John Soap Mctavish X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Thinking about a mechanic!AU where the 141 boys run a garage and need a new receptionist. They hire you because you’re just so cute (great tits) and have a decent resume but it becomes a slight problem when they realize you’re a bit… dense.

Total ditz to be precise.

But they can’t really get mad when you get the keys for clients mixed up and look at them with those big eyes all teary and a little pout pushing out your lower lip.

Price is the most patient, perfectly content to walk you through how to file paperwork and fill out forms. Instructing you in a low voice while his breath brushes the shell of your ear. It’s really their fault for having such a terrible system, you know? Don’t worry about it too much, dove. He’ll settle his big hands on your shoulders and gently trace up and down your arms. See? You’re getting it. Just needed some more practice, hm?

Johnny is more than happy to show you around the garage, rattling off everything he knows about all those nitty gritty details that go right over your pretty little head. He’ll pop open the hood of some sports car and point to the engine to show it off. No, bonnie, you’ve got tae get in close. Closer.

Until you’re bent entirely over in one of those too-short skirts you wear everyday. It takes all his willpower not to yank you into the supply closet.

Gaz is just so sweet to you. Always bringing you little treats and candies to suck on. To help you concentrate, of course. Always greeting you with a soft ‘baby girl’ at the beginning of your shift. Whenever you’re standing around be it at the printer or counter - wherever really - he’ll slip a hand on your waist. It always trails a little lower, his pinky just edging on the hem of your too tight jeans.

Ghost gets frustrated with you to the point of causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes. He’s feels guilty, sure, but bloody hell just print the damn receipt. He avoids you for the most part. Until one evening when it’s pouring down. You forgot your rain coat of course, silly girl. He offers you a ride which you take happily.

After that he can’t get rid of you. You bring him coffees (how you remember his order word for word but not where you last left your own cup is beyond him) and giggle at his jokes. When a client gets too snappy or too loud he’s the first to step in - standing behind you glaring at them with his huge arms crossed over his chest until they back down.

AAaaaaansnsjshisjshdhdb 🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️

Fuck it I have writers block and can’t think of anything so why no make C.ai bots for the cod boys fantasy beast AU

!werewolf!soap with a human S/o

a sign that he’s getting ready to turn is that he chows on your clothes or shows and other dog like behavior

when he does transform and starts rubbing his scent all over the house and once he feels everything is covered in him he’ll start following you around the house in hopes to catch you in the perfect moment and rub his scent on to you

“Johnny stop I’m trying to rest” you’d whine “hush Bonnie” he’d shoot back

has a massive breeding kink he definitely want to have about three or kids with you he claims that he wants to make a strong pack with you ever if the kids are human

you’d be in the your hospital room holding you sweet child and he’ll be like “hmm let’s have another”

!Vampire!ghost with a human s/o

His diet consists of blood bags and sometimes a bloody stick he only fed from you once and that was in the bedroom

“you alright luv” his rough voice came out from you neck “…huh yeah” you’d murmur back to dazed by the feeling of being drank from

Has a primal kink he just loves chasing you around the house the pour though of hunting you down thrills him

“I can hear you heart beating from miles a way there’s no win this game of ours* he says throwing you over his shoulder with a dark chuckle

Almost accidentally hypnotized you in to want a baby but we don’t need to go over that story

Y/n : I wish there's someone who appreciates my love language

Soap : what's wrong with it?

Y/n : they say it's too aggressive.

Soap : what?

Y/n : what?

Ghost, who was being hugged to death by y/n : i-i agree

P.s repost and comments are appreciated

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AHHHHHHHHGGGG just thinking about toxic fwb!simon who treats you, one of his sergeants, like nothing but his stupid little barracks bunny. he can’t help but want to constantly push his fat fuckin cock into you from behind, whether it be in your bed, in the alley of some pub, or in the bathroom during morning drills. it’s never in his bed because he knows you’ll want to stay; it’s easier if he’s able to just get up and leave. it’s always from behind because he doesn’t want to look at your face. miss him with that romance shit.

you just kinda deal with it. he fucks you good, right? it totally doesn’t hurt your feelings. it totally doesn’t suck that you’ve been infatuated with him since the moment you met. you totally didn’t fall for the way he gives orders, the way he’s so dedicated to keeping the team safe and on task. you totally didn’t have feelings for him, and you’re totally not only letting him use you because it’s better than him treating you like you’re invisible. it’s… fine????

yeah, it’s fine because it’s soap who sees your sad face one night after you and simon return from outside. simon immediately sits back down for another drink, meanwhile, you struggle to walk back to your own seat. you’re clearly worn out and your face is a bit sullen. it’s not like nobody knew what was going on. you and ghost weren’t exactly subtle, but soap didn’t think it was right for you to look so sad after getting your brains fucked out. it just didn’t make any sense.

that’s why he starts showing up outside of your door instead of simon. he tells you he just can’t sleep, and he needs a friend. he just so happens to show up just five minutes before ghost does every single night.

that’s why whenever simon gives you that look while you’re all out at the pub, johnny pulls you over and asks you to dance with him. that’s why he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear as you both look at each other with a tipsy gaze. he leans in and smiles at you before whispering, “you’re beautiful, lass. you deserve the world.” that’s why he kisses you, and he takes you home.

he doesn’t fuck you. not that night. instead, he throws on a movie, and he holds you until you fall asleep. the next morning, he takes you out for breakfast, and the next week, he’s got you in his lap, and he tells the team that you’re “his girl,” planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek.

and all simon can do is watch as jealousy and regret bubble in his stomach and threaten to spill from his mouth in the form of bile.

but he swallows it back, and he just watches as you start ignoring his looks, his 3AM text messages, and knocks on your door. instead, you opt for nights in johnny’s bed with sweet kisses and missionary and mating presses as he looks at your face, presses his lips against yours, and tells you how beautiful you are. he lets you - no, he begs you to stay the night with him.

and all simon can do is watch.

(more here)

a/n: sorry i just needed to get this out of my brain.

the worst groomsman ever - john 'soap' mactavish

johnny wanted you. but not in the way that your husband wanted you. johnny had been such a good man to your husband, he basically was the groom given how much he helped you out!

so, he deserved a little 'thank you' for all the help. while you tried offering him money, he wanted something different. and that left you, on your wedding day, under john mactavish.

it was three hours before the wedding was supposed to start and johnny finally got his wish of being able to batter that sweet pussy with his impressive cock. he was very proud of the fact that he was a little over eight inches, and that every last inch could fit in your cute little cunt.

if he didn't have you in a headlock in that moment as his tip kissed your womb, he would've used up all the storage on his phone taking photos and videos of you taking him so well.

"aye, you like when my cock touched yer little womb." he growled in your ear. you were fighting back tears as he pummeled your pussy, bruising you, "gotta put a bit of me in ya before ya marry yer man."

he continued to fucking ruin you on the bed, your dress hung so neatly by the large mirror. it was your wedding day and you were getting your pussy ruined inside out by a man you weren't going to marry.

"such a pretty gal." he purred, "might not marry ya, but i'll keep that tummy nice and pudgy." he licked the tear off your cheek and you almost came in that moment.

johnny was a sick fuck.

when he finished, you heard a knock on the bride suite. it was johnny's cue to disappear before people started to wonder where he was. he gave that bare pussy a pat before he was doing up his tie.

the wedding went off without any problems. you kissed your husband on the lips as johnny's pearly cum made roost in your womb.

however, it was difficult to explain nine months after your wedding why your newborn son had dazzling blue eyes despite your husband having a soft brown. and why johnny had been so eager to help you set up the nursery. <3

(i want to apologize to the sanctity of marriage)

A Little Blood Never Hurt Nobody ✦ ︎John “Soap” MacTavish

Kinktober Day VI: Period Sex

summary: the best boyfriend in the world relieves you of your pain tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, period sex, vagina blood, john being the sweetest gentleman, fluff, soft sex, p in v, pet names, praise, author tries really hard at accents wc: 2k a/n: not me being on my period rn

MASTERLIST

You settled into the cozy embrace of your makeshift cocoon, surrounded by layers of warmth - a plush comforter and soft blankets enveloping your body. Nestled within this comforting sanctuary, you applied a heating pad to your stomach, its gentle warmth soothing the persistent discomfort caused by the pinching of your uterus. A full bottle of water stood within easy reach on your nightstand. Despite the discomfort, you found solace in the carefully prepared comforts that eased the pain sensation, allowing you to find a semblance of relief within the embrace of your bedding.

All you need is your man, the one you were missing dearly.

John had went to the store to buy you some supplies: enough pads and tampons for the week and a list of your favorite snacks so you won't get hangry.

As you lay in bed, struggling to keep your heavy eyelids from closing, you were jolted awake by the distinct sound of the front door clicking shut. The rustling of plastic bags filled the air, growing louder as the footsteps approached the door to your room.

“Ay, sweet bonnie,” he says as he enters the room. He greets you with a warm smile, his eyes lighting up as he steps closer. He carefully places the bags on your bed, the weight causing the mattress to dip slightly. You slowly peek out from underneath your cozy bedding, feeling curious and excited as you glance from the bags to his face.

“Thank you,” you say, sitting up, digging through the grocery bags, pulling out the treats waiting inside. You heard John laugh, taking the boxes of feminine products in his arms. Never mind a week; these will last you months.

“Anythin’ fer ye’” he winked, adoring you with his loving gaze.

“Ah’ll go stash these aweay,” he ducks into the bathroom, boxes in hand. Your eyes were glued to his large biceps, each covered in intricate tattoos running up and down his muscular arms. You bit your lip as your gaze traveled lower, noting the plush roundness of his ass and the thick hardness of his thighs.

“John?” You called out, setting the bag of snacks to the side. He called back, the sound of boxes knocking around before the swift sound of a cupboard closing followed.

"Can you come here?" You asked, your fingers gently grasping the edges of the soft sheets. Obediently, he reappeared in the doorway, his eyes meeting yours with an expectant gaze. "Need somethin’ else, princess?" he teased playfully, his tone warm and affectionate. You knew he would go to any lengths to fulfill your requests, whether big or small. His willingness to please you was evident in every gesture and word.

"Yes," you respond quietly, meeting his piercing gaze with apprehension and anticipation. You hope that he'll understand your unspoken message. A faint smirk tugs at the corners of his lips as he crosses his arms, his icy eyes never leaving yours. His gaze briefly flickers to your concealed body before he takes a silent step forward, his presence looming over you from the edge of the bed.

“Ye gonnae tell me, or am I gonnae have tah figure it out?”

"Please, John," you pleaded, your heart racing as you reached out for him, your small fingers sliding against his warm, calloused digits, urging him to come closer. John hesitated momentarily, his eyes searching yours for reassurance, before finally complying with a mix of a weary sigh and a grunt. He shifted in front of you, his muscular frame towering over you, and with a gentle yet firm touch, he peeled back the soft comforter as he settled in facing you.

“Only because ye look so desperate.” he chuckled, taking the heating pad and tossing it to the side, replacing it with his hands. His touch caressed and massaged your lower stomach, pulling an airy sigh from your chest. After a few moments, he slipped them up higher, pulling your thin tank top from your body and tossing it to the floor.

His hands cupped your tender, swollen breasts, gently squeezing them as he sighed; his gaze zeroed on your body with a burning lust as he kneaded the soft, doughy flesh of your chest. You let out a soft whine, your body sinking further into the mattress, enjoying the feel of John’s large, warm hands pawing at your pliant body.

“Gorgeous girl,” he purred, his fingers dipping into the seam of your shorts before slipping them off your legs, leaving you fully nude in front of him.

“Gonnae make ye feel all better,” he promised, reaching behind his back to tug his shirt over his head, showcasing his thick and hairy chest trailing down his hard muscles and into his jeans. He tugs off his belt before sitting to the side to shuck off his pants, followed by his briefs.

“I love you,” you whispered as he crawled back over you, bracketing you with his thick arms. He grinned down at you, his smile toothy and his eyes crinkling.

“I love ye too, sweet girl,” he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before descending to your lips, groaning into your mouth as his hand pumped his growing erection, preparing himself to enter you.

You looked down, moaning as you watched him jerk himself off. As he slowly pumped closer to his tip, you licked your lips as pre dribbled from his slit, sliding down towards his fingers. You reached outwards, wrapping your hand around him, your fingers barely touching with how thick he was. Collecting his pre cum in your digits, you swiped them down his cock, coating his cock in his slippery essence for a smoother glide.

He grunted above you, his eyes narrowing as his lips parted, moaning from your soft touch. You squeezed his base, guiding him towards your bleeding hole, pulsing with desire.

The moment his tip caught against your entrance, John was pushing his hips forward, his cock sliding inside, filling you up completely with little to no resistance.

“Steamin’ Jesus, yer so tight!” John hissed, his hands wrapping around your middle, burying his face in your neck as he pushed his hips forward. His dog tags clinked as they pressed against your chest, the cool metal causing you to shiver.

You whimpered as his hips pulled back before pressing back in. You could tell he was trying to be gentle, but if his loud noises were anything to go by, you knew he wanted to pummel you into next week. You wrapped your arms around his neck, gripping your nails into his back as he picked up a steady rhythm, his deep strokes punching the air from your lungs.

John leaned up on his hands, his chain dangling in front of you as his blue eyes stared down into yours. One hand curled over the headboard as the other planted against your lower back, arching your hips closer to his thrusting cock.

“Fuck, ye feel so damn good,” he moaned, more words of praise spilling from his mouth as he pounded you into the bed, his fingers trailing toward your pussy before reaching underneath your hood and rubbing circles onto your clit.

You glanced downwards at your combined bodies; eyes glazed over as his cock pulled out before sinking back in, coated in a mixture of your blood and arousal, creating a thick and slimy texture that stuck to your thighs.

“John,” you whimpered, mouth falling open as your cunt clenched around him at the sight, his thumb rubbing faster at your sensitive nub as his pace quickened. You tossed your head back, hands reaching behind you to grasp onto the pillow underneath your head, eyes squeezing shut as you moaned uncontrollably.

“I ken, I ken,” he grunted, his pace faltering slightly, hips stuttering as his cock twitched hard inside you, hitting your G-spot over and over with each involuntary jump.

You were so much more sensitive than usual, not just your quivery pussy but your body as well; each touch and simple caress of his rough hands felt like they were melting away your skin, their heat licking fire into your veins, causing your head to spin and your limbs to tremble.

“M’gonna cum!” you wailed, crying out as John lifted your hips higher, his cock slamming even deeper inside you, barely pulling out as your greedy pussy clamped around him as if it couldn't bare the thought of him leaving you like it had a consciousness of its own.

“Me too, fuck!” He whimpered, his blunt nails digging into the flesh of your waist, tugging you down onto his prick with every forceful thrust of his hips.

With one final thrust, you felt his warm cum spurt inside of you, rope after rope, as John’s slow grinds triggered your release; you both moaned in unison, clutching onto each other for dear life as you both rode out your highs together, debauched sounds of pleasure filling the confined space of your bedroom.

As John pulled out of you, a pink mixture of your combined fluids leaked out of you, paused by John’s thumb as he pushed it back in, groaning at the sight of your stretched hole spreading wider to accept him.

"Feel better?" he asked, his voice slightly breathless as a proud smile spread across his face. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath as he looked down at you, studying your expression for any signs of discomfort.

You smiled a lazy, contented smile, your eyes barely peeking open to look up at him. A warm, post-sex glow illuminated your face as you nodded slowly, still trying to catch your breath.

He leaned down, pressing a hard and wet smooch to your stomach before pulling back to kiss your clit, sucking it into his mouth with short flicks of his tongue.

“John!” you whimpered, tugging him away by his hair. He let out a loud bark of laughter, slapping the side of your thigh before reluctantly pulling away. “Jus’ showin’ her some extra love,” he winked before laying beside you and pulling you into his chest.

“Wan’ me teh run ye’ a bath?” he asked, nosing his face against your cheek before kissing your temple. You nodded before burying your face into his chest, letting out a deep sigh as you closed your eyes, letting sleep overtake you.

You were awakened when you felt arms scoop underneath you, gently carrying you into the washroom.

“Sorry, I had teh wake ye.’” you looked up at John’s face as he settled you into the warm water, bottles of bath oils, and a bag of bath salts sitting on the side.

He settled in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you into his chest, resting his head over your head. You could feel his cock begin to harden behind you before his mouth began pressing messy kisses against your shoulder.

You looked behind you, meeting his lips with a slow yet passionate kiss of your own before turning around to face him, before reaching behind you to grab his cock. His hands traveled up your waist as you sat down, his cock slipping back inside you, pushing his cum back into your body.

You slumped against him, pressing your cheek against his chest as you warmed his cock. Closing your eyes again with another pleasure-filled sigh, you buried your nose into his neck, relishing his gentle touch as his hands massaged your back. John watched you with a loving smile, kissing your head as you fell back asleep in his embrace. He knew he would take good care of you—just like he always did.

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Sweet Like Cinnamon ✦ John “Soap” MacTavish

Kinktober Day IX: Praise Kink

summary: just tell him he’s a good boy, okay? tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, the author tried really hard at accents, degradation in the beginning, fingering, cunnilingus, praise, fluff, body worship, john being a suckup, pet names, p in v, facesitting

wc: 1.1k

MASTERLIST

“M’sorry, hen! M’sorry!” Your boyfriend whimpered from beneath you, his body convulsing, clinging desperately onto your hips as you bounced on top of his length.

“Hush.” You demanded, pressing your palm to his lips, glaring down at him as he gazed up at you, his brows upturned and tears forming in his eyes. He arched his back, chasing the pleasure you were giving him as you slowed your pace to a slow grind.

“Please!” Came his muffled sob. His pleading eyes stared up at you as his hips bucked up into you, his feet planted on the bed as leverage to fuck into your tight pussy. You raised your hips until only his tip was left inside. You watched John squeeze his eyes shut, bracing himself for when your hips dropped, enveloping his cock in your gummy walls.

He whispered your name underneath your hand, peering his eyes open when you kept still, placing your hand against his pelvis, pushing him towards the bed as you steadied yourself. You removed your hand from his mouth, settling it beside the other.

You raised one eyebrow in a subtle display of skepticism, locking eyes with his tear-filled gaze with your own icy, unwavering stare. After silence, you watched John’s shoulders relax, his tense muscles unwinding as he released a choked sigh.

You grinned, sinking onto his thick cock, spearing yourself with an airy sigh, moaning out as the tip of his cock snuggly pressed up against your sore G-spot, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“M’serious bonnie,” John whined, his fingers sinking into your skin. “M’really–”

“I thought I told you to be quiet,” you growled, quickly setting an unforgiving pace, raising your body on and off his cock, pistoning his cock in and out of your sopping pussy, using him for your pleasure as you chased your high.

For the past hour, you've been keeping him on edge, refusing his release while you chase yours over and over. You were angry because he canceled the date he had planned at the last minute, claiming he was out with his friends while you were getting ready.

John's heart sank as he heard the deafening silence on the other end of the phone. It spoke volumes, conveying a message of anger and disappointment that needed no words. Hastily bidding farewell to his friends, John made a beeline for home, his mind racing with thoughts of what awaited him. When he arrived, he found you already dressed in your regular attire; your expression twisted into an angry scowl. It was clear that he was in for it.

“I ken, I ken,” he whimpered, his blunt nails piercing your soft skin, leaving crescent shapes in their wake. “I’ll… I’ll make it up teh ye’.” he moans, tilting his head back, baring his neck to you.

“You are making it up to me,” placing your hands against his pectorals, one hand wrapping around his throat, squeezing gently. “Right now,” you finished with deep breaths, glaring down at his pliant body.

John reached up, gripping the hand squeezing his throat. He reopened his eyes, mouth falling open as whorish moans echoed through the room, reverberating off the walls and into your ears. Your eyes softened at his pretty face contorted in pleasure, his gaze teary and pleading as your fingers curled deeper into his neck.

“Sweet boy,” you murmured, picking up the pace, fucking him until you were both moaning out uncontrollably. You arched your back, resting your hands on his knees, grinding your pussy back and forth, side to side, and in quick circles as his cock twitched inside you.

“You gonna cum for me? Hm?” you could tell he was nearing his release, smirking as he swiftly nodded, his eyes wide, pale blues sparkling with anticipation and desire.

“Go on, baby,” you purred, rubbing your nails through his sweaty brown locks sticking to his dewy skin. “Come for me.” Your smile widened as he let out a sharp cry, his hands pushing and pulling at your smaller body as his hips fucked into you in tandem, his cock jerking angrily inside of you before it jumped, spurting endless ropes into your womb with a silent scream.

“Good boy,” you cooed, refusing to slow your pace until he let out a painful groan, pulling your body up and off his sensitive cock. You cringed as his release slipped out of your gaping pussy, spilling onto his softening erection and down his length, coating his sack in a lewd mixture of your fluids.

John let out another whimper, lifting his head as he watched the sinful display of your combined releases coating his cock, causing a deep shiver to run up and down his body.

You smirked down at him, hands perching against the headboard as you shifted your body above him until your knees rested on either side of his head, trapping him underneath you. John stared up at you, his eyes unblinking as his mouth parted in awe.

“You gonna be good and clean me up?” you asked condescendingly, tilting your head to the side, your hair following suit.

He nodded again, running his hands up and down your body. His voice was airy and low as he whispered, "Please…”

“I’ll give you what you want,” you promised as you lowered your dripping cunt onto his mouth, tilting your head back with another sigh. “Fuck that's it,”

You ground your hips back and forth, moaning out as his tongue fucked in and out of your soft folds, sucking your clit into his mouth as he made out with your pussy, sounds of his muffled sucking and slurping causing heat to rise to your cheeks and yet he never seemed so at peace with your thighs clenching around his head.

“Fuck John, I'm so close!” you cried, digging your nails deep into his scalp, guiding his movements as you rocked forward, chasing your high, wailing out as you stared up at the ceiling before your eyes rolled back; your vision going dark as you let out one final cry before drowning his face in your essence, jerking your pussy over his face until his nose dug into your delicate pearl. He shook his face from side to side, burying his face deeper in between your thighs, swallowing your sweet slick, not caring if he couldn't breathe.

“Such a good boy,” you whispered, your grip relaxing before running through his hair, swiping back the strands stuck to his skin. He whined against your core, large hands tugging you forward when you tried to lift them away.

“Please,” came his garbled plea, fingers digging into the plush skin of your ass. “One more time,” he panted, his tongue flicking around your sensitive nub pulsing in response.

“Only because you asked so nicely,” you grinned, your chest heaving with exertion, but you knew couldn't say no—not to him.

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Thinking about this cod fanfic and I need help finding it 💀💀

I think it was either soap or ghost?? Maybe even Konig??? Or price??? And like, they have a wife reader who takes care of 1-2 kids. And like, the fathers at the school thinks she's a single mom and always flirt with her. Because they never see Soap/Ghost/Konig around. And mom/wife reader is friendly cause she's like,"it's the right thing to do right??"

And so once Soap/Ghost/Konig are home for a bit, the kids tell them and attends the kids/school event going on dressed in their military gear or smth. And like, the dads are shocked and the moms flirt over him n stuff.

Idk it's been on my mind 💀💀 por favor I need that fic found LMAO

Okay I got some headcanons of Soap and Civilian Reader in the wips 👁👁 and i plan to finish tonight or tmr ???

Soap and Ghost with a s/o on their period

Warnings: period blood, fluff

A/n: I feel like I’m bleeding out rn and need to vent

Ghost:

Is absolutely not grossed out by your period, I mean this man sees blood everyday, he’s used to it, plus it’s natural right? As long as it’s coming from a menstrual cycle and not some major wound, he’s good

Is absolutely clueless when it comes to female issues. Like he knows all the medical stuff of what’s happening to you and why it’s happening but as far as how to comfort you and make you feel better? Completely clueless. He’s never really had a close enough relationship with another woman to have to deal with this.

Not saying he won’t help you out though, just need’s a little guidance. Will 100% do anything you tell him to. He’d be your good little soldier. You want take out? He’s calling it in. You want a warm bath? He’s carrying you to the bathroom.

Would probably sit on the side of your bed rubbing a large hand over your back or through your hair.

Though if you don’t feel like being touched and want distance? He’s a big boy, he can take no for an answer and not pout about it. “That’s fine doll, whatever you need.” Though he’ll still be coming in the room ever thirty minutes to check in on you with an “You alright, love?”

Will give you one of his gigantic shirts to wear since you don’t want tight fabric rubbing against you right now.

Would do everything around the house for you without being asked. It’s how he’d show he cared since he wasn’t one for lovey dovey words. Feeling guilty, you’d keep trying to get up to help him, despite his many refusals. About the fifth time he’d eventually just pick you up over his shoulder and carry you back to bed himself.

.“Nope, you’re gonna sit your little arse in bed and let me do the bloody dishes.” “But it’s not fair for you to do all the dirty work.” “I’m not the one bleeding out my a**.”

Your snarky reply of “That’s not exactly where it’s coming from” has him slamming the bedroom door in your face. Would definitely just pop back in your room a few minutes later with a tub of ice cream though.

Soap:

Like ghost, he’s not grossed out at all by your period.

Unlike Ghost, I feel like he would know exactly what to do for you. Chocolate, flowers, basically makes you a whole nest on your bed of pillows, blankets, stuffed animals, etc. Basically, he would just be absolutely perfect.

This man is a major cuddler and you can’t convince me other wise. Would spoon you from behind while holding a heating pad to your aching stomach. Running his other hand up and down your side and back.

But, he too, would of course understand if you didn’t want to be touched. Would maybe joke around and pout at you a little,”If ye’ don’ love me no more, jus’ say that.” But would end up kissing you on the head, “I’m jus’ kiddin, that’s fine sweetheart.” And would leave you alone as long as you needed

If you live separately and your period starts while at his place, you’d be surprised to find that he already has supplies. He’d here your muffled curse from the bathroom, “Honey? You alright?” You’d be a little embarrassed at first, telling him what’s happened and that you, in fact, did not have anything with you. “Oh, that’s alrigh’. Check the bottom drawer on the lef’ for me, should be somethin’ in there.” You’d instantly feel calmed by how nonchalant he was being about it. Though that quickly turned to shock as you open the drawer. There’s an array of pads and tampons of different sizes. Even has an extra pair of underwear which, when you check the tag, is your size. When questioned, he just smiled and told you “A soldier’s always prepared.” Which you then gave him possibly the deepest kiss of your life just for his thoughtfulness.

If you started at night and bleed over on his sheets he’d make absolutely no fuss about it, instantly waving away your embarrassment with a smile. If you try to apologize for it he would be having absolutely none of it. Cups your face, “Hey, no. None of tha’. This is completely natural, nothin’ to be ashamed of. Nothin’ a good soak won’ fix.”

Would 100% be making all kinds of puns about it. “Gotta say swee’heart, your’ looking bloody sexy right now.” And you’d so not be in the mood. If looks could kill

I just read your tattoos tell a Story and I got a random idea (also i love your writing) but I can see reader being friends with soap and while ghost is out on a mission (maybe solo or something) the two get a classic best friend tattoo

if you wanna use this go ahead just thought i would share

also, you dropped this 👑

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader, John “Soap” Mactavish x reader(platonic only).

Warnings: Short intense make out session at the beginning, other than that?, fluff?, some swearing but it’s sensored.

A/n: Your comment honestly made my day🥰 thank you so much for this wonderful idea!

“Mm, I missed you.” You admit, pulling Ghost in for another kiss not caring that your breath hasn’t caught up from the last.

“Missed you too darlin’. So much.” He breathes in between pecks, grip firm on your waist. Pulling you in as if no bodily contact was enough for him. And that’s saying a lot considering how much bodily contact was occurring between you. Almost no part of your entire being was deprived of his touch at the moment. Thighs pressed against thighs, stomach against stomach, chest against chest. Not even a hair could fit in the space your bodies do not fill.

Your hands hold tightly to the short locks of his hair, black balaclava being removed in the privacy of his room in the 141’s base. Simon is starting to realize just how much he loves your hands there.

His kisses begin trailing downward, first your neck, somehow immediately hitting that pulse point that makes you squirm, before trailing lower, down your shoulder, bicep, inner elbow, forearm. He’s so thorough you’d think he was trying to memorize your whole anatomy, he probably is. Until abruptly, he stops.

You slowly blink away the haze your mind has been trapped in, confused by his mouths disappearance. “Si?”

He slowly lifts your arm by its wrist, straightening up from where he was bent slightly over.

“Whas’ this? Wasn’ here before.” And that’s when you realize what he’s looking at, the tattoo, placed towards the bottom of your forearm. You don’t know why, but for a quick second you’re worried that he might be mad about the change you made to your body without his permission. Past trauma you’d guess. But a quick look at his face and a survey of his tone tells you he’s not irritated at all, just curious. Of course he wouldn’t be, it’s Simon.

With the now known knowledge that he’s okay with it, you start to get giddy. A huge toothy smile overtaking your face. All heat from the rather intense make out session completely forgotten in the face of your excitement.

“I forgot we hadn’t told you about that!”

“We?” He questions with furrowed brows, though you ignore him.

You grab the balaclava from his bed, “Here put this on.” You shove it over his head, earning a huff from him as he had to adjust it from where it awkwardly covered his eyes, “It’d be easier if I just showed you.” All of 141 has already seen his face, though you know he’s more comfortable with it on.

You grab his hand, not allowing him time for any more questions before dragging him out the door and down the hall, until you reach the door you were looking for.

Simons head turns towards you,”Why are we at Mactavish’s room?” He asks in suspicion. What had you two idiots done?

You give him a mischievous smile and knock on the door, receiving a distinctly Irish “come in.”

You waste no time in busting through the door. Soap’s sitting on his bed watching some kind of cheesy cooking show, to which Ghost gives a slightly amused smirk under the mask. He’ll definitely be hearing about that later.

“Lt., y/n. To wha’ do I owe th-“ You don’t even let him finish the sentence

“You haven’t showed him?” You hold up your arm for emphasis.

He immediately knows what you mean,”Would’ve, if he wouldn’t of bloody left all of us for his “solo mission”.”

You both know he’s just poking fun, though it still earns him a glare from your boyfriend. Soap glares back, buts it’s all in good nature. At least you think it is.

You roll your eyes, “Alright boys, lets stop comparing sizes shall we?”

You’re not sure about Ghost, but Soap blushes and turns his head away sheepishly. Ghost does too.

“Now, back to the important stuff.” You turn towards Johnny,”Arm, now.” You demand, giving him a “come here” motion.

He leaps off the bed, rolling up his sleeve as he walks up to you with a slight childish skip to his step. He holds out his arm as if it’s show and tell. You do the same with yours. You look at each other, a sh*t-eating grin on both your faces as you try to contain your child-like giggles, before turning to gouge Simon’s reaction.

He stares at your conjoined arms with that same expressionless look to his eyes. He looks back up, flicking his gaze between you two.

There’s a tense silence.

Until

“What the f*ck is that?”

And that’s the drop of water that breaks the dam. You and Soap absolutely loose it, laughing so hard you can’t see through your tears. Forced to lean on each other for support when your knees become too weak.

“Come on Lt., ya know it’s f*ckin’ funny.” Johnny wheezes in between belted laughs, lightly patting your back.

“Yeah Si!”

He completely ignores your taunts, shaking his head as if scolding children,”Idiots, the lot of you.” He says it light enough to where you’re not worried he’s actually annoyed, before turning to leave, closing the door behind him, successfully cutting off Mactavish’s, “Ah come on Ghost, live a l-“

And if he lets out a little amused huff when he shuts the door, well, Johnny never has to know.

-+-

Later that night, in the dark safety of your own bedroom, in which Simon is staying the night, you hear a slight rumble from his side of the bed. Your eyes snap open, afraid he’s having a nightmare of some sort. Wouldn’t be the first time. Slowly, as to not startle him, you turn towards him with practiced ease, prepared to gently calm him from his panic as you always do. Until you see his expression in the dim moonlight coming from your window, eyes catching on the white of his teeth.

“You’re laughing.” You state incredulously.

“No I’m not.” He defends as if you can’t see him chuckling right in front of you

You can’t help but smile, his joy infectious,”Yes, you are. Why are you laughing?”

For a second he just continues on, not answering, until he calms himself down enough to get out-,”That d*mn tattoo.” Before desolving in deep chuckles again.

His explanation gets you tickled, so, you join him in his amusement, your laughter making his worse and vice versa. It goes on for several minutes. Just as one of you start to quiet down and you think it’s over, the other will start again, setting them both off once more

Finally, you both quiet your laughs into something softer, catching your breath.

“I knew you liked it.” You both bust into booming laughter again, even louder this time.

Heads thrown back against your pillows, your laughter descended on into the late of night.

absolutely beautiful writing, truly

Task Force 141 ; Call Me Mr Sandman

It grates at him, the way you slink out of bed at ungodly hours of the night to sit up alone in the living room so as not to disturb him. Little do you know that the cold sheets and vacancy of your side of the bed will always wake him. A plan is in order and he is eager to execute it and have you back in his arms to walk you hand in hand to the land of dreams.

{ flufff ; gn reader }

john price worries, and deeply so. insomnia is no stranger to him, he’s been around that very block a good number of times but in his line of work, sleep deprivation walks you straight into the coffin. he had to twart it and quickly and fucking hell, if he could just recall how. if he could just hand you the antidote and tuck you into the fold of his arm beneath the covers, it would be the Hail Mary. but he can’t and he doesn’t and so he takes up his mind’s attempt at the next best thing.

the white noise machine is obnoxious at first and you try to tell him what a waste of money it is considering you could just find the damn noise on YouTube and play it from the tv but he shushes you softly and asks you to just give it a try, little love, please? and you can’t deny him, it hurts to do so anyways when he’s doing so for your sake. for the dark rings surrounding your eyes. for the headache that has your head feeling hollowed out. for the snappish irritation that coats you like an oily bubble from days of exhaustion.

so you lay there, facing john and trying very hard to not mind the machine humming on your bedside table as you two talk softly with one another. it’s mindless chatter, talk of your earlier day and recounts of your days apart when he’s deployed and then just the silliness that wriggles beneath your skin as the hours dwindles on and you start to feel like a school child staying up way past their bedtime.

it’s inevitable. john’s eyes growing heavy as his words become more spaced out until his mumblings are entirely nonsensical and replaced by his snoring, head falling further on his pillow in your direction and you cannot help but smile. the poor man tries so desperately to fight his body clock in order to see you through to sleep but he cannot be blamed. you shuffle quietly closer and kiss at the corner of his mouth with a whisper good night before you’re turning over, already swinging your leg out to get out of bed. but that damned machine is immediately in your eyesight and the guilt sprouts from a seed in the pit of your stomach until it’s the size of a watermelon.

the poor man is trying, trying so hard to keep you in bed when you should be and here you are, ready to annul those efforts by simply reverting back to your usual habits. so you let out a sigh and retract your leg back under the covers and you glare at the machine for but a second before you’re turning over and nestling into john. your heart all but splinters at the way even unconsciously, his body responds to your warmth and touch, opening up his chest for you to crawl into and nestle there.

it’s not antidotal to your insomnia but it settles that restless energy in your head that speaks of you being a bother to him and his sleep. there’s a new set of eyes, opening up to the word, within you, head tilted back to look up at your significant other. you realise then that you are master of self implosion, unnecessary punishment to a cause beyond your control. and this very man, this man snoring away with his fingers splayed across your back, has been trying to steer you to that reflection in the mirror for a good while now. so you snuggle as close to him as possible and close your eyes. sleep may escape you but this love a breath away from you certainly won’t.

kyle garrick pads out of your shared bedroom in sock clad feet, two jumpers thrown across his forearm and sleep tucking itself away at the edges of his lashes. it’s the droopy look he gives you as he blinks slowly that causes the network of fissures spreading across the warmth of your body. a quick glance at the clock mounted above the kitchen’s arch tells you that it’s nearing 4am and everything within you sags. kyle comes to stand beside your head at the backrest of the couch, bending at the waist to kiss your temple and he murmurs in a soft voice, “let’s go for a drive.”

you protest adamantly, getting up to steer him back to bed with bracketing apologies to each of your protests, hands on his shoulders meant to shove him lovingly back. of course, kyle does not miss the opportunity to point out the irony, something about it just about bordering hypocrisy and you scowl up at him. you’re so utterly mistaken to think you’d win this argument, with kyle pulling you a step closer, laying imploring kisses to your lips and before you know it, he’s slipping the jumper over your head. it’s too tender, the cracks within have seeped out enough heat but the strong hands with slender fingers that tug the sleeves down and fix the collar of his jumper are molding molten gold into those very cracks.

he leads you down to the basement parking with your hand in his, thumb stroking at your skin in a slow and gentle movement that mimics the flow of a cradle rocking. you begin to ache as he opens the car door for you, only closing it after he kisses your cheek. you have bare seconds to yourself in the car as he crosses in front of it and your eyes track him as he does and your heart is stuck in a prayer of his name that doesn’t dull out even as he slips into the leather of the driver’s seat and starts the engine.

it’s quiet, the world. so much so that you almost flinch at the rumble of the engine and the shift of gears as your boyfriend pulls away, the nose of the car breaching reality in its amble to dawn. you’re tense for a good 9 minutes, back too straight and muscles tight as you take in the roads kyle leads the car down. you don’t even notice how on edge you are until his warm palm leaves the center console to find its perch on your thigh, fingers massaging at the muscle there. you hear the movements for the words they press into your skin. i’ve got you, it’s okay.

the tears slip down the side of your face silently and you are torn between brushing them away and calling kyle’s attention to the movement or leaning back and closing your eyes to their existence. you opt for the latter, a sigh breaks through your parted jaw and you let your head cradle into the headrest. you feels his eyes on you briefly, but the fight has left your body and you keep them closed. “stop trying to deal with it alone.” his reprimand is stern and still manages to feel like the stroke to your hair when he hugs you to his chest. so you turn your head in his direction and peer at him through wet lashes. there is a lot to say but you manage the most important of it,

“i love you.” he looks at you for as long as he deems safe before he turns back to the road ahead, the hand on your thigh flips over in a request. your own palm meets his and you curl your fingers with the last of your strength into him as you close your eyes again. the radio is off and you much prefer it, the quiet and warm atmosphere along with the drone of the vehicle is enough to settle your bones into the leather. the echo of your words finds you in the voice you prefer it in and smile softly at the insistence in it, the cadence meant to embed the meaning of the words into you viscerally.

it’s a little less than an hour of sleep that you manage, but you’re so thankful for it. you wake up in a neighboring town, so much green breaking in the bleary light of dawn it snatches at the breath halfway up your throat. you scramble up in your seat and peer around at the narrow road kyle is driving down between a number of hills. he smiles at you from the corner of his eye, says something about the sunrise and you feel that prayer in your heart become so fervent, that you swear you can hear it in the speakers of the car. it sings of your love, it sings of a fate you will twist the fabric of thread yourself to tie the two of you together if it came down to it.

john mactavish acts with sundown. there are candles lit around the bedroom, the curtains are drawn and the bed itself looks like your linen closet may have thrown up on it. “all to set the mood, hon”, he tells you with his hands on your shoulders as he steers you into the room after your shower. goodness, the man had even gone as far as picking out your favorite pair of pjs, fresh out of the dryer to make it that little mile more comfier. your heart is in knots of adoration and anticipation and you’d hate to tell him that your heart rate might act against his plans to have you at complete and utter ease. so you say nothing, falling into the cloud of blankets and pillows.

you’re watching him with wide eyes, smile excited as he shuffles through the three soft covers in his hand. there’s a furrow to his brows as he reads the titles to himself, repeating each of them as if they will whisper the secrets of their content to him if he calls on them long enough. you’re torn. between staying snuggled away in your personalized cloud and throwing yourself at your boyfriend to litter his face with the kisses that burn at your lips. you settle for a third option; waiting for him to choose his challenger and tuck himself against you so you can smother him in the love that bubbles from you like a shaken bottle of champagne.

johnny had been pouting at you all week, sitting across the breakfast table from you with sad puppy eyes that took two measly attempts from you the morning prior to get him to talk before he was whining at you. expressing the absolute heartache of walking up alone, your side of the bed, so unbearably cold and untouched. it was enough that you had gotten up from your chair to sit astride his lap, pulling his head to your chest as you cooed your apologies into his ear, kissing at his neck. the two of you had a good talk then, you finally explaining your fears of being a disturbance to his sleep if you stayed in bed and him smack at your buttocks in indignation.

johnny had come to a clear conviction that morning, and no one could say that the man had issues in execution. he had spent a good portion of the day putting his money where his mouth is, maneuvering by you with fast and determined steps, murmuring little excuse me’s and leaving quick kisses to your cheek with his arms full. there had been a better part of two hours where the bedroom door had been closed and you had been barred from entry. your boyfriend then returned to you as you sat on the couch with a shitty reality show to entertain you, standing at your feet and smiling down at you.

“where’ye keep those books of yours, baby?” that had been an adventure on its own, walking johnny through your trove, breaking down the genres and tropes and plot lines as he nodded and assessed the covers with a level of scrutiny that betrayed his line of thinking. you pushed to the balls of your feet and laid a kiss to his lips before you left him to his dissection. and from that, you spy three titles johnny had managed to narrow it down to.

he taps one against the flat of his palm twice and sets the other two aside before his eyes flick up at you and they’re bright and brilliant in that blue of them as they speak of his pride in all that he has arranged for this and having finally come to the crux of it as he crawls into bed beside you. johnny wriggles this way and that before those large arms are pulling you flush against his chest and he cracks open the book in his right hand while his left is laid against your stomach. he asks you softly if you’re comfortable and upon your nod, he announces the title and author.

the deep, gruff of his voice reads the story to you, and it’s not only in your ears, but against your cheek and hand, echoing into the marrow of your bones and fucking hell, this man could have chosen to read the terms and conditions you’re prone to ignore and accept anyway across the web and you’d still be entranced. maybe it’s the very abundant feelings you have for him, maybe it’s the accent and just sheer attraction to his voice, but your body is a stringed instrument that his intonations pluck at lovingly. johnny gets to chapter 4 as you start to feel the droop of your eyes, a heaviness that feels so nostalgic that you almost want the word to pause for you to indulge in it.

his voice grows distant, your attention the finicky flame of candle on a windy night and you want to thank him, want to love on him for this coaxing into dreamland and even more so, you want to grab him at the hand and pull him into your dreams because you are so very certain that your reality before these dozing moments will make any imagination of your subconscious so utterly bleak.

simon riley takes on a two birds, one stone approach to your frustrations. it’s so typical of him that you offer him a soft laugh when he finally divulges his plan to you, shaking your head against his bicep with loving amusement. teas. or more specifically, tea blending. he tells you, of which he has already stocked up for and done the needed research for. you do not doubt him for a second, because the man is meticulous to a fault. for goodness’ sake, simon has even completed a course on it.

you ask if you’re allowed to watch as he gets to work on setting up his station as the sun begins to sink and he pulls out the barstool for you in invitation. you’re easily transfixed at the sight of it all; your shared kitchen becoming a pop-up apothecary that is fronted by a behemoth of a man that dons a skull mask on his days of work. it’s enough to draw another titter out of you as you rest your chin on your hand. simon only arches an eyebrow at you briefly before he gets swept up in his work again.

the floral and herbal notes are a burst to your senses and it’s comical to watch simon measure out his determined dosages of each, the tea vials an unlikely sight in hands you are well and truly acquainted with. you ask soft questions, watch as he notes down his measurements for the chamomile, lavender and lemon peel, loops and run-on letters that only he will ever be able to decipher. he gets the kettle boiling only as he stirs through his dry blend and funnels it into the infuser and he briefly mentions to you the careful deliberation on his decided temperature for the tea.

he settled on 95°C, he tells you, the tea being a herbal one with the flourish of refreshing lemon. simon does not walk you through his decided measurements however, he shushes you and brushes a hand over your hair as he sets your favorite mug in front of you as the kettle clicks off and he allows it the allocated time to steep. your boyfriend folds himself down to lean his weight on the kitchen counter after having tidied up after himself, grunting at you to stay seated as it was his mess to see to. a generous phrasing, considering how steady those hands are, how particular he is about his work. now, he simply looks at you, slow blinks as he takes you in and you grow self-conscious at the way those dark eyes linger on the dark circles beneath your own and the wane of your cheeks.

you drop your gaze to the quartz of the countertop instead, forefinger tracing a vein of it in order to appear more casual than you feel. the silence presses upon the both of you with the weight of mist against your skin. clammy and all consuming and you wonder if you projected your insecurity so far into the atmosphere that it now rains down on the both of you in heavy contrast to the steam coming off of the tea kettle not even half a meter from the two of you. the smell hits you sharply, the earthy, floral notes of chamomile laces itself into the crisp and clean of lavender with a tail of twang from the lemon peel. you can’t deny that your muscles prickle as they begin to loosen at the second inhalation of the scent.

“a great deal of tea blending is scenting. it’s the first impression of your blend.” he tells you when he notes the subtle shift in your body, a twitch at the corner of his mouth as he straightens and grabs the kettle to fill both of your cups. it’s a very pale amber, like bleak sunlight just as the dawn cracks at the seam of the earth and you can’t help but smile at the irony of it. you wait for the last drop from the spout before you gather the mug into your palms and look up at simon, thank him as you stretch over to kiss at his cheekbone. when you pull away and fall back into your seat, he remains quiet for a while.

finally, he responds with “i miss you during the night. but i don’t blame you.” your frown is an automatic response to the clench of your breath, seized by your ribs at his words and you shutter against the warmth of his attempts. attempts to coax you back into your shared bed, to keep you there, at rest with him. you open a mouth to apologize to him, to offer words that had melded to the roof of your mouth for much too long. you don’t get to free them though, because simon drags the barstool beside you even closer so that his thighs bracket you and he can drape himself across you like a security blanket.

“no apologies. might as well just snatch unwarranted blame then.” the words are crass in the same way that they are affectionate. equal measures of both and purely a blend of simon. so you nod, you lean back into him and you finally take slow sips of your tea. it’s good and it engulfs your body in a serenity that you has no belief of it being capable of. you hum quietly in approval, slouching further into the strength of your boyfriend and mutter halfheartedly that your weight against him is a consequences of his own goodwill. he only clicks his tongue and drags your chair further into him.

you drink a second cup as the two of you migrate to the couch, simon stretched out for your comfort as you curl into him like a kitten discovering its mother’s milk for the first time. the pair of you don’t talk much, it’s an easy silence as he feathers your hair between his fingers and stares at the ceiling. it’s when your eyelids grow heavier in weight that you lift your head at him and request one last move. you barely get the words out before he’s sitting up with you still tucked into his chest. you’re under the covers and in his arms with a content sigh barely two minutes later and the cotton fluff of sleep almost has you delirious but just before it claims you, you manage to speak the words that burned the back of your teeth for hours,

“i missed you too.”

BARKS

Could I request baby fever with the boys over text? Either from reader or the boys.

after making this, i gotta do it the other way around like immediately

[ BABY FEVER ] 𝜗𝜚 the texts where you ask the CoD men to get you pregnant

𝜗𝜚 characters: simon "ghost" riley, kyle "gaz" garrick, john "soap" mactavish, john price 𝜗𝜚 cw: allusions to smut (minors—DNI), mentions of birth control/IUD, talks of ripping out IUDs, breeding kink, reader is assumed female/afab

can confirm I was a greasy rat that was nearby

Johnny is a huge fan of drawing his clothes tight around the curves of your body and plucking at your nipples through the fabric, he actually told me so :/

can confirm I was a greasy rat that was nearby

Johnny is a huge fan of drawing his clothes tight around the curves of your body and plucking at your nipples through the fabric, he actually told me so :/

Binged this today, already in love with it!! Can not wait for nore!!

"But werewolves aren't real?" || werewolf! 141 x werewolf! reader Part 6

Future pairings = poly 141 x reader

Chapter pairings = everyone but Ghost/reader

Words = 1.2k

[Chapter 5] --- [Chapter 7]

Summery: After moving out of the big city and into the forest, you meet some men that might have some awners about whats been causing your pain.

Explicit under the cut

“I did not listen to you Gaz and because of that, Duck, you got hurt.” Price sat on the floor looking genuine.

Gaz sighs before standing over Price and cupping his jaw with both his hands. With his thumb he opens Price’s jaw and spits in it “You are forgiven…You need to listen to me. I'm an omega and have a different perspective than you knotheads.”

Price remained in the kneeling position and looked up at Gaz with adoration and understanding. “I understand now, I am truly sorry for everything.” A soft smell filled the area causing you to sneeze.

“Laying it on thick aren’t ya Cap’” Soap teased gently, “Even the nose blind puppy can smell it..”

“I’m notta puppy!” Huffing you tilt your head to look up at Soap, “I’m 60!”

“Not even that old puppy” Soap teased “Guess how old we are..”

“Um I feel like this is a trick question..” thinking for a second “Price is 100, You are 30, Gaz is 32, and um Ghost is 80..?”

“Not even close puppy..” Price gave you a teasing look. “I’m 800ish, Soap is 67, Gaz is 600ish, and Ghost is 720ish years old..”

“Nu uh no wayyyyy” You look at the men flabbergasted.

“Don’t fret you're not the only puppy, Soap is too” Price gave you a smirk and Soap rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay you three..” Gaz sighed and turned around so he was looking at you “we need to sort out your heat.”

“Oh yeah...” You nod, still curled up In Soap’s lap feeling so safe and comfortable. “What does that look like, um, I kinda got the gist? I just get really horny right?”

“More or less,” Gaz started to pace as he started explaining “It comes in waves, so first you’ll get really hungry, thirsty, clingy, very sleepy and in that stage you’ll put on some weight which isn't a bad thing. Then you’ll want to nest and then you'll sleep. You could get really horny or you could just be very clingy and sleepy.” Pausing in front of you and Soap Gaz gave you a soft look “It’s different for everyone duck…”

“Oh alright…when will that happen?”

“Once your cycle figures itself out then it’ll be twice a year.” Gaz sat back down on the couch sighing. “They rut 6 times a year, which can be rough at times…”

“Duck,” Price looked at you gently, standing up he ruffled Soap’s already messy mohawk. “We will help out since it’s dangerous to go through a heat alone…and please understand we will go at your pace.” 

Kissing your temple Soap huffed as Price ruffled his hair. “However,” Soap started “before heat starts and before it gets to yer’ brain we need to ken if we can help you sexually if needed..”

“I can’t do one night stands” You look at the three men quietly “I get too attached, but if you guys are gonna stay then I wouldn’t mind...”

“Duck, you aren’t getting rid of us unless you want us gone…” Gaz smiled, leaning over to lick your jaw.

“Gaz! You licked me!” You cringe a bit, unused to the custom.

Soap joined in, licking your neck. “Best get used to it, duck!”

“You're supposed to kiss on the lips.” You grumble half heartedly.

“Okay, okay duck come here.” Gaz pulled you into his arms smiling “Can I give ya a kiss?”

Nodding as Gaz pulls you into a gentle and chaste kiss. If felt like molton love pressing onto your lips. As Gaz pulls away you chase his lips. You sigh happily.

“That's what you are supposed to do..”

“Oh yeah?” Soap looked at you mischievously. “Like this?”

Soap pressed his lips to your mouth, he was an amazing kisser. He felt much more wild with his kiss. Soap then licked a stripe up your cheek. You push him off playfully. “Was that good duckie?”

“Alright you pups, lettem’ go.” Price gently scruffles the two men, looking at them with fond exasperation. “Gaz, If you are alright with it, in the next hour or so could you go talk to Simon? Me and Soap will keep an eye on duck, maybe take them into town to get them some nesting supplies…?”

Gaz nodded, looking a bit frustrated. “Simon needs to pull his head out of his ass..”

“Is Simon, Ghost?” You ask, looking between the men confused.

Leaning close to your ear, Soap’s breath fanned over your neck making you squirm a bit from the sensitivity “yup..” then he licked your neck again causing you to squeal.

“Soap!” 

Pulling you both apart Gaz kissed the cheeks of you and Soap before pulling away to kiss Price on the cheek. “I’ll be back, I gotta knock some sense into that big wanker.” Gaz then left out the sliding glass door running back into the forest.

Soap took the distraction to flip you both so he was laying on top of you on the couch. He buried his face in the crook of your neck “You smell so good duckie..” sighing he melted against you “could do for a kip”

You and Soap laid comfortably on the couch for about 45 minutes before Price loomed over you both.

“Soap” Price rumbled, gently running his hands down both of your backs. “We need to get some things for their heat, and for duck’s den…”

Soap made a grumpy noise, wrapping his arms around you. “ah ken but-”

“Soa-”

“You could nap in my bed while me and Price go out?”

“But it wouldnae be warmmmmm.” Pouting, Soap made a sad noise as he snuggled against you more.

“I have a heated blanket?”

“A what?” Sitting up, Soap manhandled you into his lap again. He looked incredibly intrigued. 

A spark of arousal lit through and before shaking it off you hum “It’s an electric blanket that has settings and stays fairly warm..” You look at Soap kindly “It used to help a bit when I had the implant in my arm..”

“Ooo” rubbing his eyes, Soap looked interested. “Would be nice..I’m always cold..”

Climbing out of his lap, you stand ready to get Soap into bed.

“You can do that or you can come help get some good treats for duck..” Price murmured slyly. “If not I’m sure me and duck can find 'em well enough, yeah?”

A conflicted look decorated Soap’s face, he did look exhausted and like he needed a nap but he really wanted to help.

Picking up on Soap’s exhaustion “Me and duck’ll wait on groceries so you can nap okay?” Price looked at Soap softly. In a fluid moment Price picked Soap up and brought him up to your room with you trailing close behind.

As soon as he was set on the bed and covered up with the blanket Soap was dead to the world, softly snoring as he fell asleep on his side.

“Alright duck, get dressed.” Patting your shoulder, Price walked down stairs. 

You bush, remembering you were only wearing a thin robe. Quickly and quietly you toss on some comfy clothes and walk down stairs. Price was sitting at your kitchen table scrolling on his phone.

“Ready, duck?” 

“”Yessir” 

Imagine a Dog!hybrid!reader with human 141, so shes like an anomaly in a mostly human world. She's a doberman hybrid, like ghost she always has a ski mask on. Her eyes are visible, no matter what your eye color is reader has piercing amber eyes, (because of her being a dog hybrid, the only doberman that can have blue eyes different than the range of browns is the albino and I don't support the breeding of that gene) I'm imagining that she was a lab experiment and was found as a kid, found by some higher up that can keep her secret classified. I like the idea of Laswell finding her and just deciding to adopt her. She learns her ticks and tricks easily enough. And reader doesnt really have any visible "dog" features other than her ears, tail, and teeth. Her claws grow a little faster and pointyier than regular humans nails. But like just imagine...

Doberman hybrid!reader needing to have a job at all times, being a working dog she gets antsy and destructive if she's understimulated. Laswell figures that out very early on after a shirt gets chewed up and has to be thrown away.

Doberman hybrid! Reader having hand puzzles and fidget toys on hand at all times to keep her stimulated.

Doberman hybrid! Reader that does laps around base when she's not on a mission. Or she's carrying around extra weight while she does mundane things so she feels useful.

Doberman hybrid! Reader that always waits for instructions before doing anything

Doberman hybrid! Reader that wags the tiny stump of a tail, that hides in her pants, anytime she gets praised, her body immediately relaxes when laswell calls her, her good girl. This gets worse once she meets and starts going with the 141.

Doberman hybrid! Reader that calls laswell mom or mama when they are alone.

Doberman hybrid! Reader that loves head/chin scratches.

Doberman hybrid! reader that wears a ski mask and helmet at all times to hide her ears.

Doberman hybrid! reader that is called anubis around base, most don't even know why they just heard it one day and went with it

Doberman hybrid! reader that has canines that grew in when she was 10 ish, she was teething and had to have so many chew things to help

Doberman hybrid! reader who doesn't really have a heat or period, more like a mixture of the two, it's not as often as a period but not as long as a heat cycle. Reader nests during her cycle and is a little bit more horny than usual. She gets very clingy during this time as well.

When she meets the 141, I imagine it's because some dumbass higher up said that laswell and reader couldn't work together anymore because they are mom and daughter. Even though anyone that knows about r's condition knows the reason they work together is because of r's condition. Like any work dog she needs a knowledgeable handler. When they meet her, they're all intrigued. She's quiet and does everything laswell says without complaint. For this specific reader I think ghost and soap would take one look at her eyes and immediately stake a claim silently. Soap is a bit more vocal about it in subtle ways, ghost is just looming and quiet, but if you know him well enough, like the 141, you can see the possession flickering in his eyes. The only thing is reader wants nothing to do with any of them. When they go on their mission, reader is a little lost, she waits for orders like the good girl she is and price starts getting frustrated with this, he's used to his boys knowing exactly what needs to get done without asking even though for certain reasons he still voices his needs for missions. He tries to understand because she's new to the team but he can't seem to. Eventually he blows up at reader, she cowers and gets that guilty look in her eye even though she didn't do anything wrong per say. Ghost clenched his gun tightly not like the tone price was using, soap was a little less subtle with his anger, he glared a hole into prices head. Gaz tried to get the captain to back and eventually he did but the damage had been done. Soap tried to talk to reader but it wasn't much use. Once they got back to base, reader immediately goes to laswells office, wanting to be comforted by her person. Laswell was beyond pissed when she heard what happened and marched down to John's office to tell him right off. Angry mama bear mode activated. After a few more missions (over a few months), laswell tells the boys what reader is, like maybe they are on a mission and at their safe house. Reader is asleep in a hoodie and a mask. They don't believe her at first untill reader wakes up from a nightmare crying and freaks so she rips her mask off, ears pinned back. Laswell goes over and holds her telling her mama is here. When she falls back asleep, she sets her back down against her bed and gives her a spare t-shirt cause hybrid!reader has a sensitive nose and a comforting scent will help her. Ghost and soap test this later down the road while on mission, they grab an old t-shirt of theirs and give it to asleep reader. She cuddles it and eventually sticks it in her mouth unknowingly, she doesn't chew on it. Laswell taught her better than that, she just let's it sit in her teeth. Once johnny and Simon have her as their girlfriend she just stuffs whatever t-shirt they're wearing to bed, or maybe even fingers (as long as they are clean.)in her mouth when they settle in for the night. Eventually when she moves out of Laswells house and into the boy's she's now going to have to get used to not being the only dog in the house. Riley at first doesn't know how to react to this strange woman that smells of Dog in his home. Reader doesn't know how to act around a dog, the dogs at base usually didn't like her. But eventually they become best friends. She's able to understand what Riley needs most of the time and when they both get antsy they take runs together. Simon's a little mad that his dog stole his girl but he makes her feel better so he guesses its alright. Once they retire, reader doesn't get as antsy anymore mainly because she's stimulated, even if she's not working anymore. She still has her moments but with Simon, Johnny, and Riley all in her life she's got plenty of things to keep her occupied. Even more so if she has some smaller pups running around if you know what I mean... 😏

okay but i need a reader who is badshit insane, i need a reader with a history dretenched in so much blood that it’s stained them.

i need a reader that can be as stoic and scary as ghost so much so that they’ve become more of a legend then a person, a rotting grave that holds the bones of who they once were.

or a reader that was always drawn to the glint of a knife and the sight of blood running down their hands until no more skin showed, more monster than human since birth.

let them be feral I BEG‼️‼️‼️ especially for price, let them be feral and protective and obsessive and in love with price please 🙏🏽 🗣️