too rude to him. Even if his tone was almost sharp, scolding, as if you were being selfish. Right now it feels like you’re reduced to your designations, and that’s it. Not humans, not friends, not even teammates. Alpha and beta. “There’s only one brand that ever does it.”
“Really? And what about the cheap scent clearers? The ones you used to use before.” He gives you a firm look, challenging, and you swallow, unsure where this hostility came from.
“..They got pulled off the shelf, Kyle. Thousands of beta’s got chemical burns— i couldnt smell properly for a week.”
He pauses for a split second, like he’ll acknowledging the truth in your words and his wrongs, then just huffs, turning to scan where the empty checkout is. “Fine. Get what you want then, but I'm going to pay. I’ll meet you at the car.”
When you return with the small plastic bag, he puts his hand out for the receipt so it can be handed to you at a price for expenses on the card. “I paid for it myself.” You mutter back, your scent tinging sour and in the close proximity it might be noticeable this time. He pauses, and then puts his hands on the wheel, choosing not to comment further.
———————————
The sergeants are on a mission, one you were supposed to be on, but now you’ve been shoved into another with unclaimed alpha’s who need a bit of extra settling. Or rather someone lesser than them they can secretly believe they’re higher than. It doesn't feel much different to secondary school now, and you find yourself with less will to argue about it.
Thankfully, Lieutenant Ghost is here with you. He’s always been alright— not exactly friendly but not rude either. You were quite intimidated by his rank at first, convinced he’d be strict and unforgiving but he’s content if you get the work done.
“Handled that bomb in record time.” He comments beside you on the way back to base. There was another demolitions expert on the team but when news came up that there was another bomb they had not suspected, he immediately put his trust in you to disarm it.
“Thanks for the chance, Lt.” You smile up at him and he nods, acknowledging your hard work. After all, you really did always put in more than your best. Even so, he cant help but notice you sink as soon as he shifts his attention to someone elsewhere, the conversation falling quiet. He’d be blind to notice the gap between you and the sergeants, even if you were a beta and them having omega’s shouldnt even bother you. Him and Price had to regularly reminds them to not walk around in clothes stinking of their partner.
“The sergeants are back from their mission, could hit the pub tonight. Whole team can come”
You feel too bad to decline now, so you just nod. “Okay. Yeah.”
—————
The Alpha only pub is bustling and you offer to grab the third round just so you can escape the thick scents building around you. It doesnt help that you’re basically rationing your scent-refresher as of right now.
“Omega’s doing good.” Soap responds to Price’s questions.. At least you’ll miss this mandatory conversation while you go. The bartender already knows you, greeting you with a welcoming smile as you start your order. It’s all going on Price’s card, so you take the opportunity to get a sundae instead of alcohol. He did owe you one after an explosive you caught right by his position. Besides, it was less than a tenner, and you’d savour it for life.
“Heat’s coming up though. It’s only three days long usually, but should go smoothly. The store almost ran out of supplies too.” Soap sighs loudly, shaking his head and Kyle nods along, also probably having similar issues.
You’re not exactly listening, carefully holding the plate of drinks so you don't accidentally spill it with the countless bodies in this crowd.
“If they got rid of the beta section, they’d have more to spend stocking on the omega stuff.” A soldier hanging around elbows Soap, but he doesnt disagree. If anything the buzz of alcohol just makes him want to finally speak his truth now.
“Right? I mean really? Beta period products? Beta scent enhancers? Like those would actually even work to attract an alpha let alone an omega. Those scent refreshers cannot be real either, i mean, you’d think they’d want to smell us, ya know? Not like they get anything else— ”
The table goes silent, Gaz obviously kicking Soap in the leg until he looks up and meets eyes with you. The other soldier doesnt bat an eye, raising a brow at you. “Oh, your drinks are here. Can you order me two aswell?”
“I’m not a waiter” You snap back, and the Captain stands quickly, taking the tray from your hands and placing it down on the table.
“Think your team wants you back over there.” He motions for the soldier to go with his eyes, and he quickly leaves. “Thanks for grabbing them, i’ll get yours. Come, sit.” He turns to you but you freeze, shaking your head, and turning back into the crowd. “I’ll get it myself.”
“You idiot!” Gaz puts his head in his hands at the very obvious tension from Soap’s words.
“I didn't know they was there!” He retorts, though also slumps into his seat a little more. “It’s true. What do you want me to say?”
“Enough.” Price sighs, pinching his brow, he should’ve stopped the sergeants earlier but he hadnt known he’d be stupid enough to say that. Even if it was something that they were all thinking.
They take their drinks from the tray you brought, Gaz and Soap downing theirs immediately as if that’ll get rid of the dread hanging on their head. Price begins to sip his light chatter starting up again until Ghost suddenly speaks up.
“They still haven't come back.”
It’s been five whole minutes, and there’s no sight of you to be seen anywhere.
—
You’re sitting at the back entrance of the pub, empty at this time with the game roaring inside the pub. The alleyway it leads into is dirty, a few football decorations here and there, but mostly just black bin bags spilling out the large bins. There were two guys who had been staring you down for a while, like you were something that needed saving. The second one of them approached and caught your lack of omega scent, they immediately groaned and just turned away.
You just stick your spoon back in your sundae, not even lifting your head the entire time, just letting the cold sweetness try and keep you together.
There’s a small noise as someone sits down beside you, a rustle of clothing, and then the soft click of a lighter. You turn your head, slightly surprised to find Ghost there instead of a random drunk bloke hoping to score a sweet thing. He meets your eyes but neither of you say anything as you go back to eating your sundae.
“Should’ve got the other one.”
“What?”
“The bigger one.” He shrugs, the cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. “Price told us to order whatever.”
“This is the only one that can come in a takeaway cup.” You mumble and he doesn't say anything further, not even when you lick the spoon clean.
“Why are you here?” You ask, unable to keep silent anymore. It’s not like he actually came to see how you were, and you’re suddenly glad he didn't come ten minutes earlier when you were on the verge of bawling your eyes out.
“S’posed to be a team night.”
“Maybe for the Alphas.” You grumble and he cant help but hum alongside you, not arguing with you on that fact.
“Cant stand the smell, can ya? Got the takeaway cup cause you knew you’d need to go regardless.” Of course he figured it out immediately, though you’d think it’s impossible to read you given how some people treat you.
“You mad i’m not fawning over your scent?” You scoff and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, making sure no chocolate sauce lingers— especially with how he’s watching you right now.
“Johnny is a stupid drunk, ‘lright?.” He mutters, a bit of bitterness in his tone that always lingers, but it’s not directly at you. “Price’ll convince you it’s just his instincts and all, looking after the omega.”
You look over at him and give him a deadpan look, the most honest you’ve ever been with the man. Usually you’re pretty agreeable, in fact the only time you’ve had a conflicts was when they got injured. Turns out you’re the only voice of reason whenever that happened, as the smell of the blood sent the rest of them into a spiral of worry.
And well, after that, he can't really blame you for being like this.
“I’m going.” You mutter, standing up and throwing the plastic cup in the bin before wiping your hands on your jeans.
To your surprise, he doesnt hesitate to follow you as you round to the front, heading to the little bus stop. It’s not the first time you’ve left early, but it is the first time someone’s made sure you’re alright by the end of the night.
————————
Soap only makes a quick apology which you’re forced to just accept,, because what else can you really do? Mess up a whole team because of one thing he said which wasnt that far from the truth?
As predicted, Price did try and tell you it was due to protective instincts, wanting the best for his omega. Right, the same instincts that made him leave you like you were dirt on his shoe.
Besides, life was getting busier for you as you now got passed between two teams. Either working with Ghost and Price or a different group of alphas. Passed around like a damn stress toy in your opinion.
“So we’re going to the one in the highstreet?” Gaz and Soap are chatting on the couch, not that you’re listening, just getting your things out the cupboard to make yourself a hot drink.
“My ‘mega loves it, craves the food there all the time. She’s gonna love meeting yours.”
Whatever, it wasnt the first time they’ve discussed plans in front of others. Wouldn't be the last.
“I’ll text the Captain and Ghost.” Soap adds, humming as he starts tapping away at his phone, opening their group chat you assume. One that you’re clearly not on, given that they dont invite you.
“You think he’ll even come?”
“He’s not that antisocial.”
“Yeah but he’s only one without an omega dumbass.”
The container you're holding clatters against the table and they both back to stare at you with the exact same wide eyed look you’re giving them. If he’s the only one then Price..
You walk out like nothing happened, even if you can feel the tears start to burn your eyes. It was all going so well, you were all happy together— werent you? So why?
The cycle repeats for the third time. You’re taken off another team, not deemed useful enough anymore. You congratulate Price when you next see him, and he doesn't say more than a thank you. Somehow it hurts more that he didn't purposefully tell you— he just forgot, like everyone else did.
You stopped coming by the rec room the last time the sergeants had a movie night without you. The texts between them and you ran dry, and after skipping one breakfast, you just never came back again. That’s just how it was now, and they didn't even reach out once. In fact, all of the last messages were from you. An unanswered question, a conversation cut short, or a text that just never even got opened.
Except for Ghost. He still spoke to you— well, as much as he’s known to anyway. A hello in passing, a chat between sets in the gym, maybe when you’re queuing for food. As much as you wanted to take the opening, you just couldnt, too terrified to. After all, it was only a matter of time until Ghost left you aswell. You should know that you should savour every last moment, cling onto it tight, but you just can't. It’s not like you two were ever the closest anyway.
——————-
You’ve been moved to an omega team this time. It’s not the first time you’ve worked with one, but usually they can balance each other out easier since they aren't as explosive as Alphas. It also means this is a mission you can't slip up on from the months of work they’ve put into this.
They welcome you immediately, and you grasp the ropes of it all fairly quickly, until it’s finally the day. The prisoners are right where you expected them, and just as told, the one in the middle has explosives strapped all over.
They evacuate the rest out whilst you kneel down before the explosives, watching the wires and where they turn and twist intently whilst the person tries their best not to squirm too hard. Even with your best efforts, nothing seems to match what you know but you frown as you notice the wire reaching towards the chair they’re bound to. Down to the floor.. a weak floorboard. The weight of the chair.. essentially a mine.
One hostage on that chair— you move her off and everyone dies. What do you even do?
“Do not stand up at any point, okay? I’m going to get you out, but you have to trust me.” Shrugging all the gear off, you cut the straps that locks the person to the chair.
You hand her your gear carefully and step back, just enough to reach the doorway. There’s no telling how large this bomb is, but you can assume it cant be enough to seriously damage the ship you’re on.
“Okay, you need to shuffle forward just slightly and place the gear behind you, okay? Then, when you’re ready, cover your head with your hands and run towards me.” The woman trembles, doing as you told and the weight of the gear seems to be a good enough trade off for the mine to not set off.
After that, she bolts, and you pull her through the doorway and as far away as possible, shielding her as the shockwaves rattles through the ship.
———————
Ghost hadnt expected to see his phone buzz at this time, by the infirmary no less. But when they relayed what happened, he had made his way there immediately. You had just come out of surgery, a high enough dose of anaesthesia in you that you just werent acting right. He intended to wait outside until you stabilised, that is until the nurse rushes out suddenly.
“Would you mind coming in, sir? We need someone to restrain them.”
He steps inside to see you squirming against another nurse, slurring and trying to escape your bed, clearly panicked.
“Stop that, you’re going to hurt yourself more.” He reaches for your flailing wrists, forcing the nurses out the way as they stand at the back and watch you get manhandled by the alpha.
Something in his gut feels uncomfortable with the stains of red across the bandages across your body, burns peeking out of some. So he carefully restrains your wrists against each other, holding them firmly.
“L-lieutenant?” You stammer out, dazed eyes searching for him intently until you manage to focus on his mask. Finally you stop freaking out for a moment. He turns but the nurses are already gone, probably called to another patient— the operation you were on had quite a few injuries for different reasons.
“Yeah, it’s me. Y’just came out of surgery, you’re okay now, alright?” He carefully lets go of your hands, helping you reposition yourself after you had tried to squirm off the bed. “I’ll grab the nurse, then we can see when we can get y’outta here.”
The nurse?
You blink at him, looking around at your surroundings, the sterile smell of the place attacking your nose. Simon was an alpha.. and the nurses, well specifically in this wing.. your eyes glance to the sign outside the door, the familiar writing.
“No- no you cant!” You barely manage to grasp his arm as he pulls away and he looks at you in confusion. The beeping in the room starts getting even louder than before, almost incessant and you feel like your chest is going to explode.
“Your heart rate is rising, sarge. You need help—“
“Lieutenant— no, please-“ You whine pathetically as he pulls away from you, leaving him stunned until he reluctantly steps closer again before you throw yourself entirely out of the bed to reach him.
“I wont let ‘em hurt you, promise.” He can only assume you must be scared of needles or something, a fear of medical care surely. He never knew that about you, and it spikes something in his chest, a cog in his head. The fear radiating off of you is palpable, and he can smell the faintest change of your scent in the air.
“No- no! The nurse— she’s an o-omega, you cant—“ You choke out, head getting dizzy from all the sudden movement as you desperately clutch his sleeve. It forces him to stay right there, not the grip on his sleeve but the desperation in your eyes.
“Sarge— i’m not gonna act like a wimp in rut from talking to an omega.” He huffs but he knows you’re out of it. It must be the anaesthetic getting to your head, making you say all these silly things.
“You’re going to leave me- you’re going to—“ A sob escapes you as grip loosens on him and he freezes, watching you curl into yourself. Your forehead gently hits his arm, tears wetting his sleeve.
“I’m right here.” He says, voice quieter and it makes him breathe relief when the beeping settles down to a steadier rate, even if it is still high and you look even worse like this— so lost and terrified.
“You are..” You sniffle, pressing your nose further against his arm. “t-the omega nurse- she- she’ll come and you’ll leave with her. You’ll leave me- a-and never speak to me again, please- lieutenant please.” Your hands tighten and he swallows sharply, letting your words sink in.
It was never about envy, not even the way you stared at them whenever they spoke about omegas. It was pure fear. And this feeling in his chest, it was tightening with each soft sniffle from you, instincts flaring. He’s never felt like this in his life, infact he was convinced he never would. But he just cant stand the sight of you like this— the bloodstained clothes, the fear in every small movement, your vulnerability.
He steps forward without thinking about it, his free arm gently prying you off of him until you fall back against the pillows. “Not leaving you for some random omega, you silly beta.” He scolds, picking you up off the bed until your head rests on his shoulder, sniffling into his shirt.
“Gonna take you where you belong. Gotta tell me if i hurt you, though.” Warmth spreads through him now that he has you against him like this. It clicks something in his brain he didn't know was waiting for a stimulant.
All that leaves your lips are the sobs that keep coming, staining his shirt, but finally settling now the dizziness has settled. “Dont go.. don’t, please, you cant..”
You’re right, he cant keep you around these omegas and all of this. No, he needs you to be healing properly around things you like— you want. He needs to look after his beta.
He grabs your duffel off the chair where it’s left, checking the corridor twice before marching through the quiet corridors towards the barracks.
Yandere Boytoy! Who acts all confident and funny but becomes a babbling whiny mess the second you’re hand goes to his jeans button.
Yandere boytoy! Who’s confident enough to send you hundreds of dollars worth of flowers and show up to your Pilates class and stare at you the entire goddamn time but who’s face DROPS the second you actually look at him like you might want him.
Yandere boytoy! Who will spend his cute finance or tech big boy bonus to buy you a Bulgari serpenti bracelet but will cream his pants and cry if you actually send him a message that says “Thank You 💋” with a pic of it on your wrist(he will be using his absurd high graph hd expensive ass printer to make a photo and put it into a scrapbook he totally made when he learned who you were)
Yandere boytoy! Who somehow always knows where you are which is weird because you always post your stories after the fact and don’t recall EVER sharing your location so how the fuck-
Yandere boytoy! Who… has a job? But always seems like he’s in your business instead of his, so, this is really weird…
Yandere boytoy! Whose feelings you love messing with because you’re unsure about yours, but you know he’s cute, well off, and has a liking(crippling degrading delicious obsession) for you. ;)
I'd like to imagine a Yandere!Knight who never ever leaves his princess' side for any reason.
He would sooner chop his arm off than leave you alone, not even when you were in a perfectly safe location. Your Yandere!Knight kept his head on a swivel like a paranoid owl, always on the lookout for anything or anyone that could possibly pose a threat to his beloved princess.
And should a threat present itself, he would be the first to act, sometimes before you even realized you were in danger. He preferred it that way. Nothing should have the pleasure of stressing his princess out or making her life difficult.
So, when the prospect of an arranged marriage sprang up during one meal with your family, and he immediately noted the distress marring your mien, your loyal knight decided then and there what it was he had to do.
However, no matter how many suitors went missing, or suddenly called off the impending union, your parents were still adamant about marrying you off.
That night, as you poured your heart out to your knight with tears streaming down your pretty face, he held you in his warm, protective arms. It was the first time he'd ever dared to touch you in such a way.
And you allowed it.
You allowed him to comfort you, to touch you, to kiss you... Until you could think of nothing that wasn't related to him. Just as you were the only thing occupying the space in his mind, he, too, wanted to be that for you.
As his fingers slowly, yet insistently, spread your undefiled pussy open, countless shivers ran through his body at the way you clung to him. The tears in your eyes now weren't those of sadness, but desperation. As a direct result of your lovely little noises, the tent in his pants was becoming much more noticeable by the second. With the way you were so preciously nestled in his lap and squirming all about, he had half a mind to hold you there forever.
Finally, after the third orgasm he pulled from you, you shakily clutched his forearm, panting heavily. Through your ragged breaths, you begged him to take you.
"Oh? 'Take you', you say..?" He circled his fingers around your engorged clit, causing your leg to kick out involuntarily.
"And what would you have me take, my dear princess?"
Without a single thought, you babbled, "m-my innocence, my fr-freedom—"
Your voice alone was enough to make him tremble in pure ecstasy. "My princess... My liege..." He sighed blissfully, calloused hands gripping at your plush thighs.
Summary: Loki transforms into you while you have your back turned away. And he falls in love all over again. [WC 711][Ao3]
Request: @samanddeansannoyingsis Loki shifting to look like reader and just loving how soft and plush she is. Always wrapped up in her little sweaters and leggings. And suddenly he understands how beautiful she is.
Warnings: fluff, supportive loki
Loki had meant for it to be a joke. A harmless little trick. That was how it started, anyway.
You had wandered off to the kitchen in one of your usual cozy outfits—an oversized sweater that fell off one shoulder and soft leggings that hugged your legs. The Avengers Tower was quiet that afternoon, most of the team gone on missions or errands.
And Loki… well. Loki was bored. So naturally, mischief followed. A shimmer of green magic flickered around him in the hallway mirror as he altered his form. Not into Captain America. Not into Thor. Not into some intimidating warrior prince. No. Into you.
At first he grinned at his reflection. Your face stared back at him—your eyes, your mouth, the little crease between your brows when you were thinking too hard. “Hm,” he murmured, tilting his head. The voice was yours too. Softer than his. Warmer. Curious, Loki reached down and touched his—your—arm. And paused. “…Soft.”
His brows furrowed slightly as his hands wandered experimentally. The sweater sleeves hung over his hands. The knit was thick and warm, the sort of thing meant for curling up on a couch rather than ruling kingdoms. He rubbed the fabric between his fingers. Comfortable. Then he shifted again, touching his stomach. Your stomach. There was a softness there. Plush, warm, yielding beneath his palm in a way that startled him. He squeezed lightly. “…Oh.” Another squeeze.
Then a thoughtful hum. You had always described yourself with such cruel words. Too soft. Too much. Too plumpy. Yet standing there in your shape, Loki found himself… fascinated. His hands traced over the curve of your hips next. The softness of your thighs. The gentle weight of your body. It was warm. Real. Alive in a way sculpted warriors and statuesque Asgardians rarely were.
“You are built for comfort,” he murmured to the mirror, sounding almost reverent. He shifted his weight and the leggings stretched pleasantly as he moved. Flexible. Soft. Practical.
And suddenly— Suddenly he understood something that had puzzled him for months. Why he loved watching you curl up on the couch. Why your sweaters made him want to wrap his arms around you. Why the sight of you bundled in blankets made something strange and protective stir in his chest.
Because this body— Your body— Was made for warmth. For holding. For softness. His hands rested on the curve of your stomach again, thumbs rubbing lightly. “How have you convinced yourself this is anything but beautiful?” he murmured quietly.
Footsteps approached. Loki didn’t notice until you walked into the hallway and froze. Because standing in front of the mirror… Was you. Except the other you was poking thoughtfully at their stomach.
Your eyes widened. “…Loki?”
He turned. Your own face looked back at you with a slightly guilty expression. “Oh,” he said. Then he looked down at himself again, poked your stomach once more, and added thoughtfully, “I believe I owe you an apology.”
You blinked. “For what??”
“For not realizing sooner how lovely you are.”
You stared.
He gestured vaguely to himself. “This form is extraordinarily comfortable.”
“YOU ARE WEARING MY BODY LIKE A SWEATER.”
“And it is a very nice sweater.”
You marched forward, cheeks burning. “Turn back right now!”
Instead he tilted his head, examining you carefully. Then smiled. Slow. Fond. “Oh no,” Loki said softly. “I rather think I prefer you this way.”
Your brain short-circuited. “…What?”
His magic flickered, dissolving the illusion. Suddenly Loki stood in front of you again—tall, dark-haired, impossibly smug. But his hands moved immediately to your waist. Warm. Firm. Drawing you against him. Exactly where he’d just discovered he liked you most.
His arms wrapped around your soft middle like he had every right to be there. “You are warm,” he murmured against your temple. Your face felt like it might combust. “And soft.”
“…Loki.”
“And perfectly shaped for holding.” You tried to hide your face in his chest. He just hugged you tighter. “You should see yourself as I just did,” he added quietly. Because now he knew. Now he had felt it. Your warmth. Your softness. The way your body fit perfectly against someone who adored you. Loki pressed a kiss to your hair. “Magnificent.”
He’s a problem. A walking, talking... paradox of sharp edges and soft hands—except the soft is reserved for her and her alone. To the rest of the world, he’s all business: measured words, steady hands, a gaze that doesn’t waver. But the moment she walks into the room? His composure unravels, just a little. Enough for his fingers to twitch, for his breath to catch, for something unbearably fond to settle behind his eyes.
It’s... pathetic, really. He knows it. She could ask him for the world, and he’d set it at her feet without a second thought. Hell, she could ask him to kneel, and he’d do it. Not because she wants power over him—no, she doesn’t even realize what she does to him—but because she’s her. His undoing. His salvation. The only thing that makes this whole godforsaken life worth it.
He watches her across the room, the way she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the way she bites her lip in concentration, completely unaware of the fact that he’s starving for her. It’s not just want. It’s not even need. It’s something deeper, something that’s settled into his bones and taken root in his bloodstream.
She turns, catches him staring. Raises an eyebrow, amused.
“You good?”
Not even close. But he smirks, tugs at the knot of his tie like it’s strangling him. “Yeah, sweetheart. Just thinking.”
Thinking about how he’s never letting her go. About how she could walk him straight off the edge of the world, and he’d follow without hesitation. About how he’s already ruined for anyone else, because she’s it. The only light in his life, the only thing that makes him human.
And God help him, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
I’ve been thinking about reader who’s obsessed with teeth-
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You don’t mean for it to become a thing.
It just… happens.
You’ve always liked teeth. Not in a weird way—well, maybe a little weird—but more in a fascinated-with-anatomy kind of way. Teeth are durable. Unique. They tell stories about people.
So one night in the safehouse, halfway through dinner, the thought slips out before you can stop it.
“Can I see everyone’s teeth?”
The table goes silent.
Gaz slowly lowers his fork.
“…I’m sorry, what?”
“Your teeth,” you say, gesturing vaguely. “I’m just curious.”
Price rubs his temple like he’s already tired of whatever this conversation is about to become.
Soap recovers first.
“Oh this is brilliant,” he laughs, immediately baring his teeth like a dog. “Go on then, doc. Tell me what ye see.”
You lean closer, squinting seriously while Soap keeps his mouth open dramatically.
“Hold still.”
Next, you looked at Price, who eventually sighs and obliges, opening his mouth just long enough for you to peer inside while you make thoughtful little observations.
Gaz reluctantly goes third.
“You’re not going to like… keep one if it falls out, right?”
“No…” you say... unconvincingly.
“…Comforting.”
You look around afterward.
Three down.
One left.
Ghost is leaned back in his chair, silent behind the skull mask, watching the entire ordeal unfold.
You already know the answer before you even ask.
Still, you glance his way.
“Ghost?”
Soap immediately bursts out laughing.
“Aye good luck with that.”
Ghost tilts his head slightly.
“You serious?”
You shrug a little sheepishly.
“I know you’ll say no… the mask and everything. I just figured I’d ask.”
Ghost stares at you for a long moment.
Then he simply shakes his head once.
“Not happening.”
You nod easily, completely unbothered since already knowing the answer.
“Fair enough.”
And that’s the end of it.
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Hours later the safehouse is quiet.
Price is asleep.
Gaz disappeared into one of the spare rooms.
Soap is snoring loudly enough to rattle the walls.
You’re sitting alone at the kitchen table, absentmindedly scrolling through something on your phone.
Footsteps echo softly down the hall.
You glance up.
Ghost.
Still in the mask.
He stops across from you at the table.
For a second he just stands there, silent like usual.
Then he reaches into one of the pouches on his vest and drops something onto the table.
It lands with a tiny click against the wood.
You look down.
A tooth.
Clean. White. Fresh.
Your eyes widen.
“…Simon.”
He shrugs like it’s nothing.
“Didn’t say you couldn’t have one.”
You look back up at him, stunned.
“You—did you just—”
“Was loose.” he interrupts casually.
You stare at the tooth again.
Then back at him.
“You pulled it out…”
Ghost leans back against the counter.
“Seemed important to you.”
There’s a strange warmth behind your ribs that you don’t quite know what to do with.
You pick up the tooth carefully, like it’s fragile.
“Thank you.”
Ghost just nods once.
As he turns to leave, you speak again.
“Your dental alignment is probably really good if that came out that clean.”
He pauses mid-step.
Slowly turns his masked head toward you.
Then a quiet, amused huff escapes him.
And he disappears back down the hallway, smiling with one less tooth.
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I got to looking at my teeth and this idea just.. would not leave.
on my SOUL i know ghost would let you dress him up in stupid outfits. you find a cute matching onesie pair? hes putting it on. if you want him to match with you for a date or just going out, hes doing it. that is your dress-up boyfriend. that is your accessory. ok. ok.
something something tummy ache and König’s warm hands splayed across your skin, “Ate too much?” He laughs softly, more to himself, you don’t seem to have any regrets. “Greedy little thing, you.” König watches with unbelievable fondness in his eyes you settling under the blankets, relishing the warmth enveloping you. Goodness him, you seem so at ease, he can’t help but steal another quick kiss. “I’m here, Schatzi. Rest now.”
It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and neither does he.
Thinking about reader accidentally domesticating ghost like a stray cat.
Maybe it was your sheer and total lack of interest that drew him in first.
While others would whisper about him or track his movements through the halls like sheep watching the wolf at the edge of the pasture, you treated him like every other person. Which is to say, totally indifferent as you went about completing your job.
The occasional "pardon me, need to use the printer." Or "hey, have you seen sergeant james?" Piqued ghosts interest.
Whenever you were around ghost, you somehow managed to strip away his whole facade and make him feel like just another person. God, was that feeling addictive.
Which is how you end up with The Ghost trailing you around base. You, in your weird dedication to your job, had only asked him "do you need something, sir?" Once.
When ghost just shook his head, you continued on, now with a shadow. Completely unfazed. Indifferent, or just focused on more pressing matters than some guy hanging around you.
Of course, you're not rude. You acknowledge ghost is there.
A fact that becomes evident when he sits down three seats from you in the mess. He doesn't have a lunch, never does, and you seem to find that completely unacceptable. "Here. I don't want it." You pointedly slide half your sub towards ghost, then go right back to eating.
He stares at it. Waits for you to take it back.
When you don't, he tentatively picks it up and eats a small bite. A well of flavors explode across his tongue, meats and cheese and seasonings all resulting in him eating the rest in three big bites.
After that, there's no getting rid of ghost.
Whenever he can, he loiters in your office and shares meals with you. Occasionally, he brings his own cooking attempts not unlike a cat bringing it's owner a dead mouse. You force a few bites before pulling out your own.
No one on base seems to understand how you've done it.
Ghost, who would fight people at the drop of a hat, is now hanging around an archivist and stepping out of the way when people need to pass.
If you tell ghost "I'm making dinner on Thursday this week, be home by seven." Then he will be home.
Nevermind the fact he is currently on the other side of the world tied up in a heavily guarded base.
Normally, ghost would settle in for some good old reminiscing about roba while his captors tried to torture information out of him, waiting until the team rescued him. It's Tuesday and you hate when ghost skips medical to come home early.
Which is how price receives a ping to ghosts location two hours after the ransom video was sent out. Cryptic, no info. Ghost written all over it. The carnage is bad, and from the entrance alone price knows the entire report file will be redacted. No survivors.
Come thursday, ghost is unlocking the door to his house, sporting clean civvies and a plaster over his nose. You're already waiting by the door, grasping his jaw in both hands with a frown "you're hurt? Did something happen, si?"
"Mh. Negative, lovie. Jus' a little mistake." Ghost hums, kissing your forehead.
He doesn't mention the mistake being his captors showing him a picture of you.
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