price please domesticate me

HI EVERYONE!!! my name is rommy (sounds like rawme lol) and I use he/him and it/its pronouns pls. Im an aroace trans guy in practice, but in fiction i do love my men <3 :] im chronically obsessed with the 141, and my main content is hybrid posts, smut, and deaddove! I really try my best to answer asks, but it can be difficult, so please have some grace!

Feel free to use my stuff as inspiration! Pls tag me if u post it!!

As always, I want to keep this blog a safe space, so here's a general rule: be respectful. If you wouldnt say it to someone's face you probably shouldnt comment it, and if you wouldnt say it off anon you shouldn't say it at all!

Finally, some house keeping!

NEVER USE MY WORK FOR AI. NEVER. Im strongly against AI, including those who support it.

THIS BLOG BY FAGS FOR FAGS AND IF U DONT FUCK WITH THAT PLS FUCK OFF.

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"Sir...what the actual fuck?" You grimace, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

You're still stood in your ratty, oversized pajamas you alwayd wear. Blanket wrapped around you, the pink bunny slipped ghost bought you the only thing keeping your toes from freezing. Blearily, you look at the clock "it's one in the morning. On a weekend. On my leave."

Stood in the middle of your living room, cloaked in shadows without bothering to turn the lights on. Gaz tilts his head, then goes right back to very loudly sweeping the floor.

"....right. awesome. Glad you're happy, kyle." You huff, turning into the kitchen to flick on the light.

It's not...unusual for gaz to get like this. You've seen it maybe twice before on base. Once he spent the entire night running laps, the other you found him after dark in the gym.

You learned that he gets restless. Enough so that he breaks in to your apartment to clean the place.

You brew some coffee for you and tea for him, hoping to level out the playing fields a bit. You emerg with two warm cups, mumbling "tea, kyle. With honey, the kind you like."

He doesn't respond, of course, so you tuck yourself into the corner of your couch and wait. Kyle has moved on to dusting the walls. Vaguely, you wonder if he ever cleans anyone else's apartments.

"Come sit with me," you croon when he finally pauses to sip at the drink. Gaz stares blankly for a moment, and you watch as he slowly slips back into his body, eyes wrinkling in that subtle smile. "You've worked hard enough."

You wouldn't know it, but just being close to you helps him feel better, helps ground him. Your presence on the couch while he cleaned...it helped more than he'd admit.

Kyle falls asleep with his face mushed into your shoulder, and through the curtains you watch the sunrise. It's...nice.

The average authors experience on Tumblr:

That's it! Is that too much to ask for? Something delicious in the dead of night to hopefully cure the absolutely dreadful sleep you've been having. You've always slept better on a full stomach, and a grilled cheese is easy to make.

Or, so you thought.

Turns out, cooking anything on less than three hours of sleep the past two days will result in flames so tall they touch the ceiling. Which led to the hottest fireman you've ever seen carrying you down a ladder after you realized the fire blocked your tiny entrance hallway.

"You alright, love?" The man sits you down gently. Somewhere between your panic and his attempt to soothe he introduced himself as kyle.

"...you're the most attractive man I've ever met." You say honestly, sleep deprivation having zapped your filter.

Ghost is...well. a loner. He's socially awkward at best and aggressive at worst. Ghost kills people without flinching, looms in every corner He's in. No way he has a 'sweet girl' at home.

And yet, that's exactly what he tells the team our night at the bar. Mouth half-stuffed with greasy chips, he grunts "my sweet girl could do this better. Lovely cook."

After he broke the news about her, it was all he'd talk about.

Ghost, the guy who turns people into a fine red mists then laughs about it is the same guy that smiles "my sweet girl wants to see the movies tonight, you know how it is, cap." Or proudly shows off the lunch he's brought from home with a "i made it myself. My sweet lovie is teaching me 'ow to cook."

Always on and on about his sweet girl, about his lovie, the best thing in his life. Like a lovesick puppy.

"Oh!! Hi, simon! Glad to see you back in one piece!" You smile at your neighbor when he enters the elevator. Almost instinctively you hand over your heaviest grocery bags.

Simon, your neighbor, smiles around the scars and presses the button for you. You've been living next to him for a few months now, and embarrassingly you keep finding excuses to spend time with him. Though, you doubt he would ever reciprocate your little crush.

"Glad to see you too, sweet girl." He grins.

"Oi mean jus' that." Ghost crosses his arms, stares you down like he already knows you'll submit "can't have...those things shouting our location to the enemy, can we?"

Those things being your wings.

Bright reds, blues, yellows. As a parrot hybrid your wings have always meant so much to you. Now, after years of service with no problem, your new lieutenant tells you to dye them? You shift your wings, widen them for a moment "I've used wing covers just fine, sir."

And you have. Almost every winged hybrid you know of uses wing covers. But ghost scoffs, nods to your wings "we need you flying. Can't very well do that with covers, can you?"

"...fine." you chirp, wings hitching up in irritation. You understand it but...it's still hard to get past. "How is it done?"

Ghost makes a face under the mask, the bridge of his nose scrunching.

"...I'll have to dye them for you."

Ghost. The lieutenant who's been on your mind since you joined the team. The man you've been denying your crush on despite your instincts pointing out what I nice mate he would be.

That ghost, is essentially asking to touch you in such an intimate way only partners touch.

He knows the kind of person he is, the blood that's on his hands, and he doesn't want to make a child experience that. Some deep part of him is terrified he'll be just like his father. He grimaces at the thought of even being around kids long enough to become a role model.

That is, until he holds your baby for the first time.

She's a feisty little thing, the spitting image of her father, kyle. He had wanted to invite simon over for weeks now, show off the little miracle you made. The footie match on the telly goes completely ignored when kyle hands her to ghost, smiling "watch out, she likes to move."

"She's...small." ghost whispers, frozen in place as he cradles the baby. Wide eyes blink up at him, little arms waving as if trying to acclimate to his hold. Ghost looks between you and baby, brows pinched in worry "is she supposed to be this small? Is– is she okay?"

"Yes, she's supposed to be small, simon." Gaz answers for you, already pulling out his phone while you lean forward to adjust ghosts hands.

He's so big, baby could easily be held in two palms. She stares up at him for a moment longer, then squeals in delight and kicks her feat happily.

You watch in real time as ghost melts, leaning back into the sofa and holding the doughy little baby to his chest. His eyes crinkle into a smile, and you suddenly understand why gaz was so insistent about this.

"You're a natural, simon. She'll love you." Kyle rests a hand on ghosts shoulder. There's more behind the gesture than you can understand.

Later, while you and kyle take some much needed alone time cooking together in the kitchen, ghost will still be sat with baby on the couch. Whispering stories to her that only earn sleepy babbles.

You know it's ghost sending them, his shadow looming over the thing twisted on the side of the road. Sometimes you get a single "rabbit." Or "duck." When he thinks you won't be able to identify the animal. You asked him about them exactly once, stood under the awning of some shitty bar and on your second smoke.

"Reminds me o' you." He huffed, eyes searing into the side of your skull when you refused to look at him.

To this day, you have no idea what he meant. If you're meant to be the carcass or the one making them. A threat, or some fucked up attempt at courting. Maybe both. Maybe he just wants to be friends.

The most recent one caught the wrapper of his sandwich in the frame, eating while he observed.

"Does....does he always do this?" You ask gaz, your boyfriend, while staring in awe at simon. You vaguely knew stuff about him, kyle has been talking about simon for weeks, after all.

You just...didn't realize exactly how much he loved food from what gaz had told you.

"Babe....he's gonna choke..." you frown at Kyle's delighted expression, glancing back to watch ghost scarf down the steak you had cooked. Fucker ate it in three bites.

"You should see him eat ratpacks." Kyle jokes, though he's smiling so hard his cheeks dimple. It's cute how excited he is to have a friend over.

"Yeah, i—!" You freeze when you look back at ghost fucking licking the plate clean.

Both hands holding the ceramic up to his face, running his tongue along the inner divet, chasing after that delicious sauce from the steak and the little grains of rice. You gape at him, face heating in embarrassment because no one's ever done that for your mediocre cooking.

When ghost emerges, he looks completely unashamed before fixing his eyes on kyles plate.

"Oh– kyle i think–" you try, only for ghost to practically vault the table to make a grab for gazs plate.

Somehow, watching both of them fight over a plate of food you could easily make more of just feels...right. like home, maybe?

You hardly had time to react when the building came down. The only thing that registered was the sudden, deafening sound of wood beams splitting under the force if an explosion.

You should be terrified right now, mind lagging behind and trying to survey where you've been hurt or not.

Instead all you can focus on is the sharp, comforting scent of ghost.

The alpha is bowed over you, arms braced on either side of your head and knees squeezing your hips in the tight space. Every inhale brings in his scent and it's—

Comforting.

"Hey! Hey, are you with me, soldier?" His voice finally registers past the thumping of your blood. You let out a weak whine, your own instincts overwhelmed, and feel him physically exhale "okay. You broken?"

A shake of your head, and he calms down more. That comforting scent makes you calm down too, and you belated realize this is the first time you've properly smelt him.

He smells like leather, wood, a slight metallic note. It makes the beta in your warm and happy, you've always mentally considered him pack. Despite the debris in the air, your crane up in the small space to shamelessly rub your cheek into his neck.

"Fuckin' hell– really?" Ghost grunts above you, knees squeezing you tighter for a second.

"You...smell nice." You mumble, almost dazed.

Ghost curses more, says something about an 'instinct haze' but you don't focus on it. Instead, you nuzzle further against his scent gland, purring. You hardly notice the hard line pressing into your side, or the growing change in his scent, aroused from the close contact with the beta he's been eyeing for months.

"Christ runt–" ghost shifts, head dipping until your foreheads knock together "settle down. I can't– just stop right now, okay?"

You nod, because your alpha wants you to. You'd do anything for him.

Ghost bites his tongue and tries to listen through the rubble for the team. You're out of it, and he wont have you like this. If he takes you as a mate he wants to earn it.

Ahhhh its probably not!!(´Д` )

I've got some bug asks sitting in my inbox. Im so bad about responding to asks because everytime I write a response I re-read it and feel so lame(;_;)

Storm raging on that makes evac impossible for days, leaving you and ghost hungry. When you first rationed out the food, you had given ghost more. He had fought it but you knew he was starving when he stopped arguing on the third day.

By the fourth day, you felt it. That urge.

You know ghost could sense the change, too. Watching you watching him. Eyes wider than usual, almost...predatory. finally ghost snaps "what's with the look? You that hungry?"

"Yes." You huff, far too honest when your stomach growls, forgetting yourself "can I bite you?"

"Wot."

"Huh?"

"The fuck did you just say–"

"I really want to taste your blood, ghost." Again, your mouth speaks before you can catch up. Ghost narrows his eyes, studies the posture of your wings as if that will tell him this is all a big joke.

"Yer serious." Ghost huffs in what might be amusement, then tilts his head "you're a finch hybrid. You eat nuts and fish."

"Well. Im a vampire ground-finch," you mildly correct, shuffling across the room to lean into ghosts space. You keept taking while you pull off his jacket, wings fluttering excitedly "I enjoy blood the same as you. Just don't crave it unless I'm real hungry."

"Oh....go on, then." Ghost sits stiff while you slice into his bicep, just enough to let blood flow. Every drop lapped up with a warm tongue until ghost is flushed pink and desperately trying not to think too hard about it.

He seems to act weird and twitchy everytime he talks to you after that op.

You hope you didn't scare him off :(

Ghost is hardly a jealous man, he doesn't really care about things enough to be jealous.

Well, except for you.

You, and the bloke who's practically been attached at your arm for the past two weeks. You two talk like old friends, like you've known eachother for years. Ghost knows from eavesdropping that "me and him were always close, you know? Kind of impossible not to miss eachother after I had to move."

The thought of it makes ghost seethe. It's a startling feeling considering he's never felt so territorial over someone before. All ghost wants is a moment alone with you, just to talk, and everywhere he turns your boyfriend is there.

Well. He assumes boyfriend, with the lack of a ring. But it's impossible to know when ghost avoids him and by proxy you. The worst part? Ghost didn't realize he liked you until that dickhead came around.

"Oh, ghost! I've been meaning to catch you!" You smile when ghost finally breaks during lunch, boyfriend sat across from you at the table.

You gesture to him, missing the way ghosts hand pulls his balaclava just above his nose, "this is my—"

Ghost kisses you, both hands holding yout jae steady.

The whole mess hall goes dead silent, not that he'd care. He leans in further, having to bow down at the awkward position, licking into your mouth with a wet tongue. You can't help but melt into it a bit, ignoring the gasp from next to you.

When you finally pull away, ghost is blushing beneath the mask, your own face heated.

"This," you say, all smug and pleased as you point to the man ghost has genuinely considered killing, "...is my brother. He's visiting for the month.

....oh.

Oh yeah, ghost resource guards even when he's just a straight up human, but it's always over the strangest things....

He doesn't actually mind if people take his food, given that its only you or the team taking it and he knows he can get more later. Hungry moments are no stranger to him, so he hardly even blinks when he's only eaten two crisps yet his plate is nearly empty.

But if you take the seat that he has arbitrarily decided is his? He will genuinely pull a knife. Has done so mutliple times and is the reason price has a long scar across his calf.

Taking the items he's customized, rifle, tac-vest, whatever, will get you shot. Yes, he's done it before. No, they did not survive.

Practice! (´_ゝ`) ik its not the answer you want, but it's the truth!!

Which isn't to say you need to practice before posting, but that posting is the practice. Don't worry about being perfect, or else you'll never post at all!!

The bugs and dirt embrace him when he lies in the now-dry river bed that will soon be running with water next season. Cold and damp from morning's rain, the smell of petrichor lingers in his clothes.

That's how you find him. The stranger taking a nap in your backyard.

Well, technically this isn't yet your backyard, you still need to sign some papers. Currently the land belongs to your late uncle, owner of a large chunk of forest. You used to run through these woods as a child visiting in the summer. It was only natural he leave the place to you.

"Uh. Hello?" And now there's a fucking stranger in your river bed. He's big, wearing old clothes. You glance at the net of scars over his face, and mildly wonder if he's a veteran or something. "sir? Are you alive?"

The man peeks an eye open, wrinkles his nose at you in scrutiny before he huffs "what do you want, kid?"

"Are you....okay?" You ask, frowning at the dirt on him. You've always been too kind, generosity outweighing self-preservation when you add "are you hungry? It's awful cold out. You'll freeze."

The stranger closes his eyes and says nothing for a solid five minutes. Just as you're about to leave, he rolls onto his side and begins to stand "wot're you eating?"

Which is how ghost ends up sat in your kitchen, eating soup while his jacket dries by the fire.

He's....strange. funny. Kind-of nice, in a roundabout way. Like when he insulted your choice to toss food scraps in the trash instead of making a compost pile, then offered to weed your uncles garden that had gotten out of hand.

He knows so much about...everything, really. He points at bugs and tells you facts about them, fixes some things around the house.

You end up offering him a place to stay if he helps out, something to do on leave.

Now, every few months ghost can be found sleeping in your garden before you drag him in for tea.

Weird bloke.