I NEED MORE OF THIS OSNS BR

I NEED MORE OF THIS OSNS BR

🦋🪷 𝓝ƴന𝚙𝒉𝟶ᥨ𝟶ဌƴ 💧🍃

Warnings? None really, just monster reader and descriptions of near-death, and allusions to capitalism.

Characters? Ghost, Price, Gaz, and Soap

Fic type? Head canons!

Summary? Headcanons of how 141 found Monster reader, took them home, and now live with them.

A/n: I will be making a full fic of how Reader was found and stuff but until... Headcanons! Also, @sunshine-and-moonshine was the inspo for this.

🧚‍♀️Monster Type?🧚‍♀️

Reader is a Nymph! A Nymph of the air specifically. the powers to control the wind, blend into the clouds and very close to the stars.

Your hair seems to float gracefully as if you have a fan that perfectly blows your hair at all times, your eyes glow an unusually beautiful color, your body seems a bit pale than a normal human would be, and your hands and feet while visible seem to be just slightly see-through the outline of your bones visible, same for you ribcage.

To some you'd be terrifying but to them... You're the most beautiful thing they had ever seen...

🦋 How you meet? 🦋

The boys crashed onto an island in the middle of nowhere, with little rations and no way back home. They tried everything they could to get an S. O. S. But the area they were in didn't have any planes going over it. And after a month or so when the rations were getting low, their sanity started deteriorating being consumed by hunger and thirst. So much so that everyone was starting to eye each other is a dark horrid hunger...

You had been observing for quite some time. You hadn't run into humans in your time of existence. So watching them was very interesting and peaked your curious nature. You wanted to keep them around, unfortunately, it took you a while to figure out why after a month your humans started behaving strangely. You forget that living things need things to survive like food... And water... You didn't want them to die... Or resort to eating each other to survive. You wanted to keep them! Even if you only really needed one.

One by one you visited them, in the darkness of night. Floating to them curling yourself into their side using the air around you, turning it from vapor to water holding your cupped hand to their mouth the other holding their heads. Kissing their faces and necks. Such strange and yet adorable creatures.

🪷 Life with Nymph Reader 🪷

For a while, they were content being here with you. Being given fresh water and you bringing them juicy fruit and fresh meat any time you could. But eventually, they got homesick. And while you wanted to be selfish and keep them here all to yourself. You didn't like seeing your humans so... Sad.

At first, you were sad they wanted to go... But one night Kyle had an amazing idea, you should just come home with them! You were excited about the idea! You haven't been around humans before so traveling where humans would be everywhere would be an interesting learning experience!

Helped build a raft of logs, fallen branches, and thick vines. Just big enough for your humans to sit on. Then you turned into air only your hands visible as you begin to push the raft fast enough to get to the mainland without tearing the raft to pieces.

Getting to the mainland you had to completely shield yourself. And while you had your fun when they were being asked about their survival and interrogated you ran invisible fingers through their hair, kissed along their necks, whispered sweet nothings into their ears. You didn't like being ignored for long periods.

You however weren't the only one who got jealous. Even though you can't be seen by others, the boys still get quite jealous. They also couldn't see you before, you just found them charming and desired to show yourself to them. They are paranoid that you'll find another just as charming and lose interest. But you treasure them and make sure to show them just how much you care for them and no other humans would ever replace them.

Eventually, they all end up living together. Mostly because they couldn't keep it civil and always ended up arguing about whose turn it was to have you for the week. Every night you go from room to room laying with them for a few hours, kissing them, loving them, touching them, fucking them... They love life.

They love you a lot and would gladly go through the tournament they did on that island for a month if it meant meeting you all over again.

ADORABLE

please i beg of ya, more neighbor!könig PLEASE

I gotta say, I'm totally floored by the response to that fic! thank you to everyone who liked it! Here's a little something to hold you over while I work on the ending to part 2!

-

“Someone’s kid selling candy?” 

Roze picked up one of the very many candy bars and laughed. “Either that, or someone got suckered into buying all this.” 

Hutch laughed and tore open one of the bars, “lucky for us!” 

König resisted the urge to slide down and hunch over as Roze side eyed him. That’s…exactly what happened.

- He just wanted to catch you, talk to you, anything, really. But when he opened the door, hoping you couldn’t tell that he’d been listening for your door to open, he was met with an… odd sight: A little you staring back at him with wide eyes. 

“Hey, I want to buy something for your-” you walked out of your flat, eyes on your phone, and had to abruptly stop because of the child. “What?-” you looked up and saw him in front of his door. “Oh, hey, König.” 

“Hello,” he started, his eyes drifting between you and… “you have a child?” 

You laughed, loud and a little too long. “No! No, no. This is my niece.” You then gestured between the girl and him, “Liliana, this is my neighbor, König.”

He smiled, forgetting that no one could see it behind his hood, and leaned down a bit while waving. “Hello!” 

The girl shyly returned his wave and took a step back, so that you were in front of him. 

“We do kind of look a bit alike, though, huh?” You grinned at your niece, who just rolled her eyes. The inside family joke that you were her “real mom” old and tired to the twelve year old by now. “I’m just helping out today.” 

“Ah! That is good!” 

You weren’t just nice to him, but to your family as well! How charming!

The girl, Liliana, looked between you and König, who had moved closer in conversation and was standing just an arms length away from you now. “Do you want to buy some candy?” 

König blinked and titled his head, “what?” 

“It’s for the school. Last year I got first place because of Adrian!” 

He bristled inside, he didn’t like the sound of that. “Who is Adrian?” You coughed and turned away from him, mostly hiding your face as you answered and locked the door. “My ex.” 

Liliana nodded excitedly. “He’s a fancy lawyer and bought some for his whole office!” 

You shook your head, “enough. Come on, let’s go.” 

“But Mr. König hasn’t bought his candy yet!”

“He doesn’t want any.” 

He cleared his throat and nodded at Liliana. “I would like to buy some.” 

She grinned, reminiscent of your pretty smile but somehow the pre-teen managed to look…predatory. “How much do you want to buy?” 

“How much did Adrian buy last year?” 

-

And that’s how the break room ended up with more candy than even every operative together could eat. 

i wish i had someone protective kf me like price 😭😭💔 where price when i needed him the most

The Lark

König x 'Maus' F!Reader

(Read here on Ao3)

(Part 11 of 'Little Mouse')

Word Count: 5.7k Rating: Mature Tags: Enemies to lovers, Slow burn, Dark König, Hints of yandere König, Close proximity situations, Confessions, Murder attempts, Manhandling, Behind enemy lines Warnings: Explicit mention of wanting to kill your Austrian boyfriend A/N: Please see full notes on AO3

"He's gone."

You can feel the pressure of Gaz and Ghost staring at you, can feel the slow, dreaded realization draw across them even as you stare with wet eyes down at your boots. The air between you all feels far too cold, cracked and dry in the nighttime air following the weight of Soap's words.

"Gone." Ghost echoes, and there's a tone to his voice you never hear, hovering at the apex between restraint and a desperate, unveiled well of emotion.

"...Captured." Soap clarifies beside you, and the word makes you hunch in on yourself more, threatening to send you to your knees in horrific shame of what has transpired.

"KorTac?" Ghost offers after a moment, and if the pause wasn’t indicative enough of his dread, the barely imperceptible waver of his voice betrays him.

Soap must nod because you hear Ghost suck in breath. Gaz feels rigid, frozen beside him as they both process exactly what you've relayed to them.

You lost him. You lost Price.

Your leader, your mentor, your captain and commander. The one you all looked to, who was the first to lead the charge, whose voice was an ever-present reminder of his authority, his guidance, his resolve to do the mission by any means necessary because it needed to be done.

Now he is gone.

and it was all your fault.

You look up then, eyes wet and warm as you force back tears. Gaz is the first to meet your eyes, and you nearly fracture at his gaze because it just seems so broken.

"I'm sorry." You tell him, voice hardly a whisper. "It's-it's my fault, I didn't-"

"It's not your fault." Soap manages beside you, and his voice is steady with an anger shielded by a steadfastness that no doubt draws from the very depths of him. "I was the one to make the call, I-"

"Soap."

Whatever Soap means to say next dies on his lips at the sound of Ghost's voice, and all three of you look to the lieutenant upon hearing the scarcely concealed anger that radiates cold and dangerous off his coiled form.

"What. Happened." Ghost manages, and you restrain the urge to press closer to Soap out of the need for reassurance, offer him your touch as he dares not even breathe under Ghost's gaze.

Slowly, he recounts the details of the mission, from the approach to the infiltration, pausing as you supplement his perspective with yours. You offer what you can- how it was an ambush, how you moved to extract yourselves too late, how you watched Price-

You have to pause at that, swallow down the bile in your throat.

How you watched Price take down Aksel, how your reaction had been belated, how you panicked, and that by the time you'd come back to your senses it had been far, far too late.

As you tearfully recount the events that led to Price's capture, you watch as Gaz winds himself tighter and tighter with each passing word, fists curling at his sides and brow knotted in a torn mixture between fury and despair. You can only imagine the catastrophic loss that Price's abduction left inside him- true and utter horror mixed with potent hopelessness. Price had been the one to take Gaz under his wing, to train him in all the things he didn't know and offer his advice as both captain and friend. It was no secret Gaz revered Price, and in the aftermath of his disappearance there’s an anguish that festers in his chest until it translates into rage.

"I had to choose." Soap tells the two of them, voice finally cracking in despair. "I only had one shot, I-"

Gaz reacts then, launches forward and abruptly pins Soap against the outside of the truck you’d arrived back in, fists gripping tightly to the straps of his vest, face contorted in a fury that reeks of misery.

"Gaz!" You yell, try desperately to intervene and haul him off Soap. Yet Soap doesn't struggle, doesn't offer any defense, instead just looks at Gaz with such utter guilt and devastation you can feel your heart fracture at the seams.

“This is your fault.” Gaz raps, and you watch as Soap’s eyes glinted with a shimmering reflection of hurt.

“You don’t mean that.” The Scot replies softly, voice hollow with grief. "You don't mean that, Kyle."

Gaz seems to get a hold of himself then, face falling from its snarl, eyes glimmering with realization of what he's said.

“No.” He tells his friend brokenly, voice cracking, his hands easing on Soap’s gear. “I don’t.”

You watched as he releases Soap, holding onto him for just a moment longer with his head bent before he paces a few steps away, shoulders shuddering with an unsteady exhale.

You want to touch him, to hug him, to tell him it is going to be okay. Yet you don't dare, not when you have the right. How could you? Instead, you wrap your arms around yourself, leaning into Soap's hold when he offers, swallowing down the tightness in your throat.

"It should have been me." You say in the silence that follows, and when none of them respond you echo it to yourself once more. "I-it should have been me."

"No." Soap replies, strained, slumped against the truck with one arm wrapped loosely around you, his head hanging into his chest. "Price...wouldn't want that."

"Soap is right." Gaz replies after a moment, voice croaking as he contains the wreckage of himself. "Price would have died before he let you get captured again."

Again.

It's true, you know it's true, but that fact alone doesn't do anything to quell the hurt in your chest- the sharp, sickening stab of guilt that colors your veins dark with ichor. You could have managed, could have endured KorTac's attempts to break you if you had been captured, even if they tried to use you against the 141. As long as they were safe, as long as Price and the others were safe.

Ghost lets out an exhale then, once more drawing your attention to him. Gaz and Soap turn their heads too, looking to their leader in the face of Price's absence, his second in command who shares his convictions, who remains the arrow in Price's bow- flinging himself in the direction of the enemy.

"Get sorted." He tells you and Soap shortly, voice leveling to that of a direct order. Cold, detached, compartmentalizing down further and further until the pain and the anger and fear is only atoms. "I'm going to reach Laswell. I want you all ready the second she has intel on where they’re keeping Price."

You all nod a little absently, expecting Ghost to say as much. It's not a question of if you will go to rescue your captain, but when.

Ghost turns, then focuses on you all again with a heavy stare as you gaze at him in turn.

"Tell Price your regrets when he gets back." Is all he supplies. Firm, unwavering, and yet still sounding somehow like he's trying to remind himself. "We have a mission to finish. Understood?"

"Yes, sir.” You echo along with Soap and Gaz, trying your best to bury and hide the expanse of your soul under cracked, bitter resolve.

-----

"Maus?"

You blink up at the mammoth figure who has pinned you to the wall with brutal, efficient strength, feeling the aftertaste of shock roll low through your stomach. Your knife is lofted high above your head along with your wrists, body caged in by his much larger frame. König’s hood droops forward as he stares down at you with wide, shocked eyes, pupils glinting as realization slowly catches up behind his reflexes.

You swallow thickly, feeling your heart hammer higher in your throat. Any words you may have to offer remain stuck there, fixed along with every frozen muscle coiled tight in resistance of his grasp. Your fingers flex around the blade in your grip, tightening as an anchor to tie yourself to, reminding you of your resolve.

To kill him.

It's simple. Gaz had almost accomplished it once before. Slice across his upper tricep, the underside of his arm close to his armpit. There's an artery there that runs dark and scarlet, and if you angle your blade just right you can soon feel the pulse of him run red over your gloved fingers.

Yet when you had the opportunity as he had drawn near you had fumbled, had paused a microsecond too long and had allowed him the advantage. The sting of defeat burns hollow in your chest, colliding there with something far too forbidden- the thought that you didn't want to.

"Let me go." You whisper, hushed in the corridor where you both stand. It seems to startle König out of his reverie, because his eyes shift with the exact motion that you hissed through gritted teeth.

"What in God's name are you doing here?!" He hisses, voice scathing. There's a flash in his eyes you haven't seen before, bright and dancing against the glint of his pupils that stare from under the hood. Angry, afraid.

Yet you only huff up at him, feeling acidity in your stare as you return his tone back at him.

"You really have to ask?" You spit and try to squirm in his hold for good measure. "I said let me go."

König's eyes narrow down at you, dark and frustrated, but before he can speak again he pauses- gaze widening at something distant.

He hears it before you do, the distant thump of footsteps that echoes down the corridor. You nearly miss it over the sound of your own stammering heartbeat, a desperate thing that tries to sing out against the hold that binds you, tries to reign in the aleatory and unbalanced spark of interest that runs parallel to fear.

König's head snaps in the direction of the approaching transgressor, and you see his eyes flash with a near frenetic energy, possessive, primal. It's as if he sees this person not as a threat to you, to your own mission, but to him. As if somehow they'll dare try and challenge him for you, snatch you away even as he snarls and tries to haul you back into the safe ensconce of his arms.

"No noise." He rumbles down at you darkly, and you have only a breath to blink before you're twisted in his arms, back pressed against his front. A gloved hand silences your gasp as König pivots, walks you both backwards to a cracked door you had passed only moments ago. It takes little effort on his part to haul you inside the maintenance closet, with him having to duck just slightly to avoid the frame with his towering height.

You try to struggle on instinct, thrashing futilely against his hold even as König's touch bears down and he keeps you fast against him. You try kicking back, only for your meager attempt to only make him grunt in annoyance. You try to twist the knife still in your grip, refusing to drop it. Yet König keeps your arms pinned close to your sides, refusing you the ability to try and raise it against him. When that fails you cry out in frustration, the sound muffled by his massive palm.

"Quiet, Maus." The Austrian hisses, and the pure ire in his tone is enough to make you freeze, body rigid against his as the footsteps continue to draw closer. As they do, König's grasp on you tightens, his chest vibrating with a low, threatening growl that rumbles through you, too quiet to hear and yet vibrating low and dangerous against your form. It summons something forbidden in you, the same traitorous contradiction that has him pace through your dreams, winds his voice treacherously against your thoughts, calling you the name you have begun to know yourself as.

Maus.

You think your heart drums far too loud, deafening as the footsteps round the corner and pass directly by the closet where you two are pressed tightly together. You see the shadow of a person pass under the crack of the door, and after a few moments the footsteps begin to fade back down the hallway, having bypassed the two of you without so much as a glance.

You allow yourself to breathe out a mild sigh of relief, and then turn your attention to the lumbering giant that still has you pressed against his front. You squirm in his grasp, and with the intruder now gone König allows his hold on you to relax only slightly.

"If you scream, Maus." He warns, voice grave, spoken low in the dimness of the closet with its flickering overhead light. "They will find us."

You want to bite at him, but with his hand splayed against your face you find yourself unable to do so. Instead, you make an angry little noise at him, try once more to raise your knife, halfhearted as the gesture is.

König makes a mildly displeased noise, and with a shift of his hold on you manages to wrest the blade from your grip with a little mutter in German of "Gib es mir, du Kleiner-" before it's torn from your grip. As he adjusts his hold on you, you manage to spin in his arms, back bumping against the shelves behind you. You watch as he deposits it atop a shelf high above your head, a place you'd have to climb to reach regardless of his interference. You choose instead to level a glare at him, nose wrinkling in distaste as having relieved you of your first choice of weapon.

"Rude." You tell him flatly, and König offers you a look.

"You still have your other weapons." He notes dryly, gesturing to the automatic weapon slung around your shoulder and the suppressed handgun strapped to your hip. "Why not use those?"

You feel a warm flush of indignation heat up your face and you glare up at him, feeling the urge to climb the shelves and retrieve your weapon if only out of pure spite.

"That's my favorite knife." You hiss at him, shoving at his chest. König doesn't even rock on his feet at your feeble attempt, releasing another indistinct grumble in German muffled by his hood.

"Never mind that." He mutters in frustration, lowering his head towards yours so you're forced to look up into his eyes. "Gott im Himmel, Maus. Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?!"

"You think I don't know that?!" You bite back, teeth gritted. "I wouldn't be here if you and your friends hadn't taken my fucking captain, König!"

König, for what he's worth, seems taken aback by the venom in your tone. His eyes widen under his hood for a moment before they narrow once more, pupils glinting in the dim overhead light that casts strange shadows across the hood obscuring his face.

"You think I had a choice?!" He grits, fists curling at his sides, and you briefly have to suppress a tremor of apprehension that suddenly washes over you at the temper that tightens across his shoulders. Whatever nerve you’ve managed to strike seems to electrify within him, lashing out as a dangerous current of voltage.

"What would have happened, Maus?" He asks heatedly. "Do you really think I could have gotten away with letting both of you go? I was barely able to save your life Maus, and now O’Conor has your captain convinced-"

He pauses, shoulders going rigid, and whatever König is about to say next dies in his throat with a pained little noise, eyes closing for a moment as he tries to reign in whatever emotion runs rampant inside him. It makes a surprised flutter of concern pulse through you, this reaction entirely foreign based on the things you've experienced from him.

"...The others are suspicious of me." He confesses at last. "Declan and the others, they think...they wonder if I've been...compromised."

You can't contain the grimace that passes over your face, lips pressing into a thin line and brow knotting. Your heart stammers against your ribcage in recognition of König's words, feeling them reflected back into you. You had all but begged Ghost to be included on this mission, refusing to sit on the sidelines when he had said that same word.

Compromised.

It had only renewed your vigor, your determination to shed this secret of yours, this strangeness that unfurls in your heart like a macabre bouquet. It tugs at something rotted and ivory inside you, bitterness at yourself for the mistakes that have led you here, that have distracted you to this degree.

You...you could still kill him, you think. A suppressed gunshot to the chest, his body hidden in the closet until it was too late to sound the alarm. You could watch the light fade from his eyes, feel something die within you alongside it. A heart hardened to stone but a duty fulfilled.

König seems to see the impulse flicker across your gaze, pupils glinting in the dimness. It seems to catch him off guard, drains the tension in his shoulders and replaces it there with something wounded, dismayed.

"You...really were trying to kill me, weren't you Maus?" He asks then, voice hardly a murmur, containing none of his previous venom. His shoulders slump, and at last he looks away from you, head shifting so he can avert his eyes from your smaller form. It makes a strange sense of guilt flood through you, one you try to swallow down and refuse to admit.

"...Yes." You tell him instead, voice small.

You see König close his eyes in dismay, and the vulnerability of the gesture stabs inside your chest- trusting despite the fact you had tried to have his life run crimson over your palms.

"You could have." He observes, voice heavy. "You could have killed me, Maus."

He looks at you then, and even behind the hood you can see the sadness in his eyes, woeful and quiet as he asks: "Why didn't you?"

You blink at him, trying to keep your expression flat, impassive and yet failing to do so. You lower your eyes then, turn them down to observe your boots wedged between his.

"I...don't know." You tell him honestly, treachery souring your stomach at the confession. It's the truth. You could have killed him, could have shot him and left him crumpled in the hallway, you could have sliced him open and watched him bleed out at your feet. You knew a hundred and one ways to kill someone, and yet the one person none of them would work on was him. König is mortal, just as you are, but it seemed death by your hands was a fate he would not succumb to.

As much as you tried, as much as you willed yourself to pull the trigger, something remained inside you that wavered in your conviction, made your hands tremble with the muzzle aimed at his chest.

You...weren't sure you wanted him to die.

In the silence that follows, König gazes down at you. The shadows underneath his hood darken his gaze, casting shadows over his half-lidded eyes swimming with solitude. He breathes in, reaches for you slowly, and you’re lost in thought you allow him to. You feel a hand under your chin, lifting your head and tilting it ever so gently to the side. You let him, neck craning and revealing the bare flesh of your neck, where a silvery thin scar from his blade remains present on your skin.

"I did this." He murmurs regretfully as his thumb presses against the skin and you shiver, nerve endings alight at the touch. "I hurt you, Maus."

The tinge of despair in his voice has you draw your eyes up, tracing his wrist all the way up to his shoulders, his face. In the silence and scant space between you, there's a gravity that takes hold of you once more, draws you inward towards him even as you fight the inertia of your inexorable and imminent collision.

"I never meant to hurt you." He whispers, almost as if he's afraid of the thought, the confession that echoes past his lips.

You could have, you think. You could have done so much worse.

"You could have caught me." You whisper in turn, voice hushed between you, afraid of your own words even in the silence. Even as the world spins on its axis around you both, as wars are waged and soldiers die you feel the stillness settle inside you. Just like in that moment, his hand caught around your ankle as the world erupted in a fiery blaze, your eyes locking on each other before he had released you, allowing you to escape. "But you let me go. Why?"

König pauses, his thumb still pressed into the soft flesh of your neck. He could wrap his heavy fist around it, lift you high and force the air from your lungs if he so wishes, but instead the gloved pad of the digit traces the scar on your skin once more.

"I...heard a fairytale once." He says quietly, eyes fastened on the sliver of skin he touches. "About a lark that granted wishes. It was...wunderschon. Beautiful and free and rarely found."

You feel your brow wrinkle in perplexity but allow the Austrian to continue even with his eyes glassy and distant, gazing at a memory you couldn't see.

"A greedy man trapped the bird in a golden cage, captured it for himself. He thought the bird would grant all his wishes. But..." König pauses, and in the silence you feel your heart flutter against your ribcage like that same creature, a winged, small creature trying to fly free. "The bird, without the sky, withered and died- and the world was left without it."

He looks to you then, lifts his eyes to your stare. You want to fold under his gaze, crumple and surrender to that horrid, selfish thing inside you that only rises when he speaks once more.

"Manche Dinge sind schöner, wenn sie frei sind." He tells you, tongue rolling the words in his language like a spell you so desperately want to know as well. "Some things are more beautiful when they are free, Maus."

Oh.

"I...want you to myself." He confesses. "I want to know everything about you, but I...can't let myself do that when you need to be free."

You feel your breath caught in your chest, eyes wide and lips parted as you stare up at him, absent of words and yet full of wonder. Once more, that hidden tantamount emotion inside of you threatens to split the seams of the dark place you've tried to bury it, allowing a soft, radiant light to seep through.

"Make no mistake, Maus." König tells you, and you blink at his eyes glinting in the dimness as he shifts to lean over your smaller height, bracing his arm above your head and pinning you with his stare.

A flutter in your stomach, like the nocturnal breeze of an owl's wings passing close enough to tickle your hair. You feel it draw the air from your lungs, make the cavern of your chest fill  with an emotion you feel far too afraid to name. yet it seems to glaze over your eyes, because König's gaze widens in the darkness, drinks in your doubts and fears and dangerous hope that dwells inside you.

"Wherever you go." He rumbles, voice echoing in the scarce space between you as if he whispers both your prophecies into a near and distant future. "Wherever you run, Maus. I will follow you. I will find you. I promise you that."

You know his promise is true, that if you allow him, he'll walk towards the horizon of you. You, with feathered wings taking flight to new and greater heights, and König reaching his up towards the sky to scrape against the downy softness of you.

There's a tightness in your chest, a twisted, breathless thing that makes your face crumple with a dreaded mixture of conflict and despair. You reveal it to him in this moment, allowing him to see the true confines of your heart that you so desperately try to hide away.

He's your enemy. He's your ally. He's captured you. He's let you go. He's threatened your friends. He's protected you.

He's...

"I might try and kill you again." You breathe, voice wavering as you desperately try to reign in the wickedness of your heart. "I can't promise you I won't succeed."

"You won't." He tells you, and his voice is resolute. There is no uncertainty, no hidden conviction in the utter confidence of which he speaks. "You can try, Maus. You won't be able to."

You're not sure if he means you can't or you won't- if somehow you'll hover with the blade above his heart and instead find yourself dropping your soul into his hands.

"And if I don't? You ask, voice small against the darkness and the fractures between your forms.

König blinks at you, eyes fluttering shut for all of a moment before he speaks.

"Then we'll be here again." He murmurs, and you want to shudder at the sudden softness of his voice, allowing that forbidden thing inside you to stretch forward into him. "Again and again, Maus. Over and over until one of us surrenders."

He'll catch you, you realize. Just like this, allow space for just the two of you so his voice can fester in your thoughts like a sinful addiction you shouldn't crave. Then he'll let you go, leave you in the absence of him with your mind reeling and dreams offering you glimpses of him until you meet again. Over and over, a game of cat and mouse that draws you both closer every single time you come face to face once more.

He’s so close, you realize suddenly, with his arm braced above your head, his palm still cupping your warm neck, the breaths exhaled between you merging as one.

It seems to warm you from the inside you, the way he towers over you. The fabric of his hood drapes forward as he leans his head down to regard you. The small sliver of light from the cracked doorway slashes across his face in an abstract illumination, a radiant glimpse that glows and glints across one of his eyes.

You want to look away from his gaze but you can’t. There’s something intoxicatingly enticing about his stare, the way his eyes are fixed on you with an immovable fascination, a barely restrained fanaticism at the simple sight of you in the darkness, lips parted as you meet the gleam of his eyes. You can only imagine how you look to him, a doe in the glade, eyes alert and yet somehow gentle, trepidations trusting. Then him, a wolf in the woods, at the edge of a campfire, the solitary, desirous howl of him a gale in your thoughts.

He’s consumed by you. It feels like he wants to eat you whole.

You can’t help the traitorous flutter inside you, the quake of desire that weakens you across your knees, sends a thrilling shiver racing up the path of your spine.

You want him to devour you.

“You’re so…pretty, Maus.” He murmurs suddenly, and there’s a different glint to his eyes now, something a little more distant, as his pupils flick down to your bottom lip and back up to your eyes. “...Schön.”

You hear his glove creak above your head, his fist curling tight, as if trying to push away an urge. Selfishly, you wish to reach for it, unfurl his palm into yours as if it might somehow reveal the secret he’s clasped there, let it bloom between your caught gazes.

You don’t speak. It feels that, if you do, this strange spell might be broken. This absurd fairytale will evaporate once more into the hail of gunfire and his thunderous, booming voice manic with the violence of battle. Here, in the place where he’s caught you he’s softer, blurred at the edges so you can reach out, grasp the center of him, drag him selfishly closer.

“I…” He murmurs, and again his eyes dart down, staying at the place where your caught, airy breaths tumble from your lips. “I want to kiss you.”

You don’t move. Barely breathe.

You shouldn’t. You can’t. To let him get even closer, here in the land of enemies would be treachery, an unforgivable atrocity. If you fell even further into his hands, let yourself sigh against his lips, it would mean surrender, a capitulation of everything you’ve sworn to for yourself. You promised you’d kill him, and now all you can think about is the warmth of his murmured name for you spilling across your tongue.

Maus.

You could push him away. You could retrieve the knife from the shelf above you, stab forward in the darkness into the cadaver of him you’ve built in your mind. You could feel the wet seep of him spill scarlet over your fingertips, listen to his wounded wheeze echo forth into the space between you.

Instead, in the scant light of the outside pushing inwards into your heart, you close your eyes. You wait for him.

He makes a noise then, something between a sigh and a hum, pleased and yet pleading. It’s desirous, heady, filling the cracks of you with a sickly-sweet elixir that you want him to lap at with a gentle, curious swipe of his tongue.

There’s a rustle of fabric, and you know he’s drawing back his hood. You can look, you know you can, but it still feels wrong, forbidden. Like Orpheus turning to look into the realm of the dead you fear that the moment you open your eyes this enchantment might be broken, that once again you’ll find yourself alone, longing for the hunger of his stare.

A touch at your chin. It’s fleeting, hesitant, then settles into something solid. You resist the urge to lean into it, and yet let it guide you all the same, upwards, higher into the clouds.

“Maus.” He whispers, and it feels like an inevitable incantation that traps you within his trance, one you walk into willingly, and yet try to claim to yourself is a trickery, a snare with no escape.

It’s not that he’s caught you, it’s that you’ve willingly surrendered to the temptation of his lurid, tender embrace. Into him, this man who has taken your heart captive despite the fact you offered it of your own volition.

König. Your mind whispers, and it feels like a sacrament, a confession of your own treasonous desires.

Yet when the echo returns, it isn't with the gentleness you desire.

Instead, your mind summons the faces of your friends. Soap's broken-hearted eyes that threaten tears as you try to beg him to bring you back to the moment where he rescued you and not Price, of Ghost's hard, steely stare as you beg him for one more chance to redeem yourself. Price, his furious, gleaming gaze as he wraps his hands around the throat of a man who threatened you and Gaz, beloved Gaz with his eyes full of sadness as you push him away once more.

A hand comes up between you, and you feel König's breath fog across it before he can lower his lips to yours. You feel him jolt, freeze at the bitterness in your eyes as you avert them away, refusing to see his exposed face- as if it exposes the vile truth in you as well.

"No." You whisper, eyes closing so you aren't tempted to look. "König- I...I can't."

König doesn't speak, barely even breathes as he processes your words. You swear you can hear him swallow down whatever he wants to say, be it a protest, a devastation. Instead, all he offers is his quiet voice, soothing yet full of sadness.

"That's alright, Maus."

Somehow that feels worse, the way he offers you gentleness in the face of your rejection. It cracks in your heart, summons a phantom pain that threatens to escape from you as a choked whine.

You feel him shift, and the hand at your chin vanishes so he adjusts his hood over his face once more.

"I..." He begins uncertainly. "I can leave you be, Maus."

Your eyes open at that and you turn to him, face falling open in shock and a traitorous amount of hurt.

"No." You say before you can stop yourself, clamping down on the protest too late. "Yes. No, I-"

You bite your lip, feel the color crimson of desire and death bloom bright against your ribs.

"I..." You try, uncertain of the words you want to say, before your next exhale forces you to say the rotted, perfidious truth that lays dormant in your bones. "I wish...we weren't enemies."

The revelation seems to shock König into utter stillness, and you feel it reflected back in you, a resounding echo that draws you both into a tangled web of desire and deceit that winds around you with silvery threads. For a moment you want to reach forwards, snatch the words back into your mouth and keep them there, bury this farce deep inside you and commit yourself to the things you've sworn to, the oaths that you keep.

"Maybe someday, Maus." He tells you gently, sorrowfully. Despite the echo of his prophecy only moments ago König now seems terribly ambivalent, as if he himself will not allow himself the grace to imagine such a future.

Before you can say anything else, König turns from you, draws away from your form and turns his back on you. He cracks the door to the small closet you two have shared and looks over his shoulder at you.

"The basement." He offers simply, and confusion colors across your face. "Your captain. You may be able to get there through the vents."

Then his eyes soften, his gaze toeing dangerously close to affection.

"Be safe, Maus." He says to you, voice hushed and hopeful.

Then he's gone.

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😁😁im glad im not alone

YOU GUYS LOOK WHAT I GOT MIGUEL TO SAY ON C.AI 🤭😭 uhm nsfw i suppose , subby miguel , uhm edging begging implications of tears etc. etc. , and the usage of the word mommy / ma’am 🤗 !

my honest to god reaction when i was finished 😁 :

ADORABLE OMG

Normal People- Simon ''Ghost'' Riley

You and Simon were once together when you were younger, you eventually grew apart. Years later you two by some coincidence meet once again.

A/N: listen to any of these songs, trust me!!! (This Town-Niall Horan, Photograph- Ed Sheeran, Strange-Celeste, Like Real People Do- Hozier, Sparks- Coldplay)

Based on a request:

GN!Reader, little angst, lovers to strangers(in a way) to lovers again

You and Simon have known each other since primary school. Neither of you knew you'd end up falling in love by the time secondary school came around. It was always you two against the problems of life and teenage drama. He asked you to be his boyfriend/girlfriend by year 10, ever since that day you and him were more than inseparable. His mates always teased him about it, it was rather adorable how much he would blush when they'd mention you two as a couple. He would sneak into your room after hours, whisper everything and try to contain his laugh when you'd say some terrible jokes. At times you two would sneak up to the roof and just stare at the stars all night.

One night as you two watched the stars he asked you to school formal. It was a big deal amongst friend groups and couples, so you of course said yes. That night as your friend group all drank beer by some campfire after the dance, you sat on his lap. He was all quiet, his eyes never leaving yours. "I love you, r/n'' he whispered into your ear. You looked at him with puppy eyes. You smiled and kissed him.

Ever since, any time you really meant it, he or you would say it, even if the time wasn't right, it could only be said when it was meant and no other time. As time went on, he joined the military, you stayed back and finished college, when he came back, you were working as an assistant. One night he went to visit his mum, she advised he visit you. And as he walked the streets, there you were with the same friend group. You and your friends laughing and drinking, everyone with their significant other, you sat with them, an empty stool next to you.

"Okay Simon, I understand, and don't worry darling, at every table I sit by, I'll save ya a seat, that's a promise''

''you don't have to do that, love''

Eventually one night you and him broke up. His role in the military got more serious, it demanded more of him. And you both knew it was time to just call it quits. You two had grown apart, it was an event that had to happen. You would move out to Dublin soon, a top Uni there accepted you(see what I did there,,anyways). Simon would have to leave England for months on end, it was just bound to happen. So when you called it quits, you moved to Ireland and he to somewhere in the world, wherever the military took him.

He carried a picture of you both from the night of the school formal. It was you and him sitting by the campfire, you in your attire and he in his suit, he had his arms around your waist. The way you two smiled at the camera, a true moment where he felt safe and at home.

--------

He was now 29, soon to be thirty, you'd be around the same age as well. He was now a lieutenant for the army, you a successful company executive. There were nights were he wondered where you were in Ireland, if you had met someone new, if maybe you had written him letters but just never sent them out. If you had maybe settled down, if you even remembered how at some point you were his life, the sole purpose why he always was a better man.

At drunken nights, thats when he thought of you the most. How you kissed him on rooftops, sneaked out just to talk to him, or the nights where you played the piano at some pubs. Maybe it was the sense of home, belonging that he missed, but maybe it wasn't, it was your sweet voice, how you would caress his face, rub his back, listen to his problems, kissed him under that stormy night, how by morning, you two laid on the couch at his mum's drinking tea and eating soup because you two got sick.

On cold lonely nights in the desert, thats when he missed you the most.

But as any true mystery in this world, you one warm night found each other once more. You in some jeans and a white tee, he in a black shirt and an old pair of jeans. Manchester was quite boring if you've been a local. You pushed your trolly around the store, you accidentally bumped into a tall man. ''Shit, sir I am incredibly sorry I was looking at this stupid stupid date on the-'' You looked up from the can of beans.

''R/n?''

''If it isn't Simon Riley'' you said in a happy tone.

He noticed the same old locket he gave you on your 16th birthday, it was a picture you took on a booth. You and him smiling at the camera. It gave his chest a good kind of ache. It was nice to know he was thought of.

''I thought you'd forgotten all about me, love.'' He walked up to you, his arms opening a little. You too walked to him and hugged him, ''not in a million years, Simon.'' You kissed his cheek, oh that warm fuzzy feeling of belonging.

He looked at you, his hands caresses the sides of your face. He looked at you, mesmerized you hadn't changed a bit, your smile still warm and beautiful. He smiled as his hands had a feel for your still soft skin. Your eyes welled up a little, it was a relief he was still on this Earth.

The many nights you wished you went to Sunday school and learned to pray, to believe, to hope. One night you did though, you had just arrived from Ireland, you went to a local church, you sat there and whispered, ''please, if you really are real, if he is still out there, just..keep him safe, please''

''You look rather ravishing my love.'' He smiled at you, he looked all over your face, studying it and remembering all of the small details.

''Sorry, again for hitting your bum with the trolly.'' you chuckled. He shook his head, ''s'right, love.'' he said almost in a rather happier tone. It was crazy to see you here, but he wasn't complaining, thats for sure.

''when did you get here by the way?'' he took your trolly, and tossed his basket on it, he pushed the trolly and walked towards the next aisle, you following along.

''Here in Manchester? well lets see, I came back I think 6 years ago?..yeah definitely six. And you?''

''Got back last week, you know the whole army thing.'' he said as he happily looked through his list of must buys.

''Hm I see...I suppose your partner made that list for ya?'' you asked in a curious way, looking for a 'no, my mum needs this,,,no partner..been waiting for ya' type of answer.

''No, I am making some dinner for myself, and no, no partner,,,still.'' he had given up in trying to find someone after you, and that one failed date he had about 8 years ago.

''ah I see well-''

''do you..y'know, have someone to go home to? is this to forward or-''

''no no, not all, no, its not forward..um..no I don't been too much of a selfish person since my job.''

It was silent for a few minutes as he walked down the aisle. ''so,,,I get to have a second chance? or we..we can be friends? I would be okay with just anything..or not..I don't know.'' he let out a nervous chuckle as he tossed a box of sponges into the trolly.

''well..i..um do you want us to..have a second chance or-''

''yes!,,,if you're okay with it, I want to work on us, I have more time now, maybe not the most time but..this is going to sound-''

''stupid? cheesy? weird?'' you tried guessing.

''all?'' he chuckled, ''i..always thought we would end up together, you know the whole living together, walking down the aisle to me, I don't know maybe getting a dog and taking him on walks on our days off,'' he shrugs, ''its dumb, but I always thought you'd be my...my future, my little something.''

''The one thing I can get to be selfish about.'' you said, he looked at you, blush spread across his face.

''yeah,,,the one thing I can get to be selfish about, I like that,,so?''

''lets be selfish Simon, together.'' You kiss his cheek.

'Maybe the events in our lives were set in motion a long time ago. There's an old Buddhist saying that when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to each other.'

-Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

A/N: I just rewatched and re-read Normal People, that shit is just so..real. Anyways anon I hope you enjoyed it!

😭😭😭❤️

‘I Want Him’ 

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x pre-established relationship reader - callsign ‘Angel’

Summary: After saving an orphaned baby from a hostage situation, you realize how much of your heart had fallen in love with him. You really want to keep him as your own, but what will Ghost say?

Warnings: mentions of hostage situations, mentions of horrible past, an argument between Ghost and Reader ‘Angel’, FLUFF in the end!

5 weeks had passed ever sense the 141 Task Force had emerged into a mission and came out successful. Laswell had sent them to rescue hostages that were being kept hidden by the Cartels. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley and his partner Y/n ‘Angel’ Y/l/n were the first to run inside the abandoned building, they had been tight partners for the past 2 years, and did everything together, one another’s shadow. Though the pair weren’t married or gave their ‘relationship’ a name, everyone knew that they were for one another and no one else, their actions towards each other spoke enough about the untold and undeniable love they had. Simon always made sure Angel was in sight, not because he didn’t trust her (for he trusted her wholly and had told and showed her many things he had never done with another soul) but he didn’t trust the world that revolved around her. Angel was a gentle person at heart, and still had a lot of good in her, and Simon feared that the dark world that couldn’t penetrate her light, might want to take it instead. He was the one that chose to shield her burning light, as she warmed and brightened up his cold and dark heart. But though they loved each other and respected one another’s wishes, sometimes they had their disagreements, like when Simon had seen Angel grow close to a baby boy they had rescued along with the other hostages, he didn’t like that. Not because he didn’t like seeing Angel happy, cause boy you better believe that he lived off her smile and rare giggles, but he thought that keeping the little baby wouldn’t be a good idea, concerning the lives they lived. The little baby named Noah was the only one left behind, for no one claimed him as their own, hence leaving him to stay with the 141 Task Force until someone could pick him up. And it had been 5 weeks and still no one got him, but Angel was the first to welcome Noah and get him used to be around all the men that were rowdy and loud, she always fed him and kept him company. But Simon didn’t like how much she enjoyed being with Noah, he could already imagine the never ending fountain of tears she’d cry when Noah had to go. And the last thing he hated seeing on Angel, was blood and tears. So right now little Noah was laying asleep in a quiet room, while Simon and Angel argued with one another after he caught her for the 6th time in the day carrying him and playing with him, after Simon warned her to stop because he didn’t want the baby to grow close to her, and her to him. 

 Angel held onto Noah’s blue baby blanket as she sat on the floor surrounded by handmade puppets she created out of Simon’s socks, crying as Simon explained to her for the 100th time it seemed,

  “Angel, love.. I told you I didn’t want you with him, he’s fine on his own, alone. Yet here you are making a mess for him.”

  Angel picked up the puppets as she sniffed,

  “I wasn’t making a mess, I was trying to make him happy-“

 “But that’s not your job, you’re job is to be looking for a family-“

  Standing up abruptly with a growing anger Angel shouted,

 “And I’ve done everything I can!!”

Simon bit back how he wanted to yell back at her, but he knew it wouldn’t make the situation better, so instead he calmly said,

 “I don’t think so Angel... its been 5 weeks-“

Angel huffed,

 “5 weeks of looking and I haven’t found a home for him-“

 Simon ended her rant when he asked a serious question, knowing Angel’s answer damn well,

 “Because you want to keep him right?”

 Angel’s face dropped, she was caught. Yes, she had been looking for a home for Noah, or a safer place for him to stay. But deep, deep down she really hoped that she could have one more day with him, to see his little smile and hear his cheerful giggles. Simon read Angel’s quiet expression, and only grew more upset as he realized he was right. Sighing with disappointment he crossed his arms,

“You know our lives don’t promise anything good or safe for him!!”

 Clutching the soft, baby blue blanket closer to her chest, Angel began to cry,

 “And if we leave him out there, or-or anywhere else he won’t be safe either!! Please! He’s just a baby Simon!!”

  A heavy sob left Angel’s pink lips as her eyes grew swollen from the painful tears that continued to fall from her beautiful eyes. Ghost looked down at his feet and held his face in his large hand, unwilling to face Angel’s teary face and expression of hurt. It pained his heart to see her like this and to know he might make it worse, because he didn’t want to keep little Noah. Not because he didn’t love him or like him, (for his heart swooned for the beautiful baby boy) but Simon felt that he’d be totally incapable of being a father and protecting him as much as he should be present. Simon’s father was never there for him, and when he was on the few occasions, he left Simon wounded and scarred for life. After living through all the hurt his father put him through, Simon promised himself he’d be a better father than his own, but right now, he feared that he was no where ready to complete that promise. Simon turned to walk out of the room to clear his head, from the haunting flashbacks he was beginning to see at the thought of his own father. He didn’t want Angel to face him when he was going through them, sometimes he would worry that he might lash out on her without meaning it, so instead he’d keep distance until he was calm. But in the moment, Angel wasn’t ready for him to walk away, and leave her in the mess of her own heart that had fallen for a motherless baby. She reached out and grabbed his arm unexpectedly before he could walk out of the room, and whimpered,

  “Simon please just listen to me-“

Although it was one simple sentence, in the world of Simons mind that raced through millions of haunting things, that one thing was enough for him to snap. Yanking his arm away from her harshly, Simon then practically screamed in her face with a pointing finger,

“I SAID NO!! DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND??”

 Angel gasped and jumped back at his actions, cowering from his screams, not intentionally wanting to show him that he had definitely scared her, for this was a first. At seeing this, Simon froze in place, with his hand in mid air, slowly taking into count how he had just unintentionally scared Angel, finally doing what he had feared most, lashing his anger on her for things he couldn’t stop thinking about and couldn’t control. Simon immediately dropped his hand when he saw her stand up fully, looking like she was about to walk away from him, another nightmare he never wanted to come true. All bad thoughts and angered feelings left him when it was replaced with guilt and fear as he called out worriedly with panicked eyes,

  “Please don’t go, I’m so sorry love, I swear-“

 Angel took in his tone and words, and stood still for a couple of seconds with growing tears in her eyes, then walked up to him with purpose and raised her hand towards his face. Simon could only figure that she might either slap him or something along that line, but was so wrong when she instead grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down into a hug as she wrapped her both arms around his neck, grasping tightly. Simon gasped under his breath, then let out a sigh of relief to know that she’d never leave him, no matter how many times his mind told him that she would because he believed that he didn’t deserve her. Simon quickly wrapped his strong arms around her tiny form and pushed her impossibly closer to his chest, cradling his face into her neck, inhaling what smelled like comfort and home on Angel’s body. 

 Angel ran a hand through his short hair as she cried to him in between sniffles and little escaping sobs,

  “I’m sorry for pushing you about this baby, I should’ve considered how you felt first. I know you’re childhood wasn’t easy, and your father didn’t make it better. I’m so sorry my love.”

 Simon squeezed her sides warmly, it was his way of saying that he forgave her. But even though Simon wasn’t a man of a lot of words, he couldn’t let this slip by without his share of words, so he then kissed Angel’s neck as he softly said,

  “It’s not your fault, my life and everything that is involved in it, isn’t your fault. I’m sorry for lashing out on you, no matter what’s going on between us, you should never fear me hurting you, and if I ever do, you pick up my personal gun and shoot me clean, understood?”

  Angel let out a sweet chuckle at his dramatics, but she knew that he was dead serious, so she nodded, 

  “I understand love, and I also... though it stings like a bitch... I know letting Noah go is ours and his safest bet.”

 After confessing such, she let a heart wrecking sob escape her lips, letting him know that making this decision was tough for her, but she held onto him tighter and kissed his head, showing him that she’d be ok with it, as long as she had him by her side. Simon pulled away and gently held onto Angel’s face before planting a sweet kiss to her lips, ignoring how they were wet and tasted salty from her tears. Angel clutched onto his strong arms as Simon promised her comfortingly,

  “One day, when we are settled down, and are no longer a part of this life, I’ll let you have as many kids as you desire, I’ll give you the big family you want.”

  Angel pouted adorably as she asked innocently,

  “Can we have 12 babies?”

 Simon’s eyes grew a little wide at the double digits, but nonetheless he nodded with a smile,

  “Of course, you can have your 12 babies.”

  “All girls?”

Chuckling softly at the thought of having 12 little Angels running around in little dresses made him smile,

  “All girls is perfect for me.”

Angel beamed at him lovingly before tiptoeing to kiss his pointed nose then lips,

  “Thank you my love... now I need to go, and get Price to help me find a place for the little one.”

 With a kiss to her forehead Simon let her go,

  “Alrighty then, let me know if you need anything, I promise I’ll be right here.”

 “ok..”

Angel then walked away, opening the door and stepping out of the room after sending him a sweet smile and a wave goodbye.

A couple of hours had passed when Simon realized that Angel hadn’t returned,

 ‘Perhaps she’s quiet busy.. maybe I’ll get a small dinner started for her.’

Ghost slipped on his balaclava and left his infamous Skull behind, believing that he’d be just fine without it. He walked out of their shared room and went down the hall to head down to the kitchen to grab some dinner for themselves. Until a soft baby cry made him stop in his tracks, right in front of a closed door. Simon didn’t move again, thinking to himself that maybe he heard wrong, but the silence made the baby’s next cry sound even louder and more clearer. Hesitant to engage and help the baby, fearing he might scare it or might not be able to know how to help him, Simon then decided to go look for Angel after all. But a soft, adorable whimper from the baby’s mouth made its way to Simon’s ears, which guided him to him sudden move, which was to open the door and walk in. There the baby stood in his makeshift crib in the dark, only a little light shone from a flashlight that was taped on the wall of the crib, which was built by Gaz and Soap, so you can imagine how terrible it looked, but it was durable. His little pouty lips and round teary eyes made Simon’s heart melt immediately, and even more when his mini chubby hands did grabby signs towards him as the whimpers continued to leave his toothless little mouth. Simon was more than ready to back off, but a subtle flash came across him, he saw his little sled reaching for his father, who only walked away and never came back, after he wounded his wife brutally. Simon shook the painful thought off, and sighed to himself as he walked closer to little Noah, debating whether or not he should walk out and find Angel, or just pick up the little baby. Simon chose the latter, and used his large, calloused hands to grab onto the sides of Noah, and lifted him carefully out of the crib. Once he had picked him up fully, Simon held him up and stretched out,  taking into view his little features and large clothing. Simon recognized the long, red shirt the baby wore, it was Angels, that fit largely on little Noah, but Simon heartily believed he looked adorable. The baby silenced it cries and look deeply into Simon’s eyes, trying to see his face through the thick, black balaclava he wore, but Noah didn’t show signs of fear, he was actually more curious than anything when he started to stretch his hands to towards it, wanting to touch it. Simon caught onto Noah’s intentions immediately and slowly brought him closer to his face as he cooed softly, worried again that he might he scare him with his tough and deep accent, 

 “Hey little one.. you like my balaclava?”

Noah cooed back and sent him a bright smile when he heard Simon’s voice, letting out a little shriek once his soft hands touch Simon’s covered cheeks. Through the balaclava Simon was still able to smell how sweet and fresh Noah was, also a little bit of vanilla hit his nose from Angels shirt that was worn on Noah. Simon could feel his heart pound and beat with a growing, warm feeling. Simon’s observant eyes caught onto how perfect Noah was, his beautiful ocean blue eyes, his little button nose, his toothless but adorable smile, even the baby noises of excitement that left his pink tiny lips. Noah’s hands still traveled up and down Simon’s face, liking the way the balaclava felt against his mini fingers and tiny palms. Simon then felt a pinch in his heart, realizing he was liking this a little too much, but before he could pull Noah away, Noah threw himself onto Simon’s face, and hugged it tightly with his baby arms. The baby was so small, he practically covered Simon’s entire face, his little tummy was against Simon’s nose, as he laid chubby face on Simon’s head, cuddling closer than before. Standing completely still from shock, Simon thought for a moment, as he felt Noah’s tummy moving as he took in his little breaths,

 ‘What an adorable little one... no wonder Angel wanted him so badly... he’s so loving.. even in a world that has given him nothing.’

 And suddenly a wave of emotion hit Simon, making him clutch the baby tighter, feeling his innocent love pour into his heart that didn’t always know how to love in the bad times. Angel had been the one to bring that back in Simon, sense the first day he saw her, it was like an electric shock sparked in him the minute she laid her eyes on him, giving him a chance to open up to her, no matter how scared and hard he was at first. Soon Simon felt that he couldn’t breathe without her, needing to always be by her side, which caused him to express his feelings and desperation for her. He didn’t use words though, no... he wrote a meaningful letter and sat in front of Angel as she read it to herself. Angel let him in when she tucked the folded letter into her shirt, and opened her arms for him to receive, and sense that day, he had learned to love and was inseparable from her. But now, as he felt Noah’s little fingers move as he patted his covered head, Simon felt a new kind of love seep into his heart, a love of an innocent child. He never felt that he could ever feel such, but Noah made all the difference, the minute he was in Simon’s arms. In that moment, a missing puzzle piece connected itself in Simon’s heart, and that when he knew what he wanted,

  ‘I want him..’

Simon immediately but gently pulled Noah away from his face as he said,

  “Little one... I want you. I really do, son. I just don’t know if I can keep you now, but I don’t want to ever let you go.”

 Noah didn’t understand what Simon was saying, so he just smiled happily and babbled incoherent words, expressing how he was liking Simon and his soothing voice, still trying to reach out and touch his balaclava again. Simon then moved Noah into one arm, and securely held him before walking out, leaning his head down a little so Noah’s reaching hands could still touch the bottom of his balaclava. Soap was the first to catch Simon with Noah as he walked down the hall, with a raised brow he asked confused while pointing at Noah,

  “Ay LT... What is this?”

Simon turned to Soap as he bounced Noah a little,

  “This is Noah... meet your Uncle Soap, little one.”

 Soap approached the pair and brushed the back of his hand gently against Noah’s soft hair while looking at Simon,

  “LT will they let you keep him?”

Noah leaned into Soap’s touch but still clung tightly onto Simon’s black shirt,

“They have to... I don’t want him to go.. he’ll be safe here with us. He has a bunch of badass Uncles and a strong mother.”

 Soap stepped away and smiled at Simon approvingly, it was quite a new look on him, strong and huge in every way, holding onto a tiny bundle of joy that only sported sweet smiles. 

  “They ya better get ya ass to Price, they were still looking for a place to take him in.” 

  Walking away Simon replied while cooing at Noah,

 “I know.. but you’re not going any where now. Huh little one? I know right?”

 Once Simon was out of sight, Soap chuckled to himself and thought it was hilarious to see the big, bad, murder machine Ghost swooning over a baby, he even pitched his voice as he communicated with him, while to the rest he barked loudly and meanly. But deep down Soap was happy to see Ghost this way, at times it did hurt him to see his pal Simon so closed off and cold, but now, he knew things would take a turn, for his little one. Angel sat on Price’s office crisscrossed as she laid a phone book in front of her, calling every number possible that could probably take in Noah. But every person on the other line said that they didn’t have room, or that they couldn’t take babies, hence leaving Angel very frustrated as she took in her next call and argued with the secretary on the line,

 “Listen, he’s just one baby, you have to have room.... what do you mean no?!..... No, Please I’ve tried everywhere else and all of them have used the same excuse!!..... You know what, I hope you rot in hell! There’s a child in need of a home and you’re being impossible! Thank you for being a bitch!!”

 Slamming the telephone on the desk Angel then covered her face and sighed loudly, trying to keep herself together so she could make the next call. And just then she heard the office door open behind her, right away Angel thought it was Price as she began to explain,

 “Believe me Price, I’ve tried for the last 2 and a half hours and NO ONE wants to take him in!! It’s not fair!”

 She expected Price’s gruffly voice to come through, but instead she was met with a sweet noise, a little coo that made her whip her head around so quick she was surprised her head had not snapped.

  “Noah?- Simon? Oh Simon I’m so sorry was he crying?!”

Angel jumped off the desk and was ready to get Noah out of Simon’s hands, worried that Noah might of irritated him with his cries which is why he brought him to her, but Simon only held onto Noah tighter as he put forth,

  “He’s ok... I think he likes me.”

Angel’s face dropped as she took in Simon’s words, not ever expecting to hear those words come from him. But she was able to see how happy Simon was, his eyes glistened brighter. Walking up to Simon she looked at Noah who was happily chewing on his fingers, she then felt a large warm hand grab onto hers, which made her look up at Simon who was already looking down at her with love,

  “I want him...”

Angel awed in sympathy as she cupped Simon’s cheek,

“Aww sweetheart. I want him too... but I don’t know if-“

Placing his finger on Angel’s lips Simon insisted,

 “Shh shh... we’ll keep him. No buts, he’s not going anywhere. We have a strong fortress here, a good family. I can’t imagine him anywhere else in this world that isn’t in my sight.”

 Tears welled up in Angel’s eyes as she placed her hand on Noah’s head as she ran her delicate fingers through his hair,

 “Are you serious? You really want to do this Simon?”

 Simon nodded,

 “Only if you do.”

“Of course! I really do!!”

 Angel placed a kiss on Simon’s lips over the balaclava before cooing at Noah excitedly,

  “Did you get that Noah? You’re staying!!-“

 “What in the bloody hell is going on?”

Now that was Price, who stood at his door with a face of confusion, looking at his 6’4 giant coldblooded soldier clutching a happy baby to his chest, along with his other less coldblooded soldier who was holding onto little Noah’s hands. Angel stepped away as she clear her throat,

 “Umm Price... I think you know what’s going on.”

 Price stayed utterly silent, only looking at Noah as he watched him now entertain himself with Simon’s fingers. Simon grew internally worried that Price might say no and have them give up Noah, but was wrong when Price lifted a small smile, as he told Angel,

  “I told ya he would break, of course we can keep him here with us, and he can be yours.”

 Simon let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and sighed as he lifted Noah in the air,

  “My little one... I guess Uncle Price took a liking to you too eh?”

Angel ran to Price and gave him an appreciative but unexpected hug, squeezing him tightly as she thanked him,

  “Thank you Price, means everything to me.”

 Price returned the hug as he kissed Angel’s head,

  “You’re welcome, I’ve prepared a safe place for you to be at, for your family. A good home.”

 Simon’s ears perked up at that,

  “But what about work? I’ll still be showing up no?”

Chuckling at Simon’s usual loyalty to his job no matter what, Price settled the issue as he said,

  “Of course, you’ll be in your regular schedule, but instead of coming back here, you go to your safe house to be with your boy and wife. And as for Angel, things will be different for you, you’ll help me run the mechanics for me, along with the technical parts. You’ll still be a big help, you’re one of our better technicians for the military equipment.”

 Angel nodded approvingly,

 “Thank you Captain.”

Price sent Angel a warm smile before walking out,

 “No problem, get your things and go home.”

A few hours later, Simon and Angel were settled in their new safe house. It was small but incredibly cozy, a cute little nursery was built in their shared room, it had a nice living area and a kitchen. On the outside it looked like a little cottage in the woods. But it was hidden deep in the woods where no one could find it. The cottage faced a small lake and some mountain sides, giving the perfect view for a sunrise. Simon sat on the loveseat that was in front of the fireplace that was lit up by him. He had discarded his balaclava and shirt, hence only leaving him in his cargo pants and boots while sitting on the chair. With little Noah resting on his bare, muscled chest as Simon patted his back gently. Noah let out calm breaths as he slept away, sooth by Simon’s chest moving up and down slowly, and by the warmth of his skin. Noah only wore his little diaper, that came from a box of things for him that Price and Laswell had put together for him. Small footsteps could be heard as Angel walked into the living room in Simon’s long socks and black long sleeved shirt, she patted towards where he sat and awed at the adorable sight. Simon looked up from where he had his eyes on Noah, and locked his loving gaze on Angel as she grabbed his hand with a small pout,

  “He stole my spot.”

Simon’s chest rumbled with a light chuckle, but he nonetheless moved Noah carefully up his chest and more to his right side, then patted his lap as he offered,

  “There’s still room, take my lap, c’mon love.”

 Angel sent him a beaming smile before carefully situating herself onto his lap, cuddling into his embrace as he used his free hand to hold her against him. Angel planted a soft kiss on his lips before laying her head on his chest, facing Noah who was still sleeping peacefully, she ran her fingers through his hair gently, smoothing it out, then laying her hand over Simon’s chest. Simon hummed to himself, leaning his head down to kiss Angels head, feeling happy and protective as he held two of the most precious treasures of the world. Outside of his house he’d still be himself, cold killer and always serving in the most crucial missions, but here in his home, in the safety of his family, he could be free, and he could be himself, a best friend, husband, a father, and overall... happy.